The eyes of the King see you, the ears of the King hear you, the words of the King, bless you.
Category: high fantasy
This Textured Darkness, #32
He’d felt well enough to plough his wife’s belly with a son.
This Textured Darkness, #30
Until three days ago,” Milo pointed to the skull, “This was a man we called the Poet.”
This Textured Darkness, #29
Milo Janken, or Milo the Lantern as he was called in Marsh Wool, stood before the throne, trying not to soil his breeches.
This Textured Darkness, #28
He’d caught the eye of a buxom barmaid who asked for coin.
This Textured Darkness, #27
Below him sprawled Casoria, the stuff of which legends were made.
This Textured Darkness, #26
He was being branded; the air smelled as it did when they marked the wild horses in the spring.
This Textured Darkness,#25
“My source tells me the bark is odd. Flesh colored with specks of red. The shoots spring up, only to die.”
This Textured Darkness, #16
He caught Laveth stealing wood from the royal forest, but rather than hanging her, Ranald took her to bed.
This Textured Darkness, #10
A plague entered Casoria, and there weren’t enough men to sweep the dead from the streets.
