A group go to the B'Nari to get new bodies. They wish to develop underwater cities, without needing domes for air, so they, and their friends, can finally live peacefully together. -- Anon Guest
[AN: The Alliance has LOADS of planets where people can live according to their personal moral alignment. Also I have a planet called Beach where Humans and Cetaceans have built a society together]
They were looking at a water planet with relatively shallow oceans. Kelp farming and fish husbandry were their main goals. But they also wished to live as merfolk. Anything spaceport related would be happening on the one island large enough for such a thing, and mostly run by the people with thalassophobia.
The rest of the islands were too tiny for dense habitation.
Though technology existed for the Humans settling there, they wanted something different. Really, disturbingly different. They wanted to become fully aquatic merfolk.
A troop of marines had finally rotated home after a lot of... unpleasant experiences. Now, they planned to sit back, relax, enjoy their hard-earned retirements, and definitely enjoy the summer and all the fun that came with it. -- Anon Guest
After six months of trudging around in battle-ready armour, it was damned good to feel the air on hir skin. It felt even better to plunge into the open ocean and take the weight off hir feet and spine. Trooper Glyn still wore hir skins, even though this entire planet was clothing-optional. Ze didn't wish to be completely vulnerable to elements ze hadn't experienced in person for most of a year[1].
Glyn broke the surface out in the gentle waves, appreciating clouds in the sky instead of a permanent cover of smog. On the nearby beach, appreciating the breeze on all of his skin, was hir troopmate Sef.
"Aw, they'll let anyone in here," Glyn called. "There goes the neighbourhood!"
Wraithvine had two new adventurers to train. One, a person who is able, in small bursts, to stop time, one who was willing to risk their life to save hirs, and another, a terrified child who was alone in the forests and almost entirely feral. The immortals, Wraithvine and Birbid, and that fully immortal cat, Lilbit, were now a new adventuring party with these two young wonders. No prophecy, no destiny, just family. Which is nice for a change.
Bibrid had been examining Scramble's ability through his Dragon eyes to see if anything was different to true Draconic senses. Irritatingly, everything remained the same. He still couldn't unriddle what sort of spellwork was going on behind Scramble's eyes. He sighed and resumed his accustomed Gnomish guise. "So much for that idea. Sorry for wasting your energies."
"I'll be fine," Scramble helped hirself to one of the good berries. All the better to restore hirself. "We camped to make sure that the energy was available to spend. No threats from the woods, no rampaging Adventurers in the middle of nowhere, no unforseen-- oh, I spoke too soon." Scramble pointed to Wraithvine's return, and the small creature in the Eternal Wizard's tow.
"Oh dear," sighed Bibrid. "That doesn't look like a lot of forage, Wizard."
A ghoulish adventure unfolds, as Wraithvine discovers a message carved in runes upon a hanged man’s flesh which leads hir to a dread idol, a seer frightened to near madness from her own visions, and a lake which often turns red like blood… -- Deathshead419
It was shit like this that set Wraithvine on hir path. It was stuff like this that made hir take hir oath in the first place. The criminal in the gibbet had infernal runes appearing on his left leg right before hir eyes. Even more chilling than that omen, was the fact that the runes were directions.
The dead man's hand tapped the sigils six times.
I get it, Wraithvine thought, You don't need to rub it in. Ze set off to the ominous destination inscribed on a corpse. If there was an incursion from the Plane of Torment, this was a certain sign. So Wraithvine spent a lot more effort than normal to reach hir destination.
Challenge #04900-M151: Big Truffle in Little River
Two villages, once best friends, were viciously warring. A seer came to town prophesizing doom as both villages were to "lose their names". The battles stopped. They lived in peace to fortify against the doom. The seer lied, and did not lie, the war stopped, they didn't die. -- Anon Guest
Swindon and Wallowdale had been battling over a pig. The exact circumstances differed depending on who you asked, but the broad strokes were thus: It was the other side who stole it and it was their bound duty to get their revenge against those filthy pig thieves on the other side of the stream.
So far, there had been minor injuries, but things were bound to escalate. Clearly, someone had to do something.
These facts were completely lost on Maggart, who lived in the woods alone and had eaten a few too many of the interesting mushrooms growing in a nearby cave. That, in combination with a lot of equally interesting flora, resulted in her stumbling onto the bridge where both villagers posted up to have there semi-weekly battle.
Stop by and listen to one of my continuing stories read COLD and LIVE on Twitch!
Not my daily tales, a yarn of a different colour. Come for the fiction, stay for the live reactions
Draft2Digital, in their infinite excuse for wisdom, have elected to charge "low earners" $12USD per annum for not earning over $100USD per annum.
As you might guess, I'm fucking broke. I also don't know how to sell my shit. Easy solution - move to a different Indie Publishing arena.
The best one of the batch, recommended to me by fellow Authors, is Ingram Spark. THEY need a real ISBN.
That I have to pay for.
I'm flat fucking broke, as stated earlier.
