I trust Father is keeping wellādo look after him, wonāt you? He always had a habit of overworking himself, and Iād be terribly worried if heās done the same in my absence. Iāve been praying, just as you asked me to, though Iāll admitā¦ of late, it feels harder to find comfort in the words. Some days, I wonder how much longer I can endure the trenches. The cold bites deeper than I imagined, and the silence between shelling is far louder than one expects.
Itās been just over a year since I last saw you both, andāstrangelyāI find myself missing Maybellsburg more than I ever thought I would. I miss the little coffee shop on the corner, the park near the chapel, and the river where Anne and I used to walk. Funny how war makes one long for the smallest things.
If God permits, and I return from this place, Iād like to take up medicine againāperhaps even work alongside Father, as we always spoke of. And Anneā¦ well, I think Iām finally ready to ask for her hand. Do you think sheād accept, Mother? Would she wait for someone like me?
Please write soon. Your letters bring me more light than the sun ever does in this place.
a faint voice brushed against the young womanās ears like the wind through the old curtains of the orphanage. Jude, second of the maidens and newly named assistant to Rosie Crawford, stood frozen near the hallway of paintings of the family, her hand resting on the velvet banister. The flickering candle in her grasp cast long shadows across the wallpaper, dancing like shadowy figures. It was Anne who called, her younger sister. always gentle, always watching her sister wherever she goes. Like a duckling following its mother.Ā
āIām only tired,ā Jude replied, though her voice barely held its shape, āMrs. Rosie and I wereā¦ searching earlier. I hope we didnāt wake the children.āĀ
Anne stepped into the hallway from the bedroom, her nightgown soft and pale as smoke, however, gleamed with quiet knowing. āI know. You both walk to these hallways each night.ā Her younger sister softly closed the door, and looked at her sister, āHave you found the doctor?ā
āNo sign of him.ā A silence followed, they canāt help but feel the shiver of the cold wind that came from the windows. āMay I come with you?ā Anne tugged on her sisterās sleeve, while Jude looked down and gave a faint smile,āOf course. Why would I refuse?āĀ
As they walked together side by side, deeper into the halls of the orphanage. Floorboards creaked beneath them like old bones. The candlelight she held bloomed and faded across the portraits lining the walls. The doctorās family, stern-faced, hollow-eyed, yet only to be covered by specks of dust and varnishā¦ until.. Him and Rosie, the only ones that seemed to smile amidst the cold paintings, alongside their late-son.Ā
After a while, Jude spoke again, her voice barely more than a whisper; āAnneā¦ Thereās something I havenāt told you.ā Her little sister glanced up at her, sensing a shift of her older sisterās tone, āWhat is it?āĀ
Jude swallowed. āI found letters. In Mrs. Rosieās desk.āĀ
Anneās eyes widened. āLetters?āĀ
āFolded beneath her ledger. I wasnāt looking for them. I was just organizing her notes from the infirmary, but they were there. Tucked beneath the drawer liner. Old, some stained, as if with ink or water. Or something else, perhaps.ā As she continued to walk, Anne said nothing but still followed. āSome of them were from the townsfolk. They were begging for answers, asking where their husbands or daughters had goneā¦ā She looked at the windows, pausing there for a moment to look at the moon shining its light upon the fountain of the orphanage. āOthersā¦others were colder. Accusatory. They said Mrs. Rosie knew more than she let on. Those people come missing after visiting the Hollowbrook Clinic.āĀ
āThe Doctorās Clinic?ā
āYes.āĀ
Jude took a deep breath, looking at her sister once more. Anne parted her lips, āDid she ever mention them to you?ā her voice, sounding more cautious, as if she is stepping over fragile glass. āNot a word.ā Judeās tone was low. āShe speaks often of the sickness, of the need to protect the children, but she never talks about the people who vanish. Not even the doctor.ā Anne looked at her sisterās trembling hands. She knew too much, as she thought. She held Judeās hand, clasping it together to calm her senses. āDo youā¦believe it? That sheās involved?āĀ
The older sister did not respond immediately. Her gaze fixated on the pine trees, but her thoughts were adrift elsewhereā on the faint scent of that night of Briarās suffering. The damp and metallic scent. She remembers it. āI donāt know what to believe.ā Her gaze looked at the carpet, āBut those letters werenāt written out of spite. They were written in grief.ā Anne felt her sisterās hand squeeze into a fist. āSomething is happening, Anne. And I think Rosieās keeping us in the dark on purpose.āĀ
Before her younger sister would speak for her comfort, then came a sound. From behind.Ā
The sisters froze, and the candlelight trembled again.Ā
āYou two.āĀ
Anne nearly yelped, but Jude reacted firstāher hand flying to her sisterās lips, silencing her with a gentle press. The voice had come not from the stairs or the window, but closer. too close. From just beyond the portrait of Rosie Crawford, A girl stood in the dimness, parting from the shadows like she had been there for the whole time. It was Briarāone of the twins.
