The Northeastern Border of the Twisted Woods
The faclon circled overhead, its shadow undulating across the terrain dully as the sun threatened to break through the grey fog lifting ever higher into the sky. The afternoon no longer wished to hold onto the chill the night hand brought, and released it in vapors to replace with the coming afternoon sun. The bird cried out to its master as it spotted another form within the trees, but the warning came too late.
A hunter called out to his friend, but the earth rumbled violently and let loose the earth below the horses' feet in a thick cloud. One would think it impossible with how damp the earth was with moisture from the melting frost, but another dragon made its appearance known, its massive form thrashing through the dust.
The hunters were thrown from their mounts with great force, tumbling out of the fray and down the hill just as their initial target landed. They were quick to action, each taking their own target as they swiftly rose and loosed arrows at the two riders. The severety of the situation called for the quick elemination of the Dragon Wardens, though as they fired a second round they backed their way towards the Twisted Woods in hopes for escape.
Only five arrows each among them, and the two massive dragons would be too difficult to overcome. What use would a bounty be to a hunter if they were not alive to collect it? This job was over for the two. They would need to retreat, recouperate, and try again another time. The likes of the Twisted Woods felt more survivable than this situation, especially now that their horses were gone.
Julaeus clung to the jutting cliff face just outside the cave where the girl retreated. Sweat beaded down his pale face where dark strays of blue locks stuck to his temples. The fast beating of his heart drummed in his ears in fear of the coming encounter. It took every ounce of bravery for the elf to bring himself to let go of the rocks to free one hand and produce a letter within a side pocket of his bag. Tossing it into the cave, he cleared his throat, readying himself to speak loudly and clearly over the crashing waves of the sea.
"I-I am a friend, I swear!" he called out to the Dragon Warden. "Please, take the letter. Read it. I am what you would call a Guide. I am here to help you!"
Taking in a calming breath, he carefully removed the bag from around his shoulders. The shift in weight nearly caused the man to slip from the shelf that carried him, but he maintained his balance and threw the bag into the cave as well. He hoped dearly the bag did not hit the girl or the dragon within. The last thing he needed was to anger the two and become their next meal.
When the bag met the cavern floor, a few of its contents spilled out and scattered across the rocks. Rations of bread, dried meats, fruits, and vegetables could be seen within, along with several tin canteens of fresh water that sloshed about. A blanket and some clean clothes were also packed neatly within.
Julaeus waited. While the letter sealed with the mark of the star would carry important information, it was not all that needed to be reported to the Dragon Warden.
Southeastern forests of the Woodlands of Valnahar
The forests closer to Lake Novae and the river that feeds it are a sight to behold at night. The bioluminescent flora burst with color and a glow that felt as though one were walking through a dream, serene and at peace. It is revered by many, and the native Sur regard it as a sacred forest blessed by the World Tree.
In the morning, however, it looked just as any other forest. Late Autumn began to herald the cold, and the dying leaves wilted and fell from the trees and matted the floor in preparation. Tall trees moaned as the wind rocked them gently, a few lightly tapping each other, their branches lightly sighing with the friction as if to pass on a secret.
An unnatural, yet soothing whir grew above the treetops. Vuaturi constructs began their migration to more temperate climates for the Winter. A five day travel from the foothills of the Veridan Mountains would take them into Faledrin.
A flash of light caught the eye of the Vuaturi. Such luminescence in these parts were uncommon during the day. The color was easily recognizable as arcane magic, but what they saw next was something they had not anticipated. There was a dragon out in the open.
Thannel brushed past his holographic map as he made for his balcony to gain a better vantage point. Dragons were being hunted by humans, but these lands were sacred. He wasn't sure the Sur would approve, and should they discover it could cause another rift among elves and man. Without the Dragon Wardens, who was there to keep the peace?
"Keep to your course," a voice chimed through a speaker within his construct. "We do not mettle in the affairs of others."
The constructs rumbled in magical suspension as they slowly floated past the action. The dragon swooped down into the trees, only to come right back up. Something, no someone was in the dragon's claws. Thannel's white eyes widened with sudden realization. The dragon was arcane based on its structure, and while those dragons were known to play with their food, they were not known to carry their food so gently and caringly.
Entering his modest construct once again, Thannel approached the helm and altered his course. His elvin kin bursted through the sound system in protest, commanding that he readjust his course and demanding that he explain his actions. He knew even if he were to tell them, they would advise he do the opposite. He had already made up his mind.
Excitement grew in the pack of wyverns as their prey began to fight back. A couple of them flew towards the wall and perched upon it in search for the girl while the others swarmed. They occasionally swooped down as they flew about, their maws snapping towards the dragon and the girl as if to toy with them.
Ifer's icy breath sliced through the hides of the two atop the wall, the dark blood oozing from the wounds as they released a pained shrill. The injured wyverns retreated back into the canopy, but this did not deter the others that drew nearer and nearer. A rather eager one rushed around the wall of ice and lashed out towards Feria with its spiked tail while another snapped dowards her arm with its teeth.
The wyvern swarm was difficult to number, for they kept falling back into the canopy shade before coming right back out into flight. They looked to have gathered around twenty, all excited for the kill, yet unknowing of what they were really up against.
The Northern border between the Twisted Woods and the Northern Mountains
Not very many were willing to traverse the lands close to the Twisted Woods. There were times when the creatures within would become bold and curious of the expanse outside their trees. The few that would even live close to this border came from generations that refused to leave their homes. One such person was Barrod the shepherd who, on this fine Autumn day, tended to his sheep contently. He was a fine shepherd, priding himself in his herd. His faithful dogs rounded about to his side and sat as they waited for his commands, their eyes watching with him for any possible lurking predators.
His eyes widened at the sight of a dragon swooping down and landing among the valley ahead. Instincts kicked in as he concerned himself with the safety of his sheep. One dragon, especially one of that size, could likely feast off of his herd without so much of a pause. Through his teeth he released a shrill whistle, his dogs bursting into action as they began to run to the other side of the herd. Barrod kept his eyes to the dragon, using his peripheral to gauge what command to whistle out next.
The dragon was barely a speck of color down the ridge, but it was enough for the shepherd to eventually make out the form of a person upon its back. The air seized in Barrod’s lungs. Oh, what a terrible fate that has befallen him this day! He almost wished he had only to deal with just a dragon. This news was something the man would want to report to his family and friends. They needed to be warned of the terror that lurked close at hand.
The Northern Woods of Eversyth
There was a break in the tree line that led into a clearing atop a small hill. Upon the hill rested a cozy looking cottage nestled under a large tree. It was typical of a few Naveri to live out on their own away from their large villages. The solitude was perfect for Dragon Warden supporters, but Idhrenan hesitated at the edge of the forest. She looked over at Eosphelon to express her concern. This was the first house they had come across in the past two days, and it fit the description of what was given to the Dragon Warden.
A last minute check on her hat and a hooded cloak for extra measure, Idhrenan urged the small arcane dragon to stay within the shade of the woods. Each step was carefully measured, the soft soles of her boots treading along the grass to minimize her tracks as best as possible. The warm sun kissed her exposed skin in the cool air. It was likely a good hundred and some paces to the rugged looking wooden door framed by grey stone. She carefully searched through the hanging meat set to cure outside and along the drying flowers strung from a post. Finally, she found the star painted in red and felt a rush of relief.
Eosphelon perked up in interest, eager to get out in the open field, but Idhrenan requested he remain still until she checked the presence within the quaint cottage. She knocked on the door thrice, waiting only a moment until the door swung wide.