Fantasy The Dragon Wardens: Exodus

[Red Thunder]

Waethrin


The Ruins of Edlenfeld



​

"'Caution'? 'Caution'?"


The old man shot a withering glare at Cinder. He'd have expected one who carried such a name as she to carry with it a greater passion, even were she an Arcane Warden. But no: it seemed the woman was coward, too, and the disservice that cowardice did to her namesake was shameful.


"Damn your caution, woman! If we are 'in the jaws of the beast', I will not wait for it to swallow us without making it pay dearly for doing so!"


Beneath him, Ancalagon roared, and fire licked his maw. His Warden's passion, and perhaps desperation, had spread, awakening the Drake's fury. He looked at the other dragons present, saying through that glance in no uncertain terms that they were bloody rabbits cowering before the snake if they were not proactive. But he refused to wait, and Waethrin certainly did not attempt to restrain him. With a bound, Ancalagon sprang after the soldier in pursuit of whatever it was that had taken him, and in a brief moment they disappeared into the mist, their position only evident by the open flames Warden and Drake carried.


@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

 

[Effervescent]

Edlenfeld

​

The whispers continued, their voices now more hushed than before below the Dragon Warden's talking. What filled the air and echoed through the barely seen streets of Edlenfeld sounded like breathing. In. Out. Rasped and throaty and accompanied by the clanking of chains. But it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The flutter of wings and the rustle of fabric filtered through the dense sheet of grey, the strange purple glow still distantly refracted in the vapors.


"Over there," the whispers said.


"It is there."


"Don't go to it."


But where there was exactly had yet to be seen. Their direction would go unnoticed beneath the founded voices of the Dragon Wardens, Waethrin's in particular as he chided his comrades for their caution. Setting off into the fog would carry him through a couple blocks of buildings and a modest wall that surrounded Edlenfeld, mostly crumbled and torn down from past exposions. Beyond the wall was thick grey that would force Ancalagon to fly either low to the ground or far above the fog.


Within the field just past Edlenfeld was nothing at first, not even the soldier that had been torn away from his goal just moments before. The purple light grew brighter the further they flew. And then suddenly they would be met with hundreds of people standing about the tall grass, their expressions blank and their skin as white as the snow in the North. Lifeless eyes stared out at nothing, and they gave no reaction to the passing of a dragon or the wind from his beating wings.


All around within the fog were dark silhouets that seemed to hold no descernable location, almost as if they were moving with Waethrin and Ancalagon. Like ink in water, a mass of darkness flew towards the Dragon Warden matching his speed. Just as they were to collide, Waethrin would find himself faced with running right into Cinder and Voarex.


He was right back in Edlenfeld with his comrades, and the silhouette returned to the center of the town.


@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

Usolath

​

There was only a fraction of a moment when Thannel didn't recognize the boy who vouched for him.It felt like so long ago since the Silver Lance, but there was no mistaking Olsten, the boy who practically insured his freedom, long before he began asking about his comrades. Passing relief in seeing him alive relaxed his shoulders, but the tension returned as the Vuaturi collected his answer. The healer next to him stood on the tips of her toes to wipe away the crusted blood from his forehead.


“I'll go fetch Prince Asal,” Nrem stated as he drew his fur-liner cloak about his frame. The weary scouting party, slumped in their seats aside from Thannel, nodded their heads somewhat in response. Nrem took his leave as briskly as the wind that whipped snow from outside the grand hall’s doors. The chill blew through the room and stood still as soon as the door shut behind the Sur leaving the grand Everfire to heat up the space in a matter of minutes.


Thannel’s white gaze glanced over to Olsten’s new party of Dragon Wardens. Last he saw the boy, he had left his former friends in an emotional knee-jerk response to all that had happened. It seemed he could never truly get away, and now he was led right back into the fray.


“The others,” Thannel began as he looked down at the boy before him. The healer moved on to inspecting the Vuaturi’s fractured wrist. “I… They let me ride with them to the meeting at the Mouth of the Mountain. I met one of your former councilmen, Wuld. We were attacked by… Well, it seems there is a sect of your people who have taken up Shadow Magic.”


A few of the Sur elves gathered within the hall simultaneously gasped, their heads darting over to look at Thannel with wide eyes. Some of them shot skeptical glances towards the gathered Dragon Wardens or murmured quietly to each other behind their hands.


“So the rumors are confirmed,” one of the healers said.She couldn't help but look over at Raleia and Quinn as she spoke. It was apparent she was not the only one now concerned with the presence of the Dragon Wardens within Usolath.


“It is true,” Thannel said. “They killed Hale. I am sorry.” He bowed his head respectfully towards Olsten as he offered his condolences. “From there we flew East to the orcish advance in an attempt to peacefully negotiate terms and stop them from further damaging the Woodlands. We were split up from there. The orcs are headed to Rosenfall and do not wish to be deterred. They never gave us the chance to speak with them.”


“There are tens of thousands of them marching through the Woodlands,” a scout added. “We don't have the resources to combat that.”


“Nor do they wish to fight you unless you get in their way,” Thannel stated. “They have tunnel vision in their war path, and they would not explain.”


“Then what are we to do?” asked Thannel’s healer as she secured the wrapping around his wrist. “They will destroy our woods if we do not stop them.”


Back before the Haven fell, and back before the alignment of the Dragon Wardens were in question, this would be a situation where people would turn to the Dragon Wardens for aid and advice. The habit was still present in the Sur, their race that of magic and prolonged life giving some of them centuries of experience with working with them. But there was still the conflict of wondering whether or not these Dragon Wardens were on their side.


The dragons were given troughs of water. The Sur did not seem to be afraid of the beasts, though their minds seemed to be elsewhere in thought. Any saddles were removed and promptly cleaned, the satches of supplies set next to the Dragon Wardens where they sat in the hall. It was one of the other scouts that spoke up to break the silence.


"What do you suggest?" she directed to the trio.


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Macaberz]

Olsten & Grybil

​

The air shifted when Thannel spoke of Shadow Wardens. Cautious glances stabbed into Olsten's back. They were no longer allies, but unwanted guests. Olsten shrunk a little and shifted his weight from leg onto the other, anxious to get away from the suspicious stares. But something stung far deeper than the eyes boring into him and the others. It hit him like a splash of icy water. Now and until the end of his days, he would have to live with this burden. To never again be trusted. Not because of what he did or said, but because what he looked like. He swallowed.


Thannel spoke again, his voice ripe with emotion as he uttered those fateful words. Olsten reeled. Without meaning to, his legs carried him back one. . .two paces. He froze, mouth agape. Sheer horror crept into every inch of his countenance. He shook his head vigorously. "I don't believe you," he muttered. "It's not true!" Ice lingered in his voice. He didn't really know the Vuaturi. He had no reason, no real reason, to trust the elf.


Thannel's voice turned into a muted buzz as Olsten repeated those three words over and over again in his head.


They killed Hale. . .


They killed Hale. . .


They'd killed Hale!


He balled his fists, then relaxed them again.


Why? Why would anyone Dragon Warden kill another?. He'd never thought, never actually believed that one of them could've turned to the Shadow. Much less that one of his kind would've murdered someone as friendly as Hale. He could not imagine the half-elf having ever had any enemies. He could not imagine him to be truly gone. He'd left Hale and all those others behind. He'd discarded them. What he wouldn't give to turn back time, to at least have a chance to make things right. It could not be other Wardens. They were one people.


It wasn't until the healer spoke and sought their council that Olsten returned to reality. All of him was cold, as though he'd been hollowed out. His chin trembled and he could barely stomach to glance around the hall, to see those faces counting on him, Quynn, and Raleia to help decide their fate.


When he spoke, his voice was hollow and distant, as though he was speaking to ghosts. "Flee while you have the chance." He pushed past Thannel and stotmed towards the door. His left hand hovered over his blade and a hateful, foolhardy fire burned behind his eyes. His reckless, murderous intention was clear to anyone who cared to pay attention.


Not far away, Grybil stirred, reluctantly heeding his rider's call to action.


