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| So Sang the Meadowlark | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 27 2011, 10:36 PM (1,016 Views) | |
| Oop | Feb 27 2011, 10:36 PM Post #1 |
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so they scream
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Nothing could match her ethereal grace as she twisted and wheeled through the never-ceasing-blue. The hot-orange-sky-eye shone blindingly bright upon her glistening silvery-white scales, making her like a beam of night-eye-light on a blue canvas. Not a cloud or creature in sight, and she loved it. With the slightest adjustment of wing, tail, and weight, Safia -- known also as Starfire or Moonscales -- expertly turned into one consecutive barrel roll after another, each one more tight than the previous, gaining speed and losing altitude at an alarming rate. Yet, she remained unfazed. When the break-bone-hard-ground finally rose to meet her, Safia pushed out her wings with a snap that pulled her upward abruptly. The silvery membrane, nearly translucent, cast odd half-shadows below her on the swaying green-sea-grass. Usually, Safia stuck to the sharp-ice-cold-mountains, but every now and again, a fierce longing for the heat of the hot-dry-blistering-place, of the simple joy of a swim in a large-pond, of any number of things, overtook her, and she often followed her whims. At only forty years, she was still considered little more than a hatchling, and so she came and went as she pleased. Now she banked slowly left, the tip of her massive wing very nearly skimming the ground. Angling off toward the large-pond, she propelled herself forward until she came upon the sparkling water of the Niena River. Folding her wings again, she slid into the refreshing-no-air-crystal-water, making an impressively small splash for her size. In the water, from a distance, she looked like some kind of giant fish, or an odd sunspot on the water, however, she weaved her way between liquid and air, snapping and folding her wings with agility and skill. Once, when she'd flow over the never-ending-salty-water, she'd seen creatures traverse over the waves like this. It was much easier to imitate them here, in flat water that did not swirl and lapse on itself so. When she tired, Safia glided toward the rocky shore, where she crouched and shook some of the water from her scales before lying in the very-small-rock-sand, spreading the tender and delicate membranes of her wings to dry in the sun. Against the sand, her stomach burned warmly with the fire contained within her. She settled in to dry and rest and waited for the tiny-feathered-winged-dragons to resume their songs. Edited by Oop, Mar 5 2011, 06:24 PM.
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| If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks. | |
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| Aeternum Vale | Mar 5 2011, 11:58 PM Post #2 |
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Overworked
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A white horse, clad in silvery armor trotted out from the tree line of the opposite bank. It was clearly panicked, turning this way and that and whinnying in fright. As its hooves trampled the soft sand, it became apparent that a man in full armor sat slumped in the saddle. An arrow stuck painfully out from his right shoulder, piercing him just where his shoulder guard ended. Blood dripped readily from the wound, staining the horse's flank red. Suddenly the ground beneath the horse's left hoof gave way and the beast lost its footing. It hit the ground hard, but scrambled quickly to its feet and dashed off, leaving the man in a crumpled heap with the wounding arrow's butt pointed to the sky. There was the clink of metal against metal as the man tried to heave himself up with his uninjured left arm, but his efforts were all for naught. Each time he struggled to push himself from the earth, his strength would fail him and he would collapse once more with a shudder. He huffed for breath and winced behind his full helm; every time he moved it jarred the arrow within him, it was all he could do not to scream from the pain it cause. He was sure his assailants would find him if he even so much as cried out, but it took almost all his remaining strength not to scream from the sheer agony. He closed his eyes and cried bitter, angry tears as he clenched at the sand beneath him, dirtying his white gauntlets. How had this happened? His whole party had been slain by an ambush of the very soldiers they had been sent to assist, but why? There had been an unnatural air about them, a certain silence that was unusual for those killing mercilessly. The first hint of the unprovoked attack had been the arrow lodging itself in his shoulder. Without his sword arm he could only watch as his soldiers were laid low. He would have stayed to the last, fighting with the dagger in his left hand, had his leading officer and friend not slapped the hindquarters of his horse. He had tried his hardest to turn the frightened beast, but without his right arm he could do no more than serve it this way and that, all while losing strength. |
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~On Sporadic Hiatus Until Late December~ Bots- 0 Aeternum Vale- 3 | |
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| Oop | Mar 6 2011, 12:25 AM Post #3 |
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so they scream
