“Clear glacial water, spring barley, winter wheat and summer hops are what good ales are known for. The ale should not be too old or it will be stale or bitter, it must breath or the favor won’t be just right, and most importantly it should be chilled to just a hair above freezing, so the taste is sharp and crisp” ~ Taliwar Jil - Master Brewer, Far Doman
“Wolf, have you not heard, Red Riding left to college years ago and is married with 2 kids of her own, she has not come to Grandmother’s house for 5 years now. What have you done with Grandma, for if it is murder, the axe you will have.”
Worldly girl from a small northern berg, who likes to get in trouble.
“Odd style, you present yourself with.”
“Yes indeed, it suits me well enough.”
::lunge:: ::parry:: ::cross:: ::reposte:: ::parry::
“Strange you lead with your dagger, yet you attack in defend with your right…”
“I’d honor you with a flourish from my left but that would hardly be fair…”
“First blood it is, on guard!”
“A brand forged in the dying embers of the old gods, such that a pact was formed in the light of the new era. The birthing gods of the lands would attribute to man his due accord or be unmade from the power that bore them. So it came that man was able to vanquish the tribulations that followed.” ~ Caeracyn folklore.
...and the crow spoke of an age of eternal night and of the devouring of the sun. The sea will boil the blood of the maker, the sky will flood with a dark pestilence raping the land of all its bounty, and the mounds will break loose what death had acquited… So is the propecy of the end.
“I admit I cannot withstand it’s corruption, I am no goodly man but i do not wish for the end. Too much anger rests in Kadagan as well, who will keep it safe?” Nerrad the Transmuter
Pulsating dry white, red, orange and amber hues—- the air shimmered as the fire spirits leapt forth to and fro in the pyre. Tendrils of black carnal essence twined and twixed into the night sky barring the waxing moon from sight. The pyre burned bright as the brave and the cowardly both made their passage in preparation for the next battle and deep within the hellish inferno a golden hue developed separate from skeletal coals that breathed life with every breath of the conflagration.
The searing radiation of the holocaust gave way to the black heat as dawn emerged victorious of the night. The souls of the warriors had departed, but in corporal ashes remained a warm and coppery glow.
Swordbiters are parasites. They are long, thin and silver, and digest metal, somewhat like rust monsters, but smaller and more insidious. They resemble stick insects, but when they cling to metal they are very well camouflaged, and one can be biting your sword for a week before you notice it. They cannot be removed by hand, as they are very strong, but if the blade is inserted into fire they will leap off to escape the flames. Sometimes, old treasure hoards are infested with them, and the first glimpse you get of the "glittering" weapons is a pile of rusted swords encrusted with these thin silvery insects.