Creative Corner

[columns][img]https://i.postimg.cc/1R6kJZn9/left-hori.png[/img][nextcol][center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen][u]THE BARGHESTS[/u][/b][/size][/center] [center][size=5] [b][font=sylfaen]A LINEAGE AND LORE PROJECT [/b][/size][/center][nextcol][img]https://i.postimg.cc/287PNF7M/right-hori.png[/img][/columns] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3JDsYpL.png[/img][/center] [center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/2834947/1#post_2834947]Main [/url]| [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1]Lore Book[/url] | [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/3271214#post_3271214]Registry and Registration [/url] | [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/2834947/1#post_42602106]Breeding Pairs[/url] |[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/2834947/1#post_42602108] Pinglists[/url] | [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/2834947/1#post_42602109]Templates[/url] | [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/2834947/1#post_42602117]Affiliates[/url][/center] [center] [pinglist=24355][/center] [center][size=3][font=sylfaen] Please add yourself to the pinglist if you would like to receive lore updates.[/center] -------- [center][size=5] [b][font=sylfaen]OFFICIAL LORE BOOK [/b][/size][/center] ----- [columns][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=58152644] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/581527/58152644_350.png[/img] [/url][nextcol] [size=3][font=sylfaen]This is a collection of tales found in the books of Sister Inghinn. The brittle pages open before you, black ink illuminated by candle light as you begin to read. The first page contains a short index of featured chapters. I N D E X: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1#post_42196774]Chapter I: An Unyielding Fog [/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1#post_42196777]Chapter II: The Wishing Well [/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1#post_42196778]Chapter III: The Red River [/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1#post_42196779]Chapter IV: Sleeping Sands[/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1#post_42196782]Chapter V: The Vault of Kings[/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1#post_42196783]Chapter VI: Beyond the Moors[/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1#post_42196785]Chapter VII: The Shattered Mirror[/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/1#post_42196802]Chapter VII: The Lord's Light[/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/2#post_42196809]Chapter VIII: Additional Tales[/url] [/columns] [columns][size=3][font=sylfaen]In addition so Sister Inghinn's tales, brother Rowan has kept tract of information collected during their travels. He has compiled several guides designed to help better understand the Barghests as well as the myriad of unusual places and objects associated with their appearances. G U I D E S & A C C O U N T S: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/2#post_42196818]Guide I: Locations[/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/2#post_42196840]Guide II: Artifacts [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/2#post_42196842]Guide III: Eye Lore[/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2818759/2#post_42196844] Guide IV: Hatching Lore | Letters [nextcol] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=59388144] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/593882/59388144_350.png[/img] [/url][/columns] [size=3][font=sylfaen]A final note to readers: some of these tales are dark and contain brief mentions of violence and character death. I have refrained from including any graphic details as per site rules, but if there is anything you find unsettling that you feel should be moved off site, please let me know so I can post those tales in a separate document. Many thanks!

[center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]INTRODUCTION[/b][/size][/center] ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Among a myriad of dark fairytales, words paint an image of claws tapping silently against the earth - a creature with jagged teeth and breath like fog. Some say that such beasts appear in dreams to lure the sleeping from their beds in the night. Others believe that they were once mortals, their forms shifted and contorted under the moonlight. They are known by many names, but one rings out among the legends. Barghest. Created from witch-magic, the Barghest curse runs through the blood of Imperials, transmitted or passed down through the generations via blood or bite. Those affected often experience lycanthropy on full moons, although some of those born with the curse maintain the forms of enormous fairytale dogs even in the absence of moonlight. Barghests have the unique ability to walk between realms - often concealing themselves within reflective surfaces or dreams. They hunt by severing their victims' minds and spirits from their bodies, trapping them in dream-realms and preying on the energy emitted as this bond severs. ------- [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]MAIN CHARACTERS[/b][/size][/center] ------- [columns][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=57909606][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/579097/57909606.png[/img][/url][nextcol] [size=3][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [b]Father Herald[/b]: As a priest of the Lightweaver, it was Herald's duty to protect the lands from darkness. Once, he commanded a group of six missionaries who he sent across the lands to investigate rumors and vanquish the monstrous beasts of fairytale. Herald's monastery is now a crumbling ruin protected by the priest's wards. . . Passersby wonder what became of the priest of light. [/columns] [columns] [columns][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=58152644][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/581527/58152644.png[/img][/url][nextcol] [size=3][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [b]Sister Inghinn[/b]: An abandoned child, Inghinn lived in fear until a wandering priest rescued her from the the creature that haunted her dreams. Now, she accompanies Father Herald on his quest, scribing the tale of their travels. [/columns] [columns][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=59388144][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/593882/59388144.png[/img][/url][nextcol][size=3][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [b]Brother Rowan[/b]:A collector of stories, Brother Rowan holds onto many dark secrets. His past is shrouded in mystery and he speaks little, watching carefully with golden eyes as he compiles sketches and information into a series of guides. [/columns] [columns][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=55208560][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/552086/55208560.png[/img][/url][nextcol] [size=3][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [b]Godmother[/b]: Paranoia was responsible for Godmother's creation. When words of witch magic came, the king's recourse was that of fire. Still, some things refuse to burn and from the ashes they rise again. . . filled with rage. [/columns]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/pdoHpg6.png[/img][/center] [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]CHAPTER I: AN UNYIELDING FOG[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=3][i][font=sylfaen]Villagers go missing in the night, their disappearance shrouded by an eerie fog that settles upon the lands. Only scraps of tattered cloth remain in their wake, as if the missing were stolen away by something that lurks amidst the mist. This is the tale of the Barghest, Ire. [/i][/center] ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The chatter of gulls overhead and the scent of brine mark a certain proximity to the sea. There are villages all along the coast of the Sunbeam Ruins, small port towns immersed in a life of seafaring and trade. The lap of waves against wooden docks echoes through these harbors, long stretches of beach fanning out for miles around them, their sands ever changing with the rolling tide. These towns have many rumors. Tales of sea monsters that lurk within the dark waters or spirits whose moans echo with the wind in the night. Superstition runs high in such places. . . But everyone knows that even stories must begin with a grain of truth. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Father Herald slumped under the weight of his packs, his mane and feathers in a state of wind-whipped disarray as they were tousled in the turbulent air. The path he followed wound through a myriad of sand banks, the tall dunes shifting in the wind where they weren’t tacked down by ice plants. The traveling priest huffed as he leaned against the twisted trunk of a cypress, the tree's canopy nearly bent to the ground beneath years of wind. It was a story that drew Herald to this place. Rumor of a strange fog that had settled upon one of the villages here. Such tales always caught his ear, and he followed them, perhaps hoping to reclaim something that he’d lost years ago. Perhaps, simply to offer help. Regardless, the priest rested for only a moment against the tree before slinging the packs he carried back upon his shoulder and trudging onwards. The narrow path eventually effaced with a cliff of ragged white stone that helped block the wind, winding onwards until it opened to the sea. It was here, hidden by the cliffs that the port town of Oyster Bay looked out over an open ocean. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Herald inhaled, the air thick with the tang of salt and drying kelp. His golden claws tapped against cobblestone streets as he wandered, observing the numerous cracks that lined these roads and the dark spots of mildew that ate away at many of the buildings. The residents saw many visitors here and few of them took notice of Father Herald. Still, he found the church with ease, a humble structure of white stone and diamond slatted windows perched at the edge of the town. Father Herald pushed open the oaken door. The priest of Oyster Bay was a shrewd Spiral, a set of crooked spectacles sitting upon the bridge of his nose. He was praying before the Lightweaver's alter when Herald arrived, turning when he was finished to greet the other priest. “Ah, you must be Father Herald. It is good of you to come during this troubling time... for our village seems to be cursed.” Herald took a seat on one of the pews beside the Spiral. “Please, let me hear of it too so that I may share in this burden”. The Spiral nodded and it was with haste that the priest of Oyster Bay began his tale. Herald listened with intent, images rolling through his mind as he sat upon the wooden pew. Indeed a strange fog would settle upon this town and with it villagers went missing in the night. The Spiral priest continued solemnly. “I’ve seen footprints down on the beach - the marks of a massive beast. They roll away with the tide but leave the sand beneath blackened in their wake. And there’s more...” It was then that the two priests stood, wandering outside to a small garden planted behind the church. “Little grows here to begin with, but now our crops are all failing completely”. Indeed, Herald leaned down to inspect a sickly head of cabbage, prying the leaves apart to reveal hundreds of caterpillar larvae. Herald looked back to the other priest with a quizzical gaze. “Moths” he said simply. “They’re moths”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Herald slept fitfully that night, his dreams haunted by an unyielding fog that blanketed the Bay. He was walking then, back through the cobblestone streets of the town. The priest's path was lit only dimly by torches lining the roads, but he became aware of an odd sound, like a finger tapping incessantly against glass. It was down by the docks that Herald spotted a young maiden - a Pearlcatcher dressed in tavern clothes. She seemed frightened, staring with wide eyes at one of the street lights. Her pearl sat discarded beside her, a hairline crack marring it’s surface as if it had been dropped. Herald approached and picked it up, but the Pearlcatcher seemed unaware of his presence, so unaware that it was as if the priest simply didn’t exist. He attempted to speak, but it seemed that none of his words could reach her. The sound of tapping grew louder and it was then that Herald followed the maiden's gaze up to the light. Moths. Hundreds of them swarmed around the street light, their bodies hitting the glass as they clamored closer to the flame. More and more of them appeared until they had blocked out the light completely. Within a breath, the docks were cast suddenly into darkness. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The priest awoke with a start. He was in the church, the candle sitting beside his bed smoking lightly as if it had recently gone out. He shifted uncomfortably before realizing that he held something in his hand. It was round and smooth with a hairline crack along its surface. Herald didn’t even need to look to know what it was and a sense of dread filled him as he clamored from his bed. The fog was still thick as Harold raced down the winding path from the church and through the town. He carried a single candle with him, its light casting out in a circle around the priest. He came to the docks but found no sign of the maiden. The priest panted, his breath mingling with the fog as it billowed through the air. All was quiet, the silence broken only by a gentle echo of waves washing against the shore. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Daybreak illuminated truths hidden by the darkness. The sky above the town was a steel grey, heavy with the promise of rain as Father Herald traversed the beach, watching the tide drawl in to cover dark footprints. Even as their shape became contorted and obscured by the waves, the prints still marred the earth beneath them, sand turned a dark obsidian in their wake. It was as the priest of Abalone Bay had said. At the end of the stride, tucked away in a secluded cove of ragged white stone, Father Herald found the tattered scraps of cloth. He recognized them immediately as the clothes that the Pearlcatcher maiden had worn in the waking dream they'd shared and he signed a cross, knowing that she was gone. Herald meandered back to the town after his discovery, his feet and tail dragging heavily through the sand as he made his way across the beach. Even from a distance, he could hear the clamor of the village awakening, merchants opening their doors and crews hoisting supplies onboard their ships as they prepared to leave the docks. Herald heard the wails of grief too. He followed the sound to find an aged Pearlcatcher sitting on the beach and the priest approached, settling quietly beside her. He didn't need to speak to know what she was grieving and Herald instead pulled the pearl from his robes, offering it with a look of sympathy. "I came across this on the docks" he said, "I tried to find its owner, but. . . I fear that my search has been fruitless". The Pearlcatcher looked to him with a solemn nod, taking the luminescent orb from him carefully and cradling it close to her chest. "She was my daughter. Sadie. Her name was Sadie. . . and I already know that she is gone“. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Herald resolved that he would be ready the next time the beast appeared. He’d seen evidence of its existence, but he had yet to behold the creature with his own eyes, instead relying on the stories of the villagers to guide his preparations. Few of them had glimpsed the monster, most only able to describe the thick fog that settled upon their town and the strange dreams that plagued them as the moon waxed high on the horizon. There was one villager, however, a young Skydancer who claimed he’d seen the beast. “It’s a dog,” he said quietly. “A giant dog that took my sister away. . .” The priest compiled all of these tales, learning that the monster came only on nights of the full moon, its form that of a massive hound appearing from the fog as it stole away villagers in the night. It was to this image that Herald unbuckled the leather straps holding his packs closed and began to withdraw their contents. His claws carded across a series of silver blades and rosary beads as he pulled the items free and set them onto the church’s wooden floor. Enchanted candles and bottles of iridescent liquid came after followed by a heavy set of chains that gleamed darkly under the candle light and a silver iron collar. Finally, the priest produced a small glass vial filled with a fine black powder. By the time the next full moon came, Herald was ready. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The moon glowed, pale and deadly like an opaque eye staring down upon the world. Still, its light barely touched the town, blotted out by the heavy blanket of fog that settled over the harbor. Despite the darkness, the lights of the town went unlit that night, the entire village dark and silent save for the faint flicker of candles that flowed through the diamond slatted windows of the church. At the edge of the village, it stood as the sole beacon of light in the darkness. Father Herald stayed awake that night, crouched over a wooden pew before a circle of black ash that lined the floor. He heard the soft toll of midnight as the bell above the church echoed to life. Then the hours of one and two and three in the morning. Eventually, Father Herald lost track of the bells, his eyelids drooping as he fought the urge to sleep. It was then that a knock came upon the door. It was faint at first, a dull rapping that roused Herald from his slumber. The candles he had lit burnt low, puddles of wax dripping around the last several millimeters of wick. The priest rose from the pews as the knocking grew louder and more incessant as if numerous fists now pounded against the door. He heard the wood creak, the iron lock straining to hold the door closed as something thumped against it. The sound came again and again until the door could no longer hold. It was then that it erupted open. The door gaped open to the night, still for only a moment before a stream of movement burst through the threshold. Moths. Thousands of them piled into the church, their wings churning the still air as they swarmed. Disturbed by the sudden turbulence, the candles finally blew out, faint wisps of smoke leaving them as their flames were extinguished. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Father Herald clutched the chains he held tight, unable to see in the darkness. Still, he heard the moths fluttering loudly in the air as they coalesced into a mass before the doorway. The priest backed away as the faint flutter of wings gave way to the sounds of flesh and bone shifting wetly before a low growl echoed through the church. "Lumos" At Herald's words, the candles sprung back to life, their faint glow illuminating the church enough for the priest to see. The swarm of moths no longer stood before him, instead replaced by the form of a massive hound. Its shaggy fur hung long and matted against its hide, jagged yellow teeth lining its mouth as it turned its head toward the priest. The creature had no eyes, only empty sockets that leaked something foul and dark onto its fur. The beast snarled and reared away from the sudden light, but Herald was quick. He flung the chains toward it, ensnaring the creature as he pulled the leads taught in his grasp. Still, the monster was strong, tossing its great head and dragging Herald across the church as it attempted to throw off its restraints. The priest landed with a crack amidst the pews, breaking several of them as he fought to pull the creature towards the ring of ash drawn upon the floor. He was taken aback when the tension on the restraints slacked, realizing too late that the beast had stopped resisting his pull choosing instead to leap towards the priest. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Pain blossomed across Herald's shoulder as the hound's teeth came down in a snap, skidding across several scales before sinking deep into his underlaying flesh. He felt blood pool around the wound, staining his robes as it saturated the tattered cloth before dripping to the floor. With a grimace, Herald grabbed ahold of the beast before it could dislodge its fangs, dragging it into the circle of ash. The monster yowled as it released Herald, its maw coming away blood stained and filled with a tattered mix of cloth and flesh. Herald backed away, a smear of red following him as he dragged himself across the floor to rest against the remains of several broken pews. He was badly injured, panting to catch his breath as the beast paced within the circle, staring towards him with its empty eyes. Despite his fatigue, Herald mustered the strength to begin his chant. A string of exorcisms memorized out of the pages of the many books he'd read over the years. The monster hissed as his words echoed through the church, its fur beginning to dissolve into black flecks of ash that disintegrated upon the air. Then, a voice came, a distorted whisper that reverberated from the beast's throat. "Father Herald. You will not exorcise me so easily. . . This curse is yours too, after all". The creature laughed then, a horrible sound that lingered on the air. Herald ignored its words, focusing on his own chanting. It was then that the ring of ash restraining the creature caught aflame, tendrils of fire igniting the monster's tangled fur as it growled. Herald presumed that it would combust as was the typical end of his exorcisms, but the moment the circle of ash dissipated, the beast leapt away, its flaming form darting through the church's open door as it yowled and ran into the night. Herald dragged himself up off the floor to follow the beast, catching himself on the frame of the open door as he stared after its smoldering form. The fog it brought was already dissipating and he watched the creature dart towards the end of the piers and out onto the sea before it disappeared over the horizon. It was then that the priest lost consciousness. