Dragon's Cradle, it was strange to think for all the traveling he had done in recent months, this was the one part of Charon he hadn't been to yet. That was probably why he was a bit eager, perhaps overly eager, to take the job. Recent adventures had also been kind of a strange whiplash for him. The Sultan's Tomb was the biggest mixed bag, he learned a lot out there but most of those lessons came at a serious physical cost.

A cost he was occasionally made to remember as he traveled with Cyran. It was a strange form of survivor's guilt being the only one of the trio to not lose an eye....then again he was also the only one to be chewed on by two snakes. The guilt did lessen with Cyran's continued reassurances, but soft hearts hold on to their wounds for longer than they should it seems.

Thankfully, the two men had a quest ahead of them to turn their focus to rather than worrying about things they no longer had the chance to change. He slowly lead them through the rocky crags of the smokey mountains, an eerily similar locale to where they first met. This time they don't have to look after a panicked researcher which would make this easier. Gerhart comes to a stop at a small ridge overlooking the area, hands resting on the pommels of his blades. 

"You know, woulda been helpful if we had an idea of what cave to look in.  Can't imagine I will have too many tracks to follow in the hard rock."

It had been a while since Cyran ventured out to Dragon’s Cradle. He’d been through these dangerous lands often enough in his travels up to Frostgale, but rarely did work bring him here. These lands were lawless and brutal… not much need for the subtlety of an assassin when lightning or bandits could do the trick just fine. But sometimes life took him in odd directions, and he’d learned it was simply better to follow where it took him. The orphanage didn’t pay for itself, even with the money Astrid left him, and he would take what jobs he could get.

… Well, perhaps not every job.

The ash-rose eyepatch currently settled on the right side of his face was a grim reminder of what happened when he allowed himself to grow careless.

The very same eyepatch that Gerhart still glanced at occasionally as the two traversed the rocky plains of the cradle, guilt evident in his face no matter how he tried to hide it. Each time Cyran felt Gerhart glance at him, he would wave him away with a couple of kind words and assurances that everything was okay. It’s not your fault, and I’m really okay. Cyran knew, of course, that there were no words he could offer to patch that self-inflicted wound in Gerhart’s heart. The younger man had made it his job to care about others, and it was obvious he didn’t take injury well.

The truth was that Cyran could see out of the eye just fine - he just didn’t want to make Gerhart have to see how… strange it had healed back. Cyran hadn’t seen him since they escaped from that wretched place, and he didn’t want to upset Gerhart any more than his appearance already had. During their trek to the caverns, he’d carefully kept himself to Gerhart’s right as to minimize how often he had to see the patch. But now they were getting close to the caves, and he couldn’t keep this up forever. They came to a brief stop at the precipice of a ledge overlooking a sprawling system of caves when Gerhart turned to him, voicing his laments about their lack of leads.

Cyran nodded, still gazing out at the cavern system below. Inwardly, he couldn’t help but be a little frustrated at the lack of direction they’d been given. A couple of locals had pointed them in this direction, but considering villagers were being kidnapped and eaten, there weren’t exactly many survivors left to pinpoint exactly where the dangerous beast had taken refuge. But where Gerhart’s skill at conventional tracking methods failed, Cyran’s enhanced senses came in handy.^[1] The scent was faint, but he could make out traces of blood in the air, where bodies had been dragged and devoured by this beast.

He turned to Gerhart with a small smile, hidden behind his hand. “I think that I can take care of that this time.” He turned to the air once more, closing his eye in an attempt to better pinpoint where the scent was coming from - there. When he opened his eye again, he could see one of the yawning caverns in the distance, perhaps a little less than half a mile away. He pointed it out so that Gerhart could see where it was, as well. “This cave fisher… it’s dragging the bodies that particular cavern, I think. Shouldn’t take us too long to get there.”

The pair resumed walking once more, making their way back around the side of the precipice. Dark storm clouds gathered overhead - the usual weather in this part of Dragon’s Cradle - but did not pour down rain just yet. A perpetual looming darkness, though Cyran tried not to let the gloomy mood linger. Gerhart carried enough guilt for the both of them. It was time to let that go and focus on the future… and the task ahead.

