Roleplay

The Arcanist

He turned to Zalem first.

...What point would there be in all of us coming to see you? Or the point in seeing you all in your domains? The other gods are at their limit, keeping the main horde at bay, and even now, I am straining myself in order to be in front of you. We only have energy enough for this, and even this is a chance I'm certain the chaos is taking to leak into our world. Indeed... I am merely the messenger... and... I am sorry...

A short, solemn pause, and then he addressed Cynfal.

...My goal here is not just to give you your task, but to also give information to the other gods... Your journey starts when everyone accepts the task. However, should anyone refuse...

Silence...

(( Question time is over. The basics have been covered I think. The last big question that no one asked, I plan for Desiderius to ask just before things kick off. The last thing for everyone to do before we begin is accept the mission. ))

Desiderius

After a long pause, Desiderius stepped forward. His head was high, looking the god in the eyes... Then, he bowed, bringing his head down to the floor.

"...I cannot guarantee success, but... I accept your task."

"How could I refuse?" Fintan raised her head once more to look the Arcanist in the eyes, ruff flared proudly. The Warden's choice was absolute. If he thought she was the best for the job, even if she'd wanted to say no (and who would? The chance to find a rare, powerful, ancient artifact lost to the ages was an Ice dragon's dream!), the Fae wouldn't dream of backing out. "It will be an honor to serve, sir."

Hohepa stared at his furred paws, frowning in thought. What the Arcanist wanted was a tall order, and he still didn't feel up for the job. But if he didn't accept, surely their mission would be a failure and darkness would consume the world. And if that happened, his family and clanmates certainly wouldn't be spared... "I..." He swallowed down his fear and looked up at the deity. "I will accept your task. For my mate, my children, and my clanmates."

"Oh! Ohohohoh!" Cynfal, for a moment, forgot about his hunger and flickered into the air for a moment. This was exciting. Well, it was sort of exciting. That wasn't to say it wasn't absolutely terrible; the state things had fallen into. Dragons were in danger, the eleven were barely holding back sure extermination, and he couldn't really be sure how much he and the rest of this lot could really do. However, this was how all good stories started. The call to adventure was present as ever, and Cynfal wasn't about to refuse.
"I'm in! Let's do this!" his braces made another solid clank as he reconnected with the ground; tail in the air and poised to pounce like a young Phytocat.

Yasxue stood there, finding all of this way too much to take in. All this talk of a quest that the Arcanist spoke of… was he… was he really chosen by the almighty Flamecaller? She wanted him, a lazy, easy-going dragon like himself, to help save their world? He had so many questions, but dared not to speak to the Arcanist himself, having worries that he'll sound incredibly stupid with the amount of questions going around in his head.

He watched the other dragons question the Arcanist, judging his own decision whenever to go on this quest or not… well. He didn't know a single dragon here, which intimidated him a lot. But… dragon kind was in danger… and only he along with ten others could stop it. There was no time to be afraid of the impending doom, he had to take action. For his mate. For his newborn. For the future of dragonkind.

He stood up straight and proud, swishing his tail calmly. "… I'll accept your task, Arcanist… I'd do anything to protect my family…" He spoke calmly, yet, he was trembling a little.

Stardust listened to the Arcanist's speech with unwavering intensity. This was huge. Her heart fluttered as the true weight of their quest was placed heavily on her shoulders. Not only were they to find the missing pillar fragments, but surely they would meet resistance with some sort of shadow monsters? Stardust was a good fighter, sure, as she had been trained extensively by the greatest masters of the coliseum that her clan's treasure could buy. But there was a difference between battling Corpse Cleaners in the Forgotten Cave and taking on some celestial being that even the Eleven had difficulties stopping.

Stardust gulped, and while questions swarmed her mind, she spoke up not, and let the few others that did talk speak up for her. She shot Zalem a look of pity, as she could sense the embarrassment in his voice; she was actually wanting to ask the same thing he did. There was no shame in wishing to see one's own god too, she thought. They hadn't been fully aware of the pressure the gods were under until now, after all.

But now was the time for the dragoness from Lightning to speak up as well, and looking back toward the Arcanist with a determined glance she stated, "I could not refuse such an important request! Please accept my humble assistance." And with that she bowed her head slightly in respect. Oh to be needed this much by the Eleven themselves! Her cheeks flushed with excitement and a feeling of being special. While she had some doubt as to why she was called out of every other dragon from Lightning - she had met some amazing dragons perfectly equipped for this task - she was sure if the Stormbringer had chosen her specifically, there had to be a reason. And the more she thought about it, the more her confidence grew.

