http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/ 2026-04-14T07:34:08+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/ http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/lib/images/favicon.ico text/html 2011-03-31T20:54:15+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:9stars?rev=1301604855&do=diff by James W & Helen W The pub is a place by the waterfront called the Nine Stars. Of all the words that could be used to describe it, the best is 'cheerless'. It doesn't even have the enthusiastic brawling that most of the other places nearby do. The beer is watered, the barmaid is a forty-year-old harridan who gives short change and shorter measures, and the only people who ever drink there are the regulars. text/html 2011-04-06T22:20:26+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:aftershocks?rev=1302128426&do=diff by Ellie Harriet watched them leave, and wished deeply that she were going with them. The cup shook in her hand spilling the tea she had taken with her to the gate to see them off. A flash, and the shattered world lay before her. All edges and skewed distances. The ground crunched under her feet as the landscape scythed her mind. Her hands shook as she lifted them to close the burnt gate and seal herself in madness. text/html 2011-03-31T20:35:25+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:allyours?rev=1301603725&do=diff by Dom When he was six, Niske D'Artois had a tiny wooden model of a castle by the sea. Servants had carved him wooden soldiers, which he had arranged in a brilliant formation around the walls of the castle, and experienced officers of the Broken Guard had commented how good an arrangement it was. text/html 2011-03-27T19:12:38+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:antoniobye?rev=1301253158&do=diff by Steve J The last entry in Antonio's 'book of thoughts', found abandoned in his former lodgings: Three months. Three months I've been running from those I've hurt or offended, whether on purpose or through misguided actions. When I get a rare moment to sit down and think about it, as now, the problem seems completely insurmountable. Recently, I've even taken to considering leaving the lands of the White City for good, although the thought always fills me with fear and anger. Fear at the fac… text/html 2011-03-31T21:18:07+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:arashi?rev=1301606287&do=diff by Vicky “Sensei, Sensei!” The tall man glanced over his shoulder at the diminutive form of his young pupil as she struggled to keep up with his long stride. He was a tall and handsome man, despite wearing the many scars of battle on his features. His long dark hair flowed over his broad shoulders like an ebony waterfall. Few men in the Kingdom of the Crimson Queen had managed to attain the status he had but his hard work and loyalty had earned Kusanagi Aoki the ear of the Queen herself. text/html 2011-04-05T19:40:51+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:astart?rev=1302032451&do=diff by James W he first thing that the Mastersmith had thought when they stepped into the forge was that Marcello Cristofori had sent his cousin, along with some muscle, to register a characteristically physical complaint about those damn horseshoes. text/html 2011-03-31T21:04:46+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:bandg?rev=1301605486&do=diff by Chris N The Tale of Karan al Mejir and the One Who Watches In the dawn of years the People of the Steppe, the People of Blood and Gold, stood at a crossing of their path. The world of the great steppe was changing: shifting sands had begun to eat away their grasslands and rolling hills, and many of the Golden Streams had stopped flowing. The People had a choice: to change along with the seas of grass and become something new, a People who could live among the great sands that were eating … text/html 2011-03-31T20:56:38+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:beginnings?rev=1301604998&do=diff by Jessie Everything is changing. That’s how it feels. The world is on fire. In the west, black flames leap skywards. No one’s ever seen anything like it before. Something new is happening in the Forest, and no-one seems to know what it means, even though everyone has something to say. I’ve ripped the library apart looking for references to any similar phenomenon – and I’ve not been the only one doing it – but there’s nothing, certainly nothing concrete, practically nothing at all. This is s… text/html 2011-04-03T22:36:38+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:bloodsac?rev=1301870198&do=diff by Jessie Enough, Ulf!’ I called, and took the crystal from his hand. Sebastian reached for it, and spilled his own blood next, drawing it across Bill’s chest as Ulf had done, as the spirit had indicated. ‘You’re a fool, Bill,’ he said, angry, but he did it anyway. text/html 2011-03-31T21:13:08+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:bracket?rev=1301605988&do=diff by James W My name is Ian Bracket, and I have lost my god. They say the Lord of the Gardens was slain by Selena Curiana, may her name be cursed forever. They say it was her sword, her magic -- some say even her blood -- which tainted him into the horror that he is now. text/html 2011-04-05T19:45:05+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:breakingdown?rev=1302032705&do=diff by Joe W “Well if you're vouching for him sir, then I can probably work him into the schedule some time within the next year.” “Such matters are entirely at your discretion, my masters simply bid me make the introduction, and with that done I bid you good day.” The Master Smith's brow wrinkled in a disapproving frown once the retainer turned his back and slipped out the door. Slimy little toady; making as if his master's introductions were of as little consequence as breaking wind. An introdu… text/html 2011-04-05T19:34:54+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:campaigning?rev=1302032094&do=diff by Helen W Sergeant Ambriel Chermes, twenty-five, hunkers down against a tree-bole in the Garden Lands, wrapping her thin regulation cloak around her for wamth. “Sarge?” It's Lofty, the little Islands lad. 'Lofty' is a joke; he's five foot nothing of scrawny nerves. text/html 2011-03-31T20:27:39+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:castaway?rev=1301603259&do=diff by Joe W A tale about Toquell Velasquez, set near the end of the “Dragonfire & Deep Water” LARP. Water trickled between Toquell Velasquez's toes. Another wave crashed in and the noble stepped back to watch with some satisfaction as the tendrils of seawater failed to reach him a second time. As the water began its retreat two rather pressing questions sprung unbidden to Toquell's mind. 'How did I get on this beach and where are my clothes?' text/html 2011-03-31T21:15:47+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:cattale?rev=1301606147&do=diff by Matt H Today's done, oh my pals and all, but the day's just a-start, 'cos soon it's sundown and then things get interesting for the kitty. And to fill the time, I'm playing games with this little one, listening to his tiny mouse heart fly manylots to the second, listening him squeal and cry his tiny mousespeech as I touch him here and there and the redness flows in prettybright drops. And scarce as it may be for a mouse his fur is red to start with, and so for a keepsake I cuts and nibbles … text/html 2011-04-03T22:38:47+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:changingmel?rev=1301870327&do=diff by Jessie She meets the eyes of her mark across the room, and smiles at him. Wine and song are beginning to relax him; his eyes slide across her face; lazy, trusting. The music breaks. She crosses the room to meet him; catches his hands in hers, laughing, playful. text/html 2011-04-05T19:37:47+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:choices?rev=1302032267&do=diff by Vicky H The wind blows roughly against my face but the cold does nothing to me. I can still sense the wind and I still know that it is cold but I cannot feel the harsh insensitive sting that it would have once brought to my cheek. I still remember what it was to be Carmina and her thoughts and feelings still linger on within me. Where she once loved I know I still love. But my body is burned away into Light and my pains and desires with it. I cannot be sure whether I am still what I once w… text/html 2011-04-03T22:35:36+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:condead?rev=1301870136&do=diff by Vicky It was taking too long and she was beginning to wonder, as she lay slumped against the cold stonewall of the abandoned warehouse, if she hadn’t made the cuts deep enough. It could have been near an hour that she had lay there, the sounds of melee raging outside, and the sounds of a revolution ending. The boy, if he were lucky that is, was most likely already dead and soon she would join him. She watched, the life slowly slipping away from her body, as the shadows on the wall danced in… text/html 2011-04-03T22:26:18+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:crose?rev=1301869578&do=diff by Joff Hector Travik, Obsidian Guardsman, clambered up the last few stairs and came face to face with a face he didn't recognise. This must be the Crimson Rose. At last, glory for Travik! “He leapt from the window!” cried the face. Travik stared. text/html 2011-04-05T19:38:49+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:cuttoff?rev=1302032329&do=diff by Joe W Golden curls dropped