Xorvintaal Jaxtasha

"Jaxtasha is the first daughter of Arynquitubahr"

"No I'm Not!"

"Jax! I'm telling the story!"

Gather round dear friends and hear my tale, for I have travelled far to tell it. I have seen the mighty dragons play games with mere mortals' lives, and I have seen them win and lose. This day I do not speak to you of the largest dragon, or the fiercest I have seen. The tale I tell is of a tiny dragon, the smallest gem, in the eye of a ferocious but youthful mother, burned by a young rogue, and blinded by vengeance. This tiny dragon is Jaxtasha, the first and only daughter of Arynquitubahr, the sole egg to successfully hatch from her first clutch. However, as these tales so often go, the events of this story are not so simple. Listen further, and gather round. For as the sun is setting across these mountain peaks there is a purple glimmer high in the rocks. That light if ever you see it, is the keen eye of Arynquitubahr, watching as her daughter makes her way in this world.

What I tell you here is folklore and faerie tale for no Elf, Dwarf or Human has ever been close enough to the mighty dragons and lived long enough to tell their story. Those caught in their perverse games do not even realise they are playing, but I have spoken to some adventurers with loose lips and looser purses, and this is the tale they told.

Let me begin this tale with Arynquitubahr, a young dragon, desperate to make her way alone. While I know nothing of her past or indeed very little of her present, I have seen her soar. Have you ever seen the skies turn grey in the blink of an eye? Or felt the force of wind so strong it knocks you to the ground? I have! The day Arynquitubahr flew over. She is a majestic amethyst dragon, a perfect example in every way. Her presence so close to me, struck both fear and admiration in equal measures. Neutral by nature she keeps to the solitude of the mountains above our heads. From all the knowledge I have gained while travelling the breadth of this land she is not yet old enough to have borne children, and yet, here is a tale of her daughter. Take from that what you will, judge the merits for yourself.

And so the story begins. High in the mountains that have loomed over our lives. Arynquitubahr naively made the mistake of leaving her nest unguarded, although for the smallest amount of time, and without straying far, her defences were lowered enough to allow a young rogue, eager to prove her worth to her peers, to seize one of her eggs.

This rogues name is Ilyena Parvitau and her tale is as complex and twisted as this.

Ilyena succeeded in stealing just one egg from the nest. And before she had time to think how her actions were to impact upon the rest of her life, she swiftly disappeared into the night and the surrounding countryside, away from the keen eyes of Arynquitubahr. When the mighty dragon returned she found her hoard had been tampered with, the anger rising inside her as she discovered an intruder had entered her nest. As she began to search her cave for evidence of the creature who had dared to enter, her eyes were drawn to her nest, and horror struck as she realised that her clutch was short of an egg. The anger boiling in her blood, she took to the skies with awesome speed and terror searching frantically for her baby. Anger had blinded her senses, the once calm and measured dragon was hot headed and irrationality had taken over, the rogue was able to slip away into the darkness with the egg safely stowed in her backpack.

The young rogue trekked through the undergrowth for days while the formidable presence of Arynquitubahr swooped and loomed over head day and night. Imagine for a moment the complete and total terror taking over Ilyena's every waking moment. In the day, the noise of beating wings so close each crack makes your heart stop. And at night, the total lack of noise, the silence, the waiting, the wondering if the next moment is your last. After over a week, defeated, Arynquitubahr returned, only to find her nest savaged, and her eggs eaten. She had lost all her babies. Furious with the young rogue who had cost her so much she was to throw herself into Xorvintaal, the game of the dragons, determined to spread her power and influence in order to find the thief who stole her child. This was to become her only aim, by whatever means necessary she would find and punish that rogue.

