Fantasy CLOSED The Saga of the Ryujin

Kaynus Allbright, The Insulted Deity
The Mountains of Athas

The Noble Blinding Divine White Dragon, Keeper of the Heavens, Heir to the Gods, and the Best Looking Ryujin in all of Existence, was struck abruptly with lightning and forced, ungracefully, to the ground.

As he fell, all he could think of was the humiliation. He slid out of consciousness and...

---

Kaynus Allbright was furious. Zalzabar had dared to strike a God, not once, but twice?! The audacity of this pathetic limpet filled Kaynus with rage.

"Zalzabar! How dare you!" he howled, a massive snarl covering his noble, dashing features. One of Peasant King Zalzabar's Peasant Subjects offered their pathetic assistance to Kaynus. He obliged, but gave this peasant fair warning.

"You should feel honoured that I am letting you help me, Kaynus Allbright! I could walk on my own at anytime, but I shall allow you to carry my royal weight." Kaynus finished, limping through the snow with Anaxagore.

Though he would never admit it, Kaynus decided that for now, he would mask his aura.

A clever strategy to make Zalzabar think I am learning... and then- death to that old fool!

Zalzabar would pay for this. The others making their rude comments would too. But Zalzabar had made the first move in the game. The game of death.

And he would indeed pay....

He would pay with his blood.

@Shadowsun @greyjedi125

 

The Strange Case of the Disappearing Wood Elf
​

Dominus's eyes flared with surprise as Rebecca spoke, scratching his arm with her finger, a trickle of blood flowing down. In an instant, the wound healed itself but that was far from the point. The snow elf just stared in disbelief he had never met any human nay any female quite like Rebecca, he was still completely clueless as to what to make of her. Picking his jaw off the ground he moved along, fuming silently behind her as Zalzabar gathered himself.
Zalzabar felt himself chuckle at Ensema's little comment, it had been two long oh what stories that had to share since they last met... the elder ryujin turned around and did a quick headcount looking over everyone and their little interactions. They formed a neat little line, Zalzabar, and Esenma at the front, Rebecca just behind them, and Dominus tailing her watching her like a hawk. Then the pair half-orc and snow elf pair followed by the disgruntled Kaynus supported by Anaxagore.

As he felt Kaynus's aura dim Zalzabar took out the orb once more letting the light dim as the adept ryujin would feel their magic rush back to them.

"It is vital you all keep your aura suppressed, only if it is a life or death situation should you unmask yourselves," he spoke solemnly as pocketed the inhibitor orb. He then narrowed his eyes, sighing deeply to himself. He looked over to where Esenma shrieked his keen ears picking up some of the conversation. He opened his mouth to stop Taella, to inform her of how terrible of a decision that was. He began to shift his hands conjuring a set of underwear, but the little elfling was faster than he anticipated, off before he could finish the spell, the pair of knickers floating down slowly through the air where she had been standing. The lightning ryujin turned to face Esenma.

"There's no stopping that little minx is there?"

Without waiting for a reply he turned back around motioning for them to all march forward, he would be lying if he said he was uneasy about Taella going off but there was little he could do, splitting the group further would be a poor decision he could only hope that she made it there and back safely. As they began to march Zalzabar informed them all of a little sleepy mountain village that was not too far from where they were and that was where they were headed, it would take several hours though to get there.

The cold air was warmer than where they had been before, although that was not saying much, young Creatus ran up to Zalzabar asking if there was anyway to keep him warm, the elder ryujin eyed the boy for a moment before materializing to him a large warm cloak, wrapping it around the boy, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He could sense the worry in Cretaus's eyes for the young wood elf, the expression was clear, he simply smiled, and ruffled his hair, musing that she would be okay.

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 @Ktala @Kurisan @The Jedi in the Pumas @greyjedi125 @Mitth_Fisto @Master Vo'Un'Var @Darth_Elu (To observe)

OOC: A shorter update I know, for this update you are more than free, nay encouraged to combo with each other little conversations as the group walks through the mountains. Just keep in mind the next update will be eventful as you do these posts.

 

A Combo with @greyjedi125! Part 1 of 2

Kaynus & Anaxagore
On the journey...

Kaynus Allbright trudged through the snow, leaning onto Anaxagore, with an incredibly ugly and vain sneer spread all over his face.

"Well peasant man, I cannot recall your name, but I am sure it was of no importance..." Kaynus drawled, scratching the tip of his nose before continuing.

"Tell me, what brought you to drool over Zalzabar and his pathetic groupies?"

"Hey peasant boy...." Anaxagore said with a chuckle. "You pretend so hard to be royal, we can all tell you must be of low birth, that's what all low borns do: pretend. I mean, you have no proof of rank, so there's that. I was already at the castle slow dome, when you flopped on the snow, looking quite pathetic. So, what hole did you crawl out of? "

Anaxagore smiled innocently, to the start of their friendly conversation. The adept ryujin was all too familiar with this silly game and was quite adept at it. Kaynus would need to realize on his own that he would follow his tone and attitude. If he wished for respect, he would need to render it.



Kaynus Allbright, wide-eyed, turned his head to meet Anaxagore's eyes. A look of horror spread all over his flabbergasted face.

"You dare...?!" Kaynus uttered in a breathless, shaky voice as his shock was apparent.

"YOU DARE INSULT ME LIKE THIS?!?!?!?" Kaynus roared, flinging himself off Anaxagore as a support, and stood, limping slightly, in the snow. He pointed a finger to Anaxagore with a dramatic posture.

"I am Kaynus Allbright! The Son of the Almighty-"

Kaynus paused. For the first time in many, many years, he thought about what he was about to say.

Perhaps... These fools would not be too pleased with such a piece of information...

Kaynus sneered, and turned his face the other way.

"What could you know, you sniveling imbecile! I am more powerful and more royal then you could ever dream to be. You shall regret ever putting forth such foul lies! Tell me, where did you come from, eh? Called out of the vilest mound of Ryujin dung in the land! Perhaps that is how you got your blessing! The Dragon of Dung!" Kaynus spat, glaring at this foolish child who dared to question his magnificence!

Anaxagore chuckled.

"You are way too easy to offend....." Anaxagore chuckled again. "Didn't you have any friends growing up? Dragon of Dung? You could do better than that. Try again, and this time be a bit more creative...." He said with some encouragement. Because it was clear that Kaynus was fragile in that respect and would not last a minute in any tavern in the real world, and then the tavern would not last against Kaynus the minute after. That was not a comforting realization.

So a crash course was needed, for the party's sake. It was also good to see that he was hobbling on his own, at least his displeasure was helping him focus.

"Now relax and don't look so serious, you'll give yourself away and lose the game."

Kaynus snarled, but paused.

Damn peasant. He'll pay!

After a great deal of consideration in his mind, Kaynus held back his insults, and let out a deep breath. He took out a diamond smoking pipe, encrusted with a few pearls here and there, and lit it and took a few puffs before turning his heel and beginning to limp across the snowy ground.

"I will not play your petty, mortal game, lesser Ryujin." He said, fully believing that the term lesser ryujin was no insult but merely a fact that everyone but himself had to acknowledge.

"You still never managed to answer my question..." Kaynus said, his voice now returned to his calmer state.

"You could learn a lot from mortal games...." Anaxagore offered with care, more as information for consideration than anything else. He ignored the lesser ryujin jab, there would be time enough to address that later.

"The Three made all things in balance and in harmony. To disrespect their work is to disrespect The Three."

Anaxagore still couldn't understand how such a concept was hard to grasp. It was rather self-evident, at least in his eyes. No point in getting into that now.

"You should really try to get to know people, then you might see they aren't as bad as you think- and who knows, you might make some nice companionship, if you know what I mean."

The dark haired ryujin gave a sly smile despite flushing a bit red, though he was uncertain if Kaynus [i[knew[/i] what he was referencing. Lady Esenma's talk of mating was a bit...crude, but she did have a very good point.

"In any event, I'm not sure you'd know where I hail from; sounds like you haven't explored much of Regnum; no offense intended. Still, I have no idea how you came to hear of Lord Zalzabar's quest, but believe it or not, I saw Lord Elder's letter on a job board inside a tavern. Everyone seemed to be ignoring it, saying there were no riches to be found in the snowy wasteland. But once I read it, I knew I had to take it, something stirred inside of me- I felt a calling."

Anaxagore smiled lightly, then shook his head at the memory. He hadn't told anyone about that; it was strange sharing it with Kaynus, but these were strange times.

"How did you find out?" He asked suddenly, deflecting attention from himself.

Kaynus forced himself not to laugh at Anaxagore. A calling! This peasant thinks that he could possibly have any calling from the Gods! That right was reserved for Kaynus, and Kaynus alone! Though, when Anaxagore mentioned companionship, Kaynus went eerily quiet.

There were not many of the opposite sex in his home, and in truth, there was merely one thing in the world that Kaynus was truly scared of.

Women.

They terrified him, and some were actually able to just walk up to them and talk to them. It was a power that Kaynus was insanely jealous of.

"No God needs the comfort of females!" Kaynus retorted, before listening to Anaxagore's last question. It made Kaynus visibly uncomfortable, which he quickly replaced with a scowl.

"Me..? Oh, one of those flyers you talked about... What a fool, giving directions to his keep on a flyer all over Regnum! No wonder that pathetic worm's castle was destroyed!" Kaynus answered, visibly getting angered at the mere thought of Zalzabar towards end.

Kaynus scratched his chin, which was absent from facial hair (much to his sadness). His mind wandered back to Anaxagore's shared memory.

"A tavern. Yeuch. Those places are full of filth, and so is most of Regnum! I have no need to travel it. I can simply rule it when I become the Emperor of Regnum. Perhaps I shall be merciful to you if you change your tone, weakling." Kaynus said, glancing to Anaxagore, offering a look as if to say I am nice, see?

Anaxagore shook his head, a wry smile upon his face.

"Well, if you don't like women, other arrangements can be made, I'm sure."

Had it been anyone else, Anaxagore would have chuckled, but he did not. Because mating was a natural part of the cycle. To go against the cycle....well, that just didn't end well. He mentally made a note of things he would have to introduce to his socially inadequate ryujin, for his own sake. He was originally hoping to have a conversation along these lines with Cretaus, however, he took this as an unexpected assignment.

"So, I guess you'll simply have to find another place to be Emperor of, since the The Three created Regnum and you just called their creation filth and unworthy. An Emperor who is not loved by the people is called a Tyrant, in case you were wondering. So, you will be doing the work of Sapientis then? Because that's what's coming out of your mouth if you think about it, hmmm."

In his mind, he could not imagine the circumstances that created Kaynus. Did his parents not love him? The young noble was ill-prepared to deal with reality of any kind. His delusion was very strong, but were they irreversible? Anaxagore couldn't quite tell. He paused only long enough for Kaynus to reflect on his own words. Maybe, just maybe, he would do some critical thinking on his own- or not.

"As for being weak, anytime you want to spar, just say the word." A glint shone in the warrior's eye.

"Rebecca proved herself against me and Dominus. She's definitely no push over, so I suggest you skip her."

A little chuckle did escape him then. That would be a messy encounter if it ever happened.

"But get better first, I'd hate to win too easily because you're hurt."

He immediately knew Kaynus would not react well to being teased, so he simply waved him down.

"Kaynus, seriously, from one ryujin to another. That overwhelming pride of yours is your biggest handicap. Take it from someone who knows."

Kaynus went red in the face.

"What? No, you've got the wrong idea! It's not that I don't like women it's just-"

Kaynus began to stumble on his words, but the embarrassment would have to be painfully dwelled on later, as Anaxagore continued their conversation.

Kaynus frowned. Sapientis? Tyrant? Bold words for a bold peasant... The audacity!

And yet, in a small moment of silence between the two, Kaynus began to question some logic behind a few of his ideals... Until Anaxagore mentioned sparring.

"Me? Practice sparring?! With you?!?" Kaynus nearly launched a tirade of abuse until he stopped himself yet again. There could be some worth in learning how to fight outside his Ryujin form.

"Perhaps I will grace you with such an honour, peasant. And as for my pride! It is necessary for someone with such a blessing as I. Truly it is meant to be that I must spread word of my brilliance. You would not understand..." He said, waving away such a foolish piece of advice.

@Shadowsun @greyjedi125 and everyone else

 

(A combo post between @The Jedi in the Pumas and Myself)

IC Rebecca Dragon Esenma Ralinommu
On the Road

Rebecca smiled at Dominus as he recoiled from her nail cutting across his skin, drawing blood. Bright Eyes had run off and all the merc could do was shrug her shoulders. It seemed keeping the team together was an impossibility outside of the castle, even then they were only at the table for an hour? How were they going to be taking on a god dragon if they couldn't keep together for longer than a meal.

At least it was just one of them, they could move on missing one of their party.

She gave a thought to pestering Dominus a little more but the Old Woman had moved close.

She let Zalzabar get a few more steps in front of her as they continued down the path. Rebecca was clinking and clanging along the path in her armor. How did they put up with those heavy suits? Esenma had always wondered. She always thought of warriors and blade masters as magnificent experts, but a bit crude and barbaric. Mages were elegant and even the most ungraceful of the magic field were more pleasant to observe than the blood sports of the blade.

Rebecca was quite a rarity, so naturally somehow Zalzabar’s invitation had found a way into the sellsword’s possession. A human with bloodrage and one that seemed to have a modicum of control over it. Esenma got very close to the woman and ran a hand along her shoulder piece suggestively.

“Rebecca, dear, you don’t have any siblings do you?”

Esenma suspected the answer: humans with bloodrage normally were consumed by their blood and hatred early in their lives, most dying before their teenage years.

Rebecca's head snapped around her eyes narrowing at the mage, Esenma, or Old Woman as Rebecca referred to her. The Elder Ryujin was running her hand over the pauldron of the young merc like one would pet a cat, or a lover. She was an odd one, stranger than any Rebecca had met. Sure there was the odd romantic, and cad in merc camps, but nothing with the gusto of this woman. Though she seemed to just be having fun, never serious about anything, until the fight began.

The question was asked and there was just a flicker of confusion on her face, before returning to the crimson masked stare she hid behind.

"No I do not have siblings." She said walking while keeping an eye on the other woman.

Esenma’s eyes turned into catlike slits as a devious smile stretched across her face.

“I see. Well siblings are overrated, believe me. A bunch of bickering and scratching - *rawr rawr* Esenma mimicked and made playful claw scratches on Rebecca’s armor - and the more there are the more trouble the whole bunch gets into.”

“Buuuttt...”

Esenma eyes looked down the path.

“They do have their uses... for instance, a commonality... shared traits... Like your special trait... Have you ever met a warrior like yourself? With the same... affliction?”

Rebecca let out a bit of a long breath. She could see what Esenma was digging at, focusing in on the rage she showed in combat.

"I'm just very good at fighting." She said waving off the insinuation that there was anything wrong with her. "So I've met a lot of mercs that were skilled." The merc paused for a long moment thinking back to the castle, to the man she and Pretty Boy had faced, the look in his eyes, the lust for blood and violence. They were eerily similar. "Though..." she let the thought that was internal, become external if only for a moment. "That one guy..." Her face turned away pretending to look for possible threats.

Esenma kept her eyes on Rebecca’s face until the young woman turned away. She was not surprised that Rebecca could not sense it. Roger the Red’s scent of domination was more stark than the Fire Witch or the Sound Ryujin’s aura, but to an individual without magic, there would be no way Rebecca could tell.

“You mean The large man back at Zalzy’s castle... Ah yes, he has quite a mastery over his battle rage. It reminds me of a young orc woman I fell for a long time ago. She was gorgeous. Very strong, courageous, and skilled with her hands... on and off the battlefield.”

Esenma feigned a blush as she remembered her old fling and hooked Rebecca by the arm.

“Besides her and a small number of orcs, I’ve never seen an individual as in command of his bloodrage as that man back there. Quite terrifying... You... saw the difference, didn’t you? Between you and him?”

