Sarah Rosanna Busch
I am a writer, illustrator, and software developer. I'm here to exercise my writing skills through short stories of fiction, fantasy, and sci-fi. Learn more about me at sarahrosannabusch.ca
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. That's odd, you think to yourself as you walk by the old abandoned cabin on your way home. You stop to see what you can sense: The forest around you is calm and quiet; The daylight dims to dusk; The air is cool and dank with decomposition. All typical for spring.
This biography can be found on the book jacket of many tomes found throughout the Library of Lore. Though Temerity may struggle to carry but the simplest of tunes, few weave words as wonderfully as she. She has travelled far and wide, telling treasured tales of peasants and paupers as often as of adventurers and aristocrats. For this she was welcomed warmly when she showed up at the Library of Lore seeking to master the magic of musings and music. In just a few short years she has done much to further our cause, by adding her own stories to the bardic collective and by breathing new life into the ones she's learned from us here.
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Most people still don't know that there are. Dragons traditionally keep their lairs way up in the highest peaks of the Mountain, higher than any bird can fly. They choose caverns whose entrances open out to sheer cliff faces, too steep for even goats to climb. As an added precaution, the dragons' magic twists the lands around their lairs into deadly labyrinths of rock, ice, and thorns. Adventurers foolish enough to venture too near are tricked into taking whatever path leads to a quick slip down a mudslide, all the way to the bottom of a spike-filled pit, where they're entangled by poisonous vines, and, finally, impaled to death by jagged icicles falling from the ceiling. Or something along those lines, depending on the dragon. Some dragons live deep underground instead. They hide their hoards in the fissures of canyons while summoning sand storms in the desert above, to deter any potential looters. But no dragon had ever kept a lair in the Valley.
The Wrong Foot
I felt dirty as I walked out of the job interview. Did I just get played? The answers they wanted were clearly written all over their faces, so I gave them exactly what they were looking for. If they knew I was full of shit they didn't seem to mind. They hired me on the spot. Why did I accept? This job seems horrible. But the pay is better than I'd get anywhere else.