The Legend of the Bloodstone

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The Legend of the Bloodstone; (continued)
Topic Started: 8 Feb 2009, 22:28 (782 Views)
Hydro14	8 Feb 2009, 22:28 Post #1
Fanatical Roleplayer Posts: 130 Group: Mentor Member #8 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	The story so far… The legends tell of a time when the land of Teramil was but a barren waste, blasted earth and scorched skies torn by thunder and lightning. Two mighty beings fought for dominance over this world and the arcane energies of their battle split the earth asunder time and time again. The forces of good and evil continued their war without respite until time lost all meaning and distance but a dream. At last, the force of good cast down its foe with a mortal wound and at the point where the force of evil struck the earth it melted right through to the core and a mighty shield volcano was formed. Also formed from a single drop of the force of evil’s blood was a gemstone of no apparent significance, but this gemstone, the bloodstone, was to decide the fate of the world. Without the destructive influence of evil, life was free to flourish. Great forests spread from the soil and water covered the lowlands to form seas. Fish teemed in the oceans and beasts conquered the land while birds began to soar through the sky. Given time, grand civilisations emerged; the elves claimed the forests in the middle of the continent, the dwarves the northern mountains and the orcs the eastlands. Last to emerge were the humans from the southern swamps and the northern mountains. They drove the orcs out of the eastlands and claimed them for themselves, expanding west until the orcs were forced into the wastes away to the west where, unable to wipe them out entirely, they blocked them out with towering border forts. What people didn’t know was that the force of evil survived. Forced into mortal form in a shadow of the world of Teramil, a vague mockery, its anger festered. But there was still those in Teramil who would heed its call and do its bidding, those twisted by greed and hate who would profit from its release. Unknown to the world, the force of evil conspired in shadows and formed a design that would set it free. The first chapter – The Amtear Myth 300 years prior to current events, the bloodstone was discovered in a cavern by the warlock Quinn who sought to use it as a weapon to fight his way to greatness. It was not long before he encountered Amtear, already a sorcerer of some repute he had formed a group out of the elven prince Tylares, the borderman Vulgus and the combat artist Corem. Together they were able to remove the bloodstone from Quinn’s possession however in the process Amtear came into contact with the stone. When both he and Quinn had touched the stone, copies of them had been sent to a world where evil had been imprisoned, a world of grey stone and red skies populated by demons and draconians, a hybrid species of human and dragon, where humans were slaves. While they put aside their differences in an attempt to escape, their counterparts in Teramil continued making their best efforts to spill eachother’s guts. Quinn attempted to regain the bloodstone, backed up by a band of mercenaries while Amtear sought to find a way to destroy it. Meanwhile, in the other plane of existence, known only as ‘the underworld,’ Amtear and Quinn came upon the draconian emperor, Hydro. Originally sceptical of their tale, the emperor was finally persuaded of the truth of the tale they told him of another world and was anxious to know how they might get there. Amtear, of course, refused to help, but Quinn proved more agreeable. They eventually decided that Amtear’s knowledge of the arcane was necessary to piece together the puzzle, and it was revealed to him that the underworld also had a copy of the bloodstone, but all the people who had touched it had died inexplicably all within a few months. Some had sickened, others had just ceased to be without warning. It was concluded after examination that Amtear and Quinn were slowly dying of a phenomenon they dubbed ‘split soul sickness,’ and affliction resulting from two living beings sharing a soul. Quinn of course redoubled his efforts to return to Teramil, but Amtear still would not relent, believing that his life was a small price to pay to prevent Teramil being invaded. Faced with his refusal to help and his own imminent death, Quinn attempted to kill Amtear. At roughly the same time, Quinn’s band had caught up with Amtear’s group in Teramil. Despite the best efforts of Vulgus, Tylares and Corem, the mercenary captain turned warlord closed with Amtear in mortal combat, which the magician fortunately won. When his copy of himself in Teramil died, Quinn died in the underworld, moments away from cutting Amtear’s throat. Hydro proceeded to show Amtear all of his kingdom, observing as he did so how the world was never made to support life, and the strange apparition he had called ‘magi fog’ that occasionally swallowed whole settlements without warning. Moved by the draconian’s plight, Amtear agreed to help study the bloodstone and seek to understand how to make a portal between the two worlds, aware as he did so that the copy of himself he now realised he must have left in Teramil would be seeking to destroy it. Back in Teramil, Amtear’s search was meeting with dead end after dead end. To make matters worse, he identified that he was growing weaker and realised that the bloodstone must be the cause. Realising that the quest would outlast him, Amtear used the power of the bloodstone to protect it against falling into evil hands. He placed an elaborate enchantment on the stone that would incinerate anyone not of his bloodline who touched it and had Tylares form the Blood Mantle, an organisation that would guide his descendant on the path of destroying the stone, the secret of which he had discovered in his dying moments, lay at the great fire mountain of Irhuiltan. A similar discovery was being made by Amtear in the underworld, save that he realised that in order to open the portal, the magic must be made to resonate in a certain manner at the place where the boundaries between worlds was weak. This place was, it was discovered, was Irhuiltan, or as it corresponded to in the underworld, the impact crater temple where it was said that the last of the great dragons had died. The only complication was that the portal needed to be opened at the same time from both sides by the same person, which Amtear realised was impossible because his other self would never co-operate. Hydro at once suggested that he use the stone to enter both worlds and so open the portal, but Amtear had predicted the final actions of his other self, aware that he too was growing weaker, and warned Hydro of the wards he would have placed on the stone. Before this situation could be resolved, Amtear died. The stone in Teramil was entombed in a temple where it would be guarded and Hydro was left thinking that all his hopes had been for nothing. Just as it seemed all was over, a strange figure appeared in a dark cloak. Though Hydro never saw his face, the stranger promised him that to open a portal between worlds was possible, and that he would help him do it. So it came to pass that the first stage of the plan of the force of evil was completed. The second chapter – The Legend of the Bloodstone (present) Kyarra, descendant of Amtear, is forced to steal the bloodstone from its temple when her sister Mina is kidnapped by a band of cultists of unspecified allegiance and agenda. Nothing too difficult for the 19 year old thief-when-strictly-necessary, until it turns out that the stone is guarded by a several thousand year old draconian who claims to have travelled with Amtear in his quest to destroy the stone 300 years ago. It turns out that he has been waiting for none other than Kyarra to come along so that they can finish Amtear’s work. In the mean time, a magician using arcane arts to mimic the skills of the dragons, named Ygrash, and his reptilian partner Grashnir, break into the cult’s hideout and rescue Mina. It turns out that they too know of the draconian and have reached the conclusion that he is an enforcer from the realm of the dead who plans to invade Teramil. It turns out that this draconian is none other than the emperor Hydro who met with Amtear 300 years prior to the present events. Hydro tells Kyarra that the bloodstone can be used to open the gates of hell, and that it must be destroyed before this can happen. She insists that saving her sister must come first, and so they plan to have a copy of the stone made to trade for Mina. Before they can leave, they are accosted by Dominique, a bizarre youth unwilling to speak of his past who insists on accompanying them. Meanwhile, just as Amtear was copied into the underworld when he first touched the stone, the same has happened to Kyarra. Her underworld self is intercepted by a demon slaver caravan guarded by the undercover agents of Hydro’s personal crownguard, Ycalrin, Sherentyr and Dereyith. Kyarra finds herself sold into the service of the house of Armyan, one of the draconian noble houses, where she is tasked with working in a furnace alongside Kaitlyn and Tyrn, two other human slaves. The crownguard, it turned out, were in the region to recruit a bounty hunter by the name of Mirar de l’arc or D’arc for short, whose services Hydro had need of to keep track of Kyarra while she was in the underworld. Ygrash reached the bloodstone temple to find the stone gone and no sign of Kyarra. They linger to be sure of their findings just long enough for them to run into Kristin, a bizarre woman who’s trying to find Dominique for reasons she