AscensionGate Round 1: The Place of GhostsMaking it out of the village without alerting anyone was proving to be far easier than Adam had expected. In fact, he was slightly disappointed. He’d always been told that the Genthin Guard vigilantly patrolled the outskirts of Na’kin territory, constantly watching for Otherbeasts and scouts from less than friendly neighbors, but he had yet to see a single soldier. He supposed that it might be due to the fact that he hadn’t quite reached the outskirts of the village yet, but he was still shocked that the streets were so empty.AscensionGate Round 1: The Place of Ghosts1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Adam rolled his shoulders back, shifting the weight of the bag situated on them. The bag was full of various supplies that he had decided he’d need along the way. Firestarters, dried meats, deerskin canteens full of water, and garden variety herbs had been carefully loaded into the leather bag in preparation for the long journey that he wasn’t sure he’d ever return from.
“Last stop before there’s no turning back,
The Publisher: Story and InformationStory and Information | Rules and Judges | News and Updates | Prizes | FAQ | Plot Overview | Chatroom | Auditions | Round 1 | Round 2 |The Publisher: Story and Information2 years ago in Personal More Like This
Libertas AuditionLibertasLibertas Audition2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
In From the Cold
It was winter in the valley. It was always winter in the valley. She didn’t much mind the winter, excepting when the chill wind stirred the snow to life, bringing it barrelling through the valley like a howling mad wolf. She was made for winters deeper and longer than any the valley had seen in decades. Her family had lived through the dark and the cold for generations going back into the Darkest Years, when they say the sun never rose in the northern country. She had dug trenches to the barn for milking goats in winters harsher than this.
It was the loneliness that scared Bartleby.
(Mother used to call you Bee.)
Three years ago—give or take; she couldn’t know to the day, she hadn’t known the days after the first month of isolation—she had been blindfolded and bound; prayers said over her head in the sacred language, and she had been taken. Days of riding, water poured between her lips between the tea