And So They Go - A Plan Unfolds - Part 3 (In Progress)

Etny has a fair night of sleep, only disturbed by flickers of thoughts and dreams. Lights, fire, a familiar booming laugh, and the smell of salt water. 

When you come downstairs, Elmeir is handing over his letters to a messenger at the door. It is another human who has moved into the lower cities of Skyhold, a young man lithe and nimble, a fast runner. You can hear a horse outside pawing at the ground and ready to move. Despite the use of magic nowadays, carried mail has still managed to stick around. 

The boy salutes and hurries off, and the cleric chuckles as he turns to you. "Good morning, miss. A stable hand came by to help with a horse for me and to ready your... Axebeak?" He tilts his head slightly, wondering if he is remembering correctly. "I've never set eyes on one being ridden before."

"Oh, Gaare?  She's not unfriendly to most people of a good countenance," she chuckles as she begins gathering items and accoutrements for the journey ahead.  "To ride an axebeak is like riding a two-legged horse with a pentient for stopping suddenly when they see a grub, or berries.  It can be a little strange, the gait of the animal at first, but one learns to ride with it instead of against.  Once trained for riding, they are expert racers."

She goes to a nearby wall, counting her arrows and wondering if she'll have enough for the journey.  You mentioned last night that Narder is a den of thieves?"

He shrugs, the two of you going outside to saddle up and start your journey. "It was built on one of the newer islands off the coast of Arkoshia. What eventually became the Nader Stronghold was hoped to help protect the surrounding cities from pirates and other sea monsters, but..." 

Gaare nuzzles your hand with her beak as she's geared up and you both make your way down the winding road that follows the rivers northeast. "It's become mixed in purpose since then..." Elmeir tries to find the right words. "It is both a harbor for pirates and protection from them. It's very neutral in it's dealings. As long as their is coin to be made, you can find someone to back it. A very chaotic democracy."

His pale gray horse lets out a whinny. Gaare is prancing about, excited to go on a ride with you again.

"Chaos," Etny remarks, "isn't the absence of order completely, but the defiance of it, I'd say.  If they thrive on such a thing, then we must be fluid as this river before us.  Do we have any coin?"  She checks her satchel, wondering if any of the paltry pieces she's had on her will suffice.  She looks up at Elmeir and smiles reassuringly.  "Come, my friend," she mounts Gaare, "let us ride!"

You travel most of the day, with only a short stop to fill up on water and refresh the mounts. It is a winding journey heading out of the smaller Arkoshian mountain range. The forests thicken and thin in places, and you cross many a glade and pasture. The further you get from the mountain, the more farmland you see. It is peaceful country out here; gentle, quiet and serene, sheltered in the watchful embrace of the sentinel-like peaks.

You approach the edge of a small birch wood at dusk. During the entire ride, Elmeir has been explaining the surrounding peoples and lands. It seems in his time as a soldier and a cleric, he has familiarized himself with the little blooming homes and townships as if they were a garden of flowers. 

"This wood here skirts around a very small hamlet. Willowsbark, I believe, at least the last time I passed by here. Regalia Meadows, she makes a fantastic pie. Her husband served in another branch with me for a time.  There used to be an infestation of rocs that would fly in from the cliffs yonder. Would take the sheep and smaller calves." 

Elmeir unbridles his horse, showing a rather closely bonded care with the animal despite having just met the mare today. He nuzzles his head against hers, cooing and rubbing her ears and mane with his fingers. 

You can see the farmland stretches on and on, dotted with sheep and cattle, wildflowers and rabbits. Everything feels good and free. Except...

You spot a farmer about a quarter of a mile away, scratching his head. He stands over an animal unmoving on the ground--perhaps a sheep, you think, it's hard to tell from this distance.

Etny, having been taking in as much as she can from Elmeir, holds up a hand, and makes a subtle gesture directing his attention to the confused farmhand.  "Let us see if we can help him in some way," she whispers.  Mounting Gaare once more, she beckons for Elmeir to follow.  Once mounted, the two approach the stricken farmer, and Etny calls out, "Oleah!  Hie, hie, farmhand!  What has got you so stricken?"

They move closer, and Etny dismounts Gaare, approaching the man on foot.  "How can we help?"

The farmer glances up, surprised at your approach. "Oh, hello! Not oft seeing other people out this way. Well..." He looks down again at the slain animal. Now up close, you can tell it is definitely a sheep, slain and gutted. It is also missing its head, ripped from the torso like a doll. 

"Not much you can help at this point, 'cept letting me know if you find any crazed wolves or fell beasts on the road. Third one this week. I'd gladly pay coin to have the issue dealt with."

* Coin...., * she thinks to herself, * I need more of that. *  She kneels down, surveying the carnage before her.  Not unused to seeing the insides of a slain animal, Etny looks on.  "Third one, eh?  My condolences to you and your farm," she says thoughtfully, prodding the dead animal, and looking around the surrounding area.  

(6 Medicine check to gauge the cause of the wound; 19 Survival check to see if this carnage was made by beast or man; and 16 Perception to see where the attacker might have gone off.)

Peering closely at everything in front of you, it's hard to tell what the exact cause of the wound was. This carnage definitely didn't seem... normal for a human or an animal. Although sliced from crotch to ribs, the organs spilling out are practically untouched. Whatever did this did not feast on anything inside of the sheep. 

Also unlike most kills, there is not much blood outside of the body of the animal. Even where the head was severed from the body, the ground is mostly dry. The animal died before this was removed... before it was gutted. There are no other footprints around it save the farmer's.

Etny is perturbed by this, and is a little antsy at not knowing what caused this.  Nevertheless, she turns to the farmer, she informs him of what she thinks has happened.  

"Have you seen any unusual serpents, or serpents being unusual in the area?"

He shakes his head. "I haven't, but there been word in other towns yonder that snakes coming out a bit early for the season. Lots of eggs hatchin' I guess."

He moves to grab the carcass so he can toss it in a wheelbarrow nearby. It does seem strange there aren't any other prints here except the sheep's. No predator, no struggle. You've never seen that before.

(You can roll for anything else, or continue to chat, or w/e ❤️

(Bleh...6 Survival to determine the nature of these early snake sightings, and 10 Perception to see if any are around...)

You think it is odd that snakes are out early. Something is stirring them up. 

Looking around, you know the best place to find them at this time of day. Some larger, flat rocks near the edge of the field seem a good place to try.

Etny gestures for Elmeir to follow her, and guiding Gaare with the reins she has on the axebeak, makes her way toward the flat rocks at the edge of the field.  Leaving Gaare to nibble on some nearby wild berries, Etny begins observing and tracking the field.

(18 Survival)

You spot some parted grass, signs of smaller game passing through. Easy picking for snakes. 

Crouching closer, you keep your eyes peeled. Elmeir hangs back,  watching carefully. 

Near the rock you hear a small squeaking. It is shrill, the death throes of a mouse. Stepping closer you peer beside the rock.

A snake, black with green lines running down each side, is wrapped around a doomed mouse. It has deadly fangs dug into the rodent... But from two ends. 

It takes a moment for you to figure out what you're looking at. Two snakes? No... It seems to be a single snake, both ends a head, fighting over the prey. One rips the mouse out of the other's throat, unhinging to swallow it quickly.

Etny watches a little longer, trying to make sense of the carnage and aberration of nature before her.  She has certainly seen two-headed snakes before, but this...This is something else.

(19 Nature to determine if this thing is...well...naturally occurring, or if it is indeed an aberration.)

Even though you have come across strange things in your life--two headed reptiles, albino deer, creatures lacking or sporting extra limbs--there is something off about this one. Something most assuredly unnatural.

The other head, willing to sacrifice for its meal, lunges at the opposite end. Engulfing the mouse, snake head, and neck all in one bite, it appears to now be a small oroboros...

"Shiza...," Etny mutters, backing away.  "What is this?"  Taking several distancing steps between herself and the oroboros monstrosity, she turns to Elmeir, and whispers, "nothing natural about what is going on here.  If there is one in this area, there are bound to be more in the surrounding regions.  And," she says, a little nervously, "they are multiplying like flies, it seems."

She mounts Gaare, and flips the reins of the axebeak's harness, willing the animal to go forward.  She gestures for Elmeir, encouraging him to follow.  "If and wherever we make camp," her voice serious, "we will have to scout the surrounding areas for these serpent aberrations, and get rid of them."

Elmeir follows, a soft prayer under his breath for the strange happenings. The creature, now having choked to death on itself, lays curled and still. 

As you both pass by again, he nods grimly to the farmer from atop his horse. "If we find any further news for you sir, we will return post haste." 

You continue onward toward the forest break where you first stopped, an unnerving feeling in the air. You're not sure if you wish to make camp here or not, given the events that have just transpired. Evening is coming on quickly though, so you must choose: do you wish to stay and keep watch while you recover your strength? Or press on for a safer bed?

(Weyell shoot!  Giving me a dilemma, eh?  XD)

Etny takes several moments to scour and track a nearby clearing of trees, seeking out any aberrations or unnatural monstrosities.  She carefully scouts out the surrounding area, and strives to make sure that the area is clear.

(Bleh...8 Prescription to check for threats, and 11 Survival to check for signs of serpents.)

It seems well enough clear of threats, at least from what you can tell in the last dregs of sunset. There aren't any signs of serpents at least, the grass relatively undisturbed. You can tell Elmeir is getting tired, but keeping up a brave face to follow you where you need to go. 

"How does it look, my lady? Safe enough for us this evening?"

Etny looks about, still not certain of her surroundings, but nonetheless, she shrugs her shoulders, and relents.  "It looks relatively safe.  I saw no signs of serpents in the grass, so I think we can camp here for the night."

She walks over to him, and resting a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, speaks to him.  "I'll go ahead and take the first watch tonight.  You rest up, as much as you can, and then we'll make the switch at the sixteenth hour."

Elmeir nods with a sincere expression of gratitude. "Yes indeed, my lady. I will be up at a moment's notice should you require it."

Settling down against one of the nearby trees, the man adjusts his armor. He seems keen on wearing it while he sleeps, but does set his helm atop his gear at his side. He is out within moments.

Gaare croons in the growing dark, ruffling her feathers. It has been a long ride. She rubs her beak against Etny, sinking down against the huntress to preen.

***

(The hours start... Roll a d100 and them a perception check, or other check of your choice.  Unless you have other ideas you'd like to play out, that's fine too.)

(I rolled a 33, and a 10 Perception)

Etny looks about, absently scratching the neck feathers of her beloved Gaare.  She contemplates her situation up tho this point, the last two years being almost a blur in her mind.

She hoists herself up a tree, and perched on a large branch, surveying the area as best she can at night.  She looks down at Elmeir's sleeping form, and keeps an eye on the surrounding area, though her thoughts often intervene.

You hear the footsteps of game coming and going, perhaps a few deer and a lone rabbit. It's easy to tune them out when your own thoughts come in. The hours pass slowly. What is that sound? Perhaps another rabbit. A pattering through the shrubs.

