Enemies a Plenty

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Rhaegos
Posts: 22
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2018 4:36 pm
Guild: Monks

Enemies a Plenty

Post by Rhaegos »

Walking towards Tranos, his wings folding behind him. Lost in thought pondering the questions set to him by Hero Brimbur; A goblin runs out of the shadows trying to grab at my coin purse as I give it a frustrated shove down onto the ground and continue my walk, my tail whipping the goblin as it tries to stand up again.

Striding past the gate guards at the Southern gate of Tranos the guard waves “Hello!” I barely give him a glance. “I know I did the right thing, I just never expected such a harsh response from her. I truly believe she would have attacked him. But as Brimbur asked how does The Way allot for one’s past?” one of the merchants in Tranos square looks oddly at the Dragonkin who’s talking to himself as he heads East further into Tranos.

Heading into the Butchered Rabbit Inn again, in hopes of bringing The Way to people who might not otherwise have a chance to learn about it, Rhaegos sits at a table. The barmaid comes up “The usual sweet thing?” <nod> “Not much of a talker tonight eh? Usually you are so chatty it’s cute.” she smiles, shakes her hip towards him without much of a response she walks off to fill his order. A few of the ruffians in the bar nudge each other looking over at the large carmine Dragonkin, looking for a scrap. Deep in the shadows, several sets of eyes are on Rhaegos.

The barmaid comes back with Rhaegos’s drink, “‘Ere ya go love, you sure you don’t want ta take a girl out for a night on the town? Might be better than whatcha get ‘ere?” He shakes his head no, meeting her eyes, he notices they look overly worried. Which is odd, this women sees all manner of things inside The Butchered Rabbit Inn.

Finally taking a moment to look around I see much of the same that I usually see here. People who have lost their path along The Way. People who might benefit from having someone help them along The Way. I also feel...something. There is a dark, powerful presence here. Casually looking around, I check to see if I can find the source of that tickling feeling.

A fight breaks out at the bar, two drunkards shoving and pushing, causing one of the Warlocks in the room to get involved, the cook comes out from the kitchen to try and break up the fight, I sigh, stand and enter the fray. Dark shapes come down out of the rafters, from upstairs and from the cellar, all unnoticed.

Deftly maneuvering the two drunkards, the fight is quickly brought under control with the assistance of the cook. Though he is none too happy about being disturbed, yet again. As I go to turn around, a net is dropped on me from above. Bringing my sword staff to bear I frantically start trying to cut my way free. Looking around, the bar is empty save for a score of darkly hooded people. The entire bar is empty. <<DAMN, I don’t have any of my protections on>> “WHO ARE YOU?” I roar. In a barely audible whisper “You would like to know that would you not? Take him to our Mistress”. More nets are thrown over as the Dragonkin finished cutting his way out of the first one. Several fists and feet and clubs start beating mercilessly on the Dragonkin. A Roar fills the bar that shakes the very rafters as he is brought down “Move quickly, his noise will bring the Town Guards”.

Finally beaten into unconsciousness the Dragonkin is hoisted up by several of the small humanoids, leaving behind only his Sword Staff as evidence of the encounter. The bar is silent
Rhaegos -
Brother of The Monks Guild,
Follower of The Way
Seeker of Balance and Harmony
Guild Officer
Rhaegos
Posts: 22
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2018 4:36 pm
Guild: Monks

Re: Enemies a Plenty

Post by Rhaegos »

::time passes::

My nose twitches, the foulness of this place waking me up from unconsciousness. Dark shapes loom all around me, one hand pressing my head painfully into the cement as a body is leaned over me. Coming to my senses I realize there are several bodies pressing their faces into my skin, I feel weak…

::time passes::

I wake again, this time strapped to a chair, that smell is awful. A globe floating in front of my face, room spinning it feels as though there are trails of dried blood all over me. “He’s awake again, drain him more”.

::time passes::

“Leave him broken, at her door. That will show her” says a woman's voice. “My pleasure Mistress”. Walking past the Dragonkin, who is barely able to lift his head “I’ll break this one, you five can figure out who breaks the other one”. Grabbing his wing in her ice cold hands, she braces herself against his arm as she pulls, breaking the bone that runs from his shoulder to his wing. A loud snap as I cry out in pain, and then all is dark again.


