BlueWildRye

Block also got stabbed in the eye on the ginger cult topic, too, so he's having a rough time. Also I am now joining the brunette/brown/black hair cult.

Words of Radiance reference, isn't it?

Thank you!!!

Hi! I've written a couple of short stories, and this is the first full-length book I actually finished. It's pretty short for a novel, only about 31,600 words (which is still a short story by Brandon Sanderson ways). Anyways, here is the first chapter. The book is called The Dungeon King, by the way. *Warning: Quite a bit of blood and violence. Chapter One The Bloodmoon Carcer stood among a crowd of people atop the castle wall, watching intently as the king addressed them. He stood in front of a massive pit that had only a stone parapet, a foot tall, separating the crowd from eternity. The king himself had a long, unkempt, dark beard, and wild, shoulder-length hair. His eyes were feral, as if he were mad. And he is, according to the townsfolk, thought Carcer. The king gripped a bastard sword in his right hand so tightly that his knuckles were white. "I am so pleased to be with you on this wonderful night, my peasants!" the king shouted, raising his arms in the air. Behind him, the full moon rose, but it was not white. It was red, blood red, fitting for the events that would go down tonight. Two armored soldiers walked up behind the king. They were no normal men, however. They were tall, tall beyond the limit of any natural human. Carcer had heard that some reached the height of a horse rearing on its hind legs. They wore armor that was the same color as the moon: red, blood red. Each one carried not a sword, but a long scythe. Their faces were masked by crimson sallets. Carcer wondered if they even had faces, after all, they had never taken off their helmets in front of anyone. They clutched their scythes eagerly, but the king put his hand in front of them. "As you know," he began, "Every full moon we hold an event, a tradition that has been passed down for centuries!" Carcer nodded grimly at that phrase, for he knew that no other king before this one had ever held these events. He had heard that the king was known to rewrite history in his favor, and persecute any who dared speak the truth. "Tonight, we will hold… the EXECUTIONS! LET THE KILLING BEGIN!" Immediately the king grabbed the nearest peasant, a thin, elderly, balding man, and tossed him into the air just above the pit. The man screamed as the king held out his sword. The man was sliced in half by the sword, and both halves fell into the pit. Blood fell onto the parapet. The king did not wipe the man’s own from his blade. Surprisingly, the guards stayed back, letting the king do the slaughter. They usually did the executions. Carcer looked away sick as another man was decapitated. He slowly backed away, bumping into the peasants who were forced to watch. He tripped and nearly fell, almost drawing the king’s attention, but a hand caught and steadied him. Carcer spun around to see a tall, lean young man with dirty blond hair. "First time?" he asked. "I never thought that it was this terrible…" Carcer stammered. "Where did you come from? My name is Aiden." Aiden grimaced as the king laughed maniacally, grabbing another person by the throat. "Mine is Carcer, and I came from a republic across the sea. My village was raided by pirates, and I was enslaved and taken to a cove near this kingdom, where I managed to escape. Hoping not to get captured again, I fled until I made it to this kingdom," Carcer explained. Aiden nodded, shaking his hand. "Well, Carcer, welcome to hell." He pulled out a small bag from his belt and handed it to Carcer. "Here, take this. Maybe it can help you get around." Carcer opened the bag, wondering what was inside. It was filled to the brim with gold, silver, and copper coins. Carcer frowned when he noticed the symbols minted onto them. The gold coins showed an image of the king, the silver had an arm holding a scythe. The copper had a rough depiction of what it looked like when someone was executed by a particularly insane executioner. Aiden noticed the reason for Carcer’s expression and shook his head sadly, then said, "Use them well. Don’t tell anyone, but I pickpocketed them off one of the Mad King’s guards." As Carcer turned to watch the king throw another corpse into the pit, he accidentally dropped the pouch onto the floor. Sirens in his head started going off as the coins spilled everywhere, loudly clanking against the dusty stone floor. The king turned his head to face Carcer, a menacing smile that showed crooked teeth on his face. He grabbed Carcer by the arm, who yelped in desperation, trying with as much effort as he could to escape his grip. "Prepare to meet the cold blade of my sword, and the warm blood of my prior victims!" the king screamed, tossing Carcer into the air. The king held out his sword, and Carcer waited for the agonizing pain of being sliced in half. However, at that moment, someone slammed into him, and he and the other person fell, having narrowly missed the sword. Even if I avoided the king’s blade, the bottom of this pit still awaits me! I’m going to be pulverized on impact! Carcer thought, panicked. He tried to look down, but he began to spin wildly in the air. He saw the ground growing closer and closer… Then, he hit, and everything went black.

In The Sunlit Man, Sigzil originally mistakes Hoid for Kaladin. Personally, this seems to suggest Sigzil hasn't seen Kaladin in a very, very long time. This got me thinking about Kaladin's fate. Did he die? Or is he still around during the Space Age of the Cosmere? If the latter is true, then that would also mean that he and Sigzil have not met in a while. Thoughts?

*wonders when the sandwich was even swapped*

I soulcast the smoke into marble, freezing Unintelligenius and Jerome in the stone, then get several sticks of dynamite and begin blowing a tunnel towards the sandwich.

Granted! You can never speed time back to normal, and are stuck with your friends and family in a world where every hour, a second passes. I wish that I could cure any disease.

304. Psychopaths will do anything to renown you.

I infiltrate algonkorahbrothers' brotherhood and perform a cult ritual which teleports the sandwich far away. I check my radar and discover that it is in the Sandwich Islands (Hawai'i). I then steal some of the cash to buy a private jet to fly there, but of course I'm not flying it because I have PTSD from the time I died in that one plane crash.

Instead, beautiful abandoned chickens live inside Chasmfiends alone.

59. algonkorahbrothers

I'm worried, are my arms attached?

This is awesome!!!!! And the idea is so unique too.

Beautiful evil chickens live inside alone.

The 631st time this year. And it's not even the cat's birthday yet!

I grab a bow and arrow and shoot the hang glider down, then catch the sandwich and shuffle away awkwardly because undead have decreased speed.

Unreal

I think I'm dead several times over.

You are now wise, but stupid (they can be separate) I wish for a glass swan with 122726282010276236 atoms in it.

Shedding my skin, then leaving the husk in a place convenient for humans to find and admire. Why are carpets made of velvet?

Granted. You are now stranded on the moon with no supplies or protection from the elements. I wish for the capacity to stop what is coming. Intelligence and kindness.

I stumble into a jet and try to fly it, then remember my hands are nonfunctional and crash the jet into the helicopter, sending the sandwich spiraling into the air.

I summon a genie and wish for the sandwich to be teleported into my hand, which has a broken wrist from the car accident so I accidentally drop it down a storm drain.

I Wayne-trade the sandwich for my pocket watch, jump into a car, and drive away.