[IC] A dragon's breath means death (Fetzen & Valchyrie)

[Valchyrie]

Fetzen Opening Post:

The weather was dreary as if the location had been some remote island in the middle of a harsh ocean. The sky's floodgates were wide open, unleashing huge amounts of vater in volleys set a few minutes to several hours apart from each other. Were things weeping due to the many victims a dragon's arrival could possibly claim ? Or had the gods in some strange act of compassion decided to preemptively drench the world in water to make it harder for the creature to set things on fire ? Whatever it was -- at least temperatures were above freezing. While it was cold noone had to be afraid of slipping on ice, even though it would have made the ground rock solid again.

A large horse with a dark fur pattern was struggling to pull a medium-sized cart along the worn road. Despite the slow speed its wheels were digging deeply enough into the mud to throw up chunks of it behind them, littering the rear end of the supplies loaded on it in the progress. Luckily Vyzel and his carriage driver, Gharak, had been thorough in their preparations: Everything was tightly packed in wooden crates and wool or leather in order to optimize both usage of space and protection. From top to bottom the stack of crates had been arranged in such a way that they'd not have to jump from an upper level to a lower level in order to retrieve a certain thing. The plan was to unpack crates as they became the top of the remaining stack in order to have a constant stream of those supplies whose demand could be planned ahead. Two more horses were accompanying them, none of them saddled but both seemed to be more suited for riding.

If these were reserved for Vyzel then it would be clear why there were two of them: The man who had been promoted to the rank of slayer dwarfed his companion by about two feet -- and Gharak couldn't really be called small given that he stood at about six feet himself. Vyzel wasn't a beanstalk either - a look at his relatively massive thighs and upper body could tell that he had some experience with a strict training regime. However he didn't look anywhere near being a brute: His halfway dark beard put up a contrast to his rather pale complexion which ran along his jawline in a neatly pruned manner. What little hair was sticking out beneath his hoodie appeared to be properly organized and cut short. His clothing ? Definitely of high quality. The leather did its job repelling the ubiquitous moisture and there was a layer of soft cloth below it to keep him warm. If one looked closer and was even more attentive one could also see that there was nothing loaded onto the cart that looked like any kind of huge weapon which would probably suit such a person. In fact there didn't seem to be any weapon present at all. Of course this wasn't true, but some things Vyzel usually relied upon were delicate and he certainly lacked interest in them being exposed to everyone's eyesight.

The carriage came to a halt in front of a not-so-well looking tavern. Vyzel craned his neck to get a brief look at its roof, trying to boost his confidence in there being no annoying leaks or even hidden instabilities. Not that he would have had much success with that attempt. His heavy traveling boots left almost Norn-like imprints behind and once more in his life a doorframe proved to be too small to pass through comfortably. Gharak remained outside and maneuvered the vehicle to a more appropriate location. His job was to stay with it and make sure that noone would put his hands on the cargo.

The Warped Nail had as much patina on the inside as it had on the outside. While all the wooden surfaces told that its owners did put effort in cleaning them the furniture itself was just plain old. Vyzel picked a table in one of the corners where no other guests were nearby. He didn't like the prospect of anyone being able to eavesdrop, yet the precariously groaning noise of his stool did gather quite some attention as the more than heavy man sat down.

[Valchyrie]

Another dragon had been said to have been spotted. It was like this world just wanted to be in chaos constantly. There had been countless of wars between the different races until the first dragon had arrived. It had taken a lot of lives and a lot of constant fighting and planning to take down the dragon, only to know another one had risen again. It had just kept going on like that for ages, and now there supposedly was a new one. If one thought their life was boring, they would only have to join one of the orders to make their life exciting and dangerous. Though of course, many people preferred the more casual life, instead of fighting dragons and undead creatures and what else they could come up against as a soldier for the world. But to Eliza, these things didn’t matter. She had travelled from the continent of Tyria, where her home as a Sylvari was. She came from the Grove, which was the main home to the Sylvari. All of them were born with a dream, a dream that showed them what they should do in life. It could be to take down a dragon, help find information on something, become a famous scholar or something else. But Eliza La Chev had been born with nothing. Some said she was a fraud, a fake sylvari, though no one had been able to explain just how that would work. The Mother of the pale tree knew Eliza from the day she was born and that was proof that Eliza was a true sylvari. However, even the Mother had been unable to explain why Eliza had been born without a dream.

