Feyjin

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Feyjin Eldarhearth

Relatives	Father: Donwynn Eldarhart Mother: Evelyn Eldarhart Older Brother: Foremir Eldarhart
Languages	Common, Elvish, Halfling, Deep Speech, Draconic, Sylvan, Orc, Wiki
Affiliations	The Protectors of the People
Aliases	Fey-Fey (Begrudgingly)
Marital Status	Single
Place of Birth	Gromstrahd
Date of Death	N/A
Place of Death	N/A
Species	Halfling
Gender	Female
Height	2 ft. 9 in.
Weight	43 lbs.
Eye Color	Bright Burnished-Gold

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Feyjin Eldarhearth is a Halfling Grave Cleric from the small village of Gromstrahd - a place that generally has a small mix of your average humanoids. She tries her best to make sense of the world, and herself - and be a gentle face in times of misery and hurt.

Physical Appearance

Feyjin's most prominent feature is her strikingly bright burnt gold eyes and red hair (see image). At 2ft 9in, coming in at a little over 43lbs - she's a small one of her race, having been growth stunted. She wears her usual bone-white and ash-gray cleric's robes when on duty - but a pretty lilac tunic and tan trousers when out and about. She bears a small collection of scars on her wrists and forearms from her past temple's practices.

Upon an arrangement with the Starlight Dragon, Xarzith-Dian, she has a brand looking like a dragon's maw on the skin above her heart. She also has about 20-or-so smaller brands on her back, most of them heavily scarred over when the oath that created them was broken. Her most recent brands include a shield - now branded on both her and it's associate. And an open hand - one of the few that still remain intact.

Feyjin also now permanently sports a deep green headband that keeps her hair out of her face. It does not come off - which she finds heavily annoying.

Personality

Cautious not from fear, but from experience. She is happy to lend a hand where needed - unless severely scorned, then which expect less than a warm welcome from her. She seems mild-tempered, thoughtful, and calculating when challenged with a problem. She is determined and quiet when put to the task. However, her patience does run out. Should you find yourself the one who snapped her tether - Good Luck.

After Hugo Clarion had enraged the Aspect of Xarzith-Dian taking residence in Feyjin's soul, Feyjin has taken to a more aloof and quick-tempered personality. She is quick to anger and prefers to be left alone. She does not care for herself in the case of exhaustion - and will work tirelessly to achieve her goal at the expense of her mental and physical health. Her warmth, both literally and figuratively, is gone while the anger of Xarzith-Dian lingers. She will still help when called, but do not expect the happy-go-lucky attitude of the past while her Dragon-Heart's rage lingers.

After the calming of Xarzith-Dian, Her demeanor and attitude have mostly returned to normal. She still has moments of icy anger, but she has become good at supressing it.

History

Feyjin Exploring her Past Temple - Now Abandoned and in Ruin.

Feyjin was taken in by her local temple at the age of 2 - her parents not well-off enough to care for her and brother, opting to keep the eldest of the two. Since then she had grown up taking care of the ill and sending off the dead, coming to respect the cycle of life and death. Her life at the temple was good for a good until about the age of 15. After a new Council of Eldars arrived to replace the old beloved leaders of the temple - things quickly turned south. She had discovered that her brother, Foremir, had volunteered for an experimental procedure under the new Eldars to fix his heart - and had died under their knives. It had awoken a sense of dread in her and not three months later, she was forced to flee at the age of 16, running from under the same knife of the Eldars - who decided that worshippers are made, not earned. Taking refuge within the wilderness, her body bleeding out and buffered against cold she had an unlikely encounter with Xarzith-Dian, the Frozen Dawn, starlight dragon of the Astral Court - a cold, possessive, unforgiving being made of Primordial Ice and Light. As she lay hiding, dying of her wounds, the dragon offered a deal: "For your life restored, I will bind myself to you. You will contain my heart to replace yours - your lifespan and power will reach bounds unseen for your kind. As payment - your oaths to others will be binding, as your words will become law when the time is right. You will be the key to restore the Astral Court, the Heiress to my power and seat when my time comes to pass on. You will see to the end of the Great Shepard, the Shadow-Stalker, Att-Annalo - who has stolen my home. Should you perish - so will I, and vice versa. My mark will house our agreement, seared in flesh and forever binding. You will be Dragon-Hearted, Heir and Salvation to the Astral Court - Commander of the Endless Stars."

Feyjin, unable to answer verbally, nodded as her last action before death - for dying for nothing was far worse than living with no purpose. The deal was struck, a brand of a Dragon's Maw forever seared to the skin over her heart. Though she does not remember this deal, there had always been a difference in her magic and demeanor since that day. She is a woman of few promises, the mistakes of trust unwisely given also seared on her skin as a reminder. She now looks to her home's future, and since then has been working to find out what has become of her hometown, keeping her past in the past, and aiding those who would have suffered an unjust fate.

Languages

Common, Elvish, Halfling, Deep Speech

Powers and Abilities

Feyjin understands that she isn't the best at whacking blindly at beasts and monsters. Being that she's a small folk, she understood very early on that staying back is the safest way to aid her party. She's understood that as a spellcaster and healer, It's her responsibility to keep her party up and running, providing buffs to those in the front lines and weakening the foe. However, she isn't afraid of getting her hands dirty, commanding those against her to kneel and mark their fate as dated evildoers - and keeping them down until the deed is done to wipe the world of their stains. She is an efficient battle medic, and will have you up and back on the field in mere moments.

Her favorite way of putting down evil is her bells - One good toll is enough to be a sturdy warning - another, and your time is up. This also goes for any allies that push her too far. They're an effective boundary-setter.

She also has a Mini Murder-Jello Cube as a Spiritual Weapon - it varies in color and flavor from time to time based on her tastes. His name is Cuebert - He's generally Purple.

Attacks and Weapons 

As someone who normally avoids melee - she uses the power of her faith to fend off scoundrels. But when pressed between a rock and a hard place - the shovel she found on her hermitage serves her well. She'll mark them for death - and then send them to what she calls the "forever box".

Weapons:

Shovel (reflavored Mace), Hatchet, Shield, and now a Sword

Cleric Spells on a Normal Day (Unless Otherwise Specified):

At-Will: Guidance, Light, Primal Savagery, Sacred Flame, Spare the Dying, Toll the Dead

1st Level: Bane, Command, Cure Wounds, False Life, Guiding Bolt, Healing Word, and Inflict Wounds

2nd Level: (See lvl 1 Spells), Gentle Repose, Ray of Enfeeblement, Silence, Spiritual Weapon (Cuebert the Murder-Jello)

3rd Level: (See lvl 1 & 2 Spells), Remove Curse, Revivify, Spirit Guardians, Vampiric Touch

Favorite Attacks:

Toll the Dead, Guiding Bolt, Inflict Wounds, Cuebert the Murder-Jello, and occasional Smacking with Shovel/Sword

Latest Achievements:

2 weeks after the battle with Tranquil the Terrible:

Drang the Bugbear had returned to the Protectors of the People's Headquarters grievously wounded and alone. Feyjin was the first to notice him collapse within the main hall - casting a spell to stabilize him. A few of the other members assisted in getting him to come to - at the expense of learning that two of their members that had left with Drang would not be coming home - lost to a rift that had no way back. He passes out after, his grief and exhaustion too much to bear. At that point, Feyjin claims him as her ward - the days pass and she tends to him, making sure he is comfortable until he is ready to wake up and ignoring the grief of losing two of her own to another deadly mission. The time she spends exposes some dark things occuring in his body that she had never expected; his body riddled with dark, tough tumors running rampant through his body, his organs and innards defying his announced age, and the screams and wails coming from the blackened tissue. His body was being twisted and eaten from the inside out... Feyjin wanted to let him rest before asking questions.

