The Black Wind Howls [Darkest Pinkerlocke Reboot]

[Varethyn]

Day 39


...you just can't make this stuff up.

Normally I'm meant to roll 1-19 to determine what breed I get, but after the previous chapter I think it's obvious who needs to come in. Say hello to Saisset!

[Ana]

Uhh I like Saisset. I love his Thylacine

[Falcon]

Oh my gosh he's so pretty and all the scries for him in his bio are amazing.

(And given the timing of your last few item pulls, I can't help but picture Pinkerton sitting with his forepaws steepled like some evil mastermind.)

[Varethyn]

I spent far too long on this. You're welcome

[Falcon]

I know I already said it over on Discord, but I gotta say it again: this is glorious, thank you!

[Ana]

Amazing art!!!

[Varethyn]

Day 40




Whyyyyy did the first roll have to be Dismas? Wait, it wouldn't matter cos Nalani's still in recovery. Whyyyyy did the second roll have to be Saisset?

This went as well as the last run except worse cos it was twice as many fights. The one three-pack I attempted all three targeted Sai and KO'd him before I could do anything. Stupid RNG. Even better, one of the 2-packs not only focused him but he also got crit for a second Death's Door. After he'd just healed. Not to full but it wouldn't have mattered. Thankfully he flipped Tails but holy hell, RNG is out for blood today. No further Death's Doors from there thankfully, though it was very slow as I carefully picked fights and there were a few more close calls. Mostly for Sai but also once for Vee after receiving a brutal crit.

Sai is now lv 5 and Vee lv 7.

Notable Loot:

+1 Player Heart Attack

[Ana]

Rng is pure evil!! I have had 15 scatters lately without luck ..
Too bad it's out for you too

[Varethyn]

Day 41



Initially I thought I should draw Musard since she's next chronologically but I ended up drawing this jerk instead. Yes he has rose Glimmer, what of it?

[Falcon]

He's a jerk, yes, but he's a handsome jerk. Great artwork!

[Ana]

Love his smirk! Amazing art

[Varethyn]

Thank you both so much

Day 42


Hhhhh-
I flipped Tails again. Stress relief for three random dragons!

4
5
7

RNG insisted it all go to Saisset and Sauvigni for a while, which I certainly don't disagree but it doesn't work like that

I'm also now taking this time to help out Musard as she, once again, got missed. Poor girl needs some love and I promise to give her some focus in the near future. For now, Daedalon has taken Musard to one side for a chat. Musard was a little reluctant but appreciated the moment, losing 10 SP.

[Varethyn]

Day 43



Chapter 8

A playful breeze wafted over the camp. Golden grass danced with the air movement. At the base of the cliff the Great Sea was at peace, the low evening sun flecking the peaks of each ripple as if they were the scales of some giant, silvery serpent as it gradually sank over the horizon.

A fire crackled nearby, accompanied by a soft sizzling. The air was filled with the scent of cooking meat. Embers cast a golden glow on the edges of his companion's scales, silver like the darkening water. Parchment rustled as the page of a book turned.

It was peaceful here on the outskirts of the Windswept Plateau. Lanternlea, quaint as the coastal town was, was too much for him: he preferred the quiet, one day hoping to join a small clan away from the bustle. Or start one, him and his best friend.

If he could pry him from his books.

A smile crossed his snout as turned to see the bookish Imperial, smokey scales laced with fire, white wings shimmering in the fading light. At this the bigger dragon looked up, two pairs of golden eyes meeting overtop of the campfire. He parted his jaws:

“Be careful. The fish is burning.”

He blinked. What? It was meat and the steaks had not long been set in the pan. There's no way they could be-

“The fish is burning!”

“SAISSET!”



The Wildclaw jolted back to his senses, the heavenly scent of roasting meat replaced by the bitter smell of scorched fish that assailed his nostrils. With a distressed squawk Sai whipped the pan away from the fire with one arm, wafting the other over the ruined food to disperse the smoke. At the prep table opposite he deposited the charred mess onto a plate, which he shook in hopes of spotting anything salvageable.

