ADVENTURE LOG XXIX

TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS

The wind-ravaged plains of Cindermaw’s hunting grounds were the most desolate they’d seen yet in the Cinderlands. It was disturbingly flat, leveled by the movements of an unseen creature. The Flowers, the Truth Speaker, and the four Bone Slayers all watched in uneasy silence, looking for the tell-tale shifting of the earth that would indicate the presence of the unnatural purple worm.

They heard it first. A low rumbling, growing steadily louder. Turning to face the sound, they saw a bit of red dirt lump as something passed underneath. A moment later, headed obliquely in their direction, it lumped again. Their initial impression was that it didn’t seem that extraordinary, but as it got closer to them the truth of the matter was impossible to ignore. Distance and lack of landmarks were distorting their perceptions. It breached briefly, and it was the largest thing they’d ever seen.

The head alone of the worm was the size of a city block. Unlike images some of them had seem of purple worms, this creature’s skin resembled molten lava, and it left bursts of flame in its wake where it passed the scrub brush of the area. It was some distance away still, but the speed of it caused Akram to suggest those of them not looking to be eaten might need to find somewhere safer to observe the proceedings.

The Flowers sprung into action. Calli began applying the red Shoanti paint they’d been gifted to both Byron and Travis, to aid in their resistance to the fire they’d be experiencing. Nightingale and Taylan used wands and their own natural spellcasting to layer further protections upon the duo, making them hardier, more nimble, more resistant to the extreme heat, and giving them the ability to fly, for an easier escape once the task was achieved. The barbarians downed potions of bark skin, and Byron drank his bull’s strength potion for good measure.

All possible precautions taken, Calli gave Byron a kiss for luck, and the party retreated to a nearby cliff on the outskirts of the hunting grounds to watch, leaving Byron and Travis stood shoulder to shoulder to face down the creature of legends.

They didn’t have to wait long before the land in front of them exploded, covering them in a shower of sandy dirt, and the limbless monster rose up- and up- and up before them. The air rippled from the heat it radiated, and they briefly saw the inside of a mouth ringed with rows of needle-like teeth the size of spears before Cindermaw exhaled a gout of flame over the duo.

The two pushed off, ignoring the searing pain and flying up through the flames towards the mouth. Vision impeded by the waterfall of flames, Byron slammed into the massive teeth with such force that his breastplate came unlatched on one side, and he had to scramble to readjust outside the beast’s mouth. Travis zipped past him into the mouth without trouble, but the gullet within was closed tight. The cavernous mouth was unbearably stifling, and he had no intentions of lingering.

Travis spun on the spot to add momentum to the power of his attack, and lodged his ax into where the throat was closed against him. To his surprise, the inside of the worm’s mouth was nearly as impenetrable as the outside. He chopped away at it, frustrated that it was proving to be so difficult to be swallowed.

Cindermaw contracted its mouth, chomping down on the half-orc within. The worm then turned, flicking out at Byron with its tail and slamming into him like a brick wall made of lava. A poisoned stinger on the tail sliced along a bared deltoid, causing a rain of blood to drip down over his brightly-coloured flower tattoos. The poison surged into his system, and he felt significantly weakened. He tapped into his barbarian rage to repair some of the damage taken. Inside the famed Maw, Travis guzzled a healing potion and prepared himself to launch forward the moment the throat opened to him.

From the cliff the Shoanti watched with interest, the Flowers more anxiously. Seeing Byron not having made it inside yet, but continuing to take damage, and the worm looking like it was about to dive back into the ground: Calli began calculating her magic’s reach.

The gargantuan worm opened it’s mouth again to launch another attack, giving Travis the opportunity to fly forward into the darkness of its throat. Byron made his way into the mouth just in time to see his boots vanish. The teeth once more began to clamp down, and Byron braced for the stabbing of numerous teeth, but the monster shuddered to a halt.

Calli was singing, and to everyone’s delight the size of the creature made it no less susceptible to her hold monster spell.

Byron and Travis rushed onward through its digestive system, until the worm was able to finally shake out of the magical hold. The guts of the monster constricted around them, as the natural acids began trying to break down the living meals. The men felt they’d gone far enough, and working in tandem began to cut an exit for themselves with ax and claws. Their muscles strained to keep the squeezing intestine stretched enough to allow them the movement they needed for their attacks.

On the cliff The Flowers counted the seconds, and wondered how long they should wait before launching contingency plans. They needn’t have worried. From the side of Cindermaw burst forward their two partners, who flew up and away from the snapping worm beneath them as quickly as they could.

Cindermaw dove back into the earth and rumbled away.

The two barbarians made a rough landing on the cliff as they returned to their party, both looking quite badly damaged. Byron grunted in pain as the poison continued to surge within him, but after he described what was happening to him Travis remembered the gift he’d gotten from the travelling Varisians. He hung his amulet of poison protection around Byron’s neck, and the later felt a cool wave of relief as the toxins were purged from his system. The amulet, expended, cracked.

The Flowers and Shoanti cheered alike, and surrounded the two triumphant heroes with praise. Akram, a cleric of Desna, restored Byron’s lost strength and healed the two men.

“And now you’re both absolved of any sins, according to the Shoanti,” Calli reminded them. There was a brief moment that the barbarians thought back to their times working for Gaedren, but they kept their opinions on the subject to themselves.

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Akram asked what would be next, and The Flowers said the only thing left on their list was to face the trials of the Sun Clan. Taylan would have to teleport them, but could only transport a few of them at a time. Taylan chose to bed back down to recover what he could, and the others passed the few hours their sorcerer needed by chatting more with their new Shoanti friends. Akram seemed particularly interested in Taylan. While everyone else had adapted to their situations, Taylan seemed like a determined city dweller deep out of his element, and yet still the boy seemed chipper and optimistic. Calli used the time to gain the memory from Akram of a location near the village they needed to visit, ready to pass to Taylan when he awoke. Akram and Calli discussed the spell, and she questioned him about his time as a Truth Speaker, asking for ways to spot lies she may not know. It became apparent his skill was less about quantifiable tells, and more due to their belief that he had lived many successive honest lives, until his spirit naturally had acquired the talent. Nightingale suggested a group game of “Two Truths and a Lie” to help her hone her skills, as she’d be able to compare the ways people spoke when answering. Some of the group seemed less interested in the experiment, and were relieved when Taylan woke up before she could badger anyone into it.

Taylan, with the new memory of their destination, gathered Bone Slayer Nalmid, Truth Speaker Akram, and Nightingale for his first teleportation. When they arrived, they all looked around somewhat confused, as they were back in the Kallow Mounds, and not where they were meant to be at all. He had to use another precious spell slot to get his first group where they were meant to be, and returned to the rest of the party alone and slightly sheepish. He wouldn’t be able to get everyone transported today, and because he’d already essentially tapped into the next day’s spells, it wouldn’t be tomorrow, either. A discussion was had, and the decision was made for The Flowers to carry on with their mission. The last three Bone Slayers would camp out and wait until Tayan could return to collect them. Extra supplies were left behind, along with more apologies, and the rest of the Flowers went with Taylan on his final trip of the day.

The place Akram had taken them to was as near to the Sklar-Quah village as he’d been, but he knew the direction of it, and they continued their journey on Nightingale’s summoned horses. They hadn’t gotten too far before they heard thundering hooves, and were intercepted by six mounted Sun Clan warriors. Their horses had armor of a woven grass, and they bore tattoos similar to those they’d seen on Krojan and his men.

