Legend of Ransera

Wet, humid, green hell… Ecith.
A jungle glistening with life, but it was fueled by decay, disease, and worse, magic. The girl, Eyla had practically stayed sick their entire stay with fevers and maladies of the stomach, her acclimation to Drathera a slow and difficult one, no doubt further hampered by her affliction via dragonshard.
Myles had done what he could to care for her, but it was a task constantly impeded by language barriers, being questioned on his ability to care for her, and the constant offers of adoption the Orkhan seemed to think was something that would not offend anyone. He’d learned a fair bit of their culture in his time in Drathera but much of it felt… contradictory, for all their might, the people of Drathera seemed to entirely eschew any forms of technology or progress, made further strange by there grasp of arts and mathematics, something he had not expected from them. If it was from contentedness, or spite for the empire he was unsure, but he found the lack of the trappings of more refined society disturbing in the face of the organization and civility the people tended to display.
Finding work and odd jobs to cover their meager expenses in drathera had been another headache, having to first prove to any potential employers he was an adult, even in spite of the scruffy beard he was slowly growing, his face hadn’t seen a razor in over a month he reckoned.
Maintaining his armor in the dim light of the Ecithian morning Myles fastidiously rubbed oil into the cracks and creases in his armor to keep out the perpetual humidity that wished to erode his gear. Eyla Slept soundly nearby, her last fever had broken the night prior and he’d been able to get her to eat enough the previous day that he felt confident today would be the day that the set out for the mighty stairs of Drathera.

It had taken the swallowing of much pride, but Myles could not see himself healing Eyla without the help of a god or something adjacent to one, and healing her had become the foremost mission is his life, his anchor to give him purpose. Donning his gear and battle worn breastplate, Myles belted on his sword, the corroded length of steel, still pockmarked with the magic that had arced out from the dragonshard on Eyla’s brow in Zaichaer. Now ready for the day Myles quietly ate on jerky and dried fruit watching what little diffused light could make it through the ever present rainclouds that hammered the city with and endless deluge of water. Eyeing the makeshift umbrella woven from large leaves and tar, Myles sighed, wishing the implement had not become a part of daily life, and yet, here he was.
Stooping low next to the cot that Eyla slept on Myles gently shook her shoulder tell her one baleful eye came to look at him. “good morning Eyla, still feeling better?” A quick nod was her only response. Helping her to sit up Myles sat some fresher bread and fruit before her for breakfast. As she hate myles slowly worked an ivory comb through her long blonde locks, something he’d been doing for her more and more often since they’d been in Ecith, it seemed to him that the constant wetness did not agree with her fair and wavy hair.

“we’ll be climbing those stairs I’ve been talking about today, so you’d best eat up as much as you can this morning, I imagine this is going to be an exhausting day.”

In due time the two set out into the waterlogged city heading for the stairs. As the approached them Myles heart sank as he watched roll down the stairs like a forty five degree waterfall with no top as the stairs climbed into the rain and clouds well beyond visibility.

Before the great stairs of Drathera, Jarkors tail, or whatever the natives called it, loomed. Looking up into the sky Myles could not see the top for the rain that fell upon them, a sense of dread filled him as he stared at the obstacle before him, the little hand clasped in his own reminding him that it was not just his own life at stake in this endeavor, and that stalled him, his confidence in getting the two of them too the top wavering as reality brooded in his thoughts.



As he stood there, he noticed the approach an old woman of a height great enough that Myles imagined that before age had hunched her over she would have been as tall as some of the greater mortallen, for even leaned on her cane she was taller than he.
“you are… wise to balk… traveler” the woman spoke slowly and with a heavy accent. “I see many would be traveler broken upon stairs, even when seasons good. Season not good, if you climb maybe one make it, likely neither… bad gamble to take if both live is goal.” Looking up at the old woman who still had him fixed with her baleful gaze. “I don’t have many choices left, the three at the peak may have the cure we need”“May?” Myles nodded “I.. I don’t know if any better ideas are out there.” Shaking her head at Myles the woman said, you strong, but only strong for one, you need be strong for two,” with a soft thud the woman cracked her cane against Myles brow. “You like ecith child, big muscle and quick decision, but no planning, only swing at dark and hoping to hit. Need know what swing for”

Chewing his lip Myles tolerated the lecture bitterly accepting the truth in the woman’s no nonsense tone. He knew a mother when he’d seen one, arrested enough unruly youths and taken them to their own mothers to know a look scolding look bellied by compassion. He didn’t know this woman but it was impossible to be mad knowing that she was speaking out of concern, if bluntly.

“then what would you do?” he asked, an edge of exasperation creeping into his voice earning him a squeeze on the hand from Eyla who looked at him nervously, Smiling back as reassuringly as he could manage he let some of his tension seep from him in a slow breath.

“Eat good food, sleep good night, and think in morning, and if still think only have one choice, me hit with stick tell you learn ask for help also choice”
Standing beneath the rain under the eternal umbral grasp of the eclipse Myles nodded, “Ok” with no further words the woman turned on her heel and began walking away casting a look over her shoulder that asked, well you coming? With nary a word said.

Accepting the wisdom offered and hoping this old orc had more advice to offer him that might lead to the girls recovery Myles followed after her Eyla’s hand still in his, her presence offering him continued purpose when Zaichaer could no longer.

Following the woman away from the stairs away from his goal Myles frowned knowing that he had failed his goal for the day without ever trying, the soldier in him barked, this is no retreat, only a moment to regroup, but he knew the scent of inadequacy no matter how it was perfumed. As the path narrowed Myles stooped and let Eyla climb unto his back so he could ferry her through the thick mud that the constant rain proliferated. Still there was beaty in the dark jungle. Where there should be darkness many plants produced light, where fear should reign even the environment bolstered its inhabitants with courage. Strange were the lands of Ecith where the very earth reaches up to comfort it’s weary children. It was if not for his present concern for Eyla blinding him to all good things in the world he could not truly appreciate the environment he’d found himself within. Following the matronly orc as she plodded through the forest, the sound she made seemed to reverberate through the forest a “plod plod thunk, plod plod thunk. Every step punctuated b the hollow sound of her cane. It was then that Myles realized the woman was not wet even in the constant downpour. The rain seemed to bead and bounce off the woman with no ability to stick whatsoever, even her foot steps sounded dry.
As Myles pondered what manner of magic he was witnessing he failed to see the large Tavern they’d been led to. Without so much as a word she strode up the stairs and opened the door with a familiar authoritative force of someone who wanted command of the room on entry. She didn’t seem to even bother to look back as if she either didn’t care if they were following after her, or she had absolute confidence that they would. Following Her into the Tavern Myles squinted as he entered the well lit room from the were light outside. Already behind the bar was the old orc woman noisily preparing two large plates, and mugs at the bar were she’d already ordained they would be sitting. Having resigned himself to hearing her out on whatever it was she wanted from him Myles approached.