Stop in Skingrad
The huge Elder Dragon was a strong flyer, carrying them across the mountains bordering Skyrim to the south in little less than an hour. As the fields of Cyrodiil rolled past beneath them, Gyrmallion relaxed slightly. He glanced back at Nevano. "Do you...get used to this?" he asked, managing to pitch his voice to be heard over the winds, but not so loud as to possibly alert the dragon beneath them. "I mean..."
"Sort of?" Nevano didn't seem all that comfortable, though he couldn't stop looking down. "We aren't over water, so it's...easier."
"Oh-you have a problem with water?" The Altmer grimaced. "Well...Glimmosven isn't that far from Valenwood, at least..."
The raven in front of him, who was hunkered almost flat between the horns and had her eyes shut to boot, twitched at little at the mention of Valenwood.
"There are nasty things in deep water." Nevano didn't look up from the scenery below. "Slaughterfish, dreugh, really huge nasty sea monsters...though my issue with mostly with boats. Never had a single good trip on a boat."
"That I can...understand. I've seen quite a few creatures." He chuckled. "But...well, we had a boat when I was young, and I learned how to operate it. It's been a few years, but...I was a good sailor, before the Oblivion Crisis happened. I haven't been able to sail for the fun of it since then."
"The first time I was introduced to anything to do with sailing, I was below during a storm." Nevano said flatly.
"That would make a difference," Gyrmallion agreed. He gazed past the dragon's neck down below. "I'd...offer to take you out on a smaller boat sometime...only small boats tend to be worse for people who get seasick, and...well, there's a part of me that wonders if both of us will still be alive after this is over.
"This isn't the first time I've cheated Death," he continued. "In fact, Elealda will swear before a tribunal and the Eight that I must be on speaking terms with him. But it's never been so...blatant before. Never snatched away from my execution." He stared blankly ahead. "I'm wondering now, how much longer before my luck runs out."
"Cheating death...is kinda what we do." Nevano said lightly, frowning as he watched the forest below.
Gyrmallion glanced back at him, eyebrow raised.
"Sorry. I haven't seen this area in decades." Nevano said. "You'll continue to cheat death until you have fulfilled what it is you are supposed to do. If you had already done what you were supposed to do, you would have died." He finally tore his eyes away. "Did you know there were failed Nerevarines? I wasn't the first one, but I was the last one."
"No. I didn't know that." He sighed. "Probably the fault of both our people. Morrowind is...standoffish. But admittedly, Summerset wasn't interested."
"We left them a long time ago. We were lesser in most Altmer's eyes, especially after we were changed into Dunmer." Nevano said. "We took pride in being able to break away, create our own people and our own culture. We even...took pride in being Dunmer. Most seem to forget it's a curse. An oversight the Thalmor tried to capitalize on. Didn't end well for them but...it was a nasty reminder. Broke me, nearly broke Veleth."
Gyrmallion sighed. "My people have much to answer for. And I'm...sorry, for what they did to you and yours."
"You aren't them." Nevano said. "No more than the Dunmer today are the ones responsible for us being cursed."
The raven cawed in agreement.
"Chii Chare," Gyrmallion mused. "You're right. It's easy to get...lost in recrimination. To forget that there are other paths available."
"I didn't want to be Nerevarine." Nevano said. "I hated it. Why should I care? These were the same people who allowed me to be a slave. I had no love for them. Why should I listen to a god I didn't worship, a weird voice in my head and a group of people who told me to do it or they would hunt me down? But..."
"But?"
"I was with the Urshilaku when an ash storm hit. Unlike the ash storms today...those often had diseases." Nevano's eyes were distant. "Blight and...corprus. Both are gone now, thank the gods but a little girl, no more than six, didn't get inside fast enough. She had caught corprus."
Gyrmallion inhaled hard. "We...that we knew about. The corprus...the blight. And a child...Divines."
"Only one has ever survived it. She wasn't it." Nevano's face grew hard. "I will never forget...listening to her die. Right then I realized that no one there deserved this fate. No matter their past, my past...no one deserved that. Someone needed to do something. So I did. I had many paths I could take. I chose the hardest. There's a lot of things I wished hadn't happened but...I won't regret making sure no more children died in that agony. That disease...hurts. The pain is so bad it turns you insane."
