Storythread

Storythread: 'it feels like we never left' edition.

This is a thread for creative writing of Veeky Forums-related fiction, so epic campaign greentexts and other non-fiction go elsewhere. 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).

What counts as Veeky Forums-related? Anything someone could plausibly use in a campaign (which means basically anything if you have enough imagination).

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.

There is a discord for writers:
discord.gg/6AwKHGF

The previous thread can still be found in the archive here
if you have any comments about the stories posted there.


And finally, don't forget to check out past stories on our wiki page:
1d4chan.org/wiki/Storythread

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=i2p3fb0G2Ok
twitter.com/AnonBabble

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"Okay, I just want to be on the record here: I think this is a bad idea."

The intercom crackled for a moment, and then the voice of Tobias Lunt, CEO and chief operating director of ADI Technologies, came through. "We're all well aware of your objections, Ms. Nakamura. However, your colleagues have determined that the risks are minimal. The board of the directors is in full agreement with me on this: the experiment is going ahead.'

"My colleagues are idiots, the board of directors would jump off a cliff if someone told them there was gold at the bottom, and that's /doctor/ Nakamura if you please."

Director Lunt stood motionless for a moment. Amy Nakamura looked up at him, but she couldn't read his expression: his face was hidden in the shadows, the dim lighting of the observation room even more diffuse than the minimally bright test chamber. Two bodyguards flanked him, standing rigidly to attention in their bulky body armour. It may just have been her imagination, but Dr. Nakamura thought that they shifted slightly when she snapped at Lunt, hand tightening around their assault rifles.

Good luck with that, thought Dr. Nakamura. The reinforced polymer glass between her and them was more than capable of stopping a bullet. Though if Lunt thought it would protect him from the consequences if this experiment went wrong he was going to be sorely disappointed. She wasn't exactly sure what would happen if the reaction cascaded, but she was pretty sure she'd prefer to watch the results from another planet.

After a few moments, the intercom crackled again. "If you wish to stand on a point of principle you're more than welcome to resign, Dr. Nakamura." Lunt's voice was so level he seemed almost mechanical. Actually, that was a gross slur on artificial intelligence. Amy actually liked her robots. They didn't do stupid, irrational things all the time, unlike people. They weren't greedy, and when she told them to do something they actually listened.

"And you're more than welcome to fire me, Director. But we both know you're not going to do that, because you know as well as I do that my colleagues are idiots and you need me if you want to have any hope of pulling this off. And we both know I'm not going to resign, because if I left you'd go ahead with the test anyway, and we all have a better chance of surviving if someone competent is at the controls."

"All that being the case, shall we continue? Not that your eschatalogical pronouncements aren't entertaining, but running this company is unfortunately a time consuming business, and I have other appointments today." Dr. Nakamura wondered if Lunt would be able to keep up that chilly facade if they lost control of the experiment and exotic particles started warping the very building blocks of existence around them. She guessed she would just have to wait and see.

"Very well." Dr. Nakamura tapped at her data tablet. "It looks like the generator is providing power at optimum levels. Containment fields in the reaction chamber look stable. All diagnostics on the equipment return normal. Paulo, what's the state of the servo parts." she called to a figure standing a little way off, by the door of the test chamber.

"I replaced anything that has been through more that five test cycles, and manually inspected every centimetre of the device personally." Paolo called back, in his soft Latin-accented voice. He was an engineer, one of the people on her project team not directly responsible for the working out the theory behind the experiment; his job was just to make sure the equipment worked. "And I know Dr. Kaczinsky checked the software again. The equipment is as perfect as we can make it. If something fails, it'll be because the reaction went outside our design limits."

"And wouldn't that be just unthinkable." muttered Dr. Nakamura. She called up to the control room: "Well, seems like we're as good to go as we'll ever be."

"In your own time then, Doctor." replied Lunt. Dr. Nakamura was sure she didn't imagine the almost imperceptible edge of nervousness she heard in his voice.

"Okay, well here goes... starting pre-operational tests." The robot in front of her began to move its manipulator arms as she began to check its responses to her commands. If its movements were even a little off she would have an excuse to call off the experiment. The clacking sound echoed off the walls of the curved test-chamber as its claws snapped open and closed. The test chamber was a torus, with the observation centre in the middle. Under certain circumstances it could be flooded with plasma, controlled by super-conductive magnets in the walls, but that wasn't what was planned for today.

"Amy, come on, we should be in the observation room for this." called Paolo. "It isn't safe down here."

"It isn't safe anywhere if this goes wrong." Dr. Nakamura called back. "Go on. If you find the illusion that two inches of polymer glass will protect you comforting, don't let me stop you."

Paolo shook his head in frustration, and left the test chamber. The door hissed closed behind him. Amy was only slightly surprised that he didn't then appear in the observation room. He was probably waiting just the other side of the armoured door, ready to rush back in as soon as the experiment was over. Maybe he imagined having to drag her radiation soaked body out of the torus - if he did, it would just go to show how little he understood what they were dealing with.

Just you and me now FN672-9, thought Amy, as the robot's arms whirred in front of her. The artificial lab assistant's responses checked out - for the first time, one of Amy's robot's had disappointed her. They experiment would have to go ahead. Oh well, no point in putting this off any longer: she tapped her tablet to activate the program that would start the experiment.

The robot's left arm reached forwards, and the claw pinched closed on the sample case. With mechanical speed and precision it unscrewed the top half and lifted it free.

The sample shone with dark light. Amy wasn't sure how she would describe its appearance to a layman. It was a spacial flecture, a tiny bit of twisted spacetime that had some of the properties of a black hole without the inconvenient gravity. The only visible evidence of it was the way it distorted light that hit it, throwing off radiance at strange angles, while dampening it in places. Amy was never much of a one for words; she'd always preferred maths. The best metaphor she could find was that it looked like a diamond with an anti-twinkle.

The program continued, and the bottom half of the container, which held the field emitters keeping the flecture in place, fanned out like a flower opening. The flecture began to descend into the reactor core. Plasmatic energies danced and sparked within. When they started to hit the flecture, then the real party would begin. Either the flecture would absorb them, in which case they would have discovered a method of power storage that could store a near-infinite amount of energy in an almost infinitesimally small point.

Or the sudden surge of energy would overload the flecture's boson matrix and collapse it. It was anyone's guess what would happen then, although everyone on the research team had speculated. Guesses went from it spitting back all the energy that had been fed into it with enough force to take out the facility and several square miles surrounding it - and that was the optimistic scenario - all the way up to tearing a hole in the very fabric of the universe.

Dr. Amy Nakamura was not an optimist.

Still, she had to admit as the flecture lowered into the chamber that all the readings looked normal. The generator was providing terajoules of power, with an accuracy to within kilojoules of what was specified. There didn't seem to be any unexplained excess within the reaction chamber, which meant that the flecture was absorbing it a peak efficiency.

And then... Amy's fingers whipped across the surface of her tablet as she struggled to confirm what she was seeing. The energy levels in the reaction core were actually dropping, which shouldn't be happening because the generator was still delivering power at the same rate. Either levels inside the chamber should be steady, or if the flecture was failing to absorb what they gave it then energy levels should be rising as it fed the excess back into the chamber. But if power levels were dropping that meant that pumping more power into the flecture actually increased its capacity to absorb energy.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Nakamura?" Lunt's voice was crystal clear. Maybe he is a robot, Amy thought. He must be seeing the same readings I am, and he isn't even raising his voice.

