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Kasumi had heard of Yisol and the things hse has always heard weren't good things. He was someone bound for greatness, but could never accept Sanctuary. The stories she heard always said he was impatient, ill-tempered, evil... but the evil was not always there. He just never understood the glory of goodness, of seeing people and nature as something more than a means-to-an-end.
When Kyra says she senses Yisol, it gives her the creeps. Goosebumps rise and her body tingles -- a cold clammy tingle. She looks around, making sure no one or nothing else is around them. She has spent a considerable amount of time afraid in the past months and her senses sometimes play tricks on her. "Do you think he can sese us?" she asks Kyra.

The Adventurers Journey

His fury catches Hima totally by surprise, "I didn't uh..." is all she can get out. His anger has him speaking in a tongue that she isn't familiar with before he returning to one that she does understand.

"Someone like me?!..." his anger causes her to fall backwards landing on her rear trying desperately to scoot away. As he rages in anger.
Hima's faces twinges in panic, her breath hiccuping from her mouth, her head flailing left-and-right then back to center, all she can muster is a series of broken words and phrases, "I'm so... I didn...uh...I'm... No..." She continues scooting back into an obelisk that she climbs against wobbling to her feet. This is the second misunderstanding they've had and she's sure this could easily be the last time.

Finally, the creature ceases his angered fury at her. She watches, frightened and awed by the creature as a few final puffs of smoke flare from his nostrils. "Sleep now. We shall move in the morning."

Hima hesitantly leans toward her bag, crying as she picks it up. She never meant it as an insult, nor did she think he was some sort of mindless, sociopathic assassin. She opens her mouth for a brief second to explain herself, but decides against it. She decides it best not to take a chance on infuriating him again. Taking her bag, still crying, she drops her daggers on the road and slogs away to the other side of the obelisk, sits on the ground and cries.
It's been a long time since she has cried, she's found it unnecessary and counterproductive to cry. But, in this case the fear she just felt combined with the guilt she feels for having unintentionally insulted him has left her little alternative. As she cries, she thinks about what he said; how there were people who had slaughtered dragons for their teeth and tongues. How so many had been wiped out. Those were not the stories she had heard from the tellers in her younger years. The stories she heard were of gallant warriors riding off to save villages from marauding evil dragons.
She takes a few sobby breaths, turns over on her knees and out from the protection of the obelisk. Opening her pouch, she pulls out her part of the map, "Here," she says through her tears and throws the paper in his direction. "I'm sau... sau... sorry for what ha...hap...happened. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." she slides back behind the obelisk. "A woman in the village who was dying told me its part of the map to the scroll." she yells out from her position. "I know you hate me because I'm human. I do wanna help you. I really do. But...I understand why you hate me. And if you're gone come dawn... welll... good luck. I'm not even sure it really leads to the scroll. But, if it does... I was fine before I had it and I'll be fine if you take it."

Hima returns to crying and clutching her bag tightly against her body. She decides that the map probably means more to him than it does to her. She knows he didn't kill all these people and whoever did is a greater threat to her than him. If it was that group that passed by earlier that slaughtered the village, they'd have a much easier time snatching it from her than they would from him.


Outfit The Druid Hex:#b54ea2

Ada looked down at the earpiece in her hand. It looked similar enough to her old one. She nodded along to Kit’s explanation. Ada wasn’t the most techy member of the group, Kit didn’t really have any competition in that category, so about half his explanation went over her head. It worked and that was enough for her.

She followed Kit through the crowd. A scavenger hunt for Bella was a much better offer than whatever her parents were talking about. She honestly didn’t think she could face another evening nodding and smiling while business was being discussed. Perfect daughter.

“What’s been going on?” she asked, scanning the crowd for signs of their friends. Ada linked her hand into the crook of Kit’s arm so she didn’t lose him in the sea of philanthropy and ego-trips. Something weird was going on beneath the surface and she really didn't want to be last person to find out what was going on.

