The Great Ones The Great Ones Beneath

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

He felt the grip on his shoulder. The hand that had been on his shoulder so many times before.

Gerra of Molthal. Now God-Emperor of the West of the World.

Hear that? He waited. Wondering if I'd ever return.

The broken man lifted his stone replacement for an arm, and lifted Gerra's hand off his shoulder. He turned to face him, his burnt eyes peering through the holes in the mask he had been bestowed.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this would be their last conversation. What would he say? What could he possibly say that hadn't been said or done already. What words would make the last few years of Sparhawk's pitiful existence mean anything to this man? The man who'd used him as a tool for war. The man who'd been his friend. The man who crippled him. The man who broke his spirit. The Emperor who was soon to have Arethil under his thumb.

He stood up, seeing the emotion welling up in Gerra. The last embers of his old life began to smoulder in Sparhawk's eyes.. The life he'd thrown away.

I have nothing. No one. I can't touch. I can't feel. I'm in constant, ceaseless agony. Everyone i've ever loved is dead. I've killed. and killed. and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed.
All for the mighty Gerra. Why didn't you leave me to die in that barn? Why couldn't you let me die?

"I've come to kill. I'm not here for you."

Sparhawk...

"Don't ever call me that again." He gave Gerra a cold, stare. His tone, a threat.

He sat back down, looking at the water.

 

[Ashuanar]

He drew in a deep breath.

And the riverbed churned beneath them as the barges dug in. Large and heavy as they were there was no sudden stop, instead just a gentle slowing until finally coming to rest.

Water washed against the bank, and for a moment he and his all waited quietly, and listened in peace. And then, when all had finally come to rest did those aboard move - as one. And in short order upon dry land was the calvary assembled.

Ashuanar drew near to Gerra as the final men fell into place.

"By your command, my Lord."

Gerra​

 

[Kthell]

When the strange looking.. child-thing bounded towards Kthell, she stopped and planted her backside into the ground. She sat straight, ears perked, with her tail wrapped around herself leisurely. The aura around her remained as a protective barrier and she made no move to lower it; however, she found the inquisitive nature of the creature endearing and mimicked its head tilts playfully. Kthell had a soft spot for the younger things in the world.​

The shade called for the creature and, when it received no reply, it approached. Her attention shifted to it and Kthell felt.. something. Not fear. Anticipation filled her chest once again, and she fought to keep her voice level when it, perhaps he?, spoke to her.​

Kin.​

The word blossomed in her mind.​

He clearly noticed something different about her. Although he was an unknown creature, she could not sense the same 'kinship' when she returned his gaze. Kthell felt a spark of anger swell briefly, pointed towards her former captors. Perhaps they took that ability from her too.​

“No need to apologize for the child,” she replied. It was a sweet, honeyed tone with a light echo. It was also very steady despite the flurry of emotions within her. An excellent performer.​

“Kouri.” She bowed her head towards the child. “And Tenrof.” Another bow.​

​

“I am Kthell. I expected to find others out here in the sands, but.. a different kind.”​

A pause.​

“You say kin so surely. Why?”​

Tenrof

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

"Come on... I know this situation is heating up", An awful pun he delivered while trying to mollify some of the students within the College courtyard. "But we're gonna have to cool off." And an equally as bad finish.

The two people he was talking to got up and retreated from his jokes.
​

He doesn't know what's going on, but he's terrified along with them. The ground tremors were powerful and Zier came to the conclusion that this was a volcanic eruption of sorts. A large plume of smoke billowing up in the distance, followed by this intense, seismic activity? His magic involves magma; how can he not assume an eruption.

Still, this doesn't ease his mind at all. His default response is to joke around and try to sooth others, but it's becoming difficult with each worried expression he sees.

"H- how about this? It's nothing to write home about but," He proceeded to conjure two, small balls of flame in his hands. They glow brighter as the occasional lick of flames release from it. A soothing warmth radiated off them, caressing the skin of the few students that were near and pacifying their troubled minds, even for a second. "Anddddd the fun part!"

He tossed both of them into the air and they exploded in a barley audible poof noise, as if something was just set ablaze. They exploded in several, tiny embers, spreading out around the people close to him. Some of the embers separated into tinier embers before dying. They provided the same comforting warmth as before.

He kept this up for a bit, dancing while using this time to entertain them and test the constructs he can make with pyromancy. Flaming flowers are his specialty. Some of the smiles on their faces proved that he was able to assuage their worries, and that was enough to calm his.

 

[Tenrof]

"Kin..."

The word was foreign to his tongue. But even then, how else would he describe the sensation? Stroking Kouri, watching it preen and squeak at the ministration, Tenrof chose his words carefully. Moreso than the last, for it could very well spark division. And he was in no mood for conflict, cold logical conscious aside.

"Kin, for how else would I know the touch of cosmic? None I have met that carries such a mark, until you."

To demonstrate, his hat fluttered briefly in the hot wind, and the feline, Kthell, would see a warped scar, a twisted eclipse that was the entity's right eye. Only a glimpse she saw, an instant he gave, but the otherworldy aura he exuded was enough to cement one fact.

