“Don't go away. Don't let him make you go away.”

“How? Is Kazmina strong enough to defend me against him?”

“No. But I am.”

Soul Sword
Chapter 1: The Prologue

By Blackout

Editor: Zip

Terry was your typical average teenage boy. But like most stories he was about to be startled by some unexplainable power, but hey that’s what makes the story interesting. Read on as the life of one typical teenage boy except for his hobby of swordsmanship is turned around as he discovers a world he never thought he would enter in more ways than one.

Shaboom

by shalimar

As the Evil Witch, shalimar turns Giggles into his daughter. She then turns him into mom, and the fun begins. Based on Hyperboard messages around March 2001, and on a suggestion by Sigh.
New roles for the SRU Wizard and Bikini Beach's Anya.

Copyright 2001, revised 2011.

On and Over (1st draft preview)
by Cleo Kraft

PROLOG

Small soft hands opened the door and a cute little blonde girl's head peeked in the room. She bit her lower lip as she looked around for any sign of people around. Her breathing was hurried and panting a bit as she had just ran from the park all the way up Forest Avenue to Dr. Jenning's place.

“Love is a thing holy to Kalotse, and...” Just then she heard a wailing, which got momentarily louder; one of the servants came in holding a fussy, just-woken Miretsi. “A thing with unexpected consequences,” she concluded.

I've always wondered what would have happened if I never had went to the shop to get that juice box....
I probably would have dehydrated and died.
But that's not the point, because it was that juice box that changed my life.
It was apple, by the way.

“What do you mean, young lady, bringing my daughter's would-be lover under my roof under false pretenses?”

 
The Nightingale's Song
 
by Armond
 
 
Anuvar, a glistening jewel in the sea, gifted by the Goddess to Her people. Yet their ears have become deaf to Her song, and a doom hangs over the Isle. The famed singer Orlando typifies their plight; the Goddess gifted him with the most amazing talent to stir men’s souls, yet he squanders it for wenching and wine. An horrific crime sets the troubadour on a different path, but will it lead to the redemption or damnation of the Isle?
 
 

The Red Shoes had slowly started to remember. At first the memories had been vague. The only thing they had remembered was its purpose, and just barely at that. But now the memories kept coming back.

Have you gotten Melisande with child yet?”

“She would know better than I,” he said, flushing. “But she had her monthly bleeding a few days ago.”

She was dirty and sweaty from working in the garden, but not much less beautiful for that. But it seemed odd that he did not recognize her; the wizard hired his human servants from among the peasants within a few miles of Harold’s farm, and Rodric knew everyone living in that region.

When she raised her eyes from the bush and saw him, she called out, “Help me!”

“Rana... He’s toying with you...” In spite of the noise of the dead girl’s screams and the chaos of the fight, Greta’s raspy, sick-sounding voice rang clear in Rana’s ears. She couldn’t see very well, with her eyes teared up from the pain and shock of the blow to her face, but from her voice Rana was sure Greta was barely clinging to life.

“We need something better,” she said. “We need to make a good impression, as a pair of fine ladies — ”

“What?” he exclaimed.

“I'll explain in a little bit; I've figured out how to disguise you when we meet Psavian and Tsavila.”

“There's a haunt; do you make away with it, you'll have sweet supper and soft bed.”

“A haunt?” Kazmina asked, dismayed.

“A phantasm, a ghost?” the woman said. “In the barn yonder.”