Griffins Don’t Grow on Trees. Usually.
Naira and Caelen set out to gather firewood. They returned with a baby griffin instead. Discover how Yuki found a new family in this tale from the writings of Tarric Vethrin.
Naira and Caelen set out to gather firewood. They returned with a baby griffin instead. Discover how Yuki found a new family in this tale from the writings of Tarric Vethrin.
Caelen Weaver is the Commander of the Templars and one of the most powerful humans in Elyndor. Tarric Vethrin tells the story of a man who carries more responsibility than anyone should—and still never hesitates to help others.
Not every crown prince dreams of ruling. Meet Lucryss, the heir to Elyndor who would rather wield a sword than play the endless games of the royal court.
Some people search for adventure. Naira simply finds it. Meet the curious elf who can turn an ordinary apple, a forgotten pendant or a simple walk into a full-blown catastrophe.
An apple. A letter. A mysterious magic mark. When Naira breaks a sealed letter, she unknowingly sets the events of The Keys of Elyndor in motion.
There are places in every city that are never officially mentioned, and yet everyone knows them. In this city, it lies in the lower street. Of course it does. It would not function anywhere else.
“The Burned Maid.” The name sounds worse than the place is. Which is probably intentional. Names in Elyndor rarely serve only one purpose.
I was there once….
There is a road south of Valthera that is considered safe.
That is usually the moment I start to worry.
Safety in Elyndor is an interesting concept. It usually only means that no one has died loudly enough…
I once met a merchant who tried to sell me a “miracle tea.” She said the name as though the word alone justified the price.
She stood in my tavern, very confident in herself, and explained that this tea could do everything ordinary tea could not. Provide energy. Bring clarity. Chase away fatigue. Perhaps even correct bad decisions—though I was never entirely sure whether she meant that seriously or was simply being bold.
I listened. Then I told her …
once saw a golem in the city hall who refused to speak to me. Not out of spite. Out of pause. The clerk beside him explained that he was currently “regenerating.” I asked if that meant he was tired. She didn’t laugh for a very long time.
Golems are no longer a spectacle in Elyndor…
A young adventurer once walked into my tavern. Maybe early twenties. A massive sword on his back. Far too big, of course. The boy had to turn sideways just to get through the door. He probably considered it impressive. The guests considered it entertainment. Poor kid.
He sat down in the middle of the tavern, ordered the most expensive wine he clearly could not afford, and began loudly talking about monsters that were supposedly “no real challenge.” Nobody believed him. What actually gave him away, however, was something else: he was missing a shardband…