Storythread

Time for another Storythread

If you have Veeky Forums related stories to post, post them here, and hopefully some kind user will give you feedback (or at least acknowledge that someone did actually read it, which let's face it is what writefags really want).

If you don't have a story ready then I and other anons will be posting pictures throughout the thread for you to test your writing skills on. This is, more or less, a world-building and character-building exercise: two vital skills for playing roleplaying games. If you don't have any pics to post, you could try posting an idea for a setting or a character, and maybe someone will be willing to write a story using it. It's also an exercise in writing though, where writefags can try out their material and gain inspiration, so if you just want to talk about world-building save it for the world-building threads.

Remember that writefags love to have feedback on their work. Writing takes a long time, especially stories that go over several posts, and it can be really depressing when no one even seems to read it (and the writer won't know you read it unless you leave a comment).

And since writing takes a long time remember to keep the thread bumped. Pics are good, feedback is better.

last week's thread can still be found in the catalogue here if you have any comments or anything about the stories there
And finally, don't forget to check out past stories on our wiki page:
1d4chan.org/wiki/Storythread

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Perhaps the most intoxicating feeling in a tank is the feeling of power. A leman russ is not the fastest vehicle to grace the battlefield in all the years the imperium has fought across the galaxy. The chimera assault vehicle is much faster, by the virtue of it being a infantry troop transport. The valkyrie is a bird of war and flies like one, and the more exotic enemies of the imperium. be they the decadent eldar or the fledgling tau are employ vehicles that skirt the line between armored vehicles and flyers.

The humble leman russ moves in a speed that is much lower than theirs, even when their speed governors are removed, it trundles along at a pace that would make your valkyrie pilot smile. However, it makes up for it's pace in it's reliability and firepower.

Many a cultist horde or greenskin assault has been cut down under the armored treads of leman russ tanks that have fought for days with promethium of questionable quality and still have had enough protection that their crews have come out with merely a few bruises, which cannot be said for the enemies that they face.

Anlec preferred to ride with his head and torso out of the hatch, like they showed in propaganda picts. There was a time when he was as impetuous as a Black templar, riding Smart Shelly as though he was a knight from the mythical past of Terra. His wounds and experience had taught him that this was not a good idea in the midst of combat, and the hatch existed for a reason, but he still enjoyed the wind rustling softly in his hair and the quiet of the battlefield replaced by the roar of the promethium fueled engines. They were advancing up the causeway without meeting any patrols. So far the eldar's intel hadn't let them down. The chaos forces in the area were garrisoned inside the city and brutalizing it's population, while a small picket of cultists protected the facility itself.

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The attack plan was three pronged. The tanks would advance through a narrow strip of road in single file, supported by the infantry, and using their superior firepower blast a hole through the cultist picket. The mechanized forces would exploit this breakthrough and secure the facility and destroy the plasma generators powering it. The eldar would secure the objective and then the combined force would retreat the way they came. Nearly half the company would help the tanks secure the entrance of the facility and repel any attempts by the enemy to break reinforce the garrison.

A neat and effective plan that would work just fine. Of course, that was the deal with plans, they were always simple and elegant, until they broke down.

This was in danger of happening even before it started. For once, the primary approach to the facility was supposed to be a valley that would conceal their approach. This is what he had been briefed by.intelligence, and that is what his map said.

What he saw was something completely different. The pathway was not a valley. It was a long and narrow causeway that would make any mechanized movement be visible for miles around. Advancing single file upon it would take up precious amounts of time and minimize their firepower while allowing the enemy to pick them off at will. Anlec debated calling off the attack. There was no conventional way they could assault the picket without raising alarm. They would be trapped from the reinforcements coming from the city and an organized resistance from the garrison at the facility.

This type of indecision.chafed him, and he nearly gave the order to assault it head on, before better sense prevailed.

"What is the matter commander?"
He knew the voice, and to his alarm, his heart began to beat faster when he heard the musical tone of the voice.

There she was, approaching with the autarch and farseer. He felt his face begin to flush and quickly turned away.

"Over there. It appears our intel is faulty. We can't risk an all out assault. It would be suicidal. We would be caught like an squig in a barrel."

The autarch and the farseer stood at a respectable distance from him as they took stock of the situation. Not so the third eldar. She sidled up way too close to him, and raised a slender hand to shade her eyes. Anlec noticed that her nails were immaculate. Many a hive city princess would have killed for nails like those.

He was sure she saw him seeing her standing next to him, and pouted a little.

"It would seem you are right, colonel. A frontal assault would be very unwise. Oh, whatever shall we do." She said the last sentence in a singsong voice that sounded beautiful, but made Anlec feel like he was becoming the butt of an elaborate practical joke.

The autarch barked something and what seemed like a squad of eldar warriors appeared with blades in hand. Anlec noticed that each one of them was female. Their tightly fitting armor and long flowing hair was proof enough. The eldar woman standing next to him walked up and joined them.

He was struck by their demeanour. They were not soldiers who were tensed and waiting for combat. They had the easy grace of a troupe of dancers that were about to put on a show they had long perfected.

In a few heartbeats they were among the scrub and were moving incredibly quickly towards the picket line. Anlec didn't see any screams, shouts or gunfire. After a few minutes, the farseer simply said, " They have taken the objective, colonel. You can order your men to start moving."

"I will be the judge of that."

Having a bionic eye meant that Anlec didn't need binoculars any more. He zoomed in on the picket line and was greeted by the eldar warriors walking along the road, and acting as if they were bored. One of them looked a little bit familiar. She was looking at him directly inthe eye from an incredible distance, and seemed to blow a kiss.

"Your orders sir?" Lupio asked, the crackling static of the radio bringing him back to his body.

"Prepare the column. They have secured the picket fence. We are moving in."

The static crackle was succeeded by a short pause and then Lupio replied, "Roger that sir, we are moving out to engage."

"No."

"Sorry sir?"

"No need to engage. They have cleared out the picket fence. Brief the men to establish a perimeter."

Another pause preceeded by a burst of static.

"Are you sure sir?"

"As sure as I ever am Lupio. Give. The, Order"

"Yes sir."

As the engines roared into life and the column began advancing forward, Anlec wished for the first time in a long while that the engines would be quieter.

This mission was turning out to extraordinary in more ways than one.

guys, if anyone is reading please let me know. I am heading off to bed.

I am.
Make sure to finish sometime.

I'm reading. Good on you for continuing on from the last thread

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You should probs use a temporary trip so people can better identify you

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It took you idiots long enough.

Fine, get your swords up. Of course, I'm a witch, I'm legally sanctioned. Go ahead, take a moment to stare in horror once you realize that I have authority by the magister to be here. It's only happened the last fifty times some dumb mundane like you see me. You wonder why I look down on you? It's because you've never tried to look beyond your own fat noses.

