Recent content by Olem

The Lord Marshall turned towards Olem without a word. Both of them knew that this wasn't going to go anywhere else, and both of them knew the Dreadlord had no legal argument to make. "I will go." He said with a wave. "But watch her." There was an uneasiness in his chest. He knew he shouldn't...

"She is." Olem countermanded almost immediately, his tone leaving absolutely no room for discussion. Though there would surely be one. "What evi-" "Lord Marshall, the woman turned my horse into ash. I assure you she is the one I sought." In the old days none of this would have mattered. In...

"Two days." Olem couldn't help but frown at the words, though he knew the Marshall would be doing his best. The man seemed keen enough on the law, and though he might have wanted to press the Dreadlord knew that he couldn't. Not if he wanted to stay true. "Is there anyway to do it sooner?" He...

The Lord Marshall looked dubious to say the least, his features flickering from the Dreadlord to the woman slung over his shoulder. There was no denying who Olem was, the man didn't even try, but there was the question of who the woman was. "I assure you, Lord Marshall." The man held up a hand...

It was not long before Olem and Maura were approached by what looked to be a figure of authority. He wore thick, but worn leathers, a sword hung on his hip and a small badge sat clipped to his shoulder. Both of the Dreadlords would recognize what the man was instantly of course; a local Anirian...

He walked for most of the day. It was not until sundown that the road began to take the form of cobbles and the sickly scent of burning cedar began to fill the air. On the horizon a small village appeared, just a few dozen buildings but large enough to have an Inn. A part of Olem was more than...

Olem chuckled. ”Gold? What would I do with gold?” Unlike many other Dreadlords, he had grown up actually believing the stories told to them by the Proctors. While many were just in it for themselves, for glory or for wealth, Olem had always been fighting for Vel Anir. He did not want wealth or...

"A heedless stratagem." Olem said simply. It was not as though the Republic didn't know what she was. They had sent him out here specifically to find her after all. She was a fugitive, a murderer. That was why he had come in the first place. Were she one of those who had simply tried to seek...

Olem's arm did not move from around Maura as she squirmed atop his shoulder. Fingers digging in just to make sure she did not slip free. "I lift weights." The words were said in such a deadpan tone that it was difficult to tell whether or not he was joking. In truth of course, Olem wasn't much...

Olem’s chest steadily rose and fell. His eyes closed for a brief moment, entirely obscured by the helmet which hid his face. Slowly he took in a deep breath, head shaking as he flipped up the visor which concealed him. The soft padded palm of his glove rubbed over his features for just a brief...

It was the snap of a branch which turned Olem’s head. One of the figures shuffling forward through the woods stepping upon a fallen stick., The Knight’s head whirled around almost instantly, fingers slipping free from the bounds of the fallen Dreadlord just as one of the Skeletons lashed out...

The woman fell into the grasp of the Absys, and Olem's final punch stopped just short of her cheek. Lips thinned beneath the mask of his helmet, his gauntlet slowly unfurling as he drew himself back and away from the other Dreadlord. His eyes watched her carefully, peering at her form as he...

Fighting, as he had learned throughout his years, was most often not about finesse. Martial arts and such things were useful of course, and all that the Academy had taught him had certainly never been tossed aside. Yet Olem had long ago realized that getting the edge in battle was more often...

"Anybody feel like we just got pushed to where they wanted us to go?" The words echoed out from the Initiates lips, and Olem couldn't help but agree. Whatever those shadows were had herded them like cattle into this fortress. A darkness seemed to lay all around them, catching within the air and...

Olem moved as fast as he could. He tried to spring the magic within his armor, but he knew that it wouldn't be enough. The plate he wore was meant for fighting, for beating down opponents and cutting through swaths of the enemy. A foot-race was not his intended. The Knight darted forward, but...