Love, Aendryr_The Taunting Tongue_Not So Cozy Cabin_Iphigenia
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Love, Aendryr
Hey, Mom and Dad. It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, I know we’ve all been pretty busy with work and life. Could you two stop by for my birthday next week? It would make the day amazing. Love, Aendryr.Their pen scratched blue text onto the piece of aged parchment, working around faint damp stains from the rather poorly-maintained wooden ceiling of the storage room. Every time it rained, no matter if it was just a drizzle, the water somehow found a way to slip through the cracks. They glanced upward at the weather outside. It was still rather bright out, with some clouds on th...
The Taunting Tongue
Crisis. Negotiations. Revelations. Compromise. Guards swung the double doors open to allow Joliver Barleywood, a learned Halfling Bard of the Aevalorn Parishes, entry into the private apartments of Ser Roham Baz, the esteemed emissary to the King of Nodderton. Baz’s attaché, Balem Dask, received Joliver in the sitting room. “Balem! Merry evening. I came as soon as I received the summons,” Joliver said, removing his cloak and tossing it onto the furniture. “Is he alright?” Balem gestured for Joliver to follow. “Ser Roham is in his study. His need is urgent.” They walked through a stately dining...
Not So Cozy Cabin
Winter had come in with a vengeance. Somehow, I made it up the road. Visibility was bad, but I could see the cabin in front of me. I hoped that there would be roaring fire, www.onedoor.ccand I could settle in for the night. Finally, I made it to the door. I knocked. “Hello?” I called. She had said that the door would be open. She was supposed to be here. I reached for the doorknob, and thankfully the door opened. But there was no roaring fire waiting for me. And she was not waiting. I stepped inside, and shook the snow off my coat and boots. I walked across the room. There was a fireplace, but no fire. Whe...
Iphigenia
Rain poured like silent tears and clouds blurred the sun as the cat scurried inside an alcove of the Acropolis. The middle steps had crumbled, leaving behind a space perfectly sized for the cat to fit in, and she leaned her golden body against the rough stone and watched the sky. The world was dark and silent but for the pattering rain, water pooling on ancient stone, bright neon tickets from tourists finally washed away. The cat loved the Acropolis on days like this, days when, at last, there were no tourists dirtying the ancient ground, no one pointing or jostling or yelling, no loud picture...