into the water, sending ripples coursing across the lake. A slow current caught the lock of hairs and they floated gently over into a patch of reeds where they stuck and gathered into a larger clump that was forming. Idly stirring the waters with his foot, Carlos gingerly located another handful of hair and cut it away. Gazing down into the clear waters he was pleased to see an older man looking back at him. Almost bald, his skin bearing an unhealthy grey tinge, t… text/html 2011-03-31T20:30:09+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:dawnw?rev=1301603409&do=diff by Matt H In the City of Silk, a priest is pushing a seed into rich black soil. The children doze in the afternoon sun, some looking sleepily at the seed, the flower, and the autumn leaves set out on the table. Today's lesson is from the priest of the Verdant Lord. Compared to the lessons taught by the Lady of Blood and Wine, this is dull religion. Abruptly, the priest freezes, as though startled. His face twists, apparently in pain. He isn't the only one. The children look around as a small b… text/html 2011-04-05T19:35:43+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:decentfuneral?rev=1302032143&do=diff by Helen It is not a military funeral. She knows how to react at military funerals. She's attended enough, in her time. Full dress, Guard chaplain, stand to attention, eyes front and a twelve-sabre salute for the glorious dead. This is not a military funeral. The Island is full of them - when she walked down from the harbour she could see the priests, grey-eyed and exhausted, blessing the bloated corpses in batches of three before loading them onto the fires. Career military, volunteers and d… text/html 2011-03-31T20:59:06+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:disconnected?rev=1301605146&do=diff by Helen W In the Grand Embassy of the government of His Most Magnificent and Pious Grace the Lemuel D’Artois, Duke of the Port of Glass and its territories, to the White City, things are getting a little... disconnected... Lieutenant Ambriel Chermes knows that the Embassy compound is officially Port soil, and that White City laws don't apply there, but she's still keeping an eye on the gate guards. Some of them have been indulging their Vainglory habits to help pass the hours on duty recentl… text/html 2011-04-05T19:24:52+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:dout?rev=1302031492&do=diff by Peter It is dark outside, for the sky is black with clouds. It is wet outside, for the sky is filled with rain. It is turbulent outside, for a storm rages. Inside, a single candle lights the dark. It burns weakly and looks close to going out. On the floor I can see poor little Bairoth, floorboards prised up next to him and leaden box open. text/html 2011-03-31T20:32:21+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:dragons?rev=1301603541&do=diff by Helen W A private document in Kit Fisable's archives. The original document is a letter to Toquell Velasquez, which has later been annotated in the margins in a different pen. (Annotations represented by italics.) Sir, Follows a summary of what research I have been able to extract from the library at Thousand Arts, among other sources. Given the nature of the subject, the accuracy of any information is suspect, but I have done my best to indicate reliability where relevant. text/html 2011-03-31T20:21:25+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:ennui?rev=1301602885&do=diff by Xan In conversation with Emmanuel D'Artois following the “Raindrops & Roses” event: “Duchess Caroline's Nameday celebration? Pleasant enough, as I recall. Some frightful fools there though, and most disappointing that Niske's shown his true colours at last; I used to be rather fond of him till he revealed himself as a craven coward. Insults me to my face, then refuses to answer my gentlemanly challenge with anything but scared silence! I took that to be assent, but then he goes and spoils … text/html 2011-04-03T22:27:48+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:enricohg?rev=1301869668&do=diff by Fed OOC comment: These are the IC memoirs of Enrico Cristofori – it doesn’t necessarily mean that it is all true and canon. After all, the poor chap may be failing in his old age, adding extra details and snide remarks, or even making the whole thing up to brighten those long, dull days. As for the editor, well, what does he know of the truth? So think of it what you will. text/html 2011-03-31T20:31:20+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:epitaph?rev=1301603480&do=diff by Helen W It is a quiet grief. It creeps up in the silence, taking its time to appear, stealthy. It comes when there's calm; like when she starts the long, cold climb up the Cartography Tower