Awful Fantasy

Camrod BaHalu approached the table. Camrod Denara-Lanoea got up from the table to greet him.
"We've got a problem," Camrod whispered.
"Oh no," said Camrod, "we're being watched."
"Is it them?" Camrod nodded towards a group of elves to his left.
"No, it's them," replied Camrod nodding to his left.

"BOOM!" shouted the explosion. Joane dove for cover and landed hard. "THUD!" screamed her landing.

Blood poured from Mering's mouth as he fell. Luckily, Mering was a vampire and it wasn't his blood; it was from the guy he was sucking.

A Dargon suddenly flew out from behind the mountain. Hailyas noted it looked similar to a Dragon, but not nearly as cliché.

"Priest! Heal me! I'm wounded!" he cried.
The priest looked inside his bag. "I think I have some ibuprofen? I'm sorry. I'm not a doctor."

"No, I expect you to die," Phasmron said. Then he began to laugh. Then he actually did laugh. Then he stopped laughing. He was just smiling now.

The sea reminded him of a huge sea. The sky was like a cloudy sky without the clouds. And his rage burned like some sort of burning rage.

Seven Onion Rings were given to the Dwarf Lords, as part of their seven combo meals.

"I smash you to nothing!" bellowed the ogre.
"That's physically impossible," said Dean. The others agreed, and the ogre admitted he was wrong.

No one answered his cries for help. (This will make more sense later when you find out he's been dead the whole time.) Was he going crazy?

Suits of armor lined the dimly lit corridor. Chain mail bow ties and iron cummerbunds glistened in the torchlight.

Sue was sobbing, knowing she was pregnant by her husband Ted's best friend. A zombie was in the background. Sue had to tell Ted the truth.

Huta typed on his Spaceship console in the year 3405 AD. It was a shitty, beige CRT monitor system just like 1970s sci-fi movies predicted.

Loraa continued into the labyrinth. She went right, left, left again, straight, right, wolves killed her, parts of her went left, right...