stephanierpiper-blog

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Working on an image I'm using as the banner for the comic's website, twitter, facebook, etc etc. Learning light and shadows by diving right in! It's tough to understand, but I'm having a ton of fun!

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Here's the completed title page for my upcoming webcomic, Archaic Rebirth - an Indiana Jones-type archaeological fantasy set in space! In just a few months, I'll be releasing pages online, but until then I'll post teasers and sneak peeks here!

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Short Story #2 - Barf-Breath

Inspired by a prompt from r/writingprompts: "You are the destroyer of evils, the savior of the lands. You are a 10 year old child with your trusty animal sidekick."

The sun sparkled through the window to Lillie's study, giving the room a calming atmosphere as she read through a letter from the pile of mail that sat on the left side of her large, cherry wood desk. She didn't bother finishing before crumpling it and haphazardly throwing it behind her. The floor was littered with such rejects, and it seemed there was no end to the barrage of requests and fan mail. She frowned as she grabbed another from the pile. This one had a gold-trimmed envelope, and must have been spritzed lightly with a lavender perfume. Without opening it, Lillie discarded it. Fancy letters like that usually came from the most boring of people. She hated doing jobs for those stuffy, arrogant, holier-than-thou types. She could always sense they looked down on her, despite whatever act of heroism she performed for them. No, she would not be bothering with that type today.

As she reached back for the pile, the corner of an envelope peeked out from the middle. The world around her seemed dull compared to this little corner, and her eyes sparkled as she eagerly reached for it. When she pulled it out, the unopened letters atop it cascaded down onto the mess below. She held the treasure at arms length before her. It was even more perfect than she had imagined! The envelope itself was a saturated pink with shining gold florals printed over its entirety. What caught her attention, though, were the puffy stickers that were strewn about the envelope. She delicately touched the unicorn, which had a light softness, and whose horn glimmered in the sun. Excitedly, she ran her fingers over the dragon, whose scales were smooth and firm, and whose fire almost felt hot to the touch. She couldn't wait any longer, she gingerly pulled the tabs of the envelope apart, and squealed when she discovered its contents. Alongside the letter, the writer had included a few stickers for Lillie. She beamed when she found one shaped like a cat. It was curled into a sleepy ball and was softer than any animal she'd felt. Her mind was made up, and she scanned the letter for details regarding the sender's request. These people understood her. She was more than happy to banish a demon or slay a Minotaur for them.

"Barf-breath!" she cried. She ran through the small castle, desperately searching for her companion. Perhaps if she completed this mission, there would be even more of these enchanting stickers for her! "BARF-BREATH!"

The creature responded groggily, curling around the corner. It was clear that she had awoken him from his nap. Barf-Breath was an elderly cat, with long white hair and a puffy tail. She sprinted over to him and picked him up, nuzzling him and scratching his ears. He protested, but didn't quite have the will to resist.

"It's time for another adventure, Barf-Breath!" Lillie exclaimed, raising him above her. He looked down at her with uninterested eyes. "Now, don't be like that! Look what I've got!" She put Barf-Breath down and hummed as she peeled the cat sticker from its paper backing. She giggled as she smacked the sticker down, perfectly centered atop his head. She scooped him up again and opened the nearest door leading outside.

"You ready?" she exclaimed, her eagerness showing through in her voice. The cat emitted a long meow, which she interpreted as agreement (but anyone else might've heard a complaint). "All right! Cats are cute, but dragons are better. Let's go out and answer this letter!"

As the final word chimed from her mouth, Barf-Breath began to change before her eyes. Emerald scales replaced the snowy fur, and his neck elongated. It took a few moments, but soon her sweet little kitty was replaced with an awe-inspiring dragon. She climbed onto his back, and giggled when she saw the sticker was still stuck to the top of his head.

"Let's go, Barfy! We're going to visit Valendale today!" Barf-Breath replied with a deep and bellowing meow before stretching his wings. He flapped them nonchalantly, rising them into the air. Gaining momentum, they took off into the horizon.

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Short Story #1 - The Treacherous Tavern

Inspired by a prompt from r/writingprompts: “The United Galactic Conference is just days away. The Elves and Dwarves are rumored to be on the edge of another conflict, while the Orcs can't seemed to be bothered.”

It took me a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the tavern. It was loud and hectic, with stout, busty waitresses filing quickly past the hooting and hollering drunkards. My nose wrinkled at the smell, but I dared not hesitate long. Goblins were extremely temperamental, and if they thought an outsider was being insulting towards them, they were quick to act. I straightened up and strode to the bar, taking shallow breaths and ignoring the shouts suddenly directed at me.

