
Neal Litherland
Bio
Neal Litherland is an author, freelance blogger, and RPG designer. A regular on the Chicago convention circuit, he works in a variety of genres.
Blog: Improved Initiative and The Literary Mercenary
Stories (338)
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The Gambling Diviner
He'd been rolling heavy all night long. No matter the odds, it was like he knew exactly which cards awaited in the deck, and which number was going to turn up when the ball was spinning round the track. No matter how much gold was on the line, though, he just sipped his drink, and waited, then collected his winnings.
By Neal Litherland10 months ago in Gamers
The Alchemist Assassin
"There is a location between the second and third lumbar that, if breached with even the tiniest of weapons, will result in a catastrophic failure of the body. The vessels in this location cannot be repaired by anything short of a miracle, and the subject will bleed out in mere moments. This location has been found in every humanoid subject that has been strapped to my table thus far, making it a best-practices priority target.
By Neal Litherland11 months ago in Gamers
The All-Seeing Eyes Of The Black Veil
In the land of darkness, a shadowy court rules over a bleak and bloody nation. Given a mandate from a dark god, these Lords and Ladies sharpen their claws on one another, while each does their part to keep their boots on the throats of the populace of their nation. For while Nidal is built on unspeakable acts, and on rites so vile they haunt the nightmares of outsiders who have witnessed them, the real glue that holds this nation together is something far more primal than magic, fealty, or faith.
By Neal Litherlandabout a year ago in Gamers
Gav and Bob Part VI: The Laughter Of A Thirsting God
“Gav, I’m telling you, I can walk,” Sheexa said, hammering her hand into his good shoulder as he ducked beneath the stone archway leading into the guard commander’s suite of rooms. The Catachan’s blow would have been enough to send any average man reeling, even numbed up on drugs as she was, but the ogryn barely felt it. Which was good for Sheexa, because if Gav had dropped her she’d have fallen half a dozen feet to the stone floor.
By Neal Litherlandabout a year ago in Fiction
The Void Priest
The mob roared, a hundred mouths all giving rise to a single cry as they raised their torches high, marching upon the hill. There were no words to that roar, and no individual voices; they were all subsumed into the single, overwhelming whole. Men and women both had become part of one beast, and that beast surged forward in search of blood. When they crested the hilltop, they found the woman they sought standing in the center of the open field, her eyes closed, and her lips moving silently in the starlight.
By Neal Litherlandabout a year ago in Gamers
The Beer Brewing Witch
The cauldron bubbled over a low flame fed by smith coals, animal bones, and hickory sticks. Elora stirred it with a clean birch staff, muttering a mantra under her breath as she kept a slow and steady pace. A cloth covered the lower half of her face, and steam rose from the noxious brew.
By Neal Litherlandabout a year ago in Gamers
Pyramid Scheme: A Leagues of Votann Story (Part One)
This is a Warhammer 40K fan story, written by Neal F. Litherland and Samuel Furlano. The jungle was an unbroken sea that stretched from one horizon to another. The canopy swayed in the breeze, a thousand shades of viridian moving in waves beneath the pattering rain squalls. Birds called to one another from the treetops, their cries echoing across the vast, green emptiness. Life teemed beneath the branches, stalking, shifting, climbing, and crawling as life and death in all their myriad forms ran in their short, endless circles. A growl reverberated through the trees, and the denizens of that place halted, raising their heads and listening. It came again, an unnatural sound filled with the gnashing of steel teeth, and the guttural growl of a low-velocity turbine.
By Neal Litherlandabout a year ago in Fiction
The Bookstalker
The frozen peaks of the Giant's Teeth were one of the most remote places on the planet. The air was thin enough that it stole the breath from your lungs, and cold enough that it froze the tears on your face. It was the furthest you could be from any other living creature.
By Neal Litherlandabout a year ago in Gamers
The Gun Moll
The idea of the gun moll is something most of us associate with black-and-white news clips, or old gangster movies. She's that girl who's sitting on the gangster's lap, usually dressed up for a night on the town. Or she's the one in the fur stole leaning against the back of the mafia don's chair, her smile as warm as her eyes are cold. But it turns out, the actual evolution of the gun moll is even older than the images we associate with her.
By Neal Litherlandabout a year ago in Gamers











