Introduction
It was about ten years since the conflict. Time had passed, though the wounds inflicted on the land of Magna ran deep.
The fighting had ripped across the lands, taking with it the lives of hundreds of the populace, for the invaders had not been anything natural. Foul beings brought in by a sorcerer hungry for power. They had overrun the lands, proving too much for any of the conventional troops to handle. Even the aid of the magic users proved to not be enough.
Thankfully, the kingdom had retained one remaining trump card for repelling threats to their people. The joined souls. The rain of fire. The fellowship of the dragon riders.
They were a group of folks from humanoid species who had been trained from childhood in order to ride the great beasts, and as they came to reach adulthood they went through a binding ceremony, which forever forged a bond between their soul, and that of their dragon companion. The draconic creatures were rare, and fewer than two dozen riders existed at any one time...though the destruction even a small team could accomplish was staggering.
The call went up, and the dragon riders descended into the battle, many facing their first real encounter with the ugly business of war. It was a brutal, fiery flurry of blades, scales and teeth as the beasts tore swathes through the ranks of the dark creatures.
When the dust settled and the field fell silent, the riders stood battered, but victorious over the slain ranks of the summonings. Cries of celebration went up...but...they proved to be ill-timed. The riders soon realized that one of their number was missing.
They discovered the dragon, Auryn, splayed out on the edge of a lake a distance from their location. A group of the enemy had forced him back, away from his allies. Dozens of spears protruded from between his scale, and a blade had been driven deep into his heart.
Next to him they found Auryn's rider, Elarain, or Elli, staring silently off into the setting sun. No-one knew what to say...or what to do. They had managed to save Magna from a terrible threat...but at a terrible cost.
They held a ceremony where Auryn's remains were consumed in the fire of his kin, a display of the dragons' shared respect for their fallen brother...but Elarain was not there. She had disappeared. The other riders searched, but found no trace of their friend. As time passed they chose simply to remember her too, assuming she had passed along with Auryn.
The years passed, and the riders enjoyed their lives as respected heroes. They had been awarded land and title in exchange for their service, though not all chose to take it, many preferring freedom over authority. They kept in contact, and ensured to gather at least once a year in order to
pay respects to the fallen.
Then, riders began to disappear. They and their dragons would be taken by traveling. Some were discovered, slain in a terrible fashion. Not long after that, strange figures began to be spotted in the wilderness areas...and after that..magical beings also seemed to become targets for this dark force.
All folk of a magical inclination became afraid, especially the remaining ranks of the riders. Something seemed to be wiping them out, one by one.
Things all slid into terrible unison one day when messengers approached them, and offered them a report. It had come from the King's own spymaster, who had been investigating the disappearances, and their ties to a ruin in the far north that had sprung to life in recent months.
Someone was calling on forbidden magic. They were taking the creatures they captured and manipulating their forms with spells and alchemy, turning them into twisted, monstrous minions. Even worse, the spies told of an enormous construct in the main chamber, bound together from metal, wood, and the bones and scales of slain dragons. It was an enormous, partially completed golem formed into the shape of a dragon.
Fastened across its chest was a gold plate, with a word carved upon it.
-'Auryn'-
The words chilled to the bone.
It was Elarain's doing.
Roles
The Riders
The dragon riders are an ancient organization that train a small number of humanoid races each year in the arts of combat, as well as the riding of dragons.
Most are taken from a very young age, and raised in The Summit, an ancient castle complex set up high in the Fellspire Mountains. From here the young riders learn to fight, track, treat field injuries, and the rely on each other. At the age of ten they are first introduced to the young dragons, that are left as eggs or chicks by the dragon community and raised in the natural caverns beneath The Summit. The dragons select the rider, possessing an innate sense of a person whom they feel a connection with.
From there, the dragons and riders train together exhaustively. At the age of sixteen, the riders undergo a bonding ceremony, a very demanding and often dangerous ritual that ties their soul to their dragon steed. From there, they are able to read the thoughts and feel the emotion of their partner.
The Riders come from various species. Humans, elves, orcs, dwarves, and even more exotic beings have been known to be selected. The Riders select based on many factors, and often choose from certain family lines, though this is by no means a rule. There are rarely more than twenty riders alive at any one time, so all know one another. Many are friends, though a fair amount of rivalry takes place.
The Fellowship of the Dragons Riders
Leader: OPEN
Responsible for the selection of young riders, the organization of meetings, and the work as a military commander. They also tend to act as a spokesperson for the organization with the King.
Second in Command: TAKEN
Tends to take a more hands-on role. They run the training program and are responsible for educating the trainees, as well as overseeing the care of the dragons, and the bonding ceremony.
Other Riders: ANY NUMBER
The riders are a fairly close-knit group. They tend to widely comprised of senior and younger riders. The younger riders are generally assigned a mentor from the seniors by the second in command when they are bonded, and they keep an eye on the younger ones, though most of the qualified riders are in their twenties or upwards, with few being trained with the new threat. Most of the younger generation were trained alongside Elarain.
The Threat
Elarain: TAKEN
An insane former dragon rider, Elarain is driven by her desire to return her dead dragon, Auryn, to life. She disappeared for some years, returning with a disturbing knowledge of fleshcrafting...and a vicious grudge against the Riders.
The Mage: TAKEN
An accomplished magic user from the capital, they were taken by Elarain in order to aid in the construction of the flesh golem dragon. They detest their work, but do so out of fear of Elarain and the fleshcrafted beasts she controls.
The Captive Rider: OPEN
A former friend of Elarain's, who was one of the first to disappear. Kept around out of some twisted feelings of spite, they and their dragon have undergone terrible cruelty during their long months imprisonment.
Character Skeleton (Notes come in brackets, you're free to remove them from your entry.)
- Code: Select all
[b]Full name[/b]:
[b]Nicknames/Aliases[/b]:
[b]Species[/b]: (Any humanoid species can become a rider. The most common are humans and elves, though all kinds exist.)
[b]Gender[/b]:
[b]Age[/b]:
[b]Occupation[/b]:
[b]Appearance[/b]: (Image and/or text description. Any sort of image is acceptable, but make sure the person looks suitable for the time period. It breaks immersion if you're always thinking of the hero of the land wearing jeans and converse. xP)
[b]Personality[/b]:
[b]Strengths[/b]:
[b]Weaknesses[/b]:
[b]Equipment[/b]:
[b]Abilities[/b]:
[b]Brief history[/b]:
(For Riders)
[b]Dragon Name[/b]:
[b]Dragon Appearance[/b]:
[b]Dragon Personality[/b]:
[b]Breath[/b]: (Most dragons breathe fire, some however emit extremely cold air, or noxious gases.)
- 13 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 6 authors
Setting
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It was cold. It was always cold within the fortress, a place that was known among the frightened locals of the surrounding villages and trading posts as 'Snowmaw'. It sat upon the crest of a bare, rocky hill, almost eternally battered by the harsh wind that roared in from the ice wastes.
The old ruin was constructed from the jagged dark grey stone of the region, an old defensive post that had gotten extended upon and built out over the years..though had never been developed enough not to seem spartan and oppressive. It had few glass windows, only deep arrow-slits that allowed the cold air through, or thick iron gratings that did little better. Not many of the floors had gained carpeting, or even wooden floors. The few human servants, most captured and held from the area, managed to find furs and thick clothes to keep themselves from succumbing to the cold during their duties...though plenty succumbed to the creatures.
The flesh golems made up much of the staff. While the frightened and cowed humanfolk were charged with cooking and cleaning, the guard duties and laboratory help was performed by them...much on the basis of the mistress's extreme paranoia. She was always suspicious of the servants sabotaging her work, enough that she would trust few with it.
The golems were a hideous, malformed bunch. They were a haphazardly sewn-together mix of humanoids, animals and hastily-constructed joinings. For many it seemed that the tarnished armor they wore was the only thing keeping their bodies together. They were sickly beasts, and being sickly made them vicious. Many would go after human staff on sight, and their creator rarely stepped in to stop them.
Beneath Snowmaw were the caverns, large, natural caves that spread down some way into the mountain. With the renovation of the fortress the caves had been dug into, hollowed out and bricked in places, in preparation of serving their new purpose. It served as a laboratory, and it served as a dungeon.
At the centre, beneath the main hall of the castle, an enormous cathedral cavern opened up. The insides were lit with large torches set into the walls, which cast strange, jagged shadows across the rocks. Wooden workbenches were arranged around the floor of the cavern, along with a whole range of disturbing apparatus. Tables with thick fastenings made to hold things of human size and shape, large cutting tools...and implements that seemed to defy description.
Most noticable tough stood in the middle. It was suspended from the vaulted roof by a myriad of ropes, chains, and sections of hollow piping, like a grotesque spider's web with a monstrous bulk suspended at the core. It was roughly the size and shape of the dragon, though closer inspection revealed it was nothing close. It was made from any number of different things. The great wings differed in size and colour, the legs were patched together from several different parts, and many pieces seemed to have come from animals nowhere even close to draconic. Its ribcage hung open, the contents uncompleted, and its face seemed incomplete, lacking eyes, much of one side consisting of bone and metal struts.
She crouched on the rickety, makeshift scaffolding that surrounded the enormous, partially completed abomination, stood perfectly still, staring into the eyeless sockets of the golem's face. Elarain had been there for perhaps and hour, and not many of the staff dared suggest she moved. The last person to do so had had their jaw fused shut.
The former rider was, quite clearly, a shadow of her former self. She was pallid and emaciated, she coughed frequently, seeming to be suffering from an illness that never seemed to leave her. She ate very rarely, and slept even less. While a large room had been set up in the tower upstairs, it mostly collected dust, remaining unused. It seemed that by then Elarain was powered more by obsession that earthly things. Obsession and dark magic.
Abruptly she stood, ragged cloak swaying around her narrow shoulders at the sudden movement. Like a clockwork toy that had been wound up, she was suddenly spurred into motion, and she scampered down the haphazard assortment of ropes and ladders to the bottom, showing surprising agility for her condition. She dropped to the stone floor and strode over to the large, reinforce door that stood at the other end of the hall. The entrance to the dungeons.
