Fantasy Grounds Forge Novels & Stories

Verra eventually and reluctantly had to summon her remnant spirit. She pulled out her wooden gauntlets and strapped them to her hands. She channeled mana into the weapon, a green and brown shadow zipped out of the energy core and cast a shadow over the battlefield. It was a giant frog, no smaller than the Carbonemys. Its body was covered in brown scales like a dragon, and its back was populated by millions of massive green trees.

Tami has ruined the whole prospect of him for me. “I don’t know…” I flick back a page. Crotchet? I’ve always wanted to try. It looks like she’s made a blanket. “I need a bit more notice for these things, I’d have to borrow Damon’s car and he might need it tonight.” There’s a website to buy all the gear for it, though it’s covered in nail polish. I’m certain I’ve used this as a mat to paint my toenails on once upon a time. “Codswallop.” He’s shouted it. Suddenly, I’m pulling the phone away. “Just ask him to borrow it, won’t you?” Surely they sell the bare necessities at any old store.

he said "stay away from Lucy, this is between the both of us" I said "okay fine but I want you to introduce me to her" he said "why should I", I asked " don't play that game with me unless you want me to blow your cover" he said " okay fine is that all you want?", I asked "as her father", he replied " what the hell!!!", I cursed " are you crazy" I asked "that girl is almost sixteen" I said

Fiona, or what remained of her, was in the living room, arranged around a giant pile of earth that had broken through the flagstone floor. Jim was overwhelmed by what he saw. This was so much worse than what had been done to Sloman and Cundle, there just weren’t words to describe it. Jim stood for a moment with his mouth hanging open, his jaw moving up and down as though trying to form words, or simply find a sound to describe how he was feeling. The ground beneath him swayed. The walls seemed to rush at him then recede just as rapidly. He wondered if the strange creatures in the ground were doing this, but then his legs went from under him and he fell to his knees.

Alec places makers on the map where my horde and the Horde of Fates is located. "Our horde can assist by giving you extra warriors but our magic is not meant for combat so it will not be of much help during battle. The magic we possess is best suited for prophecies and making minor predictions. So to go up against a horde like Betsalel we will need to forge strong magical weapons," Alec speaks in a dooming voice. "Findin raw materials that can be infused with magic will be hard. Do you perhaps have a plan to attain such materials," Flavius asks.

The garden has been transformed. Where once there was only trimmed hedges and quiet moonlit stone, now ancient banners flutter in the breeze. Torches stand tall, their flames dancing in ceremonial rhythm. A wide circle of white ash marks the ritual grounds, sacred soil untouched for years. It was last used when my father accepted his title, and now... it waits for me.

Making it as if entire worlds never existed at all. I nodded grimly, already adorned in the battleplate that had been forged specifically for this moment armor of crimson-veined silver created by dragon-smiths in the heart of stellar forges, blessed by witch-covens from seventeen realms, and laced with threads of fate by the High Fae who could weave possibility itself into tangible form. The metal hummed with protective enchantments and gleamed with inner light that pushed back against the growing darkness. The child within me stirred restlessly, responding to the tremors of cosmic war that rippled through dimensions like earthquake aftershocks. Already, though unborn, he knew what was comin

A strange reddish light spread across the academy rooftops as the moon shifted, sliding in front of the sun. “Why the Skyforge Temple?” Rowan asked as they ran. “Why not anywhere else?” “Because it’s where the first Dragonheart bond was ever made,” Kai said. “The flames there remember everything. They either accept the bond… or reject it.” Rowan glanced at him. “Reject?” Kai didn’t answer right away. “Let’s hope it won’t come to that.” They reached the stone path leading uphill. The Skyforge Temple sat at the highest point of Arcadia Academy—a circular structure open to the sky, with pillars of blackened stone and braziers that never went out. Fire danced inside them tonight, brighter than R

"Listen, lightbulb, we don't want to weaponize it. We want to make sure the universe doesn't turn into a giant ice cube. Just hand over the keys." "Keys are a mortal concept," the Architect replied dismissively. "The Forge operates on a standard older than your Genesis Coin. It does not accept capital. It does not accept debt. It requires an equity swap. To ignite the Forge, you must feed it the very essence of your conceptual soul. You must surrender your memories, your attachments, your identity, to become the neutral gear of creation."

The micro-loan fund was named “The Forge.” It was a quiet, deliberate counterpoint to The Foundry's small, focused, fire instead of earth. Elara worked on it in the early mornings before Kaelan woke, in stolen moments between meetings. She didn’t hide it, but she didn’t showcase it either. It existed in the margins, a declaration of independence written in spreadsheets and grant proposals.