Author's Note: This story was written in an interactive format with the participation and engagement of the live audience through chat.
Throughout this story you'll find text formatted in this manner:
I.E.:Wishes to sponsor the Character an item name.
This is how the chat interactions look like. These are messages written by the people who were in the audience on the night of the story.
She walked down the forest path. Her velvet robes swaying gently in the wind, her pointy hat pointed straight up at the skies
She flipped the page onto a new chapter, ‘How to survive a dragon’s revenge,’ then, without reading any further she flipped the page with the kind of urgency of someone who is forced to read a boring manual at work that they read 5 times, a gentle sigh escaped her lips. Page after page she skipped with haste in search of the next chapter, a likely thought on her mind, judging by her body language, was
Just as she reached the last page of said chapter, and rejoiced, as if the destiny itself told her not to do so, she stumbled over a rock, lost her balance, flailed her arms around like a confused chicken, then regained her footing, and heard a distant roar. She popped an eyebrow, glanced up at the skies, sensing disturbance within the forest. The trees shuddered in fright, leaves shaking like a cold chihuahua in the snow.
Something was fast approaching, she braced herself after glancing up at the skies in anticipation of whatever forces might be watching over her, to provide aid to a witch in distress.
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A rift opened above her, a fracture in reality itself, from within it, a whisper echoed, following the whisper, a pair of glasses fell out of it, violently but with a surprising precision. Before she had a chance to react, the glasses landed on her face, equipping themselves.
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Something cracked, the rift widened. Her eyes shot wide open as she watched a massive tree on the other side of the rift break in half, and fall through. Her gaze shifted between confused, and terrified as she leapt away from the falling tree so as not to get crushed by it. Sponsors today seemed quite violent, she had to keep that in mind and keep her wits about.
As the tree fell, she noticed a variety of other items attached to the broken tree in creative ways: a carrot, like an arrow, protruded from the trunk, a ring sat upon a branch that stuck out like a hand, as if a knight proposing to her. A shiny gem sat in the mouth of a weird lizard-like creature that ran around the tree, and a butterfly fluttered around it playfully, dancing in the wind.
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The fast approaching sound was fast and approaching. It sounded ominous, threatening, as if a swarm of angry locusts was enroute to devour another farmer’s field. She threw herself against the broken tree, grabbing the pink lizard creature by the tail and shaking it violently until it dropped the shiny gem. The butterfly landed on her head, flattened out its wings and seemingly grasped onto her hairs for its dear life, trembling out of fright.
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She clenched her hat against her chest, bracing. Above her the once blue sky turned dark, but not by a cloud or an approaching storm, it was a swarm indeed, a swarm of creatures that vaguely resembled dragons, if they were miniaturized to the size of roughly a pigeon. Hundreds of angry, miniature dragons, eclipsed the sun as they rushed forth toward whatever unfortunate victim may end up facing them.
Another rift in reality cracked open in the ground next to her, from within it, an otter’s face peeked out, it looked around curiously, then glanced up at the eclipsed skies, hastily rummaged through its mail bag, pulled out a letter, handed it over to her, and disappeared back inside the rift. The witch stared at the letter, turning it in her hands a few times, perplexed by why divine creatures who were evidently watching her, were sending her letters.
Deciding it hardly was the time to read love confessions, she stashed it away in the inner pockets of her robe, watching as the swarm distanced itself from her.
She got back up as the sun once more shone upon her, threw her hat up in the air, making it levitate while she dusted off her velvet robes. Her body language was that of annoyance, as if the ground itself wronged her by being dirty. She tapped her foot on the path, the earth itself shook from her step, as if a jester groveling before the royalty after a bad joke.
As the hat slowly lowered itself atop of her, the butterfly took off, deciding apparently that she was now its life-long companion and it’d follow her to the edge of the world. She looked in the direction where she originally was heading, then the other way, into the depths of the forest, the direction where the swarm was heading. Then back, then thought, and then, apparently deciding that today was the adventurous kind of day, she decided to follow the swarm.
The bushes were seemingly against her. Something about the forest today seemed off as every branch, bush and thorn grasped her ropes. At first she walked through like an ordinary person, struggling with the overgrowth, but then she got annoyed and glared up at the skies with a demanding and demeaning gaze that could be perceived as ‘you useless good for nothing entities, do something before I do something, in which case, there might not be a forest left.’.
