Sheila pulls the ships out of the harbor early, seeing as there was a touch of arson and murder just outside the fortified city's walls. She wasn't wanting to chance anything, and it didn't take long for the Clover to catch back up with the small fleet after that.
You set sail for the west, a favorable wind at your backs and cloudless skies ahead. At least, for a little while...
A storm hits the second day, throwing you a little off course. You're able to take shelter in a bay off of a small chain of islands, mostly uninhabited except for wildlife. Sheila commands that no one to step foot on the islands though, and as the rain clears the third day you can see why: All along the shore are stones chiseled, painted and shaped like skulls... A whole coast full of death omens.
A few more days pass and things seem to be looking up. You're passing around the northern edge of the Maori Islands, which Dahlia often watches from a distance up on deck. When asked, she gladly shares of the politics and geography she can remember.
Dorokor improves each day, new blood showing up at the door in little closed boxes. Even a healthy vial of nymph blood from Ismene, which surprises you both, appears one morning to Kora's delight. It seems a few donors have gone to Dahila (or she has sought them out) with willingness to help.
Everyone seems rather aware of her and Atriox's powers, but despite any mixed reactions about them they are treated kindly. Bareus the bardic tiefling has written some new songs concerning the adventures you've been on, and the other pirates tell stories both new and old to keep the days from dragging on too long. Only the cook grumbles about superstitions and bad omens, but he knows to keep his mouth shut depending on who's around.
***
One morning Vele hops aboard the Annabel, looking around for Atriox. She startles when she sees the fellow tied to the mast, this having been her first time over since they'd left port. Tanarukk is weather beaten, soiled and sunburnt, dozing as best he can in the shade of the sails... Or at least she thinks he is, until one of his eyes opens on her with cruel intent.
She jumps a bit, scampering to the deck below in a hurry. "Atriox?"
Atriox yells from his room where he is at a desk
“In here !"
Vele patters over and pushes the door open, peering in.
"Hello, sire! Everything going well?"
Atriox grunts and keeps flipping through a book
“I suppose so. Now what can I do for you ?”
Having a hard time reading his mood, Vele steps in and tries to be as polite and professional as possible.
"Just reporting on how things are going on the Nightingale. We've restructured the nest to accommodate hatchlings better... Darr is working with the pirates; they're training more of the kobolds on how to care properly for a ship. They're taking to it well."
She rocks on her feet, thinking through her points. Trying to slip it in, she quickly adds, "Tak has been put in charge of the hatchery with Tepid, a-and... Oh! A small group of the females have started helping in the kitchen." She tilts her head. "The cook on our ship is not as... seasoned as the one on here."
Vele bows politely and tries to avoid fidgeting. "Anything you'd like me to do for you? Or report back on?"
Atriox grunts again closing the book he was flipping through. He stands and stretches, his wounds now healed nicely
“Yeah could you find a bring Dahlia to me Vele ? Me, Sheila and her need to have a discussion about our next destination l.”
As Atriox finishes he’s already heading to the door to track down the captain. Over his shoulder he says
“Thanks Vele. Don’t know what I would do without you.
Vele lets out a relieved sigh. Her little claws can be heard pattering back downstairs as you make your way up on deck. The sunlight is bright and glaring off of the surface of the ocean. A faint fog hovers on the distant horizon, and you can see ships out near the shore surrounding the far islands to the south.
You make your way to the helm where the captain is steering the ship. She spots you and nods with a cocky smile. "Ahoy there, what can I do for ye, Atriox?"
Atriox nods and pats her on the shoulder as her hands are busy
“I wanted to discuss these islands. If I’m correct one of them are home to a clan of Red Dragonborn. Know anything?"
Sheila eyes them off to the side. "Aye, often belay those islands to avoid them. Used to make business there on the neutral ones until Dolumithl took them. Some called it a liberation, others called it a massacre."
Dahlia approaches then, glancing between the two. "Hello! Something you called me for?"
Atriox chuckles at her enthusiasm
“Hello my dear. Your a sight for sore eyes. Now I must ask you some questions......regarding your homeland. Would that be ok ?”
