Part 1
Dah'mir pointed from the center of the riverboat, telling the rower to pull into the shallows. Vennet's man did as he was told, and they gave the boat just enough speed for it to glide to a stop on the shore. Dah'mir whistled, and the herons sat on either side of him in the boat took to the sky and joined their brethren. None came out to meet them, the marshes near the Bonetree Mound were dead and calm. "Where's the Bonetree clan?" Vennet asked, "I'd have thought they'd come to investigate a boat tying up in their territory."
"The herons have seen them, captain, and they have seen the herons. They know I have returned." Dah'mir replied.
Vennet grit his teeth in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves. The journey upriver went quickly, sped along by his dragonmark, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the green eyed man was hiding something from him. They were close to the mound now, and his reward. Dah'mir had already given him two exquisite dragonshards, what other treasures might the priest of the Dragon Below have for him?
There was a smell like old ashes on the air, and as the small group walked up to the mound, it became apparent that the bonetree village had been put to the torch. There were bodies too, amongst the wreckage of the village, but they didn't have any sign of injury on the bodies. All of them were burnt, but no cuts, no broken bones.
Dah'mir stared at the corpses, a look of curiosity on his face rather than shock or horror. Vennet couldn't hide his own horror, however. "What happened here?" he asked, but Dah'mir just shook his head. "Continue on." They passed through the camp, making very little noise on the soft blanket of ash that covers the ground. Closer to the mound lay the battlefield that Vennet expected to find, people that had died of their wounds rather than a mysterious fire. Still, the ground here was charred too, as if someone had sprinkled oil over the remains. Tentatively approaching, yet keeping their distance, was a small group of Bonetree hunters.
Dah'mir and Vennet left Vennet's men to speak to the hunters, and the crew began to make camp out in the swamp around the mound. The hunters told their tale, of the Hand of the Revered rising from the battlefield, wreathed in flame, and falling upon the survivors.
"Why didn't he attack us?" Vennet asked, and was answered by one of the hunters. "I do not know, perhaps he is quiet before The Revered?"
"No," Dah'mir answered.
Vennet's men lit their fire, and the flame seemed to stream out into the battlefield, where a single corpse rose to it's feet. The corpse shambled towards the crew, who failed to notice it's approach. It slaughters the men, it's body becoming wreathed in flame as it does so, and then it explodes across the swamp towards the mound. Where Dah'mir and Vennet wait. The dolgaunt's body was a mess of raw flesh and smoking ash, and the tentacles that had been severed by Terfel were replaced by streams of flame erupting from the wounds.
"Hruucan!", Dah'mir called. The dolgaunt didn't stop. Dah'mir called the dolgaunts name again, but it still advanced.
Then Dah'mir stepped in front of Vennet and put the force of his presence behind the order. "Hruucan, stop!"
The Dolgaunt stopped. "Do you know me?" Dah'mir asked and the flesh on the dolgaunts face cracked as it smiled. "Dah'mir."
"Did you kill my hunters, Hruucan?" Dah'mir asked, as if scolding a child that had misbehaved.
The dolgaunt showed no signs of remorse. "Their lives sustained me, Revered." Hruucan gestured at the corpses of Vennet's crew. "Just as their lives will sustain me."
Hearing the priest and the dolgaunt discuss the murder of his crew sent a ripple of horror through Vennet. "Those were my crew!" he yelled, "How are we supposed to get back to Zarash'ak and the Lightning on Water without them!?"
"Be at ease, captain. I'll find you back to your ship, wherever she may be," the priest responded.
"What do you mean by that?" Vennet asks, his sense of horror only growing.
"Your ship has been on the move for several days now, captain. Perhaps your crew have stronger wills than I anticipated, or maybe something else. It doesn't matter." the priest responds.
Vennet stared at him for several seconds. "My ship has been stolen? My ship has been stolen and you didn't think it was important to tell me!? I'll be exposed! What good will wealth and power do me then!?" He tried to push Dah'mir away from him, but the green eyed mans fingers simply dug into his shoulders like claws.
"The disposition of your ship is of no concern to me, Vennet. She is where she is, and we are where we are. It is where we are that matters, you'll have your reward. I have promised it, but don't presume I owe you anything more than that."
