Wrath of the Dragonkin

[Lady Jenn]

Vennar was a tall, raven-haired, middle-aged blacksmith who stood over an anvil, beating his newest sword into shape, occasionally looking over his shoulder towards the doorway to his forge. His daughter had yet to return, and after what had happened to his brother he feared for her being out alone in the city, even though he knew she was skilled enough to protect herself.

He picked up the sword, giving it a few practice swings and smiling as he saw that it was perfect as usual. This one was intended for a special use however, one he had long expected to come but had still dreaded. He walked over to where a small painting of a beautiful young woman hung, kneeling down in front of it and closing his eyes for a moment, before looking up at the image.

"I am sorry Ainur," he said quietly. "I have failed you. I promised I would our daughter out of the wars that scarred this world, but now I fear I have no choice in the matter, I see no other option anymore." He let out a hacking cough, resting a hand on a nearby stool to steady himself.

[AbyssDruid]

Delphine was a gangly creature, by all rights the folk of the city did not expect her to be much to look at. But it mattered not to the girl, who had grown on sterner stuff than romantic tales and fine gowns. Able to lift a sword long before she was longer than it's blade, she'd never been one to spend much time at all contemplating the inconsequentials of life. Was it her fault that as a woman in such a society as theirs, there happened to be so many? A free spirit by any definition, Delphine had instead plowed straight ahead into a life of adventure and mischief without a care as to how it might make her appear...or how dangerous it might be.

It would be no different that day or any other day before or after it. Traveling in the morning into the heart of the city, she'd watched from her place upon the fountain's wall as pick pockets wove their way around the square and one by one, relieved ladies and lords alike of their much too heavy purse. They were children, some years younger than she, and so she did not alert the guards nor make any move to stop them. Orphans needed to eat. It was a thief of a different sort she was after, and it was late in the afternoon when her quarry arrived. A young man and his entourage, all dressed as the fully grown street urchins they were, parading through the market and across the square as though they owned the place...while of course collecting 'rent' from the unsuspecting who occupied the space.

Hopping from her vantage point, Delphine meandered her way toward the boys, watching and yet not. Eyes cast downward, she passed behind the last of the young men and with a small knife from her belt, cut the purse from his own belt without so much as a jingle of coin. He would be most cross when he found out who'd stolen from him, but that would be a bit of fun in it's own right. So, with a full purse, she made her way back to her fathers forge, grinning from ear to ear. She was halfway down the street toward home when she realized the familiar chime of her father's hammer against his anvil was silent. Brow furrowed, she quickened her pace, hoping as she passed through the doorway, he wouldn't be angry at her tardiness in returning home.

"Father?" she called out as she entered, dropping the coin purse behind a jar for later(best he didn't know what she'd been up to).

"I know I'm late, but I'll see to supper right away. I'll have soup on in the hour."

[Lady Jenn]

He was distracted enough that he only heard her second call, finally being shaken from his trance by the mention of soup. He stood up suddenly whirling on her with a feeling of anger he wouldn't normally have shown, not to her anyway.

"Delphine, you should not be out this late in the city," he snapped. "If Myraz's men had...if they'd..." In a moment the rage slipped from him, as he collapsed into a nearby chair, unable to hold in a sob. "Delphine...your uncle, he...Myraz has him. I don't know why, and I couldn't get access to him, I fear he..."

He buried his head in his hands, his body shaking as he wept. Ordinarily he wouldn't have let his daughter see his grief, but he felt himself unable to hold it in anymore. Especially when, unknown to his daughter, he was sick and it was only getting worse. The only sound for a few moments were his sobs and the sound of his tears falling against his apron.

Unseen by Vennar a second figure had entered the forge, this one a short, hunched figure leaning on a wooden staff that seemed impossibly ancient, the hand that gripped it almost as wrinkled as the wood was.

[AbyssDruid]

She halted at her father's anger, brow furrowed as she looked up and into his face- for though she was a tall girl, he was taller. His harsh words surprised her, not for getting into trouble or wandering where she shouldn't. That was certainly no surprise to either of them. But she'd always thought his temper evenly matched to the situation...and now felt slightly skewed. Delphine moved to put the cauldron onto the hook over the fire as he continued on, her expression of one chastened. For though she had every intention of wandering where she pleased again, her regret at his worry and upset over it was genuine.

Her hands stopped moving, her father nearly sobbed with news her uncle was taken. It was all she could do to squeeze the pot's handle, her knuckles gone white. Her father wept, and if he wept, it seemed certain in her world that things were at their absolute worst. Delphine strode across the room, dinner and the empty cauldron forgotten. Reaching out, she gathered her fathers head and shoulders into her arms, cradling him as he had so often her in years past.

"We will find a way to get him back, father. You know we will. Please don't be afraid."

Her eyes cast down, she almost didn't see the newcomer, his entry silent and her focus elsewhere. But she happened to look up after a moment, to lock eyes with the hunched figure. She nudged her father, speaking softly,

"Father, look."

[Lady Jenn]

"I'm afraid if Myraz has him it is already too late," the figure said, pulling their hood back to reveal the ancient face of a woman with long white hair, her intense grey eyes fixing a glare in the direction of Vennar. "I warned you this would happen if you waited, if the king realises...You've told Delphine our plan, haven't you?"

"I haven't had the chance Karolina, we were meant to have more ti-"

"We don't have that time anymore," Karolina said, interrupting him. "Get the supplies, I suppose it's up to me to bring her up to speed then." As Vennar headed into the house Karolina turned to Delphine, a fond smile crossing her face. "I doubt you remember me, I haven't seen you properly since before..." she paused, sparing a glance in the direction of the memorial. "I only wish I was here for a happier reason. What would you say if I told you the King was only on his throne due to a powerful relic he stole from an ancient dragon?"

"Then you intend to send my daughter to the Northlands?" Vennar asked, a loaded backpack in one hand. "Karolina, trained armies have died trying to reach Dragonblight."

"You think I don't know that?" the woman snapped. "But this is the only option, unless you know of something better."

Vennar could offer no response, staring at the floor.