The warriors challenged their intentions, laughing at the idea of outsiders attempting to gain entry into their clan. Their laughter faded to wary suspicion as the Truth Speaker verified their claims, and they agreed to bring the group to their leader.

They were led into a highly defensible spot at the edge of an 80ft high cliff where they could see the village ahead across a wide open expanse of seemingly empty land. The warriors warned them to follow their trail exactly, and took them through a windy and complicated path that avoided the magically sharpened landscape. Calli sang a tune to inspire competence, allowing everyone to avoid missteps.

The camp itself had a horse corral and many yurts that housed hundreds of Shoanti. The appearance of outsiders drew a crowd as they were led to a colossal fire at the center of the village. The people shifted to let through a dignified aged man they deduced was the Sun Shaman, a middle-aged man wearing additional accouterments singling him out as the likely Chieftan, and a bit younger than that was the mighty bulk of Krojan. The leader spoke quickly, with anger, demanding to know the meaning of the trespass. He scoffed at the idea of tshameks seeking their approval, and asked what they could possibly do.

Travis took the lead, casually but without insult mentioning the many steps they had taken: defeating Gilgamesh and his army, clearing out the chimeras from the river crossing and the red reaver from Desna’s temple, “and we just cut our way out of- what was that thing called?”

“Cindermaw,” Calli provided.

“And I didn’t even wreck my mark,” Byron held up his palm with the seven-sided star brand.

Akram gave his word as the Truth Speaker that what they said was true. Murmuring rippled through the crowd, and in spite of his persistent anger, the chief was clearly impressed.

Calli spoke, “I understand you have generations of valid reasons to not want to trust us, and that the onus is on us to prove worthy of your time. I hear there are trials we could attempt that might make you more willing to hear our request?”

The murmuring crowd went silent at once, and all eyes turned to the shaman. He placed a hand on the chief's shoulder, who instructed them to stay where they were, and the two turned and walked back through the onlookers into a yurt. Krojan, arms crossed, stared hard at the group, lingering on Travis.

Akram spoke in low tones to The Flowers. “Ah… you’ve requested to take the Sun Trials. You’ve asked to be accepted into their tribe.”

“Ah, I didn’t realism that…” Calli silently wished Thousand Bones had been more specific.

“I know. Had I realized, I might have advised a different course of action. They’re a closely guarded secret, even I don’t know anything about them, except that, if the shaman rejects your request, you will all be disemboweled.”

The group shifted uncomfortably, but only for a moment. Taylan grumbled, “They can certainly try…” and the Flowers took heart, knowing that together their odds were very good, indeed. Byron settled with Shanks to begin feeding the little hippogriff, Nightingale set up to begin cooking for the party, Calli began performing for the gathered audience, and Travis -unbothered by Krojan’s attempt at intimidation - pulled out the party’s deck of cards for a game with Akram, Nalmid, and Taylan while they waited to learn their fate.

An hour passed before the chief and shaman returned. The crowd, which had mostly dispersed, regathered. The wizened shaman requested the Flowers step forward and speak their names, before agreeing to let them undertake the Trial of the Totem. It would not just deem them worthy of an audience, but if successful, would make them a part of their tribe. The shocked reactions from the onlookers were audible, Krojan loudest of all. The warrior stormed off, found his horse, and rode out of the settlement in a huff.

It was to begin the next morning at dawn, and until then they would be allowed to stay. They would be given a place to sleep together in one of their dwellings, food if needed, and would come to no harm. The chief then commanded the crowd to disperse, and everyone returned to their own business.

Akram and Nalmid were pleased, and Akram apologized that he’d need to take his leave. He’d spoken his truth, but as the trial was a closed practice, they would need to depart and be gone before dawn. Nalmid offered to accompany Akram back to the Moon Clan, to ensure his safety, before returning to her own Skull Clan to spread the deeds she’d witnessed while with the Flowers. The Flowers didn’t like the idea of them travelling on their own, but the Shoanti were unconcerned, familiar as they were with the Cinderlands. They felt they had a better chance of avoiding anything truly dangerous when not in such a large group of lowlanders. At this the pair shared a friendly chuckle. Akram did offer one last piece of advice, that Krojan was a very proud individual, but also very influential, and it would be in their best interest to gain his personal approval. They said their goodbyes before one of the Sun Clan escorted them safely back through the treacherous flatland that surrounded the village.

The Flowers were shown which yurt was to be theirs for the night, and then left to their own devices. A large open room, clean, with simple mats for each of them. Calli hung their tent to create a room divider so she would have privacy from the others when required, mindful to leave room for two.

The party could tell they were being watched, but the villagers largely ignored them. When Byron harnessed Shanks to begin getting him used to being handled, any small children that showed interest were herded away. He showed interest in the Sun tribe’s horses, but was met with a stern refusal when he offered to brush one down.

Travis spent time paying attention to the specific dress, tattoos, and customs of the Sklar-Quah, mindful that if they were going to be joining he would want to be respectful of their ways. Seeing how seriously they took their connection with the sun and the flame, he spent time meditating on that.

Nightingale ran through his rapier forms, and had begun to suggest to Calli that he should check her progress, when Byron called out and asked if she’d like to learn some of his unarmed forms. She looked at her bodyguard apologetically, promising she’d get out her rapier in a bit, and then quickly joined Byron’s side. Nightingale huffed and returned to his blade work, but onlookers noticed his movements had become sharper.

Taylan carried on training of his own, previously given to him by Master Roshi, running laps and shadowboxing against the back wall of the large tent.

The party’s smaller members - Little Focker, Rune, and Owlet, sat on the yurt’s roof and watched them busy themselves below until finally the group all retreated inside for a long rest, full of questions of what the morning would bring.

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An hour before dawn they were woken by the sun shaman, the old bald man with numerous tattoos down the side of his face and arms, and three of the Thunder Callers they’d see accompanying Krojan previously. They were led outside the village, along the hidden trial, and eastward to a site known as Bolt Rock. The double mesa rose above to clearings 30ft and then 40ft high, and next to them at the ground level were five 10ft long stone totems, each with different symbols carved around the long rectangular sides, while one of the short square ends was rounded off.

It was explained that they would need to each select a totem, they would have one hour to carry it up the winding path to the first of the mesas, and balance it upright on the rounded end in one of the indentations they would find there. They must then keep them upright for an entire day. They’d have another hour to move the stones again to the topmost flat and again erect the totems in depressions there for another day. At the end of the second day, anyone who managed to keep their totems upright will have passed and be accepted into the tribe. No food or water would be brought to them, but they are welcome to use whatever they had. They were allowed to use whatever magic they had at their disposal to keep the totems upright, as long as it did not change or damage the structure of the totems or Bolt Rock in any way.

They were told they’d be visible from the village, and many eyes would be watching their progress. At night the stones glow with their own radiance, allowing those within the village to know even on the darkest nights whether the totems still stood. The Sun Clan would do nothing to hinder their progress, any obstacles they faced would come from the Cinderlands themselves.