They were expansive, dark, and extremely hard to escape from. The cells were chiseled into the living rock, leaving the walls and floor rough, often jagged. Very little light filtered down from the tiny grates set high into the ceiling, and that which did seemed grey and anaemic.
As Elarain stepped along the shadowy corridor, the twisted guards lifted their hands, paws or talons in clumsy salute, and the figures hidden within the cells drew further away into the gloomy, hoping not to attract her fickle attention.
"Bring me another!" Elarain exclaimed, grinding to a sudden halt and gesturing to the nearest guard, pointing with a taloned finger.
"I need more parts!"
The old ruin was constructed from the jagged dark grey stone of the region, an old defensive post that had gotten extended upon and built out over the years..though had never been developed enough not to seem spartan and oppressive. It had few glass windows, only deep arrow-slits that allowed the cold air through, or thick iron gratings that did little better. Not many of the floors had gained carpeting, or even wooden floors. The few human servants, most captured and held from the area, managed to find furs and thick clothes to keep themselves from succumbing to the cold during their duties...though plenty succumbed to the creatures.
The flesh golems made up much of the staff. While the frightened and cowed humanfolk were charged with cooking and cleaning, the guard duties and laboratory help was performed by them...much on the basis of the mistress's extreme paranoia. She was always suspicious of the servants sabotaging her work, enough that she would trust few with it.
The golems were a hideous, malformed bunch. They were a haphazardly sewn-together mix of humanoids, animals and hastily-constructed joinings. For many it seemed that the tarnished armor they wore was the only thing keeping their bodies together. They were sickly beasts, and being sickly made them vicious. Many would go after human staff on sight, and their creator rarely stepped in to stop them.
Beneath Snowmaw were the caverns, large, natural caves that spread down some way into the mountain. With the renovation of the fortress the caves had been dug into, hollowed out and bricked in places, in preparation of serving their new purpose. It served as a laboratory, and it served as a dungeon.
At the centre, beneath the main hall of the castle, an enormous cathedral cavern opened up. The insides were lit with large torches set into the walls, which cast strange, jagged shadows across the rocks. Wooden workbenches were arranged around the floor of the cavern, along with a whole range of disturbing apparatus. Tables with thick fastenings made to hold things of human size and shape, large cutting tools...and implements that seemed to defy description.
Most noticable tough stood in the middle. It was suspended from the vaulted roof by a myriad of ropes, chains, and sections of hollow piping, like a grotesque spider's web with a monstrous bulk suspended at the core. It was roughly the size and shape of the dragon, though closer inspection revealed it was nothing close. It was made from any number of different things. The great wings differed in size and colour, the legs were patched together from several different parts, and many pieces seemed to have come from animals nowhere even close to draconic. Its ribcage hung open, the contents uncompleted, and its face seemed incomplete, lacking eyes, much of one side consisting of bone and metal struts.
She crouched on the rickety, makeshift scaffolding that surrounded the enormous, partially completed abomination, stood perfectly still, staring into the eyeless sockets of the golem's face. Elarain had been there for perhaps and hour, and not many of the staff dared suggest she moved. The last person to do so had had their jaw fused shut.
The former rider was, quite clearly, a shadow of her former self. She was pallid and emaciated, she coughed frequently, seeming to be suffering from an illness that never seemed to leave her. She ate very rarely, and slept even less. While a large room had been set up in the tower upstairs, it mostly collected dust, remaining unused. It seemed that by then Elarain was powered more by obsession that earthly things. Obsession and dark magic.
Abruptly she stood, ragged cloak swaying around her narrow shoulders at the sudden movement. Like a clockwork toy that had been wound up, she was suddenly spurred into motion, and she scampered down the haphazard assortment of ropes and ladders to the bottom, showing surprising agility for her condition. She dropped to the stone floor and strode over to the large, reinforce door that stood at the other end of the hall. The entrance to the dungeons.
They were expansive, dark, and extremely hard to escape from. The cells were chiseled into the living rock, leaving the walls and floor rough, often jagged. Very little light filtered down from the tiny grates set high into the ceiling, and that which did seemed grey and anaemic.
As Elarain stepped along the shadowy corridor, the twisted guards lifted their hands, paws or talons in clumsy salute, and the figures hidden within the cells drew further away into the gloomy, hoping not to attract her fickle attention.
"Bring me another!" Elarain exclaimed, grinding to a sudden halt and gesturing to the nearest guard, pointing with a taloned finger.
"I need more parts!"
In the gloomy library known only as Solitude, a frail girl clad in white sat pouring over her books. The only light in the room came either in faint, pale streams through the slit-like windows to the outside, or from the occasional torch hanging from the wall. Even with the glass the lonely magus had created and fused into the windows, the cold still seeped in sometimes. Although it shouldn't have affected a Stoneborn, her own condition was... unique. Coughing quietly, she set down her quill pen - another object she had summoned by magic for her use - covering her mouth through force of habit and idly noting the vapor that slipped between her fingers. Was it really that cold? She would have to try out that warming spell she had thought up. The worst possible outcome would just be spontaneous combustion, and, well she'd live, and at least she would be warm then. Since in her spare time she had managed to magically fireproof the books, shelves and, well, most of the room, actually, them becoming damaged by a miscast spell wasn't a concern. Actually, the precious contents of her treasured library had all been placed under so many enchantments and protective seals that she doubted almost any magic could harm them. Since she had an abundance of both time and energy on her hands, she had long since managed to complete the necessary renovations to the library that was now her home. Well, prison was a better way to put it, but it was best not to dwell on such matters.
Remiandre finally stopped coughing, and, after taking a moment to catch her feeble breath once more, she noticed her throat was rather scratchy. Waving her hands in a slightly apathetic manner, she channeled a small portion of her energy onto the small, blank desk in front of her. The grimoire she was writing was going to take some time to complete, so there was no sense waiting until she was done to get a drink. While technically the Elixir of Life channeled into her body by the Stone in her chest meant that she needed not food nor drink, it did not meant she could not feel the pain that lack of those brought.
"Aether and Earth Sigil: Summon Teacup," The magus murmured. In a small flash of light, tiny bits of porcelain appeared on her desk, slowly forming themselves into the desired shape with a quiet crackling noise. Spreading her hands over the now complete cup, she continued.
"Water, Wood, Fire and Aether Sigil: Delicate Fragrance," She chanted. Water formed beneath her hands and slowly flowed downward into the cup, the quiet babbling made as the dish filled the only sound in the lonely archive aside from the crackling of torches and the wind battering the walls of the castle. Once the dish was mostly filled, the water ceased to flow, and the spell continued into its next phase. In an instant, the water was brought to a boil, and tea leaves appeared in a precisely calculated amount. Using her Aether magic to speed the process along without disrupting the natural flavor of the tea, she soon had a perfect beverage simmering next to her. Smiling, she sank back in her comfortably padded chair - another item of her own creation, much more luxurious than how the archive of Solitude had been before her imprisonment - and took up her tea, sipping it with a slight sigh of contentment. Remiandre cast another spell, swiftly summoning a magical blanket to drape itself over her and keep her warm. The heating spell she had created could wait until later for testing. It was time to take a break and enjoy the delicacy she had made. She had spent several lonely months perfecting her magically created tea. Actually, the spell she had invented for the process placed several enchantments upon the tea as it was made, enhancing the flavor, making it more healthy, and so on and so forth. In a way, the teas she brewed in her library home were a sort of medicine, helping her to get by through the various bouts of illness she suffered.
Taking another sip, the magus smiled slightly, closing her deep green eyes and simply relaxing. There was a certain appreciation for the simple things in life that a long period of solitary captivity taught you. Good tea, a comfortable chair, a warm blanket to keep out the chilly air, and a way to alleviate one's boredom without dreaming of the outside world and how much it must have changed... Those were all the things she needed right now.
Remiandre thought idly to the blank sheet of parchment lying on the table before her, just one of many that would soon be bound into a book and placed on the grand shelves of Solitude, the magical library. She was running out of space to house her ever-increasing collection of magical treatises, which meant she would have to create some new bookshelves again. It didn't matter to her that no one would probably ever read her works. It was just something to do. A way to catalog her various discoveries and experiments better than her own mind could. A way to make what she learned permanent, so she would never forget her work, no matter how long she was trapped here. That was enough to satisfy the Eternal Archivist.
The girl smiled, beginning to drift off into a world of tranquil and happy dreams. A nap would be just what she needed to keep her health up. Weak as she was, rest was a very important part of her daily schedule. Besides, the dreams she had usually gave her ideas for new spells she might be able to create. In that regard, her subconscious was just as useful at providing new and intriguing ideas as her waking thoughts were. And so, the immortal girl dozed off alone amongst her books, the dusty, gloomy library as still as a tomb as the magus finally found a place of rest, even if it was only temporary...
Remiandre finally stopped coughing, and, after taking a moment to catch her feeble breath once more, she noticed her throat was rather scratchy. Waving her hands in a slightly apathetic manner, she channeled a small portion of her energy onto the small, blank desk in front of her. The grimoire she was writing was going to take some time to complete, so there was no sense waiting until she was done to get a drink. While technically the Elixir of Life channeled into her body by the Stone in her chest meant that she needed not food nor drink, it did not meant she could not feel the pain that lack of those brought.
"Aether and Earth Sigil: Summon Teacup," The magus murmured. In a small flash of light, tiny bits of porcelain appeared on her desk, slowly forming themselves into the desired shape with a quiet crackling noise. Spreading her hands over the now complete cup, she continued.
