In the summer of Year 913, a ship called The Wind’s Account limped into Inverness Harbour under a false flag and a tattered sail. Among its cargo—hidden behind crates of salted herring and lamp oil—were dozens of looted paintings, icons, and reliquaries from across the war-torn eastern realms.Continue Reading
The battle that followed became legend. The pirates, anchored in a crescent formation, unleashed their cannon as the Valiant approached – but Dane, using the morning glare to blind their gunners, held his fire until the last possible moment. Then, swinging broadside at less than fifty yards, he gave the order: “Run out and fire as she bears!”Continue Reading
If you travel far enough along the old southern road—past the vineyards gone to bramble and the mileposts no one bothers to repaint—you will eventually reach Evermere, a name that once suggested elegance and healing, and now means little more than ruins by a lake. There are no signs pointing the way anymore. You find it by accident, or by memory.Continue Reading
There are faster ways to reach the southern provinces, but none finer than the Golden Rail, that grand artery of steam and polish that carries the Kingdom’s citizens from Inverness to the green hills of Southmarch in just under nine unhurried hours. It departs from Platform Two of the Royal Terminus, a hall of brass columns and clockwork dignity where the scent of coal mingles with perfume and anticipation.Continue Reading
The road to Mount Saint Caradoc begins like any other: cobbles, cottages, and the quiet chatter of travellers who still believe they know where they are going. But an hour beyond the last tavern, the landscape changes. The hedgerows fade, the air cools, and the path begins to wind upward through heather and thin mist. By the time one reaches the foothills, the only sound left is one’s own breathing—and the distant toll of a bell that no one can quite locate.Continue Reading
There is a moment, somewhere past the fifth tunnel, when the scent of the countryside vanishes. The smoke of the train thickens, the sky turns the colour of tin, and the windows begin to rattle not from speed but from vibration. That is the moment one knows they have entered Glaston Quay—the Iron City, the beating anvil of the Kingdom of Eyehasseen.Continue Reading
There are few places left in the Kingdom where the sea still feels like a secret. The Lantern Isles, scattered like pearls off the southern coast, are among them. No rail line reaches their shores, no great ferry makes the crossing. To go there one must take the small mail boat from Westreach, and even that ventures out only when the weather and the tides are in rare agreement.Continue Reading
By Staff Correspondent, Inverness Bureau INVERNESS — The bells of the city ring on schedule, the trams keep to their routes, and the shops along Chancellor’s Row still open precisely at the eighth hour. Yet something subtle has shifted in the rhythm of life. It can be heard in theContinue Reading
DeChirico Exhibition at the Royal Museum of Art – Shadows and Silence, gathers together for the first time in Eyehasseen a dozen of De Chirico’s most iconic canvases: Continue Reading
These are the sanctuaries of Eyehasseen’s master clockmakers, artisans whose intricate mechanisms regulate not merely hours but the rhythm of modern life.Continue Reading