Day Forty Six:
Asnofre glided down to the great bridge of Duskhollow Haven, landing with a grace honed from years of practice despite the load she carried. Her cargo consisted of various spare parts scavenged from abandoned machinery across the Expanse. Sure, Duskhollow had now reached a point that many of these things could be manufactured, much of it having been reverse engineered from previous scavenges in its early days, but she liked the work. She loved her family in the Haven, but it was so crowded nowadays. It was nice to just get away, just her and the vastness of the desert stretching on and on, delving into the ruins of vanished clans and ancient peoples alike.
She remembered what Duskhollow had been like before all of this. She had been raised in the Haven during its very early days. Back then, it had just been Roksana, Yaotl, Icnoyotl, Neitou, who was also a hatchling at the time, and herself. She had watched it grow and change over time, seen many faces come and go, but at its heart it remained the same.
Today, however, felt a little different. As she entered the side of Duskhollow that housed the great workshops, there was an odd undercurrent in the air. A restlessness she couldn’t quite pinpoint. As she reached her own lab to set out her newly acquired artefacts, there was a note there awaiting her return. She recognized the seal immediately; it was the old emblem for Duskhollow, now used by Roksana as her personal mark. Putting aside her curiosities for later, she picked it up and opened it, quickly skimming through the large, delicate scrawls.
My Dear Asnofre,
There is a matter I need to discuss with you concerning your excursions. Please meet with me soon after you return.
Do not worry; it is nothing urgent, so please rest if you need to before seeing me.
Sincerely,
Roksana
Asnofre refolded the note thoughtfully. The message was curiously vague, which was not something the clan’s first leader was known for. There was also a hint of uncertainty in it, like something heavy was weighing on Roksana’s mind. Perhaps she said it wasn’t urgent, but Asnofre left to seek her out with haste.
Luckily it was still dusk when she headed back along the bridge, now joined by other dragons turning in for the night. They greeted her as she passed, but she did not stop for any long conversations. Again, there was that odd discomfort, and some dragons she new to be friends seemed to be arguing instead of laughing together as she passed them. She quickened her pace, hoping Roksana would have some answers for her. This wasn’t the Duskhollow she’d left two weeks ago.
The door to Roksana’s personal study was open and the light was on, and Asnofre could hear voices coming from inside. Approaching the room and poking her head in, she discovered none other than her grandson, Sepulchral. He turned to look at her, his newly black-rimmed eyes clouded slightly in agitation. They cleared when he saw his grandmother, and he got up to greet her.
“You’re back! We were hoping you would return soon,” he said warmly.
“Indeed we were,” Roksana agreed, though there was a slight weariness to her tone. She motioned the Wildclaw to come inside. “Well, Sepulchral, I’m afraid we will have to continue this conversation later.”
The Coatl didn’t seem too pleased with this, but he knew better than to argue with the Guardian. He said a quick farewell to Roksana and Asnofre before ducking out, the bone chimes hanging from his wings clacking together ominously.
“Would you kindly shut the door?” Roksana asked, and the Wildclaw complied before taking a seat across from the Guardian. “Thank you, dear. So, how was your most recent adventure? Find anything nice? Anything new?”
“Most of the same, but I haven’t had a chance to examine it yet,” Asnofre replied. “When I found your note, I came to see you as quickly as I could.”
“Oh! You needn’t have been worried,” the Guardian said perhaps a little too quickly. The odd silence that followed didn’t help the situation.
“… But something is worrying you,” Asnofre pointed out. “What is it?”
It was a couple minutes before Roksana answered. “About a couple months ago, a trio of young dragons set off on a journey toward the Tangled Wood.”
“… And?” Asnofre prompted. This was hardly uncommon and she was struggling to see what Roksana was so concerned about.
“They insisted upon going alone,” the Guardian continued. “Of course, they are free to make their own choices, but… I had an odd feeling about them. Truly, I am no Seer like my daughter, but there seemed to be a certain energy around them that concerned me. Not for our sake, but for theirs.” She paused a moment again to collect her thoughts. “I had a feeling that this journey of theirs would only end in tragedy. Nimbus was kind enough to construct a transmitter to locate them if they are ever in trouble, but they must activate it themselves. Now I know you are not a tracker, or a retrievalist, or dare I say a babysitter, but if I could ask a favor of you…”
“… You want me to find them?” Asnofre asked.
“Not to interfere, necessarily,” Roksana said. “Something else tells me they must do this alone. But if you could somehow keep an eye on them from a distance…”
“So you want me to shadow them.”
“Precisely.”
The Wildclaw mulled this over a moment before saying, “Very well. I will do what I can.”
“Thank you,” Roksana sighed in relief, pulling out a folder. “This is information on the three that left. Specifically, a Spiral named Blithe, a Fae named Capricious, and a Mirror named Baines. There are descriptions of their appearances in the files.”
