Fox Veros, Novelist
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verosthewriter.bsky.social
Fox Veros, Novelist
@verosthewriter.bsky.social
960 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.
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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
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
In Prophecy #71, Jorang observes his allies' combat styles during a big fight with baelgs; Gallara (whose sword is poisoned with a numbing agent, btw) doesn't measure up to his standards.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
Those she wounded staggered unexpectedly within heartbeats of feeling her blade. Her shrewd footwork led her attackers into each other’s paths and she exploited any point they left unguarded. She used the narrow hallway and its obstructions to minimize their ability to attack more than one at a time as they squinted against her magical light. She was gradually retreating away from her allies instead of moving to assist them, backing down the hallway and taking her light with her – not evading the fight itself, but leaving the baelgs a longer trail of their dying kin to clamber over at the cost of their balance. She was employing cleverness over genuine skill, merely outwitting her enemies’ instincts. Her swordsmanship demonstrated her basic military training amid the magic and tactical footwork, yet she clearly lacked experience. Even after her sparring with Jorang, movements that should have been automatic still required too much thought, and her frequent hesitation as she read her opponents’ motions suggested that she gave even more thought than necessary. The imperfect edge alignment in her sword strikes made many of her cuts too shallow to disable her enemies as they should have, allowing more attacks from even the wounded and staggering. Her response to this was to give in to fear and hack at them in amateurish desperation that would exhaust her before long. And like Zedenko, she fought as if she expected no aid from her allies and as though they should expect none from her.
November 18, 2025 at 5:52 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Grinks & Co. have found a huge stash of priceless gems. Now they just have to figure out what to do with all the loot.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
Grinks laughed. “Oh, shut up, all of you. Everybody is getting an equal share of this.” Taraltos shrugged nonchalantly. “If you insist. I do kind of feel bad for wanting to take them, though. I mean, aren’t they Omodé’s?” “She gave them to us, remember?” Grinks shamelessly eye-fucked the gems but didn’t touch them yet. “Besides, we can’t leave these here for the duke to find.” “Ugh, good point,” Davik agreed, stepping closer to the box. “But what would we even do with so much?” “See the world!” Laylee burst out. “I mean, we could sell these, right? And just go wherever we wanted! Do whatever we wanted!” “All of us, traveling the world together? Count me in,” Davik grinned. “I like this idea,” Taraltos nodded. “And moving around and only selling one or two gems in each place we visit would attract a lot less attention than if we sold them all at once.” Grinks’ grin took on a less frantic, but even more pleased, cast. “That would be fantastic! But, what if we gave some of it away, too? I mean, you can all do what you want with your share, but even a tenth of my share will be more than I could ever need.” Davik nodded his head in near-bewilderment. “I’ve been living off the land half the year since I was a teenager. I think I’d go crazy if I tried to spend all this on myself.” “Seriously,” Laylee agreed. “Some nice things now and then would be cool, but … I think I’ve already got what I really want.”
November 17, 2025 at 6:08 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#FantasyIndiesNovember
17. Your hobbies

Other than writing and reading, I play strategy-based video games and tabletop games, and I love tabletop roleplaying games.
FantasyIndiesNovember 17. Your hobbies
November 17, 2025 at 5:55 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
Commenting on her parentage and breaking her heart are red flags for Alakshi. She's also not thrilled at the idea of being defined by whether or not she's had sex, but she wasn't going to date the unicorn, anyway.

#dailyocs #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts #writingprompt
Pell-ass tried to raise his head, and failed. “Nay! You are a maiden, true and chaste, for none other could tame one such as myself! It is the way of the noble unicorn race!” Alakshi snorted. “How would that make a difference? I’d heard that rumor before, but I didn’t think an actual unicorn would believe it.” Jorang’s face remained carefully impassive, and Gallara blushed a little. Zedenko was glad his face was too swollen for anyone to tell what his expression was. The skinny yak gaped in horror. “It cannot be! You must be -” “Tell it to Erekel Willowsway, to begin with.” Alakshi’s expression turned bitter as she glared at everyone else. “We got it on for about two weeks, okay? Then I caught him bragging to his friends that he was ‘just using the halfsy for sex,’ so I broke both his arms.” No one said a word to that, and she looked back at the unicorn. “Now that we have that cleared up, you’re released from my service.”
