Awkwardly, Hilda leaned back and cast her line into the air, sending her lure into the center of the pound with a resounding plop. Ivan squawked as he watched from above, clearly displeased with her form.
“You mustn’t bend at the knees, lady guardian, if you wish to perform a proper cast!” the familiar scolded.
I stepped up next to Hilda and performed a pitiful cast of my own, drawing a croak of disapproval from Kord. I turned and gave the nature sprite a glare, who quickly rebounded with a look of amphibious indifference. Damned familiars...
Several moments passed and the pond remained completely still, save for a minor ripple caused by the light breeze in the air. I found my eyes wandering in every direction but the water, searching for something to entertain my mind. How could people have done this for entire days on end? It just didn’t seem fathomable.
Suddenly, the water began to churn as something moved beneath the pond’s surface, eliciting a feeling of excitement. I gripped the tide rod with sweaty palms, ready to yank at the first nibble.
“C’mon,” I said, eyes now intensely focused on the water.
“Here we go!” Hilda said as the waves grew more intense.
Suddenly, water sprayed into the air as something surfaced! My eyes locked onto the bulbous creature that emerged from the murky depths, a scaly-finned behemoth that flopped about uncontrollably as it skated across the top of the water.
I lowered my rod and took a closer look at the fish skimming the water in my direction... it was then that I noticed it. On the underside of the aquatic creature swam Razyr, his reptilian jaws clenched onto the fish’s underbelly.
With a sigh, I watched as the drake familiar swam to the pond’s edge and yanked the fish out of the water before plopping it at my feet, a toothy grin stretched across his draconian face.
“For you, Zander,” he said, his childish voice full of unbridled glee.
I hid my disappointment as I cast my tide rod aside and leaned down to give the familiar a soft scratch under the chin. My eyes scanned over the massive fish lying at my feet... it was large enough to feed our entire party.
Slowly, a smile began to creep over my face. My dreams of becoming a great Aetherian fisherman had been dashed, but damnit, we would be eating well tonight!
><><
A bit later, we gathered in the clearing as we prepared to feast on Razyr’s catch, a particular meaty bantafish common to some of Aetheria’s marshy areas. Using one of Taryn’s blades as a makeshift barbecue spit, I slowly rotated the fish over one of Salence’s flames.
Razyr beamed as me and the others began to salivate from the smells of the roasting bantafish, an aroma that heavily outweighed the pungent smell of the pond. I gave the drake a thankful nod, causing the familiar to bare his teeth in unbridled joy... that damned familiar liked attention more than a child.
A few moments later, Brenton borrowed a second knife from Taryn and began cutting the bantafish into portions. Normally, Taryn was quite protective of his blades and would’ve given us a hard time about using them for something as miniscule as cooking, but now he seemed almost comatose, handing over his finely crafted daggers with this glazed-over look in his eyes. Something wasn’t quite right with him…
As expected, Morose took his share and walked off, choosing to eat in solitude rather than mingle with the rest of the group. I was certain he viewed this little excursion back to Ravenhold as some sort of babysitting task... smug bastard.
I quickly disregarded the feeling as I took a seat in the grass and began to commune with the rest of the party. Discovering the others, having them around these past few months... it had been one of this world’s greatest treasures. From Hilda’s reassuring smile to Brenton’s quizzical glances to Razyr’s strange out-of-the-blue questions, this ragtag bunch had quickly grown from mere party members to something more... they’d grown to become family.
Soon Aetheria’s sun took its dip, making way for the realm’s pair of moons. I lay back in the grass, staring up at the two glowing orbs as Hilda rested her head on my chest. To my left, Brenton and Helena continued a heated discussion from earlier, one in which Brenton argued that demonic summoning glyphs were rooted in the school of rune magick.
“Take for instance, the lesser demon glyph,” Brenton droned on. “The insignias used to create such a glyph closely match up to some of runecasting’s most basic runes.”
