Gawyon Tallmast, On The Winds



  • ..An unassuming journal..

    "...May you hear The Whisper on The Breeze and act with the Roar of The Gale..."


  • It began as a Whisper, a barely noticed change in the lightest of breezes. A Breath. As I looked out from the crow’s nest I marvelled at the perfect scene. The cool westerlies funnel around The Stormhorns Mountain Range moving cirrus clouds across Valkur’s Roar and out to the Dragonmere. The breeze grows stronger and the ensigns of the Blue Dragon ships begin to whip and flutter. Fishing trawlers with their signal bells clang as the boats rock in the wind and rolling seas. The wind is of an old wrong swept away. A wind of cleansing and then, as sudden as it came, the wind changes. The cool westerly gone, overwhelmed by an east travelling squall, and gathering cumulonimbus on the horizon. Wise fisherman and old sailors have no words and talk of the wind when they should listen. Yesterday I knew nothing. Today that Roar in my ears was a like a great fog of ignorance being blown away. Freedom. A Beginning. Salvation. Tilverton…Lady of the Winds…