Shasta had traveled enough to know that different did not mean bad or evil. Dragons had dominated the known world enough that likely more than a few mixed races were spawned. She called out, "You, with the horns, we need capable fighters and spellcasters to rescue an innocent citizen of this community. Will you help?"
Jogging closer the small figure could only partially make out the words being exchanged. She heard "capable fighters, rescue" but it was enough to get the gist of things. Sometimes Dhizzi hated being one of the smaller races, but soon she would get there. Maybe that is what the wave earlier was about.
Only a few steps leads the party beneath the shadow of the Teeth of Khurgorbaeyag, the great portcullis at the entrance of the Town of Sikrystal.
The far side of the gates opens onto an elevated level one floor above the town streets, and a long drawbridge leads down to ground level.
From this vantage, the church of Tamara is clearly visible -- a large, gothic structure with two great spires that casts a long shadow upon all the buildings near the entrance gate.
Shasta says, "Come inside and we can explain."
Given the chance, Shasta gives a quick account of the call to rescue the miller's daughter, the first group to attempt the rescue, the loss of a couple of the first group requiring a return to recruit more.
At the orc's question Luvidial butts in, holding out a hand to shake. "Luvidial Highshield, just your run of the mill friendly wanderer. I know a thing or two about crossing blades, and I've been told I'm quite the tactician. It's my utmost pleasure to meet you Bajragan."
"I'm Lucky. That's also what I'm sometimes called. My Cyprati name is Shasta Lux. I'm a traveling minstrel who sometimes moonlights with adventurers in situations like this."
At the orc's question Luvidial butts in, holding out a hand to shake. "Luvidial Highshield, just your run of the mill friendly wanderer. I know a thing or two about crossing blades, and I've been told I'm quite the tactician. It's my utmost pleasure to meet you Bajragan."Baj gives a gruff nod and shakes the offered hand.
"So we are three, or do you have others you have recruited for this rescue mission?"
Lucky looks around for the Kobold that came into the city with the group. "There was what appeared to be a kobold cleric or mystic who was tagging along."
The night passes uneventfully in the much-appreciated respite of the hospitality provided by the House of Lights. The erstwhile travelers drift to sleep, lulled by the soft tones of the chanting of the anchorites of the goddess Tamara, Queen of Light, the Dawn, and Beauty. They awake well-rested, the light of the new morning beaming in through the stained-glass windows of their individual guest cells.
Baj approaches a priestess with questions.
"Excuse me sister, but you serve in the name of a draconic Goddess,do you not? Where I'm from, the dragons are little better than tyrants. Could you tell me why is your lady different?"
Sister Talashara nods, "Many of the dragon lords of the present age are indeed as you say, but not all -- there remain a minority of the members of the metallic and gem dragons, and those among the god dragons, who are more kindly disposed to the mortal races."
Shasta comments, "Our people, the Cyprati, were treated very well by the copper dragons of the past. So, I guess dragons are like us commoners. Some are good, some bad. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some sleep. Let's meet back here at first light, ready to get back into the bush to look for the miller's daughter." She heads off to her wagon.
She glances up at the sky, wonder what the weather will be like in the morning.
...
The priestess smiles beneficently,
"My divine patron would not object."
...The priestess smiles beneficently,
"My divine patron would not object."
Baj nods, running a heavy hand along his horned brow as he asks his more pressing question.
"There was something else, more personal that I've been seeking to understand. What do you know of draconic blood mixing with mortals? Not such things as kobolds and their ilk, being a mortal kind of draconic race, but something more individual?"
The wide, finned tail sweeps at his side, as if to accentuate his meaning about mixed heritages.
"It is known that such couplings have transpired throughout the countless ages in which dragon and mortal have lived beside one another -- you would have to shape your question more sharply for me to offer you any useful information on the subject."
The scholar hesitates, apprehension clear on his face, but he sighs, steels his nerve, and presses on with his inquiry.
"What if that bloodline also carried the mark of the divine?"
\
"It is also true that many of the divine wyrms have mingled their blood with that of mortals -- it is said that the Gilded City of Cylabil is torn asunder by the machinations of the goddess Astabilor's many progeny."
Shasta strolls toward her wagon, stopping to get a bite to eat at any open bar or tavern serving food. If there is a crowd that lacks entertainment, she'll get out her fiddle and do a little busking if the owner allows it.
Profitable ability gives double the bonus from the expertise die.
Result = 15 + 3 + 4 = 22
She pockets whatever coins she earns and retires in her wagon.
Luvidial wastes no time in getting straight to bed. After all, the earlier he goes to sleep the earlier he wakes, and everybody knows that the early bird gets the worm. As he lays there waiting for sleep to take him, Luvidial's thoughts turn to the upcoming mission. He starts strategizing with what little he knows, and the Aasimar drifts off with his dreams filled with half finished plans.
...
Shasta needs only a few steps to reach the portico of the Temple of Tamara. The frame of the temple is elaborately decorated with interlaced dragons cut with such skill from pale marble that they almost appear to move. The marble must have been quarried from some distant land to the south of the deep inner sea off the coast of the Emerald Scale Forest known as the Shinning Deep. There is no native source of marble in the area.
Once she has left the temple, Shasta speedily finds herself before the popular establishment known as the Inn of the Molten Doves. The name of the lodging house and tavern is taken from a strange monument that stands in the middle of the common area. It consists a magical image of two doves made of molten metal or lava that appear to fly around each other. The air around the image appears to simmer with intense heat, but in fact the temperature is unaffected. It is believed that the strange center piece represents two angelic daughters of the phoenix goddess that was widely worshipped by the humans of the Warlands in the previous age, before the rise of the dragon gods. It may have been take from an old temple that stood in the elven port city that preceded the present shape of the town, and was used by the minority human population. In any event, it is a reminder of the age and strangeness of these lands.
Shasta's performance is gratefully accepted by the patrons of the Inn of the Molten Doves. Given the present day isolation of the town, the residents are grateful for whatever entertainment is available. Shasta finds herself the recipient of several free beverages and the admiring regard of her audience.
"Is that how it went with all of them? Fated to bring ruin to their mortal brethren?"
"It depends upon the nature of the divine progenitor, as well as the offspring, I suppose."
Shasta sleeps better for having had a chance to express some of the emotions she felt this day in musical form. She sleeps soundly and rises as early as she can to meditate on the day to come, choosing her spells and packing her gear.
"Is there a way to determine one's progenitor to better prepare against such risks?"
"There are many wise souls throughout these lands that might be able to assist you in this query, but none in the sodality of our small chapter is able to assist you. I would seek out one of the Grand Mandarins of Cylabril or a sage of a similar caliber."
Bajragan leaves the priestess and returns to his room at the inn to get some quiet and meditate over the answers he was given.
As promised, Kat returns to the gate before it opens, stocked with some provisions and her weapons, ready to return to the forest to hunt for goblins.
She plays her fiddle while waiting for the others.
"A little of both, I suppose. I play music for the greater good, but I gladly accept coins in my busker's cup." She scans the path to the gate, looking for the other two who promised to help.
"We can discuss this on the way. Where are Luvidial and Dhizzi? We're burning daylight!"