Amy herself was starting to sweat a little.

"Yes, yes there is a fucking problem. I don't know what's happening, but it shouldn't be happening."

"Shall I give the order to cut power to the generator?"

"No! No, don't do that. The flecture has changed somehow... is sucking in far more energy than we ever expected. It's /hungry/. If we cut it off now it may continue to eat up whatever's around it. I'm hoping if I can taper off the power supply its matrix will re-stabilise, settle back down into a more manageable state."

"What's the likelihood of that working?" asked Lunt. /Now/ he sounded nervous. He was probably trying to calculate whether he should be heading for his private helicopter.

"How the fuck should I know?!" Amy screamed back. "The time to ask questions like that was /before/ we dropped a piece of twisted reality into a fusion reactor!"

She was working furiously to try to manage the power levels, manually adjusting the generator's settings in as she tried to match the power output to the conditions in the in the core. She was running through calculations on six-dimensional fluid mechanics as she did so, trying to model how the plasma was acting as it interacted with the event horizon of the flecture, and at the same time creating different equations for the reactions of the flecture's boson matrix, trying to figure out a way to starve it without collapsing it entirely. But it was just too much to do in too short a time, and compounding this was the fact that she didn't really understood what had gone wrong in the first place.

Then the power levels in the reaction core dropped to zero. The light coming from the core ceased as the plasma arcs disintegrated and evaporated.

Uh-oh.

"Is that it?" Lunt's voice appeared again. "Has the reaction stopped."

"No. The generator's still feeding in power. There just doesn't seem to be any in the chamber, and it's got to be going somewhere. I think the flecture has shifted phase again."

"That's it, I'm shutting down the generator."

"No, wait...." it was already too late. He was already pushing the button as she said it.

At first, there didn't seem to be any reaction from inside the reaction core. Then, the casing began to distort.

"Oh shi..." but Amy didn't even have time to finish that thought before there was a 'pop'. Not a bang, not a loud explosion. Just a pop, like someone opening a bottle of champagne.

The reaction chamber disappeared. Just like that, the whole piece of equipment was gone. And in its place was... a hole.

At first Amy thought she was looking in a mirror, albeit one with a slight distortion. Then her 'reflection' raised its hand and waved.

"Ah." said Amy.

"Ah indeed." said the other Amy.

"They forced you to go ahead with the testing?"

"Yep. They said: 'what's the worst that could happen?' " Alternate Amy rolled her eyes. There were some things you just shouldn't say while you're conducting science. Like: 'I'm sure the side-effects are only temporary.', or 'They always leave a margin of error on the safety limits anyway.', or 'Hold my beer and watch what i can do with this particle accelerator.' 'What's the worst that could happen.' is, ironically, just about the worst.

Amy nodded. "Same. I told my lot it could rip a hole in the very fabric of the universe."

"Yep. Me too."

"I guess we were right."

Other Amy shrugged. "Not really very comforting at this point, is it?"

"Not really." Amy realised at that point that the observation room was empty. Lunt and his goons were probably making a beeline for his helicopter. She wondered how many fractions of a second longer they would live if they reached it. Then she turned back to the matter at hand. "How stable do you think this thing is?"

"I don't know. Not very would be my guess, but I'm not really sure what happened. Let me see..." Alternate Amy tapped her tablet a few times, bit her lip and flicked her braid behind her ear. Amy recognised that gesture. It meant: 'I've got squat.'

"Wait a sec, there's two of us now. The available brainpower for figuring it out just increased by one hundred percent. Well, minus one or two percent for everyone else who worked on the project. Come on let's talk this through. I take it your spacial flecture started sucking in more energy than predicted, same as mine."

"Yeah. And then it had its energy supply cut off, and shifted phase. But why..."

"Okay, we were pouring energy into it. But it wasn't just taking the energy and storing it, the energy was actually altering its structure."

"But you can't create sub-gamma-type bosons like that. It must have altered the way the matrix interlinks. Distorting it somehow... or distending it..." Alternate Amy looked at her counterpart for confirmation.

"Like a balloon. That's it!" Amy exclaimed. "The boson matrix was stretched like a rubber balloon being filled with water, creating a larger matrix, necessitating more energy."

"If the rubber was also a sponge at the same time. I guess the bonds that actually hold the matrix together must be mediated by something that would respond to a sudden surge in electrons and photons."

"We never predicted that, but it makes sense. Maybe a gluon pairing. So we pour energy into it, creating a super-matrix that's much, much larger than the original. Not only is the energy level inside the flecture dropping as the matrix eats it up, the actual space inside the flecture is expanding. Dropping density and expanding volume create an energy vacuum, sucking in all available energy around it." Apocalypse or not, Amy still felt a little surge in her chest as she realised she was onto the answer.

"But why the hole between universes? Unless... if the flecture got big enough it would start distorting spacetime on a more macroscopic scale."

"Which is pretty much what we figured might happen from the beginning."

"But if its being drawn towards nearest source of energy and its capable of tunnelling between universes..."

"Then if someone in the universe next door was performing the same experiment, and creating a spacial flecture with massive amounts of energy..."

"Then both flectures would tunnel towards each other!"

"Exactly! I guess this is what having an identical twin is like, because you just finished my thought." Amy, despite herself, was actually enjoying this. However, the next question she'd have to ask was a bit of a downer. "So what's going to happen next?"

"Well, what we're looking at now is each of our two flectures fighting to absorb the other. But when that's done..."

"They'll go looking for energy again. "

"Yep."

"Oh. Okay."

"If it's any consolation I'm pretty sure there's a limit to how far the matrix's bonds can stretch with the same number of bosons."

"Yeah. Eventually the balloon will burst." Amy shrugged. "Who knows, if we're lucky we may not even have destroyed the whole world. Just a rather large segment of it."

"Good. That's good. I'd hate to have been responsible that for wiping out /all/ of humanity." Alternate Amy was looking a little queasy nonetheless.

"Well it was nice meeting you. Really. I don't often get to have a conversation with someone who isn't a total idiot."

"Ditto."

"I'd say we should do this again sometime, but under the circumstances..."

"Yeah. Can I just say I think that dress looks great on you. I know a lot of people may have said it looks a bit tight for a work outfit, but I think it looks professional while still being aesthetic." Alternate Amy smiled. What she was wearing was identical in every respect.

"Thanks. You too. And your hair looks great as well." Not everyone manages to have last words that are both selflessly complimentary to someone you've only just met and shamelessly self-indulgent at the same time.

One flecture having won the battle for supremacy, it shifted phase again. This time the noise was louder that a 'pop'. A lot louder.

But Amy Nakamura didn't hear it. Either of them.

Sorry - /Dr./ Amy Nakamura.


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By the way, I don't know if Germanbro is still around but I should have finished translating another chapter of 'Herz aus Licht und Schatten' this evening.

For those of you who haven't been following along already, a German user wrote a story and wanted to post it here, but didn't have the English skills, so I've been translating it. I recommend reading it from the beginning if you're interested. It starts here:
also, it has nothing to do with , that's just some random story I wrote yesterday.