Something in Dah'mir's eyes, something alien, made Vennet's guts quiver in fear.
Part 2
"But you do owe me more than that, Dah'mir. By now my bounty hunter will have captured Dandra, and the others will be either captured or dead." Vennet responded smugly, happy to finally have something over the green eyed man.
"Terfel is with your ship," the dolgaunt hissed. Both Dah'mir and Vennet turn to him sharply.
"How can you possibly know that?" Vennet asked
"I feel him like a wound, and he's moving quickly. When last I awoke, I felt him there-" and Hruucan pointed off in the direction of Zarash'ak, "-and now I feel him there." Hruucan pointed further along to the east. "Singe is with him."
"Storm at dawn" Vennet cursed, though Dah'mir only responded with a thin smile. "Your bounty hunter failed, Vennet."
"We'll find Dandra where we find Terfel and Singe, Dah'mir. Looks like it does matter where my ship is!" the half elf raged, wiping the smile from Dah'mir's face.
"We're going into the mound," Dah'mir responded.
The small party; green eyed priest, marked half elf and flaming dolgaunt made their way up to the much reduced Bonetree Mound. Dah'mir's fist clenched in rage at the sight of the collapsed mound entrance, culminating in a sigh of resignation. "I will clear the way," Dah'mir stated, before beginning to chant and wave his arms around gracefully. With each motion of his arms, earth shifted, a clump at a time, until the way is open once more.
Vennet's rage carried him up the hill to the mound, past all of the burning tents and corpses. It festered as he sat and watched Dah'mir clear the collapsed mine entrance for almost two hours, and it carried him into the mouth of the cave below the tree. It even carried him the first twenty or so steps into the mound, but then it broke and was replaced by fear.
Dah'mir seemed to sense the tension, "Are you frightened, captain?" he asked mockingly. Hruucan just laughed while Vennet let out an outraged denial.
The flames emitting from the dolgaunt's body were the only light source down in the cave, though none in the group needed it. Dah'mir led them past several chambers down the most well worn path, into a larger chamber that was littered with the shattered remains of Dah'mir's binding stone. Vennet remembered this room from Dandra's tale, the tables where the Kalashtar lay, the struts and tubing holding the Khyber shard. One of the kalashtar's remains was even still here, half rotted propped up against the bars of it's cage.
"I've seen enough," the green eyed man's voice uttered, "we go deeper."
As they continued deeper beneath the earth, the frequency that other tunnels broke off from the main one lessened. Soon, the great roots of the tree above the mound dwindled until they weren't present at all. The silence of the upper tunnels was replaced by harsh whispers and nonsense, none of which Vennet understood but he was sure some of them were threatening him.
"Dolgrims," murmured Dah'mir. "Stay calm. They'll attack if they sense fear."
Vennet swallowed his feelings.
Dah'mir led the group to a tunnel that seemed to end in a large crack in the wall, too narrow for them to walk together. Dah'mir went first, feeling his way through the gap, followed by Vennet and then Hruucan trailing them. The walls of this passage were rough, unlike those of the tunnels they've traveled down to get here. A seldom traveled path.
Vennet stepped out of the crevice, and the glow of Hruucan's flames, and seemed to step out into a void. He accidentally kicked a pebble in his rush to orient himself, which seemed to set off a cacophany of echoes. They were in a large cavern, opening up above and below them. They were about half way down, stood on a ledge, and other smaller ledges led down to the bottom like a staircase built for a giant. At floor level in the opposite wall was another tunnel entrance, this one ringed with smooth, colourful stones.
Vennet went first, charting a path down the strange steps to the tunnel mouth below. Dah'mir followed in the captain's wake, and Hruucan just gracefully leapt down to the bottom and waited for them. The stones ringing the tunnel mouth clearly hadn't come from the cavern, or perhaps this network of tunnels at all. They were all shapes, sizes, and colours, and all of them were worn smooth as if a river once passed through here. Up close, Vennet could see that the stones were all held in place by a glimmering, purple mortar.
"What is it?" the awe-struck half elf asked.
"A Gatekeeper Seal," Dah'mir answered. "A Gatekeeper Seal?" the half elf echoed, his voice full of wonder. Vennet's stomach felt ready to rise out of his mouth, for most of his life he'd heard and known nothing of the Gatekeepers. It was only after he'd found his faith in the Dragon Below that he had learned of them, their ancient enemy.