There wasn’t long before dawn, so the Flowers threw themselves into coming up with a game plan. Unfortunately, the sparse desert surroundings left them little to work with, and their particular magical tricks were only briefly useful at best against the two-day agony that awaited them. Calli used their wand of endurance on everyone, to help with the strain they knew was to come. Nightingale cast bull’s strength on the barbarians, and the pair worked together to move the huge totems up the hill one by one, while Taylan guarded those already at the first location and Calli and Gale guarded those remaining at the bottom.

On the first mesa they each picked out a totem as their own. Everyone agreed Taylan should have the one of the smiling sun, Nightingale was drawn to the fire, while Travis was most suited to the alchemical symbol for fire. Of the remaining two, Calli took the radiating sun, and Byron accepted the totem carved with a sun partially obscured with clouds.

The depressions in the ground were rounded like one side of the totems, making it clear which side was to be inserted, but it also made it obvious keeping them upright would be no simple matter. They were spaced far enough apart so that they wouldn’t be able to help each other, either. For all their clever plans, there was no real way around it. Without a hand on the stone to help keep it balanced, it would fall. They would have to remain at attention for the next two days.

They remembered the Bone Slayers waiting for Taylan’s pick up, and Nightingale used a sending to warn them it would be an extra day, but they hadn’t forgotten about them. Byron helped lift Taylan’s stone upright, after which the half-elf could prop it up, and then everyone else lifted theirs to position. They were hollow, but still heavy, meaning letting them slip would surely cause damage as it impacted the rocky ground. The sun was fully over the horizon, and trial began.

Their elevated location gave them a magnificent view of the sunrise. At first, it seemed easy enough. They made idle conversation, told stories, and passed the time in much the way they had been over their weeks of travel together. But as minutes turned to hours, without the ability to move about, boredom set in. The sun rose in the sky, and the temperature rapidly rose, but the protective spells laid upon them kept them from taking sun damage. Little Focker and Rune flew between them, mopping brows and offering encouragement.

“What do we do when we need the loo?” Taylan asked.

Byron and Travis in answered in deadpan unison, “Go where you are.”

Calli was horrified. She was able to clean herself up with prestidigitation, but the others did not have that luxury, and they were spaced too far apart for her to help even the closest. They were all grateful for the open air location and steady breeze that took away the smells that eventually appeared as the day wore on.

The hours continued. Taylan’s voice gave out a worried cry, and they all looked over as his totem began tilting precariously. Focker, Owlet, and Rune all zipped over to try and help stabilize it, but two of the three were so tiny as to have not been there at all. The drake gave Taylan the precious seconds he needed to regain his grip, and it righted with a grunt of effort. The others released the breaths they’d been holding, and the trial continued.

At intervals through the trial Byron had the most awkward challenge of trying to feed Shanks without letting the stone fall. Focker helped as much as he could, and thankfully Byron was strong enough to manage, but it was a delicate balancing act, considering Byron was still having to chew the raw meat for the baby and spit it directly into its beak. Calli, Gale, and Taylan didn’t need to eat thanks to the magic rings they wore, and Byron and Travis were able to use the spoon of sustenance found at the acropolis to fill their bellies when needed (carried with a bowl back and forth by Focker), so thankfully keeping themselves nourished was not a concern.

The sun had crept across the sky past the zenith, and conversation had died away while they each retreated to their inner thoughts to keep motivated. Muscles stiff, they shifted and twisted as best they could to keep blood flowing. Again, Taylan’s stone began to wobble. Once more their smaller flying friends rushed over to help, and between them all they kept it from falling.

As the trial mercilessly continued, Byron made the case again for tying ropes around the stones, to give them more options on ways to hold them upright, and this time everyone agreed. Focker helped bring lengths of rope around the large pillars for each person to tie off and create better handles for themselves, and it did indeed let them alternate muscle groups. Everything was hurting enough that even the smallest relief made a huge difference.

Towards the end of daylight, through the waves of heat rippling from the mesa, Calli saw a small crystal clear pool of water collected in one of the unused depressions of the ground. For a moment she felt that if she was quick, she could splash it over her face to recharge herself. She debated, but was too afraid to leave her totem, and finally asked Rune to take her cup and scoop her some out. Rune looked at the empty hole, confused, and replied, “What water, miss?” It had been a mirage. The long hours of exertion were beginning to take their toll. Indeed, heads began to droop all around.

“New plan. Rune, could you sing for us? Something to clear the cobwebs?” Calli asked, and Rune happily performed a traveler’s rest spell that cleared all their fatigue and exhaustion for the day.

The sun set, another beautiful sight, and as the shaman had described the runes throbbed to life in a gentle blue glow. Rejuvenated by Rune, Calli picked up performing, taking requests from each of them to help pass the night without falling asleep where they stood. The temperature dropped precariously through the night, but endure elements continued to protect them. They all sang together in rounds towards the end of the first 24 hours, straining from the effort to keep the stones upright, but all of them determined enough to succeed without complaint.

Just before the sun rose on the second day, a lone figure joined them on the mesa. Krojan walked up, and sized each of them up without a word. Taylan gave him a thumbs up. He turned to leave, paused, and they heard him say, “You know what? People would be lucky to be related to you lot.” He retreated down the path again, and the worry that he had come to tamper with their attempts left them.

The sun arrived, and they each carefully lowered their totems, before falling to the ground to let their bodies rest for a moment. They wanted to bathe and to sleep, but their trials were only half over. They vigorously rubbed at their aching limbs, and when feeling returned, they all began moving again. Calli cleaned everyone up magically, and then her and Nightingale repeated their spells from the previous day. They all worked together to move the totems up to the top level, reorganized where they stood so that Taylan was between the two strongest and across from Gale in case Taylan’s stone wobbled again, and tried to mentally prepare themselves for another long slog with the stones.

The view from the top of the mesa was even grander than the lower level. The Cinderlands stretched away in every direction, rich reds and browns in layers rising and falling across the desert, dotted with green clusters of precious vegetation. It made the first few hours of the second day almost nice. But they were still store, and tired, and in every other way the second day was worse than the first.

The sun was high above, when Taylan spotted a ripple in the earth heading towards them. He warned everyone, before focusing on the Thrall Keeper’s Mark and summoning three large Earth Elementals to intercept the incoming threat. Looking around, they saw other ripples in the earth, so Nightingale and Byron immediately followed suit.

Bursting out of the ground and clambering up the side of the mesa were six huge creatures that could only be described as land sharks. The bulettes were armor plated beasts with four legs, long claws, and a fin on their backs. Their heads curved at the front to a point, and hinged almost in half to reveal the edges of the strange beaks were serrated- like built-in teeth. These monsters were known for their insatiable hunger and brute strength. The Flowers, unable to leave their totems, had to get creative.

Taylan and Nightingale set the mesa ablaze with coordinated fireballs. The strange animalistic screams of the bulettes were cut short as the party’s elementals slammed into oncoming threats. Calli’s voice rang out in inspiration, and she extended her magic to hold one of the creatures frozen on place. Travis took aim and sent his axe flying end-over-end to bury itself in the broad back of one of the creatures. It vanished and reappeared in his free hand.

After their opening assault, one of the bulettes turned tail and fled. The others bit at anything they could reach. Byron and Travis took hits, but the elementals protected the others by taking the rest of the attacks.

Taylan’s eye beams seared into the monster menacing Travis, Calli used her hold monster to stop the one on Byron, and the elementals continued to beat on the rest of the creatures. The tide was turning. Nightingale vaporized a few more bulettes (and a few of the elementals in the crossfire), and Travis dropped the final monster with another well-placed axe toss.

