The Great Ones The Great Ones Beneath

[Kouri]

Suddenly berefit of its guardian and parent, the spirit could only let out a long whine as it descended even further into the pits. But there was the cat falling with it, and with a desperate reach, Kouri grasped for whatever of the creature beside him. His hands swung about to little avail, missing the cat by inches each time. But at last he caught Kthell, and clutched itself tightly to her back.

Their fall would be broken by an object, that had no place to be where it was.

A tree branch.

And beneath it, was a dimly lit dwelling. A pond.

Here their adventure would truly begin.

​

 

[White Swallow]

A deafening ringing penetrated into the minds of those present. Shaking the very bones of any man or horse present.
The White Swallow felt as if time had stopped for a moment. From the rumble and blast, sand shook like a fluid. Only a moment after would it finally show, the smoke and glistening glass erupting from the nearby east. It spanned as far west on the horizon he could see. What had just happened?

Nevertheless, they had to sortie. Still deaf from the blast, and the rumbling of the earth, the unit began to call out for each other among the rustled air.
Digging out the horses and their comrades, it took them some good time to properly assemble every man together. None lost. No injuries. Shocked a little.
Tjhat will pass.

Last, that was not all that it had been.
Zakariyya dusted off his beard in time to see delicate particles shift again. His eyes peered into the distance where the soot receded into the void it had previously created.
»My lord, « he gasped. »That is beyond anything I've ever seen.« Every man turned to face the newly emerged hellish beast of a dragon that seemed more like a distand mountain than any living creature they had ever seen.

 

[Ragna]

​

Ragna had slept on the tavern floor but even her alcohol fuelled slumber wasn't enough to ignore the chaos that Bhathairk had turned into. Twisting and turning in her sleep, she finally awoke when a lump of timber landed atop her.

The giant rose with a growl of anger, tossing aside the beam and looking for the interloper who had dared to wake her. Her roar died in her throat as she took in the devastation around her. The tavern was reduced to two barely standing walls and a collapsed roof. Smoke rose on the horizon and she could see other collapsed buildings further on.

She could hear cries for help and wails from the injured. The giantess stood, taking in the scene of devastation. Nowhere seemed untouched by it, as far as her eyes could see. Ragna had no love for orcs but she moved towards where cries sounded and stooped to grab a broken beam. She pulled, snarling at the weight of the heavy timber and creating a gap for some orcs to scramble out.

She ignored their thanks and stomped back to retrieve her belongings. The gods must be angry, why else had they unleashed their anger on the city?

 

[Neha]

​

Whilst Liadain broke with the force of her beloved, Epressa bowed at the return of its Queen.

Bhathairk, or what remained of it, suddenly screamed. The ground where it had attempted to cling together now broke apart. Houses, towers, entire streets fell into the cracks that shot through the city dividing it up into small isolated islands that separated loved ones from one another. A tremendous heat rose up from the fissures and far below the swirl of molten red lava could be glimpsed.

Then, when it seemed as though no further horrors could come forth, the Bald Mountain itself tore apart. The myths, the legends, that had surrounded the origins of the focal part of the city were all turned to ash as a sudden jet of fire erupted from its peak. It tore through the mountain like a knife through butter sending rocks tumbling down into the city below. Then following the flame came a snout, teeth the size of the tallest towers honed into deadly sharp points. The city heaved as it birthed Neha.

It was lucky really that it was only her head had been built upon for the countryside beyond the city walls made the destruction of the city itself pale in comparison. Jagged black ridges rose up from beneath the ground, higher and higher. The part of the wall that had been built across her neck crumpled into dust.

Nothing could withstand her emergence.

The roar from the distant land caught her attention and spared the people beneath her her attention for the moment. Then suddenly she opened her gaping maw and let forth an answering roar. Her wings, which had been trapped to her sides in earth now snapped free and covered the entire city in their shadow.

 

[Aivrid]

Tytus Amladeris Tir'Coatl Jane Nathanael McCallister

---

​

As it was there was little for Aivrid to do aside from follow. He reached down and opened his palm to the orcs, one of which produced something comparatively miniature and placed it in that palm. He took the little piece and brought it to his maw. A few moments later he was returned to the miniature human form he'd taken when he'd entered the city. It was a risk, to be held in such a form, but he believed it would make them more amenable to him.

He glanced at the group of orcs and held up two fingers. One of the orcs headed to the portal stone and produced a key, then promptly disappeared. The rest took up positions around the transformed dragon before they advanced, following the masked man.

 

[Tereth Adathar]

Tereth was grateful when the first of the tremors stopped. When he'd finally pulled his gaze away from the cloud in the distance, he'd begun to aid the villagers who still remained. Shock, fear, and grief overtook many of them as they began to realize their loved ones were dead.

But the danger was only beginning. He mounted his stallion and began to ride. In the distance, he could see a gathering army. The forces of a warlord? Or something larger? A second wave of shaking continued to rock the landscape, and the hunter was nearly thrown from his saddle.

Whoever was gathering ahead was immediately overshadowed in importance by the sight that rose on the horizon. A creature the size of which Tereth had never seen before. He'd hunted monsters before, but nothing like this. It was another animal altogether. His instinct was to reach for his sword, but he knew against something so large, it wouldn't even make an impression.

Not to mention the rising clouds of... well, he wasn't sure what it was, but he had the distinct impression in his heart of its ominous nature. Anything rising to black out the sky from such a creature was not to be taken lightly. A veil to shield light hating creatures of the depths? Something to make the world choke? Or simply a passive byproduct of the emergence?

Tereth found himself all but frozen. It wasn't often that he felt completely wracked by indecision, but now was that moment. Whatever this was was far beyond his skill, but neither could he turn back. Whatever this was could very well threaten the entire known world, but even the assembled army seemed laughable as a means of defeating it. Nonetheless, the monster hunter made for the armed force. It stood a better chance than he alone. Die now or die later, for die we must.

 

[Alexios Marxan]

What.

The mountains that had risen were rising more and suddenly they weren't mountains but were, instead, the scales of a dragon so immense that it beggered belief. Gripping the rock-like scale that he was currently resting on, Alexios gritted his teeth as the dragon rose to stand on all four legs.

Even on all four legs it was taller than literally anything he had ever seen before and at least twice as tall as even the tallest towers in the most fantastical tales. On all fours - not even bothering to use it's wings yet.

"Oh motherfucker!"

