Wednesday, August 28, 2019

Day 27 in Dragonshore (Part 3)

Atriox...

Now alone in your stronghold with your thoughts, you are aware of how much work is left to do. It's exhausting to think about. Your head hurts, your neck aches, and your muscles could use a decent rest. You stand, get dressed, and head outside. The blue-skinned kobolds are eagerly working around you like many bees in a beehive. There is an almost static electricity in the air, left over from the storm that passed by during the morning.

Wandering to the edge of the camp you hear Vele's distinct whistle. Looking up you see Tak has arrived. He showed up rather quickly considering the distance of the other camp, riding atop a strange reptilian creature--some kind of felldrake. He leaps from its back and scratches it behind the jaw, dropping a dead bird for it to eat. The scaly beast, rather like a huge dog, shreds the feathery carcass with its razor sharp teeth.

Approaching you, Tak nods to Vele. He takes off a hobgoblin skull helmet he was wearing out of respect for you. It's rather fetching on him, bleached and covered in warpaint--a smattering of colors and a shape on the forehead that is reminiscent of your horns and crest.

"Tak come as soon as he could. Sounded like problem..." He looks around warily. "Everything alright?"

Atriox shakes his head slightly eyeing the beast with appreciation

"no problem brother. Theres just some things that I need to go over with my two most trusted Commanders. Come both of you. Walk with me and tell me how things are progressing in both camps. I want to know everything."

Tak and Vele walk on either side of you. You all travel along the newly tramped down pathways around the temple campsite. Things have definitely been changing in both camps, and the handiwork of kobolds is noticeably different than that of elves or goblins.

Tak is the first to speak. "Goblin camp is now definitely Kobold camp. We strip away all their stink and rot. The bodies we... disposed of." He sniffs, like he doesn't want to go into the details of it. "The others having harder time with the warmer weather here. Very good diggers though. Dug from river, diverted some underground water to pits around camp. Now has a moat. Uh, you saw that last time... wait..." He was doing a rather good job, but starts to get a little flustered the more he thinks about his position and duties.

"We built new training pit. Have many weapons made. Just finished some runner tunnels the other day, easy sneaking from one camp to the other without going above ground. Only need go one at a time. Best for messages." He scratches at some drying scales on his neck and cheek. You notice he's actually a little more dull colored now rather than the deeper green he was when you met him. It's been gradual enough that it hasn't been that easy to see.

"They taking from trees, trying to not use much. Pyrlanth would not like." He shrugs. "Just enough. Not excess. Taking from hills closer to mountains. Different trees, good for poles and weapons."

Vele eyes Tak with interest. She seems to be silently judging his words and his authority, as if sizing him up. They really haven't had many interactions outside of their own camps considering how busy they've both been. Looking up at Atriox, she smiles kindly and straightens her posture. "Yes, it is true we've needed to acclimate to the new environment here. It is not like the icy peaks from whence we came... the warmth is strange to us, almost too hot. Unlike Tak's... kind, we are warm blooded like dragonborn."

Tak's brow furrows and he stares at her. He seems a little put off by that.

"We've been able to make wonderful headway in the temple though, and have excavated a few new rooms. We can show you later, if you would like? It seems to contain some old statue work. Many small, strange trinkets have been found but... none that we typically save. We've placed them outside for your consideration. We've also constructed some platforms among the trees for ambushes on the road." Her cheeks flush a little at that, remembering the failed attempt earlier. "I've been creating traps for the others to use against intruders. They shall wish they never stumbled upon us."

Atriox nods calmly as they speak but pride is evident on his face.

"You two have done amazing work. With the two of you leading your people in these two separate camps I believe we can keep peace. We must make the town trust us. Someday if any of our people wish it they will be free to live in that town instead of on the outside like animals. Until they we must keep up the progress, but I dont want them to exhaust themselves either. You say the heat has been giving all of you some grief ? Well let's try and do something about that shall we.

Atriox stops and looks torwards the direction of the ocean

"I want you two to work together on setting up turns for our troops to get some time off and go spend at the beaches and ocean. The water should help cool them off. That includes you two of course. I'd say everyone has earned it."

He continues walking torwards the temple and where he saw a pile of artifacts

Tak and Vele look equally surprised at your suggestion, but Vele grows a little excited. "Y-yes. Thank you Atriox, we shall do as you command." She heads off, Tak somewhat grumbling behind as he goes to retrieve his felldrake. There's a bit of a ride back to his camp and more to be seen to. "Warm-blooded... pah, harak." he curses under his breath.

You approach the entrance of the temple again, scanning through the items discarded in the nearby bin. You're sure anything of more intense (or shiny) value has been pilfered by the kobolds and taken downstairs to the treasury. Much of the gear is useless, containing things such as a rotten saddlebag, old boots, rusted nails and hammers, some old broken pottery and moth-eaten linens.  But as you dig through it you find four things that stand out to you.

The first item you pick up appears to be a disk of finely polished stone. On one side is an elvish rune inscribed in blackest obsidian. Upon the other, a dwarven rune is inscribed in the palest ivory.

The second is a decrepit leather case. Opening it you find an elegant carved comb of oak, engraved with the name Aethelren and decorated with twin dragons. Beside it is a similar comb of ash, engraved with the name Ilthorien and decorated with twin unicorns.

The third is a delicately carved hope chest of polished cherry wood. The box contains nothing but a remarkably fine, gray sand drawn from some unknown locale. It seems strange for something like this to be here, but you can see why the kobolds chucked it out with the rest.

The fourth is... it seems to be in pieces. A large arbalest, or bolt thrower, perhaps. It is disassembled and crated. Parts have rusted from the moisture but you can tell it was likely going to be shipped. You're not sure how the kobolds managed to bring this heavier machinery outside--it looks like it would take at least several strong men to lift it. Nearby is a case full of long poles--on closer inspection, they're 5 foot bolts for the machine. They'd likely do a massive amount of damage.

Vele approaches Atriox after a few minutes of letting him sift through the materials. "Anything useful to you?" She kind of bobs on her toes a little, excitedly anticipating good news. She's glad to please him. Tak watches nearby, rubbing an oil over his felldrake's dry scales. He snorts a little at her eager attitude, watching the dragonborn with irritation.

Atriox ignores her question and continues to shift through the found objects
(17 Investigation)

He decides to broach the subject of Tak to her.

"What are your opinions of Tak Fire-Scar Vele ? I saw you two watching each other earlier and I see that Tak is over there moping now. I want your honest opinions.

(Persuasion 15)

 Vele glances at Tak. He was watching you both and quickly looks away, swishing his tail in irritation.

She shrugs, looking back at Atriox. "He's mopey. The others find his scars unpleasant. They grumble sometimes. Tak is not a leader. But... he is trying, I suppose. They say he is better than he was, but I'm newer here. I can't be certain. Though, once in a while he disappears in the forest... Leaves me or Tepid in charge."