She lifts her chin a little, trying to not take too much time to contemplate. "Yes, that's... fine. I don't see why not. I can share all I know."
Atriox takes her hand
“I appreciate your strength on such a sensitive subject. Now I need those Dragonborn. It’d be a great start to my empire. Anything that might help meet that end is what I want to know. Same with you Sheila.”
Sheila just nods. "Aye, I see. We could try for one of the more neutral ports, or throw up a flag... Safer to take just one ship, perhaps."
Dahlia looks taken aback. Biting her lip, she paces a bit on the deck, looking at the horizon. "If so, we might be able to try the island I grew up on... Marastir, the western city."
"Though," Sheila thinks, resting her elbow on the wheel. "His main temple is on the largest island in the middle. The Dragon's Lair." She chuckles. "No dragons there but him."
Atriox thinks it over while pacing and listening.
“Hmmm Could we get to the middle island safely? Or does that risk everything and everyone on these ships ?”
"Depends on his mood," Sheila laughs. "He may humor it. Think it be cute that ye sail your fleet of kobolds and orcs into his domain. Might listen."
She turns the wheel slightly, adjusting for the wind. "But if he knew of yer treasures, he may have a right mind to take the ships and make ye part of his empire."
Atriox snorts
“He calls these islands a empire ? Bahhhh please. How do you know this “dragon” so well anyways Sheila?”
Sheila looks slightly uncomfortable. "When he was first growing his reach, I was part of a crew that did work for him. Didn't last too long."
"Dahlia raises an eyebrow. "Slave trade?"
The pirate huffs and shrugs. "Sometimes."
Atriox chuckles and pats Sheila on the back
“Your to hard on yourself Sheila. You decided it wasn’t right and got out. That’s what matters my dear captain.”
Atriox leans on the rail in front of the wheel and thinks. He finally speaks
“Take us in captain. Main island, all ahead full.”
Sheila nods in appreciation. "Too true. Our actions surely define us."
Turning, she gives the signal. A flare is fired off the back of the ship to alert the others and you all move forward. All three ships raise a flag of peace.
Dahlia looks a little grim but smiles at you nonetheless. She fiddles with her holy necklace and heads below deck to gather a few things together.
As you move forward along the coastline, you dip among the islands and into their territory. Smaller ships with red, hard-shelled covers and dagger-like protrusions begin to encircle you. The crew grows silent and watchful, plugging ever forward. There is no going back now.
As you make it closer to the main island, you can see a towering structure amid the tall palms and white beach sand. It looks to be a monumental pyramid of sorts, decorated in what you can only imagine is warpaint and blood. Intricate designs are carved into all the trees surrounding the shore, like crude tattoos and wards against evil--or good, perhaps.
As you arrive near the coves surrounding it, the smaller boats cut off your approach. Cymbals and war drums pound out a very erratic tune as one figure stands atop the closest mast. Blazing red scales catch in the sunlight, enhanced by blood-red gemstones and intricate, metal armor pieces.
"Koooor-ak! Kasak foos galik!" He howls up at the ship, a broken, archaic version of draconic tongue. "What has recklessly brought you into the domain of Dolumithl?"
Atriox grunts at this lone figure addressing him. He moves forward on his own boat as to stand out. Atriox clears his throat and answers the question in precise and clear Draconic across the water
“I have come to meet this so called Dragon and his army that I’ve heard so much about from across the ocean. One Dragon to another.”
A series of bellowing horns sounds, starting from the ship and echoing away into the trees. It seems to be some call and answer system, trailing all the way to the inner domains of their kingdom.
"It will be permissible." The voice calls back, seething with humor. "You may bring a boat to shore and will be led before Dolumithl. The large vessels will remain here."
Atriox grunts and quickly responds in Draconic
“Understood. The terms are accepted.”
Atriox turns away and looks at Sheila
“Protect these ships and they’re crews above everything else Sheila. I’ll take care of myself.”
She nods, a sly smile on her face. "Aye, will do. Good luck."
You find one of the small boats slung to the side of the ship and have it lowered down. Within very little time you are approaching the shore, more draconic vessels following after you. You feel surrounded but confident.