"Water, Wood, Fire and Aether Sigil: Delicate Fragrance," She chanted. Water formed beneath her hands and slowly flowed downward into the cup, the quiet babbling made as the dish filled the only sound in the lonely archive aside from the crackling of torches and the wind battering the walls of the castle. Once the dish was mostly filled, the water ceased to flow, and the spell continued into its next phase. In an instant, the water was brought to a boil, and tea leaves appeared in a precisely calculated amount. Using her Aether magic to speed the process along without disrupting the natural flavor of the tea, she soon had a perfect beverage simmering next to her. Smiling, she sank back in her comfortably padded chair - another item of her own creation, much more luxurious than how the archive of Solitude had been before her imprisonment - and took up her tea, sipping it with a slight sigh of contentment. Remiandre cast another spell, swiftly summoning a magical blanket to drape itself over her and keep her warm. The heating spell she had created could wait until later for testing. It was time to take a break and enjoy the delicacy she had made. She had spent several lonely months perfecting her magically created tea. Actually, the spell she had invented for the process placed several enchantments upon the tea as it was made, enhancing the flavor, making it more healthy, and so on and so forth. In a way, the teas she brewed in her library home were a sort of medicine, helping her to get by through the various bouts of illness she suffered.
Taking another sip, the magus smiled slightly, closing her deep green eyes and simply relaxing. There was a certain appreciation for the simple things in life that a long period of solitary captivity taught you. Good tea, a comfortable chair, a warm blanket to keep out the chilly air, and a way to alleviate one's boredom without dreaming of the outside world and how much it must have changed... Those were all the things she needed right now.
Remiandre thought idly to the blank sheet of parchment lying on the table before her, just one of many that would soon be bound into a book and placed on the grand shelves of Solitude, the magical library. She was running out of space to house her ever-increasing collection of magical treatises, which meant she would have to create some new bookshelves again. It didn't matter to her that no one would probably ever read her works. It was just something to do. A way to catalog her various discoveries and experiments better than her own mind could. A way to make what she learned permanent, so she would never forget her work, no matter how long she was trapped here. That was enough to satisfy the Eternal Archivist.
The girl smiled, beginning to drift off into a world of tranquil and happy dreams. A nap would be just what she needed to keep her health up. Weak as she was, rest was a very important part of her daily schedule. Besides, the dreams she had usually gave her ideas for new spells she might be able to create. In that regard, her subconscious was just as useful at providing new and intriguing ideas as her waking thoughts were. And so, the immortal girl dozed off alone amongst her books, the dusty, gloomy library as still as a tomb as the magus finally found a place of rest, even if it was only temporary...
Setting
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The cold hardly reached Kitherine as he slunk on silent feet down the alley-like hallway of the great fortress. He had long since grown accustomed to the frigid aura of Snowman – in the months that he had been there, he had only rarely ventured to the warmth of the lower lands, and so there had been no choice but to adjust. His steaming breath no longer phased him, and swathed in the shadowy clothing of the Blackguard, he no longer shivered. He could walk comfortably between these icy stone walls, unafraid that he was going to lose life or limb to the frost.
That did not mean, of course, that there were not things about this place that bothered him. Of course, those things that made him shudder had less to do with the place and more to do with what worked there. Kitherine had a very good reason for serving his own food, whenever possible. He did not enjoy the thought of things sewn together from other things that had died serving his food…
Of course, he would never have voiced his opinion to his mistress. No, he was not even capable of thinking those opinions when she was near. Without his mistress he would die – her word, her wish, was his one and only law.
You’re pathetic, Kinari’s voice whispered in Kitherine’s skull, but Kitherine ignored him. He’d gotten good at ignoring his twin’s voice, over the last several years. Can’t think for yourself, can’t act for yourself. Can’t even sleep for yourself.
“It’s your fault, Kinari,” he told his twin, speaking aloud. There was no reason to remain silent in a hallway that was empty but for the shuffling constructs of his mistress’s creation. He did not care what those abominations heard.
Don’t try to pin this on me, Kinari started, but Kitherine interrupted him.
“You cast the spell. I didn’t.”
And that was where the conversation ended. He had reached the door beyond which his mistress must be working, and Kinari had lapsed into silence, for he too served Elarain with a distinct lack of independent will. And pointless chatter would surely go against her wishes.
With a low groan the door to the workshop opened and he stepped inside, gazing at the great half-shell of the dragon with a mix of admiration and disgust. The twins would never have chosen to report to this room… but this was where their mistress was, and it was necessary that they report to her immediately upon their return. After all, Kitherine had brought back a fresh crop of… “parts”.
Peering around through the seas of half-dead things and tables full of Elarain’s projects, he searched out his mistress. Running a hand through the silk of his white hair, he started out across the floor towards her. She was not in one of her better moods. Kitherine didn’t think she ever was.
“Mistress,” he whispered, moving near to her and bowing deeply. He did not know whether she required him to bow or not – it did not matter. He was her servant. More than that, in fact. He would show her the proper respect.
_____________________________________________________
Pre-dawn upon the Summit had always been Kessenaye’s favorite time of day – at least, it had as far as he could remember. The elf had suppressed most memories of what had come before the Guardians. Thinking about his family was too painful, so he avoided it as often as he could. Which was not to say that those memories did not crop up anyways, they did, but not nearly as often as they could have.
He shook his head softly, laughing at himself. Still so young, for an elf, and he was already reminiscing. He supposed that was what happened when you lived through wars, no matter how old you were. He leaned back against the rough scales of his dragon’s side, drawing in a deep breath of crisp morning air. The golden light had settled across his face now, warming him. He knew that Kestrel would wake soon…
She shifted softly, groaning and raising her head from her early morning nap. He smiled quietly. There she was…
“Morning, Kestrel,” he whispered, reaching out and scratching her scaly shoulder. She groaned and stretched with the contact, still too tired to realize how un-dignifying that action was. “Ready to start the day?”
“No,” she muttered, laying her head back down. Kess laughed quietly and shook his head. He knew that soon enough, one Rider or another would be up here looking for him. He could let Kestrel sleep until then. With a low sigh he leaned back into her powerful shoulder once more, listened to her cavernous lungs suck in air. Her breathing settled slowly, grew level and quiet. She slept once more, leaving Kess to await the arrival of one of his Dragon Riders to inform him it was time for the day to start.
____________________________________________________
The screech of dragon claws on stone grated against Narcissa’s ears as Ithaca ran up the hallway, bouncing catlike after her laughing son. She enjoyed seeing Vell and Ithaca play so happily, loved to see her son’s face glow beneath his thick black locks… but so early in the morning, she would have preferred that Ithaca simply take Vell for a nice fly around the valley. That, at least, would be quiet. The temptress sighed, putting two fingers against her temple and rubbing at it. Early morning headaches – the greatest curse of night-time revelry. The drink was one of the few elements of life which could be both revered and cursed in the space of a few hours.
“Vell!” she called up the hall, and though her dragon pursued him closely, the boy came to an abrupt halt. Ithaca had to bound to the side to avoid bowling the child over. This made Vell laugh, and he turned to his mother with sparkles in his gray eyes. Those beautiful, beautiful gray eye… just like Elvayne’s… “Go find Kessenaye,” Narcissa suggested. “I’m sure he’ll have training for you to do.”
“Yes, Mother!” Vell laughed, the picture of obedience. He turned on one heel and dashed off up the hall. Narcissa took no offense that Ithaca followed him. Her dragon he may have been, but she would rather he protect Vell than her. She could take care of herself.
She raised one hand to the collar she still wore, decorated in gemstones. She had removed the golden chain. It tended to get tangled up with her spear when she wore it. In her new life, the chain had become impractical, but the collar she would never shed. Giving herself a sharp shake, Narcissa threw her wealth of dark hair over one shoulder and struck out in search of some comrade she could spend her morning with. A fellow Dragon Rider who was, preferably, a little calmer than her teenaged son.
That did not mean, of course, that there were not things about this place that bothered him. Of course, those things that made him shudder had less to do with the place and more to do with what worked there. Kitherine had a very good reason for serving his own food, whenever possible. He did not enjoy the thought of things sewn together from other things that had died serving his food…
Of course, he would never have voiced his opinion to his mistress. No, he was not even capable of thinking those opinions when she was near. Without his mistress he would die – her word, her wish, was his one and only law.
You’re pathetic, Kinari’s voice whispered in Kitherine’s skull, but Kitherine ignored him. He’d gotten good at ignoring his twin’s voice, over the last several years. Can’t think for yourself, can’t act for yourself. Can’t even sleep for yourself.
“It’s your fault, Kinari,” he told his twin, speaking aloud. There was no reason to remain silent in a hallway that was empty but for the shuffling constructs of his mistress’s creation. He did not care what those abominations heard.
Don’t try to pin this on me, Kinari started, but Kitherine interrupted him.
“You cast the spell. I didn’t.”
And that was where the conversation ended. He had reached the door beyond which his mistress must be working, and Kinari had lapsed into silence, for he too served Elarain with a distinct lack of independent will. And pointless chatter would surely go against her wishes.
With a low groan the door to the workshop opened and he stepped inside, gazing at the great half-shell of the dragon with a mix of admiration and disgust. The twins would never have chosen to report to this room… but this was where their mistress was, and it was necessary that they report to her immediately upon their return. After all, Kitherine had brought back a fresh crop of… “parts”.
Peering around through the seas of half-dead things and tables full of Elarain’s projects, he searched out his mistress. Running a hand through the silk of his white hair, he started out across the floor towards her. She was not in one of her better moods. Kitherine didn’t think she ever was.
“Mistress,” he whispered, moving near to her and bowing deeply. He did not know whether she required him to bow or not – it did not matter. He was her servant. More than that, in fact. He would show her the proper respect.
_____________________________________________________
Pre-dawn upon the Summit had always been Kessenaye’s favorite time of day – at least, it had as far as he could remember. The elf had suppressed most memories of what had come before the Guardians. Thinking about his family was too painful, so he avoided it as often as he could. Which was not to say that those memories did not crop up anyways, they did, but not nearly as often as they could have.
He shook his head softly, laughing at himself. Still so young, for an elf, and he was already reminiscing. He supposed that was what happened when you lived through wars, no matter how old you were. He leaned back against the rough scales of his dragon’s side, drawing in a deep breath of crisp morning air. The golden light had settled across his face now, warming him. He knew that Kestrel would wake soon…
She shifted softly, groaning and raising her head from her early morning nap. He smiled quietly. There she was…
“Morning, Kestrel,” he whispered, reaching out and scratching her scaly shoulder. She groaned and stretched with the contact, still too tired to realize how un-dignifying that action was. “Ready to start the day?”