“How many times do I have to explain this to you,” Helena shot back. “Demonology is based on magick drawn from the infernal realm!”
Hilda let out a giggle as the two continued to argue. “They sound like an old married couple,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder and running down the length of my torso.
I gave her a funny look. “I’m not sure what kind of old married couples you’re used to hanging around with, but the ones I’ve met never argued about summoning demons.”
“Well, I guess that means either you’re rather boring or I’m just a bit crazy,” she replied coyly.
“I am not boring,” I replied as a huge grin formed on my face.
Carefully, I ran my fingers through Hilda’s silky blonde hair as her head slightly elevated with each of my passing breaths. She remained quiet for the next few moments, and I almost thought she had fallen asleep, but I soon realized that her eyes were transfixed on something....
Stopped in the grass a ways away from the others was Taryn, that glazed look still resting upon his face. It wasn’t uncommon for the man to be by his lonesome... in fact, it was the usual. Still, something about his demeanor was off, something unnatural.
I focused on the rogue.
Taryn
Lvl 27 Rogue
(Afflicted ???)
His health reticle was a sickly yellow instead of the usual green, and he still had that mysterious affliction he’d gotten back at the temple. He was clearly not getting any better.
“We need to get Taryn to one of the guild’s clerics as soon as we arrive,” Hilda said, as if she was reading my thoughts. “I’ve been watching him the past couple of days... he won’t admit it, but he’s not well.”
I nodded in agreement. “We’ll be back in Ravenhold tomorrow, and I’ll make sure we get him help first thing. I’m not going to let something happen to one of ours when we’re this close to going home.”
With that, Hilda adjusted her posture in order to wrap her arms around me more tightly, a feeling I’d grown to love.
><><
We departed at first light of the following morning, making our way east towards the massive city that seemed to loom just beyond the horizon. By afternoon the city was in sight, a sprawling cityscape that served as a central hub for players all around Aetheria. I remembered fondly the wonderment I felt upon entering the city for the first time... and the horror brought about by the now-deceased Lord Vazryn.
We trailed Morose, making our way around the outskirts of the city until we reached the ruins scattered about Karrihdan’s south side. Among the ruins stood a fortress of stone, seemingly unguarded save for the unseen archers hidden among the stone. The structure seemed rather unremarkable, but inside lied the Highraven and our key to getting home.
We had reached Ravenhold.
6
Ravenhold
Year of Rebirth 0077
“Welcome back, sir,” a violet-cloaked raven said as Morose led us into the dimly lit halls of Ravenhold. The assassin merely nodded in response, drawing a stiff salute from the guard as we passed.
We traveled down the hall like a grand procession, with Morose taking the lead while Brenton helped the now-sickly Taryn take up the rear. His condition was worsening... whatever affliction was affecting him would need to be remedied quickly before it consumed him, body and soul.
“We need to get Taryn to the guild clerics,” I said, rushing to take Morose’s side.
The assassin didn’t so much as bother to look at me before responding. “The boy is not a member of Ravenflight, and therefore is not entitled
to services offered by the guild.”
I stopped in my tracks, stunned by the man’s cold-hearted answer. “Damnit, that man had my back on my trip to Airrigar! He helped us take down Vazryn!”
Morose paused just long enough to give me a bone-chilling stare. The others were looking now, awaiting the man’s response.
“Fine,” he said, giving Taryn a quick glance. “I’ll have him taken below to the apothecary... but any service provided to him will be coming out of your pocket, not the guild coffers.” My eyes stayed locked on the assassin as he signaled for a nearby guard to retrieve Taryn. Slowly, the raven guard approached, taking the afflicted rogue under the arm before guiding him down one of the guild’s western halls.
“I’m going with him!” Brenton announced before scrambling down the hall behind the pair.
Morose gave them a sidelong glance before shaking his head.
I cut my eyes at him as he began to walk away. Bastard… only concerned with what was best for the guild. Perhaps it was good that we would finally be parting ways.
