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Fantasy Dragonfall






~Dragon's Head Inn --> Street Alley closer to harbour~
Interacts: Brenier [ Bronco Bronco ]
Mentions: Eramis [ Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat ] // Lance [ SilverFlight SilverFlight ] // Tireisa [ VeiledPariah VeiledPariah ]

Eyes furrowed and with a look that could cause even the bravest of lions to back down in submission, Agares getting increasingly frustrated with the lack of answers to his questions had shot a glare towards the direction of Brenier; the man whom had interjected and voiced disagreement towards how Agares had thus far been channelling his abundance of energy. Of course it didn't help to cool the simmering fire that was growing within the wind dragon; his frustration only growing ever more volatile.

"Oh, I've noticed!" shouted Agares, clenching his fists and slamming it against the side of the wall before turning his attentions towards the surrounding interior of the Dragons head Inn; eyes scanning for anything he could use as a makeshift weapon. "I can smell their putrid stench carried along the wind, as well as the blood that stains fang and claw!, I need not be told of the pest's that lurk outside! Nor do I require your instruction on where and when I expend my energy!" he continued, voice still raised as he continued to look about for something to wield. The slayers, as well as the others that chose to fight seemed more inclined to defend the immediate area from the invading serpents, yet as far as Agares was aware, none had voiced intention of spreading out towards the rest of the village of SeaWatch and if that were the case, that could only mean that the humans he had resided with would be exposed to the dangers outside.

A large bang would catch his attention as a back door was flung open, several men and woman piling in through the back entrance of the Dragons head inn and making a quick dash towards the counter and where the white haired lass -one of the three- that had caught his gaze for longer than anticipated was standing; ushering the defenceless into the underground room as well as the new arrivals who seemed to have prior knowledge of the underground refuge.

That being said , Agares was not about to follow their lead and head towards the safety of the hidden basement; nor was he about to help usher the humans towards the cellar either. Rather, like the other two; he was more inclined to take action rather than refuge and with a potential weapon insight; he was all the more willing to force his way towards the harbour and towards the rest of his crewmates.

"I have more important things to attend to!" commented Agares as he brushed past Brenier; eyes reaffixed on the back entrance where a pitchfork had been discarded by one of the men that had rushed in. "There are those outside that I..." he paused, realizing the words that were about to come out of his mouth; words he had not even imagined uttering prior to his transformation. Not fully ready to commit to the whole 'i actually care about them' schtick, Agares continued to ponder his next words carefully, before sighing. "My crew may be in trouble out there" he added, before picking up the pace and grasping the pitchfork; leaving the tavern via the back entrance and making his way towards the harbour.

Now outside, the putrid smell of blood and death had been magnified tenfold, permeating the air; the vile concoction of aroma's poisoning and corrupting the salty sea air that danced along the torrid winds. Unable to hide his distaste, Agares's nose was visibly scrunched in disgust as he pushed forward, separating himself from where the major fighting was occurring and heading towards the ocean and where the Esmerelda was moored.

Thankfully it seemed the chaos occurring on the streets around the Dragon's head inn had attracted the majority of the Basilisks attention; the serpentine beasts lured towards the heat of battle and the acrid smell of fresh meat; their furore seemingly heightened by some unseen force. Alas, Agares's sole motivation at this moment was to simply seek his crew and ensure their safety; fully unaware of the futility behind his actions as they had long since met their demise.

Turning a corner, Agares would stop in his tracks; grip tightening around the pitchfork he held as he happened across a straggler; a rather obtuse looking Basilisk with its back facing the dragon; attention absorbed by whatever was in its maw. Watching the beast, Agares could not help but notice how strong the smell was; the street reeked of human blood more so than it had up by the Dragons Head and had it not been for a flash of lightning that lit the skies above; Agares would not have noticed the carnage all around him; nor would he have discovered the morbid answer to the question he had earlier asked the fisherman.

Around him, the mutilated bodies of those he had reluctantly grown fond of would be found, many torn asunder with pieces unaccounted for; blood seeping into the streets and painting the cobblestone red. "You filthy serpent!" growled Agares, his grip now threatening to snap the wooden pitchfork in two as his anger began to tip over; wind converging on his spot as it began to swirl around him in fury. Disguised against the storm and easily mistaken for the natural wind that rushed through the alleys, it would be hard for an untrained eye to notice the air growing thicker around Agares as his emotions began to get the better of him.

Like prey sensing their demise; the lone Basilisk would begin to turn; its large girthy tail sliding across the ground and collecting bits and pieces of the men it had ripped apart and pushing it to one side; the lack of care in its movements only causing Agares to tilt even further; though the coup de grâce and final nail in the creatures coffin would be the lifeless body of the young seasick deckhand wedged tightly in its mouth; a chew toy for the rabid beast.

Almost instantly, the arm holding the pitchfork would lash forward; the wooden stave flying out of his hands as a torrent of wind carried it forward; the spinning vortex a small horizontal tornado strong enough to cause the pitchfork to spin rapidly; the prongs rotating at a speed almost undiscernible to the eye as iron met flesh. The farmers weapon had drilled itself into the chest of the creature not deep enough to go all the way through and out the other side yet deep enough that the force would knock the beast back ,and cause it to open its maw in pain;

As the corpse fell to the ground, Agares wasted no time in running forward; other hand grasping the cutlass of one of his fallen comrades and pressing it against the roof of the serpents now exposed mouth; tip of the blade beginning to sink into the roof of its unguarded mouth whilst the hilt remained firm against the bottom jaw. With the creature wincing in pain, it had been child's play avoiding its petrifying gaze.

Unable to close its mouth; not without causing the cutlass tip to drive through the top of its mouth and out the other side. The beast was at Agares's mercy, the unavoidability of a painless death was all but guaranteed. Angry and vengeful, Agares would place his left hand into the mouth of the pinned basilisk gripping its tongue as air once more gathered upon the palm slowly forming another vortex of wind; one that once generated would begin to tear away at the insides of the beast.

"Even this death is too kind for a creature like you!" cursed Agares, before unleashing the mini vortex straight down the throat of the creature, Agares launching himself backwards from the force of the release and landing next to the body of the deckhand; eyes fixed upon the writhing serpent as its innards were shredded and turned to nothing more than goo.

As the final writhing of the creature would come to an end; Agares could only look skyward; rain trickling down the side of his face as he lamented the fact that even now, as a human. He was once more cast into solitude.



I pull levers
"I have more important things to attend to!"
"There are those outside that I..."
"My crew may be in trouble out there"
"Thahn by all means," was all Brenier left him with as he brushed passed, intent on finding and hopefully rescuing his crew. If it had been any other excuse, any at all pertaining to property or self preservation, the Freelancer would have reserved half a mind to cut him down if their paths ever crossed. No be'er thahn a mutineer, he'd think out of habit. But to prioritize one's crew, whether for practical or personal reasons, that was the mark of a true sailor. Nothing could be gained from any venture, if not for the efforts of your shipmates. It was important to repay such a debt. Brenier watched him go, pitchfork and fury in hand. He contemplated tailing him, as he kept a thoughtful eye on the door whilst retrieving the old fisherman.

"Yer gonnah have to excuse my ahssociate. Rain or snakes in'erruptin' merriment is bad enough, but rain AND snakes... 'enough to drive most mad," he grinned as he hoisted the man to his feet, a hand patting his ribs as he did so. "Now you jahst-" his instructions were cut off by an overwhelming sound from above. Windows shattered, chairs and tables bounced in the sound's wake, and himself and the fisherman were sent darting for the ground with their ears cupped tight. It stunned the two men, and presumably any others within the tavern, before Brenier slowly raised himself from his kneeling. Such a great calamity only resulted from one natural force, one that had struck the Outrider's mainmast thrice before, lightning. Brenier scooted the older fellow along before bolting out the front of the bar, immediately whirling himself to look skyward.

He saw no fire, no gash in the buildings roof, but he did catch a basilisk tumbling towards the street below. It looked absolutely cooked, pockets of embers adorned its form and each produced their own gentle plumb of smoke. He tracked the beast till it lied still, simmering down under the rain. His gaze returned to the roof, just in time to see someone jump down, too obscured by the storm to make out who it was. He came around the building to where'd they leapt, only to find the ravaged form of a guard and a panicked basilisk. It writhed in pain, swinging its great neck about as it spurt blood. The beast was already doomed, and hindering its comrades as it panicked, he'd let this one suffer a tad longer. After all, their seemed to be a more capable monster engaged with Leo and someone he briefly recalled as a barmaid from earlier.

He finally lept into the fray, holstering the hand crossbow and drawing his sword. Once he'd come up beside the barmaid, he pulled the buckler from his back and braced for the beast's incoming tail, taking a step forward to try and catch the impact first. The blow didn't seem too strong, but not something one such as himself could block in its entirety. He figured guiding the appendage up and over, once in contact with the buckler, would be manageable though. A parry of sorts, as it were.

SilverFlight SilverFlight
VeiledPariah VeiledPariah
Phayne Phayne


Worthless pleb
Marshal Osborn Merek
Interactions: SilverFlight SilverFlight Zazz Zazz VeiledPariah VeiledPariah blitzfritz blitzfritz Mentions: Huh?
Art by Kekai Kotaki on Twitter;

He gave Leo a hearty hug, sojourn nostalgia overflew his heart as crystalline imagery of the order occupied his headcase. It gave way to happiness as the Lion asked of the Lynx to remove his helmet, he obliges. The following moments blurred together into a chromatic whirlpool of warm colours. He remembers... Remembers retorting to the playful smack that Leo verbally gave him, introducing himself to the slayers and or mercenary-adventurers that were gathered with clubbable attitude. An excessively spirited introduction, not approaching pedestrian qualities by any stretch of the situation. Especially when he toasted with a foot on the table. Festivities aside, Marshal immediately switched to a state of professionalism when asked despite already consuming a large quality of beer, it helps to be born of sturdier stock sometimes.

