Dragoncrest Cliffs Article I: Bros before Ho’s

@Vercingetorix doth my ears deceive me? hath the Horn of Bromanst thus summoned thine Bro?
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The herald of a fertility festival is what had coaxed Vonnaruil towards up from his Diasporian debt towards the realm of Elysium; really, who better than the philanderer to see what such celebrations had to give? As it was, though, he’d arrived to the Hushed perimeters a tad too late — several days too late, actually.

In truth, the Crow was keen to spend some time without Stigmata’s payment; it had been almost two months since he’d toiled for the mountain-lord’s favor, and as it was, the pressing matter of the Vartija still remained very much unthought of. That in itself was meant to change quite soon. As much as the Crow preened at the thought of being between two kings, thus most certainly leading both courts to war over the subject of his heart honor, there would be only one patron he would pledge to.

So leaving all flustered farewells to Elysium, the Crow flew north once more, winging his way for the cliffs themselves. Once he chanced upon the behemoth of sequoias, the beginnings of his own herald faltered within his willowy throat, for he saw — at least, he thinks he has through the gloam — his inked-up Bro-in-law. An ivory smirk crescented along his lips, the red of his hurts wreathing in mirth as he instead hailed, ”Vercingetorix!”