Starting Date and Time: Jadeyan 13th, 300 DM, Mid-Morning

Starting Location: Pyresia, The City of Dragons

CS URLs: Drachiathoryx and GM

Pyresia only had two seasons. Hot, and rainy. The hot season was long, the bright sweltering monotony broken only by the occasional typhoon that lashed ineffectually against the volcanic mountain. The rainy season was humid and often overcast, and the beach on either side of the deep harbour grew swampy. But no matter what the season, Pyresia was a city of fantastic natural scenery. The frequent rains brought steam out of the lava pits to bring glistening dew to the bright veins of gemstone that sprawled all over. In the depths of the city the lava flows ran through a course of dwarf-made aqueducts, the orange glow reflecting on the underside of stone bridges and the fronts of shops as it oozed down the center of some of the larger boulevards. In addition to the lava itself, huge crystal geodes sprouted everywhere, mixed in with the dazzling and often phosphorescent jungle greenery that clung tenaciously to the elegant stonework. In some places, the coloured gemstone was underfoot, and pedestrians could look down through the street at the level below.

The upper half of the city, clustered around the steepest part of the peak, were the Balconies. Huge platforms clustered around the nearly vertical slope that served as the launch-pads for the dragons who lived there. Tunnels in the black basalt, some natural, some dwarf-craft, lead from those private homes deeper into the subterranean portion of the city, and were the only means of visiting by non-flighted people. At any time, day or night, colourful dragons patrolled the skies or strolled through the streets, many of them with simple markings painted on their wings.

Drachiathoryx lived in one such Balcony. It was a lofty residence for a half-dragon, but it didn't belong to her. Perhaps one day she would save up enough to afford a lavish home of her own, but for now she settled on being a continual thorn in Mojavico's side. But that was only when she was actually home, and right now she was not. The red-scaled half-breed was perched on the top of a large orange geode, legs and tail dangling as she watched people walking back and forth on the street below. Many of the streets were split-leveled, one half running over the roofs of the stone shops while the other was level with the doorways. This helped keep draconic feet from crushing human-sized citizens. The further away from the mountain itself, the less the architecture was designed to fit over-sized creatures.

It had rained the night before, so everything was damp with steam even though the clouds had cleared. As the day progressed, the sun would emerge from behind the peak and shine down on the western side of the city and the harbour beyond, but for now the foggy tendrils lingered. There was a play going on in one of the fancy amphitheaters nearby, and Drache could hear the uproar of the crowd as they laughed at the antics of the actors on stage. The Art District was enormous, the ornate roofs of museums and playhouses and the Artisan's Guild each trying to outdo the rest. But the budding Elementalist was focused on something much closer at claw. One of the elegant lava-flow channels coursed nearby. The air above it shimmered with the deadly heat, but Drache enjoyed it. Close to the smoldering stream was dryer than the rest of the tropical city. Perhaps one day she should visit a desert. There were supposedly all sorts of things to find in the mysterious wastes. Lots of fun ruins to explore!

Every now and then the glowing morass produced a tongue of flame, which was why the trenches were deep and there were few wooden structures in the city. Drache found that when these little sprites appeared she could capture them, mold them, hold them in her claws and bend them into all sorts of shapes. It was tiresome to do so, especially for very long, but if she was willing to endure the exhaustion afterwards she could form the most fantastic fireballs that either roared hotly or sparked with white zaps, depending on what she wanted. Or she could make the flames dance in long gleaming tendrils. It hadn't taken long to figure it out, though she didn't dare practice inside near her priceless books for fear of mishaps.

But even as she made a fiery pegasus the size of her hand flap around and prance along the cracking surface of the lava, she couldn't manipulate the ooze itself short of plunging her own hand into it. It was terribly frustrating and after an hour of trying to bend it to her will, she simply snorted contemptuously, smoke puffing from her nostrils, and slipped from the orange geode, landing lightly on her bare talons.

"Something to think about on the road ahead," she supposed, settling her loaded backpack against the small of her back where it wouldn't interfere with her wings.

Peridiath stood before several other dragons, one from each breath, as well as the three dwarven guildmasters. The Wyrmoot looked down at her from their shadowed seats, faces obscured for this was not an open meeting. This was something that needed handled subtly, secretly. "And you are absolutely sure of this information Sky Talon Peridiath? There can be no doubt."

The blonde woman smiled a bit seductively, "Of course I am sure. We've confirmed this multiple times. My contact in the Screamers also supports the information, without knowing of our findings. There are people, mostly humans, hunting our scouts, but only when in Visadon. They never hunt fleshlings. They are hunting others too, races they seem to deem bestial, impure. We don't know exactly who they are, or whom they represent. But they've attacked the Screamers just as often for the same reason. The most we've learned is that these attacks have only begun last season. We also believe they have come from the west. We also have learned the word 'Justicar'"

Another voice called out, "This cannot go unpunished, but we will need more information. What do we know of out west, from times past?"