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((Have you ever read Eragon, Vale? Just curious. Oh, and Flare will join eventually with a healer-faun character, I do believe, so that should work nicely, so long as your character can survive.)) Long before the arrival of the four-legged-long-snout, Safia could taste the fear. She liked it, for it was right that her meals should fear her. But she also tasted something else on the air, something pungent and intelligent. Intrigued, but not threatened (for it tasted not like sharp-claws-giant-bear or large-pawed-giant-wolf), Safia moved her head in an almost serpentine fashion, swiveling it around to peer at the forest across the expanse of green-sea-grass with her silvery-gray eyes. The four-legged-long-snout tore out of the forest in a frenzy, which pleased Safia, for she knew it could sense her even as she sensed it. Of all things, dragons were proud, and Safia, Moonscales, Starfire, sired by Bjark and birthed by Hrafka, had every reason and right to be proud. So when the round-ears-two-legged fell, and her meal went galloping away, she growled low in throat. And when the two-legged still did not notice her, she grew impatient, for who dared ignore a dragon (even one yet considered a hatchling among its race)? She lifted her massive, scale-covered, glittering head from the sand and let loose a mighty roar, followed by a stream of star-bright-belly-fire. Every animal within earshot of her distinguished cry scattered, and the forest and green-sea-grass came alive with scurrying, yelping, terrified creatures, which helped bolster Safia's already immense pride. That should get the round-ears-two-legged's attention! And then maybe it could provide an amusing chase before Safia made a snack of it and went on after the four-legged-long-snout for a real meal. The wonderful scent of the creature's fear still lingered in her nose despite its flight, and she wanted nothing more than to taste its life-blood as she closed her jaws around its ripe flesh. |
| If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks. | |
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| Aeternum Vale | Mar 6 2011, 06:55 PM Post #4 |
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Overworked
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((Yes I have XD and are you SURE she'll join? lol)) Terror gripped Zayel as the roar shook him to his center and shook the ground beneath him. He was doomed. Yet, death by dragon might have been a real kindness seeing as he was just going to bleed out otherwise. Who was he kidding? Dragon's could be very cruel if the mood struck them, or if they didn't feel properly acknowledged. Perhaps being killed by dragon would be a more noble death than a treacherous ambush? He honestly didn't want to die at only 24 years, the idea scared him, and what would happen to the throne? His father was already sick as it was, and this ambush had surely been a grab for the unsteady crown that sat upon the tired, wrinkled forehead. His thoughts raced faster than his fleeing horse. If he died here, however it was fated to happen, his country may well be tossed into civil war. It occurred to him sharply like the arrow in his shoulder; he didn’t want to die. No, he couldn’t die. Death here could mean the horrible end of a proud, peaceful country by the violence it hated so much. With a dragon breathing down his neck, the soldiers were the least of his worries. He heaved himself up in one final struggle, crying out loudly and angrily. He’d be damned if he’d give up so easily! Now sitting upright he used his good arm to tear the helmet from his head, releasing his hot breath and improving his sight. He stared up at the magnificent, imposing creature before him with golden eyes. His handsome appearance (a slender figure with jet black hair and almost sunlit eyes) were the trademark of his royal blood, for his country—his world—was inhabited by blonds and brunettes with unremarkable eye colors. He panted for breath from his struggle, his face showing more pain than fear thought both were very much present. A strange appearance might mean something to the short lived man, but to the long-lived dragon it would hardly even be noticed. As his hot breath steamed the air in white puffs, he remembered something he was taught long ago. Dragons like riddles. But it had to be a tough one, anything too easy would be seen as an insult and death would follow swiftly. He thought fast. “Dragon!” He proclaimed loudly, trying to keep the shake from his voice, “I have a riddle for you. Would you humor a dying man and hear it, Great Silver Scales?” He winced and shifted his weight, his hand going to the arrow in his back in order to prevent it from jarring him every time he took breath. |
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~On Sporadic Hiatus Until Late December~ Bots- 0 Aeternum Vale- 3 | |
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| Oop | Mar 7 2011, 04:36 PM Post #5 |
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so they scream
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((No, I am not sure. I say we keep going, and if she wants in, she can find a spot to sneak in. ))That she could smell his life-blood draining onto the very-small-rock-sand did nothing to abate her riding lust for violence. Safia was young and not yet well-traveled; riddles more often frustrated her than provided amusement. Her hot blood raced for swift action and racing wind, not slow word-tricks. But the two-legged's bravery (for he did not run and scream in terror, as many of his kind did upon seeing her) intrigued her and his respect pleased her greatly. Lifting her beautiful and graceful bulk from the sand, Safia walked forward, her long, sharp claws dug into the very-small-rock-sand with a faint grinding noise. She lowered her head so that it hovered before the two-legged, turned slightly so that one massive silvery-gray eye surveyed him closely. His