Aetheria Moonblade's Story

Aetheria awoke and stretched with a laziness well practiced. The sun washed over her like a comforting blanket of warmth, which caused her to stir with a sleepy yawn. Up in a tree, Aetheria had slept on the thickest branch and had not regretted her decision. While the birds chirped to greet the sun, she stretched her muscle and checked her weapons, along with potions, gadgets and anything else she had brought with her on her journey. She covered her mouth with a slender hand and yawned once more, then used her momentum to spin off the branch, using her hands to swing in motion. Birds fluttered from the disturbance by the young elf and twittered with nervous anticipation. Always nimble, the blonde elf landed with a steady footing and watched a little blue bird flutter near her.

She reassured the bird and allowed it to rest on her index finger. It puffed up its chest and ruffled its feathers in agitation, but forgave the exuberant elf. Aetheria giggled and watched him fly off to tend to his nest. She then realized she had rested near the birds family, which would make anyone agitated. The bird chirped back toward her in a friendlier tone, but she waved her goodbye's and headed off on her own.

Trees crested the edge of the path, which comforted the wood elf. All her life, she had grown up amongst the trees, wildlife and rarely experienced the political side of her mother. Aetheria watched the wildlife scurry across the worn path and munched on a handful of berries from a pouch. Her stomach grumbled for something more substantial, but hunger would have to wait. Perhaps a town was just up ahead and she could rest at an Inn, or grab something to eat at a tavern.

In the pathway, Aetheria squinted against the blinding light of the sun and thought she saw a cat. She loved cats! Aetheria shoved the remaining berry into her mouth and picked up pace to investigate the odd creature. It appeared to be by a sleeping being, so she approached with caution. She didn't want to startle the cat and lose her chance to converse with them.

Aetheria tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her pointed right ear and gazed at the cat. She ignored the growl of her stomach and eyed the still form of the man.

"You poor thing! Is this your owner? What happened?" She said in a soft tone and went to investigate the still being for any wounds. "Are you hungry?" Aetheria asked the cat, even though she understood how stubborn cats could be. While she hadn't spoken to a cat yet in all her life, perhaps it could be persuaded with a bit of food. She reached into her other pack and produced beef jerky and laid it on the ground.

The offering was small, but sometimes it was the gesture that gained a creatures trust.

There was some chirping down the path. The black cat perked up. Chirps meant food. Silently the cat waited for the birds to come flitting over the crest, and flit they did, however followed by someone. Sireth blinked and studied her approach.

"He fainted," The cat stated frankly, arching upwards from his place of rest in a stretch. He purred softly and approached the bit of beef jerky. It smelled delicious, what was it cured with? Sireth gnawed it up in half an instant, licked his lips, and sat back on his haunches.

"Thank you, I am hungry, and no the human isn't mine. Thank goodness," Sireth gave his face another big lick, "And who are you?"

Any other rogue would have looted the fainted man, but she felt an obligation to help the cat's human friend. Aetheria smiled toward the cat and beckoned toward him to pet him. She knew that cats enjoyed being petted, but this one might be feral. Birds warned her of the cat, but she waved their presence away. Aetheria was sure the cat could be trusted.

She sat down on a nearby stump covered in moss and began to get her rolled up bandages out and any healing salve that might help. First though, she'd need to wake the person up. Without a second thought, she dug through her sack and found the strong smelling solution. Aetheria waved the solution under the human's nose and waited for the appropriate response. Curious, she studied the fainted human's clothes, but didn't see any important emblem on their garments. She crossed her legs and popped the cork back into the foul smelling vial.

"Would you like more food? I have enough for a few days worth, but I will need to replenish soon." She gazed at Sireth and the fainted being with a smile. "Does he always faint, or did something scary come across his path?" Aetheria waited for the being to stir into full alertness and motioned for the cat to sit on her lap.

Most cats couldn't resist a little pampering.

"I am Aetheria Moonblade. I'm traveling to the next city for supplies." She explained, the cheerfulness in her voice never wavered.