Lamenting his lot in life, Alexios gripped the scales as tightly as he could, willing himself to his feet so that he would actually be able to move. He didn't know how or where to move to but he knew that he probably needed to do it before the massive Dragon realized it had a passenger.

"Abso-fucking-lutely un-bloody-believable!" he seethed as he hacked up some blood, spitting it out onto the dragon because, well, what else could he really do? Pulling himself up onto his knees, he braced himself, "I could climb down..."

He made the mistake of looking down.

"Nope. Nooooope. Nuh uh. Fuck that way too then I guess."

Looking along the length of the dragon he knew what he was probably going to end up doing. It was dumb, it was desperate and he could be accused of being both of those things right now without being incorrect. Forcing his body to move he pushed himself to start walking and then running as he ran along the length of the Dragon's back...

Which was not a metaphor for opioid addiction for once.

The roar sounded out and it was heard literally miles away - Alexios had enough warning to cover his ears with his hands as he ran but what the hell was that really going to do? Blood welled up from both of his ears and although they weren't beyond healing, they were mostly useless now.

He barely even noticed he was ranting as he used both his dagger and a flaming hand to dig foot and hand-holds into the flesh of the Dragon's side. Inching closer to the head of the dragon by crawling up the side of it's incredibly long bloody neck he could tell that he wasn't even breaking the skin with either the dagger or his flames. Instead it was like he was making a small indent that lasted only as long as he was putting his entire weight on them, before they'd spring back and the dragon wasn't even aware, let alone harmed.

"PUSS SPURTING SON OF A WHORE DRAGON AND IT'S BLOODY SCUM-SUCKING TIMING!"

He didn't mean to shout but he was also completely unable to hear anything and he really wanted to vent.

"FUCKING ROCK CLIMBING A LIVING LIZARD THE SIZE OF A COUNTRY LIKE IT'S NO BIG FUCKING DEAL WHILE MY EARS GUSH LIKE A VIRGIN ON HER WEDDING NIGHT! I BLOODY HATE THIS BLOODY CITY AND IT'S BLOODY FUCKING SAND AND IT'S MOUNTAINS THAT ARE DRAGONS THAT ARE... ABSOLUTE... BASTARDS!"

 

[Vyx'aria]

Drow fam: Zathria At'Arel Xunari Auceus Szordryn Zaphresz Zuulkan Tir'Xhal Velathina T'sarran

Vyx gritted her teeth at the tidings of dragons, though she saw no cause for concern just yet. That was when Szordryn’s forces came back with reports of an orc attack. Of course the drow were being blamed for all this - they had historically been branded for the misfortunes of others. She prepared to give the orders to strike back against the stronghold when she heard the thunderous noises of the earth cracking open yet again.

She held up a hand to halt all movements from her forces, allowing them a chance to witness what was unfolding before them. A massive figure ascended from the fissure of hell created by the city of Bhathairk coming to permanent ruin. Vyx could only watch as the serpent rose, the echo of a roar from a dragon afar piercing through the sky.

“To arms!!!” Vyx shouted at the top of her lungs, trying to keep fear from creeping into her tone. She couldn’t falter, not now when the drow were already out of their homes and forced to face a beast that dwarfed their goddess.

She gave a series of hand signals that rapidly communicated to the mages to disperse and use the blood from the dead to lay a blood magic trap. This was all for back up plans as Vyx had a different idea entirely. She communicated as such to her fellow drow before she told them to stand down for now.

Vyx also gave the command to get the dragon’s attention. It was a risky plan, but she was a different breed of drow. She had no desire to remain hidden and scurry away like rats. Vyx knew this beast was here after their goddess hadn’t answered their prayers for centuries.

It wasn’t long before hundreds of drow were much closer to the dragon, but still barely enough out of the ash’s reach. Vyx commanded the others to stand back as she stepped forth alone and had her blade with her. She felt the intense heat from the earth being split in two, and she could see the rivers of lava underneath as she crossed a narrow makeshift bridge across it. The dragon towered far beyond any mountain she had ever seen.

That was when she brought her blade forth and slammed it into the ground, crouching behind it and bowing her head. She spoke as loud as she could, and even if her voice didn’t carry far enough for the dragon to hear, her actions would be clear.

“What is thy bidding, goddess?”​

She had read about the vanity of dragons, and she could only hope that applied here. If not, she and hundreds of her kind were doomed.

 

[Xunari Auceus]

There were Orcs blaming them for all their misfortunes (imagine her non-existant surprise at that) but, far more pressingly, there was a giant dragon that wasn't there before. Or rather had been there before but had been a mountain before.

Odd that.

Seeing that Vyx was aiming for something risky that INVOLVED said dragon, Xunari decided that she was going to need to prep as quickly as she could. Blowing a strand of hair out of her face in annoyance, she commanded her mages.

"Collect the blood - NOW!"

Striding forwards, she began to use the collected blood to inscribe on the ground. Each rune she painted upon the ground was as large as she was tall and they greedily soaked up pints and pints of blood.

They were visible from above as they glowed with pale purple light around Vyx and some of the braver drow to stand close to her. All of them were varying languages but all of them were variations of words and phrases meant to invoke the idea of "Peace".

So, naturally, they were all shield runes that she had no illusion would be able to do more than give them a few seconds to run if the Dragon decided it didn't like messages of Peace, love and worshipers.

Vyx'aria Tor'Rahel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

News of the orcish attack was not great, but also not shocking. Zathria had half a mind to go out and begin butchering people in the town to slap them into line, but before she could entertain such thoughts and form them into any sort of an orderly plan, the ground split open, and from its core climbed a creature whose size Zathria had difficulty fathoming. How could the drow have never found this creature beneath the earth before? How many more might there be? Sleeping behemoths from another era.

They made good time to approach the creature, and shortly thereafter, they were just at the edge of the ashy spread. The mages moved to gather blood and inscribe a message of peace, and Zathria strove to work out a means of getting the creature's to look their way at all. Although it may have been the most dangerous job of the group, someone needed to organize the issue.

Warriors! her voice rose over the company gathered. Swords to shields! Now! she cried, and the flats of the blades slammed against the shields that were carried.

Again! she shouted. Once more the weapons and armor clattered together as one. The sound of hundreds of metal pieces in unison was enough to carry over any surrounding noise and draw attention. The noise continued for a time until it seemed they had garnered the attention they sought and the commander began to move forward.

