• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy Maesphora

"Ploughing Hell!!!" Mercer cursed. He had just barely evaded being lashed by the dragon's claw. Steam had surrounded the battlefield causing him difficulties in trying to anticipate the enemies attacks. That combined with the thick blanket of snow that limited his mobility was making it hard for Mercer to fight. Adding insult to injury was the fact that he was nearly out of bombs. All that remained were some incendiary vials and a few dust charges, both useless against Dragons. Still that didn't mean that they couldn't aid him. Mercer tossed his only two incendiaries and watched them combust. Because they were so highly volatile they would hopefully clear a small area for him to continue his struggle with the beast. As the steam burned off from the heat, Mercer was able to make out the giant head of the Wrym staring down at him. It came crashing down towards him jaws wide open. "Shite!!!" Was all Mercer could think as he started an attempt to roll out of its way.


(Sorry for the shot entry. My laptop is being stupid and I have to use my phone. I should be back in a bit.)


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
 

Lindliel watched over the city, seeing the various creatures brought for the hunt rampaging through the city. Though the vast majority of the monsters had been eliminated by the city guard, creatures of all sorts could still be seen in the distance, wreaking havoc on the unsuspecting city. How a day of such excitement and joy had so quickly turned to complete ruin was beyond Lindliel, and she couldn't help but wonder how often things like this happened, beyond the walls of the temple. Turning her attention back to the dragon, she was only just able to catch a glimpse of a few different people, who from what she could tell, had been the ones fighting the dragon earlier. However, the sight didn't last long. Possibly a side effect of the sudden blizzard that had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, possibly something else entirely. Lindliel wasn't sure of the cause, but in what seemed to be the span of just a few moments, the entire kingdom seemed to be blanketed in a thick fog, obscuring her vision of everything going on in the city below.

The Elf sighed softly, suddenly aware of the exhaustion the day's events and her sudden expenditure of power on the unconscious man had placed upon her Her shoulders lowered slightly, and the once-rigid posture of the ex-Priestess faltered, for the first time in as long as she could remember.

Though the clergy were generally considered to be 'good', Lindliel had a hard time understanding how they'd been able to simply stay locked inside the walls of the temple, while such destruction was wrought on the city around them. Her exhaustion quickly turned to frustration, and tears of anger began to form in her eyes, as she racked her brain, trying to figure out how the church could be so heartless in such a time of need.

"Excuse me, Miss? Thanks for helping me and all, but what are you?"
​




Lindliel's train of thought was quickly lost, and she jumped in shock as the man's voice sliced through the relative silence she'd been experiencing, and she quickly turned to face him. Seeing him sitting brought a slight smile to her face, though she cocked one eyebrow, and gave him a scrutinizing look. "Glad to see you're awake. What am I?" She frowned for a moment, wondering exactly what he meant by the question, before responding. "I'm a Priestess of the chur--" Lindliel caught herself, and paused a moment longer, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I'm an Elf." Adjusting her smile to something more friendly, she took a few steps toward him, nearly asking the same question in turn, before realizing she already knew what he was, and that it wasn't the most courteous greeting, to ask someone what they were. Instead, she decided to make sure she hadn't missed any wounds. "How are you feeling? Does everything appear to be functioning properly?" She gestured awkwardly, indicating the entirety of his body. "I'm not exactly sure what you remember, but from what I was able to tell, it looks like you worked up quite the spell, there." She briefly looked around, trying to determine whether or not she could see the dragon yet, through the haze of fog over the city. With no such luck, she turned back to the man. "It sounds like you were one of the ones helping to fight the dragon. Last I saw, the creature appeared to be mostly subdued," as she spoke, the dragon let out a single trumpeting bellow, that echoed through the fog. Smiling apologetically, Lindliel continued: "well, I did say mostly... can you stand?" She offered her hand to the man-beast, somewhat timidly, before adding, "if so, I imagine they might be able to use our help..."

@Silver Pansy​
 
An Elf. That was what she said, and somewhere in his whirling and distracted mind he was sure he had heard the term before. Perhaps from one of his clients? Well, whatever it was, apparently she was one and they were not a people that often passed through the desert. She did ask a lot of questions though, and absently he wondered if it was a trait shared among her people. They were questions she was entitled to ask, however, considering she had taken the time to heal him and it was only natural to inquire as to the state of his health.


"Yeah, it was," he replied in response to her reference of his spell. If anything it was more than "quite the spell" considering it had depleted almost all of his magical reserves, but he took care not to mention that even if his lips quirked down in a slight frown or his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He@Mercer (mentioned)
 

"Well, I suppose if we're going to die, might as well go out in style. I'm Basil, need some help getting down?"

Lindliel began to shake her head, then reconsidered. While she was rather eager to get another try at the Demonic magic she'd only just begun to learn, she didn't want to hurt Basil's feelings. Furthermore, from what she'd read, many different cultures throughout the world were extremely prideful,and Lindliel understood that if she did decline his offer, she risked either offending him, or possibly even leaving him feeling indebted to her, neither of which sounded appealing.

She smiled enthusiastically for the first time in as long as she could remember, though she still felt a bit nervous inside. Lindliel wasn't exactly a veteran when it came to anything other than walking on solid ground, and arguably magic. Flying didn't quite fit under the first category, nor her experience in the second category. She reached out to take his hand, pausing just before she grabbed it, and looking up to meet his gaze. "Umm.. I'm not exactly... well, I mean... where do I hold on?" She stumbled over the words, not really sure how to ask the question. While she envisioned him picking her up, and flying with her in his arms, she again conceded that she didn't have even the foggiest idea of what was the 'norm', when it came to hitching rides with half-bird-men.

@Silver Pansy
​
 
"Kid?" Dante said as he heard Xian called out his name. He saw that his eyes were wide open as if to tell Dante something is happening. Not only that, but he also heard a woman call out as well, she yelled about what she had to do to help. There also seemed to be sounds of hooves clopping on the ground. Was she perhaps a half-beast with hooves? Dante turned around only to see the dragon towering over him from a few metres away.


"Miss! Don't get to close, the dragon's right here and looks like he's headed your way!" Dante yelled as loud as he could to warn the hooved half-beast woman.


With worry in his mind, Dante turned around to check on how Xian was doing. Dante's cards were wet, but it was a good elemental source in case he needed it. With that in mind, after looking at Xian, Dante turned around again in the thick fog to find where that woman was and if the dragon's motive was to get her.





@Sen Pai @Kasper
 
Shiiral still had all of his concentration and focus going into his vines, althought the area was becoming engulfed by some kind of haze, most likely fog, but he didn't really care as to why this had formed, the only thing he cared about was ending this beast. He could tell that the kingdom was going to be in ruins by the end of this, and that the once beautiful Aurelia would become nothing but a relic of broken buildings and corpses paused for all eternity. Shiiral could feel his magic waning, it seems this beast was pushing him to his limits. The dragon swiped it's tail and caught Shiirals arm, causing a large scratch to form on it, blood dripped from the wound, "Shit.." The hit knocked him off balance slightly but he was quick to get back into position, he then quickly used some of the magic he had left to form a tight leaf to cover the wound, the leaf was special as it began to heal the wound. With that sorted, he started to focus on his poison vines, he could feel the energy of the dragon fading.


The beast would die soon.
 
Aelia scoffed, hearing the man calling out to her and warning her to get away. She angrily shook her head, and she noticed little flakes of ash freeing themselves from her hair. "I know where the dragon is! I asked what I can help with, not directions!" she replied with fire in her voice. She felt the dragon coming closer and heard its footsteps on the earth. Soon it was close enough for her to be able to see its massive scales through the steam.


The half-beast suddenly felt the mist in the air decreasing in temperature, and assumed that it was due to the dragon's movement. The steam was blown away from her, and though the dragon was looking somewhere else, it would smell her soon and almost definitely kill her. Thinking fast, she pulled the steam that was floating further and further away back towards her, making it thick and dense around her body. It wouldn't conceal her scent, but if the beast didn't know where she was then it couldn't devour her.


She wanted to destroy it, but still had no idea how, and using the wind to control the steam had drained her of energy and power. Aelia didn't frequently use her elemental magic, especially not free form, like she just had. It drained her more quickly than anything else did, and she stood in her cloud of protection, trying to catch her breath so she could act again.