to her quarters, brushing the ancient stone with her scabbards, and text/html 2011-03-31T21:12:07+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:exsolric?rev=1301605927&do=diff by James F The far north is a strange place, where the world of Dreams starts to merge into the 'real' world. Here the divide between universes is weak, and things occasionally enter the world of the White City that don't belong there- travellers have learnt Troglo Fu, met very confused Vietnam marines and even encountered shiny daemons speaking of the Greatest Song in the World. It is in this landscape that Solric Luxfrey lived as a monk, hermit and pilgrim for many years, practicing meditati… text/html 2011-04-05T19:33:27+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:faithintheforge?rev=1302032007&do=diff by Joe W The ringing beat of hammer on anvil cut off to silence as the master blacksmith looked up from his work. “Back already, Jake? I thought you said it would be a week or two this time.” The hulking trollblood eased himself through the doorway, answering the question with a non-committal grunt. “Well there's not much for you to be getting on with; the only order we've had today is apprentice work, and the boys can handle that. You might as well head home.” Jake's thick eyebrows rose as h… text/html 2011-03-31T20:28:52+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:folly?rev=1301603332&do=diff by Peter M It is really quite annoying having to move out of a spacious and comfortable town house to some dank and damp-ridden country house which has not been lived in for far too many a year. It is most vexing that after all this time I can still only afford such a dingy little place. It is all the fault of those other nobles, who praise my courage and my good deeds and who then fail utterly to do anything more concrete about it, such as donating funds to save the West. I hate this house. S… text/html 2011-03-31T21:00:13+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:ghostgum?rev=1301605213&do=diff by Helen W Kit rounds the corner to the alchemical laboratories. Edward Holtz has his own private lab here, a poky room full of strange noises and odd smells. She raps on the door and goes in. Holtz is standing next to a smoking alembic. “I just can't seem to get it to come right, Professor,” he says with a note of sadness in his voice as Kit enters. He turns to her, and the flesh of his face is melting. “No matter what I try, it won't come right.” He starts towards her as his lips begin to … text/html 2011-04-05T19:39:50+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:goodboy?rev=1302032390&do=diff by Joe The child prowled across the rooftop, his daggers clutched tightly in his small hands. He risked a glance down into the alley below him where the group of thugs huddled in the shadows. His marks appeared completely oblivious to him as he advanced; obviously too intent on their own business to pay much attention to the surroundings. Clearly they were meant to die today. He poked his head up to look at the main road, she was still half a minute away; more than enough time. text/html 2011-03-31T20:24:58+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:gruff?rev=1301603098&do=diff by Joe W A tale about the adventurer formerly known as “Tibs”, set shortly after the end of “The Kind Man” LARP. The boy ran through the rain, pursued by the sound of heavy footsteps. He skidded around a corner, tossing the now-empty coin purse into the gutter. The two Hexa that he now slipped into his pocket were not going to be worth this trouble. The Gruff Voice was laughing at him, he had told him to cut the fellow's throat, but it had seemed enough to leave him to his tormented slumber,… text/html 2011-04-07T17:19:05+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:happyeverafter?rev=1302196745&do=diff She watched them bring in the body. They laid it down gently in the hall and stood back respectfully. She maintained her composure until she reached it and knelt down, lifted the shroud from the face and then began to weep. He was still wearing his armour - so thin and flimsy now but he had never learnt to wear anything heavier. She always worried about him when he went out but he would always reassure her 'I will come back'. He had kept his promise and yet... A memory, another man the same p… text/html 2011-03-27T19:10:39+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:hbd?rev=1301253039&do=diff by Helen The document tentatively entitled “Here Be Dragons”, Also known as “Frozen, Flayed, Impaled, Possessed, Betrayed, And Not Necessarily In That Order”, Composed of extracts from the diary of one Kit Fisable, Fellow of the Cartography Department of the White City's College of the Thousand Arts, And self-proclaimed Expert in Dragons. text/html 2011-03-27T18:56:00+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:hwa?rev=1301252160&do=diff by Xan In conversation with Vincenzi Velasquez at the housewarming party for his new residence: “Hello! De-lighted you could make it...” <Sounds of smooching, embraces, and wine being poured.