Roleplay

804

July 21, 2014 16:16:22

@XenSilverQuill

"I can tell.." She muttered, still looking quizzically at the tunnel he'd disappeared down. Why, from what she gathered, Mordecai was touchier than a molting Sprangyroo. Faelara shook her head, turning her attention back to Gaia. She had a feeling that she'd never be able to figure him out, even if she tried.

The crash of a gong rang out, the sound of it sending a slight twinge of pain through her ears. The sound itself wasn't very loud, but her poor eardrums were still recovering from the Bone Fiend's shriek. By the Windsinger, If he'd damaged her ears, she'd have his spindly bones for a wind chime!

The Serthis gathered her herbs and remedies, then departed for what she assumed was a kitchen of sorts. Tea and a nice meal sounded heavenly at that moment. By the Wind, she couldn't wait to settle down for a good night's sleep. However, her stomach demanded immediate attention, growling fiercely, as if reprimanding her for forgetting about it. Faelara was about to settle onto a plush cushion nearby when the psywurm from earlier bounded up to her. Psyche was so perky, she just couldn't turn her down.

"Ah, okay. That does sound delicious." She nodded to the golden creature, slowly making her way towards the fire. There were more members of the clan around now, including those she'd yet to meet. It was slightly overwhelming, as she was larger than many of them. She felt suddenly very conspicuous. Ducking her head slightly, not that it did any good, the dragon settled into a spot next to Morro, the cushion doing wonders for her tired muscles. Faelara curled her tail around her body in a slightly cat-like fashion, turning her bright blue eyes to the Runic Bat.

"What an amazing den you have. I can hardly believe I'm still deep within shadow territory. It's so bright and, well, cheery." It was true. The whole structure was warm and light, a stark contrast to the dark, constantly misty scene outside. "How did you manage to construct it?"

"A bit of magic," Morro replied easily, "and no small amount of physical labor." Sweeping her wing to one side, she beckoned the Imperial to look at the walls of their home. "Some of the stones we collected from the surrounding streams, others we hauled in from the coast. Most everything is held together with mortar made from the sand and clay from the same places. Spelled wards help to keep it from rotting. Ventilation and a central fire deep in the hill keep the whole lair dry from even the most stubborn damp. If you want to know more, feel free to ask Archimedes-" She flicked her ears in the direction of a silver springbox munching on a cooked radish. "-our resident architect."

A harpy and clouddancer served out the meal that evening - Morro's grandaughter, Valkyrie, and her grandaughter's mate, Aniu, respectively. From there, dinner passed on smoothly enough. The bat and psywurm were eager to answer her questions, from the lair itself to the odd creatures who called it home. Save for topics concerning how they got there in the first place or their inexplicably dragon-like mannerisms, they spoke freely and at length for a long while. Mordecai was noticeably absent from the entire affair.

"Hey, Eros, Heim!" Tesla suddenly called out raucously as the meal drew to a close. "Why don't you magic us up a story? Y'know, for our lady friend over there." He grinned again in Faelara's direction, but that only got him a shock to the flank from the otherwise stoic-looking Lightning sprite as his side. "Ow! 'Wena, what was that for?!"
While that miniature fiasco sorted itself out, the clan members started tossing back ideas for stories.

"Tell the Tale of the First Age!"

"Ah, but nothing's quite as hilarious as The Arcanist and Lord Pepto, eh?"

"No, The Birth of the Guardians is a better one!"

"Enough!" shouted Morro, whose squeaks were some intelligible over the rabble. She bristled briefly while she waited for silence to fall again. "Since Faelara is our guest, it is only fitting that she should choose the story." Turning with kind eyes towards the Imperial, she asked, "Now, what tale should we hear tonight, young one?"

As they deliberated, a certain bone fiend quietly slipped in, keeping silent as he took a seat a dark corner of the room.

@Raivoid

XenSilverQuill

1675

July 21, 2014 19:53:38

"A bit of magic," Morro replied easily, "and no small amount of physical labor." Sweeping her wing to one side, she beckoned the Imperial to look at the walls of their home. "Some of the stones we collected from the surrounding streams, others we hauled in from the coast. Most everything is held together with mortar made from the sand and clay from the same places. Spelled wards help to keep it from rotting. Ventilation and a central fire deep in the hill keep the whole lair dry from even the most stubborn damp. If you want to know more, feel free to ask Archimedes-" She flicked her ears in the direction of a silver springbox munching on a cooked radish. "-our resident architect."