āYou shouldnāt be making a fuss. Mother is still awake.āĀ
Briar stared at them with her one eye, the other hollow. The other... a sunken void beneath a half-stitched lid. āMiss Briarā¦ Why are you awake, where is your sister?ā Jude asked, slowly walking towards the child.Ā
āShe escaped.ā
---
Hey my magpies! sorry if it felt half-assed, i am probably running out of ideas at this point... BUT HEY
i am going to cook up soon, i promise!
Anne and Jude, or Ann and Judy in the old sketch before i renamed them
CONTENT WARNING: BODY HORROR UP AHEAD, YOU ARE WARNED!
Hello everyone, sorry for not posting for awhile! lately, i am experiencing a HUGE writer's block for Orphans of Crawford, and I'm like, you know what? I have a few concepts and sketches to show for the book i am working on, i don't like the results of any of em' but i will give it to you guys as a treat.
Not much about the lore but exploring more about the characters, or even conceptualizing the world inside of Orphans of Crawford. So, let's see, shall we?
I tried making the children diverse as possible so everyone can tell them apart, especially the twin sisters, Briar and Belle. They are, after all, the oldest amongst the orphans. I had fun experimenting with them, and I WANT TO DRAW THEM AGAIN!!! maybe i have something planned for next post hehehehe
But anyway, there are more than many orphans to design within the orphanage, let's say twenty? and these are the ones i designed so far based on their importance of the story.
Next is a concept of the monsters of this story. You are already warned from before about the body horror you are about to see, but for me, designing it felt it was kind of mild as i couldn't think of anything else to sketch out, but i did try my best to capture the level of uncanniness.
haha you could already tell who is the favorite
the idea of these monsters are linked to the deadly disease going around maybellsburg, its information would be in another post since its going to be a loooong process and a lot to take it. for now, enjoy this art dump. xP
"Let them whisper of ghosts. Let them doubt her hands. None of it mattered. She was the only one left to save them."
Preeeview of the cover!
I would like to thank everyone for supporting my work for these past months! Especially that I worked hard on this to make it possible, and as for a treat for all of my magpies, i present to you:
A preview of the prologue of ORPHANS OF CRAWFORD on AO3!
Word count: 1,227
Although it may not be my best work, but i wanted to say that I appreciate every comment that you leave underneath my entries, it warms my heart to see that you enjoy my writing for Orphans of Crawford. Although, there will always be changes within the story, i am just happy that you guys enjoyed it. <3
"She had loved him. And she knew, in his own quiet way, he had loved her too."
Hello, under this post is most likely not part of the book but most likely tied around Rosie and Kollsvein's lore! they may be briefly mentioned in some chapters, but our focus isn't them, unfortunatelyā¦
Have this, my treat! I wanted to write in mother's perspective this time.
It has been months since I last saw you. Haven't you noticed? The children are wondering where have you been. The bed felt empty, and despite your skin felt cold, you found warmth between our embrace. I miss the smell of earl grey in your lips, your green, jaded eyes looking at me, and our conversations together in our study. I always prefer silence, but without you, it felt empty. Remember the day you walked my across that river, to the forests with a blindfold carefully wrapped around my eyes, surprising me this very mansion? I could never forget, in that moment, you would do everything for me.
The loss of our son was never easy. Your heart became cold, but I never gave up loving you. I carried my love like embers to my hands to the voids of your heart, even if i felt like I was the one burning. Our love was not extravagant, but i find comfort in your quiet demeanor. I understood you that no one ever could. Despite my sorrow, you never stopped convincing me that I am one, strong, woman. Remember how i would straighten your coat before you left, how my fingers linger enough to tell you to be careful?