Strategising aside, the farmhand paid close attention to a selection of the patrons. Several of these figures did not put the Golden Lynx at ease, they were possessed of dubious histories. That is not to say Merek would not agree to work with them, however they would be placed under higher vigilance than his dragon slaying compatriots. A simple matter of trust, a healthy dose of precaution.

Then the howl of a frightened fisherman startled the gathering. "DRAGONS!"

Marshal's orbs popped in controlled surprise. His brow furrowed with steel determination, the chair that hosted him flew back with a thud against the mottled wood floor. His helmet replaced on his head in an instant. They had all rushed out to no surprise, the dragon slayers' duty is renewed except not entirely. These were not their esteemed foes. Not the beasts that they brought low then butchered with quotidian undertakings. These were the detestable lizards that petrified on sight. It is fortunate that Marshal had the foresight of bestiary tutelage and hard-earned experience to not stare foolishly into their enstoning eyes.

The downpour barreled down on him as his armoured treads squashed the muddy ground beneath him. A basilisk sprang forth from the darkness of night, catching Marshal off-guard but not off his feet. His swordarm flicked to the sheath blade. Drawing the sepulchral sword summoned striking bolts of purple electricity as it exited snake-wrapped sheath. He assumed a stance towards the basilisk, edge and tip threatening it with a fierce stabbing or slashing. Its beady, serpentine eyes tried to find his to no avail. When that proved out of the question, it billowed a fierce roar toward him that rippled the falling raindrops. The basilisk charged at him, Marshal sensed this keenly through his battle instinct. He steps to the side as the biting jaws try to catch, slicing muscle in its right shoulder. Marshal then hopped onto its back as it tried to reaffirm its barrings. He plunged the sword into its back, piercing through a rib into a lung, missing the basilisk's black heart by a rat's tail. Now the beast is furious! He bucked, jumped, and tried all manner of things to get Marshal off of him. His gauntlet flew up in the air, a lightning strikes behind him in the sky before the metal fingers dig into an eye! The soft, orange orb squelches as the dragon slayer's fingers hook into the newly-formed cavity.

"Finish it off!" He roared with purpose at the nearby killers, barely overpowering the rain and the screams of the villagers. The dragon slayer could hold the basilisk in place just barely for now. He hears the cries of his charcoal steed, Reginald. Hold on, boy, hold on. - He hopes.


The Answer to all your problems!
Tireisa Alderann

Tireisa pulled the blade out in time to catch Leo drive her lance into the basilisks heart. As she turned her body braced for the tail swipe but it was parried by Brenier as he appeared beside the woman.His buckler knocking the tail off its course enough to spare them the damage of its bludgeoning effect as it lifted slightly. Tireisa spun using momentum to stabbing downward pinning the tail back to the ground and slicing into the hide but not severing the tail. She was breathing heavily as the rain soaked her clothing seeming to weigh her down as her dark crimson hair clung against her paler skin contrasting her features as trails of water streamed down her face.
“You have my thanks….”

Her out of breath response of appreciation was cut short as another slayer was barely holding another basilisk at bay calling out for aid as she quickly grasped the hilt of her sword. Adrenaline was the only thing pushing her now, her body screamed to stop and her leg was still bleeding as she made it to the armor clad knight who had hooked the basilisk as it fought desperately to remove his grip from its socket. Tireisa ducked and turned stabbing the blade upward through the snakes throat into its head the tip of the sword hitting out just next to Marshals own armored visage before a swift jerking motion snapped the blade off so it remained there as the beast made a guttural groan and it’s other eye rolled in the back of its head before it collapsed. Tireisa managed to roll to safety coming up on one knee before standing. She faltered briefly but caught herself her eyes listlessly opening but her vision was blurry and the surrounding battle had been drowned out to nothing more than a dull sound that could have been a mile off. She looked at her hands which were now trembling as she dropped the shattered hilt, the metal clanging unceremoniously against the cobblestone walkway. Her eyes focusing on the wound she had received earlier that was causing the symptoms from her continuous blood loss.


She managed to eek out weakly before she collapsed landing in puddle as the collected rainwater splashed upward and outward with her body’s contact.
“stay awake,stay awake….you have to stay…”
she thought to herself as her muddled vision began to darken further the only thing in her gaze being the slayers fighting for their lives and the those of the townsfolk.
She then passed out.

Suddenly she found herself floating in a sea of black. Those piercing eyes of a dragons visage glaring at her though the dark. She tried to cover her eyes from the blinding light of them as the dragon spread its wings and flew off seeming to not care for her plight.
“Wait….you would abandon me now?!, don’t go?!”
She cried out in her dream while in reality she struggled with each breath as a basilisk lumbered towards her defenseless body.

Bronco Bronco Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian SilverFlight SilverFlight

((Not dead, just losing blood lol don’t want anyone to worry))
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The Lion
"Raaaaah!" Lance came barreling into the basilisk that had nearly caught Thaes. He grabbed the creature around it's thick neck and hurled it onto it's back.
It thrashed and hissed and Lance brought his sword straight down into its heart.
"You all right?" He called back.
"Aye, thanks," Thaessalia replied to the large man who'd just wrestled her foe barehanded. "Still standin'!"

Just then, she heard a much smaller body hit the ground. "Oi, beastie!" She sloshed her way through the heavy rain to where the redheaded barmaid lay, and with a running leap and twist, sliced a basilisk's head clean off. Thaessalia tucked away her twin blades and knelt to check that the girl was yet alive. Upon finding her pulse weak, but still going, the slayer swept Tireisa into her arms and ran for the inn's door, swinging it wide.

Inside, she laid the redhead on the bar and pressed a cloth to the open wound, reaching about for an open bottle of alcohol.

VeiledPariah VeiledPariah


Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
Morriel was, at least in the eyes of the basilisk, a free meal. Notching another arrow in the meat of a fight was almost a death sentence, but a fellow kept it from being one by the acrid sound of acid and, looking up, that was indeed the case. A quick glance reviewed that Brenier was the one who caused it, and backing up in the sloshing mud revealed the sight of such a battlefield. The elven did what she could in the background, firing off arrows while keeping as light as she could on her feet, almost having a few close calls. The shouts of the fight were nothing to brag about, and as she slid closer to the new basilisk that Leo was targeting, the arced lighting striking a basilisk on top of the Inn almost dove the elven into the ground.

Quickly whipping around to see, the sight of the poor struck basilisk being bubbled and frothed with heat made Morriel wince. What a painful way to die. Quickly notching yet another arrow, she took aim at a scaled fiend farther along the field, and let the arrow fly- the point careening through the air and landing just beneath the hard chitinous scales without change. A breath of moment in the drenching rain, as she gauged which one to target next; the basilisks were starting to back off, of course, but a number of them could still be fighting.

Like the one that was in Morriel’s blind spot, which made its presence known by a hard tail swipe which flung the elven further away from the Dragon’s Head Inn. “Ah, shite-!” A wheeze as she quickly got up, the glare from the monster almost feeling like an oppressive force as she consciously refused to look the beast in the eyes. As the basilisk lunged for the women, she ducked and dived, tossing herself across cobble and muddy dirt as she unsheathed one of her dagger blades. A silvery shine in the rain and lightning- as the beast almost caught her, a mistimed step made her fall on her back.

A calculated move as Morriel closed her eyes, as this proximity would make it hard for her to not lock gazes with the beast. Flailing her blade in a ditch effort to not get swiped- a warning hiss from the basilisk as she struck claws. Morriel was quick to get up, opening her eyes for just a moment to swing wide and dig the dagger straight into the eye of the basilisk’s striking head; blows were exchanged, as the dagger met its mark through a wide swing and the basilisk giving a hit of its own through grabbing Morriel’s other arm with its knife-like teeth. Blood splattering out in the sagging soft eye tissue, the elven having her arm locked in and feeling a creeping fire upon her skin through what larger teeth could penetrate the armor and tickle at the soft flesh underneath with its acidic venom.

A guttural roar, as the basilisk reeled it’s head back, taking Morriel into the air with it. The threat of stone was moot due to the wounded eye being the closest to the eleven’s own two, as a bonafide scream rushed from the eleven’s throat to match the basilisk’s own. She wouldn’t let go, and neither would the beast as it desperately flung the elven women around in a desperate attempt to free the lady from its jaws.

By the Sisters, I REFUSE to yield! One of us is going down, and it WON’T. BE. ME!” A couple more stabs into its eye, for good measure.


Your future Supreme Overlord :3 <3
Eramis Quill

Everything moved so quickly. The piercing screeches of enraged basilisks shook the very walls of the wooden tavern, creaking and croaking at the heavy claps of thunder, and shuddering at each strike of lightning. Eramis floated around the tavern swiftly, fully aware of each body that lacked the courage to leave the Dragon's Head and corraling them into the cellar like spooked horses into the sanctuary of a barn. What was humorous was that barn or tavern, both were made of wood and can easily yield to the destructive nature of lightning or surrender to the weight of just one of the basilisks. Ignoring that very possible reality, what mattered was it gave the trembling survivors hope, and that was all Era needed to rely on. There were about nine to eleven souls huddled underneath the floor boards, all praying to their gods and deities to grant them mercy and whispering the best of luck to their courageous heroes beyond the walls that refuged them.

Eramis, while gathering the distressed folk, managed to find a roll of cheese cloth behind the counter, just before following the others down the cellar's hatch. She used the absorbent material to press on scrape wounds some of the villagers obtained when they toppled over one another. One man even twisted his ankle when it haplessly got caught between two stools as he tried to make his escape amidst the shuffle. She bound it with the same cloth, pulling tightly and with deliberate force to apply pressure and hopefully reduce some swelling, "Ye'll want to use some white willow bark for any swelling when this is over," she instructed softly to the man. The man caught the loom of a faint and reassuring smile that curved her lips from a dim light that peered between gaps of the wooden floor. "After a full meal, of course," she added, remembering that sometimes the willow bark can cause a bit of stomach upset. Eramis had watched Mr. MacKenzie do this countless times when ever the children of Dun Gannon managed to batter themselves. To her relief the ankle wasnt broken, just a little bruised and tender to the touch. Broken bones were a poor sight, and not one for a weak stomach. Eramis suddenly remembered the first time she had witnessed a broken radius, bone pierced through flesh and all, and shuddered at the thought while she finished up the wrap.