As Vyx made her approach, Zathria cut the cacophony short and listened to what her commander said. Whether this was genuine or part of a ruse, Zathria couldn't be sure, but she would have been lying - and had lied about it many times - if she'd said that in the darkest recesses of her mind she didn't have doubts about her silent goddess. Of course, such words would be worthy of death at the hands of the priestesses, but nevertheless, she knew that many wondered the same.

 

[Méchanteau]

Méchanteau got the impression that this shapeshifter did not hold the undead - nor pirates - in very high regard. Dragons truly were wise! As expected, this one had the vanity to match: some well-placed - if heartily felt - words were enough to mellow him enough for something more than the usual gruff and puff. Unfortunately. Whether an overgrown lizard or a hairless ape, everyone liked compliments, and the skeleton would have much preferred to have one in return than some trite criticism on his art.

"Of course I jabbed a rock betwixt the man's shoulders!" he groused loudly, enough at home in the foreboding and empty antiquity of their surroundings to let his voice echo on for miles "What's the problem with that? Am I to take it off now? Shit is as shit does, good sir, had he not thwarted my resting then perhaps I would have treated his corpse with some damn respect. Or not make him a corpse at all!" he concluded, pride shielded from more wounding by the crossing of bandage-laden arms "Then there's this whole... cataclysm thing going on. Do you reckon this is the end of the world?" Heavens, what interesting times these would be if everything fell down the proverbial latrine - perhaps even profitable?

So enormously taken by wrath, and then the whimsy that followed, it took the astronomer's body to lose its rugged semblance for Méchanteau to realize that the ground was shaking. He then heard a roar, loudest he had ever heard. He didn't understood the feeling right away, but he did think his existence was at an end. He knew he wouldn't sail the sea no more, or sack plunder, make coin, grow in legend. You could only stave off death for so long, right? That was one of the rules the spellslinger fleshies lived by. Probably the one they actually got right.

But, terrified as he was, Méchanteau could not delve into the philosophy of the thing much deeper than his innate hatred for rules. Those sucked, but so did being swallowed up by a landslide for the coming centuries, a fate just as certain if he didn't get outside the Moondial fast. Without saying much, besides a long stream of swearing, the lich ran. The load of the rock-head was shared between him and the astronomer, cradled by both and topped by the hat. "Put in good word for me if the bastard turns out to be family." he laughed without much joy.

Masaru

 

[Ashuanar]

​

He beheld them likely before any of the others had - his vantage garnering him quite a bit more awareness of the surround. If not that, then the shared awareness with his companion, the colossal scorpion, and its detection of seismic occurrences so minute - in comparison to itself at least - even the pitter patter of bipedal feet could be felt. And though on a trade route such as this he would be more surprised to come across no one at all, the state in which they were found in was enough to disgruntle him.

One person's eyes in particular met his, sparing a glance far above and behind the troop of Imperial cavalrymen, funneling down the worn road.

He expected to feel one thing, and then got the inclination of another - a troubling thought, telepathic sense, whatever it was...

Dread - but not at the sight of his beast as he had come to anticipate, but dread for whatever it was that lay behind them: that which was before him.

And there, even upon his marvelous creature whose legs spanned far and wide, whose body was made of armour and whose fury was like poison, he felt uncertain. Even this strength felt... futile in the face of whatever it was that split the world and rained death upon the land.

Futile at the very sound of it.

Its roar split the night.



The ground itself quaked with its stirring, and again with its call,

and even Akrep's mighty creature, the scorpion, was given pause - for a moment.
​

Ashuanar looked ahead, shock and awe riddling and features. Even from here, so far out, they could not only hear it, but they could see it. The pale beast, stretching its great wings far and wide in the distance, tremendous in its sheer size. While he at one time thought of his own creature as colossal - this dragon, no, this thing, it was on its own level entirely.

And he felt for a brief time, anxiety - his uncertainty welling at the sight of their apparent foe. But he cast a glance downward, beholding the host of Gerra's men - his men - and the Emperor himself at the head. And now, drawing to his side at the forefront - Medja. Then his eyes turned onward, and watched as Maho charged ahead. He knew full well that Maho did not expect to return from such a charge... at least not on his own. And yea, even those of their host, even Gerra…

Medja...

How could they hope to survive a direct assault against such a thing?

Perhaps, if it were not so direct...​

And the great scorpion's claws slammed together with an affirmative sheer, and once again started forward, its legs carrying it much faster and farther than it had before to bring it to the forefront of the Empire's force, and beyond. Ashuanar himself knelt closely down to the scorpion, grasping hold where he could while it moved forward with speed no naturally fueled creature could compete - the flying horse, Nemesis however, would bring the pyromancer upon their aim far sooner.

He could only hope to not be too far behind.

And that his efforts would amount to anything even remotely resembling what he sought to achieve.

Gerra Medja Kara Orin
Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk
@anyone else in the desert​

 

[Jane]

Ah, Nate. Nate-Nate-Nate. Nate was staying. That was good. That was very good. She wouldn't want him to miss this. Maybe he could contribute. Maybe they both could. All Tytus would need to do is betray them. How hard was that? Happened all the time in Cerak. Hell, she did it to the Eunuch. Tytus could betray them and maybe even the whole city could turn out to be tainted by dark magic or the touch of the Dark Ones and then Aivrid could BEGIN.

He'd morphed back into his human form. Oh. But he still had his dragon form ready to go. Sure he did. Of course he did.

Tytus bid Aivrid to follow and likewise extended an open, possibly-a-delicious-dagger-in-the-back invitation to the rest of them.

And Jane did follow after him, down those wide streets and toward that massive Palace, her cheeks puffed out some as tried to keep her smile from bursting forth with its full effervescence.

She heard the horns. Paid them little mind like she paid the wonders of Thagretis little mind now.

Nathanael McCallister Aivrid Tytus Amladeris Tir'Coatl

 

[Masaru]

​

"If we don't die from," Masaru yelled back as he hurried out, "I'll carve a face on that rock with my own talons."

He sheathed his sword as he made his way out of the moondial. The smell of fresh turned ground and dust filled the air. His blue eyed gaze followed the light of the still hanging moons, and he wondered if this was the last time he would see his hatchlings or his mates.

The cool night air met him as he leapt up the rocky ground and he made his way away from the scar and the dial. His shape twisted and grew again. Huge wings spreading wide and still dwarfed by comparison to the draconic deity before them. Masaru stared, eye wide with a mix of awe and fear as the elder dragon turned and looked east. This was well out of his depth and he suddenly envied the former astronomer with a rock for a head.