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As her annoyance grew, the magic began to spark around her. With each step, the bushes began to move out of her way, and in her wake
problem with that.
A rift opened above her, through it an armored arm, clad in plate armor, reached out, holding a sword. She looked at it for a long moment, so long in fact that another rift opened above her, but as her attention was drawn to the blade, she did not notice it. A flask of fresh, divine water fell from above, crumbled through her pointy hat
The witch caught the flask as it rolled off her hat and flicked it open. With her other hand she raised a finger, the blade slowly slid out of the armored hand that grasped it, and hovered just above the rift. The hand, startled by the sudden realization that it was, in fact, missing its weapon, began to search for it sporadically, tapping around the new reality in panic. Urgency could be seen in its movements.
Then there was a sudden groan, a grasp, and then the hand retracted back into the rift. The witch squinted, wondering if a knight somewhere far away had just been slain and couldn’t defend himself, wouldn’t be the first time sponsors killed someone to provide an item. She shrugged, it did not matter, a swarm of Miniature Dragons is what mattered right now.
As she made her way deeper into the forest, the dense canopy shrouded the sun, shielding her from the blazing heat that she had been ignoring. There was a giggle, followed by muffled murmurs, and then more giggles. It wasn’t directed at her, it was as if a group of mischievous somethings was having a giggle about their evil schemes.
She lifted her robes, sneaking toward the source of the conversation. Bushes swayed out of her way, dried up sticks rolled away, some even grew legs to get away faster, others disintegrated into mulch. The dried leaves cushioned her footsteps, making sure to remain silent, a sneaking witch was the most dangerous kind.
She glanced up at the skies with the kind of expression of someone who had it all under control and needed no help but had an annoying friend next to them that kept trying to help, and always made things worse.
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As she neared the source, a rift tore open in the fabric of reality right in her path. Her gaze was upwards where the distant chatter was coming from, she did not notice as she stepped upon a faerie cushion. It puffed, and then let out a long, rumbling noise that could best be associated with the sound of a bloated grandpa after having a can of beans.
She gazed down, as did the tree next to her. They both stares at the cushion as it continued to release the rumbling noise that echoed through the forest, alerting all and anyone of someone being a rather gaseous biohazard.
The bushes around her, not knowing any better, began to shuffle away in anticipation of having to filter out a few too many green-house gasses suddenly released into the atmosphere. She gasped. A vein protruded on her forehead out of annoyance, and her face turned red out of embarrassment. The evil sponsors likely laughed as they put a mighty witch on the spot with a silly prank.
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Something fell out of the skies, but she caught it before it had a chance to touch her pointy hat. Her fist glowed red, the pinwheel’s iron heated and became malleable. She glared up, magic around her crackling.
An unknowing, innocent fly, that just so happened to be passing through the area on its way home after a night out drinking spilled ale by a wizard off in the bushes, did not notice an angered witch, and was zapped out of existence before it even knew what hit it. Just like that, a family of flies was suddenly left without a father.
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The murmurs fell silent, just as a vial of healing potion, and a sandwich, fell onto the grass next to her. She glanced around.
“What have we here?” whispered a voice from the shadows.
“It’s not a Miniature Giant Dragon, is it?” whispered another voice cautiously.
“Shouldn’t think so, this one is pretty tall and has a pointy hat, dragon’s don’t wear pointy hats, do they?” said the first voice.
“Shome doh, mheybe,” replied a 3rd voice. The witch glanced down at a fairy chowing down the sandwich next to her. The fairy then popped open the potion next to it to wash down the sandwich, “Aghh! That’s the good stuff, hey, can I have some more?” the fairy called out not to the witch but to the skies.
Out of the skies, a feather fell. The voices fell silent, as everybody watched the weather glide down, swaying through the air like a ballerina, gracious and gentle, until it landed upon a tiny, barely perceivable
“My, you really pissed that one off did ya?” commented the first voice.
The witch looked at the fairy that just spoke, she was sitting on a branch of the tree that glanced down at the faerie cushion earlier and said
The fairy upon the branch leapt off, fluttered her wings, shook off a bit of pixie dust and hovered up to the witch, examined her curiously, and then had a moment of realization upon noticing the tome in her hands, the Max’s survival guide.