A harpy and clouddancer served out the meal that evening - Morro's grandaughter, Valkyrie, and her grandaughter's mate, Aniu, respectively. From there, dinner passed on smoothly enough. The bat and psywurm were eager to answer her questions, from the lair itself to the odd creatures who called it home. Save for topics concerning how they got there in the first place or their inexplicably dragon-like mannerisms, they spoke freely and at length for a long while. Mordecai was noticeably absent from the entire affair.

"Hey, Eros, Heim!" Tesla suddenly called out raucously as the meal drew to a close. "Why don't you magic us up a story? Y'know, for our lady friend over there." He grinned again in Faelara's direction, but that only got him a shock to the flank from the otherwise stoic-looking Lightning sprite as his side. "Ow! 'Wena, what was that for?!"
While that miniature fiasco sorted itself out, the clan members started tossing back ideas for stories.

"Tell the Tale of the First Age!"

"Ah, but nothing's quite as hilarious as The Arcanist and Lord Pepto, eh?"

"No, The Birth of the Guardians is a better one!"

"Enough!" shouted Morro, whose squeaks were some intelligible over the rabble. She bristled briefly while she waited for silence to fall again. "Since Faelara is our guest, it is only fitting that she should choose the story." Turning with kind eyes towards the Imperial, she asked, "Now, what tale should we hear tonight, young one?"

As they deliberated, a certain bone fiend quietly slipped in, keeping silent as he took a seat a dark corner of the room.

@Raivoid

Last edited on Jul 21, 2014 19:53:56 by XenSilverQuill

@XenSilverQuill

"It must have taken a long time to build!" She exclaimed, thinking of all the work they'd put into the construction. "My clan is somewhat of a mess compared to yours. Because we're near the center of the Windswept Plateau, we have all sorts of dragons. Some simply stop to rest for a time, but many end up staying. Nearly every adult dragon, or mated pair, has their own unique den built on our territory. There's caves built into the grassy cliffs, homes made from wood and stone, and one Skydancer even dug a den underground. It's a tad chaotic at first glance, but it's home."

She laughed warmly as Tesla started up making trouble again. Perhaps it wasn't so bad staying for a day or two, after all. The group was an odd array of different creatures, but they were kind, and the atmosphere was welcoming. It reminded her of her own clan, in a way.

"Hmm, I do believe I've heard a rendition of The Arcanist and Lord Pepto in the past. I don't recall ever hearing The Birth of the Guardians though. It sounds interesting." She settled her head on her front paws, humming softly. Sunaarashi would often tell the hatchlings stories before they slept, but it had been ages since she'd been so small. Nowadays, her duties kept her from listening in for very long.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. She flicked her gaze to the side, noticing the all too familiar pale hide of the Bone Fiend. Deciding to ignore his arrival, lest the mood was ruined by any conflict that might arise. Faelara's eyes closed slightly as she turned the blue orbs back to Morro. Sleep tugged at her, but she resisted the pull. It would be rude to fall asleep during the story. Besides, she wanted to know how it went.

{{Sorry it's so short D: I just couldn't think of much to put between dialogue >.

ThatSmallWeirdo

804

July 21, 2014 21:28:03

@XenSilverQuill

"It must have taken a long time to build!" She exclaimed, thinking of all the work they'd put into the construction. "My clan is somewhat of a mess compared to yours. Because we're near the center of the Windswept Plateau, we have all sorts of dragons. Some simply stop to rest for a time, but many end up staying. Nearly every adult dragon, or mated pair, has their own unique den built on our territory. There's caves built into the grassy cliffs, homes made from wood and stone, and one Skydancer even dug a den underground. It's a tad chaotic at first glance, but it's home."

She laughed warmly as Tesla started up making trouble again. Perhaps it wasn't so bad staying for a day or two, after all. The group was an odd array of different creatures, but they were kind, and the atmosphere was welcoming. It reminded her of her own clan, in a way.

