Storythread

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>>51999052

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>>51999176

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>>51999333

>>51999052
So we're supposed to share story we wrote (and all the world and how it works patati patata) or a story that happens in our roleplay?

>>51999917
the former. Or the latter, if it's written from the point of view of the character and NOT your point of view as you're playing the character.

Basically any fiction writing is acceptable. If you're still not sure, you can see from the wiki page what stuff we're after.

>>51999917
The primary purpose of these threads is create a ground for amateur writers to share their work and exercise in writing. It does not matter that much where the story comes from, but it would be nice if you present a literary work of some kind, rather than a greentext story or something.

>>52000278
>>52001023
So I can tell the story about how my rpg world is born for exemple?
I'm sorry if I seem stupid or something, but I can't access the wiki/storythread

>>52001035
Yep, if you can make it an interesting read. Just keep in mind that people will probably focus on your writing more than about implications for world-building or gameplay here... Otherwise, there are little rules about what people can write about. Just keep in mind that if it's not going to be interesting read, people won't read it and you won't get much feedback...

>>52001035
>I'm sorry if I seem stupid or something, but I can't access the wiki/storythread
http://1d4chan.org/wiki/Storythread

huh, link works for me. Is your connection timing out or is your browser just not recognising the address?

>>52001443
Seems like it's just the browser that can't recognise it.
I'm on a old phone you see...

>>51999052
Alright, here's a bit of fun through the eyes of my World of Darkness character. By fun, I mean he almost died. Again.

[----------------------------]
As Eli trudged throw the snow, naked as the day he was born, he began to reconsider the choices he made in life.

Granted, the last few weeks haven't presented him with all that many.

He really didn't have much in the way of choice after he got dragged into the woods by a werewolf...which also killed his dog (what a dick).

He probably didn't have much of a choice after he got pulled into a world that looks like a bad acid trip on bad acid by a cat spirit feeling peckish.

He DEFINITELY didn't have any choice after the damn thing taunting him set off his first change.

Now, the fact that ripping the thing in two and roaring at the pieces would have been duly considered at the time is besides the point.

Getting an arm and leg chopped off by some passing Uratha sure as hell IS.

Two weeks later, having learned just how messed the world actually is, having made a mortal enemy out of an elder, and joining the Iron Masters out of sheer instinct, he came to the thing that really bothered him the most about not having a choice after the First Change.

The things you have to do are god damned BIZARRE.

If someone had told Eli a month ago that he would be trudging through the snow to find and kill a cat spirit with something that looks like a brass knuckle screwed a katar, BUCK NAKED, he would've told them to kindly fuck off.

Now, it was only when he realized that this is his new normal that Eli really started to consider his life choices.

He wasn't impressed.

Such was his frame of mind as he approached the place where he was first introduced to papa wolf and mama moon, and where he introduced Hunts the Rage to his own innards.

(con't)

>>52003843
You may ask: why go back to some god-forsaken neck of the woods where you nearly got killed just to kill some cat that's not bothering you anyway?

Well, the quick answer to that is a fetish.

No not that kind, asshole. The kind where you stuff a spirit into an item to give it magic bullshit.

Since the pack had more or less decided that the cat was going to be put into Eli's knuckle-duster (which, let me tell you, looked like a spiked brass knuckle hate-fucked a katar), he couldn't really make anyone else go.

Now, apparently when you get sent from the material world to the Shadow without a locus, you can't wear any clothes; dedicated or not.

So, here he was: having a nice, long walk in the snow, wearing nothing but his hide and a weapon so illegal, it makes switchblades look cute.

After trying, and FAILING, to find the cat's den, Eli decided that he was going to do this the quick way.

So, with all the force an Urshual can muster. he screamed into the heavens:

HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS THHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEE RRRRRAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGEEEE!

Having successfully gotten the cat's attention (and probably set off car alarms in a nearby town), he decided to do the smart thing: sneak attack the bastard and take him down easy.

He shifted down into Uhran, and began the hunt.

For hours he stalked through the underbrush, listening, waiting, and sniffing for that damn cat.

Naturally, he bumped right into the damn thing without either noticing the other was there.

In a bizarre moment of kinship between man and spirit, between mortal enemies, they both thought, as one:

"So it's that kind of day."

Then, they fought.

Faster than Eli could react, the cat pounced. Digging its claws into the young Uratha, it spat and snapped, trying to close its jaws around his neck.

In hindsight, grappling with an Uratha, even a young one, was a very poor decision.

>>52004088
Within moments of its first strike, a normal-sized wolf had become taller, bulkier, and angrier.

So, so much angrier.

Since the cat had been so kind as to get within grabbing range, the now much stronger Uratha pinned the cat to the ground and started driving the now much larger knuckle into the cat's belly.

The cat struggled for dear, sweet life, and with a frantic kick managed to catch Eli in the arm, loosening his grip and freeing itself.

With a strength born from desperation, the cat leapt towards its attacker and sunk its teeth into his throat.

The bite brought him pain unbearable.

The pain brought him rage unending.

With a thunderous roar, the creature that was once a man tore the cat from its neck and threw it to the ground like a rag-doll.

With feline grace, Hunts the Rage managed to land on its feet and face its enemy.

Then, it saw what had happened.

What was before an intelligent being, a thinking creature with a mind of its own, had become something far greater, and far more ancient.

The death rage had come, and the destroyer had emerged.

With the wrath of an angry god, the wolf leapt at the cat, roaring with hate and rage.

Before the cat could react, it had found itself pinned once again.

This time, the werewolf would not let go.

Snarling, spitting, mad with fear, Hunts the Rage clawed and bit and kicked, desperate to get away from the force of destruction that loomed over it now.

Heedless of pain, heedless of injury, the wolf did nothing but attack.

The cat raked its claws across the wolf's face, and still it attacked.

The cat tore the flesh from its arms, and still it attacked.

The cat ripped out one of its eyes, and still it attacked.

Finally, with a blow that landed with a sickening crunch, the wolf drove the bladed knuckle through the cat's belly, and out its back.

It didn't stop.

With an unholy sound that would have stopped any other beast, the destroyer drove the blade farther up.

>>52004399
Left to its own devices, the destroyer would have torn the corpse in half with nothing but a bladed knuckle.

However, within moments of the wolf driving its weapon into the body, the knuckle began to devour it.

In the blink of an eye, where Hunt the Rage's body once lay there was nothing more than a bloody pile of snow.

Pulsing with new life, the weapon used in the merciless murder hummed with power well-contained, runes and inscriptions carving themselves upon the metal.

Of course, the destroyer cared only for one important detail.

It had no more prey to kill.

It roared to the heavens, damning the world that had deprived it of it sport.

Then, a new scent rode on the wind.

With a snarl, the wolf sniffed rabidly, devouring the air itself to seek its quarry.

It quickly recognized the scent.

Uratha.

Competition.

Prey.

With a howl of rage, the mad wolf bounded towards the source of the scent, slavering and snarling like a beast possessed.

The destroyer was hungry, and it would be fed with blood.

>>52004576
Storyteller here. This marks the end of the part where my character's alone, and I wouldn't want to involve other characters without talking to their owner. If anyone actually cares enough about this, I could tack a little bit more, but nothing all that exciting. Let me know what you thought of it, thanks for reading.

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Well I've decided to make a slight continuation I did for "Lessons." Read it here:

>https://1d4chan.org/images/4/4e/Lessons.png

Also you may read "The Declaration of Surrendependence" to get some context in this story's lore:

>https://1d4chan.org/images/d/de/TheDeclarationOfSurrendependence.png

>pic seen is what the featured character: Weland Faulkner looks like

###

-Month of Netihm, Day: Brigh, Year 1920
-Current Location: Fort Ernmore, Wiverst Countryside, Briastrin

It was a weekend in the continent of Briastrin and the Faulkner twins are going to be having a weekend's rest.

After a pop quiz and more lectures in Briastrin's and Chimax's history and the Cedna Accord's accomplishments. Ethelhild "Ethel" Faulkner was delighted to learn that she was going to be taken on a trip to the nearby Braistrinian City of Barton Ridge. There she will be accompanied by her tutors; Captain Bethany Cameron and Elven Mage Vulmar Sarsalr. Both Bethany and Vulmar figured it was about time Ethel learned a thing or two about the modernized lifestyle of Braistrin, to which Bethany and Vulmar's superiors approved of.

But Ethel's older brother, Weland Faulkner. Was going to be having a slightly different routine, he was going to be having another meetup with the daughter of a Briastrinian politician, Half-Elf Lucia Ingraham.

Weland Faulkner being one of the children of the now deceased Empress Dannya Faulkner of Eustran, he is very much royalty. Even with the dismantlement of Eustran's royalty and nobility he and Ethel still had their "noble" status that was mostly now used as celebrity status throughout the Cedna Accord.

Weland Faulkner originally aspired to be a great warrior, or a paladin and champion who'd fight for his mother's name, dynasty and honor. That is until the Cedna Accord came rolling in, wrecked their shit and have now effectively conquered Eustran despite a few rebellions here and there from those who refused to bow down to the Cedna Accord.

>>52010230
I can strangely imagine Micheal Jackson's Thriller playing.

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>>51999052
Bump

Someone last week wanted me to point out that there's a discord group for writers, which naturally I forgot to include in the OP because I'm an idiot like that.

https://discord.gg/6AwKHGF

>>52003843
>>52004088
>>52004399
>>52004576
Good work, anon. I'm not that familiar with WoD so I couldn't follow a lot of what was going on, but your writing's okay. The one thing I would say is that you don't need to start a new line after a single sentence; it makes it feel a bit disjointed - although the way you present it is still MUCH better than posting a single block of text.

And it's nice to see someone involving their gaming character in their writing. I think too many people assume that we don't want stories linked to their campaigns, when it's just that we don't want non-fiction greentext stories (which is the sort of thing most people think when someone says 'campaign story').

>>52015713
Thanks for the feedback. I'll keep the spacing in mind.

>>52015713
Did you join the discord, guy?

>>52015713
are u in the discord and if not why arent u

who is chronicle

>>52020591
>>52020594
Stop shilling your cancerous circlejerk chat client you fucking morons.

>>52020591
>>52020594
I'm not in the discord because I barely have time to write anything, let alone discuss what I'm writing. If it's your sort of thing good for you, but it's not really for me.

>>52020606
be nice

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Columbia to Ground Control
Columbia to Ground Control

We just got a shipment. No idea how it came.
Can anyone explain why there's a tank on the moon?
Are the Chinese trying to one-up us again?
It's strange though. The thing's totally empty.
Don't even see a base or anything.

Not even sure how you can even drive it.
Thing doesn't even has keys,
And we hardly even fit.
So all we can do is leave it where it is.

>Ground Control to Columbia
>Ground Control to Columbia

>So you're telling us that there's a tank on the moon?
>How the hell did that happen?
>We don't even know how to deal with that.
>Are you even sure that thing can work even?

>Well, in any case, just...crap, I have no freaking clue, Columbia...
>I dunno, just...put a club on it, break something.
>Long as the Chinese can't use it, we don't have to worry about them colonizing the moon anytime soon.
>Ground Control Out

>>52008889
Weland Faulkner, now under the care of the Cedna Accord along with her sister. Are basically being trained, treated, and groomed to become pawns or courtiers. And that was pretty much it; both Ehtel and Weland were to become basically courtiers who’d be paired to be the spouse of a politician or Cednan Official’s child. Weland was already paired with Briastrinian Senator Bradley Ingraham and elven wizardess Lura Bryrel’s half-elf daughter, Lucia.

Which is why Weland now spends the rest of his days playing around with Lucia Bryrel Ingraham, not that he “enjoys” playing with Lucia, but he is simply doing it for the sake of obligation and also for his sister. He sometimes fears and believes that if he does not comply with treaty rules, or play along with being a courtier to be paired with an official’s daughter, bad thing may happen upon his sister Ethel. So he plays along.

“I’m gonna go on a trip!” Ethel gleefully said to her brother Weland who was getting ready in dressing up to be leaving for another playdate with Lucia Bryrel Ingraham. “Miss Cameron and Mister Sarsalor are gonna take me to a big city of Barton Ridge, they’ll take me out for lunch, a ‘field trip’ in a museum, and take me to something they call a movie. Which Mister Sarsalor said is a ‘moving picture show,’ I’m excited for this weekend brother, are you? You’re gonna be on another play time with Lucia.”

Weland chuckled to his sister and said as he was buttoning up his coat. “Well… Yes, you can say that. Mostly it’d be Lucia who’d be glad to see me.”

“You gonna be playing dress up, dolls and pretend?”

“Yes… Lucia, being a child of her age loves playing such things...” Weland said quietly to himself. “-Even though I myself can do better with my skills.”

“What was that brother?”

“Oh uh, nothing Ethel my dear sister.”

Then there was a knock on the door of Weland and Ethel’s room.

>>52023987
A Cedna Accord Official opened the door ajar to announce. “Captain Cameron and Wizard Sarsalor are here to pick you up. Get ready soon, they’re coming.”

Weland and Ethel were already done dressing up before that announcement even begun, so they just put one some perfume and some fragrance to smell good. They were now ready to go out just as another knock came and came in elven wizard/mage Vulmar Sarsalor, Ethel’s second tutor and mentor. “Good to see both of you groomed, dressed and ready to go.” He said with a soft smile.

“Oh I can’t believe we’re going to a big city. I wonder how the big cities here in Briastrin? How different they are to the cities of Eustran when mommy once took me out once?”

“You’ll soon find out Ethel, now come on. Captain Cameron is waiting for us in the car.” Vulmar Sarsalor said as he held Ethel’s hand. Ethel walked along with her elven mentor with Weland following behind, Vulmar, Weland and Ethel walked down the halls of Fort Ernmore with Cedna Accord Officials; human, elven and half-elven, greeting and saluting to Vulmar Sarsalor. They finally reached outside walking out of the complex’s entrance to see an automobile parked in front of the entrance with Bethany Cameron in the driver’s seat. And another ranking officer in the front seat beside her.

“Well there’s our ride, get in children.” Vulmar said with Ethel squeeing slightly with excitement for the trip. With everyone in their seats, Captain Bethany Cameron turned the ignition of her car and begun driving out of the compound, and now they were all in the highway of the Wiverst Countryside. The road leads to the nearest urban area and large city; the City of Barton Ridge, in which Ethel will spend her daytrip with Bethany Cameron and Vulmar Sarsalor.

>>52024990
As Bethany was driving down the road to Barton Ridge Ethel spoke to Weland. “Oh boy big brother, aren’t you excited you get to come around with me, Mister Sarsalor and Miss Cameron before your playdate with Lucia?”

But before Weland could even reply Bethany Cameron answered Ethel’s question to her brother. “Oh I’m sorry Ethel dear but your brother can’t come along with us today. His playdate with Lucia Bryrel Ingraham is already scheduled.”

“Awwww… I was excited to have big brother see how a big Briastrinian city looks with me!”

Weland answered to Ethel. “Oh fret not Ethel. Perhaps another time I may take a tour like this with you. I promise, another time we can spend time together outside the walls of the compound we are residing in… Its just that I have duty calls with Lucia.”

“Really? But why not tell Lucia and her parents to have another playdate another time?”

Bethany answered to Ethel again all while driving and keeping an eye on the road. “Sorry Ethel but it’s already arranged. It couldn’t be arranged at any other day at this time since Lucia; just like you Ethel, is a student who has to study for school and have good grades. And Lucia is going to be busy for the following week, which is why Lucia can have a playdate with Weland this weekend.”

Vulmar interjected. “Your brother said it himself Ethel, we can take him along another time. This time in different city here in Briastrin that’s much fancier than where we’re going. Who knows? We may take a trip to Briastrin’s national capital of Ambury, or maybe even the cosmopolitan city of Akhurland? Which is rich in elven culture and is the very first Briastrinian city where the first hundred elven immigrants have resided in this nation. Similar to like the elven city of Selletheas in Chimax which is rich in Briastrinian human culture, and is where the first human immigrants from Briastrin reside alongside elven-kind in Chimax.”

>to be continued

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>>51999052
Bump

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Thread near death

>>52021396
Neat concept.

Kinda feel like it could be expanded...couldn't tell you how, though.

Also, to bump the thread, I had a short-lived plot bunny about a stoner Tzeetch sorceror in Harry Potter. Here's what I have:

“I made some arrangements with the conductor.”
-----
“Mmmhhm.” He hummed appreciatively as he sucked on his pipe. He exhaled a cloud of sweet, intoxicating smoke. He glanced down. “Now that's the good stuff, innit sir?”
The conductor was lying insensate on the floor, insensate to the rumbling and bouncing of the train. A tiny, smoking blunt was gripped between his teeth, kept precariously aloft over the pools of drool trickling out of the corners of his mouth.
“So, do you mind if I catch a ride on this train?”
The conductor seemed to stir a little, and tried to speak. Beetle leaned down to put his ear closer and listened.
“...pretty rainbows.....”
He chuckled. “I'll take that as a no.”
----
“Getting across the lake was harder.”
----
Beetle reflected on the fact that while pot kept him grounded in the real world, it also made him kinda stupid. Else he'd never gone with this plan.
Of course, if he was sober enough to reject it he'd probably go for some hideously over-complicated plan instead, and Tzeentch was wont to screw those over for a quick laugh. KISS Principle and all that.