The feeling of safety still covered him but he couldn't help but recognize that the feeling was something external. A feeling being superimposed over what his eyes told him of the situation. However, he couldn't force himself to flee like sense told him he should whether curiosity or just frozen in awe he could only stare.

"You might need a ride to your ship, good pirate." He said not looking away from the giant dragon, "I think running from here is a poor option."

Méchanteau

 

[Zeri Rekani]

Zeri coughed. Coughed hard and wheezed meekly as she tried to excavate her mother from the debris which had entombed her. Pain like the pressing of dulled blades to one's skin flared from the growing bruises which now dotted her body in earnest. Dust clung to the blood-drenched side of her face. Her leg failed when she tried to stand and only on her second try did she find some manner of hazardous footing amidst the rubble and the sporadic quaking of earth.

She pulled away and tossed away and rolled away piece after piece after piece until the full upper half of her mother's broken body could be seen. Blood had adorned all of the pieces that Zeri had moved from her. Ma's face, horribly disfigured, from where something had asymmetrically crushed it.

Zeri grasped her mother's arm and pulled.

"Mama. I can get you to the shamans, Mama. To the medicine orcs, Mama. They can make you better. I can do it. I can do it! I can do it!"

Ma said nothing, and she did not move.

Zeri clenched her teeth and tears burst from her pinched eyes and she gave a holler of exertion and utter determination and tried with all of her might to liberate her mother from the confines of the debris. And indeed she started to make progress with all the meager strength her little body could summon--

Then came an earsplitting rupture of the earth that heralded a devastation on such a scale that it would be near incomprehensible to Zeri when she could lay eyes upon it. But the great sundering caused Zeri to lose her footing upon the ruins of her home and likewise her tenuous grip on her mother's arm and to stumble back and lose her balance and to fall down among the jagged and abrasive edges of the material that had in their once orderly configuration housed her life and everything in it. Cuts and scrapes were torn into being across her body in much the same vein as the bruises once she had come in contact with the Ash. Her own bow and quiver dug blunt trenches into her back and waist.

Zeri cried out plaintively, clutching at her right arm where a new trail of blood had been forged by a gash sliced open from her fall.

There was no sky.

Only dust.

Ash.

And a wing.

Zeri flinched hard as she lay among the rubble of her home and clamped her hands to her ears as the Roar sounded and her own scream was nothing to its sheer overpowering magnitude. Blood vessels burst in her ears and in her eyes from the tyrannical vibrations of such a great and terrible sound and from the pounding pressure of her already strained pulse.

A thin and spreading sheet of red reached like the contagion on her skin across the thin span of her sole eye with sight. Her lips were turning blue, her fingernails.

She turned her head to see. Her face a horrid divide of red and green.

And she saw the Dragon. The vast, unconquerable immensity of It. A horror that simply erased the Amalgamation from all consideration.

Her skin was paling. Growing cool. An intense and all-consuming pain gripped her chest and she felt extremely short of breath and the world was slipping from around her. Her bladder loosed itself and thus her loincloth was soiled.

It had destroyed her home. Everything and everyone she loved.

Vomit in her mouth she could not force from her side-turned head and so it dribbled in a pathetic display from the corner of her lips to the broken stone upon which her head was rested and streamed further down from there.

And she was insignificant to it.

Her quivering arms and legs lost the strength to even do such quivering.

Fear.

She could not breathe those rapid breaths and vomit at the same time. And so she began to choke.

Was joined.

Her eye began to roll up into its socket.

By hatred.

 

[Szesh]

“For those of wicked heart, the soul grows heavy and falls. Down, down to the depth of the world, where the Banished One awaits. With shearing teeth and burning flame, he will devour the evil forever and ever.”
​

-Draconian Scripture - Dron: The Devourer​

_____________________________________________________________​

The air was only getting thicker with ash. It stung at Szesh’s eyes and clogged his throat. He coughed heavily, and tasted iron in his mouth. His vision began to blur, and his wings ached… they should not ache after such a short time.

He would need to descend, to escape this ash. He had not found Zeri… she would need to make her own way now. Rooftops were crumbling, but if he could reach the walls maybe he could set down.

It was not to be, for the city gave another unspeakable heave. It looked as though he had been knocked down and sent hurtling to the ground, but he realized with fresh horror that he had not moved, and that the ground was rushing up to meet him. He flapped harder, rising further into the swirling dust. Bits of stone had mixed with it and began to glint off his scales, while some of the particularly sharp pieces sliced through.

The sound was deafening, and he could no longer tell where he was. The intense heat from the molten fissures produced towering thermals, and Szesh was pushed up and up. Then, with sudden and terrible force, he was sucked back down as the air rushed to replace the space Neha had occupied. He wrestled with the wind, pain everywhere, nearing the city wall, until a large airborne rock struck his wing, and he came spiraling down.

He awoke on his back. There were black spots in his vision, but he was able to push himself up. His wing bled, a finger of it broken, but he could stand.

Until he saw it.

Neha eclipsed the sky. Hellfire glowed from her eyes and from her maw, and when she roared, Szesh could feel his very soul being torn away. He fell to his knees in equal parts terror, despair, and reverence. He knew exactly who he was looking at, there could be no mistake. No being, mortal or god, could compare.

Dron had emerged. The ultimate evil. The end of all things. Was this why Draco had focused his eyes on the world? Had he known his brother would break free? Had he orchestrated it? Had Arethil displeased him? He stared, and his scar burned. The scales of his head and upper body had grown darker, bleeding from within as the ash had buffeted them. He coughed, and the ash within brought up more darkness.

Szesh fell to his knees. His soul was already bound to Dron, his exile had assured that… but he did not wish to go yet. And so he ran.

He could not remember ever feeling a fear like this. It numbed the pain in his wing as he took flight once more. He could not move steadily, but he could glide from crumbling roof to crumbling roof. His pride: forgotten. His exile: insignificant. The Devil had risen and he was its prey, and he fled. His vision was steadily blurring, and his coughing only grew steadier. When he fell from the rooftops he ran on foot, using his wings to propel himself over pitfalls and heaps of debris, half-felt agony every time.

He passed shops, homes, bodies... no, *a* body. Small and broken and green.

Zeri.

