William crouches low in the brush, heart pounding in his ears. Eight brigands already lie dead, his arrows in their backs, their stomachs, their heads. All because they hadn’t seen him coming. Hadn’t known where to look. But now they do.
Now they hunt.
Five left by his count. They're moving carefully, spreading out, sweeping the ...
2025-08-28 10:00:05 +0000 UTC View PostFor a heartbeat, the world holds its breath as my eyes linger on Hamza's broken form.
Hamza...?
I charge, snow spraying underfoot, the screams of the dying drowned beneath the pounding in my ears. Brigands stand between me and Yurik, blades raised....
But I’m faster.
Much faster.
My spear lunges, jabs, tw...
2025-08-27 10:00:08 +0000 UTC View PostWe approach the road by midday, the narrow, frozen trail winding ahead through thick trees. Hamza leans in, voice low. “Did you find out which way the merchants are coming from?”
I shake my head. “No. Yurik got distracted before he would say. If I ask him again, he’ll get suspicious.”
William grunts. “Too late anyhow. Can...
2025-08-26 10:00:05 +0000 UTC View PostYurik’s company gathers beneath Fort Gaelin’s iron gates, the towering doors creaking in the early dawn wind. A horse-drawn wagon waits near the path, its wheels half-buried in snow. Yurik stalks the line of men, about fifty in total, most barely awake as they wait.
"Is that all of ‘em?" Yurik barks, squinting over his shoulder.
<... 2025-08-25 10:00:07 +0000 UTC View PostI wake with a jolt of pain in my right arm, sharp as it drags on the stone floor. Blood seeps through the bandage in dark threads, sticky against the skin. The barracks is still. Most of the bedrolls lie empty; those still filled housing Yurik’s men. Bran’s company left before dawn to recruit the southern outlaws. Halric’s men followed soo...
2025-08-22 10:00:04 +0000 UTC View PostThe days bleed together in Maldor's laboratory, each one a haze of tedium and revulsion. The horrors of this task and place have worn off somewhat, dulled by repetition. I spend hours etching runes into severed flesh, arms, torsos, faces, Maldor having expanded my canvas to all areas of the body. Genitals are particularly uncomfortable to work w...
2025-08-21 10:00:05 +0000 UTC View PostThe feasting hall stinks of smoke, sweat, and spilled ale. Firelight flickers from the hearth, casting shadows across the stone walls. I sit hunched over some bread, chewing slowly, surrounded on all sides by brigands jostling for food and drink.
Runes weigh upon my thoughts as I take my meal, their shapes pressing always at the edge of my...
2025-08-20 10:00:10 +0000 UTC View PostI leave Maldor’s laboratory with a furrowed brow, thoughts crawling like his spiders. His magic still lingers in my mind, what he did to that creature... I don't fully grasp it, but I know I want no part of being on the other end of such a spell.
And Two expects me to kill him?
Perhaps a blade in the back would do it,...
2025-08-19 10:00:14 +0000 UTC View PostThe minutes crawl by slowly under the old fort. In the laboratory proper once more, I wait as ordered by Maldor. The smell still hangs in the air, sickening, almost literally so. I try to get accustomed, but my throat tightens with each breath and I feel light-headed. The sight of butchered limbs strewn across the area does little to quell ...
2025-08-18 10:00:04 +0000 UTC View PostI look to Two, eyes wide, heart pounding. But he's already released me, striding ahead without pause. I hurry to keep up as he stops before a large, weathered wooden door. I'm about to speak, to demand answers, but he lifts a finger to his lips, signaling silence.
"We're here," he murmurs.
That bastard... does he think I'm his do...
2025-08-15 10:00:07 +0000 UTC View PostI follow Two through the dark halls, our footsteps echoing against the cracked black stone. His quarters are larger than I expected, spacious. Though the stone remains chipped and crumbling in places, the furnishings are surprisingly refined. A solid wooden bed sits against the far wall, its frame thick and well-crafted. A round table is positio...
2025-08-14 10:00:06 +0000 UTC View PostThe next morning, a boot slams against the post beside my head.
"Up! On your feet, dogs!" Yurik's voice booms through the barracks like a warhorn.
Bran is already pulling blankets off men still groaning in their sleep, tossing them to the stone floor with little sympathy. "Move your arses before I move 'em for you!"
Around us, ...
2025-08-13 10:00:09 +0000 UTC View PostThe hall buzzes with life, torchlight flickering against rough stone walls. The long tables are already packed, wood groaning under the weight of trenchers piled with thick cuts of steaming meat, greasy legs of mutton, pork, loaves of coarse brown bread, pitchers of ale. The scent is thick, inviting and my stomach clenches tight.
Brigands ...
2025-08-12 10:00:15 +0000 UTC View PostI follow Hamza back to the alehouse, the door creaking on its hinges as we push inside.
Yurik stands among the brigands, sleeves rolled up, barking orders as they haul the loot from the past few weeks to a battered table at the center of the alehouse. He leans over it, inspecting each pouch of coin and crate of stolen goods, before grinnin...
2025-08-11 10:00:05 +0000 UTC View PostWork under Yurik is bleak, but easy. Shaking down merchants for coin. Accosting men on the road. I've not had to shed blood since that day, but Yurik seems satisfied with my work. And as the days go by, a small amount of trust is fostered. The brigands respect powerful fighters, imposing figures. By showing off my physical might, I can appeal to...
2025-08-08 10:00:05 +0000 UTC View PostMorning comes slow and ugly.
