Thorn's Chronicle: The Druid's Council

I recognized the Elders from Riverfork and Achelos, and nodded greetings to them. Their brows furrowed, bushy eyebrows growing closer above eyes as stony as those of the Hierarch. Only the Eldress of Dymrak showed any sort of favorable reaction, if you can call quirking a gap-toothed smile, only to hide it behind long-nailed fingers “favorable.” Her black eyes glittered, hungrily, it seemed, lingering on the bracelet and lead.

Kaldmont 27th: Partings

Waning crescent of the Deep Snows (on or about Kaldmont 27, 997AC)

We parted ways at Rifflian, the Baron continuing north to his holdings, with Saoirse and the ranks of Silva’s Army (who spent the entire two days’ trip until Kelven arguing over whether they were to be called ‘The Defenders of Threshold,’ ‘The Company of Maidens,’ or ‘The Handmaidens of Petra.’)

Handmaidens of Petra: The Temple, continued

**XV**

“I could have fought him,” Justin grumbled.

“That thing was not…” Katarin started.

“Alive?” asked Brynne.

“Dead,” said Jasna.

Ten days and counting...

Ten days to go until the first installments of the third arc of Thorn's Chronicle go up.

Thorn's Chronicle of the Last Daughter of the Lost Kingdom Saga.

Last Daughter of the Lost Kingdom

Keeper of Dreams, Waking Dreamer

Sleeper Wakened, Walker in Moonlight

Blood of Kings, Bane to Those Beyond

Her Life, the Prison’s Binding Chain.

Lost Daughter of the First Empire

Wearer of Masks, Darkling's Schemer

Sleeper Wakened, Stalker in the Moonlight

Blood of Those Beyond, Bane of Kings

In Death, the Prison's Chain Unbound 

"Masks of the Dreaming Night," begins in the spring


An abandoned dwarven fortress.........
A drowned city ............
A forest of unquiet stone...........
One daughter's choice........
Another's sacrifice

Handmaidens of Petra: The Temple, continued

**XII**

The stench of death grew thicker as the curtains parted. A figure, robed and hooded in tatters of brown and gray cloth, stepped down from the mold-ridden mattress and bedclothes. The hood swiveled as it took in the intruders, and each of the girls shivered as the cold glare washed over them. Lord Justin’s sword rattled in his grip, though he did not lower the blade.

Handmaidens of Petra: The Temple, continued

**VII**

“Yeah, Jasna can be like that, sometimes,” Petra said, as Justin hefted her from the pit. She patted his hand, then joined the other girl in the corner by the bookshelf, picking through what few papers were left in readable condition.

“You might want to wipe a little more at your cheeks,” Katarin whispered, as he hauled her over the edge. “It won’t do for Jasna to see you crying.”

Handmaidens of Petra: The Temple of the Shield

**I**

“Stop pushing!”

“There’s nothing here. It’s just a slimy old hole in the rock.”

“I told you this is a waste of time. We could have been eating sweetmeat pies. But nooo, you had to--”

The girls crashed to a halt against Justin’s backpack.