A terrible weight settled over Rebecca, the comment about past lovers sailing over her head as she recalled staring into the eyes of that monster. She knew, knew that she couldn't beat him, though her blood wanted her to try. Her burning lifeforce was desperate to face him again. In her heart she could feel fear, a fear that was masked covered by her madness, and the burning flames of her veins.

"He gave in..." She said quietly, almost solemnly. She recalled the promise she made to her father as he died in her arms. And the weight grew heavier, would she have to break her promise again? Would she be able to stop herself should the battle present itself again.

Rebecca had grown dark. Was it the power difference or something more? Esenma kept her smile up however and patted Rebecca’s arm.

“He gave in... indeed. Yet, you did not and were able to meet his blade. I am no warrior, like you Young Lady, but I think that means something. Maybe he gave into it because he doesn’t fear it... do you fear your blood, my dear?”

"No, I don't fear it." she got quiet again. She loved fighting, lived for it, but was that her blood, or her, was there any separating her from it? Her blood had gotten her this far, had kept her alive, had driven her to this point. She had control of it but it still guided her. Would she be a sellsword without her blood? Would she be a feared warrior without her blood? Would she be in constant war without her blood. The temptation was always there to just give in, that if she did she could feel that bliss forever, feel content, not have this burning hunger constantly inside her. "I just made a promise..." And there it was, the one thing keeping her from being the monster she, or was it her blood, wanted her to be.

“A promise over your blood? How interesting!”

They continued to walk and Esenma could tell Rebecca was getting more and more tense. The old mage was not a warrior. She did not know what it was like to crave bloodshed and war. She definitely enjoyed a good fight; it was not continuous desire to kill. There was a lot that the young warrior was carrying and it would not be resolved by a few pleasant words with an old elf.

Esenma let the silence hang for a moment before her inquiring mind made her ask:

“If you don’t end up killing that Roger character, he’s quite the hunk isn’t he?”

Rebecca was blindsided she'd been thinking of this man only as an enemy a foe to be defeated. This question had her narrowing her eyes at the old woman.

"I hadn't noticed, I was more focused on killing him..." Not that she honestly cared about, anything on the romantic side of life. Fighting was her love, her passion, her heart had no room for anything else.

“My dear, some of the best loves I’ve had came after a healthy dose of fighting and anger. It’s even a turn on for some. Wait...” the old woman’s eyes narrowed. Her face slowly crept closer and closer to Rebecca’s face to an inappropriate level.

“Sweety, you’re too gorgeous to not have the men going crazy over you. Your whole life can’t have been one fight after another... right?”

The warrior nearly pulled her face away from the encroaching gaze of the mage but, there was only so far she could go. The furrows on her brow deepened.

"There's been some sleeping, eating and traveling between the fights. I am a sellsword, fighting is what I do. And not many men like the sight of a woman covered in blood."

“But sommmeeee dooooo!” Esenma exclaimed. “Don’t forget the in between moments, my dear. You have all your life to fight and make coin, I assure you. The in between moments are what heals the scars, my dear. There will always be wars and someone that needs killing. And someone who will pay. You’re old enough to know that... I think you’re afraid of those moments... you don’t know what to do with yourself do you?”

Esenma chuckled.

“When good music plays, your hips don’t move do they? When handsome men and women are around, you don’t know how to flirt?” She continued to poke fun as her hand slid into Rebecca’s hand and she began to swing the warrior’s arm.

"I never understood music..." Rebecca said her face turning into a bit of a frown. "And I haven't met a single person that, made me feel. what's the line from those romantic poems? Like my heart was a flutter." She allowed the elf to swing her arm back and forth though she didn't necessarily enjoy it. "And yes I've spent my life moving from one fight to the next. Didn't have time for leaning the proper dances, or the language of flowers...I leaned the Flower of Battle."

The Elder listened and considered Rebecca’s words, even though in the background she could hear Kaynus and Anaxagore verbally sparring back and forth. It warmed her heart to hear the sounds of young ryujin talk of the world and sparring. It reminded her for a moment of her school.

She closed her eyes and said to Rebecca. “It seems that the times of the youth having fun has passed you all over. Such heavy talk of glory, blood, and battle. I will teach you how to dance, my dear. If you would allow me. You will dance across the dance floor as beautifully as you can dance across the battlefield!”

Cretaus. Rebecca. Humans.

“How much experience do you have dealing with our kind, Rebecca? What do you think of the ones assembled here?” Esenma inquired.

Rebecca couldn't help the snarl on her face. She had not interest in learning how to dance, how to have fun. She was a warrior, one driven forward by her need for combat and only really, really felt alive when she was facing death.

"Do you mean Elf or Dragon? I've worked with a few Elven Archers in my time, and I've never been with Ryujin, only ever heard stories."

“Ryujin, dear.” Esenma clarified. “Stories... what kind of stories? Do we live up to them?” The grin on her face was large and playful.

"That you ended wars with a single glance, that it would take ten armies to defeat a single one of you, and that one day you all would conquer the world and subjugate the rest of us under your massive talons." She said nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders. "You live up to some, remains to be seen if you will make us normal folk your slaves. Seems you're not quiet united yet...likely what keeps you from controlling the world."

“Oh really now?” Esenma giggled. “Hmm... lets see... we’ve definitely stopped a few wars but started others. Ten armies... nothing so ridiculous though.... that one.”

She pointed in Zalzabar’s direction.

“Regnum has scarcely in its history seen one as powerful as he was in his prime. He is the kind that the legends were written about. Ten armies... twenty even...” She did not finish the sentence.

“As far as subjugating, there are certainly some that wish that but when there are ones like that, there are ones like those-“ she nodded towards Anaxagore “- that will stand in their way.” She brought her thumb her chin, contemplating. “Though there is one that could unite us all... Sapientis.”

"Oh goodie, we have to rely on the good dragons to stop the bad ones..." Rebecca retorted, "What happens when there are no good ones left?" Her eyes wandered to Zalzabar lingering on his pack, on the orb contained inside. That was what happened.

"United with him or against him?" She asked.

“Well it’s better than relying on the availability of a sellsword.” Esenma joked back.

“With... Against... I suppose we don’t know. We would not have much of a say in the matter if he does return. We would be under him, all of us, until he decided to end the realm itself.”

“The goal of this is to prevent him from returning. Not stopping him. That would mean we failed. But you don’t really care about that now, Rebecca Dragon? You’re just here as long as the coin is right... or so you would have everyone believe?”

Esenma gripped the young woman’s hand tighter and beamed a smile. She knew the woman was growing attached to their little band.

"Coin that I have yet to see any sign of." Rebecca replied her features darkening a little. The older woman gripped her hand a show of affection which the warrior did not return. She didn't exactly know what to feel. She's only been with this group for a day maybe less, she's been in battles longer than she's known these people. They seemed skilled if nothing else. Did that mean she cared for them, or did she just go back to keeping distance. If their benefactor was to be believed they were going to be together for awhile.

With a slight eye roll she did another scan of the area.

“What do you do with the coin you earn anyway?”

"Pay for travel to the next battle, pay for inns, pay for food, been from one side of Regnum to the other. It's expensive to travel."

I guess she can’t fly so she would have to pay to go from place to place... Esenma thought quietly. It had been over 200 years since she had to pay for a place to stay or even entertain the idea of paying for travel. Rebecca lived such a bare life which was in stark contrast to Esenma, an elder that thought she had been so in touch with the world.

Her legs lost strength and she played it off by leaning heavily on Rebecca. Hopefully the young woman wouldn’t notice, though Esenma was not ashamed of her condition; the others just did not need to know yet. Releasing Rebecca’s hand, Esenma fumbled in her bag until she pulled out a pouch of liquid.

She sipped on it and a warm smile glazed over her face. She offered it to Rebecca... “we should toast!”

Rebecca's eyebrow raised just a little as Esenma leaned on her hard. Did she stumble, lose her footing on a patch of ice? The warrior was left to question what was going on as the elf dug through her back and found a waterskin. Slowly with a little confusion Rebecca pulled up her own waterskin and tapped it against the other woman's.

"What we toasting to?"

“Celebrating your first date! You’re taking me on a long walk, holding my hand, telling me about yourself... Something is telling me you’re growing sweet on me, Rebecca.” The immediately drunken Esenma chuckled and clapped her hands excitedly. She took another sip and slapped her waterskin against Rebecca’s.

Rebecca shook her head taking another gulp from her waterskin. She was an odd person, but they were stuck together, at least for now.

TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas @Shadowsun Anyone Else

 

IC: Ne'tar and Delsana on the Path - A Combo with Ktala!

There was some going on with other elf, Ne'tar no mind. Ne'tar had duty right here. Support her in going who had moved them all so. Zalzabar state where they go and Ne'tar feel bad they go this way, why Ne'tar not sure, but. . ."Ne'tar sorry for village." Ne'tar state with heavy sigh and sad eyes as they walked on. "We like warparty lost battle, they get caught by what chases us."

Delsanra was tired, but not too tired that she didnt catch what Ne'tar had stated. True, as they began to march Zalzabar informed them all of a little sleepy mountain village that was not too far from where they were and that was where they were headed, it would take several hours though to get there. Delsanra found Ne'tar's comment very ... insightful. Nothing that she would expect him to say. She looked up at Ne'tar.

"I .. I had not thought of that. But then again, I just hope that the village is still there." she added softly. "If those crimson knights had been looking for us for awhile, they might have gone there first." she stated softly, adding a sigh of her own. Delsanra looked around, as they walked. Delsanra offered Ne'tar a small smile. "Then, what do you think we shoudl do, Ne'tar?" she asked him, curious of his opinion.

Ne'tar rub face at question, Ne'tar have to work to put thoughts into words. She smile at Ne'tar though, make Ne'tar want to use good words. "Don't stop." Ne'tar stated, wait. . .Ne'tar need better words than that! Ne'tar know Ne'tar know better words. "Pass through edges town, buy provisions keep walking. If no place town then like Ne'tar village. Most not good for raiding, but most hunt. Hope we leave them not worth effort for fight by our chasers."

Delsanra looked ahead, as she listed to Ne'tar's words, mulling them over. Ne'tar, being the 'youngest' of the ryujin, she was discovering was more of a surprise. Here was a being, who many snubbed, for the simple fact of what he was, never bothering to learn WHO he was. He was willing to become more than what he was. And unlike 'his majesty', who carried only for himself and his glory, looked to avoid pain to those who were not involved. That and the fact that he was the first to offer assistance spoke volumes of his character. Especially when Orc's and Elves were not necessarily the best of friends. Tallea's reactions to him was rather prominent to mind. Only because Delsanra had seen, if not met Orc's before, left her with no opinion of them different to others races. All produced monsters. They had just seen that in the crimson knights. She frowned slightly. Just imaginating that group within a village would be an ugly picture. But. If mountain towns were like her old sentinal, mountain cities that were out in the wilderness tended to be well guarded. A village however, would not stand a chance. Ne'tar's words made sense.

Delsanra looked back at Ne'tar. She knew that she had led a rather sheltered life, until recently. But Ne'tar seems to have more experience in those matters. He spoke of war parties. Delsanra was silent for a little bit as they walked, her mind mulling over what Ne'tar had stated.

"I think we should ask Zalzabar what his plan is. Right now, we dont know where we are heading. And those crimson knights are not that far behind us. Stopping would be very bad. At least, not until we get some good distance between us," she added.

Ne'tar sniffed the cold hard in a hard snuff at that. The cold did odd things to his nose, it was dry like the desert but felt as though it was trying to dry into him where the desert tried to dry out. Ne'tar not sure how better explain it, but it was feeling as cold held back by totem. Ne'tar wipe free hand on clothes and readjust back-bag. Back-pack? Whatever.

Ne'tar take moment to pat Delsanra arm as they walk on, with clean hand. "Yes. Ask when town stink or smoke is seen. All need moment. Even you, one of many names, your name be long in my Mother tongue. Maybe Father tongue as well. . .Ne'tar no know that though." Ne'tar had looked with smile at first on her, but at the last speak - Ne'tar gaze go soft, look off into blinding white neither near nor far. Ne'tar troubled by old thing, always thing. Everything keep coming back, keep coming Ne'tar.

Sometimes it took a bit to understand Ne'tar, but she understood the general gist of his words. She chuckled softly to herself when he patted her arm. One of many names, hmmmm? She kind of liked that. But then she noticed the smile he held faded slowly as he looked off, away from her. The mention of his parents?

Delsanra looked out into the snowy area around them. She always loved the snow. She spoke very softly now, as they walked. "I understand. At least you knew your parents. I have no memories of mine." she said "Except for the voice of my mother. Singing." Delsanra gave a soft smile. She grew silent, only her hand on his arm tightened just slightly.

Needed movement? Oh how this would have been easier if Delsanra was alone. She could move quickly if not tired. She could call for some help, if needed. But this passage was a bit rugged. And then the party members. She frowned at that thought. But, there had to be some caverns or other places they could seek shelter, if need be. Delsanra looked at Ensema. She wondered if she could generate some sort of storm between them and the Crimson Knights. Slow them down, and hide their tracks? But then she blew out a stream of air. No. Not while the Taella was still gone. They could do nothing but keep moving until she caught up with them. Speaking of which, she was sure it had nothing to do with underwear. The bird maybe? Couldnt she call it? Maybe. Maybe not. Delsanra didnt want to think ill will of any of their group just yet. So she stayed silent, as she left her eyes scan the comforting scene around them, keeping her aura suppressed, as they walked. At least they had eaten well. That would hold for now.

Ne'tar look on Delsanra with sad eyes, squeezing her arm back at mention that she no know parents. "Ne'tar only know mother, but always fear Ne'tar start forget her somehow. But Ne'tar always Mother near when Ne'tar hunt, when Ne'tar cook - Mother there. Delsanra Mother always in song, Delsanra lucky in that. Many Orc barely know parents, common problem war parties no end well." Ne'tar looked away from her, back at snow she seem stair at fondly.

So much look at and little see, like desert at night and high sun. Ne'tar still not like though. "Ne'tar not know even what Father was, but Ne'tar wonder. After mother die part why Ne'tar left Xan, Ne'tar silly hope Ne'tar find man warrior who make love to Orc woman by oasis. Ne'tar not know elf, human, dwarf, faerie, Ne'tar have no clue so Ne'tar try learn of, learn what Tar of Ne'tar come from."

Delsanra could only marvel, as she walked alongside Ne'tar. His daddy was one brave man. She finally understood the naming bit now. Ryujin maybe? Interesting thought. She slowly nodded, deep in thought. After a few moments she spoke. "I've been told what my parents were. But little else. No names." She looked at Ne'tar and gave a slight grin. "But there are some shamen who can tell you that much." Delsanara shrugged her shoulders, looking away again. "But, I believe some things will become clearer once you are ready for the truth." She shrugged her shoulderse again. "But, it's not a silly hope. Everyone wants to know from those they came from. Good or bad."

Delsanra shook her head. "You wont forget your Mother. She taught you well. Or you would not have made it here. And who knows. You might get your wish." She sighed softly. How would she define herself? Abandonded? No. She was taken to the 'tower' A great honor, she was told. Given to the temple, so that she could develop her abilities fully. But, there was something else. She had heard her parents were on the run. Never told why. They just wanted her to have a better life than theirs. But she didnt think it was for something illegal. Not the way the folks who raised her talked about them. Delsanra gripped her staff tighter. This talk was making her think of things she was not wanting to dwell on. Delsanra grew quiet once more as they worked.

Ne'tar grunt at Delsanra words. Shaman's and names. Too much coin for someone to say a name, Ne'tar no way know true or not. "Name cheep, truth hard." Ne'tar no know what say about her no know. Ne'tar no know where she come, or where she go. Just she powerful, and she strong in self. Ne'tar had no other words, let walk go on quiet if she want. Long day.

TAG: @Shadowsun

 

OOC: Mega combo with @The Jedi in the Pumas and @Kurisan, a very special thanks to them both, was very enjoyable making this.

The Wood Elf Returns
​

The party had been traveling for quite some time, at least a few hours, Zalzabar remained at the front, Dominus sliding up beside him, his eye casting to Rebecca and Esenma for a moment, before reaching his Lord.