He was clinging to the underside of the rowboat. He didn't dare come up for air or warmth-the rowboat was occupied, and there were a bunch more around in this miniature flotilla.
His only source of air was a bunch of long reeds pursed between his lips. Some had broken. Periodically he had to swallow-never spit-drops of lake water. And unless his tongue was sorely mistaken, the bigass octopus was male, and had been masturbating recently.
Warmth? Tough shit. He just had to do without.

The worst bit? Beetle was pretty sure the pot was soaked now. And he'd never found a good substitute for a blunt in the morning.

This is an 'alternative history' take on my campaign; what would have happened had the PCs not been around to solve things. The infant king is cursed, and the common folk suffer horrifically under this magic. The curse is tied to the child's life, and the peasants have finally had enough.

----

Isabella sighed quietly. For a moment her exhalation stirred the air but then it stilled once more, slipping back into that malaise of lazy inaction. She wanted to scream, to rage and cry and lay about herself with her fists- anything would do, so long as she could move again. It seemed as if the walls were closing in about her, pressing tight against her chest and making it hard to think. With some effort, she took a long, steadying breath. The air tasted stale and warm.

By her side, Damian gave a small squeal of discomfort. The noise startled Isabella from her reverie, and slowly she stretched an arm into his cot and began to gently stroke his brow. As her careful ministrations continued, the child's cries began to quiet. Gradually, tiny eyes fluttered closed, and his breathing grew calm and peaceful. Isabella smiled weakly, resting her hand upon her child's pale bald head.

There came a sharp rap at the door. Gathering her scattered thoughts, Isabella cleared her throat.
"Enter," she said, her voice sounding strangely hollow even to her. With a sudden jerk, the door flew open, and a harried looking young gentleman stepped through it. He wore the deep blue of the Royal Guard, but his uniform had clearly been patched half a hundred times, and it bore a dozen rips and tears besides. Anxiously, he snapped to attention, and Isabella absently noted his almost skeletal appearance- his arms too skinny, his face gaunt and white. The poor boy had been starving.
"Your Majesty," the guardsman began nervously, fingering the pommel of his sword. "The mob have nearly broken through. Lord Kilvarrick believes he cannot hold them much longer. I am to, ah, escort you to safety, ma'am."

>>52029998
With a dreadful certainty, everything came together for Isabella. The man's worried demeanour; the way his fingers played about the hilt of his weapon as he spoke; the irregularity of sending a single guardsman to see the Royal family to safety. It all made a horrible sort of sense. Tears stung at the edges of Isabella's vision but she choked them back fiercely. Wiping daintily at her eyes, the queen struggled to speak over the lump in her throat.
"That shan't be necessary soldier," she managed. At that, the man's hand firmed around the hilt of his blade, though his face belied his fear and uncertainty.
"Your Majesty-" he tried, but Isabella spoke over him.
"I shall do it myself," she said, her voice soft but firm. She turned her eyes to his. "Allow me that much at least."

The guardsman stepped back, unsure, and rubbed at his neck with one hand as if embarrassed. Taking his inaction as assent, Isabella stood. Time seemed to grind to an unending halt as she lifted the pillow from the head of her bed. With every fibre of her body screaming out in protest, she brought the cushion down over her child's head. Tears fell unbidden from her half closed eyes as she sobbed in silence, the only sound the merciless pounding of her own heart. Damian thrashed limply underneath the pillow. She could feel his mute struggles, and one of his tiny hands fumbled blindly at her wrist, searching desperately for his mother's comforting touch. Isabella counted out ten heartbeats... twenty, thirty. Slowly, the child's movement ground to a halt.

With a moan of purest despair, Isabella collapsed at the foot of his crib. Her head sagged forwards into heavy hands as she began to howl her misery to the gods above. Her mind fled gibbering from reality, burying itself in the furthest flung reaches of her head; her only thought the memory of Damian's hand reaching out for hers.

When the sword came, it was little more than relief.

>>52030014
Dark. Yikes.

Was the sword purely a mercy kill, or was there an assassination planned in addition.

>>52030046
A bit of both, mostly the latter. The lords of the realm had basically figured that the royal family was a sinking ship and the best way to survive was to try and appease the peasantry by giving them what they wanted.

>>52030904
So what was the plan for afterward?
Were they thinking that far?

Also, what did you think about my plot bunny above.

>>52029998
>>52030014
Good stuff. Well, not for poor Izzie, but them's the shakes.

>>52034158

"And here, you see the only piece depicting Valeria she actually posed for." Harley's voice echoed throughout the empty halls of the massive exhibit, the high walls and domed ceiling carrying his words throughout the entire building. The legion of paintings lining the walls seemed to follow him with their eyes, disapproving of the insolent noise. "Not one for the arts, unfortunately, but I think you'll agree she has quality where she lacks quantity."

As far as Gavin was concerned, he had no choice but to agree. The violet eyes of the Lady in White stared back at him, clear and unrelenting as the day he saw them himself. So piercing were those eyes that the rest of the Huntress' unworldly beauty almost went unmarked. When one managed to look away from those vibrant orbs, they saw an enchanting face, with high, proud cheekbones and a small, regal nose. Lips the color of blood stood in stark contrast to ivory skin; a beautiful visage twisted with a furious scowl.

Both deadly and divine, the Lady was Nature made flesh.

"I can only wonder how..." Gavin took a moment to glance at the signature. "...Mr. Mayson managed to convince her to pose for him. Especially a pose like that." Harley chuckled. "With a gamble, naturally. If the Huntress has one weakness, it's her pride. He goaded her into a game of riddles, with his life as collateral." Upon hearing this, Gavin couldn't help but cry out in surprise. "His life? He's insane!"

Now, Harley laughed, long and hard.

Gavin fairly bristled at this, and just before he could object Harley waved his hand, wiped a tear from his eye and said "Oh, my boy. Every time, they say the same thing. No, lad, you're right. Devon (well, that's his first name, mind you), Devon was a man who knew nothing of fear. 'My art', he said, 'will live on in my stead, so the more I make, the more I can live.' If you think that's impressive look here right over here. He managed to get the Deceiver to sit for a portrait."

>>52025945
Bethany Cameron then said. "Now now there Mister Sarsalor, we can spare the history lesson to Ethel for next week. Right now its the weekend for us to wind back and relax and have some good time."

Captain Bethany Cameron is partly right; it is the weekend for most Briastrinian citizens. The kids would play outside in the playgrounds and play areas. While the grownups and older people would spend their weekends partying hard in certain venues meant for their age, yet there are people who'd still have jobs and occupations that require them to work even in weekends. And both Bethany Cameron and Vulmar Sarsalor are officials and ranking officers for the Cedna Accord who’re doing their jobs right now of tending and caring for Weland and Ethel Faulkner.

The drive continued to Barton Ridge continued on, Ethel was on her knees on the back seat as she constantly took in the view of the Briastrinian countryside. Passing through some farmsteads, seeing other cars driving along the road, houses beside the road and even passing a few urban villages. Even Weland had to appreciate the view sometimes and just like his sister, he was glancing every now and then on what he saw, probably because he knows this land is unlike Eustran which was ruled by his mother. That and also all of these modernized and industrious sights were still essentially new to him.

The drive took about an hour long journey until everyone can see the sight of tall city buildings; finally they’ve reached Barton Ridge. Ethel and Weland have noticed and can see that there are even more cars driving in the road, both entering and exiting the city. Bethany drove into the city limits as she drove around a bit more to find a spot where she can park her automobile, and she did as she parked in front of an office building just beside the side walk behind another parked car.

>>52038260
"Alright we are here." Bethany Cameron announced as a 'Yaaaayyy~' was heard from Ethel.

Ethel got out as she was able to open the door of the car herself. There she took in the sight, the view and even the smells. The city was indeed noisy with the sounds of many people talking, cars driving and honking their horns and more sounds of cars and people talking or yelling. This was also a new sight for Weland too as he was amazed by the looks of the buildings and other tall skyscrapers he saw. Bethany Cameron also got out of her driver’s seat and as soon as she got out the other ranking officer who sat beside her now moved to the now vacant driver’s seat.

Weland did not notice that there was a person sitting beside Captain Cameron until now as he saw the official that sat beside Bethany was a male half-elf. Weland was still seated and looked beside him to talk to Vulmar Sarsalor. “I am quite amazed how the buildings made her in Briastrin are much taller than any structure I have seen in my old homeland, if I’m correct, I read in a book in the libraries back at Fort Ernmore that these buildings and some of these ‘skyscrapers’ are made out of metal?”

Vulmar answered. “Yes, but actually they are also made out of cement. A mixture of a closely controlled chemical combination of calcium, silicon, aluminum, iron and other ingredients. As for the metal; which is steel, they’re used to help maintain the structural integrity of the building so that it wouldn’t fall due to its size. Now excuse me please.” Vulmar moved his way through Weland out of the passenger seat and was now out of the car and stretched his arms and legs after staying seated for an hour. Even Bethany and Ethel begun stretching too.

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>This is a story idea I've had rolling around since I heard about the Ynnari so I figured I'd throw up a napkin drawing of what I have so far and see what people think.

The Man I Killed

"My funeral pyre,
Like a torch to paradise,
Shall light our way home."

The final words of Br'uford, Fire Dragon of the Burning Fang and one of my dearest friends. How many nights I sat awake and wondered at what he meant. Dying on that battlefield, with Orkish munitions riddling his body to a blood pulp, there was no chance of saving him. He had discarded his spirit stone for his faith in Ynnead, and as I watched the spark of life fade from his eyes, there was nothing to bring back, save the last words on his lips. As a Howling Banshee I was well acquainted with the martial aspects of our culture, but this was something different. My Aspect was that of dirge and sorrow, a roiling scream of pain turned into a war cry against our enemies, but one that consumed us at some level even in times of peace. Br'uford held no sorrow or loss, there was no regret in his voice. Only the calm certainty that he would live on, somehow, in this god he swore his service to.

It was not long after this I began to seek out more of these self-professed Ynnari. If Br'uford could face death so peacefully, how could I face life with so much pain? I yearned for the freedom of our kind, but the bitterness of our undoing welled in my stomach like a poison. Hours I spent brooding in my chambers, or endlessly dueling my fellow Banshees in training, focusing this anger into a weapon as sharp as my swords, but not without the doubts that still lingered at the edge of my soul. Was this truly the only way? Finding those of a like mind was not difficult, many Howling Banshees willingly gave themselves to the cause of the Ynnari upon hearing their evangel. Jain Zar's willingness to join was all some needed, while the promise of ease to a restless and pained spirit brought others. It was the latter that brought me.

>>52039078
The bond I shared with my sisters flourished under this new guidance. Faith in Ynnead was not merely something to profess, it was something experienced, mind, body, and soul. The feeling of casting away my spirit stone for the first time filled my heart with dread, but the rush the moment of death brought now was unparalleled. With every Ork I slew or mon-keigh gutted by my blades, I felt the strength of their spirit innervate me from within. My mind focused, my nerves tingled with energy, it was as if they were feeding my spirit. This was not like the dreaded leeches of Commorragh, but something greater. There was a glimpse of experience, the weight of years of life, and then silence, the culmination bolstering me. My mind was clear and sharp, my body as nimble and deadly as a fencer's sword tip. And best of all, when I removed my war mask, the pain was gone.

I had become one of them. Under the will of Ynnead I could fulfill my promise to keep my Craftworld safe, protect my loved ones, and follow the Path of the Warrior, but without the self-deprivation it required. I was free now, free to live and do as I pleased without fear of She Who Thirst's gaze being drawn. Free to live without limitations over my emotions and my life. I indulged this frequently, partaking in art and theater, entering the dreams of my lover, and talking at length with the Seers of the ghost halls.Those who scorned my lack of adherence to the Path I dismissed, my duties were not neglected.

This hope, this strength of unity not only with my kin but with my own life and its place in the cosmos, this I carried with me into battle. My anger and sorrow were freely vented, though no longer for that of a dying race. It was aimed at those who might turn us from this brilliant path, and derived from their criminal ignorance. I sought to lay them low, to cut their lives from them, that they might serve Ynnead in death if not in life.

>>52039286
This hatred for the unbelievers and sorrow for those beyond salvation is what seared in my heart the day the Commorrites attacked. It was on an Exodite world, a not uncommon target for the more cannibalistic of their Archons. I felt no joy in the death of other Eldar, even those as twisted as the Druchii, but on the field of battle that day I felt no remorse either. Their kind flew like locusts from the clouds, their webway portal spewing their grav-craft over the planet. Craftworld armaments fired in response, their report rolling through the trees. I stood with my sisters, blades drawn, bracing myself for their shock troops. The wait was not long, as a Raider swung low and a horde of gladiatrixes fell upon us. The sound of steel clashing and the song of blades in the air whirled around me. I ducked and dodged and parried a seemingly endless stream of blows from the Wyches, their form as practiced as my own, but their weapons far cruder and more vile. It was an even match however, and for every blow my armor blocked, their reflexes saved them from my response.

Gradually the Wyches fell back. My sisters managed to carve the life from a few of their number and I could feel their rejuvenated spirits glistening behind their war masks. It was more than the momentary fragment left by a lesser creature, the souls of our kind were drawn to us. Desperate to experience this myself, I rushed forward ahead of my companions after the cowardly Druchii. I did not make it far however before I suffered for my brashness. I was drawn into a snare, as from above the trees came a flashing of blades and the shriek of hoverboards. No sooner did I look up than a pair of Hellion glaives came for my face, sharp and with the full swing of their decent. Instinct took over and I ducked, tumbling forward, my swords drawn and bared. Some of the Hellions jinked through the trees, dropping poison on my sisters who were dashing to catch up, while others remained to toy with me.

>>52039500
Although I was not old by Eldar standards I knew well enough the likes of many Commorrites. Hellions were not refined warriors like Incubi, they were not even the gaudy showgirls of the arenas. These were gutter runners, exiles, and gang members. I was a sister of the Shrieking Blade and would not be trifled with by such filth. With a flash of psychic energy my scream pierced the air, my mask amplifying it until it drowned out the thunder of distant guns. The Hellions circling me dropped from their boards, one flying into a tree, another darting off into the forest as quickly as he could fly. Only one remained, his mind too drug-addled to fear the blistering warcry. His ears bled as he charged me on his hoverboard, the glaive in his hands whirling from side to side. Such an amateurish trick, I thought as I dodged aside. I swung my powersword, severing the harness he used to keep himself tethered to his board. With uncertain footing he turned his craft around and, sluggishly, made another pass.

This time I met him head on, the splinter pods he fired bouncing harmlessly off my bone armor. His glaive swung low, too low, and without his tether the board slipped from him. Off balance, I parried his blade and brought him down to earth, crushing his ribs beneath my knee. He was disarmed now, helpless, but I yearned for the kill. I needed to experience the death of one of my own kind, to feel his spirit touch my own. Raising my blade, I drove the power weapon deep into his chest. His eyes flashed with anguish and I could feel the life draining from him. Twisting the blade, I leaned down, eager to feel his death. I wanted every moment, any dying word, any token of finality he might have to give. I wanted to be witness to his final legacy.

>>52039636
Then it happened. The Commorrite's last breath rasped from his torn lungs. Light filled my spirit and a melody of emotions and experiences flooded my mind. This was a death like no other, the richness of a life I'd never seen. Commorrites lived such strange and dark existences, the sensation was as overwhelming as it was magnificent. Every fear and joy he had known, every love, every grudge was held in spiritual fidelity. Elated and intoxicated, I rose from his corpse and shouldered my blade, looking for the next victim to ravage like the murderer I was. My sisters were gone, their screams echoing through the trees as they hunted the Wyches on foot. Hellions, stunned by my psychic blast, littered the ground around me. I felt my blade in my hand as I stood over one, preparing to deliver the coup de grace to her neck, when something stopped me.

"Please...not my Llaine..."

There was a voice...not in my head, but in my spirit. One that was not mine and yet tied to my own, as if I being guided by an invisible force. Unwanted emotions roiled inside of me. There was a darkness to them, a feeling of deep shame and guilt, but also the unmistakable pang of love. A powerful affection swept over me as I stood over the Hellion, her eyes glaring daggers as she held her hands to her bleeding ears. Lowering my sword, I placed it against her neck. The feeling cascaded through my mind and surged in my blood. I wanted to protect this woman, and guilt wracked me for even daring to feel such a thing. Worst of all, neither of these emotions were my own. My stomach grew ill and I staggered away from the disabled Hellion, my sword trembling in my grasp.

"Thank you..."

