Fantasy The Dragon Wardens: Exodus

[BookWyrm]

Rasrik and Valos.

​

As the Shades and Shadow Casters closed in upon Cinder Rasrik reigned Valos into a dive, coming up from behind and driving hard as Valos poured a stream of Arcane energy upon them. Valos passed, choking off the attack to avoid striking Cinder, and flitted just a moment before landing near Voa, yet Rasrik wasn't on the Black One's back. Right as they had passed over Ras had slid from his saddle to roll across the ground and close in behind the Shadow Casters. If magic wasn't going to stop them then good old fashioned sword play would have to do.


The first met his end as he turned, catching Rasrik's blade along his midsection as Ras pulled it across with ease. A step to the side and the sword was brought down across the falling man's spine, vanquishing him before he even hit the ground. Ras took just a moment to get his battlefield awareness about him; there were four more Casters in front of him, the Shades being closer to Cinder, who was at the least fifty paces away. Four Casters, I've got this. As Ras pushed forward he reached out, clawing at the Casters until he felt his hooks sink into their presence.


His step quickened, driving him towards the Casters as he split, sending dopplegangers out at each one. The trickery seemed to work, the Casters taken off guard as they tried to dodge or block the incoming attacks, allowing Ras to close in and pummel the first with his sword's spiked pommel, the crunch sounding dull and hollow as the body fell aside. Ras could feel the slight relief as one less mind was unclouded, returning some of his strength now that he only had to focus on clouding three minds instead of four. This looks hopeless. But, I've seen hopeless before.

 

[Red Thunder]

Waethrin


The Ruins of Edlenfeld



​

One. The old man had killed one. And that only with the help of the strange Warden. His position above the battlefield gave him a reasonably clear view of what was happening, and it was not encouraging. They needed to flee, as much as he loathed to do so; they could not hold a resistance much longer, even fighting martially as Rasrik and his Dragon did now, for martial might would do nothing to the incoming Shades. Nor much against whatever hell-beasts now advanced upon them through the night. Their howls gave even the calloused warrior hesitation.


An answer of sorts came to him. It was not what he'd have preferred, but it was the thing to do to save their lives. Ancalagon swooped back near him, as was customary. They'd attack and reassess, attack and reassess. It allowed them to adapt and kept them unpredictable. As the Drake met his eye, Waethrin gave a hand signal: the Coward's Answer. It was their last resort, and it had only been employed once before in their lives. But it appeared at least that this was the only reasonable answer.


From his already outstretched hand a sphere of carefully controlled fire the width of his hand appeared. It gave off little heat, but it was brighter than staring directly into the heart of the sun itself. He glanced down. Good; Ancalagon was already on his way down to pick up the new Warden.


"Eyes!" he bellowed, hoping his allies would understand. Winding his arm back, Waethrin hurled the fireball toward the center of the Shadow Mages. As it fell it pulsed, increasing in tempo as it neared the ground. He prayed to whatever gods were listening that this might work. It would be delicate: his allies would need to close their eyes to prevent sun-blindness, the new Warden would need to not resist Anacalagon's extraction, and the Shadow Mages would need to be caught off guard and blinded themselves. Or at the least, cause their wards to turn opaque in order to black out the light. If this worked perfectly, they would escape in one piece together. If not...


@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

 

[Elle Joyner]

For what it was worth, getting the Orc's cooperation with a measure of forbearance was encouraging, to say the least. She'd half expected a fight to break and none of them were in much condition for that - but the weapons were laid down without a hitch and the room breathed what seemed to be a collective sigh of relief, possibly most felt in Raleia. She'd never been much for confrontation - strange, considering her cast in life, but where she had most excelled had been in negotiations. It was a gift, Valnir had told her often, her ability to maintain a level head in most situations... Little good it had done for Haven.


Gripping her necklace, she turned to the Orcs and shook her head, her expression even, but firm, "The history of these lands are not up for debate, nor are they remotely relevant to current matters at hand. Rosefall suffered greatly under the attack waged by the other Wardens, during our rescue. Nothing they can so quickly recover from. It will take months for them to repair the damages, and that's not considering what they've lost in men and in ammunitions. A few days delay will bear you no difficulties, and you'll have earned the trust of the Sur, something to be deeply respected, whatever you may think."


Turning to the Sur prince, Raleia bowed her head, "And in light of their agreement to bypass your lands, perhaps an arrangement can be made for livestock and a bounty of grain to be sent in advance to to their home. Enough at least, to survive the cold.”


To the orc, again, she nodded, “Whatever you find in the storehouses of Rosenfall is yours to take as well, as was owed to you by your deal with Queen Malan. Justice will be served for all lives lost to the heinous actions of that woman. I ask only that your decision is made swiftly as possible. The Shadow is ever growing, and it would be within your best interests to see your people are well fed, and soon.”

@Effervescent @Macaberz @JDParadox

 

[Macaberz]

Olsten

​

Olsten flinched at the featherlight touch upon his shoulder. He glanced up at Raleia, but wasted no words to try and decipher her intent. It was quite clear she wanted him to simmer down and he obeyed, relishing in the lingering touch for as long as it lasted. He took note of the Orc nodding its beastly head at him, but didn’t move or frown, or speak.


Raleia stood and raised her sweet voice. She spoke as elegantly as she moved, with bewitching charm. It proved to be enough. Olsten shared the elven Prince’s surprise. It could be a great achievement by Raleia, and though he didn’t doubt her skill as a diplomat, he wondered why the Orc obliged so easily. All he knew about them was that the Orc were great, lumbering war machines. To part from their weapons, he thought, would be like parting from a limb. He was glad he wasn’t asked to lay down Scratch/ He only possessed the blade for the duration of their travels, but had grown very fond of it. The grip and balance were just perfect for his nimble fingers.


The Prince spoke with calm and reason. The Orc less so. Yet it appeared both parties were right. The Sur had a right to defend their homeland, and the Orcs marched out of necessity. Both had none but Thallas to blame for their troubles. And so had he. He would not forget the time spent in that dark pit soon. Nor would he forgive or forget the jeering crowd who’d wanted his head on a spike. Duty commanded him to remain calm and to err on the side of mercy. But the great beast within uncoiled as he listened to the Orc and the plight of his kin. All of this was the fault of Queen Malan. She had brought down Haven. She had broken her promise to the Orcs. She and she alone was responsible for letting the shadow threat rot and fester. The sooner her rule was ended, the better.


And though he worried for the old, the frail, and the young trapped within Rosenfall’s walls, he didn’t protest as Raleia proposed to let the Orc plunder the city. The people of Thall had set themselves on a warpath against Orcs and Dragon Wardens alike, and they deserved all that was coming for them.


Unable to contain himself any longer, Olsten rose again. This time however, he didn’t adress the room but turned to Raleia instead and put his mouth close to her ear. “Can’t we join them? For revenge?” he whispered. “Can’t we all join together and bring her to justice?” Surely Raleia hated the Thall Queen as much as he did. After all, he’d noticed how often Raleia reached for her necklace. He’d seen how she would twist and turn it whenever she had to think and think hard. He knew her weak spot all too well.


“For Valnir.”


@Effervescent @JDParadox @Elle Joyner

Orignal art by

Naznamy. Edited by me.
​

 

[Effervescent]

Edlenfeld

​

Physical attacks were more effective than magic against the Shadow Casters, but unless it was a fatal blow they still pressed on. It was as if they could not register the damage to their bodies, or perhaps they could not feel the pain of steel piercing through their flesh so deeply. They would draw their own swords, casting as the blades clashed with Rasrik. Surrounded by so many of them, they were all doomed a fate worse than death if they could not find a way out of the horde.


Rasrik’s focus left him vulnerable, and the casters advancing upon his back seized the opportunity. A Shade latched onto his body, its tenticle-like arm reaching into his body ethereally to wrack his very being in pain meant to paralyze the Dragon Warden. It would be something even Valos could feel through their bond as it was not a physical affliction. It would give the Shadow Casters time to channel fear into his mind.


