It's Friday, so I guess that means it's time for another Storythread. Are we all ready to write our hearts out and post useful feedback for others? Well, whatever, we're doing this anyway.
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 you may want to head over to the dedicated 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.
I've written a couple of short stories and published them through Amazon, but I'm wondering if anons know of any other ways I can distribute my content without needing to print copies?
Connor Cook
>published them through Amazon How has that worked out for you? (also, link?)
>other ways I can distribute my content without needing to print copies? I guess there are still sci-fi magazines that publish short stories, either online or in print. You might have to give up some of the copyright of your work, though.
I think I'll give magazines and sites a look. I know 2000AD is having open submissions and submitted a script for that. It would make sense for there to still be other stuff out there.
Magazines and such are also attractive. While I personally want control of the series I'm linking, I'm not above knocking out content that the publisher has complete control over.
Luke Williams
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Cooper Turner
I've been writing short stories about my warband in preperation for an upcoming Mordheim campaign set on our group's custom donutsteel 40K planet.
---
AMONG THE RUINS (Part 1)
Smoke Jaguar was feeling nervous, although his hard jaw did not betray that fact.
It was almost time.
He stepped into the sooty hovel and blinked away the acrid vapours of burning herbs and fungus. An older man sat cross-legged behind the firepit.
“Child” the old man said. Smoke Jaguar was long since past his Naming and had an impressive number of captures in battle. If anyone had called him child now, he would be quick to have his heart out and eaten. Anyone but an old man. This old man was an Elder, and you don’t become an Elder by being an idiot or cowardly.
“Child, come. Sit.”
Smoke Jaguar sat cross-legged on the hard packed dirt floor and faced the Elder. He was a withered old man. Wrinkled and brown and folded over and over himself. But his eyes shone like emeralds in the firelight and revealed a sharpness that cut right through Smoke Jaguar. It made him feel like a child, if he were honest.
“The Great Sand blow across our great land. It is too hot to hunt. Too hot to farm, my child. It is time.”
---
(cont)
Ryan Myers
With that, he threw a handful of green dust into the fire, and it exploded in a vibrant jade flare that blinded Smoke Jaguar, leaving a white disc in the centre of his vision. The fire settled, burning a sickly green colour.
“Breathe deep of this smoke, child. Let it give you strength to follow out your pilgrimage. Go, child. Go and find the green stone. Traders and trappers have told us of a mighty green stone that fell from the heavens. It lays in the heart of the Great Sand. You must get the stone. You must bring it to us. You must fulfil your duty. Your destiny. Our prophecy.
His head lolled back and he began to chant. A deep, throaty, resonating chant. Smoke Jaguar knew it well. It was the chant you sung before battle. A prayer to warn the gods that mighty warriors will soon be arriving at the Great Sky Temple, to feast on blood and meat and drink deep of the water of the sky. A heralding for the fallen brave.
When the chanting ended, sometime later, Smoke Jaguar left. The sun was rising, and he felt energetic. The anxiety and the green stone dust, no doubt. And whatever plants and mushrooms the fire was built from. It all gave him a sort of heady, fuzzy elation.
He made his way across the rusting scraps and chipped stone to the centre of his village. In the shadow of the giant rusting mountain of a pyramid that loomed over the landscape, Smoke Jaguar and his sortie made their way in silence down the main path, and into the rotting toxic mud of the swamp that surrounds the rusting pyramid for hundreds of miles in every direction. As they picked their way through the puddles and pitfalls and through the jutting girders and deep cut scars of the swamps, they all had just one thing in mind.
Find the stone.
Christian Nelson
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Colton Perry
bump
Blake Lopez
Legend has it that in addition to Shem, Ham, and Japheth, the biblical Noah also had a fourth son, and this son was a complete wiseass. He was continually interrupting construction of the ark, telling Noah all the things he was doing wrong, and how stupid that was. Noah finally had enough and chased him off with a piece of wood, and that's why we don't read of him today. But when the rains came, the lad was ready with a small vessel of his own. He brought in his wife, two pigs, and two sacks of potatoes, and boasted that he would sail beyond sin. The winds and the waters carried them north, and eventually they made landfall, and began to populate that land. But the waters never fully receded from that island, and that's how Eire remains to this day. -retold from the lays of Finn mac Cool.