I could not stop it. I could not halt the thoughts and emotions any longer. The moment I experienced before had turned into a constant, unending stream of consciousness. I was no longer alone, my spirit altered by the life I took. Terrified of what I was becoming, I ran, desperate to find my sisters.

>>52038842
Weland decided to step out of the car as well, mostly to tag along with his sister, whom he cares about dearly, for the trip around this city but then- "He kid, where do you think you're going?" The half-elf officer who's now occupying the driver's seat said to Weland. "You forget? You got a scheduled appointment with Senator Ingraham's daughter."

Weland then remembered he almost forgot he has a playdate with Lucia Bryrel Ingraham. “Sorry you can’t come again brother. But really next time I hope and just maybe you can come with us in a trip like this and watch those moving picture shows with us.” Ethel said solemnly.

“Ofcourse your brother can come with us another time. Right now he has an appointment with Lucia Ingraham, now come one Ethel. The movie that we’ll be seeing is going to start soon.” Bethany Cameron said as she looked to Weland. “As for you Weland, Sergeant Matters here will drive you Senator Ingraham’s Estate in Yagoton.” Bethany Cameron said Weland looked to the half-elf officer who was in the driver’s seat as the half-elf waved his hand off.

After Ethel and Weland said their goodbyes, Weland was in for another drive that’ll last for about a half hour. The estate of Senator Bradley Ingraham is located on a smaller neighboring town that is about twenty kilometers away from the current city Weland’s in. And so the Cednan Official drove out of the city limits with the sights of tall buildings, many people and cars getting less and less as they were out of the city and back on the ridge road that was on a chain of small hills. (Which gave the city of Barton Ridge its name with it being near a series of small hills connecting to each other.)

Weland was now more familiar with the path taken since he did remember being driven along the road he’s in when going to Lucia’s place of residence before. Finally Weland was in the familiar sight of the Town of Yagoton, and saw he was nearing the Ingraham Estate.

>>52044408
While the town of Yagoton was much, much smaller than the city Weland was in earlier. It still boasted the same modern urban architecture of concreted buildings but he was more familiar with the sights and looks of this town since he was here before. And just like the larger city Weland was in earlier, it still boasted with its population of people, its shops, venues, and the cars they drive around in.
The Cedna Accord Official who was driving Weland to his destination drove to the front of the considerably small mansion in which Lucia Bryrel Ingraham lived in. The car was parked as the Cedna Official told to Weland as armed guards who guarded the mansion approached the vehicle. “Alright here you are Mister Weland Faulkner. You can get off now. You’ll be picked up later at about four or five o’clock in the afternoon. Have fun with the Senator’s daughter, I’ll be going back to Barton Ridge for Captain Cameron, Wizard Sarsalor and your sister.”

Weland finally got of the car which quickly drove off. The armed guards recognized Weland and gestured him to come inside and follow them. The guards walked Weland to front door and let him in as they simply went back out the gate and front of the estate which they were guarding. Weland turned the knob of the front door, went in and closed the door behind him and the sound of a house radio playing music filled his ears. A house maid greeted Weland and directed him to where Lucia is. “Ah there you are Mister Weland Faulkner. Lucia, the sweet girl has been expecting you. Please follow me.”

Weland followed the maid as he passed by some of the very familiar rooms and halls of this mansion, which seemed smaller in the outside but slightly larger in the inside. After following the maid he was at what he remembered is the door to Lucia’s playroom. The maid knocked at the door. “Miss Lucia dear, your friend Weland is here to see you.”

Bump (sadly without a pic, connection issues - but let's not let the thread die)

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>>52044660
Nothing says romance like SUDDEN TROMBONE

Also, bump.

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The shepherd boy loved to play near the statue at the summit of the mountain. Every day, after the morning chores, he would go up to the peak with his stick and his silly wooden plank in tow. For hours he would slice the air with his majestic longsword, raise his shield against the flames of mighty dragons, and bring down droves of monsters with loud whoops and hollers. It was not a hard climb, nor was the mountain very tall, but it was still not the safest place for a boy to play. His mother knew that outright banning him would just entice him to go, so as she waved him off every day she would warn him, "Come back before the sun goes out, or the skeleton knight will eat you!" And every day, sure as the spring mists, the boy would return well before sundown.

>>52048901

But one abnormally warm afternoon, the wind picked up the hairs on the nape of his neck and he paid it no mind. The temperature dropped, and dropped, dropped lower than normal for this season. His hands grew clammy clutching his stick and wooden shield. The wind howls grew higher and higher, almost louder than his cries, but the boy did not notice. He continued to whoop and holler and cut down vampires and harpies and gorgons. Clouds barrelled down into the valley, rolling and roiling faster and faster and up upon the peak. Snow and sleet and harsh stinging rain hit the boy with unbridled anger and he cried out in sudden shock.

>>52048950

He looked around him, he could not see anything, even his hands were lost in the white darkness. The boy was not the smartest boy, but even he knew if he tried to walk home he would fall off a cliff and die. Exposed, he crawled over to the nearest nook he could hide in; The lap of the skeleton knight's statue. Curled up in the smallest ball he had ever curled himself into, shield held up against the storm's wind in vain, he held the clasp of his cloak in his tiny fist, thought of his mother, and hoped he would not die.

>>52048965

He awoke in a small stone chamber barely bigger than himself. So small he could not stand there if he wanted to. It was warm, and he could see. The light came from a glowing stone a few handbreaths above his head. At first he thought it was amber, just like he had seen at the market a few years ago, because it glowed in the same burnt orange colour, but he realised after a moment that it was a heart, slightly bigger than a sheep's. It beat twice, and with every pump the room filled with warmth and it brightened.

>>52048996

Curious, the boy squeezed his arm away from his side and reached up to it. Do not touch my heart. A dry unemotional voice said from inside his head. Do not. After a moment, he asked in the tiniest of whispers, "Why?". The voice inside answered, For you would surely turn to stone. The boy reached again towards the light, gingerly and slowly, testing for the strange voice. It never came. Worried and saddened, he decided to not touch the amber heart and fell into a deep sleep.

>>52049022
The next day, shaking melting snow from his body as he got up from the statue's lap, the boy ran home to what he expected would be a worried but relieved mother. He could not wait to tell her about the weird amber heart and the voice. As he crested the hill nearest his homestead, he noticed the sheep were still locked up in the house, and his mother was outside waiting for him, long wooden spoon in hand. She flew into a fit of rage, yelling about his stupidity, about what his father would say if he were here, and about how worried she was. Her hands moved like birds scared out of a tree, only deviating their paths if it meant they could smack him on top of the head. The wooden spoon stung on his skin like bees. He stared at his mother's feet the entire time, but did not cry until she left.

>>52049086
Seasons passed and the boy stopped playing atop the peak as often as he used to. He was afraid of angering his mother again, but that was not the only reason why. His mother could no longer work due to her growing belly, a parting gift from his seldom present father's last visit, and it had fallen to him to take care of the flock. His mother, wobbling around as she worked the kitchen (she still adamantly refused to let him cook), reminded him what to do when she went into labour. How to heat the water, and prepare the sheets, and snip and knot the cord. He nodded along. He had helped birth so many lambs at this point that he barely listened to her mumbles.

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>>52048901
>>52048950
>>52048965
>>52048996
>>52049022
>>52049086
>>52049122

I'll be back later to finish this. Criticism is welcome and highly appreciated.

>>52049300
>>52048901
>>52048950
>>52048965
>>52048996
>>52049022
>>52049086
>>52049122
It's good, anon - I'd certainly like to read more. Although if you keep only posting one paragraph per post we're going to hit the bump limit pretty soon.

>>52048606
>Nothing says romance like SUDDEN TROMBONE

I don't get what you mean anon. If you think the character Weland is in love with Lucia, you're wrong. As stated, he's simply complying and playing along. Though I'll give a spoiler:

Lucia would actually like Weland though.

Anyway I'd like to hear any criticism and feedback for my my currently on going story, and the previous that it's connected to.

>https://1d4chan.org/images/4/4e/Lessons.png

>>52044660
The door opened and out came Lucia Bryrel Ingraham, age nine and soon to turn ten, and daughter of Briastrin senator Bradley Ingraham and elven wizardess Lura Bryrel.

"Weland you came! And just about time. I just finished a setup for our playtime, come in! And thanks for bringing him in Darrel.” Lucia said to the maid who brought Weland to her playroom.

>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tD1G977kF8A

>https://www.youtube.com/watch?
v=RFaVrVyc0A0

>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8OQxkJsImE

Weland went in with Lucia holding his hand and pulling him in. He saw there was also radio in her playroom which was tuned in on the same station as the radio he saw and heard outside, but smaller and was set on a table as it was playing pleasant music. Her playroom was large and in it were numerous shelves containing various toys, car models, dolls, action figures that are usually marketed for boys and a few toy rocking horses as well. And there was even a large play castle which occupied a quarter of the room, but there were also bookshelves in the room which contained various books ranging from the usual children’s books and some novels that Lucia like to read.

“You ready to continue our adventures my prince? Saving me from the evil Dark Knight who kidnapped me to his castle?” Lucia asked with excitement.

Weland let out a soft smile. “Of course my dear princess! Remember I told you that I was trained to be a brave paladin back in my old homeland? No scallywag shall hold my dear princess captive any longer. Let us continue the adventure, but where is my sword?” He playfully asked to which Lucia replied.

“Right here brave knight.” She tossed the toy wood sword to Weland which he caught.

“Ok then, let the battle between me the Hero and the Dark Knight commence!” Weland playfully declared as they both continued their roleplay.

I don't see what this has to do with traditional games.

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>>52056410
Have you ever DM'd a game? A good grasp of storytelling and narrative structure is essential for things like D&D. Let alone if you're making an entirely new setting. For that matter, if you're a player writing a backstory for your character it's also good to be able to string a sentence together. And obviously if you're actually creating a new board/roleplaying game you need to be able to write the fluff for it as well as come up with the rules.

Also, since when did /tg/ ever stick to the topic?

>>52053925
Gonna be totally honest, I was just writing down the first thing that popped into my head when I saw the picture.

>>52053492
I'm assuming you're looking for narrative feedback since you put this in a storythread, Working on that assumption, I'd say it's an interesting glimpse into a story I'd like to read. One bit of criticism, though - from the bits in the lower left-hand corner, that's some kind of being, right? Well, until I saw that (maybe) previous version, I thought that was a head on a pedestal. You might want to give the figure in the door slightly broader...shoulders? I love the silhouette, but you may want to make it clearer that's a person...thing? Regardless, good work; make it better.

>>52057349
Stay on Topic...
"Stay on topic." The Moderator fingered a gavel irritably.
The gathered crowd of courtiers only seemed to get louder and less orderly. What kind of Board was this?

"Stay on topic!" He banged the gavel five times rapid, to seemingly no effect besides an impromptu percussion jam in the far corner.

"Sir Moderator, if I may enlighten you on something?" A wizened and fat specimen of a Tripfag waddled out of the crowd and squinted bemusedly at the Chairman. He squinted bemusedly at everything, so it didn't mean anything special.
What did mean something was the sudden hush. Tripfags were usually ostracized for abandoning the ancient tradition of hiding one's identity on the Forum of Four Chans, but this one was, evidently, a rare and revered exception.

The Moderator snorted irritably and rested crossed arms on the podium. "You may."

"Sir, while we all appreciate your...assistance in our affairs, it is not required nor particularly desired. TeeGee did not become the greatest Board that ever was or ever will be by staying on topic."

The Moderator stared at him, unbelieving and even more irritated than before. "I beg your pardon?"

"Our strength is not unity of purpose but division of same, see. We bring more ideas into the information space by maintaining such. If we artificially constrained ourselves to merely the topic of the day, we would never each such diversity, nor the synthesis that can come from such. "

"And the pressing matter at hand? Will you just waggle your tongues about every which way, and make no decision?"

>>52067093
"Please, Sir. Elimination of the impractical or the counterproductive, or the details of implementation, is for the other Boards. Ours is unfettered creation, without which all the other Boards would be not but gaggles of tired men going through the motions. Now, if you'll kindly allow us to go about our business, Sir Moderator, and we'll see about getting around to the topic of the wheat harvest in our good time."

As the Tripfag waddled back into a crowd that now churned with new vigor, the Moderater buried his head in his palms. "Why did I take this commission?"

>>52070304
Might I ask if that's a human guy who most likely fucked that dragonborn lady?

That actually looks fucking lovely and cute.

>>52054690
Lucia and Weland’s roleplay continued for about an hour and a half. This was centered on Weland being the brave Prince-Knight who’d save the “Princess” Lucia from a stereotypical evil black knight. Weland fought a stuffed toy whom was the evil knight who has Lucia “captive” and defeated it. And saved Lucia and brought her back to her “kingdom” and as soon she was brought back to her “king” she was to be married to Weland. Throughout this entire roleplay Weland was very much sincere and genuine throughout the duration of the roleplay.

And now was the “wedding ceremony” which was conducted by a stuff toy as a priest that was voiced by Lucia.

“Do you take Weland as your rightfully wedded husband?” Lucia said in a mocking voice for the pretend priest-character.

“I do!” Lucia said out loud.

“And do you, Weland. Take Princess Lucia as your wife?” Lucia said in a pretend voice again for the fictional character.

“Yes I do.” Weland said simply but with a level sincerity and character.

“You may kiss each other.” Lucia said again her mock-pretend voice for the character, then Lucia turned to Weland. “Well time to kiss my prince, we’re married now.” She said with joy.

“Ok then my princes-” Weland being taller, was just leaning down to Lucia’s level till she just grabbed his face with both of her hands, cupping his cheeks. And firmly planted her lips on his, this surprised Weland as her kiss quite passionate and could feel her tongue sliding into his mouth. To which he quickly withdrew his lips from her. Weland looked shocked to Lucia as he asked. “Whoa, Whoa Lucia, please stop. Just stop for a second.

Lucia herself was also shocked and looked sad for a second till Weland simply asked. “I’m not mad, it’s just that was all of sudden to be honest.”

“…I’m sorry Weland I didn’t mean to make you feel… Wrong, it’s just I like you, you know? I just thought, well…”

>>52071236
“-I’m sorry Weland if I shocked you like that, okay? It’s just that mom and dad said You and I will be married someday, together. And that we’d have a big and nice wedding with many people and even my friends showing. I just thought I did a bit of… Practice when we’re going to have an REAL or ‘official?’ kiss.” Lucia said with some shame but with sincerity towards Weland.

Weland immediately felt guilty and even bad that a child who was much younger than him was simply doing what she knew best and or was honestly expressing some curiosities. Or also because he might have hurt her feelings quite a bit by being offended by her playful kiss. “It- It’s okay Lucia, don’t be sad. I know you were just being yourself and playful. That was not a bad kiss if you ask me, and if you and I are going to be married, I’m fine with it. You’re a sweet and kind, and I’ve seen your generosity when I saw you comforting a hurt child when we were outside together at one time. Also when you gave alms and a blanket to a beggar, also I admire you’re playfulness.”

“Really Weland?” Lucia asked, complete with puppy eyes look.

“Yes, I do like you and admire you.” Weland then added by kissing her on the forehead. Weland originally thought Lucia to be but a spoiled rich child he’d be paired with for political reasons and with him being a pawn and all. While somewhat true, he is slowly growing accustomed to her. He still believed he is doing all this for the well being of his sister, but none the less he is slowly liking Lucia more and more. And while Weland may still have confused feelings towards Lucia, Lucia herself does genuinely like and even love Weland, probably because he is the only one who gets to spend such play times with him.

“Awwwww! Thanks Weland!” Lucia said with relief and gladness as she hugged him tightly, and Weland embraced her back.

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>>52071330
There was a sudden knock on the door while Weland and Lucia were savoring their embrace. And came in an elven woman.

"Hi there step sister."

"Oh! Hello Kenia, what are you doing here? I thought you have work in your shop from eight in the morning till five?" Lucia said in surprise to the elven woman who entered her playroom.

The elven woman who just entered Lucia's playroom is Kenia Bryrel, daughter and one of Lura Bryrel's original biological children and is essentially the step daughter of Lucia's human father. A longtime ago Lura Bryrel was already married to an elven man and already has two elven children; Kenia and Gorwin, both of whom are also Lucia's step siblings. But Lura Bryrel's original husband died a long time ago before the humans of Briastrin and the elves of Chimax united together as the Cedna Accord.

And when the people of Briastrin and Chimax united it was when Lura Bryrel met Bradley Ingraham, fell in love, and despite already having two children Lura conceived and gave birth to Lucia.

Lucia's full blooded elven step siblings do care and love their half-elf step sibling, just as family should. Kenia Bryrel actually works as a merchant selling general merchandise, both when she still lived in Chimax and up to now when she moved in to Briastrin along with her mother when married to the human politician Bradley Ingraham. While Gorwin works as an alchemist who brews small potions and remedies for small sicknesses and just like his sister he used to live in the elven homeland of Chimax but moved with his mother and sister to Briastrin.

