The Great Ones The Great Ones Beneath

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Zachariah

The green flame hit him first. With a howl he went to one knee and the scaled armour began to shimmer.

Then came the spell fro the helmed man and the armour began to melt as though it had reached a boiling point. The human inside's howl became a scream of torture but still he struggled to raised his blade, to stand, to fight....

There only needed to be one more pool of magic and the three, all at once, might just do the impossible.
 
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Ashieron

Dragon Keeper Founder/“Leader”
Dragon Keepers
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Ash smiled as he felt the mother dragon touch his mind, “I will do anything try to protect your child, they will be safe with their own kin if I can save the egg.” He sends her the message and she seemed relieved as flowers and nature bloomed from her body.

Now to get things done and over with. The elf looks at all the others who were trying to get the egg and lifts his hand and cast three spells, speaking in old draconic spells that were powerful and devastating if not spoken correctly. His spellcasting was that of someone with hundreds of years with magic, as such he took no breath as he spoke the gutteral and deep language of the old dragons. There was no need for a break as he knew exactly what to say.

The first spell, Eorðe, lyft, fyr, wæter, hiersumaþ me was a spell that allows Ash to control the four elements. His first act was Causing a huge powerful gust of wind and hot molten lava with its gases to blow back those who tried to get the egg, except for him as he ran on the lava.

His second act would be to have the rocks form a sphere over the egg and to hold itself in place, without moving or yeilding to all but him as a huge gust of wind flew it into the air and away from all the others who tried to get it.

And finally, Dragorn. Non didlkai. Kari miss, epsipass imalla krat. Katostar abore ceriss. Katicur. Me ta sentende divoless. Kar… krisass, to the young dragon within the egg he will tell it that no matter what happens its mother loved it unconditionally. And one day if it choses either return to here or any other surface city and help people. Prove to them that dragons are not all bad creatures, just some of them and show them that their fears are somewhat misguided by tales of old days. That he would be waiting if it so desired to come meet him then it will be able to learn much of dragon history with its own kin.

(Ooc: Not gonna look up any more spells. Just use your old English and all that imagination you have to imagine the second one!)
 

Zathria At'Arel

Drow Commander
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Zathria couldn't believe her luck. Yet another person had shown up to try to take the egg from her.

From the corner of her eye she noted the changes to the dragon. The ground seemed to change as things... grew? And she noted a warmth that had nothing to do with the lava began to flow from the egg. It felt almost familiar in a way, and while Zathria had already not been planning to harm it, she somehow felt even less inclined to do the egg evil.

The nice moment was shattered, however, by the elf's insults.

Shut up, she said flatly as the elf tried to insult. She wasn't interested in hearing what the elf had to say, and she didn't waste any time either.

Zathria unleashed a blast of telekinetic energy that passed over the surface of the lava, intending to catch the elf before he cast his multiple spells and knock him from his levitation and into the lava. At least, if she was lucky, but luck hadn't been with her lately. But the best defense was a good offense. Hopefully it would take him out of the fight at least if it were successful and slow him regardless.

Rather than charge for the egg, Zathria fell back into a more defensive position. Her maneuver was simple and not very exciting or flashy, but the best path to liberating the egg was to remove the threat first. The distance should protect her from any offensive spells should her own attempt fail.
 
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Velathina glared through the haze, moving through the rubble toward the source of the warmth with a baleful look in her eye and blood soaking the scarf protecting her skin from the ash winds from her empty socket. The Drow was moving under her own power -though for how long was anyone's guess- and as he crested the rise she could see an elf standing on the egg and Zathria going on the attack. Leaping down with a shout, she struck out with the whip in hand, aiming to send the lash through the space occupied by the elf and interrupt his casting with a crack across his throat.

"Not so fast, you rat bastard!" She did not know that she was speaking Draconic but the words rumbled like a landslide from her mouth regardless, her eye glowing with a fel light and the hand she'd cut for the ritual burning at her side. "That egg is coming with us!"
 
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Lythrani Undraeth

Spymaster
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Around them, the dead churned from their violent sleep as they twisted and writhed while rivers of necrotic blood swept over them. They clawed at the nearest living creatures, lunging forth as disease riddled their flesh like victims of an ancient plague.

Amidst the chaos, as arrows and magic flew around her, Lythrani's gaze remained focused on the egg. It tumbled through the battlefield, blissfully unaware of the role it played as it was repeatedly taken and stolen again and again.

The sight of the elf was met with frustration, a deep sigh leaving the drow spymaster as he erased their hard work in an instant. Yet her gaze drifted towards Neha, watching as her blood suddenly turned the destruction beneath her to vibrant meadows. They created life rather than death, and if she were to hazard a guess, it would be due to the safety of her egg.

Interesting.

The idea of procuring an egg was an exciting one, yes, but now it seemed rather limited in ambition. Why settle for a mere unborn child, when you could secure the alliance of its own mother? Keeping the great dragon amiable was surely the best course of action when her anger had already been shown to bring about only more death and destruction to her people.

