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Topics - Fortis Scriptor

Pages: 1 [2]
Manga Drawing Workshop / Hey artists, you want to do something cool?
« on: December 03, 2016, 05:54:20 AM »
Welcome artists who got sucked in by my catchy topic title hehehe  :tongue: I'm Fortis a writer on this forum, and I have something that I think you artists on here may enjoy. "So what is it?" you ask. Well, I'll tell you but to explain it I'll give you the fairly short background on it. So last night before I went to bed I decided to open up Spotify and just lie on my bed listening to my writing inspiration playlist (I've caught a bad case of writer's block, don't worry it's not contagious) anyway so there I was listening to some music when I got a great idea! "Get on with it and tell us already you babbling buffoon!" You readers yell impatiently.

Okay, okay put down the pencil shivs I'll tell you. I'm going to post a couple songs on here and as an exercise of creativity, I'd like it if you artists would draw a character inspired by one of the songs. It could be the main character of the song itself, it could be a character who you imagine kicking the living crap out of bad guys while this song plays in the background, whatever the world is your oyster!  :D So have fun. I look forward to seeing the results. Also, writer's if you feel inspired to write a little short story by one of these, feel free to post those down below too.  :thumbsup:

Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner

The Ninth Legion



The way of the sword
(Quick note for this one, I know it's a long song but really it's worth a listen, Hans Zimmer is a badass composer and this is among his best work)

Red Warrior
(In case you haven't noticed I'm kind of a big movie soundtrack fan  :D )

Alright, I think 6 is more than enough. Have fun and have a wonderful day!  ;D

PS If anybody wants to add songs that they feel would be good for this thread please post them!

Manga Writer workshop / Hey want some help meeting writing/drawing goals!
« on: October 07, 2016, 07:11:11 AM »
Hi there fellow procrastinator. Fortis Scriptor here, if you read the title of this thread then you're probably here looking for help on meeting your writing goals because you may or may not be having trouble meeting them.

Well I'm here to offer a helpful tool. "What is that tool?" you ask.  :notunderstand:
Quite simply it's me and others who respond to the thread. What I'm suggesting is that anyone who replies to this thread set a goal and a date when you want your reminder sent to you. That includes me  ;D , and then for all of us to remind each other through PM.

My goal is to write 12,000 words per week, and this week, in particular, I'd like to finish chapter 3 of Archangel Uriel: Rise of the Crimson Angels, and finish the short story Invictus. And I'd like to be reminded on Friday's.

I hope that this can help those of us in the writing boat with getting work done.  ;D Have a nice day and happy writing  :thumbsup:

Develop Your Story / Fortis Scriptor's Tales from Eclen.
« on: October 04, 2016, 04:19:53 AM »

As the sun rose on the fourth day of battle, I roused my men from their brief time of rest and gave them permission to eat their last half rations.

While they ate, my Executive Officer and I surveyed the perimeter and observed the enemy's movements.

In total, we could estimate that their numbers had swelled to near 600 regular infantry that we could see. They were accompanied by almost a full battery of light artillery, firing shells no heavier than 7 pounds.

The thing that was of concern, however, was the machine gun section which was entrenched on a hill that overlooked the makeshift redoubt that we had built, which the men named, Fort Invictus.

Whilst most of my men took refuge on the edges of the redoubt to avoid artillery and sniper fire, Ensign Jackson, flanked by our company fifer, and drummer marched to the center of Invictus where they had dug out a last ditch defensive circle, and erected a flagpole, which at dawn each morning they had risen the flag of the Empress along with our regimental colors, and played a patriotic tune.

However this morning they had played Red Mist of Aspya, originally written as a terrifying cavalry march, the version adapted by the Eclenian Empire changed the tune a bit and was only used in memoriam of those who fought to the last.

As the fife and drum fell silent, the Merchant artillery opened fire on our positions and did not cease their hellish barrage until just past midday. At least twenty of my men were killed by the high explosive shelling, though it was hard to tell an exact number as many of them were nothing but puddles of mangled flesh and splintered bone.

