Wrizzit

C Alan Morgan·Apr 3, 2026

And here it is, the first major revision to a story I’ve already posted. It was high summer in Midgard County, West Virginia. Independence Day had come and gone, and people were settling into the “dog days”—that long stretch when humidity peaks, everything moves more slowly, and ice-cold lemonade replaces sweet tea as the drink of choice on front porches across the county. Over in Coal Creek, Junior Jarl’s older sister, Dagma, was visiting from Cincinnati with her two daughters, Lexi and Livi. A few days into their stay, the twins decided they wanted their Uncle Junior to take them camping in the mountains so they could see the fireflies. Junior wasn’t particularly keen on the idea. Like many of his dwarven kin, he wasn’t what you’d call outdoorsy. A day out fishing or hunting was fine, but once the sun went down, he preferred a bed to a sleeping bag. One look at those two faces, though, and there was no way he could tell them no.