But enough about shaming you.
So you see this? That's right, I was doing a witch burning. Ironic? Are you idiots even paying attention? Do you not notice that the man's innards are transforming into a bunch of worms?

Good, now you notice it.
Do you know what those are? No, of course you don't, you're a bunch of slackjawed idiots who couldn't even tell apart a werewolf from a normal wolf. See, if those worms get out of that fire, they'll find another host. If they climb into someone's mouth, then they're dead meat. "So what"? So get these people out of this thing, you morons! If it has no prey, it'll wither and die, which means you need to get clear too.
Oh, your concern is sweet, if I weren't actually competent and haven't already prepared a spell to turn my innards to literal fire if it tried that trick.

What're you looking at? Get going! Every second you take is another second it might realize how it'll get out of this fire and eat someone, so get these people out! If anything happened to them, I know they'll use it against me, and if anything happened to you, i can probably say that you died protecting me, though I can't tell if that'll work.
You idiots seem to as a lot of questions. I don't care about what happens to me. I can take a lot more abuse than you think, this won't do much to me. Satisfied? Good. You still have a buffet here to empty out. Of course, I mean the people! I swear! Just get that done and you can leave once you're done! Whatever keeps you quiet!

Very nice and with trips, too.

...For anyone's info, this is an IG and a commissar cleaning a Leopard 2A6/2A7 battle tank.

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I'm going to amuse myself with writing isekai

But I've always found isekai's biggest failing is in setting the stage, the ridiculous, cliche ridden and jarring transition from reality to fantasy.

Can I bypass this with en media res? If I just start with him in the fantasy world, already knowing the heroine, if I do that will everything work better?

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'Alright you whoresons, come get some. You want me, you're gonna have to fight for me.'

Deep in the Mistwoods, the Dark Kin made their lair. Far away from the prying eyes of civilisation. Sheltered from the searing touch of sunlight by the twisted boughs and branches of the wild forest, wreathed in mists and shadows never to be dispelled by the caress of a sunbeam. Men whispered of the terrors that slunk between the ancient trunks and crawled and slithered softly through the cold and silent night. Nachtwolfen, Tar-snakes, Orichae and Timber-witches - and worse. And the Dark Ones, who guarded their realm jealously. Only a fool would venture into the Mistwoods.

Or an adventurer.

Ilana of the Ruby Brotherhood - guild of the foremost fire mages in the Westlands - had heard the same stories about the Mistwoods as everyone else. But to a young mage with a burning curiosity and a name to make for herself, they were less a warning and more an invitation. She had braved the dungeons of Hammer's Rock, and survived the dream mould and the strangleworms to bring the crystal aegis of Ghand back to the Brotherhood's keep. She had ridden hard across the Blood Plains, horse kicking up the red dust in a cloud that looked like fire in the sunset's light, chasing the defiler Jian-Kul after he'd broken into the Brotherhood's sanctum, and hadn't stopped until his blood was mixed with the reddish dirt streaked across her face.

True, Ilana hadn't done these feats alone, nor any of her other accomplishments. But all the more reason for her to enter the Mistwoods by herself, if she wanted her name to be famed in the guild. The forest was dangerous, of course, but that was the point. Everyone knew the stories about the Mistwoods, so no one would doubt her bravery or her talent when she emerged from them victorious. Then there would be an extra story about the Mistwoods to go around.

In fact, she already knew one more story about the Mistwoods than everyone else. Deep in the archives of the Ruby Brotherhood she had found references to a treasure of the Dark Kin, a scroll that contained ancient spells long lost to the outside world. The exact nature of these magics was not specified by the dusty tome that she'd pulled from the shadowy recesses of the library - only that they were powerful and unique. Enchanted weapons and precious stones were all very well, but nothing got a wizard salivating like new spells. Even minor unknown magic would cause a stir of interest around the mage who discovered it. If the archive was right about the power of the Dark Kin's scroll, then her place at the forefront of the Ruby Brotherhood would be assured.

And there was no way she was going to share the glory.

As it turned out, getting in was the easy part. She had crept through the perpetual twilight of the forest ever vigilant for the sign of red eyes watching from the darkness. But apparently the Dark Ones weren't expecting visitors; she reached their village without encountering any sentries. She had encountered a tar-snake at one point, which oozed it's way out of a tree trunk in the belief that she might make an easy meal. It was sorely disappointed. Although the oily substance coating the serpent had protected it directly from the fireballs Ilana threw at it, much to her consternation, the unexpected light had blinded and disoriented the creature long enough for her to get close enough to end it with her sword. But that was the extent of the Mistwoods' reaction to her presence, and as Ilana stood at the edge of the Dark Kin's village, assessing her target, she was wondering whether the forest's reputation was all it was made out to be.

Still, no reason not to be cautious. Ilana had surveyed the ragged wooden huts and birch-bark tents of the Dark Kin's village for hours before she made her move, watching for the trace flickers of movement that betrayed signs of the inhabitants going about their daily business. The denizens of the black heart of the forest were almost invisible in the eternal gloom, and it had taken Ilana a long time before she was confident that she understood their movements enough to begin her infiltration.

The activity in the village - such as it was, for the Dark Kin were so silent and so sedentary that a casual observer might mistake the place as uninhabited - seemed to be concentrated on the south side of the village, around a series of small lakes and pools, and in the trees to the south east. Which was perfect for Ilana, because she was fairly sure her target was the structure on the north side of the village. It was the largest building in the village by far, a knot of planks and logs wrapped around a vast, ancient oak like a beehive. A temple, perhaps. If the scroll was anywhere, it would be there.

The young firemage had made her way stealthily around the edge of the village towards the north side, to the back of the presumed temple. There didn't seem to be any back doors or convenient windows for her to use to slip inside. So she had edged her way around the side of the building towards the front doors, ever expecting guards to spring from the shadows. There was nothing, however. Only the mists. She had walked right up the steps to the main doors without attracting any attention, and found them unlocked and unguarded. Once inside she had started to wonder if there could really be treasure within, given the complete lack of security. But she had pressed forward nonetheless, and thanked whatever gods were watching that she'd got this far.

The temple didn't look particularly large on the outside, but the interior was a confusing warren of corridors and rooms, haphazardly placed as if the designer had had no prior training in architecture, or indeed basic geometry. Corridors branched of at random, or widened out into rooms, or a series of rooms, and then back to corridors again, all seemingly without logic. And it was pitch black - for the first time since entering the forest Ilana was forced to use a flame to light her way. Just a small one, resting in the palm of her hand. The shadows it cast made for unnerving companions as she explored deeper into the structure.

