Wanted Adventurers – This Land Called Betrayal

Posted on by under Wanted Adventurers

Temperance narrowed her gaze, her blade still at the ready. The Bridge Troll wielded a club that was twice as wide as Temperance, armor included, and looked like a fast way to answer the unspoken question of what could knock an entire dimension worth of depth out of a knight in plate armor.

“Let’s start with the simple questions and work our way up to more complicated things, please,” Monty said, his hands up to showcase his empty palms.

“I weren’t born yesterday, elfling,” the Bridge Troll said. “I smell the iron of two daggers in each of them sleeves. Best keep those hands up and not make any sudden moves, lest you want your paladin pal here to become a tin of holy shit.”

“That’s a thought that’ll haunt my dreams for a while,” Aranza muttered. “What’s your name, friend?”

The Bridge Troll cocked his head, his eyes now on Aranza. “Brazen of you to call me friend, friend,” he replied. He hesitated. “Suppose no harm in telling. It’s Brutus.”

Temperance smirked. “Let me guess,” she replied. “Your last name is something like ‘Skullcrusher’.”

Aranza knocked the sword from Temperance’s hand. “We’re going to have a long, unpleasant chat about that kind of nonsense later.”

Brutus nodded. “It’s Smith, I’ll have you know, and that was my family’s trade back before the village was stolen from us.”

“The Troll speaks lies! Lies!” shouted a voice from across the bridge. The party and Brutus turned their attention to its source. A number of humanoid faces were visible between the towering doors that closed Ankheim off from the world, the doors having been opened just enough.

“Oh, good, we can have a pleasant little conversation about how you damned humans and elves conned me and me family out of our rightful homestead,” Brutus sneered.

There was a collective muttering from the people just inside the doorway, and one was shoved forward. He was an older man, his eyes sunken in and his beard down to his knees. In another life, his garb may have suggested he was a powerful wizard. His stagger and sway, however, accompanied by the silver flask gripped in his hand suggested that life was not one he remembered well unless it came to needing to not pay a bar tab.

“You rob us at every turn!” the old man shouted.

“Just like you did to me and me family!”

Monty whistled sharply enough that the old man, Brutus, and Temperance had to cover their ears. Aranza shrugged, her hint of a smirk enough to suggest she was used to hearing the noise.

“Let’s get to the bottom of this, shall we?” Monty said. “I hear two tales of taking, and I want to know the truth before we come in and do…What it is that the Guild would deem appropriate.”

The old man perked up.

“No, you shut up,” Aranza said. “I trust Brutus. He seems honest. You smell like you could catch fire if you got too close to a lit match.”

The old man furrowed his brow, though his anger gave way to acceptance. “You raise a fair point, rude Orc.”

Brutus waved a hand at Ankheim. “Several years and generations ago, what before the swamp was drained and diverted, Ankheim wasn’t Ankheim,” he said. “It was Murkmuck Heights.”

The old man made a gagging sound. “Your family had nothing more than huts and ravenous alligators that plagued you!”

“Stop talking or I’ll throw you off of the bridge myself,” Aranza replied flatly.

Brutus offered a slight nod to Aranza. “Like I were saying, they came along. It wasn’t always bad, no. They helped us build up the village from the swampland. Make it less miserable living as it was, but as is often the case with humans they inevitably betrayed us and took the results of our hard work for themselves.”

Follow the Ashes – What’s in a Name?

Posted on by under Follow The Ashes

A countdown timer initiated above the door, and it indicated to Cas that she had only one minute to identify herself. Elimination seemed cut and dry to Cas–a permanent end, and not some clever phrasing for another meaning.

“My name is Cas,” Cas said. “I was a Commander on…Damn it, what was it?”

An alarm sounded and the countdown jumped ahead by five seconds. “Invalid response,” said the computerized voice. “Authorized personnel only. Identify or face elimination.”

“Commander Cas, who solved the Rings,” Cas guessed. Five more seconds vanished from the countdown after another alarm sounded.

“Shit,” Cas muttered low enough that it was not registered by the microphone that awaited her answer. A dull ache permeated from deep behind her eyes. A hint of a memory drifted to the surface for a fraction of a second and then it fell away from her thoughts too quickly for Cas to have taken anything meaningful from it. She focused, and the pain intensified. She gritted her teeth against it, determined.

