It is morning. The dawn light gathers before the rise of the sun to shine on us. I rise, and look about the camp. There are four of us. The fifth is nowhere to be found, that honorless goatlover Revikh.
My eyes meet Relowan’s. He is an elf, small but nimble. Two swords hang on his hips, one long and one short; his bow is in hand. He loves the bow, but it does not love him as much yet. It is a fickle lover, sometimes it does not sing his song. But I can see he will be its master yet. They call him a ranger, and he is good on the hunt. We nod to each other, no words exchanged. I raise an eyebrow, he shakes his head. He has not seen Revikh either.
I turn my head to the left as I begin my morning stretch, and my eyes rest on Drakha’s sleeping form. She is a dragon priest, and I respect her. A half elf, her skin and hair are gold. She wears the hide of a dragon as her breastplate, but it is not silver, so I am pleased by this.
I look to the right, letting sleep fall away from those muscles in turn. I look at Ivy, bundled up like a child. She is a child. Only 16, and only a few inches over 5 feet. She is a warlock, and will have great power…but she needs wisdom; she is so young. I do not know if I like her. She is feisty, but thinks of Ivy first. But then, we have not traveled together long. These two are not bothersome to me for their magic, ours is a tribe that has known magic long.
It is the riddle that binds us, and it is the riddle that brought us together. We were in Fairhaven only days ago. Seeking, each of us, though seeking different things. Ivy her parents, me a riddle…but all of us have something of crystal upon us.
Then the sky crashed down. A great stone fell from the air, smashing the palace into so much dust. The ground shook, and even my strength could not hold against the heaving. I fell, but was not hurt. To the palace I ran, though I could not tell you why. I simply felt the need, much like when the rage takes me.
I wonder if I should have resisted, as I found myself facing death, five times over. Dragons, black and red and blue, surrounded me and others. There was a great, dark winged man. Another man appeared in magic, and bid us defend ourselves. The dragon attacked, and this magic man fought with us…the dark man disappeared.
It was a difficult fight at best. I saw Drakha spit fire, and felt her magical energy softening the blows I received. I saw Ivy shoot lines of dark magic at the dragons. I saw Relowen shoot arrows into the dragons. But mostly, I saw the maw of the black dragon attempting to devour me.
I raged, and the Beast came to my call. I struck with my morningstar, carved from a tusk. It is also magicked with flame. It is my mightiest weapon, and against the face of the dragon I did strike, with all my strength. I endured its claws, I felt its acid breath take flesh from my arm. Drakha, though I did not yet know her name, healed me, her magics making my arm new. Still, I fought not just a dragon, but the pain of the wounds it gave me. I made it feel my pain, too.
When the dragon was dead, I ripped a tooth from its head for my necklace. I will carry its strength and cunning with me, a foe I have felled. I yelled out to my ancestors, screaming my victory and letting my rage go.
Revikh, the man of magic, bid us to follow. We talked but little, and followed him away from the city into the wilds. That was days ago.
Last night, we were attacked by trolls. We beat the trolls down, burning them with our fire to stop them from regrowing parts. They wore crystal collars, and so they are a new part of the riddle. Something sent them after us.
Revikh was nowhere to be found. The coward left us. I will have words with him, and those words will be short. My fists may speak, or perhaps the Beast.
But for now, that must be put aside. It is time to eat, and to move on.
Picture created by Heromachine