Appalachian Writer's Guild

I am cursed, it is a burden my people are reminded of every night when we slip into the realm of dreams and the nightmare of that fateful evening torment us. It’s events playing over and over and reminding us of why we cover our eyes in shame and every night i dread the necessity of sleep as i lay upon my straw bed, apprehensively waiting for it to take me and the nightmare to begin. My eyes open and the first thing i notice is that i’m not wearing something to cover my eyes, though i don’t feel the need to either. The sun filters in through the windows casting long rays of light on the pews and it occurs to me that i should go upstairs and ring the bell to mark the passing of the hour. Behind me someone knocks on the door as they enter into my church calling out to me with a good natured hello as they make their way down the aisle. “Good evening my child,” i reply warmly, “is there something i may do for you?” i ask, my guts detecting a hint of malice from this stranger. ...

I wait tensely, perched on the edge of a tree branch, watching the sky with trepidation. I shouldn't be here. A Fairy, especially on of my royal blood, would rather die than be seen with a Dragonkin. Or at least, most  fairies would. But most of the Fair-Folk aren't hopelessly in love with a dragon either. The sky darkens for a moment, I burrow deeper into the leaves, my eyes flickering upwards in time to catch the sea-green flash of scales, listening as the forest around me grows quiet, and even the wolves cease to howl. He vanishes into the foliage and I hold my breath, waiting impatiently for him. I came with only one mission, and I must fulfill it. I hear him before I see him. Dragonkin aren't nearly as good at being quiet as other forest creatures, but what can one expect for someone so large? A single gust of wind from his wings alone is enough to flatten an entire field of hay. I catch the occasional glimmer of his brilliant scales before I feel the air aro...

Meeting Date: June 11th, 2017 Story Challenge Details: Fantasy, based in a generic world Items: Wolf Hay The next meeting is planned for July 2nd, 2017. If you have questions, comments, or are interested in joining the Appalachian Writer's Guild, let us know! We are now on Facebook, so check us out there! Email:  appwritersguild@gmail.com Facebook:  drop in and give us a like! -Appalachian Writer's Guild

Her Prince “I'm telling you, you're a silly girl Gilraen!” Her aunt shouted as she threw on her cloak and grabbed her bag. “He won't even notice some lowborn girl!” Gilraen ignored the jab and ran out the door, skipping steps as she left the vine covered weaver shop her family owned and ran towards the procession of soldiers marching through the city streets. The column was marching at a leisurely pace through the gates to the first second of the city and upon the faces of the soldiers could be seen confidence and pride as only a Gondorian soldier could show. Gilraen ran past the soldiers, several of whom glanced to look as she passed by, but she didn't notice, her goal was far ahead at the front of the column down by the city gates. “Watch it!” Someone shouted as she pushed past the crowds that had gathered to see the soldiers off, but she didn't notice or care as she ran on, her feet nearly stumbling twice upon the white stone road. Finally she ar...

“There are two things a warrior must always remember, what are these two things?” My instructor asked, standing tall above the group of young lads he had been assigned to teach. “His sword and his courage sir!” i answered eagerly, standing on tiptoes and raising my hand as high as possible. “Wrong! The two things a warrior must always remember are his friends and what he is fighting for.” He replied drawing his sword and dropping it on the ground. “Even without a weapon a warrior can still fight as long as he has his comrades beside him, for courage alone is foolishness but courage together can change the tide of battle.” He threw some punches for effect never quite standing still as he talked. “And without a reason to fight there can be no courage.” He picked his sword off the ground and handed it to me, kneeling down and putting his hand on my shoulder. “A sword is just a tool, it may be a very dangerous one but without the proper conditions you might as well be trying t...

Meeting Date: May 11th, 2017 *This was an odd meeting date, due to schedule conflicts for members. Meeting are usually the first Sunday of the month. Story Challenge Details: Fantasy based in the Tolkien World Items: Vines Saddle The next meeting is planned for June 4th, 2017 If you have questions, comments, or are interested in joining the Appalachian Writer's Guild, let us know! We are now on Facebook, so check us out there! Email:  appwritersguild@gmail.com Facebook:  drop in and give us a like! -Appalachian Writer's Guild

     Her heart pounded in her chest, she could see them closing in on her.  Knowing it was her time she took a deep breathe, trying to relax.  The stings were sharp and quick.  Beads of sweat began beading rapidly on her ivory skin, the pace of her heart quickened.  she screamed in pain and then all went dark.          Blinking open, her eyes rested on the face in front of her.  "It's over," said a quite whisper, you are now a goddess.  Her mother lay a soft kiss upon her head and once again she sank into the darkness.    Light slowly filtered into the room, the silk sheets, cool upon her skin.  Blinking slowly she let the world enter into her consciousness.  The room around her was all golds and ivories, windows surrounding her, kissing her skin with the cool summer breeze. Setting her feet lightly on the floor, she stood staring at her reflection in the cheval mirror.  When she feel aslee...