refuses to explain. Without time to argue, Ygrash consents to her accompaniment. Kyarra’s group in Teramil encounters an elf named Flame and his drow companion Farathir. Initially assuming Kyarra and her companions to be enforcers of evil intent on opening the gates of hell, they attack and are repelled by a stunning display of power by Hydro, but Kyarra refuses to let the draconian kill them. It doesn’t take long for the pair to catch up and this time after much negotiation they join the team, however Flame gives a few words of warning to Kyarra concerning Hydro. It turns out that Flame is currently leader of the Blood Mantle, descended from Tylares and is aware that Amtear never travelled with a draconian named Hydro. Somewhere the reptile’s story just doesn’t add up. When they reached the town they had been heading towards in hopes of getting a replica of the bloodstone, Kyarra and her team ran into a man named Phelix who overheard them discussing their plans at the tavern table, much to the distaste of Flame and Farathir. However they couldn’t really do much about it so when Ygrash and his followers arrived moments after they had left, they were able to gain the whole story from the pineapple obsessed adventurer who subsequently joined their group. Aware that with a dragon Ygrash was going to catch them long before they got to the city, Hydro elected to orchestrate a second kidnapping of Mina, this time led by a reptilian illusionist named Selathiss, which bought him the time he needed to get Kyarra safely back to the city. Explaining away Mina’s disappearance with lies and trickery, the cultists gave Kyarra her next destination, claiming that they had intended to destroy the stone in the first place. Her instructions were to head to Irhuiltan, where the stone could be destroyed. Yet again, Ygrash arrived moments too late to catch Kyarra, however in an ensuing battle with the cultist, Dominique and Phelix were able to exchange a few words in which the former was imparted the knowledge of Hydro’s true aims. Meanwhile, Ygrash took the opportunity to gain information regarding Irhuiltan. Discovering the myth about the origins of the fire mountain, he determined that the stakes here were higher than he had ever imagined. It was not simply the dead that the stone would release, but the force of evil itself. With a renewed sense of purpose, the dragon caster set off after the draconian and the bloodstone. Meanwhile, in the underworld, Kyarra was retrieved from the foundry by the crownguard before she could fall into the hands of a rebel group run by a draconian politician named Ansarii. Hydro informed her that he had brought her to this world as a test to see if she was worthy to wield the bloodstone, and also to save his world from annihilation at the hands of a dimension-travelling enemy. Anxious to return to her own world and save her sister, Kyarra didn’t argue to any great degree. Ygrash and his team caught up with Hydro and Kyarra in the desert, a day’s travel from Irhuiltan. The result was a battle of epic proportion in which Hydro’s team came out decisively on top. With Ygrash left for dead and the rest of his team driven off, Hydro was clear to proceed with his dastardly schemes. A day later they arrive at Irhuiltan while Ygrash finishes regenerating his wounds, however even his dragonic arts could not save him from all the injuries he had suffered and he was forced to replace his eyes with a pair of disconcerting reptilian oculars. And now the story continues… ---------------------------------------------------------- The Overworld Ygrash The dragon caster was loath to lose even a minute more. A whole day lost while he recovered? Would it not have been better if the others had pressed on and left him? Perhaps they would have been able to catch up with Kyarra once more and by some stroke of fortune been able to speak to her before the draconian drove them off again. It was only a ghost of a chance to be sure, but surely it was better than whatever chance was left to them now. “You know what this means, Grashnir?” he spoke in low tones, the certainty and fire gone from his voice, leaving only exhaustion. “They’re probably there already.” the dragon answered solemnly. For a moment only the scorching desert wind whistling through skeletal fingers of a parched bush was the only sound as both dragon and caster considered their dire situation, and then Grashnir spoke once more. “Where do we go from here?” he asked, “Do we continue or do we turn back and warn the humans?” Ygrash had been wondering the same thing, if they couldn’t stop Hydro opening the gates of hell then the best thing to do was to make sure that the world was prepared for an invasion, or at least as prepared as it could be. But they weren’t there yet, at least not in the dragon caster’s mind. If there was even the slightest chance that they might still succeed in stopping the draconian then they had to try. “We go on.” He answered simply, focusing slitted pupils on the dunes ahead. He had to appear confident for the sake of the others. For a brief moment he had considered leaving them behind to make better speed, except for Mina who he needed to persuade Kyarra that her true enemy was the reptile who had been her mentor and guide for almost a fortnight. He dismissed the notion at once. He didn’t fear for their safety, Phelix was almost certainly capable of ensuring that he and Kristin got back to civilisation without harm, but they had waited for him as he lay dying in the desert, it seemed a poor way to repay them. He just hoped that the cost of their benevolent act had not been too great. The dragon caster wondered briefly what state any of them would be in to fight if they made it to the volcano before the portal was opened, then decided it probably didn’t bear thinking about. Hopefully Hydro, thinking that he had killed Ygrash, wouldn’t expect another attack. Perhaps they wouldn’t need to fight at all. ‘Yeah, and perhaps I’ll become shorter, grow a beard and be a dwarf.’ He scoffed inwardly. It seemed that the odds of them all getting through this one alive were a million to one. Forbidding this despairing realisation from crossing his face, the dragon caster leapt up onto Grashnir’s back in a manner that was wholly more energetic than he felt like being. “Let’s go.” He said, speaking for the first time to Phelix, Kristin and Mina, “Every minute we spend here is time that takes Kyarra closer to Irhuiltan.” He carefully didn’t mention that it was very probable she was there already. Mina It was a relief to be moving again, Ygrash’ recovery had restored a sense of purpose to the group, though the thought of what lay ahead weighed heavily on Mina. Less than a day ago she’d seen the most powerful member of their team beaten and charred to a crippled husk. Until that moment danger had only been a word, and one that had been thrown around rather too much to have the impact it deserved, but now the danger was real and she would have to delve deep down within herself to find the courage to face it again. Without really thinking about what she was doing, Mina took the hand that the dragon caster offered her and hauled herself onto Grashnir’s back behind Ygrash and in front of Phelix and Kristin. She felt the dragon’s powerful muscles flex beneath her, and then the ground dropped away from beneath them. The force almost took her breath away, this was not the gentle sensation of flying that she had come to expect, Grashnir was moving as fast as he possibly could and the result was an uncomfortable lurching as the dragon’s spine arched and then flattened beneath her. Beginning to feel nauseous, Mina found her mind drawn back to what awaited them at Irhuiltan simply as a distraction before she lost the sparse breakfast that she and Kristin had found in Ygrash’ pack at Grashnir’s instruction. “Ygrash?” she asked softly, the dragon caster was deep in thought, so she had to lightly touch his shoulder to get his attention, “Are you afraid?” The mage paused a moment, considering the question, making Mina wonder if the question had offended him somehow, but the measured tone of his response put her mind at rest on that account. “No.” he answered thoughtfully. “Why?” Mina persisted, “How can you not be afraid? We’re going into battle against someone who’s almost killed you once already. Aren’t you afraid to die?” Death wasn’t something she had thought about much, it had always seemed so far off but of late it had been following so closely that she felt she must surely see its hideous visage if she looked over her shoulder. “What’s prompted all these macabre thoughts?” Ygrash laughed wryly, turning to face her as much as he could without falling off the dragon, moving at the speed that it was. Mina shrank away from him, wondering how long it would take for her to get used to seeing those hideous eyes where there had once been the dragon caster’s dazzling crimson irises. Ygrash sighed and addressed the question more seriously, “I don’t fear the unknown.” He answered levelly, “There are people who I would sorely miss if I were to die, but an equal number who I look forward to seeing again on the other side of Acheron’s murky waters, if the realm of the dead truly exists. Besides, if the denizens of hell break loose I think that those who aren’t around to see it are the lucky ones.” Mina considered the magician’s answer and wondered if he was being entirely truthful. What he had said alone did not explain why he heedlessly ran into battle without a thought of the risks. They had travelled together for about ten days now and while she had thought that she had learnt a great deal about the dragon caster, there was still a lot she didn’t know. She wanted