Tales From a Thousand Worlds

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Category Archives: The Chronicles of the White Bull

In the Lair of the Bloody Handed – Part Two

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Their progress, while steady, at times had to be aided by cutting a path ahead of them when the undergrowth grew too dense. The forest did not grow on flat land, but across terrain that undulated in a series of low rises and ridges through which gullies cut. Small creeks and streams flowed down through the gullies, across beds of rocks and stones that had been worn smooth by the flow of water, before disappearing off into the forest. In the distance they started to hear the sound of a heavier rush of water, a larger stream or even a river. The noises of the wildlife never abated though rarely did they see anything beyond a flash of colour as a bird took to flight and darted among the trees. Of ground beasts they saw nothing, as they stayed absent, either hiding away in the undergrowth or remaining off in the distance.

Follow this link for Part Two of In the Lair of the Bloody Handed

In the Lair of the Bloody Handed – Part One

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It struck Nhaqosa as somewhat funny how things could change. Not the little, everyday things, but the big ones, like how one moment you could be standing in snow and ice with the bitter cold whipping at you, and the next find yourself elsewhere, in this instant that being a steaming jungle, with all around them a wall of verdant growth, and an air that hung suffocating through heat and moisture. And before that it had been deserts, just as hot, but drier, and devoid of any life.

Follow this link for Part One of In the Lair of the Bloody Handed

Nights of Fire – Part Eight

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They spent that night in the cave with Marran and the yhara-te, sharing a meal of roasted lizard as they listen to Marran regal them with tales of his time spent living alongside the primitive creatures of the northern mountains. One by one they fell asleep on the fleeces provided, the cave staying warm even as the fire burnt low, heated by the warmth of many bodies.

Follow this link for Part Eight of Nights of Fire

Nights of Fire – Part Seven

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Snows and winds lashed at them as they followed the yhara-te up mountain paths, the sky darkening with both heavy clouds and the ending day. Nhaqosa peered through the weather, trying to follow where they were headed. Snow capped crags rose up sheer around them, and precipitous slopes dropped away, fading into the clouds, and all about spread the endless vista of grey and white. It would not do to be lost up there, not with the weather turning for the worst. Nhaqosa knew all he could do was hope that soon they would find a place of shelter, for his companions were beginning to suffer, shivering as each fresh blast of wind buffeted them. He had been too eager in his desires and had not allowed sufficient time to properly prepare for the weather that they were new encountering, an error for which he chided himself.

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Nights of Fire – Part Six

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By the time the first light of the following morning had arrived, the snow had begun to fall heavier. Overhead, the sky showed grey and dreary, thick with clouds that roiled across the heavens, a heaving mass that threatened worse to come. The company commenced their ascent up towards the mountains into the teeth of a strong breeze that whipped the snow into their faces, following along trails made by wild beasts, along hillsides and ridgelines.

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Nights of Fire – Part Five

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The search for a campsite for the night brought them to a ridge that jutted out into the forest from the foothills of the mountains they were headed towards. They clambered up it, out above the bulk of the forest, and there they sheltered for the night among a small stand of windswept trees. The night’s sky once more opened forth with the brilliant display of lights and colours that they had seen the previous night. The illuminance of the scintillating colours was, if anything, more intense than that of the night before.

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Nights of Fire – Part Four

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A tangled passage of growth lay ahead, interspersed by swift flowing streams of freezing water that cut through the forest, running fast across beds of smooth worn stones. They lost all sense of direction in the maze of foliage beneath the thick canopy, unable to pick out any markers in the distance. Their only guide to keep them on the path they wished to follow came from the pendant that hung around Nhaqosa’s neck, tugging them along the direction they needed to head.

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Nights of Fire – Part Three

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The scintillating display that blazed across the sky continued late on into the night, smothered as clouds once more began rolling in. Dawn arrived with a light snow falling, a dusting of it settling upon the hills.

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Nights of Fire – Part Two

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The weather closed in on around them. The breeze picked up to a wind that howled across the barren hill slopes with a knife like intensity, shredding through their clothes as if they were mere tattered rags, to chill them to the core. Even Nhaqosa, born as he had been in colder climes and graced with a thick hide, felt it. In his mind, the cause of it had been the long years spent in hotter lands, to which he had become acclimatised.

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Nights of Fire – Part One

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The first flakes of snow drifted along upon the air, born aloft by a chill breeze that gusted through the barren, windswept range of hills. They tumbled to a rest on a dozen travellers negotiating their way through the rugged terrain, a rough looking mob bundled up against the weather. The snow melted almost as soon as they had settled on the travellers.

Follow this link for Part One of Nights of Fire