Once the pair were underway, Raffey let himself slip into conversation with the dragoness. He shrugged at her suggestion to flee, "Nah nee' tah ru'. Ah'm a traveluh, da win's ta' meh here. Ah dun haff chain on meh, ah'm alreadeh free. Migh' as well 'elp da Kuhvarrin, dey migh' 'elp meh one day." Raffey also felt eyes upon him, but his instincts told him it was just a wary animal. But he'd been wrong before.

When she asked on the ruins, "Oh, ya, 'e saidt dat dey are... uh... Ol' Veerk Cass Store Rear Yuh, ees weir' name, nah?" Eventually the pair would find a few loose carved stones making a raggedy path that curved through the trees. The stones were clearly created and not natural with their sharp corners and perfect surfaces. They eventually led to the stony remains of an out building of some sort. There were many collapsed stone walls and ceilings stretched for many spear throws. Drache could spend weeks here studying these ruins. In the center of them though, was a wide staircase that led deep into the earth, so deep that light, by fire and sun, couldn't see the bottom. There was an enticing vibe emanating from within, feeling like a glow, but without the light.

Raffey led the way, a torch in hand, revealing many glyphs and art work on the walls as they went deeper in the earth. There were many fey letters making unknown words littering the path. There were pictures of a glowing man with a string leading away from him, further and further into the temple. The man came through a circle, from what looked to be a dead world, to this one. There the man ruled in a city above, but the line that led from him disappeared below.

The line followed the stairs until they finally bottomed out. A sickening smell permeated the warm, moist air. A rotten smell. On the map appeared to be a crude map, and ahead of them appeared to be a four way intersection. According to the map, the central path followed the line, the left hand path led to an up stairs, and the right hand path led to another circle.

Raffey walked right past, not noticing it, holding his nose closed, his accent now accompanied with nasal speaking, "Dis smell ees like da sheet. So ba'."

Meanwhile, back in the tavern, Sammeh looked up and down 'Rahn', settling on her eyes. "Just make sure you stay here, not entering the citylands and if you get bored, I'm the third door on the left." The tone was flirtatious and playful, and she turned to leave. Walking down the way, she waited until Rahn turned around to continue to where she assumed was her own room, so she could get a look at that athletic bum she assumed her to have. But she saw something else, something lumpy in the back of Rahn's trousers. The woman was hiding something. Quick as a charging bull, rapier drawn. Justicars weren't known for their evidence, kill first, find the truth later. She slashed at Megumi, looking to slash down her back. One who was pure needn't hide anything.

Laurel grew bored, being the last one in the campsite. She sat petting a large round orb she'd found days earlier, wishing it would come back to life. But it needed to rest after its ordeal. She looked up as something very strange approached. It appeared to be a dog ontop of a very, very large beetle. She waved at it, "Hello stranger! Come, join me, you hungry?"

The aaenshi hopped down and came over, "Hello. I am Fleabit, this is Dibney. We thought we saw an old friend of ours in your group. Is a man named Raffey with you?" Laurel nodded, smiling, though a bit nervous now, and Dibney chortled loudly, happily, rushing over to Laurel and nudging her with her horn. Laurel laughed and pet the beetle, before there was some distant shouting. They looked past the tavern and saw what looked like a boulder was launched from a man sent skyward. Laurel watched its trajectory, amazed at the speed, and saw it was sent right for a flying figure. It struck it in the bottom of its chest and the critter began to fall.

As it got closer and closer, Laurel could see it was a dragon, emerald in color. It seemed to recover enough to pull into a wobbly glide before skidding to a crash near Laurel. It shook the ground and looked very injured as it came to a stop. Atop it was red haired and bearded dwarf man, who leapt off, maces in hand. "Venarfalax, you okay, mate?" The dwarf shouted, facing toward his attackers. The dragon managed to raise his head a bit, then lift himself up to his legs, spreading his wings. Several of the justicars were rushing toward them, with the very large man that shot the boulder walking slowly. He conjured another boulder and shot it toward them. Laurel, without thinking, got up and unleashed a massive column of fire that shot up and knocked the boulder off course.

She immediately began wishing Sirik and Kraven were here, Drache too. Really anyone she knew. But the die was cast, and she was in it for these strangers. Fireballs conjured in her hands, her black hair replaced by flames. Fleabit whistled and his wolf came bounding out, and he hopped on him, rushing toward the men, axes raised. Dibney stayed near Laurel, protectively. Soon there was the sound of metal on metal and screams of pain, Laurel hurling fire everywhere, as the camp fought for their lives.

"I can understand that," the dragonkin nodded her horns, "Never underestimate the power of being owed favours." She said it with a fervor that suggested it was a sort of some life philosophy of hers. She winked at Raffey and licked her lips a little bit, though for some reason she thought briefly of a big white dragon named Genrit. "I'm lucky I didn't end up in Kvaren chains too. It would have seriously cramped my style."

They walked along and Drache mostly stayed behind Raffey, though she tended to bound from one spot to another, crouching and skulking along, pausing to let Raffey catch up. It was how she traveled when she was alone, and she hadn't yet settled into a normal method of...simply walking along. In the rare times that she actually joined Raffey side-by-side, she let her tail slide flirtatiously up and down the outside of his leg.

"Old Vircastoria? Excellent," she hissed sybillantly. "That's what I was looking for when I stumbled across Laurel and the others and got a tiny bit side-tracked. I lost some time getting to these ruins but I suppose it was all for the best. Else I wouldn't have made so many new friends."

She winked salaciously at him, tucking her arm around his waist in a sort of one-armed hug before darting ahead and examining the stones. It was clear that it would take ages to explore everything, so the dragoness forced herself, somewhat grumpily to prioritize.

Keeping a single logbook tucked somewhat boob-smushingly down the front of her armoured vest, she pulled it out frequently to sketch some of the more significant symbols and markings on the wall, not recognizing most of them, much to her chagrin.

Looking down into the black pit, Drache instinctively lifting her wings from her back on the off chance she might suddenly be flung down into that abyss. For some reason she almost felt an urge to make the leap into the unknown, and though she didn't mention it to Raffey, she did scowl into the blackness and gave a suspicious snort and shake of her snout.

Every now and then, as they made their way down, Drache lifted her scaled hands and let them slide over the engravings on the walls, trying to puzzle out their mystery. The occasional sniff blew dust from the cracks, and every dozen steps or so she made a low gutteral chirp that seemed to convey thoughtfulness.

The half-Ixen spotted the rough map about the same time the warm, putrid stink hit her like a slap in the face. Backing up a few steps, her expression wrinkled as she clamped her nostrils shit, she let out an exclamation. "Oh...oh no. That is awful! Raffey, you've got to warn me before you let loose like that!"

She shook her head a couple of times, covering her snout with her clawed hands as if it could help. Chuckling only seemed to make it worse, but teasing Raffey made her feel better. "Woah...what did you eat?! Haha!"

"It does smell bad. What is it? Even a mountain of drake shit wouldn't stink this much. Maybe those fanatical Justicars dump all the dead bodies of the impure down here, hm?"

She was joking, and hoped she was wrong.

"Wait a minute Raffey," the hybrid beckoned, pausing in front of the map, her slit pupils narrowing as she looked it over. "I wonder...I think this circle is the pit we just came down," she reasoned, following the line with her fingertip, "and maybe this is another one. This path with the line seems to be like a main thoroughfaire of some kind. And this side chamber...fancy scouting it out before heading deeper in?"