The memory of the party was so real once again, as if Cas was there in person reliving those moments. Bertie. Gavin. Raph.

Vittorio. The oily slick smile of his made Cas’s skin crawl, but she endured it. Meanwhile, an intense buzzing rang in her ears. The pain intensified further as Vittorio addressed her.

“The —- of —- hour,” Vittorio said, some of his words drowned out. “What —- honor ——– you, Com— Cas—-.”

“Damn it,” Cas muttered. The world shifted suddenly and she was back in front of the door. The pain had subsided but at the loss of her focus on the memories she had been trying to recall.

Again she thought back to the party, the pain even more intense as her body rejected the idea of remembering that night and, more specifically, details about herself. She pried at the little black box in her mind, and felt as it began to give.

Once again she stood alone with Vittorio, the burning Earth visible through the massive windows ahead. Stars twinkled visibly all around. A couple stood out more than the rest at first, and as Cas focused and the pain only grew worse the stars grew into greater focus. A constellation formed.

“Cassiopeia!” Cas gasped, only somewhat aware of the blood that ran freely from her nose. “Commander Cassiopeia of Ellipse Datum!” She fell forward as the door opened, and the world righted itself.

“Welcome back, Commander,” the computerized voice said. “It’s been a long time. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Piece 18 – Uncrossing the Stars

Posted on by under A Puzzling New World

Izzy tapped a finger against the tip of her nose. “You’re asking what to do with me in a helpful way, right?” she asked. “Not some thinly-veiled allegory for murder, right? I’m getting some mixed vibes.”

Lady Rhimeghast chuckled. “That’s a valid question, I suppose,” she said. “You need to be returned to your home world, but there appears to have been more of an exchange than just you and the person who took your place.”

“Would that be the catalyst that caused the shift between worlds? Something or someone else also moved between realities?” Sophia asked.

Lady Rhimeghast nodded. “There has been an interesting uptick in curious magics to the west of the summit. Perhaps if you were to investigate that a little further, you could find answers?”

Sophia opened her mouth to reply, only for Izzy to step forward and speak first.

“Yes! Definitely! We’ll fix that right up and get me home,” Izzy replied. “I’ve got a crew that’s undoubtedly missing me, and I was on a short vacation that was cut even shorter, so…Relaxation to get back to, I hope.”

Lady Rhimeghast smiled. “Hopefully it will be that simple,” she said. “I’ll send you just beyond our borders, to the edge of where we’ve noticed the curiosities. The rest is up to you, however. Do you think you’re up to the task?”

Izzy offered two thumbs up. “I dig the Masters of the Fancy Jewelry vibes this world has, but I’ve got a lot to get back to so I need to accomplish this.”

“I admire your tenacity,” Lady Rhimeghast said. She snapped her fingers, and the world melted around Izzy and Sophia.

A chill wind scattered snow around Sophia and Izzy. A winding mountain path stretched ahead, gently sloping downwards to a small, abandoned village. Remnants of huts barely stood, with rooftops mostly collapsed and windows long-shattered. Curls of smoke snaked their way skywards from a feast hall at the far edge of the village.

“If this were an adventure game, that looks like a quest marker if I’ve ever seen one,” Izzy said.

“You seem to be a natural at this,” Sophia replied.

“Something like that,” Izzy said. “There were, uh…We…Ah! I had simulations of worlds like this, but with less chance of death if you screwed up. Which admittedly is a thought that should have occurred to me sooner.”

Sophia placed a hand on Izzy’s shoulder. “We can do this,” Sophia said. “We’ll get you home.”

The path seemed to stretch away from them as they walked towards the source of the smoke, and the atmosphere grew colder with each step. Thought it was still daytime, the world seemed to grow darker as they approached the hall. The doors were open, one barely held in place by its iron hinges.

Sophia and Izzy entered slowly. A solitary figure stood by the far wall, facing away from them and shrouded in shadow.

“Captain Warpt,” they said, their voice heavily distorted. “How curious, but this is now how we were meant to meet…”

Warpt Factor – Installment 18

Posted on by under Warpt Factor

The air in the haunted house was overbearing, stale, and stunk like a crypt. This sudden shift from the fully climate-controlled amusement park attraction did not go unnoticed.

“Stinks something awful in here,” Professor Everest said.

“Makes me grateful I have reduced olfactory senses,” Fontaine chirped.