@HelloSushimi
 
Haidar prowled through the snow stealthily, crouched low and ears twitching for any sign of the dragon. The sudden mists that sprung up clouded his vision to just a few meters in front of him, and the smell of ash and burnt buildings clogged up his sensitive nose. But the warrior didn't mind. It'd been far too long since he had a true hunt and his tail twitched from side to side in enjoyment. Sudden a flurry of movement caught his attention and he charged towards the noise. The smog began to clear just in time for the lion to spot the fearsome maw od the drakon about to snap down onto the fellow he'd seen earlier. "Yyyaarrgghh!" He yelled to get it's attention, running up and smashing his shield against the side of the dragon's head, enough force behind his huge frame to move his head a few inches, rows of crushingly powerful teeth bit into snow and dirt instead. Haidar immediately backed off and narrowly escaping being chomped on himself. "Come on, get up, get up! Don't have all day to take a nap!"


Kalixa stood in the middle of the street. A pool of melting snow surrounding her as she looked into the foggy, ruined mess that was the church's courtyard. "Oh.... Such a magnificent soul... I can feel you fading... Soon you will be gone. I won't let these barbarians abuse you, I promise... They make take your body and flesh, but Fear not for your soul... I will handle it with great care." The elf witch spoke to herself, even as she drew her sword and began to gouge wards and sigils into the ground. Protections for the ritual she was about to conduct. Against the soul daemons that inhabited the realm between life and death, and any physical threats that might stop her during the soul drain. "Fehīæd wōmdü łè'čath..."


Slowly tendrils of her own sizably power soul reached out to the dragon's own massive reserves of life force. The air around Kalixa grew charged with the opening of the veil between dimensions, the very fabric of what sentient life consisted off. So delicate, so fickle. Dangerous. Already creatures of the after life swarmed towards Kalixa's outstretch souls, only to be beaten back by the powerful wards etched onto the ground. Like wisps of fabric, her souls suddenly shot forwards, piercing deep into the Dragon's life force and began to drain it's vitality. The dragon roared painfully, thrashing from side to side as if being cut up from within, it could feel it's already tired body beginning to shut down, sensing it's imminent demise.


@Mercer
 
"Umm.. I'm not exactly... well, I mean... where do I hold on?"


Basil almost laughed when she said that. Surely she wasn't that insecure? It's not like half-beasts were particularly rare, and while it was harder to find bird beast-men than most other ground based ones it's not like they actively avoided people altogether. Or did they? Although there was been several half-beasts with an affinity to air in the tribe that raised him, he had been the only one that could fly, so he supposed he wasn't really in any position to decide something like that. Her question still sounded strange to him though, and when he responded it was with a hint of a curious tone.


"I can just carry you. Haven't you ever met a half-beast before?"


His answer came when she didn't answer, but instead blushed slightly. Okay, so apparently not. Well, as many question as had been breeding in his mind, there were more pressing matters at hand, so without further ado he wrapped his arms around her surprisingly small waist and took off with her. She was a lot lighter than he thought she would be, even with at slight as she had looked. Well, at least he didn't have to worry about expending too much energy on this, though he did resolve to ask her later if her build was natural among Elves.


Come to think of it, he'd only ever been referring to her as "Elf", not to her face of course, but in his own mind. As he took off, much more carefully than he normally would have, he said, "Hey, I told you my name, but I don't think I ever caught yours." Basil did his best to fly steadily, keeping his preliminary wing flaps even and controlled so as not to jostle his companion. Even as he said that, he looked not at her, but at the ground and space in front of him, it wouldn't do to fly into anything, even if he did feel slightly unbalanced with the extra weight.


He didn't fly far, and it was more a swift glide down to the ground than it was an actual flight, but they'd been in the air and it felt good to get some wind circulating through his wings after laying on top of them for so long. They didn't feel as stiff and for that he was grateful, though he did still shake them occasional in less than affective attempt to dislodge some ruffled feathers. Basil set the Elf down gently once they reached the ground, watching her expectantly for her reply. No matter how dire the situation was, there was no way he was going to simply call her "Elf" throughout the remainder of the battle, there might be others of her kind out there and then it would just get confusing.


@AshenLily
 
As the fog surrounding her began to dissipate, Aelia felt her heart begin to race. No, no, no, no no no! Why do the gods do this to me?! she thought to herself bitterly. She glared accusatively at the Church of the Suns towering above her, internally cursing every single brick. Some great protection you're giving us here, 'O Holy Ones', her thoughts hissed.


And then, she realised exactly how much protection the holy ones were giving them. The whole temple was basically just an enormous centre of heavenly power. Sure, the gods might hate them, but at least they would be doing their job...


She muttered under her breath, "Siţhaėl ofčentű," and her voice was suddenly amplified so that the whole city would be able to hear.


"Destroying the church will kill the dragon," she spoke, her voice echoing through the yard. "We can crush it."
 

"I can just carry you. Haven't you ever met a half-beast before?"

So apparently they are as common as I'd expected. Lindliel had only heard of half-beasts. While the church tolerated them, the individuals who had resided alongside her within the temple hadn't seemed to be fond 'their kind'. For the time being at least, Lindliel hadn't found any reason to dislike the bird-man.

Lindliel nearly screamed as the man suddenly lifted her off the ground, and dove off the rooftop, only just barely able to half the scream by reminding herself that screaming wasn't very dignified. She felt her stomach twisting in knots as they glided toward the ground at what surely must be a perfectly reasonable pace, but felt more to Lindliel like an uncontrolled plummet.

"Hey, I told you my name, but I don't think I ever caught yours."

The Elf silently cursed herself, and caught herself bitterly wondering what her mother would have had to say about her poor social skills, even if she did look down on half-beasts as being inferior to her own kind. Attempting a reply, Lindliel quickly realized it was in vain as her light voice was carried away by the wind, likely without ever reaching Basil's ears. The rest of the descent, she gazed at the man's wings, mesmerized by their delicate, measured rhythm.

As they landed, Basil sent Lindliel down gently, and she quickly took to straightening herself up. A quick hand through her hair ensured everything was as it should be on that front. Looking down at the garments she'd been given as a Priestess, she sighed in dismay. The rather extravagant dress was now stained black in many places, with the ash that now hung thick in the air of Aurelia. A few tears marred the once-pristine fabric of the gown, eliciting a slight groan from the elf. She attempted to straighten the various wrinkles that now marred the silk fabric, in vain, before realizing that Basil hadn't spoken a word since they'd landed.

Turning toward the man, Lindliel met his gaze, and held it a moment, before realizing what he was waiting for. "Oh! Right! My name. My apologies, Sir. In all of the confusion, I'd nearly forgotten myself." Preparing the formal greeting she'd been taught to recite from the moment she'd learned to speak, she curtsied. "I am called Lindliel, of house Thalassan. Only daughter born to High Priestess Lyndis of the same name, and Prie--" she paused a moment, clearing her throat and quickly amending the greeting she'd become so accustomed to delivering, "and former Priestess of the Sun, of Aurelia. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Basil."

Satisfied with her greeting, she straightened, and looked back to the man, meeting his gaze, as the ritual required, and turning the edges of her mouth up in a polite, but somewhat hollow smile.

@Silver Pansy

​
 
The dragon stood up on its hind legs, clawing at its chest. A few scales fell from the dragon, cracking the stone streets even more than before. It's roar thundered through the air, the dragon's soul quickly being drained by a sorcerer, identity concealed by the grey smog. The beast's movement slowed down as if time itself stalled down the magnificent moment of approaching death. Attempting to conserve what little soul energy it had left, the dragon growled defensively at the soldiers and backed up.


"Destroying the church will kill the dragon, we can crush it."


"You're crazy!" Piras, a nearby commander whose men were still fighting the dragon, exclaimed in disbelief when she overheard the horned half-beast girl. "There are hundreds of people in there!" Piras' eyes glowed a fiery red when another commander began to argue with her.


Emerging from the mist, the injured older commander limped towards Piras. "We don't have any other choice." Looking up at the great stature of the church, the commander sighed. The kingdom would be losing a very important monument. "We'll evacuate the church." But the kingdom would be destroyed if they didn't take down the dragon as soon as possible.


angel-statue.jpg
With the dragon coming dangerously close to the church, another troop of warriors and brave civilians rushed into the great Sun Church to evacuate the people that took sanctuary within it. Led by the Piras, crowds of people were ushered out the back exit of the church; the brave commander wondered if her men would be able to get everyone out in time. The warriors would pushed the dragon into the church any minute now and there were still women, children and elderly in the church.


