marcia

Marci, I hope my handwriting's not too pad. "Ma taught me when I wus young, that an spellin'. She always did make sure I had my letters. Never really saw the point until now, but I'm glad I can write to ya. My folks hear from me every now and again' too, but it's different. Pa did his service...

Aniria - Licania "Wow." Nas said as they crested the small hill just outside of Licania. "It's even more boring than I thought it would be." The small town, if it could even be called a town, was situated just forty miles south of Vel Anir. Licania was nothing special when compared to a dozen...

Track and report, that was more or less what her missive stated when she had read it. Bexley drew up the hood to her leather jacket enough that it did not block most of her peripherals, waiting for the partner they assigned her for such a mundane task. If this had been the old days, she would...

"It's been nearly two hours now, hasn't it?" The two Initiates had been posted up in the Yawning Ogre for at least that long. The cups and plates in front of him and his fellow student had long been cleared of food and drink, and the meal placed in the empty third seat across from them now sat...

They had done it; they had found hell. It wasn't an infernal realm on another plane of existence where demons and devils played idle games with the souls of the living. Nor was it some endless chasm deep beneath the earth where one lived their worst fears for eternity, bound by chains of...

How? Just... how? Marcia stood in the courtyard, arms folded across her chest and neck craned to the sky as she stared upwards at one of the Academy's tallest turrets. She hadn't taken to suddenly admiring the robust masonry that had stood both the test of time and the Revolution, but instead...

Cortos - Barcion The old decrepit townhouse seemed to creak as Cenric stepped up to the window. The ancient floorboards so rotted out and ancient that he half thought he was about to fall through. Not that he wasn't used to it. Half of his bodies were scattered in one shit hole or another...

Sparring, was there anything quite like it? Not only was it a valuable exercise to hone combat skills—the entire cause of their existence—but it was also one of the best methods of releasing pent-up frustration, perfect, given that Marcia was the spirit of frustration poured into a five-foot...

There was theft afoot. Well, that was Marcia's running theory after angrily searching for her compact mirror for four entire seconds with the patience of a Proctor five minutes before lunch. She could have sworn that she had placed it on the bench a few minutes ago before re-lacing her boots...

She was in a box. Not a metaphorical box that might have signified particular walls or barriers put in place that might have reflected poorly on her as a person, but an actual fucking metal box, locked with a padlock and located in one of the Academy's storage rooms alongside training dummies...