Session 65: Driven
General Summary
Having made introduction to Sofia and Syr Galindann and secured more camels, the group moves off, pushing through into the morning and resting through the day. Come the next evening we continue under Orin's guidance to search for the desert nomad, but during the night we spot dragon wings far away on the horizon in the direction we are bound. Orin is forced to change course to the east. Gemris and Morthak discuss their age, their goals, and whether, given the chance, Morthak would want to return from the dead at Gemris' hands. One evening, when Morthak has stepped away from the others at camp, Zitonai appears to Mothak. The two of them began to play a game of truths.
Morthak asked questions of the dragons return. Zitonai revealed that she was angered by the betrayal at Pelenspayar, a betrayal of their birthright to dominate the world. Zitonai revealed that dragons were destined to be the true owners of the world, and now they have returned. She also revealed that three dragons had fled Pelenspayar - little did she know two of them were already dead by the hands of members of this group. Zitonai pressed Morthak on how she might kill her friends, and why she clung to the spirits of her dead tribe. After questions were exchange, the illusion of Zitonai crumbled into scintillating azure sand which blew away on the desert wind, and Morthak returned to camp to inform the others.
Under Orin’s advice we start moving again with urgency, as Zitonai clearly knew where we were. As we continued it became apparent that we were being herded off more to the east than to the north-east where we were bound. With little other option we make for the canyons ahead where we suspected an ambush lay in wait.
As we debated our next move there was a thunderous sound from behind us as one of the great Erg Worms of the Howling Sands erupted from the surface, driving us frantically into the canyon. As it narrowed Gemris cast a web of thorns behind herself, driving the beast under the sand once more. But by this time the canyon was widening. There was a bellow behind us as Zitonai heself swept in, wings spread, blasting a bolt of lightning at rocks which tumbled behind is, sealing our way back and forcing us onwards.
We emerged onto a wide canyon floor, the walls lined with her lizardfolk army raining attacks from above. Skulk led the way across dodging sinkholes and warning the others. Some followed, but others did not. Sofia and Phaes, mounted on a camel, suddenly disappeared as the desert floor beenath them collapsed and they fell into the burrowed tunnels below. Seeing the danger, Morthak shielded Mylla with her body before Dimension Dooring away, to where we are not sure. Gemris used her tree-staff to scale the canyon walls and began to lay about herself in combat, knocking one unfortunate lizardfolk warrior to the ground, until she was overcome, a shaman causing her armour to burn red hot while another warrior charhed her, knocking her over the edge of the canyon and back to the ground with it's shield. Seeing no other respite, she dived down the hole in the sand one of the lizardfolk had punched to seek shelter.
By the end of the canyon only Skulk and Sir Galyndann were still around. The Erg Worm erupted from the sand to the north of them, towering over them, and with Syr Galyndann reeling after bearing the brunt of a lightning bolt from the dragon, they decided to dive into the nearest hole into the caverns below to escape her wrath. It is here where we find ourselves, beneath the surface of the desert. And beneath the surface, something is moving...
Maps
Thunderglass Canyon
Notable Dialogue
Morthak felt a blast of hot breath on her neck, and Zitonai's low growling voice from behind her uttered: "I'd hoped we might be able to have a little talk." Morthak hiked up her pants, before turning around and facing the dragon, outwardly unflinching. "Well, that's all we were asking for." On a prehensile neck, snaking it's way down the ridge before her, Zitonai's massive, craggy snout paused, sniffing slightly, cerulean blue eyes narrowing. The rest of her body was flattened atop the ridge. "I'll admit," she continued, "You were not an easy group to find." "Well, you're probably as old as I am," rejoindered Morthak. "The eyes probably aren't as good as they once were." Zitonai laughed, a deep, crackling chuckle, a wash of hot air blasting over Morthak's face, smelling of ozone. "I have many years ahead of me," Zitonai replied. "But you though... Death clings to you. I can smell it. I remember the days when one of your age would have died gloriously in battle. You bring shame to your people, with your very existence." Morthak cocked her head. "You see, I am not like others," she replied. "I haven't become decrepit in my age, as you are. I can see some cracked scales there that might attest to that." Zitonai's gaze twitched downwards. "How's your shoulder, then?" she rumbled ominously. "As good as my knee. You know, just battle scars." Zitonai growled. "It has been some time since I faced anything in battle that I would characterised as... a