OOC: legend-the-dragoon-the-lost-spirits-t9225-20.html#p247321

Twice in the history of Endiness were the legendary Dragoon called upon to liberate the free spirits of Endiness. The Dragon Campaign, the deadly and violent rebellion against the Winglies, created the powerful warriors, capable of commanding Dragons. The success of that war provided liberation for the previously subservient human race. The second time proved to be an unprecedented arrival of the second Dragoons. This resulted in the death of the fabled Melbu Frahma and prevention of the reign of the God of Destruction. Several years passed, generation upon generation grew, and the Legend of the Dragoon once again became just that. The lives of Dart Feld, King Albert, former Dragoon Rose, the last Giganto Kongol, the human loving Winglie Meru, martial arts master Haschel, and the sacred sister Miranda had faded into memory. Peace once again reigned and people forgot the meaning in such memories and they were transformed into stories. Things to appease the curious child in order to make him fall into sleep. However, no matter how often the times change, the golden rule remains: History repeats itself...

The kingdom of Serdio stayed noble, and it stayed true. The bloodline that followed king Albert proved to be as fair as he, and the power and peace established provided the greatest morale that the continent had ever seen. Soon, however, the ubiquitous destroyer and builder of nations, the double edged sword that both united people and bred animosity, rode in on its red horse with its weapon at the ready: War was brought to Serdio's doorstep. A race of legendary warriors arose out of the seas and charged with unstoppable power throughout Endiness. The creatures, Umbarru as they were called, were older than the Dragon Campaign. By the time of the Dragon Campaign, there were none that could believe that the antagonists of Winglie nightmares were more than legend. It was now, at this time of war, that the Umbarru were proven to be real. The Death Frontier was instantly established as their base of war, and as war spreads to all countries in the continent oblivion is on the horizon. Something ominous is happening behind the scenes, and while there are no plans to locate and use the Dragoon spirits (in fact it is only on the minds of children), fate has a way of bringing forth the weapons needed for success...

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*In a forest outside Bale*

Gael leaned against a tree, the moonlight shining down from the heavens through the canopy of leaves. The elderly man, while he held the appearance of an ancient sage, was not even slightly fatigued after his long day of travel. While observing the passing of the stars through the cloudless night sky, Gael became increasingly worried about the safety of himself and his beloved nation. It wouldn't be long before things would come together, and no matter how obvious the signs were in the skies that it was going to happen, there was no clue as to why. Setting his equipment down under the tent he had made, the old man laid his head down to catch rest before morning.

The wind breezed through his sandy locks as his steed galloped through the clearing. The port city of Donau would soon be in view. Port cities were best place to find Marks. People always coming and going it would normally be a thief’s paradise. Unfortunately the guard there had a keen eye. If one was to pull anything off they had to be careful.

As his horse cantered into the city he began to scan the crowd of people. Many of them were tourists and he didn’t feel right going after them. He was by no means a petty thief. This was just a stop off till he could get to the big score. The lowly thief was looked down on, seen as excrement. The Jewel Thief however … now that was the life. He had made his way to the port when his horse nudged him. Marcus stopped and looked around. “Good eye Lightning, good eye.”

Lightning had nudged him toward a merchant that was to the trained eye, cheating his customers. Marcus looked toward the ferry that would be leaving soon. The timing would have to be just right. “Do you think we can pull it off?”

His horse responded with a low whiny. “Alright let’s get prepped.”

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The more I try the more I fail. Peace time is the worst thing that can happen to a soldier. Our former captain was out of practice as were the men. Do to his untimely demise it has fallen on me to shape them into the men they were meant to be. This enemy… it is unlike anything I could have imagined. How can one be so powerful? The men are frightened. I don’t blame them. I’m a little frightened myself. What do they want? Why have they come here? There are many questions but there is only one answer. They want our extinction. I will not have it! If I have to travel into the Abyss it self I will find away.

Vincent put his pen down and rubbed his tired fingers. He closed his log and blew out the candle that supplied the light. He stood up and donned the cape of his rank and left the tent. “Lieutenant, report!”

“Sir!” the man replied with fist over heart in salute. The man had a grim look in his eyes as he spoke. “It isn’t good sir. The enemy is proving to be too much for us. If we don’t receive reinforcements soon…”

“I understand. Have the men fall back. Tactical retreat, burn the fields as they run. Fall back to the keep. We’ll hold up there until help arrives.”

