Forgotten Blood Finale - The Mountain

Before the Adventurers, lies Ketsalkuetspaltahtepetl: Great Dragonfather Mountain. A massive volcano, home to a community named after the volcano itself. As they step along the path, having arrived here through teleportation or more conventional ways, they can feel a certain 'pressure' in the air.

This nervous sense of those within the walls of Ketsalkuetspaltahtepetl. They've already passed a few outlying communities, houses that have now gone empty. A divine message received, there's concerns of a great calamite that will befall this land. And so, its people are retreating beyond the massive walls.

Even from here, they can see the tall draconic statues. Against the volcano's face, upon the walls, it's everywhere. Many of them depict the Dragonfather - Daeus - themselves. But they are not the only one being worshiped in this place.

It's coming down right now, the raindrops are thick, but not 'heavy'. But with the cloud cover, it means that the land is a bit cooler than it usually is. A greyness to the skies that feels like it is reinforcing this oppressive sensation.

Ahead of them, they can already see the guards at the walls. The Talons, patrolling the perimeter and guarding the various entrances. There's a constant 'hiss' and 'huff' coming from the lava-river that is serving as a 'natural' barrier against invaders.

Ketsalkuetspaltahtepetl. A holy place that Skielstregar has always wanted to venture to pay homage. Well, Malefic too, as they haven't shut up about the trip. Though, the metal gnashing slows to a silence with each passing empty village.

Despite the rain, Skiel still is painted for this. Draconic runes and patterns of gold circling his eyes trailing down his arms. Running slightly now in the waters. Malefic too even is dressed for the occasion, with a glass figurine of a yellow dragon dangling from its closed metal maw.

"Were thisss one to wisssh we were here on more happier pretensssesss," Skielstregar rumbles in a hiss, craning his head up to the statues. He thumps his tail. "But- we are here."

Auranar stays close to Verna, wanting to support her wife during this difficult time. She admittedly doesn't know much about the sith-makar as a people, and has only interacted with a few in her time in Alexandria, but there are times where all must come together. She smiles at her wife, trying to be reassuring. For now though, she keeps her peace, and only nods in agreement to Skielstregar's rumbling words.

There was nothing oppressive about Aelwyn. Even with his autumn scales, once brilliantly ruddy, now darkened and scoured; the thick leather wraps around his abdomen; the collection of red ribbons replaced with just a few and a green one; and a bit of a limp, the not-so-ruddy sith-makar still had a sway to his step. Rain soaked and under the grey sky, his scales seemed far more darker; but his orange slit pupils shone all the more brighter against the dark of him.

His glaive was laid across his shoulders as the Dragoon made his way along. He lets out a quiet rumbling whistle as they near the mountain. "It is quite the sight, this one has to admit." And one he wasn't sure what to think of yet. Am'shere, despite the strange familiarity, felt very alien to him. "Everything Silver expected?" He flashes a bright grin.

It was only a matter of time before Rune returned to Am'shere, the continued threat from the Charneth the primary driver of her travels these days. The rogue is dressed in a cloak that shields some of the rain from her face. There is a splash of paint across one cheek, marking her rank among the Makari people.

Though Ketsalkuetspaltahtepetl is known to her, through stories told over many years spent here, it is not someplace that Rune has actually been. There's a certain respect that is held in that unknowing, acting both in her role as warrior and as the mate of a Shaman.

For now, she walks near Skielstregar, taking in the wonder of the place with curious eyes. She seems unusually quiet, though, at least for the time being. Keeping her thoughts to herself.

Verna has not visited Am'shere previously, much less such an important and impressive location within. It is unfortunate that the situation for this visit is such an unpleasant one. Her attention shifts between taking in the natural scenery, the city ahead, and the Makari patrolling the same. Her neutral countenance does not betray her discomfort, though perhaps the lack of reflexive smile to her wife might? Auranar's hand certainly knows better, given Verna's grip upon it. Luckily for them both, the half-mul's grip is incapable of crushing anything.

Cuemoni, turquoise-scaled, peers around the jungle in the way that someone who's lived their whole life in one environment might do so in a casual, but searching manner. The makari woman seems utterly comfortable in her environment, dressed in her leathers and with fresh red paint glittering on her scales.

"Hail to the spirits of this land, I ask for your permission and blessing to be here. Hail to the spirits of this place, I ask for your permission and blessing to be here. Hail to the spirits of this community, I ask for your permission and blessing to be here."

She seems to take her position as Shaman quite seriously as she walks through the jungle. Not taking her chances by upsetting the local spirits in a community that is so sacred.

As the group approaches the gates of Ketsalkuetspaltahtepetl, the two Talons near the front shift their dragon-headed lances and move forward towards the bridge to block the path.

There's some quick whispers between them, and a call back to the door behind them. Those who speak Dragonic, will understand they're sending for someone to 'check' the Adventurers.

Only then do they address the approaching Adventurers. "Please gather up on the bridge, halt, and identify yourselves."

Elsewhere, within Ketsalkuetspaltahtepetl, a particular pair of rather old Sith-makar are approached by a guard. Asking for them to please follow the the entrance to identify a group of Adventurers and to check on their legitimacy.

There's a certain distracted nature to Schara as she arrives to the large city along with others in the group, but the bronze clad artificer cannot help but be impressed by the scale and design of the place. "This is unlike any of the other villages I have seen here." Schara notes quietly. "I too wish there was more time to study the area, along with the thermo and fluid dynamics of this place. Is lava covered by fluid dynamics, actually? I am uncertain."

The artificer's pondering is stopped as they reach the bridge, where she too comes to a halt. "Oh, alright, my name is Schara, and I'm here with these others."

Skielstregar chuffs, nodding once towards Aelwyn. "Sssa. Everything and more," he smiles unsettlingly. "Jussst wissh for more revelry and reverence than needing to be of ssservice."

Seeing as the others were lining up behind him, and feeling emboldened that there was a veritable Shaman beside him, he opens his arms up to the Talons. "Kin! Thisss one isss Warrior Sssskielssstregar of the Dragonfather!" he declares proudly. "We are here to heed needs and render aid!"

"Hmmh, this one is certain there will be plenty of that after we are done." The Dragoon points out with a toothy grin of his own; the grimace unsettling in its own way. "This one shall not pretend to understand, Brass, but the Lava seems fluid and dynamic enough to me." He continues, with a deep rumbling hiss.

