Open Chronicles Blood on the Snow

[Ralzrydur]

Hunting Camp, two days travel from Faarin
Eretejva Tundra

You're going to die here, Hlafden.

The Blizzard had begun without warning, blinding everyone trapped inside of it.

Can you see me? I can see you.

Days prior a group of Nordenfiir had left the settlement of Faarin intent on trapping and hunting. The furs and meat would help provide for them and their families. Among the group was Hlafden Arulffson.

Why do you persist with this futile defiance? There is no escape.

Unbeknownst to the Nordenfiir they were the ones being hunted though. It came with the blizzard. The Dragon.

Over here.

One by one the Nordenfiir had died. A silhouette in the blinding snow the heralding their end. Most had not even seen their deaths coming. It was over in a flash, another corpse fresh in the snow and a splash of crimson across it.

There's only you now, Hlafden.

Hlafden Arulffson, axe in hand spun this way and that. He could hear the beast circling him, sense it moving through the blinding snow snow like a shadow. When he felt it was close he swung the axe but came up short, there was nothing there. More swings would follow and they too would be misses. The Nordenfiir hadn't seen his companions die, he'd heard their abrupt screams cut short though.

....

Sudden and without warning a tail snapped out catching Hlafden in the side. It sent the Nordenfiir sprawling, his axe lost in the moment of impact as it was thrown from his grip. As Hlafden struggled to all fours he felt the sting in his side from cracked ribs, the coppery taste of blood was in his mouth and then he growled....

Where are you!?!?

...the roar of his voice was accompanied by an almost instantaneous change as his body contorted, shifting as the svalen change overtook him. Instead of a man Hlafden had become an enormous bear. Large and imposing his was a warform not unlike many of his kin, the scars of battle touched him here too marking him as someone accustomed to bloodshed. He was not accustomed to what came next.

HERE!

The answer came swiftly as a pair of massive jaws surged out of the blinding snow, snapping down in a heartbeat. The Nordenfiir, large as he was in his svalen form was caught between the jaws and dozens of sharp, sword like teeth which clamped down over his spine and carved a path through his flesh and bone with minimal resistance. Halfden was raised off his feet, shaking in the air and then spat out landing somewhere in the distance.

As the Nordenfiir lay in the snow, paralyzed from the waist down he'd slowly begin shifting back to the form of a man. He knew his back was broken, felt his last breaths beginning to leave him and the warmth of his blood spreading across the snow beneath him as he gazed ahead. He was not alone though. The snout of the Dragon came through the snow first until Hlafden felt it exhale on him, his eyes were blurry but he still beheld the beast.

I'll miss you, Nordenfiir.

In a way the Dragon was saying goodbye to an old friend. Generations ago an ancestor of Hlafden Arulffson had hunted him, wounded him alongside his companions. The Dragon, Ralzrydur had fled and many thought he may have died from his wounds but that was a mistake. It had taken him years but he had caught the scent of his old enemies again, their blood at least.

The Blizzard continued to rage even as the bodies of the dead grew cold.

Spoiler

OOC: There is no posting order to this thread. The Dragon, Ralzrydur has tracked and killed the blood relative of an old foe. Anyone wanting to opt in can feel free to discover the remnants of the Hunting Camp and the bodies of the dead and solve the mystery of what happened here. There's a chance the Dragon or someone in his service may appear.

The Hunting Camp can be whatever anyone wants, probably an assortment of large, reinforced tent structures or maybe some semi permanent hunting cabins.

 

[Enca Boralaine]

Blending in with the pearly white snow an alabaster attired figure moved through the frigid Eretejva tundra a black sun hat and brown leather briefcase just barely marking her presence in the icy winds.

"It's so cold and depressing out here! How do the Norderflir tolerate it? No wonder they're always so cranky..."

Enca Boralaine continued through the snow her hat now shielding her face from the shattered winds smacking against her pale face and red lips. A loud but distant cracking sound met the Vampire's pointed ears followed by a noticeable pick-up in the wind.

A familiar tingling feeling reached Enca's nose its sweet metallic aroma flipping a switch in the woman's mind. Pain flared up Enca's mouth and jaw as they moved and shifted to fit the long pair of fangs breaking through her gums. The rest of her teeth soon followed until Enca's mouth was a cage of flaxen yellow razor blades ravenous at the prospect of satisfying their thirst.

Enca ran her tongue over her teeth and bolted in the direction of the crimson banquet her instincts growing fouler by the second.

The Vampire honed in on the source of feeding and admittedly was a little delighted by the sight. It was a source of shame for Enca that she often found those with gaping wounds to be little more than a source of feeding but then again she'd had so much taken from her just by being a Vampire a pureblood at that. Why shouldn't she have a little nibble? These Nordenflir are long dead and the snow will freeze their bodies over soon enough, it's not like they'll be needing their blood anytime soon right?

Having fully given into her base desires Enca slithered over toward the nearest Nord her fingers now claws and her teeth like daggers as she thought of what his blood would taste like. As she stepped through the carnage Enca found herself inside a giant crater its strange pattern and imprint in the ice calling her back to reality.

"This...is a footprint...how is it so...big..."

It would seem a meal would have to wait, giant footprints always take precedence especially when the thing that made them could still be nearby. The thing's scent was still in the air and it wasn't pleasant. It was a cold scaly stench that reeked of decay save for the sweet smell of blood that ran through its veins.

Now that she was paying greater attention Enca noticed that the ice around her was hopelessly shattered and displaced to the point that the blood from the corpses this beast left behind was running through the cracks. There were tents scattered around the area but most of them were in tatters or outright destroyed leaving only one small tent to advocate for the camp's existence.

The footprints of this giant creature were still marked on the snow they moved toward the northeast before stopping altogether thought it was quite noteworthy that the final footprints were deeper than the ones before it.

"How ghastly! It's almost as though he just...launched off the ground."

Before Enca was merely intrigued but now a healthy dose of terror and adrenaline ran through her withered old veins...

...And it was beautiful.

Enca had her heading, the footprints may have stopped but they pointed in the direction of the mountain range piercing the blizzard. It may not be the best lead but it's her only lead and so it's her duty to follow her curiosity.

"But first..."

Enca turned back toward a frozen corpse lying in the snow their glassy eyes and colorless face highlighting the ruby delight trapped inside. His legs were utterly crushed and his horrified face was pepper with splotches of blood.

"Just...one for the road couldn't hurt!"

Greedily the Vampire rushed over her teeth penetrating the man's neck with little difficulty as his sweet honey-like ichor flowed down her throat like a smooth bottle of whiskey only better and with a sweeter taste.

 

[Ralzrydur]

According to some cultures the blood held the genetic memory of everyone that could be traced back through a specific bloodline. Did that mean the final memories of the dead might flash across the mind of Enca Boralaine like lightning in a bottle? Perhaps. It could be that the drink she took would impress upon her what occurred to at least one of these men.

Did that sour the taste or would it make it all the more exotic for her?

If she saw nothing then there would be nothing to see however she might glean a larger picture.

Dragon scale.

A malevolent gaze capped with crimson.

The flash of a claw.

