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Hi, heres a story. try and write a paragraph/page/more for it::Dear Angel Of Rocky Hill,
It was a long time ago that my farther died, and just yesterday I turned twelve. How would I find my farther? And where will I find him? I know its stupid, trying to find my dead relative. But I know he can't be dead. My uncle has told me stories about how brave he was. Chaplain Lance. And I want to find more about my brother and mother. Please help me! I am the most desperate young writer you have ever had.
From Stella Hikari Eileen Lance
Dear Stella Hikari Eileen Lance,
As the guardian of the unknown Rocky Hill King who will be found hopefully in a short period of time I am able to tell you one answer to your questions. I know your farther is not dead as he was a true legend and a born god and of course, no great legend and myth or summed up as a god can die. So where will you find him? The answer to that is north, east, west, south. Write to me again Stella Lance.
From The Angel Of Rocky Hill
What is the matter with that simple question of where will I find my farther? North, east, west and south. That's impossible. But as uncle-said-my-dad-said-his-dad-said 'Nothing is impossible'. Well this is. The next morning, the sky was grey and the murky clouds were gathering up into a little group in the sky. The mansion was quiet as I stepped into my on suite bathroom, washed my face, cleaned my teeth and got dressed. Uncle was already in the dining room, when I got down, sipping coffee from Aunt Sabrina's finest mug.
"Uncle," I asked.
"Yes Stella."
"How do you go north, east, west and south." Uncle sniggered.
"The only person who knows that is Lord Baldur knows that and no-one knows if he even exists!"
"Then, why did the Angel Of Rocky Hill say that. He must know."
"Don't tell me you've been reading that crap. Its just a pair of idiots, teaming together to get your money by writing fake problem solvers to you."
Well thanks for your help uncle. I’m finding my farther and that is that!
Dear Angel Of Rocky Hill,
I utterly cannot stand my uncle Massimo anymore. He won’t show any interest in finding my farther what so ever. It’s just, money this and work that. Not even my Aunt Sabrina will talk to me nicely any more. Where will I find Lord Baldur? I have a bullet hole in my heart, and you could help it heal. Please tell me! Thank you,
Stella Hikari Eileen Lance
Dear Stella Hikari Lance,
You are really asking for a lot, Stella. If I unlocked the answers to your last questions I would be unlocking some of the answers of the world’s biggest secrets. I will answer your question. I cannot tell you where lord Baldur lives but here is a riddle to help you find out: A man walks through a cave, sunlight peeking through the holes, also walks next to him walks something as big as him but weighs nothing. Who is walking next to him? Write me again Stella Lance.
From The Angel Of Rocky Hill.
I haven’t explained myself properly. Here-I am called Stella Hikari Eileen Lance and was twelve years old one month ago. I live with my Auntie Sabrina and my uncle Massimo in a mansion in the country. I go to Crest Wood primary school, in class six. My farther, who is apparently a legend/myth is known to be dead, though Angel of Rocky hill doesn’t think that.
Chapter 2
I padded along the damp grass, until I came to the Mr Grey’s bus stop. I thought about the riddle. A man walks through a cave, sunlight peeking through the holes. Also walks something next to him, bigger but ways nothing. A SHADOW! That is it! But what dose it have to do with Lord Baldur.
When I got to the bus stop, people were gathered around the little shelter. There was a moan from inside the ring of people. I ran over, pushing my way to inside the ring of people to see Mr Grey lying on the ground. His skin was white with a red scar on either cheek. I dropped down on my knees, comforting him softly. But it was to late. He was dead.
Mr Grey isn’t the type of person you’d except anyone to murder. He was friendly with most people round the area, as of course he owned the buses that shot up and down the little streets of Crest Wood. He’s a small man, old too with a little grey pointy beard and no hair. He has these green, friendly eyes which make you feel safe and always smells like coffee or toast. I was good friends with him, though no enough of a good friend to call myself a good friend. He could have been murdered under my nose. Or was it murder? His scar had now stopped bleeding but his skin just seemed whiter than before. Why would anyone want to kill Mr Grey? Let’s think. People who didn’t like Mr Grey are: the wood choppers, and his wife. The wood choppers didn’t like him as he made the whole of Crest Wood protest. And as for his wife. Well, she didn’t like him as the broke up four years ago. But none of them would murder him. This was the first murder committed in Crest Wood for about ten years. But I had other jobs to do. Like finding Lord Baldur. Except once I’d ran back to tell Massimo the bad news, he had even worse news…
Chapter 3
When I got back, Sabrina was pacing up and down the living room with her face in her hands.