Despite her patience, the others wanted to know what had occurred during the mission - and she had forcefully brought him back to consciousness. The tale was grim and sad, and the stinging of loss was felt by all members. The group took time to come to terms of this, and in the midst - the wills of the fallen, Asger Snærr and Markoth Dawnborn, were found and executed along with their final rites. During this time, Feyjin gave Drang a choice: Either let her perform an extraction to slow the magic wrecking his body, or let is run it's course - his days numbered to maybe a few years to maybe a few months at worst. The idea of cutting someone apart again, it nearly drew her to tears and upending her stomach - the operation so, so similar to the implantations her old temple used to conduct... However, Drang approved of the procedure - and after some time, was made unconscious to begin.

It had taken some time, carefully prying and trimming the dark, over-grown flesh from his body - enough to fill several containers. She kept steady, remaining guided and aided by comrades as she did her best to prolong her friend's life. There were times that she had to keep herself from shaking, knowing that one small nick in the wrong place could easily end the life she was trying to hold onto. But she kept her breath steady, and after some time and lots of sweat and patience - she had succeeded. She knew there were some bits that she could not get - too far gone and buried into his essential organs that trying would do more harm than good. However, she had grown confident that his body and spirit would recover swifty - so long as he didn't go running into fights anytime soon.

In the quiet of her room, Feyjin had felt relief - not only because she had saved a friend, but she had also taken something terrible she had learned and turned it into something useful... something good. She took time to write her experience in her book, noting the things she did to change the operation, and perhaps a step forward in reversing the terrible acts that her temple had committed to the people of her hometown. If she could only find a way to convince herself to return to her hometown to find out...

Not Even a Week Later from the Events that Occurred Above:

Hugo Clairon had become extremely reckless - to the point of potentially having his status of Leader as the Claw suspended. Feyjin, suspecting possession had collected the other remaining members of the council to vote on subduing Hugo until he was evaluated and hopefully corrected. This, unfortunately, was not so much the case. Using her spells, she found something primordial had a hold on him - and had a magic circle placed to keep him contained. Hugo was then Silenced - with his permission, and tested. besides the small insight Feyjin and her associates discovered - there was little. It came to the point that the only a thorough look into his inner being - his soul, would provide further insight.

A Tail member, specifically the small kenku Quill, had the ability to pry open the soul to observe. However, one was needed to actually dive in. Feyjin volunteered, and was quite litereally sucked in - her body going comatose while her mind and being were projected inside Hugo's soul and trapped within. Unfortunately, it was at this time that Reylendor discovered that the Flame was involved and ordered the immediate halt of the operation. Double unfortunately - the operation was already too far gone. Feyjin had taken her time dealing with different aspects of Hugo contained within his soul- Meanwhile, in the material world,k a coup was activated by the other members of the Claw by order of Hugo - causing much distress and the death of Sizzle the kenku due to Drang's Pumpkin Cart being absconded with as a distraction. Several other PotP members were either knocked unconscious or held prisoner before countermeasures were able to be taken. In the end, in order to "reboot" Hugo - Drang was forced to break Hugo's neck. Thankfully - this released Feyjin from Hugo's soul and allowed her to successfully revive Hugo. Although Hugo is now different, and Drang now has the "key" tattoo'ed on his neck, things will hopefully even out and no new catastrophes occur. If anything, hopefully Feyjin can get a prescription for the constant headaches they cause.

A Week After the Events Concerning Hugo:

Feyjin had discovered that the Shepherds of the Lost, the new Eldars of her past Temple, were a covert branch of the Servants of Att-Annalo thanks to Reylendor's assistance and a brutal truth spoken by Att-Annalo through him. Scared of retaliation but filled with determination they put their heads together to compare notes and various rituals they have taken from their former places of worship. With three days of religiously pouring over notes and manuscripts, recalling personal accounts and experimentation, Feyjin and the Mouth along with other members of the Tail has created a ritual to silence Att-Annalo inside Reylendor's mind. She had encountered Hugo 2.0 as she was working, and agreed that Hugo would be permitted to test a theory of his under her careful watch should she be able to convinvce Reylendor to go through with the tests. Reylendor was hesitant in the beginning - fearing that things could go terribly, but Feyjin persuaded him that if it did go right - he would finally have peace of mind.

On the day of the experiment, two members of the Mouth - Ehlori and Aedion, volunteered to hold up a Circle of Protection to let Feyjin work inside while keeping the others safe. Amira the Goliath and Watcher the Rabbit kept an eye on things. Once Reylendor and Feyjin entered the circle - Feyjin began reciting the Prayer of Communication, her body contorting as she brought Att-Annalo forth from Reylendor. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body sweat and contorted profusely as Att-Annalo was brought into sight within its vessel - looking amused. When Feyjin finished, she had to warn Hugo to stay out of the Circle - neither of them knew what the entity was capable of in this state. The entity crooned in Deep Speech, stating its vessel feared destruction. Hugo then steps forward to the edge of the circle, donning his crow mask and almost becoming foreign to Feyjin - his demeanor giving the essence of cruelty and malice incarnate. In that moment Feyjin realized that she was now between two powerhouses - each with the ability to destroy this room and everyone in it.

This is a transcript of the recording of the encounter recovered from Doxx the Automaton, Messenger of the Mouth:

Hugo, after donning his crow mask, “Star Eater, Throne of Shadow and Flame, Angel of the Astral Void I address thy as present and sound of mind as you stand in your vessel.”

Att-Annalo tilts it’s head, it’s face a mask of pure neutrality. It speaks in a voice low enough to rumble the room, something sinister lurking beneath the words uttered in Deep Speech. “You call me here, yet I think you have little idea for. This vessel fears destruction, but I have no desire for such trivial things.” It looks at Hugo and speaks in common in a tone that almost perfectly mimics Reylendor, “Silent and I have an accord. You should only fear me as much as you fear them.”

Hugo chuckles heartlessly, causing Feyjin to shudder. “You think I should be afraid. I think you forget where you stand and who you stand against. Fear me for I am desolation of all.”

The temperature in the room increases drastically, though is safe for humanoid companions.

The vessel of Att-Annalo's eyes narrow at the threat.