How foolish I was. To leave you out there, all alone at night. I wish I had came with you, and despite my protests, you insisted that i should stay. After all, I am the mother of my children. I saw the way you were gentle of pulling me away, the way your eyes had faded grey yet held a small smile across your face. You were never the one to smile.
But that night, you did.
A small, fleeting smileāone that I barely caught before the darkness swallowed you whole. I should have known. I should have recognized it for what it wasāa farewell disguised as reassurance. But I let you go, didnāt I? I let you slip through my fingers like water, and now, I am left drowning in the silence you left behind.
The halls feel colder without you. The children still ask for you, their voices laced with curiosity at first, then with something quieter. Something heavier. They donāt know what it means for a man to vanish without a trace, but I do. I see it in their eyes when they think Iām not lookingāthe slow, dawning realization that you might never come back.
I donāt tell them what I truly think. That you are gone. That you may never return. That I wake up every morning hoping to hear your footsteps outside our room, only to be met with stillness. That I keep setting out a second cup of tea, only to watch it grow cold, untouched.
I try to be strong, as you always said I was. I gather the children in the drawing room, tell them stories before bed, mend their clothes, run my fingers through their hair like a mother should. I remind myself that this was the life you gave meāthe life we built together.
But at night, when the house settles into its restless quiet, I let myself miss you.
I sit in your chair in the study, tracing the grain of the wood with absent fingers, remembering the nights we spent here. The long discussions, the shared silences, the way your presence alone could anchor me even in my grief. I press my forehead to the desk and wonder if you will ever return to me, or if I am simply chasing the ghost of a man who has already been lost to the world.
If I close my eyes, I can still feel the last warmth of your hand against mine. I can still hear your voice, low and steady, telling me that I am strong. That I must keep going.
Welcome back to my blog my magpies! (can i call all of you that? since my sona itself is a magpie!)
Remember that in all of Maybellsburg, there is a creature walking amongst them? Let us find that out!
Before this unknown cryptid was rumored, there was an ongoing epidemic years after the great war. The doctor, Kollsvein Crawford, along with his wife, went to investigate with this mysterious disease. Yet, he was taking the matters in his own hands as he doesn't want to endager his own family.
From the Pages of Dr. Crawford's pages...
Patient 1: Laura Gibbens
Symptoms: Fever, Migraine, Nausea
Mrs. Gibbens was brought into my clinic today, accompanied by her husband, Mr. Andrew Gibbens. He arrived in a state of distress, speaking hurriedly of her declineāhow she had taken ill shortly after they had been crossing the riverside at Maybellsburg, even after washing their linens in its waters.
I have seen Mrs Gibbens before, passing by on my walks through the parkāa woman of youth and vigour. Yet, as she sat before me today, I scarcely recognised her. Her frame, once full of life, had withered; her skin clung desperately to her bones. She looked more spectre than wife.
Upon questioning Mr Gibbens, I learned she had lost her appetite over the past week, barely eating, barely drinking. The fever alone would not explain thisāsomething deeper, more insidious, gnaws at her. I searched for signs, for clues, for reason, but there is no name I can give to her ailment.
I prescribed what little comfort I couldāwarm broth, rest, tonics to ease her chillsābut even as I wrote them down, I could not shake the sense that it would all be in vain. A sickness without a name is a sickness without a cure.
I shall check on her again in the coming days, though a part of me dreads what I might find.
Patient 5: Roland Mercier
Symptoms: Restlessness ?
Roland Mercier was brought to me today, though by the looks of him, I wonder how he had managed to walk at all. His eyesāsunken, bloodshotāstared at me as though from a great distance. He is unshaven, his clothes dishevelled, his fingers trembling even in stillness. He tells me he has not slept for twenty-seven days.
I did not believe him at first. It is impossible, surely. The body cannot endure such deprivation without yielding to madness, to collapse, to death. And yet, Roland remainsāfrail, but lucid enough to speak, to recount his affliction in fragmented gasps. He lies awake each night, unable to will his body to rest, unable to even close his eyes for long before a creeping sensation forces them open again. He described it as a presenceāa watching thing, unseen but felt, lingering just beyond his vision.