Peridiath answered, "Not as much as I'd hope. Ancient villages and one large city, Vircastoria. A few collectors have sent expeditions there for artifacts, but none have been sent in many years. Perhaps it is time for a new one?"

They all understood the true meaning of her words. A female voice rang out this time, "Then make it so. We'll see to it you have the resources necessary."

The woman nodded and left the chamber.

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The same woman sat off to the side of Drache, "And what road might that be Drachiathoryx? Certainly not one that leads to culture," nodding toward the distant play in progress. The half-breed wouldn't recognize the Sky Talon, nor did she wear her rank in her fleshling form. "If you want a road more suited to your liking, however, I'm being tasked with finding an individual or two to go artifact collecting, for a patron of mine. He's mostly interested in the ruins of some city to the northwest, Vircastoria, and his horde is quite... well, bottomless might be the appropriate word."

She smiled now, flirtatiously, "So, interested? You can go yourself or find a companion if you'd like. Won't change how much my patron will pay you. I'll give you time to consider it. You can find me at the baths."

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Peridiath sat in her own private steam room at the very back of the massive baths. She was surrounded by many other men and women, all dragons, all in their fleshling forms, nude, enjoying the steam. She'd put out a few feelers, and was wondering who would bite. She hadn't told the candidates this, but it was first come, first serve. Stretches past and many of her companions were engaged in more carnal activities, but not her. She sat there, right in the center of it all, watching, waiting, plotting. The first person that arrived would be greeted by her seductive smile, "Well, I wasn't expecting you to come." Her body language relaxed, became more inviting, "But I'm glad you did, come, sit with me..."

She lightly patted the empty spot next to her, and when it was filled, her hands began feeling up the legs of the respondent. Her breath was hot and loud in their ear, "So, did you come for the job? Or for me?"

The tomb raider had lifted one of her bare talons to take the first step on her trek out of town. The decrepit dwarven cargo manifest she'd recovered had given her some leads that she was understandably hopeful about. Everyone knew that dwarves tended to secure their valuables against the ravages of time better than just about any other race. The crumbling manifest; the same one she had recovered the day she had broken Genrit from his frosty tomb. A meeting she remembered fondly, even if it hadn't exactly gone her way. She had still managed to bring home a good amount of gold, and with what was currently in the silk-lined leather purse on a belt at her hip she needed to acquire a few more supplies before her wings would carry her quickly from the colourful volcanic city.

But her plans were shredded instantly as claws through silk. A voice intruded on her thoughts and Drache's foot came back down as she turned to look at the speaker, her ear-frills fluffing out slightly with attention and her tail curling up behind her in the shape of a question mark. The woman was sitting on a bench carved directly into the naturally-faceted surface of the giant orange geode. One look and Drache decided that she had never seen the woman before. She looked human enough, but no strange human had ever known her full name before. But rather than rigid with startled suspicion, Drache was only interested, a hand finding her shapely hip.

The half-dragon smirked a little, her lip lifting barely enough to offer a white glint of teeth. "It almost sounds as though you're suggesting I'm uncultured," the red-scaled half-breed pointed out, the mockery of a pout lacing her tone. Her horned head tilted slightly, her pupils dilating and narrowing again as she looked the stranger up and down, deciding that she wasn't buxom but probably had a great ass under the tailored gown.

Suspicion reigned supreme and the cross-breed's tail gave an undulating swish as she picked her response carefully. "I'm flattered that you've such concern about my preferences. It's lucky that you caught me when you did or I'd be quite...unavailable." Drache's words were polite enough but she obviously recognized that luck had nothing to do with it. She wondered what kind of reputation she had that would have inspired this meeting. She wasn't the only half-breed in Pyresia by any means, but she was one of the oldest.

The woman was either a dragon or worked directly under one. As a half-breed it would take Drache more than one look at her to know for sure. The salacious grin earned a lifted eyebrow and Drache's nostrils flared with a whole new level of interest. But the un-named woman didn't give Drache much time to make a decision before turning away, leaving the half-dragon to gaze thoughtfully up at the distance-hazy balconies ringing the caldera above, wondering from which one eyes had been watching her.

--

It turned out that Drache's curiosity got the best of her. For better or worse, she was no longer the kind of half-dragon who shied away from her sense of adventure. She'd spent many years concealing her face and all it had lead to was heartbreak. The blonde woman's offer of employment, as well as the possible invitation for something else, was something the dragoness didn't want to pass up.