"Lord Zalzabar, what are we to do, getting all three dragon-god artifacts were going to be a near-impossible task, to begin with, but with the Crimson Knights..." he trailed off the snow elf's skin laid bare against the cold winds. Zalzabar stayed silent for several moments before speaking to Dominus.

"For now we make our way to Othos, once we are there we can strategize a better plan." The elder ryujin seemed grim, focused not the bubbly persona he usually carried with him.

"Yes my Lord I understand that, but do you really intend to keep all the ones here, the boy, Rebecca, Taella, what use are they without draconic blood flowing through their veins?"

Zalzabar's nostrils flared for a moment as he half turned to Dominus.

"You forget your place, Dominus, you yourself past them through your trial, along with your brothers, if you did not want them to join you should have done then and there."

Dominus eyes pleaded with Zalzabar as he spoke.

"But sir, the situation has changed drastically..."

"That's enough Dominus, you know full well the capabilities of non-ryujin, draconic blood is not the only path to great power"

The Knight of Power bent his head in defeat, nodding to Zalzabar and mumbling a 'yes sir'. At that moment Zalzabar motioned for the party to stop, wheeling round, it was none other than Taella, darting towards them. Zalzabar speeded over to her, wondering what had befallen her.

Taella found the party; she knew their general direction of travel before she had parted. Their passing whispered in the trees to her, and she had spotted them from a high peak. She shook her head. It was quite probable the Crimson Knights would have found them... but then she knew the Crimson Knights were no longer looking for them.

She tracked them for a short time, opening her senses to the surroundings, making sure no others were around - especially not that dark sorcerer that had restrained her. She shook her head again. She herself had been found and temporarily captured, so she was not one to cast scorn!

She saw Zalzabar leading the party and even from a distance could sense his mood. She bit her lip, hoping Esenma had made a good enough excuse for her absence.

Oh well, no point putting this off any longer. Time for me to face the consequences, she decided.

She caught sight of Anaxagore and her heart jolted a little at seeing the gorgeous Dragonkin again. In fact, having witnessed the majestic dragon-form of Kaynus several times now, she was starting to look at him with new feelings stirring, too.

A little voice in her mind yelled at her to get on with her obligation and stop losing concentration. She sighed. Sometimes she hated her conscience.

Taella dashed out from the concealing rocks and skipped toward Zalzabar. He saw her immediately and began to head directly for her. She quailed a little, fearing his wrath.

They came face to face. The young Wood Elf fell to her knees and bowed her head to the ground.

"Please forgive me, My Lord, I had need of an errand!"

Zalzabar stood tall over the wood elf, his face grim, and filled with annoyance. What was that aura about her? No, what was he doing mixed up in all of this, he had not felt that power in over one hundred and fifty years. He turned to Esenma, the look in her eyes confirmed what he feared.

"Taella..." he spoke calmly, almost hesitating on what he was about to say. "...did you meet Derius Ralinommu?"

Taella's cheeks burned with shame. The one thing she could do, the one skill she offered to the Dragonlord... she had failed at.

"I am sorry!" she cried, staring at the ground. "He caught me, somehow..."

She looked up, finally, eyes glistening. "He was a dark sorcerer... so much power... he defeated the Crimson Knights! He bested even their dragon forms with his magic. The mountains shook with the battle, but only he was left standing."

She shifted on her knees. "Then he came after me - held me with his spells. He said to tell you something; whatever resistance you were expecting, to expect more." a few moments' pause. "But he set me free... I think he wanted you to know he is coming. But I swear he did not follow me! I would not lead him to you."

She fell silent then, awaiting Zalzabar's judgment.

---

A while previous...



The two large dragons descended over the mountainside, their anger visible in their coursing veins at the sight of the two different groups teleporting away. Their nostrils flared with smoke as they slowly shifted back into their human form. The third caught up with them both his tall, muscular frame hanging over the two of them. Roger turned to Elizabeth his eyes cast down in anger toward her.

"Where did they go? he grunted, strapping his comically large sword on his back.

"I don't know, I thought I killed the teleporter, one of those runts must be an illusion mage"

The three of them continued to anger, strategizing their next course of action, unbeknownst to them all off beside a mountain ridge Derius had descended having tracked down the group after finding the ruins of Zalzabar's castle. Being the skilled mage that he was his magical aura would be sealed off to them, his presence a secret until he chose to reveal it.

It occurred to Derius, as he scanned the peaks of the frosty mountains, to go to his mother. How... foreign. A desire to see her long had been absent from his mind and heart. Yet, here he was, the Magelord, wondering how she was and what she smelled like. How sweet, yet annoying, her voice sounded to his ears and the strength of the aura of her presence washing over him in person. This occurrence of nostalgic thought only sat less than a few seconds with him and did not distract his eyes from his current targets.

Three of the Crimson Knights.

They were the reason Zalzabar’s castle was destroyed. They had attacked and Esenma had defended their group. He sensed the remnants of Exalos in the atmosphere even before he descended to the mountains. At this stage of her life, still able to summon Exalos; it was impressive and he expected nothing less from his mother. Zalzabar’s group had recently teleported. He could sense that as well but it was clear that the Crimson Knights could not or else they would know where the group had resurfaced. There.

Yes.

A sliver of a second; one of the adepts that traveled with Zalzabar. However, that was not why he was here.

Elizabeth. Of the Crimson Knights. An adept ryujin and fire mage, though it was her teleportation magic that had drawn Derius here. Teleportation was uncommon and teleportation magic as gifted as hers was rarer still. He would need to study it and for that to happen, he would need to capture her. She would not go willingly, nor would Roger the Red allow her to. He would need to be careful.

Elizabeth’s fire magic and her ryujin form... Even with her teleportation magic, she would require the least of his attention. Derius held open his right hand.

“Mol Crum Ah Riise.” He spoke softly as a black, bubbling mass of smoke appeared in his hand.

Sonus the Sound Ryujin was formidable but his sound magic was at a disadvantage against an accomplished Wind Mage.

“Vol Brum.” From a clenched fist, a cloak of disrupting wind surrounded Derius. A cloak made of devastating winds that was unseen by the eye and deadly to the touch. He doubted Sonus’ sound blasts, at the ryujin’s current level, could disrupt the cloak. He also doubted that Sonus would have the chance to land an attack on him.

A small twinkle in his eye as he allowed his dense, dark aura and intentions to flow towards the Crimson Knights. The Knights would feel it wash over them. He wanted them to know that he was here. As Roger the Red turned his head towards the Dark Elf, Derius began to hum in a low tone. Roger was the biggest threat. There was an old saying: Mages ruled one half of Regnum and Warriors ruled the other. Roger was a fearsome warrior that could tear through Derius’ cloak and close combat would be hazardous with the brute. He was too strong of a specimen, too important an asset in Malum’s army for Derius to kill, so this made him the wild card in this engagement.

Actually, capturing any of Crimson Knights without killing the others multiplied the difficulty of the engagement ten-fold.

But Derius would capture Elizabeth and take her back. They knew it as well as he did.

The two adept ryujin turned in the direction Derius was 'hiding', Roger, the least magically capable of the three, turned to see what they were looking at. The three of them had never met Derius so they would not know it was his aura, although they would recognize him the moment they saw his face.

"Who is it Sonus?" spoke Roger softly, his demeanor switching from the arguing just a moment ago back to Commander of the Crimson Knights.

Although his face was covered by his red helmet Roger could tell Sonus was confused before he even spoke.

"I'm not sure, it isn't any of the ones we saw at Zalzabar's, and it isn't a ryujin, but he is strong, impossibly strong for a non-ryujin." Sonus, who for his whole life had been raised in the belief in the supremacy of the Ryujin, of their right to rule all of Regnum, he could fathom that a being could produce such an aura. Not that it mattered, they were the Crimson Knights, the most feared warriors to exist, surely they could handle one non-ryujin mage.

"We should fall back, get all six knights, then continue our pursuit."

The fire witch's eyes flared up, the fire brimming brightly in her eye sockets. She had grown restless as the caution Sonus always had toward everything.

"Come on out, show yourself or I'll blast that rock your hiding behind!"

Derius’ hum came to a stop and he stepped into view of the Knights. The gap that separated them was wide but not an issue for beings of their skill. They could hear him as he spoke with the bubbling mass starting to make sounds similar to a boiling pot of stew.

“Malum Dragonson...inform him that I will be taking Lady Elizabeth as my guest to Taetus.”

He spoke directly to Roger the Red, ignoring his actual target completely. It mattered not what she said in return. It only mattered that Roger give Malum the message. The Dragonson would not take this lightly and Derius doubted that he would care what became of Elizabeth; He would, however, wonder why Derius had chosen Elizabeth. The very thought gave Derius anxiety.

“Resist. I know you have to.”

The three of them glanced at each other, all-knowing silently who this man was. Derius Ralinommu, the Witchking of the North, son of Esenma. Roger's eyes narrowed as to what he said next.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, don't you know the mission we are on? How vital it is to Lord Dragonson's plans?" Elizabeth did not take kindly to the supposed guest proposal that Derius put forth. It was clear from his tone and the words he used the Malum Dragonson had not authorized this deal. The Fire Witch's body flared inflame, her armor covered in a thick fire cloak.

"We gonna kill this guy boss?" she spat out, glancing over to Roger who did not meet her gaze.

"Perhaps it was a mistake of our Master to allow himself to work with such a pretentious non-ryujin such as yourself." Roger paused, his hand reaching behind his back to grab his sword.

"Best your learned your place in the world, Derius Ralinommu"

With that final word, Roger darted closing the gap in mere moments, his sword came crashing down directly overhead where Derius was standing, although doubtless, he had time to dodge or deflect the strike.

On his left came Elizabeth, herself not getting too close to the mage but firing off a series of fiery blasts, each about the size of a fist. Lastly on his right Sonus would let off a series of sound shrieks emitting from his outstretched fingers, the sound resonating harshly through the air.

Dodging just one of these attacks would be a simple matter for Derius, but all three, well it would certainly be a challenge.

“Mol Crum... Ex Pans.”



The smoky mass in Derius’ right hand expanded to encompass Derius and the Crimson Knights. Derius kicked off the ground, dodging to his right towards Sonus, avoiding Roger’s crushing downward slash; His back to Sonus as he kept his eyes on Elizabeth and Roger. Sonus’ sound blasts batted against the back of Derius’ cloak, harmless. Elizabeth’s fire was extinguished, to her surprise, including her cloak. The culprit was the smoke inside of Mol Crum.

The smoke was thick, but breathable. It made the Knights feel immediately sluggish and heavy, as if wading through a pool of water. It laid on them. It weighed on them. And though a physical Goliath like Roger would barely be affected, Elizabeth would feel especially weakened and her fire attacks, at this level, would be suffocated.

This was Derius’ smoke magic. Unique to him and progressed to a level, through decades of combat with his brother and other ryujins, that made it lethal to ryujins. On the outside, it would weigh on beings and slow them down, but when inhaled had enormously devastating effects.

He was not here to kill them, however, so the sphere of Mol Crum rescinded back to his hand. The first coating of smoke should slow the Fire Witch and Sonus down enough. Derius turned and attempted to slam the palmed Mol Crum into Sonus’ torso. If it made contact, the Crimson Knight would utterly incapacitated.

The Fire Witch and the Sound Dragon coughed violently once the thick smoke enveloped them both, the smog extinguishing Elizabeth's balls of fire, her cloak of fire gone, along with her eyes. She was blind without them she staggered, her empty sockets gazing wildly as she tried desperately to reorientate herself.

Roger breathed in heavily, his massive lungs consuming smoke with little to no problem, his movements dulled only slightly from the smoke. He made a swing back round to Derius, aiming for his neck, to cleave his head from his shoulders. Forcing the mage to dodge.

Sonus, was not as badly affected by the smoke as Elizabeth he could still see once it was gone. He saw, almost as if in slow motion, the swing to his gut from Derius.

"Sound doesn't just travel through the air, Wind Mage" snarled Sonus as he slammed his foot on the ground the vibrations coursing through the rock to summon it up, a wall separating Derius from Sonus, his fist connecting with the stone, unable to react in time to move it out of the way. The Sound Ryujin then staggered back, trying to reorientate himself from the smoke attack.

The rock wall exploded into pieces as Derius made contact with it. It would look as if the Dark Elf was terribly strong, but the impact was a result of his furious wind cloak coming into contact with the wall. Moving with agility custom of his elven heritage, Derius scampered through the crumbling formation and continued towards Sonus. This was also to get away from Roger the Red.

His cheeks swelled with air as he blew multiple air blasts towards Sonus. His mother’s technique. They wouldn’t wound, they would destroy and rip through Sonus armor and skin. Derius leapt to the side to avoid another of Roger’s slashes and stepped several meters away from Sonus and Roger, higher up the mountain, so he could see all three of the Crimson Knights.

“Mol Crum.” The ball of smoke in his hand dissolved away, becoming part of his wind cloak up each of his forearms and giving Derius the appearance of having equipped two smoke gauntlets.

Elizabeth was stumbling and Sonus was on the defensive. Roger would be on him in a moment. Two Hellhounds appeared higher up the crag, patiently waiting for their master’s orders, uninterested in the current fight.

“Retrieve the Fire Witch. Leave Roger and the Sound Ryujin to me.”

Sonus having only just regained his footing and sense of surroundings continued to dance his feet around, coercing slabs of rock from the ground to meet Derius's blasts of air, each one that connected smashed into pieces but was able to dissipate the air. Sonus knew he was outmatched if he used his magic in the air, Derius was a master wind mage and outclassed him in that arena, but with the ground, he might just stand a chance. He was still on the back foot, desperately trying to stop the deadly assault. One blast eventually made it through smashing into Sonus's arm, the wind ripping and tearing the armor, skin, bone, and muscle off, a whirlwind of red metal and blood flowing past the ryujin as he screamed in pain.

Roger's eyes grew red his blood beginning to boil under his skin, he could feel his muscles swell with blood as he charged toward Derius, his speed faster than before. His sword smashing toward Derius with a series of ferocious strikes, each aiming to slay the wind mage, the massive sword, if it came in contact with Derius's wind cloak would be able to slice right through down to the fleshy mage it concealed.

The fire where Elizabeth's eyes should be finally reignited, able to see again she looked up at the two hellhounds bearing down in her direction. The time for fun and games was over, the usually joky fire witch allowed her ryujin blood to flow within her, beginning the transformation into her dragon form, but this was different, she felt weaker, she couldn't transform effortlessly, the effort required made her sweat and tired once she finally transformed.



Once she did she opened her maw, letting out a fiery blast to the two hellhounds. The flame was dimmed and felt half-hearted the effects of the smog still draining on her even in her elevated state.

Derius raised his hands to his face and inhaled the smoke as he continued to dodge Roger’s attacks. Blood rage... rare in humans and somehow was more powerful in humans due to the quality of humans that could withstand the rage without perishing. He would be a fine specimen to research as well. But one would do.

The hellhounds dashed down the mountain to Elizabeth. They would have been too fast for her even without her inhalation of Derius’ smog. She felt sluggish and though he newly ignited eyes could track them, she stood no chance at reacting. They were less than half the size of her ryujin form yet one hellhound leapt towards her, bit into her throat, and dragged the ryujin’s head to the ground. The other attacked her underbelly, clawing and biting into the flesh, obsessed with the desire to fulfill it’s master’s demand. The first hellhound clasped tight to her throat, crushing her windpipe and squeezing. It would squeeze until Elizabeth was no longer conscious, no matter the damage it accrued or the pain it endured.

Roger’s attacks grew in speed. Derius spun away from a horizontal slash and held out a hand towards Roger, smoke billowed forth like an eruption from a volcano, encompassing the entire body of the leader of the Crimson Knights, up to his neck. With his other hand, smoke began to drip and grow inexplicably as it began to expand and roll down the entire mountaintop. An avalanche of dark smoke magic.

“Mol Crum Alu... Ex pans.”

