Chapter 1
Lee's P.O.V. (again, things may get a bit out of order at this point; Thalia hasn't even typed up a rough draft for her chapter!)
I landed inside a city, punching at the air. At the moment I was thinking only one thing; must kill Grace, painfully. When I took a look around me, I thought, 'O.K. this has got to be the capital of Rohan.' No, I was not in a good mood. I stalked over to the nearest guy. He was wearing armor and blushing. I muttered
"I guess they haven't heard of leggings yet…" I then addressed him. "What age is this?"
"The t-t-tenth." Of all days to wear the almost-too-small t-shirt with 'I love Boromir' written across the, ah, chest! At least I wasn't wearing Grace's pale pink shirt… I asked the guy,
"Can you direct me to a seamstress?" He pointed up the street. I walked up the street and found the shop. I went in and found a woman sorting through assorted cloths and fabrics. I asked her, "Are you the seamstress?"
"Aye, you look like you could use some help."
"Well, yes. I need something so I can walk around the street without getting noticed." The seamstress looked puzzled.
"A dress with split skirts."
"You can't possibly wear split skirts!"
"Fine, may I borrow some paper and a writing implement?" I was handed some paper and a stick of charcoal. I sketched an extremely loose shirt with a turtleneck, loose sleeves and tight cuffs, as well as a pair of loose, sexless, sexless pants with tight cuffs. The seamstress sighed.
"Look, I'm paying for this! I'll also need a hooded cloak with lots of pockets on the inside and a hat."
"What colors will you be wanting?"
"Scarlet for the shirt and dark gray for everything else." It took a while, but in the end the clothes were finished. I thanked and paid the seamstress (maybe I won't kill you after all Grace). I walked out the back of the shop, tied my hair up under my hat and changed in the outhouse. (I tucked my old clothes into a pocket in the cloak.) The clothes were loose enough that I could now pass for a guy.
Now all I needed were some weapons or something so that if I had to I could fight. I went out of the outhouse and up the street, looking for a blacksmith. He had set up his shop under a tent, with three or four tables showing his wares. (I'm not so sure that I am physically able to lift a broadsword, and a real male could, so I examined the dirks instead.) I looked at the dirks and eventually settled on one that was well but plainly made. I also bought four daggers. I tucked one into my belt (there was a tanners' shop next to the blacksmiths') along with my dirk, tucked two daggers into my boots and when nobody was looking, tucked the third into my bra. I made my way out from under the tent and started walking up the street. I wondered how Grace and Thalia were making out…Oops! Bad, bad choice of words!!! I wondered how Grace and Thalia were doing…
Lee's P.O.V. (again, things may get a bit out of order at this point; Thalia hasn't even typed up a rough draft for her chapter!)
I landed inside a city, punching at the air. At the moment I was thinking only one thing; must kill Grace, painfully. When I took a look around me, I thought, 'O.K. this has got to be the capital of Rohan.' No, I was not in a good mood. I stalked over to the nearest guy. He was wearing armor and blushing. I muttered
"I guess they haven't heard of leggings yet…" I then addressed him. "What age is this?"
"The t-t-tenth." Of all days to wear the almost-too-small t-shirt with 'I love Boromir' written across the, ah, chest! At least I wasn't wearing Grace's pale pink shirt… I asked the guy,
"Can you direct me to a seamstress?" He pointed up the street. I walked up the street and found the shop. I went in and found a woman sorting through assorted cloths and fabrics. I asked her, "Are you the seamstress?"
"Aye, you look like you could use some help."
"Well, yes. I need something so I can walk around the street without getting noticed." The seamstress looked puzzled.
"A dress with split skirts."
"You can't possibly wear split skirts!"
"Fine, may I borrow some paper and a writing implement?" I was handed some paper and a stick of charcoal. I sketched an extremely loose shirt with a turtleneck, loose sleeves and tight cuffs, as well as a pair of loose, sexless, sexless pants with tight cuffs. The seamstress sighed.
"Look, I'm paying for this! I'll also need a hooded cloak with lots of pockets on the inside and a hat."
"What colors will you be wanting?"
"Scarlet for the shirt and dark gray for everything else." It took a while, but in the end the clothes were finished. I thanked and paid the seamstress (maybe I won't kill you after all Grace). I walked out the back of the shop, tied my hair up under my hat and changed in the outhouse. (I tucked my old clothes into a pocket in the cloak.) The clothes were loose enough that I could now pass for a guy.
Now all I needed were some weapons or something so that if I had to I could fight. I went out of the outhouse and up the street, looking for a blacksmith. He had set up his shop under a tent, with three or four tables showing his wares. (I'm not so sure that I am physically able to lift a broadsword, and a real male could, so I examined the dirks instead.) I looked at the dirks and eventually settled on one that was well but plainly made. I also bought four daggers. I tucked one into my belt (there was a tanners' shop next to the blacksmiths') along with my dirk, tucked two daggers into my boots and when nobody was looking, tucked the third into my bra. I made my way out from under the tent and started walking up the street. I wondered how Grace and Thalia were making out…Oops! Bad, bad choice of words!!! I wondered how Grace and Thalia were doing…