Chapter Eight

Deo duce ferro comitante

“Where are we supposed to be going?” Amarella asked, from within a tumultuous, crowded forum inside of the walled city called The Roost. There were dragons of all shapes and sizes walking around within the city limits. Some of the residents looked at the traveling heroes with disgust, some with interest some even would bump into them intentionally in the busy streets.

“We are to find the Order of the Storm.” Darella answered as she peered into the crowd, her enchanted circlet picking thoughts out of the air like a leaf in the breeze.

“There are ones here who wish harm upon the city’s queen, there are whispers of an assassination.” Darella said pointedly, the thoughts of shadier dragons still echoing in her head.

“Yeah-yeah, we’ll take care of that when we are done with that one guy, Sarconis.” Leomourn said.

“We shall, but yes after the task at hand.” Delgen said.

“Now how do we find the Order of the Storm?” Leomourn asked, just then a tall figure approached. The figure was dressed in fine silks and steel, a purple cloud was embroidered upon his vestments over his heart.

“Greetings, I am Braxon. You are new in town.” The figure said, pulling his hood back revealing the fact that he was a human male.

“You’re human.” Leomourn said.

“Yes, I am. The Roost is indeed a city of dragons, but there are some of us two-leggers around. The Silver Hearts see to our protection, we just have to steer clear of the Black Talons.” The man said, smiling.

“We are in the business of meeting some important individuals in this great town who go by the name of the Order of the Storm, I have taken note of the sigil upon your cloth, pray you could point us in the right way?” Delgen said.

“Order of the Storm? What business would you have with them might I ask?” Braxon inquired.

“I apologize friend, but that business is our own.” Delgen said.

“Understandable, well I am a Misting as I assume you are. I will show you where the order is.” Braxon said, as he turned and implied that they should follow him.

“Misting?” Amarella asked timidly.

“Where are you from, may I ask? You claim you have business with the Order, but know not of the Mistings?” Braxon looked back.

“Forgive us, we have traveled far and have only recently became informed of the Order, but are on strict command of finding them.” Delgen said.

“Very well, a Misting is an individual hopeful of joining the Order. You must prove to the chapter house your worthiness, create an opus and complete a favor for the order before receiving the benediction.” Braxon said.

“Right.” Leomourn said, Braxon had lead them to a door deep within the stone draconic city. The Misting stopped and granted them entrance to a sturdy edifice and they entered.

Chapter Eight

The Flame of Time gabrielegandrake