regrets


Cell 2
Castle Anvard


This cell is small, but not unreasonably so, wedge-shaped with a curving outer wall. It is livable but spare, a bed and a small table the only furnishings. These are both sturdily built of thick oak, too heavy to easily move, and fixed to the stone walls and floor with iron bolts.

The door is iron-bound oak with a small barred opening at the top to let in noise and air from the outside. Across the cell from the door is a very small window, fitted with glass so thick and warped and wavy that it is impossible to see anything clearly out-of-doors except for a general impression of ‘green’. On either side of the pane are iron bars the width of a child’s wrist, spaced regularly a few inches apart.


Loc lays on his cot, staring at the ceiling.

Lanisen is sitting silently on his cot, staring down at his Foxes and Wolves pebbles in the light of the little window. It doesn’t look like he’s made a move in quite some time.

Loc looks over and watches Lanisen.

Lanisen stares down at the game, then heaves a sigh and sweeps all the makeshift pieces into an untidy heap. He shifts onto his back and folds his hands beneath his head, watching the door.
Continue reading regrets

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gift


Southern Forest
Middle Archenland


In this part of the wood, the trees form a thick and leafy tent, spreading out and tempering the light. A fragrant scent issues from the soil itself, and the branches sway in the slightest breeze. The ground is verdant with a cover of grasses, and from far above the song of birds who must be hidden in the topmost boughs floats down. The faint trickle of a river can be heard somewhere to the north, although the concentration of trees in that direction eliminates the option of walking that way to see it. The trees are unusually concentrated to the west as well; a thick, ancient stand of pines grows there, and appears almost impassable beyond a faint trail, likely from some sort of animal.

Another faint trail can be observed leading to the south.


Jana slips silently through the woods, only visible by the occasional flutter of her cloak.

Lanisen leans agains the trunk of a tree almost on the path between the main road and the hideout. He raises his head as Jana moves through, almost before he sees or hears her.
Continue reading gift

moody


Ruined Storeroom
Middle Archenland


The noise of the river tumbling over the rocks is nearly deafening here, cutting off most other sounds. The way ahead is partially blocked by a pile of fallen stones from an earlier collapse. This stair to the cavity below is slick with moss and the ever-present spew of water. The floor oozes with a thick coating of mud, making it necessary for the original occupant to hollow out a series of long, earthen shelves several feet above the floor. These still contain the remains of what must have been an impressive storeroom, now completely ruined by dankness and mold. A few tarnished disks of metal have been left behind, and shreds of what once might have been a fine bolt of cloth. Brackets where torches might once have stood are still affixed in place, but they are black with rust.

The path comes to an abrupt dead end, with no other visible means of escape than the same, slippery fall of rocks used to arrive here.


Jana sits in an isolated corner of the storeroom, where she is unlikely to be seen unless someone were lucky enough to glance right where she is.

Lanisen slips into the storeroom with the unmistakeable air of someone sneaking off from an uncomfortable situation. He pauses, then heads for the boulders nearest the waterfall, likely intent on finding a seat. His attention is apparently not on the storeroom and its contents, so he misses the slight detail of Jana’s presence.
Continue reading moody

prodigal loc


In the Archenland Forest
Middle Archenland


Green light filters down from the canopy of translucent leaves overhead. The cool mountain air brushes your face and ripples the shadows of the trees. On occasion, you see a small squirrel or other animal cross you path, but mostly all is quiet. The forest continues to the north and east, while to the south and west, you see the mountains that divide Archenland from the vast expanse of the Southern Desert. If you look between the trees in just the right spot, you can even glimpse the twin peaks of Mt. Pire in the distance.


Lanisen hurries through on the path commonly taken to the town, two empty waterskins slung over his shoulder. He looks irritable and tired.

Jana is essentially invisible behind a tree. She waits until he has passed her before stepping out and clapping an iron-gripped hand over his mouth.
Continue reading prodigal loc

failed manipulation


Ruined Storeroom
Middle Archenland


The noise of the river tumbling over the rocks is nearly deafening here, cutting off most other sounds. The way ahead is partially blocked by a pile of fallen stones from an earlier collapse. This stair to the cavity below is slick with moss and the ever-present spew of water. The floor oozes with a thick coating of mud, making it necessary for the original occupant to hollow out a series of long, earthen shelves several feet above the floor. These still contain the remains of what must have been an impressive storeroom, now completely ruined by dankness and mold. A few tarnished disks of metal have been left behind, and shreds of what once might have been a fine bolt of cloth. Brackets where torches might once have stood are still affixed in place, but they are black with rust.