There wasn't.

A deep sigh, both of despair and a longing to return to the daydream that had since flown away on the winds beyond the open windows. Carried over the grass he and his friend used to sit. Over the sea, far, far away. Distant, just like his past. With wings drooping in shame the purple dragon dejectedly picked up the spoiled meal, avoiding eye contact as he took it to a hole in the wall that functioned as a disposal chute. Where it led was beyond him. But by this point he was used to not knowing.

Eyes followed him like laser beams. Or so it felt; when he turned to face his colleagues the other kitchen staff were busying themselves with their own tasks. If anyone had been looking at him they'd quickly turned away. Except one, that is. Returning to his work station Saisset, with difficulty, faced the head chef: a Coatl with dull purple fur but strikingly vibrant orange wings. Their features were unreadable.

They're going to yell at me. Placing the plate on the counter Sai's mind began racing, filling with all the possible outcomes of the conversation about to commence. All the possible negative outcomes, that is. It was always hard for a positive one to surface unless encouraged by an equally positive mood. “I'm sorry, chef.” He apologised shakily, forcing himself to make eye contact with the Fire dragon's scrutinising glare. Or well, he thought it was a scrutinising glare. Maybe he'd imagined it. He deserved it after all. Chest feathers puffed out as the Coatl took a breath, letting it out slowly.

Steadying themselves before shouting at me.

...or they could just be breathing. Stop jumping to conclusions.

He did not stop jumping to conclusions.

“Are you okay, Saisset?” It wasn't said unkindly. At least, he thought it wasn't. Hoped it wasn't. It was hard as, like many Coatl, the head chef had a tendency to hiss, hum and whistle that skewed their voice slightly when speaking Common Draconic, making it hard to tell the intention behind their words. It was because of this that it was hard to tell what gender, if any, they actually were. Everyone called them “they” purely because the pitch didn't lean either way. They never argued either, taking to gender-neutral pronouns as easily as male or female. Maybe they didn't care. It didn't matter.

Despite it all, what was it about those three unassuming words that made a dragon very not okay when they were trying to be okay? Saisset blinked rapidly as tears stung the backs of his eyes, taking his own, shaky breath as he grasped the towel at his belt and wringing it tightly in his bony hands. “I-I'm f-f-fine.” The foggy dragon managed to stabilise himself enough to contain his emotions. “I-I was just... thinking about something.”

“Probably wants to go visit the Master's pet again.” A ripple of snickering went around the room, causing the servant to flush under his pale fur. The chef's expression did not change, though they did snap their whip-like tail in the direction of the hecklers. While the laughter stopped a few waiters with trays of food gossiped as they went out the doors.

To be honest, they weren't wrong. Sai was eager to bring something to miss Daedalon and see if she felt better yet. That and he wanted to just get away. This was far from the peaceful clan he'd imagined starting. And not the role he thought he'd be playing. Caring for miss Daedalon gave him something to look forward to, something to distract himself from the direction he'd been taken in.

How much he'd lost.

Again the image of his friend flashed to mind. He dismissed it as he waited for the head chef's punishment. He was getting punished, right? May as well be. A murky purple paw lifted to grip his slender shoulder. “You've seemed sad and distracted for some time.” The head chef hum-spoke, whistling the s's. “You work too hard. Maybe you'd better take a break.”

It felt both comforting and demeaning at the same time. One the one hand Sai would appreciate some time to himself so that he could visit miss Daedalon and maybe work on personal projects, go for a walk... anything other than be here. On the other, he felt like he was being pushed away. Told to leave after one mistake without a chance to prove himself.

Even though he'd been trying to prove himself for years. Why did it never seem to matter?

