WyllCKP

@wyllckp

I like to write books and stuff. Paladins are best class. I got a website:

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WyllCKP@wyllckp· 24d

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

These Singardian savages shall be the first victims to my holy retribution.

To bring fear to those unafraid of death, and to take The Dragon Orb in the name of Velhien, Mother of Moonlight; The first mission in his quest as the Umu’Alqa’s divine executioner.
Zedar reached for the bars of his cage, and as he did, he heard one of the arcanists screech in terror. Frantically, he shouted, “H-He’s alive! The Tridian is still alive!”

WyllCKP@wyllckp· 25d

Today's snip has revealed a typo! That's fun...off to edit now... #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Emecar wasn’t sure what he could say to that. He wanted to disagree, but deep down he felt the same way. He was angry at not being believed–at being seen as inferior–but he still needed to help them. If he gave up, and fae did sneak into the city, who would get hurt next. He stared down at Emli’s bracelet on his wrist.

Protect the innocent…

“You don’t really mean that,” said Emecar half-heartedly.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· 25d

Goddaggit!! I forgot to post yesterday again!! Anyways... #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“No, I’m…” Emecar felt the world start to turn; perhaps rest wasn’t such a bad idea. He could smell the lingering alcohol in his breath and figured it certainly wasn’t helping them find work. He sighed and said, “I think that’d be for the best.”
“That’s right, listen to your big brother,” said Rukifelth. He was smiling, so that was good, thought Emecar. However, often times his brother only smiled when he had something to hide. Without arguing, Emecar took what little they’d bought from the market and made his way home.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· 27d

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“Elliot, where are you—” Something was wrong. Albert’s words felt like they were caught in his throat. Then he heard a strange skittering. Out of the corner of his eye, Albert thought he saw a dog rush by.
A cold chill ran up Albert’s spine; he couldn’t move. What was going on? He tried to turn around, but it was as if something had wrapped itself around his legs. It yanked him to the ground.
He fell hard, cracking his chin on the cold stone street. His vision blurred, and Albert could taste a bit of blood in his mouth. He heard Elliot start to laugh, but it wasn’t his normal laugh; it sounded like three separate voices all laughing at once. Albert tried to scream, but it was still being muffled by something, something in the fog.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· 27d

Oops...I forgot yesterdays...anyways... #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #BookSky💙📚

Emecar leaned back in his chair and said, “It was about four years ago now, we trained with Sergeant, er, what was his name, Rukifelth?”
“Mignard,” groaned Rukifelth.
“Yes, that’s right, Sergeant Mignard. Dreadful old man, I say. Well, Rukifelth and I got into a bit of a spat with him, and—”
Augustin leapt from his work bench and pointed at the closed window. “Y-You heard that right!”

WyllCKP@wyllckp· 29d

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #BookSky💙📚

The younger maiden, Emli, looked to her Maiden Superior and said, "Please madame, this girl came with Rukifelth. I-I'd be willing to believe she can do as she says."
But the Maiden Superior didn't seem phased. She stared at Asta, her eyes boring into her and trying to read any minute expression that could bring her doubt. Asta could see that the woman was wise in her ways, and that she'd been spurned by recklessly accepting the help of a stranger before. Asta figured the only way to convince her was to do something drastic.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Jul 13

#WriteSky #BookSky💙📚

“Emecar, what happened,” she said.
“What do you mean, madame?”
“Don’t play me a fool, Emecar,” she said marching up to him. She quickly jabbed him in the ribs, and he grunted, nearly buckling over, and if not for the countertop, he almost certainly would have. With pinpoint precision, she seemingly knew exactly where the pain was coming from. “Show me” she snapped.
Emecar knew it was pointless to try and hide it anymore. He doffed his coat and lifted his shirt to reveal a crude bandage wrapped around his ribs and chest. A small stain of blood oozed through.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 20

#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity

“Is everything alright, Kayo,” asked Sister Emli. He didn’t say anything. His ears didn’t even twitch. She gently closed the book and said, “Kayo?”

The young elf’s amber eyes darted up. “Er, s-sorry, madame. What was the question?” The other children giggled and laughed at Kayo’s apparent absentmindedness, but he seemed to hardly notice.