> “Do you like the new place? I am rather fond, I have a feeling I could get quite comfortable here. Mind you, it's not the same as the Forest, but then what is?” text/html 2012-05-21T23:08:59+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:itsnotsad?rev=1337641739&do=diff The Waxing Court is pretty. Sometimes I like to just stand and look up at the fragments as they whirl around, losing myself in all of the memories. It's been... I think a couple of months now, since I came to live here, as the Duchess. Though it's hard to tell how much time passes out there, since in the Court it's only day or night or whatever when we all want it to be. I remember calling out for the King, and they all came to me, and stopped Duke Karl, and... and then we were here, me and Red… text/html 2011-04-05T19:32:02+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:lightinthedeep?rev=1302031922&do=diff by Peter Night has come already and the stars look down upon us as we prepare to leave. Only once before have I been out to perform this duty with another. Sixty years ago I was the young boy helping move the coracle, ready to be inducted into the penance, to give myself up to his service. Sixty years ago, as now, night was upon us before the boat was ready to leave, and sixty years ago the stars watched us also. text/html 2011-03-31T20:33:37+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:lizardslook?rev=1301603617&do=diff by Dom “Orpheus, how I do love thee” sings Rebecca De Courci; and her wings are jagged like those of an owl or a cat. She balances with him like an angel, deft on the high wire, a thin strand of silver that passes through the wind of the White City and the lofty towers of the palace. He is dancing a slow tango, the wire bounces as he steps. She is living in his element, moving like air. text/html 2011-04-03T22:32:48+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:luckybreak?rev=1301869968&do=diff by Joe W “He's dead, Crippins. Let's have his purse and then be off to inform the Governor.” “Your problem Mawks, is that you've got no respect for the dead. Also you're too 'asty, best to make sure he's proper dead. Give him a thorough inspection, you know? Besides, what if he's got any errr, important documents in hidden pockets, or something, we better make sure we don't miss anything.” text/html 2011-03-31T20:55:29+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:luxfrey?rev=1301604929&do=diff by James F An extract from The Faculty of Heraldry's Guide To The Peerage. The Family Luxfrey are an oddity amongst the nobility of the White City: they are a small Family, normally show little interest in politics, and are not particularly wealthy compared to the other noble Families. Their one truly noble characteristic is their age, for they are one of the original peerages dating from the time of the Civil War and their origins lie even further back. text/html 2011-03-31T21:16:56+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:manfire?rev=1301606216&do=diff by Gareth 'Some who travel in the wilderness tell of a strange man, encountered far from the usual roads, sitting in front of a roaring fire and offering hospitality to strangers. They say he speaks oddly, but all he asks from you is a true story. Some say the fire dulls your senses, to tease the story of your life from you; others say he and the fire are one, looking out from hearths and campfires to listen to our tales and secrets. No two travellers meet him in the same place, and those who … text/html 2011-03-31T21:14:44+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:matyr4?rev=1301606084&do=diff by Helen W Sometimes she likes to wander the College late at night, in bare feet. No reason, really; she just likes to feel the stone under her soles. Up the winding staircases, through silent libraries and locked halls. Down to the still quadrangle by the stream, properly named Lanchester for some ancient Dean, but which everyone calls Martyr's Quad. That’s for the saplings - one for every student Marius burned. They're growing strong and healthy, aided by clement weather and drops of sacred … text/html 2011-04-05T19:44:11+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:midid?rev=1302032651&do=diff by Joe W “Dr Holtz?” “Hmm?...N-No, my name is Lamwick. Frederick Lamwick.” “Uh-huh. Come with me, doctor.” “I told you, you've got the wron-” *THWACK* --- Edward Holtz came to suffering from a severe