Category: Fiction

Farlan Burkenshaw

by Diane, posted in Castle Keepers Vignettes, Fiction

Sergeant Farlan Burkenshaw

Human, sergeant with the Aruam Castle guard, first appeared in chapter 04 in Shadows in the Stone

The last rays of sun shined into Sergeant Farlan Burkenshaw’s blue eyes. He stared intensely south west, past the front gates of Maskil and to the road meandering into the thick forest towards Ellswire.

Earlier in the day, his best friend Bronwyn Darrow had departed in that direction. Bronwyn had travelled The Trail for almost seven moons before returning home to visit family and friends. Although they wanted him to stay longer, he set off again after only five days.

His return to Aruam Castle was met with mixed emotions. Guards familiar with the former sergeant welcomed him and eagerly shared stories about recent events. Strangers to the dwarf however were weary of his presence. They spoke only when necessary and left the room at the first opportunity.

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Maisie Darrow

by Diane, posted in Castle Keepers Vignettes, Fiction

Maisie Darrow

Dwarf, owner of Forest Bakery and Herb Shop, first appeared in 01 in Shadows in the Stone 

Through hidden vales little dwarf feet go,

Trailing their Kintale spirit safety home.

From ancient times it carried them afar,

To Rhunestone Castle on The Headlands of Mar.

Stay true to the magic inside, your kin and the past,

And let swift wings carry you home at last.

Maisie Darrow hummed the ancient song, taught to her by her mum, as she poured the mixture of dry ingredients into the large bowl. The wooden spoon scraped the inside, drawing together the contents. She had baked these muffins thousands of times over the years. They had always enticed a smile. Since her son left Maskil, the recipe now generated only apprehension.

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Catriona Wheatcroft

by Diane, posted in Castle Keepers Vignettes, Fiction

Catriona Wheatcroft

Human, sorceress, first appeared in chapter 01 in Shadows in the Stone

Taking a deep breath, Catriona Wheatcroft grasped the clay vessel and poured the mixture of water and dandelion oil into the shallow bowl. Her trembling hand picked up the wooden spoon and stirred gingerly. If she moved too quickly, the potion would fail and erupt into a puff of fowl smelling gas. If she moved too slowly, it would congeal, freezing the spoon within its grip.

Glancing at the tattered book laid out before her on the table, she took note of the next ingredient. She picked up a small dish and added the powdered contents into the bowl. Again, she constrained her hand to move at the precise speed, but her arm muscles fought against her.

The cuts and bruises inflicted at the public inquest had healed, but the scars and emotional torture she suffered remained. Though she strained to suppress the memories of that horrific ordeal, they resurfaced daily, reminding her of the fragile state of her mind and of those in the throne room.

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Lord Peadar Tasgall

by Diane, posted in Castle Keepers Vignettes, Fiction

Lord Peadar Tasgall of Aruam Castle

Hauflin, first appeared in chapter 05 in Shadows in the Stone

The soft glow of the single candle danced on the page. It guided Lord Peadar Tasgall’s pencil as it scrolled carefully the letters to form words learnt in his hauflin youth. Here, beneath the cloak of darkness and night, the lord disconnected from his duties, the castle and the people of Maskil he served. He permitted his mind to roam to a far-off place where fresh smells of the forest and soil rejuvenated his being.

Long-forgotten scents permeated his pours until they diluted the adverse odours of the castle and the invisible force percolating through the walls and into his bed chamber.

The pencil quickened. The force grows fervent and the minds feebler. The darkness has compromised those from which we seek refuge. The child has been taken.

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Writing Exercise

by Diane, posted in Fiction

South of North Border

The flood waters receded, and the villagers returned to what remained of their homes. Debris littered the once pristine lanes winding through the cluster of small cottages. Some of the structures had their doors ripped off and others had their roofs caved in. What the water and wind didn’t drag away, it dropped in piles, making walking and looking for the dead tedious work.