Atriox hears what Vele said but he's to busy eyeing the four artifacts he found. He looks over his shoulder at her

"Is there paper and something to write with here ? Surely you drew maps and such as you scouted the area ?"

She looks at you funny. "We usually go from memory only. No physical maps. But...Hold on."

Vele looks thoughtful. She bustles off for a few minutes, returning with a peeling of thin bark and some charcoal from the camp fire.

"This gets on our claws a lot. Will it work?"

Atriox thinks it over......

"It should be ok. Quick thinking Vele. Get me a few more thin pieces and then one big peice if you will."

She rushes off to do what he asks and as she does he writes a message to Blacksmith Axemage

(This is a War Weapon called a Scorpion. It's a type of Ballista. Please repare this and get it ready for battle my freind. I'm sure Ore the dwarf could assist you in this endeavor. There is no time to loose. If you find the time more ammo for it would be very helpful. I'll make sure your compensated for your efforts. P.S. I have a lead on your son of sorts. Dont loose hope my freind.)

When she comes back Atriox takes the other pieces of bark from her and gives her the one with the message.

"Give this to Tak tell him to have as many soldiers as he needs to lift this war machine and get it to the blacksmith in dragon shore. Tell him to give Axemage this note. Then come back to me. Go"

While she is away he casts his comprehend languages spell and begins to write a note in Orcish on the big peice of bark.

( I am speaking to the orcs of who's tribe these that I killed belong to. I wished you to know your breathern died and fought with savage ferocity. I was very impressed at how well of an enemy they made. It is due to there great battle prowess that I write this. I offer you a single chance at a higher calling. To fight all the battles you wish and have the certainty that you will win. Join my army, join my ranks and win glory and spoils beyond measure. I offer this only once. Join my army.....or die.

To the Orc Cheiftes I fought in the woods........ you did not know me. You did not know what forces you medled with. Know now. My name is Prince Atriox the Unbroken.

Dragonshore is a promised Territory of my new empire. As such I will protect Dragonshore to my dying breath. If we meet again I will not be so unprepared. My invitation is for you as well.You are all warned.) (Persuasion 14 Intimidation 19)


By the time Vele returns to Atriox his note is done. He looks at her

"Prepare a few of your men. As well as some scouts. You and I are going on an outing to do a job. We leave as soon as you and your men are able."

As they set out in the direction of white Burch forest where Atriox slaughtered the orcs with the help of Oxious. He picks up an unfinished conversation as he's not to worried about trouble with his men and scouts on the lookout.

"Vele. We were talking about Tak and your opinion of him earlier. I sensed some........unease between the two of you. This saddens me truly. I think you two could make a great team. I would like to share something with you if I may ? As much as I was born a prince, even though my sires and grand sires before them were kings and queens......that is not what makes me a leader. Leaders are made NEVER born. Tak has come a long ways from when I met him. He was lost, hurt and broken, his family gone. Now he is a member of my house. Do you know why ? Because I deeply respect him. He would love nothing more to kill the soldiers and people of Dragonshore or at least that was true at one point. But instead giving into those whims he held himself in check. He hurt no one. He protected the people of Dragonshore to make it possible for your people to have a future here. He hunted and killed most of the Goblins. He has defended me when all my other freind abandoned me.

He has shown courage, discipline, restraint, thoughtfulness and compassion. No leader is perfect as you will find out Vele." (Persuasion 14)

 Vele looks thoughtful. "I suppose that's true. Tyranus was not perfect either." She focuses on the road ahead. "And he has shown... Growth."

She looks up at Atriox. "We do work together though. At least we have started to. I send trap designs to him, and coordinate troop rotations."

Atriox nods in approval

"That's good to hear. I need you two on the same side, plus I think you two will come to appreciate each other in tine. Now let's get to the site if the massacre as quickly as possible. I do not wish to remain out in the open."

You and your group make it to the forest by late afternoon. Evening is coming on fast. The smell of the dead catches your nose long before you find the bodies. The kobolds chase away a carrion crawler eating one of the corpses, skewering it through the head.

Atriox growls remembering the fight and how they took Oxious. Ignoring the smell of death he orders the kobolds about giving them they're assigned jobs.....none if them to pleasant.

By the time everything is done the orcs are dismembered. There parts all strewn about to make a bloody scene. All except the dead orc commander which Atriox handles himself. He puts the dead commander in the middle of the clearing. Staging it so that the commander sits up right on his knees. Knowing the dead orc would probably fall over he puts a sword sticking out of the ground handle up right behind the orc and impales it through the orcs back slightly. He puts his big note around the commanders neck as a sign and then has his kobolds make a ring of orc heads around the commander. Lastly he wants to make sure that the orcs know where to look. He orders a ring of firewood made all around the clearing and then sets it ablaze making a ringed signal fire all around the massacre that orcs cant ignore.

Once it's done he looks to Vele

"Come when need to get out of here and we have some scouting to do before we head home. I had thought the orcs over by the Stonbreak mountains but......if there were some many in this forest including the cheiftes.......then they must be hiding somewhere much much closer."

Atriox looks at White Birch Mountain and they move out

The kobolds follow after, bloody and sneering with delight. They all seem rather ecstatic over the turn of events. Butchering up their kills or the carcasses of others seems to be a favored pastime, and they are scarily efficient at it... Vele is the only one who's more focused on the tasks ahead rather than the gore, prepping some of her traps as you walk together in the moonlight.

The others scout around the mountain base and through the forest. You hear interesting reports back ranging from the corpse of some great rotting snake, to several dozen booted footprints of orcs, to traps set in the woods with vines and ropes, and finally, a few orcs have been seen patrolling up along the ridge of White Birch Mountain. Their shadows stark against the stone, it's definite proof that there are forces here with which you must deal with. Especially if their leader is here.

Bringing your troops back with you proves an interesting endeavor. Once outside of the forest and on the way toward Dragonshore, you show them a very specific area where you would like to set up trenches and underground traps. You have a battle plan and wish to use everything you can to your advantage. The kobolds seem excited and Vele's mind is awhirl with ways to make the area more deadly for your enemies.

It takes quite a trek to return back to the temple. The kobolds seem equally tired and switch out with the patrols for the evening. Now close to midnight, you drag your exhausted body into the entry hall, past the healing pool and to your chair. You sink down into it, practically collapsing. Eyes heavy, you almost don't notice Vele coming to sit nearby. She's brought in more curled, thin pieces of bark. Glancing over at you every now and then, the inventor jots down her ideas and pictures onto the makeshift paper.

You sink into sleep.

Eventually, Vele crawls onto your lap. She is tentative and careful not to wake you, and for some reason desires to rest nearby.  She curls up into a ball, her head tucked down between her arms and her tail wrapped around her. Tak, finally returning from his mission at near to two in the morning, drops his gear by the door. He drinks from the fountain, strips off his helmet and breast plate, and wanders over. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees Vele sleeping with his friend. Awash with irritation and jealousy, but... too tired to do anything rash, he grumbles and climbs up in your lap as well. He wraps himself around one of your arms, tucked away like an egg.

