Draconic Blessings

It's a bitterly cold night, the wind comes in gusts and long angry breaths that turn the wise inside. Yet it is remarkably beautiful tonight. The sky is clear and blue. Full of twinkling stars and there's a full moon watching the world. It's light seems almost drawn through the trees of the wilderness. Drawn to a clearing near a thick and bubbling stream that has managed as of yet, to stay clear enough though the edges are perhaps a touch frozen. There's a light dusting of snow on the ground. It doesn't seem likely that its going anywhere soon.

The peace of the evening is such that sound carries easily and far this night, and the light of the moon pouring through the trees is enough to draw anyone's attention to this distant clearing.

To make the clearing even more interesting, there's a seemingly opaque sphere in the middle of it, hanging over the stream on both sides, such that the stream - appears to run through the middle of it? From within the blue-silver-gold swirling magic of the sphere, the sound of - fish? drifts outward, along with the quiet crackling of a campfire, although no light emerges from the opaque sphere.

There is a figure slowly moving through the trials. Large, massive, lumbering with a polearm in hand, it's axehead glinting off the moonlight. It's a tarnished scale makari man. Armor softly clanks through the night air, their gait not hurried in the slightest.

Skielstregar was patrolling the trails outside Mictlan. Making sure there wasn't any lost souls in the woods in the frigid night. He comes to the clearing, dead silver gaze sweeping over it before it settles on the sphere, his large head tilting to the side.

GAME: Seldan rolls survival: (16)+25: 41

Munch is naked, despite the cold. To be fair, he's also a golem, so that's not unusual. The metal man also carriers a large axe, held between his wings upon his back. Approaching from deeper in the woods, the metalman is far from silent, but is neither the riot of noise he might be. Pausing at the edge of the clearing, Munch takes a few moments to observe and access, not fully clear what's going on here.

A shadowy figure on a pale horse appears on the trail behind Skielstregar. Tall, they have tattered clothes, and a long weapon resting on one shoulder. At first glance, it seems to be a scythe, gripped by a skeletal hand.

A second, more detailed stare would show it to be an umbrella. The hand is fleshed, but covered by a skeletal tattoo that gleams in the moonlight. The hood, for the figure has one, conceals a face that is a skull, also reflecting Eluna's light.

It, she, as her silhouette reveals, hunts lost souls too. The umbrella, the parasol, or perhaps paralume, is clicked open. Quietly they come up behind the sith'makar, and wait beside the stream.

Clear and cold. While not the most hospitable combination, it remains preferable to blizzard and frigid. Verna is hardly a common sight outside of the city, yet she has taken to expanding her activities beyond the norm; expanding her boundaries, one might attest. She does not wander, per se, and instead floats along in the large iron cauldron that serves as her conveyance, It provides some shelter from the wind, with her layers of robes and cloak shielding the rest.

Vaera was patrolling with Skielstregar, but not nearly as efficiently, with a large coat and larger, fur lined cloak that obscures all but a red snout poking out of the front. "I am surprised you felt it necessary to look around at this hour, Skielstregar." She states, before she turns, and sees a strange figure behind her. "Perhaps not unfounded. Hail, traveler, and good afternoon to you."

Though her attention turns afterwards to a flying cauldron, which she watches curiously for some time.

GAME: Ashes rolls spellcraft: (8)+12: 20

The invisible sphere is suddenly lit upon by a strange golden bird. No. Not a bird. A tiny golden dragon? She lands neatly atop the sphere and sniffs around on top of it. Seeming to try and figure out a way inside the sphere. She launches herself skyward again and then circles the sphere. "Hellopeoples!" She calls (seemingly to the sphere), and then notices the other people who've gathered on the edge of the clearing. Hovering mid-air she blinks her golden eyes a few times and wings a bit closer. "Morepeoples!"

Skielstregar looks to Vaera, "Ssssometimes folk become lossst in the foressst, and it isss important to make sure they are safe."

Though, he turns, and flinches heavily from the sudden appearance of a newcomer. He steps in front of Vaera for a moment, as if he was going to protect them, but he gives a light sigh as it seemed things were fine. "... peace on your nessst."