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Chapter 5: Heart


'Go wash.' said Roa, pointed to the bubbling river which gurgled along the southern edge of the forest. 'You stink.'

Sana watched as Ikalla hesitated, then finally slid down the grassy slope to the water. She herself had already done so, and she climbed onto a small rock that lay in the grass. She surveyed the hilly landscape, which stretched away to the south and east. In the midday sunlight she watched as Iza hopped after some frogs in the grass, trying to catch them.

I'm not making progress, Sana thought. I still don't know how to control my new arm. She led herself relax on the stone and looked at her arm. She touched her chest and felt her heartbeat. 'Turn around you peeper.' she heard Ikalla say behind her, and Sana had to smile. The girl reminded her of Rait a little. Loose mouth, no respect.

'Hey you.' Rait had said back then, the first time they met in the bushes. She had made fun of Sana because she was crying.

Best friends forever.

And when she was gone, and when I ran away from home, Rait went after... Sana added. Her thoughts wandered to Master Ruven, who had taken her in off the street and given her food and work. He thinks I'm dead, Sana realised. She bit her bottom lip and fought back the tears.

'Don't suppress it.' spoke the voice in her head.

Where were you?

'I'm always here, and I'll always be here as lon as you live. But... I am still weak, and only with great effort is it possible for me to talk to you - and even then I can't do it for long.'

All right then. What do I have to do?

'This.'

In an instant Sana was suddenly in darkness. The only light came from two openings, which showed a meadow, and Iza, who was frozen in the act of moving. When Sana looked down at herself she saw her naked body. Arms of flesh and blood, and a closed chest without a grey heart. She turned, and threw herself into the emptiness.

'What now.' she asked into the blackness.

Behind her she heard wingbeats, and a raven flew around her. It was as big as she was, and landed in front of her on the nothingness. Two large white horns arched backwards from its head. With twitching movements it turned its head and looked at her, first with one eye, then with the other.

'Well that's weird.' said Sana, and just then the raven began to grow. Wings became a long feather cloak, and it's body became that of a man. Only the horns still recalled his unnaturalness. His face was spotless, with fine features, but the eyes were still large and bird-like.

He said: 'We do not have much time.'

The raven spirit pointed behind her, and Sana caught the sound of Rait's voice. 'Best friends forever.' She felt as if something was tensing within her, but she didn't turn around.

'What's going on?' she asked.

Then she heard her younger self say, 'Two years ago it was my twelfth birthday.' Sana turned with a jerk and saw the child.

Rait stood before her. 'What's this? Stop.' Sana said, and saw as Rait nodded to her younger self. The black glow in her hair shimmered in the late evening light. She stood in her old hiding place in the bushes.

Rait said, 'If you hadn't run away from home, I would never have found you here, broken down in tears.'

Insulted, Sana muttered: 'I had something in mind.' Both broke into laughter.

Behind her, the voice of the raven spirit said: 'That is the moment. The core and the knot in your unconscious. And the key.'

'Tomorrow then...' said Rait expectantly, and adult Sana said it in unison.

There were tears in her eyes. The picture faded when Rait disappeared into the bushes. The Raven Spirit hovered by her side and said: 'You have to become one with your feelings. They have to fill you completely, and always be there, in every moment. Remember every suffering, every sadness, every desire, every anger, every rage, every hatred, every fear, and let them fill you. Then you can concentrate the raw forces and direct them against your enemies.

Sana closed her eyes and pressed them together. She groaned, 'I don't want to, it hurts so much, I want to forget.'

'What about your parents?' said the Raven Spirit. Sana heard her mother calling: 'Sana. Where are you? Sana?'

'She probably called for you when you ran away.' said the spirit.

'Damn it, where is she?' Sana head her father cursing, accompanied by her mother's sobbing.

'Stop.' said Sana, crying bitter tears. The Raven Spirit said: 'It doesn't matter how painful or shameful your feelings are. You have to draw them out, you have to have them constatly in your consciousness. Only then can you shape them and direct them.

Sana's whole body ached, pricking, pulling and pushing. She fell to her knees and propped herself up with her arms. Sobbing and crying out into the black stillness.

'I will let you go now, for I am getting weaker.' You know now what to do.'

With a deep pull, Sana gasped and opened her eyes. She still felt the tears on her face and the memories in her. Blackness enveloped her body. She fell to her knees and stared at the steaming earth in front of her. Confused, she looked up and saw nothing but burnt earth. She stood, limbs shaking, and looked for the others.

Behind her, where the burned ground ended, stood Roa, swords drawn. Next to him stood Ikalla, arms crossed with a serious look on her face. There was no trace of Iza. She looked at her arm, and directed the energy back. Immediately the darkness withdrew into her arm. She mentally formed a hand, and the claw transformed. It works, she realised. Sana waved cheerfully and Roa and Ikalla, before looking around for Iza. But there was no sign of her.

Roa came closer, and Sana asked him: 'Where is Iza?'

He sheathed his swords and pointed towards the forest. 'There, between the trees. She fled in fear when you... transformed.

Sana felt guilty. It must have given Iza a big fright, she thought. I'll apologise to her. She jumped down the embankment to the river and waded through the cold water. On the other side she found Iza, who was hiding behind a tree. She looked at Sana shyly.

'Is the Fury gone?' she asked.

'What Fury?' Sana asked, and she sat down on a fallen tree. Iza came out at once, and sat down next to her. In the sunlight the jewelled green of her feathers shone even more.

The harpy said: 'My mother... when she was still around, she told me stories. Of a land far away where harpies live free and wild. Where they sing to the wind and dance in the storm. One of her stories was of the Fury, a storm-monster. She was once a harpy, but one day the Breakers came and took all her flock away on their boats. She was so enraged, so filled with hate, that the wind entered her and made her into a Fury. She is said to have killed the Breakers, but unfortunately in her blindness she also killed her own sisters and brothers. It is said that when she realised this, she threw herself into the waves of the sea.' Iza looked deep into Sana's eyes, and said: 'I was afraid that you had become a Fury.'

Sana stoked her head. 'I'll never become a Fury, I promise. i know how to control it now.' She raised her black arm and smiled cheerfully at the harpy.

'But do you know what that is?' asked Iza. 'You don't even have a name for it. What if you turn into a Fury without even noticing? I don't want you to become a Fury.'

Sana lay an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. 'I promise you I won't become a Fury.' Iza nodded and Sana said. 'Come on, let's go back to Roa and Ikalla.'

'I don't like Ikalla.' With a single sentence, Iza jumped onto Sana's back and took her usual place on her shoulders.

'I'm hungry.' complained Ikalla, as soon as they were back again. Sana too felt a murmur in her stomach.

Roa reached into a pocket on his leather armour and took out two green balls. 'One half for each of us.' he said, and split it with a swordblade.

'What is that?' asked Ikalla, putting it in her mouth and carelessly chewing it.

'Oh yeah, swallow, don't chew.' he added, handing the other halves to Sana and Iza. Meanwhile Ikalla made a retching sound. 'Military rations. It contains everything your body needs, and you feel full for a day. Also, it tastes horrible.'

Sana swallowed her half.

'Let's get moving again.' said Roa. 'Hopefully this time without incident.' He went ahead and Ikalla followed him.

