Author Introduction: Tyler Omichinski

Tyler Omichinski and I met through a writing group known as Den Of Quills on Facebook.
He is featured in our upcoming Anthology, Den Of Thieves, and is personally publishing our NEXT anthology to be released in time for Autumn 2015.
With upcoming releases of his own, I now turn it over to him!

Tyler Omichinski

I am a somewhat experienced writer and freelancer, whatever that means.

My background is in law, politics, and policy, and I tend to dabble and be involved in stuff like that still. I dream of someday being able to make it just writing and doing essentially just what I want to do.

I’m about to release a couple of short stories as ebooks on Amazon. I’ve seen how webcomics, RPGs, and a number of other industries have gone with how they changed their business model, and now in the latest Writer’s Digest, at the time of writing, they are talking about a number of writers having success releasing their short stories online. There’s been a lot of other signs about it being a good call, so I’m releasing a few short stories that people have loved but haven’t been able to otherwise find homes to Amazon to see how they do.

I’m starting with two main pieces; Drop Out and From the Desk of Elizabeth Cooper. Drop Out is the second in a series of short stories that I’m writing about the future of humanity and how it seems to me that things will shake out as a result of us trying to become a post-needs society and deal with the environmental problems that we’re starting to face. From the Desk of Elizabeth Cooper is written as a found document and is vaguely cosmic horror. It is an attempt to modernize and follow Lovecraft, but applying modern corporations and laws to show how strange and alien these artificial creations really are. It feels unsettling and alien.

Currently I’m trying to put together a few different things. I have a novel that is nearly half done that I’m hoping to be shopping around to agents by the end of the year. I have released some teasers and early bits on my own website. I’m also doing my freelance thing, including a lot of writing for RPG companies. Finally, I’m involved with a publishing company here in Canada that is looking at doing some things with James Bond now that he’s off of copyright here in Canada.

My short stories will be out soon at my Amazon page, and I have a few pieces that I’m already featured in but you can see most of my portfolio at my own website.

Tyler has been writing for games companies for a few months, sent a number of short stories out into the wild, and regularly slings copy to keep him in coffee. He lives with a gigantic black dog named after Lord Byron who lives up to the name, and a badass editor of a fiancé. At some point he will likely have to get back into the day job game, but for the time being he’s wrangling with words and fighting them into submission.

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The Ranger Of Severum: Episode 1

Cloaked in darkness, the ranger moved swiftly through the night. The scent of blood lingered in every inhale of cold air, it sent thrilling chills up his spine.

Trillian hopped swiftly onto a boulder for a better view of the battle grounds of Taar. His dark violet eyes scanned the moon washed fields for any sign of life, but all he saw were the carcasses of the trolls of Ganth, which had been left to rot in the open plain. The ranger had been sent back to find what his students had missed in the earlier scrimmage. Unfortunately, their training had turned into a real battle and the young rangers had fled in fear, leaving the experienced trainers and swordsmen to fight off the advancing horde of beasts.

Trillian searched the surrounding forest, but found no sign of life anywhere. He sighed heavily, it had been quite a day and a final kill would ease the tension.

After an hour, Trillian gave up. Nothing was out in the night. Not even the old white owl who haunted the battle grounds of Taar with his banshee-like wail.

“You know,” Trillian said thinking aloud, “if I had been harder on my students, they might have learned to fear me as they do Sideon.” He pushed his dark hood off of his head, letting his hair flow down over his shoulders. His long hair was jet black, naturally streaked with deep red highlights. He ran a gloved hand over his narrow face, massaging his high cheekbones, then rubbing his inset eyes. “Yes, were I as strict as our Master.” He laughed at himself.

Suddenly, a cry of distress in the most melodic voice he had ever heard broke the silence. Instinctively, he ran toward the screams. Drawing his hood low upon his face and replacing his black leather gloves, Trillian slid silently into the clearing from which the screams were coming.

To his horror, the young woman crying out for help, was surrounded by three of the druid knights from Câr. A small hunting knife glinted in her hand, paling in comparison to the broadswords the druids pointed in her direction.

Trillian strung an arrow on his bow, then hesitated, intrigued to see how the situation might turn out.

The woman threw her dagger at one of the knights, which missed its target and stuck fast in a tree just beyond him.

Seeing she was now miserably weaponless, Trillian intervened, bringing down one of the knights with his skillful aim. The other of the two turned, taken off guard as another arrow hissed through the air.

One of the knights grabbed the woman and carried her off into the trees as the other stood guard, carefully avoiding the volley of arrows rhythmically flowing in his direction.

Once the knight and woman were safely hidden in the forest, the druid hissed sharply, “Show yourself! You who dare to take away our prey, did you not see us here first?” Each “s” was spoken in snake like breaths of air through the knight’s teeth, which clashed brightly against his black lips and glowing green eyes.

Trillian knew better than to speak. These demons only needed to hear a voice to kill an enemy.

He moved swiftly out of the line of fire, lest the druid decide to throw some form of magic in the direction from which the arrows had been raining.

“You are a smart one, I will give you that. I sense your presence, but your silence disavowals my ability to summon power against you.” Raising his hand, the druid sent a ring of blue fire in the direction from which the arrows had come.

Trillian heard the mock sound of laughter in the voice of his adversary, as he stole silently around the druid.

The druid hissed, “I feel your breath, so I know you are still here. Why don’t you fight like a man and show yourself?”

Trillian dodged a radius attack of purple smoke as he slid around a tree. He tipped an arrow in the vial of poison he carried with him, strung his bow, and spoke softly to the arrow, bidding it fly quietly and quickly. He aimed for the druid’s heart, letting loose the arrow. It landed perfectly embedded in its target.

The druid cried out as he removed the arrow, grunting angrily as he realized the poison had already released into his body. “That is not fair. What did I do to you?”

Trillian tipped another arrow, as he ran stealthily to another location.

A burst of flame disintegrated the tree Trillian had been hiding behind.

The druid was losing strength. He whirled about, “Where are you?” sending another radiant plume of smoke into the forest.

Trillian held his breath and hid behind the tree to escape the toxic fumes.

This time the druid walked in and out of the trees, shadowing them with an inky black liquid.

Trillian recognized the fluid as Leuth, a cruel poison that melted any form of flesh, fur, or fabric that touched it. He strung his second arrow, and it hissed quietly into the back of the druid, siding into his heart.

The druid gave a blood curling cry as he shrunk to the ground.

The ranger waited for a few moments before coming out to examine his kill, satisfied that the druid was indeed dead, Trillian kicked the body harshly. “May the fires of Hell be comfort to your damned soul.”

He hurried with swift soundless steps into the forest to find the last druid, and the woman brazen enough, it seemed, to have traveled at night by herself.