abrasion to the head (Left upper Geringer's Ridge) , a ringing in his ears suggesting the possibility of mild concussion, and a thick hemp sack over his head. All in all not very promising. On the positive side there was the fact they hadn't killed him yet; perhaps he'd get some sort of trial fir… text/html 2011-03-31T21:20:05+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:noregrets?rev=1301606405&do=diff by Jessie * Walking in on your own funeral is one of those things you’d have thought would be funny. It isn’t. * Necromancers. Necromancers, and glass, and visions of things. She remembers, last time up in Dream, Locke cowering in fear, and obeying the demands of the Necromancer because he could see something terrible that the rest of the party couldn’t, something that wasn’t there. She remembers feeling scorn, and then some time after that, running from a nameless, formless fear, and after… text/html 2011-04-03T22:37:44+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:nottoreport?rev=1301870264&do=diff by Jessie ‘Dear Sir,’ Miranda wrote, ‘Regarding my travels in the south…’ And then she was stuck. She didn’t quite know how to go about reporting this one. She thought over the men she had travelled with, the men who’s behaviour she had watched so carefully. The noble. ‘Enrico Cristofori is adventuring to try and regain the favour of his family after an incident with some diplomat’s daughter.’ She didn’t write the words down. It wasn’t like he’d tried to seduce the Bodach or anything. There … text/html 2011-04-03T22:30:25+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:obsidianheart?rev=1301869825&do=diff by Peter She tells me it is urgent, for the messenger is dead. The totality of feathers, sinew and muscle twisted together over the small skeletal frame. Held together long enough for one flight. Dead long enough that one flight is all it will ever manage. The messenger is dead. text/html 2011-04-05T19:29:33+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:orders?rev=1302031773&do=diff by Helen W I march into the embassy, barely noticing as the cheerful greetings of the guards on the gates trail off and turn to worried stares. I stride blank-faced through the courtyard and in through the main door, and even the senior staff - young eighth- and tenth-generation d'Artois and minor de Verlays, usually quick to sneer at the “Johnny-jump-up” captain with her field commission and title-by-marriage - find their words falling silent on their lips. text/html 2011-04-05T19:25:57+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:outout?rev=1302031557&do=diff by Vicky They sit side by side, watching the candle slowly melt away. She shivers slightly but the cold does not bother her so much. It is peaceful here and here she can sit and talk to him about things past. They talk about all the old ones; about Bill and Kit and even about Belor. About better times; when all of them were better people. She tells him how she misses them and he talks of how he wished he could have saved them. All the while the stars shine brightly and beautifully above. Not t… text/html 2011-04-03T22:29:03+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:ovfh?rev=1301869743&do=diff Inspired by Dom, written by James F Heraldry is one of the oldest of the Thousand Arts. The earliest recorded arms date to the First Binding War, when mighty heroes of men and glorious religious institutions fought to overthrow the tyranny of insane gods. The language used to describe arms is not the language of the common man, it is a tongue full of archaic words with subtle references to events long-since passed. And also, it must be admitted, some terrible puns. text/html 2011-03-31T21:09:51+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:pregrets?rev=1301605791&do=diff by James F Her mascara ran. She lay in the undergrowth, stifling her sobs, listening to Federico and Ratrina- her friends, her cousins, people she knew and loved- calling for her, the pain of betrayal in their voices. She wasn't sure if they were looking to save her or kill her. She knew they mustn't find her. text/html 2011-03-27T18:53:55+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:rattleprince?rev=1301252035&do=diff by Dan Long ago, before the Binding War, when the Ones We Do Not Name still roamed the earth and worked their will and served their purpose, the curse of age had yet to fall on the race of men. We were - do not misread me - mortal still. Subject to death, and to the silent lure of the Burned Place, but age did not sicken, the years did not weary, and sunlight reigned over all the lands of men. And in those days, the Burned Lords attended each death in person, for mankind was beloved by them. text/html 