There was a frightening crash that sounded like lightning had struck right on the tavern's roof, or at least near it. Dust sifted through the slits of the floorboards in the dark hole, and the fearful group collectively gasped and held onto each other, fearing the worst. Eramis sprang up, her slippers thumping up the steps as she shot out from underneath the hatch. She ran for the door, aiming to see the progress outside when another bolt of lightning struck even closer than the last one and blasted the windows. A few shards of glass went flying toward the young woman, one cutting her cheek, just an inch below her left eye, and a bigger one slicing through the right sleeve of her dainty dress in an effort to shield her face with arms raised for cover. Blood was instantly absorbed along the edges of the lacerated sleeve, but Era payed no mind and pressed herself against the door. She froze there for a moment, afraid to even look through the glassless windows, and tried to press herself flatter still when she heard a heavy thud roll off the back of the tavern. Was there one behind them too?

Eramis longed for her dragon body, there wasnt much she could do in this form and hated the thought of being rather useless. Even as a dragon she wasnt very big or very strong, the only thing she had to her name was her speed, yet still even in that form she could offer much more help than what she was doing now. She had no fighting skills as a human, she's never used a sword or a bow, and only used a knife for cutting herbs and plants to help with Mr. MacKenzie's poultices and concoctions. She closed her eyes and imagined herself back in the MacKenzie home, the warm fire being stoked for supper and Eramis' slender fingers brushing along the spines of the countless books Mr.MacKenzie owned in his library. Full of knowledge and recipes and journals. She loved reading through them and learning about the vast knowledge that humans had come to acquire while venturing the earth. A sudden burst through the door sent Eramis barreling out of her daydream and into a table end infront of her. She managed to catch herself by holding onto it's edge and securing her footing, thankfully. Violet eyes looked up to meet Thaessalia's. She released a held breath, relieved she wasnt staring into the doomed eyes of a basilisk that somehow managed to brazenly force it's enormous head through the door. However, when she spotted Tireisa in her care she instantaneously grew worrysome. Thaessalia dragged and hoisted her onto the bar counter towards the back of the tavern with Era following closely behind. Blood trailed behind the trio and had begun to pool atop the counter. Era frantically scanned the weakened woman for any other wounds, palpating various parts of her body and thankfully finding nothing but a few minor cuts and scrapes other than the gaping one on her leg. While Thaessalia flooded the large wound with alcohol to rid it of any potential infection, Eramis stood on her tippy toes and leaned close to Tireisa's nose, searching for a semblance of a breath, which, after a concerningly large amount of time, was barely there. They were running out of time and had to act fast. Taking out the roll of cheese cloth she had safely stored in the pocket of her dress, Era pulled the loose end from the girth of the roll across her chest and about the span of her arms. With surged strength she ripped off the appropriate length, folded it in half and tucked one end underneath Tireisa's thigh for a makeshift tourniquet. She tied the two ends tightly, then wrapped it around once more until finally ending with a taught double-knot. Some more blood gushed from the initial pressure, but quickly started to slow its flow with its supply cut off. Eramis thanked the stars this gash was far from the femoral artery, but still, it was deep and traumatic enough to cause a large amount of blood loss. The silver dragon glanced at Tireisa, who was as white as a sheet, even for as pale as she already was. She recalled Mr. MacKenzie using yarrow root to stop excessive bleeding. In pressing situations he'd chew it to a mash and stuff the wound with it until he could bring the sufferer to his shop to better aid them. Suturing wounds was one thing Eramis had not yet acquired in her belt of knowledge from the old man yet. All she could do was try to make her as comfortable as possible until proper help was sought out.

VeiledPariah VeiledPariah
Zazz Zazz
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I pull levers
“You have my thanks….”
Brenier exchanged a quick salute as she ran back off into the fight, mimicking the swooping of a hat to his chest. "Yer mighty welcome," He watched her pierce another one of the creatures, just about ready to link up with the woman and another armored slayer, before he stumbled half step. He slowed to a mere shuffle before halting all together in the street. Taken aback by the scene unfolding not too far across the road, he couldn't help but stare up at the encounter with thoughts of utter confusion. Jaw slacked, eyes pinched in a squint, and posture slowly morphing into one reminiscent of examining art, he'd just spotted Morriel being flung about by one of the few basilisks remaining. It was rather hard to determine who was winning the encounter actually, with the snake half blind and the elf continuing her offensive despite the precarious position she was in. "Sorry, howd'd... who's...." He resigned to shaking himself from his stupor, blinking back into the focus of it all before changing course to assist. "Right!" he voiced his decision, sprinting under the beast's occupied maw.

It'd be hard to hit any teeth, properly impossible actually with all of the erratic movement. Luckily, precision might not need to be applied in this situation. He quickly tore the bucklers straps from their latches, letting his arm slide free in the shield. The man twisted back, as if heaving a discus, before launching the small metal saucer up into the beast's neck. It careened into the softer bottom of its hide, stopping short of full penetration but certainly collapsing roughly a quarter of its length into the beast. It sprung back out, clanging to the ground, but its job was done. The snake halted its movement, dipping abruptly as it lost all breath. Its good eye popped wide, its maw shot open in shock, and Morriel was brought a good leap's distance off the ground. "Aye! Thaht'll keep ye still ye twitchy bahstard!"

It's head was now in convenient striking range. His backsword was again brought to bear, as he drove it deep into the butchered eye socket of the basilisk. As it flew in, the blade erupted in orange flames, embers leaving a trail over Brenier's arm. There was a distinct Shlunk followed by the growing hiss of flesh meeting hot metal. The blade was twisted, Brenier going as far as to adjust his grip, now adjacent to the weapon as he held it back handed. Small flames were shooting from the eye, flicking out of the creature delivering more embers into the air. Brenier pulled back, the blade severing flesh like butter, until its glowing blade came clear out the back of the basilisk's head. A splatter of blackened blood and smoke sprinkled forth to the cobblestone below, and the blade gradually dimmed in the rain. There was no struggle from the creature, its brains melted within the now cooling gash.

"On yer feet Morriel! Thahr's plenty more viper's wai'n te sink their teeth into ye," he chuckled and offered a hand.

blitzfritz blitzfritz
VeiledPariah VeiledPariah
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The Answer to all your problems!
Tireisa Alderann
The woman’s body felt weightless for a moment but for the pressure of Thaessalia hands gripping her. As the alcohol was poured into the wound on her leg Tireisa let out a choked groan before slipping further into her unconscious state the pain searing and sanitizing any infection but doing nothing to stop the blood flow. That would come from Eramis who had applied a tourniquet to her leg after checking if she was in fact still alive. Tireisa’s instinctively reacted with a jolt at the tightening of the bandage the pressure stemming the blood supply to the area.

The woman laid unmoving her body splayed out across the bar one arm dangling seemingly lifeless off to one side. The only indication of life still in her being the shuddering rise and fall of her chest and her faint heartbeat.

The dragon did not return and with its absence all was dark. Tireisa let her hand fall as it splashed into the still water at her feet that she had just been suspended in. A ripple effect occurred although she could not see it but a sound reached her and it was all too familiar.
“Looking a little worse for wear lass..”
Her head snapped around her eyes desperately searching the obsidian expanse to locate its source. “Tobias?!”
“Your to stubborn!” Tireisa still couldn’t see him but his words were not something she hadn’t heard before. “Your not really here….”
“Now….let’s see you fight with that fire…again!”
“I’m dying…..or am I already dead?”
Tireisa tried to stand but began to fall backward as if being pulled against her will until her back hit the water. She was submerged but pulled to a standing position and now the darkness was gone. In its place was a grove she remembered well. Her eyes settled on herself and the man she had met in her new life as they sparred yet another time.
“There it is, now how about a rest?”
“Getting frail in your old age?, I can go again”
“Aye, I know you could…but everything in moderation”
Tireisa watched as the scene played out the pair sitting under the shade of a knurled tree that had spirited its evergreen canopy sharing a meal of hard tack and mead. Laughing at some insignificant card game that had been played the night before and it’s outcome.
The woman couldn’t help it as one foot fell in front of another as she began to quicken her pace attempting to reach the human man knowing what was coming all too shortly.

“No please not again, Tobias run! Don’t stay here!!”
For but a moment his head lifted as she was just out of arms reach their eyes meeting before the darkness engulfed her again as shouts of fighting and her screams as the blade fell upon her friend.
The world was back to its inky scape as she sat arms curled around her knees her eyes shut tightly refusing to accept it.

“I should’ve done something….Tobias”

the name cracked from her lips amidst all the noise as her eyes opened slowly and although her vision was still blurred she knew she was back in the dragons head tavern.
“A drink.”
She was still alive the next sound to escape her was a groan as she tried to reach for a drink to quench her thirst while in actuality she was just grasping at air in her delirious state.
Her other hand gripped the bars siding tightly as pain began to sting and awaken her with more focus.
“I need ..to get back …out there…”

Zazz Zazz Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat


Tende altum, volare altius
The basilisk ranks were thinning quickly. Leo fought side-by-side with Dane and the other Dragoons. Lance guarded their flanks.
Once Marshal's target was dispatched by Tiriesa Leo stopped her charge to go help her ally.
Instead she punched him playfully on the shoulder. Maybe we should enlist the barmaid, she fights as good as any dragoon!"

But just then, the barmaid was no longer standing. Worry crossed Leo's face as Thaes hoisted her up to bring her inside the dragon's head.
She gave a quick whistle and Shep spun around to gallop to her.
"Home Shep. Get help."
The horse snorted and tossed its head, turning to gallop for the keep gates. There was only one person she knew with the medical skill to help a wound like that. It was Kob.