Raffey chuckled at Drache's various jests. Such jokes easily traversed the language barrier. He was about to make a comment on Kavinog breath but stopped when she told him to wait. He looked back to her, admiring her curves outlined by the light from behind her. Listening to her as he enjoyed what he saw, he found he disagreed with her. He walked over, looking closer, head cocked to the side.

"Ah dun thin' so. Ah thin' we come dis way." He pointed at the hall following the line to the intersection, opposite where the line continued onto. "Ah thin' dah seercle he'e ees sometin' else. Ah thin' mahbee dees stahrs guh tah dah seety. Ees seem lahk eempotent place, nah?"

He wasn't sure what the line meant, but he figured perhaps it went somewhere very important to the culture. He thought it best to check the room with the circle, since it seemed to be the only dead end. "Le's guh he'e. We dun mees anythin' dees way."

With that, he turned off to the right, scouting down the corridor that they believed led to the circle. The corridor was long, had many carvings. Raffey went slow, watching the carvings on the walls. The smell grew stronger and stronger, the air warmer and more humid. One carving stuck out in particular. It showed a line of people walking toward a circle, then into the circle, then out of it again. The landscapes on either side of the circle were quite different.

Eventually a room far ahead came into view, giving off its own light, a dull blue glow. The stench was so bad, Raffey stopped, ripped some cloth from his shirt, spit on it, and plugged his nose. He offered Drache some of the same. Something was tickling the back of his neck, a warning of the sixth sense sort. He drew one of his javelins, easier to handle with a single hand, and continued toward the light. He didn't bother to walk with stealth, for the torch would give them away.

At the edge of the room, he could see what was clearly an ornate alter. It was obvious raiders had been her before, from the empty gem slots and the chisel marks all over it. In its prime it was probably worth more than any single person could earn in a life time. But that was far from the most eyecatching thing in the room. Off to the left, set in the wall, was what was emitting the light.

A giant circle was set in the wall, from floor to ceiling. It seemed like the mouth to a cave, but was off, unnatural. It was a portal, to somewhere else. The edges were frayed between this reality and the other. Through the portal, there were many dangling blue lights, that seemed to look like fungi of some sort. The torch did nothing to further illuminate the path through the portal.

Around the room were many stone benches carved high into the walls, like some sort of ancient arena, with this being the main attraction. There were other entrances to the room, only accessible from other areas, and the walls to the benches were quite high. Raffey looked at Drache for guidance, for his area of expertise was monsters, not portals. Raffey was too in awe and too on guard to notice that the first stones past the doorway were slightly raised. But he had yet to move.

With her hands tracing the raised edges of carvings along the walls, or sketching the unfamiliar designs down in one of her logbooks with details on where to find this place again, Drachiathoryx glanced out of the corner of her eye and noticed Raffey staring at her. Upon noting this, the red dragonkin paused and then gave a subtle shake of her hips and a wink. There was no protest when he joined her, though the half-dragon grumble a little at being disagreed with, continuing to stare up at the drawing with her horns cocked a little to the side. Her tongue gave a thoughtful flick out of her mouth.

"You see this much differently than I do. But fine, we'll have it your way." As she fell in step behind him, she muttered, "Don't get used to it."

If it was possible for a half fire dragon to cry, Drache's ember eyes would have been watering from the foulness of the fetid stink. But instead, she bore a foul grimace that twisted her face into something fierce. At any moment she expected to find a pile of rotting corpses or worse.

The tomb raider tried to keep track of the carvings on the walls, scribbling the most interesting ones, but found it difficult to concentrate. Yet when the came across the carving of the circle with different landscapes on either side, her ear-frills flattened worriedly. "That...looks like a portal." If the vague references to such things she had come across in her reading had taught her anything, it was that portals were Dangerous.

She couldn't wait to find out!

Drache's eyebrow lifted when Raffey started to tear at his shirt, and the dragoness stopped, watching eagerly, only to seem a little disappointed when all she got out of it was a scrap of cloth. She was capable of clamping her nostrils shut (though it meant tasting the stench instead), so she settled for draping the rag across her snout and sniffing the smell of Raffey.

The she-drake had a way of walking when suspicious of danger, the confident swagger becoming more of a slow prowl as her tail and wings lifted up instinctively in readiness. Together they peered into the room, and Drache gave a clack of her teeth.

"Someone's stolen all the shinies, I see." She wasn't so much angry at the theft as she was that she hadn't gotten there first! She started to move into the room, but the tiered benches gave her pause. Her tail gave a thoughtful twitch. "Only one way out, if you don't count that," she gestured to the portal, trying to fight the nearly overwhelming urge to step through it. It was almost like a sort of vertigo. The glowing doorway seemed to grow larger in her mind even though the distance to it seemed to grow. She shook her head to banish the weirdness.

"Don't look at me like that, I've never come across an intact portal before. Who knows what's on the other side! I'm surprised it's unguarded. And where the fuck is that stink coming from? Your natural musk only kept it at bay for so long, my dear."

She pulled the scrap of cloth away from her snout and scratched her claws uncertainly against the doorframe, inspecting it to see if it looked like it might be trapped. So many ruins were at least partly unstable, if not booby-trapped. It was a sure sign you were close to something good.

"Wait, Raffey. Don't move."

Eyeing the stones just inside the doorway, wishing angrily that she had a way of sensing if things were amiss, Drache held her hand out. "Let me borrow that stick. I need to poke something."

Raffey stared at her a bit incredulously. She sure talked a lot in what he was sure was somehow a dangerous situation. He kept getting that feeling of impending danger without actually seeing the threat. He agreed with her, why would a magical, well, anything magical, be unguarded. Surely it had been discovered in recent times. Unless whatever was on the other side was dangerous enough that it needed no guarding. He hadn't moved the instant she'd said not to, and readily handed over a javelin, watching what she intended to do with it.

He drew another javelin, peering over her, studying the room. He probably could scale the walls with a lot of effort, though Drache could obviously fly out. Looking back toward the portal, he studied the glowing, mushroom like objects. They seemed to be moving, ever so slightly. He saw them moving in unison, as if a wind were constantly blowing past them. Or that it was alive. He suddenly began to distrust this entire situation, and he adjust the grip on his javelin ever so slightly, further readying himself for what he felt was very immediate combat.

The hybrid continued to grumble and mutter under her breath, tail twitching back and forth as she tilted her head first one way and then the other. Her constant rumble of cursing switched to draconic at some point, and while it was a harsher language it seemed to suit her voice a bit better than Common.

Tilting her head first one way and then the other, Drache eventually began to prod the stones that were raised up, hoping that they were just loose. She was no expert on traps, as evidenced by a few scars on her body. Her approach was basically "spring it before it springs me" if she could find something.

Drache didn't have the same sense of impending doom that Raffey did, but she was watching him, firstly out of simple attraction but now more because he had turned out to be trustworthy and capable so far. "Your blood is up. What do you smell?" She wasn't asking literally. She followed his eyes to the portal and the floating orb shapes.

He watched her prod the stones, expecting something dangerous to spring out, his entire body coiled, ready to strike or evade. But as the stones jostled about, nothing happened. But the hairs on his neck were still ruffled. A Keremis always trusted their instincts, or they died in the desert. He'd heard her words, as his mind tried to figure out what exactly the problem was. In his native tongue, a deep, guttural language, smooth like silken sand, "Something very old..."

He didn't know how he knew, nor did he notice that he'd spoken a language she couldn't understand. The more he stared through the portal, the more the feeling of dread grew. It reminded him of something, he just couldn't put his finger on it. After Drache finished her investigation of the stones, unveiling nothing, he stepped cautiously onto them, lightly at first, slowly supporting his weight onto it. As nothing happened, he moved forward, taking another careful step. Stepping on the next stone, he immediately knew it was a mistake, as it sank ever so slightly.

