Write and WIN!!

Hello every body this is Griendly Nutella ( ) here to give you all a chance to show your story writing capabilatys Below is a incomplete story I am currently writing for my latest strict rp server called Uthandersomethingblahblahblah idk. Anyway your goal is to read the story and then complete it in almost anyway you see fit. I will add some ground rules first off so there is random crap

RULES: You may not alter the origanal story besides fixxing typos and changing names, You may not write more then 5 paragraphs (paragraphs here will be approximated by the size of the original story paragraphs) and no less then one, You may not get heavily adult (although suggestive is allowed, lets keep this pg), You may not swear when unneeded (for the same reason of the last rule), You may not meta game (this story is based in a midevil time and unless you can explain why there are robo dinos, then no robo dinos.
I think that covers everything, enjoy the challenge and may the best writer win.

Deep in a large forest, by a glade and waterfall fed clear pond, there lived an old nymph, though few could tell her age; nymphs are gifted with eternal beauty and youth, you see. The nymphs name was Rallie, and she had lived in these woods for but a few decades, not long by her standards. Her old home was next to the long forgotten, or so she assumed, ruins of a mages tower. She had lived there for many centuries in a deep crystalline cavern which entrance snaked up to an abandoned, yet wondrous, garden the old mages had made. The flora of the enchanted garden had survived, tended by arcane servants, forever beautiful and majestic; although one trip down the diamond embroidered gateway to the caves made the garden look pale and mundane. She had moved far from that marvelous spot, of alchemic herbs and flowers with and tourmaline titanite beneath, since its tragic recidivating. She didn't like to think of how it was after she left, but spent whole seasons drifting in the waters of her new home half asleep, thinking about it as it was before. One day a traveler came with his familiar partner, this is where the story of Rolth begins, or at least it’s first telling.

A young battle mage clad in tattered robes turned adventure and merc limped through the dark forest. Behind him he dragged his iron-clad partner by the horns of his helmet. The wizard, named Jellum, wore robes that used to be his pride and joy, for he had spent most of the gold he earned from his journeys on getting the ingredients and training to enchant the robes. He thought of the robes as a symbol for all that he had done, every tear in the fabric a battle scare, every new charm added a victory and progress. A trip though the wrong side of the woods had changed his mind very quickly.

While he and his partner had walked through the forest they had talked and joked of all the hardships they had faced to finally get to the center of these woods. Unbeknown to the magi's partner, the battle mage had been drinking out of their mug of ever fullness and forgot to tell his companion to take watch. As it so happened, his fellow adventurer was not watching, or trying very hard, where he was going, and stepped into a fairy ring. The magi called Jellum glanced over laughing, thinking his old friend had tripped and fallen, before realizing that he was Unconscious Jellum kneeled down and tried to wake him, before noticing the toadstools that were around the slumbering merc. Jellum cursed, grabbed the heap of magically bound deadweight, and started to drag him away hoping the local fairies would be too intimidated by his arcane robes to bother him. Jellum wasn't a fortunate man that day, and the fairies, on the contrast, found it very bemusing to start wrecking the enchanted cloth. Jellum shouted in vainly at them to be gone as he hunched over his partner's form; dragging it away while the fairies delighted in slicing the fabric with their tiny claws and blades. When Jellum saw what the mischievous creatures were doing he practically shrieked.
“No no no no no no!” he yelled, and sent out a burst of arcane force. It knocked away the little devils for a second, but like a swarm of gnats they pursued him. He started to chant an impromptu ward, but tripped over a root and twisted his ankle before he could get the spell out. Yelling profanities at the winged nightmares, he got up, finished his ward, and dragged the limp form next to him away.