All these were among the last things the man she drank from had witnessed before his life was extinguished. A sense of dread would likely accompany the imagery. Whatever this man and his cohort had seen they understood it was their doom. There was no escape, no chance of survival.

---

The Blizzard roared. Tracks left in the snow would be buried completely. The Encampment would vanish, no one would even no it existed once it was buried beneath the snowfall.

The Mountains loomed in the distance, barely visible due to the sleet and snow.

Another clue? Treetops stretching out in that direction had been splintered at their peak. Tinder remained. It was as though something large had flown overhead reducing the wood to splinters as it passed by, leaving destruction in its wake.

The Trek into the mountains would be perilous, if she dared to attempt it.

The Eretejva Tundra was inhospitable at best and under these conditions was worse. Nordenfiir had survived in this land for generations, the history of their people stretched back for an age.

If the blizzard roared here below the Mountains it must have raged atop them, warning anyone who dared to challenge them.

 

[Enca Boralaine]

"Mmmmm...He was a bit saltier than I like. Savory is fine with me but salty not so much."

Enca turned in the direction of Faarin a large settlement just south of her and scowled as she recalled the eating and drinking habits of the Nordenflir.

"Maybe if they ate less meat and drank less mead their blood wouldn't be so...deliciously revolting!"

Even with the standards, Enca set for herself most people didn't enjoy being used as a wine bottle so there's no use complaining about blood that wasn't offered to her. Forgetting to introduce itself fear rose in Enca's chest it's cold heavy presence unwarranted making it all the more interesting. There was nothing present to elicit such terror and the danger that must be neutralized wasn't present. This isn't Enca's fear it's someone else's.

"Maybe I was tasting fear rather than salt..."

There was a sharp tingling feeling in the Vampires legs as the new blood cycled through her bloodstream imposing a shard of her victim's pain into her body.

"Well, that doesn't tickle..."

This isn't the normal fragmented psyche Enca comes across in her travels this is true pain like having the skin ripped from your body exposing the muscle beneath. Just what attacked that man? And why does it hurt so much! As the snow continued to crunch under her weight Enca felt drawn to a spot in the glimmering foam a large clump of it stacked abnormally on the ground.

"Well well well...what do we have here?"

Enca stuck her frigid hands into the snow her fingers wrapping around a sizeable almost skin-like object...wait it is skin! Well, it's more accurate to say it's a scale but same difference, right? Now things fit together, the scale, the trail of destruction left in the ice and at the camp, the crushing feeling in Enca's legs, and the string of mangled corpses plagued with fear.

"Ahhhh...to face a winged terror just like the Knights of old! There's no telling what stories a scourge like this one might have to tell..." Enca licked her lips a thin stream of drool running down her chin. "I've never drained a dragon before! MmmMmMmm just the thought of a nibble of his flesh is enough to get me all flustered..."

Enca stopped in her tracks dead tree limb marking the entrance to the foot of the mountain range. The path was desolate and unkempt and the dirt road present seemed to be merely a shortcut for hikers and hunters that came up here searching for adventure.

Enca smiled as she headed up the mountain her lips pursed as she whistled a joyous tune searching for the dragon Ralzrydur.

 

[Ralzrydur]

The Mountains were foreboding, the pathway Enca Boralaine discovered sparsely traveled as were many of the others that ascended towards the rocky peaks. While the Nordenfiir did travel high into the mountains any paths that they used were likely under a constant barrage from the elements.

The Blizzard would intensify the further Enca traveled and no mistake should be made, she would need to travel for hours maybe even days to reach the summit. The entire time she would be pummeled by snow and wind to say nothing of the other perils she would have faced during her ascent.

At points the pathway would become narrow, the rocky face of the mountain and anywhere from a foot to several meager inches all that stand between her and plummeting a lengthy distance. She was a vampire though, doubtless her superior physical attributes would aid her more than once.

While Enca would not encounter anyone on her way up the mountain there were times when she may have had the feeling she was being watched. Perhaps men, elevated above her on ledges were looking down on her and tracking her progress or maybe this was all in her mind. They say that the elements can play havoc on ones senses if they weren't prepared which begged the question, how prepared was Enca?

She would would be climbing for hours, the day would soon begin to die and the light of the sun hidden behind the sleet and snow of the blizzard started to fade. Only then, at the end would she have her first encounter...

"Hold!"

...came a strong, masculine voice from somewhere hidden behind the wall of snow flying in all directions. Visibility wasn't more than a few feet in any direction but shadows would be obvious, the silhouette's of men or a man in the distance coming towards her.

The Northman was large, nearly seven feet tall and thick with lengthy brown hair tied back so that it was kept out of his eyes and a full beard covering his features. He wore a fur that rest across his shoulders but was otherwise bare chested, a mass of scars and tribal tattoos displayed across his chest; the cold didn't seem to bother him as he came into view.

"This Mountain is forbidden."

....he stated clearly, his eyes narrowing as the blizzard also affected his vision though it seemed he may have had another way of detecting Enca. Focusing on her he knew she was no Nordenfiir by simple purview of her attire and complexion though he may have been somewhat surprised at her size being that she was a woman. Regardless he went on, giving her either a warning or an invitation....

"Unless you seek the White Death."

 

[Enca Boralaine]

(Sorry for the wait!)

Skittering along the steep edge of a cliffside Enca took extreme care with each movement a huge pit of jagged rocks waiting below their sharp edges enthralled at the prospect of impaling her. Could she survive the fall? Maybe, maybe not what's not in question is that it would certainly do a lot more than sting. Over the past two days, the blizzard has only gotten more intense the further she ascends the same goes for the terrain and its jagged structures that only become steeper and more life-threatening closer to the summit.

Not to mention food, as it turns out most creatures don't like below freezing temperatures so finding a good mountain goat or maybe even a bird to munch on was hard. As much as she detests that fact Enca does indeed need constant feeding in order to maintain a sane mind and body (as if drinking blood for nutrition is sane). Also...

...She really needed a latrine...

Yeah, surprise surprise climbing a mountain requires either an absurdly strong bladder or a willingness to go in a bush...Enca had neither. Surprise surprise again it turns out having a diet mostly consisting of liquid meant you had to pee a lot more often who would have thought eh? There was an odd smell in the air one potent enough to pierce the veil of snow that clouded her vision and clogged up her sense of smell. No matter where she stood no matter where she hid the scent followed her from the moment she stepped foot on the mountain, like eyes burning into the back of her skull.

Creepy. Even for her.

Enca inched her way off the steep cliffside a deep breath passing through her lungs as her feet stood on (what she hoped to be) solid ground. The sun had already dipped below the horizon and the moon was steadily rising to take its place, soon moonlight would shower the area and make it extremely painful if not impossible to travel.

"Now where can I find a good cave..."

"HOLD!" Yelled a stern voice that instilled a respect Enca was not prone to feeling. The caster of that voice was no ordinary person either but a freakishly large man with long brown hair and a stare colder than the ice itself. The fur on his body covered only the most secretive of areas and the scars lining his body marked the battles and trials he's no doubt endured.

"This mountain is forbidden" Enca planted her hands on her hips her eyes meeting the man who she assumed to be Nordenflir.