The sound of the wind replaced the violent scuffling. Looking around, the standing totems remained unbothered. The long challenge continued, and while their agony, both mental and physical, drove them towards a snapping point, each of them kept in mind everything that was at stake, and they remained stalwart. A few days of disgusting discomfort was nothing when it might save the lives of the people they cared for, and the city they called home.

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Dawn of the third day was a blur for the Flowers. While unharmed and kept refreshed by magical means, the toll had still exhausted their soul. The Sklar-Quah’a Shaman led entire tribe up to greet them with a rousing cheer. Some brawnier members of the clan relieved them of their burdens and gently lowered the totems to the ground. The Shaman spoke in a voice that carried without effort, “These totems represent new brothers and sisters for the Sklar-Quah, and are cause for a great celebration. As long as even one totem remained standing, everyone in the party would have been accepted, for even among the Sun Clan there are those whose skills lie in areas other than fortitude and stamina. Simply attempting the task where at least one ally succeeds is enough.” The crowd cheered again, while the Flowers shared brief grimaces at how much easier the trial could’ve been had they known.

The Shaman hands high for silence again, and personally welcomed each of the Flowers by name. They were now full members of clan, welcome at Flameford as guests. The Shaman also asked Travis for proof of Gilgamesh’s death, to which Travis presented the preserved severed head. The spiritual leader listed all the things the Flowers had done (including put a mighty black dragon back to sleep, leaving out that they had released it in the first place) and concluded that they’d earned his respect. He agreed to tell them what we need when he returned, he simply needed to travel to the Kallow Mounds first to ensure he has all his facts from his ancestors. He would accompany the Chieftan and four of their Thunder Callers on the journey, so Krojan would in charge of tribe in their absence. In the mean time they were to relax, celebrate, and get to know their new family.

The Flowers expressed their gratitude, but indicated how they needed a great deal of sleep before they could do anything else. People laughed, and led them back to the village, where their yurt had been made up with extra furs and amenities. Before it had been the bare minimum, simply a place to sleep, but it had been transformed into somewhere truly welcoming.

When Taylan awoke recharged a few hours later, thanks to his ring, he teleported off to remain true to his word and retrieve the remaining Bone Slayers. They thanked him, then retreated to outside Flameford to set up came until The Flowers were ready to leave,

When Byron and Travis woke to join the rest of the Flowers, spirits were high. Nightingale and Travis used glamour to make their clothing more closely resemble the leathers of the tribe, and Calli used her hairpin to alter her colors into the vibrant reds and yellows of the Sun Clan.

The party was massive. They met many, ate, drank, danced, heard stories of the clan, and felt truly accepted. Then they asked the Flowers to share. They knew the outcomes of their trials, but wanted to hear more details of how the great deeds were done. As a group, they began painting pictures with their words- aided by magical images, leaving out many of the less impressive moments along the way. Calli, the bard, naturally took charge- letting the others elaborate on their fantastic kills for themselves- but keeping the tales moving along, keeping the audience rapt. She ended their stories by debuting a new song that she’d been long working on for the Flowers themselves. A drinking song painting their ongoing bravery in a heroic light, and hearing the Quah sing along with the chorus made her heart swell with joy. She felt the Eagle Harp seem to react, as well, thrumming with new power she’d unlocked. Rune herself, tied divinely to the harp, seemed to glow even brighter with potential.

A female Shoanti with a strong, lean build approached Taylan, and said if he was willing to shave his head they could have a good time. Many of the Sklar-Quah preferred a hairless look.

“My wife likes my hair,” Taylan explained. “No, thank you.”

“Your loss.” She looked among the other Flowers, and smiled at Travis- already bald. “What about you, big boy?”

Travis thought about it only a moment, and then returned her smile. “Why not?” She led him away, presumably to her own dwelling, and he was gone for a few hours.

That evening, to memorialize their success, The Flowers each chose a tattoo. Byron added a large sunflower to his sleeve, and it spread down over his right pectoral. Calli had the radiating sun symbol from her totem added as a backdrop of hope behind the flowers and crown on her back. Nightingale added each of their totems’ symbols to the knuckles of his right hand, so that he’d always have The Flowers with him when he fought. Taylan had one of the land sharks illustrated on his left bicep, “Alice might kill me…” and Travis got one of the most prominent symbols of the Sklar-Quah themselves, a fierce burning sun in yellow, orange, and red outlined and shaded with thick striking black lines.

Their journey was far from over, but they took the moment to really appreciate how much they’d achieved, and felt a unity stronger than any they’d experienced so far.

For a few hours, anyway.

As they returned to their yurt in pleasant conversation, tired and merry, Byron asked for a moment of Calli’s time. “I still have a bit of damage from that bulette, do you think you could see to it?”

Travis scoffed loudly, and Byron looked at him in surprise. “What happened to you? We went into a massive wyrm’s mouth the other day, but you’re crying over a boo-boo?”

Byron protested, and Calli took his arm. She smiled at Travis, “I think he’s more concerned with the being tended to than the wound itself.” The pit fighter grinned conspiratorially and nodded.

Gale cleared his throat. “Byron. You obviously have a… a relationship with my charge.” Their smiles faltered, but Taylan’s grew at what he suspected was coming. Nightingale continued, “Over the course of the journey you two have grown close. I’d like to take this moment to formally give my approval. You have my blessing-”

Byron cut in, “As long as I have Calli’s blessing, that’s all I care about.”

The older man kept talking, “Just take care of her. And I was going to suggest the two of you might like to start working together as a mage and a fighter- my parents used to be in a fighting ring together-”

Calli’s face brightened in relief, “OH, the mage fights!” She looked up at Byron, “You would love that!”

Nightingale carried on, “You go up against other duos. Paid.”

Calli butt in again, “Pit fights, but for the rich people!”

“As a fighting pair. I’ve got contacts I can set you up with.”

She frowned, “It wouldn’t mean spending more time with Clara, would it?”

“No, I’ll ask father.”

Byron held up a hand to stop the two of them. “Let’s get through all this first, then we can look into that.”

“Of course. Oh, can I ask one more thing?” Settling on his bedroll, Nightingale took off his bowler hat. “Please stop fucking in the tent with the rest of us around.”

Travis burst out laughing at the faces of Byron and Calli as they fell. Taylan eyes widened and he added, “It was so animalistic!”

Calli’s voice had raised an octave, “I used my silent spell! We were out of sight!!”

“I’m asking you to use a bit more discretion,” her bodyguard chided.

“I’ve been very discrete,” Byron had been actively trying not to catch the attention of the magus, wary of his deadly electric rapier.

“You think you’ve been discrete, and you may have taken care of the sound, but the lights were behind you, and we all saw your silhouettes projected on the tent-” Nightingale went suddenly still, frozen in place. Calli’s magic danced around her raised hand, having used hold person in horror to get him to stop talking.

Taylan tilted his head, “So at the wedding, do I give you-” Her other hand raised, and the sorcerer froze as well.

“NONE OF THIS.” She commanded. She looked at Travis sharply, and he held his hands up and shook his head in surrender.

Byron looked around before mumbling, “Forget the first aid, it’s fine.”