Broken by fear, he reached for the only familiar thing in his world. The child was limp, her breaths weak. He nudged her roughly, reason giving way to instinct. He roared at her to wake. Before seeing if it had worked, he scooped up the small orc and continued to run for the walls.

 

[Sepheron]

​

There had been silence for nearly hundreds of years. The deep and ruined city underneath the earth had been completely forgotten about through time and remained undisturbed. A decadent city lay in the middle of an expansive underground cavern, the buildings resembling a culture from a lost time that was completely extinct now. Even in the deafening silence vacant of life, there was a serene beauty that it carried and that was echoed from it to anyone who would be able to lay their eyes on it. But for those that were led with greed in their heart, that would not be the true beauty of it.

The streets of the dead city were completely covered in gold, mounds of coins, and other luxurious items that equaled more wealth than any one person could spend in their lifetime. The treasure spilled throughout the entire city and touched everything it could. It was the lost city of gold that had been tucked away peacefully. Until now. The ground shook with tremendous force as it sounded like the very planet itself was screaming from pain at being torn apart from the inside and out. The water that surrounded the city thrashed against the rock and against itself. The small hills of gold that had been collected jingled and cascaded in unison as small stalagmites fell from the roof and into their depths.

The peace had been disturbed and Sepheron awoke. Under one of the golden hills, an eye opened slowly and revealed the color of molten gold. The first thing he saw was the sea of gold that he slept in and at first thought for the first time in a long time, an intruder had finally discovered his city of gold. One of his wings blanketed in gold was suddenly lifted in the air, thousands of coins spilling off of it as he slammed the hook of it on the ground and dragged it to split the sea in gold in half. His eye whipped left and right as he started to shake off his slumber. Had someone finally found his city of gold?

Sepheron raised himself from underneath the weight of the gold, the coins once again dripping off of him like water as he shook his head. But he realized trespassers weren't waking him as he stared up at the ceiling of the cavern. The rock split and trembled as larger rocks were collapsing down onto the city and creating geysers of gold and debris. The golden dragon let out a roar that echoed throughout the tunnels as another stalagmite hit him before shattering. What has happened?

The ceiling continued to crack and split as rays of light for the first time touched the city. That's when Sepheron heard it, a roar that he heard like no other. It was almost a beckoning call and he determined it must have been the cause of all this. If he didn't leave, he would be crushed under the rock along with the city and he lifted both of his wings before propelling himself into the ceiling of the cavern. It gave in as he tunneled through, using his magic to loosen the rock and make it easier for him.

When he reached the surface, he erupted from it like a volcano itself with a deep and bellowing scream to accompany as a response to the one he heard. Stone and dirt exploded everywhere in replacement of ash as Sepheron spread his wings to their full extent and continued to propel himself in the air and followed where the roar came from.

It would only be a few minutes before the drow that stood before Neha would see Sepheron's shadow in the clouds until he dipped through them and nose-dived straight toward the ground. About halfway down, he spread out his wings once more and instead soared above them all as he covered them in his enveloping shadow and let out another roar. His golden scales reflected in the moonlight as he angled himself upward and back in the air above them.

Sepheron remained in the air until he found a broken crag that had been formed from Neha's awakening and hooked onto with his claw, making him spin momentarily around it until he pulled himself in and dug the claws of his hindleg into the rock, his tail wrapping around it as well. The drow that was on the surface was between him and Neha as the dragon only gazed up at her and stared as she dwarfed him. Sepheron's mouth didn't open but his unnaturally deep voice reverberated through the minds of the drow that were present and to Neha as he only said one word. "Neha."

 

[Kara Orin]

For Masaru, the song continued. Masaru would be best to go to goliath. Masaru would be best to tell Him of the world.

Maho and Celestia flew toward Drakormir. Alexios’s spear dug into the creases of Drakormir’s thick scales. The dragon seemed to not yet notice even as its roar ceased.

His head lowered. Wings retracted. Its gaze turned to straight to the east.

Then, Drakormir began to take steps. Slow, at first. Each would smash into the earth – breaking whatever volcanic ash was there and sending it into the air.

And even while the Empire’s caravans came from the east, Drakormir kept moving forward.

In his wake at the Forbidden City, the cracks in the Moondial and earth revealed underground tunnels. Their walls bore symbols of dragons etched in the sandstone.

---

The Elbion expedition already moved out to the west. Those traveling with Zier Xya Zythos heard Drakormir’s roar.

“Sweet Metisa!” one Maester Awano yelled.

Looking back to other students, Maester Awano could see fear develop in some of their young eyes.

“If any one of you feel like turning back, do so now,” Awano told them.

For the desert was before them.

A couple students actually took the offer to return to the College. Kara continued traveling with the expedition and was just next to Zier as Awano made that offer.

 

[Karanon Ulventhral]

​

Trekking through the tunnels and caverns of the Underrealm was not the best thing to be doing, even when they weren't prone to come crashing down upon you at any moment. But as Karanon found his way into a different path of tunnels, with Shaerra audibly following along on the walls of the caves as he went, he couldn't help but to notice the bodies of his kinsmen mostly crushed by falling rocks, continuing to appear along this journey.

He hadn't had much time to prepare for his flight from Zar'Ahal. And so his current possessions consisted a simple dagger, a hand mirror, a length of woven spider silk rope, a small herb satchel, a waterskin, and the clothing that he had left the city in. But near these dead men, and they were mostly males, were intact weapons. He had never been taught against looting the corpses of his fellows, nor did he feel any revulsion at the thought of it. If anything it seemed a waste to let potentially useful items rot in this tunnel. And so, he found himself searching which bodies could be searched for any useful items they might have. He collected three swords, a crossbow and bolts, a fire stone, and a small purse containing a few gems. Provided he didn't come up against hordes of the undead, or some other such threats on the way to surface world civilization, these weapons would be enough to turn a small profit and begin his new life as a surface merchant. Perhaps he could find some good deals on weapons up there and turn a profit importing to and from different cities. He had heard that it was far easier to trade in this manner on the surface than in the Underrealm.

Soon enough, however the road he had been following reached a dead end where once again, every thing had collapsed. "This is not good." He said as he looked towards Shaerra. "What's going on that's causing all of these tunnels to come crashing down? There had been a well armed patrol here. At least one, from the looks of it. So there must have been an exit nearby..." He paused to reflect. Two routes down. But there had been other openings to different passages along the way they had come. But the drow was unaccustomed to traveling so far out from Zar'Ahal. He had absolutely no idea where he was and had no map to look to for guidance along the way. Any of those other passages could lead to turnarounds, or routes to deeper territories of the Underrealm. It would be a pity to have left the drow city of Zar'Ahal for the surface only to end up in the drow city of Mehkran. Or some dwarven territory or another where he was likely to be seen as a spy or enemy.

