faithkendall

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ See this chapter in it's original format here: http://www.argentarchives.org/Triss ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The memories washed over her, ferocious and demanding. She lived each one again as if they were happening for the first time. They arrived in a jumble of chaos, out of sequence and jarring. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ She awoke shivering. The cold was so complete that it sunk deep into her bones and fragmented ther

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Find this story in it's original format here: http://www.argentarchives.org/node/74645 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The moonlight tried its best, but Keith Greymantle's battered plate was unable to elicit a dramatic gleam as he strode over blue-grass towards Triss de Lancrét. Without sword or bow, she drew herself up and squared lean shoulders, defiant in the face of their judgement, stamping her fear under one booted heel and grinding it into the dirt. No fear. They'll never say you

Triss blinked in a new and sudden dawn. Not dead then. Good. That's something. Colour bled slowly into the world, and her eyes watered as they fought to adjust. She had been falling in darkness, but her plummet had ended as abruptly as it began, leaving her alone in engulfing shadow and silence. Now it was as if someone was granting sight to her eyes once more, turning a bone dial at a torturous pace. Then the veil was torn back all at once, confounding her senses with an overload of stimulation. And not the good kind. She twisted in place and choked on a gasp, the memory of pain bright in her mind. Her foot was caught on something and s

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ See this story in its proper format here: http://www.argentarchives.org/node/73523 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ironforge roared. It was a machine of a city, a turbulent, ever-moving thing, born of the fires and shaped in steel. The heat was intense and prevalent, enough to strip the breath from the unwary. Those unused to the constant ebb and flow of the fires were conspicuous enough, bringing dripping handkerchiefs to their brows to mop away sweat called up in response to the pulsing swe

She found Kaisis halfway down one of the many Menethil piers, tall and resolute in his silence. The moonlight made a ghostly sculpture of him, an exquisite statue chiselled by a skilled hand. He was carved from pale marble in the cold light and his noble bearing would liken him to a king of old, but for the shadow of rot that crept up his throat, grasping and dark fingers of decay that seemed poised to choke. Triss studied him quietly as she approached, her boots making little noise on the timber. In truth, she was a touch alarmed at the sight of him, a shade fearful; the joyless light stole him from her completely and left an inhuman phantom