Slumping under the Coatl's grip and turning away the Wildclaw mentally shook himself. No, a break would do some good. “Thank you, chef.” He muttered waveringly after a thought, still fiddling with the towel, and gave the Coatl a small smile. The darker purple dragon nodded in understanding and, giving a light pat, motioned for their assistant to leave. Saisset began just that, paused, headed to the wash room connected to the kitchen, where the dishes were cleaned after use. Guided by the sound of splashing the Wildclaw crossed the way to one of the bigger sinks, where a dark pink wavehopper was diligently wiping a dish with its tail while simultaneously sending water everywhere.

He sighed with a smile. For all the mess it was making on the floor the crockery was surprisingly immaculate. It was back in the Sunbeam Ruins that he'd found Rose; after one of his camping trips to the coast with his old friend Sai would take the plates down to the ocean to wipe them over. Saved bugs getting in the basket on the way back to get at the scraps and he could easily wash them properly back home. Possibly not the best idea in hindsight but it worked. At the shore he'd met the curious froglike creature, who began mimicking his actions of rubbing the dish with a cloth by running her broad tail over a flat rock. It was funny but he'd left it. The same thing happened the next outing, with her hopping up to watch them from a distance.

The third time she began actively stealing empty plates, carrying them to the water's edge and rubbing her tail over them. It was a sight for him to find when he caught her taking one and followed her. Rose didn't even flee when she saw him there, instead presenting him the plate she'd finished “cleaning”. They'd been together since, as it wouldn't be long before his foray to the Windswept Plateau to begin his new clan and he couldn't leave her behind after that display.

Of course, while the wavehopper had gotten good act actually cleaning using hot soapy water she had yet to master the art of not slopping the water in the process. Still, she did such a good job that the other staff allowed her to help. Sai was glad for that.

“Alright you.” He grinned at the tailed frog, who greeted him with a pleasant croak. “We're... going on break. Coming?” She tilted her head, glanced at the pile of dishes behind her still needing to be washed. “The others can do those. Don't worry.” Rose cocked her head at the remaining pile, burbled something then hopped out of the sink with a soggy splat, sending droplets flying.

While he rolled his yellow eyes Saisset couldn't stay mad at his familiar, plucking the cloth from her tail to hang up and retrieved a large towel from a ring on the wall. Mopping the small flood up – break or not he couldn't leave the workstation in such a state – the fog-furred dragon beckoned for Rose to jump on his back before heading out properly. Maybe they'll go relax by the river once he'd done visiting miss Daedalon. Ducking his head he then pushed out through the kitchen, stopping long enough to flip some dried golden rainbow trout onto a plate to bring with him.

Thankfully the dining hall was quiet today. What nobles and visitors occupied it were up on the higher level at the back, leaving the main floor and side galleries clear. Just as well; had someone seen a dragon in servants' clothing carrying a dish of food they would have flagged him down to demand why he wasn't serving them. That said, despite the pair that had left earlier it was still a possibility. He beelined for the stairs.

No harassment occurred thereon and any passing figures ignored him or gave him the typical higher-up sneer at being a lowly servant. He ignored them, intent on his destination. A large, smoky shape appeared in the doorway, came plodding casually into the curved hallway. A chill ran down Sai's spine at the Master's presence, ducking behind a pillar to avoid being seen. As Diaemus sauntered past the servant couldn't help but notice the look of contentedness on his face beyond the usual smirk.

It made him feel dirty somehow. Slipping around the back of the marble support to stay hidden Sai took the earliest opportunity to bolt behind the Imperial's back, pausing near the door and glancing back. The carpet ended here and he didn't want to announce himself with his claws clicking on the bare stone of the entry hall. Diaemus kept going, disappeared up the stairs leading to the dining hall's upper floor. The Wildclaw tried not to run as a cold discomfort nipped at his heels. Rose shifted on his back, blissfully quiet during the encounter. He silently thanked her as he began the climb to miss Daedalon's room.