Hugo continues, ”Fear you? You're a rat scurrying through the gutters in search of the darkest shadows so you may feast on scraps that others leave behind. Not something to be feared, not even something to be scarfed of. You are something to be disgusted by as you crush it beneath your boot.”

Rather than appearing offended, the entity wearing Reylendor smiles. “I’m glad you understand that I am not to be feared. Perhaps we can reach, well, something of an understanding then." The smile falters into disgust, "Though, I doubt it.”

Hugo prys further, pushing his luck in getting a reaction out of the Elder God,”You play the part of the tyrant, but I know who you are. You are a coward. Your zealots took their blade and cut you off your whole to put in this pathetic vessel. I know why you cower behind your mask and only arise when you are pulled out. They messed up bad. Your weaker then your vessel. You realized that upon taking form in flesh that you could not survive, thrive in the world of material. If you were to raise your head above the crowd you would find it roll in a world that does not care for you. You hide behind the form of a boy because you are afraid. I call you pathetic.” Hugo reaches into his coat and removes a large flask of a dark liquid before gently laying it on the ground to spill into the circle without breaking any of the runes or sigils. “I bet you are curious what this is?”

Feyjin notices the liquid, a blind flash of panic in her face.

Att-Annalo appears to have grown bored, uninterested in the Warlock. “No, I don’t particularly care.”

Feyjin takes this time to prepare herself, this heat seemingly familiar to her. She stills herself as the two powerhouses look to one another, trying to muster up courage despite being the smallest and weakest one here. "May I remind you that I summoned you? You two can continue your children's quarrel when I finish with what I came for. You wanted me to help your vessel - so here I am, doing what you asked. Like a good little Servant that you want me to be."

Hugo chuckles, his voice hollow, ”Well you should. They call it Folgrim’s Fire. A very volatile substance. Just a little spark and you will find you vessel naught but ash. And you need your vessel. Without it you are a feather on the wind without body, without will. You need Reylendor and your f*cked if you lose him. That’s why we need to make a deal. You need him more than any of us need you. We will permit your continued existence, but only if you corporate with us. You will cease servicing as a parasite and serve as a symbiotic passenger to your host. I broke the weak and burned the strong, I shattered the foundations of the PotP. My name is Hugo Clarion and I will burn the world, fear me or be sundered.” Hugo's tone turns sharp.”There is no use in fighting back. We all burn in the end.”

There is an increased magical pressure coming from the Vessel's body, Structural integrity of the Protection Circle is rapidly degrading.

Suddenly, the effects of the circle appear to grow dull. Att-Annalo tilts its head again. “Do you have ears, Hugo Clarion? I am no parasite. When I take control, I service my own means, which have naught to do with the destruction of anything. I have no interest in wanton death. You have called me here to ask that I continue as I am?”

Feyjin watched as Ehlori collapses, eyes widen as Aedion goes down next - unable to keep up the pressure of the spell against this entity's sheer presence. She looks to Hugo, eyes in terror. She fucked up. Shit was hitting the fan.

Hugo ignores Feyjin's expression. ”You will quiet your indecent whispering and come to find a consensus with Reylendor where you both can coexists. If you agree to this, maybe I will let you go. And remember-” Hugo conjures a bit of flame in his palm, the light flickering on the spilt Fulgrim's Fire. “-where you stand.”

Hugo looks to Feyjin,”Its time you take a time out. Feyjin now!”

Without warning, Att-Annalo lets go and Reylendor comes back to the surface, his eyes turning their normal green again. He stumbles forward, tripping out of the circle and landing on his knees with a painful crunch.

”No your not allowed to leave yet! “ Hugo presents a symbol of Att-Annalo to keep the being present. “Feyjin we are running out of time!”

Feyjin quickly presses her hand to Reylendor's chest - eyes filled with anger as now the goliath on guard falls to the ground from the other-worldly pressure. The ritual flares up once more, "You will stop. You will stop this immediately and obey me - Grand Shepherd. You will not go to hide back in the shadows without my permission!"

In Primordial Hugo begins to recite a variation of the prayer which is to serve to pull forth and bind the entity, aiding Feyjin's command. It takes a moment for the spells to settle, the eyes of Reylendor and Att-Annalo flickering as they fight for control. But eventually, it is successful in holding the Elder God's entity within the vessel. Hugo mutters in Primordial “As you are bound to this vessel you are at our command - otherwise your sanctuary of life shall serve as a prison of flesh. To flee is to submit. Bow and you shall live to walk the plane once again in the vessel that is Reylendor.”

Reylendor’s eyes fade again as Att-Annalo takes control once more. “You call again? I believed we were done.”

Hugo, failing against the strain of Att-Annalo's presence, mutters to the halfling. “ Its all up to you Feyjin.” Hugo then removes the mask, his face covered in sweat, before he passes out.

Att-Annalo stares at Hugo’s fallen body with a rather unimpressed expression. It sighs in a way that mimics Reylendor. “Such… dramatics? And for what? To threaten to burn down anything and everything in the way of his own ambition. How very… un-amusing.” It looks to Feyjin. “Now, perhaps we can finally speak. That is what you want, is it not?”

Feyjin scowls, "I need answers, and one last favor from the being that turned my home to a desolate wasteland - If you have the patience to deal with a former worshipper that is."

Feyjin's nose starts to bleed from the constant exposure of Att-Annalo's presence.

”I find myself rather tired of many who claim to be my worshippers. Perhaps you possess greater insight than others? So…” Att-Annalo shifts. Reylendor’s body twists and bends, bones and muscles collapsing in on themselves. His form distorts and shrivers into a husk before expanding and taking on new, shorter limbs. He looks almost identical to Feyjin’s deceased older brother: if Feyjin’s brother had eyes with pupils that split and reformed every other second. “…What do you wish to ask of me?” His voice is distorted, like multiple people speaking at once. One voice among the many, a faint dying sound, is just like her brother’s.

All Feyjin can do is watch as she sees her brother's body before her, puppeted by the very thing that he sacrificed himself for. She remembered watching his body cease breathing, his bright blood dripping from the altar to the floor. She stood by him when he took his last breath - telling her that he couldn't wait to be healthy and have her come back home to her real family. He had been the little piece of sunshine that visited when the eldars started killing off dissenters and protesters within the temple. He was the awakening to her eyes to what the temple really was. The closest thing she had to real flesh-and-blood family. Without flinching, Feyjin's fists clench so hard they draw blood, it dripping to the floor. Whatever calm resolve she had left in her small body left. Her body goes slack standing, slowly looking up to the eyes of her beloved brother's corpse in nothing but a cold fury that came from where light and warmth and color fear to tread. "You... you dare disgrace his image and voice in front of me. You told the eldars the Ascension would heal those who were ill. You said as long as they did the ritual his heart would be fixed - that he would grow up to be a healthy man. I. WATCHED. HIM. DIE. ON. THAT. F*CKING. ALTAR."

She walks up to her brother's body, unmarred by the knives of her Eldars, clean of blood and gore - a lover's closeness as she weaves her words into the command spell.

