Archive | October 4, 2013

A Week of Settings – Day Two: Blizzarded

Walk into the snow and keep walking, don’t turn around and don’t look for landmarks.

If it doesn’t kill you, this might step you into a strange world, where fauns sometimes pop up and goblins take payment in tech.

And if you keep walking…?

Well, if you keep walking, who knows where you’ll end up.

Blizzarded is a setting that started from a random freewrite, and is based primarily in one story. It counts, probably, as fantasy.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/575738.html. You can comment here or there.

One Year Ago / The Cup Part III

One year ago today…. well, I wasn’t writing, or at least not posting anything, so I went back a few more days.

Pellinore has appeared in June Again,, Boom, amd Visit From School, and was referenced in Legacy, where JohnWayne showed up.

After The Cup and The Cup, Part II, in that Order



Year 32 of the Addergoole School – at The Ranch
15 years after the beginning of the end of the world; late 2026

Cynara knew she had a reputation for always expecting everything; she liked that reputation, and her habit of preparing for everything made it an easy one to maintain.

She’d planned for Pellinore showing up; she had plans for “former Kept at the door” and plans for “parent of my current Kept showing up” and juxtaposing them hadn’t been hard.

The Grail. That she didn’t have a plan for. General Contingency Plan Three would have to do.

“All right.” She cleared a place on the kitchen table. “Come on, Pellinore. Give me what you’ve got, and we’ll go from there. JohnWayne, go get the maps.”

“…all of them?”

“Ha, no. Get me a blank map of the region, likewise one of the country, one of the continent, and one of the world.” She still thought of it as the country. She wondered if she’d ever stop. “You know where they are, right?”

“Top drawer of the map case.” The boy darted off, leaving Cya and Pellinore to share a glance.

“Was I ever that young?” He pitched his voice quiet; sometimes in the last couple decades he’d learned tact.

“We all were. Notes?”

“Coming.” He dumped his Backpack on a kitchen chair and pulled out a ziplock-bag-encased spiral notebook. “There’s a lot of contradictory rumors and whispers, and lot of ‘if you ask the elder Grigori so-and-so,’ but a lot of the old ones…”

“Yeah. Either died or went into hiding during the war. It’s a place to start, at least.” She held out her hand for the notebook.

It had been a generation since she Kept him. They both paused, just for a heartbeat, and then he obeyed the unspoken command.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/575363.html. You can comment here or there.