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The wolf loped purposefully across the snow-laced tundra, its thick, white, fur billowing in the chilling wind. It had no need for scent, as that which it sought, no prey, had left droplets of blood ...

Scar took the letter from the courier and paid him generously, declining to ply him with questions about the letter or Deminatza. After reading it, he penned a short reply for the messenger to take b ...

*a courier has delivered the following letter to Eclyse Christian at Ashencrosse*

Dear Eclyse,

Greetings.

I pray all is well with you and all my friends of Ashencrosse. As you may have been ...

Having slain dozens of orcs inhabiting the small fort near Ashencrosse, and searching their premises, and corpses, especially of the mages, Scar was convinced they had nothing to do with the depredati ...

It had been quite some time since he had traveled this area. South, southeast from Ashecrosse lay a stretch of forest that he called "Treefellow Forest" named after its occupants, guardians ...

Scar caught himself staring blankly into the bottom of the mug that lay empty on the table at which he sat. Unthinkingly, he reached to his right to take the half-filled ale bottle to replenish the m ...

It was time to do something drastic.

Deminatza now knew that she had a history, a life, in another place, in another time, and that it was not with him.

The Elder paced, brooding over current ev ...

Scar sneered when he saw the poster at the bank in Skara Brae. Despite onlookers, he ripped it off the wall and tossed it into the street. I'll give you a tonic! he muttered as he walked away.

"So, he is alive." It was a remark not a question. The Elder paced the floor of the darkened room, pondering this new information. Behind him, twenty feet away stood the bearer of the bad ...

The loose-fitting clothing helped ward off the heat a little, but nothing could completely offset the swelter from the skin paint. It was water-proof, so he knew it would not be seen to run like some ...

Things were heading south quickly. He had tried, and failed, to rid himself of Poppy, feigning the righteous indignation he displayed toward her in front of Deminatza, and Darthos had certainly been ...

Jace, Scar's supposed son by the Papuan tart Poppy, was alive and sleeping in a bed at the healer's hut in his native village. His mother watched over him, seated as she was by his bedside. She kept ...

The tiny cave in which he rested seemed home to him now. Scar lay upon its cool floor and gazed out its only opening, able to view the concealing foilage draped over the entrance, and just above it, ...

Darthos was beginning to feel comfortable in the sweltering jungle town. Although the bright sunshine was a constant concern and irritant when any rays found his skin exposed, he was moving about fre ...

She came out of nowhere... the vision of great white she-wolf, its ice-blue eyes peering straight at him, evoking the impression of dignity, confidence, and regality. He knew who it was instinctively ...