"And just who decided that? You? If you think I came all the way up here to-"

The man's eyes narrowed as he spoke cutting her off. "Unless you seek the White Death." Enca furrowed her brow.

"The White Death? Is he some kind of Nordic Metaphor for blizzard? Or is he just some urban legend meant to keep kids from getting themselves hurt?"

Even in this harsh snowstorm, the light of the moon shot through the clouds painting the mountain in its bluish-white shine. The veins on Enca's neck began to bulge and her mouth began to salivate as her eyes burned with fury a deep-seated pain rising in her soul and skin.

"Can we maybe continue this-" Enca's hand moved to cover the stream of blood coming out of her nape. "Someplace warmer? Preferably somewhere with a toilet?"

With each passing moment, Enca grew closer to the Dragon Ralzrydur his sharpened claws and terrible maw no doubt awaiting her.

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

Cauldwin crawled out from a inky black pool in a small icy cave beneath the a mountain. The acidic black tar falling away from his rusted plates and eating a small way into the snow as a crawled coughing, rasping, and twitching from the dark portal. Like a poor swimmer who barley escaped the grasp of the ocean.

When his body finally stopped twitching he rose to his feet, but was unable to stand-straight as the cave ceiling did not permit it. The throbbing in his skull and the faint, barely parseable whisperings of the War-Father still filling his head. His mind and his breathing returned to him slowly, he looked down to his left arm. Remembering the lack of half of it...

He then looked forward, to see the faint light of the sun in the distance of the small icy cavern. He had tried to travel to Alliria and ended up in some sort of icy hell. From his recent luck, hopefully he'd run into some sort of savages to... 'sentence' , "Woough-wugh-welp" , he cracks the joints in his right hand and steels himself, "Let's puhr-pretend this d-detour is inten-ta-tional..."

 

[Ralzrydur]

The Northman fixed his cold gaze on Enca when she questioned if the White Death was merely a metaphor or an urban legend. He was unimpressed with querry. Looking at her, even through the heavy snow of the blizzard it seems as though he could see the bulging veins beginning to show on Enca Boralaine as well as the fury burning in his eyes but was undeterred.

Maybe the Northman was thinking but he didn't respond to Enca straight away. In fact his head craned, almost as though he was sensing something else but what? A new arrival maybe but not close to the two of them. When it appeared as though the Northman came back to the present he'd have said...

"There are many caves on this mountain, some of them homes to horrors you cannot yet comprehend."

...it was almost a type of foreshadowing however, raising his right arm the man would gesture higher along the pathway that Enca had been traveling...

"What you seek is there, if you have the will to reach it."

...somewhere, along the pathway was the entrance to a cave that Enca could discover however she might need to bare the pain caused by the light of the moon a little longer. Perhaps it was a test of endurance and her mental resilience. As for a latrine, well probably no luck but this was a mountain so Enca should expect that she would need to rough it in that regard.

Once he'd delivered his message the Northman, looking at Enca would step backwards and fade back into the blizzard. He'd appear as a shadowy silhouette until finally disappearing altogether. Enca would be alone again then, the blizzard throwing heavy snow all around her and continuing its blinding presence.

If she continued onwards along the path leading higher onto the Mountain the snow would deepen, unless she was possessed of some supernatural grace it would likely come as high as her knees. The pathway would narrow again too, many who traveled it would need to press themselves against the stone of the mountain as they inched forward until it widened again. The Blizzard continued too, blocking a majority of the moonlight though some of luna's kiss still filtered through the snow.

At the end of all of this, atop a ridge of the mountain where the rock leveled off to an extent the promised entrance to an enormous cave awaited. Icy stalactites and stalagmites coming together at the mouth of the cave to create the visage of a toothy veneer. It was foreboding and enormous, easily able to accommodate those seeking to enter the darkness.

---

Unfortunately for Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr the Eretejva Tundra was as close to being an Icy Hell as anywhere else in the world. The Blizzard raging on around the mountain covered the base and flowed outwards away from it, growing in intensity as one climbed higher. He may have mistaken moonlight for the light of the sun from his place in the small, icy cavern.

Outside of the cavern Cauldwin might find that he was actually a lot higher on the mountain than initially presumed. Snow had piled high outside of the cavern entrance thanks to the constant barrage of sleet from the blizzard. Pushing past the snow and into the white of the blizzard rocky terrain would await alongside steep ledges that dropped for hundreds of feet.

The terrain would come together as a pathway that could either lead upwards or downwards. The Blizzard howled, the cold would bite...

 

[Aidenzak]

Alden had been tracking for a while. Apparently the camp of men that had gone missing had drawn some attention in the town they had departed from. A job was put up to go find them. The job had yet to be picked up when he had arrived in town. No one was willing to brave the cold. However, the pay was proficient. Enough to keep him going for a few months, in fact. He, as a being of his sort, would do better on the mountain than most denizens of the village. He, as a tiefling, was naturally warmer than most. If he willed it, snow would melt upon touching his skin. His body warmth would allow him to manage just fine. Thus, the tiefling geared up for the journey. Wolf fur boots with multiple layers of trousers, a white shirt with a light grey leather overshirt, and a longcoat with a fur rimmed collar and hood which had holes for his horns to poke out of. Within his coat he had stored his hand crossbow, some throwing knives, and a dagger. A longsword and shield were slung over his back, along with a bow. The quiver, full of various arrows, was attached to his belt at the hip. He had a satchel slung over his other shoulder, full of other various needs. The journey certainly wasn't fun, but he never got dangerously cold as he waded through the snow. He couldn't get his cigarette lit though, and that annoyed him. So he settled for putting a green apple flavored sucker in his mouth instead as he journeyed into the great white sea.

Eventually, the snow got too heavy. The camper's trail had disappeared. The tiefling takes out the dagger from his coat, and slices it across his palm. He then snaps a finger, and the blood evaporates away, the wound burned shut. His eyes begin glowing purple. Now able to see their scent trail, he continues up the mountain. He eventually comes across the ruined camp, dead bodies scattered all about. "Aye...that figures..." He mutters to himself. He keels down by one of the corpses, sweeping away the snow as he takes a long sniff, eyes darting about as he looked at all the scent trails. There was another trail here, for sure. Not human. Yet...the trail was more recent than the bodies. It had....bitten? Nibbled? But it didn't kill them. That distinction went to something else. He rolled the body over to look at where it was bitten. Four holes, blood drained. "Son'o a bitch..." He muttered. The scent of whatever killed the men has long faded. All that remained was the vampiric trail. Thus, he draws his blade to be at the ready, carrying the longsword casually as if were a dagger, and continues following the trail.

It wouldn't be long before Enca, and the person she was talking to, would see someone approaching them in the distance, through the wall of white cascading from the sky. A hooded humanoid figure with horns and glowing purple eyes. They had a blade in hand, but it was lowered, not intended to be used. At least not yet. The vampire, with her sensitive nose, might be able to catch the scent of recent blood on the approaching figure. Their blood would smell....different. Not infernal, no. More ancient. Eldritch. Smelled delicious though, whoever it was.

