Stories from the “Palæoboreanica”

Lostworlds Phantasy.

Chapter I:
“Serenity’s Sorrow”

Fairytale Phantasy. A Forest Nymph named Serenity finds herself discontent with immortality, and after falling in love with a mortal, sets upon a deadly, perilous quest to attain at any cost from those who govern the world’s natural forces whatever quality of mortality may allow her to leave the forest and raise a family with her new-found love, accompanied along the way by many friends and impeded at every turn by savage monsters, bloodthirsty fiends, and sadistic sprights bowned to dismember, flay, and disembowel anyone foolish enough to pervade their chaudron-strewn and bloodied lairs.

Sword & Sorcery. The Paladin of Trinity, Cavalier of Eurinth and Templar of Arady Sir Ardwin Harrison O’Dunloft, and his wife the Trinitian Paladina, Anarcho-Eurinthian Cavaliera [???] and Aradian Templaress Dame Kerridwen Ardwinsbride O’Dunloft, the Orcslayer Lord William Peter of Huxleigh (Liam O’Huxley) and his wife the Drakeslairess Lady Williamina Litha of Huxleigh (Mina Na’Huxley), the Trinitian Dedicant of the Wicked Order of ___, the Initiate Saint Foxley of Cottwood Hollow (Mister Jonathan the Foxley) and his wife the Trinitian Priestess of the Wicked Order of ___, the Witchess Christa ___ ___ (Mistress Loreena MisJonathan), the Lightelven Monk and Apothecary, Brother Dalen Llanley Lyrius (Daley Lyrius) of the Lyrian Faxing and his Elven-raised Human wife, Healer Aryanna Lyrius, itinerant Black-Marketer Lawbane the Rowan (Son of Pirate-King Lawbane the Red) and his wife Larissa NaRowan, all set out with the help of the tracker, Ranger ___, to find their abducted children: Lodin MacArdwin O’Dunloft (Lodin MacArdwin; nine years aged), Lad William II of Huxleigh (Will O’Huxley; fourteen years aged), Alyssandra NicJonathan O’Dunloch (Ally NicJon; eight years aged), Rylen Llanley Lyrius (Riley Lyrius; ten years aged), Valen Llanley Lyrius (Valey Lyrius; two years aged), Kyrithygatra Denise NaRowan (Kyra NaRowan; eight years aged), and Jady Michelle A’Rowan (Jady A’Rowan; seven years aged). While sharing intelligence, each set of parents reveals having found a note, saying, as translated from the Monitorian dialect of the Saurian tongue, “ Princess Llaraullyn the Ardan of Lightmote, Lastborn of the Laurellynn Sylving and Heir to the Laurel-lynn (Llara Sylving; ten years old) and Liliana of the Lightmote Tyfwings (Lily Tifwing; age unknown), the child LaRue (LaRue; nine years old), Balael the Illyrian (Balen Llanley Lyrius; three years old), [11] The Daughter of Witching, Phoenix Numeness Renate = Alyssandra The Son of Virtue, Harbinger of Something = Lodin

Sword & Sorcery. The Trinitian Page-Errant, Squire Lodin O’Dunloft, jeopardizes his future as a Paladin and enlists the help of the Trinitian Pagess Damsel LaRue as well as a group of his thief-friends from Dunstoke: Will Huxley, Riley Lyrius, Llara Sylving, and Lily Tyfwing; when he freelances a campaign to rid the hamlet of Breham of a local monster, the Wyrm of Breham. In exchange, the Lord and Council of Elders of Breham have agreed to pay the self-proclaimed “Slayers of Breham” a hefty wyrmgild upon confirmation of the kill, and to allow the Slayers to keep for themselves any treasure the Wyrm might’ve been hoarding in its wyrmbarg.

Mannerpunk. The Imegesis describes the trials Squire Lodin MacArdwin O’Dunloft and Damsel LaRue must endure to prepare themselves for their inductions into the Knighthood, Lodin as a potential Templar of Arady for his desire to lead civilians in the fight against the oppressors and his close friendship with those made thieves and outlaws by the oppression of government, LaRue as a potential Templaress of Lucifer for her unrelenting hatred of the power and authority that is, as she opines should not be, unequally allotted among men, and both as Cavaliers(?) of the Nation of Eurinth. It describes the ritual tests Alyssandra the Foxley must dure as she waits for the tenth (thirteenth) lunar month of her year-and-a-day Dedication period to come and end. It describes Jady being accepted into the Thiefhood via the local chapter of the Arcane Sorority known as the Sisterhood of the Shades, or more informally as “Shadow Sistren”. student of the various Larcenous Arts, including thiefcraft, forgery, and tomb raiding, at the local Black School of Rooks/Rookery/Rookeries/Rogueries in Duncoln? sponsored by her swain, a Duncolonial Black School alumnus, Durst Pencarden, of the Underfoot Lairs Guild of the Blue Heron in Duncheap, after having committed at least a single act of every class and order of the rooks/rookeries / rogueries becomes one of the Grey Sistren, the unspecialized lowest-tier within the Sisterhood of the Shadow’s loose, chromatic social structure (others include the Silver Sistren [burglars, filchers, stealers, rooks, shoplifters], the Yellow Sistren [], the Green Sistren [sylvan raiders, itinerant contraband-mongers, smugglers, vagrants, wilders, highway robbers, fleers(?)], the Blue Sistren [pirates, BLANK; sea-faring thieves of the waters and air-faring BLANKs of the skies], the Purple Sistren [],the Scarlet Sistren [prostitutes, escorts, espials, extortionist teases, gold-diggers and black widows], the Gold Sistren [tomb raiders, appraisers], the Jacynthe/Yellowred Sistren [], the Blood Sistren [freelance assassins, mercenaries, hit-women, bounty huntresses, Orcslairesses], the Black Sistren [highly successful “multicolor” sistren, very often mystagogues of the rogueries], and the White Sistren [rogue clerics and mystagogues under a vow of poverty who give all they acquire to their guilds, attending the Aradian chapels and shrines therein], with still others rumored, legendary, or widely unknown) “Hungry men don't ask, they take,” - Kenneth Kolb renegade/renege > renegade (warlock or betrayer) triune adj. “three-in-one” > triunity, not trinity bourg, borough, burg, berg, Castellany castellar castellan castle-guard castlery castlet incastellated castellated Castle, palace, schloss, Reverie/revery; air-castle; castle in the sky chateau > chatelet > chatelaine/ambit / chatelaine: a chain formerly worn at the waist by women; for carrying a purse or set of keys, etc.

