Recent content by Sagarus

Looking, he didn't see the poignant response offered by Monroe. As they rattled to the edge of the square he made to leave the wagon and draft beast behind, intending to walk. Wyvern had done enough already; didn't need to run anyone over with a rickety wooden hauler too. Palm finding its way...

Buildings crept up on them like wayward branches around a walking path and as Monroe jumped down he about scoffed. Only by force of will did he not. Control was what kept him sane, most days. Brows furrowing, which did nothing more than roughen an already jagged cliffside, he panned his eyes...

No part of him disagreed with Monroe but he was amused to know they saw this similarly. A burning village would be an easier hunt - it would mean the beast was likely still around. "Must be dropping by for meal time." An educated guess, but given that the burning was only sporadic it seemed to...

"They are not comparable." He riposted. No further explanation was offered. Casting a sideways look at Monroe he knew immediately where her eyes had gone. "If it needs used, I suggest hiding." With that, he turned his eyes back to the road and let their wagon rattle it's way down the slope and...

"Uh huh," he mused, clearly not believing that in the slightest. There was little need to throw his shoulder against that particular door right now. They scarcely knew each other. "It has its uses." To put it mildly. Often, he preferred to go without. Fighting with a sword was tiring enough, let...

"Ah." Manifestations were certainly within his purview, given his extension study as a conjurer. Part of him immediately wondered if this particular Saint would only respond to faith or if there were other ways to cajole it into offering up a small fraction of its power and attention. Yet, as...

Before he could stop it, he scoffed, short and sharp. "Yes... 'scented soap.'" It may as well be mockery though he knew full well it was usually the utter lack of intonation that created that perception rather than word choice. This, though, leaned into both. Monroe seemed up for the task. "I...

Crimson flicking to the corner of his eyes, he viewed her askance before deciding to begin walking towards Cyradil (Sigrith.) "She usually leaves instructions on parchment for me." It was a statement rather than an explanation, and he was not about to bore Monroe with the fact he found briefings...

As an explanation was given, the only indication the Dreadlord lived was the understated tip of his head in greeting to Cyradil. A wyvern wouldn't be so bad, and it would certainly be a sight better than a dragon. The tome could hopefully remain closed. Impulse guided his hand to the leather...

Whispers. They pricked his ears and mocked him by weaseling away from his memory like rats from an innkeeper's torch. Perhaps he'd overheard it in a tavern, or somewhere along roads best not traveled, where waterlogged parchment disintegrated in bloodstained gauntlets and the impression of ink...

She was conflicted about something, he could tell. It lingered in her eyes like smoke in the air. Perhaps she was questioning how well this mission was going. He couldn't blame her for that as he was wondering too. Yet, for all the hallowed tomes in the archives there was scarcely enough pages...

His eyes remained on the bear, though it never quite met his eyes. Since his return he found most animals preferred to avoid him, save the odd cat. Literally, the odd ones. His head rotated on his motionless frame as the bear continued towards their spoils below. "That's not good." Muttering...

While she was giving the kick to the horses, he took a moment to step to what he felt was the invisibly boundary that marked the edge of their camp. Hands folded over the pommel of his sword as was his custom, he studied the treeline and then looked over his shoulder to her again with a thin...

Unperturbed, he continued to stand like a thoughtful general surveying the battlefield of the morning. The woods may provide some cover, if only when they inevitably burst into flames. At that point, it was a sprint, and who knew if they or the wounded dragon would win. "Well, once you set the...

Sucking a breath in through his teeth, he lifted his chin and panned his eyes around the surrounding peaks and hillsides. This was awkward for them both, he knew. Tasked to kill a dragon with a stranger. Perhaps the only thing more embarrassing for all involved was any sort of romantic first. It...