Location: On the Road to OrkneyTimeline: Sixth Age, 52 Year, Late Summer to Early Winter To the Amorosi of Arbola Forest, "home" was a living, breathing entity—a symphony of sap and song that stretched back to the roots of the world. But for the Drokka, home was perhaps always a ghost. Given the troubling history... Continue Reading →
2.4 The Mirror in the Woods
Location: Arbola ForestTimeline: Sixth Age, 52 Year, Spring Time is not a straight line for the Architect; it is a tapestry that I have spent eons unraveling and reweaving. While I wrote about the Drokka princes pace their "gilded cage" in the summer heat of the 52nd year, my mind drifted back to the spring... Continue Reading →
2.3 The Council of the Trees
Location: Arbola ForestTimeline: Sixth Age, 52nd Year, Summer Weeks passed as the Drokka waited for an audience with the Amorosi Council. During that time the brothers impatience only grew. To them, the hospitality of the Amorosi was like their wine: sweet, refined, and ultimately thin. For Barkla and Brega, those weeks of waiting were not... Continue Reading →
2.2 The Magical Woods
Location: Arbola ForestTime: 6th Age, 52 year, Summer The transition from the scorched dust of the road to the borders of the Arbola Forest was not a subtle one. For weeks, the Drokka had traveled through the dry heat of the flatlands as they traveled along the Easton-Weston Road between Regalis and Arbola; now they... Continue Reading →
2.1 The Sons of Stone
Location: The Easton-Weston RoadTime: 6th Age, 52 year, Summer My hand cramps as I grip this celestial quill writing my Apocrypha in these so-called 'modern' times, dear reader. Yet the master, The Great Architect insists on the truth, even thought that truth is a bitter vintage when one has to admit to being a fool.... Continue Reading →
1.1 The Hangover of a Hegemon
The sun—that bloated, blinding eye of A’H—crawled over the jagged horizon of Kra with an offensive, almost personal amount of enthusiasm. It didn't just rise; it assaulted. I winced as a stray beam of light caught the edge of a discarded silver tray, lancing through my temples like a needle of pure light worse than... Continue Reading →
10.1 The Flickering Threads of Fate
The air atop Nektar’s Cauldron was thin and biting, a cold that didn't just touch the skin but sought to settle in the marrow. It carried the sharp, familiar sting of sulfur, belched from the volcanic vents that honeycombed the peak below—a scent that, to me, was sweeter than any perfume of Inanna's Pleasure Palace.... Continue Reading →
9.9 Frequency of Fear
Don't make the mistake of thinking I'd escaped. I'd only gained a brief respite but I was still stuck in a sensory nightmare - a shadow-god trapped in a world of high-definition light. I wasn't just an intruder; I was a walking sacrilege - but unlike you people who complain at every nuisance in your... Continue Reading →
9.8 The Spire
The crossing from the island of the Dregs to Lemuria was like a dance upon a shattered mirror. With this portion of the Mylar power grid screaming under the assault of my "overclocked" Dregs, the Light-Bridge here had vanished, leaving only the sapphire mercury sea—a vast, swirling expanse of liquid metal that reflected the chaos... Continue Reading →
9.7 The Sacrificial Lambs
I was The Dark Sun - The God - of The Dregs. And I basked in the glory of it all. These pathetic creatures showed me kindness that I had perhaps never experienced in the entire existence of my long life. True, I had been ready to snap their necks and feed upon their essence,... Continue Reading →
The Apocrypha of Azazel 