In the post below this one, I have written the beginning of a story. The next participant should write a continuation, one or two paragraphs, then someone else add a couple of paragraphs onto that.

This will run through the month of July. In August, the fnished story will be posted in the Community Center Forum, Renderosity Magazine and on Renderosity's Facebook pages.

Edward raced into the great hall, clad head to toe in his armour. He swung his sword at his opponent, also clad in armour. The other man jumped out of the way and pulled out his sword. He jumped onto the table, knocking over two chairs in the process. Edward swung his sword again, not at the other man this time, but at the rope from which the huge wooden chandelier was suspended, cutting it. Edward's opponent looked up briefly and hurled himself from the table just ahead of the chandelier which broke apart as it crashed onto the table, destroying a silver candelabra which had been on the table directly under it.

Hot wax splashed from the candles of both the chandelier and the ruined candelabra. Edward ignored it and the flying shards of chandelier. He couldn't quite ignore the flames that hadn't drowned out in the puddles of wax, the flames that grew as the table caught fire and started to burn. Edward had never been fond of fire. He pushed the thought aside. He couldn't be distracted. He knew he was out matched. His opponent had many years experience on him. He didn't have a choice. He had to fight and he had to win. It was more than his life that was at stake.

glad this is one of the quieter forums, otherwise we'd have to worry about cross posts mixing things up.

Would have been better if Edward walked into the great hall in full armor. He scanned the hall, and saw figures in the shadows. Would he need to use his sword? He could feel the tension.

Elsewhere in this dreadful castle was his Princess. She had been abducted and brought here to be used as a bargaining chip between two powerful and ruthless states. Her own land, the one in which Edward was simply a common peasant, was the buffer between the two larger states. It had always remained independent and neutral. The sudden death of the Monarch, Queen Alicia, had been a shock, but the realisation that Princess Malia had disappeared from her suite had caused chaos.

Quickly Edward looked around for a fire extinguisher. In the mirror he glimpsed a different angle of the other man. Could it be, was it? The other man looked a lot like his evil identical twin brother, Warded. They had been mortal enemies ever since the incident with the cat, the kite and the laser pointer. But if it was him, there was some hope. Warded liked fire even less than Edward. Meanwhile the princess though that she was smelling smoke. Was it smoke? Or was it her burning passion for Edward. He had come to her in the night, him, but somewhat different.

Warded taunted Edward, daring him to ignore the flames. Edward could see his brother was terrified of the flames. He took advantage of this, and lunged at Warded. Warded fled, laughing hysterically. Edward could no extinguish the flames, and look for the princess. Warded was out of the way, for the moment.

A red dragon crashed through the opposite wall. The dragon was covered with thick armored scales, leathery wings, and teeth like daggers. It’s eyes golden red reflected the movement of the flames. Edward froze in terror for a moment as the dragon spread it’s arms and wings, ripping into the stone floor. Suddenly and without warning the director shouted.

“CUT! Back to one!” The director closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. An alarm bell sounded. The director stepped away from the monitor. The special effects team turned off the flames as various film crew moved into view from the other side of the camera, some to check the stars make up and hair, and others to reset the scene. Three large burly men rocked the dragon on it’s wheels and began to push the giant mechanical puppet back through the break away wall.

“What’s wrong?” one of the producers asked the director.

“They should have gone with a CGI dragon” whispered a crewman to the script person.

The director overheard the whisper and shook his head in disagreement. One of the film producers glared at the offending crewman.

The three lead actors moved toward the craft services table, eyeing the warm foods as their teams of hair, makeup, and costume people tried to keep food from damaging their labor. The three large burly men were restoring the breakaway brick wall in place.

“It’s missing something,” the director told the producer.

“Hiding? It was our dear little starlet again wasn’t it? The one playing the princess?”

“Yes, she was annoyed that I had made her kiss the ugly one.”

“The ugly one? But the actors are identical twins too?”

“You try telling her that!”

“Say, talking about the warm food, do you think if we stop providing them with a meal their acting will be edgier, stronger – a little big hungry. This piece seems to be missing some drama.”

“Don’t you worry about that. They’re wheeling the dragon prop away now – it was only a decoy. They have no idea what’s going to come through that wall when I shout ACTION again!”