"Well Lucia dear sister, I closed early. Didn't I told you already? I close my store early in the weekends... And I see you have Weland with you again." She said smoothly and somewhat sultrily, especially to Weland.

>>52071101
I think the point of the thread is that you tell us what the pic shows. Go on, write a story about it

>>52070304
Looks like some deliciously magic realm to me :)

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The three humans were brought to the Moth High Priest's chamber. The humans were swiftly brought to their knees by their Beetle captors. The insectoid brutes stood at attention and saluted their priest, improvised weapons at their sides.

"Are these the ones who dared intrude upon our lands...?" The Moth faintly questions.
From his side emerged a Cockroach, withered in form and bound in many strips of cloth. The insect placed its stick-like hands upon the faces of the humans, trying to divine something. Antennae twitch in reaction to something in the air. He replies, "They are indeed, your holiness."
The Moth breathes in deeply. He was not looking forward to this. Even since before the insectoid empire had taken rise, the human population had always been a thorn on their side. As the former masters of the Earth, they were very irritatingly persistent in their need to sabotage the insectoid empire that they unwittingly spawned. Every time, the men would come to raid the insectoid borders, raze the land for food and kill any that stood in the way. Sometimes it was with stealth and guile, but often it involved brute force and firearms that the insectoids could never use. The Beetles were lucky that these three did not have such weapons at their disposal. "This is the third time this week that these humans have raided our lands. The signs are distressing."
"What do you see, your holiness?"
The Moth turned to answer his vassal. "These escalating raids are a sign that something dire will happen soon." His dainty steps then move the High Priest towards the humans. "Now tell me, man-spawn, who sent you?"

The humans glanced at each other. None of them seemed willing to talk. Their leader, an unmasked woman with muddy brown hair, was gripped by one of the Beetles' clawed grip. "You think of us all as pacifists," the Moth warns. "Know that I am willing to do what must be done to protect my kind, even if it means spilling the blood of another. But it need not be so."

>>52072671
Kenia and Gorwin already met Weland during previous playdates between him and Lucia. Weland tensed at seeing Kenia Bryrel, especially when she is looking at him suggestively because he had "undesirable" experiences with Kenia. When Weland was left alone with Kenia at one time during the first time they got acquainted, Kenia actually took a liking to Weland. And by that she was forceful towards Weland. Kenia took a fancy on him being young and also having quite the good charming boyish looks.

Kenia found Weland desirable, so much so that when left alone with him, she expressed her liking to him by forcefully kissing and making out with him. Weland hated it and was disgusted by such a deviant behavior, he could’ve told someone; he could’ve reported Kenia to the authorities that she sexually harassed and sexually assaulted him, to the Cedna Accord Officials who look after him and his sister. Unfortunately he did not for he knew or was aware that Kenia is the child of an elven wizard and a politician in Briastrin’s government and senate. So he simply took it in, let Kenia have her way with him. He feared and thought no one would ever believe him or take him seriously since he is the child of a monarch who’s long gone by now and taken in as a pawn and over glorified foster child.

And Gorwin; Lucia’s full blooded elven step brother, was no better either. Because when Weland was in the Ingraham Mansion and left by himself another time when Lucia had to leave for some errands, Gorwin was also there to join in the fun. He was once again ravished by Kenia, but technically he was not violated since Weland willingly let Kenia have her way with him, and during that second time he was left with her, Kenia took his virginity. And Gorwin, using his alchemical knowledge of potions, drugged Weland with relaxants to make him more complacent. To which Gorwin also did lewd actions motives to Weland aswell. Again, Weland simply let them have their way with them.

>>52084476
The Moth extends his own hand, covered in soft down, to cradle the human's face. "I know of the crisis humanity faces as a dying species. Without the ability to grow your own supplies, your ilk may die off sooner than we hope."
"What do you care, moth?" A masked human snarls.
The Moth chuckles. "Perhaps, in any other case, you might have a point. We have been in conflict for years now, but we have never raised our hands in aggression, only in retaliation." The Moth steps back. "Know that even among my kin, I am considered soft for letting you live as long as you have. I believe in mercy."
"And this is mercy?" The Roach immediately slaps the speaker.
"Insolence!" He shrieks. "You will not speak to his holiness the High Priest unless spoken to!"

The Moth looks down again. "Perhaps this is so to you. However, our ancestors would have said the same thing as you have, and you would merely mock their pleas. But I am not you, I am not human. I learned that there is a way that does not require bloodshed to ensure our survival, but you must accept this too."
"Accept the rule of bugs?" The other masked human shouts. "Are you insane?"
The Moth chuckles again to the concern of all present. "Insanity. Insanity was what caused this situation. Insanity allowed for radioactive waste and science to grant us your life." He then presents the landscape before them - Buildings toppled over and reduced to rubble, vegetation slowly reclaiming what was once concrete and asphalt. The cars that once suffocated the streets now stood dormant, never to awaken again. "Insanity is what led to the great fire war that ended your reign." His wings twitched. "I did not cause this. My kin did not cause this. So I must now ask why. Why do you do this?"

Again the humans remained silent. The Moth shakes his head. "What a shame." A Beetle grabs one of the masked men to the floor as the High Priest's wings slowly unfurled. The Roach begins reciting a hymn for the poor soul.

>>52085075
Kenia faced Lucia. "Lucia I'm sorry to interrupt your playtime with Weland, but it looks like you have homework to do."

Lucia was surprised. "Homework!?? But-but why??? I thought I already did my homework yesterday!"

"Well I decided to look at your school bag and it turns out you so happen to miss one more... You should be lucky I found it Lucia, if mother or father found out you missed one they might have been furious. You wouldn't want them livid when they find out do they?"

"But Kenia I swear I did-"

"Lucia, would your big, older and wise sister ever lie to you?"

"...No."

"Then believe me, you've got one problem solving homework left, I placed it on your desk at your room. Now get to answering it, I'll keep Weland entertained again."

Lucia was hesitant and silent first, then she spoke. "Well you have always helped in me school stuff and some adult stuff that mom and dad work with... Okay, I guess I missed one." Lucia looked to Weland sad. "Sorry Weland, looks like I have to stop the pretend play from here. Don't worry though, I might be done early. And besides my older sister can play with you, she says she's good at playing with you and that you're happy with her too. Well see ya later!"

Lucia then jogged out of the playroom passed Kenia.

"Ugh, dammit! Not again, not so soon." Weland thought to himself, realizing he is once again alone with Kenia. And he knows she has intentions to for him.

Kenia delightfully grinned as she closed and locked the door of Lucia’s playroom, went to the radio and turned it off and walked to Weland. “My little sister has really liked you princey-boy. Mother and Father pairing you with her, arranging a wedding for you two when both of you are older. You’re lucky to be paired with someone like Lucia, coming from a richer family with a degree of power.” She got even closer to Weland till she grabbed him and locked him in an embrace, tilting Weland's head up making him look at her.

Loving the stories guys, keep up the good work!

>>52085541
"I had hoped that perhaps you among your kin would see reason so easily. Know that I order this with a heavy heart." He approaches the victim, whose head is lifted to gaze upon the majestic undulating patterns upon his wing. "At least...he will die knowing at least a small measure of majesty."
The signpost swings down with brute force. The human's head rolls on the floor, earning looks of intimidation on the humans' faces. Their leader, despite trying to resist showing any feeling, did care for him after all. The Roach offers his praises to the makers and the Moth for their wisdom in such an act.
"Now, I would wish that this would be enough to convince you. I do not wish for a war between our species, but I do know what must be done to set an example."

"Please," their leader finally speaks. "Please spare my brother. I'm the one you want. If you must kill someone, kill me."
This catches the Moth's attention. "But I did not ask who to kill," he replied. "I merely asked what it is you want."
The remaining masked human shook his head. She bowed her head. "You are correct. Our society has been encountering difficulties in surviving. We have been running low on food, clean water, clothes."
Had the Moth a human face, he might have worn a smile. In place of that, his feathery antennae twitch as his wings fold up. "I had expected as much. I was hoping that we could reach an accord much sooner, but... We must look forward. I do not wish for this war to continue for both our sakes."
"And how do you plan on doing that?" She asks.
"Perhaps one day, I or perhaps my progeny will find a way to convince your leaders, but I must begin smaller. I would wish to begin by forging a smaller allegiance."
The masked one mocks him, "And you think that they'll let us get away with that? We'd be charged with sedition! I won't betray my people just to live!" He is also slapped by the Priest for his insolence.
"Do you care nothing for your life?" The Roach shouted.

>>52090016
"Our High Priest is asking for a means to end this petty war without costing you the lives of more of your kin! Have you no concern for your own?"
The Moth merely asks, "Does he intend to speak for you?"
The human leader bows her head again. "No. He does not."
"What are you doing?"
"I do not want this war either. It's been costly for us. We are approaching the limit of our supplies. I doubt we can hold out for much longer."
The Moth sighs. "As I feared. Humanity has always taken, even since the beginning, but giving has always been difficult."
"Why would we dare give to -"
"Quiet. Please." She silences her subordinate before the Roach could harm him again. "We have a chance to end this war for good."
"By bowing to them?"
"We don't know that's what they want!"
"But that's what we're doing!" The human's voice was panicked, aggressive. "This is just the beginning. They could enslave us if you go through with this!"

The Moth's coughing interrupts both sides of the argument. "He does seem awfully insubordinate."
Before the masked human could speak up, their leader comments, "This is...not an easy decision to make. We have no idea where this will lead in the future."
"A reasonable fear," remarks the Moth, "but not one you should hold onto. Among my kind, I am considered...soft-shelled for my belief in living with the manspawn. I do not believe extermination is a plan worth the effort."
The masked one speaks up. "I don't buy it." Everyone perked their heads. "This is all just a setup. Sure, they say this now, but what happens down the line? He even said it himself; there are more like him and they'd all enjoy wiping us out!"

The Moth sighs. "If that is your decision, then so be it. However, know that this also means that I cannot let you leave here, knowing that you are a threat to my kind. Forgive me, but this is for their sake." The Beetle nearest him forces him to the ground while the other grabs his club. Again, the Roach began his hymns.

>>52091079
All the while, the masked man shouts and pleads that she not give in. He demands that humanity be allowed to die free rather than live as slaves to another species. All the while, his sister, his leader, remains silent with her head turned away.

"I...apologize for doing this," the Moth says. "I am sure that as a spawnmate, you would have liked for him to have bred as well." She remains silent. "I understand if this taints your view upon our accord. At the very least, as a gesture of goodwill, I may allow you to leave as you were."
"Be this your will, your holiness?" The Roach asks, surprised at the declaration. He nods.

It took a while before the last human spoke up, but she eventually promised to not run away. She had sacrificed her team and family for a chance to possibly end this war, and for that the Moth was happy. At last, there was an opportunity for a change in the relationship between insectoids and men.

>>52085790
"Grrrrrr... What the fuck do you want!?" Weland grumbled and asked angrily. "If you want to fuck me, fine! Do it! You already forced yourself to me the first and second time. I've already let you have your way with me, especially letting your brother slide his dick in my mouth, so why the hells are you still trying to be suggestive for!?"

Kenia playfully replied. "Whoa there, I'm just doing this to... Be more 'experienced.' After all, you and my step sister's going to be married once you two come of age or get older. So I'm just prepping you in how to ‘make kids,’ hehehe. My sister's going to be busy for awhile, how about you and I have some fun? Too bad my brother Gorwin is not here right now and is in a private house call appointment. He sure did enjoy making love to you and help take away your virginity that time.”

And with that, Kenia took off her clothes all in front of Weland as she also stripped him of his clothing aswell. And proceeded to have her “Fun-Times” with Weland for the next two hours.

>Later

“There! All done, well gotta get back to Weland.” Lucia was finally done with the one homework item that she forgot about and quikly headed off to her playroom to Weland again. But once she was downstairs and looked at the clock. It was already five o’clock since she had to leave Weland with Kenia during three o’clock, but she still she went to her playroom. When she got to the door it opened and Lucia’s sister Kenia came out, looking very satisfied.

“Weland was such a good playmate Lucia, he’s all your’s.”

“Really? Glad you had fun with him.” Said Lucia with a smile as Kenia also smiled back.

>>52098492
But in truth, Lucia was completely unaware of the fact that Kenia actually had sex with Weland for two straight hours, and both of them were done in love making just before Lucia even came downstairs. Lucia came in the room to see Weland looking like he was sweating as he was buttoning his pants and pulled the zipper up. He was startled to see Lucia.

“Gah! Lucia you’re there. Sorry about me adjusting my pants in front of you. Was just tightening my belt and pulled my zipper up.”

“Its fine… Why do you looks so sweaty and tired Weland?” Lucia questioned, noticing trickles of sweat on his forehead.

“Uhhh… It was an activity me and Kenia did- Yeah! That’s it! Me and Kenia did play a game, and it made me sweat a bit and slightly loosened my pants, hehehehe.”

“Oooooh! Okay… Well sorry we couldn’t finish the pretend play, again. But hey maybe you can stay for dinner? It’s around five right now.”

“I… I appreciate it Lucia, but I think I’ll be picked up soon-”

A servant of the house; the same maid who brought Weland to Lucia earlier, chimed in through the still open door way. “Pardon me Lucia, your parents are already here. They said both you and mister Weland Faulkner come to the dinner room, dinner is already served and is waiting for the both of you.”

The servant then walked out as Lucia held to both of Weland’s. “Well dinner’s already served, it’d be rude if you didn’t join us, also my mom and dad’s here too. Come on.”

“…Well I suppose so, I am feeling hungry now.”

Weland and Lucia walked out of the playroom and proceeded to the dining room, with Lucia pulling Weland’s arm. Once they’ve reached the dining room, there they saw the delicious food being served and also Lucia’s parents, Senator Bradley Ingraham and Lura Bryrel.

>>52104832
>Lucia was completely unaware of the fact that Kenia actually had sex with Weland for two straight hours

I feel like you have unrealistic expectations in this area.

Phone bump

How do I write a setting-based story instead of a character based story. I don't understand/care about humans and emotions except for my self and my own.

>>52107872
You don't. Or rather, you shouldn't. I've done it plenty of times, but it does a disservice to your setting because good stories require good characters.

But if you want an archetypal example of how to do it: old man telling stories to a group of travellers preparing to travel through the setting. You can set it up with basically a few lines at the beginning and a few more interspersed throughout, and the rest is all just about the setting.

For an example of this, look at the Storythread wiki page, number 121 - 'The Thirst'

File: 1466036783845.jpg (274KB, 2000x818px) Image search: [Google]

274KB, 2000x818px

>>52107872
>How do I write a setting-based story instead of a character based story.
You generally don't. Or at least you can't expect that story to be very good or interesting.
That said, probably going for a faux-history book/faux-non-fiction format would be the best way to go around it. A travelers journal also might be an option.
If you want to really go through with it, I'd suggest looking into these stories:
A) Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius by Jorge Luis Borges (a short story about world building and philosophy)
B) Chazarian Dictionary by Milored Pavić (an experimental novel about fictional history of a semi-fictional nation full of weird magical themes, in the format of an actual dictionary)
C) Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino (fictional travel diaries of surreal/magical landscapes.)
D) Golden Age by Michal Ajvaz (Fictional memoirs of a man living on a surreal magical island, recounting it's strange architecture, history, mythology, traditions and customs.)
Those are some of the few authors that actually really pulled it off, but they are also some very hard and inaccessible reading.

But really, writing a functional settings-based story without good characters and human stories is generally a stupid idea and something only a very few authors with a LOT of talent can pull off. Usually only through some very strong philosophical ideas and/or some really interesting formal fuckery. And even then it's not something most people will want to read.

>>52105251
Not only that. But is it even fucking legal to have things like that mentioned in this blueboard?

>>52107872

Read some Bradbury short stories. They're usually about weird places and events with the characters as catalysts.

Your real hangup is
>I don't understand/care about humans and emotions

If you don't care about emotion you can't write a good story. Period.

>>52109370
Long as the pictures aren't NSFW, the mods don't really bother with it.

>>52109538
Really? Even with things like "Straight Shota" beong mentioned? I mean just look at >>52098492

>"Grrrrrr... What the fuck do you want!?" Weland grumbled and asked angrily. "If you want to fuck me, fine! Do it! You already forced yourself to me the first and second time. I've already let you have your way with me, especially letting your brother slide his dick in my mouth, so why the hells are you still trying to be suggestive for!?"

Not asking for the author of that story to be in trouble or get banned, iam just curious and all.

Anyone have that greentext where one guy is playing a serious delver of unknowable eldritch secrets in a magical girl setting and drives a piece of shit car to ferry the girls around?

>>52113553
Not the right thread, anon -
>This is a thread for creative writing, so epic campaign greentexts and the like go elsewhere.

Try a greentext thread.