::time passes::


In the pre-dawn hours a horse drawn cart rumbles down the road in Devardec, not much unlike the other carts that have been coming and going in preparation for the Faire. The cart stops briefly outside the Monks Guild as two small figures from the back push a large object out of the cart with a loud thud it lands on the ground. One carmine colored hand can be seen flopping out of the wrapped bundle. Blood pooling where his hand lay.
Rhaegos -
Brother of The Monks Guild,
Follower of The Way
Seeker of Balance and Harmony
Guild Officer
Avyra
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Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2014 2:10 pm

Re: Enemies a Plenty

Post by Avyra »

Avyra watched them haul off the unfortunate victim, stormy eyes alight with curiosity. This attack by the Countess seemed rather strange. The woman was washing her hands nearby, seemingly calm outwardly, but even Avy could see the simmering frustration under the surface. “Why?” the battlemage asked softly, tilting her head to one side.

The Countess tossed the hand towel to one side, turning to face Avyra with a snarl. “You’ve all failed, that’s why. First, they survive the attack in the mountains, and I spend days nursing my children back to health. Then, you flat out refuse to attack, forcing me to choose other paths. Lastly, the barbarian fails, and has now discarded the dagger. Clearly,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “I have to do things myself.”

The battlemage considered the irritated vampire before her. True, the dragonkin had been ridiculously lucky, but in reality, the Countess was targeting a Guildmaster. Such attempts had a high likelihood of failing. “And what of the others?”

Adria snorted, turning away from Avyra. “The Ranger lost his blade, so he is useless to me. You won’t go after the battlemage, so I have no way to get to him. Going after this… monk,” she sneered the word, “is the only way to achieve my goals.”

Avyra considered that a moment, following the logic, and deciding to ignore the fact that the "Battlemage" had since become another Ranger. “Are you sure that will work? Hasn’t she discarded the blade as well? So, in truth, the only one left connected is Felton?”

Adria crossed the room with lightning speed, baring her fangs in Avyra’s face, crimson eyes alight with fury. “She defies me. She will die.” The Countess considered the Battlemage a moment, the feral stink of Avyra filling her nose. “Silence yourself, lest you join her.”

Avyra merely met the Countess’ gaze levely, unafraid of the other vampire. They both had similar power; if they pitted their strength against each other, it was guaranteed to be a bloody battle. After a moment, the Countess turned away, returning to the softly glowing bowl in her chamber.

Avyra considered, then turned and headed to leave, leaving the Countess to her musings. This was all becoming dreadfully dull, really. Almost predictable. The initial Chaos she had tasted was waning, and the Battlemage grew bored of the Countess’ idiotic obsession. However, there was the case of the Battlemage turned Ranger, Felton.

Ascending the stairs, a slow smile spread across her face. She was sure he would be interested in knowing what was going on, and well, watching the Countess squirm when her former guildmember was out of reach… now that would be entertaining.

Chuckling softly to herself, Avyra slipped out into the night, headed towards the mountains. She was sure this meeting would be very intriguing.
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fearecia
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Re: Enemies a Plenty

Post by fearecia »

It had been several days since she and Alioik had squared off; several days of contemplation. They’d both agreed to set the weapons aside, to lock them away from themselves until later. Fearecia, however, found the blade constantly occupying her thoughts, her hands itching to hold it again. At the same time, the longer she stayed away from it, the less she struggled with the wild draconic blood of her heritage, and the more herself she felt. Idly considering it all, she stared out the window of her office, watching the sunlight slowly crawl across the city with the dawn.

Cries of shock and alarm went up through the guild, echoing through the halls and her heart. Responding without a thought, she dashed over to the wall where her weapons hung, automatically reaching for the empty spot where the blade had been hanging. Scowling as she grasped for empty air, she forcefully corrected herself, grabbing the katana instead. Then she was bolting down the stairs, casting spells as she went, prepared to meet whatever threat stalked the guild.

There was no preparing for the sight in the meeting room that greeted her. Rukath was bent over a large, draconic frame, the once vibrant red scales washed pale. Blood covered those scales; some old and dried, some fresh and oozing. Horror of horrors, his wings were twisted at odd angles, bones poking through the flesh. Other parts of him were twisted, broken out of true. He was still, so terribly still.