In frustration he rhetorically asked Shaerra if she had any ideas. And the spider shifted her weight to the legs on one side in response. A gesture which gave the slight impression of a curious head-tilt as might be performed by creature whose heads were not also the main part of their bodies. After this gesture, however, the spider came down from the wall, approached Karanon, and then turned around and started off back down the corridor. Evidently, she did have an idea. And Karanon followed her easily, for he had always got on much better with spiders than he had with other drow. And it was possible that she had traveled far in these tunnels before they found one another. Just how it was that she could understand the intent behind his speech was a mystery to him. Had he been working with these animals for so long that he had a natural gift to communicate with them? Was he blessed by the spider spirits? Or was Shaerra a uniquely gifted kind of spider? Certainly most if the giant spiders he had known and trained and cared for possessed a remarkable amount of intelligence, and even empathy, but this was the first one he had known to ever seem as if she were mentally the equivalent of any drow. Perhaps her species was a uniquely intelligent one, who were smart enough on the whole that they kept themselves hidden from his kin.

Whatever the case might have been, he was following the little arachnid now. And she lead him through many twists and and turns, down this passage and then that one. She would even pause occasionally and turn around as if to ensure that her black skinned elven companion hadn't fallen behind. And He hadn't. Though with her eight legs and small size she seemed to be able to keep up quit a speedy pace.

When she finally stopped and crawled onto a wall, they were in the middle of a tunnel. Karanon raised an eyebrow before guessing that she sensed someone or something dangerous nearby. He loaded the crossbow he had found in the other chamber and knelt down, taking aim towards the side of the tunnel they had been heading towards. It was empty as far as he could see. But he knew that often animals could sense more than elves could, just as elves could sense more than humans. And so the drow searched the limits of his vision looking for any hostile entity to step forth.

Suddenly something pulled on his pant leg. Startled, he nearly jumped away before realizing that it was only Shaerra. She looked up at him and then crawled back onto the spot on the wall where she had been before. And then back down to him. And then back to the wall. Slowly he lowered his weapon and stood up as he realized that she wasn't afraid of a threat. She had found something. The drow walked over to the wall and examined it. As he did, Shaerra began to walk all over a bigger portion of it. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he then touched it. It felt like normal stone. But his little friend was having a fit running back and forth across it. Slowly he felt his way around the stone wall until he discovered that the section where Shaerra was crawling wildly felt different from the sections of stone on either side of it. It was colder than the rest of the wall and had a smoother texture.

It was a spy's door!

He had heard of these, though, he never thought much of it. Back in Zar'Ahal, the criminals used to tell stories about how the secret caste (spies, as surfacers would call them) created false doors in the tunnels leading to hidden caches of valuables or easy ways into the very hearts of royal abides withing surface world cities. Hoping that this was the second kind, Karanon searched across it for some opening mechanism. Nothing could be found on the door itself, and so he examined the wall to the right of the door. There he found a slightly protruding piece of stone just as cold and smooth as the door itself. He attempted to move the stone and that seemed to get Shaerra's attention as she quickly crawled over to him and watched. After some initial fumbling, the drow man was able to press the stone piece into the rest of the wall. At that, the door itself slowly began to sink downward. And the excited spider jumped onto Karanon's chest and then crawled around him onto his back. It seemed that leading had tired her out a bit. Or perhaps she just liked clinging to the crow's back.

The pair were soon making their way through this narrow passage. Soon rumblings could be heard again. And the world shook. The drow picked up the pace as he entered into a larger tunnel. Seeing that the ground was steepening including upwards at one end and downwards at the other, he coose to go up. Which was a very healthy decision. Because the very ground in the opposite direction soon started to fall away into Abyssal chasms of earth. The drow felt and heard this without looking back. The sounds and continued shaking of all that was around him was enough to put a hustle in his steps that he had rarely known before. Around him stalactites fell crashing down upon the floor of the cave. But he was either careful enough, or perhaps justnplain lucky enough to avoid them and their debris as he fled up into the unknown tunnels before him.

Sounds of the world itself roaring or wailing seemed to echo through the air. And as he leapt across a suddenly spreading rip in the ground, the terrifying noises seemed to grow louder. Like the shrieking of a thousand terrified ritual sacrifices mixed with stone grinding against stone. And as he ran ever onward and upward the shaking of the solid earth around him seemed to become a multiplicity of vibrations. As if furious gods were making war upon the surface with unfathomably great warhammers. Another. Stalactite crashed down in his path and he jumped left and leapt forward, nearly losing his balance as he ran onward. Onward and upward amid shaking and quaking and raging sounds as if the world were dying around him.

Soon he was greeted by the strangest site. Not that he had much time to think of it's normalcy. A small archway of an odd material, with a clear hallway behind it. A hallway which seemed to glow green. It seemed as good a goal as any, not to mention it was the only one available. Yet no sooner had he passed through the archway than a massive vibration shook everything and sent him flying forwards and onto the odd metalic floor face first. Shaking, and shaking. It seemed as though he was destined to be slowly beaten to death by the ground itself when suddenly the massive tremors and horrible noises died down. Still terrible yet vague noises echoed from, well, everywhere. And Still the world shook. Just not as violently anymore. And eventually even this shaking subsided.

Still the drow lay on the ground. Motionless, bruised, not that anyone could tell, and utterly dizzy. As he regained his sense slowly from the dizziness and the pain, he lifted his gaze and looked around for his eight-legged companion. Fear was creeping into his mind as he called out "Shaerra?"

And then a little spider leg tapped him twice on the back.

"You ok?"

Tow more taps. And He exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Ok..." He grunted as he lifted himself slowly back up onto his feet, dusted off his chest and legs and picked up the crossbow he had dropped in the massive earthquake. Looking around he noticed two things. One was that the way they had come from was completely caved in with rocks filling up the archway. The other was that this green-litten hall of strange metal matche exactly the descriptions he had heard of Bhathairk Undercity.

"Well, it looks like we're not quite to the surface yet. But at least we're out of the Underrealm."

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

Maho Sparhawk you simple-headed fool! What are you doing? Stop!

