Sra Makes Light for the Ghostlands!

Sra yawns as she raises and unshutters the window of Maya’s bedroom. She leans against the windowsill for a few moments as she lets the sun wash over her. Not that she was particularly lacking with warmth; even without a fire burning the previous night, the Arodus weather and Maya worked well enough in tandem to keep cold-blooded Sra nice and toasty. But the sun? The sun is nice. Sra basks there for a few good minutes.
 Slowly, Sra starts to move again, stepping back and beginning a couple of stretches. After a good few pops, cracks, and audible flexing, Sra is fully awake. She puts her… things away, then gets dressed. She looks down at Maya, still in her bed.

“Hey. Where is my cake?”

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

Sra carefully opens the door to The Rilovo Works, opening it very slightly… before kicking it the rest of the way open! Woocha! Despite this strange entry, Akkonaa, Miphau, Pirr, and their most trusted employees cheer out in unison!

“Surprise!”

Sra cheers in reply, setting the piggybacking Maya that she kidnapped down and pointing her to the kitchen, where the snacks she was promised were situated. The pieces now all in place, the hatching day party commences!

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

The party winds down, more or less. Pirr, despite usually being a little more standoffish, is getting along great with the other hatchlings that were brought along for the party. Akkonaa is impressing everyone with his mastery over rats, even going so far as to bring out their obstacle course, much to the delight of the many guests. Sra mingles with Karmak and Miphau, occasionally sipping some Tears to Wine wine. The day grows late, but most of the people attending the party either live within the Works or else are staying the night. After many dishes of food are served, a substantial cake is produced, and there is much rejoicing.

After many calories are consumed, Sra heeds a ringing of the doorbell. A worried-looking Calligraphy Wyrm dangles from the thin chain as Sra opens the door. It detaches from the chain and flourishes to produce a letter, three-fourths its size, sealed with the crest of Apsu’s church. Sra takes the latter, and the tiny dragon flits away as Sra closes the door and returns to the party. Knowing better than to leave these sorts of messages on the backburner, Sra opens the letter and gives it a read. To her relief, the letter demands her presence tomorrow, so the party can continue unabated for the remainder of tonight. Phew.

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

Sra heads through the streets of Babel, plodding the familiar path to the small temple where she makes her charitable donations and such. After some deliberation, it was determined that, since Akkonaa is technically the same rank within Apsu’s clergy as Sra, that he may as well accompany her on whatever consultation this summons entailed. And so, Sra plods at her husband’s speed. She hates walking. Walking is awful. So much time wasted.

Thank Heaven, the couple eventually arrive at the church. Sra cuts ahead of Akkonaa and opens the door for him. He enters, and Sra follows after, the wide and heavy door closing behind her. The interior of the church is bare before the altar, as services are held and received standing, provided parishioners are capable of standing. Simple but well-made windows of warm and vibrant colors adorn the well-worked stone walls, which themselves bear murals depicting scenes of Draconic heroes triumphing over Evil, lesser creatures being protected from those who would take advantage of them, and a few choice showcases of Magnaminty present within the Draconic Apsu.

Gorleam, Apsu’s Bishop of Babel, stands behind the altar. Half Gold Dragon, Gorleam had a great distance to him, almost to the extent that he seemed addled or absent to those that he chose to speak to. Sra approaches the pulpit while Akkonaa lingers beside the main entrance. As Sra kneels before Gorleam, the Bishop speaks in his wheezy, long-winded manner!
 “Sir Sra, Sir Akkonaa. Well that you came. Can you feel it?”

There is silence for a few moments before Sra realizes that she was expected to answer.

“No, I do not feel it.”

Gorleam frowns as his eyes focus, for once, on something nearby. He looks down the church’s steps to Sra.

“There are undead afoot. Undead erstwhile absent from our world have arrived within the Ghostlands. As with most things not native to that realm, the undead there have taken umbrage to these interlopers, and so these undead are preoccupied with one another for the time being. There is no guarantee that this steady state shall persist, and it is unlikely that the recently introduced Undead will feel so restricted in their activity, speaking in geographical terms. Indeed, it is perfectly possible that there are those amongst this new horde that may be capable of extradimensional travel, were it not for the Forbiddence effect in place over the Ghostlands.”

Sra is happy to finally get some direction from her church. Usually she takes all these odd jobs, together with odd people. But this is very black and white; undead are posing a grievous threat to life on the continent. Something to do, no need to worry over how it should be done. Gorleam continues.

“This is a great undertaking, but not ours alone. Many others have taken notice of this matter and are making to throw their lots in with ours. So, as you prepare for this, know that you are not alone, neither in preparation, nor whensoever your efforts come to fruition. Of course, this means that there is an opportunity for Apsu’s faithful to show their mettle to the other heroes of the realm. I shall call for you when the time is at hand.”

With this, Gorleam is distant once more. Sra bows her head, then stands. She rejoins Akkonaa and departs with him. As the door of the church closes behind them, Sra asks,

“Husband? What is ‘Erstwhile’?”

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

Sra ‘hovers’ over the shipwreck. Apparently a wicked sea serpent sunk it some time ago, and the church thought its cargo too valuable to be left lying on the sea floor while there was a diver about. Sra goes about, going through the wreck and checking off the items that she finds from the list she was made to memorize before heading down. A good few are missing, but she’s not quite expected to recover each and every last bauble the church is missing.

