Aranya

The two residents of Thedeim hurry through the streets, both trying not to worry too much about the clouds rolling in off the ocean. They both saw the map, they both know Thedeim is making his move on Hullbreak today.

What they’re uncertain of is if he can keep Hullbreak’s counter from destroying the town. Thankfully, he won’t have to try and do it on his own.

“How long do you think it will take for them to get ready?” asks the kobold of her more experienced feathered friend.

“Some will already be awake, and so should take no time at all. Some… may sleep through this in its entirety,” Yvonne admits. Aranya can’t imagine someone sleeping through this… well, maybe. She’s seen Ragnar win drinking contests with people who take days to wake up, and who’s hangovers make them wish they never woke up at all. The dwarf always seems to weather such escapades just fine. He doesn’t seem to be much of a morning person, but he has that professional demeanor of a soldier who can wake up and get right to marching, even if it takes a few miles to truly wake up.

She’s not sure she’s ever seen Aelara even yawn, much less sleep, so she’s not too worried about her being groggy for something like this. She’s just worried how many other adventurers they’ll be able to gather in what little time they seem to have.

Her fears are partially assuaged as they near the guild hall, and she can hear morning activities from within. While the sounds at night are often of raucous party and merriment, the morning sounds are more industrious; the sounds of people eating and chatting as they prepare for the day. Adventurers always have a day of danger ahead of them, and celebrate a day of adventure behind them, she supposes.

The two Residents burst into the guild, only drawing a few eyes. Once Yvonne makes a line for the thin orc behind the bar, she draws a few more.

Karn the Slight greets the two as they approach, but doesn’t offer them something to eat or drink just yet. It couldn’t be more clear they have something important to discuss if they had the aranea carve it on a sign over their heads. “Heya. What’s up?”

Yvonne cuts to the heart of the matter with her words, as she often does with her arrows. “Hullbreak is attacking the town with an army of seagulls.”

Aranya can see him start to smile, thinking it’s a good joke, but he can read the seriousness on their faces. “How bad?” he asks, all business.

“Bad enough that Thedeim is mobilizing his dwellers, too,” answers the red kobold. Karns widening eyes signifies he understands the seriousness of the situation. He inhales and speaks loudly.

“Raid Quest!”

The general murmurs of the guild go silent for a few moments, as they all get the notification and option to join the raid party. Aranya and Yvonne join without hesitation, and they can feel the other adventurers quickly joining as well. In a matter of a heartbeat, the atmosphere inside the guild changes from people enjoying breakfast to people preparing for war. Breakfast still is eaten, but much quicker now.

“Any more details than that?” asks Karn of the two, and Aranya speaks up after a few moments.

“Lord Thedeim is making a move on Hullbreak Harbor. This must be the Harbor’s attempt to strike back at him. We had all thought he was limited to only having significant forces under the waves, and so disregarded the seagull spawner.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, the orange sphere of her pendant gently glowing for a few moments as she tries to divine details from her home sanctuary.

“...there is a scion with the gulls. Lord Thediem has sent Poe, and will be sending Fluffles soon, too. The dwellers are focussing on plans to get the townsfolk to safety, with the help of the Dungeoneer’s Guild.”

Karn considers that for a few moments, then nods. “Sounds like he’s got a better civilian response than the mayor. They can keep the townsfolk out of the fight, so we’ll get ourselves into it. Any better directions than ‘the sea’?”

Aranya slowly shakes her head. “None yet, I’m afraid.”

The thin orc shrugs. “The docks should be as good a place to gather as any.” He raises his voice before speaking again. “Raid leaves in five minutes. If you can’t make that, either catch up at the docks or go to the Dungeoneer’s Guild to offer them assistance.” With that, he makes his exit to start spreading the information about what, specifically, is happening.

Aranya and Yvonne take the chance to head up to Aelara’s and Ragnar’s room. Inside, Ragnar is putting his armor on… maybe even literally in his sleep. The kobold watches for a few interested seconds, before Aelara gets her attention.

“What’s happening? There’s a Raid Party,” she says with mild concern.

“Hullbreak is sending an army of gulls to attack the town. Lord Thedeim is sending forces to deal with it… but it will probably get messy,” answers Aranya.

Ragnar grumbles an unintelligible insult to seagulls as he continues putting his armor on. Aelara just smirks at that. “So mostly mages and archers and other ranged attackers will be the most useful?”

Yvonne nods, before giving Ragnar a sideways glance and a small smirk. “He might be able to insult them enough to draw the attention of any that slip past Thedeim, though.”