“No,” she muttered, laying her head back down. Kess laughed quietly and shook his head. He knew that soon enough, one Rider or another would be up here looking for him. He could let Kestrel sleep until then. With a low sigh he leaned back into her powerful shoulder once more, listened to her cavernous lungs suck in air. Her breathing settled slowly, grew level and quiet. She slept once more, leaving Kess to await the arrival of one of his Dragon Riders to inform him it was time for the day to start.
____________________________________________________
The screech of dragon claws on stone grated against Narcissa’s ears as Ithaca ran up the hallway, bouncing catlike after her laughing son. She enjoyed seeing Vell and Ithaca play so happily, loved to see her son’s face glow beneath his thick black locks… but so early in the morning, she would have preferred that Ithaca simply take Vell for a nice fly around the valley. That, at least, would be quiet. The temptress sighed, putting two fingers against her temple and rubbing at it. Early morning headaches – the greatest curse of night-time revelry. The drink was one of the few elements of life which could be both revered and cursed in the space of a few hours.
“Vell!” she called up the hall, and though her dragon pursued him closely, the boy came to an abrupt halt. Ithaca had to bound to the side to avoid bowling the child over. This made Vell laugh, and he turned to his mother with sparkles in his gray eyes. Those beautiful, beautiful gray eye… just like Elvayne’s… “Go find Kessenaye,” Narcissa suggested. “I’m sure he’ll have training for you to do.”
“Yes, Mother!” Vell laughed, the picture of obedience. He turned on one heel and dashed off up the hall. Narcissa took no offense that Ithaca followed him. Her dragon he may have been, but she would rather he protect Vell than her. She could take care of herself.
She raised one hand to the collar she still wore, decorated in gemstones. She had removed the golden chain. It tended to get tangled up with her spear when she wore it. In her new life, the chain had become impractical, but the collar she would never shed. Giving herself a sharp shake, Narcissa threw her wealth of dark hair over one shoulder and struck out in search of some comrade she could spend her morning with. A fellow Dragon Rider who was, preferably, a little calmer than her teenaged son.
"One last dive, Jay!" The frigid air bit into Akemi's cheeks and her fingers felt sealed stiff in their curled position, clenched tightly around one of her dragon's spikes. Jay dove in a shallow scooping dive and Akemi bent down slightly, feeling the wind rush by. The sun was coming up again, but even the warm, soft fingers of light did not manage to shine against Jay's thick black scales. Jay pulled out of the dive and skimmed the trees in a gentle arc.
"Alright. One more." His wings folded up tightly against his body, creating a small sort of enclave that covered Akemi's sides. Then, with bared teeth in a fearsome grin, he twisted. They began to twirl in a tight barrel roll towards the ground. Akemi's whoop was lost in the roar of the chilly wind as they plummeted through the air. The ground flew closer and Jay straightened, stopping the roll. His wings snapped outwards, straining against the sudden pressure. Muscles bunched and pulled, sending a great gust of air into the clearing outside of the Summit.
In contrast to the high velocity of earlier, Jay landed on his legs with only a hard thump that shook Akemi all the way to the tip of her head. She carefully slipped off to the ground where Jay's tail was there to keep her from losing balance. Goosebumps seemed permanently etched into her skin and she couldn't feel her fingers. Akemi took a deep breath and concentrated, slowly trickling energy to the surface of her skin. Jay hummed slightly as energy flared up around his partner, warming her up.
Akemi stretched, feeling more loose and relaxed as flames danced across her skin. "Alright. I think I'm fine." She slowly lessened the energy, causing the flames to die down and soon she was back in the cold.
Jay yawned widely, revealing a mouth full of jagged spikes. "Good. Does that mean you'll be going to study or train or something now?" He opened one glaring red eye. Akemi saw the suppressed laughter glittering in them. "I'm pretty sure you still need some practice with archery."
Akemi huffed in exasperation as she pulled off the bow and the empty quiver from her back. "I have been practicing." A sigh. "I just can't seem to get the arrows to hit!" She tapped her partner on his snout when he laughed.
"And you spent most of the time with that bow on your back anyways."
"You distracted me!" Akemi protested. "You're the one going into the dives and things." She put the bow and quiver back on her back. "I'm free in the morning today," she added. "I think I've had enough archery for today though."
Jay chuckled and blew a small trail of cold vapor through the air at his partner. She frowned at him as goosebumps leapt up on her skin again. Jay let his head fall down with a large thump onto his wide claws. "Well," he rumbled. His spiked tail curled in to tap Akemi lightly on her cheek. "I think I might take a nap or find something to eat. I'm hungry." He took his tail away and lifted his head, stretching out his giant body. With a small shake of his head, he straightened and looked down at his partner. She nodded and headed towards the entrance to the Summit with Jay trotting along beside her.
"Alright. One more." His wings folded up tightly against his body, creating a small sort of enclave that covered Akemi's sides. Then, with bared teeth in a fearsome grin, he twisted. They began to twirl in a tight barrel roll towards the ground. Akemi's whoop was lost in the roar of the chilly wind as they plummeted through the air. The ground flew closer and Jay straightened, stopping the roll. His wings snapped outwards, straining against the sudden pressure. Muscles bunched and pulled, sending a great gust of air into the clearing outside of the Summit.
In contrast to the high velocity of earlier, Jay landed on his legs with only a hard thump that shook Akemi all the way to the tip of her head. She carefully slipped off to the ground where Jay's tail was there to keep her from losing balance. Goosebumps seemed permanently etched into her skin and she couldn't feel her fingers. Akemi took a deep breath and concentrated, slowly trickling energy to the surface of her skin. Jay hummed slightly as energy flared up around his partner, warming her up.
Akemi stretched, feeling more loose and relaxed as flames danced across her skin. "Alright. I think I'm fine." She slowly lessened the energy, causing the flames to die down and soon she was back in the cold.
Jay yawned widely, revealing a mouth full of jagged spikes. "Good. Does that mean you'll be going to study or train or something now?" He opened one glaring red eye. Akemi saw the suppressed laughter glittering in them. "I'm pretty sure you still need some practice with archery."
Akemi huffed in exasperation as she pulled off the bow and the empty quiver from her back. "I have been practicing." A sigh. "I just can't seem to get the arrows to hit!" She tapped her partner on his snout when he laughed.
"And you spent most of the time with that bow on your back anyways."
"You distracted me!" Akemi protested. "You're the one going into the dives and things." She put the bow and quiver back on her back. "I'm free in the morning today," she added. "I think I've had enough archery for today though."
Jay chuckled and blew a small trail of cold vapor through the air at his partner. She frowned at him as goosebumps leapt up on her skin again. Jay let his head fall down with a large thump onto his wide claws. "Well," he rumbled. His spiked tail curled in to tap Akemi lightly on her cheek. "I think I might take a nap or find something to eat. I'm hungry." He took his tail away and lifted his head, stretching out his giant body. With a small shake of his head, he straightened and looked down at his partner. She nodded and headed towards the entrance to the Summit with Jay trotting along beside her.
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The old Wizard yawned as he used magic to turn yet another page of his book. He sat on his wooden chair, in his wooden house, in the woods. He enjoyed the smell of the forest. He chose to live away from society, where he would be able to tend to his books in peace. He yawned once again. He slowly reached to pick up a leaf that would serve as a bookmark. Placing it in his books and closing it, he stood up and stretched. Not paying attention to the book, he walked away as the book slowly lifted itself up and flew to a bookshelf, where it fit in an empty space. The Wizard had not had much visit these days. Once and a while a traveler would stop by his home, asking for a place to stay at night. Only a very few of these travelers knew in fact that they had just stepped into the home of the “Breeze of Death.” The very man who had wreaked havoc during the war with a single spell. Walking past his cupboard, he slowly lifted his hand. The door of the cupboard slowly opened as a tea cup flew to his hand. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out some herbs and put them into the cup. Waving his hand over the cup, he attracted the water in the air to his cup and filled it up. Still walking towards his door, he placed a hand under the cup and used more magic to warm it up. Finally stepping outside, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.
He quickly spat it out in disgust “Gah! What is this devilish herb?!” He quickly threw the cup away which turned into earth when it hit the ground. The old wizard took a seat on a bench in front of his home, taking a minute to enjoy the sight of the forest that surrounded his home. He took a deep breath and smiled, letting the fresh smell of trees fill his body. He was expecting a student soon, or some form of task. He had not seen a Dragon Rider in a long time, and was expecting one to stop by and learn how to use magic one day or another. The old man slowly opened his eyes, looking much more serious now. He had been feeling this strange disturbance for a while. It was obviously magic, but of what kind he did not know. One thing he was sure of was that it was not a good one. It felt evil and mad. He sighed as he could not put the hand on what he was feeling...
Feeling it was time to stretch his legs; the man stood and raised his hands in the sky. “Alright....lets see if I still got it” Rubbing his hands together, he brought one back and the pushed it forward as a small flame formed in his palm and was released in the form of a fire ball. The small fire ball flew at a tree which started burning as soon as it came into contact with the flame. “Oh Crap!” The old man quickly snapped his fingers as rain started falling right on the burning tree.
Soon after this...interesting exercise...The old Wizard had burnt a tree. He slowly scratched his head and sighed “Ok...that’s enough exercises for now...” The 55 year old once again took a seat on his bench, waiting for something interesting to come his way. To be honest, the old man was starting to get bored of this waiting. If something did not happen soon, he might have to go and make something happen....whatever that might be
He quickly spat it out in disgust “Gah! What is this devilish herb?!” He quickly threw the cup away which turned into earth when it hit the ground. The old wizard took a seat on a bench in front of his home, taking a minute to enjoy the sight of the forest that surrounded his home. He took a deep breath and smiled, letting the fresh smell of trees fill his body. He was expecting a student soon, or some form of task. He had not seen a Dragon Rider in a long time, and was expecting one to stop by and learn how to use magic one day or another. The old man slowly opened his eyes, looking much more serious now. He had been feeling this strange disturbance for a while. It was obviously magic, but of what kind he did not know. One thing he was sure of was that it was not a good one. It felt evil and mad. He sighed as he could not put the hand on what he was feeling...