Outfit Variant Hex:#1a7572

Cameron felt a pang in his chest when he saw the blood on Kieran’s face. It wasn’t that big a deal in the grander scheme of things, but he still didn’t like the thought of his friend being in pain. He felt his hand twitch, fighting the instinct to wipe away the blood. “And here I am all out of Kleenex.” His words trailed off as he realised that Kieran was looking past him. He took a half-step to the side when Kie launched forward, turning to see his would-be attacker turn to dust. There were times when the two of them were hanging out that it was easy to forget just how powerful Kieran was. Then there were times like this that abruptly reminded Cameron how fiercely powerful his beautiful best friend was. Most people would be afraid, but Cameron had never felt safer.

“Sorry. I’m fine again if you wanna go… rejoin the fight or whatever.”

Cam crossed his arms. He wasn’t exactly Sherlock, but even he could see Kieran’s hands trembling. “I’m good here.” Cam quickly looked over at the carnage behind them. He watched himself knock out one of the stragglers with the butt of a gun. “Never really left if you think about it.” He looked back at Kie. “I’m here until you’re actually fine, ok?”

Across the building, Variant was headed down to the basement. His stomach was in knots. His memories were filing themselves into place, snapshots of half-remembered fights laying on top of each other. The world around him felt fuzzy while he caught up with himself. He shook his head as though that would knock everything into place. He heard his voice over the intercom directing Wiccan to the basement. That would be another set of memories to filter through later on.

As he came down to the basement level, Variant could see that the huge roller doors were open halfway. He paused and pressed himself against the wall. The only footsteps he could hear were behind him. He took a deep breath and ducked under the rollers. It took a moment to realise just what he was looking at. Instead of the usual museum archives full of priceless artefacts, he was looking at row upon row of shipping containers. “Fuck…” He looked back at Drake and Wiccan. “You’re seeing this, right?”

New Babbage

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Raz’s internal alarm went off, signaling the end of her shift in one of the many repair bays that made up the DOLL maintenance facility she worked in. She had been reassigned to this facility along with many other combat engineers as soon as the war ended, with orders to work in shifts repairing the massive influx of DOLLs. All units were being retrieved, many of which needed extensive repairs.

Finishing the reattachment of the muscle cables in her current patient, she wiped herself down with some machine shop towels, taking care to meticulously clean her delicate suture equipment before retracting it back into her hands. Opening up recording software, she began the last step in her shift finishing routine, detailing what repairs had been completed on the DOLL as well as which ones still needed to be done. After ending the recording and sending it off, Raz let out a long sigh.

Wow, you sound like you need a recharge,” A lighthearted voice spoke behind her. Turning around she saw a familiar repair DOLL, seeming to have just finished their shift as well. At a glance, he seemed to be sporting some new scratches on his silicone skin, and she could see one of his hyperspectral sensors twitching again. He would need to have it replaced soon. Standing, she joined him in walking towards the front door.

Those muscle cables are always a bitch and a half to string back together, and I had four DOLLs today with extensive damage to several muscle groups. My suture kit is aching from it.

Hey, just be glad it isn’t reattaching a limb altogether, I had a DOLL with both her legs blown off. I spent over an hour figuring out which bits were her and which were just shrapnel. Ended up just detaching what was left of her thighs at her hip and giving her new legs.” The male DOLL grimaced at the thought of the mangled metal.

Isn’t that your fourth and fifth complete limb replacement this week? The floor manager isn’t gonna be happy with you using so many parts.” Raz remarked. With the sudden influx of DOLLs in need of repair, parts were often rationed or restricted in some way to make the supply last until the next shipment came. Similarly, they were encouraged to prioritize leaving DOLLs in a “good enough” state rather than making them near mint condition.

The male DOLL shrugged. “Yeah, well they can kiss my metal ass. What am I supposed to do, leave her without legs? Nobody is going to hire a DOLL that isn’t useful, assuming they hire a DOLL at all.” While DOLLs were available to the general workforce now, there was an overall distrust amongst humans. Raz hadn’t heard of many DOLLs being hired by humans outside of private security or manual labor. “Well, do you have any plans tonight? I was thinking of checking out one of those DOLL friendly parks, letting my back panels soak up some sun. You could come with if you want.

I’ll pass, thanks.” Raz said with a shrug. “They recommended we decorate our pods to our liking, and I haven’t done that yet. Have you?