Whatever the case was, Eliza had become a very well respected necromancer, rather feared in some corners of the world as well and she was highly intelligent. She had joined the Durmand Priory order, though she hadn’t come to them, they came to her to ask if she would join them. At the time, she didn’t feel like she belonged anywhere in the world specifically, her skills as a necromancer had served different nations well throughout her long life, but without a dream, she had no goal to keep her focused on. When the Durmand Priory then offered her a position with them, she saw no reason to say no. Since then, life had been very interesting for the most part. However, she wasn’t sure if she would call a new dragon interesting, it was dangerous as hell, but it was her job, with the rest of the Durmand Priory members, to investigate into the rumors of the dragon and see what could be done about it. There was one catch though, the dragon was not in Tyria, it was in the continent of Muria, which had so far avoided the attention of dragons. It was a continent that Eliza had never visited before and now had to live in for a long time, possibly for many years, depending on the ruler of this continent and how willing people would be to cooperate. One thing she knew though, was that she was supposed to meet up with another man at a tavern called The Warped Nail. She didn’t know if this continent was used to seeing Sylvari, maybe they had completely different races here, but she didn’t want to hide herself. Besides, on an evening where it was raining as much as it was this night, she felt at home.

She wore a staff on her back, which seemed to be made out of very fine wood, with what seemed like a demon with two big wings, made out of bone at the top of it. Along the shaft, there were green lines, that looked like it could be vines, though it could just be decorative markings as well, it was difficult to tell. It was a very fine staff though, high quality and it looked very expensive if you had to buy it. She wore nothing besides a kind of leaf top, that was connected with a leaf skirt that went down to her knees. It was in beautiful colors. Sylvari was made of the nature, which meant she didn’t have normal skin, though it looked like skin at some parts of her body, other parts looked like it could be part of a tree. She was an attractive woman though.

She arrived at The Warped Nail with the rain dripping down from her whole body. She had walked all the way here after she had arrived with the ship to Muria. It had taken a while, but she had found it without too much difficulty. She looked up at the Tavern sign to make sure it was the right place, and it seemed to be. She could hear horses being taken care of around the side and the back of the Tavern, though she had no interest in going to check them out. She had a description of the man she was going to meet and there was no reason to delay their meeting any longer. She went into the Tavern and for a moment, people turned to look at her. At least that answered her question that Sylvari wasn’t a common sight here, could be that she was a woman though, but she felt it was more the Sylvari situation. Then people turned around again and started buzzing with conversation once more. She looked around the room herself and found the man that she was going to meet. Despite trying to lay low, choosing a table that was deserted all around it, kind of made you stand out, but she supposed it didn’t matter here.

She walked over to the table and looked at him. She was still dripping wet and it was running down her skin and into her nature outfit. She sat down without the chair making a sound and crossed her legs. She took off her staff and placed it next to her, against the window that accompanied their table. Then she opened her mouth and a breath that was unnaturally cold came out of her. It felt like the breath that came from the undead creatures, which could freeze anything that they came close to, but she didn’t kill, she spoke. “I’m Eliza La Chev, from the Durmand Priory on the continent of Tyria. I believe you are the man that I am looking for.” She didn’t speak loudly, there was no reason to make everyone eavesdrop on what would probably become a tense conversation, but she had to make sure this was the man she was looking for.

[Fetzen]

Vyzel had had his time to inspect The Warped Nail. That included counting the leaks in the ceiling which were betraying themselves by letting water go through in large driplets here and there. The discolored wooden floor told a story about the longevity of the situation, but nontheless the slayer found himself hungry and thirsty enough to dare and try out what the tavern had to offer. After all the good thing about a warm meal was that warmth had no real quality. It either was there or it was not there.

