Shimrod
August 5th, 2002, 02:31 PM
I believe that there many forum members around here who know an awfull lot about fantasy books. So it’s time to start a little knowledge test. Forgive if it's done before but I'm rather curious
I will give 5 opening sentences of more or less well known books. It’s up to you to guess what book. Mind you, I’ll skip any prologues and always start with chapter one. Also if a name of a character would be in the opening sentences or a name of a country I will skip that name and write my own name or my home country instead. Or else it would spoil the fun wouldn’t it?
Are you ready? Oh, by the way, anyone who guesses all the 5 titles correctly will have everlasting fame in this forum (and beyond).
We’ll start with an easy one (kind of warming up)
When Shimrod announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleven-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Lyonesse
The second one
The storm had broken. Shimrod danced along the edge of the rocks, his feet finding scant purchase as he made his way among the tide pools. His dark eyes darted about as he peered under the cliff face, seeking the spiny creatures driven into the shallows by the recently passed storm.
Number three
My pen falters, then falls from my knuckly grip, leavinga worm’s trail of ink across Shimrod’s paper. I have spoiled another leaf of the fine stuff, in what I suspect is a futile endeavour. I wonder if I can write this history, or if on every page there will be some sneaking show of bitterness I thought long dead
And the fourth
Shimrod looked like he was fully capable of handling trouble, for which reason trouble generally gave him a wide berth. His thick-set body was hard with muscle, his hands textured with callusses that spoke of fighting often, and well. His shoulders bore the weight of a sizable sword in a thick leather harness with no sign of strain, despite the fact that the dust stains on his woolen shirt and the mud which caked his riding boots said that he was traveling long and hard, and ought to be tired.
Finally the last one
Shimrod couldn’t see the ground for corpses. He was deafened by screams and clashing steel. Despite the cold, sweat stung his eyes. His muscles burned and his body ached. Blood, mud and splashed brains flecked his jerkin. And now two more of the loathsome, soft pink creatures were moving in on him with murder in their eyes. He savoured the joy. His footing unsure, he stumbled and almost fell, pure instinct bringing up his sword to meet the first swinging blade
Okay, good luck..........................
:D
I will give 5 opening sentences of more or less well known books. It’s up to you to guess what book. Mind you, I’ll skip any prologues and always start with chapter one. Also if a name of a character would be in the opening sentences or a name of a country I will skip that name and write my own name or my home country instead. Or else it would spoil the fun wouldn’t it?
Are you ready? Oh, by the way, anyone who guesses all the 5 titles correctly will have everlasting fame in this forum (and beyond).
We’ll start with an easy one (kind of warming up)
When Shimrod announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleven-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Lyonesse
The second one
The storm had broken. Shimrod danced along the edge of the rocks, his feet finding scant purchase as he made his way among the tide pools. His dark eyes darted about as he peered under the cliff face, seeking the spiny creatures driven into the shallows by the recently passed storm.
Number three
My pen falters, then falls from my knuckly grip, leavinga worm’s trail of ink across Shimrod’s paper. I have spoiled another leaf of the fine stuff, in what I suspect is a futile endeavour. I wonder if I can write this history, or if on every page there will be some sneaking show of bitterness I thought long dead
And the fourth
Shimrod looked like he was fully capable of handling trouble, for which reason trouble generally gave him a wide berth. His thick-set body was hard with muscle, his hands textured with callusses that spoke of fighting often, and well. His shoulders bore the weight of a sizable sword in a thick leather harness with no sign of strain, despite the fact that the dust stains on his woolen shirt and the mud which caked his riding boots said that he was traveling long and hard, and ought to be tired.
Finally the last one
Shimrod couldn’t see the ground for corpses. He was deafened by screams and clashing steel. Despite the cold, sweat stung his eyes. His muscles burned and his body ached. Blood, mud and splashed brains flecked his jerkin. And now two more of the loathsome, soft pink creatures were moving in on him with murder in their eyes. He savoured the joy. His footing unsure, he stumbled and almost fell, pure instinct bringing up his sword to meet the first swinging blade
Okay, good luck..........................
:D