The path comes to an abrupt dead end, with no other visible means of escape than the same, slippery fall of rocks used to arrive here.


Lanisen forages along the cave wall, digging behind a shelf with a piece of rock. His hands are filthy, and several smaller holes along the bank and in increasingly random places along the muddy floor indicate where he has been hunting for clay. He doesn’t seem to have had much, if any, luck.

Jana peeks into the room, looking a bit cross and also like she’s been up most of the night. “Have you found anything yet? Or are you just hiding again?”
Continue reading failed manipulation

at fault


Hostel
Sun and Moon Inn
Middle Archenland


You stand in a spacious, dimly-lit room. It is quite plain, furnished almost solely with cots, and plenty of them at that. There are several people sleeping here, but it is rather dark to try discerning precisely who. Seems to be a comfortable enough place to sleep, by the steady breathing and occasional snores coming from the people resting on the cots.

There is a door to the north leading into the Anteroom.


Myrd stalks back into the hostel. He looks, in a word, volatile. He leans over Lanisen’s bedside, coldly observing the boy.

Continue reading at fault

fish out of water


Hostel
Lancelyn Green
Middle Archenland


You stand in a spacious, dimly-lit room. It is quite plain, furnished almost solely with cots, and plenty of them at that. There are several people sleeping here, but it is rather dark to try discerning precisely who. Seems to be a comfortable enough place to sleep, by the steady breathing and occasional snores coming from the people resting on the cots.

There is a door to the north leading into the Anteroom.


Simetra looks into the hostel to see if the ill man is awake.

Lanisen is half-sitting up, staring around the hostel. He blinks at the woman in the doorway, then touches the glasses on his nose, completely, helplessly lost. “Um…”
Continue reading fish out of water

disposable


Across the River
Middle  Archenland


The spray rising up from the waters of the tributary obscures the far bank until one is actually standing upon its uneven ground. Great slabs of stone are scattered pell-mell along the rise leading to a vast, natural chamber enclosed by walls of rock. Jagged stalactites dangle in eerie formations from the far distant ceiling, and what scant illumination there is reflects up off the waters and casts shadows on the walls.

To cross back over the river here looks to be dangerous, to put it mildly. The skeletal wrecks of several small, wooden boats tossed on the shore serve as a grim warning. Up ahead, the path divides, both forks leading further downward.


Jana is sitting moodily beside Lanisen, notably not just next to him… this is probably due to the fact that he smells of vomit. She looks thoroughly displeased with the situation, rather like a cat that has just been dumped in a tub full of water.

Lanisen is curled on his side. He does indeed smell of vomit and other fouler things. His face is shiny with sweat and flushed. He appears to be asleep for the moment, a wet rag draped over his forehead.
Continue reading disposable

poorly


Across the River
Middle Archenland


The spray rising up from the waters of the tributary obscures the far bank until one is actually standing upon its uneven ground. Great slabs of stone are scattered pell-mell along the rise leading to a vast, natural chamber enclosed by walls of rock. Jagged stalactites dangle in eerie formations from the far distant ceiling, and what scant illumination there is reflects up off the waters and casts shadows on the walls.

To cross back over the river here looks to be dangerous, to put it mildly. The skeletal wrecks of several small, wooden boats tossed on the shore serve as a grim warning. Up ahead, the path divides, both forks leading further downward.


Lanisen is still fast asleep in the passageway. His face is shiny with sweat, and ashen except for two bright fever-spots. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s free to go.

Continue reading poorly

small mercies


Earthen Chamber
Middle  Archenland


At the end of a narrow corridor is a tiny room, formed entirely of earth. If not for the tangled network of roots holding the sides of the cavity together, it would likely have collapsed in on itself long ago. Adding to the sense of claustrophobia, standing upright here is nearly impossible. The gutted-out ends of candle stubs, along with the rotting strips of what may once have been blankets, testify that this shelter was at some point inhabited. Beneath you, the earth has been scraped out in a futile effort to make it seem less cramped. Even the air in this niche is stale, as if it has not been stirred for some time.


Lanisen is not visible from outside, unless someone actually goes to the trouble of looking into his prison. If someone did, they would see him curled up on the floor of the passageway, not asleep. And they would probably also notice how badly the chamber is beginning to smell.

Jana tosses a waterskin in at him.
Continue reading small mercies