Road Trip to the Dragon Isles (Pashin to Ak-Krin)
09-10 Newkolt 349 AC
After taking the leader's sword, Arthur climbs onto Ag'nesallynn's back. The pair fly back toward Kashin with the dragon resuming her elven form before reaching the gate.
"We will have to find somewhere to hide this chest. There's no way we're sneaking it into the city, but I would like to have it somewhere accessible so the people those mercenaries abused can recoup their losses." She reaches into the chest and pulls out a pouch, "But, I want to make sure Donson gets paid back. We can let him know where we hide the chest and he can make sure other merchants recover their stolen wealth."
Arthur rolls his shoulder, puts on the magical goggles that allow him to see in the dark and begins to look for a spot to hide the chest. "I wonder how many poor souls they did this to, it's just wrong." The two keep searching and before long, they find a low rise with a small clump of skinny trees. Having few options, they carry the chest into the scrubby copse and cover it with grasses yellowed by the winter. Agnes takes a fallen branch and uses it to brush away their tracks.
As they work, Agnes muses aloud, "Fighting those men, making a difference, felt good. When we get back to Silvanost, we will take the fight to the Dragonarmies that lay siege to the elven realm," Agnes smiles, a grin a fierce determination.
Arthur helps her cover the tracks. "We will fight for those who cannot." He smiles at her, "Let's get back, before anyone sees us."
The pair carefully and quietly sneak back through the city gate, waiting for a moment when the guards are inside their watch shack, seeking shelter from the cold and head back to the Wounded Crow. After telling Donson where they hid the loot, they bid him farewell and depart. Ag'nesallynn reassumes her dragon form and she and Arthur take flight, slipping out of the city under the cover of a cloudy night.
As the two slip away from the city, Agnes sighs. "I know I said we should go back to Silvanost but the more I think about it, the more I think we should continue on to the Dragon Isles."
"Look, I am good with going back to Silvanost. I am also good with going to the Dragon Isles but we need to make a decision and stick with it," Arthur replies.
Agnes nods, "Let's make haste for the Dragon Isles, then."
Arthur adjusts a bit and winces from the fight earlier. "How are you feeling?"
"Barely a scratch, my love. Now, let's go!" Ag'nesallynn climbs skyward, heading toward the clouds as swiftly as her wings can carry her. Arthur pulls his cloak tightly around his body. The aches of the battle settle in as the wind bites at his skin. The constant low-level pain keeps him from nodding off despite the late hour and thinner air. The dragon's keen eyesight allows her to keep the thin ribbon of the Silvanesti River in sight. Far off to the right, the sky begins to turn pink, then orange with the approach of dawn. Black dots moving along the ground reveal the presence of nomadic hunters in search of gazelles or sheep. A low rumble in Ag'nesallynn's stomach reminds her that she hasn't eaten since the food Donson brought while she and Arthur hid in the attic of the Wounded Crow. After a few hours in the air, she and Arthur notice thin plumes of smoke rising from the cook fires of a small village in the distance.
"Agnes let's land and rest for awhile, eat and drink, we've been going for a long time."
The dragon descends and lands. Once more, she resumes a humanoid form but instead of taking on her normal elven appearance, she chooses that of a rather average human woman. She looks to Arthur, "Elves are uncommon in Khur. I think we will attract less attention if I look like this."
The sea, an extension of the Bay of Bali for lies perhaps ten miles east of village. A narrow, gravel beach separates the water from the glassy plain surrounding the village.
The settlement has perhaps one-hundred buildings, mostly arranged in two rows with a road running down its center. The sound of horses is all pervasive as is the droning chatter of thousands of people at work and play. Men race horses down the central lane, firing arrows into targets or striking gourds from the tops of poles standing at head height.
As Arthur and Agnes approach, they draw dozens of stares. The horsemen slow to a stop, the display of riding and weapon prowess coming to an end. One rider points to a pair of riders and motions for them to follow before spurring his horse forward. As the rider and mount approach, Arthur immediately notices that the horse is a magnificent specimen with a reddish-brown coat. It stands probably 14 hands tall at the shoulder with stocky legs and a broad chest. This horse would be an absolute prize stallion in his family stable, commanding high fees as a stud. Its rider, with a hawkish nose, long black hair, thin mustache, and olive skin, rides with the practiced ease of an master horseman. He is clad in a burgundy robe with a black sash. A quiver hangs from his saddle and his recurved bow is polished to a fine, golden sheen. The other two men and horses are much plainer but similar in appearance.
The trio comes to a stop, maybe twenty feet from the knight and Agnes. "Are you well?"
Arthur gives a slight bow of the head, "My name is Arthur and this is Agnes. We mean no harm. We are looking for a place to stock up on food and spend the night to rest." He looks around at the men taking in their appearance. "Your horses are magnificent, they look happy and healthy. Anyone would be lucky to have such a companion." He gives a soft smile.
The man ignores the compliment, his long mustache nearly swallowing his mouth as worry spreads across his face. "You come out of the steppe, no horses, no supplies, and looking like you have been in a fight. Speak plain."
Arthur looks to Agnes and then back to the man. "We stood against members of the Dragonarmy that stole and unjustly 'taxed' the innocent. We took the money back after fighting them and we gave the gold, silver, and copper back to those who were wronged. We left the city in a hurry and we make way for the coast. But in our haste we did not take ample supplies. We saw the smoke so we decided to make contact to try and resupply."
