Pegulis, Chapter 2

[lynzy]

Shardis was enjoying the grasslands, anything was better than that %$#@ing swamp. Her fur, which had finally grown back, was much happier here. It had grown in a gray color, instead of white with gray spots it was now gray with black spots and surprisingly not as thick! There was some shedding involved but not as much as would have been since the pine needle golem had removed her white coat forcefully at the Tower.

​

The Tower, that place seemed like a nightmare now. This place was more like a weird dream, the land was all flat and covered with tall grasses! You could run and run in any direction and never get to the end of it! She had never seen the like before, the game here was exquisite too. All that grass must be good for pray animals, she licked her lips again as she remembered the taste of the first hair she had caught. Shar had brought back a brace of hares, several creatures that resembled small squirrels and some animal that kept popping up out of a hole in the ground but was much bigger than the hares.

She had seen some giant birds that ran instead of flying but they were too far away to bother with, perhaps later she would try them if they were still about. Yes, the grass must be magic to produce such large creatures and so many different kinds. And then she saw them, small but very very fast! They looked almost like deer but had different coloring and they hopped more than ran, very odd...

Medwick did more sneezing than anything else and she was beginning to worry about his health. Humans were very frail, she had found over her lifetime. They caught colds and actually could die from them. Their wounds tended to fester easier too. Thankfully, Galain had no wounds at this time but being so far away from civilization added more stress.

Her ears flicked back and forth setting her ear baubles to jingling a light tune on the breeze. That strange feeling was still there, it had never left. The bugs still crawled on her skin and she did her best not to get use to it. It was just when she was hunting that it went to the back of her mind for a bit while she concentrated on the stalking.

The ears went flat to stop the noise they made just as a little deer, she decided to call it, came walking by her position. The breeze was blowing to her so that was good, it hadn't noticed her yet and was walking right into her range! As was custom for her she had left her back pack with the others and their horses, it made hunting less cumbersome. Shardis sank into the grass so that all that was visible was the top of her head as she peered at the little deer she moved forward ever so slowly, doing her best not to make any noises.

​

At just the right moment she leaped out of the cover and gave chase to the bouncy thing. It turned right and left in quick attempts to loose its pursuer but all to no avail as Shar turned with the animal thanks in part to that long tail she had and used as a rudder to keep her balance. Shardis tripped it with a swipe of her massive paw-hand and it went tumbling forward. In a flash she was on it and sank her fangs into its neck, pinching off its breath.

After the little deer had stopped squirming and the light had gone from its eyes, Shar stood up and brought the deer back with a large smile of triumph on her face. There was nothing more thrilling than the hunt to her. Her parents would have recoiled in disgust, being more civilized and all. Perhaps that was why they didn't really understand her, she would never know for sure she decided and the spring went out of her step.

 

[Ai]

Vrein Bealithar - The Alcoves of Fissura Pass, #285bd2

Buried within snow, Vrein was one of the few that remained of the convoy. A sense of unease rose through him, as his dark eyes settled briefly upon his valiant comrades that had fallen to the snow. His aux, Ion stood behind him "The circle of life and death continues," it sought to comfort, Vrein did not reply.

Knelt down next to one of the few friends he had, he put the woman's sword in her cold dead hand and wrapped her frozen body in her cloak as he lent down pressing his lips softly against her forehead. "Rest well," he whispered down toward her. For just a moment longer, he allowed his thoughts rest upon the time they shared together laughing, eating, brawling and fondly recalling the vain attempt the woman had made to try to teach Vrein to fight like a militia man. The woman had tried her hardest, but like that was ever going to happen… This is goodbye.

Rising from the clutches of the loss of the fallen Vrein turned away, determined to not look back. Echoes of 'Lady Ilsa's' voice reverberated across the walls, like music to his ears when she called toward the rest of the convoy. Seven hells! Now he had to go to the front line with the rest of the idiots who decided they were cut out to be at the end of another guy's sword. Irritated by the thought, a cold expression entered Vrein's features; while his eyes traced along the magnificent walls of ice that blocked their path.

Calmly walking near to where Ilsa stood, for the first time in the duration that he had been on this adventure, Vrein openly revealed his face. Standing slightly to the left of her, Vrein made sure not to make himself a part of Ilsa's company, but lingered close enough to hear what the others were saying. The figure with what Vrein assumed to be a painted grin appeared nice enough, but Vrein remained uneasy about the man, dulled by the skepticism he held for the ghoul sage and its story. On the other hand if what the ghoul was saying was true, ancient magic was something he really didn't want to have to deal with. The thought agitated him further Like we don't have enough problems! he'd worked with magical minerals before, but Vrein wasn't any good with the kind of magic they were talking about nor particularly fond of it.

 

[unanun]

A long time ago, teal

"What is magic?"

Arktus pressed a spell circle engraved on the table in front of him. The arcane scribblings lit up, and dancing motes of light shimmered into the air, resolving into butterflies.

"All we know," as the things danced around the top of the circle, "is that we are able to manipulate many things with the correct words and feelings. We have vast knowledge of incantation-effect relationships, but an even deeper unknown exists beyond that."

"What are we manipulating?"

The Calm Sage gave the child a fond smile and patted the top of the child's head. He waited for her to continue.

"Spirits .. matter .. the ether!"

"Do any of those exist?"

"Of course."

"If I made an instrument that could tell me if a spirit existed, would it say yes or no? Or is it just your own perception that says it must be so?"

". . ."

"If I cut an apple in two, what do I get?"

The answer was obvious.

"How about four? Eight? Sixteen? When does the apple stop becoming an apple? If I divide an apple into enough pieces, what does it become? What is the limit of your sense - can you even trust your senses? What role do your senses play in the shaping of the world?"

He tapped the spell circle again, the butterflies disappearing.

"Think about it." He placed an apple into the girl's hands, a rare luxury in Barvelle, and stood up to leave for a meeting.

"... And that concludes my thoughts on the matter." Arktus stood up to the general din of the Assembly, flanked on either side by the other two of the Inner Council. Despite the urgency of the matters at hand, the General Assembly at Barvelle was known for reasoned, if at least restrained, discourse. Several members shuffled from their seats in the hall, anxious to meet him to further discuss the current problem.

In the Archon's absence, he had taken up a few administrative duties, but her awakening had shifted the responsibilities back to her. What he had largely been concerned about was the lack of news from Tavark and Aldus. As the Assembly had concluded, it was reasonable to expect a delay of information from Tavark. But the lack of news from Aldus was disturbing. Calls for a scouting party to be sent out were largely halted by Arktus, who although had no formal authority in the matter, was able to weigh in enough to stifle the voting. There was simply too much conflicting information to proceed brashly.

News reached them that the Archon was awake. But Arktus continued with his duty, for it was his duty.

