“I AM THE KEEPER OF Memories,” said the man in the natty blue silk robe. “What do you offer?” “For your custom, or your breakfast?” replied Prosatio Silban. “Breakfast first!” cried the Keeper of Memories, and chuckled. “Always. Food before…
Tag: WIP
Works In Progress. The “typing” part of Writing — and the most challenging.
Prosatio Silban and the Disconsolate Wineherd
EVEN OVER THE CLANK OF his galleywagon, Prosatio Silban could hear the sobs. The weeper, a well-to-do farmer by his dress, was standing beside a smartly-appointed and -laden oxcart at the crossroads near Vineol, a town renowned throughout the Uulian…
Prosatio Silban and the Haunted Oyster
OF ALL THE THINGS THAT make the Three Cities and Thousand Villages of the Uulian Commonwell unique, perhaps none so typify that uniqueness as their calendar. Where other peoples marked time in a strictly numeric fashion, the Uulians used a…
Gustibus Interruptus (A Prosatio Silban Tale)
WITH A PATIENCE DERIVED FROM long practice, Prosatio Silban measured his pain and disgust against the vast cold deeps of Time. It was an old reflex, and a welcome corrective to the blood trickling from his arms and legs, not…
Prosatio Silban and the Hidden Kingdom
THEY WERE STURDY, SQUAT AND rowdy, but also virtuosi of fire and metal – which was only one of many reasons why Prosatio Silban always enjoyed the Delvers’ company. He had arrived for the first time at their northern realm…
Prosatio Silban and the Quest Authentic
PROSATIO SILBAN DIDN’T ACTUALLY MEAN to offend a decedent cook – but sometimes, that’s just how the game-bones fall. This is how it began: The culinary mercenary was browsing his favorite secondhand book-and-scroll shop in the city of epicurean Pormaris…
Prosatio Silban and the Infinite Application
THE RICH PANOPLY OF UULIAN cuisine offers recipes suitable for everyday use, as well as those forming the culinary backbone of special occasions. And sometimes, one can serve in both roles. Prosatio Silban smiled the smile of a man completing…
Prosatio Silban and the Familiar Spirit
WHEN VISITING YOUR BOYHOOD HOME after the passage of too-many years, it’s only natural that it should seem quite a bit smaller than last you saw it. But aside from towering over the landscape, Prosatio Silban was amazed by how…
Prosatio Silban and the Midnight Invader
THERE ARE FEW SITUATIONS AS disquieting as falling awake in the middle of the night convinced you’ve heard an intrusive sound, but with no aural evidence to back such an urgency. Prosatio Silban lay still in his galleywagon’s sleeping berth,…
A Prosatio Silban Amuse-Bouche: Room
“DOESN’T IT MAKE YOU CLAUSTROPHOBIC to cook in such confinement?” asked a visitor to Prosatio Silban’s close-quartered galleywagon. “Less than you would think,” the beefy cook answered over the chop-chop-chop of mincing lizard-breast. “I actually find that it makes me…
Prosatio Silban and the Three Prayers
PROSATIO SILBAN WAS ALONE. True, he had the company of his faithful dray-beast, Onward. But as for others of the beefy cook’s own species, none were nearby for long miles – one reason why his surroundings were known as the…
Prosatio Silban and the Annual Doom
TO SOME, DEATH IS AN unwelcome interloper; to others, a faithful ally. And to even others, its palpable presence can bring a type of hope. Prosatio Silban swallowed the last of the blue duliac in his glass and sighed. He…