Tales of Talvien: The Maddening Mist [IC]

ethicalslut

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TALES of TALVIEN: The Maddening Mist

CHAPTER ONE - A BAND BORN AMIDST THE FLAMES

"Will we just stand around and wait to succumb to her fire? Or will we stand strong and defiant in it's light?" - OCTAVIUS, PATRON OF LAW

A lone lizard sits on her stool at the center of the tavern's stage. She commands the small space with sharp confidence, her long legs stretched over the threshold and her clawed hands resting lightly on a weathered lute. The warm glow of the lanterns strung above the crowd reflects of her golden scales when the coolest of whistles escapes her lips without an inkling of effort. Heads along the room turn to her as she beckons and only when all eyes have found her does she speak.​

Her voice is honey to the ears. It's assured and without stutter.

"Tell me fair people, have you heard the tale of those who saved these very lands oh so many years ago?" The bard pauses as her sharpened gaze reads the reactions across the floor. It is only with the sliest of smiles does she begin speaking once more. "I refer not to the Thirteen and the war they waged against the creator but instead the Heroes of the Mist... the six mortals who, without help from haughty celestial beings, brought the continent of Talvien back from the brink?"​

A low laughter rumbled from her as confusion settled within the room. It did not surprise her that these people knew not what prices were paid so they could live and drink as they were. The common folk always forget in the end, the bard knew that far too well. Soon enough the lizard sat a little straighter in her chair and with the curve of a finger she played the very first string.​

"Well then... allow me to enlighten you."​

Ozztarak Crane truly thought this little trip had potential. I mean not just anyone was given a carriage across the continent without charge after all, but he was more than sure he could happily do away with being chained to the wagon the entire time. Oh and if the maddening fog threatening to swallow Talvien whole could just disappear things would just be downright chappy! Oh how nice and unproblematic that would be, Ozz thought.​
And those two descriptors were precisely why it would never happen he also thought.​
Talvien was in shambles. Even the half-orc could see that from the sorry excuse of a window the nobles of Dorothea had given him. Almost every village, city, and settlement they passed through on the way to the Kaleshian Empire had the same expression painted on the commonfolk's face. Fear. Inconsolable, inescapable fear. All the races were threatened by the reemergence of The Mist and perhaps that was why Ozztarak was okay shouldering the needless cruelty of his human captors.​
They were bringing him to the only person with seemingly enough brain to plan against the Mist instead of fear it--Kirvam Ozirius, a high ranking member of the senate board that ruled only second to the Lizard Empress herself. Even if he was some (literally) coldblooded politician no doubt drenched in silks and golds, Ozz was willing to take him over nothing, and it was that thought that made the trip to Kirvam's luxurious summer estate northwest of the Cadeira bearable.​
Ozz watched the world outside the carriage transform from mountains, to plains, and eventually unending vineyards. It had taken nearly two months, but they had arrived, and it was apparent from the moment the doors swung open and Ozz was blinded by the light that this senator had no intention of wasting any more time. The half orc was unchained and soon ushered through the grandest pair of doors he had ever seen. Past the doors he was moved through an entrance corridor and an inner courtyard before finally entering a lavish banquet hall.​
Ozz quickly realized that he had kept quite a lot of people waiting. The long table that stretched the distance of the room was cast off to the side to make space for the sheer amount of adventurers that had been gathered by Kirvam. The likes of knights, rogues, and brigands filled the room and the sounds of a hundred different conversations quieted the moment the half orc arrived.​
"Oh go on and stare, I know it's hard to resist with a face like this." Ozztarak grinned widely, baring his orc-blooded fangs.​
It was Ozz's instinct of course to then bow mockingly at the crowd that had turned to see him, that had turned to see the only man in Talvien capable of moving himself and others through the Fog. The scoff of disapproval that came from Kirvam, who stood opposite to Ozz at the other end of the room, was almost universally heard as with a snap of the senator's talons, Ozztarak Crane was dragged through the crowd and to the stage at the front.​
"Welcome brave adventurers to my humble home!" Kirvam roared with the confidence and practice expected of a Kaleshian elite as he took center stage. The politician spoke with his chin high, the deep red tint of his scales a sign of nobility and elegance to his fellow lizards. "The day we have all been awaiting for has finally come. We finally have an answer to the damnable Mist that has terrified Talvien all these years."​
With a single gesture to Ozz the crowd of fighters and rogues roar, the senator waiting with a smile for the sound to die down before continuing.​
"I will not bore you here with an impassioned speech. We all know what is at stake here. Together with the help of this crossbreed, we will travel deep into lost halfling territory and destroy whatever has brought this cursed fog to our lands. Those of you who survive will be rich, those of you who rise to become leaders will be acknowledged and most importantly..."​

"Talvien will be saved!"

Everything that followed the roar of approval from Kirvam's words happened impossibly quick. Young human servants appeared from seemingly nowhere and with the help of the senator's lizard vanguard, the adventurers were moved and the table, as well as a serious bounty of food, were brought back to the center. With a roaring laugh and the rise of a goblet of wine, Kirvam declared that the night before a large journey would be done as lizards have always seen fit--a grand feast.​
The night soon descended into such a frivolous event that any outsider would look on and not know these people were on a mission to save the continent. To many it must have seemed foolish to take things so lightly, but it made sense considering The Kaleshian Empire was the one nation that has always sat furthest from the fog and it's danger. The celebrations and feasting extended late into the night, all the adventurers that had gathered eventually given guest rooms in Kirvam's sprawling mansion.​
Come morning, Ozztarak, the senator and three dozens brave souls would be setting off. Or so that was the plan... because as soon as every full stomach hit their plush silk bed, the forces that worked against them began their work. It only took one spark to set the land surrounding the estate aflame and only a couple of fireballs to fill Kirvam's halls with choking smoke and the undeniable smell of burning flesh.​
It was an attack and one without mercy. As helpless adventurers burned alive those who had been lucky enough to not be caught in the initial strike suddenly found themselves with just one goal.​

Get out alive.

Hey guys! Welcome to the IC thread for Talvien--it's happening! Woot. This tab will always be at the end of story progressing posts to let you guys know the different objectives I have for each character. We'll be starting off with a round of collab posts where our characters will try to not to burn alive while they escape! By the end of this round I need every character to meet up at the courtyard--how you get there and what injuries you sustain are completely up to you and your collab partner(s). Just know that the unknown attackers are pumping fireballs round after round trying to bring the entire estate down.

So without further ado here are the specific situations of each of our characters.

@PoetLore & @Moonstone Jarek is the guard assigned outside Ozztarak's bedroom door, Dusk's room is right across the hall. I'll be writing with both of you as our trio gets a hold of themselves, fights off knife-y assassins that have come to finish off those who haven't fallen to the flames, and find themselves in the courtyard.

@Kuno & @Applo Reva and Silph were assigned the same room. However the night had went, now they must focus on relying on a stranger to get themselves through the attack alive. I'll also be collaborating with you guys as Reva and Silph will be the ones to run into our scaly senator Kirvam who is essential not only to our survival but the expedition! Our two badass ladies will be travelling from their room through the banquet hall (that is receiving a lot of fiery attention) in order to get to the armory where most adventurers had their weapons taken to for safekeeping. That's where Kirvam will be (and when I come in).​
 
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A carriage ride? Something he only thought possible in stories that he has been told of chivalrous Knights, beautiful maidens of royal birth. Though the truth may be more, very common people, who had a lot of wealth and thus a lot of prestige. Something he had neither of, wealth and prestige that is. Folks were still trying to figure him out. Angel or demon? The horns said something sinister, but the way the translucent ends glowed in the light, said something - divine? The shimmering flecks in his pale blue skin were distinct and made him stand out even from his own infernal brethren. In the end, he caused a lot more staring than he was comfortable with.

Though Talvien was in crisis, a mist threatened to swallow the land they called home whole and he was willing to prove that he wasn’t simply a fiend with a lack of honor. That is why he had volunteered for this trip. To prove that something as abominable as him, according to some, could have honor and loyalty to their place of birth. While he wasn’t born here, exactly. Here being Kirvam Ozirius. It seemed there was only one individual willing to combat the mist or at least have a plan to combat something that seemed so cosmic to many. The mist had no allies, while it had enemies, some probably wondered if the idea of combating it is a lost cause.

He’s never been to an estate before. He had seen plenty. Lavishness is often meant for display. Except that he didn’t quite feel like he fit in with the crowd. Many gazes, many questions and confusions. Somehow he felt like he stuck out, even with a half orc it appears. A meal was prepared, though he understood the importance of tending to his own business when making others uncomfortable, instead preferring to remain in the background and hoping he wouldn’t have to stumble too much with social etiquette.

Ana noticed the tiefling immediately, but unlike many who strayed from the male’s path, Ana found herself drawn to greet him and strike a conversation about the expedition everyone seemed hyped about. She weaved through a series of disgruntled folks and others tipsy to grab a glass of red wine for herself and for the tiefling who was truly stunning. She approached the male with a confident gait and proffered him the glass with a small smile on her face.

“Nothing better to drown their muttering than with a glass of red wine. I’m Ana and you are–?”

An elf, with brown braided hair and dawned in silver accessories. Beautiful, but he was certain, deadly. Faint scars could be seen on her skin, they told stories of her skirmishes. He nods his head politely in greeting, “Dusk,” he adds politely, “I do not partake.” he eyed the glass of red wine. The idea made him anxious that some might eye an intoxicated demon with animosity, “Thank you though, I appreciate the generosity. So, you have volunteered to defeat the mist. With the company of a half orc, myself, and the lizards being the ones to try and do so, it almost feels like we’re being hired as ambassadors for the disenfranchised.” he smiles.

“That’s meant as a joke,” he adds quickly.

She raised a brow at his decline and smiled, “You’re missing out, you know. I suppose, in a way, we are being hired for the unfortunate. We’ve lived with the knowledge that the mist would lie dormant for a long time until fairly recently. It’s something that needs to be stopped and the reward for stopping it, I hear is quite a hefty amount of gold.”

Gold. A motivation to many. He really wasn’t here for the gold. The simple fact was and is the mist threatens everyone and he desired the world to continue living. He had no expectations that they would survive the task to even spend the gold on anything.

He smiles, “Curious. What would you do with all that gold?”

Ana chuckled, “I’m certain they’d split it between the six of us fairly. There are many things one could do with all of that gold; pay their family out of debt, build a better life for themselves, or give it to the poor. Harvest could be more fruitful, burials could be less agonizing…”

She wouldn’t dare tell Dusk the truth of why she was here. It’d distract her. She took a large sip from her first glass of wine.

“You are brave enough to walk these halls, despite the looks many give you. How did you find out about this opportunity? Not many come across an expedition quite like this.”

Ana had dodged his question, though he wasn’t entirely the type to push. In time, he’d likely figure out the answer among many of the adventures merely by watching them. Few would engage with him in the first place.

“I heard through the grapevine about this expedition,” The truth was more complicated than that though, Vynn a young Lizard he had grown up with would have recklessly volunteered despite his inexperience. Dusk had always felt the need to protect those that he has met along the way and cared or tended to them in the way that they tended to him. The secondary purpose of the trip arose on his way here, as he decided that he would show the other races that he possessed traits and qualities of a person to them. A person of merit that is, “to be truthful. Aren’t you as brave? I’ve seen other quest with near as much the same amount of gold. And yet you are flinging yourself at the mist.” He looks directly at her, eyes narrow and a little glint in his eyes. To tease her a bit.

The teasing from Dusk was cute, but she was less prepared for any sort of teasing and thought of the whole grand scheme as something serious, not to be messed with. It was good to see some light in others at least, even if she didn’t quite have it in herself.

“There’s something to be said for flinging myself at the mist for this amount of gold, isn’t there? It’s worth the trouble, unlike what I’ve heard before about other quests,” she laughed a little. “Please enlighten me. This is the first time I’ve heard of a quest with this much gold. What else have you heard of?”

That surprised him. Leif had a habit of finding jobs with ridiculous amounts of money. She was always trying to pay her way out of Nature’s Throat,“I don’t want to be an elf any more, I want to be a human and own a castle” she said the last they spoke.

“I have a friend who has a habit of finding insane amounts of gold for jobs,” Dusk replies, “it’s work that the prestigious upper class hire others to do.”

“A habit, hm? Your friend must be well off now if she’s obtained ridiculous amounts of gold like this,” Her first glass of wine was almost gone. “I’ve only been privy to so much, though you must know almost as much as I do about the jobs out there, if you have a friend like that.”

Truth was he hadn’t really looked for jobs himself personally. He lived in a paradox at current, he desired for people to accept him as he is and to see the personhood of himself. But he was often denied work or he often remained to himself. People look upon a surface and often judge before they further dissect the truth.

“She also gambles,” he says with a slight smile, “that might play into it. Last I heard she was trying to buy herself a castle.” he shakes his head, “I know about jobs because I overhear others stories.” he nods politely.

Others. His odd, extended family, that comes and goes like the tide. Individuals who have accepted him for who he is or individuals who grew up alongside him. His network tight knit and somewhat small.

