The Great Ones The Great Ones Beneath

[Tereth Adathar]

Tereth watched as the room began to light and glow the closer he drew to the spear. It only served to further mount his tension as he approached the pedestal. By the time he had reached the spear, most of the room was glowing. It was clear that there was something building.

He looked at the words on the wall, but the text was unknown to him. He was sure it would mean something to others, but even without reading them, it gave him a sense of foreboding and doom.

Can any of you read that? he asked hopefully, but not expecting a "yes."

When he touched the spear, something snapped. Were it not for the fact that he was wary of traps and his years of training to fight creatures much larger than him - and therefore a necessity to be quicker than those who were stronger than him - he likely would have been done in by the contraption. Or perhaps it was simply fate. A roll of the proverbial dice that had protected him from whatever dangers lay there. His hand withdrew like a striking snake and he used his sword to scoop the spear from its pedestal before taking it into hand.

Then the chaos began to ensue. The ruins stirred and rumbled, and though he didn't know what caused it, he knew he was in peril.

Run! he shouted to the soldiers nearby and began to do the same himself. With a tap of another rune and a muttered word of power, his movements began to speed. He covered the distance more quickly, casting looks upward to watch for rocks beginning to fall or anything emerging.

White Swallow

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Things weren't looking very good. The man seemed to be capable of withstanding any weapon, magic, or attack. It was clear that they weren't going to defeat him in battle as he somehow managed to snatch the dagger out of the air even while deflecting the arrow.

She backed off the man before the blast of fire erupted. The distance helped her barrier to remain secured against the fire, but it still nearly knocked her from her feet. It scorched several others around her and then the man clad in black simply strode away as casually as the world.

She would have liked to simply drop the mountain on top of him, but that wasn't a possibility right now. Instead, her eyes were drawn up as the dragon took to the skies. Its wings were like a hurricane before the fire came down. It consumed the town, screams echoed over the town as those who remained burned in an unquenchable.

 

[Vyx'aria]

Vyx was thrown back by the force of the fire from the warrior. Her armor melted away from the fire, and she quickly had to fling it off before it completely destroyed her flesh. The heat was searing, and the bright fire from the dragon burned her sensitive eyes.

“FALL BACK!”

She shouted to her soldiers in drow, dazed from the attacks. All she could feel was pain and all she could hear were cries of the dying. Where would they fall back? Did their home even exist anymore with all the damage that reverberated from Bhathairk Undercity? Vyx slowly got to her feet, stumbling back as she slowly turned to watch the dragon’s champion walk.

As he passed close to her, she asked a question just aloud for him to hear.

“What do you want? What do you have to gain from destroying those that may do your Queen’s bidding?”

Vyx knew there was no more fighting with the weapons they had. She looked down at her broken blade and cursed to herself. She glanced up at Zathria and the others, giving the hand signals to withdraw from the fight and explore intact portions of the Undercity. Perhaps there were clues on the origins of such monsters from whence they rose.

Zachariah

 

[Zeri Rekani]

A jolt.

And Zeri's heart stirred, shed now of the irregularity in its beat that had been brought on by her shock. Her shoulders shivered and her arms trembled and her legs shook and with a shudder she lifted her limp head some and she coughed and drew in desperate gasps of air until the long moment of her waking and her brush with death passed. Her breathing slowed, from hyperventilation to the exhausted inhalations one took after a taxing sprint and finally to something with a semblance of stability. Some manner of color had returned to her lips and her fingernails.

She tried to open her left eye. Still could not. Still the sclera of her right was tainted red with the blood of the burst vessels within. Many of her woes still afflicted her, even in this slim fortune of reprieve.

Awareness intruded upon the simple purity of waking; details of the world became stark in her mind. She was not on the ground. She was flying. Being carried. Beyond the scaly arm which held her and the downward flap of the wing intermittently blocking her view she could see the fiery green purging of Bhathairk below. Flames channeled through the ruins, running wild and rampant. Destroying with wanton callousness the city she called home and the people she called her tribe. Its sheer cruelty was incomprehensible to her, even the simple question of "Why?" shriveling in her mind before the sight of this act so wicked that it seemed a special exception even among others of its terrible kind.

Zeri closed her right eye and winced, as if the mere sight itself caused her manifest agony. And she opened her eye and looked up. Seeing Szesh. Seeing the emergence of the sky as the haze of raw devastation thinned with distance.

She spoke. Her voice quiet--unsure if he could hear her. Said, "It's all real...isn't it?"

Her bottom lip curled down.

"It wasn't a dream."

Mama.

Her voice cracked.

"It's all real."

Szesh

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

The Javelin. The Celestial Strike. Useless.

