A ten-year-old Amanda wandering around the sights and sounds of a carnival. Trying to take it all in as such an event was much larger than the backroads of isolated territory from whence she grew up. She could not imagine this many people assembled in one place. It was made more disturbing by the fact none of them seemed familiar. Short for her age, she wandered unnoticed among the crowds and began to feel the first stirrings of fear. The loud talk, the screaming children, the long lines of procession, along with the myriads of odors created a miasma that she wanted to flee. The laughter and the faux expressions of joy on the faces of people, took on the maroon tones of a nightmare. She could imagine underneath the laughter, were horrid screams about to erupt.

Provided there is a church which proclaims the mutual humanity and deity of the Lord Jesus Christ, evil will never be able to bring it to the point of attrition.

There are storm clouds before the storm, there are the living before the dead. I need a figurehead, a banner bearer who will announce my arrival to the world.

A story just isn't a story without a dragon.

Riding a Dragon is amazing, exhilarating, and murder on the thighs.

The difference between the quest for the Holy Grail and someone saying __ring me a cup_ is the flavor text and the number of stops involved.