Letter Left Behind 12
A letter was left behind on the table of a tavern called the Wayfayer's Rest, or just 'The Rest' to locals. Each letter was made with ink, which bristles with shards of frost that blur some of the writing of the unsigned paper. "I’ve locked the inn. I can still manage to light the hearth, but it does little good. It offers no warmth to these tired fingers. The guests sat closer and closer together as the frost crept in, speaking less with every hour. Laughter fell short and h
Jan 23
Notice 30 Found In Ragne
A piece of parchment was found nailed to the mill door in Ragne. The paper has erratic handwriting throughout, and is signed with three paw prints at the bottom of the page. "To anyone looking for us, The mill is closed until further notice. The wheel still turns when the river swells, but it turns without sound now. It began the other day, we awoke to an errie silence in place of the sound of waters we had become used to as the backdrop of our day. We tried to work through t
Jan 23
Unsent Letter in Ragne 32
This letter was found in a cottage in a state of disarray on the edge of Ragne. The writer was vacant from the property when searched. "Mother, You told me the old stories were meant to keep little children from wandering too far into Blackwood Grove in winter. I believed you back then. But I saw it last night, by the graves beyond the silver birches. The frost had already taken the stones, turning the names dull and unreadable. I tried to brush it away, but my fingers burned
Jan 9
Abandoned Page 12 at Ragne Marketboard
I wasn’t going to say anything, because I don’t want people thinking I’m drunk or grieving or soft in the head. But the ice is wrong. It crept up the alley behind the tannery last night. It did not happen overnight, as I watched it do it. It slid along the stones like creeping breath across a mirror. No sound. No wind. Just there, and then stretching further yet, as if reaching to snuff out the warmth from the fire. I thought I saw someone standing at the end of the lane. Tal
Dec 31, 2025
Abandoned Letter at Blackwood Grove Shrine 23
To whoever tends this shrine next, I leave this as record, do not put your faith in the old prayers. For three mornings now the grey frost has returned to the low fields before dawn. It does not sparkle. It lies flat, like ash pressed into the grass. Where it settles, the soil hardens and cracks as if drained of warmth entirely, though no true cold follows. The kilmei refused to cross it. Even when driven, they balked and cried until pulled away. One knelt frozen to place, st
Dec 31, 2025
Frozen Ragne Paper Piece 2
A journal page was found caught by the wind, it had clearly been torn cleanly down the spine. Elegant, but shaky handwriting denotes the following message. "I thought the stories were just nerves about the season turning, or perhaps fear of famine that often returns this time of year. Then last night, when the mists rolled in just off the ridge, the frost on my window moved. It had not melted. Not fading. No. Moved. Patterns shifting like breath on glass, forming a shape I al
Dec 11, 2025
Frozen Ragne Note Piece 1
A note was found frozen to a gatepost, written in a hurried, cramped hand that had clearly been trembling. "The frost came early this year. Not the clean white kind, but the dark grey kind. The kind that clings in oppressive sheets instead of flakes. I thought it was just the cold settling in wrong, but then I saw it. Shapes. Not footprints. Not animal tracks. Just indentations. Like something leaned its full weight into the frozen earth and slid itself forward wthout lifting
Dec 10, 2025
Stories the Campfire: The Ceth of the Amber Empire
We were fortunate to find a few chatty Ceth amongst the bunch, but as Human writers venturing the Ceth territories, we certainly felt an air of unease.
Nov 28, 2025
Stories from the Campfire: The Yui of Esmya
Tonight we visit Loratzen, home to the Yui people. A city of elegance, and many would argue opulence, however it is well known for its peoples cultural influence.
Nov 21, 2025
Campfire Stories from the Sirin 01
It is deep in these catacombs that our second story is told by a Potoo Sirin by the name of Jebediah.
Nov 20, 2025