@Elle Joyner @JDParadox @Effervescent @Red Thunder

Orignal art by

Naznamy. Edited by me.
​

 

[Elle Joyner]

The situation within that meeting hall shifted so rapidly, it seemed to reason their welcome would be worn thin before they could be much help at all. The Sur were a sensible people, but the truth of what had happened in Edlenfeld could infect even the most shrewd of minds. Eyes that had watched in curiosity and desperation now turned dark with suspicion, and Raleia felt heat rise to her cheeks as she grimaced at the pointed words of the Vuaturi.


Gone were the days when they were a respected people, their wisdom sought by all men. Their judgment was in question, and that was a difficult thing to combat, even among the most peaceful race of elves.The question came to them, anyway, and Raleia opened her mouth to speak, but Olsten had already beaten her to it.


He’d told her of his previous travels with the other surviving Wardens - but so very little. Yet the pain he exhibited at the loss of a friend was felt in her as well, and she couldn’t blame him for his harsh response - not really. But it wasn’t helpful, not to convince the Sur they were on their side. Not in finding a solution to keep them alive.


“I’m sorry…” She sighed, after Olsten took off, her eyes moving to Nrem, to the other elves gathered, “Excuse me a moment.”


Moving past Quynn, she caught his forearm for a moment, “I’ll be right back.” And moving after Olsten, she stepped out into the frigid chill.


He was angry, and moving swiftly, but her stride was longer and ultimately, she caught up to him in a few quick steps, “Olsten! Wait!”


When she had his attention, a frown crossed her lips as she glanced at him, a small flicker of disappointment in her gaze, “Ollie, I’m sorry about what happened to your friend… but you can’t just run away like this! Tell me, what’s your plan? To go off on your own and seek revenge? Were you not the one who said that the mistake you made that first time around was splitting apart from the others? Yet here you are, doing the same thing again. Ollie, you’re not an idiot, but right now, you’re making a convincing play at it. Quynn and I cannot do this alone. We need you here, with us. Chasing ghosts and the men who made them will not make the pain fade… believe me, I know. But you have a chance to do some good here. Do not throw that away to honor a debt you don’t owe.”


Looking back to the building, to the warm orange glow pouring from the doorway, she shook her head, “Take a moment… gather your thoughts and follow them through to conclusion. If at the end of that you can still say this is the best option… then go. But I won’t watch you throw away your life, Ollie.”


Turning back to the building, she cast one more glance over her shoulder, “Make the right choice, Ollie…”


And with a shrug, she returned inside, unraveling her arms from the folds of her cloak to wrap a hand around her amulet. Stepping up beside Quynn again, she turned her attention, her focus from the stubborn boy outside, back to the matter at hand.


“...We could try to speak to the Orcs, call for a council. Though I have little faith they would alter course, even if they agreed to meet with us. I worry it won’t just be the woods destroyed if they cut through this way. An army that size… their immense numbers? They would devastate this village. I fear the best action you could take right now is to gather as many supplies as you can and move out of their path. We can offer protection while you travel, but even we’re not capable of going up against that many of them. Not so few of us, and in these conditions...”

@Effervescent @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Cinder and Voarex


Edlenfeld


Cinder gritted her teeth at Weathrin's rebuttals. If he wasn't riding that monster of a dragon she certainly would have pulled him by the ear to tell just how bad of a situation they were in. Unfortunately, the fire warden would leave no time for a response as he flew off and into the shadow. The arcane warden didn't even have it in her to call out after him. She was sure he would fly to his death, or worse, become one of them. They had come with questions, but Cinder kept questioning if she really wanted answers at this point. The whispers carried on the fading sound of massive wings flapping away, warning against what he was so gallantly, foolishly, charging towards. "Why does nobody ever listen when it matters? This is literally our specialty." With an annoyed grunt she pushed from Rasrik and clambered up onto her dragon. She wasn't about to go after him, but she certainly wasn't going to stay off of Voa any longer.


Voarex was glad to have her rider back where she belong, but quickly sensed danger coming from the rear. And it was massive. Voa pivoted quickly and nearly threw Cinder off as she crouched low and prepared to go airborne. The sounds of flapping wings was followed by a faint orange light growing larger and larger and coming right towards them. Cinder's eye's squinted but quickly went wide before a mental command sent them lurching up and to the side, just barely avoiding the giant that was Ancalagon. Voarex landed roughly on the rooftop of a nearby building, her weight causing it to groan and creak audibly. Cinder steadied herself and looked back towards where the mysterious silhouette lingered in the distance. "Waethrin, we're dealing with something that you can't simply burn away. You'd do be to follow the lead of the people who know what they're dealing with..." More or less.


Cinder had Voarex dropped from the building and moved up beside Rasrik and Valos the two were going to have to throw on the old thinking caps once more and crack yet another difficult mystery. She knew, more or less, what the shadow users were capable of as the burns on her back were a reminder enough within all this darkness. "I'm having a hard time picking through all of this shadow to find even one source of all of it. We may be dealing with either several casters or one...extremely powerful individual." She would not name name, she wasn't about to so readily damn to this town like the rest. He was not here. She sighed and turned to Waethrin, hopefully he had cooled his heels by now. "Did you manage to see anything out there or were you too high on adrenaline to notice?"


@Red Thunder @BookWyrm

 

[JDParadox]

Quynn

​

Perhaps he should have expected it. As the words were spoken, eyes narrowed and bore into him, now filled with the doubt and suspicions brought on by the actions of their fellows. Quynn found his hand wandering, seeking the old comfort that was the pommel of his sword, even if he had no intention of using it. It was only natural, he supposed, that the slaughter committed at Edlenfield would strike irrational fear into anyone's heart - he had not been surprised by the Thalls, though admittedly his own disdain may had blinded him - but to see that fear reflected back at him in the eyes of the Sur... It made him... uncomfortable.


Would these people here, when pushed in the right - or wrong - direction, turn on them as well?


And yet, the Sur still turned to them for help. Perhaps there was still an ally to be gained here. Perhaps not all hope was lost.


Quynn frowned, but nodded as Raleia followed Olsten outside. Though their interactions had been limited to passing glances, most of which were more or less hostile on Olsten's part, Quynn could still gather enough from what was said to understand his reaction. More loved ones lost. As if they weren't running out of those already. His eyes trailed after them as they passed through the doorway and outside, before quickly returning his attention to the room full of anxious Surs.


They were seeking an answer he did not have. Their missions was to stop the Orc's invasion; should they focus their efforts on vacating the village, leaving the army advances undeterred, there will be Orcish siege engines outside the gates of Rosenfall before long. And yet, he could not see any way this battle could be won, even if the Sur would join force with them. Instead, Quynn could only meet their gaze with silence. He breathed a sigh of relief as Raleia returned, even without Olsten in tow. There was one course of action left to them, which seemed to borderline on the impossible: Convincing the orcs to turn their entire army around head on their merry way home.


"The Orcs are still civilized, surely, they can be reasoned with. Somehow" Even as he spoke it, Quynn still doubted the merits of such a plan. What Olsten had said back at the campfire... The timing had been far too convenient. They should not rule out the possibility of foul play. Ironically, the thought gave him hope. If the Orcs had reached the decision to invade on their own accord however, persuading them was going to be much harder.


Though, there were other things he had to be worried about as well, like reassuring the Sur of their loyalty. "And should you doubt our allegiance, know that these fallen Wardens are as much our enemies as they are yours." leaning forward, Quynn tried muster as much confidence behind his words as he could manage. "Rest assured, we are here to help"


@Macaberz @Elle Joyner @Effervescent

 

[Red Thunder]

Waethrin


The Ruins of Edlenfeld

​

"Waethrin, we're dealing with something that you can't simply burn away. You'd do be to follow the lead of the people who know what they're dealing with..."


"Listen, you damned tart!" The old man's eye flashed angrily, the mild shock he'd found himself in from what he'd seen as well as finding himself back where'd he'd come from breaking beneath his firey spirit. "I have more experience than both of-"


But she was ignoring him, electing instead to have her and her dragon alight back on the ground as she spouted off orders. Damned Emasari. Then Cinder turned towards him and asked about his short trip. And he fell silent, too concerned with considering the short memory to offer up retort. More than just the short memory: the shadows of the dead here, or that was at least what he presumed them to be, awoke memories of his deeds as the Inferno, when that title had meant something. Not all of his actions were the stuff of legend. At least, not encouraging ones...