After a few steps, with Sana enjoying the warm sun on her skin, Iza said from up on Sana's shoulders: 'I wish I could be as strong as you.'

Sana answered: 'If you have someone who you'd do anything for, then you can be as strong as me.'

'Yes, but I don't have an arm like yours. I only have wings which can't fly.'

'I'm sure that you can learn to fly, if you put your mind to it and devote all your energy.'

'Do you really think so?'

'Yes.'

They were going down a hill that led to a small valley. At the bottom Iza asked: 'Don't you want to know what that is that you've got on your arm?'

Do I want to?

'Of course.' Sana answered, looking briefly at the greyish surface of the back of her hand. 'When I found it, it looked different. White, with a rainbow-coloured gloss. Then Rait appeared though, and it turned black.'

'Who is Rait?' asked the Harpy.

'Rait is...' Sana sighed. 'Rait is my best friend. We made a vow to be best friends forever.'

'Can I be your best friend too?'

'I don't know. I think there's only ever one person that it can be. That's how it is for me, anyway.

'Hm. What do you want to do with that thing when you finally find Rait?'

Sana looked at her arm again and pondered the question. The Raven Spirit said that without him I would die, she thought. He is my heart now.

'I think I'll keep it. I don't believe that I can take it off so easily. We're so interconnected that I'll die if I don't have it any more. Why do you ask?'

'I don't know it that thing is good for you. With it, you're stronger on the outside, but weaker on the inside.'

Sana was amazed at the degree of wisdom that had just come out of Iza's mouth. Maybe she's right, Sana thought. 'How old are you actually?' asked Sana.

'I don't know.'

Sana had climbed to the other side of the hill, and she now looked out over even more endless hills. Sana wanted to ask Roa something about harpies, but she didn't dare. She wanted to know why intelligent harpies like Iza were bred, but maybe she'd be opening old wounds for her companion.

'How far is it to Akanda?' asked Sana.

Roa, at the front, said: 'Tomorrow evening, around nightfall. And its name is "Iskanda".'

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What gets me most about this is the length. The writer got as far as fifteen chapters in and was still like 'Yeah, this is going well, this is definitely worth the time I'm putting into it. I can get another couple of chapters out of this idea'.

And its well written. I mean, not exactly high literature, but the prose is competent (and doesn't seem to be the product of someone with a serious mental disorder, or someone who's writing by just randomly slapping his dick on the keyboard).

I have written some fucked up things in my time - and I mean like seriously disturbing shit - but I have never put so much effort into being a complete stain on humanity. That's like a quarter of a novel right there.

I want to tell you you're a terrible person for posting that here, but honestly I'm just so horrifically fascinated by it that I can't. Though even if I can't condemn you, you might still have a few things to sort out with God.

Incidentally, where the hell did you find it? (assuming you're not the author)

Veeky Forums archives

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Mood music: >youtube.com/watch?v=i2p3fb0G2Ok

The barmaid, Betha Gethin was doing her usual routine in the tavern she was working in. Take orders, serve food and drinks, and even put up with a few or couple of gropes and fondling from patrons, drunken or sober.

The door of the tavern opened and in came inside another patron whom Betha is very familiar with. A young wizard boy named Benjamin Sokol, Benjamin the wizard boy in question actually used to be an apprentice for a much older and more experienced magic user. But Benjamin's master and tutor unfortunately, died in a break-in and or attempted robbery.

According to what Benjamin would tell to anyone who'd ask him about it. It all started when some thieves broke in to the house Benjamin's previous master owned. And when Benjamin's Master warded and tried to scare off the thieves, the thieves scrambled with get out once they realized the person they were trying to rob was a wizard. But in the chaos of the thieves trying to rush out of sight, they accidently knocked over many shelves containing magic tools, recipes and other volatile concoctions to the ground. The retreating thieves accidently knocked down a soul gem that contained the soul of a rather strong demon. And because of that, the now-freed-demon-soul possessed one of the robbers but Benjamin’s Master acted fast. Benjamin’s Master hurled destructive magics; fireballs and electricity included, to the possessed burglar, because if the host body that the demon possessed is killed or destroyed, the demon’s soul dies aswell.

And before the demon could do anything after possessing a person, Benjamin’s Master effectively killed the demon but the possessed robber aswell in the process. This in turn prompted one of the still surviving burglars to shoot a small crossbow bolt into the head of Benjamin’s Master, killing him instantly. But Benjamin survived the mess as he managed to chase off the burglars.

>will continue

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>'What is that?' asked Ikalla, putting it in her mouth and carelessly chewing it.
Worst sex scene ever.

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Quiet weekend. I almost feel like I'm the only one here atm

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It's probably 100% more erotic in the original German

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And so the young wizard Benjamin Sokol now lives all by himself and provide magical services for hire. Said services he'd provide range from enchanting of items, teleportation services, arcane consultations, and even exorcisms. Despite Benjamin being an orphan basically and with his master being gone, he helped him self up in pulling his boot straps and has made a decent enough living with his current occupation of self-employed magical consultancy. And now he is spending some of his free rest-and-relaxation time by paying a visit to a cozy little tavern, which Betha Gethin works in.

And as Benjamin took his seat, Betha saw him as she turned her head oh so slighty where she saw him in her peripheral vision. And Benjamin saw Betha too in her ever recognizable black corset and furred skirt and knee length boots. But Benjamin did not seem to pleased to see her, and Betha filled a glass with raspberry juice for Benjamin and walked to where he was seated.

"Why hello again Benji my dear." She said somewhat sultrily to Benjamin as she laid down the juice filled glass to Benjamin's table.

"What now Betha? Can't you see I am trying to have some rest and relaxation by having a nice warm meal, a cold drink and with some pleasant tunes from the bards playing right now?" Benjamin said in a somewhat tired and annoyed tone.

"Now now Benji. Is that how you talk to nice lady who's serving you your favorite fruit juice? Didn't your mama teach you manners?" She playfully asked.

"Betha I told you I grew up with no parents, my previous master Andrei adopted me as his apprentice but died in a miserable manner from an attempted robbery. So please quit it with those jokes, or quips."

"Come on Benji, do you always have to act like such a sour-puss? I know you're a self employed young magic boy. But you should lighten up."

Benjamin pinched the bridge of his nose and responded. "You've told me that many times everytime I come here to just have a meal and drink. And I tell you, I'm just a busy person who has clients to work for and keep up with, taxes to pay and the other magical and arcane related things I have to deal with the job I do for a living."

Betha grabbed a chair and took a seat close to Benjamin. "Come on Benji, you should really lighten up more!" Betha said cheerfully with her attempts to cheer up Benjamin. "Seriously Benjamin, you must oughta lighten up more." She said again as she patted Benjamin's shoulder, then held his hand.

"Tell me, you just want to get into my pants do you?" Benjamin asked bluntly to Betha.

"...Huh? What???" Betha asked confused with a light chuckle all while she was still holding Benjamin's hand. As Benjamin said again

"I deduce you're being this friendly and close to me either because you're trying to get something from me. OR you're craving for some young blood and flesh, trying to cozy me up just so you can get into my pants."

Betha was in a pause for a moment taking in to process what ever hyperbolic thing Benjamin just said. Just then Betha let out a hearty laugh and responded.