His instincts screamed to rush forward, not back. He roughly grabbed Drache around the waist and dove forward, as a metallic shnng snapped through the air, a searing pain piercing through his calf. The pair collapsed in a heap, her atop him, their bodies close, as dust permeated in the air. He tried to move and found his leg pinned and in pain. He looked down and saw a thin metallic spear sticking out of the floor and up through the back of his calf. Further inspection showed so many of the spears, from every angle, filling the corridor, enough to slaughter dozens of people.

He was cursing under his breath in his native tongue, as he grabbed his javelin, wincing at each movement. He gripped it beneath the head, and used it to slice the flesh at the back of his calf, and slipped his leg free of the spear. It was bleeding profusely, and Raffey ripped his sleeve from his shirt and roughly wrapped it up, knowing it would stop soon, a feature of the Keremis. He looked over at Drache, seeing that she hadn't been skewered, asking between pained breaths, "Ah ya ohkay?"

He now knew they were trapped, or at least he was. She could fly out through one of the upper exits, but he doubted her wings were strong enough to carry him. He used a javelin to get himself to a standing position, gingerly limping on his injured leg, staring down through the portal. "Yah guh a'ead an' eescape. Ah be he'e wheen yah ge' ba'" He didn't believe those words, as his instincts hadn't been for the trap that got set off. There was something more, something that would be the death of him soon. But at least Drache could get out.

Aside from the infrequent soft grumbles, Drache and Raffey were both quiet as the crimson dragonkin tapped and poked the stones with the javelin, her claws pricking against the wooden length. Her ear-frill gave a flick at Raffey's voice speaking in his own language. She couldn't understand it of course, and glanced his way as she lifted up the javelin out of his way.

She never saw the trick step. Following silently behind the shorter not-human, it was only by sheer luck that she was close enough to be grabbed and hauled bodily down to the ground. Her wings unfurled automatically, flying up behind her like a pair of collapsed parasols as she went tumbling down with a hissing, spitting snarl and a final "Oof!"

Drache's breath was hot on Raffey's face, the hybrid stunned for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder as she pushed herself up. "Why the fu-....oh, xsio!" Upon noticing the lethal spears that had nearly impaled them both, Drache turned back to Raffey with a note of appreciation on her scaly visage. He'd saved her life. Huh. Luckily she wasn't one of those idiots who believed in life debts or any such nonsense. As she scrambled to her feet, twisting like a cat, Drache was amazed that she had gotten away unscathed, being closer to the spines than Raffey.

Or, nearly unscathed. There was a hole in her wing membranes; harmless, but annoying. Hearing Raffey's grunt she looked down. "That looks bad." Her face scrunched worriedly but she didn't try to help, knowing that when it came to healing things she was likely to just make things worse. The scent of blood filled her nostrils. "Can you walk?" At first it seemed a stupid thing to ask, but then, the bleeding was already slowing. Either Raffey or his people must have been made out of sterner stuff.

While the air was filled with the sound of tearing fabric and a man hastily bandaging his injured leg, Drache kept watch on the portal, but only after tearing her eyes away from the spear trap. She wondered what it would feel like to be the one person left alive after unwittingly slaughtering those behind you. And she wondered at the reason for the trap. Unless it was meant to stop something going the other way...

She shook her horns. Not knowing what was behind the portal made it hard to guess anything else about this place. "Yes. I'm fine, nothing serious." She waggled her wings as if to prove it and then stood awkwardly by as he helped himself up. "You know if you wanted me on top all you had to do was ask..."

The firebreather was unable to help the joke, but it sounded strained and she was still looking around, her attention snapping back as the monster-hunter told her to leave him behind. "Rhyvobit!" She snapped, the draconic word for bullshit, offended, looking him dead in the eyes. "I believe that about as much as you'd believe me if I said I was going for help."

She moved close, slipping her arm around Raffey's back so that he could lean on her, which would work well given that she was a bit taller. Her wing swept protectively around him too as she helped him away from the spines and towards the edge of the arena.

Megumi, or rather, 'Raahn' giggled and smiled flirtatiously back at Sammeh, "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind~" She replied, her voice smooth and seductive. She could feel a curious gaze on her back, most likely Sammeh checking her out. The half cat would usually feel quite flattered, or even turned on by such a gaze, but right now she felt nervous. She was hiding her tail behind her, in her pantleg.

She heard a hiss of steel and a foot step come from behind her. Shit! She turned around sharply, moving to the side slightly with her hands up in the air in a rather a frightened, the blade swinging in front of her viciously. "Woah! W-what are you doing?!" She cried in a fearful tone. She could have drawn her blade in response, but that would only aggravate the woman even more. It was best to stay oblivious until there were really no options left.

He leaned against the woman, not sure how they would be getting out of this. Perhaps there was a mechanism that would reset the trap. But that was beyond his specialty. He was best at hunting and killing beasts, not... Oh. He just realized it all. Or he thought he did. They weren't trapped per se. They weren't being hunted. This room was simply to have people be bait. To make something come out, from that portal. For the enjoyment of those that would sit above and watch. To enjoy the carnage.

But if they were bait for something... then that portal wasn't an open doorway. It was a cell door. To keep something in until people wanted it out. So the real question, was the key. What unlocked it? He decided to test this idea. He stopped down and picked up a chipped piece of stone and lobbed it at the portal. It bounced off, sending light ripples through the barrier. That confirmed it. So what was the trap for? To keep it from escaping? Surely something so dangerous could get up to the bleachers. So why have so many spears, all that would do is block the way and make a big, bloody mess.

Then it hit him. Blood. He looked over to where he'd been skewered and saw the puddle of blood had elongated on a nearly unseen slope, dripping into a tract. It slipped along toward the portal, the blood on a seemingly unstoppable mission. The blood came into contact with the portal, and the entire thing glowed deep red. It bulged and warped and expanded outward, passing through them harmlessly. It was now encompassing the entire arena. That was how the audience stayed safe. It wasn't a portal. It was a shield. A cage. And they were now trapped in it with something.

The smell inside the shield was sweet, so very different from the sick, rotten smell from outside. It was enticing, alluring, and instantly made Raffey not trust it. It was more bait. It seemed it was too late for Drache to leave. If they survived, he had a big 'I told you so' waiting for her. There was a heavy shuffling from down the corridor, and the glowing mushroom like things were wiggling now, almost in glee.

Eventually a massive creature appeared, squeezed into the corridor. It appeared to be a massive, dark colored ooze, and the name Coria forced itself into the pair's minds. All they could see was its massive, toothy maw. Then it blasted their minds, forcing Raffey to his knees under the power, "I've not had food in so long. It is such a shame you have seen me. Now you cannot be my little puppets like those fools above. And you, female, would be a most powerful puppet. I'd remove your... corruption, make you pure, and so much stronger. But you must be my food now."

It slumped closer like a slug, filling the entire tunnel as it did. It didn't need much effort, nothing physical or magical could pass through the magical barrier, it could walk them into its mouth. A slow, inevitable death. Raffey forced himself upright, trying to block out the sensory overload. Drache being a mage would find this task far easier. Raffey put his weight on his good leg, swung his javelin around into a thrust hold. At least he could go down fighting, even if it was futile.

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

Megumi's attempt to stave off the woman with her words and frightened expression failed to stop the blade. But the woman smirked at the last second, turned the blade just enough, so that the flat struck Megumi across the temple hard. The blow would send blinding white light through her vision, dropping her to the ground in a small pile. In the few moments of consciousness she had left, she saw more justicars coming from the door she was heading toward. The barman had led her to a trap. Then her consciousness faded.