The man nods, "Choosing to fight Dragonarmy warriors means you are either brave or foolish. Are you pursued?"
"From what I could see? No, I do not believe we were. And if the innocent are involved I'll put my life on the line to defend them." Arthur looks him directly in the eyes.
The man strokes his mustache. "If my people become threatened, I may turn you in myself. Where are you headed?"
"We are headed to the coast, to the Dragon Isles"
"I thought the Isles were a myth. You are an honest fool, Arthur from parts unknown. Welcome to Ak-Krin. I am Batu of Mayakur. You may take a rest here and my people will provide you with supplies for a fair price."
"I thank you, Batu of Mayakur." Arthur takes Agnes' hand in his and follows him to his people. "Agnes, what do you know of these people?"
The dragon-girl replies, "The Khurs are nomadic horsemen, divided into a number of different clans with each led by a khan. The Green Dragonarmy overran the country last year but have had some trouble consolidating their control over the people."
Batu gives the order to put Agnes and Arthur into a yurt and stations guards outside of it.
"Barely a scratch, my love. Now, let's go!" Ag'nesallynn climbs skyward, heading toward the clouds as swiftly as her wings can carry her. Arthur pulls his cloak tightly around his body. The aches of the battle settle in as the wind bites at his skin. The constant low-level pain keeps him from nodding off despite the late hour and thinner air. The dragon's keen eyesight allows her to keep the thin ribbon of the Silvanesti River in sight. Far off to the right, the sky begins to turn pink, then orange with the approach of dawn. Black dots moving along the ground reveal the presence of nomadic hunters in search of gazelles or sheep. A low rumble in Ag'nesallynn's stomach reminds her that she hasn't eaten since the food Donson brought while she and Arthur hid in the attic of the Wounded Crow. After a few hours in the air, she and Arthur notice thin plumes of smoke rising from the cook fires of a small village in the distance.
"Agnes let's land and rest for awhile, eat and drink, we've been going for a long time."
The dragon descends and lands. Once more, she resumes a humanoid form but instead of taking on her normal elven appearance, she chooses that of a rather average human woman. She looks to Arthur, "Elves are uncommon in Khur. I think we will attract less attention if I look like this."
The sea, an extension of the Bay of Bali for lies perhaps ten miles east of village. A narrow, gravel beach separates the water from the glassy plain surrounding the village.
The settlement has perhaps one-hundred buildings, mostly arranged in two rows with a road running down its center. The sound of horses is all pervasive as is the droning chatter of thousands of people at work and play. Men race horses down the central lane, firing arrows into targets or striking gourds from the tops of poles standing at head height.
As Arthur and Agnes approach, they draw dozens of stares. The horsemen slow to a stop, the display of riding and weapon prowess coming to an end. One rider points to a pair of riders and motions for them to follow before spurring his horse forward. As the rider and mount approach, Arthur immediately notices that the horse is a magnificent specimen with a reddish-brown coat. It stands probably 14 hands tall at the shoulder with stocky legs and a broad chest. This horse would be an absolute prize stallion in his family stable, commanding high fees as a stud. Its rider, with a hawkish nose, long black hair, thin mustache, and olive skin, rides with the practiced ease of an master horseman. He is clad in a burgundy robe with a black sash. A quiver hangs from his saddle and his recurved bow is polished to a fine, golden sheen. The other two men and horses are much plainer but similar in appearance.
The trio comes to a stop, maybe twenty feet from the knight and Agnes. "Are you well?"
Arthur gives a slight bow of the head, "My name is Arthur and this is Agnes. We mean no harm. We are looking for a place to stock up on food and spend the night to rest." He looks around at the men taking in their appearance. "Your horses are magnificent, they look happy and healthy. Anyone would be lucky to have such a companion." He gives a soft smile.
The man ignores the compliment, his long mustache nearly swallowing his mouth as worry spreads across his face. "You come out of the steppe, no horses, no supplies, and looking like you have been in a fight. Speak plain."
Arthur looks to Agnes and then back to the man. "We stood against members of the Dragonarmy that stole and unjustly 'taxed' the innocent. We took the money back after fighting them and we gave the gold, silver, and copper back to those who were wronged. We left the city in a hurry and we make way for the coast. But in our haste we did not take ample supplies. We saw the smoke so we decided to make contact to try and resupply."
The man nods, "Choosing to fight Dragonarmy warriors means you are either brave or foolish. Are you pursued?"
"From what I could see? No, I do not believe we were. And if the innocent are involved I'll put my life on the line to defend them." Arthur looks him directly in the eyes.
The man strokes his mustache. "If my people become threatened, I may turn you in myself. Where are you headed?"
"We are headed to the coast, to the Dragon Isles"
"I thought the Isles were a myth. You are an honest fool, Arthur from parts unknown. Welcome to Ak-Krin. I am Batu of Mayakur. You may take a rest here and my people will provide you with supplies for a fair price."
"I thank you, Batu of Mayakur." Arthur takes Agnes' hand in his and follows him to his people. "Agnes, what do you know of these people?"
The dragon-girl replies, "The Khurs are nomadic horsemen, divided into a number of different clans with each led by a khan. The Green Dragonarmy overran the country last year but have had some trouble consolidating their control over the people."
Batu gives the order to put Agnes and Arthur into a yurt and stations guards outside of it.
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