The Dragonless Warden bull rushed the duo as soon as she broke free of her own obstacles. It helped Rasrik had placed his illusions on a few of the casters that had been focused on her. Luckily, they were otherwise occupied with what they thought was the other Arcane Caster, and so she charged forward and knocked the two Shadow Casters to the ground, punching one with her fists to knock him out cold.


“We have to get out of here!” she called to the others while kicking the other Shadow Caster back to the muddied earth. She turned to address Waethrin, but he was gone. His voice called out a warning as he swooped down on Ancalagon. Everyone turned to view the Fire Caster as a ball of light began to grow, their eyes widening before they moved to shield them from the intensity that blasted upon them.


It was inevitable that a ball of light as bright as the unfiltered sun would give off so much heat. Those closest to the light were burned, albeit still alive. Due to Waethrin’s call, however, most where not taken off guard, only deterred from their actions as they took precautions against the blaring light. The Warden was scooped up by Ancalagon without resistance, her eyes shut tight as she felt the heat prickle her eyelids and skin in a sweltering wave. It was enough of a distraction to begin the trek to safety, and the light was enough to dissipate the surrounding Shade.


@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

Usolath

​

The prince stared at Raleia incredulously as she proposed he give up a portion of their food to the orcs as a peace offering. It was clear by his expression he felt it unreasonable and unfair. But he was not the only Sur present that felt this way, for nearly everyone gathered and listening frowned and murmured to each other about the ridiculousness of handing over their own reserves. Asal held out a hand to silence the quiet retorts, and Nrem leaned over to whisper into the Prince’s ear. Thannel moved over to the Dragon Warden to make a suggestion, but halted as he leaned towards her.


As the two orcs discussed the proposition in their native tongue, Olsten rose to speak to Raleia in a private whisper. The Vuaturi caught bits and pieces as the words slipped from the boy’s mouth softly. It felt wrong to eavesdrop, but the boy spoke of revenge, and it unsettled the elf considerably. This was not a simple suggestion nor was it something so easily considered. When he mentioned Valnir, however, he felt compelled to cut in.


“Revenge is not the best route here,” he whispered to the two Dragon Warden. “Especially in Valnir’s name. He was not a man who would uphold such an endeavor. Think about who we are dealing with. The orcs care about their people, but what will plague them when they rid of the Thall? Revenge will not stop the Shadow onslaught. There is a bigger picture here.”


“Dragon Wardens,” Prince Asal finally said. “The Sur cannot afford to give up our food stocks for the Winter. Folhath is under constant siege from the Shadow threat that disrupts our inner trade considerably. By giving the orcs what food we have in the Northern Woodlands, we may save the forest but at great cost to our lives. They may hunt what they can, but their numbers will greatly affect the ecosystem and possibly throw our future food and trade sources into extinction.”


“Thallas is ripe with a bounty,” the male orc said. “We will only destroy a path to their plains and pillage for our people in their lands. Grant us passage and we will spare this dwelling.”


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz

 

[Elle Joyner]

Whether or not the negotiations were going well, Raleia couldn't tell. No one had killed anyone yet, and that seemed largely a sign of success, but there was still too much of a chance something, anything could go wrong and with everyone on edge all it took was a spark to ignite a fire.


Unfortunately, she hardly anticipated that spark might come from Olsten, nor that the fire might be her own. The expressions on the faces of the Sur were plain and clear - they weren't looking to hand over their bounty, and probably for good reason, albeit undoubtedly slightly prejudiced. Between themselves, the two parties conversed in private and as they did the outsider rose to approach her, but before he could, she felt Olsten lean in, his voice dropping to a whisper. It was a series of words that send ice down her spine, and at the same time she could feel the heat coloring her cheeks - a sense of frustration... no... anger, boiling in her core.


How many times did she need to tell him? How many times did she need to repeat herself before it became clear that revenge wasn't the way, that it was only going to make matters worse...


“For Valnir.”


The words rang like an explosion in her mind and spinning round, eyes narrowed, Raleia opened her mouth to speak. What might have come was cut across by the hushed but stern whisper of the stranger beside her, and for a moment surprised swallowed the anger as she whipped her head towards the elf, a brow curved upwards. Valnir had traveled far and wide, and he'd met all manner of men, but this one, Thannel, Olsten had called him? He spoke as if he knew Val on a personal level... as if he were a friend.


Shaking her head, she turned, mind whirling, as the Prince began to speak and facing him, her frown deepened at his words. There was nothing left to barter with, nothing else the Orcs needed... Yet their reply wasn't what she'd expected either. It was hardly the compromise they might've hoped for, had Asal been willing to part with some grain, but it was better than an all out rampage. And had she been in a better, calmer state of mind, perhaps she could have endeavored for more, but as it was she could see patience all around wearing thin, her own notwithstanding. Taking a breath, she nodded, slowly, "...I'd say this is the best compromise we'll come to... Make your passage, but you'll cause as little damage as possible on the Sur's land. What you do to Rosenfall... that's on their heads. Excuse me."


Turning around, she eyed Olsten and shaking her head, lowered her voice. Her tone was ice, but in her eyes there was a trace of barely restrained tears, "...Don't you ever presume to dishonor Valnir's name again... Not ever. He would be ashamed to hear you speak of vengeance as if it's a worthy goal. He died fighting for the belief that we are here to be make a better world. Don't you dare take that from him..." Straightening, jaw clenched, she made her way for the door, slipping out without another word.

@Effervescent @Macaberz

 

[Red Thunder]

Waethrin


The Ruins of Edlenfeld



​

It was time to leave; long past. Wind still rushing by his head, Waethrin glanced about. There, swooping back up from vulnerability, Ancalagon was carrying the dragonless Warden in his claws. The old man grunted in satisfaction. His ploy had worked, mostly. Their enemies had at the least turned away from the brightness that blasted across the landscape, and that gave them their moment. The bit of burn his allies might have received was worth the chance to flee the rout. Spreading his limbs to slow his fall, he tilted himself so as to intercept his Drake's flight path. Sure enough, the beast swung by, and the old man fell onto the saddle expertly.


He looked down, peering around the faint straining of his companion's wings. She was a pretty thing, this new Warden. Too pretty to have found herself in such a predicament alone. But then, appearances were not the best of indicators. He himself might easily be thought of as incapable. Indeed, he had already been by more than one of his 'allies'. So he'd at least not make a snap impression of this new one. Waethrin raised his voice to call down to her, trying to be heard over the chaos and Anacalgon's beating wings.


"Woman!" He reached down a hand toward her as the Drake did his best to hoist the female toward his rider. "Can you climb up?!"


There was a jolt, and Waethrin cursed. The Shadow Mages were recovering from the flare attack, and Ancalagon had narrowly avoided a blast of Shadow Magic. Hopefully the Warden's allies were similarly recovered and making plans of retreat themselves.


@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

​

​

This was becoming tiring.


Fighting, hurting, running. It all kept on falling downwards. People kept on dying, one after another. They were never going to stop being hunted. Bit by bit, Feria lost any hope that they would ever be free of hiding. And even if they ever achieved peace, too many would already be gone.


On top of it all, she was becoming weaker, and both Feria and Ifer knew it. She was softening and it was costing her. She was caring and it was causing her to lose. This wasn't working, but what was? The ghost of her left arm was prominent - sometimes she could swear she felt the fingers grasping, but when she looked there was nothing but a stump. A reminder that when she cared, she got hurt.


"You're flying too slow," She hissed at Ifer, who gave a snarl in response. He was gliding casually across the skies as if they had time to stop for tea in the clouds. "I'm not going to fall off." He didn't trust her anymore. Not to fight for herself, nor to take care of herself. That was his job now, at least in the dragon's eyes, because he wasn't going to let his warden get hurt anymore.


Ifer did not pick up the pace.


"You need to go faster!" She snapped, anger seeping into her voice before giving a small cough. Her throat still ached if she spoke too harshly since the taint. Only now did Ifer begin to fly any faster.


While her arm had healed considerably, Feria wasn't in shape to fight. That was why when the Shadow had attacked during their negotiations with the orc, she had been sent away immediately to warn them of the surprise attack. Feria was nothing but a burden now, and thinking of that lead her to wonder about Liola. She hoped the dragon was alright. Truly, she hoped everyone was alright. Leaving the battle in such a way made her feel cowardly, and she hated the fact that she could only wonder of their fates.


