You find yourself in a quiet, peaceful little meadow, sheltered to the west by the face of the Western Cliffs, and to the east by a particularly thick grove of trees. The grass grows tall and thick here, in clumps thick enough to make an enticing mouthful for any grazing beast. Between the trees and the cliffs, the meadow remains shaded enough to make it a nice, relaxing place to be.
A dragon with shimmering white scales and ice blue eyes is curled around a rusted kettle, its body a little smaller than a grown elephant. It is curiously snuffling the kettle and has a few dead birds by its right front paw.
Lanisen comes walking along the path from the north in the late evening, moving wearily. He doesn’t immediately register the absence of birdsong in the trees overhead, but he pauses uncertainly when he does, and takes another moment to turn the corner that brings him within sight of the meadow.
Continue reading cloudy with a chance of dragons
In the Northern Woods
The dense and varied woodland of the Northern Wood has been broken up a little here, and a real glimpse of the sky is finally visible. The oak and white pine trees still dominate the area, but a small plot of land has been cleared for a sort of garden-meadow. A goat stands in a pen near the edge of the clearing, and a deep well has been dug there as well, walled up so that no one will stumble in. Set back into the trees and brush, where it would be almost hidden if it did not have the goat pen to mark it, is a small cottage-like house.
Because of the thick undergrowth, it’s rather hard to see any distinct paths leading out of the clearing.
Lanisen wanders to the edge of the clearing in the late afternoon, peering through the trees toward the house. He has a stained cloth bag mostly full of fresh herbs slung across his body.
Jana is emptying scraps into the goat trough.
Lanisen hesitates, glancing toward the windows of the house, then heads that way, in no particular hurry. “Hey,” he says once he’s near enough.
Continue reading one bake
You find yourself standing in the middle of a fairly well-used forest path. The main of it extends to the north, toward the river, and south toward a fairly large clearing ahead. A smaller branch winds off to the west, disappearing in the trees.
A blur of red-brown fur might be the first thing espied upon setting foot on the path, Ayla pouncing on a squirrel with single-minded determination. Capturing it between her teeth, she growls, biting down swiftly to end the creature’s life as quickly as possible before devouring it eagerly.
Lanisen, coming up the path from the north, comes to a slightly startled halt at the explosion of activity ahead of him.
A wolf with silver gray tipped ears and liquid brown eyes (Ayla) finishes her small meal before wheeling toward the sound of footsteps, falling into a crouch and slinking away from the son of Adam nearing her.
Continue reading reclusive types
In the Northern Woods
The dense and varied woodland of the Northern Wood has been broken up a little here, and a real glimpse of the sky is finally visible. The oak and white pine trees still dominate the area, but a small plot of land has been cleared for a sort of garden-meadow. A goat stands in a pen near the edge of the clearing, and a deep well has been dug there as well, walled up so that no one will stumble in. Set back into the trees and brush, where it would be almost hidden if it did not have the goat pen to mark it, is a small cottage-like house. Because of the thick undergrowth, it’s rather hard to see any distinct paths
leading out of the clearing.
Jana stands in her garden, pulling up late summer carrots.
Lanisen follows the path from the watchtower, alone this time, no horse or hound to carry his things or announce his arrival. He looks thinner than he did, but his hair is neatly trimmed and he looks like he’s been getting a healthy amount of sun.
Jana straightens, rubbing her back. She squints at the figure, frowning, and drops her carrots in a basket before making her way over to him. “Lanisen?”
Continue reading coming on autumn
Lanisen has led the big gray gelding that came with him to the water for a good long drink. His belongings are all packed neatly in a pile just outside the cave where he’s been staying, ready to be loaded. The basin is full of pale gold reflected morning light, only the upper west cliffs directly illuminated.
Jana leads Tristan by the hand into the basin. She holds a small package in her other hand.
Lanisen glances up from the horse when Tohol starts baying, and his whole entire face lights up with a grin. “Good mornin’!”
Continue reading goodbye until autumn
Lanisen has found a sheltered, sunny nook in the rocks surrounding the pool to hide himself in. There’s a piece of blank parchment on his knees and a charcoal for writing in his hand, but he doesn’t look like he’s made much progress.
Pheeobe comes to the pool from the trees and begins lapping up the water with her tongue.
Chiltic bobs up and down as he flies along, chirping and tweeting away. He dives upon noticing some sweet, sweet nectar and happily feasts upon the flower’s delightful goodness.
Lanisen lifts his head from his task and watches the Wolf as she comes into his field of vision.
Continue reading fast-paced advice
At the Base of the Watchtower
Jana comes out of the tower with a mildly disquisitive expression.
Lanisen follows the east path, ducking low-hanging branches, and steps out into the clearing around the front of the tower. He’s got his sleeves rolled up in concession to the sunny warmth of the day, not hiding his scars for once.
Jana calls out to him.
Lanisen glances up. He grins in greeting and picks up his pace.
Continue reading unpacking correspondence
Riverbank, Northeast of Beaversdam
You stand at the eastern edge of Lantern Waste, on the northern bank of the Great River. To the west, the dense foliage of the Waste forest makes the riverbank path shady and cool, while to the east and south, Narnia opens into magnificent rolling plains.
The Great River is dammed here by a large assemblage of logs. The dam appears to be sturdy and juts out across the water to the southwest to a charming little mound in the very center of the river. The spillover is constant, but the dam appears to be wide enough to walk on provided one doesn’t mind wet feet.
The riverbank path continues eastward downstream, and follows the riverbank westward into Lantern Waste.
Jana walks along the bank of the river, a small child’s hand in her own.
Lanisen is waiting near the dam, sitting cross-legged on the ground in the shade of a weeping willow.
Tristran stops his mother some distance away. She leans down to speak with him and he points toward the figure under the willow, exclaiming jubilantly. After a few further exchanged words, he scuttles away from her and down the slope toward the man. “Hello!”
Lanisen gets to his feet as Jana and Tristran come into view and steps forward to meet them, pushing aside the hanging willow branches and grinning fit to split. “Hello!”
Continue reading sir snooty and the salamanders
At the Base of the Watchtower
Lanisen sits at the base of the watchtower, his hands folded on top of his knees.
Jana comes walking toward the tower looking vaguely put out.
Lanisen looks up at the sound of footsteps. He gets to his feet.
Jana nods to him curtly as she nears.
Lanisen lowers his head and looks at her anxiously. “I came to– I came to apologize,” he offers.
Continue reading necessary conversations
At the Base of the Watchtower
The Northern Wood is a dense and varied woodland. It consists primarily of oak and white pine trees, with a variety of other groves growing here and there. Some of the thicker trunks bear black, ribbed scars from some ancient fire, which might help to explain the large natural clearing that has formed here. The trees thin out to buckthorn and gorse bush about a large tower built of rough-hewn stone. The tower is in good repair, and stretches high enough to clear the tree canopy, presumably affording a good view from all approaches.
Jana walks toward the tower from somewhere northish. She is removing a wrap as she walks, as the day is growing more comfortable.
Lanisen is sitting on a stump near the line where the new forest meets the older forest. More visibly, a big bay gelding stands placidly, his tail whisking at flies.
Jana stops and frowns.
Lanisen doesn’t notice immediately, his head bent over a book, but the massive black wolfhound at his feet that sits up and raises its ears as Jana nears gets his attention. He glances up.
Continue reading reaching & falling