Sworded Tales

With the arrival of the horses and riders, though he wonders if the wild one should be described as a being that happens to be on a horse rather than a rider, the scribe puts up his book and pen.  Closing the chest, he places the vessel on his back and picks up his shield, walking toward the group.

After looking at the lizardman, dwarf and human, he gives the matron a glance and a smile.  “On the eve of the Spring Equinox.  Not that you can tell,” he says by way of greeting, glancing skyward and pulling his hood over his head. Continue reading

The reptilian figure takes an involuntary step back as the horse rears out of control, then again as it begins to buck and whirl about.  The situation certainly does not present an immediate threat, but such a large beast moving about so erratically is hardly something to take lightly.

Then a realization dawns on him.  There is only one similar circumstance that he has seen such as this, and the connection is all too obvious to make.

“You have, I see, brought with you a performer of a circus?” he asks, though he keeps his wary attention on the spectacle. Continue reading

A taciturn male Dwarf looks up with a start at the approach of the lone reptilioid.  Following his riding partner’s lead, the cloaked he tugs on the reigns, albeit a bit too fiercely.  The horse rears up on its hind legs as the Dwarf stifles a yelp, clinging to the reigns with all the strength in his stunted hands.  His stomach slides onto the saddle with his feet still in the stirrups, causing his buttocks to protrude perpendicular from the steed’s back in a most undignified position.

As gravity bears the Dwarf’s full weight down on the reigns, the horse rose ever higher, kicking its front hooves.  Ancient, inscrutable commands issue forth toward the animal, as the Dwarf flails his stirrupped feet.  The horse continues to canter backward on its hind legs, whinnying wildly. Continue reading

A lone traveler garbed in hooded dark green comes riding into view around the bend.  As the rider gets closer to the bridge, the man pulls back his hood from his bald head to better see the place to which he was summoned.

Examining the workers as they place stones in the bridge and looking around at other travelers at hand, the man dismounts, strapping a medium sized chest onto his back and pulling a covered shield from where it hangs on the saddle.  Going around to the front of the animal, he pulls an apple out of his pocket and feeds it to the horse.

“Thank you, good fellow.  I appreciate the ride,” the rider says quietly as the apple disappears while he pets the beast. Continue reading

A Shadow of Hope was a PBEM game I ran for several years with a host of different players and characters.  I have always wanted to edit the shared content into a contiguous storyline and have decided to do so here.  I look forward to revisiting the tale which was such a pleasure to tell, and am grateful beyond words to those who contributed their considerable time and creative muse to breathe life into the characters.

A Shadow of Hope

“Watch to yer port `dar, ya fool!”

The cry of alarm rings out across the swollen breadth of the Winding Water river, sending a sputtering flock of wings skyward from a grove of trees along the far shoreline. Muttering curses follow as the four polemen lean heavily on the weathered lengths of wood which serve to steer the sizable barge bearing them down the frigid runoff waters.

The barge rides dangerously low in the current, responding sluggishly to the efforts of the fur clad men. Seven tremendous blocks of quarried granite rest at the center of the float, restraining straps creaking against the sheer weight of the endeavor. The barge finally turns in a slow arc along the swift current, causing only a mild thump as the outermost log glances off of a sinister rock peeking a few inches above the surface. The camouflaged fang, seeking to sink any floating prey and spelling a frozen doom for those who ride above, waits once more as the current sharpens its edge. Continue reading