It would be recorded that during these clashes between tribes, warriors were free to “Unleash the Beast,” leading to quick and often blood..

The page was filed in haste, with the ink of the penmanship uneven. “Three days past, I led the caravan along the southern bend toward...

"To whomever reads this, They weren’t empty words. I saw it myself. The mists do not cling as they once did in the Blackwood Grove. From...

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

A woman with soot streaked hands handed me a bowl of root stew. She didn’t ask where I came from. Just nodded at the tattered lantern...

“I have the biggest story you’ve ever heard!” At least I can understand her a little better compared to her penmanship.

The night had unfolded like a grand tapestry, each act of the Obsidian Circus weaving its own unique thread into the fabric of the...

Day 1 I’ve been here awhile, but it’s the first day I actually had some paper and a quill. Ashhold is a hell hole. The food here is...