challenge. But you and your ilk... you provided that. I have questions. Perhaps we could talk, 'ere we meet again." "Just myself, or would you like me to go grab the others so we can sit around the campfire and have a chat?" Morthak asked. "No need to involve the others. I'd hate to place them in any sort of danger. Especially the girl. Not much of a morsel really, but she seems to mean something to you." Morthak nodded slowly. "Some of the things she's done, I don't think I want her in your belly. You never know what might happen." Zitonai's jowls drew back into a grin. "A game, perhaps," she rumbled. "A game of truthtelling. I sense you have questions. It is only natural for the lesser races to wonder at the glory of dragonkind." Morthak frowned. "I was wondering if we could just skip the bullshit, and have a normal conversation. No games, no mysteries. Just straight down the line." "Where is your sense of fun, Goliath?” Zitonai grumbled. "I'm too old for fun." "You're never too old for fun. But very well. If you want to skip the bullshit I am amenable to that. A question for a question. I will answer truthfully. But if I sense any dissembling, the game is over." Morthak nodded in agreement, before replying: "What happened at Pelenspayar? How did you all escape?" "The ancient pact was broken. As it should have been generations ago. Pelenspayar was a betrayal, of all dragonkind. But the lesser races can no longer keep us penned in, like herd beasts. We attacked and we prevailed. That is what happened at Pelenspayar. My turn. The delver woman, that you travel with. If you were forced to kill her, how would you do it?” For the first time, Morthak looked taken aback for a moment, before recovering her composure. "Well, I doubt I would be forced to kill her. She is one of the most beautiful souls I have met out here. But if the worst came to the worst then, this war pick here would probably be buried in the back of her head." "I watched her drag every one of you through that battle. I do not believe that mere steel would be sufficient." Zitonai rumbled. "Like I said, it probably would never happen. But that would be my choice. Quick and clean. And that's too many questions. Now it's my turn," retorted Morthak. Zitonai chuckled. "No sense of fun, Goliath. Very well. Ask your question." "How many of you broke out?" "We were three in number. But more will come. Why do you cling to the spirits of your dead tribe?" Zitonai probed. "They're not dead. Next question. The three who escaped... Who were the other two?" Zitonai paused. "Some of them are. The spirits that you call on to guide your magics. Why did you leave those that are living, and bring those that are dead with you?” "My old position in the tribe was to carry the dead and their stories with me everywhere I want. I decided it wasn't time for me to die, and so I carry them everywhere I go. That is part of my role as the Lorekeeper." "Lorekeeper," Zitonai scoffed. "What lore do you keep, Goliath? Your life is like that of an insect, it is gone in a blink. You do not even remember the days of yore, do you?" "I think that was two more questions you asked there. You're getting ahead of yourself." Zitonai rumbled. "Very well. Ask your next question." "The other two. Who were they?" Morthak asked. "You've met one of them." "Thought that might be the case. And the other one?” she continued. "The other I have not heard of in some time. The youngest of our group. She fled to find somewhere more suitable. To re-establish the glory of our kind. But I have little doubt that I have been the most successful." Morthak smiled slightly. "I can almost assure you that you have been." Zitonai glowered at her, before growling: "The human woman, who stole the gem from me, and expended it's magic. Where is she?" "The last I saw her she was heading north." Zitonai's eyes narrowed as she stared at Morthak, before with a huff she spoke again. "A shame. Still. I'm sure when I have finished with you there will be time enough to deal with her as well." "I don't know. She's a slippery one. She can talk your ear off." "Your turn," rumbled Zitonai. "When you said others would come, what did you mean by that?" "Our freedom was taken from us for generations. Our kind was betrayed. But the time has come for us to seize our birthright. We have proved that Pelenspayar can hold us back no more. This world belonged to our kind at the start of time itself. And just because those of our kind who thought they knew better chose to determine the course of our lives - of our entire race - we were penned like beasts. This world was built for us. And the time is coming where we will take possession. What do you seek in this desert?” "We wish to find an old nomad." Morthak replied. "Then I wish you luck on your quest." Suddenly the enormous wings folded on Zitonai's back began to unfurl and spread until, a moment later, her form became translucent, dissolving into a fine shower of blue and gold dust, before being rapidly borne away by the wind.
Session Commenced: The 5th day of Cyt, 1622 TER
Session Concluded: The 8th day of Cyt, 1622 TER
