Welcome to Clychau


Clychau is a small village nestled by a lake in the Welsh hills. It’s the scene of some of the action in Book Four of the Storyteller’s Quest. I am currently writing the fourth chapter of something like 15 chapters.

Here is a short extract:

On foot, they followed the road through the centre of the silent village, the echo of their footfalls ringing off the houses. Most of the rows of terraced houses made up of five or six lodgings ran parallel to the road but here and there the terraces were perpendicular to it. Anju was struck by the cleanliness of everything. The windows had been cleaned and the paintwork had been washed recently. None of the houses had gardens but Anju was sure that, had there been gardens, they would have been full of blossoming flowers. Midway through the village they reached a junction. The righthand fork continued on through the village and up an incline at the back where it came to a dead end. The lefthand turning headed down towards the lake.

They opted for the lake. The narrow road squeezed between two rows of houses, hopped over an abandoned railway line and came to rest in a large courtyard that scuttled all the way down to the lakeside in one direction and romped across to the massive doors of what had once been a foundry on the other.

“Welcome to Clychau!” a high pitched voice said. All three spun round to find a tiny man standing atop a ramp by the rail line. “The home of the bells,” he explained, adding: “Dylan Baugh at your service.”

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