LiLNasY

The Rise from the Ashes

Oh man, I didn't notice I had posted in the OOC, sorry for that

The Rise from the Ashes

I felt bad as soon as I saw Meli's face change. The happiness drained out of it, replaced by hurt and confusion. I shouldn't have snapped at her like that.

"I'm sorry, Meli," I said, my voice softer now. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just... I had a bad dream. That's all."

I turned to Isolde as she handed me the letter. My eyes scanned the words quickly, then read them again more slowly. Triple the pay. Come to Ophidia. Last reminder.

That last line made my stomach twist. It wasn't just an offer anymore. It was a warning.

I set the letter down on the table and looked at the three faces around me. Elena, Garrick, Isolde. And Meli, still pouting slightly but watching me with those bright eyes.

"We should take it," I said.

The words came out before anyone could interrupt. I needed to say this all at once, needed them to understand.

"Listen to me, please. This is twenty-five thousand gold. That's enough to buy land somewhere else, somewhere far from Ophidian interests. Somewhere safe." My voice got stronger as I talked, more urgent. "I need to keep you safe. All of you. You've given everything for me. Your whole lives. And now they're threatening us. You saw those soldiers. You read this letter."

I looked at Elena, at the silver in her hair. At Garrick's hands that weren't as steady as they used to be. At Isolde's tired eyes.

"Adam spent twenty-four years keeping me alive. I won't let his work be for nothing by getting you all hurt or worse. We can leave. Start over. They get their orchard, and we get to live in peace somewhere else."

My heart was beating fast. The words felt right and wrong at the same time. This was the smart choice. The safe choice. Adam had taught me to think strategically, to know when to fight and when to retreat.

But then my eyes landed on Meli.

The Moonpetal Gathering. Her home. Her family. The satyrs who had stood with us when the soldiers came, who had made this orchard more than just a hiding place. They lived so close to here, just into the grove.

If we sold and left, what would happen to them? The road already cut close to their sacred spaces. How long before Ophidia pushed further? How long before the Moonpetal had nowhere left to go?

"Fuck," I whispered.

The word slipped out before I could stop it. My hand, the draconic one, clenched into a fist on the table.

The Rise from the Ashes

Okay, they say it's triple what they offered last time. So how much was offered last time?

The Rise from the Ashes

Not sure if it's worth anything, but I rolled a natural 20 in the insight check. >< roleplayerguild.com/rolls/29580

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

You walk briskly toward the inn, lifting your skirt slightly to keep the hem clear. Your heart pounds, but you keep your breathing steady, your pace purposeful but not panicked.

The footsteps behind you continue at the same deliberate rhythm. They don't speed up. They don't slow down. Whoever it is, they're either not trying to hide their presence, or your quickened pace hasn't tipped them off.

The distance to the door feels like miles, but finally you push through the swinging doors. They swing shut behind you with a soft creak, and the warmth and noise of the tavern envelops you immediatley.

The Panther's Rest is alive with activity. Humans make up most of the crowd, but you spot a dwarf arguing good-naturedly with a halfling near the bar, a tiefling laughing at something her companion said. The woman on stage finishes her song to enthusiastic applause and calls for requests. People shout suggestions, clinking their mugs togeather.

Nobody looks afraid. Nobody looks over their shoulder.

Your attention is quickly drawn to the bar, where a half-orc woman commands the space with practiced ease. She's enormous, her deep gray skin gleaming in the lamplight, her auburn-strawberry blonde hair rising in a voluminous cloud around her head. She moves with suprising grace for her size, sliding frothing mugs of beer across the counter without spilling a single drop.

She spots you almost immediately, her keen eyes taking in your fine dress, your wide-eyed expression, the way you're still catching your breath. She wipes her hands on her apron and moves toward you with surprising speed.

"Well hello there, sugar!" Her voice is warm and welcoming, with a drawling accent you've never heard before. "Welcome on in to the Panther's Rest, finest tavern and inn this side of the Thornwood. Name's Gerta." She gives you a quick once-over, not unkind. "You look like you could use somethin' strong, or maybe a room, or maybe both. How can I help ya, darlin'?"

You glance back toward the entrance, trying to spot whoever was following you. The swinging doors rock gently on their hinges. Three people stumble out, laughing, clearly well into their cups. A man with his arms slung around two women, all of them singing off-key as they disappear into the night.

You squint, trying to see past them into the darkness beyond. For just a moment, you think you catch something. Blueish-gray smoke, maybe? But the contrast between the warm lamplight inside and the darkness outside makes it hard to tell. It could have been nothing. A trick of the light. Or your nerves playing tricks on you.

---

What do you do?

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

Yeah, feel free to add an investigation or perception check if you want to identify what has been following you.