November 16, 2025 at 10:41 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Seff and Drohim have just escaped the constabulary where they have been brutally interrogated and almost killed. They finally have an outlet for the adrenaline and fear.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
The ability to move so freely again, to throw all my strength into something, to just *run* from that horrible place filled me with a joy almost as keen and all-consuming as my fear. I’d never run so hard or fast in my life, and as the cobblestones flew under my feet, I wanted to never, ever stop.
November 16, 2025 at 9:04 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Drohim and Seff trek through an awful swamp with Rhugada's help. Rhugada demonstrates their survival skills, and maybe a touch of humility.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Despite all that, we made surprising progress. The flies and the smell and the feeling that something was going to crawl over my neck at any moment made sure life wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t as bad as I might have legitimately expected. Rhugada glided a little ahead of us at one point and cut an especially unfriendly vine away from a sick-looking tree while we caught up. “This is stookvai, in case you’re wondering. The thorns are big enough and tough enough to be used as arrowheads when steel isn’t available.” They carefully pared its enormous, triangular thorns off as we walked. “It’s a little poisonous, too, so the arrow wounds itch like hell.” I wrinkled my nose at that horrible thought - even though I could see the potential value in it. “But you’re handling the vine with your bare hands,” I pointed out. “Stookvai poison stopped bothering me a long time ago.” If anything, their smile was just a little smug as they pocketed the thorns. “If you don’t have feathers available, goorma leaves are sturdy enough to cut for fletching, and the right size. Too bad they don’t grow in the same areas.” Drohim asked, “What would you use to secure the fletchings into the arrow shaft?”, and my eyebrows pulled together as I tried to figure out if I’d heard him correctly. Rhugada smiled in what was probably surprise, too, and pride. “Pitch from a mourning pine, boiled with a little animal fat of any kind. Beeswax and resin for the arrowhead.” They shrugged a little. “Unless you can just buy proper arrows.”
November 15, 2025 at 6:12 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
CW: gore, compound fracture
An enormous monster tried to eat Alakshi, but she escaped by making a hole through the top of its head (it's very dead). She's in very bad condition, though, and really needs Gallara's healing magic - but she's more concerned about Kolent.
#writingprompt #writingcommunity
She finally managed to lift her hips enough to sit on the edge, leaving her feet dangling into the hole. She wheezed with great effort, letting Jorang unwrap the severed tongue from around her body, and she spat several mouthfuls of blood. It was difficult to tell how much of the blood was hers. “Kolent’s hurt,” she said. “Alakshi, are you okay?” Although she was clearly favoring her own right arm, Gallara rushed to embrace her. She let go the instant Alakshi started screaming, however, which was very soon. “Crap! I’m so stupid! Here, hold still for a second!” Under the illumination of her light-globes, Gallara gently put her hands on the ribs protruding through Alakshi’s leather vest. After a moment, her ribs no longer showed, and Alakshi managed a deep, shaky breath. “How’s that?” Gallara asked her. Alakshi barely moved, but nodded. “Thanks.” The cuts on her arm and neck remained, and she still shook with pain with every breath. She coughed, gagged, and spat more blood. “Kolent’s hurt.”
November 14, 2025 at 6:47 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
CW: profanity and mention of sex
Grinks regales Taraltos with stories of her anti-duke missions, and shares her feelings about trekking through the woods.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
“… and then the axles on the garrison’s carriages all broke at the same time, just as they started chasing us! We were laughing so much we could barely run, but all of us got away clean!” Grinks laughed so hard at the memory that her backpack slipped halfway off. Taraltos laughed along with her, reaching down to lift it a little bit until she could adjust and fasten it again. “Thanks. Anyway, I heard that the duke lost about three weeks’ worth of military funds because of that job.” “You probably saved somebody from invasion that month,” Taraltos nodded with a smile. “Nice work.” “Thanks, I hope it helped somebody. Let’s see how lost we are now.” She opened the map again and scowled. “Ugh, the duke’s scouts can’t make a map for shit, but I think we’re headed in the right direction.” “If we are, we should get there in only four more days,” Taraltos smiled. “I know how much you’ve enjoyed the last three out here.” “I’m a city girl,” Grinks groaned. “All this camping and peeing in the bushes and watching out for quicksand is the worst. If you weren’t fucking me blind so often, I couldn’t stand it.” She heaved a sigh. “Anyway, the next time we snuck into -”
November 14, 2025 at 5:44 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#SFFChat
Seff's story begins humbly, but it gives an idea of the courage, determination, and sense of altruism that she's always had.