Kind of. I don’t really know what to decorate with. I mean, it’s not like decorating is part of our base programming. I’ve just been looking up human decor examples and imitating those.

Raz nodded in agreement. She too had been struggling to think of how she wanted her pod to look. It wasn’t overly big, perhaps the size of a large human bedroom. Still, she felt like it would do her good to make it a bit more welcoming.

Isn’t there a store with that kind of stuff around here? I remember the orientation mentioning a few locations.” The two had exited the building, leaving Raz to look around at the surrounding cityscape.

Yeah, it’s down a couple blocks that way.” The male DOLL pointed down the street to their left. “Well, if you’re not joining me then I’ll see you around.” The DOLL waved goodbye and walked away towards his pod building, while Raz headed in the direction he had pointed. She hadn’t done any research on home decor, but she’d figure it out when she saw what the store had.

How hard could interior design be?

Camp Athens

blair carmichael



wesley preston

Blair was so lost searching every new face as it entered the arena that she hadn't noticed someone approaching her.

"Can I help?"

She looked up, a bit startled, even more surprised to find it was Duke, of all people. While their conversation they had the day before might not have got them off on the right foot, the situation was dire enough that neither one of them seemed to harbor any ill will. She sighed and gave a weak smile. "I doubt it... I'm looking for my brother. We got separated in the middle of—" Her hand waved around, motioning generally towards everything.

Her gaze briefly drifted towards Sloane, who hurried through the crowd and out of the arena. While the girls never had bad blood between them, there was a sour taste that remained after how much heartbreak the girl put her brother through. Lochlan would be better off ignoring Sloane and giving her a wide birth. But no. The idiot had to run to save her the second he saw her in trouble and now Blair was the one left waiting and worrying while the beefy Ares boy got the laurels for saving Sloane.

Blair pulled her eyes away to look back over at Duke with a sad smile. "Were you hurt?" she asked while looking him over for any signs of injury. Funny how she chose to fuss over someone else rather than address her bloody shoulder or the scratches she gained from being dragged along the forest floor. It was rare for Blair to be so altruistic but it distracted her... And maybe it helped that Duke was cute.

Before she could say anything else, Blair's gaze drifted toward the entrance in time to see Lochlan limping into view helping carrying a hot, half naked, bleeding guy. Without a word she gasped and half stumbled her way down the stands toward her brother. She barely gave him a moment to brace himself after setting the man down before she pulled him into a tight hug. "Thank the Gods." She had half a mind to scold him about him leaving her to chase after Sloane, but even she wasn't a big enough bitch to air that laundry out in front of everyone. It could wait.

In the middle of their hug, something magnetic pulled at Blair, begging her to open her eyes and look down at the unconscious man on the ground. He was gorgeous, like ungodly so. For a brief moment everything around her melted away... Until her gaze fell upon the large gash in his thigh and the blood spilling from it.

"Come on. You need to wake up and give me directions," the worried blonde said as she cupped the guy's head, begging for him to wake up.

Blair's eyes blinked quickly like trying to fight off sleep. She pulled away from her brother and dragged her eyes from the gorgeous guy to look at, what she assumed was, the distressed girlfriend. "He's going to bleed out if we don't close that up..."

Without another word, she left the small group and began looking around. They were in an arena, so there had to be a metal weapon somewhere. She had to search for a bit but eventually found a gladius. Blair hurried back over to the group and plunged the blade into the closest lit brazier. "It'll stop the bleeding, but he isn't going to like it," It wasn't much of a warning but she figured she should tell the girl before burning the shit out of her guy's leg.

Once the blade looked hot enough, Blair quickly knelt down beside them, using her knees to pin the guy's uninjured leg. "I need you to hold him down." It took more self control than she wanted to admit, but she managed to push the leg of his boxers out of the way. She took a deep breath then pressed the hot metal against the large wound.

Wes's eyes immediately snapped open. He screamed out in pain and would have sat up abruptly if he weren't being held down. But even with multiple hands on him, he jerked so much he nearly kneed the brunette. Luckily, she was able to hold the blade in place long enough to cauterize the wound before his thrashing knocked her over.