This smoke was thicker than before. And while this sludge-like smog expanded and rolled down the mountain, all borne from the hand of Derius, he continued his assault of smoke on Roger.

The Fire Dragon writhed around in pain, trying to claw the attack hounds away from her. With the hellhound gripping her through as tightly as it was, coupled with the drowsy feeling from the smoke she could not produce any flame from her maw. Instead, pitiful puffs of smoke escaped.

She flattened her belly, squeezing the hellhound beneath her. A crunch of bone and a welp as she snuffed the life of the helpless beast, the other still tightly wound neck. Her underbelly was still scratched and bruised, now marked with the blood of the unfortunate hellhound. She began to rise up stretching her wings and flying a few feet into the air, spinning and twirling to knock the infernal creature off.

Each movement exerted a great amount of effort, as she felt the wind leave her lungs, her body tired as she fell to the ground, incapacitated from the hounds' attacks.

Sonus moaned in anger as he himself transformed into his dragon form. His left arm still missing, but his ryujin healing factor allowing the stub to heal over in a few moments, the process was still painful.



The Sound Dragon then let out a large piercing screech, a focused vibration beam aimed directly for the remaining hell hound. His attention turning to his fallen comrade.

Roger the Red became engulfed in Derius's smoke, his anger flowing through him, the thick smog slowly his movements for a moment. His frustration grew, as he pushed up with his legs, rising above the gaseous trap, spinning around, and headed straight for the wind mage. He flew the air like a dart, it would almost undoubtedly catch Derius by surprise, his magic built around stopping ryujin as they were almost always the main threat in combat, but Roger was not a ryujin, he was a demon in human form. An engine of destruction that lived for one thing: Death.

He would come crashing down into Derius, miscalculating his trajectory and slicing into Witchking's arm, not cutting it off, but leaving a nasty wound. With his sword still placed in his arm, with his free hand, Roger brought his hand round to smash into Derius's face, the strength of Roger pulsating through him, if his blow landed on any normal man it could cleave his head neatly from his neck, but Derius was no normal man.



The brute was the height of a bloodrage warrior. The sword sliced in Derius’ arm and as the punch came reeling around, Derius leaned into the blade, severing his arm, to avoid the punch. His arm disappeared into the ocean of smoke. He thought for a moment of peppering the man with his oral wind blasts; it would do no good. He possessed no physical spell that could stop the man without killing him. The smoke pouring over the mountain expanded between them, putting distance between them.

Derius waved his sole arm and the severed appendage came to his hand. He threw it down the mountain and turned towards Roger.

“Mol Crum... im prison.”

The smoke mass pulsated. Roger could not feel it but Sonus could: Derius’ aura had expanded. It felt like it covered everything. The smoke mass, which was covering a third of the mountain now was now under his direct whim. It surged backwards up the mountain towards Roger, whips of smog and sludge attaching themselves to the brute to hold him in place as the sludge crept up his body, beginning to lift him high off above the mountain’s ledges.

Derius kept an eye on Roger as a sound blast from Sonus ripped his remaining hellhound into shredded tatters. Elizabeth was down, but their work was not done. Service to the Witchking transcendent even death. He spoke softly.

“Rise again.”

The yellow eyes of Derius shined and both his hellhounds rose again. As if nothing had happened, they resumed their assault on Elizabeth. She was incapacitated but not near death; her ryujin healing could take effect. They were to remedy that as they returned to tearing into her dragon body, biting at her organs, and ripping off her wings.



Before Sonus could ready another attack, Derius severed arm rose from the depths of the mountain with a hand full of black smoky mass that Derius began the battle with. It flew towards him, tracking him and Sonus could tell by how the black mass was overtaking Roger the Red that if it made contact he would not be able to escape.

The Witchking was allowing himself to enjoy the fight now. He had fought more ryujins and stronger ryujins before. That wasn’t why he was enjoying the fight. He was enjoying it because he knew that he had an audience. It was only right that he perform.

The hellhounds ripped away into the beast, Elizabeth's wings torn off in a matter of moments, she awoke to the attack on her body, although there was little that she could do, her body was too weak from the magic and the brutalization of her body. Only sad, desperate whelps escaped her body as she laid there, the ryujin mutilated.

Sonus could not believe what he was seeing. Derius was a Wind mage and a Necromancer. This was bad, very bad, they needed to get out of here, victory, slaying him was impossible. If only he could just grab Elizabeth and run, but he couldn't it was too late. He felt Derius's aura grow in size, his magic seemingly endless. Perhaps if they had all six knights the result would have turned out differently, but the three of them were no match for the Witchking of the North. He snarled as he looked toward Derius, the man was toying with them.

The sound dragon allowed his fury to swell within him, tapping into the deep recesses of his will calling it forth, amplifying it to the absolute limit of his capabilities. The Sound Dragon opened its maw, the sound energy building within, the sound resonating through the air as he released it, shrieking across the sky the sound filling the entire mountainside in an ungodly wail. Roger would clasp his ears in response as the smoke engulfed, the ever-thickening smog restricting his movements, the commander's sword clattering to the ground.

The blast of sound would rip through Derius's floating arm, tearing it to shreds as the air vibrated. The heavy vibrations began to shake the ground itself as it filled the space, punching a hole through the smoke that surrounded the wind mage and hurtled directly for him.

With this desperate distraction, Sonus flew over to the hounds batting off Elizabeth, flinging them across the landscape, killing them for the second time, not that death meant much for them. The wounded, weakened, and weary Sonus struggled to lift Elizabeth, who had fallen unconscious again from the pain, off the ground. The two ryujin were about the same size and even if he were at his full strength it would be a struggle for the Sound Dragon to lift her away, but still, he persisted in vain.

The sound blast would not reach Derius as he shifted the ocean of smoke to bring Roger’s incapacitated body to block the attack. The smoke pulled his hands from his ears and he suffered the brunt of the attack, on his body and his eardrums. The injured, beaten massive man was engulfed back into the black mass as the smoke continued to roll up the mountain.

Service to the Witchking transcends even death.

“Rise again.”

His hellhounds made their way back to the mountain peaks and pulled Elizabeth’s body from Sonus’ grasp in a grim tug-of-war display. The Witchking rode the his smoke to the ground in front of Sonus as the ryujin struggled to escape. An appendage of smoke wrapped itself around Sonus’ body and pulled him to the group. The hellhounds continued to assault Elizabeth’s body even after she had fallen silent.

Sonus’ body grew heavy again, like before. Even more so in his ryujin form. He was exhausted from the battle and the smoke might as well have been an anchor on every inch of his body. Roger the Red’s sword rose from the smoke and impaled Sonus through his back, nailing him to the mountain itself.

Derius looked down at the ryujin. He had killed many ryujin in his time. The feeling of usurping their entitled sense of dominance never quite grew old, though he did not revel in it anymore. This was a lesson that Malum’s ryujin hierarchical view of the world had not taught them: Dominance was taken, not given or rewarded.

“Malum Dragonson... inform him that I will be taking Lady Elizabeth as my guest to Taetus.”

“Take her,” Derius commanded.

The hellhounds dragged Elizabeth’s body into the smoke mass and they were gone. The smoke mass hardened at the top of the mountain, with Roger the Red mounted at the peak. The bubbling smoke that had surrounded Derius was no more and he took in the view of the barely conscious Sonus again before he began descending the mountain.

Taella soon found what she was looking for, and placed them where they should be. She also had time for a little bonus discovery upon examining some nearby debris from Zalzabar’s castle. She tucked that away for the moment as the sounds of others approached on the wind.

She scampered across the snowy plain, so lightfooted she left no tracks, and vanished amongst an outcrop of rocks with preternatural skill. There she crouched and watched. Her eyes widened as the hated Crimson Knights descended over the mountainside. She kept well hidden; to break cover now would surely attract their attention. They pawed and sniffed about the site where the snow dome had been, no doubt tasting the lingering scent of magic after the potent teleportation.

Then, someone else. Taella’s keen elven eyes spotted him atop the mountain, spying on the others. A dark figure that radiated menace and power. It seemed the Crimson Knights had a visitor themselves.

Taella’s trepidation grew as the new stranger – a Dark Elf? – summoned powerful magical forces. She could see both parties from her hiding place. The Crimson Knights were still unaware of this new presence, until that spell was cast. Then they sensed the sorcerer quickly enough.

A thrill passed through Taella as the confrontation began. They were going to battle!

And then all hell was unleashed. The red witch erupted with fiery blasts. The sound dragon hammered the stranger with sonic thunderclaps that made Taella clutch her ears. In return the dark stranger conjured a writhing smoky mass that terrified Taella and seemed to engulf the Crimson warriors.

The ground shook beneath her bare feet as the sound dragon next slammed seismic vibrations through the mountains. The fire witch transformed – yet another formidable dragon, with vibrant ruby scales. The dark stranger unleashed massive hounds of hell. Taella shrank back further into the rocks, terror at the sight of these fiendish canines temporarily overcoming her curiosity.

But not for long. Her curiosity was insatiable, and the mighty clash of these titans was too compelling. They ripped each other apart, the magical forces clashing and booming. The smoky mass from the sorcerer expanded and expanded, to cover a size almost of an entire mountain. Primal roars and the thunderclaps of the sonic dragon boomed from within.

Her view was obscured for some time. But when the scene cleared, Taella saw that the dark sorcerer had defeated one of the red dragons and his undying hounds had mutilated and captured another. The Wood Elf did not know what had happened to the Crimson Knight’s leader.

Terror gripped her anew. Now that the battle was over, she felt the urge to flee the scene, lest she were the one next to attract the gaze of this supremely powerful Dark Elf. He had defeated all the Crimson Knights… alone!

At that moment, Gwythen alighted next to her with a squawk. He had been watching the battle from high in the sky. Taella ignored the hawk’s comments as a claw of panic seized her heart.

“Shhh!” she pleaded, beckoning the bird behind the rocks. “He’ll hear you, or see you!”

A wood elf. So far from home that the only reasonable explanation to Derius was that she was a straggler from Zalzabar’s small band. A wood elf, she was out of her element and that was likely the only reason Derius was able to sense her. He quickly surmised she was a scout by trade, given the bow on her back and her ability to hide her presence at such a young age. She was not here to scout him or the Crimson Knights, for Derius doubted that Zalzabar would have sent her back by her lonesome to do either; The Crimson Knights were too powerful for his band, and at any sense of Derius, Zalzabar would have attempted to confront the Witchking himself to protect his group.

As she spoke to her hawk companion, Derius materialized from a smoke cloud around a rock a few meters behind her. She would notice him, for he was not trying to hide. On the contrary, he wanted to have a word with her.

He did not speak at first as he gazed past her towards the macabre scene he’d created with the defeated Sonus and Roger the Red.

“You are far from home, little wood elf.” He began. Derius was missing half his arm, yet no blood dripped from the wound and he seemed unbothered by its absence. His aura was calm, Taella would feel. He did not seem to be intent on harming her.

Taella took a step backward, her eyes widening in horror as the sorcerer appeared from a smoke cloud beside her. The stench of his dark magic filled her nostrils.

Though he was calm, Taella had seen what the sorcerer could do, and panic seized her. She was a creature of instinct, and instinct took over her actions.

She swept an arrow from her quiver - a Jade Lance - pulling her bow with her other hand in a practiced, fluid movement. In an eyeblink, she had drawn the bow and let the missile fly, straight for the stranger's heart.

The Jade Lance hit home, directly at Derius' heart. The Witchking looked down at the arrow as it continued to push against his wind cloak. The cloak extended to the arrow and it split in half, the Jade Lance falling harmlessly to the ground. Derius' eyes returned to the wood elf. His expression did not change and his aura remained calm.

"Ziapoahan magic combined with a hunter's skill...You are well suited as a scout. Are Ziapoahan scouts able to carry messages back to their masters as easily as they are able to kill without hesitation?"

Taella took a step backward, stunned at the utter ease with which the sorcerer had simply disabled her strongest magical arrow mid-flight. She reached for her quiver again, and paused. He was clearly powerful and she did not want to waste more of the precious charmed missiles.

Instead, she pulled out and brandished her dagger, scowling at the dark stranger. With a feral war cry she leapt at him.

Taella felt her momentum disappear. Wind blew over her entire body as she hung in the air, able to move around and look and breathe but unable to fall back to the ground. Derius had extended his wind cloak to her. It was clear that the rabid wood elf would not listen until she was forced to remain still.

“I would like you to take a message to Zalzabar: Inform him that whatever resistance he was expecting, to expect more. To prepare you more. And you, wood elf, use your eyes to protect them. You observed that scuffle. Take back what you have learned about the Crimson Knights.”

Taella fell to the ground as the wind cloak was released.

Taella struggled helplessly against the forces that held her, until the sorcerer finally released her and she fell to the ground.

"I do not serve you! I am not your messenger!" she spat at him.

Then she turned and sprinted away. She knew she had been totally defeated in combat. Her fight instinct had turned to flight...

“Go.”

He watched as she ran off. Zalzabar and Esenma... they would be able to sense his magic on the wood elf and once she retold the story of the battle she witnessed, they would know for sure it was Derius. Zalzabar would be able to connect the lines from there and train the group accordingly, adapting his plans. Good, Derius thought. In the meantime, he had a crimson knight to dissect.

Smoke rose from Derius’ feet and engulfed him in a cloud. A cloud which rose high into the air before turning north, in the direction of Taetus.

---

Back to the Present...

Zalzabar stared at Taella, his hand pressing lightly on her shoulder. His voice was calm, fatherly, devoid of anger, perhaps tinged with disappointment.

"You are very lucky to be alive my dear Taella, but you must promise me to never run off like that again without asking me, not only did you put yourself at risk but you put all of us at risk"

With that, he turned to Dominus, his gaze concerned, he too knew the power Derius commanded. Zalzabar tilted his head, what did Derius want.

Young Cretaus, who was exceedingly glad to see Taella return waddled up to Zalzabar, tugging lightly on his robe.

"Er... who exactly is this Derius guy?"

Zalzabar looked to Esenma, his almost apologetic before looking back down at Cretaus.

"He is the Witchking of the North, King of Taetus, the most powerful non-ryujin mage I have ever come across. I fought him over one hundred and fifty years ago." He paused, his face crestfallen.

"It was only a matter of time before I told you all this, but he... Derius is the reason I can no longer transform into a dragon"

TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas @Kurisan @greyjedi125 @galactic-vagabond422 @Ktala @Mitth_Fisto @Master Vo'Un'Var @Darth_Elu (To observe)

 

Taella
Pathfinder... the other matter
(With GM approval)



Taella knew she had perhaps gotten off lightly with that rebuke from Zalzabar. Had Esenma told him of her reasons? Did he understand? She was too scared to ask. The others were a little cold, too. That was understandable.

Oh, they all hate me! she decided. Even Anaxagore!

She was about to wander on ahead of the group, feeling very sorry for herself, when she remembered the other item she had found amongst the debris from Zalzabar's castle. She had almost forgotten that she had carried it all the way back here.

She skipped back to where the Orc was talking with Delsanra.

She faltered for a moment, not sure how to proceed. She cleared her throat. She had never spoken to him directly before. Should she use his name? Did he... you know... understand words? Or maybe she should just gesture and grunt.

Taella thought he could probably understand words. Yes, he had spoken a few small ones, she was sure.

"I... I found this," she said, reaching into the pack on her hip. "It is yours, I think?"

It had been slightly singed, but she had cleaned it off with snow and dried it, and it was otherwise in good condition.

Taella handed to Ne'tar his lost turban, then turned and scampered away, too embarrassed to speak further.

@Shadowsun @Mitth_Fisto

 

Esenma
-On the Road to Othos

"Derius...My love."

It was instinctual love that caused the thought to slip out of her mouth in a drunken whisper with a slight smile, barely audible. No matter what he has done, no matter how many he hurt, and the lengths he would go to attain what he believed he was deserved, the Witchking was her son and she loved him. As soon as Taella turned from Ne'tar, Esenma reached for the young elf's arm as she passed her, grazing her slightly. That was all that was needed for her to extract Derius' essence and intentions from the magic he had placed on Taella. He had meant the girl no harm, or else she would never have come back alive...or undead for that matter. Hearing that Derius defeated the Crimson Knights despite the fact that Taetus was allied with Haugun made her proud of Derius: He was as conniving and cunning as she had ever been.