 

[Diana]

BARVELLE: THE ARCHON'S CHAMBERS, royalblue

"The world turns on, regardless of whether or not I am in it." she responded to the older man when he entered. For a brief moment she looked briefly perturbed at her coma being mention, but it was gone and replaced by a stony frown. Eirene threw her blankets back and slipped her legs over the edge of her bed to stand. One of the scurriers (as she liked to call them, for they were endlessly at her feet) stepped forward to protest.

"My lady, you shouldn't b-"

"Do not keep fussing over me, please. I am fine." The white wolf at the foot of her bed whimpered a bit as Eirene stood. She swayed a bit, but righted herself and strolled stiffly over to a chair where a silvery dress waited. Having Coul there witnessing her in her underthings didn't concern her, she was sure he had seen plenty of half dressed women before and he was old enough to be her father.

Her hands smoothed over the fabric as she turned to the older man, her scurrier was frowning in the background. "I'm glad you are the first here. Things in Pegulis have become... interesting."

Eirene relayed the news quickly. About the dead dragon, Medwick's discovery. The letter, the storm, and incident with the stolen dragon eggs. No detail was left out and her opinion on the matter was made clear. Something was amiss in Pegulis, and though she couldn't connect the relation between events, she was certain they linked somehow. She felt it.

"I know that you have been retired for some time, and I wish it were other circumstances. But I need someone I can trust, someone with experience. Barvelle has become a peaceful city full of scholars and sorcerers. Amazing intelligent people, but they are not warriors. We need to organize protection for the city, but I also need-"

"Lady Archon! I'm glad to see your in good health." Siris entered the room without ceremony, drawing a brief smile from Eirene and making her scurrier in the background scowl even more. Like Coul, the man was once someone who had been a great help to her when most of Pegulis was wild. Sometimes she suspected Coul and Siris had a difficult time with each other, however.

"...just in time." She gestured at Siris, not quite meeting Coul's gaze. He wasn't going to be pleased about this. "I need you and Siris to organize a tail on Medwick and his traveling party. Yes, I realize I have been warned twice by a mysterious enemy and that it is dangerous to push the subject. That makes it all the more important. I must have the truth and I will not be cowed by phantoms and threats."

The elder woman that had been so visually showing her displeasure since the moment Eirene climbed out of bed was now clearing her throat quite loudly trying to get everyone's attention. "We of The Tower expected this of you and have made arrangements for your safety, my lady. Since you will not consider your health or the dangers, it is our responsibility to-"

"What have you done?" Eirene interrupted impatiently. If they were going to try and lock her in a room, or some other madness, they were going to find Eirene with a lot more fight in here than they were expecting. She would not be useless in a bed while everyone handled her responsibilities for her.

The woman puffed up with a haughty expression, this may have been the Northern Archon, but she was an elder. "We have sent for a bodyguard. He is a reputed swordsman and will be at your side day and night. There will be no repeats of this incident."

A guardian. A glorified babysitter. Eirene bit back several unpleasant comments, her hand raising to rub her temples. That was... she would deal with that later. "...as I was saying, I will need at least one of you to remain in Barvelle to organize our defense network and see what can be done about the rest of Pegulis. But I will have someone to follow Medwick and if you refuse I will do it myself."

 

[Wolfsin]

Barvelle- At an Inn~

"So I stood there eyeing down the beast, its snarling maw, and glowing red eyes would have struck fear into the mightiest of me, but I did not flinch. it was a face off, a duel of wills, and a test to see who would make the first move."

The swish of a mug and the soft coo of one of the women in the mans lap, then Wolfsin let out a large roar.

"Rawwwww, the beast suddenly charged me and i only had time enough to grab the nearest branch and lodge it between the damn things viscous maw." he was theatrical in the way he acted out the scene to them and incited more and more playful giggles. "it bit right through the damn stick I tell ya. I was forced to dodge to the side and find me another weapon. Of course had the thing been a little more careful in where it left the corpses of fallen heroes, I might have been in real danger." he laughed hardily and slammed his mug upon the counter, by now there was no denying just how inebriated he had become. "I found a dagger, a well crafted dagger that looked like it could have been used to skin a thousand or more great elk. it would be the perfect instrument to take on the monster before me."

Another loud burst of giggling and a man offside of the group shouted out "Aye wont you shut up already with ye damn fairytale?" Wolfsin just ignored him and continued the story however. "I rushed to the side, as i seen the damned thing charging in at me, it was bounding to leap and rip me to shreds, but that was all I needed." the girls gestured confused by this comment, and Wolfsin held their attention with a mischievous grin. "I waited for the damned thing to pounce at me and ducked under its belly before I dug my dagger right down the middle, and cut it wide open. of course I recieved and unnecessary bath by doing so, but it was well worth it to be sitting here with you ladies." That was all he had to say and they were on him and giggling even louder than before.

The weary man that had addressed him before thought himself to be smart now and got up from his seat. he was slowly moving inward, with his spoon, making ready to attack the young white Silver haired hero. Right before he made his move however he announced his coming with a snide remark. "Damn shame to have beaten such a creature and then get taken out by me!" A flash of a smirk played on Wolfsin's face before he sidestepped and kicked his chair back hard enough to trip up the man mid lung and fling him face first into one of the women's bosom. A shriek and a few smacks to the face later and the man left feeling ten times as stupid as he had started. "Now ladies since the rude man is out of our hair, how would you like to hear of me adventure within the Crags of the north where I faced a snow troll?"

Of course they were more than excited, they were paid to be excited.

 

[Navras]

Aldus - Azareth Searching

Curiosity shops are a completely underrated source of treasures and information. A wise man would see the unlikelihood of anything of relevance being found in the shop and turn his nose to another to suit his needs. A foolish man would discredit the shop for having any sort of worth, especially in Pegulis of all places, the nation of Common Sense! A smart man would keep it among his list of resources, but it wouldn't be the first place that he went to. Azareth was not a wise man, a foolish man, or a smart man. Some would hardly call him a man at all, but that is for another time. The reason that Azareth came to A Way's Away first, and had not left it for three days now, was because it was an out of the way shop with rare and potentially valuable or worthless articles inside. It was possibly the most unlikely source for finding what he was looking for in all f Aldus, and yet it had the potential to have exactly what he was looking for. Best to get it out of the way first, and save the more likely sources for later.

A Way's Away was a special sort of oddity shop too. Normally, these sorts of shops would cater to the superstitious, the unsure and the collectors of the world - those who were either looking for the next big interest for themselves or were so unsure about their own lives that they were willing to look to extreme places for reassurance. A nation so devote to the mind and the idea that your fate was in your own hands would seem to have little need for shops like these, and yet here in its largest city this shop was prosperous. Why? The simple and brilliant answer was that even the intellectual mind knows that sometimes you need to look at things from a different point of view to find the answers you sought. Sometimes, event he most unlikely source can be of great help if you know how to utilize it. A Way's Away had customers of all kinds and for all different reasons. Some were scholars, some were children, others were looking for directions.

