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Literature
My very own cocoon!
A smile grows on my face as I return to my apartment. Today was the day I achieve a little dream of mine for my lovely pet was waiting for me. A few months ago, I picked up a spider and named him Silky. The reason why returning to Silky is special is because he's an unknown species of spider! I couldn't find anything like him on the internet. Not only that but he's big. When I first found him, he looked like a hand sized jumping spider. As I fed him over the months leading up till now, he grew monstrous. Silky is now half my size if I was laying down, though I am a short at four foot eight inches, but that still means he's over two feet in le
Literature
Creature Bio. Latex Slime
Creature type: Slime (Advanced)
Appearance: An amorphous blob of black, viscous, semi-liquid. OR an unassuming orb of black, stretchy rubber.
Origin: Alchemic construct. Presumably created as a defensive measure for the purpose of capturing and detaining intruders. The first record of the creation of a Latex Slime is dated at only a few centuries after the first Common Slime.
Biology: Like any slime the Latex Slime is a self-replicating mass of dense, magic infused liquid. It has no need for sustenance due to its magical self-replicating nature. However, without access to moisture its body will dry out and harden into slime residue, rapidl
Literature
Monsume: The Dryad Trail
Hiking on Monsume can be a very dangerous hobby. There are just so many monster girls waiting to reach out and snap you up after all. Brian, Henry, and Tyler didn’t care. Hell, it made the whole endeavor feel so much more exciting. Nothing like a little danger to spice things up. The three men had been hiking together for about a week but now they came to a literal fork in the road. Going right was marked ‘Dryad Trail’; going straight ahead was marked ‘Raiju Trail’; and finally going left was marked ‘Alruane Trail’. Brian had done his research. The Dryad Trail took you through a quiet stretch of woods. That was more his speed. He could often be found climbing into their branches as a child. Yes, he was always at home in the trees. He looked up at them wistfully as he walked along. He crashed headlong into someone on the trail before him, knocking them to the ground. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” “It’s alright,” the strange looking woman at his feet said. “No, no. I should have been looking
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Arcane rubber, magical latex, grabby grass, peculiar plants; these are the threats that lie within the Old Wood. For years, it has been avoided by all but the most foolish or demanding travelers - but no more. A squadron of trained soldiers, accompanied by a renowned mercenary, is sent in to find and eliminate the threat.
But the Old Woods hold many secrets, and the faerie creatures of the wood do not take kindly to intruders...
****
Rossem Klyn is back and better than ever. Pay attention for Part 3, coming soon!
Previously...
The Old WoodBaronette Cordelia huffed as loudly as she could. It would be unbecoming of a noblewoman to show any form of weakness. This included explaining to the peasantry that she was anxious. "Nervous' and "hurried" were not words associated with a strong ruler.
Still, she wished that the caravan would resume, and soon. Cordelia was eager to reach Boundaria - lateness was not associated with a strong ruler, either.
The site of the breakdown was at least aesthetically pleasing. The forest was old, old wood; never before had these ancient trees been felled for lumber. The only sign of human presence was the dirt road that cut through, and even that could be easily lost. It was a dangerous place; not a kind place to outsiders, and certainly not a kind place to lost baronettes. No, she happily sat inside the carriage, eagerly awaiting her entourage to replace a broken axle. She sighed rather loudly.
It wasn't clear if her any of her three bodyguards had heard her exasperated sigh. She knocked twice
The story continues...
The Old Wood - Part 3 Rossem didn’t like castles. He liked visiting them, but he wouldn’t want to live in one. Mortal men had a habit of building them for function first, and form second. The aesthetics ended up being ‘tacked-on’, trying too hard to appear imposing or elegant. What was worse was that the functionality resulted in a thoroughly uncomfortable place to actually live. Long hallways were chilly. Courtyards were noisome. They were flammable. The elfhome was a stand against these principles. He had built a series of connected wooden structures throughout the treetops, connected with long vines, short walkways, and branches he had grown himself. Though he hadn’t had any visitors in a few decades, he had tried to be hospitable to any possible interlopers - the rubbery membrane that supported the walkways was inert, and not the cloying, seeking magic that would quickly restrain and encase anyone he deemed to be an intruder.
Mature
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I want Rossem to win. I like Taylin, but Rossem is just so much more fun.