Mannerpunk. An aging but renowned Paladin of Trinity, Sir Ardwin Harrison O’Dunloft, fellow Trinitian Paladin Sir Isenganger Elvynson O’Dunham and his Page, Squire ___ Isenson O’Dunham, the Scribe, ___ Harris “Harry Bullcock” Bullard the ___ O’Reignley, and a newly initiated Witchling, Neochrista Callipatra (Alyssandra the Foxley), after being called to the Dunllan Monastery, are charged to travel with Bishop ___ O’Dunllan and High Prince ___ of Eurinth north through the Eurinthian mountains, up the eastern Dianic Alps into Alpine Lands of Carpathy, north through the west wing of the Phoenician Alps, through the hostile Septentrian wastelands and into the land of Centaury to negotiate upon neutral ground with envoys of the Sovereignty, Viceroy Raphaiathan the Mortander of the Empyreal Office, Vicereine Ssariah the Illyrian of the Kingdom of Darkelvome, Prime-minister ___ of the Parliament, Legislator ___ of the Congression, Vice-Pretor(?) ___ of the Senate, Vice-president ___ of the Holy Court, Ambassador ___ of the United States of Transylvany, Archbishop ____ of the United Church of Transylvany, and Colonel ___ of the Empyreal Foreign Legions, the exchange of the captured Espial, Balael the Illyrian / Balen Llanley Lyrius, for the sacred artifact known as the Ardstaff (also known as the ___ of Arda). Led by the Rangeress Lindsay Ryder of the Norfolk, companied to them by Yeomaid ___ ___ of Fellcaster along with local guide, diplomat, and counsel Elfrede Morrowice Valing(?) of Snowvale(?) and widely renown warrior-clansman Thane Horrid IV of Carpathy, the team braves ever-colder extremes and evermore-dire beasts as their eight woolly abadas — Gouger, Longhorn, Quake, Behemoth, Rocky, Thunder, Beast, and Fluffy — take them further into the snowy evergreen forests of the frozen north whilst they journey from remote settlement to frigid outpost, fighting off attacks from feral mountain tribesfolk and wild mountain beasts alike. Upon arrival in southern Centaury, Elfrede Morrowice brings legendary warriors Sir Ardwin and Thane Horrid before ___ ___ of a local Centaur Tribe known as the ___, who are of mixed Centaurian ancestry, and enlists their help as secret allies, should the envoys of the Sovereignty attempt to pull any tricks. When the envoys of the Sovereignty reveal that they Eurinthians have stolen the Ardstaff from the forbidden realm of the Centaurian Labyrinth, however, things turn terribly wrong: allies become enemies, neutral ground becomes enemy territory, and heroes fight for their lives.

The Phantasmata tells the story of a band of thieves attempting to rob the ruined estate of a great treasure hunter.

Dark Phantasy. The sisters Jady Michelle A’Rowan the Dunstoker and Abigail Renée NicLyrian NaRowan ___ lead a small band of thieves comprising Jady’s swain, Durst MacKennardson Pencarden O’Duncheap, Durst’s cousin, Elvis Ryderson Strathbury O’Reigncaster, Jady’s longtime friend and fellow Dunstoker, William II O’Huxley, and Abigail’s whilom guildfellows, Faxwyn Leathwaite of Llanllyn Ormetarn, Kara Xantha of Fayton Keldawray, and Derry Ayer of Dryopoly to the city of Harcroft Hollow, in an attempt to plunder the nearby ruin of Harcroft Manor: a virtual palace that sits behind the crumbling castle walls of the great Harcroft Estate. They find many restless spirits residing within the building, spirits killed in some of the most gruesome and horrifying ways imaginable, as the sister-thieves search the ancient libraries, studies, cellars, and vaults, and for clues that will allow them to uncover the locations of the legendary Harcroft tombs, wherein these varied aforesaid places lie treasures of immeasurable wealth: coins of every style, mint, and denomination of every period culture’s coinage; beaded wristlets, bracelets, frontlets, coronets, headbands, wristbands, armbands, anklets, belts, bracers, and sashes made from every precious gem or rare stone ever known, all styled according to their culture of origin; rare wines made from fruits and flowers now extinct or almost impossible to procure, and ales of lost recipe, any of which to be found by the drinking bottle, storage bottle, or keg; pelts, claws, bones, and teeth of animals too dangerous, rare, or extinct to harvest more of; nearly every medium of exchange from every concurrent civilization’s monetary system or custom of trade; bottomless purses, pouches, belt-purses or pouches, scabbards, sheaths, satchels, knapsacks, packs, bundling bags, many-pocketed petty coats, sur coats, dusters, and cowls, as well as jewelry boxes, chests, and many more such items of holding, none of which should ever lade; camel’s-eye needles, wands, and hoops, through any of which may pass creatures or objects of incredible size; vials, phials, flasks, beakers, drinking bottles, jars, storage bottles, jugs, and kegs of all manner of elixir, potion, or ___; jars of nigh every known magical herb, cream, or powder, many thought lost to the ages and others altogether unknown; magical weapons, armor, and ritual tools; ancient grimoires and magic tomes, and spellbooks by column and pile; and lastly the legendary Windstaff (also known as the ___ of Winda), buried somewhere amongst the tombs, all of which are guarded by the Draugs of the most ruthless feudal lords the region had ever known.

Necropolis tells the story of...