I should have dismissed such talk as the delusions of exhaustion. I should have assured him that his body would give in soon, that sleep would claim him whether he willed it or not. But I did not. Because I have heard this before.
Stevens.
My son had spoken of such things once, long ago, when his nights grew restless, when his thoughts turned fevered. He, too, would stare beyond me as though someone else stood in the room. He, too, would grow erratic, withdrawn, disturbed by something he could not name. And I, in my arrogance, had thought it no more than a childās nightmares, the workings of an unsettled mind.
What if I was wrong?
Roland is no child. He has no history of illness, no head injuries, no signs of fever or consumption. Yet I see it in himāthe same unease, the same slow unraveling I once saw in Stevens before heā¦ before he was lost to me.
Could it be that some affliction of the mind, something deeper than mere sickness, has latched itself to certain souls? A condition I have no name for, no cure, no means to halt?
I have given Roland valerian root, a tincture of chamomile and poppy seed, though I fear they will do little. I will see him again in three days. I tell myself he will be improved, that exhaustion will finally overtake him.
But I cannot ignore the feeling that something else is keeping him awake. Watching. Waiting.
I do not know what I will find when I see him next.
ā¦..
Rosie and I have uncovered something unsettlingāsomething that, perhaps, ties many of my patientsā cases together. Water.
She was the first to make the connection. My wife has always possessed a keen intuition, one that sees beyond what is immediately apparent. As we pored over my records, she noted that several of those afflictedāMrs Gibbens, Roland Mercierāhad, at some point, been exposed to the waters of Maybellsburg. Some had crossed the river, others had washed their linens or drawn drinking water from its banks. Too many for it to be mere coincidence.
Upon closer examination, we discovered something strangeāa form of bacteria, or perhaps an amoeba, shifting and writhing under the lens of my microscope. What little knowledge I have of such things is insufficient to determine its nature, but it is unlike anything I have seen before. Could it be that thisā¦ thing finds its way into the body? That it spreads unseen, burrowing into the mind itself?
A dreadful notion took hold of me then. I have read of illnesses that consume the braināfevers that steal reason, parasites that take hold of their hosts and alter their very nature. What if this is such a thing? An affliction not of flesh, but of thought?
The symptoms, when viewed together, paint a grim picture. Those affected do not simply weaken; they change. Appetite wanes, fever takes hold, nausea and migraines follow. But it is the mind that suffers most. Their moods shift unpredictably, their tempers fray, and someālike Rolandābegin to see things that are not there.
I cannot say with certainty that this thing in the water is to blame. Our knowledge is too crude, our instruments too primitive to trace its path within the body. And yet, doubt gnaws at me. I have taken to testing small creaturesāmice, birdsāexposing them to the water, observing their behaviour in the days that follow. A cruel practice, but a necessary one. If they begin to exhibit the same symptoms, then perhaps I am not simply grasping at phantoms.
I do not know if this is the answer. But if it is, then the people of Maybellsburg are drinking from a poisoned well.
I shall continue my observations. And pray I am wrong.
"Follow the mists of the forest, you'll find your way home."
Welcome back to my blog, Ford of the Crows.
Here, i wanted to ramble about the history of "Crawford's Children's Care", The orphanage where our protagonists reside in. You may wonder, why did the crawford family built this orphanage?
Let's start in the beginning.
Rosie Bacunawa and Kollsvein shared a bond that was undeniableāan unspoken chemistry that eventually led to marriage (though thatās a story for another post!). Together, they had a son, Stevens Crawfordātheir first and only child. For Rosie, becoming a mother was a long-held dream. She yearned to experience the joy and warmth of raising a child, and Stevens became the center of that dream.
In his early years, Stevens appeared to be an ordinary child, but as he grew older, concerns began to surface. Friends, teachers, and even the villagers often whispered about his strange behavior. He was known to talk to himself when he thought no one was listening, and there were moments when his moods would shift without warningāone moment quiet and withdrawn, the next, erratic and aggressive toward other children. This led Rosie and Kollsvein to have a decision to make him homeschooled, often taught by tutors or his own mother herself.
By the age of 18, Stevens developed a deep interest in medicine, hoping to follow in the footsteps of both his parents. Driven not only by curiosity but by a desperate desire to find a cure for his own mental struggles, he dreamed of attending medical school and dedicating his life to healing othersāand perhaps, himself.