Snow fell heavily, blankets of white covering the land. Her element gave her comfort as she and Ifer made the trek to Usolath. Feria urged Ifer towards the ground when she spotted the orange glow of the Everfire. They had finally reached their destination, and to the pair's surprise, the first thing they saw was a fellow Dragon Warden slip out of the building in front of the clearing.


The moment Feria slid off of Ifer's back, he curled his tail around her and formed a barrier between his warden and the stranger. His stance was low, ready to pounce, growling under his breath. "Ifer!" Feria exclaimed, voice raspy yet sharp. He gave a short bark, one that told her he trusted no one anymore, not even if they shared the trait of red hair. Not after it became clear to them that so many of their kind were turning to Shadow.


"Ifer," Feria said, quieter this time, gaze travelling from the warden to the ice dragon, and then putting her her on his back. She could not quite introduce herself yet with Ifer so riled up. She looked him straight in the eyes and pleaded with him to calm, and eventually, he let out a snort and left his defensive stance.
​

I N F O

LOCATION


Usolath


WITH

@Elle Joyner (@Effervescent @Macaberz)

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Cinder and Voarex


Edlenfeld


Cinder quickly found herself surrounded in her attempt to link up with the other warden. Unfortunately Voa was too distracted with other casters to come to her rescue. Just as they were about to be in range of her arcane attacks, another beam of magical energy streamed down and around her enemies. It was enough to dissuade them from advancing, which allowed her time to combine her arcane weapons into a ward once more to block incoming attacks. She drew her blade and lunged for the first caster that had fallen to Valos' attack. Her blade sank into flesh but did not stay long, being drawn out to slash across the chest of another caster charging her. Her attacker stumbled past her and fell to the ground, writhing in agony. That left shades infront of her and four, she turned to look at the casters behind her and found multiple Rasrik's engaging three hooded figures in combat. Okay make that three behind me.


Before she could turn back to face the shades, she heard Weathrin's voice call out above the clamor of battle. It was a warning more than anything and was followed by a bright light that would have been blinding if she wasn't paying attention. The flash lasted for a moment, but it was enough to dispel the shade infront of her and disorient what casters remained between her and Rasrik(s). For once the old man could do something useful. "Voarex!" She called, turning to sprint towards Ras. She dropped her ward and barreled, sword first, into the back of a recovering caster and drove her blade straight through his heart. Moments later a rush of air and a shudder of the earth announced the arrival of Voarex as she landed beside the warden, crushing the two remaining casters beneath her legs. Cinder yanked her sword from out of the dead caster and quickly mounted Voarex.


She'd expected that Valos would be right behind Voa and so the pair beat off from the ground and returned to the air once more. Cinder scanned the sky for Ancalagon and once she found him sent Voarex off after them. It seemed that the distraction was just enough to get them back into the air, as balls of shadow magic came streaming past them. The presence of the darkness was once more gaining strength and soon her senses were once more useless. The thought that still plagued her mind was that they had not encountered the entity which had claimed the man from earlier in the town. Whatever it was, still lurked beyond where they could see, and she wasn't sure that they'd all survive an attack from it.

 

[Toogee]

<p>


<strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Aurea and Plainswalker</span></strong> <strong>Woodlands of Valnahar- morning</strong> Within the forests of Valnahar, bright beams of sunlight pierced through the canopy to start another day. The light revealed a treehouse that wrapped around the thick trunk of a massive tree. The wood pieces that made up the home were not uniform like those of human homes. They were scrap pieces surrendered by the forest, mostly from dead trees or abandoned homes. It wasn’t fancy, but it did its job of keeping the rain and cold out. That was good enough for the Sur resident that called it home. Alfwin woke up, his grey hair sticking up in all directions. He had no intention of going anywhere, so he didn’t bother with it. As he dressed in his green vest, white long-sleeved shirt, and brown linen pants, he looked upon the worldly possessions he had gathered during his previous life as a trader. He had seen much of the world and had grown weary of it in his old age. Having retired, he wanted nothing more than to get away from the world and its troubles. That all changed about two months ago, when a girl and her dragon showed up on his doorstep. Aurea was one of the wardens that were being hunted. That alone was more trouble than he would have liked. Combined with the massive earth dragon that could devour all his crops, Alfwin should have turned them away. Yet, he let her use his spare room. Aurea had promised to work on his crops, so it wasn’t like she was a total leech. In addition, Alfwin somewhat missed the company. His wife had passed away years ago, leaving the Sur to manage by himself. Having someone else around would at least fill in the dead space. Most importantly, Aurea was just a child to his eyes. He couldn’t comprehend how any nation would want to harm her. He couldn’t just turn her away. His wife <em>certainly</em> wouldn’t let him. As Alfwin walked out the door, the first thing that greeted him was the giant face of Plainswalker. The dragon had to be on his hind legs to look upon the treehouse (it was built two-stories above ground). Alfwin still remembered the first time PW did this. It nearly gave him a heart attack! He was initially wary of keeping the dragon so close to his home, though that was before PW crushed a rabid wolf looking to make a meal out of the elf. The morning greetings eventually grew on Alfwin. The dragon greeted him with a mewl, a sound that seemed to come from a reptilian cat. “He’s asking how you slept!” Alfwin looked down to see Aurea already busy in the field. It was a bit unusual; Alfwin usually woke up before her. He nodded in response before facing the dragon. “Much better now that you wait until <em>after</em> I wake up to ask,” Alfwin replied with a grin as he made his way down a staircase that spiraled around the tree trunk. He watched as PW crouched back down on all fours, mimicking the songbirds above. As Alfwin made it down, his hand caressed a tombstone, that of his wife. He continued along a dirt path, looking upon the grown plants. Even in the dead of winter, Aurea was able to coax the crops into providing food, mainly potatoes, carrots, and yams. They would be fine this winter. Aurea was busy looking over the plants, seeing how they were progressing. She wore a long-sleeved blue dress, one borrowed from Alfwin’s late wife. The earth mage occasionally caressed her hand across the stem of one of the plants, causing it to extend upward. She had to be careful not to apply her magic too much; she didn’t want to shock the plant. Plainswalker watched her from the edge of the field. It had been three months since Haven fell. Aurea hadn’t woken up screaming in quite some time. She was getting better. Yet today, there was a lingering sadness; he could sense it. The half-elf was doing her best to hide it behind a smile as Alfwin approached her. “Mr. Alfwin, you’ll be happy to know that we can harvest in the next couple of days.” “Well, that’s good news,” Alfwin said, a worried look on his face. “You were up awfully early today.” “I just wanted to get a head start, that’s all.” The look Alfwin’s face was expecting an “and”, especially after looking at the equally worried look on PW. She was only here for a couple months, yet the elf could read her like a book. Aurea turned to PW with squinty eyes. “You didn’t say anything, did you?” “WRAAAWREEE?” The squawks from Plainswalker feigned innocence as he walked off to survey the landscape. There was a particularly interesting tree at that moment. Alfwin invited Aurea back to the stairs, where they sat down. There was no point in hiding it any longer, so the young warden spoke. “It’s just…winter break would have started today,” Aurea sighed. “There would usually be a good layer of snow. Kids would be having snowball fights. The boys would be stupid and try to surf the snow with shields. All of haven would get together for a grand feast. Well, we have them in other seasons too. We like our grand feasts.” Alfwin smiled with Aurea as she reminisced about happier times. He put a hand on her shoulder in support, taking a more serious tone. “The pain will never really go away,” he took a brief look at his wife’s tombstone, “but hold fast to the happy moments. There seems to be far more of those in your life than the bad. They’ll get you through the worst of it.” “Thank you.” Aurea felt Alfwin was owed more thanks than she could possibly ever give. Yet it was enough for him. “Now, how about I fix some breakfast?” Alfwin said as he made his way back to the house. “I’ll meet you up there,” Aurea replied. She went to the edge of the crop field, where Plainswalker was scratching his neck against the bark of a large tree. The warden hugged her dragon by the leg as she looked up to his face. “Do you remember when me and the other kids would decorate you with baubles and trinkets? We should do that again sometime.” Her request was met by a gentle mewl. “Shut up, you liked it! Now go forage. You need to eat too.” Plainswalker looked upon her, unsure if he should leave her. “Go! I’ll be fine,” Aurea let go and pat him on the leg to encourage him forward. “I want to hear all about the new smells you find when you get back.” Plainswalker nodded as he made his way into the forest, whistling in glee as he got another opportunity to explore. Aurea stayed long enough to watch him disappear in the thick brush.


