Welcome friends, followers, and Weekend Writing Warriors!
This week, I’m sharing eight more sentences from my funny fantasy adventure, “The Rose-Spar Ladies.”
Cromeve and his friends had saved villages from giant insects, done battle with an evil sorcerer, and chased off highwaymen. But mostly, they’d crawled through some of the most miserable underground tunnels you could imagine looking for forgotten gold.
The two Rose-spar Ladies were the best treasure Cromeve had found in his years of adventure. Each one was no taller than his hand from wrist to fingertip, and their resemblance to noblewomen in elegant gowns was better if you squinted at them. There wasn’t much to each lady’s face than a button nose and the impression of sunken eyes.
But they’d somehow been fashioned from incredibly delicate pink stone. Cromeve rather thought the ladies had been made by wizardry, for no other reason than he couldn’t imagine anyone managing to carve them with ordinary tools. One mistake, one fault in the rose-spar, one chisel blow a fraction too hard… and the craftsman with would have only had a collection of shards like the one in his bindle.
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