Saphira was traveling with a sorceress, the woman who had helped bring her into the world and raised her. It was the first time they had left the isolated home which she was hatched and raised in, and was all she really knew. Sylvine the sorceress wanted to keep their destination a surprise, so Saphira had no idea where they were headed. Unfortunately, she would never find out. Late one night, as she rested above in the spot where a branch met the trunk of an oak tree, they came. They were orc bandits, and Saphira was awoken by their heavy footsteps, even though they were trying to be quiet. She cried out for help, even if she was doubtful if any would hear her. The orcs turned to her and she wasn’t sure what to do, only that she wanted to protect Sylvine at any cost.

Leaping from her branch and flying toward them she dived into them with a flurry as she began trying to beat them with her wings and bite them with her beak. Annoyed, one of the orcs swatted her away with the back of his massive hand. Saphira fell to the ground and hit her head on a rock, slipping unconscious. By now Sylvine was awake and came out of her tent to see what was going on. Unfortunately, before she could even cast a spell to repel the orcs, one of them slit her throat and then stabbed her in the chest for good measure. With that done, they were free to rifle through her possessions, taking any magical trinkets and valuables they could find. As they turned to leave the camp, they looked at Saphira once more. One of them laughed and grabbed her limp body, lifting her up by the base of her neck. “Girl didn’t have much, but looks like we found dinner.” The rest of the orcs laughed too and began to walk away from the ruined campsite.

Compared to the Sarchu Valley where turas had recently been in surch of a place to make a lair this place had way more to eat but way less in places ro hide. Also seamed that there where not as many travellers. And less to take from so her hord couldnot grow so much. And a small hord lead to an unhappy turas. 

That said the site of smoke caught her attention. To human form she turned and walked tword the light. Her brown overcoat hiding her weapons and hat cocompleting the look. She pulled out her throwing knifs and threw tham at the orks. In seconds all of the orks were dead and she was rummaging through there stuff. 

Much like her, thay have has little luck on the business of take and kill but there was coin and nicely sheathed blades. Most of wich would need cleaned. Than came the most mouthwatering smell. The smell of tosting birds. 

She sat by the fire and pulled the rosted fild mice out of the fire before taking the bird off of the rotating stick. "Stupid orks cant cook to save there life. You do not tie the bird on a stick. You gut it and skewer or the rome rewens the meat." She mumbled as she worked on undoing the nots.

Poor Saphira must have hit her head pretty hard, as she remained unconscious all the way back to the ork camp. It was indeed true that they didn’t seem to have a clue how to properly cook a fowl, as they didn’t pluck her feathers out either. That probably would have awoken her though, so maybe it wasn’t so good for Saphira that they hadn’t tried. They just tied her legs together and bound her wings to her body and strung her up over a fire attached by rope to a stick. She eventually started to come around as she roasted above the fire, her feathers getting a bit singed from the heat. Even if she had fully awoken though, there was no way she could have escaped her binds, so it was fortunate that someone came by to kill the orcs and pulled her off the fire. She finally came to as Turas was beginning to untie bindings that were wrapping her up.

Groggy at first, she didn’t register all of what Turas said, only catching the part about the proper way being to skewer the bird rather than tie it to a stick. She panicked and tried to flap her wings but they were still tied down to her body, so all she could do was squirm as she cried. “Please don’t eat me, I don’t want to die!” Eventually she noticed that her feathers were burnt in several places, and there was an odd stinging sensation across the skin of her wings, belly/breast, and part of her neck. Finally, her head was starting to clear and she remembered the orks attacking, and now noticed they were dead all around the camp. She looked up at Turas. “Wait a minute, it was the orks that were trying to cook me. You saved me?”

At the sudden squirming of the bird she lifted her hands from the ropes not wanting rope burns or punches. She than reached to her boots to grab a dagger to kill the thing when it spoke like a twolegged. She tilted her head. Than desided this thing was under magic of some sort or a deamon and eating it would resolute in bad stuff.

"Stop squirming it only tightens the nots and rope. And i guess i saved ya. Stupid orks were on my land taking what was mine to take. Only reason i came. You were not prepared wright for a fire but well im not going to eat some cursed goose when there are plenty of cooked mice on the fire. Now stop moving."

She reached for her knife and cut the ropes and placed it back. 

Saphira was blissfully unaware that Turas had been about to kill her only to hesitate when she spoke, and it was probably for the best that she didn’t know. She stopped squirming and held still so that Turas could continue freeing her from the binds she was in, and once all the knotted rope was cut away she moved back from Turas a bit to give her some space and began the lengthy task of preening her feathers, which were unfortunately quite a mess after all that had transpired, not to mention being a bit burnt in places. “Oh, my poor feathers, and molting season is still more than half a year away.” She complained as she tried her best to fix things but in addition to the fire, the way the orks had roughly tied her up, and her squirming as Turas untied her, had taken a toll. She sighed a bit and looked back at Turas.

“Even if you hadn’t been planning on saving me, I must thank you. If you hadn’t come along when you did, I’d have much more serious problems than just burnt and otherwise damaged feathers. As close as I came, I think I’d rather not go through the process of being cooked alive over a fire… My name is Saphira, once a familiar to a elven sorceress, but the orks killed her before they took me as dinner. Lucky I was just knocked out and they thought I was dead, so they didn’t finish me off.

"I wish." She said at the statment of molting season being half a year away. It may be a different thing for birds but she would be shedding soon. And for reptiles it was a very itchy processes shhe was not looking forward to.

"Yea ya are just lucky they are to dumd and lazzy to properly prepare a goose for the fire. Feathers rewin the taiste of the meat and give a very unappetizing smell." She pocketed up a fild mouse and started pulling off the brunt skin than started to pull of pieces of the meat and eat. "And orks prefer life cooked over properly cooked around here. But the fact they robbed a sorceress explains some of the really odd stuff."

“Right, weren’t you saying something about skewering earlier? If they had run a stake through me I surely wouldn’t be here to talk about it now. I’m not a goose though, geese are much smaller and have a shorter neck. I’m mostly swan, though some peafowl was mixed in as part of the magic that the sorceress used to make me how I am. Same magic made me age slower and also increased my capacity for intelligence. Though, even she wasn’t really expecting I’d be able to learn to speak on my own. As for the burnt feather smell, maybe it’ll wash off if I take a bath, but I don’t know. Suppose I’m thankful I don’t have much of a sense of smell.” She stated as she folded her legs and sat down, looking up at Turas. “So, what are you going to do now that you’ve taken out these orcs and taken everything they stole? Part of me feels like I should ask you for Sylvine’s belongings, but I have no use for them, and I guess I am not really in a position to ask for anything after you saved my life rather than killing me and eating me yourself.”

"I said a lot whin you were a dead goose incorrectly tied over the fire. Thought ya'd be a good meal tell you spoke. Good thing ya did to. I would prefer not to eat some hexed bird if i can help it. Also what in revaliir is a peafowl?" She said not really noticing any small other than the well cooked mice. 

"You're features arn't bad burt. Well at least not anouph to make a smell like i was taking about." She said as she watched the swan like bird sit down. "I did not take all that they stole just the coin, trinkets, and weapons they had. Im sure that you can have whatever is left." She threw the remains of the mouse into the fire and started on the next one.

"What am I going to do? Well probably use there tent to sleep tonight before leaving to find a place to call home. This place has plenty to eat but lack of income and it would take way to much work to build a home here."