Decades Ago


Rosenfall Castle
​

Dead. The Thallas royalty, save Vivian and her husband, assassinated. It had taken a few days, but the Wardens who were present for the Market had tracked down one of the perpetrators. Thremin Woldrum, a Fallenite noble of more passion than sense had remained in Rosenfall after the deed was done, in spite of his rather vocal displeasure with the Thallas royal family's international policies prior to their deaths. Thallas investigators had 'encouraged' from Thremin information on his accomplices, and the Crown Princess had immediately began demanding war with Faledrin. Lisella, having been with her Mentor in Rosenfall for the Market, had fortunately been able to talk her into at least delaying sending the emissaries with hate-filled declarations, and Vivian had called a council of her advisors as well as the two Dragon Wardens.


It was a heated affair. It was generally known that Vivian would want severe recompense from Faledrin, and many of her advisors were only too eager to capitulate. Waethrin however was unmoveable in his conviction. As much as he enjoyed war, this would result in the unjust killing of innocents who likely had nothing to do with the actions of extremists. Indeed, if Thallas went ahead with this path, he might feel the need to intervene on Faledrin's behalf in the interest of protecting life. Unfortunately, the term 'coward' was thrown his way, and the offending throat was nearly ripped out.


But Lisella, ever the diplomat, had intervened. Justice had to be served, she stated, and life should be paid for with life. However, it should be the right life, and those who had no part should not be accountable for it. So the young Warden proposed a compromise: Faledrin would be sent an official grievance against their country, stating that the only recompense Thallas would accept would be the lives of the assassins. Should they refuse (as Vivian ominously predicted they would), the messenger would offer an arrangement to prevent war: each kingdom would offer a champion. If the Thallas warrior won, Faledrin would surrender the assassins for Thallas judgement. If the Fallenite champion won, Vivian would renounce her claim of vengeance. And of course, should Faledrin reject even these terms, full scale war could be pursued at Vivian's leisure, and the Wardens would step aside.


As with all good compromises, this idea was received with discontent on both sides. The Crown Princess, wronged as she was, was loath to allow the Fallenites the possibility of getting away with their crime, and her councelors of course supported her. Waethrin, and one or two old chancellors of wisdom, thought even the possibility of war was too much to allow. But Lisella held up a hand.


"It shouldn't come to war at all! I will be the mediator, as a disinterested party, and convince them of the wisdom and fairness of the arrangement. And," a mischievous gleam appeared in her eye, "good ol' Waethrin here will be the Thallas champion!"

"Are you kidding me?" Waethrin's voice rose in agitation. "I'll consider the validity of your compromise, but sending a Warden against a soldier, be he even an accomplished warrior, is completely unfair!"


Vivian stood suddenly, tears in her eyes but mouth tight in considered conviction. "No, but this is fair. Those beasts that took my mother and father did so underhandedly and disgracefully. It is only fair that Thallas should carry an advantage now."


Lisella smiled in affirmation, but Waethrin shook his head, unsure.


"I don't know, Your Highness. My identity alone as a Warden will encourage them to refuse such an offer, and-"


"But they won't be told. The arrangement will just state 'champion'," the younger Warden interjected, and her Mentor glared at her. She shrugged in response. "You know as well as I do that you're a far better fighter than me. I'd just get myself killed."


Waethrin huffed in response, but his eyes fell downward as he considered. If he fought, he'd do so against his moral code and his better judgment, unfairly, against an unsuspecting opponent. But if he didn't... A vision of blood seemed to engulf his sight, and for a brief moment he could hear nothing but the screaming of unarmed and fleeing women and children. Sucking on his teeth angrily, he glanced at Lisella. She'd be hearing about this later, and in great detail. Finally he nodded.


"Very well. I will fight to defend the memory of your parents, your Highness. And to prevent war."

The Present


The Ruins of Edlenfeld
​

"Ghosts, Cinder." Ancalagon had shaken him back to the waking world, long minutes having past, and Waethrin finally responded to the Arcane Warden's query with the emptiness of detached regret. "Just the ghosts of the unavenged dead."


@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

 

[BookWyrm]

Rasrik and Valos.

​

"Why does nobody ever listen when it matters? This is literally our specialty."





"Because, unlike us, most people can't tell the difference between truth and illusion." Rasrik climbed back into the saddle and patted Valos' side, getting a content rumble in return. "Fire Wardens in particular. Especially senile ones."


If Ras was worried about insulting Waethrin he didn't show it. Truth be told Ras knew he could probably take the old man if he wanted to. The old bastard has experience, but no one ever trains to fight things that aren't really there. During his years as a sword instructor Ras had several prodigies that went on to become renowned swordsmen themselves. Each one of them he put through specialized advanced, and very secretive, training. A large portion of that training consisted of learning to fight against Arcane casters. Not that a Warden would ever be likely to encounter one as an opponent, but Rasrik hadn't earned his rank and reputation by not being prepared.


When Waethrin finally returned Ras couldn't help but notice the Inferno seemed very shaken. Which for the most part was a good thing. After calling Cinder a damned tart Ras had half a mind to sever the old asses connection to his magic for a while. "Ghosts don't bother me. What put them here, that is another story."


Like Cinder Ras was finding it difficult to sense anything other than what felt like thick distortion. It almost had a feel to it. Something like sludge or mud would be appropriate descriptions. "I can't focus enough on anything to try and dispel the shade." Valos growled, unnerved by the lack of any concrete surroundings. "I know, I don't like it any more than you do."

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Cinder and Voarex


Edlenfeld


Cinder was concerned enough about everything else going on in the town to ignore Waethrin's attempts at a retort. Call her what he wanted, the arcane warden knew she was right. It was comforting, though, to know that Ras shared her disdain for the old man's stereotypical behavior. What was even better was that whatever the Shadow had shown to him, had gotten him to finally pipe down. So long as he wasn't going to run off again like a pet, they would be fine. Of course, she was concerned with his wording. "Ghosts..." She echoed, idly reigning in Voa was become more skittish.


"Whatever the case may be, it's evident that we can't leave Edlenfeld until we've dealt with whatever lingers." Her eyes set on the silhouette in the distance. It's mere presence was imposing and left a lump in her throat. But it was a challenge, she knew it. They'd either face the casters here, or die in the maze of illusions and become new additions to these 'ghosts'. "What Waethrin likely saw was the result of necromancy. I would not put it past those who work in the way of the Shadow to do something so...disgusting." She looked back to Waethrin, still bothered by what he saw "If we're going to be dealing with the undead, we will need you, it's imperative you listen to what we have to say."


"We won't get much done sitting around, and I don't like the idea of being ambushed on the ground." She gave Voarex a light kick and with a few flaps they were hovering up in the air. "Waethrin, I want you to lead us to where you saw these Ghosts. If they are closer to whatever is causing this mess, it could be easier to find our culprits.." She retrieved one of her spears from its quiver strapped to Voa's side and looked off into the distance. "And put them to the sword."


@Red Thunder @BookWyrm

 

[Effervescent]

Edlenfeld

​

The silhouette remained quiet and still in a mass of black shrouded among the fog at a distance. There still was no discernable shape, yet it felt as though it were watching the trio intently and almost curiously. But it seemed as though the Dragon Wardens did not reciprocate their curiosity towards it, and instead wished to focus their interests towards the fields past Edlenfeld's dilapidated walls.


As the wings of the dragons beat through the air, the wind seemed to sweep past the disembodied voices as though it were capable of pushing the whispers at bay. They moved further away, their words turning to hisses like air from a kettle before dimming to sighs. A gutturalcackle, baritone yet animalistic pushed through the fog and dissipated into a call akin to a crow's caw.


Fog clung as thick as milk to the ground rising high into the sky. It was a blanket light could barely penetrate. Flying above the fog would only result in the Dragon Wardens being unable to see what lies below the vapors. Flying through it too quickly would risk rushing into the unknown. The line of sight was perhaps only twenty feet ahead. It was unnatural.


As the trio flew past Edlenfeld into the fields, they would surely see what Waethrin had witnessed before. The purple glow that carried through the vapors flickered more brightly than before. The clanking of metal like chains echoed from somewhere unseen. They were close to something.