In moments, she was decided. Lythrani walked forward with a purpose, spectral daggers of light piercing any undead that neared both her and the egg, with Ashieron begrudgingly defended by association. Her pace quickened as the elf enacted his magics, pushing through the gusts of wind with her agility as she dismissed the dagger in her hand, hoping to signal that she meant no harm to him or the egg.

She leaped off a cliff edge, embedding an arrow into a pillar of jagged rock as she maneuvered over the chasm of lava that separated them. Jumping off, she rolled onto the ground and landed beside the rocky carapace that surrounded the egg.

Her gaze immediately went to Ash, saying, "I mean no harm, elf." A dagger apparated in her hands, only to pierce the nearest Turned. "The egg should be returned to its mother, lest we all suffer the consequences."
 
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Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

The Broken Sword
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Erën's sword met with Zackariah's with a crackle, and with the black knight's shove Erën did relent.

Stronger than the average human.

His sword slid across Zackariah's, and he stepped back to catch himself. Another step back, and a great leap up and back to avoid the pain of the lashing fire Zackariah summoned against them.

His feet touched down again as Zackariah was struck with fire from another direction, and assaulted by Lazule from behind. Lightning whirled around his sword, and he advanced, with both hands stabbing the sword out to impale.

 
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Z

Zachariah

A scream that rivalled the dragons and had orcs, humans, dragons and drow alike turning towards it was the last thing Zachariah did. His flesh, his armour, his sword shimmered one last time before turning to black liquid which bubbled and popped on the ash covered floor.
 
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Alccarion

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Alccarion felt the power of her little elf’s magic when he cast his spells. But the first thing she felt with the slight panic of when he was woken by the quake. Her little one always so curious and protective of her own kin, with little regard to others other them his own people. He was indeed a good friend and a loyal ally to her own cause. To bring dragons back as they once were but instead of feared, respected.

So she flew when she felt his surge of draconic magic, signaling to her something serious was going on, along with Ash’s messages to her through their soul bond. The one thing that was the reason the elf was still alive after dying so many times.

She approached the ruined city, first she saw Neha, the wounded mother’s sad song was able to be heard miles away. As a mother herself she understood her pains and her worries for her offspring. The anceint huge dragon would send to the yet bigger dragon a simple message,

“You are a mother also, as am I. My elf has healed you and I will assist him.” She tells her in a smooth and gentle voice. “We will try to protect your child from these greedy heathens.” There was anger in her voice then when she understood why Ash felt so disappointed in them.

All of them seemed to want the egg but did they know the work and the necessities of such a long commitment? She doubted it. It was then when she saw one try to attack one she viewed as one of her children she knew she was going to have to get involved.

The ancient mother swooped down to scoop up the egg, her large body and wings pushing everything down as the air flew around her. Into their heads she would yell in a loud and angry monsterous voice that is only capable of a mother’s anger did she warn them.

“YOU SHALL LEAVE THE EGG WITH ITS OWN KIN YOU PATHETIC HEATHENS!”
 
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Xunari Auceus

Runic Commander
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Xunari howled with laughter as her attack slammed into the metal-encased man, burning and melting him and his armour both. She had had to sacrifice her right arm to learn what could kill him but it had been worth it. Her pride had demanded that the man die and she had seen it done.

Approaching she grinned and kicked a rock onto the corpse and ashen remains of the man with another laugh.

She wanted to wave her right hand at him but all it did was wiggle her shoulder, now devoid of it's arm. Still, it caused her to giggle with a touch more mania than she intended initially.

"That's what you get!" she crowed happily, "You get what you fucking deserve for stepping up and declaring yourself the equal of the drow! You die like the pathetic scum that you are!"

Spotting the egg, Xunari was still a little bit high on her burning of the creature she hated the most on this slaughtering ground so she spotted the combat going on... and decided that if they were all busy then it might be possible to sneak up and snatch it up!

Neha
 
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The song was gone.

In place of the heavy drums there was only a resounding silence made all the worse for the sudden lack of such a loud sound. He turned so quickly he could have sworn he felt the whiplash as the Dragon that had been a god made flesh was undone.

By what?

By whom?

... it didn't fucking matter.

Alexios roared in frustration and wounded pride more than anything as he stared at the unmoving dragon as if it had personally betrayed him. He had bowed to it's will, danced to it's song, because he had been convinced that it was beyond him. That it was a God and that bowing to a God was not something to be ashamed of.

But it had never been a God - it had only ever been some old, over-grown, lizard. It didn't matter what had ended it but the fact that it had been ended meant he had bowed to something so much lesser than he had believed it to be.

And Elbion was literally fracturing apart.

Growling in anger and fatigue, he made a dash for it. Running as quickly as he could and using explosive bursts of his flames to extend his jumps between the floating series of islands.

Fuck this shit - he was out of here.
 
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Alak Rasivrein

Battle Mage
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Alak was a man who was perfectly at home in the scummiest places. He'd served on a pirate ship, fought in the Drow army, escaped his people, and generally caused a lot of havoc in this time on the surface.