Azareth, was simply looking. Anything that caught his eye, he took, and this shop had many things to catch the eye. Scrolls containing strange works of art, dolls that could supposedly hurt others by sticking pins in them, shrunken heads and monkey paws from the pets of queens long since passed. The legitimacy of these items could be just as verified as the reasoning for the wind blowing, and yet there held a certain sort of charm to the place. What held the traveling scholar's gaze today was a book in an ancient language that he did not know. There was no translation for it, and yet there was something about this book in particular... Though he could not understand it, he felt a strange sort of... longing to own the book. There was no way to place just what it was he was feeling, but something about it felt right. Perhaps it was just a whimsical fancy of his, or perhaps he was just getting to the end of his rope with this shop and needed an excuse to purchase something. What he was looking for was here in Aldus, he just didn't know where it was in Aldus. For all he knew, this untranslated book held all of the secrets he wanted...

Holding the book up over his head, the masked man turned to the little wrinkled shop owner and asked in a cheerful voice, "Hey, what do you know about this book?" The old woman looked up from her polishing cloth and looked at Azareth. He had been in the shop for over an hour now, and the outside world had grown more and more busy in the meantime. On his days there, he rarely spoke outside of his initial greetings to her. For the past three days he had come to A Way's Away, stood around for hours and hours on end looking at this thing and that until he finally made a choice on something and left, close to night fall by then. For him to make an inquiry over something was out of character, and it caught the old woman by surprise. Letting the rag drop in her lap, the shop owner lifter up her hand in a come hither gesture, saying, "Bring it over here and let me see."

Turning on the spot and bringing the book down in front of his chest with a clothed hand, Azareth walked across the shop over to the old woman and held the book down for her to grab. She took it from his hand and his hand returned under his cloak, his three unblinking eyes looking down at the old woman as she turned and fussed over the book in her gnarled hands. Being this close tot he man made her uncomfortable, but she wasn't going to be rude and say anything about it. The customer was always right after all, and she had no place telling him off for something she wasn't even sure she was feeling correctly.

It took the shop keeper but a few moments to go over the book before she knew what it was. Setting it down in her lap, she ran an old tired hand through her hair and saying, "This is an ancient book from a time long gone. I can't tell you what it says or what it's about, for the language has long since died off. I can, however, tell you roughly how old it is..." Curious, Azareth stared on in silence, waiting for her to continue. When she got no verbal answer from him, the old woman looked up at Azareth with her one good eye and continued. "It's well over three hundred years old, it comes from a time since before the Cataclysm young man."

Oh, now that was interesting indeed... That strange and mysterious war, the Cataclysm, death of the Gods and recreation of the new world. Scars of their conflict still dotted the land here and there, and this was supposedly a relic from beyond those days. To say it was tempting was and understatement. "I'll take it!" Azareth proclaimed, asking, "How much do you want for it?"

With a wily chuckle,t he old woman shook her head and patted the book, saying, "Oh goodness, you don't have enough money to buy this from me! Judging from what you've been able to afford before, this is out of your price range I'm afraid."

There was a moment of silence in A Way's Away. It was crushing for some reason, overbearing and all at once magnificent in its absolution. It seemed that for a fraction of time, all else was silent as if the world itself had paused to take a breath. The old woman's eyes widened as she looked up at Azareth, seeing the man's head convulse and twitch violently, a sudden blur of violent emotion given physical form. It seemed that he was screaming, and yet no sound came from him. At the same time her head was filled with ringing as if her ears had been assaulting by some horrible wail that had come to an end all too soon and yet long ago. Her eyes told her one thing, her ears another. She was confused at these paradoxical feelings and all together ready to scream in fear!

The moment passed, and the wind blew, rattling the door to A Way's Away and making its shop keeper blink. Azareth stood still before her, as unmoving as he always was. His shoulders sagged and an audible sigh escaped his masked lips. "Oh, I see..." he said, quite verbally disappointed at the news. he turned and began to walk towards the door, one foot after another and then his staff. The old woman watched him walking away, her heart racing and her ears still ringing. What had happened just then? What magic was that? Or perhaps a trick of her mind? Was it him? Was it him? So many questions, so many emotions. Confusion reigned over it all, and her figners clutched at the book in her lap protectively. Azareth opened the door and took a step outside, turning half way and looking back at her with those black outlines of eyes. "I'll be back in a few days with more money, just you wait and see!" he said optimistically, his voice filled with cheer again. He stepped out of her shop and onto the street, leaving the shop keeper to her own fears and thoughts, wondering what she should do and what had just occurred.

Out on the street, Azareth pulled out his make shift leather wallet and pulled the string off, letting him look inside. He didn't have many gems left, he needed more. Not just for the book, but for his stay at the Rusty Tankard as well. He'd paid for three days stay and a single meal to far on top of buying what he felt he needed from A Way's Away, and that was only one shop and a tavern. He would need more money if he was to continue his current existence in Aldus. Tying his leather wallet back up, Azareth tucked it away inside of his cloak and made his way towards the center of the city. He was in need of employment, and he was arguably in the best city in all of the world to get it. A Scholar may not have been in very high demand in these lands, but no doubt they were always welcome. After all, who couldn't benefit from a bit more knowledge?

 

[Peregrine]

ETHELWEN-BARVELLE, royalblue

Ethelwen's fur was still slightly damp when he finally made it to the Archon's quarters, and his whole appearance came across as just a touch ruffled. He wasn't about to tell anyone, or complain, but almost every set of guards he had passed on the way up had decided it was an ideal moment to stop and question him. Most had been content to let him go when he told them that the Archon had sent for him, but some had not been so accommodation. He was not Coul or Siris, a familiar face known and respected. No, he was Ethelwen, a nobody, and that meant the guards did not trust him. A couple enthusiastic guards had even searched him, although much of their enthusiasm vanished when they realized that his cloak was actually his Aux, and would have no hidden pockets. Ethelwen did his best not to begrudge the delay; it was better that he be stopped than someone unwanted make it all the way up to the Archon's chambers. All the same, he knew he was late, and he wished there was something he could do to change that fact. But he was glad to be clean. A quick but brutal scouring had ensured that all but the faintest traces of loam had been washed from his body.

He climbed his way up to the Archon's chamber, torn between a desperate desire to hurry, and the fear that he had already lost his opportunity. But that Archon had sent for him, as he had been forced to continually remind the guards. He kept that thought firmly in mind as his heart beat loudly, matching the hurried rhythm of his feet.

When he reached the closed door to her room he hesitated once more. He forced himself to stop, and think. Was there anything he would rather be doing, was there any place he would rather be, than at the Archon's side? That answer was easy. No. There was no place in the world he would rather be.

