Egram could not get the scent of char out of his nose.
It strangled him as a platoon of Blazing Guards accompanied him through the streets. He could not taste it more clearly in his mouth if he had been chewing on charcoal. It stung in his nose. Egram longed to bathe and get free of his clothing. His merchant's garb reeked of smoke from the soot staining it.
Worse, Reshal's blood had seeped through the blue fabric and dried, leaving the garment stiff and heavy. A patch tugged uncomfortably against the priest's chest as he walked. He was grateful for the bulwark of armored guards around him. To prying eyes, he would b
Jaim trudged through the snow.
Coils of mist spewed from his open mouth as he trudged up the white hill. They were quickly snatched by the gale. The wind screamed across the lifeless plain, its wails like a forlorn soul. Its icy talons could rake runnels out of living flesh, and if they were not sharp enough on their own, they bore shards of hail and sleet.
He crested the hill. A peculiar sort of beauty suffused the vista below. The world was clad in shades of blue and white. The brown of earth was entirely absent, and the only green rested in the chill core of the glacier dominating the skyline to the east. Its peak
The market's silence still bothered Egram.
He leaned against an alabaster wall, surveying the Selomar Market. Merchants were supposed to shout the value of their goods to the world. They were not, by nature, a solemn lot. The quiet in the air was more fitting to a funeral than a market.
It was not just the quiet, but the cleanliness of the place that was unnerving. The market sweltering under the midday sun was spotless. Its stalls were spaced in neatly ordered rows. Blazing Guards, in their shining steel armor and crimson capes, surveyed the surroundings. Egram wondered if there would be any trade with Cothinastris
Hetgraf's hand gripped Caran's so hard that it hurt.
She thought of pulling her hand away, but knew it would do little to help. If they waited any longer, it would cause a social incident. She suspected that she would already be hearing gossip for weeks about Jaim's absence. Jaim could be responsible to a fault at times, but Avan always knew what to say to get his friend to give in. She hoped the two of them were not just carousing in Tornos Town after their hunt.
Jaim's a good boy, Caran reminded herself. No. A good man, she amended.
"It's getting late," she said.
Hetgraf glanced at her, but did not re
"Get down, Jaim!"
Avan's voice broke Jaim out of his daze. He ducked just a moment before the crack of his friend's rifle resounded through the wood. The projectile whizzed by his ear, missing the woodbull by a yard and tearing into the bark of a nearby tree. Avan stood coughing in the acrid smoke rising from the barrel of his weapon. Birds in the neighboring trees took to wing.
The woodbull stared at its assailant through red-rimmed eyes. It tilted its head, crowned with a mass of jagged horns, as if amused by Avan's incompetence. Moss and creepers dotted its stony hide, the thickness of which did little to disguise
The sun beat down on Karidan Beach.
In its dying throes, summer had rallied over the coastline. Heat and damp colluded in the air to form a stifling, palpable force. A bare scattering of seagulls soared above the beach. Other living things had retreated to shelter in the crags of the cliffs that jutted out of the sand. They rose to form a solid wall of rock that shared the hue of dried blood. Scraggly plants clinging to the rock face were burned brown by the heat, but life teemed in the shadows, untroubled by the sunlight.
Atop the wall of rocks, a city had died. The hollow-eyed necropolis overlooked the bay. The city'
The sun beat down on Karidan Beach.
In its dying throes, summer had rallied over the coastline. Heat and damp colluded in the air to form a stifling, palpable force. A bare scattering of seagulls soared above the beach. Other living things had retreated to shelter in the crags of the cliffs that jutted out of the sand. They rose to form a solid wall of rock that shared the hue of dried blood. Scraggly plants clinging to the rock face were burned brown by the heat, but life teemed in the shadows, untroubled by the sunlight.
Atop the wall of rocks, a city had died. The hollow-eyed necropolis overlooked the bay. The city'
"Get down, Jaim!"
Avan's voice broke Jaim out of his daze. He ducked just a moment before the crack of his friend's rifle resounded through the wood. The projectile whizzed by his ear, missing the woodbull by a yard and tearing into the bark of a nearby tree. Avan stood coughing in the acrid smoke rising from the barrel of his weapon. Birds in the neighboring trees took to wing.
The woodbull stared at its assailant through red-rimmed eyes. It tilted its head, crowned with a mass of jagged horns, as if amused by Avan's incompetence. Moss and creepers dotted its stony hide, the thickness of which did little to disguise
Hetgraf's hand gripped Caran's so hard that it hurt.
She thought of pulling her hand away, but knew it would do little to help. If they waited any longer, it would cause a social incident. She suspected that she would already be hearing gossip for weeks about Jaim's absence. Jaim could be responsible to a fault at times, but Avan always knew what to say to get his friend to give in. She hoped the two of them were not just carousing in Tornos Town after their hunt.
Jaim's a good boy, Caran reminded herself. No. A good man, she amended.
"It's getting late," she said.
Hetgraf glanced at her, but did not re
The market's silence still bothered Egram.
He leaned against an alabaster wall, surveying the Selomar Market. Merchants were supposed to shout the value of their goods to the world. They were not, by nature, a solemn lot. The quiet in the air was more fitting to a funeral than a market.
It was not just the quiet, but the cleanliness of the place that was unnerving. The market sweltering under the midday sun was spotless. Its stalls were spaced in neatly ordered rows. Blazing Guards, in their shining steel armor and crimson capes, surveyed the surroundings. Egram wondered if there would be any trade with Cothinastris
Jaim trudged through the snow.
Coils of mist spewed from his open mouth as he trudged up the white hill. They were quickly snatched by the gale. The wind screamed across the lifeless plain, its wails like a forlorn soul. Its icy talons could rake runnels out of living flesh, and if they were not sharp enough on their own, they bore shards of hail and sleet.
He crested the hill. A peculiar sort of beauty suffused the vista below. The world was clad in shades of blue and white. The brown of earth was entirely absent, and the only green rested in the chill core of the glacier dominating the skyline to the east. Its peak
Egram could not get the scent of char out of his nose.
It strangled him as a platoon of Blazing Guards accompanied him through the streets. He could not taste it more clearly in his mouth if he had been chewing on charcoal. It stung in his nose. Egram longed to bathe and get free of his clothing. His merchant's garb reeked of smoke from the soot staining it.
Worse, Reshal's blood had seeped through the blue fabric and dried, leaving the garment stiff and heavy. A patch tugged uncomfortably against the priest's chest as he walked. He was grateful for the bulwark of armored guards around him. To prying eyes, he would b
Hey, thanks! Yeah... I posted that for someone on the forums as a really quick writing exercise, but now I can't find the thread because I can't seem to view older threads on the forums. Gah.