RP:Trajek's Redemption. Frostmaw Style

From HollowWiki

Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc


Summary: Balgruuf stages a public execution of Josleen, but is betrayed in the 11th hour by Trajek who believes Josleen’s death is immoral because she is not a warrior. Just as Trajek betrays Balgruuf, Hildegarde and Kovl rescue Josleen. Josleen and Kovl’s auditory and visual illusions lead the giants to believe their fort is under siege, but lol, Jovl just trollin’.

Balgruuf NPC’d by the irreplaceable Orikahn.

Frozen Pathway, just outside Frostmaw’s walls=

Kovl 's bundled form arrives to the place where Hildegarde designated they meet. The pixie is a bit delayed as he searches for his friend but finally discovers Hildegarde hidden behind a bank of snow close by him. His expression, which was frantic and guilt-filled when the Steward saw him last, now hold hints of hope and joy. Josleen has treated him with love and gratitude during his visit to her in the jail which means there is still hope for their friendship after he druggedly left her for dead in a heavily guarded rebel fort. And how does he know she is sincere? Like a good friend, the pixie has snooped through the unsealed letters Josleen wrote in the fort's prison to be delivered directly to Hildegarde and a fellow named Kelovath. To be sure Josleen wasn't warning Hildegarde he was a risk, he read the parchment to be delivered to Hildegarde. No such statements were found. Kelovath was nowhere to be found in the ally camp, so the pixie read the letter to confirm it isn't a urgent notice. It wasn't. He pocketed it to be given back to Josleen. The third, to be given to Hildegarde, was addressed to her parents. Because he read the other two, curiosity took the best of the pixie, and he realized the letter was a will in the case of her death. In the will, she requested Kovl be helped in the Mage's Guild by her father. Now, Kovl is certain Josleen still trusts him after his hazy actions. Upon finding Hildegarde, Kovl approaches the Steward. "She's alive!" He shouts in jubilation. "And she gave me these." Two unsealed folded parchments appear from the satchel at his side. "One is to be given to her parents and one is addressed to you." As the two begin discussing their plans, the pixie shares all that he has noticed about the locations of the sentries in the fort and some of the times he noticed them patrolling.


Hildegarde was dressed for battle, obviously expecting the worst when trying to rescue Josleen. This was probably a suicide mission. But wasn’t Josleen worth that? Of course she was, she was worth that and more! As Kovl fluttered towards Hildegarde’s chosen hiding spot and begins to jubilantly shout, the knight makes a facial expression of surprise and annoyance. Was he really shouting when they were about to embark on a dangerous infiltration mission? The Silver reached out to cup her hands around him and draw him closer to her, “Shhh!” she shushed him, not wanting him to give away their location or to at least drop to a whisper. Shouting wasn’t good right now. “We can’t afford to get caught before we get close to Josleen,” she whispered. “No shouting. Preferably, no talking either, but we’ll keep to a whisper. No shouting, no screaming,” she cautioned him, her voice stern but forgiving. She knew Kovl well enough to forgive him of these indiscretions. The knight accepts the letters, though, immediately opening the one addressed to her and reading it with greedy interest. Oh, Jos. She knew how to tug at Hildegarde’s heartstrings. “Okay,” she said after Kovl had shared the details he had collected from Frostmaw. “Josleen is held at the prisoner cages, right?” she asked to confirm, mentally visualising the location as being south-west of the fort. “The gallows are nearby, the execution drop off. I don’t think Balgruuf will hesitate to use it,” she said, “especially with Balder being gone.” The knight grunted. “We can’t go through the gate. It’s too risky. But…” the Silver frowned slightly. “Kovl, what’s the biggest thing you can disguise? Could you… Could you make a dragon invisible for about five minutes?”


Kovl takes a breath as Hildegarde scolds him, and his neck immediately swivels to scan his surroundings. Seeing no one yet, the pixie nods at the dragon, reassured by his own senses that no one has heard his cry. Kovl scratches his head as Hildegarde asks her question. He has never considered the limits of his pixie dust's potential to keep a very large being from sight for a long enough time. "Hildegarde, I've never tried to keep a full sized dragon invisible with pixie dust. I don't know if it will work or how long it will work. What is your plan? I may be able to help you in other ways. My arcane abilities are much stronger than my natural magic abilities." The pixie forgets that he may be speaking with someone who knows nothing about the distinction between arcane and natural magic. The Mage's Guild instructs him in the arcane. He only calls upon his natural magic when using pixie dust or pixie leading strangers or enemies. "I can perhaps make a distraction, for example."


