Arianna proves to be a bit difficult to find. Her trail is faint and even more difficult to follow in the dark. When the others do find her, their first sign is a soft, stifled sob coming from the shadow of a tree with low hanging branches. They find Arianna curled up in a nook between two of the roots, the bag of gear laying open a few feet to the side. Her hands clutch a longsword, Raakuzedu'lon'ros' longsword.
"Th-they're not coming back, ar-are they," she stammers out, barely in control of her voice, "B-b-brax and K-kuze, th-they're d-d-d-dead. I-I heard him, th-the dr-dragon m-m-m-man."
Arianna looks up at Eska, her eyes red and wet with tears that had left trails in the dirt on her face. Her eyes are hollow with fear that it was all she could do to control.
"E-eska? Wh-who is that woman, M-m-mondath? Wh-wh-why do I remember her," she asks in a strained, frightened voice.
Eska's anger is tempered as she stumbles upon Arianna well hidden but her cries give her away. Eska reaches up to touch her own face without even meaning to do so. ~Dry, no tears~ she wonders at that as well as the question the elf poses to her.
Eska recovers her Dragon Fang something reassuring about having it by her side. Then helps Arianna up wincing as she does so because of her many wounds "We gotta keep moving"
"Frulam Mondath... She says the name as if tasting it. She's the reason I'm here. Not old man Leo. One of the Generals of the Cult of Dragon. Wicked to the core and one of The Three that took my life away from me. I suppose I'm not the only one she's done an unkindness to...
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Arianna accepts the help like a child. She clings to the sword like a totem against the encroaching darkness. She hadn't liked Raakuze, not even a little, but she hadn't wanted him dead, either. Brax's death, on the other hand, hurt. It stung more sorely than any wound she'd ever taken.
"I-I guess," is all Arianna can muster to say for a long time. Gathering their gear, Arianna moves mechanically, as if all of the fire and zeal in her had been snuffed out. Perhaps it had. She moved as if it took everything she had to just keep going. It's a long while before she speaks again.
"I can't remember much of anything from more than ten years ago," she tells Eska, "and what I can is full of pain, blood, fire, and screams. B-but I remember her, now. I can remember her laughing and taunting me as I'm being tortured, as I'm screaming. I used to have nightmares, terrible nightmares that I could barely remember, but now... I'm scared. I'm scared of what is waiting in my dreams tonight."
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Eska moves for the two of them feeling somehow older than her years. It's strange, the way Arianna clings to Raakuze's sword like the only candle against the encroaching darkness. She liked Raakuze, he was all sorts of strange but there was something kindred deep inside. He was fierce, like a dragon despite his crippled body. She hadn't wanted him dead but she thinks he would be at peace knowing his companions were safe and their mission was accomplished; a blow struck against the Cult of Dragon that they are yet unaware of. These thoughts fuel the growing fire and zeal in her. Tired and hurt she moves steady and with sure purpose ~Always keep moving~ one of Three-Dogs lessons.
As Arianna recounts her tale Eska can't help but recognize the familiarity. It wouldn't have taken much for her to be in Arianna's position right now defeated, just a tweak here or there.
Arianna's words jostle a memory loose. Eska speaks her thoughts aloud but to no one in particular. "The nightmares never stopped for me. But I own them now. I Soar...and when I dream, it is their world on Fire"
"You are braver than I am, Eska," Arianna replies, "you went back to help. I... I just ran for my life, and now their dead."
Her voice breaks as she begins to quietly weep as she walks.
"I failed them. I failed all of them."
Raakuze's head is tossed around like a trophy between the kobolds, blood spattering all over the place as they cheer their victory. Langdedrosa has little patience for the celebration, and demands the head returned so he may tie it around his waist. This is the last thing Brax is able to see as he descends to the bottom of the camp.
Luckily, the commotion of the escape and the alarm being raised meant that the four prisoners went unguarded, though shackled to a pole with a rusty lock. They look up at Brax despondently as he runs towards them.
The heavy breath and howl of the dragon dogs becomes ever more distant as Arianna, Eska, and James plow through the brush back towards where the rearguard were, using the outcrops as cover.
Leosin limps his way towards the party, panting. "I... I.. never did thank you, did I?" The monk shrugs, resting against a boulder as he catches his breath. "Foolish of them to not just immediately slaughter us, but I suppose they underestimated your guile." Leosin manages a smirk, dirt crumbling off of his face.
He looks at Arianna, Eska, and James, as if to count out three. "The dwarf. Do you think he made it?"