I had aching ribs and two impressive black eyes in the works when I first met Drohim. My parents had successfully sold a batch of spirits, so they’d sent me to the town market for groceries; on my way home, I happened on a few of the neighborhood bullies beating up Mibby, a girl about my age who was apprenticed to the local tailor. There were three of them and one of me, and I knew it all too well, but I stepped up and told them to leave her alone anyway. I’ll say this for hauling grain and stirring vats in a distillery: it doesn’t give you willow limbs. Also, bullies tend to back down if you won’t. By the end of that fight, my head and my guts hurt like the morning in winter, but I also had two of them running and the third pinned and crying bloody murder and promising to never mess with me or Mibby again. Once I’d let him up and sent him on his way, Mibby threw her arms around me, then helped me pick up the spilled food that I’d been carrying. She looked pretty rough from what they’d done to her before I’d gotten there, so I handed her what would have been my apple, then hurried for home. About a block later, I heard some guy say, “Excuse me, young miss.” No one had ever called me that before, so I knew something weird was going on. I was about to run - well, stagger - for home even faster, in case he was one of those child-grabbers my parents warned me about all the time, but I didn’t hear even an undertone of bad intentions in his voice. I slowed down and heard him ask, “What would you think of becoming my squire?”
November 14, 2025 at 12:38 AM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
From "The Wreck of the Lone Wolf," which I wrote a couple weeks ago. It's still a little rough, but I like the themes and I think they come through.

#WritingPrompt #WritingPrompts #Writingcommunity #writesky #poetry #seashanty
But caught upon a lucky wave One shipman reached the land But friendship made the lone man brave And he put out his hand He seized a beam of shattered wood A drowning man it bore He heaved it close to where he stood And pulled his mate to shore They looked into each other's eyes And heard their crewmen's plea And though they saw the ocean rise They both swam back to sea They fought the ocean for a hope And found a few mates more All tangled in a length of rope And hauled it back to shore Six men there were that stormy night Who fought to catch their breath The others called beyond their sight Each due a sailor's death They saw the safety they had earned And heard the ocean's roar But once again the six returned To bring their mates to shore A raft of flotsam from the breach Ten clinging to the wood One sailor never could have reached But six brave sailors could The crewmen swam out to the ten And soon they found a score A chain of arms, a chain of men Led each one back to shore They'd rescued only half their lot From ocean's spiteful cold But one just saved had seen those caught Inside the sinking hold They found the hull-breach blocked with freight As fast as any door The pouring water held its weight To keep their mates from shore They dived and then, with might and main All pushed from down below And with each muscle's heave and strain They fought against the flow They soon began to want for air And felt their backs grow sore But more than this the crew would dare To bring their mates to shore
November 13, 2025 at 7:59 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
A bizarre creature has joined Drohim and Seff at their campsite; despite Seff's fear, Drohim welcomed it peacefully, and it turned out to be uninterested in violence, but still scary. Seff appreciates Drohim's approach, but takes no chances.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
When we finally ate, the creature just stayed where it was, watching the fire and gurgling; Drohim offered it some meat, and it shifted its eyes up to him without raising its chin from the ground, then just looked back at the fire. When we finished eating, Drohim told it good night; what I did was go back to the little clutch of trees with a hatchet, and I came back with three times as much firewood as we’d started with. After I’d built the fire up, he and I both lay down on our respective trail mats inside the tent. It took me a lot longer than it took him, but I finally fell asleep, listening to the thing’s gurgling. And I got up to build up the fire again halfway through the night. When we woke up the next morning, the creature was gone. Once again, Drohim knew he didn’t have to say anything. After morning prayers, I broke camp and we mounted up on Valiance and Blue again. “We should reach Nysarra this afternoon,” he told me, and started riding. I was pretty sure I’d be just fine with being back in a city.
