By David C. Daoust Chantilles felt alone in the silent chamber. She sat on the ground, close to Khadory, one hand on his shoulder. He was breathing, in fact he seemed peaceful. She was relieved that the light did not fade, even as he lie unconscious on the cold earthen floor. The light seemed to…
By David C. Daoust Chut felt like he may have seriously harmed Chantilles. Her reaction to the cross being pressed against her, made Chut doubt himself. Initially, anyway. It was clear to his sight, that whatever was possessing her, was abruptly evicted out of her system. She’d really only stepped on him twice during her…
By David C. Daoust Young and old, villagers’ days were wrought with work; marching through fields, hauling water. Such chores made them strong. While this made up most of their day, even the children of such villages were not without some form of combat training. In fact, most of their time, outside of chores, was…
By David C. Daoust The Island Nations of Vitrucia, by and large, were considered the nemesis of the lands; of the church, of all the noble houses that ruled the Tetrarchy. While, currently, the Vitrucians’ followed a prophet, one that could in no way be accepted as a follower of the one God, nor recognized…
By David C. Daoust Chut was dumbstruck. The old women were just milling around, all the while the doggie was barking endlessly at the hole in the ground. He felt like he knew where the pups head was at, but the old women, they just, were not paying attention. He supposed it was a pretty…
By David C. Daoust Chantilles breathed a sigh of relief once the pacing ‘Dark elf’ finally turned and left the room. She was pretty sure the moody elfess had been waiting for Chantilles burns to fully heal. Where she’d slipped off to now, was beyond her. Chantilles was feeling fully healed, full of energy really….
By David C. Daoust The long-lived races, said to be the first intelligent life, consisted of both the dwarven descendants of giants, the Baeldryn; and the wild-spirits made mortal, known as the Faedaris. Both would come to be known as the Ancients. Who was first, was ever a point of contention. Needless to say, both…
By David C. Daoust Khadory would never be sure why he let her do it. She reached her hand out to the ghoul, a weak wounded monstrosity– when exactly the chants started, he could not be sure, but once the creature began to shift, unnaturally, the chanting was all Khadory could hear. The cowering ghoul…
By David C. Daoust The ghoul had lurched out into the torchlight but moments before… Some sort of undead thing. There was no part of Khadory that did not want to lash out at the monstrosity. The undead creature that simply should not be. The ghoul lunged and Khadory gave ground. The boy swung his…
By David C. Daoust Stairs. A spiral of stairs heading ever upwards. Chantilles was back in that tower. She had not quite pieced it all together yet. Images invaded her thoughts as she climbed ever upwards. She knew she lost the cross, it flew from her hand, but she could not quite remember why it…
By David C. Daoust The hog just lay there. It unceremoniously, and without real reason, fell over dead. This happened after Chut’s dear friend, Chantilles, was knocked into the deep dark hole. Chut felt relieved that the dead thing decided to play along with the facts. Spriggans did not really like the undead. Death itself…
By David C. Daoust Khadory landed hard. An array of injuries enveloped him with the darkness, not just from the perilous slide down the shaft, striking the earth below, itself, left its mark. He hit hard enough to force consciousness from him. Khadory awoke with fresh scrapes to his back. Scrapes which stung with every…
By David C. Daoust Hindal was not who he was meant to be. He had played a game with the darkness, one that left a mar across his existence. It was here in this black pit that he was to meet his end, he knew now. He had memory of it all, all that he…
By David C. Daoust A putrid smell filled the air, Chantilles noticed it but moments before Khadory plummeted into the creature’s den, it had not yet registered in her mind. She stood wide eyed, flaming torch in hand– ready to help, yet with no way to actually achieve the action. Abe, however, began to growl….