————————————————————

The Flowers had all retired to their accommodation provided by the Shoanti tribe, wonderful spacious Yurts with deep animal skins carpeting the ground and heavy wall hangings woven from course heavy yarn providing extra warmth, security and a feeling of privacy. The sounds of the village winding down for the night permeated through the heavy canvas and animal skin dwellings providing a comfortable reassuring ambient back drop, of people moving about their business, others chatting enjoying jovial banter as some of the men folk were still playing a game of horseshoe pitch in the torch lights, even the occasional snippet of a song could still be heard. When suddenly the serenity of the Shoanti evening was shattered by alarmed terrified cries and shrieks of children running, the awful wails of the tribe being attacked! It took a second but suddenly everything was chaos, the Flowers quickly responding to the sounds of terror, alarm and pain. The scene they witnessed was like a page from the darkest hell as thin emaciated terrors descended upon the Shoanti from the skies, their large leathery wings allowing them great speed as they swooped and dived at the villagers.

"Ware the skies," a cry went up as everyone ducked for cover. A grey long-limbed beast with a hideously gnarled face, sharp yellow teeth protruding from its upper jaw, arced down from the heavens, its great leathery wings propelling it with great speed, it reached down and plucked a young Shoanti woman and dragged her into the air, screeching in triumph gripping its struggling prize. Its claws digging deep into the womans flesh and then the nightmarish beast threw her down onto the hard stoney ground, she lay there un-moving like a bloodied broken doll. The beast took off licking the blood from its clawed hands as it went searching for its next victim. More of the feral beasts attacked from the skyline but the Shoanti momentarily taken unaware were now beginning to organised themselves ready to face the hideous winged threat. 

As the band of adventurers left the cover and relative safety of their Yurt's and charged into the fray Nightingale was momentarily hit with a strong feeling of deja'vu, of Gargoyles fearsome in aspect terrorizing villagers and suddenly the Harrow Card he had drawn came to mind. Magic, mysticism and mystery surrounded them so this prophetic vision of the future didn't strike him as odd or peculiar only strengthened him in his resolve to rid these villagers of these winged menace's.

As the Flowers prepared to help defend the Shoanti, it became apparent that they were not only facing the flying long-limbed gargoyles, but also the deadly Red Mantis Assassins who had obviously joined and orchestrated their attack with the hideous winged beasts. 

Seeing the Assasins Byron put on his purloined Assassin helmet, primarily to employ the innate features of insect shaped head gear, but the helmet provided its wearer with an accurate indication of its opponents health. Also, it might momentarily confuse any Red Mantis attacker as to who Byron was. These small advantages seem worth the encumberance of wearing the insect-like  shaped helmet.

"Stop your faffing about," grumbled the huge half Orc Travis, "lets get on with it!"

Calli’s powerful voice began to weave a strident melody that immediately bolstered the fighting spirits of all those around them. Indeed Byron began to unconsciously hum the tune as he faced the oncoming threats which both he and Travis charged, the joy of battle once more beginning to fuel their actions!

Another of the airbourne terrors began to attack and quickly Calli counter-pointed her inspiring melody with an harsh discordant run of notes in an attempt to use her voice to hold the vicious beast to little effect as the beats continued its attack.

Nightingale raced to the melee and immediately faced off against one of the red armoured assassins attacking the tribesmen and before the red armoured warrior could even move to strike his new opponent the rapier wielding sword master struck with such devastating precision, critically finding one of the few chinks in the mans armoured chitin and then channelled his inner rage and fire down through the blade. The electrical discharge from the sword masters attack caused many to shield their eyes and look away as the armoured man was essentially vaporised, electric current lines lacing the remains of the fallen warrior. With his back turned, two opportunist gargoyles sensing an easy attack rushed the magus but the power output from the Magus' attack caused both to veer and miss their quarry.

Amidst the chaos two of the heavily carapaced warriors stepped forward, both immediately started moving in an almost unnatural way. Both Assassins held two vicious looking blades known as Sawtooth Sabres and resembled the fore-legs of a Mantis. With speed and deftness they began to move these blades so quick so fast they truly seemed to become almost an extension of the mans arm. Where the hand ended and the sword blade began became lost as both seemed to move as one, blend together in a deadly dance. Indeed for a second the entrancing hypnotic movement of the assassins hand and blade seemed to mesmerise and indeed may have held but for a mis-step, a tiny trip or a rushed hand movement broke the spell before it could truly take hold.

Realising that they had failed in their magic one of the red armoured warriors stepped forward a saw-tooth blade in each hand and with an air of command stood before the assembled warriors Shoanti and Flowers alike and with a voice used to command shouted,

"Flowers... you are cowards consigning these proud Shoanti to death!" His insect-like helmet turned to regard those that assembled in front of him, completing the image of a giant Mantis about to devour it's prey.

"We have no wish to kill so many," he continued," but you leave us no choice." His next remarks he addressed to the Shoanti themselves," Shoanti if you hand them over to us we will call off the attack and leave you alone."

For a moment all was silent.

The Red Mantis waited.

The Flowers were silent.

The tribe held for a moment.

A large tattooed Shoanti warrior stepped forward looking the chitin encased warrior in the face, "Fuck off you gnat, call this a fight? I've passed harder turds than you!" And with that  the rest of the Shoanti started jeering and laying into those foes around them. Theirs was not a quiet peaceful tribe of farmers ready to be herded like some defenseless sheep, they were Shoanti 'Sun Clan,' and this lesson they would teach to these winged devils and armoured men!

Violence erupted once again throughout the village.

The Gargoyles and assassins’ sneak attack may have initially worked.

But the Sun Clan now organised.

The Sklar-Quah now fought back.

And the Flowers bolstered their clan.

Angered by this cowardly attack Byron charged, and seeing a large man-shaped insect in front of him jumped into the air, the pounce adding momentum and freedom to his attack as he descended upon the armoured warrior, the words and song of the beautiful bard lending him greater strength.  As he descended though raging he choose only to attack with his armoured gauntlets, trusting to the quantity of attacks the gauntlets granted rather than the cruel precision of his claws.

The first strike with his gauntlet-ed fist hit hard, wounding critically. The Mantis's jaw was smashed within his helmet.

The second strike a body shot destroying armour and flesh.

His opponent sensing danger sliped the third attack in a desperate attempt to avoid the barbarians onslaught only to be caught by two final blows to the body that destroyed and rended whatever was left of the Red Mantis. As the body of the assassin fell to the ground like a beaten bloodied rag it vanished, leaving behind only his armour and bloodied stains upon Byron's fists.

"Well done boss," said a small purple scaled drake as it descended down from the skies to sit upon Byron's shoulder looking at the pile of now empty armour and weaponry left lying on the floor. 

The two assassins who had failed in their attempt to entrance the group now piled in believing that the two of them could easily through strength of numbers prevail against a single rapier wielding man who was apparently wearing no armour as such but a bowler hat!

The thrill of battle hummed in the air, the sound of this brutal endeavour invigorated the half orc Travis. In the past he had tried to deny this side of himself, to lock it away, but now he accepted it. This battle rage was part of him and now he let it come...in defense of his friends, in defense of this tribe, his fiery rage would fuel his attack.

The two red armoured bastards were attacking Nightingale, two 'insects' verses one 'bird' was not right...not balanced.

Travis' rage was an eruption of power and violence as he ran straight into the melee wielding his terrible looking axe. Knowing that he only had one shot at this point he had to make it count, and using all the power at his command he slammed the lethal looking blade into the back plate of the 'pissant' would-be insect. Now this was right... the scales balanced.