Then it was time to stop being a cowering little fool. He had to be confident, but not brash. Reliable but not under foot. Caring, but not pushy. He would do his best. His Aux shortened and smoothed out, laying cleanly over his shoulder like the cowls of some of the sages. And then he allowed himself one last deep breath, before he knocked firmly but politely on the door.

There were two other people in the room already, and it was clear that the Archon had already begun speaking. "I'm sorry I'm late." Yes, that was good. Apologies were meaningful, if they were heartfelt. Ethelwen wouldn't have skipped the delays if he could go back in time, but he truly was sorry if he was late. But no excuses. Just an apology. He nodded politely to Siris, who he had met briefly after the Archon had fallen unconscious, and then mirroed the motion towards Coul.

 

[Wolfsin]

Barvelle- To the Archons Chambers from an Inn

"So I am to guard this Lady, until otherwise stated?"

"That is correct sir."

"mhmm mhmm, and my added benefits? What will my salary and living situations be?"

"Well that is not fo.."

"Pish posh pish posh, I'm in."

"Very good sir now if yo"

"here carry this would ya?"

Wolfsin didn't take long to pack things, nor to say goodbye to his new friends from the tavern, it was a life he had gotten at least somewhat accustomed to in the past month since his last job. Now he was walking through the city of Barvelle towards what looked to be a nicely built home. "So might i know miladies name that I am to protect?" the guardians escorting him were statuesque, and not responsive in the least. it wasn't a big deal honestly, soon enough he would be meeting her anyways, unless he was forced to deal with some protocol bullarky. it would be a simple task of turning the opposite direction then and leaving, after all the ladies of the tavern would welcome him back with open arms and that would at least buy him a few days before he was forced to neck the horrid winter and cold of the night.

The sound around him changed a bit as the beautifully crafted doors behind him shut tight. it was enough to bring him back to the world and escape his own thoughts to see where he had ended up. To his great pleasure it wasn't a narrow hall with cells as he had almost slightly expected, a bit of optimism never paid off so he did the opposite in most cases. "Nice place" he stated calmly but received no answer as the escorts continued to do just that, and lead him down a long hallway. Eventually there was a door and what sounded like quite the protest to occur on the other side. "hmm wonder how she feels about this." it was the first time he had thought about it, but it was late for that, he would find out very soon he expected.

The doors opened and the guards stopped right outside as they ushered Wolf in to the room. Then the doors shut behind him and Wolfsin was standing in the middle of a room with a small congregation of people he didn't know. Most of them appeared high born types, but he was used to playing the games of nobles and diplomats, they sometimes made the most intriguing opponents. Silence to greet his presence Wolfsin cleared his throat and stepped forward to lay himself before the 'council"

"Ahem, Good evening it is, I and Sir Wolfsin Silvermoon, he of many titles and none more befitting than his own name. i understand I am to be of service to one of you, yet I know not who. Might the person i am to serve grace me their pressence so i may bow my head to the only one that deserve it of me?" His words might have came off strong, and in some ways he meant for them to be just that, but it was also his brash way of thinking the lady he was to serve for allowing him in her service despit ehis failed duties to protect his old master, work was hard now, and so there was no denying just how grateful he was to be here even if he had a hell of a way of showing it.

 

[Asmodeus]

"It is good to travel with a giant feline. You catch more flies with hammers."

With his tenth nonsensical idiom of the day, Glyph sucked the marrow from a venison bone. He had put his smoking pipe aside and brewed a strange infusion that tasted of pomegranate. Red meat and red tea from the man of Kaustir.

The other side of the campfire was taken by Medwick, who scowled while nibbling a deer haunch. It was not so much the bard's chatter as the fact that he was doused, head-to-toe, in a sticky plant sap that reeked of something between eucalyptus and cinnamon. But at least the ointment had stopped him from scratching. He blew his nose a second time then returned to eating. "We should be careful," he murmured to Shardis. "We're getting close to Viridos."

Quill the Hedgehog nudged another deer bone towards Glyph. The old man picked it up and nodded. "He's right, you know. Stranger tsols lie ahead. The Chersonese is a melting pot for the cultures of Sunne. In some places it is a crime to hunt, and should you remove a beast from its voyn, your punishment will be to serve that habitat till your own death, tending the plants and families whose lives you unbalanced." He reached for another bone but Quill bit his finger, swiping the first bone away and nudging another at him. Glyph continued eating without pause. "And that is just the villages. In deeper forests, the trees and twilight fae will watch you. Curses can be cruel to trespassing shvents. Many mishpokhe lines, in Pegulis and beyond, still pledge their firstborn to the vald, as payment for ancient desecrations. Sivgild, they call it. A debt to the forest. Be careful what you kill, little kats."

"That's good!" Aerie flapped her wings and almost put out the fire in the process. The Avian was lounging on a tree branch above the campsite and picking her teeth. "So we've survived ice golems, avalanches, plague and a city of rapists. But now we'll get executed for pissing on an ant hill."

"If we had chosen the Kaustiran border, they would have executed us for fun," Shardis reminded her.

"What about the sea, Grandfather?" The voice came from behind Caoimhe's backpack, which had been pushed close to the fire. Shadows jolted behind it as the wolf-girl tore into the gristle and entrails of the deer. "What can we expect there?"

"The unexpectable, Vilde Chaye." Glyph let his hedgehog sniff his tea before bringing it to his lips. "No place in Sunne is more oysterlish than where the gods fell. Three hundred years cannot dissolve the whispers of a Cataclysm. A pantheon of death, fertility, joy, murder and magic makes strange tides."

Medwick's crow perched on his shoulder and stared intently at the old man. "You've sailed it?"

Glyph chuckled and took up his pipe. "Ahf mir gezogt! If I had sailed the Prosperos Sea I would not be shmoozing with you now. There are trade routes, yes, between Hosia and Avarath. But the heart of the sea, and the realm of the Deadlands? No man returns. He sails forever, in the old madness."

"This is the slowest suicide I've ever witnessed," was all Aerie had to say on the matter. She dropped her last deer bone on Shardis's head then curled over and went to sleep.

* * * * *​

The morning came with commotion, and shadows in the sun.

Medwick opened his eyes to a screeching, bickering sky. Birds, hundreds of them, heading due east in a whirl of feathers. At times the sunrise blue was lost to black and white. He could not count all the varieties, but seagulls were largest among them, deserting the coastland to join the exodus.

"They're fleeing." His aux, Carval, was perched on his backpack, and said the two words in his usual laconic manner. Medwick yawned and sat up to see Caoimhe crouching low and Shardis on tiptoes. Aerie, meanwhile, had not left her tree and was using it to lean out and peer into the sky.

"In case you're wondering," the Avian shouted above the din of bird squawks, "This is not a good omen!"

In the distance, above the green horizon of Viridos, strange and trouble clouds were seen. Yet this far out it was impossible to know that a city was crashing from the sky.

Glyph had already saddled his mule. Bird shadows danced across his wrinkled features. "Unexpectable, see? Birds in the bush, my friends. Come."

