"I found my first rock dragon on a sunny day in May just like today," Flint said as a little red dragon, no bigger than a squirrel, scrambled over his hand, arm, and shoulder before hiding in his hair. Other rock dragons were sunning themselves on the warm rock wall or peeking out of crevices. "They say half the Yunni keep them as pets and the other half keep them for breakfast." With a twinkle in his eye, he looked at a Yunni, one of the small forest folk, standing among the children making up Flint's "forest classroom." The children all looked at the Yunni who, even though full grown, was barely as tall as child. "Mister Flint," the Yunni said with great solemnity. "I would never have one of these delightful creatures for breakfast. I might invite one to enjoy my breakfast, though." She tossed a morsel of bread onto a flat rock. Flint's little red peeked out of his curtain of hair, but a bigger blue dragon flashed out
Welcome I am trying something different (for me). All of my Salvania content is transitioning from a subscription model to a completely-free-holy-cow-how's-this-gonna-work model. So, there is no risk for you, my devoted cult member follower. Just sit back and consume, consume, consume. About Salvania Salvania is a medieval fantasy land populated by a colorful array of people, articulate animals, and strange beasts obscured and ominous in the forest mists. Walking through a typical marketplace, you might see... ...a druid and her apprentice discussing a way to improve the pixie community by planting more troll bane throughout the forest. ...a mixed group of folk gathered around two Dwarven immigrants having a friendly wager over who can tie a metal bar into the best pretzel knot. ...a wizard with elaborate eye makeup offering, "For a copper, I'll read your runes. For a silver, I'll make you a love potion. For a gold, I'll make your enemies...fewer." ...a
With great care, Sir Bucket unrolled the fragile, stained vellum. It had a burned edge, obscuring some of the unicorn and tree artwork along the margins. The flowing script read: Go thee now unto the grove Fear not the wolf nor bear Go thee now unto the grove And hear the knowledge there. Seek the tree within the grove So small and green and free Seek the tree within the grove What does it say to thee? Close thy eyes within the grove Listen with thy heart Close thy eyes within the grove And on thy journey start. Let thy soul drift far away Ride high upon the wind Let thy soul drift far away Drink deep at journey's end. At the bottom, she could barely read a last bit, written in a different hand. I, Wizard Owenstanish of White River, do now write with my own hand on this third day of summer, the 16th year of Queen Juliska of Salvania. This incantanto being the first of five found within a clay pot buried in the southern desert. She rolled the scroll again and closed her eyes, pond
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