Soon there were only a handful of creatures left, and under Dane's leadership, those dragoons still standing routed them and chased them down to finish the job.
Lance was among them, and it was only when he returned and saw the door to the inn open, and Tiriesa laying on the counter inside that his expression dropped.
He pushed his way into the room.
"Oh no....nono." It looked bad. He gave Eramis a worried look.
"Y-you can help her right? You have to."
He didn't say what he knew they were likely the three of them thinking: They had just found each other. They couldn't lose someone now.

VeiledPariah VeiledPariah

While Tiriesa lay there, her consciousness ebbing and flowing like the waves on a rocky shore a voice tried to reach her. The language was ancient...ancient draconian.

Child of the storms...we must speak with you...a darkness descends. A darkness that will consume all. You must unite the dragons and slayers and go to the place humans call Cordonna, into the caves there...I will guide you further once you are close.

The voice began to grow fainter as its power faded.

You are all connected in this...Hurry...hurry....

Lance shook his head. His ears were ringing, it was almost as if someone was speaking but he couldn't make out the words.
At the doorway Dane rallied the rest of the slayers, numbering just five in total. Three of them had been unfortunate enough to catch the basilisk's eyes, along with several more townsfolk roused from their beds by the din.
"Kob can cure them." Dane reassured those there.
For the dead however, there was no hope. Dane sent his men to collect the bodies, and wrap them as best they could. In the morning, they would be buried.

Leo frowned. "We could have prevented this if we'd had the full force of the keep...but why the hell is this happening?"

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~Street Alley --> Dragons Head Inn~
Mentions: Eramis [ Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat ] // Lance [ SilverFlight SilverFlight ] // Tireisa [ VeiledPariah VeiledPariah

As if frozen in time, the man.. the dragon that was Agares would continue to stare skyward, his draconian eyes lost in the ever changing motion of the clouds that swirled above; the storm persisting in mock defiance as his lingering gaze attempted to find solace.. to find meaning in the element he had once upon a time found to be his most trusted ally. Yet, treachery was a foot and now, stripped of his dragonic form and forced to parade the earth in the guise of a mere human it had become all the more clear that even the storms he had once ruled over had betrayed him.

It may not have been the cause for his crews demise.. yet it was the storm that had hindered their arrival to the port of Seawatch and had the skies been clear and the sailing smooth, then perhaps... perhaps the outcome of this tragedy would have been different. Perhaps his crew would have found refuge at the dragon's head inn long before the Basilisk arrived, or perhaps their strength would not have been sapped to the point that they were nothing more than appetizers sprawled upon a buffet table.

Tightening his fist, Agares wanted nothing more than to blast the heavens apart; to conjure a ball of air so great that the clouds themselves would part ways in subjugation to his might, yet he knew that such an ability was now beyond him, his powers reduced to a fraction of what they once were. Anger was at the forefront of his emotions, the rage swelling inside of him nurtured by the grief of losing those he had begun to consider comrades yet further stoked by the fires of fury at his own inadequacy and inability to change the outcome of tonight's disaster. He was weak. He was human.

Finding no solace or peace within the storms above, Agares would reluctantly lower his gaze back down to earth, back down towards the massacre that painted the alleyway red; the blood of human and basilisk intermixing against the rainfall. He knew little of human customs, let alone the concept of grieving over the deceased. Yet he could not deny that the sight of his fallen crewmates had bothered him beyond the simple, bestial emotion of anger. What that emotion was, Agares could not tell you.. he had not felt this way before; he had not felt this sensation of emptiness that clawed away at his insides.

Not knowing how to act in this moment and how to grieve, Agares would slowly turn around, taking his leave as he headed back towards the only place he could hope to find solace. The Dragons Head Inn. Yet his intentions were not to intermix with the survivors or to listen to their own woes..he simply sought the consolation of alcohol. If the humans were to be praised for anything, it would have to be their prowess in the art of making a brew; a beverage designed to dull the mind and to help ease the poisonous influence of what he was currently feeling within himself. The irony of surviving the tempestuous ocean was not lost on Agares who now sought to drown himself in whatever alcoholic beverage he could get his hands on. It would have to be a fool that would stand between Agares and the Taverns remaining barrels of ale, rum, mead and whatever else they had in store.

In his wake, the contorted body of the basilisk would remain partially upon the alleyway; half its body hanging limp through the broken window of a nearby home. A large wooden pitchfork remained embedded in the chest of the beast; a simple iron cutlass imbedded in the mouth of the creature; hilt coated in the saliva of the basilisk while the tip protruded from the top of its head. Yet it was not this sight that was the true gorey demise for this serpentine fodder. A simple autopsy of the corpse would reveal its insides shredded; organs torn asunder and reduced to nothing more than a bloody cesspool. If there was one silver lining to all of this, it was that Agares was fully aware that the creature did not die immediately nor did it die painlessly.

The blood covered Agares could soon be seen coming around the corner; an empty look plastered across his face as he simply walked on instinct, drawn towards the scent of rum and ale that still lingered upon the Tavern's interiors. The bodies of the fallen around him were nothing more than background noise; their importance paling in comparison to those he himself had lost tonight. Even the surviving dragon slayers could do little to distract Agares from his goal and if there was any emotion that could be stirred from their presence it would again be anger. Not because of the feud between dragon and slayer, but because they had lost this many to mere basilisk's... were these not the fearsome warriors that dared to defy dragons?. How could their power be this frail?.. How had they been unable to protect the humans they had sworn to protect? The humans that Agares cared about... what made those in the tavern more important than those elsewhere.

Gritting his teeth and increasingly consumed by this newfound sensation he was feeling, Agares would brush pass several of the survivors, forcing his way into the tavern. He'd spare a momentary glance towards Lance, Eramis and Tireisa at the counter; still not knowing why they felt more familiar than the other humans here but presently showing little desire to spare thought on the matter. His true goal at this moment lay beyond where they gathered; the untouched barrel of what smelt to be Rum lingering in the back.

Passing the trio; the crestfallen Agares would make his way to that barrel in the background; stopping momentarily to pick up a fallen pint before twisting the keg tap and pouring himself a pint, one of what he hoped to be the first of many



omnipotent empress.
[✦]when would you bless me?
(Apologies, college things popped up so very late reply I believe)

Titania could see the poor man was soaked from the rain as much as she was. Instinctively, she wanted to reach her hand out to examine him after he coughed but he was thanking her and on his feet quickly. It startled her backwards a bit at how big he was since he had been sitting, he had not looked very imposing to her but now that he was on his feet -pulling his sword from the dead Basilisk's eye- she could see how utterly useless she was to the situation. Regular humans? Her sharp ears just managed to pick up the slip in words under the vile weather. She couldn't even bother to question him before he was off to continue fighting. That left her on her knees, wet stone digging into her knees and thin cloak feeling heavier than it had a few minutes before. Amidst the chaos, she managed to take note of several individuals. One was clearly an elven woman, her lavender hue skin looking more silver with the rain, being assisted by a crass speaking man, backsword expertly being used to push through the Basilisk's eye. There was also the man who helped her slay the basilisk, a giant in his own right wielding a battle-axe. Some other figures were around as well that she had wished to get a glimpse of if the large crackle of lightning didn't make her jump on her feet and cause her adrenaline to start pumping.

As he heart started to race, thoughts of anxiety started to flutter about her mind and they were not her own. They were of Xuzeo. Hidden well outside the town, he lurked among the trees and brush; vibrantly striped fur looking dreary like everything else soaked in rain. He returned her anxiety with his own, wondering if she needed his help but that would make the situation worse and if anything, a large tiger appearing out of nowhere to tear at a basilisk was not something any of these people needed. Titania slowed her breathing to relax her heartbeat and reassured the creature with calm thoughts. With her link controlled, she gathered herself up and made her way over to the dead basilisk carcass. The eyes were too damaged for her to take but it's teeth blessedly remained. From her side pouch, a sharp blade was procured. Her hand movements were confident, eyes focused, as she cut through the slimy gums of the beast and wrapped her small hands around the fang. She gave a sharp pull and the fang slide free with a gross shcluck sound, black blood following it. The fang was tucked in her other pouch, quickly gathering some of the black blood in a glass bottle and placing a cork firmly in it.

The basilisks number were greatly lessened by the time she finished her task and brave fighters who had slain them were beginning to settle down as well. It looked like very few had been injured. At least she thought so. A commotion was beginning to build in the tavern and all her eyes caught was a redhead being carried into the lit building, looking worse for wear. Titania left her collection of Basilisk parts, dragging her heavy body to the tavern and entering it to find a swath of people. She felt out of place -a fish out of water- among people that did not look anything like herself. Her height was helpful in this case, standing nearly six feet tall, as she could drag her eyes around the room before settling on the heavily wounded woman. There seemed to be some help being given to her; a brunette woman knew to sanitize the wound with alcohol while another, much smaller, woman made a cloth tourniquet. Was there no healer around? Titania scanned around but saw nobody else jumping in to help or provide people with pain relief. Stopping the problem and basic field aid was fine for minor injuries but the red haired woman needed more than that. Her mind juggled what to do, whether to intrude and help or ignore in favor of inspecting other people.

She made her choice when a well-built man brushed past her and though there was little force behind it, it was enough to push her tired and frail body forward through others, stumbling to a halt in front of the trio. Titania gave several slow blinks of surprise then gathered herself best she could, keeping her drenched hood pulled over her head and cloak wrapped around her frame. Shivers wracked her body to no end though she barely noticed as she gave a soft, gentle smile of calm, "I see that you're injured, sayidati. Um, I am an herbalist that can hel-" She could barely finish offering her aid when the large man from earlier pushed through to join the trio of women. Titania clenched her jaw in frustration but kept a warm expression for the injured woman, her left hand reaching into her pouch and rummaging around for the distinctive ridges of a bottle. Once grasped, she held it towards the redhead, "This is a pain relieving tonic with echinacea, chamomile and a bit of primrose. It's flavored with wintergreen so it will just taste like naenae -I mean- mint. it tastes like mint." Her explanation was quick but precise, correcting her language slip up. Most people did not speak verlorean as she came to find out.