He was not of this world. And the World knew thus. It was only because of the talisman he carried that he was not expelled immediately from the reality, thanks to the enchantments carved inch by painstaking inch into the alien metal. It did not stop his shudders, the whimpers of Kouri as it too felt the World recoil at the shift of its parent's presence, if only momentarily.

Then it was gone, what was once a stifling pressure, leaving only the ash-choked air and the rumbling of earth. But the burdens of such exposure still remained, Tenrof's left eye flickering in brightness.

Kouri could not notice this, as it was too young to be of any help, let alone be aware of the folds beneath the physical and spiritual. Instead it could only whimper, a voice to sound the Shadow's own silent suffering. But soon the whimpers grew silent, the spirit rising to its hind two feet, like how its parent did, and lifted the Shadow's head upwards. A means to show strength, to persevere.

Another trait to aid its journey, noted Tenrof, as he regained full function of his logistics and mental acumen. Already portions of Kouri's potential were made manifest, a determination not common in those so young.

Back to the conversation at hand. He would rectify a certain assumption he presumed she would anticipate.

"Origins, we do not share, Kthell. Mine is singular and fixed. Never before nor after. I wonder what yours is however, for myself to take notice?"

He remained kneeling, Kouri deciding to use him as a roost once more, perched atop his hat like a bird in a nest. An unusual sight, but the appeal of the young creature somewhat dimmed the strange aesthetic. He paid the little one no heed; later tribulations would rob the young one of this comfort soon.

He spared a glance at the shadow of a great dragon flying overhead, highlighted against the skies, towards the far rivers where he saw the vessels of a King moving to shore. Many were the pieces being moved today, and perhaps across all of Arethil.

Pray he had not gotten too involved. He would not risk expulsion so soon yet.

 

[Vyx'aria]

The rumbling continued deep within the tunnels beneath Bhathairk, the sense of unease creeping like tendrils from the pits of her stomach as she ventured further in. Without a word, she raised a hand up to pause the scouting party. The party stood in complete silence for a moment, a lifetime underground having taught them to listen to every little motion and rumble within the cavernous tunnels.

The realization hit them all at once, and it struck as an icy chill down their spine. Vyx had originally ignored the male drow that addressed her, but the timing of his words and the impending cave in proved to be far beyond a coincidence. She simply needed to glance over at Zathria to communicate that they needed to leave right this moment.

Vyx spun on her heel and began to double back the way she came, giving a series of hand signals to rally everyone together. Spoken words were unnecessary for a militaristic group that could see perfectly clear in the dark.

To her horror, the path in front of her collapsed as well, the tremors having caught up. Vyx knew there was only one option, and it made her sick to her stomach. She veered off to the right, leading the soldiers down another path that led towards a surface entrance. Going to surface was always a last resort, but their immediate paths had been blocked and the collapse snaked through the tunnels, leaving debris and destruction in the wake of the fleeing drow. Several elves under her command perished in the collapse, but she had to get the remaining soldiers out.

After a rushed jog, the group finally arrived at a surface entrance, Vyx pushing through the stone door and making way for her soldiers to file out. Vyx took in the surface air, still not used to the world above. Mercifully, the insufferable orange ball above wasn’t here at this moment.

Her keen eyes could make out a plume of smoke as the other drow rapidly began to emerge out into the grass and open streets a half a mile away from Bhathairk. Vyx’s eyes furrowed in confusion as she turned to her soldiers.

“Send a few of the men to go investigate what that is. They are expendable,” She pointed at what appeared to be smoke. The screaming of humans and other surface beings made her ears twitch even from here. The smoke appeared to envelop the city and its people, and Vyx could see it beginning to expand and creep towards them. There was a fissure that cracked the city in half, and it was unlike anything she had seen before.

“What tidings do you bring?” She finally bothered to ask, tilting her head to look at Zuulkan.

 

[Aivrid]

Tytus Amladeris Jane Nathanael McCallister

---

​

Obviously there was not enough bowing and scraping to satisfy Aivrid.

Still, there was enough sensory information for him. Indeed the smell of humans ran deep in this place, but equally the smell of one of his own kind. Below, the little one sitting on the portal stone turned out to be a smelly dog. The dragon chuckled. "Careful, this one will spread his disease to your city," he said.

Alas it was the masked man that drew his attention most. While the mask hid the little man's features, the dragon's eyes focused on those beady little spheres that hid behind the metal mask. There was nothing to lose. Alas, small mistakes had already been made...

Aivrid's eyes wandered lazily away, scanning the city just as much for landmarks as for magic. Things were different here. Such could be expected of a city so far from Liadain and Epressa.

"Bring me to your lord. Ruler, god, whatnot. The one here worth meeting. Quickly now, there are many things to do."

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

"Do you forget your rulers so easily?"

Nate looked bored now at the dragon as it revealed itself. It keeps frogetjng that it was one of the last of its kind having been hunted and killed by the people it “rules” over. Pathetic. It clung onto that thought like a moth clung to fire.

