Welcome to the Dispatch! Wherein I, Ian Dunmore, craft tales and share grounded stories of adventure and glory, joy and tragedy in a world of epic, high fantasy.
Pack your pike, load your matchlock, and stow your pouch of salt against all species of spirit or monster. Whether you’re here to catch a cursed play, fall in love, flee the law, or slay a serpent, you’ll find it here at Dunmore Dispatch!
This page is your navigation guide!
General Info
To learn more about me and my projects, check out my About page.
To see my archive, visit my Table of Contents.
Dunmore Fiction
I’m deeply grateful to a dear friend who wrote the following homage to my work, which does a great job describing much of what I strive for.
Beyond this, every story of mine is set in the same world and is standalone, so can be read in any order.
You’ll find stories in the following categories:
Pick your favorite, or see where the wind takes you!
Dunmore Nonfiction
In addition, I do work discussing the craft of writing, genre, and occasionally get into protracted text debates with my editor and friend. Take the following, for example:
Recommendations
Unsure where to jump in? Here are a few of my best by readers’ votes:
To God's Tower by Dawn
‘Twas the Eve of the Feast of Hall’d Ioska. The sun was setting, the last of its rays striking the pinnacle tower of Ocather’s grand tower, built upon a stone tidal island rising in the midst of the brackish bay separated from the mainland. The tower adjoined to a citadel, now a monastery. Smaller chapels, cloisters, …
Wyrmslayer
On the day the hunters arrived, the green ocean turned and the clouds drew lower until the isle’s mountainous peaks vanished about the gray curtain. Beads of chill rain ornamented the dark conifers among the basalt cliffs and promontories birthed by the volcano long ago. The month was Ecchinus and the summer constel…
The Wolf-Man's Trail
He knew there were wolves in the Nierpin Mountains. The broad peaks rose before him dark and stony and wet with frigid spring rains that gathered between the spurs and surged down into the valleys. For all of Langei’s life they had existed on the horizon. Now he found himself at their feet. He knew there …
The Ghost's Theatre
The play was called The Tragedie of Caligar d’Montreno, and it was said to be cursed. The completed manuscript was found lying next to its author, the late renowned playwright Eugel Menninwise, who had written the final monologue then driven his dirk into his eye and all the way to the hilt. His whole self he bled onto those pages… in more ways than one…