“Sabrina? What’s wrong?” I whispered.
“Massimo.” She cried.
“What’s wrong? What about Uncle Massimo?” I asked. Sabrina ran out of the room, and upstairs to her room. I walked into the kitchen to see if Massimo or Sabrina had left me any tea or leftover pudding like they do if they’re really happy. But there wasn’t any sponge cake. Or Chocolate Pudding. Or even Welsh Cookies that Grandmar Kim sends over each month. But when I walked over to the cupboard I did see something. Massimo. Dead. He looked as if he had died from the exact same death as Mr Grey. He was white, with scars on either cheek, one slightly deeper than the other. I ran upstairs to comfort Sabrina. She was looking at a book with the words Massimo Lance’s diary, from 1850 to 1909 printed on the front. She looked up at me.
“I shouldn’t be reading it. He left it in his will. To you.” She said in between sobs.
Merrill Grey, Mr Grey’s wife (who as I said, split up with him) who was also in severe pain with the death of a close friend, who used to be a even closer friend came over to cook dinner that night. Sabrina and Merrill Grey are thinking of going to Pierce Tor, a detective about an hour away if your travelling on a bus, to investigate more in the deaths of Mr Grey and Massimo. I got lost in this conversation, so instead I read Massimo’s diary he left to me. In the front there was a note which said However I died, mourn for me day and night, Stella Hikari Lance, I leave this diary to you as it dose give the answers to some of the answers to the wondrous questions you ask. Keep it safe, from your now dead Uncle Massimo.
I read the first page.
About me
I am a friend to Christopher Grey and a son of Caroline Consort and also a son of Gunther Lance. I am twenty years old today (27th September, 1850) as I was born in 1830, a first child, though it was my brother Chaplain Lance who had the gift of a god.
Chaplain Lance. My farther. A God. But one thing which was weird- Massimo never said his age. And today was the 27th September 1909. Which meant, well today Massimo was eighty years old. He didn’t look old. He had dark skin, with jet black hair and green eyes that glimmered like a fox’s. I carried on reading.
I share a birthday with my best friend Christopher Grey, who his also twenty years old today. Here goes my first diary page:
27th September 1850
Today I was awaken by the sound of my younger brother Charlie (who shortly changed his name to Chaplain) singing happy birthday. Chaplain is going travelling tomorrow, to Lord Baldur’s mountains and he is taking me there too. Chaplain is two years younger than me, born in 1932 though he is much taller and much more gifted and powerful than me. We had Spanish Omelette for breakfast as my wife, Sabrina, who I married at the age of eighteen, is a quarter Spanish, as well as a quarter Welsh. My friends Raven Scrap and Natalie Scrap came over from Strange Town (Stalk Edge is the real name) to give me this diary as a gift. In the evening my parents threw a party with all my friends came over, and Christopher’s friends as we shared a party.
Chapter 4
Today we’re going to the detective’s lodge in Grecian Lane. Pierce Tor is one of the most Well Known Detectives around the city. We got up early (6 AM) and put on our clothes. And then walked to Mr Grey’s bus stop. There wasn’t any blood or anything, but Mr Grey’s body still seemed to lie there. Groaning. We got on a A40 bus and then got off again. This wasn’t Mr Grey’s bus stop, though it looked very alike. After a while we had arrived and were making our way towards the little wooden lodge that stood firmly on the snowy white ground. There was a red door, on the ground. Sabrina opened it up and started stepping down the cold, stone steps until we finally got to the bottom where we found ourselves in a small room with a oak floor covered in deep, blood red rugs with matching red sofas squashed together in a row. On the far side of the room there stood a reception desk with a rather wide lady behind it. On the creamy white walls were posters advertising the agency and other random things like spot cream, with the occasional misread quote underneath the picture on the poster. I looked at one poster in particular. It was a purple poster, advertising Pierce Tor, with a girl with tanned skin and dark brown hair. She was standing next to a man with a triangle of a beard and a brown suit, looking into his glittering green eyes.
“Sabrina, is that girl on the poster in love?” I asked, diligently . Sabrina looked around, embarrassed to see no one but a grumpy looking couple.
“That question isn’t really relevant. I’ll talk to you later.” She whispered, with gritted teeth. It was a perfectly revenant question!
The lady behind the desk sighed and looked down at her clip board.
“Name please?” She asked.
