Recent content by Rovan Ravenhill

He slammed the book shut, about to pursue the others, when the first crack shook the floor and sent the ceiling weeping with deadly, frozen tears. "Noo--" Rovan began with an upward inflection at the first icicle shattering near him, as if he could tell the rudely impacting object to stop, like...

This eye of primordial size observed them through the ice, nothing but a thin barrier separating these young races from something truly old. Rovan felt as small as a snowflake before a blizzard, gazing into its dark slit, like some wound in a sea of brass sclera. The eye sunk and vanished from...

"Who knows? Perhaps they misplaced them in some vicious dragon's gullet. I hear their scales can be so terribly difficult to extricate things from." The cold was beginning to get to him, and perhaps it added some caustic drip to his wit. Now with his hat off, his ears and cheeks reddened...

Catching their breath, what remained of the camp filed into the room - a mumbling, coughing, harking, cursing crowd, their mingled voices bouncing off of the ancient walls strangely. Outside, the wind howled like a frothing beast, snowflakes hurled through the doorway, fingers of snow reaching...

Rovan put down his glass and folded his hands before him, nodding along, intrigued by the healer's in-depth answer. It felt clinical and mildly detached in the ways a physician might observe a curious patient, or a herbalist might account for a persistent and vigorous weed. Listening fully to...

The battle raged on, and the dagger was shoved back to Rovan. He gave up on reading the scroll, the hilt of the knife slipping his grasp, and he had to fall to his knees and search for it with his hands. "Blast it all! Curse - this - wind!" Finally, his hand landed upon its knobby hilt...

Perhaps his earlier assessment had been correct. The knife felt little more like a toothpick. But currently, it seemed the only weapon they had. He almost flung the weapon to her frost-blue hand, hilt first, and turned empty-handed to the whirling storm and carnage around them. Normally, he...

The wind rose its hackles and the sky clenched its fist, forming grey clouds and throwing fresh snow-flakes at the unnatural movement, as if trying to blow away this aberration. It was as though nature itself attempted to reject the living darkness. From one moment to another, the monsters had...

Fjallaheim . . . It wasn't a place he had heard of before. And Rovan made it a point to have a firm grasp on Arethil's various realms and borders. Intriguing. Another point he would have to explore at length. "I see . . . so a lone emissary of your people, eh?" He pulled his own cloak further...

He gave a helpless shrug and a little smile at her question. Before he could answer, however, Tafna had barged in with her question. During Frazil's explanation, Tafna flipped open her tome and began taking feverish notes, dropping her piece of sharpened charcoal several times. In all her...

Rimer slapped the proferred hand away, pushing himself up from the ground. Some of his kin aided him, even offering to finish the job for him in their own gravelly language. But he answered them bluntly in Dwarvish: "Leave her. Come on, let the humans deal with her. We have a job to do, and if...

The briefest snicker escaped Rovan, snorted through his nose - before he whisked it away behind his sleeve, pretending to wipe his nostrils. He had to commit that one to memory. Certainly this Frazil knew the fine art of mockery. Unfortunately, it had exactly its intended effect. Rimer raised...