Coming Full Circle

The port city of Paranaeth, Lukia.

Kyas examined the keen edge of the elegant long sword. It was razor sharp and shone brightly in the morning sun. Kyas felt the weight. It was well balanced and not too heavy.

“A fine blade,” confirmed the merchant. Kyas nodded and continued to examine the blade. “For you I’ll only charge fifteen pieces of gold.”

It was a princely sum of money but in no way out of his price range.

“No thanks,” smiled Kyas as he replaced the blade and continued along the market. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Peter.


Betrayed – A John Cobb Adventure

1897 – Darkest Africa
Barely daring to breathe John Cobb remained as silent as was humanly possible. Just below him, around twelve feet or so down the slope, the headhunters stalked past. They looked left and right eager to spot the ‘white devil’ who had so far eluded them. Their glistening, dark, black bodies contrasted with the white, elaborate war paint, and in-your-face head dresses. They were not trying to blend in to the surroundings. They were at war. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Trent.


Hidden Honor

Driving from behind his shield Lintharin powered huge overhand strikes down onto the enemy. Shoulder to shoulder the melee ensued with skirmish lines being forgotten and now totally un-discernable. Brute strength allowed the Nemenon warrior to free up his sword arm and carve up the enemy with his keen-edged long sword. Standing over six foot and built like an ox, the thirty year old, plate-mailed, veteran-mercenary was a solid combat platform and a perfect example of what one could expect to face in the Iron Companies front line. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Peter.


POLICE STORY – Chapter One

Chapter 1 – Rookies on Patrol

Constable Jack Peters quickly ducked down behind his Nissan 4×4 patrol van as the three heavily armed men exited the Vincent Park Shopping Complex. The trio walked out onto the upper level of the parking lot. Crouching Peters edged his way towards the cab of the police van. Opening the passenger’s door he reached inside for the radio. Suddenly the sound of automatic gunfire shattered the daily hum of the shopping centre. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Rowan.


A Christmas Tale

Ho-Ho-whore! Merry friggan Christmas, he thought as he watched her pack her bags. How could it have happened? Jessica hummed a preppy carol as she folded and packed the Dolce and Gabbana top he had bought her just a few weeks ago. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Peter.


The Carpenter

Mendelhein 319 AC
Bergville – The border territories.

Working the broom Grayden Chalice swept the dust and wood shavings across the slate floor of his workshop, and out the door. It was just on dawn in Bergville, and the forty-two year old carpenter was already up and getting ready to start work. The crisp late autumn morning saw clouds of steam greet his every breath. Standing shy of six foot, his dark hair flecked with grey, the quiet, moderately good looking man was mostly unassuming. He was decently built, as one would expect from someone who worked with his hands, and even though he was in his forties, he had avoided the dreaded middle aged spread common to most men his age. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Peter.


The Plunkett Murder

17 April 1922 – Boston Mass.

Thirty-three year old Harry Shaw walked up to the front door of 321 Kenisco Knolls, and knocked. He stepped back and rubbed his chin. It felt a little peculiar being clean shaven, as recently the former police detective and war veteran had taken to sporting a healthy chin of stubble. It was also a little out of the ordinary being sober, despite the 18th Amendment. Harry was a heavy drinker. Whiskey was his poison, but it didn’t quite dull the horrors of the Great War. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Trent.


The War at Home

The pain was excrutiating, but Adrian Gossard knew he could not give up. Digging his nails into the mud of the ditch he dragged himself out inch by inch. The cold rain of France still pelted down. It had been a good three hours since the American sniper had been discovered by the German patrol out in No-Mans-Land. Beaten and shot twice, once in the right thigh and again in the shoulder, he had been tossed into a water filled shell crater and left for dead. Adrian didn’t know if the violent shivering was from the night cold or the loss of blood, or both? Lying half in and half out the ditch the twenty-four year old hovered between life and death. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Trent.


Sky Raiders

“Damn this guys good!” exclaimed Captain Roland Watson as he jerked back on the stick and powered up. The nose of the Mosquito bomber lifted and the plane climbed sharply. A deadly stream of 20mm nicked the tail-plane, but mostly missed the nimble, agile twin engine light bomber. Roland had always wanted to fly fighters and flew his bird like one. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Peter.


Beyond the Call

Chapter One

The young boy hoisted the small sturdy wooded side table up with all his might and staggered away from the wagon. Despite its size the table was deceptively heavy as it was made from the dense mahogany wood. The young boy, Bron, was also only ten. He made his way down the stone steps leading to the side entrance of the mighty stone keep. At the door his father, who was coming out, took the table from him.

“Boy,” he growled, “I said take the small stuff. I will handle these.” He took the table in one hand.

“It wasn’t that heavy pa,” he panted, looking up at the big man.

Despite his gruff nature Arlen was a kind man and he loved his son more than life itself. He however kept up a mask most of the time of a tough, mercenary veteran. But those days were long past. Read the rest of this entry »

This post was submitted by Peter.