Below them would be the lifeless people staggering and wandering aimlessly through the grass. They looked lost, not just in location but in mind as they stared forward with glossed eyes. Upon further inspection, one could notice some of the ashen people looked far more gaunt carrying bodies with rotting flesh under dirtied attire. They paid no mind to the Dragon Wardens. There was no sign of the other silhouettes.


A sound of thunder cracked through the fields, reverberating in a low boom that rolled through the terrain. Another tone struck its chord low followed by the sound of a woman crying out in pain. She called out, but her words were too distant to be discernable. Whatever it was came from wherever the glow was brightest.


@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

Usolath

​

Thannel's brow pushed low in a furrow at Olsten's words. These Sur had asked the Dragon Wardens for advice, but they required more hope than pessimism. It was partially understandable, for the news the boy had received wasn't uplifting to any degree. The Sur watched as Olsten exited into the white expanse outside, the cold chill serving to ice over any shred of hope they had left. Not only were they facing an enemy that felt like an unstoppable force, their only hope for a chance to end this was the Dragon Wardens. The snow made travel too complicated.


The earth shook again beneath their feet in a tremor. Those from the scouting party were finally patched up and brought towards the hearth of the Everglow to rest. Nrem would return soon for a debriefing and would want to know of everything they saw. Raleia returned without Olsten, and a few of the elves tried not to notice or eavesdrop on the quiet conversation that ensued after. Thannel walked over to the two remaining Dragon Wardens, his injured arm now within a sling and his walk carrying a faint limp as he favored his right leg.


Quynn's words of assurance did not fall on deaf ears. While it did not wipe away any concerns completely, it did rekindle the faintest of hopes within the Sur. Their eyes studied Quynn as he spoke and lingered moments after as they considered his words and weighed them within his mind. All still wanted their prince to come soon, for as an Arcane Caster he could confirm their presences as clean.


Through the snow, Nrem passed by Olsten with Prince Asal at his side. The two glanced over at him with curious gazes, thoughNrem's was more questioning and confused. They gave the boy a nod, but did not stop to create small talk. The Sur were never one to waste time when they had a mission or a task to attend to, and thus they made their way to the great hall just up the hill upon the ground.


Those who could bowed low as the prince entered, and those that couldn't merely bowed their heads respectfully. Thannel bent at the waist, his uninjured hand placed over his heart as Prince Asal and Nrem approached him and the two Dragon Wardens. Asal eyed the three over intently, his piercing gaze of a light green settling upon their eyes in a stare one at a time.


"You are welcome here," he finally said as he opened his arms wide. Beneath his bearskin coat were robes of earthen hue. The only indication he was royalty was the decorative circlet that rested atop his head. The whole room seemed to collectively relax at the prince's welcome as though he absolved any further doubt in what the strangers could be.


"I am Prince Asal," he introduced. "I've been overseeing the endeavors to keep our northern woodlands intact. Nrem has already briefed me on what is known." He then looked to Raleia and Quynn. "As I understand it, your people have been driven from your home to not only watch it be destroyed, but your own people as well. You must understand, we are trying to prevent the very same. I formally request the aid of the Dragon Wardens to help us keep this as peaceful as possible. We are not equipped for war against so many."


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Elle Joyner]

This was, in entirety, what they had trained their whole lives for. A diplomatic mission to prevent war. And Raleia should have felt confident, at best, that they could accomplish the task set before them. But the weight in her stomach was not a fortifying one, but anxiety, nearly overwhelming. They had come to help, and she wasn't going to back out, but her optimism was greatly limited by the notion of how desperately outnumbered she and Quynn were.It was difficult not to be frustrated... By their circumstances, by the other Wardens, and their refusal to aid the Sur... for leaving her and Quynn and Olsten to handle it all on their own.


The arrival of the prince was surprising, and as he approach, she bowed her head in respect, but there was a fluttering in her heart as he spoke, his words oscillating in her mind. They couldn't walk away. Even if it was the best option. Even if it was what made the most sense, forcing these people to abandon their homes, their village to run away from a problem that should never have been so difficult to face. It was, quite potentially, suicidal... what they were endeavoring to do instead, but what choice did they have?


Looking to Quynn, she frowned softly. He was prepared, she knew, just from his words earlier, but it wasn't going to be easy. They had their work cut out for them, and if Olsten didn't come back, it was only going to be harder. They had nothing to work with but their training. And it would have to do. Turning her eyes back to the prince, she nodded, "We'll leave at first light... intercept the Orc and call for a council. But you must be prepared for the possibility that they will not hear us. And if that happens, your people are not safe here. You should be be ready, in case there are no other options but to leave."

@Effervescent @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Macaberz]

Olsten & Grybil

​

Seething, Olsten plowed through the snow. He did not look back, despite the approaching footsteps behind him. He knew it was Raleia before she even called out to him. Yet even when she did, he did not halt immediately. It wasn’t until she’d caught up with him on her accord that he came to a complete standstill. She would only catch a brief glance of his flustered face before he cast his head down and away from her piercing gaze. He could barely hear her speak over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, or the whistling gusts of wind that lashed them with shards of snow.


She stabbed him with his own words. His promise to not split off again. But that had been at a different time. There had been hope then. A speck of light at the end of the tunnel. Now, it had all but faded away. He shifted and turned his back on Raleia.


“Us?” he whispered. “It’s us now?” Oh he had seen them look at each other. Yet he’d hoped against hope that there was no affection between the half-elf and Raleia. In that regard, she was damn right to call him an idiot. Everything else however, was a lie. A well-intended, well-crafted lie, but a lie nonetheless. They didn’t need him at all. He was a nuisance, a leech on their supplies and a hindrance to their privacy. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to assume he was the last Dragon Warden of his generation, and that made him an outcast. He had no say in it and no matter how many honeyed words Raleia whispered into his ears, he would always feel that way. Just as quickly as she had arrived, she left, and he didn’t know whether to be glad or angry about it.


News of Hale’s passing was too great a burden. A rucksack laden with guilt and hopelessness. He hadn’t really known the half-elf. No more than he knew Quynn. If anything, Thannel’s news was a stark reminder that he could ill-afford to let anyone near, or he might lose them too.


He didn’t know for how long he remained standing in the snow with gritted teeth and clenched fists, but he remained long enough to see Nrem and the Prince pass him by. No words were exchanged. Nor were any needed. They merely glanced at him and he glanced back, his gaze both cold and hot at once. His insides burned up while his digits grew numb. He imagined his immediate surroundings vaporizing into a thick, boiling steam.


And then it hit him.


He whirled around and stormed back into the meeting hall. All his moroseness and sullenness had vanished. “I’ve got it!” he shouted, not caring the slightest if he interrupted anyone. “I’ve got it!”


This was not the same boy that had advised routing and abandonment. This Olsten grinned from ear to ear and sustained the ensuing tension for a little too long.


“It’s steam! Think about it! We’ve got plenty of ice and fire. We could use it as a diversion, or to slow their advance, or to cover a retreat or…” he waved his hands about, “we can do whatever, if negotiations fail. Only,” his excitement subsided a little, “I am not sure what would be left of the forest if we set everything ablaze…”

Orignal art by

Macaberz
​

 

[Red Thunder]

Waethrin


The Fields Outside


the Ruins of Edlenfeld
​

Unnatural. That was the definition of Shadow Magic. And now this whole land about Edlenfeld felt unnatural, as if the Shadow had infected the very air. Indeed, the fog felt unclean to Waethrin, and it bothered him no small amount that he felt entirely useless against it. From leaving the village to present, he'd fallen silent, introspective in his memory and the vague dread he'd felt chasing phantoms through the mist. But he stirred again, and at the sight of the Dead below them, he pointed.


"And do you think we are any closer, oh Arcane one? Apart from these damned, there is little here for us to even concern ourselves with. See?" The old man pointed again, indicating the particular lack of interest in them the corpses showed. "Hey care not for our arrival here. Now, the blackness in the village? That was worth investigating. If you hadn't led us on this goose chase-"


A cry; a plead for help? Whomever it was clearly was in distress. He paused: she had just chided him for pursuing the soldier into the mist in his failed rescue attempt. But he had not earned his title by listening to the commands of his inexperienced supervisors. The Inferno glared daggers at Cinder.


"Damn your caution, Emasari."


As the voice called again, Waethrin turned to face it, and Ancalagon flew off like a shot toward the glow, and to find its source.