He hadn't, however, been planning to see the city in which he'd been performing his most recent crimes laid waste to by a massive dragon. No one cared anymore that there was a dark elf in the city, all they wanted to do was get away from the fire.

Although Alak recognized the danger in being here after his untimely exit, part of the reason he'd come was to find a way back in that would leave him in a better position than when he'd left.

Suffice it to say, there was shock when he saw the Drow forces above the surface. With the realization that they were pursuing something related to the dragon, Alak leapt into action.

The gem on his chest glowed faintly as he drew on its energy, reaching out to grip the egg as yet another dragon (Alccarion) descended to attempt to steal it away. It had become quite the... hot commodity... in the lava.

Nevertheless, Alak drew on the sacrifices held within the stone to power his magic and began to pull the egg toward himself and hopefully free of the attempts of anyone else. He couldn't help but think that with so many pursuing the egg, it might simply shatter under the pressure. That would be unfortunate.
 
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Sepheron

The Gatekeeper
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Sepheron's sole focus was causing as much damage as he could while he was still on her as the flames continued to reap whatever destruction he could. But Neha turned and twisted and as the arrows and other weaponry collided into her and him. Some of them went into his scales but didn't pierce completely and with his wings tucked, they were protected enough from it. Instead of continuing the twisting, however, she went straight towards the city with her back aimed towards it.

The dragon unlatched his quicks and pushed off as quickly as he could with the flap of his wings. But with her massive size and the air force it generated, it pulled down as well and his massive body crashed into the city below. It was destroyed but carcasses of the buildings would stand and his body would slam into one before sliding through another, debris and thick clouds of soot and dust flying everywhere.

After a few seconds, he eventually stood up and shook his body of the remaining debris that collected as his tail swiped left and right and destroyed more of the house. His head snapped to Neha and his eyes dilated, his mouth opening slowly as he ready to pounce on her once more but that's when he saw it. Another dragon and heading for the egg.

Sepheron thought about Neha for a split second before he eventually flapped his wings and took off into the air and after the new dragon. When he started to gain altitude and get closer to the other of his kind, he let out a roar that pierced through the air easily as his gravelly voice would echo in her mind, Then you shall give the egg to me.

The dragon was high in the air as he looked down at all who were attempting to go for the egg. When he saw where it was the new dragon that announced it's arrival, Alccarion, Sepheron swooped down and was aimed towards the egg, his massive shadow casted on the ground and swallowing the drow beneath him.
 
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Lazule

The First Slayer
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Erën delivered the killing blow to Zachariah. The scream washed over Lazule, and he felt nothing save the cold satisfaction of the fulfillment of one small portion of his duty, his purpose, his commitment to the slain innocents of Bhathairk. Their just recompense would be coming. They will not have died without so much as an attempt at retribution. Lena demanded it. Father demanded it. Caliane demanded it.

Lazule gave a firm nod to Erën. Saw even the emergence of an elf, a peculiar one with gray skin the like of which was foreign to him and who was missing an arm, come forth from the wreckage of the Gates and kick at the remains of Zachariah. Surprised, but mostly in agreement with the dark elf's sentiment, Lazule gave a firm nod to Xunari as well.

Then he turned to face his true Foe. The Black Dragon. There across the vast span of the destroyed city, fallen from the sky as the Golden Dragon attacked It, as the cruel so often cannibalized the cruel as well. There between the Black Dragon and Lazule the sheer breadth of destruction that was Bhathairk, the immeasurable accounting of the Dragon's sins, the manifest cause behind the reckoning that would be delivered. Green fire raged and the ruins were as primeval as the most volcanic of newly formed land and the very earth itself had been torn and sundered and the upon those streets where countless scores of fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters once lived there was naught but blood and ash.

There was no cause more righteous than this. First the Black Dragon. Then the Golden. Then the newly arrived Purple.

Lazule stretched out his right arm and his Lance of Light dissipated. Necessary. He could only cast Javelins with his right hand. He saw as well in those devastated ruins of the city the ravenous horde of undead swarming like a living plague, moving among the ruins of homes and the shops which had been the lifeblood of the thriving orcish stronghold.

He had time. Time before a splinter group from this horde, having seen him and now rushing toward the Gates, came into contact with him. Time to engage his true Foe.

Lazule lifted his right hand. A Javelin of Light manifested in it, crackling with potent magical from the wealth of light from which to draw.

"Blessed are they who give of themselves in service to others."

He launched the Javelin. The spell streaking and whistling across the length of the city and toward the fallen Neha.

"Blessed are they who bloody their hands such that those of the innocent stay so."

He conjured another Javelin. Threw it. Conjured another.

"Blessed are they whose radiant humanity shines to banish the dark."

And threw it as well at the Black Dragon.

The undead were almost upon him. And Lazule manifested again his Shield of Light and Lance of Light and the organs within his body shriveled from the rising internal heat. Soon his blood would boil and said organs would burst.

