Warmth of a denHe was breathing raggedly, all adrenaline spent as the last man in front of him slipped bonelessly to the floor. When the face of the unconscious hunter landed in the soaked sawdust, the squishing noise finished bringing him back to his senses and he took a deep shuddering inspiration which he regretted instantly, the air around being saturated with various stenches, spilled wine and vomit.
The small move in front of him made him reach instantly for another of his daggers but the old man behind the counter merely smiled, putting on between them a cutlass, its blade stained and pitted with age but still impressive.
"I wouldn't if I was you, lad. I can still kick your ass if need be, so don't give me reasons."
From various corners, a few silhouettes were rising back on their feet and exiting as quietly as possible, intent on avoiding the fury of the young blond man they had just seen bring down a whole group of armed men. The room had been sparsely filled when he had entered and wa
Fond Memories How many years had it been since that day? Thalion wondered. The half-elf sighed reminiscently as he surveyed the crater. The wreckage had long since been picked clean. He felt that strange scrap of metal in his pocket that Oreyn had given him. He also had given a piece to Azyriel.Fond Memories3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mother . . . thoughts of the elf brought up memories of her beauty and warm smile. Her eyes haunted him because they were his own. He avoided mirrors because of them.
Oreyn gave the largest piece to Raina. Little Raina why did you have to let it blind you? The look of hatred on her face from Oreyn’s murder tortured his sleep. Thalion shivered and not just from the cold as he knelt down to touch the scarred scorched earth. Oreyn said the dark elf had stepped out of the flames like a phoenix. It seared her clothes away, but never touched her shadowy skin.
Thalion smiled remembering the gasps the camp would m
The Prince and the QueenThe Prince and the QueenThe Prince and the Queen3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The hooded cloak coiled around Akataras while he walked, white as the snow that fell from above. The black of mourning had not slipped from the elf's shoulders for long, before he had once again clad himself in light. Familiar pains were easier to bear perhaps, or he had found a new road, paved on the lives he had buried, that led to a more clear path.
His path was clear, but his mind and heart were not. His long and ragged brown hair was not in the style of one whose mind was settled, or heart healed. The white furs, silks and leathers he wore only warded against the frost outside, not within. The exhaustion in his eyes betrayed him, for they were as cold and as the snow beneath his feet.
He looked toward the road ahead with tired turquoise eyes, but did not truly see it. They gleamed in the moonlight and revealed more than the traveller had ever dared to share. As if he feared the moon and starlight could see his deepest secrets, he pu
Western Watch, Chapter 1, First Draft“I don’t like this,” says Merreth as she and Ammantha walk down a hallway cloaked in shadow. It’s just before dawn. Heavy velvet curtains drawn across tall windows keep out any early light. Large, stern portraits march along the opposite wall. Soft pools of yellow thrown by oil lamps set between the paintings are the only illumination. A distant clock strikes the quarter hour.Western Watch, Chapter 1, First Draft3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“We should hurry,” says Ammantha, “the footmen will be by to the check the lamps soon.”
“I know when they make their rounds,” says Merreth. “I used to try to sneak up on them when I was a child, remember?” She works short tight gloves over her fingers. They are fashioned from black leather, as are her boots, breeches, and riding vest. A coiled, ten foot whip
Her Soothing Beauty"Hasar, light!"Her Soothing Beauty3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
An angry shout and a glare was all that was needed. The boy flinched instantly and held the mirror at a different angle, making sure his master was satisfied. The light filled the room once again, sun rays reflecting on the cold surface of the mirror, dancing their way merrily upon the woman's ebony hair. Hasar stood in awe, gazing at her smooth Qarista features.
"By the Duelling Moons", he thought. "Her beauty can only be compared to that of a goddess".
The woman rolled her eyes and for a fleeting moment they shared a glance. It was then that Hasar realised he was still staring at her. The boy's cheeks turned red and he quickly lowered his eyes to the ground, looking blankly at the wooden decking of his master's studio.
He had to always remember his place when HE was around. "A servant boy is not allowed to raise his eyes and look at anyone who is his superior", the master's voice resounded in his head. And in Hasar's case, everyone, even his own m
Under a Demon Skin part 6: FinaleUnder a Demon Skin part 6: Finale2 years ago in Horror More Like This
"Oba san. You should leave too."
Naoko had waited outside the room for a few minutes but once she had been assured Kokuo was again busy with his hostage, she hadn't lost any more time, barrelling down the stairs to the house door.
"I am not going to leave her there alone."
"She is as good as dead."
Naoko couldn't afford empathy or pity for the girl now. Later, if she survived that mission, she would maybe spare a thought for the young woman and the ordeal she was going through but right now wasn't the time for that.
