The Veteran and the Pilgrim (part 8) As Alpha and Bravo flew through the catacombs, the temperature outside plummeted. Mala covered Felsted’s face and head with a Nirosk veil he carried with him for his own purposes. The veil, span from Caldomede spiders’ silk, allowed the wearer, assuming their mind was adequately prepared and receptive, to see and even feel, the colour of a soul. A very helpful advantage when living the life of a blind pilgrim. From the outside, the veil made it impossible to see the face of its wearer. The Nirosk, were held in such high regard for their power of prayer and meditation, that the Association of Eastern Caldomede Merchants had for centuries, awarded their patronage exclusively to the sect. Consequently, Nirosk pilgrims were revered throughout the Elvish kingdoms and left alone when they visited the sacred Citadel of Monikadia. The punishment for harming them, or forcibly removing their veil, was hanging. The only thing worse than removing their veil w
The Magical Stone of Elthenia Parts 1 to 7 Foundations If anyone deserved a peaceful retirement it was the greatest warrior Elthenia had ever known, and probably would ever know: The exiled, General Felsted. Not everyone gets to celebrate their 800th birthday by building their own cabin, thought Felsted, knee deep in the snow and mud of the foundation he was digging. He stood up, leant against his spade, and fumbled around his Yak wool jacket for his pipe. His white beard matched the fresh puffy snow high on the mountain tops, and the empty blue sky mirrored his eyes, both in colour and in their transitory state of reflection. Not finding his pipe, his eyes drifted upward and rested on the natural moon of Elthenia, currently nestled between the lower mountains of Wexmede and Norkam, the sight brought a smile to the old elf’s face. But then, like some overwhelming shadow of inevitability, his eyes rested on the ghost moon, or the galleon moon, as the older elves call