Whims of Kiraan

The Broken City

Morning came all too quickly for Ithan. His master's words lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of unease that he had never felt before. How soon is "soon"? He sat up groggily and stretched his arms out to his sides, squeezing his eyes closed.

"Heads up!" he heard Ian shout suddenly just before something hard hit him in the face. He opened his eyes again and growled at the halfling, who was seated across from him on the other side of the small pit that had once been the group's campfire. Unit 17 sat to his left, still hunched over. "Breakfast!" An apple, bruised from its impact with his face, lay on the ground in front of him. He rolled his eyes and picked up the fruit, brushing the dirt off and taking a bite.

"That's a good apple," he said as the sweet flavor passed through his mouth. "Nice and juicy. Where'd you get this?"

"Fen and I picked 'em earlier," the halfling replied. Ithan looked behind him; Fenvyre was still laid back against the tree. "You two were awfully snuggly last night." Ian cackled as Ithan growled at him again.

"How do you feel?" Fenvyre asked. Ithan sat there for a moment, gauging his condition. He was still a bit cold, but he attributed that to the morning air.

"I think I'm going to make it," he laughed as he looked over his shoulder at the dragonkin. She smiled lightly as Ithan scanned the area. "Where are Irse and Taer'inar?"

"They're over behind that tree," Ian replied, pointing his thumb over his shoulder toward one of the larger nearby trees. "They're talking about you. They're gonna sell you off to the hobgoblins to pay me back the fifty gold you owe me‍—"

"Oh, leave him alone," Fenvyre scolded.

"Tell you what, half-pint," Ithan said. "I'll give you a hundred gold when we get back to Greenreach."

"Five hundred," Ian countered.

"Two-fifty. Final offer."

"Hmm..." The halfling put a hand under his chin and squinted at Ithan. "All right, sold." As he spoke, Ithan saw Irse and Taer'inar step out from behind the tree, each looking a bit frustrated. As they approached the group, Taer'inar gave Unit 17 a quick pat on the back, spurring the terran to consciousness.

"What is our status?" he said nearly immediately as he sat up straight.

"Dhurik and Bimpnottin will meet you all at the fort," Taer'inar replied. "But... it seems they have agreed to... hunt down the witch."

"Burn the witch!" Ian shouted as he jumped up and raised his fist into the air. After earning glares from both Irse and Taer'inar, Ian sat down and crossed his arms in silent frustration.

"Anyway," Taer'inar continued, "if you decide to join them, please do try to be careful. She has proven herself to be a powerful adversary, conjuring great storms and commanding a large army of gnolls."

"It is an absolutely awful idea," Irse griped. "We know so little about this witch and they want to just waltz into her lair to try to kill her."

"Try to limit yourselves to reconnaissance, if you can," Taer'inar responded. "If things get rough, just get out. I'll join you when I am able."

"I hope you find what you are looking for," Unit 17 said to the elf as he stood up. "Please keep us updated."

"I will," Taer'inar said. He waved to the group, his gaze lingering on Ithan for just a moment longer than the others, and turned to walk back toward Myth Veri'Shantar. The rest of the group finished packing their things and headed north, back toward the hobgoblin fort. It did not take long for them to arrive, and as they entered the camp, they were greeted with enthusiastic shouts from the hobgoblin soldiers.