Indira and Sarosh
Sarosh didn't believe in luck nearly as much as he did fate. He had always known his return to Nobility was inevitable, but he could not deny how quickly everything seemed to accelerate after he decided to join Jaren, and his brothers by association. At first, he thought he was wise and deduced that these dragon men were riding their own weave of Fate , and they had met on a common tapestry.
But here of late, Sarosh has seen much to make him realize the company he keeps are very much more than just riding a weave. The tremendous growth of the cinder block, the flocks of followers wanting to be involved with Sons Commodities, feats such as the reconstruction of the lifts, the navy building a new flotilla of warship patrols. He shook his head, again, at how ...flippantly Jaren unleashed the magics he controls. The public display of the completely re-engineered dockyards, made of stone from the sea floor and the heaviest timbers shipped into Stormhaven , masterwork quality was what most craftsmen and dock men have called it. And he just acts like he is supposed to do it.
No, he thought to himself, these were different kind. Men such as these gather strings from the tapestry they're woven into. They gather and hold tight, and drag threads tight and force the tapestry to react, or else lose something to the takers. These dragon men forced action, forced those threads to be strummed. They wrinkled the tapestry. They are the reason, he thought to himself, things are about to change
He looked over to Indira, cozied nicely on a plush couch in her Black Crown office, adoring a young tigress cub. Sarosh had called on his command of natural law and awakened the beast for her. The intimacy of the gift was not lost on her, and she was getting overwhelmed when the code red was called. They both knew the importance and split. Sarosh spent the fight summoning fire to consume horrific undead being made by the vampires we thought trapped behind a wall. Then it was on to the plan to end the mystery of the rakshasas in the Van Fleet Manor.
And then those fearless bastards did it. He had never been in a combat like that. The conquests in these type of battles are legends, Epic tales, of Mythic deeds. It's funny, he thought, how often a fiend of Hell steps out in the middle of shitstorms like this.
Now, he was readying to depart again. The mythic battle had opened a legacy within the blade he carried made from his enemy forge fiend, and he was anxious to wield it their next endeavor. The young tigress pleased Indira greatly and she accepted it as a formal courtship gift. The staff of fire he thought of as a premonition , a sort of warning 'if you're gonna go, take a gun'.
It was then that it him, and he knew. Fate, the undeniable tapestry, would be set based on what they did, their brotherhood, their....sins.