Hallows Eve Walking in the Beyond - Kouri and the Oblivion Iris. (Open)

For the Halloween event 2020

Kouri

Kuuuuu!
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"KUUUUUUU~"

With a harsh cry, the youngling spirit was ejected from the planes of the inbetween, cast out by the nefarious, lingering will of the Great Serpent. It tumbled and rolled, unable to stop, crying out all the while. It skipped over flora, scaring away what insects would make their homes in the grass. Beneath the shadows of the great trees, it was but a small speck, barely the size of a young pup. But upon its back hung an amulet of mysterious design, interlocked in the tiniest of fractals, the secrets held within this talisman was accessible to none, except one.

But more concerning was the spirit still rolling about the grass, not stopping.

Eventually, it rolled to a stop, before a fresh pool of water, but it lay still, exhausted and injured from its recent ventures. A pity, as circumstances aligned that would force the youngling spirit to move quicker than it would like Even as it lay still, recovering, the forest it had been thrown into began to change, and shifted in both colors and aura, moving to the rhythm of the stars above. Lessat had begun its monthly eclipse, the barriers between the spiritual and the physical weakening. The subtle merging of the planes would allow entities of either side to cross into the other, for a time. Coincidentally, it also paved a way for a certain, cursed Shadow. One who had been cursed for interfering in the world too much. Eventually paying a costly price, but he had the means now, to reverse this affliction, and return to Arethil proper. He could feel the barriers weakening even now, allowing him to walk the planes of the spiritual proper. His gaze upon the resting spirit, though umoving, was of pity.

Originally planning to use the heart of a Great One, a powerful Serpent Titan from millennia before, he was forced back into this scenario, one he would have preferred the woodland spirit to not tread. More dangerous than anything the spirit would encounter, and perhaps drive it away from its foster parent with the weight of the knowledge gained in this endeavor. He had planned for the Cryomancer, or perhaps even the Swordsman to take up this quest, but alas, the amulet the spirit held on its back was the key to Tenrof's return. For within rested the key to his lock, a memento of days long past.

Means to reverse such absolute spells, but lost long ago, dating back to a time when the magicks and works of mortals were more wild, audacious. Knowing no bounds and excessively reaching for limits that belonged to the divine.

In a time when mortals could bind not just their fellow men, but gods.

He materialized for a moment, a specter among specters, but a whisper of a wind. It was all he could do, against a curse so divine. But he too, was not of the mortal planes. He may not possess the authority and Truth he had, but his ability to influence was still available. He could at least, guide this youngling spirit in the proper direction.

"Young Kouri... seek out the Primorus Tree."

A vision was bestowed, a destination. Where the roots of the Eldyr Tree had sprung, this Tree was among the many progeny that had grown from its branches. Having suffered one of the most terrible of casualties in the ancient war between Gods and Men, now a calamitous wasteland, and fraught with energies both of this world, and yet not. But at this tree's branches, at the nexus of its crown, was a conduit. Where the powers of both divine and mortal still raged, as if reliving the memories of that terrible war.

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From that desolate, yet hallowed land, Tenrof's return would begin.
 
The dragon had so few days above ground previously, but he had sawn at the bars of his imprisonment not with blade, but with wit. He had slipped his captor’s noose yet again, being a troublesome sort that could wither a man’s patience like the persistent heat of the sun upon grass. Being locked in an enclosed area with such a creature if he didn’t wish to be there was at best infuriating and at worst suicidal. Chaceledon could calmly eviscerate a man’s confidence with nothing but little jabs, little stabs of verbal needles that burrowed under the skin until the itching could drive one mad.

The cold might have taken his magic, and the true strength of a dragon, but his captor could never have accounted for how pissed off he’d made him.

Chaceledon had decided on a small pool of water he’d found. Peaceful, still, with an aesthetic that pleased him. So many misconceptions about dragons were quick to label them as greedy monsters who hoarded gold for unintelligible purposes. No one ever thought that they were simply attracted to beauty. So Chaceledon had been attracted here to bathe and gather his thoughts.