scent hung heavy in her nostrils, which she flared, revealing the star-white-belly-fire that flickered inside. Dragons did not speak aloud, but in their minds, and they projected their thoughts to others. "You are brave, for a two-legged," she thought, impressed, pushing it into his consciousness that he might hear her. "But I do not enjoy riddles so much as my kin." They put her in a rather bad temperament, really. She turned her head, sniffing at the man's soot-black-head-grass, which tickled her nose as it lifted in time with her great inhales. She turned her head to survey the two-legged once more. "You smell of fight," she commented, blinking her massive eye - first the inner lid, and then the outer, in quick succession. If he leaked life-blood, he could not have come far from the skirmish or battle. It was not smart to wander through these sharp-clawed-giant-bear and big-pawed-giant-wolf infested places leaking life-blood. Gazing at his eyes reminded Safia of the hot-orange-sky-eye, or of the sweet-crunchy-tree-nests she sometimes ate (though the little-stinging-needle-animals inside sometimes made her tongue itch). She'd not come across many men and let them live long enough to discover the color of their seeing-globes, but these caught her attention for a long while. The two-legged had the eyes of a dragon, luminous and shining, though the black center was small and circular, instead of long and slender. Yet, Safia was done with talk, especially in the tricky language that men spoke. Among dragons, their roars and claws and fangs spoke for them. Her lust for violence, for a hunt, still held her, but she had decided she would not kill the two-legged. He seemed important, and his bravery and courtesy had placated her. For now. Her mouth still watered for the four-legged-long-snout, though. "Farewell, Dragon Eye. May the wind be always at your back." As she spoke, in a sudden impulse, she pressed the front of her nose against the man's forehead, and a great rush of energy-taking-energy-giving-magic surged through her and into the man. It felt like a span of minutes to Safia, but in reality, brief seconds went by as the sharp-two-legged-stinger disintegrated and the man's flesh healed, stopping the leak of his life-blood leaving that mended place stronger than it had been before. Then, with a sudden and powerful down-stroke of her wings, Safia left the break-bone-hard-ground. Another great sweep, and she climbed upward. In this manner she rose, pushing into the sky, until she could level out and begin searching for her prey. ((I actually have ideas for this! I shall PM you.)) Edited by Oop, Mar 7 2011, 04:38 PM.
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| Aeternum Vale | Apr 16 2011, 09:49 PM Post #6 |
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Overworked
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Zayel couldn't help but wince a little as the massive, shimmering giant moved towards him. He opened his eyes one at a time and came face to face with a huge eyeball surveying him. He felt like his heart would give out any second. Then the dragon spoke, or rather thought, to him and snuffled at his hair. It was a strange sensation to be so close to such an awe inspiring creature. Escpecially since he was very aware that she could snap him like a twig. As the dragon spoke to him, he felt almost compelled to explain that he really wasn't brave at all (he had always been the coward of the family), but couldn't find any words now that he was so dwarfed by the dragon's size. The next events happened so quickly he could hardly understand what went on. Just when his head started to spin and his head slipped from the arrow, the great maw of the dragon pressed against his wound and healed it instantly. The wing beats of the dragon taking off for flight matched the steady thump of his heart; he had been cured of his wound entirely! His hand touched where the arrow had once been; once he was certain it was no longer he sprung to his feet and stumbled towards a tree as the last breaths of the dragon's wing rustled the bushes. He was still lighteheaded from the blood loss, but if he could hide himself in a shelter he had a chance to live. He grinned as he leant hap-hazardly against a tree. Being shown such kindness from such a dangerous creature felt like a sure blessing. The gods had to be with him now, so he pushed in a quiet shuffle through the forest until he found a tree with hollowed base beneath its roots. He began to lower himself slowly into the hole, warry of any unwanted creatures that may be lurking in the dark. Then the sudden sound of shouts and hoofbeats quickened his movements and he pressed his back against the wet wood, his head spinning from the movement. Hooves pounded the ground and stopped just before his tree, "Damnit, don't know where the dark-hair went." the rider growled under his breath. Zayel tensed as the man's boots came into view, the man had dismounted. More hoofbeats closed in as the dismounted rider walked closer to the tree. "We'll camp here for the night, there's no sense chasing the one who escaped. He won't have gotten far with that wound." There were grunts in response as more boots came into view. Another pair of boots closed in to the firt man's boots. "Listen." the new man sneered, "If you don't kill the dark-hair, you won't get paid." "Alright, alright! Just put that away, I just said we'd camp here. That doesn't mean we won't search around a little, we've still got some daylight left." "Hn." The second pair of boots stalked off as the first man grumbled obscenitites. "Alright," the first man announced, "Jack, Levt, and Cerose, come with me. The rest of you set up camp here." Zayel closed his eyes, so they were definately out to kill him. But who was paying them? It seemed to be the second man he had heard controlled the payment, but why? There were too many questions and not enough answers. He listened as the four horses galloped off and the remaining men--he guessed at least twelve-- stayed behind and began setting up their camp. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't take on twelve well armed people....could he? The sword he wore poked into his side; he couldn't sit in here all night, as soon as they lit the fire his sword and armor would glow. He took deep breaths, he would have to wait it out as long as he could. ------------- Zayel startled awake hoofbeats thundered into the now completed camp. How long had he been asleep? Too long... the last of the sunlight was slipping from the the dappled forest. "Couldn't find him, but there's a lot of blood on the river bank" it was the first man again "so it's possible he was eaten or tried to swim across and drowned. Agh what the-?!" There was the sounds of a scuffle and swords being drawn before a short silence. "You find his sword and bring it to me as proof, or you don't get paid and you die. Got it?!" The second man again. "We'll search again at daybreak." A third man said, there was another long pause and then everything seemed to calm down. Zayel clenched his jaw angrily, they needed his sword to prove his death to his father. Which meant that whoever this pay-man was was either the one bidding for the throne, or someone who worked for that person. Now that the argument was over the fire would surely be lit, he could just see the stack of wood just feet away from the tree. His heart skipped a beat as he heard the striking of flint stones to make sparks. "You better light that faster Jack, I'm tired of being cold." "Yeah yeah, hang on a second. Ah, there we go." Zayel heard the crackled of fire, and immediatly his sword and armor began to glow, faintly at first but then gaining strength as the fire did. Zayel crushed himself further into the ditch, hoping that it was still light enough that they wouldn't notice the fire-like glow fom beneath the tree. Yet, even if they didn't notcie it now, as soon as the fire grew large enough they would have to blind not to see the glowing markings on his armor and sword. "Hey....what's that over there?" Damnit.... found out already? Two pairs of boots approached the tree. "Do you think it might be gold?" the man whispered. "No...I don't think gold...glows..." This man sounded cautious. Zayel's hand went to his dagger, he wouldn't be able to draw his sword in such a small place. One of the men bent over and gazed with a scruntched up face that soon turned to surprise, but Zayel didn't give him lonf enough to call out. He leapt for the man's throat and slit it as he struggled out of the hole. "He's here! He's here! The bastard's been hiding here all this time!" The other man cried, drawing his sword but keeping his distance from Zayel. "Don't let him draw his sword! It's enchanted!" Finally Zayel was able to match the voice of the pay-master to a face. A face that he knew all too well. Zayel backed up into the tree, his face drained of blood. Surely he was in a nightmare and he would soon awake. The man whom the voice belonged to should have been long dead, and yet here he stood! The initital shock quickly wore off as the other mercenaries began to encirlcle him. His dropped the dagger quickly and went to draw his sword, noticing the archer too late. He cried out as an arrow grazed the back of his hand, giving the nearest man enough time to grab him by the throat. The tip of the man's blade hovered just above his chest. Zayel looked into the walking nightmare's face. It was his cousin, Seth. The scars around his throat told him why he hadn't recognized his cousin's voice. But Zayel remembered those wounds well, Seth should have been dead. If he had known he wouldn't have left Seth behind and now- "Agh....auuh..." Shhhlunk Zayel felt the blade cut into his chest and blood come to his lips as his cousin grinned spitefully at him. "Get his sword." Seth ordered as he watched the contorted expression of Zayel with malice. Zayel felt his sword being slid from its sheath, but could only stare with horror at his cousin's face. Seth simply spat in his cousin's face and tore the sword from his chest, watching with great joy as Zayel collaped into a bleeding heap clutching his wound. "What do I do with this?" One of the men offered Seth the glowing sword. "Strap it to my horse." he said calmly, whiping the blood off his sword using a white cloth. "And what do we do with this? It'll attract wolves." Another man kicked Zayel, rolling him onto his back and making him cry out further. Seth shrugged, "Let him bleed out first. I want to see him die slowly." He turned and crouched beside Zayel, waving the bloodied cloth over his face. "Oh my poor uncle, to think what will happen to him when he finds out his only son has died." He paused and watched Zayel's pained face as his cousin struggled for each breath. "Then again, think how happy he'll be when he realizes his nephew is actually alive." He grabbed Zayel's black hair and pulled it sneering, "Say, is your sister any good looking?" The rest of the men laughed with Seth at this, but quieted down when Seth hushed them. "Did you say something Zayel? Hmm...what was that?" Zayel struggled to speak, but blood had already filled much of his lungs. "I can have your sister? Well, that's very kind of you. Right boys?" Again they all laughed. Seth slapped Zayel on the side of the cheek, "But I think I'll kill her instead, maybe after some nights with her first, eh?" he got to his feet an began to walk away. "Let's feast in celebration lads, you've done well." They all chuckled and began talking, one kicking Zayel in the side before continuing to camp. |