Lucas Evans
"Alexander, come look at this."
"What's up?"
"Look at this thing."
"Woah, what is this?"
"I don't know, but it's pretty."
For ten minutes they stare at the screen. After engorging themselves, the pair return to scavenging.
Kevin Gomez
Bump
Asher Brown
Been working on a medium fantasy setting in which the protagonists are two Wood Elf ambassadors who go to the Human capital to establish better relations between the two. Without going in to a lot of detail the humans wanted to expand and harvest resources from the Wood Elf homeland, they wouldn't let them, so they went to war and the humans ended up burning a majority of the forest out of spite cause they couldn't win. Wood Elves presumed extinct, but really just in shambles and replenishing slowly due to their biology, but a small expedition to the remains of the forest result in contact with the Elves and they are invited to the human capital.
I have an idea of where I want this to go, but I'm not sure how generic the idea is or if the conflict to come will be predictable. Basically one of the ambassadors is kidnapped and the other thinks this journey was a trick by the humans, but neither the king nor the envoy knows who or why the other elf was kidnapped. It turns out there is a rebel group that still hold on to old beliefs installed by the father of the current king, who is more progressive (hence the treaty with elves, as they are generally looked down upon and seen as savage). This rebel group intends to reignite the war between humans and elves so they can essentially completely exterminate the Wood Elves, but this fact isn't immediately clear. The rebels also have other goals, such as either assassinating or deposing the king and installing a new one more in line with their political beliefs.
Its not completely original but that's okay, if the characters are strong then the simple story will help deliver the drama more clearly. You have anything committed to paper?
Julian Taylor
No spuds in Ireland until the Age of Sail user
Otherwise there's some cool stories in the Lebor Gabála Érenn to this effect you might enjoy working from or using as inspiration
Lucas Hughes
Previous thread kill and a new one already???
Damn, I was about to repost my story again from previous thread and try to finish it up. But just when I was about to, my mom and dad called me out saying we're gonna be leaving in a few minutes.
Well here's to hoping I'll finish my story by this thread. BRB tommorow I guess?
Isaiah Lopez
Since you don't want to write in Spanish, can you tell me what you like reading in Spanish? My Spanish is good enough now that I'm progressing past simple exercises into reading normal Spanish. Are there Spanish language fanfiction sites?
>Previous thread kill and a new one already??? Every two weeks dude, same as normal
Evan Butler
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Connor Rivera
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Josiah Anderson
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Mason Gomez
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William Gomez
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Lincoln Ross
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David Rogers
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Oliver Powell
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Luis Nelson
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Blake Powell
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Angel Phillips
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Brody King
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Robert Price
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Carson Peterson
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Noah Barnes
I've always liked the idea of domestic monster girls/boys.
Joseph Garcia
This is an actual myth included in myth collections of Finn mac Cuhal, as well as a barroom tale told in Irish pubs. Today I just wanted to be a storyteller rather than a story writer, short, fun, and bumps the thread.
Sebastian Powell
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Gabriel Rogers
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Asher Scott
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Xavier Torres
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Jeremiah James
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Cameron Anderson
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Jack Bailey
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Connor Turner
The jail cell as already rather packed with some of the lowest of the low in the city. It was pretty clear that these people were all dangerous folk. Murderers, thieves, drug dealers; all their names showed up on the nightly news in one way or another, and each of them was bound to stay here for a long time. Honestly, they didn't even need to say anything to show who they were - not when their bodies were adorned in all sorts of tattoos identifying their preferences, their allegiances, even their names.
Each of these men were cold, hardened killers who could murder a man without even blinking. Each of them practically deserved their position in this cell and if anyone ever questioned that, they would fight to the death just to prove themselves.
However there was one man who was unlike the rest. He bore no tattoos and wore glasses. Rather than wife-beaters and jeans, he wore a simple dress-shirt and slacks. Despite his unassuming appearance though, the rest of the inmates made sure to keep away from him. Everyone around him only spoke in hushed whispers.
One of the newer inmates decided one day to finally ask the big question: Why was this ordinary person here? None of the inmates ever talked to the ordinary man, and none of them wanted to. Something about him made them all terrified.
