Recent content by Amalric Urahil

Bright beads of rain ran down Threnn’s hair, his tanned face, and on down his coat of chainmail; the coruscating cascade turning his champagne hair to limp strands that hung across his eyes, his burnished, blue eyes. Blue eyes that watched the world with a wild, run-a-muck optimism, in stark...

“Oh, um, sure.” Threnn grasped the handle of the lantern and held it high, squinting at the rusted portcullis. The chill from the wind seeped into his bones. A coldness, sapping, and something beyond coldness. He looked wide eyed at Accolon, wondering what exactly his sardonic friend planned...

Blond brows arched above merry eyes, shimmering with an unabashed enthusiasm for life. Somehow, the spark of wonder had not been squeezed out of the youth, despite the Academy’s best efforts. They blamed it on his lowborn peasant blood. Resiliently thick headed. “Hang on,” Threnn followed...

Fingers curled tight around the reins 'til they bled white. His horse stamped beneath him, unsettled by the smell of carnage. Threnn felt his stomach roil, threatening to make him retch. Bile crept into his throat. He coughed, pretending it was because of the lingering smoke and stench of...

What could she have possibly meant by that? Separate teams in case it was darker within? Perplexed and stymied, young Threnn did work his jaw and lo did his lips open and shut, open and shut - a fish gasping for air on the beach. The wind tore through, disrupting his thoughts. He turned...

Black smoke. Wretched smoke. Smoke that choked and seared. Coughing, hacking, stifling smoke. And a heat that burned. Sweltering. Consuming. All-engulfing inferno. Memories. Memories locked away. Not like hoarded coins, but like boarded windows in a haunted home. Ghosts within. It's not real...

“I didn’t realize Dreadlords were expected to be investigators,” said Threnn, wide eyed as he watched the others roam about inspecting burnt out fires and studying the stones for answers. He looked around then kind of just sat down on a nearby bit of moss-covered rubble. “I was only ever...

"I hope it's not monsters," mumbled Threnn. He pulled down the hood of his chain coif and shook his head, allowing wavy strands of wheat-gold hair to tumble free. He already held his helmet in one hand and started tying it to his belt. "Gods, this is hot." Cold and damp it might be, but in...

Goblins, as it happened, did have rather keen eyesight at night. Consequently, when Rob saw a figure shambling away toward the tree line he made sure to point it out to the slightly terrifying elf who led this little warband. “One of ‘em is gettin’ away.” He pointed at the retreating figure of...

The villagers shivered with fear, huddled in a circle, firelight from their burning huts illuminating their terror-streaked faces. One of the men started to stand. Rob encouraged him to sit down with the hilt of his falchion. It made a solid thud, bone against steel. The fellow crumpled to the...

Threnody sighed and pulled down the hem of his hood a little bit further. He had hoped to do this without having to go too far into Alliria proper. Standing, the sorcerer made his way out of the tavern and into the night air. Some time later, he found himself pushing open the door to the...

“There he is.” A whisper of thought against thought, the trace of a finger light touch. The smooth sliding of scales against skin in Fane’s mind. “The rabid wolf we have awaited. Held back with naught but sheer will. Straining against those thought-links.” The words slithered into the...

Threnody’s slitted pupils stared back, emotionless. “What is a balloon?”

Threnody is more of an advisor than a street gang type so he could be an affiliate