In minutes the swarm had passed, and the party were making their way down hillsides towards the sullen sands of the Prosperos shore.

​

.

 

[Seiji]

Barvelle

Coul paced about the room, eyes studying every little detail, taking in things that were new, and noticing things that had been long-since discarded. He nodded with every new piece of information the Archon gave him, the only sign he was paying attention at all to what she was saying.

He smiled when she apologized, shaking his head minutely. He turned to face her as she began to outline what she needed from him, but before she could say anymore, she was interrupted by a new man, Siris Dais, mercenary. He was not a man Coul respected as a whole; the man had talents, yes, but Siris was a sell-sword. His loyalty was bought and paid for, and Coul was not the type to rely heavily on those kind of men. Use them, but never rely upon them.

He nodded in simple greeting to Siris, and let the Archon continue. He nodded to the Animus as he entered a moment later. When the Archon finished, Coul's lips began to move when there was yet another interruption.

"Ahem, Good evening it is, I and Sir Wolfsin Silvermoon, he of many titles and none more befitting than his own name. I understand I am to be of service to one of you, yet I know not who. Might the person I am to serve grace me their pressence so I may bow my head to the only one that deserve it of me?"

Coul squinted in irritation. The braggart was another sell-sword, and from the ease in which he had accessed the High Tower (and as evidenced from his bold introduction), was the man in which the Archon's stewards had assigned as her bodyguard. He opted to ignore the man, and simply turn his attention to Eirene and her attendees.
"If you needed a bodyguard, I could have done the deed, as well as any other task you would have assigned me. You know I am more than capable, Lady Eirene.
But, to the matter at hand." Coul paused and scratched as his beard, turning away from the group to settle his thoughts.

"You are all here for a reason, so I will speak freely since we are all in Council. We have two tasks the Archon has laid out: Barvelle's defense, and the hunting down of Galain Medwick. It is clear which task belongs to which, but I see no reason we cannot speak now and share our collected knowledge." Coul turned to face them, and continued.

"First, we need to know what his happening on The Wall and in Tavark. We need Scouts, messenger birds, anything. I need to know who I can... communicate with. Second, I want a bulletin posted for militia volunteers, for any able-bodied man or woman. I do not want the people to feel forced into conscription, so the bulletin needs to be filled with 'hurrah' and morale-boosting language. We need to get as many people trained, as quickly as possible. We have too many scholars, and not enough people that know how to work with their hands.

Finally, you," Coul pointed to Siris, the gesture dramatic in the way he punctuated the word, "will be the man for tracking down Medwick, and you will lead the mission to do so."

 

[fatalrendezvous]

Ilsa Lisbon ― Ruins Beneath Fissura Pass, Indigo

At Arcantos' mention of the Ghoul Sage's magic being present here, Ilsa shuddered. Whether it was from fear, or merely from the damp cold settling into her bones was uncertain. She did know, though, that her thermic gems were beginning to lose heat and that if they didn't find an exit from the caverns soon, she might freeze to death.

Grabbing a torch as it was handed to her, she held it closer to her body than she might normally have, finding a bit of comfort in its warmth. Unlike the Draken, however, she stayed her sword; outside the presence of certain danger, she'd choose not to draw the weapon. Plus, a nagging, aching soreness tugged at the shoulder of her sword arm that had been steadily building since she awoke. Ilsa prayed that it was merely a bruising or pulled muscle and not something more serious.

Flecks of falling snow teased at the flames of their torches as the remaining men and women of the convoy followed into the chambers, mouths agape and necks craned back as they took in the underground halls with an eerie sense of wonder. All around them were massive stone statues, some as tall as buildings, many of them even taller than that. Each statue was ornately, precisely carved; workmanship the likes of which Ilsa had virtually never seen seemed to be the norm here. Despite her own worry, Pax seemed to appreciate having a large open space rather than the cramped alcoves, spreading his wings and taking off as he circled around the caverns from up high.

As Ilsa's eyes scanned her surroundings, Arcantos' words echoed through her head. Weekk by weekk, their voicess s'fell quiettt. Turnedd to Golems, like th' one out thhhere. People could be turned into golems? Were all golems necessarily people before, then? Her thoughts briefly wandered on the ice golem whose actions had brought this fate upon them, before refocusing on the caverns they stood in and their current predicament.

"Alright everyone, fan out and let's look for an exit. Don't wander alone - everyone make sure you have at least one person with you." Ilsa wandered the expansive ruins, her hazel eyes examining the monuments towering over them. Scattered about near the bases of these statues were weapons and other strange artifacts, clearly not of recent construction.

Lowering herself to one knee, she lifted an ancient-looking broadsword, almost looking like ones she'd read about in old texts in her studies. Wanting the opinion of someone with more expertise, she looked over the group in the ruins before her gaze landed on Vrein, one of the local blacksmiths in Aldus - perhaps its finest, as well. They'd discussed multiple times in the past when she needed his help to arm the Aldus Watch, and so Ilsa waved him over, motioning to the various weapons and relics around them.

"Vrein, I could use your expertise. I know you've an excellent eye when it comes to smithing - these weapons don't seem to be of typical Pegulis construction." Ilsa lifted one of the swords off the ground and extended it to Vrein for him to examine. "What do you think?"

 

[lynzy]

Shardis looked up from her meal at the old man with confusion. She was not one for mincing words and didn't trust the 'Mincing Old Man' that seemed to have trouble talking in a strait-forward manner even if to save his own life. She sighed and proceeded to ignore him until a small blue dragon settled down for a landing on Shar's shoulder and began preening itself and between nibbles it spoke. "He means... that it is dangerous to... hunt here, which doesn't make any sense! Why is it that in Pegulis, we... can hunt all we want and eat it or not, our choice and no one cares... but here where there is game everywhere, no one is allowed... to hunt even for the food on the table? It defies logic!"

Shar repeated her Tandra's statement to the others but didn't expect an answer and shrugged as a bone fell from above her and bounced into the fire causing an explosion of sparks. Shaking her head she decided to roll over and go to sleep, her Aux snuggling in to the fur on her neck-shoulder area.

The next morning the birds were well on there way towards them when Shardis rose stretching off the morning stiffness. "This can't be a good thing..." her little dragon whispered in her ear and then flew off. Like herself, Tandra was a quiet loner that didn't care for much interaction...with anyone, even Shardis. Picking up her backpack The Snow Leopard Anima dusted it off and swung it to her back and adjusted it to her shoulders for comfort and began breaking camp. She may have broken some gods-forsaken taboos about hunting last night but she noticed there wasn't any leftovers, not even a bone to suck on.

