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Showing posts from July, 2015

Story for the Day: Ailbhe and Aidhill

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There are many stories of the Gods looking after orphaned children, and while there are children who claim their attention and merit their care more than others, it's really their endearing quality that draws a God's notice. A chorus of voices rang out from the common room, the minstrelsy of curious minds, the oos and aahs of childlike wonder, saw Fuinnog swarmed with many interested disciples the moment       he appeared in the room. It was the usual evening gathering: the dirt of the day scrubbed off, their faces cleaned, their mouths fed and small frames well-clothed, the orphans gathered round the fire for the last ten minutes—and another five more minutes after that, and perhaps only another five if the Brothers and Sisters would allow—of playtime, before stories of Old Gods and Fearsome Warriors were to lull them to sleep. The somnolent throes of slooming children were what Fuinnog was silently wishing for after having been in the common room for all of a minute,

Story for the Day: Fuinnog, God of the Sky

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In the Frewyn pantheon, there are numerous circles of gods and goddesses, all of them related, all of them worshiped in their turn, but not all of them well-liked by one another. The Four Sons --Frannach, Borras, Aoidhe, and Menor-- don't get on well with one another, and while other Gods like Paudir, Ogham, Persays, and Reis are peaceable, they would rather spend time amongst their worshipers than they would with one another. Fuinnog, God of the Sky, acts as the peacekeeper between the divine groups, and while some are generally pleased to see him, not everyone appreciates his presence:   T here was the whisper of the evening breeze passing through feathers, the sound of large wings beating in a rushing rote, and the image of a gorm appeared, immense and threatening, lighted by some silver glamour, its outline glowing iridescent. It landed on the brow of the hill and flapped its wings, the force of which compelled the tall grass in the issuing fields to prostrate under the

Story for the Day: Aoidhe and Chune -- Part 2

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C gnita’s letter arrived first, being only come from Barrellynn and the Haven, but it was the letter                                “I am being made chief of the expedition!” Eilen cried, tumbling into the infirmary, her arms flailing. “I’m being made chief of the expedition!”                 She waved the letter about in a panic, and Cgnita nearly dropped the arm he was examining as he stood to greet her. “That is excellent news,” Cgnita proclaimed, resisting the urge to embrace her while a patient was by. “I am absolutely delighted that the society is going to be allowing you to—Mrs Whittaker, really, if you don’t stop moving, I will never get this bandage on.”                 “Fah!” the old woman grunted. “Didn’t even look at my arm!”                 “Oh, I am sorry,” said Eilen, stepping back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”                 “Not at all—I did look at your arm, Mrs Whittaker, very thoroughly, and as I told you before, it was only a bruise. I am bandaging