《Dreams of the Aasimar Cleric》They stand in the throne room
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A dream: you find yourself standing in a throne room, several chairs in front of you, shapeless forms seems to rest in the chairs before you, you look and to your side and four figures stand beside you, familiar faces at your sides, the half-elf you share your tent with, the two human men,
and another figure, no one else in the room is moving they all seem frozen in place, you feel as if you can move and as you do you feel yourself shift toward and you are able to turn and face your companions and yourself, you can see yourself, your own face looking back at you like a mirror, standing shoulder to shoulder with your compatriots. You shift down to one side passing the two human men you know so well. This next figure the closer you get while they seem familiar you cannot see their face. Even as you stand right in front of them you cannot see the features of their face, their clothes you can see clearly but the face you cannot make out. You feel your presence being drawn back being pulled back to your physical form and as you once again merge with it you awake from the dream
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An Infinite Recursion of Time
I always wanted to be taken to another world, and as they say, there are no atheists in the foxhole that we call real life. I prayed, and prayed, and prayed until one day, I opened my eyes to see my dream had come true. I also saw the axe of an orc bearing down on my skull. You win some, you lose some. A time-loop fantasy story written after getting into litRPGs a bit. I wondered what it would be like if I just went and wrote a story about all the things I liked in web fiction without holding back: time loops, RPG stats, certain character archetypes, and harems played straight. Please be warned of lewd descriptions and depraved sexualization. If nothing else, this will be a sincere work. Completed EPUB (exported directly from Royal Road with no changes; let me know if there's any problems): https://mega.nz/file/Kxg11CoB#2J-rZ7MKSnd4UpNwx257_mjecMQ0wpc8-ixjYIse_40
8 206 - In Serial9 Chapters
A Titan's Crusade
Erik Thayne spent most of his life being brutally ridiculed and tormented for his weight and physical appearance, among other things. A social pariah and diagnosed with an eating disorder no one has an explanation or treatment for, Erik spent years trying to overcome his issues with his personal image and escape the ridicule and vicious torment of his peers. After years of dedicated effort, and a fresh start in a town away from his childhood and adolescent tormentors, he had finally begun to truly realize what he'd been striving for all along. Only, fate apparently has other plans because in the blink of an eye, Erik found himself snatched from Earth and taken to another universe, another world, where he is offered the chance to be more than he'd ever imagined. Now, he has to fight to restore the Balance between Chaos and Order on a world of swords and magic, in a universe governed by the System's laws, which resemble those of RPGs from Earth. Erik learned to embrace the things about himself that others taught him to hate, using them to reforge his physical identity into something more removed from his old self-loathing. But can he learn to embrace the darkest parts of his mind just as he did the reviled aspects of his body and become who he needs to be to succeed in the task set before him? It might just prove easier to stalk in the dark as a monster than to walk in the light as a man... *This is my first time publishing anything I've written to a public audience. Due to formatting issues, I forwent traditional stat-screens for something a little less problematic, delineating stat screens by separating them from regular text with horizontal lines in a lighter-grey coloration. Let me know if you like them or not. Criticism is entirely welcome, but please don't hate on my work after only reading 1 chapter. This is a writing project I intend to complete but I have committment problems so we'll see how long this goes on. Also, fair warning, as the description implies, the main protagonist is intended to be someone who has been treated cruelly, developed antisocial tendencies, and ultimately has to question his own humanity--or lack thereof. This story is not intended to be brutally dark but I will definitely be trying to follow a darker theme. It is intended to be violent and some scenes later in the story might be...alarming. There will likely also be some light, non-graphic (think more implied with crude jokes and conversation than actual details, there will be no full-blown sex scenes)relationship scenes planned later and if you're opposed to either a bisexual or gay main character, stay away. I haven't yet decided which way he's going to swing but the odds on him being straight are relatively miniscule, and I've always wanted to write a story about a gay man who basically looks like a lumberjack because who doesn't like giving conventional stereo-types the middle finger? This will NOT be a harem story, and I have no intention to focus on romance over action--it's a consequence of character development where I'm concerned, not the be-all-end-all of the story. The cover-art does not, in any way, belong to me. It was an image titled the Druid King (by duskanmarkovic according to the file name) which I found on Google Images. Until I can get something commissioned, this is the best stand-in image I could find.
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Magic has vanished from the modern world, relegated to 'biased accounts' and fairy tales. It has no place in the world of heroes and science. Or so the modern people thought. They would be proven wrong, as one of the eldest lineages of the magical world is revived, to once more aim for dominion over the world of magic and man. Update: 19.4.2021: Revised paragraph formatting to ease the reading experience. Feedback is appreciated! Update: 16.07.2021: The last chapter is written! The title has also been changed, from "Return of Magic, Ascendance of the Old Blood", to "Lady of Beasts". [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
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~I'm a Good Boy~
This is just a little story i made on the spot because im really bored. Just to notify some of the crazy and dreaded grammar nazi, english is my second language, I challenge you to know which. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Zack is a big, BIG fan of Naruto. No, not the stupid little blond haired teenager, but the whole entire idea of it. It can be so much more, there was always some fanfiction that he think was better than the original story, but there was always some troublesome author that keep ending it too early. so out of pure rage with another of these so called "author", he decide to write his own story, but fate had a strange way to mess thing. in the end of his first chapter, Zack sigh loudly, why would he do that? He will have no fun in doing this! So while thinking about that, he accidently knock of his drink on the laptop, wich in turn turn it into a big electrical mess. That was all he remembered before waking up in a small rainbow colored room. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ps- this is in the prologue
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A Path Of Rage
A young man has a heart attack in his room, while working out as he dies he struggles to keep himself alive but ultimately passes out, when he awakens he finds himself in a black void where he experiences endless pain, to not lose his mind he distracts himself with mental games, after spending two years in the void he finally escapes its clutches but finds himself in the body of a baby.Fallow along this mans path as he learns the Great Doa, introduced and invents new technologys never before seen in this world, and ultimately follows his dream of exploring The Sea Of Stars.
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Silent Poetry
(#1 in metaphor)At late nights, I could see those choked words rushing out of my throat-shouting their presence in the ink of the broken pen. They are awake to be in my heart and on this paper. In the soft yellow light of the lamp, I'm weaving them again, breaking the captivity of time. Oh, I'm still writing.
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