Recent content by Sigrun Flintfeet

Sigrun sighed. She could already predict what the guard was going to say: "That right? A mummy you say? Hmph. Well I'll have to inspect that." The dwarven sentry gave a command and the gates opened, while he sauntered down to do his inspection. Vel'duith Voiryn Karskgorak Fiend-Crusher

Roots held memory. She couldn't remember which traveller on the road had told her as much, but she did recall this small pearl of wisdom. The roots of her ancestors had claimed this land, but they stuck deep indeed, as evidenced by her companions and their tales of the past. If she had been...

"Big Valley." The words dropped flatly from Sigrun. She wasn't even joking. Dwarves could wax lyrical all year round when it came to gold mines, diamonds, fine metallurgy and the like. But the sky and the surface? Too big. Too vast. Too empty. But not to her. Despite her lacking praise in...

Sigrun sat beside Vel'duith, holding the reins to Honey Pepper. Indeed, the mist made it troublesome to see, but so long as they stuck to the road, they would be unlikely to stumble across any wheel-gouging rock. Hojen's warning lingered in her mind like a stubborn stone in a shoe. If...

A sigh escaped Sigrun like wistful wind rustling through a squat oak tree. Gabriel was never going to get off her back about this artefact. Especially since strange disturbances and walking nightmares had been reported throughout Crobhear Keep. It seemed no matter where it was placed, it caused...

Sigrun glanced across the room at Vel'duith, noting her distinct change in demeanour. At first she had seemed so exuberant, as if even a dwarf's presence couldn't strike her wonder and joy from seeing the moon. But for some reason, it changed when Sigrun questioned her vision. Strange. Perhaps...

Tentatively, Sigrun went to a tub of her own. Admittedly, having the water heated up at a simple spell sounded much easier than traditional implements. Heating stones or coals to place below the tub could take a while. "The same heat as what ye have should suffice." Folding out the towel and...

Sigrun nearly turned on her heel and left, but it seemed ridiculous to balk now that she had gone to the trouble of getting here. And perhaps in defiance of showing any such weakness, she resolutely stepped into the room, seeking a tub of her own. Her resolve didn't help her in finding anything...

Sigrun kept her residence in the barracks, her eyes running along the terse, blocky writing of the letter clutched in her hand, again and again, as if re-reading it could speed her own decision. Its words weighed on her, delaying her surrender to the merriment and frolicking outside. "Sigrun...

Sigrun had opted to sit on her chair, rather than stand on it, straddling it with her legs and leaning her arms against its back, listening to Irman's brisk summary, Vel'duith's staggering analysis and Andel's non-plussed quotation. While she already knew Irman's account, the drow's assessment...

"That's right. We don't know what in Crum's bloody beard it is." She scratched her neck, summoning up what scraps of knowledge she had. "But the things it's around they . . . change. The skin of the boars, I've--I've never seen anything the like! Wet and papery like, like . . ." her hands...

Sigrun smiled through her tangles of unbound hair, gradually loosened from strain and one rapid event after another - like a beam of sunlight through a tangle of trees. She chuckled a little at his outlandish question of Irman, turning to look up at Gabriel. "He's fine." The relieved mirth...

Sigrun managed to rush into the stillroom with Gabriel, just at the pinnacle of Ispir's transformation. Those two words - titanic in scope, rattling through her bones like divine memory - completely arrested Sigrun in her tracks. She could only stare at Ispir lying back down, the powerful, teal...

Sigrun blinked. The long, rambling explanation of the drow seemed too fantastical and too out of this world to be a fabricated lie. Moon goddesses, oaths, independence, flying fey furballs, boasting of being a rogue and a pilferer of books . . . Not exactly glowing recommendations, but too long...

Sigrun stood still, threateningly so, barely a ripple in her tense features. Her brow did furrow, however, as the proferred logic was not unsound. But it felt too prepared. Too much like drow deception. "I hunt many things. Monsters too. Including those scampering out of the Underrealm." Her...