(This is my first time jumping into a thread like this! Tell me if I messed up or missed anything.)

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

(OOC: Figured while we are waiting for Enca Boralaine I'd post once more. Character's gonna have this scene anyway and it shouldn't affect any of the other characters. So it should just put our little band of eccentric monstrosities closer to first meetings...)

Cauldwin shambled over to the source of light, the passageway becoming less constrictive as he moved. As he got closer he soon realized the light came from refracting beams splintering out from a semi-transparent wall of ice. It was a small break across the the rest of the lightly refractive, cyan-blue glacier walls that the rest of the cave was made of. Through the break Cauldwin could barely make out a orangish glow from the other side of the wall.

He twitched and jittered as he puzzled out how he was going to move through. There was no way he was returning back to that cursed realm that he had to begrudgingly acknowledge as his savior. At last he came to a conclusion: a brilliantly stupid conclusion. He was going to punch the wall.

He winded up his mailed fist and struck the ice. To his surprise he had actually left a sizeable indent in it and had the bones in his hand remain intact. It appeared the immediate solution was brute force. He struck it again: making the indent deeper. He struck it again and he punched a hole through the wall, the sound of wind whistling through notifying him that this cave led outside.

Peering through the hole he could see jutting out from one of the walls in the now-much-larger-looking-cave, was a formation of odd luminescent crystals on the right most wall. Imbedded in them was an ancient pick, looking down he could see an ancient crime scene. On the floor of this apparent long abandoned mine was the scattered mummified remains of a humanoid male. Roughly between six-three and six-six going by the skeletal mass of the bisected torso, wrapped in furs. Cauldwin supposed this man should have picked better friends. At the realization of his unintentional pun, he slapped the rusted visageless helm he wore.

Cualdwin then stepped back and began pounding the wall, until it crumbled down (a process taking a few hours). The ice above him quaked, instinctively he dove forwards through the now empty wall and narrowly escaped the cave. Two realizations struck him: in another life he could have been a pretty good miner and now there would be no retreat from where ever he had ended up. Cauldwin looked up to match the gaze of the ancient victims. A case to old to hope to dispense justice... looking to a piece of the strange crystal that was still held in one of it's removed hands meant at the least, he had a light source.

Prying the crystal from the cold dead hand, getting to his feet, and wandering out the mouth of the cave. He found himself on a slope, in a blizzard, and at the dead of night. His Nordenfiir heritage and his new found affliction left him unaffected by the doubtlessly biting cold but even he could simply freeze solid. Weighing his options quickly, he surmised that staying in the cave would mean a slow demise and his thoughts were then interrupted by a gnawing hunger. It was time to follow the oldest guiding principle he knew: apathy meant death. So he began his descent down the treacherous slopes.

Aldenaxk Drazukel​

Ralzrydur​

Enca Boralaine​

 

[Enca Boralaine]

(Sorry for the wait been extremely busy as of late!)

At this point in time on the trail up the mountain, Enca was having a difficult time deciding which sensation was the worst. The burning sting on her skin as rays of moonlight pierced the thick blizzard and punished her for daring to wander during the night, the growing emotion of dread as she grew nearer to the cave the Nordenflir mentioned, or perhaps the biting cold that assaulted her heeled feet as Enca desperately trudged through the snow her knees deep within the ice.

Any normal being would have died if they attempted to climb the mountain in the fashion she's chosen but fortunately for her Enca's body appeared to have a special defense mechanism even she was unaware of. The Vampire knew that the mark of beasts resided within her but when started growing fur on her arms and legs in response to the frost even she was surprised, perhaps she has never seen this because she's never been pushed this far in terms of weather. Normally when Enca is hard-pressed to get somewhere quickly she could rely on speed and agility or perhaps even winged flight but on a mountain this steep and jaded with torrents this violent and abrasive caution took precedence.

At the end of her snow-filled path was another cliff's edge this one even narrower than the last.

"Well, these broken old things aren't gonna help me."

Enca kicked her battered and broken heels off the side of the mountain a tear rolling down her cheeks as she thought of tall the good times they had. Grieving aside Enca dug her claws into the rocky cliff face lunar penance yielded in the face of a huge blizzard that veiled the vampire's pale skin. After what felt likes hours of climbing Enca reached the other side of the chasm the end of her journey sat right before her in the form of a colossal cave with icicles and stalagmites lining the roof and floor of the cave in what felt like a horrible maw ravenous and all-consuming.

"Just like the stories..."

The scent of blood was strong in this cave as well as the stench Enca picked up on earlier.

I Couldn't even smell in this blizzard, if I'm getting a scent now this has GOT to be the place!

Despite the danger signs practically shouting from the cave Enca hastily charged inside eager to get out of the blizzard and the moon.

Ralzrydur

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr​

Aldenaxk Drazukel​

 

[Ralzrydur]

Inside the cave awaited an enormous expanse. The Blizzard howling outside would ensure that Enca Boralaine could not forget about her, snow gusting into the entrance to the cavern behind her.

The cavernous interior that awaited her was massive. Outside the entrance to the cave appeared large, even through the dense snow of the blizzard but inside amidst the icy teeth that had formed around the entry it was even more impressive. Merely assessing the entrance alone would put it at nearly 40ft in height and the cavern itself was taller.

Snow covered most of the entryway, spilling in from the mountain side. Beyond that there was a mixture of ice and cold rock. While the cave appeared dark from the outside the ice seemed to catch light from an unknown source ensuring it was dimly lit. Opening into a large cavern where rock had been shaped by the elements, stretching from ceiling to floor in some cases and was now partially covered over in ice several catacombs could be seen stretching off from the main room.

Another point of interest would be large ruts cut across the stone and ice where something had moved, the footprints were enormous; probably larger than Enca was tall. There were other footprints too, some large and others the size of a mans that seemed to move throughout the cavern however it was difficult to ascertain how long these had been here.

Wind whistled up through the catacombs stretching beyond the main chamber.

Have you come to seek death?

A Voice, far deeper within the catacombs rumbled from somewhere unseen and seemed to resound all around Enca. As the voice filled her ears, pulsing through the cavern it concluded with an inhaling sound that seemed to suck the air back towards it.

No.

The Voice corrected itself.

You're no Nordenfiir. Something else. Tell me.

Deeper in the main chamber, near several of the catacombs leading away and barely within sight was what appeared to be an altar carved into a piece of stone. Atop a series of steps stretching 10ft in height and carved into the stone was a platform where the altar rest, little more than a smooth slab of stone to lay items upon.

And you've not come alone. Tell me. Who are your friends?

Clearly the Dragon's senses extended out across the mountaintop. It had sensed Enca whether through magic or other means before she had reached the entrance to its lair and it similarly sensed the others, Aldenaxk Drazukel and Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr from their positions on the mountain. Like Enca it knew little about the others, perhaps even assuming them to be Nordenfiir but when they arrived and gave it the opportunity to drink in their scent it would know more.

