The Warning. Hoard of the Dragon Queen -Rest period after Cyanwrath's Encounter *Spoilers*

Raan watched and listened at the doorway of what was once a kobold barracks in the winding tunnels of the Cults hideout.
Less than an hour before the company had squared off against Landrigosa, the Blue Half-Dragon that had duelled and defeated Kilvarax, the company's own Dragonkin warrior.
Although Landrigosa had acted honourably by allowing the hostages to go free once the duel was completed, Raan had sworn that he wouldn't allow something as trivial as honour to encumber the delivery of true justice.

He heard the tell tale scratching of Kil's clawed feet and the swish that his tail made as he pivoted. Then the clack, clack, clack as he approached. He controlled the urge to cringe at the noise it created, considering anything left in here likely knew their position.

In the dim light Raan gave him a nod to acknowledge his presence as Kil took up a flanking position on the other side of the door.
It seemed an eternity passed, neither of them looking at one another, maintaining their vigil for the sake of the camp.
"What you did," came Kil's guttural draconic voice, "was no small feat."
Raan looked briefly in surprise but for a moment.
"But  rob me of my vengeance again." Kil left the threat open.
Raan had thought about this conversation since the aftermath of the battle, anticipating such a confrontation.
It was in this moment that something else occurred to him.
"You're right. I acted hastily, and in doing so, took your chance for vengeance."
This caused Kil to offer a small sideways glance.
"I granted justice to all of those that devil would have maimed and killed in Greenest." Raan looked at him squarely. " The truest course of justice was to allow you the kill. To bare witness to the justice you would have wrought." He looked back to the doorway. "I won't make that mistake again."

Raan and Kilvarax finished the rest of the watch in silence.
Each respecting the other a little more than they'd ever let on.

Reassurance and Reward. - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Raan closed the door to his room back at Nighthill's keep and immediately threw off his pack and cloak. He fumbled with the clasps on his breastplate as he suddenly felt as if it were a weight chrushing the air from his lungs.
With a final heave he flung it from him and as it clattered to the ground, so did he.
His undershirt was damp and it clung to him. Beads of sweat formed and ran down his face as he processed the events of the last few hours.

He took a deep, calming breath to steel his nerves and peeled the soaked garment off, feeling every muscle protest in doing so. Burns, cuts and bruises adorned his torso and arms. He and the band that had come together on the road to Greenest had endured so much in a short time.

Moving to his knees, Raan uncoupled his two swords and placed the longer blade out with in front of him to his right and the shorter to his left.
Finally he removed the pendant from around his neck. Placing it directly down in front of him.
He focused on it intently as he regulated his breathing. It's unblemished surface, the symbol of the hand holding a single coin, caught the  flickering light of the hearth. 
Soon the room fell away and there was only his swords, the coin and darkness as he slowly closed his eyes.
"My love." Came the ethereal whisper of his lost wife's voice. His eyes snapped open there standing before him in a field of grass stood his beloved. Adorned in a dress of royal blue, her favourite colour. It was decorated in the finest patterns and it clung to her slender frame. Her face was clear and full of colour. The Elven part of her heritage visable in the shape and clarity of her eyes, and the slight points of her ears peeking out from her flowing black hair that moved slightly in the breeze. A jeweled band of silver keeping it back from her face. In her hands, she held his sheathed sword against her breast.

He knew better to answer, as to risk breaking concentration was to risk losing this glorious vision.
"My love," she whispered again, "you are on a dangerous path. You honour your family with every life you save. The evil you extinguish makes the living world a better place."
The words washed over him like the suns rays breaking through a dark cloud.
He began to feel rejuvenated as the aches and pains of his last encounter ebbed away.
"But there is more danger ahead, Father."
Came the voice of his beloved daughter.
She appeared from behind her mother's skirts and moved to stand in front of Raan's smaller blade. "More people to help. More people that are in pain."
She was every bit her mother in appearance.  The same shaped eyes and face. She wore a simple dress, her hair in a plait. 

He watched her pick up the other sword that was bestowed upon him when Assuran had spared his life and gave him the choice.
"Let us both help you." Said his wife as she offered the hilt of the sword she carried.
"Father," came his little girls voice as she took a step forward, offering the other hilt. "Let me help too."
Raan reached out and grasped both hilts and in unison his family stepped backwards, keeping hold of the pair of swords and revealing their keen edges.
"Goodbye, Father."
"Go, my love."
They both spoke together as a blinding light struck Raan. He struggled to keep his eyes open not wanting to lose sight of his family.
He finally relented and looked away from the searing light to find himself back in his room within the keep, both blades now in his hands.
He stood up, completely renewed and healed. No marks of the battles upon him, no fatigue or aches, yet, something was different.
The two blades in his hands felt lighter than before. More of an extension in his hands than just two swords.
He made a small figure eight with the smaller of the swords that he had held in his left hand.
There was no clumsiness or feeling of being awkward or weaker. He put both the swords through a few simple drills and soon realised that he could use these weapons together, no weakness on one side or the other. He threw both blades up and caught them again in opposite hands without a hint of slowing down.
Faster and faster he spun the blades in unison until they were a humming blur of steel!
When he finally paused, he could not help but smile.
It was only then that he noticed the morning sun creep into the room from the open window. It was morning already? As his stomach growled the answer to his question.
He quickly strapped on his blades and donned a fresh shirt.
Before walking from the room he replaced any hint of happiness with his customary scowl. 

Appearances had to be maintained after all.