><><
A few moments later, we found ourselves in the central chamber of Ravenhold, a place that found itself much busier than in the first days of AGO. Ravenflight had been busy bolstering the guild with new recruits as of late... likely it was to build a defense against the encroaching iron wolves, though I suspected it was more to solidify our place as the strongest guild in Aetheria. Why else would Morose and the other officers carry themselves with such an air of superiority?
“The Highraven and I have a few matters to discuss...” Morose said in his usual dark tone. “I’ll send for you afterwards. Don’t make yourself difficult to find.”
“I’ll be here,” I said, replying with a sharp tone of my own. The assassin nodded, then immediately set off towards Wesley’s chambers.
“I can’t believe you two are members of this dump,” Helena said, her gaze shifting across the stone walls of the main chamber. “I mean, really... this place is run by a bunch of assholes.”
Her gargoyle, Doomswell, began to cackle on her shoulder while Ivan took to the air, his beaked face twisted in disgust.
“Perhaps,” Hilda responded, carefully considering her next words. “Perhaps they are a bit gruff, but consider the help they’ve provided to Zander and I. Wesley helped guide us to Lord Vazryn, he gave us the tools we needed to defeat him... Even Morose helped lead the attack on the Highlord’s keep.”
“Yeah?” Helena responded, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what has come of that? You’re still stuck here in AGO.”
“Maybe not for much longer,” I chimed in, effectively ending the argument.
Helena rolled her eyes before taking her leave, heading over to the guild’s mage quarters to pick up some components for her spells. That left just Hilda and I... well, and our small group of familiars.
“This place... it is veiled in shadow, Zander...” Salence said in his raspy draconic voice as he swooped down to take a perch on my shoulder opposite Razyr. “Perhaps some dragon fire would do well to brighten its dark corners.”
“Salence is right, Zander,” Razyr added. “Something in this place feels unnatural.”
“Then keep your eyes peeled, guys,” I responded. “If all goes well, then we’ll be going home very soon...” My voice trailed off as I made a sudden realization. Going home... that meant leaving behind Razyr and Salence and Kord, creatures that had bonded with my body, with my very soul! These familiars of mine had selflessly lent me their strength and kinship.... could I so easily just leave them behind?
“Hey Zan, check this out!” Hilda yelled, pulling me out of my thoughts. Her attention had averted to a stone alcove to the right of the guild’s main chamber. Inside stood a burly dwarf with a curly jet-black beard, his hairy upper body covered in nothing more than a thick leather strap around his waist. Tied to the strap were a number of iron tools used for smithing, most notably an array of ornate hammers in varying sizes, and in front of the man sat a large anvil carved of blackened stone. It didn’t have the luster of obsidian that nevermore possessed, but rather carried a worn look to it, as though it had been seeing use for decades.
“Welcome lads, to Avery’s alley,” the dwarf proclaimed. “I be Avery Blackanvil, the best damned blacksmith in Ravenflight.” His voice echoed through the alcove with a stout, dwarvish charm. “Do ye be needing your swords sharpened, or perhaps a dent removed from your suit of armor?” He gave me a quick wink as he glanced over my battle-worn field plate.
Suddenly, Hilda’s eyes lit up as she scrambled to retrieve something from her inventory. In seconds, she produced a shimmering crimson scale in her grasp.... the pristine dragon scale each of us had earned during the raid of Ashmurgar.
“What can you do with this?” she asked, unable to hide a growing excitement in her voice.
The dwarf’s eyes went wide as he took hold of the scale. “Let me have a look now,” he said as he retrieved a thin spyglass from his belt. The dwarf inspected the scale for several seconds, manipulating it in his thick fingers before finally handing it back to the guardian.
“That there scale is from the tail of a mighty red. I could make a fine blade out of this...”
Hilda’s beamed with excitement as the dwarf praised the quality of the dragon scale. Without hesitating, I produced a scale of my own and handed it to Avery.
