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Chapter One: Paper Tiger In Arborvale

Paper Tiger rose from slumber at the sound of a commotion downstairs. He frowned blearily, then sat bolt upright as the sound of a smashing table echoed through the building. “Oh, hells.” It looked as though there was trouble in the inn’s common room.

Sighing quietly, he pulled himself out of bed, pausing only long enough to firmly affix his ivory mask and check the bits of dye scattered across the back of his face. Satisfied, he grabbed his cloak, drawing it tight around his body, and strode from the room, exuding authority in every pore of his being.

As he reached the top of the stairs, however, his spirits sank. The scene in the inn room was one of devastation, but he was more used to that than, perhaps, he should be. It was the agents of this destruction that had him worried. The table in the centre of the room had been swept aside, sent flying into a wall, and the innkeeper and his wife cowered against the counter, babbling soothing phrases. Paper Tiger couldn’t make out the exact words, but he didn’t have to, because menacing them, only a few paces back, was someone Paper Tiger wouldn’t want to face off against at the best of times.

He was over six feet tall, clad head to toe in gleaming white jade, his hair as silver as the moon, his skin tinted brown with the Essence of the earth. A pair of khatars hung from his belt, seemingly unneeded, as the Dragon-Blood waved in his left hand a small golden charm. “Heresy! Heresy and treason against the Realm! We should burn this inn to the ground, you ….you…. demonspawn!”

“Sulien, calm yourself!” The second Dragon-Blood was shorter, thinner. His armour was a swirl of black and green, with waves patterned along the bottom, transforming into leaves at the top, and his daiklave was slung across his back. He had one hand on his companion’s shoulder, but seemed unwilling to step further. “It’s a charm, not an altar! Just calm down, please!” A single bead of sweat was noticeable on his brow, but he kept his voice calm and collected.

The third Dragon-Blood took a deep breath, standing almost as far away from the other two as he could. He ran a hand through hair as red as fire, and opened his mouth, but whatever he had to say died in his throat as Paper Tiger spoke, his Essence coiling within him to draw their attention.

“And just what is the meaning of this?”

The three Dynasts turned as one as the other strode down the stairs, wood creaking under his feet. They blinked in confusion as the man, almost as tall as Sulien, with his dark cloak swirling around him like fog and his thin beard fading into short-cut hair, blonde but speckled with white, stormed towards them. “Just what in the name of the Dragons do you three think that you are doing??”

“Who are you to speak such to us, old man?” Sulien was too angry to catch the warning signs that his friends were making, and turned to face this new interloper. How dare a mortal challenge the Will of the Dragons? “We are Dynasts of the Realm, Lords of the Earth! Who are you to challenge the might of Cathak Sulien?”

“Who am I?” The answer when it came, was thunderous. As the newcomer spoke, the wind swirled about him and gathered into forms, dozens of angry men staring down at the young Dynasts, who blinked and wet their lips. One arm swept the cloak free in a swirl of fabric, revealing the blue jade “I am the Magistrate Ledaal Samarkus, and you three are very definitely intruding on an investigation! Now! Why are you destroying this good man’s inn?”

The innkeeper and his wife blinked, uncertain whether they had been saved or doomed. For a moment, the three Dragon-Blooded paused, glancing at one another, and Paper Tiger felt his breath catch, careful not to let it show on his face. Then Sulien lowered his arm, shame on his face, and Tiger smiled. The large Dynast spoke. “I am sorry, Magistrate. I lost my temper. Sit, and I will explain everything.”