"Ophala tells me you are leaving us soon." the draconic words drifted through the incense filled room gracefully, blending with the calm and meditative atmosphere rather than cutting through it.
The young woman sitting within the hazy cloud opened her eyes and turned to look up toward smiling, curvy, stooping woman with the steel grey streak through her hair. The other woman was setting down a bundle of folded clothes. She smiled politely and answered in a musical, sibilant tone as she stood to her full height and stretched out. The smoky incense left the room feeling comfortable warm, almost like lying in the sun.
A low, magical light filtered dimly through the hazy hair, reflecting off the woman's lightly scaled skin highlighting the coloring shift from the copper-green on her arms and legs to the bronze-gold of her central body. Her long hair hung freely in its gradience of green to crimson, cascading to off her shoulders to her back.
"Zundaerazylym, thank you. And, yes, I have offered my services to a band of adventurers."
"Might I ask what is encouraging your farewell to the Moonstone Mask? I'm aware that Gulnan's legacy is barely more than a hundred years ago."
"No, none have accused me of starting a necromantic snake cult. It is just..." She paused searching for the proper words. "There is something I feel I must find."
"The Tail of the Cat..." the plump woman said, sitting down as the younger one collected the folded clothing and started to dress.
"Hmm?"
"It is something another of your family said to me maybe two hundred years ago. The road swishes this way and that like the tail of a cat, and none of you can resist a cat."
The young woman laughed in response and fastened her belt over her robes. "She is very warm to lie next to."
"I'm not sure the furry sort appreciate just how enjoyable it can be to lie upon or against something hot," the grey-haired woman agreed with a wide smile before she turned serious again. "Take care of yourself little cousin."
"Are dragons really cousins to yuan-ti?" the young woman smiled as she started bind up her hair, holding it in place with a long sharpened hairpin.
"Are we not all cousins to each other? At least distantly. So what manner of quest have you taken upon yourself?"
"So far we have united a little boy with his dog and dissuaded a small group of peons with little better to do than laugh at the misfortune of others. But we'll be driving some mining equipment down to Phandalin for a miner tomorrow."
The laundress nodded. "A reasonably safe trip, but who knows what may happen? I wish you glory and success in your endeavors. And I hope you've learned as much about laundry from me as you have companionship from everyone else."
"I know my folds and knots, certainly." She smiled as she spoke.
It was little more than a day since she'd left Neverwinter and quit her lodgings at the Moonstone Mask and now she was sitting in a cave across from a pack of bandits who glared at them while holding their employer hostage. Sildar stared at them silently with an understandable clear amount of anxiety in his face as the bandit leader, a goblin named Yeemik sharpened his scimitar noisily.
Beside her Ravyn had come around and was now recuperating beside the other two of her party. That was well. She had feared the injuries were more severe. Lyra had also been exhausted, using a great amount of her sorcerous power in eliminating most of the bandits that had ambushed them when they had investigated the dead horses and then more power in the assault on the cave. Thankfully, Yeemik was willing to give them some time to rest.
As to why, apparently the bandits weren't unified. Yeemik wanted his rival eliminated, apparently a bugbear by the name of Klarg.
So soon they would be facing another battle crossing that bridge. Hopefully they'd be able to stay above the stream and the manufactured floods this time. Mythram slept as far out of view as possible, a deeper point of darkness in the general shadows of the pit, ironically hidden in the shadows cast by the goblins' fire.
"Where's your sword?" Yeemik asked.
"Hmm?"
"You dress as a warrior, but I don't see your sword."
"Maybe I don't use a sword?"
"Don't see an axe or mace or club either. I see a whip, but you don't look like a slave-driver to me."
"I'm rather the opposite of such a thing."
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