The Frewyn Herald: Home of the Haanta Series

Poet, author, journalist, activist, teacher: these are only some of the titles given to Maya Angelou during her reign as a literary pioneer. She was also a dancer, a singer, a cook, and a producer. She was born into a tumultuous family, was raped when she was eight years old, sustained shock for years after the incident and did not speak for much of the rest of her childhood. It was during this time that she cultivated a love of literature and an appreciation of art. Her teenage years were even more distressful, turning to prostitution to earn enough to raise her son. She moved through various cities, became a celebrated dancer, traveled with the opera, learned many languages, and became involved in the Civil Rights Movement. She became an editor and was encouraged by friends to write her life story, an autobiography which highlighted her transformation as a young woman. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings has become one of the greatest autobiographies in English Literature. It stands as a...

Mharac, the Great Bear, is servant to the Frewyn God Borras, God of Wilderness. Mharac began as a man who was turned into a bear and enslaved as a punishment for his crimes against the inhabitants of the Westren woods. He grew to like his ursine form and decided to remain in Borras' service even after he was forgiven and released. He returns to Westren for the seasonal hunts, to protect the bears and wolves from poachers. During his time in town, he often indulges in an evening's houghmagandy with the local women, which sometimes results in a son. The Sons of Mharac are Mharac's children, all of them born with the ability to change into an ursine form, just like their father. They often hide their abilities from the general public, fearing to invite circumspection and ridicule, but there are a few clever hunters, like Eadmhaird, who can find them out:   A pause here, a fervent look on one side, a placid smile on the other, and Eadmhaird was instantly apprehensive. Som...

Eadmhaird Cinmarragh is Westren's premiere hunter. He has been champion of the famous Westren hunts for the last thirty years, and while he has claimed many prizes in his career, there is one prize that he will remember above all others: The Black Bear                 P erched on a bough of the dawn redwood, mantling low over his prey, with his reed pipe in one hand and his dart in the other, Eadmhaird watched the hart graze on a patch of three-cornered leek and ramsons as he prepared his shot. It seemed insensible of his presence, though his shadow hung in unmoving delitessence beside it, only his fingers suffering to move slightly as he pushed his dart through the reed and held the end of it to his lips. He inhaled quietly through his nose and pressed his mouth to the reed, ready to exhale, when the hart, startled by something close by, suddenly lifted and turned its head, its ears oscillating e...

 Bartleby clearly does not know how to enjoy himself at a pub: A ll was reconciled by the captain’s speech: the waitress was highly gratified by his compliment and attention to her, and with a schoolgirl’s giggle and an arch smile, she tripped away to the bar, where two men were quarreling over the copper that Bartleby had tossed their way. They gave up the coin when asked for it—it fell absently from their hands when the woman’s deep dales came into view—and claiming her prize, she placed the coin with the rest of her change, and hurried away to the kitchen, leaving the two men to invigilate after her, astonished that she should use her vale as a purse and wondering what else might be hidden away in such a sacred cove.   “Yes, go rollick elsewhere, you understapper,” Barbly grumbled into his glass. A shadow surmounted him, and he looked up to find Danaco’s disapproving aspect glaring back at him. “What?” The captain placed his hands on his hips and raised a brow....

Bartleby is horrified by many things, but most terrifying of all to him is the sad want of intelligence in a person and the butchering of a language he loves so well:                 T he drinks over, the glasses empty, and the consequences thereof now settled safely in-- Damson slumping forward over the table with his cheek pressed against the wood, bemoaning the horrors of his delightful cushions somehow vanished, Rannig and Danaco moderately flushed and well cheered, and Bartleby tolerably inebriated and sibilating bibulousness through his speeches—a meal must be ordered and aet if they were to recover from their varying states. Danaco and Rannig had little to recuperate from; their cheerful volubility only increased, and both were disposed to talk of how best they might besiege the castle now that they were come close to it and had the chief of the king’s men under their ascendance, but Damson was in no st...