The Elder clapped her hands and approached Zalzabar and Dominus. Zalzabar's revelation to the group had come a bit too soon, Esenma thought. They could have progressed further before he revealed that he could no longer enter his dragon form. It was not her call to make and eventually, Delsanra and Anaxagore would have picked up on the fact that the Lightning Elder was not calling upon his form.

She placed a hand on Zalzabar arm and looked at him lovingly with slightly tipsy eyes. "If there's one thing we both know about Derius, Zalzy, is that he does what he wishes when it is in his best interests. If he wanted to interfere with our travels now, he would have. Instead, something else has received his attention and we should take advantage of it. No Crimson Knights, no Witchking, let's get our butts moving, my dear."

Tag: @galactic-vagabond422 @greyjedi125 @Ktala @Mitth_Fisto @Kurisan @Shadowsun @Master Vo'Un'Var @Darth_Elu (for reference)

 

IC: Ne'tar
On the Path - The Party is Whole

Ne'tar watch as scanty elf return, Zalzy have strong presence when question her, she lay self low. Then, then she tell tale of woe. If not for others reaction Ne'tar no sure Ne'tar be believing tale. Still Ne'tar listen. Ne'tar stay by Delsanra, wait see what happen, where she want go and Ne'tar support her.

After long story done, Ne'tar listen and watch as scanty elf came to Ne'tar! Why little clothing elf want talk Ne'tar? She gonna stab Ne'tar? Ne'tar ready, stiff, brace, keep Delsanra safe. Only she no pull knife, or twig. She pull cloth Ne'tar gape at - Ne'tar Turbin! Burnt, worn, but Ne'tars. "Ne'tar's. . . Ne'tar - - -" Ne'tar look up see Ne'tar talk to self, but it elf. Little big ears. "Thank you."

One handed Ne'tar shake it out, look at it with big grin. Do whip spin, roll cloth somewhat in bunch and put in pouch. Ne'tar need take time get new leather strip and both arm put on properly. Ne'tar look forward next rest, Ne'tar have proper cover. Ne'tar head no get burn of sun - and Ne'tar feel Mother closer now, somehow.

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 , @greyjedi125 , @Ktala , @Shadowsun , @Kurisan , @The Jedi in the Pumas , @Master Vo'Un'Var , @Darth_Elu (for reference)

 

Rebecca Dragon
Forward March

Rebecca continued trudging on the Old Woman next to her. Between swigs of water she pulled out her jar of dried peas pouring a few into her hand and popping them into her mouth. It was a habit something to occupy her body as she marched along. With dried peas sitting in her cheek she bent down gathering up some snow and pressing it into her face. A deep shiver ran through her, her jaw shaking a bit, her lungs letting out all her breath in a single gasp. Her too warm skin quickly melted the frozen precipitation leaving trails of pink water running down her face. She scrubbed and wiped with the snow letting it melt and carry away more and more of the dried blood of the cloned snow elf. There would be time later to apply her war paint again, either by the blood of her enemy or the red paint she carried with her.

She regarded the elf walking next to her she seemed in better spirits about a slight almost unnoticed dip. Then Bright Eyes returned telling a story of her travel and escape of the Crimson Knights, though it seemed added by another party, a very powerful party.

The Old Woman said something under her breath but Rebecca couldn't make it out and didn't much care. The Witchking of the North, one of the few people the South Osatians had a slight fear of. Thankfully there was Kathos to the north, the mountains and vicious wildlife acting as a buffer. Some thought the massive army King William was amassing and arming was to ward off any attack coming from Taetus. Though more though it was to sweep south rolling over Seryon, Reshan, and Keshal a stepping stone to conquering the entire continent.

Rebecca just let out a breath, this wasn't going to be easy, at least their two enemies were not working together. That would be next to impossible to overcome. There might come a point in time when the money wouldn't be worth it. But for now she was fine to tag along.

Out of the corner of her eye she witnessed Bright Eyes give Baldy his turban back, before quickly running away. Seemed to be her mode of operation, do something then run away. But it was at the very least amusing to see.

Her heavy feet crushed through the snow, her rosy cheeks and cherry red nose against her pale skin and brilliant hair almost made her look cute.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto @greyjedi125 @Ktala @Shadowsun @Kurisan @The Jedi in the Pumas @Master Vo'Un'Var @Darth_Elu (for reference)

 

Red Means Danger
​

The sadness on Dominus's face would be clear, what would be even more apparent was that he already knew the ailment of the Elder Ryujin. That his Dragon Form, not to mention his Elder Form, was locked off from him, his aura scarred from his battle with Derius one hundred and fifty years ago. He looked to his master, who appeared to be frozen in time, looking downcast into nothingness.

"Lady Esenma is right Sir, best we keep moving if Derius wanted to find us and hunt us down he would have done so already, let us count our blessings from the Three and move on."

Zalzabar gave a solemn nod, saying nothing more as the party moved on. The three adept ryujin, who were the most likely to be shocked by the news of Zalzabar's weakness, had not yet said anything, perhaps for the best.

Their solemn march would contain for several more hours, the daylight hours beginning to recede into night, by the sun's count it was most likely six or so in the evening. In time the pathway would become surrounded by two sides of a mountain, while plenty of room to walk through the confined space would put anyone that liked wide open spaces, ryujin in particular, an uneasy feeling, after all, it would be impossible to transform in such a space without damaging yourself in the process, save for Ne'tar.

After about another half an hour through this valley, those that could sense it would feel the trickling aura of dozens of small creatures. A swift dart of a red, something as Zalzabar motioned for the group to stop.

"Oh great not them"

​

A single yellow goblin hobbled onto a rock peering down at them all screeching what were supposed to be words to travelers.

"You are trespassing on the great King Zikki's territory you must die for this treachery"

It then sniffled for a moment before speaking again, a boney finger pointing to Zalzabar.

"Zalzabar! Zalzabar! You must all be killed!"

Then dozen more goblins popped up their heads the yellow one brandished a staff and letting out a screeching war cry.

​

Their skin was not fleshy and weak but hardened as if their skin was armor itself and they were bright yellow or ed, a stark contrast to their supposed Orc cousins that lay to the South.

On either side of the group on the ridges that surrounded them, more goblins popped up, as if from nowhere, great balls of hot rock hurtling Zalzabar's troupe, the Goblins working their dark magic.

​

Not far in front of them, two smaller goblins sat, wielding what appeared to be swords of ice. One took sight of Taella and gave another loud audible screech.

"Wood Elf!"

​

It then pointed its ice spear-sword toward her, great jets of fire baring down to roast her in flame, although the nimble wood elf would be able to dodge these with ease. Dozens of more goblins would come charging and screaming at them all, brandishing makeshift weapons of stone, ice, and bone, others wielded no weapon at tall, their claws and teeth able to do more than enough damage.

​

Zalzabar let out a torrent of electric energy, zapping the goblins that came in the front, their bodies buzzing comically before going limp, only for dozens more to take their place. Dominus lept up, off to deal with the goblins firing the hot rocks down onto them, although his path was blocked with swarming goblins that he ripped through with his bear hands, the endless supply only piling on. Zalzabar half-turned to Esenma.

"Esenma protect the boy!"

It would take them all to defeat the swarming goblins, it was do or die.

TAG: @Ktala @greyjedi125 @Master Vo'Un'Var @galactic-vagabond422 @The Jedi in the Pumas @Kurisan @Mitth_Fisto @Darth_Elu (To observe)

OOC: As these goblins are quite weak you are more than free to write that you slay in accordance with your current level of power, everything except little Cretaus will be able to kill these guys. This temporary semi-lift of the Godmod rule may not extend to the next update for... reasons. If you are unsure or would prefer to do a mini combo feel free to PM me.

 

PT 2 of our combo, with @Master Vo'Un'Var

*******************************************

IC: Anaxagore & Kaynus
The Journey continues…

“Then you have a deal, we shall spar…and by the way, the name is Anaxagore.”

The dark haired ryujin warrior informed his traveling companion, his good mood still intact.

“Funny thing….” He put in after a beat.

“You say you wish to rule over Regnum and I wish to protect it. However….”

Here he paused, making sure he had Kaynus’ attention.

“You need to know what you are ruling and care for the land and its people. I have travelled these lands, I have met low born and high born alike, I have laughed, cried, learned, fought, feasted and fasted….but what’s motivated me the most?”

Anaxagore didn’t let Kaynus get in a ‘smart answer’ as he knew the Royal ryujin would be tempted to do so.

“I have learned to love Regnum and everything about it, and everyone who is willing to live and let live.”

Anaxagore’s smile slowly faded, as a shadow flicked in the warrior’s gaze.

“Woe to anyone who would dare to bring harm to the people of Regnum. By The Three! they would know ‘A Day of Wrath’. On that day, when they are held accountable for their evil, they would know only bitter regret.”

The young warrior paused, a rueful expression now etched his youthful features as thoughts of their last battle echoed inside his mind.

“So yeah….” He said, dismissing such dark thoughts and recalling his trademark chuckle.

Kaynus scowled. The people of Regnum would learn to love him or they would suffer the consequences. He kept this to himself, and dismissed the question with a wave.

"Don't lecture me, Andoodlegore, or whatever you said your name was." He hissed, before scratching his chin.

"Tell me, what made you have such a pathetic love for all creatures great and small?" Kaynus asked with a sneer.

Anaxagore shook his head at this ryujin beside him, for if he continued on his present path, his story would not end well. Anaxagore had seen the end of many who thought like Kaynus time and time again; some of them personally.

"I'll humor you...." He finally managed to say.

"From what I can tell so far, you have had no contact with anyone outside of a few beings. You know nothing and no one, except for what you have been told....and never once did you question it, never once where you curious to experience something else outside of your comfort zone because you couldn't be bothered; and yet...you expect fealty? For what exactly? for simply breathing?"

Anaxagore chuckled.

"Seriously, have you met no one else in the entirety of Regnum? Made no friends? no mentors? Known no love? known no loss? then frankly, you have not lived."

In that moment, the warrior appraised the noble ryujin, and understood that the noble was stuck in a dream.

"Wake up Kaynus. What will you be remembered for? No one knows you. You have left no mark. Not one of a hero or a villain."

The warrior let that hang between them for a moment.

“Rebecca has made a name for herself. Lord Zalzabar has made a name for himself. Lady Esenma has made a name for herself. The same is true of Delsanra and myself. Certainly Taella and Ne'tar have too, even Cretaus is known in his place of origin...."

Anaxagore would have said more, but his sharp senses picked up Taella's approach. At a mere glance, he could already tell just by looking at her body language and expression, that something terrible had likely happened. She was shaken. Badly. Before he could react however, the wood elf was already kneeling before Lord Zalzabar, begging his forgiveness.

Kaynus remained silent. This advice if one could call it such was infuriating.

I will make a name for myself... Called King!

Kaynus watched Taella and Zalzabar's interaction. Derius? And what was this? Zalzabar could not transform into a ryujin! Disgraceful!!!

"Hah, isn't that pathetic, Anzacksagore?"

Anaxagore turned slightly and regarded Kaynus as if he'd seen him for the very first time.

"Oh, wow......I just realized......I'm so sorry......" he said with an obvious mocking tone.

"You are severely brained damaged. That's just...terrible." His face was 'pretend-sad' long enough for Kaynus to see it.

"In essence you are useless to either Zalzabar or Sapientis. Guess that's the silver lining then."

There was a seeming finality to the warrior's words.

"Excuse me your Highness, while I go help those who truly need it."

Without another word, Anaxagore moved on to see how he could assist Lord Zalzabar and Taella.

His thoughts were filled with a single terrible truth: Lord Zalzabar! Not being able to transform into Dragonform!?? Anaxagore couldn't, wouldn't believe it. For him, that was a fate worse than death. If this could happen to one ryujin......

No. That cannot be. Derius must be made to pay.

Despite his intentions to help, a sudden sound would catch Anaxagore's attention, and then he would see them- a moment too late.

Goblins!

********​

Tag: @Shadowsun, @Ktala, @Mitth_Fisto, @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Kurisan, @galactic-vagabond422

 

Delsanra Taenya Helestina
A little cardio to keep us warm...

Delsanra didnt know what to think. First, the wood elf makes it back, and from the sound of things, it seems as if she encountered someone more worrysome than the Crimson Knights. The look on Zalzabar's face spoke volumes. The name, Derius Ralimommu, she did not know, but the words that whispered from Esenma's lip gave pause. Taella story was truly beyond words.

"He was a dark sorcerer... so much power... he defeated the Crimson Knights! He bested even their dragon forms with his magic. The mountains shook with the battle, but only he was left standing."

A dark sorcerer?! Not good. That Taella made it back alive, was only because he wished it. Her next words confirmed that thought.

"Then he came after me - held me with his spells. He said to tell you something; whatever resistance you were expecting, to expect more." a few moments' pause. "But he set me free... I think he wanted you to know he is coming. But I swear he did not follow me! I would not lead him to you."

At least for the moment, he seemed more intereested in the crimson knights. But for how long? And who was he? When Cretaus asked who he was, the answer nearly rocked Delsanra.

"He is the Witchking of the North, King of Taetus, the most powerful non-ryujin mage I have ever come across. I fought him over one hundred and fifty years ago." He paused, his face crestfallen.

"It was only a matter of time before I told you all this, but he... Derius is the reason I can no longer transform into a dragon."

The sadness on Dominus's face would be clear he spoke the truth. Only years of training kept the look of shock from her face. She had never heard of a Ryujin being locked into a form, unable to switch. And was Derius one of Esenma's children? Dominus voice piped up then. "Lady Esenma is right Sir, best we keep moving if Derius wanted to find us and hunt us down he would have done so already, let us count our blessings from the Three and move on."

The group walked in silence. Taella came towards Delsanra and Ne'tar. Delsanra gave a nod of her head and offered a small smile. The wood elf definatelly had the blessings of the three. She hoped it would stick with her.

"I... I found this," she said, reaching into the pack on her hip. "It is yours, I think?" Taella handed to Ne'tar his lost turban, then turned and scampered away, too embarrassed to speak further. Delsanra marveled at the young girl. Even with all that had happened, she had demonstrated some kindness to the orc.

"Ne'tar's. . . Ne'tar - - -"

He looked in the direction Taella had scampered off in. "Thank you." he finished. Delsanra stayed silent, as she watched him revently fold and place the worn turban carefully in his gear.

In time the pathway would become surrounded by two sides of a mountain, while plenty of room to walk through the confined space would make it difficult to change shape. A very good choke spot. A very sobering thought indeed.

After what felt like many hours, it became apparent that there was something near them. An aura of many creatures around them. The ring on her hand tingled gently. A swift dart of a red, something as Zalzabar motioned for the group to stop.

"Oh great not them."

Delsanra looked up to where Zalzabar was looking towards.

A single yellow goblin hobbled onto a rock peering down at them all screeching at them.

"You are trespassing on the great King Zikki's territory you must die for this treachery"

It then sniffled for a moment before speaking again, a boney finger pointing to Zalzabar.

"Zalzabar! Zalzabar! You must all be killed!"

Then dozen more goblins popped up their heads the yellow one brandished a staff and letting out a screeching war cry. Obvious, no love lost for Zalzabar. And who was King Zikki? Questions for later. Delsanra noted off hand that she had never seen yellow goblins before.

On either side of the group on the ridges that surrounded them, more goblins popped up, as if from nowhere, great balls of hot rock hurtling Zalzabar's troupe, the Goblins working their dark magic.
Not far in front of them, two smaller goblins sat, wielding what appeared to be swords of ice. One took sight of Taella and gave another loud audible screech.

"Wood Elf!"