It happened so that an impressively large plate was standing by for the man to pick the next spoon full of soup out of it. It was accompanied by a mug of beer, but Vyzel could already tell that it was a rather weak beverage of which he'd need a very large lot to impair his capability of concentrating. He had no intentions to try it out though, the situation at hand was much too grave for this. While he was sitting here and waiting, that dragon -- if it really existed -- could already be busy making the task of finding and killing him a lot more difficult than he imagined it already to be. He was suffering from a complete lack of experience with regard to this business and that made him even more tensed up because... What amount of knowledge would his future partner bring with her ? Would she know so much more about dragons that he'd completely embarrass himself even before they got underway ? Vyzel knew that she was a Sylvari -- one of the people who had the privilege of starting into their lives with a given purpose even if it was only some kind of dream. Yet the slayer caught his drifting thoughts in time for not delving too deeply into the subject and slipping away from here and now.

The door was opened, someone was coming in. Vyzel had never had a chance to see Eliza La Chev beforehand, but several aspects about her told him immediately that she had to be it: She was a Sylvari. Her equipment appeared to be of extraordinary quality (though... what did he know about necromancy ?) and she appeared to know whom she was looking for herself since she didn't hesitate much to find her way into his rather lonely corner. She sat down so silently that Vyzel had to smile. His chair continued to protest against a load way beyond its original design limits with every move he made and so did now as he was offering her his open hand.

"Welcome to Muria. I'm Vyzel, Order of Whispers." As if to underline the name of his employer, Vyzel spoke out things very lowly. What they were about to discuss was of no concern to anyone else around here. So he leaned forwards and let the table support his massive elbows while looking at his soup. It wasn't disinterest. It was a facade meant to distract the other he hoped she'd immediately recognize as such. However... it did also move himself a bit out of the way of her cold breath. It was spooky for him despite the fact that he'd been given an advance warning about her being a necromancer. Sitting right next to one, especially such a powerful one, was a story of its own. "I've got enough supplies with me that it should suffice for both of us, just in case your journey was too long to bring many things along from your own homeland. Also there's a spare horse you can use if you want. So... where do we start ?" It was a question deliberately kept vague. He wouldn't admit it, but perhaps Eliza would reveal how much she knew about dragons by herself this way.

[Valchyrie]

Eliza studied Vyzel for a moment. He was bigger in every aspect compared to her, but then again, Sylvaris weren’t known for being bulky or muscular creatures. They could still pack a punch and be just as strong as a Charr, but their bodies almost never looked like it. She shook his hand gently, but firmly and gave him a small nod. “Glad to be on Muria. A first for me, but I have already seen a lot of the continent on my way here.” She said softly. A tavern maid came over to her, as the good maid she was she had spotted a new customer and asked if Eliza would like anything. Eliza looked at her and just ordered a bowl of onion and tomato soup. The maid nodded and went away again, leaving the two of them alone to continue whatever conversation they had going, though the maid was intrigued to have a Sylvari in the tavern. Eliza then continued with their conversation “Supplies won’t be a problem; I can make a meal out of mother earth. Travelling…” she considered this for a moment, she had her own way of travelling, but she supposed that it was best to keep it to the normal ways of travelling, and not scare the shit out of people here on Muria. “…would be nice with a horse, so the offer is appreciated.” His last question though, was a bit strange. He came from the Order of Whispers and yet he came so unprepared, unless it was a way to make her give him information, in which case he had just failed at luring it out of Eliza.

Nevertheless, Eliza had been planning to talk strategy with the man anyway, so it didn’t really matter that much. “I assume you have heard the rumors at least and that we might not return from this journey, should the rumors be true. I’ll spare you the details for now, but from the information I’ve gathered on my way here, it seems we need to go into the swamps of Muria first, as that was where this creature was first seen.” The maid came over with a bowl of soup and put it down in front of Eliza. She smiled a little at Eliza before she went away again. Eliza then continued “The strange thing is, that a creature of that size would normally not be able to be in a swamp, there’s too many tight spaces for it to roam around as it pleases, but the rumors started there, so that’s where we are going. You’re going to lead the way for the time being, as you know this continent better than I do.” She took a spoonful of her soup and let it warm her body. She was still dripping, but the heat from the fireplace in the tavern and the soup that she was now eating, was helping her body to dry.

