Part 5 of “The Ebon Shard” In the deepening chill of an autumn morning, The Burly Earl thrummed with a tense energy. Asmund, behind the bar, polished glasses with a methodical rhythm, his thoughts elsewhere. The recent revelations about the Ebon Shroud weighed heavily on him. A cloaked figure entered, drawing little attention in the…
The tavern was bustling with activity as the warrior known as Kethril entered. He made his way to the bar, ordered a pint of ale, and looked over the menu. His eyes landed on the mini meatloaf with roasted baby potatoes and roasted green beans, served with a crusty loaf of bread. Kethril’s mouth watered…
Nothing transports like smell. Deadwinter oranges, fresh sheets, blood on the wind. The best ones are the ones you can’t quite place but feel in your marrow, in the deepest recesses of your mammal brain. Ever, the type who arrived once a millennium, was more than emotionally transported by smell. She was transported bodily by…
Mega snapped the tablecloth open. Nothing.Again. A single pecan. Again. A fuzzy apricot lolled around the surface. There was a time all manner of food had appeared before her. Hearty stews with thick chunks of potato and carrot. Crusty loaves of fresh bread and chickens with the skins crisped just so. Like all magic tablecloths,…