Sworded Tales

The lizardman threw a quizzical-looking glance toward the dark robed man as the human retreated somewhat from the gathering, acting as though he was far more chill than the rain alone could account for.

Sure enough, the Silveraen was curious about the situation; the fourth person to break away from the “silent stare” approach to introductions, but he’d backed off rather than joining in. The reptile couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts haunted that one… but resigned himself to the fact that this wasn’t an opportune moment to inquire.

Resolving to investigate the matter later, he swiftly returned his attention to the three-way exchange.

Erellia moved quietly about the canopy attending to minor details within the shelter and the small brazier that now burned with a welcoming light, a silent hostess to this most unusual gathering.  Nodding or smiling in gentle greeting, she welcomed each individual into the makeshift shelter as they approached. For those that offered, she would provide some small menial task to perform that would help add a relative state of comfort to the encampment. Overall however, she projected a sensation of tremendous patience and calm reserve, a typical trait of the long lived. There was a sense that she observed the interactions of the group with an almost purposeful delay in taking control of the situation. 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

Few experiences embody it as well as flying. This spoken by a land mammal. The sensation of coursing through the, air, above the clouds, ripples through the core with amazing terror.

One can only imagine the change in belief structure that must occur when flight is at your fingertips, or more likely, wingtips. Where the sky is indeed the limit and the fear of falling never sinks its primal teeth into delicate flesh, such freedom must convey a spatial rapture beyond reckoning.

I have flown in my dreams and not only were they some of the most memorable adventures, but they are also the ones I would relive most readily.

Something in Merinde’s timbre dug into Seravis’ resolve.  His tongue darted out to caress his lips with fervent need.

The hush of the hundreds of patrons was adding to the unnerving element, but the young man held his ground, sitting back once more with arms folded across his chest.  He twirled fingers at Merinde, indicating that the move was still hers.

“I should say, the Last Dance has been the most interesting, without a doubt,” she said, eyes dropping to the board once more, “I’m sure you will find such truth to be evident in very short order.”

Merinde picked up her final catwalker and set it down within striking distance of Seravis’ archelemental.  Her hand then returned to rest with practiced ease over the ring of keys. 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

The lizardman suddenly found the conversation growing to be three-way; though more complicated for him personally, it was a welcome transition from the stolid silence that had suffused the gathering at first.

Taking advantage of the pause in which Borlak seemed to be gathering his thoughts, the Silveraean turned his calm attention upon Rôhn; he had scrutinized the Dwarf well enough earlier during the debacle with the horse, and so had no need to narrow his own eyes in return.

“That meeting has become an honored part of our own history; the Dwarves have proven to be true allies since that day,” he replied.  The words weren’t what he might have chosen in other circumstances, but he’d been on the surface long enough to recognize and return the more formal style of speech that was often used there.  Still, recognizing that the situation couldn’t stand entirely on formality, he slipped a bit back towards his more customary cadence.  “One day shall I look upon this relief, perhaps?  It would be a happy thing to see, I think.” 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

The chain link junkyard behind the defunct ice house was his kingdom, and a wretched kingdom it was.  Forgotten hulks of metal nested in the wire grass, a pitted and pocked hive of mechanical leprosy.  Shattered shell fragments and crushed bone peppered the animal trails with the suggestion of long buried teeth.  The perimeter fence was little more than a memory of security.  The rusted tops of ivy laden chain link sagged several feet from the spindly array of barbed wire spanning above.

Some would call such a scene little more than a decrepit wasteland.  The groundhog called it paradise. 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

Until now.

Merinde sighed heavily and straightened up in her chair.  Her spine creaked its own discord, but she paid no mind to the aches and pains which conveyed memories of her past exploits.  Each was a story in itself, but those were tales she did not often revisit.  Too many ghosts.  Too much blood.  She took one more swig of liquor from the mug next to her and set the cup down upside down on the table to an array of gasps. Continue reading