Etny decides to survey the area again, letting her eyes, now a little more used to the darkness, scan the areas below.  Drawing an arrow, she nocks it to her bowstring, and watches.

(22 Perception)

(Make a wisdom check for me)

(Sorry, that'll be an 11)

You peer through the leaves carefully. Your brain feels fuzzy, likely from the lack of sleep. Down below, your senses play games with you... You feel as if you see animals, sometimes one, sometimes many, sometimes none. It's highly disorienting.

Your ears do pick up a sound closer to camp. It is faint, like a spider crawling from a tree.

And So They Go - A Plan Unfolds - Part 2

You run and run, past workers and guards, humans, orcs, kobolds and dragonborn. Once out into the city you leap over the low walls and down toward the main gate. It's not until the bottom when, in haste, you bump into a fair haired young man. A still slightly sallow-faced Leonar, the blacksmith's son.

"H-hey! Woah there! Etny? You alright?" He catches his balance and holds you by the arm, concerned. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Na," she replies in Andrayan, her voice stricken with sorrow.  "Gra-nala ha urumda farcie," she says bitterly, and shaking her head, realizes the young man can't understand her words.  

Etny swipes at her eyes, and looks the young man in the eyes, "Eyeh, no, I am not hurt, just...useless is all."

"So...," she tries again to hold back the tears, "very...," stifling a sob, "useless!"

"Uh..." The young man hesitates, glancing around. People are starting to stare and it's making him uncomfortable. "H-hey, come on Et." With a strength that surprises you he hefts you up by the elbow and steers you to the blacksmith shop. "Let's get inside."

He pushes the door open, his ears burning from the attention and murmurs from outside.  "Pa! Got some company!" 

This shop is far bigger than the one in Dragonshore, with old architecture that is very similar to that in the main keep. It is definitely a dragonborn style, with etchings around the brickwork and a stylized cloud design along the ceiling. Patches of new plaster and mortar have been spackled in where cracks had formed, and a plethora of new tools, weapons, nails and screws are piled in crates and boxes against two of the four walls. Heat from a forge blasts in from the back room, adjacent to another door leading up a narrow stair. A voice bellows in from the back.

"You can tell that Ironheaded nincompoop that I can only put out gear for what ore the gnomes bring in! If he asks one more time--!!" 

Ferrar Axemage walks out, a hot iron poker in one hand and a bar of iron in the other. His grumpy expression fades almost immediately at seeing his old customer and friend. "Oh! Why if it ain't miss Etny!" 

He sets the ingot on a metal table followed by the poker. The big fellow wipes his hands on his heavy leather apron, smearing grease and soot. "Pleasure to see ya again dear! Leo, be a good lad and take her poleaxe and sharpen it." 

The boy hunches his shoulders awkwardly and does as he is bidden. Despite his demeanor, he has learned a great deal from his father. Focused on a task he is comfortable with he immediately relaxes, the grinding wheel humming smoothly against the light metal. 

"Been a while since I've seen ya! I've been hearin' great things about that lodge of yours, I've been meaning to come visit once I get this backlogged order pushed out." He plops down on a chair near you, pushing over a tray of stale biscuits to share.

Etny sinks into the chair near the stale biscuits, her head down, hair falling into her face.  She tries so hard to stifle the sobs, but she can't.  She feels like a little maiden girl, bawling at everything, and fulfilling nothing.  "It is good to see you too, Ferrar-oman.  Yes, the lodge.  It is...it is well.  I can't think well right now, my friend.  I just..."

Her throat tightens, as well as her chest, threatening more sobs and tears.  * Shiza, what am I?  A heartbroken youth?! *  She takes a few calming deep breaths, and finally looks up at Ferrar.  A stray tear rolls unbidden down her cheek, having squeezed out of her eye.  She swipes at it impatiently, and flips her auburn hair out of her face.  Her eyes are slightly red and puffy from the crying she's been doing.

"Ferrar, I tried to fix my Andrayan bow."

Her eyes are pleading and sorrowful.  

"I failed."

Ferrar's brow furrows and he purses his lips. He then lets out a small laugh. "Well gee miss, why you tryin' ta fix it when you got me in town? I've worked my way around half a million bows in my life!" 

He pats you on the arm, not meaning to be rough at all. "What all happened to it? No need to be shy, weapons always need maintenance once in a while. Even good ol' Axemage brand." He chuckles again, trying to lighten the mood.

Etny digs her fists into her eyes, and sniffles loudly, chuckling weakly at Axemage's words.  "Well, you see, it is not a normal bow.  It has...it has magical qualities to it that require much toil.  Oxious and myself have made the attempt, but we failed...*I* failed...to put it together.  It requires magical components.  Do you work with magical weapons, by chance?"

Ferrar snorts. "Bless that fellow, but Oxious is only familiar with that frilly sort of magic. How do 'ya think I got the surname Axemage?" He winks at you as he grabs a biscuit. "I work with magical weapons and enchantments often! Honestly he spoke with me about somethin' or other, but I wasn't aware it was your bow. Thought it was just some trinket of his." 

He scratches his beard, contemplating the situation. "Does he still have the bow?"

"Yes, he does.  I...," she looks away shamefully, "...I sort of took off from his tower when I attempted to mend it and failed.  It is still in his possession, and I do not know if he has done anything further with it."

She lets out a deep sigh, striving to calm her roiling emotions.  "It is my family's heirloom, and in the curve arms it has a core of Sheolium--Elektar in my tongue.  It is wrapped in the hide of white kobold, sealed with Andrayan blood, and bored into the center of the Andrayan Ironwood, forming the curve arms."

She scratches the back of her neck and looks back at Axemage.  "Have you worked with Elektar--Sheolium before?  Do you...do you have any Sheolium here?"

"Sheolium..." He leans back in his chair, munching on his biscuit. "Sheolium... No, I don't think I have anything that rare on hand. I'm sorry Etny."

"But," Ferrar pauses and you can see the gears spinning in his mind. "Since we've been here I've had to source some rarer materials from inland. Hard to find suppliers when you first move, but this guy has a lot. Gregory Cindershaper, near the coast by Narder Stronghold. Owns a place called Cinders and Shrapnel. He reached out to me first, hearin' about us starting up here and all."

Etny's spirits rise some, her eyes brightening.  "You think this Gregory Cindershaper might have something like Elektar, or even Elektar itself?"  Etny tentatively takes a dry biscuit, and nibbles on it.  "If mayhap I could get something from him, possibly even Elektar, I could bring you my bow, and you could repair it?"

Etny's wheels turn, as she grasps onto anything that'd bring her some form of hope.  She MUST mend her family's bow, and preserve the memory of not only them, but her entire tribe.  "I will make for this Cinders and Shrapnel by Narder Stronghold in the next day or so.  Ferrar Axemage-oman, thank you!"

Ferrar smiles wide. "You're mighty welcome! I hope he has what you're looking for." 

Leo walks over at that moment, handing you your newly sharpened weapon. It gleams brightly with polish. His dad grunts as he stands. "I'll check with the old mage and see what I can do to help in the meantime. Bring me what you can, and we'll get it all patched up like new. Don't you worry miss."

 After taking your leave from the Axemage's, you feel a renewed hope in your heart. The All-Mother is watching over you and your heritage, even if you are the last of your people. Keeping it alive, and letting your name spread so the Andryan are never forgotten, is more than noble in her eyes. 

***

The two of you continue your way up to the tower. Dorokor makes you a little later than anticipated with a few stops along the way, but you eventually arrive at the flat of Oxious' office. 

The tiefling looks up, mulling over a broken bow on his table. "Yes?" Oxious inquires. He raises an eyebrow as he looks you both over. 

"Hmm. You got something there Atriox. Just about..." He gestures to some blood on your neck where Kora bit you earlier. Rolling his eyes he goes back to his work.

Atriox grunts and rubs it away with a smirk

“Ya ya old man. Now we got a serious serious issue.” 

Atriox walks over to the table and throws the flag on top. 

“They’re here. The people who destroyed this place all those years ago. I didn’t expect them so soon.”

He jerks back in surprise, staring at the black cloth in front of him. His snarkiness is immediately replaced with concern. "Really? You're certain of this?"

Atriox holds his hands up in an uncertain way 

“Vance was hesitant to bring it up but the Dragonborn port is being attacked here and there. Bodies found mutilated and with snakes pouring out of them. I don’t like this at all.”

Atriox finds a map and points where at the port

“It could be just three people but it could also be the scouts of a larger group. We have no information and I intend to find out more”

A dark look comes over Oxious' face. "Snakes?" 

His smacks his lips, his mouth dry. He begins to pace. "Snakes? Like the kind we saw in Dragonshore? And that enemy is tied to this one? The same one who destroyed Skyhold before?" 

 He stops in front of the map again, contemplating distance and strategy between your home and the coast. "What is your plan? And what can I do to help?"

Atriox nods grimly 

“I’ve naturally done some digging over the years. There’s a cult. I don’t know much but they’re dangerous. I was never certain it was them and I couldn’t ever find any hard leads but after everything in dragonshore and the monster that waited here for me to return....well let’s say I’m beginning to suspect more and more....”

Atriox looks to Oxious. “Send word to our few allies here to be on the lookout and to be careful for any strange people or snakes. Then over see that everything is fine here”

Atriox then looks to Kora

“You.....Bloodreigna will secure the home front. At this point we shouldn’t assemble the army. I don’t want a full blown panic but I do want every guard post triple fortified. Nobody goes anywhere alone. Period. I want the walls manned as well. After that I’m going to see if Etny will go out with her people and scout everything outwards from here to the pits were making. They’re miles out and I don’t want anything getting in through those tunnels. Kora I trust you to guard this place with everything you got. Keep our kids safe.”

***

It's not long before you return to your lodge, the smell of herbs strong in your nose. "Hello again!" Elmeir greets you from the main room, an array of materials lain on the table in front of him. There's also a pair of rabbits hooked on the corner of a chair. 

"I set a few traps on my way out, and caught these two on my way back in. These woods are indeed plentiful. You even have a grove of everroot here! I didn't expect to find it at such an altitude. It's a fantastic material..." He pulls his hood back and tries to smooth back his messy hair. 

"I have a simple stew cooking in the fireplace, I hope that's alright. Did you get what you needed from the city, miss?"

Etny brightens at the sight of the healer.  "Ah!  Elmeir, hello!  I see you've been busy with trapping, and gathering.  And yes, something simple and nice will be perfect.  Harra, thank you, Elmeir."

She moves to the table he has his things and materials strewn upon, and looks them over.  "I am no skilled healer, just medicine, really, with some magic.  Color me impressed, though!  I like what you have here."

She moves around to the other side of the table and takes a seat.  She rests her forehead in her hands.  "Business in the city...did not go as I'd planned.  I at least got my poleaxe sharpened, but as for my native bow, it is nigh irreparable."

