â€œEdric does good work for fair pay and is above all reliable in his ability to deal with one of his targets. I value his services and his companionship, though his advice is oftentimes too glum or cautious for my tastes.â€ Koralheim explained, hand rubbing absently over the sore area of his back. â€œWe have the ability to teleport as we did previously if we wish to reach Lady Rasha, the drakefolk I spoke of. Otherwise we may be better off traveling more conventionally with the caravan. Iâ€™d actually like the angels to catch up to us, but on our terms, not theirs. If we are in a position to bargain we stand a much better chance.â€ Koralheim added â€œNot to doubt your combat abilities, Miss Kala, but angels are just bred for battle in ways that even the dragonâ€™s blood cannot have made you.â€<br/><br/>Koralheim beckoned her to follow as they started walking back to the market. â€œIâ€™ll need some supplied for Edricâ€™s weapon, and I figure Iâ€™ll pay you for your company with a story about Lady Rasha and I.â€<br/><br/>As Koralheim browsed through piles of scrap metal, images flooded into Kalaâ€™s mind of a time long passed.<br/><br/>~~<br/><br/>It was common knowledge that Rasha had been one of the first; she had witnessed the dragonâ€™s great sacrifice first-hand, and had been at one time a lovely human woman from the north with broad shoulders and strength beyond what she ought to have. She had relished in the frenzy for battle that had boiled in them those first days, when they raided human towns and cities and laughed off Merfolk and Elven attempts to stem their lust for carnage. They started without honor, and even now, only some thought a drakefolk ought to care much about honor.<br/><br/>Rasha had lived for so very long, from well before the great war, by virtue of a horrible magic. An auramancer, she had the ability to conjure forth the soul of another and mold it to her will, change its very nature. Make a good man evil as the devil himself, or make the thief an ascetic. Rashaâ€™s power was great and rare; she had bested two others in the craft and remained the only practitioner since.<br/><br/>Rasha kept mostly to herself, took promised contracts for a soul in exchange for information, and attached herself to a rather large caravan that patrolled the continent. In fact, Koralheim had first met her while still a caravan guard himself, before heâ€™d been married. Sheâ€™d flirted with him, run a clawed finger along his cheek and told him he was destined for greatness. Once his wifeâ€™s family had announced their plans to marry, Rasha was terribly disappointed. Koralheim still remembered that disappointed scoff when heâ€™d introduced his then-fiancÃ© to the elder drakefolk. â€œOh you lucky woman, you.â€ she had said â€œI would have traded a few years off of my immortality for a chance at such a handsome young thing as him. And no mouth as well? Polite? The perfect man.â€ Rasha chastised. â€œAnd I laid eyes on him first!â€<br/><br/>But despite her disappointment, she attended the wedding as one of Koralheimâ€™s few friends. His lovely, lovely wife and Rasha had gotten along quite well in fact. For a moment, Kalaâ€™s mind would be flash with half-glimpses of Koralheimâ€™s departed love.<br/><br/>There was something that Koralheim wanted her to see, though. There he was, looking up at Rasha in her dark caravan wagon. â€œYou can have it without a catch if you just tell me where the armor is, Rasha.â€<br/><br/>She smiled that fangy smirk he had come to know her for. â€œOh, Iâ€™ll take good care of you, Koralheim. Why, I donâ€™t think I could bare to change you.â€ she teased. â€œBut a fair trade indeed. You want your ancestorâ€™s armor? Itâ€™s waiting back where you came from, my love. The merfolk swordsman waits for you at the bottom of Rez Lagoon.â€ she added, raising a hand to stop him before he could speak into her mind, even though she loved his unique feeling in her brain.<br/><br/>â€œYouâ€™ll have to get the conclaveâ€™s permission, first. They haunt that place as ghosts in the nexus. Donâ€™t go alone; you wonâ€™t leave as yourself if someone isnâ€™t there to drag you out.â€<br/><br/>From behind Koralheim a human with short, blond hair stepped forth from the shadows and spoke up. â€œWell thatâ€™s what Iâ€™m there for, mâ€™Lady. My name is Jameson Brass.â€ he explained, bowing lightly as the memory grew hazy and Koralheimâ€™s presence withdrew from Kalaâ€™s mind to its normal, icy-hot corner in the back of her skull.<br/><br/>~~<br/><br/>Koralheim slid over a small pouch of gold coin and collected a small parcel in response. In the time heâ€™d overwhelmed Kala with his memories, heâ€™d completed his sale with the scraper. â€œCome now, Kala.â€ he stated quietly in her mind. â€œI owe Edric some quality work; something more elegant than just a blade.â€ he explained. â€œAnd Iâ€™ve just the item in mind.â€<br/><br/>Koralheim cast his eyes skyward again and caught sight of a black feather floating on the cold wind. "Hmm, I might need to call in a few more favors."