Ian Hambly
Bio
Older British male. Interests include TTRPGs and board games, history (esp. British or military), casual runner and hiker, reading sci-fi and fantasy fiction. Studying law degree in spare time. PS Picture is of RPG character, not me!
Stories (6)
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Belle Chance
The green stalk slowly sprang back upright. Although dented somewhat, it had survived the onslaught of the soldier’s boot. The soldier deliberately made slow progress towards the mangled wire fence, so as to not to register as movement from the distant automatic motion detectors sited along the roads. Stopping, she lazily looked behind herself and saw a trail of slowly rising grass behind, leading down to the river now partially hidden by the early morning fog amongst the trees.
By Ian Hambly4 years ago in Fiction
Necklace of Memories (4)
Emrys, an Investigator, saw the raven leave the town and glide lazily upriver towards the hills, as the valley was beginning to brighten as the sun rose from the sea. His sharp eyes noticed the silver ring on its rooks leg, denoting it was a Brandweud,one of the noble magical messengers. The elf then turned his gaze towards the town nestled by the river at the bottom of the hill, which was in the demesne of Lord Lennox. Speaking aloud to his mute companion behind him he said “I wonder what self serving machination that bird is being sent on now?” Emrys turned to gaze at the cold figure behind him. Tanwen, an investigators bodyguard called a Beddmilwr, was an undead former investigator. She had rested her long axe called a bardiche against a snow laden pine, as Emrys regarded her with a quiet despair. She had been his bodyguard for nearly twenty years now, blandly obeying his gentle instructions all those years. “Come, let's at least get a warm cup of mead and a warm night's sleep indoors at the Dolphin Inn“ said Emrys, stamping the snow from his boots.
By Ian Hambly4 years ago in Fiction
Necklace of Memories (3)
The booth was situated on the town side of the river, and a hammered metal sign was nailed into the brickwork on the farside. It stated ‘Manned by Troll Bridge Guardian from dusk til dawn. By the order of Lord Lennox, 901 AD.’ Lord Lennox’s sigil of a blue dolphin was stamped at the bottom of the sign. Approaching the bridge was a coach pulled by bulls with three crew on the coach, two upfront, one at the back. A crest of two picks crossed over three rocks was painted on the carriage doors. Behind the coach were six men, obviously slaves, carrying a shroud clad figure on their shoulders. They shivered as they jogged through the light snow flurry. A raven screamed as it flew high above the coach and descended into the town, its silver band on its leg glinting in the half moonlight.
By Ian Hambly4 years ago in Fiction
Necklace of Memories (2)
As a purple haze slowly faded I saw a middle aged human female. She looked distorted through the thick glass of the kitchen window. She blurrily finished crimping spider pies and placed them in an oven box suspended over the kitchen fire. After closing the iron door with a burnt cloth, she sat down on a fresh pine stool by the gently popping fire. She looked up directly into my eyes as I stepped forward and eased the door open. Snow blew in swirling quickly before skidding onto the stone flagons as if they had suddenly discovered gravity. Her brown eyes widened in recognition and a smile rapidly dominated her face “Oh, Kendrick, I have been waiting for days. Grandmother said you would be here before the midwinter feast tomorrow, but, oh, Kendrick, I am so happy to see you”. She leapt up and embraced me, both of us failing to hold tears back. I had to hold back my joy to avoid being overwhelmed at holding my sister for the first time in five years as the purple haze came swirling back.
By Ian Hambly5 years ago in Fiction
Necklace of memories (1)
Emrys squeezed his long elven ear lobe and stretched it until he felt a barely audible pop. He grimaced at the released pressure as he studied the body strewn across the hay bale. The wind was ruffling the thin man’s poor linen clothes, a surprise considering the snow outside had been falling lightly for 2 days now. Flakes were drifting into the dilapidated open walled barn, as Emrys knelt to get a closer look. The clothes were faded, frayed and recently torn. “Who found him?” Emrys asked the only other living soul in the barn. Tevis, a short statured human, jumped slightly, brought out of his reverie. “Um, my brother Jaimi this morning. He thinks he might have been here for a couple of days, Sire.” Emrys looked sharply at Tevis “Don’t call me Sire, I work for a living. Call me Investigator”. Tevis nodded and looked away from the one blue and one green eye admonishing him.
By Ian Hambly5 years ago in Fiction
Aethelwulf
Aethelwulf by Ian Hambly The silvered spear was stuck. Stuck deep in the collarbone. There would be no way of getting it free in time, so Aethelwulf left it there. Instead, he grabbed the knife from the belt of man he had just killed. His name had been Gladwyne, and was known as a fine singer, but a poor soldier. Most of the conscripts were indifferent soldiers, just smiling farm boys dragged hastily upon the summons of King Ecgbert to the Fyrd, the militia.
By Ian Hambly5 years ago in Horror