to know more, now might be the only chance they got before one of them was gone, but Ygrash’ demeanour had become colder as he turned away from her again, leading Mina to conclude that she must have struck a nerve somehow. “Ygrash, if we don’t get through this, I just wanted to thank you for saving me from those men,” she felt her face reddening as she added “twice.” to the end of the sentence, feeling a little embarrassed. “We’ll get through it.” Ygrash answered at once, “We’ll stop Hydro, we’ll tell your sister the truth, and then everything will be all right again.” Mina scowled, embarrassment turning to anger in a heartbeat, “You don’t know that,” she snapped, “you’re just telling me what you think I want to hear. I’m not a child, I can deal with the truth. Last time we went up against Hydro you almost died and I don’t think he’s likely to leave you for dead twice.” Indignation was rising in her voice as she spoke and she could see anger rising in the dragon caster’s face in response, which showed how stressed he must be. He was never normally so easily riled. “If you think the situation is that dire, why are you here?” he demanded coldly. “My sister.” Mina answered without hesitation, “I’m afraid, but I know what I’m afraid of. She doesn’t know what’s happening and that’s worse.” Mina lowered her head and hunched her shoulders, feeling ashamed for snapping at Ygrash, it wasn’t his fault that all this had happened. “You really believe that we’re going to do this?” she asked softly. “I have to.” came the dragon caster’s response in the more amicable tones Mina recognised, “Otherwise what’s the point in trying?” Hydro The phoenix alighted at the foot of the mountain, having had some difficulty finding a space large enough to land. The vegetation grew thick over the foothills, flourishing on the rich volcanic soil. Hydro couldn’t help but think it ironic that something so destructive could still nourish life in such a manner, but then again it wasn’t really so different from what he was doing. By his acts of destruction across the next few hours his people would be given the chance to live in a world where each day wasn’t a battle for survival against the forces of nature. As the others disembarked from the back of the flaming beast, the draconian took the opportunity to consider them once more. Out of them all, Kyarra was the only one who really trusted him. Flame and Farathir he may have persuaded of his intentions by now were it not for the information they had on Amtear’s journey conflicting with his story. Dominique, well, no-one really knew enough about him to say for sure, Hydro still wasn’t certain for what reason the enigmatic magician had joined them in the first place. By the end of the day they would all know him for who he truly was, and they would hate him for it, in fact they would probably only meet again if they had swords in their hands. He had already resolved to let them go after his army was through, there wasn’t much, he reasoned, that they would be able to do against it. Once every squadron of crownguard piled through the gate there was nothing in this world that could stop them. They had been forced to land a short distance uphill from the opening of the priests’ path, so Hydro wasted no time in blazing a trail down to the towering archway. Cut into the mountainside were six thrones, all of cracked grey stone, and on them sat silent monarchs, each wearing their own crown of malachite and gazing blankly ahead with eyes of stone upon their dominion of dust. Where once four among them might have had beards chiselled of the living rock, fragments had broken off and lichen now clung to their places, resembling some horrendous blight or pox. The fifth figure was a woman, and of the sixth there was no sign, the overgrown brambles that masked that section of the shrine concealed all save the a small section of the back of the throne, until Hydro was left wondering if the sculptor had left it empty anyway. A towering portal stood in the centre of the monument, dividing the monarchs equally and leading away into the inky blackness beyond. “Dead kings and queens for a dead kingdom.” The draconian mused thoughtfully, reaching up to the visage of the king immediately right of the door to pull away a strand of creeper from the sorrowful face, even seated his head was set more than eight feet off the ground. On closer examination, the reptile found that the king was clad in terracotta plate mail sundered across the chest plate by aging and erosion. Had it been inflicted by a weapon, the blow would almost certainly have slain the wearer were he of flesh and bone instead of moss and stone. “Who are they?” Hydro looked around in response to the question which had come from Kyarra. “I don’t know,” he answered, “but I should very much like to find out once we’re done here.” He examined the statues each in turn, hoping to find something by which he could identify them if he encountered their likeness again in historical records or scripture. From left to right they began with a warrior lord. He sat with a chipped earthen blade across his knees and a helmet hung from his right hand. In his left the figure gripped with fragmented fingers a chalice that had once been encrusted with jewels but had long ago been picked clean by bandits and thieves, to the draconian, well versed in lore, it was recognisable as a symbol of victory. The youthful face was weary but pleased. The next figure was of an older king, enough of the original stone of his face remaining to betray a full beard had once been there. He had a sceptre of power gripped in his left hand and his craggy visage was stern but reasoned, “This one looks like he deserves a title such as ‘the just.’” Hydro stated with a mild chuckle. It was to the third that the lichen and moss clung most. He wore no crown and a bag spilling stone coins rested in his lap. A twisted smile marred a face that was neither old nor young and a dagger rested on the arm of his throne but Hydro’s eyes were drawn to the mask that hung from the back of it. The face it resembled was kindly, handsome, caring, while that of the monarch himself was a stage villain, sharp of eye and hooked of nose. The draconian looked quickly away from that one. Passing over the sorrowful man whom he had already examined, the draconian moved on to the queen who sat on the fifth throne. She had no personal effects surrounding her unlike the other monarchs, the gown she wore was not plain but neither was it excessively ornate and she sat awkwardly on her throne as if it had been made for someone else. Aside from that there was no more information the draconian could glean about the fifth monarch for her face was blank, almost completely featureless and everything about her had been left wholly unremarkable as if the sculptor was unsure of the detail but had carved the statue anyway. A closer inspection of the final throne revealed that it was indeed empty as the draconian had surmised. With a final hesitant glance at the sneering curled lip of the third king, Hydro idly conjured a fireball to light the path and was about to set off into the priest’s path when some writing etched into the arch over the door caught his eye. His breath caught in his throat, he hadn’t seen that flowing script for over a hundred years: the written language of the draconian empire. His empire. The others would have noticed his hesitation, so he elected to read out the message as if it were written in some ancient script with which he was only vaguely familiar. “Step from the past into the future. The Conqueror, The Magistrate, The Deceiver, The Penitent, The Lady and The Faceless bid you welcome.” He read, before adding sarcastically, “How kind of them.” Feeling distinctly unsettled, Hydro led the way forward into the darkness that was nowhere near as dark as his mind. Kyarra The darkness retreated before the flickering beacon that the draconian held in his scaled hand, revealing a narrow passageway cut into the rock. The walls were rough and irregular, and the ceiling was low, so much so in places that from time to time Kyarra would see the reptile’s wings shift as he lowered his head to avoid striking it upon the stone. There were even points where she herself had to duck to avoid the scratchy rock. It was growing warmer, even with the flow of air coming in from behind them. “At least it’s well ventilated,” Hydro commented, pausing for a moment to gaze up a narrow shaft that opened in the roof at one point, “we won’t have to worry about running out of air.” “How much longer does this tunnel go on for?” Kyarra asked, she was finding it tiring to concentrate on not missing her footing as the tunnel sloped first downwards, and then suddenly arrowed upwards without warning, leaving her uncertain if they were below ground level or above it. “I don’t know,” The draconian replied for the second time that morning, “last time I flew in through the crater but the volcano has become much more active since then, I wouldn’t want to try flying through that smog with all the sharp rocks and superheated magma around.” Kyarra nodded, the idea of ending up plastered all over some jagged precipice wasn’t very appealing. At last the tunnel opened out into a large cavern, though the darkness made it impossible to tell just how big until Hydro blew onto the flames he held in his hand and they fled to six braziers spread around the room. A colossal stone slab blocked the doorway at the opposite end of a cavernous chamber more than fifteen feet in height and more than twice as long as it was wide. A stone altar occupied the centre of the room, covered in dust and cobwebs. Of any other way out of the room there was no sign. “It’s