So you ended up where no one ever wants to be. The Netherworld. The Infernal Regions. The Inferno. The Abyss. The Lower World. The Great Pit. Abbadon. Perdition. Tophet. The Abode of the Damned. Eternal Damnation. If you haven't gotten it yet, let me spell it out for you. You're in Hell. You are supposed to spend all of eternity here "atoning" for your sins.

 Yet again... what did you do exactly to deserve this? Could you get out?

 Most of the descriptive information used in this story is from the Divine Comedy. While not actually a "canon" part of the Christian faith, much of what is contained in the epic is used by modern Christians when picturing Hell. For example, this is where the idea that Hell has 9 layers comes from. I also had to make some changes for the sake of the story.

 Submission for Endmaster's Myth and Religion Contest

This is a quiz BTW.

 As a young hunter of the Koyotep tribe, you set out to prove yourself to your community. You'll have to navigate the complexities of your tribe's culture, beliefs and way of life, as well as the harsh conditions of the natural environment. Will you rise to the challenge and become a hero, or will you fail and be left behind?

  While the tribe, characters, and events in the story are fictional, they are loosely based off of real tribes from around 800 B.C.E in Siberia, Russia. This story had a lot of missed potential that I did not have the time to include. I might revisit it someday.

 Submission for EndMaster's Prompt Contest 2 

Prompt: A story set in the ancient world. This means anytime before the fall of the Roman Empire. And yes, if you don't want to strictly be historical, you can fill it with Atlantean technology or whatever.

You are a young man from Norway at the end of the Viking age. What will you do?

 for Endmaster's Prompt Contest 3

This is strictly for bodystealing purposes. If I enter a contest and ever have to grind out a pile of shit in less than a day I can use this.

You are a young man from Norway near the end of the Viking age. What will you do?

Now with religious choices, side characters, and more detailed pathways!

This is an updated version of the story I submitted for Endmaster's Prompt Contest.

AR points?

You ended up predicting my future by drawing the burger like that lol. I'm going to have to take the double SHAME.

Here's the link

Locked.

yes

This is definitely a place I would have posted in 2015. I hate the thought of 10 year old me searching the internet for 2015 Warrior Cat fan-fiction. Thank god I had such limited internet access at that point.

 The dark pit outside of CYStia remains largely unchanged by the magic transformation happening around it. The grass surrounding it is still blackened and wilted. The many danger signs and final warnings creak in the slight wind. The mouth of the pit remains as pitch-black as ever, concealing all that lies inside but the stench that constantly wafts from it.

 The inside of the pit is not much better than the outside. The stench is much stronger the farther you go, a warning and a promise to those that dare venture any deeper. The first flat ledge of the pit is covered in bodies of disgusting noobs and fallen heroes. All were either too foolish to read the many warning signs, or thrown into the pit for failure to meet even the most minimum standards of their contests. Some of the bodies simply seem to be sleeping, though others are definitely dead. Maggots and flies buzz and wiggle through the surplus of food.

 Yummyfood looks forlornly upwards at the unseen sky. It seems as though the pit is eternally dark, never showing a glimpse of the outside world to the undeserving. His feet swing at the edge of the first ledge, having crawled his way there after being thrown in. He pulls out an old letter he had found near a decrepit dumbwaiter, the rope upward cut or severed long ago. It is far too difficult to read in the darkness, so he balls it up and throws it into the dark void below. 

 Suddenly he is blinded by bright light. His eyes adjust slowly and he sees a sight so beautiful, he sheds a few tears.A glittering rope seems to be hanging tauntingly in front of him over the edge of the ledge he sits on. If he grabs the rope, it could possibly bring him salvation. If he fails to grab it, He could fall deeper into the pit. 

 Yummyfood doesn't hesitate for another second, swinging himself off the edge so that he could grab the rope. He grips the ledge with one hand and the rope with the other. Only time will tell if he made a good decision or a dumb one.

An old man appears shorty after the dragon leaves. He looks around at the broken buildings, dead creatures, and general mess the crowd has been making the last couple of weeks. He shakes his head slightly before banging his mop and bucket together a few times to get everyone's attention. The crowd slowly quiets down for him to speak.

"Thank you. I do hate raising my voice. I am in need of a new tool. I work as a janitor for fancy folk around the country, you see. They tend to have quite a habit of leaving their large attics and basements unused. Then they hire me to deep clean and there are always large nasty vermin I have to clear out. I would like something to help me with this. Anything will do really, I'm not very picky."

survey complete

The Woodsman walked back into the wilderness, knowing he must craft something. The idea he had would take a while to accomplish.

 He first ventured far to the south, deep into the rainforests. He was looking for a specific materal that could only be found there. The journey was difficult. The bugs were relentless, always biting and stinging, getting into his ears and nose and mouth. The natives were not happy with his presence either. The savages attepted to ambush him multiple times. They got close to suceeding on one occasion. He recieved a scar on his face to remind him of his weakness. 

 After several days, The cloaked woodsman finally made it to the heart of the jungle. He collected the material he needed. He spent a day crafting the weapon, taking special care carving ancient runes on its surface. When he finished, his creation glowed with sinister power. The power attracted some unwanted attention.

 The dragon decended quickly, used to killing its prey without much trouble. The man narrowly dodged the attack and decided to use his new weapon. He threw it, the deadly object seeming to find its target by its own will. It aimed well. The dragon roared in pain, a pain so gerat that no human or otherwise had ever inflicted on a dragon before. It curled up in a ball, and the man finished it off without an issue.

 It took several days of walking and native slaughtering to get back to town, where he pushed through the crowd to present his gift to the dragon.

"Apologies for the wait mighty dragon. I was delayed for a bit. I present you with my creation, the Undead/Balsa Wood/Chakram/Which once sliced a dragon's cockles, with its long and shiny blade! It may not be the flashiest of objects for your hoard, but you do have a new undead slave force led by a Dragon Eunuch waiting outside.

prefix, material, item, suffix