"Hmm, I do believe I've heard a rendition of The Arcanist and Lord Pepto in the past. I don't recall ever hearing The Birth of the Guardians though. It sounds interesting." She settled her head on her front paws, humming softly. Sunaarashi would often tell the hatchlings stories before they slept, but it had been ages since she'd been so small. Nowadays, her duties kept her from listening in for very long.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. She flicked her gaze to the side, noticing the all too familiar pale hide of the Bone Fiend. Deciding to ignore his arrival, lest the mood was ruined by any conflict that might arise. Faelara's eyes closed slightly as she turned the blue orbs back to Morro. Sleep tugged at her, but she resisted the pull. It would be rude to fall asleep during the story. Besides, she wanted to know how it went.

{{Sorry it's so short D: I just couldn't think of much to put between dialogue >.

Though Faelara might not have noticed it, the bat's eyes were afire. Standing up as tall as she could on her wings with her brown furred chest all puffed up, she fairly buzzed with a secret pride. This story had a special place in her heart for reasons the Imperial would perhaps never know but her clanmates understood perfectly. "Well then, our guest has spoken." Morro nodded to a sakura owl and umbra wolf - Eros and Heimdall - as a signal to begin.

Eros flew up to a perch set back against the nearest wall, pink petal-feathers dropping every which way as he landed. His lupine companion followed suit albeit with much less flair. Standing opposite the owl along the same wall, Heimdall began to mutter something in a low voice rich with words of power. Magic charged invisibly through the room as bright colors of flame appeared out of thin air. Continuing to cast his spell in a low voice, the floating fire began to twist together and create recognizable shapes. No more than a few moments later and a beige and bright blue scene formed before the group: the Sea of a Thousand Currents.

Clearing his throat, Eros recited the ancient storyteller's prayer, calling upon the Windsinger as his muse to lend harmony and clarity to the narration. Then he began the tale:

At the dawn of the Third Age, the remnants of the broken Pillar were scattered all across the world. The Eleven, as the tales say, followed the call of their own magic and settled where their respective elemental pieces were most abundant.

The scenes conjured by Heimdall shifted as his companion spoke. Presently, the scene briefly illustrated the gods going their own way from the broken Pillar, focusing in particular on a blue drake.

The god of our tale - the Tidelord - did not have to travel far to find His own land. He quickly found and laid claim to the titanic body of water at the heart of the main continent. Its fathomless depths held His lithe form with ease. Its breadth was so great that even He was hard pressed to swim from shore to shore in a single day. Such was His joy that he dove and danced upon the waves for days on end. The god thrashed those waters with such a euphoric fury that to this day they still move with the echoes of His movements, giving the region its name: "The Sea of a Thousand Currents."

Yet this time of peace and happiness was not to last long, and He soon fell into His old grudge matches with His fellow gods.

@Raivoid

XenSilverQuill

1675

July 22, 2014 17:33:35

Though Faelara might not have noticed it, the bat's eyes were afire. Standing up as tall as she could on her wings with her brown furred chest all puffed up, she fairly buzzed with a secret pride. This story had a special place in her heart for reasons the Imperial would perhaps never know but her clanmates understood perfectly. "Well then, our guest has spoken." Morro nodded to a sakura owl and umbra wolf - Eros and Heimdall - as a signal to begin.

Eros flew up to a perch set back against the nearest wall, pink petal-feathers dropping every which way as he landed. His lupine companion followed suit albeit with much less flair. Standing opposite the owl along the same wall, Heimdall began to mutter something in a low voice rich with words of power. Magic charged invisibly through the room as bright colors of flame appeared out of thin air. Continuing to cast his spell in a low voice, the floating fire began to twist together and create recognizable shapes. No more than a few moments later and a beige and bright blue scene formed before the group: the Sea of a Thousand Currents.

Clearing his throat, Eros recited the ancient storyteller's prayer, calling upon the Windsinger as his muse to lend harmony and clarity to the narration. Then he began the tale:

At the dawn of the Third Age, the remnants of the broken Pillar were scattered all across the world. The Eleven, as the tales say, followed the call of their own magic and settled where their respective elemental pieces were most abundant.

The scenes conjured by Heimdall shifted as his companion spoke. Presently, the scene briefly illustrated the gods going their own way from the broken Pillar, focusing in particular on a blue drake.

The god of our tale - the Tidelord - did not have to travel far to find His own land. He quickly found and laid claim to the titanic body of water at the heart of the main continent. Its fathomless depths held His lithe form with ease. Its breadth was so great that even He was hard pressed to swim from shore to shore in a single day. Such was His joy that he dove and danced upon the waves for days on end. The god thrashed those waters with such a euphoric fury that to this day they still move with the echoes of His movements, giving the region its name: "The Sea of a Thousand Currents."