Or so it seemed.

He drew himself back, bringing himself alongside Lazule, though he left more than enough room for his persistent assault. Erën too loosed another attack, following after two or more of the slayer's Javelins. But, like before, it proved to be for naught.

Lazule spoke words of his heart:

"Know that the poison of cruelty cannot..."
​

And the dragon's head turned toward them.

"...Lazule..." he said... far too quietly.

Then with a great sound the dragon flapped its giant wings and caused the elf to slide backward. Erën knelt, grasping at the ground to steady him in place during the chaos of its ascent.

His eyes followed it up...

--most fragile. Here you find the signature of the Wicked, the Corrupted, the Monster, and this delineation..."

The green flame spewing forth from the Black Dragon's mouth reflected in the golden visor of Lazule's helm...

"...is absolute."

And as the fire fell upon the city, he admitted that Lazule's words were true. Indeed, terror and death were this creature's only fruit, and it was as poison to life itself. A poison to be cleansed.

But soon, the fire would be upon them and as Lazule conjured his shield of light Erën too erected a shield. He slammed his sword into the ground, and up from below rose a wall akin to fractaled glass came up over and in front of him to defend him from the flame.

And it did, for a time.

But quickly the fire licked at its edges and threatened to spill past like a flood. It reached around and burned at his clothes, threatened his hair and skin, and rose his temperature quickly.

The Pillar, the shield he had summoned up before him, began to crack. With the pressure and heat and of the dragon's flame bearing hard against it, and the sheer might of the beast, there was only so much his magics could do. As he held, the crack grew, and Erën fought with all his might and all his concentration to maintain it, ignoring the flames now dancing across bare skin on his arms, his side, and even his face.

Hair and skin burnt.

His strength began to waver.

But still, he held.

Lazule | Neha​

 

[Zarko]

Zier Xya Zythos felt a small tug on the hem of his tunic.

"Fear not, gentle elf."

The diminutive form braced next to him unwrapped a silken turban with truly masterful dramatic timing.

"I, Zarko the Magnificent, will protect you from this heinous beast!"

It had been a simple enough matter to slip in among the Elbion expedition's rank and file. Zarko Zapspark knew little of the Forbidden City, but disaster created the opportunity for profit. 'Tomb raiding' was such a loaded term, the disgraced wizard preferred to think of it as cultural redistribution.

Although Zier had made his opinions on this conflict abundantly clear the tiny gnome seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that he was preaching to the wrong choir. He staggered through the gale towards the mother of all paydays. Those scales...just one was likely worth its own weight in gold.

Zarko steadied himself before clapping his hands together, contorting them into a variety of elaborate gestures.

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet!" he rattled off a string of nonsense, "Consectetur adipiscing elit!"

 

[Kara Orin]

Underneath the Forbidden City, the mechanism missed Tereth’s arm. It still clamped down on just air. The dry needle still emerged and poked several times at nothing.

The spear now in Tereth’s grasp maintained a dirty gold look. Its tip smelled of iron and had deep, dark crimson stains. Runes were etched into the weapon. Two runes were prominent on the tip – blood and pull.

Words illuminated in the middle of the pedestal in the ancient language.

[FAILED NO BLOOD]​

Instead of falling rocks, the lids for the sarcophaguses lining the edge of the chamber dropped. The stone shattered as it collided with the ground. Dehydrated corpses shambled out of the stone coffins. Some wielded swords, some wielded spears. None of their weapons seemed as exotic as the spear on the pedestal.

The mummies would approach everyone within the ruins. Their goal was not to kill or eat anyone but to subdue everyone and confiscate the spear.

---

Kara witnessed the dragon’s outburst. The sudden sandstorm. And the dragon’s shadow bolting away and toward the east. The direction of Elbion.

“Was there never a chance to stop it?!” Kara questioned with panic upon her face as the storm drowned out her words.

The mage drew her sword and stuck it in the sand to try to keep herself from flying away. Unfortunately, moving sand made it incredibly difficult to draw any runes. Fortunately, Zier casted a spell to root Kara and the others from Elbion.

By coincidence, the storm began to subside after Zarko said his words. In reality, the dragon not being there to fuel the sandstorm led to its short life.

Toward the east, those left behind and still alive could see a moving dust cloud heading toward the horizon. The gust from the dragon’s wings picked up the sand behind Him as He headed toward Elbion.

Maester Awano emerged from being lightly buried to ask, “What happened?! Where’s the beast?!”