Feeling it was time to stretch his legs; the man stood and raised his hands in the sky. “Alright....lets see if I still got it” Rubbing his hands together, he brought one back and the pushed it forward as a small flame formed in his palm and was released in the form of a fire ball. The small fire ball flew at a tree which started burning as soon as it came into contact with the flame. “Oh Crap!” The old man quickly snapped his fingers as rain started falling right on the burning tree.
Soon after this...interesting exercise...The old Wizard had burnt a tree. He slowly scratched his head and sighed “Ok...that’s enough exercises for now...” The 55 year old once again took a seat on his bench, waiting for something interesting to come his way. To be honest, the old man was starting to get bored of this waiting. If something did not happen soon, he might have to go and make something happen....whatever that might be
"It's not good to be flying on a full stomach," Jay grumbled, flipping through the air in a crazy, jerky manner.
"That's your fault," Akemi said, gripping tightly onto a spike as the world flew around them. She glanced back. "Why - and how - did you manage to set up the vinegar to fall on the others' heads?" Most of the riders that had gotten caught in the smelly trap had given up or had been left behind already, but a few of them still remained, still very much angry, and right about to catch up.
Jay dropped suddenly. The few riders that had been about to celebrate the victorious end of the chase overshot them. Even as they started to screech to a halt and turn, Jay already slipped into a tiny opening in the canopy of the forest and landed with a rustle. "We went kind of far this time," he whispered into Akemi's mind.
"Well, we'll have to lay low." She leapt off Jay's back and landed lightly on her feet. "Let's get out of sight first."
They slipped through the trees quietly, listening for any movement above or around. Suddenly, up ahead, Akemi's head cocked and Jay lifted his great reptilian head. "Oh Crap!" There was the sizzle of a fire being put out. The two moved closer until Akemi squinted through the trees and saw what looked to be the back of an old man sitting down on a bench.
"He feels powerful," she agreed silently to Jay's thoughts on the lingering magic in the air.
"Hello?" She called out.
"That's your fault," Akemi said, gripping tightly onto a spike as the world flew around them. She glanced back. "Why - and how - did you manage to set up the vinegar to fall on the others' heads?" Most of the riders that had gotten caught in the smelly trap had given up or had been left behind already, but a few of them still remained, still very much angry, and right about to catch up.
Jay dropped suddenly. The few riders that had been about to celebrate the victorious end of the chase overshot them. Even as they started to screech to a halt and turn, Jay already slipped into a tiny opening in the canopy of the forest and landed with a rustle. "We went kind of far this time," he whispered into Akemi's mind.
"Well, we'll have to lay low." She leapt off Jay's back and landed lightly on her feet. "Let's get out of sight first."
They slipped through the trees quietly, listening for any movement above or around. Suddenly, up ahead, Akemi's head cocked and Jay lifted his great reptilian head. "Oh Crap!" There was the sizzle of a fire being put out. The two moved closer until Akemi squinted through the trees and saw what looked to be the back of an old man sitting down on a bench.
"He feels powerful," she agreed silently to Jay's thoughts on the lingering magic in the air.
"Hello?" She called out.
He finally felt the warm glow of the sun cascade its radiance upon his tender fingers, that lay on pages of his current reading material, through the window, and it was in that moment he realized he had stayed up all night. Again. Most would call that a rather bad habit, and though the young magician wouldn’t argue, it never really disrupted his daily life as he was had a gratuitous amount of free time on his hands to do with what he wished. He slept when he felt like sleeping, ate when he felt eating, released himself when he needed to, and in the mean time he either read or practiced his craft. What was the harm in that?
“You know that’s unhealthy right?” he heard a familiar decidedly feminine voice; that of his partner Nahkriin.
He quickly pretended, “Ah, you just got up too I see, and now we’re both ready to start the day having rested and-“
“Don’t play dumb, you’re horrible at it,” the silver dragon chastised, “Next time I’ll whack you with my tail upside your head if I catch you ‘reading just one more chapter’ in the middle of the night. You humans aren’t nocturnal the last time I checked.”
Gaius rubbed his head full of crimson hair in a pain memory response, Nahkriin was usually a patient dragon, but always made good on her threats as he so clearly remembers. At the moment Gaius also felt a reverberation emanating from his empty bowels. The left part of his lip tugged upward as did his eyebrow giving him an amused look, having found a good excuse. “Well, I thank you for your input and we will continue this civil discussion soon. For now I will get breakfast if you don’t mind, most important meal of the day you know? ” he remarked in a whimsical tone. He then promptly took the book along with his leave.
His partner gave a narrow gaze at him and said, “We’re not finished here just so you know, I’ll get you into shape yet boy.” Despite that statement however she let him go, it wasn’t as if he would comeback, especially with him learning draconic from her to wetten his appetite for learning.
The young magician found himself engrossed in the pages again undeterred from the recent encounter, just as the night never deterred him from finishing whatever it he started. The problem with this line of thinking is that Gaius would disconnect from the world and would only be barely aware of his surroundings, which could be bothersome. Particularly when you aren’t watching where you’re going.
He found himself gently colliding with something, and instinctively snapped his head to survey what it was. It definitely wasn’t an “it” but a familiar face, the raven-haired young mother he’d come to know as Narcissa. When he fist met her he was rather surprised that someone who was only a year older than he had a son already so grown up, but he quickly surmised the probable scenarios for that to occur, and felt that there was no need to pry about that sort of information. He simply accepted it and never even acted as if it had any bearing on anything.
He was quite fond of her son Vell, such an enthusiastic kid, always playing and wanting to experience everything in that familiar innocence most children have. Too damned obedient though, Gaius never found that to be natural especially at his age. She’d have to be doing something to keep him in line, boys like that often go looking for trouble just for kicks, not that he complained of course.
Right then however Gaius felt a small flare of blood rush to his face for initiating the ungraceful encounter, “Oh, um, sorry about that I was…yeah. Well, good morning I guess.” He near laughed at himself.
“You know that’s unhealthy right?” he heard a familiar decidedly feminine voice; that of his partner Nahkriin.
He quickly pretended, “Ah, you just got up too I see, and now we’re both ready to start the day having rested and-“
“Don’t play dumb, you’re horrible at it,” the silver dragon chastised, “Next time I’ll whack you with my tail upside your head if I catch you ‘reading just one more chapter’ in the middle of the night. You humans aren’t nocturnal the last time I checked.”
Gaius rubbed his head full of crimson hair in a pain memory response, Nahkriin was usually a patient dragon, but always made good on her threats as he so clearly remembers. At the moment Gaius also felt a reverberation emanating from his empty bowels. The left part of his lip tugged upward as did his eyebrow giving him an amused look, having found a good excuse. “Well, I thank you for your input and we will continue this civil discussion soon. For now I will get breakfast if you don’t mind, most important meal of the day you know? ” he remarked in a whimsical tone. He then promptly took the book along with his leave.
His partner gave a narrow gaze at him and said, “We’re not finished here just so you know, I’ll get you into shape yet boy.” Despite that statement however she let him go, it wasn’t as if he would comeback, especially with him learning draconic from her to wetten his appetite for learning.
The young magician found himself engrossed in the pages again undeterred from the recent encounter, just as the night never deterred him from finishing whatever it he started. The problem with this line of thinking is that Gaius would disconnect from the world and would only be barely aware of his surroundings, which could be bothersome. Particularly when you aren’t watching where you’re going.
He found himself gently colliding with something, and instinctively snapped his head to survey what it was. It definitely wasn’t an “it” but a familiar face, the raven-haired young mother he’d come to know as Narcissa. When he fist met her he was rather surprised that someone who was only a year older than he had a son already so grown up, but he quickly surmised the probable scenarios for that to occur, and felt that there was no need to pry about that sort of information. He simply accepted it and never even acted as if it had any bearing on anything.
He was quite fond of her son Vell, such an enthusiastic kid, always playing and wanting to experience everything in that familiar innocence most children have. Too damned obedient though, Gaius never found that to be natural especially at his age. She’d have to be doing something to keep him in line, boys like that often go looking for trouble just for kicks, not that he complained of course.
Right then however Gaius felt a small flare of blood rush to his face for initiating the ungraceful encounter, “Oh, um, sorry about that I was…yeah. Well, good morning I guess.” He near laughed at himself.
Post Theme Song: Uninstall
Remiandre opened her eyes, awakening in a coughing fit. Covering her mouth with one hand, she clutched her chest with the other, doubling over with the agony of illness that wracked her body. It seemed the curse was acting up again, if the blood now staining her white palm was any indication. Yet again, she had died in her sleep. Of course, it was never that easy. Her lungs stitched themselves back together bit by bit, and the blood lost was replaced. The Elixir of Life flowed into her, and she lived once more.
Slowly, she rose back to a more comfortable seated position with a quiet groan. Her little nap had been nice while it lasted, but if she was going to wake up dying again, she didn't think she'd care for going back to sleep. Her heart had almost stopped from the surprise of it all, not to mention the pain.
She smiled wryly, glancing down at her hand. A quick void spell removed the blood before it could coagulate, so it wouldn't be a problem. It was quite ironic she was thinking so much about her health at her young age. Her current mindset and attitude would have been more suited to an old woman on death's door than to a young and powerful wizard. But a lot had happened in the past few years, and she had brushed so frequently with death in that time that sitting down to tea with him and playing a good game of chess was by now an amusing pastime. It seemed she had won their game, since she had woken up once again. It had been a close thing, however, as evidenced by the last echoes of the pain lingering in her feeble body.