He turned to Gerhart with a small smile. “How have you been holding up?”

---

1. Blood Scent

"For an ambush hunter, it seems somewhat sloppy..." A few noises of exertion were made as they had to parkour down the side of the rock face and over a few escarpments before things evened out again. He scanned the clouds then back down to the terrain ahead of them.

"I wouldn't trust your scent out here...not entirely...Water, especially rain, tends to muddy what you can pick up...spread it out too thin, ya know?" He grins and taps the side of the nose to let Cyran know he had similar skills. Since then he'd also trained his ears and eyes a bit more as well, so finding a good lead shouldn't be too hard. "What has me worried is that we can catch something this far out....usually ambush predators don't stray too far from their place....especially a cave fisher. They sort of lose the whole stealth bit outside the cave."

Another little huff as he climbed the next short hill, "Fine as usual I s'pose...Haven't really done much other than keep to working. Never a shortage of monsters and problems in Charon it seems." He grins as he turns to help pull Cyran up to the next spot.

"I imagine you've been staying busy as well?"

Cyran nodded along while Gerhart explained that simply following the scent of blood wouldn’t suffice, before playfully indicating that Cyran wasn’t the only one between them with sharpened senses. He smiled at the reminder of Gerhart’s superior tracking skills - while Cyran was adept at hunting down others, his experience lie in humans, who had predictable patterns and a rationale that he could easily exploit in the hunt and chase. Monsters like the cave fisher did not move in ways he was familiar with.

“The locals seemed to think this cave fisher was particularly aggressive…” He shrugged, frustrated that he could not provide a better answer. The Dragon’s Cradle was full of beasts that he did not understand. “Or perhaps food is scarce.” This place did seem particularly barren… but then again, Cyran couldn’t be sure. Yet again, he was trying to apply human thought processes to a vicious, cave-dwelling beast.

He could not hide his frown as Gerhart replied with some vague answer about work. He’d expected deflection, and though he knew the answer was an honest one - there was no point in dwelling on one past danger when there were still plenty of threats in Charon that needed taking care of - but he still worried. Gerhart could not keep up an endlessly positive act and shove down thoughts that bothered him forever…

Perhaps it was not his place to meddle, but he and Gerhart had been through enough that Cyran considered him a dear friend. Gerhart had a good soul, a rarity these days. As Cyran roused Yeux from the hood of his cloak, sending the bat to fly around and scope out the nearby caves, Cyran prodded a little further. “Just work? Surely you’ve been up to more than that.” He sincerely hoped that Gerhart was not simply throwing himself from job to job simply to keep himself busy.

“I’ve been working a couple of jobs, yes.” He replied. He wished he could say he’d had time to relax since he and Gerhart had last seen each other, but life seemed to pull him every which way… he looked forward to returning to the day he could return to Darkveil and take a much-deserved rest. "Nothing as interesting as hunting cave monsters, though." 

"Well there could be two explanations, but neither of them are exactly good." Gerhart forgets to expound any further on that slightly ominous note. He heads towards the scent of blood to at least give them a place to start, Cyran could easily spot the hesitation in his steps. A cautious foot moving forward as opposed to the brazen and heavy footfalls of the tomb.

Much to Cyran's chagrin, Gerhart was very practiced at pushing down the bad thoughts and shifting to new topics. Speaking of, one of those topics did appear. The elf beside him would see a large shadow start to drift towards them when suddenly from the sky a giant kestrel would start to divebomb them.

Gerhart smiled and gave a little whistle and the bird put on the brakes to come to a stop and flutter to a landing spot. The young knight laughs gently, jogging over to give him a few beak scritches. "I suppose there have been a few things. Cyran this is Halcyon. There's a breeder in Capitol Landing, makes traveling from The Fighter's Guild and home a lot easier, plus he's pretty good in a fight."

