Part 3: A reckoning rides from the west

Ember allows Katrin to hold him tightly, looking back at Ascian with a fierce glow of loyalty and understanding in his grey eyes. As his look was saying, Your friends are my friends, and I'll be there for them just like I'm there for you.  A twig snaps in the dark foliage at the edge of the clearing, interrupting the highly charged gathering.

Akiran body tenses, instinctually raising his shield up at the sudden intrusion. Angling his blade toward the prisoner as he frantically searches for the source of the noise.

When the fight finished, Lilli joined the others near their captives, listening quietly to the debate as to their fate. While she hated to see these people die, she also recognized that they had made their choice and allowing them to live to report back what had happened here placed all the Fireblades  at risk. Before she could speak up, a noise distracted her and like Akiran, she turns towards the noise!

Asian darts back into the darkness of the lake shore and prowls around to the edge of the clearing. Moving silently through the foliage, he comes up behind a figure crouched behind a thicket, peering through at the scene in the clearing. Clearly a dragonborn, with blue scales and a wiry frame, the figure doesn't notice Ascian's approach.

Ascian creeps behind the voyeur to level an arrow at the back of the dragonborn's head, saying quietly, "Move."

The dragonborn stiffens. Trembling hands raise carefully above scaly head. "I'm not...I'm not here to hurt anyone." The voice was young. Male, probably, by Ascian's estimation. There's a sword belted at his waist, but he makes no moves toward it.

Ascian's hands stay poised, and the word comes again as he gestures with the tip of his strung arrow toward the clearing ahead of them. "Move."

The dragonborn steps forward, muscles tense, as if expecting the shot from Ascian's bow at any moment. When it doesn't come, he takes another tentative step forward, then another.  Those gathered can see a blue dragonborn, young and wiry and looking very scared, step into the clearing with Ascian following behind, bow pointed at the newcomer's throat. Osrik nods to the dragonborn. "The whole gang's here now," he says.

Renley’s eyes shift from Osrik to the dragonborn to the nocked arrow and finally to Ascian, towards whom he takes a few slow steps towards with his hands raised. “Perhaps we can lowuh that there bow a bit, Ah don’t think he’ll be any bothuh,”  he turns to the the dragonborn, “will yuh, jeune monsieur? ” ”That said…”  he raises the wide brim of his hat up from over his golden eyes and smiles genially down to the young man, “Jus’ t’check, what does  bring yuh out here?”

Thrandimir remains still, but his eyes dart about, taking in the prisoner, Akiran, Katrin, Ash and now this new dragonborn. "On your feet, Kat," he murmurs, not moving away from the prisoner. "We don't have time to hang around."

No. No I don't want to. Her fingers curl more tightly into the wolf's thick fur. It's slightly damp where her face is buried, and she dimly realizes that she'd been crying. Slowly, reluctantly, she loosens her grip on Ember, and when she sits up, a wave of exhaustion washes over her. She reaches out a hand, and Os helps her to her feet. It's only then that she notices the young dragonborn stepping out from the trees, Ash not far behind. She leans wearily on her brother, hurriedly wiping what remains of tears from her eyes.

"I'm just here to get the supplies," the young dragonborn says. "We heard shouting and the explosions, and they sent me ahead to scout."

A conflicting mix of shame & certainty washes over Akiran as Ash escorts the young dragonborn into view. Wondering if the boy could tell just by sight alone that he was an exile, if already he was judging Akiran and finding him lacking.  It was bad enough the Heartland soldiers saw the Fireblades, but exiled or not he couldn't let the Clans take the fall for his fuck up.  His blade still at the neck of the prisoner he makes his choice, with a quick glance to the dragonborn he says at first in draconic  "Do not worry my friend. We will get your people the supplies." Looking to Lilli & O'srik, he says in common  "Why don't ya take our friend and see what direction his people are in. Don't go ta far though." Akiran then locks eyes with Thrand, his eyes cold and determined as he slowly nods his head.  The warriors of Clan Sovine believed that killing unarmed prisoners was an act of grave dishonor. His mind briefly debating which they thought most dishonorable, killing the prisoners or surrendering in the first place. Back in his homelands for less than an hour and already he found a way to further tarnish his reputation.

