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About Deviant Jacob ZollerMale/United States Recent Activity
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Literature
Vermin
Abandoned. Betrayed. Driven out and left for dead.
In the pouring rain, in the middle of the night, with curses and violence, his own village had dragged him from his home and thrown him out. There, in a muddy ditch surrounded with flies, he had been left to bleed out and die.
But he refused to die.
He called out to the gods for salvation, for life, for retribution. When the gods did not answer him, he called out for something else. Anything else.
And something else answered him.
His life was spared, and power was given to him. Like a phoenix, he rose from the ashes of his old life. Vermin they had called him as they left him, Vermin would be his new name.
His anger burned through the scars they had left on him, but he knew he must bide his time. This power he had recieved was not strong enough yet. It was still foreign to him, and he could tell that it would take time to master it.
Slowly. Day by day. His body healed completely, and began to grow stronger. The power that had filled hi
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Literature
Cherry Blossoms.
Ohana walked through the snowy fields. She had gotten a glimpse of her destination a ways off, the pink she was looking for was a stark contrast to the bleak white of the snow.
It was mid-spring, and winter had thrown one last snowstorm over the land. It would melt soon enough. The coolness of the snow was tempered by the warmth of the sun.
The tree rose up before her, and Ohana paused for a moment to admire it. Ordinarily, there wouldn't have been any trees like it in this area, but she had brought it as a small sapling long ago. Cherry blossoms had always calmed her down when she was upset, and now this was the last one.
The wars had taken the rest. Pillagers and barbarians, ruthless people who cared only for destruction, had laid waste to the grove that had stood by her village for generations. She could still remember the beauty of the grove all blossoming at once.
Ohana and her mother had fled the area when word came that the war was making its way south towards them. But before t
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Literature
Fuchsliebe.
Kharia stood at the altar. Fuslan stood opposite her, and neither could stop smiling and staring at the other. It had been a long wait up to this point, and in a few minutes they would be married.
Kharia's long wedding gown trailed behind her. She had spent months picking out the right one, and had even had it customized just for her. This was the day it had all built up to. This was her day. This was THEIR day.
Through the corner of her eye Kharia could see the crowd. Her parents, family, friends, everyone was gathered to watch this. Fuslan had a much smaller group for his side, he had been an orphan and had no extended family.
She was so happy in the present, but she kept thinking of the future. The days, weeks, months, and years ahead of her and Fuslan. The words of the minister brought her back to the present.
"If anyone knows a reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your piece," the minister said.
Fuslan reached forward and took her hand. He squeezed it
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Literature
Open Species: Bestials.
Bestials are a Highborn Arcanic race found in Laenost. Unlike many of the other Highborns, (Orcs, Elves, Dwarves, etc.) Bestials do not have a particular Void Realm that they hail from. They instead mainly dwell in Laenost proper. Also unlike most other Highborns, they can be found in many of the other Realms. They have good relations with the Elves of Myrchrend, some have been known to live in Carenal and Torrentia, and there have even been reports that winged Bestials live in Aeruthas.
Physically, Bestials are extremely varied. They are highly animalistic, though they are bipedal. They have the physical characteristics of a large number of animals, and can range in size from ten inches to eight feet tall.
The most commonly seen Bestials are Maarei, who have very feline features and are generally four to six feet tall. The second most common are the Lurei, who are more canine and range from five to six feet tall. There are many other kinds, but the most prevalent are either Musei, whi
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Mature content
Blood Detective. :icondaeslune:DaesLune 0 0
Literature
Out Camping.
It's cold tonight. I feel colder than ever before.
Sadrin curled up at the foot of a towering oak tree. He hadn't been able to find the Faeries today. He had looked for hours, peering under rocks and up in the branches of the trees. In the small brook that ran through the valley and in the long grass. The fog hadn't lifted all day, and didn't show signs of leaving now.
His stomach growled, and he took another bite of the root he had dug up. His dad had showed him some of the edible things one could find in the wilderness, when his dad was still alive. Now it was Kelsper who took care of him and his mother. He didn't like Kelsper. Kelsper was an angry man, and had hurt him too many times.
So he had left for the Faerie Valley. No grown-ups came here. They were scared of the Faeries. But Sadrin knew, he knew all about them. The Faeries were nice. To children, at least.
Sadrin felt his eyes getting heavy. As he drifted off to sleep he thought he saw dancing lights in the distance. The Faer
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Literature
Blood Lord.
The depths of Necropolis were scarcely visited by mortals. The twisted realm of decaying cities and sprawling graveyards was dangerous enough on its own with the countless undead that roamed the misty halls and courtyards, but deep in dungeons or the pockets of blackened trees lived (or un-lived) creatures of incredible power and ruthless sadism.