"You're going to break it?" he asked, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow.
"No." answered Dah'mir.
Part 3
Dah'mir got to his knees in front of the mosaic of coloured stones that capped the small tunnel, raising his arms as if in offering. He began to chant, though Vennet didn't recognise the words that the green eyed man spoke. They were like nothing he'd ever heard, not quite a real language as he understood them but not the archaic syllables of arcane magic, either.
One by one the stones began to emit a soft glow, the various colours of their surfaces reflected in the light that emanated from them. Within minutes the whole tunnel is lit up in a chaotic maelstrom of colour, like an armada of rainbows twirling around each other. Every colour that Vennet could think of was represented, and several colours that he wouldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams.
"It's beautiful," the half elf stated, mouth hung open as he looked all around him.
Then the air seemed to pop as the pressure broke, and Vennet found that he was on the ground next to Dah'mir, chanting as well. He shot to his feet and reeled backwards, and tried to stop the words streaming from his mouth. He covered his mouth with his hands, but it only muffled the sound of his voice. The tunnel seemed to wobble and distort, and then contract. The end of the tunnel rushed towards him.
A voice crashed through the tunnel like the clap of thunder, and all Vennet could do to respond was scream.
Without warning, the atmosphere returned and the world fell silent. Vennet was left feeling hollow, like he'd been listening to the sweetest music for all of his life and only realised it in this moment, when it had stopped. He climbed to his feet, his throat raw. How long had he been screaming for? Why had he been screaming? He tentatively touched his face and his hands came away wet, had he been crying?
Vennet turned his head and looked out of the mouth of the tunnel, into the larger chamber with the ledges. How curious a sight, he thought, watching a huge copper dragon writhe and thrash, smashing the cavern around it. The dragon seemed to distort, shrinking into the form of a heron and back into a dragon. Hruucan stood at the mouth of the tunnel, silently watching. Vennet felt as if he was watching a predator preparing to ambush it's prey.
He went to join the dolgaunt, and watched as the dragonheron deliberated over what it really was. Vennet wondered if maybe there was a dragon inside of him too, wouldn't that be swell?
"Not many people live to see a dragon." spoke the wind, and Vennet sighed. "Then I am dead."
"Not yet." came the whisper on the draft currents circulating throughout the cave.
At last, the dragon's struggle ceased and in it's place perched a large, greasy black heron. The heron breathed deeply, seeming worn out, and pierced into the pair with it's acid green eyes.
"I am unable to assume human form," the bird spoke, and Vennet giggled to himself. How silly, a talking bird?
The journey back through the tunnels and out of the mound seemed to go much faster than the journey in to Vennet. Maybe it was because the dolgrims had gone quiet, but strangely the half elf felt none of the fear he had before. He was giddy, in fact. The only damper on this glorious moment was the rage of the heron that claimed to be Dah'mir that hobbled beside him. The heron flew when it could, but the caves were sometimes tight and necessitated that it travel on the ground.
The heron wore anger like a fine cloak, and even though Vennet was pretty sure he could take a dumb bird, he didn't fancy his chances with this particular one. He wouldn't let the bird's sour mood ruin his own, however. Dah'mir had promised him he would be rewarded, and he had been!
The Siberys Mark of Storm. The very wind spoke to him now! None in the house would stand in his way now, Siberys marks are too rare to throw away over something as minor as a few murdered passengers.
"What other wonders might the Dragon Below bestow upon you?" came the whisper on the wind, and Vennet giggled with glee.
Part 4
"It would seem, captain, that the disposition of your ship is now my concern." said the heron, his green eyes boring a hole through Vennet's indomitable good cheer.
They were outside of the Bonetree Mound, taking stock of their situation. The Lightning on Water had been stolen by Terfel and Singe, at least. Hruucan could feel them, they were together and travelling quickly. Dah'mir was unable to assume human form, this would limit their ability to move and operate within cities. As much as it wounded his pride, the dragon would need to rely more heavily on agents like Vennet, he couldn't afford to alienate the half-elf now.