Elmeir looks contemplative, pouring you both a cup of tea. "Here now, no need to worry miss. I assume this weapon is one that saw you through many of the battles I've heard tale of?" He smiles gently, patting you on the back. 

"But you made it special. You wielded it. You gave it power on the battlefield. Just like you will continue to do with any weapon or foe you face. And I've come here because I intended to see that and serve you. Not just your bow." 

"However..." He trails off, sitting beside you. "If I can help repair it in any way, even if just to make it a proper heirloom now, I will do my best to serve." 

At that moment there is a loud POP that makes Elmeir jump. On the table is a little puff of pink smoke, with a new scroll sealed with a wax goat. "What the...?"

Etny jolts at the scroll appearing in the middle of the table.  "Aaah, it seems our tiefling friend Oxious has sent a message to us."  As she unfurls the note, she gives the healer a sidelong glance.  "A lot have offered to mend the bow today, in one way or another.  It is very special, that bow.  It was passed down to me by my father when I was eight years old.  It is...very magical indeed."  

Looking away, she fully unfurls the note, and reads it.

Elmeir leans back in his chair as you read, contemplatively sipping his drink. The note is much longer than the first.

 

"Miss Etny, Master of the Hunt, 

This letter is twofold. Firstly, I want to sincerely apologize for any distress caused to you by coming to my office. I did not mean any harm in showing you what I'd found, or any lack of tact on my part. That was uncooth of me, my lady, to allow what happened to transpire. I hope knowing what we know now, we can safely move forward with a solution. 

Secondly, on an even more serious note, you left a strange koboldian leather with me. It is indeed the same material we need to start repairs, but it appears to have a psionic magic imprinted on it. It is not something I am wholy familiar with, however I was able to roughly decypher it due to my history. I'm certain you did not write it--no offense meant, my dear--and I am wary to mention what or who did. It seems a form of poetry, or perhaps a riddle: 

"Sheep and kettles share a lot

As does earth reveal its thought

Great mazes are the folds of mind

Yet linked are all in space and time"

If any of this means something to you, please let me know immediately; for your safety first and foremost. 

With sincere kindness, 

Oxious the Fanciful "

As you reach the bottom, you notice an ink bleeding through an additional message, in real time, as if being written hurriedly by his hand. 

"Post Scripted: 

I hope I am timely in adding to this missive, before you are through with reading it once. A dire situation has arisen. The prince may seek you out regarding the details. We are asking you to bring any scouts you've worked with, along with those kobolds who are digging out through the forest, to scout everything from the mountain to the pit camps. Every square mile. All I can send in this message is a reminder of a previous encounter, something I've heard tale of in Dragonshore: 

Remember the dire elk. 

If you have received this post script, please send a response via a prick of blood here. 

Thank you for your understanding, 

Oxious"

Etny sighs, and presses the note flat to the table.  She draws out a utility knife from her boot and pricks her finger, letting a few drops of blood drip onto the spot Oxious indicated.  "It seems," she says to Elmeir, "that our tiefling friend and the Prince are in need of my services.  Also, there was a strange item of note I gave to the tiefling--a hide--that had a strange riddle written on it.  It reads, 

'Sheep and kettles share a lot

As does earth reveal its thought

Great mazes are the folds of mind

Yet linked are all in space and time'

Have you ever heard anything like that, and is there anything you can make of it?  It is alright if not, for I am drawing a blank."  She smiles sheepishly at him.  

"Also, something dire has come up.  I need to you to tend to things here generally, as best you can.  I may need use of your healing materials quite soon.  I am sorry I have not investigated the land round about yet for a suitable plot."  She sighs again.  "Please, be safe, and be careful.  Arm yourself well, healer.  I have rapid business to tend to."  She stands up and rests a hand on his shoulder.  She gives him another smile.  "All-Mother be with you, Elmeir, as well as whomever you pray to and worship." 

Elmeir ponders over the poetic words. "I'll think on it while you're out, miss. No need to worry." He stands, nodding serenely at you in respect. "Take good care, and may All-Mother, and all other gods of goodness, light your footsteps." 

***

Atriox sighs and runs a hand over his eyes.

“I will personally be going to check out the area around the port since that’s where the attacks have been”

 Oxious nods affirmatively. He seems nervous and hyper focused. "I'll prepare the messages right away. I'll also check back with my associates in Dragonshore... see if anything nefarious has arisen since our departure." 

Dorokor straightens up. "Yes, Prince Atriox. As you wish. I'll make sure it is done to your specifications, and insure there is no diversion from it." You can tell she's concerned, and also perhaps a little melencholy over your leaving so quickly. 

"Is there anything I can supply you for your journey?" The tiefling glances over at a pile of materials, some that are his own and others that look as if they were taken out of the temple down below for study.

Atriox shrugs 

“Anything you as my magical hand feel I need ? I’m still not the best when it comes to preparing for situations magically.”

"Hm..." He scours over the materials, contemplating what would be best to help you. As he is preoccupied, Dorokor takes you by the elbow and leads you near a shadowy, comfortable corner. 

"Atriox," She murmurs quietly, out of earshot of the tiefling. "I have something for you." She looks grumpy, but you can tell she's probably just embarrassed. Shoving her hand into a pocket, she pulls out a balled-up fist. Grabbing your wrist, she places her hand in yours. 

When she pulls her fingers away, you see a fine, corded necklace braided with extreme care. it is dyed black and at the end of it is a sharp fang. 

"One of my fangs." She sniffs, shrugging the meaning of it off. "Not nothing magical, or some crap like he has, but..."

Atriox chuckles at her and her avoidance at admitting feelings. He takes her chin under a flawed finger and looks at her in the eyes

“It is magic. It has love behind it and that’s the best magic there is. Thank you Kora.”

He kisses her passionately for a long moment before stepping back with a smile

“Though I suppose I could add magic to it. Worse case scenario I can gouge someone’s eyes out as a dying act with”

He says it playfully in a way he can only be with her

She cracks a smile at that. Kora honestly seems more relaxed than she used to be, especially around you. "Wow you are sappy..." She chuckles, not seeming to mind that at all. "And I don't mind the gouging, but no dying! I forbid it." 

Oxious bustles back over, a small satchel of tanned leather in hand. Dorokor clears her throat and steps back a little, trying to act more nonchalant. 

The old goat seems to not notice a thing as he hands the bag to you. "Here. Inside are three flare wands, a large vial of antidote that works for most poisons and venoms... should be good for two uses, if necessary. Dahlia had left something for you too, some kind of book I think. I haven't seen her today, but I stuck it in there for you all the same."

Atriox nods in appreciation before slipping Koras fang around his neck. 

“Everybody be safe and show no mercy unless it’s to get a survivor to torture. I know if I find some of those snake loving filth I’ll drain them dry. I need to go get changed. I’ll be back as soon as I can”

Atriox nods to oxious and squeezes Koras hand before heading to his makeshift room to change 

Once there he throws off his current close in favor for some of his new ones. Atriox has always been a fan of simple colors white and black. With gold thrown in of course. Atriox ops for black this occasion. Black to fit his mood. He gets into some of his tight leather pants, a grey shirt, some dyed black leather armor over his shirt, and a midnight black silk hooded robe to go around it all. The robe has gold lining in some small spots for flare but no to much. 

Atriox looks into a mirror and straps on his back sheath and sword over the robe and then his shoulder bag over that. As he stares into his reflection he feels his anger from that night all those years bubble up and turn his eyes red. After a moment Atriox raises the big hood up over his head and swiftly exits heading to the lower courtyard.

***

As you head back out into the sunshine, you make your way over to the back of the lodge where a clear area spreads out into a sea of grass. You see your axebeak, Gaare, sifting the bugs from the flowers. She sees you and squawks happily, trotting over and nuzzling you with her beak. 

You make your way along the well-walked paths of the forest beyond the lodge. Both created by you and the game trails of deer and elk, you're more acutely aware of exactly where the kobolds have been digging. Small signs indicate the way above ground, but only to a trained eye as yourself. Bone made sure to discuss the code with you so no enemies of the kingdom could read them. 

It's about a half hour in when you feel a prickling sensation on your neck. Your hairs stand on end, like a chill wind has blown through... though there is none. (Perception check please)

(18 Perception)

A howling fills the air and you spot a rush of white through the trees. A pack of winter wolves, their magical frost glistening on their haunches, flashes by. Larger and more stately than gray wolves, they are indeed a sight to behold, beautiful and majestic and deadly. 

One near the back of the pack pauses among the brambles. His cold blue eyes looks right at you. It's an intelligent look, one of mutual respect from one hunter to another.

Etny whispers a grateful prayer to the All-Mother for the presence of these amazing creatures.  She is stunned beyond belief that such majestic animals have even stopped to consider her.  She sings her praises to the All-Mother, and continues on her way, following the secret coded messages left by the diggers.

(19 perception to scan for threats nearby.)

She reaches behind and undoes the shoulder clasp holding her poleaxe at her back, and brings it around, ready for anything.  She dearly misses her bow, and knows that she is more vulnerable in close range combat.  She realizes she should have at least picked up a loaner bow, that way she would be able to utilize her skills as a huntress.  She slinks forward, calling upon the Andrayan magics within to give her passage without leaving any traces.  The All-Mother guides her steps, it seems, avoiding loose rocks, snapping twigs, and noisy roots.  She continues forward, silent as death.

(I cast Pass Without a Trace on myself.  22 stealth.  

You move silently, your footfalls not even rustling the loamy leaf litter of the ground. You can hear the wolves passing on, howling again as they chase after unseen prey. A prickling continues up your neck, but only from the stillness of the trees. You cannot sense anything nearby that sees you, almost invisible as you are. 

It takes another hour or so of the slow, quiet going but you break out into a small grove to the points of several kobold spears. When they see it is you they chatter happily. 

"Huntress! Yes, digging going well. Some tunnels done, others to go! What is news?" They glance at your poleaxe and back at you, wondering if something is amiss.

In prefect draconic, Etny replies to her kobold compatriots.  "It is a matter to which Atriox and company are currently responding to.  They have made haste to the harbor city to the southeast to investigate.  I have been called upon by Oxious to scout from the mountains to the pit camps."

Etny pauses, mulling over her next words carefully.  "There has apparently been a disturbance in these lands, one we thought we out ran and left behind us in Dragonshore.  It has followed us here.  We must make hate and begin scouting out the surrounding areas."

 The kobolds chitter among one another as the news travels down the newly dug tunnels. "Yes," they reply in staccato responses, the excitement for a large-scale scouting hunt in the air. "Yes, we scout! Whole mountain... whole forest. What we look for? What we hunt?" 

They bounce about, already gathering weapons and supplies, and drawing white paint made of clay and crushed bone across their faces. It's a little unnerving, but you remember them doing this with Tyranus of the Frost.