Dark Phantasy. Sir Lodin Ardwinson O’Dunloft, a newly inducted Paladin of Trinity and Templar of Arady, receives his from his betrothed Alyssandra, the Witchess Christa Callipatra ___, his first mission as a full-fledged Aradian Knight: to travel into a dread necropolis aptly named Necroy, the capital of Necropy, in the midst of the Valley of Lethe on the Eyland of Necrosy, a place said to hold all manner of undead abomination staid only by the Monitors of Saury Minor across the Necrotic Strait (who consider undead carrion a delicacy), help find the Chthonicon, named also The Obsidian Grimoire of Pope Chthonicus the Immortal: a dark tome reputed to hold unspeakable evil, and return it safely to the Trinitian Hierophants of the Monastic Academy in Elderstow of Eurinth. He bids his betrothed Alyssandra farewell as she orders him meet her in Atham of Anarchy for reasons she cannot yet divulge upon completion of the campaign into Lethaleigh, and sets off as ordered with a company of a thousand Palatine Footmen and Cavaliers, accompanied by eight Dragoneers, only to find himself the sole survivor of two centuries of heavy cavalry and eight centuries of infantry after the privateer ship ___ takes down three Dragoneers with their Drakes and five longboats, three centuries of Mortiferean Templars, including two centuries of Papal Footmen and a century of Papal Cavaliers, along with ten Papal Dragoons, destroy over three centuries of his compatriots and four of the remaining five Trinitian Dragoneers and their mounts in Necropoly, and a mysterious plague in the Calvarian Cemeteries followed by a violent tempest of blood and bile along the highway through Lethaleigh fell the remaining two hundred and some Paladins and their mounts. Now forced to wander the streets of the necropolis alone, Lodin meets a seductive stranger with whom he must work to stay alive whilst resisting the temptation to give into her beauty, but after finding and using the Chthonicon and replacing his shed battle-worn armor and blunted weapons with the full plate, shield, and “glaive” he discovers in the crypt of Necronicus: Emperor of the late Necropian Empire, High-King of Necrosy, King of Necroy, Archbishop of the Necrojan Temple of Mortifer, Mortiferean Grand High Priest of the Papal Monastic Order and Archlegate of the Mortiferean Templars, and Vicar to Pope Chthonicus himself, spiritual head of the Papal Empery, including the Necropian Empire, the Morticinean Empire, the Lethacian Empire, the Cacoan Empire, the nomadic Phagean Empire, and the Necrinthian Empire, in a desperate attempt to survive a hopeless siege by the late Necrojan Templars of the city’s undead, he slowly begins to succumb to the evil within himself as he and the beautiful stranger work to find the dock near the abandoned lighthouse and escape from the Eighland of Necrosy by the shortest route aback to the Meridian Peninsula.

Dark Phantasy. The Witchess of Arady, Christa Callipatra ___ (Alyssandra the Foxley), calls the Eurinthian Elder Paladin and Gayan Templar, Sire Ardwin Harrison, the Eurinthian Paladin and Aradian Templar, Lodin Ardwinson, the Eurinthian Paladina and Luciferean Templaress, Dame LaRue, the Eldermonk and Wizard, Father Dalen Llanley Lyrius, the Nun, Sister Valen Llanley Lyrius, the Espial, Balen Llanley Lyrius

Rise of the Sovereignty tells the story of the coming to power of the first empire.

Mannerpunk. Chronicles the foundations and history of the Sovereignty, from the birth and formative years of the young Princess Lilithena the Illyrian of the Darkelves, believed to fulfill the prophecy of the Golden Drow, her rise to presidency over the Holy Court of Transylvany, her establishment of the Sovereignty and self-appointment as Empress, her subsequent triumph over the Seely Court of Transylvany and conquest of the Faylands, the planting of her granddaughter Ssariah’s son Balael the Illyrian as an unwitting child-espial, the gathering of the four primary elemental staves, including the Illyrian Empress’s journey into faraway land of Saury Mayor to obtain the Pyrstaff (also known as the ___ of Pyra) and the political trickery leading not only to the Saurian alliance, but to the formation of the United Sovereign Alliance itself, her appointment of Countess ___ of Darkelvome as Imperatrix of Transylvany, Regnance ___ of ___ as Imperator of Anatoly, Regent __ of ___ as Imperator of Meridy, Rex and Regina ___ of Centaury as Imperator and Imperatrix of Septentry, Viceroy Päällikkö Aimon and Vicereine Satu Merin of ___ as Imperator and Imperatrix of Dysmy, ___ ___ and __ ___ of ___ as Imperator[s] of Occidentaly, Embassador___ as Imperator of Saury Minor, and herself as High Empress of the whole of the New Sovereignty. Author's note: Not entirely comfortable with the use of the word drow as a synonym for darkelf. “Drow” via hypothetical Middle English *dreough(e). Akin to Gaelic dreag or driug, from Old English *dreog, Anglo-Saxon dreag, akin to Old Norse draugr. I might therefore wish to in the future use the word drow for mummy-like or litch-like undead creatures who guard treasure.