When she awoke, she'd find herself chained by the wrists to a stone wall. The woman who'd struck her down was smirking in front of her, arms crossed. "Be happy I found you first, half-breed. If you'd gone into that room, you'd be dead. You're in the dungeons beneath New Vircastoria. I told them you were a simple thief. A human thief."

She moved close to Megumi, "Lucky for you, my employer believes it best to keep... impure races alive and useful." She held up the coin that Megumi had received from Jakobi, "And this confirms that you will be very useful indeed." She slipped the coin back into Megumi's coinpurse. She then cupped Megumi's face and pressed her lips firmly against the thief's. Megumi would feel the woman's tongue slip into her mouth, and leaving something thin and metallic behind, before breaking the kiss.

"When all seems lost, the coin will see you to freedom."

The woman left through the metallic barred door, locking it behind her, then heading to the left of the cell. Luckily for Megumi, the chains were loose enough that her hands could reach her mouth. The corridor was empty, just rows and rows of empty cells. At the end where the woman left, was a door, but it was locked shut by a heavy bar on the opposite side. The other end of the corridor had a perfectly smooth stone wall, with a single, circular defect in it.

Amber eyes flitted around the room, taking in the rows of benches above. She didn't like this place at all. It reminded her too much of the Meteorena in Pyresia. Part of the year, the meteor crater was used as a training ground for fighters, dragons or otherwise. But it was also used for entertainment as gladiators fought each other or other kinds of beasts for money. Or to earn money for their owners. None of this made sense to her. She could easily fly out.

Getting Raffey out would be tougher, though Drache knew her wings were just strong enough to carry a human. Or a keremis. Whatever.

Everything got quiet for a moment and the half-dragon turned back to her companion, "What is it?" Her snout panned slowly as she followed his gaze, watching the trickle of blood work its serpentine way towards the portal.

"Oh, fuck me sidewa--..."

Not knowing what to expect, as soon as the surface of the portal change hue, the dragoness cringed back. One of her wings even swept in front of her, instinctively protective as she squinted. The hellish dome passed through them and rose towards the ceiling, and Drache didn't even bother testing it to see if she could get through. Whatever this was, a mere archaeologist wasn't going to be able to stop it.

The sickly sweet smell washed over her nostrils, almost cloying in its strength as it banished the sour odour from before. They'd never even discovered what was causing it. It was almost fresh, reminding Drache of the rainforest after a rain. Or the inside of one of the gemstone-glass greenhouses. Someone had told her once that the plants purified the air inside.

She began cursing herself under her breath, admonishing her own lack of care and heedlessness. Her draconic words flowed quick and harsh before she turned to Raffey and said in Common. "Yeah, sure didn't want to miss this. I don't know if my magic is strong enough to break through."

Luckily, she didn't have to worry about it. The light in the room shifted as the weird blobby things on the ceiling started to move, and then IT appeared. "Oh. Well now. That is just fantastic."

A growl ripped from her throat as the nasty-looking creature arrived, and she could simply feel that whatever it was, it was infinitely worse than it looked, which was saying a lot. It's name burned across her brain and the dragoness clawed at her temples, a shrill scream hissing through her teeth as she tried to fight the loathsome presence. She wasn't even sure if she was breathing anymore and staggered back, leaning haphazardly against the stone wall over where Raffey had fallen to his knees.

The voice was huge. Far too big. It made Laurel's sweet voice seem like nothing more than a tiny ember in a volcano. It took time just for her to realize what it was saying, let alone retaliate.

The intent to eat them was clear. And not just eat, but devour them, soul and all. Drache was far from religious, but this more-than-just-death threat was panic-inducing on a level she'd never known before. A half-dragon generally had more to worry about in this life rather than the next one. The fact that the creature called her "corrupted" meant little. Just another insult hurled in her direction, nothing she hadn't been told before. Had she realized the full implication of what the monster was suggesting...well...it was well that she did not.

The fear curdled like something cold and foul in her belly. The creature's presence didn't improve, but after the first wave of horror she found it somewhat more bearable. Glancing down at Raffey, she watched him put his foot down and brace his javelin. It seemed almost laughably ineffectual.

The impulse to fly was almost overwhelming. Her wings were lifted high and she couldn't seem to shut them. But the last thing she wanted to do was die fluttering around like a moth trapped in a lantern that was slowly cooking it alive. If death was certain, she'd rather fly directly into the flame.

Briefly, her mind flitted down the list of things she had in her pack. She wasn't terribly organized, be she had a dragon's knack for knowing what was hers. And none of it would help.

Her clawed hand lifted to touch the bump in her pocket that was Cinder in his orb. "I wish you were awake, little one." She felt protective of it. Almost more angry that the little elemental could be in danger from Coria than herself. She supposed it was the most maternal feeling she'd ever had, or ever would have, since she'd never have children of her own.

Then her hand dropped to touch Raffey's shoulder before she started walking towards the monster. She'd faced a water serpent not that long ago and it had been one of the closest brushes with death in her life. And it hadn't prepared her at all for this. "Funny to hear promises of purity from something that looks like a turd cooking on hot lava. Hungry? Eat this."

She inhaled, possibly for the last time ever, and let the fire in her heart surge out in a ferocious roar. It was like holding a matchstick up against a charging tiger, but Drache didn't stop there. The swirling cone began to grow as she focused on it, trying to repeat what she had seen Cinder do in the dilapidated temple. It lengthened but grew narrower, finer, whiter, hotter. No longer a simple gout of smoke-belching orange, it was a fine line of white-hot that hurt her eyes. When her chest ran out of breath she kept the flame alive with her power, blasting it at the oozing thing. Heat. Glorious heat. It was inside her and all around, her scales corruscating with tiny flickers that seemed to erupt from between her scales and feed up into the magical ray. She kept it up as long as she could, pouring more and more into it. All her strength. What else could she do? Die?

Raffey barely heard Drache's taunt over the pain of being in this creature's presence, then was blinded when the dragoness unleashed her power. He'd seen fire jugglers, even a few creatures that made some fire of their own, but this was something magnificent. His arm shielded his eyes as he watched fire sear toward this Coria, this... god. The creature couldn't dodge, couldn't evade and the massive attack bore right through it. It let loose a pained scream, one that felt as if it would shatter his bones. Raffey had never felt so completely helpless and useless.

He knew now what he truly was.

He was weak.

And Drache was not. He watched her fire drill a hole right through the creature, straight down its open maw. He didn't know how big the creature was, but surely nothing could survive such an attack straight down its throat. If anything was truly pure, it was fire.

When the magic finally stopped, the hole through the creature was wide enough for a man to crawl through. Until it sealed right up. There was a deep laughing in their minds, "Yes, you would've made the most perfect of puppets, Drachiathoryx. A true... dragon."

Then it opened its maw, and a breath of toxic fog poured out toward them. It was the same color as this Coria and was coming their way. Raffey had no idea what it would do, but death seemed certain. He looked back at Drache, took her hand, "Ih wa' mah pleajurr meetin' ya Drrrrrrackuh." It was then that his eyes saw movement over her shoulder.

With a shout, Kraven, his body led by a barrier of his magic, burst through the crimson shield, his magic turning it into red powder. He rolled, tumbling forward, Sirik following behind gracefully. Kraven charged past the two, and immediately put up the barrier of his magic, to encompass the nearly the entire width of the corridor. The breath met the shield with a flash, and began turning into a deep purple and black powder. Because Kraven couldn't perfectly shape his magic, some of it flowed around the curved edges.

