cloudy with a chance of dragons


Napthalia’s Meadow
Lantern Waste


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

Advertisements

the nature of gifts


Selale Basin
Lantern Waste


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

living land


Selale Basin
Lantern Waste


Lanisen sits by the pool at dusk, wrapped up in his heavy cloak, watching the waterfall a little distantly.

A wolf with half of a left ear (Virika) pads along the cliff face into the basin. Her pace is casual and leisurely.

Lanisen glances up as the Wolf comes into his field of vision. He starts to call out, then stops, a little puzzled, and watches her.

Virika heads for the larch tree. She takes a seat beneath it, scanning her surroundings. Seeing the Son of Adam, she nods. “Hello.” Her tail curls around her hindquarters.

Continue reading living land

diving


Selale Basin
Lantern Waste


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 sits just outside one of the larger caves, one that looks quite lived-in by now, tending a little cookfire.

Pheeobe comes running in from the East as fast as she can and catapults into the water, making a huge splash deep into the water where she doesn’t come up from right away.

Lanisen glances up and raises his eyebrows, watching worriedly. He gets to his feet, just in case.

Pheeobe pops up after a few beats and dog-paddles to the edge of the water before collapsing.

Continue reading diving

new face


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste


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

mentors & healers


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste


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

rivers


At the beginning of the Great River
Lantern Waste


You stand at the head of the Great River of Narnia, where it flows from the Caldron Pool and begins its southeastern journey toward the sea. Here, the river is fairly shallow and small, and looks pretty easy to cross. As it happens, you also stand at the edge of Lantern Waste, which lies to the east. The trees crowd the riverbank more closely in that direction, but the going doesn’t appear to be that difficult. To the west, you can see Cauldron Pool’s clear waters twinkling in the sunshine, and hear the roar of the waterfall as it crashes over the western cliffs.


Sunlight filters through the trees this afternoon in the Waste, turning everything green and gold. Pheeobe, taking a moment from her patrol, stops to listen to the waterfall and admire the scene. Her ear twitch at every sound and (for once) she isn’t humming.

Lanisen follows the path west along the riverbank, his footsteps crunching softly over occasional dead vegetation.

Pheeobe’s ears flick at the sound of incoming steps. She calls out, “Hello?” and walks through the shallow stream to the other side, supposing it may be an animal passing through.

Continue reading rivers

laundry day


Selale Basin
Lantern Waste


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 perched alone on top of one of the rocks surrounding the pool, watching the afternoon light reflecting off the water and onto the basin walls. Surrounding him are several articles of clothing in various states of dampness, spread carefully out on the rocks to dry, including his shirt. The pants he is wearing also seem slightly damp in the got-doused-a-few-hours-ago way, especially on the left side. There’s a letter unfolded on the rock beside him, but he seems to have set it aside.

Ayla pads quietly into the basin, her nose to the ground, clearly following a scent. Lifting her head, she yelps softly in greeting, padding toward the rock upon which Lanisen sits, though pausing several feet from it and settling back on her haunches. She looks rather pleased with herself, perhaps for finding him in his secluded place.

Continue reading laundry day

raspberries


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste
Northwestern Narnia


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.


Lanisen passes through in the early evening. The sun has already set beyond the cliffs, but the sky is still light. Cicadas are chirring in the trees, and an insistently buzzing Nighthawk sings a quarter-mile away.

There is a series of chirps and squeaks that can be heard coming from behind one of the large stones.

Lanisen slows and halts, already searching warily for the source of the noise. He approaches the stone cautiously.

Continue reading raspberries

reclusive types


Well-worn Footpath
Lantern Waste
Northwestern Narnia


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