That didn't stop the inmate from asking though. >So...what'd you do to get in here? >You know how microtransactions are mandatory for practically every game? How it requires over $200 to get everything? Yeah, that was me. I gave EA that idea. Now they rule the earth, owner of all entertainment. Owner of all of America. They even own Disney now. And now, now that I see what I created...I'm the worst criminal of them all.
Alexander Jenkins
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Ryder Miller
this may sound harsher than I mean it too, but has anyone actually bought either of these?
Just curious about how viable e-publishing actually is
Aiden Walker
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Elijah Morgan
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Christopher Gomez
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Anthony Howard
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Mason Garcia
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Zachary Hill
Bump
Elijah Bennett
You walk down the fall, normal day, boring, loud and stressful, you go down the usual corridors and streets, passing same shops and lampposts, but today, something was off... You noticed a wending machine bump as you go by... You take a look seeing something move inside. At first it looked like a toy, but then you notice fog on the glass as thing inside was breathing... Tiny red reptile with horns and wings sat inside, wining as it saw you. You can't help but to step closer and see it look at you with big eye's. You soon noticed that it's price was listed as 2 €. After finding few coins in your pocket it seems you could pay for it....but will you but this tiny odd dragon?
Daniel Rogers
I could try writing about those, after all I did work on such setting recently
Adrian Williams
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Evan Cook
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Bentley Anderson
Ya gotta eat da booty like groceries
Ian Moore
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John Ortiz
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Adam Hernandez
"One more of the fuckers..." sniper puts down the rifle in the snow, peering though the scope. Soon the trigger is pulled and shot fires... Few second later, one more body lands in the snow. "When will those fuckers learn, ushankas don't stop bullets." he then stands up and continues the trek across the snow, as half kilometer away a russian lays dead in the snow, his brain spilled all over the precious mech suit...
Josiah Scott
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Isaiah Jenkins
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Luke Nelson
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Nathan Morgan
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Grayson Cooper
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Julian Butler
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Connor Hughes
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Jacob Hall
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Angel Cox
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Robert Fisher
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Caleb Wood
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Brody Howard
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Luke Gomez
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Jaxson Lopez
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Gavin Gomez
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Brayden Reyes
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Connor Nguyen
Bump
Chase Russell
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Cameron Barnes
bump
Samuel Torres
bump
Zachary Parker
pictureless bump
Joshua Hernandez
Hmm... seems like Veeky Forums isn't accepting image uploads at the moment.
Gentlemen, I don't want to alarm you, but we may actually have to write some stories to keep the thread going.
Luke Thompson
I am aware of the story of Cessair user. I've never seen a version with potatoes because they weren't in Ireland until the mid 1500s.
Regarding the Lebor Gabala Erenn was just suggesting some other material you could work from if you were to do more work based on the imramma.
Anthony Morales
DUMBLEDORE!
Chase Butler
>writing >in a story thread Umm, no? bump
Carson Diaz
I can try, user. Any body got a particular theme they want explored or do I just kinda go at it, never been in one of these before.
Leo Hughes
Just post whatever story user.
Good night anons. Imageless bump this thread throughout the night.
there's some kind of popup thing asking me to sign in, which im too lazy to do, but right off the bat Cerce annoys me as a name. My first that is "how the hell do I pronounce this?" and my second is "Oh, is it like Cersei from ASoIaF?" It's easy to get bogged down obsessing over character names but if you do it for no one else, at least the MC should have a good deal of thought put into name-selection
Joseph Collins
You cough a little as you stand, pulling yourself onto your feet, your body desperately trying to eject the dust from your lungs. Your lantern lays on the ground among some rubble, it's flickering flame making the shadows dance against rough stone wall. Reaching down, you pick it up, the old handle squeaking a little as you do so. Inspecting your surroundings, your heart sinks a little - nothing but dry stone, same as it has been for the last few miles down - and, looking up, a significant hole in the cieling where you fell down. You quickly check yourself over for injuries - everything feels more or less fine, nothing more serious than a few bruises or scrapes; nothing to worry about just yet. Spinning around on your heels, you can make out another passageway for this cave system; no sense sitting around here. With a crunch of stone beneath your feet, you continue onwards, the lantern barely lighting your way. The entire place smells oddly damp, the same kind of feeling you get on a muggy afternoon, and as you turn your body to squeeze down the passages you listen carefully for the drop of water from stalactites. Focusing a little, cutting out all sound, ignoring your own heartbeat, you can hear... running water? Furrowing your brow, you step out into a wider passage, ducking under a low hanging rock, holding your lantern up and extending your arm so it's light goes just a little further. Ahead, reflecting a little light, is some kind of plant matter; something that shouldn't exist this far down as far as you know. You set your lantern down gently, it's metal base clinking against the stone, and you approach the vines that block the exit. Each one is about as thick as your arm, and when you lay your hands on them, they have a strange rubbery texture - oddly smooth, tough. You catch glimpses of what lays beyond as they move to your actions - and you can see, beyond them, light. A soft, blue glow, coming from beyond.
