Primate Typings

            The fog was heavy in the valley, draping itself over every boulder and loop of the path the travelers found themselves on three days later. Their current destination led only indirectly to the Nameless Sword. Arva had an idea for avoiding Einian’s attention once they entered her caves, and that meant taking them to see the fearsome Yudoko. (more…)

            The shore along the south-in arm of the continent consisted of cliffs that loomed far over the sea. Gnarly seawood clung to the sheer rock, thriving in the harsh environment where the waves crashed into stone. Hardy sea folk cruised up and down the shoreline, harvested the wood, and returned to their seaside villages carved into the cliffs. The seawood was tough but buoyant, making it perfect for the ships of the Zonne empire. Indeed, late in the evenings, the old sailors would tell their children a legend of how, to defeat an invading armada, a Zonne princess and her love sacrificed themselves on the cliffs to grow a navy from the seawood forests. (more…)

            Sanura boosted her husband into his saddle, distressed by how light he was getting. His illness had continued it unstoppable march across his body, until its brown splotches were more common than his gray skin. Exhausted by the day’s ride, he no longer even gave a pretense of helping with the camp in the evening. The mornings were even worse. This last morning, Sanura had to feed and dress him before finally breaking camp. Only by recalling how much he improved while riding on previous days could she bring herself to allow him to mount Grass Eater. (more…)

            The snow had been melting over the last few days, cold crystals transformed into drops that slipped through their still frozen cousins and into the ground. Even at the heights the travelers had camped at, the crystals of the first snowstorm rarely survived their first few days, much less the entire firerest. (more…)

            Her prison was buried deep in the mountain, a pocket of air no larger than a coffin. Sanura woke with a start, despite lingering pangs from a crack to her head she received during her fall. She tried to sit up in the darkness, immediately damaging her skull again as it bounced off the ceiling right above her. A tidal wave of panic washed over her as she stretched out to explore the true limits of her confinement. The terror in her swelled and refused to recede. (more…)

            To his surprise, the burning sun did not tire Celeres as much as he expected. That first day in the desert had been one long run, fleeing ahead of the arrival of Prince Emhyr, but as the sun set, he still felt strong enough to continue long into the night. A gradual lightheadedness that caused him to stumble several times finally convinced him to collapse for the night. He pulled out a blanket, one of the few items in the pack, and curled up to sleep. (more…)

            Sanura’s head pounded in time with her heart, adding a tinge of misery to her victory over Einian. “But it wasn’t me,” she said.

            “Well, it wasn’t any of the rest of us. She died after you stuck the sword in her, which suggests it must have been you,” Arva argued. (more…)

            Celeres found that the gold masks held little regard for the blood knights. As the only one dressed in red livery traveling with the Prince, the thirty men and women in yellow let him know just what they thought of an army built from thieves and criminals. Having lived in Tagerden, Celeres was tempted to point out just how corrupt the average gold mask was but prudently kept his opinions to himself. Not that he had many opportunities to express them, given the habit of the gold masks to exclude him from any conversation. (more…)