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~On Sporadic Hiatus Until Late December~ Bots- 0 Aeternum Vale- 3 | |
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| Oop | Apr 17 2011, 10:38 AM Post #7 |
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so they scream
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From her position in the never-ceasing-blue, Safia could survey a great deal of the valley below. She witnessed the Dragon-eyed-two-legged disappear into the mass of wing-catching trees and contented herself that, if the magic had worked, then she had done well. Her kind couldn't control the energy-taking-energy-giving flow. Rather, it took effect randomly. That it had worked for the two-legged surprised Safia. Her hunt went well. The four-legged-long-snout, though its smell was less pungent, clattered loudly. It had silvery-shining-human-scales that made much noise and it's iron-bound hooves made deep gorges in the soft earth. She found it almost immediately after taking wing, but it did not satisfy her as she had expected. It's red-flesh was not tender, but rather very stringy. She ate and moved on to find more appetizing prey. Some while later, her fire-carrying-hot-belly full, she returned to the river to drink and sleep. However, just as she made to settle into the sun-warmed sand, the familiar scent of life-blood drew her to the forest. For a long while, the two-legged-round-ears had been skulking about, searching for something. Safia had been content to ignore them, as she'd quenched her killing lust for the time being. However, this was the second time in one day she'd smelled two-legged-life-blood, and it tickled her nose with familiarity. Interest piqued, with one great leap, she took to the air, soaring low over the wing-catching branches as she followed the scent. When she found the humans, she had to circle overhead several times before she could clearly understand what was happening. Dragon Eyes lay on the ground, again leaking life-blood, which infuriated her. He had the energy of a dragon coursing through his veins, and he could not defend himself? She had spared him, and these other two-legged-round-ears would dare to harm him? Loosing a great, furious roar, Safia tucked her wings tightly so that the wing-catchers would not harm her. Heavily, she landed on the ground, crushing even trees with her massive bulk. Her front left paw landed upon one of the two-legged-round-ears, and the feel of his bones being crushed beneath her weight complemented her suddenly sour mood. In a frenzy, she tore at the two-leggeds. One she clamped her massive jaws around, each gleaming tooth piercing him through the middle like so many two-legged-iron-sticks. His blood stained her tongue, and the rich flavor incited her blood-lust. She dropped the man, moving to the next. Her great tail swept out behind her, catching a man and sending him flying toward a tree. As he hit, screaming, his spine made a delicious pop, broken. Safia, beginning to enjoy the slaughter, caught one two-legged by one of his small paws, one of her gleaming talons pierced through the appendage, and roasted him in his armor. At first, Safia forgot about the life-blood-leaking Dragon Eyes, simply caught up in the thrill of torturing those who would disrespect her: she had deemed Dragon Eyes worthy to live, and they would kill him. She would not tolerate it. However, when she remembered him, she took a protective stance before him, snarling. When she had effectively wiped out more than half of the two-legged-round-ear's forces in but a handful of seconds, she loosed yet another furious roar, the blood of her victims flying from her maw like dense rain. She continued growling low in her throat, hoping that the remaining two-leggeds would flee, though she longed to sink her fangs through them and pierce them with her claws and tear them into shreds. But Dragon Eyes was becoming pale and loosing much life-blood. Impatient, Safia shot a streak of star-bright-belly-fire, creating a blisteringly hot line between herself, still couched before Dragon Eyes, and the remaining two-leggeds. She then turned her attention toward the man from earlier. "You wasted my gift," she said, baring her bloody fangs at him in annoyance. She knew that the magic would not work again, and so she hovered over him, thinking for a moment. Finally, she took the two-legged, awkwardly cradled in the curves of her front claws, sat back on her haunches, and then pushed off from the break-bone-hard ground with enough for to simultaneously leave humongous gouges in the dirt and to spring through the entrapment of the wing-catchers. Safia angled due east from the forest, flying hard. She passed the Niena River and kept flying until she came upon a road she had spotted during her previous hunt. Scanning it, she found a small caravan of brightly-covered-two-leggeds (gypsies, were they called?) traveling. Unable to exchange the energy to save Dragon Eyes, she would have to rely on other two-leggeds to do so, though she disliked the thought of relying on anything but herself. Landing took a great deal of skill. She alighted crouched on her back legs, very similar to how she had taken off. The four-legged-long-snouts pulling the traveling-huts started, and the two-legged-round-ears present gaped at her. She carefully set Dragon Eyes down on the green-sea-grass. "Do what you can for him," she pressed into their minds. "I will reward you." She waited impatiently for her orders to be followed, shuffling her wings. ((Bah. Fail.)) Edited by Oop, Apr 24 2011, 02:24 PM.
