Galamithra Moonshadow

“Bellsulion Taurvantian,” a vision of loveliness materialized before the elf, seemingly drawn forth from the ether into his vision, “it gladdens my heart to see that you’ve survived the attack unscathed.”

Mithra was, by far in Zeph’s opinion, the most beautiful elf and therefore creature to have ever graced Ember. To think of it, Zeph could not recall anyone in Dunmar who ever claimed differently.

“Ah, fair maiden Mithra, as ever you grace my sight as the sun graces a morning meadow,” the wizard bowed deeply like a courtier. He knew he played the fool, and looked it as well in his somewhat tattered cloak, stained with mud from the banks of the Ubathor and the recent battle. The nukks had drawn back after their assault, but it was clear they simply gathered their courage for another bloody attempt at the walls. The smell of burned meat was omnipresent. He did not care how he appeared.

“Only you, Zephyr, would think of courtesy in such dreadful times. Always you hold yourself just slightly above the mayhem.” The girl hurt to look at. Her skin so pale and flawless. Her form, lithe and inviting. Her face, combining mortal features in a way that would shame Ainna Herself. More


Week One – The Chase to Galton Ferry

The procession maintains good order and discipline still. You never did find your friends, but those around you seem like good people and you know some of them well enough and the others you’ve seen around Dunmar. The train seems to go on forever, and each night when you stop, you’re too tired to go looking for anyone. You know that once you get to Galton Ferry, the group will compress and your likelihood of locating anyone will go up dramatically.

It is late afternoon, and down here in the lowlands, the air feels a bit close and too warm for the season.  It has been a long journey, and you’ve yet to see man or domesticated beast along the road. Of course, tinkers and merchants are rare coming out to Dunmar, which is pretty much at the end of the world, so you wouldn’t expect to see anyone, come to think of it.

The absence of cows and goats doesn’t seem to have had any negative impact on houseflies or bottle flies or mosquitos, however. Few are immune to their pestering. But the smell of wildflowers and the rich blue of the sky down here make it hard to resent the endless swatting. Life is everywhere here.

In the distance, far to the rear, a horn sounds. It doesn’t sound like the horns of Dunmar which are higher in pitch. Then another sounds, a bit further north, likewise a deep and reverberating sound. Several more are heard to the south east and east. It is impossible to see the rear of the train clearly from here because of the thickness of the air, but you can see general shapes.  More

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