@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

 

[JDParadox]

Quynn

​

And it was so that the prince of the elves had arrived to greet them, in all his simple dignity. He radiated royalty, though not in his clothing, for they were plain and functional but for the circlet that graced his brows, much unlike that which Quynn was used to back on human soil. It was in the way he carried himself and his manners of speech, confident and with calm authority. But the most obvious sign of all, perhaps, was how the other Surs had grovelled as he entered.


Quynn turned to follow their example and bowed deeply, though his pride ached the further his back was bent; yet he knew better than to risk insulting royalty. Swallowing it, he lifted his head to listen to his words. He could see the others sighing visibly as the Prince officially, welcomed them, and felt a grudging respect at this sign of leadership. Quynn had not had great experiences with royalty, though this one seemed neither the pompous nor murderous sort. Still, he had to stifle a scoff as the man spoke on about Haven and their current miserable state. Something in his tone had tickled Quynn. Destroyed was putting it lightly. Hunted down and slaughtered was closer to the truth.


Quynn had waited for Raleia to finish. If they should fail, Maker forbid, they'd have a much bigger problem than just Orcs trampling through Sur lands. "This snow is hardly travelling weather, they'll be hard pressed to put distance between them and the warbands" He leaned over and spoke softly so that none but him and Raleia could hear it. Quynn had noted the look Nrem gave him at the gates, when he had unwarily spoke ill of the Sur's prowess in the winter, and now dared not voice his concerns aloud lest someone in the crowd shared Nrem's sensitivity. "They should already be packed and moving. They have already admitted to not being prepared for combat, perhaps we should advise them-"


Olsten bursted through the doors without much in the way of care for manners, suddenly brimming with an excitement Quynn had not thought possible in the boy. For the briefest of moment, Quynn's brows furrowed as he considered leaving the boy behind to assist the Surs, lest his youthful tempers ruin what little chance they had at coercing the Orcs. Quynn wasn't sure if Olsten had noticed his expression, but did not see reason to hide it.


Still, he let the boy speak, as he himself had known what needed to be done and would leave the planning to those with more heart for it. Quynn himself was a soldier first and then a diplomat, but never a tactician. He lacked not the mind, but rather the patience. Steam, from ice and fire. For afterwards, should they fail. It was not without merits, though only applicable if they should survive the Orcs.


For now, his plans were to rest and prepare for an impossible negotiation.


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz @Effervescent

 

[Effervescent]

Edlenfeld

​

Waethrin and Ancalagon flew through the fog, the glow emanating brighter and brigher. The voice was calling out as flashes of blue perforated the cloudy vapors. Dark shadows flew through the air matching the dragon's speed, twisting and turning like lines of black ink dropped within rushing waters. They rustled like fabric as they crossed paths in front of Ancalagon. Their form was undiscernable as they flew. They did not touch the Dragon Warden, at least not quite yet.


The woman's voice grew closer, and it was clear she was calling out a name. Within the fog, Waethrin and Ancalagon would approach the purple glow, the light near piercing as they reached the source. It was a swirling vortex of Shadow Magic; the very essence of darkness emerging in tangible form, and it was massive. The vortex churned slowly, hovering above the ground where within the center appeared a completely different scene. Snow blew through the center. It was like a window to another place wherein another battle was currently being fought.


Upon closer inspection, strange figures would comprise the makeup of the ethereal window that massively reached through the fog and disappeared within the grey. Down upon the surface, twelve figures held their hands up to the gateway, waving it about in their incantations to keep the connection flowing. The shouts carried past the gateway where in the field a woman with fiery red hair was being overrun by dark figures that seemed to appear and disappear out of nowhere. She would swing her sword and thrust her arcane magic towards her assailants, but they kept their advance.


"Eosphelon!" the woman called out. There was no response. Only the otherworldly groans and growls of what lurked within the heavy fog.


@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

Usolath

​

Prince Asal's shoulders relaxed as Raleia declared their aid to negotiating peace. It seemed the two were on the same page in concerns, and he gave a small nod in agreement. "We have been preparing for the worst scenarios," he explained. "Their massive weapons need proper space to maneuver through, and the Woodlands is very thick."


There was another rumble that shook the earth under their feet. Nrem cursed the orcs angrily, and while Asal glanced towards the man, he did not speak upon the language. He waited until the moderate quaking ceased before speaking again. "The children of Usolath are safe within the Rooted Halls. I doubt the orcs would think to look for our kind-"


The doors to the hall burst open to reveal a revitalized Olsten framed by snow. His voice carried to the group with energy, and all eyes turned to the boy with curiosity. They followed his words, holding onto them with their hope as a plan was set before them. Yet it was quickly dashed away by a poor choice in the boy's wording. As soon as they heard the potential of their precious forest being set on fire, their heads turned away, brows furrowing and jaws setting as yet again they were left with nothing.


Prince Asal stared at the boy. Was there potential in the plan? It was far too risky to consider, as their entire endeavors were to mitigate damage to the Woodlands of Valnahar entirely. Even though negotiating with the orcs seemed like a fool's errand, it was still the better choice.


"Olsten, was it?" the Prince asked. Nrem and Thannel nodded in quiet confirmation next to Asal, and with that he continued. "Your idea is strong, but we must preserve our forest as we are its protector. I will not dismiss your plan entirely, but it will only be considered as a last resort if negotiations fall short."


He turned to Raleia and Quynn once again, his stance falling rigid as concern creased his forehead. "Do you have any ideas how we can convince the orcs to divert their advance past our borders? It would delay them considerably, but it is the only way I can think of to keep them from further damaging our sacred land. Judging by reports, it is possible they are due to move right through Usolath, if not close by. I am not certain we have much of value to them."


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Elle Joyner]

As Quynn leaned in, his voice lowering, a frown found Raleia's features, her thoughts moving in much the same direction. She had little hope that any sort of negotiations would run smoothly enough to delay the inevitable. The Orc had seen a weakness in Rosenfall and however unintentionally, the Wardens that remained had made that weakness all the more apparent. She had no mind for strategy in combat, but she was smart enough to know were she the opposition, now would be the optimum time to strike. No matter how convincing they were, she would not see the Orc walking away from such an opportunity. Not when victory seemed easily within their grasp.


The best option they had was to ensure the elves got out safely. She understood their need to protect the forest... it was their calling and she would never suggest they ignore that in favor of escape. But if they lost their lives to save their homes...


But she got no chance to voice her concerns as the doors slammed back and Olsten returned, his approach carrying an air of urgency. His return was met with a small glimmer of surprise from Raleia, who stepped back to allow him access to the prince and Nrem. His suggestion caught her off guard, and she knew before looking at the others that the idea of setting fire to the forest wouldn't be favorable, but it was certainly something to consider if things went poorly with negotiations. Or perhaps when... things went poorly with negotiations.


As Prince Asal continued, he spoke the very words she was thinking, then turned his attention back to her and Quynn. His question was expected, but there was no easy answer, "I don't imagine trying to appeal to their sensibility would be effective. I imagine it's not simply a matter of the quickest path to Rosenfall, either. Removing as many obstacles as they can from their path makes conquest all the more easy in the end. My only thought is to make them think there are more of us than they realize. If we could somehow trick them into believing the sack on Haven wasn't as successful as everyone thinks... we could possibly drive them back. The question is... how? It's not exactly an easy feat pulling wardens and dragons from thin air..."

@Effervescent @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Cinder and Voarex


Edlenfeld


Cinder followed the elder Warden deep into the fog. Her environment was offensive, she could feel shadow magic hanging in the air like humidity. No matter how high they flew, it remained and it was bringing doubt ever further into the arcane warden's mind. She remained silent while in flight while her eyes and ears were on high alert. If there were any shadow wardens mucking about, she wouldn't doubt that they could swoop through this fog and take them like a hawk does a sparrow. That was the death she feared the most, the one she wouldn't she coming, where everything was over before she knew and she couldn't fight back. Every so often she would check behind her for Rasrik, just to make sure he was still there and hadn't become a sparrow himself.


