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Eodea

This is my main medievalish fantasy kitchen sink setting.
tagged Eodea

Counting Heads

Genre: Fantasy, Slice of Life
Notes: Based on the prompt "orc accountant" by Royce Day
Words: 286

Fiction tags: Eodea Flash Fiction
tagged Sylvie Eodea

Empathy

Setting: Yrn, Eodea
Genre: Fantasy
Summary: Sylvie is a mage-in-training with a knack to work living things, so teaching her how to heal seems obvious.
Warnings: (highlight to read) sickness
Note: "Empathic" was a prompt by Ellen.
Words: 100

Dance

Setting: Yrn, Eodea
Genre: Fantasy
Summary: Gumei explores her talent for magic.
Warnings: none
Note: "dancing" was a prompt from Deirdre
Words: 100

tagged Eodea

Restless Hands

Setting: Possibly Raaji, Eodea
Genre: Vignette
Summary: Nico has trouble with temporarily limited mobility due to injury. There's help
Notes/warnings: none
Words: 169

tagged Magic Eodea Yrn

Undertown

Dehrai crossed through the mountain, leaving light in his wake.

At the lowest point of his circuit, under sea level, Dehrai’s fingers lingered over runes keeping the tunnels unflooded. Those did not need weekly renewal, and no-one would teach him their workings.

On his climb back he fed more light-spells in the communal workshops and dwellings too deep under the city even for lightwells, letting thanks warm him.

As a mote grew to a glow too bright to look into, he smiled. Air and light had called him, not stone and metal. He would follow that call again

"under-" was another prompt by Aldersprig. :)

tagged Sylvie

Homeward

Time she couldn’t calculate and countries no-one under this sky had ever mapped behind her, Sylvie now only saw sea voyage between herself and home. It felt odd to again be negotiating with someone who spoke Seafarer tongue natively.

“Ship-mages usually have a better handle of wind than ‘hardly at all’.”

“I’m very good with wood, in case your ship has patched leaks you’d like properly fixed. And I can keep water clean, or pull the salt from seawater.”

The captain gave her a long look. “If we get no better offer by tomorrow, you’ve got your passage.”

I'm attempting the April A to Z challenge, with fiction with at most 100 words. "H is for Homeward" came from Lyn Thorne-Alder.

If you have prompts for later in the alphabet, please give them to me.

tagged Eodea Raaji

Effort

Everybody needed salt, and the further away from the salt pans by the sea you got, the more precious it was. So Karva put together a caravan. One year’s time, and carts, animals, people, cargo. But it would pay off.

It was a long way to the mountain-locked nation of Raaji, and the people had to help push the carts up the pass roads, but it would be worth it.

But no-one wanted to trade anything like Karva had expected. Finally she snapped and asked.

“You want far more than the Goblins.”

“Goblins?”

“They bring salt from underground.”

I'm attempting the April A to Z challenge, with fiction with at most 100 words. "E is for Effort" came from Rix Scaedu.
If you have prompts for later in the alphabet, please give them to me.

tagged Daaren

Chained

Pain all over. Want dark-den.

Humans. Want to bite them. Fear. Bite, they hurt.

Chains drag on collar, outside, can’t run.

More humans. Too many. Loud. Smell bad fear, anger.

One comes near. Challenges chain-humans. Snarls, no bites.

Human pack angry at chain-humans. They fear now. Turn tails.

Challenger makes calm noises. Quiet. Touch gentle. Makes chains fall. Pulls me away, to place without other humans.

Want to run, but weak. Afraid.

Challenger takes collar.

Less pain.

Quiet. Safety.

I change. No fur, but hands. This is me, too.

My voice is hoarse with disuse. “Thank you.”

So, I'm attempting the April A to Z challenge, with fiction with at most 100 words. "C is for Chained" came from Royce Day. If you have prompts for later in the alphabet, please give them to me.

tagged Sylvie

Of the Wood

Yameh snuck through the thicket where the Spirit Wood grew against the walls of the city. Deep in the green she would be safer, because very few people went in there. They were scared. She liked the place. But she had to return home.

When she found the stone and dead wood of an alley, she peered from the shadows to see if the kids who had thrown things at her were waiting, or any other danger. Few people, not watching the wood.

But when she slipped out of hiding, someone said, “Don’t I know you?”

Yameh jumped, and saw the copper-haired storyteller in a doorway nearby. He smiled, and his voice was nice, and he was the only other human with red hair she’d seen, so she hesitated.

“I’m Rann. What’s your name?”

Without as much as shaking her head first, she ran to the mouth of the alley.

Nothing followed her but laughter and the words, “I’ll just call you Sylvie, then.”

Inspired by the prompt "Write a story using an adult and a child as the only characters." by KissOfJudas of Our Pens, Your Pennies

tagged Fantasy

Shifting Focus

Kondarans! Arrogant, lazy... Mirab was an example of the type, being put out at the thought of having to learn a new language - it had never crossed her mind anyone would not speak her own. Teaching it had fallen on Daaren, and he was not about to complain about it, given that he had been another one of the strays the local keep was in a habit of taking in. The girl’s attitude grated on his nerves, anyway.

Mirab’s companion, Firo, seemed an exception from the rule, modest and diligent, and trying to mediate between the girl wrapped up in herself and the real world. It was he who suggested they could translate a story, for them to offer as entertainment and as thanks for the hospitality. The idea even roused Mirab’s interest.

“Oh, yes! A tale about Sir Garob!”

The name seemed vaguely familiar to Daaren. “What is he known for?”

“He was a knight who travelled to barbarian places to teach people to defend themselves. To teach them courage and honour. Only he and his page. How brave he was.”

“Ah. I heard stories that came from Harred.”

“That sounds like the place where he fought a bloodthirsty griffin.” Mirab was blind with hero-worship for someone she never had met. Firo was more perceptive, judging from the nervous looks he gave me.

Daaren nodded. “In Harred I heard tell of him. A Kondaran noble too stupid to care for his own horse or gear, so he had to have a boy following him and do the work.”

“Stupid?!”

“Or maybe lazy. Certainly, though, arrogant and stupid with that. He was set to killing a griffin that at the time hunted near the town. People tried to tell him it was a bad idea; there was a cyrnag with the griffin; they left the herds alone and occasionally traded with the people in Harred.”

The girl yelled something in Kondaran too slurred and rapid for Daaren to catch more than something about lies. He talked right over Firo trying to calm her down.

“I’m not making this up. I am telling the story as it was told to me. Do you want to hear the rest, or not?”

“Not.” She pouted, sulking like a girl half her age.

Firo tried to smooth things over. “Maybe we should try with the story of Saya and the good fairy. It is less long also.”

Mirab gave him a sour look. “You do it, I don’t care.”

“I’ve never heard of a good fairy.” The very idea raised Daaren’s hackles. But he did appreciate the boy’s efforts. “So tell me of those fairies you have down south.”

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