“Shhh.” Merinde snapped her hand at Gerard. “Don’t ruin this with words.” She was dressed, from boots to high collared undershirt. Blessed warmth crept into her limbs. The last raiment was the cloak, the fur lined cloak. There were tears in her eyes. She held it before her as if the gown of a queen. That a musty garment could elicit such emotion was not lost on her former self. Continue reading
Again Farrin triggered the release on the Jahnsenn Rod. Nothing.
“What? What is it?” Horil could feel the tension in his frame.
“The mechanism isn’t working,” he said, “Let’s give it a moment, and I’ll try it again.”
A moment did nothing. Neither did ten, or thirty. Horil started climbing. Continue reading
Further examination of the Calishite revealed that he was deceased for some few hours at least, and although Marcus had not witnessed every subversive means to fake death, the severity of this neck injury was without a doubt irreparable by any but the most divine intervention. In addition, he had been stripped down to his under clothing, with anything of value having been removed.
Zulian’s angled eyes gave Katarina an appraising glance from face to foot and back again, as if assessing her motives. She then turned her head slightly and caught Erellia’s eye.
“Katarina, priestess of Trymeya,” Erellia offered before returning to her work with Vanris. Continue reading
“Have you ever been on an anchor at impact?” the navigator asked.
“We have not,” Jorey responded for the group.
“I have,” Sputter said, but he was daft. No one paid him much attention.
“Well then you might get your chance this dawning.” The lean man contemplated the projection of the archouranos revolving before him. The dimensional map of the orbiting sky islands was a navigator’s most valuable tool. “Difficult time to be crossing the Titan’s wedge.” Continue reading
“Climb, up there?” Merinde was shouting over the wind as the freezing rain pelted down. In all likelihood, she would have been screaming even if the weather was tranquil. “I can’t even feel my fingers, and you want me to climb that?”
Her sodden finger pointed into a murky defile of rock overhead. The natural chimney looked unpromising, but Gerard was insistent. “I know how it looks. I’ve been here before. Watch.” Continue reading
“Nonsense. We carry on as planned.” Farrin’s confidence was warming. Not as warming as the resistance spells Horil had cast to keep them from freezing to death, but she knew every bit helped. Checking her mental register, she was confident their temperature wards would hold until they were at safer altitudes. She wasn’t so sure about the wind shields.
Farrin was looking around with such zeal, he broke her train of thought and forced her to hold on. “What are you doing?” she said.
“Looking for dragons,” he replied, “Perhaps we could negotiate transport.” Continue reading
Kurn gave a slow blink and shift of attention toward the boisterous warrior. His eyes opened and surveyed the man, Kurn’s disapproval of the boasting tempered by the blood that adorned the man’s greatsword. Kurn turned to Cheskith, in step with the return to Erellia’s shelter, and shrugged, glad that the conflict had ended and showing he cared little for such calls made in its wake.
Kurn reached the shelter and put the riding saddle under its canopy. He caught the eye of Haron and was briefly amused at the open amazement in Haron’s eyes that Kurn was on his feet after such an engagement, though Kurn knew he looked a poor sight. “One of the pack horses is now for riding again.” Kurn tipped his head toward the recovered saddle. He looked up and down Haron as if checking the boy for injury from several paces distance, and was relieved to see he had suffered none. He gave an acknowledging glance to the others of Erellia’s party, sparing no smile but glad they were all well nevertheless. Continue reading
Merinde turned and dry heaved along the trail again. Deep painful chucks that ended with her surprise at the lack of internal organs splayed at her feet. ‘By the gods she was out of shape!’ her mind crowed. She was sure she would pay the price for last year’s sloth with a kidney.
The game trail was doing little to facilitate a smooth journey, though the narrow defile was more promising than the rest of the rugged terrain surrounding them. She had regurgitated her light breakfast shortly into what became a rather intense dash across the landscape. Merinde would have been angry with Gerard but for two things. One, anger required effort, and two, that damn Halfling was barely breaking a sweat! Continue reading
Horil was furious. So much so that she quivered in silence for a few moments before letting the pressure release. “If you’ve forgotten the count.” She bit into each word, resisting the urge to bite directly into Farrin. “After all the calculation, after chucking every unnecessary piece of weight. If you don’t remember how many times we’ve tumbled, I may just have to kill you and carry on alone.”
Farrin let her vent. He needed her focussed, and anger was the most efficient method. “No, wait, I’ve got it,” he said, balancing her emotional state once more, “Number five was when my shoulder went. There was one before this, and now this one. We shall call number seven, the belt of gaseous form!” Continue reading
“Can you handle the wagon?” Borlak asked of Katarina, “I will ride ahead a bit and see if I can find a safe route.”
He hurried Galagina ahead with practiced agility. Heels administered a sharp tap to her withers, prompting the horse to step smartly forward and a bit to the right; a slight, follow-up tug on the reins brought the well-trained horse to a halt.
The barbarian secured the reins to the saddle’s pommel whilst taking up his shield; best to guide the horse with just his legs. A few practiced motions secured the shield to his left forearm, and he rested his now-free right hand on the grip of his sword. He glanced back to ensure that Katarina was ready to proceed before starting toward the eastern edge of Westerly. Continue reading