Arc 720, 38th of Vhalar
The wooden planks of the Havardr docks clattered noisily as Darius landed upon them. The leather boots that he wore were scuffed and tired, having carried his footsteps across many locales. The cold that greeted him in Havardr was not unknown to him. Although he had not visited the village before, he was a proud Scalvorian, and so it carried a sense of familiarity that wasn't too distant from what he felt when he landed at Scalvoris Town.
The stark cold of the settlement did not affect the captain of the Libertalia in the same way that it did his crew. He was a FireForged, and neither the heat nor the cold held him in their grips quite so tightly any more. He caught the glimpses of a few locals and the gambeson he wore in the Zi'da cold, but he paid them no heed. Although the crew of the Libertalia had pulled their thick coats tightly around themselves, their captain had not.
As Darius stepped onto land and began to survey the collection of yurts that made up Havardr, the shrill cry of an airborne hawk - unheard by anyone else - reached his ears. Dark grey eyes turned skyward, and he saw Katara circling overhead, her flaming feathers leaving a trail of smoke in their wake. She let out another cry, and the human nodded, feeling a little safer with an extra set of protective eyes watching over him.
He looked over the settlement once more. The had come to Havardr in the hope of helping the recovery effort, but the yurts did not lend themselves to his most familiar of skills: woodworking. It mattered little, for he was already there, and his oath to Faldrass - and his commitment to Isonomia - compelled him to make himself useful in some other way.
He paused for a few trills, contemplating which yurt to approach first, before he heard a clamor of voices. Turning, he saw one such building with an overflow of people, and decided to approach. As he neared the group, the indistinguishable hubbub became clearer, and individual voices began to distinguish themselves.
Darius slowed his approach, then asked a man near the entrance what was going on.
"Breachfang is back, 'e is, and 'e's 'ungry," said a man who looked as though he had more eyes than teeth. "Ate a couple fellas some trials back. People is upset. There's talk of a 'unting expedition."
Darius nodded quietly at the information, though he didn't know what the man was talking about. There was still plenty of discussion coming from inside the yurt. The toothless man craned his neck in an attempt to peer inside.
"Who is 'Breachfang'?" the blond mariner asked somebody else who stood nearby.
The stark cold of the settlement did not affect the captain of the Libertalia in the same way that it did his crew. He was a FireForged, and neither the heat nor the cold held him in their grips quite so tightly any more. He caught the glimpses of a few locals and the gambeson he wore in the Zi'da cold, but he paid them no heed. Although the crew of the Libertalia had pulled their thick coats tightly around themselves, their captain had not.
As Darius stepped onto land and began to survey the collection of yurts that made up Havardr, the shrill cry of an airborne hawk - unheard by anyone else - reached his ears. Dark grey eyes turned skyward, and he saw Katara circling overhead, her flaming feathers leaving a trail of smoke in their wake. She let out another cry, and the human nodded, feeling a little safer with an extra set of protective eyes watching over him.
He looked over the settlement once more. The had come to Havardr in the hope of helping the recovery effort, but the yurts did not lend themselves to his most familiar of skills: woodworking. It mattered little, for he was already there, and his oath to Faldrass - and his commitment to Isonomia - compelled him to make himself useful in some other way.
He paused for a few trills, contemplating which yurt to approach first, before he heard a clamor of voices. Turning, he saw one such building with an overflow of people, and decided to approach. As he neared the group, the indistinguishable hubbub became clearer, and individual voices began to distinguish themselves.
Darius slowed his approach, then asked a man near the entrance what was going on.
"Breachfang is back, 'e is, and 'e's 'ungry," said a man who looked as though he had more eyes than teeth. "Ate a couple fellas some trials back. People is upset. There's talk of a 'unting expedition."
Darius nodded quietly at the information, though he didn't know what the man was talking about. There was still plenty of discussion coming from inside the yurt. The toothless man craned his neck in an attempt to peer inside.
"Who is 'Breachfang'?" the blond mariner asked somebody else who stood nearby.