Feyjin then feels a hand weakly grab her boot, Hugo's hand attached to it. “Don’t do it, resist. Finish the ritual,” he mutters in a raspy voice. ”I believe in you………”

The halfling takes a moment to think as she holds the spell - and then binds her words to the Weave. "So you're going to tell me how to tear that altar apart - sever it's connection to you. And then you're going to tell me what you want as payment for my brother's freedom of you."

Apparently having had his fill of just watching, Watcher the rabbit leaps off of Feyjin’s desk. He staggers under Att-Annalo’s presence, but keeps going—and hops onto Feyjin’s shoulder. It whispers to Feyjin, and though it’s words are in Sylvan, they can somehow be understood. “Light that harbors the dark. Fated twining of souls. Reach against the strain. To know inner sorrow Is to triumph in life.”

The heady scent of caramelized carrots fills the room, though the only creature affected by it… is Att-Annalo. It loses concentration over its transformation and morphs back into Reylendor. Reylendor’s eyes flicker between dull and vibrant and Att-Annalo stumbles back, stepping back into the circle and trying to keep its will from being crushed under the smell of carrots. Watcher stands as tall as a rabbit can on Feyjin’s shoulder. It speaks to Feyjin again, in a Sylvan that is somehow comprehensible. “Reylendor told me you had the strength of a Druid’s heart, and I think it so. It’s heart, however, is in pieces.” Watcher calls out, “Reylendor! It’s time for you to wake up and help!” At that moment, Reylendor’s eyes shift to their normal shade for just a moment so he can nod at Feyjin with fierce determination.

Feyjin takes this opportunity to finish what she came for, deciding with a heavy heart that answers can wait. "Has been for years. Still is." She moves quickly, finishing the final ritual. "I find that a heart shatters like glass when it's light is ripped away." The ritual forces Feyjin to her knees, ears and nose bleeding from the sheer force and adamantine-will that she puts behind her magic, shaking the entire PotP in a shockwave. There are tears streaming down her face, knowing that she will have to go unknowing of her brother's status within the collective of Att-Annalo, potentially never being able to ever free her brother from it's clutches. Her eyes turn to a amber-gold, hair floating on a phantom wind. "You will answer to me one day, Slaughterer of the Lost. I will tear you from your throne and show you what happens to fools who take from those who are dragon-hearted. And if you ever take from me again, Att-Annalo, I will shred worlds apart to hunt you down and devour you whole. For though I am a mortal scorned, I will call upon a Frozen Dawn to cast the deepest shadows into the cleansing light of time primordial. You have been warned, Shadow-Stalker - for you are not the only one who is striving to walk into this plane." She then completes the final prayer, the deepest cold, wind, and light of a thousand frozen stars flooding the room as she seals him away - collapsing on the ground as the room shrouds in darkness.

Att-Annalo crumples to the ground. Reylendor’s body remains unmoving for several moments. Watcher bounds over and thumps on Reylendor’s stomach, making him jolt awake with a cough. He looks around the room, unsure of anything that’s happened, when it all abruptly comes flowing back to him. Every moment of the ritual plays out in his mind, making him clutch his head. Try as though he might, he can’t tune any of it out. Att-Annalo’s voice isn’t lurking in the background whispering anymore. Instead of a sinister chorus of whispers, he hears his own voice echoing inside his head… and what it says is both deeply troubling and oddly relieving. The fear of what lurks inside his skull steadily drains, being replaced by calm sense of knowing. He knows that his own will hasn’t triumphed over this piece of Att-Annalo’s. No. Instead… they’ve become one. As Att-Annalo did earlier, Reylendor stands, dusts himself off, and casts Spare the Dying on all the unconscious, one by one. A faintly purple, yet radiant light descends on the bodies of Feyjin, Hugo, and the other Mouth members. Watcher looks between Reylendor and Feyjin, and though he has the face of a rabbit, he appears faintly proud.

While this occurs, Hugo is unconscious on the floor

Feyjin lays on the ground, thankfully breathing - but thoroughly f*cked up. Her body is limp, her face is covered in her own blood, and she is completely empty of magic - no better than the local farmer.

Hugo shoots awake. "Holy crap, I didn't realize how much that would take out of me. How did he do that shit all day!" He reads the room, seeing several people getting up from the ground. "Was, uh, was it successful?"

Feyjin is still, tears streaming from her face as she lays there, numb. Her ears are ringing, still coming to terms with all that's happened.

Hugo tries again, "I didn't hear a no."

Reylendor stands at a distance. Concern is written all over his face, but he is unsure if approaching Feyjin is best at the moment. Instead, he concentrates and puts down a Beacon of Hope: a pillar of crackling golden energy surrounds him, and then he begins to cast Prayer of Healing, murmuring words in Druidic. The light from the pillar slowly drifts out to form an aura around Hugo, Feyjin, and the other Mouth members.

"For anyone's sanity, know I lied about the Folgrim's Fire. Its just substance that looks like it. But we probably shouldn't be laying in this though either, because you don't want to know where i sourced this shit from. Well actually, I just gave it away."

Feyjin silently pulls herself from the ground, hollow and thoroughly empty. "He has my brother."

Everyone can see her resolve break, her knees buckling as they see pain in every feature of her face - one that was desperate enough to lose everything to get something back. She is holding back 12 years of grief and deep sorrow.

No longer caring as soon as Prayer of Healing is cast, Reylendor runs over to Feyjin and throws his arms around her in what he hopes is a comforting, or at least grounding hug. “You were willing to sacrifice everything. That willpower was what stopped it—what saved me. Thank you, Feyjin.” Reylendor’s voice cracks and he tears up. “Thank you.” Watcher bounds onto Feyjin’s shoulder again and rubs his cheek against her face.

Feyjin can barely register the present, she lets out a shuddering breath trying to avoid shattering into pieces. "Thank the gods you are okay. Never scare me like that again. I can't lose another part of my family - I won't allow it." She pulls Reylendor close, gripping them in a crushing hug with every fiber she can muster. "The next time I encounter that entity hurting you - I will shatter realities to protect you. Never again will I force you to endure this. Never again - I swear it." In this moment, a flash of light and freezing heat mar Reylendor's and Feyjin's skin - the mark of a bright shield searing itself onto your forearm and Feyjin's back.

Hugo while still laying facedown on the ground lifts his hand to reveal the brand on his palm - it glowing for a split moment.

Reylendor squeezes Feyjin back. “We’ll destroy that thing together. We’ll tear it to pieces for everything it’s done. I swear, I’ll stop at nothing to help you avenge the fallen—I’ve been keeping my head in the dirt for too, long. Just, don’t try to sacrifice yourself again. Please.” Reylendor pulls back to look at her, tears streaming down his face. “I would go through that a million times over it it meant not losing anyone.”

Feyjin drags Hugo into the bone-crushing hug. "Thank Hugo - had he not given me time... You could have been stuck like that. It... It broke though my circle with sheer force. I would've had no choice but to thrust everything I had into keeping you here."

Hugo looked sheepish at the remark, "I uh, told you it would all be ok. I think we proved Hugo Alpha's theory right though. Damn, pretending to bee like him takes a lot out of you, ya know?"