"Blessed are they who do not fear death. Blessed are they who welcome it, who give of themselves to spare even one life of those innocent the predations of those wicked."

Lazule gave a small, sideways glance to Erën, and then met the charge of the hundred undead--cruelly slain and cruelly turned--and slashed into them with gigantic sweeps of his Lance that cleaved bodies in half and slammed into them with crushing bashes from his Shield that caved in skulls and this as they immediately surrounded him and assaulted his armor with their twisted hands and gnashing teeth.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Neha Xunari Auceus
 

Quiggy

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Quiggy loved battles, so many dead bodies to steal, so many dead people to speak with. She loved speaking to the recently deceased and using their own knowledge to steal their corpses. It wasn't her fault they had decided to go to war. Shouldn't have died if they didn't want to get killed.

Some would have said this was worse then usual, higher stakes, more risk of getting killed, but the rewards were higher as well. She was already way richer than she had been at the beginning of the day, many coins and shiny trinkets to be claimed from the fallen. But then her eyes were drawn to the egg floating over the bed of magma, and every other thought was pushed out of her head. She wanted it, it called to her. Her mouth started watering at just the thought of the amount of bread she could buy by selling that thing. Or the delicious omelette it would make. Both thoughts were equally enticing, and she couldn't make her mind about what she could do. But that was a thought for later, a decision to make if she got her hands on it. Right now she had to get it.

"Up, up," she said as she scampered to a stop behind a rocky outcrop that offered some cover and knelt besides a fallen figure, "up you get my dead friend." Using the dead body as material, and feeding her own lifeforce into the spell to give it strength, she summoned a spirit that had fallen here not too long ago, seeking a big one. The corporeal form of an orc soon rose out of the ground before her. "The egg, go get it, grab it and run." She gave it directions through the telepathic link they shared, to let it know where she would meet him if he successfully grabbed the egg. And with that it was off, gliding towards the egg, her own lifeforce feeding it to give it the strength to have an impact on the physical realm.

She was putting her life on the line, all for an omelette and some toast.​
 

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

The Broken Sword
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His sword plunged deep, splitting broken metal and sliding through wounded flesh - and the horrid cries of doom were a melody on his ears. A wry smile crept across his face, and he tore his sword free as Zackariah collapsed into nothing. He whirled the sword in his hand as he took a step back, and observed as their unknown third appeared and delivered a final farewell to their now fallen foe.

He frowned all the while.

Soon his thoughts and eyes soon strayed to the fires of Bhathairk, and he beheld them. Green and orange and red coloured the horizon, and blackness above and below. The earth was split, and the glow of hellfire shone up from the depth of the inflicted scars.

Devastation. Utter devastation.

And there was sorrow in his heart, and the pain of his flesh was buried beneath it. To bear witness to such death, such failure. It diminished whatever suffering he now felt for himself.

A streak of light:
Lazule's doing.

He watched it go, spinning toward its mark - the dragons.

The stirring within became apparent, and he looked to see the numbers of Turned collecting and spilling into the main street beyond the ruined gate, moving nearer to them.

Another streak of light.

He drew up his sword, hilt held by his head with both hands, the tip tilted down just some. And a weak crackle traveled down it.

And then a third streak of light,

and the monsters were nearly upon them. His eyes met Lazule's visor, and an affirmative nod met the Slayer's glance.

Then, they moved.

Lazule struck out first, forcing himself into the thrall with great cleaves of his lance and bashes with his shield. Erën followed suite, drawing his sword across one way and stepping forth.

That blue light once again took shape around him, faintly at first.

Another step forward, and another swing. And more charge found him.

And then he turned the sword in his hand, swung it up behind his back and the grasping once more with both hands he swung it down toward the ground, and from the sky a great bolt appeared, descending upon him with thunder carried behind. It struck him, and funneled through him and through the sword, and upon touching the ground it sprang forth with a great flash.

The lightning shot forward, and tore the ground apart in its path, carving a great line about two meters wide through the number of the infected dead. Many were destroyed, but there were far many more who seamlessly filled the gap and pushed on against him. But he resisted them, and with the aid of Lazule, held them at bay.

For now.

Lazule
| Neha | Xunari Auceus

 
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Caliane Ruinë

Angel Nuke
Staff
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360
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"Go, go, go!"

Caliane stood before the river of lava which had threatened to drown and turn to cinder a trapped population of the city of Bhatharik. Her hands were raised and the flaming hot mess stopped before her though it pushed and tested the forces of her magic. The Avariel's foot slid back slightly. Sweat trickled down her face from the heat of it and her wings blazed a brilliant white that kept the ash from touching her skin. Something about it the Soulfire didn't like and every now and then a small bolt of the White Fire would incinerate a cloud of it when it drew near.

People wept and prayed as they ran behind her heading for the gate which had been close to becoming sealed off. If the Angel of Bhatharik had not been passing when attempting to fly others from the city she would not have seen it, would not have got there in time. Even so she was struggling to hold back the tide.

They are all gone.