“Well, theres two of us. Merrill Grey and Sabrina Lance.” Merrill replied, stammering for words. The lady wrote something into her type writer and then asked us to sit down in one of the sofas. Within hours, a tall, slim lady with a dark black bob, and
It was a long time ago that my farther died, and just yesterday I turned twelve. How would I find my farther? And where will I find him? I know its stupid, trying to find my dead relative. But I know he can't be dead. My uncle has told me stories about how brave he was. Chaplain Lance. And I want to find more about my brother and mother. Please help me! I am the most desperate young writer you have ever had.
From Stella Hikari Eileen Lance
Dear Stella Hikari Eileen Lance,
As the guardian of the unknown Rocky Hill King who will be found hopefully in a short period of time I am able to tell you one answer to your questions. I know your farther is not dead as he was a true legend and a born god and of course, no great legend and myth or summed up as a god can die. So where will you find him? The answer to that is north, east, west, south. Write to me again Stella Lance.
From The Angel Of Rocky Hill
What is the matter with that simple question of where will I find my farther? North, east, west and south. That's impossible. But as uncle-said-my-dad-said-his-dad-said 'Nothing is impossible'. Well this is. The next morning, the sky was grey and the murky clouds were gathering up into a little group in the sky. The mansion was quiet as I stepped into my on suite bathroom, washed my face, cleaned my teeth and got dressed. Uncle was already in the dining room, when I got down, sipping coffee from Aunt Sabrina's finest mug.
"Uncle," I asked.
"Yes Stella."
"How do you go north, east, west and south." Uncle sniggered.
"The only person who knows that is Lord Baldur knows that and no-one knows if he even exists!"
"Then, why did the Angel Of Rocky Hill say that. He must know."
"Don't tell me you've been reading that crap. Its just a pair of idiots, teaming together to get your money by writing fake problem solvers to you."
Well thanks for your help uncle. I’m finding my farther and that is that!
Dear Angel Of Rocky Hill,
I utterly cannot stand my uncle Massimo anymore. He won’t show any interest in finding my farther what so ever. It’s just, money this and work that. Not even my Aunt Sabrina will talk to me nicely any more. Where will I find Lord Baldur? I have a bullet hole in my heart, and you could help it heal. Please tell me! Thank you,
Stella Hikari Eileen Lance
Dear Stella Hikari Lance,
You are really asking for a lot, Stella. If I unlocked the answers to your last questions I would be unlocking some of the answers of the world’s biggest secrets. I will answer your question. I cannot tell you where lord Baldur lives but here is a riddle to help you find out: A man walks through a cave, sunlight peeking through the holes, also walks next to him walks something as big as him but weighs nothing. Who is walking next to him? Write me again Stella Lance.
From The Angel Of Rocky Hill.
I haven’t explained myself properly. Here-I am called Stella Hikari Eileen Lance and was twelve years old one month ago. I live with my Auntie Sabrina and my uncle Massimo in a mansion in the country. I go to Crest Wood primary school, in class six. My farther, who is apparently a legend/myth is known to be dead, though Angel of Rocky hill doesn’t think that.
Chapter 2
I padded along the damp grass, until I came to the Mr Grey’s bus stop. I thought about the riddle. A man walks through a cave, sunlight peeking through the holes. Also walks something next to him, bigger but ways nothing. A SHADOW! That is it! But what dose it have to do with Lord Baldur.
When I got to the bus stop, people were gathered around the little shelter. There was a moan from inside the ring of people. I ran over, pushing my way to inside the ring of people to see Mr Grey lying on the ground. His skin was white with a red scar on either cheek. I dropped down on my knees, comforting him softly. But it was to late. He was dead.
Mr Grey isn’t the type of person you’d except anyone to murder. He was friendly with most people round the area, as of course he owned the buses that shot up and down the little streets of Crest Wood. He’s a small man, old too with a little grey pointy beard and no hair. He has these green, friendly eyes which make you feel safe and always smells like coffee or toast. I was good friends with him, though no enough of a good friend to call myself a good friend. He could have been murdered under my nose. Or was it murder? His scar had now stopped bleeding but his skin just seemed whiter than before. Why would anyone want to kill Mr Grey? Let’s think. People who didn’t like Mr Grey are: the wood choppers, and his wife. The wood choppers didn’t like him as he made the whole of Crest Wood protest. And as for his wife. Well, she didn’t like him as the broke up four years ago. But none of them would murder him. This was the first murder committed in Crest Wood for about ten years. But I had other jobs to do. Like finding Lord Baldur. Except once I’d ran back to tell Massimo the bad news, he had even worse news…
Chapter 3
When I got back, Sabrina was pacing up and down the living room with her face in her hands.