When she arrived at the baths she didn't need a tour, being more than familiar with the echoing steamy chambers with their convenient dark recesses and intricately decorated mozaics. She passed her laden backpack to one of the loinclothed attendants in the domed atrium that served as the entryway, and received a gemstone studded pendant on a stiff leather cord that she could trade back for her belongings later. She slipped it over her neck and it settled nicely in her ample cleavage, jiggling slightly as she unlaced her corset and shimmied slowly out of her custom-fitted pants. One of the attendants, a shaddy black minotaur she hadn't seen before, was eye-balling her with interest so she bent over and lifted her tail, waving it back and forth invitingly. His buddy punched him in the arm to snap him out of it and Drache chuckled as she handed her clothes over and headed for the labrynthine depths of the Baths.

The staff pointed the she-drake in the right direction, explaining that she had been expected, and Drache stepped through the door into a private room she'd never been in before. It looked much like all the others, but glancing around she spotted one or two humanoid faces she knew to be dragons in disguise. Her fiery amber eyes gleamed with lascivious delight and she slowed her pace to enjoy the show on her way to the side of the woman who had summoned her there. Drache's wings, held semi-furled and high up off her back, cut the steam into swirling ribbons as she passed. The heat was welcome and relaxing, an effect she had no doubt her acquaintance had chosen specifically to make her more malleable. Even her host was a tantalizing delight.

Turning, the half-dragon sat down next to the woman. Every motion involved the subtle shifting of wing and tail, but Drache managed it with a smooth sensual grace that made her seem less like a creature cobbled together out of two different races and more like a being who was someone to contend with. Reaching back, she spun her black hair up into a bun between her horns and then relaxed back against the steam-warmed stone.

"Weren't you?" she challenged casually. "It seems that whoever you're working for knew me well enough to know I'd come. Either I'm lucky to have found someone of like mind or your patron has gone through a lot of trouble to make me tractable." Her eyes roved hungrily over Peridiath. "I daresay it's working."

Like any fire-breather, Drache's skin was feverishly hot to the touch, her scales smooth and hard, though the skin as a whole was as pliable as skin should be. Not nearly as tough as a true dragon's armour plating, Drache's hide might possibly turn an arrow or reduce the depth of a knife, depending on the angle. And underneath the skin, athletic muscle, though relaxed now even as arousal smoldered in her belly. She lifted her legs almost obediently into the woman's touch, her thick talons flexing and shiny black from the water on the floor.

At Peridiath's question, Drache reached over and slowly wrapped her fingers around one of the scaleless wrists, pulled it across her front until the women were nearly face to face and Peridiath was part-ways across her lap. The clawed fingers of her other hand worke smoothly down the pale steam-slick skin to grab a palmful of her shapely rear, groping. Some of the others in the room glanced up disapprovingly but Drache ignored their eyes. Whether they were dragons or not, the half-breed was used to the dislike.

"I see no reason why I might not have both," the half-dragon replied in a low, provacative tone. "Perhaps I'm wrong in my assumption that your patron was being clever in dangling you in front of me. I'd like to think you're here to mix business with pleasure of your own accord." The strong grip on Peridiath's wrist lessened, but only so that Drache could try to use both hands to pull the woman up until she was straddling the half-dragon's lap. It was the only time a half-dragon might be physically intimidating to a true dragon. Not always this bold, the half-breed was watching carefully, wondering if the woman was only here to seal the deal or if her flirtatious invitation had been real. "Either way, if I'm going to take the bait I intend to enjoy it. Though, it seems unwise to venture forth without knowing who my ultimate employer is."

This last was said in a slightly musing tone as the half-dragon traced her smooth snout down the center of Peridiath's chest, nibbling gently at the soft flesh. Behind her, her wings flexed and her tail twitched like a cat. ""What name do you go by?" It was asked almost as an afterthought.

Peridiath smiled coyly at Drache's strong wording. Some dragons really were quite easy to do what she wanted. It was why she was one of the most influential members of the Winghost, and yet many chose to never share her name. Everyone owed her a favor in some fashion, well, everyone that liked things in the shadows. She loved the feel of the firebreather's skin beneath her touch, and was planning on getting her money's worth out of this lovely halfbreed. She let the halfling take charge, able to tell that's what she wanted. Another dragon might whip her for being so bold, but not Peri, she molded herself to other's desires. She let herself be pulled atop the red-skinned woman, lowering her hips, sitting on the woman's thighs, leaning forward.

Her eyes showed a bit of timidness, intimidation, though this was just an act, for Peri was well versed in the arts of seduction. No one could ever truly tell what she wanted, only what she let them see. Drache clearly wanted to be the seducer, so Peri let her. She'd be pleased either way. As Drache nibbled down her chest, Peri entangled one hand in her long black locks, pulling her a bit closer, trembling, as if she couldn't resist this woman's touch. When asked a question, she responded in a sultry whisper, hot in Drache's ear, "Peridiath." The words left her mouth with a soft sigh. She nibbled at the red woman's ear frills teasingly, before looking down at the woman, her eyes longing for her kiss. She seemed a bit nervous at first, before mustering the courage to bend down and press her lips firmly to the halfbreed's, her chest pressing closer.