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| Aeternum Vale | Apr 24 2011, 01:59 AM Post #8 |
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Overworked
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The burst of great destruction only slightly soured Seth's mood. As the fearsome dragon tore at the useless mercenaries, he grabbed the enchanted sword from a stunned man and nodded for his personal archer to follow him. Seth wasn't skilled at many things, but he was a brilliant horse rider. It took him only moments to capture one of the the spooked steeds that had been loosed from their ties by the burst of dragon fire, and even less time to catch another one which his archer promptly mounted. They flew away from the gore and screams in a thunder of hooves. Seth grinned to himself, he wouldn't have to pay them now and he still had the enchanted sword that would crown him king. --------------------------------------- The glow of Zayel's armor faded as the screaming men trampled over the fire to escape, and flared with Safia's burst of inferno. Zayel's breaths came with blood licking over his lips and his eyes were closed. The noises around him were faint, but Safia's roar still pierced him to the core. It was the last thing he heard before the darkness of his eyelids engulfed him into the silent vaccuous space of unconsciousness. ------------------------------------- At first the Gypsies were too stunned to move or speak, a few dropped items were scattered about their feet. The rainbow clothed people seemed reluctant to approach Zayel's limp body. Whispers ran amongst the group as they eyed his hair; even with the shadow of a dragon looming over them (and the promise of a reward) they seemed to be disturbed by Zayel enough to keep their distance. One of the girls pushed her way through the crowd and knelt beside Zayel. She touched his forehead and brushed some hair from his face. She hesitated, a gasp caught in her throat, and looked up at Safia. "Dragon, before I save this man." She yelled loudly, the gypsies behind her shifting uneasily, "Do you know what he is? You ask a great thing of us to help him..." "Shana, get away from him!" someone hissed lowly from the crowd, "Helping him would only bring us great misfortune!" “What, what? What’s all this, someone tell me so that I may see.” An old, gnarled woman, her back bent with age, shuffled forward and felt her way to Shara. “A dragon has asked for our aid, it would be very rude not to do all we can.” “Old Thasa he is a Dark One! There would be curses on our heads if we helped him!” Came a man’s warning voice. “Ohhh? A Dark One?” the old woman’s friendly demeanor darkened and her smiled dropped, “Is the dragon above us Ferax?” “No, the dragon is silver white.” Said Shana, before any of the other’s could speak. “But it’s a dark hair!” A young woman cried. “Ahhh….” Old Thasa murmured as she hovered her hand over Zayel’s chest, her knobby hands shaking with age. “You will heal this one Shana, but tie this around his neck.” She pulled a necklace of black leather from her multicolored shawls and handed it—much to the chagrin of the others—to Shana. “I’ll have a word with the Great Dragon about what she has done by asking for him to be saved.” Shana nodded and took a knife to Zayel’s armor, slitting the leather bindings at the sides so that she could uncover the wound in his chest. “Thasa, this wound is bad, I don’t think he’ll-“ “Hush child, he will make it if you concentrate hard enough. Now work quickly before he slips away.” The old woman began to walk away. “Thasa….” A man broke from the crowd and grabbed the blind woman’s arm firmly, “Have you lost your mind? Dark One’s should never be healed!” Old Thasa patted his hand reassuringly, “Now, now, Paas. I believe the dragon above us has already healed him once before. All we can do now is slow the process and limit his strength. I can feel that he has a good heart…he may be strong enough to overcome his cursed birth.” Paas grumbled and released his grip, stalking back into the crowd. Old Thasa’s words had set everyone more at ease, but not by much. “Great Dragon, Shana has already asked you if you know what this man is, but I am sure that you do not know. Your choice to heal him has made him your responsibility, for better or for worse. If you lend me an ear I will tell you what I saw with my now blind eyes many years ago.” |
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~On Sporadic Hiatus Until Late December~ Bots- 0 Aeternum Vale- 3 | |
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| Oop | Apr 24 2011, 02:21 PM Post #9 |
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so they scream
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Their talking and hesitation infuriated Safia. Already she grew impatient, and yet the two-leggeds would stand around talking, ignoring her directly? They feared curses on their heads? Well, they'd have no heads at all if they continued to treat Safia in such a manner. She growled low in her throat, the sound like a rumbling sky-roar, growing in intensity as her anger simmered. Adrenaline still rushed through her veins. It took a great deal of will to keep her from tearing the brightly-colored-two-leggeds to ribbons. Never had she expected to find such insolence, such disgrace, among a race so much inferior than her own. Her top lip pulled back in a snarl as the old woman addressed her. "You presume much, for a two-legged," she hissed, lowering her face to be before the old woman, her belly-fire-warmed breath hot, moist, and smelling of fresh blood. "What know you of a dragon's responsibilities, two-legged?" If she hadn't known something that Safia didn't, then the dragon would have eliminated the unseeing-two-legged-elder for her impudence and condescension right then. Safia concluded to herself that she would listen to the unseeing-two-legged-elder, and then, if she continued to show disrespect, eat her. "Tell me, then, for I grow impatient with your kind and your circular words." These round-ears-two-leggeds, they were pitiful and unintelligent creatures, cowering at things intangible and daring to refuse a dragon fresh from battle, blood still dripping from her mighty maw. Edited by Oop, Apr 24 2011, 02:22 PM.