“A castle, hm? Remind me to look into that,” Ana started on her second glass of wine and passed the empty one off to a servant. The rest of the night was rather quaint, filled with little misgivings between the tiefling and elf. Guests retired for the night later on and it seemed to be a mere coincidence that Dusk and Ana were placed in a room together. The night was warm and Ana, as much as she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, could not manage to gain rest. That was not the worst part though.

Something smelled like smoke. Ana immediately left her bedside and quickly got dressed. The castle was strangely warm, heat building up, and screams could be heard.

“Fire! Get everyone out of the castle! Fire!” Ana heard. She ran over to Dusk’s bedside and shook him.

“Dusk, wake up! Get dressed!”

The evening went well, he assumed. He hadn’t quite made a social error as he feared he might, the elf made him feel more comfortable though as he was partially raised by elves at some point in his life. When the evening came to a close, he found himself unable to get comfortable. The scents were different and the sounds were not the usual ambience of the forest. No scent of pine or grass. No sound of the swaying wheat in the distance. He found himself propping his back to the wooden frame of the bed. While he drifted, not in a deep sleep, but at least a moment to calm his mind.

Visions of charred bodies. The scent of flames. Blood. Death and destruction something that brought him anticipation, but it was Ana’s voice that shattered the temptation.

“I am up,” he replies.

“Get dressed! The estate’s caught on fire,” Ana finished gathering the last of her equipment together and rushed over to the window. The drop down was too far. They had to find another way out.

Ana felt the door; cool to the touch.

“It’s safe to go out this way. Get your things and come on!”

He didn’t have much things to grab, he simply followed staying in the back Ana out in the hall. Something infernal in him anticipated, a fight.

“What do you see?” he asked her, placing his hand behind his back.
Ana moved quickly, her feet light as a feather. People screamed and smoke billowed in every direction. She rounded the corner a bit too fast and all of a sudden, a fireball came roaring past. She stumbled back, “Certainly everything you’d be used to, I’m assuming.”

Ana wasn’t in the mood to play games right now. She began to trace their steps toward the courtyard where she’d been greeted at the beginning of the afternoon. A blade suddenly appeared out of nowhere and Ana reflexively dodged to the side. Another blade appeared and Ana rolled out of the way as another man tried to strike her, yet ended up swiping his blade towards Dusk instead.


Ana stood back up immediately, well aware that her bow and arrows would not do anyone any good in this moment. Save for that, she also had a skinning knife— for the hunt… when it was the right time. Five well dressed men surrounded her and Dusk. She silently cursed and wished in the moment, she’d taken up her lover’s suggestion of learning hand to hand combat with daggers with him.

“Dusk, if you have anything worth shining right now, it’d be a great time to knock these men off their feet!”

Footsteps. Whispering voices and the smell of smoke. He was ready for the hunt long before Ana spoke. She dodged an attack and he used the opportunity to move without being noticed. As she spoke he had already thrusted his dagger into the man’s throat. The sounds of him gurgling on his own blood, drowning out the last bits of what Ana said.

Ana hadn’t realized how far Dusk had been in until some of the man’s blood splattered onto her. He was already one step ahead of her. A yell came from one of the men on the left side and Ana pulled out her skinning knife. It wasn’t typically used for close quarter fights like this, no, but the situation called for something more sharp and direct than her arrows. The assassin maneuvered his daggers like a dance, blades moving almost too fast for Ana to comprehend as he took another slice at her and caught her arm as she tried to dodge the man’s finesse. She made it to the side and saw an opening at his waist and stabbed hard until her whole blade was covered in his blood. She dragged it down from his waist to a couple inches below his hip and pulled it out. The man screamed and writhed in agony, yet he did not surrender completely and tried to stand back up to take her down.

There was a movement in his blind spot, probably one of the assassins trying to take advantage with the thought in mind that he would be distracted by what Ana was doing. He barely moving out of the way of the assassin charging on his side, the blade hardly grazing his skin. Clearly the individual was trying to seize the moment and was hoping he didn’t have the reflex to notice. Dusk grabbed the individual by their shoulder as they brushed past him, eyes aglow as floating knives rotated around him. Dusk released the knives to pierce the individuals back.

“Not very quiet for assassins,” he mentions.

“I mean,” Ana began, stabbing another man in the shoulder behind the clavicle. “They are in a fight!”

She went back to the man who’d sliced her across the fold of her arm who was still trying to take her down. His red face and grunting told her that he was trying hard to hold back his pain. He could barely move efficiently as it was and Ana had the advantage of diving behind him and popping up to grab his jaw and the top of his head before he could turn around and take a step back.

“Whoever you are, you aren’t welcome here.”

A sickening crack followed as the assassin fell to the floor, dead.

Perhaps they should give the other two a chance to save their lives? Looking at the scrape on his arm with a curious expression, he trips one of the individuals taking a swipe at him while he was “distracted”. Stepping on his leg, “Give and survive this encounter.” he looks at the other living individual.

“Survive?!”

One of the men’s weapons hit the floor. Ana shook her head and charged the man who was now unarmed. She grabbed him by the neck and stabbed his jugular vein without question. His blood poured as he began to cough up blood, and eventually, laid dead as well.

“These men intruded the Emperor’s estate and tried to kill us!”

“And I am,” Dusk looked at the brutally mauled neck of one of the corpses, “one to believe that no person is evil and deserves a second chance.”

Especially considering the man he was holding down was trembling.

“None of them deserve mercy,” Ana stated coldly. With that said, she walked up to the trembling man Dusk was holding and grabbed him by the arm. She jerked him away from the tiefling and in a split second, that man was gone too with a skinning knife to the jugular. Ana collected from the men what she could carry and wiped off her skinning knife as best she possible.

“We don’t need any more distractions. Let’s go.”

Dusk and Ana continued to make their way towards the courtyard. It wasn’t as straightforward as they would’ve liked with danger in every step they took, but they’d managed.

The lack of mercy was how someone defined a demon; Dusk wasn’t calling Ana a demon, but anyone cleaning up their corpses would wonder if the tile floor splattered in blood and the mangled wounds might reflect the day a Tiefling walked into the Empire. They would wonder if he was the one who did all of this. Mercy was a side effect of not being judged by his trait, and while he searched for honor and respect from others, he believed the same should be put on others as well. Assassins were hired and assassins were often made when they felt they had no other choice in the matter. Rahn, someone he knew from his past, was like that. Rahn grew up poor and desired riches, but the only work a lower classman like him was able to find was indentured work. Slave wages with slave labor due to his income. He picked up the work of killing because it was the quickest and fastest kind of gold he could get. Sometimes Dusk wondered if Rahn found what he wanted, now that he was no longer here. It was an odd thought to have while their lives were in peril within the heat of a burning estate.

They eventually made it to the cool air outside into the courtyard and there was sort of a dark beauty about the night. Smoke kissed the stars and flames turned a midnight blue sky orange lit with hues of purple.

As Ana broke out of the heated estate into the cool night air, she ran all the way to the stables and checked on her horse. Thankfully, the animals were safe... for now. She led the horse she’d brought out of the stables and stayed a good distance away from the burning building. All they had left was the word of Emperor Kirvam that the half orc would help with his ability to move through the mist untouched. Ana glanced over at Dusk. He seemed unfazed about what they’d just gone through.

“I suppose we sit back and watch. Hopefully, the rest of our party will make it. If not, especially if the half orc doesn’t make it, I still want to know about your friend and her skill at finding perpetually large sums of gold from the occasional quest. It’ll help me out in the long run.”

“She, would likely get you into a lot of trouble,” Dusk replied with a smile, “She’s energetic and enthusiastic, as long as you’re not stuck in the mud– her words, not mine. She said that to another person once who believed her life choices were, hmm, peculiar.”

He nodded. He probably seemed inhuman, smiling and being calm after the whole ordeal.

Ana smiled a little, despite the chaos, and began to pet her horse to calm him down, “What’s her name? Your friend, I mean.”

“Leif,” Dusk looked at the horse, “and your friend?”

“Eros,” she replied, and buried her face in his mane. The gentle creature had been her lover’s, and he was still going strong, even after their loss. “He’s gentle and unassuming. Fairly old, but still has an amazing amount of stamina.”

He nods in understanding, “Other creatures have a way of seeing the world that is their own unique perspective and people tend to forget they have souls as well.” He points towards the estate, “I believe there are - others.”

“Yes, they are unique in their own way,” Ana mused and gazed back at the burning estate. Whoever was in there, she prayed they got out alive.


 
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A collaboration with Kuno and ethicalslut

On first stepping through the heavy wooden doors of the great hall, the noise of the carousing beyond had been like a never ending roll of thunder. Now though, the maze of corridors had muffled the festivities to barely more than a whisper. Apart from a few people who had evidently decided to continue the celebrations in the privacy of their own chambers and the occasional scurrying of servant’s feet, the keep was quiet. At this distance the smell of mead and spiced meats had been replaced by the scents of dusty wood and beeswax polish. Calmness reigned here; as the wooden door of her chamber shut behind her, Silph breathed out. Apart from one slumbering form, she was alone. At last.

Ofneir would laugh if he saw her now. Swaddled in the lizard’s silks like some simpering maid. It was all they had to give her; the North’s furs were not intended for sweltering summers, and in the heat, the human had begrudgingly changed to something more appropriate. Though it still chafed at her nerves to wear something so...refined. Silph sat on the edge of her bed, taking off her shoes gingerly.

Kirvam’s summer estate was grandiose, lush, and frankly over-the-top - much like the entire Kaleshian Empire itself. She regretted accepting the senator’s invitation. It was not home; in fact, it was the exact opposite, and she longed for the rich culture of north Diane all the more. And the food. Gods, the food. She did not like lizard food. Their meat was too tough, too spicy - they could not cook meat like the men and women back home. The servants had seemed offended at her unwillingness to eat, perhaps a direct result of Kirvam’s insatiable need to please his guests. At the risk of looking rude, she’d stayed at the festivities longer than she should have. Far too long; it was only now that she’d returned to the safety of her room, another large and majestic space that did little to impress her. Exhaustion was plain on her face as she began to lay back on the bed, automatically reaching behind herself to undo the straps on her back--

--only to blink in surprise when she touched nothing but air. Ai, Akadum. That’s right; they’d taken Bonesmith, too. She began to relax, eyes drifting closed.

But not for long. Sometime after her eyes shut, she jolted awake as the acrid smell of smoke filled her nose. She sat up wild-eyed, taking in the sudden and abrupt sight of flames licking at the door. Her eyes widened.

“My God, fire! Fire!”

There was another in the room. Some stranger who Silph had not cared to meet or speak with before hand. But the current emergency rendered all reservations she had about the other woman moot. The human leapt from beneath her covers and dashed to the stranger’s bed, shaking her roughly by the shoulders.

“You! Wake up! Wake up now!”

There was no response from the sleeping woman. Despite being shaken they remained limp in their bed. Something held them in unconsciousness and alcohol was the likely suspect. A fug of the senator’s generous hospitality hung over the woman like a cloud; the bottle slowly seeping it contents into the woman’s bed was also a dead give away.

Silph was not to be outdone. She had roused many a drunkard with a rude slap, and would not hesitate to do so now. Shrugging a massive shoulder, Silph rolled the woman onto her back and leaned in, giving the sleeping woman a forceful strike across the cheek.

“Get. Up.”

The sound of the blow had barely faded away when Silph’s face was bathed in a soft red and green light as glowing eyes flew open. Barely a fraction of a moment later a hand shot out from the now awake stranger’s side and grabbed at the thumb of the hand that had just struck them. Pulling the digit back, they didn’t stop until Silph’s wrist was painfully twisted. For a few seconds the redhead's radiant gaze remained fixed on her assaulter, a look of confused anger on their face before the mind behind it seemed to catch up with the woman’s body and released the painful hold.

“Fuck off.” The multicoloured glow disappeared as the woman closed her eyes and rolled onto her side so that she faced the wall, her back to Silph. “Don’t… leave me alone.”

Silph studied the young woman for a moment, eyes filling with anger as she grasped the wrist of her left hand. She was not often hurt by another’s touch, but the girl’s grip made her feel pain and caught her off-guard in a way she wasn't used to. It discomfited her, and she responded in the way she did most things: willful ignorance.

“Fine! You burn alive, then, yah? Hmph.”

With a dismissive grunt, Silph moved away, rushing to grab her boots that sat near the edge of her bed.

“Whut?” The question was followed by the sound of rustling fabric and the reappearance of the faint multi coloured glow. “What are you talki-”

There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a mumbled curse as Silph’s words evidently teamed up with the acrid smell of smoke to penetrate the drunkard’s mind and deliver the news that the blacksmith had known almost before waking up. Silph however was no longer paying the other girl any mind. In fact, the look on her face seemed distant as she shoved on her boots hurriedly, coughing at the plumes of smoke curling underneath the door. Without warning, a wave of heat rolled over the blacksmith before receding again just as quickly with a heavy wooden thud and several muttered curses. A glance over Silph’s shoulder revealed her ever so slightly swaying room mate, fully dressed and rapidly blinking their eyes, standing by the door, one hand cradled in front of her neck.

“You know how to get outta here?” There was a pause as the woman sucked the fingers of the hand by her neck. “We need to be fast. Everything is burning.”