Feyjin lets out a laugh that is free, the happiest you have ever heard her. "Alright - drinks on me. We've just been through hell - let's never do that again."

Transmission ends.

Diving into Reylendor's Soul - Because the Rabbit suggested it:

Feyjin made a soft knock at the door. "It's Feyjin... Do you have a moment?"

The head of the Tail, Reylendor, blinked - snapping out of a research induced daze as he looks away from notes concerning the Shepherds of the Lost. He opens the door and met Feyjin with a smile. “Come in.” There were several papers stacked on his desk, but they were neatly organized by date and relevance. Quill was curled up in a corner looking through his own assortment of magic spellbooks bursting at the seams with notes. Nephra—a tall drow—was beside the door tinkering with a set of armor. Opal—the blonde halfling—sat beside Quill, filling out a map. Luenne stopped bustling about offering help to everyone, instead offering Feyjin a cup of tea: the liquid is suspiciously red, but Luenne assured Feyjin it’s just very strong tea.

Feyjin walked in, accepting the drink from the Dhampir, familiar with a few sanguine-colored teas. "I was hoping we could speak. Watcher mentioned something that I couldn't refuse... and I wanted to put it past you. Though... it might not sound as pleasant as one might hope."

Reylendor nodded seriously, though his words weren't hesitant. “This is about my heart, isn’t it?” He motioned for the other members of the Tail to give them a moment of privacy. Watcher hopped in as they left.

Feyjin was quiet, "...Yes."

”Watcher told me.”

The rabbit, Watcher, watched Feyjin’s reaction, having no concern for the fact that he lied to her about having to be the one to tell him.

Reylendor gave a somewhat rueful chuckle. “When we went into your soul the second time, while Hugo and I were investigating, the oath between us disappeared.” He held up his forearm, which lacks the shield brand. “I see now that this may have been a good thing. You have to do this,” Reylendor said determinedly, “and in doing so, you can’t promise to protect me. I understand that. I agree.”

Feyjin scowled at the rabbit for a moment, then looking to the missing brand... the skin was clean and unmarred. She looked a little heartbroken. "So it was yours that was severed..."

She felt a twinge of pain from the past brand's now scarred-over twin. "Watcher wasn't very clear as to how to remove it though. I was hoping to get some wisdom as to how I'm supposed to accomplish this."

”I assume he told you about some hearts being trickier to find than others? If my heart has truly been hidden away, it happened when my soul merged with Att-Annalo’s. My guess is that you’ll have to venture into my own soul scape to find it.”

Feyjin looked unsure. "The last time anyone's been in a soul - there had been severe consequences to tampering with it. Are you sure about this?"

Reylendor nodded, ”I’m certain. If there’s anything I can do to even begin reversing a fraction of the damage Att-Annalo’s done, then I have to do it. Besides, I would trust no one more than my fellow Protectors to enter my soul.”

"... Minus Hugo going on his own. I think that goes without saying."

”Yes, that would be… unfavorable to say the least.”

Feyjin relaxed herself, steeling her resolve. "I can start whenever you're ready. I don't know if you'll be able to guide me while I'm there... but I'll try my best."

Reylendor seemed rather assured, perhaps oddly so. “Now seems as good a time as any. Though, you may want others with you for the journey. In case anything unsavory occurs.”

Feyjin shouts down the hall, asking if anyone was interested in joining her - a few came to answer.

Having heard Feyjin's yell, Corbie came timidly to the door. "Umm, I don't know if i could be of any help here, Feyjin.... I'm not even sure if I am capable of 'soul diving'.... but I would gladly stay and provide assistance where I can. I'm happy to maintain a watchful presence here while you are working... and if anything we're to go awry... I could potentially step in. Oh uh, also... Reylendor, pleasure to meet you! I don't believe we've had a face to face yet... And I wouldn't dare overstep my place by inviting myself into your soul on our first meeting. I'm not quite sure about my place here, but if my providing assistance is permissible by everyone, then I'm happy to stay."

Reylendor smiled softly, ”Oh, Corbie! It is good to finally see you. I don’t think it’s presumptuous at all for you to lend Feyjin your aid. In fact, I’d be willing to allow you to venture in with her. I trust the members of the Protectors of the People, and you’ve done nothing but lend us aid.”

"As long as my assistance and presence doesn't cause you any discomfort, then you will have my full aid in this... The protectors have provided me with unbridled friendship... A sense of home, something I've lost too many times already... I wouldn't dare to sully that."

Feyjin put a gentle hand on Corbie's shoulder. "Your being here is enough."

Drang stomped in from outside to check on Feyjin after shaking the snow from his fur - having been working outside prior to Feyjin's call. “You’re doing what? Are you going in? Alright. alright... I’m coming - let me gets my stuff….”

Hugo followed in soon after, having been elsewhere within the base.

Reylendor called Quill back in a few moments later, the Kenku already equipped with a magic missile-infused wand at the ready— as he had been eavesdropping. “Well, I suppose we can start now. Time works differently inside soul scapes, so this may feel dreadfully long or incredibly short. I trust that you’ll be able to find wherever my heart’s been hidden. I wish you luck.” Reylendor then sat in a nearby chair and Quill made short work of carving the incision into Reylendor’s soul. Reylendor doubles over, in far too much pain to scream. A void appears to open before the team, like the world had been ripped open to reveal nothing but blackness beneath. Whether there would be anything at all on the other side was up for debate.

Feyjin, having been prepared before talking to her friend, faced the void. "See you guys on the other side." She then walked right in with no hesitation.

“F*ck——-“ Drang ran in after, still pulling on his armor as he hobbles in behind the Halfling.

Hugo muttered to himself, ”Lets, uh, I guess do this.” Walking in cautiously.

Corbie stepped forward and paused before the threshold of the newly formed rift, hesitant by thoughts of self doubt. But his worries were put to the side as he was encouraged by the fearlessness of his friends and followed behind them through the rift.

Drang, while in the void, had a loud and rather lengthy argument with the Slaat after going through. There was a lot of “No I don’t care." " Nope I have too." "NO, I DONT CARE, I'M NOT DOING THAT.”

Meanwhile, Feyjin remained unafraid of the darkness, holding a small stone imbued with Light as she ventured deeper into the blackness. She foraged ahead.

At first, it felt as though the party's consciousness was being stretched to its limit, and stars bursted behind your eyes. Your senses felt dead, but there was a creeping feeling in their minds that the blankness was somehow protecting them —like their minds would be torn asunder if they could look beyond the dark. Then, out of the nothingness, they felt air on their faces. When they could see again, they saw a bustling street wherein people of all races pressed to and fro, frantically trying to reach their destinations. An old dwarf shuffled along, muttering about being cheated out of his daily pay. A halfling man with a strangely sagging arm dragged his feet forward, tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes. A young human woman held a crying baby close to her chest, rocking it with increasingly slow movements as she struggled not to fall asleep on her feet. The Party had been dropped right in the middle of a sidewalk, and the placement makes a few people shoot the group irate looks as they struggled to squeeze themselves around them: inevitably, they bumped into others and short bursts of shouting would erupt.