You dream. Everything is a haze as if you are walking in a thick mist. A forest surrounds you. Trees drip dew, and ghosts of children laugh as they flit through the branches.

Their laughter turns demonic. The dripping dew turns red, blood now pouring from the bark and the leaves in ribbons of crimson. The Taker. The name repeats itself as each child ghost is devoured by the darkness.

That darkness becomes... You. You soar above the mundane. You crave... Flesh. Blood. You scramble, faster, faster, hoping to catch your prey.

---

Etny...

You've traveled for some time back through the forest, considering all that's happened. The talks did not go quite how you would have liked. You had wished to have them in the temple, but... the oppressive presence of Einhycacht, their smell, their eyes on you, was almost more than you could bear. It made things more difficult than you'd imagined. Flashes of your dream, of your past, keep flitting through your mind. The shadows make your skin crawl. Even in the peaceful forest, the noise of the birdsong and insects abuzz around you... you feel like you're not alone.

Arriving back in town you shiver a little at the sight of more Einhycacht. A few hundred of them digging trenches, building defenses around Dragonshore... it felt so strange to watch. Were they going to turn on the people? Were they really going to help? You can sense the unease of the townsfolk. Many, like you, hate the kobolds. They had caused trauma for some time, killing and raiding and harassing travelers on the roads. Healing would take time... but could time fix wounds that deep?

You spot Zeed and Tank, the strange aarakocra and minotaur that have worked with Atriox, nearby the kobolds. They seem to be keeping the peace with the humans, trying to mediate a bit of the hostility. They're a good pair to do that. Bitey sits atop a building nearby, watching. His presence alone makes people a little uneasy to do anything risky. One kobold seems to be leading a training group, letting soldiers and kobolds work alongside one another. Again... it is strange. Unnerving. You shiver and make your way back to the Dragon's Lair Inn.

You have plans for how to move forward. You are a warrior of the Andraya.

Etny remembers her travels across the globe well--every last league is catalogued in her mind.  Her previous ventures still fresh in her mind, as if they'd happened just the day before, she ponders on what to do next.  Of course, it had been months since those adventuring days. 

Reflecting on her journey thus far, Etny thinks on one thing in particular:  The Komodori Desert, and the Silent City of Deheath.  It was there that she had found a grand treasure hoard in a particularly dangerous dungeon, and had made efforts to stash and store as much of it as she could.  It was well hidden, and protected--at least, she figured as much, what with all of the various traps she had set near the hoard's hiding place and all.  Regardless, Etny thinks hard on this matter.

Does she really want to acknowledge Atriox as prince?  Does she really want to see his kingdom grow, what with all the Einhycacht in the area, she is thoroughly torn.  After the disaster that was the 'peace talks,' she realizes that something's got to give.  She recognizes that she has probably been in the wrong, being very stubborn and hard-headed.  After the prince gave his 'terms,' she realized something:  that he was trying.  He was trying his best, despite all the odds against him.  Only succeeding in exacerbating the situation, Etny realizes that she can't afford to make an enemy out of him.  There are bigger things going on that are much more pressing than a political dispute.  She must act, and she must act quickly and shrewdly to forge a more lasting peace with the prince. 

But what to do?  Honoring his harsh terms, she cannot seem to draw any conclusion that will lead to her being killed trying to interact with him directly.  She can't just waltz into the temple and ask for pardon--the time for interpersonal interactions has passed, and there is almost nothing she can do about it.

Unless...

Etny straightens up, an idea forming in her mind.  In her tribe and culture, it was often permissable for one tribe member of status to send an epistle--a formal missive or message on parchment--to another in times of political strife, when interpersonal meetings weren't possible any further.  That's it!  She would draft a formal epistle to the prince, find an Einhycacht to deliver it, and strive for a more lasting peace.

Etny realizes that she will have to put her misgivings, hostilities, resentment, and personal feelings aside.  She has thus far only achieved driving a grand rift between herself and Atriox.  She must acknowledge his royalty; she must acknowledge his honor; she must put petty grievances behind her, if she wants to actually reach the prince.  It's the only way. 

It is settled in her mind:  she will draft a formal epistle of apology, acknowledgement, and suing for lasting peace. 

Etny smiles to herself then, feeling that she just might have some leverage with the prince in certain matters, particularly when it comes to a certain hoard...

Etny, now seated at the small desk in her room, a long parchment in front of her, a quill, and ink before her, begins to draft her epistle.  With a flourish, and with careful strokes of the quill, she starts drawing the powerful, intimate, and parabolic runes of the formal draconic tongue.

"Dresig (Behold)!  I, Etny, of Clan Elvenbridge, of the Tribe of Andraya, in the Great Land of Sossahl, do make mine epistle to Atriox, Lord and Prince of Skyhold.

Behold!  I do make mine epistle as an offering and suing for peace; as an acknowledgement of power and royalty of the Great Prince; as a plain and true missive suing also for deepest pardon of the Great Prince of Skyhold hmiself.

Dresig (Behold)!  It shall come to pass, that in the coming moons, there shall be great strife and calamities that have heretofore never been witnessed by the eyes of man, dragon-kin, and all living, free folk.  What these calamities are, and from whence they have and shall come, it is not known.  Nevertheless, Jennu Ir (Great One), it is not something that can be reasonably put past the mind, or the pass the ire of the vigilant and watchful.

Dresig (Behold)!  I do make mine epistle to thee, Atriox Wanotreyx (Prince Atriox), as a missive of deepest desire for pardon, I do write.  I do so write unto thee, Atriox Wanotreyx, as a contrite, repentant soul.  I make admission to my faults in this mine epistle unto thee, Jennu Ir.  I Etny Elvenbridge, do confess to my haughtiness, and my stubbornness.  I do confess to my blatant insults, made to thine honor and royalty through blood.  I do confess to thee mine anger, and mine own contrivances to grievance.  I do confess to thee mine unwarranted and unfounded resentment.  I do confess to thee the transgression of naming thee in my native tongue "Arach," or liar.  Thou, Prince, dost not lie.

Dresig (Behold)!  If it pleases the Wanotreyx, I offer a suing for deepest pardon of the abundance of mine own faults, mine own transgressions and insults to the Crown of Skyhold.  May Jennu-hath (His Greatness) find within his heart to forgive mine trespasses to him, and thus begin a more abundant and lasting Martivir (Peace) between us.

Dresig (Behold)!  I do make mine epistle to Atriox Wanotreyx, Jennu Ir Skyhold (The Great One of Skyhold), to endeavor to Martivir (Peace), the penultimate design of all free beings.  As Thou hast laid forth thine terms, I, Etny Elvenbridge, do honor those terms to the fullest of mine capacities, that neither one jot nor tittle shall not pass away of said terms, that shall be fulfilled to their utmost. 

