The captain loaned Arrow a small skiff that he rowed to shore and beached on a small strand of sand. After he pulled the boat ashore,he noticed it was oddly quiet on the island. There were no birds, no

The Oaken Dream sailed for three days before coming in sight of another island. There was no dock, so several crewmen went ashore with a skiff to buy supplies. The Pilgrim went with them to translate,

Arrow's favorite place on the island was the tallest hill. He'd walk up there, inventing stories and grand adventures for himself that he couldn't share with anyone. His friends' idea of an “adventure”

They watched the mountain advance, not knowing how they were going to get to it. The creature was immense, beyond the dreams of Raiju pilots. Nothing like this had ever been encountered before, but somehow

The black knight said little to Robert for the rest of the day, only occasionally pointing to a landmark or asking a simple question of the young knight. As the two rode onward, the land grew more foreboding,

“And you're looking for what again?” the sexton asked, leaning on his shovel. The cemetery around him was large, but meticulously well-maintained. Down the hill, a small village snuggled up to the Mule

Quiet snatched a dead man's gun from the ground and ducked behind a tree. A bandit ran past, looking for him. He stepped out, aimed with the new gun in his left hand, and blew the man's hat off. The sights

They rode North through the night, eventually reaching a large mill along the Poudre River in the canyon that shared its name. Emma was taken to a small room and locked inside, the rushing of the river

The gunshot echoed like a bullwhip through the narrow canyon. Emma Canfield of Fort Collins, Colorado, ducked her head down behind a rock and swore. She flipped open the trapdoor of her 1873 Springfield,

Hello Steemit My name's Kestutis Kalvaitis and I'm a writer from America (Ohio if anyone cares). I've been a part of the Pulp Revolution for a while, but I've been writing for longer than that. I'm not