Hugo was the first to look, noting the realism of the scape, "Oh woah, that was freaky."

Feyjin took a moment to look around, keeping her valuables tucked away safely. "This reminds me of what Reylendor said his hometown was like... It's a recreation of it anyway."

Taking in this new world, Corbie's expression was still showing anxiety, thought slightly more intensely then. Once he spotted the mother and child, his gaze remained fixed on them for a long time. His expression softened to a look of admiration as his eyes begin to form tears of their own. In a matter of seconds, a range of emotions flashed across his face; love, grief, rage... After composing himself and tearing his gaze away, he quickened his pace to rejoin the group.

Feyjin stayed with Corbie, noting the swath of feelings as she watched his face curiously, "I know this may seem counter to what you may prefer, but we will need to stick together until the others arrive. We can't afford to get lost in a place as dense as this."

Corbie looked sheepish, "I'm sorry, I'll stay close... I didn't know what to expect... I still don't."

Feyjin recognized that she’d been dropped right into the slums of… Whatever the name of Reylendor’s home city was—when she try to think of it, the name escaped her. She knew that the poor here would be working themselves to the bone and that crime was rampant. She knew that there was a tavern about three blocks from the decrepit old house on the corner—the one she was standing beside, and that it’d have whispered complaints about the Grimmire Family running this city into the ground. Those complaints would inevitably be silenced. Feyjin also knew that Reylendor’s entire family was already up and about despite it being the early morning and that they’d be on their way to their jobs. His mother worked in the fields, his father sold tea on one of the street corners, and Reylendor worked any odd job he could get his hands on - that she might find them if she looked hard enough.

Drang stopped arguing with the Slaat as he looked around, “Wow... This place sucks, huh? I should have bring pumpkins for the hungry peoples.”

Feyjin conveys her information about this place to the rest of the group, keeping an eye out for any young, dark-brown haired, tan skinned kids/teens running around here. "We can make a plan of action at the tavern. For now, stay close - and keep your valuables hidden. This place is not safe for flashing of coin or jewels." She takes a moment to put her holy symbol under her armor for safe-keeping.

Feyjin took the lead as she ran through the mental map of this place she had stored in her head from talks with Reylendor. Seeing a path, she started to head towards the tavern, keeping an eye out for trouble and Reylendor and/or his family members.

The rest of the party lined up behind her - corbie having taken to the tail end of the pack. Not a few moments after the group had departed from the sidewalk, Corbie immediately noticed a small, golden hand attempt to make its way to his pocket in an awfully clumsy pickpocketing attempt. When he looked down, he saw a small, gold-skinned elf with a way-too-big shield on her back and surprise in her blue eyes. The young elf girl curses in Elvish under her breath, having been caught.

Corbie looks to the elf girl, curious. "Uhhh, hello? Can I help you?"

”Yeah. You could hand over your coin purse, but I doubt you’re going to do that,” the girl snapped.

Feyjin turned quickly, noticing the child - and it's profanity. She replied softly in Elvish, "Such a dirty mouth for one so young. I wonder what your mother would think of your thievery."

Drang picked the little girl right up with little effort and walked slightly away from the group over near a building and crouched down to her. The girl kicked and squirmed, swearing up an Elvish storm. “Put me down you, you, big old geezer!”

Drang held the child like scruffing a kitten, “Hey listen little one, what you’re doing is very dangerous. We are not peoples to do this to or is any bodies,. I’m going to gives you 10 gold and you go buys whatever you need okay? As the child tried to kick at him, the bugbear laughed loudly, “You are strong! This is good, now you runs along okay?” He put 10 gold in her hand and scooted her along. The girl's eyes sparkled when she saw the gold. She looked up at Drang and then back at the group, like seeing them for the first time. “You’re… just giving me this?”

Despite the commotion going on... Hugo was still confused at how real everything was. When he was in Feyjin's soulscape it all felt like a dream.

Drang replies with a gentleness, trying to mind his gruff appearance and voice.“Yes little one, this ams yours now, Try to buys something that cans make you money an honest way okay? Like, uhhhh….when you makes sweaters or like Uhhh….whittling or something”

The girl paused for a moment before frowning at the man in front of her. “F*ck off. Don’t tell me how the hell to live my life.” She quickly pocketed the coin.

Drang roared with laughter at the audacity of this child, "Some people's kids... She's probably just hungry." He walked over to the group still laughing, “Did you - She tells me to f*ck off,” his voice filled with laughter. “Anyways, what are we doing again?

Feyjin couldn't help but chuckle. "Let's keep moving, we're already loosing daylight. The faster we get a plan together, the faster we can be out of here. We're searching for Reylendor, or at least one of his family members."

The girl continued to stare at the group. She spent a moment debating, then angrily stomped over. “You’re just going to get robbed you know - by someone better than me. If you stay on this street, that is.” She shuffled her feet. It’s clear that she was, in some way, trying to offer… advice?

Corbie looks to the little elf-girl, "Well what would you suggest? You know your way around this area, I assume... perhaps we can hire you as a guide? And you can earn more than the 10 gold the kindly bugbear gave you."

Feyjin paused as Corbie made this remark, suddenly having an idea. She turned to the girl, rolling a silver coin through her fingers. "People tend to pay well for good information."

The girl's eyes sparkle as she watches the silver coin in the halfling's hand. “Are you serious? I just tried to rob you.” She sputters. “How do you know I won’t lead you into some kind of assassin’s den or something?”

Feyjin looked at the child, impersonating what her frozen-hearted self would look like. "You would regret it. That is a guarantee that I can provide."

The girl laughed in Feyjin’s face, unimpressed, “Sure. If I did, I’m sure you would live long enough for me to regret it.” The girl adjusts the shield on her back with a grunt. “Whatever. I’ll make sure you don’t wander into an assassin’s den on your own. Where we going?”

Having turned to the group for reassurance on what is about to be said, Corbie replies, "We are looking for the Aspenmorrow family, specifically the young Reylendor. Do you know of them? Also, we never got your name. If we are going to work together, we should at least know each other. I'm Corbie."

”Vili Velawyss. And I don’t know anything about the ‘Aspen-marrows’ or whoever. This isn’t exactly a buddy-buddy kinda place.”

Feyjin walks up to her, gold and silver jingling quietly in a pouch attached to her belt. "You tell all of the other children you know that we are looking for him. You will keep this quiet amongst yourselves. I will pay a silver for every truthful piece of information on his whereabouts you bring back to me. You will receive a percentage based on that information. If you will not believe my words - then you will have to believe my coin."

Vili looked at Feyjin with awe for a brief moment before poorly schooling her expression. “I can do that!” She can’t keep the sheer, childish giddiness out of her voice. As you look at her, you notice that though her hair is golden, it’s matted. Her clothes bear several patches, as if they’re barely being held together. You’ve quite possibly made this girl’s entire life. “So,” she hopped from foot to foot, clearly anxious to get on with her newfound coin-making operation, “I’ll go tell Kara and Luke. They’ll help spread the word around. I can catch up with you at, uh, the tavern later! Do you know where the tavern is?”