2011-04-03T22:34:17+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:rbride?rev=1301870057&do=diff by Matt H She tugs at the hem of her skirt and fiddles with her corset, and casts aside all the other problems to wish, just for a minute, that she’d found a job that let you wear more clothes. The wind is just slightly too sharp for comfort, and it’s started to drizzle. She cosies up to the corner of the building behind her, and silently curses the sky. The rain starts to bring out an odour of vegetables and excrement, but she doesn’t particularly notice. It always smells like that around he… text/html 2011-04-05T19:23:52+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:redandblack?rev=1302031432&do=diff by Helen Back in her quarters, she takes the armour off, piece by battered piece, wincing as each one reveals half-healed welts and new bruises. She feels tired. She feels old. What was it Doctor Holtz said? --another two decades, maybe three? She's been in the Broken Guard more than half her life, now. What will another fifteen years do to her? Will she be like Dominic Laird, crippled and missing an eye but still straight-backed and strong to the last? Or will she end up like one of those ve… text/html 2011-04-05T19:41:56+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:remembering?rev=1302032516&do=diff by Fed The sword is bloody. The adversary is there. There is a smell of sweat and antcipation. They are all watching. Can any of us feel the pain that is coming? I know Ambriel de Verlay. I knew Ambriel de Verlay. Ambriel Chermes. Captain. There are so many things I know, that I remember, and yet they are not what I know. That's the trouble with the mind, the way that the world works. You can always hang on to things, even if it will hurt less to let go. I think that's what makes us real, han… text/html 2011-04-03T22:31:39+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:rescue?rev=1301869899&do=diff by Helen ...again, Fisable. A voice - strangely familiar as she began to surface from the dark, haunted space behind her eyes - and then the lightning, pouring through her, searing and healing, melding chain back to bone and knitting twisted flesh. She gasped, coughed, pulling air into raw and bloodied lungs; tried to sit up. Her head was jerked back suddenly by the hair as she kneeled, swaying. Black silk and pale skin - Selena? No - then the hand was knocked away, and the shouting started. text/html 2011-04-05T19:26:59+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:resignation?rev=1302031619&do=diff by Joe Your Eminence, With regret I must announce my decision to resign from the position of Captain of the Low Guard. In recent months it has become increasingly clear that my personal feelings have severely compromised my ability to serve the interests of the City and your Government without hesitation. Having renounced my station as High Priest of the Hushed Princess I have lost many of the contacts and abilities that rendered me effective in the role. Most importantly however, the recent… text/html 2011-04-06T22:48:54+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:retirement?rev=1302130134&do=diff The warrior tidied the last of her belongings into a small box (she’d never been one for possessions so it hadn’t take long) and looked over her old room one last time. She hadn’t moved since she came to the white city all those years ago and the stone walls felt comforting and almost warm with the sun streaming in from the high window. She left a note on the box addressed to Finch Tyrell. He’d know what to do with it all. text/html 2011-04-05T19:43:01+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:rufus?rev=1302032581&do=diff by James W The screaming agony had settled down to a cold, hollow throb of pain that ached all the way up to Rufus's elbow. It was raining, which was dampening the makeshift bandages around his wrist. For a while he considered returning to the temple to recover the gang's camping equipment, but his survival instincts, born of years of banditry, told him that the possibility of encountering the vengeful Ash-warriors a second time wasn't worth the luxury of not sleeping under a hedge. text/html 2011-04-04T13:48:41+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:speakstillness?rev=1301924921&do=diff by Ellie Harriet ponders: How to call Brynna? Killed by giant beavers? No... She wouldn’t like that at all – best left forgotten; buried forever. Aspiring experimental alchemist? WAS, was... must get past tense right. Maybe not. Summoner of spirits from burnt lands followed by extreme subdual for crossing her in the mortal coil? (a reputation meaning the beavers are definitely better left forgotten). Bearer of Ashen roses, grey and white? Follower of a lost God? Trusted of