The alehouse reeks of smoke, stale ale, and unwashed bodies. Half the Knives are passed out in corners or slumped across broken benches. The rest nurse hangovers with greasy meat and bitter cider.
Yurik stands by the hearth, warhammer slung over one shoulder, barking orders as he tears a hunk of meat from...
2025-08-07 10:00:05 +0000 UTC View PostThe alehouse groans under the weight of too many bodies.
The brigands of the Bleeding Knives crowd the room shoulder-to-shoulder, filling it with pipe-smoke and drunken shouting.
Yurik holds court at the center, a keg tucked beneath one arm like a child’s toy, roaring with laughter as he guzzles straight from the tap. Ale spills do...
2025-08-06 10:00:06 +0000 UTC View PostThe days pass slowly and as Luna predicted, no one comes to recruit us.
So, we spend our time harassing the village in small ways, pilfering unattended goods, knocking over carts, frightening livestock, enough to cause a stir, but not enough to truly hurt anyone.
A poor choice it seems, as still, no one comes for us, despite our camp...
2025-08-05 10:00:07 +0000 UTC View PostThe night is brittle with the cold. We huddle around the fire beneath our cloaks and the scant blankets we brought, now stretched thinner with Luna among us. The moon hangs low and pale, barely illuminating the trees above. Dawn approaches, but it should be an our yet before it comes.
I look to the others, their breaths are slow and even.<...
2025-08-04 08:21:00 +0000 UTC View PostWilliam shoves past me with an eager grin, thrusting out a filthy hand.
"Evenin', m'lady," he says brightly. "Name's William, what could we do for a beautiful lass like yourself? I'd be more than happy to help you with anything you need."
He flashes a crooked grin, bold and unafraid.
But Luna barely spares him a glance. Irritat...
2025-08-04 08:20:00 +0000 UTC View PostWe make our way to the south gate, where a battered wagon waits. The old horse shifts impatiently in its harness, its breath misting in the chill air.
Seated atop the wagon is a familiar figure, Old Bram, the same carter who once ferried me into Ravencroft after I fled Mistvale.
He spots me and gives a tired smile, revealing a few mi...
2025-08-04 08:19:01 +0000 UTC View PostI pack as Zaenith instructs, carefully tucking each herb into its designated satchel. Dried wormwood, powdered bark, and sprigs of feverfew, all sorted with methodical precision. When I'm done, she hands me a tightly sealed leather costrel, thick, oiled, and stoppered with waxed cork, the sort used to store medicinal brews and strong liquor with...
2025-08-04 08:18:00 +0000 UTC View PostI return to the gaolhouse beneath grey morning light. The heavy oak door groans on its hinges as I push it open, stepping into the fetid dungeon. The gaoler sits behind his splintered desk, nursing a mug of something steaming.
He grimaces when he sees me, but makes no comment. We've grown accustomed to one another by this point.
“F...
2025-08-04 08:17:00 +0000 UTC View PostWe're led down a hall to a broad dining chamber. A long oak table at the center of the room, set for a meal. Roasted duck, buttered turnips, crusty brown bread, bowls of barley pottage, hard cheese, and a jug of watered wine, humble, but rich enough to mark the mayor's status and certainly better than what I'd normally eat.
At the far end,...
2025-08-04 08:16:01 +0000 UTC View PostIn the weeks that follow, I do not speak to or even see Luna or Ren. Whether they’re avoiding me or tending to business of their own, I can’t say... and I don’t seek them out either. I've my own pursuits to focus on.
I pore over Lucien’s scroll day after day, tracing each rune with aching fingers, repeating their shapes until they ...
2025-08-04 08:15:02 +0000 UTC View PostI step out through the heavy double doors of the counting house, the night air chilling my skin. Outside, beneath the half-lit sky, Luna and Ren wait near a frost-covered wagon, the wind tugging at their cloaks. Luna spots me at once, arms crossed, brows drawn tight.
"Finally," she says, voice edged with impatience. "We’ve been standing ...
2025-08-04 08:14:01 +0000 UTC View PostWe hurry through the smoldering streets. One by one, the fires are put out, the cold and wet wood aiding the efforts of the women, along with the plentiful snow. Men stalk the alleys with makeshift weapons, hunting for any brigands who remain. Order, or something close to it, slowly reasserts itself.
Ren breaks off without a word, vanishin...
2025-08-04 08:13:01 +0000 UTC View PostI trudge through the snow, each step slow, heavy. Smoke stings my eyes, and the air reeks of blood, piss, and ash. Women dart from house to house, tossing buckets onto flame-caught rooftops. Men pour from their doors, axes and farming tools in hand, faces pale but grim. Each one conscripted into the militia and ready to fight.
In the dista...
2025-08-04 08:11:01 +0000 UTC View PostChapter 43: A Town In Flames
Screams rip through the air like tearing cloth. The square erupts in chaos, families trampled beneath fleeing crowds, children lost in the crush. The obelisk stands untouched, but the ground around it runs dark with blood.
Smoke rises quickly as fire is set to the merchant tents. Straw an...
2025-08-04 08:09:00 +0000 UTC View Post“Of course you lost, fool boy. What did you think you’d accomplish in just a month?” Zaenith says as she wraps a length of boiled linen around my skull, binding the salve in place.
I grind the herbs, slow and steady, mixing more of the ointment for my own treatment, just as I was taught.
She continues, her voice smooth but cold...
2025-08-04 08:08:01 +0000 UTC View Post