Curian shook her head. “You must be a godsdamned delight at parties,” she said. “That’s assuming you get invited, anyway. This stinks like something familiar, though. I don’t think we’re…Wherever we were anymore.”

The track was missing, but the trappings of the haunted mansion remained. The cobwebs that pervaded every surface and the skittering of hidden spiders, however, seemed substantially more real.

“What do you mean?” CMO Carter asked.

“Better press on, my newly acquired friends,” Curian replied. “And let’s hope that whatever fel magics caused this didn’t have a sinister intent in mind. I’m good in a pinch if someone needs stabbed, but quietly procuring items and leaving unnoticed is more my speed.”

Fontaine gasped. “What you’re saying, then, is that you’re a thief?”

Curian sighed. “Nothing gets past the one-man plague here. How’s this place supposed to play out, anyway? Maybe we’ll get answers that way.”

CMO Carter nodded. “Not a bad idea,” she replied. She pointed towards a staircase that followed the wall ahead. It branched off a number of directions, the stairs a multitude of bridges overhead in ways that routed to multiple rooms.

“We’re in a sort of central hub, so the ride comes back here after each room would be completed,” CMO Carter explained. “Maybe if we play this out like it’s the ride, we’ll be able to set things right.”

“Loathe as I am to say this, perhaps that will get our Captain back and rid us of this delightful gargoyle,” Fontaine said.

Curian snapped her fingers. “That wasn’t a terrible insult, Chadley Cricket,” she shot back. “CMO Carter, was it? Can you lead the way?”

“I certainly can,” CMO Carter replied. “This is my favorite attraction here, after all.”

Wanted Adventurers – A Matter of Perspective

Posted on by under Wanted Adventurers

The journey to Ankheim took longer than expected, as Trundles was a boar with little attention to her rider’s directions and a powerful appetite. After three stops for snacks, it was decided a solution was needed for the sake of expediency.

Aranza smiled back at Temperance and Monty from a good distance ahead, the apple she’d rigged up to a simple combination of rope and a stick that was held just out of Trundles’ reach a powerful motivator for the boar.

“Don’t look so smug there,” Monty called. “You’ll be the first one to be eaten by the Bridge Troll if this goes sideways!”

“She had a good idea, though,” Temperance said. “Clever of her to use the boar’s endless appetite to her advantage.”

Monty gave Temperance a sideways glance. “Don’t let her hear you say that or she’ll never shut up about this.”

“Too late, I heard all of it!” Aranza shouted back.

“Gods damn it,” Monty said.

The horses clipclopped along the weathered dirt road, the metal of their horseshoes occasionally striking a stone from a time when there may have been some improvements in process before being abandoned.

“Have you ever been to Ankheim?” Monty asked Temperance, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead. They continued along at a pace that would ensure their arrival before sunset, which in turn guaranteed they would encounter the Bridge Troll they were tasked with removing.

“Sorry, did I need to use your title there or something to address you properly?” Monty asked “Guild Paladin Temperance, have you ever been to Ankheim before?”

Temperance blinked. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t…” she hesitated. “I didn’t think you were talking to me, to be honest. No, I haven’t. I have heard quite a bit about it, as they pay handsomely for special Guild protections.”

Monty chuckled. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he replied. “You’re in for a treat. Assuming we can deal with this Troll, that is. Better than going straight after a Lich, I suppose.”

Temperance smiled. “Suppose you’re right.”

A walled town appeared on the horizon. The heights of its walls glittered gold in the fading sunlight of the day. Two massive, iron doors blocked the only point of entry to the town and were the only thing separating the town from the bridge that spanned a steep valley and kept travelers from plunging into the Ankheim River. Few would suggest the Ankheim River is anything shy of a pleasant and slow-moving, but to follow it for too long beyond Ankheim would lead one to the Serpentus Falls. These were noteworthy for being a very sharp drop that was followed by an abrupt, often deadly stop.

The bridge that spanned the gap was stone, and fairly standard in appearance. Any bridgebuilder would be proud to call it their work, and rightfully so as it had occupied that span for greater than one hundred years without incident.

Aranza brought Trundles to a stop the easiest way she could manage, by dropping the apple. She dismounted, hammered a tent post into the ground, and tied Trundles’ harness to the post.

“By the Gods, you two certainly took your time,” Aranza taunted. “Busy having a buddy adventure back there while I scouted ahead?”

