The dead man sat up from the stone slab upon which he had been laid out, and groped for something sharp, which he might then plunge into his right eye.
What a great opening! Look at all the stuff happening. Who is this dead man? Why does he want to stab out his eye?
Chapter three returns us to Yuyu. It opens with this whole long fakeout where he’s desperately running from a terrifying pursuer and it turns out to be training by Dace. (more…)
Last time, Holok made a big deal about caring for all of god’s creatures unlike those filthy anathema despite being a member of the faction defined around using anything and everyone they can to accomplish their goals while Yuyu generic newbie adventurered at us.
Today, three horsemen in a shadowland, presumably because the fourth horseman seemed redundant. (more…)
Last time, sues, sues everywhere. (more…)
“Dace, would you please tell me what’s going on before my feet fall off?”
Yuyu continues not to accept that they’re in danger because he’s such a sue he knows he’ll be fine. (more…)
Last time, sues and people making the world’s suffering all about them.
Today, it’s back to Sijan and Ratcatcher, where he observes the docks are surprisingly poorly defended given this is the obvious direction for someone who doesn’t breathe. There are some guards with halberds and hand-axes so already they seem unwilling to properly commit to the idea that you should keep them at range. (more…)
The glow Wren had seen turned out to be cast by a row of thighbones, hammered into sconces and burning like candles. They lined the wall of the chamber he stumbled into out of the dark and gave it a warm, almost friendly glow.
Well, that’s unexpected and yet perfect, isn’t it? (more…)
We return to Idli and the monster he’s escorting. (more…)
Oh god it’s Holok again. That means it’s time for
To say that Holok’s appearance at the mouth of the waterfront alley caused consternation would be a vast and telling understatement. Contained within that alley were several of Port Calin’s less savory citizens, none of whom expected to ever pass within a hundred yards of an Immaculate priest until they died, and even then it was even money their bodies would simply be dumped in the river. Occupying the space within this rough circle of bravos, cutthroats, slitpurses and ruffians was a dice game, one in which several of the aforementioned unsavory types were deeply involved. It was a gesture demonstrating the depth of magnanimity which permeated Holok’s heart that he did not call for the watch to shut the game down, and a further testament to that sterling quality that…
And it just. Keeps. Going. (more…)
Last time, timeline questions and lava everywhere. (more…)
Now we’re back with Pelesh, the mortal who counts coins and beats Ratcatcher at social combat. (more…)
It’s back to Holok and sentences that take forever to get to the point. Today: Ketchup and the Isle drink fancy delicate tea, Holok is rustic and likes crappy rustic tea. Why is it the only thing people are willing to go fuck aristocracy about is stuff that’s really just cultural? Anyway, point is he’s enjoying some properly rustic nettle tea right now, blah blah better than you. (more…)
Last time, die already Holok. (more…)