Asnofre took the file and opened it up to look at the first one.
“This is a Bogsneak.”
“He changed into a Spiral just before he left.”
“I see.” She took a moment to skim through the files, but soon closed them. “There’s something else I wanted to ask you about.”
“Go ahead,” the Guardian nodded.
“Is Duskhollow… alright?” Asnofre asked. “When I was coming in, I noticed this odd… tension. A lot of the dragons are agitated. Has something happened?”
Roksana hesitated, running a claw through the fibers of the quill she had picked up to write in the journal before her.
“… The young trio has had another interesting effect upon the clan. When others discovered their goal to go to the Tangled Wood, some who wished the Haven still resided there became… motivated. You are aware of Sepulchral’s pleas by this point, I presume.”
“Yes,” Asnofre mused. “I’m surprised he hasn’t gone off himself by this point.”
“He does not want to leave his friends,” Roksana remarked. “Specifically the ones that will not follow him. But as his voice grew louder, it began to reveal others.” Her expression clouded much in the way it did when there was a conflict inside of her. “I thought the denizens of Duskhollow were happy here in the Expanse. But now I come to find that… there are many who are, but also many who are not. The Haven has become split, and if things continue as they are and the clan truly breaks apart…” The Guardian shuddered. Asnofre herself was becoming quite apprehensive. Perhaps for another clan, a parting of ways wouldn’t be so bad, but Duskhollow Haven was Roksana’s Charge. Tearing it in half would be literally taking half of her Charge away from her. The Wildclaw didn’t even want to imagine what that would do to a Guardian.
She opened her mouth to offer what little comfort she could, but she was interrupted by a knock on the door. Roksana bid the dragon enter, and the door opened to reveal Spellbinder. The Ridgeback’s glowing eyes swept across the room to register the current occupants, then rested back on Roksana.
“If I may,” she said with polite formality. Asnofre frowned. The only reason she spoke so sweetly was to try and lower the guard of someone she wanted to trick into giving her permission to perform her seedy experiments. “I believe I might have a… creative solution to our ‘divided’ problem.”
If Asnofre knew anything, creative to Spellbinder meant playing with forces that shouldn’t be messed with. But there was nothing she could do; Roksana was listening.
Writing again. Come. On. Pinkerton.
I actually spent much of yesterday and last night trying to think of contingency plot points in case Pinkerton pulled something like this on me, and I came up with n o t h i n g for our main group. But this idea has been floating around in my head for a while, so even though it may seem random, it's not, I promise.
Please don't make me write tomorrow, Pink. Or at least give me something to write about, for Shadowbinder's sake.
Inventory: Scatter Scroll x1, Breed Change x1
@Weredogalism @Riff @Skulljester @AstralDragons
@Petall Baines is totally the best at names. I thought of some other names for the storm seeker, but they seemed too pretentious for him. So Crow it is, lol.
@MisterMylezAll the l e g- But seriously, I would be excited to see some many-limbed, many-headed eldritch abominations, lol.
She remembered what Duskhollow had been like before all of this. She had been raised in the Haven during its very early days. Back then, it had just been Roksana, Yaotl, Icnoyotl, Neitou, who was also a hatchling at the time, and herself. She had watched it grow and change over time, seen many faces come and go, but at its heart it remained the same.
Today, however, felt a little different. As she entered the side of Duskhollow that housed the great workshops, there was an odd undercurrent in the air. A restlessness she couldn’t quite pinpoint. As she reached her own lab to set out her newly acquired artefacts, there was a note there awaiting her return. She recognized the seal immediately; it was the old emblem for Duskhollow, now used by Roksana as her personal mark. Putting aside her curiosities for later, she picked it up and opened it, quickly skimming through the large, delicate scrawls.
My Dear Asnofre,
There is a matter I need to discuss with you concerning your excursions. Please meet with me soon after you return.
Do not worry; it is nothing urgent, so please rest if you need to before seeing me.
Sincerely,
Roksana
Asnofre refolded the note thoughtfully. The message was curiously vague, which was not something the clan’s first leader was known for. There was also a hint of uncertainty in it, like something heavy was weighing on Roksana’s mind. Perhaps she said it wasn’t urgent, but Asnofre left to seek her out with haste.
Luckily it was still dusk when she headed back along the bridge, now joined by other dragons turning in for the night. They greeted her as she passed, but she did not stop for any long conversations. Again, there was that odd discomfort, and some dragons she new to be friends seemed to be arguing instead of laughing together as she passed them. She quickened her pace, hoping Roksana would have some answers for her. This wasn’t the Duskhollow she’d left two weeks ago.
The door to Roksana’s personal study was open and the light was on, and Asnofre could hear voices coming from inside. Approaching the room and poking her head in, she discovered none other than her grandson, Sepulchral. He turned to look at her, his newly black-rimmed eyes clouded slightly in agitation. They cleared when he saw his grandmother, and he got up to greet her.
