It comes slowly, making it’s
Way toward you, a look of
Hunger could be seen In its eyes…
A modern day horror story focused around an (supposedly)abandoned insane asylum
A Sci-fi tale surrounding a Earth force captains first command and battle against an unknown alien race.
This is the first 2 1/2 chapters of my on going Battlefield promotion novella, I have attempted to blend third and first person writing together in a smooth natural fashion, and strived to keep true to the details of space as it’s understood by modern astronomy today.
It may be a bit slow to pick up the pace in the beginning, but it does gain momentum.
For those who are curious I’d consider this story to be rated PG-13 or R due to descriptive violence.
The inanimate remnants and dry husks of ideas left stillborn.
In a clearing in a long-lost wood, it was morning.
In an age of lawlessness and war, there is one man who stands up against bandits and tyranny. That man is Michael Long, aka…the Gunman
Dreams are another way to announce the future, to add colour, to guide the characters or even mislead them. This is a scroll of various dreams.
This is the tale of how Princess Amber liberated Vallermoore from it’s mad Queen.
In a crowded marketplace, a man is standing on a soapbox, orating. Some of the crowd are cheering, some hissing, some standing around saying "I can't hear a bl**dy word he's saying". It's a hustings for an election. The PCs can either leave, or stay and listen. If they do the latter, then they can vote too, and they might get quite involved in the cheering. Depending on who wins they might get quite involved in the post-election brawl too...
There are numerous possibilities with this encounter: the PCs might end up talking to one of the nervous candidates before their speech, and offer encouragement and support. Of course this candidate may well turn out to be someone with outspokenly unorthodox views, and the crowd don't take kindly to s/his supporters. Or maybe the seemingly innocuous candidate turns out to be a complete racist, and the PCs wander off embarrassedly, pretending they weren't talking to this person five minutes ago.