Some of the courageous clergy members stayed at the end of the pack, ushering and helping those injured to hurrying towards the exit. Although Piras' men did their best to control the crowd's panicking, the civilians were desperate to get out and some were pulled under and trampled to death. (A/N: Mufasa, no!) When the building shook at fragile ornaments fell from the ceiling and walls, a large statue of the Sun God detached cracked and the rocks fell from the head. The commander steadied and covered herself as well as a nearby woman.


"Shit. They're moving too fast." Knowing that there wasn't enough time to run and tell the others to slow down, Piras ordered her men to move faster and bring the people out of the church.


The cries and shrieks of the people as they tried to protect themselves from the falling rocks echoed through the church. The constant shaking of the building didn't help either. However, the majority of the people were all outside and were quickly making their way through the thick snow to get away from the doomed church; unfortunately, there were still people left in the church when it's demise finally came around.


Pushed closer and closer to the church, the poison in the dragon’s body was taking its effect and the beast panicked; whipping its body around, the dragon’s tail crashed through the middle of the church. Standing up on its hind legs once more, the dragon’s throat glowed a fiery red but the dragon-fire was never unleashed upon the brave warriors. Instead, there was the ear splitting cry of the dragon.


The great Sun Church collapsed onto the dragon, crushing its body under the building’s immense weight. As if time slowed down, the statue of the Sun Deity fell from the top of the building, it’s valiant sword plunging into the dragon’s skull with the force of gravity. Dust and debris flew and the dragon’s cry continued to linger in the air but at last, the beast was dead.


b4be5c7d9b5764c30c5a63609f1b2f7c.jpg
Lava leaked out from the dragon’s body as its scales lost its vibrant flame and turned an ash black. The snow melted away as the lava made the dragon a fiery grave, causing steam to rise from around the dreaded creature. The senior commander approached the dragon slowly, coughing violently when the dust entered his lungs.


Stepping on top of the dragon’s thick neck, the senior commander gripped the Sun Deity’s sword and pulled it out of the beast’ skull with tremendous strength. Standing up, the middle aged man held the sword in his hand and looked out to the warriors who had fought so bravely against the dragon and then at the limp corpses of those who had lost their lives during the fight.


There was no celebration or shout of joy during that moment, only solemn looks and the cry of young children. The kingdom of Aurelia was destroyed, many of its buildings had been damaged by the dragon’s fire and the great church of the Sun Deity had fallen. The mist had cleared but the snow remained and as if the heavens mocked their situation; it began to rain.


“We lost many good lives today,” the older commander began, his voice breaking what seemed to be a never-ending silence. “Suffered a great loss,” Stepping around the remnants of the church, the man looked at the barely recognizable steps of the church. “Our livelihoods were destroyed,” He turned around with a grave expression on his face. “But we must carry on.”


Handing the Sun Deity’s sword to Piras, the senior clenched his jaw tightly before turning to the survivors. “Future generations will remember this day and marvel at how their ancestors were able to rebuild the great kingdom of Aurelia after such a great loss.”


Pausing for a moment, the man furrowed his brow and said, “We will do what we have always done,” Gazing at what used to be the Sun Church, the commander tightened his fists. “Persevere.”


Much to Piras’ surprise, the people of Aurelia shouted and cheered, their morale brought by such a horribly put together speech. She let out a sigh of relief and smiled at the promise of a future for Aurelia. Bards will sing tales of this day all over the land, composing songs about how a brave group of warriors took down a dragon and saved the lives of thousands of people.


"It's going to be a hard night..." the older man muttered to himself.


After the commotion had settled down and the soldiers from the countryside had returned with the survivors, the people of Aurelia quickly began setting up for the night. Tents were pitched and fires were built to keep warm from the snow. The streets were cleared to the best of the people’s abilities but the wreckage of the church remained untouched.


“Piras,” the senior commander called the woman off to the side of the road. “Send your men out to find the people who fought the dragon and bring them to the tent.”


Said Piras gave the commander a questioning look but nodded and quickly set off to order her men when she saw the serious look in the man’s eyes. “Go find them and bring them to the council’s tent!”


@Mercer @Silver Pansy @LeSoraAmari @Flabbysaurus @Gigi @KaldorDraigo @Kasper @animegirl20 @Lavellan @Macbeth
 
She was formal, really really formal. It was almost painful listening to her speak to him as if he were some important lord. Maybe because he wasn't used to it, or maybe because it was said in such a flat and practiced way that it almost sounded as if she hadn't meant to be formal, that was just how she talked. She had said she was a Priestess though, former-Priestess. Basil had never met anyone from the Church of the Sun before, as far he knew they preferred to stay holed up in their church and wait for the end of days.


He smiled though, because she had tried, and that was more than he could say for most of the other non-half-beasts he'd met in his time. "It's nice to meet you, Lindliel." He almost stuck out a hand for her to shake, but was quickly brought back to the present situation by an anguished cry from the dragon. Now was not the time for extended pleasantries, but it did seem Mercer and company had the situation mostly under control. He really should get over there and help, but he didn't want to put Lindliel in any danger either. Oh the dilemma, curse his moral for making everything about this so much harder.


Basil looked at her, straight in the eyes, determined to get an honest, convicted answer out of her. "Everything's going to be really chaotic and probably really dangerous over where the dragon is. I won't force you to go if you don't want to, but I'm sure there are people in that area that could really use your help." There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on, something strange that wasn't so much a part of who she was as it was a part of everything around her. Lindliel was coming with him to see what had befallen the dragon, that much he could tell, but why she was going to put herself in this kind of danger he didn't know.


He started out toward where he remembered the dragon being, creating a strong wind to clear his path of the blinding fog that had started up. There weren't many people still in this area, so his path was relatively clear of people, but then he reached his destination (he'd been walking for what felt like forever, but decided his wings needed a break for a while). It was a relief to see the dragon dead, bleeding out from the large wound in its head, likely killed by the sword that human man was wielding, judging by the blood soaked edge. He didn't bother checking to see if Lindliel had followed him, already knowing in some way he couldn't describe that she would, that she was.


There were people everywhere here, surrounding the collapsed remains of the Church of the Sun, likely those who had taken refuge there when the dragon had first begun attacking. That was when he realized what had been off with Lindliel, she should have been in the Church, she should have been one of the many people dressed in the holy garbs of the clergy and helping these civilians calm down and get as comfortable as possible. He may not have known much about anything that didn't pertain directly to the Dracon desert, but he did know the Church considered it's brand of magic sacred.


Now that he'd realized, Lindliel, must have done something very severe to earn the title of ex-Priestess. But that wasn't a question for the time, now was the time to go find Mercer and make sure he wasn't dead. He quickly gave several flaps of his wings, getting off the ground and clearing the fog simultaneously. He was going to fly over to Mercer, he was, but fate had other plans, and as a guard from below called up to him in a gruff "Hey you" he was panicking in the way people do when they know they've done nothing wrong but don't know if other people know that. He was on top of the tallest standing structure he could find in an instant, a tree with not many low branches, and staring down at the guard in as cat like a way as a bird could get.
 
Aubrey had been brought to council's tent almost immediately, and seemed to be one of the only ones who wasn't in the heat of the fighting. Why was she brought there, taken in the middle of her mourning, over every other noble in the city and surrounding area? Well because most of them were dead. The dragon devastated Aurelia, and recovering was a pipe dream at best for everyone, from the poorest beggar to the highest noble. The only face Aubrey recognized was Guard Captain Mathas, who was 'recruited' and immediately promoted to military captain due to his bravery. Most of his left arm was twisted and brown, ravaged by the dragon's flame. When their eyes met, each shared a moment of silent mourning before looking away. As much as they both may have wanted to, neither would break down and cry in front of the council. For Aubrey it would be a sign that she was unable to serve as a noble of Aurelia, a woman who could put her people above even her own emotions, and for Mathas it would be a sign that he was unfit for duty.


Aubrey still remembered the terrible scene, still practically relived it with each passing second. Mercer gave her a horse and told her to run, to use the crossbow to protect herself. She abandoned that fight and listened, knowing that she was just a liability, a distraction that could have gotten him killed. He was still out of place for ordering her around like that, but Aubrey wasn't stupid. She took the horse and rode to the stone keep her parents would be hiding out in, a place built to hide nobility in case of a siege. She was giving up her freedom, but she had to see her parents again, had to make sure they were okay.