Sireth marched his way forward to enjoy some good old fashioned pets. He hadn't had some of those in a while, and admittedly kind of missed it. Not that he'd ever say that out loud. When the petting was done Sireth settled in to watch the woman attempt to wake the human.

"The next city is up this path, Skyfall Citadel," Sireth squinted skyward as Brishen sputtered to life. The man looked wild eyed at the woman, sneezed a few times, and pulled himself into a sitting position. He stuck a finger in his ear and gave it a good shake. The cat was still talking, wasn't it.

"I'd love some more food," Sireth purred, taking care to step right over Brishen on his way to Aetheria. The man visibly recoiled, moving to take higher ground on the rock Sireth previously occupied before bothering to speak.

"The cat, he talks," Brishen said frankly, almost offended. He didn't always faint, but, "And a man, did you not see him? He fell from the sky, right there-" He pointed to the sky.

At that exact moment thunder clapped across the skies, which opened up to rain. Sireth yelped and burrowed into Aetheria's lap, Brishen stood still with his finger still skyward, on the verge of entering shock. This was just too much for one day, for one wanderer.

"You're awake!" Aetheria exclaimed, content with the man's quick recovery. She helped him sit up and gave him a waterskin with fresh spring water. It should revitalize him, along with a brick of elven bread. It was substantial enough to keep him full for another half day's travel. (Elves did pride themselves in their cooking.) She patted Sireth and reacted in a calm manner to the cat having a full conversation with them. When he mentioned Skyfall Citdael, her elvish ears perked up and twitched. She hadn't been to that city yet! With excitement, she picked up Sirel and nuzzled his nose with her own. It was a strange way of giving thanks for the information, but she did love the company of this particular feline.

"Thanks, little guy! You still haven't told me your name, though!" She bopped the nose of Sireth playfully with her index finger and put him on the ground with a gentleness. Cats didn't like being treated like a plaything, so she knew better than to provoke Sireth's otherwise good nature.

She brushed the cat fur off her clothing and went to aid Brishen. "Are you ok, Sir? What's your name? I'm Aetheria and this is my friend!" Aetheria exclaimed and gestured toward her new cat companion. Sireth had been the most helpful and entertaining. He managed to calm her nerves, while they waited for the man to awaken from his unconscious state.

When Brishen began to express his fear over the cat, Atheria explained the cats nature the best way she could to ease the tension. "He's quite friendly! A little greedy with the food, but most house cats are that way, you know. He has the softest fur! Would you like to pet him? He's a friendly cat. You don't have to worry about him!" Aetheria was a bit naive and accustomed to talking to animals.

She spoke about Sireth, as though he were another human being that joined their company.

Nose nuzzles! It had been too long. While he wasn't too particularly fond of anything in his face, nose nuzzles were a solid exception. Sireth let slip a little snort at the nose boop, and landed in a stretch when he was put down. Yes, this was a good humanoid.

"Sireth," The black cat stated his name with a long purr, marching back to Aetheria to brush against her multiple times.

Brishen, on the other hand, had his jaw nearly to the ground. He still had trouble swallowing the reality of a talking cat; even despite his background living on the edge of the Cursed Wood, on a planet far away.

"I'm...", Brishen began- when suddenly rain began to fall in buckets, with little warning beyond the thunderclap from before. He scrambled for cover under the nearest tree, and Sireth was not soon behind. The cat deftly scaled to a low branch, glaring skyward. The rain made him uncomfortable, but more than usual. It was almost as if something was tugging at the very edge of his presence.

She didn't even get to make a friendly introduction with the man! The rain came down harder on the odd trio and she sprinted for cover with them. Aetheria traveled for the first time on her own, the right of passage a unique one for her family. If she could convince her parents to not take up the family tradition of woodcutting, then she could put her roots somewhere else. She giggled at the raindrops that tickled her nose.

