Contributing Writers

We depend on our team of excellent writers to set our products apart from the crowd. While our core crew is steeped in fantasy tradition, we like to hire outsiders who are untainted by the genre to add a fresh approach or an extra dimension to our text. It's often hard to tell who wrote what in our books, and it's the job of the editor to obfuscate that at much as possible in order to create a seamless reading experience. However, a few passeages tend to stand out above the rest, so I'd like to help shine a little light onto our hardworking stars.

We don't make anyone sign any non-competition clauses or anything like that, so if you want to hire anyone on our team for something, drop us a line, and we will introduce you.
Jeff Welker - Freelance Writer
Strengths: Historical Accuracy, Antiquated Words, Elegance
Appears in: Oathbound Eclipse, The Haunted Fort

"I have heard other soldiers wounded in battle say that they blacked out subsequent to their injury. But this was not the case with me. I struggled even onto my back, my body wracked with pain; I could feel the bone of my collar exposed to the elements. Blood was pooling beneath my shoulder, sticky wet and cooling quickly against the soggy earth. I knew not to close my eyes, to fight and struggle to remain awake until the field ambulance came forth. I do not know how long I lay staring up at the slate sky. I could hear the rage of battle all about me, hear my comrades falling nearby screaming in pain or in bloodlust. I felt my weakness grow by the second. I tried to lift my head to look about me, but the shock of pain that tore through me made me gasp aloud. So, I waited."

"To be frank, I don’t mind telling you that I have found myself in some vile hovels of alleged commerce in my time, but this dimly-lit horror nearly took the prize. For all the jimjaw he’d given me earlier, I’d half-expected to find the Crown Jewels hidden behind that ratty silk curtain. The storeroom was small, smaller than I would have guessed from the outside of it, and near every span of it was cluttered and overwhelmed by products of dubious lineage and provenance: blocks of pressed spices from the east, rare (at least for these parts) leaves and seeds to be ground for spurious cures, animal skins, and barrels of pungent liquid lay ramshackle with bolts of gaudy fabrics, bales of woolens, jars containing bird talons, infant fingers, assorted genitalia, and the teeth of some unknown creatures. Along a shelf on the near-hand wall, vials filled with dirt stood, labeled with the exotic, foreign, or forgotten names of places."
Anne Harris - Freelance Writer
Strengths: Deviant Glee, Pitch-perfect Grammar, Attention to Detail
Appears in: Oathbound Eclipse

"That night, as Snive and I glided toward our meeting place, I saw at the top of a fir a large raven. Silhouetted against the sky, he drew my eye to him. As I watched from the sled, he took wing and flew toward us. I stopped Snive’s progress to watch the raven. The bird’s flight was so quiet he seemed to absorb sound rather than create it. He flew lower. I leapt from the sled and threw my arms around Snive’s body, pushing my face into his black fur. The raven lit gently on Snive’s head. The last sensation I had of my homeland Ranachus was this: There was no difference in color between the raven’s feathers, Snive’s fur and my hair. The night disappeared and I was no longer aware of my body, except that for a moment it was colder and brighter than I ever remembered."

"My jaw fell, and you knocked me to the rug, stepping on my throat with your hind paw. “Be still, Johnan,” you spoke from above, devouring me with your now-red eyes, “and you will be transfigured.” It was the first moment of terror in the most terror-filled hours of my five thousand years. You were on top of me with your teeth in my neck. In and out of consciousness, I heard Jameera’s screams. When I came to, Jameera lay still next to me with her foreleg across my body. Your fur was dull and pale then. With a weak grin, you growled, “Her heart beats only for you.” You leaned over to nick her throat with a claw and smeared her blood across my lips. With that taste, I first recognized the new thirst. Though I wanted to stop more than anything, I could not help myself. Sinking my teeth into her as you had done to me, I drained her to her death. Oh, Jameera, my love."
Darrin Drader - Freelance Writer
Strengths: Versatility, Prolificity, Attitude
Appears in: Oathbound Eclipse, Oathbound Plains of Penance (adventure), Oathbound Wrack and Ruin, Oathbound Wildwood

"The ordinary people of Eclipse are like the people anywhere else one might travel. Children like to run barefoot over the moss-covered landscape, fishers throw their lines and their nets into the water in hopes of bringing home dinner for their families (as well as a little extra for the market), mystics heal the sick while the undertakers bury the dead. The lives of the people in the outlying areas are simpler than those of the cities, and yet each town has its own distinctly different culture and flavor. While the social elite of Baradume may dismiss these places as “quaint” or irrelevant, they provide much of the lifeline that allows people to survive here. I am always amazed at the hubris of “civilized” folk who do not seem to understand that if the small trade cities and the pastoral elements of the Cauldron were eliminated, their city would wither away and starve. There is little point in trying to argue with them though; they typically repay my insight with a scoff and then return to their art or their books."
Todd Morasch - Staff Writer/Artist
Strengths: Characters, Dialog, Raw Ideas
Appears in: Oathbound Eclipse, Sara and the Chimera, Oathbound Domains of the Forge