Closer now to their civilization you can see how grand of a kingdom he's built here on these strange islands. The shore is dotted with small huts and hovels, lower class buildings and those of slaves. Several humans fish down at the water as you approach, eyeing everything warily. They look threadbare and scarred, marked with strange branding in visible places.
The red dragonborn who addressed you earlier lands with a hearty thump on the beach. Marching over to you, his tail swishes with power and he smiles down--just a few inches taller than yourself. You can see now that he has scars running down his nose and neck;
"I will take you in." He grunts, gesturing forward with a claw. There is definitely an air of pride in his voice.
Atriox nods to his fellow Dragonborn
“Very well. Lead on.”
You're taken down the main road and you can see how intricate this little island society has become. There is definitely a class system in play, with numerous slaves and indentured servants going about doing their work. New temples and buildings are being labored over, the smell of cooking fires permeates the air, as well as burnt offerings atop strange, archaic altars.
People turn to watch, especially the other red dragonborn. They are all very well built, even the leaner ones being tall and powerful members of their society. They seem to favor tattoos, painted over their scales in interesting patterns, as well as detailed and intricate clothing. But despite all of this they seem intrigued by the appearance of a white dragonborn. Truly you haven't seen many other colored types at all, let alone so many of your own kind in one place. White seems scarce indeed.
You make it to the main temple, outside of which is the final moments of a sacrifice. Along a section of the main stairs a human slave is laid out, their heart and liver ripped from their back as a strange knife-like object slices their throat in three places. Priests and acolytes croon in a strange way, their dark eyes following you as you are lead inside.
The room is filled with delicacies, furs and fresh meat, hung and free from insects due to the heavy perfumes burning in lamps. Females of various races, concubine slaves and servants mill about for various services the court requests. A small group of lightly clad female dragonborn drape around a couch where a very regal looking leader sits.
"Dolumithl..." The fellow with you bows low with respect, sweeping his arms back and lowering his head.
The leader growls in his throat. He is extremely powerful looking, muscular and battle-worn. A long beard of tendrils flows from his chin, tied together with rings. All along his head and back rests a red dragon-like crest, frilled and tapered, nestled between his two massive horns. He wears fine clothing with pieces of polished armor, most of it favoring his deadly claws and a bladed weapon at the end of his tail.
He tilts his head with intrigue, and just a slight bit of humor. "And who are you, who has come before me in my very kingdom? With three... very fine ships, I might add."
Atriox grunts as he makes no move to bow or pay homage. At best this man is his......Equal. At worse.....well we shall see.
He steps forward a bit and speaks in Draconic directly to the leader
“Indeed they are very fine ships. Thank you for noticing. My name is Prince Atriox ,The White Flame, rightfully ruler of the Kingdom of Skyhold. I have come to seek allies of my brethren and I heard tales of you and your men from across the sea. You were along the way and I decided you were worth the visit.”
The warlord flicks his tail left and right, contemplating your approach. "Worth the visit, eh? And what say you to our growing empire, hm? Prince Atriox, potential ally of Skyhold?"
He definitely seems to be testing you, curious at how you'd respond. There is no worry in his demeanor, no fear at all. He knows he has the advantage here, in his throne room, surrounded by men while you stand starkly and apparently alone.
Atriox looks around, his tail also flicking around as he does. He refuses to be afraid of this bully
“I think......that you’re doing rather well for yourselves. Though to be frank I’d be careful what you call an Empire. More like an Island kingdom. Though I’m no lover of humans I couldn’t help but notice how many your keeping as slaves. Must be difficult.”
He stops looking around a directly back at the leader
“An Empire is exactly what I came here to discuss though. Could we have some privacy perhaps?”
Dolumithl snorts, black smoke coming from his nostrils. He roughly pushes away the concubines and waves to the other servants to exit. As they do he stands, sizing you up.
"Come."
He turns, his tail blade scraping against the floor with an agonizing sort of screech. Guiding you along you are taken into a room adjacent from this one, with wide open balconies looking out over the bustling island.
