Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Chapter 14: Dangers
Now, the group did not travel too much further out of the village before the sun began to set—with Aesthyrarytiss and Bejikixen riding on their horses and Nessa perched on Zaratoovir’s shoulders—and, eventually, the group came to a clearing where they could easily make camp for the night. Looking around carefully, Aesthyrarytiss nodded after several minutes of evaluating the campsite.
“This will do nicely for us,” she said. “Zaratoovir can hunt if he so desires, and move about freely without fear of knocking the trees down, and it is easy enough to fortify against an aerial assault.”
“That it is,” Bejikixen said, nodding. “And the forests are doubtless full of meat we can hunt for rations,” he added, and Nessa smiled as she threw down her pack and took her weapons with her.
“Hunting sounds like a splendid idea,” she said, smiling as she looked back at them. “I am going to do just that; it is been a little too long since I have done a bit of honest hunting. I need to reconnect with the forest,” she said, and with that, she disappeared.
“But Athearverthicha—!” Aesthyrarytiss tried to protest, but found that it was useless to do so, for the ranger was already gone. She sighed and muttered something; it was in a tongue that neither Zaratoovir nor Bejikixen could make out. When she noticed their odd stares, she cleared her throat slightly.
“Perhaps I should have mentioned that I can speak more than just draconic as if I had the blood of that plane within me…” she said quietly, and both dragon and Dragonborn looked at her as though she was still speaking in another tongue entirely.
“You… you spoke the tongue of the celestial plane,” Zaratoovir said plainly. “Very few creatures ever learn to speak the tongue of that plane… and I mean very few,” he said, and Aesthyrarytiss nodded, looking away hesitantly as she fixed her eyes on the campsite which they had to work with.
“Do not worry about the campsite,” the golden dragon said, offering a small smile. “Something tells me that you’ve been longing to get a little storytelling done… you deserve as much a chance to tell your story as this young man has, and I am curious to hear your side of the story that I have grown up with.” When Zaratoovir said this, Aesthyrarytiss whirled around in shock.
“The story that… you grew up with?” she asked, and the dragon laughed.
“Aye, for all my grandeur, young one, I am actually younger than you,” he said, and Aesthyrarytiss could only stare at him in disbelief as she sat down, her legs crossed to the side as she tapped her fingers against her armored legs. Finally, after several long moments, she cleared her throat and began to speak.
“My sister and I only just came of age in our village,” she said. “One-hundred and ten years of age… sometimes, I cannot believe that so much time has already passed since the day of our birth. However, it also means that much time has passed since that dreadful night when Isocia was almost burned to the ground—by the Charirmolik.”
“Wait,” Bejikixen said, frowning as he tapped his chin. “You mean to tell me that you and your sister were born on the very same night that Isocia was besieged by Thurkearmaekrix?” he asked, and Aesthyrarytiss nodded.
“Aye, that we were,” she said. “We grew up hearing stories about the brave clerics and paladins of Bahamut that fought against Thurkearmaekrix that night. It was those stories that inspired me to become a paladin under Bahamut. All of their different aspects working together; mind, heart, and wings… working to beat back the dragon that was attacking Isocia. They were all so in tune with one another… the Dragonborns and the spell-scales, even—casting and fighting in unison to keep the dragon back.”
“I had not heard that spell-scales were involved,” Bejikixen said, tapping his fingers together. “But, then again, they are among the best spell casters, are not they?” he asked, and Zaratoovir nodded.
“Aye, I do recall hearing about the spell-scales being involved in that battle,” he said. “So, you were inspired to become a paladin by this story, but why are you out on such a great journey?”
“Ah, yes; that part of the story,” Aesthyrarytiss said, laughing as she looked away for a moment. “Our father read a decree at a festival to celebrate mine and Athearverthicha's coming of age. It required that all adventurers who were of age to come to the city of Isocia to aid with the defeat of the dragon menace. Being a paladin of Bahamut, I could not refuse the offer to fight against him—even if I had wanted to refuse,” she said. “There was just some part of me that did not feel right refusing such a request; forget about the obligations we all have to Bahamut. If I was a paladin who served Heironeous or Pelor, I would still be on this quest for the safety of Isocia.”
“And there are few like you who still exist, Aesthyrarytiss,” Bejikixen said, his head lowered. “Most will go simply for monetary gains…”
“Aye, and that is what saddens me,” Aesthyrarytiss said, lowering her head slightly here. “So many that were good… so many that had a promising light within them… and then the opportunity to show off that light came, and the only light they seem to care about is the light that gold casts when the light hits it just right. It sickens me,” she said, and Bejikixen nodded as he looked away.
“I lived with paladins and clerics who were like that,” he said, frowning. “All they wanted was to make a little coin for themselves by ‘fighting for the just’. If they were truly fighting for the just, then they would set aside the coin and leave it behind! They would not care about the money involved; just the knowledge that they had been able to help!”
Aesthyrarytiss nodded slowly as Bejikixen said this, and the female Dragonborn turned away from the other, as though she was entering a trance-like state again. However, Bejikixen could tell that she was not truly in trance.
