http://www.swordandportent.comA Fantasy and Horror Zineen_GB60http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rssSword and Portenthttp://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/beard-the-immortal-resurrectionWelcome to Sword and Portent! A fantasy and horror zine by C.M. Galdre and F. Charles Murdock! Come. Stay a while and listen.Sun, 02 Mar 2014 22:53:58 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-birth-of-the-beardlingIn the far north, beyond the grand cities of Torin and Pela, beyond the lands of the Guahadine steppe tribes, beyond the slick black stones of Turin’s wall, in the coldest regions of the wild northland, lies the ancient barbarian land of Thorgithe, birthplace of Beard the ImmortalSun, 02 Mar 2014 22:57:01 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-slaying-of-daemonsLong before the day death shunned him, Beard was a modest child like any other, save that his station afforded him the crest of Thorgithe knowledge. From his father, King Bergrin the Knowing, and his father’s advisor, Brōg the Unknown, Beard learned the ways of the sword. To be king one day meant carrying a heavy blade and Bergrin was quick to teach his young son this lesson.Sun, 09 Mar 2014 20:34:31 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-unnamed-the-unknownThe sword was ancient, tempered over generations, a project demanding the skills of a hundred hands, their owners having long since died in battle as all honorable warriors are wont to do. The name of the blade, too, had died on countless fields of blood, having unwound the cycles of innumerable fell beasts. Menfolk had fallen in its wake too, of course, but never without reason: if anything, its master was a man of logic.Mon, 17 Mar 2014 04:30:40 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/beard-the-king-killerLong before fate beckoned his footfalls, Beard was but a boy of few words, having proven himself in deed at Blēstdemnare, the lair of daemons. There he’d earned warriorship and a place at his father’s table. Now formal celebration was in order for Beard, though his enthusiasm for such pomp had been stripped away in that damnable cavern.Mon, 24 Mar 2014 07:09:39 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/drums-in-the-nightTurin’s Wall is long and wide, built by giants full of pride. No sword can sunder, no siege engine bite, none can fell cold Turin’s might. From east to west it rises tall, with buttress high, the ancient wall, but in eastern wood in darkest glade, a hole was bore where shaman bayed and whispered darkly, words unmade. Rhyme of the Eastwood (123-127)Sun, 30 Mar 2014 18:40:03 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-grim-artIt was cold and dark within the depths of the ancient cave Blēstdemnare, the air thick with icy mist, a foul miasma hanging over the frozen corpses of countless daemons. Though dead for thirteen days, they still steamed as the ice worked its way down to their massive cores, cracking and splitting the flesh, revealing the moist organs beneath. A malevolent laugh split the silence of the dead, a sharp, metallic laugh like the bellow of an anvil as it resists the hammers strike. The dead were not alone.Mon, 07 Apr 2014 00:02:10 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/chasing-army“Ah, yes, Turin’s Wall, yes. I’ve seen it, I have. Tasted its construction, y’see. Most peculiar it is, yes. No sustenance to be found in them stones, let me tell you. Black as they are. Yes, not t’all.” -Bisbane the UnstableMon, 14 Apr 2014 04:31:26 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/buildars-gateBeard licked his chapped and wind burned lips. It’d been two weeks since he’d arrived at the vast plains that lay before the city on the wall, Buildar’s Gate. Much had changed since he’d visited as a boy, much had changed in the weeks since his unjust banishment from his fathers for a crime he did not commit. Sun, 27 Apr 2014 22:50:50 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-order-of-the-red-handThe air was stale and heavy; it smelled of vomit, blood, sawdust and drink. Beard straddled the bench like a king riding his horse into battle, a mug of ale in one hand, his shield, the massive leg of a gossfowl cooked to crisp skin, his sword, in the other. He had come to the small mountain village of Himgal following the legend of a stone sword, keen, and if the legends were true, indestructible.Mon, 05 May 2014 03:43:12 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-tattered-edgeBraxia stood at the window of her room in the Bard and Barter Inn. It was a cool, sweet summer night and the breeze held the scent of tall grass and meadow flowers. The night air was filled with the sounds of the legendary Cinthian cicadas.Mon, 26 May 2014 06:55:10 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-song-of-sevenHold sword-bearers, keen thy ears and halt thy breath Hear the wolf-written song of sevenTue, 03 Jun 2014 07:51:28 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/whisper-in-the-darkEvery child in the small cropping village of Kōstof had heard this whisper, had been ensnared by it while they slept in their humble beds. Dreams were rare in this part of Krytherion -- “central Southron,” the locals called it. This night, though, had brought with it not a single dream to a single child, but an grand dream shared between every child at once, as though not a door had been opened to the Dream Realm, but a flood gate.Mon, 09 Jun 2014 05:08:52 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-outlanderTwo rooks in