Hank Ryder
Bio
Author of the Triskelion Saga, a Gamelit adventure series releasing soon on the Mythril Fiction app.
Stay tuned for more!
Stories (16/0)
Embers of Defiance
Morning broke over the rolling green hills of fair Cyphrol and the warm rays of the rising sun cast long shadows beneath Lyrigor’s massive form. The great red dragon eyed his target; a small out-of-the-way kingdom that lay unprepared for what loomed over its eastern horizon.
By Hank Ryderabout a year ago in Fiction
Why Then Do We Scream?
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But you can feel it... That cold pit in your chest as all the blood races to your extremities, preparing you for a fight. That shiver that radiates from your spine and raises goosebumps everywhere it touches.
By Hank Ryder2 years ago in Psyche
Coldspark
There weren't always dragons in the Valley, or so I'm told. Yet every night I dream of them sleeping in the ashes of our ancestral villages. Their scales glinting in the wavering firelight as they curl into circles, backs to the large campfires they construct each evening, and let the warmth soak into their hide and soothe them to sleep.
By Hank Ryder2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - May 2022
Hey MomTop Story - May 2022
Hey Mom. I never told you this before, but... I met someone. We have started a beautiful relationship that has already lasted eight years. She and I are growing and living and loving together like true partners should. And I owe much of this beauty to you.
By Hank Ryder2 years ago in Confessions
Was the Titanic Sunk On Purpose?
As I listen to him speak on events that shook the cosmos with the same casual tone my neighbor might describe his days of repair work, I am struck by the vast power difference that exists between myself and the man I was lucky enough to be interviewing.
By Hank Ryder2 years ago in Fiction
Philosophy of Owlistocres
A brief treatise on the great works of Owlistocres. During the age of wisdom, in which owls ruled the world, there hatched a truly brilliant mind the likes of which have never been seen since. His name was Owlistacres. Make no mistake, you are pronouncing it wrong. To truly grasp this owl's genius one would have to be an owl, and as we are not, we can not.
By Hank Ryder2 years ago in Fiction
Tears for Medusa
In the center of Medusa's lair was a statue of her father... As Apollo's golden chariot disappeared below the western horizon, dragging Helios in its wake, the skies above Greece blazed violet and gold in a final celebration of the day even as the darkness of night marched up from the eastern horizon. Artemis began her own journey across the skies, carrying Selene behind her. That night a stranger came to the city of Cisthene by way of the sea. He left behind a life dedicated to Ares, and set out to build a new one dedicated to peace. As he took his first good look at the city, a shadow fell across his face as an owl darted past him; seemingly urging him onwards to enter the city. The sacred bird of Athena, goddess of wisdom. The man interpreted this as a sign that he was making the wise choice in coming here, and set out to build his new life.
By Hank Ryder2 years ago in Fiction