They call me Cloth!

Crisscrossed and tumbling over itself, the mostly sentient bulk lumbered its way through a wall and into the sewer canal. A mass of ambulatory garbage, bulging with the assorted detritus of much that was unmentionable, tracked a smear of someting gastly behind its form as it slid across the brickwork.One single thought drifted through the … Continue reading They call me Cloth! →

Up Round at the Tavern by the River’s Edge

A neat row of bottles stood proudly on their display shelf behind the bar of Dorrily river tavern.Locals who gossip in forever rounding circles of weather and fading memories, invariably wander towards the realm of drunken speculation as the night grows tired. What was the actual difference between a king’s pint and a double half-pint, … Continue reading Up Round at the Tavern by the River’s Edge →

A Letter for the Mountain Troll

‘Well that was unexpected.’ Long ago a fretful king watched as his borders diminished with the frailty of a waxless candle.Dreading the eventual destruction of his capital, the king panicked and chose to form a small group of mounted scouts, in hopes that a system of quickly delivered correspondence could allow him enough time to … Continue reading A Letter for the Mountain Troll →

The Jolly King

This article was originally published in the Carrick Joyce Gazette as a tribute to the 110th anniversary of King George’s passing. Today we remember King George Float-Stone, the jolly king who once ruled our fair nation so kindly. In the 110 years since his passing, the loss of our beloved king is still widely felt … Continue reading The Jolly King →

Aya and Carrick Part 4: Woodbrush tavern

Woodbrush tavern, a welcome respite tucked away somewhere along the scattered trails of the greater Firwood. The tavern, in some legends, is said to be a mythical bed and breakfast that will appear to many lost travellers in their greatest moments of need, these same legend tellers have also been accused of being unnecessarily melodramatic and … Continue reading Aya and Carrick Part 4: Woodbrush tavern →

Up round where old ghosts meet

Two men stood by the headstone of George Halthorpe as Autumn had begun to drop its leaves upon the hill. The day grew pale, casting a long shadow across the ground: blanketing old memories, allowing them rest.Beyond, the setting sun had lost the valley in shadow, small plumes of smoke wicked into the sky as … Continue reading Up round where old ghosts meet →

Up Round the Chamber of Damned Souls

‘There are snakes in his blood my dear!’ Miska the alchemist danced through the room with a flurry of unexpected jerks and shudders. ‘I see them under the skin, twisting in the veins of this poor lad; Kara om shi-la-la, they simply must be removed’ Her wild eyes widened with unfocused intensity, looking to almost … Continue reading Up Round the Chamber of Damned Souls →

Look o’yer the hill ye’ fool!

The beautiful rolling grass fields of Myrtleford were dappled with an extra lushness after the morning rain. Clouds, still grey overhead, ambled through the sky above the quiet village nestled within the grasslands of Western Stallinger. Waking to the dew of a typical Autumn morning, Captain Roland Longsmithe let out a satisfied yawn and resolved … Continue reading Look o’yer the hill ye’ fool! →

Aya and Carrick Part 3: Why Wizards Hate Camping

Carrick was cold. In the windblown bluster of the small glade a certain wizard was beginning to grow stroppy. His time-battered robe was proving to be exceptionally draughty and, after four weeks spent travelling in panic, the patch lined material was beginning to resemble a brown quilt long in needing of a cleansing flame or … Continue reading Aya and Carrick Part 3: Why Wizards Hate Camping →

Up round where barrels are made

Angus Craddic was in a barrel. He hadn’t always been in a barrel but now, in this moment, he was vividly aware that he was, without a shadow of a doubt, sitting in something that very much resembled a barrel. A cooper, or barrel maker by another name, Angus moved with the enthusiasm of a … Continue reading Up round where barrels are made →