Benison Ioduok could open a door and arrive anywhere on Solkin, it was true. But the magic of a Story Keeper took a toll on the body, the soul, and the universe. So when he could, the old man walked or rode from one place to the next. Unfortunately, the world needed him more urgently than ever, it seemed, and his appointments rarely allowed it these days.
In fact, as he walked through the door which took him from a northern fishing village to a cave in eastern Penscarop, the Story Keeper was already late for his next meeting. Benison shook his head and pulled out his pocket watch, which had over a dozen different faces in five different numeral systems. He found the one for this particular region and adjusted the time a half hour back. The gears creaked and resisted as he turned them, but at last they acquiesced, and Benison was on time.
He leaned a little heavier on his cane. Continue reading “Good King Dundermoat, Part One”
Three-hundred years ago, a man called Pulldrid the Riser lifted a town called Seamoore into the sky using a thing called magic. The town was thereafter called Skymoore. It’s still there to this day and, except for one unicorn, everyone who lives in the floating city is pretty pleased with their elevation. They are so pleased with it that they gave Pulldrid that cool title and honor the event with a holiday called Severance Day. Continue reading “Severance Day”
The Mile-High Pub was the first place in Skymoore where Donovan Allman found anything resembling comfort. Its sleek, pastel exterior initially repulsed the former adventurer, but the rustic furnishings within reminded Donovan of the kind of place he might have once celebrated after saving a village from a rampaging direboar. Continue reading “From Humble Beginnings”
“It weren’t so long ago – maybe seventy years, maybe less – not a single person of Skymoore, from the lowliest shoe-polisher to the fanciest lordling, could get so far as breakfast without hearing the name Talbot Windomere. His blood was one-part human, one-part elf; his features were elegant as the Pale Moon and brilliant as the Southron Star; and he was unmatched in both body and mind. You read his name in the headlines of the morning paper, heard it in the praises of academics and swashbucklers, and yes, just made it out in the fanciful giggles and whispers of the young. Continue reading “The Lovers’ Link”
Somewhere in the vast emptiness of space, there is a star that some people call Sol. There are other people who live hundreds of thousands of light years away from it that call it Centauria17. But the individuals with whom we are primarily concerned call it Sol, and so shall we call it. Sol is relatively small in the grand scheme of stars. It has but two planets orbiting it – a cold, dead, green rock, and a much livelier multicolored one – which most other stars would scoff at if they were sentient (but most of them aren’t). Continue reading “The Subject of this Inquiry”