Recent content by Shrike

Ah yes, that cold demanding snap in her voice, bracing as a blast of frigid air. Certainly a blood relative of Ravenna, though that defiance in her eyes and the thirst for adventure seemed all her father. Tydeus wondered why Agravayne still secluded himself on the isle. Probably too drunk these...

"There's your basilisk fangs and your monk's hood. Not easy to find, those. That'll be twenty gold." Tydeus stared at the two cloth-bound packages on the counter, slightly smaller than a bound book. His pale gray gaze traveled up to the storekeeper, a burly dwarf. Tydeus' stare drilled into the...

You make yourself too hard, you make yourself brittle too. Crack once, crack all to pieces.

A frown furrowed the silver brow of the half-elf. The scars marring his face and body itched at the mention of that name. Twice-Bitten. Better than the low thrum of constant pain they usually brought. They’d been quiet since his journey to the Tree. Since being bestowed the blessings of the dark...

The Shrike did not move to bow, or incline his head in greeting, or show any supplication her father or aunt might have expected. He stood unmoving as a limestone cliff face overlooking the crashing waves below. Scarred by the ocean’s lashing, weathered by time, but still and cold and unfeeling...

The sea spray stung Tydeus’ face. This time of year the ocean seemed a frigid thing, a denizen of lurking demons and sudden storms. He waited on a remote dock in Alliria’s great harbor, the sole figure there this time of the morning. But not for long. A new ship came in, with a hull blacker...

A figure in plate armor - foolish on an airship - rushed for the prow. Features hidden behind a winged helm, he barreled into a demon, shouldering through slashing claws that squealed against enchanted steel as he vaulted toward the tip of the ship. He had kept quiet nearly the whole ride...

A snort at her contemptuous stare and the jut of her bared throat, tendons taught and stark, pleading to be cut. It reminded him of that ranger, years ago. Such defiance, just to end up a flayed corpse on a rope. Better than most, the bleating sheep of the rest. A wolf could respect a wolf...

So powerful the stranger’s blow with his black blade that the very tree itself did shudder and boughs shook loose, crashing all around them, some even splashing into the pond itself. What horrific strength before the eyes of the Dark. What hideous might on display. A raw and terrible smile...

Yes

Alone in the pool, his blood pouring from every rip he opened in his own skin, Tydeus moaned in pain. Shivering in the sudden coldness of the pool, what had once been the chill of summer now a midwinter numb. “I call upon thee,” he hissed, “The Darkness Between the Stars.” His blood slicking...

A dark light animated his eyes at her words, the first sign of true curiosity or interest, or indeed anything resembling real human emotion. “Tell me, “ he commanded, the same hoarse voice that had commanded the burning of villages, the hanging of dozens and the slaughter of hundreds more. Men...

“Maybe not,“ he put the needle point in the hollow of her throat, resting it there so that it rose and fell with her breaths. “But what kind of priestess refuses to make a sacrifice to her God?“ The Butcher looked into her eyes, searching for something. At last, he lifted the dagger and brushed...

The woman stood to go in a rustle of those red robes. A whisper of leather and the dagger appeared back in Tydeus’ hand. He held the tip of the blade at the woman’s throat, cold steel pressed against pale flesh. “I didn’t say you could leave, priestess.”

The canines. The look of lust. The talk of sacrifice. He thought he understood now. The eye marred by toxins stared at her, too knowing, seeing more than these petty dimensional walls. “No,” he rasped in agreement. “I’m tainted meat.” Tydeus stood far too close to her. He raised a hand...