Wulf's Collected Story Hour -- FINAL UPDATE 12/25


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Wulf Ratbane

Adventurer
Why bump this again? Well, because it is Tolkien's birthday again.

But mostly because, this time last year, I committed to (actually, finally) finishing a novelization of this Story Hour. It's taken 20 years (of procrastination and rumination) because a D&D game is not, in and of itself, a good foundation for a traditional fantasy novel. But if there are yet any fans of this SH out there, I am happy to share the news with you that the work is almost complete - though my original goal of 1 year was certainly achievable, it was nevertheless ambitious. But with 85k words (that's about 300 pages...) behind me, I find myself in the midst of Speaker in Dreams and certainly the finish line is within view.

And so, here's a look at the starting line(s):

Long, long ago, between the elder days and the age of Men, there lived a dwarf, and he was a bastard. Not a common bastard, in the sense that he was born out of wedlock – although he was that, too – but a recalcitrant bastard with a heart like a nasty, dirty, wet hole full of the ends of worms and an oozy smell, and a soul like a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it. This dwarf was a right bastard with a grudge, and that meant somebody was gonna pay.
 

Wulf Ratbane

Adventurer
Why bump this again? Well, because it is Tolkien's birthday again.

But mostly because, this time last year, I committed to (actually, finally) finishing a novelization of this Story Hour. It's taken 20 years (of procrastination and rumination) because a D&D game is not, in and of itself, a good foundation for a traditional fantasy novel. But if there are yet any fans of this SH out there, I am happy to share the news with you that the work is almost complete - though my original goal of 1 year was certainly achievable, it was nevertheless ambitious. But with 85k words (that's about 300 pages...) behind me, I find myself in the midst of Speaker in Dreams and certainly the finish line is within view.

And so, here's a look at the starting line(s):

Long, long ago, between the elder days and the age of Men, there lived a dwarf, and he was a bastard. Not a common bastard, in the sense that he was born out of wedlock – although he was that, too – but a recalcitrant bastard with a heart like a nasty, dirty, wet hole full of the ends of worms and an oozy smell, and a soul like a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it. This dwarf was a right bastard with a grudge, and that meant somebody was gonna pay.
 

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