Maybe it was in her genetics, but she felt more alive in nature. Aetheria stepped from hiding and began to dance in the rain, her tongue reached out to taste a few raindrops that fell from the blackened sky. To any other person, she'd look half-crazy, but it was her elven nature getting the better of her. Rain didn't bother her, but welcomed her. She could feel the electricity in the air, as silver streaks sparked across the sky. She didn't have to be educated in why it would bother Brishen, or even Sireth. They weren't like her kind. Her mother explained this fact to her when she was younger. Nature had a way with elves, but it was unnatural and even ethereal.

Aetheria giggled and smoothed down her rain soaked hair, her skin glistened with a newness, her spirit lifted thrice from the experience. She missed home, but this was no time to be homesick! The young half-elf motioned toward her companions.

"Come on, scaredy cats! Last one to reach a tavern, buys the food and drink!" Aetheria exclaimed and giggled into a sprint. If the cat wanted more pets, he'd have to follower her. Likewise, if Brishen wanted company, or explanations, he'd have to follow suit of the strange half-elf.

Skyfall Citadel

The main trading city of Skyfall, bustling with humans, elves, dwarves, dragonkin, and any race which is found on Gaia. It is home to the four Great Temples of Gaia, Eras, Atargatis, and Sagittae; the stars and earth personified as deities by the citizens of Skyfall.

Sireth hated the rain, but didn't fancy standing under the fading cover of a slow soaked tree until it stopped- which didn't seem like it would be anytime soon. He leapt into the rain with a howl. The black cat scampered after Aetheria and did his best to dodge the raindrops.

Brishen, on the other hand, set his pack on the ground and began rummaging through it. He unearthed a threadbare oilcloth and draped it around his head and shoulders. Brishen hurried his way after, almost wishing for the path to be dusty once more.

To Skyfall Citadel!

Like any foreigner, Aetheria looked at the larger buildings with an agap mouth and an expression a young child might share. Onlookers walked past her and some bumped into her, but she didn't act phazed. She felt pity for the cat and cradled him in her arms, desperate to protect him from the rain. The young half-elf shrouded him in her cape and protected him from further rainfall. She was breathless from the beauty of the city and the interesting people that scampered about. Merchants lined the bazaar and the food smelled enticing to the nomad elf. Her ears perked up at the sound of a musician playing on a street corner and the laughter of children running in the street. Aetheria joined some of the children in their games and then left them to admire wares. The jewelry was unlike anything she had seen! Her mother would love one of their exotic necklaces, rings, or earrings, but she didn't have enough coin yet. Her ears drooped at the price tags and she hugged Sireth for some comfort. Jobs were at least posted on public bulletins and she could work here for that sort of price tag.

"Well, Sireth, do you think Brishen wants to join us for a drink?" She asked the cat and stroked his dark fur. Aetheria could feel him pur underneath her cape and bystanders assumed she was just an enthusiastic pet owner. It was a relief to see many other elves, humans and even dwarves! Her father had told her stories about dwarves, but she never dreamed of seeing one in person.

At a nearby stall, she stared at a dwarven man making a bargain with a merchant. His beard was long, lustrous and decorated with beads, or other ornamental adornment. It was obvious to Aetheria, that he was an important person of some sort. She felt her body itch for a desire to touch the dwarves beard. She felt like a child, but asked the strange dwarf anyway:

"Sir...I hope this isn't insulting to your kind, but can I touch your beard?" She asked him, her eyes hopeful and her tone sincere. Aetheria cradled Sireth and felt disappointment, as the dwarven man took his wares and left the strange girl. He didn't know why someone would want to touch his beard, let alone be that bold as a female elf. What a strange girl!

Embarrassment crept over her face and she blushed crimson. The merchant gave her an odd look and she realized he gossiped about her odd request with patrons. When she realized her social blunder, she hugged Sireth and dashed away from the merchant to search for Brishen. The city began to overwhelm her, but now she knew better than to ask a dwarven man if she could touch his beard.

Her embarrassment faded, when she spied the image of Brishen trailing behind them. She waved toward him excitedly and managed to cradle Sireth.

