Archive for "Stories"
To Cleave the Stone
"The wind of the ether is a bilious one," intoned Lady Dargon, her unbound tresses feathering across her bare shoulders. She sat cross-legged on a mat of woven rushes, her hands held palm up toward the night sky. "Turgid the magic flows." She turned to one of her attendants. "Bring me the dragon’s blood!" "Yes, mistress!" the young woman said, getting to her feet. The cold night air drew gooseflesh across her naked thighs. She hurried across the cold stone floor, ...
Ol Tamboch Narhin, Thread 4: Shaping Moonglow
Art is the communication of an idea from one to another. Everyone creates art just by giving voice to their own thoughts, though few see simple conversation in that light. Art requires inspiration, and that can come from anywhere: the song of a bird, the sparkle of light reflected from water, the scent of fresh-baked bread, the fruity taste of a well-fermented wine, the silky feel of the fur of a kitten. The forms that inspiration takes can vary greatly: ...
And Two Steps Back
"The recruits look good this batch," Kalen Darklen mumbled to the man next to him. The other officer looked from the new additions to the watch and to his superior. "Straight." He hesitated a moment but then continued, "Captain, you know that you don't have to be here any longer. You've given your speech and the rest is mostly for the families of the recruits. I don't mean to question the way you do things but, don't you have a few ...
Five Days in Winter Part 2
The early morning sun shining through a cloudless sky fell upon a hillside overlooking Leavenfell Keep. Fresh snow covered the hillside and a cold wind blew from the east carrying ice crystals from the bay where the keep was located. A murder of crows perched in barren oak trees huddled together for warmth. A flash of blue-violet light, brighter than the sunlight for just an instant, flared on the hillside. The crows took flight, voicing their disapproval at ...
Ol Tamboch Narhin, Thread 3: Schooling
All magic is the same and springs from one of only two sources: the natural world or the divine. Yes, yes, I'm sure you've been told different. Believe me, and I'm in a position to know, what you've been told is wrong. It is true that every single magic worker, from the conjurer with more than nimble fingers helping her trick the gullible to the most puissant magus with his world-shaping spells, uses magic differently. Everyone approaches magic differently, ...
Five Days in Winter – Part 1
Early one Mertz morning Tobey ran along a path following a frozen stream, leaping over fallen trees and snow covered gnarled roots with grace and ease. The tops of massive pine trees reached high into the sky while their lower branches, covered with snow, scraped the ground. White oaks, their limbs barren of leaves, slept while waiting for the warm spring sun to wake them. Unlike winter, childhood passes quickly. Tobey's thirteenth naming day would be soon and ...
Ol Tamboch Narhin, Thread 2: Another Genesis
Complex stories never have just one beginning. Like a tapestry, threads of actions weave in and out of the background of circumstances, bringing patterns of results to the surface of the finished product. So it is with Ol Tamboch Narhin. No, my friend, I have no intention of trying to detail every beginning that goes into this tapestry. Neither of us have as long as that would take. But you need to know the important inceptive elements. Once ...
Love As Bitter As Honey
The air in the Rogue and Quiver was warm and fragrant. Oil lanterns threw a flickering orange light across the walls, and the red coals in the hearth added their own hue. The men inside wore carefree faces as the bard sang his song, a bawdy and unflattering rendition of 'Untar’s Demise'. The old man behind the bar was tending to a couple that had just arrived. It was a typical workaday evening in the port city of Dargon, winding ...
Justin Time
Bren kel Tomas was a well-known swordsman. Young and energetic, he had cunning as well as speed. He could be great on a battlefield. Somehow, he had seen little action against the Beinison in the previous war, perhaps because he was not Baranurian by birth. But his pedigree had lent him status, his sword arm had given him a reputation, and he was now Duke Dargon's personal weapons trainer. He was also standing opposite me, ...
Shattered Dreams
"I think we can save the causeway!" Gilvelle Marser, Dargon's Master Architect, slapped his palm onto his desk to punctuate this joyous statement. He looked up from the plans he had been studying. "Cephas' Boot, Adjarn! All we need to do is ..." Sard Rilius, his new chief mason, only stared at him with sullen eyes. Gilvelle felt his cheeks redden as he realized what he had just done. "I-- I'm sorry, Rilius," he said. "I didn't mean --" "It doesn't matter, sir," ...