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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Xorn" data-source="post: 4365982" data-attributes="member: 61231">Vrax sipped from his glass of wine impatiently, and looked over at the door to the Wrafton Inn again.  The light from the skies outside had dwindled away and fallen to the night sky an hour ago, and there was no news of the adventurers that left the town walls right before the wizard had arrived, towing the makeshift plank stretcher with the wounded guards behind him on the magical porter disc.  The halfling merchant, Piddleteet had made good on his promise of payment, even putting in a good word for the wizard with the local lord warden of the town, and seeing what he could find out from his contacts about the man Vrax was looking for, Douven.The little man had returned quickly, confirming that the human ex-adventurer turned scholar that had raised Vrax from infancy had set off to the south of Winterhaven, convinced that he had found the burial site of an ancient dragon.  He had been regularly stopping in the town every evening, claiming to be closer each time to his big find, and even spoke with the town sage, who lived in a dominating tower in the center of the walled village.  That was how the summons had been delivered to his adopted son; an messaging ritual.  But when Vrax sent a reply, he discovered that his father had not returned for several days.While that wasn’t alarming in and of itself, as his father often went on expeditions, the fact that he had not at least checked to see if Vrax had replied had been a misgiving to the dragonborn.  Upon arriving in Winterhaven, Piddleteet had gotten him an audience with the Lord Warden, a man everyone just called Padraig.  He was a man with a great presence about him, and wore a sword belt with a sheathed longsword that had the wear and tear of a weapon that had seen use—not some ornamental bauble worn to impress.  To oversee a frontier town like Winterhaven, blustering and bravado would not do much good against the encroaching darkness of the evil beyond their patrols.Lord Padraig saw Vrax quickly, and told him what he knew of Douven, which was little.  He was a friendly man with a good head about him, which definitely had the drive of a scholar to find the unknown.  They had advised him to not venture alone, and he hired a porter to accompany him, and then three days ago, they didn’t return from the day’s activity.  No one was terribly concerned on the first night, assuming that Douven had found what he was digging for, and likely camped there.  After two nights, there were some questions, but the town could not spare a patrol to wander the wilderness looking for someone that might not be lost.  With the kobold attacks increasing on the road, and getting closer to the city, one man unfortunately wasn’t worth the risk of weakening the town’s defenses.Vrax had nodded complacently at the warden’s explanations—and had expected as much.  Ready to set out immediately to find his adopted father, Lord Padraig had asked the wizard to stay.  His reason was out of concern for his people—with the newcomers venturing out to attack the kobolds in their lair, the Lord betrayed his lack of faith in their ability as he feared retaliation by the kobolds should they fail.  A wizard atop the walls of the town would be a mighty ally, after the stories the men Vrax had brought with him.Admittedly, Vrax needed to rest before risking a journey into the blind wilderness as well—an open, patrolled road was much safer than the dark, untouched places of the wild, even when kobolds attacked the road with frequency.  Additionally, descriptions of the heroes around the inn had intrigued the wizard.  One of them had been described as a tiefling, wearing a suit of blood-red scale armor and holding a jagged greataxe in his thick arms like it was a walking stick.  He had piercing silver eyes, and an icy blue mane of hair that stood out against his light red skin.  He spoke for the assembled group more than the others, and had the confidence of a leader about him.“That sure sounds like my old friend, Daichot.” Vrax had suggested to Padraig, and discovered he was right!When they were young, both of them were often found together at the temple, for they both had a great interest in The Platinum Dragon.  While the tiefling spent more of his time trying to reign in his anger and pursue the ideals of the god of justice and honor, Vrax’s own inclinations were more in line with paying homage to his origins, even if he held great resentment for his own people.  But if Daichot were here, with the travelers that had preceded his arrival, then that meant his old friend was one of the Heroes of Fallcrest!Indeed, Vrax would do better to rest until the heroes returned, then set out to find Douven with them.  While Daichot was never as close to Vrax’s human father as the wizard was, much of the tiefling’s rage was directed into martial pursuits at the temple because of Douven’s subtle nudging and direction.  There was a problem this evening though, as Vrax waited restlessly by the fireplace, warming his thin-skinned body on what most people would call a warm summer night: the heroes had not returned, yet.The robed dragonborn was pulled from his reflection as a human wearing leather armor and a skullcap opened the front doors to the inn, leaning his spear outside against the exterior of the building and striding in, searching for Vrax.  He was one of the guards on duty at the gate, with instructions to inform the wizard the moment the heroes returned to the town.  Vrax rose from his seat uneasily, his joint protesting moving so abruptly after sitting still for hours, and aided the guard in finding him as he held one scaly hand up clear of his robes.Seeing the dragonborn, the guard quietly strode over to him and spoke in a hushed tone; he didn’t want the rest of the customers to hear, Vrax noticed.  “The adventurers you are waiting for, and your friend?” Vrax nodded, eager for news, “They…” the man did not know what words to used, and the wizard’s heart began to sink, “they have not returned, yet.  We are closing the gates for the night.”Vrax stood silently for a moment, rolling over the human’s words, deciding that regardless of what would happen to his plans now, it wouldn’t happen till morning.  He nodded to the guard, and sat down, leaning on the shaft of his spear heavily as he slumped into the chair with disappointment.The guard seeing the dismay on the wizard’s face, tried to offer some measure of hope.  “Maybe—“ he stammered, “maybe they will return in the morning.”Vrax considered the thought, and nodded acceptingly to the guard, though he didn’t feel any hope in the idea.  Tomorrow, Vrax would see the old sage Valthrun one more time, then set out to find the remains of his father, then the remains of his friend.</blockquote>

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