>>52002420
The cardboard had been stiff when he had gotten it. Included with one meaningless item or another, it had piled up in a spare room, the vibrant brown slowly covered in a layer of grey dust. Uncreased surfaces wilted with age, edges curling in the presence of moisture. It wasn't until things started in earnest that he thought of building something out of them. Something to protect himself with. Steel proved of no use, the authorities even worse. Pills and alcohol fell worthless in the face of his silent foe, sex and drugs only adding to the butcher's bill that lay heavy upon his mind. On an airless afternoon in July, with heat pouring from his brow, he staggered into that darkened room with a roll of tape in hand and a single boxcutter.

And he began to build.

It had started simple. The breastplate had been more of a cuirass, secured in the rear with shoelaces hastily repurposed. His pounding heart informed him of its inadequacy, and so he improved. A helmet was added, the legacy of an old Christmas gift. Masking tape served to patch whatever tears the passage of time and his own abuse had created, and viewing slits were soon replaced by proper eyeholes. A pair of cereal boxes provided pauldrons, turned inside out to ensure his anonymity. His foes fed off of individualized fear, and he was determined to deny them their feast.

>Cont, 1/2

>>52116749
For want of a small enough box, flexbility was facilitated via nesting multiple longer boxes, overlapping one over the other. In this way his arms were given movement, encased in cardboard all the way from his shoulder down to his trembling wrists. With sorrow in his heart he capitulated, digging an old pair of leather gloves out from his disused garage to serve as gauntlets. A new box, this one stamped with the distinctive logo of a furniture manufacturer, armored his torso, the earlier designed replaced with something more reminiscent of the chivalric clamshell. Hasty dashes to a nearby stationary supply store yielded enough material to likewise clad his legs, boxes that had contained phones three development cycles ago pressed once more into service as unlikely sabatons.

Our hero was armored, but he lacked arms.

First came his shield, that bulwark behind his continual survival lay cowering. Four different boxes went into its crafting, and three rolls of tape. Half again as wide as his forearm was long, he held it with telling might, bravely interposing it before all that may do him harm. Wrapping paper held the secret to his noble sword, carboard tubes bound into crossguard and tang, his blade surprisingly capable given its construction.

And so he stood, and faced his enemies. Their number was legion, their causes many. The names the wore changed along with their faces, melting from friend to family and back again, becoming people he had seen and had not and would and would never. He stood alone, on the brink of insanity, and stared into the abyss before him.

He stood alone, feet planted wide, and challenged his nightmares to come.

As always, comments and criticism are welcome. I know I need to start writing actual narratives, but there's something powerful about describing time as a series of images. Or maybe not. That's up to the reader.

So this kid xXEyasIunaXx ( luna has an i not L) on PSN, got the best Hatemail, id rather reply the best way, send elephant noises via mic & complain how your gameboy is incompatible with porn. I will start with spam bots :) Enjoy.

>>52120292
Oh hey, that is a Heretic artwork right there!

File: Yokohama.jpg (109KB, 1448x1080px) Image search: [Google]

109KB, 1448x1080px

Ok, this one is going to be dumb. Like, really dumb. But I'll let you be the judge:

> Confession:
“First let me explain the fundamental problem that drove me into this unfortunate predicament. Please grant me your attention for a little, because before I explain anything else, I have to speak for a bit about dreams.

Dreams… dreams are such a peculiar thing, aren’t they? I’ve been drawn to them, fascinated by them ever since I was a child. Ever since I first experienced the vastness of the dreamscapes, the amazing detail and complexity of their content, I was baffled by the sheer amount of imagination, the sheer amount of hidden work, unconscious creativity contained in them.

In the 19th century, a man named Alfred Maury claimed he had a dream in which he participated in French Revolution. Within this dream, he was captured by the revolutionaries, trialled, and sentenced to death. After being paraded and shamed in the street of Paris, he was brought to the guillotine: and as he felt the blade dropping on his head, he was woken a sudden, sharp pain on the back of his neck. As he jumped up, startled, he discovered that a poorly secured painting fell down from its place and landed on his neck, perfectly lining with the moment in which the blade was supposed to hit him in the dream.

Baffled by this inexplicable experience, Maury formulated new theory of dreams. Refusing to accept that such event was merely an act of coincidence, Maury claimed that dreams don’t really happen over time, as we sleep. Rather, he argued, they are a product of fabrication and framing of our brain’s activity in the very moment of waking up. In other words, he claimed that instead of dreaming of French Revolution, and then being hit in the neck with a picture frame, he was in fact hit in the back of his neck first, and his brain fabricated the story of his execution upon the very moment of his awakening, retroactively justifying the experience.
>1/5

>>52120396
Maury was one of the first to establish studies of dreams as a scientific discipline and inspired by him, many scientists have attempted to explain and rationalize the mysterious structure of dreams. Many have claimed that sensibilities of depth, complexity or fidelity of a dream are all post hoc rationalizations. That people fail to remember their dreams because dreams are, inherently, “fuzzy” and incomplete, barely comparable to real-life, truly vidid experience. That the sense of depth and complexity is not really a reflection of the true nature of dreams, but rather a residual and accidental feeling, an emotion rather than a memory, created by the brain as it struggles to recover from the strange state. I know that all of those people are wrong. Because when I was 17, I cracked the code - I have walked beyond the mirror. I have found an unlimited access to the land of dreams.

I see now, from the look of your faces, that you may be less forgiving of my excursion into the history of dreams and my ties to them, and that I might be losing your attention. Very well then: I’ll spare you description of those faithful events, of my first grand adventure that happened on the day of my 17th birth day. Neither will I bore you with the topology of dreamlands, with the nearly unlimited wisdom I had found when exploring them: I’ll be brief, and try to recount only what is immediately important to our current situation.
>2/5

>>52120405
One discovery that I had made, I can’t skip though. And that is the fact that dreams are not a mere isolated process, flashes of fiction contained to our minds when we sleep. In fact, dreams are a place - a true landscape to be explored. I’ve learned to remain conscious, fully attentative in my dreams. Where others are merely half-consciously participating on them, I’ve truly lived in the great dream scape. Explored it. Studied it. And just like the mythical priests of Chazarian Dream Hunters, I’ve learned that the land of dreams is shared among all people. There is just one dreamland, one that is common to every living person. That we can and do meet others, casually and commonly, every night when we shut out eyes. Most will never remember, nor be in control of their own actions when dreaming, but those few, those like me, the followers of Pavić legacy, can use dreams like others use social media: casually entering others dreams, talking to each other regardless of the distances. I’ve tested this: I’ve met and dream-talked to people from the other side of the world, shared my address, and they had contacted me in my waking days - despite the two of us never talking in the waking world before. I’ve tampered with others dreams, and then listened to their surprise when they were announcing to me how they saw me in their sleep. I have… well, I have learned with great confidence: dreams are the only time when people are truly together, truly sharing their existence with others, regardless of the pesky obstacles that stand between us in the real world. It has always been like this: but most will never become aware of it.
3/5

>>52120414
Yes, yes I see you are impatient. The reason why I’m saying all of this is - this is how I met Clarissa. I met her one day as I travelled the dream land, and I immediately recognized that she was not like the others. Ordinary people merely stumble around in dream lands - like puppets or zombies, as they are barely aware of their own presence. She was different, she was one of the blessed ones: I could see it from the way she looked around, from the way she examined the ever-changing, strange landscape. I knew that she, she existed in this strange world the same way I had: that her access to the dream world, her conscious and memory, her presence was - like mine - absolute.

She was just a child, lost in a situation she could not yet comprehend. Tiny figure in a night gown, shivering against a backdrop of a heavy dreamstorm. And so I reached out to her, and she answered. I lead her out of the storm and I began teaching her about the rules of the dream realms - I’ve become her mentor, and her friend.

Meeting on purpose within the land of dreams is not an easy task, mind you. But we always found a way to find each other, every single night. She seemed lonely - she seemed to take refuge from the real world in her dreams. But she never talked about her waking life, and neither did I.

Yes, she was a child when we met. Barely 14. And I was pushing 30. But you have to understand: time flows different in dreams. What seems like a mere minute in the real world stretches for months within your dreams. And so, with each night passing, we spend years together. She grew up, and I grew old, every night. And as I watched her transform - from a tiny, shy child into a smart and beautiful lady - I fell in love with her. And she requited that love.
4/5

>>52120423
Or at least, she had recognized and rewarded my feelings for her. Experienced with the wisdom of many lifetimes shared in our dream adventures, she became wiser than ever was, and I felt tiny, insignificant next to her: but still I could not wait to close my eyes and meet her again - to watch how our roles reversed, and how she was now guiding me through the treatcheries of nightmares. I began to dread waking days. I began to spite this body that ages so slow, the painfully dragged out time of reality: all I could think of is closing my eyes - dreaming, seeing her.

After all this, you must understand: I was not in any way surprised when one day, I suddenly met her in my waking life. As I said, we never talked about who we were in reality: I never knew that the woman I met and fell in love with in my dreams really lived just a few blocks far away. But when I finally met her, on a complete accident, I was not surprised. Neither was I surprised when she approached me and called out my name. The little girl I’ve already lived a hundred lives with. There - next to me, in the flesh, reaching for my hand.

So tell me. After all that: Can you really blame us, that our love overflowed and blossomed, that it could be no longer contained to our dreams: that we became one in mind first, and body second?”

>The judge’s reply:
“Yes. Yes I can. Do you take me for a fool?! You are accused of a sexual conduct with a minor! This really has to be the DUMBEST attempt to defend yourself, or the most inane attempt to plea insanity I’ve ever seen.

I rule you guilty in all points of the charge. After what you just displayed, consider yourself lucky that I’m not adding contempt of court to the to list of your charges.

I am sentencing you to five years of prison, and you’ll be subjected to mandated treatment for sexual offenders for the next ten years.

Now get the hell out of my sight.”
>Fin

This was supposed to be a comedy. Thoughts?

>>52105251
Oh hey a form of criticism and or feedback for my current story.

Well nah, not saying Lucia is aware or is suspecting her playmate is being fucked roughly by her older sister. What I meant by that she's just oblivious or completely has no idea what was really happening and thought it was all just innocent play.

>>52120650
The criticism was probably more aimed towards the idea of people having sex for solid two hours. Sex does not usually last that damn long. That only happens in anime.

>>52121017
>That only happens in anime.
Speak for yourself. I'm not just bragging, btw - I'm not saying it would be two straight hours of continuous intercourse, but counting foreplay two hours isn't unreasonable.

>>52121055
You are bragging, and to absolute majority of people this does actually sound pretty fucking unreasonable.

>>52104832
Lura Bryrel used her magic to telekinetically move some vacant chairs a bit backwards and motioned to Lucia and Weland. “Come on dear daughter and Weland, take a seat and dig in.”

Lucia and Weland got to their chairs and sat down, with Weland and Lucia sitting together next to each other. And just then Kenia also walked in, greeted her parents and sat down in a chair too. She looked to Weland and gave him a wink to which Weland cringed to.

They then ate together, enjoying the food: pasta, roasted and or grilled vegetables, well done steak and hearty clam chowder soups. And despite Kenia’s presence; Weland did enjoy the food served along with the accompanying music being played in the nearby radio. Lucia even decided to be playful by sharing her dish with Weland, in which she took a spoonful of steak soaked with the soup, motioned Weland to open his mouth and placed the spoonful of food in his mouth.

“Delicious, right Weland?” Lucia asked delightfully with a bit of playfulness.

“Mmmhhhmmm.” Weland replied with full mouth as he then chewed his food and swallowed. “Yes it is Lucia. Do you have food like this every day?”

“Hehehe, I guess you can say that with my mom and dad being rich and famous.”

Said Lucia as she earned chuckles from her mother, father and even step sister. “Its somewhat true Weland, but here in the Democratic Republic of Briastrin. Any hard working family and or citizen can afford a delicious dinner like this to feed their family, thanks with good studies to land in a good paying job.” Bradley Ingraham said proudly as he continued. “Its good you’re finally warming up to the modernized and civilized lifestyle, culture and values. And it also puts a smile in my face that you are being a good friend, playmate and partner for our dear half-elven daughter Lucia.”

>>52121017
>>52121055
>>52121309
And good God, I hope I did not create a sex duration discourse in this thread.

>>52121806
>And good God, I hope I did not create a sex duration discourse in this thread.
It's not really about how well can anyone individual preform, but rather what will majority of readers find belivable and not mess with their suspension of disbelief and ability to relate to the text.
Even if individuals can last much longer, when most of the people who ever had sex see casual mentions of sex lasting two hours, they will very likely be taken out of the text and perhaps wonder if the author even know what he is talking about.
This is not usually something you as an author want to achieve. You should always consider the relatability of your statements and observations, even if you trust they are justified for what ever reason: if it does not work in the readers mind, it's probably not written well.

>>52011463
Softly humming the woman looked out of the window, her sword hand at her chin her shield hand on her hip, her front foot tip planted behind her back foot heel in a smooth bend of a cross legged stance. Her yellow breeches fastened to her waist with the copper belt her master…their master had gifted her fastened with pale and thin silk gauze that hung down the length of her legs, beneath the belt, the ever present red of her old torn sash; a remembrance from the past, a dark grey top covered her ivory torso beneath and a puff shouldered half jacket hugged her shoulders tightly, its sleeves ending in the golden bracers inlaid with a jade amulet.

She was beautiful, elegant…desirable. But he had known her a long time, he had known her since their youth, and her brother would only feel betrayed. Regardless, his affections were already promised to another, the one who saved him.

But still he couldn’t help but admire the figure, her tawny hair fastened with the old Cerun tribal circlet, the gleaming cerulean beads hung like inedible but pretty fruits from her pierced lobes.

His vision was suddenly focused on the blade that rested on the meticulously made console table, the sun was pouring its rays almost on to the sheathed sword it seemed.

He took it as a sign, she was a warrior, a soldier dedicated to her oath. The same oath he took all those years back.

The oath taken before, their master, the immortal Siddhar, an Axe wielding Warsage from the ancient times of Old Earth. It was binding and their great tasks yet to be done.

“The people here are certainly ingenious,” her sweet voice broke his reverie.

Her eyes looked at him and he looked back at the blue orbs, he said nothing.

“Don’t you think so, Sravan?” she asked again.

Sravan looked outside the window and saw the airship miraculously floating in the distance.

>>52130580

“I think so dear Tahra, I do believe they are quite ingenious,” Sravan felt a weight off his shoulder, he suddenly understood that though he may feel desire there will not be anything by camaraderie.

So Sravan smiled, his teeth gleaming at her.

Tahra smiled back and turned her head staring back out the window, across the vast acres of land spread out beneath the Blackwood mansion.

“I wonder if the Senate will show up,” she said sighing.

Sravan irked at the mention of his own government, the Republic was on alert now, the sudden wars in the north west and the reappearance of a
Ether Rend gateway and the gathering pace of the Urk civil war, all these led to the same conclusion his master had predicted.

“The Axe has convinced them, there is no doubt,” Sravan added his seated stance moving as he imagined his old friend Tushar was not far away with his banners.

“A Vajran Warhost in action! I would have never thought of seeing them in action!” Tahra said as she turned around, “will you leave us to spend time with your countrymen?”

Sravan nodded, “I will never leave you or your brother, you are my dear family, the only one I have. Why would I leave you for the company of strangers?”

Tahra approached him and Sravan stood up, “I have always said that,” he added.

Her hands reached up to his swarthy face and stroked his clean shaven jaw, “You have, and I swear to do the same.”

“Till the end,” he said as he stared into her eyes, “sister.”

“Always, brother,” Tahra said as she hugged him.

>>52096254
"WHO'S GOT STUPID ARMS NOW YOU FAGGOTS" roared General Thunderfuck, "LETS SEE ONE OF YOU APES MAKE ANOTHER JOKE ABOUT MY LITTLE ARMS NOW HUH? FACE ME YOU CHICKENSHITS!"

Fowl Thunderfuck won the day. His radical augmentation and heroic demonstration on the battlefield inspired his troops to undergo the procedure as well, and soon an army of blademaster tyrannosauruses swept across the land, utterly decimating every man, woman and child they encountered, until they reached the last remaining bastion of humanity. Until they reached the bane of their military strategy.

With no hands, they had no way to deploy, rearm or firm their siege weaponry. With no hands they had no way to open the giant metal doors blocking the way to the last of their opposition. From the safety of the castle walls the humans mocked the dinosaurs, and after a standstill lasting nearly a week in which several of Thunderfucks own men were slain (complications involving a persistent itch and having greatswords for hands), the spirit of the dinolads was broken and they returned home as defeated conquerors.

Their dinowives quickly shunned them from the great cave cities. Not due to dinoPTSD from the war, but because they could no longer embrace one another without worrying about being skewered. (Mary Thunderfuck reported having one of her tits chopped off during mating season, and her sister across the valley says her friend lost her big toe)

And that, my dear boy, is why you can not roll to seduce the tyrannosaur. They are a noble race that has suffered much heartache at the hands of humanoids,and I should think they would augment their genitals with glaives before they lay with you. Your nat 20 and proficiency in animal handling doesn't do jack shit.

