Circe

Circe carefully packed her satchel with familiar articles from her den: a compass, leatherbound parchment, handmade quill and specially packaged ink, dried fruits, nuts, and jerky, basic medical supplies, and a small pouch of coins. She wasn’t sure quite how long she’d be gone, but these supplies would get her through the first few days. Wherever she ended up, she could usually forage well enough to get by and the occasional traveling merchant could provide the rest.

An adventurer and explorer by trade, Circe felt her pulse quicken with excitement merely in preparation for her next expedition. As much as she loved her clan, being stationary for more than a week or two started to make her antsy. The mirror ran through her mental checklist as she packed, making a note to visit Hayao and Sora before she left to restock her medical supplies and sharpen her weapons, respectively. Circe was particularly close with Sora, the blacksmith, as the two had joined the clan at roughly the same time and belonged to the same subspecies of Mirror known as Kobolds. Circe did not, however, share Sora’s affinity for weaponry, and only carried her dagger at the behest of the concerned blacksmith. If she needed to defend herself, Circe preferred to fight with tooth and claw. The small blade had been a gift from Sora, handmade by her friend to commemorate their bond, and Circe carried it mostly as a reminder of her when they were apart.

Satisfied she had what she required from her den, Circe took one last look around at her humble little cavern and then promptly left. Technically it was her home, but Circe only really felt at home while on an exploratory mission. Speaking of which, she yanked open a scroll from her satchel, studying the map on its surface for the thousandth time as she strolled through the clan’s main lair, headed in the direction of the apothecary. Even though she knew the map like her own scales at this point, she couldn’t resist taking another look, now that she was nearly ready to embark. She nodded to herself, visualizing the route she would take in her mind. She’d head west first, crossing into Dragonhome briefly before heading south towards the outskirts of the Tangled Wood. The map she held in her talons had come from ancient ruins she had discovered in The Windswept Plateau. Frankly, she hadn’t a clue where the map might lead her, but someone decades, perhaps even centuries ago, had thought the location important enough to make a map leading to it. And that was all the reason Circe needed to visit.

Engrossed in her parchment, Circe nearly collided with Hayao as she entered his apothecary. The Tundra male stared at her with wide eyes, but said nothing. Apologizing, she carefully stored the map in her satchel and procured a list of ingredients for Hayao, who immediately set about collecting them from his stores, humming a strange tune as he worked.

“Off to the unknown again, are we?” he mused, almost as much to himself as Circe.

“You know me,” Circe replied, chuckling a little nervously. Although she knew him well, the eccentric Tundra always caught her off guard. She watched as he carefully wrapped her ingredients into a tightly packed bundle, securing it with twine and passing it across the counter to her.

Circe tucked the parcel into the bag at her waist, and turned to thank Hayao, but the apothecary had vanished. She sighed. Yes, he was an odd one.

Undaunted, she continued to her next destination, a spring in her step. Sora was lost in her work as Circe entered the blacksmith’s shop, the heat from the forge making the room almost five times hotter than the cool passageway outside. The roaring inferno tended to dissuade most from entering the smithy at all, but to desert Kobolds like Sora and herself, the heat was nothing more than a minor annoyance. Shrike, organizing a pile of dull blades near the shop’s entrance, caught sight of Circe and approached, warmth radiating in his expression.

“‘Bout time you stopped by,” he chastised playfully, grin breaking over his face. He bowed his head respectfully to the female, as was clan custom, and Circe brushed his neck affectionately with the end of her tail.

“You know I never miss a chance to say goodbye to you two,” she chuckled.

“Sora’s been slaving away over there all morning, you know. She could use a break.” Shrike tossed a rusty halberd in the blacksmith’s direction, earning him a hiss as Sora whipped to face him, a look of pure fury written on her face. Her anger melted when she recognized Circe, however, and she shut the iron panel of the forge, reducing the noise and sweltering heat in the room by a negligible fraction.

“Leaving us again, are you?” Sora shouted over the din, sumberging the white-hot blade in her talons into a basin of cool water. Steam burst forth with an ear-splitting hiss, nearly filling the room completely. When it finally cleared, Sora was standing next to her companion, Shrike having retreated back to his rusty blades.

“You know, my offer always stands, Sora,” Circe replied. “Whenever you’re ready to take this show on the road, all you have to do is ask.”

Sora laughed loudly, the rich sound reverberating off the cave walls. She knew as well as Circe that that day would never come, but it had always been a running joke between the two. For Sora, her forge was her home, and nothing but death would part her from it.

“I know, I know. You love your work more than you love me,” Circe joked, her tail whipping back and forth playfully. “Just know, if something ever happens to me out there, it’ll be all your fault for leaving me alone and defenseless.”

“Lies!” retorted Sora, her rich chuckle resounding again. “I haven’t left you defenseless, you ungrateful swine. Now let me see that blade of yours you’ll probably never use. It’s a wonder it hasn’t dissolved to rust by now, poor thing. Sitting in that sheath untouched for years…”

Circe extended her dagger and Sora snatched it from her, caressing it lovingly like a mother would her hatchling.

“Oh nonsense, you know you made it better than that,” Circe scoffed. “I couldn’t get that thing to rust even if I tried.”

“Damn right,” Sora affirmed with a mischievous grin. “I did pretty well, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t come here to listen to you gloat.”

Sora laughed loudly again, and Circe chuckled too, her mirth contagious. “Now let me see those talons,” she ordered, nearly yanking Circe’s front leg out from under her.

“Easy there, I need those to walk you know,” the explorer admonished playfully, flexing her talons in Sora’s grasp.

“Deplorable,” Sora muttered under her breath. “Just look at them!”

The blacksmith reached for a rather intimidating-looking metal file on her workbench and proceeded to sharpen Circe’s claws with it. Circe flinched as the file scraped against her talons-- sharpening them was not a pleasant sensation, but she knew Sora would insist whether she liked it or not.

With Sora focused on her work, Circe knew better than to distract her from it. When the Mirror had finished, she gave them a final critical glance before nodding once. The job was done.

“Thanks,” Circe said sincerely, nuzzling her face against the female’s neck. Sora shoved her away, rolling her eyes but laughing all the same. She was often irked by her friend’s affinity for giving physical affection, but really she knew that was just Circe’s way of expressing herself.

Circe withdrew, sighing as she looked into Sora’s eyes. “Until next time, my friend,” she said, emotion catching in her voice.

“I know,” Sora replied softly. “Now get out of here, you restless vagabond, and don’t come back unless you find some treasure for me-- my work ain’t cheap, freeloader.”

The two Mirrors shared one last laugh together before Circe departed, flicking her tail in farewell behind her.

Brushing the tear from her eye (darn emotions), Circe shook her head and headed towards the lair’s main entrance, excitement building in her veins despite the sorrowful farewell. The unknown was what she lived for, and as soon as she was on her own, soaring through an endless sky, she knew she would forget every worry.

She paused behind the enormous waterfall that blocked the lair’s entrance from view of the outside world, little flecks of water coating her scales in seconds. Endless possibilities awaited her on the other side of that cascading deluge. All she needed was the courage to jump.

The mirror burst through the waterfall in a spray of crystal blue droplets, scattering sunlight in all directions like diamonds. With a loud whoop of joy, Circe opened her wings and soared into the warm summer sky, eager to face the unknown once more.

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Strips of leather designed to be wrapped around the wearer's neck. There is enough material in this roll to accommodate even the longest spine.

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A pair of durable leather gloves.

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A simple brown bandana tied around the neck blocks the sun and really pulls the whole look together!

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A pair of worn leather satchels designed to carry rations, coin, and other knick-knacks. They are typically slung over the shoulder.

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Kobolds are are small reptilian creatures that occupy a wide variety of biomes within Sorienth. Although each variant has unique adaptations to their environments, they are similar enough where we feel confident they can be categorized into the same species. Kobolds look remarkably like teeny, tiny Mirrors. Adults only grow to about half the size of a standard Mirror, and hatchlings are about the size of an adult Fae. They all have stunted head crests and no leg fins.

Extreme temperatures have forced Desert Kobolds to have very unique adaptations. They are crepuscular, have small, vestigial wings, and have tough, leathery, hides. Their dens are entirely underground, and their claws are large and blunted to help with digging earth. Since most of their prey is underground, they have adapted to be able feel small vibrations in the sand. Oddly, these Kobolds always seem to know where water is, so if someone is lost in the desert, it would be wise to stalk one until it leads you to an oasis.