The scroll rested upon an altar. There had been other interesting artefacts that Ilana had passed by along the way - a shell from some chitinous creature that must have been the size of a horse, strings of what looked like tiny sapphires and emeralds arranged to form some occult symbol, a fountain that seemed to fall upwards into a drain in the ceiling. Ilana had ignored these; they weren't what she had come here for. She had known she'd found what she was looking for as soon as she saw it - the altar stood in the largest room she had yet found, at the end of the large corridor she had more or less followed since entering the temple. And when she lay eyes upon the scroll, the runes shifted and twisted as she tried to read them. The deciphering could be done later, however. She had put the scroll on a leather mat and rolled it up tightly, then secured it across her back. The she turned and began to retrace her steps through the empty stygian darkness of the temple.

That was when things had started to go wrong.

She had nearly reached the main doors of the temple when she almost tripped over the Dark One sitting in the middle of one of the rooms. It was just sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, either meditating or sleeping, when she had blundered into the room in her rush to get to the exit and almost walked into it. There didn't seem to be any obvious reason for what it was doing or why it was in that particular room. She recoiled from the motionless form, then beady red eyes suddenly appeared in the darkness in front of her.

The Dark One sprang to its feet, but before it could leap at her she pulsed her guide-light, momentarily making it as bright as sunlight. There was a shriek, and before it could recover Ilana summoned up a fireball and threw it in the thing's face. The Dark One stumbled back, and Ilana dodged past it making for the opposite doorway, jamming her sword into the abdomen of the hulking thing as she passed. She didn't wait to see if she had put it down for good, just ran. She didn't hear any footsteps of pursuit behind her.

She was at the main doors in a moment, and out and down the steps and into the forest. For a moment she'd thought she might have got away clean - it might take a while before another of the Dark Kin found the body she'd left in the temple. But then she heard the low, keening wail rise from the village behind her, it's unsettling harmonics echoing off the tree trunks as if it was coming from every direction at once. She ran, and ran hard, barely keeping her footing as she skipped over the tree roots and fallen trunks that littered the forest floor. After the initial wail stopped the forest fell silent again, deathly calm. All she could hear was the patter of her muffled leather boots on the ground, and her short, sharp breaths. All she could see was the trees and the mists. But she knew that they were after her.

She wondered how fast they were. As fast as her? They were big, hulking creatures. She ducked under a low branch and ran along a fallen tree to avoid a knot of thornwood, barely keeping her footing on the mossy surface. Perhaps they would have trouble matching her pace in the dense foliage of the Mistwoods. But out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of movement, to her left, and she didn't think it was just the swaying of a branch, or the flutter of a startled bird. The first rule of running away from something was to always keep your eyes on what you were stepping on, but nevertheless she risked a glance to her side.

Shadows moved through the forest, half-a-hundred feet to her left, running parallel to her through the trees. Large shadows, shadows with the rough shape of a man, yet too big, too bulky, and too fast for a human. They were having no trouble moving through the dark, arboreal labyrinth of their home. Ilana looked to her right - first barely saving herself from tumbling head-first into the cavity left by an uprooted tree - and again saw dark forms moving through the woods. They were starting to outpace her. She didn't need to look behind her to know that there were pursuers there as well, nor did she need to be clairvoyant to know what would happen when the runners alongside her got ahead of her - they would turn inwards, and the noose would close around her.

She redoubled her effort, pushing herself harder than she ever had before. But she just wasn't fast enough. She could see that several of the Dark Ones to her sides had a distinct lead on her now. She wasn't going to be able to outrun them.

Which meant that if she was going to get out of this, she was going to have to fight. She stopped, sharply. There was no point in exhausting herself further, not when she needed her strength for the combat to come. The comforting weight of the wrapped up scroll lay on her back - if she could get out of this, she was sure the secrets it contained would be worth the effort. She drew her sword and readied a fireball in her other hand. One of her, against many of the monsters. Not good odds, it would seem, but she was a wizard of the Ruby brotherhood. The battle skills of a fully-fledged fire mage were not to be underestimated. She had dispatched the Dark One back in the temple easily enough - perhaps her pursuers would return to their village disappointed after all. Or not return at all.

She looked around herself, but saw nothing except the creeping mists coiling over the forest floor. 'Come out and face me!' she cried in frustration, and her shout cut through the silence rising up into the canopy of the trees, provoking some nearby bird to flight. But the sudden flurry of wingbeats was the only response she got. Ilana almost started to believe that the Dark Ones had decided not to risk feeling the point of her sword, or the burning touch of her magic. Maybe her obvious willingness to fight had scared them off.

And then she saw them. The red eyes in the darkness. And with them, the shadowy forms advancing towards her through the trees. Slow, deliberate. They weren't hurrying - they knew they had her trapped.

They were all around her.

And that is how Ilana of the Ruby Brotherhood found herself in this rather precarious position. 'Alright you whoresons, come get some. You want me, you're gonna have to fight for me.' she shouted, the tip of her sword dancing in front of her. 'Who wants to be the first, eh? Doesn't matter, I've got enough for all of you.' The Dark Kin didn't seem to be in much of a mood for pre-fight banter, however. They just stood there. Looming. In another moment or two one of them would find the courage to make a lunge for her. They didn't carry weapons. They wouldn't need weapons. Not if one of them got one of those big, meaty hands around her neck.

Ilana drew back her hand, ready to throw her fireball. Then the Dark One to her right leaped at her, soundlessly. Without bothering to turn, Ilana ducked and rolled forward, and instead of throwing the fireball pulsed a burst of energy into it so it lit up in a flare of white light. As it had done back in the temple this trick temporarily blinded her attackers, and she felt the Dark One who had jumped at her stumble past behind her. But it also affected her vision, leaving her in no position to capitalise on her enemies' vulnerability. After a few seconds, however, the blotches started to fade and she was able to see well enough to make her attack.

The Dark One directly in front of her was still reeling from the unexpected burst of light, and she went in low with her sword, aiming for it's leg in an attempt to cripple it. The Dark One must have sensed her approach, though, for it dodged backwards - she should have realised that those dwelling in the eternal night of the forest wouldn't rely solely on sight. She missed, but as she come forward the Dark One made a grab for her. It was clumsily done though - evidently they used those beady red eyes for something - and she evaded it easily, slashing the creature across the hand with her sword as she did so.

It shrieked with pain. But Ilana didn't have time to draw any satisfaction from this, for the other Dark Ones had recovered from her flare and were advancing on her. She drew up another fireball, feeling the power flow to her fingertips as she sketched the sign to direct the magical energy welling up within her, and hurled it at the closest attacker. But the Dark One ducked under it, letting it sail harmlessly over its head to impact against a tree.