Sireth giggled, a snorting sort of purring sound, from the comfort of the cloak as Aetheria asked the dwarf if she could touch his beard. The chuckle turned into a steady purr of comfort as he walked away. Surely he had been asked that before? The cat himself wouldn’t mind batting at the beard a bit.

“It was a very luscious beard,” Sireth commented as they hurried away from the merchants. He didn’t understand humanoid hair habits. They took so much time to preen -or, to his horror, not enough- and yet hated having their hair follicles jostled by another. If only they would catch on to how good pets felt!

Brishen had made himself right at home. While not from a city, he was familiar with how to work one. In the pouring rain, it was even easier. Chat a merchant here, slip a little something into your pocket there. He was more hungry than anything, but was well off enough to not have to steal food. Instead the sticky fingered wanderer pocketed a thin golden chain from one boastful merchant too busy bragging of his high quality imports to notice a scruffy man in a tattered oil cloth lingering a little too close to the goods.

Vacating the market soon after, he decided it wise to catch up with the two he arrived with- who just so happened to be right ahead. He waved back, picking up pace. There were a lot of strange people here, Brishen thought to himself. Ones way too short and stocky with the most phenomenal beards he’d ever seen, ones too tall and lanky with odd shaped ears like his companion.

He was positive that most of these people wouldn’t think twice of a talking cat. In fact, most of them probably had stranger occurrences daily. He had seen some things in the market he was still trying to fathom.

Ruby Flask

The busiest tavern in Skyfall, stocked with meads, ales, and plenty of food. Bards are always found from all across the reaches of the realm to share their stories, providing entertainment alongside the serving wenches. It offers many rooms on the second floor to find rest from travel at a fair price. It is run by an enormous green ogre woman named, Bolga.

“I am famished,” As if on cue, Brishen’s stomachs let out a mighty rumble. They had come a long way, and it was wetter than wet outside.

“ The cat has eaten, now shall we?” Brishen guestured towards the Ruby Flask. He had overheard a merchant praising Bolga’s Brew.

Aetheria's embarrassment was short lived, once Brishen motioned toward the Ruby Flank. She had never been inside a tavern before, but her father enjoyed going to a local one on the weekends. He'd tell her stories about bar fights, or a how he got to enjoy a strong dwarven ale. She jumped up and down on her petite feet, much to Sireth's disappointment. From onlookers, she treated the cat like a stuffed animal. When she realized the possible discomfort of Sireth, she patted him and apologized, then promised him cream from the tavern.

"I'm so sorry, Sireth! I'm just excited! Father often told me stories of taverns, but I never thought I'd get to go eat in one! I'll have to write home about this...do you think they have dwarven ale?" She asked, her outlook naive about the situation. Aetheria had plenty of coin from her parents funding her travels, but she didn't understand how strong a dwarven ale could be. The young elf looked around the tavern for "No pets allowed," signs and didn't see any. She heard people laughing, cheering and the sound of cards being shuffled. Music played in the background and it was created by a single bard.

Aetheria was a rogue, but she still didn't have a job. Maybe they could enjoy themselves in the tavern and gamble some coin, or dance to some music. She smiled at Brishen with a sense of joy and skipped into the tavern. Patrons eyed her with suspicion and one muttered something about the shape of her ears. Aetheria ignored the comments and removed her dark green hood, to reveal the elven ears.

Music came to an abrupt halt. The song finished, the taverns lone bard shuffled through music sheets. It was a tough crowd today. Thrice, he had been heckled on stage and called a "pansy-loving-fairy," but he was shocked to hear someone clapping their hands in his direction.

She loudly applauded the bard and realized she was the only one clapping. How unfair! The man played beautiful music, or what she thought was beautiful music and they wouldn't even show their gratitude! Aetheria placed Sireth on the bar top and gave the bard a few coins to continue playing. She grimaced as people boo'd her action toward the kind musician. She didn't understand the harm in supporting street performers. Aetheria sheepishly bowed at the musician and listened to him adjust his lute. Music filled the room once more.

Brishen would be joining them, who might have more experiences in taverns.