flight, one black and one white, each striving to dominate the other with might. But keen eye and keen beak bring swift victory to the strongest of them with clear strategy.Mon, 16 Jun 2014 17:26:48 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-dark-wandererThough Beard hadn’t wanted to raise the Tattered Edge to a child of Kōstof, he’d known it was a possibility ever since he’d heard a daemon had taken the children. Daemons were merciless and cowardly, after all, and saw nothing wrong with using an innocent child as a shield... or a weapon. The boy standing before the warrior now was perhaps both, his tiny eyes drained of all but blackness, the scowl on his face grotesque and cruel. The youth returned Beard’s hard glare, his head cocked to the side, the children behind him screaming to be released from darkness both external and within.Mon, 23 Jun 2014 06:58:19 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/a-dream-of-death-or-death-of-a-dream“If the land is allowed to fall into ruin, the whole of the Inner World will fall as well,” a voice came to Beard within the darkness. The voice was familiar with its inherent authority and warm tone, almost like that of his late father, Bergrin. “All will perish and the Great Evil will rule these tainted lands.” Where had Beard heard these grave words?Sun, 29 Jun 2014 19:46:24 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/a-dream-in-crimson“OOOF!” said a small nasally voice. “What the heck is that doing here?” asked another. “Ewww gross! Don’t touch it! It’s, like, totally corporeal, man!” said the first. “I am just going to set it right, don’t worry. We can’t have this thing lumbering around with all that solid flesh can we?” said the second. “I suppose you’re right.” “I suppose I am.”Tue, 08 Jul 2014 01:11:59 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/what-realms-may-comeThe darkness here is just that -- the absence of light. That impenetrable blackness is in truth a deep blue, which in turn is a clear azure like the sky at daybreak during the Winter Solstice. One needs only to pierce this hidden world with his mind’s eye, to draw back the curtain with will alone, to see the secrets at its heart. Courage is a vigilant guide like a lantern of purest white light. But what one sees here, he can never forget.Sun, 13 Jul 2014 23:26:22 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-pipes-betweenBeard fell into darkness. The last thing he remembered was jumping through the portal made by the cyclopean twins, Fate and Destiny, in their castle Or’i. He had seen Släfgeit through the portal and had felt himself moving back into the Dream Realm, but that all ended with a resounding CLANK! And now he found himself tumbling through cold, black void. Occasionally, he felt the breeze off an unseen object against his skin as it went whirring by in the dark. Every instinct in Beard’s body told him to pull his limbs close and hold his body rigid as not to collide with whatever things may be around him.Wed, 23 Jul 2014 17:56:27 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/shattered-dreamsThe crew of the Perilous Wench were a tad upset. It was not that long ago when they were living the good life, drinking and whoring in the fine city of Southport. Such was their reward after a few honest high-seas adventures and a few not-so-honest. They preferred the term “privateer,” but seeing as they weren’t always hired by one government to rob another and instead just robbed any old ship from time to time, it wasn’t entirely accurate. However, they did take the odd job on the up-and-up and their current one was supposed to be just such a venture.Mon, 28 Jul 2014 06:55:03 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-battle-of-bladesBeard gripped the hilt of the Tattered Edge with grim determination. He knew that one day he would have to be free of it, he had seen its shadowy power that betrayed its powerful magik, but for now he needed its strength for before him stood a creature of myth and nightmare.Sun, 03 Aug 2014 22:48:02 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/braid-the-immortal-the-birth-of-the-braidling-and-the-slaying-of-daemonsTime is a funny thing in the world of Beard the Immortal, cyclical, endless, and frought with branches twisted and tainted by the magics of the world. There are many universes in which a hero rose from the northern tribes of Thorgithe, many paths that were walked as only they could walk them. This is one such universe, the universe of Braid the Immortal.Mon, 18 Aug 2014 01:33:35 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/in-a-span-of-six-moonsHail, traveler! Are we still well met? I hope to the gods we are because life has grown dark in Krytherion these last six moons. Aye, you heard me and my word is sound: nearly a half-cycle has passed since we last told tale. Much has happened in that time, true, but not to Beard Weirheowdth, no. Why, you ask? Did you not hear of the hell he caught when the warrior finally squared off against the Isenshrike? Beard’s only now recovering -- truth be told, though, he should be far-flung into the Great Beyond after such a gruesome battle.Sun, 07 Sep 2014 20:13:36 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/a-fathers-loveBeard lay still upon the rocky shore, his life blood seeping from the gaping wounds that riddled his broken body. The earth beneath him was sodden with crimson blood and the gulls dined on his regenerating entrails. How has it come to this?Mon, 22 Sep 2014 21:27:14 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/of-wolf-and-manling*Upon tumbling waves, under dark storm’s rage, his lover’s hand keeps his death at bay. And though he be lost on both crest and trough, her enchanted sp’rite shall guide his way, made blue through the sacrifice she had made.