Dream-Maker Part 2: Of Dragons and Fangs by Noct | World Anvil

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Fri 28th Aug 2020 06:34

Dream-Maker Part 2: Of Dragons and Fangs

by Noct

As our afternoon nap came to an end, the Dream-Maker and I prepared for our nightly outting. The veil of darkness had began to embrace the outskirts of the Shar and Qesrir looked as well-groomed as we did in it. Bellamy's faceplate took on a gleaful expression as we met with out newfound companions outside the lodge, all looking quite proper for the occassion. Our thoughts left violence trailing behind our footsteps, so that we may return to our grim past at a later moment. Even the voice was quiet, perhaps something was keeping it busy inside my mind. Teremun, The Son Of Rock, had already lost himself in an abyss of food related thoughts, his face, almost rectangular in shape, shifting to a more square form each time he smiled to himself. Pari, The Owl, was already speeding ahead of us, swift in her promise to attend a stand of the noble lady that aided us in our entry of the town. Her choice of attire was questionable, though as I was informed before, these lands have different tastes to what I am accustomed to. Perhaps this speaks volumes of my previous life! A cleric most devout, who would reprimand all that he deemed to be provocative?! Or perhaps... I am just extremely old fashioned. Vurak was quiet, as he always was, scheming, planning his next great invention atop the Son Of Rock's shoulders. His perfectly smoothened and solid shoulders were at the appropriate height for the both of them to stand straight up and miss by less than a feather's width the strange rope that connected the many poles around the market. Food was abundant and splendid, the little creatures that had been turned to shashlik still screaming in despair through the veil of death... Yet none could hear it as clearly as I could, one so well versed in what lies in the most horrible of places, creatures as despicable as I.
The evening was full of moments of happiness and fun, time well spent with the heroes I have come to call friends... Yet an evil omen foretold great suffering soon to come. As I perused the stands of many salesmen, I witnessed an old lady selling the finest of silks, with a pair of knitting needles resting before her. What I could only describe as the most shady of Elven figures, approached the old lady and bought said needles, leaving behind a menacing aura, as if the letters of the word themselves floated in hues of purple and blue behind her the moment she departed. Clarity struck my mind as I bought the finest of silks from the old lady, inquiring of the menacing Elf. An unknown figure to all, yet someone to be traced. I have this strange desire to commission her to fashion something for me. Perhaps it is the voice who asked it of me. With the omen of great suffering now past, it was Teremun, from his great height, who spotted something wrong, something terrible approaching. Figures laid bare in the shadows around the market, crawling and skulking, seeking out their prey. "Hmmm" the Son Of Rock said, immediately notifying us of the threat. Suddenly, a loud roar, agonizing screams and a loud crash, accompanied the birth of chaos around us. A gigantic dragon, grossly oversized and made of dancing blight, fell from the skies and attacked everyone in the vicinity. Without another word, I gritted my teeth and charged for the beast, bravery filling my heart as the Dream-Maker stood behind me. "Stop Noct, this is trickery!" said the Dream-Maker. To my surprise, I was the only one charging the foul beast. Why? How? It was simple. The dragonic creature before me was the result of a spell! Everyone else was already aware of this and found no reason to attack it, for it was impervious to attack! They spread out, seeking the evil spellcaster behind this beast of the arcane! What a fool Noct is to fall for such a simple trick! With great shame now creeping inside my already weak will, I retreated and followed after the Dream-Maker, for he is a hero without equal and knew best what to do. His eyes had already managed to pick up the movement of many of the crawling shadows around us, revealed to be evil men and women of a group most foul, later revealed to be known as the Black Fang. However, this is a story for another time, for combat was upon us.
Glorious battle was joined! Bellamy was single-handedly decimating the army that was crashing upon us, while my meager aid was merely giving him the stamina to continue fighting. With our heroic group split up in search of the evil mage who conjured this beast, I was only able to witness the Dream-Maker's struggle, as more and more vile men and women poured forth from the edges of the market to attack him. With martial skill of legendary status, all were disarmed and made of little threat by the master swordsman by my side. Alas, it was my faulty skills that once again became a roadblock for us, leading to the death of all Bellamy managed to incapacitate. With no captives to interrogate, we had to wait for the others to come bearing news. The Owl soon arrived with naught but tales of dead men. I set out to find Teremun, surely the Son Of Rock would be able to capture one of them alive using his famed "Strikes Of A Thousand Triangulations", separating the enemy formation in such a way that at least one would be left behind. To nobody's surprise, he did indeed perform this deed, returning with a captive for us to question later. Vurak was not at all late himself, covered in the blood of his enemies, most likely destroying them by employing technology entirely unknown to this world. The captive soon rose, speaking madness and evil, words the pure heroes before me could not understand. One name stood out however, leading us to our next clue. Hemlock. Repeating this three times, the vile man exploded in arcane magic, which would have wiped all non-heroic creatures out were it not for the timely intervention of the Son Of Rock's granite frame, shielding us from the magic that poured out. However, regardless of his best efforts, I, being a creature of no virtue or ability, lost much of my ability to remember what came next, other than the warm bed waiting for me at Talima's lodge. I am sure that tomorrow, Bellamy and the other heroes will learn more of what is going on, while I recover.