You sound...almost like you know." Gyrmallion's own eyes had grown distant. "Choosing the hardest path..."
"I said there was one survivor, did I not?" Nevano said. " 'Eats their sin and is reborn'. The Card'vel interpret that literally. That's not what it meant at all."
"You did...contract it, then."
"I killed an ash vampire. Polite as hell when he wasn't trying to kill me." Nevano said. "Introduced himself as Dagoth Gares. I have no idea how he talked around all the..." He motioned at his face. "weird stuff that goes on with them. Twisted and...ugh. Anyway, I didn't contract anything. He gifted it to me. I won't forget what he said. 'Even as my master wills, you shall come to him, in his flesh and of his flesh.' Then the pain hit."
"That's..." Gyrmallion shuddered. "I've never met an ash vampire. But during the war...we did come across a coven of vampires taking advantage of the chaos. Another thing I've kept to myself; we were supposed to take the town they were attacking. We wiped out the vampires and reported the town deserted. But the...master of the coven. He was something like you describe: polite, even suave. Almost...charming. Except that he was charming us in preparation for trying to kill us."
"I don't know who called them vampires, because they weren't." Nevano said, almost matter-of-fact. "Real vampires can look normal, even downright gorgeous. Ash vampires...they were once mer, like you or me, but so twisted and malformed you can barely tell. They are missing parts of their faces, or the whole face, or have grown parts that shouldn't be there like tentacles from their mouths. Dagoth Ur was the worst. He wore a mask, his body twisted...but sounded so normal. But the feel around him was horrible. We met his shade and it was still so bad Veleth vomited everywhere. Only Nerevar kept my mind from breaking."
Gyrmallion shuddered. "I'm...glad I never saw one, in that case. Damn Falcve to whatever hell will take him; it was his expedition to Morrowind that caused that, I'd wager my..." he paused, "well, I don't know what I actually own right now to wager. My sword-hand, I guess."
"Hmm...that name sounds familiar..." Nevano murmured.
"I don't remember if you were there; Drelasa was. Falcve is one of the three powers at the head of the Aldmeri Dominion, along with his cousin Rumalashorn and Sirinalda. They're as poisonous a group as you'd ever want to meet; fortunately for the rest of the world, they're not working together." He pressed his lips together grimly. "Though that matters little enough to those caught in what damage they still wreak."
"If you catch him, give him to the Card'vel." Nevano said.
"I might." Gyrmallion grimaced. "We'd need an entire army of dragons to get through their defenses, though. They don't expect an attack on the Summerset Isles...but they certainly expect an attack in them. All of them are prepared to keep off an army, because none of them believe that the others are content with what power they have, and they're ready for an attack."
Ravenlight cawed thoughtfully.
"You'll meet the Card'vel. Creepy, powerful magic." Nevano said. "Then they'll eat him."
"He deserves it." Gyrmallion didn't turn a hair. "Actually, they all do, though Rumalashorn...might give them indigestion."
"Uliamu will like you."
"I suspect that's better than her not liking-" He broke off and leaned over. "Look! The City!"
Nevano leaned over to look, Nevusa hopping up as well. To the east, the Imperial City glowed in the afternoon light. The White-Gold Tower looked like a spire of gilded ivory, rising above all of it. Even the dragon glanced over with interest, though he didn't veer in that direction. Nevano said nothing but homesickness tugged at him harder than he thought it would have. Nevusa meowed like crazy, leaning out.
"It's beautiful," Gyrmallion whispered.
Nevano turned away, looking west.
"What are you looking for?" Gyrmallion had noticed the movement.
"...Chorrol." He had almost said 'home'.
Gyrmallion glanced at him, then also turned west, scouring the ground below them. "Look. There." He pointed. "Is that...it?"
Nevano's eyes easily and immediately picked out all the familiar landmarks. Weynon Priory, Castle Chorrol, the chapel to Stendarr, the great oak tree that grew right outside the Fighters Guild hall.
"That's it." His voice was barely audible.
Sitting in front of each other as they were, Gyrmallion couldn't put his hand on Nevano's shoulder. But he found he wanted to.
"Interesting how some things never change..." He said.
"Oh?"
Nevano didn't look to where the graveyard was. That...was too much. Instead, he took in how the city looked now. There was no trace of the fires that had nearly destroyed it decades ago. The memories of that horrid time had faded in the minds of the shorter lived races; but he knew it wasn't erased. Still, life trudged on and thus it did here. He was glad it had.