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| If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks. | |
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| Aeternum Vale | May 8 2011, 01:19 AM Post #10 |
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Overworked
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"By healing this man, you have released the Dragon Seal upon him. The only seal that remains is ours, but that will be gone soon as well. I will tell you how all this came to be, and what it means. A long time ago there were dark dragons who sought to rule over all races, including other dragons who refused to take up their cause. At first the dark dragons were easily outnumbered and pushed back by a league of races, but then they learned to transcend. Only the strongest were able to survive the process. Their hides blackened, and their eyes turned to gold, setting them apart from the others. But what really set them apart were the powers they gained. In the blink of an eye they could change their form into any of the races, making it almost impossible to tell friend from foe. The transcended dragons were called the Ferax. It wasn't long before the world was thrown into chaos, but good still had the upper hand over evil. There was a major flaw in their shape shifting, their gold eyes and black skin or hair gave them away. When the Ferax seemed all but beaten, they figured out something much more deadly. They learned how to cast off all defense for merciless offense, or to throw away offense for a nearly impenetrable defense. Many beings died before the Ferax were defeated. It was a few Elven wizards found out how they may be overcome, but only humans and dragons had the means and power to do this. The Ferax could be trapped by the combination of human and dragon magic in one any of their forms. So we banded together and trapped them as humans. You may be wondering why we didn't just kill them in a weak form rather than seal them away. That is because a wise, gold dragon beheld a prophecy that a Ferax would be needed to destroy a greater evil. I believe this young man could very well be the one." The old woman paused for a long breath, and re-arranged her shawls, "I am the great-great-great-granddaughter of the human wizards who helped seal the Ferax into powerless human forms. The dragons sealed away their powers, and we trapped them in human form and erased their memories. We couldn't have foreseen that their human form would inspire other humans to revere them, and cause them to become cruel kings and queens." She laughed, "Perhaps no amount of spells can truly erase all memories for it was my people, the people who sealed them away and fought the hardest amongst the humans against them, who were the first to be stripped of all possessions and cast out of their kingdoms." The Gypsies watched with still uneasy eyes as Shana worked on Zayel. She had quickly looped the leather necklace around his neck before she pressed her hands on the wound. Blood turned her dainty fingers crimson and dripped down the slow breathing chest to further soak the dark blue shirt. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She could feel his life as a faint orb in the darkness; he was already too far gone. She wet her lips, “Thasa, I can’t heal him. He’s already in the land of death. I…” The old woman smiled knowingly with he back to Shana. Suddenly Zayel’s eyes burst open and with an explosion of life he sat up. Shana and the other Gypsies gasped, and as she pressed him to the ground she couldn’t help but want to run. His piercing gold eyes seemed to stab through her like a sharp blade and caused primal fear to rise within her, he was as frightening as a moonless night in a forest without a fire for comfort. She also felt compelled to heal him; the tug of fear and the pull of wanting to help made her feel sick. Before she could even think about starting to heal him, he closed his eyes. Then, as she reached for his miraculously stronger life force, she felt a presence help her close the wound and bring him back from the lips of death’s kiss. "Thasa, it's done." She got up shakily and returned to the shuddering group. Thasa nodded gravely, "I just hope that if he is not the one to help us, that necklace with restrain him enough to kill." |
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~On Sporadic Hiatus Until Late December~ Bots- 0 Aeternum Vale- 3 | |
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| Oop | May 14 2011, 08:23 AM Post #11 |
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so they scream
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Of course Safia had heard of the shape-shifting-dragons before. They were tales that older dragons told to hatchlings, saying that if they ever got too selfish, they would lose their beautiful color and become a rank of the Ferax, the forever-hated-ones. She had never heard it told from a round-ears-two-legged's perspective, though, so she listened attentively. Usually, old tales bored her, but as she had made herself a part of this one, she was wise enough to know that she should listen. When the unseeing-two-legged-elder concluded, Safia turned her great head minutely to examine the round-ears-two-legged that she had saved. Perhaps he is the prophesied one. That would explain why the magic worked. She watched attentively as the human girl healed Dragon Eyes. It was strange, but Safia did not know much of healing. She felt an odd twitch in her chest as his wound closed, but ignored it. When the healing-two-legged-female stepped away, Safia moved forward, lowering her nose to Dragon Eye's head. She smelled him, then exhaled greatly, his hair blowing back like it would in a strong gale. "I know little of two-leggeds desires. What is it you want for doing this?" She hated to ask, because then it would be expected of her to do it, but she didn't want to offend the round-ears-two-leggeds or sully her own reputation by giving too little of a gift. She was young for her kind, and proud, but she was not stupid. Safia did not know what her attachment to this black-head-grass human was, but she felt a pressing need to protect him, which infuriated her. No human was worth the time and consideration of a dragon, and yet there she was, hovering protectively over him, offering more to humans for a human - not even for herself. It was enough to make her nose crinkle with distaste. But she had made this nest, and she would sleep in it. |
| If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks. | |
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| Aeternum Vale | May 22 2011, 09:25 PM Post #12 |
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Overworked
