Kobold King

Steve Lawrence could live a thousand lives, and the end of every one of them would be debilitating idiocy. UM... NO? MY CAPS LOCK KEY GOT STUCK. HONEST.

I think we found out who Backtrack was in a past life. DARN STRAIGHT.

Their relationship was at least consensual. But he's shouting now! Everybody knows that shouting is a perfectly mature and reasonable way to handle disputes.

Do I see a lovely Neverthere/Numnums dinner date in the making? What couples are you referring to? Good question. Personally I think weaknesses should be delivered to Edgedancer as the Local GM and to TwiLyght as the Supreme GM, but the answer is up to the Powers That Be.

Lightwards froze on the street, staring in outrage at the diamond finger being waved in front of his face. "Sneak in a drink?" he spat incredulously. "I'll have you know that I haven't touched alcohol in years, queen. Where you even gained that impression is beyond me, but I will trust that you will not be so foolish as to throw unfounded insults in my face again!" "What about well-founded insults?" Cricket asked dryly from the sidelines. "Are those still kosher?" Lightwards spun furiously on the other woman, hand on his pistol. "AM I NOT AN EPIC?" he shouted furiously. The words filled the street, and what few lights were still visible in the nearby houses shut off in an instant. "Has everyone in this city deemed me unworthy of any form of respect? You will keep your mouth closed, little Epic, or I will scatter your remains across every corner of this city. Do I make myself clear?" Cricket stepped backwards in alarm, but nodded with a scowl. Satisfied with having cowed the lesser Epic, Lightwards turned back to Lucentia, still fuming. "I am the Emperor of this city," he hissed. "You are nothing more than a foreign dignitary. It is not your place to rebuke or admonish me like one of your servants back home. If your eyes take in what mine have missed, you will approach me with the respect due to an Epic of my stature. Funtimes may be insane, but you are a respectable monarch and I expect you to act as such. Do I make myself clear?"

Oh, that! Very well, granted. Your left foot will have only three toes from now on, and your right foot shall have nineteen. I wish for a talking turkey vulture named Leonardo.

Not having read the books, when you said "Carlisle" my first thought was Jeff Carlisle, AKA Purple Phoenix. Who also would have made the books ten times more interesting, I'm sure.

Not at all. It's just hard to jinx someone with a sufficiently entrepreneurial spirit.

I don't know, but now I kind of want to make an Epic who fits that description.

Storm it, Edgedancer. Now I want to re-write "The Perfect Stallion" for pony!Oregon.

Are you hinting at Koschei x Lucentia or Koschei x Lightwards?

Even one of those feathers sold to one of the world's museums would net me a hundred thousand dollars. If I spend just one afternoon collecting feathers and putting them in Ziploc bags, I can afford my own deep-sea underwater fortress by next week.

A bald dodo? That is adorable. That is really, ludicrously adorable. It's so adorable I should write a children's series called The Bald Dodo, all about a comical dodo that sheds its feathers every time it sneezes. It's that adorable.

Granted. The water in your bottle is so wonderful, wars break out over the right to control it. The war wages for twenty-five years, during which you only barely manage to survive by fleeing from one stronghold to the next. Nations fall apart. Continents sink into the sea. What species don't go extinct are weaponized into horrifying abominations. Finally, on February 17, 2040, the Assimilated Kingdoms of Greater Meridia apply a scorched earth policy to your bottle, tossing you and the bottle into an incinerator. Without you and the bottle to spark wars, the world slowly begins to recover. I wish for a pet dodo.

To the best of my understanding, the prompt is simply a way to get people in the spirit of writing. I for one wouldn't mind if anyone posted something not based on a prompt. This was Quiver's idea and Twi's prompt though, so maybe ask them?

We all knew this would happen eventually. Brandon Sanderson's writing is so awesome, it's beginning to issue harmonics down the quantum strings and altering reality on a base level. Right now, this manifests as technology being subtly steered towards his more Earth-like stories. Once the third Mistborn trilogy has been finished, the Milky Way galaxy will become a carbon copy of the Cosmere.

Would it bring back traumatic memories if I said this? Fatal error: Allowed memory size of 387973120 bytes exhausted (tried to allocate 438495536 bytes) in Unknown on line 0

Wouldn't we then need two Emily Sandersons, and either second versions of all his children or a complex visiting schedule? And wouldn't TOR then be required to hire two separate teams of people to publish the vast numbers of novels the pair create? What if they wrote two conflicting versions versions of the Cosmere? Or what if both Brandon Sandersons wanted to write the same novel? What if the two of them fought to the death for the right to write Elantris 2? Other than those considerations, it's an excellent suggestion. Welcome to the forum!

Anybody who's been on the forum long enough to cheerfully exclaim "And then Fatal Memory Error died" at the top of your lungs, raise your hand!

That latter one should be the name of a band.

Why does Odium have more votes than Harmony? WHY DOES ODIUM HAVE MORE VOTES THAN HARMONY?

"Brandon Sanderson"? "Head of the Seventeenth Shard"? Something so obscure that nobody but Chaos can remember what it is?

Sorry to hear that. I'll try to track it down and remake it. I've got too much free time on my hands anyway.

Joe, since you're online and I'm stocking the Pony Vault once more, do you still have the Blackwave pony code?

Dutifully assimilated into the Pony Vault.