When they reached the fields, Cinder took in a sharp breath and almost threw up at the stench that greeted her. Below stood numerous undead standing idly about. None of them cared for the arrival of the wardens, a fact that Waethrin was all too eager to point out after his bout of silence. She figured he could only go on for so long before something had to come out of that big mouth. She shot the man a look and wondered if he was truly always like this, or if the shadow was affecting his mind. Any retort she was preparing was cut short by the sound of a woman's cry in the distance. Waethrins last words cut like daggers through the fog towards her and all she could do was grit her teeth and follow.


As she gave chase, Cinder could finally get a sensible hold on the center of the shadow magic she was sensing since her arrival. She spotted shadowed figures keeping pace with Ancalagon and wondered if the fire warden even knew they were there. Whatever they were rushing into, it was likely going to end up in a fight. In this hotbed of arcane insanity, there would be no quarter given. But she was not prepared for the scene that presented itself to her open catching sight of the portal. Her eyes went wide at it's size and the sheer amount of magical energy being put out by it. If she could hear magic it would be deafening. Inside the portal she could see what appeared to be a female warden being assaulted by shadowed figures. Wherever she was, it was not here, the snow blowing from the portal saw to that.


Her assessment of the situation was immediate when she spotted the figures at the portal's base. It seemed shadow casters were assailing this woman, somehow through the portal. If they disrupted those dozen, perhaps they could save the warden beyond the portal. For once caution was going to be throw to the wind, all for the sake of her kind. She looked back to Ras and hoped he was nearby. "I'm going to disrupt those caster with Waethrin, back me up however you see fit." With a kick, Voarex shot forward towards the fire dragon and warden. "Follow me and watch your flames! I'll take the six on the left!" She called as she swooped down towards the group of casters. Adrenaline and focus drove her features cold as she decided her plan of attack. Fast and brutal. She intended to have Voarex come in at full force and land on one of the casters and use their forward momentum to swing her barbed tail like a club across the other five. She doubted that they had the element of surprise, but they could move fast enough to cause some form of disarray in the ranks of the enemy to buy time for actual strategy.


@Red Thunder @BookWyrm @Effervescent

 

[Macaberz]

​

Olsten

​

His plan was not entirely dismissed. Nor was it embraced. The Sur appeared hopeful for a moment, then resigned, their gazes turning grim once more. Olsten caught Quynn's furrowed glance, burning with disapproval and annoyance. It puzzled him a great deal.


It was only after the prince spoke that he noticed the stern, regal posture that marked Prince Asal from all others. The Prince's bearcoat made him broader and taller, but above all; fiercer. Olsten's stomach turned when the Sur's light green eyes bore into him. A power eminated from the Prince that forced his own eyes downward and bent his spine into a shallow bow from which he didn't recover until after Asal turned to face Quynn and Raleia. Hopefully the Sur weren't really as uptight about manners and respect as his training at Haven had made him believe for he'd likely shown too little, too late.


Again the Prince spoke, though Raleia's answer probably wasn't the kind of masterplan Asal had hoped for. It seemed unlikely the Orcs would accept that there would be more Wardens, let alone that the prospect of facing more Dragon Wardens would give them any pause. It might even embolden them for there was likely plenty glory to be gained in killing a Dragon Warden.


"I have an idea-" Olsten muttered, not quite sure how else to draw the Prince's attention but to start speaking. "A different one," he said a little more loudly. His throat felt dry and cold and voice sounded hoarse and hollow. "You do have something of value. All things that are rare are valuable, aren't they?" Perhaps not all things. Girls had been painstakingly rare in his experience perhaps precisly because he didn't consider them all too valuable.


"Right now..." he swallowed, a bitter expression marred his face. "There's fewer of us Dragon Wardens then there have ever been." He paused, his thin lips settling into a thoughtful frown before he continued. Like a blossoming flower, a new plan had bloomed in the young boy's mind. A better plan. Not a plan of peace or violence, but a plan of deception. A scheme. A temporary solution to buy the most precious resource in the world.


Time.


"The Orcs must've heard of Haven by now," his voice gained confidence. "And they must know or have heard that the Thalls were among the attackers. So if they march on Rosenfall and we Dragon Wardens propose to march with them...to defeat our mutual enemy at the Thall capital..." Olsten glanced around the room again and wondered if those present reached the same conclusion as him.


"Your highness, don't you think the Orcs would take the bait? Once we have their trust we can tell them that these parts are too cold and narrow for an army to pass through. We can lead them elsewhere and buy you and your kin time. Time to prepare, or time to leave..."


"If you so desire, I'm-" he glanced at Prince Asal, "I'm willing to stay here with your kin, as an assurance that my fellow Dragon Wardens will not betray your trust when they join the Orc army. Besides, I might be less of a burden to them that way..." His gaze found Quynn and Raleia. "I have reason to believe they would value a little more privacy together, " he added with a shrug.


@Effervescent @Elle Joyner @JDParadox

Orignal art by

Naznamy. Edited by me.
​

 

[BookWyrm]

Rarik and Valos.

​

The scene unfolding before Rasrik's eyes as the three Wardens plunged deeper and deeper into the fog shook him to his core. What devlry could summon this? It was a redundant question, of course, but sometimes it felt good to seem naive. Hell, Rasrik wished he was completely naive to the knowledge of the Shadow Wardens, but his alignment meant that he was destined to fight them if they ever appeared. Yet, still, the sight of the Shadow Casters attacking the Warden through the portal was both horrifying and awe inspiring.


"Be careful, Cin." Ras allowed himself that one sentiment as Cinder rushed into the fray with Waethrin. I just got you back, I don't want to lose you again. Rasrik closed his eyes and focused his magic, letting it take shape into the likeness of a spear. "Alright Valos, you know the drill. Just like hunting back in Haven."


Rasrik had mastered the sword for certain, but he had taken up a fancy with spear hunting, especially from dragon back. There was nothing quite like standing toe to toe with a massive boar for certain, but having the mobility and added force behind the impact of a spear thrown from his saddle, plus the satisfaction of knowing you just stuck a boar from the air whilst riding a moving dragon, well, how couldn't you enjoy that? It even feels like hunting, Ras thought as Valos circled the casters below. With a precise eye and a practiced aim Rasrik hit the ground near his intended target. Damn. Immediately after impact the conjured spear disappeared and was re summoned to Rasrik's hand.


Maybe it'd be smart to take Cin hunting sometime soon? The second throw hit the target. Low and to the right. I was aiming for his heart, that looked more like a liver. Valos mewled and made a sound that almost echoed a chuckle. "Do you know how long its been since we've done this?"


A grunt in response.


"That is just rude."


Valos grumbled and made a dry, throaty hiss.


"Alright, I can accept that. It still doesn't let you off for the other, though."

 

[Effervescent]

Edlenfeld

​

A weapon crafted entirely of Arcane energy pierced through one of the Shadow Casters locked within the ritual at hand. While no flesh was opened, the blue energy in the shape of a spear struck through him and felt just as real. His hands moved to slowly grasp for the weapon, but met with nothing as it disappeared. Another of his brethren was struck through and fell in agony. The portal before them began to flicker as its strength waned.


It was an image of snow, and the snow billowed through the strange ethereal window and collected on the ground near where a Dragon Warden fought off a band of Shadow Casters closing in on her quickly. She kept looking towards the portal, calling the name "Eosphelon" as she fought off her enemies. It seemed as though she had come from the portal, and she wanted to get back to it. Looking into the portal just right would reveal a massive battle in the Northern lands. Shadow casters on the other side fought against orcs and what looked to be a small gathering of Dragon Wardens swooping within the skies on their dragons. But as the injured and dying portal casters lost their strength, so too did the portal.


The souls that comprised it dissipated into the fog in shrill and ear piercing cries. It sounded as though thousands were pierced with pain that fizzled into a collective hiss like a snake. Voarex's tail smashed through a set of Shadow Casters along the muddy ground, and the dragonless Warden stepped back and away from the blow as she unsheathes her two daggers. It wasn't enough to fight against them without the proper magic output. Whatever blunt force or attempted piercing that went through them seemed to only set them back without magic. Around them were the wreaths of darkness designed to protect them from mediocre casting; a spell she was all too familiar with attempting to handle.


"No!" She cried out as she saw the portal disappear from view. The purple glow dimmed to grey, and the darkness within the fog grew ever darker despite the day. Those at the portal moved straight into action against their oppressors casting spell after spell towards the Dragon Wardens in flight. They were drastically outnumbered, and the odds did not look to be in their favor in the slightest.