“Sabrina? What’s wrong?” I whispered.
“Massimo.” She cried.
“What’s wrong? What about Uncle Massimo?” I asked. Sabrina ran out of the room, and upstairs to her room. I walked into the kitchen to see if Massimo or Sabrina had left me any tea or leftover pudding like they do if they’re really happy. But there wasn’t any sponge cake. Or Chocolate Pudding. Or even Welsh Cookies that Grandmar Kim sends over each month. But when I walked over to the cupboard I did see something. Massimo. Dead. He looked as if he had died from the exact same death as Mr Grey. He was white, with scars on either cheek, one slightly deeper than the other. I ran upstairs to comfort Sabrina. She was looking at a book with the words Massimo Lance’s diary, from 1850 to 1909 printed on the front. She looked up at me.
“I shouldn’t be reading it. He left it in his will. To you.” She said in between sobs.
Merrill Grey, Mr Grey’s wife (who as I said, split up with him) who was also in severe pain with the death of a close friend, who used to be a even closer friend came over to cook dinner that night. Sabrina and Merrill Grey are thinking of going to Pierce Tor, a detective about an hour away if your travelling on a bus, to investigate more in the deaths of Mr Grey and Massimo. I got lost in this conversation, so instead I read Massimo’s diary he left to me. In the front there was a note which said However I died, mourn for me day and night, Stella Hikari Lance, I leave this diary to you as it dose give the answers to some of the answers to the wondrous questions you ask. Keep it safe, from your now dead Uncle Massimo.
I read the first page.
About me
I am a friend to Christopher Grey and a son of Caroline Consort and also a son of Gunther Lance. I am twenty years old today (27th September, 1850) as I was born in 1830, a first child, though it was my brother Chaplain Lance who had the gift of a god.
Chaplain Lance. My farther. A God. But one thing which was weird- Massimo never said his age. And today was the 27th September 1909. Which meant, well today Massimo was eighty years old. He didn’t look old. He had dark skin, with jet black hair and green eyes that glimmered like a fox’s. I carried on reading.
I share a birthday with my best friend Christopher Grey, who his also twenty years old today. Here goes my first diary page:
27th September 1850
Today I was awaken by the sound of my younger brother Charlie (who shortly changed his name to Chaplain) singing happy birthday. Chaplain is going travelling tomorrow, to Lord Baldur’s mountains and he is taking me there too. Chaplain is two years younger than me, born in 1932 though he is much taller and much more gifted and powerful than me. We had Spanish Omelette for breakfast as my wife, Sabrina, who I married at the age of eighteen, is a quarter Spanish, as well as a quarter Welsh. My friends Raven Scrap and Natalie Scrap came over from Strange Town (Stalk Edge is the real name) to give me this diary as a gift. In the evening my parents threw a party with all my friends came over, and Christopher’s friends as we shared a party.
Chapter 4
Today we’re going to the detective’s lodge in Grecian Lane. Pierce Tor is one of the most Well Known Detectives around the city. We got up early (6 AM) and put on our clothes. And then walked to Mr Grey’s bus stop. There wasn’t any blood or anything, but Mr Grey’s body still seemed to lie there. Groaning. We got on a A40 bus and then got off again. This wasn’t Mr Grey’s bus stop, though it looked very alike. After a while we had arrived and were making our way towards the little wooden lodge that stood firmly on the snowy white ground. There was a red door, on the ground. Sabrina opened it up and started stepping down the cold, stone steps until we finally got to the bottom where we found ourselves in a small room with a oak floor covered in deep, blood red rugs with matching red sofas squashed together in a row. On the far side of the room there stood a reception desk with a rather wide lady behind it. On the creamy white walls were posters advertising the agency and other random things like spot cream, with the occasional misread quote underneath the picture on the poster. I looked at one poster in particular. It was a purple poster, advertising Pierce Tor, with a girl with tanned skin and dark brown hair. She was standing next to a man with a triangle of a beard and a brown suit, looking into his glittering green eyes.
“Sabrina, is that girl on the poster in love?” I asked, diligently . Sabrina looked around, embarrassed to see no one but a grumpy looking couple.
“That question isn’t really relevant. I’ll talk to you later.” She whispered, with gritted teeth. It was a perfectly revenant question!
The lady behind the desk sighed and looked down at her clip board.
“Name please?” She asked.