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Thasa motioned for the other gypsies to gather their things up for they would be on the road again soon. "All that we ask, dragon, is that you take him to the far Crag Mountains as quickly as possible. There is a man there, a mage, who will know what to do next. But if you'd really like to repay us, come back and find me when the granite river flows backwards. Now go! Quickly quickly! Don't give the dark-one long to ponder his origin." She rearranged her sashes and then set off towards the sound of deliberate tapping on the side of a wagon. The gypsies moved away slowly, the road ahead of them seemed constantly inhospitable. Zayel opened his golden eyes slowly and began to focus on the scarf of night that slowly wound its way around the land. Wind ruffled his hair, or was it wind? He closed his eyes, this felt strangely warm and familiar. His lips murmmered something, and his mind took awhile to catch up, "Dragon," he had said. He opened his eyes and gasped in cooling night-air. Air. He was breathing. He was alive! As his eyes soaked in the starry night sky, his hand went to his open shirt and touched his chest. There was no gaping wound, not even a trace of blood. He sat up and looked at the dazzling world with fresh appreciation, a smile of relief on his lips. Everything was so intensely beautiful until he remembered everything. Why wasn't he dead? His cousin Seth had slid a rib cracking sword deep into his chests. AH! And now that bastard was on his way to High Kingdom to take the crown! His eyes finally fell on the grand dragon, and the gypsies leaving over the horizon. "Dragon," He breathed, "How can I thank you? It seems you've saved my life more than once-" He paused and glanced around, "Where are the mercernaries and..." he felt his side and found no sword, so Seth had taken it... |
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~On Sporadic Hiatus Until Late December~ Bots- 0 Aeternum Vale- 3 | |
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| Oop | Jun 11 2011, 01:23 PM Post #13 |
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so they scream
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((Wow. Delayed response. I forgot how much I love this RP already, though. It should be no problem keeping up from here on out!))Not for the first time, Safia regarded Dragon Eyes. His night-black-head-grass, his angular features. It was hard for her to imagine his ancestors as dragons, but she believed the old-wise-two-legged. In return for their kindness, they wanted this human taken to the Crag Mountains, nearly on the other side of the big-land, on a small island in the never-ending-water. It was a trip that Safia wasn't sure she wanted to make. Certainly, she could - the distance was no great feat for a dragon of her age, but she had never been far from her mountain home, and so it would be strange. Yet, she had given her word, and her pride bound her to it, no matter how much it grated her scales to have to do so. "We've quite a journey to make, you and I." She set her massive paw next to him. He was barely bigger than one of her razor sharp talons. "Climb up, and we shall begin." She disregarded his question about the mercenaries -- whatever those were. The soldiers, she supposed -- of that hateful round-ears-two-legged. He could worry about such things when Safia had completed her task. She'd never been indebted to another creature before, and it put her in a fickle mood to have had to have asked for help. From two-leggeds, especially. "Do not make me wait for you," Safia growled, baring her fangs impatiently. |
| If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks. | |
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| Aeternum Vale | Jun 15 2011, 11:22 PM Post #14 |
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Overworked
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A journey? Confusion swirled around Zayel like the leaves of autumn. Then the confusion settled and he came to the conclusion that the dragon must be taking him back to his kingdom to prevent Seth's treachery. But he decided to make absolutely sure, just in case. "Are you taking me to High Kingdom?" His look became serious, despite the tremendous danger of being seen as challenging to a dragon. But he couldn't back down on this matter, if he didn't get to High Kingdom quickly, chaos would rain fire upon innocent people. He got to his feet and held eye contact with the dragon. "We're going to High Kingdom, I have to stop the coup before it starts." He pointed at the last traces of light on th horizon, "Many people will die if I don't stop this before it starts." |
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~On Sporadic Hiatus Until Late December~ Bots- 0 Aeternum Vale- 3 | |
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| Oop | Jun 16 2011, 05:23 PM Post #15 |
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so they scream
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Safia's growled became a menacing rumbling in her throat that shook the earth beneath her as the defiant human dared tell her what to do. With a hiss, angry steam billowed from her flared nostrils. She had to admit, though, that Dragon Eyes had a dragon's heart to match. Perhaps not a dragon's brain, though. If he weren't possibly the answer to a long-awaited-future-seeing, Safia would eat him for his insolence. She had half a mind to do so anyway. In one swift movement, she had the freshly healed two-legged under one of her massive paws, claws curled around him like bars to a prison, one poised just over his throat as a threatening spear. "You listen to me, two-legged. You can come with me willingly, or I can take you there missing a few nonessential pieces. Where we are going is the Crag Mountains, where I will find out if you are worthy to live or not." Her talons tightened around him as she spoke, her fury building. She snarled at Dragon Eyes, letting lose a roar that was probably near deafening to him. "Then you may go to your High Kingdom. Perhaps, if we leave quickly, you can make it there in time to witness the destruction that your own kinds wreaks upon itself." Safia had no patience, and certainly no sympathy, for the two-legged-round-ears. They were like little, bickering insects, only less organized. They killed each other mindlessly, always seeking control and power. There was no honor in such killing. When dragons killed other dragons, it was for breeding rights or to defend territory where game was scarce. Even so, they rarely fought to the death. Whether the defeated combatant killed themselves out of shame, well, that was a different matter, though still highly frowned upon. "Your kind are like cockroaches; they do not die easily. They will survive until your return, I am certain. Now, will you come willingly, or must I break off your legs to keep you from running away?" She fixed the human in one of her storm-cloud-colored eyes, the cat-like pupil made narrower with her anger. Hopefully the two-legged knew better than to think she was bluffing, because Safia did not make threats that she would not carry through. Edited by Oop, Jun 16 2011, 05:24 PM.
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