"Ahahaha, oh my Benji. Seriously? Is that what you think? You obviously never been around women or girls, which also proves another issue with you. You're such a loner, spending so much time all alone by yourself! Thehehe!"

"I am not a loner Betha! I converse with my clients and talk to people in need of magical services and or consultancy, duh!"

"No, no dear boy. Sure you talk to people in your work, but do you talk to people for just... Socializing? Making friends?" Benjamin was in a pause at that question, all while Betha continued. "No Benjamin, I got no plans to sleep with you, yet... But Benji, you spend too much time with being a loner. It makes you all moody, broody, dense and just plain old grumpy."

Betha kept continuing as she moved her hand out of Benjamin's and snaked her arm around Benjamin's neck. "Listen I get you're still young teen who's got no one else close in his life all while having to work in magic and mage related stuff at a young age. And you got other responsibilities to handle at such a young age which should be normally reseverved for adults. But that doesn't mean you gotta act so, well- grumpy and moody as like you do."

And Benjamin finally spoke. "So what do you, tavern maid, suggest then?"

"Easy, socialize. Or at least, have someone close in your life."

"...I get the whole socializing thing... But what do you mean. 'Have someone close in your life?' Huh?"

"Weeell... You're all alone in that big house of your's jsut outside of town right?"

"That 'big and empty house' is, or was my master's. Till he died from the attempted robbery that I've always told, which is now mine to myself."

"Right, what I'm saying is... Me! I can be that close and personal one in your life."

Betha said with cherry smile as Benjamin snickered at that. "Pfft, hah. I knew it, you're just really trying to get on to me are you? And what exactly you're supposed to be? My 'mom?' My 'girlfriend?' 'Maid?' What?"

"Someone who'd not keep you all lonely you dense brooder. Like I said, you need someone close in your life to make you less miserable from all the work and responsibilities you do. And so what if I'd be your lover Benji? I like you, you're a cute young man, and I'd love to be such an experienced and well educated wizard who's a young boy."

"If you're offering to get into my pants when I 'feel like to' with you. May I remind you I'm still young, as in I am of sixteen years of age?"

Betha grinned and leaned in closer to whispered to Benjamin's ear. "So what??? You get to have a pretty girl like me all by yourself. And I can help make you feel more like a man."

>will continue

...

...

>I'm gonna get laid tonight!

...

Normally Benjamin would be disgusted by such a lewd behavior and response. But since he and Betha have known each other for quite some long time now he just chuckles at such of Betha’s humor which he has gotten accustomed to.

"Tch, Good gods. I knew you just wanted to get into my pants. Have you no shame woman? I am but just a youthful teen."

Betha responded back with a light hearted chuckle "Heh, relax Benji. If purity is something you're concerned about, I have not laid any man yet." She said as she leaned closer again to Benjamin to whisper in his ear again. "And besides, just like you I'm a virgin."

Benjamin looked at Betha with a smirk and raised eyebrow. "You're telling me you're still a pure virgin waiting for the 'right man' to be with. Despite the fact you yourself have to deal with lewdness in your line of work."

Betha chuckled. "Benji, are you assuming I'm a whore who's already slept with numerous guys? Come on Benji, you really think I'm like that? It's because I'm dressed like this isn't it?"

Benjamin was in a pause for a couple of seconds looking at Betha and replied. "Well... Yeah that, its because of how scantily dressed you are..." Benjamin said with a hint of shame in his voice. "...Sorry if I assumed you were, well. A whore..."

"Awww, its okay Benji apology accepted. Besides, what I said's true. I've never slept with anyone yet, and I've only put up with a bunch of drunken dolts groping me. And clearly the only 'man' I'm willing and glad to be intimate with is none other than. You." She booped Benjamin on the nose as she said the You.

Plus, Betha saying she never bedded with anyone is true. Betha is indeed a virgin and they only person she'd be ever intimate with is soon-to-be-mature-within-two-years Benjamin. As a matter of fact despite the type of job that Betha has, which would have her deal men wanting to have sex with her. She has never made a deal with such a thing ever since she has met Benjamin Sokol. It was when Betha and Benjamin getting acquainted, accustomed to each other and basically becoming friends did Betha decided to give up her act as a wench. And just work as a barmaid who gets to sit and chat up with the young wizard boy Benjamin Sokol, who frequents the tavern Betha works in as a barmaid. Plus it was very obvious to people that they've noticed local barmaid Betha chatting up and being friendly with the local wizard boy Benjamin. And because of that, patrons, both men and women would not bother hitting on or flirting with Betha. Fearing they might endure whatever arcane wrath Benjamin would bestow upon them.

And so after Betha confessed her honest feeling. Benjamin simply shifted his body while sitting on his seat to easily look at Betha.

"So I guess this means you want to move in with me then?" Benjamin said simply

"Why not? We've already known each other for almost a year and a half. All those times you'd come in here, have a nice meal and drink, all while you'd tell me those fancy wizard jargon and magical spells-stuff you wizards and mages do. And you'd even tell me those stories and legends all about magic, mystical creatures and sorcery. Which I admit kept me entertained."

Benjamin smiled at that. "Well that there is such knowledge and even history taught to me by my master Andrei. And I admit, I do feel gleeful and even joyful having you sit with me at those times and have you listen to me go on and on about such magical related history, tales and legends." Said Benjamin with an even bigger and happier smile.

Betha also replied and smiled. "Thats right and I genuinely enjoy listening to your tales. And you should be more happy and colorful, than being all broody, grumpy and lonely. And smile more while being cheerful, you're more handsome. Even cuter when you're just smiling and being in a more happier mode so don't let adult-like responsibilities weigh you down too much. Start having a life outside your wizarding and job, socialize, make new friends, even if it means attending the the local baron's parties he'd throw out in a good mood."

Benjamin still held his smile, knowing that he now feels more happy and less miserable and even less dull with the weight of such responsibilities in his life.

"I guess you have a point after all Betha. Maybe I could use more rest-and-relaxation from time to time."

"Got that right, and hey. When it comes to that job of your's, there's no shame saying you're not available or your closed during the weekends. Use the weekends to rest and unwind because you did tell me your open for service every whole week right?"

"...Yeah I'm open seven days a week and maybe I can declare myself a new schedule. Open from Breighday to Tramday, closed in in the weekends."

"Good, now you're getting it."

"...So Betha, you sure about it? You really want to move in with me?"

"And be that someone close to you who'll help keep you not alone and less cheerful? Then yes, I'd be glad to be with you my dear Benji boy. You and I can go to my place later, arrange my things to move, and have you do your magic thing with teleporting my stuff to your house."

"Alright, sure. I guess we can do that." Benjamin nodded approval as he took a sip from the glass of raspberry juice served to him by Betha. It was still cool as it refreshed Benjamin's throat. "But first Betha, the reason why I came here as usual. I'm hungry and still thristy, so can I please have a meal first?" He asked cheerily.

"Sure thing Benji. I'll get to it shortly." Betha said with zeal.

...

White, the colour of death. Black, the colour of duty. Red, for beauty. And green, the colour of life.

These were the colours of a funeral.

