It was a cloudy day over Saanazar, but the rain never came. Glad to relax with her friends—off her feet—Niamh sat on the Temple green and finished a generous slice of rye bread. It had been a couple of weeks since the robbery of the carved lockbox—a long, emotional, and fruitless couple of weeks. To everyone’s horror, two bodies had turned up in the basement of the house on Calinar Road. Long dead, they had been assumed to be the actual relatives of Archpriest Roithe. Continue reading Niamh 4
A few weeks after the Whalestone Jail job, Adrix’s squad was tasked with guarding a merchant’s warehouse until his ship returned to carry the goods off toward their destination. Then a Company ship would guard the vessel all the way along its voyage. For the next month, Tirak worked the beat, patrolling the warehouse during his shift and carousing the bars and brothels with his comrades-in-arms during his downtime. In the evenings, Tirak went out in search of trouble. Continue reading East Storm Company 18
The man called Soot was just leaving the Iron Palace when Aralim caught up with him. He waved for the Walker to join him behind his small escort of guards, so the guards let Aralim pass. They had already seen each other the night before—at the memorial that had been arranged for the just passed Greatfather Athanu. It had not been an occasion to discuss spy-craft, though, and Aralim had deemed the morning after a better fit. Continue reading Aralim 157
Arn sighed for the third time and leaned back against the wood-beam wall of Drowen’s meeting chamber. Dressed in a baggy green tunic, Arn marvelled at how far he had come. Aside from his scars, his muscles, and the occasional bubbling reminder of Gamden, little remained of the Arn that had fought his fellow tribesmen tooth and nail. But even this version of Arn was impatient when made to wait on the burly warlord’s business. Continue reading Arn 78
Aralim was only half-lucid when he saw a shift in Tag’na’s decayed chest. First, it began to fill again with some substance more than bones and tattered remnants of skin. As muscles slowly formed in his arms, colour began to return to his shoulders and chest. Aralim had no idea what time it was, but—judging from his own exhaustion—it was well after sunrise. Continue reading Aralim 156
At least the Imperial Highway was direct. In some places, it was tunneled straight through the errant ridges of the Iron Mountains. The manpower involved must have been substantial, though Nilless—from her city of towers—was less impressed than Aralim. The Aura, like their quiet shadow, did not weigh in on the discussion. Continue reading Aralim 155
Most of Mavri’s scrapes and bruises from that strange ordeal healed by the middle of the month, but the gash on her thigh started to show signs of infection. Normally, the healing of such a wound would be handled by one of the senior magicians in the Company: Master Kelren, Relis, or Eltha. With the former two absent on a secret mission, the latter had her hands completely busy. Mavri’s treatment fell to a lesser spellcaster from the ranks, a mercenary named Arrela. Continue reading East Storm Company 17
After praying for the poor families in the neighborhood of Veln Borough, Niamh and her kin followed the road out and climbed Red Maraz Hill. A group of children, familiar with the comings and goings of the Atmos Septi, started kicking their lamb stomach around the group, whooping and cheering whenever one of the priests or priestesses kicked it back. Niamh put the sadness she had experienced conversing with that widow behind her—as well as the mystery of the strange box carried by their senior priest, Tolleo—and smiled as she returned the ball to the children, while hiking up her grey skirts to run about the street with them. For a few moments, she and Miril played keep-away with them—and fairly successfully—before they left the vicinity the group called home, and the children branched off to play their game without the well-meaning clergy. Continue reading Niamh 3
“Ah, you came back…” Nolicrin muttered, staring from the door of his Hall at the group that loitered at the edge of the open shrine area.
Standing among them, Therelin felt the master magician’s eyes prying at his. He took a deep breath and then stepped out from Maia and Kren. Maia had been kind enough to offer them a cot on the floor of her grandfather’s house—where she stayed—but it had left Therelin stiff. And all his conversations with her at the bar the night before had only reminded him how important it was to piece together the puzzle he had begun to comprehend. The unimpressed master mage standing at the door might very well be holding the missing piece. Continue reading Therelin 44
The docks of Saanazar appeared beneath Therelin’s sandals with a scuffing sound. The smell of seaweed and fish was immediate, while the clang of ships’ bells and churning waves soon filled his confused ears. As they hurried out of the harbour, Kren asked one of the dockworkers for the date. They got a strange look, but a prompt response—no more time had passed than they had expected. Each time they Journeyed, Therelin worried that he would reappear long after Tarro’s conquests had ended. Continue reading Therelin 43