|Last Updated||2017-09-27 08:25:54 - Update|
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Episode #16: To Elturel!
Anthar Froom, paladin of Torm, colleague of his
the black network
The zhentarim - organized crim affiliate - evil mercenaries
A pair of black antlers
Leosin gasped and pointed at the egg. A single jagged line appeared down the middle of it, and spread all around. There was some movement inside, a wiggling, subtle at first. Then it split down the middle and the egg yawned open like an alligator's jaws.
Huddled inside was a silvery form that slowly got up an all four shaking legs, tiny claws grasping the straw around it for purchase. Slowly it spread it's beautiful silver wings behind and above it, then furled them close again. It's eyes had been closed, now they opened, looking around unfocused. Seeing the human forms around it, it raised up on its hind legs, which seemed to be growing stronger by the minute. Wings unfurled once again. Looking one by one at the people around it, jaws open, tiny sharp teeth are seen, and then the little beast emits an ear splitting shriek that seems to rattle the glass of the tavern.
Foluwa, as disarming as he can, approaches the wyrmling, while pulling rations from his pack.|
"It will be hungry. We must fetch it something fresh."
Foluwa and Luther approach the wyrmling, slowly, carefully so as not to startle the creature.
Arobyn and Whisper stare in awe, speechless.
Foluwa produces some meat jerkey from his pack and offers it to the beast while Luther places some water in his cupped hands for it to drink. Foluwa makes odd cooing noises only a druid could produce. The dragon snaps at the meat ration and gobbles it down, then sips from the water in Luther's hand. Luther's hand feels cold, so cold. The wyrmling's breath is freezing. Rising up and spreading its wings again, it looks pointedly at Foluwa, and screeches again, even louder.
Leosin breaks out of his reverie.
"Meat! Yes at once I will go check the larder" he rushes off, backing away, eyes never leaving the dragon.
It is at this point you notice that all sounds of laughter and merriment from the tavern have come to an end. There is the sound of booming footsteps as you hear Onthar Frume rushing outside.
"Lord of all things what is that terrible racket?!" he booms.
Luther steps forward, "They are brothers, yes but I would not give a newborn babe to a bunch of drunkards, no matter how nice they were, so I will not here either."
"I made a vow. I will keep it Foluwa. We need to find its mother or kin."
"I will make them understand , some way..."
Whisper's voice can be heard, though the elf is unseen. "All right then, we are agreed: the first one to attempt to take the wyrmling gets an arrow through the throat."
Whisper melts into the shadows, her bow at the ready.
Arobyn turns and faces the incoming crown, led by Frume, the burly paladin.
Foluwa and Luther care for the dragonling, Luther giving it more water to sip at and Foluwa feeding it some more rations.
Onthar Frume barrels out the door into the courtyard that opens into the stables. He is followed by ten of his henchmen and squires. He stares in silence, then explodes: "BY THE LIGHT OF ALL TORM SINGS THROUGH THE ETHERLIGHT INTO ALL THAT IS HOLY IN THE REALM OF... IS THAT A BABY DRAGON?!?!"
Leosin can be seen returning with a plate full of uncooked meat.
Foluwa quickly steps between Whisper and the paladins, afraid that she may misinterpret the situation, and looks to Luther.
"Easy now... Let us not startle it."
The Wyrmling is startled by the paladin's loud words, and screeches in fear. It beats its little wings once and leaps onto Luther's arm, claws digging painfully into his flesh.
Onthar, seeing his effect on the little beast, tones it down to a whisper.
"Why. Is. There. A. Dragon. In. My. Stable?" he asks pointedly. Then he whispers in awe "oh, it's a silver!"
He bows down low, soon to be followed by his henchmen. "What a beautiful beast."
"They liberated it from the cave at the cultist camp, there was a hatchery there. Rezmir left them behind because they were about to hatch."
Leosin fills Frume in. "They also destroyed Langdedrosa Cyanwrath and Frulam Mondath in the process. They have found out the loot is heading north, likely through Baldur's gate"
Onthar whispers, "What shall we do with this exquisite creature? Who else know about this?"
We shall do exactly the same thing we would do if we found a defenseless child in the wild, alone...|
Find the mother...
Onthar notices Arobyn standing in the way and looks him in the eye for a moment. A small nod.
"Boys, back to the Tavern, this is not our affair." They start to file out with several awed backward glances.
He stands and leans forward conspiratorially. "Those are my men, but I cannot guarantee word of this won't leak out. I will keep them all within my sight for tonight. We will meet on the morrow. Then you need to go."
Leosin hands over the meat tray to Luther and Foluwa, who take turns feeding the little dragon, who soon has filled its belly and looks around for somewhere to rest. It is clinging to Luther and rubbing noses on Foluwa.
Whisper is nowhere to be seen.
Arobyn is still standing with his hands on his swords, sure there is someone else out there to be paranoid about.
Finally the Wymrling curls up in the cart to sleep. It maintains contact with both Foluwa and Luther, frequently opening one eye to make sure one of the two men stays close by.
Leosin says "We have much to discuss."
Leosin nods at Whisper, "This perhaps I can help with. As you may or may not know, I am a member of the Harper's.
"Onthar is a member of the Order of the Gauntlet."
"The Harper's network stretches far and wide, if anyone can find out more about this wyrmling's mother or where it can be properly raised, it is us. By your leave, on the morrow I will start probing our networks for information. An unhatched egg is almost priceless as you can imagine. But a hatched dragon is of almost no worth to nefarious organizations so I think you should be safe here.
Regarding the Dragon Cult and it's activities at this point, you know almost as much about it as we do, and thanks to you, we know twice as much today as we did a tenday ago. Something rotten is afoot. We have no formal organization to oppose these rascals' not yet anyway. We're working on that. And we need people like you, who know how and when to fight, and how and when to keep their heads down and observe. We can't promise you anything except long days filled with danger and stress' but what could be better than that, eh?"
"We know that the loot convoy has to head through Baldur's gate to go North, so we propose that you get attached to this convoy and go North with it, perhaps getting hired on as guards, or making your own cart and pretending to be merchants. Our resources and contacts can help in this. Whisper speaks truth in that carrying around a baby Silver dragon will make this mission impossible."