The other woman merely grunted in affirmation. At last dressed properly, with her few belongings slung over her shoulder, the large woman strode over to the bedroom door and flung it open, ignoring the burn of metal in her hand.

Kirvam’s entire estate was built like some sort of fortress. No windows in the rooms meant no alternative route; they would have to charge through the building inferno without any way of knowing where the fire had spread. They were at risk of getting caught in the blaze if they weren’t careful.

Fortunately, Silph was too stubborn to die. Covering her nose and mouth with a silk cloth, she marched forward into the blazing hallways, setting off in the direction of the banquet hall. She had barely passed two doorways when the far more lightly built figure of her companion loped past in the smoke filled darkness. The woman smelled like they’d drunk so much alcohol that by all rights her sweat should be catching aflame and yet somehow she almost danced down the corridor. When a pile of rubble hidden by smoke or gout of flame interrupted her path the woman seemed to flow around it like water passing a rock, and soon she began to disappear into the smoke ahead of Silph.

It wasn’t until the blacksmith was approaching the junction between a couple of corridors that she saw her strange roommate again. The auburn haired woman was down on her hands and knees gasping for air in between bouts of dry hacking coughs.

“Can’t… go… that way” A slender arm pointed down one of the corridors, ragged breathes making it shake slightly. “There’s no… just smoke.”

Cerulean eyes panned towards the direction the redhead pointed, before coming to rest again on the hunched over woman, unreadable. Despite her furs and comparably slower gait, the Diane woman seemed wholly unaffected by their hellish surroundings. She was used to the flames of the forge, plumes of smoke hanging in wisps around her as she worked. One did not tolerate it so much as they adapted to it. One just had to cover well, and keep a measured pace...

Something this one with her did not seem to get. Staring down at the other woman with nothing but disdain, Silph clicked her tongue impatiently.

“You...Your name is…”

“Re-” The half formed word was lost as an explosion of rasping coughs erupted from the woman’s throat and they had to take several shaky breaths before they were able to speak again. “Reva.”

“Well, whoever you are,” The blonde asserted rather ignorantly. She slipped a heavy hand around Reva’s arm and hefted her up in one fluid motion. “You move too fast through; you will get smoke in your lungs, yah? Come-” She jerked her head towards the other corridor, the one leading towards the banquet hall - her initial goal. “We go this way.”

Not caring to wait for input from her companion, Silph hoisted the other woman up and against her side, all but carrying her as she continued her dogged march down the hallways. It was difficult to get her bearings as they moved along. Whoever had lit the castle’s flames had been thorough. The fire had crawled its way along the walls, decimating every fine piece of furniture, glassware, and art that stood in its path. Only the ornate stone engravings on the pillars remained unmarked; Silph used those as her waypoints as she kept her head low, pausing only to bring her and her hapless, wheezing quarry over an overturned armoire.

Someone had closed the doors to the banquet hall. With her free hand, Silph grasped the red hot knob and tore the door open, grimacing as a wave of heat blasted her in the face. As her vision adjusted to the brilliant displays of orange and red, her eyes widened, taking in the scene before her.

“Ai, Gods…”



Kirvam Ozirious stood at the front of the hall exactly like he had earlier that night. Though the flames swirled and crackled around him, there was still a sharp confidence to his posture and the fire around him could only brighten his already intense red scale. He wore no armor, his nightgown torn, burned black and bloodied. It was not his blood that stained the white silk however--but instead the half dozen assassins’ lying limp on the floor.

As the door swung open he assumed a defensive pose, ready to withstand whatever might come, but was surprised to see allies instead of foes. It was clear when he called out to them that despite tonight's treacherous turn of events, he had no intention of coming off shaken or even bothered.

"It's about time I ran into someone who hasn't fallen so shamefully to these pathetic excuses of assassins." He mused lightly, when suddenly a groan from a body at his feet interrupted his thought. With no more than an annoyed look, he slashed a curve along the man’s neck and beckoned for his two new allies to join him.

With one graceful wave of the senator’s hand, the fire in the room split a path for Reva and Silph to take towards him. A perk of a man whose bloodline was derived from a red dragon. "Come quick you two. We must make haste to the armory in case they've more capable soldiers than this filth."

As the flames parted, Reva began to wriggle and squirm against her rescuer’s iron grip. The auburn haired woman had all but stopped wheezing and her strange eyes seemed to be fixed on the body at the senators feet. After a few moments of not making any progress in her bid for freedom there was a gentle tap on Silph’s shoulder. Immediately, the hold loosened.

Released from the blacksmith’s grip, Reva began to make her way along the path towards Kirvam. Silph’s few words of advice having apparently sunk in, she moved slowly and carefully, using her arms to shield her face from the heat. All the while though her eyes stayed locked on the body and as she approached where the senator stood Reva knelt down. Holding one hand out to shield herself from the spraying blood, the flame haired woman twisted the assassins head towards her. After staring briefly and impassionately at recently stilled face she turned her attention to the fallen warriors robes, grabbing at a stretch of patterned cloth that lined the garments neck. For a few moments the woman held the stained and smoldering fabric, her face a mask of confusion, until something else caught her eye.

“Who?” Reva ripped a strange pendant from around the fallen warrior’s neck before standing up and holding her blood drenched prize out towards the red scaled senator.

“Why?”

With one brow ridge raised, Kirvam took the amulet and studied it for a moment. Its origin was without a doubt, the pendant formerly a golden sun now tinted black and red by soot and blood.

“A curious trinket--and one that raises far too many questions.” Kirvam spoke, urgency growing in his graveled tone. “Come quickly. If for some divine forsaken reason we’re being besieged by a group as enigmatic as the Order of the Morning… well, the loss of my fields and my summer home are just the start.”

He spun on his heels and effortlessly formed a new path through the fire, the senator taking up an unforgiving pace as he led the way to the armory. With Kirvam waving away the smoke and fire that choked the corridors before them, the trio moved quickly through the estate.

As they approached the armory, the red lizard paused and raised a hand to signal the two warriors close behind him to listen. The sounds were hard to detect amidst all the roaring flames and groaning wood but they were unmistakable.

Laughter. Banter. Metal clanging against the stone floor. Order or not, it was clear that some of them were not beyond looting the estate. With a twitch of annoyance in his brow, Kirvam’s hand extended towards a nearby flame and with grace, he drew it to his blade and turned to his companions. He paused, realizing he never asked either of them for their names, and quickly decided it mattered not.

“Are you two prepared for a fight?” Kirvam asked calmly, glancing back at the doorway cautiously before continuing. “I’m sure I can hold their attention long enough for you two to arm yourselves.”

The sound of cracking knuckles was the only answer from Reva as her brilliant gaze swung from the Senator to Silph and then finally, the door.

Silph followed the red-head’s gaze, brows furrowed. “Armed or not, they die tonight.”

Somewhere in the armory lay the armor Silph herself had painstakingly made, the hammer she had spent so many hours honing, the swords she had done much to sharpen. The thought of some filthy bandit simply coming along and claiming her things for themselves - for free - incensed her, and she surged forward, kicking away a burning chair that propped open the door.

It caught the looters off-guard. The closest one to her spun around, mouth agape, his hands grasping--

Ai, Akadum! My hammer! Her face grew dark with fury.

“You--” The rat-faced man spat out. Before the bastard could so much as say another word, the wind was knocked from him as the blonde slammed against him, wrapping her arms around his back with a crushing grip. With a bellow, she lifted up, bending backwards and smashing the man head-down onto the marble floor. It did the trick; Bonesmith came loose from the unconscious man’s hands easily, and she snatched it away.

As she was recovering her balance, Silph felt a gust of air brush past her followed by the appearance of Reva at the edge of her vision. The red head sprinted towards one of the stunned looters. With one hand she caught a sword arm that had been swung too late, using the momentum to push the limb behind it’s owners back, while an elbow found its target in the man’s temple. As her target buckled under the assault, Reva pulled the man’s sword arm straight up behind his back and used her other arm to force his head down onto a rapidly rising knee. There was a stomach churning crunch and the man went limp.

Before she could disentangle herself from the unconscious assasin something smacked into Reva’s throat, lifting her bodily into the air. Feet swinging wildly through thin air and face screwed up from the pain, Reva tried to break the grip around her neck with blind jabs at the arms holding her. This only resulted in her being slammed into a wall, the hard stones acting to increase the pressure of the grip squeezing the life the flame haired woman. Slowly Reva struggles died to nothing, all her energy apparently focused on sucking any amount of air into her lungs.

“Look upon me sinner. Know this is a righteous death.”

There was a slight shift as one burly hand released its grip on Reva’s neck before a thumb prised open one of her eyes, a soft green light illuminating the goon’s smirking face.

“YOU! Fuc-” Reva’s would be executioner recoiled at the sight and the moment of surprise gave the half strangled woman the opening she had been hunting for. This time a fist to the elbow of the arm that still held her buckled the limb and broke the grip. Desperately sucking down air, Reva didn’t give the assassin time to recover, using the wall to launch herself at the man who had nearly strangled her.

In the foreground, Silph could be seen facing off against another of the men, a large brute who somehow managed to dwarf her in size. The Northerner was no seasoned warrior; a relentless blacksmith, yes, but no knight. Her grip tightened on her hammer as she used it to block blow after blow, gritting her teeth as each forceful strike managed to push her back. Again the man came, swinging his sword down at Silph with startling speed. She moved away a second too late; she hissed as the edge of his blade cut into her exposed shoulder.

“Not as fast as the other one, are ya?” The man sneered. Silph cut her eyes at him, ignoring the blood running down her skin. “Don’t worry. I’ll make this quick for you.”

Whatever lunge, grapple, or maneuver the man planned was cut short by a ray of searing fire shot just over Silph’s newly torn wound. The man went crashing into the rack of armor behind him, screaming out all sorts of curses as the flames burned deeper and deeper into his chest.

The senator then appeared at Silph’s side, smoke rising from scaled fingers that still crackled ever so lightly with magic. Whatever pleasantly surprised expression he held at seeing his companions charge before him was replaced with an unimpressed sneer in the presence of their attackers.

“Let us finish up here and get on with our escape.” He sighed as if more annoyed with the fact that they were fighting for their lives than worried. Without warning or permission he turned to Silph and brought a scaled talon to her hammer, the head of her signature weapon suddenly enveloped in a flame not unlike his scimitar.

“A gift for your bravery.” He winked before charging at one of two men left and locking him in one on one combat. Or so the looter thought anyways. As the ruffian made to swing their sword at the senator, an arm appeared around their throat. In one sudden moment they toppled backward to the floor, revealing for a brief moment Reva, her face splattered with bright red blood. Falling on top of the looter she drove the heel of her hand into center of their face before gripping the side of their head, lifting it into the air and then smashing it against the floor over and over until her victim stopped struggling. For good measure Reva twisted the man’s neck until a terminal crack reverberated around the room.

Kirvam watched the sight with an expression that landed somewhere between surprised and amused. “Well I suppose that works too.”

The last man standing suddenly grew a sense of self-preservation as he watched the trio trounce his friends. Gulping, he began to back away from the battle, turning to slip away down the burning hall--

--only to see impending death in the form of a flaming hammer. There was the whumph of metal hitting bone, then a light thud as his body fell to the ground. Silph did not spare him a second glance as she approached the other two, her eyes alight with adrenaline, battle furor, and...fear?

“We must go now. No more wasting time fighting.” She pursed her lips at the sight of Reva's bloodied face, but said nothing about it; a more pressing issue had taken her attention. Her eyes flickered from the hammer in her hands to the lizard, nervousness plain on her face.

“Get rid of these flames,” She barked at Kirvam, shaking Bonesmith emphatically. Sweat had begun to bead at her temple. “This magic is no good. This hammer is fine without it.”

“Very well.” Kirvam nodded, amusement playing on his expression at her reaction. With a simple snap of a finger the flames dissipated and the senator turned towards the nearby wall. It took him only a moment to draw the nearby flames into a concentrated molten orb and blast an opening to the courtyard he knew would be on the other side.

“You don’t reach a position like mine without being prepared for everyth--” Kirvam began, his body interrupting him as a wave of weakness washed over him. It had been awhile since he had the need to cast at this frequency and the fatigue of his magic was setting in. “Come. There’s a button alongside the fountain. We need only press it and we will be safe.”

The Northerner stayed quiet. She’d instinctively grabbed the senator’s elbow lest he fainted, and now her eyes drew up to his own, iron resolve clear on her face.

“We will jump down. I will help you.” Her tone left no room for argument. “Reva?”

From behind the senator came the sound of tearing fabric. Reva, apparently oblivious to the new plan, was feverishly tearing at the robes of one of the dead men, revealing a network of strange tattoos similar to bloody pendant that now hung from her belt. The woman paused, staring at the markings before moving over to the nearest dressed corpse, tearing at it’s clothes with equal fervour.

Her actions were rudely interrupted as Silph’s hand seized on the back of her outer garments. Ignoring any and all protestations, the blonde, with her two companions in tow, went for the opening in the wall. There was a rush of cool, fresh air as Silph leapt the short distance down to the courtyard; then, just as quickly as they’d drawn breath, a haze of smoke filled the air as she set Kirvam and Reva down. Coughing, Silph turned her gaze about the courtyard, blinking at the destruction and chaos. She was mistaken before; it was not just their part of the mansion that burned. The entire estate was alit in flames. Their attackers had gone to great lengths to try and kill them all.

