Land of Salvania

  How the times have changed, the monk thought as the Northman came roaring into the monastery's storage room. Indeed. See ya, 2022. Let's hope 2023 is better. ~Mick /// Copyright

  He really didn't want to slay the dragon. It was just an animal doing what animals do to survive. When the villagers complained about it killing a few cows every now and then, the duke waved them off. When it wrecked a couple of chicken coops, the castle had no response. But when it emptied its bowels while flying over the duke's archery match - that was too much. The duke's guard was turned out with orders to find and slay the evil beast. And you already know the rest of the story. /// Copyright

  Orc woods these are, I think I know. I will proceed now, going slow. They may not see me creeping here If my sword begins to glow. My magic sword is always near Since orcs were spotted late this year Between the castle and the lake With darkest portents from our seer. Assured my senses are all awake Here, I can't make one mistake. The only sound's the crunch and sweep Of frigid wind and icy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And orcs to slay before I sleep, And orcs to slay before I sleep. Inspired by " Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening " by Robert Frost, 1922-1923 /// Copyright

  The halfling cried out, "I am Wizard Zhame of the Stone Forest. Big people are not allowed in my lands!" He came at me with no warning, brandishing his glowing wand, intent on mayhem. I drew my wand just in time to defend against his savage onslaught. I remember little of the grueling encounter, just that I awoke hours later, sitting in my carriage miles away, exhausted. /// Copyright

  King Largen of the frozen north Took his sword and went he forth To seek the dragon Dalenboke That sorely plagued his peaceful folk. Five days had passed upon his way And then he met a princess fey Who asked him why he bore his sword Across her stream and tranquil fjord. He told his tale of dragon hate And bid her help him seek his fate. So boon he asked, and boon he got She led him to a sacred spot. "Rest you now, here by this stream When you awake perhaps you'll seem To find a new way to your goal Just listen to your dreaming soul." The fey, they think in slipp'ry ways. Unlike men: too straight their gaze. Largen slept just like a child And in the dreamland he was exiled. When last he woke at break of day The world had turned, gone was the fey. His sword had rusted red as blood The stream had risen like a flood. The season changed, whole years had passed; New trees had grown in tall green grass. Fear and wonder filled his mind He rose and left this place behind. N...

  This is art.  In LARP, we use safe, foam swords and daggers. In the Alliance LARP system, I am fond of a fighting style called "Florentine." Florentine is the art of wielding two weapons at once, one in each hand. Florentine is named after the city - Florence, Italy - where it was developed. Typically, the dominant hand holds a sword or a dagger, and the non-dominant hand holds a dagger. Since most people have left hand as non-dominant, the French called this dagger a main gauche, which literally means "left hand". This technique is difficult to master, but lotsa fun! More here: https://rules.alliancelarp.com/Florentine /// Copyright

  Khevol knew the enemy was ahead somewhere in the dark forest.  His skin tingled with the thought that they were watching him even now. Any breath could be his last.   He froze.  Did he hear something? "Have courage, my little dwarven boy," he thought to himself, remembering his father's words as they had tracked a wounded troll forty years before. "Everything in life balances on the word 'maybe.'  Every step you take may be a risk, a mistake, or a great reward.  But you gotta take the step to find out." Maybe he would have a child one day.  Maybe he would tell them about this dark forest.  Maybe, if he lived.   Khevol took the next step. /// Inspired from "The Collected Works Of William James", William James (1842–1910) “So far as man stands for anything, and is productive or originative at all, his entire vital function may be said to have to deal with maybes. Not a victory is gained, not a deed of faithfulness or courage is done...