* -from *The Legend of the Blue Sp’rite*, set to rhyme by Elrik the TellerTue, 30 Sep 2014 06:54:09 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-keys-of-shadowThe wind howled in a vicious gale, Captain Dashir had counted on the storm, poor weather was the marauders greatest ally. His ship had made a quiet approach, cutting through the wind like a knifefish darting through a shifting shoal. The bow of the Satrian Falx was sleek and cleverly curved, it sliced through waves as easily as its namesake sliced through flesh, and the ocean spilled its entrails before it. The black planks of ebonwood gleamed like polished steel in the sun, but on a night such as this, with a storm brewing all around, it was dark as a shifting shadow and became one with the rolling waves to even the keenest of eyes.Tue, 07 Oct 2014 01:16:05 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-black-doorIf you’d permit me, dear traveler, a short break from Beard’s journey into the Southern Isles, I’d like to speak of something that happened to the warrior before he stepped onto the bridge of that strange wyrmship, Satrian Falx, and into the role of its captain. I will be brief, aye, but I feel this little side-path is worth leading you down for the queer events that took place thereon have long-reaching effects. And it all started with the Black Door.Sun, 12 Oct 2014 21:30:04 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/dark-eye-of-the-moonBeard stood upon the prow of the warship Satrian Falx, his long coal beard blowing in the sea air. It had been far too long since the warrior had felt this kind of freedom, not since his days spent roaming the frozen tundra of Thorgithe, his home. Despite the warm temperatures of the South Eastersea it reminded him of his birthland, the waves rolling on like the endless snow, the driving wind ever at his back, and before him infinite horizons. Mon, 20 Oct 2014 07:51:28 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-isle-of-begNothing can change what the heart contains.These words passed through Beard's troubled mind as he slumped forward on the edge of the rickety ironwood bunk in his quarters. The room had been home to countless men, many of them vicious it could be supposed, who had once played the temporary role of captain to *Satrian Falx*, the monstrous wyrmship of the Southern Isles. Now as Beard took up the role, he couldn't help but think of all those men who'd traded their lives for brief collaboration with the ship, but such thoughts were swiftly swept away by the words that’d been pressing upon his mind since he'd last heard them three nights prior.Mon, 27 Oct 2014 07:38:53 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/what-lies-at-the-heartNothing can change what the heart contains. Words spoken by the warriors love upon their last meeting, too brief to grant him the solace and rest he desperately needed. She had been just a shimmering image awoken briefly from her long sleep within the Dreaming City, long enough to aid Beard in his adventures, but never long enough to aid his troubled heart. His brain pulsed with the sound of drums beating in the night, their dull rumble, their frantic crescendos, their maddening repetition. He had heard these drums before, in the cursed forest near his home, the maddening heartbeat of the Eastwood.Tue, 04 Nov 2014 02:35:29 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/podcast-the-birth-of-the-beardlingMon, 10 Nov 2014 08:29:01 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/untying-the-naughtBeard awoke in a cold sweat, his throat raw from screaming, his body a vessel of pain from his second battle with the Eastwood spawn. Four days he'd been in this condition, his mind possessed by those maddening words and their implications, his body a vast landscape of injury and agony. He'd awoken only once before and had stayed conscious long enough to summon his first mate, Crabs, to ensure that the wyrmship, *Satrian Falx* was on the prescribed easterly course. Then he'd slipped back into the void between slumber and death, that cryptic message finding him even there at the heart of nothingness.Sun, 23 Nov 2014 23:22:39 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/bonds-of-bloodBeard sat within the belly of the Satrian Falx, his ship by right of conquest and blood, a sentient creature created before the Rising of the Wall. The emptiness of the warriors shell consumed him, the blade that had been his curse and his companion torn from him by a shifting creature of the Naughtrealm. The *Tattered Edge*, the blade of the first revenant, was gone and so was its bittersweet hold upon him.Mon, 01 Dec 2014 02:22:52 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/a-shyft-in-powerBeard stood upon the prow of a sleek black ship, one hand grasping the rigging, the other shading his eyes against the blazing sun of the Eastersea. A half butchered mursvik shark lay across the deck behind him, its thick red blood spilling over the side. It had been three weeks since he had eaten so well, three weeks since he had left his crew on an abandoned ship and set out on on the wyrmship Satrian Falx.Mon, 15 Dec 2014 01:05:19 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/profits-of-the-prophetsThe woman’s face, usually stern but rosy with what her late