Taylan employed the cover of the Yurt to give himself vital seconds to consider his next move. Everything was chaos as Sun Clan and his friends battled gargoyles and Assassins. Ferocious, savage violence surrounded him from the skies to the ground. But in the centre of it all he could see Gale, his mentor and friend being beset by a hideous emaciated winged creatures that seemed to be have been dragged from the deep recesses of some infernal nightmare. The thought of rushing headlong into that maelstrom of violence like Travis, Gale or Byron would serve no one here.

"There's more than one way to skin a cat or beat a winged horror," was the thought that occurred to the young mage as he drew on his own growing magical ability. "Lets fight fear with fear," and with that the young mage let loose with a dark almost black mist that seemed to emerge from his outstretched hand and it seemed to curl and twist around his arm, and with one sudden motion he threw it at two of the winged creatures that were dive- bombing Nightingale hoping to rake him with their clawed hands.

As the mist hit the two flying fiends the dark cloud covered them both. One of the monstrosities flew straight through the dark mist seemingly unaffected however the beast suddenly stopped and hovered in the air, his large leathery wings flapping as fear seemed to sink deep into his emaiciated frame. For a moment the skeletal creature just hovered there shaken. The seconded appeared to become coated and covered with the darkness completely staining his his ashen skin. This skeletal creature also just hovered there confused, before it looked at Taylan and his eyes seemed to bulge with fear, his mouth opened in horror revealing rows of sharp irregular yellow and brown teeth.

"Boo," whispered the young mage looking directly at the beast, causing the suspended bat-like craeture to flee, fear lending urgency to its retreat as if all the angels of heaven were after it. The dragon-blood half elf enjoyed the moment, but the battle still raged around him, and there surely would be more for him to do. 

As the torrent of fighting increased Calli sought to find the place where she could be the most help to those around her. Risking injury, or worse, she positioned herself somewhere close to the center of where her compatriots stood, and though she was open to attack she knew her next action could well be vital in this developing melee. Though she still sang her song of inspiration lending a magical weight to the Flowers attack, she also began to weave in a faster beat giving her melody, her magic a sense of urgency, of speed, a need for haste. Suddenly everyone around her touched by her voice and allied to her were moving just that little bit quicker, that little bit faster, though she quietly huffed in frustration as Nightingale was beyond the reach of her aria.   

Nightingale, comfortable working alongside the huge half orc Travis, elected to focus his attack on the assassin that Travis hadn't engaged, trusting the half orc to protect his flank and deal with the other red-carapaced opponent. With a feint and then an almost negligent deadly strike Nightingale found a critical weakness in the armoured warriors defense, beating the saw-tooth blade aside just enough and slipping his rapier point deep into the heart of this deadly combatant. The black coated swordsman was not only expert with the blade but a master of utilising blade and magic together as one to devastating effect. At the very moment the tip of his rapier pierced through not only the armour but also the body of his rival Nightingale sent a burst of brilliant energy down through the blade electrocuting his would be assailant. The execution was immediate as he withdrew his blade but then immediately almost fluidly he slashed his blade into the warrior battling the half orc. Finding his mark once more the fine-blade cut deep causing the Assassin to flinch in pain. He smoothly withdrew his fine blade as he prepared to parry and riposte.

Though many of the gargoyles were involved in battles and fracas across the battle site of the Sun Clan village the Gargoyle that had been temporarily shook by the young mages spell suddenly came to himself. The beast scanned the battle-site looking for the damned half elf that had magically attacked him. He spied the insipid child hiding beneath the safety of his yurt. Quickly both he and another of the wicked looking beasts flew down to terrorise and attack the elven half blood. They both flew down hard and fast but the slippery little whelp evaded their grasping greedy hands, rolling clear of their attack!

The Red Mantis Warrior having witnessed the damage this sword wielding lightning conductor could dish out decided it might be wise to try and take him out as soon as possible, and then try and face the half orc who had also engaged him. Having decided to act he gave his opposite no time to settle but rather swung with his Saw-Tooth blades. They may not have enjoyed the finesse of the rapier but when they hit they could exact a bloody toll. Which is what they did as the Assassin countered his rival’s parry, driving both blades into his leg and body. The damage inflicted on entry was vicious as both blades bit into Nightingale’s flesh but the damage and hurt was beyond brutal as he ripped the blades with their serrated edges out. The man's cry of pain was glorious, joyous to behold, he could see the damage he had inflicted, yet still the damned man stood, despite the pain he adopted the en garde position.

"What does it take to kill these bastards," thought the Mantis shaped man, preparing to face either the huge orc or the human fencer. 

Nightingale's cry cut across the battlefield, Calli immediately shouting her fear for her tutor, her mentor, her protector, lending urgency to her voice.

"Byron Nightingale needs help!"

The huge warrior reacted not only to his comrades perceived peril but also to Calli's cry of distress. Immediately he raced across the battle strewn ground assessing the situation to be dire he instinctively elected to attack with claws and their extra precision and power. As he quickly approached his quarry whose attention was fully on both Travis and Gale, Byron leaped into the air his clawed serrated talons driving out from his knuckles, his pounce taking him onto the assassins back and the power and momentum of his strike drove both claws deep into the mans chest. As he drew a clawed hand back for a haste fuelled third attack the Mantiss garbed warrior fell to the ground and disappeared, once again just leaving behind his armour and weapons and an off balanced barbarian as Byron fumbled his third attack and fell prone as his lethal looking extra attack hit nothing but air taking the big man to the ground.

Byron looked up as Nightingale and Travis regarded their 'fallen' comrade.

"You think he's injured?" quipped the big orc.

"Might be concussed," Nightingale commented, "took a nasty fall."

Byron detected the ghost of a smile upon his comrades lips as he sat in the dirt  injuries none, dignity a little bruised.

Travis offerd a hand to the fallen warrior and in the process of helping his fellow barbarian up he noticed Krojan being shot by a grizzled man wielding a wicked looking crossbow. A number of huge black bolts were already protruding from Krojan's muscled frame and with deliberate slowness the unknown arbalaster was firing more of the gruesome barbs into the Sun Clan warrior, bringing him painfully to his knees. All the while a savage animal menaced the warrior, taking bites out of his legs.

Immediately the half orc reacted to the scene in front of him, releasing Byron who once again fell to the ground. Though some distance from the locus of the battle, Travis, energised by the magic of Calli's song, was able with remarkable speed to get to the brutal confrontation between the Sun Clan warrior and unknown crossbow-wielding intruder. Krojan was enduring a massive amount of pain as bolts pierced his body, it was a wonder he was still standing, staring with a fierce hate at the man with the ballister. So intent is 'Crossbow' at his work, his mission that he doesn't realize the threat he's facing even as he is pulling the trigger again on his repeating bolt thrower.

As he rushed Krojan's assailant Travis swung his heavy brutal blade like a Lochaber, utilising the full length of the handle to maximise the effect of his weapon.

The blade cut deep into "Crossbow's'  body inflicting a terrible wound as the arbalastar whirled to face his new axe-wielding threat. Curiously, on the periphery of his vision what Travis took to be a dog was actually a leopard, but whatever the animal was, it was closing in on a fading Krojan. Travis had to end this quickly!