The Soulfire hissed and Caliane nodded the merest of fractions. Her eyes turned towards Lazule and Erën fighting nearby and the oncoming wave of the dead. Gritting her teeth she spun. The river came with her and instead of locking them in to the city she diverted its course towards the army of the dead.
 
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Neha

As Sepheron left her to go after her egg Neha rolled to her feet in an attempt to go after him also. Despite the other female dragons assurances, the black dragon would only really feel secure in the knowledge her child was safe when it was in her possession. Getting her three legs under her she prepared to take flight after the two dragons wrestling in the air. Until a javelin of light hit her again. A snarl came from her throat and she turned her head for another to hit her directly in her left eye.

The screech of rage sent tremors over the city and far beyond. She would have to... trust these others to protect the most precious thing in the world to her whilst she eliminated the rest. A pulse rippled across the city and the Dead suddenly turned with purpose...

* * *
They crawled over one another to get to Lazule, Eren'thiel Xyrdithas and the Commander of the Drow Vyx'aria. There was no sense to what they did just that their Mistress commanded that they attack the points of the greatest threat to them and Neha. Some were faster, others slowed by severed limbs hacked away by frightened civilians or other warriors, but whatever their state they ran, crawled, slithered on bellies that trailed blood behind them, towards the three.

The first wave didn't see the lava river approaching and suddenly five lines deep of the horrendous creatures were washed away by Caliane Ruinë. The rest haltered as the lava separated them from their targets. Minds whirled, thinking. Then slowly they walked in and submerged themselves. Others crawled on top of them and soon a mangled misshapen bridge of bodies was created for the rest to pass over.

And they came as a swarm of angry hornets.

* * *
The fight for the egg continued.

Zathria At'Arel's spell went almost laughably wrong. Instead of hitting the lightning quick elf who ran on the lava as if it were a bed of flowers missed and instead went careening into Xunari Auceus, who had thought to try and take the egg for themselves whilst no-one else was watching, and Lythrani Undraeth. The full force of Zathria's spell would hit them both squarely and as forcefully as if the attack had been meant for them from the offset.

The creature from within the egg gave a happy little preen as Ash's voice touched it. It recognised the language and the words and a warmth spread from its centre. Suddenly the rocks that were around it, created by Ash's spell, spread and a path was formed across this section of the lava river. In the middle it sat in a plump nest of grass and wild yellow daisies.

At least, it did for a brief, fleeting moment.

Alccarion snatched the egg up and carried it off into the skies. There was jubilation from the young hatchling inside. To fly! To fly! It's joy fell over the people whom they flew. It had only ever sensed what it was like to fly from its mothers dreams but now it was experiencing it itself. But as Sepheron smashed into the side of the great hulking dragon, her claws slipped and the egg began to plummet towards the ground once more.

It would have surely smashed open if it hadn't been for Velathina T'sarran. The magic eased the eggs decent to a slow and steady fall. It passed by Quiggy's orc spirit and as it did the odd magic the egg possessed caused the wraith to vanish, repelled by whatever magic it possessed. Even the undead over whose heads the egg passed screeched and fled from whatever it felt came from within.

The egg stopped and suddenly dropped the rest of the way into Velathina's arms where it preened again.

It had had an awfully fun time with all of its new friends.
 

Alccarion

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Alccarion blasts her fire/lighting breath at Seph who bumped into her, “You attack its mother you baboon, you have no right.” She hisses as she dives down and attempted to scoop up both the egg and the bloody dark elf in her talon, aiming to pierce it with them.

Ash chuckles, “Well dark elf, if you are so good as to let the egg be with its own kin and ilk then we can work together.” He tells the elf that was once next to the egg. “Fucking greedy enough as it is to not assist an ailing and worried mother these heathens. No humanity in the lot, but if we do manage to get the egg we will return it to its mother as the ways things should be” He would tell the elf with a pleased smile,

“You atleast brought back a glimmer of hope for me in the centuries I have lived.”

Raising his hand again his eyes will glow and his hands would touch the lava. The earth and ground around him would shake with one of the most powerful earthquakes there was. The ground split from under others within miles around as the elf used his draconic magic in sickening cracks, even more sickining as the undead were left undisturbed, just those who wanted the egg had to deal with his magics. he would yet again use a more powerful healing spell on Neha. As the earth cracked spikes of stone and earth shot through the earth aiming to impaile those who took a single step.

Now that his life bond was here he more powerful spells.

Then the dragon keeper chants something in the old draconic language as if he was sending a message to a nearby patrol. He tells her with a bit of relief. “Soon more of us will be here, as a patrol always patrols the Spine and its area for black marketed eggs and hatchlings, my dragons and keepers will save this egg no matter what as is the promises and oathwe have made. We hope you do the same for the egg.”

The elf would levatate and go to yank the egg while the powerful earthquake was stil going on, tumbling the building with the guards on it and allowing mother Neha more room to do as she pleased.

In the distance more roars of dragons could be heard with people’s voice booming draconic.

In a few seconds air dragons would arrive, their wings and magical air magic allowing themto fly incredibly fast.