With a small knock he pushed the heavy wooden door inwards, saw the Obelisk curled up in her nest. Sleeping, he realised guiltily. Rose adjusted her position again and he realised she was looking at the water bucket he'd brought up earlier. “Not now.” he whispered, motioning for her to get down and wait by the door. “Swim later.” A weight literally lifted from his shoulders as the wavehopper jumped daintily down, seeming put-out. “Won't be long.” Sai assured her, patting his familiar on the head with his free hand. She burbled happily then did as told.

Giving her a small nod of thanks Saisset crept slowly into the room, hoping his claws didn't bother or wake the slumbering dragon. Carefully he slid the plate of trout onto the shelf next to the bowl of water then returned his attention to her specifically, pursing his lips when he noticed the cloth was gone. Gently he placed a claw on her forehead. She mumbled but did not stir. Still warm but far from the burning from that morning. Good, hopefully she'll sleep the rest of it off.

As he stood he studied her face. Not entirely by choice as it came into view with his position. He frowned: She seemed troubled, her paw over her nose, her tail wrapped tight around her body. A nightmare perhaps? It was common to have strange dreams during a fever after all. Still he couldn't help but feel that something was off somehow.

Best leave her be, he decided. Softly Sai made his way to the bucket, noting that the cloth had been draped over the side with one edge soaking in the water. May as well take this away. Hefting the container he staggered back out of the room, pausing as miss Daedalon murmured again. Nothing more.

Should I stay here? He blinked. Where did that thought come from? No, that would be weird. Let her rest. Besides, he'd promised Rose a trip to the river. The familiar in question eagerly resumed her spot between his wings as he pulled the door closed once more, making his way downstairs.

Reaching the middle of the stairs where the step stretched to meet the doorway he heard a shout from further down. He hated that Diaemus had made miss Daedalon sleep above the dungeons. Peering down the Wildclaw was met with a pair of angry red eyes. Not Plague red, the sclera were wrong. Just like Diaemus'...

“Hey you! Servant boy! Bring that here!” He flinched at the Gaoler's tone but nonetheless did as he was told. Even the one step down felt cold about his ankles. This place was cursed, he swore, and hated going down here. Rose felt it too, backing up along his spine until jumping off entirely. He didn't blame her. “'bout time...” Miss Rochelle all but swiped the bucket from him, so fast that he had to check his hands for claw cuts. “Dunno why I gotta babysit the Fae but whatever.”

“Um,” Saisset began, rubbing his hands over his wrists both nervously and to check for injury. “Th-that w-water is um... used. I-I'll bring some fresh-”

“Don't bother.” He felt so small under her glare. “Traitors don't deserve clean.”

Traitor? Had something happened? What Fae? There was no time to ask, miss Rochelle was already stalking down the corridor with the bucket in her mouth, turned the corner, vanished into darkness. He shivered. Whatever had happened to his dream? No, not here. Not now. This place was gnawing at his mind somehow, unsettling. He swore he heard whispering, drawing from his thoughts, teasing him. Laughing.

A scream. Definitely not imagined. It sounded like the Skydancer that used to lead the guard. Should he...? No. No, he was leaving. He was already partway up as it was, fear driving his legs without his realisation. He wanted to cry.

Rose chirruped worriedly as he cleared the last step, holding his arms and shuddering. “I'm okay.” He lied. She knew he wasn't, but she also knew he couldn't put words to his feelings. Lifting herself on her long back legs the wavehopper nuzzled her master's side comfortingly. He smiled, picked her up to place her on his shoulders again. “I'll be okay. Let's go swimming.” Another burble.

At least the weather was nice.

Next Chapter

[Varethyn]

Guys I'm a big dumb and forgot my familiar saving throw rule for both Saisset and Nalani. I am so sorry, you two!

[Ana]

[Varethyn]

I decided to heal 5 SP to Nalani and Saisset to make up for forgetting their familiars. Not much but it felt wrong to pretend they never hit Death's Door.