 

[Noctis the Devious]

While the last thing on the Tavarkians' mind was guarding against outside forces, no one missed the towering figure in the distance as it lumber its way toward what remained of their home. They watched the struggling anima right up to the point it collapsed from fatigue and if it were anything else they would have immediately jumped at the opportunity to help the man, but as it may have it the on looking Tavarkians merely murmured among themselves and exchanged nervous glances with one another. The dragon attack left everyone shaken and, though no one dared to say it out loud, a bit timid.

Aurormi pressed her chapped lips together in annoyance before finally loosing her patients. "Well don' just stand there! Go on and bring 'em in." Born in Barvelle and swept off her feet by a young hunter who had lost his way, Aurormi had been exposed to all sorts of creatures in contrast to the sheltered citizens of Tavark. An anima such as the one laying out in the cold snow didn't bother her as much as it did others.

There was a small debate on where he should go and what they should do with him, some worry over the remaining supplies and wether or not they could actually provide for the exhausted creature. In the end, the saber tooth ended up tucked away in Aurormi's own home on a bed made for one while Aurormi herself tended to his needs.

[drop][/drop][drop]M[/drop]eanwhile, talk of a party traveling back to Barvelle began to spread and almost immediately caught Amara's attention. Being the nosy busybody she was, she joined the gathering men and woman and listened in on the discussion before piping up, "I'll go too!"

"Amara," the local tavern keeper started, "Your mum would have our heads if we allowed you to come."

"Yeah but, I can navigate just as well if not better than any of you here and I can't just stand around and twiddle my thumbs while you lot seek out the unanswered questions of the universe!"

"The answer is no, Amara. Now go to your mum. She needs you now more than ever." While it wasn't explicitly stated, it was widely assumed that her father had perished out in the wilderness during the storm. The huntress herself couldn't come to terms with such a thing and promptly ignored the last statement in favor of huffing and stomping off in irritation. Who were they to tell her what she can and cannot do?! Tang sat silently perched on her shoulder and let her throw her small tantrum before getting her attention with a tap of his ethereal cane. Once he received an irked, "What Tang?" the aux pointed to an avian not too far away from where they currently were. A creeping devilish smirk combated the irritation as an idea struck her.

"I like the way you think."
​

 

[Lord Wraith]

M'VAE DON, blue

oming to, M'Vae looked around the cabin as he pushed himself up into a sitting up postion. His shoulder screamed out, as a sensation not unlike fire ripped down his back. Clutching a large paw to his shoulder, M'Vae struggled to retract his claws as he felt the coarse bandages wrapped around the wounds inflicted by the wolves. His large eyes darted around the room, spotting the damaging clothing as it hung over a nearby chair. Likewise, his weapons and tools were rested against a wall, while the smell of something cooking over an open fire filled his wide nostrils as he inhaled deeply. Pushing the fur hide blankets off of him, M'Vae groggily stood up as he reached for his shirt, gingerly slipping it on over his wounds. Looking down at the bandages as he buttoned up the shirt, M'Vae noticed the generous blood stains that dyed the once beige material a rusty brown.

Stepping out of the room he had been tucked away in, M'Vae looked around in what he could only assume was someone's home and considering he had not been bound or chained to his bed, it must be someone far open minded than those he had come to Tavark to search for. Wandering around the house, M'Vae looked around for whomever his rescuer was though the house seemed to be empty.

"'Ello? Is there anyone 'ere?" M'Vae called out, his husky voice echoing gently through the building. A fire was crackling away in the kitchen beneath a cast iron pot which insinuated whomever lived here had not gone far. His stomach growled as he walked over the pot, the smell of spiced meat boiling away in the broth filled his nostrils, the steam flowing through his airways and warming his chest. Noticing a wooden ladle nearby, M'Vae dipped the utensil into the pot before taking a loud slurp as his stomach growled angrily that he wasn't drinking the stew straight from the pot.

"Mmmm..." He purred happily. "A hunter lives here."

 

[Ai]

Vrein Bealithar - Ruins Beneath Fissura Pass, #285bd2

Rays of brilliant white light shone against the walls of the crystal clear cavern, illuminating their path as magnificent ancient structures came into view. Following a short distance behind, Vrein allowed himself to fall prey to the feeling of awe toward the people who built this place; it was magnificent, like a fairy tale.

An unhealthy sense of paranoia crept through Vrein as his dark eyes journeyed across to the figures that were supposedly once human, cursed to remain as stone silent and forgotten within the dark corners of this ancient city. Something didn't quite add up Why would he keep them locked up then turn them to stone? this 'sage' that Arcantos spoke of danced around the depths of his thoughts as he peered toward the stranger What do you know that we don't?

A thundering chuckle from Ion disrupted his thoughts, when he realized Ilsa was giving out more orders. The polar bear was practically grinning toward him, though it said nothing Bastard, he glared. The damn bear knew all too well he hated being partnered with people at the best of times.

"Vrein, I could use your expertise. I know you've an excellent eye when it comes to smithing - these weapons don't seem to be of typical Pegulis construction." He suddenly heard Ilsa call over to him. Turning his attention from Ion with a raised eyebrow, he noticed she was holding broadsword out to him. "What do you think?" Kneeling down next to her, Vrein gently took the Broadsword, handling it carefully as if it were made of thin ice. Inspecting the blade thoroughly, his hand ran over the flat of it, the stone was smooth, the edges sharp, pure and pristine; untouched by the gnawing effects of the ice. Making its way toward him, Ion looked down toward the weapon "It is time" the bear's low voice grumbled, eyes glowing of soft blue energy that flowed into Vrein.

Borethian Ore, created when lightning hits a high energy substance. This blade is alloyed with the substances copper. Melting point molten, it is quick to cool. Taking a hold of the hilt, Vrein scraped the blade across the ice floor, ignoring the unpleasant shriek that emitted from it. Curiosity overwhelming him while he watched the black stone turn a deep crimson, burning like hot coal. The metal conducts electrical pulses and heats up, enabling it to cut through thick layers of ice. It appears to be of two hundred and sixty three years old since forging. The recommended uses of this ore, to create offensive weaponry.

The energy shared between Vrein and Ion began to vanish, the dark brown colours of earthern browns returning to his eyes, full of doubt and concern "I think it's dangerous," he replied bluntly. "The ore is a rare substance, I've not seen it before but it appears to conduct electrical surges upon contact, sending pulses through the metal that rubs against the stone like material causing it heat up."

Looking upon his friend properly for the first time since their journey, he marveled at Ilsa for a moment as the snowflakes fell softly against her golden hair. Giving her a rare smile, Vrein handed the blade back to her "Don't break it." he teased, chuckling as he remembered the amount of times she'd come to him about her sword.

"It's nice to see you again," he whispered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. Vrein didn't like to admit it, but being in Ilsa's company was the most comfortable he'd felt their entire voyage.

