The Acorn Avenger
The Gnome, The Nut, and the Nonsense Somewhere in the leafy middle of nowhere, between the edge of “don’t go in there” and “oh hell, why did we come in here...
Leia o artigoThe story archive
Fifteen illustrated stories appear on each archive page, newest first.
The story archive
238 published tales
The Gnome, The Nut, and the Nonsense Somewhere in the leafy middle of nowhere, between the edge of “don’t go in there” and “oh hell, why did we come in here...
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The Owl Who Knew Too Much In the beginning — before calendars, before clocks, before that awkward invention of “daylight savings time” — there was only the ...
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The Bath Time Rebellion Dragons, as you may know, are not typically creatures of hygiene. They’re more “roll in ashes and singe your eyebrows” than “minty f...
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The Contract, the Boat, and the Bad Idea I signed the contract the way every bad adventure begins: with a cheap pen, a good whiskey, and a promise I absolut...
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The Circle No One Sweeps The village had long since stopped asking why their forge was haunted. Honestly, it was easier to pretend that the glowing sigil ca...
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The Emberling Who Wouldn't Behave In a desert so old it forgot its own name, where the sun whispered secrets to the dunes and the wind told only dirty jokes...
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The First Verse The ocean always had its whispers, but tonight they rose in a chorus. Beneath the ink-black surface, lanternfish flickered like drunken fire...
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A Dragonling with Too Much Juice Long before kingdoms rose and fell, and even before humanity figured out how to weaponize wine into bad karaoke, there exis...
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The Tiger in the Snow They said the forest had a keeper. Not a ranger, not some crusty hermit with a beard full of frozen squirrels, but a tiger. A big, whi...
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If you ask the birders down at the trailhead what a Pileated Woodpecker sounds like, they’ll give you three answers: a jungle monkey on espresso, a carpente...
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Shards, Smoke, and a Bad Attitude The egg didn’t so much hatch as declare war on complacency. It split with the sound of a wineglass meeting a tiled floor af...
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The Night the City Sprouted Heels I was three blocks deep into a rain-polished evening, the kind that makes every taxi light bokeh look like a gold coin thr...
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The Barrel-Bottom Prophet It was said in the whisperiest of taverns — between shots of regret and beers of poor decisions — that somewhere deep in the grove...
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The Sacred Order of the Squish In a rose-covered corner of a sleepy village nestled somewhere between the Land of Milk and Belly Laughs, there lived a baby n...
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Tongue Wars and the Forest Code of Sass In the deepest thicket of the Glibbergrove, where mushrooms grew big enough to get parking tickets and squirrels wor...
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