"Soon all the shinobis around will regroup and attack. She hasn't a single chance to escape him. Save your own life when you still can."
Naoko stopped, looking at the lined face and sighed.
"She told me she know she is going to die. I don't think she is the kind that would want you to die along her, not after what you told me. If you stay here you may jeopardize everything, including that sacrifice she is ready to make. Leave, so it won't be all in vain."
That lie esc
Lights of the FireflyLights of the Firefly2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“There ye are Mirida. Yer muther was looking fer ye.”
The elven girl gasped, nearly dropping her jar of bugs. “Gram don’ sneak up on mae like that!” Mirida scowled at the withering elven woman. Some of the insects escaped the confines of the glass and the girl tried desperately to get them back in, but her impatience afforded the rest of the bugs to go free. “Grammy!” Mirida wailed in heartbreak. She dropped the jar in defeat and looked at the fireflies float away with sad eyes. “Now I have nothin’ tae show fer the festival o’ lights,” she mumbled mournfully.
Lerune eased down on the ground to rest against an old tree trunk and patted her patchwork pant leg to coax her granddaughter over. “Ye have yer hair tae show me girl!” But before Mirida could ask what the old elf meant a small hoot greeted the night air and Lerune held out her arm for the small owl to land on. “Dnna I tell ye wha the fesrival is f
Commissioners/ commissioned: tips about good behavCommissioners/ commissioned: tips about good behaviour and good practiceCommissioners/ commissioned: tips about good behav3 years ago in Personal More Like This
I will start by saying this has absolutely no aim to be set in stone rules, it is more a compilation of various opinions and feedbacks, along with my own. I would like to extend first thanks to my friends that have helped me set this down and gave me their very valuable inputs and opinions. I do hope this will be of some help for as much people as possible. This is still a WIP, I welcome all discussions and feedback about it. Last and not least, if you want to use this, feel free to do it but please refer to me, thanks.
Finding "the" artist
When you stumble open an artist whose style you love and you wish to commission, first step as obvious as it may seem is to check if he is doing commissions and the feedback on those.
Check carefully their galleries, profile and journal about the commission's information, previous commissioners' feedback, etc.
Sometimes artists don't offer the same quality on com
In the cold Yule night/ CE SilvaraWhen dragons fly in the sky, stars shine high and brightIn the cold Yule night/ CE Silvara2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ho my lady of the blue rose, your eyes glow like twilight
Clad in light and darkness, your hair is a dream
Of night woven into amethyst, sapphire and silver beams
From your lips the song of life rise to the heaven
With the spirits you twirl, you the Goddesses chosen,
In a clearing under the cold dark sky, daughter of sun and moon
All together welcoming the new year and Nature's boon
Ho Silvara, you captured my soul in this star lit clearing
When you danced around the bonfire to welcome the year in beginning
Allow me just a touch, just a whisper, just a kiss
So I can walk away lost in eternal bliss
You're the woman eternal, the light in the shadow
Strong, gentle and merciful, you comfort those in sorrow,
The strength of the earth, the glow of the moon are your beck and call
Wielding sword and spirit both to fight, defend or enthrall
Daughter of the elves, enchantress, sister of dragons,
You carry your burden and never lose your vi
Luciana's Story: Through a child's eyesShe took her first breath, without even knowing of what her future held. Through her innocent eyes, she saw the world as it should be. Bright and happy, born into a world that cherishes her every awaking moment. She was held by the caring embrace of her mother’s arms, warm and safe and eager to explore the world and all it has to offer. Life has begun.Luciana's Story: Through a child's eyes3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Though in desperate and dark times, her mother continues to love and protect her with all her power. But still, not everything was right in the world. Chaos and sadness begins to break out all around her and all that she knew for just a moment was taken away in the blink of an eye.
Happiness was just a fleeting moment between mother and daughter, for everyone knew what the cost was of bringing a child into a world torn apart by greed. The child’s father was not a kind man and hadn’t been for such a long time. In his mind, he wanted power, but a simple wish in the wrong mind can turn i
Give the Gift of Art Overview by Your's TrulyThe results of this contest flew by without me even noticing. But I found it. And I'm glad. I wish to share it and a few of my thoughts with all of you. I may not be the wisest man on Earth, and I have a very limited view in my pocket of the universe, but maybe I can bring these gifts that other people have made, and give them to you.Give the Gift of Art Overview by Your's Truly6 months ago in Personal More Like This
The simple fact that this contest exists is a tribute to the goodness of humanity.