“Well, theres two of us. Merrill Grey and Sabrina Lance.” Merrill replied, stammering for words. The lady wrote something into her type writer and then asked us to sit down in one of the sofas. Within hours, a tall, slim lady with a dark black bob, and
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Hi, heres a story. try and write a paragraph/page/more for it::Dear Angel Of Rocky Hill,
It was a long time ago that my farther died, and just yesterday I turned twelve. How would I find my farther? And where will I find him? I know its stupid, trying to find my dead relative. But I know he can't be dead. My uncle has told me stories about how brave he was. Chaplain Lance. And I want to find more about my brother and mother. Please help me! I am the most desperate young writer you have ever had.
From Stella Hikari Eileen Lance
Dear Stella Hikari Eileen Lance,
As the guardian of the unknown Rocky Hill King who will be found hopefully in a short period of time I am able to tell you one answer to your questions. I know your farther is not dead as he was a true legend and a born god and of course, no great legend and myth or summed up as a god can die. So where will you find him? The answer to that is north, east, west, south. Write to me again Stella Lance.
From The Angel Of Rocky Hill
What is the matter with that simple question of where will I find my farther? North, east, west and south. That's impossible. But as uncle-said-my-dad-said-his-dad-said 'Nothing is impossible'. Well this is. The next morning, the sky was grey and the murky clouds were gathering up into a little group in the sky. The mansion was quiet as I stepped into my on suite bathroom, washed my face, cleaned my teeth and got dressed. Uncle was already in the dining room, when I got down, sipping coffee from Aunt Sabrina's finest mug.
"Uncle," I asked.
"Yes Stella."
"How do you go north, east, west and south." Uncle sniggered.
"The only person who knows that is Lord Baldur knows that and no-one knows if he even exists!"
"Then, why did the Angel Of Rocky Hill say that. He must know."
"Don't tell me you've been reading that crap. Its just a pair of idiots, teaming together to get your money by writing fake problem solvers to you."
Well thanks for your help uncle. I’m finding my farther and that is that!
Dear Angel Of Rocky Hill,
I utterly cannot stand my uncle Massimo anymore. He won’t show any interest in finding my farther what so ever. It’s just, money this and work that. Not even my Aunt Sabrina will talk to me nicely any more. Where will I find Lord Baldur? I have a bullet hole in my heart, and you could help it heal. Please tell me! Thank you,
Stella Hikari Eileen Lance
Dear Stella Hikari Lance,
You are really asking for a lot, Stella. If I unlocked the answers to your last questions I would be unlocking some of the answers of the world’s biggest secrets. I will answer your question. I cannot tell you where lord Baldur lives but here is a riddle to help you find out: A man walks through a cave, sunlight peeking through the holes, also walks next to him walks something as big as him but weighs nothing. Who is walking next to him? Write me again Stella Lance.
From The Angel Of Rocky Hill.
I haven’t explained myself properly. Here-I am called Stella Hikari Eileen Lance and was twelve years old one month ago. I live with my Auntie Sabrina and my uncle Massimo in a mansion in the country. I go to Crest Wood primary school, in class six. My farther, who is apparently a legend/myth is known to be dead, though Angel of Rocky hill doesn’t think that.
Chapter 2
I padded along the damp grass, until I came to the Mr Grey’s bus stop. I thought about the riddle. A man walks through a cave, sunlight peeking through the holes. Also walks something next to him, bigger but ways nothing. A SHADOW! That is it! But what dose it have to do with Lord Baldur.
When I got to the bus stop, people were gathered around the little shelter. There was a moan from inside the ring of people. I ran over, pushing my way to inside the ring of people to see Mr Grey lying on the ground. His skin was white with a red scar on either cheek. I dropped down on my knees, comforting him softly. But it was to late. He was dead.
Mr Grey isn’t the type of person you’d except anyone to murder. He was friendly with most people round the area, as of course he owned the buses that shot up and down the little streets of Crest Wood. He’s a small man, old too with a little grey pointy beard and no hair. He has these green, friendly eyes which make you feel safe and always smells like coffee or toast. I was good friends with him, though no enough of a good friend to call myself a good friend. He could have been murdered under my nose. Or was it murder? His scar had now stopped bleeding but his skin just seemed whiter than before. Why would anyone want to kill Mr Grey? Let’s think. People who didn’t like Mr Grey are: the wood choppers, and his wife. The wood choppers didn’t like him as he made the whole of Crest Wood protest. And as for his wife. Well, she didn’t like him as the broke up four years ago. But none of them would murder him. This was the first murder committed in Crest Wood for about ten years. But I had other jobs to do. Like finding Lord Baldur. Except once I’d ran back to tell Massimo the bad news, he had even worse news…
Chapter 3
When I got back, Sabrina was pacing up and down the living room with her face in her hands.