High Phantasy. The unsteady peace between the Confederate Shire-states of Eurinth and the conquered Faylands of Transylvany draws closer to its inevitable end, and tensions mount as posturing on both sides near explosive extremes. It’s only a matter of time till the cold war ends and open fighting breaks out. With the Faylands ruled by the Sovereignty and the Confederacy of Eurinth now quickly degrading into oppressive military states whose citizens allow themselves to be ruled by fear, those remaining few who refuse to be intimidated by the terrorism of their own governments have sought refuge and freedom in whatever nearest neutral grounds they might find, turning these settlements into havens for thieves and outlaws. One such settlement, at the easternmost end of the Transmeridian Pass between the mountain-Freedom of Kirkland at the edge of the east wing of the Phoenician Alps to the north and the northernmost portion of the Meridian Sea to the south, east of the Viridian Forest and Pentreath Pass of the Freedom of Sylvany and north of Stack Bay, in a holmings deep within the shrouding mysts of the Anarchian marshlands known to obstruct all but a single highway of stone or brick or rope or log keeping in shaky stead that portion of the Transmeridian Pass, built upon the largest and closest eylands besprending the myrky waters, an ayton-cluster hied Atham soon finds itself under siege when the Sovereignty, having covertly acquired unwitting allies in many lands surrounding Meridy: Carpathy, Septentry, Anatoly, Dysmy, Occidentaly, and northern Austrea; reforms itself into the United Sovereign Alliance, and moves to conquer the Eurinthian Confederacy. Captured by the Alliance Infantry and Dragoons in Atham, then intercepted by Dragoneers of an upstart insurrectionist movement led by the Paladina Dame LaRue and organized in response to the invasion of northern Eurinth by the Alliance, Alyssandra Foxley and Llarallyn Sylving must aid their countrymen in making their stand against the Alliance at the Portborough of Eastavon on the inveresk of the Avon Trinity, which cleaves Reignleigh in twain eft pouring adown as the Mynydd Falls from the sprawling Mynyddllyn Cistern at the erstwhile Confederate Palace’s height amid the great Ophidian peaks into the city behind the inner high wall that was carved from the encircling innermost scarps of the jagged Zanclean Fells that guard the near shires of the vast Reignley plains from the Dianic Alps without, and flows under each great wall’s central gate and rives unto the very Meridian Sea through each of Valley Trinity’s three leighs: through Reignleigh as the Reignavon, through Midleigh as the Middelavon, and through Easterleigh as the Eastavon. With Eurinth’s capital and most of its great cities captured and almost all under siege by the Alliance, it’s now up to LaRue’s fellow Paladins under Alyssa, the Wicked Priestess Christa Callipatra ___, as well as the thieves, bowmen, and common folk under Llara, last of the Laurellynn Sylving, to hold the recaptured Portborough of Eastavon and cut the enemy’s main supply line at its source.

Dark Phantasy. After the attack on the hostelry in Atham, William Huxley and Riley Lyrius are captured and transported by a terrible new ally of the Sovereignty to Reigncaster and placed in the underground prison complex built onto the dungeon basement of Crofting Tower, the twenty-sixth out of forty-eight southern towers between the Twin Towers of ____ — atween which the Reignavon exits Reignshire — in the center of the Outer Great Wall and the Aradian Alps which tether the tail of the Dianic Alps to the Luciferean Penalps of the Eurinthian Peninsula in West Meridy; where Will and Riley find themselves locked in adjacent, small, dank, filthy cells with nothing but a layer of straw covering the floor to sleep in and a hole for defecation and urination which apparently empties into an oubliette, as the tortured wailing that fills the prison complex grows louder from this hole whenever Will or Riley need to piss or shit, and smoke spews forth from the hole as the screaming grows louder before it abruptly stops, as if whatever unfortunate souls have been left un-crushed-to-death by being the most recently packed into the oubliette were burned alive when the pit became too full to stuff another body into the hole. There seems no hope of rescue: there are one hundred towers built into the Outer Great Wall alone, with the only access points being from the street atop the two-hundred-foot wall linking one tower to the next; though there would doubtless be some underground access point from the Central or Inner Great Wall, or the city itself, or even a network of these, one would have to first get inside the Outer Great Wall, possible only by boat through the heavily guarded Twin Towers of __ or by draking, the chance of success in the lone attempt of either being hopelessly nill. But when one of the Blackguard becomes overly confident in taunting the prisoners and places his hand on one of the bars of William’s cell, the Man-Ogre pulls the guard through the bars of the cage and flings his flattened body against the wall, crushing whatever bones or organs might still be intact. William then finds that the guard had no keys on him, and waits for more guards to come and open the cell either to kill William or remove the Blackguard’s body, and William escapes, eventually finding a guard with keys and frees Riley. The two begin freeing the captive of every occupied cell they come across as they travel through the prison complex, which apparently follows the Great Wall, building an army and collecting weapons off the dead Blackguards. They kill every guard and rescue every unfortunate soul left to die of thirst or crushing still alive in the many oubliettes and open the vaulted door of the dungeon of every tower they pass beneath, amassing an army of thousands. Eventually they reach the large dungeon chamber beneath the Twin Towers of ___ and the river running between them, with the once-president High King ___ of Eurinth, his High Queen ___ along with dozens of former nobles who all had been good and kind to the common folk, and so free them as well. After two days and having freed all there were to free in the more than one-hundred-mile-long prison complex, and killing every Blackguard that durst stand in their way, some begin to search the upper levels for food and supplies, while others search for a way out. They soon find they’d been walled in except for the exits to the roadways atop the Great Wall, but they can’t possibly jump safely from such a great distance, and trying to reach one side of the wall or the other to escape into the mountains would be impossible, as towers were surely built at either end to prevent this manner of entry or exit; they were left to feed upon each other once whatever food they could find ran out, though they had found plentiful water gushing forth from large pipes and into whirlpools in a large tub in the midst of the main dungeon, which ran along a single, small, enclosed aqueduct running from one end of the wall to the other — an aqueduct that could be tapped for water at regular intervals, providing them with plenteous water. As William and Riley search the upper levels of the towers for some sort of emergency escape route, they find three prisoners in adjacent cells at the highest level, above even the Blackguard post, of ___ Tower: three court jesters(?) dressed in black motleys intended to denote their “dishonorable conduct” but also the intention that their stay should be relatively brief. One of them is a man who goes by the name Xenon, while the other twain are twin girls who go by the names Xeny and Xena, and are both Xenon’s lovers. In thanks for being freed, and out of loyalty to the Confederacy, Xenon decides to show everyone the way out. Will, Riley, and the three Xens are shocked to find when they return to the lower levels that the Ogren were devouring Hobbs, Gnomes, Cluricauns, Leprechauns, , and Dwarrow preying upon the Hoblings as well whilst the Ogren feasted also upon the Dwarrow; Humans and Elves were banding together and fending off the Ogren, but even some of them could not resist stealing an already slain Hobling as the supposed certainty of needing to result to cannibalism in order to survive coupled with the erenow pent-up aggression of weeks, months, years, and for some, decades of the mentally destabilizing effects of the inherently torturous nature of confinement and captivity had triggered the Ogren and Dwarrow to kill first, lest be killed, setting in motion a chain reaction. Riley, Will, and the three Xens find as many as they can who’ve yet to revert to such primitive behavior, who of course were the ones who’d spent the least time confined and suffered to the least extent the inhumanity of imprisonment and explain to them there is a way out. Slowly the others catch on, and with the hope of freedom now upon them the violence gradually ceases as the thousands of freed captives flock behind Riley, Will, and the Xens as Xenon leads them toward the fountain at the center of the aqueducts in the main chamber beneath the Reignavon. Xenon explains that the reason the ducts stay filled with water and yet the water level in the pool never wends adown when the ducts are tapped and why it never overflows when the ducts stay untapped is because there is no underground vessel of water to fill — the water is constantly draining into a lake in an underground cavern less than a mile away, and that lake drains through an underwater tunnel that lets out in the Aradian Sea; however, there is another river leading out of the cavern which lets out in a cavern at the roots of the Luciferean Penalps, whence a climb as leisurely as a stroll up a flat hill would lead them to the mouth of a cave at the edge of the Penalps in Duncolnshire, near Duncheap. Xenon jumps into the pool first and pops up in the underground lake nobbut a moment later, followed by Xena, Xeny, William, Riley, High King ___, High Queen ___, and one freed man or woman after another. The High King and High Queen complain they have to go back for their son, but all others agree to do so should be suicide for themselves and certain death for High Prince ___. So they continue unto daylight.