In other circumstances Blair would have been pissed off, and part of her still was, but she said nothing. She winced slightly, trying not to use her shoulder too much or let it touch the ground as she got up. Back on her feet, she gave Lochlan a gentle tap on the shoulder. "Let's find a tent."

It wasn't until Blair was retreating with her brother that Wes stopped reeling and managed to catch his breath. He groaned as he propped himself up on his elbow. His gaze fell from his missing bionic arm to his burnt, blood covered thigh. "On my way to becoming a cripple," he joked with a weak laugh.

Wes managed to force himself into a sitting position so that his hand was free to graze Trinity's cheek softly. "You ok, Blondie?"

It didn't take long for Blair to stumble upon an unoccupied tent. While sleeping in a cot was definitely not on her list of fun activities, she'd have to settle for it. Lochlan was in no shape to limp his way back to their cabins, and honestly, there was a solid chance that they were no longer standing. As she guided him inside, her eyes drifted back toward the rest of the arena, Duke stood not far from where she left him. She sighed. "Go sit down. I'll be back."

She made her way back over to Duke, placing her hand gently on his forearm to get his attention. "Sorry. You were being nice and I was rude." Blair cleared her throat, apologizing was definitely not something that came easy to her. "Thank you for checking on me." She pointed in the direction of the tent Lochlan was in. "That's our tent if you'd like help... or just someone to talk to." She gave him a lopsided, tired smile. "Promise you can still hate me in the morning."

Without another word Blair wandered back over to their tent. She sighed as she looked over her brother. "Alright, spill... What stupid shit did you do for her?"

Cabin # 1 Zeus

Cabins Cabin # 1 Zeus Owner: RolePlayGateway

/say hey i'm layla but my close friends call me lay :)

Je m’appeles Sobraxus. Et toi?

Main Street
Leviathan waited for the winds to return a reply, but heard nothing — all but the hum of spacecraft, coming from the bizarre area to the north. Having been asleep for over a decade in his own time, this was a new sound in a city that felt unfamiliar, despite this very creature being there at the beginning.

In a huff, Leviathan stomped off, stepping over one building before crushing another in his slither towards the sound.

Main Street (Continued)

This is Lorbloo Nuurk, reporting LIVE from just outside Gambit's Bar. Nobody can tell how it happened, and nobody knows where anyone went, that fateful day every single person within Gambit's Bar disappeared into what seemed like thin air. Yes, even the staff! Magical beings, robo-types, and humanoids alike just gone. But, to where? Are they still alive?

More questions than answers have arisen from the scene, whether or not a crime has been performed has yet to be determined. The WCPD suspects foul play but have seemingly nobody to blame. Many have speculated that this disappearance will be tacked onto the charges accrued by Zosimos of the Vankoryth Detente, however they haven't been officially named or associated with the incident to any official degree. Others are pointing fingers at the Aschen, but that theory is easily debunked with the remembrance of the treaties. We've reached out to Detente and Aschen officials, neither of which have offered comment on the circumstance other than to claim dissociation.

Inside Gambit's Bar, the discovery of a strange black sparkly void dust has officials concerned. All persons permit access to Gambit's Bar have been advised to not touch the void dust. I repeat, do not touch the void dust. Eyewitness reports claim that prior to the disappearance, a strange red glow had occupied the windows of Gambit's Bar - others claim it was just a local brown out, and that the light was playing tricks on their eyes.

While investigations continue, the Intergalactic News Network will be stationed here to report on whatever- and whoever -is found to be complicit in this mass disappearance. Stay tuned!

Adventurer's Guild HQ
Echo sat down at the bar that was situated at the front of the guild. Bored, she took a sip of the ale that sat in front of her. The Guild was uncharacteristically quiet for this time of year

Iskjerne Bay
Uhtred watched from a safe distance, boredom evident on his face, a face that did not belong to the man he once was. "Oh, Sigurd..." Some lessons had to be learned with blood and tears it seemed. A shame for his people.

Terran National Library and Archives
Slowly pacing through the library, Stockton steps past the rows of shelves. His eyes carefully watched his surroundings, scanning back-and-forth along the cases filled with books and the several upturned tables.

