WHERE WE ALL ARE (Update 13) Queen Spencer, Squire Max, Knight Captain Travis and Ana Duchess of Silverthorne have returned back to the Glen. But now its catchup time on what was happening in the Glen while the Zahira adventures were taking place. Queen Spencer 👸 @enchantedhottie 🏰 Castle Silverthorne Queen’s bedchamber, Briarwood Lord Protector Edgar 🫅 @TheEdgerPoe 🏕️ outside of Baldaran Trading Post, Briarwood Knight Captain Travis ⚔️ @TravisNei 🏰 Castle Silverthorne Ana’s Witching Den, Briarwood Sir Cameron ⚔️ @JenneCameron 🏜️ Zahira Palace royal guest bedchamber, Zahira Lady Ava of Briarwood Glen 👸 @FunAva007 🏰 Castle Silverthorne Noble Bedchamber, Briarwood Squire Max ⚔️ @AlvinMaxMaxwell 🏰 Castle Silverthorne Barracks, Briarwood Ana, Duchess of Silverthorne 👩🏻 @AnaDivincienzo 🏰 Castle Silverthorne Ana’s Witching Den, Briarwood Empress Kadi Kat 🧛‍♀️ @Tazi_dee 🏞️ Stonehoof’s Ranch, Briarwood Daniel 🤓 @danielthedadtn 🏞️ Stonehoof’s Ranch, Briarwood Mark the Dark Whisperer🥷 @jagsfan67 🏰 Castle Silverthorne store room, Briarwood Lady Maci 👩‍🦳 @EdgerPoe516859 🌳 eastern woods, Briarwood Investigator Sam 🕵️‍♂️ @WeHaveHope231 🏕️ outside of Baldaran Trading Post, Briarwood The Twin Sorcerers Taylor and Lily 👩🏻👩🏻 @TheTigreTwins 🏜️ Zahira Palace, Zahira Erica Vaelor of House Vaelor 👩‍🦳 🏰 Castle Silverthorne Noble Bedchamber, Briarwood Prince Leo of Zahira 🫅 🏜️ Zahira Palace, Zahira Jenny 👩🏻 @jennyDmond 🏞️ Stonehoof’s Ranch, Briarwood Andy 🧔‍♂️ @AndyKnightII 🛖Baldaran Trading Post, Briarwood Kristin 👩🏻 @kristin_md2b ❓not yet introduced Mia 👩‍🦱 @thonlymiamonroe ❓not yet introduced #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen

Castles and Halloween reminds me of you all @thonlymiamonroe @jennyDmond @TheEdgerPoe @EdgerPoe516859 @FunAva007 @kristin_md2b