By David C. Daoust The Collier’s Yard was a misshapen mess of uneven ground and stacked piles of wood. Years of being used for pit fires had left small hilly bumps and mounds throughout. Much of it was charred, some of which was black as pitch. Impressive tufts of wild growth managed to reclaim some…
By David C. Daoust Khadory followed along as the grey bearded Tharnan led the two oxen, pulling the wood laden cart, into what appeared to be a makeshift shanty town. A town of tents and encamped wagons surrounding a sectioned off work yard, populated by more Baeldhori than Khadory had ever witnessed. Each with the…
By David C. Daoust Chantilles was not where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be with the other women, huddled around, placing threshing stones. Jagged little rocks meant to be embedded in a curved wood plank, a sledge, used for threshing. They were getting close to the summer harvest; the winter wheat…
By David C. Daoust Khadory awoke early, his mind still on the week before. He struggled to wrap his mind around the fact that Braidon was no longer living with them in the Abbey. He was instead living in the castle. It really wasn’t so far off; raised high, Lyonsette Keep was on the skyline…
By David C. Daoust Where Chantilles was focused only on Braidon speaking out against the Baron’s command, and Braidon was focused only on his carelessness with Sir Brutius’s Helm; Lord Elaris, and his men, only saw a hero. A hero that charged into danger to rescue a young girl. The Baron of Lyonsette Keep was…
By David C. Daoust Night had fallen, despite the monks usually being ‘early to bed’ types, this night, they all stood about the abbey’s courtyard, pleased Khadory was home and healthy. Brommus listened silently as Khadory relayed his morning to him, the extra work that he had taken on. The boy confessed that he had…
By David C. Daoust Ancient Llewelynn was far different than the duchy palatine it would later become. The natives of these ancient lands were simple ‘hunter/gatherers,’ led by Druids of religions long lost to the world of men. Yet, the native peoples were expunged of this druidic culture long before the Northlanders knew they were…
By David C. Daoust Minutes turned to hours for the two denizens of Bladeshire trapped within the temporal bubble with the two wild denizens of the Darwood… There was no way to know how long, exactly, they were trapped. Although Khadory, absolutely, had the time to think about it. Nothing but time, really. The sun…
By David C. Daoust She was there again in the dark, spiraling staircases stretched above, below. It was a tower of darkness. That is what she thought of it, what she named it. She had found herself here on several occasions, forever climbing; climbing until she found a point to leave. Every time she awoke,…
By David C. Daoust The Church of the Graven Tesserae spread from the Tetrarchy of Keirkanland (the Northern Kingdoms), all the way to the Duchy of Llewelynn. Each chapel, temple, and cathedral– an embassy to the Chambers of Light. Envoys of the Light’s Reach– The Church recognized only one God overall, yet the clergy, itself,…
By David C. Daoust Khadory had overestimated his ability to catch up with Chantilles. The russet haired girl had vanished into the forest before he even managed to make it out of the fields. He summoned a bit more energy than he cared to and, with a bit of a grimace that he had to,…
By David C. Daoust The village around Bladeshire Abbey was a small one. At its center was the Village Green, a common area the families shared. The Green, along with the Parish Church were places the villagers would congregate. Each had their own wattle and daub cottage, where their entire family would eat and sleep….
By David C. Daoust The small group of riders approached at a saunter. At the lead was the baron himself, to his right, the Pound Keep (Chantilles’ father). At their back, a group of men-at-arms, each armed and armored as they trailed behind their Lord. Abe appeared from the tall grass, a mass of dark…
By David C. Daoust The raucous barking continued as the mastiff charged out of Redcap Creep. A bark that seemed to echo into the distance as the frantic dog, freed from its impending doom, got as far from the sucking wetlands as fast as it possibly could. The young girl, Chantilles, could hear the old…
by David C. Daoust Homespun, simple clothing, mired in dirt, right hand clutched a rather swordlike stick as the left held one of the leather straps that fastened a wooden shield to his arm. Both of which were exactly what they appeared to be– driftwood, scrap. The dark-haired boy, crouched in the underbrush under a…
by David C. Daoust PARAGON The cold breeze skimmed the tall grass of the open plains. The sky above was the color of steel between clouds of grey. There was rumbling to the north, though it seemed there was always rumbling to the north. For to the north was the great citadel; the three thrones…
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