Dah'mir took to the sky, and transformed into his true, draconic form in midair. He crashed back down in the swamp, sending a cascade of water up all around him. His presence was more potent in this form, and it drove Vennet and Hruucan to their knees.
"Rejoice, captain. You will be the first mortal I have ever allowed to ride on my back." the dragon stated, stalking around the pair like a cat on the hunt. "Hruucan will allow us to track our prey. Fire revives you, Hruucan, but can you extinguish yourself?"
The dolgaunt looked as concerned by this question as one could reasonably expect a charred, eyeless hobgoblin face to look. "No," he stated.
"Then allow me." replied the dragon, before beating his wings against the air and causing a torrent of wind to bear down on the pair.
"Look to Hruucan," whispered the wind, and Vennet did.
The dolgaunt, arms flailing behind him, stood his ground and managed to stay lit for several seconds. As inevitable as the tide, however, his flames began to sputter and soon he was just a charred corpse once more. Vennet tore a cloak from a nearby orc corpse, shook the maggots off, and bundled Hruucan within it. "To keep him blowing away in the wind." the half-elf said thoughtfully.
Vennet climbed onto Dah'mir's back, resting his bundled charge in his lap and nestling his hands between some of the dragon's scales. Dah'mir leaped on powerful legs and caught an air current on his wings, climbing into the sky. Once they were at a sufficient elevation, the dragon rhythmically spoke some words that were alien to Vennet, and a dragonshard embedded in his leg flared bright.
They seemed to become consumed by shadow, and then Vennet found himself in a world of black and white. They seemed to be able to travel faster in this place, this world without colour, and the experience of flying on a dragon was unlike anything Vennet had ever experienced. It was exhilarating.
"Better than an airship!" shouted the wind, and Vennet had to agree.
Vennet lost track of time, and when they emerged from the gray and colour returned to the world, they were over open sea. When they left the Bonetree Mound, it was early morning but the sun was setting now. They must have been flying for hours, and the ache in Vennet's abused muscles seemed to corroborate that. He yelled in outrage when he spotted the ship, his ship, sailing without him. The elemental ring was active, his crew had betrayed him!
Dah'mir swooped low, and shouts arose from the deck of the ship. Vennet dropped from the dragon's back, landing harshly on his legs and losing his footing. The bundled Hruucan slid across the deck and caught on the railing, just shy of falling into the ocean. Someone ran over to help him to his feet, and he made eye contact with his bosun.
"Captain?" Karth asked, his eyes wild with fear. "You traitor!" Vennet screamed, pushing Karth down and rushing to the back of the ship.
The herons that had followed Dah'mir into the plane of shadow caught up then, and descended upon the crew. Claws slashed, beaks pierced, and the crew screamed.
"Stop the ship!" Vennet screamed at Marolis, who only shook his head in response. Vennet responded by swinging his cutlass with both hands, but at a bad angle, cutting through Marolis' neck and getting stuck in the first mate's shoulder. Vennet yelled as he tried to yank the sword free, but gave up in frustration and gripped the wheel of the ship.
The elemental responded to him instantly, and soon the Lightning on Water was dead in the water. The heron Dah'mir landed on the railing next to him. "Search the ship, find them." it ordered.
Vennet did a sweep, calling out for his quarries. "Dandra? Terfel? Singe?" he called, an almost musical lilt to his voice as he skipped across the deck.
"They aren't here." whispered the wind, but Vennet had to check for himself.
He went down into the hold, but they weren't there either. Someone else was though, and they were crying. A large man stepped out from behind a crate and swung a length of wood at Vennet, but he ducked below it and slapped them across the face. Vennet grabbed their collar, pulling them down, and then chained them to the ring in the hold.
"Where are they? Where did they go!?" the half-elf screamed at this sobbing captive.
"We left them at Vralkek," cried Karth, now chained to the floor. "I don't know where they went from there!" he protested.
Vennet sighed, and skipped back up the stairs. "Captain?" Karth asked, horror settling in as he realised what was happening. "You can't just leave me here! Vennet! I told you what you wanted to know!"
But Vennet was gone.
Part 5
Vennet skipped up the stairs and back onto the deck, and then made his way up to where the green eyed heron waited for him, perched on the railing next to the wheel of wind and water.
"Well?" asked the heron, in a voice much too large for a creature of it's size.
