Recent content by Xeraphine Yldore

The nun arched her neck after the battle, and then, she saw them. The Merchant Council, far above, glancing down upon them all from their vantage point of stone. Something entered her eye that was anything but piety or philosophical curiosity. A fire flared within her, as hot and devouring as...

The flash of lightning awed the crowd. More than a few raised their sleeves before their eyes; some even screamed, thinking they would be struck. But instead, stone glyphs flared with white light, hidden below sand and dirt, and a snow-white barrier shot into existence, stopping the purple arc...

The humble nun followed Afanas in his wake, two forms wrapped in stark black, one taller than the other, cutting an inky line through the colourful masses like two black letters having bewildered themselves into a prismatic illumation. An invitation to walk with the Lord Commander was, of...

"Me? Deceive you? Perish the thought." There was something approaching wry amusement in the nun's tone. With Afanas looming over her, she appeared to keep her nerve admirably, not slinking from him, but standing as if merely under the shade of a tree. Her hand reached up to her neck and...

The nun couldn't help but smile slightly, but affected gentle surprise well enough, fluttering her eye. "Security concern? Oh, no, not at all, my lord. We simply wished to offer this." She raised the finely carved casket in her hand, imitating a pair of dragons breathing fire, their...

Xeraphine saw Lilette off, donning a faint smile of consolation and a small bow of respect. She watched the nun from a window, stepping through the sordid streets, Nightspell on her back. Soon enough, the smog claimed her, rendering her black-and-white form into little more than a shade. True...

Master Marsh looked more flummoxed than if half the city had come besieging their doors, his beardless, nearly shaven head swiveling and turning to take in all that was transpiring. Rarely had he seen his mistress so paralysed, deadlier even than the disease in his old master, Kezrim. "Aye, of...

They said that a warrior's choice of weapon spoke volumes more about them than any tabard or heraldry could. Xeraphine carefully observed Lilette caressing each weapon like long-lost mementos. Xeraphine couldn't help but wonder if someone as old as her had ever seen these blades before, held in...

"He will listen," Xeraphine assured her. "He may complain like a whipped mule, but he is not daft enough to defy our House." Xeraphine let out a lilting laughter, surprising even herself, her gloved hand covering her mouth. "Him? Forging? I'd be a'feared to let him anywhere near a hammer, let...

Fane bristled at being called 'mister,' but before he could speak Xeraphine took word: "Despite appearances, Mister Fane is fairly proficient with a rapier and dagger, the bow and incendiary artillery. He can ride a horse well and knows these lands. Father and he did enjoy the occasional hunt...

"No, that shan't be necessary." Xeraphine's voice was calm. Calm as a poised blade of cold steel. But her eyes burned like the forge such a blade might spawn from, searing into her brother. "Grant him a moment or two and he shall remember his manners." Fane stepped forward with a bestial snarl...

From the crowd appeared someone who might be mistaken for a nun or a grieving widow, garbed in a starkly black dress and a hood approximating a wimple. She approached the two generals, carrying a small elm-wood casket in her hands. Black hair cascaded over her right eye, leaving one...