The Blood Lords were among the rarer of those. Ancient vampires of horrible strength and immense intellect that commanded all nearby undead from within whatever bastion of unholy magics in which they resided. They alone held the power to travel to other realms, which they used relatively infrequently in order to get fresh food. ‘Boogeymen’ was what humans called them, darkness personified that would make noise in the night and abscond with cattle or even leave a house taking every resident. They usually took their victims to their lairs to feed but occasionally would leave the unfortunates behind as mindless undead.
Necromancers we
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Literature
Whirlwind Lance Through the Endless Sky.
Sheilk walked down the road towards the Airship Dock. The sun was shining, the west wind was blowing, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. This was the day of departure, and she couldn't have asked for a better one.
She knew Rannen would be at the ship. He was there when she left the night before, and he had probably stayed there overnight. The man had been waiting for this day his entire life, at this point there was no way he'd leave the ship.
She turned the corner past the Marksman's Guild, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw the ship. There it was, gleaming in the morning sun, the Whirlwind Lance. It was finally done construction.
The Whirlwind Lance had been an old battleship years ago. Back in the aftermath of the war with Zael Talen, the first Magic Emperor had commissioned dozens of them to be built. Some had seen use in combat, but for the most part they had been unneeded.
That was hundreds of years ago. The fact that any of those ships had survived was a testament
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Literature
Character Bio: Tulkus.
Tulkus was a pioneer of magic use. He lived roughly 1,000 years ago. He was born as a Void Gate, a human with an incredible amount of magic power and potential, there were none before him and have been none after.
His magical powers caused him to be abandoned at a very young age. His parents were not able to handle the things that he could do naturally, and at that time there was no organized system of magic users to provide aid. He made a friend, Zael Talen, shortly after and stayed with him for most of his childhood. His friend helped him to refine and control his powers.
Tulkus became aware of other Realms as a child. Up until that point other Void Realms were only accessible by traveling to the edge of the world and going into the Shroud. Tulkus unwittingly discovered the possibility of Realm travel when he arrived in Myrchrend while walking through the forest outside the village he was staying in. He stayed there for about a year, and was the first mortal to ever commune with the
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Literature
Argonas and Soriel.
On the first day, Argonas contacted a demon. He told the demon "In seven days, I will let you have my body in exchange for your power." On the second day, he told another demon "In six days, I will let you have my body in exchange for power." He did this for the rest of the week. Seven demons came to him to take his body, but none of them could best the others. So Argonas gained the power of seven demons without losing his body.
After Argonas had done this, he contacted an Angel. He told the Angel "When the time comes for me to die, I will give my life to you in exchange for saving my soul. You will get to kill seven demons." The Angel agreed.
What Argonas did not know was that Soriel, the Angel, had given him the idea in a dream in the first place. Soriel is a Ministering Angel, one who speaks hope to humans to guide them away from evil. But Soriel wishes to take a more active role in destroying demons, so he masterminded this plan to kill seven of them.
Soriel is mistaken as well, th
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Literature
The Carbyle Man.
"Come on, this way." Kharma urged Marshal on. "I want to get out of this cave before nighttime."
Marshal sighed. "Yeah. Assuming that the treasure is even in here."
"If you didn't believe it was in here, you never would have agreed on coming."
"Just make absolutely sure you don't tell one of the villagers on our way out." Marshal glared at her. "The last thing I want is to get lynched because we stole some sacred treasure."
Kharma and Marshal walked through the cave. It varied from close and cramped to wide and open, and they were currently in an area with a very low roof. The cave would have been very maze-ish if the villagers hadn't lined the walls on the path to the treasure with all sorts of symbols and decorations.
The lantern flickered as Kharma stopped suddenly. There was a large rock in the middle of the path, big enough that they had to crawl over it. More of the strange symbols were carved on it.
The pair were treasure hunters. They didn't really need the extra money, it was
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Bacon!!  by DaesLune Bacon!! :icondaeslune:DaesLune 1 0
Literature
Whispers in the Armor.
Duran walked into the camp. It had been a grueling day, the war wasn't letting up in the slightest, and his daily routine was exhausting.
He trudged into the barracks with a sigh. His Karraba armor began to open up with the insectoid click clack that it was known for and revealed his face. He popped the helmet off and held it at his side.
The war they were in was a battle of attrition. They were defending against a much larger force, and the only way they could keep their territory was by waging a brutal campaign of guerilla warfare. The Karraba armor was crucial to this, and without it they would have long been wiped out.
The armor gave them speed, agility, stamina, and offensive and defensive capabilities that were above and beyond anything that humans could attain. Despite this, the users of the armor were still human and would need rest and sustenance.
