Showing posts from November, 2017

Story for #Thanksgiving: Harvest Moonshine

Mean Fhomhair is the beginning of the Frewyn High Holidays and the last harvest of the year. Naturally, this means feasting and drinking until someone has had too much and needs to go home, but the evening cannot be finished without someone bringing out the moonshine, in this case good ol' fashioned Westren Rime:

Story for the Day: A Proper Thankin'

There are many euphemisms on the farms with regard to cubicular pursuits: a 'Sethshire sowing', a 'Glaoustre mining', or a 'Tyfferim thanking' are all used when in company with the young to indicate what activities will be taking place in the home later that evening. Winters in Frewyn are long, and what better way to warm up the house than to show how thankful you are to the one you share it with:

Story for the Day: A Frewyn Veteran -- For #RemebranceDay

Frewyn Remembrance Day  is the day that the Galleisian war ended and honours all of Frewyn's fallen throughout their nation's history. All of the Westren regiments wear their clan kilts, the Brigade sound their horns from the mountains, Tyr's Tygh is recited, and everyone honours those who have passed with bouquets of rye grass, snowdrops, and daffodils, the national flowers of Frewyn. Some offer a prayer to Frannach, God of War and Peace, and others say a prayer to Menor, Guardian of the nation, in thanks for keeping the kingdom safe, but everyone gives tribute to the Veterans of the Second Galleisian War, for without their valour, Frewyn would have surely perished. The Veterans, however, are left with cares and anxieties for the future that can never be done away:

Boudicca was glad to be alone, her spirit growing sanguine toward the joys of observation, the equanimity of being allowed to stand and survey and say nothing. Being a farmer in Western Tyfferim, having grown up…