My options are:
* Put up with being hit for $12USD a year
* Find a way to raise roughly $600AUD for some ISBN's
* Beg for money on the internet
As it stands, I'm taking all my free stories off of Draft2Digital and adjusting some price tags so that I can earn a little more scratch.
My daily tales are just paying the bills, which is nice, but I would really love some moneys to pay for little extras.
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/cmweller
Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/cmweller
Shortly after I explain shit to y'all, I explain shit to Beloved
Freaking out to the Promptcast crew to save time
Also researching cheaper ISBN's because there has to be something somewhere
Find a lot of scammers
Yay
Eventually resolve on long con plot which is thus:
- Take free-to-has stories off of Draft2Digital
- Adjust prices of the paid-for stuff according to advice from @pkice2004 (tysm ilu)
- Gradually save up the dosh to migrate stories ten at a time
- Whilst offering to give out free stories for free to anyone who asks
Beloved starts asking interesting questions
I connect the dots and freak out immediately
Beg her not to do the thing
She does the thing
Babe I love you but I am also screaming and crying whilst wanting to hug you by the neck until you pass out
So I now have an account and a login at Thorpe-Bowker, the ONLY legitimate ISBN industry in town
Huzzah
I tentatively try one out and finalise a short story (RTFM) over at Ingram Spark. Testing the waters as you do
Sadly, my short stories can no longer be free all the time. They have to have a price.
Sorry about that
Plan to release future shorts as Free-for-October-only
Hope that gives the good vibes
Freaking out about ONE HUNDO FUCKIN ISBNs with my pals
Need the loo
Brownout happens
Which has shut down my compy
Huzzah. Not.
I take this as a divine sign to take my meltdown to bed with me
Wake up at fuckoff in the morning
Finish another chapter of ADT
Little freakout about that
Open email to the information from Thorpe-Bowker that I had Insufficient Funds
And that was that distant screaming sound you heard
So yeah, I am having A TIME thank you very very much
The world is looking a little better after some food and tea
But not a lot better because ISSUES
Carry on with carrying on
Download all my ePubs off of Draft
Record five chapters of ADT for Adorable
Write my daily blog
Finally take my fuckin' meds
Work on my daily tale in between freakouts and edutaining video essays
Moderate HoldMyPenPromptcast's Booked For Friday feature presentation
- Big audience because big draws
- Sometimes miss snoozes because copy/pasta-ing stream questions for the hosts
- I'm doing my best y'all
Finish my daily tale and post it
Post notifications
Gab with my friends until midday-ish
I have been awake for twelve fucking hours and I should probably try that sleep thing I've heard so much about
Shut down and settle into bed
JUST as I am drifting off into story-dreamland, Beloved rings me
didIjustshitmypants.jpg
Beloved summarised: "You're cool, you own those ISBN's legit, I paid it properly. You can relax now."
Bad timing on her part but I thank her as gracefully as an insomniac just getting to sleep actually can
Go back to sleep
Roughly THREE HOURS LATER I have returned to consciousness with the knowledge that everything is both hunky and dory
Huzzah for realsies this time
I'm gonna make myself a hot chocolate at some point. I deserve it.
There is a time of apogee, when things work and fame and fortune is yours. But it doesn't last, your body can't maintain the strain of peak performance. it comes sooner for some than others. Some teach, train or coach, keeping their love of their passion. Some trade on their fame, for good or ill. And some find another life no longer connected to that which drove them. -- Prompey
Nothing is permanent. Flowers wilt. Mountains erode. Oceans rise, as the wise say, and empires fall. Nevertheless, there are always those who refuse to believe that what goes up must also come down. Those who will not acknowledge that a meteoric rise to fame always ends in a disastrous fall to infamy.
Witness Frances Montcroix, risen to fame and fortune on the best reputation that money could buy. Sailing along on a homespun reputation no more solid than gossamer. Further observe the pattern of their behaviour.
Step one - venture capital. Find a business in the process of starting up that could contain great potential. Step two - give them a lot of money in return for an impressive title. Step three - give the business every possible advantage so that the actual brains behind it all have the easiest time making it succeed. Step four - take all the credit, take over, and tell the brains behind it all to take off. All whilst arranging steps one and two on at least two other ventures. Step four - stamp their personality all over the established product, making it their brand.
Draft2Digital, in their infinite excuse for wisdom, have elected to charge "low earners" $12USD per annum for not earning over $100USD per annum.
As you might guess, I'm fucking broke. I also don't know how to sell my shit. Easy solution - move to a different Indie Publishing arena.
The best one of the batch, recommended to me by fellow Authors, is Ingram Spark. THEY need a real ISBN.
That I have to pay for.
I'm flat fucking broke, as stated earlier.
My options are:
* Put up with being hit for $12USD a year
* Find a way to raise roughly $600AUD for some ISBN's
* Beg for money on the internet
As it stands, I'm taking all my free stories off of Draft2Digital and adjusting some price tags so that I can earn a little more scratch.
My daily tales are just paying the bills, which is nice, but I would really love some moneys to pay for little extras.