 

[PigIron]

Proditius - Beneath Fissura Pass, lightblue

Silent, Proditius stewed in its thoughts.
It had done everything that had been asked of it. Its commands were complete, so why did it not want to return to its master?
The man that had thrown an axe at Proditius' head; Castigarian, was it? Had picked what remained of the golem up, chattering with the woman that had met Proditius in single combat and investigating the source of magic Proditius had thrown himself at; hungering for the power it might provide.
The enchantment; whatever it was, did not matter to Proditius. Proditius was sapped. Drained of almost all magical energy with the effort of pulling the pass down onto the heads of the caravan. And now The Ice golem needed magical energy or else it would enter hibernation, waiting for some passing wizard to use some magic he could absorb from under a hundred tons of snow and ice, and who could tell how long that could be?

The orb in Castigarian's pocket dropped in temperature slightly as Castigarian entered the highly magical area. Proditius took to it like a drowning man takes to the last drips of water in his canteen, desperately taking any wisp of centuries-old magic that passed by it, drawing in the power it so desperately needed.

However, as he ate, he listened, a rune appearing on the marble with the sound of stone scraping on stone, that translated loosely to "Listen" in old Pegulian. "-The Gh'ul Sage kept them in deeper cellssss. Weekk by weekk, their voicess s'fell quiettt. Turnedd to Golems, like th' one out thhhere." Came the rasping voice, and Proditius did a metaphorical double take. Golems were made from other beings? But that meant-
Proditius paused, and inside the marble a ring of runes tightened and darkened to a deep blood red, straining to keep the thought from Proditius' mind, but the golem fought back. The thought was suppressed, for now, but an odd inquisitiveness replaced it. Who were these people? What else did they know?

The group fanned out to look for and exit, and the marble began to grow a thin film of ice as the magical fields surrounding the area were slowly absorbed.

 

[DotCom]

Aerie - Cherson-ridos, firebrick

Aerie would never have called herself superstitious -- and, in fact, would either laugh at or stab, should the mood take her, anyone who did -- but flying in the face of so many what could only be called bad omens seemed like a markedly bad idea in her book.

Granted, their little group had not been whittled down to the size it was because of an overabundance of good ideas. There were times when she strongly suspected Bossy Human would have better been named 'Incredibly Stupid Human' or 'Incredibly Lucky Human', given his predilection for perilously bad ideas...and his frustrating, though ultimately useful, habit of surviving them.

Still. This one seemed exceptionally bad, and not just because she was going home.

"So," she said to no one in particular, over lazy wingbeats, though verdant green eyes still raked the sky, for what, she couldn't guess. "Someone explain to me again why it's so important we finish this mission? Are we not allowed at least a break? Maybe this is all part of the...what was it now? The 'gods' plans? Maybe every nation gets a set. Maybe we can all learn to share. Maybe we need not continue sprinting toward that cliff in the distance that is almost certainly over looking upturned spikes."

The cliff was metaphorical. The spikes were not.

When no one answered, she groaned and dropped down a few more feet from the otherwise far-too-slight altitude she was keeping up.

"Because we've faced pits full of spikes, remember? Does no one remember that? I remember that. And do you remember what came with the spikes? Because it was not magical god weapons, it was hungry ice trolls." A pause. "Okay, maybe those are the same thing, but either way, they were certainly not on our side!"

Of course, her flawless logic was no good. They were all of them headed inexorably, stubbornly toward that ridge of destruction and beyond, and she right along with them. Why? She had never understood the loyalty that so tied one man to his task, another to his country, a third to a person to whom he owed no real debt. Her people hailed from Pegulis, her family from Viridos, and Aerie had never felt an abundance of love or loyalty toward either.

And yet here she was, facing down death with these people who had so often seen her nearly killed...and just as often prevented said death.

If there was anything to be said about the notion of loyalty, it was only that it was strange. And struck like a plague. Debilitating, with little warning, and only those who understood it least.

 

[Porg]

Tavark

"Go by the old ruins route" Ture squawked in a faux deep voice as gripped the small backpack he now sported and tugged it up onto his shoulders. "The roads are too dangerous right now" He continued, trying to mimic Dion's large stance. He took a second to breathe, he was frustrated, it was bad enough when he was going to be making the trip to Barvelle with his foreman. The dragon had put a stop to that after Dion had gone full hero and received a broken arm for his trouble.

The worst thing was, loathe as Ture was to admit it, Dion was right. The trip had to be made, and what with dragons and this Ghoul Sage figure around the roads were likely a bad choice. "You must tell the Archon about those ruins it could be important!" He squawked deeply to himself. Dion was right, but the venting was making Ture feel a tiny bit better.

He was keeping a wide birth from the dragon, he didn't want to be anywhere near the thing, and at the very least the journey would allow him to put some distance between him and it. He turned to glare at a stone wall that was roughly in the same direction as the giant tied down beast when he caught something in his peripheral

He watched as Amara ran towards him waving her arms and grinning madly. Taking a second to look around to see who she was waving at Ture realised the focus of her attention was him as she slowed and leaned on her own knees, catching her breathe a second.

"Uh.. yes?"

 

[Navras]

Aldus - Azareth Searching

"Are there anymore issues to be addressed? If not, we would retire."

A small crowd of civilians, city guards scholars like Azareth had gathered in the small court yard just outside of the Council's chambers in the heart of Aldus. The seemingly mummified man stood in the heart of the crowd, watching the events as they unfolded. This was a public spectacle, one that happened every few days in Aldus he had come to learn. Five members made up the city council and the council members all sat in a semi circular table towards the back of the courtyard. Three men, two women, all of them ta least in their thirties from the looks of them. Four guards were positioned around the table, two tot he left and two to the right. A small circular marble platform barely a foot off of the ground was in front of the table so that all who had business with the council could step forth and voice their woes.

To the left were a couple of young looking individuals scribbling away on scrolls that unfurled from their laps down to their feet. Record keepers, so that nothing that was said or done would go missed for the Council's records. That was smart and efficient, no doubt there was some vault somewhere that held all of the records from these meetings. An entire history of Aldus from the inception of the council until now...

A man stepped forward, clothed all in brown of various shades and with a hat in his hands. He seemed a bit reluctant, but all the same he had stepped forward. Azareth watched him as he stood on top of the marble circle, ready to voice his worries. "Begging your pardon, honorable members of the council, but it's been three days now and there's been no word as to the return of the convoy or their safety... My son is there, along with many others' I'm sure. Could the council perhaps send a rescue party to try and retrieve them? This very afternoon?"

The crowd stirred a bit, murmurs between this person and that. The members of the council also shifted, one of the old men to the right rubbing his eyes, another leaning forward and placing his hands together. One of the woman closed her eyes and seemed to deflate as if with sighing. The other woman stood up, placing her hands on the table and the crowd grew quiet. Her hair was a very light blond, wandering towards grey and held back with various strands and accessories. Her robes were light blue - the color of ice - and ornately decorated with symbols to show her status as a council member, as were all five of them. She spoke to the man directly, her voice soft and full of caring. "We're doing all that we can for those trapped under the ice. Avian scouts are flying here and there every day, bringing us news and anything of importance. A rescue team has been considered, but without the proper information we cannot risk sending more men and women out to possibly meet the same fate. I understand your worries, truly I do, but I implore all of you to heed my words now: The city of Aldus is not sitting by and twiddling our thumbs. We are doing all that we can, and we will have results before long. I ask all of you, on behalf of the Council of Aldus, to be patient for just a little bit longer. We are doing all that we can."