“Sabrina? What’s wrong?” I whispered.
“Massimo.” She cried.
“What’s wrong? What about Uncle Massimo?” I asked. Sabrina ran out of the room, and upstairs to her room. I walked into the kitchen to see if Massimo or Sabrina had left me any tea or leftover pudding like they do if they’re really happy. But there wasn’t any sponge cake. Or Chocolate Pudding. Or even Welsh Cookies that Grandmar Kim sends over each month. But when I walked over to the cupboard I did see something. Massimo. Dead. He looked as if he had died from the exact same death as Mr Grey. He was white, with scars on either cheek, one slightly deeper than the other. I ran upstairs to comfort Sabrina. She was looking at a book with the words Massimo Lance’s diary, from 1850 to 1909 printed on the front. She looked up at me.
“I shouldn’t be reading it. He left it in his will. To you.” She said in between sobs.
Merrill Grey, Mr Grey’s wife (who as I said, split up with him) who was also in severe pain with the death of a close friend, who used to be a even closer friend came over to cook dinner that night. Sabrina and Merrill Grey are thinking of going to Pierce Tor, a detective about an hour away if your travelling on a bus, to investigate more in the deaths of Mr Grey and Massimo. I got lost in this conversation, so instead I read Massimo’s diary he left to me. In the front there was a note which said However I died, mourn for me day and night, Stella Hikari Lance, I leave this diary to you as it dose give the answers to some of the answers to the wondrous questions you ask. Keep it safe, from your now dead Uncle Massimo.
I read the first page.
About me
I am a friend to Christopher Grey and a son of Caroline Consort and also a son of Gunther Lance. I am twenty years old today (27th September, 1850) as I was born in 1830, a first child, though it was my brother Chaplain Lance who had the gift of a god.
Chaplain Lance. My farther. A God. But one thing which was weird- Massimo never said his age. And today was the 27th September 1909. Which meant, well today Massimo was eighty years old. He didn’t look old. He had dark skin, with jet black hair and green eyes that glimmered like a fox’s. I carried on reading.
I share a birthday with my best friend Christopher Grey, who his also twenty years old today. Here goes my first diary page:
27th September 1850
Today I was awaken by the sound of my younger brother Charlie (who shortly changed his name to Chaplain) singing happy birthday. Chaplain is going travelling tomorrow, to Lord Baldur’s mountains and he is taking me there too. Chaplain is two years younger than me, born in 1932 though he is much taller and much more gifted and powerful than me. We had Spanish Omelette for breakfast as my wife, Sabrina, who I married at the age of eighteen, is a quarter Spanish, as well as a quarter Welsh. My friends Raven Scrap and Natalie Scrap came over from Strange Town (Stalk Edge is the real name) to give me this diary as a gift. In the evening my parents threw a party with all my friends came over, and Christopher’s friends as we shared a party.
Chapter 4
Today we’re going to the detective’s lodge in Grecian Lane. Pierce Tor is one of the most Well Known Detectives around the city. We got up early (6 AM) and put on our clothes. And then walked to Mr Grey’s bus stop. There wasn’t any blood or anything, but Mr Grey’s body still seemed to lie there. Groaning. We got on a A40 bus and then got off again. This wasn’t Mr Grey’s bus stop, though it looked very alike. After a while we had arrived and were making our way towards the little wooden lodge that stood firmly on the snowy white ground. There was a red door, on the ground. Sabrina opened it up and started stepping down the cold, stone steps until we finally got to the bottom where we found ourselves in a small room with a oak floor covered in deep, blood red rugs with matching red sofas squashed together in a row. On the far side of the room there stood a reception desk with a rather wide lady behind it. On the creamy white walls were posters advertising the agency and other random things like spot cream, with the occasional misread quote underneath the picture on the poster. I looked at one poster in particular. It was a purple poster, advertising Pierce Tor, with a girl with tanned skin and dark brown hair. She was standing next to a man with a triangle of a beard and a brown suit, looking into his glittering green eyes.
“Sabrina, is that girl on the poster in love?” I asked, diligently . Sabrina looked around, embarrassed to see no one but a grumpy looking couple.
“That question isn’t really relevant. I’ll talk to you later.” She whispered, with gritted teeth. It was a perfectly revenant question!
The lady behind the desk sighed and looked down at her clip board.
“Name please?” She asked.