The makari turns, and, yet again, he's surprised. A... dragon?! He stands up straight, gulping a bit. "... h... hello."

Munch buzzes quietly. Of all the things he expected, a dragon wasn't even on the list, certainly not a tiny gold one. Stepping forward, the golem reaches up, grabbing one of his leathery dreadlocks and crushing it in his grip. After a moment, the material starts to glow with a blue chemical light, shedding a glow around the golem. "Greetings. Everything alright over here? I'd heard reports of undead in the woods."

GAME: Munch casts Light. Caster Level: 7 DC: 12

"Hello." The grey, skeleton-seeming individual says. Using one word to greet a multitude. Her voice is monotone and paced. There's an unsettling aura as she draws close, a quietude, like a grave. "That's a Tiny Hut."

She points.

Her finger raises from the sphere, to the dragon. She doesn't identify it as a dragon. That's obvious.

"I don't have a nest. I sleep in a coffin." A practice she has been asked not to do. The temple has spares and they are comfortable. Pointing at the dragon changes to waving at the dragon. Thus, Ashes greets her a second time.

Oh, an important note, "I'm not dead."

From within the sphere, there is a call back, Seldan's light male voice familiar to at least some here. "Tanithariairisixchel, Her light upon your path. Come, the sphere shall not harm you, and it is warmer within." A pause from within, and the voice adds, "Be welcome as well. The sphere is but a simple enchantment to break the wind. It cannot stop you."

It is the faintly glowing sphere that first draws Verna's attention. It may have drawn others, as well, when she notes said others in the vicinity. Most all are familiar, or at least known to her in some fashion. "Peace on your nests," she offers to the makari in their native tongue, followed by a greeting to, "Mourner Ashlee."

She may intend to say more, or inquire of the Tiny shelter, when there is the gold sparkle in the moonlight and the dragonette lands in the vicinity. Her suspicions (how many miniscule golden dragons are about?) when it speaks. "Tanithariairisixchel," she calls, "good eve to you."

"You are not a vampire, are you?" Vaera asks curiously, stepping off to the side as Skielstregar moved in front of her with a puff of air. "Ah, I doubt it, you do not smell like one. Do you need a bed made? I have a bit of experience making them."

But her attention is taken further by the dragon around on the orb. "Ah! Peace on your nest little dragon. Is this your doing? What brings you out here? The forests can be dangerous if you are not careful."

Verna's response catches her off guard, and she nods. "Good to meet you, Verna. I believe I have heard of you a few times."

Skielstregar's gaze moves from person to person, him holding his halberd a bit closer to himself, especially after Munch's declaration of hearing about undead. "... thisss one hasss found no sssuch creaturesss here," he reports, pulling up his hood and covering his head with it. Must be cold.

A wave is afford to Verna and the others as the come in via various methods, him unsettled somewhat. "... there isss... never thisss many people in the woods...," he murmurs to Vaera, though his attention is solely on the dragon. Despite the invitation to come forth, he's a bit rooted in his spot. A tinge overwhelmed.

Tanithariairisixchel, as she is dubbed by the voice in the sphere, inches closer to Skielstregar. Blinking at him. "Hellopeoples!" She seems very pleased to see him, and then she darts over to Vaera, quicker than a bolt of golden lightning. "Peoplesdo! Iamhereforfish! Peoplefish! Come!" She wafts toward the sphere hovering mid-air to encourage everyone to follow her and then hesitates right over the orb before darting inside quite suddenly. "Itssafe!" She calls from inside.

Munch blinks with a metallic click, turning his focus to Ashes. "I don't sleep. I wait." Are we sharing now? It sounded like we're sharing now. Assured by Seldan's voice, the metal man strides to the sphere, be hesitates before sticking his head inside, withdrawing again to peer at the dragon. "Name's Munch. I've heard of you, but don't think we've met, Tanitharisal... Tanisar... Little Golden One."

A quiet, low chuckle from within the sphere, and those who poke their heads in will find that it is much warmer inside the sphere, the warmth of a spring day suffusing the inside. The wind is not felt inside, and from within, the sphere itself is transparent. A campfire crackles merrily inside, carefully placed clear of any vegetation, and a man sits at the stream's edge with a fishing pole, a bucket of fish just about full next to him.