And like the good people they were, Aubrey's mother, father, and older sister were letting families in their keep in droves, refusing to see themselves safe until their people were safe as well. Mathas was there as well, organizing the civilians into lines so they could enter as quickly and efficiently as possible. His own wife and daughter were in the middle of the line, mere seconds from entering the sanctuary.


For the dragon, injured but still alive, it was practically a buffet. In one sweep it burned everyone in the line, even Mathas himself being nearly caught in it. Aubrey didn't scream, or cry out, or even move. Her horse reared at the sight of the beast, and Aubrey just let herself fall to the ground, completely stunned by the carnage. Her left arm made an audible crack as the weight of her body crushed it, and the terrified animal ran as far from the dragon as it could.


It only took her a few minutes to reach the keep, and the carnage was far worse at close range. It smelled like cooked beef, that was the first thing that came to Aubrey's mind. Not the people barely alive, crawling out from under their dead loved ones. Not Mathas, screaming his throat raw with tears streaming down his face, terror in his eyes. Not even her sister or parents, practically melted into a balcony. No, the first thing she thought of was how good fresh meat smelled after months of nothing but bread or week old fruit. Aubrey didn't even feel sickened by her thoughts, she was just trying to find a way to rationalize things, trying to convince herself that everyone she loved didn't just die in front of her.


And she just sat there, outside the castle, next to Mathas. Everyone else was a stranger, or so delirious from pain that talking to them wouldn't have done anything. After two hours Mathas was taken to meet with other survivors with combat experience, leaving Aubrey alone in front of the keep. It was still too hot to enter, with steam still rising up from the melted stone. The aroma of cooked meat went away, replaced by the smells of piss, shit, death, and terror.


She had been tempted to end it all, to run into the keep and jump from the top of the stone wall, but someone came to retrieve her before Aubrey even stood up. The tents were organized, the military ability to remain strict and unmoving more obvious after such a terrible event. Aubrey herself stood on the far right of the group, as far away from the others as possible. She didn't want to be recognized like them, she wasn't a hero. According to the troop gossip she was both the new baroness and widow to the lord of the city, which meant that she was basically the heir to a forth of the kingdom. The heiress to ash and death, they'll call me. It was intended as an internal joke, but only made her more depressed. It was the truth, after all.
 

"It's nice to meet you, Lindliel. Everything's going to be really chaotic and probably really dangerous over where the dragon is. I won't force you to go if you don't want to, but I'm sure there are people in that area that could really use your help."

Lindliel simply nodded in reply. She didn't exactly have a choice. Well, technically speaking, she did. But as Basil had mentioned, her talents were far too valuable at this point for her to simply turn and leave the ruin that was once Aurelia. And so, she followed. The clear air brought by Basil's wings tasted sweet; free from the cloud of ash that seemed to blanket the ruins of a once great kingdom, it tasted crisp, such as the first breath taken when stepping outside for the first time after a heavy rain. Lindliel breathed deeply, relishing the feeling of the pure air in her lungs.

The dragon was dead, but the small shudder of relief that began to pulse through Lindliel's body quickly vanished, upon seeing the ruin of the temple. Basil was quickly forgotten, as a flood of thoughts began rushing through her head, wondering what had become of the others within the temple. Though they had cast her out, she didn't blame them; she couldn't hate them. What had happened had been no one's fault but her own, and she understood that. The scene before her needed no explanation. At least, not in the eyes of the young Elf. The temple lay in ruin, and not a single member of the clergy was in sight. An overwhelming sense of dread began to boil up within her, but Lindliel was able to push the sensation away, busying herself with mending some of the more minor wounds of the citizens around her. Each wound she healed drew upon the Elf's magical reserves, further weakening her. But Lindliel knew her limits. Just as she began to grow weary, she was approached by a single member of the town guard.

With the distraction gone, her eyes turned again to the ruin of the temple, and once more, tears threatened. More than anything, she wanted to cry, to feel the dull ache as the sobs she was holding back racked her body. She wanted to weep for the loss of those she'd loved so dearly. No tears came. No sob escaped her choked throat. Instead, the words her mother had spoken to her so many times before, echoed through her mind.

My daughter, as the next High Priestess, you hold a duty to your people above all else. You are their strength. You are their beacon of hope. When the night seems to be darkest, they will look to you, and none other, to be the light that will guide them to salvation. Kings will help their lands blossom, and lead their kingdoms to glory. But in times of trouble, you have a duty to your people. You must not falter.




The world around Lindliel seemed surreal, stuck in a shade of gray. Screams of the dying and the panicked were lost on her, drowned out by an unknown source, as she glanced around the broken city, taking in the sights around her through glazed eyes. Looking up to the guard around her, she noted the concern in his eyes, and the sounds of the world around her finally broke through. "Miss? Excuse me, Miss? Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

She stared at the man with a blank expression on her face a few moments, processing his words, before feigning a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and nodding her head. "Yes, thank you. I'm quite alright. It's just been a bit of a long day, that's all."

Hesitantly, the guard nodded. "Right, then. I beg your pardon, but your presence is requested in the Council's tent. If you'll come with me, it's just right this way."




Lindliel nodded, and followed the man, unsure of why she, of all people, would be asked to visit the Council's tent, but at the same time, she didn't particularly care. She followed the guard, and entered the designated tent, standing just off to the side of the entryway. She noticed the girl she'd sat beside on the bench also in the tent. Taking care not to make eye contact, she only glanced briefly at her, raising one eyebrow, and wondering what the two of them had in common, that warranted them being called to the same meeting.

@Silver Pansy (mentioned)

@Homage (mentioned)​
 
All that Mercer could feel was the icy touch of the snow around him. He laid in it, as if it were a blanket but it provided no warmth. Mere seconds ago his life had flashed before his eyes. He had lead the Wrym into the church, just as the voice had proposed but the endeavor nearly cost him his life. The church's stone and rubble filled the sky, casting down shadow onto the ground. He had barely escaped alive, and by all means should have perished alongside the beast.


This was the first time he actually started thinking about anything other than the fight with the dragon. When he first heard it's roar his brain had switched only to instinct, adrenaline, and desire to kill. Now was the first time he truly took in the damage that the beast had wrought. Sticking up from the snow he could make out charred and blackened pieces of wood. Stone buildings that once stood proud had been toppled. Carts along the roadway had been shredded or trampled down into mere splinters scattered about the roadways. He could still smell the smoke and cinders. Then there were the bodies. Oh the bodies of the countless victims. Some were gored with slash wounds, some were stripped of flesh by hungry monsters, others had been blackened by fire to a point where they were no longer recognizable.


Where had the dragon come from? twas not possible that it had actually been planned into the games. While it had been Mercer's first year participating in the Martyr's day competition it had not been the first time he was involved. The truth was it often payed better to help the coordinators stock the forest than it was to compete. Years previous, given he had been passing through at the right time, Mercer would take on a few contracts to provide some of the more dangerous beasts. Said contracts forbid him from competing in that years game. Due to his dealings, he knew that the coordinators did not have nearly enough resources to capture and move the beast. Though he had fought a few dragons before as well as their cousins such as wyverns, this had been the biggest he had ever seen. The previous biggest was the same damned dragon that claimed the life of his mentor and adopted father. Mercer immediately knew something greater had happened, this had been a planned attack. There was no other way it could have happened. This fact only caused Mercer to get furious.


Deciding he had spent enough time licking his wounds, Mercer rose to his feet. Every joint of his body ached with pain. The fight with the drake had truly taken it's toll on him. Still he pushed through and soon stood on two legs. Slowly he bent over and picked up his short sword on the ground. He unsheated it's twin and held it in it's other hand. Due to the spell and alchemy, his injured arm had seemed to recover greatly. It still hurt like a son of a bitch, but he could now swing a swords. He then began to walk off from the man giving his speech atop of the dragon.


Now was not the time to celebrate. He wandered through the snow which had been stained black with ash. Between that and the lingering mist, the city scape looked even more depressing. Occasionally he would see a monster feeding on the carrion of the deceased. Some would notice him and lunge others would be too distracted with there meal. Still almost all in his path met the same fate, their head rolling loose from their shoulders. After he while he rounded the corner of what was none a cobblestone building. Now only it's western most flank remained, the rest scattered was debris. He had been drawn to the spot by the sound of heavy breathing. What Mercer was a peasant sitting against the outside of the wall. His hands were held upon his chest, in them he cradled his own gizzard. The wound itself was already infected and showing signs of necrosis. The mans skin was pale, cool, and clammy indication that he had suffered heavy blood loss. There was no doubt to the fact that he would die. The peasant looked Mercer in the eye. Though he couldn't speak, his message was clear. His only wish was to end the pain. Mercer nodded and swung his sword. The peasants head landed on the floor showing hints of a smile on it's stone cold lips.