Again the crowd stirred, moving almost as a mass and voicing concerns among themselves. The council woman sat down and looked from one member of the council to the next, as if asking of their approval. The man who had stepped onto the podium now stepped off, bowing his head and walking back into the crowd, putting his arm around a woman and holding her close to his side. His wife, Azareth assumed, and mother to the aforementioned lost child. He didn't pay attention to that though. What he did pay attention to was the general reaction to the crowd. They seemed to relax as one, the words of comfort having put them at a collective ease it seemed. The council held some very obvious sway with Aldus, and that was intriguing...

A man stood up, a member of the council, to the right of the woman who had spoken such soft works, holding up his hand and calling for silence. "That will be all for today's Convene. We will Convene again in two days' time." He wore the same ice blue robes as his other council members yet wore a headdress that distinguished him from the rest in some way that Azareth did not yet know. At his word, the crowd began to disperse and thin, heading back into the city itself and out of the courtyard. Azareth stayed, and watched the council members talk among each other even if he could not hear them. The council member in the headdress motioned for one of the record keepers to come to him and a young red headed boy did as he was bid, carrying all of the scrolls he had with him. Handing them over to the councilman, the old man began to pour over the document while the woman to his right did the same. The other three were talking among themselves. This was his chance.

As the crowd departed, Azareth stepped forward through them and onto the marble podium. The tap of his staff prompted the attention of the councilwoman who had spoke, which in turn drew the attention of the others to this strange man warped in black and wrapped in bandages. "Members of the council," Azareth spoke softly, turning his head from one to the other. The four guards stirred a bit but settled as one of the other men held up their hand. They were interested in what the man before them had to say. "I come before you today with a personal matter, one that does not require the spectacle of a crowd. I am a traveling scholar from Tavark, and I come here to Aldus seeking employment in your personal services."

A stir was earned from this proposal, and a bored one at that. "We have scholars unending in our service already, traveler. We do not need another, especially in these times of woe and worry," said the councilman wearing the headdress. He didn't want to have yet another scholar's name to remember. "Now now, do not be hasty," said the man tot he far right. "In these troubling times, could we not use all of the help that we can acquire? Perhaps this... young man could offer us new perspective on our mountain of issues." A general wave of agreement went through the other members of the council. The man in the headdress sighed and looked back at Azareth. "What is your name, traveler?" asked the blond woman.

"Azareth, ma'am," he said, bowing his head to the councilwoman and giving Mordran a tap on the marble stand. "Azareth, you have no doubt heard of the troubles of the convoy that we sent to Bravelle just three days ago. What you may not have heard is even more unsettling than that. You are a stranger to us, looking for our employ and asking to be of aid to us - yet we know nothing about you, not even your face. What is it that would have us consider you as one of our aids?"

"If I may be so bold, honorable members of the council," Azareth spoke, his voice low and inviting. He could tell that they were not considering his offer seriously, which was a problem for him. They wished to go and he could not have them leave without being in their services. He needed the gems, but more importantly, he needed the information that would go with it. Beneath the bandages covering his head, his aux pulsated and contracted and his words became as the warmth of a fire on a dark night, the comfort of a mother's love. "I am more qualified than any in your service to help you with whatever you may need of me. My knowledge, skills and resources make me the perfect servant for you, especially in these troubled times. You need me in your employment, so that I may help bring those trapped in the ice home, and whatever else that is troubling you."

A moment of silence rang out over the courtyard. Members of the council looked at each other, mulling over Azareth's words and making a decision. The decision, though, had already been made for them. "Very well," said the man to the far right, standing up from his chair. The other members followed suit. "We will call on you tomorrow. Where might we find you?"

"The Rusty Tankard, to the south near the gate," Azareth said coolly. The councilman nodded and turned to walk away. The others followed his lead, the four guards stepping out beside them to flak their way, the two record keepers rolling up their scrolls tightly and picking up their quills and ink, dutifully following their masters. Azareth turned and headed back southward through the city. Just like that, he was in the employment of the council. Just what he would be doing was as of yet unknown, but he was certain he'd find out tomorrow. His mind wandered to the ancient book in A Way's Away... he would have it soon enough.

 

[Asmodeus]

A shadowed archway was formed by slumping statues on the left of the chamber. It was through here that Arcantos ventured, his back guarded by a Forest Kin with dark, pine-cone skin. The pair trod lightly, and kept their eyes on the vault.

The statues were at once familiar and alien. He recognised one with the head-dress of a Viridosi priest, so alike the storybook etchings his father had shown him. And yet another wore the bird-mask of an Ipari guard, the breather apparatus clearly carved. Weapons lay, rusted and ice-smothered, around the bases as if given in offering. And at times there were stranger depictions - dragons with serpent tails, men sprouting wings from their mouths, almond-faced fey in painful throes, and Animas, everywhere, fused together in the marble swirl.

It was Shamanic. It was visceral.

Around the statues were signs of ancient structure. Half-arches, broken balustrades, collapsed gantries. At one time the cavern had been divided into rooms, before the frailer stone had weathered. Now only a skeleton outline remained.

Arcantos snapped an icicle from one of the archways and sucked on it while he headed onwards. The water trickled down his throat, then caught slightly as he spluttered. The next vista was an arresting one.

​

The rear portion of the chamber was given over to a single centerpiece. The ice of the great carving had melted only slightly in its millennial sleep. The dragon's features were still clear. The wings glittered in subtle shafts of sunlight from the cavern roof.

"Find Cap'n Ilsa."

The Forest Kin looked to Arcantos, his pine-needle fur up on end. "We must stick together."

"Then get b'ck quickkk," the Draken retorted. "Bef're somethin eats me."

The Forest Kin eyed him for a few seconds, before turning and rushing back between the statues. And as he alerted the others, Arcantos went on alone, mounting the gentle incline of snow that took him up to the statue. Already, from a distance, he could see the stone sarcophagus, cloaked in ice, which mounted the headland before the dragon's maw. It was facing up at it, like a baby's cradle to its mother.

Arcantos sheathed his swords, hoisted himself up, and stood unsteadily in the shadow of the dragon's neck. The sarcophagus was ten feet away, and from here he could see inside. Something lay in there - bone and granite - exoskeletal remains. Like a suit of armour, long neglected.

​

He tilted his head; stuck out his tongue. The enigma was unnerving.

He did not step closer. Only squatted and eyed the sarcophagus as the others arrived.