So they worked in shifts. A handful of Karraba soldiers could keep the enemy army on their toes and deny any scouting parties or di
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Literature
Not From This World.
Salna walked through the devastated town. Every structure was demolished, every building flattened. There was nothing but rubble. She walked and pretended to look for survivors.
She heard Tolnyorn moving something one street over. He was most likely lifting a piece of a building to check if someone was alive. But she knew that they weren't. She knew they were all dead.
And she knew it was her fault.
This was the third town. When it had struck the first, they had been just hours too late. The second happened a day before they got there. This one had been destroyed for at least a week. By now there was most likely another town vanished off the map.
And it was all because she wanted to experience another world.
Tolnyorn's head peeked above a ruined house. He caught her eye and shook his head mournfully. Just like she did, he had already known that there would be no survivors. But he had needed to look anyway.
He would have been able to sniff out someone alive, his nose was keen enough to
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Literature
[Out] of Time.
Onder looked around at the scene he had prepared. The valley had everything he would need to win. The lake had been diluted for weeks with his power. The ground was soaked in rain fed by his magic. The trees were all in tune with his life-force.
Today would be the day. Today he would succeed at the Council's task for him, and he would take his place as a permanent member of the Council. He would have power, wealth, and an easy life, all for completing this one battle.
He harbored no illusions. This would be an incredibly difficult fight. Ordinarily it would be an impossible fight, but he had a trump card that would allow him victory.
The Council had financed him for this attempt. They had also provided him with many new spells, and they had set aside an area for him to fight. The Council desperately wanted the prize of this battle. They wanted the Endless.
This would be the day that Onder killed Tempus Temporis.
Onder steeled himself. The first hurdle would be getting him to show up, a
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Literature
Child of the Forest.
Jorndrin kicked a stone as he walked down the path. He hummed to himself, a lonely tune that made his downcast mood go lower by the minute.
He passed by a group of dryads talking amongst themselves. Once they caught site of him they lowered their voices until he passed. It didn't matter, he was used to it.
The Father of the Forest had given him a job for the day, another task that only served to take up time. He was sick of it, he had no true place in the Forest and everyone knew it. The dryads wouldn't even talk to him. The rest of the animals just treated him with either pity or scorn.
Jorndrin was a human living in the world of sprites and faeries. A young boy with no family or friends. Years ago his parents had left him here, he had been told it was to protect him... but he knew better. They just didn't want him. Nobody wanted him.
At first it had been wonderful, being cared for by animals and forest spirits. The Father of the Forest had granted the gift of speech to most of the an
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Abandoned. Betrayed. Driven out and left for dead.
In the pouring rain, in the middle of the night, with curses and violence, his own village had dragged him from his home and thrown him out. There, in a muddy ditch surrounded with flies, he had been left to bleed out and die.
But he refused to die.
He called out to the gods for salvation, for life, for retribution. When the gods did not answer him, he called out for something else. Anything else.
And something else answered him.
His life was spared, and power was given to him. Like a phoenix, he rose from the ashes of his old life. Vermin they had called him as they left him, Vermin would be his new name.
His anger burned through the scars they had left on him, but he knew he must bide his time. This power he had recieved was not strong enough yet. It was still foreign to him, and he could tell that it would take time to master it.
Slowly. Day by day. His body healed completely, and began to grow stronger. The power that had filled him pulsed with every heartbeat. It would not be long before he could take revenge, it would not be long before the ones who had sentanced him to death would die themselves.
Then he felt the pain. Whatever had given him life demanded life from him, and he knew that if he did not provide it his own life would be taken. At his touch trees withered and birds died, at the brush of his fingers water dried up and fish eked out their lives in front of him.
But it was not enough. The life of nature was but an appetizer for the power within him, he needed a full course.
So he started with travelers. He was close enough to a city of humans that they would come by from time to time on the path, and their lives were exactly what the power demanded. It did not take him long to realize that he must hide himself, that he could no longer approach people head on. The evil glow in his eyes set them on guard.
At last he felt complete. His body was strong, stronger than it had ever been before. The dark magic inside him was second nature now. The earth shuddered at the touch of his feet, and the souls of his enemies were brought to his hand with but a thought.
In the pouring rain, in the middle of the night, he brought curses and violence to the village. As the first one fell, he could tell that the dark power would be pleased with the harvest.
Vermin had his revenge.
Vermin
I came up with a story when I saw fulualea.deviantart.com/art/Ve… and I thought I'd write it up. Took me a while >.< but I eventually got to it.