Day 44



Apparel stockpile: 2

[Varethyn]

Day 45



Chapter 9

Everything ached. What time was it? What day was it? Daedalon's body felt like lead, heavy and unfamiliar. Not hot any more at least, and her head was clearer. Still a way to go but thankfully the worst of the illness had passed. Still, it left her weak and disorientated. And... different, somehow. Wrong. There was no word to describe the sensation beyond “different”.

There was a warmth. The feeling like someone else was with her. Someone bigger, longer than she was.

Had there been? She couldn't remember. The last day or so was so foggy she could scarcely pick out any details. Saisset had been there, that much stuck with her. And he'd visited again as there had been a plate of food. She also barely remembered getting up to eat before curling up again. Between the increased gravity and her frailness in the moment the Obelisk debated if she should try getting up. If only to look outside, check the time, get some fresh air to clear her head.

With some effort Daedalon rose, sluggishly meandering over to the boarded window. Flicking the latch she clumsily swung the cover inside, the effort taxing her strength and making her shoulder complain all the more. Straight away the cool, evening air caressed her face, ruffling her mane. It missed her, and she it. Part of being a Wind dragon, she supposed, even if she was still learning to hear the whispers.

It was pleasant, as was the light level. It felt good to not be blinded by daylight any more. Being sick sucked. Same with not feeling like a drummer was using her skull for practice at every little sound. Dragons were chattering in the streets – though, she noted, there seemed to be even less around than usual – as wagons and carriages and carts rumbled up the cobblestone roads with varying degrees of squeakiness. Even the most high-pitched noises didn't claw at her brain now.

From this side of the room Daedalon could see the river snaking around the side of the lair up until a little before it met the watermill, blocked from view by the rest of the Keep. She couldn't help but smile at a familiar purple figure sat on one bank, legs in the water as a smaller, pink shape swam about. It faltered, however, when she realised there was someone else with Saisset. They seemed to be talking. But she couldn't make out who it was, much less if she knew them. Vision blurred with the effort so it was decided it wasn't important enough.

As she flumped back into her bed the Obelisk told herself to ask the Wildclaw about it tomorrow. For now, a bit more rest. This time accompanied by a comforting warm breeze.



The next morning saw Daedalon wake well and healthy, though still weakened from the experience. It was a valuable one, she deemed, though not one she'd like to go through again. She decided to greet the day again, plodding to the balcony door to open it and stepped outside. Once again the morning air was fresh and cool. She pricked her ears. Nope, still nothing. Oh well, she was getting used to not hearing anything now. Plus she was still recovering which didn't help.

Then she frowned as she looked up at the cloudless sky. Was it early again? How many times has this happened where she'd woken at dawn instead of early morning? At least, it was too dark to be morning yet. Right? Hefting herself up on the guardrail the Obelisk surveyed the town: Active, as if it were normal. Was she seeing things? Did the fever affect her eyesight somehow? Surely the sky should be bluer, not grey.

A grumbling from her belly tugged her away from the train of thought. Right, she could manage food again. That was good. Casting the heavens another doubtful look Daedalon slipped back on all fours and began the trip to the kitchen. Something at the back of her mind tried to remember something she was going to do today. It escaped her. Breakfast should help.

She didn't get far.

“Hey you!” She froze, fur standing on end at the booming voice from downstairs. It was the first time she'd heard it yet it still gave her a feeling of dread. Almost unable, she managed to turn her head enough to see who was calling to her. “Oh pah, you're not the Wildclaw runt.” The stony Gaoler snorted in distaste, Daedalon recognising the heavy-furred dragon as the one holding Eudoxia previously. Was this Rochelle? ...Wait, Wildclaw runt? First of all, rude. Second of all, did she mean Saisset?

She was going to talk to Saisset. About... something.

“Do you... want me to find him for you?” Daedalon noted how hoarse her voice sounded, hoping the antlered dragon would as well and leave her alone.

If she did, Rochelle ignored it. “Nah, you'll do. Now move it.”

Was she instructing the Obelisk to follow? But... she wasn't allowed down there even if she wanted to. “Di- The Master doesn't want me to go down there. So um, no?”