Hildegarde had no true idea of how magic worked. She was a fighter, her world was purely physical. What experience she had with magic was only watching others weave it and use it. “Okay. You know magic better than I do,” she said, knowing that was certainly obvious, “I suspect Balgruuf is going to try to kill Josleen. Maybe horribly. Maybe send her body to me or leave it by the gates to antagonise me,” she theorised glumly. The Silver grunted thoughtfully. “A distraction might work, but it could be dangerous to you. I feel it is less so because you are so little and can fly away so quickly. All you need to do, my friend, is distract them so I may… well, barrel in there and rescue our dear friend. If you can keep up a distraction it might be useful, but I shall not strain your limits. But we should go soon.”


Kovl looks to Hildegarde as she considers Kovl's suggestion. As she mentions the possibility of Josleen being killed to antagonize the Steward, a flash of guilt crosses his mind and a fit of nausea threatens to flip his stomach. The pixie takes another deep breath against the cold that stings his skin. "I won't be caught. I have ways of escaping and I'm too slippery for them." The pixie's confidence rises over the guilt. "And my distraction will be an illusion. If all else fails, I can vanish from their sight. It was a little too easy to enter the fort. When you take it over, I recommend building defenses against someone like me." The pixie winks. "I will do what I can to keep eyes off of you until it's too late."


Hildegarde grinned at Kovl’s suggestion for defending the fort, “I can’t just employ you to keep my fort safe from the likes of you?” she asked him in that playful tone. As he promises to do his best in this rescue attempt, the knight swiftly leans forward and presses a swift peck to the top of Kovl’s tiny head. “Let’s face destiny, my friend. Let us rescue our dearest Josleen,” she said, “I’ll take a run and jump from the cliff edge,” she said softly, “it’ll be quick so any watch on the gate do not notice us. Then… Then we fly to Josleen. Be ready for anything,” she warned him. “Ready?” Waiting for a moment or two, the knight would then suddenly dart out from the snowbank; sprinting for a gap in the mountainous rock so she might slip off the edge and fall only to take her truest shape and soar amongst the clouds.

Meanwhile at the Prisoner Cages in Frostmaw

Trajek the day had finally arrived, and it could not have come soon enough. From tavern to fort, from home to home, from the wounded to the well to the dying was one word: execution. Frostmaw's losses had been massive, and though the city's foundation was stone, the city's morale was veined with hairline cracks. But today was the city's catharsis. But today was the city's vengeance. Giants wandered from their posts and left their sick beds, all passing the prisoners' cages to leer at, to mock, to spit both profanity and phlegm at the caged Josleen. Trajek was one of the slim mass that milled its way to the vindictive play, and his mood was far less jubilant. "I am afraid I bring you death instead of stew today," He said, outlining his forthcoming role. "Come on. This will be quick." His bared sword tapped against the iron cage door as though he were calling an animal, a sacrifice, more than he was a person. "But I must ask you one thing. Are you truly a bard? Are you truly a healer?"


The chorus of anticipation has been music to Balgruuf's ears. "Execute the min~strel," he sings beneath his breath, marching steadily along sans entourage, "while the steward watch~es." It's a simple, tuneless ditty, and one that he's quick to drop the moment he slips into the prison. "Make way, now," the coup leader clears his throat, switching to his authoritative voice, "this is a state execution, not some mob rally." The cheers and jeers subside,and the crowd parts. Arriving at Josleen's cage, Balgruuf spots Trajek and, grinning, the giant steps up beside the paladin. "Isn't that right, Trajek?" The grin falls when his eyes land on Josleen's face, and he spits a phlegmy wad of his own into the soiled straw at her feet. The crowd erupts. Amid the renewed surge of mocking cries and profane jeering, Balgruuf's eyes never leave little Josleen, never for a minute, as though he seeks to use her as a vessel into which he can empty all his blame, grief, and loathing.


