A wanderer of the netherworld, a human with no one left to care for,  a dwarf who has no home, and she, who shouldn't even exist and no one ever loved. Four outcasts, chased by the mercilessness of life, are drifted together by ill fortune to form a strange fellowship. Together, they set on a journey to save their shattered world from impending cataclysm, and bring back a future long forgotten. Their paths lead through ruins of bygone eras, foreign empires surrounded by terror, beautiful and deadly lost lands, while they must find a way to a land dreaded by all living, and face the demons of their own past. This is the story of a broken world, relentless persecution and superstitious hatred, a war against the darkest horrors of the twilight's colorless planes, and the damned who oppose and never yield to fate. This is not a fairytale.

What to expect:

A medieval high-fantasy with elves, dwarves, fairies and demons, magic and swords, romance and hatred, and a post-apocalyptic world. This is not a fanfiction of any sort, it's an original story that popped out from my head, and it's very dear to me. I'll be really happy if you give it a try!

Please read the short "Good to know" chapter before you dive in!

Our world is full of secrets. Secrets that not a lot of people know about. Secrets that better stay hidden from the masses…

A highly organised terrorist group has gained in power for years. Infiltrating large companies, rebel groups, even governments… Eliminating this threat is the primary target of the top-secret, international organisation, the World Security Coalition. A new type of shadow warfare has commenced…

Dawn joined the organisation only several months ago, but already proved to be one of the most competent operators the WSC ever had. She is part of ‘the younger generation’, an initiative to recruit young-adults as new agents.

But defeating this new threat won’t be her sole struggle. Struggling social skills, teammates, and a recruit to work with, a feeling of guilt towards the only teammate that neared the term ‘friend’ and constant lying to her ‘normal life’ friends, one is even getting suspicious…

Is she physically impregnable enough to absorb all the pain of her wounds? Is she mentally strong enough to carry on this ambiguous life? Will she, get through this, or will she, only look through the pain?

At what cost will this all end?

(Sidenote: this story contains many genres and not one is disproportionately dominant over the others.)

Warning some may be dark humor

Enjoy them

feel free to suggest joke subjects

Do I really need to introduce this? It's exactly what it sounds like. Out-of-Context quotes.

Just something to know before reading this, though: there's swearing, could be mentions of sex in the future, and other stuff that sounds cursed. So, if you don't want to see that...then don't read this.

--I first gazed upon the individual who would become my personal God while jumping out of the back of a pickup--

That's the opening line from this story's narrator. He's able to assume the form of werewolf, dog, or human. He's looking for an influencer named Julia who has become so popular she has ascended into divinity.

Goddess Julia remains immature and irresponsible while discovering how to smite a believer, engage in combat against other goddesses, and establish a religion that's often mocked.

Be witness to hilarity, hijinks, and Hell Hath No Fury Like a Goddess still allergic to pet hair.

If you're a villain that has met the Grim Reaper, how do you recover? Travel back in time twenty-some years to 1999.

Villain Boer Boar, (now in death referred to as "BB" at times, since it's easier to type-out), was on his way to becoming the first trillionaire, until a vigilante crushed him underfoot.

Apparently, a few real stand-up heroes will have to return to 1999 as well. Not to smell the roses, listen to grunge music, and stop washing their hair, but to prevent BB from erasing - and then penciling in - a revised history.

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This story is about "Mother Hulker", a friendly, neighborhood, sometimes-green woman.

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Superhero Mother Hulker's secret identity name is Jennifer Sassy. She works as a law professor.

"you think I let go because I never had feelings for you" Alex has always been a logical person but saying I never liked him is not reasonable "if you did, it wouldn't have been so easy to move on just because of toxic fans" I feel guilty about that and hearing it again is piercing my open wound

I'm the bad guy in my own story "you moved on with a public figure, what made you think the media can't hurt him but it can hurt me" my tears are already falling uncontrollably

This is making my heart ache become five times more painful "Alex, I'm so sorry, it won't do anything really but I also feel worst, Ga heul oppa just kind of happened" I sniffled "I feel toxic saying anything to you, no matter what I say I feel like I'm still at fault, I hated how you looked when the picture got online, you weren't the Alex I knew" I moved a little closer "I wish I hadn't run away then" I am already a sobbing mess "I wish I fought for what we had, I loved what we had" I hugged him

A tongue and cheek parody of Billy Squier's The Stroke and Lonely is the Night.

Jennifer was starting at a cushy, less stressful, job. Additionally, she was going by her true name again. Well, at least God-given first name. As to her last name, not so much. She had altered her last name to "Sassy". She figured if you're assuming a new identity why not give it some zing.

Jennifer established a new identity and was in hiding because of computer hacking crimes she committed years earlier. Government agents thought they should be looking for a socially isolated individual. They didn't think to question a six-foot, seven-inch, green-skinned attorney.

Agents that might have suspected Jennifer also knew there was no reason to aggravate a person known for flare ups of anger. Indeed, everyone who had ever interacted with her even a little bit knew there were days when she had on "The Jennifer Face". It wasn't an emotionally cold 1,000-yard distant stare. Although hard to define, everyone could see "The Face," even when she wore sunglasses. At those times, no one approached her without an essential reason for doing so. They all stayed the hell out of her way.

On Jennifer's first day in her job as a law professor at the University of Wisconsin Law School, she had to prepare for two classes. Intellectual Property was her morning class, and Criminal Law was her afternoon one. Jennifer was on her way to the students' Memorial Union to get a cup of their much remarked upon coffee when she received an email on her Blackberry from the school's receptionist. The email read: "Professor, a young man who gave his name as 'Quickie' is waiting here. He's like you." That "like you” part in the email message was the receptionist's nice, passive, way of saying that Quickie must have an unusual physical feature, or demonstrated a superhuman feat. This would be similar to Jennifer's amazing height and green skin, plus enhanced strength and invulnerability.

Jennifer had been exposed to radiation from one of two nuclear bombs that went off years earlier in the American Southwest. Perhaps because neutron bombs had been employed, rather than the type of atomic bombs that had been used earlier, no one died within the radius of the explosions. Indeed, some people in the blast radius had ended up gaining various superpowers. Apparently, Quickie must have been exposed to this radiation as well. Jennifer knew she had to turn around and find out what the heck this Quickie fellow wanted. She was going to have to talk to him and lose the spare time she had set aside to more fully prepare for her first class. Furthermore, she was going to have to talk to him without her morning coffee. Involuntarily, before she even laid eyes on Quickie, she was going to arrive sporting the "Jennifer Face".

Author's NotesIn 1989, a comic book series began where a green-skinned heroine "broke down the fourth wall" to address her author. A red costumed mercenary appeared for the first time in 1991.

Can't say he made you do it...

Til death do us part

My own worst critic...