The man himself is a ginger-blonde, in full plate armor that glows gently in Eluna's light, with a blue open-front robe trimmed in silver over the armor. Over all is a pair of cloaks, the top one warm and sturdy wool and a finer fabric beneath. A small, beaten brown leather knapsack lies nearby, and within reach is a rather antique and out-of-date-looking sword in a sheath.

"No." Mourner Ashlee answers. That seems to cover all the questions. A specific greeting is returned, "Mourner Verna."

She nudges her horse forward, it moves with precision and grace with an unsettling lack of vitality. As it's on the verge of crowding, she halts it, leans forward and whispers in the horse's ear.

The horse vanishes, she's left standing and holding a fist-sized obsidian figurine. She slips it into the satchel. "My horse was drawn here."

Explanation given, she steps around the sith'makar. There was an invitation to fish; she knows how to do that. "Ok." She steps into the sphere, "Hello Silverguard."

Skielstergar's stance straightens up as the little dragon swoops towards him, happy and pleased. There's a quick nod, and he follows after. A dragon said it was fine, a metallic one at that. "Very well," he bows his head, stepping forward and peering in.

What peers in very well would be a half-undead makari, based on how his scales fought each other and the lack of life in his eyes. Though, the symbol of the Dragonfather softly clanks against his breastplate.

All he could say was, "... huh."

Verna's hood dips to Vaera at the acknowledgement and recognition. She then recognizes the chuckle from the Hut, though briefly peeks within the wind-break to confirm. "Good eve, Silverguard. We will require far, far more fish." Not that she expects he is unaware of that fact, but others should be made aware.

The tiny golden dragon perches immediately on the edge of the bucket and begins to eat heartily at the fish that have already been captured by the silverguard. "Goodpeoples!" She exclaims happily, perking when she notices that others are encroaching on the circle. "Comein!"

"You are here for fish? There are usually plenty in the rivers here, but I do not know if swimming directly in them right now is a good idea. I did not bring a fishing rod with me for that." Vaera chuffs, before she looks to Skielstregar. "Perhaps one resistant to the cold could swim directly to catch fish however."

She shrugs to the strange Arvek nar. So be it. She pokes her head into the sphere, and chuffs at the warmth, before stepping back out. "Lot of people here for some reason. That is odd."

Munch enters the sphere and takes a seat at the very edge, wings brushing the magical barrier. "Odd, but happens sometimes. Woods are big, lots of stuff in them, even at night. Sometimes that stuff all happens to meet up at the same place."

"Even so, Mourners, and Her light upon your paths." Seldan barely turns around, having thrown another line while others poke their heads in. "Please, be welcome." The invitation is cordial and polite, but somewhat reserved. "It is not a small debt that I pay in fish."

His line jerks, and he wrestles with it a minute, but with a firm hand jerks it back and pulls from the water with quick motions another fish. This, he grasps with both gloved hands, adds it to the bucket under Tanith's nose, and lays the rod down. Finally, he gets to his feet and turns towards the sith-makar, studying him for a moment, then catching sight of something and bowing politely. "It was not my intention to disturb these woods. I can depart."

"It could well be coincidence," Verna offers possibilities on the unexpected convergence, "and Tanithariairisixchel's arrival is due to said convergence. However, it may be equally likely that Tanithariairisixchel orchestrated the convergence in some manner. Whatever the cause, I consider it a tiding of boon."

Ashlee stands rigidly inside the hut, arms at her side. Her gaze moves from Seldan to Tanithariairisixchel, it lingers on the tiny gold dragon. There's a fluttering of her clothes, a large house centipede emerges and crawls up her face to sit on top of her head. A white lizard appears, clinging to her collar. There's a mouse, that tucks into her hair behind one large, goblinoid ear and peers out. She's like a fabled princess with a small menagerie of forest creatures which in her case happen to be vermin.

"Thanks for defeating the demon." She tells Seldan, and Tanithariairisixchel, then takes a fishing rod out of her weathered satchel. She slowly screws it together. "Do you have bait?"