Dresig (Behold)!  I do make mine epistle unto Atriox Wanotreyx, to amend the honor and royalty that is possessed by one of noble blood and stature.  Thou hast done honor unto thy name.  Thou hast done unto all beings great and marvelous deeds of renown and true justice.  Thou hast protected those who would scorn thee.  Thou hast forged just alliances and designs for the growth of thy Jennu Zanuenisal (Great Kingdom).  Thou hast shown thy worth and thy kingship through honorable deeds of self-sacrifice and just treatment of those around thee.  Thou hast truly shown thine honor, beyond the highest praise.  Thou art truly honorable, as Wanotreyx, and as a fellow enlightened being.

Dresig (Behold)!  I make mine epistle to Atriox Wanotreyx, Jennu Ir Skyhold.  I desire peace between us.  Petranas (Please)...si drekik di wux (I beg of you)...onelka ve (forgive me).  I have been blind, and deaf to the warnings you have set, and it is only now that I am striving for that which should have been striven for far before now.  Nevertheless, mine epistle unto thee doth give utterance to my desires.  Martivir (peace) must be established in order for your kingdom to thrive, and my tribe to claim its place in the world.  I plead with thee, and beg thee, Jennu Ir, to find it in thy proud and royal heart to seek Martivir.  Wilt thou have peace between us, for it is my greatest desire.

Dresig (Behold)!  I do make mine epistle unto Atriox Wanotreyx, to have Martivir between us.  True Martivir.  As proof of this, I wish to grant unto thee a boon of sorts that will aid in thy designs to rebuild thy Zaneunisal Jennu (Great Kingdom).  Dresig (Behold)!  I have attached to this mine epistle a gift--a parcel of sorts--that will bring great glory to thy name, and to thy kingdom.  Dresig (Behold)!  A gem of the sun!  It is simple, yet desirable, and has many great qualities to it.  I give unto thee a tale of my many travels in this world, across oceans and leagues of land.  In a faraway place, on a desert land, in a great sea of sand, I found an abandoned city, wherein a great oubliette was found.  Within said dungeon, I did find, to my great astonishment, a hoard of exotic treasures, precious stones, and artifacts beyond count.  Whether said hoard belonged to someone, or something, I knew not.  I have stowed away much of that hoard in a secret place on the desert land, in the dead city.  I, of myself, have no use for such trinkets and baubles, but thou, and thy burgeoning kingdom hath need of such.  Wilt thou accept this mine offering, Wanotreyx Jennu, as proof of my sincere contrition?

Dresig (Behold)!  I do make an end of mine epistle of Martivir (peace), recompense, and an offering unto thee, Atriox Wanotreyx Jennu.  Let it be known, on this day, in this hour, that I seal this mine epistle with the seal and symbol of my tribe of Andraya.  Let it forever bind this document until it is broken by the royal hands of Atriox Wanotreyx.  May this epistle find its design in thy hads, Jennu Ir.

Dresig (Behold)!  I make an end!

Nomag Skyhold vur Wanotreyx Jennu Tuka Malrak,

Etny Elvenbridge, Huntress of Andraya"

Etny finishes the last of the draconic runes, completing the formal epistle.  With a flare, she signs her own name beneath the last of the runes. 

Etny understands Atriox's position, probably more than most.  He, like her, has lost everything, everyone.  She now understands what she must do. 

Etny carefully, delicately, deliberately rolls the long parchment up, and, taking candle wax, seals the official document with the official seal of the Andraya.  She then removes the circlet from her forehead, and with some straining, carefully pushes the precious glinting stone out of the center of the coronal.  With a silent prayer to the All-Mother, Etny ventures out of the Dragon's Lair Inn, and makes her to through town.  She looks for a kobold--a messenger--to deliver this epistle of peace to the prince. 

(15 Investigation around town to find a kobold to deliver the message.)

(22 persuasion to at least show the prince she is serious, and to give him good cause to at the very least, consider her words, and think about them.)
(I don't want to immediately convince the prince, lol!)

Etny, you head out hoping to find someone to deliver your message. Knowing many of the kobolds are up near the entrance of town (most aren't allowed through on Cere's orders, at least not in massive groups by the request of many citizens) you head to the end of the block. You spot Bitey sitting up on the rooftop still. He spots you and smiles down with a leering grin. You feel a little un-nerved by the stare he gives you.

The kobolds are practicing drills, trading off with diggers working around the edges of the city. Trenches are growing each day, and you're a little taken aback by how tenacious these beasts really are. A few spot your approach and grin with pointed teeth. One or two laugh like wild dogs. They earn a sharp smack on the head from their leader, a taller, leaner kobold with piercing eyes. He whirls his javelin around and plants it in the ground, stalking toward the huntress.

In sharp undercommon he speaks, tilting his head to the side and looking up at you like a bird might. "What need, soft skin? Train?"

Etny eyes the kobold, her nerves tingling, her fingers itching for the bowstring, but she quells the urge as quickly as it comes.  In perfect, fluent Draconic, Etny addresses the kobold. 

"Servant of Atriox Wanotreyx, I have a missive to deliver to him.  It is a formal epistle of utmost importance.  Attached also is a boon, or gift, or proof of my honor to him.  He will understand.  I require it in his hands as soon as possible.  Is this something you could do for me?  I am not permitted to walk in his camp, and thus, I am unable to speak directly to him.  Such are his terms, and thus will I honor them.  Will you deliver this for me?"

She presents the rolled up epistle, with a small sack tied to it, the gemstone from her circlet enclosed within.

He blinks, otherwise not moving a muscle. His eyes dart from the scroll to your face again. You hear some heavier footfalls and turn to see Tank, the minotaur, approaching with a bucket of water. He looks tired from training all day, finally happy that night has fallen. "Darr, you helping the lady? Hello lady." He smiles at Etny. "She help with dragon, that what they say at tavern."

The kobold Darr glances between Tank and Etny now. It seems he became aware of your challenge of Atriox, and is debating what he should do. Snatching the things from you he feels the bag, sensing the stone inside. He sniffs the paper. "No funny stuffs, beastskin." He points at Tank. He walks off to retrieve his javelin and twirls it about with a flourish. Grabbing one of the other kobolds near the end of the row, he explains to him. Within seconds the little creature is off into the night with the epistle.

Returning to the training group, Darr gives a firm nod to Etny and Tank. The minotaur chuckles, a little shyly around the pretty huntress. "They not so bad. At least when they not try to eat Zeed and me. They ate our horse. But they nice now." He puts the bucket in your hands. "You thirsty?"

Etny turns to the large minotaur, smiling a little at his offer.  "Oh, no thank you, I'm fine.  Sooooo...Tank is it?  I've heard about you from some of the others who you've traveled with."  She turns to him, offering her hand.  "I'm Etny," she says, "and I'm working to make...things right between myself and the Prince...."  She trails off, not knowing what else to say.

