Fox Veros, Novelist
LightNews LightNews
banner
verosthewriter.bsky.social
Fox Veros, Novelist
@verosthewriter.bsky.social
970 followers 210 following 11K posts
Psychologically focused, character driven, socially conscious fantasy. Literary agents, ask for details.
Sorry, I'm not commissioning art.
He/him/his.
BLM. Pro-LGBTQ+. Anti-genocide, no matter who's doing it. Down with white patriarchy.
AI is unwelcome.
Posts Replies Media Videos
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Seff considers her future as Drohim's protégé and a Blade of the Many in her own right ... or as an ordinary person who chose not to live a life of violence.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
That would be worth all the violence and fear and hardship of a Blade’s life, right? Especially since I’d be a lot better able to handle it. Drohim had re-killed three trained attackers at least twice each while I was just trying to keep two of them from killing me, and that was with Kevra getting in their way; all the mercenaries and fake guards I’d killed or knocked out the other night had basically been ambushes. If I trained up to be a real Blade of the Many, there honestly wouldn’t be much for me to fear. It would sure as hell pay better than being a squire, even if it would never make me rich. And he’d called it “a significant step up in social status.” I still remembered how I’d felt when he’d called me “young miss” two years ago; it would honestly be pretty nice if people talked to me with respect all the time. I would probably even have a squire of my own. Wow. Either that, or I would have to tell Drohim someday that I was returning the training and admiration he’d given me with a great big “Sorry, I should have told you earlier, but everything you’ve dedicated your life to is meaningless to me.” And then I would have a chance to live for another fifty years or so without anyone trying to stab me, curse me, turn me to stone, or reanimate my corpse. Hopefully.
November 29, 2025 at 6:41 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
What flavor is your OC?

Art of Alakshi by Mona Finden.
Alakshi, a half-human, half-elven warrior in a leather vest, patched trousers, and boots. She's holding a spear in one hand and hoisting a tankard of beer in the other, and smiling. A long dagger is attached to her belt. She has muscles. Art by Mona Finden. Samuel Smith oatmeal stout, the best beer I have ever had the pleasure of drinking
November 28, 2025 at 10:35 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Desert raiders with a sand hydra on their side accost a traveling caravan, but the caravan has a few people with it who know how to fight. Gallara isn't one of them, but she does her best, anyway. No one knows what's going on.

#writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts #writingprompt
The sand hydra surged forward, knocking the bandits’ horses aside as it pounced into the row of guards. Brandolok heroically charged it head-on, parrying and wounding whichever heads weren’t already swallowing guards whole. In fact, he seemed to be doing a good job of keeping the entire hydra busy. Well, at least there was that. Leaderless, the riders jostled each other as they frantically tried to figure out who was going to stab which pedestrian, and a few managed to charge. Fighting down her fear, Gallara flicked her finger at the leading horse’s front hooves; it stumbled to its front knees, nearly throwing its rider from the saddle as her fellow brigands crashed past or reared to avoid her. Alakshi yanked the spearhead from her belt and said a weird word; her spearhead was abruptly a full-length spear that she was already driving right through a bandit’s leather armor. Jorang parried an axe with his staff and somehow tripped its wielder’s entire horse to the ground - and some *other* guy that Gallara hadn’t even noticed yet leaped up from among the the horses, swiping a saber through a highwayman’s throat. She backed farther away from the increasingly sloppy melee, as fast as the sand underfoot would let her, pointing with two fingers and turning her wrist; an eighth bandit screamed and fell from his horse, clutching at the sudden tearing pain in his spine. His foot got stuck in one of the stirrups as his horse turned and bolted in the opposite direction, dragging him off into the desert.
November 27, 2025 at 7:43 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
Seff is in the first real fight for her life, and trying to avoid killing anyone - but there are hazards to fighting in a magician's house, and to playing nice when people are trying to kill you.