Arianna sadly shakes her head.
"H-he was with R-raakuze," she croaks out.
"Yea I've got guile to spare. I've been buried alive in a burning house. Their Dragon killed me once too...i think? Supposed I didn't much enjoy it on the other side of the Reaper's Gate. So i came back sent it packing, tail between its legs..." Eska pauses not sure where she's going with this train of thought.
She rallies "My point is miracles DO happen. Maybe we don't give up so soon and keep our wits about our current situation, eh?"
She continues trying to get the group to cover as much ground as they are able back towards Greenest.
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"How much do you believe in miracles, sweet Eska?" James asks her with the smirk of one whose stock-in-trade are miracles. "Enough to call a halt and take pause here to see if Master Brax can do with some assistance?
If you're right, you'll be offering needed aid to a comrade who narrowly escaped death.
If you're wrong you'd be wagering our lives for a fools errand.
How choose you?"
He waits with the air of a man who knows that only in peril do you -truly- know someone.
Brax comes charging up to where the prisoners are shackled, takes his axe and begins to swing at the rusty padlock. "Pull on 'em chains fer all ye be worth. Ye lives depend on it!" he says hoarsely in between swings.
"Finally found your tongue Jester?" She gives the man a cold appraising look as he poses his question. The events since meeting him have done little to assuage her belief that this man was any more than a fraud. Unsurprising given his extravagant bluster.
His words at least give her a moment to pause and consider the situation. She didn't feel like much of a leader but it seems their course was hers to decide right now.
"We'll make for the outcrop. Our enemies keep underestimating us so I doubt they will send their best and brightest to continue this merry little chase. As is we'd never out run a dedicated pursuit anyway.
It's getting dark so any human's will have torches and kobolds are too talkative for stealth. Keep your light low White-Angel I've got night-eyes so I'll spot for us. This way if they come for us we'll know and at least we'll have range and cover. If one of ours makes it out of the camp they'll know to make for this spot anyway. Worst comes to worse we scatter."
Arianna feels numb as they approach the outcropping. Her emotions are too whipsawed by the events of the past day to really think about what is going on. She only follows the others' orders. She dons her armor and gathers up her weapons and hanging Raakuze's sword from her back. After a few minutes, she hunkers down in a good hiding spot with a view of the approach from the camp and waits.
With three mighty swings, Brax cleaves through the cheap rope used to bind the prisoners. "W-what? You're saving us?" A dimunitive half-elf scoots back, looking nervously at Brax. His eyes shift between the other prisoners, and then back up at Brax as he gets to his feet. "Sinister as these raiders may be, craftiness is not their forte. I doubt this is some scheme," he breathes in relief, rubbing his bruised wrists. "My name is Falros," he coughs. "We should go quickly, they will soon come back down this way." He's quick to convince the others to go, and they soon follow Brax...
With the already-disorganized camp distracted by Langdedrosa's boastful antics, no one at all seems to notice the prisoners' escape under cover of night.
Eska, Arianna, and James notice the five figures approach the outcroppings, and once they're close enough, it becomes clear to those in the outcrops that it's the burnt orange beard flowing down across Brax's armor.
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Eska keeps a vigilante watch for whatever may be coming their way. Arianna is beside her but the other woman's stare is vacant so much so that she doesn't notice the five figures marching straight towards them in the gloom. Eska readies herself for the worst but she notices something familiar. She nudges Arianna out of her reverie. "Hey, I know that beard!"
She climbs the rocks and hails them "Ho, Rocksteady. I knew you were to tough to shake. Even brought company, thought I told you to leave em you stubborn ox. Glad you didn't listen to me though." see scans the crowd as they get closer but the near-giant Raakzue was obviously not with them. The thought saddens her and her knees go weak for a moment.
She hops down and addresses the newcomers. "You lot, welcome to The Crew. We got some gear here if you've a strong enough arm. I suggest you best hold something pointy in it. We're on the move to Greenest."
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"Me name's Brax," the dwarf replies to Falos. "An me wishes we were meetin' under better times, but ye have th' right of it. We need ta move quickly fore they realize ye've been sprung."
As Brax shepherds the group out of the camp and into the wilderness, he falls in next to Falros. "Be anythin' ye kin tell me 'bout yer captors or anythin' ye might 'ave seen back there?" Remembering Raakuze's head displayed like a hunting trophy, the dwarf lets out a deep breath to allow himself to speak his next words without being overcome with emotion. "The lot of ye be free now, an I'm a see to it ye get back to yer families, but one of me companions will not get ta do th' same because he 'elped buy yer freedom with his life. Anythin' ya might know of 'em cultists, what they be plannin. Anythin'," Brax says, "'d be a start toward th' justice I aim ta dispense ta them dragun wurshipin' scum."