Then at 13:33 hours a vicious roar echoed around all sides of Fort Invictus, it was the battle cry of the merchant devils, they shouted such vile and unholy words calling for death, and defilement to the Empress.

I would not stand for such insults, so I climbed onto the fire step and roared back with insults of my own, and encouraged my brothers in arms to join me. Soon it became a battle of who could crow their battle cry the loudest, and though the Merchants had the advantage in the numbers, the men of Eclen let out one united roar and overpowered the enemy’s out of tune hullabaloo.

Soon the battle between war cries ended as our throats were dry and our vocal cords were hoarse. The men climbed back down off the fire step and formed up in lines by platoon. There was a long silence, the ever so famous calm before the storm, that sends chills even down the bony spine of death itself.

The silence was finally broken by the order to advance coming from the enemy officers.
I turned and glanced at my subordinates and nodded to the left and the right, then I cleared my throat and called out “Fix bayonets!” drawing my saber. I looked to my men and made sure that all of them had fixed their bayonets, then I raised my saber and barked “Climb fire step!” and ran forward climbing the fire step. My men followed close behind and took their battle positions, preparing for the assault.
   I looked around the perimeter and checked to see that all platoons were in position. Once that was done, I grabbed my trench whistle and blew the present arms call, my subordinate officers followed suit echoing it. Within a second after the whistle blasts, the entire company was at the ready to fire.

I looked out at the advancing wall of enemy troops in black uniforms and figured with my limited ammo supply it would be best to start off with something that made my firepower seem more powerful than it actually was, thus I blew out the call for ripple fire starting with my platoon, going from left to right, and then the call for the company to repeat the order three times before awaiting further orders. Again my subordinates echoed the call, and the troopers understood the order perfectly following it with the precision matched only by the Empress’ own Praetorian Guards.

It was glorious to watch the enemy’s front ranks drop in droves, by the time the company had finished firing their three volleys we had effectively dispatched the entire enemy assault which consisted of a force slightly larger than my own, with about a hundred and twenty-five men by my estimate. Most of them were left crying for their mothers in the field.

The men cheered raising their kepi’s and waving at the enemy positions taunting them. Then suddenly, the enemy machine gun section opened fire sweeping the northern field in front of Invictus killing the wounded men. The message was bluntly given and begrudgingly received, the men quickly stopped cheering.

The enemy were here for blood, they weren’t even showing quarter to their own wounded, let alone ours. I didn’t let it get to me, though, the Empress had selected me and my company of Imperial Fusiliers to escort the crowned princess to a ship which would take her away from the turmoil of the Imperial heartlands to the powerful and well-protected fortresses of the southern colonies in Al-Lat.

With that thought firmly present in my mind, I brought up my binoculars and scanned the enemy lines, attempting to calculate what they were going to do next.

From the looks of things, I guessed that the Merchants would reorganize their forces, then shell us a bit more, before sending another wave of infantry at the earthen walls of Invictus.

My Executive Officer tapped on the back of my leg with his walking stick and said.
“Sir, with all do respect. Seeing as the enemy has ceased their attack for the moment, perhaps we should get off the fire step, and take a moment to rest?”

   “That sounds like a great idea Danny,” I replied wiping the sweat from my brow, “if you wouldn’t mind passing on the order so that the rest of the platoons do the same.”

   Danny smiled, saluted, and carried out the order. 

As soon as I was off of the fire step, I slumped down against the dirt wall and pulled a photograph of my wife and daughter from my tunic. I regretted doing so as painful memories flooded back into my mind. I didn’t have much time to dwell on them, as an explosive shell burst over my head, the shock wave was intense as it felt that the air was sucked out of my lungs and a church belfry was ringing in my ears.

I could hear men screaming in pain but I could not make out the words through the ringing. I leaned to my left to check on the man next to me, there was a huge cavity in the top of his head where a massive piece of shrapnel had torn through it. I had seen many corpses in my time but the open skull cavity mixed with the reverberating pain all through my body caused me to vomit.

