Lanisen sits on the ground outside the cave he’s been camping in, his knees drawn up loosely and his arms resting on top. There’s a letter unfolded next to him, and another underneath, but he’s only staring at them without doing anything about them. He looks tired.
Crenna pads quietly into the basin, nose to the ground. She pauses upon seeing her friend and gives a low bark, “Hello Lanisen.”
Ayla pads tentatively into the basin, halting just inside it, her ears pricked forward, her nose close to the ground. Glancing up as she nearly runs directly into another wolf in much the same position, she yelps, startled. “Oops. Sorry!” Glancing up, her tail begins to wag slightly upon seeing Lanisen, and she yips a quiet greeting. “Lanisen, Son of Adam,” she comments, sitting in the grass and curling her tail around her feet.
Continue reading the nature of gifts
What a sweet place you have wandered to. The forest trees here are scattered across a soft meadow of heather and wildflowers, and the sun dapples the ground through the leaves above. This is a wide section of earth, and it seems to be a gathering place–indeed, there is a ring of stones in one side of the open clearing where it seems fires have been built over many nights. To the south, a worn path leads to the Caldron Pool and the waterfall that feeds it. You can also see a path leading west toward the cliff-face. To the east the path leads into the deeper forests of Lantern Waste.
Crenna is resting under one of the shrubs, her eyes half closed. However, her ears are moving and her nose twitches alerting someone that she may be very much awake.
Lanisen follows the path west in the evening, a mostly-empty gathering sack over his shoulder. He looks tired.
Crenna’s ears perk up and she cracks a eye open. Her tail wags a bit.
Continue reading new face
In the Northern Wood
The Northern Wood is a dense and varied woodland. It consists predominantly of oak and white pine trees, with a variety of other groves growing here and there. Down here the undergrowth is quite thick, making it rather hard to see any distinct paths leading in any particular direction. Above you, the blue sky and bright sunlight are barely visible through the thick canopy of leaves overhead.
Lanisen wanders through the northern woods, a stained canvas bag slung messenger-style across his body. It’s mostly full of fresh herbs.
Crenna also pads through the woods, her own satchel a bit full. She hears the Son of Adam’s footsteps and makes a course towards him. “Hello there.”
Continue reading nettle
Lanisen sits quietly against the bole of a tree on the southeast side of the gathering circle, soaking up the reddish evening sunshine, reading a letter.
Crenna comes padding into the clearing, looking a bit weary though in good spirits. She seems to be heading to the shelter when she stops in her tracks, sniffing a familiar scent. She turns her head and smiles, “Lanisen?”
Lanisen lifts his head at the sound of his name, glancing to either side and behind him. “Crenna!” he says, lifting his eyebrows in pleasure and getting to his feet. “Hey, hi; I didn’t think to see you here.”
Continue reading mentors & healers
Beach North of Sted Cair
Dreygan is lying just far enough out on the beach that the larger waves wash over his paws. It’s a warm–very warm–day, and even with his wet fur and the brisk ocean water, the Wolf is panting lightly.
Belgwyn comes bounding over the dune and straight into the water a small bit away from the water chirping as he swims and dives in the water
Lanisen walks north along the beach from the peninsula, his shoes in his hand and his hair tied back out of his face. He’s got his sleeves and his pant legs rolled up, and his face is red and shiny. He squints ahead, shading his eyes, and steps past the waterline so his steps make some noise as he nears the blind wolf.
Continue reading sand & sun
In the Great Woods
You find yourself in the deep, vibrant forest that makes up the Great Woods of Narnia. All around you, trees and vines and bushes grow in great abundance, their leafy branches serving to block out a good deal of the sunlight that would trickle down from above. There are very few clear paths here upon which to walk, but at least you sense no real danger from the trees here. They seem to regard you with a detached curiosity, allowing you to pass by without impediment.
To the north, you can just make out the sparkling surface of the inlet of Glasswater through the dense foliage. The seawater adds a tang to the woodland scents that hang in the air here. To the south, the ground inclines sharply toward the mountains beyond, and a stone building sits nestled between two foothills. The sign above the door reads: The Splintered Axe Inn and Tavern.
Lanisen sits alone on the ground outside the inn in a puddle of sunshine that has broken through the trees, writing a letter. His left foot, extended in front of him, is bootless and wrapped up tightly in white cloth, as if it’s been hurt recently. A big black hound is flopped on his side next to him, asleep with his back pressing up against Lanisen’s leg.
Wintermoor makes his way into the clearing and towards the inn carrying with him the signs of travel.
Lanisen looks up at the sound of hooves, moving slightly in a way that suggests he’s about to get up before he changes his mind. He watches the path, keeping very still, and then breathes out in pleased relief and recognition when Wintermoor comes into view. The hound at his side raises his head.
Continue reading history & memory & grace
Splintered Axe Tavern
The Great Woods
Lanisen can be heard cautiously clumping down the steps several moments before he actually steps through the door. He makes his way to the door, slightly disheveled and with a look of intense concentration on his face.
Crenna trots into the tavern, greeting the barkeep, “Hello Hergel. How’s my patient today?” As if on cue, her ears swivel to the sound of steps and her eyes widen. She picks up the pace to meet him at the door, “Lanisen! Hold onto my neck for support if you need.”
Lanisen says, slightly out of breath, “I’m okay, I’m okay, thank you.”
Continue reading conflicting goals
The Splintered Axe Tavern
The Great Woods
You find yourself standing in a rustic tavern nestled deep in the Great Woods of Narnia. It appears to be much what you’d expect of such a tavern. It is not large, but there are several tables scattered about. They are rough-hewn, but clean. A beardless, young-looking dwarf can be seen behind the bar along the south wall, washing out mugs and taking orders from the patrons. The tavern appears to have a small but loyal clientele, made up mostly of talking woodland beasts.
There is a door behind the bar, but that appears to lead to private quarters.
A door to the west leads to the Inn, where travellers can stay for brief periods as they make their way from Archenland into Narnia or vice versa. The door leading out is north.
Lanisen is tucked away in a corner, trying to be invisible. This is made difficult by the massive black hound sitting on his haunches next to him, and also by the odd collection of walking sticks leaned up against the wall.
Crenna comes trotting into the inn, head to the ground. She seems like she is on a mission,
Lanisen sighs and reaches down to dig through the pack on the floor next to him. He surfaces with a notebook, which he flips through until he comes to a blank page. When the door opens, he glances up.
Continue reading bedside manners
A wolf with grizzled coat and emerald eyes (Glyn) flashes a wry grin at Caileana. “Well and plainly put.” Aliyah’s words trouble him, though. “If there are troubling rumours, then I for one think we should chase them down. Anyone who would seize control and undermine the established order might think they have the good of Narnia at heart, but they could do untold damage on the way.”
Pheeobe nods again. “Glyn is right. We must do everything we can to keep the peace. We must put the good of all at the center.”
Caileana chimes in, “Does the Council even have any candidates to rule in mind? Of tradition, Narnia has been governed by Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, but there are few enough of those, and even fewer that could be said to be more Narnian than Archenlander.”
Continue reading rumblings
South Side of the Caldron Pool
Lanisen sits on the ground near the pool, his legs drawn up. He’s using a flat-topped boulder as a table, fighting the gentle breeze for ownership of a half-written letter.
Crenna trots through the forest, looking much more rested from her journey. Upon seeing Lanisen, she smiles and barks out a greeting, “Hello Lanisen.”
Continue reading writer’s block