Chapter 3-7 - An Audience with Nevarrym
The party spent the night in Morlyn's shack, conversing comfortably with the blind old Dragonborn as he fed them a pleasantly spicy broth and shared a hidden stash of Firewater Whiskey. Eventually they all fell asleep on piles of cushions in the shack's main room. When she woke in the morning, Ryoko watched Morlyn grab his staff and drape himself in a cloak. He caught her eye,
"I'll be back shortly. Make yourselves at home. I'm going to find Nevarrym"
The rest of the group woke up gradually. Groggily they sat around the table, eating breakfast and nursing hangovers. After around an hour, the door to the shack swung open and Morlyn swept in,
"Get your things together. I've seen to it that Nevarrym will speak with you now."
Morlyn led the group south through the jungle, along well trodden winding paths through the trees. After a while, the jungle opened onto a dusty brown clay beach, scattered with tufts of wiry grey foliage. A tall wooden palisade faced the path, roughly sixty foot square and two storeys tall. Wooden poles thrust upwards at regular intervals, and strung between them hung a massive leather canopy. A sturdy wooden walkway climbed off the beach up to an entrance in the palisade roughly four feet above the ground. On either side of the imposing structure, elevated wooden walkways led out from other openings in the wooden wall. To the right, the path led to a hexagonal wooden platform, mounted on thick wooden stilts and covered with a smaller leather canopy. On the platform sat a group of dragonborn clustered around a central fire; and around the edges stood an assortment of wooden racks adorned with various animal carcasses, hanging out to cure. To the left, the path led to an unassuming shack mounted on wooden stilts. The walls of the shack were woven from flexible tree branches, packed with dried reed fronds; and the roof was thatched of interlaced leaves mounted on an overhanging wooden structure. Garlands of glittering glass orbs were strung beneath the eaves of the roof, lending the shack a sense of whimsy.
The party followed Morlyn up the ramp into the wooden palisade. Inside they found an large communal space, bounded on all sides by three staggered rows of wooden benches, built into the structure like stadium seating. There must have been enough seating here to accommodate at least a hundred people. The leather canopy overhead obscured much of the sunlight, but the inside was well lit by many green glass orbs filled with tiny dancing balls of light. In each of the four walls, further doorways led out, on either side to the walkways the group had already observed, and in front to another walkway to a wooden longhouse built on stilts. Morlyn ushered the group through the door to the left and over to shack. He rapped on the wooden door with the tip of his staff, the sharp sound stood out in contrast to the quiet stillness of the jungle.
Something shuffled inside the shack, and the door was answered by a tall, broad shouldered copper skinned Iskathi. He looked down at Morlyn with piercing golden eyes,
"Hello again Morlyn." Nevarrym said with a sarcastic drawl, "Won't you please come in"
He stepped back as the blind Dragonborn swept past him. The tall Iskathi smiled affectionately as he gestured for the group to enter. Inside, the shack is surprisingly large. A couple of inner walls closed off chambers at the back, but the main room was spacious and well furnished. To the far right, against the wall stood a stone hearth adorned with a wide clay pot hanging off a rail. In the middle of the room stood a large, round table made of polished jade, low to the floor and surrounded by deep reed mats covered in colourful silks and patterned leather. On the table sat a number of jade cups and a deep glass jug filled with a light golden liquid, and a small earthen bowl. Morlyn had already seated himself at the table. Nevarrym motioned to the party to join him, and he sat down on the mat on the far side,
"Firewater?" he offered, picking up the jug and pouring some into a goblet. Ryoko and Ramas both nodded eagerly. The rest of the group winced at the suggestion.
Nevarrym spotted Badger sitting beside Miaug, and smiled at the little fox. He held out one huge clawed hand, and allowed Badger to sniff it. Once the fox was satisfied, Nevarrym picked a choice chunk of meat out of the earthen bowl and held it out to him. Badger eagerly snatched it from the Iskathi's hand and curled up contentedly on the floor, gnawing happily. Nevarrym reached over and gently scratched the fox between the ears as he looked up at the party,
"So, what is so important Ryoko, that Morlyn decided to interrupt my monthly fishing trip to arrange this audience?"