Gods. Rhae.

For one brief second, terror seized her heart and her vision blurred, a silver ghost chasing itself across her memories. Then he breathed.

Thank the gods. He’s not dead.

She bolted to his side, kneeling down beside Rukath as the brother stared at her. Other Monks, drawn by the commotion, were showing up, weapons in their hands and ready for battle, only to stare in shock at the sight before them. Fearecia set her katana aside, starting to shout orders even as she took the nearest wing in her hands.

“Get me splints and bandages, now! Also, warm water and towels!” The lack of the sound of movement caused her to pause, looking up at the gathered crowd. “Move it already!” she snarled, shocking fellow Monks into motion. Novices darted off, headed to the various sections of the guild to gather the required items. “You two!” she snapped, freeing one hand to gesture at a pair who had yet to move. “I want one of you to hold his head up. Keep him breathing. The other at his feet. This is going to hurt. Try to keep him from kicking.” The legs, at least, didn’t appear to be broken. She couldn’t say as much about the hands. She just really hoped he was unconscious enough to not feel most of this.

Positioning her hands once more, Fear absently wished she could call Baxter for help. That dark elf could work miracles with wings… but he was beyond her reach. Her own skills would have to do. “Gods, let me do this right,” she whispered to herself before looking up at Rukath. “You got a regeneration spell ready?” The brother nodded, the soft white glow forming around his hands. Fear took a deep breath… and flexed.

The bones crunched back together with an awful, wet sound, causing several returning novices to shudder at the noise. One even ran back out of the room holding his mouth. “Let me check it first, Rukath,” she said softly, cradling the wing carefully as her fingers explored the landscape of flesh. There were some fragments, but the main bone appeared to be straight. She nodded to Rukath, and he targeted the spell, letting the tissues knit themselves together. Fear accepted a washcloth from a novice, cleaning the wound and flesh after it knit back together. Carefully, she folded the wing back against his side. She’d have to bandage it to his back after the other one was set. “Don’t touch the wing. It’s still fragile,” she said, moving carefully to the other side of Rhaegos.

The next hour passed in painstaking care, setting bones, closing wounds, and cleaning scales. Frustratingly enough, some of the wounds seemed infected. She had some novices fetch some shale paste, and packed the wounds with the herb after they were cleaned. Hopefully that would help draw out and cure the infection. With Rhaegos’ condition, she didn’t dare use her flame to purge the infection; it would be too easy to send his body into shock. Finally, he was clean, wings set and bandaged into immobility against his back, and arms bandaged against his chest.

She sat back, studying their handiwork one last time. Everything seemed to be in order, but worry nagged at her, along with echoes of old memories and guilt. Rukath set a hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Take him upstairs and let him rest. He’ll pull through alright, Fear.”

The ebon kin nodded and shifted, carefully lifting Rhae in her arms, mildly thankful that he was almost small compared to her. It made ascending the stairs to the dormitory much, much easier. With a dozen pillows and blankets stolen from other cots, she finally placed Rhae carefully in a cushioned nest, fussing that he was protected until she was finally satisfied. Sighing, she sat down next to the cot, determined to hold vigil at his side until he awoke.

Slowly, a fury started to build in her. Once she found out who hurt him, their life would be forfeit.
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fearecia
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Re: Enemies a Plenty

Post by fearecia »

It had been some time since she’d spoken to Rhaegos about his abduction and attack; too long, in fact. He’d left, healed, and come back to the guild, still leery of vampires (and for good reason), but relatively whole, near as she could tell. She’d gotten tangled in guild matters; redoing the awards process again, running elections, and managing a variety of small changes. Still though, like an itch that couldn’t be scratched, the blade weighed on her mind, constantly reminding her of the unfinished business that lurked in the shadows. Which was how she found herself here, sitting in front of the Captain of the Port Guard, trying to garner information.

“I don’t know what you expect me to tell you, Fear. There’s been nothing strange going on here. No attacks, nothing. Adventurers come through all the time, sure, but we don’t keep tabs on them.”

“And there’s been no reports of increased vampire activity in the area? Not even from the manor?”

He snorted. “Everyone in Gallowhaven knows to avoid that place. Only those adventuring types are fool enough to venture in there, and often times, they don’t come back out. Least, not through the door, anyway.”

