Posted By malikjoker on February 1, 2012

“The deserts of Osirion can be a harsh place Mr. Wade.  The lack of humidity, the heat, it can seem like the nine hells to some,” Armen D’Ar-iz said.

The leader of the Sothis Pathfinder lodge seemed completely at ease as he and the Taldan foreigner crossed the vast Garundi desert. The pair had traveled through the desert for three days stopping only to eat and sleep.  Tar Quartar wasn’t close to Sothis. The camp of nomads Armen D’Ar-iz had spoke of did not settle in one place for long, making them difficult to locate. (more…)

Category: Announcements, From Oppara with Love, Purvis Wade Stories | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on September 16, 2011

Category: Pathfinder Chronicler Anthology, Volume II Cover | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on September 16, 2011

We at Pathfinder Chronicler tip our hats to this year’s Top 10 of 2011. May you take from this contest more than you brought to us and be an inspiration for all budding writers.

1). Gozreh Provides by Laura Bowlby
2). Bend as the Willow by Dawn Fischer
3). The Politics of Hell by B.R. Bearden
4). The Gray Tern by Andrew Crossett
5). Luck’s Allegiance by Alex Lindsay
6). Completing the Circle by Todd Stewart
7). Monsters in the Attic by Martin Shelby
8). The Way of the World by Kalyna Conrad
9). Existence by David Wood
10). Bound to Shadows by Christopher Astenfanous

A hearty applaud to Ryan Costello Jr. and Ernesto Ramirez for working so hard to deliver a great contest, and keeping it on schedule despite the hardship from the crunches.

Special Thanks to Jess Zyblicki and Robert Gresham for supporting contestants in our closed writer forums. Most of all, a big thanks to the Paizo Community for delivering components to a gorgeous book for next PaizoCon 2012!

Category: Judge's Choice Top 10 | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 30, 2011

          The sky was grey and cold in the early light of dawn as Drezi began his morning hunt. His golden eyes darted from rock to rock; he had to be careful to retain his footing. The recent storms that had spun from the Eye of Abendego had been fierce and heaps of slippery black kelp lay strewn about the shore, ready to snare his ankles. But, these same storms had also produced his prey – an influx of crippled ships – and the prevailing winds had forced large chunks of debris further inland than was normal.

         Perhaps this will be my lucky day? thought the young Bonuwati, deftly picking his way along the rocky crevices, as he eyed several hulking remains impaled on the distant crags. Usually, sizable wrecks would have been long picked over by salvage vessels before they ever came within sight of land, however the continuing gusts and large waves made sailing dangerous. Only a desperate fool would try to navigate the shoals in this weather. (more…)

Category: Gozreh Provides, Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Final Six, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10, Short Story | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 29, 2011

Mother said first impressions are crucial.

She waited, motionless. Her knees dug into the hard marble floor but she must show no discomfort. She must not move at all. Her body was bent over her knees, her legs tucked underneath, and her face planted on the floor as if kissing it. Her arms were splayed wide, the billowing gauzy sleeves looking almost like the lacey wings of a dragonfly.

Must not move …

“I, I, I … I ah assure you, Lord Chancellor, she is a virgin in every sense,” the voice above and behind her trembled.

A deep voice responded. “And I have your assurance, Jarmin? You’ve personally verified this?”

Quiet, rich, hypnotic.

She heard the other stammer. “I … well …”

She waited… (more…)

Category: Bend as the Willow, Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Final Six, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10, Short Story | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 28, 2011

“Revel Hasting.” The young man stood as his name was called. Of all the folk waiting in the Summoned Hall of the House of Inquisition, he alone showed no sign of the fear the place evoked.  In appearance he was unlike any of the nervous men and women waiting to be summoned before a Protectorate to answer for some misdeed of faith. Though he shared the light skin, sharp features, and raven black hair of a typical Chelaxian, his wore not the deliberate humble and honest attire of a merchant or tradesman, but rather gray trousers and shirt and a dark gray cloak, as if bound for the opera.

The man who had called his name, somber in black robes, turned and led the way down the hall. Revel followed, his soft boots sounding a muffled contrast to the sharp click of the official’s polished boots on the red and black Arcadian marble.  (more…)

Category: Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Final Six, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10, Short Story, The Politics of Hell | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 27, 2011

They say that the human slaves get restless and more prone to rebellion and violence during the months of Longer Light, when spring begins to arrive in most of the northern lands.

