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Snippet #2343671

located in South Avoryll (The Thornlands), a part of Magelord, one of the many universes on RPG.

South Avoryll (The Thornlands)

A barely tamed land of impenetrable jungles and deadly swamps dominated by an advanced and savage native civilization and dotted by Xlisandic mines, forts and outposts.

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Urdu stepped forward. His wide eyes had yet to remember to blink. "But my Lord... if this is not a dragon what is it."

Alidor traced a hand along one of the thing's shattered wings, "it's a machine... it's alchemy."

Urdu followed the sorcerer as he stepped around the side of the metal construct. The shape and countenance of the creation was that of a dragon, but the longer he looked at it, the more he began to agree with his master that it was effigy only. "But... siah surely the colonists couldn't have built such a thing, a metal beast that flies."

Alidor laughed, "oh no, this is far far beyond their alchemy or our enchantment." The sorcerer fumbled at the edges of what looked like a door for a moment before turning to Urdu, "I hate to impose upon your limited reserves, but could you?"

"Of course, siah." Urdu stepped up to the craft and placed his hand above the door. "... siah, considering you're wearing jewelry you might want to step back a pace or two."

"Well advised," Alidor agreed tapping his piercing. Once the sorcerer stood at a safe distance, Urdu's tatoos flashed. The metal below his hand groaned and warped in response. From the ground a few stray rivets, dislodged by the crash, flew up to attach themselves to his palm. Another flash of his tattoos and the door's lockbolt snapped freeing it to swing out to the marked's waiting grasp. Urdu peered inside the beast and instead of guts saw a narrow cabin littered with the bodies of those who did not survive the crash. "I don't understand, siah, if the Nedics didn't build this and we didn't... who did?"

Alidor ducked into the ship's interior. He turned over one of the bodies, same as the others in state of decay but different in clothing. The sorcerer's eyes looked past the putrid flesh to her strange garb, made of an alien fabric both light and strong with the texture of beeswax. "She built it... or her people did."

Urdu inspected the corpse with one hand shielding his mouth and nose from the smell, "is she a... native?"

"I don't know but I intent to find out."