When they are called out to, Aelwyn's cheer fades away and he steps forward with Skielstregar, bowing his head momentarily. "Aelwyn, a Dragoon." The draconian calls out back lazily. He tilts his head then, considering. "... of Warrior caste." He finally ventures, after an amount of indecision.

Auranar is secretly, quite grateful that Verna's hand is in her own. She hears the sith-makar ahead of them call out and quickly steps onto the bridge with Verna. "I am Auranar Lupecyll-Atlon." She says easily, then offers a sort of curtsy-bow. She doesn't have the ties to the sith-makar community that Rune has, so she leaves it at that.

As the group is stopped upon the bridge, Rune draws back her hood, at least momentarily in order to make herself more visible amongst the others. With the weapons brandished and others offering their introductions, the rogue inclines her head, a few raindrops trailing down along her cheek. "I'm Rune. Called Sjachzhin among the Makari. Warrior caste."

There is a slight glance towards some of the others, settling on Auranar and Verna briefly, appreciating their aid despite not having those stronger connections to the Makari people. She leaves her hood down for now, but does shift her cloak to allow her weaponry to be visible to make it clear that she is not hiding anything from the guards.

Cuemoni also approaches with Skielstregar. She gives an introductory tail thump on the ground. "Kin of Ketsalkuetspaltahtepetl," she intones, "this one is Shaman Cuemoni of the Xiuhcoatl tribe, companion of the esteemed healer and Shaman Zeke. This one seeks to give aid in the capacities this one is capable of."

She gives a wide-armed sweep and a curtsy of sorts, as is her custom. "This one offers respect to the People and to the spirits here."

Verna's hand in Auranar's does make it easier for one to aid the other in moving forward onto the bridge. She takes several moments to consider what she knows of Sith-Makar social protocols, priority, formality. Then she realizes that most everyone has already spoken up, to include her spouse. In the end, she offers simply, "I am Verna Lupecyll-Atlon." It may be custom to expound upon familial ancestry, but that is expected to come up soon enough.

The moment Skielstregar approaches and introduces himself, there's a quick little bit of hub-bub between the ones standing before him. Then, their gazes slip from Skielstregar, to Malefic for a moment. There's this moment of strange recognition.

"Warrior." Jelzrem remarks, bowing his head in respect to Skielstregar. "Malefic." They then remark.

They then look to Rune and the others. Taking in Cuemoni, Aelwyn, and the connection between Auranar and Verna. At hearing Rune name herself in Draconic, they take a moment to look to her markings.

"Warrior." Bunyg, the other of the Talons, bows his head. Then, taking note of the name Zeke being dropped, he looks to Cuemoni. "A companion of Shaman Zeke is of course welcome. If you'll please wait."

As they form up on the bridge, it takes a moment. The heat of the lava below no doubt not the most comfortable thing in the world. But eventually, the door behind them opens.

Beyond it, another Talon, followed by Xocoh and Miquitlani - here to vouch for the Adventurers. But Skielstregar will no doubt notice they keep glancing at him. The Guards then list off the introductions the Adventurers have given so far to the two.

Skielstregar and Malefic share a look. "Who did-"

"I didn't /bite/ anyone here- do not start accusations in such a holy site!" Malefic gnashes up at Skiel.

He squints.

"... maybe. To the fore, hatchling! They mire you!"

Suspicion perhaps? Distrust? No-"It isss because thisss one didn't wear enough gold...!" he hisses back, looking very self conscious of his lack of gold and white cloth.

Malefic stares at Skiel. And bites his horn. Skiel ignores it and waves dopily at Miquitlani!

Cuemoni remains with the group, bowing her head in deference to the elderly sith-makar who approach. Elders are to be treated with respect, especially in a place such as this. "This one greets and welcomes," she says gently and reverently.

She feels oddly comfortable with the lava below.

Admittedly, being left on the bridge is both nerve-wracking and... hot. Auranar sweats. Mostly due to the heat really. "It'll be alright." She murmurs. Mostly to Verna, but in truth, she's trying to soothe her own nerves as well.

Aelwyn bows his head at those at the end of the bridge, seeming to be completely unbothered by the wait. He was just basking in the heat. That horrible heat. Though - he cannot help but be distracted by Skielstregar, towards whose ankles his tail lightly thwaps at. "Cool as ice," He quietly rumbles and flashes his teeth.

Verna is only sweating from the heat. Certainly. Well, perhaps mostly, given that introductions are made and the gates are opened. Now it is she who offers a brief smile to Auranar and a short light squeeze of hand. "All shall be well, dearest."

Miquitlani, the elderly sith-makar with dark-green scales and one good orange reptilian eye, shifts forward in her approach, using a cane now to help her walk, but she doesn't seem slowed down for it. The Deathsinger--for she wears a pendant of the goddess that the softskins would call Vardama around her neck--gives a pleased sounding noise at the approach of the adventurers.

"Ay, Warrior Skielstregar," she says. "So big and strong. Have you been eating well? Are these your friends?" There's a twinkle in her orange eyes. "It is good to have many friends, ay, big warrior. And Warrior Rune! It is good to see you here as well."

Then she sighs. "It would be nice to feed you all tlahcos again, but there are other matters to attend to." It's clear that her lack of time to make food for the assembled is, to her, the greatest disservice.

Schara takes a step back and bows to the guards seeing others do so. "It is a good idea to be careful about newcomers here given recent events." Schara agrees. "I do not know how relevant it is, but if we are offering titles and castes, I believe that I am considered an honorary member of the hunter caste."

"Are we okay to enter inside? I don't wish to leave things open longer than necessary."

The fact that Malefic is recognized draws a slight raise of one eyebrow from Rune. The weapon's history is something she isn't well versed in, but it's possible that there are many things she doesn't know. She wipes a hand across her brow, wiping away what is one part sweat and one part rain, though she seems to be attempting not to look uncomfortable while standing over the lava's heat.

She doesn't seem to react in any negative way to that moment of hesitation. Afterall, she distinctly chose not to add her connection to Harkashan in her introduction, choosing to stand on her own merits, instead.

The sight of Miquitlani does draw a soft smile from Rune, though. "It's good to see you again, Deathsinger. Harkashan sends his regards." Though she offers no explanation as to his absence. Then, as Schara requests they enter, Rune offers a nod of agreement.

Xocoh doesn't speak as Miquitlani begins to talk. Standing there, hands behind his back. He doesn't seem to 'see', his eyes do not wander. They just kind of stare out into the forest.

