The Dauntless

"My wedding," the hunter says, a goofy smile blooming on his face. "I'm to be married in three days. I needed an impressive catch to offer my wife's parents as a dowry, but I, uh, went a little farther than I had planned searching for something suitable."

”A moment ago you said you were just getting food for your village. Surely you’d have mentioned something so important as a wedding dowry.,” Dorrak replies, eyeing the sack as it shifts rhythmically. ”We’re plenty competent, we can help you bring the bird down quickly should it try to escape. If it’s a bird. Now open the sack. I insist,” he adds, a clear note of warning in his voice.

The hunter looks at you for a moment, then sighs. "Ah, well, worth a try." In a sudden movement, his head rotates a hundred and eighty degrees, revealing the back of his head to be that of an snarling hyena, and he leaps forward.

The hyena-man strikes first and strikes fast, tearing into Django and biting him by the throat. The others move swiftly after, Dorrak and Nova striking him from either side while Antoinette and Fleur do the same. Suki swings her burning Fauchard and finds that the iron burns the creature even better than the flames do. As the monster bites deep into Django’s throat, Dorrak attempts to protect him with his crimson shield, but swings wild, and as soon as Django comes free he scrambles back to a safer position and assails the trickster’s mind. The assault on thhe fake hunter continues until he turns his fangs on Dorrak, biting deep into the half-orc’s neck, the position making it hard for Dorrak to land a strike. Nova, however, takes advantage of the distraction and leaps into the air, biting onto the back of the wounded creature’s neck and ripping into his own throat, slaying him.

Antoinette looks down at the corpse of the strange creature. "I think that was a Kishi. They're a type of fey that likes to disguise as a human to take friends and lovers. Of course it usually only does so to revel in the moment of betrayal when it reveals its hyena head and attacks them."

She walks over to the sack and looks back to the others. "Let's all be ready, just in case," she says before opening the sack.

Inside the sack is an unconscious humanoid-looking individual, dark skinned and dressed only in an orange toga. Their non-human nature is betrayed only by the large, feathery orange wings coming from their back and their breathing, which despite their current state is smooth, steady, and comes in an odd rhythm one might expect more from someone who was singing than was unconscious in a sack.

Antoinette quickly pulls a minor elixir of life and gently administers it to the unconscious individual.

The individual stirs as the elixir pours down their throat. Their eyes flutter open, revealing them to be a solid glowing orange. Their hand rises to the back of their bald head as they sit up. "What happened?" Despite the simple statement, there's a lyricality to their voice that makes it sound almost musical.

Taking in the wings and voice, Suki's head cocks to the side. "What would a Fey want with a Choir Angel?" She muses aloud, before taking in what the Choral had actually said. "You were captured by a Fey, a... Kishi was it?" She asks of Antoinette.

"Yes, a kishi. How you ended up in such a situation is beyond me. But they are shapeshifting creatures, so he may have tricked you," Antoinette answers. "I'm quite curious in general though as to how a celestial such as yourself ended up here."

"Ah. We remember now." The choral stands up and dusts their toga off. "The kishi did not trick us. It attempted to, but we saw through its disguise. Nevertheless, it got the better of us when it attacked." They offer a pleasant smile to you all. "We apologize for our rudeness. We are Chioma, choral of Nirvana. We are here on a task from our conjurer at the Magaambyan Academy, who seeks rare flowers from this area to cure his student of a horrific curse." Chioma reaches into their toga and withdraws three flowers. "He could not trespass on Ekujae lands himself, so he sent us in his stead."

"What flowers and what sort of curse?" Antoinette asks.

"These flowers," they say, indicating the ones in their hand. "We had already completed our quest, and were about to return to the academy when the kishi attacked us. As for what curse, we do not know. It is magic outside of our expertise."

”Understandable. Well, we would not want to delay your quest further, holy one, but before you go, could you tell us if you know anything of the cult of Dahak in the area? We hunt them on behalf of the Ekujae,” Dorrak replies, his head bowed and tone deeply respectful towards the angel.

Chioma shakes their head. "We know little of the goings on here. Although we felt the dark magic warding this region, we sensed it posed no threat to us, and only led us to hurry our mission. If you wish, though, the evening is late and we will reach the Magaambya quickly enough if we leave in the morning. We would be willing to take a look around the immediate area and inform you of any goings on when you awaken before returning to our conjurer."

"That would be greatly appreciated, thank you," Suki says, inclining her head to the Choral.

"And if you know where we might find more of those flowers, there is a group of unfortunate explorers who are currently left a bit statuesque," Antoinette adds.

They nod and give you directions, although Antoinette knows the elixir in question will take at least a week of dedicated brewing to create.

That evening, Renali returns from her scouting, reporting that she found the footprints of reptilian humanoids heading southwest from where she searched.

In the morning, Chioma returns, just in time to find Dorrak has crawled out of the men's tent and is vomiting in a corner of the clearing. They tilt their head. "... are you alright, Sir Dorrak?"

Dorrak groans and straightens up, trying to make himself as presentable as possible for the angel. "Not at my best. It's been a long time since I've been sick," he replies with a shake of his head.

The choral tilts their head. "I see. We are not well versed in mortal illnesses, but perhaps we can help." They place a finger on Dorrak's forehead and open their mouth. A voice rings out from it, followed by a second and a third, singing three different songs that are nonetheless in perfect harmony. After a moment, Dorrak feels an overwhelming urge to retch and heaves, coughing up a glob of black ichor. As it leaves his body, his fever almost instantly breaks, and his nausea clears up, although he's still dehydrated. "Do you feel better?"

Dorrak makes sure to retch away from Chioma, then takes in a deep breath, the cold sweats he was having stopping. "Much, thank you," he replies with a grateful bow, then reaches into Nova's pack to take out a waterskin and drink it down.

Chioma nods. "We are glad. Our understanding is illness, as mortals would put it, 'sucks.' In any case, we have found an unusual totem pole to the southeast of here. It bears a carved wooden dragon's head, painted green. This is all we found in the area you requested we inspect. Is there anything more we can do for you and your compatriots before we take our leave?"

"Well if you are so inclined to help and it wouldn't be troublesome or painful, I dabble in alchemy. A few of your feathers might be helpful," Antoinette replies. "But you've already done more than enough for us, so I won't be disappointed if that's too big an ask."

Chioma bows slightly and plucks three feathers from their wings. "We do not know what you could make of these with mundane alchemy, but if you wish to try, you are welcome." The request fulfilled, they take off, heading northwest.