There is a rule in Driftwood Inn, spoken quietly and never questioned. "Do not remove the mask." Once a year, on the cusp of autumn and on the eve of the first frost, an unusual patron arrives before the tavern doors have even been creaked open. No one sees them enter when they come. No one ever quite remembers the spot in which they sat the year before.

The Weeping Hollow has long been empty- just fog, half buried stones, and the lingering echo of dreams never come to fruition. It lays on a winding path heading northwest from the Outlook just before the Sirencester Sea air salts the senses. No one went there unless they were trying to forget something- or rid their thoughts of someone.

The orchard wasn't found on any map. It never had been. It appeared once a month, on the final night of the waning moon before giving into blackness, when the air grew thick and the stars seemed crammed against one another in the vast sky.

Marie the innkeeper found it tucked between the hot coals just after morning's first light, nestled within the embers like it had always been there. She furrowed brow as little Amelie clutched curiously to her cotton gown.

Scraping the backpack that was weighing him down against the face of his assailant, Gabrin successfully bought himself a handful of precious seconds to...

This June in Lithoterria, we are finishing strong!

The Kilmei is a simple and overall harmless equine animal. These hooved four-legged creatures move at incredible speeds, moving in small herds.

These beautiful creatures display an overwhelming prowess at circumnavigating unforgiving mountain ranges and the densest portions of the forests.

For this chapter, we shall be observing the Bosthog, one of the world’s most naturally gifted creatures, and most cherished live-stock by many.

The people of Little Ivywood claim to still hear whistling from the trees, and firmly ensure they’re children do not go out at night ...