Josleen felt the hushed excitement in the air. The mob had transmuted an act of evil into inevitable spectacle at best, justice at worst (and most self-deluded). Had Josleen ever been on the other side of this, leering up at a stockade or noose? Yes, but she was watching murderers hang. She is not a murderer. Does that make her participation as spectator in yestertimes any different from these giants today? At dawn, she still held out hope that Hildegarde would deliver her from this fate. Kovl said she was coming. And Kelovath, surely he’ll come too. Maybe Lisbeth, Linn, the other heroes? Someone. But her certainty in 11th hour rescue cracks as the giants file past her cage to taunt and spit at her. She pulls the soiled furs tighter around her frame to shield herself from the spit, and other bodily byproduct. She doesn’t look up when Trajek rattles the cage or quips about stew out of fear that if she looks up she’ll be met with spit in the face. She remembers doing that as a child in the pond in Xalious Park with the other village girls. Swimming into the deep end despite the admonishments of their parents. Tanned, youthful, all energy, they’d splash each other, dive to avoid the splash, resurface to a fan of earth-tasting water. As she revisits the idyllic moments of her life, hope of rescue wanes. Her life plays like theatrical production, her mind the only stage, memories the only cast. Trajek asks his questions and she finally looks up, face pink and wet with tears. There’s no warrior’s defiance there; she isn’t one. She can’t die like one even if she wanted to. How noble to die like a soldier, how plain to die sniveling, but so it ends. She nods twice at his questions, not once guessing the answer would matter. Maybe he asks to set the stage for her execution, a brief explanation of who she is before her life line snaps, the crowd goes wild. Balgruuf spits at her feet and she’s too numb with fear (or perhaps still too wise) to even react.


Trajek kept his eyes on the broken girl even as Balgruuf, his friend and king as far as either could be true, steps up to his side and hocks. He needed to see her shake her head. He needed her to disconfirm what every giant, shaman, and slave had told him. He needed her to be a soldier ready to die a noble death for her cause. But when she looked up at him and he saw a fearful girl, when she nodded twice to affirm what had lodged in his gut, he let out a deep, troubled sigh. His grip on his sword hilt became as loose as the one he had on the situation. "Come on, coward. A painful death awaits you." The door to the cage was flung open, and the older man walked to the cowering figure. "Up...Up!" His free hand reached down to grab her, and his head was bent by the heaviness of his whisper. "Sing a song of strength." Up she would go whether she wanted to or not. She would walk even if she did not want to walk, whether she was prodded by a sword or pulled by the aged paladin. Their destination was her final one: the gallows.


Balgruuf dismisses the exchange, trusting Trajek to know the proper handling of captives and maintain correct custom when certain nuances might slip the merchant's mind. It's all the same, Balgruuf's thoughts remind him, his imagination propelled forward by eagerness and anticipation, zooming in on his moment of vengeance. "Make way," he calls again, putting out an arm and stepping back, allowing Trajek room to work the cage door. Though the crowd's enthusiasm is appreciated, Balgruuf is silently covetous. If anyone is to abuse the captive, it should be him. After all, fate had delivered the woman into *his* hands, had it not? "No one is to harm her," his tone lowers to a growl, "yet."


Josleen stops crying out of sheer surprise when Trajek whispers to her. Uttered in any other tone the words could be yet another taunt, ‘make peace with your maker’ style, but his gaze and diction cannot be mistaken: he intends to free her. And on the sly, by the look of it. He asks for strength. How she regrets not heeding her father’s insistence that she train magically. Strength she cannot give (aside from the squishy, non-magical morale-boosting traits of song). Instead she sings a mystical-sounding chant, throws in the old elven word for ‘strength’ and ‘god’ to make it sound legit, but it isn’t. The ‘spell’ is improvised on the spot, and Trajek’s daily bowel movement is more potent than this. Still, she commits to the farce in order to not yet tip her hand with Trajek who may change his mind when he realizes the cost-benefit ratio skews towards suicidal. On the gallows she kneels where indicated. Her song does not cease, but is suddenly over-powered by the explosive crack, all noise, of stone on stone. Those gathered will hear at the eastern gates the twang and swish of catapults launching boulders, the roar of an army, the clanking of armor, swords, and shields. By all auditory accounts, Hildegarde’s forces are here. Yep, there it is, her war roar in the distance, expertly faked by the sneaky bard. It won’t fool the Frostmawian army for long, but may buy Trajek and Josleen enough time to escape.