#booksky #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompt #writingprompts
“This is for Celder, you bastards!” The human woman got to me first, coming in for a stab with her long, thin sword. I managed to parry like Drohim had taught me, then shifted forward and inside her reach, and kneed her in the crotch as hard as I could. Drohim hadn’t taught me that one - fighting with bullies had. She hadn’t even fallen yet before the gnomish guy came in with a stab of his own. I barely parried in time, and he immediately tackled me at the waist, grabbing behind my knee with one hand; I managed to throw my other leg back and recovered part of my failing balance - instead of flopping onto my back, my body half-turned and fell against the edge of the table, smashing my kidney pretty hard. I gasped in pain and did my best to parry as he straightened up and stabbed again, and I only partly succeeded; the point of his blade drove painfully into my collarbone, but my brigandine stopped the edge from getting through. I tried to breathe through the pain and rushed to get my feet properly under myself in time to parry his next thrust; he was already moving back, out of my range, but he kept his arm extended and his sword hand where I could lunge for it. My blade went clean through at least two of his fingers, using his own hilt like a chopping block; he howled and dropped his weapon, and I drove my foot into his chest. It sent him stumbling backward, into the corner with the enchanted floorboard. Magic sigils suddenly appeared on both of the corner’s walls, and translucent spikes burst out of them - and right through his torso in five places. Great Many, that wasn’t what I’d meant to do. … was it?
November 26, 2025 at 11:32 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Gallara relates the time she impeded a guy who deserved it. She didn't know he was a demigod.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
“Like I said, I was trying to read when that guy walked up to me,” Gallara continued, as Zedenko quietly made a little more space between them. “It was like he just couldn’t imagine that someone would tell him no. He started getting … aggressive about it, so I finally told him fine, I’d meet him that night. Of course I wasn’t there. The place where I said I would meet him was full of hanging garroteweed.” She glanced around and acted surprised that people were giving her horrified looks. “It was the middle of spring! The garroteweed wasn’t strong enough to be dangerous yet. It would have just held him there all night to give him something to think about, without actually hurting him. Well, maybe some bruising.”
November 26, 2025 at 10:47 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WriteStuff
I wish people would think to celebrate family/friends and remember to be kind, without a blatantly materialistic holiday covered in a micron-thin layer of religious paint. The pressure to give presents, and the expectation to receive them, stresses people out more than it's worth.
the Grinch in a Santa Claus outfit, standing in the middle of a wreath and giving the finger
November 26, 2025 at 10:03 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WriteStuff
I count Barry Levinson's "Toys" as a Christmas movie. It begins and ends with a Christmas show, and I think its themes of personal growth, loss of innocence, and retention of goodness are appropriate for the holiday/new year season.
I posted about this film yesterday, too. Sorry.
Movie poster for Toys, directed by Barry Levinson
November 26, 2025 at 9:54 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Seff's interrogation at the cop house is not going well.

#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #writingprompt
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he informed me, leaning forward again. I heard a clinking sound, and saw the human deliberately shifting her stick so it rattled against the side of her chair. I could only wonder whose pay they were in, and if I said anything that led them to suspect that Drohim and I knew about Torvandin’s kidnapping, they could trace it back to Telo despite Drohim’s promise that wouldn’t happen. Drohim had already told them that he was a Blade of the Many, which was a dead giveaway, but I didn’t have to make it worse. I shrugged, ignoring the aching in my wrists and hands. “I came here with my master. It wasn’t my choice.” “Mmmm, she’s being evasive,” the woman mused. “Oh, that’s all right. I like it when they don’t cooperate,” the elf said. “I get to do all kinds of things to them. A few things are coming to mind for this one already.” And he gave me a look that I really didn’t like. I had a feeling I wasn’t supposed to. “Hey! Threats from constables - and investigators - are illegal, including during interrogation,” I told him, clenching my teeth. “Oh, you’re familiar with the justice system,” the elf nodded. “So you’ve been in trouble before.” No, I’d just had to accompany Drohim when he’d apprehended criminals on behalf of the church, and learned a few things. “Which doesn’t change the fact that threats are illegal,” I countered. He stood up from his chair, slowly made a fist, and then smashed it into my face. I tried to tighten my neck and lower my forehead into it, but it still sent sparks flying inside my head as I tumbled backward off the stool, biting back a cry of pain. The human grabbed me off the floor and forced me to sit on the stool again.
November 25, 2025 at 7:33 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#Novmemeber
Prophecies is a two-novel story with four MCs, two male and two female. Spoiler alert: there is no romance. I'm sick of friendship being seen as a sad second best to romance, and of the idea that every story is incomplete without romance. Besides, the MCs just don't click that way.
Daimora the Witch leaned forward in her chair, interlacing her fingers. “Now then, you are finally here,” she said. “Such nice, relatively attractive people. Are any of you in love by now?” Alakshi choked and coughed half a mouthful of cookie bits onto the floor. “Shorry,” she said, “but I’m not in a good plashe for that right now.” “I’m … still struggling with the idea that people could even like me,” said Zedenko, and looked away. “The four of us have only known each other for a couple months, and we’ve been in extraordinary circumstances the whole time,” said Gallara. “That might bring on a temporary infatuation if we weren’t thinking straight, but that’s hardly the same thing as love, and there’s no way we could keep the feelings going for the long term.” “No,” said Jorang. “Are you sure?” the Witch said. “You’ve had some banter that seemed promising.” “Figging hell! Friends can banter!” “That’s too bad,” Daimora said. “Some people would really like grandchildren, you know.”
November 25, 2025 at 7:17 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#FantasyIndiesNovember
25. Share artwork or artist