Mannerpunk. After the attack on the hostelry in Atham, Jady A’Rowan and Lily Tyfwing hide out in an alleyway to come up with a plan to save their friends, and decide their best course is to travel to Dunchester in Duncolnshire, which should even were all of Eurinth overtaken by the Alliance surely be the last stronghold of the Palatine, Wicked, and Monastic Orders, and where thieves and outlaws would flock and band together to make their stand against the New Sovereignty. But she’s spotted in the alleyway by an Executive of the Blackguard: a politan division of the Sovereignty whose duty is to patrol the streets of poleis of all sorts, enforcing political policy and given police offices such as that of a laytenant who enforces the lay of the land as the tenant of the lay and who is expected by his police office to ensure that others obey the lay as well; essentially just hired thugs paid officially by politicians to carry crossbows, shackles, and bludgeons or cudgels, and bully those who don’t follow the arbitrary rules that the corrupt laymakers put to parchment in their laybooks at whatever their evil whim; though as laymen go, the Blackguard are certainly more evil than other police officers, as the policies they enforce and the liberties granted them by holding police offices make them somewhat more dangerous than the old City Guard. Though the Blackguard occupying all offices tend to come heavily armored, this Executive is, as the Detective would be equipped to detect, equipped to execute: he wears an iridium-plated-steel-ringmail-covered gorget with iridium-plated steel-spikes around the collar and lining the gorget’s arching high above each shoulder, iridium-plated-steel-ringmail-covered gauntlets with iridium-plated steel-spikes on the knuckles, on wristlet straps and straps at the rearmost end just afore the elbow, iridium-plated-steel-ringmail-covered leather boots with iridium-plated steel-spikes on buckled straps around the top as well as on the heals and steel-toes, and an iridium-plated-steel codpiece with an iridium-plated steel-spiked waste-strap, all of which are of polished black leather armor, hard as oak all but where needing to bend; an iridium-plated steel helm rounded to contour the shape of the human head with a t-shaped opening in the front and a spiked comb, an iridium-plated steel-ringmail tunic with white padding beneath and matching strossers, and long black cape with white lining hanging from the back of his gorget. Though he has an iridium-plated steel waraxe with a circular blade (or two half-circle blades) at each end — a weapon designed for the effortless decapitation and/or dismemberment of many foes, strapped to his back by an iridium-plated steel-studded black leather baldric, a shorter, one-hand version of the same weapon, an iridium-plated three-balled heavy steel flail, an iridium-plated steel scourge (a nine-balled light flail with extremely long, tapering, whip-like chains), and multiple sickles and styles of blades, all forged of adamant and plated in iridium, sheathed all over his belt and baldric, and an iridium-plated steel spiked-longshield. He decides, like most of Jady’s would-be attackers, to attempt to force himself upon her instead of killing her. After the officer pins her to the wall Jady quickly removes his weapons and armor, feeds him his own severed genitals and dices him into small enough pieces to be almost instantly devoured by local birds and rats, and dons what she can of his armor and weapons and takes whatever else she can fit into her pack, and begins to walk out of the city in disguise. She’s quickly recognized due to her unmistakable proportions, however, and is forced to flee. She manages to hijack a carriage and make a narrow escape into the Viridian Forest, whither she finds herself pursued by a squadron of Mounted Blackguards led by a Papal Cavalier. Under a volley of arrows, a barrage of spears, and a hail of lead pellets, Jady hits the ground near an overturned carriage and fallen mount(?). Jady is awakened sometime later by Tyf in a large room of layered wroughtwood with many a sort of flowering and fruit-bearing vine intertwining the branches of the walls and ceiling, through which she can see she’s high in the trees of the forest. She lies on a bed of soft foliage under an almost satin-like blanket of silky, woven moss, under which she finds herself nude but for the leaves binding her wound. The bed sits canopied within veils of long, paly green beard-moss glittering in the light radiating from across the room where a dresser of Human-craft sits opposite the raised bed, upon which is a covered bowl of fire-fruit, bathing the room in soft, amber glow. From the wall behind the dresser hangs a large, horizontally oblong mirror of Dwarven make. On the wall to her left is a narrow archway in the vine-tangled wroughtwood of the wall for a doorway, though it has nobbut a small, waist-high gate for a door, and a circular opening in the wall for a window spaced evenly on either side of the doorway between it and the nighest other wall. In the far corner of the room stands a full-length mirror of Lightelven construction, vertically oblong and framed in gold encrusted with stones of diamond set in silver, ruby set in rhodium, emerald set in electrum, topaz set in palladium, jazel set in platinum, amethyst set in iridium, and amber set in ___. Through said doorway is a balcony with a wroughtwood railing and floor that merely continues that of the room in which Jady now sits up in her bed: a layer of dirt packed into the gnarls and bends in the great branches used to grow the wroughtwood of floor, thicker but otherwise just as, and interwoven with branches just alike, those used in the cultivation rest of the room, and sown into that dirt to solidify it more greatly a carpet of trimmed, silken grass, patches of clovers, floor-sprawling ivy climbing the walls to meet the curtains of beard-moss draping from the walls and along the ceiling amidst dangling vines of grapes and light-bearing starberries shining like tiny fire-fruits, growing both spottily and in bunches, and ferns of all kinds growing all about the floor and in many of the nooks within the walls intended for use as shelves, as pitcher-plants grow all over the walls themselves, not only helping to keep the room vermin-free but helping in their fashion to light the room by catching fireflies. To Jady’s right is nary a window but two arched wooden doors, one closed but unlatched, and the other open to a small room containing a stacked logs and branches cemented together by dirt, compost, and tar, though in this room sweet-smelling flowers seem to cover all the walls to mask the scent of compost and tar, to an effect that could in no imaginate invention be topped. Atop the stacked logs were two stone basins: one upper and to the left, one lower and to the right. The upper seems to fill by a constantly flowing pair of taps in the wall, though no indication is given of what the taps are tapping (likely a nearby hot-spring for the hot-water tap on the left and a mynydd in the Phoenician Alps for the cold-water tap on the right), then empty through a hole in the bottom to the lower basin, which has a hole of its own in the bottom, a much larger hole, through which the water continues on, likely to the stream below; the room is obviously some sort of personal lavatory, the walls of which are adorned not only with scented flowers but a surprisingly great abundance of pitcher-plants, this being the room most beloved by vermin, helping to keep the room well-lit even on the darkest nights by lining its walls with glowing, paly green pitchers of bright viridescent beetles. Jady is soon visited by the Woodelven Monk and Nursemaid, Sister Ivynys Kelding Tillies, who brings her a meal and converses with her briefly. Jady learns that the Elders of this secluded treetop Elfton seem content to ignore the war raging on all around. A wounded Jady begins to recover rapidly, thanks to the Elves, from wounds that would surely otherwise have been fatal. But in her short time with the Sylvan Elves she learns from her Lightelven friends Wralen Kellmere Radian and Leillyn ___ Arien that not only have they done nothing to take up arms against the Sovereignty, but that their presence in the Viridian Forest has remained mostly unknown to outsiders for centuries. As each day passes the Elves who inhabit the treetop Elfton grow more fearful that they will be discovered, that their lack of preparation and their cowardice in refusing to come to the aid of their countrymen will spell their doom. Only when Jady is confronted by Abigail’s father, Lyrian Acacias, as well as her own recently estranged father, Lawbane the Rowan, and learns the truth behind her mother’s double life, does she manage to find within herself the conviction to go before the Elders and plead her case. lead the Woodelves in taking action against the Alliance despite the objections of the Elfton’s Elders.