Sometime later and a fair distance away, Mercer heard the scream of a child. It took every ounce of strength he had but he ran towards the child in distress, as quick as he could manage. Several forms showed themselves through the mist, five drowners all stalking towards a young girl. Yet another unwanted side effect of the mists, it created the ideal conditions for the amphibious drowners to venture and find prey. Mercer swung his dual swords violently and wildly trying to save the girl. He slashed through all of them, putting his every scrap of energy he could muster. He would not allow any more innocents to die. As he killed the fifth and the rest laid in pieces, he slowly turned around towards the girl and said. "Are you hur....." "Ahhhhh" the girl screamed as sixth drowner materialized from the mists and sunk it's claws into her neck. Mercers expression shifted into one of shock and disgust. He charged at the horror and sheathed both of his swords into it's abdomen.


Quickly he fell to his knees to meet the girl. He held her head in his lap and analyzed the wound. He observed that the damage was too great and that any potions he had would be ineffective. The girl stared at him blankly and opened her mouth. "My mommy is disappeared, I went to go find her. I...Im scared, mommy used to sing to me when I was scared. I miss my mommy."


Mercer eyes began to well up with tears. He knew better than to assume the best, the girls mother was most likely dead. Monsters still roamed the mists, chance of survival would be slim for her.


"I don't think your mommy is around. I'm sorry...........I'm so sorry."





"Can you sing to me, please mister, I'm so scared."





Her request surprised him, but he could not turn her down. He searched through his past and dug up an old lullaby that his mom used to sing to him when he was a lad. He stared down in to her little eyes, seeing how truly terrified she really was.


"Yes I believe I can. Its the least I could do." He said before clearing his throat. In a soft, low voice he sang:


The sky is dark and the hills are white


As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night;


And this is the song the storm-king sings,


As over the world his cloak he flings:


"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;"


He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:


"Sleep, little one, sleep."





At this point the girl's breaths drew shorter with less depths.


On yonder mountain-side a vine


Clings at the foot of a mother pine;


The tree bends over the trembling thing,


And only the vine can hear her sing:


"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;


What shall you fear when I am here?


Sleep, little one, sleep."





Mercer's emotions about the situation caught up with him. It became increasingly difficult for him to see it through to the end. Somehow he managed to choke out the lats few lines, holding back his tears.


The king may sing in his bitter flight,


The pine may croon to the vine to-night,


But the little snowflake at my breast


Liketh the song I sing the best, ---


"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;


Weary thou art, anext my heart;


Sleep, little one, sleep."


"I... I don't want...... to sleep," She struggled to say in between breaths. Finally she closed her eyes and turned away from the world of the living. Mercer clutched her body tight to his chest and wept for the first time in many years. He wished he had the ability to not care about all the death around him but he did. Why couldn't he have saved more? Could he have given his life to have killed the beast earlier on? Could he trade his soul for that of the young girl he held to his chest. After kneeling there for what seemed like ages, a guard patrol stumbled onto him.
 
Markus Vaunn





Markus had heeded the young half-beasts advice about the dragon, giving up his search and making sure to keep away from the mighty draconic beast. However, he was strong enough to not have to hide with clergy members and that was probably a good thing considering how the situation was turning out. After the dragon had finally been killed, the scenes of destruction surrounding Markus were a lot to take in. Smoke was all the man could really smell, causing him to continue coughing and coughing, of course, that was the least of his worries. He was standing in the ruins of a once mighty kingdom, brought to ruin and ash by incompetence and a fearsome dragon. Markus still couldn't comprehend why a dragon was in the competition that had been going on, but it was too late for hindsight now, unless the dragon wasn't intended to be there at all? Either way, the damage had been done.


Markus let out a sigh as he took a seat on some charred rubble, resting his word along his lap. Through the blood and ash, he could see his gruff, shaggy face in the reflection of his weapon. The old gladiator looked even worse than usual, and he wasn't even one of the people who had fought a dragon. Another sigh, this time one of frustration. The old man continued to struggle processing the recent events that had transpired. He wasn't the most empathetic person, in fact quite the opposite. Yet all this bloodshed and death of so many innocents surround him even troubled the minds of people like him. It was always easier to kill and rationalize when you were doing so in self defense. Reacting after an attack was swung at you from another man.


"I'm not used to this kind of crazy shit." He grumbled as he stood up, finally getting his bearings on the situation. After a while of wandering the desolated streets seeing all the corpses, all with different injures that resulted in them being dead where they lay, Markus stumbled upon a young guard. He couldn't help but feel a small amount of sympathy for the young lad. His eyes were on the verge of becoming a waterfall of tears as he stood among what was left of the kingdom, trying to force out what he wanted to say to Markus. The old man simply placed a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon lad, toughen up and say what you have to say to me."


"Y-yes, o-kay. Y-You were here when the...dragon was k-killed?" The young guard forced out between sobs. Markus gave a quick nod.


"Well then." Before he could continue, the guard started sobbing more, but sniveled and fought back the tears before once again gaining his shaky composure. "Your presence is requested in the Council's tent!" He quickly yelled before breaking down into tears, trying to hide his embarrassment for being so emotional. Markus gave him a simple pat on the back.


"Lead the way there and cry yourself out on the way, it don't bother me. Plus, don't wanna let any higher-ups see ya the way you are now do ya." The young guard nodded in agreement and led Markus to the tent, sobbing profusely as the continued walking among the dead. The whole time Markus simply had a grim expression on his face. Once he had finally arrived, Markus nodded to the still slightly teary guard before entering, standing near the back of the tent, hoping to get an explanation soon as to why he was here, and how all this chaos had happened if they knew.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Finally, after much deliberation, the dragon was dead, crushed by the Sun Church building. But out of all the things lost to Aurelia, this was most probably by far the worst. This church was one of the main attractions to the kingdom, in fact, it was probably the most famous out of all the other churches. The cries of the dragon would be etched into Shiirals mind for all eternity, to serve as a memory of this terrible day... As well as a memory to all of those who lost their lives.


The Elf looked around, Aurelia was in ruins, the once lively and beautiful kingdom was now but a shadow of it's former glory. Debris from the buildings was all over the place, corpses of men women and children filled the streets, although peaceful in death, Shiiral knew these people were terrified at the time of their death, the dragon had destroyed not only their beloved kingdom, but their hearts too. Most people that lived here grew up here, those memories would now be lost forever, fragments of this once beautiful kingdom.


Shiirals vines disappeared as soon as the dragon drew it's last breath, the poison, luckily, played a massive part in bringing down this beast so for that Shiiral was thankful, at least he was able to do something. Shiiral looked at the sheer destruction all around him and teared up. He should be celebrating the victory over the dragon but clearly, now was not the time. The amount of bodies he saw shocked him, he knew people had died, and a lot of then at that. But he didn't know this many had died.


Shiiral stood up and began to walk, he didn't know where to, he just walked, and sang. He was walking through an area covered in corpses, the sight horrified him yet he continued with the song.


His voice was calming, soothing. His voice was serene, yet emotion showed throughout. His voice pierced the silence of Aurelia, the song he would sing was a common, traditional elven song which would be performed at funerals, it was produced to honour the dead and send them on their way.


"Hahren na melana sahlin,


Emma ir abelas,


Souver'inan isala hamin,


Vhelan him, dor'felas


In uthenera na revas..


Vir sulahn'nehn


Vir dirthera


Vir samahl la numin


Vir lath sa'vunin"



​



As he sang, he looked for any survivors through the debris of the buildings but had no success, but he kept looking, the thought of walking past a survivor crushed him, so he looked and looke but eventually gave up. They were all dead.


Shiiral sat on the ground, his clothes were tattered from the battle with the dragon and splashes of blood covered him, the blood was a mix between his as well as the beasts. Shiiral knew that his family would be appalled by his actions here but he didn't care, he knew that people would appreciate him for it, as well as appreciate the help of the others who helped kill the creature.





