Kahraala

general (dnd) clan: started 2/29/2020
Ludca Former mate

"Try to find a price I wouldn't pay for what I want."

male xxy white/ruby wraith tert nature eyes, mate = x
female xxy white/obsidian wraith tert fire eyes = x
male xxy white/obsidian skeletal tert fire eyes = x
female xxy obsidian/white ghost tert = x
female xyy jungle/emerald arrow secondary = x
female charcoal primary wraith tert fire eyes = x (ready)
male xxy or xyy obsidian tert ice eyes, blind = x
female xyy dust/obsidian trimmings tert = x

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Ice crept along her wings, weighing them down with translucent crystals that pulled her from the sky. Kahraa'la was lucky: she was not hit directly by the blast. Most of the dragons at the back of the formation were spared the frigid deaths of their brethren unfortunate enough to have been placed in front. Their entire bodies congealed and dropped from the sky, one by one by one. Some plunged into deep waters, sinking all the way to the bottom where untold Horrors lurked. Others collided mercilessly with the ground, shattering into a thousand uneven pieces. The ill-fated plunged into bubbling lava pools. Gaoler Ice melted too slowly, and Kahraa'la watched her brothers and sisters in arms burn alive.

Despite how desperately she tried to fly, to maintain the advantage of flight, her wings were completely engulfed and far too heavy. She fell. Using what little control she had left, Kahraa'la tucked her wings close to keep them from shattering as he fell down, down, down. Her side collided with the rocky mountains of the Blacksand Annex. Glimmering pieces of ice chipped away from her wings as she continued her descent, tumbling down without grace.

Around her, more and more of her fellow Banescale fell. A few died on impact. Others were just like her: clinging desperately to life and fight even when everything had left.

An older, and more experienced fighter dropped beside Kahraa'la. Her left wing was completely torn, and her right wing so badly damaged that even if the ice thawed, she would still never be able to move them again. Yet, despite her injuries, the fighter kept trying to stand, scorching flames bursting from her mouth in a violent rage. The heat was so intense that the encroaching Gaolers backed away, stomping their feet and swinging their horns about in a display of aggression that failed to deter the dragon.

Survivors of the fall joined her efforts in keeping the invading Gaolers at bay. Mages let loose a barrage of arcane energy, called down lightning, summoned cutting winds. Fighters sank fangs and claws into their enemies, swung their tails like bats and impaled flesh upon their horns. The dying grappled the closest Gaolers and in a final act of duty, dragged themselves and the Gaolers into lava.

Kahraa'la knew why they were fighting so desperately. The inexorable rage that possessed her brethren consumed her too, the second she realised where the Gaolers were marching towards. The Searing Springs. An alcove tucked away deep within the Annex, protected by the elders. The Banescale nesting grounds. Her talons clutched solid ground, boring grooves into gravel.

"The hatchlings!" cried a hysterical Mage as he was struck with a fatal blow. "Protect the hatchlings."

That one word sent Kahraa'la into a frenzy. Ludca was inside the Springs, playing with his fellow hatchlings. He was so young, not even old enough to fly yet. Kahraa'la's son. Her baby boy. Just the thought of one of these Ice barbarians seeing him, hurting him, was more than enough to give Kahraa'la the strength she needed.

She charged, fury in her screams and her claws.

It was a bloodbath. She lost count of how many fell to her rage and the fierce desire to protect her son. No matter how hard she fought, though, there were just too few Banescales left. The Gaolers sustained heavy losses after the magic that killed so many of Kahraa'la's brethren, but the Banescales were dwindling. They were tired. They were spent. They were exhausted.

The fanatical desire to keep the Gaolers out of the Searing Springs could not sustain her forever, though. Kahraa'la was forced back. One step after another, retreating further and further into the cave as the Gaolers encroached. The few elders protecting the hatchlings snarled and flared their wings open in a futile display of intimidation. Several juveniles even launched their own attacks, fueled only by the need to survive.

They were cut down.

And Kahraa'la was all out of rage to give. No strength left to give. It was all she could do to stand in front of her precious Ludca, shielding him from any who dared come close. But Kahraa'la was tired. So, so tired. More and more Gaoler mages poured inside the Springs, spreading more Ice that cooled even the infernal heat of the Springs.

Kahraa'la was frozen alive.

Ice encased her entire body. From her talons to her tail, from the tips of her broken, mangled wings to the scream glaciated halfway up her throat. The thick coating of ice over her wings dragged Kahraa'la onto the ground. She unable to even die standing.

And she had to watch as the hatchlings stilled.

Everything got even colder. Were Kahraa'la not already caged inside a solid block of ice, she would have shivered. It was wrong, seeing snowflakes flutter in the air of the Searing Springs. The craggy ground was blanketed in white. Nothing but white white white and the lethargic movements of the hatchlings.

