1. Cellachán

    The Rt Hon the Lord von Bremen

    My dear friend, Lord von Bremen, I have never been so relieved as when Yvain informed me, once I was coherent enough to understand, that you yet live. I have also been told that one of your first acts upon waking was to enquire after my own wellbeing. Your concern touches me greatly, a...
  2. Cellachán

    Private Castles in the Sky

    CASTLES IN THE SKYA continuation of Reflections Time, in Cellachán’s opinion, is a funny old thing. It’s been three weeks since he arrived in Arpa. It didn’t even take him that long to get here from Cloud’s Keep: a few days by skyship into Crown’s Hold, and then a couple of weeks via the...
  3. J

    Private Relations, Yours & Mine

    Beneath the patter of the ongoing torrent and hoofbeats, the men were cursing. And for good reason, he had to admit, if only this once. There had always been plenty complaining no matter where they went and for how long, but this past week had been particularly rough. Everywhere was flooded and...
  4. Walter Thornley

    Private Reflections

    Days after the departure, the weather eased on the rain and gained in the harrowing, damp onslaught of the never-ending breeze. It rocked the tin weathervanes and whistled through the drafty creaks in the walls. All the same, the people seemed to greet this sort of weather with relief - with...
  5. Walter Thornley

    Private Thunder

    The weather was turning, into cloudy but relatively dry, and by the time the grey began to lighten in getting ready to meet the dawn, the clouds broke, letting the pale rays through the jagged fissure. They shone onto the cold moors, dry clumps of shrubbery and thin moss-grasses shivering under...
  6. Walter Thornley

    Private Tindercreek and Tillvale

    The afternoon shivered in collective dreary. Drizzle fell from the sky. A thick fog crept into the folds of the clothes, weighed them down with a chill. Today of all days in particular, the smell of old fires was wafting over from the end street east of the gate. Almost a month has passed since...
  7. Walter Thornley

    Private Stillwater

    It started with some commonfolk who went out to the swamps. Days before anyone noticed the dark patches. Days more until some of the Shieldbearers and a few Bremen men noticed the green-brown marks on their own skin, specks of mud at first then bruises, then spaces that felt too soft to the...
  8. Walter Thornley

    Open Surely we'll sing of no little thing

    They had the local brew, bitter and tan but the one that dried the skin with its intensity. They had the barley brew in caskets with the hoble house's colors, on ten wagons. The dusk was setting, and the most brave would have all night until dawn, because the next one might not come for them...
  9. Walter Thornley

    Open Future in the Fog

    1st of Griham, 351 E.O.D, Altalusia Marshlands. The padded drumming of the horse hooves rushed across the slick, sodden soil of the marshlands, sending frigid spatter up in quick spurts of gray and gold-flecked glitter. The sun struggled through the weighty clouds, its pallor shining in beams...
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