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I like writing, if you like writing too you should post what you write here. It doesn't matter if it's original stories, fanfiction or poetry, just post it! Read what others post, be nice and comment. Other than that, have a nice day.

Posted on March 26, 2012 at 3:50 PM

Id like to post some stuff but most of my things are either half finished or just terrible.

I'll post half of a story I was working on for my half-orc a few months ago, and maybe i'll have a bit more to add later.

It was dark. Even for a half-orc, the darkness was all consuming. Karn didn't mind the darkness, the stinging pain in his shoulder took precedence. His mouth was full of the slightly metallic taste he'd come to associate with his own blood. He'd been in situations like this before, some of which he could even remember, but this one was different. They took his monkey. Those bastard kobolds caught him by surprise and robbed him blind, he could forgive that, but they took it one step too far. He pulled a crudely made arrow out of his shoulder and winced. That pitfall was pretty clever, he conceded that to the little worms, but it'd take more than a fall to put down Karn Ebonwood.

The leaves rustled gently in the wind as birds chirped their melodic greetings to one another, it was nearing spring and life was teeming in the Gilderglen. This was lost on Karn, who strolled casually down a makeshift road. After a job gone well he had plenty of gold for numbing his brain with some of the most watered down ale this side of the Everfrost steppes. Hell, he may even have some left over for supplies if he was lucky. There was an occasional rustle from his pack to remind him that his companion had tucked away for a nap. Karn had known Pogo for years...decades...he found the rhesus macaque caught in a trap set by local furriers when he was a lad, and they've been thick as thieves since. Pogo was, in a very real way, the only thing Karn truly cared about. Women came and went, weapons chipped and dulled, money was spent and lost, but Pogo was always there. Pogo was a tether to reality for Karn, without him there wasn't much left in the world.

Karn estimated that he was about an hour away from the nearest village, it was a pissant town, but it had a moderately clean tavern and a very relaxed town guard, which meant it would be the perfect place to stop for a night or six depending on how long he could make the gold last. While Karn was lost in thoughts of warm fires, cold ale, and maybe even some hot food he failed to notice the sun slowly setting below the horizon.

I really don't like this for a lot of reasons, but id love to hear what some more talented people think.

edited by Mashira on March 28, 2012 at 11:29 PM

Posted on March 27, 2012 at 7:07 AM

We have all tasted their flesh. We have treated them like they were no threat at all. That is why no one was prepared for what happened. That is why we were completely defenseless. That is why we were all killed by the…


Well, not quite all of us.

It all started in Idaho and from Idaho the plague spread across the whole nation. We are the last confirmed survivors in the U.S. and there aren’t many of us. We’ve taken our stand in a small town in Maine. Before all this I was a fan of the famous author Stephen King. Many of his novels took place in this state and being here makes me feel like I’m a character in one of his books. Except I know I’m not. This is real, as real as anything can be. If you’re out there and you can hear this, I beg you, find us!
This message was recorded by Sgt. P. on the 21th October 2011 in West point, Maine and is currently being broadcasted on all AM frequencies.

End of Prolouge.

edited by Tacko on April 1, 2012 at 7:32 AM

Posted on March 27, 2012 at 7:16 AM

According to myself this is the best thing I've ever written. Read the prologue first.
He turned off the radio, dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. He didn’t really like cigarettes, he preferred cigars but it had been ages since he had seen one of those so the cigarettes had to do. He picked up his bag which contained his belongings and food and walked out of the abandoned house and into the cold December air. What were their plans, he wondered. Did they plan on staying in Maine forever or did they plan to escape over the Atlantic to Europe? Maybe they were aiming to flee to one of the surviving cities in Canada. Either way he would go there and help them. He started walking east towards the highway he had travelled along for a couple of weeks now. He walked for hours with the cold wind blowing through his blond hair and with his blue eyes, which were even colder than the wind, fixed at the horizon.

A couple of miles further ahead he started to feel hungry so he put his bag on the ground and sat down. He unconsciously touched his left hip with his palm as the injury he had acquired a couple of weeks earlier began to hurt from him sitting down. In the bag there was canned food, enough for three more days he reckoned. He would probably need more food before he made it all the way to West Point. Should I raid another supermarket or should I waste a bullet for some fresh meat. The idea tempted him but even though it was winter it would not be safe to leave the road, especially not when the potatoes knew there were humans nearby.

Stanley was rubbing his fingers to keep warm he did not like the cold but he knew that the cold was good. They never move during the winter, it is too cold for them. That was why they only had two people on guard during the winter. They could have skipped having guards at all but you could never be too sure; this world was not to be trusted anymore. He turned towards the south, something he always did when he felt homesick. He really missed Florida but he knew that if he had been in Florida when the potatoes got there he would be dead now. Stanley closed his eyes and let the sun shine on his face. Oh, how he loved that feeling of the sun shining on his face. As he opened his eyes again he saw something way of in the distance and he raised his binoculars to his eyes to see what it was. What Stanley saw was a man walking straight towards West Point. It was too far away to see anything else but somehow Stanley had an eerie feeling that the man was staring at him.

edited by Tacko on April 1, 2012 at 7:33 AM

Posted on April 1, 2012 at 7:32 AM

.. poetry, huh?... *rummage*


I get rubbed of the ground
Ascending to my own time
through all your vortexes/swirls
waving cheering
said no body could crush
me with a rubber skin brush
i have got jupiter's storm
in my flesh and in my bones
No point in having a misleadingly long and boring sentence
without any particular context or harsh words

edited by Plato on April 2, 2012 at 5:17 PM

Posted on April 2, 2012 at 5:17 PM

Good deal Tacko, feels quite a bit like a piece of Stephen King's work.

Nice poem Plato. I don't see poetry much lately, which doesn't bug me much, but it's sad seeing an artform lose its power.

Maybe i'll write something and post it in here later today, iunno.

Posted on April 4, 2012 at 2:41 PM


So this is a small part of a short story I was working on. I say was because I haven't had much time to commit to it lately and I've kinda run out of steam with it. I'd love to hear some opinions. If people like it i'll try and get over this hump, if not i'll push it to the back burners and work on other projects.

Posted on June 14, 2012 at 7:12 AM

i like it.

My only note would be to add more paragraph breaks.

I see some of your situation in there, which is cool. It really reads as something informed of its content. I'd like to see where this character goes.

Do you have any SF aspirations in mind? (SF being speculative fiction)

edited by Joshura on June 14, 2012 at 1:44 PM

Posted on June 14, 2012 at 12:41 PM

I started out writing this with the intent of using the culture I've grown up in, to some degree or another, as a jumping point into something a bit more abstract. I figured it would be easier for me to place the story in a semi-familiar setting.

Currently I'm not terribly happy with how it reads, but I think I'm going to see this through, and at the end I'll shine it up as much as possible.

Yeah, that's where it's headed. There are a few sources that I'm drawing from which I may talk about after this is done, but it will end up being a Sci-Fi kinda thing.

edited by Mashira on June 14, 2012 at 1:47 PM

Posted on June 14, 2012 at 1:12 PM

Hey guys! I have an idea of what we should do. We should write something together, like the users who wants to join writes one chapter each. If you want to do this, say so here and we can decide wether to write a dark fantasy epic or erotic bosskey fanfiction.

Posted on July 23, 2012 at 9:03 PM

That's a great idea.

How should we go about starting? Any rules you wanna lay out? You wanna make a thread for this or do everything in here?

Posted on July 23, 2012 at 9:06 PM

Cool idea. I wouldn't mind trying that out.

Posted on July 23, 2012 at 9:11 PM


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