The shield he'd burst through completely dissipated. Kraven was grunting and straining and sweating under the strain of holding back the god's breath. He tried to take a step back, but stopped, knowing if he moved, his magic would fail and they'd all die. The breath was curving its way beneath the shield, and touched his boots. The leather disintegrated instantly, giving way to the skin beneath. Kraven looked back at Drache and Sirik, his face strained, with the realization of what he was doing. His lips mouthed a single word, but no voice came. "Go."

Sirik needed nothing more, "Goodbye brother." He flexed his magic into being, encasing his entire body in its mimicking glow. He scooped up Drache and Raffey both quite easily, gripping them tight to his ribs, so they couldn't flail out. Then he turned and ran. Raffey looked back, to see the breath eat through Kraven's feet, watching him stumble. His magic failed, the breath overtook him, and he saw his skin flake off, his blood dry, his muscles tear, and his bones turn to dust, before there was nothing left of the man that was Kraven. Body and soul were gone.

Sirik ignored everything, hopping easily up into the bleachers, before his magic gave out. He was still drained, sore from the fire temple. He deposited Drache and Raffey, looking back toward
the tunnel. The shield was gone, and the breath from the creature was pouring out into the arena. They had a little bit of time before they needed to move. Sirik was even quieter than his normal self, his eyes carrying the weight of their loss.

It seems her act wasn't enough to deter her assailant. Megumi fell to her knees before crumpling to the ground when the Justicar slammed the flat of her blade into the half cat's temple, since the blade was rather thin, the edge cut into the side of her head, but thankfully they were only superficial.

Her vision flashed white as she fell, she saw more justicars come from the door she was originally headed towards. The only thing that went through her mind was that she was about to die, and there was nothing she could do about it. They'd all find out that she was a half-breed and she'd be executed on the spot. That fucking barkeep.. would've been a thought that crossed her mind, if her mind hadn't faded into unconsciousness.

--

Megumi slowly opened her eyes, a headache pounding away at her skull. Her vision was met by a dark room, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light level. Dark, damp stone all around her. She tried to move, only to realize that her wrists were chained to the wall behind her. She pulled at it in futility, the chains clinking softly as she gave up.

Her gaze moved to the figure of a woman in front of her. Sammeh. That look on her captor's face, a face she knew all too well. It reminded her of the way people looked at her as a child in Azure Strand.

The woman was right, she should be glad that she's still alive, but for how long? Probably not very long. Her employer..? Her eyes narrowed at the woman as she was shown the coin that she received from Jakobi. There's wasn't much she could say, it didn't seem like the Justicar was lying at all, as far as her senses could tell. Megumi couldn't help but think that all of this was Jakobi's doing, the god damned asshole.

A kiss was the last thing that the half cat expected. The kiss had no passion, no emotion. She felt the woman slip something into her mouth when she used her tongue. It was thin and metallic.. And mostly uncomfortable. When Sammeh broke away from the kiss, Megumi almost immediately pulled the thin piece of metal out of her mouth. It tasted disgusting after all. Thankfully the chains were just loose enough for her to take it out of her mouth without straining herself too much.

Megumi's suspicious gaze never left the justicar until she had left. She observed the small metallic object that Sammeh had put in her mouth...It was a lockpick. She stared at the lock on her cell, but first thing's first, to get the chains off.

The white heat of the elemental fire was blinding, even to Drache. She felt the way it seemed to suck the moisture out of the air, turning her hair crisp and brittle. She poured everything she had into it, sure that at this point, with death oozing towards her and Raffey, that she had nothing to lose.

She was wrong.

"...what?" The fury of her magic fizzled out and her eyes widened with terror as the catastrophic damage was healed in the blink of an eye. "A true dragon...?"

The maw opened to exude the toxic miasma into the room and Drache stepped back, finding Raffey's fingers in her hand. She squeezed hard, the sensation of his scaleless skin keeping her grounded in reality. A gesture of shared doom. And then the implied offer came. A true dragon? What did it mean? Desperation made her guts sguirm. It had to be lying. It had to be some trick.

It was offering her the one thing she wanted most in the world.

Tilting her face down, she opened her mouth to say something to Raffey, perhaps her last words, and the barrier shattered. "Kraven?!" It couldn'd be. And then Sirik too? Hope flared bright and hot. The grip on Raffey's hand became a fierce tug as the half-dragon dragged him up to his feet, her eyes on Kraven and Sirik as she watched the human's shield go up and keep the foul fog at bay.

Drache hesitated, glancing from Kraven's straining back as he held the shield up against the full force of the God's breath to the awesome monstrosity. He'd never be able to hold out against it! Kraven glanced at Sirik next to her and she saw the resolute look on his face.

"No!"

Before she could do anything, however, Sirik's strong arm hooked around her waist and she could do little but cooperate with the drow as he rescued her and Raffey from the arena. Twisting back, clawing desperately at Sirik, she needed to see...

She would remember it for the rest of her life, however long that might be. Like the flay winds that supposedly swept lethal and unchecked through the desert, the half-dragon watched Kraven, a man she knew, crumble into nothingness, standing less than a single stride from where she had been moments before.

Something hot and vile twisted inside her. A hatred that was deeper than anything she'd ever felt before. Something that buried deep rather than blazing hot only to fizzle out shortly. And still...a dragon? Her?

"It's getting closer. We have to run." Her voice was harsh, dry. She tore her amber eyes from the monster and glanced at Sirik, seeing the devastation in his face. She knew that to the men her own face would look as it usually did, beastly and impassive. Good. No one needed to know what she was thinking.

Drache dragged her pack around to the front to settle over her belly and then beckoned to Raffey, her wings loosing from her back so that he could climb up piggy-back. "My magic is spent but I have strength enough to carry you. Please, I can't see another fr-... person die today." Her voice was an urgent hiss. And she hoped that the keremis would let her, if only in the interest of getting as far away from Coria as fast as they could.

Raffey wasn't sure how to handle this situation he found himself in, deposited upon the stone like the trash he felt he was. His life was now indebted to someone he could never pay back. It was the ultimate shame. He was too weak, worthless now. If he were back home, he'd be a perchik, a term that roughly translated to 'one that can only kill baby goats.'

Sirik seemed to have the strength to go on himself, and Raffey watched as the breath below filled the arena. He studied it carefully. It was clear that it was toxic to the touch, and yet he saw that it wasn't destroying the stone containing it. He felt a slight breeze coming through, probably equalizing the ruins now that the shield was gone. He saw the breath swirl in the breeze, noting that the breeze itself seemed unaffected.

His concentration was interrupted by Drache's offer. He knew that walking would be slow and arduous and lead to death for at least him. Raffey nodded, and climbed up on her back, his racing heart beating against her back. He wanted to apologize, but the words couldn't find their way out. As they were leaving, Drache received a voice in her mind, from the creature, "If you wish me to purify you, return to me and pledge your soul to me. You will be mine Drachiathoryx."

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

Up above, it was evident that a massive battle had taken place. There were many corpses, mostly justicar it seemed, a few kvaren from the scouting party. There were scorch marks and smoke abundant, unnaturally made boulders strewn about. Laurel was sitting tiredly atop Dibney, caressing her little sphere. Fleabit and his wolf were busy looting the corpses. Several other kvaren and newly freed slaves were wondering about, looting, helping the wounded, standing guard.

One of the more surprising centerpieces was the corpse of a large green dragon in the middle of the battle, its chest caved in from a massive stone. A dwarf man sat somberly next to its head, caressing it as only an old friend would.