husband had called “elegant blood,” had grown gray and gaunt above the worn glove that clamped her throat. Her vision swam, sharpening and falling away in tandem with the desperate pulse of her weakened heart. Or perhaps it was the man’s heartbeat that pinched her vision, felt in her strained neck through the dry-cracked glove, radiating from the palm of that cruel hand. Either way it sounded like war drums in her head, each viper-strike beat warping the lip of Cōm-Labi beneath her and the vacuity beyond.Tue, 23 Dec 2014 01:15:39 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/a-dream-stirsThe warrior stood transfixed, his arms pulled to his sides, his feet mired unseen, held heavily in perfect darkness, the air thick like clotted blood. Beard strained to stand straight, his iron thews bulging against the unseen forces that bound him. His eyes flashed pale blue in the endless night, glowing with impotent rage, his furrowed brow gleaming with the sweat of his fruitless battle. A fel wind drew the warriors gaze, a pale light pulsing in the distance casting a cold ice bitten hue upon the ground. A vast expanse opened up before the warrior thirsting eyes, an endless desert of shifting ebony sand.Tue, 06 Jan 2015 01:41:22 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/demonholmeThe setting sun cast the sky in silver gold and the sea glowed like burnished copper. In the distance the horizon danced as if caught in the rising heat of a smithye's forge. Sol's proud beams bent like a bow in the sky over the open waves. The warrior knew he had reached the shroud that covered the dreaming isle, Ku'Linac, demonhome.Thu, 15 Jan 2015 21:00:35 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/2equals1“Mother!” Beard screamed, his mind reclaiming its bearings after slipping away into a vision of his blood-mother falling into the pit Cōm-Labi. He’d watched in grim awe as she’d plummeted... her and his wolfkin, Ierremod, last living pup of Wuthweirgen. And then he’d seen their assailant, the man in the black robes. Then the Dark One was indeed a man of his word...Mon, 02 Feb 2015 01:33:24 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/returnBeard had trudged on until he could no longer hear the hum of the tram behind him, that strange machine which had bore him to this even stranger city from that of Ku'Linac, ancient home to the demonrace. Then the warrior had knelt, his body still throbbing with the pains of fruitless battle, his mind still thrumming with matters of the heart. After pacing both breath and blood, Beard lifted his tired eyes to the ruins before him.Tue, 24 Feb 2015 19:15:48 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-winter-fatherIt is said the ice giants are dead. But people say many things, and of those many, more are untrue than not. For how can the ice giants be dead when their father, Issfavr, comes each year at Winterhart to test the mettle of Thorgithe's sons? Perhaps it is because the last and greatest of the ice giants dwells only in the memories of the ancients, his existence as forgotten as his name, for all who see him now call him now the Winter Father, the Cold Wanderer. But beneath his cloak and fatherly gaze his heart still remembers the beat of the world soul.Thu, 12 Mar 2015 20:23:15 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/originsWon’t you sit right back and, aye, I may tell ye a tale. It’s a tale of merriment with rather heartbreaking origins. Aye, bloody it is, but full of hope. You wish to hear then? Well, buy me a drink on this festive day and I’ll bend your ear as far as it’ll go.Wed, 18 Mar 2015 08:09:33 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/zum-teufelI’d heard for a long time that Eduard Dietl, the heralded Generaloberst of the 20th Mountain Army of the Wehrmacht, was a fan of my magic act when I still went by the name Klaus Königstein, so I had ample time for preparation. He’d been busy playing chess with men’s lives in Norway and Finland before the spring of 1944, but upon a visit to Graz in Austria, he requested a show and, as you could imagine, declining a request of a high-ranking member of the Nazi Party was putting a gun to your own head.Mon, 04 May 2015 17:00:46 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/beard-season-3SEASON 3 NEWSMon, 22 Jun 2015 07:12:53 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/the-promiseWAKE! WAKE SON OF THUNDER! WAKE DEVIL OF THE NORTH! WAKE SO THAT YOU MAY DIE! WAKE AND LIVE TO DIE AGAIN! WAKE ONCE MORE, OH BEARD THE IMMORTAL! Sat, 01 Aug 2015 07:08:42 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/beard-the-immortal-we-are-the-scarab-kingIn a shift of perspective long ago, Beard Weirheowdth had traversed a realm of gore, a grim unplace of snow-matted blood and bone chips. Even after such a long, arduous journey he could remember the crimson pools that had filled his boot prints there and the way the distant mountains had been daggers skewering a dying skyline. He’d lost himself in a mind-trap much different than the Black Door or the thoughts beneath thoughts. And it was this memory that pervaded Beard’s mind as he trudged along the ashen dunes of the strange, unnamed wastelands where Dalia of the Song had left him.Mon, 05 Oct 2015 18:40:01 +1300http://www.swordandportent.com/index.php/posts/nightmarejournal-the-long-walk-homeThe first of my nightmare journal entries. The one I had today which was particularly bad and inspired me to start chronicling them in earnest to perhaps take ownership of my dreams again.Sun, 28 Feb 2016 05:23:54 +1300