Emli crossed her arms and said, “I asked if something was wrong. Are you feeling well?”

Kayo lowered his gaze as the others continued to laugh, prodding him for dozing off. Adel leaned over, laughing, and nearly toppled over in his chair as he said, “Kayo is bored!”

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 19

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts The actual print version uses a separate font for when these characters speak, but for the e-books I use sticky caps (also, it doesn't seem my image software has the font I use)

The creature pulled him closer, and the three voices all laughed, speaking in unison:

“OoH, i’m So eXCiTed!”
“ThIs oNE wiLL MAke A FIne ADdiTIon To oUr COllEctIOn!”
“foRGeT nOt WHy wE ArE HErE, siSteRS!”
“YEs, yES, wE kNow.”
“sHE iS SO vERy cLosE!”
“YeS! so VeRy CLosE inDEeD!”

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 18

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

As the band started to play, the audience began clapping along. Asta’s heart raced as it always did during a performance; she danced and twirled to the beat as Segrick stomped, Sandra tapped, and Michel rapidly thumped the body of his guitar with his thumb.

It was exhilarating. Even with a crowd such as this, Asta felt truly alive. She belted her heart out, and with every word that escaped her lips, she could feel her joy grow more and more. On the stage, performing for others, was where she truly belonged.

They performed one song, and then another, and then another. With each song finished, the crowd grew more and more wild, cheering and singing along to some of the songs they’d heard the previous nights.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 17

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Near the far end of the cabin was a human woman cooking over a wood-burning stove. She looked a few years older than Emecar, but she had a small streak of gray in her brown hair as well as a green silk marriage ribbon tied around her neck.

Lafayette set his lantern down near the front door and introduced them all to Augustin Brugiér, a small-time woodworker, and his wife Gwendolyn. Looking around the small cabin, Emecar was dumbfounded to learn that all of the house’s furniture had been crafted by Augustin. He then set his musket down near the Lafayette’s lantern and plopped himself down on one of the chairs.

Tabard winced and said, “Lafayette, you know we ain’t supposed to do this. We could get in trouble.”

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 16

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“I don’t disagree with you,” said Emli, “but I don’t think fear of consequence is what keeps children out of trouble.”

“Are you saying you’re not afraid of repercussions as a grown woman,” asked Magda confidently. Emli opened her mouth as if ready to argue, but she couldn’t find the words. She supposed she was afraid, but that wasn’t what kept her out of trouble, was it? Magda chuckled when Emli didn’t respond and said, “Remember, sister: a firm–yet gentle–thumb. That’s how you keep them in line.”

Sister Magda left Emli alone in the sanctum, and Emli repeated: “A firm–yet gentle–thumb.”

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 15

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

After the sun had set, Sisters Helene and Claire assisted Sister Emli as she put the children to bed. Once they’d all been tucked in, Helene began to read them a bedtime story from Liza’s collection of books while Emli stood by the window and looked into the distance.

It had begun to grow dreary outside, dismal and sad just like how Emli felt. She hadn’t been comfortable reading to the children these past few nights; it reminded her too much of the Gerhard farm. Her hands shook and her breath caught whenever she thought about that night, helpless in the mud and unable to do anything. Try as she might to hold it together, the night just reminded her of that failure.

Outside, far off in the distance, the city’s alarm bells began to ring. Emli’s heart stopped; the alarms only rang for severe citywide emergencies such as fires or severe storms. What did it mean if the bells were ringing now?

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 14

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“I admit,” Rukifelth continued, “that I am a little jealous. I wish I had someone who cared about me that way.”

“D-Did I really say all that,” asked Emecar.

“Y’did, as well some other gibberish I—nor anyone else—could understand.” Rukifelth poured some of the remaining hot water from the kettle into their water basin and used it to wash his hands and face. He stripped off his sweaty old shirt and replaced it with a fresh one from their wardrobe. His bandages looked gnarled and worn, and Emecar suggested he change them, but Rukifelth ignored it.