@monafinden.bsky.social is the only artist I've commissioned for artwork. I've shared the MC portraits she created for me several times, so I'm reposting her pinned post from her profile here. Check out her art and see how brilliant she is.
FantasyIndiesNovember 25. Share artwork or artist
November 25, 2025 at 7:06 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
Share a 90s movie you think deserves more love
Movie poster for the film Toys, by Barry Levinson
November 25, 2025 at 6:33 AM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
Gallara has foraged some wild plants for lunch. Zedenko weighs his suspicious nature against his lifelong food insecurity.

#WritingPrompt #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #writesky
The way she was holding it out made it look like she was offering it to him, along with her friends, which wasn’t like her at all; Zedenko immediately started watching her hands for vials of poison or bits of wire she might sneak into his share. Still, it was hard to turn down any nutrition he could get. Well, it wouldn’t make sense for them to try to kill him yet. As long as he watched her carefully, he was happy to eat what was available instead of digging into his limited supplies. He just needed to see her eat some of it before he did. Soon the roots were roasting over a small open fire on long slivers of fresh-cut wood, and he had to admit they smelled pretty good. Gallara handed them out to everyone, including a little one for Prax, and she took the first bite. Zedenko waited until she and the others had swallowed at least three mouthfuls each, pretending he was letting his cool, before tasting it. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten – specifically, food. He’d never thought having a botanist around would be this useful, he mused, and swallowed. Oh right, he was supposed to be acting civil. “Theg hoo,” he said, then shook his head and tried again. “Tthhgg uuu …” Oh, balls. His tongue bloating to the size of his fist wouldn’t have been so bad – even the pain coursing through his entire digestive system was almost bearable – if only the swelling in his neck would ease up enough for him to breathe. He tried to move, and slumped onto his side, instead.
November 24, 2025 at 5:57 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
This is not a first that Seff was looking forward to.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
beacon, making sure the stiff material wouldn’t give enough to press the jewel while it was in my pocket. “This should be deep enough,” Rhugada said from inside the pit, “and we really should be going.” I definitely agreed with that. I checked how much of the Trokaan’s stuff I could fit into my backpack and Drohim’s, and set it all aside. When I looked up, Drohim was already dragging two of the bodies toward the pit. I jogged to his side and helped, and felt my stomach turn just a little. It was my first time handling a dead body, instead of just making one, and I wasn’t sure whether I should have been more or less bothered by it. I threw the Trokaan’s riding gear into the hole once the corpses were all in it, and all three of us pushed the dirt back over them with our hands as fast as we could. Rhugada sprinkled some kind of powder over the obvious mound of turned earth we’d made, then spit on it; a curly, almost moss-like grass started climbing up out of the dirt all over the burial patch, so slowly it was hard to be sure how long it kept growing. It didn’t have the same texture or shade of green as the grass all around it, but it was a hell of a lot less obvious than leaving the burial site bare would have been. “We should definitely be on our way.”
November 24, 2025 at 5:42 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
So the prophecy says your enemy needs magic beans in order to cause a metaphysical catastrophe ...