However, those dreams were cut short. As tensions rose before the Great War, Stevens was forced into military training, leaving behind his ambitions. When the war finally broke out, he was sent to the front linesāa place far removed from the life he had envisioned.
Tragically, he never returned. In the chaos of war, Stevens was killed, and his body was never recovered. The absence of his remains left an open wound in the hearts of his mother and father. Rosie and Kollsvein were left to grieve not only the loss of their only child but also the life he might have livedāa life full of promise, cut short by the cruelty of war.
Rosie never wanted a life filled with so much sorrow. In the quiet moments, the weight of her grief was unbearableāshe couldnāt shake the feeling that she had failed Stevens as a mother. No matter how much time passed, the ache of losing him lingered, a constant reminder of the child she couldnāt save.
Kollsvein, ever the devoted husband, couldnāt stand to see her consumed by sadness. Wanting nothing more than to bring a spark of happiness back into her life, he surprised her one day with an extraordinary giftāa mansion he had built to serve as a refuge for orphans.
In this home, Rosie could pour her love into children who had no one else, offering them the care and second chance they deserved. It was more than just a grand gestureāit was a way to heal. Through nurturing those who had been abandoned, she could find purpose again, filling the void left by the child they had lost and creating a legacy of hope in his memory.
"All of the children here in Crawford always follow mother's rules."
Welcome to Ford of the Crows, here I wanted to ramble all about the characters in "Orphans of Crawford."
Table of contents:
I. MAIN Characters
II. Orphans
III. Mother and the Doctor
MAIN CHARACTERS
Kaleb Thomas
Kaleb grew up on the outskirts of Cinderford, raised in a humble farming family. His early life was idyllicāa simple existence many would envy. But this peaceful life was shattered when the chaos of war tore his family apart, leaving him with his loyal companion, Kane, a faithful dog gifted to him by his father as both a memory and a protector.
In the years that followed, Kaleb found himself alone on the streets of Maybellsburg, scraping by as an orphan. Survival became his only goal, often relying on scraps scavenged from trash bins to keep himself and Kane alive. Yet, even amidst the struggle, Kalebās sharp mind and adaptability shone through. Observing the traveling merchants who passed through the village, he picked up invaluable lessons.
By an impressively young age, Kaleb had learned to turn discarded junk into treasures, selling his finds to make enough coins to survive. He took on any odd job or labor that could keep him going, though he never managed to secure a place to call home. Unfortunately, the villagers of Maybellsburg didnāt take kindly to him, viewing his scrappy behavior with disdain despite his harmlessness. He's one adventurous boy, but sometimes his curiosity could lead him to some consequences.
Belle
Belle is an orphan under the care of Rosie Crawford, the matron of a private orphanage near Maybellsburg. She and her twin sister arrived at the childrenās home as infants, their origins shrouded in mystery, left on the doorstep. Within the orphanage walls, Belle naturally takes on the role of an older sister to the younger children, her cheerful and carefree nature bringing a sense of warmth and camaraderie to the home.
However, when Mother enforces new rules forbidding the children from leaving the mansion grounds, Belle begins to show her defiant side, in stark contrast to her more disciplined twin. She grows restless, longing for the freedom she once had and missing the presence of the kind Doctor, whom she regards as a trusted friend.
Driven by her longing to see him again, Belle decides to sneak out one night in search of the Doctor. Instead, she stumbles upon Kaleb, setting into motion an encounter that would change both of their lives.
ORPHANS
Briar
Briar is Belleās twin sister, but the two are strikingly different in personality. While Belle is lively and outgoing, Briar is introverted and reflective. Her quiet nature makes her a calming presence in the orphanage, and many of the younger children adore her for the stories she reads to them at bedtime. Her soothing voice and vivid imagination create worlds that offer a brief escape from their reality. However, Briarās missing eye sometimes unsettles those around herāsome are unbothered, but others find it difficult to look past her disfigurement.
Her missing eye is the result of the infection that continues to weigh heavily on her. Since the affliction, Briar has grown more reserved, often seeming lost in thought or uneasy. She confides to no one but Belle that, without her eye, she has started to see things that others cannotāshadowy figures, flickers of movement, and strange visions that haunt her both day and night. Whether these are remnants of trauma, side effects of the illness, or something more supernatural, even Briar herself cannot say.