He walked the line of ranks. Many of them were young. They signed up wanting to protect their country. He was proud of them all. Each knew when they signed up that it was potentially their death warrant. He patted them all on the shoulder as he made his way down the line. No words needed to be said.
“Rest as much is possible. On the marrow Hell will be at our doorstep. They want us destroyed. We will respond in kind.” He looked out toward the horizon. The glow from the fires illuminated the sky marred only by the thick smoke.

Dante was in the library doing the usual. Stacking books, or reading them. He came across quite a strange one. It was a book about the Legendary Dragoon Spirits. A very interesting book. He had began reading the book today. Not much is known. It seemed some of the pages were torn out. But from what he read, they were quite powerful spirits. Powerful enough to take over the world if they put there minds to it.

Someone came in and asked for a book. "Sorry, this section of the library is restricted, let me lead you out." he said as he walked the person out. He found the man the book he wanted and he was off. He then went back to his books, reading the story.

Kai quickly rushed into the library sighing and looking around. It had been raining outside and he was soaked, but his reason for entering the library was not that. It was the fact that their was a book he had been looking for that would help him with his blacksmithing skillls and such, so he would need to find this book to update his skill in those areas. He slowly and silently walked on the marble floor over to a man that was reading what seemed to be a intresting book but stopped, he turned around and made his way to over to the other side of the library, but tripped over a book and made a loud noise as he hit the ground, he quickly ran over to the book shelves and began searching before he could be intterupted or talked to.

Moloch watched the Serdian warriors fall back, the flames from torches fueled by oils engulfing the fields relentlessly. However, even though the Serdians did not know it, the flame was a blasphemous part of the Umbarran religion. To use flames in battle was to spit in the face of the gods, and thus declare holy war. The demonic beings roared with anger and hatred as they saw this used, but still, Moloch was passive. Some Umbarrans were declared damned at birth, and this warrior was one of them.

"Enough taunting," Moloch shouted, every word being accented with a visible blast of icy air escaping his lips, "Save your breath for the genocide. Those flames only delay the inevitable. We can break through now, but the energy needed will be greater. Allow them to rest. Allow them to plan. Allow them to recuperate. It makes no difference now."

The leader of the units present merely nodded and carried the order out. Moloch led no troops, held no official rank. He was the aid of the General, and his fame in battle gave his word more store than anyone, save the General. While the troops fell back slightly from the flames to make their camp, Moloch did not. Rest was something he had never known for thousands of years. He stood at the edge of the flaming wall, letting the heat wash over him. When the fire subsided, he would be the first thing the soldiers laid eyes on...

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Gael made his wake earlier than expected. Far earlier. As much as he would love the luxury of sleep, the shabby tent he had was worn and the rain penetrated the many holes in it. With a sigh he packed up, not trying to dodge the pellets of rainfall in vain. Once he was ready, the old man set off to the city.

The walk was short, but wet nonetheless. While it wasn't quite morning, many places had already opened. The one he needed the facilities of was the inn that rested a mere alley's length away from the library. Gael chuckled as he saw a youth charge his way inside from the rain, and didn't blame him much. Once inside the inn, after a short rest and wash, Gael sat in the lobby by the window and spied out at the library, wondering if the youth that had so eagerly entered would exit in the same fashion, and if so, what would he have? The stars had led him to Bale, and he wondered if they had led him to this inn so close to a library. Or rather, so close to the people in it.


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Barrata was by no means equipped to stalk around without being seen. The man was roughly a head taller than anyone else in the flowery city. It disgusted him. So much life in something so weak and gentle. However, when the giant of a man saw the man with a horse he manage to grin some inside. Now that was the perfect representation of how cruel life was. Death was not cruel, but submission, true submission, that was a life that begged for the sweet freedom of death. This beast, for legs and powerful, was made to be a carrier of packs and passengers by a species superior than itself. It was this that Barrata respected, this that Barrata loved, about the sentient races: its domination. The giant man stood near the ferry, knowing he needed to catch it once it left. Where it was going, he did not know, but he knew the destination was irrelevant compared to the trip. However, it was obvious given the size of the vessel that it would not be very far from the regurgitation of live and colors named Donau.

