Heart and Home Chap. 12
"She always thinks she's right," Carver muttered, kicking a loose rock. It skidded along the paving stones, scattering a flock of pidgeons. The birds struggled into the air awkwardly as if comfort forced them to forget how to fly. The templar watched with some satisfaction, wishing it were that easy to make his sister look silly. Hawke acted like she had all the answers. She always had. "Do this. Don't do that. Come here; go there!" Blah blah blah. Carver found another pebble, sending it clattering a few paces down the lane. The birds were already gone but it still made him feel better. Not as good as yelling at Riese would, but she was just impossible.
I never should have followed her out of Kirkwall, he thought sullenly. But then he never would have met up with Merrill again. "I should have stayed with her in the alienage," Carver sighed, looking in that direction. He knew he could go back, but Dirthen had made his feelings on humans and elves pretty clear. Maybe Merrill felt t
Heart and Home Chap. 11
Fenris woke up in a soft bed, wrapped in smooth, white linen sheets. Hawke slept beside him, mouth open, blankets twisted around her legs. The elf sat up, rubbing his head. It ached fiercely, and for the life of him, he could not remember where they were or how they got here. He had been drinking tea and listening to Merrill whine . . . and then . . . nothing? Fenris stood, unsteady as if he had spent a long night drinking heavily. Even his mouth had that flavor, like vinegar and spoiled meat. Riese made a small, unhappy noise and tugged the blankets tighter around her as he padded across the room to the wooden door opposite the bed. He opened it carefully, wondering if they had been drugged by the keeper and that strange old elf Dirthen. It sure as hell felt like it. The tension in his neck and shoulders sent spikes of pain through his skull as the door swung open slowly. A dark hall lay on the other side, with another door at the
Heart and Home Chap. 10
The clipper docked in Minrathous, wedged tightly into the crowded harbor. Men swarmed like ants over the decks of their ships, mighty booms and cranes lofting precious cargo to the stone and wood docks crate by crate. Refugees were everywhere here too, more than Orson remembered from his last trip home. Their hollow eyes and scarred limbs gave voice to the hell they thought they were escaping when they fled to the capitol. Over all the chaos, one of the Juggernauts stood, legs spread wide above the city gates. Wagons and coaches moved sluggishly between them, secure in their safety despite the certainty that one swing of its massive steel fists would turn them to a fine, red mist.
The mage breathed deeply, savoring the smells of packed humanity and sea stench before he made his way off the ship. It had been a longer than expected voyage from Kirkwall, and he was eager to be on dry land again. "Your cargo, sir?" The captain called out, eag
100 years part 4The children came to visit Darn often as he recovered. Brielle would bring him flowers sometimes, and Abel often brought toads, beetles, or mice he coaxed from the pantry. Vanin was less affectionate, his quiet company and intense stare the only gifts he had to give. It was enough. Darn found himself caring for them very much, looking forward to their visits more than anything. Despite his wish to die, those sweet little faces gave him a reason to wake each day. It was such a simple thing, he thought, but it kept him going as he gained in strength and learned his new body.
They often asked if he would join the lord's forces and fight, or if he would make his own mercenary group, a band of heroes in their bright imaginations. Brielle was especially fervent, her dark eyes shining when she talked about it. "But Darn, you are a great warrior! You can't stop now. You saved us, didn't you?" He looked at her, wanting to
Hello Fenris!The true story of Fenris in Tevinter
Hello Fenris copyright the Danarius Corp, Minrathous Tevinter
Excerpt from an early Hello Fenris press release:
Hello Fenris was born on Umbralis 1st in suburban Minrathous, Tevinter.
He is very energetic and loves to play outdoors, in the streets or a forest. But you can also find him happily practicing with his sword or baking a cake, too!
Fenris lives with his papa Danarius, and sister Varania. Fenris is curious whereas Varania is shy.
His generosity and kindness endear him to everyone he meets. His favorite thing is do tea parties and his hobbies include music, demon slaying, eating the cookies Danarius bakes, and best of all making new friends. Like he says "You can never have too many friends!"
Excerpt from a recent press release:
Hello Fenris has gone missing. His little pink bow was found on the floor of his room, and all his favorite toys were missin
GoodbyesIt was raining again. The soft patter of droplets on the roof tiles woke her, the rush of the tide in her dreams blending seamlessly with the storm until her eyes slid open. The room was dark and smelled of damp wood. She sat up slowly, slipping from under Efrain's arm. His fingers curled around nothing, hand searching for her breast. It caught on the blanket and went still. Celia studied him, her eyes exploring his familiar features in the darkness. Such an odd man, she thought. He was quiet, secretive, but strangely affectionate. Right now his mouth curved in a slight smile, face relaxed. Usually Efrain seemed guarded, an invisible wall set up to hide him from the world. But at rest, he looked happy.
Celia stood, ignoring whatever skittered under the bed, its many legs brushing her foot on its way to escape. She walked quietly across the small room, bare feet scooting clothes and boots out of her path. The shuttered balcony rattled in a wind gust and she glanced back to make su
Brute Measure - Contest EntryThe ogre wiped blood spray from his face and hefted his club, searching the smoky darkness for another opponent. A guttural laugh split his lips. Opponent. What a word for these small, pale menfolk; weak and soft they were. He looked down at the bone pierced filth, the remains of a human warrior. It only made him laugh harder. He spat at the pile of meat and strode on toward the burning carts. Tall trees ranged around this hunting ground, a narrow and pitted path. Merchants and pilgrims traveled it together, afraid of what might be hiding in the woods. They made an easy target for the ogre tribe and their patroness, Hag Segine. Thinking of her brought the echoing of drums through his flesh; the pounding so loud it made his vision pulse for a moment. It was always there, the rhythm like a second heart beat. Somewhere in the forest, the hag was still playing her old skin drum, gripping it with ancient, leathery thighs while she chanted spells as