blocked!” Kyarra exclaimed, dismayed. For a while, the draconian was silent, then he made his way to the stone that blocked the path ahead. “This is too evenly cut to be here by accident.” he mused, laying his hand on it’s smooth surface and closing his eyes. “As I thought,” he commented after a while, “this is enchanted to move when something is placed against it. Try the bloodstone.” Kyarra was curious how the draconian could tell that it was enchanted, but she did as he suggested and held the bloodstone against the stone. Nothing happened. “Well it was a good idea.” She said with a warm smile, “Any more?” “Perhaps it has something to do with the altar.” Hydro suggested, moving to examine it and brush the dust away from it with his claws. It was a large furnishing so Kyarra began searching the opposite side of it for any markings or clues about the door, but she was finding it difficult to concentrate. The end of their journey was in sight, what they had set out to achieve two weeks ago- was it really only two weeks? Gods but it felt like longer- was almost done. Now with victory in their grasp considerations such as what would happen once they were finished that had once seemed immaterial suddenly became more significant. There had still been no sign of Mina and Kyarra was sick with worrying about her younger sister, what if she had got lost somehow and was cold and starving somewhere far from any city, or what if she was dead already. Kyarra shook her head, she wouldn’t believe that, not even for a moment, she had to be out there somewhere and as soon as this wretched stone was destroyed she was going to find her. Hopefully some of the others might come with her. “Flame,” she asked, placing her elbows on the altar and resting her chin in her hands, “what are you going to do once this is all over?” The Underworld Kyarra The pterodactyls were waiting for them in the rooftop courtyard along with the other two blademasters and a squad of crownguard. Kyarra felt several pairs of demonic and reptilian eyes settle on her and heard a few muttered queries passed between the military but a glare from Sherentyr quietened them. Apparently they had already been informed that this assignment was going to be out of the ordinary. The weight of the longsword that she had strapped across her back was strange and unnatural. At the insistence of her tutors she had donned a light chain mail shirt which had clearly been made for a demon because of the wing slits in the back, but had refused to add any more heavy equipment, pointing out that her strengths relied on her being able to move quickly and shoulder plates would just hinder her moving her arms. Sherentyr had also counselled against wearing a helmet since it would impede her field of vision. “This isn’t your battle,” she told Tyrn and Kaitlyn quietly, “you don’t have to come with me.” She knew this was going to be dangerous, and she didn’t want to see either of them get hurt following her into danger. The same could be said of the crownguard, but given their skill with a blade, if they were likely to get hurt then looking out of them would be the least of Kyarra’s worries. “And let you get all the fun?” Tyrn scoffed. Glancing sideways at him, Kyarra couldn’t help but laugh, the former slave looked totally ridiculous in an ill fitting plate mail hauberk with chain sleeves and a full face covering helm out of the horn holes of which sprung tufts of his sandy blonde hair. None the less, she had seen him gain an effective if crude knowledge of how to use the broadsword over the past few days, one of which he was now carrying. “What’s funny?” he demanded sharply, raising the beaver of his helm as he looked at her. “Nothing.” Kyarra answered, looking away quickly, reminding herself sharply that what she had learnt of Tyrn included that he may enjoy occasionally laughing at other people but couldn’t stand being laughed at himself. There were a few moments of tense silence which was finally broken by Ycalrin taking up position on Kyarra’s other side, “Just remember what we taught you,” he told her softly, “when the fighting starts, concentrate on their sword, their footing, and if any of them start using magic, just smash them before they finish casting.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “Just try to leave a few for Shere, Dery and me.” Kyarra glanced across at Dereyith who was standing by one of the pterodactyls, strapping on his armour. True to his style, the blademaster had said nothing that morning and precious little across the days before, reminding Kyarra of a mute she had once known. She’d come to know the other two demons well enough to understand at least in part what their reasons for being part of the crownguard were, but Dereyith she still couldn’t piece together. She wondered if the other two knew any more than she did or if the final part of their trio was as much an enigma to them as he was to her. “Will Hydro be coming with us?” she asked of Sherentyr. “Not likely, that lizard hasn’t seen a battle in over a century.” “Anyone I know?” the amused tone had come from directly behind them and the demon whirled around sheepishly to come face to face with the draconian emperor clad in expertly crafted plate mail inlaid with gold and silver and a flowing crimson cloak hanging from the pauldrons. “Apologies, my lord.” Sherentyr answered with a bow. Hydro clapped the demon on the shoulder, “Worry not, ill thought words are only costly in the senate chambers.” He smiled broadly as he turned to Kyarra, “We have a favourable wind,” he announced, “we should make good time to the temple.” Kyarra smiled and accepted the draconian’s hand to help her onto the back of her pterodactyl, wondering as she did so how great an honour it was for the emperor to help her in such a manner and curious what the crownguard would make of it. Their expressions could only be described as wooden. Hydro It felt like a great weight had been lifted off the draconian’s shoulders as the pterodactyls took flight. He wondered briefly how the other half of his plan was faring, but concluded that dwelling on that was of no use. He knew that he would die before letting anything get in the way of fulfilling his objective, he was committed to his purpose and as of that time almost 200 years ago there was no turning back. The presence of the girl promised that the bloodline of the magician had survived and that the plan was proceeding as intended, albeit somewhat delayed. In just a few hours it would be concluded, all that remained would be the senate. The emperor still wasn’t sure how he would deal with them, but it didn’t matter. He knew the senate would rip into him for going ahead with the plan without consulting them, but it wasn’t his duty to please a room full of squabbling bureaucrats, it was his duty to do what was best for his people, whatever the cost. Hydro sighed, ‘whatever the cost.’ The cost to himself would be public disgrace, the loss of the respect of the people, depending on which side of the barrier the crownguard fell he might lose the throne as well, but it wasn’t that which bothered him. The cost to Kyarra, and her world, that was what bothered him. There had been a stern understanding reached when he touched the stone that there could be no second thoughts, he would have to be prepared to do whatever it took. He was ready to slaughter millions if he had to because that was his duty, and then to keep his people ignorant and so innocent of his crimes. It was possible, he supposed, that depending on how the other half of the plan had unfolded, the realisation of what he had done might just kill him. Hydro gave a dry laugh as he thought upon how that result would cheat the senators of their chance to question him, they would gain much less amusement from a corpse. He had forged an empire with the sword in the fires of battle, then he had brought law and order to it at the cost of the freedom of a people, not something he was proud of but something that had had to be done. They were his people too and he had had to abandon few to meet the needs of the many, just as he abandoned the hydromancers who went to their deaths each day to maintain the flow of life giving water into a barren land. He would fail them no more, once the portal was open there would be no more thirst, no more hunger, no more slavery. The draconian was a realist, he did not believe that it would be the answer to all his problems, such things did not exist in the real world. He knew he was trading one set of difficulties for another, but he hoped he was gaining much fewer obstacles in exchange for many. There was just one problem, if the senate took his crown, who would be around to face these new challenges? The senate might like to think that they were able to run the empire without him but it would take them forever to reach a decision on matters that required action and they would be thrown into a world that they knew nothing of. Hydro bit his lip thoughtfully, he was going to have to name a successor, and quickly, but it wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly. A dry mirthless smile cracked the emperor’s lips as he remembered Ycalrin’s words to Kyarra. There was a fight ahead, he could not afford his mind to be sidetracked. He would think of his opponent’s blade, his footing, and counter their magic with his own and when the dust settled he would stand triumphant, for the consequences if he didn’t were beyond consideration. ---------------------------------------------------------- OOC thread coming tomorrow, people already part of this roleplay are free to post as they wish, but if you want to join please PM me first.
	My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe.