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Herald awoke to sunlight streaming in through the windows of the church and the priest of Abalone Bay staring worriedly at his crumpled form. Herald winced as he arose, his shoulder burning furiously with the movement despite the support of the bandages that the other priest had presumably wrapped around him. "Ah, good! You're awake!" The Spiral chortled with glee. Father Herald glanced around him, surprised by the other priest's cheer. The church was in ruins, shattered glass and pews littered across the floor and several of the support beams on the ceiling badly burned. "You've done it, my friend! Look! The fog has lifted and the sun shines brightly upon our town once more. Even our crops now flourish!" Herald sat in silent confusion. He had failed in subduing the beast, but still its influence was gone from the town. Indeed, there were no signs of the brittle grey moths or their larvae and even the beach now sparkled, its sands shimmering white under the sun. The priest opted to stay until the next full moon in case of the beast's return, but even then there were no signs of the creature. Still, Herald knew it was still out there and he carded a claw gently across the scars that marred his shoulder. They still burned, especially under the moon's light - a reminder that the beast still haunted the world. A name came then to Herald's lips, and he spoke it softly to the night, his words a faint whisper carried upon the air. "Ire". ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=58603678] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/586037/58603678_350.png[/img] [/url] [/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mR2amRa.png[/img] [/center] [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]CHAPTER II: THE WISHING WELL[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=3][i][font=sylfaen]Rumor has it that a voice can be heard echoing from the depths of an old well, beckoning travelers to come close and make a wish. This is the tale of the Barghest, Roe. [/i][/center] ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “Children!” A voice called out into the sun flecked woods where three Imperials played, their auburn scales shining as they tussled in a bed of pine needles. Though the trio were born in a small clan that rested on the border of the Ashfall Wastes and the Windswept Plateau, they came to the Sunbeam Ruins during the summer months each year. Their mother, an astronomer called Deluge came to study the stars, setting her children free to explore the woods around the small cabin they rented. “Remember the rules!” She’d call after them as they set off. “Yeah, mum, be back before dark!” Gretel called over her shoulder as her brothers ran off in front of her. “And don’t stray far.” The children were always aware of an unseen boundary between the Sunbeam Ruins and the Tangled Woods. The soft light that flooded between the trees would gradually give way to an umbral wash of shadows, redwood needles underfoot deteriorating into a marsh of decaying leaves and fallen logs. They went as far as where the rain fell before their mother’s words echoed in the siblings’ minds. “Steer clear of any rain you may see billowing from the Sunbeam Ruins. . . for there’s dark magic afoot”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Gretel set off after her twin brothers, picking up a stick as she scampered down a rocky path towards the sound of rushing water. “En garde!” Hansel’s voice rung out through the woods along with the distinct clacking of sticks. “No fair!” Hector whined as Hansel darted forward, knocking the stick from his brother’s hands. “Ha! Now beg for your life, peasant!” “Not so fast!” Gretel called mischievously, pointing her own stick at Hansel’s back. He turned quickly with a grin, the siblings’ pretend swords clacking together. Gretel pushed him back until Hector’s fallen stick came into reach and she was able to throw it back towards her unarmed brother. “Help me finish this delinquent!” “Ah, talk about no fair!” Hansel huffed, “Ganging up on me!” It wasn’t long before Gretel and her brother had Hansel pinned down against the side of the embankment, his hands raised to the air in surrender. “Now look whose begging for their life!” She said with a smirk. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] It was starting to get dark as the trio made their way back to the cabin. They had long since discarded their sparring sticks, instead using the remaining hours of daylight to collect several mushrooms to add to their dinner. Hansel sniffed the air as they approached the cabin’s warm glow. “Ahh, I can smell the stew already!” The cabin door opened with a faint creak as the siblings shuffled inside, their mother humming as she cooked. “We brought these too!” Hector called, depositing the cloth-wrapped mushrooms on the counter next to her. Deluge chuckled as she inspected them, “good job! No poisonous ones this time”. “Learned from the best” Hector replied as his mother’s hand came down to tousle his mane. The siblings sat outside that night, a small fire warming their scales as they looked up at the stars. “I’ll teach you how to read and navigate by the stars too” Deluge said, “for with their light in the sky guiding you, you will never be lost”. The children dreamed that night about the stars. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Morning brought the sound of birdsong as flecked sunlight streamed in through the cabin’s windows. Hector was the first to wake, jumping onto his siblings. “Get up slackers! We have important work to do today!” He stood before them, waving his arms dramatically as he spoke. “Hector, Gretel, and Hansel, the fearless explorers!” An old scout’s hat already sat upon his head. It was lopsided and nearly covered the hatchling’s eyes given its size. Gretel played along, “get the maps! We’re searching for treasure!” She leapt out of their shared nest, pulling the scout hat down over her brother’s eyes as she rushed by him. Deluge watched with a smile as her children ventured into the woods again, sketchbooks and magnifying glasses clutched in their arms. “Remember the rules!” Her voice called after them. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Children’s laughter filled the forest as the trio inspected their surroundings, Hector sketching a map of the woods as they went. The hatchlings pressed flowers and leaves between the pages of their book as they explored, Hector continuing to sketch a myriad of insects and birds along with the tracks of larger fauna imprinted into the ground. “These probably belonged to a deer!” Gretel called as they glanced at a muddy animal path, “ooh and a rabbit went this way!” There were all sorts of tracks criss-crossing through the drying mud. “Ah, and a fox!” Hansel called. Gretel scoffed at that, “there are no foxes around here silly!” Although the prints were unmistakably those of a dog-like creature. “Probably just someone’s hunting dog passing through”. “Uh, what’s this one from?” Hector’s voice called, beckoning his siblings towards a single footprint marred into the mud. It was similar in shape to the ones that Hansel had called a fox, but far larger. Indeed, the siblings didn’t know such a huge creature could exist in the woods at all. “It’s bigger than mum’s prints” Hector said worriedly. The siblings were quiet for a moment, staring down at the print. It wasn’t simply its size, but the mud surrounding the print was dark, nearly black as if it had been burned into the ground. It was then they felt the rain. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Hansel’s voice grew nervous. “Uhh, guys, where are we?” Gretel looked up, glancing around them. How had they not noticed? It was dark and the towering redwoods no longer surrounded them, replaced now with the gnarled trunks of dark oaks. A cold breeze picked up, rustling eerily through the canopy. “W-we should head back” Gretel called, trying to keep her voice confident and calm. “Let me see the map, Hector”. The trio pulled out a small oil lamp, lighting it with a snap of their fire magic as they inspected the map. They had wandered far from the cabin, but Hector had still managed to map out their path. How could they have been so distracted not to realize when they passed the edge of the Sunbeam Ruins. . . not even to realize it was getting dark? The lamp gave a dull hiss, the light flickering as a few drops of rain found their way to the flame. “O-ok” Gretel said as she took a shaky breath. “We just have to find this clearing again”. She tapped the wet paper with a claw as she spoke, “the border is right on the other side”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Gretel recalled passing through a clearing, remembering it as a sunny field filled with lemongrass and bluebells. She halted when it came into view under the moonlight, Hector bumping into her back when she stopped short. “Give a warning next time Gret-“. The clearing now looked like a burnt patch of earth, the remains of rotting trees lining its borders. The ground was tarry and black under the moonlight and perhaps, most unusual of all was the old well that sat at the clearing’s center, three shining golden coins resting upon its rim. Something else sat upon the stone edge as well. Mottled red and obsidian, its eyes looked forward like coals burning inside its skull. A fox. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The Imperial siblings froze in fear. “G-gretel, that well wasn’t there before” Hector whimpered. “I know, but look” she pointed at a path between the trees on the other side, “we need to get over there”. She stepped forward, calling out. “P-please allow us to pass”. Gretel had hoped that the animal sitting on the well’s edge would run at the sound of her voice, but the fox’s glowing eyes locked onto hers as it appeared to pull its lips back into. . . a smile. It’s voice came like a whisper haunting the wind, “Oh dear. Poor lost children in the woods. Allow me to help you. . . Come. Come make a wish.” Hansel grit his teeth as Gretel stepped shakily towards the well and Hector began to sob. Gretel felt confused, suddenly finding herself alongside her siblings as they clutched golden coins in their hands. How had they gotten here? She hadn’t realized she moved as the coin left her, flipping in the air as it descended into the darkness of the well. “I want. . . to go home”. The fox smiled. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Gretel’s eyes snapped open as she sat up with a start, breathing heavily. She was back in their nest. In the cabin. She relaxed momentarily before realizing that her siblings weren’t by her side. “Hector? Hansel? She called tentatively. “Mother?” There was no response. It was dark and quiet. Too quiet. The gentle babble of the creek and the soft chirp of crickets were replaced with silence. Even the hinges on the door muffled their creak as Gretel stepped from the cabin to a starless sky. The Imperial felt her heart thudding in her chest. She nearly had a heart attack as something landed on her shoulder, gasping to find Hansel by her side. “Ah, Gretel! Gretel, thank the Gods” He was crying and out of breath as if he’d just run from somewhere far away. “I-I thought I was alone here”. Gretel embraced her brother tightly. “Where’s Hector?” Hansel looked nervous, “I-I don’t know. But where are we, Gretel? Where are the stars? I thought I was dreaming. Having a nightmare about the woods and th-there was this old well”. Gretel’s blood ran cold. “I think we’re still stuck in a dream. . .” She finished her words with a whisper. Hansel looked at her with nervous eyes as the silence was finally broken by someone screaming in the distance. “Hector!” ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Hansel and Gretel wasted no time as they rushed towards the sound of their brother’s voice. “Hector! Hector! Where are you?!” Hansel called. They were panting and out of breath when they finally came close to the sound of Hector’s screams, finding themselves back in the clearing. Hector was curled in a ball whimpering as his brother and sister approached. “N-no, stay away,” he said weakly. Gretel grew queasy as she approached, leaning down over her brother’s crumpled form. He was injured badly. His rear legs were mangled, deep gouges running along his sides. “Hector, stay with me. Look at me, it’s going to be ok”. She felt hot tears run from her eyes. Hector was bleeding and there was nothing she could do to stop the crimson pool that was rapidly forming under him. “Gretel! Watch out!” Hansel’s voice was frantic behind her and the Imperial barely had time to register his warning. She leapt away from Hector, crying out as a flash of white snapped shut, grazing her arm and shoulder. Teeth. She looked up, eyes meeting glowing coal-like orbs as a beast loomed above her. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Gretel watched as the monster pulled itself up out of the well with a growl, a massive gnarled paw shaking the earth as it slammed into the ground. It’s form was that of a red fox, tattered fur hanging from it’s body. Yet it was enormous, bigger than any dragon that Gretel had ever seen. . . perhaps even bigger than some of the Gods. It’s claws were dark and overgrown, it’s teeth shining ivory as it pulled its lips back in a smile. Gretel watched in horror as it leaned down, picking up Hector’s limp form in it’s enormous maw. It flicked its head back towards the sky, snapping the flesh between its teeth as it swallowed the Imperial whole. “Monster!” Gretel cried, allowing her tears to fall in fear and rage. She found her body moving of its own volition, running forward to slam her arms against the creature’s limb. “Give him back! HECTOR!” The beast looked down, annoyed as Gretel feebly attempted to claw at its fur. It growled, moving it’s arm quickly and sending the Imperial flying towards the tree line. She cried as her wings and spine collided with the bark of a blackened tree accompanied by a sickening snapping sound. “Gretel!” Her brother rushed to her side, pulling her into a hug as he sobbed. Hansel could see the monster stalking towards them, claws reaching forward. She gripped her brother as tightly as she could, the two of them closing their eyes tightly. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Gretel heard noises, but no longer had the strength to open her eyes. It sounded like trees snapping, the tussle of paws on the earth and the growls and yelps of beasts fighting. Hansel caught a glimpse of the monster retreating back into the well and a flash of golden fur as darkness crept in around the edges of his vision. He too closed his eyes. Gretel heard a voice. “Ah, I think they’re waking up! It’s okay little one.” She peeked her eyes open to find a Pearlcatcher staring down at her, sunlight streaming down behind them. Gretel shifted slightly, crying out as pain seared through her shoulder and wings. “Ah, try not to move too quickly, you’re badly injured. Please, I’m Inghinn.” She said with a smile, “Sister Inghinn”. Gretel glanced around, looking over to see her brother waking up beside her. Another drake, a Skydancer crouched over him, supporting him as he attempted to sit up. Another form laid in the field as well - another Imperial. He appeared to have just been asleep as well as he rose, limping slightly as he made his way towards the others. He wore the white robes of a priest, though they were stained and tattered with wear and fresh blood appeared to be seeping through a few of them. The Skydancer previously tending to Hansel rushed over then, “Ah, father, you’re injured too” he said worriedly, helping to wrap an additional bandage around the Imperial’s shoulder. “Thank you Rowan”. They sat in the clearing still, but it was illuminated by sunlight and full of birdsong. The trees were bright with life and the field around the drakes filled with bluebells and sour grass. There were no signs of the great beast or the dark wishing well. The golden Imperial knelt before Hansel and Gretel then, “I am sorry I came too late to save your sibling” he said. . . “And to prevent your injuries”. He spent a moment looking solemnly to Gretel. “I am Father Herald”. Deluge gripped her children tightly when the priest and his companions escorted Hansel and Gretel back to their cabin. They sobbed into their mother’s arms. “My babies” She said, “I thought I had lost you.” ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Herald returned to the clearing once the children had been reunited with their mother. He sighed as the wind ruffled his golden mane. He inspected the clearing, humming curiously as he picked up a sketchbook from amidst the overgrown foliage. It contained flower pressings and sketches, and various maps. Herald frowned as he came to the final pages. A sketch of a fox stared back at him, its pupils constricted down to cat-like slits and its lips pulled back into a smile. He slammed the book closed with a growl before plunging a cross into the ground in the center of the clearing. “Where have you gone?” The priest whispered under his breath. “Where have you gone, Roe?” ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=58511578] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/585116/58511578_350.png[/img] [/url][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Ks4AXg6.png[/img][/center] [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]CHAPTER III: THE RED RIVER[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=3][i][font=sylfaen]The lands surrounding the Red River are cursed by hunger. The river runs dark rusted red - perhaps due to the iron-laden stones that line the riverbed or the thousands of salmon roe deposited amidst the torrents. Others say that the waters are stained by the blood of a great beast, a promise kept from long ago. This is the tale of the barghest, Caviar. [/i][/center] ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [font=Garamond][size=6]T[/size]obiko sighed. The path she walked was well worn, a winding passage that switchbacked through the craggy mountains of Dragonhome. It was an old caravan route, yet many travelers and traders traversed it as well; few of them daring to fly above the mountain peaks where the wind was strong and the air thin. Still, travel by ground was equally arduous. The sun beamed down upon an arid landscape of crumbling stone, its heat drawing beads of sweat from between the dragon’s scales. Shrugging a heavy pack from her shoulders, the drake leaned against a boulder, resting for a moment as she stared out across the Shattered Plain. The Imperial could see all of Dragonhome from here, her eyes tracing the numerous fissures that marred the ground back to the ancient tombs of the Cairnstone Rest. The stone pillar that sat at the center of the Earthshaker’s lands towered high above, disappearing amidst a brilliant sky. She would miss this place. The Imperial pursed her lips, remembering the furrow of her father’s brow as he unfolded a ragged roll of parchment. “What’s wrong?” It had come from a clan nestled between the Scarred Wasteland and the Tangled Woods. “They’re threatening to drop business with us. Says that none of the seeds will grow, none of the plants stay alive”. Tobiko frowned, “that’s impossible. We import the very best from the Viridian Labyrinth - those crops are proven to grow even on the brink of the Wyrmwound where nothing else will.” Herath sighed. “Indeed, it is troublesome. I’ll have to send someone - they’re refusing to return payment and we have barely enough now to cover our costs”. Tobiko knew her father hated discussing the financial aspects of their trade. He wanted only to help, but while the drakes of the Viridian Labyrinth often cut him deals, the import taxes on plant products into the Scarred Wasteland were astronomically high. Tobiko’s earthen eyes settled on the letter still clutched in her father’s claws, “allow me to go”. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] It took Tobiko three days to reach the mountain’s peak. The stone here was cold, the ground still packed with ice and the trail nearly lost beneath the fallen snow. The Imperial shuddered, pushing forward against the wind as she came to the pinnacle, the lands beyond Dragonhome revealing themselves far below. The Imperial gasped as she took in the dark swaths of forest that marked the Tangled Woods, her eyes following the thinning tree line to where a massive red plain stretched out for miles into the distance - the Scarred Wasteland. Her destination was somewhere between the two, a small village by the name of Arrowstone. The old caravan trail faded into the mountainside and Tobiko chose instead to follow the rivulets of snowmelt that trickled ever downwards, fusing first into small streams that eventually fed into the maw of a great, twisting river. The mountain stones were rich in iron and Tobiko assumed that this was what pigmented the water, the river’s torrents stained a deep red. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Arrowstone came into view at the edge of the tree line. It was a small, run down village that rested beside the river, the dilapidated ruins of an old castle crumbling on the banks across from it. Tobiko tread onwards, several smooth stones displacing with a soft clatter beneath her feet. The sound of birdsong, the gentle rustle of leaves, and the babble of the river captivated her for a moment and she afforded a smile. Certainly, it would be easy to lose oneself in such a beautiful place. Tobiko felt something suddenly sharp against her neck and she swatted instinctually, her claws coming down with a wet crunch. The crumpled form of a mosquito came away, some of the Imperial’s own blood smattered around it in her hand. “Oh - I’m sorry little one.” She said sympathetically before leaning down to wash the insect from her hand in the river. The currents carried it away, water licking her hand free of blood. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Tobiko made her way towards the town, noticing as the earth became barren and muddy the closer she approached. An old sign hung at the gates, creaking as it swung on rusted chains. “Oi, who goes there?” The voice came from an old and nearly blind Snapper at Tobiko’s feet. “Don’t get many visitors around here anymore” the squat dragon scoffed, probing one of the Imperial’s legs with her walking cane. “Hello, my name is Tob-”. “What you saying? Gotta speak a little louder for these old ears. Hearing ain’t what it used to be.” Tobiko cleared her throat, “I’m uh, my father sent me. From the H and H Trading Co? We got a letter from you about the seeds not growing”. The Snapper tapped her cane, “Nope. Don’t want none of your seeds. Won’t grow in this soil. Nothing will.” The Snapper’s tone was now resigned and bitter and Tobiko saw how tired the elder looked. Her pale hide hung from her frame and Tobiko was shocked to notice the prominent ridges of the dragon’s spine and ribs showing through her skin. This village was starving, even its elders. “Please” she said softly, “Allow me to try”. “Bah. Waste of time! But you can try all you want. Don’t matter none to me”. Tobiko smiled before a breath of air ghosted across her claws. She glanced down to find a dog sniffing at her scales. It was a hunting breed, an Irish Setter with stunning red fur that trailed off of it in silken waves. It looked up at her with intelligent eyes before the elder huffed, waving her cane. “Shoo! Shoo! Get outta here!” The dog easily avoided the Snapper’s waving cane, glancing up at Tobiko briefly before darting away and disappearing into the woods. The elder only scoffed, muttering something under her breath. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Tobiko trailed along behind the Snapper, the elder pointing out landmarks as they wandered through town. “Used to be a great place here I’ll tell ya - the crops still grew back then and out over there was an orchard,” the Snapper said in reminiscence, pointing her cane towards an ashen plot of land where several blackened trees jutted from the earth. “Those trees had the best apples every year and my mama used to make them into pies. Still have the old recipe”. The elder smiled. The Snapper pointed out several homes occupied by villagers, waving to a few of the townsfolk as they passed. Still, many of the old residences were abandoned, their inhabitants long since moved or passed away. “That over there is the cemetery” the elder said, gesturing to another barren plot surrounded by a small black fence. Tobiko followed the elder’s gaze, looking up at the hundreds of gravestones that marked the earth. “Son of mine used to try to garden there, but now he just digs the graves and makes the stones. We’ve lost so many.” It was getting dark and Tobiko felt a deep sadness was over her as she looked upon the graves. “I’m sorry” she said quietly. “Eh, ain’t your fault. Happens to all of us one day. Getting dark now though, best you come with Mama Rae, we’ll put you up for the night”. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Mama Rae. The white cataracts in her eyes prevented Tobiko from discerning where the elder was born, but it seemed that she had resided in Arrowstone for the majority of her life. She took Tobiko back to her home, a small tavern near the diseased apple orchard. Another Imperial was working outside when they arrived, his claws dragging across a slab of stone as he carved it into shape. “Ah, Mama! Been a while since we’ve had guests”, her son chimed when he saw the pair approach, wiping chips of ground stone from his arms. He leaned down in greeting so that the Snapper could kiss his cheeks. “Aeron, this is Tobiko, came out here to help with those seeds you keep tryin’ a plant”. “Ah, you’re from the trading corporation then?” Aeron smiled. “I’m afraid we don’t have much to offer these days, but the least we can do is a bed and a fire.” Tobiko smiled in return. “No worries, I brought a few things with me as well". Tobiko stayed up late that night, slicing and layering vegetables into a casserole dish with the help of Aeron and Mama Rae. Given how few villagers remained in the town, the ratatouille they were making would be enough to feed everyone. Tobiko smiled, looking at Mama Rae in the firelight as the elder laughed and spoke of her past. “I remember when I was a child. . .” the old Snapper began and Aeron chuckled. "Mama Rae has the best memory of all of us". "That's right, boy. Mama never forgets. Not a single thing!" ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Morning brought the comforting scent of vegetable stew, yet through the windows of the tavern, the sky was dark and ominous with the promise of rain. Tobiko became aware of a haunting sound echoing through the village as well. From the window, the Imperial saw Mama Rae emerge from the tavern, walking solemnly towards a Skydancer in dark clothes who bent over a wooden plank - the stiff form of a child laid out on the dark wood. Raindrops fell. They speckled the ground and echoed with a gentle patter against the tavern’s roof. Even amidst the rainfall, Tobiko could still hear the wails of grief from below. The wails of a mother who had lost her child. Tobiko rushed down the stairs as Mama Rae returned to the tavern with a sigh. “Ah. What a useless elder I am” she said with a solemn shake of her head, hanging her rain parka back on a hook next to the door. “Can’t protect anyone. Just keep on blessing the dead”. Aeron approached, embracing his mother in a hug. “You’re doing the best you can, Mama”. The Snapper looked weak and venerable and Tobiko was frightened by the exhaustion that showed in the elder’s eyes. She allowed her own arms and wings to wrap around Mama Rae and Aeron, embracing them as the rain continued its patter against the roof above. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The funeral was held later that day, the few remaining villagers gathering solemnly around the graveyard. The child's casket was sealed in a grim silence, the dark pine box slowly lowered into the earth and covered with muddy soil. As an Earth dragon born beside the tombs of the Cairnstone Rest, Tobiko felt deeply unsettled by the burial. It felt like something profound was missing and she lingered by the graveside long after the others had dispersed, her scales and feathers wet with rain. Tobiko dug her claws into the dirt, pinching and molding it in her hands until it took the form a small clay flower that she set atop the child's grave. She looked up to a flash of red, her eyes locking with brilliant crimson orbs. “You’re the dog from before” she said quietly as the beast approached, sniffing at the newly turned earth that marked the child’s grave. It let out a pitiful whine, pawing gently at the soil. “Was he your friend? I’m sorry.” The dog seemed to respond to her words, approaching to sit beside the Imperial, his brilliant red fur caking with mud as he laid down to rest his head upon the Earth. Up close, Tobiko could see that under his coat, the dog was as starved and thin as the rest of the villagers and there were several areas where his fur now failed to grow - great bands of scar tissue marring the skin beneath. Tobiko allowed her hand to come down, brushing through locks of red fur as the dog let out a deep sigh. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Tobiko slept fretfully that night. Her dreams brought her back to the graveyard, slabs of grey stone shining under the moonlight. A flash of red. She saw that the dog was digging now, his claws tearing into the earth. She heard him whine as she approached, watching as he pawed and bit frantically at the ground. His fur was covered in mud when he finally leapt back, hackles raised as he barked at the black pit that had opened, the child’s casket nowhere to be seen. Instead, something bubbled up from the gaping hole in the ground. It was a thick dark liquid that spilled out of the grave. Tobiko watched as it seeped across the ground, skittering as if it were alive. It coiled back before. . . the Imperial cried out as the dark tendril snapped towards her, ensnaring her arm as it corroded though scales and flesh. “AHH!” She frantically attempted to dislodge the serpentine contagion, but it only wrapped tighter around her, searing and burning all that it touched. She looked up then, familiar crimson eyes meeting her own. Yet, they no longer belonged to the red dog. Instead, an enormous beast towered above her. Its lips parted back into a snarl, jagged ivory teeth snapping shut onto the dark tendril of contagion. Tobiko jolted awake. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The Imperial’s heart thudded against her chest, her body soaked in a cold sweat and her breathing ragged. It was still dark outside, the moon a waning sliver overhead. She put her head down in her hands, noticing a dull ache in her right wrist that was rapidly progressing into outright pain. Frantically, she lurched from the bed, lighting a candle and inspecting her wrist. A series of snaking scars marred her scales and Tobiko winced as she touched the line of burned flesh tracking up her arm. With a shudder, Tobiko reached for her pack, anointing the wound with a salve of aloe before bandaging it tightly. She was still shaking as she draped a blanket over her shoulders and wandered downstairs, surprised to find that Mama Rae was awake, staring quietly at a candle lit before her on the kitchen table. “Trouble sleeping dear?” The Snapper’s voice came, “come join Mama Rae by the fire”. Tobiko took a seat across from the elder, watching the candle flicker gently as it illuminated the Snapper’s face with a warm glow. “Is there something on your mind?” Tobiko clutched her bandaged arm. "I saw the red dog again”. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Old wood creaked as Mama Rae leaned back in her chair. “Not everyone sees that dog. Here, let tell you a story ‘bout him and you can make of it what you will. Now, you seen that old castle on your way in, I presume?” Tobiko nodded. “Well, ‘long time ago, it belonged to a duke.” Lord Caviar. He had inherited the run-down estate of Arrowstone and founded the nearby village as a refuge for outcasts and pariahs. “We were among them, my own mama and I; two escaped refugees from the Snowsquall Tundra. Lord Caviar welcomed us here when we had nowhere else to go”. Mama Rae stifled a cough, clearing her throat before she continued. The duke had been kind, helping with harvests and the planting of new crops. “It seemed that no task was above him. Then, after the hard work, we’d all venture up to the castle”. Tobiko could imagine it; a Snapper child awed by the song and dance and the great banquet hall of the castle, it’s table overflowing with the freshest of the harvest and the meat from Caviar’s hunts. “He never missed his mark when it came to hunting. He’d take down great stags and boars while his dogs scurried through the brush and flushed out rabbits and birds.” Mama Rae’s eyes were glassy in the candlelight as she delved into her memories. “I’ll never forget what he told me. Called me close one day as he was preparing a rabbit. . . asked me to say a few words for it.” “But, it’s already dead. It won’t hear my words.” Caviar had smiled at that. “Yet, you will hear your words and through them you will know respect for the creature that has given its life to sustain you. You will hold that memory close and you will find that even in death there is a beauty that unfolds.” “Hah” Mama Rae laughed, “you know what I told him back then?” Tobiko imagined the child's innocent gaze meeting the duke's eyes. “But, m’Lord. I don’t even eat meat.” ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Tobiko stared at the fire with a smile, “so the dogs were. . .” “Right” Mama Rae replied, “Caviar’s hunting dogs. You know, those dogs waited for him to come back. I tried to leave them food out by the castle. . . but when the famine struck there was too little to go around. Didn’t see the dogs for years until suddenly that one popped back up. Caviar always said they were like the guardians of this town. Hah. More like a nuisance tryin’a dig up all the graves.” Tobiko frowned, “where did the duke go?” The elder's voice grew quiet. “I. . . I don’t remember. Just tha-AH after he left it came. It said. Said she was. . . burning. Said no one will save you now. An-d I-I found the dogs. I found the dogs in the river.” Tobiko no longer paid attention to the elder’s words. Instead, she was concerned by how the Snapper stuttered with confusion, repeating phrases as her eyes rolled back and she began to shake. The Imperial managed to catch the elder before her body was able to hit the floor, but Mama Rae’s voice remained an incoherent and distant ramble. The Imperial felt for the Snapper’s pulse, barely hearing her own voice as she yelled. “Aeron! Aeron help!” “And t-the river ran. . . red”. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Aeron’s voice pierced the silence. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I can watch her for now.” He gripped Tobiko’s shoulder as she slumped in a chair beside Mama Rae’s bed. The Snapper’s breaths were rapid, her chest rising and falling beneath a nest of white linen sheets. She was alive, yet, she had not woken in three days. “I-I’m” Tobiko dropped her head into her hands as the other Imperial leaned down beside her. “There’s no need to apologize. I’ll watch Mama while you rest.” Tobiko nodded, glancing up at Aeron through bleary eyes as he helped her to her feet. With a sigh, Tobiko shuffled back to her room. Her vision tunneled darkly as she curled atop the linens and quickly fell into a deep slumber. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] She stood before the river, red water spilling over the edges of its banks and welling up as if it were blood seeping from a wound opened into the land. The castle loomed above her, an amalgamation of dark stone and skittering tendrils of ivy. Iron doors creaked open as Tobiko knocked and her claws tapped loudly against the stone floor when she passed through the threshold. “H-hello?” The Imperial called, her voice and footfalls reverberating as she wandered across the decaying remains of an ornamental rug that lined the entry hall. She could see the echoes of grandeur, the heads of great beasts mounted upon the walls and an immense oaken dining table resting in the adjacent dining hall. A chandelier of tangled elk antlers glowed softly from above and in the dim light, Tobiko could make out dark streaks upon the floor. She felt something slick and wet underfoot, looking down to find spatters of blood smeared across the ground. Her heart raced, but Tobiko pushed herself onwards, following the dark trail up a set of winding stairs. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Red gleamed from the wall at the top of the stairs and Tobiko reached out to caress an old painting, the shining eyes of a proud plague dragon staring down at her from the worn canvas. She felt her heart flutter in her chest. The duke had been a handsome drake, a circlet of roses atop his head and a red dog sitting loyally by his side. With a final brush of her fingers against the canvas, Tobiko turned, venturing further into the belly of the castle where a heavy oaken door loomed before her. She traced the dark marks upon the door, a depiction of an interlocked arrow and stag's horn etched into the hard oak. Now, the etching was worn with age and obscured by a series of dark, claw-like marks gouged deep into the wood. With a shaking hand, Tobiko pushed the door open. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The rumble of a heavy exhale greeted Tobiko as she entered the dark room, her mane and feathers fluttering softly in a warm breeze generated by the sleeping form. It rested upon the mighty bed, its body coiled atop a mound of silken sheets that shimmered red in the dim light. It stirred. "Mortal" the voice came, a deep vibration upon the air, "are you not. . . afraid?” Tobiko swallowed heavily. She remained silent as the beast lifted its head. The movement was slow, almost painful, and a torrent of dark blood leaked down the creature’s neck as he moved. Tobiko’s heart twisted in her chest. “No, stop, you’re hurt! Please. . . please let me help. Let me. . ." She stopped short as an enormous red eye slid open, its crimson sclera gleaming in the darkness. Still, she rested a hand across the beast’s fur. He appeared to flinch away for a moment before stilling. “Mortal. Why have you come here? I can. . . smell your blood”. The beast said the final words with disgust. “Leave me before. . . I devour you”. His words were slow and haggard. "N-no, please let me help you! I can bring food? I can. . ." He laughed at this. “It will not help. I have resisted it for so long, this hunger. Do not tempt me, mortal. . . for I crave not simply meat and wine”. "My blood then" Tobiko said quietly as she kneeled beside him, exposing her bandaged wrist. The beast’s eyes widened. You do not know what you offer. . . you too will be. . . cursed”. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Tobiko stilled at the mention of the curse. "Is not this town cursed as well, Lord Caviar?" At that the beast snarled, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "The. . . Shade destroys all that it touches. It has corrupted my land, its dark tendrils sapping away the life. I have grown. . . too weak to fight it." Tobiko stared at the scars that wound up her arm. She understood now. The marks of the Shade. She'd heard of it in hushed whispers, in dark tales meant to frighten the faint of heart. It was a force of unrelenting darkness - a sickness with no cure, a contagion that no mage could dispel and no healer could heal. It was a plight upon the land that not even the Gods could contain. . . and yet. "You can destroy Shade." Tobiko had witnessed it. The darkness that skittered up her arm had writhed and erupted into crumbling ash between the red beast's jaws. The realization dawned upon the Imperial and her decision became clear. "Please, allow me to help you. Take my blood. Allow me to share your burden. . . to save this town." Red eyes locked with Tobiko's own, the room caught in a moment of silence before Caviar's voice echoed once more “. . . very well.” The room spun red and Tobiko felt the warmth of breath. She closed her eyes at the sight of ivory teeth parting wide, wincing in anticipation. Yet the bite felt akin to a gentle kiss against her skin. ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Mama Rae's eyes opened slowly, looking down to find Aeron's hands grasping tightly onto one of her own. She smiled as she shifted awake, "I feel like I've just had the strangest dream". Aeron grinned at that, laughing as tears pricked his eyes. "I'll go get you some water, Mama," he called, disappearing downstairs to grab a glass from the kitchen. He returned with a puzzled look on his face. "What's wrong boy?" Mama Rae questioned. "I, uh. I thought Tobiko was sleeping, but the door is ajar and she's. . . well, she's gone." Mama Rae stared down at the glass of water now clutched in her hands. She chuckled lightly. "What is it Mama?" The elder didn't offer much in reply, but she smiled with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Blood is a powerful thing." ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Life slowly returned to the town of Arrowstone. Rabbits and wild boar once again scurried and rooted through the underbrush and tendrils of vibrant green erupted from the ground. Aeron smiled, chuckling under his breath. "Well look at that! Those seeds grew after all". Even the old apple trees came back into bloom, and the scent of pies wafted through the village each fall. The dragon called Tobiko never returned to that town, but there were rumors. . . “Mama Rae!” A child’s voice called, “I saw a these HUUGE dogs down by the river today! They were so big and scary!” The old Snapper’s eyes shined knowingly. “Don’t worry child," she said with reassurance, "there’s no need to be afraid”. [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=58592644] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/585927/58592644_350.png[/img] [/url][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/as5eJXf.jpg[/img][/center] [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]CHAPTER IV: SLEEPING SANDS[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=3][i][font=sylfaen] Grains of sand line the eyes of dreamers said to have caught the sleeping sickness. Rumors of the strange disease reach the palace of Dhune, sparking fears that the plight of those affected is more than just an illness. This is the tale of the Barghest, Scarab. [/i][/center] ------ [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] "Tell me of my fate.” Blind eyes stared knowingly into Euron’s own as the Imperial twitched his tail in anticipation. “Great king”, the Pearlcatcher oracle began slowly, a smile creasing across her weathered face, “praise be that the city you build will be one of prosperity. You will find what you seek. Power, and wealth, and opulence enough to last an endless lifetime!” The oracle’s pearl glowed brilliantly, casting images of the future upon its luminous surface. A city appeared for a moment, proud spires towering up from an endless desert. Images of sparkling gold flickered past; a distant mountain looming beneath a halo of sunlight. Yet, the oracle had not finished her fortune. “Take heed, king, for while your legacy shall be built from magic, so too will magic be your demise”. The great city then faded from the oracle’s pearl, the image growing hazy as a blizzard of desert sand obscured it from view. “Dark magic, indeed”. The Pearlcatcher mused, her opaque eyes staring blindly into the now blank surface of the pearl. “The magic of witches”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Euron pursed his lips as the memory replayed through his mind. It had been many years since he’d seen his future cast upon the surface of the oracle’s pearl and her words often bubbled to the surface of his thoughts. He sighed as he stared out from a balcony that overlooked the glowing City of Dhune, its golden spires sparkling beneath the setting sun. His kingdom. Dhune was a place that rose out of the sands, an oasis of opulence tucked amidst the great desert that bordered the Shifting Expanse and the Ashfall Waste. It was named after the mountain that towered behind it - a dormant volcano whose pinnacle was lost amidst a halo of sunlight. Within the city, a network of stone roads connected the bustling bazaar to the quiet homes and palace beyond. Travelers came from across the sands to sell and trade their wares and the marketplace was filled with the exotic scents of spices and incense. Vendors shouted in a myriad of foreign tongues as they waved colorful silks or displayed freshly kilned stoneware. There was only one rule in the City of Dhune. No magic. Indeed, Dhune was a place without magic or enchantments of any kind. Enchanted items were confiscated at the city’s gates and magic-users had their abilities bound for the duration of their stays. Even Euron himself, once a powerful mage, had denounced magic long ago. Instead, the City of Dhune relied on science. “Lord?” A voice came from behind and the king turned, smiling as Dumuzid approached. Euron leaned close, nuzzling his lover affectionately. “Have you brought me news?” Dumuzid cast his eyes down as he spoke. “A child has fallen ill in the city, sire. His mother came to the palace today requesting an audience with the council. It appears he has not woken from sleep in several days.” The king tugged his beard in contemplation. “See if Mae is available to visit the family’s home. She is the most skilled of our healers. Certainly she will be able to discern the cause of this affliction and remedy it”. Dumuzid nodded. “The other news is the same. Settling a few miscommunications in the marketplace, overseeing the engineers in maintenance of the city. . . thinking about you all day”. “Oh, really?” Euron said with a smile. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] It was two days later that Euron found the healer, Maerwynn pacing back and forth before his throne. Not a moment after he came into her view did Mae begin to talk, her voice a rapid and frantic squeak. “The tests have come back without conclusion. I’ve sampled every possible fluid and tissue that I can collect, analyzed for viral and bacterial causes. It’s all negative. Normal! There are no abnormalities on imaging, on scans, none of the monitoring equipment shows any irregularities!” “Mae, please, start from the beginning. Is this about the child?” The Imperial nodded, “the child, the children, the adults! There are more of them now, afflicted by this strange. . . sleeping sickness. There’s nothing inherently wrong with them, but they won’t wake up.” Euron’s eyes grew wide. “How many?” “Eight now. . . and counting”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Over the following weeks, the Sleeping Sickness spread throughout the City of Dhune. Euron strode solemnly through the empty streets of the marketplace. Echoes of children laughing played through his mind and the phantom scents of incense and beeswax drifted upon the air. Now, the myriad of stalls and shops were boarded and closed. The city had denied entry to all incoming visitors and rumor of the plague that had struck Dhune traveled even to distant lands. Euron snarled and punched a fist weakly against the side of an adobe building, regaining his composure when he spied Maerwynn rushing towards him. Her face was pale and streaked with frustrated tears. “I-I lost him. I’m sorry sire, I’ve failed you. This city! I call myself a doctor but-“ The king leaned down, embracing the smaller Imperial. “It’s okay, Maerwynn. Please, tell me what’s wrong”. The healer wore a grim frown as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Come with me, sire. I’ll show you”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The white adobe walls of the hospital came into view and Maerwynn led the way inside. Nearly half the city’s population was crammed within the building, hospital beds lining the walls. Maerwynn approached one of the beds, her fingers grasping the edge of a thin blue blanked that was draped over a mound resting atop the sheets. Euron thought there would be another sleeping drake beneath it, but as Mae lifted the blanket there was only a pile of ground rock that sparkled under the fluorescent light. “Sand?” Maerwynn stood grimly as she stared down at the sand-laden bed. “It starts falling from their eyes first, piling up as the disease progresses until it’s the only thing that remains”. A faint breeze washed in through one of the open windows, scattering the sand across the smooth tile floor. Euron looked around, noticing the smaller piles of sand that had begun to collect on many of the pillows and sheets. The drakes appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but many of their bodies were thin, even emaciated beneath the blankets. Maerwynn shook her head, “I’ve tried to keep them hydrated, supplement nutrients. . . but they all continue to waste away.” Euron ran red claws through a pile of the sand, watching as it streamed between his fingers and a familiar thrum slid against his scales. The thrum of magic. It brought a memory bubbling up to the forefront of the Imperial’s mind. The oracle’s weathered grin, her luminous pearl shining with images of the future. “Dark magic, indeed. . . The magic of witches”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “What’s wrong, love?” Dumuzid watched as his lover continued to fret, pacing back and forth before their shared nest in agitation. “This is no sickness. Despite efforts to keep magic out of Dhune, our city has still succumbed to a curse! And here I thought we had burned all traces of witches from our lands long ago!” The pair grew quiet, glancing away from each other as the painful memories resurfaced. The acrid scent of burning flesh and the screams of the witches they had captured and tethered to flaming stakes. Euron shook the memories away. “I-I’m sorry”. “It’s ok Eu. We’ll find a way to free our city from this curse.” Euron nodded tiredly as he curled next to his mate and fell asleep to the gentle caress of Dumuzid’s claws running through his mane. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Sunlight poured into the master chambers of Dhune’s palace, illuminating the sleeping forms of the two Imperials. Euron was first to rise, his body tucked part way beneath Dumuzid’s own. “Goodmorning” he whispered, but the only reply was the steady rise and fall of Dumuzid’s chest as he slept. Something sparkled in the pale light of the morning, falling from the Imperial’s closed eyes and scattering across the satin pillows. Dread filled Euron as he stared down at the glittering flecks of rock. Sand. Euron reached forward, frantically shaking his lover’s sleeping form. “Dumuzid?! Please, wake up!” His voice broke off in choked sobs as tears fell from his eyes to join the sand that littered their shared nest. “P-please. I can’t lose you too. . .”. Perhaps, he thought, it was not too late. He gathered Dumuzid into his arms, carrying him from the palace and down a series of sand-strewn streets. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The old arching doors of the hospital creaked open as Euron pushed against them. The interior of the building was silent save for the click of Euron’s claws upon the tile floor. “Hello! Maerwynn?” The king called from the doorway, but there was no reply. Indeed, the hospital was dark and even the constant beeping of machines was now quiet. Euron wandered inside, noticing the hospital beds, empty now save for the piles of sand that poured from their sides and landed silently upon the floor. They were gone. The dragons of Dhune, Maerwynn. . . nothing remained save for the cold sparkle of sand that now filled the city. Even as Euron exited the hospital, he noticed the absence of life. There was no sound. . . except for a soft, distant hum. Euron wandered towards it, still carrying Dumuzid’s sleeping form. He followed the sound down the sand-lined streets, past the palace and towards the forgotten marketplace. It was here that he saw a single drake tending one of the stalls. She hummed softly as her fingers shaped the soft mound of clay that spun before her on a wheel. She was a Skydancer who seemed impossibly old. Her frail arms were wrapped in tattered strips of cloth, twisted hands protruding from the coverings that concealed the remainder of her form. Even the Skydancer’s face was obscured behind a mask of twisted metal and tattered feathers. Euron’s heart raced as he walked closer, mesmerized by the small pot that took shape upon the Skydancer’s wheel. The clay seemed to darken on its own, intricate patterns appearing upon its hardening surface as it spun round and round until finally, the drake lifted her hands away. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “King. Euron.” A distant, cracked voice slid from beneath the Skydancer’s mask and Euron stopped short as the words reached him. “Do you remember when I first came to this City?” Suddenly the Skydancer was no longer behind the stall, but standing in front of Euron. He could see her clearly now and despite the mask that covered her face and the tattered cloth that concealed her body, Euron could still make out the features beneath. Her eyes were as black and charred as coals, faint hints of smoke still rising from the smoldering sockets. Her skin was a mess of scars and purulent pockets where it wasn’t completely burned away and her grin revealed teeth as dark and shining as shards of obsidian. “Do you remember?” Euron backed away. The memories were as clear as day. . . The healer who once came seeking solace in the City of Dhune. Yet her medicine was that of witchcraft, concoctions of strange herbs and forbidden magics. . . and worse yet, she had smuggled other magic users into the city! An entire coven of witches and the Skydancer called Godmother had been their leader. And then. . . they had all been burned. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “Stay away from me” Euron hissed as the witch approached, reaching out a gnarled claw. The Skydancer cackled in reply, a horrible, rasping sound. “Do you not like my gift?” “Gift?! You’ve taken everything! Destroyed countless lives in the process, and for what?” Godmother hummed at that, walking slowly back to the table and picking up the small clay pot she’d created. “If I recall correctly. . . it was you who first destroyed countless lives? So afraid of magic that you bound your own and sought to destroy every spark of it that crossed your sight!” Euron growled at that. “No. I gave your kind a chance! To leave or bind your magic, but you refused. . . you left me no choice!” Godmother only inspected the pot, turning it over in her claws. Her voice was a low and dangerous whisper. “What did you think the missionaries would do when you called them?” “I. . .” Euron stammered, trying to find the words to explain and justify his actions, but none came. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake, but please, don’t make the same mistake that I made!” Godmother laughed. “This is not a mistake, dear king. This. . . is revenge”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Euron watched in horror as Dumuzid’s form melted away in his grasp, sand slipping through his fingers as if fell to the ground and joined the countless sparkling dunes that had already collected upon the city’s streets. Euron fell to his knees, desperately trying to collect the sand back into his arms. ??“Pitiful king. All alone in your fallen city! Beg for my mercy and perhaps I shall end your life quickly.” Still, Euron was proud, and he stared up at the witch with defiant eyes. “A shame.” she tutted as the sand swept around her, obscuring the Skydancer from view. Euron shielded his eyes from the sandstorm, but when the winds died down once more, the witch had disappeared. Instead, something stood in her place, its form seeming to materialize from the sand that whipped in circles around it. It was a massive hound, its fur sparkling and silken as if it were made of spun gold. The creature towered above Euron, easily several times his size as it stalked towards him. The king tried to run, but the creature easily caught him in its powerful jaws, teeth sinking deep into the Imperial’s sides as it crushed him in its grasp. Still, the agony continued - over and over Euron thought that surely death would soon come. . . but it never did. Or, perhaps, he simply never noticed when his life faded away and the endless dream began. The City of Dhune echoed with his cries. . . but no one was around to hear them and eventually Dhune faded away into the desert - a lost legend buried beneath a sea of sand. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Travelers still stumble upon the City of Dhune from time to time. Beneath the mountain with its eye of sunlight, ruins of the forgotten city still peak forth from the sands. It is said that those who stay here the night might witness the echoes of a time long past - the phantom scents of incense and spices and the cries of a king mourning that which is long gone. Indeed, the City of Dhune is now a place of spirits, but their voices still call out to the living. . . warning them of the beast called Scarab that haunts these sands. [center] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=58150727] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/581508/58150727_350.png[/img] [/url][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/l0BySVs.jpg[/img][/center] [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]CHAPTER V: THE VAULT OF KINGS[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=4][i][font=sylfaen] A great vault once rested beneath the City of Dhune said to contain the accursed treasures confiscated by a mad king. Those who seek entry find that it is well hidden away and guarded by something dark that lurks in the depths of the earth. This is the tale of the Barghest, Ankh. [/i][/center] ------ [i][font=Garamond][size=7]"T[/size][size=4]ell me a story”. The pleading and curious eyes of a child glanced up hopefully. Her remark was met by a soft laugh that came from an old Spiral, his form coiled atop a creaking rocking chair that rested beside the fire. “Very well, [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58903269]Mobius[/url]. What tale would you like to hear tonight?” Mobius leapt into her grandfather’s lap, the fire casting Eldsem’s face in a warm glow. “I want to hear about the doom vault again!” Eldsem chuckled at his granddaughter’s enthusiasm. “The Vault of Dhune, child”. He cleared his throat. “An excellent tale, indeed! Now, where should we start? Let’s see; once upon a time. . .” [/i] -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] “Ok, start talking”. Mobius’ brown eyes narrowed at the spectral Spiral standing before her. “We rescued you from the city, so the least you can do is provide a bit of insight.” [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/43145556]Esker[/url] took a few steps back, raising his hands defensively. “Very well, what more would you like to know? I already told you about the plight of Dhune, about the vault, and well, you saw Scarab yourselves. Honestly a miracle we managed to escape!” “You said the vault moves? How is that possible? How can you be certain it’s not still buried under the rubble of the city?” Esker sighed. “I can’t be sure, but a long time ago, King Euron adopted a child. No one knew where he had come from. . . or where he went when he suddenly disappeared. There were many rumors! I overheard that the vault went missing around the same time that the prince disappeared, although I wasn’t entirely certain what that meant. Shortly after, those missionaries showed up. . . and everything went downhill from there!” Mobius rubbed at her forehead, closing her eyes momentarily in frustration. After years of searching for Dhune and its hidden vault, all they had found was the skeleton of the ruined city nearly swallowed by the desert sands. Every word out of Esker’s mouth only brought more questions. “What prince? What missionaries!?” Esker shrugged. “I was a duke, so I spent most of my time attending council meetings, listening to the qualms of the people, you know. Never had much of a reason to leave the palace, so most of the news I just heard about second hand. Then I sort of fell ill one day and woke up like this! Spooky, right?” Mobius groaned. “Figures”. “You know, even after living in that city for so many years, I never understood the magic prohibition. Even from the beginning, Dhune held a great deal of innate magic. Did you know it was originally of Elvish design? King Euron initially commissioned the elves to build it”. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] “Have you found out anything new?” [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/32181477]Origenes[/url] was waiting outside the tent as Mobius exited. “I suppose the vault has moved”. Origenes sensed Mobius’ disappointment. “Hey, I’m sure we’ll find it!” He said cheerfully. “Did that ghost say anything else about the city?” “Just what we already suspected, he does give some credit to the rumors about the origins of the sleeping sickness. Although I never knew there was a prince, and I didn’t realize it was an elvish architect who blueprinted the city.” Origenes hummed curiously. “Interesting, neither did I!” His eyes lit up suddenly, “although I think I know where we can find an elf to talk to”. “Oh?” Mobius questioned. “Don’t tell me they’re at that strange Cathedral the [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=254672]Disillusionists[/url] keep getting invited to?” Origenes only grinned. “. . . Figures”. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] In her grandfather’s tales, Mobius had heard rumors about The Cathedral of Eyes as well. It was not a place she was keen on visiting, granted the sheer number of inexplicable and confusing occurrences in her grandfather’s tales about the place. “Just don’t overthink it too much” Origenes shrugged, “sometimes it’s best to just chalk it up to magic and leave it at that”. Mobius glared at him. Now, she found herself standing beside Origenes, Zubeida, and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/31549106]Ashes[/url] in front of a pair of oaken doors. The doorkeeper appeared to greet them, a behemoth obsidian Imperial carrying a red rose between his jaws. Mobius tried not to think about the fact that he had no shadow, although it certainly bothered her and she frowned deeply at him as the group passed inside. “Someone’s certainly spent a lot of currency on this”. Mobius quipped dryly as she glanced around the Cathedral’s halls. Even the dragons who resided in the Cathedral were otherworldly, their forms garnished in hanging silks and jewels. She was fairly certain a few of them weren’t actually touching the ground as they walked. “I hate this place” she grumbled. “That’s not how physics works”. Origenes elbowed her. “Just try to have a good time”. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] “Hey Teska!” Origenes called out to another Pearlcatcher who was sitting beside what Mobius could only describe as a massive fire pit embedded into the floor of the room they had entered. In the center of the pit, there appeared to be an obsidian orb that rotated slowly in the heart of the fire. The golden Pearlcatcher smiled warmly as the party approached, “Origenes! Its been a while. Have you come to partake of drink tonight? I have missed your tales”. “Ah, of course!” Origines smiled broadly, “We have come seeking an elven architect! I believe you had one such individual pass through here?” Teska smiled, “Indeed. Belvedere, an architect of the Light elves. I’m afraid he went off searching for Hirondelle recently though”. Origenes opened his mouth, but Mobius chimed in before he could speak. “The City of Swallows is only a legend. Not even my grandfather glimpsed more than a few fleeting rumors regarding that city in his lifetime”. Teska grinned. “Even Belvedere had his doubts, but there have been some recent rumors of it resurfacing in the Shattered Plain. Now then, will you stay a while? There are always new tales to be shared around the fire”. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] Esker giggled drunkenly, shouting as he flung a pitcher of spirits about. How he had even managed to interact with the drinks, let alone consume them, was outside of Mobius’ comprehension. “Listen! Listen!” He shouted, as he darted around the fire, “let me tell you all a story about the great Dhune!” “When I was a lad, my family sought refuge in that city! We were so poor, no magic was the only rule and I- the impoverished son of a blacksmith took up a position in the palace! I was the pupil of an archivist who resided there. Made me read so many books! Said all the answers are written down somewhere. Bah!” Mobius listened curiously as Esker babbled on. “Oh, you want to know about those books then?” He shouted to the audience of individuals who had gathered around the fire. “Let’s see. . . I was tutored in all aspects of politics, but there were a few texts detailing Dhune’s creation and the vault. You know? That vault was meant to safe keep magical artifacts, but Euron wanted to use it to seal away anything magical that he confiscated. There were a looott of folks who tried to break in and steal back their wares. In the beginning, a few of them succeeded. . . but after a while I guess the curses and magic inside that place built up and eventually the doorway was consumed in an abyssal darkness from which no one returned”. Mobius started to wonder why Esker hadn’t shared this information earlier. “Euron stopped caring after a while. He just let those thieves try to reclaim their wares since he knew the vault itself would punish them. But before that! We had ‘the questionings’. I attended one of those once! Ye-ss I did! Someone a-talking about how they wanted to steal some kind of scryer in the vault. Or wait, maybe they wanted to use that to steal the vault? Honestly, I don’t remember the details! Memory gets a little cloudy once you’ve died!” Esker cackled at his own joke and Mobius rolled her eyes. Zubeida spoke up next. “What happened then?” Esker smiled, “Aha! A question from the audience! Well let me tell you what happened. The prince showed up after that. Came outta nowhereee. Yep. Mirza, he was called. Saw him darting around with an Imperial ‘lass who was obviously a mage. Tried to get some dagger back I think? Then ka-boom! The whole castle rumbled one night and poof! There goes the vault. Never saw Mirza again and the lass he was with came storming out of the palace muttering about how close she’d been to getting the dagger back, but- and I quote - couldn’t believe that the accursed scryer had activated”. Esker was wavering at this point, his drink spilling onto the ground as he jostled the mug. “Oho, after that I tell you Euron was furious! No more dumping the artifacts into a vault, so he took to punishing magic users again and let me tell you, that didn’t work out very well. Am pretty sure I caught whatever accursed sickness was going around, and next thing you know I’m a spectre! Spooky, right?” Esker smiled at that. “Whole city sunk down after that, haunted by some creature the witch sent after us.” He got a bit quiet then. “Although I ’suppose we deserved it after everything that happened. Ya’ know. . . everyone called her Godmother ‘cause she took in all the orphans n’ healed people. Never would have thought she was practicing witchcraft. Revenge is such a nasty thing.” Esker continued to mumble as he sprawled himself over a lounge chair and quickly fell asleep. Another individual approached, humming softly as they glanced down at Mobius and Ashes. “Quite an interesting tale” he said with a smile. “To think there would be more star scryers that the elves had created.” “Ah, excuse me?” Origenes chimed. “What exactly is a ‘star scryer’”? The Imperial grinned. “Why, its what you’ve been staring at all night!” He gestured towards the fire and the massive rotating orb at its center. “A device of elvish design that uses magic to move large-scale objects; usually entire lairs, to new locations”. “That’s impossible!” Mobius remarked. “Teleportation even of individuals and small objects is only possible due to momentary lapses in the spacial continuum. Yet, what you’re describing, the sheer amount that space-time would have to warp to teleport an entire territory. . . It is scientifically impossible.” “Indeed. There are not many who have mastered it. Yet, it does explain where the vault went”. Mobius narrowed her eyes at that comment. “What do you mean?” “I mean that if it was activated unintentionally, without a distinct destination in mind, then it would be drawn close to the location of another