As the group moves further away from the camp, the dwarf hears a familiar voice address him as he, Falos, and the others reach the outcroppings.
"Hail, Eska," the dwarf says, making sure he doesn't bellow it his greeting and draw attention to where everyone is. As Brax sees Arianna, James and Leosin nearby, his head drops as a bit of sorrow surfaces over his normally brash demeanor. "Raakuze an' I. We charged 'em. I got through 'em somehow, but he didn't. When I looked back, he'd been caught...an ah watched him be murdered by that muscle-'eaded windbag. Th' cultists be so focused on Raakuze's end that I was able ta slip away an bring these folk with me."
The dwarf lifts his head up and his eyes are moist, but they also glint with purpose. "I owe 'at son of a b!%@& an I'm gonna make sure 'e gits his due, but we have ta move quickly 'fore they come lookin' fer us. I'm not gonna let Raakuze's sacrifice be fer nothin'."
Arianna, already shell-shocked, slowly follows Eska, hardly believing what she is seeing. She drops to her knees a few feet from the dwarf and stares disbelieving at him.
"Y-you're alive," she stammers, half asking, half praying.
Prodded into action, Arianna keeps staring at Brax, not able to believe he's really there until well into their flight.
As the dwarf notices Arianna staring at him with a shell-shocked look, Brax's tough demeanor seems to slip away just briefly. He walks to the elf, takes her by her arm and gently pulls her to her feet before giving her a hug and a pat on her shoulder.
"Aye, lass," Brax says. "I'm still 'ere. Me place in Moradin's hall 'll have ta keep a bit."
Arianna begins quietly crying as Brax hugs her and she returns it. She mumbles an apology for leaving him behind over and over again for a moment until they begin to move back towards Greenest.
Falros nervously accepts Eska's welcome, his eyes shifting to the other rescued captives: two human women, one short enough to be a halfling and the other whose left arm is covered in what look like religious tattoos, and a male dwarf with shaggy blonde hair. But once he notices Leosin, his suspicious gaze falls.
"I remember you. Why did they keep you separate from us?" Falros wonders aloud, reaching into the bag of gear wearily. "I suppose I've split wood a few times in my day. I can try to help."
Tears fill the eyes of the woman with the tattooed arm. "I thought I would be digging pits for the cult, or worse, dead. I had prayed to Chauntea to be saved, and moreover, to watch over my children. To give them a peaceful life after all of this. Never did I think my savior would come in the form of a proud dwarf, and on his own, no less," she places her hand on Brax's shoulder, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you."
"Yes, thank you all," Falros agrees. "Come, let's go. My wife must be planning with Greenest's temple, and it would be in such bad taste to show up during my own funeral," he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood. The other prisoners nod, walking ahead, and though they're certainly bruised and tired, they're just as eager to get back to town.
Eska continues leading the group onward. She was a creature of city walls. Outside in the wilds she felt out of place.
"Nay, lass," Brax says in answer to the woman's gratitude. "I didna come alone. Arianna, Eska, and James," he says, motioning toward each of his companions as he names them, "played a part in yer rescue an deserve yer thanks, too. As did Raakuze," he says, mentioning his late friend's name with less gruffness than usual.
"If any of ye kin handle a crossbow," the dwarf says to the former captives, "mine be in th' bag. Ye kin use it 'til we get back to Greenest."
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Eska fiddles with an exotically designed scroll tube. Out of all the gear Arianna brought back with her this seemed unfamiliar and somewhat out of place. She opens it and an expensive parchment slides out...
She gives the scroll a strange look as she silently reads a scroll of pedigree officiated for Raakuzedu’lon’ros.
"interesting..." she comments then stashes it away.
"C-can any of you handle a sword? We have Raakuze's and mine, but I can only wield one at a time," she says as they hand out weapons to those that want and can use them.
"Let me see," Falros grabs Raakuze's sword and practices chopping at the air. "It's a little awkward, but it'll do."
The others look a lot less enthusiastic about arming themselves, and the tattooed woman clumsily holds one of the cultist's scimitars as deadweight, shrugging.