Taylan still hugging the safety of the Yurt stood witness to the imminent conflict between Travis and the Crossbowman. Hoping to weight the conflict in favour of his friend, the young mage sought to hamper the archer by casting the spell blindness, however seeing the archer level his weapon at the half orcs chest Taylon groans in frustration realising his magic had failed!

The padded leather armour of the bowman had absorbed much of the half orcs earlier axe blow but fearing he might not survive another onslaught from the enraged muscle bound green skinned monster 'Crossbow' elected to focus all his fire-power on the advancing orc half-breed. The weapon used was a large heavy repeating arbalast and 'Crossbow' was definitely skilled in its use. Taking careful aim he unloaded all the black heavy iron bolts that he could at his encroaching foe!

"Bastard," Crossbow spat as two of the three bolts he loosed missed their target. The bolts that struck connected with tremendous force with enough power to fell a large Elk!

But not Travis!

The wound from the bolt was savage and bloody as the barbed head had embedded itself in the half orcs chest, having cut through his mail shirt and now chewing up his flesh.

But still he came on!!!

He could see Krojan was down, almost finished, and that gave him solace, he hated that bastard and from the corner of his eye he could see his Fire-Pelt cougar taking chunks out of the Sun Clan leader.

"Not long now," 'Crossbow' thought to himself and smiled ready to face the next attack from the Shoanti gypsy loving fuckers.

From further afield Rune the Eagle Harp Lyrakien was momentarily flustered, so much was happening she was beside herself with indecision.

Travis was injured, Nightingale was far from well, and Krojan was being mauled by a large feral panther!

Calli with a little clear thinking, and sensing the Lyrakiens paralysis of action, quickly sent her to aid the Sun Clan warrior Krojan...or all their work and labour will have been for nought. Rune gave the Shoanti a bit of healing to help keep him alert.

Seeing the bolt buried in Travis' chest, and trusting that the other warriors in the group were heading to back the half orc up, Calli focused her magical abilities on the bedraggled looking crossbow-man. She quickly plucked the Eagle Harp producing a strident trill of notes, a melody that was so often compelling, and that infused with her innate magical ability would often hold someone in place. She added this new melody to the sound of her inspirational chant and directed it at 'Crossbow' but the tattered, grimy individual quickly looked in her direction having somehow felt her influence spat in her direction, clearly indicating her spell had failed.

Nightingale took advantage of 'Crossbow's' brief distraction and with a stretching lunge thrust his swept-hilt rapier deep into the mans shoulder, channeling more electrical power down the blade. Normally such a powerful attack would end most fights,  however despite the damage and electrical burns the damn man still stood!   

Travis lashed out as a couple of the lean emaciated looking gargoyles dive-bombed Nightingale. The beasts didn't account for the extra reach of the orc's two-headed axe, and the half orcs fortuitous swing felled one of the rank winged beasts, the monster abruptly falling dead weight from the sky.

Another of the vile beasts managed to administer a severe bite on Gale before quickly taking to the air.

Krojan's cry of pain from the on-going cougar attack and the Fire Pelt's answering snarl caught Byron's attention. Quickly he reacted fearing that Krojan wouldn't survive the continuing onslaught from the large vicious cat and so pounced at the beast. Retracting his claws he assaulted the beast with his armoured spiked gauntlets alone. Pounding the creature the huge human barbarian interspersed himself between the Feral panther and the bloodied warrior. For the longest time Krojan had grated Byron the wrong way, indeed on many occasion wanting to lay a fist on the man himself, and now here he stood protecting the man from harm! Six blows quickly followed breaking the creatures ribs, cutting up the animals snout. The glorious coated creature was thoroughly pummeled to a mewing dying carcass though one of his attacks went wild as he threw the beast from Krojan but managed to fumble his attack.

With the immediate danger clear, Lil Focher the purple Drake alighted onto one of Krojan's shoulders eliciting a cry of pain from the kneeling warrior pin-cushioned with vicious looking black bolts, the black fletchings protruding proudly from Krojan's punctured body.

"Quit your whinging," answered the Drake in reply to Krojan's cry of pain, "You’re meant to be hard, man!" And then the Drake began to spin a web of healing around Sun Clan warrior, allowing the wounded leader to breathe a little easier as a number of his injuries began to close up.

Travis roared at 'Crossbow' as he swung his axe, taking the man fully in the side of his body. Quickly following up with back-swing Travis fell wide of the mark, much to his frustration as 'Crossbow' deftly side- stepped the punishing blow.

Travis then prepared and swung a devastating downward strike, though momentarily fearing he may have over-balanced...

Calli with a clear view of the Travis' attack realised that the final blow would fall short, and instinctively aided his attack, her magic allowing him a moment of gallant inspiration, a chance to reset, to help ensure he hit.

She followed the path of the axe as it descended and... just made contact with 'Crossbow.'

The Crossbow Archer for a moment just stood facing the fierce green skinned orc, then dropped his crossbow, and finally fell to his knees. Travis watches as the life leaves the dark black eyes of arbaslaster.

With the death of the formidable bowman the few remaining gargoyles broke off their attack and made a full retreat to the safety of the skies, eager to leave behind the deadly reach of the Shoanti arrows. 

As the skies cleared of threat Krojan called to Travis, holding out his hand. "Help me up...Brother," Travis helped the Shoanti warrior to his feet. Krojan then offered his other hand to Byron. "And many thanks to you, my taller brother," joked the Sun Clan warrior. At that Travis snorted and walked off.

Krojan gave a cheeky grin as Travis walked away, in no mood to entertain Shoanti humour. At that Krojan made his way over to the fallen crossbow-man. The Flowers joined the heavily wounded Shoanti leader as they look down at the arbalaster.

"You have done us great service this day," continued the tribal warrior. "He was known as The Cinderlander, a major enemy of the Shoanti. Vengeance has been his mission, wishing the death of all the Shoanti after his family were killed in a Shoanti raid, regardless of their involvement." Krojan reached down and closed the eyes of his fallen enemy.

"Join your family Cinderlander, your vengeance is done and the Shoanti can breathe a little easier," Krojan then got up surveying the aftermath of the battle.

Looking at the Flowers he said simply, "You have proven yourselves in battle and protected the Shoanti. You are all now Shoanti, you are all my brothers..."

"And sister?" inquired Calli.

"Indeed," replied Krojan an easy smile coming to his face.

The Shoanti gathered their fallen, blessedly few, and everyone returned to their beds for the night. The clean-up could wait until daybreak.

————————————————————

In the morning the damage done to the village looked less grim than it had at night. Shadows had make slashes in leather hangings seem longer, holes in the yurts seem bigger. But in the sun’s light they could see where toppled stones had scattered to, and everyone banded together to make light work of repairs. Byron took the time to skin the Fire-pelt cougar, and Krojan expressed that he’d like to face him in shredna, as he had previously with Travis. The warrior looked up at the half-orc then, and demanded a rematch as well. The two barbarians agreed that at some point in the future, when they had time to relax once more, they would meet back up and see who was mightiest of the three.

The surprise attack the night before had interrupted the group’s heated discussion, but Calli hadn’t forgotten, and she cornered Nightingale alone in the yurt to let him know exactly how she felt about his ambush. They emerged not too long after, seemingly having found a truce.*

By the time the Chief, Sun Shaman, and Thunder Callers returned the following day, most of the harm had been undone. The Chief took over making arrangements to return to the Kallow Mounds again, this time with the newly dead, while the Sun Shaman invited The Flowers into his home to speak to them personally about what he had discovered.