It didn’t take long for more shells to start bursting over our heads sending dirt, blood, and bodies into the air. My mind and sight began to go black just as someone grabbed onto the back of my collar and dragged me from the wall.


The shells weren’t what woke me up, it was my tooth, a bloody shattered tooth that I tried to swallow and choked on. I shook awake coughing up blood and the tooth.

I felt confused, my vision was shaky. And even though my mouth was closed I could feel air and dust entering my mouth. I lifted my hands to my face and felt the torn flesh of my right cheek dangling down. I wiggled my tongue to the side and felt the splintered bases of my back right molars.

I looked about my surroundings and saw a wall of blue on all sides. My men had formed square around the flag. I struggled to get up but stopped as a hand pressed on my shoulder. My ears were still ringing and everything else was a mess of explosions, and gunfire, but a voice fought its way through the chaos and it said

“Captain, stay down! I still need to patch up that cheek.” It was 1st Platoon’s medic, Cpl Harlow. “Do you understand me sir?” He shouted over the fire, shaking my shoulder.

I nodded in response.

   “Good now sit still,” He said opening his medical bag. He retrieved a square bandage, and a bottle of whisky from it. He doused the bandage in the whisky, before pressing one hand on the top of my head and using the other to put the bandage on my face, which stung harder than a Brakian wasp.

I tried to curse at the pain but Harlow had a tight enough grip on my head that I couldn’t move.

“Nice try sir, but I’m not letting you make this hole any bigger,” He said with a chuckle, “Now hold onto the bandage and don’t let it move.”

I tried to nod but again I couldn’t do to Harlow’s death grip. So I just complied and put my fingers on the bandage holding it on my face.

Harlow pulled a small roll of bandages from the medical bag and wrapped the bandages around tightly to keep the central one in place.
“Alright sir, you should be good to go,” He said letting go of the top of my head, and then rushing over to another wounded trooper.

I stood up and assessed the situation. The walls of Invictus had been overrun and the courtyard was now host to a brawl with bayonets, swords, knives, fists, and anything else that could be used as a weapon. First Platoon had formed square around the flag as I had noticed before and were firing at the walls where Merchant troops were pouring over in a wave of black uniforms.

Lieutenant Jackson, our company’s youngest officer at only 17 years old, turned back to the wounded and saw me. He came up to me smiling wide, though his eyes were filled with fear.

“Good to see you up sir, we’re holding our position as best as we can, but we’ve taken heavy losses.” He reported with a salute.

“Alright, where is Danny?” I asked looking around the chaotic bloodbath.

Jackson’s eyes grew dark and he took his kepi off.

   “Lieutenant Sotiris is dead sir, in fact all of the platoon commanders are dead aside from you and I sir.” He said biting his lip angrily.

   “So you’ve been commanding the entire company?”

He nodded yes.

I put my hands on Jackson’s shoulders feeling him shake as if he were out in the cold without a jacket.
   “Jackson....” I said, the shaking suddenly stopped “Good lad, now let’s get back to work.”

The look in Jackson’s eyes changed they weren’t fearful anymore, no they were confident.
Jackson shook his head, we both drew our revolvers from our holsters and turned to the front to command our men.
   “Fusiliers!” He shouted, the men turned to Jackson and saw that their Captain was back in the fight, I could see their expressions change from somber to joyous. “For the Empress!” I roared.

“Huzzah!” They replied.
I took my position, said a quick silent prayer to Uriel, and then aimed my revolver at a Merchant soldier who was trying to bayonet one of my men fighting in the courtyard in the back.

I squeezed the trigger and watched the enemy soldier fall to the ground screaming and clutching the smoking hole in her stomach where blood was now gushing out.

 I shifted my aim to an enemy officer who was encouraging his men from the top of the north wall. I squeezed the trigger again feeling the adrenaline rush as the officer dropped like a rock.