“Im obviously not ill, if I was ill I’d be sweating with delirium and a fever.” He says with a growl facepalming and shaking his head before he jumped off the portal stone. “Sir, that dragon is ruled by its need for hoard and power. It has laid waste to many cities in search for such things.” He warns the masked man with a quiet whisper in its ear.

“I just give you that knowledge. Do with it as you will. I will be finding an inn to stay at if you wish to find us.” The hunter gives the masked man a nod and motions to Jane, “Im going to go find those beds that we were talking about. Im starving.” He’d wave, “And so bloody tired of carrying my bag everywhere.” He grumbles walking away from the scene carrying his bag. If only he had the tools to pierce that beasts heart where it stood, his father would’ve been so proud and his family would’ve been feasting for months.

Jane Aivrid Tytus Amladeris

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria quickly picked up on the dangers of their situation and nodded silently in response to her commander's unspoken words. The company began to wheel back, but the danger had already befallen them. Rock and dust poured down from above, crushing several individuals at the rear of the group and Zathria rushed back to survey the damage.

She reached out and helped up one of the fallen as the company began to move forward again. She knew what this meant, and she silently dreaded what had to be facing them just ahead. The surface was a place she only went sparingly, and she hated it. But it was now the only path open to them.

Zathria held up the rear of the group as they advanced onwards, hand gripping the hilt of her sword tightly in dread. There was no point in worrying over it now. The choice was taken, so the only option was to plunge onward.

As soon as the entrance was opened, the "fresh" air rushed in and made her turn up her nose. The scent this time, though, was laced with smoke and death. No, not fresh but perhaps more welcoming and familiar than last time. Whatever was causing the chaos below was also causing havoc on the surface.

She nodded at Vyx'aria's command and turned to the troops, selecting two swordsman and a handbowman for the trip out. She wouldn't likely be seeing the trio of men again, but who knew? Sometimes the worthless cretins surprised her. Rarely.

She eased one of her swords from its sheathe and stood near the entrance, keeping her eyes out to the opening but keeping her ears trained on the report of the male omen-reader.

 

[Gerra]

The Empire: Kiia Sidra | Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk | Ashuanar | Medja | Teriteqas | Uvogin | Nymeasha | Gaheris | Rashad | Audun | Haatim el-Amara | Martillius Rex

A hollow gaze stared after Maho. A grip like ice closed around Gerra's heart and squeezed. He felt numb. Empty. He had gained a crown, but he had lost a friend. Perhaps forever. The higher he climbed in this world, the colder it grew.

His features hardened with a grim resolve.

Turning at the sound of his name, he met Ashuanar's eyes.

So bright. So hopeful. Maho was like him once.

The emperor nodded, found his chariot, and clambered aboard.

"We ride," his voice boomed out over the assembled host and with the thunder of hooves and creak of wheels they moved out in the direction of the Forbidden City, drawing closer to the ash clouds.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

It was hard to know what led one at times. Was it simply impulse, or desire? Or was it truly the work of the gods? Sometimes, he had trouble discerning any difference. Once before he had been led to this place - this place where it all had changed.

Since then, every step, every breath felt different. But he couldn't quite compare anymore if the colours he saw now were more vibrant, or pale.

But everything became clearly sharp as he crested that ridge, and he beheld a familiar dismay...

​

He stood in a hidden awe, his eyes scanning out across the city before him. And as it had when last he left it now was again: it burned. And it crumbled. And even from here his ears heard the cries of the doomed and the fear of the faithful. Whatever curse had fallen upon this place, he admitted it rivaled the plight of his own home, and then some.

Smoke and ash smudged the sky, and the dance of the moons and stars was blotched.

His eyes ran up and then down the rising pillar, and again over the city, and then all out before it. There, some distance between where he was now and the city, a number emerged from beneath the earth - frantic to escape whatever horrors lie beneath. He watched them for a moment, pondering their part to play...

And then he felt it.​

A familiar twinge. A brief trembling. His hand grasped at his chest, almost urgently at first before simply resting there. He looked down, swallowing as he imagined what he had seen... but this was not that place. But if he was not careful perhaps, it could be. He brought his hand away from his chest, and looked into his open palm.

Looking there, he saw no blood, but imagined there being. Then he imagined his place elsewhere, his skill something less, his fear something greater. Defenseless.

There in that city, there were many like that.

Erën looked up, and took a step forward.

 

[Alexios Marxan]

Oh lovely the Forbidden City had disappeared behind a curtain of black sand and ash, that was multiple times the size of the tallest towers he had ever seen.

Oh lovely the ground was erupting with spikes and crags and suddenly he was free-falling down the side of one of those crags, VERY happily avoiding being impaled from the growing mountain range that he had the misfortune of being at the top of before the top was a mountain.

... oh lovely none of this made a lick of sense even in his own mind so that meant no fucker was going to believe him.

And even more lovely?

The sky was also full of flying cats, unspeakable shadows and dragons and more things he couldn't even put a name to. It looked like every creature capable of flight was here to watch the entire continent split itself a new arsecrack. And what was even LOVELIER?

None of the fuckers was going to bloody help the mercenary human man now rolling and skidding down the side of a mountain that had, literally, sprung out of fucking nowhere!