Quixium56	8 Feb 2009, 23:22 Post #2
Quix Cheese Stix Posts: 66 Group: Developer Member #15 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Kristin had remained somewhat sombre throughout Ygrash’s entire regeneration; a mixture of both recognition of reality and what lay ahead dulled her senses, there was something hidden beyond the surface, something much deeper then she had ever thought to look – originally, you couldn’t blame someone for being naïve; but that was for the children, not the grown adults – She had far to come. She had witnessed these people around her go through great turmoil; Phelix, Ygrash, Mina, Grishnir; these people, they were all willing, sheer determination shone from them, and rightfully too – they had come this far, and proven their hearts were in the right place; but somewhere inside, Kristin doubted whether hers was in the right place too; or was she only here to find her fiancé? No, she was a part of this now; long were the days of one goal at a time; she was here to help them stop Hydro and his plans for hell on earth, and she was here to make sure that when it all boiled down to it, she helped save the world, whether or not at the cost of hers or anyone’s lives. This willingness to sacrifice her own life however, conflicted with the acceptance of the deaths of others – when Ygrash had almost died, her insides had tangled, she had not been ready to see death with her own eyes; and it shocked her, more so then being told stories whilst tucked up in bed and read to; it changed something, something deep inside. Something that meant she had to change her entire demeanour and the way she looked at things, she suddenly realised that, this could be the last day to make an effort, and that, the five of them, that they may never be together again. There was no option but to succeed; if they didn’t, that was it, they’d have to deal with it then – you can’t go into battle with doubt, you can’t face fate with any thoughts of failure, because the moment you’re entire concentration is not faced on winning, that’s when you lose it all. And that’s why she understood the way Ygrash answered Mina’s questions; Mina had a right to believe, and a right to know the truth – but the truth wasn’t that they were going to fail, oh no; the only way that would be truth is if the five of them flew into battle screaming ‘we’re all gonna die!’ but she knew saying that wouldn’t help. “A wise man once said to me,” she said out loud, from behind Mina, indirectly addressing both her, and Ygrash, “That anything is possible, as long as you believe in it completely,” She gave a light chuckle before adding, “Which is why one day I’ll be able to cook.” Dominique had had time to consider a lot about his position, and the reasons why he was now standing in the middle of a strangely warm cave squinting through half darkness as a draconian attempted to get through a stone door; none of these reasons were any primary concerns, nor blames; but more so of a collective effort that had got him here. Several reasons; one of which might have been curiosity; one of which, pride, for fame, for saving the world; compassion, helping Kyarra save her sister and save the world; He’d have liked to believe one of them was true and just, but everyone has some level of sin. He watched from behind the others of their attempts to bypass this huge stone stab, and concentrating his telekinetic energies within it, and with a soft purple glow, he attempted to move it – but to no avail, it was far too heavy to be moved by magic. Thankfully, he was too sure of himself that no one had noticed his failed attempt, and he continued to surmise silently off to the side. He was going to have to confront Kyarra at some point too; He was still unsure of Hydro’s intentions, he still knew that that stone had the power to bring hell on earth, and that any incantation, however innocent sounding could do very little to destroy the stone then the entire world as they knew it; he had put off telling her before now, due to lack of trust, but if he told her before, then maybe she’d hesitate at least, hesitate long enough for the group behind them to catch up and stop him – after all, he knew they wouldn’t give up, and so did Hydro; hence the fast pace they were travelling at. A sharp pain cast his hand slightly, his power had interfered with the stone stab, which must have been enchanted, and it was now giving him repercussions in his hand; he thought of the prickling sensation as nothing at first, but then it full on attacked his hand; like his body was trying to fight off the unnatural magicks that had found it’s way into his hands. “Damnit” he scolded, grabbing his hand around the wrist, and watching it slowly turn a dark brown colour, he attempted to use his magic to break it out, and as he stood there, silently fighting off this magical disease, the rest of the group were too busy trying to get past the stone stab to actually take any notice. Kaitlyn’s idea of fun wasn’t running around a battlefield fighting peons who only wanted to mercilessly cut her down – she was a pacifist ideally, but a pacifist with a sword, and as she had taught herself over the course of her staying in the palace, she felt she knew enough to actually survive mindless drones trying to cut her down. She too had dressed for agility, and had taken a lighter chainmail, and had done little else; except steal a crossbow and a few hundred bolts; She might not be good at hand to hand combat, but from a distance, she liked to arrogantly believe she could slip a few injuries from beyond the sidelines. She would have stayed, but the only few people she had grown to know and trust were going into this battle; and she didn’t feel safe at the palace, not now the emperor himself, and his crown guard weren’t going to be there to make sure she wasn’t accidently slain on behalf of Kyarra – no, for all intents and purposes she had to come, even if it was to keep them company, or haul their bodies off the barren battlefield after all was said or done. In the end, if she died here, it wouldn’t be any great loss; no one would care, and she’d be free at last – so, may as well take out a few bad guys whilst she was at it, right?
	"A Lion On His Side, Was It The Lying Or His Pride That Brought Him Down?"


Teddy Slayer	17 Feb 2009, 17:58 Post #3
Terry Slayer Posts: 18 Group: Premium Member Member #24 Joined: Dec 26, 2008	Amongst the melancholy band of dragon riders was at least one whose mind was not preoccupied with depressing fears of mortality and scary draconians-Phelix, who often found he had too much logic and confidence to feel truly afraid (a trait that was often described as bravery by some and stupidity by others), was more concerned with making their plan work rather than worrying about what might happen if it failed. Sure, there was a fair chance that not all of them would come back in one piece, but when you considered the fact that doing nothing would result in a far larger probability of not only the demise of their small group of five but the annihilation of a disturbingly large proportion of the world's human population... Well, it kinda put things into perspective. Mina's outburst was deeply disturbing, and not just because she'd managed to piss of Ygrash. She reminded Phelix of a frightened young soldier he'd encountered long ago... The deluge of icy raindrops stormed against the armour of a thousand soldiers like a hail of needles, washing down the stone steps of the castle's high walls in a surging torrent. A flash of lightning raked through the pitch black sky, illuminating the terrible view below the fortress-a vast plain trampled below the iron boots of an impossibly huge legion of barbaric orcs; the abhorrent repulsiveness of their countenance only equalled in repulsiveness by their ferocious thirst for blood. The opposing army was cornered between the mountains and their foes and the onslaught would soon begin, but though the twilight of the late hour and the heavy fog set low upon the ground obscured his enemies as if the very elements of nature conspired against him and allowed no reasonable estimate of the horde's true numbers or degree of armament, the commander of the besieged forces had but one scrap of intelligence that he knew to be correct: It didn't look good. It was just like the Lord of the Rings, only without the midgets. As they delayed their attack only to await the arrival of their siege weapons from beyond the dark hillock on which their warlord stood, obscured by the night, the innumerable multitude of warriors clashed their swords on their shields in a dangerously effective attempt to intimidate the resistance-to say it was working would be an understatement-let's just say there was rather more 'rainwater' around the soldier's feet than there should have been. Amongst the melancholy band of human soldiers was at least one whose mind was not preoccupied with depressing fears of mortality and scary orcs-Phelix, the only being on the battlements not coated in heavy plate mail armour, was leaning casually over the stone edge and wondering if, for his pre-battle pep talk, he should use the cliché 'Once more unto the breach dear friends/Do not go gentle into that good night/THIS IS SPARTA!!!' approach, or if he should wing it and improvise something a bit more heartening to those of the men around him who weren't crazed warriors with nothing better to do with their lives than throw them away by charging recklessly into a battalion of green-skins who outnumbered them by a ratio of approximately ∞:1. The soldiers around him muttered to eachother that this battle was impossible to win. Impossible? I like those odds... Wait, did I just do a one-liner in my mind?? The swords were sharpened, the archers were positioned and the mages were stocked up on mind runes but as the battle drew near something was terribly wrong with the human army: with the exception of Phelix, every single person within the castle walls was scared shitless (it was rather ironic actually; the only person around who wasn't heavily armoured was the only one who wasn't petrified). He'd never seen morale so low; it would be hard enough just to get them