Oct 6, 2026 · 54 min · 9 segments
It's Feed Swap time people! Theres loads of great audio fiction out there, so heres an episode from the good people at Welcome to the Brass Eagle You can find out all about this show over at…
¦ ¦
Amara
hits the floor hard while her world spins.
It feels as if the entire tavern has been plucked from its foundation and sent tumbling through the air, end over end.
She is sprawled out in a clumsy heap, but the Keeper lays neatly on the ground nearby.
He glares at her, furious, while she implores him for an answer.
What is happening?
Beyond the tavern's window is a swiftly tilting vortex of colors and light, inscrutable shapes flashing by in an instant.
Amara clasps her hands over her head to block it all out.
Wind howls, thunder rumbles, and lanterns bounce on their chains overhead.
Then, just as abruptly as it
begun,
the storm relents, and the tavern groans as it settles back on solid ground.
What was that? An earthquake? Ha!
No.
Look outside.
Amara stands and takes a few shaky steps over to the window.
Gone is the plaza filled with drunken revellers, gone is her hometown, and gone are her friends.
All she sees is a smooth wall of natural stone, its surface slick with condensation mere inches from the building.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Did we fall into a sinkhole?
No, we're in some cave or something.
The better question is why are you here?
A cave? What do you mean a cave? That's impossible.
Impossible?
¦ ¦
Amara
hits the floor hard while her world spins.
It feels as if the entire tavern has been plucked from its foundation and sent tumbling through the air, end over end.
She is sprawled out in a clumsy heap, but the Keeper lays neatly on the ground nearby.
He glares at her, furious, while she implores him for an answer.
What is happening?
Beyond the tavern's window is a swiftly tilting vortex of colors and light, inscrutable shapes flashing by in an instant.
Amara clasps her hands over her head to block it all out.
Wind howls, thunder rumbles, and lanterns bounce on their chains overhead.
Then, just as abruptly as it
begun,
the storm relents, and the tavern groans as it settles back on solid ground.
What was that? An earthquake? Ha!
No.
Look outside.
Amara stands and takes a few shaky steps over to the window.
Gone is the plaza filled with drunken revellers, gone is her hometown, and gone are her friends.
All she sees is a smooth wall of natural stone, its surface slick with condensation mere inches from the building.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Did we fall into a sinkhole?
No, we're in some cave or something.
The better question is why are you here?
A cave? What do you mean a cave? That's impossible.
Impossible?
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