The ebon dragonkin sighed and nodded, running a hand through her mane as she considered it. It seemed that the increased activity she, Rhaegos, and Alioik had all experienced some time back had been isolated to just them. Which was possibly even more confusing. What did the vampires want with all of them? She nodded, getting up from her seated position on the floor. “Thanks for taking the time to meet with me, Captain. I appreciate it.”

He nodded and waved her aside, going back to his work. He’d only entertained her request for a meeting because of her previous history serving in the guard, and how beneficial it had been. He’d of course tried to lure her back again, primarily with a promise of increased earnings, but she’d declined. She had responsibilities to her guild now, and she couldn’t be sidetracked working in Gallowhaven.

Fearecia ducked out of the office, making sure not to hit her head on the door frame. It seemed that if she wanted to get to the bottom of all this nonsense, she was going to have to go straight to the source. She just hoped it didn’t involve trips to Naria.
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fearecia
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Re: Enemies a Plenty

Post by fearecia »

The manor was just as she remembered it: dark and dusty, with a heavy air of death circling around like a predator. Creeping down the stairs in the shadows, the dragonkin twirled her throwing blades in her hands. She’d faced off with the vampiress in this basement before, but then, it’d simply been to test her skills and conquer. The Countess was a formidable opponent, especially for a single challenger. Still, that had been then; now, she didn’t want to kill the Countess. No, her intent was to best the woman, but keep her alive for questioning. It was a dangerous game to play with such an opponent, especially alone, but she had little choice. There was no way she was going to drag Rhaegos down into this mess, and Alioik hadn’t responded to any of the messages she’d sent to the Barbarian’s Guild. So, here she was, alone, attempting possibly one of her more idiotic ideas.

Slipping from shadow to shadow, Fearecia edged around the orange light in the center of the basement. Just to her south, in a poorly lit alcove, she’d find the vampiress, and her entourage. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to pierce the shadows, but it was no use; she could see nothing in the alcove. The ebon kin took a deep breath, settling her nerves, and charged, abandoning stealth as she launched herself into the alcove.

The eyes of the vampiress lit up with glee as the dragonkin bolted in, a cackle of delight escaping her. She all but ignored the throwing blade that launched itself into her, getting ready to return fire with a spell. The dragonkin, though, didn’t even try to stand and fight. She fled after the first throw, drawing a growl of irritation from the vampiress. Coward. The Countess and her entourage pursued, chasing the dragonkin through the basement. Fearecia would throw only once, usually at one of the entourage, then retreat, not letting anyone close on her.

The fight went predictably enough. By keeping her distance, the ebon kin was able to keep herself from getting cornered and overwhelmed, thereby picking at the swarm until they fell, one by one. Soon enough, only the vampiress was left, furiously chasing the dragonkin, trying to get close, but never quite able to keep up with her. In the confined space, the vampiress’ superior speed was all but useless, as Fear would simply duck around corners and columns to prevent Adria from gaining on her.

Then it happened: the dragonkin finally got the upper hand. The Countess could feel the wounds adding up, leaving a trail of blood on the stone floor. Snarling with frustration, Countess Adria Karkegard retreated, finally forced on the defensive. Fearecia gave chase, cornering the woman in the original shadowy alcove, trading her throwing blades for Sesumo, the blade of the katana glittering.

Panting, Fearecia growled, “We need to talk.”
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fearecia
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Re: Enemies a Plenty

Post by fearecia »

The Countess stared at the towering dragonkin before her, shocked and disbelieving. Talk? This… beast… wanted to talk? Adria held still for a moment, staring at the katana drawn on her, unable to process. Snarling, she took a chance, going back on the offensive and launching herself at the dragonkin.

Fear growled and let Sesumo fall away from her enemy, not wanting to send the Countess on a trip past Deori. After all, she’d just have to fight Adria all over again if she killed her. Instead, she balled her left fist, aiming to strike the vampiress. Adria was faster, getting inside the dragonkin’s defenses and forcing her back, claws gouging scales. Fear hissed in surprise as she stumbled backwards, knocking into something and sending it crashing to the floor, the sound of smashing pottery echoing through the basement.

