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An absent-minded man of mysteries, Franz Lohner relies on his bulging journal to keep track of occurrences, intrigues and arguments around Taal's Horn Keep. Sometimes his notes are even useful, believe it or not. The Franz Lohner Chronicles are extracts from that journal.
FRANZ LOHNER’S CHRONICLE – THE WOLVES OF WINTER Well, if the icy wind and brooding skies weren’t enough of a clue, Mondstille’s upon us, and the end of the year close behind. Of course, some say the end of the world’s looming as well, but they always do around this time. Something about being forced to spend more time with their families, I reckon. Never understood it myself.
We’ve had a sizeable pack of wolves take up residence on the mountainside south of the keep. I tell you, I’ve heard a lot and seen more, but their howls still send a shiver along my spine. Right nasty bunch these wolves are too, with a scar-faced leader who looks like he’s got a nasty bit of cleverness hiding in his noggin. One of Ulric’s own, I shouldn’t imagine. If ever there was a god who liked reminding everyone that he’s the big cheese, it’s Ulric, and he probably reckons we’ve been getting a bit uppity of late.
After the lurking lupines (as distinct to lupins, which are no bother to anyone, really) ate that messenger boy … poor lad … our old Kruber decided to resurrect an old Mondstille tradition. He’s been hunting ‘em down, skinning ‘em and nailing their pelts to fence, beam and signpost to warn off the survivors, and to let old Ulric know that we’re not about to let his furry children take liberties around Taal’s Horn Keep, thank you very much.
Never seen Kruber so happy, if I’m honest. I think it’s something to do with the fact that, for once, he’s not engaged in a life or death struggle with something unbelievably ghastly. It’s just man versus nature, and man’s bloody to the elbows. Then again, I’d be a bit cheerier myself if Kruber hadn’t taken to wearing the spare pelts and living out in the wilds. Worse, he keeps giving the wolf meat to Bardin, and we all remember ‘Stewed Fox Surprise’ well enough to know how that’s going to play out.
Still, I think the end’s in sight. Scar-Face is about the only wolf left now, and Kerillian’s insisted on joining the hunt to – and I quote – ‘put the lumbering brute out of his misery once and for all’.
I don’t think she means Kruber, but I’ve learned it’s best not to make assumptions where our elf is concerned. I might ask Sienna to tag along, just for safety.
FRANZ LOHNER’S CHRONICLE – THE WOLVES OF WINTER Well, if the icy wind and brooding skies weren’t enough of a clue, Mondstille’s upon us, and the end of the year close behind. Of course, some say the end of the world’s looming as well, but they always do around this time. Something about being forced to spend more time with their families, I reckon. Never understood it myself.
We’ve had a sizeable pack of wolves take up residence on the mountainside south of the keep. I tell you, I’ve heard a lot and seen more, but their howls still send a shiver along my spine. Right nasty bunch these wolves are too, with a scar-faced leader who looks like he’s got a nasty bit of cleverness hiding in his noggin. One of Ulric’s own, I shouldn’t imagine. If ever there was a god who liked reminding everyone that he’s the big cheese, it’s Ulric, and he probably reckons we’ve been getting a bit uppity of late.
After the lurking lupines (as distinct to lupins, which are no bother to anyone, really) ate that messenger boy … poor lad … our old Kruber decided to resurrect an old Mondstille tradition. He’s been hunting ‘em down, skinning ‘em and nailing their pelts to fence, beam and signpost to warn off the survivors, and to let old Ulric know that we’re not about to let his furry children take liberties around Taal’s Horn Keep, thank you very much.
Never seen Kruber so happy, if I’m honest. I think it’s something to do with the fact that, for once, he’s not engaged in a life or death struggle with something unbelievably ghastly. It’s just man versus nature, and man’s bloody to the elbows. Then again, I’d be a bit cheerier myself if Kruber hadn’t taken to wearing the spare pelts and living out in the wilds. Worse, he keeps giving the wolf meat to Bardin, and we all remember ‘Stewed Fox Surprise’ well enough to know how that’s going to play out.
Still, I think the end’s in sight. Scar-Face is about the only wolf left now, and Kerillian’s insisted on joining the hunt to – and I quote – ‘put the lumbering brute out of his misery once and for all’.
I don’t think she means Kruber, but I’ve learned it’s best not to make assumptions where our elf is concerned. I might ask Sienna to tag along, just for safety.