Recent content by Rainer

The journey between the armory and her room was a blur of frenetic embraces, moved more by a sudden upwelling of repressed hunger rather than any inclinations of desperation. He had come to this Keep with the full intent of respecting the distance they had imposed on one another, giving ample...

His expression canted as she pressed a hand against him, keeping him at just enough distance to halt what could have happened otherwise. Like a creature hearing a tone unfamiliar to him, his disposition had veered clear of meek and into the territory where consideration for others seemed to not...

Fairchild smiled as he leaned against the table, elbows locked. "I sometimes forget you hunters aren't much more than sellswords." He lifted his hand before Rain could respond. "Burdened by righteous purpose and dogmatic principles, of course." He leaned back and stood straight, looking down at...

He had things he needed to tell her. Things about what he discovered in the grotto, deep in woods North of Fal’Addas. Things like the secrets, ferried deep beneath within the limestone caverns, guarded by cultists in confines constructed of fire. He needed to tell her that he was worried about...

Rain lifted a glance towards the wooden beams above, watching the shadows of clouds and fog crawl across the silhouette of the light, passing through the crossbeams of the lofted windows. If he could distract himself enough from the animalistic tendency to get offended or slighted at most...

“Yeah…” Rain lifted a hand to his face and scratched the top of his nostril. “Yeah. I tried that.” “What do you mean you tried?” “Trust me. I’ve tried burning it. Multiple times. By camp, by magic. Nothing works.” “You tried burning this before you brought it here?” Rain nodded as he dropped...

It wasn’t the reunion he had anticipated, begrudged by Beocca’s presence, but perhaps that was simply because he had elevated his expectations beyond reason. Not a word, hardly a glance, and the sounds of her steps walking away from him. And where he would have normally felt compelled to follow...

Beocca may have been speaking to Rain but the hunter's attention was removed from the Warden and was entirely focused on Wren. Seeing her now, it brought him an unexpected relief that paled any comfort that might have been gained by sitting at the hearth. Relief in her presence, regret for the...

“A big fucking set of walls…” Fairchild repeated somberly as he nodded. “That’s an apt description if I’ve ever heard one.” “Oh I’m sorry…” Rain piped up, standing up straight and crossing his arms. “Have you not met Gannis? He’s nothing if not full of apt descriptions.” “I’m seeing that now.”...

“They are more than just grimoires or books bound in skin, they are the brass that forms the key. And as a key is much more, from bow to bit, so too is our endeavor. But ours is the most righteous of efforts. Without the key, we cannot open the door. And behind the door leads us on towards the...

“It was once an outpost for the Noct Yaegirs. A staging point and resource for hunters chasing monsters along the Gulf of Ryt, when turning back to Crobhear was too severe a trek…” Rain replied as he stepped through the threshold. “It was quite a bit more than that…” Fairchild replied as he...

You can feel it, can you not? The swell, like the way the water recedes from the shore, just before the next big wave crashes down. And you…you are nothing more than the sand, a singular grain, crushed and pulverized into something approaching useless. But I suspect I’m not much more. The...

“To the tavern, yes. To the Den…no.” He replied as they descended downward. Lifting his hands to his neck, he pulled the braided chain up and over his head, proceeding to wrap the chain around his fist. Between his thumb and finger rested a medallion, gleaming dully in the low light. “Ironic...

“You smell that, Arkon?” “Hmm, I do…what is that?” Arkon leaned out of the window, thick fingers steepled together. He was a large figure, just barely squeezing through the frame of the window to spy out into the breezeway. The barbican, by Rain's estimation, was either a formality or a vestige...

With that response, they weren't quite off to the races. But for all intents and purposes, their time at the crooked round table adorned by age old globs of burned wax was done. Fairchild cleared his throat and stood, gingerly pushing his chair back up against the table. "Well..." He uttered as...