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
“If he needs to *raise on high the magic beans*,” Zedenko said, with a brief grin, “we could grab them before he does and, I dunno, sell them one at a time in a big port city, so they’ll go all over the world and he’ll never find them all.” “We should destroy them,” Jorang pointed out. “All of them, to be sure.” Gallara choked. The idea of wiping out a rare species made her feel sick all over again. Even if it made sense, in this case. Zedenko grimaced. “That would be … okay, fine, we could do that.” “Or we could just eat ‘em,” Alakshi shrugged. “Yeah, you go ahead,” Zedenko grunted. “I don’t want to grow a giant beanstalk where it’ll do me the least good.” “What if it grew where it would do you the *most* good?” He winced. “I think you’re overestimating my ambitions.”
November 23, 2025 at 5:00 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#FantasyIndiesNovember
23. Advice for dealing with impostor syndrome

The only way to get Actually Good is to practice, so you might as well keep writing even if you're an impostor.
Besides, bestsellers have been written by total hacks.
Most importantly, if you're having fun, you're doing it right.
FantasyIndiesNovember 23. Advice for dealing with impostor syndrome
November 23, 2025 at 4:47 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#NovemberWorldbuilders
Not all rulers are beloved or remembered well. The Luteneskens certainly weren't.
She flipped to the next page, then pointed her finger there, there, there. “The populace hailed their extinction as time to join with the rest of the region in abandoning monarchy, and Trongle got absorbed by Quisoll immediately; it makes up most of the present-day Soloban region. The Tronglian populace made a thorough search for anyone who might claim a right to rule Trongle again, but no one was found. They did execute the family pets, though, just to be sure.” “So someone probably escaped, then,” Zedenko nodded. He groaned inwardly; how the hell was he going to find some bastard child who’d made it to another country and reproduced for the past four hundred years? “Nope,” Ladrint snapped. “Their lineage was a disaster for at least its last five generations; there’s such a thing as keeping the royal blood too pure, you know? Along with the behavior that made the citizens glad to see them die out, it gave the family several physical characteristics that made them impossible to miss or mistake for someone else – including spinal problems that made it hard for them to even get around. If any of them had still been alive, they would have been found.”
November 23, 2025 at 5:38 AM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
The MCs of Prophecy #72 have to break the transparent fourth wall of an important room, but they've found a magic wand that might help.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
Gallara looked down at it, her eyes wide. “Ooookay …” She aimed the wand at the barrier again and pressed the third jewel; the wand just shook even faster and louder. She pressed the first jewel again, and the wand went still. She looked at Zedenko and her friends, eyes still wide. “I’m not sure we got the right wand for this.” “Try holding it against the barrier,” Zedenko supplied. “Might as well.” Gallara pressed the wand’s head to the clear wall and pressed the middle jewel again. This time, its loud rumble was echoed by the barrier as it rattled in place. Gallara frumpled her brow and pressed the third jewel; the barrier’s rumble intensified, and then a huge crack appeared in the almost-nothing. That was all the warning they got before the whole thing shattered. Three different shouts and a squawk accompanied the sound of crystalline shards raining to the ground as Zedenko turned away and shielded his eyes. Then the rumbling sound stopped, and Gallara said, “I didn’t see that coming. Did you?”
November 23, 2025 at 4:36 AM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Seff may not realize it, but she's growing wiser and more clever as she rises to the occasion of life's endless problems. Rhugada is more experienced, but recognizes Seff's shrewdness and is happy to go along with it.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
A few constable patrolmen - armed with clubs, swords, daggers, and short lengths of rope - walked beats through the magical light in the streets along with the well-to-do nightlife, but didn’t take much notice of us. I noticed they always turned back before they reached a certain block, no matter which direction they were coming from. If I didn’t already know where Finer Things Wine Shop was, that was a nice big clue; there were probably plenty of places they’d been told not to look at too closely, but Finer Things was supposed to be right in that area. “It’s over there.” I gave a little nod in its direction, and turned down a street leading directly away from it. Rhugada just nodded back and followed at my side. We’d have to approach the wine shop eventually, but walking to it straight from the temple wouldn’t have been smart.
November 21, 2025 at 6:50 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#SFFChat
Rhugada introduces themselves to Drohim and Seff. Their gender is never explicitly discussed or remarked on, but everyone uses their correct pronouns; their gender isn't the important part. Their moral complexity and their uncanny competence are.
“Excuse me.” I fought down the panic that leaped up my spine, and whirled around with one hand well clear of my sword and my cloak hiding how close my other hand was to my dagger. Drohim turned more slowly, and there we found the customer in leathers and fur from the shop. Their smile was entirely businesslike, as far as I could tell, but it was hard to be sure with the unusual set of their lips; their eyes seemed larger and more circular than mine or Drohim’s, their nose small and pointed, with craggy cheekbones beneath a strangely gray cast to their skin. Their mix of coarse and fine features looked like they had both human and elven blood from all over the world, but there had to be more than that, too - maybe dwarf or some distant orc, if that was possible, or maybe something I’d never even heard of; I couldn’t help but wish I could sketch them. They also had a new combat knife hanging from their belt, large enough that it was on its way to being a machete. Drohim looked them up and down, all at once, and calmly replied, “Can I help you?” “I can help you,” the newcomer replied calmly. Far more neutrally than I could have managed, and with the ring in his voice, Drohim asked them, “How so?” They smiled a little more. “You’re preparing for long travel, and I’m a guide who can get you anywhere safely. The two of you loaded up on as many weapons as you think won’t get you noticed, and I’m more than a fair hand in a fight. You pay with coins that haven’t even been spent before, and I’m good at keeping secrets.”
November 20, 2025 at 7:45 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Seff's not used to feeling special, and the idea of being treated as special is uncomfortable for her. Then there's the creeping feeling she's trying to ignore that Drohim is talking about her future as a Blade ...