"Do you all remember the strange snake-like creatures we found in the caves below Skyhold?  We are hunting those, and we are also hunting anyone associated with them--dark robes, strange symbols, and black powers beyond reckoning.  We must purge them from your home, and make safe this city!"

Etny holds her poleaxe aloft, and shouts a chant in draconic, "Vhiramrith Vyklade kothari!  Origato astahi Valignat!"

("Down with the Snake-demons!  Let them burn!")

They yip in excitement at your battle cry and the promise of a terrifying hunt. One of them smiles evily, bowing low to you. "We do our best. Thorough! Nothing will escape us, huntress!" 

With quick commands the kobolds take off through the tunnels and the trees. You see them split into several groups, each led by a more experienced kobold fighter or tracker. One group remains with you, six trackers in total. "You wish us follow back? We scout to the mountain?" 

You can hear their ragged little breaths as they huddle around your ankles, eager for an answer.

Etny looks down at the little drake-like creatures.  In another time, and possibly in another life, she would have slain them on sight, no quarter, no mercy.  Nowadays, though...she is loathe to even think the thought!  She nods down at them, and gestures for them to follow.  "Come," she says in draconic, "I must get a bow, and then we find the Prince!"

She makes off with a leap and a stiff jog through the woods, following her path back to her lodge, and onward to Skyhold.  She means to meet up with the Prince, and report to him her doings.  She also means to apologize to Oxious for her...uncanny behavior earlier.  She will have to make it up to him, somehow...

You make your way back through the forest. The kobolds spread out and comb the trees, the brush, and the entire area for threats or strange activity. There's a strange tingling on the back of your neck most of the way. It feels as if every hair is standing on end, but the kobolds don't seem phased. 

Suddenly one scrambles from the undergrowth, tripping over some roots. "Huntress! Found something! Yes, yes this way! Not far from here!" It's eyes look wild with excitement at having found something before the others. A sense of pride tucked behind the toothy grin.

Etny breaks course and comes to where the kobold indicated.  She pats him lightly on his shoulder, leaning down to do so, and approaches the undergrowth.  Her poleaxe at the ready, she takes steady, slow steps toward the area.  

(NAT 20!  26 total Perception!)

You come into a grove of trees, thick with vegetation. Near one tree you spot trampled-down grass and sage, and the body of a winter wolf. It looks just like the one who met your gaze on the way out--the same fur on the snout and the frosted tail tip. Except... 

Above it's wide, dead eyes, its skull looks cracked open. The cavity here is almost bloodless, despite the strangely colored blood-stains on the tree and ground around the kill. It is most definitely the death blow on the creature, hollowed out from the inside. The fur surrounding it is dried and crusted with cerebral fluid. The body still radiates a micron of heat, the stiffness of decay and the insects not yet set in.

The kobold who came to fetch you hovers, curious. He pokes at the beast with a stick, the massive animal easily twice the size of a normal wolf. "This what you explain, yes? Strange things? Leaves such good meat..." 

The other kobolds hover around, hungrily eyeing the carcass and the precious, once magically glistening fur.

Etny, being party to many opened carcasses in her time, and having hunted many a wild game, gutting, quartering, and dressing them out, has to exact a herculean effort to keep from vomiting in front of the kobolds.  Swallowing hard, and further examining the head would in the beast, she realizes with a sharp intake of breath just what--or who--made this.  

"Zabrenossk," she hisses in a whisper, and gestures to the kobolds.  In draconic, she urges them onward.  "Cannot eat this one.  It has been hunted by something truly masterful and dangerous--more deadly than the wolf itself.  We must flee here, for the hunter of this wolf is likely close by."

(NAT 20 AGAIN!  Total 23 Persuasion.)

They glance at one another in wonder. Against their normal nature they comply almost effortlessly. "Yes, understood! We mark this area for other scouts, keep them safe. We continue toward the mountain then, huntress?" 

You can feel eyes watching you--moreso than the pale, globular eyes of the kobolds--something deeper in the forest.

"Yes, toward Skyhold and the mountain beyond.  I need a bow," she says, and continues her jog through the woods with her kobold entourage all around her.  She retraces her steps through the woods, and makes her way through, careful to keep her footing and look the part of the Huntress of Skyhold in her step.

The way back is steady and mostly uneventful. The kobolds bring you a few dead birds, the remains of a half-eaten rabbit--torn apart by some falcon or another--and three snakes. All of which had been speared through the spine when retrieved, but they seemed no different than ordinary snakes.

"Hmmmm," she looks over the snakes and other creatures, thinking out loud.  "These are no more than average pythons," she mutters to herself.  Gesturing for the kobolds to continue following, she makes her way out of the forest, to the clearing where the ShalaFang resides.  It's hulking structure imposing in the low light of dusk.  "Guard the way, and keep a lookout," she instructs the kobolds, "I shall not be long.  I only stop here to retrieve a bow, and my arrows."

With that, she enters the lodge, making a bee line toward her room.  She calls out to Elmeir, telling him to be on alert and bless the place in the name of his God, also that she wants him to continue to look after it as she has to leave to Skyhold.  

With that, she enters her room, and finds her accoutrements resting on a nearby table.  Hefting the new bow up in her hands, it is lightweight and does not carry nearly the same gravitas as her Andrayan bow.  Nevertheless, she takes it up, and gathers all of her newly crafted arrows, slipping them all into her hip quiver.  She rushes out of the bedroom, and back outside, to the awaiting kobolds...

Elmeir smiles, passing you a container of his soup, still warm. "Blessed be your steps, miss." 

The kobolds look up as you come back outside, having started up a game of what you can only guess is, "toss-the-dead-animal-without-dropping-it." They seem rather enthusiastic about it until they see you, one of the birds landing with a splat. Another has a snake around his neck like an ornament or trophy.

(LOL)

She gratefully takes the soup, drinking it as she rushes out the door, and before exiting, answers with a muffled but sincere "And All-Mother guide you, Elmeir!"

Etny shakes her head at the kobolds' behavior, chalking it up to boredom and distractedness, and gestures for them to follow her anew.  "To Skyhold, and the Prince," she says matter-of-factly.

They nod, following after you in a neat formation. You can hear snickering as they continue to whip the snakes around, snapping them at one another and ripping off bits of meat to eat. 

As you scale the city below and make your way to the gates of the castle, there's a small commotion behind you. You turn and see two kobolds trying to rip one of the pythons from the third, the one who was wearing it like a trophy around his neck. His spitting and clawing at them, and the others back away from the strange fight.

"Shizaaaaa," Etny complains, "OLEAH!  OY!  HIE," Etny barks as strong as she can, her voice ringing through the air.  Racing up, she reaches in and grabs the two kobolds trying to tear the dead thing from around the third kobold's neck.  (19 Athletics to pull the two away.)  In draconic, she utters a curse, and tossing the other two aside, she reaches down and rips the dead snake from the third kobold's neck, her violet eyes blazing.  "You will CEASE this madness!  NOW!!  There is no TIME for games and grudges!  DESIST!!"

"You are DRAGON-KIND!  ACT it!!"

The group scrambles back yipping in alarm at your outburst, thoroughly impressed with what they'd consider a roar of command. Even the other two make no qualms to get in your way again, claws scraping against the flagstones. 

But as you rip the snake away from the third, it feels muscular in your hand--like iron--and pulls the wretched kobold with it; yanking him off his feet and up into the air. His frantic spitting turns into a wheezing cry for air. A little whistling noise escapes him but nothing after. The dead snake--or so you thought--wraps its tail around your arm like a bracer... squeezing as tight as a vice as it grapples both of you.

(Freakin Sertrous!)

"Shizaaaa...," Etny grasps helplessly at the dead thing now wrapping its coils around her forearm, and doing her best to ignore the vice-like grip, seizes the coils around the kobold's neck, and with a mighty effort, strives to lessen the death grip of the snake.  

"SHIZAAAAA!"

She grasps the snake's coils around the kobold, and utters a horrific litany of Andrayan words.  Her hand turns suddenly cold, and using her magic the best she can, tries to quell and slow the squeezing of the coils by freezing the python in place.  

(I cast Chill Touch -- 2d8 necrotic damage to the python, and it can't regain hitpoints until the end of my next turn.)

You feel the muscles of the undead python stiffen, the wound at it's neck filling over with frost. Its eyes are glossy and pure white, fangs extending as the magic permeates the body. 

The kobold's struggling begins to weaken, his claws barely scraping at the scales. Seeing what's happened, the others all rush forward again to bite, claw and stab at the monster, trying to free their brother. 

With an immense effort he slips free, his neck bruised and barely breathing. They dance around him, trying to help as he chokes and gulps in small bursts of air. And the snake turns its full focus on you. 

It's eyes meet yours. Scales cracking away from the necrotic energy running in tendrils up its skin. It flicks its black tongue at you. Tasting the air. Tasting the fear around it. 

(Make an INT saving throw)

(Total 20 Int Saving Throw.)

There's an invasive push into your mind from the snake, but you push it back instantly. It's entirely different than Zabrenossk's poking around. It is cold, vitriol and slithering like death. 

Hissing, it suddenly lets go. Your arm feels bruised where it held you, and you hear it thunk to the ground. It rushes toward the entrance of Skyhold, making for the gate.

"NAAAAAAAA!  YOU DARE!!!"  

Etny throws her poleaxe with all of her might at the python-snake-demon, seeking to hold it in place.  (18 Atk against the snake, and 11 damage if it hits.)

A mighty CLANG resonates through the courtyard as the axe strikes the ground, practically severing the creature in half and pinning its body to the stone. It looks twisted and wretched, with no truly understandable reason as to why it is still alive. Black ichor spills from its mouth like rancid blood. It is unable to escape.

***

Twenty minutes later he arrives and assembles 10 Kobolds to come with him and Vance along with the Dragonborn guards. With the last of the preparations in place Atriox approach’s Vance

  Vance looks up with a smile, armor and weapon polished bright and ready to go. It contrasts yours greatly. Even after his first battle at Skyhold, it was obvious he still carried a streak of naivety about war, assassins, and other dark things of the world.

"Did everything you asked," he smiles wide. "A scout was sent to our helmsmen to have him launch the boat." 

Vance strokes back the comb of short, red frills on his head. "Also spoke with the kobolds out front. Spunky srappers. Worked it out so some will ride armed with my guard. Others preferred their own lizard mounts of some kind.. Something about trees."

You see the other twelve dragonborn guards saddling up on horses carefully tended by the stablehand. They are trimmed, brushed and fresh for a ride, but none stand out more than the muscular, ebony silk stallion who stands at least five hands taller than the largest there. 

"He's all ready for you, sire," the younger stableboy's freckled face smiles up at you. A gold-trimmed, dark leather saddle and embroidered blanket are already strapped to its back, matching reins attached to the saddlehorn. The horse whinnies deep as he sees you, shaking his perfectly brushed mane.