Annietta lay in a long red dress beneath boughs of holly and fresh-cut ferns and clusters of beech leaves. The templegrounds were decorated in the most verdant, vibrant greens that could be found. And by Annietta's side stood Rochard, the priest, dressed in the sombre black vestments of his office.

Annietta's face was white as the moon. Still and pale like a marble statue. Her chest did not rise and fall and her closed eyes did not flutter in a dream-disturbed sleep. Annietta was dead.

So young, to be dead. Annietta was only seventeen, and the illness had taken her breath away scarcely before she knew it. It had come upon her as a crescent moon had waned, running so quickly that she was cold and still before the new moon's turn. So young, to be dead. She had not yet found a husband, nor ever born a child. She never would now, at least in this world. The only love she had known was the love of her parents, her sisters and her brother, who wept quietly beneath the dew-soaked greenery. Droplets beaded on the leaves and fell, mixing with the tears of the bereaved.

Today they would say goodbye to her. Not forever, unless they were stricken by unexpected immortality. But they would not see her again in this world. She would be taken away, never to return.

They prepared to greet her death. The templegrounds were set out with food, and the gates adorned with ribbons. The congregation stood ready to welcome the one who would take her into the lands that lay far, far from the lands of mortal men and women. And in this case, there was more than the usual feast, and the congregation were dressed in greens /and/ yellows, and there was laughter in the air as well as sorrow. And Annietta wore red, hot and fiery and beautiful as blood-kissed sunrise, rather than the more usual funerary white.

These were the colours of a funeral and a wedding.

Since Annietta had died without ever taking a husband, it would be a special sort of death that came for her today. There were many deaths - indeed, it was rare that any village would ever see the same one twice - and they came in as many shapes and sizes as mortals themselves. Annietta's great-uncle had died the year before, and the death that had come to take him to his beloved wife and eldest daughter had been a tall man in early middle age, not unlike Rochard. A few months before, and it had been a young girl who had come to bring Old Mother Magareta away, and reunite her with the family she had lost so many years before. It was almost never known which death would come before they appeared at the gate of the templegrounds, but in Annietta's case it was almost certain who would be sent.

A young man, fair of face and strong of limb. A man fit for a husband, who was himself alone and in need of a wife. Bad enough to die, but at least most mortals knew that they would one day be reunited with their loved ones. Annietta, however, although she would see her parents and siblings again, had no husband to reunite with. Bad enough to die, worse still to spend eternity alone without the touch of a lover. And so, in their boundless compassion, not only would the undying lands send one of their own to bring Annietta to them, they would give her a husband to spend eternity with.

So Annietta's long, lustrous brown hair was combed, and she was bathed and dressed in finest red and given golden jewellery. After all, they could hardly present the groom with a bride that wasn't worthy of him, or he might turn around and leave her where she lay. Not everyone got to go to the eternal lands, after all, and when it wasn't just a passenger but a bride they wanted him to take it made sense to make the extra effort.

It was early afternoon when he arrived. The clouds were low and heavy, but they were silvery and misty rather than dark and stormy, and the air was warm and humid. There was not even the hint of a breeze, and the ribbons on the gate hung motionless in the lifeless air. The congregation in their heavy formal clothes were beginning to lose their cheer, and Rochard was having to work hard to draw out conversation in his flock. He himself, dressed all in black, was no more comfortable, but he pressed on nonetheless.

He managed to coax a laugh from Annietta's mother, Isabet, her first since her daughter's heart had stopped, by asking her to recall a time when Annietta had surprised her. It would be Rochard's duty, when death came, to tell him something of his new bride. In fact, his main task was to welcome the deaths when they came to the village, acting as the community's representative to the other world. Until the bridegroom arrived, though, Rochard busied himself in keeping the atmosphere from dragging. Isabet laughed again at a memory Rochard mentioned offhand, of Annietta tricking him into eating a cake seasoned with salt instead of sugar. Many priests did not feel this sort of pastoral work was really part of their duties, but Rochard found it one of the most rewarding . Then he turned, responding to the slight flicker in Isabet's eyes, and saw that death was already at the gate.

Death rode a white horse, as every death did. However, Rochard had scarcely ever seen such a fine specimen before. He might say the same of the rider himself, as well - long white hair cascaded down his back, framing a pale face with fine cheekbones and a strong jaw. Like all deaths he was as white as... well, as white as death itself. Except for his garments, which were black. Like Rochard, he was here on a matter of duty, although rather than Rochard's vestments death wore fine leathers more suited to travel. He was slender rather than heavy-set, and tall. Even Annietta in all her beauty could consider herself fortunate. Seated on his horse he towered over the congregation, and he looked down at them with a calm but kind expression.

Rochard rushed over to the gate, and unbolted it quickly. The gate was always locked during a funeral, to be opened when the true emissary of the eternal lands arrived, rather than some impostor come to steal away the dead. Part of a priest's training was in recognising the types of evil who might impersonate death in order to deny the dead their journey to the undying country, and hence it was Rochard's duty to open the gate.

This was most certainly the genuine death, and Rochard hurried to admit him. The gate opened, and the horse trotted forward. Death looked down at Rochard. The priest gave a short bow, and smiled.

'Welcome, sir. I trust your journey was fair.' Rochard didn't have a script, as such, but he generally gave the same greeting.

'The journey between the eternal lands and here is sometimes peaceful, and sometimes not, but it always ends the same.' Death smiled.

Rochard not quite sure how to respond to that, simply said: 'I hope you know that we are most glad to see you here, sir.'

'It is a strange day for all of us. A time of sorrow...' Death trailed off.

'And also a time of joy.' Rochard completed. This was an odd experience for him - he was more used to being the one leading the conversation. This Death had a commanding aspect to him, and Rochard could feel the keenness of his mind.

Death smiled, and dismounted his horse. Taking hold of his mare's black bridle he began to walk towards the bier. 'Come, tell me of my bride.' he asked Rochard, who strolled along beside him.

'She is beautiful and bright, sir. Not known for being obedient or dutiful, but she brought joy and laughter to every place she ever stepped. We are greatly saddened to lose her, but we rest easy knowing that she is carried away in safe hands.'

The congregation parted as the priest and the groom walked towards where the bride lay. The two talked softly, and the crowd, keeping a respectful distance, couldn't make out what was being said. They saw death smile, though, and at one point Rochard even laughed. It took a minute or two for them to reach the bier, horse placidly walking along by its master. Then they stopped, and stood for a moment and regarded Annietta in all her scarlet glory.

Death looked at Rochard. 'You found the right calling, priest. A minute or two is not long for seventeen years of life, but I feel that you have done Annietta justice.' Death looked up, at the leafy boughs and branches that the villagers had woven together for the occasion. 'And your temple is beautiful. Truly, I could almost be standing in the undying lands right now.'

'You honour us, sir.' replied Rochard, and he meant it, for this was but a simple village and he a simple village priest.

Then Death gestured towards the bier. It was time. Rochard nodded, and beckoned to Annietta's family. It was time to say goodbye for the last time. One by one, Annietta's father, her mother, her two sisters and her brother came forward and said a final psalm for her, kissed her cheek, brushed a strand of hair away from her face. They tried to keep the tears from they eyes, but Annietta's father Alber had to choke back a sob. When this was done, Rochard stepped forward and slipped his arms underneath Annietta's slight form. It was just as well she was so light, for Rochard was not as young as he once was.