The dwarf mumbles something vaguely insulting to everything with feathers, earning a laugh from the gathered women. “That’s the spirit,” says Aelara with a smile, though it slips some as she looks out the window.

“Do you think the townsfolk will be alright?”

Aranya and Yvonne both nod, with the hawkwoman speaking up first. “Protecting them is our job. Even more than that, Thedeim’s dwellers are working with the Dungeoneers to help keep people from the worst of it.”

Further questions are waylaid by the voice of Karn. “One minute!”

Aelara meets her friends’ eyes as Ragnar gets his shield onto his back, and his axe at his hip. “Let us go do our jobs, then.”

Back down the stairs, most of the adventurers are gathered, and Aranya even spots the trio that tried to attack Yvonne. She still doesn’t like them… but she has to admit that her Lord Thedeim seems to have knocked some manners into them, at the least.

“Alright, let’s get going. I’ll be giving more specific assignments on the way,” says Karst, and leads the way out of the guild. Unsurprisingly, most of the adventurers with ranged attacks, of whatever variety, are to be stationed at the docks to help attack any gulls they can reach. Most of the more melee focussed people are to be runners and help coordinate, especially with the dwellers and Dungeoneer’s Guild.

The rude trio are assigned to be wanderers, to move wherever is needed to get anything that can slip past the main group of defenders. Aranya doesn’t like it, but has to admit it’s a good use of them. Their party isn’t exactly melee, but they’re also not capable of operating at the kind of ranges that true archers and mages can.

The orders given, the adventurers split off to go do their duties. Ragnar is much more lucid as they approach the dock, and at Karn’s nod, he steps forward to be the vanguard. Yvonne may have said it jokingly back in the room, but Ragnar’s unique ability to get and keep an enemy’s attention can help give the ranged defenders more time to deal with their targets.

A gnome walks through the loose formation of mages and archers, passing out potions as she goes, and Aranya moves to help in her own way. Minute orange threads spread from the small orb around her neck as she weaves her faith around all gathered. “Weaver’s Gentle Touch,” she intones, calling upon the subtle actions of her Sanctuary to help guide them all to victory, and to keep them all safe.

Her contribution made, she and the others can only stare out at the ocean, and the battle being waged between the forces of Thedeim and Hullbreak. No gulls seem to be getting past Poe and his multitude, but she can feel a growing tension from the others.

“Something’s wrong,” says an orc with the look of a shaman around him. Aranya looks at him, confused. “What do you mean? None of the gulls are getting past Poe.”

He shakes his head and points up, to the clouds over the chaotic battle. “The gulls aren’t the actual threat. Look at the clouds.”

Aranya does, but doesn’t know what she’s looking at. She’s used to there being rocks over her head, not clouds. A few others, however, look at the slow motion of the cover, and frown as well.

“The enemy scion is doing something.” That causes everyone to frown, but what else can they do?

“No…” whispers an elf who looks like he’d be more fit standing on a deck than a dock. “I’ve seen a storm like that, once. Way to the south. The ocean swells and rages as the skies tear at anything in the way. Our ship was out past its wrath, but the port we were trying to get to… just wasn’t there afterwards.”

A loud boom causes everyone to flinch, and Yvonne squints as she gazes at the hole in the clouds. “I see Poe… and Fluffles. And I think the enemy scion. It looks like an albatross.”

Before she can explain further, the orc shaman’s eyes widen in shock. “What is happening out there?” he demands with fear and awe.

“Fluffles is… building something. Some kind of orb,” answers Yvonne, uncertain of what she's actually seeing.

“He’s devouring the storm,” speaks the orc as he makes a gesture, calling a natural spirit in the form of a turtle, and starts working his magic to ensure the safety of those around him.

The nautical elf, and a few others, warily watch the skies, and Aranya suspects they have storm affinity. While the others can only watch in confusion as weaker booms reach their ears, the ones presumably with storm affinity seem to be getting more and more concerned.

They and Yvonne all gasp at the same time, while the others can only look on and behold the result of whatever happened. The hole in the clouds closes in an instant, before the storm simply starts to dissipate.

Everyone stands around in different states of confusion or shock as the looming threat just fades. Nervous cheers are heard, though the ones with storm affinity don’t join in. Eventually, the orc shaman seems to remember something, and looks at Aranya.

“What did your dungeon just do?” he asks, less as an accusation, and more as someone who just witnessed something profound.

“I… don’t know. What do you think he did?”

The orc looks back to the clouds, his eyes tracing the large raven and the winged serpent making their way back towards town.

“It ate a storm, and spat it back at the one who made it.”