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DargonZine 32-1 Editorial

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DargonZine 32, Issue 1

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Dargon is Doooooooooomed!! Sorry, I just had to get that out. We only published two issues last year. That's pretty bad. But things aren't as dark as they seem. It happens, every once in a while, that someone comes along and says “We’re doomed.”  We’re doomed if we don’t start making games.  We’re doomed if we don’t add cartoons.  We’re doomed if we don’t create videos.  Well, maybe someday we will be, but we’re not doomed yet.  This year, we are celebrating the ...

King’s Key Part 1

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DargonZine 32, Issue 1

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     As Ashe Leavenfell eased his aching body from the saddle, he wondered that a dead man could make him travel so far. His life was rarely what he expected. He'd grown up thinking he was to be the next baron of Leavenfell, only to learn that his brother Roderick was actually the heir. He was really happier not being baron, though it was his ass, and not Roderick's, that had been in the saddle and headed for Dargon for the last five days.      It was ...

A View From Above: The Ocean

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DargonZine 32, Issue 1

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  Simon awoke with a shock, then lay in his hammock for a long moment wondering what had awakened him. The warm island air smelled like smoke, sweat, and sea. Then it struck him ... he was alone. Ever since he had been marooned on the island days and days ago, there had always been at least one of the village children hanging about, day and night. Now he was alone in his hammock in the poor section of the great ...

Dargonzine 31-1 Editorial

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DargonZine 31, Issue 1

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One of the advantages of writing fiction in a medieval setting is the ability to know and understand all the technology in as much detail as you need. A quick Google search can reveal the secrets of making daub and wattle, or how to shoot a heading with an astrolab, or how to rig a sail, allowing the writer to use as much, or as little, technological detail in their writing as they desire. After all, the so-called "Dark Ages" ...

A View From Above: The Natives

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DargonZine 31, Issue 1

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Simon had been a simple deckhand when he first set sail from home. That ship, the Lilith, never sailed far out of sight of land, plying the local trade routes. After a while, Simon moved to a larger ship that sailed far out to sea, navigating by the stars. That ship had been chartered for a trading run to the tropics. The voyage took months and ended badly with the ship foundering and the crew in small boats. The ...

Port of Call – Dargon

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DargonZine 31, Issue 1

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   On New Year's Eve, my ship named the Breath of Cirrangill sailed into Dargon harbor with the early morning tide. That's right, my ship. Me, Percy Talador. I am the captain of my own ship. I wanted to name her the Curse of Cirrangill, but the priests wouldn't let me. The bounty I got from a recent salvage mission was enough for me to buy a small ship. She isn't much, just ...

Dargonzine 30-3 Editorial

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DargonZine 30, Issue 3

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  Charleston, South Carolina, in November. Magical. That’s all I can say. It’s not just the incredible history, or the ghost tours, or the food and drink, or the people – who are wonderful and happy to see you – it’s the atmosphere. There’s a palpable … something … here. Maybe it’s the fact that the city is over 300 years old (which might not impress our foreign readers, but for Americans … this place is ...

A Tale Of Dark Magic

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DargonZine 30, Issue 3

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Standing in the hallway outside of his study, Sandore watched a group of thieves looting his home. The leader of the thieves was his granddaughter, Leashea. She directed the thieves to ransack the second and third floors of his castle and gather his most prized belongings. Once they had everything they could move, Leashea shattered all the mirrors he used to travel to other places except for one. They took the stolen items with them when they left through the ...

Seeking The Stone

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DargonZine 30, Issue 3

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Gilvelle Marser, Dargon's master architect, woke to a throbbing pain in his skull. Each pulse threatened to push his eyes out from the inside. His mouth felt like he'd slept with a wool sock in it. From the taste, the sock had been on someone else's foot for at least a sennight. He tried to raise his head, but a fresh burst of agony made him think better of it. He put his hands to his head to try to ...

Dargonzine 30-2 Editorial

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DargonZine 30, Issue 2

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Well, it’s that time of year again – we just had our (sort of) annual Summit, which means I generally come back and write an editorial about the Summit. It’s easy, because I’ve got material ready at hand to discuss. The downfall is, it’s almost always the same: “I loved Summit, it was so great, it was awesome seeing everyone again and I got writing done!” Well … it’s true. I do love Summit. The ...