Dinner that night was tenderized venison steaks, that had been hand battered and fried in a heavy iron skillet till golden brown. My Aunt cooked a good many of them, the sides included home-made mashed potatoes made from scratch brown gravy, collard greens seasoned with bits of bacon and of course the staple at many southern tables. Cornbread. The beverage of choice of course was sweet tea for me, my aunt had a glass of red wine and my uncle Sidney had a brown bottle of Yuengling, this was really his third bottle of the evening.

New hairdos, a mani-pedi for Greg, and impassioned, heartfelt confessions pave the way for Greg and Jill's future as Lisa and Blake.

Delphine waved her hand dismissively. "He went to look for that idiot Amber."
After a quick glance around, she leaned in. "Listen to me, Max!
Do you want to know who Oswald is? Do you want to know why he's Amber's plus one?"

I vaguely remembered I was glued into the skimpy costume. No, wait, had that been only in the dream?

Chapter 1

My mother was not a happy person. I’m not saying that she was angry all the time, perhaps more like sad. As I grew up I found a new word which described her, morose.

She lived a normal life, looking after me and my dad. I sometimes caught her smiling at him but she never really smiled at me. She looked like she was smiling, sometimes, but the smile never reached her sad eyes.

Just a Lark

It was all just a lark, a little harmless fun. I mean, what could go wrong?

Meagan's Tail

A new Universe, a New story!

Intermission of our story

Pixie time!

Will our new Pixie convince the Drow twins she is worth saving?

I suppose this is all my own doing really. I had been working as Mr. Owen’s assistant for 6 months now. I loved the job he was a nice guy. Very generous to his staff and if the company was doing well we all got bonuses. Yes, Owen tech was going places. My dream of buying a narrow boat and living free on the canals of Britain could be realized before I was too old to enjoy it.

An attempt to re-create the Stormveil in a controlled laboratory environment resulted in abject failure twelve years and six months ago. It was found that by using crystals recovered from a crashed Mah’Kur vessel, we could approximate the Stormveil to a certain extent, but the laboratory was decimated. Furthermore, Doctor Cornelius Abraham, the proctor of the experiment promptly vanished, only to return in the same spot ten years hence, having not aged a day. 

-On the Nature of the Stormveil ‘Page 9826, Volume Eighteen’

Once believed to be a gift from the Goddess herself, advances in the field of botany have come to show that the luminescence exhibited by the Hilter fern, seen across Fadraiye is a biological phenomenon. The roots of the fern, in their nocturnal form, secrete a bioluminescent substance that reacts with the soil around it. While the fern is luminous on its own, those that grow near the fens of the Marshlands are especially notable as they react with the peat moss, manifesting a pool of glowing light.

-On Fadraiye Plant Life - Page 1087

Keir, Von and Hanina were escorted through the halls of the keep at the center of Desolate Fort to the main hall. The escort watched them warily, particularly the ghostly maid who floated silently behind Keir. The necromancer wondered how the dignitaries would act when they met. So far he'd been greeted mostly by fear and wariness, he could understand why they felt like that, but it was getting annoying.

“Shall I introduce you as Keir or Keira?” Von asked.

The fall of Hybra was not necessarily an economic disaster, though it did sever us from our supply of precious gems and metals. Rather, it was a time of great upset as we realized that even gods could fall, and we couldn’t help but wonder if we would be next.

-Lord Radon, ‘On the fall of the Ma’Kur’

Part 2
Fen and Fern

“Your concern over the Lyra situation is unfounded; yes, her movement is limited and her education is tightly controlled, but she lives in a gilded cage crafted by the misdeeds of Micah Lavoric. In truth, the girl should count herself among the fortunate that she still draws breath.

-From the Desk of Lady Carola Jenwise, Duchess of Klocby