As the men on the West side of the square were reloading four enemy soldiers tried to rush them with bayonets. I stepped over and shot three of them and finished the last one off by throwing a rifle like a spear into his head the bayonet caving his face in.

I reloaded, making sure to call out encouragements to the men, then again carefully took aim and shot down more of the enemy, making each bullet count.

I repeated this process again, and again, until my cartridge box was empty. I checked my revolver and saw I had three rounds left. So I holstered it and drew my saber.

I asked the men how much ammunition they had left, it seemed most of them were on their last four rounds at most.

Our numbers in the courtyard were dwindling as well, so I made the call to prepare to advance on my trench whistle.

The platoon in square prepared to charge, and the men already engaged in the melee fought harder than they had before as if tapping into a reserve of energy that they’d never used before.

I looked to Jackson and said
“Jackson, I want you to stay here with a squad to defend the wounded and the colours, defend this spot to the death, no matter what happens you hold this position.”

Jackson nodded and went back to a squad of men and told them their orders.

I turned my attention back to my task.

“For the Empress! And the Eclenian Empire, Charge!!” I shouted before vaulting over one of the dirt walls and charging straight for an enemy soldier and slicing his back wide open.

The Merchant troops were surprised at the sudden charge and faltered, some even turned and ran before being cut down by their own comrades.

My men followed close behind following my lead. I charged another enemy infantryman, swinging my sword down but he blocked narrowly escaping death, I looked him in the face and saw that my opponent was a youth who couldn’t be more than 16.

 I grabbed him by the lapel and pulled him close, kneeing him in the crotch, he puked on me and dropped his rifle. With my sword free I dropped the boy to the ground and moved on but looked back and saw the poor lad getting trampled in the mud.

 My momentary distraction almost killed me as two more enemies sprinted at me. I knocked one of their rifles to the side which tripped the other, I quickly dispatched them with a couple of slashes of my saber.

A gruesome mist of arterial spray and bits of flesh rose into the air obscuring the clash as we fought our way forward. It became hard to tell friend from foe as everyone’s uniforms were drenched in blood.

The ground was completely covered in bodies and it was hard to not trip on them, many were wounded squirming around trying to find safety.

As we continued I noticed something, we were winning. The north wall of Invictus which was at the start a good 40 yards away, but by this point we had pushed the Merchants back 30 yards.

“We’re giving them a good thrashing lads, keep it up and soon we’ll retake the walls!”

The Merchants were starting to break and some tried to surrender but they were cut down by both sides.

I watched one girl just break down crying and drop to the ground in the fetal position. We pushed them all the way to the firestep where we stabbed them into the wall.

I slashed an officer’s neck open, which turned on a fountain of red mist which rained down on us.
The men cheered as the enemy climbed up over the walls trying to retreat, only to fall back down onto the firestep as the enemy artillery fired canister shot to stop the ‘cowards’ from making a bad example.

It was at that moment I noticed the machine gun that had been rolled up the west wall.

Time seemed to slow as the gunner pulled back the charging handle and opened fire slaughtering anyone and everyone in the courtyard.

Bullets tore through us like a knife through paper. I felt two hit me, one in the left shoulder and another in the right thigh.

I fell to the ground atop the many other corpses all around and stared into the red evening sky. I heard more gunfire and then the machine gun suddenly stopped firing.

I struggled to drag myself over to the wall to sit up. Jackson and two other riflemen had rushed out and saved a few of us by the looks of it as I saw the machine gunners dead at their post.

“Captain!” He exclaimed when he spotted me. He started to rush over to me. But then I saw enemy infantry rushing over the south wall, I tried to call out to Jackson but I choked and couldn’t speak.

 I tried to wave but by the time I did it was too late. Jackson stopped cold as the shining point of a bayonet pierced through his chest. He coughed up blood and fell to his knees before being kicked to the ground by the soldier who had stabbed him.

I cried out coughing hard as I did, tears rolled down my cheeks and I felt a great burning pain in my heart.