With at least Falros armed, Leosin able to use his bare fists, and the other three prisoners following behind, the party heads back along the rocky path towards the earlier camp. Falros spends the trip casually striking the air with his sword as he walks along, enough that his forearm cramps up every few minutes and he's forced to stop. Leosin continues to limp, but the break at the outcrops had at least allowed him time to splint his ankle a little more properly, and he no longer grimaces as he moves. The night is quiet, and the first three hours of the trip are without incident.
"You asked about what I might know of the cultists," Falros begins. "They're planning something big, that much is for sure. I'm sure they captured us opportunistically, well, other than the monk," he looks at Leosin. "All they had us do was dig pits and pick up s*%+. But every now and then I'd get a glimpse of the cave in the back, where the big dragon man and Frulam would go, and they kept calling it the nursery. It was an open secret that Rezmir intended on hatching a clutch of dragon eggs there, and those caves go deep into the cliffs. They'd also store all of the plunder from every raid in there, far as I heard."
Soon enough, the party finds themselves back at the camp where the kobolds had been eating raw meat.
"Ye words on th' caves be th' same as ones I heard one a 'em leezard luvers spoutin' 'fore we be discuvered an' caught," Brax says. "About th' nursey an' eggs, but th' cultist didna say anythin' bout loot bein' in 'ere, too."
As Brax recognizes where they are, he looks at the others. "We still 'ave th' stuff we found with 'em cultists 'n leetle leezards 'at they took from Greenest, doan we?"
"I... I think so," Raseri answers as she pulls the sack open to see what was left inside.
The sack contains ten pewter candlesticks, a half dozen silver serving dishes, and two religious carvings of Chauntea.
Leosin had largely been silent when he heard about the caves, the dragon eggs, and the loot, as if deeply considering what to do next. He'd stop every now and then on the way back to Greenest to stare up at the stars, long enough that he'd have to hustle to catch up to the rest of the party only to stop again.
All is fine, somehow, as every deity smiles upon you and grant you entirely safe travel back to Greenest. Just as the sun peeks above the horizon, you find yourselves back at the gates in the process of being rebuilt. The guards wave you past, and the town is humming with activity even at this early hour as the locals work to reconstruct their once proud village.
Soon enough, you find yourselves back at Greenest's keep to meet with a less weary Governor Nighthill. The Governor looks absolutely relieved upon seeing you, Leosin, and the other rescued villagers. "By Tymora's t$$%, this could only mean one thing... A resounding success!" Leosin cringes in pain from the sudden pound hug.
Falros and the others thank you once more and leave to check on their families once more, while Leosin sticks around as a small crowd forms to welcome you back.
"Ask them to bring back a monk and they bring back four more of our own. Your courage and daring deserve our utmost praise," the Governor cheers, the crowd applauding your success. As promised, he provides each of you with a reward of 250 gold pieces, and an additional 50 gold pieces each for bringing back the other prisoners.
The reward is fair and even though he knows the governor means well, the monetary sum seems to pale in comparison to Raakuze's life at best. Or be viewed as blood money at worst to Brax.
"In me 'eart, I felt we couldna rescue one whilst leavin' th' others. But freedom comes with cost. Raakuze....he paid all ta make sure we all made it back 'ere. Gods 'elp me, I needa drink."
Taking his share of the reward, Brax leaves to find the closest drinking establishment to both remember his fallen comrade and to simultaneously numb the pain and emptiness of the loss among the group.
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Eska gives Brax a concerned look as he leaves all to familiar with the look of a man gone to drown his sorrows in the closet dive he can find. She says nothing though, leaving him to mourn in his own way and far too tired to try and stop him.
Eska accepts the mayor's gold without enthusiasm. She knew men that would kill for what she was just handed but the victory still felt hollow to her. Hopefully the mayor and monk would come up with a plan to combat an army and dragons.
For now she knew she would need better tools for the job, maybe the reward money could help with that. She thinks on that for a moment while fiddling with her Dragon Fang. It was serviceable but little more than a shiv she considers Arianna's words from before they left....
So, Eska the Fang, I was wondering if i happened to have that dragon's tooth. I might be able to make you something out of it," she says. "I sometimes make my way helping out the local blacksmith. I'm not great, but...
Struck with a moment of inspiration Eska sketches her ideas down on a couple pieces of parchment. She hands one to the mayor "Hey Knightshil, have your craftsmen take a look into this for me."
and the other to Arianna "Twice-Quick...Arianna, you said you work with the smithies from time to time can you look into this after you've got some rest. I could really use your help." she puts emphasis on her last statement to try and reach the traumatized elf.