Faster

Don't throw away the power I've granted you!

Nemesis, Higher

Beside Gerra of Molthal, you could rule over Arethil!

I am the Fire of Lions! Obey me!
___________________________________
​

Maho could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The ashy breeze flying past his face, attacking his ears, filling up his lungs as he breathed it in. The small particles a barrage on his mask, the sounds of hitting metal reverberating inside his head.

Oh- FUCK THE MASK!​

He wrenched the golden implement from his face and threw it across him, spiralling wildly as it fell to the sandy floor. He could feel the wind on his face now, the tainted air forcing its way down his throat. The insurmountable turned its head, facing them. It began to slowly walk towards them now, its face a city, its retracted wings mountains, each step it took shook the wind and racked the earth. His blood was quickening now, facing the creature filling him to the brim with crazed fear.

The bag on the side of Nemesis flowed loose in the gust. He grabbed for the bag, only being able to catch a yellowed parchment, the tatters of his old staff and satchel thrown into the wind An old tattered letter he thought he'd forgotten. He stared at it, looking past the fog that filled the air, holding it in his clumsy, ill formed hand.

Spoiler: The Letter

When you told me you were a Sorcerer, I was so honoured to think you'd give up that life to be with me. But I know now that that can never be. You aspire to be so much more than a farmer's wife, and I can't be the one to rob you of that dream. I'll always love you, and I'm only doing this because of that, but I'm leaving to visit my mother in the south, and I've sold the home to that lovely couple we met in the Spine. Do you remember? I've left the flower you enchanted for me when we first met in this letter, so - eternally - you know my heart is yours.

Yours, always.
Alina.

A flower fell from the page, its life preserved, still full of magic he'd cast so, so many years ago. He brought it to his nose, and inhaled its sweet, spring scent. A look of determination filled his face. Courage bled into his eyes. He felt colour flush back into his face, as if life had been returned from where it had been vacant for so long.

Stay with me. I need your courage. Look after me.

Death stares at me from the Horizon.

The etchings on his skin flared up in red, its crimson colour matching that of the stars that murdered the sky. Muttering the words that came so unnaturally to him, he felt the fire build in his fingers, the heat glow in his eyes, the inferno building up inside. He chuckled.

Fire against a dragon. That's funny.

The fear seemed to all but leave him, laughter on his breath, the smell of ash and flowers in his nose, and the thought of Alina. The belongings of an old life, his mask, his letter, his staff, and his bag, sacrificed to the sand.

As he poured every single drop of power he had into his hands, he suddenly felt it peak. He leant down to Nemesis,

"Goodbye, old friend." He said, as he leapt from the saddle, fire underneath his feet, propelling him towards the most colossal beast on the face of Arethil.

He let out a scream, his rough, damaged voice crying out. An ocean of flames plumed from his arms, exploding like a sun, its pure heat scorching whatever muddy air it came into contact with. He could feel blood trickle from his mouth as he pushed his body to the absolute limit, struggling as he sent the embers of his life propelling towards the beast. Its colour lit the dunes, and shone against the remains of the crumbling city, screaming across the sky like a comet. He flooded the fire with his own soul, burning the air with his own flesh. Its noise rattling along side the steps that quaked the ground.

Maho's Dragon against Arethil's.​

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

Walking from Elbion to the desert sounds like a daunting task. Two things make this exhibition easier. Elbion isn't that far away and two is that he's walked futher distances. He's used to it, plus he's never been on a horse and they scare him. Although, going to the desert sounds like an advantage for this particular mage. Quartz.

● ● ●
​

They wanted to find out what had happened and, considering the SIZE of what's happening, that didn't take long. The students that refused the invitation were smart. Zier would've done the same if he knew what he'd witness.

He had never seen anything so large, and that doesn't even do it any justice. There probably isn't a word in common tongue or elvish that could describe what this beast is. A Dragon? A God? He's read about dragons. They're beautiful and fascinating to him. Hell, be even designed his armor to resemble one. He knows they're massive, but THIS?

Yep.. okay THAT is a god welp
whythefuckdidIcomehere...

This is far above his pay grade. Well, he doesn't really get payed for anything, but if he did, 50 ships with a hull filled with gold wouldn't be enough to compensate for this shit. Seeing something of this magnitude is certainly humbling, and it seems to instantly take all your fears away. Scared of heights? Horses? A giant orc? the dark? Fuck it all now. It's meaningless compared to this dragon. Every challenge or thing Zier has fought and feared suddenly became insignificant to him. He's always tried to stay grounded and not ever assume he's stronger than a person. In fact, he assumes that he's the weakest on some occasions. Although, that was for people.

This is not a person.

This is a dragon, larger than your typical dragon.

Zier is petrified.

He's never had a panic attack before but he has now. This thing could step on him and that'd be the end of it. No contesting it. It probably wouldn't even know that it stepped on someone.

Then, he looked up at it and saw someone trying to fucking attack it. A Pyromancer, and through his display of power was impressive, it doesn't ease his mind at all. Do they have a death wish? IT CAN SWALLOW YOU!

Just looking at that person take on the dragon unnerved him. His breathing started to quicken and he could feel his hands trembling. He could cry. This thing could easily destroy Arethil and who could stop it?

Yep.. back to Elbion. Lets go. Now.

He glanced back at Kara Orin and the other brave students that he traveled here with. He'd feel terrible if he just turned around and left them. He looked back at the Dragon and he started laughing in an anxious, apprehensive manner.

"W- w- WE need to leave..- It's.-" He can barely speak properly, and it caused his to unravel in his short, uneasy laughter once again.

 

[Gerra]

Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk Medja Ashuanar Martillius Rex​

The further the imperial force moved along the caravan road, the greater the desolation became. Hundreds of frightened refugees crossed their path, fleeing their villages along the caravan route to go south. The closer they drew to the belching plumes of ash, the worse the sights became.

Men, women, and children covered in ash stumbled along, with hacking coughs, or lay by the roadside, sitting with head in hands and sobbing.

"They look sick," Gerra rumbled to Marcillius Rex, the wizard in the cart who was a newcomer to his court.

Before he could contemplate this further the world ended.

An earthquake of cataclysmic proportions shook the ground. Horses reared. Riders fell. Gerra collapsed to one knee inside his chariot.

In the distance, a colossal nightmare rose in the shape of a dragon, but this was no dragon.

This was an awakened god.

"MAHO NO!"

