11/03/2021 The Cold Teeth of Winter. Faust Greyheart
Mar 13, 2021 10:35:38 GMT
Jamie J and Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed like this
Post by WillJ on Mar 13, 2021 10:35:38 GMT
Maggie,
It has been a hard week. My old bones are aching from a long journey and the sort of cold that only a wintery mountain can bring. More than that though, my soul aches. I saw a mother die and a child orphaned, and it has left a shadow over me. You know I have spent my life trying to open my heart and in doing so it appears I have been the architect of my own weakness. If this is what the adventuring life brings it forces me to ask the question of whether my new-found path is something I can endure. Does the good outweigh the pain?
I met with a team of cartographers in the Academy here; a wonderful place of learning. The team that had assembled to assist was another motley collection of unusual characters. The world is clearly bigger and more varied than we were exposed to back home. Here no one looks askance at me or the elf with silver-blue skin, the Barbarian with a frankly ridiculous number of axes or the white-scaled dragonborn who stood beside me. It is a refreshing change, since leaving the Greycloaks I have been glancing over my shoulder. Keeping my gold close and putting a chair against the door when I sleep. Here, in Kantas, that seems unnecessary. So many of the issues on the sword coast seem not to have made it over the water. It is a more welcoming place.
The map makers requested our assistance in confirming the presence of a white dragon in the Sunset spines. We agreed and after an odd encounter with a man named Bruce headed to the peaks. I still enjoy being on the road; the time to talk to my companions and hear their tales. The knowledge they can share and their life experiences. The evenings were filled with music and frivolities, the nights with a watchful eye to the woods. The approaching mountains were wreathed in storm and our Dragonborn friend Anwyn was on edge. I couldn't know what was about to follow, but it unsettled me greatly.
The storm continued until the morning we began to ascend into the foothills. As we climbed higher and higher, it became apparent that my old dinner jacket is not cut out for colder weather. Nether-the-less we continued upwards. Finding the remnants of a great battle. We kept onwards, nervous but drawn by our curiosity and the pain Anwyn was feeling. We are not the heroes of Kantas, still new to the adventuring life. Who were we to venture into a Dragon's lair?
Steeling ourselves we inched into a large cave and found a dying dragon, massive, dangerous and angry. Adventurers had come to take her treasure hoard. Fought and killed for gold. The blood and ice mixed on the floor. Even this close to death it could have overpowered us. We would not have stood a chance. Lacking options and seeing Anwyn the creature entrusted us with its offspring. Charging us to bring it to another dragon to raise. Her death throes brought a furious storm and wracked my mind with pain. The little dragon, no larger than my two hands was distressed knowing that it was being taken from its mother. I spared it having to see the end but it understood what was happening. My heart breaks even remembering its tiny cries.
Our journey back had a more sombre tone. Less music and quieter talk. We took it in turn to carrying little Phazwahr, still too young to move far by itself. In all my long years I had not until this week seen a dragon, before we made it back to Daring Heights a massive Bronze dragon took my count to three. It transpires a member of the team who had set us on this path at the academy was in fact this majestic beast before us. He would take care of Phazwahr, raise him and see him safe. I hope he is taken far away from those who would hunt him for gold or glory.
I sit here, back in the Fair Winds. Cold and frustrated. So much of what has happened over the last 5 days troubles me. I need sleep.
It has been a hard week. My old bones are aching from a long journey and the sort of cold that only a wintery mountain can bring. More than that though, my soul aches. I saw a mother die and a child orphaned, and it has left a shadow over me. You know I have spent my life trying to open my heart and in doing so it appears I have been the architect of my own weakness. If this is what the adventuring life brings it forces me to ask the question of whether my new-found path is something I can endure. Does the good outweigh the pain?
I met with a team of cartographers in the Academy here; a wonderful place of learning. The team that had assembled to assist was another motley collection of unusual characters. The world is clearly bigger and more varied than we were exposed to back home. Here no one looks askance at me or the elf with silver-blue skin, the Barbarian with a frankly ridiculous number of axes or the white-scaled dragonborn who stood beside me. It is a refreshing change, since leaving the Greycloaks I have been glancing over my shoulder. Keeping my gold close and putting a chair against the door when I sleep. Here, in Kantas, that seems unnecessary. So many of the issues on the sword coast seem not to have made it over the water. It is a more welcoming place.
The map makers requested our assistance in confirming the presence of a white dragon in the Sunset spines. We agreed and after an odd encounter with a man named Bruce headed to the peaks. I still enjoy being on the road; the time to talk to my companions and hear their tales. The knowledge they can share and their life experiences. The evenings were filled with music and frivolities, the nights with a watchful eye to the woods. The approaching mountains were wreathed in storm and our Dragonborn friend Anwyn was on edge. I couldn't know what was about to follow, but it unsettled me greatly.
The storm continued until the morning we began to ascend into the foothills. As we climbed higher and higher, it became apparent that my old dinner jacket is not cut out for colder weather. Nether-the-less we continued upwards. Finding the remnants of a great battle. We kept onwards, nervous but drawn by our curiosity and the pain Anwyn was feeling. We are not the heroes of Kantas, still new to the adventuring life. Who were we to venture into a Dragon's lair?
Steeling ourselves we inched into a large cave and found a dying dragon, massive, dangerous and angry. Adventurers had come to take her treasure hoard. Fought and killed for gold. The blood and ice mixed on the floor. Even this close to death it could have overpowered us. We would not have stood a chance. Lacking options and seeing Anwyn the creature entrusted us with its offspring. Charging us to bring it to another dragon to raise. Her death throes brought a furious storm and wracked my mind with pain. The little dragon, no larger than my two hands was distressed knowing that it was being taken from its mother. I spared it having to see the end but it understood what was happening. My heart breaks even remembering its tiny cries.
Our journey back had a more sombre tone. Less music and quieter talk. We took it in turn to carrying little Phazwahr, still too young to move far by itself. In all my long years I had not until this week seen a dragon, before we made it back to Daring Heights a massive Bronze dragon took my count to three. It transpires a member of the team who had set us on this path at the academy was in fact this majestic beast before us. He would take care of Phazwahr, raise him and see him safe. I hope he is taken far away from those who would hunt him for gold or glory.
I sit here, back in the Fair Winds. Cold and frustrated. So much of what has happened over the last 5 days troubles me. I need sleep.