Ryoko explained that Aetilius had been having recurring dreams of a massive black plain, with a smoking mountain ahead. The group were all sure that these dreams were a message from Aetilius's new God. Nevarrym's eyebrow shot up at the mention of new gods, but he kept quiet and listened to the tale. Ryoko explained that, from Aetilius's description it sounded like the tales Morlyn used to tell her of the Sea of Glass. So they had decided to travel home and investigate. Once Ryoko had finished, Nevarrym spoke,
"So you believe you are being drawn to the place in your vision? That certainly does sound like the Sea of Glass. According to legends, that was once a great sand desert. At the end of the Primordial War our ancestors (the metallic dragons) fought against the demonic forces. They say that so much dragonfire was spent that day that it turned the whole desert to glass. As for the mountain in your dreams, that can only be the Dragonspire. There is a hollowed out volcano located somewhere to the south of the Sea of Glass. According to the Iskathi culture, it is the location of the Congress of Dragons. When the Iskathi compete their pilgrimage, they travel to the Dragonspire and present themselves to the Congress for judgement. I was only a child when we left Iskaleth, so I never made the journey. I do not know the Dragonspire's location. I can only suggest travelling to Iskaleth and begging the Iskathi for aid."
"So how do we get to Iskaleth?" Aetilius asked, eagerly,
"Don't be so hasty boy. I remember leaving Iskaleth and crossing the desert. It is an unforgiving place. Nothing grows there, and very little survives. The glass of the desert doesn't hold water, so there is nothing to drink. By the time we made it North to the Dragonstooth Mountains, half of us had perished, and the rest were near death."
Nevarrym left his words hanging for a moment, then sighed,
"If you are intent on reaching Iskaleth, I would be wary. The journey is difficult, and if you were uncertain at all in your navigation, you would certainly die in the desert. And at the end, I cannot guarantee you would receive a warm welcome. The Iskathi are noble, so they are unlikely to leave you to die in the desert, but I cannot be certain. They are not known to be welcoming to outsiders. I would suggest travelling south to speak with Oarmas of the Djazhck tribe. They might know of a better route to reach Iskaleth."
Badger sidled up to Nevarrym and placed his head in his lap. The big Iskathi reached down and absently scratched the little fox between the ears, a little smile tugging at his mouth,
"If you're heading south to Djazhck, speak to Qekin at the docks, I'm sure he would be willing to ferry you down the Drach, save you a couple of days walk."
Nevarrym reached for a dark green jade bottle, and poured the dark amber liquid into a round of glasses. He passed the whiskey to each of his guests,
"Let's share a drink. Good luck in your journey. And Morlyn... I hope for your sake, the fish are still biting"
Next: Chapter 3-8 - Downriver
Previous: Chapter 3-6 - Morlyn
"I'll be back shortly. Make yourselves at home. I'm going to find Nevarrym"
The rest of the group woke up gradually. Groggily they sat around the table, eating breakfast and nursing hangovers. After around an hour, the door to the shack swung open and Morlyn swept in,
"Get your things together. I've seen to it that Nevarrym will speak with you now."
Morlyn led the group south through the jungle, along well trodden winding paths through the trees. After a while, the jungle opened onto a dusty brown clay beach, scattered with tufts of wiry grey foliage. A tall wooden palisade faced the path, roughly sixty foot square and two storeys tall. Wooden poles thrust upwards at regular intervals, and strung between them hung a massive leather canopy. A sturdy wooden walkway climbed off the beach up to an entrance in the palisade roughly four feet above the ground. On either side of the imposing structure, elevated wooden walkways led out from other openings in the wooden wall. To the right, the path led to a hexagonal wooden platform, mounted on thick wooden stilts and covered with a smaller leather canopy. On the platform sat a group of dragonborn clustered around a central fire; and around the edges stood an assortment of wooden racks adorned with various animal carcasses, hanging out to cure. To the left, the path led to an unassuming shack mounted on wooden stilts. The walls of the shack were woven from flexible tree branches, packed with dried reed fronds; and the roof was thatched of interlaced leaves mounted on an overhanging wooden structure. Garlands of glittering glass orbs were strung beneath the eaves of the roof, lending the shack a sense of whimsy.
The party followed Morlyn up the ramp into the wooden palisade. Inside they found an large communal space, bounded on all sides by three staggered rows of wooden benches, built into the structure like stadium seating. There must have been enough seating here to accommodate at least a hundred people. The leather canopy overhead obscured much of the sunlight, but the inside was well lit by many green glass orbs filled with tiny dancing balls of light. In each of the four walls, further doorways led out, on either side to the walkways the group had already observed, and in front to another walkway to a wooden longhouse built on stilts. Morlyn ushered the group through the door to the left and over to shack. He rapped on the wooden door with the tip of his staff, the sharp sound stood out in contrast to the quiet stillness of the jungle.