</p>

 

[Effervescent]

Edlenfeld

​

The dragonless Warden carefully climbed onto Ancalagon’s back to settle behind Waethrin in the saddle. It was precarious riding on another dragon, and it felt almost unnatural. She couldn't feel what this dragon felt or know in which direction they would turn next. Her arms grasped his torso to aid in keeping her from falling. She could feel the armor beneath his cloak. This was a man built for battle, but how did he find such protection?


“Thank you!” she called back to him through the wind. Escaping from the chaos in any manner was welcomed, and she could tell from the use of his magic he was not a Shadow Warden. Glancing behind her, Cinder and Voarex flew into view not far behind. They would find safety, and soon.


It took flying into the Woodlands of Valnahar to finally rid themselves of the dense fog created by the Shadow Casters. None seemed to have pursued them, at least not visibly. There was no snow, and the chill was not as frigid and biting where they were. When they finally landed in a clearing, the Warden quickly dismounted from Ancalagon’s back.


“These are the Woodlands,” she observed. Her fingers brushed up against the bark of a tree, her eyes shutting as she fought back the sting of tears. It felt like she had been torn in two now that she was separated from her dragon. “How?” she muttered lowly, and then turned to look towards Waethrin and Cinder.


“I was just at the border between the Woodlands of Valnahar and the Orcish lands,” she continued. “What… What was that we just escaped from? It was madness!”


@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm @Toogee

Usolath

​

She left the negotiations without resolution. Both orcs and the Sur watched the Dragon Warden excuse herself in silence. Thannel looked to the prince and then to Olsten without really knowing how to proceed. Prince Asal turned to look at the boy in both disappointment and in confusion. He was the only remaining Dragon Warden to continue negotiations, and he wasn't satisfied in the slightest. The woman Orc shifter in her seat to recline against the back, her powerful arms revealing themselves as she crossed them over her chest.


It was clear to Thannel that due to Olsten’s comment on revenge for Valnir struck a chord with Raleia, but he was only privvy to such knowledge by happenstance. The Vuaturi could excuse Olsten’s words for he wasn't directly affected and understood he was still a maturing young man for a human. Never the less, feelings were hurt, and they needed Raleia to help carry out the negotiations to a close. Olsten could do it, even without a repertoire of past diplomacy experience, but it looked as though Prince Asal did not wish to place his faith in him. Thannel placed a hand on Olsten’s shoulder.


“Try your best to find the best middle ground,” he said in a low tone before looking to the prince. He bowed his head respectfully. “If you will excuse me, I will see to bringing Raleia back.”


All Prince Asal gave to acknowledge his request was a curt nod, and the Vuaturi quickly made his way for the door to head out into the cold. The wind had died down since he came to Usolath. The barren trees displayed the glowing homes wrapped around their trunks. Snow blanketed the scene with only the disruption of footprints to note the traffic on the ground floor. Raleia was easy to spot and hadn't traveled far.


“Raleia, was it?” Thannel asked as he approached her side. “You are still needed-“


Before he could complete his words, a striking looking spiked dragon fell to the snowy ground, and from its back a familiar face. He recognized the two immediately, and took a step towards them with a smile of relief. It had been some time since they were separated, but he was there when she had lost her arm. It was good to see her back to her feisty ways. Ifer still did not look so inviting.


“Feria, Ifer,” he said to the two. “What news from the group? I had planned to return, but I ran into a Sur scouting group and we were ambushed. Were you able to negotiate with the orcs?”


Meanwhile, within the Great Hall presided the tense negotiations. The woman Orc rose from her seat and spoke something in their native tongue. The man followed suit, responding in kind before looking to Prince Asal. "If the Dragon Warden deems it, then we are done here," he said.


"We do not have the means to feed your people without starving our own," the prince responded tersely. "Folhath is under attack by the Shadow. What every village holds is what they have until that threat is resolved. We cannot even allow you to hunt in the woodlands as it will thin the wildlife considerably."


"Well, then," the Orc said as he pursed his lips. "This was a large waste of our time. We will carry on. Do not get in our way or we will kill you."


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz @CloudyBlueDay @Nivi

 

[Macaberz]

Raleia took it the wrong way. Of course she did. He watched her storm out like he had done himself a short while ago. But he made no move to chase after her. Only his eyes moved, narrowing in a calculative gaze as he listened to what Thannel had to say. If indeed he was stirred at all, he managed to hide it well. Tense negotiations between two peoples on the verge of war was possibly the most inopportune moment to break down.


He gave Thannel a small nod as the elf set out to bring Raleia back to the table. The weight of the Vautari's hand was immediately replaced by the crushing burden of responsibility bestowed upon him.


And then he saw it, and he cursed himself for not having realized it before. Thannel had been right. There was a bigger picture! It was no wonder that Raleia's suggestion had fallen on deaf ears. Like him, like everyone remaining in the hall, she had not noticed what united the Sur and the Orc. But he could see it clear as day now. There was still hope, still a chance left to avoid an imminent war


With no immediate support left and the talks on the verge of collapse, Olsten resorted to instict, that treachorous gut feeling. Before the Orcs could turn to make their way out, Olsten leapt forward and blocked their path.


"The Dragon Warden does not deem it done," he said coldly. Without meaning to, a brief blaze erupted in his right hand, reminding all present that whatever he lacked in years or experience, he could more than make up for with his magic.


Crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze flicked to Prince Asal before returning to the Orc pair. "War will cost both your people dearly. More so than either side can afford. The only force that will gain from your squabbling is the Shadow." He paused for a moment, hoping dearly that both sides still posessed the calm to see reason.


"Don't you see? Don't you see that you have a common enemy here? The Shadow is what's driving you," he jutted his chin at the Orc, "from your homes." His eyes settled on Prince Asal. "It's also what's threatening your borders and preventing you from granting the Orcs any supplies."


@Effervescent @Elle Joyner


@CloudyBlueDay

 

[Elle Joyner]

There was a fissure in her soul that Raleia wasn't sure would ever heal. A part of her that had died the day Haven fell, the day that Valnir was taken from her. And there was piece of her that wanted that vengeance, desperately. A part of that would have turned the queen and her entire city to ash. But Haven had been attacked in what was intended to be retribution for Edlenfeld... It had been an act of revenge that had torn from her her life, her home, her husband to be. She could take her own revenge, certainly... But then what? It was a circle that would come back to her in the end, and no one would have closure. Not ever.


She didn't expect Olsten to understand this... and she knew in her heart that he meant well, but it hurt to hear those words and to know that despite how Valnir might have felt, she'd actually considered it at all. That she had entertained the idea at all... and betrayed Valnir's memory that way. It broke her heart, and shattered her confidence in a way she wasn't accustomed to, and standing there, trying to negotiate peace between people who hated each other... trying to negotiate peace when all anyone seemed to want was death? It seemed impossible.


Thannel's voice rose from behind her and Raleia reached up to brush the tears from her cheeks, "I'm sorry..." She murmured quietly, "I just... I just needed a moment. I'll be right--" But before she could finish, there was a familiar swooping sound over head and Raleia glanced up to see the figure descending. Stepping back, she stared, wide-eyed at the sight of the unfamiliar rider and the dragon beneath her. Surely others existed - more than just those few of them in the cave had survived - but it was a solemn state of things that seeing another Warden was a surprise, anymore.


Looking back to Thannel, a brow quirked as he moved forward, greeting the pair. Was there no one the man didn't know? Her plight forgotten for a moment, she looked between the Vuaturi, to the Warden and dragon. Haven had fallen, and still, so many of them were trying to do good... trying to do their jobs. The Shadow was ever increasing and with this war between the lands, there would never be victory against the greater threat.