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Peri was breathing heavy as she finally got up from where she was cuddled with Drache on the seats, her body sore and unbalanced. It had definitely been worth it, and she was so pleased that it was this halfbreed that came forward. She moved slowly over to an attendant, a young man, saying a few things to him. He returned with a pitcher of chilled wine and a satchel. She carried them both over, giving Drache a sated smile, sitting next to the resting woman.

"In here is just a few things per my patron's request. All finds, be it items, architecture, really anything of note, are to be recorded in the books herein. Nothing more. My patron wants the location of each find, along with a description of each item cataloged as well. If the ruins are occupied by anything natural living there, critters and the like, whatever, observe and record those as well. He would also like a travel log so your path may be taken by others should he wish for more, though if you succeed in this, you will be first choice. Payment will be in the form of a flat rate on return of the books, as well as additional payment for each artifact, whose value shall be determined by a third party at the time of receipt."

She set the bag gently on the ground, waving the attendant over, who brought two goblets. She poured the chilled wine therein, a very fine vintage, and offered one to Drache, before sipping at her own. When it was time for Drache to depart, Peri would stop her momentarily, standing to meet her, looking into her eyes, "Please stay safe... and find me once this business is done." With that, she pulled the woman into a very real, very passionate kiss, her body hungrily pressed against the halfbreed's. Once her lips were pulled away, there was a very momentary look of guilt covered by a sultry smiled, "Fly true Drachiathoryx."

Once Drache was departed, a pair left as well. Flying much higher and further back than Drache, but never losing sight of her. Their mission was to simply observe and report back upon her likely death or the very rare possibility of her return. Her journey to the northwest would be fairly uneventful until the first night she camped in proper Screamer territory. It was a moonless night, her slumber awoken by the sense that she wasn't alone in her campsite. Her campfire was still going strong, so clearly she hadn't been asleep too long, and she could sense it with her magic. However, she could feel another flame further off, two actually, hidden behind a rock of some sort. Clearly she wasn't alone, but those with the flames weren't in the immediate vicinity.

The half-dragoness laid out on the bench, draped languidly with her various limbs dangling lazily, like a leopard snoozing in a tree. Her tail curled and flopped back occasionally, and her hand traced abstract patterns over Peridiath's naked skin, and the slitted fire-amber eyes watched the flush of excitement slowly fade from the human flesh.

When Peri slid out from under her grasp, Drache rolled onto her belly and stretched sinuously, her wings fanning the steamy air before settling sloppily along her spine. The very longest wingbones crossed at the bottom. The half-breed yawned, knowing that the sweltering lull of the baths, as well as the delicious fog of sexual satisfaction, was clouding her judgement. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Peri speak to the attendant and raked the claws of one hand through the steam idly while she waited.

When Peri returned, Drache sat up to make room on the bench looking down at the other human. Her brow lifted at the odd request relayed to her through Peri. Record? Either this patron had a great deal of faith that Drache would make an accurate account of her mission, or was exceedingly unwilling to meet in person to hear a report himself. It seemed quite unusual, but then, what was ever usual in the life of a half-breed? At least if she found something she would rather keep for herself she could always elect to not record it.

"I'll do my best. I'm already in the habit of keeping a log of my travels, not that anyone will likely ever read it." She winked, her smile slightly rueful.

The hybrid cupped the goblet by the bulb, claws clicking against the glass as she sipped. Her hot breath steamed the curved side as the blood-red liquid swirled across her tongue. It was a fine vintage, and to her pleasure it was a dry wine rather than a sweet one, as she did not like sweetened foods.

By the time she had finished the glass, Drache had prepared mentally to emerge from the lazy mist of the baths and head out of the city, her original plans drastically changed now. Standing, she turned to bid a farewell to Peridath, only to find the woman hovering close already. Surprise flashed in Drache's eyes. "I should hope to find you to bring these tomes back since I have no other way to contact your mysterious patron..." she reasoned, as though deliberately ignoring the personal nature of the comment.

In spite of their activities today, it was only at Peri's apparent concern over her safety that Drache seemed uncomfortable. She was hesitant to return the fervor that Peri put into her embrace, but did finally curl one arm around her naked waist, a wing curling around to settle over that as well. She didn't miss the guilty look that flicked across Peri's face, but didn't bother trying to puzzle out what it meant.

"Thank you," the half-breed replied, both to Peri's farewell comment and for their lovely late-morning tryst. "I look forward to seeing you again, Peridiath." When she left, she didn't look back.

