Grilled Cheese

ExploreLog inSign up
Terms of UsePrivacy PolicyCommunity StandardsHelpGet the app

Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-14 21:33:42 EDT

Explore

PostsPeople
LatestRanked
@triempery.bsky.socialSep 19, 2026, 11:20 AM

#FantasyIndiesSeptember 19: Saturday Snippet

When writing first drafts of THE RILL LORD I inserted one of my sons' toy bears into the story. The little plush toy plays a small but important part.
#WritingCommunity #Triempery

Text excerpt from THE RILL LORD, sixth and final book of the Triempery Revelations series by L.L. Stephens. Snip is of a scene where Hans demands to know where Nalf, a Kheld leader, got a toy bear Hans knows was last in possession of a missing friend: “Where did you get this?” Hans demanded, staring hard at the man before him. The bear should have been with Dorilian. “Tell me what it is, I’ll tell you where I got it.” By his stance alone, Nalf advertised that he would say nothing until then. “It’s the toy bear I used with… I had it with me this morning. I sent it to Dorilian. You would get angry when you saw me carrying it. You told me to get myself a stick and some balls.” Hans disregarded the odd looks exchanged around the table, everything except Nalf’s nod and the way the burly man’s body relaxed. Nalf stepped aside and Hans pounced upon the little stuffed toy, taking it in his hand. The lumpish body was sodden and battered.
@triempery.bsky.socialSep 7, 2026, 11:18 AM

#WIPSnips The word for September 7 is ELEVATOR

Because NOMARA has not a single instance of anything resembling an elevator, I reached into the Triempery series. Here is a passage from SORDANEON in which Rill elevators make an appearance. Cargo needs them.
#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #Triempery

Text excerpt from SORDANEON, first book of the Triempery Revelations series by L.L. Stephens. In this snip, Marc Frederick observes the Rill god machine in motion and afterward confronts a formidable adversary who voices a complaint. Thrum. A deep reverberation sounded across the city, at a distance but imminent. Looking up, Marc Frederick watched a charys appear. The vessel’s immense mass effortlessly glided between shape-shifting arches before it came to a stop, suspended above the city like a sword in mid thrust. No matter how many times he saw the Rill in motion, he never quite got used to it. Its size, for one thing, obliterated human scale. He watched the rapid ascent of cargo elevators up the side of the mount, heading from the docks toward the platform. One of his guards interrupted, indicating a visitor important enough to merit his attention. He bit back a curse. For three months, he had avoided Chyralane, talking with her only briefly the night of the cartel’s Heptacentennial. Now she had pinned him, so any refusal on his part would be public. “You’ve been elusive,” she complained. Her cosmetician had done outstanding work, and her eyes glittered like topazes beneath amethyst-beaded brows. “I gave you information, and you gave me promises. So tell me why that boy is still free.” “I never agreed to deliver him to you—or anyone. And he has not set foot out of Essera in five months.” He was glad they were alone, with only bales and boxes and the Rill overhead, a silent witness.