Meet The Weavers

Every city has its mysteries. In Lasemire, some of the most charming and infuriating are the Weavers.

The Weavers are small, nimble beings who live in crooked, tiny wooden houses that are nestled in otherwise awkward and unused corners of the city. Their homes often lean at improbable angles, decorated with bits of bright fabric, wind chimes and anything else that catches their eye.

Weavers are known for their love of practical jokes. No one is safe from their mischief; not neighbours, not travellers and certainly not the leaders of the Guard. Whether it’s a harmless bucket of water balanced over a doorframe or a mysteriously missing set of armour, a Weaver prank is almost always followed by a chorus of hysterical laughter from somewhere just out of sight.

But behind their playful nature lies a close knit community with a long history in Lasemire. They care for one another fiercely and while they rarely leave their little clusters of houses for long, their influence is felt across the city. They’re the head of trouble making amongst the children of the city. Even worse, they have a way of knowing things; little scraps of information that seem to drift toward them like leaves on the wind and they never forget a kindness… or a slight.

In my upcoming book, the Weavers bring colour, chaos, and a little unpredictability to the city. Whether they’re helping or hindering, one thing’s certain: life in Lasemire is never boring when a Weaver is involved.