Berries & Ink/Issues/Berries-02-03

Publication: Berries & Ink

Volume: 02

Issue: 03

Issue Date: May 1, 2025

Contributors: Eruwyn, Dantia, Zehira, Shaylynne, Shaoimhe, Valynn, Kiyora, Crobin, Nawain, Ezathiel, Dasheek, Gragnel, Allye

Editor: Illiya

You tap a red-bordered parchment. A blob of berry-red wax is affixed to the parchment. It is imprinted with a plump strawberry nestled in a crown of delicate leaves. You gently open the folded parchment.

[~* Gnarled trees adorned with vibrant red strawberries and glossy black inkpots create a magical fairytale forest at the top of the page, the foliage framing the hand-lettered script: *~] Berries & Ink - Volume 2, Issue 3 [~* Editor's Note *~] We find ourselves in a curious interlude, a stillness where the echoes of past wonders linger while the anticipation of what comes next hangs in the air. The winds have calmed, the berries have been harvested, and for a heartbeat it's tempting to believe the skies might stay calm forever. But even the sweetest fruits hold a seed or two, and quiet days have a way of setting the stage for something more. The world has a habit of shaking the branches just when we start to get comfortable. So for now we wait -- minds open, ears tuned for whispers, and hearts quietly braced. This issue holds a little of everything: tales of risk and revelation, sharp turns, and slow-burning truths. Portraits that intrigue, circuses and new friends, questionable bakeries, important lessons, dangerous research, tasty threads, secret sisters, and journeys to Ratha... and other islands. We're especially delighted to welcome our newest contributor, Father Gragnel, whose bite-sized ode to duskberries is strangely fitting for this publication. As we wait -- for signs, for seasons, for stories yet to unfold -- may our minds be still, but never closed. We hope this issue offers you a spark, a sigh, or something to tuck away for later. Thank you, as always, for reading. Your curiosity keeps these pages alive. ~Warmly, Illiya [~* A heartfelt thank you to our generous sponsor for this issue: Sfek Vauns Arotru Pack - "Awoo!" *~] [~* Twin apple tree branches abloom with pale pink petals embrace the words "Guess Who? by Eruwyn Cholares" *~] Inks in hues of grey, black, and lurid sanguine create whorls across the page to encircle the slender figure of a pale Elf. Her bald head is encircled by a halo of bones, their jagged spikes holding stones surrounded by an aura of eerie blues and greens that give the impression of a glow against the gloom behind her. Her emerald eyes hold ominous, shadowy stains as they appear to gaze outward with a mischievous glint that matches the grin on her exquisitely sculpted face. Fitted perfectly to her form, a provocative gown corseted by a nacre-bone ribcage seems to swirl around her legs as though caught at the end of the turn. (Last issue's portrait: Saragos. Winner: Shaylynne. MAIL in your guess for this month! The winner will be revealed next issue.) [~* A winding dashed line spells "Dantia's Destinations" and ends in a bright red X *~] Off the rocky shores of Ratha, the ruined hull of the Seerah rests impaled on jagged coastal boulders, her rotted foremast a grim reminder of the ship's doomed final voyage. Amidst this brine-battered wreckage lies hidden treasure -- a bed of hungry fang oysters in the Roi Deck's brig cell. For those daring enough to brave its treacherous depths, rare pearls of various colors await! Reaching the oysters demands strong athleticism and swimming prowess, as coastal currents churn with merciless tidal strength. Once inside the brig, search the oysters to seize any uncovered pearls before their voracious maws snap shut. The risks are high, the currents unyielding, the oysters formidable. But, if you embrace the challenge, Ratha may bestow upon you lustrous riches from the briny deep. [~* What's in a Name? by Ershta Zehira Al'thor, Breaker of Chains of Velaka *~] Zehira, with her earnest pronouncements, had spun a web of lies so intricate that her deception had gone completely unnoticed -- lies that now manifested. And, radiating an aura of ancient malice that seemed to wither the very air and cast long, unnatural shadows, was the Lichlord Jeihrem. The mere whisper of his name, each sibilant syllable, echoed tales of his necromantic power