"O...okay," the young dragonborn stammers. "They're not far." He tentatively points back the way he had come, still wary of Ascian. "They're that way."

Thrandimir nods back to Akiran and prods the prisoner with Flinn's pistol "Come on, on your feet."

The prisoner clambers to his feet and moves at Thrandimir's command. Osrik looks at Katrin. "I have to go und check in with these people," he says, his concern making his accent more prominent. "Will you be okay here? You are here , Katrin. Not back there. Here. "

For a moment, she doesn't move, staring at her brother as if he'd sprouted an extra nose. Then she blinks, breathing in slowly, trying to push away the fog of the past that still looms threateningly on the horizon of her memory. "I'm...here," she says, her voice hoarse and brings up her hand to press against her chest. "Promise." And though the fog doesn't disappear, she manages to keep it at bay, steadying herself on her feet. Still feeling a little shaky, she reaches out a hand to Ember's back, letting her brother go. "I'll be okay," she whispers, giving him a weak smile. 

"Okay," Osrik says. He nods to Akiran, then looks at Lilliana, then to the young dragonborn.  "Let's go. Lead the way, kid. What's your name?" "Ferrick," the young dragonborn says as the three disappear into the forest. As they leave, the soldier glowers at Akiran. "Now that young eyes and ears are away, what are you gonna do?"

Akiran's meets the soldier's glower with cold indifference "Same thing ya were gonna do ta us."  Meeting Thrand's eyes again, his blade darts out quickly cutting through the prisoner's throat. Adding  "Ya lot coulda just listened an' fucked off"  before aiding the others with the grim business.

The cold grip of death seizes another of the mercenaries as frost spreads from Thrandimir's staff across the man's body. "In the lake then?" The wizard confers with Akiran.

Katrin watches her brother disappear with Lilli and the young dragonborn, leaning more on Ember than she had before Osrik had left. Her unwilling foray into the past had taken more out of her than she'd anticipated, and all she wants to do is curl up in bed with Rose and cry. But Rose isn't here, and neither is her bed. Everything around her is still muffled, and she's aware that Thrandimir and Akiran are dealing with the remaining Irregulars. It takes everything she has left to not sink back down to the ground. 

Akiran drives his blade through the last conscious soldier, the scales on his snout shifting between anger and regret. With a nod to Thrand he says "Ya probably da best play here. We should weigh em down though, if they weren't lyin' 'bout the scouts. Better ta leave no bodies, for em ta find."

Renley frowns at first as the dragonborn and the old man start offing the remaining members of the group one by one. Definitely seemed a bit more brutal than he'd hoped for, but as he watched more, it was of course the safest course of action. With a click of his tongue he shoves off his knees to stand and glances over at the one last irregular: the man who'd called himself Flinn. Kneeling down to hunch over him, his head tilts as he watches the slow rising and falling of the man's chest, knocked out as he was yet still alive. One other aspect caught his eye — the twin minute puncture wounds along the lower curve of his neck. Renley glances back towards the others. In getting shot as he had earlier, he'd given little thought to the bite. The flash of his fire-bow and pulse of pain that followed had thrown caution to the wind. Of course, he was pretty sure none would have seen what had happened anyway; it'd been quick and fast, as he often was. Yet this provided at least one opportunity to play things a tad closer to the vest. His pointed nails still marred a bit in red gore from before, he reaches down, hand hovering but for a moment over the seemingly unaware victim, then slashes swiftly and deeply down across the bite mark, carving the flesh undiscernibile. Then, he follows suit and dumps the corpse in a like fashion to the others. "Shame honestly," he tsks  as the water splashes around its newest meal. "Spillin' puhfectly good blood like that. But alas..."

