Bastian Falkenrath
Bio
I've been writing since I was eleven, but I didn't get into it seriously until I was sixteen. I live in southern California, and my writing mostly focuses on historical fiction, sci-fi, and fantasy. Or some amalgamation thereof. Pseudonym.
Stories (49/0)
600 AD - Session Zero
This series will be following, as best I can recall, the events that took place during a D&D campaign that I very much enjoyed. It has been on hiatus for a while now due to various real-life events that have kept the group from continuing, but we all have a decent amount of hope for the future, and in the meantime I should at least be able to piece together the events that happened so far. In this post I'll be going over the basic layout of information from the start of the campaign, as well as the information regarding the character that I played.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
"Camouflage" (Roman Version)
So, like most parties, in this campaign, we were not in a modern setting. We were in a D&D 5e Fantasy version of the Roman Empire, circa 600AD. Also like most parties, we ended up making a decent number of references to more modern entertainment. The first time that I did it actually even made it into the campaign as something Bastian ended up singing one night - not so much to the party, but more to himself while he was bored. Lead to some interesting interactions. That'll come later as I go through his journal entries.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Post-Universe Clarity
An entire universe had ended, only to be reborn in others. People, places, things, all scattered about and mixed throughout the multiverse. It had not been so clean as the party had envisioned it to be - the forces of the multiverse at large were swayed little - and yet so very much - by actions in one. Yet somehow, after it was all said and done, things had gone back to an almost jarring amount of regularity. He, his ship, and his crew; all were back where they belonged. Back to their home universe. Back to the seas that they had made and lost fortunes sailing. As if it had never happened.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 15
Chapter Fifteen The Suburban suitably loaded, Lea and James were collected by Timothy, and we convened in the parking lot to discuss the plan. It was a straightforward talk, and for likely the first time since we’d all begun working together to survive, there were no arguments. We all knew that this mission was important, and that this time we needed to be serious. There would be no laughing, or horsing around, or any sort of nonsense this time. The day before Chien and I had slain a great number of the living dead in the area, and while we hoped that this would mean their numbers would be relatively low… there was no way in which to be certain. In truth, the gunfire echoing through the city might have attracted even more of the foul creatures than had actually been there upon our arrival last time. Time would tell. We certainly hoped for less.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 26
Chapter Twenty Six A couple of hours had passed since I spoke with Alice, and in that time I had retreated to the cafeteria. Most would assume that it was for something to eat, and knowing me that probably wouldn’t have been a bad assumption. However, it was – at present – incorrect. Rather, I had ventured there for some peace and quiet. It was something that I rather liked having, and something that I had not been granted in the last few days. On top of that, I needed to get some practice time in for my swordsmanship. First though I would meditate – and yes, I really did this. Of course, it wasn’t mandatory, but it did help me quite a lot. Finding ‘inner peace’ was a grand use of time – it kept the mind clear and the emotions on the level.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 13
Chapter Thirteen The horde outside Sweet’s house was thick, but James knew that to test this effectively he’d have to make his way through the crowd of flesh eating creatures. Torch held above his head and forward, he walked toward the horde carefully, moving as quietly as he could. He soon neared the first one and held the torch before it. A grin spread across his lips as it leaned back and turned from the flame; heading away from the source of heat. Just as he’d thought, its instincts told it that fire was dangerous. He soon did it to another couple of zombies, much to the same effect. Without the ability to see, they couldn’t tell the difference between a torch and a blazing inferno. With a grin, he looked back to the door and pointed to Lea before motioning for her to come out.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 14
Chapter Fourteen A few silent moments passed after Lea left the office to talk to James. We all knew why he was upset, and Chien and I both knew that under any other circumstances this would have likely put us on edge as well. Burning bodies as a fuel source? It was entirely morbid, there was no way around that, but we had to think about survival first and cultural norms second. In a manner, people that grew up in first world nations were, for the most part, used to bodies being treated with a great deal of respect and care after death. To westerners especially, death was something that was feared and shied away from. It frightened us and sent shivers down our spines. The very sight of a human corpse was usually unnerving – at the least.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 31
Epilogue You know how people say that they hate Mondays, and that they hate Sunday because they know Monday is coming? Well, for us, for the first time, that was switched around. We were happy to see Monday, because it meant Sunday was over. With one man dead, the loss of ammunition and equipment, and the fact that Wal-Mart was now completely overrun with hordes of zombies… our mission had gone from being a bust to being an utter and complete clusterfuck. The addition of two skilled warriors was a plus, but even they were now down a weapon and ammunition thanks to the events.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 30
Chapter Thirty “James!” Only a single word of Lea’s message made it through before a piece of buckshot destroyed the hand held radio. Throwing the shattered device away, James fired off his last two shots as he ran around a corner, having lead the Viking nearer to the front of the store, where the food aisles were. Just around the corner he waited, knowing that the blond would be close behind. As soon as he came around the corner, the muzzle of the shotgun was jammed into his abdomen. The pursuing young man dropped the sawed-off shotgun, and a flick of James’ eyes to the side let him see that it hadn’t yet been reloaded – meaning it was totally useless to him. Thus, as a follow up to his initial strike James went for a butt-stroke across his opponent’s jaw. Unfortunately for him, the blond grabbed the butt of the shotgun to stop it and kicked him hard in the thigh – giving him a wicked Charlie-horse.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 29
Chapter Twenty Nine A few moments later we found ourselves inside the abandoned store; greeted only by silence and the sickeningly sweet scent of death. The interior was somehow both calming… and a complete fucking horror show. There were no zombies in sight, but we weren’t about to let our guard down just yet. There were corpses littering the floor of the store in every direction that we looked, though it appeared that most of them were right near the front. The plague had swept through and the infection had spread just like it had done at P.M.A. – the people at the front hadn’t stood a chance. A few more detailed looks around and we found that the Customer Services section at the front was clear, as were the restrooms, the checkout, and the McDonald’s that was there at the front of the store.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 12
Chapter Twelve The Suburban was a large vehicle, and without the back seats it had as much space, if not more than, a pickup truck of the same size. That meant that there was going to be a lot of room for weapons and ammunition – along with any food and water we happened to grab. Most of what was in Big 5 was junk food, but food was food, and why not treat ourselves a little? After all, we had survived this long, weren’t likely to die any time soon unless we fucked up, and that didn’t seem all that probable. There were also energy drinks, water, Gatorade, etcetera in there… which meant that we had a source of something to drink that wasn’t just tap water we had put into old milk jugs, water and soda bottles, and whatever else we could fill up.
By Bastian Falkenrath2 years ago in Fiction
