Gameplay - The Dragon Who Asked Too Much

The next day passes quickly. As you recover your wounds, friends and family of those who fought in the war pester you with questions about the fate of those they loved. Apparently, there were humans involved as well, although from your vantage you saw little of them. Still, each mother and spouse of a combatant feels the need to hear it directly. By the end of the day, you are preparing for another bout of inquiries as the supper hour nears. But you hear something, a whisper of miles, and quietly grabbing your things, move to the upstairs of the inn. There, the best pixie of all is waiting for you. MystWynd!

"Whew, I've been yelling for hours (it feels like). We have to go. Pananthys wants you to go to the tribute cave."

The brass dragon guardian of the valley, takes her payment in art and craft of the village, and these items are left in a special cave not overly far from the village.

You find yourselves, possibly relieved from the sad implorings of the villagers, eager to visit with the huge dragon, and perhaps her wyrmling Zoboanth, as well.

Climbing onto the rear balcony you find an uneasy climb to the ground and the hippogriffs waiting for you. Mounting, they jump quietly into the air and you fly off.

Scarce minutes later, instead of the hours it took to walk, your fierce mounts screech their cries and land outside the cave. You, too, can feel the presence, the undeniable draconic might.

Gingerly stepping inside, you find yourselves in a comfortably warm cave. The Dragon mistress sits at the far end, sitting not unlike a cat, although her head is lowered on its long neck due to the ceiling height.

"Interlopers, you came to my call. For that another thank you is added to the long list of my gratitude. A list that will only grow. Before I impose upon you once more, I will do my best to answer any questions you must have."

Garth bows.

I have no questions, other than how one so might was captured. Is there someone out there with that kind of power.

Hehsh walks hesitantly forward. "I want to know where I came from. I am like you but different. When I first met Zoboanth, it was the first time I saw someone like myself. Later on, I found that I could speak and read a language I never knew I knew. How? Do you know who could have left me in the woods?"

Hasan stays stoic but in awe, keeping his mouth quite he awaits his new task just thankful the town is safe(r) now.

Ruby likewise stays respectively quiet, but anyone looking will notice her pleased-as-peach grin at the visual reminder of their liberation.

The dragon blows out in a huff, flames tickling the edge of her lips. "I was lured into a trap, with that infernal magic netting that rendered me incapable of moving. I do not know who made it, lest I would ensure that they learned a lesson in meddling in the affairs of dragons. I have hidden the net, and woe be to those who go looking."

To Hehsh, she says, "I know much about you, young one. It was with my agreement that you were placed with the druids of Albionii. You have the blood of dragons running through you, as one of your true parents was a Bronze dragon and the other of a mortal race. As to why, this is not my secret to share. For that, you will need to seek out your father, the wyrm Mordenth."

Hehsh's frills flare in shock. "Where is he?"

Panantyss leans her head closer on her long sinewy neck. Her nictating eyelids close once, and she hisses, "I am sssso glad you assssked."

She draws back, sitting even more regally. "My mate, Veringvox, is missing. I suspect the Vermilion Reavers, but cannot be certain. Mordenth feared that he was being hunted, and I have grown to believe that these events are related. Find the wyrm Mordenth and find out what he knows. Then find Veringvox and free him. I promise you rewards worthy of the tasks, but more importantly, you will be greatly bolstering the defenses of these lands. I assure you, the Empress will not be as easily defeated as her warband in the desert was."

She sighs, as if about to do something distasteful. "Agree and I will share what I know."

I have sworn to protect these lands. If helping you does that, then I consider it a win win situation. I am in.

"An Empress? Will there be more war?"

Hehsh nods silently, his gaze intense and unwavering.

Hasan nods, "I will do what I can to protect my town."

Pananthys closes her eyes cat like, seeming grateful.

"Mordenth can be found in the independent city of Blackwater. He maintains an elven persona of da'Norto Illianstar, whose reputation is as colorful as his name. Find Mordenth, and then tell him that he and I met in a thunderstorm under a full moon, and he will assist you as he would me."

There is a clambering outside the cave, and a dwarf stalks in from the night, lither than you would suspect.

OOC: Mountain dwarves consider anything that lives in caves and prevents evil creatures descending into their mines a natural ally. But their bond with metallic dragons goes beyond this. The dwarven debts, accumulated over eons, to these dragons is deeper than any shaft - and dwarves always repay their debts. Like all important debts - they’re written in red. There was never a question of whether the Cloudsea mine would come to Pananthy’s aid, but who they would send on the hippogriff.

Mavis shivers, her hands visibly shaking from the flight induced fear. She wipes the tears, wrung from hours of screwed up eyes, from her cheeks. She starts to speak, babbling, the words tumbling out of her.

"‘ow do. I’m on mi sen, ‘cos we’d nowt but the one flying ‘oss"

Mavis’s brain catches up his her mouth, and reminds her that her thick dwarven ‘cludsi’ accent is hardly an appropriate greeting for the grand dragon.

She tries again, this time with more decorum...
"Ah, Umm.. Cloudsea ‘eard call, O noble Pananthys, and ahm ‘ere to lend hand, as best as can any’ow. Umm.. magnificent one"
...not entirely successfully.

Mavis bows to the dragon so deeply that her back-slung crossbow nearly slides over her head. She rearranges herself and turns to the others bowing (less deeply).

As a Forge Cleric, Garth has a natural respect for dwarves.

Garth bows in return.

Greetings brother. May your forge burn bright.

"I have no idea what she's saying." She whispers to Hehsh.

Ruby returns the bow, figuring it must be a cultural thing. "Hello. I'm Ruby, the flying fist of the coast, and eater of souls, at least that's what they keep telling me."

Heshsh whispers back. "Me neither. It sounds like she has an orcish accent." To Hasan he whispers, "Remember our people skills and don't point your crossbow at her like you did me the first time we met." Aloud he says "My name is-wait. Who calls you the eater of souls? I don't call you that. Hasan do you call her that?"

"The kids do. And a...bard? My memory of the other night is hazy, but I'm pretty sure that's when it started. Why, what do they call you?" Ruby never was one for social etiquette.

Mavis, relieved that introductions are out the way, steps to join the group.

Her flustered, flight-addled mind trying to commit names to memory. Sandra, back at the Cloudsea, told her that when meeting new people one should try and picture their name alongside a representation of them.

So, we have Ruby, eater of souls. Okay, picture a small hard ruby. Red tunic, red ruby.
Did the dragonborn say their name was "Wait"? Or was that an interjection? Probably best wait for introductions. It wouldn't do to call "Wait!" if they were ambushed.
She searches her memory. Did she get other names? Did she give hers?
This isn't working. Oh well, nowt to be done about it now - maybe later when they brew up.

She nods at Garth returning his greeting.
"An' ore allus be pure."
Which is as close to the formally correct "And your ore always be pure" as she'll get until her nerves are under control.

As she reaches the group she quickly confides, "A'reet. Ah'm Mavis", and turns her attention to Pananthys.

OOC: Don't worry. Mavis's accent will soften. I've just decided that one of her character traits is that she lapses into a Yorkshire dialect in times of stress.

Mavis, my name is Garth.