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Worthless pleb
Marshal Osborn Merek
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Art by Kekai Kotaki on Twitter;

Marshal did not flinch even as the redhead's blade grazed the wet, polished veneer of his helmet. The basilisk's legs buckled as the nerve signals ceased abruptly. Marshal fell to the side, rolling with the direction in the damp, grassy, dirt. The barmaid had served her purpose, then she fell. Marshal rips a fistful of grass out as he willed his legs to stand. The basilisk's vitae daubed his knees then soles. He skipped over the corpse, before arriving to at least the woman up until someone else got to her. The chaos of the rampage calmed soon enough, Marshal felt it on the wind. Still his blade remained drawn. The inn-goers and his Dragoon mates begin to funnel back into Dragon's Head. He broke off to check the hitches for Reginald. During the commotion that followed, he heard his trusty steed whining against the callous storm.

As he rounded the corner, Reginald turned, as much as he could while hitched to a post, to look at the dragon slayer. The fearful cries stopped, replaced by the neighing and nickering. Marshal sheathed the pitch-black dragon killer, placing a hand on the corner. His eyes trailed to the ground, shaking his head with a round of tongue clicking. "Always whining." Truthfully, the former farmhand breathed a sigh of relief at the unscathed form of his horse. He paced over to his friend, gave him a good patting on his neck. Until Marshal circled to notice three, diagonal claw marks on his horse's rump. Shocked, Marshal blinked through the visor of his aquiline helmet. His hand hovered over the wound, then looked down to see the ground, minutely disturbed, at Reginald's rear feet. An image formed of what happened in Marshal's head; a basilisk reached from behind, Reginald frightened kicked as he was trained to do, deforming the basilisk's jaw consequently scaring it off.

"Now there's a good lad, aintcha?" Marshal complimented the horse, followed by treating that laceration wound. Once tidied up, he grabbed his gauntlets then returned to the Inn.

He caught Leo pondering the question of why. An awful line of thought in Marshal's eyes, he fixed a chair upright before placing his armaments on it. Securing a mug, but filling it only with water. Marshal provided his thoughts on the basilisk attack. "Clan migration, starvation, or a creature, larger than them, shooed them away from its path." Spoken clinically by the dragon slayer, taking a sip of water for his parched throat. Through the edge of the mug, he spotted a dark-haired man aimlessly drinking away in the corner, Marshal wondered how heavily is he dealing with the loss.

Marshal looked at the redhead barmaid, providing only a nod that thanked her for the assistance.


Your future Supreme Overlord :3 <3
Eramis Quill

Eramis was running out of ways to help Tireisa, her specialty was botany not surgery, and though her knowledge was extensive thanks to Mr. MacKenzie's methods of coercion -- which usually involved some form of physical punishment -- she lacked the experience of putting it to practice and the sense to carry useful plants and herbs on her person to have when needed. Panic was setting in now. Her hands trembled as she kept on Tireisa's pulse, hands bloodied after touching the wound. For a moment Tireisa's consciousness flickered like a dying flame as Era watched the red-head reach and claw for some invisible something. Grasping at air, followed by the word "drink" leaving the bleeding woman's lips, Eramis rushed for some water and came back with a ladle full. She pressed the brim of the copper utensil to her friend's lips and carefully poured the liquid, being sure not to flood the opening of her throat. The water seemed to be laced with liquid courage, as Tireisa suddenly felt well enough to continue on with the basilisks. However, the very sight of her life essence leaving her body and pooling onto the floor below protested other wise, along with her obvious delusions from blood loss and ghost-pale face. The request to return to battle was a delusion of it's own, to which Eramis shushed the woman gently and eased her back into lying down, trying to keep her calm and her blood flow slow.

Era felt an unknown presence approach them, she glanced over briefly before returning her attention to Tireisa. This person, a woman who Eramis had not seen in the tavern before the commotion errupted, started to speak when distant foot steps, heavy with dread, came thumping over, "Y-you can save her, right? You have to."

Eramis couldn't bear to look at Lance. Her heart sank to the deepest pit of her empty stomach, and what ever wooziness she had felt from the creeping ale she drunk earlier, had burned up with worry and left her more sober than ever. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lower lip curled beneath the top one with a frown that struggled to suppress a quiver. She turned her head away from Tireisa and regretfully looked up at the larger man, eyes welled with tears that fought to keep from dropping, collecting at the brim of her lower eyelid. Her face had never showed such guilt, as she stood before him with out an answer. What ever words would leave her lips would not provide the answer he hoped for. She looked back to the fallen dragon that lay on the counter, and pleaded with what ever gods were willing to listen at that moment. To her surprise, Eramis heard a faint voice in her ears, followed by a deafening high-pitched ringing. Time seemed to slow around her, and her heart quickened in pace with fear from this puzzling sensation. She heard her breaths grow louder and slower as the voice faded and time ceased to exist, the cadence of air leaving her lungs drowning out everything else, coupled with a slight dizzying sensation.

Luckily for the trio of dragons, unknowingly now a quartet, the mystery stranger-ess who had found them spoke up again, and snapped Era out of the unexplainable feeling she had just then. The taller woman explained that she carried a tincture with the purpose to ease pain, and produced a small bottle from an equally small bag that decorated her person. Normally, Eramis would show skepticism as to why a stranger would be willing to use such a precious commodity on another stranger whom she had just met not two moments ago. Yet she was also faced with the same irony, as here she was trying everything in her power to keep Tireisa from a premature death even though she herself had just met the woman. Perhaps it was for the same reason, the unexplainable kinship she shared with her and with Lance, and as Eramis turned once again to face the newly arrived woman, realized she had the same feeling once again. Violet eyes twinkled with hope from that little bottle, her face lightened with a chance that Tireisa would be okay. And although she knew that that bottle was not a cure-all, and would not magically sew up the gash on her leg, it would at least ease some pain and allow Tireisa to heal, though it may take some time. The tourniquet had done its job at slowing the bleeding significantly, but the problem remained -- how will they close up this blasted wound?

A distraction from the corner of her eye would reveal itself to be a blessing in disguise. She looked over her shoulder, doe eyes following the gruff looking man that had caught her attention before. She had been so preoccupied with Tireisa that she didn't notice the brave souls returning to the tavern after the recent turn of events. The basilisks must have been taken care of, but judging by the atmosphere of the Dragon's Head -- which was once pure elation now heavy with the burden of grief -- it seemed not everyone had survived. The grim looking man passed the small troop of dragons, and for a fleeting moment Eramis had met his gaze when he briefly eyed them while moving past and aiming straight for an untapped barrel of rum that was homed in a dark corner behind the bar's counter. He too emitted the same familiarity as Lance and Tireisa previously did, along with this other stranger now too. She knew what it meant, that feeling, but at the moment she was too involved in Tireisa's well being to act on it presently, but made a note to make his acquaintence after. Afterall, If it wasn't for him, Era would have never spotted the poker that sat in the flames of the fire place just beyond him. The silver dragon followed behind him for a moment, then diverted from his path as he went for the aforementioned cask, while she veered off for the fire place mantle, leaving Tireisa in the hands of the new stranger for a brief moment. She bent down, clutching the flapped opening of her cloak with one hand, still soaked from the rain earlier. With her other hand, Eramis reached for the cooler end of the iron poker. Hastily, yet carefully, she weaved between the humans that were steadily finding their way back to the tavern, rushed past the man who drank from the rum cask and returned to Tireisa. She raised the red-hot end of the poker slowly, its angry glow burning in her eyes, and looked between Lance, Thaessalia, and the stranger with a cocked eyebrow. Perhaps they can cauterize the wound? Eramis hoped the healing woman had a lot of that tonic to spare......

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The struggle between the elven and the basilisk went on a bit more, the monster thrashing around and Morriel almost loosing her grip through the carved out socket of the eye. But as she was about to yank out the bloodied dagger once again to fully pierce the skull of the beast, the basilisk let out a violent shutter of a wheeze as the basilisk quickly whipped its head around and let the elven go.

The momentum of pulling the knife out of the socket, combined with the thrown force, had Morriel feel her shoulder be shot up with lightning, while the elven pulled herself into a loose roll to at least cushion the fall. “Agh, sohn eis…” The flash of pain that came across her shoulder hurt like a beast, and as the elven got up the feel of the rain was being ebbed out to the fiery swell that stormed where her shoulder was located. It hurt to move it around.

Sadly she missed Brenier’s stunt that killed the basilisk, but she graciously took the hunter’s hand and got up. “Thanks for the timely arrival…friend.” It was a long time since she called anyone ‘friend’, much less a stranger whom she hadn’t known for longer than the night. The arm that was clutched in the beast’s jaws laid lax by Morriel’s side, and when raised to try and stretch it out, it just made the elven wince before being lowered. Having a feeling of the obvious worry that would be on Brenier’s lips, the elven waved him off as she quickly glanced at the field of slowly thinning basilisks for her dragonbow, “And I’ll be okay. No need to worry your head off, Brenier, just go help the others.

With that, dagger being half-held, Morriel took off in a trot to the next basilisk that tried to snap. And the next. The dagger wasn’t doing much, but it was easier to wield with one hand while keeping the other hand close to the side. Eventually, the basilisks were either driven off or killed- the pelting rain barely being felt as the elven caught her breath. Rainstorms weren’t an uncommon occurrence in Rannar, but storms there compared to someplace else- like Brix, for example- was a different story; the slayer glanced around at the strewn battlefield, looking for the soft glow of her bow- and there it was, among the cobblestone, where Morriel walked over, knelt down, and picked it up without a word. It wasn’t damaged in the fight, thankfully, but it wasn’t likely that it was going to get damaged anyways; the elven latched the bow back onto her back, before recollecting where the other slayers were flowing back into the Tavern.