Sirik lead the tired group out of the ruins, sealing the entrance with a large stone. His silence was much quieter than normal, and was quite unnerving. Once topside, Raffey let himself down, using his spear as a crutch, wincing in pain as he walked back toward their camp, saying nothing as he went his own way, unable to say anything to Sirik or Drache. Once the Keremis was gone, Sirik dropped to his knees, weeping loudly, pounding the ground with his fists. "Gods damn it Kraven! You selfish bastard!"

Raffey managed to get to the camp in one piece, eyes glowing wide as he saw his trusted companion Dibney. "Oi, Dibneh!" The Auric beetle chittered, and skittered toward him, Laurel holding on with her legs. The beetle nuzzled her face into Raffey's chest excitedly, and he rubbed her chitin, "Goo' gahl. Ah'm happeh tah see yah ta."

Laurel looked down at him, smiling, then her eyes grew worried when she realized he was alone. "Where's Drache? And did Sirik or Kraven find you? They went looking just before this battle broke out."

Raffey couldn't meet her eye, "Drrrrrackuh an' Seeereek ah fahne. Dey ah restin' ovah dat wah," as he pointed in the direction he came from. "And Kra... Kraven?" Her voice had broken, as she suspected the truth.

Raffey muttered, "Krahveen... save' us. Buh 'e di'n't make it."

Laurel sat there in total shock and silence, before the silent tears flowed. The normally animated and gregarious woman was speechless. Raffey offered up a hand, and she slid down, hugging against him and crying into his chest. He gently patted her back, unable to say more. All he knew was that this was likely the ending point for their group. He was free now, and now found himself wanting to go home. He figured, after hearing Drache earlier, that she was done for him. And he'd understand. He was to blame here.

The sands of the desert called to him. At least there, he knew the dangers.

The half-dragon's wings hugged awkwardly against either side of the wounded Keremis as Drache followed Sirik back to the surface, and the added weight slowed her normally nimble gait. But more than that, there was a weight on her mind that made it impossible to focus on anything other that Sirik's back as they hastened along. She winced hard at the voice, the sheer vile power behind it painful, and the promise it offered sliding through her insides like ice. Now and then she paused, the temptation nearly overwhelming.

A dragon. A dragon. A dragon.

What would life be like for her if she could cast off this weak, mis-shapen form and assumed something akin to what her father had been? She knew that Sgarsiathoryx had been phenominally large and mighty while he was alive, and it only stood to reason that his offspring should be similarly impressive. No longer would she be faced with all the hardships of being a monstrous freak in the eyes of...everyone.

It was only her memory of what Coria had done to Kraven, and the sensation of Raffey's heart pounding against his chest where he rested against her back, that she tore herself painfully and guiltily away. The scent of smoke and blood reached her nostrils and she emerged into the light, her tail swishing nervously, prepared for another fight. Luckily, it seemed that the skirmish was over, Coria's misled minions getting the worst of it.

"Tiichi apzen ihk sart totafitic," she muttered under her breath, which translated to "thank my luck for small favors."

When Raffey slid down to the ground, Drache kept a hand on him until he had himself balanced on a spear. Her ear-frills flexed as she tried to say something, but ultimately drooped and her eyes slid away so that she didn't have to watch him hobble off. If it hadn't been for her ineptitude, he wouldn't be injured at all, and it seemed unjust that she had come out relatively unscathed.

Upon looking away, she focused on the corpse of the dragon and her brows furrowed, her bare footsteps carrying her closer to the dwarf at the drake's head. She glanced at the lifeless wings to see if there was any laudii painted there, and wasn't sure she had ever met this dragon, though the dwarf looked like a Pyresian. "Who are you?"

There was so much loss. She glanced up at Sirik's outburst, watching her friend sob out his pain, and noticed Laurel folded in Raffey's arms, also crying. Her clawed hand curled into a fist, emotions boiling inside her. Kraven's death hurt. The pain of her friends hurt. But they didn't turn to her for comfort, and perhaps that was for the best. She didn't know how to cry.

Certain that her brief time among friends was at and end, that her welcome was worn out, Drachiathoryx decided that it was time to leave.

The rest of the Crimson Vines tribe arrived three days later. Much to the surprise of many in the scouting party, the justicars never attacked again. Perhaps their numbers were too greatly damaged, though Raffey suspected it had to do with Coria being freed. Keelie had already instructed her Swordmasters to begin organizing a siege of the city. She learned much from the scouting party, and once business was finished, she pulled Laurel into a motherly embrace, despite being the younger of the two.

“Oh my dearest firespinner, I’m so sorry for your loss. I know he was your oldest friend in the world. I will make this city and this supposed ‘god’ bleed dry. I can promise you this.”

She did nothing more than put a hand on Sirik’s stoic cheek, not bothering to speak to him, knowing it would be pointless. She honored her agreement, and all of her slaves were freed, and given the option of joining her tribe. Approaching Raffey and Drache’s tents, Raffey was seated silently around an unlit campfire. His leg had been bandaged up and treated but would slow him down for a long while. But he preferred it this way, he needed to feel this pain. He hoped to use it to make him stronger.

Keelie looked down at him, “You’re freed. You may join the tribe if you wish. But I strongly suggest you do not. Kraven had many close ties here, and I cannot, rather, will not, protect you from any who wish revenge upon you. He was not only incredibly strong and well loved, but he was one of the few in our tribe with a genuine good heart. Perhaps you should leave. Today.”

Looking over at Drache, “Much of the same could be said to you, but Laurel insisted that none of it is your fault. You will always be welcomed here, Drachiathoryx Firespinner. If you’d like, you could stay for when I finally slay this god.”

With that, she turned and left. The siege would begin in a few days time, after camp was built. Raffey had no intention of staying that long, and he decided that he’d leave at sunrise. Night was falling, and without so much as a word to anyone, he grabbed his belongings and prepared Dibney to leave. She then laid upon her side, a habit from when she was a wee beetle in his care, and he snuggled up next to her. She’d ensure that none attacked him while he slept.

But as the camp fell silent as all those drifted into slumber, Raffey found no respite. He just stared out, hating that he was always fleeing and running, and always alone.

--

The dragonkin did not sleep, preferring to remain alone in her tent. When the rest of the Crimson Vines arrived, she perceived that their eyes were full of suspicion and hatred, and she could not bring herself to impose on those she had once considered her friends.

She had known that her time with them was fleeting, and she berated herself for letting it get to her anyways.

Having no intention to stay for the battle Keelie was planning to launch against the corrupt monster, Drachiathoryx gave in to her fear and uncertainty and began to pack. By the light of a lantern lit by her own breath, she opened the journals given to her by Peridiath and uncorked her ink, putting the meandering journey and the events in the Vircastorian ruins into words. She wrote neatly, her language clinical, not wanting the dragon whose Visadon she had never seen to be able to read her heart in between the lines.

"Herein lies my accounting of the events of the arena-cavern within the ruins of what is now Old Vircastoria and the Foul Slug-God which calls itself Coria."

Her tail coiled and uncoiled beside her as she expounded on the details of the markings on the walls and how they had not been intuitive to her understanding. She described the trap in the passageway and the nature of the shield that had responded to the touch of blood. The ineffectiveness of her own magic she admitted without hesitation, but did not mention anything about the words said unto her by Coria. Nor did she name her friends or the Blood Vines tribe. This was a last-minute decision, for even though she never expected to see them again, neither did she trust that the information would be safe in Peridiath's hands. She finished off vaguely stating that those she had met in the Kerawac intended to fight this monster, but sadly admitted that she did not think they would win. However, her final note implied that she was likely to know if they won far sooner than others due to "an interesting connection to one who would be there." By which of course she meant Cinder, though the sprite had not yet awakened from his black orb.

