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| A story twenty years in the making.; [private: Sir and Denthul] | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 24 2009, 05:38 AM (193 Views) | |
| Adenon | Apr 24 2009, 05:38 AM Post #1 |
Living Leviathan
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65 years ago. Adenon stood just inside of his mother's cavernous lair, high in the Cloudsweep Peaks, watching as a monstrous storm erupted over the Valley. Different colored lightning rained down for as far as even his draconic eyes could see. He cowered back as a bolt of lightning struck dangerously close to the cave entrance. A nip on his tail, caused him to turn his head as his mother dragged him further into the cave by his tail. "Do not go outside the cave, Deevdrudixarzithvurisk." She said in a whisper when she had finally released his tail. He looked up at her curiously, giving a yelp that only a young hatchling could give. "A great war is tearing through the lands. Three very powerful demons have made their way to our world, and they must be stopped before they tear our world apart." Adenon quivered as a rush of wind swept through the cave, carrying with it the sensation of great powers at war with one another. With a whine, he looked up at his mother, who lowered her head and gently licked the young hatchlings head. "You need not worry, my young love, the Gods war with the demons. Though, who will win is up for debate." She said, whispering the last part to herself out of Adenon's hearing range." She layed down on the cold icy floor, coughing, swallowing blood that had risen from her lungs. Her son didn't need to know of the affliction that had her gripped in the hands of death, nor that she had tried to face the demons herself, along with most of the remaining secondary dragon clan, only for most to fall before the youngest demon, the Demon of Terror. Adenon curled up beside his mother and fell asleep. Hundreds of Miles away The War had just started, the battle of Terror had begun on the island of Tor off of Avalon's eastern coasts. The massive army of the Gods had swept onto the island on ships that now were set aflame and sinking into the sea. Men and women in various sets of armor, had thrown down the flags of their respected God/dess to replace with swords, as monsters the likes of which had only been seen in nightmares smashed into their sheilds. Snakes, hordes of spiders and plagued rats slipped between legs, and under feet, biting and gnawing on exposed ankles and legs. Powerful demon's and fallen angels crashed into their good aligned brethren in the skies. With each moment the horrors that were meant to be kept in dreams rushed from the catacombs deep beneath the islands surface to take the place of those that had been slain. 45 years later. Adenon jerked up with a start, shaking his silver hair, as he looked around at the smoking, burned and dry region known as the Lost Lands. He sat up, rubbing the barren sides of his head. He pushed himself to his feet shortly after, spitting blood onto the ground. He shook the dragonscale armored coat he wore, and dusted the plated shoulders with his gauntlet bound hands. "Well, so much for a welcome." He growled, looking up at the sky as the dragons of the land flew overhead. Driven crazy by the gate to the underworld, the dragons hadn't even bothered to talk, just attack. The silver dragon wondered if they could talk at all, or if the ability had been lost to them. The golden eyed beast within gave a monstrous roar that shook Adenon's soul. "So much for getting answers either." He turned and started to make his way toward the nearest dirt road, keeping his ears open for the sound of the insane brutes attacking him yet again. He had come searching for answers of the beast that lay within his very soul, but had been met with claws and fire. He took off his gauntlets, and ran a thumb over a fresh slash to his face, feeling the blood trickle down his cheek. If he had been a thousand years older he would have been more than a match for them, with his dragon abilities, but he was still only 50 years old, and had a long wait ahead of him. His hand found the sword he had taken from his mother's lair when she had died, and stopped, remembering the dream he had seen when he had been knocked out. Was it a dream or a memory? He couldn't remember exactly. He kicked a passing tumbleweed. "Tor.." He looked toward the west, knowing the sea was somewhere beyond the horizon. "More questions than answers, but maybe these I can get the answers to." With a grim determination he turned west on the road and began making his way toward the far off coast. |
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| Scarlet | May 1 2009, 06:48 PM Post #2 |
Hey there little red riding hood~
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A plume of smoke arose not from dragon's maw, but form that of wolf. This was no hellfire however, rather it was much more ... calming. The euphoric scent of a mixture of self procured tobaccos ad the like were stuffed into a thin pipe of her own design. And it was this she made liberal use of in order to calm her own nerves and banish the scent of sulfuric fumes. Exhaling a ring which had taken her many years to perfect, the lycan strolled all too casually through the lands of scorched fields. This could be attributed to her age and having seen far more frightening things in her travels. But in all realty it was simply the smoke she settled briefly into her lungs and the fumes wafting inside her head. To her surprise, though her face did not show it, there was another bipedal figure on the sandy earth before her. Exhaling a final circle of smoke, she tapped the earth ware pipe across her thigh and emptied embers to the soil below. Stashing the implement in her pocket, her pace only marginally increased. It would not be until she had nearly sidled up to the, as she could now see, young man of some height, that she would speak. Her words were slow and controlled, of one perfectly calm and at peace with their surrounding despite the gloom. A hand would brush traveler's dust from the strange hide wrapped around her hips. "Hail traveler. Having a sot of trouble with dragon kin are we?" |
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| Angelo Karmal | May 6 2009, 02:56 AM Post #3 |
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'cause we are so in love.