fighting, let alone put up a half decent defense. There was even talk among the commanders of surrender, a laughable concept when one considered the chances of a tribe of orcs actually taking prisoners as opposed to simply slaughtering them all as target practice. Eventually one of the higher ranking officers summoned up the courage to approach Phelix with the idea. Clearing his throat nervously, he voiced the thoughts of the entire battalion. "Sir, we are vastly outnumbered and victory is inconceivable. We must surrender." The response came with a long sigh. "You don't have to call me 'Sir', I'm not even from your continent. Anyway surrender is futile, they'll kill you all. Your only option is to stay and fight." "But their numbers are vastly superior to ours. There's no way we can win! This is madness!" "Madness? This is..." He stopped and shook his head. "There's nothing else we can do. You guys are supposed to be the best men of your country. Where's your warrior spirit? What happened to taking as many down with you as possible? Dying with dignity? Look I can see us through this, I'll keep your people alive but you have to actually help me here. We can do this." Unfortunately no one else seemed to think so (cue awkward silence). The majority of the soldiers were ready to give up and pray that their enemies would release them after looting the castle of all their belongings, and even those with enough sense to realise how unlikely that outcome was were unwilling to engage in combat when success was so hopeless, leaving Phelix with the unenviable decision to either escape from the valley by himself and leave the humans to their fate, or take on the entirety of the orc forces and their warboss by himself. Choices, choices. So, what he'd learnt from this misadventure was: that flying out to duel the enemy warlord in an epic one-on-one battle to save the day was awesome and he'd totally do it again! Wait no... What he'd learnt was that although a moderate amount of fear could be healthy, there's a point where it becomes a serious handicap, and that point is probably around about the point where the individual is too scared to freaking move. Oh, and also that flashbacks are cool. This problem of losing courage when things start to look bad was the main reason he hated working with a team-you could never really depend on anyone because they'd all too often let their emotions get in the way of doing their job properly. It seemed he couldn't trust anyone but himself when it came to doing something vaguely important because their personality always got in the way. Of course he knew there were some people in this world that he could rely on not to balls things up but they were so few and far between that he'd long since given up trying to find a team and ended up travelling solo. Even the bunch he found himself accompanying now had its faults: Kristin couldn't fend for herself, Mina was freaking out, Grashnir was too big and scary to get anywhere near public places and Ygrash had tied his soul to a bloody dragon, one of the most hunted and endangered species that hadn't become extinct yet. That wasn't to say he didn't like them; they were all quite amicable and they had their skills that would certainly be useful in the coming confrontation with Hydro, but if it came to trusting them with his life the answer would be a hasty 'no'. Phelix knew he was part of this group now for at least until they stopped Hydro and he had accepted that he would almost certainly need their help, but he still found it difficult to fit into the teamwork scenario so quickly. Still, it wouldn't do to have Mina getting worked up like this, especially when her role in convincing Kyarra of the draconian's intent was so integral. "A little bit of fear helps you think clearly, too much of it can control you. It's just your body telling you to be careful, so when you accept the danger and proceed with caution there's nothing to be afraid of anymore. Besides we all know we have to do this." He allowed a few seconds' pause before changing the subject. "Anyway I've been thinking about what to do when we catch up again. I know the last plan went tits up but we've got to come up with a better one, we can't just go in and expect things to come together like magic. Now what went wrong before was they had three fighters and we had two. We need to match their numbers when we meet them again which means you have to join in this time as well, Grashnir. Yeah, hanging back to provide escape was a nice idea but after this we won't have another chance so we have to give it everything we've got. That means everyone helps out. Consider it an all-in strategy if you want. Oh and this time we want to stop the battle before it can begin to avoid anyone getting their face melted. So, when we approach them we'll declare straight away who Mina is. Flame will predictably say we're lying and attack, and of course Farathir will follow his master's orders unquestionably, so we need to have you"-this was addressed to Mina herself-"there to tell them yourself. Don't worry, they can't touch you with Kyarra there. In a perfect world we could end this without anyone beating anyone else up but universal law dictates that something will go wrong. Probably caused by Flame. But yeah... If anyone has a better plan I'd really, really love to hear it." It was annoying in a way that so far in this journey he'd been the only one trying to come up with a strategy of some sort. What would the group have done if he hadn't tagged along? Would they have attempted to form a plan of their own, or rush in cluelessly and get slaughtered in a frenzy of arrows and fireballs? Phelix wasn't one to spend time worrying over 'what if's, but he had to wonder if Ygrashnir were as competent at this adventuring gig as they made out.



Hydro14	18 Mar 2009, 19:42 Post #4
Fanatical Roleplayer Posts: 130 Group: Mentor Member #8 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Ygrash In the past the dragon caster had seen more than his fair share of adventure. At first his motives had been purely his own personal vendettas, for a decade he and Grashnir had lived only for the fire of battle against the dragon slayers guild. Cyra’s death had shaken his resolve and hate had been all he knew, but he had never quite lost himself to the extent that he would harm anyone undeserving as a means to draw out the dragon slayers. He had sought them out whenever he heard of their presence, sometimes even facing more than two teams at once, never thinking of them as people. Eventaully, realising that his former student was on a warpath to his own destruction, the archcaster himself stepped in. Ygrash didn’t renounce his cause easily but faced with the question of what he would do after the battle was won, he had found himself to have no answer. He had learnt an important lesson that day: that when you live only for hate, when there is no-one left to hate, you have nothing to live for. Seizing on what little of himself he had left he had found something else to fight for and the archcaster had left him with the stern instructions to return to the tower when he had found his peace, not with his enemy, but with himself. This time he was fighting for something more than his own peace of mind, however. He had fought against beasts, necromancers, warlords but never before had the consequences of failure been so clearly drawn out. There had always been a chance that someone else would put an end to the threat if he fell, but this time there could be no such intervention. The fate of the world, for good or ill, would be decided within the next 24 hours. He wasn’t sure he was ready. He rebuked himself for not being entirely honest with Mina. Yes, he was afraid, but not of death. If this battle was won, he decided, he was going to return to the tower, finish his arcane studies. The destiny of everyone who lived in Teramil was too great a responsibility for someone who fought only to ease their own sense of guilt. Perhaps a seat on the council of the dragon casters might be more suited to his disposition. It would take some work to get there to be sure, but perhaps he would find it therapeutic to spend his time helping other dragon casters solve their respective dilemmas. “Keep your mind on the moment, Ygrash.” This soft word of caution had come from Grashnir who had clearly sensed his companion’s concentration slipping. The dragon caster gave a smile of thanks in response to Kristin’s efforts to cheer them all up. It was true, sombre thoughts posed a greater threat to them now than the blades of their foes. The strength and might and skill of an adversary could make the tide of battle turn against them, but only ill thoughts and melancholy could lose it before the conflict had even begun. To draw his mind away from such matters, Ygrash turned his attention to Phelix’ battle plan. “Last time they saw us coming from a mile off and so were able to block us from ever reaching Kyarra. That is where our plan failed: Hydro anticipated our diversion. Whether or not the same will happen again will depend entirely on the terrain, which we can’t predict. In the event that for whatever reason we can’t speak to Kyarra, we need a plan to deal with the others. Hydro will need to stay with Kyarra to ensure she opens the portal, so odds are if we can’t get to her then he won’t be around to engage in combat, which already gives us the edge in numbers, particularly if Dominique chooses not to fight us. Flame and Farathir will know how you fight, Phelix, so be cautious of them, but on the flip side of the coin you’ve also seen a bit of their fighting style. Obviously watch out for the cat, it could be anywhere. Of the two others I would say that Farathir is the weaker; if we break his bow and melt his knives, that’s him done for. Flame could be awkward, particularly if he decides to immolate the whole battlefield as he’s likely to do from what I’ve heard of him. Grashnir and I will deal with the elf, everyone else bundle the drow. As for Hydro, if we have to fight him we’ll just play that one by ear but it’ll take all of us to bring him down. With a bit of luck we won’t have to match blades with him until