Recent content by Rovan Ravenhill

Azrakar . . . now where had he heard that name before? The name reverberated through him, but didn't quite find purchase in his memory. As a bit of a dilettante scholar, Rovan made a point of acquainting himself with as many significant names and figures as he could, past or present. But this...

"Well, what can I say? Not only orcs are privy to loss. Little sense in padding tragedy with more words." A note of strange, earnest soberness struck a chord in Rovan's voice, his eyes downcast and half-lidded. He reflected on his recent perils. Frazil leaving him in the heart of the Spine . ...

"It shouldn't be much, I'm certain I will--" Rovan took the hand, but grimaced as more pain assailed him. Icy pain, as if the internal cold gnawed at his heart. He gripped his chest and heaved air more raspily, his feet shuffling for purchase on the floor while Lilette pulled him up. He caught...

Rovan listened to the chilling tale of this unknown clan's last stand. Of Urzak's last stand, he was starting to figure. Perhaps he was the sole survivor of this ordeal? The orc shied away from mentioning any specifics or names; not even a named enemy of this clan. Why? Did he fear such...

Rovan blinked. By all the Gods above, Urzak was beginning to remind him of Safleure Dellada -- the dusty philosopher monk of the Allirian reach, infamous for his mysterious allusions. An orc pontificating on the nature of stories -- conjuring up a great nebulous mist of insinuations and cryptic...

"Yes," Rovan gasped, pushing himself a little further up against the ice wall. "Yes, I think we did . . ." He looked to his right, where he expected to see Thalos' blindfolded face and long whiplash of a braid. Nothing. Just a blank wall. "Oh, well -- nevermind. We seem to have lost our...

Strivogg. The name rung in Rovan's mind like a distant church bell. It had a name; one could forget that dragons also claimed personhood of a sort. That meant it plotted something. What was more: it desired something. Rovan knelt down, placing a fur mitten on the ice. Low rumblings suffused...

Rovan's practised grace froze, like a river snapfreezing on a wintry night. He gave Urzak Iron-Hold a closer look; specifically into his cold eyes. You will hear things worth knowing before you leave this town. An ominous tingle in his spine sought to warn him, but of what exactly, he couldn't...

Rovan's eyes squinted a tad more, taking in the effect the orc had on the quivering merchant. The plan finally cracked through its shell; and Rovan mirrored the not-quite-a-smirk of Urzak, stroking his own goatee. Previously, he had hoped tales of his exploits could net him some goodwill in...

"What do you mean this costs two silver?" "I meant what I meant. Two silver pieces for two boots. Finest boots you'll ever find. Made from northern elk leather and wolf fur." Rovan bit his lower lip. They were a nice set of boots, he couldn't lie. But that didn't mean he was going to let the...

Rovan pressed his eyes shut. This was it. This was the end for them. More fool him to have come here. The unified shrieks of wraiths overcame his world, setting upon him. The air parted above him before a heavy weight. Ice shattered around him - right, front, left - spraying particles over him...

Rovan didn't need to be told twice. He might be able to shape ice, but he very much doubted he had anything in his arsenal against those incorporeal abominations. Besides his dagger of Eldifryst left to him by Tafna Gringhook, though he didn't want to get close enough to test its strength. Their...

"Here," Rovan's voice piped out weakly from up above Lilette. He stood on a foothold by his own design; having arrested his downward slide by shaping the ice to catch his fur-covered boots. His chest was heaving through all his layers, up and down, shocked by the sudden overturn of his world...

Rovan matched the curtsey with a near automatic bow of his own, hand over his ailing heart, all while his mind worked. House Blackbriar . . . House Blackbriar? Where had he heard that name from? It tugged at his memory, but didn't quite find purchase. Ah, no matter. He could worry about...