Elric of Melniboné by Doug Beekman

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Elric of Melniboné by Doug Beekman
"Hey I wanna play a game where lovecraftian horrors attack the titanic! And the PCs have to desperately try to survive!"
"Woah! That sounds like an absolutely awesome module for Call of Cth-"
"I think D&D 5e would be the best system for this."
I just drank one of those new bomb pop flavored 5 hour energies and did this to a garden gnome who was asking me for spare cash
I like that Michael Moorcock wrote into the story that Elric canonically just aura farms sometimes before continuing with the story
Happy Thurzday everyone (z to show it’s “cool”)
#thurzday
"Yeah bro it's good to set deadlines for yourself"
me as soon as a deadline approaches
hilary clinton
This is how it felt drinking the rizzler Arizona iced tea
I wanted to post a sample of Nidhogg, a fantasy story of mine that was recently published in Zoetic Magazine. If you enjoy it, you can read the rest here.
The darkness that the world had been pitched into was a truly hellish one. No sun. With another seven hours before the moons rose with the stars, Oldran had become a planet of darkness. A total silence blanketed the land, almost like the otherworldly calm of a town enjoying the refuge it’s collectively taken during a snowstorm. Svalbard was the first to act while Eirik and the others only stared into the sky in silence, mouth agape. The skald struck a chord on his lyre and muttered a few verses, and as the magic words filled the air, his instrument began to shine with a glowing blue light, creating a ring about thirty feet wide. Svalbard’s light illuminated the mountainside around them, letting Eirik see his group again. There were five of them, mercenaries sent from Ano Noss when the Nidhogg had made itself present in the sky. They had come out to the Mondon Mountain Pass where they saw the serpent swallow the low-hanging sun, the ball of light growing dimmer and dimmer as it passed through the thing’s body. Chunks of the Nidhogg had flaked off from the sheer heat of the star, falling like comets to the ground (the group had gaped when one slammed into the woods near them, rocking the mountains). Tonna, the leader of the group she called the Snow Wardens, let out a low whistle and spoke the first words anyone had said in a few minutes.
“We can’t move under these conditions.” There was another silence, and then a scoff pierced it as abruptly as a blade.
“Perceptive as always, Tonna.” It was Baug, the largest of the group. She was a hulking mass of black hair, clad in a pelt from a skinned bear. Sitting atop her shoulders were Diddiddit, the wild and unpredictable gnome that seemed to be inseparable from Baug. Eirik shivered under his thick coat. In just a matter of moments, his entire world had been reduced to a circle no larger than his immediate surroundings. Thick and messy trees on one side, a steep drop off the Mondon Mountains on the other. Both abruptly fell into nothingness where Svalbard’s light ended. Baug’s sarcastic interjection cast an uncomfortable silence over the already anxious group, and Eirik gazed numbly into Svalbard’s shining lyre. He found himself thinking stupidly mundane questions, How will the farmers know when to wake up now? and shook himself out of it. He looked to the other four Snow Wardens, and a dark spot danced in front of his vision where his eyes had narrowed on the light of the instrument. Finally his gaze fell on Tonna, the woman of twice his age that he had grown to trust to calm his fear since he was a young boy training to join the mercenaries.
“What do we do if we can’t keep moving?” Eirik asked. Tonna started a bit, as if she had forgotten she was the one in charge.
“I don’t think there’s much we can do.” The voice wasn’t Tonna’s. It was Svalbard’s. All eyes fell on him.
“There’s always something we can do,” Baug said, but Svalbard shook his head.
“I’ve heard songs, but never thought they were true. Stories to scare kids with at the very most.” He continued, “It’s the Nidhogg. It swallows the sun and signals the beginning of the end.”
Find out what happens to the Snow Wardens here, and follow me for more samples of my stories!
Joann Daley
Entering the job market in 2025
Welcome to My Writing Blog!
What I hope to achieve from this account is basically keeping anyone interested informed on how my writing is coming along, share moments in my writing I'm proud of, etc. I look forward to sharing one of my favorite things to do with all of you and I hope to read some of your work as well!
Woah what the heck is this I'm starting a writing blog to try and become more active in the writing world holy cow that's so cool I love this guy he's my favorite author
The Call Of Cthulhu (Salvador Sanz)
Whoever came up with the idea of putting commercials after trailers at the movies should be drug into the street and shot
I finished Twilight on Monday. Here's some notes I left while reading it (Yes it's on Perusall, it's for a Vampire Literature class). I know it's had an overabundance of hate over the years so I really want to say something nice about it and avoid dog piling, but it was a disaster. I don't think I realized just how abusive Edward was to Bella and just how Mormon-conservative the book was, and God was the book boring. Nothing happened until James showed up in the last third of the book, and everything low-stakes (Bella and Edward's first kiss, e.g.) was swept under the rug right after happening! Glad to be done with this.
Sike, I'm reading Life and Death for class now.
I'm finishing Twilight today and I got to the part where Bella goes to the street in Arizona called Cactus Street and like
That's like being like "yeah I'm from Massachusetts, I live on Clam Chowder Road"
As someone who tends to listen to an artist in order of their album releases, it's really annoying to listen to like 80% of rock musicians. Go on Spotify and look up Neil Young, David Bowie, Grateful Dead, whoever and I guarantee you their first album will sound like the most run-of-the-mill, mid tier, 2:30 runtime radio rock and it'll have a bunch of titles like "Please Save Me Mr. Rain Coat Man" and "Fig Tree For Sale But Not the Figs"