Skielstregar settles his gaze on the Silverguard, him clearing his throat and shaking his head. "No, you have not disssturbed the foressst, thisss one was mearly patrolling jussst in cassse sssomeone wasss lost."

Despite him looking like death claimed him, his was hale of mind.

He glances to Vaera, then chuckles in a rumble. "Thisss one could, if it wassss desired."

Tanith looks at the new fish with appreciation, nay - glee - that she's been offered yet another of the thing that she loves. Seeing Seldan put down his fishing rod however she tilts her head and looks bemonefully at the paladin until Skielstregar sets him to rights and better yet! "Yes! Fish! Allpeoplesfish!" She looks at everyone eagerly.

She REALLY, and obviously, loves fish.

Munch considers. "I don't think the steam holds too many fish. Even with everyone fishing, only a few to be caught, if the haven't already been. But, I'm willing to give it a try and be proven wrong."

Seldan nods slowly at the permission to remain, although the mournful look from the dragon is _most_ distracting. "Perhaps the fish drew her here," he offers.

Ashlee's remark, though, grabs his attention, and he inclines his head. "That is why I fish," he explains. "That would not have been possible without her." His gaze goes to the tiny dragon. "She was instrumental."

He lets out a small sigh, and picks up the rod again, nodding to the covered tin of worms stashed in the slushy ice by the bank. "They are less active when cold, and easier to bait the hook."

"Ah, that was in the news. Thank you for doing that." Vaera nods when she pokes back into the orb and sits down. "You brought a young dragon in to fight a elder fiend? I do not know whether to be impressed you were successful, or angry that you put them in danger like that. Perhaps both."

"The stream holds many fish still, but they are slow from the cold. It is much easier to catch while swimming, if you can stand the temperature like Skielstregar can. I think he could do so, if he would wish. Perhaps even honored to do so."

Ashlee takes a second thing from her satchel. It's a thanatopticon, an artifice device for examining bodies. She points it at Skielstregar and pushes a button. Some lights flash, it clicks. She examines the readout, "Hm."

She puts it away, nods at Seldan's words, "Cesran told me." The tiny hut is becoming crowded, she moves to make more room. Her animals scurry around on her so they can keep looking at Tanith. She digs around in her satchel some more, there is a box of bait. The mealworms are dead, dried out. Still good.

She baits the hook, then casts. "Tanith isn't a young dragon."

"Indeed," Verna concurs with Seldan's comment, "and she is most deserving of all the fist she can eat." Which, as she has come to witness, is a great deal; to the degree that 'all' or 'yes' might be an appropriate measure of quantity. Ashlee's comment draws a turns and dip of hood. "I suspect that she is far older and may be far more than she appears."

Skielstregar looks to all, him bobbing his head once and giving a light sigh. "Very well, thiss one doesn't mind getting in the watersss down sssstream," he hums, putting his polearm away and pulling free a spear from the large quiver on his back. Spear fishing time!

Though, Ashlee's device garners a strange look from the tarnished bronzescale. He tilts his head to the side, but shrugs as he goes down stream a smidge to not disturb any fishing lines.

Munch buzzes quietly. "I'd heard the demon was dead, but not how it happened. Mildly sorry I missed out on the fight."

The small dragon has it seems already managed to finish the fish in the bucket. No longer thusly distracted she pays more attention to the conversation, blinking her golden eyes at the various individuals as they discuss things with one another. One of those things being her. "Iamnotababy." She interjects at the appropriate juncture, confirming what others are saying about her apparent age. Though... 'not a baby' is a pretty broad range in draconic terms. She wiggles on the bucket, eagerly eyeing Skielstregar as he makes his way downstream slightly.

Those fishing the stream will find it almost overly populated with fish. It is... not difficult to catch one.

A ghost of a smile plays around the edges of Seldan's lips at Vaera's remark, and he holds up his rod to others, offering to any that may take. "I can also tolerate the cold. Another may use my rod, do they wish." A strange statement, that, for an apparently fair human.

