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Showing posts with label Dwarves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dwarves. Show all posts

Wednesday, 3 October 2018

Beings whose Memories Predate the Sun

Of course the Humans incarnate were not in a position these days to perceive such a concern, and life is complex enough for them to keep up with in just day-to-day survival.

They did not have the perception (which was partly the problem in the first place) to see much further than their own needs and wants.

But for the beings whose memories predate the sun, there were observations of changes that portended isolation, and potential annihilation - a slow spiritual death from a rapidly ageing Earth.

Our World was losing its connection with the supporting Universal Heart, and the risk was that should this continue, the Planet and all of its spheres of activity, might be cast out upon the Cosmic Sea without higher communication or help - and the Angelic realm could become deaf to us.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Monday, 1 October 2018

Those Historic Crescendos of Calamity

Arnold, a dwarf from the Longfellows clan, approached the group to make his announcement.

In his hand were some papers, on his person, was a brown leather coat and matching breeches that were embroidered with a finely spun silver thread. His under-garments (if you could have seen them) were fine flax. He looked important - he was important - and he carried himself with the nobility of a god.

Arnold was one of the most senior of the dwarves (hence the name of his family) and took his position amongst this group very seriously.

In the parts where he came from, his people were sensitive and responsive to the Physical World in ways that brought them concern during those historic crescendos of calamity.


They were protective of all living things - be them rock, plant, animal, fey, or mortal.

Rarely did they have direct communication with ordinary men and women due to the fact that they simply could not be seen by them. But they often visited and conversed in dreams where folk would wake remembering deep conversations that had come and gone with the night.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series