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/cmweller
Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/cmweller
Shortly after I explain shit to y'all, I explain shit to Beloved
Freaking out to the Promptcast crew to save time
Also researching cheaper ISBN's because there has to be something somewhere
Find a lot of scammers
Yay
Eventually resolve on long con plot which is thus:
- Take free-to-has stories off of Draft2Digital
- Adjust prices of the paid-for stuff according to advice from @pkice2004 (tysm ilu)
- Gradually save up the dosh to migrate stories ten at a time
- Whilst offering to give out free stories for free to anyone who asks
Beloved starts asking interesting questions
I connect the dots and freak out immediately
Beg her not to do the thing
She does the thing
Babe I love you but I am also screaming and crying whilst wanting to hug you by the neck until you pass out
So I now have an account and a login at Thorpe-Bowker, the ONLY legitimate ISBN industry in town
Huzzah
I tentatively try one out and finalise a short story (RTFM) over at Ingram Spark. Testing the waters as you do
Sadly, my short stories can no longer be free all the time. They have to have a price.
Sorry about that
Plan to release future shorts as Free-for-October-only
Hope that gives the good vibes
Freaking out about ONE HUNDO FUCKIN ISBNs with my pals
Need the loo
Brownout happens
Which has shut down my compy
Huzzah. Not.
I take this as a divine sign to take my meltdown to bed with me
Wake up at fuckoff in the morning
Finish another chapter of ADT
Little freakout about that
Open email to the information from Thorpe-Bowker that I had Insufficient Funds
And that was that distant screaming sound you heard
So yeah, I am having A TIME thank you very very much
Draft2Digital, in their infinite excuse for wisdom, have elected to charge "low earners" $12USD per annum for not earning over $100USD per annum.
As you might guess, I'm fucking broke. I also don't know how to sell my shit. Easy solution - move to a different Indie Publishing arena.
The best one of the batch, recommended to me by fellow Authors, is Ingram Spark. THEY need a real ISBN.
That I have to pay for.
I'm flat fucking broke, as stated earlier.
My options are:
* Put up with being hit for $12USD a year
* Find a way to raise roughly $600AUD for some ISBN's
* Beg for money on the internet
As it stands, I'm taking all my free stories off of Draft2Digital and adjusting some price tags so that I can earn a little more scratch.
My daily tales are just paying the bills, which is nice, but I would really love some moneys to pay for little extras.
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/cmweller
Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/cmweller
Challenge #04897-M148: Epic Rap Battle For History
A trio of warrior lords quibble over who is to inherit a large swath of land, for the will was lost in the fire which killed the former ruler. To avoid a war, the three visit seeress, who leads them to a shine of Wothynn, with the foretelling that the one who is the best Poet shall be judged the rightful heir to the land -- Deathshead419
Things were done differently in the Northlands. Politics was often settled with the sword, when it couldn't be resolved via the marital bed. Might often made right. Attacking an enemy the day after they'd just had drinking games in their mead halls was a legitimate war tactic. The Northmen were tough, hardy, and fond of their booze. The North women were even more fearsome.
Thork Thorvigsson had been a mighty warrior with thralls all across the fjords. Until, after one night of drunken revelry, someone set his longhouse ablaze.
Nobody knew who did it, and there was a passing chance that one of the feasters had knocked a candle or lantern into the threshes anyway. What was certain was that Thork Thorvigsson left a lot of land ungoverned and an enormous power vacuum.
Guild painter Petreau has pined for the hand of his master’s daughter for the last six years. After all this time, a masterpiece centered on her is finished. The girl even likes it. But how will he finagle his cantankerous mentor into letting him wed the girl he loves? -- Deathshead419
It was a portrait of adoration. The face on the canvas almost glowed with joy. Her hair was resplendant, and her clothes were lovingly rendered to look their best. Most importantly, it was not lustful in the slightest. Because it was meant to be viewed by her father.
Who was the most cantankerous, crotchety, argumentative, and bitter old sot who had ever held a paintbrush.
"Another attempt, eh?" said Leogratha, putting on his glasses so he could squint at the canvas. He was years overdue for a new prescription, but he was too stubborn to get a new set made. "Good likeness. I note you spent time on her hands to show off. Knitting. Extravagant."
It has been three summers since the new head of a scribal house in Arbordeep settled into the hereditary role, and all is not well. Many of the students have wandered off, no new recruits to the printing operation have arrived, and even worse, rumors are flitting about of a conspiracy amongst the remaining senior scribes. Something must be done… but what? -- Deathshead419
The Empire was falling. Barbarian invaders, polities breaking off and causing trouble with the Empire that once sheltered them from the Barbarians. It was so bad that the regiments of Legionarii were calling for Adventurers to fill their ranks.
Tullia scribed down as much as she could into sheets of bronze. It was less likely to be traded for the metal, and less likely to corrode. There was a chance that someone would know how to read if she perished.
With that thought in mind, she made one sheet with pictographic instructions. Hoping for the best.
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