Fantasy
Hero of Dayne
The noxious perfume of smoke, blood and dank cavern floods the giant chamber ahead. Lanky mottled-gray monsters sit surrounding a massive bonfire. Their throats reverberate with a cicada-like buzz at ear-splitting volume. Their too-large milky eyes stare transfixed upon the licking tongues of crimson flame, their razor-sharp claws digging into the cavern’s slick floor. One rises, lumbering into the shadows beyond the firelight. Returning, dragging a man by his hair, the monster tosses him onto the fire with ease. Gut-churning screams join the cacophonous din as a tower of black smoke drifts up toward a tall ominous statue, a pleasing sacrifice to their monstrous god.
By S.N. Evans4 years ago in Fiction
The Colony
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Today, though, was a different story. As Jasper made his way through the desolate Merrimack Valley’s desert, one of those beasts emerged from the sky and blocked his passage. He was expecting to arrive at a colony, not encounter one of them.
By BPDCupcake4 years ago in Fiction
The Search for Dragons
"There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, but we were faced with a desperate situation." I raised my voice to capture their attention. Now, the patrons of the pub were hanging on my every word, with curious, eager eyes. I ate it up. I had come to the village of Sumax, halfway up Desert Peak Mountain. I continued, "Our land, Morax, of the Salovian Valley, is the most fertile on the continent, no offense to you fine people." I looked around the room, mostly seeing shrugs or vacant stares. I heard a few snickers. Fairly certain I hadn't truly offended anyone, I went on, "As you probably know, most of our neighbors trade peacefully, but we must be vigilant for those who wish to take Morax by force. A month ago, marauders came from the south with ill intent. We fought them off at great expense.
By Julie Lacksonen4 years ago in Fiction
The Valley Of The Tempest And The Void
There weren't always dragons in the Valley, but there have always been spiders, in the cool dark places where one would seek out shelter from the heat of afternoons spent on frivolous and anxiety ridden waves of silly behaviours. Hunting for Sport instead of need, glaring at people with haughty or insolent expressions, stealing into peoples dwellings as a sneak thief to snatch away jelously guarded treasures, brawling with life and a community for no real gain that means anything. Any feelings of dissatisfaction, disapproval, or disappointment are shrugged off with a "Hey, but you know, it's ME" expression. Said expression is humorous for a minute , and then makes someone feel like a fool for letting that one get passed you. Those dark recesses,though, are home to beings that do not tarry with frivolous nor silly behaviours............
By Roy Whipple4 years ago in Fiction
Dragons Among Us
There weren't always dragons in the valley. It used to be a quiet little grove, with a quiet little village in the center. Life was filled with hardworking days and uneventful nights filled with the songs of crickets in the trees. Until, that is, the wizards started to come out of the big cities to avoid the plague that was spreading like wild fire. We opened the doors to our taverns, inns, and homes. They were guests and were welcomed as such.
By Nikki Greco4 years ago in Fiction
The Great Spring II
Flowers don't heal suffering any more than the rain can prevent a wildfire. Digging through a mottled corpse, mangled from anxieties and past memories made real by fear and brought back to life by shame and sorrow is not how I pictured my post pandemic life, and yet, here I am. Rebuilding pieces of what I thought was at one time a capable pile of bones.
By A.T. Baines4 years ago in Fiction
Dragon Speaker
There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley, or so the stories go. There wasn’t always fear and hatred so thick it was as if you walked through molasses everywhere you went. There weren’t always fires on the mountains, and missing live stock. There weren't always empty houses, and vacant eyed people. These are the stories the Elders love to tell, though to be honest I don’t think that they are even old enough to remember a time before.
By Diandra Daulton4 years ago in Fiction
The Shattered Sky
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Just like the color green hadn’t always been forbidden, exploring the mountain sides wasn’t taboo, and questions weren’t punishable. The elders spoke of times before the shattering of the sky. In hushed tones they told of times when the skies were blue, the sun shone yellow, and the meadows of the valley were lush and green. A spring had babbled through the valley meadow bringing fresh mountain water to the sheep and people. They told of times the village was alive with noise and happiness; buzzing with idle chatter, laughter, and singing.
By Jenifer Majerus4 years ago in Fiction