“W-What happened last night,” asked Emecar.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 13

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The walk back took them a little over an hour. The fog had returned to the faint wisps along the street as to be expected, but every stray sound–every crack and skitter–caused the four to jump. When they arrived back at the station, all eyes were on them. There would be no hiding it: the four looked like they’d been in a fight, and when the sergeant saw them in their haggard condition, he stormed out of the station and shouted:

“Mother’s blessings, what did you cretins do?” He stomped up to them, glowering at Rukifelth and Emecar. “You disgraceful, worthless, inférals! What’s the meaning of this? What did you do to my men?”

Rukifelth snarled back. “Us? You think we did this to ourselves?”

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 12

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The image of the little girl in white fluttered back into Emli’s mind. She danced in the fog, her white gown flickering in the wind. She laughed as the alluring song continued its haunting lullaby in the distance. The girl turned to Emli and smiled, offering up her hand.

Come on, she said, but the voice was not her own. The voice was that of an older woman. Emli felt a hand that was not hers take the hand of the little girl and the vision began to fade. Emli’s chest burned.

Again, she repeated the prayer, and again she saw the vision of who she knew to be Elyna. Each time the little girl offered her hand and each time before the hand could be taken, the vision faded, and Emli’s chest burned even more.

She was feeling the pain Almer felt, all his guilt and sorrows; she felt the pain of life slowly fading away, but then as the pain whelmed into her, she began to see more of his memories: his first love, his first heartbreak, the loss of his mother and father, the birth of his children and grandchildren; but what most lingered in heart was the memory of this girl Elyna. She was not a daughter or granddaughter, but a sister, and Emli could feel the guilt pressing on Almer’s chest as he watched her disappear into the fog, powerless to help her.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 11

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“W-We don’t know,” said the dwarf. “She was g-gone before any of this started!”

Rukifelth pressed the blade of his sabre into the collar of the dwarf’s shirt, hoping to get a little more information from the colossal man, but it became apparent that he was being honest. Rukifelth released the dwarf and scanned The Lady’s Rose looking for her: Asta. Instead, all he could see were terrified citizens huddled in groups while others barricaded the doors. It was she who the fae were after, that much he knew, but why? What was it about that woman that would make fae attack like this?”

“W-Who are you? Why do you want her,” spoke the guitarist.

“The fae want her,” said Rukifelth. “I intend to find her first.”

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 10

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts I missed yesterday, so I'm gonna be doing two today! Screw (Twist) & Chapter (Topic)

Rukifelth rested his head in his hands and tried to shake the nightmare from his mind. Their screams wouldn’t leave. He could still see their twisted faces. He bit his fingers until they bled, and blood dripped down his chin. He ordered another beer, and then another, and then another; each one tasted worse than the last, but slowly the visions began to fade.

He didn’t know how long he’d spent in the Coalrock, but when he saw the sunset outside, he knew he’d been there long enough. He stood from his seat and made his way out, not offering so much as a glance to the other patrons. Some scowled at him, but others–wisely–looked the other way. He heard some people daring him to return if he valued his life, and Rukifelth chuckled at that. Those people thought they could intimidate him?

No, try as they might, they were the ones scared of him, and that was exactly how Rukifelth liked it.

“That contradicts how I understand my own men, sergeant. Rukifelth, yes, has a bit of a rebellious attitude, but not with Emecar around. Should those two lash out, it is only because someone treated them disrespectfully first.” Grisdel stepped forward until he was nearly nose to nose with Astier and said, “But what of your men, sergeant? I’m to understand they were posted with Officers Tabard and Lafayette. What did they say?”
Astier scoffed and tried to diverge the topic. “They don’t know what they saw. For all I know, your men could’ve—”

“That’s enough, sergeant,” said Vechelot. “Tell the captain what your men said in their reports.”

Astier’s eyes darted between Captain Grisdel and the lieutenant. He clearly couldn’t fathom why the lieutenant would take Grisdel’s side, but in truth she wasn’t; Vechelot was trying to wrap this up as quickly as possible, so she could go and formulate a case she could report to Commander Dior, head of the Lionbrand City-Watch.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 8

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 7

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 6

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts I actually remembered to highlight the word this time :P

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 5

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 4

#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Mar 3

Tuesday #snippetshare Vulnerability! A moment when a character is feeling vulnerable. #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt

“This temple was my castle,” he said. “I’d imagine fighting monsters in the nursery: orcs, fae, trolls, demons. I’d imagined I was a hero like Lord Crissinger, or Raylion Skypiercer, or Adakar Azukor the Dawnking.”

