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image by Dashinvaine SHE WAS PERFECTLY AWARE THAT SHE WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, but that had never prevented her from coming, her and Aideen. And most of the time, nobody found out about it. If they did, Artan d’Vadalis, her father and tierna of Merylsward, would pretend to grow angry, and uncle Kirrin would lecture them about the dangers of the wild. The effect of these sermons was to fan the girls’ appetite for adventure. Any punishment was merely making the game of not being found out more interesting. Lynn was not too certain where ‘here’ was, either, except that it was deep within the forest of the Eldeen, and

image by dashinvaine “STAND FIRM!”   The Thrane platoon was breaking. In front of her, a young man, isolated from the formation, fell to the sword of one of the reanimated rotting corpses that Karrnath had put into its black-and-red armour, the blade plunging into the man’s chest to the very hilt. “Trust in the Flame!” she yelled over the din, putting a crazy, almost fanatical energy into the words.   All around her, people scrambling for their horses which they had abandoned to investigate the scene of horror that lay before them pulled together in a defensive circle. She too had dismounted from Fiontán

image by dashinvaine FLAMEKEEP.       The spectacle that presented itself to the young girl was breath-taking. If Passage had seemed worryingly large to the Reacher, it dwindled before the glory of the capital of Thrane, second largest city on the continent, the power and brilliance of the Silver Flame made stone.   The Lightning Rail station of House Orien had been built immediately next to Archon Bridge, and offered the full view of the central city. Youngest of the capitals of the Five Nations, Flamekeep had been a minor castle but seven hundred years ago, when Wroat and Metrol were already old. Back then, Daskaran had been the capital

image by dashinvaine LYNN EYED HER OPPONENT CAREFULLY, her body in a defensive crouch. She had to beat him: they all relied on her.  But her challenger was good. His eyes gleamed with fierce, predatory battle fever, terrifying in his shifter’s face. He did not intend to let his prey escape, and he had all the advantages on his side. He was older than her, stronger too, and more experienced, and he was equally determined to win this encounter.   His reddish fur stood up with the excitement of the combat, enhancing the red whirls of battle-paintings on his chest, and his sharpened teeth gleamed in the taunting smile. The young weretouc

image by dashinvaine THALIOST WAS NOT A NICE PLACE, Lynn had decided after only one day. It was not only that the war was nowhere else in Eberron as present in the minds of people than here. Thaliost seemed to be a monument to the War, in a way that transcended mere historical and strategic concepts. As Aundair had not made any credible effort to retake their pre-Galifarian capital since the failed attempt nearly seventy years ago, the people resented their apparent abandonment by what they still considered their home nation almost as much as the occupation by Thrane. The heavy reprisals that followed Aundair’s last attempt at retaking

image by dashinvaine “WE DEMAND THAT THE ACCUSED BE PUT TO THE QUESTION!” Sithov shouted, red in the face and looking wilder than usual. “As recommended in the writings of Marial of Wyr.”   The tribunal had convened in a room Lynn had never seen before. Like the Divinity School, its ceiling and walls were kept in the most uplifting Flamic style, in stark contrast with the seriousness of the proceedings. Prosecution, in the form of Father Sithov, and defence, with Father Arrun, had taken their places in the opposing pulpits, carried on the wings of couatl, the simple elegance of Father Arrun’s appearance contrast

image by dashinvaine SHE DID NOT KNOW WHEN SHE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP, but she awoke to find herself bound to the back of a massive orc currently climbing a sheer cliff face. Her legs were tied on the orc’s belly, her arms firmly anchored under his armpits. Her first instinct was to escape her bindings, and her struggle alerted the orc. He held on firmly to the rock, trying not to lose his grip under her flaying. “Stop that,” he told her in a reasonable voice, “or we fall. You not prisoner. You sleep, so we attach you to bring you over mountains. You hang on. I climb.” That was all very well for him to say, but did

image by dashinvaine THE STENCH OF DECAY AND BLOOD HAD BECOME ALMOST OVERPOWERING. The odour here nearly made the twins gag, and around them, the herd of sheep they had been assigned to watch were getting nervous. Magebred sheep, they were, Vadalis’ magic turned to improve their wool and milk, much softer-haired than the regular sheep people herded in the Reaches, but they were still animals. As such, they had the wisdom to stay away from places that reeked of death.     The two shepherdesses had no such survival instinct, and went to investigate near the broch. It was one of numerous stone towers that stood around the Reaches to offe