"Ah, lookit his pritty skin!"

"Y'know, I think the beau'y pageant's tha' way!"

They guffawed and cheered at their own jokes, and my heart pounded as I hoped and prayed I wasn't getting myself in too deep. I was relieved that none of these people seemed to recognize me, and could only hope that would continue. I sat upon one of the rusted bar stools and gazed upon the automaton bartender. He was an older model, with some rust that matched the rest of the bar very nicely. The manufacturers had not bothered hiding the bolts and screws on this model, which seemed to add a little character as he wiped a glass clean.

"Evening, son!" the bot exclaimed. He was much more polite than his patrons. "What will you have to drink?"

"Uh, bourbon," I replied, the first drink that came to mind. A couple small lights on the bots shoulders lit up rhythmically as he calculated the total.

"Haven't been asked for that in a long time. One moment while I search!" A few more seconds of lights, and the bot began to print out a receipt, spitting it out his unmoving mouth. I reached up and tore it off for him when it was complete. I scoffed at the price, but held up my hand nonetheless. The bot's eyes flashed as he scanned my prints.

"Thank you, good sir. One moment while I fetch your drink!"

"EY!" a voice cried from the crowd. "Fetch THIS!" My reflexes took charge and I ducked, an empty pint glass sailing over my head and striking the bot. The automaton let out a sound which could only be described as a sigh, and began to vacuum the mess with his free hand. His other hand was hard at work preparing my drink, and I began to feel increasingly uncomfortable in this atmosphere.

"Some crowd, huh?" a voice said. I turned around and met eyes with the goblin approaching me.

"Hi, Victor," I greeted, motioning to the seat next to me.

"Been a long time, my friend," he reminisced. He climbed upon the stool next to me and waited for the bot to finished his tasks.

"Your drink, sir," he said, handing me my bourbon. I sipped from it as Victor snapped his fingers; not impatiently, but just loud enough to get the frazzled bot's attention.

"I'll 'ave a whiskey," he croaked.

"Yes sir, right away!" the automaton exclaimed, very quickly printing Victor's receipt. The bot tore the receipt from its mouth and handed it to Victor, who held up his hand for scanning.

"So what brings you t' these parts?" he said, his voice a gristle. "I hear you're more'n a general now! Never pegged you for the presidential type."

"Let's not talk about that, not here," I pressingly whispered. Victor let out a guttural laugh.

"Suit y'self. I'll ask again: what brings you here?"

"Well, to be quite honest, it does have to do with our warring days. The Aladonians could always count on Goblins to get the job done, and you were very good at what you do."

"Heh, you flatter me, boss."

"Victor, you were always my go-to man when it came to certain," I hesitated, "stealth missions."

"So you wan' me to off someone? Who's the target?"

"Well," a long pause, "it's Illiyana Gourdi."

A silence fell between us as I said the name. Despite the noisiness of the bar, it felt as if the world stopped for a moment.

"The Elven Prime Minister?" Victor questioned, his voice a terrified whisper.

"Yes. I would like to hire you, and I would like you to-"

"Don't say it again!" he stammered, cutting me off. He leaned back in his stool, taking a long drink of his whiskey. "Fucking fuck, how much?" He began to drink again.

"A trillion," I said blatantly. He choked on the drink. Spitting it out and sputtering, he gathered some unwanted attention from the other patrons. I jumped as he slammed his drink on the ground, smashing it and letting out a victorious roar. The bar joined him in a shout and returned to their own businesses, leaving us once again to our privacy. He waited another moment before returning to our conversation.

"'ow come?" he snarled.

"In ten days, the twenty-sixth United Galactic Conference will convene. During that time, an attempt will be made to make peace between the Elven Nation and the Dwarven Kingdom. If Illiyana Gourdi is killed during this truce, war is inevitable."

"Why will they assume a Dwarf killed her?"

"Tensions are high, it's a very sensitive time where jumping to conclusions is expected."

"And why d'you want a war between them? They 'ave nothing to do with your planet."

"That's where you're wrong," I explained, a small grin finding its way across my face. "The elves look to Aladon for our plasma weaponry. The alliance I have with the Elven Nation will convince them of my innocence in this bloody affair, and my people can profit. It's just the economical boost my planet needs."

Victor spit to his side. "Disgusting," he remarked. "Fuckin' greedy as fuck."

"Two trillion."

"What?"

"One trillion now," I teased, leaning in closer, "and another trillion when war is declared." He stopped and slumped back in his seat. After what felt like an eternity, he shook his head and rubbed his furrowed brow. Without looking at me, he reached out his hand in agreement.