Zara sat on the cushioned bench, despondently gazing into the embers of the fire she had nearly let go out. There was a rattling at the door and Ruaidhri came in, stamping the autumn leaves from his boots. Zara looked up, startled. He looked at her, then at the dying fire. 'What lass, no dinner again? And it's almost as cold in here as it is out there!' Zara looked mortified. 'Oh Rua, I'm so sorry! I just lost track of the time!' The dwarf looked at her pale, drawn face. 'Aye, same as the last two weeks!
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Dwarven Caravan Market July 16th, 2026 |
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A Well-Earned Feast at Pickdean July 21st, 2026 |
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