 He chuckles kind of awkwardly. Taking your hand he gives it a very mighty shake that you feel through your whole body. "That's good. We tried beat him up too. Ha, almost. He knocked me down. I think. Or I tripped. I don't remember." He scratches his head, his horns tipping to the side. "It was a fun fight. Surprising. Then Zeed tells us, hey the big lizard wants to pay us to fight for him. It's nice. Zeed always wanna do that. Do good stuff. Just ends up bad. Ya know." He takes the bucket back and tips it back, draining half of it in one go. Water dripping down his fur, he gulps in a big breath of air when he's done. "Aaah, don't say I told yous. He get mad at me. You nice though, glad we work together."

"Thank you, Tank, you're a good soul.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."  She rests a hand on his arm, and pats him there.  "Sooo...you knocked the Prince down, did you?  Well, so did I!  Except...," she mutters, "It wasn't such a fun fight.  There was...a lot of animosity between us...still is, but I'm trying to fix that, now.  Maybe belatedly..."

She turns away, and starts making her way through town.  Looking back over her shoulder, she says to Tank, "Take care!  I hope things continue to go so well for you.  All-Mother willing, you have a good one.  As for me," she flashes him a bright grin, "I hunt!"

Tank looks rather enamored. He chuckles, waving after you with the bucket. "Good hunting!"

(Where would you like to go hunt? Would you like to check your camp's traps, hunt in a new area (it is night time), or set snares?)
(Not Tanglewood, cuz I got Area 51-ed...as in I ain't allowed in that place!  LOL!  Let me check/set my traps and snares in Birchwood.)
(Sounds good, haha. OH! Also, the map shows Birchwood in  very small spot.. I actually figure it's grown up about 3-5x that size, closer to the mountain range too.)
(Okiedoke!  Come morning time, I'd like to start hunting.)
(Okay, so for my traps, what should I do?  What kind of roll should I make to set/re-set them?)

(Roll 3 survival checks for me. Tell me all the numbers)
(Here goes:  13, 15, 14)
(Now roll a 1d10 3 times)
(here gooooes! 2, 8, 5)

You take an hour or so to walk back to your old camp. It's a peaceful walk, albeit strange to return. The lingering memories and emotions here feel a bit sickening, but comforting at the same time. The fire is cold and the old stew has rotted, mostly devoured by the bugs of the forest. You smell something strange, and following your nose you across the sweetly foul carcass of the wild bear. You can tell through the decomposition that it had been heavily injured by a few axe blows. You know instantly it was Oredion who tackled this beast to protect you.

Aside from the bear, you do come across a few of your other traps that were tripped. You find a rabbit in one, struggling with a snare around its foot. The skin has rubbed almost raw from trying to escape and it puts up very little fight as you dispatch it. Another rabbit was caught nearby, perhaps several days ago... at least you find what was left of it. It seems to have died and been devoured by birds. In one cage trap you also find a weasel with very fine fur. It hisses and spits as you approach. Other than these your other traps are either undisturbed, or set off with no sign of struggle. Except for one... it looks like someone was tangled in a rope trap on one of the outer roads, and then cut down using the hidden vine... Scanning the ground you can see a medium sized shoe print track and another track of.... dragonborn claw marks.

---

 Oredion...

You follow after Etny at a distance. The entirety of the talks left you... conflicted. Enraged. Your eye burns with fury, but you know Etny needed to have her peace with the dragonborn. Your arm pangs with discomfort... After the fight with the strange serpentine worm in the forest, perhaps there are more common enemies that you all share... regardless, you long to sink your axe into something.

Joey flits in and out of your beard sensing your emotions. He's mostly dark red at the moment, his eyes a slightly lighter shade of pink. Little flickers of blue and green glimmer along his sides and tail and he sneaks you small kisses. He seems to recognize your distress.

Despite everything going on in your head and in your heart, you do feel strange. A pressure in your body. Similar to how your rage builds before a battle, but... different at the same time. It feels more uncontrolled. Unbridled. Something under the surface of your skin that itches and hungers. It almost feels like you have a fever. You can't quite understand this new feeling yet. You look at Etny again, gripping the large bear claw necklace with your hand.

Oredion turns away from Etny not quite sure what to do with his rage, but knows drinking would not help the situation currently. He feels pangs of pain in his arm and grips it tightly with his good hand. He looks down at Joey and starts to pet the upset salamander. He whispers loud enough for only Joey to hear.

"Sorry little buddy... We'll get it threw this, besides were used to it just being the two of us."

He continues petting the little salamander watching him change colors. Oredion tries to think of somewhere to go knowing he either needs to beat something or find somewhere to relax. He thinks back to the calming pools of the Fang and decides to go relax instead of cause trouble. He motions to Joey in a whisper.

"Feel like another swim?"

Oredion chuckles remembering the salamanders fun when he was there. He watches Joey turn back to his normal colors and start to wiggle excitedly. They both set of to the Fang.

 Making it to the building by late afternoon, you enter in and find the smell of the food and the pools relaxing. It is a rather nice little spa, regardless of the many services it seems to offer. The half dragonborn Dahlia sees you and waves.

"Hello again Oredion. How are you fairing today?" She looks over your healing cuts and bruises, and eyes your broken arm. "Been in a bit of trouble, have we?"

"Just enough to have a bit of fun lass. I've came to relax at the pools today. Hopefully they soothe my broken arm a bit."

Oredion chuckles and looks around admiring the scenery.

You spot several other patrons relaxing for the evening. A few orcs, a ranger, and it seems Zeed stopped by again for the night. Most people are either engaged in conversation or eating. The servers are quite kind, attending to the visitors with very polite words and gentle touches. You do spot a rather fair looking dwarven woman busing plates back to the kitchen. She catches your gaze and gives you a wink before she disappears.

Dahlia chuckles. "Of course, Ore. We're happy to let you relax." She glances over her shoulder at the head matron's door. "Considering the recent events and what's happened... And your help with the dragon and all... don't worry about the coin. I'll cover it." She smiles and hands you a towel then pokes Joey on the snout. "I hope it helps with your arm."

Oredion chuckles as Joey runs back into his beard after being poked.

"Thank ya lass much appreciated."

He waves goodbye to Dahlia and walks towards the pools. He finds a nice spot in the corner clear of any people under some magical trees. He undresses carefully not wanting to bump is broken arm and have iy flair up with pain again. He sets is discarded cloths in a pile and goes to get into the pool carefully, before he even dips a toe in Joey shoots out of his beard and cannonballs into the pool. Oredion chuckles at his little friends antics and follows suit by getting in wether quickly with a large splash as he falls sideways. He chuckles and sets up out of the water. He wipes the water off of his face and sits back against the wall. He leans his head back and closes his eyes trying to relax. He sees no flash's of horror or his vision. He just sees a green mist that grows thicker the longer he has his eyes closed.

