Chapter 8.49 M – Revised
Word count: 36862
Released on: Oct. 27, 2021, 12:38 a.m.
Last edited: March 16, 2023, 6:25 p.m.
Book: Unreleased (0)
Some honourable mentions
| Name | Count |
| Feshi Weatherfur | 241 |
| Rags | 148 |
| Mrell | 99 |
Some honourable mentions
| Name | Count |
| [Merchant] | 13 |
| [Shaman] | 13 |
| [Smith] | 11 |
Some honourable mentions
| Name | Count |
| [Deflecting Slashes] | 1 |
| [Grasshopper’s Run] | 1 |
| [Marathon Run] | 1 |
Some honourable mentions
| Name | Count |
| [Light] | 1 |
| [Silence] | 1 |
| [Spark] | 1 |
Some honourable mentions
| Name | Count |
| Izril | 21 |
| Pallass | 21 |
| Walled Cities | 12 |
Mentions
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Name | Text |
|---|---|
| [General] | Diamond. An onyx-colored blade, but not onyx in nature. One of the world’s most valuable minerals, smelted or forged somehow into this dagger. It would be a weapon worthy of any [General]. Yet it was more than mere ornamentation. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | If she put the little carved sigil to her ear, Feshi could swear she heard it whispering. She told herself it was nonsense. But the Diamond Dagger of Serept did contain… |
| Serept | If she put the little carved sigil to her ear, Feshi could swear she heard it whispering. She told herself it was nonsense. But the Diamond Dagger of Serept did contain… |
| Khelt | Souls. If she called for them, they would come. Great warriors, long deceased, guardians of Khelt who would protect and serve anyone who bore the blade. More than that, the edge could corrupt any wound it caused. Those struck dead by it would rot away and rise as Ghouls in service to the master. She had not known that last part until she had been told, and it made her fur crawl. |
| Khelt | Here was a dread blade. Here was a weapon worthy of a warlord leading a legion of darkness. Yet it was hers. Hers and not hers; it would return to Khelt after she died, as she had promised. But she owned it, and it was hers because of her adventure at sea. But it wasn’t hers—not really. It was Wil’s. She had tagged along on their grand adventure, following his map. She had won this dagger entirely by chance. |
| Wil Kallinad | Here was a dread blade. Here was a weapon worthy of a warlord leading a legion of darkness. Yet it was hers. Hers and not hers; it would return to Khelt after she died, as she had promised. But she owned it, and it was hers because of her adventure at sea. But it wasn’t hers—not really. It was Wil’s. She had tagged along on their grand adventure, following his map. She had won this dagger entirely by chance. |
| [Strategist] | It’s just more proof you’re meant to be the greatest Weatherfur of our generation. So her parents had claimed. They were beyond proud of her. The [Strategist] who attended the Titan’s Academy on scholarship. The genius of their tribe. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | Feshi Weatherfur turned the dagger over again, then put it back in the magical sheath custom-made to hold it. She rose from her tent, festooned with books, maps, gifts, possessions—a yurt just for her. An honor for someone so young. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | Everything was an honor. Feshi shook her head unhappily as she emerged from her tent. She looked about and saw some of Weatherfur’s guards spot her. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | Feshi wasn’t tall by her people’s standards. Humans remarked on it, as did Lizardfolk, who were quite short until they became a variant of Naga. Feshi had white stripes mixed with russet fur, and that normal pattern of Gnoll fur was changed again by colorful patterns of yellow, blue, and even hints of green or purple. Mostly the first two colors, patterned on her arms. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | Feshi wasn’t tall by her people’s standards. Humans remarked on it, as did Lizardfolk, who were quite short until they became a variant of Naga. Feshi had white stripes mixed with russet fur, and that normal pattern of Gnoll fur was changed again by colorful patterns of yellow, blue, and even hints of green or purple. Mostly the first two colors, patterned on her arms. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | Weatherfur’s Gnolls were more colorful than most you’d find at the Meeting of Tribes because they had access to plentiful dyes and loved to apply them to their fur. They didn’t come out with water, so Feshi only had to reapply them once a week. Plus, she wore long earrings, two links of beads dangling from her right ear—none on her left. That had a meaning too, although it was only here, at the Meeting of Tribes, that she wore them. |
| Baleros | Earrings could be torn out in battle, so she had wisely removed them in Baleros. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | “Honored Feshi, the Chieftain is meeting with Gaarh Marsh’s Chieftain and Shaman regarding what should be done about the Drakes. Do you wish to join your Aunt? We shall escort you if so—the Meeting of Tribes is hectic.” |
| Rags | “Honored Feshi, the Chieftain is meeting with Gaarh Marsh’s Chieftain and Shaman regarding what should be done about the Drakes. Do you wish to join your Aunt? We shall escort you if so—the Meeting of Tribes is hectic.” |
| Rags | “Honored Feshi, the Chieftain is meeting with Gaarh Marsh’s Chieftain and Shaman regarding what should be done about the Drakes. Do you wish to join your Aunt? We shall escort you if so—the Meeting of Tribes is hectic.” |
| [Guard] | One of the [Guards] addressed her, with even a slight nod of the head. Honored Feshi. She grimaced. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | One of the [Guards] addressed her, with even a slight nod of the head. Honored Feshi. She grimaced. |
| Feshi Weatherfur | He bowed his head to her. Feshi cast her eyes around. The Great Plains of Izril looked beautiful by dawn, as light changed the color of the grasslands. Golden dawn’s light dripped over the landscape, like an inkwell slowly spilling over a world of green. It was not monochrome like the steppes, but had a bounty in plants fighting with the grasses, medicinal herbs, magical seedlings, forests and lakes—all interspersed across thousands upon thousands of miles. |
| Izril | He bowed his head to her. Feshi cast her eyes around. The Great Plains of Izril looked beautiful by dawn, as light changed the color of the grasslands. Golden dawn’s light dripped over the landscape, like an inkwell slowly spilling over a world of green. It was not monochrome like the steppes, but had a bounty in plants fighting with the grasses, medicinal herbs, magical seedlings, forests and lakes—all interspersed across thousands upon thousands of miles. |
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