During the weeks that followed the rouge put much distance between herself and the dragons realm. She fled far for a human, even one touched by dragon blood, but a fearsome dragon, scorned by such a human has a greater reach of power than any young rogue would anticipate. Travelling only when she was sure she could not be easily spotted by the gigantic dragon. She was hampered by circumstance. she was unable to travel far, or fast, and a sense of foreboding was constantly creeping over her. However, as youth so often gives, Ilyena found herself feeling more pleased with her accomplishment the further away she got, and foreboding was quickly replaced by a sense of indestructibility, and arrogance.

Eventually, Ilyena settled in a large market town, one such as this, one at the foot of these great mountains, and very much still within the grasps of an airborne creature. The rogue took the egg to a known fence of the thieves guild, desperate to impress them with her skills, perhaps a little too eager in hindsight. To her surprise they were impressed, shocked, and very much in her debt. She had never been well received in the guild but the arrival of an amethyst egg thrust her skywards in the expectations of her superiors. There was a buzz within the guild, and Ilyena's name was on the lips of its most significant members. Fame, fortune and Influence were with reach of this young rogue. A meeting was arranged with an important "client" of the guild. An prominent member of the town, who can never be seen to work with the guild, and yet is an avid collector of things they acquire. The tale of corruption, backs turned, payments made, eyes averted, and individuals dealt with is a long and gruesome one, one which I cannot delve into now. But this "client" was as powerful as Arynquitubahr herself.

A moment in a young thief's career she should never forget, and one this young rogue never will. As the member of high society entered the room he was astounded at the prize in front of him. The egg of a legendary creature, one he had heard lingered above his head, and his land. this indeed was a prize, and one he would treasure, and display so all those who entered his home would see, and those he entertained would hear tales of his bravery in capturing it from the grasp of an evil and ferocious wyrm. The head of the guild and the client were busy agreeing the price when a small crack was heard on the table, followed by the sound of rocking. The rogue looked over just as a tiny purple head poked itself out of its shell, this was the start of the young rogues troubles.

"The Mama!"

"Jax! Really! I'm trying to tell the story here, you cannot always interrupt"

Jaxtasha, as many other little creatures before her was born away from her natural mother. The first thing Jax saw of this world was the young rogue's astounded face, and from then on our rogue has been unable to get rid of her. I ask you to think for a second how you might attempt to outrun a creature that can move over twice your speed, can see farther than you, and can take to the skies in a second. then imagine that creature loves you, that creature considers you to be her family.

Our young rogue in desperation, first tried to claim that the sale could still go ahead but at a much inflated price, an amethyst baby dragon, was after all worth far more than the egg was. Whether it was arrogance, naivety, or panic is for your own minds to decide. What is clear is that Ilyena was in a position she was totally unprepared for. Her plans for notoriety were going awry, and all she could think to do was be rid of the small purple bundle sitting on the table, munching quietly on her own egg. However, as will seem an obvious outcome to the educated and intelligent listener the client did not want to rear a wrymling, let alone one which he was only too aware was likely to be a child of the young dragon which so often loomed above his home. She then tried to sell her to the guild, and then to anyone willing to show any interest. A couple of times she even managed it, a poor adventuring party were suckered into buying her, but as soon as they slept for the night, she flew back to find our rouge. She sold her to a member of royalty to keep in a cage, but she broke out, and once again returned to her mum. Our rogue was nearly beheaded for stealing the gift back. This is how the two spent their first year.

The tale has a tragic turn, as our young protagonist is essentially alone in the world. She isn't surrounded by her own kind, her first years were spent without the company of other dragons, although the rogue in question is draconic in blood line. Our poor little girl still has no idea she has so many abilities, and can do so much more than fly. In the first couple of years Jax did not always managed to fly quite straight, she would lose control in the air, falling to the ground. When she managed to return she often gripped onto the rogue a little too hard with her claws, often doing enough damage that the rogue needed to find a local cleric, leaving a trail of odd tales about a beast who was attacking young girls travelling alone of the roads. However, she slowly got to grips with her powers and abilities and each year is a little more in control of them. The two began to bond, the rogue resigned to the fact that Jax would never leave her alone, and began to find uses for her little pet. She made an excellent scout, and a better lookout. However, she made most coin by showing her off at local fairs.

