Round three

399 20 25
                                    

"Welcome to the third round, ladies and gentlemen!" Gilan said loudly. But he wasn't yelling. It was the first time none of the audience stepped back or that Halt had comments about his way of speaking. He did a fine job. Yet there was one thing...

"Gil," Will hissed, trying to catch his attention. When he was absolutely sure of the fact that his friend was listening, he said: "You can't make it take as long as it did last time - Halt and I are expected by the Baron this afternoon!"

Gilan looked down at him from his chair, grinning. "You don't have time, you say? Or don't you just want to hear the stories about your injuries?"

Will rolled his eyes at him and gestured him to start, or else...

"You all know how everything works, so let's only repeat the voting, shall we? Everyone can assign numbers ONCE. For every one-shot you can give a min of 3 points, and a max of 7 points. And remember that if you vote, you have to assign points to every one-shot, otherwise it doesn't count. You can vote until the competition closes; so you don't have to vote right now. You can assign votes in the comments, or send them privately. Please be fair and don't vote for your friends. Give every one-shot the votes it deserves. Also, if you vote, please vote in every round – that would be great. Is that all clear?"

Everyone nodded, and Halt said quietly, "It better be; I can dream the rules now." 

"Me too," Will replied on the same quiet tone, "And I bet Gil can, too. He doesn't even need his papers this time." He was right. The only papers Gilan held in his hands were the once the stories were written on.

"Alright then!" Their commander said, with a huge smile on his face, "Let's get on with it! May I present to you: The stories!"

>>>---------> <----------<<<

TheQueenTurtle

LOST

Will felt his shoulder ache with the recent, deep, wound. He looked down to see a small amount of blood seeping through the bandage. He mentally cursed and pressed his cloak tighter to try to stop the flow. The strain of the running was finally getting to him he felt his breath come in gasps and then legs start to hurt, the carriage was just ahead of him and he knew that if he can just get there everything will go fine. "I wish I had Tug for this," Will told himself as he kept running. for the for the extra privacy he'd elected not to use his horse on this pursuit. He grunted with the effort to get even with and eventually jump into the carriage. He remembered a strange popping sensation in his arm and then a lance of pain shoot through his body as he jumped onto it. He thought nothing of it because Will had one job: to stop the carriage. He pulled his saxe and ram it into one of the axles. The wheel dislodged. The carriage sharpley spun, headed toward the canyon. Will jumped off and, having one last glance as the carriage fell into the Great Canyon of Araluen and the fire ball of the carriage that marked the crash and detonation of, had been successful. It was then he noticed a great pain in his shoulder and blood smeared across his body. The world lapsed into blackness.

"He's not back yet," Halt said softly.

"It'll be okay dear," Pauline replied to him.

"It's been three weeks since he left."

"Missions can take a while," she said with a shrug.

"He hasn't sent anything. This is not normal," Halt said clenching blankets in his fists.

Pauline sighed and laid a hand on his tense shoulder, "He's trained by you, Halt. You know for a fact that he'll be okay."

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