The Game of Allies

Authors' Note (And maybe a Grammar lesson, too)

You see how it says "Authors' " and not " Author's"? That means it's possessive and plural at the same time. Wow. Mind blown, right?

Well, probably not. Anyway, the authors want to talk to you (That time "authors" had no apostrophe so it's just plural).

Actually, maybe not. They're too immature to write anything nice. So I'll talk to you. We did this for fun, grammar and spelling may not be perfect, but we try. This project we have been working on for awhile. We have mashed some entries together to represent one event in the game, some have less entries, some have more.

The Game of Allies

By Jurcikal

Featuring:

Managers/ Main Writers:

President: Chase Thompson/ Alex/ G.O.A

Vice President: Zoey Kesner/ Avery/Daisy

Coordinator: Zoey Norde/ Violet

Advertising and Editing Manager: Samantha Crowe

Barbara Mclaws/ Paris

Ashlynn Misterek/ Anna

Other Writers:

Cod Nemec/ Cod

Dean Thompson / Nhyat

James Rodulfo/ Miko

Sofia Skaggs/ Kimi

Graham Foust/ The Drifter

Editors: Johnny Yerxa

Klinton Gardner

Avery Journal # 0

August 23, 2015 12:56 p.m.

I guess I'm actually writing in a journal. For the first time in my life.

The wind blew my hair as I led the patrol along the battlefield. Ever since we had claimed meadow field as our own, we had to patrol it and kill anyone that intruded on our territory. I heard a scuffle in the bushes. I grabbed a dagger and crept closer, signaling my patrol to split up and close in on the bush from opposite sides, trapping the trespasser. I stalked closer and jumped on the bush, swinging my dagger like a maniac. I felt the dagger slide into a fleshy creature. I pulled it out. It was lighter than expected. I looked at it. It was a rabbit. I sheathed my dagger and continued my patrol along the outside edge of the field. With nothing else disturbing the quaint breeze over the grass or the soft scent of the maple trees on the other side of the meadow, we headed back to camp.

The camp was encircled by trees with a small clearing in the middle. It looked like something from a storybook. The only thing that would make the two very different would be the people who dwelt in the storybook-like home. We were murderers. Not princesses. Maybe some of us started out that way, but 2 months in the game changes everything about you. We walked past the prison/dungeon/torture chamber and the prisoners looked at our rabbit. I looked at them. I signaled the patrol to keep moving, and walked up to the thorny rose bushes that formed the walls to the prison. I looked at the chains that restrained them. I saw a bucket of slop in the corner, untouched, that was supposed to be their food. I took out my dagger. They shied away from me, now cowering in the corner. I split the rabbit 3 ways, handing one portion to each prisoner. They looked at my with gratefulness filling their eyes up to the brim.