Agravaine

don't be afraid
though the parade will not pass our way

Aquatic Relic

Trinkets

This fragment has been submersed for so long that a change in pressure could damage it.

51

Umbral Yarn

Dragonmade

A coil of dusky yarn, spun from the silky hair of the Umbral Wolf. It produces a faint howling sound as it unravels.

33

celeborn, the warmwater princess, hoards eggs. unhatched, of course, and never likely to hatch, since she uses them in her art projects - drizzles them in molten gold, or smashes them open to make a statement on the excesses of the third age, or something. agravaine would have ended up another piece of postmodernism if marlee hadn't insisted on taking an egg for their going-away present. celeborn, who had been wishing marlee would go away for several years, acquiesced. the arrangement suited marlee's strange new friends too - they were hardly going to build a cult with only the four of them.

the earth egg sat at the bottom of marlee's pack for a good long while - for the journey down, and then as they confirmed the mala really was there, and then to construct a belief system that would give it to them. finally, they had need of followers, and marlee cracked open the egg expectantly.

it was a ridgeback. marlee's serpentine tongue flicked out nervously, and they glanced over to gorkhon. "how much room do we have down there?"

"yasna can barely fit," gorkhon said, speaking for her as always. yasna was on the small side for guardians, so this was bad.

the part that came next was scarletta's plan: they would raise him until he was old enough to shove off, then make him their missionary. they would always need fresh blood, after all.

so agravaine roams the surface world, spinning glistening golden tales of a paradise he's never actually experienced, handing out sodden pamphlets; getting arrested, usually. "friends can call me aggie," he says, hopefully, at every introduction, so of course no one calls him aggie.