Recent content by Monroe

"The melee doesn't start for another hour, and half the fun in these tournaments is making new friends." Monroe could not stop the scrunching of her face at such a suggestion of making friends, but anyone that knew the Knight Sworn would know she was not one to turn away a drink. Of course, the...

She scowled from her seat upon his shoulders, gritting her teeth hard and her jaw setting with a fierceness. None had seen Syr Cathmore so perturbed by someone. She had expected him to simply carry her in his arms, for she would have simply grumped easily and simply ignore him in that position...

The person that had bumped into her didn't so much as knock her, the dawnling knight quick to steady herself on her feet, and turn to scowl at the young man. She noted his accent, Anirian, but with quick assessment knew him to not be part of the famed Dreadlords. He had a sword, of course, but...

She had lost the small group of Knights of the Order that roped her into viewing the wood chopping event, but none of the competitors had the visually stimulating art of the handsome men that participated in the charity festival held not too long ago at the monastery. Of course, it had been her...

"Name's Gunner! Looks like we're paired up for this one. Don't worry, I won't drop you-- I've got a great grip!" There was a coldness to her stare as they traveled over the overly friendly participant, and straight past him to look at Saskia at her left side. The dawnling was quite, for her...

Three days? That meant two days alone with the young Knight, and already she felt overwhelmed at the idea of taking over talking Byanka calmly through this. She was afraid to say the wrong thing when Faramund knew the right things to say and ask. "If you leave the Order, I do not doubt they...

Pain and swelling kept her from answering normally. Her scarf had been lost at some point, leaving her neck exposed to the elements. She shivered now, only distracted a moment to not have her fiery magicks keeping her warm. Bruises started to stain the fair skin of her neck, but Monroe managed a...

Faramund took charge in asking the questions Monroe did not think to ask, or rather, was unsure of where to start. She was grateful that he had fatefully appeared when he had at dawn, and that he accepted despite doubting his own capability in handling this. Monroe knew he was the right choice...

Monroe had been about to speak, to ask Faramund a question that soon died behind her lips as Byanka returned. She kept her seat, angling her head to peer at the dusker and determine what had happened in that bedchamber. At least she did not look too distraught, a sign that her father had not...

No one spoke of how much the lungs burned so soon after it was stolen of breath; when the air came racing back, like ice stabbing the walls of her throat and chest. Monroe winced, rolled over onto her front to catch whatever breath tried to fill her body with snow dusting. Her eyes watched as...

Monroe followed Faramund, who trailed behind Byanka and the butler leading them to the bedchambers of Lord Valkas. She lingered by the end of the hall, watching as Faramund too stayed back and assured Byanka they would wait for her. The butler nodded to them each as he left, and Monroe's fists...

There was a certain atmosphere clinging to these haunted halls of the manor, something that seemed to keep Monroe uncertain with every step following Byanka and the butler. She made no move to speak, or to share a quiet glance to Faramund. The dawnling felt as if she would ingest the sickness...

Monroe raised her brows, impressed by the estate the Lord Valkas kept. "You grew up here?" She asked. It was something stately, well kept, and perhaps more orderly than the large home she had grown up in. They rode up until the receiving party, a representative patiently waiting for the...

Pitiful. It had been her favourite event she looked forward to, other than the wrestling component, but not many had mastered the art. One even threw actual hammers. Monroe was truthful when it came to scoring each competitor, as she would be throughout this ridiculous competition. More wine...

Monroe kept her mouth shut, listening and observing Byanka and Faramund. He was right to say she could make it her own, just as Monroe made Cathmore her own. It was her reminder of what happened to the township named after her family. One day she would make right what happened to the sea side...