In Skymoore, finding someone was rarely a challenge. Community was everything there, so finding someone who knows someone was only ever a few questions away. In the week following the Autumn sale, however, one particular citizen alluded Donovan, no matter how hard he searched. Continue reading “The Storm, Epilogue”
When morning came, the storm remained as virulent as ever. The sky was bright, for aftermaj storms did not require clouds, but the hail still rattled and the wind whistled along. Odd & Ends’ patrons had become restless, and as Donovan and Hega reentered the shop (to some curious whispers), the shopkeep was inundated with all manner of complaints. Continue reading “The Storm, Part Eight”
“And that’s why Nestor Pinkly is not only my creator, but my best friend in the whole wide world!”
Even the shrewdest in the crowd found themselves swayed to a kind of parental adoration of Dovetail by the time she finished her story. The automaton took a bow, beaming with pride, and everyone clapped. Continue reading “The Storm, Part Seven”
Odd & Ends’ patrons looked dubious of Gwendolyn’s claims.
“When you’ve been a traveling merchant for two-hundred years,” a gruff dwarf woman said, “it takes a lot more ‘n a fairytale to empty m’ bowels.”
“What I’m about to tell you is no fiction,” Gwen said. “It’s a true tale, starring yours truly. Continue reading “The Storm, Part Six”
When Keel vanished into the backroom, the rhythm of Odd & Ends settled into a steady awkwardness. Most folks stayed quiet. Some murmured softly to their friends. One or two whined that they were about to brave the storm, but nobody acted on these claims. Continue reading “The Storm, Part Five”
“Well,” Gwendolyn Bottlehelm said, to break the silence, “glad that’s over.”
A nervous chuckle rippled throughout the shop, and its patrons scattered once more. Story time was finished, it seemed. Continue reading “The Storm, Part Four”
“I think I’ll stand, actually,” Donovan said. Linda offered a wary, almost parental look as she joined the increasingly-uncomfortable onlookers.
“Very well,” Keel replied. There was a righteousness to his posture that was not often present. Typically Keel seemed the pious sort who might travel from town to town, tending to the sick and praying for the dead, asking nothing in return. Now, he looked as likely to pray for Sol to immolate your impure soul as to shine upon your crops. Continue reading “The Storm, Part Three”
With Bagel successfully stabilized, the atmosphere of Odd & Ends followed suit.
After some more arguing, complaining, threatening, and more than one person storming out into the storm, rendered invisible by dense precipitation before they made it twenty feet from the shop, the store began to quiet some. Beds were placed, displays were moved, food was arranged, and angry discomfort gave way to bored discomfort. Continue reading “The Storm, Part Two”
The Church of the True Believers was perhaps Skymoore’s most magnificent building. The humble cathedral, made from pink, yellow, and blue crystal, stood alone in few acres of well-kept grass and flowers, but the light of Sol reflecting off the building seemed to fill the space around it, granting it a presence bigger than its physical form.
It was here that Keel Dal Everwind arrived at sunrise every single morning, and it was here that Keel Dal Everwind spent most of his day. He worked here, he ate here, he socialized here. It was here that Keel met his first love, composed his first song, ate his first pesto sandwich, and did so many other things that gave his life meaning. Continue reading “The Storm, Part One”