“You know my only friendly travel companion is you, Aranza,” Monty snarked back. “Any word on the Troll with whom we are to contend?”

They stood just beyond the edge of the bridge and considered their options. Bridge Trolls were at home in the underside of bridge, and often laid traps for careless travelers. Some, however, favored brute force over brainy approaches. The one universal truth to Bridge Trolls, however, was a simple one: pay the toll or be devoured by the troll.

Temperance unsheathed her sword and stepped forward. A sudden flurry of movement was barely visible beneath the bridge–little more than a large, dark shape that moved in the shadows.

Aranza elbowed Monty. “Don’t think we get off the hook if let her die, Monty,” she pointed out. “Flip a copper to see who goes to save her?”

Monty sighed. “You’re not wrong, but we don’t have time,” he replied. He palmed a dagger, the flash of silver gone as quickly as it appeared, and walked with purposes to meet Temperance before the Bridge Troll did.

“Let’s be reasonable here, my goodly Guild…handler? No, that’s not the word I’m looking for, is it,” Monty said as he stepped between Temperance and the last step onto the bridge. “You are clearly a Paladin of action, and that’s admirable.”

“We cannot let a monster dictate the terms by which our people live,” Temperance replied. She opened her mouth to speak again, only to shut it abruptly. Her eyes grew wide.

The rumbling grew from a subtle accompaniment to the river’s babbling below to a cacophony on par with an avalanche roaring down a mountainside.

“Monty, you were supposed to stop her,” Aranza called out as she ran over to join her traveling companions. “Not step onto the bridge, you gnollwit!” She smiled sheepishly up at the Bridge Troll.

The troll towered over the trio, at least twice Monty’s height. Muscles, built for scaling cliffs and clinging to the undersides of bridges (that also served their owner well in ventures such as smashing careless adventurers’ skulls), bulged within the troll’s stone-like slate gray skin. Long, curved fangs jutted out of the troll’s gaping maw at wild angles as it returned the smile.

“Goodness me, what a curious predicament we’ve got ourselves here,” the Bridge Troll said.

Temperance assumed a defensive pose while Monty moved out from between her and the troll while he muttered a series of apologies.

“You’re right,” Temperance said. “You’ve extorted your last gold piece from Ankheim and its good people!”

The Bridge Troll cocked his head, his large red eyes squinted in visible confusion. “The good people of Ankheim?” he roared with laughter. “You Guild types are all the same. Proper jesters and fools, really.”

Aranza stifled a chuckle. “I feel obligated to disagree presently, but say for the sake of curiosity I’d like to know what makes this particular Guild fool a fool in this case?”

Temperance shot a quick, dagger-filled glance over her shoulder at Aranza, who simply shrugged in reply.

“Ankheim weren’t Ankheim forever, you misinformed miscreants,” the Bridge Troll sneered. “That’s enough talk, methinks. Either pay the toll, or…Well, surely you lot know the rest.”

Follow the Ashes – The Road Beyond Ruination

Posted on by under Follow The Ashes

Cas approached the door and opened it. The Simulation Room beyond had not fully reset yet; trees and sky glitched in and out of realization with color schemes that did not suit them. The artificial Raph flickered in and out of existence like a ghost unable to manifest itself.

“Nothing for me out there,” Cas said to herself, uncertain if she was right but determined to press on to someplace new. She had finally gotten answers, but they left her with even more questions. Gavin’s death did nothing to help her.

She reached into her pocket and shivered when her fingers glided over the cold metal of Gavin’s cybernetic eye, still coated in a soft layer of ashes from immediately after his final moments. She withdrew her hand from her pocket and wiped it on her pants. She reached for the panel by the door and tried entering a different combination before opening the door. A small light panel above the door blinked red with each attempted combination, and each time she opened the door the same Simulation Room awaited her on the other side.

Cas noticed a separate panel to the left of the door. It was an older interface that lacked a touchscreen or mechanical keys.

“A key card reader,” Cas said “I suppose I should be surprised.” She ran the card key through the reader and waited with bated breath. The light above the door flashed red briefly. It flashed a second time, and then turned solid green and remained lit.

The door remained shut. The room shuddered suddenly, and Cas felt subtle rumblings of movement beneath her feet. She shut her eyes and focused, but struggled to determine which way the room may started moving. Almost as soon as the room had started moving, it shuddered to a stop.