This is where we return our story's focus to Arynquitubahr. Forget any preconceptions you have as to the temperament of a dragon, or the nature of a neutral creature. As in many a legend Jaxtasha has become the Achilles heel to Arynquitubahr. Mention of her name inflames her temper, it blinds her senses, and it controls her emotions. She spent two years searching for the young rogue, convinced that her child would still be alive, and that she had not perished along with the rest of her clutch. She had no land and only a modest hoard but managed to contract an adventuring party to do her bidding. She would find the rogue that took her daughter, and she would make her pay. The party were doomed to fail, with only a single member making it out of the service of the mighty dragon. They began their quest high in the mountains, and ventured east, listening to tales such as this, ear close to the ground. And they began to hear tales of a baby amethyst dragon being displayed at local markets and fetes. The party chose not to tell Arynquitubahr of this news until they were certain it was the child she was looking for. Their misguided loyalty allowed another of Aryn.s competitors Malice, a black dragon involved in Xorvintaal, the great game of dragons to plant the idea that her adventuring party were in league with the rouge who took her child and they were hiding her.

So Aryn, furious from two years of hatred and sorrow for the loss of her clutch descended from her hoard and went in search of the rogue once more. Reaching the village her superior sight allowed to her to spot the ill fated party talking to the young rogue about this baby dragon, and even handing money over to her. Without context she could not decipher that they had paid the rogue to look at the dragon, and were inspecting her in order to loyally report back to Arynquitubahr later. She was once again blinded by her emotions and saw only betrayal. Faster than any of the village could react to Arynquitubahr the mighty and glorious dragon descended from the skies and grabbed the rogue and Jaxtasha in her claws, before releasing a barrage of breath weapons upon the village below, leaving it looking like the aftermath of an earthquake. She cared not for the lives of those beneath her, her party included. She was indiscriminate in her attacks, they would all pay for their betrayal.

Arynquitubahr took the pair back to her mountain cave. Like any parent she was secretly overjoyed that her child was safe and looked well. I ask you again to imagine the sight of a child you never saw born, three years on, stood infront of you, healthy, alive. But on the other side of her emotions, she was furious with the rogue who had denied her those years. She released Jaxtasha onto the floor at her side, and stood Ilyena to face her, about to execute the young rogue at the center of all the pain. Quite unexpectedly Jaxtasha flew in front of Ilyena and refused to move, not allowing Arynquitubahr to pass her by, screaming that the rogue was her mother and Arynquitbahr was not permitted to kill her. The fearlessness of the young, she was outsized, outmatched but she would die trying to save the one she loved, from this stranger who would seek to kill her. This confrontation is the moment the world collapsed for the three. Ilyena had offended Arynquitubahr all over again, she had stolen Jaxtasha for a second time. Jaxtasha had confirmed to Ilyena her unfaltering love and protection, she was her daughter, through and through. Stubborn as the rogue, and foolhardy with it.

one of her party survived the slaughter a dwarf by the name of Grolsch, a cleric of Moradin. With unwavering loyalty he made his way back to her, seeing the sight in front of him, a mighty dragon being challenged by the baby he had been sent to find, he began explaining all that had gone before.

The rogue was to be punished, she would sign up to serve Arynquitubahr, and that her descendants would also serve her. She would do her bidding forever more, but she would survive as long as her wits kept her alive out in the game. Jaxtasha however will not leave the rouges side for long, and has joined the adventuring party to stay close to her.

This is a cautionary tale, for the youth and arrogance of these protagonists has entwined their lives for eternity, they are bound to one another until the fates release them through death, and noone wants to be bound to a dragon, a rogue, or a corrupt Nobel. If you see a small dragon at the side of a young rogue, treat her well, she is the daughter of one with great power. Wherever she treads she is watched and protected. For she is the baby dragon with two mothers, caught in a battle for her love, but also feicely protected by both.

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