Colin surveyed the damage from atop one of the only surviving horses owned by the village. Although only a boy, he understood what the devastation meant: he and his family would leave Soughwen.

“It is worse than I imagined,” said Faye. She bowed her head and silently wept.

Wil placed a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine. The worst is over.”

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Writing Exercise

by Diane, posted in Fiction

A recent writing exercise by Diane Lynn McGyver.

Franklin snatched the leather pouch from the table and slipped it behind his back. He checked to see if his wife noticed; she didn’t. Once outside the house, he looked up and down the street for anyone lurking about but didn’t see anyone in the glow of the streetlights. As he started down the sidewalk in the direction of town, he continued to search the area for anyone suspicious. The mysterious phone call earlier in the day had his nerves on high alert. If he didn’t get those papers to his contact, he wouldn’t be the only one in danger. He fingered the pouch in his pocket. There was enough money in it to get him out of the country if necessary.

A figure came out of the shadows between two buildings, making Franklin jump. To his relief, it was Carl. The young man walked to the nearby vehicle.

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100-word Challenge: Wisdom of Patience

by Diane, posted in Fiction

100word challengeProfessor Capstick walked steadily towards the staffroom. The opportunity to add three additional courses to the program excited him. He knew the other professors at Stoicism Institute for Higher Wisdom would also be thrilled and anxious to discuss the best three of the dozen possibilities.

He turned the knob and swung open the door. What he found inside stopped him cold. Instead of celebrating the added educational possibilities, all seven were just arguing amongst themselves while Professor Hornsbee lay bleeding beside his desk.

“Have you lost your minds?” shouted Professor Capstick.

“Not at all,” said Professor Jamieson. “Only our patience.”

Free-writing: to accept the 100-word challenge, visit Julia’s Place website.

Today’s Prompt…all seven were just arguing amongst themselves…

100-word Challenge: Dawn

by Diane, posted in Fiction

100word challengeHis iPhone announces the time. It will be dawn in two hours, leaving him time to change his clothes and arrive for his seven o’clock shift. No one will suspect a thing. After all, he is a law-abiding citizen.

He grips the shovel and follows his ex-wife. She had suggested—insisted—he participated in her get-rich scheme. He obliged, knowing it would put an end to the alimony payments.

“Breathe a word about this,” says Wanda, “and I’ll testify you threatened me, forced me to help you.”

Tim smiles. And so it begins except this time, he has a plan.

Free-writing: to accept the 100-word challenge, visit Julia’s Place website.

Today’s Prompt…and so it begins…

100-word Challenge: Sacrifice

by Diane, posted in Fiction

100word challengeThe weary soldiers marched into the night with quickly-fashioned torches to illuminate their way. The thick forest shrouded them in darkness, stealing rays of moonlight from their path. Their trip was a solemn one, fraught with fear and danger, but they trudged onward.

The victory of the previous day’s battle still fresh in their mind did little to comfort the men as they carried their leader home. He who had slain the evil wizard as darkness fell, saving his kingdom and people from slavery. Yet, he had sacrificed his own safety, and when the daylight returned, the king was dead.

Free-writing: to accept the 100-word challenge, visit Julia’s Place website.

Prompt: …when the daylight returned the king was dead…: https://jfb57.wordpress.com/2015/03/23/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week172/

Wrong Vice

by Diane, posted in Fiction

100word challengeGage swung opened the door and peered inside. The musty smell struck him, then the dust dancing in the sunlight pouring in the window. The frolicking particles indicated his victim had run this way.

Stepping deeper into the shed, he noticed an open back door. “Damn,” he cursed. Lumbering forward, his plaid jacket caught on a vice secured to a thick wooden workbench. He yanked it free.

From behind, he felt a heavy thud. His vision blurred as he dropped to the floor, landing in a soft mound of rodent droppings. The scent was overpowering, and he sank into unconsciousness.

Free-writing to accept the 100-word challenge from Julia’s Place website