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Blade of Innocence 2: Ramifications

sciborg2's picture

A single fly screeching cannot be heard. But billions of billions of them, each a traitor born of the same betrayal, is a cacophony. Memories are harmless so long as the feeling of the past is barred.


The ecstasy nearly throws him off his mount. A beautifully scented twist in the spacial folds, a delicious contradiction within the orders of infinity. Why had he not felt this before? He is always smiling, but this time there is truth to it. He turned his bronze mount with a tap of his scythe. He must, after so long, speak with his sister.

Blade of Innocence 1: Celestial Conspiracy

sciborg2's picture

The door opened, and a beautiful creature came through it. Moving like a ghost in flesh, the figure moved toward the end of the room. The tulani's hair had flattened slightly from the swampy mists. It gave his youthful face an aura of reckless sensuality, despite a weight behind his pupils' dark. He shed his black cloak with a quick motion, and swiftly took a seat, grimacing even before he sat down.

Blade of Innocence: Introduction

sciborg2's picture

The suspected dark lord Creus was once, like all the dark lords, a resident of a different plane. Creus was a warrior-mage of considerable repute, seen as the protector of his country Avaldia. Born in a time of war, war was all Creus knew. Selected as a child for training, Creus's life was circumscribed by two types of persons--those who were enemies and those who were expendable to ensure the defeat of enemies.

The Sunset

The Great Hippo's picture

And so it came to pass that the thief (for that was his profession, and he was very good at what he did) found himself sitting besides the paladin (for that was her profession, and she was just as good at it if not better) and watching the sun set fire to the ocean for the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, the thief said to his friend, lover, and wife:

"Penny for your thoughts. But I expect change."

"Keep it. You need it to buy new jokes."

"I thought you liked my old ones."


Clueless's picture

2004 saw the first Planewalker NaNoWriMo contest! We had a blast with this contest, churning out a nice collection of of novels (3 finished before the deadline even!).

Take a peek around - this years winner was simmo, with a wonderful spinoff of Around the World in 80 days. See all of you next year, and in the meantime, enjoy reading!

Planar Poetry

Clueless's picture

A collection of poetry produced by our friendly forumites.

Devil Drakes for a Dark Seacher

Mechalich's picture

Sighing slightly Ijien’s dark-skinned hand delicately flipped another of the old, crinkled pages, ever careful not to damage them. She would have been utterly abashed to damage something so old and valuable, no matter how bland its contexts had prove thus far, by simple carelessness, to say nothing of what it would have cost to try and replace such an ancient tome. Carefully her eyes scanned down the page, puzzling out the old runes as she went, and searching for the references she sought, but finding nothing.

Evil Still Seeps Through

Shemeska the Marauder's picture

“Torture is never about answers. Torture is about the breaking of one will and the triumph of another. It’s a subtle, intimate, erotic interplay of heretic and inquisitor, warden and prisoner, fiend and petitioner, you and I.”A hand brushed delicately across the victim’s cheek, gathering the moisture of a tear on one claw before flicking it away. The fingertips were charred and blackened down to the bone, and that incongruity was paltry compared to the whole.“This is a pity, it truly is. I would have expected more from you.”


Anarch's picture

Grey.Always grey.I lie still.Colors bleed.Grey.Unending grey.The world turns.The wheel spins.I lie still.Grey.Unending grey.I feel.I felt.I bleed.I bled.The world turns.The wheel spins.Grey.Always grey.I wonder.I pause.I ask.Am I?Are we?Are they?Grey.Unending grey.Crave the cold.Yearn for pain.Beg for sense.Grey.Always grey.Ask for food.Pray for rain.Plead for help.The world turns.

The Apple Vampire

joyblood's picture

The air was thick, almost like dirty water, and the guests were more than fitting: Demonic creatures, mephits, even a steam elemental. As one of the rare mortals, Alluenith felt like he'd die any moment - whether more probable by suffocating or by being torn apart by one of the demons, he could not say.
At last, he found the person... creature... he was looking for. He gave him a friendly nod, then sat down at the table.
"So... what is it you wanted me to come here for?"
"I have... a story for you. You are one of these newsrag writers, correct?"

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