Adventure
Everburn
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. These words, repeated so often, had lost any real meaning. They were the typical start to fairy tales and children's stories, fanciful delights and adventures. When someone said, "There weren't always dragons in the Valley," you could prepare yourself to sit back, relax, and be entertained for a short while. These words were an escape from the harsh reality of life. Until the day these same words brought an even harsher truth crashing down.
By Adam Williams4 years ago in Fiction
Epitaph Men
There weren’t always dragons in the valley, read the inscription. It a curious way to end an epitaph, thought Oldebirk Bradagast as he traced the line of the chiselled letters with his one good finger. But the ancient Menana men of the peninsula often wrote tangential trivia into their carvings. It was generally surmised that this was to keep the reader interested. A reward of knowledge given to the intrepid scholars who posessed the stamina to ascend the mountains of onerous biography compiled in each of the memory stones.
By Tom Alexander4 years ago in Fiction
The Beginning of an End
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. That was before the Collision. Before the Ancient Societies of Old were knocked back to a meek existence, having to scrape by until relearning how to stand again. The Collision had brought magic to this world, and with it, the dragons. The dragons that roamed Teardrop Valley nowadays, were not like the Greats. They were descendants of those colossal dragons that emerged after The Collision. Almost all of the Greats had been hunted down; to be captured or killed for trophy. It was said that only two remained free in existence, but they were rumors. Now, the biggest of the dragons that were a part of common life here in the Valley were no bigger than a small hill and carried very little innate magic.
By K. M. Ecklund4 years ago in Fiction
Dragon King
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. And I know what you're thinking, “well why is there now?” And of course, I have to respond that that is simply a silly question. The bigger question is, why didn’t, there used to be dragons in the Valley? And the answer is simple, Porter. I know… I know… I promise I will explain it all, but suffice to say, Porter kept us dragon free, and we didn’t even know it till the townies drove him away.
By Jereen Laferriere4 years ago in Fiction
Relics of Avandorn
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. As a boy, Soren remembered walking these paths countless times. Lush green grass beneath his feet, golden sunlight peeking through the trees below a crystal blue sky, and fresh air in his lungs. Now, the ash on the ground was up to his ankles. The blackened dead trees reached upward like emaciated fingers toward a sickly yellow, cloud covered sky. And the air was heavy with smoke and fog that made every breath a struggle to not cough and retch.
By Trevor Tomlinson4 years ago in Fiction
Coffin Crawling
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There wasn’t much of anything in the valley before. Ribcage it was called, with narrow bony spurs of dry rock bursting from its sides it looked like the desiccated corpse of some great beast, sunken and withered from centuries in the hot dry sun. But then Ry’Quel the conqueror (or Ry’Quel the dumbshit as he’s affectionately known in the Tsibiltar drinking dens) found the heart and everything changed. Except the name, Ribcage stuck.
By Joseph T Bugbee4 years ago in Fiction
There Be Dragons
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Jessamine Bell climbed each step holding to that hope, that today was such a day. She kept a steady rhythm to her steps. Her footfalls, echoing and re-echoing, were the only sound that came to her ears. Except for the light of her candle lantern, the tower’s stairwell was black as pitch.
By David Farschman4 years ago in Fiction
Demon Heart
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Countless abominations have scoured what is now known as the Crimson Scar. The Scar is deep and blanketed in a vast forest. It is said the archangel Ouriel could no longer allow Hell to run rampant in the world of Vaross. So she plunged her spear so deep into the earth it pierced Hell itself. While the nightmares of Hell could trickle into the world, so too could Varossians now invade Hell. Where such monsters prowled, so too must hunters rise to meet them. So, the men and women of Vaross hunted and adapted to whatever horrors Hell spit out, claiming the Hearts of their prey. So much blood has been spilled over the years, that the Scar itself now thrives on it, harboring a desperate and insatiable hunger for more.
By Clayton Moyer4 years ago in Fiction