Adria froze, blood red gaze dropping to the floor. What had once been a beautiful bowl of dwarven craftsmanship was now simply dozens of fragments, the magic that had enchanted it slowly dissipating into the shadows like flecks of dancing diamonds. Completely forgetting the dragonkin a moment, the vampiress shrieked, the sound bouncing off the stone walls with an unearthly echo.

Fear grimaced, pinning her ears back against her skull at the awful noise. Dear gods, surely only a vampire could make such an agonizing sound. The dragonkin took the moment to step back from the vampiress, moving to block the exit, but Adria no longer cared about her. No, the vampiress had fallen to her knees, futilely trying to gather the smashed pieces of pottery together. Cautiously, Fear slid the katana home in its sheath on her back, unsure just what was going on.

Finally, the Countess turned on the dragonkin, positively glaring daggers. “You… you’ve ruined everything.”

The dragonkin raised an eyebrow at the crouching vampire, folding her arms across her bloodied chest. “Ruined what, exactly?”

“Her plan to get back at me,” rumbled a deep baritone, smooth and deadly as spider’s silk.

An icy claw of terror ran itself up the dragonkin’s spine. Oh, she knew that voice, had heard it cackle over her dying body any number of times. She cursed softly under her breath as she spun, Sesumo flying free of its sheath once more. There, leaning idly against a column, was Count Vorigan, power radiating from him. The dragonkin was outnumbered, badly, and she knew it.
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fearecia
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Re: Enemies a Plenty

Post by fearecia »

The Count tilted his head to one side with complete nonchalance. “Oh, do put it away. If I wanted you dead, it would have happened already.”

Deep in her gut, Fearecia knew the vampire was right. She only ever dared face him with a group of fellow adventurers, and even then, he was a very tough opponent. Still, even though he was completely relaxed, absently inspecting his nails, the fighter in her didn’t dare lose what little advantage she had in keeping Sesumo between them.

Count Vorigan shrugged. “Have it your way then.” He glanced past the dragonkin to the vampiress, still crouched on the floor. “Adria, darling, haven’t I told you to be more careful about letting strangers into the house?”

The Countess snarled, getting to her feet. “I wouldn’t be so vulnerable here if you hadn’t left!”

He glanced around, the orange light giving his pale skin a sickly glow. “Honestly darling. We’ve had this argument before. You know I’ve always had more ambitions than this place could hold. How could we grow our empire within these meager walls?”

Almost forgotten, the dragonkin slowly let the tip of her katana fall towards the floor, staring between the pair incredulously. What in the blazes was going on?

“Sad, isn’t it?” a voice whispered in her ear, amusement and disgust somehow apparent in the commentary. “And to think they held so much promise for causing Chaos.”

Fearecia stifled a yelp and glanced down at her side. Another vampire had snuck up next to her elbow while she was distracted, watching the interplay between the two with a cold expression. Light glittered off crystal armor: a battlemage. Fear watched the newest vampire with caution for several moments, weighing her. Deciding that the newest addition must not be an overt threat, Fear asked, “What in the name of Deori is going on?”

Avyra waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, Vorigan bought Magna Turris ages ago as a gift for Adria, to get her out of this dingy manor. However, this was always her home, and she refused to move. So he went ahead, hoping she would follow eventually. That was positively ages ago, though. She’s been stewing in this mess of a place ever since.”

The Countess had decided to ignore the dragonkin for now and advanced on her husband, snarling and spitting in his face. He threw a long suffering glance in Fear’s and Avy’s direction before continuing to speak with her in a haughty and condescending manner. His annoyance, of course, only further irritated Adria.

“So… this is all just a lover’s quarrel?” Fear asked the battlemage.

Avyra nodded. “Yeah.”

“How do Rhaegos, Alioik and I all play into it?”

The battlemage laughed softly. “Oh, you all, and more, were just collateral damage. That bowl you broke? It’s something of a scrying device. When paired with an enchanted weapon, it allows the user to possess the holder. Vorigan was using his to manage his business affairs in the wider world through proxies, as well as just keeping an eye on things. He initially was just restricted to people here in Gallowhaven, but once adventurers found their way in, he was able to expand. Adria here was upset that he was ignoring her and staying at Magna Turris, so she was trying to kill any of his proxies she could to get his attention. Didn’t work so well.”

