ScorpioPerk

Ok, so our DMs world is completely Homebrew in case people wondered. The scene of last sessions event was… simple in design, complex due to shenanigans.

We are in Blackwell. a city of outcasts and cutthroats ruled by people with iron fists. It was named after the blackwell. a pit so deep no one could see the bottom. it was used as body disposal and execution.

We are at the bottom. After having survived the fall (thank you wizard for feather fall) in order to deliver a talking frog to an ancient… ancient dragon that lives through a locked door at the bottom. Don’t ask questions.

Welp, turns throwing a bunch of dead bodies down a hole without funeral rites causes a LOT of undead. whom we ha

So this just happened and I believe the DM made the right call to end the session. So, our party after a day of blowing up breweries (tldr dwarven blood feud) are reading at a tavern called the Daring Deer, which is ironically being terrorized occasionally by our party members deer companion, Buck Wild (tldr we lost track of him, and his crimes are many).

Anyways, the entire party gets poisoned while carousing, and we all wake up in individual cells. Didn't take us long to figure out that we were under the cities gladiatorial arena. Thankfully, we learn from a messenger that the original plan (cause of course the Dwarven blood feud wasn't over) was to have each of us be let up one by one to

Year 4783, 4th of August, Terran Calendar

“Man, it’s been a while since we’ve been back here.” Dave whistled at the impressive sight of the country sized space port. A holo-board featuring advertisements switched to a WANTED alert for the human mate-marked by Princess Ferasia of the Gervisian Empire. Dave immediately deflated before getting out of his pilot seat and going down to the mess hall.

Jerry stepped up and got into the seat without a word. Captain O’Connell couldn’t help but be impressed at how well the junior pilot had taken up the challenge. Jerry cleared his throat before sending a docking request.

A screen appeared showing a very tired looking Verki, its reptilian-like head h

Hi all! I am experimenting with creating audio for my stories. This is the first attempt. How did I do? Should I continue? In order to not violate the rules (thanks for informing me by the way) here's the description:

Tales From the T.S.S. Morrigan is a series of short stories centered in the same universe as my Para-Symbiosis series. While each story is occasionally in order, that is not always the case, and don't always follow the crew.

This first tale was the very first. Before the time stamps and before I was even made part of the wiki. A simple answer to a writing prompt on how you don't tell a human they can't do something. So when I got it in my head to create audio for my stories,

Crystal

Her mind raced. A fucking minotaur. A maze dwelling beast that killed all who entered its home. What was he doing here? Why was she following him? She knew that answer as she thought it, curiosity. If she could learn to wield magic, then… What are the possibilities? Thoughts of fireballs and lightning immediately sprung up.

“Wait, vampire?” she asked hesitantly as she sped up her pace to walk beside him. “Won’t she… you know, treat me like food?”

Al snorted, “Nah, or… well, most likely not,” he began. “She prefers redheads when going after females, and since you’re with me she shouldn’t touch you.” He scratched his chin for a moment, “I should warn you that the Boss is

Crystal

“Hazelnut, cream only and a corn muffin please,” Crystal asked the smiling barista.

“Sure thing miss, here is your change and I’ll be right back,” She turned and began on Crystal's order.

Crystal turned and was about to walk to the pick-up counter when something caught her eye. She looked at the barista again, huh, weird… She could have sworn the barista's ears had suddenly become elongated and sharp, something Crystal thought elves would have.

They were round, normal shaped ears. Crystal stepped over to the correct counter to make room for the next customer. “Thanks,” she said as her barista handed her her coffee and muffin.

“You’re welcome, have a nice day!” The baris

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Simulation 3209

Objective: Save The Village

Resources: Anti-Super Black Ops Unit

Commencing… Simulation Complete

Results: All Hostiles Eliminated. Night Time Activities Allowed For Easy Kills. Villagers
Involved Mercy Killed.

“SEAN!” Commander Derkit stood before the supposedly the first self-learning AI, glaring at it with a vehemence.

“Yes sir?” Sean, the Simulation Engineer in charge of the AI’s training, came to a stop a few feet behind the commander.

“Why the FUCK is it still using the hostages as a fucking distraction?!” It was supposed to be learning how to deal with life and death situations in a way that garnered public sympathy, instead it allowed… he suppres

“Alright Lilly, you can do this.” She shook out her hands, and thanked whatever gods were out there that her power changed her clothes as well. Raising her head, she strode out of the ally and into the busy street with a forced confidence she really wasn’t feeling.

People stared, what did she expect? A short masked woman in a homemade getup drew attention. Luckily it was all just curiosity. While known superheroes and heroines sponsored up and coming academy students, those who couldn’t afford and wished to be heroes could start out like they did back in the old days… homemade costumes and all.

She did her best to ignore the looks, keeping her eyes peeled for anything. Sure, she lived i

(AN: thank you u/steptwoandahalf, I meant to post it here as well but it slipped my mind! This is from a writing prompt from haso, so if it seems familiar its from there!)

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Year 4751, 2nd of May, Terran Calendar

"Ok everyone, are we ready?" Stephon Delecrue, Europe's representative addressed the five others who made up the Terran Diplomatic Force.

"Project Fine Art is ready to go." Vivian Le'Dane, North America's representative, fingered a trigger. Everyone glared at her. "What? Hope for the best, plan for the worst. We agreed on this dammit!"

"Maybe someone less... trigger happy, should hold the dooms day button?" Erit Conrost, Africa's representative, said what everyon

(AN: Hi! This is my first time posting on this channel, if I break any rules with this, post it's not on purpose! I normally write for fun in sci-fi channels, but fantasy isn't as well received, so I'm here! This little short features a princess, a king, their relationship, and the consequences of said relation. I will make it longer in the next two weeks, I just don't know where I want to take it, hence the critique.)

The king barged into my room panic stricken. Upon seeing me sipping tea in my riding leathers, he sighed with relief. "Did you decide not to go to the duchesses tea party then? Simply forgot to inform the maids?"

I let my own sigh of disappointment slip from my lips as I se

( AN: This is a edited/added to version of my comment on a writing prompt from r/humansarespaceorcs, so if it seems familiar you've seen it there, and this will be crossposted as promised)

Year 4782, 14th of November, Terran Calendar

Captain Bob O’Connell stared at Artemis who returned alone from shore leave. “What. Did you. Do.” Artemis blinked, looked around, and pointed at herself. “Yes you!”

“Nothing!” She raised her hands defensively. “Dave chaperoned me as usual, we went out drinking the first night cause you know, celebrating a successful run, and we were harassed by a bunch of Verki!” The captain's eye twitched. “I didn’t do anything this time! Dave did his thing and tried to de