Tegan J. said: Akiran drives his blade through the last conscious soldier, the scales on his snout shifting between anger and regret. With a nod to Thrand he says "Ya probably da best play here. We should weigh em down though, if they weren't lyin' 'bout the scouts. Better ta leave no bodies, for em ta find." "May I?" Thrandimir asks Akiran, reaching for the dragonborn's blade as they stand over the corpses of the prisoners.

Akiran pauses for a moment confusion evident on his snout  "Uh.. ya sure." before holding the sword level in front of him with room enough on the hilt for the Wizard to grab it. The usually gleaming weapon still marred by the bandit's blood dripping from it's blade. 

Thrandimir takes the blade and carefully runs each of the men through once more, making sure to impale the lungs and stomach. The wizard runs a hand past the blade as he passes it back to Akiran, leaving it spotless. "That should hopefully keep them from swelling up."

The bodies float for a few short moments before being carried away by the tidal currents. They begin to sink even before they've reached level with the keel of Osrik's boat -- especially the ones with metal armor. The battlefield is quiet for a few moments, before a rustling from the trees to the east announces the arrival of Osrik, Lilliana, and a whole lot of dragonborn.  The dragonborn look pretty worse for wear. Not one face escapes the weakness of exhaustion. Even the warriors, bearing shield, sword, and spear, look tired -- their armor marred by blood and scratches. All told, there are perhaps three dozen dragonborn of various colors -- many are blue, like the scout. But there is at least one of every chromatic and metallic scale variety -- even silver.  Akiran is shocked to recognize the silver dragonborn. Clan Sovine is here. Or at least, what is left of them. There looks to be only around five silver-scaled people here. Akiran's mother and father, as well as Shavel, the clan elder, are nowhere to be seen. Amongst those he recognizes are Kural, Shavel's second, as well as Arkath, another warrior about Akiran's age.  

Pity fills Akiran's eyes looking over the once honored clans, that had been brought so low. Though it is quickly replaced by fear as he finds the silver scales of Clan Sovine among them. The scene in front of him, had been something played out in his fantasies for years. He had dreamt of finding his once proud people battered and near broken, in desperate need of help. Of his help, visions of them begging to have him come home after hearing tale after tale of his glory. But living it, rather than the satisfaction he dreamt of, he's filled with a deep shame.  Looking from Arkath to Kural, he hangs his snout low failing to meet their eyes. Speaking in a steady yet quiet Draconic "Tiichir ekess clvin Sovine. Coi lifts sia gra'kul ekess ocuir wux mahhn slathalin." " Blessing to Clan Sovine. It lifts my heart to see that you still fight."  Pausing for a moment he begins again in common, an uncertain air to his tone  "We've got da supplies....had ta fight da heartlands for em."

Kural looks at Akiran. His eyes are wide with surprise, but they soon harden. "H esi deevdru svaust jahus hawga," Kural says softly. Our son who was lost. Arkath holds no such reverence for the moment. "Akiran, ya bloody bastard! How've ya been?" He looks back at Kural, and rolls his eyes at the elder's hesitation.  

The scales on Akiran's snout constrict as Kural claims he was lost. Anger threatening to overwhelm shame, as his mind wars with the fact that you can't be lost if you were banished. But his fury quickly fades as Akrath greets him, lifting his snout to meet the dragonborn's eyes. Surprise & relief evident in his face, his voice hesitant and lacking his usual panache "Better than ya by da looks of it!"  Flexing his scales into a dragonborn smile    "But it's good ta see ya Arkath " Looking again at the others of Clan Sovine his face  grows serious  "Where..Where's..."  For a moment he pauses, afraid to learn his parent's fate "da rest of da clan?"  

"They...well..." Arkath looks both uncomfortable and resigned -- not distraught or saddened, but resigned. "They're either dead or scattered across da country." He shakes his head. "Bresselvik was sending us food and supplies. Some Cape soldiers were in damiddle of a delivery back home when da greens came. Ripped through da village and scattered us. Happened to clans all across da country. Not just dragonborn. Goliaths too. Even some humans. The greens don't fuckin' care. Anyone on da Cape side of da border gets da sharp end of da spear."