Straightening, Raleia's expression shifted and her eyes flickered over to the elf, "...My God. I've been so blind. All of us have. The answer... it's so simple..." A small smile, weary, but bright twitched at the corner of her mouth and she nodded, "I think I know what to do. Excuse me." Nodding to the Warden, she turned and made for the hall again, pushing the doors opened as she stepped inside. She could hear Olsten's words, echoing through a tense silence and the smile didn't fade, but widened.


Clever boy.


"Olsten is right..." She chimed in, "You're fighting each other... we all are, and we're missing what's important. The Shadow won't stop... it will never stop, unless we find a way to fight against it, together." Looking to Prince Asal, she bowed her head, "All due respect, Your Majesty, I understand your plight, but it won't matter how much food you preserve if your land and your people don't survive this war. And the same goes to you.." Turning to the orcs, she shrugged, "No amount of vengeance on Queen Malan will matter if the Shadow continues to spread and wipes all of us out. We're all fighting losing battles, when if we worked together, we could find a way to see real resolution."


Closing her eyes for a moment, she considered her words, carefully, "Here is my proposal. I feel no need to paint the words any way but plainly. Your roles until now have been in contention of one another, when in reality you fail to realize the mutual benefit in aiding each other. Prince Asal... your people are more than capable of leading the Orc safely through these lands. In guiding them, you can hunt... preserving what you'll need while ensuring their men don't starve. You've mentioned the lingering threat in Folhath... The Orc possess weaponry that can neutralize that threat, weaponry that, if I understand correctly, took down Haven, itself. Rosenfall would fall to any man now, but an army of both Orc and Sur, working together? They'll offer little resistance. They won't stand a chance. From there, Folhath is but a few days. We've been trying to provide a solution to preserve as many lives and as much land as possible... this is the only solution that exists. Work together, join forces - take down Queen Malan, who has allied herself against all our kind - then take down the Shadow in Folhath... What do you say, then?"

@Effervescent @Macaberz, @CloudyBlueDay

 

[Red Thunder]

Waethrin


The Woodlands of Valnahar
​

The old man stayed perched upon the old drake's shoulders as his rescuee dropped to the ground. The seemed... well, sad certainly. But less so than he'd have imagined. Best he could figure, the woman had just been separated from her dragon, and Waethrin didn't even like considering what he'd do in her position. Perhaps what she did now: carry on.


"Hell if I know," the old man grunted, shrugging. "You're in more of a position to tell us; you went through that thing."


He glanced back the way they'd come, his baleful eye staring angrily. There was unfinished business in that ghost town, things that needed finding out. And killing. The Shadow Mages certainly, but there was something else, too. Seemingly it was the events that occurred there that drive Malan to act against the Dragon Wardens, though what exactly caused such death was as yet unclear to him.


Unsatisfied but unwilling to return at the moment, Waethrin turned back to the newcomer. Yes, she was certainly a warrior: his initial assessment was spot on. Perhaps that accounted for her composure.


"We found you in Edlenfeld, lass, beset by Shadow Mages with what looked to be your dragon on the far side of some arcane gate of some kind." He leaned forward in the saddle, shifting his weight onto the saddle horn. "Where is it you were last?"


@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Cinder and Voarex


Valnahar Woodlans


Cinder was uneasy as she landed beside Weathrin and Ancalagon. Rasrik never followed behind, but she was sure that Valos had picked him up. And yet, they didn't follow. She refused to believe that he had been captured, or worse... She would choose not to dwell on it for the time being. Rasrik woudn't have let her to anyways. What mattered was figuring out what the hell was going on back at Edlenfeld. And for the moment, that would be the subject of their conversation with the new dragon warden in their group. It seemed that she was separated from her dragon on the other side of, whatever the portal was.


"It would be a stretch to assume. They may have been observing at the least, or influencing the conflict on the other side. Where you were." She spoke as she dismounted from a concerned Voa. She kept her head perked high for any sign of the missing dragon and warden. "That, or they were preparing to interfere themselves. The number of casters present was more than I'd ever think I would see in my lifetime. There were shades present as well, and other entities too dark to tell. That entire place was clouded in shadow magic..." She stopped inbetween the new warden and Waethrin.


Their situation was dire, as always. The question was what to do now? There was the group that they had split from that had gone off towards the lands of the Sur. They'd have to meet up with them, or return to the guides outside of Rosenfall. "Were there other wardens with you?" She turned towards Waethrin. The man had performed better than she had expected, having saved most of their asses at the least. "We should meet with the other group in Usolath. And try to reunite her with her dragon." She looked back to warden. "It's the least I can do after closing the portal."

 

[Toogee]

<p>


<strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Aurea and Plainswalker</span></strong> <strong>Woodlands of Valnahar- South</strong>


</p>


<p>


</p>


<p>


Deep within the woodlands, Plainswalker made his daily trek through the woods. His exploration often lasted for hours, from morning to evening. While fairly thorough, the dragon was careful to mind the rules of the Sur, as Alfwin had lain out. PW was to eat what he needed and nothing more. Meat was to be limited to carrion. Being an omnivore, the dragon wasn’t without options. He could eat a little of everything without affecting the environment too much. In addition, his metabolism allowed him to go for weeks without eating anything. The only visible impact he would leave would be the broken branches along his path and the giant footprints in the mud.


</p>


<p>


</p>


<p>


The gentle giant lumbered through the woods, taking in the sights. The trees were much thicker here than back at the house, but beams of sunlight managed to break through and dimly illuminate the surroundings. Due to the dim lighting, there was barely any ground cover under the trees, though bushes were spread around the woods. They often provided berries of all sorts, but it seemed the bears had gotten many of them. PW looked upward: songbirds from all over had come to the woodlands for the winter. They sang a symphony for all of those below. The dragon whistled the bluebird’s chorus, their tune getting stuck in his head.


</p>


<p>


</p>


<p>


A couple of frolicking squirrels chased each other up the dragon’s grassy pelt, acting as passengers for the remainder of his trip. A bobcat gave PW a wide berth, to which he replied with a nod. As the dragon went further up the trail, a fawn attempted to graze upon the walking plains. His stick legs fumbled about as the little one tried to keep up while snacking upon the dragon’s back leg. When PW turned around to see what was going on, the baby deer immediately bolted for his mother, hoping not to anger the beast. On the contrary, the dragon merely chuckled as he continued on his way.


</p>


<p>


</p>


<p>


He eventually crossed a babbling stream emptying into a pond. The dragon took a moment to watch the trout swimming in the pond. At the same time, he reflected upon his conversations with his warden. Not the ones of baubles and work tasks, but the silent ones, the moments where no words were spoken. Deep down, they knew they couldn’t stay in this place forever. Hunters would come for them one day once there was nowhere else to look. It was a shame: Aurea deserved such a peaceful place to live out her life after everything she had been through. He wanted to stay here just as much; he had grown rather fond of the natives of the forest. One day, they would have to bid farewell to Alfwin and find another place to lie low. Such was the life of the dragon warden now, perhaps the last the world would ever know.


</p>


<p>


</p>


<p>


Today was not a day to worry about such things. Today was wing day. The clearing up ahead was the perfect place to exercise his wings.


</p>


<p>


</p>


<p>


Plainswalker stopped as he looked upon the clearing. It was one of the few places with enough space for his massive wingspan. Yet it was currently occupied by the last things he ever expected to see again. It was the biggest gathering of dragons and wardens he had ever seen since the Haven. He could immediately identify the dragon species: arcane and fire. Below them were 3 wardens. Given the mismatch in numbers, something had clearly gone wrong. Though he didn’t know any of them personally, that was soon to change.


