There were new Big People in the old Adaams House. They were loud, they were fun, and they were not all that good at the housekeeping in the corners. Oh, the main spaces were, Pol was sure, bright and shining, swept and polished. But the corners, the places behind the furniture, the vast caverns under the sofa and the end tables and so on, those were left to collect dust and crumbs, fur and spills — leftovers. …
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1155023.html. You can comment here or there.
My post yesterday regarding meta-conversations seemed to go over well, so I am going to work my way through the setting options, one meta-conversation a month (If the first one goes well, I’ll add in a Patreon level for more!).
First up is one of the first two suggested: Jaco, from Lady Taisiya’s Fourth Husband. I picked Jaco to start because he’s mouthy, and thus more likely to take questions in stride and actually answer them.
So… Leave questions for Jaco here! Once I have a few, I’ll write up a scene. 🙂
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1154728.html. You can comment here or there.
This is the next post in the ‘Rescue, of Sorts’ storyline, which can be found at this tag: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/tag/character:+daxton
It took them a week to escape the castle, although their eventual bid for freedom was far less dramatic than the first time they’d met. “Just want to scout the countryside,” Daxton assured his parents, and, “they want us to rule something, we ought to see what we could rule,” Esha told her captain.
Nobody believed them, of course. The beauty of it was that it worked whether it was considered truth or lie — let their friends and family think they were off working on the next generation of Ducal heirs. In a sense, they were.
The manor house they found had been carved from a mountainside and built outwards from the stone they’d pulled. Aside from a population of wild mice and some small mountain foxes, it hadn’t been tenanted in a while, but the walls, built when the world was a stronger, stranger place, were still true and strong.
There was a barracks on site that, with some work, could house a mercenary troop in far more comfort than they were used to. And there was a village nearby that could use the protection of a strong force so close.
“It’ll take work,” Esha pointed out. “A lot of work.”
Daxton’s smile was crooked, more amused than pleased. “Still better than a dungeon.”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1154556.html. You can comment here or there.