It then pointed its ice spear-sword toward her, great jets of fire baring down to roast her in flame, although the nimble wood elf would be able to dodge these with ease. Dozens of more goblins would come charging and screaming at them all, brandishing makeshift weapons of stone, ice, and bone, others wielded no weapon at tall, their claws and teeth able to do more than enough damage.

There was no thought as to whether to fight of not. Zalzabar let out a torrent of electric energy, zapping the goblins that came in the front, their bodies buzzing comically before going limp, only for dozens more to take their place. Dominus lept up, off to deal with the goblins firing the hot rocks down onto them, although his path was blocked with swarming goblins that he ripped through with his bare hands, the endless supply only piling on. Zalzabar half-turned to Esenma.

"Esenma protect the boy!"

Delsanra knew she needed to be careful. Fighting as a team was an art. She did not want to endanger others, by putting something that could impeed other party members.

Delsanra turned towards the opposite side that Dominus had lept from, and whispered.

"marfedelom xarzith"

Suddenly, a torrent of sharp, jagged ice rained down on the goblins on top of the goblins up top of the moutain ridge. She could hear the screams as many were impaled on the large ice ridges, and she kept up her attack, making sure to keep them away from the rest of the party members.



TAG: @Shadowsun @greyjedi125 @Master Vo'Un'Var @galactic-vagabond422 @The Jedi in the Pumas @Kurisan @Mitth_Fisto @Darth_Elu (To observe)

 

IC: Taella and Anaxagore (combo with @greyjedi125 and @Shadowsun )



After Zalzabar’s scolding, Taella remained obediently beside the Dragonkin Lord as the questors continued their journey. She felt a sense of disquiet when they entered the narrow, steep-sided valley. Her nose wrinkled. Was that Ne’tar? But she held her tongue, and kept close to her master.

Then the goblin appeared before the party, screeching his battle cry. In moments, the nasty creatures were everywhere.

Ugh! she scowled, This is why you must let me free to scout ahead these places!

The party were surrounded with alarming speed. The goblins swarmed from their hiding places in the caves and other dark corners. The young wood elf recognised the tough-skinned cretins – cave goblins, also known as lava goblins to her people. She wondered if Ne’tar was distantly related. Could he talk to them? Then she remembered the orcish tribes enjoyed warring with each other almost as much as they delighted in attacking the elves.

A pair of goblins appeared atop a craggy boulder before Taella and pointed frost-blades. Blasts of ice-blue fire erupted toward her. The nimble elf somersaulted instinctively to dodge. She drew an arrow and nocked while still mid-air, landed cat-like on her feet, then loosed the shot. One of the goblins toppled over backwards with the arrow embedded in his eye. The other watched in confusion as his companion fell, until a second arrow from Taella sent him tumbling to the same fate.

Taella glanced back to observe the rest of Zalzabar’s party. The Ryujin were moving quickly to battle. She knew they were awesome warriors, but the goblins were dangerous in hordes. Individually, the creatures made inept and cowardly soldiers; but when they vastly outnumbered their prey, like this, they became fanatical. Taella believed they could even overwhelm a dragon.

She worried for Cretaus, but saw that Zalzabar had already placed the boy in the care of the Elder Ryujin, Esenma.

Taella decided the best thing she could do was try to find a way out of the ambush quickly. She turned and fired a silver gossamer arrow up toward one of the steep cliffs that hemmed the narrow valley. It locked tight into a crevasse and she leapt. Using the slender string, she ran vertically up the cliff-face, at a curving angle at the end of the silver rope.

A goblin appeared from jutting rocks, thrusting a spear. Taella gave him a bare-footed kick to the chin as she passed. Two more reached from a hole half-way up the cliff-side. Taella leapt, pushing away from the rockface to twirl out of reach.

She came to the top of the cliff – itself but a shelf halfway up the steep mountain. The sun was quickly setting, and the gloomy valley was falling into complete darkness. But her sharp eyes spotted more of the goblins, and she gasped with alarm. They had prepared a pile of boulders to create an avalanche on her friends below. They were now screeching and frantically working levers to begin the rocky downfall. Some of those boulders were big enough to crush even a dragon’s head!

Taella wondered briefly why they had not opened with this attack, for they would surely harm their own kind fighting below now. But the goblins were not known for their tactical genius.

No matter, she had to stop this catastrophe! She ran towards the goblins, loosing another two missiles while in motion – killing the two nearest to her. The others turned and screamed, drawing weapons.

Taella was soon surrounded herself. She drew her dagger and parried a huge axe – using her deftness to turn the blade rather than try and stop it dead. She whirled, plunging her short blade into a neck, then dodged a spear thrust. There was not much space to move on the clifftop, and more and more goblins were now rushing to attack her.

One of the brutes caught her in the base of her back with a club and she fell to her hands and knees with a cry. A jagged sword was pointed to her neck, but one of the bigger goblins took hold the hand that wielded it.

“Dis one be wimpy, we takes her alive and eats her!” the big gnarly one said to the smaller sword-wielder.

The mob screeched in agreement, leaping to take hold of Taella’s arms and legs in their rough, wiry-strong hands. One sank his little teeth into her calf, eliciting another cry of pain from the elf scout. The biter was given a club to the head himself from the big leader.

“Not yet, Skargit! We cooks her after we kills the wyrm-kind down dere! Truss her up for now!”

* * *​

The time for words was over. Anaxagore frowned deeply as he realized that the group was now surrounded by a horde of goblins and were at a tactical disadvantage. The dark haired warrior immediately brandished his two swords, one in each hand.

His mind immediately went to Cretaus, who was the least of them in terms of power, despite being exceedingly clever and a born survivor. After a quick glance, he was silently grateful to Lady Esenma and Lord Zalzabar’s quick thinking.

Anaxagore had full confidence that Ne’tar would protect and support Delsanra and that both of them would stand tall. The dark haired warrior chuckled despite himself at the thought of Rebecca mincing the goblins to ribbons, as they were unworthy of her warrior prowess.

He did not need to worry about the mighty Dominus. That left him with one consideration.

Despite his earlier annoyance, Anaxagore remained close to Kaynus, his swords already slicing out in a dervish as he cut down a pair of goblins who attempted to rush him with spears. Anaxagore had spun between them, avoiding their weapons, and beheading them cleanly.

The noble Ryujin was at his weakest in human form and at his most powerful in dragon form. As far as he could tell, young Kaynus could only transition between the two forms.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Taella making her way to the top of the ridge and taking out a pair of goblins herself. That made him smile, if only for a moment.

Anaxagore saw the two red goblins already launching blazing red rocks at the group. The Ryujin Protector responded immediately.

Instinctively, he had gathered a measure of power within himself and jumped, while simultaneously throwing both his swords as if they were daggers, aimed at each goblin’s head. Anaxagore’s form came between the two blazing rocks, his body now momentarily wreathed in energy, his arms crossed and fists balled. In an instant, he backlisted both fiery boulders and shattered them into bits.

The two goblins were falling now, dead, his swords driven into their heads almost to the hilt. In a smooth motion, Anaxagore removed each sword before the bodies even hit the ground.

For a split second, his eye glanced at the yellow goblin with the staff, their leader.

That was when he heard Taella cry out from above the ridge.

Anaxagore huffed.

He wanted to keep an eye on the entire engagement, but that was not tactically possible. He also was unsure if he should summon his Ryujin form. Derius had bested the Crimson Knights, but there were still others, not to mention Derius himself.

And what about Kaynus?

He was a Ryujin, a noble one at that, despite his peculiarities. Taella was a wood elf. Everyone mattered equally to the Protector. But Kaynus was not in any present danger, and he could always transform. Taella could not and he would never forgive himself if something happened to her – especially if he could prevent it.

“Damn it!!”

With a growl issuing from his core, Anaxagore took a bounding leap, then bounced off a jutting rock before flipping onto the top of the ridge where goblins had surrounded Taella.

Immediately, his blades left his hands as he threw them at an angle for a boomerang effect. Two goblins lost their heads as they were cleaved neatly from their shoulders, the sword returning to the warrior’s hands unimpeded.

“Get away from her….!!!” he commanded. His voice rough and dark, his visage pouring out his threat in waves. He did not need to use his dark roar to induce fear, for his posture said it all.

He would kill them all.

Taella struggled against the many hands that gripped her slender limbs, straining and writhing with all her might. Rough ropes were produced, but she wriggled and squirmed, thwarting their attempts to bind her.

Then a roar, and a whoosh of flying blades, and two of her captors lost their heads in sprays of thick blood globules. The rest of the goblins moaned and dropped her and fell back, wailing.

Taella looked up and saw... Anaxagore on the clifftop. Well, that filled her heart with utter joy for a moment amongst the despair and adrenalin-fuelled rush of battle. The gorgeous man beat back other goblins, looking wonderful as he performed his martial dance.

The goblins shrieked back in terror as Anaxagore bellowed through the mountain tops. Nearby, Zalzabar spared a glance up to the young Ryujin. He wished he could help the situation, but he simply could not. The goblins redoubled their efforts as they swarmed around him.

Those that remained alive around Anaxagore and Taella leapt back, their eyes wary of the two of them. These goblins could sense the strength that dwelt within them. They eyed each other, chattering their teeth, grunts that were supposedly words exchanged between them.

Then there was a distant scuffling noise that came from the opposite direction. The goblins grinned in unison as they charged back toward Anaxagore. These goblins he would be able to slay easily, the real threat was behind him.

Taella found she could not admire him for long. With that rumbling noise the very mountain trembled under her hands and feet. Something was happening. She studied the ground, watching the dust shake, then looked up to a point just behind Anaxagore.

A sea of red, smaller goblins splurged forth from underneath the rock, burrowing out with arcane magic.



These goblins were smaller, child-sized, and had less natural armor over their bodies, but they more than made up for this in their speed and numbers. They would soon engulf the adept Ryujin, chattering away at his armor, clothes, and skin. One thing was certain; if Taella did not help him or if Anaxagore did not transform into a Ryujin he would surely perish.

This newfound swarm of tiny goblins paid no attention to Taella, focusing on the main threat. Two larger adult goblins waddled to Taella, attempting to restrain her and drag her underneath the ground. They had drastically underestimated her abilities, and if she had paid close attention she would be able to tell that these goblins were particularly sensitive to large noises, as evidenced by Anaxagore's roar.

"No!" Taella yelled, quickly retrieving her dropped dagger and rising to her feet. She saw Anaxagore completely engulfed in the tide of tiny critters. The sheer numbers of attackers overwhelmed his power - like the swarm of bees that drive off the mighty bear - and he disappeared within the mass.

Taella was about to rush to his aid when several of her former captors grabbed her from behind again. Emboldened by the demise of her rescuer, they cackled in her ears.

"Dat lad be done, my lovely, and yer gonna be dinner!"

Taella wriggled with a sudden renewed strength born from panic, freeing one leg and crunching one of the grasping goblins with her knee to his crotch. He crumpled, groaning. Her dagger-hand was now free, and she slammed her blade into the eye of another. Then a high kick to the face sent the last assailant scattering.

Taella was free again. She scooped up her longbow, staring at the heaving mass of scarlet critters. Anaxagore was somewhere inside that! What could she do?

She had noticed their sensitivity to sound - it triggered a memory of a lesson from her mentor, Scarloc, many moons ago. Lava goblins hated loud noises!

But Taella's voice was light and for singing, hardly powerful enough to affect this horde even if she screamed her lungs out.

She reached into her quiver. There was another idea. The Thunderclap arrow. Meant to startle beasts or even to signal over long distances... it would be perfect in this confined valley.

She nocked the stubby enchanted missile and let it fly into the rockface nearby. The arrow struck and released such a thump and echoing roar that she feared half the mountainside may fall down in avalanche…

* * *​

The Thunderclap arrow resonated throughout the mountainside. The blind, child-sized goblins shrieked in terror, their senses cut off. They flew off Anaxagore and burrowed back underground. Their rumblings could be heard underneath. Another set of the adult goblins, who were less susceptible to the Thunderclap arrow, came rushing toward the two of them, perhaps twenty-five or so, more than enough to slaughter any normal person.

Anaxagore growled as he stood revealed. His pale skin was now completely marked with innumerable scratches, cuts, lacerations and bite marks all over his body. Pieces of his armor were also missing. His face, too, was marked with gouges, scratches and bites, even as his dark haired wafted wildly, for it was completely disheveled. Anaxagore’s left eye was half-closed and bleeding, but the fury in him was palpable. His twin blades were coated with blood and gristle from the goblins he had killed. But they had been too numerous.

That was a mistake he would not repeat.

The adept Ryujin panted heavily, great plumes of steam puffed out with every breath. He spared a glance at Taella, managing only a nod of gratitude, but said nothing - for the moment belonged to the larger goblins now rushing forward towards the two of them.

Anaxagore snarled at them and whispered:

’Adamant Bulwark & Dark Fire Fang’

In an instant, a dark purple flash of energy swirled about the adept Ryujin, then whirled itself into non-existence, revealing something new.



The Protector of Regnum, armed and armored. Despite being aware of the risks, he would not be undone by a horde of misbegotten goblins. He would much rather perish against a truly worthy foe than suffer such a shameful end at the hands of these base creatures.

Anaxagore delivered a mountain cleaving swing of his two-handed-sword, dark fire speeding forth in a destructive arc against the advancing enemies.

“There is only death here…” He intoned darkly, his focus now completely on the battle.

Taella rushed to a position covering Anaxagore’s back, as another mob advanced from the opposite direction on the clifftop. The pair stood back-to-back, facing their grimacing enemies.

The elf heard the whoosh of dark fire spreading behind her, but could not look back now. She had her own side to deal with.

She took out a Hail of Doom arrow and unleashed it into the charging goblins. As soon as it left the drawstring, the enchanted missile split into many shards, glowing with amber magic. Eyes were pierced, necks punctured, chests speared.

Between them, Anaxagore and Taella accounted for a great many goblins before they reached melee range…

TAG: @Shadowsun @Mitth_Fisto @Ktala @galactic-vagabond422 @Master Vo'Un'Var @The Jedi in the Pumas

 

Rebecca Dragon
Battle in the Valley

As they continued on Rebecca chose to don her war paint, this adventure had granted her battle after battle, she wanted to be prepared for the next one. Holding the pot of pigment in one hand she used her other apply the deep red paint. Her fingers brushed along her cheekbones going to her hairline. Then across her nose and up to her forehead. Her practiced movements showed she had done this many times, it was almost second nature to her. As her fingers moved across her warm skin she took a few deep breaths feeling the fire in her veins grow and grow. When she finally finished she was ready for a fight. Though it was starting to seem as if she wouldn't get that battle. The sun was getting low in the sky and just for a moment she thought that she'd gotten all dressed up for nothing. Then they stopped in the valley, for a moment she arched her brow at their leader.

As the goblin voices rang out in the mountain pass she grinned broadly. Oh, she would get the fight she wanted. Her attention was first drawn to the ones on the mountain side raining down fire, but Dominus had that handled, the addition of ice shards falling on their position convinced her not to follow, Bright Eyes was already moving up the cliff face so that was handled, it didn't look like too many from where Rebecca was standing. That just left the font the on coming wave of red goblins. A bust of lightning gave her just the opening she needed.

Rushing over the convulsing bodies of those that took a full blast of lightning bolt she drew her blade cleaving a goblin in two as she did. That was one, with a swift down slash she buried her blade into the skull of another that was two. With a pull cut she extracted her blade, wheeling to her right cleaved half way through another, three. Soon the rest of the goblins started to get their bearings starting to rush toward her. That's what she wanted, given their short stature she could use the natural pull of the planet to aid the power of her downward swings. With a broad slash two heads were removed from the cradle of goblin shoulders, sent tumbling off into the distance, four and five. A goblin lept up toward her teeth bared, with a thrust she plunged her point into the open maw watching the body go limp on her blade, six.

With all the might in her arm she brought her blade down letting the corpse of the one skewered on her blade just limply slide off and crash into his comrades like a ragdoll. Her edge burrowed into the head of the next, their eyes rolling into the back of their skull, seven. The blood in her veins was burning hotter and hotter. There was more death to cause, more blood to spill; it would not be sated until every last one of these monsters were dead.