With some difficulty, she pushed herself to her feet, her occasional cough scattering the dust from the tables of the gloomy library and sending them in their little spirals, the tiny particles falling like so many snowflakes. The girl in the white dress hobbled a short way from her writing desk, her movements so devoid of life and energy that she moved through the falling dust like a ghost, barely disturbing a single speck of it.
"Aether and Wood-... Sigil," The magician wheezed, covering her mouth as yet another coughing fit racked her lithe form. "Levitation," She finished, her slipper-clad feet rising off of the ground as she hovered into the air. She was light as a feather due to illnesses to begin with, so levitation wasn't exactly difficult.
Once her coughing fit had subsided and she could trust in her balance, she hovered up to one of the towering bookshelves, glancing about. Each shelf was packed to the bursting point with old tomes that would never be checked out, and dust coated the entire library despite her greatest efforts to keep it from gathering. The emerald eyes of the magus passed swiftly across this shelf as she bobbed almost imperceptibly up and down, suspended high above the library below. Were her concentration broken, she would fall to the hard stone floor and doubtless break to pieces, like an egg thrown against the ground. Fortunately, her concentration was nigh perfect, so that was hardly a worry.
She found what she was looking for. Her fragile arm, like that of a doll, reached out and gently plucked forth a magic book almost the size of her whole torso. She held it delicately, like a mother holding a beloved child. In a way, these books were a great deal like children to her. Most of the library's contents had been penned with her own weak hand.
The volume in question, Locke's Grimoire for the Journeyman Wizard: A Spell for your Every Need, was one of the works she had expanded upon to develop her own mundane magics. Although the author, Dilgheer Locke, based his own spells off of a different magical system, she had been able to adapt them to her own Seven Elements magical art fairly easily. Using this volume as a cross-reference, she intended to quickly and efficiently list off her own adaptions of the spells contained within, citing back to Locke as she worked.
Hovering to the ground, she once more seated herself in her plush chair. The light from outside was growing dimmer as yet another blizzard moved over the castle, leaving the library bathed solely in the dying light of the few torches. In the midst of the falling gloom of the library of Solitude, a lonely girl sat over her book, beginning her work. She didn't know whether it was night or day in the outside world, but that no longer mattered. The only thing that mattered to her was her book. To Remiandre, there was nothing but the tome before her, and her hand moving quickly across the parchment before her, stopping only to dip her pen in the inkwell before she continued writing.
That was all that existed in the locked-in girl's world.
Remiandre opened her eyes, awakening in a coughing fit. Covering her mouth with one hand, she clutched her chest with the other, doubling over with the agony of illness that wracked her body. It seemed the curse was acting up again, if the blood now staining her white palm was any indication. Yet again, she had died in her sleep. Of course, it was never that easy. Her lungs stitched themselves back together bit by bit, and the blood lost was replaced. The Elixir of Life flowed into her, and she lived once more.
Slowly, she rose back to a more comfortable seated position with a quiet groan. Her little nap had been nice while it lasted, but if she was going to wake up dying again, she didn't think she'd care for going back to sleep. Her heart had almost stopped from the surprise of it all, not to mention the pain.
She smiled wryly, glancing down at her hand. A quick void spell removed the blood before it could coagulate, so it wouldn't be a problem. It was quite ironic she was thinking so much about her health at her young age. Her current mindset and attitude would have been more suited to an old woman on death's door than to a young and powerful wizard. But a lot had happened in the past few years, and she had brushed so frequently with death in that time that sitting down to tea with him and playing a good game of chess was by now an amusing pastime. It seemed she had won their game, since she had woken up once again. It had been a close thing, however, as evidenced by the last echoes of the pain lingering in her feeble body.
With some difficulty, she pushed herself to her feet, her occasional cough scattering the dust from the tables of the gloomy library and sending them in their little spirals, the tiny particles falling like so many snowflakes. The girl in the white dress hobbled a short way from her writing desk, her movements so devoid of life and energy that she moved through the falling dust like a ghost, barely disturbing a single speck of it.
"Aether and Wood-... Sigil," The magician wheezed, covering her mouth as yet another coughing fit racked her lithe form. "Levitation," She finished, her slipper-clad feet rising off of the ground as she hovered into the air. She was light as a feather due to illnesses to begin with, so levitation wasn't exactly difficult.
Once her coughing fit had subsided and she could trust in her balance, she hovered up to one of the towering bookshelves, glancing about. Each shelf was packed to the bursting point with old tomes that would never be checked out, and dust coated the entire library despite her greatest efforts to keep it from gathering. The emerald eyes of the magus passed swiftly across this shelf as she bobbed almost imperceptibly up and down, suspended high above the library below. Were her concentration broken, she would fall to the hard stone floor and doubtless break to pieces, like an egg thrown against the ground. Fortunately, her concentration was nigh perfect, so that was hardly a worry.
She found what she was looking for. Her fragile arm, like that of a doll, reached out and gently plucked forth a magic book almost the size of her whole torso. She held it delicately, like a mother holding a beloved child. In a way, these books were a great deal like children to her. Most of the library's contents had been penned with her own weak hand.
The volume in question, Locke's Grimoire for the Journeyman Wizard: A Spell for your Every Need, was one of the works she had expanded upon to develop her own mundane magics. Although the author, Dilgheer Locke, based his own spells off of a different magical system, she had been able to adapt them to her own Seven Elements magical art fairly easily. Using this volume as a cross-reference, she intended to quickly and efficiently list off her own adaptions of the spells contained within, citing back to Locke as she worked.
Hovering to the ground, she once more seated herself in her plush chair. The light from outside was growing dimmer as yet another blizzard moved over the castle, leaving the library bathed solely in the dying light of the few torches. In the midst of the falling gloom of the library of Solitude, a lonely girl sat over her book, beginning her work. She didn't know whether it was night or day in the outside world, but that no longer mattered. The only thing that mattered to her was her book. To Remiandre, there was nothing but the tome before her, and her hand moving quickly across the parchment before her, stopping only to dip her pen in the inkwell before she continued writing.
That was all that existed in the locked-in girl's world.
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As the old man sat down, he had a memory flash.
There was a slight breeze that passed through the battle field. One man stood before 300. Every single one of those 300 men were armed to the teeth, ready to end the life of that one man that stood before there and their prize. Whatever this prize might be, they would take it and nothing would stand in their way...especially one man. They knew this man was a wizard. He stood in his red robe. Over which he wore a black armor, decorated with the crest of the Wizards. He was obviously an elite Wizard....but what could one Wizard do against 300 armed men. The following is what. One of the enemy soldiers took a step forward from the front line. Raising his sword in the air, he gave out a death cry and launched forward, followed by his 299 allies. In their grey armor, they ran down the kill like an army of wolves waiting to gang up on their prey. But their prey was no simple sheep or lamb. They were facing the very essence of magic. The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Already his spell had taken effect. The small breeze slowly started blowing harder. A simple spell...that would cause great damage.
Without even moving the winds pushed harder. The dirt and sand they stood on flew forward. Blinded by dirt and sand in their ways, the front rows were forced to stop running, while others tumbled. Greatly slowed down by this simple magic trick, the Magician worked his spell. Bringing both hands back, he took a deep breath and slung his arms forward, letting out his breath at the same time. Fusing his magic with the air around him, the winds blew even harder than before in the direction on their foes. With magic fused with it, the air became razor sharp, cutting through the soldiers as they were butter. To add to this destructive magic, his breath came out in a flame. Once it met with the magic winds, the flames grew into a huge fire storm. A magic fire, which burnt quicker than normal, fused with razor sharp winds...destroyed the 300 men that had once stood before him. As the magician fell to his knees, exhausted, he slowly fell into a deep sleep hoping someone would find him and bring him back to HQ.
"Hello?" A feminine voice called out. Quickly snapping out of his dream, the old magician stood up and looked around. Seeing a girl walk out of the woods, he smiled and walked to meet her. Immediately he could tell this girl was a Dragon Rider. For two reasons: Persundo, she had a type of aura that seemed to link with another creature and Secundo, a giant dragon stood behind her. Standing in front of her, he slowly bowed. “Welcome to my humble home, Dragon Rider. Zaraian D’jorn Voraius at you service”
“What brings you to these parts of the woods?” Rising as he said this, he wondered if this Rider knew who he was. She seemed old enough to be an experience rider. One of her status should know who he was. But alas, he did not care much, as he was more curious to know why she was here.
There was a slight breeze that passed through the battle field. One man stood before 300. Every single one of those 300 men were armed to the teeth, ready to end the life of that one man that stood before there and their prize. Whatever this prize might be, they would take it and nothing would stand in their way...especially one man. They knew this man was a wizard. He stood in his red robe. Over which he wore a black armor, decorated with the crest of the Wizards. He was obviously an elite Wizard....but what could one Wizard do against 300 armed men. The following is what. One of the enemy soldiers took a step forward from the front line. Raising his sword in the air, he gave out a death cry and launched forward, followed by his 299 allies. In their grey armor, they ran down the kill like an army of wolves waiting to gang up on their prey. But their prey was no simple sheep or lamb. They were facing the very essence of magic. The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Already his spell had taken effect. The small breeze slowly started blowing harder. A simple spell...that would cause great damage.
Without even moving the winds pushed harder. The dirt and sand they stood on flew forward. Blinded by dirt and sand in their ways, the front rows were forced to stop running, while others tumbled. Greatly slowed down by this simple magic trick, the Magician worked his spell. Bringing both hands back, he took a deep breath and slung his arms forward, letting out his breath at the same time. Fusing his magic with the air around him, the winds blew even harder than before in the direction on their foes. With magic fused with it, the air became razor sharp, cutting through the soldiers as they were butter. To add to this destructive magic, his breath came out in a flame. Once it met with the magic winds, the flames grew into a huge fire storm. A magic fire, which burnt quicker than normal, fused with razor sharp winds...destroyed the 300 men that had once stood before him. As the magician fell to his knees, exhausted, he slowly fell into a deep sleep hoping someone would find him and bring him back to HQ.
