More Fawnlings schtuffs, for a bit.
Public Windborne event | Winter 759 | Part 5Eye of the StormPublic Windborne event | Winter 759 | Part 5 by mule-deer
Featuring Fox, Morfinwë (NPC), and others!
Early Winter, Year 759 of the New Age
It was going well. Too well. The fires still blazed behind them, but the rain had slackened their ferocity. Still, it’d won them enough time to escape from their pursuers. Fox nipped the rump of a slow fawn to coax a little more speed from it. He saw the soldiers around him doing the same, though with far more compassion. He couldn’t blame Éilias for being gentle with their cargo; his boy wasn’t too many years older than the fawns that ran before them. And Aerandir was using his words far more than his teeth to encourage the fawns - Fox couldn’t fault him, but all the same, he nipped at the slow fawn in front of him again.
Fox dared to allow hope to swell in his breast, and then the voice came. With the power of the wild storms of Windborne, the deep voi
Day to DayDay to DayDay to Day by mule-deer
Late Autumn, Year 759 of the New Age
Blackwood, the Blackwood.
Most days were fine.
He'd find himself waking alone in the predawn hours and having some time to himself to prepare for the day. He did what he could to stay in the good graces of the herd, and offered himself freely to whoever needed him. Some days he took a guard rotation, others he helped herbalists scrounge up seedlings, and particularly gruesome days involved procuring reagents for practitioners of black magic. But he did what he could to make himself useful.
He'd come to Blackwood because he had nowhere else to go. The danger and intrigue of his former gypsy lifestyle had lost its allure nearly two years ago, and the prospect of taking it up again left a bad taste in Corvus' mouth. So he'd come crawling back to the only semblance of family he had, and did his best to stay beneath the notice of anybody important. He was ju
Darkest Depths: Part Three - ResurrectionFeaturing Crowe, mentioning Berach and GraínneDarkest Depths: Part Three - Resurrection by meganeffingsandbox
Early Autumn, Year 759 of the New Age
The Redwater, Blackwood
The words were familiar. The voice was familiar too. The strength behind it, the authority was enough to make her want to stir, but she was so tired… Her lungs ached, and all of the rest of her was numb with cold. There was no air here.
Open your eyes, child. Your time is not done.
If she’d had any breath, she would have sighed in exasperation. Why? She was done. She was dead. Why couldn’t she just be dead? She’d killed that demon and now she could die. She’d avenged her mentor, killed that stupid Oathbreaker and now it was her time to die.
She is not dead.
Crowe’s eyes creaked open, and light stabbed through them and right i