The scene is so dreamlike in many ways. The sounds of the celebration all around us, Vansittart exchanging meaningless pleasantries with the Sheath merchants, his hand gripping around my arm tightly. His ferociousness is like a suffocating perfume around us. Power mixed in with a touch of madness lingering just beneath the civil surface. But… Continue reading A Demonstration of Power
Doing an open attack is quite the step for you, Derak. An endsman prides himself on his untouchability; a mad amok is what the desperate or gullible would do. But then, you’re not an endsman anymore. And it is true that even means that would slow or avert an endsman will do little against an… Continue reading Yeah, I am rather shameless
– Do come with me, Derak. Let’s get back to the right side of the river. We can have a nice dinner somewhere, wash it all down with the best wine the city has to offer. Just like in old times. There is really nothing I wish to say to him at the moment. And… Continue reading A Meeting and a Decision
Plotkin seems comfortable with the situation, so you sit down and let him do the talking. The two of them ignore you outright, with Plotkin brushing your presence off as easily as he does his own nightshirt. Theirs seems to be a relationship of easy banter. This place, though; you remember having visited the Cytheral… Continue reading If not love, then perhaps money?
Last shreds of the night follow us as we throw ourselves to the mazes of the city desperately searching for an escape and freedom. Plotkin seems to know his way around, but I am worried because the streets are all but empty now. It is too easy to follow us if we do not act… Continue reading The Safe House
Plotkin has been taking glances at the door as you tell your tale, when he’s not staring at your appearance. When you finish, he leans forward on his bed and places his hand on your knee. — Thank you master Derak, Plotkin says with assurance. — I can see how the violence of the night… Continue reading Night at the Monastery
There is a long silence. She must be contemplating things as much as I am. Basically she is Vansittart’s property from now on. There is no telling what she will say to him in her dire need to be accepted by him. For this, she is not to be trusted. I can’t give her any… Continue reading Glum Wanderings of Soul
You look over at Chrysal, but it’s too dark here to see much without Cat Eyes. The City is dotted with lights, but those are down below, and the Moon’s langurous beams are kept out by the half-intact walls. She could move a pace to get out of the shade, but that would be moving… Continue reading Discussing Love
I recorded the dialogue: ——You—— I thrust my mainblade through Albin’s throat. He crumbles next to his two friends. Before anyone can act, I grab Chrysal by the shoulder and push her out of the tavern and into the cool evening air. It is only then that I notice the blood. Albin managed to cut… Continue reading Art of Romantic Jaunting
I go for his wrist, grabbing but more importantly, pushing it downwards and towards the center of his mass, preventing him from drawing the sword. He takes a step backwards and another and I match him just like in a dance. And dance it is, Ballo, a meeting of two bravos. The city knows this… Continue reading The Ballo
