Here comes the fresh Chapter 22 of the story [The FAEL WASTE] from Darth2018. Let’s see together what happens.
“What do you think Dolen has found, ranger?’ Eritra demanded, crouching next an alert Lunalyn. The Njai general’s body was coiled tightly, her agitation betrayed by her quivering tail, as she shifted her two bows nervously. Lunalyn to reassure the Njai but the call of a rock martin trilling faintly gave her pause.
“What is that?” Moira challenged, her sword rising as she tensed. Allura stared hard at the ranger, concern plain on her fine features. Lunalyn waved them back.
“We will join him. Stay alert,” she replied, “and Lady Eritra, look before you shoot an arrow!”
The four companions swiftly crossed to the jumbled rocks, moving quietly and listening.
“Come to my voice!” Dolen called softly. “We have friends!”
Lunalyn stepped into the rocky chamber first. “Gwyddian” she cried, stepping cautiously into the rock walled sanctuary, her eyes never leaving the wizard. They faced each other warily.
“Valiant little Luna!” Greythywst laughed, then leaned back against the ricks he sat on to look at her. “And not so little now! You’ve grown into a woman!”
“And you were ever the charmer, oh giver of good graces.” The dark-haired woman replied, moving closer to Dolen, who was listening alertly. A gruff voice interrupted their greeting.
“And I must have been ensorcelled by you, Gwyddian, that this beauty sees me not?”
Lunalyn turned and offered a hand in the dwarf’s. “Rin!” The dwarf owed formally and took her hand in his rough paw by way of greeting.
The rest of the company gathered around. Rin stared open-mouthed as Eritra glided smoothly forward. “I’ll be blowed!” he exclaimed. Greythywst was taken aback but kept silent, gazing intently at the Njai.
“Rin-In Steelshaper?” Moira asked. “You made the doors and lintels of Tarville Keep?” The tall redhead looked at her companions. “Stout staves of iron they were yet wondrously easy to open or close! And their fit kept the rains and winds of the mountain storms out completely. I remember watching you and your workers building that gate!”
The squat dwarf turned to smile at Moira, his hands gripping his wide leather belt. “Aye! I recall weaving my way through you little urchins, always getting the way for a better look!”
“I hesitate to interrupt these greetings among friends long separated,” Eritra apologized, “but we have more pressing business. Dolen Skil, we have come to the entrance? Is Kheb within? We are wasting time!”
“Greetings, stranger from afar!” the wizard intoned formally. “Greythywst Gwyddian am I, of Imladon far to the east, now a seeker of hidden things. The Council asked me to seek out Dolen Skil to consult with the Guardsman of Astrapor. May I ask who you are?”
Lunalyn stepped in quickly. “Lord Greythywst, here is the Lady Eritra, Duchess of the Fearful Deep, Commander of the Fang and daughter of Reenoral, king of the Njai of the Fael Marshes.”
Gwyddian bowed solemnly. “Hail, Lady of the Njai!” He looked to the elven warrior. “May I know what your purposes here before these gates may be, for I thought you were seeking clues about the Grimms?”
Dolen gestured toward the gaping shadow into the mountain.
“Within ruined Nehmbrodel, we believe Angcaldroc, a dragon from the Elder Days, makes his lair. We saw him raid the Fael, from which he took a young Njai of Eritra’s clan prisoner.” Dolen explained. “The beast will torture the youngling to reveal all he knows about his people. The dragon will tolerate no one in his realm without his consent and we all know a dragon would never consent to any intrusion. Lunalyn, Eritra and I have come to try and rescue the captive before Angcaldroc breaks him.” Dolen gestured to the two other women. “These we rescued from a Grimm horde attacked by the dragon two days ago. We were about to chance the ruins on this errand when I detected you two.” Dolen stepped back, his tale done. He stared at Greythywst. “And now you have a tale to reveal.”
The older elf replied, “There has been much Grimm raiding along the northern slopes of the Essalian Alps and also some orcish attacks as well. Some say they are working together, as ridiculous as that sounds.” Greythywst paused, stroking his short beard thoughtfully. “And the kingdoms of men vie ever more violently for territory and power across Nyria, almost worse than during the Great War.”
Rin broke in. “Orcs have dared to sortie right before the very gates of our cities, hidden in the mountains. It is almost as if they are seeking us out deliberately.” The dwarf angrily ground the butt of his great axe against the stony floor of the space. “They openly display their war banners on the very walls of Thangad and open each day with their war horns echoing through the crags like braying draug.” Rin straightened and glared around. “War is coming!”