"They aren't here, Karth said they dropped them off in Vralkek." answered Vennet, who pretended he couldn't hear his bosun shouting and crying down below.
"Vralkek? But why would they-" Dah'mir uncharacteristically paused, before resuming the sentence.
"I know what they're doing. We don't need to chase them anymore, Vennet. Collect Hruucan."
The heron took to the sky and as it did so, it grew and twisted into the shape of a copper dragon. The dragon wheeled around the now derelict elemental galleon, before perching heavily on the deck. Dah'mir lowered his head, and Vennet climbed back on, Hruucan safely bundled up in his lap.
"Better than an airship" the wind repeated, and Vennet had to agree.
"Never. Say that again" came the response from the dragon. Could he hear the wind too!?
Part 6
"Look out the window" ordered the wind, and Vennet was ever it's loyal servant.
Tzaryan rose into the air, as natural as walking, and faded out of sight after speaking to Vennet's nemesi. From there, he floated up to the peak of the tallest tower in Tzaryan Keep. He became visible again as he entered through the open window in the observatory.
"Teach me how to do that" the half elf ordered as the oni entered the room.
"Shut up, Vennet" came the reply from the heron perched on a table nearby. "They requested access to the ruins?" Dah'mir asked.
"They did" replied Tzaryan.
"And you'll grant their request?" asked the heron.
"I will, though there isn't much out there to see unless they dig." Tzaryan said.
"Oh, they'll dig," stated the heron, very much giving the impression that he would be scratching his chin if he had hands. "If they don't, I've vastly overestimated them. As for my side of our arrangement, Tzaryan, come to the telescope." Thankfully for Dah'mir, the observatory was large enough for him to fly in his heron form, and avoid the indignity of hopping along the ground like a finch.
He landed next to the telescope, and waited for Tzaryan to saunter over. Once the oni was in place, Dah'mir's lesson began.
"There are secrets written in the Ring of Siberys, if you know where to look, and what you're looking for..."
Part 7
Vennet stood on the balcony of the tower apartment they were staying in, shirtless to allow the wind to soothe his sore skin.
"Look down," whispered the wind, and Vennet did, watching the city unfold beneath him. Sharn was not a place to live if you were afraid of heights, though they weren't all that high considering. Vennet looked up to the towers above, unable to really see the sky from here, and a pang of jealousy hit him. He could imagine the other dragonmarked scions, living in luxury and going to parties. He should've been up there with them.
"Soon you will be," the wind preened. It always knew what to say. "Once you have come into your power."
Vennet sighed. It was supposed to be impossible for a Siberys Mark to manifest on someone who had already manifested a lesser mark, and yet the lords of Khyber had seen fit to do it anyway. Vennet was certain that nothing was impossible for them. It was taking a while for it to develop fully, though, and whilst he could feel his dragonmark growing and getting more powerful, that feeling was mostly itchy.
"Soon you'll be mine to command." Vennet whispered to the wind.
"To command?" the wind answered
"Do you think you could resist the Siberys Mark of Storm?" Vennet asked, and the wind had no answer for this.
"Vennet? Where are you?" called the voice of his master. The voice sounded irritated, something hadn't gone his way. Once, this tone of voice might have frightened Vennet, but what he'd seen beneath the mound had seared all the fear out of him.
"On the balcony!" he called back, walking back into the apartment. Perched on a windowsill was a slightly larger than average black feathered heron, with the most striking green eyes. It was at this point that it occurred to Vennet that he wasn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason the heron's intense gaze made him feel self conscious. He reached for his shirt, which he'd left on the balcony and weighed down with a rock to prevent it from blowing away.
He put the shirt on, hurriedly, but not too quickly. He didn't want Dah'mir to think that he was self conscious or anything.
"Cool as a cucumber," affirmed the wind.
"Talking to the wind again, Vennet?" Dah'mir asked, and Vennet nodded. Dah'mir was so smart, could he hear the wind too?
"There's been a setback," the dragon continued, "we need to move faster than we anticipated. Are you ready?"
"A setback?" the wind wondered
"A setback?" Vennet asked, but Dah'mir didn't seem inclined to explain. "A scion of House Lyrandar is always at their most comfortable when moving quickly, master."