He seems to pause to have a short conversation with the bird giving a little frown. It seemed there was nothing to be spotted from above, but that was expected for a subterranean beast. "Sorry buddy, I think they are gonna be a bit more useful, but this just means you get to hunt." He grins and gives the bird one last scritch before sending it off, watching Yeux head towards the caves.

When they arrived at the first pool of blood, the ranger crouched down to look over what had happened. His eyes scanned over the faint fingernail marks, the menagerie of imprints left by cave fishers, the general chaos of the scene.

"Good news is they are nearby....bad news is I think there's more than one."

Cyran perked up in interest at Gerhart’s vague explanation. He seemed to have some idea of what was going on, but he was so focused on the task at hand, and just as focused on deflecting Cyran’s questions, that he didn’t think to let the older man on what was going through his head right now. But even without words, Cyran saw enough - the hesitance in his step and the set in his jaw as if he believed he could physically leave this train of conversation behind if he walked hard enough.

Unfortunately for Gerhart, just as stubborn as he was at avoiding those dark things he shoved down to never see the light of day, Cyran was at digging at what people tried to avoid. He followed along behind Gerhart, who’d caught the scent of something, trying to find the right words to say.

I just worry you, is all.

I don’t want you to hear everything yourself.

I want to know you’re okay.

But before he could ask anything, a shadow passed overhead, snapping him out of his melancholic mood. Cyran whirled around just in time to see the bird diving for them. Instinct kicked in, memories of the last bird he encountered in Dragon’s Cradle rising to the surface. “Get behind me!” He ordered, drawing out Spell Slicer and Cold Steel, every fiber of his being ready to throw himself into the fight and protect Gerhart -

Until he heard the whistle and glanced behind him, surprised to see that Gerhart didn’t appear to be on guard at all. In fact, he looked happy to see the approaching avian. Cyran’s face flushed, feeling rather silly about his sudden reaction as he sheathed his daggers and followed Gerhart to his animal companion. The kestrel was beautiful, really, perched elegantly while Gerhart scratched his chin and explained how he’d come to acquire such a beautiful mount. But Cyran was only half-listening, eye wide with wonder as he approached slowly. Gerhart might not have known this, but there was one small weakness Cyran possessed that was about to become readily apparent - his utter fondness for birds.

“He’s beautiful.” Cyran muttered, the normally calm expression he wore replaced with one of near-childlike wonder, one that was not often seen on his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of crickets, one he usually reserved as snacks for Yeux on a pinch, but made for good treats for birds. “Is it okay if I feed him, or…?” It was probably the least composed Gerhart had ever seen him - he was lucky that Cyran hadn’t used the puppy-dog talk when speaking to Halcyon, only feeding him crickets if he had Gerhart’s permission. “Such a pretty bird.”

Gerhart sent him back up into the sky while Yeux examined the caves. The bat seemed to find something at the same time Gerhart reached it - the first pool of blood from where a victim had been dragged away. He stayed standing while Gerhart investigated, keeping a hand protectively on Cold Steel in case any cave fisher tried to jump out at them. None did. He frowned when Gerhart mentioned that it was entirely likely there was more than one beast lurking around.

“I suppose that makes sense…” That it was not simply one hungry cave fisher, but many mouths to feed. “Can you tell how many there are?”

"Feed him and he'll be too lazy to hunt, won't you?" He grinned and gave a small laugh as Halcyon seemed to ruffle his feathers in protest, forcing the young knight to relent given his own soft spot. Whatever Cyran offered would be snapped up with great enthusiasm, the bird more than happy to indulge in a few more scritches before being sent off.

After checking the blood pool and tracks, he stands with a soft sigh, "Unfortunately, it's a bit hard to pick out just how many in the chaos of everything....but it does....give us...a lead."

Gerhart scans the tracks eventually pointing them out to Cyran, raising a finger to point to a cave where they tracks slim down to just one set of legs and a faint blood trail. At the very least, the one cave fisher they were after was in that direction.

"I'll still can't see in the dark, but I have a few new tricks." He smiled, pushing at the Sun Heart ring with a thumb to turn the light on as they headed towards the cave. "Odd time to ask this I know, but we got a couple minutes till the cave....what do you do if you like a girl but think they probably don't like you the same way?"

