Recent content by Bexley Pirian

"Depends on what our friend ends up doing." Bexley looked to Marcia then, seeing the illusions she casted change the Initiate's facial features, but as the spellcaster, she was able to see past her own work and stare into her eyes. "Gathering information always. That is the lead of our work."...

A smile grew on Bexley's expression, proud and unafraid to show the Initiate her thoughts. "You have impeccable instincts, Initiate." She set the glass down in the middle of the table, dropping coins to pay for it before standing. Bexley did not say another word, did not invite Marcia to...

"Lyford..." Bexley repeated, trying to place where she had heard the name from. She stared at Marcia, only by way of appearing as if they were having a conversation amongst themselves, but at the conclusion of Wilcott's meeting, the Dreadlord turned to take a drink from the glass. Her...

Bexley's hand did not even falter. Her hand gripped the glass so still, the contents did not tilt with movement. In fact, her eyes were trained on the Initiate. With her own magic, a tableau of Lady Wilcott played in her mind, as if her eyes were upon the Lady after all, and not the Initiate...

Bexley surveyed the Initiate with a passive expression. "I did not expect you to be looking at the details, but it gives you something to think about in the future. On any track and report mission, memory recall becomes important once it comes to the report. Luckily, we can fill the stones...

Bexley shrugged. "She is rich enough to have vendors come to her home, but to spend such a time outside her home to find something to her tastes? My money would be on she is looking for a gift, for someone at home she does not want to know or see..." Such riches were not exactly her expertise...

Track and report, that was more or less what her missive stated when she had read it. Bexley drew up the hood to her leather jacket enough that it did not block most of her peripherals, waiting for the partner they assigned her for such a mundane task. If this had been the old days, she would...

Bexley listened. She had a better time connecting with others that possessed a warrior's spirit, someone that understood her troubles as she would understand their's. Brett's upbringing perhaps was the first encounter of someone that age not seen in the Academy. She saw the boy as free, lucky...

Something foreign stirred within her as she watched Arryn praise the boy, regarding the young one with a strange affection that only pulled at her heart. No... not yearning... or craving... but another word. Without. It did not sate her wondering, but to Bexley she had never known such...

Bexley knew that Brett took to his training with great approach. He was skilled for a boy his age, perhaps could even teach Initiates his age a thing or two, and it was obvious that Arryn cared for the boy enough to train him to surpass him one day. That feint almost caught her off guard...

Bexley need not look to Arryn. She was not a complete monster, she knew Brett was not an Initiate in need of being taught, but a boy, and innocent boy. Perhaps she knew the look the Captain would use looking upon her, a mage made of war and greed, honed by ruthlessness and might. It would be a...

Bexley only took two steps before turning around. A child looked to her with wonderment, something she remembered doing as a younger Initiate when magic surrounded her in different arrays of strains. Her own magic had been something of a delight to explore, to nurture, and to wield to whatever...

Her face was torn between emotions, so easily displayed on her face for Arryn to try and interpret. She could not let down her family, she could not let down the king who had selected her as his choice in daughter-in-law. But before she could appeal to the Captain, a young voice broke her from...

Bexley sniffed, conjuring another cool, clean cloth and offering it to him. "The King himself chose me for this union... I..." Bexley cut Arryn a look. "You do not know the pressure that is on me when I see my family smiling at me finally, after years of growing up a weapon." Beneath it all...

"Please, call me Bexley. I have been Dreadlord longer than I have been titled Lady..." Honesty. She had not truly cared to be called a Lady even with being born into a noble family, and with the Revolution and making amends with her Pirian family, she had insisted on Bexley. She conjured a...