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Weekly Contest #309
“Do I know you?”“Could be you do, yes…” Southeasterly and slow, a billowing of clouds loomed over there, those Northern mountains of which shade and security imperiously begat the town of Niruidhin; a crown of crag and mineral carapace. Upward, a long and mild incline had once been set upon the lordly range’s chest for sake of travel and trade; a road slow to meet the rise. A quarter journey, and one may find a way station, downtrodden though firmly afoot, with a small, oaken inn, and benches made of moon-worn granite. They faced the horizon...
Weekly Contest #308
An orange-gold hue broke over the hills, those bespeckled by pale cottages with layered-straw roofs. A gathering of neatly dressed men and women arranged round the well of the village, which was dug in a communal center in the middle of the mostly matching homes and shops, and on the cobbled lip of which stood the most neatly dressed man in town: the Governor of the Solstice. Of course, he who governed the annual celebrations of light, life, and otherwise, was the eldest of the elders, who all hoped would be the wisest as well. This year, ho...
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