And more could appear at any moment to finish the job. A sense of urgency increasing her speed, Silph ignored the pain in her injured shoulder and moved onwards, approaching the massive fountain in the centre of the courtyard.​

 
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OZZTARAK CRANE and JAREK CASIMIR - A HALF-ORC AND HIS GUARDSMAN

Well it was certainly a step up from the wagon at the very least. Ozztarak Crane paced back and forth along the length of the luscious silk bed the senator had so gracefully offered. Now the chain attached to his ankle which was in turn attached to the bedpost rattled with each step of course… but Ozz was doing his best to not let it worsen his mood.

It wasn’t like this was his first time being chained to a bed anyways.

Oh but his times in the brothels of Dorothea seemed so long ago now. Not only was the half orc a whole continent away but he was also sitting pretty right at the center of all this damnable fog business. You see, Ozztarak has always thought of himself as a simple man. He enjoyed ale, the company of others, and making sure his mother was taken care of. He was most certainly not some pariah or godsend meant to lead the entirety of Talvien to salvation.

And yet... there he was, reeling from a night of being paraded around the banquet hall as the answer to the mist. The thought was enough to send a shudder down Ozz’s spine. It was enough for him to admit to himself that keeping him chained down and unable to make a run for it was a smart move.

With a sigh and hoping for a distraction from such thoughts, Ozz turned to the door knowing that Jarek was on guard shift tonight. The opposite to his captain, Jarek was perhaps the only human in the caravan that treated him like an actual person and not just some filthy crossbreed. A rarity among his race in Ozz’s opinion--not to mention easy on the eyes too.

“Paladin Handsome! Care to keep this half-orc from dying of boredom?” He called out with a grin, his voice no doubt muffled by the wood and steel door between them.

Jarek Casimir, as was his practice, rode up and down along the entire length of the journey without complaint . He took his duties as guardian very seriously, as he did most things to be honest. If there was a way to do something right he would generally find a way to make right even harder or almost impossible before he was happy with his personal efforts.

Most of the trip had been quiet, aside for the occasional bickering between people and complaints about the conditions, but he was well used to such simpering. They had arrived at the Senator’s estate without incident and settled quickly into a routine of rounds of guard duty and then rest. He wasn’t one for resting, but he was a man who obeyed his orders and did as he was told, most of the time. He did not ever compromise his own conscience for any man or authority, and most understood that and dared not make such requests of him. He made sure to pray to Octavius before he donned his uniform for the night. It was his turn to walk the halls of the lizard senator’s estate. He relieved the man who had the shift before him and then began his watch.

He didn’t make one turn of the hall before he heard a muffled voice and lifted his eyes heavenward and sent up a swift prayer to Octavius for patience and strength, but a slight grin curled the corner of his lips. He stood tall and straight to look through the small opening in the heavy door, “You spoke Ozz?” he queried, “Are you indeed dying?” he asked with some amusement, though such a state was rare for the man. His black hair was free and perfectly in place in spite of its thickness and slight natural curl. He lifted a finger then, “And...I believe I have mentioned before that I am no longer a paladin...though I am not displeased to be taken for one.” To him that was a compliment, since they lived lives that exemplified discipline and devotion, two things he valued highly.

Okay… so... I’m not dying but I am most definitely lonel-” Ozz began before being interrupted by a fireball crashing through the wall. The bulk of the fiery orb luckily decimating the room next door as opposed to Ozz’s. The impact was more than enough to knock the half blood off his feet however.

Jarek heard the fireball before he saw it. “Are you injured Ozz?” he called through the door not unable to see him. His sword lifted and he began slicing at the door to the next room that had been hit, slashing away burning wood with every wave. He stepped into that room, and grabbing a thick tapestry from the wall began to smother the flames as fast as he could, not realizing he was totally unharmed by the lapping flames all around him. He was still, now waiting for a second volley and hoping he could see it coming and intercept it somehow.

He heard nothing so he moved back into the hall and to the door, “Ozz...be you unharmed?” he asked as he kept his sword at the ready in case he was suddenly attacked.

A mess in more ways than one, the half orc responded with a groan loud enough to confirm that he was at the very least alive. He thought to say something witty but he had no time before the next round of fire came. Ozz barely managed to get up in time and slam himself through the door before the fireball came crashing through the wall, the half orc dragging his bed by the ankle as he fell to another heap on the floor in front of Jarek.

“For the love of Sybil what the fuck is going on now?” He breathed exasperatedly, taking a moment to catch his breath before turning to the familiar guard. He nodded towards the chain still wrapped firmly around his ankle. “A little help here?”

Jarek’s eyes took in the room but he ignored the fire this time and instead raised his sword high over his head and forcefully sliced down onto the chain. The links though sturdy were no match for the sword he’d forged himself from his own combination of metals. He reached down and grabbed Ozz’s forearm, “Are you able to stand?” he asked as he looked down at him, totally prepared to heft the man to his shoulder and carry him out if the need arose.

“As much as the thought of you carrying me out of this fire like a princess appeals to me, I’ll manage.” Ozz mused rather lightly, feeling eager to experience unhindered movement even if it was only because someone was raising hellfire on the estate. In a matter very typical of him, the half orc made no attempt to address the actual seriousness of the situation as he came to his feet and dusted all of the soot off of his clothes. “You don’t happen to know if this is some kind of lizard thing right? Like fireworks just uh… deadlier?”

Jarek flashed him a look as he helped him up and watched him brush dust off his clothes as if two rooms had not been destroyed mere seconds ago, “When did I offer to carry you in such a manner?” he asked deadly serious, “I had a sand bag hold in mind to be precise.”

He wrapped long fingers around Ozz’s elbow and ushered him up the hall to the guard station where he could have a better vantage point. “You believe the lizards to be engaged in civil unrest?” he asked once they were there, having taken that long to think of how he wanted to reply to the half-orc’s question. “I am more interested in knowing how they knew what rooms to target and why they are seeking your life.” he turned from the sight before him and retraced his steps once again taking hold of Ozz’s arm, “We are no longer safe here.” he announced as he moved through the halls, his long legs eating up the distance with deceptive speed since he was walking and not running.

“I know next to nothing about the lizards other than they’re pompous and rich.” Ozz admitted while he was led by the guardsman. All around them the flames seemed to spread across the manor at a worrying pace and Ozz--as lackadaisical as he was--could not ignore the choking smoke beginning to settle upon them.

“So we’re being attacked, most of the estate on bloody fire, what’s the plan big guy?” He asked.

Jarek looked at the man with steel in his eyes, “We were ordered to report to the courtyard in an emergency but that seems like suicide and I am not so inclined.” He kept moving toward the barracks where the Dorothian captain of the guard was hopefully strategizing. “I prefer a strategic vantage point.” He was moving fast and not giving Ozz much time to catch his breath. There was too much smoke and they needed out of there. He was regulating his own breathing to minimize his intake but his throat was beginning to burn a bit.

They entered the makeshift barracks without knocking. Emergencies were a time for a breech of etiquette in his estimation. He looked around and saw no one. So much for the captain of the guard being a man of intellect. He knew his thoughts were ungenerous but he wasn’t in a mood to be otherwise. He moved to the only window in the space and looked out at the courtyard, hoping he wasn’t about to witness the massacre of all the guards that were present in the estate.

Instead, he was greeted by the sight of the senator and two adventurers approaching the fountain at the center, blazes lighting the night sky above them. Ozz without thinking of the possible repercussions shouted out Kirvam’s name, the red lizard unable to hear the calls of the crossbreed over all the splintering wood and shambling walls.

“Shit… well, however suicidal it might be we should probably get down there.” Ozz suggested, leaning away from the window and turning to the guardsman once more. He shrugged. “Safety in numbers or whatever the hell they say.”

Jarek was shocked to see only three approaching the fountain. What the hell was happening? This seemed to him impossible. What happened to all the guards? He looked over at Oz and lines furrowed his handsome brow making him appear much older and if possible a bit more stern. “There do not appear to be many numbers there either, but we have precious little other choice.”

He honestly hated situations like this where he felt trapped into a course of action that repulsed his sense of self-preservation and set off every internal alarm he possessed. Still, he needed answers and that red lizard was likely the only source of them. He looked conflicted though about Ozz, but in the end he grabbed a sturdy looking weapon that had been left behind, “Can you wield a longsword?”

“I can’t say I’m particularly practiced but I’ll manage.” Ozz nodded before taking the weapon in hand

Jarek felt a tiny curl form on his lips in spite of the grim situation they found themselves in, “Today would be a good day to excel your previous skill level.”

With the heat constantly wrapping against his skin as motivation, it was the half orc who took the lead this time. With the guardsman at his side Ozz moved out of the barracks and turned in the direction he could only hope would lead to the central garden. It brought them through a series of hallways, the flames surrounding the estate lashing at their heels with each step.

It was only when they could see a group just further along the hall did they pause. It was the guard captain, Ambrose Finnick, the cruelest of the humans who had brought Ozz to the Empire. Standing casually among the flames and speaking to mysterious hooded figures, the older, red faced man painted a picture that undeniably pointed to betrayal.

When Jarek saw the captain he grabbed Ozz and pulled him down a side hall, “That traitor!” he seethed. They waited a moment for the sound of the chatter to dissipate, unable to truly discern what they were discussing. Minutes passed and when Jarek looked out again only the captain remained. Ah, but Octavius was with him this night. He glanced over his shoulder at Ozz.

“He is alone.” Was all Jarek said before he stepped out into the hall. With even long strides he walked through the fire not feeling a single bit of its heat, his steady unnerving gaze locked on the captain. When he was meer feet away his sword raised, “Speak your last words traitor.”

The night was quickly devolving into a mess Ozz concluded, refraining from following Jarek into the opening directly. Instead Ozz chose to watch the situation from afar, feeling the familiar rhythm of magic swirl between his fingers in preparation.

Though the estate was crumbling all around them, the guard captain showed little more than annoyance at the appearance of Jarek however. His hand found the hilt of his blade and a nasty sneer found form in his face.

“You know nothing of which you speak, guardsman.” Ambrose responded, his face becoming tight, disciplinary and impeccably cruel. “Now quit with this nonsense and report. You were all told to gather in the courtyard, I do hope you’re simply coming from there to tell me that everyone worth a damn in this scaled bastard’s estate has gathered.”

Jarek never looked away but only advanced, “Odd last words.” he commented and slashed down in a powerful arc at the man’s shoulder in an attempt to make him incapable of drawing the sword where his hand rested on the hilt.

The guard captain cried out in pain as he staggered backwards, the older man falling to his knee and clutching the newly opened wound. He cursed under his breath, crimson creeping between his grip. His following movement was subtle, a hand shifting towards his boot. Ozz had seen this maneuver far too many times in a tavern brawl to be caught off guard now.

The half-orc stepped into the clearing and from his hand a ray of blue lightning shot forth. It did not hit the guard captain however, but instead it landed on Jarek, the electricity becoming a barrier wrapped around his skin. When the captain swung his shortblade into the spell, it discharged, sending him on to his back stunned.

“That felt good.” Ozz admitted with amusement, electricity still crackling between his fingers as he jumped happily over the flames in order to join Jarek at his side once more. He threw his guardsman a wink. “I got your back Paladin Handsome.”

Jarek felt the barrier but ignored it, watching the captain warily, but at seeing him get knocked onto his back he glanced at Ozz and nodded, “So I see, my thanks.” And then he moved and kicked the man’s shortblade away from him before touching the tip of his sword to the captain’s chest as he knelt, “Have you better last words this time?”

His face was a mask of impassive stone, giving away not one iota of what he might be thinking or planning. He merely waited and watched. One wrong twitch and the man would find that sword easily sliding through his chest to end his life, but Jarek felt men deserved a chance to confess their crimes and die with honor. So he waited, giving this man that chance though he held little hope such a thing would occur from the lips of an obvious traitor.

“You’re nothing.” The man growled as he spat in Jarek’s face. He seemed more furious than terrified despite how closely he stood to death. When his gaze shifted to Ozz who stood upright it only worsened and suddenly he seemed more insane than despicable. When he spoke again it was in a frenzied craze.

“And that thing is an abomination! It must be purged! It must be-”

Jarek closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to Octavius as he jerked down on the handle of the sword. It plunged through him and into the stone floor beneath without much resistance. As he stood the blade was jerked upward and out before he lifted it and grabbed a cloth from his vest to wipe it before sliding it into the sheath at his hip.

Turning he gave a quick jerk of his head toward the direction they had been travelling in. At the end of the hall stood two grand doors that signaled that they were just one threshold away from the other survivors. “The courtyard.” Was all Jarek said and then proceeded to move in that direction.

“Let us hope we find friendlier folk outside.”​
 
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TALES of TALVIEN: The Maddening Mist

When the guardsman and the half-orc stepped out into the courtyard the surprise that found Kirvam’s face only lasted for a second before shifting into practiced neutrality. His estate was in flames but at the very least his ambitions were not. It would not be easy, but there were some upsides to having Ozztarak travel with a smaller company.

