A night of visions and portents, a lone Aasimar seeking a lonely Kobold. The sound of crashing and shouting coming from within a lonely, yet stately domicile in the middle of the city of Drezen, and then silence. Nev crosses the threshold, the stench of alcohol and vomit wafting through the air, until he finds Tarvax weeping beneath a pile of blanket tatters, the room a mess, pure turmoil manifest.

Words of comfort are spoken, words of fear and anguish heard, tight-lipped truths loosened and slurred between scaled lips, and before long, silence as the smaller of the two passes out, the larger holding on, fingers slightly stroking scale in solidarity.

These are ancient demons, far older than any the Summoner once parleyed with, but for now the battle is at a pause, the gentle snores portending the arrival of a pleasant dream.

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A wonderful piece by  Sinful_Ink featuring my Kobold, Tarvax, and  Acroth's character, Nev, who is giving Tarvax some much-needed comfort following the death and resurrection of a mutual friend of theirs.