He was going to die by rolling down the side of a rocky mountain into an abyss that literally had not existed before this moment because he couldn't fly? Nope.

"FUCK THIS!"

Roaring his frustration at the injustice of the world, Alexios damned near exploded with fire as he poured everything he had inside of himself into his pyromancy. Bright like a sun for a few seconds, the spell took form around him as a sphere of fire before he managed to control it into a continuous stream that he aimed more with his willpower than he did with any conscious movement of his body.

The stream of fire soared from the sphere to crash into the other side of the rocky chasm with the sound of crashing clouds and ponderous thunder. Already he could feel the spell eating away at what energy he had managed to gather from eating in the last day. His adrenaline, which had seemed so limitless just seconds before, was being greedily consumed by the magic as he fed it everything he could in an agonizing, desperate, attempt to stay alive, to not fall into The World's New Asshole.

After what seemed like an eternity (but was actually closer to only a few seconds) his fall was slowed, then halted altogether. Drawing deeper, he pushed harder and he was pushed harder in turn until he was going back up the mountain he had been ill-prepared to grab onto as it grew out of nothing. The flames flickered around him and the falling star that was the pissed of mage rose until he could physically grab hold and force himself onto the peak of the mountain. Cutting off the spell immediately, he collapsed on his hands and knees atop the mountain.

Panting like a three-legged racing dog on sweepstakes day, Alexios greedily gulped down as much air as he could before violently vomiting blood up onto the stones below him. Rolling over onto his back once he was done, he struggled to keep his eyes open but he knew he couldn't let himself sleep lest he die before he woke up again.

Instead he started emitting sparks, flame sparks changed to bright green by his will. He sent them up into the air in streams in burst, beats, as he called out for someone to actually be around here and recognize that a soul needed saving. If he had a soul... he really hoped he did if that was a requirement for being saved.

 

[Ashuanar]

Ashuanar bowed his head as Gerra made his way. He turned his head, regarding Maho with a quiet greeting in the meeting of their eyes, their faces each hidden in their own ways. And then he turned and left him to attend to himself before their departure.

And then the order was given, and Gerra and his host stormed off into the night. But Ashuanar for a time remained, and watched as they made their way forward.

Al'Daim rode in Ashuanar's place at the head of his Sipahi Calvary, following closely after the emperor and his guard. Given the pace they had set it would likely only be a moment...

And behind him, a great sound rang out, and he turned to see.

Gnashing and hissing and snapping did it emerge, throwing up a great plume of dust and dirt, flinging some to and fro. The Collosal Scorpion, standing many stories tall, became visible as the dust settled and its climb to the surface complete. And atop it, stood the Vizier, a light shining brightly from his arm before dwindling as the summoning was complete.

Then after a moment of collection, the creature started forward and set a leisurely pace, easily keeping up with the host.

 

[Méchanteau]

This ash was not much different to marine snow, both particulates had a nasty habit to fill up between fabric and bones just a tad bit faster and deeper that the lich could keep up with. Through violent shakes and beatings he did managed to keep himself not looking like a carbonized casualty, at the cost of many of his clothes and golden trinkets. A sacrifice he was willing to make, made just bearable by the growing curiosity that gave his steps and hops the strength to cover the treacherous ash and obsidian ground. And as if the flying cat was not good enough of an omen, Méchanteau spotted a dragon. Perhaps he ought to be cautious — even scared —, but as with every strange and great beast the lich was instead wondering how the critter could be made to bite the dust to then be raised. It took only the sight of the astronomers for Méchanteau to focus back to the task at hand, it stood to reason that since the moons were doing something or other that they really shouldn't, the Moondial might give answers.

But of course, Méchanteau had more roguish inclinations, he was first and foremost a people person.

"Peace upon you and yours!" he shouted over the shifting hill disturbed by the beating of the dragon's wings, just before he slid down its slope. Khopesh in hand, even being juggled around, the undead's lack of features hid well his leering at the dragon. Such fine wings and toned legs, he ought to have a beast like that in the Carrion Flock! "What a fine mess of affairs we find ourselves in, boys and ghouls. As the angry dragon said, why don't you fine folk put us up to speed?" he sneaked a ring gesture at the lizard, very much enjoying the 'good guard/bad guard' dynamic he had unwittingly instigated. "Oh-oh, are you dead!?" he clapped excitedly at the strange figures, already coming up with uses for them in the fleet. Deck swabbers for sure, you wouldn't believe just how much waste a bloated corpse can make!

And thank goodness the Empire weren't here in force, it'd be rather awkward to explain why he hadn't managed to take over the City since their last romp. Stupid bugs.

 

[Kara Orin]

The astronomers choked on the dust in the air and continued so even up to the moment Masaru arrived. Fear already saturated their hearts because of the environment turning against them. Now a dragon appears.

“I want to go home!” an astronomer wailed.

One of the three remained lucid enough to notice the dragon, but simply pleaded with, “Please spare us!”

Méchanteau appearing added nothing but more reason for the astronomers to uncontrollably weep and beg for their lives.

