Spirits of the Earth

OOC: Tags to @MadEmperor

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"The Stairway to Cleven is a fearsome task. Not many use it as it once was used, but were time not of the essence, I would take the roads about, the spiral way up the Cleven Plateau, and deliver the herbs myself. I won't not consider taking those stairs again, not with me old bones and my lamed up leg," the old woman went on, hobbling across the small room, a leftward lean into her cane.

Gemla had already traveled a great distance to get here, the woman herself picking her out in the crowd and implored urgency on a mission- one she was willing to pay. It was a bit unsettling when humans approached her, especially ones by themselves, but apparently the woman had heard of Gemla on her recent travels to the town, and offered her a fair price to help deliver medicinal herbs to the old woman's grandson, who lived with his family in the secluded town of Cleven.

She knew enough about Cleven to know it was known for it's beautiful scenery- having it's plot of land on the top of a steep plateau with just two access ways to the top. There was a long, winding road that, although treacherous on even a good day,  was a far safer and easier route than the famous 'Stairway to Cleven'- an insanely tall and steep stairway that went from the bottom of the cliff clean to the top- carved mostly from the plateau wall itself, except where it parted ways and the need to use wood covered the trek where otherwise a path could not despair.  Apparently this little old lamed up lady needed to get the herbs to her grandson, or he might not live through the night. A wailing sickness had befallen half the town, and unless relief was administered within the first signs of the sickness, survival was slim to near impossible.

And the crow's note came but two days ago, and the old woman had been ready to make the trek up the stairs herself, but had fallen and nearly broken her hip, and was begging to find someone up for the task. But no dragon riders were to be found, and all with magical talents of the sort were either indisposed or not currently in the town. That left her only options adventurers, of which she was getting desperate- having little money and little connection to either.

Gemla was halfway through a beer, resting on her way home from her travels from another menial but long winded task. She was tired and eager to head home, so it was strange to be approached for help at all- normally her kind were often ignored, but perhaps that was why she had been sought out, and Gemla hadn't the heart to turn the old woman away.

"So you need me to travel up the Stairway to Cleven," she deduced.

The old woman nodded, her frown deepening before she turned to set a wicker basket upon the table. She patted the closed lid.

"Inside are the herbs my grandson needs. Thistle socks, witten-low, carmamona flour and a cinder rose."

Gemla wasn't familiar with any of those herbs, and raised a brow questionably.

The old woman smiled.
"They are to be brewed as a tea, filtered through the cinder rose and drank on empty a stomach. 'Tis a family remedy, my great grandfather suffered the same illness and it cured him nary a day. But he had drank it good and fast, and time is of the utmost importance. My grandson will need to drink this before the next sunrise, or it may be too late."

Gemla frowned at all of this. That gave her less than a day for the trek, and the stairway was still a ways from the road.

"Will I have enough time for the task? The staircase..."

"Is doable," the old woman interjected, taking Gemla's hand and imploring her. "I can only offer but a copper piece and my silver tea set as a price-"

Gemla stood, pressing the old woman's hand back to her lap and frowned.

"I will take the copper, but not the silver. I would hate to take more than that in case I don't make it."

The old woman looked relieved.
"So you will do this?" She was positively shaking. Gemla nodded. "Oh, bless you child. May the great gods of the hills watch over you and yours. And bring you luck and haste on your journey."

She explained to Gemla where her grandson's house had been, that once she reached the top of the staircase that she need only take the main road and the third left and the house was at the end of the path with the family name carved into the wooden door- Wittmy.

So with basket in hand and a large jug of water refilled, Gemla began her quest to the great stairway- which already took her nearly half the hour to approach. The stairway was quite the sight- tall and narrow, going up as if to the heavens. She couldn't even see the top, and it was so steep she nearly lost her nerves before even attempting. But then she recalled how the old woman looked, how desperate she was- and though Gelma was desperate herself to go home, she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she hadn't agreed to help the poor woman out.

So with one boot in front of the other, Gemla began to long and arduous ascent to the plateau of Cleven.

Rumor had it, if you were fast, the stairway trail took only a few hours- where as the spiral path that lead up the mountain took almost the week. Gemla wasn't even twenty minutes in before she was already red faced, despite her complexion, and sweaty and laboring of breath. She didn't want to drink already, but her lungs were burning and her legs, begging for a rest. She didn't feel she was out of shape in the least, and in fact, kept herself in top shape with daily runs and other exercising feats to keep her strength and speed about her-

But these stairs...
Another hour in and she gave in, took a seat and opened her water pouch and downed a good bit. But she had to stop herself. She needed to save enough for the remainder of the journey. And where she sat now on the narrow steps, the sight was something else- to be able to see a great distance through the trees. And the look down-
She wish she hadn't.

One wrong step meant death, and she still had quite a number of steps to go.

Was she even half way there? The only thing she could be thankful for as she started up the stairs again, was that the winds were picking up. However.. on the other hand...
She peered over at the distant horizon. Were those storm clouds rolling in? What luck if it were- how much more treacherous could the stairs become when slick with rain and wind? So, drawing in a breath, Gemla forced herself to move faster up the stairway.

She had a little boy to save, some medicine to deliver and copper to make- of which she refused to take until she returned. She just hoped she could make it in time. To think about that poor child suffering, and with his life on the line...

Gemla moved even faster still, tapping into her more disciplined spirit and pushed and moved as best she could-
and was surprised that, about a little over halfway up the stairway...

Another person was coming down.

It was known these stairs rarely had any traffic. A few people a month at best. So of course on her maiden journey she had to deal with someone going the opposite way. It wasn't as if either side of the stairs allowed for two to fit- let alone a half orc woman and another to fit. And this man was carrying a heavy load on his back, and had some momentum behind each step. He wouldn't be able to stop easily, and was in quite the hurry.

Gemla cursed and looked to the crags beside the trail. They looked lose and worn, but there was enough of a foot hole that she took a grip to the rail and stepped over, leaning out in such a way to give the man and his cargo passage so they could make it through. The man hardly gave more than a nod as he passed through, feet stomping on the wooden portion of the steps that made up most of this trek of the journey, for the plateau face had since collapsed from the trail and wooden steps had replaced it.

Gemla held her breath as the man passed, uncertain of her own footing, but not daring to challenge the rubble holding her weight. But as the man as just near pass, a damn part of his large cargo smacked the side of her head. She must not have been leaning away far enough from the staircase and she was seeing stars- and her hands, slipping from the rail. And she felt herself go down- and her heart leaping near through her mouth.

The first thing she did was tucked the basket of herbs to her belly and tried fiendishly to roll towards the underbelly of this portion of the wooden stairs than the other way- which would have meantcertain death. And as she did so, her body hit off the craggy plateau side and Gemla began to slide beneatht he stairway path and down, down, down through a plum of dusty debris her body kicked up and it seemed she wasn't losing any speed.

She had to think fast, lest she tumble away from the staircase- or plow clean through it at her speed. So she did the only thing she could think of, and pulled her dagger from her thigh pouch and tried to use it to find purchase, only it was a useless task as the first time she struck at the wall, it was forced from her hand from the impact, and the half orc woman nearly went flying from the rock face wall.

She hadn't time to think or use anything else, and threw herself bodily at the next large crag nearest the trail she could make heads or tails of-
and by the might of the Gods, she found purchased and halted in her tumble, coughing as she caught her breath as dust and debris clouded all around her, and the winds from the approaching storm offering little consolation as Gemla grimaced and realized her body stung from a thousand gashes all over her body.

At least she had stopped.
And at least she was alive.
And she still had the wicker basket, tucked close, and still sealed, holding the hopeful herbs.

As she was catching her breath, she noticed the man that had passed her going about his way without a second thought back to Gemla's fallen form. It was probably just as well. She leaned back into the rock and closed her eyes a moment, trying to get her wits about her before she'd make the attempt to climb from beneath the wooden staircase to on top of it to begin her journey again.
For herbs and hope and a scared little sick boy.

Storm be damned. She got this. She was no meager human, and slowly she began to climb over the railing and back onto the wooden steps. A tickle at her nose had her wiping off some blood to her wrist, which made her frown. Great, a nose bleed. But what else wasn't bleeding? She ignored it. A nose bleed would hardly be the end of her. But as she turned to secure her footing on the path and took another step onward-

She spotted yet another figure further up the path, making their journey downwards.

"Really?" she growled under her breath, glaring up at the skies as if glaring at the Gods themselves. The skies only answered in a rumble of distant thunder.

Thrax was panting hard, his massive chest heaving. Why, why had he agreed to play at the inn in gods damned Cleven tonight? Why did such a remote town even need an inn? How many people could possibly go there?

The large beastkin was seated on a too-small bench at one of the precious few rest platforms along the Stairway. He wasn't quite as fit as most of his even larger kin, so he didn't know if he'd even survive the arduous trek. He certainly doubted he'd beat the storm. His shamanic training hadn't progressed far enough to offer him any protection either.

"Note to self. Get the hells out of the Thunderblacks and never look back."

As Gemla continued forward, and another man was moving down the stairs her way, she noted a rest platform up ahead and...
As there some beast sitting upon it? Great, just great... that's all she needed was some animal to attack her now. She honestly didn't care who she shared a rest platform with, she just didn't want some bear or dog to maul her clean off the cliff side.

But if she wanted to safely get out of the way of the second on comer, it looks like she'd have to take a seat with the third. As she huffed and puffed her way hurriedly towards the platform, she only then noted it wasn't just some beast- but a beastily man, or rather, more notably, a gnoll. She knew enough about gnolls to know to keep her distance, probably as much as any gnoll might know about an orc.

So as she clamored onto the bench to take a seat beside the gnoll, she simply nodded at him and moved to take another drink from her pouch. Might as well rest a moment and have herself a drink. 

Her throat was so parched, that when she finally spoke, the words were hoarse and garbled, as if she were a talking rock.

"A busy day on the stairs," she commented, relidding her drink and reattaching it to the belt on her side. She peered over at the horizon, the skies ever darkening, and though ominous, she enjoyed the breeze for what it was.

At least this gnoll was wearing civilized clothing except for a few accessories made of bone. That was a good sign, right? That is, assuming he didn't take them from the corpse of some unlucky traveler that happened to be his size, but that did seem unlikely.

"You don't know the number of times I've nearly visited the Great Boneyard today. Hint: tiny stairs, big gnoll. You do the math." He spoke well, another good sign. Taking out his waterskin, he chugged several swallows worth.

She actually smiled, albeit crooked, at that. 
"You also on a fools errand?" She asked, then peered over her shoulder to see that the other person on the steps had yet to pass.

"Believe it or not, I'm supposed to perform at the inn. Stupid me didn't factor in the extra week it would take to get there the sane way." He answered with a self-deprecating chuckle. He was panting less, finally recovering enough to even think about continuing. "Seriously, what kind of madman builds a town here?"

And what kind of mad gnoll becomes a performer? He didn't even have a—did that axe on his back have strings? Yes, yes it did.

Gemla understood his frustration far too well.  He must've been waiting a time as she was still catching her breath and compared to her? He looked refreshed.

At his mention to perform, she hadn't the energy to remotely check out what he was carrying, she was just glad for the temporary reprieve. She was more interested in the person coming down the stairs to pass, and it seemed like he was taking his good old time. She gave the slow stair descender a side eye before returning her attentions back to the gnoll.

"So you're not from around these parts?" 

"I'm from Adela, but these dreary peaks are a far cry from the plains."

Thrax finally looked her over. The half-orc had a certain air about her, or perhaps he just found her kind attractive. Attractive for a furless, anyway. He was quite certain she had been raised with humans, given her general demeanor. As a performer, he needed to be able to notice these things.

"What about you? Surely you aren't from Cleven. That would be awkward." He smirked in an attempt to be charming.

She raised a brow at his inquiry, trying to decide if he was actually trying to be charming or not. She was too tired to care and rolled her shoulders and stretched out her limbs.
"No, I'm not from Cleven. And if I were, the first thing I'd have done when I came of age would be to run far away from this place."
She shook her head at the idea. "I'll never want to see another stair case again after all of this."

She paused a moment to examine the basket, still secure, the herbs within, safe. She then turned as the man on the steps was finally approaching and although she was anxious to get on with this, she wasn't looking forward to hundreds of more steps.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was in a hurry. It was the primary reason anyone risked the Stairway. Perhaps he could put some pep in her step. He just wished the Stormsinger bardic magic worked on himself.

"I have a bit of song magic that could help you get some energy back. Temporarily, mind you." He offered it eagerly, happy to test it out on someone that wasn't a gnoll.

At that statement, Gemla wasn't sure if she should laugh at him or not.
"If you're serious, that's an interesting offer. But if you're here to gloat or showcase your talents, you'd be wasting your time."
She tried for a polite smile, but she was tired, her nose blood stained and bruised from her tumble, not to mention dirty- oh, and she was part orc , and their kind always seemed to be brooding. It must have been the low brow, so no doubt she just looked tired and edgy.  The staircase certainly put her in a mood.

She moved to stand and bowed her head politely. 

"If you'll excuse me, I need to get going. Basket won't deliver itself."

To show her that he was indeed completely serious, he brought out Stormsong and rose to follow her. He then began to sing and strum a lively tune. The piece was a bit brutal, and the lyrics were in an unknown tongue, but it carried with it a sense of invigoration. It was as if electricity had harmlessly filled the muscles of all who heard it. For now, fatigue magically melted away like it never existed.

For generations, the song had been passed down from one Stormsinger to the next. With it, they could reinvigorate their warriors and hold festivities all through the night. It had been taught to them by the Stormwalker, a wandering warrior-bard who gave them Stormsong centuries ago.

Gemla would rather not have been so rude, but the long day was only going to get longer. And a child depended on her haste. So She barely gave him half a glance when he drew out his instrument and forced a little smile to atleast be somewhat polite, but when the music hit hit, she paused a moment , needing to grip the rails for it was strange because she felt completely fine! She tested out this awkward refreshed feeling by going up a few more steps with more heft and speed and was completely blown away by how she hardly felt the effort, and wasn't even winded!

Now she took the time to turn towards the gnoll and offered him a genuine , if not a bit awkward, smile. 

"That's a rather neat trick.  So you some sort of magician ontop of being a performer? Adelan dragon's... my energy feels like the boundless energy of a child's!"

And she normally didn't smile so much, but after all the stairs she just tackled and the many more still to endure? Hell, it'd be hard for her not to.

He laughed heartily at her reaction. Grinning happily as he stowed his instrument, he said, "Shaman in training, actually. Before I became a bard anyway. I don't get to use that one often; audiences don't like it when you put spells on them."

"Or maybe it's just when gnolls do it. We have a bad reputation, as you might have noticed. I have a feeling you can sympathize."

Gemla nodded.
"Yes, most certainly would not."
However at his mention about reputation, she frowned and looked away, returning her attention back to the stairs. 

"I suppose I might," She replied, back still to him as she continued onward in better,  stronger strides. Although elated for the great relief now gifted upon her, she couldn't help but feel insecure and apprehensive towards his statement. 

Sure, it was true and obvious, but she was never much a fan to hear it out loud. She supposed it was better than those who said it behind her back. 

I have a feeling you can sympathize.

Yeah. Yeah she honestly could.

Sensing her apprehension, he softened his voice while simultaneously acting nonchalant about it. "Not that I judge anyone by their blood. The Storm knows its cost me plenty of coin."

And my entire clan.

Though, as hypocritical as it made him, he'd be tempted to kill any Poisonclaw gnoll on sight.

"So, uh... what kind of 'fool's errand' are you on?"

Gemla was glad for the change of subject. 
"Taking herbs to a sick boy.  His grandmother couldn't make this journey and was desperate for help. "

So desperate she hired a half orc. 

So much for her trying not to think on it. But it was true. The woman hadn't approached her first, but was still grateful for the help. 

Beggars couldn't be choosers. 

"I'm sort of on a time crunch. Need to get to the town before night. " 

A soft rumble of thunder reminded her there was still the possibility of a storm. She frowned as the air grew darker for it. 

"The heroic type, eh?" He chuckled, though he didn't seem to be mocking her. "You sure picked a dangerous life"

He barked a solitary laugh and grinned. "Of course, danger can be fun!"

"Don't worry, we'll both get to town on time if we stick together. Or my name isn't Thraxion Swordbreaker!"

"Heroic?" She repeated and shook her head. "I wasn't going to turn the woman away. " she wasn't sure that made her a hero.  Just the statement made her feel awkward. 

And then the gnoll went on to say it could be fun. She chewed over that thought for a minute. He wasn't wrong, but part of her want sure she wanted to admit it out loud either. 

"Stick together?" Now that made her smirk.  "Last i checked we only had one option, " one direction.  "I don't intend to let the stairs win "

Thrax supposed he wouldn't have turned the woman away either; after all, he was helping this stranger. And he wasn't even getting paid for it!

"Well, now that you put it that way, I have no choice. Stormfangs never give up!" he announced boldly as they continued to climb.

"So is this town that popular to call elsewhere to find an entertainer?" She asked, winded, though thankful to magic, she could not keep a pace. And lest she admitt it, she did enjoy the company. That too, made the climb less arduous. After all, when she was alone, she had only stairs and stairs to think about.

And it was also nice that the other wasn't common, or just another simple human, giving her looks. Unless one knew her, strangers were always wary about her- unless it was a drunken idiot who was trying to bed a half orc, for fun. 

Those men were the worst. Always seeing new things as a conquest. Atleast those types gave her a reason to use 'self defense'. She should, after all, enjoy the perks through the strength of her father's bloodline.

"Apparently the innkeeper has a friend who heard me down south. So when he encountered me on a trip back from Ketra, he asked me to play here for a few nights. I was already in the area, so I thought, 'Why not?'"

It had been a mistake; that much was obvious now. Stuck on a narrow wooden stairway hanging from a mountainside was no place to be with a thunderstorm barreling down upon you.

"I should have said no. That storm is getting way too close. Just because my clan holds them sacred doesn't mean I want to be killed by one."

Gemla thought back to the song he had just played. 
"You have skill, " She Admitted.  "Perhaps this mountain top we head to could use you after all. I've been to many a taverns.  Skilled singers are a rarity. It's probably a great kindness you are coming. "

She paused briefly,  staring back at the storm at their backs. Then she looked down to him. 
"Got any songs for speed? Or to thwart a storm?" It was a jest but she wouldn't unwelcome if he had other skills. 

"Otherwise, let's pick up the pace "

Thrax grinned proudly at the compliments. Flattery, it seemed, would get her everywhere.

"I do not. My shamanic training," he answered, hesitating as he picked up the pace, "well, it never got around to those."

He wished again that his Song of Invigoration would work on the one performing it. But, no, that would be too useful.

Stupid arbitrary rules of magic.

Although Gemla felt invigorated to press on, she could tell, after sometime, the gnoll appeared much less punctual than she. She couldn't help but be observant, and slowed a little to look from gnoll to storm. 

"Is your song of inspiration fading already?" 

Or she couldn't help but feel something else was out of place  

"No, it--" Thrax paused to breathe. "--just doesn't work for the caster. Because magic is arbitrary and cruel."

The gnoll reached back and patted his axe like it were a pet. "Not you Stormy. You're great."

Gemla slowed down her pace, face twisting in confusion. But as it all sunk in, she sighed. Red eyes then went towards the skies, oncoming storm winds pulling at her dark hair.

"The least I could do is help carry your things. The magic makes these stairs a lot less formidable for me and I can't help but feel sorry for you."

It wasn't fair, and she was incredibly strong, likewise.  And her conscience couldn't just let another suffer. 

"Oh Gods, you are my hero." He gladly passed her his pack with a relieved groan. "Seriously, I'm dying here."

"I already told you my name, but people call me Thrax." He smiled toothily.

She accepted the pack and tossed it over her shoulder to lay with her own. It was strange. She hardly felt the additional weight at all. She frowned at first, but then caught Thrax's smile as the pair continued up and up the stairs.

He called her a 'hero'. Those words were rarely directed at her, and despite the context, made her feel odd. But any further thoughts on the matter were disregarded when suddenly the skies seemed to open up and it rained.

It didn't start lightly but rather the rains came down hard and quick, whipping at the pair as the rowdy winds only continuedto pick up. A flash of lightning caught her off guard, it was so bright and close. Then a loud crack of thunder announced the storm was here.

She had traveled up only a few more steps before tiny pieces of hail began to pelt the pair. This gave her pause as she peered up at the sky uneasily. Hail was never a good sign. 

"Oh, come on!" he groaned, cursing the sky. The bard regretted, not for the first or last time, that he had learned how to appease the Storm and make it spare the surrounding area its wrath. Such a spell was beyond him and might always be.

"Please tell me we're nearing the top?" he asked in complaint, covering his face with his arms the best he could.

Gemla frowned.
They were closer but still a ways away. And as the rain and hail continued to pour down more heavily, it was getting harder to see.

"Come on!" She called back to him. "We need to move faster."

Although the hail wasn't too large, it was beginning to collect on the stairs and proved moving faster was more difficult. She frowned and peered back up.

By the gods.. was there no end to these stairs?

Thrax climbed faster but, after some time, he was beginning to lag behind. "Is there really nowhere to wait out storms on this damned mountain?" he complained with a huff. "I swear, this place is a deathtrap."

Lightning flashed in the near distance. Thunder boomed almost immediately, rattling the walkway. Was this stairway safe? Safe structures didn't rattle, did they? Suddenly, he was no longer lagging behind.

Gemla scowled. Thrax's rantings were not helping, no matter how true. But he wasn't wrong.. continuing on these stairs would prove dangerous.. but what other option did they have?

It wasn't until Gemla had gone a few more steps that bad luck struck and a bolt of lightning smashed into the cliff side nearby, startling her and tripping her on the steps.

And they were too slick to find purchase and she began to fall back....

SHIT.

"Shit!" Thrax braced himself and quickly moved forward to catch her. But in his exhausted state, it took all of his strength to support the combined weight of her and the two packs.

"I have an idea, but you won't like it. Hells, I don't like it."

Gemla swore again, peering over his shoulder at him and thanked him gruffly for the Dave. But at his words, she frowned.

"Can it be any worse than this?"

"I mean, I've never done it before, sooo..." the bard shrugged. "I'm not sure I'll even work, let alone as I intend."

Gemla paused to glare at him.
"What is it already?"
At this rate the storm would claim them for sure., as the stairs began to turn into small waterfalls as the waters pelted the pair from the heavens.

"Oh! Uh, yeah, I was going to, err..." Thrax grew hesitant. Maybe it was a stupid idea that would, at best, singe his fur. But the bard pressed on. "Use my lightning-enchanted axe to absorb any lightning that gets too close. It can hold a lot of juice."

Gemla stopped dead in her tracks.

"You have a what kind of axe that you plan to.."

Was the gnoll mad!?

"An ancient mystical axe powerful enough to calm the sky. You mean you don't have one?" Thrax explained with a smirk.

"... in properly trained hands," he amended.

"... I am not those hands," he amended a second time. "I'm just the best hands available right now."

Gemla pauses to be sure he saw her pointed look.
"A great time for joking." She said with a soured sarcastic tongue.
"If you're untrained.." she went on, eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare. We must be nearly at the top..don't risk it," She hissed, tensing as her stance taunted him to just try it.

Thrax put his hands up. "Okay, okay, it was a bad idea; I get it. I won't try it."

He resumed walking, actually quite relieved that she called him on how dumb the idea was. "I'm not untrained, just so you know. I'm just not fully trained."

She frowned at his words.. almost feeling bad. But was it worth the risk when they were so close?

As if to test her, the winds swelled and the hail grew larger. Gemla cursed and looked ahead. 

She got an idea, for all it was worth. 