"I would like a dwarven ale and stew, please! Your finest!" Aetheria exclaimed and put money down on the table. Burly looking men smirked in the groups direction. She felt uneasy at first, but she shared a broad smile in their direction. Put off by her kind nature, they went back to nursing their drinks.

What a strange bunch.

Sireth hopped up on the counter and sat himself square.

"Goats milk, please," He requested as a flagon of dwarven ale and a bowl of stew were set down before Aetheria. Brishen kept his distance at first, ordering his own flagon of the house brew, Bolga's Brew, and a bowl of stew. When he realized Aetheria's kind glow was more a deterrent to trouble than a causer of it he brought himself over to join them.

"Bard wasn't bad," Brishen commented, "Though, is good he fix the lute. Hey," Brishen pointed to the bulletin board behind the bar. There was a bunch of notices, including a big one written in poor handwriting. Someone, it seemed, had lost their black cat.

Sireth wasn't paying them any mind. Instead, he listened closely to a conversation happening near by.

"...coming of age soon, the Princess...""...eerie rains, it's not the season for..."

"...would never happen!""...the crown's the only thing keeping..."

Aetheria patted Sireth and scratched underneath his chin, then behind his ears. "Would you like to ride in my pack? It might suit you." She asked the cat, then listened to to Brishen explain something about a bulletin board. She let Sireth finish his goats milk and went to read the many posts. Aetheria pulled a curled lock of blonde hair, behind her right ear and continued to read. She felt something swell in her heart. Tears began to form. Sireth was lost?! She assumed he was just a companion of Brishen, but now his story was much more tragic.

She rushed from the bulletin board, her eyes tearful. Streaks of tears ran down her cheeks, but it was at the thought of their friend being separated from a loving family.

"Oh, Sireth! You poor thing!" She exclaimed, startling the bartender, who dropped an expensive bottle of wine, due to the sheer sharpness of her tone. He hoped they were leaving soon. They had already caused enough ruckus, but the girl appeared harmless. Maybe a little emotional, when it came to stories and music. The bartender began to clean up the shards of glass and muttered about the excitable behavior of women.

Her arms reached out for Sireth and she hugged him close, interrupting his meal. She would never let him feel alone, or abandoned! Aetheria buried her face into his fur and used the motion to wipe her tears away. "Poor, poor, Sireth! We need to get you back home..." The bartender listened to her, but with a raised brow. The shape of the young woman's ears told him one thing only: she was part elf and it could bring him trouble. With that thought, he decided to intervene and discuss the missing cat conundrum.

It would get the group out of his hair.

"I can give you directions, my lady. If you and your companions like, I can give you free room and board, IF you promise to leave in the morning and be on your way." Gilbert (the bartender) said. He watched her contemplate her decision and he sighed, as he put a mix of a non-alcoholic sweet drink in front of her (like our modern Shirley Temples) and topped it with a cherry in the center. Gilbert looked at the cat and knew there was something odd about the creature. He'd refill this sweet concoction and promise them free room and board, especially if it made them leave tomorrow.

The bard continued to play out-of-date music and in the wrong tune. He grimaced and sighed at his luck that evening.

Sireth purred, he would love to ride in the pack. He was only slightly startled by the breaking glass, choosing to ignore any attitudes exhibited by the bartender towards his new friend.

"We'll take it, thank you very much kind sir," Brishen rushed into the conversation, never one to turn down anything free. He felt at the necklace in his pocket. The cheapskate was glad not to have to spend it just yet.

"Directions?" Sireth's ears perked up. He hadn't exactly been looking for his human, but he should get back to her. They did, after all, share a bond. And it had been too long since sap had clumped his fur.

"Aye, directions, young lord." The bartender explained to the cat and poured it more cream. Gilbert didn't question what he was seeing. It was common to see all types of folks in the tavern. The owner was an ogre named Olga, so a talking cat wasn't a huge shock to him. He had served many years in this tavern, but he had never seen such extreme reactions toward this particular trio. The drunkards and gamblers normally ignored passerby's, but he understood why this group stook out like a sore thumb. The girl was out of place and had an ethereal feeling about her. She was unnatural. At least the cat could be explained. Brishen looked like your average man looking for some peace and quiet.

