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The Book
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Severus pulled his dark hood close against the chilling twilight air as he stared at the quaint village sprawled below him. The centaur's eyes swept the seaside town, slowly taking in the white-washed houses, the marketplace, the modest temple to Poseidon. Then somewhat absently, his gaze drifted out to sea, to the gently braking waves, the placidly circling gulls, the lantern-lit fishing boats strreaming in to shore. At last though he focused on a large smithy with a plume of dying smoke emenating from its chimney and he smiled.
The padding on his hooves allowed him to move more quietly than a mouse on tiptoes through the outskirts of the village. He bends low outside the blacksmith’s window, still unheard and unnoticed. He tenses his back muscles, strong from assisting the herd. This was the point of no return.Severus knew the herd would disapprove, had they known. But how could he not? The gods and human’s had driven the centaurs to near extinction, and this common blacksmith was on the verge of making everything so much worse. Yes, it was repulsive. But the blacksmith had to be killed.
He released the tension, springing upwards and through the window. Shards of glass crashed to the floor, shattering. No room for stealth now. Severus charged to the small bed in the centre of the room and wrenched the sleeping figure awake. In seconds he had a knife poised at its throat ready for a quick and painless murder. He hesitated, for the first time since entering the room.
In his hands was not an evil, life-ruining blacksmith, but a young girl. Her eyes were just now fluttering, she was yet to fully wake up. Severus knew that an ear piercing scream was coming. A large, hairy hand covered her mouth and nose.
What if there didn’t have to be a murder?
On to his back he slung the unconscious girl. Out of the window, into the night. Binding the newly noticed cut on his arm.
Serverus galloped hard and fast. He knew that town citizens would never allow a centaur like himself to get away with child theft. Townsfolk tended to believe that centaurs ate children and sacrificed their blood to dark gods. They were only partly right. Centaurs did sacrifice children to gods - living human sacrifices, acolytes worshipping deserving masters.So Serverus galloped onwards, heading towards the temple of his master with his precious burden. Children were a valuable commodity and even if the child was stolen, she could serve the glory of Olympus. The gods certainly did not care whether their servants had been stolen from villages. All they desired was human worship.
No swearing.
No sex scenes.
No posts unrelated to the story not even in parenthesees.
When you get on to write first go to the punch in thread and make a post saying you are about to start writing. Also, before you start to write go to the punch in thread and see if anybody else has already commented there. This way we won't have multiple people writing the same scene all at once.
Your contribution to the story can be no longer than 300 words at a time. Don't feel that you have to finish your thought; leave that to the next person.
After you have written your 300 words, you must wait until at least two other people have written before writing again yourself.
Try to use some sort of spelling and grammar.