Agni

The orgional flambebes have arrived



“There’s so much crazy stuff happening around here... why are there so many undead???”


The sandy ashed ground shifted beneath his claws. He had been travelling for days to reach the smouldering neighboring land of his deity home. With each step he could smell the taint of blood, of magic; of shade. His nose was his guide to the new world. It made him swim the gap, walk over mountains, cross lava flows and caught him in some minor fights. He knew he was getting closer with each step, a destination of unknown.

Before his time wandering the surface, he was once a mighty member of the keepers that watched the lesser shades imprisoned. The monsters were slow but cunning, always thinking of ways to escape the order. He had seen first hand of what the shade could do, the raw power they processed as they ripped out a lonesome gaolar guard face apart. There’s reasons as to why the Icewarden wanted them gone. They needed to be contained and destroyed; simple. When the order broke however, he knew his time guarding the shades cells were over. He took this opportunity to seek the call in his nose. He didn’t know why it was so important to follow. It would warm him to core with each sniff, as if something was missing inside of him. With a final goodbye to the last members of the order, he stepped out into the snow blinding light and headed towards the smell.

He knew he had made it to his destination when the smell suddenly vanished. He stood in a giant creator surrounded by towering walls. It was evident just by its eerily quiet appearance that something bad had happened here. The rustic ground flowed through his claws swirling smells of pain. He walked around, finding small trinkets of bone and rusted metal laying lowly in the sand. With each item gathered more and more smell of the fade entered his mind. He buried the forgotten items once more and sniffed the air. A new trail emerged in his mind. With his newfound drive and knowledge, he headed out once more.

He came to a halt outside of a hanging sign reading ‘clan Boltninja’. He walked around it and headed through the houses streets. Everything was silent, almost as if it was deserted. Hear could smell them, they were hear... perhaps they went hunting? That’s when he heard a sharp “NOW” Call behind him. He turned around to see a swarm of dragons fully armoured charging at him. He stood his ground in the now crowded streets, bearing teeth and claws. Two guardians appeared in front of him and the gray guardian shouted “beast, if you have intelligence speak now or die.” “My nose has lead me here guardian. If you want fight then so be it.” The gray one flinched and roared as he started to change but was stopped by the orange winged guardian. “Relax Scivil this things intelligent. Hell its probably some mutated tundra or beastclan experiment gone rogue.” They gray one, Scivil, backed down and approached with a lowered head. “I mean you no harm... big horned tundra. The names Granith. No offence but our scouts saw you doing weird stuff in the creator and we assumed you would be of no intelligence.” He made a ‘humph’ sound. “I am no tundra. I am one of the first creations of the Icewarden. A gaolar. We have been catching the shade for years in secret... but now we must protect the surface even more.” The guardians looked shocked. “Sooo... there’s more types of dragons?” “Yes. There will be more antients.” By now the rest of the defenders had scattered and gone back to daily life jobs. “Listen Gaolar... follow us.” And he did so.

He was lead back to the creator and stood above it, looming over the land. The two guardians, Granith and Scivil, told him to sit with them. The two looked at each other, having a silent conversation, before Granith spoke. “You said your nose lead you here. What smells are you... well smelling?” He brought sand to his face and watched it tumble back to the ground. “I smell blood. Lots of it. I smell the shade but it’s old. There was far more of it in your clan then here. I smell fear.” Scivil made a humming noise. “Before us... before many establishments, there was a nesting ground here. Many types of dragons of different fire eyed subspecies lived here in harmony; that is until the harpies attacked. Have you meet any harpies?” He shook his head. “You’ll meet some soon. I told them to evacuate until it was safe. They’re sentient birds and most are mad at dragon kind for taking their land. They were the ones that slaughtered so many all those years ago. They killed the guards, the mothers, the eggs. Nothing spared.” He looked back at the canyon, now truely understanding the smells. “You know.” Granith spoke up. “There’s a subspecies called Flambebes... you kinda look like one! Perhaps you have an ancestry link.” “I have seen these tundras before, they smell like us to an extent but still covered in shade.” They went silent when shade was brought up. “You know of the shade don’t you.” Granith sighed. “Yes. All too much. To cut a story short, the beastclans may have an allience with them or at least the group we fought.” “Then I must stay. That is my life.” The two guardians looked at eachother once more before carefully saying, “Some of our clan mates are... special.” “Say it.” “They’re probably shade touched. Some residents are straight up undead, some have undead familiars, some can talk to deities; there’s a big list. If you stay you can’t attack these residents... but I’m all for attacking anyone else as long as it goes through one of us.” You could see him thinking. He needed to stay, this clan needed his protection considering all the crazy stuff that they mentioned happening. There was also the factor of his nose driving him mad anyway. “Granith, Scivil. I will not harm them. Let me stay and protect you.” “Granith gleamed and Scivil started walking back to the clan. “Yes! You’ll love it here! Well clear out one of our storage homes.” With that they went back with him being the newest member of clan Boltninja.


———

“Granith.” “Yes?” “What type of eyes did Agni have when he arrived?” “....white?” “Oh dear.” “Dare I ask?” “They’re primaled.” “Primaled iced?” “No. Primaled fire.” “Wow Flamecallers acting fast. Should we see if she wants to talk to us?” “Nope. I bet she talked to him.” “Can’t believe she’s stealing Icewardens kids.” “To be fair she stole the Flambebes.” “Oh. she so stole him flight cause of his orange horns.” “Oh absolutely.”