Keith Edward English, Wordsmith

“We’re between jobs, low on gold, ain’t got shit to eat or drink, and you’re going out to dinner?” Darsil’eit growled at Gax. She stood with one hand on her hip and one eyebrow arched. Her olive skin glistened from the humidity of the air in their tight quarters.

Gax ignored her for a moment, smoothing the wrinkles from his roughspun cotton shirt, which clung tightly to his muscular frame. It was his nicest shirt. Well, one of his only shirts, actually. He left his torso naked more often than not, save for when the seasons shifted and would have frozen the orc blood in his veins if not for layers of clothing and pelts. “We aren’t that low on coin…”

“We’re sharing a damn room in the shittiest inn this side of the mountains!” Dar shouted, her eyes wide and alive with fire and fury, her arms splayed wide to encompass the cramped box that barely managed a single cot.  Continue reading “Hold my Battleaxe 6 – Gax goes on a Date” →

“Hold my battleaxe, Dar,” Gax requested, handing the massive weapon to the elf before she had a chance to respond. Darsil’eit snatched the axe from Gax’s outstretched hand with both of her arms, her bow now leaning against a nearby tree.

“What are you about?” she asked suspiciously as he strode forward.

Gax slowly shifted his feet through the watery mud beneath him, brushing past low hanging willow branches. The swamp he trudged through sat bathed in the soft glow of dusk, motes of dust and small insects flitting fancifully past the rare shaft of intense orange light that pierced the thick veil from the many trees and tall ferns.

“The traps you set are sound, yeah?” he asked, not breaking stride. “They’ll capture an ergun well?”

“Three if they’re spread out,” she said with an air of superiority.

“Good. I figure it’s my neck we should stick out here, not yours. Axe will slow me down getting back behind the traps.”

“Well, seeing as how, thanks to your stupidity, we’ve been tasked with capturing creatures dangerous enough to rip either of our faces off, I’d be inclined to agree. Carry on. Long as Obrel gets his ergun, I’ll be happy.” Continue reading “Hold my Battleaxe 5 – Gax tries to capture an ergun, and doesn’t do so well” →

Gax parried a weak sword strike with his massive axe, burst forward, then slammed his fist into the human’s face. Bones crunched. The merchant flopped to the rocky ground, a limp heap. He brought his axe up over his head and set his feet apart.

“Gax!” shouted a familiar voice. “No killing!”

He rolled his eyes and spun around to face Darsil’eit, his elf companion, his arms going slack.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he argued, kicking backward and striking the unconscious human with his heel. Continue reading “Hold my Battleaxe 4 – Gax makes an eagle angry trying to score hallucinogens” →

A mighty laugh spilled from Gax, issuing between his large orc teeth, some of which were sharpened, drowning out the laments of several humans. He reached across the bar table, his rickety stool wobbling threateningly beneath him, and raked a small pile of copper ovals toward his person. The other players begrudgingly shoved their dice back into their cups and began shaking them.

Gax snatched his ale and drained it in a mighty gulp, a bit spilling from the corner of his grinning mouth. He slammed it back down and looked triumphantly at the others. Continue reading “Hold my Battleaxe 3 – Gax wins a grappling match by knocking himself out” →

Gax and Darsil’eit traveled the snow-clad streets of Durthlem warily. The particular avenue they traversed sloped downward ever so slightly, making the going even more treacherous. Once already, Gax’s feet had slid out from under him and he’d crashed down onto his back to slide a dozen feet down the icy thoroughfare.

“Ya know, you didn’t need to bite a chunk out of Beshyn’s ear,” Dar said, picking at her long fingernails with a knife. “He would’ve talked with a few mugs of ale in him.”

Gax looked sidelong at his elf companion. “And a run with you in his bedroll! He said as much!”

“He hinted as much, you dumb idiot. Now we’ll have to keep our eyes out for him and his friends trying to get even.” Continue reading “Hold my Battleaxe 2 – Gax runs into a horse, and earns some ale” →

As I come to the end of Revival of Fire (Ruination 3) I’m getting super amped to sit down and finish the damn thing. Life, however, keeps telling me to hold on. Can’t I just not work for like a week to devote ALL of my free time to writing!?

Still, this past week made for some good writing, some of which is below.

Things that might go well together but probably won’t:

The Punisher working as a high school conflict mediation counselor Continue reading “The Punisher and High School, Characters of The Source, One-Liners, Keebler, Vesik’s Daughter, Hold my Battle Axe” →

So, I started a brand new chapter of life this week. My work schedule (and the rest of life) changed quite a bit. I got out of the martial arts business to spend more time with my family, and good thing too seeing as how I’m going to a daddy next July! With all the changes, I built in time to focus on spreading the word about my words. So, here’s this week’s recap from various social media things.

Continue reading “MTG in Real Life; Arm and Hammer; The Boys Drink; The Evil Within; The Source” →

“No, we certainly cannot! If we do, what the hell will our readers read?”

     Conflict drives so many elements of your story, and this is why it’s important to be exceptional at developing it in your characters and plot. Conflict takes your characters, those beloved people you’ve taken so much time to get to know, then molds them into something new. You, meanwhile, are along for the ride as they are shaped. So make sure you have a good handle on how to create dynamic and interesting conflict in your novels. Continue reading “An Article on Developing Conflict in Fiction, for Writers” →

The oddity of this world continued to baffle Phalax, enough so that he forgot to keep his blood boiling. Had he forgotten his purpose for life? Without revenge, what else did he have? If this didn’t drive him then what did, if anything did at all?

For the third time, Phalax nearly walked into the broad side of a building while watching a dead person stroll down the street in the same direction as he was moving.

Daeson slapped his shoulder and said, “Losing your focus just a little bit?”  Continue reading “A Snippet of Game of Gods: Everyone Dies, then Follows the Road of Corpses” →