Sworded Tales

Naros is a retired gladiator who now offers his services as caravan guard, metal worker and man-at-arms in general.  Over four decades in age, the weathered human still insures competent abilities despite the absence of an arm and an eye.  Children of the marketplace often marvel at the tinkerer’s facility to work metal with the unusual tools he would attach to the stump of his arm.  Surly and wise, Naros does not discuss his past but enjoys the pleasures of the moment as life permits.  Opportunity to travel with adventurers are few and far between, and the old salt would be honored to assist an adventuring group in any fashion he is able.

Naros suffered an extremely brief and violent career as a gladiator, falling victim to treachery surrounding a nefarious love triangle with a woman above his station.  He has a tendency to overindulge in drink when his old injuries pain him and to stem the tide of haunts which surface in his dreams, causing him to thrash about in his sleep.  The man’s motivations for seeking to travel stem from a sizable gambling debt he has incurred with some notorious locals.

Armed with little more than a length of dagger and his panoply of stump attachments, Naros’ eyes are often turned to the road, though his gaze is often focused on the past.

Hard Lessons Augury

I

A mix of stink, a bowl of pries, scents and flavors aswirl.
A lesson to be taught, a secret undone, Kathy’s past begins to unfurl.
Within the great cloth a chyld, tries to pretend that she can hide.
Without her key, the door remains closed, locked by her own foolish pride.

The first step is the box and the secret it holds, so big and juicy and sweet.
The horror and fear, when she finds it missing, such a deliciously tasty treat.
The shadow violates the purity, of her stately princess’ tower.
Then grasps the prize with a wicked smile, and plucks it like a flower.

These roots run deep, the memory is strong, this thread begins to quiver.
A message, an omen, a shard finds Kathy and suddenly makes her shiver.
A hasty retreat with just enough time for a name on a nearby post.
When Kathy sees it, jaw dropping open, she’ll turn as white as a ghost. Continue reading

Though Gudrun easily passes for Human, there appears to have been a splash of Orc blood somewhere in his bloodline.  A bridging forehead dominates his face, and sleepy eyes do little to improve the challenged appearance of the young man. The gentle giant tends to be a little slow with his mental faculties, but he possess an intuitive touch with most animals he care takes and manifests a genuine interest in embracing the cause of good.

Gudrun’s mother was a midwife who served faithfully for the local Luck shrine from time to time until she recently died from natural causes.  Gudrun’s only known family, the church has been looking for a means to place the saddened man who suddenly finds himself at a great loss for purpose. Continue reading

Beware dearest friend
Don’t push your luck
Come one step closer
And you’re a dead duck
‘Cause you just never know
You might not see
Falling right on top of you
The branch of a tree.

Some Lucky Charms
In your belly will warm
To strengthen your arms
and keep you from harm. Continue reading

Cobbled together from four different dolls I plucked from a thrift shop bin, Cora came to life as Cyndi’s chimerical companion. Her notorious behavior begat legends throughout the game neighborhood of a living doll that would give Chucky cause to blush.

The game concluded over a decade ago, and I still have Cora.  This is her, sitting on a jar of broken glass….. Continue reading

Window

We like playing with fire
Without getting burned
Should we continue our rescue
Or safely return?

The Robyn Flown

It seems forever we have been seeking
This girl named Robyn with balefire in her soul
Day after day I’m looking and peeking
Yet, now we are so close to our final goal.

We now have the song the Robyn must sing
All of the pieces are falling into place
The fate of Dan continues, string by string
All stories coming together at a furious pace. Continue reading

Mischief

Bats fly by day
Bats fly by night
Giving the team
Another fright

Tensions are high
Strung too tight
Won’t be long
Before there’s a fight.

Search

Brothers and sisters, sisters and brothers
Almost complete, yet seeking another
Fire and water, water and fire
Opposites attracting, our need is dire. Continue reading

Trimba’s antler touch thrummed with the sky currents.  The invisible seas were in tidal shift and promising the song of life tears.     Such did not shed hope on shortening the following.  His lifeblood resonated further as his long neck swept down to read the passage of flesh among the tasty-blades.  The great stag’s nose twitched, sorting the decay variants and assessing the hoof strides until they ran with the prey.  A snort-sneeze erupted from him, and a shake of the rack set the scent right.

“I know, lad,” an ancient hand rested upon the muscled shoulder of venison, “Rain is coming, and the daylight hints at bedtime sooner than we’d like.  I say we still have a chance though.  The rock pass is in our favor.” Continue reading

On a horse or played as a game
These shoes won’t bring you luck
Try hanging them above a door frame
But make sure they’re pointed straight up.

Luck of the draw
Put your hand in the sack
Consider yourself lucky
If you get it all back. Continue reading

Within the gargantuan walls of the city of Cartomfe, most children would say that they dreamt of knighthood or the aristocracy or adventure, anything more thrilling than the mundane pursuits which consume the lives of the average commoner.  Ira Burstan was one of the select few who carried the pragmatic gene which would shape his youth well into adulthood.  For as long as he could remember, Ira wanted nothing more than to own and serve as innkeeper at the Bear and Tusk Inn along Cartomfe’s main thoroughfare. Continue reading