Eska doesn't wait for the mayor to answer and goes to retired in a room somewhere in the keep. She brings Arianna along too not wanting to leave the elf alone to her nightmares.
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Power nods gratefully at the reward, and mumbles some platitude about the Order of the White Angel is always ready to aid their allies in time of need.
He could say more, but his tongue is restless, and he finds its best to say less at those times.
He's not happy with how little of the enemy he eliminated, and losing a man in the process! He's in a mood to brood, and there's only way to do that properly.
Brax feels a weight settle heavily next him at the rough-hewn bar. James slaps the table twice and points at the dwarf and himself, indicating another round of whatever it is he's drinking.
"My first mission went worse," James breaks in as the foaming mug of ale is placed before him. He jingles coins on the wooden plank, getting this round. "'Twas a whole squad of us to hunt down one murderer. I wasn't even in the Order then, just a bunch of skulls full of mush willing to do for coin what the sheriff had too much sense to do on his own."
He raises the mug and drains a goodly bit of it before continuing. "So, a whole squad full of piss and vinegar, and he's waiting for us. We were openly on the road, thinking we were careful, but what did we know?
The guy next to me goes down, arrow in his gullet, and the two guys beside him rush forward, full of vengeance and feeling full of gruff that they weren't hit. 'He's got one, then let's cut him down and call it even!' one says. We should be so lucky!
They get there an' the guy is in a tree. Like, 20 feet up. Most of us only have sickles, axes, whatever was in our parents' shed. He's got a oak-and-pine bow and a couple quivers. Arrows just start raining down.
Another pair are bleeding out on the grass before we get smart enough to take cover behind other trees.
Then he starts taunting us...."
James takes another long pull, staring far ahead.
Brax shotguns the current drink he's working on and motions for the barkeep to fill his mug with more hard liquor.
"Ye be comrades-in-arms when ye bruthas fall in fightin', it be hard ta shake their deaths from yer dreams. When ye seem them same ones fall an yer leadin' em....ya carry th' screams an death cries to yer grave."
The dwarf turns and looks at James. A fire dances in his eyes that alcohol has yet begun to even douse. "Back there inna camp, I was ready ta lay down me life fer them folk we brought back 'ere. They be th lucky 'ns. Scarred they mebbe, but they 'ave their famlies ta 'elp 'em get past th' memry of what 'appened."
As the mug gets refilled, Brax wastes no time in slamming it back. "We were both 'ere an made th' same choice. Only I'm 'ere an he's not. Ta me, it seemed like 'e had ah greater path ta follow than one that ended on that bastard's belt a' 'eads. 'ad it been me," the melancholy warrior trails off as the shouts and screams of agony echo in canyons of his memories. "An ironic an' perverse act a' mercy."
As he pushes the empty mug away from him, Brax turns and looks James directly in the eye. "How many ah yer group did ye lose ta th' rogue before ya meted out his punishment?"
Arianna shakes herself at Eska's question. She'd been lost in her own thoughts and falling down a self-doubting spiral for most of the long journey back and their time in the town. She nods and tries to speak, but it comes out as a hoarse croak. She swallows hard and tries again.
"I... I can do that, I think," Arianna manages to say.
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Seeing the smoke rising from the distance Met-Anoi'a quickened his pace fearing he was too late. In the back of his mind the glaring eyes from his recurring nightmare seemed to taunt him further drawing closer and closer.
Buying passage on a caravan headed west towards Greenrest had proved to be difficult. He could feel the gaze of every citizen watching him and questioning his every step. He even heard more than one time several people remark about him as if he were mockery: "Look there a tiefling bearing the symbol of Torm! What sort of foolery is this?"
He had forgotten what it was like to be judged and persecuted for his infernal parentage after living among those who based one's merit upon faith and personal actions. Still he was able to finally found a merchant who overlooked his appearance after paying twice the price. Thinking that it would be relative ease now to reach Greenrest he was alarmed when he saw smoke on the horizon.
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Some noble part of Eska imagines herself staying awake; a comforting vigil for Arianna. However, reality would have none of such flights of fancy. The day's events once again pushing Eska past her limits. She wonders briefly after all they've been though if the others will continue the journey or will she wake only to face this crusade alone.
~It seems very likely that Eska will not stir unless heavily encouraged to do so.~
A latent energy awakens within her as she slumbers clutching her Dragon Fang. In her dream she rises from the ash covered hallway of what was once a lively home; now a shadow of its former self. She knows this place, this dream...there are three figures...
