Let's try to keep the story going anyway. It would be nice to hear from some of the new people!


Hollow with sadness, Marchwyr lay for a long time on the cold floor of the darkened hut without moving. There was no use. Without a single ray of light in the place, he couldn't even see the walls or ceiling. And he would be confined for three days and three nights. He would surely miss the contest now, even if he could compose a poem for it! How would he even mark time if he couldn't see the sun or moon? His heart's bitter disappointment turned to a hard kernal of defiance. He began to pace back and forth with his hands out before him like a blind man searching. When his hands touched the rough wall, he turned around and paced the other way. He discovered that his cell was exactly seven paces this way and seven paces that way. To keep himself from drifting away into madness in the darkness, he amused himself by marching and counting, over and over, back and forth. Seven and seven. Seven and seven. Until - !