Talvace

Fog settled over lake Wryish and hugged the structures of Haspar like a chill, wet coat. Aside from the water lapping lazily at the shoreline and the distant sounds of the fishermen on the docks, there was little activity in the city that day. Anyone within their right mind had shuttered themselves inside their home, stoked the fire, and hunkered down for a day of rest. After all, what work could be done when the sky was pissing mist and fog obscured everything farther than three feet in front of your face?  Determined to still make the day a productive one, Yangir had buttoned himself snugly into an oiled slicker coat, donned his tallest, most water resistant boots, and ventured into the hushed world.  “It’s quite the day, isn’t it, my dear Whinny?” He chuckled, leading the stiff mare from her shelter. He’d fastened a thick blanket over the mare, doing his best to protect her from the chill and the wet.  She only gave a short snort in reply, focused on carefully avoiding any

All Hallow’s Eve 2026: Webs If Jochi had ever cleaned the hay loft of the barn, then it hadn’t been a recent endeavor. One side held their dwindling supply of hay, soon to be replenished by the first harvest of the summer, the other side was littered with the moulding remnants of hay that had fed the farm creatures through the winter. Littering the beams above both sides were a variety of cobwebs. Some were small and barely hanging on, easily cleared off with a broom or a swipe of an arm if you didn’t mind the stickiness, but others were far larger, more intricate, and, if Dom was being honest, down right spooky. One in particular had been spun over the far window and reached from rafter to lower window sill and over to one panel of the wall. It swayed slightly but held fast when the two men walked by. Dominic tried his best not to check to see if the intricate web was occupied.  “So ya see,” Jochi said, bringing them to stand in the middle of the hay loft, “cobwebbing is something