Varris

"I accept," said Varris after he finally shook himself out of the daze he was experiencing. This was...well, this would certainly be quite the story, that much was sure!

Moorchase

"I accept as well," Moorchase said with a bow of her head. "This situation affects us all...I couldn't think of denying this task." Even so, she had worry in her heart.

As others began speaking more frequently, Lurk remained posed as a statuesque gargoyle to the outside eye, all while floating in confusion within. Someone mentioned something about being exalted, to which Lurk shook her head. "All my children have been exalted to the Plaguebringer. This is not where they have gone," she asserted quietly, recalling her travels toward the precipice of the Wyrmwound. The architecture there hardly mirrored anything as hand-made as the structure within which they stood. Someone else mentioned a dream, which caused Lurk to withdraw far from everyone into her thoughts, tangled in webs of wondering.

And then, the sigil lit at her feet. The Guardian shifted slowly in her steps, an uncertain cross between a surprised stumble and a curious craning of the neck. It was only after the mass of energy surged did Lurk return to a defensive combat stance, folding her wings over herself as a shield. She couldn't decide whether to squint her eyes to maintain vision or close them to prevent getting blinded. So, she stood poised, squint-blinking rapidly as the light took form. Her heart beat heavy and hard with uncertainty.

It was the Arcanist.

Lurk's body was good at going auto-pilot in these situations. She continued to step back a bit, even while her head spun with mild alarm and confused curiosity. The 'Arcanist' spoke, claimed he did so on behalf of all 11 gods. The alarms in Lurk's head continued to sound. In her years at the Pits, Lurk's darkened scars bore witness to the deceitful and powerful nature of magic. Who's to say this wasn't some illusion of a talented trickster? And, even if this was the Arcanist, who's to say he truly speaks for the Plaguebringer?

The guardian remained stiff and silent for very long as she pondered these thoughts, beady red eyes flipping occasionally to catch the questions and answers, to reassess the others with her. Many of these others themselves seemed skeptical as to how they could be 'chosen' as well. Assuming the Arcanist spoke truth, Lurk wondered if they were chosen simply because of their ordinary nature-- she herself was merely a lowly foot soldier, after all. If there truly were void-creatures searching for a champion, would they even bat an eye at the rag-tag group of dragons Lurk found herself in?

Voices faded out, and faded back in as Lurk finally snapped to attention at the others pledging their acceptance to this task. She stood higher, realizing she may lose her chance to speak, and finally stepped forward to address the supposed Arcanist.

"I intend no disrespect," she began slowly, her words carefully measured and delivered, "As I would be wholly obliged to accept this task, if it were from the Plaguebringer." She paused again, mind moving slowly yet surely to produce refined statements. "But I have not yet seen proof that you truly speak for Her, or the other Gods. I am merely a soldier, a pawn-- I do not know of what goals and games the Gods play at. But the worst I could do, even as a pawn, is to let an opponent move me to his side."

Lurk finished the thought, and stared up at the unreal image that shifted before her. Though she stood upright, her body remained tense. If this was the true Arcanist, a creature of knowledge and wisdom, then her respectful skepticism may be tolerated, even if he truly did not speak for the Plaguebringer. If this was a hoax from a powerful illusionist, however, Lurk knew that she could be risking her life.

The Arcanist

The Arcanist stared down at the Guardian for a moment, his demeanor unchanging, almost as if he hadn't heard her at first. Then his feet came down, and he landed at the center of the sigil, a definite thud and clicking of the claws present when he did. Was it not a projection after all? Was he truly here?

...You mean to test the waters then, do you? To do so would also be to test the Gods.

...Yet, you know this already, don't you? For you are not a fool. No... You are not a pawn. Indeed you are a knight. For a knight does not charge into battle mindlessly, but takes the time to learn and understand before swearing loyalty to any regent.

...And now seeing through your trial, do you mean to give me a new one? Have I earned your trust or destroyed it? Or must I complete your task and say that your doubt is understandable and we respect your decision before you accept ours?

Despite what he said, there wasn't an inkling of malice in his tone. His voice was analytical, yet did not contain any of the cold sterility that is stereotyped with the sciences, as if he were examining the heart with another heart. Now he's done the most shocking thing of all this entire night.

He bowed to Lurk.

...If you truly do not wish to risk this mission, the Eleven understands. We may not all be particularly fond of your decision, but we will not try to stop you. You are free to leave if you wish...