Frustrated, Ilana snatched one of the two glass globes from her belt and threw it at the feet of the oncoming Dark Ones, turning away as she did so and drawing her hood as far down as possible. She felt the sudden burst of heat, and the rain of burning liquid splattering against her garments - harmlessly, for obviously as a fire mage all her clothes were fireproof. The Dark Ones were less fortunate - the liquid stuck to anything it landed on, and three of Ilana's attackers were now rolling in agony on the ground, trying futilely to beat out flames that would probably burn down to the bone.

There were more, however, and they weren't discouraged by what had happened to their companions. Two of them came at her, dancing forward with surprising grace for such large creatures. They were wary of her now, though, and instead of lunging head on they probed and feinted. Ilana kept them at bay with the point of her sword, and each time the Dark Ones' hands darted towards her they only narrowly escaped losing a few fingers. She could feel two others, or more, circling behind her, getting ready to pounce. Then one of the Dark Ones in front of her turned a feint into a full-on lunge, and Ilana took the opportunity. Instead of backing away from the attack she came forward. The Dark One grabbed for her, but it obviously wasn't expecting what happened next. Ilana rushed straight at it, dropped, and skidded past it letting its arm pass narrowly over her head.

Now holding her sword in a reverse grip she thrust it behind her, into the lower back of her attacker. It wasn't the best angle, but she felt it sink a finger's length or more into the Dark One's flesh nevertheless. The creature screeched and stumbled away, clutching its side, and Ilana sprang to her feet ready to meet the next challenger.

There were four of them left standing, including the one whose hand she'd injured. They spread out, obviously wary of getting caught in another blast from her fire-globes. Ilana summoned more fire to her hand, but this time it wouldn't be a fireball. She got ready to make a jet of flame that would stream from her hand like water from a hose. It would be less concentrated fire than a fireball, but she'd be able to hit all of them, and even if it didn't kill them it would certainly slow them down. She splayed her fingers, intending to make the widest jet possible.

Then a huge hand closed around her ankle and jerked her off her feet. Ilana landed face-first on the ground and felt her sword go flying out of her grasp. Instinctively, she let out a burst of flame - unprepared and unfocused - towards whatever had grabbed her, and heard a screech of pain, and the grip loosed slightly. Spitting out dead leaves, Ilana managed to raise her head and look down at her feet. The horribly burned face a Dark One who'd been caught by the fire-globe looked back at her, red eyes narrowed with determination. These things were tough - with the burns it had suffered it shouldn't be alive, much less have been able to drag itself over to her. She began to draw another fireball, intending to blast the wretched thing off her.

Then it occurred to her that the four still standing were probably her more pressing concern. Looking down at the Dark One at her feet, she had just enough time to say 'Oh fuck y...' before something hit her head and everything went black.

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When Ilana woke, she was cold. And then she realised that she was cold because she was completely naked. There was a throbbing pain localised at the back of her skull. Groggily, she opened her eyes, which didn't help much because apparently it was night time. No, this was not the dark of ordinary night - she was still in the everlasting twilight of the Mistwoods. Memories started coming back - this was not a good place to be, and certainly not a good place to be naked. She tried to sit up.

She couldn't, because she was tied down. In fact, not only was she tied to whatever she was laying on, arms and legs completely immobilised, her hands were wrapped up as well. No chance of shaping magic to her will if she couldn't use her fingers. She desperately tried to think of a spell she could verbalise, but they were long and tricky to remember - and if you didn't remember them perfectly, syllable for syllable, you stood more chance of blowing your own head off than getting any useful result. In her still somewhat befuddled state it wouldn't be worth the risk, even if she could remember an appropriate spell, which she couldn't. All combat magic - which comprised the vast bulk of her arcane knowledge - relied on channelled power and quick gestures, rather than the long and intricate weaving of the ether formed by a verbal enchantment. So, she was stripped of all her gear and her magic was useless to her - what was left?

'Hello? Anyone there?' she tried to look around, but her field of view was fairly limited. Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness. She could see trees, and not much else. Then she was aware of movement behind her, and several Dark Ones stalked silently into her field of vision. Ilana didn't know what the Dark Kin did to their captives, but she'd bet it wasn't anything pleasant. 'Umm... hey, maybe we can talk about this? We could make some kind of deal - I'm sure my guild would be willing to ransom me.' It was worth a try, possibly.

The Dark Ones maintained their impassive silence. In point of fact, Ilana didn't even know that they could speak, or understand language. Still. 'My guild has a lot of treasure. Huge amounts of treasure. They'd give you some if you let me go.' Not particularly subtle, as negotiating ploys went, but somehow Ilana didn't think the Dark Ones were much for nuance. Either way, they didn't seem to be particularly interested in the prospect of treasure. Ignoring Ilana's words, they gathered around her.

Then she was lifted up into the air. She was obviously tied to some kind of wooden stretcher. Or bier. She started to move, carried along above the heads of the Dark Ones. Left with no other options, she started trying to free her hands, but her bonds were securely fastened and it seemed unlikely that any amount of struggling would get her free. The Dark Ones were taking her through their village - she could see the tops of the huts as she bobbed along between them. And she became aware that she was being watched, by many of the Dark Ones who lined the route of her procession. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. She was completely naked, being carried towards ... well, she could only imagine. And unfortunately, she did, despite insistently telling her brain to do something else. Disembowelment, maybe. Or dismemberment. Maybe they would feed her to some beast of the Mistwoods. A pit full of tar-snakes, maybe?

Maybe they were the sort to go in for ironic punishments. She wondered if she could survive being burnt at the stake. On the one hand, although not completely fireproof, after years of imbuing herself with counterspells to protect her from her own magic she was fairly fire resistant. If the fire burned through her bonds before it killed her then the Dark Kin would be in for a nasty surprise. On the other hand, the smoke would probably suffocate her long before she was in a position to free herself.

Maybe they weren't going to execute her. Maybe it would just be torture. She really should think about something else, but the silent crowd of red eyes watching her as she was carried along was really starting to unnerve her. She felt exposed. Which was hardly surprising; her naked breasts jiggled every time the stretcher bounced beneath her. Her ankles were bound to the rim of the stretcher, as were her wrists, so her legs were apart and the crowd ahead of her had a perfect view of her slit, right at eye-level.

Ilana didn't have too many hang-ups about modesty - when you're on the road a lot you can't be too particular about it - but having a bunch of monsters staring at her genitals was way beyond what she was comfortable with. Was she naked for a reason, other than removing her weapons? She shuddered to think. The sort of Loremasters who wrote ethnographs had a lot to say about the depraved rites of the primitive human and semi-human tribes that lived in the remote corners of the world. As an adventurer who had yet to meet any orgiastic cults in her travels she had always put these stories down to a serious need on the part of the Loremasters to get out of their libraries more, but right now some of the more lurid descriptions were inserting themselves into her train of thought.