The glow of the Serpent’s Teeth survived whatever occurred. They continued to glow in the waning night. Yet a large crack down the middle of the Moondial formed. Beyond it, a path underground with a labyrinth potentially full of traps and monsters.

(OOC: Feel free to explore freely, add your own obstacles without waiting for me, etc. I can drop little nuggets/twists/opportunities when appropriate)

---

The scar east of the Forbidden City calmed. No more rumbling. No more ash exploded into the air. The sound of tumbling rocks filled the air as they fell to a resting spot. The jagged white hills silently sat under the moonlight.

Anyone that fell into the crevices of the scar would find that these formations stretched deep into the earth. That is, if they found a way to see in the cramp, humid darkness.

---

Word at Elbion was that an expedition was being formed to see what happened – made of both city soldiers and College mages.

Kara managed to immerse herself in the group. And many others, including Zier Xya Zythos, would be invited.

Instead of heading out to meet the threat immediately, the Elbion expedition would ride at dawn.

 

[Tir'Coatl]

"Tell me again."

The commanding voice rang out across the gilded throne room, authoritative and serpentine. Several Naga courtiers lowered their heads submissively, casting quick glances to the voice's target: A shaman, dressed in bones and fallen trophies.

"The portal stone, the one we captured... it leads to another. Far, far away from the lands we know," he recalled. A clawed hand rose to gesture vaguely in its direction, and then at the sky. "It may have something to do with the aligning of the Scales."

The Scaled King, perched upon a golden throne with a coiling tail, tapped sharpened claws as thoughts rushed to make sense of this. The portal stones have always led to the same places, even the Naga—as young as they were—knew this fact. They proved useful for the prospect of launching small raiding parties, though remained stagnant in their capabilities.

This, however, proved different. Whatever was behind it, it could prove to be of great use to Samskaya. Strange treasures to hoard, blood to spill, allies to gain. This would be useful.

"Prepare a group of the Fanged and whatever advisors are present, armed for whatever may come. I shall accompany them to wherever this stone leads."

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The portal stone of the Naga was surrounded by wooden stakes out of fear of travelers. The party of Naga, with Tir'Coatl himself as their leaders, slowly approached it. Each was armed with weapons—shields, spears, and bows alike. Whether what was beyond this stone warranted death or alliance, they would be prepared.

First, however, the price must be paid. One of the nearby servants brought over the deceased corpse of a rabbit, which was taken by Tir'Coatl and pushed against the ancient stone. A knife was clenched in his other hand, sharp and curved. As it was brought forward so that it may sink into soft flesh, blood slowly spilled across the pristine portal stone.

A rumbling emerged from around them while the blood seeped inside, fueled with unnatural magic. In an instant, they vanished.

​

When they returned, they saw... a city, filled with Skinned Ones. They spoke in their tongue, yet their voice was oddly different from those the Naga had met before. The same went for their clothing; it seemed strange when compared to what they knew. In fact, everything about this society seemed oddly unfamiliar, even to a people that rarely spent time with the Skinned Ones.

As Tir'Coatl surveyed the nearest individuals, a few caught his attention. There were two Skinned Ones, as bland as most were. The next individual was far more interesting, one dressed in strange armor and masked. It seemed they originated here.

However, the last was what truly drew their serpentine gaze. A dragon, with glistening scales and a rumbling voice. Though shamans spoke of them in legends, one had never graced the Scaled King's eyes. Some called them the children of Quetsaal, who had once been the inheritors of her creation before they had all fallen to some great death, perhaps due to their own greed and arrogance. Whatever the stories were, this was a rare occasion.

"I am the Scaled King, Tir'Coatl of the Tiskuani," he asserted, a powerful voice leaving the regal naga as he extended to an impressive height. His common was surprisingly good for what is typically considered to be an uncivilized beast, at least to those of the world they come from. What this people know of them, he was unsure. His gaze focused on the masked figure as he spoke, asking, "This place, where is it? It is unfamiliar to any I have ever heard tales of."

The Fanged warriors nearby stood at attention, eyeing any of those who came too close to their king, baring fangs and weapons alike to those that do so.

 

[Xunari Auceus]

Xunari had decided that she was already far too tired for this... whatever it was. It wasn't like an earthquake so much as it was a general rupture of the earth somewhere far from them and yet connected to their home by the earth itself.

Cursing, she held a shield above her head as she made her way towards one of the surface entrances. The runic array on the shield burned brightly as it projection a magical shield around her roughly ten times the size of the actual shield she was holding.

Already the magic was beginning to drain, warping the metal of the shield little by little with each chunk of rock that smashed into it. Grunting with annoyance, she stood in the doorway, letting others stream past her as she literally held up the doorway to keep it from collapsing.

Feeling the runes start to drain from her rather than the now twisted and bent shield, she waved to those behind her.

"Find an alternate exit - I cannot hold this one any longer!"

She could be she refused to drain herself dry for men and children, considering most of those who had escaped to the surface already were women. With the men and children rushing to find a new exit she safely exited, the entrance at least partially collapsing behind her as she struggled to get the warped metal off of her right arm.