The Empire Elbion College

 

[Tereth Adathar]

Tereth swore loudly as he realized that this was going to be an issue. The dead were rising, and the spear was being stubborn. The fact that a spear could be stubborn was a new concept to him, but the stabbing needle combined with the crimson colors on the spear gave him an idea of the situation and the proverbial score.

Still not trusting that the needle wasn't poisoned, he ran his own sword along his hand, allowing blood to flow free from his finger and drop onto the spear and the needle. This, of course, wasn't done pristinely or calmly. The stirring of the sarcophagi was more than disconcerting, and the creatures that emerged from it were a clear threat to him.

He attempted to take the spear once more, this time hoping the blood did the trick, but if not, he would do what he had to do in order to ensure he wasn't surrounded by the undead. If there was a bright side, it was that his blade was designed to defeat monsters and creatures bound by magic. He hoped it would fair the same against the undead.

 

[Kara Orin]

As soon as blood touched the spear, the runes glowed red and activated. An invisible force pulled any drop of blood that touched the spear to the tip of its point. The speed at which the spear yanked blood was intense. Repeated attempts would result in the same thing. Were the spear to plunge into the flesh of a living being, it might drain the body faster than any vampire could. It was fortunate that Tereth Adathar dropped blood onto the spear rather than cut his own flesh on it.

And when blood touched the needle, it ceased movement and retreated into the pedestal. After a couple seconds, the yellow words replaced the red ones from earlier.

[MAY THEIR BLOOD POUR FROM THIS SPEAR TO SEAL THE TYRANT]​

The claw from the pedestal retreated as well. The words faded. And the mummies ceased all movements and just stood in place...

 

[Sepheron]

​

As Sepheron expected, the javelin and the beam of light did practically nothing to Neha. It seemed the man then turned his attention to him and hurled another weapon at him. The dragon ducked his head, the javelin scraping his golden ones as sparks flew off his neck as it went past and into the air. Sepheron whipped his head toward Lazule, the black scales that weren't encrusted with gold rippled with anger as he turned his attention to the two. You dare raise a weapon against me?! His voice exploding into the man's mind.

Sepheron launched himself off the crag he was on but instead of soaring into the air, he nosedived straight into the dirt and dug through it immediately. The earth gave in and he submerged his body beneath the earth as Neha's flame would ignite the entire landscape. As the two stood in place to defend themselves against the green flame, the dragon continued to tunnel towards them as the ground would rumble as well.

When Neha's flames finally died down, that's when half of Sepheron's body would erupt from the ground with it mostly being his neck and head as rocks and pebbles fell from his scales. Fire dripped from his mouth and it was only a second before he spread his jaw and let the inferno spill forth and collide into their shield of light as it was a constant stream of flames. It wouldn't allow them any moment of reprieve as the flames would engulf the area around them. The dragon spoke into the minds of the two as he continued to let the fire erupt from his mouth, You will be nothing but ash.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas, Lazule

 

[Tereth Adathar]

Tereth watched in fascination as the blood was yanked free from his hand and pulled to the tip of the spear, drawing it in in such a way that he had a feeling it would draw the life force straight out of any creature it touched. He glanced at it, wide eyed and thankful that he hadn't allowed it to cut his own skin. This wasn't how he fancied going out of this world.

With the spear in one hand and his own sword in the other, he turned to make for the door. He wasn't sure how the soldiers might have been fairing against the stirring creatures, but he turned ready to face them now. Except they weren't moving any longer. They seemed placated by the odd blood sacrifice he had given, but he wasn't going to press his luck.

He moved quickly toward the door, watching and hoping that they weren't going to move any longer. If he was not impeded further, he would head back down the hall he had come through and head out of the crack to survey the destruction the dragon had wrought.

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

There was a lot of things going on. His ears slightly ringing, the sand bombarding his body and the dragon flying away overhead. So when he felt a small tug, he snapped his head around in that direction as his body tensed in a defensive manner, not that he'd be able to do anything if it actually was a threat since his hands are occupied.

"Fear not, gentle elf."

This did absolutely nothing to ease his fright. It only told him that he's not a threat to him. When he managed to fully open his eyes he saw... an elf? drawf? He has no idea. His ears had finally calmed down so he removed his hands from them.

"I, Zarko the Magnificent, will protect you from this heinous beast!"

"..." Is he joking? Is this actually more of that aforementioned bravado? Zier is taller than this guy, and that heinous beast is... Do I even have to say it?

He reached a hand out to Zarko as he approached the dragon, only to be stopped by the sand he used to root himself to the ground. "WHAT ARE Y-" He stopped what was going to be a very provocative, profanity-laced scolding when Zarko started to form some sort of hand signs as he spoke a strange language. This encounter is somewhat amusing as it caused a smile to form across his face, only to vanish as he was reminded of the current situation. The language didn't sound like common tongue at all nor elvish.