Rochelle's red eyes narrowed dangerously and she all but snarled, “You do as you're told, pet!”

“But I'm the Master's-”

“Personal attendant, yeah yeah.” The Gaoler tossed her head dramatically, mocking the position. “s'far as I care that means you still serve the Keep as a whole. So learn some respect and get your arse down here! I need help moving something and those layabout Guardians have up and buggered off again.”

Doubt and dread held Daedalon in place like shackles. Should she go? It would mean going against Diaemus' order not to. And it felt wrong to go down there. At the same time she was very curious since she'd never seen the dungeons before. And since the Guardian guards were apparently absent today...

...she was very curious to see what was down there. Maybe if she didn't stay long and didn't mention that she did.

The shackle of doubt let go and she began to slowly walk the stairs she had only traversed once, twice if you counted the return journey as separate, but dread's grip tightened as a chillness that had not been there last time cut straight through her fur. It made her tremble, aided by her general weakened state. What was this feeling?

A sigh from further down. “Look, I get you were ill but I'm not carrying you.” Could she at least stop shouting? The echo of the stairwell made her terse words hammer the inside of her head like mallets. With a low growl Daedalon pushed herself onwards, the shackle firmly in place but merely dragging, slowing her down.

Sure enough the pair of Guardians that had been here last time were gone, Rochelle's bushy tail swishing around into the dark passage they had been watching. The air down here was thick and musty, dust catching in her throat and making her cough as each pawfall sent up a cloud. Why was it so filthy down here when it was clearly in use? It didn't appear to affect the slate-coloured Gaoler either, not so much as a snuffle leaving her. In the little torchlight that reached inside there were obvious footprints and clear patches where Rochelle had made this trek before, her tail fur inadvertently clearing a path.

Why was it so dark here now though? Sconces lined the walls, covered in soot and bearing the long burnt-out remains of old light sources, little more than charcoal. Still the strange dragon kept going, unperturbed by the darkness. Had she memorised the way through? Or, could she really see...? Daedalon shivered, unsettled.

Soon the corridor led into a large chamber; she could feel the openness more than see it in the gloom and the echoes of her footsteps were less concentrated. Up ahead, on the right, was an odd glow that was... hard to describe. Getting closer it seemed to be coming from a black orb made from an unknown and highly unsettling magic. Despite the darkness it gave off some kind of light. How did that make sense? It wasn't black but it wasn't... really any colour. Yet some aura gave vision in this spot. Bars glinted in the strange darklight. Daedalon couldn't help but investigate, poking her snout up to the bars to study the orb.

Then stepped back, aghast: there was a dragon in there! Squinting the curious Obelisk approached the bars once more, peering at the curled shape suspended inside. It was hard to pick out the colour but that didn't matter, as the figure was wearing some familiar clothing. A dress of sorts. A fur-lined cloak. “Eudoxia...?” She couldn't help asking aloud, her voice sounding loud in the silence. That was the other thing that bothered the blue dragon – there were no other sounds beyond the footsteps. That quickly changed as a startled yelp escaped her, causing her to back-pedal again and kicking a wooden bucket full of water.

The Fae was staring at her through the impossible magic film. Alive. Daedalon found herself equal parts creeped out and relieved by this. Why was the advisor down here? Trapped like this?

“Quit playing with the traitor!” Roared Rochelle from the other side of the room. At least, it was opposite where Daedalon was.

Traitor... What exactly had happened? Images of that day flitted through her mind: Rochelle squeezing Eudoxia with far too much enthusiasm, the advisor's claims, Diaemus' response. Eggs and hatchlings going missing. She'd blamed him. Why? The Fae held her gaze through the orb prison. Then her jaw moved as the Obelisk began to turn. Daedalon squinted, trying to make out the movement of the tiny, restrained dragon. Was she... speaking? Watch her lips...

