Recent content by Jame Hawthorne

James watched the man move through his speech - and he understood it well enough. This didn't happen, James never saw the boy, never saw this Hound on the road. He didn't get a purse from him, nor did he have anything to do with what occured. Throwing the gold onto the ground seemed rather...

"Wasn't paid to track. Was paid to bring him home.", James said as he licked at some particle of meat stuck in his teeth. "Well - wasn't paid yet. Won't be paid now. Get the problem?" James noticed how the man's accent had shifted, perhaps to a more natural intonation. It was northern, trudged...

"Matters not to me if you're standin' or sittin'.", he said as he leaned back slightly. "Wouldn't do you much good anyway. Crowded market like this - that mount's more hinderance than calvary.", He spit heavy on the ground, clearing his throat before offering a heavy, more relaxed sigh than he...

The slash on the belly strap was clean, perfect in its strike - but the man had predicted it. Squeezing his legs, he had forced the saddle to remain, and the trained mare kept its composure despite the knick to its gut. Annoying, James thought as he put his dagger into a sheathe in his armpit...

James had been confident in his approach, his hunt, until the prey acted strangely. He had been convinced that man was little more than ruffian with some skill in the blade, but as he paused, looked about, then moved back towards many of the guards - James knew something was off. There was no...

It was easier in a town to hide plate and armor, simply by virtue of population. A cloak of thick, dark material made it hard to notice the gleam of oil rubbed metal beneath it, though those closest to James noticed well enough. The average villager avoided men in armor - they knew well enough...

The sun had just started to come up - and the day was beginning to come alive. Birds, bees, the sound of life as the common man knew it. James found them all a bit odd, he was used to living and hunting at night, when men slept and the false promise of safety let them slip off into nothing. It...

______________________________ Ida-Hurapu. Jewel of the Baal-Asha River and totality of Southern Amol-Kalit’s massive slave trade; Ida-Hurapu’s inhabitants experience a higher status of living than most, often with land owning farmers given droves of slaves to ensure a constant export of grain...

How do I always end up in this shit?, James silently thought to himself. The fact was he’d seen numerous destructive instances between mages, and he even made it his usual thing to just avoid them entirely. The Kavosh was supposed to be an exception for the sake of the gold, and yet here he...

Rundal watched as the two fought against the dwarves, and did their best to survive despite being outnumbered five to one. Surprisingly, they did excellent, sustaining only minor injuries and killing or disabling all but three of the dwarves. A shame they weren’t perfect, but it was suffice in...

James was never the greatest at sensing magic, but he certainly could feel tension in the air. He heard the boots from afar, but something in him kept telling him to push forward despite the obvious dangers of offering their position so willingly. When he finally made the connection to a distant...

James looked back as Maho mentioned his success. Somehow, the bounty hunter expected after his departure to be forced to run from the camp and simply face the tunnels under his own volition, and yet here the fire mage had returned unto him with dwarven map in hand. All of this seemed offly...

As far as jobs went, clearing out a few bandits was right up James’s alley. Add on the benefit of a few others, and the element of surprise, and he wasn’t that against taking the easy money. Lords knew he needed it, as the Allirian loan sharks closed in once again for their pittance interest...

As human peasants often did, James Hawthorn sat at a table with his second mug of beer, though he’d only been there for a short few minutes thus far. In truth, it was supposed to be a shortstop, a stop between here and the brothel down the street, but as the scarred man glanced up he watched as...

Hawthorne failed to respond as he offered him a chance at a map of the tunnels. Instead, he stood idle, his expression hidden behind his helmet and mask, as though he were nothing more than a dwarven statue honoring their elders. Yet, despite his seemingly unthinking, unfeeling exterior, he...