Desperately seeking a sign

Vypra woke to a cold grey sky. In the half-light of dawn, her dreams still lurked at the edge of her consciousness.
She rose and headed out of the inn, towards the pool in the centre of the Bluff’s main Rise. Splashing the cool water over her face, her mind reveiwed again the confrontation between Liontooth and Rallos and she shook her head.

Using her tabard as on impromptu towel, she dried herself and made her way to the wind-rider master, taking a flight back to Ratchet.

Shivering slightly in the cool air, it was hard not to feel some sense of foreboding. Her dreams had warned her that a Shadow was looming but they were, of necessity, cryptic. It was the task of the shaman to decipher their meaning and find the clues the Loa left therein.

The troll sighed; poison and madness seemed to be everywhere she looked. The poor whelp, Yma, at the Keel, her own hands had only just recovered from that night. Then Gwen had suffered a snake bite. Mag had managed to poison himself but still, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was some connection. Then there was Deyy’s strange regression to her childhood, Kaazma the mercenary, reportedly possessed… and finally, last night at the Bluff, Lion and Rallos…which had been the least sane?

The sun was still creeping over the horizon when she arrived in the goblin run port she called home but the clouds were far behind her and she squared her shoulders as she strode towards the Inn. She needed something to fight! Communing with the spirits wasn’t her greatest strength, although more than once she had managed to divine things people may have preferred to keep hidden. She craved action. Wielding the elements to chastise those that hurt her friends…that was where she came into her own.

Vypra entered her room and made the daily devotions to Shango, praying that the Loa of chaos and storms would see fit to give her some sign or hint that would allow her to actually do something!

Once she had washed properly and changed clothes, she busied herself with mundane tasks for a while. There was the stock to organise, now including a daily check for any tampering, trash to take out and new suppliers to check up on. Then, once those menial chores were complete, she took out her armour and weapons. They were in good condition, but a little extra attention never hurt. Humming to herself, she began the laborious, yet soothing process of checking, cleaning and oiling each piece. If she did get the guidance she sought…she would be ready!