The Necromage walked across the desert, clutching a staff that carried a serpent twisted around the oak. The hand wrapped around it was bone with desiccated skin stretched taught.Continue reading “Dragon Stone: Necromage”
“The Emerald has conditions. Iolas is to remain here as eyes to reveal when the infiltrators try to follow through with their task. Everyone else goes through. Afterwards, all return, including you, Ehrendil, and all those exiled. Your task is to regain control of the Ljósálfar and banish all who stand against you.”Continue reading “Dragon Stone: Portal”
Flynne smiled, recollecting the frustration Mortain was renowned for. Cryptic over clarity. Her mind was tempered by the allusion to another oncoming storm. She suspected he inferred the necromage was not deadContinue reading “Dragon Stone: Return of The Crow”
The three Key Masters convened an hour before the summons of the Assassins Guild Master, Lord Cresswell.
“Jeremiah, have you learned anything about the crow prophecy?” The Amanuensis added flame to candles on a large table inside the Vault’s antechamber.Continue reading “Dragon Stone: Key Master”
“The greatest threat to peace are fanatics. I unearthed a parchment deep inside the vault. The Magi of Enigma were such a sect whose sole ambition was genocide.” Jeremiah Delalande, Lecture on Thaumaturgical Archaeology.Continue reading “Dragon Stone: The Magi of Enigma”
“It came from an imaginary dragon that was a carving of an owl on that staff wielded by a madman. He said it was a Dragon Stone.”
“The Sapphire,” Yish knelt to look at it. “Naz, that means….”Continue reading “Dragon Stone: The Sapphire”
“A stone of power is a relic from a bygone era. Well known in lore, but existing as myth. The wise Mage would do well to let them remain unfound.” Lord Creswell, Assassins Guild.Continue reading “Dragon Stone: High Elf”
When the sun sets before nightfall and mist flows like blood, it’s too late to run.
Author: G. Jefferies
On the next waking he sensed his grip on the past failing fast. All save one that came to him in a dream deep inside the unconscious abyss. The girl he saw was bewitched and vacant. Her dress ripped down to the waist exposing skin and breast red with blood that seeped from two wounds in her neck. Runes were etched on each wall and upon the floor was drawn a massive pentagram whose points were connected by a circle of white. Continue reading “Dead Man Walking III”
Author: G. Jefferies
Wayland found consciousness on the journey back as the cart rumbled over uneven ground and wagon ruts baked under the sun. He was under damp sacking which offered some relief from the heat above but his body felt on fire. Strange deliriums walked across his mind. Dragons weaving and scorching the earth and strange creatures flying overhead though he knew his eyes were not ready to open. He could hear hushed voices in the front of the palanquin. They sounded concerned, almost scared.