"Hello?" A feminine voice called out. Quickly snapping out of his dream, the old magician stood up and looked around. Seeing a girl walk out of the woods, he smiled and walked to meet her. Immediately he could tell this girl was a Dragon Rider. For two reasons: Persundo, she had a type of aura that seemed to link with another creature and Secundo, a giant dragon stood behind her. Standing in front of her, he slowly bowed. “Welcome to my humble home, Dragon Rider. Zaraian D’jorn Voraius at you service”
“What brings you to these parts of the woods?” Rising as he said this, he wondered if this Rider knew who he was. She seemed old enough to be an experience rider. One of her status should know who he was. But alas, he did not care much, as he was more curious to know why she was here.
Zaraian D'jorn Voraius... The Breeze of Death! Akemi raised an eyebrow. She and Jay had been in a separate front of the war but they had still heard the stories of the magician who's feat of magic had managed to kill - the rumors say - 500. Even counting exaggeration, Akemi didn't doubt that the man could handle himself and if he had managed the feat, Akemi found it surprising that he wasn't a dragon rider and was even a human.
Jay bent down to their eye level curled his neck around her and huffed a breath of frigid air at the old man. "Old mage," he rumbled cheerfully. "We just happened to arrive right here." Akemi turned her light green eyes to stare at Jay who grinned lazily at the both of them.
"He means," Akemi added with a smile, "that we are hiding from some seriously annoyed friends of ours." Jay lifted his head, making sure as to not go too high and expose himself to the others, and shuffled his wings into a more comfortable position. The dappled shadows provided by the canopy covered Jay's dark scales in random gleaming intervals. One bright spot fell over his head, causing his red eyes to gleam and giving him a sinister aura. Then, Jay lowered his head slightly to look down at them and the light moved away, lessening the savage appearance but not removing it entirely.
Akemi was looking at the mage, thinking. "May I ask why you are here?"
Jay bent down to their eye level curled his neck around her and huffed a breath of frigid air at the old man. "Old mage," he rumbled cheerfully. "We just happened to arrive right here." Akemi turned her light green eyes to stare at Jay who grinned lazily at the both of them.
"He means," Akemi added with a smile, "that we are hiding from some seriously annoyed friends of ours." Jay lifted his head, making sure as to not go too high and expose himself to the others, and shuffled his wings into a more comfortable position. The dappled shadows provided by the canopy covered Jay's dark scales in random gleaming intervals. One bright spot fell over his head, causing his red eyes to gleam and giving him a sinister aura. Then, Jay lowered his head slightly to look down at them and the light moved away, lessening the savage appearance but not removing it entirely.
Akemi was looking at the mage, thinking. "May I ask why you are here?"
Setting
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Elarain was, by then, stood in a low-ceilinged chamber fairly deep into the dungeons, facing the gaggle of twisted creatures that served as guards. Two loped into a nearby cell and emerged dragging out a prisoner, a woman who stared, wide-eyed at the fallen rider as she was forced to her knees in front of her, resembling a startled deer.
The lady of the fortress glanced from the terrified woman, to one of the soldier gripping her, before delivering a swift back-handed across the creature's squashed, dog-like face. The action loosed a few teeth and sent them skittering across the damp flagstones.
"I do not need people!" she snapped.
"I need dragons! We cannot have exhausted them yet!"
She turned, catching sight of Kitherine, a rare smile of approval crossing her features.
"Ah, so you have chosen to show yourself...it appears..Kitherine...that incompetence awaits me at every turn...my guards seem to think that we have run out of dragons...but we cannot have used them all...not yet..."
She stepped over towards him, leaving the guard clasping its bleeding mouth with a misshapen hand.
"Do you have any more for me? You have not disappointed me yet."
-----------
The dragon's head broke the surface of the lake, sending a jet of moisture from his nostrils and opening his mouth in order to draw in a deep breath of mountain air. Having filled its lungs, the head plunged back below the water, whole body following in graceful arc of wings and scales.
Sorin sat on the edge of the lake, on pebble beach, attempting to skip stones across the water. It had never been a skill of his, and his attempts had afforded one skip at best, most sinking with a pitiful 'glug' sound. It seemed to be no end of amusement for Adain, who would every so often peek out of the water in order to emit a warbling laugh at his lack of skill.
The stop by the lake was a welcome break for both of them, and it was something Adain needed more than he did. They had flown such a distance over the last few days. The message had reached them far in the great forests to the west, carried by a dove that Adain had, unfortunately been snacking on when he'd realized that it had come with a letter. Upon hearing the news, the two had made their way back, towards The Summit as fast as they could manage. The home of the riders lay within sight, on the nearby ridge, but the two had decided to stop short of their destination, so as not to arrive dusty and exhausted.
Little had been said between them about the matter, though it worried them greatly. They hadn't spoken as they knew what the ultimate consequences might be....destroying another rider. It wasn't something they wanted to think about too much.
The lady of the fortress glanced from the terrified woman, to one of the soldier gripping her, before delivering a swift back-handed across the creature's squashed, dog-like face. The action loosed a few teeth and sent them skittering across the damp flagstones.
"I do not need people!" she snapped.
"I need dragons! We cannot have exhausted them yet!"
She turned, catching sight of Kitherine, a rare smile of approval crossing her features.
"Ah, so you have chosen to show yourself...it appears..Kitherine...that incompetence awaits me at every turn...my guards seem to think that we have run out of dragons...but we cannot have used them all...not yet..."
She stepped over towards him, leaving the guard clasping its bleeding mouth with a misshapen hand.
"Do you have any more for me? You have not disappointed me yet."
-----------
The dragon's head broke the surface of the lake, sending a jet of moisture from his nostrils and opening his mouth in order to draw in a deep breath of mountain air. Having filled its lungs, the head plunged back below the water, whole body following in graceful arc of wings and scales.
Sorin sat on the edge of the lake, on pebble beach, attempting to skip stones across the water. It had never been a skill of his, and his attempts had afforded one skip at best, most sinking with a pitiful 'glug' sound. It seemed to be no end of amusement for Adain, who would every so often peek out of the water in order to emit a warbling laugh at his lack of skill.
The stop by the lake was a welcome break for both of them, and it was something Adain needed more than he did. They had flown such a distance over the last few days. The message had reached them far in the great forests to the west, carried by a dove that Adain had, unfortunately been snacking on when he'd realized that it had come with a letter. Upon hearing the news, the two had made their way back, towards The Summit as fast as they could manage. The home of the riders lay within sight, on the nearby ridge, but the two had decided to stop short of their destination, so as not to arrive dusty and exhausted.
Little had been said between them about the matter, though it worried them greatly. They hadn't spoken as they knew what the ultimate consequences might be....destroying another rider. It wasn't something they wanted to think about too much.
Setting
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Narcissa, absorbed in her own thoughts, did not see Gaius until it was too late. They bumped softly into one another, and she rocked back a step, not wanting to knock the poor scholar off of his feet. Absorbed in his books again. Narcissa could admire the quality, but had never been able to get into reading much herself. In her old village literacy was never very important - she'd learned to dance before she could write, and that was still the talent she chose above most others. Nevertheless, she admired his concentration.
"Good morning," she murmured, smiling at him and throwing her lustrous black hair over one shoulder. "How have you been, Gaius?"
__________________________________________
Kitherine remained bowed, calm and poised. He did not fear his Mistress. Not because Elarain was not dangerous - she was, possibly more than any creature alive - but Kitherine was useful to her. Blind obedience, the inability to survive without being commanded by his master to do so, was pathetic... but it had kept him alive. He and Kinari both survived on the command of Elarain. And so he did not fear her. Because he knew that she had use for him, and she knew that he could never betray her. Even if she struck him, even if she bled him to within an inch of death, no matter what Kinari said in the back of his mind, Kitherine would remain forever her slave.
"I fear we may have used them all, Mistress, though I have only returned. I can not be certain," he answered in a quiet voice, so quiet it did not echo through the cold, dank hallways. He did not stir in the slightest, even when a length of his soft white hair fell before his eyes. "You may need more before you can complete your work."
__________________________________________
Kess sighed and shifted restlessly against Kethrellan's scaly side. He had come up here the night before, for the most part, to escape the chaos of his duties as the second-in-command. He hated having so much to worry about. It kept him up at night, if he did not lie beside his dragon. He loved to teach, loved to lead the Dragon Riders. He only wished that there were not so many terrible things going on in his world to distract him.
Twisting a strand of his own dark hair around his finger, he glanced over at his blue dragon's slumbering face. He hated to wake her, especially since he might get singed doing it, but...
"Kestrel," he murmured, "find out if any of the others are in the area."
She opened one hawk-like yellow eye and glared at him, before closing it once more. Kessenaye sighed irritably.
"Kethrellan!" he snapped. The dragon opened her eyes again and fixed him in her stare. He almost never called her by her full name. "Call them."
The dragon gave a low grumble, but she too was bound by duty, as dragon of the second-in-command. She had to make sure that the dragons and their riders were safe. That included keeping tabs on which dragons were in the area. Raising her head from her claws, she sucked in one great breath of air. Kess barely had time to cover his ears before she unleashed a bellowing shriek which would be heard for miles. Roll call.
"Good morning," she murmured, smiling at him and throwing her lustrous black hair over one shoulder. "How have you been, Gaius?"
__________________________________________
Kitherine remained bowed, calm and poised. He did not fear his Mistress. Not because Elarain was not dangerous - she was, possibly more than any creature alive - but Kitherine was useful to her. Blind obedience, the inability to survive without being commanded by his master to do so, was pathetic... but it had kept him alive. He and Kinari both survived on the command of Elarain. And so he did not fear her. Because he knew that she had use for him, and she knew that he could never betray her. Even if she struck him, even if she bled him to within an inch of death, no matter what Kinari said in the back of his mind, Kitherine would remain forever her slave.
"I fear we may have used them all, Mistress, though I have only returned. I can not be certain," he answered in a quiet voice, so quiet it did not echo through the cold, dank hallways. He did not stir in the slightest, even when a length of his soft white hair fell before his eyes. "You may need more before you can complete your work."