after we’ve foiled his plans, in which case we all run like hell.” “Not without my sister.” Mina chipped in, Ygrash paused a moment, a pensive expression on his face. “If he knows his plans of deception are shot Hydro might try something more direct to get Kyarra to open the portal.” He mused, “We need to make sure that as events unfold she or anyone to whom she has an emotional attachment do not fall into Hydro’s clutches.” A brief pause while he considered the implications of this, “So it looks like a ‘no-one left behind’ endeavour.” He concluded with a grimace. Phelix was going to absolutely love that idea, he could tell. Kyarra Flame gave a thoughtful smile as he considered her question and in spite of her concern Kyarra found herself smiling too as the elf made his way around the table to stand beside her. “I think I might go home.” He answered lightly, although she thought the carefree tone was a little forced, “I’ve thought a bit about my reasons for travelling and I think it’s time I settled matters with my father.” Kyarra looked away, trying not to show her disappointment and wondering how to slip the small matter of Mina’s predicament into the conversation. Flameweaver didn’t seem to notice. “Just wait until you see the city, Kyarra,” he was saying, “great towers of marble and diamond that gleam in the sunlight and sparkle in the starlight, water so clear and pure it looks like liquid glass. And trees, older and wiser than the mountains themselves, those trees could tell you stories of a time before the world began.” Kyarra felt that she ought to laugh but it was half hearted at best. “It sounds wonderful,” she replied “and I’m sure my sister would love to see it too.” Flame’s expression became more serious in a heartbeat, “We’ll find her Kyarra,” he promised, drawing her close, “we’ll find her together.” Standing there feeling his powerful arms around her, Kyarra believed every word, at that moment it seemed as if nothing in the world could harm her and nothing could go wrong. She knew deep down that it wasn’t true but it was a wonderful feeling that she wanted to last forever. “Thankyou.” She replied softly. Kyarra had never been one for keeping her emotions hidden, but she was a little shy about expressing affection in front of a group of people. A surreptitious glance around the cavern however showed that Hydro and Farathir had tactfully busied themselves examining the altar. For a moment, she gazed up at Flame’s bright crimson eyes, then, surprising even herself, she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It felt like merely a moment until their lips parted but it must have been longer for it was with a rather impatient frown that Hydro announced that he had made a discovery. Hydro The draconian ran his hand over the rough stone surface of the altar, able to make out from its cracked façade a series of small indentations where five objects, no more than the size of a pebble had once rested. Upon closer examination, he was also able to determine that there had once been inscribed upon the surface some words. Most of them were worn away by time, however to the draconian the even length of the lines and the clear metre with which they had been written suggested some form of riddle. It was these discoveries that he imparted to Kyarra and Flame. “I can only deduce,” he concluded, “that the riddle must have been a clue to opening the door, the answer to which would have been one of the five objects, and that the correct one would have opened the door. Someone it seems has been here before us and thought that they would take the objects as mementos. Where they are now I can’t begin to guess.” He was unable to keep the anger out of his voice as he spoke. Why had he not had the foresight to come here sooner and solve all these puzzles. He had spent centuries eliminating any possible unknown elements from his design, and yet here was one so obvious it had slipped under his cursory gaze. As the draconian’s eyes fell upon the slab that blocked their path once more, however, a wry grin crossed his face and an idea began to form. “Flame, something that will play to your skills, I believe.” He stated brightly, walking around the table to stand by the elf, “We’re going to try something a bit simpler than usual.” He pointed at the stone, “Think you can melt your way through that?” In the end it took a joint effort from both pyromancers to begin to make an impression on the great lump of marble. A large circle of the material began to glow red hot where the pair were focusing their energies, then the glazed surface began to bubble and boil until at last the stone itself started to flow and trickle down to the floor. “Keep back.” The draconian cautioned, away that the magma would be probably hot enough to kill anyone who it touched by shock alone. When at last there stood a hole large enough for someone to crawl through, the fire mages ceased their efforts and advised that the group waited until the heat had abated before attempting to pass through. Edited by Hydro14, 19 Jul 2009, 08:44.
	My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe.


Quixium56	19 Mar 2009, 02:02 Post #5
Quix Cheese Stix Posts: 66 Group: Developer Member #15 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	One glove on and one glove off was a weird look for Dominique, but it didn’t really bother him, not within his current predicament. From behind the others, he lifted his gloved hands, frowned and grimaced slightly, and helped cool the lava – of course, Phelix may have been able to have done the job a little faster, but unfortunately he wasn’t available right now. “Can I just point out that the aurora surrounding that marble is cursed,” He said loudly, from behind the group, “So, I may need to know about those objects later Hydro.” He walked around the table to join the others, lowering his arm as he did so, and tucking the now-gloved hand into his cloak, “By the way, excellent work on by-passing the door; It seems whoever lay in wait never thought they’d come across two great pyromancers!” “Do you really think we’re the only ones?” Kristin said aloud, almost accidently, if not for the fact she was truly curious about it all. It hadn’t come across before, but, out of everyone else in the world, it had come down to their banded group of 5 to stop Hydro from opening a gate to hell; and remembering how she herself and got onboard in the first place… she seriously wondered why no one else had formed their own fighting troupe to try and beat Hydro and his team; even if only to become famous; or see if the rumours about the Bloodstone were true; why had it fallen on them five to save the world? There had to be others out there, surely? “Are we really the only ones who can stop Hydro?” The light shined through the his window, casting a dark red beam to fall onto the old frail wooden desk, where lay parchment laced with ink calligraphy which spent out the heading “Bloodstone.” As time passed by, the narrow beam of crimson passed slowly from the parchment to the figure in a chair beside the desk, laid back, over the back, clearly unmoving, most probably asleep - the figure was draped completely in a rich purple, which under the tinted light forged a new alloy of colour which could most easily described as beetroot. The figure stirred as the light passed over his face, and over his eyes, which slowly opened, and squinted. Seconds rolled by before the man moved up from his slumber and adjusted his neck; sweeping locks of straight blonde hair from over his face, which had swung over as he had sat up, he lightly traced his eyes over the parchment infront of him. It took much longer then a mortal man for him to register the characters, even if there were only ten; and as he did so, the narrow beam of fading light had begun to turn a pale orange as it cascaded past the chair, and up onto the wall next to the desk – it illuminated the herald shield on his wall, and due to the angle, dispersed orange all around the room. The room itself was small, it contained a bed, a desk separate from the one the man was sat at, the chair he was sat upon; and various bookshelves containing a mismatch of books, whose volumes ranged from big to huge – the names of which too small to even make out despite the size of the cover itself. A book which had belonged most probably on the top shelf now adorned the floor, and it had a large ornate dragon decorated with precious stones on its front cover; one wouldn’t need to have great perspicacity to work out it was a book about dragons, but one could be forgiven to suggest it was about the slayings of which. The man rose from his chair, and made his way to the window, lifting the sill, to open it up – the cold breeze flew in, and relished in the new freedom; the man’s hair danced in the wind, and he showed signs of a small smile as he glanced across the horizon – the sun was slowly dropping from the sky, hitting his pale cyan eyes, almost daring him to close them – but instead he defiantly stared on, ignoring the effect it had on his vision. Strangely, the sky had begun its transition to navy earlier then most; it’s why they called it the summer solstice after all. A resounding knock at the door, brought him back into the room, and speaking for the first time, he called “Enter!” before closing the window with a swift action, and yawning. “Sir, they’re ready to see you now.” The door began to close to which the man said, in a resounding sarcastic manner, “You don’t think I’m crazy too, do you Malcolm?” The closing door sound swiftly stopped, and a few seconds pause before the man identified as Malcolm, turned and bit his lip in response. The man gave out a loud chuckle, sat down on the bed, and leaned back against the wall, “These dreams are real, I can assure you.” “I don’t...” “I’m not asking you to believe me Malcolm, I’m asking you to treat me like any other ordinary person,” He replied sharply. “I’m sorry sir” “And when it’s just the two of us?” He interjected just as quick “Uh… I’m sorry… Quinn” ((There’s an absence of Quinn in this legend)) Edited by Quixium56, 25 Mar 2009, 22:21.
	"A Lion On His Side, Was It The Lying Or His Pride That Brought Him Down?"