A somber tone, as Morriel came in; a man who was taking a pint of what she guessed was the strong stuff, a group fretting over the bairmaid who was severely injured in the attack, and every other slayer save the ones who got caught up in the basilisk attack and more than likely locked gazes with the beasts. The elven caught the tail end of Leo’s sentence and the response of the armored friend from earlier, with Morriel taking a heavy seat at a nearby table, having a hand clutched onto the ripped shoulder as she leaned back. It didn’t feel broken, or completely dislocated, but it hurt like a bastard soaked in alcohol and burned alive. The heated iron which one of the girls had in her hands to possibly burn the wound close only made the elven wince at the probability; addressing the armored friend of Leo’s, Morriel spoke, Rannarian accent slipping through, “The aggressiveness of monsters as of late might account for why the basilisks attacked…

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The Lion
While Eramis tied a tourniquet, Thaessalia kept pressure on the open wound. The slayer that had helped her earlier appeared exceptionally concerned for the barmaid who now lay delirious on the bar, fretted over by now four of them. To the woman in the blue cloak and sandals, she jerked her head in Tireisa's direction. "Aye, get in here, if ye know what yer doin'.

The_Regalia The_Regalia

Thaessalia glanced around for the light-haired barmaid, cursing at the sight of the hot poker. "Oi, lass. None o' that mess. We're not savages. Come 'ere an' keep pressure on this. You," she waved the hefty man who had shown concern over. "Hold 'er steady. I'll sew 'er up until Kob gets 'ere."

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Once everyone had gotten into place, she would procure a small tin with needle and thread. She might be intoxicated, but her hands were steady, and she'd sewn up countless wounds in the field.

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Arkos stumbled, the now dead Basilisk landing on the ground beside him. The pain was now coming on him by waves, and he knew he had little time before he would become immobile from the pain. He felt like his entire upper layer of skin was melted off. Getting up, he grunted, grabbing his axe before making his way inside. Everything was becoming blurry, and he tripped onto a table, breaking it in half, his ax clattering to the ground pressing grooves into the wooden floor. Everything quietly faded to black.

A faint glow of a lantern luminated a old wooden cabin. The door in pieces, it's planks on the floor that was covered in snow. The night was quite, but the bloodstained snow said it had been otherwise. Two figures, each around two meters tall, stooped into the small cabin.

"Boy, what do you think?"
one of the said gruffly.

The other one kneeled down, a hand waving over the cooling embers. "I say it was an ice type creature between the size of a wolf and a man. It was powerful enough to put out all lights, as well as to create a thin layer of ice on the ground," a younger voice replied.

"Good answer. How about we track it to it's den?"

"Sure thing Gramps," the young one sighed.

Laugher echoed through a tavern, the lanterns casting merry light as a tall man stood outside. He sipped a mug, listening to the jovial atmosphere that leaked out of the tavern. Had he been a normal person, he would be in there with the rest. But he wasn't.

"Hey, you giant bastard," a insult flew from an open window followed by laughter. "Why don't you take your man-eating ass somewhere else!" Something wet hit him. Looking at it, he realized it was an egg. Sighing he finished his mug, left it by the door, and walked off. His grandfather had taught him that fighting would only cause more trouble for him.

"We won't pay you. You're a half-giant. You brutes don't deserve money," a harsh voice laughed, full of scorn.

"SILENCE!" a voice full of confidence boomed out. "How dare you insult a man that saved your investments?"

"He's not a man," the snivelly voice replied. "He's a monster's bastard."

"I don't see a bastard, but a man full of courage to fight what other's wouldn't," the confident voice replied, steel lining each word. "If you don't pay him his due, then you can pay it to the kingdom."


The Answer to all your problems!
All the commotion had seemed to wind down despite the events of the night. The patrons of the dragons head had been successful in protecting the town. She only hoped the price of its protection wasn’t too steep. Although in her current state she hardly thought as much.
Eramis acquiesced to her request and lifted the ladle to her lips.
Tireisa coughed a bit as the warm alcohol burned its way down her dry throat but it’s soothing effects came soon afterward.
“Much appreciated Eramis”
Tireisa hoarsely replied after the sip.
Another much taller figure that she could not quite make out called to her. The females voice was soothing and yet stoic as she explained that she had a tonic that could help with the pain. “….thank you” she expressed after a moments hesitation ticking back the vial another slight choking fit occurring before she relaxed her head back down against the hard stained wood of the bar top exhaling a pained sigh. At least she wasn’t wrong about it tasting of mint. The cooling feeling rushing throughout her limbs from the epicenter of her abdomen. Her body visibly relaxed as the sedative took began to take hold. Tireisa attempted to look around but found her strength severely diminished as she grunted adjusting her uninsured leg to a more comfortable position. Her eyes did hold the plated armor seen before as the man gave her an understanding nod of thanks to which she did her best to return but could hardly manage.
Her thoughts wandered to the dream which she remembered vividly, although most of it was indeed that. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the memory and what occurred before meant something.
It was then she heard Lance as he showed more emotion aloud than she had ever expects of a man but the situation warranted it she supposed.
“I’ll be right as rain soon enough….albeit my pride may not be with all you fretting over me. Go rest I will be o…Eramis? Lass what are you doing?”
Tireisa’s words slurring a bit while she made an attempt at calming the others, but it was halted as the girl readied a poker from the fireplace it’s glow of ember emanating a thin stream of smoke as Tireisa prepared herself for more pain.
It was then that Thaes spoke up and scolded the younger girl slightly before getting ready to tend to her wound. It would take time but with her hands gripping the sides of the bar and an exhale to steady herself she nodded to the slayer with the needle and thread.

“Eramis I may need more to drink… a lot more”
the woman breathed before her head slumped against the bar and she passed out once more this time no visions plaguing her.
Her chest rising and falling normally would indicate that she was well just exhausted from the energy spent, along with the trauma of her injury and the medicinal properties of the concoction given to her.

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Tende altum, volare altius
"Straight into a human city?" Leo asked Marshal after his speculations. She'd certainly never heard of that happening.
Morriel voiced something she'd been thinking for a long time:
"Something's made them bolder to be sure. I know some would call this mad, but it might have to do with the missing dragons."
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Arkos stumbling in made her turn. The half-giant looked fairly gruesome with the acid wounds on his shoulder and back.
"Drake's balls." She cursed, going over to the lad and pulling one of his tree-trunk arms over her shoulder. She thanked her blade for the strength it granted.
"Get some water here!"

In the distance, over the hiss of the rain, the hoof beats of a horse could be heard. They grew louder and louder and suddenly stopped in a great crash at the door.
A young figure burst through the door, cloak askew, a thick, leather bad clutched in both hands.
Shep snorted in the open doorway and shook himself.
"I...really don't like your horse Leo..."

Koberiat picked themself up off the ground and scanned the room.
"Injured first, are they all here? Petrification isn't immediately serious."

Leo gestured to the man slumped over one shoulder and to the young woman with the torn thigh.
"Keep pressure on that! Let Thaes work." Kob then went to where Leo was holding up Arkos. Kob put their cloak on the floor, rolling the hood for a makeshift pillow.
Once Leo placed the half-giant comfortably, Kob took out a jar of pungent liquid and poured it over the burn wounds.
"This will neutralize the venom, give it time to work, and keep him awake."
Leo nodded gravely.
"Right lad, you heard our master chemist. Open those eyes." Leo patted him none to gently on the face.

Next, Kob trotted over to where Thaes was working. He spotted the poker in Eramis' hand and jumped.
"Normally a very good strategy for wounds that deep." They began, "however, most people don't have Sylvan salve."
Kob stepped forward, taking a strange shining oil from a little pot in the bag. They applied it generously over Thaes' stitching and the wound began to close.
Kob blinked, but if they noticed anything odd, they said nothing then.
The twig of a chemist looked at the vial Titiana had given their patient. He took it and lifted the end to his nose.
"An excellent choice. It's good to see we have some decent healers here too."

Dane was one of the last to come in. He had been managing the slayers who had been dealing with the bodies.
"We're going to the keep for the night."
Leo glanced up from her place by Arkos' side. "What, all of us?"
Dane nodded. "I'm not going to have another attack while it can be prevented. I've already sent men to rally the rest of the townsfolk. Get the wounded to the infirmary. For tonight, the keep gates are open to all."

Lance seemed visibly relieved that the hot fire poker was not needed, though he shot Eramis a grateful look.
When Dane invited them to the keep, he didn't see another option but to accept. As a dragon slayer, he would have been expected to go, and there was no way he would let the other dragons out of his sight now that he had found them.

Dane was true to his word. The injured were brought in first, and the gates were not closed on anyone who asked for shelter within them.
Leo and Lance followed the injured up to the infirmary, where Kob had some of them act as attendants, cleaning wounds and fetching tonics and bandages.
It was warmer in the infirmary, with a set of pipes that shunted hot water from a boiling tank kept down in the bowels of the keep. Still, the rain had soaked beneath armour and clung to skin, leeching heat away from any who had been fighting.
Kob sent a few of the slayers out with the de-petrification potion, and slowly, the newly-softened victims were brought in too for monitoring.

"The dorms are down that hallway. There are beds enough for the fighters who defended the town. You're welcome to them." Leo offered to the people who had followed them up.
Only when he was sure Tiriesa was in stable condition did Lance allow himself to relax. He looked about for Eramis.
"That Kob is quite the clever little...he is human right? Sometimes I can't tell them from elves...I hope that wasn't rude."

Kob worked tirelessly, but even the least observant could now see they were beginning to tire.