Cyran waited until Gerhart eventually sighed, unable to stop himself from allowing his bird to be spoiled, before feeding Halcyon a handful of crickets from his bag. He really was a well-trained bird… happily accepting a few snacks before deciding he’d had enough and returning to the hunt in the air. That left Cyran and Gerhart to investigate the pool of blood, where Gerhart couldn’t figure out how many cave fishers they were dealing with.

“That’s okay.” He tried to conceal his grimace. He didn’t especially like going into a situation without knowing what they were dealing with. He’d heard cave fishers were aggressive, but didn’t want to be caught off guard by more than they were equipped to handle with. Perhaps he’d need more firepower than his usual knives… Cyran bent over in front of the pool of blood, holding out his hand before the blood began to move on its own, forming into a scimitar, markedly similar to the one he’d made weeks ago back in the Sultan’s Tomb to fight the gorgon.^[1] Cyran gave it an experimental swing, testing the weight to make sure everything was in order. Once he was satisfied with the blade, he tucked it back onto his belt.

“We’ll just have to be especially careful, then. Expect the unexpected.”

The two set off once more after the blood trail, Gerhart showing off the new ring he’d obtained to combat his lack of night vision. “That’s a handy item” He replied, secretly proud that Gerhart was doing so well. It looked like he’d grown a lot since Cyran last saw him. Gerhart’s next question though, threw him for a loop.

Cyran hummed, unsure what to say. “I don't know, I’m probably not the best person to ask…” He didn’t have a wealth of experience when it came to romance. He’d been married once before, but that had been a union of obligation, and one that had not ended well. He hadn’t loved then, and he hadn’t loved since. But Gerhart clearly trusted him enough to ask for his advice, and Cyran would do his best to help. “But if you truly want my advice, you can’t let your assumptions on how she thinks dictate your decision. If you have something special there, and it makes you happy, then that’s something worth fostering.”

He paused, wondering if he was overstepping his bounds. “… It might help if you told me a little more about her.” He had to admit he was a little curious about this girl that held Gerhart’s affections.

---

1. Crimson Armaments

"Figured I wouldn't always have you or Cirice around to do all the looking in the dark for me." He grinned as they headed into the cave. Being more subterranean they had a bit of time before they would have to really start looking out...even so, his hands rested on the handles of his blades as they walked ready to draw at a moment's notice.

"Well I already asked Zarius and he wasn't much help and I would be way too embarassed to ask Shaa since he's always so cool, so its either you or my carnival traveling dad and I think he's in Sol City right now so it's you."

Another little laugh as he paused to check their surroundings. Definitely movement in this cave, but nothing close yet.

"It's just hard to tell ya know? We did some work together, but kind of hard to know if it's actually like liking a person or if it's just cause you both almost died at the bottom of a tomb." He was terrible at being vague as that revelation would make it nearly obvious who he meant. "I haven't even talked to her since that job cause I've been too nervous to say anything. Fighting monsters is easy, tracking cave fishers into their lair? No worries, I know how this works. I don't know how any of the nice things in life work."

“What, you don’t think I’m cool?” Cyran joked. He wasn’t too offended by the implication that Shaa was much cooler than him, because… well, it was the truth. What did surprise him, though, was Gerhart’s mention of his father. He didn’t talk about his family much. He blinked, surprised. “Your father is… a carnival worker?” That explained Gerhart’s cheerful demeanor, at least.

However, as Gerhart continued on about the girl he liked, the more obvious it became who he was talking about. Cyran nodded, listening patiently as the younger man expressed his confusion. The hesitation made sense, Cyran thought as him he recalled how Gerhart and Cirice had acted in the tomb as the horrors drew them closer together. He’d seen how easily they meshed together then, as well. Her natural joy and his easygoing nature made them click.

