StormborneLore

Tag: storytelling

  • Ow bist, bab? (Authors Note)

    Ow bist, bab? (Authors Note)

    A colorful painting depicting a Tettenhall Woood Prefab a red door and flower beds in front, set against a blue sky with clouds.
    A colorful illustration depicting a quaint Tettenhall Woods Prefab surrounded by a vibrant garden, representing the warmth of the Black Country dialect and local culture.

    It’s a proper cowd one out there this Sunday, so what better day to dive into a new post?


    Today, it’s a little disclaimer about the language that features in my stories…

    Author’s Note: The Tongue of the Land

    While the Black Country dialect does not belong to the Roman period. It is used within these stories to represent the voice of the common people. The humble folk who stood beside Taranis, shaped by soil, storm, and memory.

    The dialect itself descends from Old English. First spoken between 1100–1300 CE, and remains alive in parts of the West Midlands today.


    The earlier language spoken in Roman-era Mercia has long been lost, leaving no written record.

    By using this dialect, I seek not historical precision but continuity.. To let the living voice of the land speak through its past.

    To those who do not understand the dialect…

    “Ow bist, bab?”
    means “How are you, love?”

    “It’s a proper cowd one out there”
    translates to “It’s really cold outside.”

    So all together:

    “How are you, love? It’s a really cold one out there this Sunday, so what better day to dive into a new post?”

    The Black Country dialect has a warmth and rhythm all of its own . It’s how my grandparents and neighbours spoke, and how the land itself still seems to talk on quiet days.

    It’s the same voice I hear when I write of the Stormborne. Ordinary folk shaped by wind, stone, and rain, who carry the old sounds onward through time.

  • The Art of Words: A Father’s Lament

    The Art of Words: A Father’s Lament

    Four painted stones displayed on a dark surface, featuring various colorful designs including sun, grass, and abstract patterns.
    Colorful hand-painted stones depicting various abstract and natural scenes.

    After Taranis’s Exile

    The wind mourns,

    through the ancient trees,
    Whispering tales of broken kin,
    A son cast out beyond the flame,
    Where shadows dwell and wild beasts grin.

    The fire we built,

    Now cold and dim,
    The bond once strong,

    now stretched and torn.
    I sent you forth, my blood and bone,
    To face the night, alone, forlorn.

    Yet in the stars, your name still burns,
    A flicker bright against the dark.
    Though exiled from the hearth’s warm heart,
    You carry still our family’s mark.

    Run swift, my son, through storm and stone,
    May strength be yours when paths grow rough.
    The wolf still howls within your blood,
    And I, your father, watch from dusk.

    One day the earth may shift again,
    And bring you back where you belong.
    Until that time, beneath the sky,
    I sing this lonely, bitter song.

    © written by ELHewitt