Trajek was counting the giants, or soon to be enemies, though his treachery was not shown on his stone face. He was waiting for what he had whispered to Josleen, for the greatest chance at them escaping with both their heads intact. And when she finally began to sing, he closed his eyes in relief. He cracked his head from side to side and rolled his shoulders, all while the dead woman kneeled. He waited for the song's magic to take kick in. He raised his sword to Balgruuf in salute; he waited. He saluted the crowd with the raised sword; when will this kick in? The old man looked at the giants at the back of the gallows and judged, with what strength he was expecting to come, how fast he would have to move. Josleen sang, and nothing happened. "Gods..." The paladin-executioner cursed as he raised his sword high in the killing arc. "She is a healer. She is not a soldier. There is no honor in killing a non-combative..." That was his warning, and that was his warrant of treachery spoken to Balgruuf. As the peals of battle rang out, and no doubt all attention was turned to the east, Trajek swiveled where he stood and brought the blade down in a cleaving strike upon an unsuspecting giant-guard's back. "Run!"

Balgruuf follows them to the gallows with the jeering throng close on their heels. Following the other two up, he waits with bated breath, watching, listening. He gasps. "Wait!" The sound of battle has his heart racing, and the roar elates him. "Not until she can see!" His head whips about, trying to catch sight of the dragon, "not until that steward can, what?" Like a plane stalled, he blinks, wobbling at what had in the very same second been his highest high, only to plummet right back to his lowest low. Certain his ears have been deceived (in fairness they have, but ol' Balgruff's off the mark) he blinks in disbelief as Trajek slices into one of the guards. "No. No! Stop this at once. Seize them. Trajek. Trajek!" Balgruuf hurries to the edge of the platform and fumbles, swiping to try and grasp at the bard, but the surge of the crowd stops him. His eyes widen to bulging. "Traitor!"


Kovl latches onto Hildegarde as she flies at incredible speed toward the fort where their friend is imprisoned. -We're coming, Josleen.- The pixie strategizes the best possible distractions to aid in Hildegarde's rescue attempt. Idea after idea crosses his mind: some of them fun, some of them dark, some of them full of thought. A brilliant thought comes to the pixie's mind, but it will take a lot of concentration to achieve successfully. This illusion will be so complex that Kovl is sure to make mistakes in details and forget some other moving parts that it will not convince the giants for long. But the chaos it should achieve will hopefully buy enough time for Hildegarde. The pixie will be immobilized, highly distracted, and his magical reservoirs will be occupied fully. Kovl cannot afford to expend his magic on activating his invisibility dust. There'd be no time to recover his valuable mana pools to do this successfully. He only hopes the giants will not find him and retaliate while he is not looking. The illusionist's ears pick up a curious very faint sound... a dragon's cry? Kovl doesn't spot anything from his high vantage on Hildegarde's back. But he does spot the gallows occupied with giants and one tiny form which must be Josleen. Did they come at the wrong time? Or the perfect right time? The pixie jumps from Hildegarde's back before she reaches the gallows, taking his stop at the fort which is located less than a mile from their destination and definitely in view of those gathered. He zips quickly to a position high above the fort with enough vantage to see the immense illusion he casts now. An incantation... a visualization... his illusion appears. Glowing specks from the east grow from the distance toward the fort. As they near, they grow larger and larger, coming closer and closer, and at impossible speeds. Flaming boulders light the eastern sky, presumably from catapults located behind a snowbank. The first makes impact with the eastern wall, and though no damage to the integrity of the building is actually made, Kovl is sure to make it seem like the wall is crumbling. And yes, coupled with this fiery sight, a mighty crash, loud and booming is easily heard from the gallows. As attention is drawn toward the sky, it becomes evident (to those who are fooled) that they are under attack from their eastern flank. Two more boulders fly into the side of the fort as Kovl makes them explode in his mind, suggesting to those watching that their fort wall is collapsing before their eyes and ears. -Please let this work...- Kovl hangs in the sky, still and concentrated, putting all focus on not messing this up. Is his work at the fort loud enough and big enough to see from the gallows? Kovl can only hope that they don't kill Josleen first before rushing to their base.