Insurrection tells the story of...

Sword & Sorcery? Having successfully defended Portborough of Eastavon alongside Dame LaRue, Alyssandra the Foxley, and Llarallyn Sylving ride to Dunchester guided in hopes that it managed a similar stand against the onslaught of the Sovereignty, but upon arrival find only a half-dozen survivors, such as the Elder Paladin, Sire Ardwin O’Dunloft, and the Hierophant, Grandfather Daley Lyrius, amidst the bodies of thousands of men, women, and children: all once Trinitian Clergy and their families. The small group makes camp in what shelter they can find, thinking all is lost, but in the following days help begins to arrive, first from the Viridian Forest, then from Duncheap. Soon they have communication with Portborough, and what was sown as a modest resistance may soon yield insurrection.

“In those sparkling, glimmering ruby eyes he saw something he could never have anticipated, never have expected, nor even imagined. Within the depths of those scarlet rings was sincerity and beauty. The love of self above others, the valuing of one’s own desires above the needs and desires of others, a thirst for power and to force others into one’s own mold, the hunger for revenge, everything Lodin had been taught was dishonorable and wretched. It was all there, and yet behind it, something more. There was a passion, a faith, and an inner-strength. There was a love for the very ethos and ideals for which Lodin had always felt such contempt. In those eyes there resided a warmth, a welcoming embrace that touted power over love, and yet loved so very much the ownership of power. No conflict, no doubt, no moral quandary of any kind. There was a purity there, a certain honesty, a truth the likes of which he’d never before encountered. An evil so pure and so honest that it seemed almost opposite of everything Lodin had come to know evil by; an evil powered by the most intense of passions and the greatest of love. In the center of her eyes a sea of velvet darkness beyond that of a flawless black rose surrounded by a sea of blood spilt of the most innocent of creatures. It awed him, stirred him, violated him, and humbled him; an evil so wholesome and untainted that it molested his core, his soul, and left his spirit naked and frightened. “He shivered inwardly has he stared on, being drawn into the vilements of her convictions, savoring every sick, twisted pleasure this molestation of spirit awakened within him. He felt the darkness coursing through his veins, corrupting every part of him. “He could feel it now with every beat of his heart. This was his purpose. This was his destiny. This was the moment he had awaited throughout all his petty, pathetic little life. This was the season. This was the day. This was the hour. This was the moment. This was the heartbeat that he was created for. ”

Sword & Sorcery? Sir Lodin Ardwinson O’Dunloft and Abigail Renée NicLyrian NaRowan make their way north from the eyland of Necrosy via the long-agone Sutherpont crossing which lay now at the bottom of the Necrotic Strait save for the collapsed ruins found at Nortreath of Old Susset on the eyland of Necrosy and at Suthertreath, still crumbling amidst the new and rebuilt docks of Southport in Sutheringshire, where the twain immediately discover that the Shire-states of Eurinth are all either occupied or under siege by the United Sovereign Alliance: the New Sovereignty. They also see a Papal (troop ship) docked there, dubbed the USS Orca (obviously a renaming of an older vessel) with its sail decorated as what is indicated to them as the Union Banner of the New Sovereignty.