“Well thank Erdaleh herself that at least one of the guards decided to do his job tonight. Well done my good man, well done indeed.” He noted, sharp teeth on display as he cracked a smile. His disposition towards Ozztarak was considerably less appreciative. “Had the crossbreed died in this attack it would’ve proved difficult carting his corpse through the fog as opposed to simply walking through it with him.”

"Come. We cannot afford to waste anymore time." Without giving Ozz or Jarek a chance to reply, Kirvam spun on his heel and stepped over and into the waters of the fountain, his nightgown flattening against his scales as he strode to the center. Without a flinch he let the water running through the main pillar pour over him, the lizard bending down to press a hidden button at the base. Immediately the water began to drain, and the senator quickly stepped out in turn. Soon the entirety of the fountain itself began to shift, slowly revealing an underground passage to the sound of groaning stone underneath it. Kirvam said nothing at the reveal, he only motioned for them to follow.

The lizard senator led the five of them with a small flame dancing on a single talon, the air was heavy with dust and it was clear that the tunnel had gone for some time without use. Still, it was much cooler and considerably less deadly than the estate that was burning to the ground above them. For a time they walked through damp darkness, and while some may have spoken or introduced themselves, Kirvam was content to be silent. Soon enough a pair of stairs came to view and the senator finally spoke up.

"It seems we've made it." He sighed--whether it was sadness at the loss of his home or at relief of finally making out alive, it was impossible to tell. It was clear as the doors at the top swung open though that they had survived. For now anyways. The tunnel had taken them just outside the stables and brought two more survivors into their ranks, Kirvam recognizing them immediately and wasting no time to pull them into the growing party.

The vineyards surrounding the estate were beginning to burn, the night sky above all of them painted warmer and warmer with each second that passed. In the foreground was Kirvam's estate finally crumbling underneath the flames, the foundations and walls roaring loudly as it crumbled into itself. It was the perfect time for an address and though the senator had no words planned, with the utmost confidence he was sure he'd manage.

Gathering the survivors he stood in front of them, maw high and his stance strong.

"And here we are, still standing." The senator grinned. "Without a doubt things have become more complicated but our expedition, our mission remains alive so long as the few of us are breathing. Tonight was just the first ordeal along our path and you all overcame with bravery and ability that will be sorely needed in the days to come. The mist isn't stopping anytime soon and if the Order of the Morning wishes that so, they too will be destroyed alongside it."

"But that of course will be in due time, for now I must head back to Cadeira and rally the Empress to our side. To hear one of her favorite senators was attacked by those stuffy followers of L'étoile--oh I quite look forward to seeing the ripple of her influence root those scum out from their temples and have them beheaded." Kirvam growled, anger and anticipation alike in his tone. "As for you six, your destination remains the same. You all must make it deep into halfling territory. It 'how' that is up in the air."

"Whatever caravans, supplies and men I had ready to ride alongside you all have been lost to the flames. You call yourself adventurers, this is where you show how good you are at improvising. Survive how you will, let people know that we're making a stand against the mist, make it to Nadaever and back to tell us of what you saw. You six are Talvien's only hope, Erdaleh help us all."

With a smile and a breath, the speech seemed to conclude and for the first time during the whole evening Kirvam let the weariness show in his face, in his posture. Still, with the shake of his head he seemed to rally himself before saying his farewells. "I must be off immediately I'm afraid. If the Order reaches the Empress before I can it would be gravely bad for all of us."

"Do remember that there are many ways to travel east, try not to waste too much time deciding among yourselves." Kirvam winked, spinning on his heel and speaking out to the adventures as he almost leisurely walked away. "I hear southern Dorothea is just wonderful this time of year by the way! Farewell!"​

So our band of adventurers has finally gathered! The estate and all our support has been razed to the ground. Everything is on the line and the only resources we have right now is each other. Have your characters react freely, this isn't about to be an easy journey! With that said this is our very first big group decision.

Whichever route you guys decide to take will not only affect the NPCs that we come across/travel with but also the state of races and nations since our characters will (one way or another) have to deal with the issues of the areas we pass through. In the same vein of thinking expect the nations and people we don't travel through to worsen without our help.

So our characters can either:

1.] Take the northern route through the Empire -> Pass through Southern Dorothea -> Journey through the Willows

2.] Take a southern route through the Empire
-> Trek through the Iron Hills

...and both routes have roughly the same amount of content even though #2 is only two different locations as opposed to three!

This round will be individual posts! No posting order, just wait a post or two before you post again! Group decisions like this will require a lot of discussion both OOC and IC as well!​
 
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With the senator walking away from the group, Reva looked at the rest of the group for a few moments, golden pendent spinning in her hand, before jogging after the retreating lizard. What lands she and her companions might travel through didn't matter a damn to the redhead. Ever since she had woken up on that fishing boat seven moons ago, Reva had only ever had two links to her old life: the strange flag she been tangled in that was right now securely rolled up in a pouch on her belt and the fact that someone had paid killers to find her. Tonight was a third.

The robes the assassins wore, the sigil in her hand, even the smell of flame and smoke, somehow they all spoke to her. It felt familiar and at the same time entirely strange. And the brute that had tried to strangle her, had he recognised her. At the time there had been no time to think but now Reva wished they weren't dead. She didn’t feel any guilt for their demise but with them had gone the chance to get answers. She wasn’t going to let the senator leave without giving her at least some.

“Hey. The Order of the Morning,” Reva spoke slowly as she tapped the senator on the shoulder, testing how the words felt in her mouth. “What is it? Why would they do this?”

If Kirvam was surprised to see he had been followed he did not show it. The lizard only gave her a parting glance over his shoulder and a small huff of his breath. He seemed to ponder for a moment how much to tell.

“The Order follows L'étoile. I’m sure you’ve heard of her at least once all these years. She’s the Morning Star, the Arch-Angel. An overblown, hypocritical god whose followers are all a bunch of holier-than-thou degenerates.” He smirked. “They don’t get out much, and when they do its to bring down holy fire.”

The senator turned back to her as he continued to walk forward. “As you well know.”

As the senator withdrew once more, Reva was left standing in the lizard's dust as she tried to digest the new information, her mouth moving wordlessly. If what the Order of the Morning was everything the Senator had said they were, if they were prepared to murder a keep full of people, were they the ones who had sent the men after her all those moons ago. Had she known them before? Was that why this evening felt so familiar. Had she lived through something like this before?​

 
Jarek looked at Kirvam and accepted his comment without any reaction outwardly. he'd done his job but he didn't feel as if he'd done it particularly well, or more people would be standing with them. Still, even as that thought filled his mind, he had protected his primary charge, and in that aspect of his assigned duties he felt satisfied. Luckily the lizard's comment hadn't been made with the expectation of a reply, saving him the tiresome duty of creating one.

He frowned at the way the Lizard addressed Ozz as if her were not even worthy of having a name. Such arrogance and conceit sickened in in ways that he had never found adequate words to describe. Still this was his home and he knew a safe way to exit, so he followed making sure Ozz was in front of him, in case danger followed. Luckily the trip through the small tunnel was not a long one, as the damp moldy smell was assaulting his senses and stinging his already raw throat.

Speeches tended to irritate him but he managed to look interested, he hoped. Taking his leave immediately after tasking six people without provisions, transportation or funds with being creative almost got the lizard a dagger to the back. The glower he leveled at the spot he was aiming for in his mind had to have felt hot on the lizard's back. "Useless politician." was all he said before looking around the group with whom he'd been left to complete this suicide mission. His eyes settled on each member studying them closely before moving to the next, though he made no comment on his personal thoughts as he did this. They'd come to realize with time that he had little to say to those he did not know, and even less to those he did not respect. At this point only Ozz had earned either, and so he waited to hear their words and add to his visual assessments.
 
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Then these are the survivors? Dusk only acknowledges them with a silent nod at first, in order to listen to the lizard aristocrat. Head East.

So far it didn’t seem the group hobbled together with what felt like the ruins of the crumbling, burned estate, had much of an idea of what direction to go. He himself admitted he didn’t know what was the better option. Though wandering through the Empire to Dorothea felt like they were asking for a lot of turning heads.

“While I will go with the majority vote,” he speaks up, “I do suggest that, considering our company.” he only cautiously eyes the half Orc and Ana, “that perhaps making enemies out of those that aren’t our enemies is the best idea. I believe we should head for the Iron Hills, but I will not push if others do not agree with the idea.”

Dusk nods slowly. It is all he can offer. He and others would be considered to some as bad company. Oh. Where are his manners.

“Apologies for speaking without introducing myself,” he adds quickly, noting that he already sounds awkward, after making the declaration that he had, “I am Dusk. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he gives a half polite bow.

He doesn’t know how much bowing and politeness is socially acceptable, though he hopes it is enough to not put others on edge.
 


Ana was glad that she and Dusk were not the only survivors, however, the fact that two of them were human made her a little more than cynical of the lizard’s reasons for their mission. To be paired off with a half-orc, aasimar, and tiefling was more than enough. Ana gripped the pommel of her sword as Kirvam spoke; his grin made her feel sick.

Once Kirvam said his farewells and the others spoke up, Ana joined in, straight and to the point.

“Ana’Riel,” she spoke, “I say the Iron Hills as well. It’s quick and more efficient than heading through southern Dorothea. We’ll get heads turning if we go through Dorothea and we’re not here to rile up anyone. We’re simply on a mission to retrieve information and return to Nadaever. It’s not terribly hard, if we all know what we’re doing and we keep our chins up.”

There was no time to be wasted, especially not in this situation. She’d much prefer to stay away from the humans, lest she wanted this new band of adventurers finding out who she really was on the other side of the Khalesian Empire. She wasn’t exactly welcome in Dorothea, much less Diane or any other human-controlled environment. She preferred to keep her secret under wraps, at least for now, unless anyone found out later on somehow.

The exposure of her secrets were a different story entirely though.
 
SILPH TANNER



Silph did not know what she had been expecting of their adventure. Certainly a more dignified start, though that hope had long since burned up in flames along with Kirvam’s estate. Some sort of clarity on the attack would have been good, though that too went largely unanswered. As for the rest of her expectations...Silph’s attentions panned to the senator, eyes cold as they were blue.

The lizard’s words ended up amounting to nothing more than glorified horse shit. At his admission that he had no aid to give them, the Diane woman effectively tuned him out. It was as if the gods were having a cruel laugh at their expense. No supplies, no money, no sense of direction -- and a party so poorly mismatched that she was convinced her eyes were playing tricks on her. It was, by and large, the oddest assortment of people that she had ever seen in her life. She stared unintentionally at one individual who had blue, radiant skin that shone under the moonlight like crystals, before her gaze pulled away at the sight of their eyes, black as a demon’s heart.

Gods. A good start was all she’d wanted. Just a good start.

There was a dull throb on her right side. The wound on her shoulder had long since slowed in its bleeding, covering her skin in a rusted red. Wrapping her hand in a cloth square, Silph applied pressure to it. The would-be thief had cut her dominant arm, the bastard; she envisioned a long period of painful smithing, and inwardly she sighed.

There was a discussion going on of where to go next, and her ears perked up as the elf Ana’Riel chimed in. Iron Hills. Silph fought to keep from frowning. If the elf woman thought the dwarves would be any more receptive to her and the demon’s presence, she was sorely mistaken.

“I don’t agree,” Silph said slowly, uttering the three words that had come to define her. “We must go through South Dorothea. They will have better equipment and horses there, suitable for the long journey. Lizard shops do not compare. Besides...” A brow raised as she threw a look towards her pointy-eared associates.


“You will turn heads no matter where we go. Especially in Iron Hills.”
 
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TALES of TALVIEN: The Maddening Mist

Uncharacteristically so, Ozztarak had remained silent throughout the tunnel, the speech, and the discussions. It was the first time all night that he seemed an appropriate amount of serious; or at least the first time all night that he hadn't been covering up his fatigue with quips and one liners. Still, it was clear now more than ever that there was no other option but to press forward... and that thought weighed heavily upon the half orc more than he cared to admit.

"The last thing I want to be is in charge of this little ragtag band of ours but there's someone I need to see in Dorothea." Ozz interjected, his grey eyes looking over each member of the party to judge their initial reaction before continuing. "And I'm afraid it's important enough for me to shamelessly use the 'I'm the one you guys need to keep alive' card."

"So let's head north shall we?"
He then said with a grin, seeming to return to his cheeky self the moment attention turned to him. Though he had phrased his words as a question, Ozz quickly made it clear that it was anything but as he began to walk. The group had little choice else but to follow him and together, one way or another, they left the silhouette of Kirvam's burning estate behind them.

The party walked well into the morning, the sky shifting from purple, to orange, to blue above them as they began their journey across the continent. As sunlight found the verdant fields and plains surrounding them, both the beauty and the bounty of the Empire's land became far too clear. The hills were radiant under the sun and the land's streams, waterfalls and pools were practically sparkling. It was heavenly, idyllic, and Ozz was more than a little disappointed when his suggestion to stop and take a dip (without clothes of course) was quickly shot down. By everyone.

The group was fortunate enough to come across a rather sizable village by noon, the pang of hunger just settling in the group's stomachs as they passed through the wooden gates and found themselves in a bustling town square. Along the cobblestone courtyard, young lizards scurried about playfully while their elders watched the group entery warily. Merchants and vendor shops were set up quite literally everywhere, a cultural love for trade and profit clear among the lizardfolk.