 Though my shoulder was practically shattered, I summoned up the strength to draw my revolver from its holster. I screamed with rage as I emptied my revolver into the soldier who had stabbed Jackson.

 I crawled as fast as I could to Jackson ignoring the pain as best as I could. I almost reached him before a boot stomped on my back stopping me.

I looked up and saw two enemy officers standing over me and Jackson with victorious smirks on their faces.
“Major, I think we found the enemy Captain,” one of them said with a thick Escarian accent.

I looked past the enemy officers and saw a man in an ornate Escarian Major’s dress uniform calmly walk across the body-strewn courtyard as if he were on a morning stroll, occasionally stopping to direct a soldier’s bayonet at a wounded soldier squirming on the ground.

   As he reached us the first thing I noticed was his perfectly clean uniform in contrast to the dust covered and bloodstained uniforms of his two subordinates.

   “Deal with that.” He said pointing at Jackson,

   “No don-!” I was cut off as one of the enemy officers drew his pistol and shot Jackson a couple of times.

   “Now, that that’s dealt with,” He said putting on his gloves. “Captain how about you and I have a nice chat.” He walked over, rolled me over with his boot, and crouched down, to pull me up by my tunic. He had dark eyes and a big bushy handlebar mustache, and his breath stunk of cigar smoke.

   “Screw, you Escarian trash,” I managed to say before spitting blood into his face.

He took one of his hands off of me to retrieve his handkerchief  and wipe off his face.

   “Now that was rather rude, Captain, I would expect better from an officer of the Eclenian Fusiliers,” he said with disappointment in his voice. “I suppose I can forgive you since you’ve spent the past few hours butchering these poor Merchant Republican fools. Honestly I’ve seen children from Escaria fight with more bravery than these, these sheep,” He said this with false pity in his voice.
“Now onto the business at hand, I heard, from a reliable source that your company was assigned to escort the young Princess to the port so that she can, I don’t know go off into hiding on some remote island, in the middle of nowhere. So my question dear Captain is simple. Where is the dear princess, so that I can get her on her way to that island. Of course I’m referring to the island in the clouds where her eternal fate will be decided, but I’d say our goals are close enough that we can make a mutual agreement,” He paused for a moment waiting for me to respond. “I promise that my men will not defile her in anyway and they will make her death as quick and painless as possible,” He paused again waiting for me to respond. “Are your injuries to severe for you to speak anymore?” He asked impatiently.

I smiled and looked him in the eye and said.
“The princess is already, long gone.”

The Major smiled as well, “Well then if you could direct me to where you buried her body, that would be helpful, I’d love to have it returned to her mother in the Capital.”

Even though it hurt like the devil I laughed hard at his reply.

   “Now what is so funny Captain, I hate to be ignorant of something comedic.”

   “It’s hilarious that you’re so sure that the princess is here Major. The truth is the Princess is far from this graveyard, she is by this point on a ship on her way to the South. So all I can say is that you are by far the least observant officer I have ever had the pleasure of killing.” I said letting go of the spoon of the grenade I’d grabbed hold of earlier.

   “Grenade!” One of the Escarian officers yelled before shoving the Major out of the way and jumping on top of me and the grenade.


The grenade went off killing both Captain Karlton, and the Escarian Lieutenant. Major Larue who was enraged that his uniform had been dirtied drew his pistol, screamed with rage and emptied a ten round magazine into the two dead officers on the ground, before straightening his jacket, putting his hat back on, and wiping the bloody mud off of the side of his trousers.

“Sir, do you have any orders about the bodies?” Larue’s subordinate Captain Forestier asked nervously.

“Behead the Eclenian loyalists and pile the heads around that flagpole.” He said pointing at the flagpole in the center of the fort, “strip the bodies of equipment and burn them. Let the Merchant sheep do what they will with their dead, and make sure that arrangements are made to ship our dead back to Escaria.”

“And the wounded?”

“Kill anyone who cannot walk on their own.”

“Does that include our men sir?”