She shrugged a little though; she didn’t feel like it was too good of an idea to stay in the tavern for too long. While a Sylvari wasn’t more dangerous than any other race, a rare race was always treated with distrust, or almost always. “I’ve shared the starting plan with you, there are more plans, depending on what information we gather from the swamps and whatever hides in there, but I don’t think I should stay here any longer. I’ll take the soup with me outside to the stables and I’ll stay out there until you are ready to move. I’d prefer to avoid an incident with the customers here.” She didn’t know how many eyes were on her, but she could at least feel a few, and that was more than she needed. She stood up again, making no sound as she did, grabbed all of her stuff plus the bowl of soup and gave him a small nod “If you’d like to speak more, you know where to find me.” She said and then she left the table. A few of the guys in the tavern had already gotten up from their chairs, but seeing that she was about to leave the tavern, at least the indoor parts of the tavern, they sat down again.

Eliza went out to the stables and walked for a few seconds through the rain again, it wasn’t long, but it was enough to make her all wet once again. She found an empty horse booth and went in there. There were some unused hay that she put on the ground to make it more soft and then she sat down with her legs crossed and the soup in front of her. While it was a risk, she decided to put on some spiders above the stable doors, that could function as an alarm bell, should anyone come into the stables, including her newest ally. Even though she was going to work together with him, she preferred to stay on the safe side of things, and that meant knowing what was coming for you, ally or foe. The spiders crawled up the walls, very tiny spiders, and went to the entrance, created their web and waited while Eliza began eating the rest of her soup.

[Fetzen]

Vyzel had tracked the Sylvari as she left the building, his head slowly turning away from his table and his eyes going for the outermost corner they could reach. She probably had not been able to see it with her back facing towards him, but the Slayer's facial expressing had become more and more grim with each of her extremely fleet-footed steps. It appeared to the assassin that his companion had not yet exactly got the point when it came to staying below the attention level. The weather was a wet and horrible, the tavern's main hall dilapidated but still comfortable, she had just received her ordered meal and then... she went outside to eat it there ?

The man started calculating: From the point of view of group dynamics it would have been advisable to accompany her immediately, however from the aspect of not triggering even more eyes to greedily follow their tracks such a decision would have been catastrophic. Vyzel decided to stay and to continue eating as long as there was some of his own soup left. Normally the eight-foot man would have ordered another plate and possibly even another one after that, but in attempt to salvage whatever benign parts of the first impression he'd made on Eliza were left he overruled the needs of his body and heaved himself off the chair.

Vyzel didn't look around much. He approached the barman behind the counter and flicked some coins in his direction, then turned around and bowed beneath the doorframe in order to get through. The heavens still tried to drown the world, but at least he had his hood. It would have been possible to try and track her down by using the parameters he had been able to gather in the short time available. People wore different shoes (if any), made differently sized steps, had differetnly large feet and were of different weight. Depending on the properties of the ground below all of this could be used to distinguish between different footprints, but the mere fact that she had just told him where to find her spoiled the idea completely.

As Vyzel walked the few meters around the building towards the stables his mind became more and more engaged in thoughts about how superior she could be compared to him in many, if not most aspects. It would make the journey even more difficult, especially since coming into conflict was not much of an option given the nature of their objective. The huge man ducked below the crossbeam that supported the shabby roof and didn't notice the spiders Eliza had put there. After all -- for the ordinary eye -- the little animals remained quite passively while they were giving her an advance warning. On the plus side it had not been his intention to surprise her anyway.

"So here you are. Are you ready ? I'll prepare the horses." Vyzel had brought two horses with him, both being very large beasts marked by strength. Given her stature he estimated that she could ride all day on one of them, but he would have to try and manage a sparse resource called stamina. The slayer didn't just stand around while waiting for an answer. He got to work immediately and started to guide the two steeds out into the rain. Saddles were available and the driver of his wagon was quick to respond to him clapping his hands and waving. Better to start with many supplies than with few. They'd be on their own soon enough he thought.