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
“There’s another particular day a little before Saint Lassona’s, isn’t there?” Drohim dropped casually. My stomach clenched and I frantically wracked my brains, trying to think of what else I’d missed. Ugh, why was he doing this to me? And right now, of all times? “I … I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.” I was looking at the ground and trying not to make eye contact with him when I noticed his smile, and I accidentally looked up at him. “Haven’t you had a birthday, Seff?” I … yes, I had, actually. It honestly didn’t feel worth mentioning to me, especially not now; my family had barely done anything about it when I’d lived with them, and Drohim hadn’t done much more than mention it in the past two years. “Um, I guess that’s right, sir.” “When all of this is over, we’ll think of something special for you.” He seemed like he already had plans in mind; maybe he was thinking we could get the church to provide new horses for us. That would be worth celebrating, but at that moment, I wished the Many would just get us home safely.
November 20, 2025 at 4:47 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#FantasyIndiesNovember
20. Where do you find inspiration?

A lot of it comes from subverting common tropes, like Drohim grudgingly rescuing his almost-ex husband; or asking myself "How could I do something interesting with that trope?", like with the ghost story I wrote that inspired my next novel.
FantasyIndiesNovember 20. Where do you find inspiration?
November 20, 2025 at 4:37 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
This has been my go-to cookie recipe for years.
Brown Butter Sugar Snaps 3/4 cup butter 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 1/4 teaspoon baking powder 1/4 teaspoon salt 1/2 cup granulated sugar 1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar 1 egg 1/2 teaspoon vanilla also, maybe try adding molasses or butterscotch/white chocolate chips Heat the oven to 350 F. In a small saucepan, heat butter over medium heat 4-7 minutes, until it turns a deep nutty brown (watch carefully because butter burns easily). Immediately pour browned butter into a large bowl and cool it for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, stir together flour, baking powder, and salt until blended in a small bowl, and set it aside. Add the granulated sugar and brown sugar to the cooled butter, then beat it with a whisk or electric mixer for two minutes or until well blended. Add the egg and vanilla, and beat on low speed until combined. Add the dry ingredient mixture and beat it until a soft, crumbly dough forms. Roll into little balls and squish them into circles on a cookie sheet (it won't need to be greased), or roll the dough on a floured countertop and cut it into shapes. Bake 7-9 minutes or until the edges are light brown. Cool two minutes, then move the cookies from the cookie sheets to cooling racks. Cool completely before storing them in an airtight container. They should be firm and chewy, but if you put them in the fridge, they'll get crunchier. Frosting should be totally unnecessary. Eat while drinking ginger tea, laughing about old times with good friends, or writing a letter to a relative you don't see often enough.
November 20, 2025 at 4:38 AM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
In the wake up their last fight with the necromancer Kevra, Seff and an injured Drohim recall clues and think about their implications for their many enemies.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