Raakuzedu’lon’ros kneels serenely in the shadow of some great dragon. She senses her former companion is waiting. "What do you want from me!?" she shouts soundlessly. This was not how her dream usually goes. A black shape in utter darkness she senses the dragon's awareness shift.
Langdedrosa approaches blood-drunk hefting a massive sword. They do battle in flames, but her efforts are in vain he is everywhere her blades aren't. Taunting, jeering and loud his massive sword descends. She is reduced to nothing, a whisper on the wind.
~She feels like falling~
Hurled towards the ground through an endless layer of dark clouds. It's raining and her home burns beneath her. She roars the call of thunder, a flash of lighting, the rain washes over everything like a flood. Ash-covered the half-dragon looks up. The storm is the last thing he sees. Destruction. There is no home. A-shadow-in-a-lightless-land its attention shifts ~underestimated, respect, pity~
Eska soars overhead.
Rakuze kneels waiting in the shadow of a massive dragon.
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Arianna tries to sleep, but, the hurt is still too fresh. She knows that she should sleep, that she is too tired to think or be of any real use. She tosses and turns for a little while before giving up and sitting up. Her eyes fall on the tooth that Eska had ripped from the maw of a dragon, and feels only shame. Shame that she couldn't help Eska. Shame that she couldn't help Raakuze. Shame for being a coward, an imposter.
Gently, she pulls Dragon Fang from Eska's grasp and then quietly gathers her tools. She was dirty, bloodied, and exhausted, but it hardly matters to her now. She finds the smithy and begins to work as iron heats in the fire. She sketches out a rough design, unconventional since the blade of the dagger is to be the tooth of a dragon. Rough as it is, she feels a little satisfaction. Iron twisting and turning over itself like tongues of interlocking lightning wrap around the tooth and give it a handle that will be far better than the simple on that Eska had rigged in a rush.
The iron is hot and ready. It sings under her hammer.
She remembers tales told by dwarves of their craftsmen. The best would be struck by what they called a fey mood. They'd become obsessed and toiled ceaselessly day and night until their magnum opus was complete. Perhaps she was more akin to them than she had thought. Fear and worry melted away in the heat. Fatigue found no purchase in muscles that moved with a sureness that only an hour or two ago Arianna was far from feeling. She could see it, perfectly. She knew every twist and bend of the iron that was needed to lock the tooth as fast as if she had welded them like two pieces of steel. She knew every blow that was needed and even as she worked, inspiration struck.
Eska's Fang was forged, but it was not complete. Consumed by her task, she rushed and found the leather shop. Furiously she cut and molded the pieces, then sculpted them and stained them before returning to the forge as they dried. The sun was beginning to set, but still she worked. Hunger, pain, sleep, all of those were needless distractions. She had to work. She must work. It is still not complete! The steel fittings cooled as she began to engrave the symbols and glyphs she saw in the blade. Her hands guided the hammer and graver with unfailing precision as she ignored the worried inquiries of the smith and his assistants. She has too much work still and the night is young. She finishes her engraving, leaving the image of a drake taking flight on each side of the blade, and begins to polish and refine the steel hilt. Coiled where the hilt and blade meet are the runes for dragon and storm coiled around one another like dancers amid lightning and thunder. She smiles as she sees her work coming together so nicely.
The drake-tooth dagger finished, Arianna moves onto its sheath. Steel and leather are quickly brought together as the moon rises. There isn't much time now, she can feel. the magic of the moon was growing, and she needs to be ready by then. She pulls the ties from her hair and finds some cool, clear water to wash it in. The dust and the grime melt away and leave Arianna's locks glowing silver in the moonlight. She returns to the bench she had taken over in her zeal and pulls her dagger from her belt and gathers up her hair, long enough to flow to her hips now that it was down, and cuts it brutally short at the back of her head. She divides it into three bundles, two that are woven into the steel of the hilt and braided into a lanyard the length of her forearm. The other is woven around the sheath and down it, capturing three blue dragon's scales that had been found in the keep.
The moon nears its zenith and Arianna mutters the words to a prayer as ancient as the moon itself. A prayer for guidance and clarity. She holds the Fang and its sheath out wide and slowly brings them up and closer together. As she says the last words, she feels something imbue the dagger and its sheath. Perhaps she only thinks it does. The strength leaves her as she feels her knees threatening to buckle. Her entire body quivers and shakes from overexertion. Two days and nights of no sleep hammer her hard as she staggers back to where Eska had been sleeping. Barely able to stand as it is, she doesn't bother changing before she collapses onto the cot that had been set aside for her, her hand clutching the newly forged and silver-glowing Fang. Satisfied, she finally falls asleep, happy to have done even a little to help Eska.