~~~
While Aesthyrarytiss was telling her story to Bejikixen and Zaratoovir, however, Nessa was in the forest, engaged in heavy combat with several dire animals. When she thought she had merely sunk an arrow into a common wolf, it had really been a dire wolf, and its dying howls had summoned its entire pack—and a few other dire denizens—to fight the intruder in their forest. Creature after creature kept coming after her, and the Elf woman was barely able to keep up. There was one point in time where a dire bear had knocked her over.
“Something is not right with the inhabitants of this forest…” she said quietly, pulling her bow out and shooting an arrow square between the bear’s eyes. When it let out a shriek of pain, Nessa took her opportunity and ran from the bear, leaping up into a tree and pausing there while she waited for the bear’s rage to subside. As she did, she wondered if Aesthyrarytiss, Zaratoovir, and Bejikixen were going through the same kind of trials as she was.
~~~
If there was one thing that Nessa hated, however, it was being right in dire circumstances.
As she was waiting for the dire bear’s rage to subside, a couple miles away at their camp, Aesthyrarytiss had sprung to action suddenly, startling Bejikixen (even though he could tell that she was not in a trance-like state, as she had appeared to be in). He and Zaratoovir had neither seen nor heard anything, but evidently, Aesthyrarytiss had heard something from within her meditations that made her leap up, her sword sliding out of its sheath in one fluid motion as she dove forward into the bushes, giving a frightful roar as she did so.
When her roar was answered by one almost as fearsome, however, both dragon and Dragonborn understood why she had done what she was doing.
“How is it that none of us can ever get a peaceful night’s rest anymore?” Bejikixen asked, heaving his own greatsword into the air as he brought it crashing down onto the neck of a silvery form that had passed in front of them; Zaratoovir cried out when he saw this.
“No! Do not attack him!” he cried, using his full weight to pin the silver dragon to the ground. The silvery dragon hissed angrily as its blood-red eyes (which should have been a silvery blue) glared at Aesthyrarytiss, who could only stare in disbelief.
“Thraeixen?” she said, putting her sword away. The dragon released a warning growl, trying to pry himself free of Zaratoovir’s grip, but the golden dragon held fast to the silver dragon’s neck, pinning him in place.
“I cannot believe that you are foolish enough to follow through with the guild’s quests and requirements,” the silver dragon hissed. “You’ve given up everything, and for what?—to fight against dragons that no one, not even the elders from the four metallic clans nearby here, can slay together. You purposely endanger your life, and for what? For a platinum dragon who cannot stand the notion of evil.”
“And I cannot believe that the dragon pinned before me is Thraeixen,” Aesthyrarytiss said. “A dragon that was respected in Isocia, and among the Guild of Bahamut… that served as an emissary to communicate between the guild and the dragons…and it was all just a trick? So that you could attack those adventurers who were brave enough to sacrifice themselves for the sake of their homeland?”
“And Mother and Father had promised my clutch mate to you, when the two of you were old enough…” Zaratoovir seethed, increasing the pressure he was putting on the silver dragon’s neck a little more. “Give me one reason why I should not crush your neck, right here,” he said, and Bejikixen cleared his throat.
“He is your friend—as well as mine, and Aesthyrarytiss’s as well,” he said. “Also, he did not harm any of us; therefore, killing him on the sole notion that he has turned to Tiamat with no reasonable proof would be to violate our codes of conduct,” he said, and Zaratoovir lowered his head as he growled.
“The next time you cross our path with intent to harm, Thraeixen, it will be the last time you fly,” Zaratoovir said, and as he moved his claw from the dragon’s neck, the silver dragon leapt up in the air hurriedly, knocking both Aesthyrarytiss and Bejikixen to the ground, with Aesthyrarytiss landing on top of Bejikixen. Golden eyes met red eyes with a great deal of confusion, and Aesthyrarytiss moved to stand up, her golden scales gaining a slight tint of to them as she did so. However, she found herself unable to rise—primarily because her arms and legs seemed to refuse to work, but also because Bejikixen was holding her to him gently, but also so that she could not move on her own.
“Bejikixen…” Aesthyrarytiss whispered, her eyes averted from the red Dragonborn’s eyes. “I… I am sorry, I did not mean to… to fall…” she said, but as she looked back into his eyes, something within her twisted as she noticed that his face was moving closer to hers.
“Aesthyrarytiss…” he whispered, pressing his draconic lips against hers in a gentle, loving, and tender kiss. As Aesthyrarytiss allowed herself to be taken by the kiss, she found herself forgetting everything about their troubles: the several attacks which they had endured, the incidents in Isocia, the possibility of Thraeixen betraying the Guild of Bahamut…
…there, in that moment, there was only her and Bejikixen.
It did not, however, take much to shatter the moment entirely—for, in the blink of an eye, an Elf was standing in the clearing, just in front of the dragon. She moved to speak, but when she saw the two Dragonborns, she stood completely dumbfounded, uncertain of just what it was she was seeing before her very eyes. When she dropped her swords in shock, however, it was enough to rattle Aesthyrarytiss and Bejikixen, who both stumbled over each other in an attempt to stand up, both Dragonborns’ faces taking on a whole new shade of red as they looked away from Nessa.