Sword & Sorcery? After the public massacres of most of the former Priesthood in Eurinth, Christa Callipatra _____ must travel in the midst of a mass exodus of her Trinitian sistren and brethren across the Meridian Sea to the Republic of Eutopy, where she must make her way south through the Eutopian Alps and beyond the Eutopian border into the Holy Land of Paladom to seek out the ancient city of Heliopolis I, where the first Palace of Trinity was erected.

Hellscape tells the story of...

Bangsian Phantasy.

Chaos & Virtue: Sovereignty: prelude

A day in dwelling, of darkness naught Yet the town still troubled and terror-wrought There was worry today of what would come Fate we feared in the darkness from Béowyn’s bane, as the night before The Dark Elves, called Drow or Dokkaelfar Panic gripped the people, with seizing power Dread grew as the day waned to dour Under nightfall nigh, the Dark Elves neared And fighters forgot what it was they feared As the battle began, their weapons they brought The Dark Elves searching, to steal what they sought On raged the Dark Elves’ relentless raid In darkness not could the Drow be dissuade Shrouded in shadow, their victims shrieked The people’s panic grew, and terror peaked Rescue came round, with Paladins’ wrath Piles of Drow bodies, pitched in their path The remaining Dark Elves retreated, and began to run By then, by day, the damage was done Littered like garbage, the cadavers lay Even the sun seemed dark that day Bodies to burry, through the air their stench blew Could this happen again, another, anew? Survivors were few, and fraught with fear Among them I, in Idlestone here Among them Rioric, a Paladin, righteous and true Among them Rylen, a thief, filled with rue Among them Lodin, Rioric’s Apprentice, my lover dear Among them Llaralynn, a thief, her determined leer Among them Isaac, a farmer from Graelark, come to Idlestone Among them Larissa, his wife, struck by a poison bolt lone Among them Jadia, a thief, Among them William, a thief, Among them Lily, our Pixie peer It was we who were left, in Idlestone here It was we who were left to ken what they caught To surmise what they wanted, to seek what they sought ‘Twas a map they’d stolen, and maybe more Though we knew not what they needed it for Larissa said it showed the lay of the Labyrinth maze That be high in Centauria, through horrors, mists, and haze

In regard to Lilithena, High Empress of Faelore, Supreme Chancelloress of the Unseelie Court, and Daughter of the House of Darkelves -- On this, the tenth day of the thirteenth month, in the year of our Lord and Lady forty-six hundred and thirty-two of the seventh age, His Highness the King Trondolf of Béowyn decrees in wisdom: It is with little trepidation that I must, on behalf of the people of Béowyn, decline your “offer” to have my Kingdom counted among the nation states of the United Sovereign Alliance at this time. Perhaps in some unforeseen future I may believe it to be in benefit of my people to have them allied with the Darkelf houses, the Cluricaun Sects, the Leprechaun Families, the Batling Sidhes, Hobbit Tribes, and the Siren Covens of Faelore. Perhaps, in this same future, I might think it prudent to yield Béowyn’s Senate to the rule of the Unseelie Court, to have Béowyn’s throne counted among the Unseelie Court’s seats. And perhaps someday...

(Chaos & Virtue: Sovereignty: Part 3: Denouement)