“Ah, this one appears to be from the dragon’s back... the most defensible spot on the fiery beast. I could make a fine shield with this.”
I frowned. “I’m not much of a shield user...” My gaze lingered towards Hilda. “Perhaps we could trade?”
The woman shot me a quick glare. “Maybe I wanted the blade, Zan.”
“Well, uh, you see...” I tried to force out a response. Noticing my distress, she shot me a disarming smile, easing her feigned tension. “The scales are bound to us, Zan. I don’t think we can trade them.”
“The lady is right,” Avery said, chiming in with his dwarvish charm. “Dragons are a mythic breed of beast. When slain, they shed scales that become bound to the soul of the warrior who slayed them... along with a few other magickal properties. Trying to trade it off to someone else will leave the scale dull and brittle.”
“I guess a shield it is,” I said with reluctance, though I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the damned thing.
Avery gave me a quick glance, then turned to give the dragon scale another thoughtful look. “No, a shield won’t do yourself a bit of good. Perhaps....”
Suddenly, the smith leapt into action, carefully placing the pristine scale on the flat surface of his anvil. The top of the anvil began to glow a soft blue as runic markings illuminated in the blackened stone. The aura filled the room, spreading the light like a warmth that touched anyone and anything in its vicinity. It was the same feeling that I got when Aether coursed through my veins… it looked like Avery was more than just your average blacksmith. No, this skilled dwarf was a craftsman of high regard, a being who’d elevated his craft to the highest level. He was an Aether-Smith.
CRACK!
Avery retrieved a fine hammer from his belt and smacked it against the scale, causing a small wave of energy to ripple from the anvil beneath. Again, and again, he slammed the hammer down, each strike infusing more Aether into the crimson shard.
My eyes went wide as the scale began to morph under the weight of his blows, stretching and elongating to take the form of something new. It was fascinating to watch the dwarf work his craft, fueled by magickk rather than the intense heat that blacksmithing required... Such was the transformative power of Aether.
With a final resounding thud, Avery set aside his hammer and lifted the finished product, a satisfied grin spread across his bearded face. “This should suit you well, lad,” he said as he handed over the newly crafted item.
Ashbringer’s Vambrace
Crafted from the scale of the red wyrm Ashmurgar and imbued with Aether, this armguard is strong enough to deflect blows
from even the strongest of attacks. It also provides the wearer increased resistance to fire-based attacks.
I looked on with awe as Avery reached forward and fitted the crimson vambrace to my arm. It was hard like steel, yet flexible enough to leave my arm movements free of restriction. The texture of the item made it appear like my arm itself was covered in the scales of a red dragon… now this was better than a shield.
“You know, you’re wearing a piece of my cousin on your arm,” Salence growled as he adjusted his perch on my shoulder.
The color drained from my face as I turned my head to regard the dragon familiar. “But, but... I thought you were manifested from Aether?”
The dragon responded by giving me a mischievous grin. Dammit all, the little beast must’ve been hanging around Razyr too much!
Next, the Aether-Smith placed Hilda’s dragon scale on the runic anvil and again began smashing away with his hammer. Slowly but surely, the scale began to elongate and take form. “Oh, this is going to be something special!” he proclaimed as his hammer strikes became more frequent, more furious. The item that was forming began to glow more intensely, filling the alcove with blue light. Hilda and I inched closer, watching with eager anticipation… and then it was over.
Avery set aside his hammer and retrieved the newly forged item, a magnificent curved crimson blade with a jet-black hilt.
Dragon Dance
A masterwork blade crafted from the tail of the young red, Ashmurgar. This weapon is imbued with the element of fire.
Hilda’s eyes seemed to sparkle as she set her sights on the blade, a weapon finer than any she held before. She grasped the hilt in her soft, pale hand and hoisted the weapon into the air before giving the blade a quick slash. Flames trailed her movement as she cut through the air, causing Ivan to let out an alarming squawk.
The Blade Guardian Page 4
