1. 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...
  2. 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...
  3. 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...
  4. 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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