But all it takes is a single extra nod from him after Miquitlani speaks - a confirmation - after which he simply walks back inside and to the inner sides of the walls.

Between Miquitlani clearly recognizing these people, and Xocoh's single nod, the guards step aside and motion inside. And as the group begins to move, they're notably flanked by Jelzrem. Who is sticking close to Skielstregar and keeps staring at him.

Within the walls, the heat is still heavy, with a lava pool to the north. A group of Dwarves working on forging weapons at the moment. Using the lava as a tool to help forge and heat metal.

Closer to them, two people are talking strategy. An older Ko-jodakh who is dressed in Sith-makar regalia, and a slim younger Sith-makar. Those overhearing them will note that the younger Sith-makar is objecting to the Ko-jodakh going too far beyond the walls at this time.

Ahead of them, a waterfeature. Showing multiple dragon statues. Including one raised on a tall pillar before them.

There's also an area full of hotstones, which are currently unoccupied, but clearly normally are used for prayer or some kind of ceremony.

There's a quiet to this first 'ring' within the walls. Aside from the Talons that can be seen patrolling the tops of them.

Skielstregar bobs his head along, taking the thwap from Aelwyn with grace. Malefic dangles, staying latched on as Skiel attempts to pry them off. "Thisss one isss eating well! Yesss, many friendsss!"

No tlachos?! Skiel's shoulders slump. "Awh..."

Malefic pops off, barely holding onto their yellow glass dragon figurine. "... fear not, Warrior, the main sunny delight will soon be upon us!" the weapon excitedly hisses.

"Sunny side tlachos..." Skiel pouts. The lava was getting to his head. Or was it his stomach? Ah, time to move! Jelzrem gets a curious side eye, but he wasn't going prod them just yet.

The half-dead makari's face splits open into a wide grin as they enter, a scent of wonder and joy easily picked up from him. One that trails as he breaks from the group to jog up to the massive statue of the Dragonfather. His armor clanks as he goes to his knees, tail sway unending.

Jelzrem notably follows Skielstregar towards the statue, taking note of his behavior. The immediate worship of the dragonfather. It's a respectful thing. Yet, even Skielstregar might not be blind to the subtle wariness in which he's being viewed by this Sith-makar.

Auranar smiles a little at Skielstregar's enthusiasm. It's mildly contagious really. She squeezes her wife's hand and leans toward her. "I'm following you." She says with a grin. She after all, has no idea where they are going.

Cuemoni notices the sith-makar that eyes Skielstregar with a wary eye, and she leans into Skielstregar to whisper a helpful word. "You are being watched, Warrior Skielstregar," she says. "This one thinks it is out of caution."

A beat, and then she adds, "What is a sunny side tlahco?" Curiosity takes a hold of her. Perhaps if she can learn to make them with her Daeusite Zeke...

Aelwyn follows on after the others, staying quiet for the conversation. The cold pools? His attention slides away from Skielstregar, instead sliding towards the warmth of the forges ahead. "Tch, this one could certainly stay to talk shop with the weaponers, Brass." He rumbles, giving his darkened snout and head a shake. "This rain and those pools do not cheer this one very." He flashes his teeth.

His orange eyes blatantly move to look towards the argument though, over towards the younger and the older sith-makar.

GAME: Rune rolls sense motive: (14)+9: 23

There is a slight show of relief from Rune as they step away from the bridge and the lava-heat that radiates from it. She steps a little closer to the water features rather than the forge, likely needing a few minutes of cooler temperatures.

That, and she seems to be giving a strange look towards the Makari guardian who is following Skielstregar. Oh, she understands all too well why they might be doing so, but that doesn't mean that she isn't going to show utmost confidence in her friend. Yet, something doesn't seem quite right to her.

In a moment of distraction, her ear twitches towards the discussion between the older and younger Sith Makar. It's obvious that not everyone is in agreement on matters, it seems. However, she shakes that off to approach Jelzrem.

"It's usually considered impolite to stare." She offers in a quiet voice. "Is there a reason that you're eyeing Malefic?" She asks.

Miquitlani looks around the group and clears her throat as she looks over at Skielstregar and Cuemoni. "It is important that you listen to the message that I have," she says. It's odd; she uses the speech pattern of the softskins in regards to the word 'I'. "This is a safe place, now that we are beyond the walls."

She beckons to the others to come closer to her and Xocoh. "It is true. The visions were given. It is my place to give them in turn. I have seen deep tremors, crushing life. Birds fleeing the trees. Ancient danger stirred from peace into war by evil hands. And this community."

Miquitlani pauses. "A green glow within the earthquake, the tremors. Another mountain _moving_ onto this community. Surrounded by shadows that move in the mountain's wake, reaching out like hands underneath the mountain's foot. Consuming the People here before the moving mountain's foot crushes underneath..."

She sighs deeply. "Ay. Even now, the visions, they take breath away. Steal the energy." It's true; she looks weary for having even recounted what she's seen.

Jelzrem doesn't speak when Cuemoni mentions Skielstregar being watched. He keeps one arm over his stomach, and the other on his dragonheaded lance. The Talon remaining watchful, but keeping a respectful distance.

When Jelzrem is approached by Rune however, whose keen eye perceived it wasn't Skielstregar being watched, but Malefic, he does speak finally though. "I will show you. After you listen to the Shaman." He remarks. Not wishing to take away from that. That is, by all means, far more important than what knowledge he bears in this moment.

---

As Miquitlani speaks, the two Sith-makar to the north notice the group converging, and approach as well. Listening once again to the premonition. Miquitlani would know them as Qui and Otleko, the ones in charge of the Wall and Talons respectfully.

Xocoh on the other hand, simply nods when the green light is mentioned in a way that indicates that this is something he expects some of those present to know of. No words. Simply a nod.

Skiel is quickly found with his head bowed, hands clasped around a silver Dragonfather amulet as Malefic is similarly bent forward while standing upright. A moment passes after Cuemoni's warning, and Skiel intones is a bassy rumble, "You get ussed to it." A pause. "... a thlaco with runny eggsss and meat." Tail thump.

He turns back to the statue, bowing his head. "Dragonfather, thisss one thanksss you for watching over thisss one dessspite everything. While the light isss far, thisss one ssstill actsss in your name, and will do everything that they can in your ssshadow," he prays.

Malefic launches into a quiet dirge of reverence, something old and rumbly, only the peaks of words picked up.