Juan Allen
You brush the vines aside, putting in more effort than you thought you'd have to, and take in the sight before you. There are mushrooms and lichen rising as tall as trees would above. You look skyward, and can only see a swirling grey mist - who knows how high this cavern goes? The sound of rushing water is louder hear, and your eyes follow your ears - sure enough, a small river flows nearby, it's waters moving over rocks and curving a little even from here. The most striking feature is the odd light everything here is emitting - the soft blue glow comes not from some ethereal source, but from the plantlife itself. From the heads of these mushrooms is the same comforting blue glow you saw earlier - their very skins alight with it, like the moon in the night sky. Their "trunks" are a slightly off-white, with more of that blue glow coming from under the surface, tracing it's way up like veins on any living thing. The lichen are much the same way, their edges giving off a soft glow, the light colouring the slight mist in the air when you look close enough. Even the river seems alive with a swirling light, giving off the radiance like it was a flow of moonlight itself.
Jeremiah Rogers
Pushing the vines aside and stepping in, you can feel the ground is no longer rocky terrain - the sound is muted now, and looking down you see that plant-life and moss have grown underfoot, like a very loose analogy for grass. As you step further into the place, you can see life gently buzzing from place to place, everything taking it's time to drift from mushroom head to the floor, or over to the reed-like plants growing from the river bank. Everything here has a remarkable stillness the surface has lacked - doubly so since more modern times. A breeze stirs your hair the slightest amount, and spores move with it, catching onto your clothes for a little while before drifting away on the winds. You can amke out a nearby rock wall from here, looking jagged and hostile up above, but down by the floor and a few feet over head height, it's smooth and inviting - as if carved and sanded down by a craftsman. The smell of this place starts to get to you - it's like the damp smell you picked up earlier, but now it's somehow more refined, more palletable - like freshly mown grass on a dewy morning. Not altogether unpleasant. You walk toward the river bank, your eyes growing more adjusted to the cool lighting of the area. Your attention is caught by the soft buzzing off a group of insects a little ways off, each giving off a pinprick of brighter light than their surroundings; stars shining bright against their tapestry. At first, you think them to be a group of fireflies - upon looking a little closer you can see they are more akin to dragonflies. Along their bodies are spots with those same incandescant qualities as the plant life, small lines connecting them in symettrical patterns.
James Adams
You sit down on the riverbed, and reach a hand down to the waters - it's refreshing against your skin, the surface of the water parting gently around your fingers and sending ripples downstream for a short while. You cup your hand and bring the water to your mouth, taking an experimental sip. It feels like water in all respects - a little sweeter perhaps? Either way, it leaves your throat in a little better state than before. You sigh, and take a moment to appreciate the landscape. There certainly aren't enough materials for anyone to make a settlement down here, and getting here alone was difficult enough. So here it remains, tucked away by the land, untouched by the iron hand of civilisation; a small haven of nature below to the increasingly unnatural world above.
Angel Gomez
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Aaron Sullivan
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Julian Allen
It's a name from Greek mythology, pronounced 'Sir-See'.
The Game of Thrones character is 'Seer-Say', but they have a lot of trouble getting their own characters pronunciation right on that show
Gabriel King
I first read those books from one of those bookmobiles when i was like 9. Bunch of totally naked women, with far too explicitly described tits and pubic hair, dancing and getting chained up. Quite an effect on me.