It was, quite simply put, a process. Each hairpin, layer of clothing, and piece of jewelry was either unimaginably delicate or required some complicated bit of devilry to undo. Underneath a staggering eight layers, not including his hair, was a lithe and scarred body. Chaceledon’s outward appearance might have been misleading; all of the damage his captors had done to him were written on his skin. Lash scars, claw marks, missing hunks of flesh. Oor had known his vanity and every blemish was a lance to his heart.

He’d just settled in to tend to said damaged skin when a loud cry startled him. He stood bolt upright in the water and affixed the direction of the disturbance with a glare. Who had dared?

Already infuriated his time alone was being ruined by some blithering idiot, he pulled himself out of the water and delicately pinned up his long copper hair again. His under robes were a soft milky color, and he wrapped it delicately about his figure to preserve decency. On second thought, he added another layer of sheer purple silk, and another layer of deeper purples with tiny amethysts sewn in. If he was going to address a disturbance he’d do it properly. Sash retied about his waist and hanging in resplendent plum and gold tones from his hip, he went to investigate. Crystals hanging from the sash tinkled against one another as he walked.

He came upon the spirit just a short distance from his bathing pool, and cocked an eyebrow. A tiny creature, that looked to be made of milky light, laying quietly in the leaves.

Chaceledon frowned. Well, he’d been intent on yelling at someone, now he just felt bad. “Listen here, you can’t go shouting like that. If I was warmer you’d be incinerated.” he chided, but it didn’t have any of the venom he’d originally been concocting. He knelt, careful to pull the sash up and arrange his layers. “What manner of thing are you?”

Kouri
 
The spirit cried in shock, almost rolling back in sheer terror at the new entity rising from the pool waters. The horrors of the Titan Serpent's dying prison still fresh in its mind, the spirit cried in fear as it rapidly retreated without sense of direction, eventually hitting the back of a random tree. The amulet jostled noisily, glowing a vibrant emerald before falling silent.

Without Xeivn, the wisp that had guided it throughout the treacherous prison, it was all the spirit could do to not collapse from fear, trembling.

But it would not run. Not yet.

Its parent had given it a mission. Its ears laid flat, it took a four-legged stance not unlike that of a cat to pounce. Ready to dart if it showed the slightest hostility. It slowly circled around this humanoid... being, cautious, but still fearful.



Tenrof chose that moment to try and manifest again, as the link between realms was weakening with each second. The last thing Kouri needed was to be distracted. He could only remain in the spirit world for as long as the eclipse would last, and that time was already running quite short.

Hands blacker than night grasped at air, unknown and unseen to the two. They gripped the air itself, the very space bending beneath his grip. He pulled...

And released an echo of himself, a floating ecliptic eye about twice Kouri's size. He addressed this human first, to assuage the spirit's worries.

"Do not be alarmed." Even his voice was a whisper of a whisper, almost like a soft wind in one's ear. Kouri instantly looked towards the source, to his manifestation. He could feel the spirit's surprise even between planes, but he had some... exposition to deliver first.

"This young one is on a dire mission, and could use any assistance he may receive."


Chaceledon
 
Chaceledon watched the little thing brace itself on all four legs, like a disturbed cat. The dragon didn’t want to harm it at all, and any irritation at his bath being disturbed was swiftly fading. It was a pretty little spirit, with a soft shape. He found it aesthetically pleasing, which inclined him to be more kind to it. “Come now, I won’t harm you.” he offered a hand to the little spirit, only to draw it back sharply when something appeared.

Chaceledon stood up and stepped back, tense, and regarding the eye with no small amount of suspicion. Was this a trap? If so, he’d been lured in expertly. The assurance to not be alarmed was lost on him; he wasn’t so much alarmed as irritated. If he was about to be robbed blind...

Instead, the eye explained that the spirit had a task. He looked back down at the spirit. “Well I suppose you’re in luck then, little one. You’ve found the only dragon in a thousand miles that doesn’t have anything better to do. A little thing like you will be swallowed up in a heartbeat without some protection. Pray tell, whatever you are, what is this important task?” he asked the eye. He still wasn’t sure he could trust it.

Kouri