November 13, 2025 at 7:16 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#FantasyIndiesNovember
13. Where do you write?
The computer I do my writing on shares a room in my house with my video game consoles and my rowing machine.
November 13, 2025 at 5:51 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Prophecy #71: The MCs have just won a fight with a bunch of baelgs (subterranean sub-humanoids); Alakshi headbutted the last one to death. Gallara doesn't do well with violence and gore. The group isn't getting along, despite Jorang's efforts.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“Who is injured?” Jorang asked, partly to forestall any unnecessary arguing. He wiped the blood off his smooth head with his hand. More of it leaped off his sword with a flick of his wrist, and he slid the gleaming blade back into his armament belt. “I’m a little dizzy, but I’ll be okay.” Alakshi leaned slightly to one side as she stood, wiping blood from her eyes and looking over the remains of the battle. “So that’s baelgs, huh? They weren’t so bad.” Kolent had several ragged gashes on his arms and abdomen, but made no reply. Gallara picked up her sword and flicked a finger. The blood immediately fell from her face, clothes, and weapon. Then she took a deep breath and said, “I’m fine. I’m fine.” “My shirt needs a tailor,” Zedenko said, checking a cluster of cuts on his forearm and a graze on his neck, “and so do I.” “Hang on.” Gallara approached him with Prax nuzzling her face from her shoulder, and placed her hands over the bloody patches on Zedenko’s skin. Then, “How’s that?” He felt his mended flesh. “That’s better.” “You’re welcome,” Gallara said, and turned her back on him. “Anyone else?”
November 12, 2025 at 8:34 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#FantasyIndiesNovember
12. Good and bad writing advice

Good: write consistently, even if you have to push yourself sometimes
Bad: feel bad about yourself if you don't write
FantasyIndiesNovember 12. Good and bad writing advice
November 12, 2025 at 8:22 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
Seff, Drohim, and Rhugada keep walking through the torrential rain as fast as they can. The alternative is getting torn to shreds by the undead abomination that's chasing them.

#dailyocs #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts #writingprompt
That was when I heard the far-off screams of boglings in agony. Every one of us got moving again without another word. Even against the rain, I felt my body burning with fear and the need to move. Taking small steps and keeping my feet flat and close to the ground did not come easy while I was running for my life. Every detour around the growing ponds around us gnawed at me, every time my swamp shoes - or worse, someone else’s - got stuck in the mud for more than a second felt like Kevra’s bony fingers sinking into my flesh. Drohim’s face was a hardened mask of concentration and discipline as he moved as fast as he could without leaving me behind, and the way he wouldn’t stop looking behind us made every splash of our own feet sound like a horde of walking corpses charging us from behind. Rhugada kept walking deliberately and efficiently, sniffing the whole time, but their movements had a jolting quality that told me they wished they were moving faster; I wondered if our guide could smell their own fear, and if they would finally abandon us if Kevra caught up. Every so often they would pull a convenient vine low between two bushes or punch a group of holes in the mud with a stick and tell us to walk around it. I thought about throwing something from my backpack to the side to try to lead Kevra away, but our tracks were easy to recognize even with the rain, and I doubted she would have fallen for it; she wasn’t a great fighter, but she wasn’t stupid, either. And she didn’t need to be a great fighter. That was the problem.
November 11, 2025 at 7:04 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
In Prophecies #72, the MCs make dinner (and a pun) from the buffalosprey they recently defeated. Zedenko is preoccupied.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
They set camp for the night, and the dusk soon settled into solid darkness. Gallara harvested both the wings from the beast in the central room and roasted them over the fire with cayenne pepper seasoning, and there was more than enough to go around. Alakshi broke out the small keg and four cups she’d bought on their way out of Caldera, and they all enjoyed a pleasant little victory dinner together. Zedenko didn’t have much of an appetite, but he made himself eat while he had the chance, out of long habit.