Joey swims around in circles, flicking his tail like a little rudder. He thoroughly enjoys the water despite being a salamander. Periodically ducking under the surface, he blows bubbles and small jets of hot water for fun.

After a while you feel a tap on your shoulder. The green mist parts as your vision fades back into focus. Looking up you see the dwarven woman from earlier. She has a cheery smile and rosy cheeks, her long hair pulled back into a tightly woven bun. "Hiya sweetheart. Compliments of the head matron." She holds up a bottle of ale and a plate of fruit, meats and cheeses. Setting them down beside you she smiles at the little salamander swimming in his lazy circles. "Anything special for the little guy? Or anything else I can get you?"

"This should be more then enough doll. Tell your matron thanks for me."

Oredion takes a piece of cheese and breaks it on half on the side of the pool for Joey. He motions him over to eat, while he grabs a piece of meat and starts to eat.

"Sure thing handsome." She gives you another playful wink, waves to Joey, and heads back out. The food and drink are rather delicious despite their simplicity. Something about the magical air of this place seems to add a flavor to everything. It's a little intoxicating.

The salamander swims over happily, attacking the cheese with a very aggressive vigor. He chomps down little pieces, chasing after bits that fall into the water. All in all he's a very happy little Joey, enjoying this quality time with his friend.

Your arm feels soothed being in the healing water. Just being able to relax in general is incredibly nice. There's been too much trouble lately with rogue monsters and uncomfortable conversation. A good, straightforward battle sounds pleasant.

An elf slips into the water nearby sipping a glass of wine. He waves at a few of the matrons, a cocky sort of smile on his face. He seems to radiate a highborn aura. Glancing your way, he looks at Joey and chuckles. "A prismatic salamander? I didn't know they could be found outside of Radhal... you must be a traveler. The name is Virion. Virion Valnala." He holds his hand out to shake yours, a relaxed smile on his lips.
Oredion looks him up and down and nods ignoring the highborns handshake.

"Yeah, yeah what ya want bud. Don't you see I'm trying to relax."

Oredion leans his head back chewing on a piece of meat and closes his eyes again ignoring the elf.

The elf raises his eyebrows. Exhaling a little, he withdraws his hand and nonchalantly takes another drink of his wine. "Just thought I'd compliment you on your little creature there. I study rare species for a living. He's a little small for his kind, but he seems to be very well cared for." Leaning back against the wall of the pool he swirls the wine in his glass.

Oredion cracks one eye open letting out a green flame in irritation.

"Thanks I guess."

Oredion motions under water for Joey to stay near to him. Not trusting this elf a bit, but to relaxed to tell him to go away.

He shrugs, taking another drink. Joey flicks his tongue out at the elf before swimming back over to Oredion. He crawls up the dwarf's arm and up onto his head, nesting right on top.

 The elf runs a hand through his short black hair. "I didn't mean any offense, dwarven friend. I'm sure you know all about your salamander.... my apologies if I seemed haughty on the subject. I merely find prismatic tendencies in the draconic lines to be a rather... interesting area of study." His eyes focus on you, a rather strange shade of purple. "Some subspecies seem to carry traits of the fabled prismatic dragons. Hypnotic patterns, for instance." He crosses his legs and takes another drink.

Oredion opens his eyes, his interest slightly peaked.

"I apologise for my blunt behavior. I... I am not in the best of moods today."

He leans forwards to listen to the elfs talk of his friend.

 A small smirk crosses the elf's face but it passes into a more gentle expression in an instant. "It's fine. We are all here to relax, I understand. Has your salamander ever cycled through colors before? Rapidly, twisting, perhaps? It's often a sign of emergency or danger, and can often charm others. It's a very intriguing defense."  He signals for a waitress to come by to refill his glass. "It's not often well documented because of, well...the charming effect. Hard to remember after it's happened. You might just suddenly wake up in a different place, or feel like you've had a vague dream about such a creature. Thank you dear...." His cup filled, he takes another drink.

"You being an owner of one may have more experience with it since you've been around him more. Or her... hard to tell without checking." He eyes the salamander on your head. Joey flicks his tongue out again.

Oredion eyes the elf not sure on his attentions with Joey. He decides to think of the worst case scenario of the elf trying to steal Joey. Oredion grabs Joey from his head and gently places him deep into his beard to not be seen by the elfs eyes. He looks at the elf questionly.

"My friend Joey here is male and he does not change colors. I can not say I'm not intrigued by your tale of his species. Tell me more if you will. I would like to know all I can about my friend. Do include his relative species as well."

Oredion sets back and  eyes the elf closely not wanting to miss any sudden movement on his part.

(Deception 18+3)

 Virion chuckles. "No need to be so nervous. It's alright if you don't know everything about him yet. He's still relatively juvenile looking, despite his smaller than average size. More will come in time."

He takes another drink, thinking about what he knows. "There's definitely a difficulty in finding saladramandic prismagica... prismatic salamanders... Oftentimes they live in the Underdark, down where their bodies emit beautiful displays of color. It attracts their prey."

The elf nods to the plate of cheese with a smile, his violet eyes flashing. "Granted he must dine like a king with you. No need to hunt quite like that on the surface. But it may have changed his growth. Not eating what he traditionally eats."

He takes another sip. "The saladramandic subspecies of draconic blood is an interesting one. It branches into dozens of variants. The prismagica branch is very rare but they are all amphibian in nature, akin to the sea dragons but like unto the kuo toa. They can regenerate lost limbs, if one is severed by a predator... Something comes along to eat its tail, and whoop..." He smiles, "It grows back good as new. As newts--the young I mean--they carry many tetrotoxins in their blood. But the older ones lose the toxin and can be quite delicious. To... beasts of the Underdark." He chuckles. "Like I said I'm a bit of an expert."

Oredion chuckles blandly.

"Do tell me about the ones that change color. I feel I have come by one or two where I grew up."

 The elf moves so he is sitting across from Oredion and better able to engage in conversation. "The kind you have here is a delicacy in the Underdark. If they can be caught to raise they are, but their hypnotic patterning makes farming difficult." He shrugs. "In the wild they eat Horakh larvae, spidery beasts that hunt more sentient creatures for their eyes. They actually keep the populations of Horakh to a much safer level, so disturbing them for farming sake is a rather dangerous endeavor."

He finishes off his second cup of wine, wiping his lips with his thumb. "As they grow they often develop ridges along their spine. They gain new colors, always variants of a prism. Red, green, blue, and so forth... They can flatten their bodies and their tails to make their hypnotizing effect even more noticeable."

"Ah, I see. I have a weird question for ya? What if one of those salamanders turns gold? What does it mean? I saw one turn gold when I was but a wee lad and have been wondering ever since."

Oredion chuckles and tilts his head to the side. He hopes he'll finally get to the bottom of why Joey turned gold.