The burning mix of anger and shame continued to boil within Akiran as he hears of the devastation the Heartlands his former employer brought to his people. With an angry shake of his snout he adds "Fuckin' Greens don't know when ta quit. Glad we got ta take a few of em out tonight. Ya lot gotta camp nearby? Da soldiers said that there's more of em coming, better ta clear out with da supplies while we can."

"There were greens here?" Arkath asks, looking concerned. "Well, if you killed 'em, all da better."  Kural has turned away from the conversation, moving toward the back of the mass of dragonborn to help guide two horse-drawn carts. Arkath watches Akiran's eyes follow the older dragonborn. "Don't worry 'bout him," Arkath says. "Can't be true, what they said about ya anyway."

It takes nearly all of Akiran's will power to keep his snout from falling. Shame & uncertainty quickly replacing the relief he felt just moments before. He had imagined reuniting with the clan, dreams of them welcoming him as one of their own as Akrath had just done. But more often nightmares of the Dragonborn's eyes boring into him wordlessly conveying their contempt.  Pausing for a moment as his mind wars with itself. Lie after lie bubble towards his snout, paths to use his famed silver tongue to charm Akrath. To have at least one of his clan not believe he was lower than dirt. But his snout refuses to give voice to the lies, he had already brought more than a life time's worth of shame to himself. He also can't bare to tell the truth, & see yet another of his people's gaze turn to contempt. In the end he simply says "It don't matter."  Pausing for a moment his eyes sweep over the remnants of Clan Sovine, battered bloodied, and near broken. Meeting Akraths eyes he says in Draconic loud enough for Kural to hear "Clan or no Clan, I'm here to fight for my people."

Arkath frowns, then shrugs, and slaps Akiran on the shoulder. "We need all da help we can get. We've been moving from place to place, trying to stay ahead of da greens, but it's hard."

The remaining dragonborn's battered & weathered appearance added weight to Arkath's words. Meeting the warrior's eyes Akiran dips his head in respect. "Ya survived, an' that's more than most can say after clashin' with da Heartlands." Grasping the Dragonborn's shoulder and meeting his eyes  "Arrogant fucks think they can crush everythin' in their way.  But we're gonna make em bleed. Hit em hard and make em feel what it taste like ta run." Looking around at the rest of the Fireblades he adds "Lead us ta ya camp, dunno if da others will help. But ya at least got one new blade." 

Arkath catches Kural's eye, then points at Akiran. The older dragonborn looks between the two, then shakes his head. Arkath spreads his arms wide, shrugging. "Sorry, Akiran. Old man says no. Only members of the clan can see da camp." He grimaces as he hears his own words. "Ach, sorry mate. Didn't mean that da way it sounded."

The wound comes so quickly that for a moment Akiran just blinks. Unable to even contemplate about stopping the pain and sadness from running across his snout. They still didn't want him. Even when they've been forced from their homes, broken, hunted, scattered to the wind & he'd offered his blade for free. They still didn't want him. Even with a blade at their throat, they still wouldn't disgrace themselves by taking his help. "Ya...I...Ah...ya.....I get it." Looking briefly from Kural back to Arkath he adds "Take care of yaself, Arkath." Patting  him softly on the back as he turns towards the boat. Absent mindedly reaching for his flask as leaves his people again. For a moment he tries to comfort himself with anger before simply accepting that he will never be home again.

Lilliana listened quietly to Akiran speaking with his clansmen, smiling at him speaking with amicably with one of his people, but when the elder dragonborn seemed to turn up his snout at Akiran's offer for help she frowns and feels a fluttering in her chest which quickly built up to a frown as she walks over to Akiran. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder as she stares down the old dragonborn. "Hey! You stupid, old asshole!" She points a finger towards him, prepared to unleash a verbal assault...