The sandstorm started to relent shortly after, and considering the timing Zier thought-- for a very small second-- that this stranger had something to do with it. The dragon flying off, taking some of the dust with it, proved this man did nothing.

The sand around his legs, and everyone else's, loosened, falling limp to the ground as he sighed in relief. He can finally regain some of his composure and process, as Maester Awano asked, What happened.

He's already exhausted and terrified from this whole ordeal, so he could only give a short answer. "Sandstorm... it- It's flying somewhere else, thankfully..." He doesn't know where that flying person is; he'd love to yell at them. He turned to Zarko, taking a long sigh before speaking. "I love the courage. Really, it's nice, but it'd probably be best if you didn't approach that dragon. Attacking it is wor-"

Wait, where exactly was that dragon heading? He turned around, and to his horror, he saw it flying where the exhibition departed from. "Fuck... FUCK! It's flying towards Elbion!" He doesn't necessarily believe in the gods, but right now, he's praying to every fucking deity that it's destination is not Elbion. It'll level everything in it's anger!

 

[Celestia]

Celestia had no chance to see the impacts of her attempt on the dragon. She simply knew that it managed to enrage the beast. The great wings expanded and powerful winds sent her flying back. She spun in circles, having trouble orienting herself from the massive blast. Her wings had been damaged from fire and took more effort to carry her weight.

She couldn’t see anything through the sandstorm, and she couldn’t even make out the thousands of soldiers that were enveloped in it. The giant, hulking form of the dragon rose into the sky and began to move away from her. It left devastation in its wake, the sands threatening to swallow up and bury everything in its path.

The Avariel sailed through the air, spinning out of control as her wings failed her. She flew until she languidly glided over the sands and dropped to the ground with a thud. Celestia landed face down in the sand near the Forbidden City and above the ruins.

Seconds ticked by and she didn’t move, her wings gently drooping at her sides.

 

[Zarko]

Zarko ignored the elven mage's protests, mistaking his dumbfounded frustration for concern mixed with adoration. He continued his elaborate pantomime until the full force of the sandstorm washed over him. The gnome hacked up mouthfuls of sand. By a stroke of coincidence the dragon's furor subsided shortly after. He stared down at his fingers in momentary shock before twisting his mouth into a crooked grin.

"No need to thank me!" Zapspark swaggered back to the Elbion wizards, "Even a dragon knows when it's met its match."

The gnome stopped listening to Zier Xya Zythos at 'courage'. He puffed up his chest in a display of bravado. Of course he realized that his paltry magic was no match for such a monstrosity, but big battles were a messy business. Accounts conflicted and the bard's tales almost never completely aligned with reality. Even the shrewd scholars of Elbion would be hard pressed to conclusively disprove that the Magnificent Zarko had saved them all. Not when there were so many 'witnesses' to the contrary.

"All part of the plan my intrepid assistant," he patted Zier gently on the thigh, "Please, no autographs. Okay maybe one or two."

"Fuck... FUCK! It's flying towards Elbion!"

"It is?" the magician whirled around, "I mean...of course it is! Exactly as I intended."

He used his acute powers of deduction to sense that the elf was perhaps skeptical.

"All will be revealed!" he exclaimed with a flourish of his cape, "Not even dragon gods can comprehend the machinations of...Zarko the Magnificent!"

 

[Medja]

​

"Striking that thing's underbelly seems prudent. Perhaps if the rest of the army can provide support we can get a lucky shot in on--" Medja's words were drowned out by the deafening cry of Drakormir. Clearly the behemoth was capable of being hurt, however wasted the opportunity to do so was now.

It seemed that the Empire wouldn't get the chance to strike at the draconic titan, at least not this minute. The goliath spread its wings and ascended, much to Medja's shock. How a creature that large could possibly get airborne was beyond her understanding, but if it could fly, that meant it could likely travel anywhere on the planet in mere minutes. If it wanted to come back, it wouldn't take long.

Far more concerning, for the moment at least, was gale-force winds it had stirred up in its ascent. A sandstorm unlike any she'd seen before was rapidly bearing down on the Imperial army. Losses would be inevitable, even catastrophic, if something wasn't done...so Medja did something about it.
"Hold tight, dear Sun!"
The sorceress leapt from her place on Akrep's back and slammed her feet into the ground below, then slapped her palms to the ground. She breathed deep and prepared herself for the exertion that would follow.

