Recent content by Irene Savashal

The battle down the pass to the blockade was a blood-drenched nightmare. What rest Irene had been able to get while she, Mogrin, Arndel, and Kegbreaker was a godsend, yet still not nearly enough, and she was far from fresh. Thank Regel for the endurance of dwarves; on that account Kegbreaker...

THE TEMPLAR BARRACKS Irene's stern and professional demeanor softened just a bit, eyes opening ever so slightly in receptive surprise, when Kurabh said that he was from the Steppes. The people from whom present-day Gildans were descended, the Turkal people, originated in the Steppes, so all...

THE TEMPLAR BARRACKS Irene and Mogrin moved on from Claire. The girl, in addition to being geographically deficient, had other problems which plagued her after a short conversation brought them to light. Apparently, the "school of magic" she was attending in Alliria catered to those of lesser...

THE TEMPLAR BARRACKS Irene Savashal did not like the practice of Clemency. The only times she even attended the Council of Praetors, even participated in politics, was to speak out against it. But hers was a battle which likely would see no resolution within her lifetime, for the practice of...

Never did those two words in tandem hurt as much as they did now, spoken by Mogrin in this most forsaken of ordeals. A terrible tightness gripped at Irene's breast, a hard swelling at her throat, an awful scratching at the corners of her eyes. She knew the order was undoubtedly for the best...

"MOGRIN, HALT!" Irene bellowed with all the commanding force she could muster. And it was this same force which stabbed back at her as well, its bladed tip like a spear skewering her own heart for what she by circumstance would have to say. Mogrin halted, and then Irene said it: "We will leave...

Irene drew in a breath through her nose. Around them, the desperate fight continued. Time spent on this was, in Regel's honest truth, a waste. Yet handling this improperly, when all of them were relying on the ogres to get out of the pass, could be disastrous. One thing she would not do, could...

"Mogrin..." Irene said, being the first to speak. Her voice was that of a cautious, well-meaning friend, knowing just how dear the issue was to him. "...we can't do that."

"Then my dwarves will be your shield," said Kegbreaker. "As will my Templar," said Arndel. "This is it then," Irene said, deciding on their course of action. "We will make our stand at the bottom of the pass." She had already felt the bite of the unknown with the archers' and crossbowmen's...

Irene nearly lost her footing, nearly stumbled, when Mogrin set her down and her boots touched the ground. A swirl of lightheadedness, rushing through her skull like a gale, made her gasp quietly, stealing in one terrifying moment her strength before, just as swiftly as it had come, it departed...

The wind rushed against Irene's face as she sailed upward. Her hair whipped around behind her. Mogrin had a forceful throw, and her weight was nothing compared to an ogre's, so at the apex of her arc she actually descended back down onto the shelf. Her feet touched solid ground, her seaxes...

Mogrin's hands had, inadvertently, flared up the pain in some of the wounds on her legs, where the bites and stabs of gretches had broken through her light armor and drawn blood. Adept was she at ignoring pain, but she was not miraculous at it. "I am fine, Mogrin," she assured him, not in a...

"Then I'll go myself." She Disrupted another Risen Troll from afar, figuring that was at present the best use of her Praetor power, and then looked up to Mogrin with a determination that could chisel her will into stone. "Throw me up there."

"Curites," Irene spat. Even if the gretches and Trolls were jins, the callousness on display from the Althhaven necromancers was just the sort of thing Irene would expect from a mind addled with magic. Readily did they dispense with their greenskin allies, their usefulness in pinning down the...

"MOGRIN!" The shout of his name ripped his attention away from the horrific magic raising up the dead all around them. She couldn't fault him for it. She couldn't fault any of her fellow Gildans, any of the Templar, many of whom were in that moment stunned with shock and fright. Magic alone was...