</p>


<p>


</p>


<p>


To those in the clearing, they would quickly notice the loud rustling of the foliage as the earth dragon made his slow approach. Heavy footsteps heralded his arrival, his head peeking out of the woods to get a closer look. The rest of his body quickly followed, revealing his large form. Plainswalker greeted the visitors with <strong><a href="



rel="external nofollow">a series of squawks</a></strong>, letting them know that he came in peace. Finally, once the shock of PW’s appearance wore off, one could see his saddle still strapped upon his back. This was no wild dragon.
</p>


<p>


</p>


<p>


<strong>@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @Effervescent</strong>


</p>

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

​

​

If there was not a warden present in front of her, Feria would have likely taken to scolding Ifer for his harshness. She understood why, truly, she did. Despite their growing farther and farther apart, Feria and Ifer were still one and the same, linked together for the rest of their lifetimes. But Feria had grown tired of many a thing, while Ifer furiously sought out what had been lost between them. He was afraid for her and for their relationship, and at the same time, he was jealous of the fact that she was growing up and he was not.


Before she could speak to the warden, a familiar face appeared. A small, weary smile appeared on her face as Thannel stepped forward. She kept a gentle hand on Ifer's snout in reassurance, but the ice dragon did not feel threatened by the presence of the man. “Feria, Ifer,” he said to the two. “What news from the group? I had planned to return, but I ran into a Sur scouting group and we were ambushed. Were you able to negotiate with the orcs?” The smile dissipated as Ifer let out an agitated huff; they were both here to be the bearers of bad news, and they were dreading it.


Feria opened her mouth to speak, the female warden's expression changed, and she turned back inside in a flutter of realization. Feria watched her until she disappeared inside the building once more, and then turned her gaze back to Thannel. "Perhaps it would be best if I presented the news inside before anything." She told him, beginning to make her way towards the building. Ifer whined his protest, and she whipped around to gaze at him intensely. What, are you wanting to walk inside with me? Her narrowed eyes snarled at him, and he looked away in defeat.


She walked inside with Thannel alongside her, but could not for the life of her muster any small talk. Voices echoed throughout the halls but she only caught the ending bits of the conversation, but the gist of it seemed to be that they had found the solution to be working together - as nappy as it sounded, Feria felt pleased to know it was beginning to be realized. She thought of Hale, his death still fresh in her mind, still wounding her as much as the physical injuries she'd suffered. His sacrifice would not be in vain, all their sacrifices could not be in vain. This had to end, sooner or later, she told her herself.


Their approach did not go unnoticed by the group. Just as they began to mull over Raleia's proposal, their eyes glanced towards the entrance where their footsteps drew closer. The two orcs leaned in towards each other to quietly discuss in their native tongue seemingly uninterested in the newcomer's arrival. Prince Asal lofted a brow as he looked between the Vuaturi and the unfamiliar Dragon Warden, his body turning to face them as he awaited an explanation.


"Your majesty," Thannel spoke softly as they came to a halt before the group. "May I present Dragon Warden Feria. I traveled with her and another group that headed towards the border between the Woodlands of Valnahar and the Orcish Lands. She has news to present."


With that, Prince Asal gave a small nod and looked to Feria intently. Thannel's words seemed to spark interest in the orcs as they turned to look upon the new Dragon Warden, their banter halted to join the anticipation of news.




"Please, pardon my intrusion." She said upon entering the room, quickly bowing to the royal figures. This could not wait any longer. "I bring dire news from the Ruins of Sol'davur. Upon our arrival we were attacked by Shadow mages -- they came from portals in the sky, like I'd never seen. I was sent away to warn you of this ambush immediately -- I saw practically nothing of the battle." It hurt to admit it all. The attack, the loss she knew would be present when she heard from her companions once more, the fact that she was not there to help.


Now that she had delivered the important info, Feria took a moment to glance about the room, shock settling in as her gaze fell on one face in particular. Her mouth fell open slightly as she looked upon Olsten, a face she had not imagined she'd see ever again, if at all. Truthfully, she should have known better than to consider the strong-willed boy dead.
​

I N F O

LOCATION


Usolath


WITH

@Elle Joyner @Effervescent @Macaberz

 

[Macaberz]

Grybil craned his neck outside of the building he'd been led into by the Sur. Wine-red blood dripped from his snout, the remains of a meal he'd devoured just moments before he picked up on a familiar scent. Curious, the lithe Fire Dragon lumbered out into the frigid snow, pausing ocassionaly to sniff the air. It smelled familiar.


It smelled of Dragon.


Grybil returned inside briefly before re-emerging with a deer carcass between his jaws. A welcoming gift for the other of his kind.


Soon, he didn't need to rely on scent anymore. Ifer, came swooping down rather bombastically and he recognized the ice dragon immediately. After Thannel and Feria had gone inside, Grybil stalked closer, like a cat onto a bird, his tail sashayed left to right and back again. His gut told him the other Dragon was wounded and so he approached carefully. A low, guttural rumbling sound came from his throat, almost cooing. As soon as he came within Ifer's range, he started to circle the ice Dragon, searching for any sign of physical injury. A wound to lick in an act of comeradry. When he couldn’t find any, he simply sat down beside the ice Dragon and dropped the bloody deer carcass at Ifer's feet. His attention shifted back to his rider. Soon the negotiations would be at an end and Olsten made it clear he wanted the Orc to see at least one Dragon on their way out, regardless of the outcome of the negotiations. The boy was in luck, the Orc would get to see at least two. Casting a hastily glance over his shoulder, the fire Dragon folded his wings completely to obfuscate the still healing injury under one of his wings. Now all he had to do was wait.


---


As soon as he'd finished speaking, Thannel returned with Raleia in tow. Surprisingly, she appeared wholly recovered from her meltdown and he was secretly glad she once again took the lead. Fair or not, Olsten knew all too well that both the Sur and Orc would feel much less inclined to listen to him, a mere child in their eyes, than they would to Raleia, altough she was young too.


His attention turned to the unarmed Warden behind Raleia. Even before their eyes met, he knew exactly who it was. His stomach tightened to the size of a marble. Out of all the oeople he wished to avoid...But his initial, hard expression melted away at the sight of Feria's lost limb. She hadn’t deserved that. She hadn't deserved losing Zachary either. She hadn't deserved to have suffered through the pain bestowed upon her by Vorstag. Most of all, she hadn't deserved his hatred for her. During his lonely travels, after having seperated from the ragtag group at the Silver inn, he'd often regretted having gone his own way in a flash of anger. It had been the last time he'd seen Hale...and they hadn’t parted on good terms.


So while Raleia spoke, Olsten shuffled over to Feria with downcast, guilt-ridden eyes. Yet he didn't say anything. There was nothing he could say. He was just glad she was still alive and wanted nothing more than to comfort her. In silence and standing on the tip of his toes, his arms wrapped around her as he pulled her into a warm, welcoming embrace. "I am sorry," he mouthed as he disengaged from the brief but heartfelt hug. Then his eyes settled on the negotiations once more.


@Effervescent @CloudyBlueDay

 

[Effervescent]

Edlenfeld

​

“Edlenfeld,” the Warden repeated softly, a hand reaching up to this side of her head. “I was North. At the Ruins of Sol’davur. That window in the sky opened up as we were negotiating with the orcs. Shadow Casters flew through the air like ink in water and… There were so many.”


Her voice trailed off, her mind roaming through the events until Cinder posed her question. “No,” she said, “they all had their dragons. I had my dragon, too. But… We’re so far away now. I can't feel him.”


A small, grateful smile adorned her feature at Cinder's kindness. She didn't blame the woman for the portal closing, and if their positions were switched she would have likely done the same. After seeing what came from the portal and what was on the other side, it was best to shut down their incantation before it got out of hand. She was eager to return to her friends to make sure they were alright.


“I sent a friend to Usolath,” she said to the two. “They're the closest major settlement to what was happening at the ruins. The flight shouldn't take but some hours from here if either of your dragons don't mind an extra passenger.”


Now out of the fog, the sky above through the barren treetops was beginning its colorful displays of dawn. Had it been that long? She struggled to remember how much time had even passed since the fall of Haven. She let her hand fall back to her side heavily.


“I'm Idhrenan, by the way.”


Before much else could be said, there came a distant, yet distinct rhythmic thundering. Idhrenan looked down at her feet as she began to feel the vibrations at her toes. Loose dirt and pebbles bounced, the trees shaking as the booming and crashing grew closer and closer. Idrenan’s body relaxed as soon as she saw the giant dragon emerge. Earth Dragons were so gentle, at least in her experiences, and so it felt relieving to see such a massive guardian in their midst.


