Lore, Sagas

A Sage’s journal entry [archive].

Perhaps we Sages are not immune to the chitter chatter and spreading of stories we do not know. As the washer women and the drunks go on of sights they have never seen and voices they have never heard. Perhaps it is built into our race, our blood, our very being to spread the stories of folk in every place far flung about the world that we enjoy for a moment to tell each other stories. Stories unseen in any tome or history recorded by the hands of our kind. Continue reading “A Sage’s journal entry [archive].”

Lore, Sagas, Scenic, Weekend

The yellow fox and the Clúanaire [archived].

Of the many things in the world to which one should be made aware, there are some, rare and half forgotten which should never fade from memory. They live and linger near and far from folk of every walk of life regardless of whose banner their land falls under. Only the Sages know for certain, but outside them it is almost lost to the noise of new importance. Until trials and tribulation come as can be seen in the land of Roves. Continue reading “The yellow fox and the Clúanaire [archived].”

Lore, Sagas, Scenic, Short story

The wilds [archive].

The wild men of the woods are always looked down upon and left in the great nowhere of deep forests far from the lives of villagers. And even further from city dwellers. They are the criminals cast out and banished from communal life. Effectively sentenced to death in these parts of the world. The forest is not an easy place to live alone at the best of times, let alone the harsher seasons. Continue reading “The wilds [archive].”

Sagas, Scenic, Weekend

The sky’s lights [archive].

When the dark of night holds fast the world and the sun so long away, the sky bears still light from above as it has for all of time. More than a single brilliant source that scatters shadows to hide from its light, this light comes to reveal itself more than anything else. Continue reading “The sky’s lights [archive].”

Lore, Sagas, Short story

As it was and is [archive].

They say that all which remains in this world is but a whisper of its former days. I’m often inclined to agree. Though there still remain such whispers, floundering upon the winds. Sometimes they gather in number, as in a valley, and like thunder, echo with such force that one is shaken to the bone. Continue reading “As it was and is [archive].”