Loziras sat upon the ramparts of the inner wall, looking out upon the ruined city. He heard the elf approach him long before he came into view. “Hi Cortin,” he said.
“Well hello there young Loziras. Why so glum?” asked the burley, irrepressible elf.
“You wouldn’t understand,” shot back Loziras.
“Wouldn’t we?” asked Ishalzi as she stepped from the shadows. Loziras nearly jumped out of his skin when she appeared from nowhere.
“Where did you come from?” he asked. Continue reading
Môràh raised her head from where she had rested it on Loziras’ shoulder. Beyond him she saw Graylen and Credance standing there, tears in their eyes. She then looked up into Loziras’ face. “What happened?” Loziras looked back down upon her, unsure how to respond to her question. “What happened to me?” she asked again.
“I-I don’t know,” he responded. He saw that his inability to respond pained her. He struggled to find the words that would provide the comfort that she sought. “I can’t tell you what happened for I don’t know…I just found you; I wish I could tell you…” His words fumbled as he struggled to form them, unable to bear the suffering that she was feeling. Môràh sensed the pain that her plight caused him, and for a reason she could not explain, struggled herself to find a way to comfort him. Continue reading
“Well then, seeing as how we’re all back together, why don’t you tell me about your adventures Crüxt,” said Craet as he leaned back in his chair. He, Crüxt, Öyre, and Magistar Winters were seated around a table in the refurbished tavern.
“Seeing as how you asked so nicely,” replied Crüxt, “I guess I have no choice but to reply.” Crüxt proceeded to lay out his tale, from when he and his men rode from the shrine, to where they met Öyre.
“So you were aware of our plight?” asked Craet. Continue reading
Môràh hid in the shadows, unsure of what to do. She was frightened, and had no clue as to where she was. When she had awoken, she was on a flat wooden table covered with naught but a blanket. Startled she took stock of her surroundings. Besides her, only two other’s occupied the room, both fast asleep. Continue reading
“And my wounds are real
I must rise from the sorrow
And find my way out of the dark
I’ve cried my tears from pain
There’s a new day tomorrow
I’ll turn the hourglass again.”
-Wounds by Masterplan Continue reading
Chronicles of the Order 