Situated at the edge of Kingswood Forest, The Stone Dragon tavern is on the border of the King's control. Consequently, it is a hotspot for outlaws and law-abiding citizens alike. A number of secret rooms, doors and passages enable outlaws to hide or make a quick getaway whenever the King's men come swooping in. As there is also an inn here, this is also a popular place for temporary travellers and explorers.
temporary residents
Faeyra
Zohar
Nine
Kaito
Evelyn
Paris
permanent residents
Jacopo, under house arrest
Olive
Alder
Cypress
Effie
Torram
Renn
Nerissa
Sapphire
employees
Olive, Owner
Renn, Bar Staff/Waitress
Jacopo, Gardener
Nine, Bar Staff/Waitress
Zohar, Stable Hand
Paris, Bar Staff
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Bar: Fairies can drink and be merry in this pub-style bar.
Inn: A comfortable place for temporary or permanent residents to stay.
Stables: The stables offer a variety of pens for different animals while their owners are staying in the inn.
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Warning: swearing, strong references to death, strong references to sexual assault
thoth we spend all our time running for our lives, going nowhere
They hadn’t had long before Jacopo came to find them. Feeling a touch guilty that his erstwhile wish for a premature end to the party had come true, Thoth had renewed his promise more than once to come and collect her after work the next day before leaving Cypress with him. Night had fallen, with only the tip of the slim crescent moon and the occasional star peeking out from behind the clouds, so it felt safe to remain in fairy form. No one looking out of the windows would be able to recognise him in the dim light, especially from the back. Shrugging his shoulders against the night chill, he slipped quietly out among the trees, absent-mindedly following his feet.
Birch was back from the dead. That fact alone was like a stunning slap to the face, since it raised so many other questions – not least about the impossibility of such a feat – but the family’s varied reactions also required consideration. Cypress and Jacopo had been the only ones who had not converged immediately on the revived woman. Cypress’s face had held an expression Thoth couldn’t quite read, but her immediate inclination to flee the scene was telling of emotions which weren’t entirely positive. Thoth didn’t need to guess at what those emotions might be; he too had recently experienced the revival of a deceased and estranged parent.
Without consciously making the decision to, he changed direction. A childhood of familial neglect and isolation from his peers had given him years of time to explore large parts of Shaman, and having lived in the forest for months he now knew it like the back of his hand. He scrambled over a freshly fallen tree, ducked under a low-hanging branch – he could barely see it, but he knew it was there – and stopped before a twisted oak tree, its ancient trunk wizened and knotted. The hole at about eye-level was almost invisible in the darkness; he had to probe with his fingers until they gave way. Reaching inside, he closed his hand over the cool, flat object within and tugged it out, holding it in his hand. The eight-point star gleamed up at him in metallic silver and white, appearing to glimmer with a light of its own. The thin black cord it was attached to had grown stiff and faintly green over time. Thoth brushed a few bits of moss and bark from the metal pendant with his thumb and tilted it so it shone in the soft moonlight.
If Birch could come back from the dead, that meant it must be possible for other people to do so. Only one person could answer that question. Thoth slipped the pendant into his pocket and turned back towards camp.
Life in the rebel camp was a full-time job in itself. Every day saw a new challenge for survival as the unkempt band of outlaws sought to find food and water, create or steal medicine, avoid predators and enemies, keep their horses and familiars safe, train, spy, sabotage… usually with limited, if any, resources. There was no doctor in camp, so Thoth had spent most of the afternoon seeing to the injuries some other campers who had gotten into a bad scrape with a bear. He was the most familiar with broken bones, so he’d had little choice but to direct with the splinting and bandaging, although he’d kept his teeth gritted the entire time. The bear had not survived the encounter.
At least he’d been relieved from watch early, and wrapped up the medical attentions sooner than he would have finished the former. He slipped away before he had to overhear the inevitable discussion of the best way to skin a bear. Shifting into wolf form, he flew on light paws through the forest, revelling in his sharper senses. He’d be early, but that was alright. Following Cypress around while she finished up her duties was better than gagging on the smell of roasting meat.
Thoth had always had a hard time using his other powers while in wolf form. The dogs were barking loudly as he trotted up to the kennels, but their words were muddied into rough sounds. It didn’t take a polylingualist to work out that they were agitated, though. He broke into a run, skidding to a halt by the kennel doors – which were shut – and scraped pointedly at them. There was no response. Maybe Cypress couldn’t hear him over the dogs? Thoth glanced over his shoulder briefly, determined he’d be safe if he was quick, and shifted back into a fairy. He shoved the handle down forcefully, zipped inside and snapped the door shut behind him. Now he was no longer in wolf form, the dogs’ woofs became words as his ears adjusted to their language.
“Help! Help!” One was barking repeatedly.
“Bad, bad!” Another agreed. “Bad man! Bad!”
A muffled shout in English directed his attention to a door which presumably led to a supply cupboard. Other than the dogs, the kennel was empty. His heart pounding in his throat, Thoth crossed the room and flung the door open. He stood frozen for a moment, not quite able to process the scene in front of him.
It was the kennel master who recovered first. “Piss off if you know what’s good for you,” he snarled, reaching for the door handle.
The veil of shock lifted, replaced by a cascade of red. Thoth wasn’t precisely sure where all the water came from or how it had managed to get there so quickly. The waterfall resembled a bursting dam, flooding the small chamber almost to the ceiling and washing its entire contents out into the kennels. Everyone, including most of the dogs, were knocked off their feet. Cypress and the kennel master had been separated, which – Thoth reasoned much later, when he sat down with a clearer head and tried to piece together a sequence of events – might have been his aim, if he’d been thinking rationally enough to have one. He staggered to his feet, dripping. The kennel master was already up. He grabbed Thoth by one arm and started to growl something, his teeth bared in a manner no one could mistake for a grin. Thoth closed his right hand into a fist, curling his thumb over his fingers the way Mace had taught him, and punched the guy right in the jaw. Something cracked – from the burst of agony shooting up his limb, Thoth guessed it was his hand – and the kennel master, his balance already precarious with a foot of water lapping at his legs, toppled backwards. His head hit a metal post with a nasty bang and he slipped under the water, sinking like a stone. Some of the clear liquid around his head began to turn crimson.
The temptation to leave the guy to drown was strong. Thoth gritted his teeth as he reached down with his left hand and yanked the guy up by his collar into a sitting position, head lolling. Not dead, just unconscious. Careful to avoid using his right hand, which was throbbing painfully, he dumped the evil man unceremoniously against the post and splashed his way over to Cypress. He dropped to his knees and wrapped both arms around her in a tight hug.
It was a few moments before he became vaguely aware that the dogs had switched from their celebratory barking to a grim silence. One of them whimpered, in a far corner. Thoth pulled back a little from Cypress and twisted round to see a pair of penetrating blue eyes contemplating him from a grey, shadowy corner.
“What,” Aura breathed, her knuckles whitening where they gripped her scythe, “what – ”
Words failed her, apparently. They seldom failed Thoth, but on this occasion he found himself in sympathy.