Something shuffled inside the shack, and the door was answered by a tall, broad shouldered copper skinned Iskathi. He looked down at Morlyn with piercing golden eyes,
"Hello again Morlyn." Nevarrym said with a sarcastic drawl, "Won't you please come in"
He stepped back as the blind Dragonborn swept past him. The tall Iskathi smiled affectionately as he gestured for the group to enter. Inside, the shack is surprisingly large. A couple of inner walls closed off chambers at the back, but the main room was spacious and well furnished. To the far right, against the wall stood a stone hearth adorned with a wide clay pot hanging off a rail. In the middle of the room stood a large, round table made of polished jade, low to the floor and surrounded by deep reed mats covered in colourful silks and patterned leather. On the table sat a number of jade cups and a deep glass jug filled with a light golden liquid, and a small earthen bowl. Morlyn had already seated himself at the table. Nevarrym motioned to the party to join him, and he sat down on the mat on the far side,
"Firewater?" he offered, picking up the jug and pouring some into a goblet. Ryoko and Ramas both nodded eagerly. The rest of the group winced at the suggestion.
Nevarrym spotted Badger sitting beside Miaug, and smiled at the little fox. He held out one huge clawed hand, and allowed Badger to sniff it. Once the fox was satisfied, Nevarrym picked a choice chunk of meat out of the earthen bowl and held it out to him. Badger eagerly snatched it from the Iskathi's hand and curled up contentedly on the floor, gnawing happily. Nevarrym reached over and gently scratched the fox between the ears as he looked up at the party,
"So, what is so important Ryoko, that Morlyn decided to interrupt my monthly fishing trip to arrange this audience?"
Ryoko explained that Aetilius had been having recurring dreams of a massive black plain, with a smoking mountain ahead. The group were all sure that these dreams were a message from Aetilius's new God. Nevarrym's eyebrow shot up at the mention of new gods, but he kept quiet and listened to the tale. Ryoko explained that, from Aetilius's description it sounded like the tales Morlyn used to tell her of the Sea of Glass. So they had decided to travel home and investigate. Once Ryoko had finished, Nevarrym spoke,
"So you believe you are being drawn to the place in your vision? That certainly does sound like the Sea of Glass. According to legends, that was once a great sand desert. At the end of the Primordial War our ancestors (the metallic dragons) fought against the demonic forces. They say that so much dragonfire was spent that day that it turned the whole desert to glass. As for the mountain in your dreams, that can only be the Dragonspire. There is a hollowed out volcano located somewhere to the south of the Sea of Glass. According to the Iskathi culture, it is the location of the Congress of Dragons. When the Iskathi compete their pilgrimage, they travel to the Dragonspire and present themselves to the Congress for judgement. I was only a child when we left Iskaleth, so I never made the journey. I do not know the Dragonspire's location. I can only suggest travelling to Iskaleth and begging the Iskathi for aid."
"So how do we get to Iskaleth?" Aetilius asked, eagerly,
"Don't be so hasty boy. I remember leaving Iskaleth and crossing the desert. It is an unforgiving place. Nothing grows there, and very little survives. The glass of the desert doesn't hold water, so there is nothing to drink. By the time we made it North to the Dragonstooth Mountains, half of us had perished, and the rest were near death."
Nevarrym left his words hanging for a moment, then sighed,
"If you are intent on reaching Iskaleth, I would be wary. The journey is difficult, and if you were uncertain at all in your navigation, you would certainly die in the desert. And at the end, I cannot guarantee you would receive a warm welcome. The Iskathi are noble, so they are unlikely to leave you to die in the desert, but I cannot be certain. They are not known to be welcoming to outsiders. I would suggest travelling south to speak with Oarmas of the Djazhck tribe. They might know of a better route to reach Iskaleth."
Badger sidled up to Nevarrym and placed his head in his lap. The big Iskathi reached down and absently scratched the little fox between the ears, a little smile tugging at his mouth,
"If you're heading south to Djazhck, speak to Qekin at the docks, I'm sure he would be willing to ferry you down the Drach, save you a couple of days walk."
Nevarrym reached for a dark green jade bottle, and poured the dark amber liquid into a round of glasses. He passed the whiskey to each of his guests,
"Let's share a drink. Good luck in your journey. And Morlyn... I hope for your sake, the fish are still biting"
Next: Chapter 3-8 - Downriver
Previous: Chapter 3-6 - Morlyn
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