It’s strange, because spring has not actually arrived in Irrisen for nearly fourteen centuries¾not since my fearsome ancestor, Grandmother Yaga, swept in with might and magic and took the land for herself and her daughters. Still, something deep inside these slaves, and perhaps even in the land itself, yearns for the warmth and the green that comes to other places at this time of year.

It was during those troublesome days that I most often found myself with work to do, and coin to earn. (more…)

Category: Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Final Six, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10, Short Story, The Gray Tern | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 26, 2011

“Bartemis Quin?” He placed his hand on my shoulder.

            “Pardon?” I asked.

The swarthy young man stood confidently, his grip strong, yet controlled. He smiled as he sized me up from barstool to curly top. “Bartemis Quin.” He said again, this time not a question. Seating himself next to me at the bar, he carefully avoided my personal puddle created from my sopping clothes, and showed me a bounty poster. “This is you. Is it not?” (more…)

Category: Luck's Allegiance, Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Final Six, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10, Short Story | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 25, 2011

“A true supplicant would welcome the pain with an exultant scream.”

The priest’s voice was strict and measured, reverential to his unholy sacrament yet subtly mocking. He looked sternly at the woman who was hooded and bound to the iron wheel suspended in the chapel’s center.

“A true supplicant would welcome the chance that you have tonight, child.”

The bound subject of the congregation’s morbid delight shivered as she tried to react in the way that they expected, as someone wanting, no, –needing- masochistic release at the hands of her captors. Yet she knew she could not provide them the spectacle they required, the broken submission of a faithful worshipper of Zon-Kuthon. They would brutalize her without mercy. They would find their worship through her torment, but they would inevitably find something else at her core. And then the spectacle would be interrogation and sacrifice rather than ecstatic elevation. (more…)

Category: Completing the Circle, Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Final Six, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10 | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 24, 2011

            Brother and Sister sat, and Sister ran a finger down the length of the ebon wand, caressing the wood. The entry door smoldered and another piece of its splintered framework fell to the ground as they watched. Outside, the lifeblood of the guard ebbed into the greedy ground from numerous lacerations and the bloody stump of his neck. His head had bounced some ways and lay tilted on the cobbled street, wide-eyed and starring at the sky.

            Sister gave a contemptuous smile. “That should give them some second thoughts.”

            “Why must you always be so, my Sister?” Brother asked. Brother felt old as world’s creation, and the winnowing of time and their journey had taken its toll upon him. Not so his twin sister. She only seemed to gain momentum, as if time were siphoning what had once been Brother’s and now filled her with power. For there had been a time, when they were yet young, that he had been stronger than she. Now she had grown so willful, and Brother no longer had the strength to fight her. (more…)

Category: Monsters in the Attic, Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10 | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 23, 2011

Iusin was nervous and that confused her.  After all, this wasn’t exactly her first late-night encounter with one of her father’s male guests in this secluded corner of the Cat’s Corpse’s back garden.

She held her breath as she watched the man emerge from the inn’s back door and move towards her, ducking the low-hanging tree branches that seemed to reach their skeletal fingers towards him, as though yearning to shred his perfect bronze skin to tatters.  

He stopped a breath away from her, studying her with unfathomable green eyes that practically glowed in the moonlight.  He was so strong… so beautiful… so wonderfully foreign.  She shivered.  Beneath his rich Taldan travelling costume she could sense something strange; something thrilling and slightly… dangerous. (more…)

Category: Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10, Short Story, The Way of the World | Comments Off
Tags:

Posted By admin on August 22, 2011

But Mama,” I remembered saying, “She doesn’t want this.”

“Shush.” She said. She stood on my left. Father stood quietly to my right. “This is important.”

“But-”

My father rested his calloused hand on my right shoulder and dug his thumb into the joint. I winced and looked up at him. “Quiet, boy.” He whispered, not looking down. “We know what’s best- not you.”

I nodded meekly and returned my attention to the ceremony. The priests, in their robes of grey and red, marched around the table my sister’s body lay upon, swinging censers of smoldering herbs that made my nose wrinkle with their odors. The body had to be made ready for her Transition, and it was not a short service to do so; prayers were said, portents were considered, and the purifications had to be strictly adhered to. (more…)

Category: Existence, Pathfinder Fiction Contest 2011, PF Contest 2011 Round 2 Top 10, Short Story | Comments Off
Tags: