RP:Filling in the crack(en)

Part of the A Line Drawn in the Sand Arc

A Beach in Cenril

Sykule never imagined he'd miss the sun so much after spending a dozen days in the underdark. It was good to finally be out of the drow city, and safe from it's denizens. The feathered dragon was flying once again above the shoreline, on a beach near Cenril. He had contacted Mac, his somewhat employer on this mission, and set up a meeting location so that he could tell him everything he had learned so far. Sykule searched for Mac with his sharp eyes while he glided gently above the waves. His wings furled and he dived down once he found the man he was looking for, sitting casually by the beach.

Mac may have seemed casual, the way he leaned on the broken hull of a long-ago washed up fishing boat, lost to deep and vengeful thought until a winged shadow blotted the light momentarily and pulled him from his ruminations. As the feathered dragon made his landing, the kraken paced toward him, a webby hand lifted in greeting, “Tis good to find thee hale,” he said to Sykule, “For I have heard much about the cruelties of the Deep Elves and the dangers of their home.” He’d let Sykule settle comfortably and continue, “What news hast thou for me?” Mac was once more in full human form, the holy aquamarine gem he wore on a thin strand of gold around his neck enabling a half-change to caecilian form and back now, though taking his natural shape was still an impossibility.

The dragon greeted Mac with a nod of his head, then spoke. "I have many news, but I'm afraid none are very pleasant, Mac." Sykule switched to a more comfortable position, laying down and with his right shoulder on the sand. "House D'Artes, also known as the first house, is currently the most powerful, and the leading house of the drow. It rules the city by force, and fear. The House is being led by Gevurah, the High priestess of Vakmatharas, and his worship is used as a tool to enforce their rule. I've been following Gevurah herself, and if anyone would know about the curse, it should be her." (Unfortunately, He cannot confirm to Mcracken if Gevurah was the drow who stabbed him.) The dragon scratched his left forearm, still covered in bandages for the burn he received from the priestess. There was no more pain, but the arm still felt a bit dull. "Either she, or the house, are searching for the Artifacts of the Shade, an ancient order of necromancers. Apparently she suspects some drow have them. But there is something she is doing, alone; There's a cage inside the Dead Caves, in the area guarded by the mind flayers, holding an elf, a female. She has probably been there for long." As he spoke the last sentences, the dragon raised his left claw and conjured the image of an elf, shackled to the wall, wearing her tattered clothes and the strange vine belt. "Gevurah has been collecting her blood. I do not know who she is, or why her blood is so valuable, but Gevurah has been extremely careful not to let anyone know of her existence."

The kraken listened raptly to every word, keeping silence until Sykule had finished his report, his expression growing more grim with every new piece of information revealed. “Thou hast my gratitude, friend, for thy courage in undertaking this perilous endeavour. I assure thee, thou wilt be aptly rewarded for it,” Mac spoke quietly, his voice a bass rumble barely audible over the crash of the waves on the nearby rocks. “Great is the evil perpetuated by this… Gevurah D’Artes. For yet another captive hath she taken, one whom was in kindness aiding my cause.. “ The irony of this was nothing he’d talk about right now, but it did cross Mcracken’s mind, briefly. “One whom doth owe my people a vast debt. Mayhap thou hast heard her name? The Lady Emilia… a maiden of ice.”

Sykule closed his eyes and shook his head. "I am not familiar with the name Emilia, unfortunately. I am but a hatchling and a newcomer to this land. And if she's being held captive, I'm afraid she's in grave danger. Gevurah won't let her live for long unless she has a use for her. If you have a plan, I'm here to help." The dragon felt a bit tense, as he could have been in her place had he failed his mission. He gazed at the man before him with his big, gray eyes. He noticed the gem on his neck, which he didn't remember from their last encounter. "And about the reward, Mister Mac, I wonder if you would simply allow me to ask you some questions."

Mcracken noted that fleeting moment of tension that rippled through the dragon, and surmised that he’s perhaps underestimated the personal risk to Sykule when he’d sent him on this mission, “Ask of me what you will, but thine just reward in not a negotiable matter,” he said, with a tone that strongly suggested the kraken would hear no arguments on the matter. “But we shall talk of that later.” In the back of his mind, Mac was searching his voluminous memory for the few details of Emilia’s life she’d given him, hoping for a clue on how to find her people… Meanwhile, he stared at Sykule expectantly, “What dost thou wish to know?”

Sykule tilted his saurian head curiously before he began to speak. "I shall accept your gifts with honor, Mac, but there's another reason why I chose to help you. I see that your cause is just and you're true to your word, but I want to know more about you. You're clearly much more than a simple man." Indeed, his interest in the bard and his feud with D'Artes was what inspired his mission to Trist'oth at first. Of course, that was before he found out the atrocities that House D'Artes committed inside and outside the underdark. "You don't need to tell me anything, if you wish so. But now that I know I have allies, I would like to know a bit more about them. Specially you."

Mcracken wasn’t in the habit of telling people what he was, but he didn’t make a secret of it, either, so bluntly said, “I am seaborn. A kraken, spawned in the warm waters of the southern isles,” after a beat, he added, “A very long time ago.” And that was apparently all Sykule was going to get out of him on that topic for the moment, for in the next breath he said, “D’Artes clearly values this captive elf. I intend to rob her of her prize… Canst thou make a map of these caves? Mayhap there is a way to breach them, other than the rout thou didst take.”

Sykule puffed after Mac's answer, which sounded like an unspoken -I knew it!-. The young dragon would not press further on the matter, he knew he'd learn what he could in time. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, then raised his arm once more, this time using his claw to draw a pale, half translucent tridimensional image of the underdark. "Very well, this is the chamber where Trist'oth is located, several feet beneath the ground. And this is the tunnel to the Dead caves." He pointed to a small cyllindrical form that slithered away from the great main chamber. The tunnel then split into various directions, some smaller, some larger. He followed one of those paths with the tip of his claw, until he reached a dead end. "This is the chamber where I found the elf."

Mac blinked slowly at the three-dimensional map.. If Sykule wasn’t entirely aware of how valuable this was to the kraken, Mac would be sure to let him know via a hefty addition to the promised reward… “Canst thou show what lands lie above this place?” The request came quietly but carried a distinct air of electric tension. Odd-hued eyes scanned the illusory image over and over, every detail committed to the seaborn’s prodigious memory. One area in particular was the focus of his next question, a webbed finger jabbed toward it, a tunnel that seemed to lead deeper than most, then outward before it faded into nothingness. (ooc, this would be the super watery part of the caves where the sea critters, kraken, hippocampus, etc live.. but Mac wouldn’t know this yet)… “What is this?”

Sykule gestured with his wrist, forming a simple landscape far above the underground city. "It's too deep, and there's no safe entrance to the city or the caves. The drow made sure of that." His eyes gazed intensely at his projection, trying to remember what the various maps he had studied mentioned about that specific tunnel. Usually, the dead caves were not portrayed in conventional maps, but he managed to get his hands on a few made by a famed band of spies, which showed most of the conventional routes for those conducting shady business. "It's a very old tunnel, some say it was built by smugglers ages ago, others say it's a natural formation. All I remember is that it's useless now, since it leads straight to the..." The dragon stopped, and blinked twice. He then looked at Mac for a second, before conjuring a very familiar sight to Mac, at the end of the tunnel. The bottom of the ocean.

Ding, ding, ding, we got ourselves a winner! Mac didn’t say this, of course, but his expression as he shifted his gaze from map to Sykule may as well have done so. The kraken was actually grinning, ear to ear. “And that is how we’ll breach the caverns.” He’d stare at the conjured image for a short time before glancing back to Sykule, “Mayhap I ought explore its accessibility prior to this mission, for the passage may be blocked, or… “ the silence to follow said what didn’t need to be spoken aloud – that there were a lot of worse things the tunnel could be, than simply ‘blocked’. He looked to Sykule, “This ‘witch’ surely hath enemies beyond number. Dost thou think the elves would care to know one of their own kind is captive?”

Sykule exhaled, and most of his illusion was blown away like sand in the wind, leaving only the tunnel and it's route to the room where the elf was being held. The tunnel was their best shot, although he knew enough of the underdark and it's bizarre creatures to assume that it might not be completely safe. "Indeed, it would be good to inform the elves. They might even provide us with some support, or maybe the identity of the captive. I would gladly search for a trustworthy contact among the elves of Frostmaw, if that is your wish."

Mcracken nodded to this, “Mayhap they will have a champion who will join us..” the kraken grinned again, not so broadly this time. More.. kind of sheepish. “I say ‘us’ as though thou hast already volunteered to brave the venture once again. But thou hast already faced great peril once, and I shalt not blame thee nor doubt thy courage if thy choice be not to venture there again. “

Sykule looked away, to the ocean, as the image of the shackled elf came to his mind. "I cannot simply leave her be after seeing such atrocities. If the rescue fails, the drow priestess won't think twice before feeding her to the spiders." A short snicker came from Sykule's throat. Perhaps to mask his own anxiety. "And If I don't guide us through the caves, who would?"

Mac had somehow had a feeling the plucky little dragon was going to join this reckless and possibly fatal venture as Sykule’s disgust at the elf’s treatment alone had been more than apparent. But he gave the feathered saurian a nod of approval, “Thou art truly dauntless, for knowing the peril ahead and facing it, regardless. So it is, we each have our missions before us. Thine, to contact the elves, mine to scout the tunnel. Shall we then meet here, say, three days hence? And further discuss our plan, armed with greater knowledge.”