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Estarfin

Of Spiders and Snakes

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

“Sit down!” Rainith told Parnard. “If you keep hopping up and down, you will be worn out before we reach our destination.”

The Ruined House

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

I went to the Hall of Fire and sat, and drank a bottle or two of wine. Sogadan told me how Lord Belegos is angry with his friend Estarfin. I said I was not surprised in the least; I had just come from that fell warrior’s home and his face was smeared with blood. It seems he spares no one in his wrath, not even himself.

Preparations

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

A Display of Character

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Continued from A Hard Lesson

“And that is what I heard happened to the Lady Danel. It was a training lesson, that is all, nothing more, nothing less,” Sogadan finished.

The Shifting Paths

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

In a wide room arrayed with all manner of decorations, 

Unexpected Aid

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

He stood silently by the window, deep in thought as he stared out across the valley. The leaves had turned from green to gold, and from gold to brown, and he could feel the time slipping away. Winter would follow soon, and many of the passes would become closed until spring arrived, the chance to leave the valley lost. The last of the day’s sunlight flowed lazily through the thick glass, casting his shadow across the richly-inlaid desk behind him. A map and a letter lay upon the desk, but otherwise it was bare.

A Hard Lesson

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Estarfin turned the large brass key in the lock, hearing the mechanism click open. Pulling the heavy ash door open, he stepped inside the dark room, the torch that he carried flickering as a breeze caught it. He thrust the torch into an iron loop that hung upon the wall and looked around the Vanimar armoury. There were weapons of all varieties hanging upon the walls, or stacked on shelves. Large war hammers lay propped against the wall, next to a rack of delicate single-handed swords.

A Quiet Morning

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

 

Repairing the Damage

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Pulling it from the sheath, I saw that the blade was indeed as she had described it; of good quality, but worn and needing care. I swung the sword with one hand, nodding with satisfaction that it still sang as it cleaved the air: the blade had life in it yet. Running my finger along the flat of the blade, I searched for the balance point. I shook my head slightly as I found it, far too far ahead of the guard. That would lead to overbalanced strikes, and would cause fatigue of the forearm quickly.

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