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It was rather ironic that his place of appearance was not far from the gateway to the underworld. There was a quick flash of light – so quick that if one happened to blink at that exact moment one would completely miss it, and even if one did not blink at that moment it was so quick one could easily dismiss it as a trick of the mind – and a black rip appeared in the Lost Lands of Fincayra. From this black rip a small, insignificant pile of rags tumbled out, and then the rip closed up faster than a predator’s jaws and was gone just as fast. Nothing had changed in the Lost Lands. The lycanthropic human was still strolling through the harsh land, and the silver dragon was still walking determinedly westwards. However, a small addition had been made: the pile of rags (pure white in colour), which was now trembling and unfolding itself into a more recognisable form. First came a grey hand, groping the scorched earth around it, then a shoulder appeared, followed by a battered and grey wing. Finally the rest of the skeleton scrambled out of the rags and lay on the ground with his stomach against the hot red earth, panting and letting out a tiny sound, the kind that one usually hears from animals that are about to suck in their last breath. But the Angel did not die. He lay utterly still, his panting slowly turned into even breathing and the mewling sound died away. Everything about him was grey; it was as if though somebody had ground ash to a fine powder and sprinkled it all over him. His naked body, the feathers on his wings, and even his hair...everything was grey. It was not until he opened his eyes that some colour – and life – came to his body. His golden eyes stared, unfocused, at the cracked ground beneath his slightly raised face. His left arm jerked, he stretched it out before him and ran a finger along one of the big cracks. His grey lips twitched, moved slowly and clumsily, but emitted no sound. If one was adept at reading lips one could have discerned the words: “This is not heaven.” His lips twitched again – this time miming a sigh – and the Angel began to stand up. The process was slow and agonizing. His silence was broken by groans, panting and the same mewling as before, and by the time he was standing upright, he felt like throwing himself down onto the earth again, leaving himself to the mercy of the relentless sun. But he started to shuffle forwards, leaving the hazy mounds of rock behind him and heading out towards the shining flat plains of the Lost Lands. As the Angel walked, strange things happened to his body. At first he seemed unmarked, apart from one wing (which was smaller than the other one and bent at a strange angle), his right arm (which swung unnaturally by his side) and his hobbling (he seemed to favour one foot and was much more unsteady with the other one). But as he shuffled along, bruises bloomed like flowers beneath the covering of grey, and blood trickled from cuts that opened from nowhere. Sweat rolled down his bare body, but neither the sweat nor the blood nor the tears were able to wash away the greyness. It was at the moment when the sun was at its highest (or close to its highest) point that he came close to the two strangers, the lycanthropic human and the silver dragon. By now he was a mashed up grey mass that gasped and lurched forwards. The heat of the day had almost blinded him and he could only just make out the two figures. “It’s gone...” he rasped, and his voice was like sticks scraped against stone. “It’s gone,” he repeated. He stopped, though the difference between stopping and moving was almost indiscernible. He swayed and blinked rapidly, lifting his left arm to point at one of the figures. “Please...water...” he managed to say before collapsing to the ground in a heap. |
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DESCRIPTION INVENTORY  "I understand." "I promise." | |
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| Adenon | May 6 2009, 07:36 PM Post #4 |
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Living Leviathan
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Adenon ambled along the road, still knocking the dust from his armor, as he looked about the barren and scorched Lost Lands. His head was dizzy, and he nearly fell over a few times. He couldn't remember exactly how he had crashed to the ground, but he figured the good sized knot on the back of his head could possibly explain why he was having problem's remembering. He ran his hand through his hair, only to have his silvery strands of hair get caught on his gauntlet. "OW! Holy...! God Da..! " He twisted his hand before he was finally able to remove it from his hair, pulling only a few strands out with it. His silver and gold eyes narrowed at the sight of the strands and he resisted the urge to try his other hand and rubbing the pain away, for fear that it also would become stuck. With tears still in his eyes, he turned at the sound of a voice. He blinked away the wetness to see a woman, seemingly alone on the long stretch of road that was heading west. "Nay.. at least, I don't think so." He said, shaking his head abit at the question, as he stood to his full