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Showing posts from November, 2013

#Nanowrimo Day 29: Spangles

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#NaNoWriMo Day 23: Bit o' Craic Part 2

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Drinking is a serious profession in Frewyn. Men work hard when the sun is up, but once evening settles in and the skies begin to exhibit their altering hues, slanes are lain aside, shovels are put down, kilns are extinguished, and every man with a parched throat wanders to the local tavern, to have their ears amused, their opinions heard, and their thirst satiated. Visiting the tavern for a bit of craic is a time-honoured tradition in Frewyn, so much so that those who don't indulge in this pastime are considered blasphemous.


#NaNoWriMo Day 18: A Bit o' Craic

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Craic: the catch-all phrase meaning amusement, merry mischief, lively atmosphere, delicious news, old jokes, brabbling and raillery; can be used without a definite article or with one, as a noun, an adjective, and even a verb. The Hallanys dance and music competition attracts all folks from around the kingdom who are looking for it, and all the dancers and musicians about for the event most happily supply it.  

Happiness soon came, however; Alasdair changed the reel out for a slip jig, a different dance was begun, and the men were soon exchanging hands with the young women, those who were only too eager to smile and leap and say nothing. The men admired the dancers’ prowess, said a few insobrietous words to them, and when some had danced about in a few circles, they pushed others in their place and stood by, content again to be a spectator with drinks in their hands, lamenting that they “couldn’t fill a thimble with that” when seeing the size of their drinks at half full, urging any mu…

#NaNoWriMo Day 13: Return of the Rat Part 2

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Alasdair and Carrigh absolutely dote on one another, but because of their respective positions, they seldom get time alone and therefore scramble into any chance they get at having a private moment to themselves. Even the intimacy and solitude that being behind a locked door provides cannot keep them from being disturbed, however: 
A small room with a locked door and his stunning wife standing beside him, with the prospect of watching her and even helping her to undress before him, was the most agreeable circumstance in the world, and after some doting looks, Carrigh began to untie her bodice. Alasdair moved behind her and offered his help in loosening the interlaced ribbons, when the handle of the tailor door suddenly began to wriggle.                 “Who is there?” Alasdair called out, quickly standing in front of his wife.                 “Sire, is that you?” said a familiar voice, from the other side of the door. “Are you in there with Her Majesty?”                “Yes, Brigdan,” …

#NaNoWriMo Day 9: The Return of the Rat

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The rat that plagued the keep is back, and this time he means to rile everyone's sensibilities:

Word of the rat’s presence soon spread throughout the keep, and from everyone’s reaction, the small creature might as well have been a vulture, come to roost on the battlement and lay siege to the castle: the nobles locked themselves in their apartments with their card tables and tea, the servants lifted the hems of their skirts and hid in the servants’ hall, and though everyone was in some manner or other aware of the creature skulking and slenching about, no one was more sensible of its presence than the king.                 The moment the commander broke the news to him, the king replied with a slightly discomposed “Oh…” stood from his seat in the library, where he was looking over the matters at court for the day, and began inching toward the door. He looked under tables, around corners, behind chairs, even beneath his parchments. “Well,” said Alasdair, after a moment’s pause, “I’m…