His gut felt like it was burning. He very sincerely wished he had brought a pistol, or at least something he could stab with. I'm never first to the scene. He takes a moment to stare at a neat, head-sized hole burned horizontally through a bookshelf, the edges of the interior still smoldering. I usually cause this kind of s... Nevermind. I need a firearm.
He walks over to one of the books on the ground, quickly crouching down to grab it. He flips to the very end, where the extraneous papers are, and carefully tears it out as quickly as he can. Withdrawing the pen from his shirt, he raises a knee to serve as a surface. Glancing around and stepping behind the poor cover of a shelf, he sketches out a shape, then fills in the details with smaller symbols.

He takes a deep breath, then tears the page in half. In the brief moment that the paper takes to split into rough, jagged halves, there's a space of nothing. He uses this moment, shoving his hand into the rift, withdrawing a handgun. There's a still-smoldering scorch marked into the slide, which he quickly inspects. Should still function.

He ignores the sudden wave of nausea that strikes him a few seconds later, the aftereffects of using raw, broken magic. It always felt like somebody was twisting his stomach into knots, and doing it often enough could cause him to black out.
He avoided that the best he could.

He chambers a round in the pistol, a Wildebeest .44.
Damn. Guess it's time to roll.

Thor's Tavern
Wilhelm Killing felt the fibers of fundamental physics shifting and shuddering, and immediately snapped to attention.

Well I'll be... what an intriguing phenomenon!
he exclaimed, to no one in particular, before getting lost in otherworldly investigations of his own machination.

In the midst of the jubilant crowd, a Schwarzesloch officer discreetly approached the stage, giving it a casual pat to capture Rigel's attention without causing a scene. Rigel turned his head and waved a hand to the crowd before he briskly approached the edge of the stage, reciprocating the officer's salute with his own.

"Report," he muttered, hands casually clasped behind his back.

"Sir, we've spotted unfamiliar faces—appeared to be a scouting party," the officer reported.

Rigel's tone turns to something of dismissive amusement with a light chuckle, "And why's that a problem, exactly?" he questioned.

"Sir?" the officer replied, clearly a bit bewildered wavering slightly in his posture as his hand falters.

"Don't pretend there's cause for worry; guilty of something, are we?" Rigel's tone grew a tad harsher as he lowered himself to the officer's eye level.

"Well, no, sir, we—" the officer started, his voice shaky until Rigel playfully interrupted with a pat on the head.

"Relax. If they swing by again, weeeell, we'll extend a proper welcome—welcomes, handshakes, toss in a few drinks on the house and exchange pleasantries as usual, eh?" Rigel chuckled, pointing a finger playfully. "Ay, ayy? Whether they accept or not, grab a drink yourself, you deserve it. You're dismissed."

"S-sir? Yes, sir!" the officer responded enthusiastically before heading off. Rigel returned to the mic with unbroken confidence in his step, leaning over the mic and holding his arm up to get the crowd's attention.

"Well, this is unexpected. Just got word that we might be graced by some rather interesting guests! Let's give them the finest Noble welcome, shall we?"

Hotel Zafiro Lobby
Haruka cast a wary glance around the surroundings before cautiously trailing behind Volare, her steps hesitant and laced with nervous energy. The prospect of encountering a corpse was not one she felt prepared for, yet the pull to find her brother above prevailed over her unease. As her eyes shifted between the looming unknown and the visibly anxious Volare, a unique sense of responsibility overcame her own fear. Despite the chilling uncertainty, she couldn't shake the conviction that, somehow, she needed to be there for Volare in this disconcerting moment. She also looked over at Jack, then down at Eques and tilted her head.

"I've never before met a feline esper before," she projected the thought directly to Eques, but wasn't quite sure if that'd even work. She was testing on a hunch more than anything. She hasn't even really had much experience outside of her aunt who's teachings are clearly more about feeling it out than any concrete lessons. "Or... maybe I'm mistaken and staring awkwardly at a cat like a crazy person..?"

Deep 17 Station Metatron
███████ ████ - 08██
████ ██-██
"██████ ██ ███████"
███████ Status: ACTIVE

They were undoubtedly all going to die here. There wasn't anything they could do to delay or stop that.
Kicker caught a disruptor bolt to the throat, the heat instantly melting the armored covering and searing the flesh underneath it, giving him a split moment to reach up before going limp. Shield releases his rifle and darts over to check on his co-captain, narrowly ducking under the next volley and behind, only to be met by the arriving CSU from the rear.