Kriifaadneh continued on, the Imperial City and Chorrol growing small behind him. The light below turned golden as the sun drifted toward late afternoon; below, the land grew wilder. After a while, he appeared to start looking for something below. Then he found it. "Brace yourselves, joor!"
Nevano grunted. Nevusa yeowled happily as the dragon dove.
The herd of wild horses scattered in panic as he swooped. Most managed to flee: one stumbled over a patch of rough ground, and before it could right itself, the Elder Dragon was on it. There was one panicked scream; then the huge jaws slammed shut, and the cry was broken off. He landed heavily a short distance from the spot he'd seized the horse.
"I must rest and eat," he said. "If you wish to move away for the time being, I will wait for you to return before I return to the skies."
Nevano yelped as he slid off and tumbled arse over tea kettle in the grass. Gyrmallion followed, landing a little more gracefully. Nevusa and Ravenlight also sprang down, both turning back into Mer as they hit the ground.
"Let's get a little ways away," Ravenlight suggested, even before the sound of ripping flesh and bone reached their ears. "Dragons aren't...neat feeders."
Nevano groaned as he got up. "Careful...that's the sound of an Orc mating call around here."
"So we'll watch for any showing up-though I daresay a lusty Orc will be greatly disappointed at what he finds." Ravenlight moved easily down the hill they'd landed on. "More than Orcs to watch out for here, though. Nevusa, don't run off to look at the scenery; there are trolls."
"And goblins and ogres and minotaurs..." Nevano got up, brushing himself off.
Nevusa was eagerly looking around but didn't stray too terribly far.
"See if we can find anything wild to eat while he's resting," Ravenlight mused. "Should have brought a lighter bow. There's probably rabbits."
"Well...we aren't that far from Skingrad..." Nevano said.
"How far is 'that far'?" Gyrmallion flinched as he stretched his legs. "Ow. Getting stiff. Might have to ask to be turned into something for this next leg, or I won't be able to walk when we reach the island."
Nevano looked around. "I think...we aren't far from an old goblin cave. Was a favorite hunting ground of the Fighter's Guild. Less than an hour's walk. We don't have to go into the city. More interested in the farms around it."
"I do have coin," Ravenlight agreed. "And...if they need a small job done around the area instead, it wouldn't be too difficult." She glanced over at the dragon, still visible on the hill. "He'll need to sleep for a few hours after eating, anyway. Be ready to leave once we come back."
She glanced over at Nevano. "What direction is the closest farm?"
"Oh, I was going to steal a sheep. More sheep than people around here." Nevano said. "And just start walking south. We'll hit a farm...or a pasture full of sheep or tomatoes. Or grapes. One of the three."
He got two steps then stopped. "I should...mention though. I haven't been here in a long time so I don't know but..." Nevano twisted his jaw. "As of last time I was here, the count ruled here. He is a vampire. Somehow he's kept up the ruse. If there is one vampire other than Serana who has resisted that evil call, it's Janus Hassildor. He actually hates other vampires. It's interesting."
Ravenlight raised an eyebrow. "Interesting...hm. And interesting that of all the places Kriifaadneh chose to come for a hunt, it would be here. Might be worth finding out if that's still the case."
"I remembered because I was telling Serana about it." He shrugged. "I wanted to bring her here. I guess probably better to scout it out just in case he's lost his mind or is dead. Don't want her to be disappointed..."
"Yeah." Ravenlight grimaced. "That would be...well, disappointing would be the least of it."
"He's been count here for hundreds of years." Nevano tilted his head. "He has to be under a different name...if Hassildor was even his original name. Well, I know a good phrase that will get his attention. Plus it'll be full night. He can't handle the sun like Serana can."
"It'll be full night shortly," Ravenlight noted. She glanced over at Gyrmallion. "Can you tell if they're still safe?"
He nodded, touching a simple silver pendant. "I was able to recreate the original spell to alert me if the wards were being tested, and bind it to this. Nothing so far."
"We've got time, then." Ravenlight turned. "Let's see what we can find out about this count."
Nevano nodded and headed off south. While Skingrad hadn't been someplace he had been sent often, he was still very familiar with the area. After all...some of the best wine in the province came from Skingrad.
