FFR Stories
Bio
FFR Stories is run by Will & Brian. One is a pseudonym and the other is my imaginary friend. We tend toward writing fantasy. Many of our stories will be set in the same or similar worlds of my own creation. tumblr.com/blog/ffr-stories
Stories (11/0)
Lest We Forget
We open our story today in a town, specifically the town of Dunnald. This town, like many others, had a road. It actually had several roads, but only one of them is important to us, or anyone else really. If it didn’t maintain a trade road, this town would be utterly useless, and likely wouldn’t exist. But I digress. So, we were talking about the road. And this road had several rather interesting locations on it, but for our purposes we are going to focus on one of the taverns. Bars? I don’t know, the difference seems largely pedantic. All I know about this place is they have food, they have liquor, and they have rooms for the night. Do with that information what you will. Anyhow, moving right along, this tavern-ish place called itself the Blind Frog, and for a gold coin the owner would tell you the story behind the name. But that isn’t this story. This story is set inside the Blind Frog, on the main trade road, in the town of Dunnald.
By FFR Stories6 months ago in Fiction
Red Riding Hood and the Green-Eyed Werewolf
Once upon a time there lived a young lady, beautiful and charismatic, well liked by all, known as Little Red Riding Hood, after the red cloak she always wore. She, like most thirteen-year-olds, lived with her father. He was a doting father, and showered his daughter with all the care and attention she could ever want, but he wasn’t well liked by anyone else, largely due to his profession as a knee-breaker for a local crime boss. Of course, that didn’t get him nearly as much dislike as his second job of tax collector for the local lord. This led him to be particularly crass and brash and short with everyone, except his daughter, the only person he really liked since the death of his wife. Seeing as this is a fairy tale, some may call it the inevitable death of his wife.
By FFR Stories7 months ago in Fiction
Into the Valley Gently
A long time ago, before the development of written language, or even before humans had developed any civilization beyond simple family groups, there lived a race of caretakers known only as the Druids. Their influence was widespread and lasting, even so far as to have humans create several groups in their name. With their magic, they protected and cultivated all things that were on the earth, under the leadership of Gaea, their leader. Of course, there were some among the Druids who believed that with their power they had the right to circumvent the natural order to aid their own ends, in opposition to the instruction of the goddess Delphinia. This second group was led by the one called Tellus.
By FFR Stories8 months ago in Fiction
The Midnight Hunt
Amy sat, staring at her computer. Her usually calm and collected demeanor had been somewhat disturbed, and in place of her normally professional, well-groomed appearance she was jumpy, twitchy, unkempt, and bedraggled. The computer screen was flashing the words ‘Reset Your Password’, but in lieu of the calming blue screen with white letters that she had set, the screen was black with red lettering.
By FFR Storiesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Christmas Wish
Snow fell gently to the ground that Christmas Eve as the rented van made its careful way through the winding forest road. The van was occupied by three people and was headed to a cozy rental cabin in the woods, far from the typical noise of the holidays. They hadn’t even seen anyone on the road in more than half an hour. The radio only had intermittent service at this point, and the conversation between the two friends in the van had tapered off almost an hour ago, so they had fallen into a somewhat sullen silence. The silence was broken by a singing coming from the man on the floor of the backseat, somewhat muffled by the bag that covered his head.
By FFR Storiesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Iron Box
It was early one spring morning, and the day started like any other. Orem Wilkins woke up, washed up, and put on his robes. He then ran his fingers through his hair, not smoothing it down, but going for the mad scientist look for which he was known. Once he was dressed and prepared, he left his house and walked across the dirt road as the sun was just starting to creep up. On the small but well built building was inscribed the words ‘The Professor Is’ with a sign hanging underneath it. He flipped the sign from ‘Out’ to ‘In’, then snapped his fingers, unlocking the doors with a simple act of magic.
By FFR Storiesabout a year ago in Fiction
Not Quite Neutral Ground
The Montello Zoo & Aquarium, established by the Montello family, was state of the art, with all of the newest exhibits and equipment. It was large, and clean, and bright, and cheery. Well, it wasn’t particularly bright or cheery at the moment, as it was outside of normal operating hours, but that didn’t prevent two people from meeting up inside. They approached each other warily on a catwalk above a large exhibit full of exotic ocean creatures. The catwalk was only accessible to employees, which neither of them were, but neither of them particularly cared about that fact. One of them was six foot one, and white with a deep tan. He wore a leather duster, blue jeans, a black button down shirt, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat, because he had decided that he enjoyed the old west aesthetic, and by God he was going to lean into it. The other man was a black man standing at five foot nine, with a shaved head, wearing a three piece silver suit, with a silver tie and a black shirt, and mirrored sunglasses.
By FFR Storiesabout a year ago in Fiction
Bill the Drake
This is the tale of Bill the Drake. Of course, his name isn’t actually Bill, it was Bildor-Nuwel, and in case you care he was a Fae Dragon, the most magically powerful of the Lesser Dragons, but all of the Lesser Dragons can be at least semi-accurately referred to as Drakes. He was known to help people who were lost in the woods on the mountain, and those people took to calling him as Bill the Drake, because part of his name was Bill, and he was a Drake.
By FFR Storiesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Basics of Diplomacy
As Tardwel-Ambuk awoke from a three week slumber, he stretched leisurely and let out a snort of smoke. As he stretched he took a slow look around the interior of the hollow hill that he called home. It was a single room, almost three hundred feet tall, with a roughly eight hundred foot radius that was tall enough for him to stand in, which wasn’t nearly as much as it sounds like for a creature that measures nearly two hundred feet in length from nose to tail. The walls were covered in artwork, tapestries, and bookshelves. Someone who knew these woods well might think that this hill came from out of nowhere, which is not an inaccurate assessment of events, as Tardwel-Ambuk had personally used magic to form it, and as he had grown, had used magic to reform it and make it larger.
By FFR Storiesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Path of Order
It was a bright and cheery morning that met Jeshua and Beth, with a gentle breeze blowing through the trees. The warmth of summer still lingered in the air while the breeze hinted the barest chill of the coming autumn. It was this beautiful weather that beckoned Jeshua and Beth out of their home, to take a walk through the nearby woods. There they walked, as they had many times before, hand in hand, speaking of big things and small things and sometimes nothing at all, just enjoying the closeness to each other. As they walked and talked they stole glances at each other, such as Jeshua admiring the way the sunlight dancing on Beth’s golden hair, or how Beth would watch the shadows play on Jeshua’s face. Someone observing them might mistake them for a new couple, rather than having been married for several decades. But there were no observers, in fact their walk was completely uninterrupted until the early afternoon.
By FFR Storiesabout a year ago in Fiction