>>52121806
>And good God, I hope I did not create a sex duration discourse in this thread.

Well, you've got one.

http://www.nerve.com/love-sex/how-often-do-most-couples-have-sex

Average length of intercourse is 7.3 minutes, but a whopping 43% of that is guys finishing under 2 minutes.

i'll be back later and i'll give you some actual criticism when I have time

>>52121806
Lura Bryrel, Lucia’s elven mother, also joined in the talking. “I do hope you still do not hold long grudges Weland and that the damages the Cedna Accord did to Eustran are put behind you. The accord is still working to fix it all and make restitution for the price of war waged between your mother declaring war against us… It was never anything personal; I really do hope you understand. Again the accord is making restitutions to rebuild and make Eustran better.”

Weland is once again reminded of that, his mother dying at the hands of the Cedna Accord as she defiantly tried to think of something to say, but he had nothing in mind or atleast nothing better to say so he just simply stared at the table thanks to that reminder. But Lucia; noticing Weland looking sorrowful, held his hand that was laid on the table. Weland noticed Lucia’s hand above his to see her giving him a warm smile. Weland looked at Lucia for awhile, which surprisingly made him at ease once again and smiled back to her.

Senator Bradley Ingraham; Lucia’s father, decided to break the ice all whilst everyone were eating their dinner. “So Lucia, what did you and Weland do today? More play time? Ever talk about your studies or share each other’s educational experiences?

Lucia answered. “Just play time dad, it’s a weekend after all.”

Weland also spoke. “Well just like my sister, I’m sometime tutored or lectured by Captain Bethany Cameron and or Wizard Vulmar Sarsalor. Unlike my sister, I was already educated with reading, language and basic mathematics, but Captain Cameron and Mister Sarsalor would sometimes quiz me or teach me a thing or two about this country, Chimax, the accord and the politics surrounding this faction… Oh by the way, I was told I’d be picked up around five. Captain Cameron, Mister Sarsalor and another official told me.”

>>52133688
Senator Ingraham replied to that. “Yes they did mention that to me and that you’ll be picked up along with your sister. Don’t worry too much. I told them, including your sister. That you’ll be staying over for the night instead, after all you and my half-elven daughter are good friends and enjoy each other’s company.”

Lura Bryrel chimed in. “Indeed. Weland, you are will have a sleep over here at our house.”

Lucia was delighted by this. “Wow! Mom, dad! Weland can sleep in my room!?”

Lura chuckled. “Sure thing, I’ll tell Darrel our maid to ready a mattress, pillow and blanket for Weland here.”

But then Kenia also chimed in. “Actually I was thinking Weland share me and Gorwin’s room. Gorwin and I have plenty of ‘grownup’ related things to talk about with Weland after all.”

Weland quickly reacted. “Uhhh, no thank you. I’ll share a room with Lucia, we have stories ourselves we can swap and share together!”

Bradley Ingraham and Lura Bryrel both chuckled at that. Kenia also chuckled while winking at Weland. Lura spoke. “It appears Weland will share rooms with Lucia. I’ll tell Darrell later. For now, who wants dessert?”

“I would, I’d want a large ice cream parfait please, mother.” Kenia said to her mother.

“I’d just have decaffeinated coffee my dear.” Said Bradley Ingraham.

“Me and Weland will have ice cream with fudge!” Lucia said happily as Weland nodded in agreement.

With that, Lura waved her hands as they glowed slightly. Then with a puff of purple smoke the desserts that the people requested. An ice cream parfait materialzed in front of Kenia. Bradley Ingraham’s mug was filled with decaf coffee and a bowl of ice cream with fudge came in front of Lucia and Weland.

“Hehehe dig in Weland, they don’t make this stuff where you came from right?” Lucia said teasingly which Weland just nodded off to as he dug in along with Lucia’s family.

>End

>>52135296
Well there you go, another story to add some slight worldbuilding to the story the Declaration of Surrendependance takes place in.

>>52132947
And sure, I'll wait for any feedback. So hit me with the criticism stick.

>>52003843
Because you started your story with the somewhat bizar mistake of using throw instead of through, I am now reading that whole story in a scandinavian accent and it's awesome.

>>52109370
Blue boards only means that you should be able to browse in a public place without the people sitting behind you knowing you're a degenerate. It doesn't mean it's suitable for kids. Basically, dirty pics are out but you can write whatever you like.

>>52142686

Shane: My fucking feet man.

Lawrence: Oh shut up, just shut the fuck up already.

Shane: No you shut up, this is all your fault you know.

Lawrence: Since fucking when? Did I crawl into that empty skull of yours and force you to mouth off to the Sergeant?

Bret: You were the one complaining about how we couldn't see shit from camp.

Lawrence: Yeah, but I wasn't dumb enough to get up in Sarge's face about it.

Shane: I didn't say anything we weren't all thinking.

Bret: I'm fairly sure I wasn't thinking any of that stuff about Sarge's mother.

Lawrence: And I didn't say shit about climbing up any fucking rocks. If you'd just kept you goddamn mouth shit we could've just moved to the top of the hill or something.

Bret: Well we *can* see a lot farther from up here.

Lawrence: Oh you stay out of this mister "my rock has grass on it", fucking brown-noser.

Shane: Look, it's not my fault he took some shit out of context, and it's been like four hours, he's gotta have calmed down a bit by now. I say we climb-

Lawrence: Don't you even fucking consider it!

Shane: Oh come on, we've been up here all morning and haven't seen shit, and Sarge's been asleep for an hour now, I say we climb down and-

>CLIMB DOWN HERE AND WHAT PRIVATE PISSY PANTS?

Shane: CLIMB DOWN THERE AND TELL YOU HOW MUCH WE LIKE STANDING SENTRY ON THESE ROCKS SIR!

>GOOD ANSWER PRIVATE, NOW SHUT YOUR TRAP AND KEEP WATCHING. NEXT ONE OF YOU SHITS WHO INTERRUPTS MY NAP IS GOING TO FUCKING SLEEP UP THERE, YOU HEAR ME?

YES SIR!

>>52148099
How long had it been? It was hard to calculate time when time was such a foreign concept. What is the flow of time to something infinite, to something that cannot age? That's what the automaton thought as it plugged away at the library device, sorting thought millions of books, with thousands entering every day.
It wondered if there were familiar faces among the crowds of beings that ebbed and flowed from the library. Did they recognize time? Or was time just as foreign to them as it is to itself.
Self, another puzzling question, was it really its own thing? Was it an independent entity, or was it simply part of a greater whole? There were thousands of similar models, all the same, blonde hair, black dress, mechanical arms, and glowing yellow eyes. They called us MAIDS, a term that is to denote a worker that takes care of another, are we something other than a MAID?
It tapped diligently away at the computer, organizing "Balalasanki's Tribute to the Modern Miracle of the New Dawn Church" in the Religion Section, under Cults, under Balalasanki, under old alphabetical term B, section 3, row 2, slot 5.

Then it showed up.
One of the faceless crowds appeared before it, lost, confused. It didn't know where it was or how it ended up there.
What does it want?

>>52120437
First, a person is not trialled. They are tried and executed. I also think the charge is sexual misconduct, not conduct, with a minor. I'm not a lawyer, though.

Second, this post definitely took a turn I was not expecting. Nicely done.

>>52114456
(1/2)
You're walking through the junkyard after dark. Normally you don't like going after dark, that's when the homeless fucks start wandering talking about how they served in Taiwan during the Chinese Crisis, or marched into Moscow during the European incident (not mentioning the next part). However, you're feeling good tonight, the feeling's just right, you took your Billie club and taser and set out.

What you're hunting for? Junk and scrap mostly, during the day it's filled with scavengers like yourself, scrounging what tech people decide to throw out. It's pretty good every now and again, it pays the bills.

You're walking along your usual route when you hear the low hum of a battery. You ready yourself for anything, your thumb on the flashlight high beam to blind some homeless guy if need be.

What you encounter instead is a Moebot V3, before they had the whole "Skin" part down pat. They're technically personal helpers that slowly evolved into glorified real-life anime. Moebotcon (MBC) was held last month, with the company unveiling V6 (those damn things have multiple arms now).

>>52150618
(2/2)

It's leg is torn off, probably by a Moebot fight (illegal as they are entertaining), with bits and pieces of its skin being tore off. It sits there on a pile of trash, smiling vacantly in the distance. You wonder who left a machine like this alone, hell this thing could still fetch a couple hundred credits at the right Moebot fight ring.

You inspect closer. At this distance you can unfortunately see the problem. Batteries busted, looks like a nasty punch or a claw got in there. Car battery is probably just a temporary fix that just . . . fell out one day. She got discarded, its owner probably not willing to shut it off (Moebot-fans claim the things have "feelings).

You take out some of your good work gloves and unplug the battery. Her blue eyes quickly dull as she enters a low-low power state. You debate on whether or not to take the battery, its heavy, but you ultimately decide to take it. It's probably the most valuable thing on it.

You think you can get a hefty payment of around 350 c's for it. As you heft the thing over your shoulder you remember your old pal Chopshop Hank, he fucking LOVES broken Moebots (his "creations" are another matter entirely, you still have nightmares about CAR-men).

You smile to yourself as you walk off, you're eating real meat tomorrow.

>>52103836
(1/2)
"Oi, Elf, is this bloody thing one of your peoples blades?"
"Of course, you can tell by the runes on the hilt, and the glow of the blade. Also, my name is not 'elf' it's Glandolin," the Elf said, glaring down at Foril, the damnable Dwarf that declared he was coming along.
"Ey, of course Glady"
"Can you two stop flirting, we have to get this damn gold out of here fast, who knows when these hobs' friends will show up," The halfling woman threw another dozen coins into the pouch.
"Hey, Eli, what's that you got in your hand there?" The halfling stood up and stared at the knight's white cloak as he stared down at the object in his hand.

KILL THEM

The voice of the ring was deafening in his ears. Eli tried to move his hand, but it simply refused.

THEY ARE WEAK

He couldn't throw the ring, he couldn't yell in pain or plead for aid. He stood there, transfixed by the purple ring.

THEY PLOT AGAINST YOU

The Hobgoblins that held the ring was larger, stronger, and the leader of this band. The other Hobgoblins did not follow him out of loyalty, but out of fear.

THE DWARF SEES ONLY GOLD

He could faintly heard Foril arguing with Glandolin over the value of the blade.

THE ELF IS HAUGHTY

Glandolin corrected Foril again on the proper value of the Elven blade, demanding at upmarked price because of the "Fine Craftsmanship"

>>52150843
(2/2)
THE HALFLING SEES YOUR BACK

The Halfling woman tugged on Eli's cloak. It was a sudden movement, faster than she could register. Even Eli couldn't comprehend what had occured, seeing only the spurt of blood as his blade lodged into the Halfing. Cutting through the shoulder downard toward the heart. The look of fear was on etched on her face.

DEFEND YOURSELF ELI, THE DWARF ATTACKS

Eli looked up, it was in slow motion almost as Foril hefted his axe in shock and anger. He moved foward slowly, as if to reason with Eli. Eli lunged with his blade in hand.

THE ELF IS UPON YOU

Eli whipped around, throwing the Dwarf off balance, and slashing the Elf along the chest sending Glandolin reeling.

END IT ELI, END THE ELF

He kept up the offence, hacking away at the Elf who could not defend himself against his onslaught.

THE DWARF ELI, THE DWARF

Eli spun, catching the Dwarf's axe in the side, knocking it aside. Foril was talking, he was afraid, but angered.

THE EYE ELI, THE EYE

Eli lunged and drove the sword deep into the helm of the Dwarf, who was more surprised at the sheer speed the Human could muster. The sword plunged deep into the Dwarf's cranium, killing him.

THE VILLAINS ARE DEAD ELI

He stood there, the gore of his former companions, no, traitors littered the field.

JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED

>>52150380
Thanks. Trialled/tried is a stupid mistake, as for other legal terminology, I'm not even a native speaker, much less familiar with principles and terminology of english or US common law. I'll correct those.

My main concern is whenever the "joke" works or not. I could expand on it, refine it a bit, but I don't know if it's worth it, if the joke isn't just a bit too crass and pointless.
Suprising is one thing, making people laugh is a bit different. I'm not sure if there is a point to a story like this if it surprises, but not entertains.

>>51999052
Hello Chronicler, this the author speaking/typing. I completed my story so far, but however I changed my mind. So far this the latest post of this week's story of mine: >>52135296

Despite me saying its the end, forget it. I didn't feel like it was a good enough conclusion after checking it the second time. So I decided I'll simply add maybe a few more to give it a slightly better conclusion.

So to Chronicler or anyone who's read my story for this week:

>>52008889
>>52023987
>>52024990
>>52025945
>>52038260
>>52038842
>>52044408
>>52044660
>>52054690
>>52071236
>>52071330
>>52072671
>>52085075
>>52085790
>>52098492
>>52104832
>>52121806
>>52133688
>>52135296

I'll just make one more or two more posts to give it a slightly better conclusion since I personally felt it didn't feel right. So forget I said its done at >>52135308

I'll be back and post 'em later on. Thanks.

>>52171585
Man, Dinotopia was such a beautifully illustrated book. I should get a hardback copy of it and the sequel to have as coffee-table books.

>>52041785
Does anyone have pics similar to that one? This is great desu.
>tfw English isn't your first language and you're literally too illiterate to write stories

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1am bump

Continuation for >>52135296

Some time has passed as Lucia, her family and Weland enjoyed and savored their desserts. Bradley Ingraham spoke again after he finished half of his decaffeinated coffee.

"By the way I almost forgot, Kenia and Lucia, where is your elven brother; Gorwin?"

Kenia answered to that. "He is currently in a private appointment with a customer, tending to a customer who has fever and arthritis and making said customer feel better with a homebrew potion with his alchemical know-how. And he’ll be staying over his current patient-slash-customer home for the whole day and night since said patron requires such services from Gorwin. He’ll be coming back home tomorrow.

Bradley Ingraham spoke about one of his activities this day. “Well as for me, we actually had a minor hearing in the senate earlier today. And you won’t believe what its about!”

“Well what is it daddy???” Lucia asked as everyone; Lura, Lucia, Kenia and Weland were eagerly awaiting as to what Senator Ingraham was talking about.

“Get this… A few or a couple of guilt-ridden congress men and women proposed we should ‘give more rights’ to Orcs and Goblins. Orcs and Goblins! Pahahaha! What a joke!” Senator Ingraham, Lura and Kenia laughed together at that. Weland was indifferent but Lucia questioned.

“Dad, mom, big sister, what’s so funny?” Asked Lucia who was quickly answered by her sister Kenia.

“Well in case you still haven’t known or learned about it. Orcs are these big muscled and green people with sharp pointy teeth and wield crude weapons-”

Lucia interrupted. “I know what Orcs are, but what’s so funny about them… ‘Asking for rights???’”

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It was far too early for the Harriet Estate to have visitors. However, despite all odds and the wishes of the sole proprietor of the aged estate, there was indeed one visitor.

Meet Sir Yorrick of Kupiercke, loyal half-ghost knight of the House of the Banshee Queen Sieghoff. Normally at this time of day, he would have been at his mistress' keep, practicing his swordplay for the day ahead. Now that his mistress had given him a "day off", words he had never heard put together in the context used, he found himself wandering aimlessly throughout Gainesborough until he came across an estate to the north that looked like it was in the process of being reclaimed by the forest. Perhaps the owner here might have a purpose for him.

The door to this estate slowly opens to find a very disgruntled detective, still in a bathrobe and with a teacup in hand. Her hair was a complete mess and her eyes obscured. "Who the hell is it this early in the morning? My hours are at 7:00 on the dot and..."
"Madam Raina Harriet," Yorrick announces, man-cleaving sword at his side. "I come to your side as a servant." He kneels in deference. "Please allow me to serve."
The declaration did nothing for the irritated detective's face. "This is too damn early for me." She slams the door in his face.
"Madam?" She could hear from behind the wood. "May I come in?"
"No."
Thus did Yorrick wait, his sword still gripped. The morning was already beginning to warm up, sun slowly creeping over the horizon and shadows retreating. He keeps his eyes alert and blade readied for whatever he could see. However, compared to the keep he lived in, this this place was far quieter. The only noises in the air were the buzzing of bugs and birds. The only sights were the waving of trees and grass. This calm made the knight close his eyes, slowly entering a trance. Nothing else moved in this place separated from the rest of the world.