Each of them had a keeper on its back, no sattle needed as they each had trust in themselves and their partners.

“My lady.” The Keepers would bow to Neha as they passed in draconic.

After another few seconds three keepers jumped out of their respective dragon’s backs and each jumped to attack.

One would attack Zathria At'Arel, using her hands as her main weapon with ice coming from them in the form of a huge claw. She would try to cut into the elf’s torso anf to get in her way.

Another attacked Velathina T'sarran, his chained blades with holy light magic spun around him as he tried to drive them across the elf’s back.

Finally for the third humanoid was a elf, his weapon of choice was arrows so he stayed on his dragon as he snipped at Sepheron as one of the air dragons attack the gold dragon as well.

Two hung back waiting to see who gets the egg, they would intercept them if they were not their allies.
 
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Lazule

The First Slayer
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Those good. Those innocent. Turned by the wicked into those likewise wicked. It did not matter that they were previously slain. An insight whose truth was indisputable: there was no more evil an act than this, the propagation of further evil through coercion of the innocent into such baleful service. Calling upon them necessary violence. The hands of the righteous turned on those who once were.

They would find their blessed rest. And they would be given their just recompense.

The infernal screech from the Black Dragon tore through the city and shook the ground once more. And the Dead became more ravenous, more driven, more guided in their efforts. Lazule could hardly even see the river of lava that swamped a sizable portion of the wave--only the tangle of wild bodies and flailing limbs from those Dead already on his side of the diverted lava river, risen orcs and humans and elves and dwarves leaping at him and clawing at him and biting at him and striking at him and climbing on his armor. Erën had as well cut a swath through the Dead with his lightning, the sharp report of which Lazule heard but the effectiveness of which went likewise unseen.

Lazule struggled mightily against the horde of the Dead swarming him. Through several at a time he cleaved with his Lance of Light, the intensely sharp magical edge slicing through their Ash and Blood ravaged bodies and the heat of the Lance's magic leaving trails of steam and crackling embers in those chasmic wounds and upon severed limbs and halved torsos. And with each touch of the Lance against a foe, each time the magic worked to slice, the Life Fire of Lazule inside of the Unknown Warrior's body--this body further encased by the suit of armor--heated up more.

A wide slash. And Lazule's blood was boiling.

A return slash. And steam vented out through the broken sections of armor on Lazule's back, as if underneath there was an inferno threatening to consume all that lie within.

And it was then that Lazule fell. Toppled over by the remaining force of the Dead assailing him and the growing weakness of the body he inhabited and its cascading failures as he pushed his Luminomancy too far. His Shield of Light and Lance of Light dissipated once his back hit the ground. And a mound of the Dead covered him, like sharks driven to a feeding frenzy by the alluring tinge of blood in the sea.

There was nothing but the Dead upon him. Lazule unseen under that great writhing and wailing mass.

Then something shot out. Tore through a body of the Dead. A small thing, akin to Lazule's Javelins but miniscule. Then another. Another. Small streaks of Light. Each making a crisp snapping noise after they ripped free of the pile of the Dead and flew high into the sky and dissipated some great distance above. More and more of these luminous streaks--Lazule's Needles of Light--tore through and shredded the Dead upon him, the direction at which they flew free of the corporeal pile changing as Lazule underneath could move his hands more and aim them in different directions and unleash the barrage into new targets. Blood and bits of gore sprayed from the penetrating wounds of the Needles, and one by one the Risen Dead fell from the pile as holes were blasted through them and they became inert.

At last, one of Lazule's armored arms emerged from the pile of Risen Dead that had now been turned into a pile of still corpses. He shoved a few bodies off of his person, freeing himself from their smothering, and he was revealed.

He lay flat on the ground. His armor was drenched in blood and viscera. Billowing steam flowed like ash from an erupting volcano out from the joints in his armor, through the joints in his fingers. This steam also issuing from his neck, his face, his head, for in the chaos and savage swarming of his person his helm had been torn off.



(My "Paladin" by DancinFox.)

The skin of his face. Red and blistered, tortured through overuse of Luminomancy. Lazule's arms rested flat on the ground as well. His legs. His body had reached near complete failure. His internal heat was too great, even for the state of quasi-undeath it endured.

"Erën," he called out, his voice no longer with that metallic reverberation from the helm. And he had but one thing on his mind.

"Finish the fight."

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Neha Caliane Ruinë Vyx'aria Xunari Auceus
 

Vyx'aria

Drow Queen
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144
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Vyx was entirely out of her element, and she was rooted in place. The elf had always prided herself in combating fears. Drow always persevered above the worst threats. Nothing, however, had prepared her for this. For a moment, the broken blade in her hand tilted down and grew slack in her hand.

What could man do against such reckless hate?

She saw dead drow, orcs, humans. Though she wasn’t one to grow sentimental, the sheer scale of death and decay was almost beyond comprehension. The fires raged and whirled around them all, thick smoke pluming and splitting up her units in multiple little pockets.

