The Third String.
|
Tales from a Dagda Bard
|
The Third String.
|
Tales from a Dagda Bard
|
1/3/2018 5 Comments A Long Day and a Tough NightIt had been one long day. He couldn't recall a longer one in all his years, still he would never say that it hadn’t been worth it, nor that he hadn’t enjoyed it. As the sun began its descent at long last, night’s darkness crept slowly towards the places it had long been denied. His rolling gait took him by the roads away from the Rath of Eclmar and on across the country towards the West. In the crook of his great arm rested the bundle, and swaddled within it the child. Such a small pudgy thing, all pale skin and softness. As he looked down where it slept, held close to his bodies heat, he saw the face scrunch up in momentary discomfort. The returned warmth of the fart was accompanied a smell of mothers milk, pungent in the Dagda’s nostrils.
5 Comments
30/1/2018 0 Comments To Walk the Mountain TopsThe mountain air was cold as it passed my lips, sending it searing chill deep into my lungs. I exhale faster than my natural rhythm just to get the air out of me before the cold can catch to my lungs and freeze me. The views around the area are grand and sweeping, all rolling glacially crafted curves covered in years of rich brown soil upon which the green of the island’s grass is grown. My eyes do not see them as they fall to the hard frozen ground in front of me. My heavy feet move forward one step at a time as I watch for the next rock or dip upon which I might stumble. 30/12/2017 2 Comments Winter WorkingIt was quiet as he approached the forge. Understandable and to be expected given the lateness of the hour. The sleigh he pulled made little noise as it slid across the hard frozen ground. He had been out since the days ending doing his habitual rounds for the season, dropping off whatever he had that could be of use to those who had need of it. Stopping a moment to allow his legs a rest he took deep lungfuls of air and watched his breath cloud in the cold as he exhaled slowly, dark eyes following the puffs until they dissipated in the night. A last stop then home to a welcoming hearth and a stiff drink to warm the body off its chill. 28/11/2017 0 Comments Two ChairsThe space was filled with silence. There are many kinds of silence. The type that comes once a person passes out of a space of extreme noise. The terrified silence of prey when they sense the presence of a predator. The near maddening silence of sensory deprivation. The silence of the grave, all encompassing and definitive. The kind of silence that exists comfortably between old friends who do not need to fill the space. This silence was none of those, and in the odd ways of things, all of them. 31/10/2017 1 Comment The Fomorian Supper**Content warning pertaining to Non Consensual physical interaction. My apologies if it upsets anyone. It most definitely upset me. ** War. It's all they seemed to want to talk about. The gathering of chieftains had been in session since the days dawning and now it approached its dusk. Word had come from the Fomorians offering hospitality and so the chieftains had been called to have their say, and what say there was had spoke of warriors, weapons, battles and glory. He had sat for the full day in quiet watching his people, listening to their words and reading the truth of their hearts. The truth which made the sadness come heavy upon him. |
Archives
October 2022
|