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
Here is a wide open space carved in the rock, roughly circular and no more than twenty yards in diameter. The cliffs loom high on every side, providing shelter from wind and weather, but a great opening very far up lets in sunlight and sky. A thin jet of water, perhaps a daughter-stream of the river that pours into Caldron Pool, cascades down the western cliff face and feeds into a deep pool the color and clarity of a well-cut emerald. The ground, except for a ring of vegetation surrounding the pool, is dry and sandy. A single ancient larch tree grows tall near the north wall.
All around, the cliff face is etched and pocked with half-open tunnels and dark holes, entrances to small caves hollowed out years ago by the long work of water on stone. Some are fitted with wooden doors and appear inhabited, but many still yawn empty. Up above, ledges and crevices in the rock provide nesting spaces for eagles and hawks. In the east wall, through a wide crevice like a wound in the stone, the forests of Lantern Waste are just visible.
Lanisen is alone in the sunlit basin, wandering about idly. He kneels on the edge of the pool where the water is the most still and peers down into its depths.
Glora strolls into the basin, tail held high and ears perked. Someone has made a chain of autumn leaves to drape about her neck, the reds and oranges a bright contrast to her grey coat.
Lanisen sits back on his heels, looking up at the waterfall, then back down into the pool.
Continue reading prejudice and sauce
The Narnian wilds are more open here, full of life and bounty. Chains of cranberries and acorns have been hung up, stringing from branch to branch, a seeming dare to the intrepid Squirrel. Lanterns have been set up in convenient places, casing made from turnips and candle stubs, and some industrious creature’s hard work at carving openings for the light to pour from.
Under the pear tree sits a huge feasting table, laden with everything good and in season. There are squash of all varieties, potatoes roasted, mashed, and boiled, a pile of nuts more enormous than seems quite safe or possible, kale and fresney in every form, soups and stews, venison and rabbit and fish, and of course, several apple, quince, and nutty pies.
Meka is having a very animated conversation with Applebud in the midst of those gathered.
Applebud can be seen to be chittering very excitedly to Meka.
Darrin comes into view among the crowd.
Lanisen follows along with Darrin, his hands in his pockets. He seems interested in everything.
Continue reading squirrels and eagles
Outside the Twin Oaks Inn
Megren stands outside the inn, dressed in sparring clothes. A group of Narnians is gathered around her, all chattering away, seemingly about the kings and queens, if the words that rise above the talk are anything to go by.
A faun with brown curly hair (Tumnus) comes walking in from the south, surrounded by a small group of Beasts.
A magpie with black-and-white plumage (Tooey) half hops, half flies in after the faun chirping something about treasure.
A centaur with dark serious eyes (Wintermoor) stands with the circle listening to the daughter of eve speak to those gathered. A faint covering of travel-dust covers him still.
Continue reading lost caches and wishes