“I couldn’t tell you if those feelings are the result of trauma bonding or not.” Cyran admitted. “… But I think if you feel something for this girl, no matter what, it’s worth exploring and getting to know her better. I don’t know much about love, but if there’s a spark, then it’s not about knowing the nice things in life. Just be your genuine self, and the rest will come.”

He paused, wondering if he should let it slip he knew who Gerhart’s mysterious crush was. But Gerhart looked so lost… and if Cyran was the one who could at least give him some kind of guidance, then he would. He put a hand on Gerhart’s shoulder, as reassuring as he could. “If you want to get to know her better, you should ask her on an outing to the Crescent Isles. She gets homesick easily… I’m sure she’d appreciate nothing more than to go to the beach and collect seashells with you.”

"Runs a traveling one with mom and my sister out of the back of their wagon when they aren't taking a break. The Kymenos Family Circus if you've heard of it." There was a decent chance Cyran had given his history with an orphanage. Arkmir loved playing free shows for orphans after all. If he did know of the Kymenos circus, something would stick out to Cyran. Mainly the fact that the ring leader is decidedly a tiefling, broken horn, dark sclera, sharpened teeth, flicking tail, all the sure signs of a tiefling. Gerhart was a very normal boy relatively speaking.

"Well the good news on that front is I really don't know what else to be but genuine. S'why dad liked to just call me Hart, cause I was all heart, no brains." He laughed softly. "Crescent Isles huh? I only ever been there on work...Zarius said she's from there too."

The tracker pauses a moment both to think a moment on what was said and where they are at in the cave. Both Zarius and Cyran had similar advice and they are pretty smart so it was probably solid. That thought is interrupted as something catches his ear and he holds up a finger, eyes drifting towards the ceiling. The sound of saliva hitting the water was distinctively different than regular water, but it could be hard to pick out without increased sense.

He motions quietly for Cyran to close his eyes, waiting until he does to hold up a palm and release a bright flash. Disoriented and blinded, the cave fisher drops from the ceiling screeching as it slashes out at them wildly.

"Found it."

The Kymenos Family Circus… it rang a bell, but only faintly. Cyran wasn’t sure where he could place it from - another life, perhaps, one where he spent more time in Moonglade. One small detail stood out though, nagging at the back of his mind until he was able to place it. Perhaps his memory was faulty, but he could have sworn that particular circus happened to be run by a tiefling.

… Oh.

Perhaps the revelation ought to have been sad - and Cyran’s heart went out to Gerhart - but when he saw the genuine love as Gerhart joked about his dad, Cyran was at least glad that Gerhart seemed to have grown up with a father that loved him dearly, blood relative or not.

“Good. If you ask me…” He thought back to how happy Cirice had been around Gerhart, and how easily the young man had been able to calm her down when she was scared. “I think Cirice likes that heart. So you won’t have any problems there.” Then, quieter, in a heavier tone than before. “There’s no one else I’d trust to look after her.”

Any other advice he could have offered was cut short by the sound of clicking above them, distant, but growing steadily louder. Gerhart clearly heard it too - he gestured to the cavern ceiling with slow, careful movements before turning around and letting out a burst of light that forced Cyran to close his eye to avoid getting disoriented by himself. There was a horrible screech before the cave fisher dropped to the ground.

It wriggled around for a moment before righting itself, lunging where it last remembered seeing its prey - too slow. Before it could reach either of them, Cyran intercepted it with his scimitar, slicing the damn thing clean in two. Blood splattered everywhere as the pieces of ghostly-white carapace hit the floor.

Cyran frowned, clutching the blade in his hands. Something about this cave was giving him an uneasy feeling… they’d gotten decently far in, but there’d been no sign of any other monsters, or the hostages. He closed his eyes, summoning forth a pair of spectral wings before taking off into the air, about halfway between the yawning cavern ceiling and the ground. Once he was decently above Gerhart, he clicked his tongue, letting his other senses guide him.^[1]

There was Gerhart, of course, and the faint sensation of humanoids further in… and the sudden skittering around the cavern walls - there!

… No, there.

And there.

