Land of Salvania

  Mothers clutched their children and hustled away when Morden walked down the street. Soldiers hands unconsciously drifted toward their weapons when Morden appeared in town. The wise watched carefully when Morden stood still, eyes closed. Some days, Morden was amused at this ridiculous behavior, some days he was annoyed. Even getting a beer at the pub was a huge disruption, crowds falling silent, eyes wary. Forget about attending any town festivals or market days. Accidentally summon a red dragon just one time, and you pay for it forever. /// Copyright

  He had taken to roaming at night when the annoying clamor of the population's minds at last fell silent. It would be different if their minds were more interesting. But, alas, no. They only cared for the moment, the perceived slights to their pride, the small revenges, the petty fears. Even their nighttime dreams, now a breeze where their waking minds were a gale, were small and boring. Some wanted love, some fought faceless monsters. All typical and dull. Bovine. "Let them be sheep," Vecnan purred in his mind. He looked at the jewel glowing faintly on the end of his staff. The star stone. Vecnan was the only one who understood him. Indeed, their bond was closer than any parent or lover. The jewel seemed to pulse as the words came. "We will rule them all one day, and they will never even notice." /// Copyright

  Farsinger was unusually insistent. "I saw it glowing. It's magicked, I tell ya." She hopped on Ulrich's shoulder and pecked him gently on the neck. "Pick it up. It may be lucky." "Or it may turn me into a worm," Ulrich growled, his pagan sensibilities and his Oma's old stories had him on alert. "Then I'll have a nice breakfast," Farsinger cawed, laughing. "Or it may bring some luck. Pick it up." "It's just a stick," Ulrich said with a dismissive wave. "I think you're scared," Farsinger said with a raven growl of derision. And that sealed it. Ulrich picked up the stick. Except it wasn't a stick. /// Copyright

  "Ahhhh!" Farsinger squawked and leapt off Ulrich's shoulder. "Fek, fek, fek," she cursed in Raven Speech as she winged through the trees in terror. It was equivalent to Ulrich's most violent swear word, "Fook." "Gods be damned, stupid bird," Ulrich cried, trying to drop the glowing magic "stick" that Farsinger had said "might bring good luck." But his hand was locked on the vibrating wand, and no amount of shaking would release it. Then a hideous, distorted face appeared in the sickly cloud swirling around the tip and said, "Hullo, there. Got any raw meat you don't need?" /// Copyright