Zazz Zazz Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian The_Regalia The_Regalia Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat VeiledPariah VeiledPariah Bronco Bronco blitzfritz blitzfritz Tainted Nazgul Tainted Nazgul Phayne Phayne


Your future Supreme Overlord :3 <3
Eramis Quill

Eramis jumped and shrunk into her shoulders when Thaes barked at her. Feeling sheepish, she could feel the blood climbing to her face and her ears glowed red. But now was not the time for embarassment. There were damaged bodies that needed mending, and although Era did not know much about open wounds she could help with what little knowledge she did have until the proper person came over to help. Tireisa shuffled restlessly as the pain started to numb and she was coming to. Thaes worked on suturing the wound with haste in the mean time. Eramis discarded the idea of singeing the gash and returned the poker back to its rightful dwelling. "Eramis I need more to drink, a lot more." Tireisa's voice trembled from a mix of shock and pain. Era, after rushing back to the red dragon's side, noted the small beads of sweat on her face. A natural reaction when the body experiences pain -- adrenaline surges. Eramis gave a curt and determined nod, she ran off once again to scramble for a toppled over mug on one of the many tables. Frozen in the middle of the tavern, she looked around among the crowd, contemplating where to get a drink from. There was a full pitcher surrounded by a group of strangers that surprising survived all the hubub, but she decided she did not want to squeeze between. Much of the ales were spilled over the sides of tables and onto the floor, no luck there. Then she turned, remembering the grim corner where the melancholic gentleman was drowning himself in false comfort of alcohol. Quietly she walked over, careful not to disrupt the pensive look plastered on his face. Part of her was curious about him. His clothes, his scent, all screamed human. But yet his atmosphere resonated that familiarity. She had to admit she was a little curious as to whether that feeling was coming from him or her imagination. If she was honest with herself the whole tavern resonated with that unexplainable sensation, at least when she really tuned in to it. Era had to test it for herself if it meant the trio would have another dragon at their side.

She approached the same keg the brooding man drank from and turned the tap. The sharp aroma stung her nostrils and the back of her throat, tickling her gag reflex. However, her suspicions were right. Now that she was closer to him he did have that very same aura about him. Eramis shivered from the feeling, but mostly due to the fact that she still couldnt believe there were others in her same predicament. The knowledge didn't have a chance to sink in yet. She wanted to be excited, to feel joyous, but for now it'll have to be contained. The night took an unfortunate turn and now was not the time nor the place for such celebrations. Distracted in thought, Eramis squeaked when she felt some of the rum flow over the rim of the mug and land on her muddied slippers. Wide eyed, she moved the cup further from her and simultaneously took a step back in an awkward bent over pose. "Im sorry," she spoke up just louder than a whisper. She wasn't sure why she suddenly apologized, its not like it was his keg. Maybe it was because she knew this man, and this man alone, was drinking from it and it was her fault some of the spoils went to waste. Or perhaps it was the fact that his dreary demeanor screamed he was greiving, to which she was also sorry for. With out another word she shuffled hastily away from him and back to Tireisa.

"Get some water here!"

Ermamis shifted her attention to the call behind her. Human or dragon they all suffered from this encounter together, and Eramis would do her part, as little as it may be, to help who she could. She handed Lance the mug of rum and tilted her head toward Tireisa; her muted way of telling him to take over. She swiftly went for the first empty mug she could find and maneuvered through the recovering people to an open barrel full of water. Era dunked the pewter mug, causing a splash and a crinkle of her nose as a few drops catapulted to her face. She raised the mug once filled, excess water pouring onto the floor with a small stream running along her forearm. When Eramis reached the woman with a giant around her shoulders, she tapped the woman's surprisingly strong arm. Careful as to keep more water from spilling, she stared down the rim of mug as it was raised in offering. Careful not to repeat her mishap with the rum. Violet eyes looked up at the slayer, one side of her lips curled into a half smile, attempting to lighten the dampened mood. Suddenly, another stranger came bursting forth through the tavern doors behind her. From the looks of it, and by how quickly they scanned the room for the injured, they were the reinforcement called upon to aid the afflicted. Eramis was relieved at the sight and gave a small curtsy to the she-slayer who helped the half-giant up. Bidding them adieu she bowed her head slightly and went back to the comfort of her kind.

Everyone in the tavern, along with the townsfolk, traveled through the rain to the saftey behind the keep's doors. Eramis followed Lance closely behind, occassionally fussing over Tireisa to make sure she was keeping up alright. Once inside Eramis lowed her re-soaked hood and took in the grandeur of the keep. It was beautiful, a fine ode to the skillfulness of humans. It was warm and dry, and for that she was grateful. Standing in the door way for a moment she rung out her drenched hair, tossing the silver locks behind her when they ceased to drip. She stood behind some to usher in the sick and eldery safely before fully entering herself. Once everyone was inside and comfortable she wandered around until stumbling into her desired destination -- the infirmary. Eramis reconveined with Lance and Tireisa, finally taking off her dripping navy blue cloak, revealing the baby blue dress she wore beneath. Her skirts and bodice were dull in color from the water that soaked in, but she didnt mind too much, despite her shivering.

Lance turned to the petite dragon beside him, "That Kob is quite the clever little...," he paused to think, "he is human right? Sometimes I can't tell them from elves..."

Era looked back over her shoulder to observe the person running around to help. They certainly seemed human. Eramis never thought of it but humans and elves did resemble each other very closely. Infact, she just realized she had never met an elf in person. Suddenly she doubted her certainty...

"I hope that wasn't rude." He added.

She turned to look up at Lance, her wet silvery wisps dangling to and fro at the small of her back. With eye brows raised she shrugged. Now she wasnt sure anymore.

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Titania was glad to see the redhead woman accept the procured pain relief. It seemed to ease her pain significantly with the primrose taking effect; in small amounts, it was a sedative but too much and the heart could be stopped. Her amber eyes observed the patient carefully, only glancing up at the other woman but not gracing her with a response. It may seem rude to a stranger but her mind was thinking properly what to say. She couldn't get her words out properly before the little silver haired girl came back bearing a hot poker. Cauterizing. A smart idea for large wounds in a pinch. Not something like what they were dealing with but the idea and intention were good. The healer made to reach forward in what looked to be a pat on the head towards her but it retracted as the other woman scolded her.

Why scold the girl? Titania furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Children should have there talents fostered, praise mingled in with correction. Scolding with no explanation as to why they were being scolded made no sense to her. While she watched the redhead slowly fall into a comfortable state of sleep, someone came in the tavern like a whirlwind. They were fairly chatty if anything, making their way around to inspect and treat injuries swiftly. They obviously garnered a certain deal of respect. When the person came around to them and examined the bottle Titania had used, she took the words as a small compliment but found the actions a little to brusque. The customs here were very different and took notice of a general sort of roughness to the people.

The sense of fear and exhaustion seemed to wash away to something akin to calm though not quite. It seemed that two people took command of the room and in that time, Titania chose to extract herself from the group of strangers and weave through the crowd, back into the rain. Her cloak had started to dry while inside but once back in the crappy weather, it became drenched again and her shivering restarted. She ignored it in favor of putting her fingers in her mouth and give a sharp, long whistle. It cut through the rain and echoed a moment. Her hands tucked underneath her arms to try and retain as much heat as possible, waiting for the response. Minutes passed before a high-pitched whinny came from one of the side streets and the clip-clop sound of hooves became louder, Yatimah trotting from the shadows with the grey horse still stubbornly attached. The chestnut, smaller and lighter, dragged the stubborn steed along right up to Titania.

She greeted her trusty equine with a firm pat and hushed words in a language most could not understand. "Sylph!" A man's voice shouted, the grey horse perking up excitedly. The next moments were the man being united with his trusty friend, thanking the healer happily for her deed. Titania accepted the thanks with grace, waving softly as he headed off. The people from the tavern were heading out at this point to a an unknown location. She asked an older couple what was going on to which they explained The Keep would be open for shelter tonight. Titi had no idea what a Keep was but decidedly chose free shelter from the rain better than camping out in the forest with a stinky, soaked tiger. The walk wasn't terrible and a kind stablehand offered a place for her horse to rest. Yatimah seemed happy to have somewhere warm to rest and something to eat. Once inside, the place was a welcome place of rest. Warmth engulfed her frame and the constant shivering she had finally stopped. She flexed her frozen fingers, the cut on her hand from earlier had shrunk a litter but her healing had been stalled due to the cold.

As she began to warm up, the cut began to bleed again much to her dismay. Titania made followed the injured to where she assumed was a place of medicine. From then on, her brain switched into a state of focus. Her bags were set aside, gloves pulled over her hands and put to work. She didn't require a guide to do her job, habitually asking attendants to bring her things she needed. Her eyes noticed the stranger from earlier, the silver girl looking smaller without being smothered in her cloak, but she had no time to observe further, helping those who were injured. It was work, something to keep her busy and to thank whoever was offering them a place to rest. By the time most people were cared for, she was on her last patient and he was not keen on being treated. Even when she tried to explain what she was doing, he would angrily judge her every move. "I can barely see your face and you want me to trust what you're doing?!" He berated her, pulling his wounded leg away from her. Titania had dealt with plenty of stubborn patients in her time but his stubbornness didn't seem to stem from a masculinity problem.

His eyes seemed distrustful of her in general. "I assure you that all I'm trying to do is fix that wound on your leg-" She tried to reason with him but he interrupted, "I don't want you touching me with hands I can't even fucking see!" Before she could stop the man, he snatched one of the gloves off her hand -the cut one- revealing the intricate white markings crawling from her fingertips up her forearm. Her concern though was her horribly poisonous blood dripping into an open wound and killing the man accidently so in a moment of fear, Titania startled backwards violently and hid her exposed hand back in her cloak. Her golden eyes looked wide eye at the patient who was returned the gaze with one of surprise, quickly fading into disgust. "Oh." The emphasis of the word sent the hairs on the back of her neck on edge "You're one of those people." Her snatched glove was dropped rudely on the floor and his back imedoetly turned to her, all conversation and attitude at treatment stopped by the interaction.

Titania stood stone still a moment longer then stooped to pick up her glove, decidingly finding her work done and choosing to make way out of the infirmary.

Mentions: Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat


I pull levers
Brenier had done what he could trying to straighten up the mess in town, helping folks out of the cellar, rounding up loose livestock, and even the grim task of rolling up a body or two. But before all of that, he found himself standing above an injured Morriel. She'd been gripping her punctured arm, stoically silent while it only continued to bleed, and it was made apparent by her silence that she preferred any given aid go to the others in her company. Certainly a noble gesture, but self-destructive in the long run. All the sailor could do was shake his head and sigh, "Well thaht's one way to meet Ol' Hob," he'd grumble to himself. The man immediately began digging through his pockets; jacket, trousers, belt pouches, bandolier. Finally, he produced a small roll of twine and complimenting needle, thicker than string but significantly thinner than ropes. It was the best he could offer her, as it seemed more serious injuries were taking the attention of the present healers. "Well if yer insis'in' on patchin' yerself up, I'd give this a whirl," he crouched down at her side, flicking his wrist in front of her gaze. "If it cahn hold sails to'ether, then why not elves?"