They were beasts, no one would care if she just slaughtered them all.

Shrap teeth dug into her shins but her greves prevented them from getting any purchase in her flesh. She thrust her blade down piercing through his swollen head and making his jaw go slack, eight. A squat red figure rushed toward her a makeshift spear in its hands it thrust it forward in a weak stab which Rebecca stopped by wrapping her hand around the shaft of the weapon and pushing it to the side while she slipped her blade into its chest, nine. Ripping the weapon from its dying hands she hurled it into the mass of bodies pinning a body to the snowy ground as it pierced all the way through its chest, ten.

Withdrawing her blade she swiped her hand over the still wet edge gathering cooling goblin blood on her gauntlet and smearing it over her face. The rage was burning in her veins, and with her face covered in blood, she let it run wild.

Bodies fell left and right around her, she quickly lost count of how many met their end by her sword. Their pitiful weapons failed to break her armor, and those that did manage to find gaps didn't live very long. Her blade cut through the air, a trail of blood following after. The snow covered ground was turned rocky and red with the fighting, and blood.

Despite the carnage the goblins kept coming, and they kept falling. The warrior was surrounded but, it didn't matter. One would jump onto her back and would find itself ripped from its place and thrown on the ground its head caved in by her boot.

A barbed spear point caught her in the shoulder, she paid it not mind lifting up the goblin that dared harm her. It held on to the spear even as the warrior straightened her back taking the creature off its feet. It kicked fruitlessly in the air before it met her blade. A laugh rang out in the valley, the laugh of a woman lost in the madness of battle, enjoying the death and destruction that swirled around her.

Though monsters surrounded her, she didn't fear them, they were just more blood to spill, more lives to take. She would be their reaper.

Their Laughing Butcher...

TAG: @Shadowsun @Mitth_Fisto @Ktala @greyjedi125 @Master Vo'Un'Var @The Jedi in the Pumas @Kurisan

 

IC: Ne'tar & the Gobs - A Combo with Shadowsun
Walking through the valley in the Shadow of Mages

After about another half an hour through this valley, a swift dart of a red, something as Zalzabar motioned for the group to stop.

"Oh great not them" Ne'tar hear Zalzy state.
A single yellow goblin hobbled onto a rock peering down at them all screeching what were supposed to be words to travelers.

"You are trespassing on the great King Zikki's territory you must die for this treachery"

It then sniffled for a moment before speaking again, a boney finger pointing to Zalzabar.

"Zalzabar! Zalzabar! You must all be killed!"

Many little hardbody cousins emerged. Ne'tar groan. If alone Ne'tar pass through no issue, Ne'tar mostly sure. With Zalzabar and scanty clad elf Ne'tar knew this no go good. Yup, there screeching war cry. They colorful. Ne'tar wonder if paint or natural? Ne'tar find out when cut open and see. Wash one or two in own blood.

Front and sides, goblins. New with blade, with staff, with burning balls. Ice sword pair see skimpy elf and cry out. Second one Ne'tar sure cause them be in trouble, cause them be in trouble.
"Wood Elf!"

She was one to dance with flames now. Ne'tar no do nothing about that, but with sword in scabbard in hand Ne'tar step forward and swing at fire ball, back at little things. Roaring once he connect. Granny has her breath, Ne'tar has war cry! Moving forward he stop shy as they race him, in shifty sand of battle, one must be breeze between the sand and the rock that stop sand. Step side, hack into goblin, slide sideways to cut deep and free to cleave into another. Zalzy do his thing with lightning.

The red goblins shrieked in terror as the half-orc sliced roared. The fireball slamming into the goblin mage that had summoned it, exploding the helpless creature into pieces. Other goblins close to Ne'tar formed together in a gaggle, egging each other to attack their larger cousin. Six of the goblins then rushed forward, clawing and yelling, swarming round the half-orc, but unlike Ne'tar these goblins were weak, their underbellies fleshy and vulnerable while their backs were harder like rock, his sword would bounce off doing no damage if he struck them above.

Ne'tar see little rudy goblins fear Ne'tar! This good. Then they come, no weapons, just teeth and claws in pack circle. Like wolf-turtle they came, Ne'tar ready for this. Not first time Ne'tar fight things smaller than Ne'tar, and belly soft. Stepping one foot back behind other foot Ne'tar crouch, waiting. Once they nearly near enough Ne'tar scimitar to reach Ne'tar swing it out, twist legs so Ne'tar spin-slice-spin-slice. When Ne'tar no more spin-spin, Ne'tar jump-dive-roll over first downed goblin Ne'tar see and turn back to see if any still come. If no come, Ne'tar have plan. Taunt casting goblins.

The goblins were slain aside a hot knife through butter, Ne'tar's blades slicing through his foe with utter ease. One of the goblins gave a shriek, banging a wooden staff against the ground, a rock rising up as a slab from the ground below would slam into the half-orc, knocking him to the ground. This goblin was different, it was one of the yellow ones, weaker physically but more dangerous overall. The situation was complicated by the fact that four of the red goblins stood in Ne'tar's path preventing him from going directly for the yellow goblin mage. It let out another shriek, pointing a finger at Ne'tar.

"Kill the big gobo! He's one of the weak ones!"

Ne'tar see where this go. Ne'tar no like it though. With twitching eyes Ne'tar try feel that thing. Alone. But Ne'tar distracted by battle of others all around, not work. With grunt Ne'tar start old warning Orc defender dance. Stomp right foot, beat left breast. Stomp left foot, beat right breast. Loud roar into. . .

"Jiak kij ukavrong! Jiak kij orc ro xan! Aavavack alnej agh jiak liwo avaukave lat gijak agh feaukav par lat avhiuk nighav!" *

Bending down toward them Ne'tar bare tusks and roar. Roar like one hungry, looking at promise of good food. Ne'tar ready to fight, to feast.

The four goblins in front of him shirked in terror, not too far away from him Rebecca was slaying goblins with ease, their lines dwindling, seeing their fate sealed they turned to flee, although the half-orc would be catch up with them with ease. The yellow goblin stomped its feet in annoyance, banging its staff. Several chunks of large rock flew toward Ne'tar. Snow lay all around the yellow goblin, it was doubtful the half-orc would be able to close the distance to get to the yellow goblin without more rock slamming into him once more.

Ne'tar know this dance. Mages like keep distance, use elements smash and keep warriors away. Wood Elf of course not here lend arrow, but Ne'tar fine with that. Sure she off kill something. . .somewhere. Ne'tar dodge another rock, so Ne'tar grab tangle bag from spot on back belt and throw at end of dodge. If Ne'tar able tangle down mage gob Ne'tar able close distance. Sever head. Ne'tar no have time running reds, enough left fight without them.

The 'tangle bag' wrapped itself around the yellow goblin, who then promptly slipped on the snow, falling hard on the rocky ground. It would be of ease for the half-orc to dispatch the goblin mage. The head cleaving neatly from the creature's body. The remaining red goblins running away in terror.

Ne'tar take easy win and Ne'tar do as Ne'tar say Ne'tar do to self in Ne'tar's mind. Ne'tar stumble charge up snowy hill to yellow gob, and without stop Ne'tar drop chop head off. Ne'tar then pick up head by nose and chuck toward where first gobs had come from.

Seeing red gobs run away, Ne'tar bend down and grab yellow gob leg and staff before walking over to rejoin group.Ne'tar take easy win and Ne'tar do as Ne'tar say Ne'tar do to self in Ne'tar's mind. Ne'tar stumble charge up snowy hill to yellow gob, and without stop Ne'tar drop chop head off. Ne'tar then pick up head by nose and chuck toward where first gobs had come from.

Seeing red gobs run away, Ne'tar bend down and grab yellow gob leg and staff before walking over to rejoin group.

TAG: @Shadowsun , @galactic-vagabond422 , @Ktala @greyjedi125 @Master Vo'Un'Var @The Jedi in the Pumas @Kurisan

OOC: *Translation- I am strong! I am Orc of Xan! Attack me and I will taste your blood and feast on you this night!

 

Esenma
-Attack in Goblin Ridge

The Older woman blurted a laugh as the goblins surrounded them and started shouting. Nuisances, they all were. Goblins were like rats, only slightly bigger, stronger, and entirely too territorial. She shuffled over to Cretaus and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder as her breathing became very deep. Goblins were still a threat to normal people and were deadly in swarms to even the best combatants. Anaxagore and Rebecca danced across the field, tearing, slashing and slaughtering the goblins. Yuck. Esenma was no virgin when it came to swaths of blood and body parts soaring through the air. But it was still gross. Another difference between warriors and mages.

She exhaled in a short burst...then another...then several more times until all of the small, some would say adorable elementals were out of her body. They were not as large as her previous elementals but they would get the job done.



Eight of them in total surrounded Esenma and Cretaus, all approximately the size of a helmet. Two of them merged with Esenma's wind cloak to form a larger, fatter version that encompassed both Cretaus and the Elder in his stomach. Physical attacks would bounce off its sphere and it would handle the offensive as well, sending out small gusts in the form of punches and slams to punish the pesky little goblins. This elemental seemed to have a personality and took pleasure in whacking the goblins unconscious as they tried to attack Esenma and the boy. The other six elementals soared through the battlefield to attach themselves to:

Rebecca received two. Her two were bloodthirsty and aggressive, sending out wind slashes that disarmed the goblins near her.




Anaxagore received two. His were honorable and noble, providing him a steady stream of hyper oxygenated air.

Taella received one. Her's was fast and upbeat, zipping around her blow air darts at the goblins to keep them at bay.

And the final one floated beside Delsanra. Her's was quiet and only provided a protective wind cloak for the snow elf.

They would act to protect their blindspots. Esenma smiled at performing the support role. The others were much better suited for dispatching these murderous little cretins.

"Not everyone can be all big and strong, Cretaus. Some of us provide a rooting voice in the background! GO GET'EM REBECCA!"

Tag: @greyjedi125 @Ktala @galactic-vagabond422 @Shadowsun @Darth_Elu @Mitth_Fisto

 

Kaynus Allbright
Ambushed!

Kaynus, observing the others with their fighting, let out a loud chuckle.

"Hahah! Mortals, you take down these morsels so slowly. Behold as I, the God of Everything, destroy these goblins in a single blow!!!"

Kaynus launched his hand in the air, and performed his signature 360' transformation into a Ryujin.



A small flash of bright light appeared and then-

Kaynus dropped to the ground, groaning in pain, as massive clouds of steam poured from his body. The damage from Zalzabar's lightning strike earlier had left his Ryujin form and his human form too wounded.

What is this?!

Kaynus picked himself up, slowly and painfully. His body stung with heat, and he clutched his head in agony.

Damnit... What's going on?

He watched the others effortlessly slice goblins into pieces. It was unfair! He needed to show them how it was done! He looked at his hands, and saw the burns from Zalzabar's attack and his failed transformation throb with a painful red colour.

In this form, Kaynus was useless! He had no weapon to strike the goblins with, let alone training. Magic was out of the picture as well. He turned around, and found a lose stone on the ground. He snatched it up and launched it towards one of the goblins!

The stone whizzed past the goblin's head and landed pitifully on the ground. Kaynus shook his head, furious at his failure, and hid behind a large boulder until the battle was done...

Tags: @Shadowsun, everyone else

 

OOC: Final control of Cretaus, passing it back to @Darth_Elu

The Smoke Clears
​

The Ruberot goblins, even knowing all too well the capabilities of Zalzabar, had severely underestimated the abilities of Zalzabar's troupe, the terror was clear in their eyes as Rebecca, Ne'tar, and Anaxagore ripped into the denizens. Taella and Delsanra acting as the long-ranged attack, Delsanra's ice shower slaughtering a couple of dozen goblins, the spikes bouncing of their armored backs but finding gaps between their armor or in some cases lodging themselves in their eyes. Taella's hail of doom, wiping out the charging group, the stragglers that remained terrified by the incoming protector of Regnum in his full armor. Esenma played the support role her little air elementals shoring up everyone's blindspots. Dominus continued to rip through the goblins, blood sprayed all over his shirtless chest. Zalzabar's electric aura surrounded him swirling like a hurricane as it zapped and fried any goblin that came near him.

The display of their combined powers was dazzling and at the sight of the leader being slain, the yellow goblin Ne'tar had decapitated, the others shrieked in terror, slipping back into the earth. Goblins were a cowardly species after all if they felt like they had no chance, which in case they certainly did not, they would turn and ran as soon as they could, which is exactly what they did.

Zalzabar turned to face the group, a small smile spread over his face, he couldn't help it but it just felt good to finally win at something. His attention then turned to young Cretaus, Esenma hadn't noticed, or perhaps had been too distracted by cheering Rebecca on, but Cretaus was caught in a fierce wrestling match with one of the adult goblins. Zalzabar couldn't help but laugh loudly, it was comical the two of them rolling round in the snow fiercely, the determination on the boy's face clear. Dominus lept down from the cliff landing next to the Elder Ryujin about to walk over and kill the goblin for Cretaus. Zalzabar let out an arm blocking him.

"No this is too important if it looks like any real danger then we'll intervene."

The tussle and turning continued for several more moments before eventually, Cretaus was able to smack the creature's head against a rock, bashing into in several times. Zalzabar eyed the boy, giving him a firm nod before turning to the rest of the group. The sky was dim, although not quite nightfall.

"You can come out now Kaynus. Well, that was quite eventful, yes the Ruberot goblins are quite common around here, the village is quite close now, come if we push on we might be able to make it before it gets too dark"

He then eyed Dominus who was thoroughly covered in Goblin blood.

"We could all probably do with a bath too..."

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 @Master Vo'Un'Var @Ktala @Kurisan @Mitth_Fisto @Darth_Elu @greyjedi125 @The Jedi in the Pumas

---

The Inner Sanctum of Morslum, Haugun

In the hours that had passed since the Crimson Knights clashed with Derius they had managed to hobble their way back to Haugun, Sonus taking the form of a dragon and carrying Roger the Red back to the capital of Haugun, Morslum, the dreaded mega-fortress of Malum Dragonson.

The two made their way inside to the central throne room, where Malum Dragonson would be waiting for them, just not in the flesh. The two swiftly bowed on one bended knee before the throne where a metallic golem sat, its chest filled with an unnatural light, if they did not know better it would appear as if the throne and golem were one.

The Golem of Malum Dragonson​

Next to the golem stood another figure in full armor, Ulfric Mordenheim, the left hand of the Sun, the dreaded champion of Haugun, his power alone made Roger think twice about his actions while in his presence.

Ulfric Mordenheim​

The golem's eyes lit up blue as they knelt, its creator now speaking through the construct.

"I received the message from Elizabeth, and you appear before me without the head of Zalzabar.

It paused before it noticed that Elizabeth was missing.

"Where is she?"

The two Crimson Knights sparred a glance at each other before Roger stood, gazing into the eyes of the golem as he spoke.

"My Lord, there was an unexpected incident, Derius Ralinommu he attacked us and took Elizabeth hostage."

Malum fell silent contemplating for several moments. What was Derius playing at? Why did he want Elizabeth? If he was not trying to invade Athas he would normally consider this an act of war. Such an action he did not take lightly. The golem's head turned to face Ulfric.

"Go find Derius, expedite my meeting with him, I'll have to put my research on hold"

Ulfric bowed, disappearing into the darkness that engulfed the throne room. The golem's eyes fixated squarely on Roger's own, the voice now booming throughout the chamber.

"Your failure is a great disappointment Roger, I expected far more from you. I am relieving you of your command of the Crimson Knights, you assured me the lack of ryujin blood flowing through your veins would be of no consequence."

Roger furrowed his brow, clearly trying to suppress his anger. It was his fault he should have brought the others and now he was being demoted for his overconfidence. The mention of his non-ryujin status did not phase him, he considered himself a failed ryujin, a curse that gave him the speed and strength in human form without the magnificence of the dragon form.

"Yes my Lord, if I may ask which of the Crimson Knights will replace me?"