And it was perhaps her own selfish desire to know that Laurel was alive that she did take the tiny elemental rather than surreptitiously slip it in the Alufiend's bedroll on her way out.

Once her academic recounting was finished and the travel log safely stowed, Drache turned to the map. It had become a kaleidoscope of different pieces of parchment attached together as the dragoness had wandered beyond the edge of what had been detailed. The various points mentioned in her logs were all accounted for, with others besides, scribbled in with symbols only she would recognize. By no means a cartographer, the added-on landscape was a bit rough, but serviceable. Rolling it carefully, it too went in her pack.

That was when she turned to the ornate journal and sighed heavily. Ink dripped onto the page, the dark blot spreading while she tried to find the words. And when they finally did come, they were much different from the objective observation that she would give to Peri.

"I leave for Pyresia tonight. Behind me lie the ruins of Old Vircastoria and within them, the monster Coria. To think that I felt a moment of pride for stumbling on those old passageways! That will teach me the folly of optimism. For you see, Kraven is dead, slain by Coria's desiccating breath in his attempt to rescue Raffey and I from a spell-shielded pit or else we suffer that fate in his stead. He was brave, living up not at all to his namesake, and a much truer friend than I can ever hope to be. Especially with Coria's words lurking in the back of my thoughts like the stink of carrion. It offered to purge me of my hybridness, to turn me into a full dragon so long as I respond to its Will. It occurs to me that I am weak for considering such a thing, and so I must flee. Perhaps distance will lessen the desire. I shall miss Laurel and Sirik, though I expect they will not miss me."

Beneath that, she began to draw. A vague boxy oval became a face, and the features grew and spread in scratchy lines of dark ink until Kraven's quirky grin looked up at her from the page. Her snout wrinkled in a sniff and her eyes burned, but still she could not cry. If asked, the dragonkin would assume that none of her kind could produce tears.

By the time she put down her pen, it was late into the night and few were stirring in the camp around her. She doused the lantern with a thought and swiftly broke down her tent to add it to the pack against the small of her back. Knowing she wouldn't make very good time in the dark, she planned to simply walk until daybreak and then open her wings.

Her talons were a quiet rustle across the dry grass as she prowled across the open ground.

--

Raffey had seen the light coming from Drache’s tent for a while now, wondering what the woman was up to. He really didn’t know a whole lot about her, but he was concerned for her. She was a bit the opposite of him to the Kvaren. She was an outsider that was loved and accepted, whereas he had merely been tolerated at best. And that was after being a slave.

He could barely make out her shapely silhouette through the thin animal skin tent. He saw her bending and rising, arms moving, and it seemed she was packing. Much like himself, it seemed as if she were planning on leaving quite soon. When he saw the light go out he wondered if she were going to sleep. But then he watched her tear down her tent. He was leaving by first sunlight, she was leaving by moonlight.

He whispered in his native tongue to Dibney, telling her to stay here for the time being, but that he wouldn’t be far. The Keremis rose, trying to be as silent as possible, which was difficult with his injured leg. Moving out into the grasses, he saw her begin to depart. He put himself on an intercept path, until he was close enough for her to hear, “Leavin’ wit’ou’ sayin’ goodbah, tah eenyone?” He then took a more terse stance, crossing his arms, favoring his good leg, “Where ya goin’, Drrrrrrrackuh?”

--
Not expecting to be challenged by a group that largely wanted her gone, or so she thought, the dragonkin dropped into a defensive posture not terribly different from that of a scream raptor, the end of her tail wiggling, her horned head weaving back and forth for a moment to make out Raffey's face in the darkness. She needn't have bothered, recognizing his appalling accent immediately.

Straightening, she adjusted the straps of her pack and make to step around him.

"I have to leave, Raffey. It's time I returned to Pyresia, the sooner the better." She sounded not only determined, but also desperate, not at all like her usual snarky but enthusiastic self.

His eyebrows furrowed, “‘lone? In da mi’’le of da nigh’? Ah taught dey were yah frien’s…” His face showed his genuine displeasure. He never really had friends since he left his desert home, but he knew if he did, he would at least say goodbye. Hell, he’d considered saying goodbye to her, and Sirik, if only in lieu of an apology that he figured neither wanted.

The dragonkin's reptilian eyes closed with a wince as though he had struck a nerve. "They are. Or, they were. I don't know. They hate me for Kraven's death, and I don't blame them." She glanced behind her, not at the camp but back in the direction of the ruins, not remembering, but as though something was actively drawing her there instead of the direction she was traveling. No, running.

He snorted derisively, through his large nose, nearly chuckling at what he felt was her absurdity. “Ah were dah one dat were slow. Ah go’ ‘ur’. Ah slow yah down. Dere dets, dey on meh. Nah on yah. Dey know dis. Is why Keelie tell meh tah go, bu’ nah yah.” He stepped in closer, not comforting or aggressive, just to seem more insistent on his point.

The half-dragon just shook her head, her gaze unfocused, as though his comment was something beside the point. When he stepped forward she turned to the side slightly, not backing down but not pursuaded either.

"It could have happened to anyone, Raffey. It should have happened to me. They don't trust me, and if they do, they shouldn't. Keelie was only willing to let me stay because of Laurel, but if I was any kind of friend to her I would leave."

There was a leathery shifting as her wings gave a shudder.

He stepped in closer, forcing her eyes to meet his own, “Ah mah nah know yah yeh, buh ah know dis. Ah trust yah Drrrrrrackuh. Nah cuss yah’re a frien’, cuss yah deed’n leave meh behin’. Cuss in dat momen’ of deat’, Ah saw yah Drrrrrackuh. An’ I know yah.”

The Keremis was putting a kind of pressure on Drache that she was not used to. Her vertical pupils darted towards his face, full of fear and...hope? In spite of herself, she was growing quite fond of this not-human, and her chest ached at the thought of leaving him behind after being told he trusted her. Perhaps that's exactly why she should do it. Her face twisted painfully in a quiet hiss. "I can't stay here! Even if they can trust me, even if you can, I don't trust myself after what happened back there. I can't stay."

Raffey reached out and touched her arm gently, “Drrrrackuh. Corya, hees meeneeons ahr nah ‘ere. Dey ees fahr awah, an’ dere ees an armeh between yah and dem.”

Her tail gave a twitch at the touch, but she didn't move away, but tilted her snout away. She liked it, but now wasn't the time to say so. Her hot frustration seemed to lose some of its fury for a moment. "You don't understand, Raffey. Coria promised me...things. Things I've always wanted…”

The shock on his face was obvious, his hand on her arm was a bit tighter, just a hint, “Eet lie. Yah saw dat ting. Eet know onleh powah and deestruction. It tell lies. Not’in’ mohr.” He found himself wondering why it promised her anything, and what it would be. And why he never received the same promise.

"I know," she hissed, squeezing her eyes tightly shut the way she had done when trying to sleep these last few nights. "I have told myself that a thousand times, Raffey. But...it's a GOD. It ignored my attack like it was nothing. What if...what if it could really do it? I can't stop thinking about it. I can't sleep. I know that Coria is back there, waiting for me. Just...what if...?"

“Wha’ eef ees meanin’less. Yah alive. Yah ‘ave frien’s. Even eef eet were a Go’, dah price eet give mus’ be ‘igh. Yah deed not’in’ wron’.” His other hand had come up to clasp at her other arm, as if he were holding her right in front of him. “Yah alive. Ees wha’ mattah mos’.”