Yet this time of peace and happiness was not to last long, and He soon fell into His old grudge matches with His fellow gods.

@Raivoid

Last edited on Jul 22, 2014 18:40:58 by XenSilverQuill

@XenSilverQuill

The Imperial watched in amazement as the Umbra wolf began muttering words of magic. The flames he summoned were beautiful, twisting and writhing in the air, before finally settling into a likeness of the Sea of a Thousand Currents. The simple fact that a wolf was using complex magic awed her.

Soon the Sakura owl joined in, his voice strong and clear in the silence of the room. Faelara watched, entranced, as the fiery depictions changed along with the story. Sunaarashi was an incredible storyteller, but he didn't possess the magical capabilities to illustrate his words in such a way.

She lifted her head, all sleepiness forgotten as she became engrossed in the story. Every hatchling in her clan was told the stories of the Ages, but they were always focused around the Wind Deity. She'd heard even fewer of the stories pertaining to the origins of dragons. Her mother had once told her of the first Imperials, and how they were forged by the Lightweaver. Yet, the Guardians remained a mystery. How had a race of land-dwelling dragons come from the roiling seas?

ThatSmallWeirdo

804

July 22, 2014 18:20:13

@XenSilverQuill

The Imperial watched in amazement as the Umbra wolf began muttering words of magic. The flames he summoned were beautiful, twisting and writhing in the air, before finally settling into a likeness of the Sea of a Thousand Currents. The simple fact that a wolf was using complex magic awed her.

Soon the Sakura owl joined in, his voice strong and clear in the silence of the room. Faelara watched, entranced, as the fiery depictions changed along with the story. Sunaarashi was an incredible storyteller, but he didn't possess the magical capabilities to illustrate his words in such a way.

She lifted her head, all sleepiness forgotten as she became engrossed in the story. Every hatchling in her clan was told the stories of the Ages, but they were always focused around the Wind Deity. She'd heard even fewer of the stories pertaining to the origins of dragons. Her mother had once told her of the first Imperials, and how they were forged by the Lightweaver. Yet, the Guardians remained a mystery. How had a race of land-dwelling dragons come from the roiling seas?

Now the Sea held everything ideal for a fledgling flight - wide, unclaimed expanses; shimmering fish to hunt and verdant fields of kelp to harvest; and the depths themselves in which to hide from enemy and storm alike. The Lore tells us that the Tidelord's brothers and sisters looked with terrible jealousy upon His rightful territory. In their envy, They encroached inch by inch upon the sea, up to the very waves lapping against the shores.

The scene shifted and displayed a terrible fight between the Water god and his brethren in the form of hurricanes and tsunamis. Most fiercely he battled with the Flamecaller and Plaguebringer, lava and pestilence mixing with sea water in an eldritch soup. Mordecai looked on quizzically at the living story. And he had thought his scuffle with the Imperial had been worth telling about...

As an elder god, He remembered achingly well the hard-learned lessons that had brought about the close of the First Age. Never again could there be such a war between the deities, or it would mean the end of their world - again. Yet this challenge to His borders could not go unanswered. Too much hung in the balance for Him to sit idly by. Besides, His pride and anger, while slow to provoke, demanded that he take action of one sort or another.

At last in His wisdom, the Tidelord divined a solution: if He could not mount a personal defense against the interloping gods, then He would create sentinels to keep watch of his borders - Guardians.

@Raivoid

XenSilverQuill

1675

July 22, 2014 19:39:26

Now the Sea held everything ideal for a fledgling flight - wide, unclaimed expanses; shimmering fish to hunt and verdant fields of kelp to harvest; and the depths themselves in which to hide from enemy and storm alike. The Lore tells us that the Tidelord's brothers and sisters looked with terrible jealousy upon His rightful territory. In their envy, They encroached inch by inch upon the sea, up to the very waves lapping against the shores.

The scene shifted and displayed a terrible fight between the Water god and his brethren in the form of hurricanes and tsunamis. Most fiercely he battled with the Flamecaller and Plaguebringer, lava and pestilence mixing with sea water in an eldritch soup. Mordecai looked on quizzically at the living story. And he had thought his scuffle with the Imperial had been worth telling about...