--

Drache didn't leave Pyresia immediately, rather after trading her token back in for her clothes and leaving the Baths, she walked and flew down the tiers of the city, making a few stops along the way. One was to a Cartographer so that she could purchase a map of the area where she was supposed to be going. With as many flying citizens as a city with Pyresia had, maps made there tended to be extraordinarily detailed, though the map-maker shrugged nervously when a disappointed Drache grumpily asked him why none of his wares went quite far enough north to show her the area she wanted.

The half-breed also took a look in the bag Peri had given her, inspecting it and the blank books, opening them and letting the fresh pages shuffle under her fingertips as she thoughtfully inhaled the scent. If keeping a record was part of the job, she wanted to be prepared. She picked up small leather case with different coloured ink in small vials inside, a new pen, and a lead pencil.

She had rations in her pack, but ate a quick meal of some grilled seafood fresh from the harbour before finally opening her wings and lifting off into the sky. She let the strong wind off the sea dictate her height, tacking back and forth in a similar zig-zagging pattern used by the ships down on the water. She was still in the lands depicted by her map when the sun began to set, and though she wasn't yet tired from the flight, having made judicious use of the winter airstreams and thermals to keep her migration easy, she wasn't exactly in a hurry.

The weather was good enough that Drache didn't even bother pitching her tent when she found a likely spot to camp. It would have been tricky to do anyways on the rocky lip of an escarpment. Before nightfall she admired the fossils of some sea creatures captured forever in the sedimentary rock and tried to imagine what this spot must have looked like eons ago when it was underwater. She hadn't the tools to prize any from the rock, nor the desire to carry such a heavy burden around, but she marked the spot on the map anyways. Most of her gear was still in her pack when she woke with start. She must have been more tired than she thought if she'd gone to sleep with the campfire still flickering. As someone who could see in the dark and light a fire with, literally, a breath, she usually didn't see much need to keep one going. As instructed, she had been logging her first day into both her own journal and the logbook she'd been given, and the pages of both fluttered gently, several pages having turned under the breath of the wind while she dozed.

Her tail gave a nervous twitch at the scale-prickling feeling that she wasn't alone. The brightness of her campfire felt like a beacon to anyone lurking near and she wanted it doused right away. Rolling off her blanket, she lifted her hand to grab a handful of dirt, but the motion alone snuffed the fire. It happened so quickly, the power to control her favoured element springing out of her fingertips to douse the flame. It was too bad she hadn't the time to enjoy that small triumph.

It was only when her own campfire was producing nothing but a rising pillar of smoke that she realized she could still sense fire nearby. How strange! Some other sense had awoken and she couldn't wait to explore it.

Her eyes acclimated to the dark quickly and the half-dragon kept low as she peered around, using her hands to search out her bedroll and her books so she could stuff them back into her pack. If nothing showed its face, she decided to go investigate the source of the fires nearby. She was too awake now to sleep anyways.

Drache could feel the two sources of fire moving closer and closer. She could sense that they were smaller, the size of a human's head or so, and not very hot either, maybe the same temperature as a normal campfire. Eventually she'd see light coming around the side of the escarpment, casting elongated shadows. This was followed by wisps of conversation, and loud laughter, male voices.

"Yeah mate, it had horns as long as my legs!"

"You're full of it Kraven, no one has ever seen one that big, let alone killed it. And you're trying to tell us that you killed one, and its body just... disappeared? This is the harpies story all over again."

A female voice piped in, "Ha, where he seduced a whole nest of them into an orgy? Kistrayia said he can't even ride her for two slips without bursting."

This led to loud laughter, as the trio came into view. One male human, one male drow, and a female alufiend, covered in red tattoos that appeared to be like vines, all but the drow carrying torches. Then the drow sniffed, his eyes snapping straight toward the doused campfire. "It seems someone else has taken residence in our camp,"

The woman then spoke louder, seemingly at whoever was in "their camp," "Don't worry, enough room for the four of us right? No trouble from us, just passing through. We've even brought food if you want to share." Her voice sounded genuine, caring even.

The woman then cast a fireball at the dead campfire bringing it back to life, "You don't mind right? This really is one of our favorite spots. The bones in the rock are a favorite of mine." The human set down deer next to the fire, whereas the drow just parked his ass on a rock. The human began cleaning the deer, all of them staying on one side of the camp, so as to not spook Drache.

The sensation of the approaching globes of fire was almost Drache's undoing. Fire was something all too familiar. She always had fire inside her and anytime her blood was up it felt like the flames corruscated along her veins, a white power deep in her very bones. But the way she was experiencing it now was new, and the dragoness was almost lost in the experience until she heard voices. She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes, but opened them just in time to notice the rising glow of approaching torches.