Feyjin nodded. "Report back to me at the tavern just before sundown. If you do a good job we may have need of you and your friends again. Remember - this stays between us and the other children. Now hurry off - the faster you get us Reylendor Aspenmorrow's location, the faster you and your friends will get paid."

Vili nodded in understanding, practically vibrating with excitement. “Yes, miss!” Apparently, the promise of being paid brought out manners. Vili took off in the other direction, moving very fast for someone toting such a bulky shield.

Feyjin turned to her comrades after the child leaves. "That should buy us some time."

Corbie interjects as the little girl speeds off into the alleys, "Feyjin, what's the plan from here? Do we head to the tavern and wait on Vili or possibly we could search around town ourselves. I wouldn't think it would be too hard to find Reylendor's father on one of these streets."

"That's what I was thinking. I say we split into two groups - One to find his father, the other to see if we can get whereabouts on his mother and meet back at the tavern before sunset to meet up with Vili and get word from her and her friends. There are enough starving children around here that her word of a halfling paying for information to find a kid will spread like wildfire. Coin opens up doors that would otherwise be closed to us - especially in places like this, so long as you use it wisely and keep it quiet."

"Sounds like a plan. You and Drang check the town for his father? And Hugo and I can check the outskirts of town for his mother. Met at the tavern if we find anything or by nightfall?"

The halfling nods. "As long as everyone else is on board. Meet 15 minutes before sundown. I will message you if we run into trouble or find out anything important."

“You want me finds his father? Okay easy no problem,” In the middle of the busy street, standing a foot and a half taller than everyone else, Drang shouted at full volume into the streets.

"Drang! Wait! Don't go yelling-"

“AM LOOKING FOR REYLENDOR'S DAD! I GIVE 20 GOLD FOR PERSON WHO AMS TELLING ME WHERE REYLENDOR'S DAD AMS AT, OKAY?”

Feyjin pinches him aggressively behind the knee to get him to shut up. The bugbear recoils for a moment - quieting after seeing the livid scowl on the halfling's face.

People give Drang irritated looks and ignore him, continuing to go about their business. If anyone here does have information, they certainly aren’t telling. At least, not with that first impression. Feyjin sighs. "This isn't a place where you can shout what you want and pay coin, Drang. You have to be careful about who you talk to. People here will sell you out for a loaf of bread. And kill for even less than that."

Despite the shouting, there appeared to be one person who took note of Drang's offer. In an alleyway across the street, someone in dark clothes poked their head out and looked incredibly curious when he said the name Reylendor. You notice them stare at you for a moment before retreating back into the alley. Drang follows immediately. His halfling companion watches as Drang walks off into a dark, shady alley of all places. She swears colorfully in Halfling, running after him. Feyjin carefully comes up behind Drang, holding her funeral bells to unleash as soon as she notices a hostile figure.

Once in the alleyway, three cloaked figures immediately found the two of them, drawing their weapons. There was clearly no room to talk.

Drang laughs “hey you guys are making like, really big mistake”

Feyjin just slumps her shoulders. "I told you." She stays close to Drang, giving the bugbear Guidance as she looks to the cloaked figures cautiously. "What do you want with us?"

The cloaked figure who first looked at Drang narrows their eyes. He’s a human with a scar running across their face. He doesn’t respond, only keeping his sword at the ready. The other two appear less assured them him, but still look ready to attack.

The Slaat comes out in a heartbeat, “This is last chance idiots, you can tells me now, or I can kills 2 of you and I will pull the answers out of the 3rd.” The bugbear waits a breath's worth of time, “Okay perfect I prefer this way” He wields the Slaat viciously, running up and slashing at what he presumed to be the leader of the three.

The leader staggers back under the weight of the blow, looking at Drang with fury and hatred. He regains his footing and arcs his blade to slash at the bugbear - nicking him and hardly doing anything as the mass of fur and muscle before him looks to tear them apart for funsies. Feyjin then summons a little spectral jello with googly eyes - sending it to tear the leader a new one. The force of the strike nearly manages to knock him down, but he grits his teeth and stays up. Drang laughs, not mirthfully, but with the absolute confidence of someone about to kill someone.

The one standing near the back of the group aims his crossbow at Feyjin and fires, Feyjin quickly flips the firing assailant the bird as it misses her, keeping quick on her toes. Drang bats a second bolt out of the air with his greatsword as Feyjin proceeds to flip a secondary bird in malice. The final figure takes aim at Drang with his crossbow and fires twice, much like his friend did. Feyjin quickly downs a phial of anti-venom, noticing the sickly green coating that is getting smeared into the bugbear's fur. She then once again turns Cuebert the Murder-Jello onto the leader. The leader’s eyes widen as he is briefly enveloped by Cuebert. He yells out as the acid of the murder jello stings at his flesh before he manages to pull away. He glares at Feyjin, but said glare is undercut by how injured he clearly is. Feyjin softly smiles at the Leader in pure malice, unfazed by their anger.

Drang takes a step forward, looking to finish this rogue leader, he over-extends his second swing, burying the sword in the building just above his head.

The leader of the group, on his last legs, finally manages to come to the conclusion that he stands literally no chance. Instead of fighting back, he takes the opportunity to drop his weapon and… beg for his life. Upon seeing this, the other two immediately turn tail to run. “Hey- Hey, there’s no need to kill me, okay? I’ll tell you whatever you want, just don’t kill me! I got a kid to feed.” He shuffles around for his pocket and pulls out a locket that features a kid who looks vaguely like him. “You win.” The kids does bear something of a resemblance to him. It’s certainly possible that he’s being truthful.

Drang grabs him by the throat and holds him up against the building with one arm “Where is reylendors father?” The man gurgles from the force being applied to his neck. He gestures to his pocket. “Khh… I was told to not… t-to tell anyone… khh- about this…

Feyjin keeps her demeanor cold, having little patience for the man who had openly attacked her and her companion. "Gently, Drang. We wouldn't want to make another one of the children here an orphan. If he starts breaking apart I don't want to waste my magic on fixing his throat."

Drang snarls, a flicker of his past in his strength and voice, “You have 4 seconds before I breaks your neck and give your child a chance at a better life without your miserable shadows over them.”

Feyjin looks to the man pinned to the wall, dusting herself off as Drang gives his warning, "Well, if you want to remain corporeal... I would suggest thinking twice about not telling. I can always force your corpse to talk."

”In my- khh, pocket. I was just told to find his dad. Rough him up a bit. We weren’t going t-to kill him, I swear.”

"Much better. Drang, hold him still."

Looking at the way this man trembles and recalling the shoddiness of his fighting technique, Feyjin wonders why someone would hire people so unprofessional to get a job done. Surely a city like this has people who at least know know how to hold a blade properly.

Drang continues to cut off the assassin's airway, “Talk...I SAID TALK, WORM!”