Episode 9.2 Whispers From the Ranch Characters involved: Jenny, Daniel, Empress Kadi Kat Supporting: Midnight [NPC], teamsters [NPC] female commoner [NPC], draft horse [NPC], Midnight [NPC] They reached Middlerock before the hour was out, the road widening into packed earth and timber fronts, with tavern boards, tack shops, and the usual clutter of a place that lived off travellers and those who came hunting a taste of danger and adventure. Jenny still wore the stained farm clothes that had been her daily lot through the years of bondage at the ranch; dust clung to the seams and there was a dark smear at one cuff that would not pass for honest work. Daniel glanced at her as they drew in among the stalls and said, quietly, that she ought to find something cleaner—something that would serve the road ahead rather than the life she had just left. Kadi agreed at once and named a clothier a short way down the main street, the same shop from which she had lately taken her own gear. Jenny came to a halt, Kadi left Midnight at the rail, and the two women went in together, leaving Daniel in the street with the draft mare’s lead in his hand. He did not wait long before the talk found him. Two teamsters and a woman with a market basket stood near a water trough, voices low but not low enough. Word had come in from the east, they said: trouble at Stonehoof’s Ranch, Stonehoof’s old yards, an uprising among those who had been kept there. Some claimed the master and his men were dead; others swore the slaves had turned the place over and were already dividing stores and stock. Daniel kept his face still and stroked the mare’s neck as if the gossip were nothing to him, but the meaning settled quickly. If rumour was already walking the streets of Middlerock, questions would follow, and questions had a way of growing teeth. They would need to finish here and be gone before someone looked too hard at a stranger with a new draft horse and a girl who had, until yesterday, belonged to the Ranch. Inside the shop the air smelled of dyed wool, oil, and cedar. Jenny moved along the racks with a practical eye and chose a close-cut riding outfit in dark leather and soft linen—fitted enough for the saddle, clean enough for a harbour town, and a world apart from the torn farm dress she stepped out of behind a hanging screen. She dressed to one side of the narrow room, back half-turned, and the linen settled over her shoulders and waist as if it had been waiting for her. Kadi, who had walked the centuries with a hunter’s patience and a woman’s appetite, did not look away. She marked the line of Jenny’s spine, the sudden bareness of hip and thigh, the way the new leather closed over a body honed by labour and secret training rather than ease. Something old and unhurried stirred in her—not hunger of the blood, but the slower heat of wanting. When Jenny glanced up and caught that gaze, Kadi did not trouble to hide it; her mouth curved, faint and knowing, as if she had already decided that the girl who had put a sword through Stonehoof might be worth watching for more reasons than one #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

Week 7 Winners & Losers Accurate! @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

Episode 9.1 The Horsewoman of Middlerock Characters involved: Jenny, Daniel, Empress Kadi Kat Supporting: Midnight [NPC], slaves [NPC] Night settled over the boarded farmhouse in a hush that was almost gentle, yet Daniel could not quite trust it. He lay awake through the turning of the watches, listening to the pots and chains they had hung as alarms and measuring every creak of timber against the memory of Stonehoof’s trap. The house felt as secure as rope, planks, and grain sacks could make it, and still his mind kept circling the weaker points—the shutter that had not quite seated, the door that might give if enough weight struck it—until those worries slid sideways into another place entirely. He thought of his children on Earth, of ordinary rooms and ordinary mornings, of how far he had come from them and how little they would understand of being drawn into a cursed chest and waking inside the world that lived within it, or of a vampire healing in the dark. Across the inner room Kadi did not wander through memory. She lay still and catalogued her own body instead: the slow retreat of the burn in her lungs, the stubborn drag in her limbs, the way torn flesh knitted only by grudging degrees, each breath a reminder that garlic had stolen her speed and left her to reclaim it inch by inch. Jenny, wrapped in a borrowed blanket near the hearth, felt the day turn over inside her. Years of Stonehoof’s rule still sat in her bones like an old bruise, and freedom was so new she could not yet name what she wanted from it; even so, a quiet excitement kept rising, bright and restless, at the thought that the future was no longer something done to her. Morning came pale and ordinary. Jenny was first to rise. She unbarred the main door, let the cool air wash through the stuffy rooms, and crossed to Daniel to wake him with a light touch and a few low words. Kadi was already on her feet by then, colour back in her face and strength returned enough that she moved without needing a shoulder, though a faint tightness still lingered at the edges of her motions. Jenny had gone out at first light and hunted well. A pair of small animals hung ready for the pot so that she and Daniel might eat a proper breakfast, and another had been set aside for Kadi; by the time the house was opened that last creature had already given what was asked of it, and the vampire’s hunger no longer pulled so sharply at her. They ate without haste in the kitchen the former slaves had claimed the night before, the boarded windows now thrown wide, the farm no longer holding its breath. When the meal was done Jenny stood and spoke plainly to Kadi and Daniel. Her place was no longer here, she said; she would travel with them to Briarwood Glen Harbour. She promised the four freed people that she would return another day to raise the stables into a proper horse farm—one that bred fine stock and sold it openly as honest trade, until the name of the place was spoken with respect throughout Briarwood Glen. Then she wished them honest luck and the good use of the gold and land now theirs. They left soon after, Jenny astride a white horse taken from the stalls and Daniel leading the sturdy draft mare they had bought the day before, the two of them starting down the road toward Middlerock. Behind them Kadi swung onto Midnight and rode the dark mount as a horse, keeping easy pace at their backs as the farm, and the life Jenny had endured inside it, fell away behind the trees.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