Closing her eyes, Medja focused, extending herself into the ground and sensing wherever Imperial feet fell upon the ground. Countless stone barriers began to split forth from the ground over the entire range of the Empire's forces, thick slabs that would weather through the wind and sand and provide shelter for any who stood behind them. She even raised one much larger than any of the others directly in front of Akrep, insuring that their potential key to victory would go unharmed.

 

[Tenrof]

​

The expulsion was violent, hurried. Like sucking poison from a wound he was banished from the hidden domain and back into the land of the living, mind momentarily stumbling as he made sense of his surroundings. But through the haze impeding his thoughts he knew his job was done, for the moment. Kouri and its new companion were at the Serpent's mercy, but they would endure. Hopefully.

The concept was quite amusing, a word he had been using quite often in the short amount of time he had taken active action in this world. Hope. Fleeting, and mired in false assumptions and expectations.

But now to focus on more important matters. Mainly, the supermassive dragon that was now flying off into the horizon. If his topography was still correct, despite his current addling of the mind, that thing was headed for... Elbion. This was most certainly unfortunate. He had last recalled the Voidheart practitioner Focraig'Diin being in that exact location. He hadn't a doubt even this wyrm would find a mage like that one a most irritating, if not even fatal, thorn in its proverbial side, but a death against such a titan was not what he envisioned as an end for that mage.

The mage had far more potential than a simple dragon-slayer, even as large as this one was.

He was still kneeling, around a patch of sand and earth unmarred by the devastation. Rising to his feet, he assessed the situation with more scrutiny. To the edges of the desert still stood the armies of the sand empire Amol-Kalit, but now about to weather the literal storm that appeared. He could only sigh. Such a force, generated by the simple act of this wyrm flapping its wings.

Size mattered, in this case. Whomever argued otherwise he would readily show them this spectacle. He would leave those desert armies be. Such a force would surely carry countermeasures. He would have to find the means of taking down this monster of ivory scale and fang instead. Not below, where Hserik dwelled - nay, that one was not this dragon's prison. Something else. No mere binding of flesh, bone, and magic could keep such a scale contained. Even if it could, it would have been set free even earlier than this auspicious time.

The next action would tax him heavily - It had been centuries since. He was rusty.

He took a breath, then two. Then three. His hat fluttered in the raging gales, but while a mortal would be flung like a leaf in the wind, he stood his ground. Mismatched eyes, a left circle and a horrid right vertical scar, flared up in their light.

"Releasing conceptual filter restraints. Levels One, Two, and Three."

The information surge nearly overloaded his brain. His form faded in and out of reality as his concentration faltered, unable to contain his physical form in the World.

Sandwindmagicearthterrorhorrorscalesfirewrathfangs--

NOT YET.

Honing his focus past the overwhelming flow he continued.

"Recognition of Threat acknowledged. Commencing Aegis Invocation."

Then just as quickly, the mental flood stopped. Even before the restraints he had felt the World's information dig into his brain, a nagging itch, a mild migraine. Now even that was entirely absent. His intent surged, and the winds blew around him, an invisible dome that slowly shrunk until it wrapped around his form like a second skin.

"Ability restrictions lifted until intended target has been neutralized and rendered silent."

Now, he would begin. Seeing a form fly by, knocked astray by the dragon's flight he blurred. He failed to catch this winged human, but he managed to land by her side. Eyes shut, clearly unconscious. He would address this issue. All hands would be needed to face the threat.

Necolumerce amulet set on her head, and a finger pointed on her heart, he bode her to rise, infusing her with the energies of eager souls, souls that would heal the mind, spirit, and body.

Celestia, if I may?

 

[Karanon Ulventhral]

Shaerra got up slowly. She was very disoriented, but quickly found that she had fallen into a hole, as light came down through into the little cavernous space formed of fallen buildings around her. She searched around and confirmed it to be an empty place. No one and nothing else was here. And so she climbed up a wall and walked across the ceiling, exiting through the hole.

Heat greeted her. Fire had caused the light to go through the opening she had fallen into. And fire was everywhere around. Running, she went this way and that trying to avoid the heat and the flames. She ran across an open space and used a fallen wooden pole which had once been a part of some city something as a bridge over flames. After she crossed the kettle bridge, however, it caught fire too. There would be no going back that way.

The cat-sized spider ran through the paths that were passable and did her best to avoid the heat. There waa no way to know which way to go. Until she had gone far and started to smell her friend. Following the scent, she soon came upon the Karanon's unconscious form. In a panic, the spider jumped onto him and crawled back and forth over him. He didn't move. So she went up to his head and hit it with one of her legs to try and wake him up. Still nothing. Then getting by his side, she began to use her front legs to try and push his body. That wasn't so easy, so she instead used two more legs. That started to get him moving slightly. But it took six legs to finally roll the drow over onto his stomach.