As an elder god, He remembered achingly well the hard-learned lessons that had brought about the close of the First Age. Never again could there be such a war between the deities, or it would mean the end of their world - again. Yet this challenge to His borders could not go unanswered. Too much hung in the balance for Him to sit idly by. Besides, His pride and anger, while slow to provoke, demanded that he take action of one sort or another.

At last in His wisdom, the Tidelord divined a solution: if He could not mount a personal defense against the interloping gods, then He would create sentinels to keep watch of his borders - Guardians.

@Raivoid

@XenSilverQuill

Faelara watched the vicious scene unfold before her, shivering slightly. It may have been nothing more than a conjured image, but she was glad the Deities had found relative peace in this age. There were rivalries between the clans, but no wars to be had. The very thought of the Deities deciding to kick up their old feuds once again made her cringe.

The scene was very different from what the Sea of a Thousand currents looked like now. Lava poured in thick rivulets from the Flamecaller's land, colliding with the water in explosions of steam and heat. From the Wind region came terrible storms, tearing at the waves and coral with mighty twisters.

Yet the worst was undoubtedly cast from the Plaguemother's putrid claws. Where the Scarred Wasteland met the Sea, festering rot and disease spilled into the once clear waters, staining them in sickly shades of green and red. Countless fish floated at the surface of these contaminated pockets, killed by the countless diseases released into the water.

To think that the beautiful sea she knew once looked like that. It almost seemed unreal, as if it was just some fantastic tale to tell hatchlings. Yet, their beloved deities were all to real, as well as this land's history. She could only thank the Wind, and all the other elements, that this dispute had been settled before irreversible damage was done.

ThatSmallWeirdo

804

July 24, 2014 03:59:54

@XenSilverQuill

Faelara watched the vicious scene unfold before her, shivering slightly. It may have been nothing more than a conjured image, but she was glad the Deities had found relative peace in this age. There were rivalries between the clans, but no wars to be had. The very thought of the Deities deciding to kick up their old feuds once again made her cringe.

The scene was very different from what the Sea of a Thousand currents looked like now. Lava poured in thick rivulets from the Flamecaller's land, colliding with the water in explosions of steam and heat. From the Wind region came terrible storms, tearing at the waves and coral with mighty twisters.

Yet the worst was undoubtedly cast from the Plaguemother's putrid claws. Where the Scarred Wasteland met the Sea, festering rot and disease spilled into the once clear waters, staining them in sickly shades of green and red. Countless fish floated at the surface of these contaminated pockets, killed by the countless diseases released into the water.

To think that the beautiful sea she knew once looked like that. It almost seemed unreal, as if it was just some fantastic tale to tell hatchlings. Yet, their beloved deities were all to real, as well as this land's history. She could only thank the Wind, and all the other elements, that this dispute had been settled before irreversible damage was done.

He set out without hesitation to put His plans in motion. From the finest silt and sand He fashioned the bodies of His creatures. Fangs to bite, fins to swim, claws to score, and wings to fly - the Tidelord gave everything worthy of a dragon to the Guardians. It is said that of all the races the gods created, it is the Guardians that take most after their patron deity, for indeed, He created them in His very own likeness.

In Heimdall's flames, the god of Water artfully and lovingly carved out the bodies of the Guardians. With sloping sweeps of his claws he made their great jaws, their arching horns, and the armored fans for which the breed was most famous.

Now the Tidelord, while the peer of His sometime comrades in every way, was not keen on keeping hold of grudges. He knew, almost as well as the god of Earth Himself, that laying aside His personal quarrels might indeed work for the good of peace the world over. So, in a move which he would soon rejoice and mourn over, He invited His brothers and sisters in the pantheon to give their blessings to His nascent creations.

"Whether He will praise or rue the day, that remains to be seen, may He be blessed," Morro, Mordecai, and all the clan chanted in an age old chorus before quieting once again.

@Raivoid

XenSilverQuill

1675

July 25, 2014 07:22:34

He set out without hesitation to put His plans in motion. From the finest silt and sand He fashioned the bodies of His creatures. Fangs to bite, fins to swim, claws to score, and wings to fly - the Tidelord gave everything worthy of a dragon to the Guardians. It is said that of all the races the gods created, it is the Guardians that take most after their patron deity, for indeed, He created them in His very own likeness.