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Eska wakes up angry. First she rolled out of bed...again fated to nurse yet another dull ache and secondly someone stole her fang. She accosts a number of servants sweeping through the keep like a storm; inevitable, unwelcome and best to take shelter from before it arrives at your door. Finally someone points her in the right direction; some tattered grey-haired woman headed down to the smithy. No doubt to sell the priceless item for a loaf of bread.
She bursts into the smithy and sees Arianna toiling by a forge with her fang. "Your hair's not grey. What are you doing here Twice-Quick?" Try as she might the elf don't seem to notice her. Eska takes a look at the sketches and leaves Arianna to her work. "Well if you're not going to, I could sleep for days. Come find me when you're done. Good luck with that and uh...don't sell it for bread." she says again ignored.
Eska feels like she is leaving a part of herself behind but time passes quickly as she is true to her word.
Eska is woken as Arianna collapses gracelessly into the other bed. Eska feels more awake than she's ever been reunited with her Fang. The item had been reforged and masterfully crafted; almost unrecognizable from its humble beginnings. The power of her blood resonates with the dragon talisman and she feels new depths to her magic power. Having lost so much whether the item held any real power or not, Eska recognizes it for what it is. The dragon fang, her Stormfang was her birthright.
"Better not sell it for bread," Arianna jokes, a tired half-smile curling the corners of her mouth. "Took me a while to grow my hair that long."
Not even a moment later, she's fallen back asleep.
The days after returning from the camp are busy yet restful for the party, with new weapons being crafted and perhaps a tribute paid to the fallen, brave warrior Raakuzedu’lon’ros. Leosin himself stays with Eadyan Falconmoon and the priests of Chauntea, who nurse his broken, bruised body back to full health.
Governor Nighthill, Dwarven guard Escobert, and Leosin meet you in keep courtyard three days after your return.
"Well, now that I'm healthy once more, I intend to travel to Elturel," Leosin begins. "Ontharr Frume, paladin of Torm, must hear of the Cult of the Dragon's recent surge in activity. He shares my concern. But before I leave..."
Nighthill is about to speak when a elven guard approaches. With her is a striking tiefling with large horns and indigo hair. "Here they are," she says to him, turning to you. "This man was looking for you. He, too, helped us after the raid, aiding many of our wounded."
Striding into the courtyard the tiefling approaches you respectfully thanking his escort who marches back to her assigned duties.
Placing his left fist upon his breastplate and holding his right hand upright with his palm forward he salutes you. When he speaks his voice is calm and draws you in. "It is an honour to meet the Heroes of Greenrest. I am Met-Anoi-a. Humbled servant of Torm, the Hand of Righteousness, one of his Loyal Furies."
"The people of Greenrest sing about how you saved them from ruin. Such bravery has caught the eye of Torm and for reasons that only the True Deity can answer, I have been led here."
"Throughout my childhood I have received messages in the forms of waking dreams. I had thought I had out grown these but they have returned. Now it seems every five nights my dream shows me a world destroyed. Wherever I look corpses stretch in every direction. Some appear to be frozen their skin gleaming turned to ice. Some are nothing but smouldering embers. Others lie there as their bodies liquefy into pools of green puddles. Red skies erupt unleashing flashes of forked lightning while finally a wind blows a green cloud across the land scorching the land wherever it touches."
"Each time, the dream ends with ten evil eyes glaring at me from the edge of darkness."
"Tell me does any of this make sense to you?"
Eska shifts uncomfortably unaccustomed to such formal introductions. First the Jester now this tiefling, Three-Dog warned her of their kind ~There's nothing more dangerous than a man of inflated purpose. A thing best avoided~
However something about his words draw her in. As he recounts his dream she remembers her own a lightless land, a world of shadows and ash, fire and lightning.
"Well, it's not too far adrift. We'll take all the Hands we can get. So welcome to the Crew I suppose."
She looks between the mayor and James "But I swear to all the Dead Gods that if I'm told again one man is all I need to fight a dragon and his pet army I'm going to hurt someone quite severely." she says bitterly and without humour.
"Even with an ah...additional member we're no more than a thorn to this dragon cult. You've had days Nighthill, have you come up a plan?" she looks around to those assembled for an answer.