The doors slide open and revealed hallway. The walls glittered a gold that, even at a glance, was clearly more than paint. The floors were carpeted with vibrant red carpeting. Cas stepped into the hallway. A grid of green light illuminated the ceiling. It moved downwards, scanning the corridor, and passed over Cas before she could step back.

“ID mismatch detected,” a computerized voice said. “Speak your name and business or you will be eliminated for trespassing. Have a nice day!”

Piece 17 – A Simple Mix-Up

Posted on by under A Puzzling New World

Sophia had turned quite red, her fists balled at her sides. “We are most certainly not servants of the Morrigan,” she snapped again as the two skeletons continued to guide her and Izzy along the winding mountain trail.

“Truth!” Izzy said. “I don’t even know what the Morrigan are to be a servant of one. Them? It? Whatever. Did I mention I was at a stop while traveling through space before ending up here?”

The skeletons stopped abruptly, turning to face their captives.

“She said she was in space,” the one skeleton said.

“We’re all in space, idiot,” the other skeleton replied, waving its arms in a sweeping gesture.

Izzy nodded. “That’s not an inaccurate statement, but I meant more along the lines of zipping around the stars and visiting other worlds,” she replied. “But a bit more sciencey and a little less magical.”

The two skeletons exchanged glances.

“Air’s a bit thin this high up,” the one skeleton said.

The other skeleton nodded. “Makes sense. Anyway, off we go. Stop dawdling. Her Majesty will sort you out.” The skeletons began their forward march along the mountain path once again, and powerful magics in their gauntlets tugged at the simple shackles around Izzy and Sophia’s wrists. They followed, the spellwork potent enough to force compliance.

Sophia glanced over at Izzy as they walked. “This must be a little frightening for you, I’m sure,” she said. “Though they may appear a bit unsettling, I assure you the denizens of Rhimeghast are very lawfully aligned. We just have a little confusion to sort out.”

Izzy laughed. “You’re very kind, but I’m not frightened,” she said. “This is like living out a movie! You, uh…Probably don’t have those. Like living out a story!”

Sophia smiled. “I suppose you’re right,” she replied. “Let’s just hope they don’t throw us in the Rhimeghast dungeons,” she added quietly to herself.

The transition was subtle and gradual. Shapes in the snow gradually gave way to sections of hillside with stone doors and barred windows. Izzy looked around, trying to take every detail in and commit them to memory. The path ahead forked around the outside of a vast opening at the height of the mountain.

“Behold,” one skeleton said. “The Heart of Rhimeghast, our grand palace.” They gestured ahead at a vast crater that occupied much of the mountain’s peak.

Izzy leaned as far forward as the spellwork allowed. “Is it invisible?” she asked. “Or can I only see it if I’m dead. Not dead? Unalive? Whatever the word is.”

“Departed is the preferred nomenclature around these parts,” one of the skeletons offered. “And no. Mind your steps or you’ll get to Her Majesty a lot faster than you’d like.”

They approached the edge of the crater and its details came into view.

“Oh damn,” Izzy muttered.

A series of long, interwoven paths snaked along the wall of the crater downwards. Iron bridges spanned the void with lanterns that dangled from them to lend light to the furthest depths. Numerous skeletons and zombies milled about. Specters and spirits drifted through the air, focused on the tasks with which they were busy. Torchlight burned brightly along the walls, casting curious and concerning forms along the paths.

“The tomes do not do it justice,” Sophia said, mouth agape. “Oh damn indeed.”

“Down we go, prisoners,” one of the skeletons said without looking back. “Careful steps, please, because we’d like for Her Majesty to be able to question you.”

High above, Badb circled, her shadow massive on the ground. She had followed since the cave, but maintained a significant distance.

“Curious,” Sophia said.

“That bird, you mean? Terrifying,” Izzy replied. “Looks like it could swoop down and eat us.”

“Yet she hasn’t,” Sylvia said. “I wonder why.”

The path down was far more perilous than it looked, littered with loose stones and scattered bones. Both Izzy and Sophia carefully watched each step, their attention focused on their feet and less on the path ahead. The sudden stop proved jarring, but not as jarring as the sight they beheld upon looking up.