In one motion the priest lifted Annietta up. He cradled her in his arms, her red dress flowing down to his knees. Then he turned to her Death.

'Do you give this woman?' Death asked.

'I do. Do you take this woman, as your passenger to the eternal lands, /and/ as your wife?'

'I do.'

Carefully, Rochard handed Annietta's motionless body to her Death. Death looked down at his new bride for a moment, then he leaned forward and his lips touched hers. He gave her a long, deep kiss.

And just like that it was done.

The crowd burst into applause. It wasn't exuberant, for this was still a sombre occasion, but it was heartfelt and with genuine happiness. It was just a shame that Annietta couldn't feel it, Rochard thought - a kiss like that should be one to remember. Then the applause started to die down, and people began to mingle. The party had begun, so that Annietta would leave this world to the sounds of laughter and merriment, and know that her friends and family were happy for her. The celebrations would no doubt continue until the following morn.

'You are welcome to stay and feast with us.' Rochard said to Death. He wouldn't of course, but that did not mean that hospitality should not be offered anyway.

'I thank you for your kindness, priest, but the time has come for our journey together to begin.'

Rochard nodded. No Death ever ate the food of the mortal lands. Nor would any of the congregation speak with Death; that duty was reserved for Rochard alone.

'Then I bid you farewell. May you have a fair journey. Together.'

Death smiled. Then he set Annietta on the saddle of his horse, and the animal stood so firmly that her unconscious form didn't slip as Death mounted beside her. Then Death took the reins in none hand, supporting Annietta with his other arm, and gently spurred his horse. The shining white mare began to trot towards the gate, the guests once again giving the path a wide berth. Death didn't look back as he and Annietta left the templegrounds.

Rochard bolted the gate behind them. This too was part of his ceremonial duties, this time to keep the dead out rather than keep them in, lest they yearn to return to their family and friends. However sorry he was to see Annietta go, she could never come back.

Though, having met her knew husband, Rochard doubted that she would want to.


* * *


Death's horse progressed slowly. Once they left the templegrounds the paths became more stony than the soft, sandy gravel of the temple. Death also noticed how, although there was still plenty of greenery, the landscape was washed with browns and greys. Scrubby, knotted bushes grew by the roadside, and out beyond the wheat fields the hills were rocky and dusty, dotted with small, hardy trees. All though it was still quite light, he found the low, grey skies oppressive. This was not a landscape he felt at home in, and he was glad to be leaving. He looked down at his passenger - his wife - and wondered how she would feel. He thought he knew, but one could never be sure.

They were out of sight of the village sooner that should have been possible, given the white horse's pace. But Death travelled ways that were unknown to mortal men and women. Soon his mare was once again treading proudly the secret paths that led to the eternal lands, and noticeably friskier as they started to leave behind the mortal lands. The foliage was thickening, and the browns and muted greens of the mortal lands began to give way to emerald-bright woods. Points of red and blue glinted, flora peeking through amidst the foliage. Although large branches heavy with rustling leave stretched overhead, something of the sky still made it through the canopy, and Death could see that sunlight was starting to shine through, rays cutting through the gaps in the leaves, so that it was lighter in the forest than it had been in the open ground around the village.

It seemed like a short time, but a long journey, since they had left Annietta's village. The forest was deepening, until it was scarcely possible to leave the path the plants grew so thickly.

They were coming to the eternal lands.

Death, who had been staring ahead bleakly still despondent from his sojourn in the mortals' country, looked down at Annietta in her beautiful red dress. A good colour for her, hot and vivid. It didn't well suit her pale face, but then, he was sure she was a little less pale then she had been.

She moved.

Her arm jolted, only slightly, but it was definitely her, not the swaying motion of the horse or the gentle breeze that whipped playfully between the trees. For a moment she was still again, and then her arm started to move.

Her hand reached up, and her fingers brushed her lips. There was but the merest trace of a sigh, as from someone who had no air left in their lungs.

Then Annietta's eyes snapped open. She gasped. Then she sucked in a long, deep breath of air.

Death let go of the reins and stroked Annietta's hair. Her eyes darted wildly, before meeting his own.

'Hello. I love you, Annietta.' said Death. Annietta stared calmly into his eyes, but didn't react for a moment. Death wondered if she was fully conscious; maybe she hadn't understood what he'd said. Then she opened her mouth. For a second death thought she was going to speak, but she reached up again with her fingers, brushing them against her lips. Her brow furrowed, as if she was trying to work something out.

'I remember...' Annietta started, confused.

Death sighed, and smiled. He leaned forward, and before Annietta could react his lips were pressed against hers. Once again Death kissed her, long and deep. Then he raised his head, and asked: 'Is that what you remember?'

Annietta didn't react for a moment, then her face was lit by a wide smile. 'Yes. Yes, that it.' she said happily 'And there was music, and laughter'. Then a shadow crossed her face, and as realisation dawned she said slowly. 'I'm dead.'

'You're dead, but you're in the lands of the undying now, where death is life and life never ends.'

'My family...' Annietta started softly.

'You'll be parted from them for a while, but you will see them again.' Death explained calmly. 'But there will be people you know in the eternal lands, relatives, friends, anyone you've ever lost. And you will have me.'

'I've never seen you before, yet I feel like I know you.' said Annietta curiously. 'You seem so familiar. Wait,' she exclaimed, 'I died unmarried and unloved.' There was a strain in her voice, a slight panic. There are few things worse that dying alone - there is only so much the love of a parent or a sibling can make up for when there is no soulmate either saying farewell or waiting for you on the other side.

'Yes. But it's okay.'

'You... you're my husband.' said Annietta. And she sighed in relief.

'Yes.'

'Thank you. Thank you so much.' Annietta said earnestly. 'I remember now. In those last hours all I could think of was: what if no one comes for me? What if I'm alone forever?'

'You don't have to worry, Annietta.' Death reassured her. 'I love you.'

'But how? We've never even met? Why would you choose me?'

'Time and space are not the same for me as they are for you. I am Death, and I am boundless. I saw you take your first steps, I saw you take your last breaths, and I saw everything in between. When one of us chooses to wed a mortal, we know better than anyone what we're getting ourselves into.' Death looked deep into Annietta's eyes, and smiled. 'Besides, you're beautiful as the summer flowers in the meadow, as radiant as the golden sun of midday.'

'You know everything about me? And I know so little about you.'

'You know more than you think. Mortals never like to think of death, but the knowledge of me has always been there in your mind. Look at me now.' Death asked her. 'Tell me how you feel.'

'I think...' Annietta started uncertainly. Then she smiled. 'I think I love you.' She shook her head, and laughed. 'You seem so... good. I can't say why, but the way I feel when I look at you... it's love. I've never felt it before, but I just know it.'

Death's hand brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face, and he said, 'You'll be able to fill in the details soon, but that's enough for now. We'll be in the heart of the eternal country soon, and there we'll have all the time we need to... well, do anything we want.' And for the first time since he had left the undying lands, Death laughed. The forest was starting to open up, and beyond he could just see the endless green meadows and trees of his home. 'Just rest now. We're almost there.'