"The stairs.. up ahead!" She called to him over the torrent of rain and howl of winds. Thunder cracked, trembling the earth.

"There seems to be a recess beneath. We could take cover there.. come on!"
And she moved forward at a steady climb, breathing heavily as she shielded her head from the hard, unforgiving hail.

They were so close.. they had to make it...

And then she missed stepped, her scream lost in the storm as she began to fall...

Thrax scrambled to grab her arm, but only managed to catch a pack strap. "Hold on!" he grunted with effort as he pulled. He would normally have no trouble hauling her up, but hours of climbing had sapped his energy.

"I'm going to try swinging you! Hold on!" He began swinging her side to side, gradually bringing her closer to the stairs behind him.

It all happened so fast. One instance she was doomed, the next she was being yanked roughly back onto the stairs. She clung, panting and shaking as she dropped to her knees.

By the gods...


Clearly these stairs were made from the devil. 

He kneeled down to offer her help getting up. "I'm glad it wasn't me that slipped. I'm not sure you could keep me from falling, no offense."

Being big had its disadvantages: it was harder to get rescued; one was unable to fit through a great many doors; one was constantly wracking one's head on things; etc.

She sighed, the hail still pelting them mercilessly , before she finally moved to stand. 

"You've clearly never seen an orc on her rage," she told him, giving him the faintest of smiles.

"Come on. We can wait out the hail before it gets worse."

This time she made certain to be more careful, producing a small, curved dagger and used it as an anchor to help move her forward and up.

"Stay close," She warned. "I'd hate to have to tear how strong I am to catch you." And inspite of herself and the situation.. the half orc smiled.

Perhaps it was the wild rush of the storm, the very near fear but relief she was alive, but she used that moment to move until they were above the small crevice of.rock.

"Here, hold my things. I'm going to make sure the ledge is secure."

She didn't bother to wait for an objection and with the skillful grace of a predator, she climbed down and tested the stone.

Then she returned, half climbing to the stairs. 

"It offers protection from the hail, come on! We'll just have to be cautious of the rain waters."
She offered out an arm to help him, to help guide him to the pass beneath. 

Thrax's claws weren't built for climbing, but they were a sight better than using fingernails.

Upon her request, he took the packs and slung them over his shoulders.

When she returned, he took her hand and let her help him wedge his bulk into the small space. "Thanks. I think we're almost even now." He smirked.

The pair barely fit beneath the staircase together, but as the hail hammered the wooden steps- they were by far, much more protected than remaining in the elements. Though a tight squeeze- neither being a tiny being by any standard, Gemla sighed with relief that they were at least momentarily safe.

She studied the storm through the slats- the dark, ominous clouds moving like a cauldron, and winds dramatically cut back due to the rock face and steps. A flash of lightning lit up the world dramatically, and she had to wonder if the rains.. the storm.. would ever let up.

"I really wish I was skilled enough to appease the Storm." Now that they were moderately safe, Thrax stared at the storm through the slats with religious reverence. "The best I can do is pray that it spares us from further wrath."

As the only follower of his faith in existence, he implored the Storm for mercy. He played for light, for gentle winds, and for the growth that rain and fire bring. He prayed for its anger to fade.

Gemla nodded.  Better than nothing. However... if the storm didn't clear up soon... she'd have to brave it again. 

After a time the hail ceased, but the winds and rains remained, thunder and lightning still shaking the world.

"I should continue... the hail's let up."

Thrax raised a brow questioningly. "Are you nuts? What if you slip again without anyone to catch you? The hail had nothing to do with the previous fall."

Then he remembered the cause of her impatience and sighed. "Look, the medicine won't get there if you're dead either. I'm coming with you."

Although the half-orc glared at him, she knew the gnoll was right.
"Storms don't always pass quickly. And I haven't got much time. "

She studied him a moment- a soaking wet rock of fur that he was, before glancing away.
"You don't have to risk your life. I knew the dangers before taking this mission."

Even still.. she hesitated. The place they hid smelled of the wet, raw earth; and the sweet smell of summer lumber. The rain still came down in sheets, and lightning lit the sky.

He was just a singer... a bard. It was only unfortunate fate he was here with her. 

Thrax was torn. On the one hand, he was the last of his clan, and if he died, then they were truly gone from the world. On the other hand, he wasn't so cowardly as to let someone get themselves killed trying to do a good deed when he could help. Besides, safety was boring.

"Life without a little danger wouldn't be any fun." He grinned. "And I've always wondered what heroism felt like."

Gemla blinked. She wasn't sure how to respond to that. So she simply shook her head, and found herself trying not to smile.

"We'd have to survive the trek first. But.." she finally just let herself smile as she sighed. "We're almost there.."

Even still, she hesitated as she peered off at the storm, watching the lightning bolts flash in the sky.

"Ladies first." The bard smirked.

He wasn't going to be first, that much was certain. Just because storms were sacred to him was no reason to subject himself to one any more than necessary.

Gemla eyed him. Was that a joke? In spite of herself, she smiled.
"What a gentleman. "

She climbed out from beneath the stairway, studying the stone and wooden steps before her before reaching down a hand to the gnoll go help him up.

And in spite of herself, she couldn't help but jest,"Good thing we're moving. It was beginning to smell like we dog. "

"Har, har." Thrax chuckled as she helped him out of the alcove and onto the stairs.

"But you're not exactly wrong," he admitted. "Comes with the fur, I'm afraid."

He began climbing again, eager to get this ordeal over with. "I am definitely taking the long way back down. This nonsense was my worst idea ever."

With a self-deprecating laugh, he added, "Well, second worst after the lightning rod thing."

Gemla afforded him another smile. But as they moved... somehow the winds felt as though they had picked up. She paused a moment to observe the sky...

And .. did the clouds seem .. to be spiraling? She shivered. They has to keep moving. 

She looked up, then her heart leaped in her chest.
"I see it.. I see the sign for Cleven! We're almost there! Thank the gods.."

But as she turned around, her smile was immediately wiped away as the very clouds themselves seen to twist and form...

A tornado.

Thrax, in tune with storms as he was, knew without needing to look that they needed to hurry. Adrenaline revitalized his flagging energy, and he snatched his pack from her.

"Run!" he shouted over the howling wind. He ran for the town sign, praying that the tornado spared both them and the town. 

Gemla was too mesmerized to move. The creature of torn winds winding down like a thin serpent of twisting clouds captivated her. It wasn't until it touched down, force drilling into the earth with a growling, growing fury that she registered Thrax's shouting and swore.

With renewed vigor, Gemla began to charge up the staircase. Her focus was at the top , but the very real dangers behind them made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

The may have been in sight, but it might as well been an ocean away, and soon the hail was returning, the winds growing with aggression to match. 

Thrax ran, grateful that his paws were well-suited for maintaining footing on the hail-strewn steps. He was worried that Gemla might slip again, so he stayed at her back even though his instincts were screaming at him to worry about himself. He knew they could both make it.

A section of the stairway collapsed somewhere behind them, and he shouted, "Don't look back! Just keep going! We're almost there!" And they were; they only had a few steps left before solid ground. Unfortunately, those steps were beginning to tilt as their supports cracked.

And just like that.. the next foot or so of stairs were ripped clean of the cliff wall. Gemla barely managed to stop herself from toppling forward and hugged desperately to the railing.

Thrax's animal reflexes helped him maintain balance just enough to get Stormsong into position. His best chance was to pump as much magic as he could into his thunder spell and hope his aim was true. "Let go in three! Also, this will hurt!"

"3...2...1!" He played a thrumming riff that sent out a wave of force to propel him forward. He grabbed her as he passed, and the two landed in a tumble on the edge of solid ground.

Over the roar of the storm, she couldn't even question what mad plan he had, and before she realized it (expecting him to count up rather than down...) and suddenly the pair were air born.

For a moment, she wondered if the tornado had gotten them, both of them bound and free from the shackles of the long staircase that seemed never ending. But even as the whole of winds tore at them, she noted how the powerful stroke from his instrument propelled them forward, and soon the pair were tumbling onto the ground.

For a moment, Gemla couldn't believe it, hunched over in shock. But then she remembered the tornado and peered over her shoulder, grimacing. She grabbed onto Thrax's arm and yanked him along.

"We need to find shelter!" And just as she suspected, it looked as if the damn mass of wind was charging their way, towards the town of Cleven. Why couldn't anything on this journey be easy!?

"I see the inn!" Thrax shouted over the howling winds, pointing at the sturdily built structure huddled against the mountainside to their right.

The gnoll yanked her in that direction. Fighting the increasing winds, he slowly closed the gap. Eventually, he shoved his way through the doors and all but collapsed against the wall by the door.

"Never, ever, take the stairs," he huffed.

Gemla lay in a near heap, trying to catch her breath, relief washing over her, even as the howling winds outside still kept her hackles raised- or at least if she had hackles, they would be raised. She groaned and peered over at her companion.

"Let's just hope that twister doesn't aim for this place and tear it apart."

Of course, as she closed her eyes, she wondered if that wouldn't be a mercy- for her lungs burned as if all the air had been compressed and she had been breathing in sand paper. Her legs felt like rubber, and over all....

It had just been a long day.

The innkeeper laughed dismissively. "We'll be fine. The Eagle's Nest has weathered worse and only lost the sign over the door. But I'd recommend getting away from the windows, just in case."

He looked at Thrax for a moment, disbelieving. "You'll have to forgive me; when my brother wrote that the bard he arranged was a gnoll... I didn't imagine he was being serious."

Thrax chuckled tiredly, groaning. "Hey, I get it; it's unusual. And as far as welcomes go, I've received far worse."

"I had planned to play tonight, but right now I'm sopping wet and I can't move another inch," he said apologetically.

Gemla looked at the innkeep. She was glad, for the moment, he was a bit more concerned over their safety, and Thrax's 'gnollness' than he did about her blantant green skin and orcish features. She was always so used to being on her guard, so when no one was making a fuss, she just let herself lay there on the floor, closing her eyes as they insisted they would be safe...
and she wanted nothing else but to simply fall asleep.

The walls and windows rattled beneath the storms fury, but as she lay there, catching her breath- she found herself asking..
"You got anything here to drink?"

"I've got just the pick-me-up you two need," the innkeeper responded, fishing out a bottle of something bright red. The liquid almost glowed as he poured a couple of shots. He bade one of his two serving girls to take the drinks to them, along with two large mugs of water. 

Thrax sniffed at his shot, his nose wrinkling, but didn't hesitate for one more second before knocking it back. His eyes shot open. "Holy shit!" he coughed before chugging the water. "What the hells did I just drink?! Gods, it's like liquid fire!"

The innkeeper laughed, smirking, "Woke you up, didn't it?"

If the drink seemed to bother Gemla as she knocked it back, she didn't show it. Rather, she belched lightly and gave a thankful nod to the keep.

"Don't worry about the Gnoll. But if you got a few more free shots, I won't be opposed to a couple more."

Thrax gaped at her, impressed but incredulous. "How did you drink that like it was nothing? My tongue is still in pain."

"I'm wondering that myself," the innkeeper chuckled. "That was fermented dragon pepper sauce."

Gemla was, admittedly, feeling the effects of the second much more than the first but still she shrugged and grabbed for the mug of water.
"We'll call it a trade secret." But really she meant 'I'm half orc, but we're not going to discuss that now'.

She peered over at the door, it was still rattling from the winds.
"The weather often this bad here?" she asked, surprised, but also thankful it seemed the tornado didn't hit here and tear the place apart... at least not yet.

"Oh, this is bad, even for Cleven," the innkeeper answered. "But something about this plateau keeps the tornadoes from wrecking everything. We just have to build sturdily enough to withstand the winds surrounding them."

Thrax finally found the energy to get up and walk over to a safer spot further inside... at the bar. Slapping a few coins onto the table, he said, "Ale me. I need a real drink after all that."

Gemla joined him.
"Just bring me a whole pitcher." she said, sighing as she settled into her seat.

"I'd take that as a challenge, but I know better than to try and out-drink a half-orc." Thrax grinned. "I'm too tired to be proud, anyway."

He raised his tankard with a tired smile. "Instead, a toast to being alive."

Gemla raised the pitcher she has been served and nodded.
"To making it up the damn stairs," She said, giving thr gnoll a wide grin then knocked back the drink in great, thirsty gulps.

"Don't get too drunk," Thrax advised after chugging his ale. "You still have an important package to deliver."

She nearly finished her drink before she paused, sobering momentarily as she nodded.
"Thanks for the reminder. Once these winds calm, I'll make my delivery." She then looked down at her nearly empty pitcher. "Or maybe after this next drink." She then waved the keep over, ordering another.
 She then turned to regard her companion, he looked like a soggy log.
"When did you say you perform?"

"Soon as I dry off and take a quick nap, I guess," he answered with a shrug. "I'm supposed to start tonight."

"And be the house performer for a week, so you'll get a chance to hear my awesome skills if you stick around at all." He smirked.

Gemla nodded. She was served a second drink but didn't down it as greedily as the last. Infact, after two gulps she all but ignored it as she stared off thoughtfully. 

"I suppose I could stick around," She finally said, shrugging. "Although should I really punish myself after survivng all those stairs.."
And there was the faintest smile touching her lips.

Thrax laughed and smirked. "You're going to eat those words when you hear me play."

"And now you have to. If you don't enjoy it, consider it repayment for saving your life," he added.

Gemla gave a nod.
"You think you're that good?" She asked, giving him a side long glance.

"Although.. I do suppose I owe you for the magic. "

"I feel like you're not putting enough emphasis on me saving your life," Thrax teased with a smirk.

"And, yes, I am that good, if I dare say so myself." He grinned proudly.

Gemla smirked, eyes now drifting around the room. It seemed despite the situation, the pair was getting wary looks. Her smile faded. She began to study the boarded up windows, wondering if the store had passed.

Then she rose.  "I think I've rested enough. I need to make my delivery. "

While it used to bother him much more, Thrax was so used to the wary looks that he barely noticed them. His race's reputation aside, he was huge compared to humans and had a giant axe; to some degree, it was understandable that people were wary.

"Best of luck," he said with a nod.

"Thistle socks, witten-low, carmamona flour and a cinder rose." Young lady Wittmy murmured as she checked the contents of the basket. "Thank the spirits you were sent." She turned to her eldest daughter and instructed, "They are to be brewed as a tea, filtered through the cinder rose and drank on empty a stomach."

The girl nodded and rushed inside to prepare the tea.

"How can we ever thank you?"

Gemla brushed off any payment.  "Just be sure your son gets well."

After the family returned inside, Gemla hung around. She wasn't sure why, but her eyes were trained on the candle lit room. She hoped it wasn't too late.

She contemplated returning to the inn, for the night grew cold and the winds were still wild. Atleast the rains had stopped and the threat of the tornado long gone.

Instead of returning to the inn, she slipped into a wooded grove just outside the small town and sat beneath a large oak tree. She hadn't the extra money to spare for a room and sleeping beneath the stars was just as well. Come morning, she'd check on the family... then perhaps that night... watch a gnoll sing.

When Gemla finally chose to pop her head into the inn, Thrax was halfway through a lively drinking song. He was cavorting from one patron to another, getting each one to join him in singing a verse until the whole room was singing along. His voice rose above the rest, rough yet paradoxically smooth, and his playing was quite remarkable. It seemed his pride was well-founded.

When Gemla arrived at the inn, she hadn't expected that. Sure, she assumed he could play well...
But the gnoll had the entire place singing along. 

She was dumbfounded, and hesitated briefly before finally entering the tavern proper. Was everyone that drunk? Then again, the tune was catchy and the gnoll- charismatic. 

It seemed she owed the gnoll an apology... and quietly she watched from a back corner, back resting against the wall, arms folded in front of her.

The song ended with raised mugs and a cheer. Even Thrax grabbed a drink and took a swig. He slammed it down and took a bow, winking at Gemla.

Walking over, he grinned. "Told you I was good."

The place was a rowdy mess, but all in good nature. She gave a small smile as he approached and simply shook her head at his words. 

"That's very humble of you to say." She jested, a playful glint in her eyes.

A rowdy mess was exactly the way Thrax liked it. Such crowds were the most fun to perform for, even if they didn't appreciate his more thoughtful material.

Emboldened by the energy of the room, the bard smirked flirtatiously. "Oh, I'm the most humble guy you'll ever meet." 

The half orc rolled her eyes, arms still folded.
Then she looked away, towards the still cheering crowd. The energy was contagious. 

"How long you planning on serenading the crowd? Or rather.. how long they paying you for?"

Seemed it might be a waste if he were to travel all that way to just sing a song or two.  A barmaid passed the pair and Gemla ordered herself a drink.

"For the rest of the week," Thrax answered. "Longer if I decide I want to stick around."

He shrugged. "It's a good venue, if maybe a bit too out of the way for my taste. I'm told they don't often have this many people in here."

Gemla studied the room, impressed, even if she hadn't known the average number of patrons.
"So you're telling me they all climbed those stairs to hear a dog howl?" She teased, turning away only to retrieve her mug of ale.
Then she thought to his statement earlier and found herself asking ,"What would make a gnoll stay?"

Thrax scratched his ear in thought. "Honestly? Outside of a few extra days... there's nothing I can think of. I'm really not the type to stick around in one place for too long. I just play some songs and move on."

"Well, and take the occasional job from bounty boards," he added.

She raised a brow.

"A bounty board seems unlikely in such a secluded place," Gemla mused.

 "So .. what you're saying is you sing and slay. " she returned her eyes back to him, studying him, his features, truly analyzing her partner from the day prior. "Hard to imagine you in a tussle," She said with a smirk, finishing her beer and ordering another.

"I know you're teasing me." Thrax smirked. "But, like any red-blooded gnoll, I love to fight. I'm... admittedly the runt of the litter, but my magic gives me an edge to make up for it."

She heard that right; the giant hyena-man was the runt.

She shrugged at his comment about loving to fight..  she could relate to that, at least half of her could. There was a certain freeness in a fight, in having power.. strength...

Perhaps it's why part of her enjoyed his company.. not many humans she lived with could understand. It might have also been the bonding during their journey.  Who else could brag they survived hail abd tornados on the stairway to Cleven?

"So that's the whole reason you perform and learned magic? Because you're small?" Sge teased.

Thrax laughed ruefully. She was right, in a way, but even if he hadn't been born weaker, he would have been trained as a shaman. "Maybe a little bit that. But mostly because I had a the right magical affinity to control Stormsong. You see, in my clan, our shaman has to have both that and musical talent to properly use it. I happened to be a perfect fit."

He sighed deeply. "But, things didn't work out that way. So I took my skills and made a living for myself."

"And you were small," She teased again, smirking. She couldn't help herself. It was rare when she felt she could be herself around anyone.  But with Thrax? She felt a kinship. She didn't feel so.. out of place. 

Thrax huffed but smirked confidently. "Relative to other gnolls, yes. I'm still huge by any human or orc standard, so don't get any ideas."

He felt pretty comfortable around Gemla too. She understood what it was like to have one foot in two different worlds and to be judged by the actions of others who look like you but have no connection to. They would both always be outsiders.

Gemla rolled her eyes. 
She'd known of full blooded orcs taller than Thrax, but that was hardly the norm. Then again, neither of them were.

Even still.. it was nice to feel some acceptance. Orcs, after all, typically were aggressors towards men.. well.. aggressors towards most and it gave them an unsavory reputation towards the masses.

"You still performing the rest of the night?"

"Yeah. Speaking of, I should really get back to that before the patrons get restless." Thrax repositioned his strange, stringed axe.

"Any requests from the lady?" He smirked a little flirtatiously.

Gemla lifted a brow, flushing slightly.  Even though it had to be in good humor, she wasn't exactly l used to flirty men. 

She shook her head, glad the tavern wasn't elaborately lit.
"You're asking the wrong gal. I doubt you'd know, nor the patrons might accept, some of my favorite bar songs. "

"Don't want to scare the humans, eh?" Thrax smirked. "That is probably for the best for my continued employment."

"Something rowdy, all the same." He stepped back as he began to play a vigorous melody. Stomping one foot to give his song a beat, he started singing an ode to a suggestively named barmaid.

The patrons loved it. They were simply eating it up, the entire tavern near pulsing with the song.  She couldn't resist herself to tap a foot to the beat, smirking as a particularly frisky barmaid moved out to dance and animate herself to the lyrics.

The song ended with the requisite dirty joke, at which the men in the tavern were especially amused. Thrax himself joined the laughter; it was a hearty, contagious sort of sound.

"And now, good folks, something perhaps a little different." He grinned and began to play in the invigorating, pleasantly raucous style of his clan. With his skilled fingers, it sounded as if he had taught the stormy mountains to sing.

The song itself was a call-and-response number about a brave warrior designed to capitalize on the energy left in the wake of his previous song. No doubt it was adapted from a war song.

One drink turned to two, then three; as Gemla finally got herself into a nice buzz. Everyone was in a good mood. It seemed there was much to celebrate.  A young couple just got married, a man was celebrating his 79th birthday and she? She was happy to survive the damn stairs and get that little boy his medicine. 

When the corralling of the war song bolstered the room, she couldn't help but get moved along with it. War was in her blood, and their song was exciting. 

Thrax reveled in the attention as his song ended and the patrons whistled and clapped. To have his people's music appreciated was like having a part of them live on.

"Thank you! Thank you!" He grinned and bowed slightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my arms are tired, and I need a drink."

The tavern keeper poured him a tall mug of ale, and the gnoll returned to Gemla's side. "I bet that got your warrior blood pumping."

"Yes; so much that I could punch you in the face." She faked a swing and turned it into a motion to knock back the rest of her drink. Smirking, she wiped her lips off on the back of her arm and set her drink down.

"So you really tired of performing already?" She asked, ordering herself another drink. 

"I mean, it's not a complete lie." Thrax gave a sly smirk. "I had been performing for a while before you showed up and I am not built for sustained effort over long periods."

He chugged a little of his ale and belched. "I'm not built for silly human manners either," he joked.

"Are you saying I was late?" In truth, she knew she was, she had planned it that way, finding it might be strange if she showed up early and be seen as eager, or suffocating, as some might say. She always tended to keep her distance anyways, be it friend or foe, and her new relationship with the gnoll was no different.

Then he belched.

Shortly after, so did she. She simply smirked and nodded her empty glass to a passing barmaid.

"A few pitchers for the table," She said, the maid nodding and rushing off to fulfill their order.

"So are you telling me you're a performance sprinter?"

Thrax shrugged nonchalantly. "I wouldn't say late; it's kind of a 'whenever there are enough people around' gig."

When she asked her second question, he chuckled, "Well, yeah. You could say that."

"Gnolls go fast and hard." He waggled a brow at the double-entendre.

Gemla eyed him, accepting new drinks but his last comment nearly had her choking. Her cheeks turned more red as the barmaid that had been delivering laughed. 

"Shall I get you two a room?"

Thrax barked a laugh and smirked at the barmaid. "Nah. I'm just a dirty dog."

I mean, I wouldn't say no...

He picked up a drink and watched Gemla over the rim as he drank.

Oh the gods and goddesses of all the world's, she truly was getting drunk. Especially if entertaining the idea of rutting with a gnoll of all creatures got her blood all hot and bothered. Then again.. it'd been sometime since any man had actually flirted with her. Most were turned off by the height and green skin and general orcish features.. no matter how much softer her's were to a pure breed.

She shook her head, as if to shake away those thoughts.

Dirty dog.. how would they even...

Oh for the love of all those holy, why was her brain going there.

She grabbed the barmaid before she got a chance to move away.

"More drinks," She ordered.

The last day or two had been far too long. It was only right to get drunk and stupid. Might as well while in amicable company.

Thrax continued to watch her with a self-satisfied smirk. It could be his libido talking, but he thought he registered attraction in her body language. He certainly found her attractive, because unlike a human, he found orc women appealing.

"Did I strike a nerve there?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Nerve?" She found herself asking, raising a single brow at him.  "You know it takes a lot  to unnerve an orc." Or half orc, as her case may be.

She rolled her eyes catching his look and hoped to wave it off. Last thing she needed was to end up making a series of unfortunate mistakes.

Then again, even as she began to drink more she was.already ordering another round. 

"So, uh, how did your delivery go? Did you make it in time?" Thrax asked with casual curiosity between pulls of ale. He knew he should hold back before he got too drunk to perform, but he was having too much fun.

The question was sobering, reminding her of the little sick boy she has helped.
"I should check in on the family in the morning. "

"Ah, so you don't know yet." Thrax figured not knowing might be eating at her, so he awkwardly said, "I'm sure he'll be fine. But if he isn't, it's obvious to me you did everything anyone could expect to get there."

Gemla thought back to the pleading old woman, of the dangerous trek up the stairs, and then their victory of surviving the weather and her delivery of the herbs at last.

But she was still anxious.  Would the little boy live?

She simply nodded at his words. But could she have done better? Gotten there sooner... weather be damned.

"How drunk do you think we can get tonight?" Sge asked idly, eyes now on her near empty mug of ale.

"I dunno, how drunk do you want to get?" Thrax grinned. "I, for one, am fond of 'it seemed like a good idea at the time' drunk."

That reply made her genuinely smirk.
"So.. next round we race to the bottom?"

He nodded vigorously and raised his mug. "To questionable decisions!"

Then the bard downed the entire mug with abandon.

How many pitchers had she drunk? How many got her to such a stage she was laughing, full from her belly and out right teasing the gnoll in good fun and delight? In the moment, she hardly cared and it was freeing.. exhilarating.. and when was the last time she ever flirted so much? She couldn't tell if it was completely the alcohol or not, or a part of her simply enjoying that sort of rare attention. But where was the playful banter exactly going, as the conversation moved towards a very drunk Gemla proclaiming Thrax 'couldn't handle all of this.'

It was a challenge if there ever were any. And the reason of alcohol was winning.

Thrax himself had grown progressively more drunk as the conversation continued. With his inhibitions made all the more pronounced, he was more and more eager to capitalize on all the flirting.

"Is that so?" Thrax smirked drunkenly, "I'll have you know, I have very skilled hands."

She thumped her drink loudly upon the table.
"You know I'm not a lute, gnoll." She teased. "And besides, we all have seen you...perform. "

"And I'm amazing," he slurred with a proud smirk. "Jus'... Jus' think what else I'm good at."

Leaning in, he stage-whispered, "Sex stuff." He grinned.

Gemla barked out a laugh. She was nearly in tears over their flirtatious banter.

"Oh is that so?" She went on, smiling broadly. Then she shifted to lean forward so she could stage whisper into his ear.

"You know you never challenge an orc."

Or half orc.

"We're bull headed, stronger than oxen and we sure don't take shit excuses if a man or beast can't follow up on his words. You know.." she then went on, tip toing fingers up his chest as she leaned in closer, going back to a stage whisper with a smirk ,"sex stuff," She teased.

Thrax smirked. "Just the way I like it."

"And don't worry." He grinned eagerly. "You'll find I have nothing to make excuses about."

Gemla's eye lids lowered appreciatively. 
A sure man was an attractive man, and it almost seemed like she was about to kiss him as she leaned forward, but instead moved to lean her body over his, whispering naughtily into his ear.
"Well, I was always a fan of doggy style."
Her eyes glanced around, wondering if there was a corner the pair could disappear off to and rutt. If anything, after surviving the damn stairs.. they needed a little fun.

Thrax nodded excitedly. Orcish women were so much fun! Humans just couldn't compare... well, so he assumed. He hadn't yet found one interested in getting frisky with hi.

"I have a room." The bard smirked as he drunkenly wobbled to his feet. Then he headed for the stairs. "This way."

Before she could think better of it, she was following after him, laughing as he wobbled up the stairs.

"Oh, Thrax, look how you're drunk!" She teased. But her own boots were giving her some troubles herself as she slipped and caught onto the Bannister, laughing all the while.

"Am I gonna need to... to catch you again?" he laughed, greatly amused by her trouble on the much safer inn stairs.

He stumbled and almost fell back. This made him laugh harder. "Not beating us that easy stairs."

Gemla's reflexes kicked in and this time she moved to catch the gnoll.
"Careful, Fuzzy, don't need you tripping on your own tail."

She couldn't help but laugh at his remark, baring her teeth in a fierce growl at the steps.

"Yeah, or we'll chop ya into fire wood!"

"That'll shut 'em up." Thrax laughed.

Once at the top, he whooped in celebration of his victory. "I am the champion!"

"Champion of what?" She demanded, laughing as she drunkenly approached his side. "Stair cases with no ending?"

"Stairs haven't beaten me yet, now have they?" Thrax asked, as if she'd know if they had.

"Now!" He pointed down the corridor confidently, but then he wavered. "Where were we going, again?"

"What else do we do? We need to get up these damn stairs!" She barked out with a confident laugh.
"And you..." she approached with a leer. "I think you owe me an... explanation. "

"An explanation?" Thrax asked with a perplexed blink. "For what? How you only have one step to go?"

She blinked and looked down, but then jammed a finger into his furry chest.
"Don't be deceived by the stairs so easily, Thraxian! They just want you to believe that's all you have left! And.." she went on, huffing. "I meant an explanation of your.. skills."

With sex on the brain, he could only assume that was what she was talking about.

"Well, you aren't the first to want to ride the gnoll-wagon..." he replied with a smirk. "And practice makes perfect."

"Oh? Are you suggesting this won't be a single go?" She asked, grinning drunkenly.

"You think you'll be able to experience all of this in one go?" Thrax grinned with drunken confidence, motioning toward his body. He was handsome (for a gnoll), and he knew it.

She rolled her eyes, still smirking coyly. "Apparently you've never been with a half orc," She went on,  playful challenge to her tone.

"Nah, just a full orc once." Thrax grinned, meeting her challenge. He was sore for the better part of a week, but it was worth it.

He looked down the hall and led the way towards his room. "Our battlefield awaits."

Gemla raised an inquisitive brow.
"What are you implying about full breeds?" She jabbed, smirking before moving again to approach his side. How long had it truly been since she'd have such fun?


And when an entire glass window from the front of the building exploded open- it only sealed her fate this 'fun' would have to wait even longer. A sudden roar shook the entire building and Gemla clutched into the nearby railing as she spun around. 

The pair were lucky the glass shards didn't blast their way, but it still littered the ground below them in a sea of glittering shards. 

"What the hell was that?"

And the panick crowd answered. 

"Monster!!"

And Gemla looked to Thrax.

"Storm it..." Thrax groaned, the moment spoiled. He loved a good battle, but not as much as what had been about to happen.

Sighing, he looked over at her, somewhat sobered. "I guess we can't ignore that and still live with ourselves, huh? Stupid morals."

He turned around and descended the stairs, his drunken wobble nearly gone. Electricity sparked as he hefted his axe just before disappearing around the corner of the stairwell.

Gemla flew down the stairs after him, only to stumble back when the massive head of a beast was snapping at the now broken windows of the tavern. 

That..the thing was huge. Was it some sort of a dragon? Gods above.. how did monsters get that big?

She turned to Thrax, then noticed the cowering bar keep and rushed to his side behind the bar.

"What is that thing?! And is it normal for it to show up here!?"

At first the bar keep was too stunned to speak, but eventually sputtered.

"It.. it must be the dragon from the ravine. Storm must've awakened it!"

Great. So it was a dragon. She flattened her lips and turned towards Thrax. 

"We need to get these people to safety. "

Thrax nodded and faced the innkeeper. "There any way out of here that isn't blocked by a dragon?"

The frightened human nodded, his eyes wide. "Y-yes, th-through the kitchen."

The bard looked at Gemla. "You guide people out. I'll keep it distracted, then bug out myself."

Gemla grabbed onto his arm roughly. 
"I don't know if the kitchen will work! If we truly are dealing with a dragon, what's to stop it from smashing up the building?"

She turned to eye the kitchen, but then noted an open door on the back. Were those stairs leading down?

She turned towards the innkeeper.

"Is there a basement in here?"

But another window was smashed inwards, half od the building falling with it before the innkeep could even reply.

Shit.

"Right. Building collapsing." Thrax sighed. "Okay. Same plan, but to the basement."

He rushed to a remaining corner opposite the basement stairs and, in his loudest performer voice, shouted, "Hey! Eyes on me, you big, ugly lizard!"

Its great head turned to snarl at the gnoll, eyes narrowing indignantly enough for Thrax to wonder if it was the intelligent variety that understood common. So maybe insulting it wasn't the best idea. At least it wasn't trying to eat anyone else at the moment.

Gemla waved towards the kitchen, calling towards the cowering crowd. 
"Come on! Move it! To the stairs... in the basement.  Hurry!"

She looked over her shoulder at the gnoll, facing down the beast alone. She wanted to rush over, to help.. to fight, but there'd be no one to protect if they couldn't get these people someplace  safe. The basement wasn't ideal, but if the building were to collapse, they would be offered some protection. Just hopefully they wouldn't get buried alive.

Thrax had no intention of actually fighting the beast. He only needed to buy some time. He just hoped he didn't irritate it too much. Getting eaten wasn't the plan.

"You understood that, I take it," he chuckled nervously.

The dragon snorted.

The bard presented his instrument. "How about a song? Might make you less... grumpy." He began strumming a soothing tune and singing a polite request not to get eaten, or fried, or smashed.

It felt like she was moving through waters with how slow everything was. In reality, the patrons were scrambling for cover.  As Gemla continued to usher the people she peered over at Thrax who..


Wait.. what was he doing!?
Was he actually..singing?!

The last of the people finally finally made it down the stairs and she called after them to remain hunkered down before throwing the door closed and rushing, battle axe ready, at Thrax's side.

"Thrax.. what are you doing?"

The danger of the dragon sobered her right quick... but was the gnoll still drunk!?

The dragon snorted, and Gemla braced her sword, roaring at the beast in a defiant rage. 

Then the most unexpected thing happened next  


The dragon laughed.

"I never said I'd throw my life away attacking it!" Thrax whispered.

Then, it laughed.

The bard's playing came to an abrupt halt. "Uh..." he laughed nervously, "I really hope that's a good laugh."

"You are the two from the staircase.." the dragon hissed, it's words harsh to her ears as Gemla visibly flinched. "Survivors of the cyclone.." it then added in a feral purr.

Gemla wasn't sure what to say so she simply stood there; gaping and dumb founded as it spoke. 

While Gemla could plainly see the fur on his neck standing on end, Thrax maintained his showman's composure in the face of the dragon. Words, however, took a moment to stop hiding.

"That's me: conqueror of stairs, bard of the storm, occasional bounty hunter, lover of orcs, and, hopefully, soother of irritable dragons." Thrax gave the dragon a charming, if uncertain, grin.

The dragon growled, the sound vibrating the very ground. 
"More storms come... you..." the dragon continued in its gravely voice. Your weapon.. I can smell its magic. Speak and confess what it is you hold.."
It wasn't an option, especially the way the dragon's gaze grew more direct and somehow, that voice more direct.

Thrax gulped. "It's called Stormsong. It's enchanted with the power of a great thunderstorm. My people only ever discovered how to harness a fraction of that power, certainly not enough to call storms," the gnoll explained. "I promise you it did not cause the storm that woke you."

"You expect me to believe you, talking dog?" The dragon sneered. "I can smell the power from your weapon and the skies reach for it with purpose. "

"I'm in no position to risk lying to a dragon," he answered, beginning to get nervous. "And if the storms are attracted to Stormsong, then they never have before in the hundreds of years my people have had it. Nothing I'm aware of has changed that."

The dragon narrowed its eyes at the gnoll.
"Nothing.. until today.." the dragon growled, swishing its tail,  not unlike that of amn agitated cat. "I can sense great storms are coming.. ones that will ravage and decimate these lands.. they seem to be calling out... to you."

Thrax thought it over. There certainly had been few moments of clear weather since he began his trek through the mountains, so maybe the dragon wasn't full of it after all. "Well, you destroyed my performance venue, so there's nothing keeping me in the Thunderblacks. I may as well skedaddle anyway."

Though, perhaps, he should return some day to figure out why this was happening. Stormsong might have been created somewhere in the mountains.

The dragon's eyes shimmered dangerously. 
"What makes you think I'll let you simply pass?" The dragon asked, amused.

Gemla wasn't sure what to think of all of this, as she looked over towards Thrax who was still dumb founded by all these accuasations.

"Then what is it you want?" Gemla asked, daring to take a step forward. The dragon turned its attention towards the half orc.  "Need it concern you, half breed?"

Gemla frowned.

"It does when you're aiming to hurt innocent people," she pressed, puffing out her chest and keeping a firm grip on her blade.

The bard was equally clueless as to what else he could do about the alleged problem. "Then I'll ask, 'what is it you want?' No number of lives taken will stop the storms, least of all mine. I'm the only one who might be able to quiet Stormsong."

"I could always eat you along with your weapon," growled the dragon, paws tensing as talons dug into the ground. 

Gemla flinched, staring between dragon and gnoll. Thr dragon could eat both of them in one great gulp.

"You could have done that at any time!" She found herself shouting. The dragon's eyes turned to her. "Yet here you stand and hesitate, talking to us.."

The look the dragon was giving her.. she hoped she was right about this and didn't just persuade the dragon to go ahead and gobble the pair up.

"You...need us.." she finally realizes, blinking as she turned to Thrax. "No... she needs you. "

Thrax blinked. Why didn't he think of that?

Right. Inebriated.

He smirked slyly. "Now, now, what could a dragon need from a humble bard like me? Surely it isn't a song."

The dragon growled, the effort trembling the ground.
"You're presumptive. Perhaps I am just playing with you before I eat you whole?"

Gemla shivered at that remark. It was true. It's what made dragons so dangerous- they were highly intelligent creatures who, from what she knew, loved to toy with their lessers.

Thrax scoffed playfully, "Pfft! Everyone knows gnolls taste terrible. Electric axes are even worse. I should know, I've licked blood off of it. Fur stood on end for hours."

The dragon thumped her tail as the two spoke, eyes gleaming. When the gnoll was finished, she chuffed smoke from her nostrils and allowed herself to take stock of the room.

"I would eat you for your blessings, not your fur, gnoll," She growled, more smoke curling out from her mouth as she spoke. "There is magic in you.. something primal that pulls.  It..." she blew more smoke from her nose, the room getting foggy," It is drawing those of storms like a vortex. And it is not even fully awake."

For the time, Gemla kept her eyes on the dragon but at that remark, she turned to Thrax, surprised. She was after the gnoll then? Not the artifact?

Thrax shook his head in vehement denial. "No. That's not-I mean, I have my own magic, sure, but Stormsong does most of the work. I'm sure as hells not as powerful as all that."

"I didn't get picked to be Stormsinger because I'm magically gifted. I was the only one with enough potential in the clan from my generation. And, y'know, musically inclined."

"Not calling you a liar, just... well... mistaken," he said delicately, which didn't come naturally to the gnoll.

It wasn't until Thrax spoke that some of the shock wore off..enough that the half orc could think a little.

If both the dragon and Thrax were correct... was someone else here drawing upon storm magics? It might explain the intensity of that storm. 

"And if it were another?" Gemla found herself asking the dragon. "Someone or something else possessing the storm magics you sense? We.. what he has..could it not just be coincidence and not the source you seek?"

The dragon eyed the green woman and growled softly, contemplative. 

"I sense it here.. within these lands.. upon this hill.." the dragon growled.

Gemla turned to Thrax. Did he know anything more about storm magics?

Thrax scratched his right ear thoughtfully. It was true that the weather was volatile around Cleven. He had assumed that it was just the nature of the Thunderblacks. But, now that he was actually thinking about it, there was this tingle that had gotten stronger since arriving in town.

"I wasn't thinking like a mage, so I didn't realize what I was sensing. But there's something off in this town. Like the air itself is thrumming. I think... yeah, I think I can sniff out the source."

Gemla frowned.  Their out was weak at best. But the dragon hadn't  advanced.

"Why is finding this source so important?" She pressed, not certain it was why to press, but if she was going to get gobbled up, she may as well get answers.

"You are not of the storm. You would not understand, half breed," the dragon growled.  Gemla winced through the steam from its breath as it rolled over her. Even the damn dragon felt the need to point out her flaw.

"And what of it? Maybe this half breed will cut up your face."

Stupid or not, the orc pride won over too easily since roused from the dragon's rude remark. 

"You are of little consequence to me," the dragon replied simply, now staring at the gnoll.

Thrax had to stop himself from defending Gemla, because he knew it would only risk getting them eaten. But it was difficult.

"I guess you want me to get to work,"  he said to the dragon. He sighed and closed his eyes to concentrate. Apparently having been being literal, he sniffed the air. The scent of alcohol was masking it, but he quickly locked onto the electric scent of the storm.

He opened his eyes and nodded. "I've got the scent." Stowing his axe, he crouched low and followed the scent out of the tavern.

The dragon growled, stomping a foot down barely a foot from crushing the gnoll. Gemla paled before moving closer.

"Where so you think you're going, dog?" The dragon goaded, eyes beginning to glow a soft color of lightning.

"You wanted me to hunt down the source, yes?" he asked, too busy acting the magic bloodhound to give the threat much notice.

"Also, hyenas aren't dogs. We're closer to cats, really. Appearances aside," he commented idly as he worked.

Gemla gripped her weapon, hesitant but ready to attack if she had to. And she really hoped she didn't have to. So Gemla was surprised when the dragon backed away and released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. It seemed this storm was quelled for now. 

Thrax followed his magically-aware nose into town, pausing every now and then to change direction. Storm magic tended to zig and zag like the lightning it controlled. He suddenly stopped and stood straight up, his fur on end like he'd been zapped.

"In this house. Very strong magic. We should be careful. And by we, I mean us relatively tiny folk."

Gemla followed after, the dragon keeping a close eye before it too, joined course. However, when Thrax paused infront of a house, her eyes went wide.

"This house?" She asked, bewildered.

Thrax gave her a somewhat perplexed look that suddenly blossomed into understanding. "Hold on, you mean this is that kid's house?" He groaned. "Because of course it is."

Don't be the kid doing this. Please.

Things could get ugly if it was. The bard was a lot of things, but someone who feeds children to dragons wasn't one of them.

Gemla's frown deepened but she nodded.
"I.. to be honest.." she went in, feeling truly more sober than she'd ever been. "When I brought the family the ingredients things seemed... off."

"Off how?" Thrax asked curiously, "An odd tingle in the air, maybe? The magic is strong enough that even non-mages should be able to feel it."

"It was hard to say. Not a tingle.. just.. it felt off." She wasn't sure how else to explain it. 

The dragon growled and Gemla grimaced. 

"It's here.." the dragon growled, and before she could take another step forward, Gemla stepped between the dragon and the house.

"Let me check it out first.. please," Gemla implored. "There's a sick child in there. The family has been through enough. If what you seek is in there.... "

Well they would have to figure that out when the time came .

"Well, a gnoll and half-orc are scary enough, yeah? Sure, I'm the friendliest gnoll you'll ever meet, but you've gotta get to know me," he pointed out with a slight grin.

"No offense, but you'll just make things... complicated."

She placed a hand on Thrax's shoulder. 
"You ought to wait here, too. The family.. it might be best to handle this lightly. "

The dragon chuffed, as if goading the gnoll.

Thrax nodded with a quiet sigh. She was right. A big, noisy gnoll would only be, at best, a distraction. "I'll just... try to keep our friend here from eating anyone in the meantime."

"Good luck."

Gemla gave a look to the dragon. They were lucky she was.. behaving. Although strange, she would worry about that oddity later.  So with a nod, she left the pair and approached the house, where a very shocked woman opened the door, not just because Gemla had shown up, but because there were monsters lurking just outside of her home!

"The.. dragon is actually why I'm here. And.. your son. It seems something strange is going on with Cleven. May I come in?"

The husband appeared and talked to Gemla before they all disappeared inside, leaving the gnoll and dragon alone. And the dragon growled impatiently, it's tail wagging wide and slow.

Thrax eyed the dragoness suspiciously. It was agitated but, though it wrecked the tavern, was also strangely cooperative. Was it really just after a magical snack?

"So... you ever going to deign to tell us what really has you so tense?" he asked.

The dragon tensed when Gemla disappeared within, then growled as it turned its focus to Thrax, albeit briefly before she continued to glare at the house like a wolf waiting for a rabbit to spring. 

"You think yourself perceptive, pup? These storms... how much storm magics do your people truly know?"

"We know enough to hold the Storm sacred: a great and powerful thing to be both respected and feared. Our magic reflects that, for we don't dare to manipulate the thing itself; we simply borrow some of that power for ourselves," he answered. "I was only ever taught the small spells before that path was closed to me, so I'm hardly the best example of what my people understand."

The dragon kept her gaze upon him, still stern, with smoke curling from her nostrils.

"And if one of your kind.. did not obey such laws?" She asked, eyes glowing faintly. 

"It only happened a few times, but they were put down for the good of the clan," he answered. "The only exception is children who did not know better. It's how I became an apprentice shaman."

The dragon kept her eyes trained upon him.
"You were a disobedient whelp?" The dragon asked, anxiously returning her gaze towards the house. She swished her tail.

"Was, am, and will forever be," he declared with a proud smirk. "And I wouldn't be anything else. But I do obey that taboo, else I would disrespect the memory of my people."

The air inside was tense, quiet.. not something Gemla would have suspected from a family. They were hopeful when she left, but apparently things looked rather grim, despite the remedy. 

She was allowed into the room with the child, whose breath was shallow and skin appeared ashen. Gemla frowned as she looked towards the parents, but before she stepped into the room, the mother grabbed her suddenly by the arm.

Gemla turned, puzzled and then she saw the mothers eyes go wide and a cold yellow light glowed behind them. Gemla turned to face the room again and was surprised to see the child beginning to glow.

Well, looks like they knew where the storm pull was coming from.

She lokked back towards the family.

"I need my partners to see this. They might be able to help." And she returned outside, moving quickly to Thrax and the dragon's side.

"Thrax.. you need to come here and see this. The child... you.. just have to see it."

Thrax nodded and gave the dragon a playful "by your leave" before following Gemla inside. He did his best to appear as nonthreatening as he could to the family, which wasn't particularly effective, judging by their faces. It was only the goodwill Gemla had won that kept things calm, and he knew it.

Upon seeing the boy, he cursed inwardly. "Storm... This kid is pumping out a lot of magic. I've... never actually seen anyone this potent."

He moved closer, letting his senses get a better feel for what was happening to the boy.

Although the dragon couldn't fit inside the home, it lurked closer as Gemla lead Thrax inside. Inside, the child was pulsing with yellow light. 

"So I guess it's obvious what it is.  But.. why is it? How did this child manage to suddenly have the power of storms. I mean.. he was on death's door yesterday," Gemla said softly, not daring to get too close but watched Thrax as he observed.

Thrax scratched his ear in thought as he looked around the room. "Clearly the medicine treated only his symptoms. Whatever this is, his body isn't handling it."

He turned towards the watching parents. "I'll do what I can, but I need to know a few things. First, has he done this the whole time he's been sick or after... let's say, less conventional treatment? Something like this is more likely the result of external forces. I'm not casting blame; I don't have kids, but I understand the desire to do anything for someone you love."

The parents exchanged worried looks.