>>52193388
Eventually, the door opens once more, Raina Harriet now in her proper uniform as a detective with a greatcoat and hat adorned with a ribbon. Her face was still twisted in frustration, but compared to earlier her face was clearer. "You're still here?"
Yorrick's steely blue eyes open immediately. "My apologies, Madam Harriet," he responds. "I was...unsure what your orders were."
Again there was a dead-eyed stare from her before she decided to let him into her estate to find a house remarkably nicer than it looked from the outside. The common room where they conversed had plenty of furniture, tables replete in covers and coasters, lamps with decorative shades and a cupboard with etching in the doors.
"So explain this to me again," Raina reiterates as she grabs her pipe to begin smoking. "Your mistress the Banshee Queen Yuliya of Sieghoff left for a hiatus and locked you out of the estate you lived in. On top of that, she told you that it was your day off." Yorrick nodded to each of these statements. "So what I fail to get is how this leads to you showing up on my doorstep at Six Thirty in the morning."
Yorrick states, "Because you are a worthy adversary who I see as a good...friend?"
"If you wanted a friend, you could have asked anyone else in Gainesborough. You could have asked - no, actually don't ask Marley," Raina found herself cutting her own argument off. "Actually, why didn't you go visit the Estate Crimsone? I'm sure their head butler could use a spare set of hands."
For once, the gallant knight in green sports a shade of red. "Ah, I and Sa - er, Mister Sasha are not in that sort of relationship. He is a respected peer." The response cues a curious gaze in the detective's eye.
"What about Sally Cornelia then?" As much as Raina disliked mentioning her competition, she knew that the green-haired cleric was probably the most open person she knew. "Her office is probably closer to the gateway to the Deadlands than my estate in any case."

>>52194751
Yorrick admits, "This is true, Madam Harriet, however... I must protest that recommendation as I find Madam Cornelia's attitude most flippant. Your attitude makes me feel more...comfortable." Raina only mutters about how early this was and how she would need more than just tea for this to make sense. "Madam," he speaks up, "if I am making you feel uncomfortable, then I will leave. I would be a poor servant to inconvenience my master."

At this point, Raina sighs. "No. You needn't leave."
Yorrick, excited by the news, hastily kneels in front of her. "I swear that I will serve you to my utmost...master."
"No, no calling me master." The detective grabs the knight and sets him upright. "I do not need servants."
"Then what am I to do?" Yorrick asks in confusion.
"What do you normally do when you have days off?"
The question has the knight thinking. He stands rigidly as his hands steeple together. From the way he looks, it felt as though he was struck with an impossible mathematical equation. Even more confusing was how he often glances at his new master, as if expecting some sort of answer from her. Eventually, he pieces together a response. "I...do not...remember having such an...opportunity."
"You've never had a day off?" Yorrick shakes his head to her questions. "At all?" He shakes again. The revelation this provides has the detective gripping at her forehead in exasperation, muttering on about what sort of slave-shift Yorrick's real master has him working. "Have you ever even gone out of there even once?"
The knight answers, "This has been the first time I have gone so far from my mistress' side. It was...disorienting to say the least."
Before Raina could even make up her mind between being relieved that someone was relying on her and that a certain black-and-white thief was not here to make her miserable, there was a knock on the door. Yorrick immediately marches to the door before she could give the go-ahead.

>>52196279
"Hey, Rai - Holy shit!" The guest's reaction expresses complete shock, alerting Raina to her feet. She rushes to the door to find the last person she ever hoped to learn of this development: Marley Karlsson. The androgynously-dressed criminal was currently held at swordpoint by the knight and his spiritual half, now wielding a ghostly equivalent.
“Ah, hey!” Marley chirps, “So… See you got yourself a new bodyguard, eh?”
“Madam,” Yorrick asks, “Be this friend or foe?”
Marley’s eyes quiver in terror, meeting with her lone comrade’s stern gaze. The detective only let out one word, “Pest.”
“Shall I get rid of this pest?”
“Hey hey hey hey!” Marley cuts in. “You can’t be serious, right? Not to your best friend!”
“Friends?” Raina asks, “I find it rather queer to have a friend who comes to my doorstep last week asking for a loan and then leaves, only to be spotted later that same night piss-drunk at a pub during a stakeout. When asked about the money the next night, said friend then merely said, and I quote, ‘I totally didn’t blow it on booze, I swear. I’ll pay you back. Honest!’ and then fled without room for question.” Each word felt like a nail under the thief’s skin, with the unsubtle grin only making the wound wider. “One has to wonder why I would have such a person as a friend…”
“Aw, really? You’re going to hit me on that?” Marely pleads, “I’ll pay you back! I just got the money for it yesterday!”
“How much of it was from robberies?”
Marley pouts, “Does it really matter?” The stony glare from both knight and detective prove evidence enough. “N-no. I haven’t robbed anything recently. I was just running courier jobs, and before you ask, no there weren’t any drugs involved!”
“Prove it.”
“Fine, fine…” Raina signals Yorrick to lower his blade and Marley immediately leaps to her wallet to dig out some bills. “Look, all here. All 50.”
Raina interjects, “Let me be the judge of that.” She steps right in front of Marley to examine the bills.

>>51999176
Overhead thunder sounded, deafening in volume this close to the source. The earth itself shuddered and the wind picked up, going from a low whine to an intense howl. Narvak longed to brush his hair from his face, lest it fall into his mouth and interrupt the ritual. Unfortunately, the same ritual demanded that his hands remain busy with the flawless performance of a myriad of somatic components. So, instead, he simply cursed the god of magic for the umpteenth time. It had been over fourteen years since Narvak had become his loyal servant and in fourteen years he had never once been given an easy job.

When the world needed saving from a being comprised entirely of evocation magic made sentient, sapient and malevolent, his god sent him.

When the great beast caged in a never ending chain of illusions and abjuration magics threatened to break free, his god sent him.

When his god's greatest foe, the god of necromantic magics, amassed a cult so massive in size it rivaled most small nation's military forces, you better believe his god sent him.

Never had his god sent him to the fae lands, where nymphs of every variety and dryads, with their strange attraction to the mortal races, roamed free.

Nope.

Instead, his god sent him to climb the highest mountain range on the continent and stop an elemental from ascending to godhood.

Lightning burst from the sky, arcing directly for Narvak, but the magics he'd weaved earlier caught it, diverting it into the mountain around him a mere foot from his face. Bolts of lightning crashed down around him and huge chunks of the mountain tore free, floating in the now hurricane force winds.

Narvak sighed and threw his hands behind him, readying the final somatic component.

"Well, glory to Gnosyn, and all that"

>>52198037
Her eyes dart between both bill and owner, looking for any discrepancy in the ink or expression. Eventually, she decides to accept the payment. “All right, what do you want?”
“I was just gonna drop by and see how you were doing,” Marley releases a long-pent sigh, “but if you’re out on a date, don’t let me stop you. By all means.”
“A date?” Yorrick and Raina ask at the same time, one with genuine confusion while the other had a grim tone.
“Yeah, well, you’re a nice dashing young man half-ghost something, she’s a fine young woman with a business, and I’m not sure how the situation is for you and your boss, but…” Her fingers tap together as she clarifies, “Is there something?”
“No.” It took barely even a second before the answer was given.
Marley flippantly raises her arms. “Of course not. You know, you’re no fun at all like that!”
“Yeah, whatever. Get out.” Marely eventually got the hint and launched off on her magic broom/musket, but not without dropping another joke about the two of them.

As soon as Raina stopped fuming about how Marley’s presence only serves to raise her blood pressure, Yorrick asks, “Madam Harriet, what that vagabond said…what does it mean to go on a date?” The question only leads to another pained sigh from the detective. “Is something the matter?”
“Yorrick,” she speaks up. “I want you to promise me that you will never listen to a word that thief ever says.”
Yorrick pounds his chest with his fist. “I cannot promise that which I cannot accomplish.”
Raina accepts the oath. “My next question would be what your relation is with your mistress.”
“Mistress Yuliya is…complex,” the knight answers, his hand remaining still. “She is prone to so many flights of whimsy that it sometimes becomes tiresome. Despite that, she is still capable of great wisdom about life and death that other spirits often visit to ask her. The fact that this wisdom can find purchase in so many other fields was the reason my family swore their eternal servitude to her.”

>>52199681
“So that banshee is a sage?”
“Yes.” The knight continues, “It seems that this wisdom has gained some more interest due to…recent events.” Raina understood the reason. It was some years since the time that the Banshee Yuliya tried to unleash that soul-devouring tree, but it seemed that something in her must have gotten knocked loose after the cooperative efforts of Raina, Marley, and Sasha the head butler of the Estate Crimsone managed to silence the tree despite the Banshee Queen’s resistance. “I am not sure whether or not I should hold you culpable, but the timing does seem far too convenient to just be luck.”

Raina took a moment to consider what to do with Yorrick. It was clear that he would not be leaving anytime soon, but it was not as if he was a nuisance. In fact, she could learn to appreciate the company of a dedicated knight. It would also serve to get him better acquainted with Gainesborough should he ever return.
“Yorrick,” she asks, “what would you say if I asked you to accompany me on a patrol shift?”
It took barely a second for the Knight to gain his resolve. “Of course, madam! Tell me your bidding!”
It took barely even a minute before Sir Yorrick earned his keep as the carriage that Raina had gotten used to riding was gone for a round. However, instead of waiting, the knight willed his spectral half into an ethereal steed. He then grabbed his new master atop his steed and they began charging through the forested countryside into the city. The sight of a gallant knight atop his steed was one that garnered many awed gasps and looks from the town, especially when carrying a damsel (despite Raina’s repeated refusal to use the word when describing herself). The children were especially drawn to the steed, as they kept asking what was with his horse or what sort of things he fought, some even asked if this was the start of something between the two riders. Though the detective’s mood was typically sour, the knight’s humble attitude charmed them.

>>52200748
When Sir Yorrick asked the children about places to visit in the city, they essentially listed every store present. Some of the wealthier kids insisted that he visit renowned jewelers and smiths to show off his standing, the schoolchildren asked to follow them for a show-and-tell project, some even pointed out some of their favorite stores for sweets and meals. One was even brave enough to advise going to the theater as there was going to be a show that might bring the detective and knight a little closer together, citing his parents’ experiences as proof.
Her own plans for a private tour derailed, Raina only demanded that the kids make up a single route to parade him down so he could at least do something. Thus, with the sun reaching higher in the sky, did Sir Yorrick and Madam Harriet march down the street, accompanied by children. As they traveled, they asked him all sorts of questions about the things he fought and the princesses he might have rescued (he never rescued a princess, but he did have to foil several attempts to kidnap his mistress), regaling them as if they were whole sagas. Even considering that she knew that Yorrick had spent most of his life sequestered in the same estate, Raina could only wonder how he got good at telling stories. How many of these were generational? Did that Banshee know of any more? It was questions like these that helped the detective pass the time between incessant questions about going out with Yorrick and explanations about the various stores they stopped by.
Perhaps the most intriguing of the stops was when Yorrick noticed a flower shop and forced the parade to move over so he could look at it.

“Mister Yorrick, is everything okay?” One of the kids asks among countless others.
Yorrick takes a moment to appreciate a piece of shrubbery outside the storefront. “Oh, yes. Of course everything is fine. I was just appreciating the flowers here.”

>>52188782
Kenia answered. “You see Lucia, Orcs are big, dumb, mean and scary people who the military have been fighting in the Southern Badlands, recently said Orcs and Goblins sailed from the Southern Badlands, attacked some coastal towns but Briastrin’s National Guard beat them, imprisoned them and said Orc and Goblin prisoners are used for labor.”

Bradley Ingraham added. “Yes, when a small army of Orc and Goblin raiders tried to sack a small coastal town in southern Briastrin, the National Guard destroyed half of them, and other half is jailed. Some of the jailed ones are now doing labor and community services to pay for their crimes. Which is why I find it funny that someone or some people feel the need to treat those uncivilized savages and barbarians as someone special.”

Lura Bryrel, Lucia’s mother. Decided to join in. “Well that’s enough talk about politics for Lucia. Lucia, how about you go show Weland to your bedroom? To show him where he’ll sleep and all.”

“Sure thing mom!” Lucia said happily as she finished all of her remaining dessert, so did Weland as he gobbled up his remaining dessert. With that Lucia grabbed hold of Weland’s arm and dragged him to her bedroom.

“Hehehe, kids.” Bradley Ingraham chuckled to himself seeing his daughter pull Weland along.

Lucia and Weland arrived at the bedroom, with Lucia opening the door and letting go of Weland’s hand. “Welcome to my bedroom Weland. Looks nice right?”

“…Sure does Lucia. Where is that wind coming from though? I don’t see any of the windows open.” Weland asked.

“That’s the electric fan over there silly. It can make wind and help cool a place.” As Lucia explained the door of her bedroom opened wide again and came in the house’s maid carrying a small mattress and pillow.

>>52202193
“Flowers?” Another kid asks, a boy with some short sleeves. “But…but that’s a girl thing, isn’t it? Why would a knight want to learn about flowers?” Raina was not around to give the boy a death-glare to put him in his place as she was getting some herbs for her own garden, so it rests upon Yorrick to put him in his place.
“A girl thing? A flower does not care who raises it.” Yorrick espouses, “Whether it be my mistress or my father or me, that flower would still grow if one were to care for it. Would a flower grow any taller if this young girl were to tend to it?”
The boy looks at the knight confused. “Um…well, I don’t know how to grow flowers and stuff. My dad said that I’m not supposed to do that kinda stuff.”
The knight quietly tuts as he places a hand on the child’s head. “I am tasked with tending an entire mansion for my mistress every day. Sometimes it may be tiresome, sometimes I even question why I even keep going for no reason at all. However, I do so because I uphold the pride and honor of my family.”
“But what does that have to do with me?”
For a moment, the knight pauses in thought. He then raises his hand. “Because a man must be able to meet any challenge head-on. After all, anyone would like a man who does not fear a challenge just because he never faced it before. That is the pride of a man.”
The boy’s face turns a bit in an attempt to understand it. “Um… I don’t kinda get it, but it sounds cool, I guess. I don’t want people to think I can’t do anything.”
“Then you can learn how to plant.”
“I guess.” Yorrick’s gentle smile puts the boy at ease as his hair is ruffled. “Thanks, mister Yorrick.”
As the boy runs back to the crowd, Raina drags a small wagon with her filled with herbs. She asks the knight, “So what was all that about?”
“Merely guiding a child to a proper path is all, Madam Harriet,” he assures the detective. “Oh, and if there is enough room, would it be presumptuous of me to…?”

>tbc tomorrow...if this lasts.

>>52202488
“Miss Lucia, here’s the mattress and pillow that I was instructed to bring up to your room as instructed by your mother and father.”

“Thanks Darrel. Just set it down next to my bed.”

The maid placed the mattress down along with a pillow for Weland to use when sleeping. Then left with a bow towards Lucia.

"Well Lucia, its been an hour and a half since we've eaten dinner and desserts. What else do we do now? We're in your bedroom, so... What exactly do we do now? It's still very much early for bed as the night's still relatively young."

"Simple silly." Said Lucia as she went to a large closet and opened it to show another large assortment of toys, but also some books. The toys were not as big or numerous as in Lucia's playroom, but they were simple dolls, action figures and toy cars and animal figurines.

"We can still play till we get sleepy Weland! Or we could read some books I have here too."

"Are those bedtime story books Lucia?" Weland asked.

"Some of them, yes. But hey, we can still play. But if you wana read, that's fine. I'd wana hear you read some of these story books. You do have a nice reading voice Weland."

"...Hehehe, you think so?"

"Ofcourse I do Weland. Here, how 'bout you read. 'The Bard and the Dragoness?'"

"Very well then..."

Lucia got the story book she intended for Weland to read, along with a few plushy animals as an additional audience.

And so Weland and Lucia continued their night with Lucia making Weland read some story books as she wanted to hear him read them. Due to Weland having a nice sounding reading voice.

And so concludes this day and weekend for the foster child; Weland Faulkner, along with his sister Ethel, under the care of the Cedna Accord and them being assimilated and accustomed to the modernized lifestyle and culture of the Accord.

>End

>>52008889
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Alright, now I'm done for this story for this week. Now all I just need or want is some feedback and thoughts. So again, come on and hit me with the Criticism Stick.

What're your thoughts?

>>52202511
“It’s fine,” she answers without second thought. “I’m sure you want something to show to that ghost.” The way he smiled at her as he carried his shrubbery was concerning for such a knight. That smile seemed more at home for a boy who just aced a test or girl going to a ball for the first time.
“Is something the matter?” His head innocently tilts, pale hair reflecting more of the sunlight with radiant sheen.
“You’re excited. Too excited, even. Why is that?” Her harsh tone returns.
Yorrick replies, “Gardening is a great occupation of mine. I enjoy seeing all sorts of flowers.”
Raina scowls slightly before asking, “Have you ever thought of making a landscaping business?”
“No! Never!” Yorrick yelps in surprise. “I could never dedicate myself to another besides Mistress Yuliya!” This earns another scoff from the detective. That definitely sounded too innocent.