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

Cauldwin continued trudging down the height of the mountain the small circle of light around him emanating that the odd crystal he had discovered. That being the only clear guidance in the whipping winds of the blizzard and the dark. However despite his luck, time and the weather were working against him. The joints of his armor had begun to freeze stiff, he became entirely focused on moving to lower ground before he would be frozen in time. His trudge became a determined jog, and his determined jog became a desperate sprint. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, as he felt the ground beneath him shift and crack.

Cauldwin looked down the the snow on the high mountain peninsula as it sunk into the ground like quicksand. Without time to understand what had just happened, he plummeted into a large, catacomb like cave beneath the mountain, letting out a inhuman scream like that of a drowsy bear as he did, "AAAAAAUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH~" , finishing with a loud metallic thud and clamber of plates and chain settling as he smacked against the icy floor, landing on his back. He stared up at the small hole in the ceiling of the cave that looked a slightly lighter shade of black than the rest of the the new abyss he found himself him. Rotten luck, but at least he wouldn't freeze solid.

Slight pain ratcheted through his sternum, defensively he placed his damaged arm over the plated area it felt like it was coming form and rolled unto his stomach, "Uggh... that's prob'ly a rib..." ,he managed to shake off the pain and get to his knees, cringing briefly from another wave of pain as he realized he might have hurt himself something bad this time, before getting to his feet. Looking around he couldn't see a damn thing, that crystal he was carrying must of shattered when it hit the ice, and any luminescence it had was lost when doing so. Thankfully or perhaps worse, he could use his hearing to find his way around, he didn't have echo location, and the echoes going through every corridor in this massive place didn't help with telling the distance or depth. Still, better than nothing and he had to keep moving.

Aldenaxk Drazukel​

Ralzrydur​

Enca Boralaine​

 

[Aidenzak]

The magic Alden had used earlier had heightened his senses. He could hear it, the scream of a man falling. Perhaps a survivor of the expedition? He altered his course not long after the scream, now in a hurry to trudge through that snow. He regrets not buying the special snow shoes, but they just looked so damn stupid! Eventually he made his way up the hill where he heard the screaming, and found a gaping hole. He could see them with his eyes, glowing in the snow. The footsteps were fresh. He crouches down to peer into the hole. "Poor bastard...definitely fell. But I don't see no body...." He takes out his hand crossbow, and loads a bolt with a rope attached to it. He then shoots it into the ground beside the hole, grabbing the rope to begin his descent down afterwards. His eyes drift about as he lowers himself. "This place...it's fuckin massive." Once he was low enough, he let go of the rope, dropping down onto the ice. His darksight was helpful in this regard.

It's likely that Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr would hear the footsteps approaching as Alden hurried to catch up with this supposed survivor. He notes that this survivor doesn't smell like a vampire, so that's a start. Due to Cauldwin having trouble making his way through, the tiefling is able to catch up to him relatively easily, and waves when he spots the massive bulk of armor in the dark. "There ye are. I was sent to look for your group! The hell are you doing in here?"

Meanwhile, with Alden closer, the dragon would get his scent. Not Nordenfiir. Definitely not. His blood smells of something much older, ancient. Possibly even eldritch. An intriguing scent, but not one that's directly threatening at the moment.

 

[Enca Boralaine]

Orange light filled the freezing ice chamber its golden glows reflecting off the ominous icicles that lined the floor and ceiling telling more than Enca was let in on. Each step she took felt heavier than the last and each gust of wind that blew over her body was colder than the last like palpable danger. The further Enca went the smoother the floor became albeit more slippery as ice coated the walls and floor just barely showing the rock beneath.

The cavern seemed so much bigger on the inside and it was a monstrous structure then too. There were cuts in the ice like claws taken to the frost and feet smashed against the ice leaving it cracked and splintered in the shape of an enormous footprint like the ones outside.

"Dragon..."

Have you come to seek death? Roared a voice that radiated power as it traveled on the cold biting wind. Fear. That was the word she was looking for, it had been so long since she's felt it, years, decades, the two rarely become acquainted with each other and this is one of those unique flashes.

"Um...no, I'm very happy with being alive please!"

You're no Nordenflir. Something else. Tell me.

"Well you see I'm...uh..."

Enca was contemplating whether or not to be truthful when the Dragon spoke down the corridor once more the sheer force of his voice shaking the cavern and dropping icicles onto the floor.

And you've not come alone. Tell me. Who are your friends?

"Friends? I'll have you know I'm in short supply of those and even if I wasn't no one s foolhardy enough to follow me up this gods-forsaken deathtrap!"

Enca convinced herself that she was alone, she couldn't hear anyone entering the cave and she couldn't smell anyone coming up the path. If someone did show up it was a good thing because if the Dragon Ralzrydur suddenly becomes famished then all she has to do is run faster than whatever poor shmuck is behind her.

"You asked what I was so I will tell you. I am a traveler a doctor to be exact. I travel the world healing the wounded and well...you've left a good bit of wounded souls back there."

Enca ran her tongue over her teeth her face flushed with red as she walked further into the cave.

"Now it's your turn. Just what are you ominous voice? And you better not say something stupid and vague like: I am death."

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr
Aldenaxk Drazukel

 

[Ralzrydur]

There was silence from deep in the catacombs where the voice had emanated from following Enca Boralaine's statement that she had no friends who followed her up onto the mountain. A reverberation echoed out from the tunnels shortly thereafter that sounded like movement however the low light made it difficult to see. As it drew closer to Enca she would have heard the rumbling voice again once she'd made an introduction.

Doctor.

The word rolled outwards with indifference. The Dragon's mind was somewhat alien to other creatures, it could be that it did not recognize the profession for what it was or that it simply didn't care but the remark it issued was done so with some disdain.

How interesting.

As the voice rumbled outwards Enca would be able to tell that it drew closer to her, deep in the dim light of the cavern the shadows moved and an enormous silhouette began to take shape. It was difficult to make out an exact form but red, malevolent eyes shining with a predatory glean radiated out towards her.

They call me the Ice Stalker, the Hungerer. My wings are the blizzard, my breath is the biting cold. My claws are swords, my scales armor. I am Ralzrydur.

An appropriately grandiose introduction for the Dragon. With his voice an echoing rumble carrying throughout the cavern the Dragon, moving forward on powerful limbs revealed itself to Enca.

The Dragon was enormous, dwarfing lesser creatures and towering even over houses. Scales, a mixture of dull white and pale blue and gray covered its body; whiter on its back and paler down low near the belly. Its forelimbs were massive, its claws reminiscent of swords as it flexed them across the floor of the cavern. The Claws scratched across the ice and stone, splitting it easily. While Enca could see the fore of its torso she would be able to tell it stretched back further into the darkness.

Lowering its head so that its snout came level with Enca the dragon assessed her carefully behind a gaze that was difficult to discern. Ralzrydur's head was set into a crown of bony protrusions and ridges which made the dragon even more intimidating. There was a brief moment where the dragon, inhaling through its nostrils caught a scent that didn't belong to Enca, it belonged to something else and smelled of something older, something different.

You are not the only one foolhardy enough to venture onto the mountain this day. This cavern is large, its tunnels descending deeper into the earth and across the mountainside. There are others close by.

His voice reverberated sharply, an exhale expelling a burst of hot air and stagnant breath across Enca.