Episode 8.14 Wiped Clean, Still Wet Characters involved: Mark the Dark Whisperer, servant [NPC] Supporting: From the shadows at the edge of the bathing hall, Mark watched Ana draw Max into her chamber. The door shut. She thanked him quietly for his steadfastness on the road, and they undressed one another. Their mouths met; his lips travelled her throat and breasts while his fingers slipped between her legs beneath the running water. The servant stood frozen until Ana ordered her to remain and watch, saying she would soon be needed to clean them both. Later, they lounged together in a large tub, still flushed from what they had shared, while attentive hands dried Ana’s curves, the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist, then wiped away the traces of their coupling from between her thighs and Max’s sensitive length. The girl’s own thighs had grown wet watching them, her nipples hard against her shift after cleaning both their bodies. Mark watched without any cheap sting of possession. What settled in him was colder: a loyal man’s quiet offence that Max had almost overnight become the favourite, and Ana had allowed it—after six months of Mark serving as her right hand. He slipped back into the corridor before the towels were finished, resentment following him like lingering steam, even as reluctant heat stirred low in his belly. They left separately. She emerged first with damp linen, still flushed and aching between her legs. Mark waited in the dark passage, as always, until a wet stone betrayed him with a scrape. She turned, surprise flashing across her face before her gaze dropped to the faint thickening at the front of his hose. For a moment she stared; then the lingering hunger of what she had just handled took hold. She stepped close, drew down her shift until one breast slipped free, and pressed his hand against it. “I have been in there washing them,” she whispered. “Wiping their bodies, their spend, every slick place they left on each other. I am still wet from it, and I cannot go back to the others like this.” Her other hand brushed the front of him, feeling him harden beneath her palm. He let her lead him to the little storeroom beside the bathing hall, where spare towels and empty ewers were kept. She shut the door; he barred it and shoved a heavy chest against the planks. She hiked her shift and guided his hand between her thighs, then freed him and stroked him until he was fully hard. He lifted her onto a low chest, spread her knees and entered her in one deep thrust that drew a gasp against his shoulder. Still aroused from the thirty or forty minutes of watching, she wrapped her legs around him and rocked to meet his increasingly urgent movements. The room filled with muffled moans and the creaking of wood. He climaxed inside her; she clenched around him and followed, trembling. They remained joined for a while, breathing against each other’s necks, before settling onto the piled linen. By morning, the household had not stirred. They woke tangled together on their makeshift bed of towels, her head on his chest and his arm around her waist, the barred door still keeping the rest of the castle at bay. #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

Note; this episode (and the previous) serves as a summary of castle events of tales that I have posted from Mark’s point of view: 1. The inclusion of the refurbishment of the Jester’s Dungeon into Ana’s Witching Den 2. Queen Ava seeing Lady Maci off on her first Quest in which she will be a fully pledged knight if she succeeds in recovering a battle standard (more about this adventure in the future) 3. The return of Ana, Duchess of Silverthorne and Squire Max back to Castle Silverthorne from their time in Zahira and Mark witnessing a heated bath moment between Ana and Max #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_phD