Skingrad was a slightly confusing city at first. The city was built on a hill and thus the buildings were both up and down, everything connected through a series of gates and bridges. Nevano hesitated as they approached one of the main gates.
"Problem?" Ravenlight asked, pulling off her four-horned dragonscale helmet and tucking it under one arm.
"More a 'me' problem than an actual one." Nevano admitted. "Just...been a long time."
"Ah." Ravenlight looked up. "Well... it's not exactly a problem, but it did just occur to me that the entire city is going to know about us within five minutes of our walking in the gate, if gossip travels as fast here as it does in Skyrim. We...don't exactly blend in."
"Two Dunmer, a Bosmer and an Altmer walk into town." Nevano snorted.
"Nevano, have you gone blind?" Ravenlight gestured, first to herself, and then to Gyrmallion. "Dragonscale armor is nearly unheard of in Skyrim, and I know damn well that what Gyrmallion is wearing is unique. That's what's going to attract attention, and far faster than our races."
"I was making a joke." He laughed.
"Well..." She shook her head. "Hopefully we'll all still be laughing at the end of this."
"Though he is right in that it's unusual for all three races of Mer to be together at the same time, and not be fighting," Gyrmallion commented wryly.
"Thank you!" Nevano threw his hands in the air as he went through the gates, much to the bewilderment to the guards.
"Besides." Nevano didn't seem that concerned. "Most people here are either snobby or are farmers and there's a tavern on every city block selling competing labels. And it's after dark. If they even realize you have armor on, it'll be a small miracle. Surilie wine started here. Everyone is drinking right now."
They meandered the streets and so far, Nevano was right. Most people were either home or preoccupied in the many taverns that dotted the city. It wasn't a raucous noise though. Just normal citizens happily unwinding after a long day. The passing guards gave them strange looks but steered clear once they saw Gyrmallion, their expression switching to careful disinterest.
"Aw, guar shite..." Nevano muttered. "Too many bridges...the castle is south. I think."
Nevusa was too busy looking around, her head whipping back and forth, that she didn't notice she was no longer walking straight. She yelped when she walked right into a much smaller form, both of them tumbling down. "Oh! Vith, I'm sorry!" She scrambled to her feet, helping the old woman to her feet. "Are you alright?"
Ravenlight halted and turned quickly, readying a healing hands spell in case the tumble had been serious.
"Oh, I'm fine." The old Bosmer woman brushed graying hair back out of her. "Don't let the hair fool you, I'm not that decrepit yet that a tumble will break me in half. I've taken far worse from goblins over the years!"
"Goblins?" Nevusa asked.
"Oh yes!" The older woman smiled. "I don't do so much anymore but I used to be the best goblin hunter in the Fighters Guild in my day! In fact I..." She trailed off as Nevano came over to see what was going on. "I don't believe it..."
Nevano's heart slammed into his throat. The absolute last thing he had expected was for anyone to recognize him, especially not anyone from the Fighters Guild. "Parwen..." He said, her name surfacing from memories that felt like they came from a lifetime ago.
Ravenlight smiled, seeing their reactions. "Old friends, I take it?"
"Nevano! It is you! You goblin-busting troublemaker!" Parwen grabbed Nevano in a iron-clad hug, ignoring his flailing. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again! You have new friends! Oh, look at that armor. I doubt a whole herd of goblins could even dent that! Is this one still trouble? He used to send the whole city into fits! He once dyed a whole herd of sheep different colors."
Nevusa lit up like a lantern, her eyes sparkling. This...was a treasure trove she did not expect.
"He gave me a shot of a brandy that had me stupid in under ten minutes," Gyrmallion offered. "Admittedly, it helped getting my shoulder stitched up, but...would that count as trouble?"
"Surprised he left any for you." Parwen mock-glared at Nevano, still stuck in a one-armed grip. "At eighteen he was out-drinking Orcs...when Oreyn wasn't busting his chops for it. We would send him on the most difficult contracts we could to try to wear him out and he'd come home and do something like set guard uniforms on fire the moment he walked back in the gates."
Nevano groaned. "Parwen...gods, please, stop."
"Hmm, explains a lot about the way Drelasa acts around you," Ravenlight said, eyes twinkling. "Don't worry; we've found a few people who can straighten him out. One is the sweetest firebrand you'll ever meet; the other, I think, can control him now by batting her eyelashes at him."