One smells of an archaic bloodline, the other of decay.

The Dragon's head withdrew back into the darkness until the dim light only revealed the red of his eyes again but Enca would know he was still present. The Cavern was large, inhabited by others. Ogre's roamed the tunnels of the catacombs, maneaters and degenerate servants of the dragon. Aldenaxk Drazukel and Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr might run afoul of these flesh eaters in the catacombs of the mountain.

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

(OOC: Cauldwin would smell of petrichor and wet ash not decay, sorry if this correction seems petulant or OCD, but I thought that would be an important distinction going forwards.)

Even in the pitch black and disorienting echoing corridors, Cauldwin could still somewhat navigate the darkness with his hearing... and keeping a hand on the icy walls, carving a line into them with the iron fingers of his gauntlet. He walked on like that through the dark labyrinth like corridors for what seemed like days but was more likely hours, only once coming across one of his lines in the ice, and carving a parallels below it as he picked a new rout.

He continued forward like this until he heard a few distinct sounds echoing though the cave, more distantly he could hear a deep faintly womanly voice seeming to bicker to the void, perhaps a survivor gone mad in the depths of this place. More closely he could hear the distinct sound of metal piercing ice, he turned to face the direction, hoping to catch a faint light of a lantern or magical equivalent, but with no luck. Instead he heard the peddling of feet on the ice and the off-scent of some hell in combination with man letting him know that this was very likely a Teifling. Be that as it may, scent was no mark for physiological characteristics or intent, but at least it wasn't a Drow.

"This place...it's fuckin massive."

Okay, that is definitely a male. Strange to have one so far out in this icescape, you would think it would be difficult for something of demon blood to survive out here, unless he crawled his way out from the Rusted Realms only to drop into hell.

"There ye are. I was sent to look for your group! The hell are you doing in here?"

The being now closer, his scent reminded him of something he killed earlier in his life, those fishmen things back in that weird shanty village: Inns-something. Hardly mattered now, didn't seem like this one was trouble. He had asked Cauldwin about a group? As tempted as he was to either say he was the last or say that he ate their hearts, messing about and/or lying was not how he wanted to start his first more-or-less human interaction with his *new life*... or unlife, he'd figure out the specifics later with a doc. The gruff bestial voice that resounded with a metallic pranging from the helm answered, "Group? I didn't come with a group. And if their here... they're probably dead, lad." Cauldwin then mulled over his question for a second, no doubt at this point the er... lad, had likely had a good chance to glimpse the glowing eye that glowed out from the caverns in his helm.

Decided on an answer, Cauldwin shrugged and off muscle memory tried to reach behind his head and rub the back of his helm with his damaged arm, before quickly lowering it when no hand touched the back of his helm, "Didn' wind up here intentionally, if that wasn' obvious... but perhaps fa-",
Cauldin gestured with a shushing motion in front of his helm with his hand, assuming the being in front of him could see in the dark. He picked up on subtle clicking noises, and faint scampering coming from all directions. His right-hand quickly landed on his hilt. Black miasma began to radiate from the gaps in his plates and his breathing became hard and harsh like a wounded dog. He then barked a command to the being next to him with a stern, distorted, almost demonic sounding voice, "Cover your eyes if you wanna keep 'em, sheep!"

Before forcing out the blade from it's frozen scabbard, and causing sparks to fly out, creating in the dark tunnel a blinding flash of light to all the creatures that now surrounded him, small-eyed, white haired, ape-like creatures in the dark. Cauldwin's mouth twisted into a smile and he felt his jaw unhinge behind his helm in anticipation... food and slaughter, what other needs does any beast want?

Aldenaxk Drazukel​

Ralzrydur​

Enca Boralaine​

 

[Aidenzak]

Upon getting closer, and the man's response, Alden gags a bit. "Oh fuck....do you bathe? You know what, I ain't here to judge." He shakes his head. "So you weren't with the entire camp'o dead men outside?" He immediately seems cautious. "Wait a minute, are you with the vampire? You're not a ghoul are you? Or a thrall? I swear if I just walked into a blood orgy, I'm gonna-" Suddenly, the tiefling is shushed, and those sensitive ears pick up skittering in the cave. His hand goes to the sword on his back, drawing it with intent to slash anything that touches him. "Close my...I just wanted to make some coin, dammit." he shuts his eyes as the cave is flashed with light. Then he opens them as the light is fading, allowing him to see their visitors in the cave. "Little yetis. Annoying." He twirls his blade.

He gets into a defensive stance, ready to cut down any that charge him. "I use blood magic, so give me a wide berth after I cut one down. I'll be makin some fireworks." His eyes glow purple, his night vision allowing him to see in the darkness. Just as he turns around, one pounces at his face, With an upward slash, it's cleaved in half. He then snaps his fingers, and all the blood in the dead creature's body evaporates instantly, and his blade begins sparking with electricity. "Alright, who else is feelin stupid."

(Sorry for the short post. Long day)

 

[Enca Boralaine]

Enca had forgotten was fear was like that tingling feeling, that pit in her stomach they were there but they were manageable. If she just kept her composure she could endure and she could show this overgrown lizard who's boss.

Doctor.

The word sent shivers down her spine the bitter contempt in his voice colder than the ice she stood barefoot on. Every step he made shook the ground, every breath he took whistled through the walls in a low rumbling sound.

It's okay! It's okay! I can do this! I can do this!

Ruby eyes emerged from inside the darkness their predatory gaze oozing with malintent. There was death in his pupils and elegance in the shining scales that grew closer.

This is not okay! This is NOT okay! I can't do this! I CANNOT do this!

Shame tickled the vampire as she considered turning tail and running from this curr hours of climbing this monstrous mountain forgotten completely as the colossus emerged his scales like armor and his nails like swords as they scratched and clawed at the ground holding him steady as his dagger filled maw moved to speak the sugary scent of blood wafting from the back of his throat.

They call me the Ice Stalker, the Hungerer. My wings are the blizzard, my breath is the biting cold. My claws are swords, my scales armor. I am Ralzrydur.

Enca waved away the smell dashing up to her nose the sweet scent of blood diluted with the smell of rot and decay.

"Your breath is...something..."

The Dragon lowered his head to Enca's level a twinge of panic running through the vampire as she mulled over the possibility that dragons don't enjoy humor.

You are not the only one foolhardy enough to venture onto the mountain this day. This cavern is large, its tunnels descending deeper into the earth and across the mountainside. There are others close by.

Dry scalding air blew over Enca its burning touch contrasting the frigid air inside the cave produced by the lack of heat and the raging blizzard outside. Normally even Enca had enough sense to leave at a time like this but despite the looming danger presented Enca felt trying to escape would prove more suicidal than simply standing still and listening.

One smells of an archaic bloodline, the other of decay.

"Well, when your nostrils are the size of a watermelon I'm sure it's easy to smell someone coming."

Ralzrydur may have tolerated her humor but insults were a different matter she daresay that's a good enough cause to bite her head off her shoulders. Sometimes silence is the best response. A sigh of relief left the woman's chest as the dragon retreated further into the cave chunks of ice and dust falling from the roof as his presence became less threatening but ominous all the same as all the horrid vision of Ralzrydur's head darting out of the gloom to ensnare Enca between its jaws played through the vampire's mind.