Some time later, Sra is hoisting herself and a bundle of salvaged goods onto the church’s seacraft. A few squires and acolytes collect the recovered supplies and begin pouring over them. Sra gives the helmsman a thumbs-up, and the craft is away once more, off to the next wreck location. Sra yawns. This isn’t exactly what she had in mind when she volunteered to aid in the efforts against the encroaching undead menace. In fact, this isn’t really much different from what she would normally be doing. She guesses that just means that she doesn’t need to bother learning anything new, which is nice. She wonders just how many ships were lost at sea because of these sea serpents. Apparently not all of the lost treasures were Apsu’s, but Sra was told that that was something that would be sorted out after the threat of the undead tower had passed.

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

Sra tries to keep still, as best she can. Akkonaa chisels the finishing touches of a tattoo into Sra’s scales. Sra never realizes that she was so ticklish. With all the discipline of her Paladin training, she manages to endure the entire body-art application. Akkonaa sets his chisels and inks aside, standing up to look Sra over as she lies on her low cot. Silver and green light shines from the ink.

“So, will the ink wash off if I get wet?”

“No, at least not once it sets. Just try not to flex too hard, you might squeeze the ink out.”

“Was that a joke?”

“Uh… I honestly don’t know. It should be fine, it’s a magical tattoo, after all.”

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

Sra secures her ner lantern onto her belt, hoping it won’t get in the way of her fighting style, which would best be described as mid-air breakdancing. Pirr squawks. This is much too bright. Sra seems to agree. She is currently swathed in three layers of light: the lantern’s Daylight, her tattoo’s radiance, and her lucent form’s warmth. She is a bit uncertain if this is wise. Sure, she can outrun any threat she might encounter within the Ghostlands, but to give herself away like this? Perhaps if she only flew during the day and hid well enough at night… Then again, considering her conditioning, she will likely be able to traverse the entire island over the course of a single day. This will be a learning experience.

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

Miphau gingerly fits the last of her herbal concoctions into the case she had prepared for Sra. Sra enters right as Miphau closes the case, causing the lass to flick her tail feathers at Sra in greetings. Sra, as usual, mistakes this as a flirt, and signs to Miphau to keep her mind out of the gutter, as there are grievously pressing matters at hand. Miphau rolls her eyes and offers Sra the case of concoctions, which Sra graciously accepts. She takes a deep breath. She is nearing the completion of packing for the trip. Miphau looks up at Sra with a worried look. Sra senses her apprehension and kneels down, at which point Miphau steps forward and does what she can to put her arms around the hunky Paladin. Sra gives the bird’s shoulder a little bite, at which point she informs her that she is now a were-lizard. Miphau huffs and rolls her eyes.

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

As part of Sra’s increasingly absurd training, she finds herself standing vertically on her hands while her legs lift a large boulder, upon which Akkonaa is perched. Of course, the boulder is several times the weight of the bird smith thereupon, but Sra told him he absolutely needed to be up there. Miphau and Pirr watch with equal parts interest and confusion from the safety of the garden, but at this point are fairly inoculated against Sra’s training antics. Sra begins her final rep of vertical push-ups, and soon enough Akkonaa is happily returned to the ground.

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

Sra winces one final time as Akkonaa finishes fitting her wedding room to her tail-piercing. She knew that she should have had this done back when she was becoming a paladin, but for whatever reason piercings always made her squeamish. She tries to think of how much she cherished the ring when Akkonaa proposed to her. She was not sure of the significance of the ring being Akkonaa’s grandmother’s wedding band, but it sounded like something the bird was proud of, so it is probably a good thing. The silver ring saw little use previously, unfortunately, as Sra would never run the risk of damaging it by wearing it into a fight. But a piercing, near the base of her tail, hard to imagine something happening to it at that point. Akkonaa gives her a pat, and she realizes that the ring is affixed. Sra lets out a sigh of relief.

“Wait. Will you need to take it off when it is time to upgrade it?”

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

“Hear the mellow wedding bells, golden bells…!”
 “... I don’t know this song.”
 Akkonaa indicates towards his new vest, particularly to the three bells affixed to its chest-strap. He briefly swells with Mythic power as he rings all three, and thus Sra is granted a long-duration Death Ward!

“I feel better. What is it?”

“A Death Warden’s Bandolier. It protects you from Death and Negative Energy.”

“Ah.”

“... Undead use those.”

“Oh! I see, that makes sense.”

\* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \* \*

Sra stands at the Rilovo Work’s main foyer, waiting for her family to send her off. She shifts in the strap of her new chest wrap, and wriggles her tail a little to make sure her lantern and tail ring are all secure. Akkonaa enters the room with a big bag, Miphau and an accompanying Pirr following in tow. There are a few moments of silence, the two lovebirds not wanting to say goodbye and Sra, as per usual, not really knowing what to say. But she does know what to do. She takes Akkonaa’s packed lunches and stows them away, then sinks to a knee to hold her arms out. Akkonaa and Miphau plunk into her, and a peaceful moment is shared between the group.

“If I don’t come back, Karmak can fill in for me.”

“Sra, if you are both going, I don’t think you’re the one that I would be worried over.”