"I hope everyone is okay.. Well, I'm sure they are not after what's just transpired" He sighed, filled with remorse "I knew this competition would end badly yet nobody listened..." He sighed again and sat there as one tear fell and made it's way onto the blood stained floor, it seemed that this area was pretty much a graveyard, the amount of bodies that were here made it this way.


As he sat there now silently weeping for all those that were lost, and for worry with what to come next, a guard came over to him and said, "Hey... You, your that Elf that fought the dragon... You need to come with me, myself and other soldiers have been tasked with rounding up those involved in the battle, I'll take you to the Council Tent"





Shiiral turned his head to face the guard and he smiled at him, Shiiral then stood up and wiped any teard from his face as he followed the guard to said tent. When they finally got there the guard let Shiiral into the tent, where two others were already located, they were both females. Shiiral sat down and stayed quiet, he smiled at the two girls as he didn't want to come across as rude, but he wasn't really in the mood for talking right jow so he didn't, instead he hummed a peaceful tune quietly to himself.




​
 
By the time the guards finally got Basil out of the tree approximately an hour had passed. None of them had ever thought enlisting in the army would require them to try coaxing a half-beast out of a tree, but he had been one of the few who had stayed and fought the dragon and getting him to the Council's tent had become their current task, no matter how frustrating and sanity degrading it was. The first soldier had tried calling him, first telling and then demanding that he get down from there and listen to what he had to say. Obviously, there had been no tact whatsoever involved.


The situation had passed like that for several@Mercer (mentioned) [/color][/color][/color][/color][/color]
 
Aelia watched the Church of the Sun collapse, its white walls crumbling into each other as if the entire building was consuming itself. Its brilliant towers toppled into the dragon, debris raining down almost as thickly as the snow. Her breath caught as the mighty beast's head fell for the last time directly onto the the main atrium of the church. Oh Gods, no, that's where people were hiding, oh Gods. Her eyes grew wide, and she took a step back. The rubble completely engulfed the atrium, no clear exit to be seen. She choked on her breath. Oh, Gods, this was a hunt. This was supposed to be a hunt. What she had committed was a massacre.


As a hunter, Aelia had a certain tolerance for death. Animals died, and people died. It was all a part of nature. But this was different. This didn't preserve lives. It stole them. She was supposed to be a hunter. Was she instead a thief all along?


The half-beast attempted to take another step backwards to try to forget the horror of what she had just done, but her hoof found no traction; a brick had landed nearby and slid out from under her as she stepped back. She was numb as she fell. The pavement may as well not have even been there. It was as if she was falling into eternity - dark, cold, empty, nonexistent. She wanted to forget it all.


When she next opened her eyes, a traumatized city guard was standing over her, shaking her desperately. He choked out, "Oh, Gods, you're alive. You didn't respond. I thought you were dead." Aelia could barely hear him over the buzzing in her ears. "Miss, we need to have a word with you. We need to know what you did," he told her, and she nodded, though she didn't comprehend what he had said. In the place where she had fallen, there was a light trickle of blood from roughly where her hip was, and there were tiny shards where her horns had chipped off. The guard had to support her and help her walk to get her to the council tent. As he did, she muttered a prayer for the dead over and over again. "Dekthæ estune benedicĕ ælf'æ," she whimpered a final time, wiping her face out of exhaustion. She was surprised to see her hand come away wet with tears she didn't realise she had been crying.
 
Kalixa walked towards the downed dragon, an arm held up to her nose to keep the dust from the rumble out of her nose. Her boots were dirted, each step sounding a wet 'slich!'. The ground was a sluge of a mess. Rain, lava, ash, water and mud all combining into a thick, muggy sludge. She barely noticed the frantic activity taking place around her. Folorn wails of misery snd grieve. Cries of parents for their children, and children for their parents. The swallow, haunted looks in the once happy eyes of the citizens. In the distance, songs could be heard. Mournful, erie, spine chilling tunes of tribute to the tragedy that was supposed to be the Kingdom's greatest festival.


The elf cared not for any of that. Her eyes shone brightly with excitement, a smile behind her hand. As she neared the dragon she heard a commotion of yells,and a familiar, feral snarl. "You will have to go to the council, it is not a request, sir."


"I care not for your orders, human. I have my own instructions. If you wish to try, however, you can move me by force."


The scene was a strange one. Her Lion companion was standing in a circle of guards, leaning in the pommel of his sword lightly, nochantly even. Five guards circled him with their hands in the handles of their blades, the leader agitated reached out as if to grab one of Haidar's arms... And found himself probably flung against a wall, crashing against it with a pained grunt and collapsing onto the cold ground. The rest of the guards drew their blades, ready to attack the half beast, causing other people in their vicinity to look over.


"Cease!" Kalixa's voiced thrummed sharply, stopping Haidar or the guards from crossing blades. She stomped over to the little circle, water dripping down her soaked figure. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you harrassing my hire?" Her tone reminiscent of a noble's. Haughty, expecting, insulting. The guards hesistated, unsure of who she was and not wanting to upset her if she was someone of importance. "My... Apologies, my lady. We have orders to bring those who fought against the dragon to the council. Your... Hire was resisting-" She cut him off with a disainful glare. "On my orders. We are no corozens of Aureila... We have no responsibility to your 'council'. However," Kalixa paused, holding a palm up to forestall the angry protest. "We will deign to... Grant your request. As soon as I've finished harvesting what's left of the dragon."


She jerked her thumb over to the huge corpse laying beside them, despite being half covered in the church, the huge reptile still had a sizable amount of body easily accessable. "HARVEST?! Do you not see what has happened to the church? To the people? And you still dare to think about profit? You are despic- URGGHH!!"


Kalixa, growing tired of the human's rather naive, annoying rant flickered her eyes to Haidar's. Who promtly kicked the guard in the abdomen, causing him to double over in pain. Before the others could react, the waiior spun around swiftly. Backhanding an armoured knuckle onto the second guard, shoving the third into the forth and kicking both of them violently with a powerful forward lash of his foot. The last gusrd drew his sword, but Kalixa lazily swung a hand in his direction, sending a blast of air so powerful it blew the poor human off his feet and crashing into a pile of crates.


The sudden, vicious bout of violence took place inside five seconds.


The incident already forgotten, Kalixa clapped her hands together happily. "Now, lets see what we can gather before the lot of imbeciles wakes up, eh?" whoever was dead, well.. They wouldn't be contributing to the world anymore, and Kalixa had no time for anything that wasn't of use to her. Least of all dead people. Besides, whose great idea was it to bring a dragon into the coty anyways? "You know what to do, Haidar. Scales and fangs. Try to be careful when cutting out the wings, will you? I would love to have a dragon hide cloak. Dire wolf furr smells terrible when wet."


------


Eventually, they decided it was worth to see what the council was about. With Haidar bearing the large sack of dragon harvest, Kalixa just about skipped to the meeting place. They were acommpanied by wary guards double in number from the original squad. While they didn't appreciate what Haidar had done to their comrades, the council's orders were far more important than throwing these two outsiders into the dungeons. Far too chipper to match the surounding atmosphere. She skin seemed to shimmer with youth, and while she was no igly crone... She now resembled a girl barely twenty, as opposed to her true age of 250.
 
The dragon was now dead. Dante stood from a distance as the dragon's body was covered in rubble from the church. To the side of him, he saw Xian staring at the dead beast. Though he didn't favour cats, Dante was at least glad that someone was here beside him. Dante didn't relish the feeling of being alone, ever since his mother died and also the fact that he never met his father. Looking around, Dante saw a family of three, a mother and father both crying and hugging their child tightly. The family looked happy to have survived. He looked at the family as memories of his past came back to him.


-flashback-


"Dante! Dante! Oh there you are my boy." a sweet voice called out. Young Dante ran into his mother's arms hugging her tightly. "I want you to grow up a strong man, just like your father. Become whatever you want, have goals and reach them. Achieve great things for yourself, my child." she said lovingly.


It was a flashback that brought tears to Dante's eyes. He thought to himself that if his mother saw him now, she would not be proud. But circumstances led him to what he does now. A thief, a cons man, gambling addict and greedy for money just to survive. Dante took out a deck of cards and started to shuffle them. It seemed really out of place, but it was what relaxed Dante. He watched as the man standing atop the dragon holding the church's sword, giving out a speech.





"You. You're a wanted man." a sudden voice said from nowhere. Dante looked around as he saw a guard stand right in front of him. It was the same guard that Dante ran away from earlier. Jokingly, Dante spread out his deck of cards and asked the guard, "Pick a card." The guard stared at him with much distaste.


