Recent content by Evaine

"Their bloody Sunfather," said the Anirian, fishing a large religious book from a satchel and tossing it none-too-gently toward Ispir, "read up. You've got a week to get familiar." The book itself was the Scriptures of Radiance, a tome of the Radiant Church's holy histories and the Sunfather's...

A foil to the man's malaise of defeat, the Dreadlord stood in nothing other than the silent surety of one who had lived to see many successes and victories. Or at the very least, cared not at all for her own losses and defeats. One had to value things for their loss to mean anything, didn't...

An arm reached across without any pardon to take up the oar hooked into the side of the boat to Ispir's right. The Dreadlord waited for no word from the others as they pushed off from the dock and she rowed them wordlessly out into the bay where their ship awaited. Her compatriots did not seem...

"No," replied the woman without missing a beat. She wasn't even looking at him. Her? It didn't really matter. Her boots pressed on in much the same way they always would. From one mission to the next. One destination to another. No distractions, just the goal. Pausing only as a carriage drove...

"Shut the fuck up." The Dreadlord did not even raise her voice, such was the quietude that had settled in the old man's defeat. He'd bested near an entire troupe - they had no right to make demands when they'd gone scattering from the alley in fright of him. Honor wasn't what leashed the blade...

The vestiges of speed and strength left to him as he swung that halberd would have shocked a lesser being. As a tool of the Anirian Empire from childhood, Evaine expected it. The swing. The feint. And a myriad other possibilities of options at his whim. The weapon carved upward, aimed directly...

Words pelted after her and bounced off her in the same way that raindrops did when hitting duckback oiled canvas. Evaine either was not listening or did not particularly care what the bard had to say, and very nearly bowled the child-sized not-child over when he stepped in front of her. She...

"What is this?" the Dreadlord remarked openly, bluntly, and gestured at Ispir Sione. Her hard gaze landed upon the bard like a cinder block and with about as much empathy as one, too. "Your translator." "It's a child." "It speaks the language." "This is a joke." "I didn't think Dreadlords had...

In Malakath daemons were a non-concern. They were hunted by the very same thing that ate Dreadlords as a snack. Evaine briefly imagined Crimson stalking through the town, massive clawed feet stomping through the wooden houses like sticks, its great bloodied skull snapping up the villagers with...

"Then you haven't lived," Evaine replied flatly as she tucked her wheaten blond hair back into a low tie and pulled the cowl of the robes over her head. It was less to hide her identity than it was simply to remain inconspicuous. She'd seen plenty of these Priests and Priestesses milling about...

Of all the places to be sent. Of all the half-baked plans. In the quiet corner of an enemy city, breaking the neck of some unsuspecting Radiant Church nun and stuffing her body into a fish barrel. How did she go from surviving the wilds of Arethil's most untamed and monstrous lands to gutting...

Two minutes was about the amount of time necessary for the Dreadlord to check over her horse and take stock of her current supplies. Rations were adequate after a few nights of successful hunts. Fire starter was running a bit low, and though she was sure the other Guardsmen likely had their own...

Evaine stood in calm quiet, unsmiling as she slowly pulled her hands free of her riding gloves tucked the effects neatly into the loop of her horse's breastcollar. Though the Dreadlord made no eye contact with the man, she was listening. To him. To the scuffling men. Just a silent mountain...

These were not lands that held any familiarity. Situated far from what once was home and between what felt two separate lives, a Dreadlord cut an unhurried pace along the road at the back of her party. Dubbed Captain Cutthroat for the stories told of her adventures far across the southern sea in...