Annietta lay back, letting her husband's arm support her, and nuzzled against his chest. With the gentle rocking of the horse she could almost have fallen asleep, but she wasn't ready to slip back into unconsciousness just yet. Then a thought occurred to her.

'Wait, you saw the time that I... um... you know, with the honey and the old miller.'

'Yes.'

'And you saw the time I went down to the stream... with the dress and the...'

'Yes.'

'And you saw...' but her husband cut her off there.

'Annietta, stop. I saw it all and I still married you. If I don't bring it up, you don't have to either.'

Annietta looked up and saw that her husband was smiling, amused. 'Alright, fine. But I want to know all your embarrassing little secrets as soon as possible.'

'What if I don't have any?' said Death calmly.

Without warning Annietta reached up and pulled her husband down towards her, and kissed him fiercely. They broke apart, and their eyes locked. Annietta's grin sparkled. 'Then I'll just have to make you some, my love. I'm going to do things with you that will make even death blush.'

She kissed him again, and laughed happily, and her husband laughed with her. And their laughter and joy echoed all the way to eternity.


------ The End ------


btw, 'Annietta' is meant to be pronounced with three syllables not four, closer to 'Anyeta' than 'anni-etta'. 'Rochard' should be pronounced 'Roshard'. All other names are pronounced how they're spelt.

Looking good so far. There are a couple of grammatical mistakes here and there, though.

By the way, what's your native language? And do you ever write in it?

I'm always amazed how you peoples dish out worldbuilding on the fly more compelling than what I can produce over weeks.
I made a screencap but it seem to be too heavy even for Imgur for some reason...

>I'm always amazed how you peoples dish out worldbuilding on the fly more compelling than what I can produce over weeks.
I have my ups and downs, just like every writer.

I didn't even choose that picture to write about, I just used a random number generator. Then I sat down and wrote about it. To a certain extent, you'll get a lot further if you just sit down and write something, and keep going no matter what. In this case, it worked (well, apparently, I'm never a very good judge of my own work but you seem to like it). In other cases, it doesn't. The more tries you have the more successes you'll end up with.

...

...

Bump

...

...

bump

Can't tell if the one in left's a guy or gal. Dammit, why does such a short tomboy-soft-butch haircut's always gotta be cute but makes it hard to tell traps??

>I'm always amazed how you peoples dish out worldbuilding on the fly more compelling than what I can produce over weeks.
Not him, but here is a general piece of advice that I think most professional writers will agree on:
Don't world-build. Write. It's entirely possible that your worldbuilding will come together as you write, but trying to create a world PRIOR to creating stories to place into that world is a bad, bad idea. Think up a story. Wrap that story into a setting that enhances the story. Add detail that is relevant to the story. Think about humans, about story-related symbolism, about icons and moods: not about structures, systems, maps, histories and time-lines.

If you have some talent, or just do a fuckton of practice, this is really the only way to create good worlds in fiction. Once your story starts to grow, once it catches a life of it's own, then you can start adding depth and more complexity to the world, then you can do some world-building - but DO NOT GET CARRIED AWAY with it. I've seen so many amateur fictions, webcomics and works that were eventually ruined when the author got too bogged down in his world-building and losing track of the original story...

Safety bump before I go to sleep

...

Chapter 6: Caves

'We're almost there, but obviously we can't just walk through the gate into the city.' said Roa. 'As Ikalla has already said, I'm a wanted man. Besides, none of you have Imperial papers.'

They now stood on another hill under a darkening evening sky. The first few stars were already visible and the air was enriched by a pleasant coolness.

Ikalla said: 'It was taken away when we were abducted. I can't imagine that someone else out there is running around with the name Ikalla Haveni.'

'Hmm.' murmured Roa. Then he said: 'There are still other ways into the city. Unfortunately, it has to be said that I'm not the only one who knows about them. But at least I know a few ways in which we can use undisturbed.' He pointed downwards. 'We're going in through the caves.'

The walls of the narrow tunnel glistened with moisture. Sana held her oil lamp close. Roa held the second. Both had been hidden in undergrowth near the entrance. The small opening into the underground was nothing more than a hole in craggy bedrock near a small grove.

'Be as quiet as possible.' Roa had said to them. 'We are not the only ones in these caves.'

He had not said anything more specific, but now it was too late to ask questions. The only sound apart from their soft footsteps was the not so soft rattle of the chains on Ikalla's iron fetters.

Something like thunder resounded in the deepness far ahead of them, which moved slowly away underneath them and finally faded. They passed forks and shafts, holes in the black depths and breaks in the ceiling through which the night sky showed. But Roa seemed to know exactly where his path lay. Sana observed him, watching was he examined the walls regularly. As she went past she tried too, but there was nothing to be seen.

At one point he raised his hand and waved at her to douse her lamp. He did the same. They stood for a few moments in the darkness. Sana felt Iza press closer to her neck and grip her chest more firmly with her legs. But Sana heard nothing apart from her own breathing and her own heartbeats. A weak light flickered up and illuminated Roa's hand. It was a small gold crystal, no bigger than a thumbnail. He gave it to Sana, who took it with her free hand. He gestured to her to put the lamp down and put his finger to his lips - or at least, to his mask. Then he bent back, disappearing into the darkness, until a second crystal lit up in his hand. He pointed at Sana's hand and shut his. Then he opening it again and nodded. Sana understood and closed her fist. Sana could now only see the faint glow in Roa's hand.

He led them on again, but he was more cautious this time, Sana realised. And slower. She felt a cold breeze on her arm and goosebumps rose on her skin.

I'd prefer the tunnels in Naberu right now, thought Sana.

Suddenly a distant scream sounded in the darkness ahead of them. Ikalla's chains rattled as she flinched in fear. Sana tensed, and her senses sharpened. Another sound, but Sana couldn't place it. She had the strong desire to turn around and run back. Back into the starlight outside. She thought of the darkness directly at her back, and had the panicky feeling that something was lurking there. But she didn't turn around, just kept watching Roa's back.

Step by step, he moved forwards.

Please let's not go that way, thought Sana. But she did dare even whisper it.

After carrying on a short distance they reached what seemed to be a larger cave, at least Sana thought so since she couldn't make out the walls or ceiling. Around their little shining lights there was only darkness. And continuing silence. She followed Roa onward to a wall, which he groped along until they found another passage. She watched him bend down, illuminating something, and then he stepped into a large hole in the wall.

As she passed by, Sana briefly shone the light from her crystal down to see what it was, and recognised the bright sheen of blood. She froze, and suddenly had the feeling that countless eyes were watching them from the darkness. Iza, who had also noticed the blood now, let out a little whimper. The sound echoed from wall to wall. After the silence had returned, Sana could scarcely bring herself to move. She looked at the crystal in her hand, not daring to glance into the darkness. I want out of here, she thought. Her arm was already visibly changing.

A hand reached out of the darkness and closed around her fist. The light was extinguished, and Sana looked up at Roa, who was looking at her seriously. Sana was now trembling all over, and let Roa drag her along before she once again started following him of her own accord. Stay calm, Sana, she tried to tell herself. Stay calm.

But every sound she heard now seemed like a threat. Ikalla's chains, Roa's purposeful steps, the soft rustle of Iza's feathers. She listened to the darkness behind her. Are caves always so quiet? she asked herself.