Drache almost laughed out loud! How could something so ordinary speak to her, unseen, across a distance? Vaguely she realized that the feeling was linked to the way she could change her breath weapon into Other Things, but didn't have the time to sort out just how the two were connected.

The sly dragoness ducked behind an outcrop, barely slinking her tail behind the stone as she watched and listened. Her ear-frills flared at the sides of her face and she even sniffed, an instinctive action even though her sense of smell wasn't anything special.

She found herself grinning at the stranger's conversation, deciding that if circumstances were right they might be the kind she could get along with. Anyone who joked about seducing harpies and orgies was alright by her! Her flame-coloured eyes darted between the three figures until she recognized the drow for what he was. This caused her to duck back further, knowing that in the darkness he would be able to spot the heat radiating off a half-Ixen with ridiculous ease.

"Hmmm," Drache pondered, her tail weaving back and forth silently as she decided what to do. Glancing up and behind her she could see that she could make a pretty clean getaway if she took to the sky. She could probably find another spot to camp. Then again, this spot was pretty nice and she was here first after all. There were three of them and one of her, not good odds, but she wasn't exactly defenseless. She had a mission to complete, but Peridiath (mmm...she could still taste her...) hadn't given her a deadline, so if she dawdled a bit, what would it matter?

It was the Alufiend's casual fireball that decided the matter for Drachiathoryx. Not one to be outdone, she waited a few minutes, waiting until the processing of the deer carcass was well under way, before she concentrated on the bright campfire.

It was more difficult than she thought, and the half-dragon realized that drawing on this reserve of power for a bit of fun might be dangerous if she kept it up for too long. But she was reckless and in good spirits. Her clawed fingertips gestured uselessly as she reached out with her mind, shaping the blaze, controling it. Fire was a playful thing and it flared up suddenly, white sparks popping out of the midst.

Drache didn't have a real plan for what she wanted the fire to do, but when it began to swirl around, a rotating pillar of near-white, she was just as pleased as if it was a complete surprise (because it kind of was). Taking advantage of the bright distraction, the red-scaled treasure-hunter crept from the dark corner where she was hiding, right towards the light, stopping a few feet from the fire on the other side from the three strangers.

Even if she hadn't cut the show short she felt like she wouldn't have been able to keep it up much longer anyways. She clearly needed more practice with that! With a concussive sort of pop, the fire shrank back down to normal, leaving a wide-winged, hand-on-hip, tail-undulating Drache grinning down at three strangers.

"Good evening. Tell me, which one of you is Kraven? I need to know whose sleeping bag to avoid tonight." Her tail swished. "By the way, I like my venison medium-rare." It was a tense moment for her, not knowing how these outsiders might react to her face (or her shenanigans), but she gave them a wink anyways.

The Alufiend's eyes widened in elated curiosity as the fire began acting on its own, while the drow stared silently in Drache's direction, giving no facial indication of his seeing her heat. The smell of the venison permeated everything, and the others hadn't seemed to notice the change in the fire. But she did. Her first thought was that a fire spirit had finally decided to present itself to her. She'd heard stories of such a thing happening, but none had done so. When it flared up suddenly, she clapped her hands gleefully, like a child might, laughing loudly. The drow was still as impassive as ever, while the human, Kraven, fell back on his ass in surprise.

"Dammit Laurel, I've asked you to not do that right by my face!"

The woman was clutching her sides in laughter now, "It's not me hun, I promise on your tiny cock! I think it's my fire spirit revealing itself!" Kraven groaned, he'd heard that so many times that it seemed as if it would never come true. The drow, though, heh'd quietly, knowingly. He nodded at the woman that had just revealed herself, and Laurel's eyes fell on her. For a moment, she was elated, "Ooh my fire spirit is so pretty!" She was bouncing on her rock seat, her tail waving excitedly.

"That's not a fire spirit. That's a she-drake, of sorts."

The woman's eyes were a bit disappointed, before quickly filling with a different sort of glee, "I've never met a dragon before! I thought that they all died off in the Death." She quickly bounced out of her seat, moving over quickly, eyes following every ample curve of Drache's body, moving in close, listening to the dragoness' words. Purring slightly as she was close now, "That would be the human, but feel free to join mine. I hope you bite... Sirik never does..." She walked around the dragoness, eyes drinking her up, then taking her by the hand, "Sit with me, I've not met another firespinner before either."

The conversation was pleasant as they waited on the food to cook, the woman showing much enthusiasm for pretty much anything that Drache talked about, making it evident that she was just that sort of upbeat person. Sirik didn't speak, while Kraven made fumbles with flirting. Eventually the conversation came around as to why they were here.