“You have a rider?” she asked as she observed the saddle on his back. She looked over to Cinder and Waethrin. “You're free to go on ahead to Usolath without me, but ever since our home was destroyed I've found we need all of us we can find.”


@Red Thunder @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm @Toogee

Usolath

​

The two orcs halted as Olsten spoke commandingly, and turned back to face the boy in both interest and curiosity. It was the first time since they arrived that they regarded him as more than just a child. They both looked down at the flame conjured within his hand. It was a risky move to threaten the orcs with hints of possible violence. While they felt no threat or fear, his move garnered respectful attention, and they listened to what he had to say intently.


The prince looked over to the orcs as he realized he was right. He was guilty, too, of dismissing him so easily due to his apparent age. The boy still held his signs of youth in his cheeks and eyes. And now he hoped that his adversaries standing across from him would feel what he felt; that they really did need to consider aiding each other in order to survive the Winter. His heart ached for his people, his family, trapped by the Shadow in Folhath. The orcs did say their weapons were designed to combat such a threat.


A few tense moments of silence followed, and then the orcs quietly conferred with each other in their native tongue once again. The orc male’s massive hand occasionally motioned towards the door. The woman stood still, her arms crossed under the furs draped across her muscular form. Her tusks jutted out from her lower lip like ivory blades that curled just slightly towards her nose. Their conversation was cut off as Raleia entered once again. It wasn't until after the Dragon Warden expanded upon the proposal that the orc woman spoke, her accent more thick than her male counterpart.


“We cannot guarantee our leaders will accept,” she said, “but I accept. My name is Drau of Clan Umun, daughter to Ch’nazir Grol’Tak Umun. I will present this to the clansmen and the Ch’nazir. If he agrees, it will be presented to all clans. The most I can guarantee now is that I relay this proposition.”


“Will your people allow Dragon Wardens to accompany?” Prince Asal asked. The orcs nodded.


“Dragon Wardens will be respected,” Drau assured.


Prince Asal turned back to the two Dragon Wardens ready to further the proposal when the doors opened once again. Were it under better pretenses, Asal and Nrem would have welcomed another Dragon Warden with a warm smile. But Feria presented grave news, and it stirred the two orc visibly as their heavy brows knit and they shifted in their stances.


“It looks like we may backtrack after all,” Drau said. “My men are just infantry marking the path for our larger weapons. If we advance too far without them, it will be a lost cause.”


“If we are to do as proposed,” Prince Asal said, “then I would like to accompany you along with these Dragon Wardens. As Prince I am able to speak on behalf of my father since he cannot be present. Nrem will remain here to lead in protecting Usolath should the Shadow find its way here.”


“We leave as soon as possible,” Drau said, and then looked to the Dragon Wardens. “Would it be too much to ask you to ride to the ruins to assess what has happened? We need any pertinent information in the matter before we approach, or even if we should. You are faster on your dragons.”


@Elle Joyner @Macaberz @CloudyBlueDay @Nivi

 

[Red Thunder]

Waethrin


The Woodlands of Valnahar
​

She could no longer feel her dragon. Waethrin frowned, trying to place himself in their new companion's place. To be separated from one's dragon, to no longer feel his mind... The thought stoked the fire in the old man's belly.


But Idhrenan was concerned with more than just her lost dragon: Usolath seemed the be the place of rendezvous, and the more wardens what could gather there, the better. And, too, though she did not reference it, they needed warning of that... Thing they'd encountered in Edlenfeld. And it seemed as though Waethrin would be the one to deliver that warning. From seemingly nowhere, a Wyrm alighted in their midst, and Idhrenan began speaking of further seeking more Wardens. The corner of his mouth turned up in a sneer, Waethrin climbed onto Ancalagon's shoulder.


"I shall head to Usolath. What allies you may have arranged for or know if there need to be made aware of what transpired in Edlenfeld, and of the Hell that is seeping north from that village. I should think more aid should be sent to Usolath, were evil to befall them there, but by all means, stay and maybe make some new friends."


Below him, Ancalagon rumbled, chiding his Warden. The old man swung his head around, glaring fire into the back of his Drake's skull for an uncomfortable moment. Finally he turned back to the others, his gravely voice strained in forced meekness.


"Send word if you have need of us, or if you find some more worthwhile purpose than the salvation of the world from the encroaching, all corrupting Shadow." He looked to Cinder, seemingly to spit further bitterness, but refrained. Instead, he finished wryly. "We shall make all haste."


His Warden having said his peace, Ancalagon pushed heavily into the air, wings beating slowly. In a short time they shrank into the distance, bound for Usolath.


@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

​

​

Once Feria and Thannel had vanished inside, Ifer knew he was to hide himself away, presumably with the other warden's dragon. But the first dragon he came to encounter was not a new one, and upon the sight of Grybil coming through the brush with a deer carcass in his mouth. At first, Ifer stood still as Grybil circled him, spikes pointed upwards like a cautious cat. But Ifer could understand that Grybil was no foe despite earlier altercations, and eventually relaxed in his presence, catching scent of the injury underneath his wing before he hid it from sight.


Ifer gnawed on the carcass hungrily and greedily. When he had finished eating, Ifer sat poised next to the other dragon, licking his maw of blood and staring forward at the building where his warden had entered. His tail swishing behind him, glancing at Grybil momentarily and letting out a huff. Ifer did not like this -- this idle waiting. He arched his back and dug his claws into the snow, a low rumbling sound coming up from his belly. Grybil didn't seem to mind. While neither of them were patient beings, this felt like a stretch. It was strange not to have utter faith in his warden, but he could not help but fear for her. They had both been through so much. He wanted her to be okay.


Ifer could not condemn himself to sitting still any longer so he took to prowling around the space. Feria was exhausted, but Ifer wasn't there quite yet. Ifer was angry, and he only kept on getting angrier. At this rate, he huffed so angrily often enough he could've been mistaken for a fire dragon if only he weren't an icy shade of blue.


--


She could see distaste turn to guilt in Olsten's eyes, and truth be told she would have preferred the distaste. Feria kept her harsh gaze as the boy stood frozen, soaking in her presence. She did not want his guilt, nor his regret or his sorry. A part of her simply did not want to be seen as weak -- a part of her didn't feel as if she deserved it. She was here on a mission that belittled her, proved that she was unfit for anything better. Feria's fist clenched at her side as she sharply pointed her eyes downward, teeth gritted. Perhaps it would just be best to ignore him, if he was going to look at her like that. This wasn't something she could afford to get worked up over, not now.


Moments later Feria found herself in a tight embrace, Olsten standing on the tip of his toes just to reach her properly. Feria blinked in shock, not making a sound, until he disengaged, and mouthed "I am sorry," Her lips pursed. He was sorry. For her arm? For his anger, for his leaving them? For all the past encounters? What? What was he sorry for? Was he sorry for her? She didn't want his sorry, but all the same, Feria knew it meant something larger than her petty bitterness for him to say those words.


Before he moved away, she lifted her hand to his cheek for a moment, gazing into his eyes. Her hands were not soft, but her touch was, and if anything, she would perhaps be saying, Me too. Her look only softened momentarily, and once he'd moved away, she resumed her hard stare.


“We leave as soon as possible,” Drau said, and then looked to the Dragon Wardens. “Would it be too much to ask you to ride to the ruins to assess what has happened? We need any pertinent information in the matter before we approach, or even if we should. You are faster on your dragons.” Feria swallowed, and then gave a curt nod. She knew Ifer would not be pleased but she would make sure he knew she would not tolerate his insolence.



​

I N F O

LOCATION


Usolath


WITH

@Elle Joyner (@Effervescent @Macaberz)

 

[Nivi]

Spoiler

Upon the revered mountaintops of Valnahar, the Veridan mountains, there lived a rather exquisite duo of Dragon Warden and Dragon. Llamaryl, a Dragon Warden whom survived the attack on Haven by the skin of her teeth, and her not so legendary half pig half dragon Negloth. Having lived so long in a Shae village there in the mountains for such a long time now, it was only natural for them to assume that the amount of Haven survivors that made it out were slim to none, despite not having searched the continent for them.