Unofficial fan story!
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I'm having a hard time getting my butt to work! Still, my brain is working on things as usual. I'll have like 6 things to pump out once I get the motivation!

Also got a collab project going. Fortunately I'm able to focus on that one!
Ohana walked through the snowy fields. She had gotten a glimpse of her destination a ways off, the pink she was looking for was a stark contrast to the bleak white of the snow.

It was mid-spring, and winter had thrown one last snowstorm over the land. It would melt soon enough. The coolness of the snow was tempered by the warmth of the sun.

The tree rose up before her, and Ohana paused for a moment to admire it. Ordinarily, there wouldn't have been any trees like it in this area, but she had brought it as a small sapling long ago. Cherry blossoms had always calmed her down when she was upset, and now this was the last one.

The wars had taken the rest. Pillagers and barbarians, ruthless people who cared only for destruction, had laid waste to the grove that had stood by her village for generations. She could still remember the beauty of the grove all blossoming at once.

Ohana and her mother had fled the area when word came that the war was making its way south towards them. But before they left, she had brought a sapling, a single sapling, to this field. A just-in-case measure. Unfortunately, it had been needed.

The tree had grown up just fine in the field. It was strong and resilient, just like her, and it thrived despite being in an unfamiliar area. She identified with it that way, having grown up away from her home.
Of course, her mother had tried to make the new place they lived their 'home'. But it wasn't, when you are born and spend your childhood in an area, that area will always be your home. So when the war had gone back north, she had returned to her home.

She walked up to the tree and knelt beside it. Petals were falling, and a few landed in her hair. The ground had a small blanket of pink leaves. Ohana breathed in the aroma of the flowers and felt peace fill her body.

After a few moments of sitting by the tree, she reached over and gave it a small hug. This was her tree, more than that, it was her family. She turned and sat with it at her back.

She gathered some of the flowers and petals to her. The warmth of the sun shone through the branches, and she felt herself nodding off to sleep.

For now, for this moment in time, life was as it should be. Childhood had returned. She had saved these cherry blossoms from the wars years ago. Now, they saved her mind from the worries and stress of life.
This was more than a tree. This was her family.
Cherry Blossoms.
An unofficial fic written when I saw the picture lluluchwan.deviantart.com/art/… by lluluchwan 

Hope you like it! Perhaps I'll be able to do an official one for you someday! :)
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Kharia stood at the altar. Fuslan stood opposite her, and neither could stop smiling and staring at the other. It had been a long wait up to this point, and in a few minutes they would be married.</p>

Kharia's long wedding gown trailed behind her. She had spent months picking out the right one, and had even had it customized just for her. This was the day it had all built up to. This was her day. This was THEIR day.

Through the corner of her eye Kharia could see the crowd. Her parents, family, friends, everyone was gathered to watch this. Fuslan had a much smaller group for his side, he had been an orphan and had no extended family.

She was so happy in the present, but she kept thinking of the future. The days, weeks, months, and years ahead of her and Fuslan. The words of the minister brought her back to the present.

"If anyone knows a reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your piece," the minister said.

Fuslan reached forward and took her hand. He squeezed it a little. Kharia gave a small giggle. Nothing could get in the way of their happiness.

"I object," said a voice loudly. There were gasps and exclamations of shock from the crowd.

Kharia's eyes went wide and her eyes went to the crowd. Darmin was standing up and he had a grim expression on his face. He had always loved her, but she had never loved him back. When she had fallen for Fuslan he had been supportive- or so he had said.