If you're interested, I highly recommend clicking on these pictures to see their awesome stories. Digging through all of these is like wading through a pile of brilliant gems in a forgotten treasure trove. Here are a few that spoke to me:
When I read the story and realized they weren't picking from the tree, but rather placing the fruit onto it, it hit me. It totally changed everything, and became brilliant and extremely touching. I hold nothing but the utmost respect for people like your father, and for people like you and your family. I wish
Xull'rae's perspectiveXull'rae's perspective8 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
They told me to continue my mission. I didn’t.
They told me that I succeeded in my previous one. You. That it was completed. You were born, you drew breath, and you lived. They said it was no longer necessary. You are my child, my daughter! Not an it and certainly not something to discard or forget. . . .
It was terrifying to be taken from you. They had dragged me . . . your father and grandfather earned new scars that day in my defense. . . . In the end I went with the drow I belonged to, so you could still have a safe home in Winterhaven and a family to love and look after you
They told me to stay away from him, my Sammy, your father. They told me to stay away from you, until you are of age. I failed. But only because when I left, my body went forward, but my heart stayed behind. They said you would distract me. They were right. Said you would cloud my judgment. In that they were wrong. My purpose has never been clearer.
My masked god is dead, replaced by his sister
First encounter, A and Mizako 1/4First encounter, A and Mizako 1/42 years ago in Humor More Like This
There was no mistaking the irate intent boiling under this call, echoing against the buildings on the street and she winced at hearing it.
"Yosh, what did you do this time?"
"I have no idea, Gaï."
Hearing her name called out that way, the young kunoichi had stopped dead in her tracks, visibly weighing her options. She was, more than anything, trying to determine what she could have done to elicit such audible anger from Kushina. She hadn't broken anything in weeks, hadn't burned the last meal even if the rice had been oddly clumped and too hard to chew despites her best efforts. Her room had been more or less clean, her laundry under control. What had she done? What could she have done this time, or forgotten to do? She was raking her memory, rooted on the spot, only aware of the heat of the sun hammering on her sweat dampened hair and the weight of the towel wrapped around her neck. She couldn't figure out the reason her stepsister sounded so mad.
"You know, the longer
New Hope of SpringNew Hope of Spring2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“We should stop to rest you know,” Dan’tai spoke gently, watching the drowess grow more brisk and tense the deeper they went into the forest.
Xull’rae shook her head. Red and white hair was pulled up and back into a loose bun. The armor she wore was form fitting and made of some supple leather, snakeskin perhaps? But it worried the sorcerer that she was so heavily armed. She was gloved, booted and weapons were strapped onto her belt, in sheathes. She looked like a one woman army.
“You’d look much better in a dress,” he paid her a compliment quietly.
Xull’rae threw Dan’tai an annoyed backward glance, “What sense does that make in the heart of elven territory?”
“You’d look very beautiful in something softer, and, less hostile . . .” he said with a tender soft smile.
“That is highly impractical Dan’tai,” Xull’rae said in a dismissive tone.
“Not in the way you move in them,
The Night of Cold DeathThe Night of Cold Death2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A delicate red eyebrow arched at his statement of lies and that made Xull’rae smile in a flirtatious manner, “Me lie? Truly. . . you must be thinking of some other vile drowess . . .”
She approached the half drow slowly, like a stalking hunter. Xull’rae was completely fixated on Grey. The chill air was not felt, the festivities decorations were not seen, the music and excited chatter all around her was not heard.
"I have something for you,” Grey responded. Green eyes smiled softly,” they said I killed a squirrel. It was dead when I got there, I swear...Eating animal souls is... kind of strange... It upsets my stomach." He chuckled a little at those words, hiding the morbidity of it all behind his usual humor. Neither Ulvein nor Solrac had noticed the splinters in his hands that had been the actual cause for the blood on his hands that was actually his own.
He took the bag tightly in his hands and placed it beside him, tempting her to sit with him.
Two Grapes and a Glass of spilt RacameA warm spring breeze carried the sweet, melodic laughter of Lady Rithiell to Hasar's ears as he was heading to the garden. His heart pounded vividly in his chest, forcing him to stop and catch his breath. What was it about this woman that made his arms tremble like those of a sealh's*¹, when she is paying her respects to the Mighty Wind? His shaky hands betrayed him and, to his fright, he realised he had spilt some of the wine. Several droplets were spread on the stone-covered floor, the rich aroma of fruits, sanā*² and cassia*³ filling his sinuses, while another tear-shaped drop was sliding slowly down the crystalline surface of the goblet he was holding. Hasar pulled his sleeve and wrapped the fabric around the glass, carefully wiping it clean from any remnants. He had picked the most expensive wine the master had in the manor's cellar, a bottle purchased in the city of Viya in exchange for three slaves. "Racame", the name his mother's people had given to it, "the First Blood ofTwo Grapes and a Glass of spilt Racame3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This