Stories from the World of Hârn – to entertain, inspire, and educate.
Journey to Ábrelyn (a tale of Emélrenè) - Part IV - High Ábrelyn
Kélroth ran and ran. He ran till his lungs burned, his legs ached and he felt his heart would near give out.
He ran from the cries, the deep-dark-falling-pit of horror that lay behind him. On and on, up and up, along the narrow winding trail, around stands of rocks, down vale and up over ridges.
Until. Until he could run no more.
He came to rest beneath an outcrop. Silence.
...
Journey to Ábrelyn (a tale of Emélrenè) - Part III - the Maw of Ages
Kélroth woke with a start. It was cool, clear morning, and the first rays of sunlight were breaking over the upper Gadén valley. He had slept poorly, his sleep disturbed by visions of endless, aching darkness, deep within the bones of the earth.
He rubbed his eyes and shook himself awake. As he sat up, he noticed a figure nearby was watching him intently. She was dressed in dark green, from head to foot...
Journey to Ábrelyn (a tale of Emélrenè) - Part II - the Elder Dark
The group of fosterlings made camp on a ridge overlooking a stream that ran down to join the upper reaches of the Gadén river. The sun set early, even though it was summer, passing down behind mount Negéros, now far to the west. Mists rose from the valley below, and a gloom gathered round the group.
Their elderly émhlèn guide, Erýnos, as he had done before, warned the group to keep close together, and not...
Journey to Ábrelyn (a tale of Emélrenè) - Part I - the Call of Home
Kélroth and his companions had travelled several days on their journey up the Legáma river valley from Ráleth, making their way along the trail through the foothills of the Jerinálian mountains. They had been provided hospitality at Hiténos keep, the seat of the Earl of Negáros.
The group's guide, an aged émhlè, had been warmly welcomed by the Earl's constable, and they had been provided with...
Gazing into the distance, she listens nearer, feels farther for the scent of the beast. Rubs the ground softly with tender feet, holds a stone between her toes and sways gently in the chattering wind.
Surely what comes must spore, in the water, on brittle, virginal snow, in the perfidious wind however bemused its stammered allusions. Surely there must be sharp vapours riding subtle astride clean...
The rhythms of field and village, of folk and spirit, of earth and nurture may be harder to sense. Perhaps folk who build cots and huts, plant tofts and orchards, keep clever pigs and honest dogs, make brooms and weave tablecloths put a blanket betwixt their selves and the rhythmic world.
Earth and wind, spirit, black iron, purifying fire… somehow they all break rhythm as they serve...
One could see from the gold of her eyes that the spirit of Jârlak moved there. Like the fingers of the soul, like petals in the wind, it moved. It set her paws upon the snowfall, upon paths, it stood her whiskers in the air, ran attentive bristles down her spine and tuned her, tuned her to the sighing, to the small sounds, to the unrelenting songs.
It let her see the difference...
Things come and go, things change. Nothing changes more than anything else, but we cling to our illusions and we get by.
I’ve been wanting to spread about some more universal (Keléstial) lore, if only to prove, once and for all, that no, it’s not just about rolling dice and fetching pizza. It’s at least as much about the stories and I need to get some of them out there (and maybe...
One day, the woman came unto her husband, who was working in the fields saying,
"My lord, there is a demon dwelling within our house." The husband ran into the house, and gazed about, but he saw no demon.
After a time he said to his wife,
"Good lady, I have examined our house, and I must admit that I have not found that of which you spoke, although I looked in every corner, under each bed, in...
The mist over the Vémion Fens was cold and, and the night was drawing in. Young Llúwyn pulled his cloak tighter and hurried onward along the boggy path. He had only a few more minutes before the light failed altogether, and he wished to reach the Fenlander settlement before he was reduced to stumbling in the dark. He had already traveled several miles from Bévon manor, and he still had the return journey to manage.
...