"The fight was not carried with weapons, but with wills," he explains. "Tanitharia invited herself. I know not how she knew, but she may have been attracted by the backlash when I disjoined the soul trap he had laid for me. She is far more powerful than she appears to be, and brings herself where she wills, when she wills. Do not doubt that she can hold her own. Still is she most welcome, and I am deeply grateful for her aid."

As he speaks, he is removing the moonlit armor, piece by piece, and laying it aside.

Ashlee startles then stares as Seldan removes his armour. She's overwhelmed with thoughts, questions. Is everyone going to have to do that? Is he planning to go for a swim? How much armour is he going to remove? What happens when he stops?

She has never been to this sort of a gathering, around a pool under the moonlight, where people suddenly get naked.

He hasn't yet, she reminds herself. Don't look at the human, she chides herself. Do not touch his rod... that's a social faux pas and trap if she ever saw one... and she doesn't see many.

Flick. She casts. Her hook flies into the water. Yank! A fish! Flick! Plop. Yank. Fish! Flick, yank, fish! Flick yank fish! No wonder Merek likes fishing.

Skielstregar is a simple man. Protect the People, don't eat them, and make sure everyone has enough. Such tales and talk of soul battling and rods being offered makes him cough into a fist, rub his neck, and gets to spearing the overabundance of fish.

Munch blinks slowly. "Wills? How does that work? So, you stared at each other until his brain popped and he died?" He makes no move towards the water. Not that he has any concerns with the cold, but is well aware if anything can scare away all the fish, it's him.

"Ihelped!" The tiny golden dragon exclaims proudly, then begins to quietly stalk after Skielstregar. Slowly. Patiently. Humming softly a song to herself. It's more than loud enough to be heard by everyone. She sneaks closer. Then! She pounces on one of the fish he's caught and the race is on! She has _two_ piles of fish to eat from and she is thrilled to be so richly fed. She does stop during a lull in the fish-race to look at Seldan with a slightly tilted head and flicks her tail twice at him. "Youcalledforhelp! Icame!"

GAME: Seldan rolls intelligence: (12)+4: 16

In truth, Seldan is nowhere near being indecent, for there is a layer of padding and underclothing under the armor pieces. This takes him some minutes to do, given the sheer number of pieces that need to be removed. "The fish are plentiful," he observes, "but I have but the one rod, which shall not keep up with her."

His eyes lower, and move towards the water. "Eclavdran desires to tear my soul from me. I do not think there are many he hated more than me, for I defied him and lived to speak of it. I - was prepared for it, and knew him vulnerable in that moment that he attempted to pull it from me. I pulled back, and with the support of others ... was able to take his soul, and destroy it, cast it into the Void." The price for such an act need not be discussed in this company.

When Tanith chatters at him, he looks up, although his brow furrows in confusion. "So you did, and so am I forever grateful. But - I would ask a thing of you. The orbs - what of them?"

Ashlee concentrates on her fishing. Do not make eye contact. Do not make side glances to see what the silver-guard is up to. Averting her eyes in the Grey Halls wasn't this difficult. She might have been in shock then. That the afterlife has hot springs is a world-view altering revelation. She'd best not share it.

She continues to pull fish from the stream. They are almost leaping into her pile on their own. Almost. "Thanks Tanith," she gestures towards her small collection. She remains silent, listening to the story again. Another rendition, more details, a different perspective. She notes it.

The orbs, Cesran mentioned orbs, she's curious about this.

Skielstregar, so focused on his task, flinches as a small gold dragon inhales what he's gathered thus far. He tries to redouble his efforts, but falters as he hears more of the story.

He sort of dumbly stands there, staring, as a speared fish flops on the end of his weapon. Which is promptly removed and tossed to Tanith. "... Dragonfather's scalesss.." he murmurs, shaking his head and shuddering.

Munch doesn't really get it, but accepts the description of the battle. Considering a long moment, the golem carefully rises and moves towards the stream, angling upstream away from most of the others, drawing his massive greataxe as he goes.