As the atmosphere fully exits the docks, Valiant finds his SAW rendered useless, the gas-blowback system rendered inert. Throwing his PK2 down to strike the dock floor, he raises his arms and steps toward the Aschen troops. One of the disruptor rounds strikes him in the thigh, causing him to stumble forward and end up in a half-kneeling position, arms still clenched behind his head.

Shield looks blankly through his faceplate at the returning security agents, holding his officer in his arms. With another few seconds of hesitation, he pulls Kicker's SR-9 from his hip and places it against his comrade's faceplate, sending a high-caliber round through the helmet of the man in a second, then through his own the next. Both of them go slack, their limp forms half-floating in the zero-gravity environment, secured to the 'ground' only by the soles of their magnetic locks.

About eight seconds pass before the bodies of the two team leaders inflate underneath their armor, the explosive charges cracking the interior and causing blood to seep out in a cloud from the holes punched in their helmets.

4,000 Miles Away, closing distance.
Marauder-6, secondary reinforcement team. Message from OVERWATCH reads as follows.

Secure Status: FAILED


The mining vessel quickly decelerates from FTL, coming to a slow halt moments later.
Inside, the team of forty sit quietly after the synthetic voice flashes over comms.
"Does that mean we can go home?"
"I don't know."

Around six minutes later, the mining barge floats in a cloud of debris, ripped into jagged halves.

The Hall of Heroes
Wilhelm Killing stood up, dusted himself off, and set off in a trot towards the tavern.

Kazzei Plains Force Temple
Cordelia hesitated, her gaze shifting uneasily between Jinn and Librarian Yulin. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she directed her attention to Jinn, her earlier composure now replaced with visible nervousness, exacerbated by the mention of OttO.

"OttO... that is— he is not my— you cannot simply make peace with a being who— I... want to one day return to this plane, permanently. I want... we Nix want... but the Unmaker wants to baptize this land with his Untime, his own brand of peace," she stammered, her voice trembling with anxiety. Bowing her head, she began to recite something under her breath, a murmured mantra of sorts. "You misunderstand me! I am not unfeeling, indifferent. I just can't... I can't let how I feel jeopardize everything! There's a greater cause than you realize because, for me I— imbalances will always happen, but if there's nothing to return to, then what is the point?"

With that, she turned and bowed again, then walked to the room prepared for her. However, her motions were more unsteady and heavier than before. Despite her earlier attempts to convey confidence, it was evident that she was struggling with a number of things.

The City
*hears a yell from the park*
Graham interested in where the noise was coming from decided to walk towards the sound of the fight.

1. I got here from walking from some weird place, and 2. I came from some other weird place.

The Hero's Journey
Bruh! I just came from the north, fine south then!

Goldenbridge Ward
Kyren Sullenfall heads toward the tavern, his first stop.

Ruby Flask
Kyren Sullenfall settled in, laughing subtly at the inquiry, feeding into his braggadocio.

Oh, only the biggest of beasts that Gaia has, you know. There's nothing like a GARGANTUA to slay after it's been tyrannizing a poor little farm village!
he chortled.

Kyren slurped into his Arcane Ale, hefting the glass into the air with a deep draw on the glass.


Aslund Midland Owner: Remæus

"You are very bold, to show yourself to me."

"You are very patient and gracious, to not smite me where I stand."

The two Elder Dragons stared at each other. Irral, the Dragon Champion of Light. Light's first born Son, and most powerful Champion of her will. Draco, Lord of Darkness, corrupted and healed by his own magic, powerful well beyond his years. Each wore his armor - Irral's own armor a crisp Alabaster and Gold, pure and radiant, and Draco's dark, brooding armor of Midnight Black and Blood Red. Their weapons were sheathed, but were ready to spring into action at a moments notice.

"You by now have sensed it yourself." Draco started. "She is back."

Irral nodded slowly, his eyes searching for the slightest movement from Draco that would denote an attack. So far he saw none. "I have. Your mother's return is troubling. More so if it worries you, who already killed her so many years ago." he stated.