The Coatl didn’t seem too pleased with this, but he knew better than to argue with the Guardian. He said a quick farewell to Roksana and Asnofre before ducking out, the bone chimes hanging from his wings clacking together ominously.
“Would you kindly shut the door?” Roksana asked, and the Wildclaw complied before taking a seat across from the Guardian. “Thank you, dear. So, how was your most recent adventure? Find anything nice? Anything new?”
“Most of the same, but I haven’t had a chance to examine it yet,” Asnofre replied. “When I found your note, I came to see you as quickly as I could.”
“Oh! You needn’t have been worried,” the Guardian said perhaps a little too quickly. The odd silence that followed didn’t help the situation.
“… But something is worrying you,” Asnofre pointed out. “What is it?”
It was a couple minutes before Roksana answered. “About a couple months ago, a trio of young dragons set off on a journey toward the Tangled Wood.”
“… And?” Asnofre prompted. This was hardly uncommon and she was struggling to see what Roksana was so concerned about.
“They insisted upon going alone,” the Guardian continued. “Of course, they are free to make their own choices, but… I had an odd feeling about them. Truly, I am no Seer like my daughter, but there seemed to be a certain energy around them that concerned me. Not for our sake, but for theirs.” She paused a moment again to collect her thoughts. “I had a feeling that this journey of theirs would only end in tragedy. Nimbus was kind enough to construct a transmitter to locate them if they are ever in trouble, but they must activate it themselves. Now I know you are not a tracker, or a retrievalist, or dare I say a babysitter, but if I could ask a favor of you…”
“… You want me to find them?” Asnofre asked.
“Not to interfere, necessarily,” Roksana said. “Something else tells me they must do this alone. But if you could somehow keep an eye on them from a distance…”
“So you want me to shadow them.”
“Precisely.”
The Wildclaw mulled this over a moment before saying, “Very well. I will do what I can.”
“Thank you,” Roksana sighed in relief, pulling out a folder. “This is information on the three that left. Specifically, a Spiral named Blithe, a Fae named Capricious, and a Mirror named Baines. There are descriptions of their appearances in the files.”
Asnofre took the file and opened it up to look at the first one.
“This is a Bogsneak.”
“He changed into a Spiral just before he left.”
“I see.” She took a moment to skim through the files, but soon closed them. “There’s something else I wanted to ask you about.”
“Go ahead,” the Guardian nodded.
“Is Duskhollow… alright?” Asnofre asked. “When I was coming in, I noticed this odd… tension. A lot of the dragons are agitated. Has something happened?”
Roksana hesitated, running a claw through the fibers of the quill she had picked up to write in the journal before her.
“… The young trio has had another interesting effect upon the clan. When others discovered their goal to go to the Tangled Wood, some who wished the Haven still resided there became… motivated. You are aware of Sepulchral’s pleas by this point, I presume.”
“Yes,” Asnofre mused. “I’m surprised he hasn’t gone off himself by this point.”
“He does not want to leave his friends,” Roksana remarked. “Specifically the ones that will not follow him. But as his voice grew louder, it began to reveal others.” Her expression clouded much in the way it did when there was a conflict inside of her. “I thought the denizens of Duskhollow were happy here in the Expanse. But now I come to find that… there are many who are, but also many who are not. The Haven has become split, and if things continue as they are and the clan truly breaks apart…” The Guardian shuddered. Asnofre herself was becoming quite apprehensive. Perhaps for another clan, a parting of ways wouldn’t be so bad, but Duskhollow Haven was Roksana’s Charge. Tearing it in half would be literally taking half of her Charge away from her. The Wildclaw didn’t even want to imagine what that would do to a Guardian.
She opened her mouth to offer what little comfort she could, but she was interrupted by a knock on the door. Roksana bid the dragon enter, and the door opened to reveal Spellbinder. The Ridgeback’s glowing eyes swept across the room to register the current occupants, then rested back on Roksana.
If Asnofre knew anything, creative to Spellbinder meant playing with forces that shouldn’t be messed with. But there was nothing she could do; Roksana was listening.
Writing again. Come. On. Pinkerton.
I actually spent much of yesterday and last night trying to think of contingency plot points in case Pinkerton pulled something like this on me, and I came up with n o t h i n g for our main group. But this idea has been floating around in my head for a while, so even though it may seem random, it's not, I promise.
Please don't make me write tomorrow, Pink. Or at least give me something to write about, for Shadowbinder's sake.
Inventory: Scatter Scroll x1, Breed Change x1
@Weredogalism @Riff @Skulljester @AstralDragons
@Petall Baines is totally the best at names. I thought of some other names for the storm seeker, but they seemed too pretentious for him. So Crow it is, lol.
@MisterMylez
.
