Raistlin Allen
Achievements (28)
Stories (101)
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2025, In So Many Words
About a year ago, I posted my first piece here on Vocal in years. In Making it Hard to Fail, I talked about my goals for the new year in response to a challenge prompt. My goal was simple: to write for 15 minutes a day. No more was required, though as I suspected (and found in executing this plan) more did often follow.
By Raistlin Allen2 days ago in Writers
Spellslinger
The desert stretches its dry mouth out before me, dust filling my lungs as the light filters from the sky. I can see, just barely, the outlines of the next town on the horizon, and I lean forward and stroke Silas's mane. "Almost there, boy," I whisper, hoping the heat of the bodies I sense with the probing fingers of my magic isn't an illusion. This inhospitable land can do strange things to a person over time, and I've already been on the road for days.
By Raistlin Allen2 days ago in Fiction
How To Kill A Vampire
1. Don’t, if you value your life. These are creatures of legend for a reason. They haven't survived centuries among the mortal cattle through pure dumb luck. They possess powers of elusion and manipulation that you can't hope to get through your tiny mind.
By Raistlin Allen16 days ago in Fiction
Winterborn(e). Runner-Up in The Ritual of Winter Challenge.
Every winter there's one tradition I can't shake: I turn another year older, complete one more rotation around the sun. February is not a kind month- the kindest thing about it is probably just that it's shorter than the others. I was born on the 9th, a day when a snowstorm always seems to be around the corner. This happenstance has always seemed a cruel irony to me: I hate winter- to be born in the dead middle of it is like a bad joke (and I'm not laughing). Over time, though, I've come to see it at least as a kind of marker- I've made it halfway across the dismal stretch of cold after the holidays’ end.
By Raistlin Allen2 months ago in Humans
Tallahassee Eulogy
For having the only house on the street that boasted a banana tree, a gazebo, and a second floor. . For the great oaks draped in Spanish moss like the beards of an extinct dwarven species, its rough feel that made me shudder with a kind of fascinated dread.
By Raistlin Allen2 months ago in Poets