Too late. The sorcerer took to the skies on his winged mount. Gerra watched him rise higher and higher, a speck against the sky.

Gerra knew what he was after. Knew he could never stop the man or what he was after: a death that absolved him of his guilt.

All around him, Immortals and Sipahi cowed. Gerra looked at them. Felt their fear. His own heart beat out a rapid tattoo of panic in his chest, threatening to burst free. He looked back up at the mountainous being looming in the distance.

He could not let it destroy everything he had built.

"Viziers, to me," his voice rang out like a thunderclap to Medja and Ashuanar, who already had put themselves into motion. "Together."

A ball of fire as bright as the sun suddenly illuminated the sky and Gerra had to shield his eyes.

Maho.

Gerra lowered his hand.

"FOR THE EMPIRE!" he roared, then lashed the reins of his chariot, urging his golden stallions into motion.

 

[Méchanteau]

Daring to hop and leap where other men would have tread carefully, Méchanteau and his headless crony kept a brisk pace despite the added weight. The lich noted the revealing draconic glyphs all around him, doubtlessly ripe with delectable cursed knowledge and that sweet thing called treasure. Sweeter still was the prospect of a continued existence, as well as the carcass of a dragon to command. Whether it be the colossus outside or the lizard morphed as man, the skeleton was set on leaving the City more powerful than what he had come. And a catastrophe like this was bound to have made a jaunty death toll already, yes? And with the kings and armies entombed all over the place, their numbers alone... Bah! Fat lot of good those numbers had done him before, when that cretin swarm came out leaking like pus off a cadaver! Speaking of which, where were they? Hopefully stirred and boiled by the quakes and volcanoes, the bastards.

"I WILL HOLD YOU TO THAT!" he shouted at the dragon-man, wondering if his carvings would make the stonehead runic and a collector's piece - there were buyers for even that, would you imagine? At last outside of the Dial and not one bit calm, Méchanteau took in Drakomir in all of his majesty. "He's coming this way." he stated the obvious, more to help himself process the sheer girth of the thing than add some keen insight "He's coming this way and he looks angry." sickly green fog poured out of Méchanteau's nostrils, taking the shape of wailing souls. Each took to the skies in opposite directions, set to alert the Fleet of Twelve. With a steady hand on the silvery scabbard, the lich could not tell what the best course to take was. "Or perhaps he is just hungry. Good thing I'm all bones." he wheezed and nearly slapped his knee from the socket, but only after jamming the rock again on the thrall's neckhole. A bit of levity before a tragic, senseless end.

"Hey, see if he talks to you." he tugged at Masaru's cuff, fond as he was of addressing people to their face rather than be extremely rude as the changeling insisted on being "Ask if blowing up everything everywhere was really necessary, maybe we can make an appeal to reason." Not that Méchanteau thought the elder dragon would have much care for it, as there were fools pelting its hide and in return being handily ignored. How could something so huge be dealt with? And was that... fire? Against a dragon? Damnation to all, it was as stupid as trying to poison a ghost!

Perhaps the godling was not coming their way, perhaps they were simply on his way to the Moon Dial. Made enough sense for the lich, what with dragon glyphs it was perhaps even a roosting nest. If so, there could be eggs around the place, ready to be stolen and made into thralls and omelette! Not that he would reveal this little plan to any of the present company. "Worst comes to worst, can I bring you back and ride you? I promise to leave your soul alone." as alone as he could stomach, at least. Long-lived critters like these always had the tastiest essence.

 

[Celestia]

Fear had no place here. There was no time to dwell on it. Courage was ever so fleeting, and it had to be captured in the split second it appeared. Celestia had only experienced the negatives of the surface world thus far, but she was too stubborn to give up then.

And then something happened to fundamentally shatter her opinions and understanding of the surface dwellers. Celestia turned to see a man high in the sky, diminutive next to the massive dragon. He ventured closer than she even dared to allow her wings to carry her.

As a healer first and foremost, she could feel the pain in her guts as the man unleashed an unnatural fire from his hands. He had catapulted himself from his mount, careening through the air as his very soul poured out into the flames that would spread over the dragon.

Celestia didn’t know if it had done any damage but she dove forth without giving it further thought. The heat was searing, but she had her blade drawn, determined to not let the man’s foolish attempt go to waste. The nature of man would be one she would never understand, but she felt a lot less alone being here now.

The blade in her hand would attempt to cut through the dragon where the man’s fire had brushed. It was a two punch concerted attack that would hopefully damage the dragon. Celestia would graze her blade along for many feet before she dove through ash and fire and collided directly with the man to take him forcefully away from the dragon.

Her wings had caught some of the fire, tears spilling from her eyes as she winced through the pain. Charred and tattered feathers tossed into the air, shedding behind her as she flew. She could smell burned flesh from the human, and the rancid stench of decay assailed her senses. Was this a man she was carrying or a corpse left to rot for a thousand years? She didn't know whether he was alive or dead, but she poured her energies to begin applying her healing abilities, her magic enveloping him from all sides.

Not today. Not if she could help it.

Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk Kara Orin

 

[White Swallow]

The tunnels by the moondials.

By the time the last of the horses were dug out, the assembly of soldiers was well in line. The roar of the colossal dragon had ceased for just a moment. Soheil was observant enough to point out other beings fluttering about its massive presence.
The impromptu sand-swimming lesson was not welcome in the slightest.

»That is something, someone, that will have to be dealt with at some point,« grunted Morad, perhaps if they were further up the mountains, they could've gotten those massive iron bolts with which the giant eagles were hunted. They had little reason to get into a bull's pasture and smack it with a whip.

Zakariyya only shook his head. » Observe and let it be, just because it exists, there is no reason to have it cease living all of the sudden.« The man then corrected his turban and saddled up his russet mare, leading her onward, and with that, the rest of the collective warbands. The White Swallow hurried forward towards his higher-up. »Zakariyya, Zakariyya, seems as if the ground has opened up, I urge you that we inspect it.«
»Is it so? « He gazed towards the deep scars, the sight soon enticing him.

The many horses now stood before where the earth had split, revealing beneath the handiwork of, what they assumed, people.
»Quite intricate, those snakes are.« »Those are dragons, you birchwood,« Bantered two soldiers.

»Not many things are by pure chance, it's clear as day what awoke the dragon, but why, and what of these? « The white swallow gazed at Zakariyya who only gazed back into the tunnels.
Probably thinking.

Lets go in.