Lee... Swowa... ee... wee... ee... you? Well that didn't make sense, but between their size difference, the odd, dim glow and Daedalon's inability to lip-read the message was lost on her. Regardless, she took it to heart, pausing only long enough to notice the faint outline of a leaf poking through the wall behind the sphere. Flashing Eudoxia a final, confused yet courteous nod she picked her way carefully to where it sounded like Rochelle was waiting.

“Neat huh? That magic?” The change in the Gaoler's demeanour took Daedalon by surprise, though it wasn't a shock that she'd be gloating given her performance a few days prior. “Made it m'self. We Gaolers are masters of keeping things locked up.” The sickening amount of pride in her gruff voice made the Obelisk want to slap her.

She almost did by accident. Stumbling around in the darkness the curly-maned dragon almost walked straight into Rochelle, who snarled and backed up. “You blithering idiot! You godsdamned blind?!”

“Yes!” It wasn't in Daedalon's nature to snap but all of the tension of the last while had finally built into a mini Crescendo. Having to deal with this insufferable dragon was the last straw. Apparently she hadn't expected that response, her faded features contorting in surprise.

“You... are?”

“Well I can't see without any light!”

Rochelle blinked a few times as if it wasn't common knowledge that dragons not from Shadow flight couldn't see in the dark. “...oh.” She said simply at length. “Guess I'm so used to it that I didn't think about anyone else. That would explain why the runt was so clumsy.”

“Saisset.”

“What?”

“His name is Saisset.”

“Name shname let's get on with this.”

Daedalon huffed, following the Gaoler as she turned down a passage behind what she thought had been the far wall. As it turned out there was a small room hidden behind said wall, which had been wide enough that it, too, might have dungeon cells in it. So either way she'd been wrong. Rochelle grunted with effort, something heavy grinding over the flagstone. A foul stench wafted up from below, making her gag. A mixture of stagnant water, rot and decaying plants.

“Wait here.”

The fluffy shape vanished, leaving Daedalon alone in the dark. The cold dark. The unnaturally, indescribably terrifying dark. And the smell. What was down there? Rochelle said to wait, did that mean she had to go down as well? How long had they even been down here now? Saisset was probably worried about her not showing up again. How would he react to she wasn't in her room? As the Obelisk fought to not throw up something flickered below, a circular hole by her paws illuminated by fire as the Gaoler returned with a lit torch. Finally, she could see!

“Alright you big baby, get down here.” Yep, there it was. Once again the shackle of dread held her back. If it had felt wrong before, it was even more so down there. “Move it!”

“No! I don't like this!” It was about time she stood up for herself. She was not going down there.

“I don't care.”

Daedalon didn't budge, glancing back a few times as she considered finding the way back the way they'd come in. There was an echoing grunt behind her, a scrabbling sound, suddenly the room was lit up as Rochelle clawed her way back up. But... it had been so far down. And Gaoler's can't fly. So how did she-

No time to react. With an unnatural strength the slate-coloured dragon took hold of Daedalon's thick mane, throwing her towards the hole. Almost toppling in the Obelisk gripped the edge tightly to save herself from falling, only to be shoved from behind. She screamed, only barely remembering to flare her wings before colliding with the ground.

Which was slick and slippery. She gasped in disgust. Rochelle landed neatly behind her, started walking down the rancid tunnel. Didn't even look back, expecting Daedalon to follow. With the warm glow of fire dimming it became difficult to make out where the gap they'd falling in through was. There was little use trying to fly out, and even if she did she'd still need to work out how to get back out to the stairs.

That and she really wasn't strong enough to launch herself that high yet.

Slumping in defeat the Obelisk fell into step behind the Gaoler as the dark-furred dragon led them further into the stench. Each step they took the fouler it seemed to get. Where were they? Had this always been beneath the Keep? She'd heard rumours of tunnels and chambers deep in the hill, was this one of them? Dread's shackle had become less cold steel and more a ring of frost that was steadily growing up her legs, her back. She shivered again, more violently this time.