"Humans are useful for but a few things. Slaves. Pleasure. Sacrifice. I am not wasteful of the resources the land, young... prince."
He folds his hands behind his back, eyeing you. There is an evil, powerful look there. "So you have land, yourself? Where? What benefit will it see my people, and what can you promise me if I provide you my men? My might? My infamy?"
Atriox leans on the railing of the balcony contemplating his next words carefully. He makes his mind up and grunts in affirmation.
“ There will be time enough later to tell you of my kingdom. I’m here to talk about an Empire. I see many of our kind here. But what is your clans origins ? What do you know of our kind as a whole ? Where we come from and such ?”
The tyrant picks at his teeth with a claw, watching.
"You purposefully ignored my question. People don't get chances to do that.... But there's something about you I like, so I'll humor you."
Swinging around his tail he puffs his chest out, looking quite deadly. "We've been in this land as long as memory serves. From its volcanic force we sprung like blood from the sea. Blood that seeps, covers and purifies."
He looks at his claws, contemplating. "People say we're born from the blood of the gods, even. But all I know for sure is that what matters... is what is here." He spreads his arms out, indicating the small kingdom he's built along these lands. "The dead are dead. Only the living matter. They're the ones that remember. And I intend to make my name memorable."
His eyes glisten dangerously.
Atriox nods his head standing straight as he looks out
“That’s understandable. We all want that, after all if you believe in the stories as I do.....the one where we come from the blood of Io ? To seek power, fame, and fortune is in our nature, our blood. The blood of dragons. Our kind was once united believe it or not. Under one strong empire, The Empire of Arkoshia. After it’s distraction we scattered to the wind like mice. A clan hopping up here and there.......pathetic. We can be so much more, we deserve so much more. It’s our birthright for Ios sake.”
Atriox slams his fist on the the rail in anger
“The time has come again for our kind to rise under the banner of our empire again. I have most of the means, the money and the willpower to see it done, but what I’m lacking is man power and fellow Dragonborn. I’m inviting your people to be the first to join of our kind. Along with an Orc war tribe, and an army of our littler brethren the Kobolds. I’ve already started taking over Baralona and my mountain kingdom across the sea waits to be reclaimed.....once I have it......nothing will stop me”
Dolumithl strokes his beard, his eyes narrowing. He paces a short distance as if considering what you're offering. His tail swishes an inch from the floor.
"What do you need then? To retake the old fallen kingdom? Men? Arms?"
He doesn't look at you, not giving anything away on his face. But he seems tense with nervous anticipation. Excitement.
Atriox nods smiling to himself
“Exactly. If you align with me, give me say.........half your men and arms for them of course, I will personally see to it that your kingdom here prospers and grows more than ever. As the First Dragonborn Lord in my Empire you would have considerable influence and fame. I don’t think there’s much room for anything to go wrong here. Blood,Fire and War. All the Glory will be ours.”
(Roll a persuasion check my good sir)
(19)
He nods slowly. "Good. Let us retake what is ours. No others shall stand before us. Before our kind."
With a pleasant smile he approaches, slicing his hand on his blade and holding it fourth to you to shake. Blood drops thick from the wound, filling the air with an invigorating scent.
Atriox uses all of his willpower to ignore his base instincts and not let his hunger seep through the cracks in his facade.
Atriox does the same and slashes his hand open with a deadly claw. He extends it and shakes the red dragons hand
“We may not share the same views on everything but I sense together we can do great things. I will send word once we’ve taken back Skyhold.”
He pulls you close, his breath hissing in your ear. "I look forward to it, comrade."
Releasing your hand with a wringing grip he steps back. "I shall mobilize a ship from my own fleet. Don't keep me waiting."
He turns and waltzes away, eager to send his men to this mountain... His behavior seemingly dismissing you.
Atriox grunts and thinks
(Well that was easy enough.....but I’m going to have to keep an eye out for that one I am.)