"Just the hour before Miss Gemla arrived, we approached a stranger who entered the town. Called himself a mystic. Said he could heal our son..." the mother frowned and looked to her husband. 

"Are you saying this mage could very to blame? And actually made our son more ill from it?"
Now instead of sounding frightened, the man was beginning to get max.

Gemla looked to Thrax, concerned.

"Can you give us something more to go off of? Like what he looked like? His name? And did you witness what he did  with his magics?"

The mother placed a hand on her husband's arm in attempts to calm him as he went on about not being able to see his face.
"He wore a cloak!" He snapped, his anger growing. "Covered most of his face! And he went in about how 'No one else' ought to be present while he cast the spell.  I should have known better than to trust someone we couldn't watch or see his face... but.." then he sighed, dejected.  "We were so desperate. Our son... "

"We just wanted to save our little boy," the woman added, tearing up.

Thrax muttered something about unscrupulous mages making life harder for everyone, though in much less polite terms. Sure, he was a little rusty with straight magecraft but he had to try to help. This mage was messing with the order of things. The bard would have let it slide if the kid had been responsible, but this was a different story.

Looking to Gemla, he said, "You okay with tracking this 'mystic' down without me? I'm of more use here."

He turned to the parents, "That is, if you're willing to overlook my general gnollness and trust me."

Gemla frowned.

"I'm.. not sure where to look. I'm not er.. magically inclined."

But a growl from outside had her looking towards the dragon. The dragon was too large to join them inside, but her presence was there. 

"I think I'm more than capable of tracking them down," the dragon growled. 

Gemla nodded and gave another look at Thrax.

"You sure there's nothing we can do here to help?" The child's life was far more important to her than chasing down the perpetrator. 

"I suppose you can help get me a few reagents for a potion that might buy us some time. Do you know what spider nettle looks like?" he asked, "It should grow around here."

"I'll need some cloves and some cinnamon too, but the family might have those in the kitchen."

Gemla simply stared at the gnoll before sheepishly stating,"This err.. isn't my Forte. You need me to chop you down a tree or goblin? Sure, I can handle it. But.. this?"
She frowned.

"I suppose I can try. What does the thing look like?"

"Why are we wasting time on weeds when there is a rogue mage at large?" The dragon growled, it's powerful voice shaking the ground. 

Gemla looked between gnoll and dragon, her frown deepening. 

"We can't leave the child to suffer," Gemla snapped. Despite the dragon being big enough she could eat her, her orc heritage was beginning to rage.

"It's dark green with sawtoothed leaves and clusters of little black flowers. Just handle them carefully, or you'll be itchy for days. The local apothecary might even have some," he responded, silently agreeing with her sentiment.

Before Gemla had a chance to react, the woman placed a hand on her arm.

"The back path.. oh.. there is likely some there. We . We always warned the Littles not to play there." 

Gemla nodded, thankful for the tip. She gave Thrax a look before pushing her way past the dragon, who now growled at the gnoll.

"We are wasting time, gnoll."

Thrax returned a snarl, his eyes glittering as if containing a storm. He ran when his clan was being slaughtered. Not even the cubs were spared. He could have helped at least one escape, but he had decided that the legacy of a dead clan was more important.

"I've seen too many dying children to give up trying to save the one in danger before my eyes! Surely a being with such a long life can afford a little patience!"

The dragon growled, the sound like a rumble of thunder that shook the ground.

"You know not the consequences here, dogman," the dragon spat.  "If what you say is true, we must seek out the perpetrator now."

"Then tell me what really has you in such a hurry, or I stay right here, damn the consequences," he answered, afraid on a primal level but not letting it change his mind.

The dragon growled threateningly, smoke filling the room.

Then Gemla placed a hand upon Thrax.
"Maybe we can tell the parents what we need to help the child... If a dragon of all things have confronted us with a problem.... " She shook her head, staring over at the dragon's feral eyes and coughing some as the smoke washed over them. "This beast would have eaten us if things were no dire."

Gelma pursed her lips and turned to regard the gnoll, then the dragon.

"What aren't you telling us?"

The dragon growled again and retreated, Gemla staring after before she gave Thrax a look and soon followed after the retreating dragon.

Thrax sighed and nodded, reluctantly agreeing. "I suppose it doesn't take a mage to mix ingredients. I'll tell them what they need."

Moments later, he met them outside. "The parents aren't happy with me leaving the job with them, but I think they understand why."

He looked to the dragon. "I hope your reason is a good one. Not that I can retaliate if it isn't and live to tell about it," he groused.

Now that they were free of the house, Gemla cracked her neck, stretching her limbs as if in preparation. Call it anxiety, but... even the air felt.. different.

She studied the dragon then looked to Thrax.

"This is all very strange. A dragon showing up and attacking... there being this mysterious power... a sickness.. right after that storm that nearly killed us on the stairs." She frowned as she folded her arms over her chest.

It didn't help she was coming off the alcohol and the playful treat she had the gnoll just never got to have.

"Something isn't right now matter how you look at it..." and as she studied.. the dragon seemed to cast it's own strange glow. She wasn't sure if that was unusual for a dragon, but it made her frown all the same.

"Somehow the dragon hasn't eaten us... Maybe we've gotten off on the wrong foot? Could ask her her name? Maybe it'll get us more answers."

Thrax smacked his forehead. Of course dragons had names. It wasn't exactly unlike him to forget his manners, or like a gnoll to have them in the first place, but if there was a time for them, it was now.

"Apologies. I never really introduced myself or asked your name." He gave an unpolished, apologetic bow towards the dragon. "No time to waste, so I'll make it quick. Thraxion Swordbreaker, at your service. And you are, if I may ask?"

Storm, he hated every word of that. How did humans do it?

Gemla watched as the dragon looked.... soured, by all of this, swishing her tail like an agitated cat. Stepping forward, Gemla bowed her head.
"And I am Gemla. I am from no clan- being a half breed," she added, keeping her head lowered.

But then without context, the dragon's massive tail lashed out- plowing into them. Gemla didn't have enough time to respond and felt herself being knocked clean off her feet. Swearing, she scrambled to her knees, growling as she looked over at the dragon, who stood - tall and proud, with smoke curling from it's nostrils.

"ENOUGH! What are you two, a pair of fools?" the dragon bellowed. "You know not the name of the greatest dragon of these mountains? I am Yzriel! Fools!" she puffed out a threat of fire, smoke blowing past the others before her.

"Are you really the only two of this village brave enough to champion this?"

Gemla grit her teeth. Well..
That didn't go as planned.

"Ow..." Thrax groaned as he climbed to his feet. "I'm gonna feel that in the morning."

"Wait. You're... Yzriel?!" He explained, hopefully putting enough terrified wonder in his voice to hide the fact that he'd never heard of her. "Of course I know the name!  I just didn't know you by sight!

"By the Storm, the stories don't do you justice.

Gemla gave Thrax a questioning stare, before a gasp from the mother came from the partially open door.

"Y-You're... Yzriel?"

Gemla exchanged a look with Thrax.  What were they missing.

"So the rumors are true then.. you.. you became the storm guardian," the woman revealed, a look of shock and horror on her face.

Storm... guardian? Shiiit!

"You're the..." The gnoll gasped, hurriedly bowing with reverence. "Please forgive my ignorance, chosen of the Storm. I didn't know Zarnaxa had found a successor."

Every Stormfang knew of the great Dragon of Storms, but he had been alone for so long that the stories had become outdated. However, to be fair, the clan's last encounter with Zarnaxa was over a century ago when they lived closer to the mountains.

Now Gemla was thoroughly confused. It seemed the townsfolk and gnoll knew who the dragon was. Gemla just eyed her, determined and much less afraid. 

"She was once one of us. A villager from Cleven.. we.. used to play when we were little I.." the mother wavered, then dropped to her knees.
"Oh, Yzriel! Please.. please find salvation for my son! Spare him the corruption!"

The dragon looked.. almost hurt by the remarks. She turned her large face to regard the area then looked over at the mountains.

"My.. charge had escaped.. the only way to fix all this is to imprison him once again. "

"Nobody said anything about a Stormcurse," the gnoll said, superstition coloring his words. "That changes everything. We have to contain this, lest the Storm itself be tainted by this corrupted mage."

He'd be furious with Yzriel for being so tight-lipped about something so dire, but now he knew her to be a sacred being. Who was he to demand anything from her?

Gemla sighed.

"Well, it looks like we have ourselves another adventure. " she looked towards Thrax. "But this.. charge you speak of.." she looked at the dragon again. "How will we know how to track them down? And if we find them.. then what are we to do with them?"

The dragon let out a soft growl.

"Leave the being to me. We have to find him first and his powers are so sporadic and corrupt I can not easily gadge where he's been or where he's going. I know he was here.. that much was obvious.. but he could have easily moved on by now.." she growled again at that. 

The situation made a lot more sense now that the dragon had revealed her connection to the mysterious mage, or whatever he was. And quite possibly why she needed him.

"And you believe a certain bard and storm mage with a magic axe can help you find him? I believe I can, now that I know how his magic feels."

The dragon growled. 

"Do not think I sought you out. You were in my way. I thought one of you might have been.. him," the dragon went on with a sniff.

"But time is of the essence, and to ignore help would be foolish. "


Gemla looked at Thrax .
"So you were accidentally a choice "

"Good enough for me!" The gnoll grinned.

"But..." he asked, smelling the air for traces of corrupted storm magic as they walked onward, his expression quizzical, "How could you mistake one of us for him? Is he a shapechanger?"

Yzriel growled and swished her tail.
"Those blessed by dragons inherit the ability to use glamor," She stated. 

Gemla nodded, thoughtful. 

"So not only is his powers corrupt.. he is dragon blessed." She frowned.  She wasn't drunk enough for this.

"Sounds like he'll be fun to take down." The gnoll grinned eagerly, his warrior blood heating up. "Of course, if it were easy, then you'd have ended him already."

He perked up as he caught the trail again. Magic didn't have an odor exactly, but smell was his strongest sense, so it was the surest way to feel what he was looking for. "This way," he urged, moving further into town with total disregard for the fact that they were almost certainly terrifying the townsfolk. But this enemy was even more dangerous and was apparently capable of hiding among the innocent villagers. They had no idea of the true threat.

Gemla frowned. 
"You would get turned on by a cursed villian." She sighed and looked at the dragon, pointing her blade at it. "I blame you for this. " And sheathed her blade then dashed after the gnoll. He was moving fast. Did he have to move so quickly? It seemed the dragon had no issues keeping up. She sighed, keeping her eyes open and apologizing to the townsfolk as they went.

"You can't tell me your orc blood isn't reveling in the idea of an epic battle." Thrax grinned back at her just before turning down an alley between buildings. He was beginning to get the same feeling he always got before a thunderstorm, like his fur wanted to frizz out.

"We're close... I can feel it."

Well, he wasn't wrong. But unfortunately for Gemla, she had been raised by mostly humans. So human logic kept it dampened, for the moment anyhow.

"Epic battle or not... I was hoping for a different kind of evening," she grumbled, but hefted up her sword and continued to follow the gnoll. "Relaxing and drinking are also some good ways to past the time."

But.. well... She was never a person to turn down someone in need. But ugh, she knew she wasn't going to get paid for this. And some 'heroes' had to make coin to eat. But if what Yzriel said were true....

She eyed the dragon, who bristled around the same time the gnoll did.

"So are you really just going to sniff this guy out?"
Then again, maybe they would be so lucky.

"He's close," he said without his usual frivolity, almost growling. The gnoll took up his axe and rested his head against the flat of the blade, as if listening to something within. In a way, he was; he was getting a sense for the way it resonated with the storm magic in the air.

Lowering it, he said, "I won't be able to identify him, but Stormsong can." He looked up at the building his nose had led them to. It looked big and important—a temple, maybe? He wasn't sure.

Gemla blinked. That made sense. Atleast it wouldn't be like they were going in completely blind.

"So your.. weapon can.. sniff him out instead?" The idea was amusing. She then stopped before the temple, frowning.

