3iguy, The Wordsmith

Member Since


Last Activity

1/25/2020 6:03 PM

EXP Points


Post Count


Storygame Count


Duel Stats

7 wins / 3 losses


Sage of Avon



I'm on this site primarily to read stories. Every once and awhile I may spend time on a story or little writing exercise.

Trophies Earned

Earning 100 Points


The Dead Love

The spectral son of a local shopkeeper wants to hug his mommy once again.

The Feathers of the Phoenix Star

Recent Posts

Spellcheck on 1/18/2020 6:19:18 PM
Most people write their stories somewhere else and copy paste them onto the site when they're done from what I've heard.

FIREBIRDS N SHIT: THE STORY on 1/16/2020 3:45:25 PM
The Black Mist was receding, just like it did every day at dawn. The grand bird returned as the massive cluster of clouds dispersed--probably instantly reforming at some other part of the world--the wings of the phoenix blessed the morning with golden light. You stand, holding a pestle and mortar in front of a window. You crush the ingredients, casting an incantation of divination. Your world turns blue as your eyes are engulfed in a cerulean mist. Theoretically, this should protect you from long term damage coming off the sunlight. Twisting your torso to the right, you sprinkle the fine powder into the solution beside you. Great, now all you have to do was gaze. You clutch at the power radiating off of the creature and feel the ecstatic sensation of being removed from your body. “Glorious Phoenix Star, my Supplier; my Guide; my Light, I ask you to connect me to my servants,” the elf spoke. That is it. Nothing more, nothing less. LUX didn’t demand large offerings or anything. He was always crisp. You return, stirring your tea and letting out a sigh. Tea isn’t your thing but it was the most potent way of accessing the bizarre power of the magika leaf. It was simple to grind into a powder, but getting it down is a challenge. Swallowing the bitter liquid, you look upwards at the firebird overhead; visions swirl in its fiery trail across the sky. As you study the bird, knowledge floods into your mind. “They are dead,” you mutter.. “All of them are dead!” The cerulean mist around your eyes diffuse, leaving your vision blurry and burning. The Phoenix' consuming shriek began to shriek into your ears. Your eyes fluttered shut. Your yellow arms swoop upwards, alternating between rubbing your eyes and covering your pointed ears. Neither worked, nothing except time wouldn’t silence the noise or return your vision. All magic had some type of cost. Whether it was short-term or longer-term, depended upon the method. “I have to inform the Lord while I still can!” you hollered, stumbling stumbled. You kick the table at your side.. Magical tools soar through the air crashing into the floor. Some of them shatter into tiny pieces. The chaos smashes your magic mirror--a gift from your liege. Dust floated in the air, showering down upon everything. You stagger from the impact, but find balance, steadying yourself against the wall with your metal left hand. You’ve always been mediocre in divination. Your body never conquered the after effects of the art. With senses dulled, you are useless to his liege. For you, this was an unacceptable method of serving your liege. It just ends in more harm than good. You are aware of this fact, but you still did it. Why? Oh, right, because you were afraid of using more direct methods. Dust covering your robes, you shamble out of your quarters and dart down the first corridor you feel for. Your eyesight releases pain from pain’s grip just a little bit, mildly returning. Runic sigils light this passage blue. Each sign is its own separate design, and they’re engraved onto the walls and ceiling. Some of these engravings are even yours. You plant your left hand on a wall; your sense of touch was unaffected and you need to feel your way around anyway. As you do so, the sensation of magic pulsating passed your metallic palm becomes evident. It reacts to your presence! A powerful rhythm beckons you to tap into its power. You feel yourself siphoning, but before long the power rejects you. The azure rune falls dark, casting a shadow throughout the room. He had never encountered anything like this. These runes had always been here--mostly for defensive, utility, and stealth purposes that kept the castle underground and difficult to locate-- they were not serving this function any longer. You even designed some of the runes yourself. There was only one location that that magic was leading to: the throne room. Lord Stone was channeling some type of energy! You press on. Whatever the purpose of that beacon was, you could feel its desire to be used. You cast two minor cantrips: a spell of perception, which will restore some of your hearing; and a minor haste spell, which quickens your pace. In your near-blinded state, such a sensation was a life saver. Now you have a trail to follow. You swivel around a corner, finding yourself in front of a set of massive oak doors. You can make out a pair of revenants guarding the doors. Iron and magic reinforced the entrance to the royal chambers. A pleasant thought passes through your mind. You are quite close to Lord Stone! Revenants stood beside doors; they were suited in full plate armor, spears rested in their hands. Your heart sends fire through your veins, adrenaline overcoming your sense of decency. Breaking into a sprint, you erupt with neurotic energy, gunning for entry into the Lord’s court! The guards slammed their spears onto the stone floor, before crossing them into an ‘x’. Your right shoulder slams into one of the revenants, sending it stumbling into the armored door. You crash into the ground, pain pulsing through your body. “Court Mage,” the other revenant nabbed lifts you to your feet, clutching you in her hands with surprising tenderness. “What is the meaning of this?” Her voice was gravel. You know this one, although you don’t remember her name. You open your mouth to speak, but you’re interrupted when the other revenant rises from the ground. “--and why are you indecent?” the other one wondered. His helmet must have fallen off. You recognized this one. He was a handsome man with chin-length hair and a strong jawline. If you didn’t know better, it’d be a tough job identifying him as undead. His name was Leon, you think. Here you were in stained and dusty robes--which were somehow torn--trying to reach the lord of the castle! You must look like a madman. “It’s an emergency! There’s an imminent threat to the castle!” you throw out a plethora of frantic gestures in an effort to communicate the seriousness of the situation. “I swear on LUX’s name, that this is serious!” Leon’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but other than that, the two undead didn’t respond. After all, the undead did not worship LUX. They let you in, with reluctance. Simply opening the doors sends a cascade of warm magic flooding through you, restoring your vision and the rest of your hearing, but he was still a wreck. You witness a seemingly-boundless multitude of shining runes dancing around the room, illuminating the room with blue light. Atop the throne, was Lord Stone. He was a tall brute of an orc, his gray head reached six foot while still sitting, and his eyes were closed. His facial features were beset with wrinkles; His teeth were sharp, pointed things, with curved canines that jutted out of his mouth; he was balding. The runes began swirling around the throne in an azure vortex of pure energy, consolidating as one big wall of magic, wrapping around the orc and permeating him.