He heads torwards the exit to watch the men he’s getting from here prepare to leave
The slaves and commoners watch from a distance as orders are barked in draconic. They look nervous as soldiers form ranks, gathering gear, supplies and weapons with terrifying efficiency. They look stone-faced and cold-eyed, the red scales of at least three hundred glinting in the sunlight. A brazen horn sounds in the distance as one of the war ships is brought around the bay, much larger and deadly-looking than even the small ones that escorted you here. It could easily exceed the Annabel Lee in terms of power.
You glance around. The sacrifice from earlier has been cleaned from the steps by other slaves. The blood stains still remain stark on the pale rock, the only memory of that man.
One fighter approaches you, a dragonborn with strange covers on his head. On closer inspection it looks as if his horns were dipped in molten metal, gleaming steel as they catch the light. Both have crests of the kingdom engraved around them, a lattice of thorns and skulls. He has a barbed piercing running through his nose.
Whipping around his sword arm to you he presents his serrated weapon, lengthwise, as a declaration or order. "Ready to depart."
You realize the ship itself is already outfitted and set for war, long before you ever got here. It seems Dolumithl is rather prepared for anything that may come his way.
Atriox nods to the Dragonborn
“Very well then let’s get underway. What is your name ? I assume you are in charge of these men ?”
"Vraknaar. Yes sir." The dragonborn nods and stows his weapon. As soon as he does, the others behind him stand at attention, their feet apart and sword points in the ground.
"Ready to depart when you are." His black eyes stare at you, unblinking. Although he is one of your kind, being in this environment has raised him--and the others--in quite a different mentality than you've ever seen a soldier.
As you look around the rest of the area, you see others loading in a few extra furnishings for the ship--likely more slaves. It seems this pace is full of them, with only Dragonborn at the top.
The trees nearby blow in a salty breeze, and you spot a group of individuals watching from a nearby balcony. It's not too far up from you, and one in particular smiles. It's a red female dragonborn, a bearing to her quite like that of the tyrant ruler. Around here are somewhat less royally-clad dragonborn, a few a mix of other colors and styles of horns. They seem not to care too much at the strange proceedings, engaged in their own conversation.
You also spot a small market of interesting goods--fruits and roots that you're unfamiliar with that seem to only grow on these islands. There also seems to be a large, strange lizard saddled in the stables nearby--odd for an island kingdom. Even more odd that the lizard has large wings like a bird, and a sharp beak.
(Make a perception check for me
(Raw 17)
Based on the tinge in the air and the cloud cover on the horizon, you can tell the light you currently have will be fading soon--a storm is on the way. Although you can guess these red dragonborn vessels are heavy enough to withstand the torrents here, you're not sure about the others ships--especially since the Clover has been damaged somewhat at Lamprey Bay.
"Sir?" Vraknaar snorts, watching you look about.
Atriox snorts not looking at the soldier as he continues to look at the sky. After a moment he turns to the other Dragonborn and points at clouds closing in
“There’s a storm closing in belay the mustering and the bring my ships and the your ship to shore. We stay for the night and we’ll leave on the morrow when there’s better winds. Save our energy for fights that are worth it. Hop to while good weather remains. That is all”
Atriox nods to Vraknaar one last time and heads back torwards the palace as he does he stops and looks at the woman who smiled at him for a long moment befor continuing inward to seek the leader of these lands once more
is no where to be seen inside, but you are approached by another fellow; a lanky, yellowish, bronze sort of dragonborn. He's very tall and thin, old, and regal. When he speaks, his draconic is tinged with a strange accent.
"Welcome again, Prince Atriox of Arkoshia... is there something else you require?"
He stares, his hands folded in the large sleeves of his robes. Up in the rooms around you, you hear the faint sounds of revelry and festivities.
Atriox nods respectively while folding his arms together and smiling. He replies in his best Draconic
“I apologize for my second intrusion but I was rather wondering if we might stay tonight and leave tomorrow due to a incoming storm. I would ask for your masters hospitality and lodging for myself tonight.”
He nods. "Very well. The lord is.... indisposed at the present time. But he has rooms set aside for guests of the kingdom." There's a hint of a smile at this, which makes you wonder how often, or rather, what kind of guests this place receives.