"Those Nordenflir back at their camp. Why did you kill them? We're you hungry, vengeful...or did you have a different reason."

Enca took a step back as she awaited the dragon's answer hoping she didn't touch a nerve. Believe it or not, being eaten alive isn't very high on Enca's to-do list.

Aldenaxk Drazukel
Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Ralzrydur]

If the Dragons sensibilities were offended by Enca Boralaine's humor it wouldn't show until he decided to open his maw and crush her in a powerful, bone grinding hold that saw his teeth rend her apart with scythe like proficiency. At this point it appeared as though Enca had not roused the creatures ire though.

Camouflaged by the dim light of the cavern only Ralzrydur's silhouette could be seen across the icy walls of the catacombs. When he moved Enca would see the Dragon's shadow traveling across the wall, the piercing red of his eyes remained obvious though despite how he concealed his immense frame. He was moving around her, at a distance but remained careful to stay out of the light that poured into the cavern back near the massive entrance. The Light was dim but never seemed completely non existent despite the raging blizzard outside.

There was a silence for some time aside from the sounds of the Dragon's breath, his claws scraping across the ice and rock of the ground. Deeper in the catacombs of the cavern Ralzrydur's senses had attuned to what was going on elsewhere. It seemed as though the others who'd ventured into the darkness had ran afoul some of the other inhabitants.

Watermelon.

The Dragon repeated the word with some anonymity, the same kind someone might find if they had never experienced something. A Dragon like Ralzrydur with scales white and pale was at home in the arctic climate of the Eretejva Tundra, he'd likely never seen somewhere tropical like the Ixchel Wilds and watermelon did not grow in the cold.

Are they ripe? Like your body would be. Would they rupture with juice? Like you would if I bit down on you.

Inside the darkness of the cavern walls the Dragons voice resounded, reverberating throughout the cavern and there was another pause for a time while Ralzrydur assessed Enca. If she experienced fear he would know it, he could taste it in the air almost as though her skin permeated with it.

An Ancestor of one of the hunters hurt me, a generation ago. Now I've hurt him by ending his line, erasing it from history. The others were merely there.

Piercing red eyes radiated out from the darkness, watching Enca where he roamed. He was careful, a hunter stalking his prey who would only allow himself to be seen when he desired it but he did pause becoming aware of something else deeper in the caves; he sensed it, smelled it, heard it.

They've discovered other inhabitants of these caves. Degenerates, not very intelligent but they are tenacious and they possess a usefulness all their own.

He wouldn't go into detail. The Degenerate creatures that Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr and Aldenaxk Drazukel faced weren't incredibly intelligent though they did possess an animal cunning and a voracious appetite. They would attack the duo, seeking to rend flesh and devour them until the majority were slain. If there numbers dwindled to only a few they would likely retreat but these caverns were littered with the things too, who knows how many of them would be laying in wait. The Dragon did not care if they lived or died himself, there would always be more to replace them.

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

Cauldwin taking the advantage of the creatures light sensitivity pressed the assault in his blood rage, cleaving through three of five front most creatures that had surrounded him and the investigating Teifling the creatures that had readied themselves to pounce before they had been blinded. Mortally wounding two of three as he could smell the putrid scent that comes from disembowelment. The scent of carnage making his breathing and stance more animalistic.

The fourth one that he had missed with that first cleave jumped over him and attempted to bear down on the Teifling, before it could the creature was bisected, cauldwin being able to tell by the creatures feral scream of pain being cut short and the sound of the crackle of electricity. Of course the Trifling just had to be a Magi (slang in the Arreck-Slums for Mage/Wizard).

"Alright, who else is feelin stupid."

"THAT'S THE SPIRIT!" ,Caudldwin shouted sadistically as he caught the fifth member of the creatures by the right arm within the fold of his damaged arm, placing it into a bind. He then used his strength and broke the creatures humorous so that the bottom half of the bone jutted in front of the creatures face. This caused it to scream in pain like a stuck pig, he then dove it into it's eye socket and very likely deep into the brain: killing the creature without allowing it any death throws.

Cauldwin swung wildly at the creatures in the dark, not being able to see the things shuffling around in the cave system but being damn well able to hear every movement they make. He attempted to pursue, but successfully intimidated they retreated into the many connecting corridors in this Icey labyrinth. Given a moment to catch his breath, Cauldwin's breathing, voice, and stance returned to normal, err... normal for him. He looked back, in the direction of the Teifling, not knowing if he was still there. With a clear mind, he went over some of the things the man (for lack of a better term) had asked him...

He then spoke with a much more light-hearted, playful tone, "Hmmpf, 'ell then, *spell* sword... I 'aint got no clue what I am, save that I'm a law-dog. As for everythin' else, what's this 'bout a vampire?" ,he asked as he stepped over to the wounded creatures and plunged this tip of his longsword into their throats.

Aldenaxk Drazukel​

Ralzrydur​

Enca Boralaine​

 

[Aidenzak]

The tiefling remains in his fighting stance, blade crackling with electricity as five of the small yetis charge him. Luckily, the tiefling is prepared for such occasions. The fastest one, running ahead of his four other beastly companions, gets impaled first with a thrust from Alden's longsword. It's then lifted off of the ground as Alden keeps it impaled on the blade, pointing it at the other four charging him. In that instant, the impaled yeti's blood and flesh are consumed by Alden's next spell, leaving a pelt of fur drifting to the floor as more blue electricity fires from the tip of the blade blade. As if fires, he swings the sword, the beam of shock causing the four foes to explode into blood as it passes through them.

"PESTS. ALL'O YE." He hisses. As the beam diminishes, he casts out his left hand, and all the blood that the yetis had just exploded into begins glowing a bright red as it separates and hardens into spikes. The spikes begin throwing themselves like darts into any of the beasts that approach Alden, and by extension, the creatures trying to attack Cauldwin's blindspots. The more blood that gets spilt, the more powerful Alden gets, as he uses that blood as fuel from his magic. His final trick, he snaps his fingers, and blood from the ground gathers together into an orb, which then begins glowing with a blue light that brightens the cave.

"Not a spell sword. Blood mage, technically. Very illegal in a few places. Hope you don't mind, lawman." He chuckles, grinning slightly. "Honestly I'm just a wonderin merc. Anyways, I was sent here to find survivors of an expedition that came up here. Found them all dead as all fuck, their bodies had a few scents. First one I couldn't identify, but this place REEKS of it. The second is a vampire, definitely a vampire. It drank from the dead bodies before headin further up he mountain. Point is, there is a vampire on this mountain." His various magics gave him more breathing room to speak, occasionally swinging at the odd beast that made it through to fend it off, as each of his swings came with a cascade of electricity

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr Ralzrydur Enca Boralaine

 

[Enca Boralaine]

Oh gods he's moving! He's moving! Circling around me like a vulture eagerly stalking its soon-to-perish prey. What's his game? Is he trying to intimidate me? Trip me up? I won't let him and no amount of deep-voiced monologue is gonna-

Watermelon. Are they ripe?

