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”