Through Tainted Skies
Twenty-Fourth Day of the Sixth Month 293 AC
The Doom lies upon Valyria like an ashen veil, guarding against sight past and present, and the screams of the dying echo in every answer you hear, yet hear them you do loud and sharp, vivid in ways that will haunt your nightmares that weigh upon the soul and the mind.
Grotesques of burnt scrimshaw fly through tainted skies, once simple messengers of the dragonlords now haunted by the broken souls of their makers, bound to protect the Aedil's last message to Old Valyria, the final words of the seers atop their twisting spire. What secrets it might hold not even prophecy can tell...
"I would say that given the nature of the Lyceos and those who dwelt therein the message was likely some warning of what was to come," Malarys muses.
"Never knowing that it would do no good, that the gods knew, perhaps their servants also, and could do nothing," Dany shivers, though not due to cold as she delivers this grim proclamation. "Can you imagine being in their place, to see the death of thousands upon thousands of men, women, and children, kith and kin, yet be unable to to turn it aside even an inch?"
"I can't nor do I wish to, but alas I can imagine all too well what might be birthed from such horror," you sigh, turning your questions towards the three seers in the tower: one a traitor, the second a murderer, and the last falling to despair in the hour of his bitter 'triumph'.
What you had feared you find in truth. The dead haunt the apex of the power, the power of their curse shrouding it from sight save for a last bleak riddle:
"Burning eyes unable to close, tangled throats unable to speak, broken minds trapped in twisting coils."
"We will give it to them in the end," Naeron proclaims with a certainty of his very being as all around the table you and your companions nod in agreement. That you came for treasure and lore you will not deny, but you will do what you can to lay to rest the dead and the damned.
Last of all you ask if any others had dared the journey to Lyceos and what they may have taken from the ruins. The answer you receive is stranger than you might have hoped, though more hopeful than you had feared.
"Ash raker, sword breaker, shade taker, yet he lies before the gilded door, pride now stemmed by humblest hands..."
"Ash raker could be anything to do with flame, swords break from the most common of causes." Malarys ponders aloud. "Yet not many things steal shades. Perhaps something like the fey you bargained with, Your Grace...?"
"The heart of the matter there is bargained. I do not think it could have taken my shadow in that manner. The soul is not lightly parted..."
"Rakshasa," Lya half-whispers. "They come from under the Shadow, from the lands of ash, slavers of souls and prideful beyond measure. Who knows for how many centuries one of them might have lingered in Lyceos seeking some mighty weapon, particularly if we are right and this is a weapon the gods themselves fear."
***
So armed with knowledge as much as steel and sorcery you take flight, following the barren shore of the Sea of Sighs where the poisoned waters lap upon crumbling shores. Beyond you can at times glimpse the light of campfires from the hardy and stubborn shepherds and trappers that make Rumbling Hills their home. Naeron tells you that some of these lands are at least in part claimed by Mantarys, though the hand of the city lies lightly indeed upon them. Offers of trade and the odd patrol in force by daring guardsmen always led by one of the archon warriors are enough for the locals to faintly acknowledge that 'golden wings are better than black.'
The saying is rather telling for what comes from the south, from the wild lands where the sun drips blood red even in midday and the leaves of the trees turn grey as ash. More than once you hear shrill haunting screeches in the distance. Mereth reports things that might have once been birds now made enormous and malformed. Curious, you sweep briefly away from the group to shadow one of these beasts. Something about the uneven joining of avian and draconic forms makes fire rise in your throat on sheer instinct.
This should not be...
In any lands save this they
would not be, you know. You can feel the twisted magics further south sliding onto your scales like a second sun, like a bitter taste upon the tongue.
"You and your sisters want to hunt that thing?" It is barely a question, for you have seen the way Mereth marked the beast.
"I have never seen its like yet it seems a worthy quarry, a way to hone ourselves for the battles ahead," she replies. After a brief pause she adds, "Perhaps your consort might even learn something of worth by carving up the carcass."
Before answering you bid Varys to see if the creature has any mind to speak of, something she does with a hiss of annoyance for your familiar has no more love of this thing than you.
"It's just barely smarter than a hawk but vicious and mad..." As though the words had been some sign the monster turns dirty-yellow eyes upon you and with a screech of fury it hurls itself towards you, though it is barely half your size.
Mereth seems to take it for a challenge: "Keep it off the king, keep it pinned!"
Black arrows fly, a deadly rain from ashen skies as curse upon curse is cast upon the quarry's head. Tormented and bedeviled the thing lunges this way and that, unable to come to grips with the more nimble Erinyes as they duck and weave beneath the branches of knotted trees. The thing spits waves of sickly yellow flame, but again and again the furies weave away. Finally it manages to pin Mereth to the ground of a dry gully just as one of her sisters strikes the final blow.
Gained Giant Half-Dragon Blood Hawk Corpse (Advanced to 12 HD)
As you fly over to look at the kill you notice something gleaming in its talon, a talisman of gold set with three eyes: One open, one half closed, and one lidded shut, the symbol of Syrax.
Another sign from the dead goddess? you wonder, a chill running down your spine. Was it meant to show you are on the right path or direct you to find wherever this thing had made its nest first?
What do you do?
[] Continue on to Lyceos
[] Try to find the nest first
[] Write in
OOC: I hope the atmosphere holds up.