"I can't let this happen," he said.

"Darmin!" Kharia had no idea what to say. Fuslan held her hand tightly.

"You don't know the truth about this person, this THING!" he called out. He held up what seemed to be a black stone.

Fuslan shook his head. "No!" he said. "Don't do this. Please."

Darmin threw the stone to the ground. "The 'man' you fell for is no man at all- he's a demon fox!"

There was a bright flash.

Kharia blinked to try to restore her eyesight. She was confused, there was a bright orange-red shape next to her. She looked down at her hand as she felt something strange, to find that Fuslan's hand had been replaced by a large black paw.

Fuslan was no longer next to her. Instead there was a giant spirit-fox. It pulled its paw away from her hand.

-I am sorry- it said, and then it leaped into the air and vanished.

There was a moment of stunned silence. More than a few people in the audience fainted. Kharia closed her hand as the warmth from Fuslan's hand faded.

"You see?" Darmin shouted. "It was no human at all. Kharia, I have saved you!"

Without a word Kharia ran from the building. She ran out the door and down the street. Her long wedding dress trailed behind her, and nobody seemed to have the courage to follow or stop her.

She ran down the street until she came to the field. The grass was long, and she left a trail through it as she ran.

She knew where she had to go. The place where it all started. The place where she had first met him. She reached the end of the field and into the forest. She continued along until she came to the grove of birch trees.

The wind picked up and carried some scattered leaves past her. She stood and waited. At long last she felt his presence, the same as the first time they had met.

-why did you come, Kharia?-

The giant fox spirit that was Fuslan walked through the trees towards her.

"I came to see my husband," Kharia replied.

-but I am not human. You now see what I am-

"Fuslan, Fuslan," Kharia smiled. "Do you remember what I first said to you when you approached me in these woods?"

-you asked who I was-

Kharia reached out her hand to him. "No. I asked WHAT you were. You looked like a man just like any other, but I could tell there was something special about you."

-I am not human. I tried to be human, for you. I have always loved you-

"And I have always loved you. Even now. Fuslan, you do not have a human body, but you have the most human soul I have ever met."

Fuslan stepped one foot closer to her. Kharia touched her hand to his soft fur.

-I will always- he said.

                                 

"Love you," she finished.

Fuchsliebe.
A short story I wrote when I saw mohn-blume.deviantart.com/art/…. The art just spoke to me that there had to be a story behind it!
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I see artwork all the time that I'm jealous of. I just wonder... is anyone ever jealous of writing ability?

IDK, I feel like I put my heart and soul into a lot of my stories but no matter how touching or awesome I make them they'll never be worthy of someone being jealous of them.

I get jealous of the great authors like Lewis, Bradbury, Asimov, and Tolkien, of course. I sometimes just wonder if anyone will ever be jealous of me...

Not that it's needed. I like my work, and I've heard others say that they like it as well. They don't need to be jealous. It'd just be nice and flattering lol.
I don't think I've gotten a single word down this week. After three stories last week. Sheesh.

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DaesLune
Jacob Zoller
United States
I'm a writer who joined this site looking for an artist or two. I've got a book and a quarter under my belt and I'm hoping to move myself forward in the world through the worlds I have created!
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:iconkillermakachop:
KillerMakaChop Featured By Owner Mar 5, 2017  Student General Artist
Hay You've done a lot for me XD So uh, I know I haven't been drawing much lately but If you want for a payment I can draw  character for you ^w^ Any character of yours you want. Just note me
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MomokoStar Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Hey •3• I wanna let you know I just finished reading the comment and thank you so much but I'm jot going to reply directly towards it x3 i wanna read it a few more times and work with it c: the names thing like was mind blowing for me xD so I wanna leave it in my notifications so I can easily come back to it c:
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:icondaeslune:
DaesLune Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2017
Haha, thank you for the compliment! I'm super glad I could help you out. Sometimes I feel guilty that so much of this comes so naturally to me, while others have difficulty with it. But then I remember that it means I can help others out! And, of course, I've got plenty of areas that I need help with on my own XD. So ask me any questions you have any time.
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CrossXComix Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2016  Hobbyist Artist
Welcome to Deviantart! 
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DaesLune Featured By Owner Aug 3, 2016
Thank you!
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