@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

Usolath

​

Thannel's gaze fixated on Raleia's pendant for a time as he reflected upon the ideas being tossed within the group. There was something familiar about it, and it became a distraction as soon as it hit him. He averted his gaze entirely by that point, a hand raising to his forehead where his wound began to throb. Having been up against the orcs not but a day earlier, he knew their tendency towards violence before talking. The other injured Sur from the scouting party shared Thannel's sentiments silently as they all waited for their prince to speak on behalf of all Sur. There was still hesitancy noted within their bodies as their eyes shifted to one another. Asal was keen to pick up on the uncertainty within his own that traveled further Northward to assess the orcish advance.


"How indeed," Prince Asal said in thought, his voice trailing off as he brought his thumb to brush up against his lower lip. His eyes flecked back towards the boy who spoke once again, this time with a plan that piqued his interest more readily. The hand lowered back to his side slowly as he considered the plan, his eyes looking back to the more senior Dragon Wardens of the three for affirmation.


"Would this work?" he asked Raleia and Quynn. "I would not want to-"


His voice was cut off by the sound of elven horns piercing through the winter winds. All heads turned towards the door, and a few men stood from where they sat, their hands instinctively reaching for their weaponry.


"There is no one left to return," Nrem explained. Shouts could be heard outside of the Great Hall that grew closer and closer.


"It seems we have an unexpected guest," Prince Asal surmised. The doors swung open to invite the cold air through once again, flecks of thick snowfall trailing in as two orcs carrying a white banner were escorted into the Great Hall. Prince Asal stepped towards the unexpected pair, his thick bear coat and broad features making him look almost as bulky as the two grizzly looking orc. "This is honestly unexpected after what you did to my people," the prince said as he motioned to the injured.


The two orc stared at Prince Asal with an unsettling expression of neutrality. It was what appeared to be a male and a female, both just as intimidating as the other. Thick hides and furs covered their massive frames while their dark hair was braided and formed into dreadlocks adorned simply with metalwork. They looked just as primal as the Sur in their fashion, but despite this the Sur still looked far more human in features. The male orc's lips curled around his tusks to an almost sneer before he spoke in the common tongue, his voice heavy with an accent.


"You want to dwell on the past," the orc began, "or do you want to negotiate terms through your land?"


"We will negotiate as long as you allow the Dragon Wardens to mediate," Asal stated as he motioned towards the red heads in the room. The two orcs studied them carefully and briefly exchanged words in their native tongue before answering.


"We will allow it," the male orc said. "But only if they confirm what happened to their people. Word came to us of the fall of their home."


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Macaberz]

Olsten & Grybil

​

Horns sounded, rumbling through the air like rolling thunder, quavering notes lashed at by the winter wind. The doors swung open, allowing the bitter cold to bite at his skin before being shut out again. Alarmed, he backed away from the entrance to the Great Hall. A glimpse of naked steel peeked from the scabbard dangling at his right as his left hand gripped the hilt ready to draw the blade fully. The two hulking forms that emerged, flanked by their escorts, was unlike anything he'd ever seen. He'd never before understood why Dragons were often more feared than beloved, but now he could begin to fathom it. As much as he wished to show no fear, his eyes still widened, his jaw still slackened, and his grip on Scratch still tightened. The very air shifted, as if all contained in the hall had drawn a deep breath and were holding it as one. Then, the Prince spoke. His demeanour regal, yet incapable of hiding surprise.


Never before had he seen an Orc up close. He'd thought them tough and tall from drawings he'd seen and the books he'd read. Unmannered wild things with an appetite for violence. What the books and tales failed to convey was how tall and broad Orcs truly were, and how stone-faced. Tusks the size of a swine, hair knotted like thick ropes and skin corded with veins...now he grasped the Sur's plight.


When the male Orc spoke, Olsten struggled to latch onto the common words, buried beneath a harsh and guttural accent. If, by some magic, a boar were to obtain a voice, he thought it would sound like tweeting birds in comparison to the grumbling noises that the Orc produced. Yet he managed to decipher the Orc's garbled intent.


His brow furrowed into a hakwish gaze at the mention of Haven. Did they not yet know? Were there no Orc spies and messengers? Teeth pressed into his lower lip as he considered the strangeness of the demand. For all they knew a party of heavily armed orcs was waiting outside the Sur village, ready to clear the path for the orc army once they knew that there would only ever be three Dragon Wardens in their way. He didn't wish to speak first, but the threat of Raleia giving the orcs their answer without question forced him to act. Quynn had never struck him as a tactician, but he imagined that the half elf's skepticism would at least make him wonder why the orc made this demand.


"You will know the truth once the negotiations are settled," he said as let go of Scratch's hilt and left his arms to dangle at his sides. "It seems to me this is a about a matter between Sur and Orc, not about Dragon Wardens."


Burdened by a sense of responsibility he elected to say no more and silently slid onto the nearest seat, brooding. Waethrin’s weathered old voice reverberated in his head: let the adults speak. And so he would. While they spoke, a plan was already shaping in his head should negotiations fail. Pride and a hunger for violence rested at the heart of orc society, if he remembered his lessons well enough. If that was so, and if things should get out of hand, perhaps the orcs could be seduced to a duel. Their best Orc against the best Sur, or perhaps...


He glanced in Quynn's direction.


The darker turn his mind had taken failed to shock him. Instead, it scratched an itch in the darkest crevices of his meandering thoughts. His better half berated him in a wordless frenzy, yet he couldn't stop thinking how much easier things would be if Quynn was gone. Perhaps then Raleia would have an eye for him again. Perhaps she would cry on his shoulder if the Orcs best warrior snapped Quynn's neck like a twig...perhaps then she would stop mulling over that useless amulet and accept that he was meant to be with her.


Or perhaps she would be as brave and sacrificial as she had always been. Perhaps she would volunteer to fight for the Sur. And perhaps...perhaps she would lose.


His gaze settled on the orcs again and he silently prayed the overgrown swines would have some reason.


@Effervescent @Elle Joyner @JDParadox

Orignal art by

Naznamy. Edited by me.
​

 

[Elle Joyner]

Olsten, who Raleia decided was unfortunately prone to leaping about before looking once more voiced a plan, which, to Raleia's chagrin was about as logical as rushing to the Orcs and fighting them single handedly. She and Quynn were well trained, but they were hardly an oppositional force. Even if it weren't absolute suicide to assume a feigned alliance with the Orc - it was utterly foolish for the two of them to attempt anything so brash or ill conceived. The Orc weren't foolish... they would know it was a trick, and the idea that Olsten seemed not to consider this was a bit disheartening. More so when he remarked about she and Quynn desiring time alone. A frown crossed her lips at the words... was it jealousy behind them? That subtle twinge?


"I imagine the Orc would not be so easily fooled into thinking we would abandon our mission of peace to join them in taking Rosenfall down. No, I don't think that plan would work, at all. It would be death for certain, and would do little to save the vill--" Her words were truncated by the sound of the horn and glancing up, Raleia watched as the doors opened, admitting in a most terrible pair of Orc. Her frown deepening, she watched the two carefully. No... they weren't foolish, at all. And their presence was certainly poignant. Why they'd come, however, Raleia couldn't quite figure.


But once more, with adolescent flourish and a startling lack of contemplation, Olsten stepped forward and opening his mouth, took matters into his own less experienced hands. He was dear to her, but in the moment she had to wonder if Waethrin's frustrations with him weren't at least to some degree warranted. It would be a challenge, enough, negotiating. But what the Orc were asking was hardly ground breaking, and they couldn't afford to throw away the only opportunity they had to protect the home of the Sur. If the Orc wanted the answer to a question that, frankly, wasn't all that difficult to find out from others, there was no sense in keeping it from them. It wasn't necessary to guard what was essentially common knowledge.


Stepping forward, a hand gently on Olsten's shoulder, to still him, she shook her head, before turning to the Orc pair, "While my young friend is right, that this is between the Sur and the Orc, there is little need, now, nor call for secrecy. Haven has fallen, yes. Though not all of us with it. We are still more than capable of protecting these lands, and will do so until the last of our numbers diminishes. Bearing this in mind, let us begin negotiations. We will hear first from the Sur, as it is the sanctity of their land in question, and we are in their court... After we've heard their terms, you shall have your turn to speak. As is customary, we ask that both parties remove all weapons and lay them at your feet."