__________________________________________
Kess sighed and shifted restlessly against Kethrellan's scaly side. He had come up here the night before, for the most part, to escape the chaos of his duties as the second-in-command. He hated having so much to worry about. It kept him up at night, if he did not lie beside his dragon. He loved to teach, loved to lead the Dragon Riders. He only wished that there were not so many terrible things going on in his world to distract him.
Twisting a strand of his own dark hair around his finger, he glanced over at his blue dragon's slumbering face. He hated to wake her, especially since he might get singed doing it, but...
"Kestrel," he murmured, "find out if any of the others are in the area."
She opened one hawk-like yellow eye and glared at him, before closing it once more. Kessenaye sighed irritably.
"Kethrellan!" he snapped. The dragon opened her eyes again and fixed him in her stare. He almost never called her by her full name. "Call them."
The dragon gave a low grumble, but she too was bound by duty, as dragon of the second-in-command. She had to make sure that the dragons and their riders were safe. That included keeping tabs on which dragons were in the area. Raising her head from her claws, she sucked in one great breath of air. Kess barely had time to cover his ears before she unleashed a bellowing shriek which would be heard for miles. Roll call.
Jay's head perked up suddenly. A faint shriek barely making its way into his ears. "It sounds like Kestrel," he said into Akemi's mind. Akemi nodded in silent agreement. She herself had not heard the shrieking cry, but had felt it through Jay.
Akemi put a hand on Jay's side, feeling his cavernous body expand and contract with each powerful breath he took. "I guess we'll have to answer."
Jay huffed and shook his head. "You mean I will have to answer." He drew himself up to his full height, entering the canopy of leaves with his head. His serpentine neck twisted, and several leaves and twigs broke, falling down around them. The dragon took a deep breath.
"You'd better close your ears," Akemi warned Zaraian. Her own hands clamped around her ears and pressed them shut. Jay opened his mouth, and let loose an echoing bellow. The sound shook the leaves, creating an almost visible shimmering through the trees. The nearby birds, shaken from their roosts, flew away in panic from the epicenter. The roar continued, blasting the forest with sound. Then Jay stopped, creating a vacuum of silence that was almost unbearable after the previous sound. Akemi lowered her hands sent a mental grin of approval at Jay.
The call had been answered. They had heard and replied.
Akemi put a hand on Jay's side, feeling his cavernous body expand and contract with each powerful breath he took. "I guess we'll have to answer."
Jay huffed and shook his head. "You mean I will have to answer." He drew himself up to his full height, entering the canopy of leaves with his head. His serpentine neck twisted, and several leaves and twigs broke, falling down around them. The dragon took a deep breath.
"You'd better close your ears," Akemi warned Zaraian. Her own hands clamped around her ears and pressed them shut. Jay opened his mouth, and let loose an echoing bellow. The sound shook the leaves, creating an almost visible shimmering through the trees. The nearby birds, shaken from their roosts, flew away in panic from the epicenter. The roar continued, blasting the forest with sound. Then Jay stopped, creating a vacuum of silence that was almost unbearable after the previous sound. Akemi lowered her hands sent a mental grin of approval at Jay.
The call had been answered. They had heard and replied.
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View All » Add Character » 11 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Zaraian Djorn Voraius
"Words are often sharper than swords"
Gaius Darastrix
"Huh, what were you saying? Sorry I was thinking about something."
Akemi Assenti
"But what if...?"
Remiandre Conscientia Lehsade
"Oh? Someone's finally come to my library. I must request that you keep your hands off of my books. They're very fragile."
Narcissa de Leone
"Mothers are some of the most dangerous creatures alive."
Kitherine Damacus
"Dual mentality serves a dual purpose."
Kessenaye
"I am the remnant, and I must be all that my family once was."
Trending
Zaraian Djorn Voraius
"Words are often sharper than swords"
Kitherine Damacus
"Dual mentality serves a dual purpose."
Remiandre Conscientia Lehsade
"Oh? Someone's finally come to my library. I must request that you keep your hands off of my books. They're very fragile."
Akemi Assenti
"But what if...?"
Narcissa de Leone
"Mothers are some of the most dangerous creatures alive."
Kessenaye
"I am the remnant, and I must be all that my family once was."
Gaius Darastrix
"Huh, what were you saying? Sorry I was thinking about something."
Most Followed
Narcissa de Leone
"Mothers are some of the most dangerous creatures alive."
Zaraian Djorn Voraius
"Words are often sharper than swords"
Kitherine Damacus
"Dual mentality serves a dual purpose."
Gaius Darastrix
"Huh, what were you saying? Sorry I was thinking about something."
Remiandre Conscientia Lehsade
"Oh? Someone's finally come to my library. I must request that you keep your hands off of my books. They're very fragile."
Kessenaye
"I am the remnant, and I must be all that my family once was."
Akemi Assenti
"But what if...?"
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The Fallen Wings
by VitaminHeart on Sun Apr 22, 2012 4:28 pm
- 16 Replies
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- Last post by Beach-Born-Boy
on Sat May 12, 2012 9:40 pm
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The Fallen Wings
Most recent OOC posts in The Fallen Wings
Re: The Fallen Wings
Just wanted to make a note here that I won't be able to be online much this weekend so I won't be posting much the next few days.
Re: The Fallen Wings
Right. Well, I can't exactly do much but drop the occasional post as Remiandre giving a bunch of narration until I reach a stopping point, so I think I'll wait a little while and see if any of the characters in Elarain's castle drop by to visit. =D
Re: The Fallen Wings
Yeah, I accepted that pretty late last night, so I wasn't really typing up all the loose ends, it'll be done in a sec.
Re: The Fallen Wings
I think you forgot to update the list, Vitamin. It says the Mage role is still available. XD
Re: The Fallen Wings
If you'd like to join, just fill out the character form and submit it, I'll look it over once it's submitted.
Re: The Fallen Wings
SUre, if we don't get any more applicants for the role in a couple of days, I'll let you know.
Re: The Fallen Wings
Hey, Vitamin, I was thinking...
If no one falls in for the captive rider role, Narcissa can have been captured by Elarain? It would sort of amuse me... if only because Vell would then be alone with the Dragon Riders, and probably determined to help them find his mother.
Children who do not really understand war are always fun in a combat situation...
If no one falls in for the captive rider role, Narcissa can have been captured by Elarain? It would sort of amuse me... if only because Vell would then be alone with the Dragon Riders, and probably determined to help them find his mother.
Children who do not really understand war are always fun in a combat situation...
Re: The Fallen Wings
Oh, I was using 'they' as a gender neutral term, as 'it' sounds a little bit demeaning.
That's not to say other mages don't exist in the land, there are many, but only one was stolen by Elarain.
That's not to say other mages don't exist in the land, there are many, but only one was stolen by Elarain.
Re: The Fallen Wings
Hey I was wondering if there was more than one mage. Because in the description, you say "They" so I was thinking there would be more than one. If yes than I will be making a mage character as well. Thank you
Re: The Fallen Wings
Yes, spellcasters can safely be fairly powerful in this RP, so long as some limitations are considered. Magic has to draw its energy from somewhere after all, so every caster will have their limits, but mages can do some impressive things. Elarain has, after all, raised an army.
Re: The Fallen Wings
Can I reserve "The Mage?" If so, could they be a rather powerful spellcaster capable of frankly astonishing feats of magic, so as to put them on equal footing with the other characters, who will, for the most part, have dragons as well as magic? Don't worry about my char being overpowered. I have plenty of handicaps set up to level the playing field. Also, I'm assuming the Mage will be a rather reluctant assistant of the big bad? I was kind of hoping to heel face turn at some point. =D
Re: The Fallen Wings
For those of us who were parts of the last one, are we allowed to re-join with our old characters?
The Fallen Wings
"The Fallen Wings"
Hi there folks!
I am Vitamin, your GM for Fallen Wings and I'd like to welcome you to the main OOC thread, the place where any important announcements, discussions and such will be taking place.
I may put up a lore thread in the near future in order to get across some of the other points of the magic, creatures, and society in Magna, but I'm fairly casual and I have no issue with people taking stuff and running with it to a degree. There are just a few questions that people tend to ask with this idea.
A few other things to clear up before we begin.
For the main roles listed, I won't be taking hard and fast reservations. Not in the sense that if you call it, it becomes your slot. I'd prefer that people got slots through writing awesome stuff instead, and I hate to turn away great writers. So, here's the deal. You can post on the OOC, or PM me to register your interest in the role, and if you do so, it won't be given away until you've submitted a character...or unless you've failed to make any contact with the board or me for a couple of days, or haven't announced your absence. In the event that several people apply for one slot, I'll look over the sheets and select the one that I feel best suits the role. Thar's not to say that any not selected are bad or inferior, but would most likely because I feel that one character in particular may have more scope to drive the plot.
Alright, I think that's formalities over with for now. Feel free to ask on here, or fling me a PM if you've got any questions.
Hi there folks!
I am Vitamin, your GM for Fallen Wings and I'd like to welcome you to the main OOC thread, the place where any important announcements, discussions and such will be taking place.
I may put up a lore thread in the near future in order to get across some of the other points of the magic, creatures, and society in Magna, but I'm fairly casual and I have no issue with people taking stuff and running with it to a degree. There are just a few questions that people tend to ask with this idea.
A few other things to clear up before we begin.
For the main roles listed, I won't be taking hard and fast reservations. Not in the sense that if you call it, it becomes your slot. I'd prefer that people got slots through writing awesome stuff instead, and I hate to turn away great writers. So, here's the deal. You can post on the OOC, or PM me to register your interest in the role, and if you do so, it won't be given away until you've submitted a character...or unless you've failed to make any contact with the board or me for a couple of days, or haven't announced your absence. In the event that several people apply for one slot, I'll look over the sheets and select the one that I feel best suits the role. Thar's not to say that any not selected are bad or inferior, but would most likely because I feel that one character in particular may have more scope to drive the plot.
Alright, I think that's formalities over with for now. Feel free to ask on here, or fling me a PM if you've got any questions.