He was heavier than anticipated, but Shaerra could perhaps roll him away to a safer place. Now, if only she had any idea which way to go. Flames were all around and there was no gaurantee that one way wouldnt lead right into the fire. But she rolled the passed out drow over again. And then again. Already she was getting tired. But she literally pushed on. This little spider was going to get her friend away from the burning place. Even if she had to call on all of her strength to do it. And as it was getting harder to breathe and harder to push, it might require exactly that.

 

[Alexios Marxan]

This, Alexios decided, was going to make a great story on day provided he managed to live long enough to tell it. Being there for the awakening of a dragon the size of a city was something that a handful of people could say they experienced. What even fewer of them could say was that they had clung onto said dragon while it ignored attack after attack.

But the one thing that might just be unique? Was being the one who rode the dragon as it took to the air in a feat of strength of wing that was against all known laws of physics. There was no way something this heavy, this dense, would be able to become airborne even with it's impressive wingspan but, well, here he was clinging desperately to the scales of a dragon that was rising into the sky.

Ending the magic he had been intending to use to blind the dragon, Alexios instead used it to warm himself as he was taken higher into the sky. It wasn't warm in the desert right now and altitude was making it even worse. He shivered as he crawled, hand over hand, to be underneath the overhang of one of the dragon's prominent back/spine scales/plates.

He didn't know the terminology, he wasn't a scholar.

As it flew he eyed the sky, noting the position of the stars even as they traveled. Were they...?

"Fuck. Elbion..."

He groaned despite himself.

"Gods fucking damn it, all my stuff's there!"

Still... legend of the man who rode a city-sized dragon! That had some appeal... just had to live through the trip, the landing and whatever the fuck else was going to happen.

 

[Méchanteau]

Méchanteau bit back a summon-swear as the dragon's eye narrowed. The pats and praise were not to its liking.

A jerk of the head was enough to send the lich a-flying through the skies and the skeleton, no doubt accustomed to being the lead of any tango, had plenty to think about during his fall. Yet his fall went faster than a thought, he shattered against the side of an obelisk and brought it down in a violent rain of rubble. Another landmark of the Forbidden City destroyed.

Away from the madness of mortals and the meddlings of god, a man who had failed to be both died.

Sand swallowed bone and rag, and Alhazrit flew away.

***​

At the behest of abhorrent dark forces Méchanteau would know no respite, again he returned to haunt the living, not as a mere skeleton but a giant one. From the axewound to the crown and the bumps of the occipital, the lich could tell this was the same body he had worn during his dealing with the - he spat of glob of freezing mist - Eternum. Upsetting as the idle remembrance of that coven of botched graveturners was, Méchanteau was much pleased with his present condition. Standing at an easy ten feet of height, no longer would the brutish folk shrug him off as just another lich pirate. Giant lich pirate, now that had a ring to it.

Quite done with navel-gazing, Méchanteau pranced with his new alien proportions from the ossuary and to the deck. Alhazrit fell upon his hand, swelling his soul with that boundless vigour of hurt pride. As he rose the weapon in challenge to the skies he said nothing, merely shouting all the way the the great and terrible Fleet of Twelve sailed through the dunes as through waves, impelled by cursed and baleful winds.

As with all great villains, he would be back.

 

[Kara Orin]

The sandstorm was now completely subsided. Through the actions of Zier and Medja (and Zarko?), not all that faced Drakormir in the desert died.

The journey to the Scar yielded some fruit. The ruins beneath the Forbidden City still remained in tact – even though inanimate mummies decorated the large chamber. Tereth Adathar now wielded the Ancient Blood Spear, though those of the White Sparrow threatened to stop him. The hieroglyphs and ancient words of the ruins still remained for examination and may lead to further answers.

And not far from Akrep, Celestia’s spear finally slammed into the dirt. Its blunt end stuck into the ground with the tip pointing to the sky. Fresh blood coated half the spear.

Fresh dragon blood.

Drakormir’s blood.

Even the common folk knew of tales about the power in dragon blood. Tales of their use for incredible magic. Tales of how consuming the blood could turn one into a powerful, unstoppable warrior. Some of these tales were true. Anyone examining the spear would feel a new weight to it.

Not just because of the power in Drakormir’s blood, but also because it served as proof that it could bleed.

But now Drakormir was gone. Heading to Elbion.

In a panic, Kara grasped Maester Awano’s robe and yelled, “We have to go back!”

Zier and Zarko would still be nearby. Maester Awano heard their words. Even others from Elbion (that survived) noticed what happened and knew where the dragon went.

“If we don’t,” Kara continued, “It’ll destroy the College!”