"The smells of sulfur and ginger-tree bread mixed with dust and candy rain filled Rithrial’s senses as he breathed deep the air of his realm. Below and above him on the endless tiers of his inverted cylinder city, the hustle and bustle of life happening echoed forth. He had read of other cities that never slept, but this was particularly true of Haven. The great shaft, as some called it, had neither day nor night, and in fact stretched so high and so low that there was no known sky or bottom. The city’s wild and disparate residents lived by the lights of their lamps, their candle bugs, and the dancing brilliance of the micro-stars that whirled, never ceasing, up and down the center of the rotunda. Beings that required sleep took it in the many homes and caves set into the wall of the shaft, built floor to roof to cavern maw, one on top of the other. Out from these dwellings sprang a mad web of ramps, bridges, and ladders, serving to tie the city all together. Which way was up and which was down in Haven was all a matter of one’s point of view, as gravity seemed to pull in whichever way it cared to or that someone thought it should. In many places walkways were used from both the top and bottom, and in others, stairs simply changed direction and angle midway, not seeming to concern themselves with unfriendly concepts like physics."

"Here I met a little old woman who had been in the antechamber for forty years waiting for the Queen to call her. Also present was a vampire who was well on his way to being insane and who was sure he had been waiting for over two hundred years—and by the state of his clothes I did not doubt it. I met many who could not even remember why they were there, and in some of the rooms I stumbled upon rotten corpses. Some had taken to believing that this was the only world there was and that their lives beyond the walls of this waiting area had been no more than a dream. I considered the age of the creature I was courting, and wondered if she even considered the passing of time in the same way as those trapped in this antechamber. Perhaps a century fell away for her like a heartbeat to normal mortals. Every eight hours or so, I would journey to the lobby of this area and wait for the Queen to call me. Often I was joined by several others. Always the old woman was there, and she would spend her time walking from person to person, gaining assurances that if they were called they would remind the Queen she was still waiting. I saw that many wished to do away with her, but strict rules against harming another petitioner prevented them. Each time the little old woman came to me, I would tell her that I would consider letting the Queen know. She would press for greater assurance, but I would give her none. In the end I waited almost two weeks, to the point that even a being as old as me wondered if I would have to attempt some mad escape rather than rot for eternity."
Greg Dent - Head Writer/Editor
Strengths: Game Mechanics, Philosophical Ramblings, Economic Theories, Weirdness
Appears in: Oathbound Seven, Oathbound Eclipse, Sara and the Chimera, The Haunted Fort, Oathbound Domains of the Forge, Oathbound Plains of Penance, Oathbound Wrack and Ruin, Oathbound Arena (outline)

"There has been a certain amount of guilt in my freedom, knowing that it has been gained only through my own failures. These lands were precious to me once, and to see them reformed and reimagined by a mortal mind is both an honor and a nightmare. As much as I longed for my release, and even worked for it over the ages of my servitude, its moment came without foresight. Seeds that I had laid went fallow, plans that I had made went sour. To be wrenched away from one’s own existence and see it handed to a child, a drooling fool, to chew on and to smash was far more painful in the long term than the pleasure and joy brought by the moment of release. I spent ages being free, until freedom itself seemed like a punishment; for what is freedom but to be no one… of no importance and of no future. To wander these lands and to accept what is now here as a reality is degradingly painful to me, not simply because of the choices I know I would have made differently, but because of how easily and readily I have been replaced, as if nothing I had done was ever truly mine to begin with. Now, of course, I can accept that this is because I am and have always been a part of you, an instrument of your will and your imagination, just as was Annoxus, and just as is Colopitiron, whomever may play his part."

"Sara Starbright thought for a moment. What had he said? She’d been studying the pattern on Mr. Barrett’s aged tweed coat and gotten lost for a moment. Suddenly it popped into her head. “Yes,” she answered. “I heard every word. You just said, ‘Look Sara, if you can’t cooperate with me, then I don’t know how I can help you. Your teachers can’t accept your attitude in class, and If we can’t do something about that, we’re going to have to send you to another school.’ Then right before that you adjusted your glasses, fidgeted with the loose filling in your left rear molar, and said ‘Stop lying to everyone and just tell us who told you all these things. I’m a counselor, you can trust me.’ You also took two sips from your coffee mug, but didn’t enjoy them as the coffee pot wasn’t cleaned this morning and had burned-on residue from when Ms. Greeley forgot to turn it off last night.”"

"So you’re looking to do some worming, eh? Maybe yer ma got carried off by the scythin, or maybe you heard that rumor about the city of diamonds beneath the lava flows, or maybe you wanna try and make a few quick bucks selling picker pies to the urgoda… none of my business really, but in any case you’re going to wanna do some homework before you get way down into that hole. Sure, food and water helps, so does as a good knife and pack, some sturdy rope, and a renewable light source, but even carrying your own weight in water will really only buy you a week of survival instead of a few days, and your food will run out soon enough anyway. Plus, even a short trip is gonna take you longer than you think. Walking from point a to point b above ground might only take you a few hours, even in the dark, but now try walking from point a to point c, then crawling to point d on your belly, then climbing up a sheer cliff to point e, then swimming underwater to point f, and then rappelling down a quarter mile to point b. Well… you get the point."
© 2017 Epidemic Books, Inc.