height, trying to ease the tension in his back and shoulders that was causing the bump on the back of his head to throb with pain. He could feel every beat of his draconic heart as the blood passed through his head, and it was enough to nearly have him hunch over again. "Mine kin and I have no problems, that I know of." He said to the woman with the hair of subtle browns and blacks, almost reminding him of tree bark, except for the few strands of gray. But the silver dragon didn't have long to think on the girl, as his draconic eyesight caught the appearance of a man, naked and battered, approaching. The blood, tears, and sweat on the man, was enough to make a normal man's stomach churn, and his heart ache for the man's suffering. He had wings of a bird, and his skin was like ash, the first thought in the Silver's mind was the man needed a bath. The young dragon put his forearm of his eyes, and turned his head, uncertain of whether to laugh, or offer the man something to wear. The crazed angel was muttering about something being gone, something have disappeared, but Adenon's only reply was, "My Goddess, put something on yourself." When the man asked for water, Adenon quickly moved to his belt, removing a canister from it and moving toward the man. Adenon looked back at the woman, and then moved between her and the angel. "Here," he said, placing the canister in the man's hand. " Juice from the fruit of a tree near where I live, staves off hunger for several days with but a swallow." |
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| Scarlet | May 8 2009, 04:19 PM Post #5 |
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Hey there little red riding hood~
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Expelling a final lungful of smoke, the lycan gave the hefty man an up and down glance. Though she was no longer quite so human herself, the old dog wouldn't want to tangle with him. Perhaps it was the scent of dragon kin that hovered about him. "Ell looks like ye took a right tumble with something." She laughed. "Not meanin' to offend." Scarlet was about to say something else when shuffling noises and the scent of decay floated on the air. "Eh?" She turned to follow the dragon's gaze, curious. It was quite different from things she'd seen in all her years. And then it spoke. Perhaps if she had been in her complete ... err... sober, state of mind, she would have moved faster. Alas, she was still too calm and casual despite the figure's condition. He said something was gone, but that meant nothing to her. She did notice however what little he had on. At the dragon scented man's insistence however, she removed her own cloak. It was all she could offer, the wolf skin she could never relinquish. "Aye. Give 'im this. Not much but it'll stave off that chill." She whipped the cloak from off her shoulders, handing it to the tall man who was already aiding the winged mess of crumbled feathers. |
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| Angelo Karmal | May 10 2009, 11:06 PM Post #6 |
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'cause we are so in love.
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It was just luck that the only people he had stumbled upon were relatively friendly - at least they had not tried to eat him (yet...). In fact, the man offered him a canister, and Angelo grasped it in his good hand. With only a few trembles, he brought the canister to his dried lips and took a gulp of the sweet liquid. He wanted to take another one, but heeded the man’s words, and very soon his stomach felt filled. However, he could not rid himself of the feeling of absence, a tickling at the back of his mind, the marrow of his bone, in his very blood. ‘It really is gone…all of it is gone…Oh how it pains me to think of it! But I must be strong! I will find a way out of here, but first I believe I am indebted to these good people.’ The woman had taken off her cloak and handed it to the man, who pushed it into Angelo’s good hand. He stared at it for a moment, shook his head and then looked down at himself. “Naked!” he cried out, his voice cracking. “I am naked! Naked as a baby’s bottom!” He felt like laughing, but held it back by biting his lips. Appearing to be insane might encourage these good people to eat him. Though would that not be a fitting end? Having survived an agent of the Dark only to be eaten by two strangers in the Lost Lands? He blushed and wrapped the cloak about him as best as he could. He was also startled by his grey skin. He tried to rub it off with his good hand, but nothing happened. He frowned, but let it be. It would go away in time, hopefully, as would the pain of his wounds. “Thank you for your kindness and forgive me for appearing before you in such a… such an undressed state. I assure you, it was not my intention. I suffered a bit of an…accident, shall we say.” A small, sheepish smile touched his lips, then he frowned again. “Forgive me for asking this of you, but…is my hair grey as well?” He tried to pull at the short strands but could not see them. |
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DESCRIPTION INVENTORY "I understand." "I promise." | |
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