"aha..." he said in a low tone of voice as he lifted up the book. It was made of stone and had a gold face plate that said something in a ancienct language that he would have to get his sister to decode.
"hmmm" he said as he just stared at the book. He then decided it was the right one and looked around once agian. He looked over to the man at the desk reading the book then shrugged as his sister walked into the library soak and wet. Someone was behind her. A shady dressed man who had a hooded cape and she had a very mean look. She quickly stood to the side and said nothing as the man walked forward. Kai then noticed the man was a bit bigger than him and new he wasnt of his race. The man then just stood their and stared at Kai, and Kai stared back saying nothing. It was 2 people talking with words.

Marcus walked up to the merchant. He was a short slightly pudgy man with a bulbous nose and squinty brown eyes. He had a dark bushy mustache covering his upper lip, a gold hoop in both ears and an assortment of gold chains and rings. His hair was tucked neatly underneath an orange turban. He was a colorful man wearing an orange shirt topped by a plaid vest and multicolored pantaloons. “Sir, you look like an honest man.”

“Hmm…” The merchant turned to see who addressed him and his eyes lit up. The man standing before him was wearing a white highlander’s shirt topped by a black suede doublet and black trews. His eyes were as blue as blue the sea and his hair like fine sand. He had a face that would make women swoon and the build of swordsman. The greedy little merchant licked his lips. Might he be in the presence of a nobleman? If he played his cards right he could get quite a haul. “Greetings good sir, what can I do for you on this fine day?”

Marcus saw the glint in the man’s eyes and smiled inwardly. “I seem to have a bit of a problem. You see I’m heading out to see but my horse is, well my horse can’t go.”

The merchant looked at him with a puzzled expression. “They allow horses on the boat you know.”

Marcus put his hand on the man’s shoulder and leaned in close. “He’s afraid of boats.”

“Oh, I see.” The merchant said. “What does this have to do with me?”

“I can’t just abandon him you see? So I need an honest man to take care of him while I’m gone.” Marcus said as he gestured toward the animal.

“You want to give him to me?” The Merchant asked. “Tell me about him.”

Marcus smiled, he had him now. “Why, he’s a fine steed with perfect teeth and strong back. I call him Lightning because he’s the fastest horse in the realm. He’d make a fine pack horse for your wares and he can get you where you need to go as long boats aren’t involved of course.”

The merchant rubbed his chin as he eyed the horse. It was a fine looking animal, a Serdian Stallion by the look of it. “It is a fine horse. I assume this isn’t a free exchange?”

“It wouldn’t be right to just give him away. It would insult him.” Marcus said while looking the little man in the eye. “I’ll take a thousand. Now before you protest listen to my offer. Pay a thousand for him now and when I return a few months from now I’ll give you five thousand to reclaim him.”

“Five thousand… Sir, you have a deal.” The two men shook hands after the exchange was made and parted ways.

Marcus walked over to the port and bought passage to sea. During his little exchange with the merchant he was aware that he was being watched. He walked over the man that stood and shoulders of the rest. “Don’t see many Gigantos around here. The Name’s Marcus, what’s yours?” He said extending his hand in greeting.

Barrata couldn't hear the words being exchanged in the affair, yet he was sure that this man was up to something. Giving a horse away, unless it was injured or sickly, was not a thing often seen anywhere in Endiness. When the man approached him the giant didn't even notice his extended hand, yet it wouldn't have mattered if he had. Arms still crossed on his chest, he looked down at Marcus to see if there was any visible threat in the jewel thief. Not seeing any, but remaining wary, Barrata looked back up and spoke in his deep, gruff, yet easily discernible voice.

"Gigantos are gone, and I'm surprised you know them. And you can call me Baratta, Marcus. Where does this ferry lead to?"

“It’s true they are gone, yet here you stand. I heard a story from a fair maiden in the city of Fletz. It told of “Seven Stars” that saved their city from a great tragedy. One of the “Stars” was said to be a mountain. This mountain was said to be the last of its kind but it has been my experience that, from one can come many.” Marcus glanced over at the merchant who busy swindling another customer.

“Anyway,” he said as he turned back to his new acquaintance, it’s nice to meet you Baratta. To answer your question, the ferry crosses Illysa Bay to Feuno. I’ll be getting off at an island along the way.”