In a discord channel with some other folks I know, I did a big “info dump” (a.k.a. “wall-of-text”) on a Light Novel / Anime series titled (as you could guess from this post), “So I’m a Spider, So What?“. (The…
I realize that’s an odd title, and it doesn’t apply to everything. It’s more for the technology stuff. Most programming environments (languages, libraries, etc) have an … expected … way to do something. It’s what the original developers of that…
I had asked some friends if they’d be interested in crafting Pub Tales to add to the collection.
Glimsumm had been sitting at the bar for about five drinks. The pub wasn’t empty, but for his purposes, it might as well have been. He cared nothing for any of the other customers.
Captain Llewellyn Gavin Crayford — “Captain Crayford” to many, “Cap” or “Cap’n” to most of his crew, and “LG” to his friends — disembarked from his ship, Running Light, with a sigh. Most of his crew were already off the ship, glad to have some shore leave.
I was sure I had walked down this side street hundreds of times. How could I have never seen this pub before?
My life fell apart when I was ten — and that night will stick with me forever. It was mid-summer and Mom and Dad wanted a weekend to themselves. I was spending it with my grandparents — Dad’s parents. We’d had a good time with a quiet day — just Grandma, Grandpa, and me.
I stopped at the entrance counter, looking around and noting the guards and security cameras — just as I expected and knew would be here. The guard behind the counter looked up from his desk. “Yes? Can I help you, sir?”
Chief Elder Rubinku tumKeren, waist-long red hair braided and looped around his neck, stood by himself in the council chamber, his arms behind his back.
I know that’s overly cliched, but it was the absolute truth for both of us. I don’t recall, exactly, the very first time that I saw her. She was working at a local market as a cashier. The owner seemed to regularly rotate through pretty girls from the local school.
He sat there, staring at the page, stunned by what he saw, thinking, “But … he’s been my best friend since college. This … This can’t be right.”
Nonna Torsdottir opened her eyes to the sound of the innkeeper loudly shoving plates and mugs around, seemingly with the sole purpose of waking her. There was a sliver of early sun shining through the just-opened door to the inn.