The silverscale turns at hearing the request of an announcement, Jelzrem getting another sideye- pointed with a chuff, words will be shared- but he leaves Malefic to be. Scaled brows furrow. "... Shaman Miquitlani. That iss..." He shifts on his feat. "... green glow... worrying. Is it of the same vilenesss we've been dealing with?" he asks of the group, growing serious.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls 1d20: (3): 3

In the moment that Skielstregar speaks upon the statue, bowing his head, and speaking his prayer... there's a moment where the clouds shift over eachother. Perhaps it's happenstance. Perhaps it's more. But for a moment, there's a small spot where the rain doesn't fall, and instead there's only the sun. Shining down upon Skielstregar and Malefic, and the statue before him. A warm sun, illuminating and warming. But it does not last very long - and soon, the grey and rain fall upon the two once more.

Of everyone here, Auranar certainly knows the least, but premonitions such as these are not easily given nor to be taken lightly. She frowns mildly. Finally she speaks up quietly, almost as though hoping that her words go unnoticed by the matronly sith-makar. "Is the premonition one that can be forestalled, or is it... going to happen?"

Schara takes a look at Rune and the other makari they approach, and the artificer tilts their head to one side for some time. But realizing the shaman they were looking for was already there and explaining what they saw, her attention returns for the time being.

"I'm not good with visions, they're often quite vague and there are too many possibilities to feel comfortable making any solid assumptions or inferences from them." Schara sighs quietly. "It could be a literal mountain, which is a terrifying thought, or it could be a figurative monumental challenge or threat. The glow, Skielstregar speaks of, it could be related to the barrels we found before? I thought we found all of those, unless they are making more?"

There's a glance to Skielstregar for a moment, and a tilt of their head.

GAME: Cuemoni rolls Knowledge/Nature: (16)+7: 23
GAME: Skielstregar rolls knowledge/religion: (8)+1: 9
GAME: Auranar rolls Knowledge/Religion: (14)+11: 25

Aelwyn turns his head when Skielstregar is literally bathed in sun - tilting his head curiously at the sight for a moment. He restrains his tongue though, returning to the matter of visions and green lights. Visions did make him uncomfortable. "Reminds me of those visions in the temple." He ruminates by himself, before he lets out a long breath and leans his glaive against his chest and neck.

GAME: Rune rolls knowledge/local: (15)+10: 25
GAME: Aelwyn rolls knowledge/local: (9)+3: 12
GAME: Schara rolls knowledge/arcana: (10)+9: 19

Cuemoni nods gently at the knowledge of the egg tlahco. It is a fine meal. One she will make with Zeke at a later point in time. Her heart misses him, misses his heart--

But the vision that Miquitlani imparts... Her golden eyes nictate. "No," she says softly. "It..."

She looks all around. "Behemoths. There are giants who sleep in these lands. Giant creatures. It is not a mountain, but a creature the size of a mountain. There are stories and legends of such things."

Rune lifts both eyebrows in an expression that suggests she isn't about to drop a subject, but she does understand how important it is to give the elder her attention. So, Rune turns, shifting her weight slightly so she focus both her eyes and ears on Miquitlani.

The first thing that strikes her is the mention of the green glow. Her lips press together in a thin line of worry. "Moving mountains..." She murmurs, brows furrowed as she seems to consider what she knows of the legends of Am'shere. "Do you... think these may be the same moving mountains that were brought by the dragons?"

Cuemoni gets a quick look from her, afterwards, as it is clear that she has far more in-depth knowledge about such things. "Behemoths? Huh..."

Then, she adds, "The green glow has me worried, though. The vats of disease that the Charneth have tried to release have all had a green glow."

"It is a difficult thing to say," Miquitlani answers. "Sometimes, the visions--they speak of a future that is maybe to come. Sometimes, they speak of a future that is set."

She makes a thoughtful noise. "I do not know if the green glow has a connection to the Charneth. It is possible that it is. It is also possible that it is one of those behemoths, Warrior Leirune--the visions are abstract at times. It is the way of prophecy and seeing."

Miquitlani sighs again. "When I was younger, I was able to discern more in the way of vision-sight. Ay, but I am old now."

Skiel, as thick skulled as his is, feels an old shift in his barely beating heart, and he turns his eyes skyward. As brief as it is, the now sparkling silverscale and his intimidate halberd simply bask in the glow.

And its over.

The duo regard the group with a fiery (frozen?) determination. Skiel huffs a plume of frozen clouds. He curls his first. "Be it behemothssss or Charneth, we can endure and overcome."

His tail whips in frustration. "Thisss one hopesss not. We will have larger isssuesss if it isss the vatsss." Pause. "Maybe isss using vatsss to make thlacos- erm, sssory, behemothsss hungry?"

He strides up to Miquitlani, patting her on the back. "Worry not, Shaman. We can dissscern for you!"

Aelwyn listens in on the conversation, but eventually he has to ask the people standing next to him; Auranar and Schara. "... what are thlacos, and why are they so important?" He quietly ruminates. And why is the discussion making him a feel bit hungry?

Qui remarks finally, as the other speak. "If it is a Behemoth, the walls will not stand, Otleko." She notes. Only for the younger slender one to quickly retort; "That doesn't mean you should go out there! You won't stand a chance against a Behemoth. It'll be safer to slow it down here..."

"And chance the walls crumbling and centuries of work being undone? I will not permit this." Qui is quick to retort. "And we need you here. Those Shadows they speak of... they will lead. We need to guard the walls so none can harm our people."

Auranar frowns thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it a little, I read somewhere that there were ancient giants... creatures of vast size that would destroy areas and then go dormant again." She has the grace to look embarrassed. "I don't know how true it is, but it sounds as though this information is not unheard of by? Then... It is possible that the Charnesh either intend to wake such a creature, or will do so unintentionally." Either way was undesirable.

Suddenly the elf pales and looks at Miquitlani. "Oh no. That... makes a certain amount of terrible sense. The gods might well be reaching out through you to give this warning because it _is_ being corrupted." Auranar looks rather terrified by the thought.

Schara tilts her head back in the other direction, looking almost dangerously close to tipping over, before the artificer rights herself. "This is the first I am hearing of any behemoths, but they sound like they would fit what is being spoken of potentially. But if they have been here for so long without issue, brought by dragons, why would they be a threat now?" The artificer wonders.

