How the Demon Haute Stole Christmas
Every villager in Woodland liked Christmas a lot… But the Demon, who lived east of Woodland, Did NOT!
Every villager in Woodland liked Christmas a lot… But the Demon, who lived east of Woodland, Did NOT!
”Let me be clear; no one is Haute’s friend, and he helps no one but himself. He’ll be friendly, he’ll do you a favor, he’ll make it look like he’s putting himself in danger for you, but it’s all to his own ends. He doesn’t care about you, and if he helps you, it always comes at a price. Do not trust him, do not promise him anything unless you are absolutely sure you can do it.“ – Ul’vade
Veron jutted awake, he was on the floor on his back. He looked around, the room was rather bright and took a moment to adjust his vision. As he stood and brushed off the strange dust, he noticed there wasn’t a nagging in the back of his mind and Haute had not revealed himself. “You’ve … Read More
Trivial Tales will just be little snippets of daily life, meant to tie stories together, and add a little color to Woodland.
It’s a man’s curse to see himself only as that which he lacks, and it’s his blessing to have friends that have the wisdom to see him as he really is.
“Lorcan, Mimir’s Well is sacred to the men of the North. Drinking its waters gives you wisdom and power beyond mortal reckoning. Even the gods respected and feared the place, and few of them even dared to take a drink.”
Veron shook his head, he hated trusting demons. “Let’s do this, then.”
The cave was so bright he forgot what darkness meant. It wasn’t until a moment later that pitch black enveloped his vision, and a small cackle filled his mind. His heart sank slightly, being unable to see anything, but he was unable to fight the process.
She however paused as he held out his pay, seeming to recognize him. “Wait, what’s your name?”
“Veron Tepes, son of Vlad,” Veron replied, setting down his payment as she seemed to refuse to give him his loaf, eyeing him up and down, trying to recognize where she’d seen him before.
While Veron and Vlad are deciphering what creature it is they are currently studying, Blackkoven is planning something mischievous…
Suddenly a quick fleeting scout appeared from the forest, panting heavily as he approached the gathered group of fighters. “Blackkoven has been spotted.”
We arrived midday at the Order Garrison. A grumpy young man, who I could only assume was the garrison secretary, was tossing excess papers around his desk.
The priest went to help Veron, lifting and carrying Vlad inside while the two hunters slowly and carefully made their way up the steps into the chapel behind them. Upon entering it was dark and musky, frail candles lit throughout the place flickering hesitantly to dispel the shadows that hung everywhere else.
In this Woodland Watch, I give a brief overview of the basic Terrasylvan Lore as I understand it.