Home

Stories

Jon Burle / pov / prologue

Submitted by TheScribe on Tue, 02/02/2010 - 04:06
Posted in


There was nothing to eat he knew. The last of the salt meat had made the thin stew that bubbled in the pot. Jon looked round the one roomed stone shack grimly, the crude bed with grey homespun blankets sat against the back wall, old dark wood chest in the corner containing his few clothes, fire and pot on the rough hearth. Little enough for a man to keep himself this side of the living. There had been a time he knew, when he saw the hovel as something more, but that time was gone. “I’ll leave on the morrow” he said aloud, though there was no one to hear.

The Ascendant's Journal (Exerpt)

Submitted by Matthew Enule on Fri, 01/29/2010 - 22:48
Posted in

4th of Dest, Andrel 893

The Vagabonds

Submitted by NeillWhy on Sun, 08/02/2009 - 18:02
Posted in

Jerl shuddered as a drop of cold water ran off his helmet and coldly dripped into the gap between his coat of mail and his rough shirt. He grasped the sodden haft of his spear in a tight grip as he looked towards the tent of his employer’s, the self-named Vagabonds.

How fat Po lost his shoes.

Submitted by spleen23 on Wed, 07/22/2009 - 05:03
Posted in

Loa Ki crept along the dark alleyway, his bare feet coming down toe first to make each step in silence, his eyes half closed as he focused for the sound of the creature that had been on a killing spree in the Etraku district.

The stench of the tanneries had made tracking down the creature by scent impossible forcing Ki out into the night to haunt the alleys like a common thief in hopes of running into it by mere happenstance.

Hours of frustrated searching later he had finally came to a stop squatting down and leaning back against the side of a hovel, the rough surface of the woven reed wall easily piercing the thin faded gray cloth of his robe to dig into his skin.

Nick Gets A Roommate

Submitted by killingthemonkey on Fri, 07/10/2009 - 00:17

Bradley walked into Nick's apartment.

"Hey, dude! We're going to be late for the movie!"

"Hold on, I'll be right out."

"I'm going to grab a soda out of the fridge." Bradley walked into the kitchen to see a short figure staring back at him.

"Umm... Nick? Who's the kid?"

Nick walked into the kitchen toweling his hair.

"Him? That's Larry. He's not a kid. See the beard?"

"But... He's so short."

"Dude, he's a gnome."

"A gnome. You're trying to tell me that the two foot tall guy with a beard standing here in a brilliant blue smock and a red pointed hat is a gnome."

"Yep."

"He's wearing chaps."

"Yeah, well Larry has become hooked on the old west. He's really handy. I don't have do housework at all any more. Watch

"Larry, pick up the living room, please."

The Anarchian War: On Broken Wings 2

Submitted by Uchiha-Thief on Fri, 07/03/2009 - 19:01
Posted in

The sun shone down heavily on the Haeyan Marketplace. Stalls covered in bright cloth lined the streets and shopkeepers called out their wares to the passing common folk. Two Elite lounged against the side of a building, wearing the white uniform of Street Guards. The taller of the two, a male, watched each passerby warily while the sitting female, cleaned one of her shuriken lazily. The male flipped his dark red hair idly. “Come on Dair, let’s go somewhere,” he said impatiently. Dair glared up at him. “It’s to hot to do anything. I’m not moving. Besides, this is our post, Alantis.” “It’s Alan.” Alan reprimanded, looking out into the crowds.

Martyr or Monster: 02

Submitted by nathan on Sat, 06/20/2009 - 15:15
Posted in

The ri'a shamaness circled the fire slowly; her eyes assessed every one of the assembled crowd. As she stepped she shivered her wing-arms -- her feathers created a susurrus that blended with the chimes of her headdress and the barely audible beat her acolyte played on a drum.

Asha sat cross-legged before the fire in front of his assembled acolytes. The shamaness moved closer -- every step was deliberate and sinuous, while her arms kept up the susurrus and slid through their own arcs. Asha took in every motion of the slow dance as she approached. Her circuit eventually brought her before him and she stopped. The shamaness knelt so they were face to face, and he breathed deep and took in the heady scent of her perfume. She reached out with her delicate long-fingered hands and grasped the sides of Asha's head.

Martyr of Monster: 01

Submitted by nathan on Sat, 06/20/2009 - 15:06
Posted in

"Trees as far as the eye can see in every direction. From the top of the highest point of the world -- which is itself some bizarre tree -- all you can see is forest. From the seas to the mountains, every bit of this world is infested with fecund forms of life." The governor turned from the window of his office and looked at his vice-governor. "I used to enjoy walking through the forests of Illumel, but here there is no place for men beneath the canopy," he sighed and shook his head.

The preemptive reunion

Submitted by spleen23 on Fri, 06/19/2009 - 21:06

Matthew Zerrelli came stomping into Badger’s on Monday just before noon, he snarled out a demand for beer to the gal working the bar and starting slamming them back as quick as she brought them.

Matthew Zerreli was in a bad mood.

Seems old Matt has gotten laid off from his job that morning, then had gone home to share the news with the wife, which lead to the yelling and shouting, which led to their newborn waking up in a screaming fit, sending the wife into more hysterics.

Which of course led to Mattie boy giving her the back of his hand.

The Tide

Submitted by Theredepic on Tue, 06/09/2009 - 18:02

The soldiers fought like mad men, each one swinging his weapons wildly at the enemy who had surrounded them. The link had been closed and the band of soldiers was far from their allies to the West. Though each man knew that survival was but a slim chance, the ranks were maintained as best they could, and the men of Eior' Onaln held fast under mounting pressure. Some were terrified, others were invigorated, the battle degenerating into a fight of self control and willpower. Under such pressure instinct took over, and Maurice was no different, his body reflexive and open to all the sensory information that could help it to survive. He thrust out wards with his heavy halberd and bit deeply into a Possessed's leg, feeling that he had notched the man's thigh, and cracked it through.