“Well, theres two of us. Merrill Grey and Sabrina Lance.” Merrill replied, stammering for words. The lady wrote something into her type writer and then asked us to sit down in one of the sofas. Within hours, a tall, slim lady with a dark black bob, and
It was a long time ago that my farther died, and just yesterday I turned twelve. How would I find my farther? And where will I find him? I know its stupid, trying to find my dead relative. But I know he can't be dead. My uncle has told me stories about how brave he was. Chaplain Lance. And I want to find more about my brother and mother. Please help me! I am the most desperate young writer you have ever had.
From Stella Hikari Eileen Lance
Dear Stella Hikari Eileen Lance,
As the guardian of the unknown Rocky Hill King who will be found hopefully in a short period of time I am able to tell you one answer to your questions. I know your farther is not dead as he was a true legend and a born god and of course, no great legend and myth or summed up as a god can die. So where will you find him? The answer to that is north, east, west, south. Write to me again Stella Lance.
From The Angel Of Rocky Hill
What is the matter with that simple question of where will I find my farther? North, east, west and south. That's impossible. But as uncle-said-my-dad-said-his-dad-said 'Nothing is impossible'. Well this is. The next morning, the sky was grey and the murky clouds were gathering up into a little group in the sky. The mansion was quiet as I stepped into my on suite bathroom, washed my face, cleaned my teeth and got dressed. Uncle was already in the dining room, when I got down, sipping coffee from Aunt Sabrina's finest mug.
"Uncle," I asked.
"Yes Stella."
"How do you go north, east, west and south." Uncle sniggered.
"The only person who knows that is Lord Baldur knows that and no-one knows if he even exists!"
"Then, why did the Angel Of Rocky Hill say that. He must know."
"Don't tell me you've been reading that crap. Its just a pair of idiots, teaming together to get your money by writing fake problem solvers to you."
Well thanks for your help uncle. I’m finding my farther and that is that!
Dear Angel Of Rocky Hill,
I utterly cannot stand my uncle Massimo anymore. He won’t show any interest in finding my farther what so ever. It’s just, money this and work that. Not even my Aunt Sabrina will talk to me nicely any more. Where will I find Lord Baldur? I have a bullet hole in my heart, and you could help it heal. Please tell me! Thank you,
Stella Hikari Eileen Lance
Dear Stella Hikari Lance,
You are really asking for a lot, Stella. If I unlocked the answers to your last questions I would be unlocking some of the answers of the world’s biggest secrets. I will answer your question. I cannot tell you where lord Baldur lives but here is a riddle to help you find out: A man walks through a cave, sunlight peeking through the holes, also walks next to him walks something as big as him but weighs nothing. Who is walking next to him? Write me again Stella Lance.
From The Angel Of Rocky Hill.
I haven’t explained myself properly. Here-I am called Stella Hikari Eileen Lance and was twelve years old one month ago. I live with my Auntie Sabrina and my uncle Massimo in a mansion in the country. I go to Crest Wood primary school, in class six. My farther, who is apparently a legend/myth is known to be dead, though Angel of Rocky hill doesn’t think that.
Chapter 2
I padded along the damp grass, until I came to the Mr Grey’s bus stop. I thought about the riddle. A man walks through a cave, sunlight peeking through the holes. Also walks something next to him, bigger but ways nothing. A SHADOW! That is it! But what dose it have to do with Lord Baldur.
When I got to the bus stop, people were gathered around the little shelter. There was a moan from inside the ring of people. I ran over, pushing my way to inside the ring of people to see Mr Grey lying on the ground. His skin was white with a red scar on either cheek. I dropped down on my knees, comforting him softly. But it was to late. He was dead.
Mr Grey isn’t the type of person you’d except anyone to murder. He was friendly with most people round the area, as of course he owned the buses that shot up and down the little streets of Crest Wood. He’s a small man, old too with a little grey pointy beard and no hair. He has these green, friendly eyes which make you feel safe and always smells like coffee or toast. I was good friends with him, though no enough of a good friend to call myself a good friend. He could have been murdered under my nose. Or was it murder? His scar had now stopped bleeding but his skin just seemed whiter than before. Why would anyone want to kill Mr Grey? Let’s think. People who didn’t like Mr Grey are: the wood choppers, and his wife. The wood choppers didn’t like him as he made the whole of Crest Wood protest. And as for his wife. Well, she didn’t like him as the broke up four years ago. But none of them would murder him. This was the first murder committed in Crest Wood for about ten years. But I had other jobs to do. Like finding Lord Baldur. Except once I’d ran back to tell Massimo the bad news, he had even worse news…
Chapter 3
When I got back, Sabrina was pacing up and down the living room with her face in her hands.