"Finally found a sweetheart? Good for you!" Parwen finally let him go, pushing him upright as he gasped for air. "Hopefully this means you won't be doing things like greasing all the practice weapons so that a hammer goes flying across the room."
"Parwen! Gods..." Nevano's ears were fire red, even in the dim light given off by nearby lights. "Need to see the count...Is it still Hassildor?"
"Oh, yes. Changed the name to something I can't remember. Too busy training new recruits these days to notice what he's up to." Parwen nodded. "Seems to think the elves in the city won't notice he's lived longer than a human. Must be half-elf."
"Well...we could probably take the time to speak to him," Ravenlight said. "Know if there's any way to contact him? We really only have a few hours."
"Oh, just go talk to the butler up at the castle." Parwen said. "See if you can convince him. About the only way to see that recluse."
"Uhh...which way...?" Nevano asked.
Parwen pointed down the road. "Take a left, follow the road around, cross the bridge above us and keep going. You'll see the bridge to the castle."
"Thank you." Ravenlight smiled at her. "Maybe later we could get together and speak for longer. I know someone here," she glanced over at Nevusa, "who would certainly like to hear all the stories you have on her father."
Parwen perked up. "Father? You are...? This is wonderful!" She hugged Nevusa, without strangling her. "This one was so wild we all just assumed he'd run wild forever. Yes, come find me if you have time. I'm around. All I do is try to train new goblin hunters."
"Might have the chance to do more fairly soon," Ravenlight muttered, "depending on how this visit plays out." She grinned at Nevano. "Come on, troublesome; let's go see this count."
Nevano grimaced but, after getting the air squeezed from his lungs again, set off again. "It was not a hammer that went flying. It was a wooden sword."
Nevusa fairly bounced along behind them, grinning broadly. She couldn't wait to tell Veleth these new tidbits.
The directions were easy enough to follow, and they walked along, avoiding folks coming out of taverns-especially those stumbling out-until they finally came up to the castle itself.
Nevano had more or less gotten over his mortification from earlier, or at least enough so that his ears weren't as red. He managed to keep his voice steady as the steely butler approached. "We're here to see the count."
"Are you aware of the time?" He asked.
"Why don't you ask the count how those Telvanni 'health' potions are working." Nevano said. "I'm eager to know how it's working out since the last time I was sent to ask."
The butler eyed them. "Wait here."
Ravenlight arched an eyebrow at him. "Telvanni health potions?"
"Telvanni wizards have figured out how to keep on living forever. They are thousands of years old." Nevano said. "It's how I got to talk to Hassildor the first time because I figured it out. By pointing out he's keeping himself alive like a Telvanni wizard...well, it made him trust me just enough to talk to me, since I wasn't trying to blow his cover. Still tore strips of my hide off for my trouble though."
"Ah. Yes, he'd certainly remember that."
The butler came out after a few moments. "This way please."
He led them through several hallways, lined with thick carpets and lavish paintings, finally showing them into a room where the windows were fully blocked from any outside light. Behind a massive wood desk, covered in neat piles of parchment and scrolls, was a sour-faced old man with the very distinctive sunken features of a vampire.
"You again, I see." The count said. "Perhaps I should be asking how you manage to stay the same. What do you want?"
Ravenlight stepped a little in front of the others and bowed slightly. "First and foremost, I suppose, to offer congratulations on resisting the call of the Mistress of Doomcrag. Second… well, largely concerns the same."
"Hmph!" The count sniffed. "Been 'resisting' the calls of those base animals for centuries."
"Well, from what I saw, 'base animal' describes her pretty well...unfortunately, it's also like calling a dragon one." Ravenlight grimaced. "What do you know of the Armor of Wrath?"
"If you are asking me, no more than you do." He waved it off. "I run this city. Always have, always will. My job is to keep it as safe as I can, be it daedra, elves or vampires. And lately it's been vampires. I don't care why, I just make sure they regret it."
"Well, I may know more than you, in that case. It's an artifact of Molag Bal's, a truly nasty piece of work that takes all the rage and hatred the first vampire felt for him and fused it into a cuirass. It...intensifies the power of the vampire that wears it. It's in the keeping of the Mistress...and while you've been able to resist her call, the same isn't true of virtually any other vampire in Tamriel, save one other." She gestured to Nevano, "He, I, and two other companions barely escaped the area before nearly a dozen clans descended on it."
"So why come to me?" The old count asked. "Unless you are here to make sure I'm not slowly draining the citizens of Skingrad dry one by one? Think I'm trying to make Potema's Solitude here?"
Ravenlight snorted. "If I truly thought you were another Potema-or another Harkon, who I promise was worse--I'd have come with the Dawnguard. No, this was largely to see if you knew what the situation was likely to become in the next few weeks."
"Every vampire, from the newest thrall to the oldest ancient, is aware." Hassildor griped. "They are also fully aware there are those opposing them."
"Were you aware that more than vampires are answering the call?" This was Gyrmallion. He stepped forward and bowed, then removed his helmet.
"Oh? Molag Bal? The one who proclaims to love vampires so much?"
"Not so reclusive here, are you?" Nevano asked.
"Reclusive, but not stupid." Hassildor said. "I do not have the protection of the Mages Guild. I better know what's going on outside. I won't die to stupidity-nor will I let the stupidity of others threaten my city."
"If the Wheel goes down," Ravenlight said, starting to lose patience, "it will, I promise, take the city with it."
"Again, I fail to see what you want from me." He said. "Unless you are seeking help, in which case the answer is no."
"Mostly to see if you were aware that something far more destructive than the Oblivion Crisis is about to break out," said Gyrmallion. "And it will be a second Oblivion Crisis. I suppose what we should say is: gird well the walls around your city and stay vigilant. Mortal conjurers under pay or coercion of the Aldmeri Dominion-and better, under two opposing factions of the Dominion-are unleashing unbound daedra on the world, a few at a time. Every other vampire on Mundus itself is gathering. And Molag Bal is preparing a bid for power which has the other Daedric Lords alarmed." He bowed again to the count. "Guard well your lighted city, oh count, for should the rest of Mundus fall, it may be the last place with light left." He put his hand on Ravenlight's shoulder to steady her-he could probably feel the Dov's irritation with this blind old fool growing-and turned to leave.
"Very pretty words from a Thalmor, though I will say you are more polite than the fools who have waltzed in here making one demand or another." Hassildor said. "You should listen to the other obnoxious elf you brought with you. I'm FULLY aware of what is going on. My job is here, away from the crowds of vampires going to High Rock. You want to know what is damn good against daedra? Sheep. Thousands of brainless shites blundering around, bumping into everything, no reason, lots of noise and no matter how many they kill, they just crowd in more. Even scamps get confused. Which is good because Molag Bal's shrine is directly north, between here and Chorrol. You missed the uproar there the other night, for the fools who erected it failed to notice Kynareth's shrine nearby. And Clavicus Vile's. Sanguine's shrine to the northwest has been very active as of late. And as to vampire attacks...I have an agreement with Meridia's shrine directly west of here just a few leagues. I behave myself, they have free reign to destroy whatever undead crawls around here. It is as locked down here as it will get. The other counts can believe me or not. That is their issue."
"I'm no longer a Thalmor," Gyrmallion said calmly. "I ceased to be one the day my commander staked me and my men out for the vampires in High Rock, for daring to suggest we defend the town we were occupying against them. And yes, we missed the uproar here last night; for last night, a coven of ancient vampires, and a demon child of Vivec and Molag Bal attacked the home of the Dragonborn, who saved our lives, and to whom we owe more than a debt." He turned and looked back at the Count. "I hope your shrines guard you against such creatures: they are cruel, and attack from behind."
"That they do." Hassildor waved them on. "Good luck out there. We do what we can but you can't spread heroes throughout all of Tamriel. Your job is to stop it at its source. The clean up is more manageable by the rest of us common folk then."
"Hopefully." Gyrmallion gently steered Ravenlight around. "He might be rested now, Dovahjud; and we still have a long ways to go."
Nevano waited until they had gone out the door. "Before I go...don't be the next Kvatch. It stunk for months and you know it. Oh! I don't suppose you ever discovered who got your chickens up the bell towers did you?"
He caught up to them as Hassildor roared after him from his chambers. "Whew, he woke up on the wrong side of the crypt."
Ravenlight was growling in Dovahzul under her breath. They couldn't understand most of it, but the words meyye joore seemed to figure most prominently.
"You tell him." Nevano said, eyeing a particular painting right before they left the hallway. "Hang on..." A slow, dangerous smile made its way onto Nevano's face.
"Please don't do anything that would make it dangerous for you to return with Serana," Gyrmallion said. Then a smile flicked across his face. "Something that might shake him up and annoy him, on the other hand...go ahead."
Nevano's boot knife made a swift appearance and he swiftly carved a few...colorful phrases in rather atrocious handwriting across the portrait of the count.
"Zahkoraav wuth mey," Ravenlight grumbled, though her eyes lightened briefly at the sight of that. "Come on. Let's go fetch what we set out for."
"Starting with some food, I hope," Gyrmallion said mildly. "I haven't eaten that much today, and it's been a long one."
"Food sounds amazing!" Nevano said brightly.
"One of the taverns nearest the gate we came through, I think." She was calming down, but not by much. "Yes, let's...get something to eat before we head back. If we're a little late, he won't mind: gives him a little longer to rest before we take off again." She growled. "I half-want to have him fly over the town and bellow a few times, just to scare the hell out of them."
"Aww, don't scare the sheep." Nevano said. "It's their defense!"
"True; they'd nearly run themselves to death if he showed up over the horizon, and with that bellowing, half of them would keel over dead in panic," Ravenlight growled. "Sheep. Hopefully his shrines do what's needed."
"Sheep drop dead for no reason. Brainless, remember?" Nevano laughed. "Meridia's shrine isn't far from here. Strong one too."
"That's reassuring, at least. Though if it's not kept up..." She shook her head. "Remind me sometime to tell you what Drizzt and I had to clear out of her temple, back in Skyrim. Ugh."
"Unless someone killed them all, the shrines are pretty active around here." Nevano said.
"Good." Gyrmallion was fingering his pendant again and frowning.
"Anything?" He asked
"No...and that's got me puzzled. I've felt a little activity from inside the wards, but that's just the clan moving around: I had to change the spell to tell me when it was just them shortly after I got the wards set up, because otherwise they were going off too much. Nothing's come at the island from the outside. Which...if they're after the Heart of the Empire, something should have by now."
"Get to the dragon. Let's go! Grab food along the way." Nevano said. "Those are not signs I like."
Gyrmallion nodded and moved into a run. Ravenlight followed behind him.
Nevano slid away from them down a side street and popped back next to them after a minute or so, shoving an armful of something in his bag. "Got us covered, to the dragon!"
"I'll call him to us once we're out of the city," Ravenlight said, not yet short of breath. "If this is bad-and I think we're all feeling that it is-we can't run all the way back to him. "
"Get a mutton chop out of it." Nevano managed to crack.
They barreled through the gates far faster than they had left, again, much to the confusion of the guards. In some consideration to the near-defenselessness of the city, Ravenlight waited until they had crested the first hill before inhaling and Shouting. "KRII FAAD NEH!"
Less than five minutes later, wings cracked overhead, and the Elder Dragon circled and landed.
He glanced at them, mildly puzzled, as they all scrambled up to his back. "I do not know much about the cities of the joore," he rumbled, "but...it is not usual for those who enter to leave so swiftly unless they were chased."
"Yes, true, true..." Nevano settled in. "Could also be running before someone notices the trouble I've caused. Or, in this case, mostly, we are the ones chasing."
"We need to get where we're going as quickly as possible," Ravenlight explained.
"Ah. Understood." He lowered himself slightly. "Cling tight!" Then, with a roar that echoed off the city walls behind them, he launched himself up into the air, caught the wind, and was quickly gone.
"Somehow I'm still hungry, despite feeling like I left my stomach on the ground..." Nevano muttered.
"Didn't drop that bag, did you?" Ravenlight glanced back at him. "We'll all need something. Wait a little bit for the feeling to pass before you try to eat, though."
"If I drop food like that, it's because I'm dead." Nevano said, holding it close.
"That's good, at least." Gyrmallion was leaning forward, having managed to mount almost directly behind the dragon's head. The wind whipped at them; but he seemed to be ignoring it. From a few snatches of words that drifted back to the others, he was praying, and quite fervently, that they would arrive on time.
"We will." Nevano said, with a confidence he himself didn't know he had. "We will."