Episode 8.13 The Finished Den and the Unwelcome Favourite Characters involved: Mark the Dark Whisperer Supporting: Queen Ava, Ana Duchess of Silverthorne, Squire Max, Lady Maci, Sir Roland, [NPC], Lady Rosella [NPC], servant [NPC] Over the next two days Mark kept to the under-passages and watched the last of the jester’s clutter leave the chamber. What replaced it was no longer a workshop of oddments but a finished Witching Den: a great four-poster hung in dark purple, its posts bound with chains; a blackened cauldron breathing violet steam; shelves of bottles, books, and glass orbs; candles in iron branches; a painted circle and star let into the stone floor. By the second afternoon the room waited for Ana alone. From a high slit he later saw Maci leave the barracks with Sir Roland’s sealed parchment in hand, then return to her quarters to check straps, edge her blade, and pack hardtack, water, and rope. When she sought Queen Ava in the solar, Mark was already in the gallery shadow. Ava sat at chess with the elderly librarian; the farewell that followed was brief and heavy. Maci would ride at once for the north-eastern kingdom of Dalfholm, two days to reclaim a sacred battle standard from a rag-and-bone stall in Eldridge by coin, cunning, or steal. He followed the leave-taking as far as the gates. Ava, Roland, and Lady Rosella stood with a small honour guard while Maci’s horse pawed the cobbles. Roland called the old gods to speed her path. Rosella gave a nod of pride. Ava lifted a hand that held both sorrow and hope. Maci spurred forward, and the towers shrank behind her. Mark did not ride after her. He turned back into the castle and, before nightfall of that same stretch of days, caught the servants’ whisper that the Duchess of Silverthorne had returned. They said she had gone straight to the baths. He worked the long way around the stone, room to room, until the heat and the sound of water told him he had found the chambers. From the shadows at the edge of the bathing hall he saw the party divide. Ava was led to a private tub, a single woman pouring warm water and washing her with slow, lingering strokes until the queen’s skin flushed. Ana drew Max into her own chamber. The door shut. She thanked him in a low voice for his steadfastness on the road, and then they undressed one another. Their mouths met; his lips travelled her throat and breasts while his fingers slipped between her legs as the water ran over them. The servant stood frozen until Ana, without breaking the rhythm of their touch, ordered her to remain and watch, saying she would be needed soon enough to clean them both. Later they lounged together in one large tub, still flushed and slick from what they had just shared, while attentive hands worked thick towels over Ana’s curves, along the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist, then wiped the glistening traces of their coupling from between her thighs and from Max’s still-sensitive length. Mark watched it all and felt no cheap sting of possession. What settled in him was colder: a loyal man’s quiet offence that Max had stepped, almost overnight, into the place of favourite, and that Ana had let him. He eased back into the corridor before the towels were finished, the negativity following him like steam that would not lift #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

Surly as the script writer, you would feel you have failed your audience on this

Episode 8.12 The Jester’s Refurbishment and the Changing Banners Characters involved: Mark the Dark Whisperer Supporting: Queen Ava, Lady Maci, black mamba [NPC] Mark made his way back through Silverthorne after the company had gone south and slipped into Castle Silverthorne by a servant’s stair he had used before. The Jester’s Dungeon was no cell-block, but a low, crowded chamber of cupboards, potion shelves, a blackened cauldron, desks stacked with scrolls and books, and the narrow bed the old jester had once slept in. It smelled of dust, dried herbs, and cold iron fittings. He had not been inside half an hour when voices and boot-falls came down the passage. He pressed himself into the shadow behind a tall cupboard and watched. Masons, labourers, and two overseers filed in with tools, lanterns, and a rolled decree. Ava had ordered the room stripped and remade as Ana’s Witching Den, a surprise for the Duchess of Silverthorne when she returned. Mark stayed still and listened while they set about measuring walls and marking which desks and shelves would stay. The work did not go cleanly. Jim’s black mamba had made a home among the lower cupboards and the shadow of the cauldron, and the men spent a long, sweating stretch trying to pin it without being bitten. Nets snagged on scroll racks. A crate tipped against the bedframe. The snake slid behind potion bottles and along the floor until, at last, they drove it into a hessian bag and hauled it out. All the while Mark shifted from cupboard to desk-well to the hollow behind a stack of books, once so close to a mason’s lantern that the light passed over the place he had left only a breath before. He was never quite found. When the shouting faded and the first of the old fittings began to come away, he judged he had seen enough. He climbed back toward the upper halls as dusk settled in the stairwells. In the great passage Queen Ava had already begun the change: Spencer’s banners were coming down, fold by fold, and Ava’s own colours were being raised in their place. Maci stood a little apart, watching the cloth change hands, and in her face was the quiet decision she had put off for days—that Spencer would not return to this realm, and that the castle could no longer wait on a queen who had chosen another road. Mark lingered only long enough to take that in, then slipped away into the deeper corridors before anyone thought to look twice at the shadows #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