Atriox snorts at vances description of the Kobolds 

“I have certainly found that despite there size, my little friends are worth far more than people would guess of them. They’re strong, loyal, smart, and they repopulate fast. A self sustaining army. And they are our kin.”

Atriox dones riding gloves and pats his beautiful horse Destrè  before mounting up the big beautiful animal. He looks at the young man seriously 

“Are you ready brother ? We must be vigilant as we ride. I don’t wish to tell your father....or your brother and sister that you died. Besides I want to keep you around. Your a fine young dragon Vance.

Atriox pulls up next to him and claps him on the shoulder

Vance puffs up his chest a little, proud to get such praise. He's likely used to hearing Kybirus getting it more from his father and the soldiers. 

"Ready as ever! Nothing can kill this spirit, brother!" 

Destrè paws at the ground with a snort, ready to go. You've found he is always quite eager and can easily sense your emotions. Your fervent desire to get on the road bleeds over to him. As you head outside, several kobolds climb up the haunches of the other horses, sitting behind the dragonborn. They are all loaded up with ranged weapons and gear, likely supplied by Vele from a growing cache of equipment. 

Those not riding with the horses are sitting atop felldrakes, only about four in total. They're lead by Bone, who sports a ivory helmet crafted from a Skaven skull. The felldrakes remind you of the one Tak had long ago, but are much leaner, agile, and have nimble-clawed feet. Their pale blue-green splotched bodies shiver with excitement, feral jaws snapping left and right. They certainly match their riders well.

Atriox snorts in humor at seeing them ride and continues on feeling a dread happiness come upon him. The hunt was on now. He and Vance led them on towards the port.

You travel in the straightest path possible to the port while still avoiding being too close to the Cawle River. Taking side roads where you can, you steadily close the gap. 

Vance talks on and on during the journey about the port, from the name Kybirus gave it--Drake's Fang--to the political structure, the building progress, the roads and services being established. It's hard to tell what he's embellishing, but his enthusiasm is contagious. Talk of such grand things, and with so great a force as you have, raise the other dragonborn's spirits. Despite the danger that's been lurking outside of their newly founded city, they are confident they will not be targeted. Almost laughing at the idea in quiet snickers, like an inside joke. 

The kobolds remain alert regardless, obviously bored with the yammering and haughtiness of their larger brethren. Those riding the felldrakes flit through the trees above like shadows of birds, the slender, whip-like tails of the speckled beasts slithering easily through the foliage. Once in a while, Bone emerges from up above. His mount skitters down the nearest tree to give you a report. Much is quiet, save for a few travelers up and down the river and on the more notable roads. 

Late into the evening when the last ribbons of sunlight fade, you pull up your horses to rest. A scampering emerges from the tree again, and Bone practically leaps from the felldrake to find you. 

"Atriox! Vance!" The small, lithe kobold whispers urgently. "There is a disturbance on the river. Birds fleeing, drakes are spooked."

Atriox pulls his black beauty to a quick halt with one hard pull on the reins. As he looks to the Kobold who’s talking him he try’s not to get to excited. This might not be his quarry after all. Looking to the one who spoke 

“Keep your mounts under control. Let’s check it out together but everyone be as silent as you can.”

Atriox moves his horse forward slowly trying to be as quiet as possible.

You move through the trees, closer and closer to the banks of the river. Even your own horse seems uneasy... alert... ears quietly twitching this way and that. You know something is amiss, but as to what... 

"BOOM!" 

A bright light blooms through the darkness of the trees ahead, out on the water. Vance's horse startles and almost bucks him off completely, and the kobold's felldrakes begin to scatter despite their barking orders. 

"What the hell-- What was that Atriox?!" The red dragonborn prince looks at you, eyes wide and cautious, a hand on his sword.

Atriox struggles to get his mount under control and looks to Vance with apprehension 

“ I know not brother but I don’t like it whatever it is”

Atriox looks back at the men and quietly orders one kobold and one Dragonborn to check out the commotion 

“Do not engage, if you must run than run. I just need you to be my eyes and ears, now go.”

***

Etny stands there, breathing hard, and trembling.  She strives to take deep breaths to calm her nerves, and turns to the kobolds.  She speaks in draconic to them.  "I apologize completely, my little ones.  I did not see your struggling friend at first.  I should not have gotten so angry at you.  You did not deserve it.  It has been...a stressful time for all of us.  But come," she presses onward, urging the kobolds to follow, "let us make our way into Skyhold and to the Prince."

She rushes over and draws out her poleaxe, and secures it to her back latch.  Un-shouldering her temporary bow she carries it with her, and with a gesture, urges the kobolds onward.

The kobolds, now recovered, follow after you. They skirt around the edge of the twice-dead snake, jumping as its body hisses and sizzles away into nothingness. 

You make your way up through the mountain castle, higher and higher. But when you arrive near the upper levels, you start to hear that Atriox has stepped away for the time being--having ridden out with Vance and some of the other dragonborn.

Etny decides then that she will go to Oxious, apologize to him for her earlier behavior, and report to him of the snake incident just outside the castle walls.  Also, she wishes to take Elmeir with her to Cinders and Shrapnel to Gregory Cindershaper, and see if he indeed has her desperately needed meteorite.  

Turning down some stairs, she leads the kobolds back down through the castle.  "Well, little ones, I fear I must leave you here to do the bidding of all else who command you.  I will notify Vele, Tak, or the Chieftess of your arrival.  I must go to Oxious now.  I bid you farewell, and remember:  you are the children of dragons!  Fear no nightly serpent!"

They all nod in agreement, understanding their work is done here. Your words of encouragement are heartening to them, and they seem to muster a new fire in their eyes. Eager to go scout more of the mountain (and hopefully refrain from picking up any other snakes), they bow and scamper away. 

Heading back to the tower you visited early that morning, you trudge up the same stairs with a lot on your mind. It has been a very busy 24 hours after all, and reminds you of the old days. 

Oxious practically bumps into you as he's leaving the tower, his clothing scruffy and his hair tossed. He stuffs a notebook into his jacket pocket. There's a look of irritation and frustration on his face, with peels of child laughter behind him. 

"Etny!" His expression tries to soften but he's a little too disheveled to focus too well. "Hello again. Pardon me, I'm heading down below for some... fresh air. Visitors..." 

You can discern Ismene the nymph giggling along with the sound of children, and assume Dorokor had brought them up sometime this evening.

Etny steps back, seeing his expression, and reassures him with a wave.  "Care if I join you for some 'fresh air,' Oxious?  I've had my fair share of rambunctious drakes and dark serpents for one night, speaking of which," she pauses, letting that last part sink in, "I had an interesting encounter with such a serpent at our very gates."

"Oh!  I did get your letter, and," she quiets, slightly embarassed, "I am sorry about this morning..."

As you both walk down the steps, he listens intently to your retelling of the undead snake attack in the courtyard. His confident, more mature demeanor returns as he mulls over the details, asking you to repeat some parts several times. You assume he is attempting to piece together the magic needed to pull off such a stunt. 

As you arrive at the mid-level again, he opens one of the shuttered windows facing out over the dark forest below. Fresh air blows in, bringing with it the sweet smells of a spring evening. 

"You are alright, Etny. Thank you for the information. I am glad you and the others are safe. This is... troubling, but not so much so that we cannot defend ourselves against it. I will go out this evening to walk the parameter. Renew the protective spells and alarms..." His eyes glance up at you and his expression softens. 

"And please, don't be sorry for this morning. I was callous in how I handled our encounter with your heirloom. I'm sure we will need it in working condition again, sooner than later."

She looks out the window, and stares across the star-studded sky with its bare trickles of light cascading down to sparsely illuminate the treeline below.  Etny breathes in the spring air, letting it fill her lungs with its earthy sweetness.  She is quiet for a while, and finally turns to him.

"I think I know where I can find the meteorite, Oxious.  I spoke with Axemage this morning, and he said there might be something at a place called Cinders and Shrapnel near Narder Stronghold."

The tiefling raises an eyebrow. He pulls out a pipe, lighting it with his fingers, and takes a long puff off of the end. "Narder, huh?" 

You can see the gears in his mind working. "You can't go alone though. It is too dangerous for anyone to be out by themselves, with groups being attacked by the coast. I wonder if there is anywhere closer..." He runs one hand through his hair, trying to straighten it. "But you sound determined."

"I am.  If Axemage is as good as his word--and I feel that he is--I will go near to Narder Stronghold."  Her eyes blaze with her determination, a fire unquenchable, and she turns away again.  "I WILL mend this bow, no matter what."

She softly hums fragments of a melody that her mother used to sing as a lullaby to her when she was little, and looks out once more across the forest.  "I won't be going alone, Oxious-karrang.  I will be taking someone with me."

"Hm? Who shall you be taking?" He looks inquisitive, not at all minding the slightly absent tact in his question. You assume it is out of concern for your well-being.

Etny smiles a little, thinking back to the lodge.  "I will be taking Elmeir Palepelt, a recent newcomer to the ShalaFang, and to Skyhold.  He is a healer, and pledged his service to me as a hireling of sorts.  We will go to Narder together. Oh!  And Gaare!  I'll be taking Gaare too."

Oxious perks up a bit. "Another healer, you say? Well that would do us well... need more in this kingdom. Not only kobold shamans with their hoodoo, and the few orcs... Poor Dahlia has been overwhelmed, but I am proud of what she has been able to handle and teach." 

He puffs at the pipe a little longer. "Alright. That seems fair indeed. I will continue to send you communication every so often, to make sure you are well... I hope we can find the meteorite you need." 

Some strange, lulling music plays from far out in the courtyards below, carried in by the night wind. The corner of the tiefling's mouth twitches. "It is feeling more like a home here. I pray we can keep it safe."

Etny listens to the music as well, letting its haunting melodies wash over her.  She listens for a little bit longer, and tries to discern where this sound is coming from.  (12 Perception.)

"Home..."

That word alone has spelled a great burden of guilt and loneliness within a chasm so vast within her heart, that a black mood threatens to seize her.  Shaking her head, she looks at Oxious, the blackness of her mind overtaking her.  She ignores it.

For now.

"Safe is fleeting, Oxious-karrang, and liberty is an easily quenchable flame.  I will do what I can to keep this place safe.  You're right," she hides the blackness in her mind behind a deeply empty smile, "it IS feeling like a home here."

The song sounds familiar, a tune you've heard before. It reminds you of the a melody you heard on the ship ride from Dragonshore, something the four-horned tiefling used to play. 

Oxious gives a curt nod, a little comforting sarcasm in his voice. "Yes. A home of vagabonds and wanderers alike. Perhaps that in and of itself will help keep that flame lit here longer than most."

Etny turns softened eyes onto Oxious, and nods back to him.  "Oxious-karrang, I shall return with meteorite, and we will fix the last bow of the Andraya.  That is a promise, my friend.  Your keen mind will be able to delve deeper into the raw magicks that is Andraya.  All-Mother be with you, Oxious.  I must go now, unfortunately, and ready my effects.  This," she says with a little of her own comforting sarcasm regarding the bow she now possesses, "is as much a vagabond's bow as those pieces in your study."  She smiles, but deep within, it feels empty.  With that, Etny rests a hand on his shoulder, nods again, and turning down the stairs, she departs.