The landscape around them rumbled with their combined presence, and then silenced. The grassland they'd met in very literally portrayed the differences between them. One one side, where Irral stood, the grass was tall, golden, and the flowers were in full bloom. A deer pranced away in the distance. Where Draco stood, the grass lay dead against the earth. Blackened as if burned, the flowers were wilted, a deer lay dying from corruption.

"What would you have me do? Join you in a crusade against your own mother? Only for you to do what? Stab me in the back at the end of the battle? Corrupt my soul again and once more turn me into a grieving, disease-ridden, disgusting human?" Irral's temper flared, and a breeze shook the grass around him.

Draco was silent for a moment before speaking in answer. "No. I would have you finish her off if I am unable to do so myself. Swoop in at the last moments of my life, purify my own soul before killing her. At least that way I can die in peace, rather than decompose, and exist as a soul once more until I find a suitable host once more, or my body regenerates."

Draco's own cursed abilities not only corrupted everything around him, it corrupted him as well. As a result, he was unable to die through non-holy or purifying means. His body and soul each could be torn asunder, beaten back into nothing, and destroyed in their entirety. He would still survive, and continue to spread his influence until he is cleansed of his own corruption, and allowed to finally die.

The Wolf Queen didn't want her pet to die so easily when she granted him his powers. She did a fantastic job of doing so. Too well. He inevitably killed her, too, and even went on to face The Light herself, his body and soul being separated for a million years before he was powerful enough in his Ethereal body to break the sealing magic around his body, and inhabit his shattered, empty husk of a carcass once more.

Irral considered the Shadow Dragon King's offer, and then nodded. "Very well. I shall inform the All-Mother of your decision. In the mean time, expect to be watched. You will not receive help from the Guardians of Light, nor should you expect any. In such a time that you are near death, I will cleanse you of your corruption, and allow you to pass on. But it will not be peaceful."

"Then we are agreed. Farewell, Champion of Light."

"Farewell, Cursed Shadow King."

Irral vanished in a flash of glorious, beautiful golden light, and Draco melted in upon his own body, a puddle of black sludge forming as his form melted into the landscape. The sludge then sank into the earth, leaving that particular area entirely dead, while the wildlife and rest of the world began to recover immediately.

A deal between two great Elder Dragons was made. But only time would tell if it would be honored.

Wing City
Linus Trucidabunt surprised himself when he grabbed Carmen's hand back.

The Fantasia Galaxy
The Stjorndrekr drifted slowly through outer Space, entering the Fantasia Galaxy after traversing through millions and millions of light-years and light-miles of gas clouds and dark matter at the speed of cosmic sound, with some assistance from Gaian magic. This small but magnificent space-faring dragon ship was one of three twin vessels or sister ships. Whereas the Stjornhestr returned to Bastion IV, and the Stjornkona headed for Dedelion, the legendary Stjorndrekr had left the galaxy completely and the Empyrean Norsemen on board had just set a record for being the crew and passengers of the most distant Gaian Norse vessel in the universe. The reason why the Empyrean Norsemen had traveled so far, along with the Sjoalfar who accompanied them was still a mystery. But it had taken weeks, months, even a few years for the Stjorndrekr to arrive as it drifts quietly through the Fantasia Galaxy, undetectable by radio, satellite, computer, phone, radar, or most forms of communication as the Stjorndrekr had no electricity and gave off very little if any signature, being only 1/3rd the size of most other transport buses, enterprises and shuttle ships. Although the Stjorndrekr had its own on board built-in ecosystem, 13 escape shuttles and an arsenal of weapons and armour capable of engaging in intergalactic warfare with a crew of 500 or more Vikings, it resembled a classic sea-faring Viking longship, with a sci-fi/steampunk twist, being moderate or humble in size but decoratively elaborate in appearance as it descended towards the Talmora System, making no sound whatsoever as it continued its most linear trajectory to one of the furthest points in the local universe. The dragon-prowed longship gave off no light of its own, only reflecting the distant stars with its silver and gold manufacturing as it hovered quietly, sailing through Fantasia.


Kasai Shinrin Owner: shentino

Meteor was a speck in the night sky of the forested planet, and falling.