'Welcome to Kalli." One hissed as the adventurers passed.

"Stay for a time!" Another beckoned.

Whether the group decided to stay here for a night, it was clear to everyone that a time of rest and recuperation was necessary. One does not simply survive a siege by fire at night and travel all morning to not find themselves crumbling from exhaustion after all. Three places very quickly became clear points of interest and cuisine. The local tavern/brothel, the inn and the food stalls at the center of the town square. To the surprise of no one, after agreeing to meet back up at the gates come evening the group wasted no time getting away from one another.​

Before Dorothea we still have a fair bit of lizard territory to cover and so our group has found a place to recover from the morning in the merchant village of Kali. The group will do a fair amount of things during their time here ranging from recruiting a new companion to securing a better way of travel. What your character does specifically all depends on where they go to get some food!

A little fun thing I'm doing this round is assign destinations based upon taste/preference BUT nothing is set in stone and if you want your character to go somewhere else by all means make the switch! All I ask is that each location has at least one person.

- Those who appreciate Spicy Food will gravitate towards the tavern/inn known as The Velvet Fang where they will meet and recruit Rowan to the cause!

- Those who appreciate Sweet Food will gravitate towards the Inn where they can rest and learn more about the haunting dream that everyone has been experiencing across the continent!

- Those who appreciate Savory Food will gravitate towards the Center of the Square and meet a bard company led by a golden Lizard who will be more than willing to let our party ride along them to Dorothea granted they do her one rather interesting favor!

This round will be collaboration posts! Who you write with depends on where you go but I'll be apart of all three docs this time as well.​
 
Jarek had no real opinion about the route they traveled to reach their objective. He agreed with Silph. No matter where they went they would attract attention, some would be welcome some not. He would have noted his thoughts had not Ozz chimed in and stated his need tot ravel through Dorothea, ending all other debate on the matter.

He was the first to follow his charge, and would place himself at his right as was his custom. He was if nothing else, a man of habit, routine and discipline. He supposed he was luckier than most, having been able to rest before his shift at the night guard, but after walking on foot all night and well into the next day without any means of provision or relief, he was tired, thirsty and hungry. He'd been quite oblivious to the beauty of the scene around then, as in his eyes it only afforded an enemy more places to hide themselves.

As they entered town he felt his back stiffen and his senses were immediately on alert as he watched the children, buyers and sellers all milling about the narrow streets. A tiny curl formed on his lips when the whole company parted ways at the town square, though watched Ozz. "Brothel?" he asked but it really wasn't a question as much as a deduction of past inclinations on the man's part. "Will you require a guard?" he asked with dead seriousness. He would far much rather sleep at the Inn away from the ruckus, but he had a sworn duty and he intended to do it as his conscience and character dictated.
 
An Angel in the Streets, a Devil in the Sheets
An obnoxious collab with @Applo and @ethicalslut , credit to @Applo for that title.



“I’ll watch him.” Reva’s voice came from somewhere behind Jarek’s considerable bulk. Those three words were almost the only thing the aasimar had said since Kirvam had made their departure. She had spent nearly the entire journey from the burning ruins of the senator’s estate lagging at the back of the group either staring at the floor or the sigil that hung from her belt. Ozztark’s proposal of bathing in a lake had only drawn an ambivalent grunt from her. Now, now she needed a distraction from the thoughts bouncing around inside her head.

Ozz was oh so close to suggesting that he and Jarek needn’t be in the brothel to have a little said fun together when Reva interjected. The half-orc jumped when she did, surprised to hear her speak, equally shocked to learn she was willing to accompany him.

Whatever disappointment he may have felt at Jarek not accompanying him into a hall of pure debauchery quickly melted into curiosity, and a rather arousing amount of fear at the thought of drinking with one as beautiful and unapproachable as Reva.

“I’ll behave Jarek dear, I promise.” Ozz laughed heartily, shooting the guardsman a farewell wink before setting off with the aasimar. It was only when he was out of earshot from the rest of their crew when he continued, turning to his new companion with a smile as they approached the Velvet Fang.

“You drink much?”

“When I can.” Glowing eyes slid sideways in their sockets to look at the half-orc as Reva pushed open and held the tavern’s door for Ozz. It was the first time Reva had really looked at her companion. There was an excitable look in his eye that made her wonder if she had made a mistake “You gonna make me regret coming with you, orc?”

“I’m a flirt, quite harmless really.” He answered with a shrug before motioning towards a more secluded corner at the bar. The cultural decadence of the lizard race was clear from the moment they even entered. Whether it was the estate of an esteemed senator or a humble tavern in a northern village, it seemed the haughtiness of the Kaleshian Empire could not be escaped so long as they were within its borders. Deep reds and violets decorated the hall before them, courtesans of all races twirling and laughing about the floor while drunkards and leches watched with hearts racing. Silks, satins, and the smell of liquor dominated the space and for the first time in awhile, Ozz felt like he was at home. For a moment his eyes drifted upwards, to an elevated balcony and a hall of doors, where all manners of sounds emanated. Ozz chuckled as he shot a wink at the woman at his side and smiled. “How quaint.”

Following the half-orc’s gaze Reva stared at the same doors before shrugging apathetically and turning to face the barkeeper instead. A whore house had whores; they whored, enthusiastically by the sounds of it. The sound of purse emptying love making was actually sort of comforting. It took Reva back to simpler times.

“Three of whatever is strong.” Coins were passed across the bar and when three slightly dusty bottles were pushed the other way Reva slid one in front of Ozz and lifted one of the other two halfway to her lips. “To surviving whatever in the hell that was.”

There was a loud bang from the second floor that attracted the attention of some of the guests within the tavern. On the second floor, a rather large man of a lizard was pounding on one of the closed doors with a bottle of ale in his clawed hand. He tried the handle a few more times before breaking it, letting himself in and leaving the door wide open behind him. While a free show was certainly an added bonus to their drink, it wasn’t exactly common practice to leave the door open for all to see. There were a few chuckles as some gestured to the lizard who’d forgotten to keep his private affairs just that-- private. Then, without much warning he was back on the balcony grappling with a woman in a silk robe.

“Watch your hands, I paid for the day.” The woman swiped at the lizard. “Move along, you’re in the wrong place, sweetheart.”

She wasn’t very tall and the most blatant detail of her silhouette were the two rugged horns behind her temples, hidden in her blonde hair. Most of her skin was an even copper colored tan with few pale blotches of white here and there. The only thing covering her body was an elegant red silk robe.

The lizard easily hoisted the woman up and walked over to the railing. “I told you, wrong room asshole. Now put me down before I kick your scaley hide to-” Kicking and screaming, she clawed at his thick skin and growled to no avail. He threw her over the railing and down to the tavern below.

She landed as gracefully as one does when thrown by a lizard from the second floor of a brothel, not at all, at the center of Ozz and Reva’s table. Blonde hair splayed out across the stained wood in a mess of braids and curls. There was a resounding crack and a wetness that spread across the back of her robe, and for a moment she wondered if she had finally met her fate. Her tanned hand slipped behind her back and pulled out the remnants of a bottle of ale.

“Shame.” She sighed. Looking on either side she was finally aware of two faces pointedly watching her, then back to the broken shard of glass in her hand. How rude of her to interrupt their drinks. She smiled, her lavender eyes glowing brightly. Without breaking a sweat, she cooed, “Hello, lovelies, was this yours?”

The lizard glowered from overhead before turning and charging down the steps.

“Oh, shit.”

Dripping with spilled ale, Reva stared blankly at the face of the copper skinned tart that had landed on the table in front of her; then her eyes moved to the smashed bottle, and finally to the lizard barrelling down the stairs towards her. It hadn’t been her business. When the door had been smashed open she had looked for a moment and then gone back to her drink. It had been someone else's business and that had been fine by her. She hadn’t cared. Now the lizard had made it her business.

The first scaled that reached for the copper skinned tiefling found itself side tracked as its owner was pulled towards a fist going in the other direction. As the lizard recoiled from the blow, Reva slid off of her stool and launched a vicious kick into the scaled bastards crotch.

“That was my drink you shit!.”

The lizard staggered, and on seeing him being assaulted from across the tavern two others rose tentatively to their feet with the intention of defending him. One became three, and to some of the patrons that was a clear signal to hightail it out of the Velvet Fang.

The tiefling grabbed the half-orc’s ale and downed it in three gulps, still laying flat on the table. She flipped the bottle in her hand so she was holding the neck, winking in appreciation.

“Thanks, darling, I’ll get ya’ back.”

She rolled off the table where Reva had stood up and quickly scrambled to her feet behind the woman. The tiefling swung the bottle down hard against the bar, breaking the end and turning it into a makeshift weapon.

Once the lizard gained his bearings, his eyes were on the tiefling once more with renewed fury. He snarled something unintelligible, and she easily whirled past Reva to strike him across the vulnerable, soft and fleshy skin under his neck. The lizard grasped his throat and took a step away from the tiefling, but she followed. With one last swing of her arm she brought the bottle down over his head and he fell to the floor, bleeding and unconscious.

She had come out of nowhere, like an angel from the sky. Or… like a rogue from the second floor balcony of a brothel dispute. Was there really a difference? Anyways, she was beautiful and Ozztarak felt nothing but excitement at how things had developed. What was a visit to a tavern without a good old fashioned tavern brawl after all?

The half-orc stood up with a smile, slipping off his overcoat and tossing it over the bar where he figured it would remain relatively safe. With the crack of his knuckles he turned to the tiefling and winked once more. “I accept payments by rounds and kisses by the by.”

At that Ozz threw himself at one of the approaching lizards, the sounds of his roaring laugh melting into the familiar euphony of splintering wood and the local entertainment happy to keep playing as things quickly descended into chaos. At the same time Reva danced her way across the island of tables and chairs towards the second of the lizard folk that had made the mistake of thinking this fight was their business. As she bounced onto the last table before she reached her new target, Reva kicked an abandoned bottle towards her new foe; and as they flinched, she loosed a flying kick squarely at its head. Landing on the edge of a table just behind the stricken lizard, Reva used it as a springboard to tackle her adversary to the floor and, taking advantage of their stunned state, rain blows down on them until those slit like eyes rolled back in their sockets.

Meanwhile, just a few steps away Ozz happily grappled with his new friend, teeth bared and grin wide while he brawled. Bodies slammed against the floor and furniture, drinks and half eaten plates of food flying everywhere in the process. It ended with a solid chokehold, the half-orc almost disappointed as the lizard went limp against him on the tavern floor.

“Oh come on now, it was just getting fun!” Ozz whined.

The tiefling whistled from the bar to attract the attention of the woman and the half orc. With the three scaled assailants beaten bloody, it was safe to say they had won the brawl. To celebrate the copper skinned woman had a token of thanks for them. In either hand she held three bottles of ale between her fingers and she raised them up as a gesture of good faith.

“I’ve got a room upstairs, why don’t we move somewhere a bit more private? On me. Consider it thanks for...well. All that.” She smiled wickedly and turned without waiting for an answer. They either came or they didn’t, simple as that. She still chided them on anyways, “Come along now, hm?”

"Whoever already paid for you wont mind?" Reva gave her foe one last parting kick before heading towards and then behind the bar. Ignoring the innkeepers protests, she rummaged through the collection of bottles, pulling the tops off and sniffing the contents until she found one that made her flinch.

The copper skinned woman couldn’t help but snort in amusement at the other woman’s question. She turned to look back over her shoulder, still keeping a slow pace towards her room. “Oh, sweetheart, I think you have it backwards. I paid for the room.” With a wink and a smile, she added, “But I’m flattered.”

She led them inside of a moderately large room with a wide eyed elf sitting cross legged on a decorated, four poster bed opposite the door. At the moment, a mere set of candles kept the space illuminated. The sheets were disheveled with some unspoken act of debauchery, clothes scattered carelessly about the floor. On the left side of the room was a partition hiding a large clawfoot tub already filled to the brim with steaming water. The inside of the room was just as lavish and gaudy as the rest of the brothel, covered with silks in rich crimsons and purples from floor to ceiling. There were still regular odds and ends, a dresser on the right wall and a plush bench with a mysterious stain in the center.

The tiefling sat down at the foot of the bed and set the bottles next to her, offering one to her new companions. The elf slid behind her off the bed and her hands were already working away at the copper skinned woman’s shoulders. She sighed in content and took a long swig from one of the bottles before speaking.

“I never asked your names.” She frowned. “Apologies, my name is Rowan. I appreciate you saving my ass back there. Wasn’t really looking for a fight. I feel like I owe you one.”

“Reva.” The aasimar gently shook the bottle she had liberated from the bar as an answer to the offered ale. She needed something stronger. Something that would silence all the thoughts bouncing around in her head. “You do.”

For a few moments shining eyes examined the room, pausing only for a mere moment on the elven courtesan half hidden behind Rowan before moving on again and finally coming to rest of the ornate bathing tub. The blood and grime of the previous night coating her skin alone was enough for the warm water to be appealing. The sticky ale soaked into her clothes made it irresistible. Wordlessly, and without any apparent shame or embarrassment, Reva placed her bottle on a side table and then promptly pulled the top half of her outfit off over her head.

