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Brin Glidrask's town was burnt to the ground by a black dragon in front of him. Being a bowyer his entire life he had become quite proficient in the use and crafting of such items. He was a pillar of the community and his business brought in travelers to the small town. As the beast attacked, Brin stepped out of his little shop notched an arrow and drew. The perfect shot was mere seconds from being lined up when he heard the snap and felt the sting on his face. The bow string ripped through the nock rocketing the string into his cheek leaving a thin red mark. He looked down in disbelief at the useless days of hard work broken in his hand. The string still notched into the arrow fluttered violently as the dragon's wings blew hot wind past the stunned bowyer. He barely flinched as the heat singed his leather vest and blackened the exposed sleeves of his white cotton shirt decimating his once proud establishment. Why had it broken? It didn't make any sense. The wood had been hand picked out of the Snakewood by that ranger Klevlin. It just didn't add up.
Lalah had to leave the protection of the High Forest. The decision was her own choosing, yes, but if the others knew what she knew they would send her away anyway. It was the honorable thing to do. The shade of the Star Mounts seemed colder as the sun began to rise over the highest of the snow cover peaks. The Grandfather Tree would be in the warm of the sun already. The children would be playing and the smells of morning fires with tea pots boiling would be warming those close enough to feel them in the early morning air. Krill would be cold though. There was no doubt of that. He had always hated the cold, she remembered him sneaking over to her bed when they were kids, toting his woolen blanket to combine it with hers to warm them both enough to sleep peacefully during the cold nights. She stopped walking and looked down at her feet as she adjusted the pack on her back. A long sigh ripped from her mouth and shuddered sob broke free with it.
Brin was busy testing the flex on a branch of elven wood. Lalah found him hanging upside down with his legs curled around a large branch. He grabbed a branch the size of his forearm with both hands, bent it, then moving onto the next. A twig snapped under her foot and before she could blink the ranger had an arrow notched and pointed at her, slowly rocking back and forth under the residual momentum of his actions.
They traveled together after that. Him stopping from time to time to check tracks, smell the air, find them food. Her with a nose shoved in a book, cutting something open, or mixing gods knew what. They had one goal in mind, though each had their own reasons for reaching that goal.
The cult took good care of them. Sure you had to pretend to be crazy about Tiamat, and put up with some odd behavior, but they both felt they were on the right track to accomplish the goals they set out for. Neither of them foresaw a direct attack on Naerytar though, who would be crazy enough to trudge through the bog. If these attackers could get them closer to dragons, would it be worth helping them. The two had no allegiance to the cultists and had more than enough to offer this group for their help. With a knowing nod they stepped out and attacked the cultists from their flank. As the arrow and spell riddled bodies crumpled on the floor, Brin and Lalah locked eyes with the party for the first time.
Lalah had to leave the protection of the High Forest. The decision was her own choosing, yes, but if the others knew what she knew they would send her away anyway. It was the honorable thing to do. The shade of the Star Mounts seemed colder as the sun began to rise over the highest of the snow cover peaks. The Grandfather Tree would be in the warm of the sun already. The children would be playing and the smells of morning fires with tea pots boiling would be warming those close enough to feel them in the early morning air. Krill would be cold though. There was no doubt of that. He had always hated the cold, she remembered him sneaking over to her bed when they were kids, toting his woolen blanket to combine it with hers to warm them both enough to sleep peacefully during the cold nights. She stopped walking and looked down at her feet as she adjusted the pack on her back. A long sigh ripped from her mouth and shuddered sob broke free with it.
Brin was busy testing the flex on a branch of elven wood. Lalah found him hanging upside down with his legs curled around a large branch. He grabbed a branch the size of his forearm with both hands, bent it, then moving onto the next. A twig snapped under her foot and before she could blink the ranger had an arrow notched and pointed at her, slowly rocking back and forth under the residual momentum of his actions.
They traveled together after that. Him stopping from time to time to check tracks, smell the air, find them food. Her with a nose shoved in a book, cutting something open, or mixing gods knew what. They had one goal in mind, though each had their own reasons for reaching that goal.
The cult took good care of them. Sure you had to pretend to be crazy about Tiamat, and put up with some odd behavior, but they both felt they were on the right track to accomplish the goals they set out for. Neither of them foresaw a direct attack on Naerytar though, who would be crazy enough to trudge through the bog. If these attackers could get them closer to dragons, would it be worth helping them. The two had no allegiance to the cultists and had more than enough to offer this group for their help. With a knowing nod they stepped out and attacked the cultists from their flank. As the arrow and spell riddled bodies crumpled on the floor, Brin and Lalah locked eyes with the party for the first time.