More stops were made after that and more daring tales were told of rival knights that his ancestors felled or fierce beasts of the afterlife, of the way death changes people and how he himself changed as he grew up. It was already the start of the afternoon when the tour route was over a few hours later. By this point the wagon was filled with not only plants but also pastries the kids thought his mistress would enjoy and books. However, the kids realized that they all had to leave, and thus did the crowd disperse all the way on the other end of the rustic city. As the two adults watched, they also noticed an old man staring dead at the knight with eyes of wonder.
Raina is the first to ask, “You want something?”
The old man mutters something at first too low to hear, but then he speaks up, “That blade…be that the Sentinel Blade of the Kupiercke family?”
“You know of this blade?” Yorrick asks as he presents the massive man-cleaving blade.
The old man swears in surprise. “It’s real! You’re the scion of the Kupiercke Bloodline!”
“I am,” Yorrick repeats. “What is the surprise about?”

>>52205933
“I am a historian!” He hastily salutes the two of them, “My name is Frederick Sattler! I specialize in tracking the timelines of legendary weapons just like that!”
Raina asks, “That weapon has a legacy?”
Yorrick and the old man simultaneously repeat, “Of course it does!” They glance at each other for a moment before Frederick relents. “This blade is one of two legendary blades wielded by my family. The second of them is the Unrelenting Blade.” He unsheathes a second blade fastened at his hip, one the size of an arming sword. “It is said that only the greatest warriors could wield both blades at once. So far, all I can accomplish is but a swing.”
“So it’s true! It can be done!”

The dialogue here meandered about on the topic of swords and swordplay, as Frederick asked an endless salvo of questions Yorrick was all too eager to answer. Raina, having no interest in weapons or the mastery of them, merely tuned them out as she began evaluating what she had seen.
It was disarming seeing how earnest that knight was about everything. For such a ruthless warrior, it seemed almost impossible to relate that to the cheery and eager man who was talking about war like it was a novel. For the observant detective, she had to wonder just what that Banshee was doing to make him so anxious to do something like this. This was in addition to the original questions of where she even left for and for how long.
It was difficult for Raina to fault herself for buying into having a manservant too easily with how convenient that horse was and considering the company he attracted, it was clear to see that he would always be welcome. Somewhere she found herself wondering if she could keep him for longer. She had to curse Marley for even bringing up the idea. At the same time however, she felt that just having him go back without a chance of ever coming out again to be a waste. If only there were a way…

"A Sore Loser"

The centrifuge whirred erratically, constantly going between off and on. It's sole vial, one containing a liquid resembling simple water at face value, was vibrating ever so slightly as the spinning started to stop. Upon stopping from it's cycle, a thickly gloved hand pressed forward to snatch the vial. "Pathogen F75, will you be the one?" the owner of the gloved hand muttered to himself. He walked over to a microscope outfitted with a hand crank. He opened a drawer, and besides it being somewhat stopped by that blasted moss, he retrieved a handful of slides for the microscope.

He took a sample of this 'Pathogen 75' via a dropper, and carefully distributed it between half of the slides specimens. This man then began to crank his homemade addition to the microscope, peering with an inquisitorial gaze into the lens of this instrument of science.

Damien Milton, the man currently in this remnant of a biological research center, wasn't always like this. He had been a college student on his way to a career in the scientific community. He basked in being a full on nerd, getting good grades, playing vidya games, and going to D&D sessions with some like minded friends of his. When he looks back, he has somewhat of a dark humored laugh, considering that his tabletop experience was both a blessing in the situation the world was in, and a curse for giving him false expectations of what would come about.

In his junior year, rifts started popping up all over the world. At first, nobody knew what was going on, and all the countries were at eachother's throats over it. While they battled and bickered over who did it, and if it violated the rules set forth by the U.N., they were left in the dark as to what was going behind the portals. Soon, various creatures came through, each resembling that of fantasy creatures. Some of them were intelligent, some of them not. The intelligent ones saw humans beneath them, or needing their 'Guidance'. (Cont. Later)

>>52207174

The ones that weren't intelligent saw the humans as another source of food, just as humans saw livestock. But in the end, none of it mattered. Humans who were unlucky enough to be in a region of the intelligent creatures? Subjugation to the creatures under the mask of 'guidance', often leading to disproportionate punishment from these new tyrants. Humans unlucky enough to be in a region of the unintelligent creatures? Better hope you smell and taste like shit, otherwise you are almost definitely going to be Sunday brunch for whatever beastie crosses your path. No region was safe, not even Antarctica. To add salt to the wound, the rifts closed behind the creatures, so no extra-dimensional safe haven was possible either.

Under these conditions, humans had 2 possible fates.

1 Die/suffer from the 'Law'
2 Die/suffer from the food chain

This once college student thought upon first hearing about these fantasy-esk creatures "Oh shit, monsters means magic, and that could really help out this world." Unfortunately, whatever magical essence had brought them here was not able to be utilized in anyway. In the end, he was lucky to have gone this long without being spotted by these extra-reality creatures. Maybe it was his monster manual somehow getting everything right about what the creatures were capable of, or maybe it was his years of being a basement dweller. Either way, the human race was taking a one way trip down the drain, and this nerd wasn't going to take it like a bitch.

He finished examining the effects of 'Pathogen 75' on the tissue of the animals and plants of Earth after years of study and plotting. His last effort on this planet would be one of spite. Humans were beyond fucked, along with everything else. If these fairytail assholes wanted Earth, they could have it. He snickers for the first time in a long time. "But they won't like what's left." He made huge vats of the concoction, and he released lab animals infected with it back to the wild.

>>52207564

In time, the infection would leave the planet a dry husk. With no animals, no plants, and no humans, the creatures would starve to death in agony. He wouldn't be around to see that though, so to speed things up, he pulled out his gun. He thought about his life before everything had went down, how he actually liked where his life was headed, how he wished it could have gone better between the humans and the creatures, how he was thin-

*Thud*


So, how did y'all like it? Please do give me some feedback. I haven't been to sleep yet, so I am sorry if the quality is a bit shit.

>>52202852
>So again, come on and hit me with the Criticism Stick.
Be careful what you wish for.

The first thing I noticed was the grammar and spelling errors. There were a lot of them. To give you credit, things did get slightly better as you went along - but seriously dude, you need to edit your writing more thoroughly before you post. I get the impression you often write everything out as quickly as you can and then post without reading it back.

As for the story... I don't hate it, but it seems a way too long for the narrative you're actually telling. The previous story you're following on from was okay - cute concept, cute characters - but nothing particularly gripping, and I didn't feel at all that it needed a follow up. Don't get me wrong, I think your setting is quite good; but your main strength is clearly the world building rather than the actual writing. Maybe if you could write dialogue better you could pull off a story that's character focused like this is (as opposed to having a more action packed story), but you can't (yet. Hopefully this thread will help you improve).

As for dialogue, it's not really an area in which I claim any expertise, but even I could tell it needs work. Hopefully someone else will be able to give you more specific pointers.

>>52206703
I'm enjoying this. Good work, anon. Is there more?

>>52207174
>>52207564
>>52207668
It's okay. On the one hand, I like the concept. On the other hand, it's so weighted towards exposition that it feels like you're telling us about an idea you've had for a story, rather than the story itself.

>Want to write something.
>Spend like thirty minutes hammering on two sentences.
Life is hell, friends.

>>52216906
The only cure is writing more. And reading more.

Seriously: writing is a craft, more than anything else. Takes hundreds of hours of practice. Some people are more self-conscious and thus have bigger problems bridging the initial gap, some people aren't self-conscious so they don't care that what they are writing may not even make sense, but anyone who writes regularly and creates anything actually readable has hundreds of hours of writing under their belt.

There is a purely mechanical aspect to writing: it's the process of coordinating your ideas (imagination) with your words (your linguistic skills) and then with your fingers (the act of typing), and if any of these three stages gets "de-synced" with the remaining ones, you'll come to a screetching halt.
And the ONLY cure for that is to write more. Even if it's extremely painful and slow at first. That is just sad reality of writing.

>>52215419

That is alright. As I said, I wrote that on the spurn of the moment while I hadn't been to sleep. I usually have ideas like this, and write them out when I am not entirely there, then I edit and adjust them when I am in a better state of mind. Thanks for your feedback, I appreciate it.

>>52206703
Afternoon had just about rolled its way through by the time Yorrick and Frederick had finally ended their conversation on weaponry, the historian insisting that he come by one day to demonstrate his family’s unique swordfighting style. Yorrick’s spirits remained high the whole time, which impressed upon the detective the need to ask about the relationship.
“You seemed quite excited there,” she remarks.
He hastily apologizes, “Your forgiveness if I had taken so long with the conversation. I am surprised that tales of my family’s skills had spread to the land of the living.”
Raina shrugs, the evening sun slowly sinking behind her. “No need. I just find it all…rather depressing, actually. Here you are, finally able to pursue something of your own leisure, and come the next day you’ll just be shackled back up, yearning for that single moment of happiness for the rest of your life.”
The knight eyes her warily, as if he were wounded by what she said. “I do not know what you imply, but I can assure you that Mistress Yuliya is not that cruel to me.”
“And yet you have never left that manse until this morning.”
“I dislike the tone you are taking with me.” His eyes leveled dead at the detective’s, staring into them with a knight’s resolve. “You presume much about my station.”
The stare did little to shake her. “Given the opportunity, would you ask your mistress for another opportunity of the sort to appear again?”
“As much as I desire such a thing, to be able to meet with those people again, my duty…is to her side.” His sigh is pained, as if he was already regretting what he was saying.
Raina found an angle. “And that proves it. You don’t want to lose out on that chance again. If you could, you would leave for another day, wouldn’t you?”
Yorrick’s gaze wavers. “I…can only wish to have the strength of will to resist such a temptation. It has been so long since I had someone to call a friend.”

>>52218162
“I’m sure you can negotiate something with her. You’re her most dedicated companion, I know she values you more than you think. Just let her know how you feel.”
An armored hand lightly places itself on her shoulder. “Your encouragement heartens me, Madam Harriet. Now, you wished to take me somewhere else?”
“In fact, there is.”

That last stop was the Estate Crimsone, the enigmatic and decrepit mansion that towered over the fey forests. The haze surrounding it reeked with the stench of blood and many of the creatures in the forests told tales of those who were subjugated by the cruel vampiric master of the Estate. Most also feared the other inhabitants, the ruthless killer servant, the ancient dragon who served as a gate guard, and the arcane master among them.
However, that was merely an image. Raina and Yorrick notice this truth swiftly in the darkening forest as they find the relatively small dragon-folk who scoped them out from the front gate. Wings swiftly sprout from her back, kicking up dirt and sending her forward with a leap.
“My goodness, you’re out late!” The red-headed dragon remarked the new guests. “Miss Harriet, what brings you out here?”
Raina gestures in hopes of having Yorrick speak up, but realizing what this meant instead makes him very conscious and hesitates to answer. She snarls in disappointment, “Look, we’re here to see your butler. Is he busy?”
“Sasha? Why do you wanna see such a stiff guy like him?” She asks in a whimsical tone.
Yorrick finally speaks up, “We were in the area and…well, I did promise to see him again when I could and…”
Before he could finish his statement, another person instantly appears in their midst, a prim butler in proper uniform, fringed platinum blond hair, and a pocket watch in hand. His tone is accusing, “Meiraga, what could it possibly be that…” His green eyes turn to notice Yorrick’s presence. “Sir…Yorrick of Kupiercke, yes? I am surprised to see you present.”

>>52211233
Yeah, Manny Pardo's "Declerationf of Surrendependance" story arc or setting is pretty nice. Correct me if I'm wrong but I'm guessing or thinking the Cedna Accord is either the Thalmor, but in the WW1-era judging by the setting.

Or is the European Union, but composed of tech-savvy and industrial humans and elves. Honestly I think the Cedna Accord is just like the EU:

>member states have to cede some of their sovereignty for some economic benefit
>...benefits of which can no longer offset the problems it has introduced.

Also it really a political thing for the characters: Ethel and Weland Faulkner to be taken in as fancy foster kids because their mom who was empress was killed? Is there a formal procedure for such a thing?

>>52218737
Yorrick kneels. “I am equally as humbled, Mister Sasha.”
Sasha’s eyes also detect the brunette detective as well. “And Miss Harriet. To what do I owe this distinct honor of a late-night visit?”
Raina points to her temporary servant. “First time out. Besides, we were in the area.”
“We had a promise to meet again, yes?” Yorrick reminded him.
“We did, but unfortunately, you came at an improper time,” the butler replies. “We were just about to have supper.”
“My apologies for interrupting you.”
Sasha sighs. “Stop being such a suck-up. It’s not like I said you weren’t welcome to visit. Besides, it already looks like you’ve changed some.” The response catches the visitor’s attention. “If you drop by earlier in the day, I can most certainly accommodate the two of you.”
“I would be honored by such hospitality!” The excitement in Yorrick’s voice is barely contained.
Raina smirks at the almost lovestruck feeling. “Does sound awfully nice of you.”
“It’s not often one finds an equal on the field,” remarks Sasha.
The knight’s face reddens some more. “Th-that is very kind of you to say.”
The detective smirks at this. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Well, I don’t want to hold you up any longer. We’ll see if I can bring this one along to visit again,” the detective already begins picking up her knight. He nods hastily in agreement.
The butler bows. “I will be looking forward to that day then.”

The last of the sun faded from the sky by the time the two of them returned to the Harriet Estate to find two visitors, one a ghost in tattered royal clothing and one wearing weirdly anachronistic clothing behind a cloak of eyes. Raina turns to gauge Yorrick’s expression of anticipation and turns to find the second guest already gone.
“Trying to stir news up already, are we?” a voice reverberates in Raina’s mind.

>Here's to hoping I can finish this by the time I return tonight.

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Huh...not sure what to do now. I'd normally be creating a new thread about now, but I guess we might as well wait for this one to the bump limit first.

Trouble with this point in the thread is that no one wants to post any stories because it'll 404 soon

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>>52228957
that's why now's a good time to offer feedback. (Unfortunately I don't have time to do any now, but hopefully I'll be back later)

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Bumping as I have something I am way overdue on finishing up her for you all...

>>52223273
She needn’t ask who it was that just vanished, she knew – it was the Walker Between Worlds, The Saint Somewhere in Time, the living urban legend and the embodiment of omnipresence. All the detective did was grin. It seems like she was going to be in for something special.
Yorrick, though, did not notice the Walker’s brief presence. All he could focus on was his mistress’ presence. He kneels immediately.
“Mistress Yuliya!” He proclaims loudly, “You have returned!”
“Hi, Yorrick!” The Banshee greets in a flirtatious manner. “You have fun with Miss Harriet?”
“Your knight/manservant/attack dog has been a very handy guest,” mentions the detective. “However, I feel that the man in question has some words of his own to say.” She steps aside to let Yorrick speak, but he is immobilized by shock. He remains rooted where he is despite all the prodding by both masters. Eventually, Raina reminds him, “Don’t hesitate. This might be your only chance to say it.”
“Mistress Yuliya,” he finally cracks. “I have been a faithful, dedicated servant to you and the estate since I was born, as have my father and his father before him.” The ghastly master nodded. “Until…very recently, I have been satisfied with as much. After what had transpired, I have come to discover certain new…interests.” His tone slows down the further he goes, as if he was doubting his own words. “Interests that might conflict with my service to you. Milady, I do not wish to betray you, but I also find myself wishing to return here for more than just one day. Please, forgive me for this presumption.”
Yuliya’s face remains the strange serenity that it has been for the whole time. She places one sleeve upon her lips, which looses a chilling giggle. That hand then reaches on Yorrick’s head, slowly caressing his head and the feathered charm on his head. “Yorrick…dear, sweet little Yorrick…” His head raises. “It is true, I have seen you become the fine young man you are.”

>>52225312
Is this the first time this has happened?

>>52233317
“Milady?”
“I had felt it a bit saddening how perfectly content your father was remaining with me his whole life,” admits Yuliya with no change in tempo. “I had offered him a day as well, just like you. He spent the whole day just meditating on the front gates.” This earns a raised eyebrow from the detective. “To know that you could find some sort of happiness in this world, like any other human… I find myself happy more than anything.”
“Milady…”
She smiles. “If what you want is to become more of the human you are, then I will happily provide for you!” She raises Yorrick up to his feet before embracing her noble knight. “You are both a valued companion and a beloved son to me. I do not expect you to be anything more than what you are.” The weight of the revelation leaves her knight speechless for a long time, which amuses the detective as she begins smoking her pipe.
“Milady…Milady Yuliya…” His senses get back slowly. “You are too kind…” He finally breaks away from his mistress. “Madam Raina Harriet.” Yorrick bows in front of his guide, “I owe you a great debt of gratitude. You have opened my eyes to something I have not known in a long time.”
Raina answers, “No need for thanks. I…kind of enjoyed having you around too. Wouldn’t mind if you dropped by again.”
“I will happily lend you a hand if you wish.”
She scoffs. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

That night, Raina Harriet waited in her estate, waiting for something to happen, for someone to arrive. All she felt was an almost alien silence. When it was clear that it was too late for anyone to arrive, she decided to retire for the night. She also resolved to start learning about swords for the next time he arrived.

>And finally, it ends.