Once he'd handed off his contribution, Brenier turned his attention to one of the darker corners of the tavern. There stood the man from earlier, but absent of the rage that had driven him. He stood there, sullen, drowning his sorrows with increasingly longer swigs from a mug. The last time Brenier had spoken to him, the man had been racing to save his crew. Needless to say, that endeavor wasn't a success. He'd raise from beside Morriel, "Two pahsses o'er each wound should do ye," there was an absence to his words, like his attention was drawn by the scene unfolding before him. However, before he could approach the man, Dane ordered everyone to the keep. As the crowd gathered their things, dispersing to the keep, Brenier made a note to find this fellow seafarer later on. One's crew was one's family, perhaps even a closer kinship than that, and to lose even one was a tragedy in itself.

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It seemed that the situation of the major wound on the barmaid's leg was slowly getting patched, at least until a proper medical person could see to it. Medical help inside of the cities was miles more powerful than what you can do on the field. So, Morriel simply closed her eyes and leaned back, listening to the rest of the folk slip into the tavern- the half-giant stumbling and falling, clearly passing out from the acid upon him. But the slight chaos going on inside the tavern started to become white noise, as the elven finally noticed Brenier standing above her.

What was he still doing here? Shouldn't he be scuttling off to help others? But the boy procured a roll of twine and needle and handed it off to Morriel, speaking about rolling over each side and how it could hold sails together. A seaboy, huh… The elven was quiet as she took the twine, before the sound of Dane's voice cried out across the tavern. The Keep is where we're boarding down next, it seems, as the elven got up from her seat, shoulder still feeling like fire but not as badly as it initially seemed after the fighting died.

Morriel kept the twine upon her as she followed the procession into the Keep, the rain soaking into her armor once again- she kept her injured arm close, pressing the shoulder into herself to keep the bone as close to alignment as needed. But when all the people got to the Keep, the elven took a moment to look around as the injured were funneled inside- a beautiful work of art that was human-made. The Keep didn't look to be as intricate as the Runic Order's, as it was less garish and high and academic. But it was a bit of fresh air to finally be back in a Keep once again, even if it wasn't a part of her Order. Ringing out the water soaked into her hair with her free hand, the elven made her way to the infirmary along the group that went, finally addressing the smoldering pain of her shoulder as she filed in.

Even with a relatively minor injury like this, it should still be checked for damage; one of the attendants helped gauge the range of motion on the pulled shoulder without pain, and came back once the shoulder guards and wet underblouse was peeled off to show bare scarred skin and the extent of external damage, to which there wasn't any save for a slight misalignment. External stents and braces were quick to keep the shoulder in one place, where the likely cause of pain was over pulled muscles due to the limb being jerked around- they would heal quickly with a bit of time, and the range of motion would be quicker to come back.

A quick thanks to the attendant, as they moved on to another injured patient. Glancing about the warm room, the fellows from earlier could be seen conversing as Kob rushed too and fro, but one of the ones that were fussing over the barmaid earlier had walked out from the infirmary. But among the talk of what Kob could've been, Morriel couldn't help but let out a bit of a chuckle, the stent moving up and down with her slight laughter as she moved to address Lance. "They're human, I can tell. Not a drop of elven blood in their system." She wasn't being rude, just stating facts from a quick once-over of the boy: no pointed ears nor a taller height than most humans.

// Bronco Bronco Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat SilverFlight SilverFlight





~Dragons Head Inn -- > The Keep~
Mentions: Titania The_Regalia The_Regalia ] Eramis [ Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat ] // Lance [ SilverFlight SilverFlight ] // Tireisa [ VeiledPariah VeiledPariah

Closed off to the world around him, Agares would continue to drink in silence as he poured himself another pint; the keg getting increasingly lighter as he continued to empty its contents. The intention of sharing, non-existent. Isolated and deep in his own thoughts, it was clear to those that observed that he cared not for the happenings around him. Neither the sounds of triumph from those that revelled in their victory nor the sounds of pain and anguish from those that suffered would deter him from drowning himself in ale. For the dragon that was Agares, the world in its present state only consisted of him and this Keg. Nothing else mattered right now.

Once sceptical of what 'humanity' was ever good for, Agares could not fault their ingenuity when it came to alcoholic drinks; the wonder beverage that if consumed enough held the wondrous ability of dulling the mind. Oh how Agares longed for that high, to drown out the noise of his inner most thoughts.. to push aside that niggling feeling that he had never once felt before; this clawing inner most itch that inflicted pain from within.. yet it was a pain that was not like that he had ever felt before. It did not hurt like a flesh wound, nor did it sting like bolt of lightning. Even the pain from the scar across his left eye had been incomparable to what he felt right now. It was a whole new pain, a different pain. A pain that threatened to tear him apart should its roots find firm holding within him. What was this pain, clawing away at him?

Guzzling down his latest pint of ale, the brew foam coating his upper most lip. Agares's only hope was that there was a solution hidden within the confines of the Keg, an answer to what exactly it was that he was feeling right now or a solution that would help him forget the sorrow he had just been witness to; the latter the more preferable. He'd much rather forget... to purge his mind of the cause of his current torment, to make him unawares of this weakness that seemed to be a by-product of becoming human. He had never felt such a way before, so powerless to a pain that he could not even comprehend... to be a victim of a spectre that haunted the mind... yet now. Now that he was human... how frail he had become.

Was this some kind of punishment? Were the gods revelling in child like glee as they watched a once mighty dragon be reduced to such a state?

Agares would raise his pint to his lips, hoping for the cold touch of ale to flow inwards... yet nothing more than a droplet was produced as his current pint was emptied. *hic*, his body would jolt slightly, his free arm reaching for the Keg tap, only to stop as eyes caught movement in his peripherals, the hand of another reaching out towards the tap. Senses beginning to dull, the man had not noticed the arrival of Eramis, not until she had taken from his keg; the white haired lass pouring herself a pint of her own.

"O...i... wh..ut...yer..tink..yer..do..in" thought Agares as he watched, though no sound escaped his lips as eyes remained transfixed upon her visage. A radiant glow almost emanating off of her as if she were more than just another human lass. He'd follow her movements as she left; apologizing as she did so. It was only as she returned towards Lance and Tireisa, that Agares would see a similar glow; a faint shimmer that seemed to dance against the light cast upon the edges of their frames. Curious yet still rooted to his spot, Agares through his newfound beer goggles would notice one more, a lady off to one side; her appearance alone suggesting that she was not from around these parts. Brain dulled by the alcohol, Agares could only wonder why these four held such a glow, one that everyone else seemed to lack. Once more, answers eluded him and his focus was once again centered towards his keg.

Minutes would pass and Agares now deep into the double digits had just enough functioning brain power to understand the suggestions of the human warrior. Unable to care about the irony of a dragon entering a keep built for Dragon Slayers, Agares would gingerly make his way up to his feet, following behind the group as best he could as he stumbled his way into the keep; hoping to find some kind of bedding in a corner well away from the vast populace of people seeking refuge. He needed not the problems of being packed into a space like a can of sardines nor did he seek to be in a room full of people once he awoke.

He had little intentions of staying here longer than the night. where he went next however... that was still to be decided.

Fingers still tightly wrapped around the empty pint, Agares would make his way into the keep's hallway, ;vision blurred as he wobbled his way into an empty room before finally collapsing onto the mattress of hay; chest first.



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The move to the keep was a blur and nothing of remembrance to the woman besides the occasional glimpse of Lance,Eramis, and others tending to her. Her mind flitted in and out of reality and memory but the dragon had not returned since the last time. Sweat beaded along her frame and features as her body heat rose to naturally fight off any possible infection. Atop the keeps infirmary bed she tossed and turned slightly until finally her eyes opened. Her new surroundings did not immediately concern her and the familial sense that Eramis and Lance were nearby was comforting enough. They were both alive and unharmed, she had accomplished what she set out to do. Tireisa only hoped that the casualties had not outweighed the victory over the basilisks.
Her mouth was dry like a desert baked amidst the summer sun and her head pounded from the lack of circulation due to the blood loss but besides that and the dulled pain emanating from her thigh she was fine.
The dragon warrior had lived through yet another battle,though she hoped it would be one of her last in this form. Her ability to keep up with the slayers like this was not without its issues. Fatigue being the most noteworthy. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten so exhausted when she was in her true form. She doubted a time like that had ever even occurred to her knowledge.
Still this was the card she had been dealt and dealing with it she was.

Tireisa slowly moved to a sitting position wincing a bit at the pain movement caused her but sighed audibly in relief as it stopped when she did. Now upright she looked to her companions and her eyes held apologies and thanks within them.
“You didn’t leave, thank you both. I will be alright but you two should get some rest…”
She explained softly as she looked around for a drink which she luckily found beside the bed atop a table side furnishing akin to a nightstand that held medicinal products and bandages.

Bringing the goblet to her lips she savored the refreshment whole-heartedly, exhaling again with satisfaction of its quenching effects.

“Is mrs. Mackenzie alright?”
she questioned setting down the empty cup and adjusting slightly into a more comfortable position so that her back was not pressed against the wall in an uncomforting way.
As she awaited the answer Tireisa caught sight of the half giant and he too had been dealt some wounds. She saddened a bit knowing it was her words that spurned him into action and into his predicament.

“Looks like we both got in a little more trouble than expected, I’m sorry”
the sentence escaping her lips shuddered with regret and matched her sullen eyes but she still formed a soft smile before looking back to her companions by her bedside.
Hopefully one of the two healers could do something about her leg so she could be up and about more….
That was when she noticed…the residual pain was emanating from the area but the wound was gone. She knew she could not heal that quickly but it was apparent someone had already tended to her.

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