Forever DM Seeking Their Own Adventure! (1x1 or Group)

Thankfully I already have 4 games running with Rush and Guardian Angel, but I'd be up for a couple more! So bump. :D

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

Sorry that the text in the map is so smallll! Lol I just purchased King of Canvas map maker and really wanted to use it. Hopefully you like that addition.

The Rise from the Ashes

I woke up fast, my heart beating hard in my chest. The dream still felt real, like something was still watching me. That voice in the darkness wouldn't leave my head, even with Meli's happy laugh filling my room. Resurrection or Destruction. The words felt important, but I didn't know why.

I sat up slow and ran my normal hand through my hair. My draconic hand opened and closed by itself. Was the voice familiar? I couldn't tell. It felt more like a feeling than a sound, like it went straight into some deep part of me. Maybe it was something about dragons. Or something older.

"Don't repeat your father's madness," Adam's voice came into my head. It happened a lot these past three months. "Be what they should have been."

I got out of bed and went through my morning routine. In the washroom, cold water waited in a basin. No one heated it because they knew I didn't usually take baths in the morning. I liked that they knew my habits. Elena, Garrick, and Isolde had done so much for me over the years. I tried not to make extra work for them.

The cold water felt like a shock on my skin, but it helped wake me up. I washed quick, still thinking about that voice. The last. What did that mean? The last Solarian? The last hope for dragons? Both?

I dried off and put on simple clothes good for working in the orchard. Long sleeves and my usual glove hid my golden arm. As I walked to the dining area, I heard Meli's voice again. "Make way, the Lord of the House is up!"

"Don't," I said when I came in. My voice came out too sharp. The title felt like a joke, even if it was true. Lord of what? An orchard? Three old retainers and a cold egg that might never hatch? I felt a little bad when I saw Meli's face. "Just don't call me that."

I sat down at the table. Elena's pancakes smelled amazing and made the room feel warm and safe. It was so different from the cold dream and the trouble outside. I looked at the window, at that road cutting so close to our land. It was like a wound through the grove.

"Isolde," I said, looking at the seamstress. She was probably already working on something with her needle and thread. "Another letter came yesterday, didn't it? About selling the orchard?"

This was the third one this month. Maybe the fourth? The first letters were polite and offered good money. Now they were more like orders, with threats hidden in official words. Soldiers came twice already. They didn't need to say what would happen if we kept saying no.

Things in Ophidia were complicated. News from the north told different stories. The big cities in the middle were doing well. The madness that took over my father's last years was gone. People weren't scared anymore. Trade was good. The capital had been rebuilt. For a lot of people, the revolution gave them what they wanted.

But the edges were different. Small villages that used to get help from the crown, even when that help was strange and random, were now forgotten. Everything went to the middle, to help the new rulers stay strong. And Edenvale, wild and sacred Edenvale, was being cut apart bit by bit.

"I still have contacts," Adam told me once, back before he got really sick. The old knight sat in his corner, cleaning his sword like he always did. "In the capital. All over Ophidia. People who remember what House Solarian was before the madness. People who would help you if you tried to take back the throne."

I asked him why. Why would anyone help the son of a mad king? Why support what was left of a family that destroyed itself?

"Because they remember your mother," Adam said. "And because they want to see if you're like Edric or like Liliveth."

I picked up my fork and cut into Elena's pancakes. They were perfect like always. Light and soft with a little sweetness. My small family sat around the table for breakfast, the same thing we'd done for twenty-four years.

But outside, the road got closer. More letters kept coming. And in my room, hidden away, a dragon egg got warmer every day.

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

As you step out of the alley, the street opens before you. The buildings here curve slightly, their edges softer than you're used to. Flower boxes rest beneath some windows, their contents spilling over in cascades of night-blooming jasmine. The cobblestones beneath your feet are worn smooth, and the air carries the scent of baking bread mixed with that sweet floral note you couldn't identify before.

The music grows louder as you walk, pulling you forward. You can make out the melody now, something with strings and drums, punctuated by laughter and voices singing along without hesitation.

The source reveals itself as you round a corner: a three-story establishment with amber light spilling from its windows. Above the door hangs a painted sign showing a sleek black panther mid-leap, its eyes gleaming with mischief. Carved wooden letters beneath spell out The Panther's Rest.

Through the windows, you can see the woman on stage, her fingers flying across the strings of a lute. People crowd around tables, mugs raised, some swaying to the rhythm. A few couples dance near the back. The joy you heard from the alley has faces now, animated and unafraid.

You're perhaps twenty feet from the entrance when you hear it.

Footsteps.

Behind you. Deliberately paced. Not running, but purposeful. Getting closer.
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

---

What do you do?