In Heimdall's flames, the god of Water artfully and lovingly carved out the bodies of the Guardians. With sloping sweeps of his claws he made their great jaws, their arching horns, and the armored fans for which the breed was most famous.

Now the Tidelord, while the peer of His sometime comrades in every way, was not keen on keeping hold of grudges. He knew, almost as well as the god of Earth Himself, that laying aside His personal quarrels might indeed work for the good of peace the world over. So, in a move which he would soon rejoice and mourn over, He invited His brothers and sisters in the pantheon to give their blessings to His nascent creations.

"Whether He will praise or rue the day, that remains to be seen, may He be blessed," Morro, Mordecai, and all the clan chanted in an age old chorus before quieting once again.

@Raivoid

@XenSilverQuill

It was true that Guardians were fearsome opponents. They were huge, armored dragons, dwarfing most species of dragons. Windmourne, her clan's leader, was a smaller member of her species, yet still larger and stronger than nearly the whole of Subsolanus. Yet for all their physical strength and prowess, they were more often than not kind, wise beings.

Windmourne was old and wise, yet still as strong and young of mind as she was before Subsolanus was started. Her whole clan was her charge, and she thought of each member as one of her children. She and her mate, Sunaarashi, provided a home for all types of dragons, each with different backgrounds and circumstances. Yet, she also gave them a family.

She'd heard that Guardians looked very much like their creator, the Tidelord. Faelara had never had the honor of seeing the deity in person, but from the depictions she'd happened across, it did seem true.

The Imperial shivered slightly as the entire clan, as if on cue, recited a line. How many times had they heard this very story? The dragon shifted slightly, pulling her tail in tighter, listening intently for the rest of the story.

ThatSmallWeirdo

804

July 25, 2014 18:41:55

@XenSilverQuill

It was true that Guardians were fearsome opponents. They were huge, armored dragons, dwarfing most species of dragons. Windmourne, her clan's leader, was a smaller member of her species, yet still larger and stronger than nearly the whole of Subsolanus. Yet for all their physical strength and prowess, they were more often than not kind, wise beings.

Windmourne was old and wise, yet still as strong and young of mind as she was before Subsolanus was started. Her whole clan was her charge, and she thought of each member as one of her children. She and her mate, Sunaarashi, provided a home for all types of dragons, each with different backgrounds and circumstances. Yet, she also gave them a family.

She'd heard that Guardians looked very much like their creator, the Tidelord. Faelara had never had the honor of seeing the deity in person, but from the depictions she'd happened across, it did seem true.

The Imperial shivered slightly as the entire clan, as if on cue, recited a line. How many times had they heard this very story? The dragon shifted slightly, pulling her tail in tighter, listening intently for the rest of the story.

His eyes glowed a terribly bright fuchsia as he continued to speak, and Eros seemed to be in another place altogether in the progress of the tale. Heimdall was quiet as ever save for the quiet rumble of his voice as he manipulated the bewitched flames. Presently, the forms of three familiar gods converging on the shores of the Sea was the scene that played.

The first to answer the Water god's invitations were the rulers of Earth, Nature, and Ice. As They shared no borders with the Tidelord, They did not stand to lose anything by the creation of these Guardians. Willing enough to give Their blessing, the Earthshaker was the first to step forward.

"To you," He rumbled with the voice of the mightiest quakes, "I give the stalwart cast of the earth itself. May its strength inspire you and instill within you unerring loyalty."

"To you," the Gladekeeper whispered like a breeze through a summer forest, "I give nature's everlasting vitality. May it lend you a long, fruitful life through all your seasons."

"To you," the Icewarden hissed like a blizzardy squall on the tundra, "I give the indomitable spirit of ice. May your will and convictions be ever consistent, never changing."

All too happy to receive these gifts on behalf of His children, the Tidelord thanked Them well and graciously. He gave these blessings in turn and without hesitation to His yet unborn progeny. It is said that one can see the remnants of the gods' gifts in the breed even today.

"Though most respectable storytellers would never include this is in their version of the tale," muttered Morro as an aside to her guest, "it is also said that the males of the Guardian breed also got their beards from the same gods. Whether it was from the Earthshaker or Gladekeeper or both, though, none can say!"

@Raivoid

XenSilverQuill