Despite her struggles, Briar possesses a quiet strength and an empathetic heart. Her connection to the unseen and the whispers of her intuition make her feel both otherworldly and deeply humanāa girl navigating the blurred line between the known and the unknown.
Noah
Noah grew up in an abusive household, a painful past that left its mark on him both emotionally and mentally. His biological mother often dismissed him as a "troubled child," a label that only deepened his sense of isolation. Now living in the orphanage, Noah keeps his distance from the other children, who seem carefree and cheerful in a way he struggles to relate to. Instead, he spends most of his time in the orphanageās library, a quiet sanctuary where he finds solace among the pages of books.
Though Noah has a few friends, his relationships are guarded. He rarely initiates conversations and only speaks when prompted, keeping his thoughts and feelings tightly locked away. Yet, beneath his reserved exterior lies a deep intellect and an intense curiosity about the world, which he explores through the stories and knowledge he uncovers in the library.
For Noah, the library isnāt just a place of comfortāitās a refuge, a space where he feels safe to dream of a life beyond his troubled past. Though he may appear distant, those who take the time to understand him find a thoughtful and kind soul waiting beneath the surface.
Phyllis
Phyllis once belonged to a loving family, but like so many others, her life was upended by the ravages of war. Displaced and orphaned, she eventually found herself at Crawford Childrenās Care. The trauma of her past has left her selectively mute, choosing not to speak and instead expressing herself through delicate sketches on a small notepad she carries everywhere. Mother often remarks that Phyllisās drawings are more articulate than spoken words, revealing thoughts and emotions with a depth that surpasses many of the other children.
Among the children at the orphanage, Phyllis is especially close to Noah. She clings to him, sensing in him a kindred spirit who understands her in ways others cannot. Their quiet companionship is built on mutual respect and shared silences, offering both of them a rare sense of comfort in an otherwise chaotic world.
Phyllisās artwork reveals a vivid imagination and a keen awareness of her surroundings. Her drawings often capture hauntingly beautiful scenes of her past, fragmented memories of her family, and fantastical worlds she escapes into. Despite her quiet demeanor, she possesses a resilient heart and an unspoken strength that shines through her art and her actions.
Though she rarely speaks, Phyllis leaves an undeniable mark on those who take the time to understand her, proving that sometimes, the loudest voices are the ones unspoken.
Rowan
Rowan was given up by his biological mother as an infant, left in the care of Mother and the maidens at Crawford Childrenās Care, much like the twins. Unlike his sisters, Rowan lacks their discipline or adventurous spirit. Instead, heās earned a reputation as the orphanage troublemaker, often getting into fights with children outside the home or finding himself at odds with the maidens over broken rules and reckless behavior.
Defiant by nature, Rowan chafes against authority and prefers to live by his own rules. Despite his rebellious streak, he has a strong sense of loyalty and care for those close to him. He actively discourages his friends from mimicking his behavior, not wanting them to face the same trouble he often brings upon himself. Beneath the mischief and bravado lies a boy searching for a sense of belonging, struggling to navigate the emotional scars left by his abandonment.
Rowanās impulsive actions may frustrate those around him, but his fierce loyalty and protective instincts reveal a deeper side to his characterāone that yearns to protect the bonds he has formed, even if he struggles to follow the rules himself.
Damien
Damienās story began in neglect, abandoned and left to fend for himself in a trash bin in a local park. It was Rosie who found him, and she believed it to be a miracleāthis boy bore an uncanny resemblance to her late son. Over time, Damien was taken in and raised by her, growing up under her care and affection. Spoiled by her, he was often guided through a routine that mirrored the one her son used to follow, a pattern that brought her a sense of comfort and continuity.
Though the routine felt repetitive to Damien, he complied, understanding that it made Mother happy. Even if he didnāt always enjoy it, he silently accepted the repetition, knowing that fulfilling her wishes brought her contentment. His own desires and preferences often take a backseat to the need to see Mother smile, a reflection of the unspoken bond he feels toward her despite the weight of the expectations placed on him.