You steadily make your way from the castle, noticing the increased security. Guards patrol in teams. Several stand near the gate, having seen what happened with the snake. They talk in dark, quiet whispers together. Your eyes catch faint movement out in the  trees lit by the pale moon. You assume it is the kobold patrols, continuing their assault on the secret and dubious spies that might be lingering. 

You continue to hear the music the entire time you walk. In the upper city you finally spot Bareus, alone, mournfully playing his oud at the edge of a fountain. The water is still, and the beautiful statue in the center is broken, but there is something somber and heart-wrenching about the melody. He seems utterly lost in the music. 

Smoke curls up into the night air from the ShalaFang's stone chimney. Elmeir Palepelt sits outside the lodge upon your return. Having doffed the rest of his armor, he looks much more comfortable in a very simple tunic and pants, with a small woven bracelet upon one arm. He is fully concentrated on whiddling away at some wood... As you observe, It seems he is attempting to make some arrows, a little basket of bird feathers and flint at his side. 

The man looks up, and he smiles brightly. "Welcome back, miss. I hope your trek was a productive one?"

"I think so," Etny replies.  "I have a lot on my mind, but I think tonight we shall get ready."  She turns and approaches, watching his whittling work.  "You're doing some good work there, Elmeir.  Say," she says, seating herself next to him, "how would you like to come with me to Narder Stronghold, just east of the mainland?"

He glances up, surprised. "Oh? I've always avoided the place, personally. Full of dubious pirates and uncomfortable establishments, but..." Elmeir pauses. "If you need to go there, I would be more than happy to accompany you." 

He stands, brushing wood shavings off of his lap. "I can send word to those of my order, as well as those from the nearer villages... should you need tenders for your lodge in our absence. Nature does tend to reclaim things quickly, when left to its own devices."

Etny smiles, this time, a little less empty feeling.  She feels so at ease in this man's presence.  His demeanor and genuine attitude toward life and nature gives her a little reprieve from her black mood.  He is a kind man.  Etny also stands up, and makes her way with him into the lodge.  "That would be wonderful, Elmeir!  I've been meaning to hire caretakers and staff for this place for some time, but I have not had the time or the gold.  It will be very helpful to have those from your own order and others to help out.  Oh," she says, blushing slightly, "thank you for the soup earlier.  I was in such a hurry, but it was delicious.  Harra, thank you."

"Yes, of course my lady. You are most welcome." Elmeir chuckles warmly. "Old family recipe. I'm glad it was to your taste." 

The two of you stand for a moment in a peaceful silence in the shadow of the lodge. Despite the strange dangers of monsters, vermin and reptiles, the long journey ahead, the unknown of the future, the twisting, knife-like heartache of the past... things feel safe in this moment. It is a feeling to be cherished, one that you hope will forever always resonate with the ShalaFang.

Elmeir breaks the quiet first. "Get some rest. I'll work on my missives, and handle the affairs over funding if you'd like? Praises shall soon sing of the ShalaFang all across the country!" With another gentle laugh he kindly bows at the waist. "I will be up at morning's first light to accompany you into that din of thieves known as Nader."

Etny smiles at Elmeir, and bows back to him.  "I think that sounds amazing, sir Elmeir of the ShalaFang!"  She rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes softening.  "I think as long as we do our little part, we shall see much growth here," she says, the black mood beginning to lift from her heart.  

Releasing her hand from his shoulder, she makes her way to her room, and shuts the door.  * Careful, Etny Elvenbridge, * she thinks to herself.  * Do not forget the last time you gave your heart away... *

Regardless, she removes her gear and boots, and with a slight smile on her face, and the tingling redness growing in her cheeks, she falls quickly asleep, content and now at ease.

And So They Go - Of Snakes and Heirlooms - Part 1

A few more months pass. Much of the lower cliffs have lost their snow, the rivers and lakes swelling with the cold melt water. Spring has arrived, and so have some new changes around Arkoshia. 

The castle of Skyhold is in a much fairer state. The outer wall and defenses have been strengthened, and several war machines have been constructed for both on and behind the structure. The new gate house is practically finished, enchantments as well as practical defenses being completed. The tunnels down below have been thoroughly routed and walled in by the gnomes to prevent any unwanted access, and the castle and lower temple to Io have been restored to a much more livable and usable state. 

The gnomes have also gotten quite a lot of construction done in the low and high cities, as well as digging into the mountain itself to create a district for the Orcs. Panapip was happy to report that during the excavation, a few veins of iron ore have been found, as well as a level containing silver. It's made the construction of tools and weapons far easier for Ferrar and Leonar, who have repaired and taken over an old blacksmith building in town. It's smoke stacks constantly puff away, the two men working to supply the intense demand coming to their door. 

Farmers have begun to show up, eager to return to the area and its once fertile soil. One of the first men pledging himself to you was Willem the Bald, the aged patriarch of a large family. He brought with him his wife, five children, and eight grandchildren, who all helped him start up a large farm and cattle ranch. Since he arrived, he's helped bring with him additional trade, new roads, and a more civilian feel to the heavily militarized area. Their families built up homes, started a small market, and even a tavern near the edge of the city. It started to breathe life into Skyhold again. The beginning of a town, and a network of civilization. 

The soldiers seem happier now that they have their own places to stay--thanks to Atriox's suggestions and Oxious' handling of their pay--places where they can lay their head, drink ale, talk and relax after a hard day's work. The kobolds have practically doubled in numbers since you've arrived. The younger generation is rambunctious and excitable, and helpful despite the trouble they sometimes get into. With the fish they bring in from the rivers and the lake to supplement the farms and herds, there is enough food and material to support everyone you have and more. 

It wasn't long before you had more visitors. The gnolls have helped see to that, hunting in the woods and visiting the surrounding settlements, singing songs and performing plays heralding the escapades of your group. Aside from the Blades and their occasional visits to check on your progress, a troop of infantry arrived last month, led by Brordel Bursk, a tan-skinned, burly human and his heavily armored men. They were more than eager to join your cause, perhaps once loyal to a fallen lord of a nearby kingdom.

***

@Andrew Woodhouse

 Your training has paid off greatly, despite having to use a replacement bow and your martial weapons. Your family bow has been on your mind daily, but you haven't heard any news about its repair yet... only Oxious saying he needs more time to look into the magic imbued within it. 

The place you've picked for your lodge was a perfect location, one with a good view of the area upon a small hillock. The structure now finished, you've begun renovating it to your liking. It is a beautiful two story building with a root cellar underneath. Thatched wild grass helps cover and insulate the roof, helping it blend in to the surrounding forest, and a massive stone chimney smells of cooking game. 

A great place of hunting and security, you've noticed more game becoming plentiful in the area--both larger and fiercer than normal. It makes for great sport, and you often spent time practicing with the younger kobolds and even some of the humans when they want a bit of fun tracking a larger beast. It is always a joy, and the peaks of Skyhold and the Arkoshian mountains stand as strong sentinels watching over you. 

But... despite all of the progress and healthy adjustments, you've been having more restless nights. Strange dreams and whispers have come to mind. More than once you've felt an intrusive presence in your sleep, but any time you've jolted awake, weapon in hand and bathed in a heavy sweat... nothing is there but the sound of the wind in the trees.

@Atriox Arkhosia

 Your children are growing strong, and you see their blossoming abilities every day. The strange tattoos on their backs come and go, and even Oxious has been unable to determine exactly what they mean. But it doesn't seem to bother them at all. Dorokor has been working with her orcs as often as possible, and they've even been able to recruit additional orc refugees near the coast. Numbering close to 200 now, she's back into her old ways of whipping them into shape and keeping a close knit on her tribe. 

Now diversified in a few different battle techniques from training with her, Etny, and Atriox as well, they are definitely a force to be reckoned with. The newer human troops were more than willing to keep up their own training, creating a friendly rivalry between the two groups. It seemed to help morale overall. 

The dragonborn sent news from the coast, Vance coming to deliver it personally. He was eager to share all the wonderful progress they've made in turning the area into a port city. It definitely sported their cultural style, but it was a functional, well-maintained harbor with both local commodities, trade with the river towns, and a place larger ships have started docking for trade.

***

You've moved into your lodge, with a rather comfortable room to keep you warm and safe. Soft pelts of your recent hunts are draped over the floor and the bed, an array of browns, tans, creams and whites. Some unique pieces have been gifted to you by the gnomes and even the kobolds, including some tooth and bone decorations and a few lanterns made of bronze. 

You wake that crisp spring morning to find a scroll on your bedside table. It has a wax emblem sealing it in the shape of a goat. You know immediately that it is from Oxious, likely magicked here during the night. He doesn't travel if he doesn't have to, as you well learned during your travels. 

Before you have time to read it though, there is a strong knock on the front door of the lodge. Locked at night due to recent... concerns, you're unsure if this is one of the scouting troops coming to report like normal. The knock sounds again.

Etny flings her legs over the bedside, and rises, stretching.  "Coming," she calls to the door from her room, and approaches.  Retrieving her Poleaxe, she comes to the door, sniffing the air, and making sure to double check anything is wrong with the outsider of the door.  

She undoes the latch and lock beam, lifting it out of its place.  From there, she pulls the door open, revealing the outsider beyond...

As the door swings open, you see a large fellow standing out front. He is a tall man, perhaps a head taller than you, heavily armored with light-colored metal plating. A white fur hood rests over his dark hair, the pelt of a massive winter wolf; it hangs down over his shoulders, another piece wrapped around his right hip. At his other side is a small mace and a satchel, and he smells heavily of healing herbs and spices from the forest. 

"Hello ma'am!" He smiles, bowing slightly but keeping eye contact with you. "Elmeir Palepelt at your service. Am I at the correct residence of an Etny Elvenbridge?"

Etny perks up, her violet eyes bright.  "Eyeh, yes, I am Etny Elvenbridge," she says, bowing back to the tall man, and opening the door further.  "Come in!  Come in!  Make yourself at home!  There's fresh ale, and a little food.  Did you travel far, Elmeir Palepelt?"

She rushes back to the larder of the lodge, and in some haste assembles a plate of breads, fruit, and cheeses.  Shiza!  I need to hire a lodging staff or something!  Etny comes rushing out and sets the plate and a full mug of ale on a nearby table.  Smiliing, she gestures for the hunter to take a seat.  She takes a seat on the other side of the table.  Chuckling, she continues, "you've caught me a little unawares, I'm afraid.  I could fix you something more filling, some tea, venison...," she counts them off of her fingers.  "I could make some eggs if you'd lik--"

He holds up a hand, chuckling. "Tea would be perfect, thank you." 