Cursing loudly, she managed to pull it free but it tore her nightclothes, exposing several runice arrays along her right forearm. Muttering to herself about ill-constructed shields, she looked for someone who looked to be in command. She spotted Zathria, a weapon's master that she had never actually met in person but someone she knew by reputation.

"What's the word?" she asked bluntly, "I was asleep and then suddenly I need to prop up the gods-damned ceiling above my head. Is this just a local shake?"

But as she took in the air around them... no... no this was something bigger.

Zathria At'Arel Vyx'aria Tor'Rahel

 

[Jane]

Jane did not think that Nate meant Aivrid was literally a dragon--she barely had a conception of what a dragon even was. Nor did she have much exposure to shapeshifting. Minor exceptions for already grotesque creatures becoming even more so, never something that looked perfectly human becoming...not that.

So Jane was awash in a tide of shock and awe when Aivrid transformed, her characteristic cavalier attitude melting away as she witnessed the spectacle with growing eyes and a sinking jaw. It left her stunned. Look at the size of him! Look! And there's those lovely, lovely talons Nate had spoken so eloquently of!

Jane blinked the slowest blink she'd ever blinked in her whole life. She missed Tytus's question to Aivrid, Aivrid's chuckling warning about Nate, Nate's subsequent retort about Aivrid, and half of Aivrid's demand of Tytus in the haze of overwhelmed astonishment and sheer wonder at the absolute killing potential of a being like Aivrid.

And a slow grin spread across her face.

I have to see where this ends. It's for...

She clutched with her right hand the Amulet of Astra hanging about her neck...

Drakon! That's right! It's for Drakon! Wouldn't Drakon want to know?

...and let it fall from her grasp. A meek clatter of metal, as it came to rest against her armor once more.

When Nate prompted for them to leave, to actually go and find one of those beds she'd been fantasizing about since waking up on the ship (and even before that, really), she gave a half turn of her head toward him and said as he was walking away, "N-No, Nate, I'm...I'm going to..."

This caught Nate's attention, though she barely seemed to notice, so wrapped up in her thoughts was she. He had stopped, halting in his stated intention to go and find an inn, cast a glance back and with some amount of reluctance that was ultimately defeated, came back over to her side. His look of patient regard toward her likewise going unnoticed.

Jane then abruptly turned her attention to Tytus and said emphatically, "Bring me too! I will represent Cerak At'Thul of the Black Bay!"

She didn't give a damn about representing anybody--and it was honestly the best excuse she could come up with.

Because there was a craving, dark red and festering, in her heart of hearts.

Nathanael McCallister Aivrid Tytus Amladeris

 

[Kthell]

"Kin, for how else would I know the touch of cosmic? None I have met that carries such a mark, until you,” Tenrof said. And then he showed her a glimpse of his true self and the World ached. She felt it, as did the child. Fascinating.​

​

Kthell saw something.. similar there. Perhaps not one in the same, however. Her bounds were weakening – unbearably slowly – and she could sense the well of cosmic power deep within her, shackled behind layers of enchantments. But she was stolen away just after she’d sparked into existence and had been tainted by earthly magics and hands. She was young and weak, perhaps having more in common with Kouri than she’d like to admit.​

​

This Tenrof was more, far more.​

​

She suddenly felt as a peasant before a king, and her eyes lowered with brief reverence. At that moment, they caught a glimpse of the dragon’s shadow and raised to follow the beast. She let out a sharp, whispered ‘Tcha!’, tail erratic behind her, before returning her attention to the shadowed figure.​

​

“Origins, we do not share, Kthell. Mine is singular and fixed. Never before nor after. I wonder what yours is however, for myself to take notice?" he continued.​

​

“I was stolen,” she replied. “Long, long ago. Bound here by a number of silly, stupid elves.”​

​

The cat shook her head, allowing her cloak to fall a little farther down her neck. There Tenrof would see the collar. She pulsed with energy, just enough to push out a circle of sand around her, and the collar and symbols across her body fleetingly glowed with a white energy in kind.​

​

Layers upon layers of strong, old, and forgotten Antikathri enchantments kept her anchored to her form. Or the world. She was unsure. Perhaps she would blink from existence in this plane once her bindings failed in the following ages.​

​

“I had.. hoped that a cousin was here.” Kthell turned her head towards the Forbidden City. “One that could free me. Stars aligning? Seemed about right, all things considered, ” A pause. “But perhaps not. This is more in line with dragon-work. Ash. Volcanoes.” She let free a very human sigh. “Yet again, disappointment.”​

​

“Why are you and Kouri here?”​

Tenrof

 

[Tytus Amladeris]

​

As Aivrid scanned the city, he would spot more floating structures dotted in the skyline. The city wall completely surrounded the city. And an opulent palace overlooked it all. A sea could be seen just beyond the west city wall, with a gentle river to the east.

Within the city itself, a number of robed clergy and soldiers approached. Their footsteps became just barely audible as they drew near – and they would grow louder with every passing second.

While still tense, there was some relief in Tytus upon hearing Aivrid’s words. A demand to see the Archprophet, as interpreted by the soldier. He felt as if lives might have been saved this day.