“Leave our badly wounded with the locals, the medical corps should come around sooner or later to take care of them. Make sure that the sheep don’t see it. We don’t want to lose their trust,” Larue said calmly.
“Of course sir,” Lieutenant Forestier replied with a salute, before heading off to carry out his orders.

Major Larue looked down at the dead Eclenian Captain with a look of disgust on his face before spitting on the corpse and walking out of the dirt hole the Eclenians had defended to the last man. He saw a dead musician still clutching his drum, he saw the other dead Eclenian soldiers who lay where they fell, and he saw the bullet hole ridden Eclenian battle flag fluttering in the cool evening breeze.

As much as Larue hated Eclenians, he couldn’t help but respect these soldiers who had defended this spot as if they were defending a member of the Imperial family. A ploy which had caused Larue to besiege this place for four days. He had been truly convinced that the Princess of Eclen was here. 

He cursed the Eclenian Captain, before climbing over the walls of the redoubt and heading back to his encampment.

Hope you enjoyed reading this if you have any thoughts or suggestions, feel free to reply to the thread. Hope you all have a nice day  :thumbsup:

break Room / Do any of you listen to music when you write or draw?
« on: June 10, 2016, 04:24:44 AM »
As a writer I'm usually inspired by a few things, the things that give me the most ideas are usually movies, video games, anime series or movies, and most of all music! The novel I started working on 3 years ago (and have yet to finish even the first draft of thanks to a few different factors) was inspired by a single song. That being sumo productions Women's suffrage cover of Lady Gaga's Bad Romance! So when I write my stories I'll generally listen to different kinds of music for varying different reasons. Sometimes I'll listen to one type of music because of what's going on in the scene I'm writing, for instance almost a year ago now I wrote an action scene while listening to DMX X Gon Give it Ya, which I'll admit I discovered through the Deadpool trailer. Truth be told if you read a couple of my stories and then I gave you a jumbled up playlist of songs I listened to while writing the story you could probably put it back in order pretty quickly.

So I'm just wondering what you guys listen to while you write or draw and if you pick the music you listen to based on what you're working on!  ;D

Alright I have a couple of story ideas that I've come up with recently.

Story 1, The Fortress of Corpses.

Setting: The Vietnam War.

Plot: 1968 The US military is trying to find and destroy the Ho Chi Minh trail, The story picks up with a Platoon of US army infantrymen a force of a little more than 60 men. Among them is Takezo Noburu a Japanese Citizen who is in the US army. One day orders come in for Takezo's unit to head out on a search and destroy mission. The soldiers loaded up into Huey's and flew into Laos where they landed in an LZ and went into the jungle. As it turned out the intel that was the basis for the mission was leaked on purpose to draw in US troops. They fell for it and when Takezo's platoon arrived at the coordinates for where the enemy weapons cache was supposed to be they were lit up on all sides by Vietnamese machine gunners and other small arms fire. The Platoon ended up having to take cover in a ditch that's 30 feet long 15 feet wide and about a foot and a half deep. All 60 of them and as more men got killed the troopers piled the corpses up on top of the ditch to use as human sandbags. Hence the title the fortress of corpses The only reinforcements the platoon receives is a LRRP team that was already stranded in Laos. The story encompasses the firefight that lasted for 15 days and nights. In the end only 6 men walked away from the Fortress alive.


LRRP Team members

Corporal Mason Midgley
Black, From Georgia. Squad M79 Grenadier

Sergeant Freddy Parrish
White, From Southern California. Squad Leader

Corporal Lawrence Castleton
White, From Pennsylvania. Squad RTO

Corporal Zack (Doc) Lorins
White Italian, From New York, Squad Medic

Private First Class Chris (Santa) Peterson
White Irish, From New Hampshire, Rifleman

Private First Class John Gonzalez.
Hispanic, From Texas, M60 gunner


Private Takezo Noburu
Japanese, Born in Japan, lives in San Francisco, Rifleman
(Takezo is the MC of this story, but I have another story that more closely follows the LRRP team members already)

Corporal Robert (Father Grunt) Wulf
White, From Massachusetts, Catholic Chaplain

The second story idea so far has two names the first is called "The Third Option" The other title is called "The Writer's Wraith."