——————————————————- Episode 8.11 A Porter’s Hope and the Axle Characters involved: Andy, Mark the Dark Whisperer Supporting: Queen Ava, the dumb guards [NPC], Acting Knight Captain Roland [NPC], Passengers [NPC], Andy’s mother and father [NPC], clerks [NPC], yard hands [NPC] Andy gathered what little he owned from the lean-to behind the stables—his worn pack, a spare shirt, the knife his father had given him years ago—and walked the length of Balduran Trading Post one last time. He told the clerks and the yard-hands that he would not be returning, that the Lord Protector’s own hand had opened a road he had only ever dreamed of. Word reached his parents before he did. They stood together by the northern wagons, his mother pressing a wrapped loaf into his hands, his father clasping his shoulder without speaking at first. Both had worked the post beside him for many years; both looked at him now with the quiet sorrow of people who understood the leaving even as it hurt. They knew what the parchment meant. They knew the man who had stacked crates and led mules had always watched the knights ride past and pictured himself among them. When the two guards climbed onto the wagon and Andy took the reins, his parents stepped back and let him go. The wheels turned. Dust rose behind them as the track bent north toward Silverthorne. In the bed of the wagon sat the two dumb guards among sacks of grain and bolts of silk, squeezed in with two other passengers who had paid for the same northward ride. The stocky one gripped his polearm as if the road itself might attack; the tall, thin one stared about with the same startled look he wore in every courtyard. Somewhere among the grain a muffled report escaped the shorter guard. His companion clapped a gauntlet over his mouth and dissolved into helpless, high laughter more suited to a child than a man in crown-marked plate. The other two passengers shifted as far as the silk would allow. Andy kept his eyes on the road, the signed sheet folded against his chest, and let hope ride with him all the same. The trading post dwindled, then vanished among the trees. Ahead lay training, trial, and the distant chance of knighthood. He did not look back again. Recap: Hours earlier that same morning, before any of them had reached Balduran, the company of the Lord Protector had left Castle Silverthorne under a pale sky. Queen Ava and acting Knight Captain Roland stood on the steps and gave Edgar and his companions their blessing and their best wishes for the southern road, an unhappy moment for Ava as all her loved ones had left the castle. No Spencer, no Ana, and now her brother Edgar and someone who she was starting to cherish in Sam all leaving her. Unseen beneath the carriage, Mark the Dark Whisperer clung to the axle and the under-boards, a stowaway no one had noticed. Waiting for Ana, Duchess of Silverthorne, to return from Zahira had left him restless; curiosity and a stretch of idle hours had been enough to send him under the vehicle as it rolled out. Through the streets of the city the horses and the knights moved at a measured pace, and the gathered well-wishers lined the way. Midway through the crowd Mark’s certainty faltered. A long journey south suddenly seemed less wise than it had in the courtyard. He dropped away from the carriage without a sound, slipped among those who had come to see the company off, and vanished into the press of bodies as the procession continued on without him #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

Wow God does not exist 😮

Episode 8.10 Thoughts of Two Names in the Dark Characters involved: Lord Protector Edgar, Investigator Sam Supporting: Duchess Kat of Evermere [NPC], Sir Baldwin [NPC], knights [NPC], Fireball [NPC] As dusk deepened, the company set about making a modest camp among the rocks of the sheltered hollow. Tents rose in a tight ring, guy-lines pegged firm against the evening breeze, while the knights unbuckled and stacked their armour with the ease of men who had done the same a hundred times before. A few of them took buckets down the short path to a narrow river that ran just beyond the trees, returning with water for cooking and washing, and others slipped into the brush to hunt what they could find—hares and a pair of wood grouse for the pot. Edgar spoke quietly with Baldwin and arranged the sentry rotations for the night, then left the watch to the first pair. The rest gathered about a low campfire as the sun slipped behind the wooded rise; laughter rose with the sparks, voices easy and jolly, the day’s tensions loosening at last. Once Fireball had settled in the clearing after bringing down a young stag at the tree line, Edgar made certain the dragon was content and withdrew to his own tent. There he opened his journal and began to set down the first day’s events in a careful hand. Yet the words came slowly. His thoughts drifted back to Spencer and her decision to leave this realm. What had he missed? Had she gone because of something he had done? The questions circled as the ink dried. Then Maci came to mind as well—who had arrived just before Spencer left, who had been his before he ever met Spencer, and who had seen him freed from the curse, the one who would stand with him no matter the situation. He thought of them both as he closed the book, lay down, and let sleep take him. Outside, the fire burned lower and the last of the talk faded into the hush of the woods. Baldwin’s sentries paced the rim of the hollow with measured steps. Sam and Kat retired to their own tents. Lying in the dark, Sam’s mind drifted to Ava, now the current ruler of Briarwood Glen. Something tender had begun to grow between them, yet he kept reminding himself that the Ava of this world was a different person from the Ava of Earth. He lay uncertain whether to let what was forming with Queen Ava deepen, or to draw back before it went any further, and he began to consider if it was a possible betrayal of Ava on Earth, doppelgängers or not. The river murmured in the distance, the tents stood still, and the night closed quietly over them all.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

EPISODE 2.69 – THE GOBLIN’S RELIC (10.07.25) Squire Cameron’s boots echoed on the cold stone floor of the tower as he knelt beside the lifeless goblin. Beside him, Squire Max watched as Cameron opened the leather bag. Inside, the Crest of Aetherwind glimmered. The relic spoke of a greater power above—one that could turn flesh to stone. Trust or temptation—Cameron and Max must decide. #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD @Tazi_dee

Episode 8.9 Parchment at Balduran Characters involved: Andy the porter, Lord Protector Edgar, Investigator Sam, Duchess Kat of Evermere [NPC], Sir Baldwin [NPC] Supporting: knights [NPC], Fireball [NPC], the Two Dumb Guards [NPC] Edgar returned to Fireball on the wooded rise and spent a careful while scouting the quieter edges of Balduran Trading Post until he found a sheltered hollow among the rocks that would serve the company well for the night. Satisfied with the site, he left the dragon hidden once more and walked back toward the post itself to await the carriage’s arrival. The sun had sunk lower, casting long shadows across the dusty ground as he made his way back to the trading Post. The carriage rolled into view shortly afterward. Andy the porter, still packing the last crates, caught sight of Queen Spencer’s emblem on the vehicle and at once recognised it as the party the Lord Protector had spoken of; he stepped forward to introduce himself, only for Sir Baldwin and two knights to bar his path with drawn swords. Andy quickly apologised and explained that he had met the Lord Protector earlier, that they were acquaintances, and that two passengers were expected. Sam and Duchess Kat climbed out of the carriage with noticeable haste, clearly relieved to put distance between themselves and the two bewildered guards; Sam looked thoroughly annoyed. Baldwin, still unconvinced, ordered the porter to step well back and keep his distance. Edgar approached at that moment and informed Baldwin that Andy was the very porter who would be travelling north with the two guards to Silverthorne. He then went to the carriage, retrieved writing instruments and an official sheet of parchment, and in clear script set down his personal recommendation that Andy be accepted for training as a squire under the forces of Queen Ava, with the hope that the man might one day earn knighthood. Once the ink had dried he handed the signed parchment to Andy, directed the two dumb guards to accompany the porter to the waiting wagon, offered Andy his sincere best wishes for the journey and the path ahead, and finally guided Spencer’s carriage—Sam and Kat stepping quickly back inside—toward the sheltered hollow where the company would make camp for the night. #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

