Free-Spirited Writers group~ Forum Co-writing?

A small sample of some of my writing from a story titled "A Trip to the Dragon's Lair".   Stepping out of the dust and boulders raining down all around, came a creature a good thirty cubits tall.Looking like some statue hewn roughly from a collection of assorted rocks and boulders barring down, in a menacing manner, on the old man.On recognizing what he saw, the wizard dropped to his knees and bowed,scarcely believing his eyes,with fear quaking in his heart.No mere stone golum, not even a lesser earth elemental,the type that the greatest of wizards summoned on occasion in order to petition for aid.No this was rock and earth incarnate,taking on a strange form, a spirit of creation older then time itself.

"Who comes here, to this place, my abode and disturbs the peace", asked the spirit in a voice which sounded like great boulders in the deep of the earth, being scraped together."It is I, Alphonse of the Istari,simple servant of the balance and forest friend",answered the wizard in a breaking voice."We meant no trespass,great lord",he continued,"as we wandered here accidentally on our quest to find the last clutch of dragon eggs in order to see them hatched and dragonkind again returned to it's rightful place in the skies above".

"I will allow you and your mortal friends passage then",came the great spirit's reply,"but you must do something for me, to earn this boon that I grant to thee." "Anything,great lord, you have but to ask it",spoke the wizard."Take then my words to men, those wise enough to hear and heed this warning,the balance is greatly disturbed by the meddling of man's hand". "Soon the rein of the demented,bumbling, child king over creation will be at an end if this balance is not restored"."Man was granted the crown for a time but not the keys to the kingdom,mankind was never meant to have the wisdom necessary for that"."Now go! for time is short" spoke the spirit a last time. The wizard raised up an pulled a bag from his belt and spoke something unheard. The wagon,horses and all, was sucked up into the mouth of the bag and the wizard ran off down the dusty trail as fast as his old bones would bare.No longer green but now the color of the dust,which still hung in the air,except for the tracts made by the tears which had streamed down his face and into his beard.