As they followed him, Nightingale heard a magical voice cut in to his thoughts. Cressida Kroft had used a sending spell to reach him. “Return to Korvossa. An opportunity to strike at our enemies has presented itself. Mantis and the Maidens will fall! Seek us in the Dead Warren.”

Nightingale replied that they were getting information, and would be back soon. He let the others know, and then they settled in to hear what the Shaman had to say.

Inside the old man asked them to state again exactly what it was they needed to know, and Calli explained how the Queen Ileosa of Korvosa had found a crown- an artifact known as The Midnight Teeth- made of the blue dragon Kazavon’s fangs. They believed by wearing it, she’d become possessed by the spirit of the monster, and now she ruled with a cruel delight in causing pain, suffering, and death for her subjects. They wanted to know how they could put an end to it.

The man’s face had paled hearing the ancient foe’s name spoken aloud. “What I’ve been able to glean from my ancestors. Many hundreds of years ago a man named Mandraivus gathered a small group of heroes together to fight a despotic blue dragon named Kazavon. My ancestor was one who joined this crusade, a Shaman named Amarund, was gone for months. When she finally returned she was not the same woman. Her hands shook, her eyes carried a haunted stare, and she cried out in fear at night. She spoke little of what she experienced while fighting at Mandraivus’ side, but she did say they were successful in defeating Kazavon, and the dragon’s fortress of Scarwall in Belkzen was now under Mandraivus’ control. While Kazavon had been defeated, his will to live was so immense that even the remains of his body twitched. The heroes attempted to destroy the remains, but key fragments of the dragon’s skeleton resisted even their strongest and most destructive spells. Mandraivus tasked the seven surviving heroes, among them Amarund, each claiming one of the bony relics and taking them far from Scarwall. None of the seven would communicate where they were going to the others in the hopes that those relics would remain hidden and guarded for all time, in order to prevent the dragon from returning to life. Amarund told this story to her fellow Shamans, and revealed her selected relics were the dragon’s fangs, which she called Midnight’s Teeth. She and the other Shamans chose the ancient pyramid on the shores of Conqueror’s Bay as the site of the Fangs’ reliquary. After hiding them in a secret room deep inside the pyramid, Amarund and her descendants swore to ensure the Fangs would remain safe. For generations they maintained their task, until Cheliax invaders drove us off. The few survivors who knew the secrets of the Fangs were forced to flee with their kin into the Cinderlands. For the next three centuries the knowledge was passed from Sun Shaman to Sun Shaman, who’ve watched with fearful eyes as the city of Korvosa has grown up around our ancient reliquary.”

He paused to take a drink of water, and the Flowers turned over what they had learned, dread in their guts. He carried on to explain the fragments of Kazavon’s soul were like seeds, and once they found somewhere to take root, they would grow into a mighty tree. This was the case with Ileosa, and her own cruelty had been a fertile ground. Worse, he explained, she now possessed two souls. This would grant her extraordinary control over her own mortality.

They recalled the crossbow bolt she had pulled from her own skull.

“I would suggest that you participate in a ritual known as the Blessing of the Ancestors. We’ll summon an ancestor with whom you have a particularly strong link, and the stronger the link the more exacting the advice granted becomes. I will prepare this if you so choose.”

The Flowers felt better knowing Ileosa had already been evil, as they were unsure if they’d be able to put an end to the dragon’s reign without her being a casualty. They would not be harming an innocent. They began discussing what ancestors they could possibly call upon, and were leaning toward’s Taylan’s father The White Maw, until Zellara was mentioned. Calli pointed out none of them were actually related to the Varisian. The Shaman clarified a blood lineage was not required, but that link would certainly make the advice better. She felt Zellara’s Harrow Deck grow hot in her pouch, and she felt a keen eagerness from the spirit. It seemed the fortune teller wanted to be their conduit, and it was decided.

They learned the ritual would take two hours to prepare, and would come to its conclusion as the dawn broke. It was already evening, and the Flowers agreed the knowledge was valuable enough they needed to take part before returning to Kroft. They returned to their yurt to rest before the ritual, so they could leave once it had completed.

*This scene is expanded upon within Character Log “Foolish Pride”

They were woken in the small hours of the morning, and the old Shoanti led them back to the top of the tiered mesa, with many of the villagers following behind to bear witness. All five of the non-winged Flowers formed a circle around a small campfire serving as the Shaman’s focus, and were told to hold hands, becoming an unbroken ring of flesh and bone. He began a rhythmic droning chant, closed his eyes, and musical sounds of rattles and drums drifted up from the surrounding Sklar-Quah.

Two hours passed, until the colours of the sky lightened and the first rays of the sun were visible, at which point the Shaman slumped, and the form of Zellara drifted up from the campfire smoke. Her form was easy to make out, but semi-transparent. She greeted them warmly, smiling, seemingly proud to see how far the group she’d gathered had come. She sang a riddle in a clear haunting voice:

Fate of steel, Serithtial, Her cage for years sustained

Four enthralled in lost Scarwall, undead to keep her chained

A spirit first, red wore his thirst, still stands at post of old

A second foe, infernal soul, waits high in tower cold

In kennels grim, the third bides his time, then vents his killing breath

And on a stone, ‘mid ash and bone, the final dreams of death

The spirits worn and battle torn and locked in their damnation

The chained one’s hold at last grows old and ushers in salvation

Yet hope remains amid the chains when blade’s stone cage has crumbled

Friends to death, and death of the dead, keys to Kazavon humbled

As she finished, a swirl of sparks drifted up from the campfire, and where they passed through her she vanished. A parchment was left behind hanging unnaturally in the air, words of the riddle briefly glowing like the embers below, until it rolled itself in the wind and fluttered to land at the Shaman’s feet. They each felt a surge to their very souls as the spirits of the dead infused them with energy to aid them. They sensed that one of their items each had been altered- Calli and Nightingale’s armor would now protect against even incorporeal attacks, and Byron and Taylan’s claws and Travis’ axe would be able to harm the undead- but only while in Scarwall. In addition they got the uncanny knowledge that should something strike them down as if to kill them, they would be able to resist falling a single time, becoming stunned instead while the spirits protected them.

The Flowers looked around at amazed faces, and the Chief stood to speak. He said they must truly be blessed to have such clear support from beyond, and he was honored to call The Flowers part of his Quah. He assured them the Sun Clan would aid them however they could to rid the world of the evil, and said they had found people among the tribe who had seen some of the locations they needed to visit who were willing to share the memories so that their travels may be swift.

The Shaman recovered, and passed Zellara’s scroll to Calli, who thought back over the legends she knew. The name ‘Serithtial’ struck a chord in her memory, and she informed the others it was the sword Mandraivus had wielded all those years ago. They were going to need to go to Scarwall to retrieve it before facing down the blue dragon.

They were disheartened that there was still so far to go before they’d be able to end Kazavon’s mad reign, but they at least had hope it could be done and knew where to start. First, they’d have to return to their city, and see what plans Cressida had in mind for them. Being able to put an end to the harassment from the Red Mantis Assassins was too tempting to miss. It would no doubt be dangerous, but they would be liars if they tried to say they weren’t looking forward, even a little, to returning home to check on their loved ones.