The cluster of Dark Ones watching her as she was carried along seemed to thin out. Then Ilana heard splashing, and realised that she was being carried into the lake, the one that she'd seen on the south side of the village. Suddenly the world spun as she was rotated upright. Cool water rose up her legs until it reached her hips. The two Dark Ones still holding the stretcher either side of her held her in place for a moment. Ilana was still aware of the crowd gathered on the shore behind her, but all she could see was the calm, placid water of the lake. Tendrils of mist hung gently in the air, silvery-white in the half-light that penetrated the canopy, and in that moment Ilana was struck by the quiet beauty, the tranquillity, of the forest and the lake.

Then the two Dark Ones holding her began to gently lower her forward, face first, into the water.

'Wait, I can give you... wait - wait!' Ilana's shouts ended a second before her head reached the water, as she still had the presence of mind to take one last deep breath before she was submerged. She started thrashing as her head slipped beneath the water, straining to break her bonds. All she needed to do was get a finger free. She could feel power welling up inside her, reflexively, but with nowhere to go. Just a finger. She flexed her arms, putting all the pressure on the ropes binding her wrists, tensing so hard until she thought she might break a bone. She could feel the ropes loosen by the tiniest fraction... maybe she could do this. But she was starting to feel light headed, and her lungs burned with the lack of air. She tensed again but the ropes wouldn't give any further. Just one finger, that was all she needed. She started twisting her wrists, painfully scraping her skin on the rough, coarse rope. She could feel them starting to give, and she found that she could flex her fingers slightly. Almost there... almost there...

Then her lungs finally gave way, and in a cloud of bubbles the remaining air left her body. Ilana just had time to register the inrushing water forcing its way into her body before, again, everything went black.

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* * *

'Hello. Hellloooo... wakey wakey, sleepyhead.' There was a voice, coming from somewhere. Ilana could hear it, but she couldn't see the source. Where was she, anyway? She felt strangely light, as if she was floating in the air. 'Hey, wake up, Come on, I have other stuff to do today you know.' That voice... it was coming from nearby, somewhere. Where? Where was this?

Then Ilana realised that she was underwater. She panicked. Kicking frantically she managed to get herself moving, but she couldn't see anything, just relying on blind instinct to take her up, upwards towards air.

That was when it occurred to her that she didn't feel like she was suffocating. In fact, she was breathing normally, even though she could feel the water in her lungs, the unexpected weight inside her chest and the slightly cooler temperature of liquid where there should be gas. She stopped kicking, more out of pure shock that anything else.

Only a couple of seconds had passed since Ilana had first heard the voice, and finally she woke up enough to realise that she would probably be better off if she opened her eyes.

There was a woman in front of her. A slightly translucent woman, with a faint blue glow. Beautiful, if you liked your women partially see-through, with a streamlined figure, pert breasts and long, flowing hair. She was completely naked, of course. Ilana just stared at her.

'Feeling better?' the woman asked. 'Or would you prefer to thrash around a bit more and be even more disruptive.'

'Who... who are you?' Ilana asked. She had no more trouble speaking underwater than she did breathing.

'I'm The Lady of the Lake.' the woman replied, with a gravitas that was somewhat tempered by her airily brushing back an errant strand of hair. 'This is my domain, my kingdom if you will. Okay, well I suppose that's a bit pretentious. I'm a Lady, of this lake and the others hereabouts. Just another water sprite, or nymph if you've heard the term. Although there are those who would say that as nymphs go I am a particularly ancient and powerful one. Personally, I don't like to boast. Anyway, this is my home you've gotten yourself dumped into.'

'Wait - is this the lake by the Dark Kin's lair?' Ilana asked. Painful memories were starting to filter back into her consciousness. She remembered... an execution.

'Well of course it is, how many lakes have you been drowned in recently?' the Lady replied, somewhat tartly.

'Drowned... am I dead? Am I a ghost?' asked Ilana. And then she added, 'Are you a ghost?' The woman was partially transparent, after all.

'No, I told you, I'm a nymph. Honestly, you're rather slow on the uptake, aren't you? And no, you're not dead, although frankly that's more than you deserve. I suppose I shouldn't have said 'drowned'. You weren't, not exactly.'

'But ... I remember ... the water.' Ilana could vividly remember the coldness spreading as the water flowed into her after her lungs finally gave out.

'Oh, I've no doubt that it felt like drowning. But as you should probably have been able to work out by now but apparently haven't, the water here is somewhat special. Courtesy of yours truly, I might add. If you hadn't tried to hold your breath for so long and just inhaled normally you probably wouldn't have passed out.'

'You made the water breathable? You saved me from the Dark Ones?'

'Oh goodness, no.' the Lady rolled her eyes. 'Or rather, yes I made the water breathable, but I didn't save you from anything. The water is always breathable, and they knew that perfectly well when they dropped you down here.'

'But ... why would they ...' Ilana was confused. What was the point of executing someone by drowning if it didn't actually kill them?

'Because they're too soft for their own good. Really, in most civilised parts of the world they'd hang you for what you did. What did the Orodin ever do to you anyway? You know it's not very nice to sneak around murdering perfectly inoffensive caretakers. I doubt poor Mudon had so much as raised his voice in anger in his entire life before you went and stabbed him. To say nothing of the way you mutilated the ones who caught you. Fire mages - honestly, you really are an unpleasant bunch of people. Think you can burn your way out of anything. Fortunately the others will heal, unlike Mudon. The Orodin are resilient, but you got him right in the heart with that ugly little sword of yours.'

'Well I didn't really feel like being torn limb from limb and eaten by the Dark Kin.' said Ilana testily, a little stung by the insult to fire mages. Largely because it was true. The fact that she was feeling extremely vulnerable didn't help her temper - she was still completely naked. First and foremost, as an adventurer she hated being without her weapons and magical equipment. Secondly, as a woman she couldn't quite stop herself from making comparisons between her naked body and what the Lady of the Lake had on display.

The Lady wasn't impressed by Ilana's comeback. She rolled her eyes. 'If they were the type to tear things limb from limb don't you they'd have done it when they captured you? Mostly their cuisine revolves around fruit and nuts, supplemented with frogs and snails and the occasional fish from my bounteous pools. Not stringy little sorceresses.'

'But the Dark Kin are known to be vicious predators, the terror of the Mistwoods. They are deadly savages who give no quarter.'