Vyx could vaguely hear some other drow screaming at her for her orders. Time was slow, and she could see blurs of motions before her. She could make out the monster hunters and their relentless efforts against the dragon. She could see the champion of the dragon withering and melting away.

As the droves of bodies came towards her, as she began to see the new dragons come in, and as she saw her people dying, she began to feel rage course through her veins. Her jaw tightened, angered especially at the newcomers that would dare make things worse than they already were.

Vyx had led her life believing that she hadn’t been granted the gift of magic. That was until that fateful day when she had snuck into Vel Anir and had come across the dreadlord Vale. He had unlocked within her powers that had been dormant since she was born.

It only came out when she was pushed to extremes. The deaths of her people, the collapse of their homes, the searing heat and the bloodlust of battle all sent her into a fury.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” With a shriek, she spun the broken blade in her hand and slammed it down into the ground. This resulted in a massive shockwave that would send the risen toppling backwards into the pools of lava. It would also throw them away from Lazule and Eren.

Vyx didn’t pause there, walking over to kneel down before the black ooze that spilled from Zachariah’s remains. She pressed her broken blade into it, tapping deep within herself to call upon the darkest and more innate magic of her people. Her hand traced up from the jagged end of the blade, sliding up as a jet black blade formed from the edge to complete the blade. The blade was forged from not only the essence of Zachariah, but also the magic and green fire that killed him.

She rose to stand then, turning to her mages, giving the silent command for them to tend to Lazule. The mages got to work at once, circling around Lazule to pool the heat away and rapidly heal him.

“No time to rest,” Vyx said quietly to the man. The drow mages had cleared the rising smoke and inferno, giving clear perspective into the other dragons and their allies that had arrived, “We have work to do,” Vyx reached down and hoisted Lazule up by the arm and to his feet. Vyx put on Zachariah's helmet then.

“For Bhathairk

With that, Vyx charged towards the risen, her new blade slicing through them like a hot knife through butter. She was a whirlwind of movements, clearing the path and keeping the bodies off the monster hunters to let them focus on the dragons.

Lazule Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Neha
 

Zathria At'Arel

Drow Commander
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74
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Zathria's attack had been a total failure, and she was sure she'd hear about it later, but she wouldn't have been sad to find out that no one had noticed it was her that was the source of the attack against her fellow Drow.

Even if they did, she wasn't going to slow down or stop now.

With a blade still gripped in one of her hands, she steeled herself as more dragons and riders came in. Defenders of the genocidal dragon. She didn't waver because she knew that nothing would be so easy for the keepers.

Most of the Drow's officers were here, and as such, many of the Drow had flocked to their leaders. Blood mages intercepted the attack against Zathria long before it ever arrived, tossing up a solid wall of dirt to block off the path of the ice.

Zathria wasn't going to continue fighting with these lunatics, though. There was still half a city that was burning and she could hear people yelling for help in the rubble. Rather than continue the fighting, she decided to turn aid toward another potential ally.

She lifted off beams and obstructions, pulling an orc woman and her child from the rubble.

Come on! Get out of there! she shouted, spinning quickly and bringing her sword chopping down on one of the approaching, dragonrot infested person.

We don't have time to wait or grab things! she said, urging them onward and out of the fighting area and the destruction.
 

Kara Orin

Staff
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621
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The black ooze that flew toward Aramekh and Medja drew Kara’s attention from Drakormir and the city of Elbion. The sound from the ooze impacting a stone wall prompted Kara to cover her ears. She watched the slime and eyes and rock fall as Aramekh flew on.

But then Kara felt a magical ripple in the air. Her wide eyes returned to the city. She saw Drakormir’s form cease to move. Her eyes looked up to see where in the sky the moons sat.

Dread filled her heart. It showed on her face.

Kara turned her gaze back to the see to see it torn apart. The entire College rose in the sky. Gravity ceased to work on chunks of the city. The College seemed to rise just about as high as the mountain summit next to it before it finally stopped. It remained suspended in the air by some magical effect. The other broken islands of Elbion did the same thing – rising until they stopped, and then they remained floating in place midair as if tied to strings from the cosmos above.

The words Zarko yelled failed to reach Kara.

Her eyes watched Drakormir sink into the hole that used to be Elbion’s foundations. Some fell in the hole with the dragon – very few, like Milo Vox, did so voluntarily. The purple miasma seeping into the air from the hole would kill those that continued to fall with the dragon. And it that was not enough, the pain of dirt, mud, and water falling from above to fill the new void would crush mortals that failed to climb back to the surface.

From where Milo stood, there were still opportunities to escape. Some buildings failed to stand on a floating island and thus slowly sunk into the hole. Some turned over far enough on their side for someone to run on the wall – back to the surface and potential safety from a death by toxic air or being buried alive.

Drakormir Himself did not act to escape the hole. In time, He would be buried once more by water and mud and dirt and clay with only His back exposed. While the song ended and Alexios Marxan lost his faith, if that faith were to return then he could still say the same words as before to produce the blue flames he created. He and Medja would have to learn other divine spells elsewhere, though.