Damienās love for Mother is unconditional, but beneath his compliance, thereās a boy yearning for freedomāa wish that remains quietly hidden beneath the layers of care he provides to ensure her happiness.
Still a work in progress:
Simon
Annie
Morgan
Ernest
Mother and the Doctor
Rosie Bacunawa Crawford
Rosie, known affectionately as "Mother" to the children of Crawfordās Childrenās Care, is the heart and soul of the orphanage. It was her husband who built the home, hoping it would help her heal from the devastating loss of their only son. Devoting herself to the children, Rosie treats each one as if they were her own. She knows every child by name, cherishing their unique personalities and offering them the love and stability she once gave her son.
Though her love is evident, Mother can be strict at times. The children, however, understand that her firmness comes from a place of care and protectionāa sentiment she often expresses to them. āI do this because I love you,ā she frequently reminds them, her words carrying both comfort and conviction.
Since the outbreak of a deadly epidemic, Rosie has taken drastic measures to ensure the safety of her children, confining everyone within the orphanage's walls. While the children remain sheltered, she ventures outside alone, relying on her past experience as a physician to procure supplies and knowledge to keep them safe. Her late husband, the village physician, had taught her much about medicine, and she continues to draw on that knowledge in her relentless effort to protect her found family.
Rosieās resilience and unwavering love make her a pillar of strength for the children, even as she quietly bears the weight of her own grief and the uncertainty of the world beyond the orphanageās gates.
Kollsvein Abelard Crawford
Kollsvein, often referred to simply as "the Doctor," is a man shrouded in stoicism, a figure who commands both respect and fear, especially among the children of Crawford's Childrenās Care. His cold exterior, quiet demeanor, and serious nature make him an intimidating presence to those who don't know him well. Yet, Mother always reassures the children that beneath his seemingly distant and austere personality lies a kind heart and a compassionate mind. To her, he is a man of deep integrity, a doctor who has dedicated his life to easing the suffering of others.
As the primary physician for both the orphanage and the village of Maybellsburg, Kollsvein has established himself as a reliableāif somewhat detachedāmedical professional. He operates his own clinic, where he treats a variety of patients, ranging from the villagers seeking treatment to the children in his care. Though he has the technical skills and expertise to treat, his emotionally distant manner leaves many feeling uneasy, and the children are often unsure of how to approach him. He prefers to focus on his work, speaking little and showing even less emotion, except when his patients' lives are at stake.
But despite his professionalism, something changed the night he left without a word. That was the last time anyone saw him. His sudden disappearance sent ripples of confusion and concern through both the orphanage and the village.
That is all i have to talk about these characters so far, i appreciate your time reading this. Thank you !
"How strange it is to be haunted by something that still walks among us, hidden just beyond reach."
In the quiet countryside of Cinderford, a destitute boy named Kaleb and his loyal dog companion, Kane, stumbles into Maybellsburg, a small town where he earned his keep as a young merchant while surviving an unknown disease epidemic. One day, Kane disappeared into the woods and led him to find him, where he encountered a mysterious girl - Belle, an orphan from Crawford Children's Care. Taken in by the orphanage's caretaker, known only as "Mother." He may get the a roof under his head, with just one unbreakable rule: never step outside. But when Kaleb and Belle snuck out one night to search for Kane, they uncover something in the woods that will haunt them forever.
Welcome to the Ford of the Crows, where I write & draw about "Orphans of Crawford" a sci-fi / fantasy horror. This story is currently a WORK IN PROGRESS so expect at least some changes in the work of this story.
The story of Orphans of Crawford follows Kaleb, an orphan boy whose traveling all over Cinderford and in his journey, he wanted to get Kane back as he is the only thing that his late-family had left him, and soon discovered mysteries within Maybellsburg and the root cause of this unknown, disease epidemic, though many believe it to be a fever or common cold, the truth is far more sinister: when the sick die and are buried, their graves are dug up, and their coffins destroyed. As people investigate, they were only traces of footprints of an unknown creatureā¦ some say they have seen it, but many didn't live the tale to tell what it might've looked like.
Not only we may encounter these but as well as the stories of the orphans in the eyes of Kaleb, as these children were confined to the orphanage ever since the epidemic.
In the next blog post is about the characters that we will be going to be familiar with as the story progresses.
