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When Silmaria came back to herself she was lying on a soft, large, comfortable bed. A bed that size should have been draped in silks and finery, but instead was covered in simple, practical sheets of cotton and a heavy, warm wool comforter. The glow of a fire and a number of candles cast shifting shadows and orange light against the ceiling and walls.

Silmaria fought not to panic, she had no idea where she was.

The Gnari girl sat up to get a better view of the room. It was a simple and largely unadorned room and not especially large, but it seemed bigger than it was due to its near emptiness. There was a fireplace across the room from the bed and a well banked fire had recently been started and was now chasing the chill from the room. Over the mantle of the fireplace hung a small plaque displaying House IronWing’s coat of arms, and a portrait of a young couple posing together dressed in fine clothes. The man sat behind the woman, his hand resting on her brazenly exposed shoulder while she sat before and slightly lower than him, her hands folded demurely in her lap.

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DarkFyre Chapter Twenty

Silmaria’s heart beat violently, thudding unpleasantly in her breast. As the men stepped into their small camp she swallowed and fought to ignore the rising tide of panic threatening to drown her entirely. There were half a dozen of them, all armed and stepping with the confident, easy swagger of men who were comfortably acquainted with a great many kinds of violence. Dark eyes roved over her. She saw a flare of desire here, a glint of lewd interest there. Mostly, they looked curious, and...

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DarkFyre Chapter Eighteen

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The next morning was mild, if not as clear and sunny as the day before. Clouds hung in a haze over the sky, drab and dreary and promising cold and snow to come, but all in all it was a favorable day for the middle of a Dale winter. Rael was sitting against a wall in an alley mouth, studying the grand building across the street. He was on the opposite end of Trelling’s Rest, right in the heart of the Palace District, watching the Hall of Valor, home and seat of power for the Knight Brotherhood...

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DarkFyre Chapter Seventeen

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The next morning was mild, if not as clear and sunny as the day before. Clouds hung in a haze over the sky, drab and dreary and promising cold and snow to come, but all in all it was a favorable day for the middle of a Dale winter. Rael was sitting against a wall in an alley mouth, studying the grand building across the street. He was on the opposite end of Trelling’s Rest, right in the heart of the Palace District, watching the Hall of Valor, home and seat of power for the Knight Brotherhood...

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In the late morning hours the sun shone bright and glorious on Trelling’s Rest. The overcast clouds of yesterday’s snowfall had fled in the face of a clear and temperate day, the sort of mild and cheerful day DarkFyre Dale rarely saw this deep into winter. The snow underfoot gleamed pristine white under the sunshine, a blanket of innocence and purity cast over the countryside, a beautiful thing to behold. The Bear’s Maw was Trelling’s Rest’s main gate and the site of the majority of traffic in...

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DarkFyre Chapter TwentyTwo

The inn’s stillness and quiet was unnerving, the blackness of the halls and common room below an ominous contrast to the noise and bustle and light that should have been coming from downstairs this early into the night, just a few bare hours after sundown. Even with the flickering light of the candles at their bedside, the dark outside their room was so complete it left even her sharp eyes momentarily unable to pierce the gloom. The smell told her the danger first. Silmaria took a deep breath,...

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Even as the evening crept on the heat was palpable, a smothering blanket of energy sapping misery, dry and acrid. The only reprieve from the heat was the caress of the wind sweeping down the crags and valleys and rock formations, swirling along the brief stretches of flatlands that reached out between the red stones, or whipping along jagged, flinty corners of standing stones, clustered cliffs, and miniature mountains. The wind whistled a plaintive lament through the land’s many cracks and...

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The mild weather snuck away in the night, setting the stage for their departure, to be a much more bitterly cold and uncomfortable affair. After sundown the temperature dropped until snow fell in a scintillating curtain of white, crystal-soft flakes. They danced along the wind, dazzling and fleeting in the moonlight as they did somersaults and dizzying spiral dives before collecting in a graceless mass grave all along the docks, their frantic, joyful celebration of cold and movement and life...

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DarkFyre Chapter Twenty

Silmaria’s heart beat violently, thudding unpleasantly in her breast. As the men stepped into their small camp she swallowed and fought to ignore the rising tide of panic threatening to drown her entirely. There were half a dozen of them, all armed and stepping with the confident, easy swagger of men who were comfortably acquainted with a great many kinds of violence. Dark eyes roved over her. She saw a flare of desire here, a glint of lewd interest there. Mostly, they looked curious, and...

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Her eyes slowly opened, brilliant green wide eyes the color of emeralds or the green, green grass that grew in the gardens during the all too brief months of spring and summer. They were slitted. Like a cats, people would always say. Even after all this time, she couldn’t help roll her eyes when someone said that. It was so… cliché. Obvious. Obvious or not, it was still pretty accurate. Like a cats, Silmaria’s eyes were slitted, sure. They also saw incredibly well in the dark. The room was...

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Rael still wasn’t sure he was making the right choice. He was torn between feeling he was abandoning his duty and honor, and the certainty that remaining here at the war camp meant it was only a matter of time before another assassination attempt came. He was no coward, to run from death. Yet at the same time, neither was he a fool. The unusual methods taken against him left him certain that he was dealing with no ordinary assassins, and that his chances of surviving another attempt were grim...

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‘If ye can spare a moment, Milord, I’m ready to report.’ Rael looked up from a map covering the huge pinewood table in his tent. A variety of similar maps and charts were arrayed on the table and rolled into tubes propped against the desk. There were writing supplies and a sheaf of fresh paper at the Knight Captain’s elbow. StoneFingers was standing at the flap of Rael’s tent. The Dwarf looked like many of his brothers, short and stout, built like an anvil and twice as hard, with a short,...

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