At the center of the crater’s void, held aloft by a series of concentric bridges that branched outwards, was a brilliant crystal chamber. Its exterior reflected the world around it. A massive pair of gilded doors towered ahead, and as they approached the doors swung inwards with a deliberate slowness.

“Enter,” boomed a voice from within the chamber.

The skeletons guided Izzy and Sophia into the room, and the doors slammed shut behind them. Glittering crystals lined the walls of the simple room, giving light to the otherwise dark space.

At the center of the chamber stood a colossal throne, and above that throne hovered a frost Lich. Chains of ice circled her skeletal form, a crown of jagged icicles atop her head. Glittering points of blue starlight emanated from within her seemingly bottomless eye sockets.

“Presenting Her Majesty, Lady Valeria Rhimeghast,” the skeletons said together in a way that had clearly been rehearsed and repeated numerous times.

Izzy bowed with a flourish, a gesture made all the more difficult but impressive thanks to the shackles that bound her to the skeletons. Sophia quickly followed suit.

“We found these agents of the Morrigan below, creeping up towards our territory,” one of the skeletons said.

Sophia stood. “Your Majesty, Lady Rhimeghast, I must respectfully disagree,” she said.

“Fools!” Lady Rhimeghast spat.

“Oh, they’re in for it,” the one skeleton said.

“One does love to see it when Her Majesty doles out judgement on those who bow to the Morrigan,” the other skeleton said.

Lady Rhimeghast shook her head. “You two are the fools, you boneheaded buffoons!” she roared. “Have you not seen Badb high above? How she has maintained a cautious distance? Do you think she would have done so if these were her minions?”

Izzy chuckled. “Minions.”

“You have brought me a keeper of knowledge from our world and a traveler unmoored from her reality,” Lady Rhimeghast said. “Her simply being here has thrown things out of alignment, and I intend to find out why she is here. Leave us!” She snapped her fingers, and the shackles fell from Sophia and Izzy’s wrists.

The two skeletons turned and fled without further comment.

“Now, child from another time,” Lady Rhimeghast said. “What do we do about you?”

NaNoWriMo Victory (and returning to serials)

Posted on by under Misadventures in Fiction

I told myself I wasn’t going to write tonight because, quite frankly, National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo for short) kicked my ass. Thoroughly. We’re talking minimal sleep for the sake of hitting or exceeding par each night.

So I clearly lied to myself to write this because I was raised Catholic and wear that guilt like a damn cape. So here we are with me writing a blog post on my phone. Yep.

And I DID IT. I met my goal! I won NaNoWriMo! I concluded this year’s NaNoWriMo at 50,034 words and I feel terrific about such a victory. Here’s the details worth sharing:

  • A Princess, A Lich, and Some Murders (a tentative title) is an idea I’ve been playing around with for a while. Close to a decade at this point.
  • I had written about 100 pages of its true first draft some years ago, then scrapped it.
  • This story kept popping up in the forefront of my thoughts throughout 2020 until I decided it would be what I use for NaNoWriMo.
  • The most hectic night of writing resulted in me going into a workday with around 3 hours of sleep. Would not recommend.
  • The story is only about halfway done. I’ll be easing my way through the rest of this draft.

What next, then? The serials will return, right?

Yes! Of course! Just not this week. My wife’s birthday is Friday, and my focus will be on making her fantastic food and doing what I can so she has a nice, low key day.

The four serials so many of you have shown such love will return next week. Looking forward to resuming those adventures together, folks.

Stay safe out there and take care, folks.

Where have all the serials gone?

Posted on by under Misadventures in Fiction

“Happy Friday!” is a thing I often shout across the void of the internet. It’s already almost halfway through November! How time certainly flies when the world is on fire and the President is actively casting doubt on the very bedrock of the voting process. Such fun.

By now some of you have noticed an absence of Fantasy Friday and Sci-Fi Saturdays. On the plus side, this reminds me that people are actually reading them – thanks for that! On the downside, it means I should’ve made up my mind sooner. I owe some explanation as to what happened.

November is National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. It’s that magical time of year during which people try to write 50,000 words – the equivalent to an average length novel. After taking last year off, and with a great deal of encouragement from my wife, I decided to tackle this beast of a challenge. During a Presidential election cycle that has been nothing short of off-the-rails. While also still working my day job.

I am not a clever man.