Rowan said nothing, instead watching the stranger with a smirk on her lips and her brow raised curiously. Reva had scars, as did Rowan, but what caught her attention were the vertical marks running down her back on either side. Seemingly unaware or uncaring of her audience, the rest of the woman’s clothes soon hit the floor as she stepped out of them and towards the unoccupied bath tub, pausing only to grab her drink before sinking into and then under foamy water until just the hand holding the bottle was visible.

It took a second for Rowan to turn away from the bath and back to the half-orc. “And you are?”

The afternoon had taken a very interesting turn. Ozz watched everything develop with a respectful amount of caution of course, but he could not help the rise of a single eyebrow as curiosity and excitement found him. Who could blame him? The half orc was standing in a private room of a brothel with three beautiful women. Two of them were even capable of giving him a thrashing if it came down to it! It was an absolute dream, a paradise, and Ozz dared to inch closer to the horned in the room as he replied with a mock curtsy.

“After an entrance like that you can call me anything you want.” He mused. The half orc-threw a wink Rowan’s way and smiled. “But Ozz works just fine too.”


“Ozz.” Rowan said slowly, tasting the name on her tongue. She took another swig from the bottle with a smile playing out on her lips. He was an interesting one. She lowered the bottle and set it back on the floor. “So then, Ozz, what brings you to town with that ragtag bunch-- and don’t lie, window has a nice view.”

The tiefling gestured to the curtains hidden behind the bed. Covered mostly, thin strips of light barely illuminated the floor and the two back posts of the frame.

She smirked, “I’m a curious woman.”

“But where’s the intrigue and seduction in telling the complete truth?” Ozz replied, mirroring her expression as he moved just close enough to finish the drink she had set down. With a nod towards Reva’s outstretched hand he continued. “We’re gonna save the world. Or die trying, anyways.”

Rowan waved away the elf sitting between her and the bed, and the small girl scrambled away and towards the tub without a word. Hand still in the air, Rowan curled her fingers and tucked them under her chin. She met Ozz’s eyes with her lavender one’s and hummed. If he was being serious there was some opportunity in his words.

“Any coin in trying to save the world? I’m not bad company, in more ways than one.” Rowan took the hand from beneath her chin and reached out to toy with the necklace dangling against the collar of his shirt. She gently pulled him down by the flashy piece of jewelry and chuckled. “Well then?”

“Mm. Probably.” Ozz shrugged, though his eyes remained only on her. She was a sight in this lighting and the way that the tiefling was tempting him… well, the half-orc was never one to back down from a challenge. His eyes drifted downwards to the round of her lips, Ozz grinning as he spoke with a breath. “Lady Sybil help me…”

All it took was just one kiss, just the single motion of Ozz’s hand finding the back of her neck and drawing Rowan into his embrace. She instinctively responded by winding her hands into his hair, leaning up to meet him halfway. Everything else simply followed in suit, until a wet sponge hit Ozz in the side of the face.

“Be quiet.” The screen hid most of the bathtub from the strange couple, but Reva’s mismatched glowing eyes stared at them through strands of auburn hair from the one bit they could see. Also just visible, resting on the side of the tub, was a pair of delicate elven feet. “You can do that some other time, okay?”

Rowan couldn’t help but burst into a small fit of laughter. Cheeks flushed from the half-orc’s advance, she was both annoyed and amused that the one called Reva had interrupted their spontaneous passion. Ah well, Rowan thought. She stood and paced to the dresser, her back to the two strangers, letting the robe fall away within the few short steps on the way.

“Let me get dressed. Why don’t you tell me all about this world saving business, and we can take it from there.” The tiefling looked over her shoulder with a smile. “It sounds interesting.”
 
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Jarek was more than a little surprised at Reva's offer to watch after Ozz, but he nodded and left her to it. He took a deceptively casual turn around the square noticing the golden lizard and a company of bards who appeared to be some sort of traveling group. That might prove to be a fortunate coincidence for them if they could manage to convince her to join their cause. He had a humorous thought that Ozz should ply his practiced charm on her, but he noticed a shrewd spark in the lizard's eye as he passed the group that led him to believe she would not be so easily persuaded.

He saw that Ozz and Reva had disappeared and so he continued his scoping of Kalli. He liked having a good working grasp of his surroundings in the even that unexpected 'difficulties' might arise, and given the company he was choosing to keep in this adventure he felt certain such occasions would indeed arise.

After nearly half an hour he found himself standing in front of the Inn. His gaze drifted up to the signpost, The Velvet Fang. That was an interesting name for an Inn, but he stepped inside and hoped for a good meal and a comfortable bed to sleep in for the night. The room was full of patrons which gave him some level of hope for that good meal at least, but not a quiet night's sleep. As tired as he felt at the moment though it may not matter if there was a full on invasion, he'd likely rest like the dead.

Making his way to a seat in the far right corner of the room he pushed the hood off his head and ran his hand through the thick black waves that covered his head. He sat with his back against the wall and looked out over the room casually assessing every one of the people there with the mental precision that only years of training and experience afforded.
 
The Keeper and The Bard
collab w/ help from @Applo & @Lillian Gray in absence of Eth

Heladre swayed through the square as she was accustomed to doing. Her unusually golden eyes matched her shimmering golden scales as she moved through the crowds with a swing to her step. She was dressed in revealing silks, a dancer just as much as she was a bard, and she was looking for someone, but not just anyone. News of a group of foreigners had spread quickly, and someone not personally tied to these lands was just what she needed.

Near the center of the settlement was a diverse gathering of stalls, it was here that Heladre waited to catch a glimpse of the newcomers. Scents, both pleasant and unfamiliar, wafted through the air along with the busy hum and bustle of chatter between merchants and their hungry customers. It was the heart of the homey little town and it was apparent by the throngs of people who walked the stone streets.

Ana’Riel had dispersed from the group rather quickly, eager to find a stable for her beloved Eros where he could rest. Once she’d been assured the stallion would be taken care of, she gravitated towards the cobbled square that rung with hearty laughter and boisterous shouting as the assembled crowd jostled to get the last bits of food from the various vendors A savory, spiced sauce with a smooth texture drizzled over two slices of lamb and berries on the side drew her in. It smelled delicious. The stale bread and soft cheese from the road had not done much to satiate her.

Ana stuck her finger in the sauce and savored the thickness of it the moment she was given her meal and she’d given the lizard her coin for the purchase. Absolutely heavenly.

“Can I please have extra sauce?”

“It’d be my pleasure, traveler. The name’s Ingrid. You must be one of the foreigners everyone is hooting about,”The older lizard mused as she took a huge ladle and scooped up another amount of the gray sauce onto the slices of lamb.

Ana enjoyed the fact that the lamb was now swimming in sauce– it tasted good with the berries as well,even though she wasn’t particularly fond of mixing two food groups together. This was an exception, however, as she was ravenous.

“I suppose our reputation precedes us,” she offered and took a bite of the lamb with the gravy like substance. “Mm,” she moaned in appreciation. “This is delicious. We decided to travel this way after we escaped the tragedy that befell Lord Kirvam’s estate.”

She took another bite of lamb.

“Aye, I’m sorry to hear what happened to everyone. It seems you were attacked by others as well,” The red scaled lizard gestured towards Ana’s bandage on her upper arm and Ana nodded.

“There would be nothing to show for why I decided to take Kirvam’s offer, had I ended up dead, along with the others, of course.”

“Why did you take that old fart up on his offer?”

“Simple, really– I want to stop this mist, just as much as everyone else. People are dying…”

He died.

“We have to get to the root cause of what’s happening and only then, will we be able to save thousands.”

“The end is upon us, upon us all!” The shrill cry came from ragged man in a long hooded robe. It looked like it might have once been elegant burgundy in color but it had been stained, and faded to a worn muddy brown. There were holes here and there which revealed his equally grimey skin.

A group had occupied the main square with their wailing, the same message came in the form of raspy cries from their weary lips. The mist. The mist. The mist! And it was coming. It wasn’t just a group of lizards in the humble village square. Humans, elves, and even a handful of dwarves were mixed into the crowd. That helped to explain the sizable gathering despite the town’s rather small number of buildings. All of them whispered terrible warnings of the coming doom. Many of the village residents actively avoided them as they passed by, only to be unfortunately dragged in by their prayers and idle threats of punishment by the divines and the cursed mist.

“How can you sit there as if nothing is wrong?” A woman beside Ana’Riel cried in an even more pained voice than the man. She dragged her hands over her eyes and threw her head back as if she were in absolute agony. “How can you be merry when the mist approaches? We have angered the Gods and they think us all sinners. We deserve no less than their punishment! Oh divines, take me!”

The shrieking woman, her eyes as wide as saucers, grasped Ana’Riel’s shoulders in a vice-like grip and hissed in a terrified voice just inches from her chin. “Beg the gods for forgiveness, child.” The woman’s hand moved so fast it was a blur as it knocked the food out of Ana’s hand; covering both themselves, the elf and the floor in thick sauce. “DO NOT BE TOO PROUD TO BEG THE GODS FOR MERCY CHILD!

Ana stared at the woman, shocked. Ingrid immediately rushed over to clean up the mess and hand Ana a warm towel to wipe the sauce off of her leather armor.

“I’ll make you another, plate. Those damned doomsayers,” Ingrid muttered.

Ana removed herself immediately from the woman’s grip and cleaned herself up as best she could while the woman wailed, on and on. The new crowd of dwarves, elves, and lizards had gone into mass hysteria.

“I don’t need to beg the Gods for anything,” Ana grimaced, her irritation peaked. “I’ve been riding hundreds of miles to save you and your people. We are going to stop the Mist. We have an advantage, we have someone who can move through it unharmed. Who are you to tell me how I can sit here as if nothing is wrong? You are breeding fear in your people! They need hope and at least I’m doing something about this mist.”

The woman cackled madly at Ana’Riel,before jabbing a thin finger at the elf’s chest and hissing, “You’re riding the wrong way, elf, you should have kept running!” She suppressed a series of chuckles before continuing on her rant, “You breed lies, likes spiders weaving a web of false hope. Snakes in their den, poison to the mind you know.”

Heladre had seen Ana’Riel approach the square and instantly flagged her as one of the newcomers. Seeing an elf this far West wasn’t exactly common outside of the girls working at the Velvet Fang, but with the rambling woman standing between her and the elf it was all but impossible for the well meaning lizard to approach. She wrung her scaly hands together anxiously and tried to gauge whether or not the hysterical woman would leave, but she only continued to scream, as did the rest of the doomsayers. Did it ever stop? She still needed to make a living, mist or not.

“The only truth is of the divines. They are angry. ANGRY, MY CHILD.” The woman screamed, “AND WE MUST TELL THE WORLD OF WHAT IS TO COME.

“You will be saved!” Ana fought back. “I know this. Your Gods may be angry and that is why we’ve taken on Kirvam’s mission to stop the Mist. If we work together to stop it, perhaps your Gods will favor you more and see reason.”

Ana was growing increasingly frustrated. All she’d wanted was a hot meal.

The woman’s face tensed up and she was suddenly very quiet. She took a step closer to Ana’Riel and jabbed her finger in the open space between them, mouth open with a yet to be spoken threat. Her lips curled up and her eyes smiled with a sinister glint to them. There was no reason or logic to her words, just the twisted logic of a madwoman lost to delusion and the belief that there was no end but death. Death by horrible, rage induced murder at the influence of the silver mist.

Quietly, she spoke. “I have but one God. And she will bring the light and we will all burn together in this madness.”

Ana had significantly calmed down, now that the woman wasn’t shrieking in her face. She was still angry, but her voice was solemn.

“How will she bring light if we burn? You don’t want to see your children live? Your grandchildren or your great grandchildren? There is still hope, even if you and your people feel lost right now.”

“Burning in L'étoile’s light will be a mercy for the righteous,” The finger was withdrawn as the wild eyes in the woman’s twisted face looked Ana up and down. “Keep running little elf, see how long you can escape the goddess mother’s judgement. She will find you. Then you will beg.”

Obviously having finished with the strange elf for now, the woman backed away from Ana and rejoined the rest of her strange congregation. Sensing her opportunity, Heladre dashed forwards before the crowd chose her as its next target or before the newcomer had a chance to disappear and put a scaly hand on the elf’s shoulder.

“Charming bunch aren't they!” Golden eyes shone like gemstones. “I was wondering if you and I might talk a little somewhere more… sane. I think we might be able to help each other.”

Ana flinched, her hand going to the hilt of her sword. Her shoulders immediately dropped, recognizing that this lizard wasn’t a hysterical buffoon. She shrugged the lizard’s hand off and rolled her eyes as she took the second plate Ingrid had created for her.

“Please, for the love of all that is just and righteous, why on Earth would I follow you anywhere in this village?”

She wasn’t about to trust some stranger after she witnessed what she’d hardly call a ‘welcoming’ bunch to the town square.

“Who’s to say you won’t do the same as she did and pretend to cast some kind of curse on me for not doing anything?”

