Sworded Tales

Cheskith had settled back somewhat from the fire to eat, the better to allow others access to the ready meal. He wasn’t rushing to the same extent as Kurn, though, and thus had to interrupt his only partially finished dining to attend to this new question.

“The watches, they have been settled? If this is as yet undone, then I would prefer the first, I think, but can settle for any,” he spoke, addressing whomever seemed to have been drawn to the topic.

Gathering from the looks around the camp that they had not yet been settled, and not wanting it to be a long drawn-out discussion of merits — a discussion that could readily cut into everyone’s needed rest for the day ahead — Kurn nodded tersely to Cheskith’s statement and looked to everyone else, “Fine; any other preferences?” Continue reading

“The hierarchy of the Purification has yet to reveal itself,” Erellia responded, “Though I suspect their primary dealings are intertwined with one of the darker gods.  A reduction in arcane energies throughout the lands would certainly give more sway to those who wield the blessings of their deity.  Several encounters have been reported where priests have been seen among the ranks of the hunters, though whether that is coincidence or collaboration is uncertain.”

She fell silent for a moment in thought.  “The sheer potency of the hunters’ fanaticism is also quite disturbing.  Rarely have I ever seen such single minded determination.  Once an individual joins the Purification, they seem to lose something of themselves to the whole.”

Then more quietly she added, “Which is why no one has yet been able to successfully infiltrate their ranks.” Continue reading

Rôhn’s eyes widened and affixed on the glistening green jewel, appraising it.  His jaw slackened and his tongue lolled, loosening its vice on the stem of his pipe, which rested on his dried and cracking bottom lip and would have fallen to the ground had the pipe bowl not been perched upon his fingertips.

“Oooohhhhhh….” he muttered as his eyes sparkled in time with the glistening of the jade amidst a shroud of slowly rising smoke billowing from the burning leaf. Continue reading

My goal was maintenance of a blog for a year, full time.  In so doing, I wished to digitize many of the written elements of my gaming past as both reminiscence and inspiration for future endeavors.  That year has come and gone, swifter days with each setting sun as age foretells.  I find it hard to believe that this step in the journey is complete.  The task seemed insurmountable at the beginning, a looming monstrosity of time.  Though time can be a fickle beast, prioritizing can usually whip it into shape.  One day, one post, one word at a time.

I will continue to post on Sworded Tales, but my pace will be more motivational and lower on the list of priorities for now.  New challenges move into the limelight and new adventures await.  We shall see where these new roads lead, and whether the journeys favor the path of shadow or that of song.

“Come along you sanctimonious nag,” Qualen Findrow said to the obstinate horse in his delightful sing-song tone.  There were those in the small town of Havenfork that whispered about Qualen’s facility with horses, that he had otherworldly powers.  He had poo-pooed such nonsense over his years of driver work, but he suspected that his ability to guarantee a timely delivery was all that kept him from being run off.

Mostly due to the Centaurs in the area.  Constant raids and bands of four-legged brigands interrupted trade routes all along the Savanche Coast.  Life was becoming increasingly unbearable for many of the inhabitants, but Qualen wasn’t one of them.  The Centaurs avoided him like the plague, and no one knew why. Continue reading

“Forgotten what?”  Gordon struggled to squeeze the words into reality.

“Your nature.”  The reply roared in his ears with deafening purpose.  His mind, his memories were scathed by the simplicity of the world around him.  The complexion of all life evolved from a single instant.  That conception had a guardian. Continue reading

The clarity of the clearing was what struck Anibel first, when all else had been fragmented and fuzzy since her fall.  She could see that sea of chaos in the offing, but it was being held at bay.  Standing stones rose from the lucid terrain, and she sensed that the carved sentinels were what created this sanctuary.

Figures emerged from behind the stones.  Anibel remained still as they approached.  Twice her size, no distinct gender was evident as they drew closer.  She could see no raiments upon their glowing frames, but the ghostly outline of weapons materialized.  She grew concerned for her current well-being at the sight. Continue reading

“We’ve talked about this,” Andi said, “How unhealthy this kind of dieting can be.  Yes, you’re getting results, but you’d be so much better off making–”

“A lifestyle change,” Carl finished, “Yes, I know.  Thing is, I like my lifestyle.  It’s more about exerting control though.  About proving a point.”  He stopped talking then.  Not because he had finished his train of thought, but because the smell of freshly baked cookies assailed him.  He almost choked on his spit and he swallowed the thick gobs with a click. Continue reading