Another head tilt. "The dominion of Charn know the most about keeping slaves than almost any living civilization, but even they would not be able to control something that big normally. But they might be able to corrupt it somehow with magic as they are known to do sometimes, if they wished to have a measure of control over it, which would be concerning."

"Skielstregar, do you remember the person who escaped in the laboratory we were in?" She asks the large silver makari. "Perhaps we could see what they are currently up to through a spell, perhaps?"

There's an aside to Aelwyn and brass nods. "They are grain wraps filled with spicy sauces and spiced meats and other filling, a makari dish." She explains. "Food and culture are important, I guess if that answers it?"

Visions, dreams, and other foreshadowing experiences are extremely subjective and subject to many interpretations. None of the current seem remotely pleasant. Verna's face contorts into a frown. "Such a creature would be a concern of its own. The possibility that it could act under Charneth influence is another altogether..." And quite terrifying judging by the frown becoming scowl.

Her comment then turns musing aloud. "How would she manipulate such an entity? To what purpose? To what gain?" She then blinks and looks to Auranar after her comments. "It is highly possible that she might wake things that should not be; interfere with powers that should not be touched..."

Some things are beyond Rune's understanding, despite having experienced more and more instances of strange occurrences. She inclines her head, acknowledging that she may very well not have a good understanding of just what this vision means. "Skielstregar is right. Regardless of what it is, we'll figure it out and fight against it. We've done so before, we'll do so again."

One pointed ear twitching at the argument, Rune reaches to lightly thumb at her necklace, the gesture a familiar one, seeking comfort in her own thoughts. "Sometimes, it makes sense to hide behind walls and hope for the best. Other times, it's better to stand tall and face whatever it is that is coming for you." She murmurs softly, "This feels like the later."

She shifts then, releasing the necklace and resting her arms on her belt. Rune seems about to say something, but then Schara points out a possible path. The rogue gives a quick look to Verna, lingering there just a split second too long before coming back to Schara. "It's a start. I doubt we're done with them completely."

"It is as she said," Cuemoni gestures to Auranar. "Awakened by those who would seek to do harm to the People. The consequence of those who do not care for the spirits or would actively seek to do them harm to turn them against the People." There's an angry rumble in her chest.

"This is anathema to all that this one believes in. This one will do anything to prevent this vision from coming to pass, if possible." The fire druid's voice is resolute.

Aelwyn's stomach makes a quiet rumble. "Tch. If spice didn't hurt so much right now." The draconian rumbles, sliding his hand over his wrapped midsection. Tilting his head towards Rune, he nods his head. "Visions are a beginning, but it is the act that will be the end."

A flash of his teeth towards the arguing pair of makari. "Besides, walls rarely contain even one of this one's size; what hope do they stand against a behemoth?"

"It is very possible that is the case," Miquitlani agrees with Auranar. "I have served the Death-singing Dragon for many years. At times, I have been given visions of mass death that must be prevented. To prevent the scales from tipping. To prevent the Death-singing Dragon's nest from overflowing with souls not meant to die so soon."

She sighs. "Ay, but now I am old and cannot do the work myself anymore. It is why the younger warriors and shamans must."

Skielstregar rubs his face. "... alwaysss with corrupting thingsss, the Charneth..." he sighs in regards to others' conclusions.

At Schara's request, the towering, hulking silverscale shifts sheepishly on his feet. A glance to Verna. "... thisss one can remember who it wasss, even if they do not really wisssh to remember. It isss... troubling. But, erm, Deathsssinger Verna knowsss exactly which one got away, thisss one one showed the Shaman them."

More shifting. "If isss green glow with big behemoth to sssmash, then disease ssspread in lava mountain. Disease start with heat and fire. Volcano erupt, Am'shere swept in plague of hunger."

His grip on Malefic grows tight. "... we need not a repeat." A glance to the ones that want to go out of the walls. "We can slow them. Thisss place mussst not crumble."

GAME: Skielstregar rolls spellcraft: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Schara rolls spellcraft: (18)+11: 29
GAME: Auranar rolls Spellcraft: (10)+14: 24
GAME: Verna takes ten on knowledge/arcana: (10)+36: 46

"You must indeed." The elderly sound of another Sithmakar joins. She's walking, using what looks like a gnarled old stick with a gem in its center. Her pace is slow, and when she arrives, she stops for a moment, leaning upon it. There's a tired expression, and she's panting a bit from walking even this far. She's wearing what looks like a very loose robe with some metallic rims and accents to it.

There's a well armored and middle-aged Khazad next to her, who puts his hand on her side. Helping her lean. "Aye, I will nae allow these walls to fall eithah." He remarks in a rough accent.

In that moment, Skielstregar sees those who approach, there's a sudden pain behind his eyes. Like staring too directly towards the sun itself! Searing.

Schara, Auranar, and Verna however recognize it and know not to look too directly at the 'stick' in that moment. A Staff of Power that has been blessed by the Divine. Those not sensitive to magic do not see the searing sun-like light that seems to emanate from the gem.

The old woman's robes are draped in insignias of Daeus, as well as Alumivoritax. One on the left, the other on the right. She lifts her hand to the group for a moment, clearly used to people bowing before her. There's an air of incredible age and importance to her. And those with even a bit of local knowledge, would know this to be the leader of this community. 'Mother Nautkyn'.

Verna turns to look at Skielstregar as he shares. Afterwords, she simply... stares. "No... It is no error..." The words are soft, and Auranar would recognize the distant look in Verna's stare-yet-not-really-at-Skielstregar. Rather than a squeeze, her grip goes limp as thoughts churn.

Then the staff is brought out, which is enough to draw Verna's eyes. At least until she must avert them. "We must," she affirms, her prior thoughts remaining unspoken. "It could well affect many more than just those within these walls, which is likely her intent."

Aurnanar offers a curtsy to the woman who approaches, and though Verna's hand goes lax in hers, her own merely takes up what is necessary in order to remind the other woman that she is not alone. That Auranar is here, _for her_. She also politely adverts her eyes from the shining light. "We will." She says sternly.

"That's alright, that's why we're here, in order to help where needed so please don't worry about it." Schara answers with a slow nod. "This sounds bad, but that doesn't mean we can ignore or not deal with it."

"I'm sorry Skielstregar if it is troubling, but I understand to some degree, if Verna already knows that would be helpful possibly. It may be unrelated, but if they are still working on plans regarding Am'shere, it may be helpful insight that could be used to better prepare."

