Fantasy
The Phoenix and The Dragon
The night was peaceful and quiet before it was shattered by a piercing wail, waking all the animals nearby with a start. As the wailing continued, one animal in particular grew annoyed and let out a roar that shook the canopy. All fell silent and just as he was about to fall back to sleep, the wailing began anew and, somehow, it got louder. With a growl of disdain, he lumbered to his feet and left to investigate what was all the ruckus. It didn’t take very long to find the source of the crying, though it was unexpected.
By A.E. Falls4 years ago in Fiction
The Marvelous Rendell and Bob
Rendell was an enormous maroon colored talking dragon with blue, red and yellow spotted eyes and enormous jagged green and red colored scales. Rendell lived deep within a cave with many tunnels and a small stream running down the center of its largest stony path. This not only gave the cave its wonderful petrichor smell, but the water pooled up at the end of the corridor making a convenient bath. The pooled water was usually warm from natural steam vents beneath, but sometimes rose to boiling temperatures. The steam caused water to bead up and eventually grow stalactites and stalagmites. The cave’s complicated burrows were an unsolvable maze to humans, keeping Rendell safe. Rendell had been living there long enough to know where every passageway led.
By Alex H Mittelman 4 years ago in Fiction
The Dragon's Charge
Heavy and cold was the gloom of the forest, and pale, as though color itself had been leached from the world. Silver barked trees reached high into the canopy, their dark green leaves now black under the heatless and fading sunlight. It was there, in the forest of Dyn, that Gristurm found the toddler. He had heard its cry, the unmistakable wail of a child in distress, and felt duty-bound to investigate the source of the noise as quickly as he could. It was not an easy feat given his size, and many a young tree was felled in his haste. He was also nearly spent, his energy reserves dwindling after a long flight at a breakneck pace.
By Caleb Pritchett4 years ago in Fiction
Of Dragoons and Noordith
The first memory of every Dragoon is how they die. It has been the curse of the Dragoon clan since the fall hundreds of years ago, and the meaning of such incantation lost to time. When Derolth received his ominous foresight, and his wings were clipped as is tradition, the final fire of the clan was lit.
By D.D. Schneider4 years ago in Fiction
Banoom
Banoom dragged her tail through the fallen leaves on the malt path, the autumn foliage now past peak color, her breath visible in the air above her snout. Cambria woods – especially the malt path – was her favorite place on Yirrth, a retreat from awkward interactions with family ‘friends,’ volunteers, or the Charitable Order of Gnomes. A place to avoid whomever she was appointed to stay with that week.
By D.P. Martin4 years ago in Fiction
Riptide; Chapter 1
The wind whips by, tossing the strands of hair it catches into my face. If the storm hadn't broken our already weakened mast, we'd be making excellent time. I sigh, tapping my finger on the railing of the bow. The storm had proved to be our saving grace, even if it had nearly dragged us under in the process. Our main mast was gone, having taken out the foremast as it fell, and our sails were in tatters, but at least we had made it out, most likely unlike our pursuant.
By Katarzyna Crevan4 years ago in Fiction
A Curse to Break; Chapter 4
I take one last look at my reflection in the mirror, slowly turning my head to each side. I don't think I did too bad of a job. Hopefully, Mother would agree. She was likely still mad at me, and I didn't want to give her any more reason to be mad. She would likely think any slip-up was another attempt to get out of going to the ball. I knew better than to push my luck like that, but Mother wouldn't care.
By Katarzyna Crevan4 years ago in Fiction