“The dead people she brought with her - at least some of them had tattoos. A flame over a crown. They were Grekaan.” Drohim stayed quiet for another moment; I almost thought he’d gone back to sleep, but I could see tiny changes in his expression as he made himself think and remember through his pain and exhaustion. “Then maybe Kevra and the Grekaan have … parted ways.” He smiled a tiny bit, just for a second. “Maybe they didn’t appreciate her failure to -” He grunted in sudden pain. “- finish us off. Maybe she took that personally.” “The guy on the horse held up this pendant thing at us on the road to Drepmar,” I remembered, pulling it out of my pocket, “and Kevra was wearing it both times she attacked us herself. I think it tracks our location somehow. If Kevra isn’t cooperating with the other Grekaan anymore, she probably wouldn’t have told them where she found us last or where we were going, and they won’t know where we are now.” Drohim smiled more, very carefully. “They’re sure to be on their guard now, but won’t know anything specific. Hopefully. We can’t be sure, but it can only help.” I nodded, then felt my gut clench as a new thought hit me. “I can’t bring myself to really believe Kevra’s dead this time,” I admitted, “but if she’s their enemy now, they might have more to worry about than us, or keeping Torvandin locked up.” And with the Trokaan hopefully moving on them soon, the Grekaan could be fighting two enemies at once without even known we were the third.
November 19, 2025 at 9:05 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
In Prophecy #72, Alakshi (who is really, really drunk) finally confronts her best friend, Kolent (who is a monster from another layer of reality), about his discomfort with her befriending the other MCs.
Art by Mona Finden.

#Lovember #WritingPrompt #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #writingprompts
“You know already! People on your layer hurt you!” “And some of them try to make it better. That’s what friends do, not that *you* ever have!” Shit, the dizziness was getting worse and her balance was hanging by a tendon. She put a hand behind her and leaned back against the wall. She couldn’t do this much longer. “I better friend! I *never* hurt you!” She retched a little. It was the only thing that stopped her from telling him he was wrong. “Kolent, I’m not a child anymore. I need to be my own person. I can’t - I won’t base my entire life around you. I love you, and I want you in my life, but I deserve to have other friends besides just you.” Kolent snarled, “If you love me, then you not need other friends.” “*No!* That is *not* what love is!” she exploded. “It’s not blocking people out, and it’s not trying to force me to!” Her arm gave out and her shoulder crashed into the wall. “You damn … possessive …” Her tongue and brain both failed to find more words. Kolent got very quiet for a moment, his alien but so-familiar face twisting in pain and … she couldn’t tell what else. “You say you want to be own person,” he growled. “You *mean* you have others, so you not want me.” Alakshi, a half-human, half-elven warrior in a leather vest, patched trousers, and boots. She's holding a spear in one hand and hoisting a tankard of beer in the other, and smiling. A long dagger is attached to her belt. She has muscles. Art by Mona Finden. Kolent, a towering inhuman monster with blue skin, huge amounts of muscle, a bald human-like head, six eyes on his face, no nose, a circular mouth surrounded by what look like squirming beetle legs, two huge eyes in his shoulders, and four arms. Each of his arms has three segments, unlike a typical human's two. The top two arms are raised like a spider challenging something to a fight and they end in large bony spikes; the bottom two arms are held low and end in three-fingered hands with claws.
November 19, 2025 at 8:47 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
Gallara has a constant companion in Prax, her best friend. He's an impdrake, a species that look like little dragons but have no magic and barely enough intelligence to understand language. He has the attitude of a cat, but one that's very devoted to its person.
#WritingQ #WritingCommunity #writesky
Gallara, an olive-skinned, dark-haired elven woman, stands and looks anxiously to one side. She holds a straight-bladed sword in one hand, and the other crackles with a tiny bit of magical power. She wears leather plate armor on her torso, with her shirt askew beneath it, suggesting she's not used to wearing it. A backpack full of plants and sample jars rests on the ground next to her. A dragon-like animal the size of a raven or so rests on her shoulder, wings flared. Art by Mona Finden.
November 18, 2025 at 6:10 PM