Chapter One-Hundred Twenty-Six
Aranya
The two residents of Thedeim hurry through the streets, both trying not to worry too much about the clouds rolling in off the ocean. They both saw the map, they both know Thedeim is making his move on Hullbreak today.
What theyre uncertain of is if he can keep Hullbreaks counter from destroying the town. Thankfully, he wont have to try and do it on his own.
How long do you think it will take for them to get ready? asks the kobold of her more experienced feathered friend.
Some will already be awake, and so should take no time at all. Some may sleep through this in its entirety, Yvonne admits. Aranya cant imagine someone sleeping through this well, maybe. Shes seen Ragnar win drinking contests with people who take days to wake up, and whos hangovers make them wish they never woke up at all. The dwarf always seems to weather such escapades just fine. He doesnt seem to be much of a morning person, but he has that professional demeanor of a soldier who can wake up and get right to marching, even if it takes a few miles to truly wake up.
Shes not sure shes ever seen Aelara even yawn, much less sleep, so shes not too worried about her being groggy for something like this. Shes just worried how many other adventurers theyll be able to gather in what little time they seem to have.
Her fears are partially assuaged as they near the guild hall, and she can hear morning activities from within. While the sounds at night are often of raucous party and merriment, the morning sounds are more industrious; the sounds of people eating and chatting as they prepare for the day. Adventurers always have a day of danger ahead of them, and celebrate a day of adventure behind them, she supposes.
The two Residents burst into the guild, only drawing a few eyes. Once Yvonne makes a line for the thin orc behind the bar, she draws a few more.
Karn the Slight greets the two as they approach, but doesnt offer them something to eat or drink just yet. It couldnt be more clear they have something important to discuss if they had the aranea carve it on a sign over their heads. Heya. Whats up?
Yvonne cuts to the heart of the matter with her words, as she often does with her arrows. Hullbreak is attacking the town with an army of seagulls.
Aranya can see him start to smile, thinking its a good joke, but he can read the seriousness on their faces. How bad? he asks, all business.
Bad enough that Thedeim is mobilizing his dwellers, too, answers the red kobold. Karns widening eyes signifies he understands the seriousness of the situation. He inhales and speaks loudly.
Raid Quest!
The general murmurs of the guild go silent for a few moments, as they all get the notification and option to join the raid party. Aranya and Yvonne join without hesitation, and they can feel the other adventurers quickly joining as well. In a matter of a heartbeat, the atmosphere inside the guild changes from people enjoying breakfast to people preparing for war. Breakfast still is eaten, but much quicker now.
Any more details than that? asks Karn of the two, and Aranya speaks up after a few moments.This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.
Lord Thedeim is making a move on Hullbreak Harbor. This must be the Harbors attempt to strike back at him. We had all thought he was limited to only having significant forces under the waves, and so disregarded the seagull spawner.
She closes her eyes for a moment, the orange sphere of her pendant gently glowing for a few moments as she tries to divine details from her home sanctuary.
A gnome walks through the loose formation of mages and archers, passing out potions as she goes, and Aranya moves to help in her own way. Minute orange threads spread from the small orb around her neck as she weaves her faith around all gathered. Weavers Gentle Touch, she intones, calling upon the subtle actions of her Sanctuary to help guide them all to victory, and to keep them all safe.
Her contribution made, she and the others can only stare out at the ocean, and the battle being waged between the forces of Thedeim and Hullbreak. No gulls seem to be getting past Poe and his multitude, but she can feel a growing tension from the others.
Somethings wrong, says an orc with the look of a shaman around him. Aranya looks at him, confused. What do you mean? None of the gulls are getting past Poe.
He shakes his head and points up, to the clouds over the chaotic battle. The gulls arent the actual threat. Look at the clouds.
Aranya does, but doesnt know what shes looking at. Shes used to there being rocks over her head, not clouds. A few others, however, look at the slow motion of the cover, and frown as well.
The enemy scion is doing something. That causes everyone to frown, but what else can they do?
No whispers an elf who looks like hed be more fit standing on a deck than a dock. Ive seen a storm like that, once. Way to the south. The ocean swells and rages as the skies tear at anything in the way. Our ship was out past its wrath, but the port we were trying to get to just wasnt there afterwards.
A loud boom causes everyone to flinch, and Yvonne squints as she gazes at the hole in the clouds. I see Poe and Fluffles. And I think the enemy scion. It looks like an albatross.
Before she can explain further, the orc shamans eyes widen in shock. What is happening out there? he demands with fear and awe.
Fluffles is building something. Some kind of orb, answers Yvonne, uncertain of what she's actually seeing.
Hes devouring the storm, speaks the orc as he makes a gesture, calling a natural spirit in the form of a turtle, and starts working his magic to ensure the safety of those around him.
The nautical elf, and a few others, warily watch the skies, and Aranya suspects they have storm affinity. While the others can only watch in confusion as weaker booms reach their ears, the ones presumably with storm affinity seem to be getting more and more concerned.
They and Yvonne all gasp at the same time, while the others can only look on and behold the result of whatever happened. The hole in the clouds closes in an instant, before the storm simply starts to dissipate.
Everyone stands around in different states of confusion or shock as the looming threat just fades. Nervous cheers are heard, though the ones with storm affinity dont join in. Eventually, the orc shaman seems to remember something, and looks at Aranya.
What did your dungeon just do? he asks, less as an accusation, and more as someone who just witnessed something profound.
I dont know. What do you think he did?
The orc looks back to the clouds, his eyes tracing the large raven and the winged serpent making their way back towards town.
It ate a storm, and spat it back at the one who made it.