Hildegarde was swiftly swooping into the area just as the chaos was all kicking off. Giants running around, Trajek’s blade seemingly intending to strike Josleen only for its trajectory to be lost in the swathe of giants in their panic. The dragon is furious. She is fury itself wrapped in silver scales and talons, teeth like swords ready to snap at whomsoever might get in her way. Indeed, one such giant does unfortunately get in her way: her powerful claws grasping the giant as her mighty maw snaps at the joint between neck and shoulder as she twists mid-flight and tosses the body aside to perhaps land amongst the other giants before her body swiftly reverts to her humanoid form. In this form, she carries her halberd and sword, like the dragon shape had been a magical illusion. Such was the secrets of saurian kind, this wondrous transformation. The Silver cannot see Josleen at the stage now. For all she knows, her friend could be dead already. And with that horrid thought in mind, she is a storm unto herself as she hurriedly strides towards the gallows stage; twisting her body into a graceful pirouette to swing the halberd as she dropped to her knee, lopping the leg of a giant clean off just below the knee without a word or sound. Such was her fury, it could not be made clear with any noise or sound. Her silence is dangerous. The stage is ever closer and she can feel her iron heart beat steadily. It doesn’t thunder, it doesn’t race any more. It’s steady and keeps to one particular beat, but she can feel the nervousness in herself. She can feel the panic rising at the thought of losing Josleen and forces herself into a jog-turn-sprint towards the stage, leaping onto it with only a small grunt of effort. Trajek’s body is in the way of Josleen’s and given his size and build, her missing eye, she cannot see beyond him to see if Josleen is alive. There’s the smell of blood in the air. Maybe it’s Josleen’s. The Silver stares at Trajek for a long moment. He was a murderer. He had blood on his hands and he didn’t deserve her mercy or compassion. She draws her short-sword and twirls it in her hand, dipping her body to the left in a feint as her halberd’s spear-point jerked to the right to pierce through Trajek’s shoulder. The woman twisted the spear point and dragged her elbow back along with the halberd and Trajek, swinging the short-sword down with a cry of effort to slice his arm clean off from his body. “For justice,” she hissed in the Elvish tongue, knowing that she must end Trajek to send the ghostly elves to their final resting place and to ‘avenge’ Josleen. Keeping hold of the halberd and Trajek, the Silver groans with effort as she angles the halberd upward to dangle Trajek above her slightly; finally swishing the short-sword over his abdomen so his – just like the elves he had murdered – intestines would dangle from his belly. That foul smell was a familiar one. The Silver swung the body down onto the stage and dropped her short-sword, placing her boot firmly on the stump of where Trajek’s arm once was before reaching down and letting the claw-tipped points of her gauntlet touch his throat. “There’ll be no more deception and mistruth from you, serpent,” she hissed, before digging deep into his throat to tear out his voice box and vocal chords.


Josleen runs! But she doesn’t get very far as she dodges right, sees Balgruuf coming at her there, then left, and he changes trajectory too. She’s just descending the gallow’s stairs when the crowd looks to the fort, and she follows their slack-jawed attention.She’s almost fooled into believing that the fort really is under attack, but she knows the noises were faked. Kovl? Must be. The thought brings her hope. She needs to get where her rescuers can easily find her--and not get trampled or killed in the process. But she is small, and a giant hand knocks her across the face and sends her sprawling back onto the floor behind Trajek just as Hildegarde approaches. The bard lifts her groggy head in time to see Hildegarde raise the slain human, his guts dangling like victory streamers. Her heart races, throat constricts as she gasps Hildegarde’s name. She scrambles onto her feet and lowers herself off the ground, but hesitates just before approaching the knight as a battle may still rage here soon and the dragon is enraged. She doesn’t look away from the the silver, however, as there is no need to look for assailant at her flank. Who would dare?

Trajek had a goal in mind, a mission of sorts, and he worked as hard as he could to see it happen. There were giants between Josleen and the exit, as well as the very upset Balgruuf who named the old man for what he was eternally damned to be. The sounds of battle, the falling of the Fort in such a fiery fashion, were to the man's back, and he did not see the arrival of the dragonness nor the carnage left in her wake. He took a step towards Balgruuf to whisper apologies with his blade, but he was stopped. The pain was unregistered, shock and adrenaline had already set in, but he heard over the howls and roars the thud of a limb against wood planks. His end was swift and fair, far faster and fairer than he had ever expected. His punishment was just---his life left him with the gurgling destruction of his throat.


Balgruuf can only watch on as his plans are sabotaged. With Hildegarde there, with Josleen in full view, Trajek need only to have adhered to plan, to follow orders. It was perfect. It was exactly as Balgruuf had hoped, as Balgruuf had planned, and now... now... With his world apparently crumbling around him, the merchant steps back. There are many in the crowd who don't wait for the call to retreat, and Balgruuf seeks refuge in their numbers, falling in with them and rushing to whatever recoup awaits. Discretion, they say, is the better part of valor, or so Balgruuf reminds himself, and he easily slips into the growing bunch footsoldiers that run to assist the Fort. At the gallows, there are mixed reactions, and while several giants dare, in foolish bravery, to converge and charge Hildegarde with battle cries and weapons drawn, there are many more that begin slowly dropping to one knee, their astonished eyes fixed on the Silver.