The artificer manages to look away suddenly, and bow their head to the newcomer.

Reaching up, Rune tugs slightly on her hood, offering a nod to Aelwyn as she quiets slightly. The rogue is a person of action, rather than a planner in many cases. Which means that she is better suited to when there is a direct task to address. "We'll do what we can to make sure the vision doesn't come to pass." She nods once to Miquitlani.

Then, Skielstregar speaks of the volcano, the lava, heat, fire that could spread the disease and cause mass destruction. She rests a hand on her blade, flexing her fingers with a feeling driven from a need to end a looming threat.

And then, the elder appears to join the discussion, causing Rune to bow her head in recognition of her role. What Rune cannot see, is the light being given off. However, those who can see it would notice that the shadows around the rogue seem to react to it in a strange way. What was a normal shadow turns into an almost living thing, with wispy, smoke like tendrils that roil around Rune's feet, showing visibly from a place somewhere along her back.

"It isss fine, Ssschara. Information isss important--" Skielstergar whirls around at the old voice- his eyes grow wide as he's utterly blinded by the staff. "Dragonfather...!" He rubs at his eyes, grunting in pain.

Malefic suddenly jumps further ramrod straight (somehow), and bites on Skiel's horns, pulling him down to bend at the waist. "Bow..!" it hisses. The halberd releases its wielder and throws itself to the ground in reverence. Skiel remains bowed, but he's just rubbing his eyes. "Sssa, we will," he rumbles. "By Hisss Light.

Cuemoni beholds the holy woman and she immediately knows this woman to be someone important and powerful. She curtsies greatly. "This one greets the divine and holy splendors of the Mother and Elder," she says. "This one pledges service to the righteous causes and powers that the Mother champions."

What goes unsaid is the little tail-quiver of excitement. Imagine going back to Alexandria and telling Zeke all about this!

Aelwyn looks towards the newcomer - he had enough social grace to know someone was particularly important, even if he wasn't magically inclined - or locally informed - to understand. He too bows his head, letting the wet ribbons hanging off one of his horns fall forward, before he straightens his head. "Mother." He greets.

A brief glance is given to around him in case someone wants to stab him for a potential social faux pas.

The old woman's voice is kind, as she regards the Adventurers. "I am certain that the Dragonfather brought you here, because He knew what our people needed." She answers them. "And I am certain, there will be more who will hear our plight and take the journey."

The elderly woman slowly takes a moment to behold those who have gathered. Taking in each and every one of them with intense patience. Not so much looking at who they are physically, but almost like they are gazing beyond that. Staring into their eyes. Into their persons. Taking them in.

It is Verna she halts on for a moment. "You come here with a dark tie to all of this..." The woman declares with the wisdom of the ages. "The armored one is right." Noting Schara. "Truth is without challenger, when it comes to insight."

She then turns towards Skielstregar... and then to Malefic. And she can't help but let out a coughing-laughter at the deep bows.

"You sweet old heart. I am glad to see you once more. You have not changed a bit since you last stood at my side..." Speaking not to the silver one... but the axe. She then motions to Skielstregar and Malefic. "Once upon a time, you would have been capable of felling this foe. But you must not be impatient this time."

Speaking this much has her winded, but there's this sweetness to her eyes. This tender melancholy. She lets out a small cough, and the Khazadi at her side helps her in that moment. It is very clear this woman is nearing the end of her lifespan. There's a marring to her scales, and her muscles are more sinew than strength. Yet, there is still strength there. Just... a different kind of strength.

She then steps away with the Khazadi towards the spot that Skielstregar had sat moments ago, and slowly moves to kneel, leaning on that staff, and begins to pray to the very same statue of the Dragonfather.

This leaves the group free of her presence again.

"Qui..." Otleko remarks.

"Yes." Qui answers, and looks to the Adventurers. "There is more to discuss. The shadows threaten this land as well. We will need strong warriors to halt whatever it is they are doing. The Charn have come here before, trying to take this place. They have failed time and time again. But I fear they have knowledge of our halls now, through their decades of failure."

Verna, now not eyeing the stave, catches some of Schara's comments. She is not incorrect, and yet Verna's frown flickers in a brief return, even as she dips respectfully to the elder (ancient?) mother Makari.

Who then stops to call Verna out directly. Irrefutably. Verna blinks before she gives a slight nod. "Indeed. Truth is immutable, of aid, and shall be known..." Once the Mother tends to her prayers, and Qui speaks of further details, she spares a brief glance to Auranar before speaking up. "This threat may well be different from the others; she would most certainly make use of others' failures before, but may not need to fight directly to win."

"I don't want to make any unnecessary assumptions with everything going on, but I want to help, and I can't let not knowing absolutely everything stop me from taking action, either." Schara answers the wizened makari. "Thank you, and please don't injure yourself on our behalfs. Would you like some tea? I could brew some up when I have a moment." They offer, but the mother is already gone. There's a look to Skielstregar and another tilt of their head, more towards their weapon this time.

"More to speak of, I understand. Please, share with us anything you feel may be relevant, Qui."

Auranar offers a comforting, encouraging smile to Verna when the other woman looks at her. It's really the most that she can offer at the moment. There's a lot to take in with the thought of giant monsters being possibly awakened and/or controlled by... Well. She sighs and moves a half-step closer to Verna, bumping her shoulder against that of her wife. "We will do what we must, but before that... we will do what we can. Hopefully we can stop this plot before it begins... Might it be wise to question your Lady, Verna?"

Skielstregar finally gets his eyes cleared enough to gaze upon the elderly woman. He shifts uncomfortably, the nefarious aspects of him getting him to look elseplace- towards Rune. Who was... wafting in shifting shadows?

His attention is ripped back to Nautkyn from laughter. He blinks. "... Malefic...?" he intones, picking up the halberd.

"... I...- great skies... vast greens..." the sentient weapon chokes. "... I recall now. Nautkyn. It brings me great pleasure to sense you once more," it speaks in quiet, metallic reverence. Then-- "Once upon a time? Once upon a time?! Oh were is your faith! I /will/ CRUNCH this foe with just as much gusto as if I still had blood and bone!"

Skiel stares. Bops the weapon on the side with a chop. "Ack- oh. Oh, here! Nautkyn, I remember more clearly now- hatchling get me closer!- take this! Gift of travels! Bedazzle in His Light!" Skiel holds Malefic out, the maw offering the yellow stained glass figurine of a dragon out to the high priestess.