Protect the innocent; heal the hurt; smite the wicked.

“I used to dream that if I just fought hard enough–did enough good–that one day, everyone could live in peace, just like the stories: people wouldn’t go hungry, or shiver in the cold; children wouldn’t fear losing their parents, and parents wouldn’t fear losing their children. I used to dream that no one would need to cry anymore.”
Liza held him tighter, and Emecar remembered a time when he and Rukifelth used to run around the temple, proudly declaring that they’d fight evil monsters, topple tyrants, and bring peace to the world. They’d stand among kings and gods alike.
How distant those memories felt.

They called him…

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Jan 4

The hype is real! I've been trying to convince my friends to play, but a lot of them don't have steam/gaming PCs, so I've been eagerly waiting for this!!

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Dec 13

Whispers #50WordStory #WritingCommunity #Writing

Whispers

The crowd chanted with raucous lies and jeers; some of it true, some of it not. What was said became less and less important as more and more voices were added until nothing remained but the untamed ramblings of those who desired naught but to sow discord.

And amidst the voices was lost that which started it all.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Dec 12

Darkness #50WordStory #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

This darkness was not the absence of light. It was a weight—a blanket—that enveloped everything in its presence. An antediluvian force older than the endless ocean of nothingness around it. It was, is, and always will be cold, ineffable, and hungry.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Nov 2

💙📚quote with your: cover + first page + link 📚💙 www.amazon.com/dp/B0F9PT8TJX

Prologue

14th of Vinatman, 1652 Age of Enlightenment

As the winter winds blew across the countryside–through snow-covered trees and white tipped hills–a lone horse drawn coach strolled down the frigid highway outside the holy city. Decorated with gold-plated lattice over a body of green oak wood, the elegant vehicle rode in luxury: extravagant silken cushion and pillows as well as warm blankets assured that its passengers would ride comfortably no matter the distance.
At the helm of the coach, steering its four large Singardian draughts, was the young Corporal Taram Greybram, an Elven man in his early forties with dark violet skin, hazy gray eyes, and a think black moustache. He wore the thick green and maroon woolen coat of Singard’s most elite crownsguard as well as a pair of thick leather gloves and riding boots. Adorned on his left shoulder was a golden epaulette and a single golden tassel denoting his rank. Laying on the bench at his side was a master-crafted musket adorned with a silver-dusted bayonet, and on his hip was strapped a Singardian falchion.
The passengers of such a luxurious trip were three Galdic Maidens of the Lionbrand Temple. Liza Valen, the Maiden Superior, was just under ninety years old with long shimmering silver hair she’d tied into a braid which draped over her shoulder, and dark, emerald eyes. Though older than even the oldest human, Liza still retained a youthful spirit and beauty.
Sister Magda Mosvand was second to Liza in both age and experience; she had long, curly black hair that she’d often kept tied up into a tight bun. The third was Sister Claire Siér, the newest maiden to join their temple’s conclave, only being with them for a little over a year, who wore a dainty, youthful smile and had long pale-blonde hair that draped down her back.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Sep 28

Honestly, this is probably a scene that's either going to be moved to a later part in the story, because as I was writing it, I realized, "There is no way this information would or should be out yet." But, I still like the scene. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPromts #WIPSnips

She couldn’t believe what the gazette had written. Such a headline would cause mass panic if true; they’d never publish such an obvious falsehood, no matter how desperate they were to outsell their competitors. This story had to have some inkling of truth to it.
Her ink-stained fingertips traced the words as her eyes darted across the page; she read about the report given by a local watchman that he and his partner had found a woman fleeing in distress who’d claimed to see an orc. The two watchmen then stumbled upon a hooded figure they believed to be the orc; one went back to report the incident and get further assistance, while the other stayed to keep an eye on things. Unfortunately, when the second watchman didn’t return, the first lead a small number of officers back to the scene where they found the second near dead in the streets, his uniformed scorched, and his body severely burned.

WyllCKP@wyllckp· Sep 26

It's a long one, but it's one of my favorite scenes 😊 #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips