Harry Potter: Vel'ilstaer: Stormraven
I own none of these characters, neither do I own Harry Potter.

(Roshana)

Dean spiralled out of the sky, as he fell; a small portal of glossy black appeared and out shot a Raven. "Corax! To me!" The Raven responded with a gurgling croak and moved within touching distance of his partner.

The young Warlock extended his hand and claw met it; they locked eyes and Dean found himself shrinking, twisting, stretching and then pure blinding white pain as he found himself moulding and morphing into Corax.

Soon enough a lone Raven was flying towards the massive gates of a truly awe-inspiring metropolis. Illuminated by numerous faint orange beacons, underneath a nigh-on perpetual night sky. Corax, flew towards the gates, gradually sinking lower and lower as he did so; courtesy of being a practioner of the mystic arts, it granted him an alert of anything that might split his partner from him. As they neared the barriers much closer to the city, Corax was nearly five-foot from the floor.

Then came the split, as they split; Corax banked around to flutter just out above the shoulder of his partner. Who rolled smoothly to his feet as a squad of Drow and Drow-blooded humans appeared and blocked the way "Halt, intruder! Why does one of King Dwendal's subjects come to Roshana?" The latter part was said with utter contempt.

Dean looked at them "I know not this King Dwendal, so I cannot be his subject. Roshana? Is that where I am? Where exactly am I, precisely? Because I fear that I am…most horrendously lost."

"You know not the name of your King? He who protects you from invasions and our wars?" The Guard Leader stated confused.

"I…came here via a Plane Shift. Unfortunately, my party had something interfere with our entry here…which is where exactly?"

"Exandria. This world is known as Exandria; you're currently on the Continent of Wildemount, there are two powers in Wildemount; the Kryn Dynasty, whose capital you stand in front of and the Dwendalian Empire to the West."

Dean nodded "I swear not to cause trouble of any sort. I only seek a place to reside, to rest and recuperate and try and plot where my party may have ended up."

"I, Rikagh of Den Thelyss will accept and witness your oath; along with provide you with lodgings."

Dean bowed courteously and followed the guards inside. He was hopelessly lost and far from where he wanted to be. "Vel, I'll see you eventually."

(Draconia)

Seamus came too, he was buried in a snowbank and he had a razor sharp icicle puncturing his right shoulder. "Wonderful, in a frozen hell; destination unknown and looking like an Abominable Irishman with a White Walker Ice thing in my shoulder.

Seamus brought his left hand up and with a swift firebolt; one of the best cantrips he had committed to memory effortlessly blasted himself free. Now, fully mobile with an icicle-stake in his shoulder, he looked around.

Where he'd ended up was at the base of a frozen bi-pedal dragon. "Hello!"

His voice reverberated across the landscape. Then, as he took another step-forwards, several more of these bi-pedal dragon people appeared. "You're an awfully, long way from home…human."

"No shit. Can a human get some help? Such as…this stake in my shoulder, and answer some questions. Because, I have the feeling that I'm not only a fucking long way from home but I'm also extremely lost."

The leader a Silver one chuckled "That is fair. Come, we must hurry for the Lord is…not one to tolerate outsiders; especially not humans."

"Your Lord is?" Seamus retorted when he heard the unmistakable flapping of wings. Acting quickly, he pulled out his wand.

"What are you…" A Bronze dragon-human thing snarled.

"Saving everyone. Now stay bloody still." With that he tapped the party of seven over their heads and everyone thankfully melted from view as a dragon appeared; Seamus had seen the Nesting Mothers, this…dwarfed them. It was gigantic, positively gargantuan, it was over 18ft in length total, with a wingspan that almost seemed to blot out the sun.

Thankfully, it flew by without any problems. The new party stopped, then Seamus undid his concealing spell and the group hastily covered the snow-drifts before sliding down some concealed ropes into a series of interlocking caves and tunnels. "Would someone please explain? Oh and getting this…" Words failed Seamus as the Silver Humanoid Dragon pushed the icicle out of his shoulder as the Brass placed a five-fingered clawed hand on each wound and effortlessly sealed them shut.

"Now where am I? And who and what are you? I'm sorry for offence but I've never seen people like you before." Seamus asked.

"Draconia in the World of Exandria and as for what we are, We're Dragonborn anything beyond that is rather hard to explain. I'm Praltiren Grevarax…" Announced the Silver Dragonborn before clapping the Brass one on the shoulder "This is Lerthoc Arizys."

"Pleasure to meet you both, I'm Seamus Finnegan and I'm…extremely lost."

"That we can tell. Mr. Finnegan, We; the few survivors of Draconia are in dire need of help for our Land is under threat from our new Lord, The Frigid Doom an Ancient White Dragon."

Seamus sighed "Aye, I'll help. But Praltiren, I'm going to need to know what I'm working with, how many Dragonfolk I'm working with and your knowledge of Dragons; for the ones I've seen are fucking tiny compared to that thing."

"Is that all? Human, I'm Drakka Stormwind." A Copper Dragonborn said emerging from the shadows.

"Pleasure, I do have other questions but right now they're not really important…I really fucking wish my Half-Elf friend was here right now; he'd be better at this than me." Seamus retorted as he opened his backpack.

(Rumblecusp)

Luna had possibly the roughest landing as she lost consciousness; she vaguely remembered landing on a beach and someone pulling her ashore. At least the Snarklepuffs and Puffskins were behaving; as were the Blithering Humdingers.

Who knew, she might find a Heliopath here.

(Ank'Harel)

"You alright Miss?" The pitch and cadence of this voice, reminded Hermione of one of the United Arab Emirate; Delegation of Dentists that had arrived for a conference, between her second and third year at Hogwarts.

Hermione, groaned, twisted here neck with a satisfactory barrage of clicks and pops. She grabbed the Guards forearm, using it to help her get to her feet "I should be. Nothing broken." She quickly found that she was surrounded by eight guards.

"You appeared out of thin air, no-where near a teleportation circle or anywhere sanctified for Planar Travel; and terrified six Persons of Interest. Please come with us and please do not try to resist."

Hermione nodded. "Vel, I blame you for this bad luck and misfortune." Blame Vel or Harry; she never did normally but this time…it felt justified. "Where am I? Because, it appears I have gotten extremely lost and I intend to try and find my idiotic adopted little brother and twist his ear."

The guards chuckled "You are in Ank'Harel, the Jewel of Marquet."

Hermione was awestruck "Now, where is Ank'Harel in relation Roshana, Draconia, Rumblecusp, Vasselheim and Westrunn?"

"We'll answer your questions if you'll answer J'Mon Sa Ord's. J'Mon Sa Ord has protected this city for over four centuries; best advice is to speak honest and truthfully."

Hermione nodded "That I will do."

"Normally, we, the Hand of Ord take all belongings off Persons of Interest but we in Ank'Harel like to give the benefit of the doubt. Do not misplace common courtesy as good intentions."

The walk through the bazaar and winding streets it was awe-inspiring. She would not mind spending time here, not one bit.

(Vasselheim)

Neville landed in what would be known as the 'Grog Landing' or 'Super Hero Landing'. The good news was that he'd landed on his feet; more or less. Bad news, he'd landed right in the Middle of the Crossroads and he'd landed in front of forty, what appeared to be policeman.

All forty of them, were definitely part of different factions. There were some in bright, brilliant silver scale or silver full-plate; with the picture of a dragon engraved or imprinted on the front.

Ten appeared to be dressed in casual clothing, armed with either staffs or no apparent weapons. Neville quickly realised that this lot were potentially the most dangerous of the lot.

The Silver and the plain-clothed red and blue clad police were coming face on. Neville turned behind him to a team of Druids, also ten of them and accompanying them were ten officials in what looked-like the druids colours but quartered a question marked staff encompassed in a wreath alongside a battle axe with the image of scales on the heads.

"Problem…officials?" Neville asked, thankfully the hood of his cloak was up and the cloak was covering his armour.

"Are you intending to create one? You are dressed rather unusually." One of the people in Silver declared.

"And I'm finding you rather ready for a fight. I'm not interested in a forty-to-one beatdown."

"Enough. I am Lady Kima of Vord, Paladin of Bahamut and I apologise on behalf of the Platinum Temple here in Vasselheim."

"Lady Kima, thank you." Neville lowered his hood.

"Neville Longbottom at your service; Paladin of the Raven Queen…is there a temple to her here? I am also extremely lost and separated from my party…the majority of whom are also Servants of the Raven Queen, there's a Champion, a Cleric, Myself and a Warlock."

The blatant admission of the Raven Queen had the potentially heated situation turn to one of cold intensity "Then how did you get through the protections of the Fractured and United City?" Growled one of the Druid contingent members.

Neville turned "No ibloodydea. Alright, I'm dealing with Bahamut's supporters…who else? I'm not exactly up to date with all the religions."

"I'm liking your jib, Paladin. I am Desir; I am the Dawn Marshal in Training of Kord, I am a Monk. The servants of Kord, here in Vasselheim are more Monks than anything else."

Neville nodded "Good to meet you Dawn Marshal-in-Training."

"Erathis."
"Melora."

These clipped responses made Neville, wish Vel was here. The Half-Elf would have retorted with some jab or jibe that would have insulted them; sensing the situation was in hand the followers of Erathis and Melora departed.

"Well, that was annoying. Anyway, I think two Plane Shifts were used and my party scattered."

"Do you have any ideas where they went?" Kima asked curiously "I could potentially assist you in getting to one of them."

"Roshana…I think, Ank something or other, Rumble crusp/ Rumble Cusp, Draconia and West…"

Kima looked like she wanted slam her head against a brick wall. "Time to throw Vel under the Applecart. "There's a bit more to this that I feel requires alcohol."

Kima groaned "Yes…then Longbottom, you had best explain your party already feels like another adventuring party I'm familiar with…by the name of Vox Machina."

Neville groaned "My friend Vel'ilstaer, his parents are Vax and Keyleth…" He was caught off guard as Kima began dragging him towards the nearest tavern.

Soon enough after a refreshingly cool pint of ale, tasted faintly of lemons and limes but it went down so good "Okay. Roshana is on Wildemount; there's bad blood between Ozthanzia, where you are now and Wildemount. Lots of bad blood going back at least two millennia, so that's a no go…that one there is out of luck. I've not heard of Rumblecusp so I'm sorry there. Ank… is Ank'Harel, relations are…tense; I could get you there but 'rescuing a friend' isn't the best way, especially if they landed like you did. Draconia is currently under the thumb of a White Dragon…"

"White Dragon? What's one of those?"

Kima's head hit the table; Neville took the point to get to the bar and come back with four flagons of ale "Yes, I'm that new here. Skip the White Dragon bit. Now, West…"

"Westrunn is suffering a Black Dragon problem. Like the White Dragon, but only Black and probably much worse. Now, I can get you to Whitestone and from there; you can get directions to Westrunn…In fact your best bet would be to go to Whitestone, help about there and your friend should return."

Neville thanked Kima, who after consuming the other two flagons briefly gave Neville a rundown on Exandria from her own view.

(Westrunn)

The free-falling was not what Vel'ilstaer wanted. The homing beacon of the Death Stalker Ward was amazing, his connection to the Raven Queen was much stronger here than where he'd been.

As he spiralled down towards the ground, he straightened out. "You, need not fear the decent. Straighten your body, and think emerge." As the word crossed his mind a billowing cocoon of raven feathers emerged and his wings materialised.

As he glided down, he spied three figures: one a goliath, another had bright red hair and the other blonde. "Aunt Grog, Aunt Pike and…mother?" A grin crossed his face as he banked, crossing the sun and giving the group time to notice him.

"Well here goes." With that he turned, dived and began to level out into what would hopefully be a sort of gentle jog to the group. Except, Vel'ilstaer was able to take off and fly, landing…not so much.

(Vox Machina)

"Pike, Keyleth…INCOMING!" Thundered Grog as their opponent flew towards them; they watched as he jerked upwards, fell, tried to slow himself down only to faceplant and then roll towards them. He landed face up, just in front of Grog.

"Who are you?"

"Hey, Grog…Aunt Pike, Hey Mom…sorry for the bad first entrance. I'm…"

Keyleth dropped her staff as she crouched next to him "Vel'ilstaer? Is that you?"

Vel looked up at his mom and grinned "Yeah…sorry to drop in."