Recent content by Vardan

Khasmina Zvonimir | Sir Nathaniel Vardan made no move as the wave of earth rolled towards him - not even a peep. It bowled him over, and by the time the earth settled, he had been utterly buried. There was no sign of him for quite some time, but even a couple feet of dirt couldn't spare him the...

Khasmina Zvonimir | Sir Nathaniel Two more of the Graveguard tried to advance, and they likewise had the magic shriven from their reanimated forms. They collapsed into inanimate bones, weapons and armor clattering noisily into the stone beside them. Time permitting, perhaps Vardan would return...

Sir Nathaniel | Khasmina Zvonimir "Ill-mannered clod," Vardan continued to fume, stalking around the mausoleum, occasionally kicking small rocks or pieces of rubble as he happened upon them, "Had I my retinue..." Arriving back at the front of the mausoleum, he was surprised to find the...

Khasmina Zvonimir | Sir Nathaniel The old lich sat in silent disbelief for a long moment, until finally the blackguard's words sunk in and he entered an indignant rage. "Impudent, wretched fool," Vardan snapped, "Presumest thou to command me? I am not some low-bred scullion to be ordered...

It had been quite some time since Vardan had accepted tribute from anyone. His head titled slightly to one side and gingerly accepted the tin, giving it a shake as well for good measure. Confections rattled around noisily inside. "Nnnh... Yes, this will do," he decided, "My thanks, dear...

"Vardan," said the lich with the same name, "It is thy pleasure, yes." He pointed to the brooch, "Crush the mark with thy heel in an hour of need, and I shall appear with haste." "Appear" was a very strong word and perhaps did not capture the intricacies of the enchantment. Still, a closer...

Khasmina Zvonimir | Sir Nathaniel Vardan stood in the doorway, then made a gesture as if he were cleaning out one of his ears. "Nnnh, lower thy voice, blackguard. The dead are already quite awake..." He laughed at his own joke - a dry, rasping staccato - as he meandered further into the crypt...

Vardan's skeletal jaw swung open and he held Mr. Sneezy up for close inspection - even in these magical times, talking pets were not terribly commonplace. "Fret not on thy guilt," Vardan chided Shiloh, eventually setting down Mr. Sneezy once he was satisfied, "It was thy desire to stop the...

Vardan seemed to forget about Shiloh for the moment - he stooped over to pick up Mr. Sneezy and stroke him gently behind the ears. The pebble passed through the pumpkin-horse like a crossbow bolt through paper - causing it to wobble precariously before pitching over and smashing into the...

It took Vardan a long, painful, silent moment to realize that there was to be nothing beyond the polka dots. He walked the short space between them, then moved to flick Shiloh right between the eyes. "Art thou simple?" He demanded, "That cannot be the true extent of thy sorcery. Go again, afore...

Vardan held up a hand, signaling his unsteady pumpkin-horse-child to stop and wait. He turned now to Shiloh, hands held up as if to surrender, and spread his bony fingers, "Art thou not a sorceress...? If thou shouldst desire to stop me... Then work thine arts, and writ thy will upon reality."...

Vardan's laughter tapered off into a rattling cough, but he nevertheless clarified to Shiloh: "I have merely instilled it with new, dreadful purpose, my dear lambkin." The dreadful pumpkin-horse now rivaled the squat, homely buildings of Elbion's residential district for size. Perhaps it would...

Long ago, Vardan had himself been a father. It tickled his rotten heart to be referred to as one again, though not in a way conducive to preventing what would happen next. Wisps of black fire danced at Vardan's fingertips as he raised his hands, silent working foul sorcery. Gnarled roots...

"Incompetent, nnh," Vardan repeated, "Thy meagre charms have conjured peril..." Still the pumpkin swelled, and the bowl of the cauldron finally snapping open to make way for it. Vardan only watch with the cool patience of someone without anything better to do - his previous tasks forgotten...

Vardan slunk through the streets of Elbion unmolested. Those he passed assumed his decrepit, skeletal visage was some sort of elaborate costume or festival illusion. Wherever he was going or coming from, he stopped on account of the cursed pumpkin. He gave it some consideration as it swelled...