Kara said this despite apparently only knowing the dragon is heading to Elbion.

With a somber look, Maester Awano’s eyes glanced around.

“I’m sorry,” Maester Awano apologized, “Even if we could stop him, our horses are gone.”

Awano spoke truth. In the chaos of the sandstorm, Elbion’s horses were swept up. They could be just missing, but most likely they died or are now lame.

Unless Zier or Zarko had bright ideas, the Elbion expedition could not return home in time to stop Drakormir.

Any chance for that was likely in the Empire’s forces and the colossal Akrep – who could likely speed through the desert and land fast enough to not be too far behind Drakormir.

The Empire Elbion College

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

Zarko is... Eccentric. He has no idea why he'd thank him; he did absolutely nothing to stop that sandstorm.

"It is?" the magician whirled around, "I mean...of course it is! Exactly as I intended."

Oh, how Zier would love to ask him why he intended to let that dragon fly to Elbion and potentially destroy everything, just to watch him dig continue to dig a hole for himself. Sadly, this isn't the time or place for that.

"All will be revealed!" he exclaimed with a flourish of his cape, "Not even dragon gods can comprehend the machinations of...Zarko the Magnificent!"

The circus just keep getting bigger. He really just had to dramatically wave his cape. He'd, again, love to watch the Gnome squirm if he pressed him about what there is to be revealed, he's inflating his own ego so there's likely nothing at all behind it. He's probably just a scared, sad little man under that veil he puts up and who is Zier to rip that curtain down-- as much as he wants to.

He turned to Zarko, and tried to put it in the most cordial way possible to spare his pride, "Zarko... that dragon is very large. Just so we don't (GETYOURSELFFUCKINGKILLED) underestimate it, let's not go near it again or try to slay it." Although, now he knows it can, somehow, be slain. He looked over at Celestia's spear lodged in the ground, covered in blood. It can't be a god then. It's Mortal.

He knows of the powerful magic the user can possess by using dragons dragons blood. He'll admit that he felt tempted to... taste it for said power, but the spear is her prize, not his. It'd be shitty of him to steal it while she's- well, he can't see where she is at the moment.

Regarding being stranded, He unfortunately doesn't have any bright ideas. He walked once, doing it again is a big no. Plus, even if he did, he couldn't do shit to stop Drakormir unless it's about to negotiate with someone near the person who angered it. Sure, he didn't do it and he wasn't exactly involved. But the whole congregation was suspicious as fuck. The Empire, the other dragons, flying people, it'd just make any innocent person near that whole mess look bad.

Zier doesn't know about anyone else, but he'd be very insulted if a bunch of antx and wasps decided to swarm and kill him for no reason. He could probably use his lava manipulation to create small obsidian spheres of slabs for some of the exhibition to ride on, or a sand cloud but that's messy. He's only used the obsidian spheres for himself, and that's an active use of magic so it'd drain him a bit.

He hasn't tried multiple people, but screw it. Two is the limit. welp.

He turned away from the ground, taking a few steps forward. He took a large breath to focus his mana, and another to clear his troubled mind. After, he stomped onto the ground, centering potions of magma a few feet below the surface. Then, he brought his arms forth with the palms towards the ground, raising them rapidly and three large balls of lava erupted, sand flying in the process.

He clenched both fists and they all took the shape of a six ft rectangle, cooling and hardening into obsidian. Two of them hardened with handle bars for the inexperienced.

He hopped onto his and motioned to the other two. "I can only make three. Anymore and I'll be out for a few since this is a continuous use of- Y'all know how magic works. Let's go."

After they made their choice of who's going, the slabs floated ten feet above the ground and set off towards Elbion. They might have to come back for the rest of the exhibition if they get the chance. This probably isn't as fast as a horse, but it's significantly faster than walking.

 

[Gerra]

Chaos.

Madness.

Ruin.

A sandstorm buffeted the walls of earth that Medja had raised around the Imperial force, but even so granules slipped through, ripping and tearing exposed skin. Overhead, the sky became overcast with the drake's passage. Gerra tilted his chin up and watched the behemoth glide away.

When the storm subsided and the earthen barriers slipped back into the ground, Gerra slid from his chariot and stumbled with blurred vision in the direction the dragon had stood.

Where was Maho?

Where was his brother?

All he saw was a field of sand.

He stopped before a spear that jutted from the earth, slick with blood. A voice that came forth grated and anguished, like a tortured piece of steel, gave the order.

"Find Sparhawk."