that dwarfed the mundane struggles of life and death. Crossing, though, had not fallen, and to His isle she went. A rough voice like stone upon stone filled her mind: "Well done. You will come just outside of my throne room, and wait there. Pay no mind to the other one bleeding on the floor." A sharp, rending pain blossomed within her mind, blotting out everything. A rough voice like stone upon stone filled her mind, "Yes, that is precisely it. For this you shall be known as Ershta, The Theft of Knowledge." [~* Five Fun Facts About... The Sisters Of The Moonlit Lake, by Shaylynne *~] ~ They love tea, making tea, drinking tea, green tea, purple tea, black tea, fruity tea, did I mention they love tea? ~ The Sisters are quite the fortunetellers. Though methods vary by member, the primary practice is reading tea leaves from the bottom of an empty cup. ~ Their other favorite ritual activity is barefoot dancing around a bonfire. ~ There is a pig, named Daisy. She's an Honorary Sister and Coven Mascot. ~ Pyppa is their leader, if you are interested, seek her or any other Mother out. Sponsorship is required to join. [~* A whimsical array of tarts tumbling through a series of hoops adorns the words "The Tumbling Tart by Shaoimhe Bramblebairn" *~] As the circus tent silks hissed closed behind her, Mimi was taken by a wide-eyed awe. The chaotic world inside was HUGE (especially to a small Olvi!), and filled with people of all shapes and sizes. King-sized Kaldar tamed wild beasts, nimble Gnomes tinkered with mysterious contraptions, and high above - an elegant Elf walked across a tightrope. Mimi knew immediately she had to be a part of it. She flounced around, watching every act as they practiced and chatted, eager to join them. And then - oh, then! - she stumbled into the most colorful, captivating Human she'd ever seen. Mimi gawked up at the figure, who grinned back down at her. The *Ringmaster*! [~* Eat This, Not That by Valynn *~] As many are sadly aware, Doctor Dokt in Knife Clan has taken on a new business: baker. Here is where you sigh heavily and feel suitably depressed. I visited his bakery and, apologies dear Dokt -- not one of your best ideas. On the positive, the cookies are redolent with healing herbs and tempting to the eye. On the negative, a darkly browned specimen promised a sweet and buttery caramel symphony for my tongue but just delivered bleh. It was as if the very essence of indulgence had been politely excused from the premises. As for texture, well, forget the delicate crumb. Dense to the point I could imagine using it for an impromptu doorstop. With respect to Dokt, the bakery fulfills an important niche, promised healing delivered. But I ask you, does a cookie truly heal if it leaves your palate feeling vaguely mournful? The jury, much like the flavor in these cookies, is decidedly out. [~* Stars of the Earth with Kiyora: Orange *~] Volcano's heart citrine: A favorite among S'kra Mur artisans, this dark orange stone does not stay in its natural state for long. Once unearthed by those who dare to brave the volcanic rock of their origin, each gem is carefully cut to trap light within and reveal a core of blazing white haloe (skin-EW)d with the faintest touch of yellow. This expert faceting transforms the citrine into a brilliant display of fire and movement with a heart resembling molten lava. Often used to pay homage to the serpent god Ushnish and his sway over the destructive power of volcanos, it brings a dramatic elegance to its surroundings and is a fine addition to any collection. Those inclined to explore the orange spectrum may also enjoy the tropical Taisidon sunset garnet, the transparently luscious persimmon peridot, and the richly hued lava topaz. [~* The Adventures of Lavacano Gator, Ch. 13: Into the Dark Grove by Crobin Yuanfen *~] The whispers led him beyond the streets of the Crossing, down quiet paths until the city noise faded into birdsong and rustling leaves. Lavacano stepped into the Dark Grove, a tranquil haven where shadows moved softly and the air felt still. At the center stood a shrine to Damaris, its dark stone altar nestled beneath twisted trees. There, in silent prayer, was the Prydaen Cleric of Damaris -- Zynell. Lavacano hesitated. "Are you Zynell?" he asked. The Prydaen opened one eye, smiling gently. "That depends