'This is the end,' thought Kahraa'la. For if the Gaolers found the hatchling, then they surely have found the eggs as well. It was over.

Ludca slumped before her. He made a soft, cooing noise that Kahraa'la could hear even in her icy prison as he nuzzled his head against her neck. If only Kahraa'la wasn't frozen, her natural body heat would have run hot enough for him to warm himself. Barring that, Kahraa'la at least wanted to feel him. To curl herself around him and cover him with her wings and sing him to sleep.

Tell him that everything was going to be okay.

The Gaolers filed out of the cavernous Springs. There was nothing left for them to destroy here. One caught Kahraa'la's eye. Young, strong, with monstrous yellow eyes. He carried with him jewels and heirlooms, hoisted high upon his horns like war trophies.

Kahraa'la remembered him, for he smirked at his victory over a helpless nest full of hatchlings and juveniles. But she could no longer muster the energy to be angry. They lost: she accepted that. All she wanted now was to rest. Be with Ludca and follow him into nothingness.

Ludca was quiet now. His chest moved up and down slowing bit by bit. Until it stopped. He was still.

Dead.

But Kahraa'la was not. Whoever had frozen her made a mistake: Kahraa'la still lived. Though she cannot move a single inch of her body, she retained her consciousness. And she had to watch. Seconds turned to minutes to hours to days. Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Months. Kahraa'la had to sit there trapped in ice and watch as her baby Ludca was feasted upon by vermin until he was nothing but bones. Then she had to watch his bones turn to dust. Until there was nothing left of him in this world. And Kahraa'la was all alone.

For years, and years, and years, kept barely alive by cursed Gaoler magic. Preserved against her will. As time ticked by and the ages passed, even someone as proud and fierce as Kahraa'la broke in the torture of her isolation. She went mad. The frozen remains of the Searing Springs slowly melted away, giving birth to a small pool of new lava. The heat licked and lapped at the walls of the alcove, thawing more ice, and slowly rejuvenating the home that the Banescales had lost. As the alcove grew hotter, once again burning with a heat that only the rare few can withstand, the Searing Springs bubbled to life. Lava pools broke through the icy ground, spreading over the alcove. The block of ice imprisoning Kahraa'la unfroze, bit by bit.

A smoldering heat that she had not felt in centuries surged through her veins. Were she released a few years earlier, perhaps the lava wouldn't have hurt her so. But she was weakened, trapped in ice for so long that her body had forgotten what fire tasted like.

The silence that had befallen the Springs for so long shattered with Kahraa'la's primal, guttural scream.

From deep within the boiling pools of lava, Kahraa'la crawled out. Glowing rivulets of lava shimmered between her scales; her wings, already damaged from her battle with the Gaolers all those years ago, doubly frozen for an eternity, withered and died. They were still mostly whole, despite the chipped edges from the ice and the burns she now suffered, but they were weak. Useless. It took everything Kahraa'la had to use the vestiges of her wings to haul herself onto dry ground, heaving from the exertion. Then Kahraa'la dragged herself to her feet.

For the first time in centuries, the Searing Springs spat out yet another Banescale, forged with pain and baptised in fire. Distantly, she remembered what it felt like to spread her wings, let the thermal updrafts from far below launch her and her brethren into the air. It felt like another life. Now, when she forced herself to leave the Blacksand Annex, she did not take to the skies. She did not have her brothers and sisters beside her. There was no joy or proud looks from the elders as a new generation of Banescales entered the world.

There were no other Banescales. Kahraa'la was the last one, a survivor by chance, driven mad by centuries of unnatural life. And instead of flying like she once proudly did, Kahraa'la had to crawl. She had to scale down the Annex with wings and claws, gripping onto the mountainside with her entire body still burning raw. Everything was gone now. Her home. Her kind. Her Ludca. Her precious Ludca. Kahraa'la had nothing left in this world. Nothing to tether her to life. But still, she kept going. Something in her broken mind refused to die. A voice that only grew louder and louder with each passing day.

Kahraa'la pulled herself down the mountain. She pulled herself out of the Flamecallers domain. She trudged through the electrifying deserts of the Stormcatcher and through the Lightweaver's ruins. Driven only by the deep-seated need to survive, Kahraa'la followed food wherever it was plentiful. Any animal she found, she hunted. And any dragon that came across her, she killed. Although Kahraa'la survived the Gaoler attack all those years ago, the thing that came out of the Searing Springs was no Banescale.

It was a creature of unfathomable rage, surging with wild, untamed magic. Kahraa'la died with her son. Whatever came out of the Springs was something else entirely. Less dragon, more beast. A vicious animal that wandered along the continent, destroying anything and everything in its path with no remorse. There was no room in its heart for pity or mercy. It no longer had a heart. Just anger. Just desire. It was ruthless, feral, savage.

And it was searching for something.

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