Celestia Medja Ashuanar Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk

 

[Ashuanar]

Ashuanar's eyes were upon the great dragon, inspecting it as Medja relayed her assessment, or at least attempted to. Her words were broken by the deafening, wounded cry of Drakormir. And painfully he reached for his ears, blocking as much of the sound as he could.

But he could feel it in his chest, pounding against him.

Then the first flap of its mighty wings boomed through the night, and the again, and again, and even Akrep swayed under the rage the dragon poured out into the winds. Ashuanar moved his arm, shielding his eyes from the windswept sands. And around them, the storm took shape, and the skies themselves bellowed with thunder and struck the ground with light.

It was as if the desert herself had been made vengeful.

Akrep moved close to the shield of stone that rose up before it, and crouched. Even having lowered its body, beneath it many would find even further refuge - and the Vizier also leapt down to the ground, seeking the sanctuary from the sandstorm. And it raged, and around them the sands rose up, and Akrep slowly became covered, and it slid from him and formed mounds around his frame.

And then after a time, it passed.

Akrep shifted and stirred, and stretched its legs up and the light shone through, and Ashuanar could see that the storm had passed. He pushed himself out from the barrier of sand which had formed, and looked out across the ruin that had taken place. Their host had been tossed and thrown, and many of their number seemed incapable of carrying on. There were those who had found refuge beneath the scorpion, relatively unscathed, and a indeed many others who weathered the storm fairly due to Medja's efforts.

Only some suffered a more cruel fate.

He sighed with that weight, and straightened his back.

Thunk!
​

His eyes darted to the sound, and he saw it. The spear, the blood glistening in the returning moonlight for a moment, and then coming under a shadow.

Gerra's shadow.

"Find Sparhawk."

The Vizier's eyes dropped. The image of Maho's valiance flashed through his mind, and he knew not what had come of him. In truth, he believed the emperor's wish to be pointless: he fully expected that Maho had perished.

But then, perhaps not.

He turned back, and looked to Akrep, and at his unspoken command the creature started forward toward the impression on the land left by the gargantuan dragon. And with its eyes, and its delicate sense, it would search, and with its size it would travel far, quickly. And it sought to find the sorcerer, knowing him by Ashuanar's mind.

The Vizier meanwhile, approached the spear, "my lord, could this be...?"

With everything that had transpired, Ashuanar had not bore witness to the Avariel's attempts against the dragon. But he did have his suspicions, and though he was not entirely sure, he knew one who likely would be quite certain of what it is they now saw. So Ashuanar's attention left the weapon, and he turned to find Medja.

Medja | Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk | Gerra​

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

Foolish Humans...

It is not your time yet.
​

Light... there's so much light...

Maho knew not what he saw through his tired eyes; whether it be the harshness of the desert sun, the waves of fire that awaited him beyond mortality, or something else entirely.

When he came to, he lay in the sand, his body in far less agony than it had been after his attempt to hurt the beast that stormed towards.

You will no longer receive any help from me, Maho Sparhawk.
Farewell.
​

Suddenly, he felt very tired. His arms fell away, returning to the sand and stone they had formed out of. He seemed to emaciate before his very own eyes, the strength suddenly seeming to leave his body. Imamu's words rang in his ears, his throat beginning to pain, and his vision beginning to blur. He had truly been abandoned, feeling the glow of might leave his body. Feeling the fire extinguish.

He couldn't stop himself coughing, blurting out specks of blood and clots, turning his body over into the sand, unable to wipe his face or stop himself. He felt so vulnerable, lying in the sand, unable to help himself up, unable to stifle a cry.

"Hhe... Hgelph...Hhghlelp!" He coughed and splurged, muffled and tightened by his injured voice.

He became so afraid in that moment, the sun beating on his skin, and the steps of the creature rumbling through his body. He had been deserted, utterly and completely, left to die in the sand, his magic of no use to him now.

His eyes screamed of fear where his words could not.

Tears streaking across his horror of a face, he crawled across the sand, towards something, anything. What else would he do?

What else will I do?

And, in that hopeless moment, he rolled over onto his back, looking up at a wounded sky. Waiting for his fate.

 

[Ashuanar]

Akrep

Despite it's size, the creature moved relatively delicately. But despite how nimble it appeared, the ground did shake and groan under its legs.

In mere moments it had traveled a great distance, appearing small to those of the Empire who would look out to see.

And it froze.

"Hhe... Hgelph...Hhghlelp!"

And it turned, and started toward the sound...
...feeling the disturbance of his movements...


And after his fourth breath on his back was a shadow cast over him, and the great Akrep loomed overhead. Looking down.

At him.

And after a moment, with benevolence in its motions one of its massive claws came down, and moved to scoop him and the ground he lie upon up into it's hold.

Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk

​