"He's.. in there?" She hoped not. Going in with blades raised inside a place of worship... wasn't exactly the wisest of ideas. 

"Where better for evil to hide than among the faithful?" the bard mused.

"We have three options: be boring and wait until he decides to exit; be nice and go in peacefully and hope nobody decides we're there to do harm anyway; or be reckless, and our dragon friend here makes a scene to flush everyone out." His expression for the final option revealed that he very much preferred that one.

Gemla grimaced. That was a wicked thing to consider. But... it made the most sense and well, all signs pointed that this thing they were dealing with? That it was out of control and irrattic.

Yzriel growled and swished her tail, agitatedly.

"I am not above smashing down buildings, but not all of my humanity has passed," she hissed at the gnoll. But.. well... if things had to get done...

Gemla simply strolled on up to the door, sword over her shoulder.

"You coming gnoll, or what?" because she wasn't about to start more chaos without fluffy. She gave the dragon a look.
"Stay out here. We'll flush him out."

"Right. That would be the better plan," Thrax admitted with a nervous chuckle. His chaotic nature had overlooked the less destructive option. He'd need to work on that if he was going to continue living around humans.

Axe over his own shoulder, he stepped up beside her and nodded. "Ladies first."

"Oh, you're too kind. What a gentelman," she muttered, giving a flirtatious roll of her eyes before stepping inside and stopping almost immediately because...

Was there a service going on? She flushed a bit as the priest who was talking to haulted only briefly to gesture for her to sit before continuing to talk to his crowd. 

Thrax shrugged and obeyed the gesture as if hulking hyena-men were a perfectly normal sight in a temple to a civilized deity. Weapon stowed, obviously, though he didn't much like not being ready to fight. He didn't really fit in the seats either, looking like an adult sitting in a child's chair.

"Are all human rituals this dull? We might actually be doing them a favor by making a scene," he whispered, waiting for the best chance to act without unduly angering a god.

Gemla elbowed him- hard. Her elbows were evidently effective weapons. She shot him a look.

"Just keep your mouth shut and your sniffer open, Thrax," she hissed under her breath. She tried to appear and remain reverent, but she too stuck out like a sore thumb- but she supposed not as much as he. She was at least.. more humanish. Thrax?
He was just an oversized standing dog!

Thrax knew better than to argue with the dreaded elbow. Covertly sniffing the air, he quietly began ruling out the nearby worshippers. Eventually, he almost imperceptibly perked up.

"Well, hello..." he whispered. "Not sure exactly where, but he's very close."

"Do you think he's in the pews with us?" Gemla asked under a breath. Her own eyes searched the place but she couldn't for the life of her see anything out of the ordinary.

"Maybe he's not in this room?"

Thrax sniffed the air again. "It'd be easier if I could use Stormsong but, yeah, I think he's..." There was a faint, musty quality to the air. "The crypt below was opened recently. I'd bet he's there."

Gemla turned to Thrax, eyeing him, then nodded.
"It looks like the door over there might lead to the crypt.  Or up to the bell tower. Its hard to tell but I'm not sure the other door; the one behind the priest, would lead to a crypt." She Whispered, eyes alert and searching.

"About time for me to sow some chaos?" He couldn't help but smirk. It wasn't as if they could use stealth in their current situation, and he probably never could. Even if he weren't a towering gnoll, he just wasn't the subtle type.

"Or, yanno, just a distraction."

Gemla frowned, hunching down a little with embarrassment.

"If anything, I ought to be the one to distract while you go sniffing around inside the basement.. unless..."
Maybe they should have used the dragon? No... they didn't need to alert whoever was here they were coming for them.

But then a thought occurred to her...
"We.. could just go over there. The priest is in the middle of his sermon... I doubt he'd stop to chastise us if we're walking along the back wall towards the other door. Or.." she went thoughtful again. "We could see if there's a window outside and slip in that way on that side of the building." Avoiding disruptions altogether.

"We can look, but it'd have to be a big window. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm far from slight." He thought for a moment. "Yeah, it's worth a try. Let's go."

Outside, they went around the side to find a window. Luckily, the one they found seemed to be big enough for him, if barely.

"Maybe if I take a deep breath..." he said uncertainly.

Gemla frowned.
"I could go in first, and check it out... or stay out here incase your fat ass gets stuck," she added, witha  smirk, wondering how the gnolll would respond to her joke.

"I think you mean my large but muscular ass; thank you very much," Thrax responded with mock indignation.

He frowned at the window. Gnolls didn't try for stealth for a reason. "Still, I should go first in case I need a push."

She did her best to stifle a laugh- but still she snorted behind a hand that covered her race. She shook her head. 

"Well hurry up, fluff butt before the dragon changes her mind and eats us."

Thrax debated the idea for a long moment before holding out Stormsong. "Hold this. I don't think I can fit through with it. Just... be careful with it; it's important to me."

When she did take it, he was reluctant to let go but quickly got over it. In her hands, well, it didn't take a mage to feel the tremendous untapped power in it. Handing it over, even temporarily, showed that he truly trusted her.

Gemla was surprised when he handed over Stormsong. And found herself gaping as she held it in her hands, not fully baring the weight until his reluctant grip slipped away.

And she could feel the power inside of it.

She closed her lips and gave a short nod.

"It's not like it'll be out of your hands for long. Now hurry up. Before someone sees."

The big guy nodded. He quietly pushed open the window and climbed inside. His legs kicked at the air a bit before he managed to squeeze his large frame through to the other side. "Oof!" he grunted as he unceremoniously hit the floor, butt up in the air. "Gonna feel that in the morning."

Once on his feet, he reached out of the window. Whether this was for her or the axe was anyone's guess, although he wasn't much of a gentleman, which made the latter more likely.

Gemla wouldn't have expected him to ask for her hand, first. The weapon she held..
She wanted to get it out of her hands as soon as possible. So she placed it into his hand, and then began to climb up in through the window herself.

Thrax was visibly relieved to have the weapon back in his possession, going so far as to whisper an apology to the magical object. With that done, he returned it to his back as he took in the room they had entered. 

It looked to him like any other civilized temple, not that he had been in many. The only clue that they were on the right track was the electric tingle in his nose. Their quarry had been through here.

"Lessee... that way is the main chamber, so..." His pointing finger swept the room to the only other doors—two, almost side by side. "One of those must open to stairs down."

Gemla dusted herself off once she had crawled up and through the window. She followed his gaze to the pair of doors and considered their options, then she opened the one and the heavy door gave way.. revealing a set of stone, spiraling steps that faded into the darkness of a musty smelling basement- that.. from the darkness of the shadows, appeared to go down pretty deep.

She peered over at the gnoll.

"Grab that torch over there." They were going to need some light if their target was down those steps.

Thrax took up the torch and joined her at the mouth of the stairwell. Peering into the dark, he was grateful that his vision in low-light conditions was superior to any human. However, the darkness was going to be the least of their worries.

"I guess the big guy gets to go first, eh?" He sighed dramatically but insincerely. "Fiiine."

He strode down the stairs. Down, down into the dark, where the dead sleep in their god's embrace. Storm magic can't wake them, at least.

Right?

Gemla snorted.
"You're the one with the nose," She said, pointedly.
She supposed She could have gone first, but since he would have a better grasp at their direction, it made sense he ought to go first.

So she followed him down along the curling stone staircase and into the chilly dark. The torch afforded some light, and she pondered if it was wise to take it-lest it give them away.

But she said nothing, and just quietly followed behind Thrax until they finally made it to the bottom, then she moved to stand at his side.

"I figured it'd be more cramped in here."

The chamber at the bottom opened up into a wide corridor that had clearly been carved from a preexisting cave tunnel. Unlit torches lined the walls, leaving Thrax to wonder just how the tainted mage could see in the inky blackness if, as he had assumed, the man had ever been human.

He sniffed. "The torches were recently extinguished. He's confident he doesn't need them."

At that, Gemla placed a hand on his shoulder to halt him.

"Should we not do the same?" she asked carefully, in a low voice. "My vision isn't great in the dark... but.." she was afraid the light would give them away. For now, the section they were inside, showed nothing - at least nothing as far reaching as the warm torch light touched.

"I only brought it because you said to," he whispered, slightly puzzled. "I don't much need it."

He shrugged and put it out. They could always light it again, and Stormsong could provide some light if necessary.

"Stay close. I'll see for the both of us."

He could actually see further without the torchlight preventing his eyes from adjusting. He moved down the tunnel slowly, reaching the crypt itself without incident. But as he crossed the threshold, the tingle in his nose almost made him sneeze. Their target was very close.

"Yeah.. well, I didn't consider the consequences. Besides, I can't help it I'm not full orc," she huffed.  But she nodded when he said he'd simply lead the way.
"Just stay alert. I can only do so much with limited eye sight in the dark."

But at the same moment he sensed something, she sensed something was off.. and paused, a hand on his shoulder.

Thrax gave a soft, quiet grunt of assent that he, too, sensed it. He silently readied Stormsong as if stalking prey on the Serha. But he wasn't holding it like an axe. Suddenly, he strummed a chord, sending forth a bolt of lightning that struck some kind of magic shield. A magic shield cast by a menacing robed figure.

"Found you!" the gnoll bard growled through a dangerous grin.

Gemla jerked her hand back, almost jumping clean from her skin as the musical note struck out at the thrum of magics before them. 

She didn't know what to think, suddenly confronted with something even a dragon seemed wary...

Yet, as it's body spun and its wild eyes stared upon them- this creature..no, person? Cowered back, as if confused. 

Thrax hesitated. This was the terror that the dragon was so eager to protect the world from? Sure, he reeked of corrupted magic, but he didn't appear to understand what was happening around him. The bard had imagined some vile fiend, not this.

"Easy, easy," he said, lowering his instrument. "This doesn't have to be a fight. We just want to stop the damage from spreading."

Gemla's hand shot out as she grabbed onto his arm, wardingly.  

The man continued to cower, trembling, shaking - with snot and tears running down his face. 

"Thrax.." she hissed under her breath. "There was a reason the dragon was hostile. We shouldn't just approach just because it's not what we expected. "

"Of course not," the bard whispered sharply. "I'm not some naïve idiot. I just think we should hear him out. I, for one, want to know what he thought he was doing with that kid. Don't you?"

To the corrupted mage, he said, "Why don't you tell us your side of the story? Your jailer was light on the details. We only know what we've seen, which is a kid at death's door because of you. What were you trying to accomplish?"

Gemla frowned. She understood...but...

"Are you sure it's wise? I mean...  isn't this why the dragon ought to handle it? She was his ward..." 

So to speak. 

Thrax took a slow breath. She had a point. He had to trust the Storm Guardian.

"Fair. And he's less likely to try anything in her presence."

Gemla's frown deepened. 
"If it were so simple.. she wouldn't be worried," she reminded, whispering. 

Her eyes never left the cowering man before them who finally sputtered out. 

"Back away, monsters! Back away!"

Gemla blinked.

Oh.. right.  Had she really forgotten she was a half orc and he.. a gnoll? She turned to look at Thrax. 

"Got any bright ideas?"

Being called a monster always hurt, but something about this particular instance softened the pain. This corrupted mage who experimented on a child had no right to call anyone a monster. He had almost forgotten that.

"Just this once, I feel like showing someone exactly what they want to see. How about you? Because this guy has no room to talk."

Gemla frowned.
"Would that be wise?" Her frowned deepened.  If a dragon worried about this man...

She hadn't kept her eyes off of the cowering man, so when she felt the strange tickling sensation of static....

Her eyes widened.

"Is that you, Thrax, or him?"

"It's not me." Thrax frowned, tensing for a fight. The situation suddenly felt much more dangerous.

He allowed pure, clean storm magic to radiate from Stormsong. It was his hope that such a potent source of uncorrupted magic would be enough to disrupt whatever spell was being worked by the seemingly confused mage. It didn't matter if it was an act, the magical energy pouring off of him was a threat.