“Oh, please.” Heladre purred. She bowed her head in thanks towards the red scaled vendor as she was handed a plate. “When they’re shouting like that no one can hear my beautiful voice. A bard’s work revolves around her audience, and this one is a bit distracted by all the white noise. I want them gone, you want them gone. Shouldn’t that be enough for now?”

“Perhaps. If you tell me who you are, and what you really want,” Ana responded pointedly and took a bite of her food. She thanked Ingrid with a gesture.

“My name is Heladre. I am known in these parts for my golden voice!” The lizard rolled her hand with a bit of flare. “I know, you may have thought it was my scales. Ha! My band has been unable to perform with all these doomsayers about and we don’t have quite enough coin to travel. Please, should you help us rid the square of their obnoxious ramblings, your own merry little band could join our caravan on the road in the morning, we’re headed to Dorothea. Or whenever it is you decide to leave. We can always use the coin to spare. What do you say?”

Ana raised a brow at Heladre’s request. It wouldn’t be hard to get rid of the doomsayers. Not to mention, she was the only sensible traveler with a horse while the others had decided to walk on foot, so having a caravan would be equally beneficial.

“Tempting. I’m sure my fellow… companions, if you will, would surely appreciate not walking on foot for a while or dying of starvation. They’ve dispersed, however, so we’ll have to round them up.”

“Wonderful!” Heladre clapped her claws together gleefully. “Thank you, ah… oh, I haven’t asked your name sweetheart.”

“Ana’Riel. Only that,” Ana responded and glanced around at the moaning travelers. “This will be quite amusing, perhaps more so than I intend.”

“Amusement is not something I ever shy away from,” Lifting the plate to her lips, Heladre slurped at its contents before handing it back to the redscaled Ingrid. “When you are ready, my dear, let us go find your friends.”
 
Two grumps at the inn - a collaboration between @Kuno @PoetLore and @Lillian Gray



Jarek was expecting someone to offer him a menu of some kind, anything really, but as he sat there, he began to realize that there were some interesting ‘aromas’ there were not at all coming from food preparation of any kind. In a dawning moment he pulled the hood back up over his head and slipped out the way he had come in, albeit with a great deal more haste in his step.


How in the world had he ended up in the brothel? Yes, he had made the complete turn around the square, but normally his sense of direction and wherewithal were a bit more in tune with his surroundings. He attributed it to fatigue and found the actual inn and entered only a few steps inside before stopping to be certain he was in the right place at last. No odd smells, no half naked women, no broken tables to be seen, yes this was the right place.


He moved from the door as he had before and made his way to the back corner and sat down at a table with his back against the wall. He brushed the hood back from his hair again and prayed for a menu and some hot food. He was hungry, thirsty and tired and not really in great humor after his earlier mishap.


The guard’s entry was noted by more than one pair of eyes, though only one flashed with familiarity. Silph was not an easy figure to miss. Perched squarely in the center of the inn’s dining area, the blonde could be seen nursing a mug of ale, eyes dulled with exhaustion. She gave a slight nod in Jarek’s direction but made no move to join him. In truth, she was tired of talking. The long journey from the senator’s home to Kalli had stretched the little conversation skills she had to the limit - not to mention the heightened urge to strangle every last one of them. In the inn, she’d found some small sense of solace, but it was hard keeping her eyes open. She regretted eating so early.


With a small grunt, Silph rose and trudged over to the bar counter. They would all need rooms tonight; she may as well get the others situated, though she doubted they would stray too far from the brothel’s debauchery. A small, shameful part of her wished she had gone along as well, though for what purpose she was too conservative to admit to even herself. Drifting away mentally, the glint of scales in her peripheral vision snapped her back, and she turned to the innkeeper shuffling around behind the counter.


“Excuse me,” She began. “I need rooms, please. You have...do you have six? Six rooms?”


The lizard snapped his beady eyes Silph’s way and crossed his arms. He had ceased his pacing and squinted towards the blonde haired woman who had spoken. His lips curled up and he sighed at the stranger.


“Six? I might have two. They have two beds each so it might get a little cramped.” The innkeeper shrugged. “If you-”


“Not another night!” A hysterical man followed by his entourage came storming down the stairs. He was dressed in the same rich purples that decorated Kivram’s estate, a sure sign of his status as someone important. Although, as to what wasn’t clear. He elbowed his way past Silph, shoving her out of his way, and slammed two keys on the counter. “Not one more, I won’t have it, you and you’re cursed inn!”


Behind the aristocrat loomed a violent threat. Her temper made explosive from lack of sleep, Silph was set to crack the damned lizard across the jaw before something - perhaps only the grace of Akadum - stayed her hand. She brought a shaking fist back down to her side and resolved to stay quiet, lest she cost the entire party room and board.


“Sir, as I explained to you before,” The innkeeper hardly batted an eye as the pompous man approached the counter. “The inn isn’t cursed. Everyone here seems to experience the nightmare after a time, not that I want to…” He mumbled the last bit under his breath.


“Every night since I’ve come, the most beautiful woman has blessed my dreams.” The man explained. He looked pleased at first, but then his expression distorted into something that portrayed both confusion and horror. “An aasimar woman with hair like golden fields, and skin as pale as ivory. Her wrists-”


“Shackled in chains, and her voice like a thousand claws on glass as she begs for salvation.” The innkeeper rolled his scaled hand in the air, over and over, as if he’d heard the tale before. But there was no sleep lost in his eyes, nor was there any recognition in his voice. He was only repeating the words others had said a hundred times before. He followed up by gesturing around the room. “Haven’t you noticed how tired everyone looks? It’s not my inn, I can assure you. No one is getting a good night’s rest because of this nightmare. It’s the work of the mist and both my pockets and I assure you, if I could do anything I would. Surely you won’t reconsider?”


The man paused, seemingly taking a moment to reconsider. Then he violently shook his head and slapped the counter beside the keys. “No, take them! I won’t stay another minute.”


Jarek nodded to Silph and heaved a sigh of relief when she decided not to join him. He had never been good at idle talk, and he was too tired to think of anything to say that might be considered even partially civil. He still hadn’t seen a waiter but he wasn’t in much of a hurry.


Plodding on the stairs drew his attention that way, and he noticed Kirvam’s colors immediately. He wondered how this man had managed to avoid the flames and felt his hackles rising a bit. Silph was attempting to speak with the owner and was now being unceremoniously ignored in favor of this boisterous lizard. Standing and making his way to the group he grabbed up the keys, “I will take these.”


He nodded to the ‘dignitary’ and looked at the innkeeper, “Price?” He’d heard the details of the dream and wondered at it but he asked no questions while the lizard was still there. He had a feeling there would be no shortage of people who could expound upon what they’d heard.


“Well, well Caedesh, no more second guesses.” The inkkeeper leaned forward on his fist and smirked.


“Fine then, fine.” The man, Caedesh, turned to Jarek and scowled unpleasantly. “You’re in for a treat, soldier. Nightmares await you, and the staff are stumblin’ over their own feet tryin’ to keep up with the wash.”


Another man appeared from somewhere behind him, a small pile of linens in his arms. He was much younger and his scales were still soft in appearance. There were dark purple bruises under his eyes and every careful step was more wobbley than the next. All the noble looking gentleman had to do was open his mouth one last time and the young lizard snapped.


“Enough of you!” The young one barked. “I can’t sleep, can’t work, and now you. You!


The young one threw down his linens and looked for something heavier, finding an empty jug beneath the counter. He hurled it Caedesh’s head and immediately went for something else, hands slapping against the empty counter. The metal clanged against the wooden floors near the door of the inn and other guests turned to watch the commotion.


“You want these goddamn keys?” The young one snatched them from Jarek. “You’ll be dreaming too, you’ll all be dreaming, oh gods, I can still see her.”


He was hysterical, and now he had the keys. The young one slammed his hands on the counter again and hissed at Jarek. His eyes only briefly flashed to Silph, looking at her only served to remind him of the blonde aasimar from his dreams.


Jarek watched all of this without so much as a flinch. Insufficient sleep was obviously causing this young one to lose control of himself. He merely held out his hand, “I will take those keys.” He did notice how all the men seemed to be avoiding looking at Silph and he realized she was likely bringing the dream back to their minds in full force. He wondered if anyone was attempting to stay in the dream and follow it where it would lead or if they were all waking in terror to flee from responsibility. She might be the reason for their mission...or part of it.


"And we will take the two rooms left as well."


Silph's patience was quickly wearing thin with the lizard folk. They were and always had been an odd people to her; she did not so much as bat an eye at the two's crazy ramblings, though she did catch the looks they threw her way. Her hands came to rest firmly on her hips. A blonde, beautiful lady, eh?


Hmph. They had the wrong woman by far.


"We have many peoples with and will need the space," Silph stated firmly, staring down the young lizard who still clutched the keys. "We will take the keys or take our gold somewhere else, yah? Your choice."


“Rhokk, calm down.” The inkkeeper turned in an attempt to calm his frenzied staff.


They both looked tired, but the younger one had that spark fueled by a sudden break of sanity only sleep deprivation could muster. The young one, Rhokk, swiped at the innkeeper and missed by a large margin. He swiped a second time, claw meeting an arm before stumbling onto his backside behind the counter with both keys clattering to the ground. The innkeeper cursed at the young lizard and took a step away, not wanting to be caught in the middle.


“I told you. Cursed.” Caedesh backed away from the counter with his entourage until he was safely within reach of the door, and made a hasty retreat outside. The young one was back on his feet with a broom in his hands.


From the floor the young lizard clawed and bashed at the open air, howling about the aasimar from his nightmares. In all honesty, the innkeeper just wanted him to stop talking. It was bad for business the longer he went on. He knew of the nightmares, knew of the aasimar, but divines! If he didn’t stop now the whole town would hear.


“L-look, just get him to stop and you can have the rooms for free.”


Jarek watched this whole rather entertaining scene play out without comment or much of a reaction, that is until the Innkeeper said the magic word ‘free’. He moved past Silph in a calm manner and approached the crazed worker. He held his hand in front of the boy’s face and snapped his fingers to get the kid’s attention and then grabbed hold his shoulder with his free hand. Long fingers dug into the muscles there and pinched them until they were almost touching, “Stop.”


He didn’t give the boy any warning of his intended action and he knew for a fact that pain was a sure way to end such a tirade. He pushed the youth against the wall and waited for him to calm down. He counted to ten in his head and waited to see if plan b would become necessary. Plan b was of course to render the kid unconscious, which given his current state would be the most merciful thing he could do.


The young one dropped his broom when his back hit the wall. He snarled angrily at Jarek and raised his fist with the intention of punching him square in the jaw.


Jarek sighed and in a swift and unexpected movement drew the sword from his side and brought the hilt down onto the boy’s head in a heavy motion releasing his shoulder as he crumbled to the floor. He turned to the innkeeper, “He has stopped.” he held out his hands for all the keys.


The innkeeper gathered the dropped keys and quickly located the others, handing all four to Jarek with a heavy bow of his head. “Thank you, and my deepest apologies. Rhokk is a good lad, he is, but the nightmare-- it has plagued him for many nights now. The sleep will do him good. Thank you sir, thank you.” The innkeeper bowed his head in thanks again, this time he came from behind the counter and gestured towards the stairs.


“If you like I can show you to your rooms. Otherwise, they are on the right, ah…” He fussed with the keys in Jarek’s hand before pointing to two of them. “Two and three, on the back, and, these two at the very end. Seven and Eight.”


Silph cleared her throat from behind them. "And which rooms are single bed? I will take it," She tacked on, eyes darting between the two of them.


The innkeeper chuckled. “I am sorry, none of the rooms have single beds. Ah, wait, no. The last one does. This one.” He took one of the keys from Jarek’s hand and held it up. “At the end of the hall.”


No less than a beat later, the key was gone from his hand, tucked away into Silph's palm. Jarek could share a room with the orc for all she cared; the rest, too, could figure out their own sleeping arrangements. But she owed it to herself to have just one night alone...just one.


"Until next time," Silph said curtly. Without looking back, the Northerner brushed past the two, headed towards the last room at the end of the hall.


Jarek watched her saunter off with her room key with a raised brow and a nod. That one was definitely different, but at least she was not going to talk your face off. He was very thankful for that fact.


He looked back at the innkeeper, “Still serving food?” he asked as he slipped the three keys into his vest pocket.


“Of course.” The innkeeper nodded. “Just, don’t mind the guests. We’re all a bit weary from the nightmare, hopefully the divines bless you all tonight. Should you require anything at all, ask for Olthuv.” The innkeeper gestured to himself, patting his chest. “It is the least I can offer for keeping the peace, at least for one night.”


Jarek nodded and took a seat back in the corner where he had been previously, happy to be against the wall and able to see everything and everyone. He wasn’t generally one to care about the idiosyncrasies of the general public. He tended to note people of a certain bearing that came with years of training and battle. Everyone else was fodder for the regular folk to deal with as a rule. However, these people were definitely showing the signs of being worse for wear and more than one night of restlessness and distress.


He ordered something to eat and waited for it to arrive. He drank the fruited water the innkeeper had on hand. It was refreshing and thankfully cold as he wished. When his food arrived he devoured it without much delicacy being more hungry than socially concerned at the moment. He sat back, leaning against the wall as he finished the last piece of bread on his plate. That had been a welcome feast, and likely the last he was to expect for some time.