Kovl hears the cries of the rebel frost giants below him, but they don't register to his mind. He knows that if he breaks concentration for just one moment, Josleen may die, and that is not an option. More flaming boulders land upon the fort as sentries take their places to defend against these attacks. Giants scatter as another impacts their location, and as illusionary as these boulders are, the mind is a powerful muscle. And if their minds perceive they are injured, their bodies respond accordingly. Kovl hopes that in all the chaos, a sentry does not spot him and try to snipe him in the sky. Another flaming boulder strikes the fort, and in the making of this portion of the illusion, Kovl forgets his first strike. The wall originally in crumbles is now in one piece... for three full seconds before the pixie fixes his mistake. Surely those who have seen will begin scanning the skies. -Please... I need to last a little longer. I can't be crumbling now.- Out of the corner of the his eye, Kovl spots a horde of troops coming toward from the south west where the gallows are. They are coming to defend as Kovl displays his power.


Hildegarde sheathes her short-sword and takes hold of her halberd, only to transform once again into her truest of shapes. A large, proud Silver dragon. Without further ado, the Silver dragon’s large scaly clawed hand envelopes Josleen and takes hold of her carefully; pulling that clawed hand towards her scaly breast to keep her safe. The Silver turned to look at the charging giants and those who would bend the knee to her. It has been a victory in many different ways. The dragon cranes her long neck towards the oncoming giants and lets loose a beastly roar (think T-Rex from Jurassic Park) that covers the approaching giants with frost and ice. “Defend your rightful Queen!” she bids the other giants, “I await you outside these gates. Join me or wait for me to retake our home,” she could not leave without saying anything, though she yearned to just fly away. With the giants given reassurance, the knight knows she cannot push her time here any further. To linger was to invite death. With a shove, the dragon propelled herself skyward; leathery wings beating hard to carry her further into the sky. Kovl. She had to get Kovl. Rather than make a risk of grabbing him and hurting his tiny form in her large hand that might have a hard time not crushing his tiny body, the dragon only flies past him: her large body covering his as she passes by him at decreased speed so he might grab on or fly alongside her to effectively retreat from Frostmaw.


Josleen relaxes in Hildegarde’s enormous claw. Isn’t the first time she’s hitched a dragon ride, and hopefully won’t be the last. She hugs Hildegarde’s breast and finally relaxes. No more grim memories of the life she’ll leave behind. She can look to the future again. “Thank you,” she whispers. She sniffles loudly, weeping briefly and quietly due to the overwhelming relief and happiness of having survived, even if just barely. She looks at Trajek’s corpse below and is surprised she doesn’t feel at peace with his death, though she isn’t quite sure how she should feel. He was her jailor, after all. Time for introspection later. As they fly past Kovl, she extends a hand for the pixie to grab hold. She says nothing for now, as there will be plenty to say once they land back at camp. She won’t be leaving Hildegarde or Kovl’s side anytime soon. She watches the city turn from chaos to confusion as the illusions, audio and visual, dissipate.


Kovl's concentration breaks when he hears Hildegarde roar to the giants in the wake of her fury. His eyes snap toward the gallows. A flaming boulder vanishes middair as it is about to hit another sentry. The walls of the fortress are immediately repaired, and the only sounds eminating from below are the cries of confusion and pain below him. "Witchcraft!" A shout penetrates the air from below, and the pixie immediately realizes he has been spotted. An arrow flies through the air as the one who spotted him releases her bow's string. It misses him by three feet to the right. Upon looking down, the illusionist spots more sentries load their bows. The pixie is lucky he is so small. Hildegarde flies by just in time, and Kovl grabs at Josleen's hand as he's whisked away to safety. A storm of arrows glide through the air toward the trio as a last lick of desperation.


Hildegarde’s thick hide is able to resist an average arrow and some do fall against her hide only to patter away harmlessly to the ground. But one or two pierce her thick hide and scales, these being the arrows Satoshi had implemented to protect Frostmaw’s airspace from invading dragons and creatures. The dragon made that low groaning noise of a wounded animal, but did not deter from her course. She retreated with Kovl and Josleen in tow; returning to the camp.