The Ember Trail
The air reeked of salt and coal smoke as Clara stepped off the ferry, her boots crunching over broken oyster shells. The San Francisco docks in 1849 were a symphony of chaos—shouts of merchants hawking gold dust, the creak of…
Gold Rush
Read MoreThe Ember Trail
The Cartographer’s Shadow
The dust clung to Elara Thorne’s boots as she stepped off the wagon, her fingers curling around the leather-bound journal tucked beneath her coat. The air reeked of pine resin and sweat, a thick haze that made the sun feel…
Dustspire’s Shadow
The air in Dustspire stank of pine resin and sweat, a thick miasma that clung to Elara’s throat as she stepped off the wagon. Her boots crunched over gravel, each step echoing against the skeletal remains of tents and wagons,…
The Gilded Dust
Clara Whitaker stepped off the creaking schooner onto the dock, her boots sinking into the damp planks as the briny air stung her lungs. The port of San Francisco reeked of salt and smoke, a cacophony of shouts and clinking…
The Dust and the Diamond
Clara stepped off the stagecoach as the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the dusty town of Red Creek. The air smelled of pine and burnt wood, a sharp contrast to the saltwater tang she’d known all her life.…