"Oh! We were hunting down a particularly nasty pack of Kelross. We're stopping here for the night, then meeting up with some friends of ours to the north. You're welcome to join us if you'd like, they'd love you. We're all mages, in tune with the spirits of the land. We spin fire, Sirik can make himself much stronger than possible, and Kraven can... well, we don't have a good name for it. He sort of stops other magic I guess. Look, I'll show you."

She summoned created a fireball, exuding the flames from her skin, before throwing it at the human. He stuck up a hand, and the fireball stopped before striking him, and it dropped into a powder that shimmered like the colors of the fire. "See? Neat huh?" She snuggled in closer to Drache, "It's an open offer too, I'd love for you to stick around a while, if you're not too busy." Her finger was moving up and down Drache's upper arm slowly, "I'd love to share our techniques. Our only other spiritspinner is water, and well, I don't like him much. So, will you join us? It will be fun, I promise."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun rose, and once everyone was up and about, the trio was ready to depart, with or without the dragoness. If she decided to join them, they'd take her to their camp, telling her all about their culture and tribe. They were Kvaren, a special tribe known as Crimson Vines. They were only made of mages, and were roaming their massive territory gathering other mages and trying to learn more of their powers. She was told their leader, a woman named Keelie wasn't there yet, but would be coming soon. It was a fun, jovial atmosphere, filled with much food, drink, and frivolities. Every member there seemed incredibly accepting of Drache, many enticed by her magic, others by her feminine wiles. There were a few sore notes, like slaves, nonmagical, from a place called Ebonfort. She would be told that the slaves had tried to kill them, and that was why they were prisoners. Then on the day of the 24th, Keelie arrived with several of her bodyguards, and a few others.

If Drache didn't join them, her journey would be fairly uneventful until she awoke the day of the 28th.

(To be continued in They Have Returned)

Ordinarily, Drache would have considered the lack of weapons drawn in response to her face among total strangers to be the highlight of the season, but it would actually turn out to be the start of several ten-days worth of glorious fun and adventure the likes of which she had rarely had before.

Grinning widely at Laurel's enthusiasm, the scaled woman nodded her horns in Sirik's direction, her eyes raking hotly down his athletic frame. Drache sort of had a thing for male drow and such was evident on her reptilian features, though it seemed he was going to refuse to notice.

"I'm a half-dragon, actually, not a True Dragon. Many of them did die off after the Death, but I come from a whole city of dragons south of here." Drache didn't move away when Laurel approached, she just fluttered her wings and swished her tail, loving the attention. When Laurel invited her to share her bed later she just gave the Alufiend a seductive look and licked her lips as she joined the pale-skinned woman by the fire, which glittered off her scales as though it were made of the rubies Pyresia was famous for.

There were lots of questions for her about how exactly a half-dragon was made, was born. Laurel was the most curious, but Kraven piped up now and then, and while Sirik never asked her directly, Drache's observant gaze didn't miss that he seemed more interested in certain answers to questions the others had asked. Laurel even wanted to touch her skin, her wings, her tail, though Drache insisted on returning the favour.

The half-dragon hesitated at the offer to join them, remembering the task that Peridiath had set for her. She wouldn't have thought much of discarding it and going where life lead, but she didn't want to miss out on the reward either. So when Laurel mentioned that they were heading north, the same direction she was heading, she grinned with the satisfaction of being able to kill two birds with one stone.

"I'm traveling north myself to a lost city. I collect treasure and artifacts from abandoned cities. It's quite fun and I meet so many interesting faces." She was looking at the three barbarians, but briefly remembered Genrit and wondered what the white dragon was up to now. "I'll join you for as long as I can. Meeting your people at this Gathering sounds exciting!"

She watched Kraven's display with a hiss of delight, the vertical pupils in her eyes narrowing to thin lines as the fireball burst, her genuine appreciation for his talent partly making up for poking fun at him earlier. "Very neat! There are a lot of magic users in Pyresia too but I have never seen anyone do that. I heard a rumour that they are going to build some kind of guild in Pyresia where different types of magic users can go to learn from each other but that's just hearsay."

Laurel edged closer and the half-dragon purred throatily at the fingers exploring the scaled skin of her arm. Drache's tail coiled around Laurel's leg and she leaned to the side, nibbling the tapering point of the Alufiend's ear, sliding her hand up the woman's back. "I'll think about it, but there's another offer I want to take you up on first..."

---

Jedayan 14th, 301DM

My flight to this 'Vircastoria' has been interrupted in only its second day. In the flatlands I was discovered by three members of a barbarian tribe called the 'Crimson Vines', composed exclusively of those who, like me, have had arcane talent awaken within them in the last year. To my infinite pleasure, they seem alltogether unphased by my heritage, even excited by my appearance, and I am eager to find out if this sentiment is shared among the rest of their clan at this Gathering in the north. I have also been informed by Laurel that my affinity for shaping and controlling the fire within is known as 'firespinning' among their folk. I am trying to recall if I have come across this phrase before but I will have to search my books more thoroughly when I return to Pyresia. For now I will join these 'Kvaren', for their welcome has been very warm indeed, and revisit my decision to accept the job to investigate this 'Vircastoria' when it's time for our paths to diverge.