"Hey, don't worry. We'll see each other again,"  Arkath says, but cuts off as Lilliana shouts.

Renley had watched the meeting between the dragonborns with great curiosity, unsure what exactly to make of the less-than-warm welcome Akiran had received, but he was still quite new here so, Who's t'say that ain't jus' their way?  He found himself thinking. When the elder outright turned the man down, however, even he felt a twang of second-hand pain that was only outdone by the joyful shock of the young girl's words. With great amusement and interest, he raises a hand to his chin to watch the drama sure to unfold.

Akiran places his hand over Lilli's on his shoulder. "Ya don't know how much I appreciate that kid, but I earned this." Looking back to the Kural he tersely says "Thats on me, an' I apologize. Don't hold it against her."

Kural nods gravely, then turns back to the dragonborn who are loading the supplies onto their carts.

Thrandimir leans on his staff, shaking his head at the elder's stubborn foolishness.

Katrin watches the interaction, but the voices are muted and the air feels stagnant despite the slight breeze. She finds herself absently stroking Ember's thick fur, the repetitive motion comforting, relaxing her muscles and relieving the tension she still carried in her shoulders. Swallowing, she shifts her gaze to her brother, seeing him return providing another sense of relief. She wanted nothing more than to leave this place, to go home and sleep in her own bed. But a daunting trip across the lake lies before her, and her stomach twists at the thought of floating precariously on the waves. Pushing a little more heavily than she liked off of Ember, she walks shakily over to Os.  "You have to destroy them," she says quietly, staring at the guns lying discarded on the ground, at the guns gripped in the hands of several of the others. 

Lilliana frowns at Akiran, shaking her head in disbelief. "Akiran, no... this isn't right. The rest of your people shouldn't have to suffer because of some stupid, old fool! And they are clearly suffering. If we can help, then we should... right?"  She looks at him with a question in her eyes, but there is little resistant in her stance. 

Akiran hangs his head low unable to meet her eyes "I am  clvin nuri.... Clan less. "  His usual booming voice quite and tinged with burning mixture of sadness and embarrassment   "I fucked up an' shamed my myself and my former clan. They exiled me for it." Gesturing around at his people the supplies, and the water  "I thought da war may ah changed things...." With a sad shake of his snout " They'd rather suffer than stain their honor by taking help from me."

Takes Akiran by the shoulder and stoops her tall, lithe body down enough to force him to look her in the eyes. "Everyone makes mistakes, Akiran. I know your heart, probably better than any of them think they do."  She jerks her head towards the dragonborn elder. "Look, if you want me to drop this I will. These are your people and I may be overstepping a line here, but I know this is important to you. I don't care what some dried-up old man thinks. And honestly, do you know what all  of them think, or just him? I'd reckon most of them would rather live and eat with besmirched honor, whatever that even is,  than wither away and die . I can ask them, but only if you want me to."

Akiran meets Lilli's gaze, for a moment his eyes beaming with how touched he is by her words. Though this quickly flickers back to a tired resignation. With a sad shake of his snout "I'm not gonna beg em ta take my help. Honor mean's a lot ta em, don't wanna force em ta have to choose." Meeting her eyes again, his voice sincere  "Thank you. No one spoke up, da last time. I appreciate you jumpin in more than ya can know."

Arkath watches this entire display with confusion, his eyes slowly alighting with understanding. Without saying a word, he turns and treads back into the forest. Before Akiran can even register another dagger of embarrassment in his gut, Arkath returns with something slung over his shoulder. Walking right up to Akiran, he takes the object and offers it to him. "Think you dropped this back in the day," he says. Before him, Akiran sees his discarded shield, left on the battlefield from which he fled. A large crack runs down its middle, but by some marvel, the shield still holds together in one piece. As Akiran lays a scaled hand on it, the sky rolls with a crack of thunder. A breeze picks up through the clearing, carrying the scent of pine and fresh Cape air. The smell of Akiran's home. Osrik looks around. "Kat...what good would that do? They're already out. We lost that battle decades ago."