Nothing was said after Nate’s whispers. Tytus did not move to give chase to the foreigner – and thus in the chaos, Nate would have ample time to explore before the city could afford to find him. There was not even much of a response to Jane.

“Yes, please f-“ Tytus began.

Yet the sudden appearance of a party of armed Naga stopped him. To Tytus and the normal Thagretis citizen, the Naga looked like Lizardfolk abominations.

Tytus began to take several steps back. Silence answered Ti’Coatl. The town square had luckily mostly cleared out. Reinforcements could be heard approaching. Yet, how the dragon reacted to the Naga’s appearance might change that.

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate returns to Jane’s side at her sounds of protest. The inn wasnt going anywhere and he didnt want to leave in a foregin land alone. The Naga suddenly appearing startled him making him step away from the portal stone. “A dragon and fucking naga... greeeat.” He mumbles under his breath rubbing his temples.

“Jane please tell me you may have another of those keys on you? Right?” He asked because he wanted to make sure they had a way out that was assured in the worse case scenerio. He didn’t much and just watched, keeping his hand ready in the case he needed to move quickly to defend himself.

Two monsters, each a different caliber. Asking for one person, interesting but yet caused him to worry some. “My companion and I were just trying to figure where we are out as well, until you and your kin and the dragon ported in as well.” He tells the Naga looking at the group of the most colorful characters.

Jane Tytus Amladeris Aivrid Tir'Coatl

 

[Zeri Rekani]

”Not foolish,” he rumbled quietly,

Zeri's eyes brightened and her nervousness was dispelled, if but for a small moment. A swell of hope lifted her shoulders and she looked up at him and said, "Really? Are you going to help me? I-I-I don't even know how to thank you! I wish--"

The rumbling intensified sharply and the cataclysmic shaking of the earth returned. A jet of dust shot out from the tannery and Zeri turned her head away and brought up an arm to shield her face, and a veritable third of the tannery collapsed in on itself with the strength of these renewed quakes. And all throughout Bhathairk a terrible clamor--like the footsteps of a thousand Amalgamations--as the ground split as if cleaved by a mighty waraxe and homes likewise collapsed and a great chorus of horrified screams was heralded by the spirits of the wind. The massive cloud of gray Ash thrust into the air along the line of the fissure like a curtain of dreadful midnight.

Zeri's face immediately paled as she turned about and saw the cloud of Ash and furthermore, since they stood on the crest of a gentle hill in this part of the city, as she could see some of the utter devastation wrought across the length of her--

Home.

Home.

HOME!

"M...M-M...Mama?"

She hadn't said that in years.

"Mama??"

She dropped her spear. The weapon clattered lifelessly on the ground.

"MAMA!! PAPA!!"

And Zeri, so consumed now by the abject horror and victim to the icy tendrils of fright piercing through her heart and clouding her mind, so impassioned with overpowering concern for her family, could not register what Szesh had said to her nor even take notice of his gesture. She did not bend down to pick up her prized hunting spear, crafted by herself under Pa's guidance, the very weapon which had earned her the privilege of adorning herself with the tattoo on her right arm.

She ran. As fast as she possibly could.

Down the street and directly toward the great fissure sundering Bhathairk.

Toward home.

She did not even notice the small flakes of Ash that landed upon her arms, her hands, her legs, her face. The tiny blossoming of bruises.

Szesh Caliane Ruinë

 

[Aivrid]

Tytus Amladeris Tir'Coatl Jane Nathanael McCallister

---

​

The dragon sighed. This was beginning to get tedious. The lycan's self-importance rivaled even a dragon's, the small woman there appeared to be at least mildly aroused, and now there were naga. At least the lizardfolk had the intelligence to bow and scrape in the presence of their greater ancestor. This snake fashioned himself a king and thought himself above the creature that so menacingly towered over him... still, the creature had the courtesy to properly introduce himself. Aivrid, of course, could thank the little lycan for giving the dragon at least the semblance of an introduction -- the look in the man's eyes betrayed his disdain for the so-called monsters. His constant whispering made it clear that what he was saying was not to be heard by the dragon.

"Priestess. Tighten the leash on your dog. I will provide you with portal keys to leave here. Which I suggest you do," he said, addressing Tir'Coatl as well. "For when I destroy the stone, there will be no way back for you. Not one that will be easy, in any case." Then again, if his theories and musings proved true, it was possible that this new land would soon be accessible to the rest of the world. The Great Ones were rising, the planets were aligning -- the world was changing, and quickly.

Danger, yet opportunity.

His eyes turned to the masked man. "Take me to your leader... unless, of course, I would be welcomed if I headed to the palace alone." Probably not. But this masked creature surely knew better than to deny a dragon's request. Better yet he knew not to leave a dragon unattended in the city.

 

[Szesh]

”Wait-” Szesh’s plea was not heard. The girl, distraught, had run directly towards the mayhem. He watched after her, seeing her grow smaller and smaller and watching her fade into the dust. It felt like a long time -- it was seconds.