The only effect Raffey's confidence in Drache had was to completely crumble her composure. Support from someone other than herself was not something she was used to. "I would have given every single one of you to that thing! I would have fed each of you, screaming, into that sickening glob if it hadn't been trying to kill me when it told me what it could offer me! I would have watched you all die and not even been sorry! I can't help it, and it terrifies me, Raffey! I have to get far away from here before the temptation overwhelms me!" Her hand had closed over his, squeezing hard. She made a sound like a sob, but her eyes were dry, a gulp of smoke issuing from her nostrils.

Raffey had no idea what could possibly be so valuable to anyone to have killed the people that were friends. But he chose not to press. Privacy was always valuable. He squeezed her hand in return, before letting go of her completely, as if he were shrugging her off. He turned to look away from her, to the southeast. “Go den.” His voice was cold, distant.

But out of sight of her now, he broke into a wide grin, “Buh ah’m comin’ wit’ yah.” After all, Pyresia was on the way home to the deserts. And she said she wanted to see his sands. This seemed as good a time as any.

Him letting go of her seemed as much a goodbye as anything, and Drache took a step, ready to begin the long trek back to the Ash Peak and the jungle city. "It will be easier this way…what?" She turned back, her scaled face incredulous. "Don't be ridiculous." A half dozen reasons why they shouldn't go together flitted through her mind, but the half-dragon clamped her jaws shut before uttering any of them, realizing that in truth, she wanted him to join her. "Why?"

A smug grin on his face as he looked over his shoulder at her, “Cuss yah promeesed tah show meh Peereesia. An’ ees on mah way ‘ome. Ees jus’ smar’ tah nah travel alone.” And with that, it was decided in the man’s mind. He brought his fingers to his mouth, shoved two from each hand in and whistled shrilly. Dibney was quick to scurry over to him, and Raffey gestured to the saddle, “Aftah yah, Drrrrrackuh.”

The half-dragon had seen the beetle of course, but had yet to be introduced. Beyond that, she had never actually ridden any kind of saddle beast. Somehow a massive insect trundling over to her didn't spark the same uncertainty as it might have before the water elementals. Before Coria.

"It occurs to me that I should mention I'm not a very good rider. But depending on your definition, that could be a lie." Drache glanced at Raffey with a ghost of her usual grin and reached out to pat Dibney on her hard shell.

"Alright, miss. Don't make this hard for me. I'm not having a very good day."

With a hop and a flap of her wings, Drache jumped, trying to avoid using her claws or talons against Dibney's hard carapace. She moved to the back of the saddle. It would have been nice to be in front, but she knew her wings would only be in Raffey's way.

"I'm glad you're coming with me," she admitted before she became too stubborn or self-conscious to do so.

Raffey pulled himself up, smiling, not bothering to say anything more. With a simple, “Hyah,” Dibney started forward, the moon and the Kvaren and Coria, at their backs.

Skills
Observation: 9
Flirting: 3
Drinking: 1
Negotiation: 1
Riding (Auric Beetle): 4
Socialization: 6
Hunting: 3
Tactics: 2
Weapon (Shortspear): 5
Bodybuilding: 2
Acrobatics: 2
Endurance: 3
Riding (Horse): 1
Intelligence: 1
Archaeology: 1
Negotiation: 1
Wilderness Survival: 2
Stealth: 2
Leadership: 1
Medicine: 1
Investigation: 1
Subterfuge: 1

Knowledge:
Date: Liera the Squire
Contact: Megumi, the Cute Half-Cat
Riding Command (Auric): Het - Stop
Riding Command (Auric): Ho - Maintain Speed
Riding Command (Auric): Highest Pitched Whistle - Abandon Me
Blood Vines: Can Store Themselves Inside Creatures
Blood Vines: Razor Sharp Leaves and Thorns
Blood Vines: Carnivorous
Redheaded Kvaren Warlord: Magic with Blood Vines
Location: Lovely Lily Tavern, New Vircastoria
New Vircastoria: No Impure Breeds Allowed
Location: Old Vircastoria Ruins, Home to Coria
Coria: Unknown Mushrooms Move in Sync
Coria: A Massive Ooze
Coria: Puppetmaster
Coria: Can Mind Speak
Drache: A Fire Elementalist
Drache: A Fine Partner to Die With
Kraven's Magic Could Temporarily Stop Coria's Breath
Coria: Can Regenerate
Coria: Can Be Damaged by Fire
Coria's Breath: Doesn't Damage Stone
Coria's Breath: Affected by Wind
Threat: Will Be Killed if Staying Among the Crimson Vines
Riding Command (Auric): Hyah - Go
Other
Various scars from Blood Vines Thorns and Leaves
Calf Stab, with Slice - Treated by Kvaren, will heal on own fully by the end of Saffra 301.
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Skills
Observation: 8
Writing: 5
Socialization: 8
Disguise: 1
Drawing: 5
Fire Elementalism: 4
Stealth: 2
Flirting: 1
Comedy: 2
Archaeology: 4
Leadership: 2
Stealth: 1
Trapping: 2
Intimidation: 1
Bodybuilding: 2
Subterfuge: 2
Cartography: 1

Kvaren Language: 2

Knowledge:
Contact: Warlord Keelie, Blood Vines' Mistress
Location: Lovely Lily Tavern, New Vircastoria
Crimson Vines Tribe: Consists Mostly of Mages
New Vircastoria: No Impure Breeds Allowed
Location: Old Vircastoria Ruins, Home to Coria
Keremis: Can Somehow Stop Bloodflow
Coria: A Massive Ooze
Coria: Puppetmaster
Coria: Can Mind Speak
Coria: Can 'Purify' Me
Coria: Can Regenerate
Coria: Can Be Damaged by Fire
Kraven's Magic Could Temporarily Stop Coria's Breath
Haunting Memory: Kraven's Death by Coria
Promise from Coria: Will Purify if Soul is Pledged
Promise from Keelie: Always Welcome in the Crimson Vines
Other
Wing Membrane Scar
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Skills
Seduction: 1
Poison: 1
Larceny: 1
Acting: 1
Stealth: 1
Observation: 6
Weapon (Dagger): 4
Socialization: 3
Riding (Auric Beetle): 1
Acrobatics: 3
Leadership: 1
Tactics: 1
Disguise: 1
Intimidation: 1
Subterfuge: 6
Intelligence: 2
Flirting: 1
Endurance: 1

Knowledge:
Contact: Raffey, the Foreign Hunter
Life Debt: Raffey
Blood Vines: Can Store Themselves Inside Creatures
Blood Vines: Razor Sharp Leaves and Thorns
Blood Vines: Carnivorous
Contact: Fleabit, the Smelly Aaenshi
Location: Lovely Lily Tavern, New Vircastoria
New Vircastoria: No Impure Breeds Allowed
Justicars Worship Coria
Contact: Larry, Bartender at Lovely Lily Tavern
Contact: Sammeh, Justicar
Sammeh: Not Your Typical Justicar
Sammeh: Somehow Knows Jakobi's Organization
Suspicion: Jakobi Behind the New Vircastoria Expedition
Other
Small Scar Across Temple
Tiny Lockpick
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Halbera

If you return to Ebonfort, ask a GM to review your posts in this rp.

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Raffey and Drache's exposure to the ambient and overwhelming magic of the god Coria awakened their magical defenses. As such, the next time they attempt to use any of their senses to discern something magical, or difficult to see, they will acquire the magic known as Aurism.

Drache and Raffey both will find a deep purple powder littering the bottoms of her bags and his boots. This is the powder from Kraven's alchemical defense against Coria's breath. If they bring this to an alchemist, they can learn more about it.

Megumi's story will be continuing in another RP momentarily.