who's asking." "I'm Lavacano," he said. "I want to learn about the Immortals... and maybe find one who'll walk with someone like me." Zynell nodded slowly, motioning for him to sit. "Then you've come to the right place." [~* Wisdom of the Pack - Lessons of the Hunt by Nawain Augtaire *~] Once we watched a hawk circle lazily, while a swallow skimmed the surface of a pond to catch a dragonfly. As the hawk prepared to dive, my father covered my eyes and asked, "Who eats today?" "The hawk," I answered. "It has better position, which means it has better speed." "Close. Watch." He dropped his hands and we watched the scene unfold. The swallow maneuvered expertly, a hair's breadth from the surface of the pond as its prey zigged and danced. Without warning, the whip-fast tongue of a warty toad pulled the dragonfly into its gaping mouth. The swallow veered towards the reeds, but the hawk adjusted its trajectory and took the smaller bird in a puff of feathers. My father let me internalize the moment before asking, "What are three lessons you take from this?" I counted on my fingers. "Always consider the full picture before predicting outcomes. Don't focus so much on disappointments that you miss what comes next." I hesitated, and he tapped my nose with a grin. "How about 'Plan your escape carefully.' Or 'Sometimes danger compounds faster than our ability to outrun it.'" [~* Shade and Water: Desert Desires by Ezathiel Karanea *~] (inspired by the words uttered by Traim after his return from the desert dunes) In endless dunes where sunrays gleam, The desert dreams a distant stream. A whispering hope, a longing deep, For shade to grant a moment's sleep. The parched earth cracks, the cacti sigh, Beneath a ruthless, burning sky. Yet in mirage, the waters gleam, A fleeting ghost of wistful dream. A single tree with branches wide, Where weary travelers seek to hide, Its roots still yearn, its leaves still pray, For rain to kiss the dust away. Oh, let the heavens break and weep, Let rivers dance, let shadows creep. For in the heart of endless sand, Shade and water - life's demand. [~* Confluence of Power: A Thought Experiment in Warrior Mage Synergies by Dasheek Ku'Rein *~] Nearly two decades ago, this author had a single idea (an event rare enough to document) regarding spell convergence. Upon proposing it, the response from senior practitioners was swift and unanimous: "That's dangerous." Well, of course it is. "Danger" is a subjective term, typically defined by volume of screaming or size of resulting crater. Yet, many magical breakthroughs have emerged precisely from this grey area of reckless optimism. Should we be deterred by the risk of annihilation? Possibly. But should we be paralyzed by it? Certainly not. What happens when a group of mages casts Aegis of Granite in perfect synchrony? Do they stack into a harmonious Shield Sandwich, an impenetrable dome of magical overcompensation? Do they rebound, fossilizing local squirrels in recursive granite loops? Or, gods forbid, does the spell simply work as intended? Progress requires risk. Art demands spectacle. And sometimes, research means triggering mild earthquakes on purpose. Cast dangerously. [~* Ode to Dusk Berries, Verse One by Father Gragnel *~] From where did such a lovely thing come from. Supple and sweet, like an intoxicating treat. Little round bursts of pleasure ripening in the sun. Eat them by the ones or eat them by the twos. For, once you are done, it will be time for a snooze. [~* A mirrored pair of swans gracefully flank the words "Fashion Alley with Allye: Fine Fashion Meets Feast" ~*] From banquet halls in gilded keeps to the open-air feasts of village festivals, this season's fashion is taking its cue from the table. Gowns in rich berry tones echo taffelberry glazes, while velvet overlays call to mind the lush drape of roasted fig sauces. Even accessories nod to the culinary: belts tooled like bread braids, and jewelry set with bright fruit-themed gems. In the future, perhaps chefs and stylists alike will collaborate on seasonal pairings, where saffron-laced cloaks will debut alongside golden honey-stewed partridge, fit for procession and plate alike. In this world, you are what you eat... and what you wear to eat it! [~* Thank you for reading! Look out for more juicy bites in the next issue! *~]