Read the taster, then click the link to read the rest. If you like them let me know, and I might put some more online.
In the first castle of the land there
lived a prince. Just as the castle was tall and fair, so was the prince.
Just as the castle had stood, impregnable, all the days of the empire,
untouched too was the prince. All his life he had been protected, nurtured
and preserved for his eventual role as spiritual figurehead of the empire.
His knowledge of etiquette was precise, his bloodline pure and is wedding
feast arranged for the next day.
A raven circled down to perch on a withered tree, and surveyed the scene. A pebble clattered down the dusty mountain path. A wild cat chased its tail in a weird dance. Clouds of dust rose with the heat haze. The sun beat down on the mountain and the path. Light from the same reflected from the golden walls of a city that crowned the summit of the mountain. The golden glow shone as a beacon for miles around, and (except for some particularly dark sections) illuminated the path for those who traveled it. ...
(This is some Tolkien fan fiction, the story is set in the lands of the Dunlendings, North of the Gap of Rohan and South of the Shire. This story is the first of three that I have written around the same characters)
Many and fearful are the tales told of Caranarak, but more fearful are those told of his wife Tariband! Whilst Caranarak moved in the shadow world, willing the shadows to do his work until he himself vanished into the shades, many a man was seduced by the proud lies of that she-devil and the sword of Tariband still burns in the memory of this storyteller at least ...