Fantasy
The Hunger
There weren't always dragons in the valley. There was a time when they had faded into myth, the subject of campfire stories and bedtime tales to scare children into behaving. After 300 years of peace, history turned to fiction and the past was slowly forgotten.
By Michael Coffey4 years ago in Fiction
Dragon Mountain
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. If it weren’t for the arrogance of men, it would have stayed that way; In another time, when the Roman Republic ruled across the Mediterranean with a conquering iron fist, their brutality spread rapidly, imposing their rule on other tribes and nations they deemed lesser than themselves. As they conquered, as well as imposing their rule on those they conquered, they also imposed their own religion on the native tribes and nations, as they would destroy worship sites and temples they deemed unworthy, especially if the religion was an insult to the Roman pagan gods. There was one such religion that caught the attention of the Republic.
By R. L. Turner4 years ago in Fiction
Helldrake Valley
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. In fact, its original name had been the Valley of the Grass Sea because that’s all there was of note, and it led down from the mountains to the ocean. Farmers had lived on the hills above the Valley and had used the grasses to feed their livestock. They were the first to be slaughtered with arrival of the infernal Drakes. Now called Helldrake Valley, a once peaceful and prosperous region had been absolutely decimated by the beasts who had made it their domain.
By Duncan Ainsworth4 years ago in Fiction
The Chroma Trinity
There weren't always dragons in the valley. The topsoil of the farmlands wasn't always an acid bog. The cypress fields weren't always a wasteland of charcoal and ash. And our city, Teglata, capital of the Republic of Whaica, once a bastion of knowledge and learning, diplomacy and trade, wasn't always frozen in ice. Before Mount Mynquet, the Liquid Peak, exploded, releasing the Chroma Trinity from their primordial prison, this valley was a paradise. Now every orc, human, and elf that lived peacefully in this valley are slaves to three flying tyrants who demand tribute in gold, sacrifice, or blood with each passing season. Only a few of Teglata's citizens dare to fight back. It begs the question: what mere mortal would dare stand up to a single draconic tyrant—let alone three. I hope to find the answer in these caverns.
By Tyler Clark4 years ago in Fiction
The Chronicles of the Eyinar
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. At least that’s what the town’s people will tell you. The truth is, we’ve been here for centuries. My people, the Eyinar, were the first to come to this area. My ancestors settled in the Halcyon Mountains in the north. The mountain trails, the caverns, and the caves within the granite mountains were all created over centuries by us.
By Tamara McNeill4 years ago in Fiction
Alteration
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Our once booming desert oasis that was riddled with salty air, ancient shorelines, and a sea of houses that all look the same. The dragons have become our stand-offish neighbors living either in the protective mountains surrounding our valley or have taken solace in the abandoned single family homes on the outer edges of the HOA property lines if they were greedy enough. Some hoard bones, carcasses, and other ghastly sights. While others hoard flat screen TVs, unused cookbooks, and other household items that we snicker at despite the high value these items hold for our scaled community members.
By Stevie Matthews4 years ago in Fiction
The Wenger's Building
There weren't always dragons in the valley. We had managed to contain them, after a fashion, in the old Wenger's Department Store building on Grainger Street for years. But that was a very, very long time ago. When I say ‘we’ and 'contain', to be completely honest, they wanted to be there and they are dragons, so...
By Jo Darrall4 years ago in Fiction
Scales of Stone
Prologue: There weren't always dragons in the Valley. A fog always preceded their arrival. White tendrils would reach under doors and through any open windows or faults in the buildings. Down flues and chimneys, the vapors would plunge. Swatting them with brooms or hands would only deter the pressing for a brief moment before it would return. Clouds seemed to lift and sag with heaving, slow breaths. With each exhale, the grasping, curling tentacles would penetrate deeper. All glass would mist over with the arrival of the clouds. Peering into the blinding white was useless. All shapes and colors were gone, leaving faint ghosts of objects only discernable if you were close enough to breathe on them.
By J.J. Cross4 years ago in Fiction
The Ambuscade Board
“There weren't always Dragons in the Valley. You’re rushing, Clara. Again. From the top.” In one swift motion, Clara Renshaw went from hesitantly shifting the wooden token beneath her fingers to firing it across the table like a lethally-minded tiddlywink. In the same split second, though, her narrow eyes widened to orbs of pure panic, as she saw the counter fly high off the table towards the face of her downcast mentor – before relaxing again as his left hand swiftly caught it, an inch from his grizzled beard.
By Harley Viveash4 years ago in Fiction