Lodin sat in his chambers, hunched over his writing desk, which was pushed up against the cold, stony wall, his eyes occasionally drifting up to the night sky in the window across the small table as the point of his quill danced across the parchment before him: Burdened, stained, trodden under the weight of many thousandfold pains my heart lay trampled and broken, by the hauntings of innumerable guilts that I could not have foreseen when at first I embarked upon my campaign to Necropolis. I feel at times I cannot ignore the filth that clings to my skin as a squalid rag, dampened by the vilest of knavish excrement. The memories I have acquired these past months stir me as I sleep, defile my dreams, and disturb my every waking thought. Verily I fear, that my immortal soul shall be brought captive, enslaved by the atrocities committed by these everstained hands, for I am relentlessly pursued. I can feel the pull of Hell itself upon my bosom, strangling me slowly from within; and rightfully so. I cannot feign innocence. Dozens of men died by my sword as a paladin, and for that I feel no remorse. Truly it is a mournful occasion when anyone should die, whether said anyone may happen to be a Human, a Dwarf, an Ogre, an Elf, or any other race that is borne unto a mother and father, that may have siblings, and in many cases, wives and children. It’s certainly regretful that a soldier is expected to lay down his own life when such is necessary, no matter what his cause. But is it any less heroic of a man to die for his countrymen, simply because his nation might happen to be a nation with which our own countrymen share hostilities? Is an enemy soldier not just as valiant, and brave, and loyal, and admirable as one of our own? Suddenly I find myself scoffing at my words as I write them. There is nothing valiant, brave, or admirable about war. At best it is a necessary evil, and at worst, and by far more likely, it is a means by which those of political prestige might posture and boast to one another. It is a means of enforcement by which whosoever brandishes the grandest military might instill his own virtues upon not only his own people, but upon whosoever shall possess the weaker militia. Yet still we fight. Still we are willing to lay down our lives for kings, and emperors, and presidents, and reagents, and other such loathsome dastards who dress themselves in their pretentious vestments of authority to hide the nakedness beneath in which we are all equal; men whose only true authority is inked on parchment, or assumed by lineage, yet who are at heart no better than any other man, and in the main, far worse. If one unfamiliar with such concepts were to be told that men could achieve great might and power by means of things so trivial as lineage and papyrus, and that they wear such utterly useless rags as judicial robes and kingly cloaks as evidence of this power, well, one would think the teller of such a tale to be truly mad. Yet still we fight. Still we fight on behalf of these gluttonous, covetous fellows for reasons that, under even a child’s scrutiny, would seem wretchedly foolish. We fight, as my own observations have forced me to conclude, because these fiends that we pledge our undying allegiance to, profess to share our ideologies. And I am certain I am not the only soldier to see this. It seems at times that we care for naught but our own narrow-minded principles, easily banding together into brigades of more or less like-minded savages, intent on destroying that which threatens in the slightest our asinine belief in the inherent superiority of our own paltry ethos. Here I am bound by fairness to remind myself that none of this is to say that there isn’t goodness or evil of any kind. I now understand evil in a much more real and intimate manner than I ever could’ve imagined, and have been granted through this evil the clarity of thought to see that I was never truly good to begin with. As a paladin I killed in order to protect, and to protect some by killing others can hardly be the sort of game indulged in by one who is truly upright. Whether it be the soldier’s sense of obligate patriotism or the paladin’s blindness of faith, I see now that no one who kills another can ever hope to be anything more than the lesser of two evils; and it is only by the bastard virtues of patriotism and faith that we blind ourselves to the almost laughably obvious fact that being the lesser evil does not make one good. I feel no remorse for those who died at my hands as a paladin. Perhaps it is because in the blackest depths of my own putrid, shriveled little heart, I yearn to believe that because I was always in the position of being the lesser of two evils, that I am somehow excused from my wrongdoing. Perhaps. It is, after all, this sort of ludicrous attitude that is used to excuse all soldiers and paladins from wrongdoing, no matter the level of evil they might have enacted. It is this very attitude that has so often lead to the treatment of soldiers and paladins as heroes! How foolish we are to delude ourselves so, that we come to truly believe in the so-called heroism of those whose most chivalrous acts are, at best, necessary evils. Here I must digress. In any case, every man that takes up a sword and is willing to kill for whatever the cause, knows that he will likely die by another’s sword for that cause when he meets his adversary in combat. Never have I rushed headlong into a battle without the same willingness to both kill and die as those I fought against, and therein is my only redeeming virtue. I have never been guilty of such cowardice as to seek to exact death upon my foes whilst being unwilling to sacrifice my own life, and I must cherish this, the only remaining shard of whatever virtue I once possessed. Yet, at the same time, it is this same virtue that is shared by every soldier and paladin who is dedicated to his cause, and it is for this reason that I feel no remorse for the enemy soldiers and blackguards who were martyred by my blade as a paladin. Truthfully, no matter how much we may be trained to despise one another, we soldiers are all brethren in our heart of hearts, and no matter how gruesome the method slaughter might be, we all know it to be a near inevitability that we should encounter our fate upon the bloodstained sword of a fellow soldier. I can only conclude that this pain that plagues so deeply my foul, withered heart of pitch maul, stems not from martyring my fellow warriors on the battlefield, but from the innocent lives cost by my at first thoughtless, and then malicious actions. It’s the wailing voices of women, children, and civilians that haunt my soul, not the enraged grunts of the warriors I faced in battle. No mutilated corpse or severed head on the battlefield could have ever prepared me for the sight of an innocent trader being butchered by my own blade; the sight of a civilian with no thoughts of war or killing being transformed, in a matter of moments, into nothing more than a piece of meat in the shape of a man, carved and dismembered as if for some macabre collation. No enemy killed by my sword, in even the most ghastly of manners, could’ve ever prepared me to see my own, same blade, slaughter a man who was the enemy of none, in a manner more befitting a stag being prepared for a banquet, than a man of even the most ill repute. I must truly be a knave of the worst manner, for as vile as the actions that I’ve committed may be, nothing could’ve prepared me for the thrill, for the slight tinge of pleasure I felt as I hacked that man’s head from his shoulders, nor the satisfaction I felt in the purity of taking a man’s life without the pretenses of false virtues such as faith or patriotism. It is this pleasure that disquiets my spirit so. I must now return to flaunting my vestments of authority, for in only a short time I’ve risen from a lowly Aradian Knight to the Sovereignty’s Reagent of the Territory of Béowyn and Emperor of the Blackguards. I have achieved through the presumed lineage of my soul, by birthright of past incarnations, as inked on parchment, a position of great political prestige. Perhaps this is what haunts me most of all, that I’ve turned away from every principle and virtue I’ve ever held, save for the trifling virtue of bravery in battle. My soul is most assuredly damned to the darkest, coldest depths of Hell, for even as I write this, I cannot help but smile. I am, after all, a soldier. With that, Lodin set down his quill and stacked the parchments he’d written on together, shuffling them neatly and setting them off to the side. “Actually, son, the darkest, coldest part of Hell is reserved for the betrayers.” Lodin spun around in his chair. Standing in the center of the chambers was a man who looked to be the mirror image of Lodin himself, albeit somewhat transparent, yet with slightly shorter hair and a short, black, well-trimmed beard. The man was exceedingly youthful in appearance, and wore an almost luminescent, white robe. “Dad?” said Lodin. “It takes a lot more than just releasing someone from his mortal coil to earn your place there,” said Rioric. “You’d have to commit an act of true disloyalty; such as, say, betraying your fiancé who you’d pledged your eternally undying love to, in favor of some random half-Drow trollop you met in a burlesque house. After all, an act of violence against the mortal body is surely a grievous sin, but one that every creature on the face of Gaia will eventually resort to at one point or another -- for survival if for no other reason. On the other hand, an act of betrayal against the heart, soul, and mind of your one and only true love -- well, that’s a very special kind of evil indeed.” “You’re ... you’re a ghost,” Lodin stammered. Rioric shook his head. “No, son. I’m an ancestral spirit, a Lasa; like a Keeper, a Rider, or a Guardian. A ghost is a revenant; a spiritual ‘echo’ left behind in the wake of a spirit that has crossed over into the afterlife, not a disembodied soul. My ghost is probably down there right now haunting the town square, where I was killed. I suppose when I was training you as a paladin I should’ve focused a bit less on your martial skills and a bit more on your spiritual development, because you really should know the difference between a ghost and a Lasa.” //////// Then there’s the betrayal of your own countrymen by aiding in the Sovereignty’s occupation of Béowyn. And I’m sure I needn’t even mention the seriousness of a paladin betraying a priestess of Aradia, an emissary of the Gods Themselves.” ////// “I hope you’re content in the choices you’ve made for yourself, son,” said Rioric, fading away slowly, “because there isn’t any turning back now.”

Science Fiction. The Discovery of the Borean Man is the tale of the discovery of the ancient Palaeoboreanic hominids.