The girl had made her choice. She would try to find her family, defend her home. It was not his place to tell her otherwise, not his concern should she fall. He should focus on his own life, his own escape from whatever hell was enveloping them. He owed her nothing.

He owed her nothing.

~*~

Szesh had lost a comrade in a storm once. It was cold and the wind was fierce, but they had made shelter, lit a fire with the power of their breath and settled low in a crag. Four draconian warriors chasing a foreign warband. They had repelled the aggressors from their village, but it was not enough. If it were up to them, Szesh and his brothers would have chased their enemies to the very edges of the territory and struck them down just for daring to attack their home.

The storm had ended their pursuit, but not for Skarreth. He had howled at the rain and declared that he would not let the foreigners go unpunished. Szesh had not stopped him, and when his body was found in the morning, he had not wept. The red warrior had known the risks, knew that his brothers would not follow, and he had died with honor.

~*~

Szesh had not thought of this again until now, watching the young orc fade away. At the time he had been so sure. Proud, even, of his friend’s dedication. Looking back now, with a new mind shaped by a new life, he saw what a terrible waste it had been.

He owed Zeri nothing. He had owed Skarreth nothing.

But she should not need to die chasing smoke.

Szesh brought his wings down and bolted into the sky, clearing the street as the tanner collapsed in earnest. He whirled around and streaked over the madness, watching for Zeri. He saw no one, and the streets grew foggier by the moment. He cut a path through the falling ash, and his scales began to turn gray.

A small cough, a brief hiccup as he snorted the ash from his nose. He thought nothing of it.

 

[Tenrof]

I was stolen,” she replied. “Long, long ago. Bound here by a number of silly, stupid elves.”

A shame, he mused. Rituals to bind those from the cosmic or even the Beyond, similar to himself, were folly. What bindings such rituals managed were but pieces. Fragments of a singular whole. Draw forth any further and they invited a flood. A swarm unlike any other. The feline before him was one such fragment, bound by charms that bore the marks of time. But even through the veils of enchantments he saw her for what she could be. Or once was. He would have conversed with such an entity if only to admire the purity of its concept for himself.​

​

The cat shook her head, allowing her cloak to fall a little farther down her neck. There Tenrof would see the collar. She pulsed with energy, just enough to push out a circle of sand around her, and the collar and symbols across her body fleetingly glowed with a white energy in kind.

​

Even now he saw the enchantments unraveling, as whatever magic that sustained them drained like blood from a wound. Elven indeed. He identified the runes and language used written in the flowing letters of their kind, but the magic lacing them was a hybrid of arcane and Void both.​

But a drizzle. A drip. Long would it be before this one would join its origin once more. He did not see fit to expedite the process, as to hone such control meant his own expulsion. Of course, he could try killing it to send it back to the source proper, but he had long learned such pragmatic solutions were not the best, ethically.

He had been taught better than that. No, better than he point her in a direction he felt would serve her best, if only to aid her plight. But only after this.

"You ask my purpose here, with young Kouri."

He turned to gaze down the fissures below, seeing beyond the dark depths into the eyes of those who dared look back. Those beneath dared, rising from a dormancy long and distant, and surged with intent to strike against one who so dastardly intruded upon the kingdom of their minds. The earth shook with hidden roars, sounds unheard to all except those in tune with the nature of the world. The cries of Arethil were smothered to Tenrof, under the din of crashing bellows of those underground.

He paid their struggles, their defiance, the attention a stranger would view a child's tantrum.

Droll. Bland. Insignificant.

Those below would have dared further, were not the gleam of the amulet at his side glimmering with a faint light, visible to them, and them only. A haunting light, so sickeningly white, even the skies darkened beyond the clouds of ash and smoke. They knew that light, and they knew only one who bore such a torch.

The three then heard a rumble, a shift of tectonic plates and earth. The pillar of smoke bulged, belching more fire and ash into the skies. But with this burst came a name. Carried with a rasp, a deathly growl of some hidden monster. Many things were sent with this name. Curiosity, challenge, wariness, expectancy. But prevalent was the recognition of the entity looking down upon them, a name whispered in fear.

"Legionsbane..."

Tenrof heard enough, and turned his attention back to the cat, apologetic in his tone for the abrupt scene he had caused.

"The spirit at my side, was to be born in a world far after its time. After the eons that have passed, I deemed it fit to be reborn here, in this age."

The spirit, perking up at its name, leaped up to the shadow's shoulder as it rose to its full, towering height.

"To carry on the legacy of the Great Spirit Tree Niwalis, and fill the world with the light of the Wisps once again. But to do so requires strength, and as a newborn Kouri must endure what is to come. I guide it so it may gather the strength needed."

And when it grew of strength, he would grant it the Wispseed, and through union would the spirit leave its life behind, and begin anew as a guardian of the forests. Perhaps here, where there was nothing but sand, heat, and death, would Kouri nurture the Spirit Tree. Grace these sands with vibrant life.

"Help young Kouri, Kthell, and I shall aid you with information. Your enchantments cannot be undone by my hand, but there is one whom I have rewarded the art of Voidheart. Perhaps through that mage's own art, may you find the return you have sought."