'Really? Who is this 'known' by exactly? How many people from the outside have actually explored the Mistwoods? Not many - fortunately it's generally pretty quiet around here, which is just the way we like it. And it's even fewer if you only count the ones who actually returned to tell the tale. And I'm betting most of them just went for a short hike through the outer edge and made up whatever story they felt like when they got home. You seem like an educated women, tell me: why would the Orodin hide in the deepest parts of the Mistwoods if they're so fearsome? Generally speaking, creatures who enjoy fighting don't spend a lot of effort making themselves hard to find. If the Orodin enjoyed preying on humans, don't you think they'd live a little closer to them?'

'But the Mistwoods are a brutal environment. Everything that lives here is either dangerous or dead.' Ilana knew that that wasn't much of an counter, but she wasn't ready to concede the argument.

'Oh, the Orodin are capable of fighting, but only to the extent that they can see off any Nachtwolfen that wander into the village looking for prey. That doesn't mean they enjoy it - they'd much rather just be left alone. They hate doing violence to any living thing, especially to sentient creatures. Which makes them rather unsuited to the world outside the Mistwoods where people kill other people all the time. In a variety of creative ways, I'm told. I doubt this is the first time you've thrown a fireball in someone's face, right?' The Lady raised an eyebrow, archly.

'They hunted me down in the forest.' said Ilana. There was a certain amount of internal cognitive dissonance forming between Ilana's mental picture of the Dark Kin and what the Lady was describing. On the one hand, the realisation was starting to creep up on her that she didn't know much about the Dark Ones, nor had they done anything to her - or anyone, as far as she knew personally - before she invaded their village. One the other hand, she still had the memory of her attempted escape, and the combat in the woods. She couldn't quite believe that anything that could fight like that was as harmless as the Lady was describing.

'Well, they might be pacifists, but even they draw the line at letting outsiders get away with murdering them. You rather stabbed yourself in the back there, by the way. If you hadn't killed one of them they'd probably have let you off with a warning, as long they got the scroll back. They understand that outsiders have a somewhat distorted view of them, and aren't the sort to hold a grudge. But murdering a sentient being is the worst crime imaginable to them. Plus they think it's rather irresponsible to just let killers go on their way and maybe end up killing again. They won't execute someone, though - too violent for them. Really, although I'm fond of them they do carry the whole pacifism thing to ridiculous extremes sometimes.' The Lady sighed, and then shrugged. 'Anyway, that's where I come in.'

Ilana drew back. 'What are you going to do to me?'

Fresh kindling hit the embers, the flames spread through them and slowly revived the fire. Orange light rose up and danced across the surrounding graves. The tongues of blaze reached up, clinging to the blackened sword that was at the center. More kindling joined the blaze, and soon, warmth was displacing the night miasma. The cooked bone of a horned hare snapped, and the man sucked on the marrow as he stared at the sword.

Above him, the stars stared down from behind the curtains of miasma, leaving the rest of the forest in a gloom. The river he had been following for the last day had a dull glow to it that seemed to wrap around the cemetery. The spirits wouldn't approach him, the fire kept them away. Fire did nothing for curious creatures, and worse than nothing to malevolent ones.

Pausing with a mouthful of hare, he shifted a hand down to the grip of his light arbalest and listened. The popping twigs in the fire were like a roar in the silence of the night. Even insects had been driven from the woods. He strained his ears, trying to pick out the noise of footsteps gently padding against moss and stone.

A pebble fell, tumbling from a tombstone and hitting the ground with a soft rustle.

The man leapt up, his cloak billowing the fire into a great blaze as he spun, bringing the arbalest to bear. A young girl cried out, and his gaze snapped down as she fell. Her eyes grew wide, and he could see her pupils fighting to discern his shadow from the firelight. Not quite a woman, but her hair was almost long enough to hide the points of her ears.

He lifted the arbalest and waited for her to speak.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, but I'm the one in charge of this resting place," she said, slowly getting back to her feet. Eyes locked on the man, she dusted the leaves and dirt from her skirt and pulled her hair back behind her ears. They were drawn out in long points that twitched up and down like a deer's.

'Oh, I'm not going to do anything. I'm just here to say hello. Welcome you to the neighbourhood, sort of thing. The Orodin get around their inability to deal with people like you by dumping them on me. Which is rather a chore, sometimes - after all, the Orodin only do it to girls who've done something very naughty, and they often aren't the most pleasant people to be around. But the Orodin are sweet bunch so I like to help them out where I can, and I suppose it injects a bit of variety into the area. You don't seem so bad. For a murderess, that is.'

'You're keeping me prisoner here?'

'Well, no, not exactly, not personally. But you won't be leaving anytime soon. When I said I made the water breathable, well, that's an exaggeration. It's breathable, but only if you don't mind never being to breathe air ever again. Think of a fish on land flapping about and you'll get a good idea of what'll happen if you try to go back to the surface.'

'You mean if I try to leave this lake I'll suffocate? I'm stuck here?'

'Yep. Forever. Or for the rest of your life, at least - you mortals are funny like that. Count your blessings that you're not a male, though. The Orodin give them to old Father Forest, and I doubt you'd want to spend the rest of your life as a tree. Although then again I have to confess I have absolutely no idea what it's like being a tree. For all I know it's a perfectly pleasant existence - sun on your leaves, water around your roots. I can imagine it would be quite relaxing. Or deathly boring, depending on your point of view. Anyway, if I were you I'd count your blessings full stop. As I said, I think you're getting off lightly, considering what you did.'

Ilana was quiet for a moment. 'I don't suppose it would help if I said I'm sorry?'

'Well, it might be a comfort to poor Mudon's family, but if you mean will it get you a reprieve from spending the rest of your life here? Nope. Biologically it's a one-way transition. Even if the Orodin - or me, for that matter - wanted to reverse it we couldn't. So get comfy here because this is where you're staying. And give some thought to saying sorry and really meaning it, because I'd rather not spend a couple of decades with an arrogant, cruel little witch who thinks she can go around throwing fireballs and stabbing people without any consequences.'

It was just starting to sink in for Ilana that her new acquaintance really meant it when she said that Ilana was trapped here. But Ilana hadn't become a member of the Ruby Brotherhood by giving up when presented with a challenge. There must be some way she could reverse whatever the water had done to her and return to the surface. 'What's the nature of the spell that makes the water breathable?' she asked. 'Is it a transference from the air above us? Or a transformation enacted on the breather?'

'Thinking about coming up with some magic that can help you escape? I'd tell you not to waste your time, but I don't suppose you'd listen. That's what all of them spend the first few months trying to do. Do you think you're the first sorceress I've had down here? They never get anywhere and neither will you, although I won't bother to stop you from trying. Won't help you either, though. I don't know why you'd think I'd tell you anything - I don't have any interest in helping you escape your just desserts.'