November 11, 2025 at 6:42 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#FantasyIndiesNovember
11. What genres do you write and read?

I mostly write fantasy, but I also write porn, crime, brief family memoirs, and offbeat fairy tales.
I read fantasy, not-as-out-there science-fiction, horror, and realistic fiction; plus history, psychology, and religious studies books.
FantasyIndiesNovember 11. What genres do you write and read?
November 11, 2025 at 6:27 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Seff contemplates Drohim's expectation that she'll become a Blade of the Many like him. Her life would be full of conflict and hardship - but her fellow commoners' lives are already like that. Maybe they don't have to be.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt #WIP
I’d seen the kind of misery people went through, even in my own little town. One of my neighbors had lost her baby and barely been able to speak or move for over a month, and her family nearly killed her trying to perform their own exorcism because they couldn’t afford a priest to do it. When I was nine, our local weaver had a run of bad luck and maimed a competitor after accusing them of cursing her with hedge magic. No one ever found out if magic or demons were ever involved in either of those cases, but it was hard to deny it when a remarried widow disappeared on her second wedding night and was found dead in her first husband’s grave with his rotting arms around her. As a Blade I might be able to give those scared, confused people answers, and take on any real danger myself when needed. I could be the reason people were less scared. I liked that idea. That would be worth all the violence and fear and hardship of a Blade’s life, right?
November 10, 2025 at 4:43 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Alakshi and her ... fellow MCs ... are taken to a king's palace in a foreign city-state. It's been a long day, especially for Alakshi, and she's getting impatient with everyone's bullshit.

#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #writingprompt
After a while, Feldo dismounted and hurried them off their horses and into another building, except that this one was a lot bigger and looked all fancy-schmancy-mating-dancey. The inside of it had that same stuffy half light as the guards’ place, but Alakshi could still see plenty of expensive-looking stuff in the hallways. Zedenko kept staring at the pictures of people’s faces made of patterns of jewels that were set right into the walls, and Gallara kept almost stopping at all the vases full of flowers.
November 9, 2025 at 4:43 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
If there's one thing Gallara knows, it's botany - even when it gets nasty. The MCs have an extremely dangerous enemy, and she needs all the help she can think of.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #writingprompt
Gallara asked everyone to sit back from the fire, then started crunching up herbs and roots from her jars into a little metal bowl on the fire with some water; after it boiled, she skimmed off the top layer of muck with a big leaf and threw out the rest, then put the top layer back in the bowl. Leaning back, she added more stuff to it, spread it around in the bowl, and simmered it down into a few ounces of nasty-smelling paste. “What *is* that?” Zedenko asked, trying to sound casual. “Don’t get too close,” Gallara answered; it sounded like she was trying not to inhale. “It’s ground apricot pits, those primary castor beans I mentioned before, datura, jaderoot, two kinds of hemlock, broad-leaf garroteweed, and groobak mushrooms, with keckle thorn to keep the toxins from breaking down and pikeman’s hickory resin to bind it all.”
November 8, 2025 at 9:51 PM
verosthewriter.bsky.social
#NovemberWorldbuilders
In Prophecy #72, Zedenko's command of ancient languages is put to the test as he translates an illustrated inscription in an abandoned mausoleum, which tells the story of a great villain and the heroes who defeated him.

#writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts
“*Blod*- probably ‘Blodthrak,’” he read out loud. “*Blodthrak arose in* - Well, it’s a numerical date. I dunno, a long time ago. *He created a rod of power* – maybe it’s ‘strength,’ but it’s probably ‘power’ – that became his hand in conquest. *The Master of Beasts* … uh, did something with *animals in* … I think that’s something like *defiance of Tallora. Thus he conquered* … those are just place names, I’m pretty sure.” He mentally wiped his brow and looked at the second mural. “*Four heroes of* – um, ‘virtue,’ I think, maybe ‘valor’? – *arose against the Lord of Fangs and … beat the shit out of him*.” He read it again to make sure he’d gotten it right, then shook his head. “Just lovely.”
November 8, 2025 at 9:43 PM