The sand here was warm and soft, not like the thick brown mud of home. Ser Hal walked the beach towards the high cobblestone wall, the gaudy banners of House Bing fluttering gently in the warm wind as he made his way across the sand. Ahead, palm trees bordered the crooked gatehouse - rowing boats at their feet and a pair of gibbet irons affixed to the wall beside them. In the right iron, a brightly coloured bird picked ribbons of scarlett meat from a withered corpse's forehea

Slowly the water pushed in and out of the dark corridors, in and out like the rising and falling of Gathric's breath. The candle in his hand offered little warmth in contrast with the salt water flowing around his lower legs, the icy water taking the sodden books and tapestries adrift in a dance of in and out. It was as if the corridor itself was a diaphragm to the heaving, dying lungs of Deepcairn above them. The chamber narrowed as he walked deeper, the water rising higher

Brimmouth Bridge stood ahead of the group like a monster snarling and spitting, the unwelcoming air assaulted the nostrils with the smell of death and the spices trying to disguise it. The walls were high and well patrolled, the stained cloaks of their guards hung desperately to the memory of when they were once a shade of blue or white - though their memory was failing. House Brimmouth are a minor house of Southshire, positioned along the central road through the forested hi

To anyone else, having a son risen to the ranks of the Thronesguard would be a great honour, but to Lord Stormer it was a sign of disgrace. "A man should rule not serve!" he cried out at the news of Ser Jerrod's appointment, "It is the caitiff who plays the part of another's dog, trapsing behind and jumping at command! No son of mine will play the cur!". The old nobleman had spat loudly as he spoke, his wine-stained tunic scattering with the debris of his evening meal. House

Garrick stood on the sand, his hand raised to block the afternoon sun as it beat down hard on the damp, brown sand. The screech of the dragon in the distance broke through the crashing of the waves, the rising steam of water boiling at its breath painted the horizon with a misty whitewash. The castle stood ahead of them, the low tide gently lapping at stone pathway that cut across the strand as if all the chaos of the siege was irrelevant to it. He supposed it was, to nature

Two towers stood high above the hilly terrain, reaching high like the spears of the riders that rode before it. Lord Declan watched as the Holton bannermen approached, winding down the twisting road that led from the dark stone gatehouse across the jagged rocks and wild streams. Two riders met him on the stone bridge, one dark, tall and brooding - bearing the sigil of a black crow emblazoned on a forest green jerkin of rough leather - and one shorter, familiar, with a fury of

The walls of Aureswind seemed to sneak through the trees as Bill and Georgina rode forward, appearing through the limbs of green and brown like a stone sunrise. The dark walls were tall and ancient, speckled with ivy, arrowslits and the fluttering banners of orange and brown. As the pair rode their horses up towards the main gatehouse, the forest floor gave way to cobblestone and the sound of the hooves beneath them alerted the birds and bannermen to their arrival. Aureswind

The branches of the weeping willow drooped low in the constant heat, their tips gently grazing the water of the moat. Mal sat in its shade, watching the mayfly and dragonfly dart the summer water, and looked high from the mound at the keep ahead of her. Behind her was carved initials into the tree's bark, she pretended not to see her sister's handywork. She could hear Reece and Cledwyn sparring beyond the castle wars, exchanging vile insults that would have them fed soap by t

"So often it is the sins of the father than wreck the life of the child", Lord Whitecliff spoke coldly: "See here with our dear Queen, surrounded by a den of wolves all but created by her father's hand." Jorren watched the ageing lord closely as he picked at a loose thread in the sleeve of his black and silver houppelande. In the cold winter air, the words bit his ears harder than any freezing wind - what did the Lord want, and why did it feel like he was being tested? King G

She stood nearly six feet in height, long brown hair cascading from her head and sticking out of the bottom of her closed helm. The image made Romidor think of a wild creature bursting from its clothes, like the stories of werewolves that the governess would tell him before bed. In a choice between the wolves in the stories and the woman in front of him, the prince thought he'd have better odds with the wolves - at least wolves didn't wield hammers. Ser Helena Darlynton, know

Bill watched as the Holden knight drove his horse forward, lowering the cinquefoil-tipped lance with expert precision. The purple fabric danced in the air as the knight rode, painting a trail of a twilight sky behind him as the steed thundered towards his opponent. When the lance struck its mark, Bill forgot entirely his training as a respectable lord of the realm - he burst from his seat with a cheer and a fist raised so high that his knuckles grazed the fabric of the Darlyn

Though known for its mountains and rivers, Southshire plays host to many stocked hunting forests throughout its lands - the largest and most famous being found within the Vale of Oldreach, though countless others appear further southwest towards the Bay of Swords. Predominately, the game of these forests are deer and rabbits - the bears and wolves of these lands have largely been hunted to extinction, though wild boar and small amounts of wildcats still remain. These animals

"House Brokenwall? Why on the Gods Green Land would someone call themselves Brokenwall? I thought houses were supposed to be strong? powerful? If my last name was Brokenwall I'd drown myself" - Ser Helena Darlynton, 710 PB House Brokenwall are a minor house of Southshire, sitting in the north eastern forests that give way to the cliffs of the Stone Coast. Their house words, "Once Broken, Now Rebuilt" reference their origins as a minor settlement during the time of Romidor The

Land has always been ruled by those of noble blood, granted and given by the Throne to Lords and Ladies of the realm. Even those born of the commonfolk who later become landowners are then raised to the ranks of nobility through the very act, being granted the rights to heraldry and inheritance. This is the law of the land. There is, however, one - or should we say four - exceptions to this universal law: The Bridge Towns of Oakenshire. Once they were simply bridges, each ded

Ever since Ser Holden Barryl first bent the knee to King Romidor the Great during the conquest of what would become Crosser's County, the ideals of knightly honour and chivalry have captured the hearts and minds of the Cornayan people. The allure of shining armour and gowned horses, the promise of heroism and duty, all draw the interest of nobility and commonfolk alike - but in reality, knighthood is a much more complex, gritty affair Knights, Blackguards, Squires and Errants

When Romidor the Great first united the realm under one banner, he realized that many people in his new kingdom would not accept a ruler...

Prince Romidor Sunjoy was born to Prince Alvarus and Princess Tanwen on the first day of Lucernius, during one of the worst droughts...

The Reign of Alvarus IV Alvarus IV was largely regarded as a good man and a brilliant tourney knight during his youth. When his father,...

The Freystorm Rebellion is one of the most recent military and political conflicts in Cornay, led by the self-styled “Lord of Dragons”...