Almost as a reflex, power started flowing to Ilana's fingertips. 'What if I don't give you a choice? Tell me how the magic works or I'll give you plenty of reason to want me gone.'

I really should have posted this with an image since it spliced straight into someone else's writefagging

In response, the Lady laughed. 'Oh yes - try using fire magic underwater. Against a water nymph. In her own lake. Go on - see how that goes for you. It'd probably be an instructive lesson which you're sorely in need of. Honestly, fire mages. You're all the same.' The Lady suddenly darted forward in the water, and in an eye-blink she was less than a arm-span in front of Ilana, looking her directly in the eye. Blue sparks danced and fizzed in the irises of the Lady of the Lake's eyes. Ilana had to force herself not to recoil.

Quite casually, the Lady continued: 'Listen missy, I've had more powerful mages than you dumped on me and their magic is no match for mine. Not in my own Lake. What part of 'ancient and powerful' didn't you understand? And you specialise in fire, of all things. Honestly.' There was a moment of tension as the two women stared each other down. 'Well, go on.' said the Lady lightly. 'If you want to try something I'd rather you got it out of your system now. Just remember I'm not quite as much of a pacifist as the Orodin.' The Lady's hair had spread out behind her, and floated around her head like a blue halo. The way the strands coiled in the water made it look uncomfortably alive. And those blue eyes - eyes without any hint of anger, or malice. Just power.

Ilana looked away.

The Lady of the Lake drifted back a little until she wasn't directly in Ilana's face anymore. Then she smiled. 'Well, it's been nice meeting you, but I have other stuff to do. As introductions go, this probably could have gone worse I suppose. At least you didn't actually start a fight, which is more than I would have expected from a fire mage. Anyway, I'm sure I'll see you around. Bye-bye.' she started to drift lazily away into the dark waters, then turned back as if something had just occurred to her. 'Oh, by the way, what should I call you? Silly me; you'd think I'd remember to ask your name when I'm introducing myself.'

'My name is Ilana of Arrinberg.'

'Ilana. That's quite a pretty name really. Well, Ilana, I hope you enjoy your stay in my home. See you later.' The Lady began to swim away again, but Ilana called after her:

'Wait! What am I supposed to do now?'

The Lady stopped, and shrugged. 'Whatever you like, I guess. I can't say there's much to do around here, but the others find ways to keep themselves occupied.'

'The other prisoners? Where are they?'

'The word you're looking for is 'guests'. And they're around. Somewhere.' The Lady waved her arm vaguely. 'I have several miles of lakes here - all interconnected, underground. But if you just swim around for a bit you'll probably bump into someone sooner rather than later. Although if you see any of the Orodin around I'd appreciate it if you'd avoid them for the time being. They're rather sensitive, and naturally they don't want much to do with you at the moment.'

'The Dark Ones come down here?'

'Firstly, you should really stop calling them that. I suppose it's an apt description given their habitat, but it has negative connotations and I'd rather you didn't keep using it. They call themselves the Orodin. And yes, they come down here all the time. Before you get your hopes up, they haven't found a safe way to breathe the water. They're just strong swimmers who can hold their breath for a long time. Which is just as well, otherwise we'd never get any males down here - as I said, they only give me the female criminals, and the males go to Father Forest. It'd be a total clam party down here if they didn't visit.'

'Wait, are you saying you ... mate ... with the Dar - with the Orodin?'

'Yep. Vigorously. I don't know what you've heard about nymphs, but have we ever been associated with the word 'celibacy'? Not that it's just me - my felonious guests make their own arrangements as well. Fortunately for them the Orodin aren't the sort to hold grudges indefinitely.''

'Ew.'

'Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.' the Lady said indifferently. 'I suppose I might be naturally a little more flexible in my thinking given that I only wear this form as a matter of preference, but you should try to be a little more open minded. Even if by your standards of beauty the Orodin aren't much to look at, they're really lovely people. And hey, you've seen the size of them - trust me when I say that it's all in proportion.' She winked. Ilana's expression remained stony. The Lady continued, 'Hey, you might not think much of the idea now, but a few years without a man might change your mind. You're going to live a long time here you know - the water of my lakes won't make you immortal like me, but it will prolong your life. And your youth; shame to let it go to waste, really. My other guests all adapted to their situation sooner or later.' The Lady paused, as if a thought had occurred, and looked askance at Ilana. 'You're not a lesbian, are you? Because I don't go in for that sort of thing. It's Orodin or nothing down here.'

'No, I'm not a lesbian.' said Ilana. And then she quickly added, 'but I won't be having... relations ... with the Orodin.'

'Pity.' the Lady shrugged. 'A good hard fucking might improve your temperament. Anyway, if there's nothing else...'

'Wait - there's still something I need to know.' One issue in particular was still burning in Ilana's mind.

'Yes?'

'The scroll - what was on it? Who wrote it? Would it have been worth it?'

The Lady looked thoughtful for a minute. 'Hmm... I'll answer those in reverse order. Firstly, whatever is on the scroll it wasn't worth poor Mudon's life. Secondly, I wrote the scroll, along with Father Forest and a few other collaborators skilled in the arcane arts. And thirdly - what was on the scroll? What was on the thing that you came all this way for, killed someone for, got trapped in my lake for the rest of your life for?' The Lady of the Lake smiled. 'Who knows, maybe you'll be here long enough that I might even tell you one day.'

The Lady of the Lake turned away, and without another word swam off. Ilana was left there, floating in the twilight waters of the lake, at the end of her adventure.

--- The End ---

that was:
Adventure in the Mistwoods, or The Perils of Being a Murderhobo

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"I know it had it coming, but did you have to use the defib, boss?"

Anatoli, Sergei, and Sasha looked down at the zed Sasha had essentially cooked to dead. Anatoli felt amused, Sergei disgusted.

"My clip ran dry, and my pistol was lost somewhere during the assault. So I grabbed the next best thing on my vest."

Sasha's explanation did not comfort his sergeant much, if anything it made him a little more disgusted with his handiwork. To that, Sasha just shrugged and got back to his feet.

"Well, it's one less undead to bother us. C'mon, time we beat feet. Command wants 1st Company to secure the main square for a decam station."

Anatoli shrugged, Sergei grumbled.

"Goddamn plague storms..."

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>clip
You just tickled my autism

I mean, they're Russians fighting zombies.

He could be using a Mosin.

Yeah, but the clip only makes it so you don't have to reload the cartridges one-by-one. The clip doesn't actually go inside the weapon. Think of a clip like a speed reloader for a revolver, same concept.