Arianna spends most of the next day sleeping and wakes up ravenous as the sun was setting. Of course, she's still feeling the fatigue and after eating her fill, she falls back asleep. The next she spends fixing up her hair and clothing, she feels odd without her long braid, and try as she might, she can't shake the feeling of nakedness every time a breeze blows across the nape of her now bare neck. Her hair only came down to her jaw now and is even shorter than it had been after she had been found by the villagers of Redrock.
Now, she sits and listens to the stranger's tale and wonders what she has gotten mixed up in, or if she'd been mixed up in it before.
"Maybe we should find out what they've learned first," Arianna says as she looks to Met-anoi'a, "frightful dreams seem to be common of late. but it sounds as if you are dreaming of dragons."
Brax spends a couple of days trying to drink the pain away of past events both long ago and recent as he talked to James of strings unraveled in life in general. The remaining days are spent trying to get healthy and back into fighting shape (as well as getting rid of a hangover where he'd awoken in his room and saw beetles with flat murderous eyes staring right through him). Now the group (without Raakuze and Orion) were assembled together once again to meet with Governor Nighthill.
"Oy! Leosin!" Brax calls out to the monk when he hears the name of Ontharr Frume. "A moment if ye will!"
The dwarf stomps over to the monk. "If ye be seekin' Ontharr out, tell 'im that mean an nasty bastard he sent ta Greenest is still alive 'an that he kin verify th activity of druguns an their bootlickers in th' area."
As quick as he can, the dwarf summarizes everything that he's witnessed since seeing the cloud of smoke rising from the town as he arrived to the party's escape from the cultists camp and subsequent return to safety.
"Not been much a one ta dream or be supastichus, Metannoya. Not ta say I 'aven't 'ad bad dreams but not about what ye've seen in yours. Yer god might be tryin ta tell ya somethin' with 'em."
Listening to the story Met-Anoi'a does not interrupt until you have all fully recounted the story. As his tail slowly sways back and forth he nods, "Thank you for sharing your experiences. Perhaps the vision does speak of the danger that might destroy the land and that is why the True Deity has brought me here, but some of you have already said it if not thought it. How are we to stop the cult and their horde?" he turns to face Governor Nighthill hoping he might be better prepared to aid in answering this.
"Yes, well, welcome," Nighthill frowns judgmentally at Met-Anoi'a. "It appears you aren't the only new face here, either. What of the archer? Another Cult-caused death? Smoke and ashes..." He grumbles with a glance at James Power.
"Anyway, I'll be sure to deliver your, er, message to Ontharr," Leosin nods at Brax before turning to the party. "I've been thinking of what to do next. After all you’ve done already for me personally and for the people of Greenest, I hate to ask anything more from you. But the need is great, and I dare to hope that you can aid me one time more."
He sighs, and there's a pregnant pause, as if he's about to ask something ridiculous.
"I need you to return to the cultists’ camp. You know your way around it now. If the cultists are preparing to conduct another raid, or a large body of them marches away, or if anything substantial is carried into or out of that cave, I need to know. It's the cave system that I truly believe will hold the answers. If you have a chance to get into the camp and look around again, that would be the ideal way to spot anything that's changed."
Nighthill nods in agreement. "It's unfortunate there was no time to get a better look inside the caves, and see what the bastards might be up to."
"Ah, as for the matter of compensation," the monk continues, "I will offer you one hundred and fifty gold pieces each."
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At the mention of a reward Met-Anoi'a shakes his head, "Look at the state of this town." he waves his hand at the ruin that can be seen in every direction, "The people are more in need of that coin than I. Keep whatever is to be owed to me and help to buy supplies or more guards. Given what has been said about this camp going back there will likely cause some retaliation if we are discovered."
The dwarf's long face looks even longer at Leosin's request. "Ye 'ant us ta go back inta 'at snake's den? We lost a good man last time we's there! Iffen them cultists are still there, we be needin' a small force ta deal with 'em! Sneakin' in didna do us any good last time an they know who we be!"
"Can we na send fer any aid?" Brax asks, despite a gnawing feeling in his gut that he knows what the short answer will be. "I wanna see 'em snake suckers pay as much as ye do, one of 'em in particular. This?" he says, looking at his companions, "Jist us? It's a suicide gambit."
"Are there any other towns nearby that you are in contact with. If they are trying to acquire all this treasure they must find another town to strike at. Unless they were able to find a dragon's ransom within Greenrest?"