"Oh! You've never heard of it? I suppose a being like yourself doesn't get around much. Well, you see a Watermelon is-

Like your body would be. Would they rupture with juice? Like you would if I bit down on you.

Regrettably, a small peep broke through Enca's lips before she forced her mouth shut once more preventing any attempts at speech by clamping down on her tongue her fangs digging into the tissue only for it to regenerate in an instant.

"I can assure you I am NOT very flavorful! Or ripe!"

Dear gods, he's ominous. The way he just lies in wait just racks my nerves in a way I don't understand...I don't like it! I don't like feeling this afraid! It's like he can smell my fear and is using it to make me suffer!

An Ancestor of one of the hunters hurt me, a generation ago. Now I've hurt him by ending his line, erasing it from history. The others were merely there.

"Well...if you did end the hunter's line then all they are is history...r-right?"

Correcting a Dragon...not one of Enca's smartest moves....and the bar wasn't even that high.

"If you can be hurt then those scales aren't infallible are they? Exactly what do you plan to do when those Nordenflir get pissed about their missing patrol hmm?" Enca's nostrils flared to life a horrible stinking charred smell assaulting her senses. "And Judging by the smell of burnt fur I'd say those degenerates aren't doing their job."

Ralzrydur | Aldenaxk Drazukel | Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Ralzrydur]

There was a moment when that small peep broke from Enca Boralaine's lips that Ralzrydur could taste the spike of fear in her. It was a form of empathy that the Dragon possessed, in greater amounts emotion could feed him, making him stronger in the process for a brief amount of time but even the momentary spike provided by Enca was invigorating for him.

Perhaps being frozen, encased in the cold and frigid ice would improve your taste.

The Dragon toyed with her from the darkness when she insisted she was not very flavorful. It seemed apparent that he would the act of stalking his prey or merely intimidating someone enjoyable. He'd revealed himself to Enca momentarily before concealing himself in the dark of the cavern again, clearly he was adept at moving in the shadows.

A snarl broke a momentary pause when Enca insinuated that his scales were not infallible, she may have struck a nerve as many legends can recount dragons were considered to have a prideful streak.

Even insects can sting their betters!

The Cavern seemed to shake as the Dragons voice bellowed outwards, resounding down several of the tunnels before his indignation seemed to simmer.

Let the Nordenfiir come. Soon I will bring down a great blizzard to cover all of Eretejva and sweep across to the Isle of Sheketh in the south and the Ixchel Wilds in the west.

Enca was not the only one who'd noticed the stinking small of char within the cavern causing the Dragon to shift his attention momentarily. In the cavern where his senses extended out beyond him, touching every facet of the place he called home there was little that could escape him or that he could not pinpoint. It helped that a dragons senses were enhanced, heightened compared to most other creatures as well.

When he turned his head back to regard Enca she could tell as the red of his eyes focused on her, glaring balefully in her direction.

You wish to know what will happen to the Nordenfiir as well as those who displease me? Here, let me show you!

Claws could be heard scraping across the stone of the cavern, a massive forelimb swept across the ground catching a multitude of bones that had be lain to rest their for countless years and throwing them at Enca. Then the Dragon roared, projecting his voice deeper into the cavern so that the others could hear it booming..

Show yourselves! Your stink has begun to offend me!

Aldenaxk Drazukel | Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

The orb of light filled the the large chamber, refracting off the ice creating beauteous dancing streams of occluded light. It also revealed many interconnected darkened cavern lanes, poking inward from the shinning green-blue cavern walls like swiss cheese. It made cauldwin keenly aware of the steaming, charred, bloodless corpses that surrounded the pair. It was just his luck he had ended up in the company of a blood magi, though considering his luck... nothing too surprising.

This did not cause him to stop in his task, the slitting of a wounded enemies throat to ensure they stayed dead was an old practiced ritual from his time on the many battlefields across the realm. There was no hesitation, there was no disgust, and he carried it out with the grace of a surgeon. He impaled the first of the three he had butchered though the neck with a sickening SHHHIIIFFT, before positioning himself over the next.

Not a spell sword. Blood mage, technically. Very illegal in a few places. Hope you don't mind, lawman." He chuckles, grinning slightly.

At this point the black miasma the seeped from the gaps in his plates had completely dissipated. He nodded, replying with a falsely-curious, "Mmmm.", though having never have met a *good* blood magi, he now trusted this tiefling significantly less.

"Honestly I'm just a wonderin merc.

A sentiment Cauldwin had heard many times before, perhaps a competent warrior, but he had no love for those who kill only for profit. Indeed, in his eyes, mercs were only marginally above throats-slitters, and occasionally he regarded them as vermin. Cauldwin then plunged his blade into the next of the creatures, one of the two he had disemboweled that now writhed, twitched, and moaned in agony on the floor. He looked up and into the eyes of the merc, granting him a good look at the tall, pale, lanky, scarred being before him. He then replied coldly, "Learn to champion something other than coin... a man who fights for nothin', dies for nothin'... I should know." He then repositioned himself over the third and final creature.

Anyways, I was sent here to find survivors of an expedition that came up here. Found them all dead as all fuck, their bodies had a few scents. First one I couldn't identify, but this place REEKS of it. The second is a vampire, definitely a vampire. It drank from the dead bodies before headin further up he mountain. Point is, there is a vampire on this mountain."

This information struck a nerve witch Cualdwin, as he plunged his blade through the creature's skull and into the ice beneath. The very reason he had fallen, why he had crawled his way from one hellscape to another, why he had to find a way to beat back death: he (the last of his line) had been dishonored. For what greater dishonor is there for a watchmen than to be labeled a criminal by their own order? How much more infuriating and hamulating to have to trust one's life to a vampiric Hedge (slang in the slums for hedge knight), only for them to betray it and sell said individual out and lead them to be incinerated... He was definitely projecting his deeper thoughts of retribution onto the vampire the blood magi was hunting.

Cauldwin brought up the arm of one of the creatures, a segment of thick white fur that had not been speared by viscera, excrement, or charred and cleaned off his blood soaked blade, running the flat down the extremity. He then stood up strait, and raised the blade in front of him, pointed towards the cavern ceiling that the barbed hilt and guard was just in front of his helm. The blade gleamed like celestial steel in the light, revealing the stark contrast of the blade's condition and that of his armor to the teifling, as well as the blade being as tall as the blood Magi. He then gave the blade a dexterous twirl before sheathing it.

He folded his damaged and still intact arm behind his back, before replying in a harsh, cold, empirical tone to his new companion, "Let us find this vampire." Before the blood magi could reply, a loud, deep, monstrous voice echoed throughout the caves...

Show yourselves! Your stink has begun to offend me!

The black miasma once again rose from the gaps in the rusted behemoths plate and mail. It was a voice Cualdwin took as a vampire, attempting in vain to intimidate him, to which he replied in a voice as loud and monstrous, "WITH PLEASURE, ABOMINATION!" As he charged ahead, in the direction of the seemingly unmistakable sound... with or without his new found companion in tow.

Aldenaxk Drazukel​

Ralzrydur​

Enca Boralaine​