Rats scurried about, frightened and blinded by the sudden appearance of fire. Hundred of them, it felt, flooded over the lip of the tunnel and into cracks and holes in a square room. Out of one tunnel and into another for the dragons as Rochelle kept a steady, unbothered gait, forcing Daedalon to trot a few times to keep up in her weakened state.

“How far are we going?” She finally asked, instantly regretting it as the sewer smells entered her mouth, choking her and lining her tongue with filth.

Ignoring the sputtering Rochelle merely replied, “Not much further.”

“What is this place?” Daedalon had learned the first time, but the question needed to be asked. Also, how was the other dragon so unaffected by all this?

“What do you think?”

Daedalon didn't ask anything else. Rochelle wasn't about to give a straight answer and it wasn't worth clogging her lungs with whatever was in the fetid air. A few more minutes of slurping, slapping footsteps and finally the pair emerged into another chamber, with more tunnel openings above and below their exit. Once again they hopped down, the light and movement disturbing countless rats and bats and other creatures living down here. They stood on a thin walkway, gaps yawning on either side. Water flowed below. She did not want to think about what kind. Liquid dribbled from the other, grated tunnels into the whatever-it-was.

A corner. They turned. Followed the walkway into another, smaller chamber separated by a sort of gate. Maybe this place hadn't always been a sewer. Or this part had been built in recently. It felt different from everything else so far. A round room, a table sat in the middle with a cloth draped over it. The shape of the cloth suggested something had been covered, though it was difficult to tell what. A thick, black liquid dripped off the closest edge, pooling on the stone floor. Through a hole, Daedalon realised, in a torn and faded carpet that lay in a cross-shape leading to the centre. To the table. The walls were indented, shaped as shelves for large objects, now filled with containers of some sort and tools she could not put a name to. Objects wrapped in linen. Candles. Bottle. Jars. Vials and beakers. Each and every one of them had the same viscous liquid as what was dripping off the table.

“This,” Rochelle jutted a digit with a too-long talon at the thing under the cloth, “is what we need to move. I need you to tie it up while I hold it. Much easier with a second set of claws.” Again ice spiked up her back as the Gaoler circled the room, lighting a few wall sconces as she went.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. The word, the feeling beat in time with her quickening pulse. A set of stairs spiralling up, outside the room caught the Obelisk's eye as Rochelle lit the torch nearby, a second one mirroring it on the other side. She thought about bolting, getting away from this wretched place. The smell was at its worst now, making it hard to breathe. She stood firm, however, until the Gaoler returned.

It was hard to tell if it was done on purpose or not.

As the other dragon passed the table she stepped on a corner of cloth that had been dangling near the floor, claws catching, pulled it off.

The shape was a Skydancer, their throat all the way down to the tail missing, revealing the skeleton inside. No organs, only the same murky blackness. Blacker than black. Oozing. Devouring.

Empty eyesockets in an intact but matted face, frozen in pain. More fluid ate through the underside of the jaw like acid.

Daedalon's legs buckled at the sight, taking in the leaden plumage, the purple wings. The armour.

“Rey...”

And then it went dark.

Next Chapter

[Ana]

Ohh poor Reynauld!

[Falcon]

Geez, poor Rey and poor Daedalon at finally discovering what happened to him.

[Varethyn]

It took me long enough to finally address it, hahhhhh. Hope it wasn't too distressing!

Day 46


Flipped Heads. It was only a matter of time...



Look who recovered from Death's Door just in time to be rolled for a Death Streak. Yaaaaa- screw you Pinkerton.

Sadly Sauvigni is high enough level that I had to go straight back to Scorched Forest. Of course, the other options would have been worse but still, this was harrowing. Thankfully all three survived thanks to Nala being a healer and my refusal to use a potion limit They must have used at least 5 each of some combination of lesser and regular healing potions alongside Nala healing everyone. That said, both Vee and Nala got KO'd, and Nala's familiar failed to save xir from entering Death's Door. So while it was a success overall, it wasn't without consequence.

Nalani is now lv5 and Saisset lv6.