Meanwhile still on Aramekh, Kara could hear screams of confused and terrorized citizens pierce through the air. She saw in the distance some of the flesh-twisted monsters attacking people. Her eyes continued to scan the rising ground – searching with a growing anger that could be seen in them.
 
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Velathina smiled at the egg as it settled into her arms, the joyful little life inside reaching out and enveloping her in a sense of playfungratitude that eased the pain in her weary limbs and made the usually stoic sorceress giggle in return. She stood in the eye of the storm, chaos whirling all around them though the elf and the egg were untouched by it, a pulse of magic rippling out from where they stood as time seemed to stop.

"I know you, little one... Worry not. I will bring you to safety."

She knelt and carefully set the egg down and looked up at the approaching Dragonkeepers. She drew the ritual dagger from her chest harness and raised her left hand before making a cut across the palm and calling on the power of the mingled blood now flowing in her veins - of the Darkness in the Underrealm and Draconic Fury. She spoke with words in a tongue she had never learned, the guttural tones piercing the cacophony surrounding them and reverberating in the minds of those nearby and through the shattered earth surrounding them. Stone and Neha's molten blood surged up and over Vel and the egg, forming a protective shell around them that kept them safe from attacking knights or swooping dragons. The blood pooled around Vel's feet and the egg, uncomfortably hot against her skin and pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

The power she had channeled when she sacrificed her eye and mingled her blood with that of the Black Dragon had not been spent by the rending attack that had cleaved the leg from her great body and triggered the tidal wave of undead. It had flowed inward, the link between blood and host she'd used to target Neha going both ways. Her left arm -burned- agony layered over a phantom sensation of loss despite the arm still being attached. Her left eye was shut against the sudden pain of being stabbed by something not there. She could feel the blood pooling around her, the blood burning in the dragon plagued, the blood within the raging titan at the Gate... and the blood within the egg, pulsing through the young dragon within.

They were all bound by a bond of blood.

She forced her eye open and turned in the direction of the gate, ignoring the muffled pounding on the barrier surrounding her and the Egg as she mentally grabbed hold of one of the threads and cast her consciousness down the line, her body falling like a puppet with cut strings as she once again threw her will against the might of a living Goddess.

'Neha... I have your egg. Let's strike a bargain.'
 

Zier Xya Zythos

Let's Be Honest, My Title Is Dumbass.
Monster Hunters
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111
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With no answer from either of these fuckers, he placed his hand on the shield, wondering how he'd get thing out of here. He slid his hand down the face of it, pressing onto it just to make sure it's as heavy as it looks, and it is. Magic just loves defying physics but it can't make this any lighter, huh? It probably can, but he doesn't know any magic for that.

Then the ground started to shake-- again. It felt worse than last time. He grabbed onto a shelf, trying to keep himself from falling, only to take the shelf of artifacts down with him. Then, they started to spark, some floating and others doing weird shit he can't explain. Nope. nah. Fuck this shit. He's not about to be crushed when the Collage comes down, cause the intensity of this quake feels like it will. He doesn't know about Sitim and the archivist, but he's going to leave because the artifacts start exploding or some shit. He stood up, taking a few unsteady steps out the room. As he went through the corridor, the shaking easied a little. It felt like... the Collage was moving? He made his way to the entrance, opening the door and-- "WHAT THE SHIT!"

Floating? Why the hell is the whole building floating! He slowly looking down, and to his horror, other buildings were floating as well. Purple... he doesn't even know what!

The dragon seems to be having 99999999 MS Ping in the distance right now, so he isn't worried about that for the moment. The real question is, how the fuck is he going to get down??? Pyromancer is an option, but he could slip up and fall into that purple shit like the dumbass he is. I wonder if Arawons okay-
 
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Sepheron

The Gatekeeper
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10
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Sepheron collided with Alccarion and made the dragon drop the egg from its claws and drop to the ground. It would have been smashed but thankfully one of the creatures that was also after the egg caught it before my chaos ensued. The purple dragon fired a combination of both fire and lightning and the golden dragon angled his body so that it hit him but not a direct hit as it singed across his spine. And you are a slave to her mother. You will not make another one of our kind follow that path.

Alccarion then dove for the egg but Sepheron didn't let up and immediately gave chase. While she focused on trying to grab the egg and the elf, the golden drag slammed his hooks right into her side, and if they connected he would pull himself on top of her back and also sink the talons of his hind legs into her. With them comparable in size, he would put his entire weight on her to prevent her from lifting up and flying off until she would crash into the ground with him on top of her. Her attempt to collect the egg and pierce the drow would be cut off by Sepheron attacking her once more.

If they crashed into the ground, anyone near their landing would be thrown off their feet from the combination of their weight. When the dust and rock settled, Sepheron would still be on top of Alccarion with his hooks and talons latched onto her to keep her pinned underneath him.

The golden dragon would direct his gaze toward Ash, Alccarion's rider before back down to her as his stomach would start to illuminate from the inferno that was igniting within him. Stay out of my way.
 
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