Feyjin searches the thief's pocket while the scrawny man bleats.

”I already told you. It was a- a halfling like her. A man. He’s the one who told us to find that kid’s dad. We haven’t found him yet! I- khh, don’t know where either of them are, I swear!” In his pocket Feyjin finds ten silver and a folded piece of parchment. When she unfolds it, she see scribbles describing a wood elf man with tan skin and brown hair: his name is Ilican Aspenmorrow, noted father of Reylendor Aspenmorrow.

Drang's grip tightens,k refusing to look at this situation kindly, “I don’t believe you.”

The man starts to babble, ”He- He said he sells tea, but I can’t find the bastard anywhere and we checked every damn street corner! That’s all I fucking know!”

Feyjin puts an arm on Drang. "Thank you for being so compliant, sir. And... just a warning - If I find you near any of the Aspenmorrows... I will personally see to it that I get to watch your corpse melt in Cuebert over there." Her eyes turn starry, the warmth of the alley suddenly becoming unforgiving cold as the murder-jello jiggles menacingly. The man shivers and does his best to avoid Feyjin’s gaze. Fine- Fine! I wouldn’t have even taken this job if he knew the guy had friends like you. That’s everything I know. Now, you’re gonna let me go, right?”

Feyjin smiles, unfazed by the bitter cold. "I'll let my charming friend Drang decide."

Trusting Feyjin's judgement, Drang starts to release the man, “I guess we can let this——-“ until the Slaat splits the man's head in half.

“”UHHHHHHH” Drang begins to scream and yell at the Slaat in this alleyway, the corpse falling like a ragdoll to the floor.

Feyjin looks a little appalled by the Slaat's action, avoiding the corpse. "I'm not wasting my diamond on him. Put him in a garbage or compost heap and be done with it. We have other pressing matters at hand, Drang. We may be meeting Reylendor's origin of misery... Father Mel. We must find the Aspenmarrows before they do.”

Feyjin's words fall on deaf ears as Drang continues to have a one-sided conversation with the Slaat, “No, n—no you can’t just do that, I AM the one in controls. No I’m not—no I’m not arguing that with you. NO IM NOT ARGUING THAT WITH YOU.”

As the words ‘Father Mel’ leave Feyjin’s lips, the world around Drang warps. The brick walls become white, faintly glowing trees. The sky turns from blue to dark, and purple lightning lashes the sky. The bugbear feels his consciousness itself throb as it tries to keep him grounded… but it can’t. He's pulled from this world to the place just beyond the city. Before he knows it, he is standing in an open grove with pearlescent grass. He is alone, except for a semi-transparent cat who stares up at you and tilts its head in curiosity.

Feyjin, watches as it appears as though Drang has blipped out of existence. One second he was there, the next he wasn’t.

"Drang-" Feyjin watches as Drang blips out of existence. "Oh f*ck. Well, this is a problem. Sh*t... what am I going to do..." Feyjin starts to panic. She recognizes that this happened as soon as she said the words “Father Mel”. The name seemed to act as a trigger for whatever just happened to Drang. Either he was ejected from Reylendor’s soul, or he was pulled somewhere else.

Drang, after getting transported elsewhere, lands in what looks like a section of the feywilds. “Oh yeah sure, I bet you can talk too huh,” referring to the talking rabbit back at home.

Feyjin, after using the connection between her and the bugbear, can feel that Drang isn’t truly gone from Reylendor’s soul. As she focuses on the connection, she can feel that it’s almost like he’s still standing right beside her but more-so as though he’s just beyond a mirror, but she can’t quite make out his reflection. The halfling feels that should she try to push beyond the barrier, it might mean abandoning her objective in the city.

Recent Events:

The Anger of Xanzith-Dian:

After both versions of Hugo clarion had delved into Feyjin's soul-scape, the Starlight Dragon Xanzith-Dian had taken action to put protective measures in place to dissuade trespassers from coming and going from Feyjin's Inner Sanctum. However, this came at the unforeseen cost that Feyjin's demeanor had turned cold, and angry. Hugo Prime, Reylendor, and (somehow) Drang had ventured back into Feyjin's soul to find a solution to this issue. When they returned, Doxx took an account from them - and wrote down this:

Tales from Home:

WULVRIC FINDS HIS BRIDE

(Retold by Feyjin recently during a starry night at her new home at the PotP):

Feyjin takes a steadying breath, remembering the story that she used to beg for every summer festival. Her fingers maneuvered the lights according to the story, the constellations a little different, but close enough.

"It was during the first years of the village. Our homeland was still very young, and my people had barely scraped through their first winters and had finished the spring planting for the community. Among them was a good-natured halfling by the name of Wulvric Marshwillow - the tallest halfling in the world. Now, he was a bit of a trouble-maker - and I could go on forever about the adventures he'd get into, but the best one is how he met his wife."

She changed the glittering of the stars again, showing images of the forest, "Wulvric was out in the nearby woods, collecting timbers for the baker's oven one late autumn. Among the woods, he spotted a fair group of large folk, covered in furs and carrying spears among all other sorts of brutish weapons. They looked beastly, their skin green or olive in color and teeth like a sabercat. And among those people, was the prettiest lady he ever saw. She was tough, scarred, but fairer in his eyes than even the most beautiful of elven queens. He went right up to them, being none the wiser, and demanded to know her name.

The female, of course, picked him up by the scruff of his neck and tossed him out of her way and went on her business, which at the time was a massive boar."

Feyjin smiled at the goofy images, continuing, "By whatever fate of luck or fortune, the orc party had been delayed in their search for their boar, spending more days then ever expected to be in the woods. But Wulvric would come to the woods every day, finding and asking the fair she-orc for her name, and get his ass tossed out. Eventually it got to the point that the she-orc had stopped tossing him away and letting him tail along, his eyes for tracks almost as good as any Orc tracker in her cadre. She grew fond of the halfling's antics, and finally gave her name after almost two weeks - Khal-Rina, She-Chieftain of the Red-Tusks. The cadre and Wulvric eventually came back to the village together, allowing the tribesman to restock to continue the hunt. Wulvric eventually was brought on as a native tracker, and spent much time with the cadre and their She-Chieftain.

They grew close, and after some time - it was Wulvric who caught the boar, nearly being gored in the process as he made it stampede itself into the sharpened bough of a sturdy tree. The She-Chieftain was surprised, but let him have it - saying it was his trophy, and she'd have to leave to try for another in a land far, far west. Wulvric was so distraught with the thought of her leaving to never return that he beseeched that she be his bride for none fairer maiden had such skill and prowess that made him chase so desperately to defeat something that terrified him all for just her name. He offered the boar as a engagement gift, admitting that he had become so thoroughly smitten for her that if she had told him to lie down and beg at that very moment, he would. But the fair Khal-Rina smiled, picked him up by the scruff of his neck, and carried him with her back home to be wed. It is by far the oddest pairing in our books. But the story is just the best." She chuckles, the stars twinkling in the image of a very, very short man and a tall muscled woman before the illusion falls.