Recent content by Ashvyr Justinian

Stolen from the vestiges of death, the men and women were unimpeded by their wounds. They were, for soulless bodies, moved surprisingly fast, and all were still armed with weapons held in a death grip. Their glowing eyes focused with eerie indifference on the three who had slain them all. The...

After the howls of and cries of a murderous battle turned slaughter, the silence was suffocating. A warhound nearby, nearly cut in half, whimpered, and the sound seemed to echo as a tranquil wind carried it across the ruined battleground. Moonlight gave a silver sheen to the blood cast over the...

With a howl the brute rushed Justin. Hands, already numb with cold, blackened and cracked as the spell of ice took greater hold. Still, they were aimed for Justin’s throat, and would have taken hold if the knight had met him or stood still, but he did not. With a grace and impeccable timing...

Sweeping through the ranks of experienced brigands, seasoned highwaymen, and common thieves alike, Justinian’s movements never ceased nor faltered. Every act initiated was one never made in waste. It was like watching a perfectly choreographed dance of intricate timing and complex routine. As he...

People were running now, some of them screaming in terror… or in death as an arrow or vampire blade blew them apart. Not all were so wise as to flee, though; there were many who stood their ground with varied weapons in hand. Torches waved signals in the air with voiced commands to stand, stand...

They were very different, these three who dared hunt the brigands. Askandr seemed a juggernaut, stepping resolutely forward even as arrow after arrow raced towards him. Despite even those that hit their mark at his joints and other vulnerable gaps in his armor, he never slowed, never stumbled...

Fuck you, too, Justin thought as he watched the vampire and witch frolic off into the woods. He tightened the clasp of the cape he wore, a light blue fabric as pristine as his armor. He checked his gear briefly, making sure all was at hand and prepared before following his new acquaintances. He...

Askandr and Josai. Committing the names to memory, Justin turned to his horse. Patting the beast on the neck he removed one of the burdens the animal carried – a masterfully crafted piece of armor; a gilded, silver-toned steel helm. It was clearly made for an honored knight, and Justin handled...

Squire? Justinian frowned, thinking to correct the creature, who, it appeared, was indeed a vampire thirsting for blood. A daft vampire. Then, as with many things, Justin decided it didn’t matter. Squire. Suddenly Justin smiled and then laughed. Perhaps to the surprise of the others it wasn’t a...

Justin said nothing as he tried to figure out who was talking to her before deciding it didn’t matter. Nor did he much care. But it appeared he had made a solid misjudgment on the bloodlust of his two new acquaintances; neither seemed willing to move further. The shadowy figure did emerge...

Oh. It talked. And apparently wanted him to leave. Again Justin sighed, this time more to himself, weighing the consequences of the many options open to him. He could initiate a battle and kill the brute – or get killed himself, whatever – or run away like as sensible person, or… well, damn it...

Moonlight shafted over the boughs of countless trees, lighting Justinian’s path as he rode his horse through the woods. There was a soft breeze, bitterly cold yet refreshing too, keeping him awake as Pebbles trotted faithfully along, nickering once or twice as its head stooped here and there to...

Without moving his head, Justinian glanced around with his peripheral vision. There were many other people in the bar, but as far as he could see only Thandren and himself were marked fighters who might be able to deal with this angry brute. Hand tight around the handle of his sword, Justinian...

Remaining silent as Thandren Kraise spoke, Justinian swirled the drink in his glass. The ice chilling the cider clinked against the sides, a chime that couldn’t be heard above the commotion in the inn. He took a sip, enjoying the bitter taste of alcohol mingling with the sweet taste of apple and...

Although the voices within the Inn were many, forming into quite a mess of noise, Justinian was experienced in picking out sounds. Words and certain syllables strung together were no exception to this skill. So as he heard the affirmation and name repeated, he turned in exactly the right...