A Woodcarver's Son

“There’s a magician sixty leagues from here that houses a brothel … he has been bewitching children into mules.”

Robin looked quizzically at Francis, and then nodded him to continue.

“After a time in service, the boys sprout ears and tails - it is disgusting to hear them whine for home, stamp their metal-shoed feet, in the barns wherein they are imprisoned.

“It begins with a frivolity that soon turns dark. The boys are runaways: a few escaped the military, some are so young they are truant from school; tempted with promises of mystery rides and candy, very soon they are neck-tied and being led to the paying men whose members seek out young flesh and unformed bodies.”

“Have you seen this for yourself?” Robin asked deeply disturbed at what he was hearing - he had not been aware of any bordellos housing halflings such as this.

“No, I have only heard reports. One, from a woodcarver who recently lost his son and came to us asking that we pray for him.”


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

A Bromance

Goober, Mr Fabaceae, was in love with Puck like no other - it was a bromance with a humble love - as plain as plain could be - simple, straight and self defining - where the admiration of one does not over shadow the other; a love with respect supported by the certainty that no matter how far one is adrift in the Cosmos, your friend will come and find you.

Mr Fabaceae loved Mr Black - and Puck loved Goober back - they had met so very long ago they had quite forgotten their first meeting.

Charley was immensely fond of her lanky uncle and had privately wondered if the two were intertwined.

“No,” said her father having read her thoughts on this question - "we go deeply, we do but not, in such communion.”


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Vision of the Golden Age

The Fey, for the most part, were obedient to their cosmic obligations, and by nature, co-operative.

But the Humans had brought greed into the realm - awakening the preposterous deception, that one could want more than they need, and house it for the morrow. Yet nothing keeps, worth keeping, and with the desire to amass, came wizards and hobgoblins, bat-crazy furies, snake charmers, idol worshippers, whip cracking masters - masters of doom and masters of dark, masters of divine, fallen angels, demigods, and gods.

Some of the more notable opponents to Humanity’s graces, had crossed paths with Puck along the way - and, undeterred, he had promised himself to stay true to the earliest vision - that of the Golden Age - that period he had loved the best - that era when Men were his natural friends, and the borders between the two worlds did not exist.

“It will come again” he muttered to his invisible friend “it's only time”.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Tangled Mesh of Karma

Puck had no idea whatsoever what was to come next.

Even the Elvish are caught within the uncertainties of this world.

Long had he been committed to a life well lived - both in his Etheric residence and the play of Humankind. His affinity was born of compassion for the weaknesses of men, and the admiration for their strengths. One could almost say that he loved Mankind, yet he did not envy them.

This perhaps was the biggest myth of all when it came to the kingdom of Faerie … that Men bethought themselves worthy of envy. No, these fellows were the younger brothers and twice disgraced - falling out with paradise into the tangled mesh of Karma.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Tin Man

The tin man he had made had attracted the fairies, for the metal itself was of the planet Juniper Berry - Jupiter - a frivolous partner to the juveniles of the wood, whose cosmic rays of jest and joviality lit the tin of the giant like a beacon to the face. They loved to gather at his feet and have their pictures taken - swinging from his shoulders and playing hide-a’-seek amongst his intricate armour.

Yes, the Fay too have a passion for selfies, and although they do not work a lens as we might, they can use the light to cast their impressions, making fast their images onto the fur of the rose petals, or on the gossamer of a snail’s trail, capturing a moment in perfect detail, inscribing these images onto the surface of any living thing as though it was the finest engraving - sealed with moonbeams coupled with the dust of dawn and a tweak of time, adjusting it back just a moment or so.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Thieving Fairies

Oscar was a metalsmith and he supplied the town and thereabouts. He hammered and joined metals for every need and occasion: he made a tin man that was twice the size of the largest knight, and stood him outside for all to see. Alberto would talk to the shiny giant when he visited from the shop beside, and place little rounds of bright red wax into his huge palms as pretend coins.

All was going very well for Casper and Oscar until the fairies came and started carting away some of their wares in the night.

At the first Casper had noticed his wax pots were missing. There was an internal door that connected the other’s store - and Casper asked Oscar had he taken them.

To which Oscar replied “no”.

A few nights later Oscar was missing ten bright bars of silver - his prized pure silver - and he went to Casper and asked of him, had he taken them? - to which he replied “no, I did not”.

Nightly their stocks both diminished - and it did not take long for them to realise that it was the fairies who were thieving their wares.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Casper's Wax

Casper generated wax of every variety - supplying the town and roundabouts.

Waxes for sealing clay pots for food and for finery; waxes for documents, candles and death-masks; with colours and perfumes, raw and fine resin; wax to make luxurious seed hives; doll’s heads, wax for the carvers, the cloth dyers; the bronze-smith; and the cheesemaker. The only wax he would not sell was the blackened wax, used for effigies and unsavoury magic. He did not like the customers this brought in.

His wax was in high demand and his business was so strong that he worked night and day, and some.

His small son, Alberto, would watch him as he busily laboured; and when his papa had his back turned, he would hurl small objects into the melt pot and watch them sink, or put them on sticks and coat them like candied apples.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances