SmilinKujo

Chapter 71: Lightning and Frost

As the group rode beneath the vast northern sky, Dorian pulled his cloak tighter, the crisp air carrying the scent of pine and frost. Regis trotted steadily beneath him, his feathered hooves barely making a sound against the dirt road.

Dorian glanced at Selyse. "So… when exactly are we ge...

Chapter 70: Farewells and New Melodies

Dorian and Selyse walked side by side, each carrying several bags filled with goods from their shopping trip. The streets of Tadon were still lively, despite the late afternoon glow beginning to settle over the city.

Selyse shifted one of her bags onto her other arm, glancing at Dorian with...

Chapter 69: A Tour of Tadon

Selyse walked away from the orphanage, her usual confident stride slightly slower, as if deep in thought. The lively chatter of the children faded behind her, replaced by the occasional bustling footsteps of the city streets.

A few paces behind, Dorian crept after her, trying his hardest to...

Chapter 68: The Bonds We Choose

The morning sun poured in through the wide windows of Tumblepouch Orphanage, casting a golden glow over the long wooden table where children of all ages sat, chattering between bites of their breakfast.

At the head of the table, the adults—Dorian, Bennett, Elira, Tache, Selyse, and Ralnor...

Chapter 67: A Different Kind of Home

The city nightlife of Tadon was vibrant. Music spilled from taverns, laughter echoed in the streets, and the scent of grilled meats and spiced ale filled the air.

Yet as they followed Bennett, the lively streets gave way to something quieter.

Tache glanced around, frowning. "You sure ...

Chapter 66: Shadows of Tadon

The cold morning air bit at their skin as the group rode along the winding northern road, their breath visible in the crisp dawn light. The sun had barely begun its ascent, painting the sky in hazy shades of gold and lavender.

Dorian rubbed his hands together, his fingers still stiff from s...

Chapter 65: Fireside Tales

Dorian stretched his arms over his head as he and Tache walked back toward the camp, the lingering heat of the hot spring still clinging to their skin. He flexed his fingers, rolled his shoulders, and even hopped lightly on his feet.

"Wow," Dorian muttered, almost in disbelief. "I feel ligh...

Chapter 64: The Bard and the Spring

Selyse strode out of the woods, her lance resting on her shoulder, looking pleased with herself. The fire from their camp flickered, casting long shadows over the clearing.

Tache, already poking at the fire with a stick, looked up. "Hey, where's the bard?"

Selyse smirked. "Behind me."...

Chapter 63: A Hunt and a Fiddle

The road stretched long and open before them as Dorian, the three knights, and Bennett rode past the gates of Brenhold. The wind carried the crisp scent of the northern wilds, and though the cold bit at their cheeks, the warmth of banter and laughter filled the air.

Dorian sat atop Regis, h...

Chapter 62: The Stubborn Mule and the Pendant's Mystery

Dorian felt the weight of the elf leaning against his back as Regis trotted through the streets of Brenhold. She was still dazed—whether from the shock of his magic or crashing into a trash can, Dorian wasn’t sure.

"Are we not going to talk?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

...

Chapter 61: A Familiar Face in the Cold

The morning air was crisp, a gentle veil of frost covering the cobbled streets of Brenhold as Dorian adjusted Regis’s saddle. The city, nestled deep into the northern regions, carried an atmosphere much colder than the previous towns, not just in weather, but in mood.

Bundled in thick coa...

Chapter 60: Arrival in Brenhold

The sky darkened as they approached Brenhold’s towering stone gates, the last glimmers of sunset fading behind the city walls. Torches flickered along the battlements, illuminating the cold iron portcullis that loomed above them.

Two gate guards, clad in thick gambeson and chainmail, stoo...

Chapter 59: Blades, Shields, and Song

The thundering of hooves shattered the chaos as Dorian and the three knights rushed into the fray.

A band of mixed-race brigands—a dragonborn with a massive battleaxe, a wiry halfling wielding twin daggers, a goliath clad in ragged iron armor, and several human cutthroats—had surrounded...

Chapter 58: The Knights Who Deserve a Song

The road to Brenhold stretched before them, winding through frost-tipped hills and dense forests, the winter air crisp against their faces. Dorian rode alongside Tache, his sling bag secured at his side, his lute strapped to his back, and Regis trotting steadily beneath him.

A thought had b...

Chapter 57: The Bag of Wonders and a Bard’s Experiment

The rhythmic sound of hooves against the dirt road filled the crisp northern air as Dorian and the three knights made their way toward Brenhold. Regis’ white mane shimmered in the morning sun, and Dorian couldn't resist running his fingers through it.

"You really adore that horse, huh?" T...

Chapter 56: A Bard’s Reward

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the grand estate of Viscount Halrik Vareth. Dorian stood at the foot of the stone steps, his lute catching the soft evening light as he secured it against his back. He had expected nothing more than a few words of gratitude for his performan...

Chapter 55: A Story for the Forgotten

The morning sun spilled through the small window of Dorian’s room at The Frosted Tankard, casting golden streaks across the wooden floorboards. Dorian stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and lazily rolled out of bed. He slipped into his usual attire—a crimson doublet and the ...

Chapter 54: Scars Beneath the Flame

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting long shadows across the rough-hewn walls of the inn. The scent of roasted meat and stale ale lingered in the air, mingling with the faint traces of smoke from earlier lamps. The common room had thinned out, leaving only Halrik, the three knights, an...

Chapter 53: The Weight of Words

Tension clung to the air like frost in the dead of winter. The street had grown deathly quiet, with only the labored breaths of the frightened mother and her two children filling the silence. Tache stood firm, his blades resting casually on his shoulders, but his stance radiated coiled aggression...

Chapter 52: Blades and Beliefs

The flickering glow of a single candle danced across the walls of Dorian’s modest room at The Frosted Tankard. His lute leaned lazily against the chair, while his journal lay open on the small wooden desk. He ran his fingers over the pendant resting on his chest, its crimson gem glinti...

Chapter 51: Hooves, Strings, and Echoes of the Past

As Dorian returned to camp, leading his newly bonded horse, the reactions were instant.

Tache whistled low, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “Oh my, that’s one beauty right there. Look at his feathering—it’s like silk kissed by northern snow.”

Ralnor, ever the man of few w...

Chapter 50: The Song of Hooves and Heartbeats

The first rays of dawn spilled lazily over the northern hills, casting golden streaks across the snowy clearing. Ralnor was the first to stir, blinking against the morning light. The faint scent of last night’s roasted boar still lingered in the cold air, teasing his senses with memories of fla...

Chapter 49: The Hunt and the Aurora Heart

The dense northern forest was painted in shades of twilight, a soft mixture of blues and grays creeping between the towering pines. Snow crunched faintly beneath Dorian’s boots as he walked beside Ralnor, the massive knight’s silent presence both comforting and slightly intimidating.

Do...

Chapter 48: The Herd of Aelwyn

The journey resumed under a sky brushed with streaks of orange and pink as the sun dipped toward the horizon. The blood of battle had dried, and the tense edges of adrenaline had dulled, leaving only the comforting rhythm of hooves against dirt and snow. Dorian rode with Selyse again, though he h...

Chapter 47: Silver Wolves and Crimson Notes

Morning light spilled across the northern wilderness as the group packed up their camp. The soft crunch of boots on frost-kissed grass mixed with the sound of Ralnor tightening the straps on his massive shield, while Selyse carefully inspected her lance. Tache was already mounted on his horse, a ...

Chapter 46: Of Mornings, Mockery, and Mountain Lakes

The soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds heralded the morning. The first rays of dawn filtered through the dense northern canopy, casting a cool, bluish light over the camp.

Dorian groggily opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight. The smell of dew-soaked earth fill...

Chapter 45: Apples, Myths, and Stranger Nights

The warmth of the campfire flickered between them, casting shadows across the clearing as Dorian approached the three knights.

“Well met,” he said with a roguish grin, strumming his lute softly before slinging it back over his shoulder. “I’m a wandering bard, curious about the world...

Chapter 44: A Bard’s Path of Stars and Shadows

The stars were vivid against the velvet sky, shimmering like scattered diamonds. The flickering glow of the hearth painted Dorian's face in soft, warm hues as he turned the spit slowly, roasting the single rabbit he’d managed to catch. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of just how unprepared h...

Chapter 43: A Bard’s Farewell to Svalen’s Hold

As Dorian made his way back to the inn, the glow of his performance still fresh in his heart, his attention was drawn to a lively vendor’s stall adorned with hats of every kind. Perched on a makeshift stand at the corner of a bustling lane, the small booth was run by a cheerful halfling woman, ...

Chapter 42: The Search and the Show

Back in the quiet of his room, Dorian sat cross-legged on the floor, his flute resting lightly in his hands. He focused on the delicate tendrils of wind magic he summoned, channeling them through the instrument. A soft, lilting tune filled the air, the notes light and serene.

The technique,...