A start
The dragon roared as it died, shaking the ground beneath our feet. We could see the arcing lights of whatever high-born magic killed the giant lizard as they stained the sky and burnt the clouds. We just didn’t care. That was the high-born, doing their best to waste our world. We weren’t them, follow? No, we kept up with what we were doing. Well. The others kept up. I kept watching them. They beat on Ken a while longer and then just got bored, drifting away in little clumps. I took notes. Technique: who favored which arm, who liked to kick, to bite, that sort of thing. It came in handy to know. My parents had been high-born, but fell from grace due to serving the crown too well. No one talks about it, that sort of thing couldn’t happen,…
Ä TÄLË ÖF MËTÄL ËÄRTH
Gaändylf the Rocking came down and knocked on the door. Bustling noises could be heard inside and Gaändylf waited, if impatiently. His fingers twisted and flexed, a kickass air guitar solo formed, with his wizardly ways of rock. The door opened, at last, for keeping a Wizard of Rock waiting could be dangerous indeed. Bilbö looked up at his visitor, his old friend who sported a long flowing gray beard, forked down the middle, and eyebrows that came out over the brim of his hat. “Bilbö,” Gaändylf said, “it is good you are home. I have in mind an adventure for you.” “An adventure?” Bilbö exclaimed, patting down all of his pockets, “I haven’t even had Headbanger’s Ball lunch yet!” “Never mind that,” Gaändylf harrumphed impatiently, “let me in so that I can tell you of my idea.” “Very well,”…
TURN TO PAIGE NEVER (post 2)
Not sure if I’ll keep posting bits of this as I go but … hey enjoy it while you can. Here’s the first part, if you haven’t read it: Turn to Paige Never (post 1) – and now to pick up where that left off: Michael blinked a few times, trying to wrap his head around any of the things he was seeing or hearing. His brain ticked over and sputtered, failing miserably. Paige Never, for her part, headed across the room at a meaningful stride. She hung the hangers of clothes on the inside door of the bathroom and started to run the shower. “Wait, what are—” Michael started to ask. “Hey, I have dibs. This is my place, and really you’ve just got some demon insides on you. I have a few decades of dust and historical debris…
Wian Bhite – The Worst Detective in Deductive sans Reasoning.
As soon as I heard the door close I knew I had found the killer. It was, to be honest, just that easy. The woman sat down and looked up at me, as if to say “What do you want?” “What do you want?” she asked me. “I want to know why you killed Billy-Bob the Burger Snob,” I said, trying to not sneeze. I snoze anyway. “Billy-Bob the Burger Snob?” she raised an eyebrow. It raised the stakes. I razed myself of any feelings and pressed on. “Mascot of the Snobby Burger chain? He’s dead. You killed him.” “I’ve never even heard of that clown…”