When they leave, he gives Malefic a glare, one easily read as 'we'll talk later' before turning to Qui. "You will have usss." A glance to Verna. "And please ssshare wordsss if you think it may help. You are sssafe here, Deathsssinger."

When the elder moves away, taking that light with her, Rune's shadow seems to return to normal, looking like that of any other. The whole moment happens without her even realizing this fact, as her head had been down, listening respectfully.

However, when she does lift her hed again, it is to look over towards Malefic. "You have a bit of a history here, my friend." She states, head tilting ever so slightly. Her eyes look between the various Makari figures which seem familiar with the weapon.

With some expression of worry, she watches the elder's prayers, and then eventually looks back towards the others, "If there's more you wish us to know, now is the time. It seems like there is a lot we know, but also a lot we don't know about what we might face."

Though Mother Nautkyn is moving, Xocoh is watching Skielstregar and Malefic's outburst. So he approaches them, as the glass figuring is offered out towards the moving high priestess. He takes it in her stead, and nods to Malefic. He then approaches the High Priestess, and sets it at her side while she prays, and remains there for a moment, before returning to the group.

The blind man then tells Malefic; "She smiled, for a moment." And that is all.

Metal groans and splits as Malefic's jagged grin grows threateningly wide from that report.

Qui nods her head, before putting a hand on the younger one. There's a look shared between the two of them. A look that the likes of Cuemoni and Rune would absolutely recognize. The very specific kind of look Sith-makar share between those most special to them. Something that is subtle, but undoubtedly shared amongst those that know. Even though Qui is not, species wise, Sith-makar.

"There are many channels that lead towards the lava down below. Labyrinths and traps laid throughout the centuries to protect our place of worship. Lava paths redirected." Qui begins. "For that purpose, we have no maps, and learn as we guard this place. So that those paths never become known to our enemies."

"We fear the Shadows they mentioned could be demons, or other such beings, sent to weaken our defenses." Qui then adds. "Otleko can help a group get some understanding of the labyrinth beyond. I cannot describe it to you. It must be experienced."

Otleko nods her head. "We also need people at the walls. Making sure such shadows to not reach our watch..."

"And people to come with me." Qui then declares. "To face the Behemoth if it stands corrupted, would be foolish indeed. We must strike at those that control it. Only then, can we truly consider aiding such a being back to slumber."

Otleko is clearly not appreciating that part of the plan. Not because it's strategically unwise... but because she fears for Qui's life. She then looks to Verna. "What more can you tell us? Who is this 'Lady'? And why do you understand so much about what the Charn intend to do?"

The fire druid inclined to discussion of lava paths looks curious when Qui describes such. "It must be experienced," she says knowingly. Some things cannot be taught by any other means.

Her golden eyes nictate. "There are many things to do. This one will pledge efforts to one but not all." To do so would be overextension, and it would be foolish.

Cuemoni turns to Verna, and her tail adopts sort of a... confused, quizzical quirk to it. "Speak freely," she encourages, "should you are comfortable doing so. This is a safe place. Protected by spirits and by the Dragonfather's blessings." There's a warm rumble in her voice. She likes the intermingling of those two. It is... meaningful.

Aelwyn observes the interaction with Malefic and the Mother; a low rumble leaving his chest as he watches Skielstregar dealing with the situation in amusement. Ah, so many tongues were bitten at that moment.

Taking a step forward, he spreads his hands and glaive alike; making another more exaggerated bow as he kneels. "This one's glaive is ready for any task." The Dragoon says. "That benefits from a slice and fire." The scorched looking sith-makari leans against his weapon of choice with a flash of his teeth. "This one is yet to hear anything that we could not do something about." Except, with another glance towards Skielstregar and Malefic. Bite tongue.

Schara takes a moment to jot several lines down in her notebook, glancing to Malefic and back to the book. "Fascinating! It isn't a developed personality over time due to phenomena, but an already existing personality and consciousness reawakening, perhaps? That's quite the development, but also secondary to more important matters right now, right."

The artificer coughs and turns to listen to the others. "I will help where I'm needed, but I may, I'm sorry. I'm not sure how much time we have, but if possible, there are matters I need to attend to back home. Not nearly as important as saving a nation from Charn, but they are important to me. But I won't put this at risk due to my own selfishness."

Seeing the look that is passed from Qui, Rune can't help but reach and touch a ring that rests on one of her fingers. Just a plain platinum band that isn't worn on any significant finger. The fidgety gesture passes quickly as she lets her hands come back down to her sides.

"You have my blades where-ever they would be best suited." She explains, knowing that there are hands needed in a number of different tasks. The rogue shifts her weight, "I'll see if I can put in some calls with a few others I know who might be able to assist, as well."

Pulling his quizzical attention away from the stupidly-grinning halberd, Skielstregar turns his attention back to the ring of friends, old and new. "Thisss one can help with either the wallsss, or with facing thosse controlling the Behemoth. They... will not be good around lava..." He tugs at his collar.

"It makes him get hot headed."

"You're one to talk." Malefic bites his horn again. He sighs.

And releases to regard Rune. "Yes, Warrior Rune, I do. Much I do not remember. But I do remember Nautkyn's brilliance. Atop the mountain, overlooking. Maybe it was me, or a piece of us? I know not--" Malefic stops short, turning to gnash at Scahra, "-- I'll show you secondary! Come fight me! Metal to metal! I'll- blurggwwblbwlbwl-!"

Skiel has dunked Malefic's head into the pool nearby. ".... thisss one apologizes," Skiel deadpans, raising a brow at Aelwyn's glance. "And can call upon more friendsss."

The bump causes Verna to turn, and Auranar receives a warm look. A loving look. It is not Makari, nor is it subtle. There is even a flicker of smile; not at the situation nor topic, but at her presence. She cannot maintain it as she turns to the others, but at least it does not revert to a frown.

"I can speak to motive and tactics, if not specific details of plans." A hand gestures to Schara. "Schara is correct in that the Charneth's goals are oft slaves or resources. The banners Skielstregar witnessed are of House Calana'el-Xarr. It was one of, and perhaps now is, the most prolific and wealthy of the Charneth merchant houses whose primary commodity is slavery. They became such by the union of two houses a half-century past with the treatised bonding of Lady Varyssa Calana'el and Lord Darin Xarr. If accounts are true, Lord Darin succumbed to human age and illness a winter past, leaving Lady Varyssa to hold all."