Leading you along one of the airy corridors, you end up in a large, spacious room with a door-less frame. There are comfortable lounge-style beds and couches, along with a hooka stand on a table. Standing in the corner, almost unnoticable, is a human male, plain clothed and keeping his eyes averted.
Atriox thanks the Dragonborn and approaches the bed to sit for a moment on the end of it. He then addresses the human
“What’s your name ?”
The human looks up, his sun-tanned skin and shaved head an indicator of his status. He looks confused for a moment, as if not used to being addressed like this.
He clears his throat, averting his eyes away from your face. "D-dokaal." (two-legged, or human)
He bows a little. "Aussir maekrix." (ruler, lord of white)
You can tell he's attempting to speak in draconic the best that he can. It seems like a necessity here in this place. He waits expectantly, knowing you might need something.
Atriox grunts blowing out some steam from his nose
In common he replies
“Relax. Though I dare not set you free, you can relax for the night. I can attend myself. Sit.”
He gets up and heads out into the hall to look around and explore
The slave sits on the nearest chair obediently, letting you leave and do as you will.
As you head out into the hall, you find the temple well furnished with frond plants, pottery and red-colored stone tiles. It's all well laid out, with wide rooms and corridors for the bigger dragonborn to pass through comfortably.
You spot a group of younger dragonborn crossing along ahead of you, including the regal-looking female from earlier. Around her are smaller, younger females and even some males--some with different facial shapes and colored scales.
(Roll a perception check)
(15)
A few snippets of conversation catch your ear as they pass by. From one of the ganglier-looking fellows you hear "....beat him again."
Following a little behind, you hear him growl, "If he fails to light the candles one more time, then let his cries of pain be the offerings to the gods."
"I don't know why you bother, brother." The oldest female seems like she couldn't care less. "It's not as important as what the vandals did to the temple. Symbols were carved on several statues this time. Someone's getting boiled for that, once we catch them."
Her eyes catch your movement down the opposite hall and she pauses for a moment. "Ah, our resident company for the evening." The others turn and glance your way.
"You," she gestures, as if ordering you to approach. "News from other lands is entertaining. Join us for a meal, won't you?"
Atriox stops without looking back for a moment. He smiles to himself. He hasn’t had fun in a good while.....
He suddenly disappears as they watch and after a few moments of suspense he chuckles to himself amongst the darkness and talks as he reappears in front of the one who addressed him
“I generally like to know somebody’s name before I dine with them my lady.”
He takes her hand and gives it a bold kiss. With a smile still on his lips
“So who are you.......besides the most beautiful thing on this island that is.”
He doesn’t mean it in the truest sense he hasn’t really gotten a good look at her really and just put the nice words there for effect
(Investigation nat 18)
The others gasp and step back, glancing around like they've seen some kind of ghost or spirit. When you reappear in front of the female, she looks rather taken aback. A sense of playfulness kindles in her gold eyes.
"My, my.... Entertaining and a charmer I see. What a unique treat."
Up close she is a stunning individual, deep crimson ruby scales highlighted with tinges of gold along her torso, crests and horns. Her horns themselves stretch back off her head like a fierce, lovely crown, and are the most elegant-looking compared to the others around her. Dressed in white silks and gold like the others, she carries herself like a queen.
"If my name is what it will take for you to join us, then I am more than willing. I am called Vyrasira."
Atriox does a double take on the inside. Most beautiful thing on the island indeed. It’s a good things he’s got gear on......he straightens up and holds his arm out for her to take with a charming smile
“I will gladly accept as I’m a stranger here and would love the company. May I have the honor my lady Vyrasira ?”
Her lips quirk into a smile. "You may." The others chuckle, mostly excited to have such an intriguing visitor with them.
You continue down the hall that they were traveling, past many rooms open and airy. Vyra's brother continues his conversation in hushed tones with another young dragonborn, a male with strange blue patterns along his arms.
Turning to enter a grand hall, a table has already been set for these children of the tyrant himself. The servants, seeing another with them, scramble to set up an extra place setting as quickly and pleasantly as possible. The blue-armed brother snickers and snaps at them as they leave, enjoying watching them flinch.
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