Elmeir finds a seat, looking around and admiring the beautiful lodge. "Wonderful place you have here. And on the edge of the Arkoshian mountain range... absolutely gorgeous. Very fruitful land indeed." 

He nods at your kindnesses. "I heard about the culling of the evil in the area. Much more than any single group could handle, and growing every day. And yet," he chuckles with a bright smile, "It seems they have vanished into the foothills. And still being hunted, or so say the strange little creatures wandering the towns and villages round about..." 

You can only imagine he's speaking of the gnoll family, who are quite a sight here in Arkoshia.

Etny quickly rises, nodding, and after a couple of short minutes comes back with a steaming hot cup of herbal tea.  "Here you are, Elmeir," she says, setting the steaming mug in front of him, "it's adra root tea from my homeland.  It soothes the aches and cramps of travel.  And yes," she replies, taking a seat across from him, "we have largely cleared a good portion of the evil out of here, yet we cannot quite cull them all.  Skaven are tricky little bastards, I'll say that much."  She grins at the mention of the gnolls.  "Ah yes, the gnolls, as they're called in their homeland.  They'll open their mouths at anything!"

She rests her elbows on the table, her fingers interlocked.  "So tell me, what brings you out this way to Akoshia?"

Elmeir takes a sip of the tea and you can see the pleasure of the taste shine in his face. "Mmm... Well, tales of you, actually." He lifts his cup, gesturing toward yourself. "An old acquaintance of mine was from Sossahl. Specifically the Orthal tribe, I think. He'd spoken a lot of his old country. I'd heard of the difficulties there, including the destruction of the Andraya." 

"So," he chuckles, taking another sip of his drink. "You can imagine my surprise when I started hearing of your stories. Your name has spread, huntress. Quite far indeed. I wished to come meet you, and if possible, extend an offer of my services to you and your lodge. I am a healer by profession, and familiar with working on a battlefield."

Etny's fingers disentangle, and she rests her hands now on her lap.  The sound of Sossahl on the lips of another and the mention of the destruction of her tribe shocks her momentarily, as she wasn't expecting anyone outside of the southern regions of the world to know, and yet travel all that way to Arkoshia.  Shaking her head, she looks back up at the hunter, and eyes him carefully.

"I hope," she says, "that my name spreading so far hasn't attracted too much attention, unwanted mainly."  She smiles again, just happy to have some company with whom she could level with.  Hearing his skills, she is greatly interested now.  "A healer, and familiar with battle..."  She thinks for a moment, counting on her fingers for a moment, making calculations in her mind.  "I accept your services, Elmeir.  I could use a hunter and healer such as you around here.  How do you feel about helping manage the lodge, and hunting large game to keep the hungry fed? And adventuring with me, when I need?"

 Elmeir smiles broadly, his eyes alight. "Absolutely! It would be my honor, miss. I am devoted to your service and can begin immediately." 

He bows politely again. "And this evening, I shall write to my friend telling him of our meeting. He is quite an age already, and is unfit for long travel, but as most from Sossahl seem to be... quite fond of stories." The man chuckles a little. "Would I be lodging here, Miss Elvenbridge? Where can I start?"

"Y-yes, absolutely!  This lodge is mainly for anyone weary from long travel, but I shall ensure one of the staff rooms shall be yours.  If you can begin immediately, I have business in the city, but if you could scout about the area and find what materials you need for healing poultices, herbs, roots, and the like, I will begin a store of these things for you.  Also," she says, "please feel free to come and go as you please.  The hunt is always on, and we could use another skilled hunter in Arkoshia.  Would you be willing to hunt wild game as is needed?  I don't want to shower you with burdens, but...," she trails off.

He stands, reaching to shake your hand. "Not a burden at all, my lady. Willing hands feed many mouths." 

Elmeir chuckles. "I will do my best to hunt where I can, while I search the area for herbs and roots. I saw many promising places on my way here. Perhaps I can start a garden of the more needful ingredients, if it would so please you. I will unload my belongings and attend to this while you take care of your business."

"OH!"  She rushes up, extending a hand, and giving a good firm grip.  "Welcome to the ShalaFang, in Arkoshia, Healer Elmeir!  I will make all the arrangements for you for the garden.  It will be a plentiful plot of land, and walled in.  Also," she blinks, slightly nervous, but excited all the same, "do not hesitate to write to or tell anyone else in the surrounding area about our little establishment."

Etny releases her grip from him, and turns away, heading toward her personal room.  As she's rounding the corner, she calls out over her shoulder, "your room is through this door, down the hall on the right, next to mine!"

"That is splendid," he replies back, following politely after. He carries himself well, almost like a cleric or a paladin of some church. Arriving at the room he bows again with gratitude. "I won't be long, did not have much with me to begin with." Elmeir laughs. "The land is plentiful and provides." 

He drops off a few things from his pack, admiring the space and saying what you can guess is a quiet prayer of gratitude.

Etny enters her quarters, and picks up the scroll from Oxious, unfurling it, and reading it.

You see his script-like writing and his frilly signature at the bottom. It's not a very long message it seems. It reads:

"Hello Huntress,

Your patience has been much appreciated. It is much more of a delicate magic than I originally anticipated.  I believe I have a fix for your bow. Please come speak with me at your earliest convenience. 

With the most generous of sincerity,

Oxious the Fanciful"

Etny rolls up the scroll and tucks it away into her satchel.  'Delicate magic?'  I wonder what that could mean?  She makes her way out of her quarters, and passing by Elmeir, gives him a wave.  "I am going to the city, and shall return soon enough.  I will see what I can do to get a plot of land going for you to plant your garden in."  With that, she makes her way out of the ShalaFang, and descending the stairs, follows the paths that lead into Skyhold.

***

Atriox is on his way to the throne room to meet Vance himself and discuss things. He’s been happier of late, it finally sinking in that his really home. Though he’s still definitely battered and stiff, his accumulated scars and injuries from fights have taken they’re toll. Atriox just works with it not really surprised that his body is how it is. He’s been on the run for 12 years, fighting and surviving.

 Vance waits for you there, bouncing on his heels as he looks out one of the repaired windows. It's a glorious view indeed. When you enter he turns, peppy and excitable as always. 

"Prince Atriox! Brother!" He stalks forward, clapping you on the arm as he shakes your hand. It's almost like a half hug, like someone greeting a family member. "I have heard many things from the other soldiers, but good gracious! What a change." He puts his hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling. "Hardly recognize the place! How have you been?"

Atriox laughs at his young enthusiasm. Though not to different in age, the prince has a habit of treating himself much older

“I can’t complain really, life here is setting into a bit of a routine. People are happy. How’s the port ? Any word from your father or family ?”

He chuckles, his red tail swishing about like a whip. "Father is busy as always. I think he conquered another island down there... hard to keep track, really. My sisters are doing well too I guess. You fancying them?" Vance gives you a funny grin. 

With another laugh he pats your arm again, pacing by the window. "The port is fine. More than fine, really! Already seeing growth and gold from it. I think a shipment went back to father already, he enjoys seeing the goods from other countries. We brought up some too on our way here, interesting stuff from along the river." 

It looks as if there's something else on his mind regarding the port, but he just keeps smiling. "Anything new here in grand ol' Arkoshia?"

(Rolled a 20 on a d100.)

Atriox snorts and points up at the Snakes mutants skeleton hanging above the the throne room in it’s entirety of length 

With a sassy smile Atriox simply says “a little bit. That’s new “

Vance lets out a long whistle as he admires the trophy. It was meticulously preserved and a terrifying sight.

"Well daaaamn! You slew that?!" He looks even more impressed, his face shining with admiration. "Wait til Kybirus sees, he won't believe a word I say." 

Vance laughs again. "Well, perhaps you could help us then. He uh... He didn't want to bother you none. Presentation and all that." The young dragonborn uses air quotes as he says it, rolling his eyes mockingly.

Atriox chuckles with a smile at the young Dragonborns attitude 

“Indeed, such is the way of politics and still newly found alliances. But we are brothers in spirit are we not ? Tell me what I can do to help Vance.”

"Yeah, yeah... that's what he keeps saying. Maybe he thinks its weak if we can't handle it alone but, isn't that why he have allies?" He snorts a little steam out his nose. 

"We aren't sure what's going on really. Just that some of the patrols have been targeted. We're used to slaves rising up once in a while, and we've cracked down on them to make sure that's not the case. It doesn't appear to be this time. Plus the... aftermath is more brutal than we've seen, even from them." 

He clears his throat, trying to find the right words. "Been finding bodies with their heads and tails removed and mutilated. Always arranged in strange ways." He scratches his neck with his claws, finding the thought gross. "Maybe six since the time I left? I haven't seen them myself, but those who go out to get 'em, including Kybirus, said there's been snakes pouring out of the corpses. And some kinda weird symbol on the ground near them. I can't remember it well, but it was definitely dark stuff. He said it was probably someone trying to leave a message." 

He shakes his head, trying to make the mood not so heavy. "Sorry brother. We can talk of happier things. I'm not quite sure how you can help us really, just wanted you to keep an eye on things here, ya know? Don't want you losin' anyone."

As soon as the boy get to the part about snakes Atrioxs eyes go wide. He quickly shuffled around in his bag for the old flag and takes it out, holding it up for Vance to see

“Did what was described to you look like this Brother ?!?!” He asks in a worried and demanding tone.

 He looks taken aback by your change in demeanor. "Uh... I think so? He said it was something like that. I guess some had a snake design wrapped around the body, like it was eating it. Kinda eerie seeing it drawn out like that." He reaches forward, hand hovering but not touching it.

Atriox grunts still very serious

“How many men did you bring ?”

Vance blinks. "Men? A dozen or so, Kybirus was pretty insistent on a larger guard than normal. Why do you ask?"

Atriox grabs his arm gently and firmly and heads out of the throne room 

“Get them ready to ride. And send your boat back without you or them. It’ll serve as a diversion. I promise you an explanation but it will have to wait. Once your done go to my stables, have them prepare horses along with my personal horse. I’ll be along soon. Now go brother, we are in more danger than you think."

***

Passing by several gnomes and a rabble of small kobolds, she continues onward, taking a left once inside the castle gates.  She approaches Oxious' tower, and gives the hard iron-bound wooden door a solid knock.

It opens at your touch, rather silently which surprises you. Oxious is sitting in an armchair with a pile of books nearby, reading one carefully as he sips a cup of strong tea. He looks up and smirks when he sees you.

"Etny, wonderful. Thank you for coming up. I didn't wish to send more in the letter than I had to, force of habit I hate to say." The tiefling closes his book, stands and walks over to one of the larger tables. There are instruments carefully organized about it, both magical and mundane. In the center is your bow, the pieces laid out as if a broken body of a fallen warrior. You see the string carefully wound and set to the side, and smaller wooden splinters catalogued in a little book. 

"Is there anything more you knew about your bow? Aside from it being passed down to you?"

