Author: Hob Goodfellowe

They all ducked, then hunkered down on the lip of the hill. They were well-hidden by rocks and ferns. Anyone who might look up at them from the pool below, or the cliffs rimming it, would see only the endless green-blue-grey of the forest. A figure cloaked in grey and silver came into view, trudging…

She listened. “Yes. Yes. I can hear that too, but just faintly.” She looked around, confused. “There is a whispering. A chant that sits beneath everything else. It’s very difficult to pick out from the rest of the pain and the rage. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all, if you hadn’t pointed it out….

The boy did a little of his own kicking at ferns. His whole face was a serious mask as he walked, staring down at the ground. The giant Eold didn’t seem to be a bad creature, at least from the brief exchange of words. But he had done some evil things. Or, at least Fleat…

“What about him?” asked the boy, indicating a nod towards the dead Eold. “Shouldn’t we–?” but his words tailed off. There was clearly no time to dig a grave, or pile up a cairn. The giant’s warnings had sounded both immediate and urgent. “Let the wild creatures eat him, if his flesh be edible,” said…

Soon the shape of a collapsed humanlike thing of huge size came into view. He was half-lying on the ground and half-propped against a tree. The giant did seem to be human in general proportions, but more heavily limbed than any humanfolk, and much taller. Sprawled as he was, it was hard to tell, but…

The stream delved deep and rocky as it plunged through the woodlands. It was soon cascading over cataracts and rushing little waterfalls. Above the banks, tangled grey-barked oaks and black pines draped their thick curtains of leaves over the soil, whilst mosses and ferns grew in abundance atop the round river boulders. In a few…

By the time they reached the edge of the woods, a grey dawn was in the air and the sun was a red promise on the eastern sky. Skirting along the southern scrubs and stands of trees, they spied a thin thread of water in the distance, marked out like a band of beaten silver…

They left Baght Town by the eastern small-gate, paying the gatesmen enough to let them pass quickly, and then promptly forget about them aftwards. Soon, the town was reduced to a mere a rumour of lights and far-off dwindling noises. Dog barks. Drunkards in the darkness. Occasional strands of music and piping. The sort of…