-D

---

The next morning dawned cool but bright across the plains, and Drache chuckled mischievously as she untangled her tail from Laurel's. The Kvaren were elated to have her join them, and together they traveled the wilds of the Kerawac on foot, meandering generally northwards, frequently distracted by the chance to hunt or fool around. The dragoness found time every day to write in her personal journal, often sprawled out in front of the fire, her nib scratching the draconic letters across the page as she described her adventures and noted her thoughts to revisit later. During these times Laurel watched over her shoulder, commenting on the strangeness of the dragon lettering, and Drache taught her the draconic alphabet. In return, the three Kvaren began teaching Drache their own language, which was difficult on her reptilian tongue. She struggled with the hand-signs as well, but that was because she already had a rudimentary understanding of drow sign language since half of Pyresia was subterranean. She occasionally fumbled and mixed up her signs, causing Sirik to chortle in rare outbursts of hilarity.

And the fun only continued. Sirik pointed out that Drache was eating their food but hadn't shared any of her own. After that she hunted with them, using a combination of magic and melee to bring down the stalking creatures of the grasslands the likes of which Drache had never heard of. The only way Drache knew how to hunt was by using the tools she had been born with, and though the Kvaren thought it was hilarious when Drache rode by on the back of an injured Kelross she'd pounced, slashing at it with her claws, latched onto its spine with her teeth, she only regretted that so much blood had gotten on her clothes and stripped them off to go skinny dipping in a river. It was later that same night when she woke to find Sirik's eyes on her and coaxed him wordlessly into joining her away from the fire so that she could have him under the stars, silent and secretive as only drow could be.

--

Jedayan 23d, 301DM

The grassland is bigger than I ever imagined. When I get back to Pyrsia I am definitely having a word with the Cartoprapher on Jade Firth Avenue. I have used almost and entire blank map roll to record my journey for Peridiath and her patron and I anticipate needing even more than that by the time I reach the city. There have been several abandoned settlements here in the Kerawac Valley (as the Kvaren call it) but investigating them has turned up absolutely nothing of value, having likely been stripped long ago by these nomadic tribes. Nevertheless, I have marked them down in the logbook and included several rubbings of the markings at the sites, most of which I do not recognize.

In more exciting news, today I killed a small Kelross by myself using only my fire. It left me weary, but Kraven mentioned to me that my skill would be welcome in their tribe. It seemed an off-hand remark, but my time with the three Kvaren has been nothing less than exhilirating. I admire their spirit and their freedom. The more I learn about their language and their culture the more I could see myself giving up Pyresia's gem-encrusted brilliance for this life. If they were to ask me to join them I would be sorely tempted to accept. It occurs to me that I may be getting ahead of myself. I still need to meet this 'Warlord Keelie' who is apparently the leader of the Crimson Vines, and one of many such leaders who will be present at this Gathering tomorrow.

I anticipate that my next entry will be a long one.

-D

--

One of the main topics of conversation with Laurel and the others was magic. Drache wanted to know all about the different kinds they had come across, listening raptly to their vivid descriptions of different types of powers. It was difficult to not feel jealous at the things others could reportedly do, in spite of her own rapidly increasing skill. Many things she heard were identical to what she had seen among her fellow citizens of Pyresia, but some were completely different. She was especially curious about Laurel's mention of being presented a fire spirit and questioned the Alufiend about it. To Drache, fire was special and magical but ultimately non-sentient and more or less a tool for her to use. Imagining a sentience behind that fire that she might have to contend with was a completely new idea, and not one that she particularly liked. She also expressed her dissatisfaction with the fact that while she felt a strong urge to manipulate substances like steam or lava, these compounds seemed as resistant to her will as rock resisted water.

Skills
Observation: 7
Elementalism (Fire): 6
Socialization: 4
Flirting: 3
Seduction: 7
Sex: 12
Drinking: 1
Land Navigation: 1
Wilderness Survival: 1
Archaeology: 1
Cartography: 1
Stealth: 2
Tactics: 1
Writing: 5
Teaching: 1
Hunting: 1
Unarmed Combat: 1

Knowledge:
Location: Fossil Outcrop North of Pyresia
Contact: Laurel, Alufiend Firespinner
Contact: Sirik, Silent Drow
Contact: Kraven, Funny Human
Kvaren Tribe: The Crimson Vines
Firespinning: Fire Spirits might be real
Firespinning: Can't affect lava

Other
Map - Greater Pyresia Region
Satchel
Book, Blank x5