"I ain't falling for that again, you scum. But be grateful I'm not locking you up. I have orders to find those who were involved in this incident. You were brave, I'll give you that. And what about that pet cat of yours there?"





Dante gave the guard a stern look. "Animals have feelings too, you know?" he said to the guard.


"Anyway, follow me to the council tent." the guard said as he started walking. Dante looked at Xian as if to tell him to follow.


.......


But just as Dante had a better look at the cat's face, it wasn't Xian. It was another neko neko person. It was a woman too. "What are you looking at? Pervert!"


That was almost too embarrassing for Dante as he started walking faster and faster to avoid that woman. He wondered where Xian was?
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Dust.


Was that all the surrounded Xian? An endless amount of debris and dirt? The white tiger half-beast had awoken and found himself trapped under the remnants of what used to be the famous Church of the Sun Deity. It was a miracle that he was even alive but if he remained stuck in the oxygen limited space for too long he would waste the gift given to him by the heavens.


Making the mistake of breathing in too fast, Xian began to cough violently, causing pain to shoot to his torso. Covering his mouth with the collar of his shirt, Xian did his best to hold back his hacks and breathe slowly. What was going on? Xian furrowed his brows in concentration, doing his best to clear his confusion but his mind was muddled and it was difficult to think.


How did he get here? Opening his eyes, Xian squinted but his vision did not clear for another minute or so. He had an uncanny headache that only a concussion could give you. With that realization, Xian groaned but quickly ceased making such a noise because it made his headache worse.


Reaching up with his hand to hold his forehead, Xian pulled his fingers back to realize the sticky red substance on his hand was drying blood from his head. Deciding to just lie down and wait for someone to come find him, Xian began to weakly kick against the debris trapping him in but quickly came to the conclusion that that wasn’t a good idea when the wall dislodged and moved closer to him.


Closing his eyes, Xian wasn’t sure how much time had gone by until he began to run out of air. Beating desperately against the debris, Xian hoped that someone could hear it and after what seemed to be hours, the heavens blessed Xian with yet another miracle. The wall that trapped him under was thrown off by a three soldiers who worked efficiently to help Xian up.


Although it was nearing nighttime, Xian had to squint in order to adjust to the amount of light. Lifting his bloodied hand up to shield his eyes from the dim light, Xian didn’t know whether or not he prefered the darkness of being trapped to what used to be the great kingdom of Aurelia.


The stench of dragon filled the air as the beast’s corpse hadn’t been moved when it collapsed under the church. The atmosphere was still hard to breathe in as the ashes and smoke still had yet to clear. Leaning on one of the soldiers, Xian flinched when he came into contact with the thick layers of snow that had been packed down over time.


That’s when he saw the pile of dead bodies next to the fallen church. Many of the bodies were disfigured and bloodied by the crushing force of the collapsed building; Xian felt the fluids in his stomach churn and spew out of his mouth when the decomposing smell hit him. He could’ve easily been one of them. He could’ve died.


Recovering from his nausea, Xian nodded weakly to the soldier and continued to walk through the shoveled streets. “Where are we going?” The tiger half-beast asked, having not listened to the blabbering of the soldier when he was helped out of his previous predicament. The streets were littered with the injured and the mourning but Xian was able to witness first hand why Aurelia was able to exist surrounded by two strong empires for such a long time.


Despite the fact that their entire livelihoods were destroyed in a day, the people worked hard to care for the wounded and make sure that everyone had enough food, water, and a shelter to stay in for the night. The food and water reserves were destroyed but Xian observed a young boy scoop up some snow into a pot and melt it over the fire. The people of Aurelia persevered through the thick and thin.


“--for a meeting.” The soldier finished explaining where they were going but Xian had already tuned him out for the second time. However, the half-beast didn’t bother asking the soldier to repeat himself for the third time. He was going to meet with someone, that’s all Xian needed to know at the moment. Instead, he used what little energy he had to light a fire pit for more warmth.


Nodding in half-understanding, Xian slumped against the soldier and had to be dragged through the streets. “Mmkay…” Xian muttered, his cheek pressed up against the soldier’s armor. The young man’s head was throbbing in pain, he just wanted to bury his face into something, like the ground. However, it was only when Xian was about to be brought into the council’s tent that the gravity of the situation finally hit him.


They had slaughtered a dragon.


So many lives were lost during the fight to slay the beast. Xian’s mind recalled the images of the dead, lined up in an orderly line or stacked on top one another. The bodies were covered by a thin sheet of fabric in order to preserve the dead’s honour or protect the civilians’ eyes from the gore. His stomach churned at the thought.


Everything came crashing down on Xian all at once. The mist, the old man, the war cries of the soldiers; it was all too real for it to be a terrible nightmare. Slaying the dragon wasn’t a glorious act that his mother would be proud of, it was a horrendous event in which hundreds of people lost their lives to.


The soldier sat Xian down carefully on one of the chairs. “Sorry I couldn’t get you to a healer, buddy.” The soldier whispered. “This is a very urgent meeting.” With those words, the soldier left the tent, leaving the half-beast to fend for himself.


Instinctively, Xian’s eyes shifted around the tent in search for a familiar face. He found multiple; the cowboy wolf, the old man, and Mercer. “So, he’s still alive?” Xian thought to himself, not knowing whether he was relieved or apathetic.


“You all look like shit,” a strong voice commented, holding no expression in his tone of voice. Xian’s gaze flickered from around the room to the senior commander who was just entering the tent. “But that’s not why I gathered you here.” The other council members stood up in respect as they waited for the commander to sit down before taking their own seats again.


Folding his hands over one another, the middle aged man introduced himself as Ganon Marvis and began to explain the situation they had before them in a fast and efficient manner. “Gaia has been mostly at peace for the last seven hundred years,” he began, rolling out the large map of the land as he did so.


“The last time there was any major conflict was when the Great Cataclysm occurred in x234, when the spirits invaded Gaia.” Piras pointed out the obvious, placing down paper weights in order to keep the map from rolling itself up. She took her spot behind Ganon, standing proud and tall even through the chaos.


Ganon flattened the map with his hands and frowned. “Dragons are dangerous monsters, especially one of such great size.” Glancing over at the second in command for organizing the Monster Hunt, Ganon furrowed his brows. He gestured for the second in command to speak.


A young half-beast stood up and brought the attention to himself. “We would never bring such a large and dangerous beast into the competition and even if we did, Hana, our lead magician, assured the team that the magical barrier would not fail.” After a moment, the half-beast quickly sat himself down, having done his part.


“After examining the beast,” Ganon continued. “We came to the conclusion that it came from the Esreal Lands due to its massive size.” Pointing at the map with his index finger, Ganon pursed his lips before looking back up to the group of dragon slayers and those involved. “But there are traces of magical enhancements.”


Leaning his elbows on the table, Ganon’s expression never lightened. “There has been a sabotage of this event, someone, or something, wanted this kingdom destroyed.” Clenching his jaw, Ganon cracked his knuckles before standing up from the round table and staring down at the group of the involved.


“You will all be travelling to the Esreal Lands in order to investigate the sources of the dragon.” Ganon announced, leaving the map on the table as he readied himself to leave the tent. Grabbing his sword that was leaning on one of the legs of the table, the senior commander gestured to Piras and said, “If you have any questions or complaints, you will bring them to Piras.”


As swiftly as the commander came, he left the tent along with the other council members.


“He’s right, you all do look like shit.” Piras remarked, placing her hands on her hips. “This task is to be kept low key as Commander Ganon does not want to add fuel to the rumours that will spread.” The fiery haired elf sighed and lifted the flap of the tent. “And if it’s between you and me, I believe that this event is related to something bigger. Now go and get some rest, you depart in the morning.”


With that, Piras left and time went by rather quickly. The night was a cold and depressing one but with the appearance of the morning light, our heroes were alerted by the soldiers to get their belongings and meet Piras by the south gate.


The elf stood waiting with horses to aid the heroes on their journey. “Any last words?”


@Ashen Lily @Mercer @Silver Pansy @LeSoraAmari @Flabbysaurus @KaldorDraigo @Kasper @animegirl20 @Lavellan @Macbeth
 
Basil had visibly relaxed when Mercer walked through the entrance to the tent. Sure he was beaten, burnt, and overall looked to have seen better days (many, many better days by far), but he was still alive, and at the moment, that was really all that mattered. He had then almost immediately tensed up again at the gathered congregation of people he'd never met before and would rather never have to meet. The cheery Elf woman (@KaldorDraigo ) in particular freaked him out. Then he'd gotten plain pissed.