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Gotcha. Admittedly, not a firearm guy so my expertise in the field is limited to say the least.

not that I really want to get into a discussion about this (if I did I'd go to /k/. And I don't go to /k/), but for clarity's sake in some rifles the clip goes in the weapon - the M1 Garand springs to mind, for example. Although you're right about the Mosin only using a stripper.

although the guns in the pic definitely look like they're using detachable magazines, so I can't really fault your autism.

I know what I'm about son.
Also pic is my contribution to the thread

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anyone got any thoughts on this?

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The man leapt up, his cloak billowing the fire into a great blaze as he spun, bringing the arbalest to bear. A young girl cried out, and his gaze snapped down as she fell. Her eyes grew wide, and he could see her pupils fighting to discern his shadow from the firelight. Not quite a woman, but her hair was almost long enough to hide the points of her ears.

He lifted the arbalest and waited for her to speak.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, but I'm the one in charge of this resting place," she said, slowly getting back to her feet, eyes locked on the man. She dusted the leaves and dirt from her skirt and pulled her hair back behind her ears. “My name is Kathryn Jirell,” she said, folding her hands together behind her back. She was dressed like a normal elven girl; thin leather boots up to her knees with soft pants tucked into them, a skirt for fashion, and a sindon coat that she had open in the sleeves.

The man shook his head and stepped back, gesturing to the opposite side of the fire. “Stewart. Stop looking like a deer. Do you eat meat?” the man said as he sat back down, using a tombstone as a rest. He reached down to his kill and pulled off another leg, tossing it to the elf before she could answer.

The girl squeaked as she caught the piece of roast meat, almost dropping it when she saw what he was sitting against. “Did you get permission for the Governor to hunt this?” she asked, her eyes fixing on the carcass. The scent was wafting up to her nose, and Stewart could see it twitching as her stomach began making decisions for her brain.

He smiled and shook his head. “Governor Swordheart didn’t have much to say at all about Riversbrook here. It was almost like he had forgotten it existed. Just like Hemorrhagic Fever did,” he said, bowing his head to bite into his own meat again. His eyes didn’t leave her though. He watched, fixed on her expression as she picked her way over to an exposed root to sit on. She took a bite of the meat, and so did he.

Kathryn sat with her legs tucked beneath herself. “Ever since the plague came, no one has been coming to the village. The adults were all talking about how the tithe wasn’t collected last week.”
Stewart nodded. “Aye, I’m friends with the tax man. He said the road had been ruined, that he couldn’t make his way to you,” he said, keeping his glare on her. She was looking back at him, fingers working anxiously across the meat. She was frowning. “I was at the Wagon Wheel Inn just a few days ago. Half the land’s been torn apart by the fever. Spreads like wild through elves. Creates a lot of unrest when the oni and such are unaffected.”

“Are you a human?” she asked, suddenly leaning forward.

Stewart blinked, and his hand moved to the sword next to him. He stared back at her, and slowly took his helm off. He had long brown hair down to his shoulders, and a beard to match. It was messy with sweat and dirty. "My people used to live near these parts," he answered, turning his head slightly so she could see his ear and jaw line.

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Here's the backstory for my first ever PC. Been GMing for 10+ years now, finally getting my first run as a player. System is Pathfinder.

Aroden Rainier, The Reckless
Cavalier, Order of the Shield
Born in 4686, in the city of Vigil of the nation Lastwall.
His father was Holm Rainer, one of the mounted knights responsible for the victory over Warlord Graukrad in 4695.
Named after the dead, but not forgotten god, Aroden was destined for great things in the knighthood of Lastwall. However, he rebelled against the government of Vigil in siding with Lastwall’s lower commanders, believing that Lastwall’s knights should be more active in their fight against the Orcs of Belkzen.
Aroden eventually betrayed his Watcher-Lord and father, riding a stolen horse from Vigil to the northwest corner of Lastwall where he participated in an unsanctioned attack against Belkzen. Of the 24 men who participated in the raid, only three survived and of these three only Aroden was not maimed. He returned to Vigil in shame where he was spared execution for his transgression, though stripped of his knighthood and exiled, banished from the nation with only a horse, longsword, and the clothes on his back.
Aroden now wanders the Inner Sea region, upholding the name of the Last of the First Humans, Iomedae and the edict of the Order of the Shield. Some folk, though few and far-between, mistake Rainier for one of the guises of the Living God.

Tried to make an interesting good guy without being a snowflake or marty stue

The way the xenos had taken out the fence was incredible. Anlec had fought with Imperial Stormtroopers on a few missions like this one, where stealth was preferred over firepower, and had seen them operate up close. They were among the best of the imperium, second only to the mythical Adeptus Astartes, and their training rendered them to operate under conditions that would cripple regular guardsmen.

The eldar were far beyond that. He noticed that the dead cultists hadn't put too much of a fight. Their weapons hadn't fired, and their heavy weapons were cocked. The eldar had slaughtered the entire picketing force with the precision of a medicae scalpel. He made a note to mention it to the ordo xenos debriefing team.

Meanwhile his men were quickly moving into position. They had established a rough perimeter around the picket to defend it from hostile reinforcements Of the 4 chimera APCs they had, two had been tasked with fire support, and two would be used to ferry the wounded and the demolitions team out of the zone of fire.

"Berndt, I want a radio check. Keep the line open."

"Right on it sir." Radio operator berndt began to beep into the vox and after a few moments was rewarded with the cacophony of the other tank crews. Anlec half heard Lupio swearing and telling his crew to shut up.

It seems that tankers always remained the same, talking about girls, or alcohol, or iho sticks. Or girls with alcohol and iho sticks. He had to suppress a smile. While his injuries made him repulsive to the fairer sex, he still drank with his men from time to time. When they had completed their operations, when they were starting their operations. During operations, and during victory celebrations. It helped dull the pain in his forehead, and he didn't hear strange snatches of music when he was drunk.

This mission was of vital importance, and as such he had not allowed his men to bring alcohol at all.

this isn't the OC thread friend.

anyone else get writer's block? I'm trying to think of something to write for this thread but I just stare at the screen and absolutely nothing comes.

I can only really write when inspired. Otherwise it's just stilted, hackneyed shit.

>Otherwise it's just stilted, hackneyed shit.
that's more than I can come up with. I literally can't even get more than a sentence or two out. For example, I tried to make a start on something for 'I feel the blood calling. I feel the shadows clawing at my soul.'

and that's as far as I got. I just have no idea where to take it from there. It's really quite bizarre, actually - some days I can do , and other days I can't even finish a paragraph

I used to be just like that. I got to 'stilted, hackneyed shit' by sitting there and making myself write, and when I really, absolutely could not come up with a thing, typing PLACEHOLDER and then skipping to the next paragraph.

Creativity is a fickle mistress.

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