Adventure
Rifts of Unithar
Sometimes Mother didn’t want to wake-up. She’d lay catatonic for days atop mounds of heat-twisted, marbleized gold, silver, and gems. An ancient chamber of melted treasures befitting the last dragon of Unithar. Caelyn knew it wasn’t because of him, but it was hard not to feel so. She mourned her youngling whom his species had killed centuries ago, and he was a disappointing replacement. Many times she assured him of no comparison, but on days like these he wondered.
Christopher MichaelPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
The Path
England, 1205: Very few could tell you how the dragon war began. Truthfully not many still remembered, so long had it been raging.
Michael CoffeyPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
Scales and Steel
The terrestrial globe that we have become accustomed to calling Ailoon knew for thousands of years the hatred that existed between two of its largest congregations of Humans who wandered the length and breadth of the continent of Ei: to the northwest lied the fearsome Frevoss Empire, an ever-changing and resilient nation, due to the inadequacy of its inhabitants in the use of the Magical Arts; to the southeast stood the Reitian Federation, an economically stable, proactive nation, kind with its states. The latter, thanks to its - albeit sparse – armies of sorcerers and healers, managed to take back the territories that the Empire took away from it in order to compete with it in the maritime market.
Tana CrimsonPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
Brother Dragon
“Children, it’s time I told you a story.” Ameillia stretched her scaly neck, bringing her two boys close to her with the swipe of her tail. One was Jauve, her own scales and blood; the other was Matu, a human child she had rescued some years ago. Both boys had recently turned six.
Maika RothfussPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
Wellspring
Kaida: Bahaha! Look at the expression that froze onto this one's stupid face! Her sisters soared over the scene, looking down at what was left of the dozen or so orcs now frozen to the Forest floor. Satisfied none had gotten away, they landed for a closer look.
Sarah Rosanna BuschPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
The Test of Aeralius
Prologue The damp walls of the mine loomed around Aeralius. A small beam of light was coming through a shaft in the ceiling. It was just enough light to see by, but Aeralius was used to it. The toddler had lived in the mine as long as he remembered. His mother was talking to another woman, but Aeralius was not listening to her words.
Alex van LeijdenPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
The Blood of Telkan
Dragons were nothing but myth and legend. Even during the golden age of the Kingdom of Dagnar when magical and mystical powers were the norm, the great winged beasts were believed to be nothing more than the results of a bard's imagination. None had ever been seen and no one even bothered with claiming to have seen one, no matter how fervently they believed their eyes. As lust for gold and power dismantled the great kingdom, however, the lone survivor of the blessed and regal House of Telkan discovered otherwise.
Josh KearnsPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
Dragon Cursed
There was a heaviness to the air, as if even the forest itself was holding its breath. The animals of the night sensed it too as they scurried off to their dens and warrens, hours before they would normally do so. Even the chirps of the crickets and songs of the birds faded off into silence.
Tonia AymondPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
Arthur, Brother of Dragons
Bahamut, king of the dragons, examined a chest half hidden in a hollow tree, covered with branches and leaves. The hurried disguise would have tricked many passers-by if it wasn’t for the foul odor coming from inside. The dragon sniffed at the air and listened. Whoever had hidden the chest here had left hours ago. Bahamut lifted the lid and was met by an ear-splitting scream.
James Nicholas AdamsPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
Ally Lichen's Friend: 1. Lighthouse Witch
Damp chill clung to every stone of the lighthouse walls. As she made her way up from the cellar, Ally's fingers grew red and cold around the frigid metal handle of the lantern she held. Its golden glow pooled on the narrow walls of the spiral staircase in a perfect circle, as though Ally Lichen was a firefly in the center of the light.
Millie FlorencePublished 7 months ago in FictionGradeon the Great
Gradeon the Great The Rubesco dragon named Gradeon soared through the dark sky. Dusky pink, with huge feathered wings, she was a sight to behold as she flew over Monoceros Valley, past the Great Lake of Serpentona, east over the rolling blue hills of Scythia. It was the furthest she had flown in months, and the night wind was cool and glorious on her scales, as if each one was being kissed by the icy lips of a lover. She was high up, where the stars glittered big, and bright. She flew in circles, spreading her great, feathered wings to their full span, allowing herself to enjoy this rare moment of being completely alone. Exhilaration transcended through to her core and she felt a jolt of joy course through her. As she approached the forest where Grandmaster Fa had told her to head, she saw the soft glint of water and longed for the biting relief of fresh-water, so unlike the tempered hot springs of where she had travelled from. Gradeon started to descend, glad she had seen no-one so far on this flight, trusting Grandmaster Fa and his insistence that she left this night, the darkest since he had had his vision.
Leilah MoodleyPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
The Seven Dragori Kings-The Rise of Thermatos
Preface- There is a legend in our realm that has been passed down from generation to generation. The legend of the great winged beasts of old-The Dragori Kings. It is said that in the murky depths of the Master Sea of Caspious lies Larula, the heart of the seven seas. Larula foresaw the need for great protectors to lord over the sky, land and sea to protect us from the evils that reside in the dark lands. Knowing this was essential to the survival and protection of the realm that she loved so much, her heart produced seven sparks. From those seven sparks the great Dragori Kings were born. Larula blessed those sparks with extraordinary strength and abilities beyond what we mortals could comprehend. She also gifted them with fairness, kindness and the ability to love as a balance to that power. But with light comes darkness. Two forces always at war, never able to coexist. When murmurs of the Dragori Kings spread to the dark lands of Umbrial and into the undead sea of Demor, home to Calphia-the black heart, she decided that she needed a force of her own. Except her heart didn’t beat, so instead of sparks of life, she released seven drops of inky black blood. And from that blood spawned the seven Dragoul Dark Lords. Created equal in power with death and destruction running through their veins. They were unleashed onto our lands to feed the darkness that ruled them. The battles between the Dragoul and Dragori were brutal and unforgiving, rumored to have spanned hundreds of years and claiming too many lives in the process. The Dragori fell one by one, returning to Larulas heart, until all were thought to be lost. With the fall of each Dragori, Calphia was forced to reclaim one of her Dragoul back into her black heart to maintain the balance. However, there was something Calphia did not know. A great secret that Larula held close in her watery heart. Each of her Dragori was gifted with the ability to shift into human form. A gift that was only triggered when the last Dragori King was left, which ended up being the great Thermatos. The legend of the Dragori always ends with Thermatos transformation and disappearance into our realm, roaming the vast forest of Tieralyn, ready and waiting. For what, we do not know…
Hayley MosbyPublished 7 months ago in Fiction
