SerialStories

From the Lost Phylactery Chronicles Pearl Harbor, Oahu, Hawaii Alyssa lifted the seventy-foot-long aluminum lattice from the muddy bottom and carefully balanced it on her shoulder before wading through the harbor. She stepped gingerly, wary of stepping on any more ancient dangers hidden below the silt. The presence of Chen Wang lei’s pirates so far from Taiwan caused a bit of an alarm within the International Maritime Authority, so the IMA decided it was time reactivate Pearl Harbor. Since then, she’d been using her giant size to help the Islanders and the crew of the Argo to restore the naval base, acting as a walking crane to clear the larger debris from the harbor and airstrip. All around the base the native islanders were busy uprooting tree stumps, filling in holes, hauling off debris, and demolishing unsalvageable structures. All under the watchful supervision of the Argo’s chief engineer Duncan O’Brian. “I think that’s the last of it.” Alyssa put the lattice down with the

In the middle of the Garen’s Well, nestled right off Main Street, is a pub known as the Twilight Tavern. It was an old building, having been around for so long that when Gabe remodeled he had to replace many a wooden plank that had been rubbed smooth by time. Gabe was the heir to the wealthy Van Bryant vineyard family, so he had more than enough to clean up the old building. Gone away was the dive bar, instead a proper pub gleamed brightly in its place. It still had the rustic feeling of an old tavern. Hooded lights hung over each booth, pool table, and dartboard. But you didn’t have to worry about a cold wind blowing through the gaps in the boards, or rain leaking through the roof. Although Gabe did tease the older clientele that he could hook up a leaky sprinkler if they truly wanted to relive those old memories. During the evening the pub was pleasantly busy as many a farmer, miner, and craftsman found themselves bellied up to the bartop with a pint of beer to help them unwind.