At least four he could sense, perhaps even more, moving around at inhuman speeds. Cyran swore under his breath in elvish as he suddenly realized that while they were talking, they’d been completely and utterly surrounded. And one of the cave fishers in the back, getting closer, until it leapt from the wall-

“Gerhart! Behind you!” Cyran cried just before the cave fisher could strike Gerhart from behind.

---

1. Bat Wings - echolocation (1/3)

Gerhart certainly could hear more coming, but the limited range of his ring did put him at a slight disadvagtage. When Cyran called out, he knew it was close though, Ginma bless people who can see in the dark. He waited a half moment before he quick stepped backwards, letting the claw soar over him. Gerhart slashed out with his sword, the wind energy wrapping around the Duelist's Sword and its enchantments giving it enough cutting power to slice the pincer clean off.

While it screeched in pain he used that chance to turn around and hop back, gaining distance and coming to face it. He could see another just behind it, more coming as well.

"What do you think? Roughly about.....four? That's two apiece, unless you get lazy and I have to mop up for you." He gives a small laugh as one of the cave fisher starts a weird gurgling noise with its mandibles.

The thick white blob is suddenly spat them, but as it arcs through the air Gerhart slashes in open air. It seems well poorly timed until the wind picks up and cuts apart the sticky webbing^[1] into more easily dodgeable chunks.

"Gross."

---

1, Wind Cutter

His call alerted Gerhart to the position of the creature just in time, it seemed, as he managed to… somehow manipulate the wind around his blade to slice through the creature’s mandible with blade-thin, pressurized air. Cyran blinked. He hadn’t been aware Gerhart knew any kind of magic. He really had grown a lot since Cyran had last seen him… despite the fact that they were in the middle of a fight, and it would be entirely inappropriate to do so, Cyran was so overwhelmed with emotion he thought he might cry.

He was interrupted by the sound of Gerhart calling out to him from below, and his own echolocation picking up on more of the damned cave fishers pouring out from deeper inside. Cyran let out a small, hesitant laugh, wings fluttering hesitantly behind him. “Yes, I can sense four.” Including the one that Gerhart had injured. “And when you get as old as me you can afford to be lazy.”

The sound of nervous, wet chattering and clicking below forced him to pay attention to the enemy. Two each. He triggered the mechanism for the concealed blades in his boots before pulling a familiar maneuver - in a burst of darkness the wings from his back disappeared, and Cyran dropped to the ground and rolled, leg darting up to kick at one of the lunging cave fishers, embedding the knife right into its vulnerable underside.^[1] The thing hissed and spit at him, waving its claws in an attempt to find purchase and strike at Cyran, until Cyran kicked once more and flung it away, where it hit a wall with a sickening CRUNCH.

Mercy’s Lament was in his hand from where it was tucked into his boot in a split second, lunging at the injured cave fisher and finishing it off before it had the chance to recover. Gerhart had been the one to voice it aloud, but as Cyran was sprayed with blood and viscera from the insect, he could only find that he mirrored the sentiment.

Gross, indeed.

He could clean up later. For now, he had to return back to the fight, where Gerhart was still dealing with the other beasts.

---

1. Ice Skates

Gerhart burst forward after the one Cyran kicked away, closing the gap^[1] as the elf headed for the one he had injured. Trading off targets made it harder for the enemy to keep up, a solid tactic when fighting multiple enemies that are a bit bigger than yourself. The key to winning this really would not be getting ganged up on, that would be bad.

"Come on, Cyran, you can hit a bit harder than that." He grinned, giving the elf a little tease and boost to his attacks.^[2]

Gerhart parried off one claw, letting it glide over his sword as he slid under. The young knight slashed with his other sword through its mandibles, another hideous shriek shaking the walls. When it reared back, he swiped at the air again sending another rush of air to cut apart the softer underbelly.^[3]

Two down, two to go. The other two fishers were quick to try and jump on Gerhart with their claws. He was quick enough to keep the blows from striking anything vital, guiding them away from his core with every guard. It was clear he was holding them off, but the question would be for how long.

---

<sup>1. Rushing Charge
2. Battle Cry
3. Wind Cutter</sup>