a split temple? True… text/html 2011-03-31T21:19:05+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:statesecrets?rev=1301606345&do=diff by Helen W There's a light dusting of rain as they return to the White City. “You've betrayed state secrets. You've committed treason.” Lady Serafine to one side, Kratos to the other. Still vigilant in case of a last attack on the road. “We won't even bother to execute you. We'll tell the truth; you killed a God. We'll throw you to the Low Guard - they'll kill you for us.” text/html 2011-03-31T21:11:02+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:stepdown?rev=1301605862&do=diff by James F “Um, sir? Would you step down?” “Step down? Step down? Don't you see? This is the end! It’s all over! This noble faculty is ruined, doomed!” “But the Red Gryphon is defeated, sir! We don’t have to worry about their tabards any more! Never again will there be red tabards with red charges on to blazon! High Captain Matteus…” text/html 2011-04-04T13:48:56+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:tea?rev=1301924936&do=diff by Ellie “So what's the plan?” “Wait till some rich bugger comes past and then jump 'em. Nick their boots and leave 'em for dead.” “Just their boots?” “And their purses of course.” “Course... so, err... what if they're 'eavily armed?” “Well, so are we. We’ll take ‘em.” “Sure boss... hang on... here comes someone now. They do look rich... and very heavily armed... with pointy sticks...“ “Yeah...“ “White City Adventurers do you think?” “Quite possibly.” “Well trained?” “Most likely.” … text/html 2011-07-25T06:53:19+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:thomasday?rev=1311576799&do=diff Thomas looked up at the enormous mansion before him. The training had been long and hard, but at last he was ready to work for the Port of Glass embassy, the latest member of the Aster family to serve as a bodyguard for the nobility. He was somewhat excited to be at last fulfilling his main purpose in life, but briefly stopped to wonder why he had been invited to such a mansion very much above his station. Whilst he would be serving the embassy as a whole, he had apparently been assigned this fa… text/html 2011-03-31T21:03:28+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:ttales?rev=1301605408&do=diff by Julian In the village too small to have a name but large enough to have a small inn, it was traditional to ask travellers passing through for tales and news. When they stopped in the inn the innkeeper or whatever villagers happened to be in there would sit their guests down, get them a drink, and see what stories they could tell. text/html 2011-04-03T22:24:57+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:ulfandjen?rev=1301869497&do=diff by James F & Jenni It’s foggy, good weather to escape. I run through the slums, cutting down a side route, over a wall, and I’m into our turf. I won’t be followed. This is King Eric’s ground, neutral ground- for the whores, the muggers, the dealers, the hitmen, and us conmen. text/html 2011-04-05T19:47:06+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:unexpectedguest?rev=1302032826&do=diff by Vicky H Sasha frowned as the acolyte pulled the bloated swollen body from the recesses of the pit. It didn't matter how many times she tried to explain to her unwelcome visitors that her cult possessed no secret stash of treasure or priceless artefact statues, they just kept on coming back for more punishment. It was a surprise to most of these young adventurers that when they had fought their way past the seemingly endless tunnels full of snakes that instead of gold or rubies, all that was… text/html 2011-03-31T20:57:40+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:union?rev=1301605060&do=diff by James F Belric sits cross-legged in the chapel, deep in meditation. The hatch opens with a heavy thud, and the eyes scan the street anxiously. The nervous guard watches the figure appear out of the thick darkness of a night fog, come up to the door. The figure passes through his letter of invitation and the guard lets him in, directing him across the brightly lit courtyard to the mansion proper. text/html 2011-04-05T19:46:03+00:00 http://whitecity.chaosdeathfish.com/misc:fiction:valentine?rev=1302032763&do=diff by Vicky H Orlando Cristofori wandered through the streets of the White City his crushed velvet skirts swishing about his heels and his arm wrapped around his husband's, pulling his body close. The best part of a bottle of blushing champagne in his belly rushed up to his brain making him light-headed and a little capricious. He felt the airy bubbles rush through his head and allowed them to take hold and causing him to feel as if he were taking to the air on the cold, yet gentle, winter breeze…