He shrugged his shoulders and went to clean a glass. His thoughts went back to the owner looking for their pet. Some snob had entered the tavern many days ago looking for a certain black cat. The owner in tears over their disappearance. Gilbert never understood that sort of attachment with a pet, but he supposed the attachment could be worse.

Gilbered finished cleaning the glass and poured Brishen a fresh drink, then remade the same sweet drink for Aetheria.

"Your owner came in a few nights ago. I told them I'd keep a look out." He paused and watched Aetheria sniff her drink with a curiosity. "It's the same drink, on the house for all of you." Gilbert said and patted Aetheria on the head, like one would a precocious child.

He slipped Sireth a makeshift map with instructions on his owners whereabouts. "They were pretty upset by your disappearance. I'd suggest getting home to them as soon as possible." Gilbert refilled the cream to the rim and left the group to their own devices.

* * *

Aetheria smelled the sweet drink and drank it with an excitable expression seen in children. This was now her favorite drink. She didn't understand how the men drank beer, or ale, when this was available!

"Well, Sireth, are you ready to go home?" She smiled at Sireth and stroked his back with a fondness. She glanced at Brishen and waited for his input. Sometimes she forgot he was there, because he was so quiet.

Sireth bristled at being referred to as a lord. This was the second time this week the cat had been given the respect deserving of cats. The outside world wasn’t as unforgiving as his true owner would like to think.

He glanced down at the map, studying it while he slowly lapped at the cream.

“Perhaps,” Sireth responded to Aetheria, sounding as if he had more to say. He opened his mouth to say more, holding a ridiculous expression for a few moments before deciding to dive back into the cream and contemplation. He thought of sap and snuggles, but also of adventure and conversation.

Brishen had downed his drink and was beginning towards tipsy. Posted up, he studied the bard who just couldn’t get the crowd right. His own instrument begged to be played. It was all Brishen could do to resist storming the stage and taking the crowd. Alas he stopped himself. Lest he get banned from another place for upsetting the wrong person with the wrong strings.

“Perhaps!?” Brishen snapped his attention back to his traveling companions. He still wasn’t used to their oddities, but the alcohol helped. A grin cracked his face open as he laughed and leaned in close to the two.

“Black cat, you’ve such autonomy,
You don’t know where you want to be!” Uh oh, here came the speaking in rhymes notorious of the man when imbibed. Sireth blinked once, locking eyes within Brishen, staring, glaring, until the man’s smile faltered and he returned to his drink. Brishen shrugged innocently at Aetheria.

High in the sky an emerald dragon burst from a cloud. In the blink of an eye the dragon disappeared. The skies opened up; a heavy rain falling down onto Skyfall Citadel.

"The King hath'n mad" Bawled a woman three drinks past drunk. She received a harsh elbow from more than one at her table. They all hoped nobody important overheard their conversation. Despite fears of execution, or worse, they continued their tipsy speculations.

"They'll verily be hangin' 'er," one man frankly remarked, causing another wail from the drunken woman.

"He a stone foo-" She didn't manage to finish her sentence before someone stuffed a pretzel in her mouth. The woman angrily finished the treat. The King was a fool, she thought to herself, and they were all going to perish because of it. Who could ignore the signs? Surely the Oracle didn't. To think the Oracle was once considered a main line of defense, a trusted advisor, the left hand of the Crown! Now?

"Tellyawhat. Hangeth she may, dieth she don't," Remarked the pretzel-stuffer, "Summin weird on folk in the oraclin' an' magickin trades. Tellyawhat if she lives fast through a hangin', the King may have a point, tellyawhat."

The woman turned incredulous, "If she don' die, isn' tha' Gaia Herself side choosin'?"