scryer. Since the vault was not drawn here. . . it’s likely either chasing Moondoore around in the mountains, which I find unlikely, or it has found its way back to the City of Swallows.” Mobius’ eyes widened. “What did you say your name was again?” She turned to question the Imperial, only to find that he had already disappeared. Origenes nudged her with a grin spread across his face. “City of Swallows it is then! We leave at first light!” -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] It took four days to reach Dragonhome from the Cathedral of Eyes and from there, the party set out to explore the expansive desert of sunbaked stone. They stocked up on supplies at a small outpost that skirted the border of the Shattered Plains. “Not many towns beyond here” the merchant said, “be sure you’re ready for a long journey. It’s a desolate wasteland out there.” Mirages danced before them as the stone desert stretched out endlessly. There were no trees to shade them from the sweltering sunlight that beat down and the party decided to pitch their tents during the hottest part of the day and travel instead by night. Ashes slammed a tent stake into the ground with a heavy thrust of her paw. “Mobius, I meant to ask. Why do you seek the vault? Certainly it is more than an academic curiosity?” Mobius sighed as she took a seat under the shade. “When my grandfather visited Dhune, he had something with him - an artifact that was confiscated. He talked about it in many of his stories, an old compass that allowed him to find whatever location he sought as long as he had an idea what the place looked like. That’s how my grandfather found so many artifacts and made such a great name for himself as an archeologist.” “Ah” Ashes sighed as she took a seat beside the Spiral. “I see. Something of sentimental value then. I can understand that well enough.” -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] The days drawled. Mobius found herself sweating profusely even beneath the shade of the tents and then shivering as the temperature plummeted each night. Still, Dragonhome was her birthplace, and as an Earth dragon she could at least tolerate it. It was eerie being back though and as the party traveled further into the unexplored lands of the Earthshaker’s domain, Mobius began to remember why she had left. Her vision flickered, so much was imprinted here. . . so many lost and wandering spirits and trails of past travelers that shimmered like mirages in her eyes. Her abilities as a spirit seer were a gift in many ways, but when there were so many powerful essences, it gave Mobius a headache. It was nightfall on their eighth day of travel that Mobius began to lose hope. Still, they had not found the City of Swallows and they were so deep within the heart of Dragonhome that Mobius worried they would never find their way back. Their supplies were also beginning to dwindle. They had been wandering most of the night, and Mobius felt faint with fatigue. Her vision was swimming already as the earth hummed loudly around her, invading her mind with mirages. It was then, just as the sky flickered with the faintest hues of dawn, that Mobius spotted it in the distance. There was something that shimmered with an ethereal luster, walls of alabaster emitting a nearly ghostly light. It was. . . a city. An entire city that seemed to gleam like starlight. “Do you see? Do you see it?” Mobius questioned her companions and Ashes squinted towards the horizon. “I do believe there is something there”. It was then that the dawn came and the pale walls began to fade, blurring into flickers of light that began to flit through the air as if they were a myriad of small birds. Mobius ran forward as she saw the city beginning to waver and dissipate. “Wait!” She called out into the desert. “Please wait!” She reached out a hand, but the city was already gone. “Why?” She cried out in despair and Ashes came close to embrace her as she crumpled onto the earth. “It really does exist then. It’s ok Mobius, I am sure we will find it again”. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] Two more days passed, and still there was no sign of the city. Mobius was insistent on continuing forward, but Ashes and Origenes exchanged worried glances. “We are running low on supplies. We’ll have to travel back to the outpost at least to restock, and then we can return!” Mobius frowned, “we are so close! I mean, you saw it too right?”. Their team had agreed on one more night of forward trek before heading back to restock their supplies. Mobius staggered over the rocky earth. Her pack was unusually heavy and her head pounded with incessant auras that threatened to overtake her. Then, she was falling. “Mobius? Mobius!” She could hear Ashes’ voice from somewhere above her, but she could only pant weakly from where she had fallen onto the ground. Something cool touched her forehead. “You’re burning up! Quick, Origenes, get the waterskin.” She felt the liquid touch her parched mouth and then there was only darkness. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] When she cracked her eyes open, Mobius saw light. It was night, of course, but it felt as if the night sky had fallen down upon the earth and she was completely surrounded by stars. They were so close that she might be able to reach out and touch them. She saw that her comrades were standing protectively above her and were glancing around, clearly able to see the lights as well. “So it’s not just me” Mobius mumbled. Even Esker stared in awe as the pale lights flitted around them and Mobius could see when they came near that they really did have a shape to them - small wings unfolding and beating against the midnight air as they swooped down. Then the tiny birds began to merge together, their forms melding into luminous stone as the outlines of walls and gleaming cobblestone streets came into view; the entire city materializing around them. “Amazing” Origenes whispered. Finally, the city had formed and Mobius attempted to stagger to her feet. She was so weak that Ashes had to catch her before she fell. There were tears streaming down her face. “W-we found it. Hirondelle. The City of Swallows”. “Don’t exert yourself too much” Ashes said as she slung the Spiral’s limp form onto her back. “I do believe this City found us in the end.” “Indeed”. A voice, soft and whispering, echoed through the City as a strange Nocturne appeared. Her form glowed in the same ethereal light as the surrounding buildings and her face was obscured beneath a pale mask. “Who are you?” Ashes questioned defensively. “Don’t worry” the Nocturne sighed. “I am but an illusion, a manifestation of this place. I wish only to help. Your companion is very sick. Please, follow me”. The Nocturne floated forward, leading the party towards one of the buildings. The door opened itself before them revealing several heavily bedded nests and a massive dining table piled high with food and drink as well as several bottles of tincture. “Please, rest here for the night.” The pale Nocturne turned to leave, but Esker called out. “Wait! Please tell us. Our companion is trying to find a vault that might have relocated here. Do you know anything about it?” Hirondelle hummed, her voice reverberating through the walls. “Perhaps. Travelers come and travelers go. I cannot recommend exploration though. . . I worry that my boundaries are not always safe”. At that, the Nocturne vanished. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] Mobius regained her strength quickly after drinking the tonic. Certainly, it must have been imbued with elvish magic, as was the food that immediately filled them and the nests that fully replenished their strength after only a few moments of rest. “Amazing” Origenes chimed happily as he bit into an apple and stuffed as much food as he could carry into his bags. “So, what’s the plan then? Looks like Mobius has made a full, although rather rapid recovery. We were worried about you for a moment there”. “We must find that vault before morning” Esker chimed. “The city vanishes at daybreak”. “Right” Ashes agreed. “Where do we start then?” Mobius focused. The city was full of old memories. . . she could practically hear the voices of the elves who once called this place home. She could feel the city’s sorrow at the loss of its people. Then, a trail of something that didn’t quite fit. . . a great stone door opening into the darkness. Mobius snapped her eyes open. “I know where the vault is”. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] Wandering through the city now, Mobius couldn’t help but feel sorrow as she saw the fissures and cracked walls that she hadn’t noticed at first - the telltale signs of abandonment that had allowed the architecture to fall into disrepair. Still, she guided the party towards the vault. They slipped between the luminous buildings, finally coming to several fleets of alabaster stairs that led up to the entrance of a great palace. Certainly, it had once been the home of elvish royalty. They stared up at the castle, lost in contemplation before something in the air seemed to shift. It grew. . . cold. “Run.” The voice whispered and Mobius knew it was the city speaking to them again. She stood in confusion for a moment, looking around. She froze when she saw it. Behind them, stalking through the city. The memories of their visit to Dhune flickered through Mobius’ mind. She glimpsed it only for a moment, before it stepped behind a large building. It was no dragon; it lacked wings. Its hide was a fantastic shade of pale gold. Except, no. This beast had a hide that shimmered darkly, like a twilight sky. It slunk towards them between the buildings and stared with gleaming eyes. Mobius beheld it for only a moment before adrenaline raced through her. “Run!” She cried, echoing the city’s words. They did not have time to question how such a creature had come to inhabit Hirondelle as they raced up the stairs and into the palace, slamming the doors behind them. As they did so, Mobius saw the beast lunge forward, its silken coat shining darkly as it leapt up the stairs after them. “We are going to die” Esker sobbed in despair. “Quiet, you’re already dead!” Mobius retorted. There was a thud against the doors followed by a low growl and incessant scraping. “I cannot hold it long” Hirondelle’s voice echoed. “I. . . am sorry. I fear that I have trapped you here”. “We just need to survive until morning,” Origenes yelled. “Quick, where is the vault Mobius?” “I-uh. It’s this way.” She called, already running towards a set of stairs that led down into the earth. They shut those doors behind them as well, hearing the wood behind them beginning to splinter and give as the beast lunged against it. “What is that thing?” Zubeida huffed as they ran down a long, narrow corridor below the city. “Not. . . sure” Origenes replied in short, choppy breaths. “It’s here!” Mobius yelled. “The vault. Esker, quickly, how do we open it?” “Ah” Esker said nervously, “about that. I really have no idea”. “What?! Well, try to figure it out then”. “Hmm. . .” the spectral Spiral scratched his chin as he stared at the massive stone sliding door. “Amazing it really did teleport itself all the way here!” “Esker!” Mobius snapped, “now is no time- wait shhh”. The party fell silent. The tunnels were rather dark save for the pale glow of Hirondelle’s starlight walls. Yet now, they could hear something approaching. Claws tapping against the stone, ragged breath. . . a pair of eyes gleaming in the darkness and then a flash of teeth alabaster white as the beast parted its lips into a cruel smile. “Oh“ Mobius whispered faintly. The creature was massive, its form barely fitting within the tunnels as it stared down. Mobius could tell that its breath reeked of rot and up close, she could now see the faint white gleam of exposed bone between patches of missing fur. The remainder of its coat flowed around it in dark curls and a black steel collar hung from its neck. In her terror, Mobius barely registered when Esker started shouting at her. “Oho it’s open! Quickly!” She turned to run, but she was too slow. The beast lunged first, jaws snapping quickly as its teeth sunk into her tail. Mobius screamed as she was pulled backwards before being abruptly dropped to the floor, a massive paw crushing her. She could hear Ashes’ panicked voice calling her name. Mobius closed her eyes tightly. Certainly this is where she would di- “Ankh.” The beast froze at a new voice echoed through the halls. “This is unacceptable. I see you’ve resorted to chasing visitors again like a lowly cur. I think this behavior has earned you a fitting punishment”. The beast whimpered then, looking away and licking his lips anxiously as he removed his paw from where he had Mobius pinned to the ground and slunk towards the vault, tail tucked between his legs. Mobius pulled herself away, huddling against the wall as she looked up. There was someone standing at the entrance to the vault. An Imperial with crimson scales. “Mirza?!” Esker quipped as Origenes and Ashes rushed forward to help Mobius. She was still shaking. “Wh-what is that t-thing?” She cried. She stared fearfully after the beast as it slunk past the crimson Imperial and vanished into the vault. The Imperial sighed. “All you alright? Ankh can be. . . very protective. Here, allow me to tend your wounds”. Mirza bend down before Mobius who still attempted to scramble away from him. Ashes growled, blocking the Imperial, “Why should we trust you? You appear to control the monster that nearly killed us.” Mirza smiled sadly. “I can leave you be if that is what you wish. I’ll look after Ankh more closely.” Mobius peeked from around Ashes’ form as she stared timidly at the Imperial. “Please, allow me to heal you” he repeated sincerely. -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] Mobius winced as her wound knit itself back together beneath the Imperial’s warm hands. “There we are. Now what has brought you here? Certainly it has not been easy to find this place, buried under Dhune and all”. The party exchanged glances and Esker looked at Mirza nervously. “Um. My lord. . . We are not in Dhune”. Mirza glanced at the Spiral with a laugh, “what do you mean? Of course- wait. Esker?!” The Imperial’s eyes widened. “You’re. . . hm how do I say this.” “Yes” Esker drawled, “I’m a ghost. Spooky, right? Dhune is gone! You’ve been missing for over two hundred years. Not really sure how you look exactly the same”. The Imperial stared at Esker in shock. “Where. . . am I then? This vault. I suppose I’ve lost track of time trying to manage it. . . and what of Sahiba?” “Who?” Esker questioned, “Oh the lass? She was upset about some dagger”. “Right, I found the dagger, where is she?”. Mirza’s eyes shimmered hopefully. “I honestly have no idea” Esker shrugged and the Imperial pinched the space between his eyebrows in frustration. “Ok, let me get this straight. The vault is somehow not beneath Dhune any longer? I had a suspicion it may have shifted a bit. . . I think my magic interacted with the star scryer inside when I first entered, but I suppose I never bothered to check. So, where are we then?” “Dragonhome” Mobius said quietly. “You’ve relocated into the catacombs of the elvish city Hirondelle”. “What?!” Mirza shouted. “Did you say Dragonhome? I’ve been sending Ankh to collect items for nearly two-hundred years and you’re telling me that never once did that useless beast mention that we were in Dragonhome? Let alone within a fabled elvish city, no wonder Sahiba hasn’t found me.” Mirza seemed rather flustered. “What did you say you came here for again?” Mobius cleared her throat. “I would like to request an item be returned from the vault. An old compass?” “Ah yes. I do recall archiving that item. It belonged to someone close to you then?” “My grandfather. . . It was taken from him in Dhune”. “Of course, I shall fetch it for you. I can offer each of you an item if you’d like. The cursed artifacts are off limits, of course, but I have several chests full of enchanted trinkets that don’t necessarily need to be locked away in here. Perhaps you can all find something of use.” -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] Mobius clutched the compass tightly, claws tracing over her grandfather’s initials carved into the tarnished surface. She squeaked in delight as she opened it. “Thank you!” She called to Mirza. “What will you do now?” The prince smiled. “I think we will move again. This time, I have an idea where to go. . . that Cathedral your friends speak of, they’ve given me enough of a description to scry it. I think Sahiba will find me there. After all, I’ve bound myself to this vault - I cannot leave it, but perhaps I can move it someplace where there is company. What about you?” “I intend to travel, to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps”. Mirza smiled. “Then, I wish you the best of luck. Oh, and if you stumble across anything cursed, please send it my way. I’ll send Ankh to collect it. Mobius winced at that, “what exactly is Ankh then?” “Oh, I’ve collected him because of his curse. He’s bound to my command. . . although he does push the boundaries quite a bit. He is a Barghest. I believe there are others lurking about - once mortals, tainted and warped so strongly by their curse that they are reduced to mere beasts. He actually found me some time ago. He was strong enough to invade one of my dreams. . . but I think he got in a bit over his head”. Mirza’s eyes flashed darkly. “Still, he has fetched a fair number of items for the vault and is quite useful in that regard. He’ll get a fair punishment for his actions today though”. “Oh” Mobius said, now slightly disturbed. “Well, thank you for the compass”. “It is my pleasure. Did you want to join me back to the Cathedral of Eyes then?” “Ah, I think we will be exploring the desert a bit longer”. “Very well” The Imperial sighed, “good luck on your travels then, Mobius.” -------------[font=Garamond][size=4] The vault door closed behind the Imperial, then slowly faded from Hirondelle’s walls, leaving only a bare stone corridor. The City hummed, nearly singing as Mobius and her companions wandered back out of the palace. “It seems. . . happy?” Origenes questioned. “I have heard rumor from you that an elf seeks me out” the city whispered around them. The horizon was alight now with a pale glow and the luminous buildings once more began to fade in the morning light. “I will wait here for them.” The city burst into starlit birds, hundreds of beating wings drifting upwards as Hirondelle disappeared into the dawn. “Hmm it is quite beautiful.” Origenes hummed and leaned against Ashes to watch the sunrise. “I suppose it’s time to head home then”. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there will be plenty more adventures”. [right][font=calibri][size=2][color=#bcbcbc]Special thanks to [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=254672]Disillusionist[/url] for the use of Origenes, Ashes, and Zubeida[/font][/color][/size] [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=58420627] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/584207/58420627_350.png[/img] [/url][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/HKLCXPe.jpg[/img][/center] [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]CHAPTER VI: BEYOND THE MOORS[/b][/size][/center] [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [i]There are rumors of a beast that haunts the moors. . . something that lurks in the darkness and lures dreamers from their beds and out into the lands beyond their village. This is the tale of the Barghest, Morgana. [/i] ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C]Thick fog obscured the moors, the world dark beneath the faint flicker of moonlight cast through the swirling mists. It was here that the Witchborne called Ivan was summoned - called to the aid of a small village on the outskirts of the Windswept Plateau. The letter came on brittle parchment, dark ink backlit by candle light as Ivan unfurled the paper. It spoke darkly of a beast haunting the boggy moors beyond the Zephyr Steppes. "It has already taken many of us, luring sleeping drakes out beyond the boundaries of our clan. Indeed, we fear the worst for our kin for once the beast calls them, they are not to return. . ." In response to the villiage's plea, the Witchborne came. He arrived at the Windswept Plateau by way of a small boat, docking the vessel at the edge of a river before continuing his travels into the heart of the realm on foot. A steady breeze ruffled the Skydancer's feathers, beads of fog condensing into droplets upon his scales. The air of the steppes was thick with mist and the lush ground was wet and muddy underfoot. He continued until he came to the marshy lowlands that bordered the wind region, a perimeter of old bamboo totems marking the clan's territory. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The village was gloomy and solemn, its residents struggling to persist. Indeed, sickness ran rampant amidst the villagers and few crops grew in the surrounding moors. Even the water, flooded off of nearby plague lands seemed laden with disease. Ivan was welcomed by the village and he set to work immediately as it seemed the clan's problems extended beyond the moor-beast who preyed upon them. Ivan sighed and unpacked his supplies - an array of unusual herbs and spices contained within a myriad of glass vials. Indeed, Ivan was a Witchborne blessed by the light of May's flower moon and his forte was in potion and elixer concoction that could cure disease and make crops grow in otherwise infertile soils. Several nights passed without incidence and the Skydancer worked relentlessly creating individualized medicines to cure villagers of their coughs and malaise. He worked alongside the farmers to treat their livestock and fertilize the soil with his magic such that crops could grow. Still, even after a week, the village's condition remained unchanged. Children were still bedridden with fever and the frail crops that sprouted from the ground were quick to wither and die. "This is no ordinary sickness" the Skydancer mused, his tone grave. "Your land is plagued by a curse". As if in response to the Witchborne's words, the howl of a beast echoed from somewhere beyond the clan's perimeter. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] "Lock your doors tightly!" the village elders warned, "for the beast is upon us and the night shall be long and dark". Ivan resolved to stand watch at the clan's perimeter where he spent the night looking out onto the moors. The moon overhead was bright, nearly full, and Ivan could feel his own powers surging with it. Despite his resolution, the Witchborne drake somehow found himself lulled into a dark dream - a sleeping child unlocking the door as she was beckoned out beyond the clan and onto the moors beyond. There was a pathway, old wooden boards creaking as the child's small feet carried her forward. At the path's end, reeds parted around a deep peat bog and it was here that the child stopped. Something swirled within the fog before her, its form dark and ghostly as it stood upon the marshen ground. The child looked up to the beast, extending a hand towards its form as the creature leaned down. Ivan was startled awake to the sound of villagers yelling, morning light now cast over the land. "Where is she? My daughter!" a mother cried in anguish, "my daughter is gone!". The villagers were on edge now, wary and quick to throw accusations at each other and the Witchborne they had welcomed into their clan. "Your potions have failed us and still a child goes missing in the night. . . perhaps you cannot help us after all". Indeed, Ivan felt his guilt rise at the villagers' words. "Give me one more night," he said, "for I have seen the beast in my dreams and I will either rid your clan of its presence or I shall die trying". The full moon bloomed overhead as Ivan passed the bamboo totems and wandered out onto the moors. As promised in his dreams, the remains of a decaying wooden pathway extended out onto over the dark bog, creaking as Ivan stepped upon it. He carried with him a bowl of smoking sage and the bells tied about his wrists chimed softly as he walked, whorls of smoke rising around his form. The pathway of wooden planks continued endlessly out over the marshen lands and Ivan eventually grew cold and weary of walking. The smoke drifting from his bundle of sage was petering out and he almost felt that he could hear something - a gentle voice singing a lullaby somewhere far away. Ivan was barely aware when he dropped the bowl he carried and fell unconscious upon the damp wooden slats that made up the pathway. The Skydancer knew he was dreaming when he arose, the end of the path finally in sight before him. Still, Ivan pulled himself to his feet and staggered towards it, his body feeling heavy and sluggish as if he were drugged. He stood upon the edge of the pier warily, waiting as he glanced at the fog with caution. "I am Ivan of the Witchborne," he called into the mists, voice echoing "I have come to rid this place of your curse, childeater!" It was then that something seemed to laugh, the sound resounding and echoing so loudly around the Skydancer that he couldn’t pinpoint its source. The Witchborne slumped and clutched his head as a high pitched ringing filled his ears and a voice spoke, deep and menacing, from inside the Witchborne’s mind. “Child of witches. I have long been curious of your kind. You accuse me of cursing this land and yet. . . was it not a witch who laid this curse upon me so long ago?” The voice paused for a moment, giving Ivan reprieve from its echo and the searing pain that radiated through him when it spoke. The Witchborne cried out when it returned, its tone vehement and cold. “You will die here, child of witches. It will be my pleasure to devour your last breath. . .” At that Ivan felt something hit him from behind, its force strong enough to knock the air from his lungs as his feet slid out from under him and he plummeted forward into the bog. The water was thick and almost calming as it wrapped around the Skydancer, the din of the full moon barely visible overhead as he was pulled down. His lungs burned, but Ivan refused to let the air escape them. “Do not resist” the beast whispered, her dark form wrapping around Ivan as they sunk. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Perhaps Ivan was meant to perish in that bog, but the moonlight gave him just enough strength to resist the gentle lull of death. Indeed his mind and dreaming body were in two separate places, but he knew that both were dying - the beast slowly draining his life force as it waited for him to release his final breath. Astral projection and dream walking were not his forte, but Ivan waited until the beast came close enough to his own drowning form; he only needed a brief moment of contact. With a brush of their dark feathers together, Ivan pulled. He refused to let go even as the beast fought his grasp, the two of them grappling somewhere between dreams and the waking realm. Fueled by the moon’s light, Ivan allowed his powers to surge, pulling himself back from the dream-realm into his own body. . . and the beast with him. It was too late when Ivan realized his mistake. The Witchborne convulsed on the wooden pier as he regained consciousness to the feeling of something wracking his body from within - angry as it fought the cage that Ivan had constructed for it out of his own form. The Skydancer coughed as he used his faltering powers to suppress the monster inside of him, dark blood spilling from his mouth before he collapsed into unconsciousness once more. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Ivan awoke feeling feverish and sickly. He opened his eyes slowly, noticing that he was inside of a small cabin, an elder healer sitting beside him as she adjusted the blankets that bundled his form. “You’ve saved us Witchborne”, she said as the Skydancer awoke “the fog has lifted and the sickness is gone from our kin”. Ivan attempted to speak, but a shiver wracked his body as if something crawled under his skin, his heart fluttering and squirming unpleasantly in his chest. The healer’s voice came again even as Ivan closed his eyes. “I fear, however, that it will be a burden upon you for the rest of your days.” ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Ivan bade the clan farewell and set off once more. He was weak now, the majority of his powers being channeled to keep the beast inside of him caged. Still, he offered help where he could - visiting the sick and concocting minor healing potions. Despite his work, however, the Skydancer himself remained sickly and miserable. He was plagued by horrible dreams where the beast would whisper into his mind and subject him to tortures of its pleasing while he slept. Ivan tried everything. He attempted to poison the beast inside of him and suppress its existence. He sought help from healers and other Witchborne alike who all shook their heads in dismay. “That creature is not just caged inside of you, it is entangled mind, body, and soul with your own. To separate the two would mean certain death, to you both”. Ivan nodded solemnly, resigned to his fate. All of them told the Skydancer that his time was limited as well. “Witchborne magic is fundamentally incompatible with that of the beast your harbor, Ivan. The full moon. . . will tear you apart”. Perhaps the beast had been listening too, for after hearing these words, it too fell silent. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Nearly a month had passed since Ivan had rescued the village, and the promise of another full moon loomed overhead. Ivan’s own powers grew as the moon ripened, but he felt the creature inside of him become stronger as well. As their combined magic surged, Ivan’s physical body became weaker and as the night of the full moon dawned, the Witchborne isolated himself to a small beach where he could see the stars and listen to the ocean during his last hours. Ivan closed his eyes as the first beams of moonlight shown down upon his form. He felt himself slipping away and nearly allowed himself to fade into unconsciousness before something fluttered inside of him. In his weakened state, Ivan could no longer contain the beast and he felt it break out of the cage he’d held it in. He waited for its struggling to destroy what remained of his fragile body and it wasn’t long before Ivan was crying out from the pain that wracked his form. Yet, it didn’t feel as much like he dying as it did. . . changing. Indeed, in its struggle to be free, the beast’s own dark feathers and mane of black fur erupted through Ivan’s scales; his beak-like snout elongating into a muzzle as pointed teeth erupted from his mouth. Ivan then realized in horror that he only had partial control over their shared form and it was diminishing quickly. Indeed, the beast seemed to push Ivan out of his own mind until the Skydancer was only vaguely aware of his own actions. Despite its control, the beast did not mock Ivan. Instead, they stepped towards the water, walking onto the shimmering surface of the ocean as they scented the air. Then, they took off running and it was then that the Skydancer stopped fighting entirely. In this form, the two of them felt whole and he simply allowed himself to enjoy the exhilaration of running free upon the ocean’s surface beneath the moonlight, their powers combined in harmony. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Ivan awoke with a start on the deck of a ship. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there at first, but his clothing was torn to shreds and blood stained some of his feathers and scales. Flickering memories from the night before flashed across his mind and Ivan sat up quickly, feeling panicked. “Ah, good, you’re awake! Thought we’d lost you for a moment there. Not everyday you pull a waterlogged Skydancer out of the open ocean! Ha!” “W-what?” Ivan glanced up to see an Imperial standing over him, a grin spread across his face. “Name’s Odin. Pulled you onto my ship this morning. Tell me, someone make you walk the plank?” “I er-no” Ivan began. “Must have a pretty good story how ya got out this far without a vessel then” the Captain said with a wink. “But yer welcome to stay. . . otherwise we’ll drop ya off next time we dock”. With that, the Captain was off, barking orders at his crew to prepare for voyage. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Ivan sat in a confused daze, trying without success to remember what happened. “Whose blood is this?” He mused and heard the beast’s voice echo laughter inside his mind. "You enjoyed it too". Their transformation had entangled them even further and it was difficult for Ivan to tell where his own thoughts and urges ended and where the beast's began. He was afraid. A Witchborne and a childeater. . . it wasn’t right and it shouldn’t have been possible for the two of them to merge so coherently. “Monster," Ivan thought to himself and the beast’s voice resounded in his mind. “I have a name, you know”. “Is that so, childeater?” The beast huffed at that. “It’s Morgana. Call me. . . Morgana”. [center] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=50771662] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/507717/50771662_350.png[/img] [/url][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/YDwF2hK.png[/img][/center] [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]CHAPTER VII: THE SHATTERED MIRROR[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=3][i][font=sylfaen] Word reaches Father Herald of a young princess gone missing in the night. . . leaving behind only shattered mirrors in her wake. This is the tale of the Barghest, Alabaster. [/i][/center] ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] [i]"I am worried about my sister”.[/i] The words were written in dark ink, scrawled by a shaky hand on weathered parchment. Father Herald mused over the note, his brow furrowed as he stroked his beard in contemplation. “Something wrong?” Inghinn’s voice chimed from behind, “you’ve been frowning at that letter for the past hour, father”. The priest sighed, looking up through his glasses to meet his assistant’s gaze, “here, tell me what you think”. Nimble claws grasped the letter, Inghinn’s eyes falling down to meet the scrawling cursive. Some of the words were badly smeared amidst a smattering of ink blotches. A few also appeared to be crossed out in haste, the paper beneath damaged from where a quill had been scraped across it. Still, Inghinn could make out fragmented sentences. . . and so, she began to read. [i]“Dearest ---, I hope this letter finds you well. Tonight, I write with concern. . . You see, I am worried about my sister. It all started a few weeks back. As you know, we are isolated here, our palace the last standing of civilization between the foothills and the heights of the Cloudscrape Crags. Past us looms the mountains. . . an unknown from which none return. At least, we thought. We found someone wandering down from the peaks - nearly frozen.” Inghinn squinted, the writing growing less legible as she continued to read. “S-e brought some-ing down from the mountains with her. We found it on her, wrapped into her robes. It was a —, but when we asked about where she found it, she w— speak. She didn’t survive until morning. K— has it now. I fear the worst. I pray to the Icewarden to bring my sister back to me, but she is ob-essed with i—. If you’re reading this, please come quickly. We will be at 27.9881° N, 86.9250° E until the next turn of the moon. Yours, - K——“ [/i] Inghinn flipped the letter over, noticing a crimson seal that had been broken open. “Father, where did you say this came from?” Inghinn’s claws traced the broken wax. “The town elder gave it to me. Said it was left behind by a guest who passed through a week ago. Said he was headed to the Southern Icefields. . . to Moondoore”. Moondoore. Herald reminisced over the name, eyes pensive as he stared into the fire. There were a great many tales about the castle. It was built as an outpost to protect the Southern Icefields against whatever loomed high within the mountains. Its recruits were outcasts and prisoners sworn into the service of the royal mages who ruled over the palace. “Father?” Inghinn’s voice chimed once more, “pardon me for interrupting your thoughts but. . . what is Moondoore?” The priest continued to gaze into the hearth, “it’s a place for those with no where else to go.” There was a silent accord between them as Herald spoke, “Alert Rowan, we leave at first light”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Dawn broke with a pale light as Inghinn and Rowan finished securing the final straps on their packing harnesses, their breath opaque upon the winter air. Herald kneeled down, extending a wing to allow his assistants access to his back. “I’m sure we can handle the distance flying on our own, father” Rowan grumbled as he and Inghinn clamored up the priest’s outstretched wing and seated themselves amidst the mane of fur running down his back. “Perhaps, but the winter brings additional hardships and I need someone to navigate”. Inghinn nodded, pulling a compass from her robes. Once they were settled, Herald leapt upwards, tucking his limbs against his body as several powerful wingbeats brought them airborne. The surrounding conifers bent in their wake as Herald pulled above the tree line, allowing his wings to snap open into a glide as he coasted on the air currents. The town of Arrowstone and its red river faded away into a patchwork of land beneath them. Inghinn had to shout to make herself heard over the roaring wind, “redirect, 20 degrees to the left, we’re headed south!” Trails of vapor whirled around Herald’s wings as he broke through a bank of clouds, the ground no longer visible beneath them. “We’re reaching altitude, should be passing over the southern sea shortly” Inghin called. They had stopped once, at the edge of the Windswept Plateau to rest and restock on supplies before facing a two day flight over the open ocean. It was a brutal place to fly and Herald braced himself as a powerful air current slammed into him from the side, his wings straining to stay on course. The majority of the currents here were in disarray and could easily fatigue even the strongest of flyers, but there was a trick to making the voyage by air. “Just a little higher, the Zephyr Stream should be just above us” Rowan’s voice called through the wind as the Skydancer gripped Herald’s fur tightly. With a final beat of his wings, the Imperial burst into the winding airstream that spanned the oceanic airspace between the Twisting Crescendo and the Southern Icefield. Herald spread his flight feathers wide, catching the draft of the Zephyr Stream as it carried them towards their destination. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Golden claws scraped across the ice as Herald landed. The farther into the Icefields they ventured, the more dangerous it became to travel by flight and the trio had only made it as far as the Snowsquall Tundra before turbulent conditions forced them down. “It looks like a storm’s brewing” Herald said with a glance back up towards the sky. “We should find shelter for the night and continue on foot in the morning”. Inghinn and Rowan nodded their agreement. “There are no major clans on our map of this area” Inghinn mused, “but let’s head towards the tree line, we’re bound to run into something there”. Snow crunched underfoot as the trio wandered onwards, their path finally colliding with a small village nestled amidst a dense swath of conifers. “Pinebarren” Rowan stated as he scraped the snow from an old sign at the edge of the clan, “never heard of it”. Herald inspected the sign in turn, taking in the worn letters carved into decaying wood, “neither have I. Still, it’s our best option. Let’s see if they can accommodate us for the night”. Aside from the gentle rustle of branches in the wind, Pinebarren was silent. The village had the marks of an old logging community, stacks of felled trees surrounding the perimeter while a series of run down cabins rested at the heart of the town. Still, the wooden structures buckled beneath heavy ice-laden roofs and several feet of snow obstructed the majority of the windows and doors. “This place looks abandoned” Rowan scoffed as he attempted to peer into a partially obscured window. Indeed, nobody had been in or out of the cabins for several weeks and many of the roofs had already collapsed without regular clearings of the snowfall. “If there’s no one here, then there’s no one to mind if we make use of the shelter” Herald mused. He selected a cabin with minimal structural damage, “come, help me clear the door”. Once the snow had been shoveled away, the cabin door swung open with a resistant groan. Inside, the structure was dark and musty. Its interior consisted of a pile of heavy pelts heaped into a circular nest along with a stone hearth and a massive stack of firewood piled nearly to the ceiling. Inghinn and Rowan began arranging logs in the hearth, eager to start a fire as Herald inspected the remainder of the structure. An old taxidermy deer’s head hung from the stone wall beside a row of axes. Herald brushed an empty set of hooks on the wall where he presumed a third axe once rested. His thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable crunch of glass underfoot. The priest looked down to find several reflective shards scatted across the floor, many of them spattered with dark stains. “Something wrong?” Inghinn called as she approached, “we’ve got the fire stared- oh, is that a broken mirror?” Herald picked up one of the shards, turning it in his hand as he inspected the dark stain that marred its reflective surface. It was old and dry, but the metallic scent was unmistakable. “Indeed” Herald replied quietly, “a broken mirror and blood”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Herald barely slept that night, his thoughts restless as he stared into the fire. Inghinn and Rowan curled under his wings and he pulled them close, his feathers forming a blanket around their sleeping forms. Outside, the wind howled, rapping against the cabin’s walls as the storm raged on. It wasn’t until the fire burned itself down to glowing coals that Herald finally closed his eyes and fell into a fitful slumber. He dreamed about a princess. Her scales were ashen and her clothing reduced to mangled and dirty shreds of fabric slung around her form. Alone and confused in the darkness, Herald strained to hear her words. “He- please. Some-ne! He-l p! Can any-ne hear me?” Her voice echoed and Herald tried to reach out towards her, finding an invisible barrier standing between them, “where are you?” Herald attempted to ask. “I d-n’t kno-w. Pl-eas she’- comin- back.” With that the princess’ image shifted until the priest found himself staring only at his own reflection. He became aware of something howling with the wind, the sound of a beast approaching through the snow and- He started awake as the cabin’s door flung open. Herald was up in an instant, wings flared as he prepared for an attack. “Gunther? Did you retur- Oi! Who are you!?” A voice snarled as another Imperial stepped through the doorway. He was dressed in a heavy wolf pelt that covered the majority of his head and shoulders, tattered scraps of cloth concealing the remainder of his body. “Ah, a priest” the stranger scoffed as he eyed Herald’s robes, “never thought I’d see your kind breaking and entering”. Herald remained tense, “Indeed, we thought this village was abandoned. Who are you?” The Imperial laughed, “right. Name’s Baltimore, but most people just call me ‘Balto’ for short. Welcome to what’s left of Pinebarren, I suppose. Used to be a great little logging juncture we had going here, ‘till everyone up and left all’ve sudden. I saw the smoke coming up from the chimney and thought someone might’ve returned”. Balto finally shut the cabin door, scuffing his feet against the floor as he leaned against the wall with crossed arms. “So, what brings servants of the Lightweaver so far from home?” “We found a letter” Herald replied, earning a raised brow from the other Imperial. “Really?” Herald pulled the crumpled parchment free from his robes, offering it as Balto leaned forward from the wall and snatched the letter with a swipe of his arm. Dark eyes gazed over the cursive as Balto frowned. “Interesting. I suppose you’re looking for Moondoore then? The castle docked in the foothills a few weeks back. It’s not far from here, I can take you in the morning”. Herald nodded, “that would be appreciated, certainly we could use a guide. Still, Pinebarren’s abandonment concerns me as well - can you tell me anything more about what happened here?” Balto sighed, leaning against the wall once more. “Happened on the last new moon when I was off scouting the woods. I must’ve left around nightfall; came back in the morning and found everything abandoned. Tried to track’em down - find out where everyone had gone, but there’s nothing to track. Only things I found were a few doors left open and broken glass inside most of the cabins.” ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The next morning, Balto led the trio up towards the mountains. The sky was bright, sunlight shining down and illuminating the crystalline landscape as the four travelers trudged on through the snow. Their breath left them in thick clouds of condensation as they scrambled up the rocky inclines of the foothills, finally reaching a plateau on the mountainside. It was nearly dark by the time they neared their destination, the last rays of sunlight casting pale shadows upon the ground. “Castle is just up ahead” Balto huffed, “this is where I leave you, followers of the Lightweaver. I hope you find the answers you seek”. Before they could ask him any additional questions, Balto’s dark form was already darting down from the cliffs and disappearing once more into the snow-capped forest below. “Didn’t even have a chance to thank him” Inghinn muttered before turning back towards their path, “we should continue, the castle should be right around the c-“ Inghinn stopped short as they rounded a bend in the mountainside and stared up at a palace of white stone. Glittering spires of ice rose up from the bastions and frosted stained glass windows shimmered in the evening light. Several long flights of stairs led up to an old drawbridge style door that stood proudly at the entrance, decorative spirals of iron riveted to the wood. The travelers stood in awe, beholding the structure before something cold and sharp pressed against the side of their necks. “Who goes there?” A voice rang out as an Imperial stepped from behind the trio. She was dressed in royal blue and silver, a scepter clutched in her claws as several swords floated around her, their blades gleaming as they rotated once more to point at Herald and his assistants. The priest raised his arms in surrender, “a-apologies, my name is Father Herald and these are my assistants, Inghinn and Rowan. We received word that you might be in trouble here”. The blade pressed against Herald’s scales as he fumbled to pull the letter free from his robes once more, allowing it to float out of his grasp when the Imperial’s magic tugged it from him. “I see”. She said shortly, willing the swords to fall back into alignment at her side as she glanced at the letter with a quick nod of recognition. “Indeed, my sister went missing several days ago. This letter was not meant for you though, how did you come across it?” Rowan brushed the side of his neck, smoothing several scales that had been misplaced by the mage’s sword, “found it at a tavern - the town’s elder said she was worried about whoever passed through with it several days prior. We’ve come to help”. The mage scoffed. “I think that Moondoore can handle its own matters, but since you are already here. . . Please, follow me.” “And you are?” Inghinn questioned with a quizzical brow. “I am lady Kurra, princess and ruler to the throne of Moondoore.” ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Footsteps echoed on the frozen marble floors as Herald and his assistants followed Kurra into the palace. The inside consisted of an expansive entry hall, twin arching staircases connecting to an upper floor while a set of massive wooden doors rested straight ahead, opening on their own as Kurra walked toward them. The space beyond was a circular throne room, reflections shimmering in a number of mirror-like panels that lined the walls as they entered. An enormous stone orb rested in an indent at the center of the room and the sky above was visible through an open ceiling. Inghinn glanced up, noting that there was no glass covering the port. Still, she presumed it was enchanted, watching as several snowflakes fell towards it, disappearing before they entered the palace. Herald took a moment to glance at the stone orb, noting the continent-like markings etched into its surface. A globe. “I’ve heard stories about these” he said slowly, glancing up at Lady Kuura. “Indeed. You’re looking at one of the last Star Scryers”. She tapped it once with a curved claw, flickers of light blossoming across the grey stone as it began to rotate, levitating from the ground. Inghinn gasped as she saw the light explode outwards from the globe, casting a map of the heavens across the reflective walls of the throne room. Kuura continued willing the globe to rotate, watching as the constellations it cast slowly changed, reflections of landscapes appearing and fading in the mirrors. “The Scryer will be fully charged in three days. Moondoore has important business in this region that we will attend to before the castle moves, but you are welcome to stay until then”. Herald frowned, “what matters brought you here to begin with?” Kuura narrowed her eyes, “As you know, Priest, Moondoore was established to protect this realm from threats. We received reports of a beast lurking in the woods here and tracked it back to the logging town at the base of the mountains. We intend to capture and neutralize the threat. It disguises itself as an Imperial - covering its form in a wolf pelt to hide its true nature. . .” She paused for a moment, eyeing Herald suspiciously. “You haven’t seen anything, have you, Priest?” ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “Why did you lie, father?” Inghinn’s voice was a hushed whisper as the trio exited Lady Kurra’s throne room, following an escort upstairs to an enormous guest suite. “Something isn’t right here," the priest muttered, "I am uncertain what to believe, but while we’re here for the next three days, we might as well investigate the princess’ disappearance. Rowan?” The Skydancer stepped forward, clearing his throat as he opened a journal of notes. “Right, according to the stories, Moondoore is typically ruled over by the twin mages - Kurra and Kiuru, who are the only two capable of moving the castle using the Star Scryer. It is unknown how many others occupy Moondoore currently, but we will need to figure that out if we are to avoid detection”. Herald nodded, “right, we can add the maiden who showed us to the guest wing to that list”. Rowan nodded, scribbling several notes about the pale Imperial called Isolde. “We will also need to find out how to access Kiuru’s chambers; if she disappeared from the castle, perhaps there are clues there”. The room fell silent before Inghinn spoke once more. “Do you think it’s another one of [i]them[/i], father?” “That’s why we’re here. . . but we know so little, it’s hard to tell. Certainly, I’ve started having the dreams again, but the Lightweaver’s gift of insight often acts in mysterious ways. . .” ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Dreams brought Herald back to the darkness. The princess he had previously encountered was nowhere to be found, but something shiny caught the priest’s eye. He leaned down, golden claws grasping something in the darkness. It was smooth and cold, gleaming dully despite the lack of light. The priest recognized it as a silver hand mirror as he brought it towards his face. An image of Lady Kuura suddenly came into view in front of him, her back turned as she sat at a desk. Herald attempted to walk closer, finding yet another invisible barrier separating him from the remainder of the dream. The princess appeared to be talking to herself in a hand mirror identical to the one that Herald now held. “I’ve failed my sister. . . I should have seen the signs sooner, should have trusted those warnings. I just want to be with her again, please.” A single tear trailed down Kuura's face before she suddenly slammed the mirror down. “H-hello? Is someone there?” She got up quickly, glancing around the room with wild eyes as the dream faded and the room started shaking. “Herald?” “Herald?!” The priest awoke in a cold sweat as Inghinn and Rowan shook him awake. “Was that another one of your dreams? You looked like you were having a seizure for a moment an- and then. . .” Inghinn trailed off, glancing over at a mirror that had been hanging on the wall of the guest room. The frame was now empty, shattered glass laying haphazardly across the floor. “D-did that break on its own?” He questioned, still short of breath. “Y-yes. . . except”. “What?” Inghinn was silent for a moment, whittling her thumbs nervously. “I thought I saw something in the mirror right before it broke a-and then this flew out of it along with the glass”. The Pearlcatcher held something up, a bloodied axe clutched tightly in her hand. It was identical to the two others that Herald had seen previously hanging on the cabin wall in Pinebarren. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Dawn brought with it a commotion that consumed the castle. “What’s going on?” Herald asked when the maiden Isolde came to inform them of breakfast. “O-oh” she started nervously, “another one of our warriors went missing last night. . . I-I can’t say more, but I’m sure there will be talk of it during breakfast. I heard you came to investigate Lady Kiuru’s disappearance. Everyone has been on edge since she vanished. . . Lady Kuura is distraught with her absence. I hope that you find her”. Herald nodded solemnly, following Isolde back down the arching staircase to the first floor. He could already hear a commotion of voices coming from the dining hall, waiting outside for a moment as Inghinn and Rowan caught up before the trio entered. The doors opened into an enormous room laden with crystalline chandeliers that hung over a massive oaken table. The room’s northern wall was comprised of a series of glass panes that offered a view of the tundra and surrounding forest. Lady Kuura was absent, but three other Imperials huddled around the table. “Things have been chaos ever since we came to this location. We need to find that Moonbeast before he takes another from us.” “I agree with Beowulf! First that entire village vanished, then Lady Kiuru, Selene, and now Nadir! We have never hunted a creature like this before, but if we do not succeed, it is only a matter of time befo-“ The dark Imperial stopped short as Lady Kuura joined them, emerging from an entrance opposite the one that Herald and his assistants currently stood in. “Lady Kuura” the Imperial said curtly, all three of them bowing in her presence. Kuura graced them with a nod before glancing towards Herald, “please, take a seat, guests are welcome to join us”. The warriors of Moondoore turned to face the trio as well, embarrassed that they had not realized the guests’ presence sooner”. “As our Lady says, please join! We seldom get visitors in these parts. I am Ash and these” one of the Imperials said, gesturing to her comrades, “are my fellow warriors, Beowulf and Undine. I see you’ve already met Isolde as well.” Undine was next to speak, “apologies that you were privy to our conversation earlier - we are all on edge right now as two of our warriors and Lady Kiuru have already vanished thanks to the Moonbeast we are hunting.” Beowulf only grunted in agreement as Isolde returned from the kitchen with several platters of food. “Thank you, Isolde” Kuura added, “your cooking is fantastic, as always”. Rowan glanced down as Isolde set a plate before him - a hearty stew filling the bowl to the brim. He was quick to spoon several heaps into his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss. “Hmm habnt hab hot food in shooo lomng”. Inghinn looked at him with disgust, “don’t speak with your mouth full, brother”. Their antics urned a soft chuckle from Lady Kuura. “So, what progress have you all made in tracking the beast?” Beowulf stood from the table as she spoke. “As you’re all aware, we came here three weeks ago to track it and found it escaping from the logging town of Pinebarren right after the mass disappearance of the townsfolk. We have not been able to locate any bodies associated with the disappearance, but a total of eight dragons are currently unaccounted for including three of our own”. Undine chimed in next, continuing where her comrade left off. “Recently, we’ve spotted the Moonbeast lurking around the forest and town, but we’ve been unable to track its den. Granted our proximity to the new moon, it is gaining strength and continues to evade our attacks. Attempts to lure it into a trap have been unsuccessful.” Kuura contempleted the report. “Which of you last engaged with this beast?” “I saw it last four days ago stalking around Pinebarren” Beowulf added in a gruff voice. "Followed it into one of the cabins and nearly lost an arm when it attacked me with an axe. Smashed one of the mirrors before it disappeared". There was a moment of silence before Herald finally spoke up. “We. . . saw the beast yesterday. It guided us up the mountain and disappeared before we reached the castle. . . though I do wonder why it didn't attack us sooner.” Kuura’s eyes narrowed at the remark. “And what makes you so willing to share this information now, priest?” Herald flinched at the princess’s scathing tone. “We. . . found this last night in the guest room," he said, pulling the old axe from his robes, "and I believe we know how to trap him”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] It was not until nightfall that the warriors set their trap for the Moonbeast, returning the following morning with the creature ensnared in a massive silver cage. “Exactly as you said, priest” Beowulf called, “just lit a fire in one of the cabins and he ran straight inside - right into the cage.” With the new moon approaching later that evening, and the beast’s form had doubled in size from when Herald had seen him last. He now stood nearly three times the height of an adult Imperial, his claws elongated into ebony scythes and the pelt he wore previously had been discarded - too small to cover him. Still, the beast barely needed it as his own head had taken on the form of an enormous wolf, his lips parting into a snarl as the cage was carted into Moondoore’s throne room. “Good work” Kuura remarked as she inspected the beast, prodding him with the tip of her scepter through the silver bars. “Now, beast. Where is my sister?” Baltimore yelped as Kuura clenched her fist, an unseen magic wrapping around him and forcing him down onto the floor of the cage. He paddled his legs wildly as he struggled against her, thrashing himself against the bars. His words were slow and slurred, his form making speech difficult. “I did not. . . take her”. Kuura glared furiously. “No. Your kind can make dragons disappear without leaving a trace! You've already attacked my warriors, devoured an entire village. . . You will admit to your sins, beast! How many have you killed? Tell me NOW!” Baltimore fell silent, and despite Kuura’s prodding, he refused to speak more. Still, the princess continued her assault, drawing blood from the beast, which now stained the cage’s silver floor. Herald couldn’t stomach the torture, guilt eating away at him for helping to catch Baltimore. “P-please excuse me, princess. . .” His words were lost as Kuura’s rage grew and she barely registered the priest’s departure. Only Baltimore’s eyes followed him as he left. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Father Herald climbed the stairs with a heavy sigh. Something felt horribly wrong and he barely reached the second floor when the sound of shattering glass echoed from the hallway. Curious, Herald turned left at the top of the stairs, venturing past several rooms before he came to a set of twin doors at the end of the hall. One of the doors was already ajar and Herald pushed it open, the room inside a massive circular space, its far wall constructed similarly to the dining hall with a series of glass panels that looked out onto the mountainside. The floor was a mess of shattered glass, a mirror on the wall broken to pieces, several of the dangling shards still falling loose from the frame. Herald peered inside, his eyes landing on the massive bed that sat opposite to the door, heavy drapes hanging from the canopy and something dark curled atop the nest of blankets and pelts. The form shifted and Herald recognized its clothing, the same tattered garments that princess Kiuru had been wearing in his dream except. . . it was too late. The beast lifted its massive head, white teeth gleaming as it snarled and slunk from the bed. Long dark fur hung from its body, vacant white eyes locking onto the priest as he backed away. “Father?” A voice came from behind and the beast shied at the sound. It leapt from the bed and darted towards the broken mirror, shards levitating from the floor and reforming the reflective surface as the beast vanished through the glass. “Father? What are you doing here?!” Heart pounding, Herald turned to see Isolde standing behind him. “Guests are not allowed in the mages’ rooms.” “I- apologies. I heard something and-“ Isolde lifted an eyebrow quizzically. “The beast has been captured, Father. Soon, we will uncover the fate of our kin. . . If that was not your intent, then why are you here?” At that Father Herald glanced down nervously, “we really did come to help after finding the letter that Kuura sent. . . I just don’t know if we trapped the right beast”. Herald pulled the note from his robes once more, passing it to Isolde whose frown deepened as she read. “Father. This letter. It was not written by Lady Kuura. . . this is Kiuru’s penmanship. She must have written it before she disappeared.” Herald stared down at the words in silence. In dread. If the one who had already been turned into a beast had written this then. . . [i]“I am worried about my sister”[/i]. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Herald swore as he raced back to the guest wing, calling to Rowan and Inghinn. "Pack now, we need to leave". The palace had fallen into an eerie silence by the time they emerged, and not even Isolde could be found. They snuck down the stairs, Inghinn pressing against the main door, but it refused to budge without the influence of the mage’s magic. The only other door that remained unlocked was that of the throne room. Herald could hear whispering coming from within, hesitating with dread before he pushed against the twin doors. Night had fallen, starlight sparkling down through the open ceiling. The Moonbeast, Baltimore, still laid inside the silver cage, his breathing ragged and his fur soaked in a pool of his own blood that shimmered darkly. The Star Scryer now glowed, casting constellations against the mirror-like walls. The three warriors were nowhere to be seen and only princess Kuura remained, bent over as she muttered to herself. Herald gestured for his assistants to stay back, but he had only to take a few steps forward before he realized that Kuura was speaking to something clutched tightly in her claws. It was a mirror that glinted ominously under the light. “I’ve done all that you’ve asked. I-I’ve-“ Something whispered in return and Herald watched in horror as the princess’s reflection shifted into that of a beast - pristine white fur framing its dark eyes. "Yes. You've done well and now. . . you belong to me too. Our bond. . . is. . . complete". Kuura cried out suddenly, crumpling to the floor with a sob of pain. She thrashed against the cold marble, her body shifting and contorting as it reshaped itself. A mane of white fur spilled from Kuura’s scales, an additional row of jagged teeth erupting between her jaws as her flesh and bones reknit. She dropped the mirror then, glass shattering as it fell to the floor. And then she stood, her form now dwarfing even that of the Moonbeast. Opaque eyes locked onto Herald and the beast roared. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “Father!” Inghinn and Rowan yelled, darting into the room as the beast's gaze shot in their direction, the doors slamming shut behind the two assistants. The princess's claws tapped against the ground as she stalked towards the priest, mouth open in a toothy grin as her voice reverberated through the room. Except, she was no longer Kuura. “Ah. Father. It has been. . . quite a while. . . has it not? I see that no one has bitten you yet either. . . but I shall remedy this tonight. It is, after all. . . Godmother’s wish”. Herald snarled, pulling a sword free from its scabbard beneath his cloak as the beast lunged. Teeth snapped against iron and the monster grinned around the sword in her mouth, ice crackling across its surface as the blade began to freeze in her grasp. The priest grimaced as the cold reached his hands, now burning where they touched the hilt. “Alabaster” he grunted, the beast smiling as he spoke her name before she tossed her head, lifting Herald and flinging him against the wall. One of the massive mirrors cracked upon impact and Herald barely had time to right himself before he cried out, something cutting deep into his shoulder. The head of another beast had formed from the mirror shards, its teeth spears of glass embedded deep into Herald’s flesh. “Herald!” Inghinn called nervously as she glanced at the mirrors. An entire pack of the creatures flashed by inside the reflective surface and Herald ducked lower as the reflection of another beast ran towards the mirror, glass shattering as it burst through the surface. Alabaster’s voice shook the room. “You are. . . outnumbered father” she teased. Herald could see eyes watching him from the glass. . . he recognized some of them as the warriors of Moondoore, the groundskeeper, Isolde, and the princess Kiuru, all of them now lost to the curse. Another beast broke through the mirror, shards of glass coalescing and merging to create its form before it leapt towards the priest. Herald was forced to drop his sword as another set of glass jaws clamped around his arm. Alabaster stared at him for a moment, his form held still within the jaws of her pack. She hummed as a gnarled ebony claw tapped against the Star Scryer and Herald’s eyes widened when he realized her intent. The globe lifted once more into the air, glowing bright as it cast constellations against the walls. “Now now, father. Stay still.” Alabaster crooned, stalking closer. “This will be the end of the great Father Herald! I will take. . . everything from you. . . and you will gut your own assistants. . . before bowing before me.” She snarled, parting her jaws wide. Herald struggled, but Alabaster’s mirror servants held him in place. A flash of white lunged toward him just as a clatter sounded and something dark crashed into Alabaster’s form. The white beast turned and snapped, jaws colliding with those of the Moonbeast that now stood, fighting against her. Under the new moon, Baltimore’s form was feral and massive, his strength surging with enough force to break free from the silver cage. The beasts snarled and snapped, their bodies entangling as they fought. Herald felt the jaws of Alabaster’s servants release him as they joined the fight, clamoring atop Baltimore who shook them away with a roar. “Father! Inghinn shouted, we need to leave now!” Her eyes were wild as she took in the scene, Baltimore growling as his massive claws struck one of the servants, its form shattering into glass before reforming and lunging to attack him once more. He yelped as Alabaster sunk fangs deep into the side of his neck, coming away bloodied as she snarled. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “T-the doors are locked” Rowan cried as he pushed against them. “W-we’re stuck here”! Herald limped towards them, leaning feebly against the wood. The castle around them was taking on a lucency, stone and glass beginning to fade as the Star Scryer spun faster, its magic engulfing the castle as it prepared to move the structure to a new location. Baltimore's tail swung, smashing several mirrors as he grappled with Alabaster. They had only moments before the castle moved and Herald dreaded where it would take them - likely somewhere high within the Cloudscrape Craigs where escape would be impossible. Finally, Baltimore slammed the white beast down, leaping away as he barreled towards the door. Under his weight, the wooden panels splintered before giving way and he managed to grab hold of the priest and his assistants before leaping towards the exit. Alabaster laughed eerily as she watched the priest depart. “You can run. . . Father. . . but you will never. . . escape”. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Herald and his assistants tumbled from Moondoore’s entrance in Baltimore's embrace, falling into the snow as the castle flickered transparently before vanishing all together. Silence met them, broken only by shaky, uneven breaths, and the pounding of their own hearts. Finally Baltimore released them, righting himself and shaking snow from his form. The Moonbeast appeared uninjured, his wounds healing rapidly with the influence of the new moon. Still, there was a considerable amount of blood staining the snow around them. “F-father” Rowan called with concern, “you’re hurt”. Herald winced as he attempted to stand, blood pooling from the bites littered across his wings and arms. Still the only thing that mattered was. . . Herald pressed a hand to the side of his neck, coming away red where Alabaster’s fangs had grazed his flesh. He was silent, the beast’s words repeating over and over in his mind. “You cannot. . . escape”. Baltimore stood quietly before gazing up at the mountains and beginning to walk away. "Where will you go?" Herald questioned as he watched the Moonbeast depart. "I will find them again". "Are you not afraid of the mountains?" Inghinn chimed, "of what lurks there?" At that, Baltimore smiled, a toothy grin. "Am I not such a creature meant to lurk there? I am accepted nowhere else save for the logging town that once took me in. My family is lost in these mountains. I will find them". The beast sauntered away, turning back to the priest once more. "I forgive you, Father. You know, that princess asked me how many I have killed. . . I may be cursed, but never have I taken a life." With that, the Moonbeast wandered away, darting upwards before his dark form disappeared high into the mountains. ------- [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The castle of Moondoore no longer stands to protect the Southern Icefields, but those who climb into the mountains sometimes report seeing a palace resting somewhere high amidst the peaks of the Cloudscrape Craigs. Over time, new rumors sprouted in the villages as well. “Always cover your mirror at night” a mother scolds, tucking her child into bed. “Least the monsters find you while you sleep and steal you away in the night. Pray to the Moonbeast that he may protect our village from harm. . . for there are a great many things that lurk in the darkness”. [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=21065162] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/210652/21065162_350.png[/img] [/url][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/fb0ciIE.jpg[/img][/center] [center][size=7] [b][font=sylfaen]CHAPTER VIII: THE LORD'S LIGHT[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=4][i][font=sylfaen] The Ravenswood monastery was built as a place of worship; a beacon for those seeking salvation. It is now a place long abandoned and consumed by darkness, but some still hold onto faith. . . for surely even the darkest and most cursed of things can still be saved. This is the tale of the Barghest, Blackmore. [/i][/center] ------ [i][font=Garamond][color=#4D3F2C][size=6]"P[/size][size=4]lease help us.[/i] [size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C]Golden claws clutched at a slip of rolled parchment, spreading the paper further to reveal the scrawling text that spelled out the woes of yet another haunted community. Such summonings came often, notes tied to the limbs of messenger ravens sent from across Sorneith. [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/73777649]Argent[/url] knew what to expect by now, the echoes of many other letters blending together in his mind. “[i]Something has come to our town[/i]” they would read. “[i]It has already destroyed our crops. . . stolen our children. . . slaughtered our families[/i]”. Argent did the same as he always had. He read the plea and stamped it with a dark seal before replacing it once more upon the raven who had brought it. The hunter hoisted a mahogony case onto his shoulder as he watched the raven fly off into the distance. He would be there soon. -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The most recent plea brought Argent to a small town living at the edge of the Churnscar Wharf. He arrived by way of a small ship, the tang of saltwater crusted upon his scales as he descended a short wooden ramp onto the docks. In the afternoon sun, Argent’s shadow stretched beside him, flickering slightly at the edges as if something stirred in its depths. “Excuse me” the hunter asked one of the other passengers departing the ship. “Would you direct me to the nearest tavern?” He received a grin from the large Ridgeback, “hah, right off the ship and yer already itching for a drink huh? It’ll be right up that there first street. Don’t stay out too late though. Been something amiss in this here town as of late. The Afterdark might steal you away!” With that the seafaring Ridgeback headed off in the opposite direction, whistling as he went. Argent found the tavern with ease. A faded wooden sign hunt over the entrance, creaking softly in the gentle breeze. He could barely make out the words “Ye Olde Barnacle” over a sun bleached image of a barnacle-encrusted whale. A small bell chimed as he pushed the door ajar and entered. Inside the tavern was dark and smelled strongly of spilled alcohol and mildew. It was here that Argent sat, waiting at the bar as he downed several scotches. His ears swiveled as he listened to the parties around him until finally. . . “You” a nervous voice echoed, “you’ve been marked!” The words caught the hunter’s attention as he tuned into the conversation behind him. “It-it’s not what you think!” A scrawny Skydancer defended, “just a bruise from the docks today, nothing more”. “Really?” A larger Nocturne was staring down the first drake. “Because it looks an awful lot like a black spot. The Afterdark is coming for you, Lucas! And I, for one, will not be in the wake surrounding you when it does! Whose with me!” The remainder of the tavern that had fallen silent now resounded with angry calls of agreement. Argent left several golden coins at the bar before grasping hold of the mahogany case he carried and wading into the angered crowd. “No need for violence” he called as he approached the Skydancer. “I shall escort our friend out”. “Come” Argent gestured as he held the door open. He noted that the sun had just set outside, a faint orange glow the last reminder of daylight against a blackened night sky. The pair stepped out into the darkness. --------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “Now, may I see your hand?” Argent asked, “It’s Lucas, right?” The Skydancer nodded nervously. “Y-you’re not afraid?” He asked quietly as he extended his right hand towards the Pearlcatcher. “I was called to this place to help” Argent replied staring down at a ring of the Skydancer’s scales that had turned black with corruption. Argent could smell the foul magic that erupted from the wound, and he heard a hiss from his shadow in agreement. “W-what was that?!” Lucas whispered, pulling his hand back rapidly. “Nothing to worry about” Argent replied, “at least not yet”. “That’s a nasty mark you’ve got there. Seems you’ve got yourself a vampire problem here”. “V-vampire?” The Skydancer was trembling now. “Indeed. Some of them like to leave marks like this on their prey. This one seems to be of moderate ranking.” The hunter huffed as he slung the mahogany case to the ground and opened several latches holding it closed. “Nothing I can’t handle” he said with a grin as he retrieved a silver pistol along with a string of rope. “Now” he turned back to the Skydancer, “I’m going to need you to hold still”. -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Argent always felt bad when he had to tie up an innocent bystander, but just as he predicted, the creature came for Lucas once the sun had completely set. It was a dark thing, taking the approximate shape of a small Imperial with red eyes and gleaming fangs. Argent stepped towards the thing where it hovered over the terrified Skydancer he had tied down to a lamp post. “Well, here we go again”. The thing shifted its gaze away from its prey to look at Argent. He was small in comparison, and he thought he heard the creature laugh. It was always the same with these monsters. He rolled his eyes. The future of this vampire was already sealed, after all. Just as they all did, the creature looked startled as something bubbled forth from Argent’s shadow and slammed into the vampire with a hiss, pinning it down as the monster hunter approached. One silver bullet was all it took. Argent cut the ropes holding Lucas down after that and heard the Skydancer stammering. “W-what was that? Are you a monster too?” -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Argent found it best not to stay in one place for too long. He set off on the next ship to leave the docks, letting the small town he had saved slip away behind him. It wasn’t long before another raven found him. Another request. He grumbled as he unfurled the parchment, greeted by familiar handwriting as he began to read. “[i]We must request your return”[/i]. Golden eyes narrowed as they skimmed over the neat calligraphy scrawled upon wrinkled parchment. The letter he now clutched made him frown in agitation, his golden claws tearing into the paper where he gripped it tightly. This was not a typical summoning. This letter was from his own family. The one he had left behind in hopes they would remain safe from his curse. He gazed down at the note, his eyes settling once more on a single sentence. “[i]Your brother has gone missing[/i]”. “We will be returning to the Sunbeam Ruins then?” A dark voice bubbled forth from Argent’s shadow as [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/57254843]Cauchemar[/url] pulled herself free. She hovered over Argent’s shoulder, glaring down at the letter that described a series of strange nightmares leading up to the young Pearlcatcher’s disappearance. “It does not seem of vampiric magic. . .” she growled. “Indeed” the hunter replied grimly. “It reeks more like that of a witch”. -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Despite the light that washed over the land, the Sunbeam Ruins held many dark memories for Argent. His mahogany case landed with a thud upon brittle, bleached grass as Argent stared up at the clan he once called home. He remembered the night he fled this place, vowing that he would not return. . . yet here he was. What would his family think of him now? He chewed his lower lip in distress. Perhaps they too would shun him just as many of the hunter’s guilds had once they learned of his pact. “A hunter making a blood pact with a vampire is. . . unorthodox”. Argent shook his head, pushing the memories to the back of his mind as he readied to knock. “Hello. . . [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/32181477]father[/url].” He whispered quietly as the door swung open revealing another Pearlcatcher. Argent startled as he was swept into an embrace. Despite his family’s continued acceptance, he could tell that he caused them to worry. He watched his parents eyes glance over the myriad of bandages and scars that littered his scales, the weapons that hung from holsters and cases at his sides, and the ominous wooden chest he carried. Argent still found it to be uncomfortable. ------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “What happened to my [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78238716]brother[/url]?” Argent questioned to himself as he inspected the younger Pearlcatcher’s empty room. He had not wasted much time in beginning his work, a welcome distraction from the awkward family reunion. There were no signs of disturbance or struggle in the vacant bedroom, yet Cauchemar snarled at the foul scent that lingered on the air. She too had swept the room from where she hid in the Pearlcatcher’s shadow. “Smells like. . . a wet dog”. “A werewolf?” Argent questioned. “No. More like rotting wolf’s blood entrapped in a witch’s spell. I have not encountered it before”. “Something new then?” The vampire growled. “Perhaps. It is dream magic.” Argent scanned the room once more. “We will need to trace it back to the source.” Cauchemar shifted. “I can hold open a tracing. . . but you will have to enter the dream realm alone. You will be compromised.” -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Argent gave a solemn nod as Cauchemar readied herself. It was a well kept secret that the vampire Cauchemar was in fact, half Witchborne herself. . . yet her magic was quite unpredictable and Argent knew she avoided using it whenever possible. Still, she opened a rift with ease into the realm of dreams, her talons tearing open reality as easily as shredding fabric. Argent watched the rift widen before he felt his consciousness slip and float free of his body. He always hated dream walking. He awoke in a field, the grass around him brittle and pale and the sky above cast in shade. He recognized the place immediately as a portion of the Hewn City. . . an old and abandoned portion. As he stood he found himself staring at a strange building - a monastery that sat upon a small hill. There was a trail of smoke streaming from its chimney and the diamond paned windows were stained darkly with soot. A faded wooden sign outside the door read “Ravenswood - Of the Lord’s Light”. “Interesting” Argent murmured. In his early days, he had spent time among holy drakes, but never in his studies had there been record of a light monastery called ‘Ravenswood’. He pushed the door open and only darkness awaited on the other side. The hunter steeled himself as he stepped through the threshold. -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] The place was abandoned, yet it echoed with horrors of its past. Argent traced deep claw-like gouges in the floor and areas of wood that appeared badly burned. The windows were so stained with soot that no light could enter and the ledges below each pane of glass were covered in dead flies. “Orvil?” Argent called, his voice echoing emptily. He continued wandering, yet there were no replies. There was no sound at all - as if the entire place were completely frozen in time. The hunter wandered through the blackened halls, past shelves filled with decaying tomes and shattered fragments of mirrors in the upper rooms, until finally he came to a hallway where the dark walls seemed to close in narrowly. He could see a door at the end, but the longer he walked down the corridor, the further away the doorway seemed. He stumbled in the darkness, his legs seeming to catch and intwine with the decayed mat of carpet that lined the floor. Finally, he took a step forward and kicked something that rolled across the floor and settled a few feet away. He crouched to inspect it, finding the object settled against the door that he’d spent hours trying to reach. It nearly glowed in the darkness, a luminous silver orb. It was a pearl. Argent reached for the pearl, but the door seemed to open and the entire hall shifted to a steep angle, causing the pearl to fall into the room before him, his own form tumbling in after. Argent’s fingers brushed against the orb before it slipped away, several of his brother’s memories slipping into his mind. He landed with a crack as sound returned in the form of a splitting tinnitus that caused the hunter to wince in pain as he covered his ears. “Orvil!” He called once more. It was difficult to hear past the ringing in his ears and the hunter could barely see in the darkness, but he knew he had fallen into a pile of objects that were hard and sharp, digging into his scales as he shifted. It smelled strongly of rot here, the scent overwhelming as he grasped one of the objects in his claws and the unmistakable truth dawned upon him. He had landed in a pile of rotting bones. Something creaked and shifted in the darkness. It sounded as if someone was standing up from an old chair. Argent reached for his pistol as the figure sighed heavily. “No child” a voice whispered, “no one left here”. As the figure stepped closer, Argent saw it took the form of a [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58387265]Wildclaw[/url] robed in tattered holy garments. Her old hands were gnarled and twisted and she dragged a long silver chain behind her as she moved. “Where is my brother, witch!?” Argent growled, aiming the pistol at the approaching creature. She paused for a moment. “Best be going before Blackmore returns. We are hungry.” She stalked closer, and Argent decidedly had heard enough. The silver bullet tore through the Wildclaw’s outstretched hand and he watched her recoil with a dark hiss that slowly morphed into an inhuman growl. “What are you?” Argent questioned, reaching for the stray pearl before bolting towards the door. He saw the Wildclaw’s form begin to contort behind him, her flesh and bones shifting into something else. . . something that barely fit in the tiny room. It roared behind Argent as he reached for the door. Locked. The knob rattled feebly in his grasp, but the hunter could not open it. He turned slowly at the feeling of hot breath against his scales and felt a prickle of fear run down his spine for the first time in years. The thing behind him was a behemoth creature with black fur and gleaming yellowed teeth. It was vaguely hound-like in appearance, yet its eyes shimmered with intelligence as it stared down at the hunter. Argent wasn’t sure how, but the creature now held the pearl he was certain he had carefully clutched in his hands. -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] When the creature spoke, it was with a deep and rasping voice. “Monster hunter. We figured that you would make an appearance in time. Rumors made it even here of your abilities and I have a summoning for you.” Argent narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think I would willingly help a creature such as yourself?” The beast laughed at that. “Well, I presume I have something you’d like returned” it sneered, spinning Orvil’s pearl in between black talons. “Plus, it shouldn’t be so hard for someone who has already aligned themselves with the likes of the very monsters they vow to hunt. Silly of you not to bring your vampire along with you here. I was looking forward to meeting her.” “Where is my brother?” “Ah. Well, his abilities did not prove strong enough. . . and so. . .” Argent snarled, aiming the pistol once more at the beast. “Cauchemar!” He called as he let another bullet free at the monster. He could feel magic tugging at his consciousness, attempting to pull him free of the dream. . and yet the beast only laughed. “Two can play at that game, hunter”. It snarled before lunging forward and grasping Argent’s form in its jaws. He gasped as he felt the sharp teeth easily puncture his scales and then the creature pulled back against Cauchemar’s spell. Argent was spat from the beast’s maw a moment later, watching as a rift in the dream split open and another form landed with a thud beside him. “Impossible” Argent groaned as he noted Cauchemar attempting to right herself beside him. She wasted no time lunging for the beast who seemed more than a match even for her. It easily dodged her attacks as if it were taunting her. -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] “Sto-p” Argent called weakly. He knew he was losing too much blood, but something was wrong. Why would this beast bring Cauchemar here knowing the advantage it would grant the hunter? His mind was blurring, thoughts becoming incoherent as the few memories he had glimpsed from Orvil’s pearl surfaced. [i]“You are a Runecatcher, are you not? How much magic do you think is needed to break a Gaoler’s chain?” [/i] Argent felt his brother’s fear as Orvil mumbled a reply. [i]“I-it has not been done before. Chains made to imprison the worst of the Shade tainted creatures doomed to rot an eternity under the Icewarden’s watchful eye. They are unbreakable”. “Oh? Then tell me instead, how are such things forged?” “Deep in the Fortress of Ends. . . they are forged of solid silver imbued with the magic of witches and the blood of vampires - those thought to be the first children of the Shade”. “Now, child. Tell me about this brother of yours?” [/i] -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Cauchemar screeched as she lunged towards the beast, her jaws instead biting down onto silver links. Her own flesh sizzled where the links burned against her, her blood corroding the silver before the chains dissolved and finally snapped. Blackmore grinned widely, standing over the wounded vampire. “Thank you, Witchborne” he murmured. “I suppose a deal is a deal.” He dropped Orvil’s pearl in front of Argent. “Unfortunately, the flesh doesn’t last here. . . but whatever still remains of your brother will be in there. I am sure, hunter, that we will meet again. Give my regards to Father Herald, certainly he will be coming to find you soon.” "Y-ou won't kill us?" Argent questioned feebly. "Dear hunter. If I wanted you dead, you would have been so long ago". Those words flooded Argent’s mind as his consciousness faded away. He clutched Orvil’s pearl beside his own as he slipped into the darkness. -------------[size=4][font=sylfaen][color=#4D3F2C] Argent’s family found him unconscious in Orvil’s bedroom, his form covered in wounds and seeping blood into the carpet below. Cauchemar remained equally silent where she slept in the hunter’s shadow. It would take them both many months to recover. . . and yet Argent burned with a desire for revenge. The [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/57909606]priest[/url] did find them in the end, a brilliant Imperial of Light. “What was that thing?” Argent questioned. “A mistake of my past.” The priest replied carefully, “I thought I had bound it irreversibly to Ravenswood. . . and yet. . .” “I am finally free” the beast laughed darkly. [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=57620104] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/576202/57620104_350.png[/img] [/url][/center]