“Sabrina? What’s wrong?” I whispered.
“Massimo.” She cried.
“What’s wrong? What about Uncle Massimo?” I asked. Sabrina ran out of the room, and upstairs to her room. I walked into the kitchen to see if Massimo or Sabrina had left me any tea or leftover pudding like they do if they’re really happy. But there wasn’t any sponge cake. Or Chocolate Pudding. Or even Welsh Cookies that Grandmar Kim sends over each month. But when I walked over to the cupboard I did see something. Massimo. Dead. He looked as if he had died from the exact same death as Mr Grey. He was white, with scars on either cheek, one slightly deeper than the other. I ran upstairs to comfort Sabrina. She was looking at a book with the words Massimo Lance’s diary, from 1850 to 1909 printed on the front. She looked up at me.
“I shouldn’t be reading it. He left it in his will. To you.” She said in between sobs.
Merrill Grey, Mr Grey’s wife (who as I said, split up with him) who was also in severe pain with the death of a close friend, who used to be a even closer friend came over to cook dinner that night. Sabrina and Merrill Grey are thinking of going to Pierce Tor, a detective about an hour away if your travelling on a bus, to investigate more in the deaths of Mr Grey and Massimo. I got lost in this conversation, so instead I read Massimo’s diary he left to me. In the front there was a note which said However I died, mourn for me day and night, Stella Hikari Lance, I leave this diary to you as it dose give the answers to some of the answers to the wondrous questions you ask. Keep it safe, from your now dead Uncle Massimo.
I read the first page.
About me
I am a friend to Christopher Grey and a son of Caroline Consort and also a son of Gunther Lance. I am twenty years old today (27th September, 1850) as I was born in 1830, a first child, though it was my brother Chaplain Lance who had the gift of a god.
Chaplain Lance. My farther. A God. But one thing which was weird- Massimo never said his age. And today was the 27th September 1909. Which meant, well today Massimo was eighty years old. He didn’t look old. He had dark skin, with jet black hair and green eyes that glimmered like a fox’s. I carried on reading.
I share a birthday with my best friend Christopher Grey, who his also twenty years old today. Here goes my first diary page:
27th September 1850
Today I was awaken by the sound of my younger brother Charlie (who shortly changed his name to Chaplain) singing happy birthday. Chaplain is going travelling tomorrow, to Lord Baldur’s mountains and he is taking me there too. Chaplain is two years younger than me, born in 1932 though he is much taller and much more gifted and powerful than me. We had Spanish Omelette for breakfast as my wife, Sabrina, who I married at the age of eighteen, is a quarter Spanish, as well as a quarter Welsh. My friends Raven Scrap and Natalie Scrap came over from Strange Town (Stalk Edge is the real name) to give me this diary as a gift. In the evening my parents threw a party with all my friends came over, and Christopher’s friends as we shared a party.
Chapter 4
Today we’re going to the detective’s lodge in Grecian Lane. Pierce Tor is one of the most Well Known Detectives around the city. We got up early (6 AM) and put on our clothes. And then walked to Mr Grey’s bus stop. There wasn’t any blood or anything, but Mr Grey’s body still seemed to lie there. Groaning. We got on a A40 bus and then got off again. This wasn’t Mr Grey’s bus stop, though it looked very alike. After a while we had arrived and were making our way towards the little wooden lodge that stood firmly on the snowy white ground. There was a red door, on the ground. Sabrina opened it up and started stepping down the cold, stone steps until we finally got to the bottom where we found ourselves in a small room with a oak floor covered in deep, blood red rugs with matching red sofas squashed together in a row. On the far side of the room there stood a reception desk with a rather wide lady behind it. On the creamy white walls were posters advertising the agency and other random things like spot cream, with the occasional misread quote underneath the picture on the poster. I looked at one poster in particular. It was a purple poster, advertising Pierce Tor, with a girl with tanned skin and dark brown hair. She was standing next to a man with a triangle of a beard and a brown suit, looking into his glittering green eyes.
“Sabrina, is that girl on the poster in love?” I asked, diligently . Sabrina looked around, embarrassed to see no one but a grumpy looking couple.
“That question isn’t really relevant. I’ll talk to you later.” She whispered, with gritted teeth. It was a perfectly revenant question!
The lady behind the desk sighed and looked down at her clip board.
“Name please?” She asked.
“Well, theres two of us. Merrill Grey and Sabrina Lance.” Merrill replied, stammering for words. The lady wrote something into her type writer and then asked us to sit down in one of the sofas. Within hours, a tall, slim lady with a dark black bob, and