A chuckled emitted from the golem, Malum clearly bemused by his question.

"Oh well, my daughter of course."

TAG: No one

 

Rebecca Dragon
Parting Kill

Bodies of the goblins were piled up around her, a swath of red blood on the white snow marked her deadly path. Her dark armor dripped with dark icor, her sword covered in the crimson that gave her the moniker, Crimson Blade. As the goblins fled she rushed forward like a blood covered beast running down its prey. One of the slower ones tripped over their feet falling face first into the snow. Not wasting a moment she lept upon it, her legs straddling its rocky back, the weight of her armored form pinning it to the ground. With an outstretched hand grabbed hold of the long nose of the creature wrenching back to expose the neck. It struggled and flailed, claws scratching at her arms, leaving marks on her armor. Angling her blade she thrust the point behind the throat of the beast, easily cutting through the flesh and sinew and emerging out the other side of their neck. With a final push she opened the throat fully to the cold air sending a spray of red across the trampled snow.

Her deadly dance done she slumped forward her arms holding up her body as she took in deep, deep breaths. One could see her body shiver, possibly from the cold, or her bloodlust finally being sated. Her muscles released all the tension leaving her as she rolled onto her back looking up at the fading sky her brilliant red hair splayed out behind her, the tips just touching the growing pool of goblin blood.

Another shaky breath left her the last of the fire going cold in her chest. That was when the pain came, her shoulder that had taken a barbed spear, her knee impacted by a heavy club, the bite taken out of the flesh of her neck. They all hurt, and without her fire to dull the pain she felt it all. The sighs of relief became growls of anguish as she sat up again. Her body was hurting but, she would soldier on. Getting to her feet she watched as the kid made his first kill. Or at least his first kill that she saw. Bashing the goblin's head against a stone. It echoed in her soul, the primal nature of it bore shades of her first kill.

Her legs straddled the chest of her armored opponent, a heavy stone in her hand that she brought down again and again on his skull. She walked forward coming up to the boy and giving him a nod. It was a simple gesture, something to show that she knew what it was like to kill. Though for her the pain of the first thinking life taken by her hand was the aftermath, the death of her father.

Finding a rag she cleaned her blade and returned it to its place, satisfied that the goblins would not return any time soon.

"Then let us be off…" She said turning towards the town and waiting for the others to join her.

TAG: @Shadowsun @Master Vo'Un'Var @Ktala @Kurisan @Mitth_Fisto @Darth_Elu @greyjedi125 @The Jedi in the Pumas

 

Ne'tar
Battle's End

Ne'tar see what others do, send little Gob running. Ne'tar also see little human bash with rock. It was a hard kill but little one earn. Ne'tar give tusk lift and grunt to him, done good. . .for little guy. Ne'tar still drag body as all take stock and bloody say to move on. Dropping headless yellow one Ne'tar slice down neck a bit before take rag and clean blade before sheathing. Ne'tar no want rust.

Bending down Ne'tar finger corpse neck, Ne'tar peel back skin, turn this way, twist that until Ne'tar tear piece off. Ne'tar sniff and eye little rough thing. Thing yellow naturally. Odd. Ne'tar no know why, but Ne'tar find odd.

With squinty eyes Ne'tar wipe off fingers and grab body and staff off ground. "Ne'tar ready, make town and keep go."

Ne'tar wait see if Delsanra need hand again. Otherwise Ne'tar see all able walk selves.

TAG: @Shadowsun @Master Vo'Un'Var @Ktala @Kurisan @galactic-vagabond422 , @Darth_Elu @greyjedi125 @The Jedi in the Pumas

 

Delsanra Taenya Helestina
It battle ends

Delsanra saw no more goblins flanked her, and could hear the sounds of battle around her. She looked around and found the sight ... disturbing.

Taella had climbed up one of the walls of the valley around them, and Delsanra made sure her icy missiles did not hit the wood elf. Taella then let loose an arrow, that made a loud noise like thunder! If anyone else was following them, they had certainly given notice. Anaxagore had transformed into some armor, was cleaving a path through the horde. Rebecca, by the three, was covered in blood, and cleaving her way through goblin bodies, smiling. Dominus was also busy on the other side of the ridge. Esenma seemed to be taking care of Cretaus.. Net'ar had yelled something, and had jumped into the fray. Zalzy was enveloped in electricity..and what in the world was next to her.? It was obviously some sort of wind elemental, that Delsara eyed for a moment. And Kaynus?? She didnt immediately see him. She heard him yelling earlier, but then he had gone quiet.

Not too long after, things grew quiet, as the goblins were either killed or had runoff. Even Cretaus managed to get in on the gory action. Delsanra gave a deep sigh. Zalzabar called out to the group.

"You can come out now Kaynus. Well, that was quite eventful, yes the Ruberot goblins are quite common around here, the village is quite close now, come if we push on we might be able to make it before it gets too dark."

He then eyed Dominus who was thoroughly covered in Goblin blood.

"We could all probably do with a bath too..."

Rebecca cleaned her blade, and then stood up. "Then let us be off…" She said turning towards the town and waiting for the others to join her. Everyone else seemed to be clearing their weapons and preparing to follow.

Ne'tar looked over towards Delsanra. She shook her head slightly, and held on to her staff, drawing up her hood once more. Two attacks before things have even begun. Already their enemies knew of them before they knew anything. If anything happened to Zalzabar now, they would not have a clue how to proceed. She hoped that things would improve soon, as she saw Kaynus. Perhaps, once they made it to the village, they could discuss whatever the supposed plan was supposed to be. But she had not forgotten Ne'tar's and her earlier conversation. She hoped that they would not be bringing any harm to the village. If it has not come already.

Delsanra moved to join the others silently, leaning on her staff. She had much to contemplate. Something did not feel right, but it was nothing she could put her finger on, yet. Perhaps, after some rest, things would become clearer.

TAG: @Shadowsun @greyjedi125 @Master Vo'Un'Var @galactic-vagabond422 @The Jedi in the Pumas @Kurisan @Mitth_Fisto @Darth_Elu

 

IC: Anaxagore
One battle ends…

For a moment, he simply stood surveying the battlefield, making sure that all hostilities were ended. The group began to move, slowly, quietly, for the most part. From what he could see, it seemed that fighting had ceased.

Anaxagore whispered a word and his armor vanished in the manner it had appeared, with a flash of dark fire. He stood there revealed, still injured as he was before the dark armor was summoned, except this time, instead of a frown, he had a smirk on his face.

"That’s some arrow you got there…” He said to Taella and smiled at her with a glint of admiration in his eye. Still, he did not linger as he walked upon the blood saturated snow, checking on the others.

Seeing Rebecca, he smiled and nodded respectfully, despite not expecting solidarity in return. She was here for the coin and he had begun to accept that. Seeing Ne’tar prodding a dead goblin caused him to chuckle for some reason. Apparently, he managed to obtain some choice trophies as well.

Turning his head, he finally saw what he was looking for. Cretaus was unharmed, but seemed a bit sullen, which was understandable. The boy had been in two life and death battles in less than two days, never having been in a real skirmish before- at least as he could tell. It wasn’t an easy thing to experience, but thankfully, he was in the company of those who could help him through it.

The two casters, Delsanra and Lady Esanma seemed fine as well, but their exhaustion became more and more evident. Casting big spells was clearly a considerable drain of stamina.

Before he could look for his next objective, Lord Zalzabar instructed for Kaynus to come out of hiding. Anaxagore chuckled again, somewhat amused, yet relieved that the Noble Ryujin was alright, however, he was surprised that he hadn’t transformed into a Dragon as expected. That was somewhat odd, but Anaxagore did not focus on that at the moment.

Upon seeing Dominus, the ryujin warrior lifted an eyebrow and let out a long whistle. Dominus was completely covered in enemy gristle. It made for a frightening sight. Anaxagore wanted to say something to mark the moment, but no words came, so he settled for an incredulous chuckle.

In truth, it had been sometime since he’d been part of a bloody skirmish like this one. Those had actually lasted days, as opposed to a mere moment. Perhaps that was the silver lining, or perhaps a 'dress rehearsal' of things to come.

No, he couldn't think on that right now, so he shook his head softly- lest he gave himself a headache.

As he heard the others speak their desires to move on, he couldn't agree more. It was a bad idea to linger, lest the enemy regroup and attack anew. They needed to eat, rest and take long baths. A visit to the local healer was not a bad idea either, if there was one to be found.

As the group began to move, Anaxagore remained where he was, already deciding to take up the rear. He counted everyone as they passed, just to make sure, even while he found a mound of clean snow, untouched by the battle, and cleaned-off his face, his swords and some of his wounds. There was no doubt he was going to need a lot of rest after this night, but at least they would finally get that momentary rest they desperately deserved.

By the Three, he certainly hoped so.


Tag: @Shadowsun, @Kurisan, @Ktala, @galactic-vagabond422, @Mitth_Fisto, @Darth_Elu, @The Jedi in the Pumas

 

Esenma and Zalzabar
-Two Old Friends, Walking the Path

They walked.

And walked.

And walked.

And Esenma quickly grew tired. She forgot what it was like to go on long adventures on foot. Her elementals had all dissipated except the large one that had defended Cretaus and herself; One of the brave and honorable ones had decided to remain with Anaxagore out of sheer dedication to service and duty. That made her chuckle. She relaxed her legs and sat on the elemental cloud, riding it like a magic carpet (which she actually had once upon a time courtesy of her former orc lover). The cloud swooshed up beside Zalzabar and Esenma blew him a kiss to get his attention.

"Zalzy, how are you? This is not the beginning of the adventure you were hoping for...We're attracting...well exactly the amount of attention I was thinking you would get."

Zalzabar turned his gaze to Esenma, he himself was lost in his own thoughts, so much had happened in so little time, in truth he hated these little quiet moments, the grief came flooding back whenever it did, he had to keep moving, to keep himself busy. He gave a somber smile and a nod.

"Indeed my dear it is not what I desired, I dare say your son has grown stronger than the last time we met, been able to dispatch of the Crimson Knights so easily, it is a discomforting thought." He tilted his head, seemingly lost in thought.

"What about you my Lady, a penny for your thoughts of our little troupe?"

Esenma did something she rarely did: She rubbed a hand through her short hair. It was a tell. Her initial delight at hearing Derius' name had subsided. It was only a gracious blow from the elders of the Taetian Isles that Derius had not seen it fit to direct his focus on Taella or their small group.

"Derius has grown up, hasn't he?" Was all she began with. Discomforting was one word to describe Derius' growth. In truth, the Crimson Knights were no match for Esenma or Zalzabar, even at this late stage. Their overconfidence was the cause of their attack on Zalzabar's castle and the trio were lucky that Zalzabar had chosen to protect the group instead of unleashing his fury on them. What was worrying was that, judging from Taella's description of the confrontation between Derius and the Knights, defeating the Crimson Knights barely seemed to trouble her son. The level of Wind mastery...Smoke mastery...and Necromancy that Derius displayed...

Yes...Discomforting was the word.

"I think Delsanra is already an advanced adept. Anaxagore is as ferocious a warrior as he is a ryujin. He reminds of the forgotten ryujin gladiators from Xan. Anaxagore and Kaynus are the type that will grow through combat. All of them need to get stronger, I fear. Judging from how we are starting, the training opportunities will be on the battlefield."

Zalzabar tilted his head, his hair sparking, his equivalent of a normal person cracking their knuckles.

"I fear that you are right, as such is often the case, gone are the days of grand academies where you could study for years on end."

He looked up to the sky, thinking for a moment before continuing, going over in his mind cast on the abilities of the various members of the group.

"Delsanra is the closest of those three to unlocking her elder form and the most magically gifted besides ourselves, Anaxagore I sense has more to show than I have seen, I have yet to see his ryujin form I'm quite curious as to what he looks like, let's see, yes Kaynus is quite pathetic in his human form but clearly the strongest in his dragon form, that boy needs control more than anything else, it is all or nothing with him"

Zalzabar looked back to the group, his ramble continuing.

"Ne'tar is certainly progressing quite well already, I suspect he'll be an adept before too long, Rebecca's combat ability, well I'm surprised a non-ryujin is so strong, although clearly there is some natural magic that enhances her abilities, Taella is quite the credit to her people swift and agile as I suspected. And young Cretaus, well..."

He leaned over so only she would hear what he was about to say.

"his will is so strong, I suspect he has a great well of magically energy buried deep within him. The question remains though, once we acquire these dragon god artifacts which of them will wield them."

His eyes locked with Esenma's

"You know we are both far too old and far past our prime to wield such weapons, we must ensure they are ready for when the time comes."

"I'm not OLD. You never call a lady old, Zalzy." She half-joked, feigning offense. Ah yes.... the artifacts. Esenma believed they existed, but never had come across a shred of physical proof. Now the invitations made sense. An act of desperation by Zalzy to find suitors. It brought a smile to her face. It was soooooo Zalzy to come up with a zany idea like this. She loved it!

"You're a crazy old ryujin, Zalzy. There's no one I'd rather see the end of the world with!"

Zalzabar rolled his eyes mockingly and then let out a chuckle.

"Likewise my dear although let's do our best for it not to be the end of the world"

He gave her a wink before giving looking back forward the village was now in sight, only a couple of minutes until they would make it there, his eyes beamed as his stomach rumbled, oh the joys of civilization.

Tag: @greyjedi125 @Ktala @Shadowsun @Mitth_Fisto @Darth_Elu @galactic-vagabond422 @Kurisan

 

OOC: Full Cretaus POV of the battle from earlier will come at another time in a flashback. And more forward thinking when the soul searching begins. Headache shortening this post for now.

Cretaus IC:
~Chaos, then Blood, and now…~

The full madness of the battle now fading into the past was still too much, too full of cacophony to encompass in Cretaus’ memory yet. It was still settling in place, trying to be sorted out and understood like a bad piece of chicken leg that had been eaten or perhaps less sickeningly, that first sight of magic witnessed that was so clearly seen but could not yet be believed.

It was that kind of feeling. He could also liken it to when one’s limbs fell asleep when laying on them too much during the night or had sat down too long. Tiny little needles numbing all over, a strange sort of ecstatic adrenaline that was peculiarly dampened. When it ‘woke up’, the emotions would likely consume him. Maybe. That was yet to be determined.

But, for now, it persisted in that manner all the same.

He registered the fact that he was walking with the others again, making their exhausted and dirtied way through the mountain path toward…

Where again? Somewhere…An oddly recent, yet distant garble of a voice that he disconnectedly managed to realize was Zalzabar telling them to progress to somewhere in his memory. But for the life of him, he could not remember where. What were they even up to again?

All that he could remember, could feel..

Was that panic. The madness of battle that sprung on you after you failed to desperately avoid it. The madness of battle that you so wanted not to take part of because you did not feel ready. Did not feel strong enough. Did not feel worthy.

Yet…He had been forced to battle all the same. Someone had tried to protect him during it, keep him out of it. Cretaus had appreciated that, despite the shame and guilt he had felt, who had it been? …Ah, yes. Esenma. He’d have to thank her later.

But for now…

That panic still clung to his heart. That fear tingling through the numbness. That rage that had so irrationally gripped him in the final moments, still had the faintest ember in his soul. That blood still so visible upon his hand even as he stared at it while they walked. Despite having it hastily wiped it off in the snow much earlier.

Somehow…somehow he still saw it. Still felt it. After he had cleaned it off, it seemed more slick and vivid upon his palm than it had when it happened. Did blood like this never go away? How did it do that? Was it just him?

In this way, he just kept walking. Numb and afraid of what how little he was allowing himself to currently remember. Afraid he might now be too damaged to become a heroic fighter like he had wanted. But most of all...

But most of all he was afraid of himself. For in those rage moments, where a strange sort of clarity ensnared him in its wrathful allure; at the end when the goblin lay dead before him…

He had enjoyed it.

Tag: All Or None @Shadowsun @The Jedi in the Pumas @greyjedi125 @Ktala @Mitth_Fisto @Kurisan @galactic-vagabond422 @Master Vo'Un'Var