Recent content by Reven

Zinnia kicked the decision back to him. Alright. He'd a mind to be a helping hand in whatever scheme was cooked up to heist the local authority—their prizes seemed to be locked up tight, if Zinnia's assessment was anything to go by. Livia said something odd to him, and Reven glanced her way...

The fisherman—now better known to Reven as "the scalper"—seemed eager to get started. Aske was his name, or at least what he preferred to be called, and whatever business he had with the scalp of the murderer Reven couldn't imagine and, frankly, didn't much mind; he just sounded a little bit...

A nudge and an answer from the Sister. Ah, seemed Warhammer—Zinnia, as her name would soon be revealed—was like his old friend Daz. Daz had a quavery voice, born with it, and while he always got shit for it, he was witty, and the shakiness of his voice somehow made his comebacks all the funnier...

Now that was funny. Reven didn't expect to scare her right back, but scared she was. No more than a moment's fright, as though both of them had come round a corner at the same time and given each other a start. She talked strange, the Sister did, and Reven thought he got the gist of it all—but...

"You're right on that," said Reven. "I'm a man of the Reach. I suppose you could say I'm from Grishino—it's a town on the Sayve—not born in it but born near enough to it. As fer why I'm here, nothin more er less than any other man come here or there with a sword in hand and gold in mind. Now—"...

A vote of confidence from the elf. Well and good in Reven's book. And the elf's gear didn't much surprise him; not on account of him having some preconceived notion about elves and their gear, but because some men in his old Company of raiders preferred roughing it, making their own gear from...

"Suits me," said Reven. With no money to add increasing risk they played just the one round, observing their hands, folding out what cards they chose if they did so choose and drawing anew that same number. What the game really came down to was a study of each man by the other, before they...

THE CHAMBER OF PRESERVATION HEADQUARTERS Elbion proved a place far outside of Reven's reckoning. Now he'd of course heard of it over in the Reach, how could you not, but word of mouth, even the tallest of tales, didn't do the actual sight justice. Magic he'd not seen often in his lifetime. But...

A curious glance toward a new sound or sight of interest, as one might well do, gave Reven a glimpse of the Sister come down from the rooms upstairs. Mild surprise forced a double take from him. Now that was something, wasn't it? Far as he knew Vel Anir was famous, or infamous, for its lack of...

"Guessin you fish up killers then?" 'Cause they sure weren't talking about salmon. Mortivore Urn Livia Quinnick Zinnia

Hell, the fisherman was like Reven himself, if instead of coin he'd gambled and lost his sense of humor. Maybe old age had a tendency of abrading it away. Not for everyone though. Old Man Gellicht was one of the funniest goatfuckers Reven ever knew, raider or no raider. Perhaps a trade in...

Sort of the problem with chasing rumor, wasn't it? Like trying to catch a fistful of wind at times. Reven already had the real job he was out here for done with, and truth was while he wouldn't have to worry so much about the law this far west in Liadain, that also meant he didn't have much to...

One of the tables in the common room of the Copper Cod hosted a card game between two men. Both had recently quit the docks and came to the inn for a spot of relaxation. "Well don't stay too long," said Lars, the Vel Luin local. Reven looked up from his fan of cards to him. "Why's that?"...