The Situation Down at Radiance, part 1 by surreptitiousseagull, literature
The Situation Down at Radiance, part 1
Oh, this was bad. This was terrible. This was, in the words of wise old Varfolomey Unthank, ‘a gigantic effing mess’. When she’d signed up for this gig, Eira had expected shining rows of Aether Guard spellswords advancing on the enemy, their brave, armoured dragons soaring majestically overhead. Maybe learn a little more about that cool magic they always talked about having. At the very least, an easy job she could clock in, clock out, no questions asked. No such luck. She actually had to start putting in effort to earn her pay. Oh, the horror! “C’mon!” she snarled, ramming herself horns-first into a squealing sapiere. Her nictitating membrane flicked over her eyes as her foe clawed at her, spitting its burning venom in her face, but she braced her shoulders and shoved back. She leaned her whole body weight in that shove, pushed it off-balance, then onto its side, and kept it there until a uniformed Aether Guard could come along and put it down for good. For some mysterious reason
Call to Action by surreptitiousseagull, literature
Call to Action
‘So, let me just make sure I’m understanding this right.
A primeval force of evil looms on the gates of Sol,
‘It managed to possess the most powerful sorceress this side of the continent,
‘It can raise the dead,
‘And yet, you thought I was the best bird for the job?’
Decima and Prendergast looked at each other, then back at Jamba. “Yeah. That about sums it up.”
The raptor grunted and turned back towards the snowy wood. ‘You’ve got the wrong raptor. I’m retired.’
“You’re an immortal spirit of the hunt. You literally couldn’t retire if you tried.”
‘Well, in my defence,’ Pioghaid said, watching as Sargas ran around screaming with his tail on fire, ‘the Dog Star was in retrograde today.’
‘I don’t care about your excuses, whelp. Fix this right now, or so help me, I will turn you back into stardust.’
Pioghaid stuck her tongue out at Thuban and floated over to the dark blue emperor. She waited until he’d circled back around to her, then she dumped the bucket of water in her claws and drenched him from head to toe.
“Brrgglllbll,” Sargas gasped aloud, lifting up his tail to inspect the damage. With all the water soaked into his fur,
Here Be Aemons by surreptitiousseagull, literature
Here Be Aemons
They called it Terra Incognita: The unknown land. It covered about fifteen acres of dead, rocky ground, exactly like every other patch of scorched earth down in the Below, yet it’d resisted all attempts at emperor settlement for decades. Arcturus had put it off for as long as she could, but with pressure mounting from the rest of the flight, she finally agreed to send another expedition to try again.
Clearly, two youngsters who’d barely learned to float straight were the best dragons for the job.
“Oh this is so exciting,” Ferran said, drifting over the jagged rocks and bones with a lilt in his float. Behind him trailed
Making Your Mark by surreptitiousseagull, literature
Making Your Mark
EXT. SOL BACKSTREET - NIGHT
A shady back alley somewhere in Outer Sol. Most of the
windows are dimmed or boarded up, except for one at the
farthest end. A sign above the door reads 'Hot Cocoaholics
Then, the door is thrown open, and an unseen force kicks
MARK, a suspiciously furry, cloven-hoofed figure in an ugly
Christmas sweater, onto the street.
COCOAHOLIC MEMBER (O.C.)
How many times do we have to teach you
this lesson, old man? Stop bringing
hot cocoa to a cocoa addicts' support
Mark picks himself up off the ground. He brushes cookie
The Ones Left Behind by surreptitiousseagull, literature
The Ones Left Behind
Parents will always love their children… never has a more bullshit statement ever been uttered.
“Over here!” growled a voice, and Melike, sitting atop Merle Noir, turned her head. An eye blinding cyan and magenta stalker was digging through a pile of rubble, and through the sounds of crunching brick and plaster, the companion thought she could hear a weak, muffled cry.
The three of them had come here, to the former-town of Langsham, on behalf of the Frigid Search and Rescue Corps, a non-profit organisation specialised in mountain rescues and post-avalanche aid. Unfortunately, they’d recently had to turn their skills to