The Hivemind of Hy-Brasil » Places

         

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..... Chuckles and grins indeed, Brynyr enjoyed the merriment and mirth he often shared with his older brother. Tilgrund was, after all, the only person Brynyr had in life. The bond between the half-brothers was a strong one, for the both knew if they hadn't each other, they would have no one. After the chuckles died down, a sour mood passed over Brynyr as he remembered what Tilgrund had said earlier. He dreamt of 'Her.' This, of course, meant their whore of a mother. The very mother that raised them both in a brothel as toddlers, and abused them both. Now, Brynyr knew that the reason she abused them was because they were both accidental pregnancies during her 'job.' And that the townsfolk of their home village abused their mother as much as she had abused the brothers. Still, Brynyr felt only resentment for her, and yearned to never see her again.
..... And so the brothers traveled. And then made camp at nightfall, in the flat-country betwixt the hill-country oh the Stet Hills and the farmland of Central Norwich. Then, they traveled for another day. Then, they made camp, again, less than two hours' travel from a fork in the road that would finally begin to take them northward. They had been following a steady south-east path along the road, when their actual destination was far north-east. Of course, travelling as the crow flies would have lead them off-road and along a dangerous trek through the Stet Hills and the Monstrous Hills, famous for all kinds of beasts ranging from Griffons to Perytons.
..... The next morning, Brynyr rather cheerfully informed Tilgrund, "Today is the first day of Moonfeast! The eleventh month of the year!" Tilgrund, of course, knew Moonfeast was the eleventh month. A day on Hy-Brasil had twenty four hours. A week had ten days. A month had three weeks, or thirty days. A year had twelve months, thirty-six weeks, or three-hundred and sixty days. The months in a year were Deepwinter, Sundawn, First Seed, Rainhand, Second Seed, Midyear, Summertide, Last Seed, Fading, Frostfall, Moonfeast, and Vintertide. The calendar was common knowledge to all in Norwich. The educated knew it because they were, well, educated. The non-educated usually knew it due to it's usefulness in farming or other practices. Brynyr wasn't formally educated, but due to his own rigorous research of both the arcane and the mundane, he may have known more than some of Norwich's own most educated professors.
..... As they traveled on that fourth day of their trek, they came across a company of the king's soldiers patrolling the roads, headed by a Major, who was obviously a paladin, by his silder and gold-lined armor, and obviously decorated sword. The rest of the troops, for the most part, wielded muskets and their red coats showed a more modern look than than some of the higher promoted soldiers. They passed by without any questioning, luckily. Brynyr was always nervous around paladins. In Norwich, arcane magic was extremely outlawed, and if Brynyr were to be outed as a mage, a firey execution was inevitable. At the end of the day's travel, they had nearly reached the town of Hillford, when Tilgrund suggested they make camp instead of heading into town. Ever paranoid. Not that Brynyr wasn't, himself. As they begin to set up camp, Brynyr went to make conversation, and to Brynyr, that usually meant he was about to teach Tilgrund something.
..... "Say, brother, have you every wondered how scholars think the Bekilk Desert was created? Or have you ever head of the Lost Library of Abrelim, said to be buried deep somewhere in the desert?"