Who were these people to drop into his life and expect him to go on some grand quest that really had nothing to do with him. Sure, he had helped to kill the dragon, but it had been in the heat of the moment, when there had been lives right in front of him at risk. Besides, he wasn't affiliated with this kingdom, for all he cared Aurelia could have been burnt to the ground, he was under no obligation to go so far out of his way to fix their problem when all he really wanted was the comfort and familiarity of the desert. He wasn't going, not without the greatest most elaborate plan of motivation ever seen by mortal eyes.


Emotions clearly displayed on his face, his feathers of his wings ruffled and puffed in irritation, Basil spit his words at the woman who had stayed to answer their questions, the same one who happened to have brought him to the tent, with as much venom as possible, "Under what obligation do you think I am to obey you as if I were another soldier under your command? Just because I'm a half-beast doesn't make me any lesser than you." Perhaps that was not the true motivation behind the demanding words, but growing up surrounded by the Galandrian Empire, where that sort of discrimination wasn't uncommon, brought that as the first reason to mind.


"Just because I helped to slay the dragon this once does not mean I have pledged some form, any form of subservience to this ruined kingdom," he kept going, the hatred and anger building as he continued, as he reflected on his situation, as all the emotions he should have felt during the fight finally caught up to him. He was no Aurelian, no soldier, no mindless drone to order around as everyone pleased. He was a half-beast from the place of their origin, one of the few that had been born and raised in the great desert that separated all lands. He was free, and there was no way by any stretch of the imagination he was letting them take that away from him.


Basil realized he should have been scared, terrified even, by how upset he was getting, by how high he was letting his anger run, but he'd dealt with people treating him as inferior all his life, even when he'd had a pack to reassure him he was a valued member of their society, of their culture. It had been okay then, frustrating certainly, but understandable. He'd never earned their respect, never done anything to prove he was worth respecting, but that wasn't true here. Here, he had slayed a dragon, maybe not by himself, but he hadn't run, he hadn't turned tail and fled with the masses like any lesser being would have.


He had proved himself, he had shown them he was someone worthy of their respect, and they took that and cast it aside as if it were so much shredded paper. Letting out all the high strung emotion he could finally feel rushing to the surface, Basil pushed as much of his remaining magic as he dared into a desperate sort of free form, not sure what shape the spell would take, only certain that whatever it was would describe all his pent up emotion better than any words could. What he got was not anything like what he was expecting, but he had to admit it summed everything up quite nicely.


It wasn't an offensive kind of spell. Despite the kind of emotions flooding through him the only true aim was to express those emotions in the best way possible. A wind picked up, not a nice breeze or an uncontrolled gale, but a tightly controlled current of air spinning in a tight circle around the origin point, Basil caught firmly in the middle, several feet off the ground, exactly where he needed to be to control it perfectly. This was his anger, his frustration, and had he had more magic to pour into it, it undoubtedly would have been devastating.


By that point everyone in the tent had stepped back, getting away from the half-beast and his literal tornado of emotion. This was probably going too far, there was no need for this, no need to put everyone in more danger than they already had been in, but if everyone was going to get their release, then so was Basil. He hadn't cried in a long time, even with his inability to hide his emotions at all, crying had always been a kind of last resort for him, the one expression of emotion that was reserved for something that simply couldn't be expressed any other way.


There was another way this time, maybe not through words, but through magic, and this was his equivalent of grieving. He didn't get sad, it didn't fit with who he was, and there hadn't been someone for him to get sad over in a long time. But on a rare occasion, such as the destruction of a kingdom and the death of thousands of people, he did get angry. The one thing that deserved this outburst was already dead, but it had evoked so much fear there hadn't been any room for anything else. Now was his chance to let everything out, and he wasn't going to pass it up, not this time, these people were capable of defending themselves.


The speed of his twister picked up, collected dirt, dust, and ash turning it a dark brown speckled with black and white. It lasted for some time, exactly the amount of time it took for him to calm down, for all feeling to finally drain out of him in a relieving kind of exhaustion that marked the release of all the pent up negative everythings that he had never had a proper breaking point for. It died down slowly, and when everything had settled into a state of complete silence, Basil glared Piras, challenging her to speak one word about his outburst.


"I'd tell you 'no', but I think you get the idea." He took off, flying as fast as he could push himself away from that tent and that woman and those people and the expectation and everything that clashed with the very free nature he embodied as a bird. He didn't know where he was when he stopped, somewhere farther in the city where no one from the tent could see him, but high up and close enough that the ash laden corpse of the dragon was still very much visible. He might have gone, if they'd asked, if they'd treated him like he had his own thoughts and desires and goals, but not now, not after the way this entire situation had been handled. Basil settled down on the snow covered roof top of one of the only remaining buildings, prepared for the longest sleep of his life, and then a very serious reevaluation of his life.
 
Shiiral looked around the tent as he saw everyone else that had played a part with solving the dragon crisis began to enter the tent, ready for the meeting that was to come. As the meeting went on Shiiral listened contently, truthfully, he wasn't even interested. Well, he was, but he had no intention with helping these guys without a valid reason to do so. Shiiral was needed back in Leosa after all. After a few minutes of Ganon speaking, the middle aged man signalled for his second in command to speak, who by the looks of things was a half-beast. The boy spoke.


" Hana, our lead magician, assured our team that the barrier would not fail."


This claim amazed Shiiral, it even made him chuckle slightly. "Well, clearly your 'lead' magician was wrong. As it did fail. So go me she is either stupid, or just unfit to manufacture barriers. She should have assured that it would not fail, it should have been unable to be tampered with or changed, yet if sabotage is truly the cause then who's to say she didn't do it herself?" He spoke with a venomous tone, yet he knew what he said made some kind of sense. However he hated pinning the blame onto Hana, but right now all they could do was accuse as without the sufficient evidence they can't come to a conclusion.


The Elf sat there quietly as he listened to the Council ramble on, when they finally mentioned the reasoning as to why this meeting was issued. Shiiral was.. Well... Angry to say the least, he has a duty to the forest and the forest only, he can't leave the forest unprotected while he goes in a quest to help a kingdom that is in ruins anyway. Besides, he's done his part, the beast it dead.


Shiiral stood up from the seat he was sat in ans spoke. "I have something to say, if you will allow me." After getting a nod from the members of the Council he stood up and addressed himself, "As you may or may not know, I am Shiiral Il'Vhelan of Leosa, but I am mostly known as "The Guardian" so I guess that's what everyone here knows me as."


After having addressed himself in the typical Elvish way he sat down and then continued. "As you know, I have a duty to the forest... And only, the forest. Yet you expect me to embark on this quest to the Esreal Lands to investigate something of Aurelia's concern? If I'm honest, that's just stupid. You see, I can't leave the forest unattended, what if it gets invaded? What if the ancient magicks around the forest, protecting it, is weakened and I am unable to restore it? There are so many possibilities that all lead to one thing, the destruction of Leosa." Shiiral took a deep breath and let the anger flow through, now he was back to being calm. "Of course, Aurelia has my sympathy, but surely you understand that Leosa is my true concern and it is imperative that I stay within it's grounds. However, it isn't impossible for me to take you up on this offer and help you guys, but it will take a lot of convincing for it to be that way." With that he finally settled down and awaited a reply from the Council, it was evident that the gravity of the situation worried him since emotion was present in his voice. Now all he did was sit there, and wait for a reply from the Council, perhaps even this Hana could show up and explain how she tested the barrier, the idea pleased Shiiral, much more than the thought of Leosa falling into disrepair like Aurelia did.


 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)

Similar threads

KamenSniper223
Fandom Chainsaw Man; Devil War
Replies
1
Views
31
Superman64
Superman64
Breadman
Multiple Settings Plumbers: Welcome to the multiverse
2 3 adventure fantasy multiverse
Replies
54
Views
1K
Damian0358
Damian0358
TanteRegenbogen
Fantasy I Was A Villain But Was Reborn As A Demon In A Devastated World To Redeem Myself (Postapocalyptic Fantasy)
demons high fantasy isekai
Replies
1
Views
104
TanteRegenbogen
TanteRegenbogen
Back
Top