Tanith hums in a comforting way at Skielstregar. She's a small dragon, and she shows off her tail in all of its glittery, luxurious glory to him. She appreciates his efforts, and him flinching is not a desired outcome. She's almost distracted enough by showing off her many virtues to him while she eats his newest catch that she - almost - misses Seldan's question. But she doesn't thankfully. "Itook. Otherpeoplesneed. Younotneed." She tilts her head at Seldan as if she might have possibly have been given the wrong information. "Youneed?"

Smiling quietly, a small thing really, Seldan shakes his head. He has paused in his efforts to divest himself of his armor, but has made no move towards the rest of his clothing. "Nay. Others have greater need than I, and if in freeing them from Eclavdran's magic, I may serve that need, then well am I pleased. I merely wished to know what became of them. I ... remember nothing, once I felt his soul disperse into nothingness," he admits in a low tone.

He then sets about removing the rest of the armor, without further comment.

"I don't need." Ashlee confirms, needlessly. A Mourner is unlikely to require an artifact of Eluna. Should the tiny dragon be hiding something sacred to the Feiu of the Tears, well... it would still be improper to ask.

She adjusts her shirt, tugging at a snag and sending her lizard scurrying. He seems to be freaking out. She grabs Carbuncle, then clips him to her unoccupied ear. In his panic he holds on tight. She has an earring now.

Cast, cast. Fish, fish. Wiggle her ears and listen. She lurks and fishes.

Skielstregar gives a light sigh as Tanith tries to calm him. He kneels down to the dragon (a dragon! He couldn't believe it still!) and offers more fish. "Thisss one wishesss their scalesss were asss shiny asss yourss," he politely compliments. He feels a bit odd here, not really one to venture into the city, nor interact with greater society in these woods, the half undead makari was mostly focused on serving the dragon as much fish as he could possibly muster.

Tanith looks at Skielstregar very seriously, his words perhaps having more meaning to her than he intends them to. There's something utterly compelling in her golden gaze. Something wise beyond the years that such a small dragonling should be able to have. She holds his gaze for several long seconds, considering something very important. "Okay!" She blinks and the spell seems broken. "Verygoodpeoplesdeservenicethings." She wiggles her tail at Skeilstregar and then carefully launches herself up high enough to boop him on the snoot with her own.

Once in the air she stays, winging around the group of people in the moonlight. It's hard to keep an eye on her with her scales so bright, and the moonlight shining down. So much so that you realize that you've lost her... And she's gone. Vanished into the night as mysteriously as she'd come.

Vaera was quiet for some time after trying to parse the mystery of what exactly the dragon in question that some time passed before she spoke again after entering the sphere. "So be it." She sighs, her attention being sorted finally, to see everyone else fishing the area, and most of the fish disappearing in the process.

"This is all out of the realm of what I know. But fish I can do normally, but, not now it seems. I did not prepare for fishing."

And there she goes. Seldan looks at his pile of armor more than a little sheepishly, and his eyes lower. "It is as I have said," he murmurs, eyes on the ground, and cheeks just a little pink. "It seems that there is no need for me to dive into the stream, after all. " A long, slow, deep breath is exhaled.

"I would ask your forgiveness, do I overwhelm you with details," he apologizes to Vaera, and the gradual uncoiling of his reserve abruptly snaps back.

Skielstregar looks at Tanith, his dead silver gaze unblinking. Unbroken. Lost in that brilliant golden look. This was a dragon. A powerful, wise, revered being.

He blinks. His snoot is booped. The simple man is bewildered as his head lulls back to follow her up, up, up to the sky!

"... good... bye, goldscale," he whispers in a rumble as he watches where she went. A hand goes to his Dragonfather amulet, and he carefully holds it up in silence.

All his fish is gone.

Ashlee watches, staring as Tanith flies up into the sky and vanishes. She looks at the spot a moment longer, whispering a quiet prayer, "Feiu of the tears, let me see magic."

Her eyes glow, but nothing more is revealed.

"Bye." She remembers to say that.

Her fish are gone also. She glances where the pile was, looks over to Munch, spearing them with a dragon-trident. Her head turns back to Seldan. She stares, "So we're not going swimming."

As long as it's settled. Too many people were getting in the stream. She was becoming concerned.

-End