Life was relatively subtle in the mountaintops. Llamaryl had gotten the hang of how the goatfolk spoke, and Negloth wasn't much of a bother to the villagers, save for harassing their cattle every few weeks. Llamaryl had gotten accustomed to her new life, and felt that she quite enjoyed life on the mountaintops. Her counterpart and best friend, Negloth, however, felt the opposite. He disliked the Shae people, and recent talk of dragon sightings down west at the woodlands had the poor giant unsettled.


Negloth was frustrated, more than anything. Shae children would often use his massive back, and the tree growing from it, as a makeshift playground. He would occasionally pick up the scent of two other dragons, but they would eventually drop. Negloth disregarded it as simple nostalgia, if dragons could even feel that. Furthermore, he was always taunted by the assortment of cattle living with the Shae, Negloth knowing that he'd be in trouble if he ever took a bite. After having grown a vast distaste for his new home, and being recently having picked up the constant torment that was the scent of Ifer and Grybil, Negloth decided to simply leave one morning.


The grumpy old dragon, murmered lowly, shoing off the Shae children from his back. He nibbled down on the back of Llamaryl's corset as she came to check on him, hoisting her onto his back with ease. "Eeee! N-negloth, no! Put me down!" The half elf yelped, plopped down onto his back. Without warning, the Dragon took off, cracking open his massive wingspan. Raining dust and pebbles over the Shae village, Negloth promptly flapped away, headed west for the woodlands. "Negloth, you ate three days ago! How could you possibly be searching for food again this early?" The dragon retorted with a quiet grumble, Llamaryl soon realizing he was quite agitated, even for his usual case of the morning grumps. In truth, Negloth was not looking for food. He'd been following the scent of two other dragons, this time confident that it wasn't just his mind making these things up.


Taking a sharp swoop downwards, Llamaryl squealed loudly. He dove in towards the woodlands, the flap of his wings harassing all the local poultry. Calming herself down, Llamaryl took a minute to enjoy the beauty that were the woodlands. Her her flew dramatically with the wind, and the view couldn't be better. It wasn't until Negloth abruptly came onto the Northern location they called Usolath that Llamaryl finally snapped out of her daydream, looking down.


Negloth flew high, circling the Greathall where Wardens, Orcs, and Sur alike negotiated. He spotted two other dragons near some shrubs, flapping his wings in a taunting manner as he circled about. "Negloth, look! Those are drag--" Negloth interrupted Llamaryl in an aggressive ear-piercing, dramatic roar, audible throughout the entire valley. Llamaryl covered her pointed ears, wincing at the noise. "N-negloth! What's gotten into yo--" The dragon then screeched in the same manner as he'd roared, equally loud yet considerably sharper, his neck perpetually craned down at the two dragons several hundred feet beneath him. Negloth sounded particularly angry, and Ifer and Grybil could not mistake his cries. Negloth being larger than both dragons combined, he was confident he could take them on. He'd challenged them both to a duel.<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_08/upload_2016-8-5_1-48-44.png.a18fddc86894f896fb31ae1e65ce2ddf.png" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="148950" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_08/upload_2016-8-5_1-48-44.png.a18fddc86894f896fb31ae1e65ce2ddf.png" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

 

[Elle Joyner]

They agreed. It wasn't a sentiment of abject submission. It wasn't a signed treaty of peace between the lands. But it was a start, and it was good. It was good and quick, and everything that they needed to begin the arduous task of bringing down the Shadow threat and restoring the lands to their former glory. This was why the Wardens existed, and if Raleia had anything to say about the matter, and it seemed she wasn't utterly useless afterall, she would continue to honor their code, no matter how few of them remained. They had been called to it and she would not ignore that call, even if she was the last who held to the old ways.


They had agreed... And not a moment too soon, for Feria's words were grave, indeed, and at the weight of them, Raleia considered how far the Shadow had traveled. Portals in the sky. It was something of a nightmare, and nothing like what she had imagined possible. The only way they were going to survive the Shadow's scourge was together, and it seemed at last the Orc and Sur could recognize this as well. Thallas... for their perpetual prejudice and foolish warmongering, they would fall. But in the hearts of some, at least, there was hope.


Turning Raleia nodded, her gaze shifting between Olsten and Feria, before settling on the Prince, "We will ride ahead. There are others, coming behind us. They've been investigating the threat of Shadow in the west. If it's as dire as it sounds, we will need all the help we can get. Have your people send them our way, when they arrive." When... or if, though she hardly dared to think what might happen if the others had fallen...


Shifting to the Orc, she bowed her head but as she opened her mouth to speak a sound overhead silenced her. A sound all too familiar, when one's own dragon was a stubborn, miserable cow... A threat. A challenge.


To her mind came the one thought she darn not speak out loud. Shadow Wardens...


" !@#$%^&*..." Came the quiet hiss and moving for the door again, she pushed it open and peered out into the snow-sod darkness to find only Grybil and Ifer, neither of whom could have made such a racket. A second cry pieced the night and her eyes moved upwards, to a sky obfuscated by trees and pale clouds. Blinking snow from her vision she stepped fully into the open and as she did, stirring up a great puff of snow and dirt, Winnock cascaded down from thin air to land between her and the smaller beasts, his trunk of a tail smacking the earth, sweeping around, encircling, caging her in place as he looked back and snapped his massive jaws. His eyes trained on the sky, smoke furling from his nostrils as, with a chattering sound, he watched the clouds.


"Good boy..." Raleia murmured, one hand on his flank, other at the ready, her heart pounding as she turned her gaze upwards as well, "Good boy..."

@Effervescent @Macaberz, @CloudyBlueDay, @Nivi

 

[Toogee]

<p>


Plainswalker continued his approach towards the wardens and dragons until the humans were within reach of his neck. The dragon sniffed all of them to get some sense as to who they were. Long Hair, Short Hair, and the Ancient One: all three smelt of Havenfolk. Or did the Haven smell of them? It didn’t matter: there wasn’t anything irregular about them, certainly nothing of shadow. Long Hair was the first to speak up, inquiring about his rider. Though he couldn’t speak the same language, PW’s interactions with people had exposed him to common forms of expression. He nodded his head in the affirmative. The dragon then turned back to the forest, encouraging the others to follow him back to Aurea. Just as soon as he did, however, PW heard the sounds of further talking and the beating of wings. The Ancient One had decided to fly elsewhere, supposedly to other wardens. It was a shame that the newcomer had to leave so soon, even if he didn’t exactly sound like a barrel of fun. There remained at least one warden, so the dragon dutifully led the way into the forest.


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Through her bond with Plainswalker, Aurea knew he had found something. She couldn’t see what it was and the dragon insisted on keeping it a surprise. It was important enough for the dragon to return to her well before he usually did. On the other hand, the last time he did this, he brought home a litter of skunks. They weren’t able to get the smell out for days. But this time was different. Aurea felt something she hadn’t felt in months. It felt like home. Aurea was taking a break from her early morning gardening to greet Plainswalker. She thought about gathering tomatoes for the potential skunk invasion, but the dragon had already arrived. Behind him was another figure, a woman. Aurea didn’t recognize her, but she definitely saw her red hair. She was a warden, another warden! For months, the only warden Aurea had seen was in a mirror. The teen quickened her pace to make sure her eyes weren’t playing a trick on her. Aurea stopped in front of Plainswalker, her hand on one of his front legs as she stared at Idhrenan. The girl’s eyes went wide, as if she had crossed paths with a mythical creature. It was true: Aurea wasn’t alone. Aurea was speechless; she wasn’t sure what to do next. Every part of her wanted to run to Idhrenan and hug her. No, maybe that’s too weird. She should let Alfwin know they have a visitor. Maybe…her dress! Aurea did not have a chance to clean up before they had arrived. Smudges of dirt were on the skirt, particularly where her knees would be. With the aid of her earth magic, she furiously brushed the dirt off of her. That was when she finally was able to speak up. “I-I would have cleaned up had I <em>known</em> we were having company,” Aurea said, though her frustrated look turned to Plainswalker. The dragon was sitting happily, knowing that she was still happy for the surprise.


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