“Oh, you’re her apprentice are you? Oh delightful, mighty witch, chaos is upon our lands.”
Her voice was surprisingly calm for someone who tried to appear in distress.
The witch glanced down at the book, then shrugged dismissively, as if not caring about being associated with Max, one of the mightiest witches in all of lands. She drew a question mark in the air with her finger, it materialized, set itself ablaze
“Oh witch, our forest was invaded by evil creatures, these dragons! They showed up out of nowhere with insatiable hunger and proceeded to…” the fairy’s voice trailed off as she dramatically posed exhaustion, hand pressed against her forehead, leaning backwards, but her eyes twinkled with mischief, she watched for the witch’s reaction
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The fairy straightened out, then sighed, “Fine fine, tl;dr for the witch, you DO understand us, right?” she asked. The shadow-hiding fairy peeked from behind the tree, “Should think so, she seems intelligent, responsive, just, not very chatty.”
The witch nodded in acknowledgement to understanding the fairies.
“Good, sooooooo, dragons showed up, insatiable hunger. With me so far? They wanted food, we told them to buy burgers from cats, burgers that our tribe supplied them with the ingredients for, yes, including our pixie dust to make them EXTRA tasty, ya know, big yums… They don’t need to know that said ‘pixie dust’ is just our… well, no matter. They love it, we get paid, dragons get fed… but they just eat and eat.”
In that moment, as fairy finished her speech, out of thin air, or rather
A small, floating slime oozed down and stretched out a little. Its big eyes widened in the view of the witch, it glistened out of admiration, this creature seemingly always wanted a witch companion, or be a witch’s companion? It was hard to tell which of the 2 it expected to be the pet.
The witch stared at the small, awe-struck creature, then returned her attention to the fairy that was telling a tall-tale, or what sounded like a tall-tale. I mean seriously, it would take a special kind of person, or just about any wizard, mage, or a witch, to believe a story about other-worldly miniature giant dragons with insatiable hunger invading the forest.
The fairy stared at the witch. The witch stared at the fairy. The fairy shrugged, “What? That’s all there is to it. Dragons are angry because cats hiked the prices that we artificially forced the increase of. Business as usual.”
The witch frowned, annoyed by the newly acquired information.
“What!? It’s not OUR fault the damned dragons just keep on eating, so we may as well profit off of it. Who knew they’d start a war?”
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“Actually,” began the fairy in the shadows, “I would reckon the fault is ours, well not ours ours, but our species. We uhm, we caused this war.”
The other fairy glanced over her shoulder, “Oh silence, who cares? We made good profits.”
“Actually, uhm, d-dragons like gold, you know, so… we’re next in line!?”
There was a long, very intense silence. The wind itself turned into a wind elemental that hovered silently above the group, perplexed by deep thoughts.
At last, the silence was broken by a creak that vaguely resembled a voice, “Good point,” groaned one of the trees. The fairy in front of the witch suddenly began pacing, “Oh no, oh gods oh lords oh my gawd what do we do now? This is awful! AWFUL! I did not think about that, DO SOMETHING!?” she called out, and in that moment, a hand reached out from a fracture in reality, grabbed her by the wings, and put a choker on her.
The witch squinted, eyeing closely the fairy that now found herself wearing a choker of slaying, an ancient artifact that drove anyone who wore it to madness. It is said that anyone who wears it, ultimately turns into a berserker
The witch glanced past the distressed fairy who was now desperately tugging at her neck, “Hey! Don’t ignore me! What is this? Take it off. Who put it on me anyways?”
The witch ignored her, she had a war to stop now, a war these pesky faeries started. A war over greed. The fairy floated up to her face, waving hands in front of her eyes, “HELLOOO??” in that time, the slime creature yawned, transformed into a sledge hammer, and bonked the fairy gently into the nearest tree.
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The slime now had a new master, and it would defend her no matter what. The witch gestured something. A gentle voice whispered to her from the back.
“It’s dangerous to go alone, here, take these.”
The slime obliged while the witch focused on her spell. It held tightly a scroll for summoning allies from
As she stepped through the portal, the stench of war instantly filled her nostrils. She found herself in the middle of a battlefield. Crackling fire all around them
Every bush and tree tried to shuffle away from the chaos. Burned ozone, charred tree remnants, and worst of all – the stench of burned fur.