The dragonkin took several moments to process the information. The blade had allowed her to be possessed. Well, it certainly explained all the blackouts and random things she’d been doing. And Alioik had been carrying one of Adria’s daggers, which is probably why he attacked her. But… “Why do I crave holding the blade?”

“Oh, that. The enchantment confers some of the scrier’s abilities onto the weapon holder. In the case of these two, their vampire skills: speed, strength, etc. It’s also a fair bit addicting, in order to make it so that you are less likely to ditch the weapon.”

The dragonkin drew her free hand up to her face. Curses above… that was why she’d been going animal. Vampires and “animalistic” races didn’t mix well. It was one of the multitude of conversations she and Satyana had had over the years. She growled, dropping her hand in frustration. “Alright you two! Enough!” she shouted, interrupting the arguing vampires.

The two vampires paused, almost shocked that someone dared intrude on their old debate. The tip of the dragonkin’s katana, however, was pointed at both of them, making Adria hiss a bit in distaste. “What do you want, dragonkin?”

Fear snorted. “First things first. Adria. I presume you are behind what was done to Rhaegos?”

The vampiress raised a delicate eyebrow. “Who?”

Avyra giggled in the background as Fear snarled. “The young red dragonkin.”

“Oh, him.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Yes. He was utterly boring.” She paused a moment, seeming to consider as she narrowed her crimson eyes at the ebon dragonkin. “You, however, are supposed to die.”

Vorigan laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Now dear. You and I both know that you won’t win against her alone.”

“Then help me,” the vampiress growled, glowering at her husband.

Vorigan shook his head. “She was a very good proxy while she kept the blade around. I can’t go around killing someone who’s served me so very well.”

Fear growled, these two really starting to get on her nerves. “Enough. I should kill you a hundred times for what you did to Rhae, but…” she glanced down at the bowl, chasing another train of thought and knowing the foolishness of revenge, “can this thing be repaired?”

Adria positively glared absolute daggers. “No.”

“Are there more of them?”

“I have the only other,” Vorigan said, interrupting.

Fear nodded. “Fine. Then, Vorigan. I have a proposition for you, since you seem uninterested in killing me.” The Count gave her an amused look as she continued. “I won’t come down here and send your wife past Deori so many times that he gives up and accepts her into his domain, so long as you take me to destroy your bowl.”
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fearecia
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Re: Enemies a Plenty

Post by fearecia »

It took a fair bit more convincing, but eventually the Count agreed to the dragonkin’s terms. Provided Fear never hunt Adria for sport again, either. For all that he was a condescending brat, Vorigan seemed something of an honorable man, too, and he cared about his wife. Which, of course, was why he’d actually listened to Avyra when she’d wandered up to tell him what Adria had been up to. Vorigan hadn’t been entirely trusting of Avyra, so he’d sent her with another blade to keep an eye on Fearecia. It had then simply been a matter of waiting for Fear to wander back and handle business.

The group of them ended up traveling to Magna Turris under the cover of night and destroying the bowl. The trip was entirely nerve-wracking for Fear, knowing that Vorigan could turn on her at any point in time, but in the end, he was a vampire of his word. Avyra tagged along for a while, confirming for Fear that the right bowl was being broken. The last thing the dragonkin wanted was to be double crossed.

When the bowl shattered, a weight lifted off the dragonkin’s mind, letting her draw her first easy breath in ages. No longer did the siren song of the blade constantly pull at her thoughts, eternally begging to be held once more. No, she was finally free of the enchantment and so with enormous relief, was escorted out of Magna Turris. Vorigan, of course, encouraged her to come back anytime she wanted. He did enjoy watching her die, and now that affairs were settled in regards to the blade and bowl, he no longer needed to protect her. Fear grumbled and beat it back to the desert.

Walking back into Devardec the next day, Fear stopped by the bank and reclaimed the beautiful, deadly weapon she’d originally taken from Vorigan’s conquered ashes. It was still magnificent, but it was just a blade. Gratefully, she returned to the guild and put the blade back in its proper place. She chuckled a bit to herself, thinking about how Rhaegos and Alioik would react when she told them what she’d discovered. It was all positively ridiculous, but, then again, life in Terris was usually that way.
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