Plot synopsis, A writer dies in a car crash and finds himself in a dark room with two doors in front of him, A red door and a white door. But there is also a beautiful woman with streaming white hair wearing a tattered black cloak, she gives the writer a third option to be reborn into one of his own works of fiction, the only catch is he doesn't know which one he's going to and he soon finds himself in the boots of a cameo appearance he made for himself as a British Tommy in one of his popular WW1 stories.

Anyways your thoughts and opinions are much apreciated hope you like my ideas  :dance:

break Room / A Forum wide story! manga or otherwise?
« on: June 03, 2016, 06:49:34 PM »
I just came up with a crazy idea!. I am very new to this forum and I'm new to forums in general but I just thought of something that could be very cool. I mean this may have been thought of before but what the hell why not do it anyway. How about the entire community here chips in to write and maybe even illustrate a story! The characters in it could be versions of our own online user names and persona's that we put out there on the internet. Or it could be something completely different I don't know I was just doing work and I thought of it so I thought I should put it out here in the break room. :noidea:

Develop Your Story / Archangel Uriel: The Rise of the Crimson Angels
« on: June 02, 2016, 12:50:34 AM »

I'm a writer who's been working on a few different works but my main piece I've been working on for about 5 months now and from like day 4 I knew that I wanted to make it a manga. Here's a summary of it.

The story takes place in the modern day in a world where Angels, Devils, Fallen Angels, Vampires, Werewolves and many other fantastical species exist. God and Lucifer  have been "dead" for about 2,000 years (which ended the war between them) and God has left his Archangels in charge of heaven (More specifically Michael is the top dog) and Lucifer has let the Devils rule themselves in their various families. In general the two species maintain the balance between light and dark in the world. Just one catch Fallen Angels are throwing the balance off which is hurting both Angels and Devils, and what hurts them hurts humanity. The main protagonist is the Archangel Uriel, who is nothing like what you'd think an Angel would be. He is followed by his best friend and partner The Sword Saint and Tengu Miyamoto Musashi.

Now I know that there are many other series that use Angels and Devils as the heroes and villains but the details of this story are actually very cool. But that's not why I'm here. I really want to bring my story to life with visuals but I have never been able to do any visual art for the life of me. I also know that there are people who are good artists who can't write for the life of them so I'd be happy to have a sort of I scratch your back you scratch mine kind of arrangement. I'm also always open to coming up with an entirely new story with an artist because I know the kind of personal connection one forms with a story idea and it is always better to have been apart of the development of the story and the characters rather than just do the work to illustrate or write it. Thank you for reading to my unbelievably long post and I hope you have a good day no matter who you are.

PS I hope this follows all of the rules, feel free to tell me how to do this better  ;D 

Welcome Center / New guy in the corner of the room
« on: May 15, 2016, 12:52:38 AM »
Hello there Manga Raiders. my handle is Fortis Scriptor. I'm a writer who is trying to expand his horizons. I'm someone in the process of writing a novel which I have no intent of making into a manga, though that might be a fun thing to see done. I am fairly new to anime. I'll admit I'm a filthy peasant who has not read a single manga (aside from the basis ideas of the two original works that I am hoping to make manga's.) I have also dabbled in fan fiction writing. In regards to what brought me to the sight, well I'm here looking for some cool people to hang out with and also hopefully a few artist friends to possibly work on some collaborations with. I always love a partner in crime. I'm also always open to helping out fellow writers, I can be a ghost writer if you need one, a friend to talk about plot ideas and friendly criticism, or a cold hearted editor who shows no mercy.  Oh and one other thing I do is I'm a voice actor a novice but it's still something I enjoy. So here I am looking forward to getting to know some kindred spirits of writing and love for anime/manga.  ;D PS Please forgive my horrifying grammar sins in this little introduction of me.   :D

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