Recent content by Sigrun Flintfeet

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...

A nod of confirmation, then through a clenched mouth: "Aye. He be in good hands." When Irman was carried away and the elk led off, Sigrun leaned her back against a ramshackle wooden post, sinking down to her haunches. Ancestors, she was weary to the bone. Every muscle and fibre of her burned...

The winches of the gatehouse groaned, ancient chains complaining, rust caking off the screeching portcullis. Crobhear Keep opened its main gate like a leper might reluctantly open his mouth to ingest ill-tasting medicine. Sigrun slid off Honey Pepper's back, steering the elk by its reins...

She looked down at him with pity, and attempted an encouraging smile, though it looked mostly remorseful. Gently, but firmly, she took his hand, squeezing it for some sort of comfort. "Sigrun. Name's Sigrun, lad." No sense in keeping names secret any longer. He wasn't likely to go blabbering...

The tension in her muscles and her grimace of combat leaked out, steadily turning into a frown of concern. He was flopping around in the cart like a fish on land, strength wrung out of him, barely able to reach out for her. She quickly stepped over and hefted Ispir's wrist, helping him up. She...

"I'm sarding trying, ancestor's bones!" Sigrun charged after the cart - but her short, dwarven legs could only get her so far. Even shackled to a cart, Honey Pepper soon became a distant memory in the horizon, lurching down the hill from the road. That didn't stop her though. She kept...