(Deception 16+3)

 The elf looks taken aback. "Gold? Where'd you see one that turned gold?" He strokes his chin, a very quizzical look in his eyes. "The ones in both life and lore are only recorded as changing to prismatic colors, not metallic. It might be a special branch..."

He stands, fetching a towel and making his way over to a nearby table with an ornate satchel. He retrieves a book full of notes, flipping through the pages. The book seems bound in a strange leather with many pressed and dyed stones in the cover. "Hmm... Metallic traits... how queer..." Virion has a noticeable limp in his right leg as he paces. "Prophetic wyrms are often said to have eyes that turn gold, usually when in the use of an Augury or Divination magic. Cryptic omens are the norm with those... But for a small beast... perhaps you were mistaken. Being a child at the time after all, our imaginations can run away from us. It may have been a yellow or orange color, perhaps... or a flickering between them, causing a shine. Oh, or it could have been wet." He closes the book and takes a seat, obviously still pondering.

"Sure... Must have been my dwarven sight..."

Oredion stands up and gets out of the pool trying to find his clothes but there gone. He wraps the towel around himself and walks over to the buffet table looking at all the options and decides he's good. He takes a seat in the corner of the room wondering where his clothes are.

 The elf stays where he is at, giving a half-hearted goodbye. He seems very caught up in his own thoughts, scribbling down notes in his book with a strange ink.

Now that you're inside, you spot the dwarven server again. She's bustling by with a basket on her shoulder. "OH! There you are, sir. Cleaned your things for you." She drops off his clothes on the table, all neatly washed and folded. She handles the heavier gear with ease, seemingly stronger than she lets on. Adjusting the basket she smiles. "Hope I didn't worry you none, we regularly do laundry for guests. I have more to hand out but if I forgot anything let me know."

"Thank ye kindly mam. I won't stop ya from getting back to your work."

Oredion looks over his clothes inspecting that everything's there. Once he sees it's all there he starts to put it all on. He can't help but be impressed at his trench coat. It was torn to shreds yet they sewed on other materials to make it whole. Once he's all dressed he waves a farewell to the elf and decides to head back to the inn.

 You arrive back at the Inn, greeted by Jannae as usual. Several others here hail you, inviting you to come sit or party with them. Your drinking games have become infamously legendary, someone even having carved your name into the table you performed the contest. Several other winners' names are carved there, along with initials of past thugs, sailors and regulars.

Miss Applebrew brings you some of her hard apple cider as a surprise. With a smirk she pats your shoulder. "Holding up there?"

"Holding up as good as I ever do. Kinda in a weird mood here lately. Maybe it's about time for me to leave this place.. These people... Sorry not trying to be a downer. Thanks for the drink."

Oredion leans back and sips the apple cider gratefully. Thoughts pass his mind like a horde flooding his dreams.

Jannae nods. "That's understandable. People come and go here like the waves of the sea. Sometimes you just know the right time to set sail."

She gives Ore a smile. "We appreciate all that you've done for us. You're help here, and your kindness... It will never be forgotten."

"Thank ye. I won't be leaving just yet. I need to wrap up a few things around here in town and with a few comrades then I'm not sure... There's just to many speeches here for my liking."

Oredion let's out a loud chuckle and continues to drink even more. He feels a tad depressed in talking about leaving this place, but it just doesn't feel right to him. He thinks back to Atriox and his friends saving him from the goblins. He's grown fond of them, but he has repayed his debt in the slaying of his Allies enemy. He thinks about Alrik and how comforting he was at the fang when he broke down drunk. He will surely miss them all. His mind wonders to Etny and the necklace in his bag, but it quickly changes to his vision he had. He pushes the whole thing out of his mind not wanting to think about the huntress.

 Etny, you walk through the outskirts of town with your dispatched rabbit and weasel in tow. You've seperated the meat and the fur, knowing each holds a good little value. Tomorrow will be a better hunting day. You plan on tracking much... much bigger game.

Pushing open the doors you see it's rather busy tonight. Farmers have started flooding in. There is some celebration of harvest coming up and it sounds like they're plannning it out together.

You spot Ore sitting at a table chatting with Miss Applebrew.

Etny wanders into the Dragon's Lair Inn, and agree immediately spots Oredion and Janae. 

"Janae-dera, Oregon-elenn," she calls out over the din of the activity in the inn, her voice ringing clear.  She approaches the two of them, a smile growing on her face, especially at seeing her god Antrahtu friend again. 

Bounding up, she plants a sudden, heartfelt kiss on the top of the dwarf's head, and turns to Janae.  "Janae-dera, here are my catches for the day.  I know...they're not much, but I suppose it's a start."  She presents the rabbits and weasel to the bar keep.

Jannae looks pleasantly surprised. "Why thank you! I'll take them to the kitchen." Her smile grows a little as she glances between the two of you. She bustles off, leaving you both to relax.

Oredion mildly flustered chokes on part of his drink.

"Spleh... Cough cough... Jeez Et don't sneak up on a dwarf like that. Coulda damn well killed me."

He regains his composure and starts to laugh.

"So ya been hunting again. Help ya cool off some. Seems like your in a better mood."

Joey jumps out onto the bar and starts sipping some of the spilt cider.

Etny laughs brightly with her dwarven friend.  "How could I ever want to kill such a face as yours, elenn?  It is impossible!"  Etny sits down next to Oredion, and eyes him briefly.  "Elenn...I must apologize for being so far away this last day.  I have been...caught up in my own thoughts, and I have been trapped in my own mind.  Sometimes...," she looks away for a moment, but back at him, "...sometimes it just feels like I am in a cage in my own head.  There is a lot I am trying to work through, but I promise you, elenn, that I am always here to talk to you, and just...be here."  She gives him a knowing look and a gentle smile.  "But yes, I have been at the hunt, and I have thoroughly enjoyed it.  I have been just out of my wits not being able to hunt!  Nevertheless, I only caught some small game; nothing too big."

Oredion smiles quickly and then looks down at the table. He eyes his drink and gives it twirl.

"Good for you Et. It's always nice to get out and stretch your legs. As for the cage. I understand how you feel being trapped in one place much like a cage."

Oredion fiddles with his necklace a bit. He eyes Joey starting to turn a deep green. The salamander starts to wobble across the bar to a plate of food. He lets out a small hiccup  and dives face first into some cheese.

"Elenn," she says quietly, how have you been?  I feel," she pauses, thinking for a moment, "like I have been aloof and slightly distant from you as of late."

She looks down, slightly morose.  "I do not mean to be so removed, elenn, I just...I have had too many failures to count, lately, and I have harbored too many feelings of self loathing and bitterness.  I...I do apologize, Ore-elenn, for being so removed from you, and everyone, really."

"I understand Et, you don't need to explain it to me... I've just been going threw some stuff of my own here lately and... And after all is settled with the Dragonborn. I think I will be taking my leave of this place..."

