Suddenly an east wind blew, and far above the clouds rolled and folded. Where there were once whisps of white there was now a long cloud formed in the shape of a recurved bow. Malakh bowed her head in humility. "That which you have asked is granted you, O Warrior."
...Vaakri reached and stretched, grasping at the sky. At first he seized nothing, but his heart was filled with the Empyrean Emir's winds and light, and finally he grasped the bow from the far sky and drew it to the earth.
- The legend of Vaakri
Pavise: a full-body concave shield used to by medieval archers as defensive walls while reloading.
Pavisade: archaic term. a row of shields hung on the side of a ship to protect it at war and discourage boarding by enemies
Life dies in my wake, sacrificing itself to my hunger
The Masque of Hunger
Be a good little prince and stop throwing tantrums of the Black Jester will get you and eat you up.
Words of many a Nanny and noblewoman
Caution: Graphic Content
The Mughal of the Gremils, the Shah of Lag, the most devoted of Mathom.
Age is a terrible weight
The Grand Forge of Karak is known more generally as the Forge of Woe, for none can use it and remain untouched.
‘Remember Lais and do your job well, perhaps one day you’ll be a Princess in a foreign land.’
The Promise of many a brothel keeper.
Ye Olde English
Oblat - A soldier who, grown impotent or maimed in service, hath maintenance or the benefit of a monk’s place assigned him in an abbey
The champion of the Goddess of War!
My Queen should be pleased that Aurixia cannot grant me an heir, for if my dragon could give me a child I would have no use for the woman or her dubious charms…
Attributed to King Thyr, from the Book of the Black Rose
A powerful clan of blacksmiths, Clan Ironspirit is well known as the single best source for forged goods of any metal throughout the world. Many a legendary artifact has been born underneath their hammers, however, their price is almost never something so simple as mere gold.
The legendary blacksmith, founder of clan Ironspirit, and he whom brought the steel of the Gods themselves to mortal man.
In Aelfa’s arms, have I left my anvil…
These were the last words of Davyd, the last master alchemist of the Old World, upon his deathbed. For nine centuries many have sought out Aelfa to find the anvil so that they might create weapons of power equivalent to those crafted during the height of the Old World.
The journey had been a long one and now they had entered the mountains. After an entire day spent on paths cut into the mountainside and through moss covered coniferous woods, they encounter a desperate young mountain tribal. He is searching for his beloved wife and his elder brother, both of whom he got separated from after an unsuccessful attempt to kill a cave bear. The last thing he saw was the cave bear in full pursuit of his wife. He could not help her as he had been knocked to the ground by the raging beast, and was struggling to regain full consciousness. The tribal will be clearly nervous and urges them to look for his wife during their travels. He will stay in his village a couple of miles to the north and pleads for assistance should they recover his wife, whether she be dead or alive.
On the next day of travel, they will journey upon a dim track in the forest and while they are preparing to ascend another path cut into the mountainside, they hear moans of lust from somewhere nearby. Upon closer inspection they will spy a young tribal woman in the heat of the act with an elder tribal male. They are consummating their forbidden love on the cold mountain moss, and beside them lay the skinned and slaughtered carcass of a huge bear.