@Effervescent @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Red Thunder]

Waethrin


The Fields Outside


the Ruins of Edlenfeld
​

Shadow Magic. So much like that damned Arcane business. Waethrin hated dealing with either stuff: it twisted perception, altered to some small extent even realty. It was so ... unnatural. Even so, Arcane Mages, or Wardens in this case, were fighting for the right cause. And seeing a fellow Warden in such distress and need filled both the old man and the old Drake with rage.


Waethrin touched one of Ancalagon's scales in a long practiced prearranged manner, indicating the technique he wanted to perform. He then launched himself backward as the Drake dove toward the Shadow Mages, spinning to avoid their blasts. Higher up, Waehrin gave himself an extra lift with a quick blast of fire from his feet. His hands reached out toward the enemy below. This would take some precision; he did not want to risk the dragonless Warden below. The air was filled with a high pitched whining, and a concentrated flame of a brilliant white appeared on his palms, directed toward the Shadow Mages.


To his right, Rasrik was casting his Weirdness. Cinder had been lost in the chaos, but she was certainly around doing her own business as well. Ancalagon caught ahold of the sarcasm in his Warden's emotion and returned a feeling a feeling of patience. He old man grumbled, but he acquiesced, focusing on the job at hand.


As arranged, Anacalagon let free a torrent of flame into the air from his maw, effectively creating a screen to hide Waethrin behind him. A few Shadow casters cowered, seeking escape. The dragon immediately pulled up and out of Waethrin's way, the flash of dragonfire cleared, and the Inferno had a clear view of his targets. Jaw set grimly, he began sending down bolts of white hot fire, perhaps an inch in diameter. He took his time as he fell, knowing that each shot had to be carefully made to avoid hitting an ally.


@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Cinder and Voarex


Edlenfeld


Cinder wished she could say she'd been in worse situations, had worse odds. But this just about took the cake. As soon as they landed she was forced to throw up a shield around her and Voarex. It was a strain to keep it up given that Voa was no runt. Above her she could see the scene unfolding through the portal. It was too much to make sense of, as the shadow blasts impacting her wards beckoned for her attention. They needed to take to the sky once more, but they would first require an opening. The arcane dragon roared an agreement and positioned herself to face the largest concentration of caster surrounding them and used the momentum of her turn to swing her tail towards more of the offending casters around them. The scales around her neck came alive with blue energy and Cinder dropped the barrier in front of them in time for the beam of arcane energy to be released into the small crowd of five. Whatever defensive countermeasures the casters had, it would not hold up against the power that Voa wielded.


Her arcane breath lit up the area around them, and in the muck that permeated the air she could she more shadows moving about here and there. She grit her teeth, her suspicions were confirmed. They were surrounded. A particularly strong bolt of shadow energy broke through her right barrier and struck Voa in the side. Her beam was broken as she gave a rippling howl of pain. Cinder shifted her extended right hand and sent a blast of her own energy towards the offender. A small pang in her chest confirmed that she'd done lethal damage. But she couldn't revel in the death as another bolt passed inches from her face. Another blast, another sharp pang.


Cinder's eyes drifted off to where the dragonless warden was, still fighting against a number of casters. From above came balls of fire, striking down casters near the warden with surprising accuracy. In the air above, she could see the source was Weathrin without his dragon. That old fool. If he was going to the ground, so would she. "I'm going on foot! Watch yourself, cover my advance." Cinder called to her dragon as she dropped the rest of her wards and leapt to the ground. Voarex batted her wings and lifted up and into the air, reluctant, but trusting her rider.


There were three casters left near her, winded but willing to fight. She rolled to the side to avoid another volley of blasts and brought up another ward to block the shots. She was glad that the casters were so focused on her, they wouldn't be able to dodge the blast of arcane energy that rained down on them from Voarex above. She smirked and waved the dragon off, glad that she'd still be watching over. Cinder's ward blinked away as she conjured up a spear in one hand and a shortsword in the other. Her eyes were now set on the fight Waethrin was descending into and where the other warden was likely in desperate need of assistance. She started off at a bound and then a run, with any luck she'd get the element of surprise. And if Voa wasn't caught up with whatever lurked around them, she'd keep anything from blindsiding the warden.


@Effervescent @BookWyrm @Red Thunder

 

[Effervescent]

Edlenfeld

​

The element of surprise was no longer present as the Dragon Wardens’ presences were fully known. Wreathes of darkness wavered like voids around the cloaked silhouettes of the Shadow Casters. They channeled bolts and conjured spells directed towards their newfound foes, though Waethrin and Ancalagon seemed to be a bit of a challenging target. The Inferno dived towards the group on the ground that divided their attention between Waethrin and the dragonless Warden. She was angry, and at such close range she moved from spell casting to slashing with two daggers in hand.


The searing heat from Waethrin’s white hot fire burst through the chilled Winter air glistening skin with beads of sweat. Seeing the advancement from the air, the Warden on the ground had only a moment’s time to conjure a spell to hit along with Waethrin’s. While the wreathes of darkness soaked up most of the damage, their combined efforts burst through a pair’s defenses and knocked them to the ground in agony. She could not hit Waethrin’s other targets in time, and his fire soaked into the voids around the Shadow Casters causing only a mild singe.


The Arcane Dragon’s beam burst onto another set of Shadow Casters. Their dark wreathes mitigated a fair amount of the damage. Its force was still enough to knock them backwards and onto the grassy terrain. It was strange, however, that no matter the attacks Cinder threw at the Shadow Casters, and no matter the damage, they continued on as if nothing bad ever happened to them. Their hands waved through the air as they conjured spell after spell, a volley of dark bolts and conjured Shadow flying through the grey of the fog towards the Dragon Wardens.


Now that Cinder charged on foot, Shadow Casters and Shades began to circle and surround their more easy prey. And in the distance a bestial howl called. Their situation was getting worse by the second, and it was only a matter of time before they would be completely overwhelmed.


@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

Usolath

​

The two orcs stared at the Dragon Wardens with stern, fixed gazes. They listened to Olsten, the male’s nostrils flaring at his words in annoyance. Their society was still a great unknown to any within the allied kingdoms. This was the first time in over a century the Sur encountered the orc. Even in the past they did not fully know of their culture and operations, but even now it was clear they did not entirely regard the young Dragon Warden’s words. The woman orc exchanged glances with her counterpart and spoke to him in their native language. He retorted, his dreaded head nodding towards Olsten in the process. She shook her head no, and they looked back to the group as Raleia stepped in.


Despite the strange calm from the orcs that stood before them, the Sur were on edge. Hands gripped the hilts of their swords under their cloaks, their eyes fixed on their massive frames for any signs of trouble. At one point Prince Asal had to nonchalantly urge one of his injured scouts to refrain from advancement. It was merely a quiet gesture, his hand moving out to the side, palm downward to signal the elf to know his place. Thannel remained by the prince and Nrem as he watched the conversation unfold. Raleia caught the interest of the orcs more readily as their inquiry was appeased, but they did not seem happy about the answer.


The woman once again commented to the other orc in their own language, and they nodded in some agreement as they set down their weapons. Prince Asal couldn't contain his surprise, his wide eyes moving to fall on the Dragon Wardens in disbelief. How could this be so easy? The compliance from the two orcs was not enough for the surrounding Sur to lay down their guard. Prince Asal gave the order to set down their weapons as he placed his own set of daggers to the side. Reluctance in his people followed suit as they paced their weapons on the ground before them.


“You are damaging sacred land,” the prince began. “All I ask is that you reroute your advance and leave my people and these forests alone. If you do not, we will be forced to engage in combat to protect the Woodlands.”


“These weren't always elf lands,” the male orc responded with a scoff. “What you ask is for us to delay justice. We made a deal with the Thall bitch. We gave her our siege weapons so that she could kill off the Shadow Magi. In return she was to give us grain. We received nothing but word of the bitch using our weapons instead to dismantle the peacekeepers. My people suffer a famine, elf. We will march to Rosenfall on schedule.”


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz @JDParadox