Oredion stares at his drink, then quickly knocks it back.

"You're...you're leaving?  But why, elenn?"

Etny is quite a bit thunder struck by this news.  She had no idea the dwarf wanted to leave.

Etny ponders on what he said, trying to think of some way to convince her beloved dwarven friend to stay.

Was she being a little selfish, though?  It couldn't be helped.  She wasn't about to tell her dear friend to just stay, all because she merely wanted him to.

"It will not be soon, but I have put off finding my people's killers long enough. I will stay until everything is set right with the lizard. I do not mean to upset you Et."

Oredion waves the bar maid over for another drink. He glances at Etny, but avoids eye contact. He does not want to upset her for he has grown deeply fond of her, but his vision keeps popping up in the back of his head with her lifeless on the ground before the one with white eyes feet.

"Ore-elenn," she pleads, "if you must leave, even if it takes a while, I wish to go with you.  For I, too," she says forlorn and distant in thought, "wish to find my tribe's killers."

She rests a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, her violet eyes searching his.

Oredion looks down away from her gaze and thinks about his vision. He thinks to himself. "If she comes with she may die! If she doesn't I may never see her again." He looks back up into her eyes and can't help to be confused on what to say.

"I don't know Et... It may be to dangerous to bring you along. Besides don't you have things to take care of here. What about making peace with the Dragonborn?"

Oredion looks away and grabs his mug of beer the bar maid brought him. He starts to sip it as he glances around. He is not sure on what to do next. He quickly knocks back in mug of beer in irritation for not knowing what to do. He starts to feel angry and in rage, but his heart grows heavy with thought and sorrow.

Etny too grows sorrowful.  She is quiet for a time, thinking, and turns her gaze back to the dwarf.

"Oredion," she begins, "I have made the first steps toward making peace with the dragonborn, Atriox.  I sent him a long, detailed epistle--a missive--and related to him my desire for peace.  I know not if and when he will get back to me on things...I hope it is soon.  Whatever the case may be, it is now up to him.  I have done what I could now, for my part."

Etny looks away again.  She continues to speak.  "I have ventured and journeyed into much danger in my travels.  I am not unused to it."

"I understand that Et. Hell we slayed a dragon only weeks ago, but this... This is different. I may need to do this alone... Now let us enjoy this night. We have drink, food, and good company. What else could you ask for?"

Oredion looks away quickly a little embarrassed. He keeps a smile on his face, but he can feel his heart breaking at his tough decision. He sees a couple drinking buddies in the other side of the bar and decides to excuse himself quickly.

"Let us talk more of this later. I need attend to a drinking challenge."

Etny watches.  She watches her good friend, confidante, and partner leave.  She hears what he said.  She hears that he must go alone.  But she almost cannot bear it.  The overwhelming thought of never seeing this dwarf--this dear friend of hers--is almost too much.

She rises, stands, and leaves the Dragon's Lair Inn.  She leaves, because there is no reason to stay.  It almost feels just like back then, when her family was taken and her tribe destroyed.  Her heart sinks further and further. 

Her pace picks up as her heart continues to sink.  She knows Oredion wants to talk more about this, but she feels that it would only serve to further separate them even more. 

Her pace quickens to a jog, making her way through town.  Hot tears threaten to escape her eyes.  Etny is beginning to come to a certain understanding; she has been drawing it for the majority of her life up to this point:  She will always be alone.

Her jogging turns now to a dead run, her booted feet racing hard against the cobblestones.  The sobs come audibly as the tears streak down her face.  Just one more hole in her already broken heart that cannot be filled.

(Idk how they coming back from that... Should Oredion give chase?)
(Etny make a dex save)
(Hmmmm...go ahead.  It'll be neat to see what hap--dammit...Lol)
(13...bleh)

 The men see you heading their way and hail you. "ORE! Drink with us!" Many claps on your back welcome you to the table, almost dragging you in.

You almost don't notice where you're going, from the hot tears stinging your eyes and the cold night air tearing at your face.

You bowl right into the arms of a young man. He holds you tight to keep you from falling down. "A-are you okay miss? Are you being chased? What's wrong?" He looks around for any threats, kind brown eyes looking you over for injuries.

Etny splutters and stumbles, struggling to keep herself upright, while the young man holding her struggles to steady them both.

"No," she says, her voice choked up with emotion, "I am fine, and no one is chasing me.  Now, I must be away... I have...thinking to do..."

Etny makes to leave...

Oredion sees Etny leave our of the corner of his eye running out of the in and he quickly runs after her. He looks over his shoulder as he runs out and yells.

"Sorry fellas I'll drink you under the table next time!"

He Rush's out and runs after Etny, but she quickly outruns him and his dwarven legs.

(Athletics 16+7)
(Ore, make an investigation check)
17+6
(Nice xD

"Just be safe, miss." He hesitantly holds his hand out, watching you leave. He shrugs and turns away, continuing his walk.

You hear heavy footfalls behind you. Something familiar. You know Oredion has come to follow you, leaving the drinks behind.

Etny turns, and seeing Oredion running behind her, stops and faces him.  Tears still steam down her face. 

Her arms droop heavily to her sides, and she breathes heavily from running so hard. 

She looks at Oredion, a deep and pained look in her eyes.

"O-Oredion..."

"Why did you run lass?"

Oredion's walks up to her and places a gentle hand on her cheek. He sees her crying and his face fill with concern

"Why are you crying Et.."

Etny takes the dwarf's hand in hers and tries to be less weepy, but fails miserably.  She breaks down completely in front of the dwarf, feeling like an utter child. 

She sinks to her knees, and hugs Oredion.  "I've lost so much, e-elenn..."

Oredion hugs her tightly back and sadly says.

"Your not losing me Et... I... I won't let you be alone."

Oredion takes her hand and squeeze's it firmly, but gently. He has no idea how to handle this situation. He dosent no what else to say but he feels his heart thump faster the longer he holds her close.

Etny, kneeling down, hugging the dwarf, eventually calming down, she parts, resting both her hands on either of his shoulders.

  "I do not want to impede on your goals and designs, elenn, but...I want you to know....that I do not wish to leave you.  You are the one true friend and confidante that I have in this dismal world."

Oredion brushes both her hands off his shoulders and takes them in his own. He looks at her eyes and gets lost in thought. He knows he want her to come, but if she does she may die. He continues to look into her tear stained face and quietly says.

"Et... I've wanted to to join me on my journey this entire time... But after we were attacked in the woods. I... I had a vision while I was dreaming. I talked to my God, but there was so much more Et. I saw you dead on the ground before my foe's feet. Et I am scared... I do not wish to lose you. I know we met weeks ago, but I... Your very... Special to me to say the least."

Oredion looks away towards the side away from Etny's face. He does not know what else to say. He has gave her permission to accompany him. May it be for better or worse.

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