Will totally miss him 😢

EPISODE 2.68 – THROUGH THE DOPPELGÄNGER’S VEIL (08.07.25) The Stranger slips into Castle Silverthorne’s infirmary, where Queen Ava lies gravely ill. Overwhelmed by the sight of his friend’s doppelgänger, he is discovered by Sir Travis, a wounded knight who demands answers—and calls for the guards. #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD @Tazi_dee

This alone is the highlight this week! 😃

Episode 8.8 Bewildered guests in the carriage Characters involved: Investigator Sam, The two dumb guards [NPC], Duchess Kat of Evermere [NPC] Supporting: Lord Protector Edgar, Andy, Sir Baldwin [NPC], Fireball [NPC] Edgar lifted into the sky on Fireball’s broad back, the red dragon’s wings beating steadily as they rose above the southern road and turned toward the distant trading post. At the same moment the carriage door opened and the two bewildered guards clambered inside, the short stocky one and the tall thin one settling heavily onto the bench opposite Sam and Duchess Kat; Sam promptly shifted closer to Kat to make room. The wheels began to roll once more, and the odd pair attempted introductions only to realise neither could recall ever having been given a proper name. Sam offered his own name and presented the duchess with quiet formality; the tall guard immediately fixed his wide eyes on Kat and stared in open admiration until the stocky one gave him a sharp prod. Startled, the thin guard blurted, “You’re so pretty,” in a voice that cracked with embarrassment. Sam’s expression darkened at the remark while Kat merely raised one elegant eyebrow. Outside, Sir Baldwin and his knights rode at a measured pace along the road, the column now well past mid-afternoon and still several miles short of the trading post. The landscape had changed: the dense green forests that surrounded Castle Silverthorne lay behind them, replaced by open rocky ground dotted with only a few scattered trees. In the far distance the first pale haze of desert country shimmered under the lowering sun, though that barren stretch would not be reached until the following day. The journey remained uneventful, the only sounds the creak of harness and the soft clop of hooves on the stony path. Inside the carriage the tall guard suddenly puckered his lips and leaned forward in a clumsy request for a kiss. Kat’s hand flashed out and struck him firmly across the cheek; the stocky guard winced and quickly apologised, explaining that his companion sometimes forgot himself around pretty girls. Shortly afterward the carriage rolled into the outskirts of Balduran Trading Post and came to a halt not far from a laden wagon, where a sturdy porter was still packing the last of the boxes, already preparing for his own long journey north and the permanent leave-taking of the small post he had known for so many years #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @Tazi_Dee @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD

EPISODE 2.67 – THE VAMPIRE’S VANISHING (07.07.25) Kadi Kat arrives at Silverthorne Castle with a cure for Queen Ava, but a black mamba lingers near a mysterious chest in the courtyard. Curiosity overcomes caution. As she opens the lid, an unseen force pulls her inside, vanishing without a trace. The vial of elixir remains—untouched—and the mamba returns, coiling beside the chest as if it always knew. #TalesFromTheGlen #TheQueensDecree #KnightsOfTheGlen @enchantedhottie @JenneCameron @FunAva007 @TheEdgerPoe @AnaDivincienzo @AlvinMaxMaxwell @danielthedadtn @WeHaveHope231 @TheTigreTwins @jagsfan67 @EdgerPoe516859 @kristin_md2b @jennyDmond @thonlymiamonroe @AndyKnightII @Susan_B_PhD @Tazi_dee