"Oh...uuuuh, well, this bow was indeed passed onto me by my father, and he taught me its ways.  It was always a special kind of wood that the curve arms are made from.  The wood was from Andrayan lands, and could be found at the feet of the vast mountains there.  I am sorry I do not know more.  The string, I think is made from some sort of hempen and kalaforra gut mix, twisted very tightly together.  This is all I know."

(Kalaforra=sabertooth tiger)

Oxious nods, stroking the whiskers on his chin. "Yes... that is all true, for sure. The string is still in fairly good condition, and the wood..." He runs his hand above the pieces, and they shake from a glow of pink magic emanating from his fingertips. "If it were ONLY this Andrayan wood, I could mend it in a heartbeat. Magic is quite helpful for things like this." 

"However..." The tiefling trails off, flipping one of the pieces over. You see more of the core of the bow itself, exposed to the light in the room. It seems to shimmer weakly. "There is magic in this bow that prevents a simple fix such as that."

Etny's brows knit as she approaches, eyeing the strange thing in the core of the broken curve arm.  She had always thought that this was just a simply-made Andrayan bow, and that there was nothing else to it.  This however, showed that it was even more special than she originally thought.  

"Da was always telling me as a little one to never touch this bow, and that I could only handle it when I was eight years old.  He never told me anything about this though.  Not a thing.  I wonder...may I?"

He gestures to it openly. "Be my guest. It knows you best, and even broken as it is registers you as its family."

Etny carefully, delicately reaches out and rests the palm of her hand on the curve arm, and wraps her fingers around it.  Gently, she lifts it from the table, and holds it vertically, her violet eyes watching, not knowing what she could possibly do.

The magic in the core flickers a little more excitedly, small rivulets of ether dripping from it like sap from a tree. Oxious regards you and the bow curiously. 

"What took time was deciphering the components within the magic. It is older, and contains materials I haven't personally come across in my own travels. A lot more research was needed than I thought. It seems to have three parts to it." 

He moves his hand near, not touching it but close enough he can point out various magical qualities. "There is a central core, here. This is the source of the magic and where it is strongest. It appears to be a meteorite of some sort, a metal I am unfamiliar with. From my readings, Sossahl has regular meteor showers, correct?" 

Oxious smiles, gesturing to the next component. "You can see something is wrapped around it. Whether to protect it or enhance its fighting ability I cannot say, but it seems to be... reptilian? Something bleached white. And then there a a third item, a substance grafting both this... skin and the meteor together. It seems to be blood, and my assumption is that it is Andryan blood."

Etny turns the curve arm to her, and looks into the center of the bow.  "Yes, it is true.  We would have seasonal, and even phased meteor showers from my land.  The Orthal are expert miners of this material, and have traded with the Andraya for many centuries.  The only thing I know of that is 'metal' in my homeland," she pauses, musing over the broken bow, "is known in the common tongue as 'Sheolium.'  In our tongue it is...it is called Elektar."

She looks deeper at the broken bow piece in her hand, and rotates it slowly.  The sinewy sheath the Sheolium rod rests in can only be one thing that exists in Sossahl:

Etny sucks in a sharp breath as she realizes, "Einhycacht!"

"We have plenty of Andrayan blood.  Let me see..."  Etny looks around for a blade, arrow, or sharp implement that she could use.  Finding an arrowhead from one of her normal arrows laid out on Oxious' table, she cuts her fingertip, and lets the blood drop onto the sheolium core wrapped in...white kobold skin.  All the while, she begins to softly utter a song to the All-Mother.

As soon as your blood hits the core, it lights up with a brilliant sparkling like the night sky. It almost brings tears to your eyes, reminding you instantly of the evenings filled to the brim with showering meteors. It was a special event that your family was keen to share together, and often lulled you to sleep with the rhythmic flashing of blue and white. It's almost as if it allows you to re-live those moments for a time. 

The song to the All-Mother fills you with warmth and an intense, passionate comfort. Like that of a mother to a child, you feel enveloped in her magic and the flowing of it through you to the weapon.  Oxious watches all the while, making mental notes as you handle the materials.

(17 Arcana check to control the magical properties inherent in this bow, and 7 Survival..bleh...to attempt to assemble it.)

You feel the magic flow over your skin like water, filling the air not just with the scent of mint and clean snow, but pine, cedar and river water. It reminds you, with a terrible ache, of family. Although able to harness the magic inside of it, it is too much to control and, at the same time, to assemble the bow properly. The pieces almost seem to reject one another.

Oxious sighs. "I'm sorry. It seems to mend this we need not only your blood but... the other magical components. At least a small piece of meteor, and this strange pale hide."

Etny backs away from the table, trying to stem the flow of tears threatening to escape her eyes.  The only place such a meteor element could ever be found was the ruins of her people at the perpetual wintry foothills of the Spine of the World mountain range.  She covers her mouth, and strives to keep her composure.  She was close.  So very very close to having her bow back, and now knowing its properties and those things that made it especially powerful against those it hunted, made the sting of not being able to bring it back together to completion all the more poignant.  

"Ma...  Da...  Oras elim hegenti riras llann!  Elektar...as Elektar!  Shiza!  Ma...  Da...  Oras elim hegenti maras ata-alann," she sinks to the floor, unable to quell her emotions any longer.  She feels useless, hopeless, and alone.  No family, no home, and nothing but her vengeance to drive her forward.  And now, nothing more than a broken magical bow to witness her paltry efforts to keep what memory she had of her family alive.  She hugs her arms tightly around herself, and sobs weakly.  Finally after some moments, she let's herself stand, and reaching into her satchel, she produces the hide that Zabrenossk had given her down in the caves of Skyhold.  

"Here is your 'strange pale hide,' Oxious.  It is the hide of white kobolds.  May the dourest, most heinous of curses haunt them after their bloody graves..!"

With that, the Huntress of Andraya takes off running, not bothering to close the door behind her, and departs the presence of the tiefling.

Oxious, although polite with you often, seems to struggle with wanting to comfort you. He almost had a brotherly air as he looks between you and the Kobold hide, distraught, and reaches after you as you run. You hear him calling your name worriedly as you depart.

***

At that point Atriox breaks off and heads for the hands tower quickly. Shouting over his shoulder 

“If you see Kora along the way tell her to get her ass to oxiouss office !”

Then Atriox is gone around a corner.

Vance looks even more surprised, but nods anyway. Even though he himself is a prince, you're sure he's used to being given orders by older, wiser people rather often. "Y-yes Atriox, will do. I'll head that way now." 

You turn the corner and head down the hall only to run right into Dorokor. She gives you a sneering smile. "Get my ass to his office huh?" You can tell she's being playfully sexy about it as if up to some mischief, but her expression changes as she studies you. "What's got your scales itching, Atriox?"

Atriox stops flat in his tracks when he sees her around the corner. Her words are playful and more than suggestive. 

“I....I uh.....require your assistance with something.....

He keeps trailing off as he looks at her damn it what is going on. He shouldn’t be so distracted. After a moment he simply mutters in an exasperated voice

“You do”

He growls and picks her up by her legs as he slams her into the wall. He starts hungrily kissing her while trying to talk in between 

“There’s....(kiss) a.....(kiss) emergency....(kiss)......we should.....really (kiss) attend to.....(kiss) it”

(omg xD Lollllll distracted indeed) 

She actually lets out a laugh for once, snickering in between the kisses. "Your emergency (kiss) ... meetings are (kiss) ... boring as (kiss) ... hell." 

Kora grabs one of Atriox's horns and pulls his head back, biting at his neck. "You know, you're not getting my ass into Oxious' office any faster this way. What's the matter, prince?"

Atriox grunts and calms down a little. He rest his head on her shoulder next to her neck breathing heavily. Finally he looks at her with a smile and sets her down begrudgingly 

“Come to the meeting and find out. I promise this won’t be boring “

 Dorokor seems to pout a little, a small grumble in her throat. "Oh alright... if you insist." Pushing her braids back behind her ear and straightening her armor, she follows after Atriox toward the tower. 

"Your meetings are fine, by the way..." She grunts quietly, feeling awkward at voicing a roundabout apology. "I just meant they are boring compared to other things. Any meeting is."

Atriox grunts with slight amusement 

“Kora we have two kids together, so you think I don’t know when your being playful. There not fun for anyone but they’re part of being a leader amongst other leaders. Cohesion.”

He says the last word with an air of playfulness 

“Maybe later we should explore the possibilities of cohesion.”

As he walks he turns to wink at her

The chieftess snorts in amusement. "Well that makes the prospect of a meeting more bearable. You could have just led with that." 

She playfully pulls at your tail as she follows behind you, her tusks and fangs protruding in a smile. "I miss our nighttime engagements."

Atriox playfully slaps her leg with his tail 

“Why just at night?"

It was said in a very playful manner but he stops as he’s reminded of something more serious 

“And by the way ...just so you know......the royal wing is far from done, but a part of it is for you. Your part of my family now and not just because we have two kids. Your as much of a queen as anybody can be of this place......tho I’m not sure these walls have ever seen one like you. I even came up with a title for you...”

 The playful smirk fades just slightly, your words sinking in. "The royal wing? I didn't think..." She looks away, unsure of how to respond. "I didn't think you saw me quite that way." 

Dorokor folds her arms, walking quietly with you a moment. "What title did you have in mind?"

Atriox stares at her seriously but at the title he gets a bit of a smirk

“Bloodreigna or in common.....The Blood Queen.”

 Dorokor seems to mull over the title for a moment, taking in all the meaning that entails. Your smirk helps soften her mood again. 

"The Blood Queen, huh?" She sneers slightly in play. "Kind of on the nose, don't you think?"

Atriox moves his head from side to side with a smile

“That’s a private joke but it’s more than that. Your my queen of action. My greatest fighter and the one I’ve chosen to lead my armies. Blood is in your nature as a vampire and as a orc leader. This title.....won’t require marriage like traditional queens....not that I’m opposed to marrying yo....uhhh sorry just saying I don’t want to force anything on you.”

He shrugs And gives her an encouraging smile 

“ I know you don’t care for politics and I will need to marry a traditional queen for that. I have someone in mind...but in no way does that diminish.....it doesn’t affect how I feel about you is what I’m trying to say damn it Bonebreaker."

 Dorokor lets out a barking laugh and she runs her hand along Atriox's jaw and cheek. "Seeing you flustered is a nice treat." 

She gently tugs his beard, then strokes it as she studies him carefully. "I get what you're saying. And I understand. I'm not that petty. I can't say I won't be a little jealous..." The orc tilts her head teasingly. The love in her eyes is apparent. 

"Perhaps you can give me a more thorough tour of the royal wing later. We can have a..." Kora leans forward and plants a small kiss on his snout. "...cohesive discussion on our feelings."

Atriox grunts and murmurs some sassy reply before turning to continue walking. As he does his tail swats Kora on the ass.

As he walks away the corridor is filled with his chuckles.