FIREBIRDS N SHIT: THE STORY on 1/16/2020 3:44:28 PM
So I've been slowly working on a what I hope will turn into a large story... I haven't figured out the finer details of the plot or characters yet, but I've built a cool world going. I really like the scene I'm working on too, which I'll post in a reply to this post. Despite the name of this thread, I actually really take this seriously and want to put out something go. I'm a very slow, but I'm writing everyday.

Spellcheck on 1/16/2020 9:21:01 AM
The RTE is broken.

MRROOOW! *hiss* *spit* on 1/15/2020 9:04:26 PM
I'm just noting for the sake of CYS history that a bunch of new writers with talent have joined. Shadow, Cameleon, Ninja, and Gower are examples.

CYS Mentor Program - (Beta) on 1/11/2020 9:00:55 PM
I'd love to be a student/mentee. I think this is a really good idea and I'm looking forward to this!

Guess Who’s Banned? on 1/1/2020 2:53:12 PM

A simpleton travels light
to the Necromancer's delight.
With his scythe he slices through
who's corpse does he leave icy blue?

Noob Census - Earn pointless points! on 12/7/2019 9:13:57 PM


Noob Census - Earn pointless points! on 12/7/2019 1:56:05 PM


Ectocomp 2019 on 10/16/2019 7:56:18 AM

I've registered and I have a rough idea for a story.