Local colour

The summer evening seems to go on for ever, blending slowly into the summer dawn. As the sky reaches its deepest blue, the brightest stars and planets come into view, and the full moonlight outlines a few barred clouds low over the still waters of the Inner Sea. A few lights break the darkness of the hills and islands that seem to float in the clear blue of sky and sea. Far off, in the northern sky, a pale white wisp of smoke hangs over the horizon: a comet, or a sign.

Somewhere at the edge of hearing, notes are rising into the air: perhaps a bird calling across the straits, perhaps a flute playing somewhere on the hill or among the Stones. You can smell the dew on the thin grass, and perhaps a faint hint of woodsmoke. It is the time when one thing becomes another, a time when evening becomes dawn and sea and sky pull apart. Anything could happen at a time like this. Choices are made....

These are a series of pieces of "local colour" from the Numberless Islands: some of them are our own, most are translations of appropriate material from earlier times.

• On the campaign trail
  • Quotes from players
    The joys of character creation....
• Songs and legends
  • Faoiseamh
    Escaping to the western Islands.
  • Wizard's praise of the Garbh
    A river of Celidon Forest.
  • Sayings of the High One
    Wise advice from the one-eyed wanderer.
  • Keen is the wind
    A poetic commentary on the local weather.
  • Seynt Stevenes carol
    A seasonal legend.
• People of the Numberless Islands
  • Olwen's vision
    A priestess' initiation to the rites of the Triple Goddess.
  • "I do not at all like that city"
    What the Order of St. Patrick has to say on the city of Hedevik.
  • Sermon against the Sith
    Beware of heathen superstitions....
  • Bríd of the Hill
    Tales of wise women.
• Rather silly stuff
  • Cooking for the Uruk-hai
    A unique insight into underground cookery.
  • Doctor Pourges Direccons against the plague
    Your neighbours got the plague? Don't panic, apply as directed.
  • A Receipt to cure a Deafness
    Not suitable for vegetarians.

The last mug has been emptied, the last boast shouted, and the count of heroes has been filled. (More or less) a dozen brave ... er, people ... and true now stand outside the hall, shivering in the first rays of the rising sun as the beer starts to drain from their blood and they start to consider the cost of making good their boasts of the night before....

Welcome to the Numberless Islands.

This material is copyright © 1995-1999 Anna Mazzoldi and Laurence Cox.

The copyright on part of the material on these pages belongs to the players in the Numberless Islands campaign.

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