Recent content by Pomrick Bloomsfield

Pomrick felt as if he was sweating out the tears that should have come from his eyes. Huffing and puffing, he was lugging along a mountain of equipment, clutching several straps for dear life: Shovels and spades, crowbars, an hourglass dangling around his neck, spare bags filled with stone...

Pomrick rose, poked by the staff like a boneless ragdoll. His shoulders slumped even with his ascension, as if still sagging down towards his previous position. Why did nothing ever seem to work out for him? With a heavy sigh, he mumbled: "Krellos . . . His name is . . . Krellos Thunderbeard."...

A volunteer? When the other students parted for him, staring at him with various levels of incredulity, it clocked for him. Somehow, those fickle gods of ill luck had decided to play a terrible prank on him today, and cause Kikwi, the Kenku teacher, to single him out. ...What.... What...

Pomrick blinked - one eye twitching before the other, bearing to mind the look of a glazed frog. Oh, no. This had really backfired. He was getting more attention. From one otherworldly graceful student to another, deep pools of gold observing him coolly. If he mucked this up, he wouldn't hear...

Pomrick blinked at Fea's quip. Had she addressed him? No one ever addressed him. One second. Two seconds. Awkwardness swelled and bloomed between him and the young-looking elf before him, his mouth quivering in an attempted (and abysmal) smile. Quick, Pomrick, think of something witty to say...

With sword and staff pointed both in his direction, some deeper part of Pomrick revived his ability to speak. He scrambled to pick up the orb, about to put it back into its satchel - but realised it wouldn't work much as a container any longer. Instead, he held the orb up before them. Fear may...

His prayer resulted in the sail lifting off from him, unloading all the bustle, sights and smells of Grayshore once again with renewed vigour. For a long, agonising pause, Pomrick stood stock still - a deer caught by hunters, hoping not to be seen. The clawed finger poking his cheek caused...

Pomrick stared down at his feet. Bugger all. He was right. His legs did stick out. Promptly adjusting his sheet to cover up his legs, he swayed on the spot, indecisive on his next course of action. Indeed, the sail managed to puff out with more confidence in the little bit of stray wind from the...

Mud suckled up the lace of Pomrick's boot, greedily slurping down his misplaced step. His imagination almost led him to think of teeth hidden in the mud, piercing the leather, like those gargantuan jaws that still seemed to haunt his sleep-addled brain, before he quickly pulled his leg free and...

The clap of shutting doors pinged against Pomrick's consciousness, like a pebble dropped inside a deep well. A hurried whisper of a voice soon followed, further disturbing the waters of his placid mind. "Pomrick. Pomrick - wake up." Pomrick stirred. He was having the strangest dream - all...