There is a pause for breath and now she frowns. "She reveres Taara, as many mul'niessa do. Thus she purses power, wealth, and subjugation, yet not recklessly. She holds ample time to plan and prepare and is most methodical in such. I know not details of her plans, but they will be well-crafted. To deliver this plague here would be... efficient. Powered by the volcano, it would afflict many and strike at a symbol, a heart of The People, all at once."

"I will do anything and everything in my power to prevent this. Any and all information we can learn of her plans should be found and combined. I shall seek The Harpist's guidance, as well."

Auranar says nothing now, only stands at Verna's side supportively. She has after all, already stated that she will lend what support that she can, and that suffices for now.

Qui and Otleko, along with the others outside of the party, listen when Verna speaks. Listen to insight into Charn that the Sith-makar often lack. After all, the Charneth are invaders who come through portals. In the many wars fought on this land against them, striking back has never truly been possible.

But they understand one thing clearly, as Verna speaks. "She must be using a lot of resources to do this." Qui remarks. "I can't imagine that assailing this place, efficient or not, is without significant cost to her - especially if she fails."

Otleko notes however; "It also means she likely has more than enough influence to be really dangerous." With a worried look towards Qui. But the Ko-jodakh remains resolute, even beneath that look from her Cihuaa.

"The Shadow Dragon darkness will not be permitted beneath the light of the Dragonfather." Xocoh then suddenly speaks up unprompted. A rarity.

Qui nods in agreement. "For now. Let me get you all situated with some of our... 'families'." The best equivalent she can give to the softskins. "But please, continue to discuss this. I will make sure I am available to speak on this while we make preparations."

"I'm just referring to the nature of Malefic being secondary to helping everyone here for the time being, as this is very important to prevent." Schara admits, unsure if the halberd could still hear anyone or not. Her attention turns to Verna, and the artificer tilts her head, only to violently shake it suddenly. "So they may be involved heavily with this if I understand what you are saying." The artificer offers. "Perhaps accosting their holdings in Charn may help? Or it may make them prove more desperate for this plan to succeed, but it is just a thought.

"Thank you for welcoming us here as well since I did not say so earlier." she adds to Qui afterwards. "There are many preparations to make and your hospitality is appreciated."

"She does not sound the person to take a gamble on an investment," Aelwyn points out, "Yet she is willing to pay a very long and costly price. This one wonders what she truly expects to gain in return?" He rolls his shoulders; he may have asked that question before, but it still makes him wonder.

The draconian turns towards Schara then. "Perhaps delay; yet if it is truly a long running scheme, then those will be rebuilt and new plans be drawn. It is when the final trade shall take place, the coin exchanged, when there is no return." There's a slow inhale, and then exhale. "Or whence the blade is drawn, and the trade is struck in half." He slides his hand over his stomach.

"Many preparations to make, yes," Cuemoni agrees. "This one will work to befriend local spirits. See if they will aid against the shadows that are to come."

She looks hesitant about breaking away from the group, but... Then she looks over at Miquitlani, who is slinking away. "This one will go aid the elder Shaman."

Because the sooner she can aid Miquitlani, the sooner that the People can have tlahcos.

Some of what Verna says is not new to Rune, but she keeps quiet and respectful of the matters that run quite close to home for her.

Instead, she just looks to Malefic, seeming curious about how a weapon can have selective memory. Then again, maybe there is more to these intelligent blades than she understands. "It... sounds like being here will fill in some gaps in your story, then. I know I'd love to hear about some of your exploits."

What concerns Rune is the comment about being placed with a 'family'. She noticeably pales at that comment and starts to fidget with her necklace again. "We'll... have to have a talk about that. I don't make a very good house guest in the best of times." For now, however, the rogue doesn't elaborate on it.

Skielstregar somberly nods along with Verna as she regales the information bout House Calana'el-Xarr. He himself was evidence enough of their conquest. "Thisss one thinksss the Death Ssssinging Dragon will have much to sssay in guidance, Ssshaman Verna," he growls, already thinking about the challenges to come. "Thank you for your wordsss."

His tail thumps against the ground as the caretakers of this sacred place speak. "Sssa. We mussst make sssure they eat thisss cossst. Ensssure Hisss Light will overshadow that of the Deceiving Dragon!"

Malefic is pulled out of the water. "Raa!" It agrees.

Skiel looks to Schara and Rune. "Thisss one isss ssure Malefic will have ssserveral questionsss to make it priority. Worry not Rune, you can find room with thisss one to help," he tries to assuage.

Malefic grins to Rune, catching that at least. "I have several exploits! That I will love to share!" Pause. "When I remember!"

He looks to Jelzrem. "... yesss. Several wordsss to share."

Jelzrem gives Malefic and Skielstregar a poignant look when 'words to share' are mentioned. He then motions for Skielstregar and Malefic. "I will lead these two. They'll be staying with my kin." He remarks. With the insinuation of 'so I can keep an eye on them'.

"I can make general hypotheses of her goal," Verna notes to Aelwyn. "She seeks to obtain an army; amass a collection of vile and corrupted things put under her control. For her own use, or sale to others for profit." She pauses in a moment of thought. "Some means of control must already exist: she would not proceed further if it did not."

A nod follows. "If we can make it too costly for her, she might well withdraw. Unfortunately, such may not be so simple. The resources at her disposal were significant years past."

Auranar comfortingly strokes Verna's shoulder. "We will find a way." She remarks. "We are not without potent allies of our own." She smiles at the sith-makar, a small light dancing in her eyes. "We would like to be housed together if possible... Myself and Verna." She clarifies after a moment. For the sole purpose of supporting her wife of course. She watches Cuemoni wander off after the matronly sith-makar and lowers her voice to Verna.

"Do you think that they might teach me some of their recipe's if I ask very nicely?" Auranar looks hopeful.

"Hmmh. This one has seen battles fought for less for generations." The Dragoon points out. "Yet in shifting sands, the goals are shifting, the resources evermore, and what comes with a victory is a dagger, a loss a chance. And so the game is played as long as the sun rises." He rolls his shoulders, then turns to look towards Rune. "Tch, when we get kicked out, we can camp together." The Dragoon flashes his teeth.

Qui nods her head. "That will not be a problem. Family stays with Family." She answers Auranar. And hearing her speak of recipes, she can't help but give her Cihuaa a bemused look - who in turn just nods. Rune has seen that look before. The look of people who know about how spicy certain cooking can get…

-End