Rhienn of Dhal Mesh
Screams filled the sky as the beach descended into chaos. While her first instinct was to run, Rhienn’s legs gave out underneath her and she could only gaze at the demons burning with internal fire as they swept through the air, bringing ruin with flame and fang.
Flame and fang.
This had happened to her once before in a dream.
Flame and fang.
Even as the memory clung to the recesses of her mind it eluded her as dreams often do. The moment she could grasp it the image would drift away, tantalizingly out of reach like the sweet smoke from the pipe her master often puffed as she meditated.
Fleeting shadows chased by flame and fang trace a path of broken shells…
But as Rhienn searched her mind for the answer, her eyes were caught by a strange yellow light. From the trees of the forest it floated lazily, like a falling leaf carried by a cool night breeze she remembered several summers ago. Rheinn could not take her eyes off of the light. She would have mistaken it for a forest wisp but as it passed her she could make out the form of a pale moth.
There was something peaceful about its presence. Serene. Otherworldly. Perhaps even divine. Time came to a stand-still as it came bobbing downward, fluttering gently amidst the chaos. Not a head nor an eye among the cultists turned to follow its path except those of the fire-breathing woman. until it came to rest on the hilt of a sword the jutted out from the pile of supplies.
What a beastly weapon it was, not made of stone nor of forged ore. Its hilt was decorated with massive bronze scales and tufts of fur. A giant claw of a great beast was sharpened to form its curved blade of immense length. A true monster hunter’s weapon, design to cleave the very creatures it was forged from.
The pale moth fluttered its wings one last time before the body of a cultist running past obscured it and it was no longer there.
And like that the moment was over.
The clamor of battle resounded once more as the young girl tried to make sense of what was happening here. A waking dream? An omen? A sign from one of the Savage Gods, one of a different aspect?
The child seer narrowed her eyes as she followed the winged beasts. Their scales seemed as volcanic rock, veined with the pulsing heat of molten earth. They did not follow one leader but swarmed together, breaking against the mass of fleeing cultists as waves crash against the shore. Here and there, some broke off from the group to instead attack those unfortunate sacrifices who were yet burning.
The path forward became ever so slightly clearer.
Rhienn of Dhal Mesh rose to her feet and breathed a plea into existence.
"Hear me o' condemned sacrifices!” She intoned into the air. “We cannot stay here, lest the legion of firespawn turn their baleful eyes upon us. We must away from this place while they nip at the heels of our captors and let Fate guide us forward! We make to the South!"
She reached out with her mind towards a strong soul, the beastwoman with wolven features.
O warrior, I have found your weapon.