My original goal was to continue the serials uninterrupted, but it became very clear that was not going to happen within the first week. Writing novels is exhausting. I’ve been staying up past midnight to hit the average word count needed to make it to 50k by the end of November (approximately 1,667 words per day).

So what does this mean for the serials? Glad you asked, hypothetical reader. The serials will resume in November. I’m still working hard on ideas for them as their stories aren’t complete and some of the details are whim decisions.

Sorry to surprise folks with this sudden pause, but I promise I’ll make it worth it when they resume.

Stay safe out there and take care, folks.

Warpt Factor – Installment 17

Posted on by under Warpt Factor

First Officer deCourville was the first to speak. “I don’t suppose this is part of the ride, is it?” he asked. “Some kind of perception filter or transporter that swaps out people from other groups, perhaps?”

The new arrival leapt out of the card, knives suddenly in her hands. “By the Gods, a giant bug!”

“That’s incredibly rude,” First Officer deCourville sneered back.

CMO Carter stepped out of the cart, hands up. She approached slowly, stopping just outside of arm’s reach. The variety of neon lights highlighting cartoonish spiders and specters cast strange shadows around them.

“I have a hunch you’re onto something, First Officer,” CMO Carter said. “You’re not part of this attraction, are you? I”m Melissa Carter, Chief Medical Officer. What’s your name?”

Professor Everest nodded approvingly. “A very Captain Warpt approach, for sure.”

“Curian,” Curian replied, the daggers still in her hands. “What world is this? What kind of sneaky witchcraft did you use to bring me here, and why?”

Fontaine scoffed. “Witchcraft. What backwards planet did you tumble off of? There’s no such thing.”

Curian glared in response. “I’ve got half a mind to squash you,” she replied.

Professor Everest stepped out of the cart.

“Damn, you’re tall,” Curian said.

Professor Everest nodded. “You’d be shocked how often people mention as much. Professor Brannigan Everest. The First Officer you keep referring to as a bug, which I should point out is more than a touch racist, is Fontaine deCourville.”

“Well, I’m sorry for the bug comments,” Curian said. “And if not witchcraft, why am I here? Last thing I remember, Badb had chased Sophia and me into a cave.”

Professor Everest raised an eyebrow. “Badb, you said? One of the three Morrigan?”

CMO Carter examined her wristcomm. She tapped away at its interface, eyes darting along its small screen as she did.

“Very curious,” CMO Carter said last.

Curian leaned forward, eyebrows arched. She nodded slowly, and when her impatience reached its breaking point she spoke up.

“What’s very curious?” Curian asked.

CMO Carter looked up, her eyes drawn to the daggers. She took a step back. “Apologies. There was a curious ion pulse, but no clear source to be found. It briefly knocked the power out, which left the shields to this park down for just long enough for…” She paused, then gestured to Curian.

“Wonder if our Captain’s where you ought to be,” Professor Everest mused.

“Gods, I hope not,” Curian said. “He’d be in good hands, though. Sophia’s quite clever and would keep him safe.”

“She,” CMO Carter corrected.

Curian’s eyes grew wide, her smile immense. “She? I’m sorry, your Captain is a woman?”

CMO Carter nodded. “Captain Isabelle Warpt, though I suspect she would want you to call her Izzy,” she said.

“Women can be Captains of a vessel in this world? Without, you know, resorting to piracy?”

CMO Carter nodded, unable to not smile in response.

“Still, she’s not likely safe,” Curian said. “Can any of you tell me what we need to next? I need to get back right away. I was on a very important quest.”

CMO Carter tapped a finger against her chin. “We can’t necessarily create the perfect conditions by which you arrived,” she explained. “But perhaps we can emulate them to an extent. We would need to get to the shield generator and briefly disable it. Then the rest depends on luck.”

First Officer deCourville chittered anxiously. “This is highly unorthodox! And for a complete stranger!”

“Who is only here because something stole me from where I was,” Curian said.

First Officer deCourville turned to Professor Everest. “Surely you cannot be okay with this insane plot? It could very well kill us all, and at the very least we would be banned for life from ever returning here!”

Professor Everest shook his head. “It’s worth a try to get our new friend her back on course,” he replied. “First, though, perhaps you’d best put those away.” He pointed to the blades glimmering in Curian’s hands.

Curian chuckled, offering a sheepish grin. “Suppose you’re right,” she said, sheathing the daggers. “So. Let’s go undo this heinous trickery!”