Telltale thunks of the heavy military sole upon the outside stair show a tall man of rough features a keen ear drawn by the wail. Heavy pack straps pressed to his shoulders a keen ear stared and listened. Leather stitched about his travel clothes belts sturdy if worn by many long years that laid fine embossed patterns once there to an elegant ruin. Only a historian of lore long confined to dusty tomes might recognize the faded symbol of a betrayed king long passed upon the buckle. Much less a face which hadn't aged a day if not for the lack of a bloodied general staring glass-eyed to the horizon. A side satchel from foot to hip sent a strap over the far shoulder clanks gently from metal inside as his sinewy arm tensed to heft it up. He moved no less the confident pace than what bards twisted described in the story they twisted, at least to Korshid, in mockery of the lives spent there.

A soft settling of muffled sharp notes came before a stern voice from behind her, "If the valued of the rightful crown does not suffer it is because good men chose to take it as their burden to make it so. However, a good man once told me that victory does not suffer loud fools."

Sat without asking in a careful lift of the chair not to make noise. Simple wool and leather clothing are seen up close as a rugged quality common to hermits expecting the elements than the gentle city. Fingers interleaved his green eyes raised their brow the calm smile of one burdened by understanding.

He countered the woman and others without accusation, "Though Gaia does not make decisions but to put pieces on the board. So tell me good folks, quietly, of a game a madman might play. I have been away for a long time."

"Verily so," Brishen had been quietly listening from his spot at the bar. The strange woman and stranger cat weren't there when he had awoken that morning, the better for he. However, the rains still pounded down. There was a general air of upset and it didn't take long to find out why.

"They're hanging th'Oracle," Brishen answered the gruff one's inquiry nonchalantly, tipping the rest of his drink down his throat. He loved a good mead.

"An' the weather!" Interjected the woman as she swallowed her pretzel, "An' the storms, an the-" Just then, a young man burst through the door. His hair was a mess, he was soaked to the bone in rain, and he was clearly out of breath.

"Dragon!" The young man shrieked, causing the gentle lute music to come to a screeching halt, and attracting most eyes, "There's a Dragon! I saw a dragon!"

"See?!" The woman incredulously roared, rocketing to a stand and tipping her chair over as she went. The rest of her party erupted in debate.

"Impossible!" "Yeah, right?!" "Told you so!" The young man joined their fray. The group slowly returned to their seating, with the addition of a new conspirator, hashing out theories as to what was going on.

Brishen turned to the newcomer, no believing for a moment that a dragon was sighted, "So yeah, that's about what you've missed, I would assume? I myself am a recent arrival, er...?"

The rain continued, the dark skies seeming to have no end. Every now and again a clap of thunder, a flash of lighting, but the purpose of the rain was not to bring the doom and gloom - though it did help. All throughout Gaia, ages ago, seeds had been planted. Seeds which would wait for the great waters to return before they would bud unto this realm. Eras flexed his glory.

A great rumble grew from beneath the Exalted Mountains. Here, though still so subtle the humans were less to notice, it permeated most strong. Some of the bridges, sturdy as they were, vibrated from the rumbling. It seemed the floating rocks themselves as well had taken on a new life.

Eras looked down on the Kingdom of Skyfall, confident he had within his grasp the pitiful humans and their worldly toils. Half of them didn't even believe in dragons! He turned his attention elsewhere as rains poured into the lesser valleys of the Exalted Mountains. Sooner than later , places would begin to flood.

She sipped her raspberry flavored concoction and wondered if the barkeeper had any news for her. Aetheria couldn't remember a time when she wasn't out adventuring, or going on some quests. She took a slender finger and drew the straw to her full lips for another sip. This entire area brought back fun memories, but would she ever experience that again? Her haunting blue eyes gazed at the barkeeper in a child-like wonderment.

/say Any news? I haven't been here in many years. I wondered if you might know of any quests I could partake in?

Kyren Sullenfall looked up to see who was addressing them as they entered. Was it one of their old-time friends?

Pardon?

they asked, almost surprised. Removing the bag from their shoulder and setting it on the table, he quickly processed the question and responded.

Oh, I'm not too sure. I just got back, myself.

they answered, looking towards the bar for a well-deserved drink.