There were roars, hisses, squeals and cries, explosions, the thunderous growl of fierce fire that laid waste to all in its wake, and of course, a lot of meows, the angry, fighting cat noises kinds of meows, not the attention seeking meows that a witch would be accustomed to. Witches were notorious for holding cats as pets, and while that may seem stereotypical, that’s because it is.
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The slime knew it was time to act as the witch hunched over. Her eyes watered from the gruesome sight before her, and the terrible stench of war. Chaos all around. She, being a young witch, wasn’t quite used to stopping wars, this was her first attempt. The slime on the other hand seemed well versed in war business.
It unraveled the scroll, summoning forth an army of recruits from another world, who all came pouring out of portals, charging into the enemy lines and assaulting both sides, or more accurate description would be
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Out of the air, a massive cannon spawned. It fell upon the battlefield with an audible thud, shaking the earth itself. All sides froze in awe at the city destroying weapon that suddenly stood perfectly in the middle of the war zone. The recruits, uncertain what they had to do and whom to fight, rushed for the cannon. The cats thought it’d be a funny thing to turn into a cat-cannon to shoot themselves across the forest.
And the dragons? They weren’t too fond of cannons after their most recent war with the house mice in their home world, the reason they traveled to a new world, since mice ate all the grains, and none was left for them to turn into burger patties.
She opened the book in search of answers. Flipped the page
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Her eye twitched from annoyance, she was just trying to have a calm stroll through the forest, but now ended up having to deal with this chaos
Ave Crystalmoon:
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The wars chaos continued for a while longer as the witch worked her magic, literally at that. Just as chaos seemed to be on the bring of collapse, and everything that wasn’t a random human recruit, cat, or a dragon, in the 2 kilometer radius, had either managed to shuffle itself away from the chaos inconspicuously, grew legs to run away, or blend in with the environment enough to appear like a normal part of the scenery
The witch knew now that no innocent soul would be caught in her spell, this reassured her and eased her mind. A cat, that wore armor that resembled a burger bun, charged the cannon, leapt into it, and then, despite the cannon being non-functional, it somehow shot the cat out. The cat bonked a mid-flight dragon, then wrapped its arms around it and clung for its dear life as the 2 plummeted toward the ground in a horrifying crash landing incident to be.
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The witch watched the scene with fright, she could picture the news headlines
The world itself held its breath, and the battle paused. Somehow even the fireballs, spat out by the dragons, froze mid flight in anticipation of what would happen next. From the ground all around the battlefield, vines grew. Tendrils of magic itself, like an unleashed kraken, reached for every being on the battlefield.
They glowed every color imaginable and unimaginable. Some were pink and some were so pink they looked blue, others were iridescent. She would shout, if she could, but she couldn’t, so instead, everything that could, did so in her stead. Spyke the slime, her hat, the ground and the skies themselves, and even every creature on this battlefield.
The witch took flight, hovering above the battlefield. She raised her hand. Everybody froze, not that they could do much else anyways, they were all wrapped by magic tendrils. They watched her in awe and anticipation, expecting an epic speech from her. She simply wiggled her finger side to side in the most basic ‘no no’ gesture imaginable, then lowered herself back to the ground, sighed, snapped her fingers to dismiss the tendrils, and glanced around, gesturing at the burned trees.
She snapped her fingers again. From the skies a food truck fell, with a giant burger logo on the side of it that read ‘Burger Queen’. The rear doors swung open, revealing a seemingly endless supply of freshest burgers. Another couple of food trucks fell from the skies. The cooks did not hesitate. The silence of the once chaotic battlefield
From the shadows, a hand emerged.
“Well done, Ann Mc’Lastue. Come back now, time for your next lesson.”
She glanced over her shoulder at her teacher, that looked currently like a 12 year old boy who had a few too many coca-colas. The kid grinned widely. Ann sighed, and turned to follow, disappearing into the shadows.
Related Stories / Same World stories
- Bird is a good segway. Fantasy to me always has to involve dragons. And instead of romance… how about some revenge? Of the dragons, not against them.
- what about the story is about cats enjoyers of borgirs against cats enjoyers of hotdogs, something happens (if you want i can also think a reason) where the borgir cat enjoyers want reveneger against the hot dog enjoyers!!
- unaffordable food prices
- hmm add some Fairies
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