Teddy Slayer	28 Mar 2009, 00:07 Post #6
Terry Slayer Posts: 18 Group: Premium Member Member #24 Joined: Dec 26, 2008	Rather than inspiring ideals of altruism and bravery, Ygrash's last words actually planted a dark thought in Phelix's mind that was undoubtedly unintended by the dragon caster. No one left behind? How about no one left behind alive. It had suddenly occurred to him that if Kyarra was to kick the bucket then Hydro would be unable to move the stone to where he wanted it. Killing off the innocent maiden to foil his plans would be the last thing the draconian would expect. It would be a last resort of course; she hadn't done anything wrong and was caught up in the whole mess purely by bad luck but trading her for the rest of the world sounded fair enough. You just needed a bit of perspective to see it; that was something that most people trampled under emotions however. 'Oh no, we can't send someone on a suicide mission to save the planet from a horde of evil face-eating aliens because that would be morally grey. Oh please. Phelix realised that this wasn't a great time to share his thoughts, and not just because he didn't want to spoil the positive mood. Maybe it was best to mention it quietly to Ygrash later; the idea wasn't likely to go down well with certain members of the group (well, all of them probably, but Ygrash was the one most likely to understand). He hadn't known the others long but he didn't need to to guess what their reactions would be. The Ygrashnir duo would condemn it at first but with a little convincing they would accept it as a necessary evil if there were no other options. Kristin was actually more likely to agree than the rest of the team-she closely rivalled Phelix himself in remaining calm and logical during a stressful situation, and she even managed to come across as cold sometimes. That would sound harsh if he said it out loud, but it was more likely to work in their favour then against-better to have a team mate who can sacrifice someone without regrets for the greater good than someone who will instead break down in tears over the heart breaking dilemma and spend ten minutes giving a horrendously drawn-out goodbye speech to the victim, meanwhile the world ends. Besides, it wasn't like he had a problem with it-he was the one who had had the idea of killing Kyarra after all. And then there was Mina. If there was one person in the group, or in the whole world that he wouldn't voice his thoughts to, it would obviously be her. Let's see, she's young, female and emotional, oh and she's Kyarra's sister. He could just picture the conversation: 'Hey I think we should murder your sis.' Slap. 'I'm sorry, I really am, but it's the only way.' Slap. 'But-' Slap. 'I really think-' Brutal bitch slap, followed by running away to cry. Yeah... Best not to go there. Sacrificing Kyarra was not ideal, but if it came to it and there was no other way Phelix would do what he had to. No hesitation. Well, maybe a few seconds worth to tell her sympathetically 'Life's a bitch, what can you do?' Kristin's question provided a welcome excuse to avoid responding to Ygrash's comment and a very welcome escape from the dark schemings of his own mind. Wait, does escaping from your own mind make you insane? "Yeah, pretty much." That is, 'yes we are the only ones', not 'yes I am a nutcase'. "The chances of anyone else actually knowing about what's going on are pretty faint, and if anyone does they won't be any closer to the volcano than we are. And since we're cutting it so fine on time there's no way anyone will arrive in time to help us either." Sadly if she'd wanted hopeful optimism she wasn't going to get it. "Now let's see, the city defense armies never leave their hometowns to chase after ancient artifacts and no posh snob with a private army would go after one either unless it was made of gold. Any other organised militia wouldn't bother with an ancient rock unless it can explode and hurt someone they don't like, so the only kinds of people who would actually show more than a passing interest in the bloodstone, enough to notice it being stolen, are archaeologists and wandering adventurers. Now I don't mean to apply an unfair stereotype, wait actually I do, but an archaeologist couldn't beat a wombat in a fight so the only kind of person who could know about this plot and be of any use to us is another hero who was meandering around the continent on some personal business, or just out of boredom, and randomly found out about the stone going walkabout. Kinda like me, but not quite-for starters they wouldn't match my general awesomeness and modesty. Now unless fate is conspiring to help us out, and it's not or else Hydro wouldn't have the dumbest yet ironically the most powerful elf for hundreds of miles around as his own pet tool, then the probability of another random hero embarking on an epic quest to recover the bloodstone is pretty unlikely by itself, but when you add in the fact that the ability to travel at any decent speed through a desert is pretty rare even among the travelling hero types... So yeah, we're on our own basically." Oops, I hope no one was relying on the comfort of the possibility of backup 'cause I just shattered that illusion nicely. Edited by Teddy Slayer, 28 Mar 2009, 00:10.



Lord Synical	30 Mar 2009, 04:51 Post #7
Site Douchebag -//- Official Badass Posts: 162 Group: Admins Member #6 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	...Two Hundred and Ninety-Six, Two Hundred and Ninety-Seven, Two Hundred and Ninety-Eight, Two Hundred and Ninety-Nine, Three Hundred! Flameweaver pushed himself off of his resting point against the granite wall at the end of his mental countdown, or count up, as it were - peering curiously at the opening he had helped to burn into the marble; cursed marble if Dominique was telling the truth. But then, did the man have any reason to lie? The pyromancer hadn't considered the mysterious human for a time since their flight over the desert, reopening the proverbial book on their vanishing companion even as he scoured the group and spotted him amongst his companions. Odd was the only way to describe Dominique, odd and mysterious, regardless of the fact his innate nature as a human made him so. Humans... he thought, already forgetting his musings about the male and locking his scarlet gaze on Kyarra with the slightest smile, ...curious, short-lived creatures. So busy in their day to day lives. Hasty, yes, hasty... always trying to do as much as they can before their inevitable death. He paused at that, forced to stop and consider Kyarra in a new light. How mnay generations of her family had he outlived? How many centuries did he have left wherein she would be little more than ash and his love for her a constant reminder of his own solitude. Death, the one enemy he could not destroy, the one indominable country from whose bourn no creature returned. "How does one stop death..." He murmured, barely aware of the echo his voice - despite being cosniderably hushed - caused about the space. It was this, among other things, that made him realize how very futile it all seemed. They ventured deeper into the volcano, they destroyed the stone, the Lizard went off to his rest and he, Farathir, Demon and Kyarra travelled back to his homeland. His homeland... the thought of home made his mood darken to one of sour trepidation. The prospect of returning home was daunting, something that inspired a greater fear in the elven battlemage than any foe - living or dead. To return to a land where he wasn't merely another traveller making his way, where pretty girls both plump and slim didn't wink at him in taverns and sway their hips with such elegant, seductive skill. A land where he had duties, obligations and a father to confront. Ah, father, the man who had so vehemently opposed his only son and heir in his choice to join the military - to take up the Mantle of Blood. Leading the Blood Mantle had been one of his single greatest achievements, one of the central parts of what made leaving his home and crown worth it. That and leaving behind the memories... the memories of his betrothed and the attack that tore apart his life. He would have to face that before he could marry Kyarra. Marry Kyarra... now that would be a sight, his father's look of disbelief would make it worth every second of penance he had to pay for his disobedience. Blinking himself free of his reverie, he shifted his eyes back to the hole in the marble, striding forwards and crouching down upon his haunches to inspect it, reaching out and pressing his hands to the edges. Nodding in satisfaction, he turned to the others and beckoned with his left hand, right loosely holding the left edge of the opening as he called out, "Lizardbrain! It's cooled off, let's get moving!" Spotting Farathir's facepalm, the pyromancer only grinned and passed through the hole - merrily forgetting the warning that it was cursed.
	Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.


Hydro14	9 Apr 2009, 11:49 Post #8
Fanatical Roleplayer Posts: 130 Group: Mentor Member #8 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Overworld Hydro “Cursed, eh?” Hydro mused. He recalled that when they had first entered the chamber he had placed his hand on the slab of marble and had come to no harm because of it, but then he had not attempted to manipulate the magic or the stone in any way. A perplexing situation, to be sure. “I think perhaps the correct word is ‘warded’,” the draconian stated, “Enchantments that aren’t meant to be undone in a hurry are often cast in such a manner that they cause arcane backlash to anyone attempting to unravel them.” The reptile couldn’t help but be relieved by what had been rather a close call, his next solution to the problem would certainly have been to attempt to modify the enchantment and move the slab without whatever was intended to motivate it. For a brief moment he wondered with some sympathy what the warding had done to Dominique, however there was no time for concern. The depths of the volcano awaited. The draconian passed through the hole second, cursing as his wings got stuck against the edges of the cavity. At last he fell rather, in the form of a rather inelegant bundle of robes, to the floor of the pathway beyond the stone. Conjuring a fireball, Hydro surveyed his surroundings. The darkness retreated before the flickering flame, surrendering to the reptile’s vision another roughly cut walkway. A short distance away the walls took a smoother but less regular finish, as if the passageway had met up with a natural cave. What alarmed the draconian was the way the two met as if the passage had been sheared across, a wall jutted out of the left side of the passageway until it obstructed half the path which continued a good three feet to the right. He glanced dubiously upwards at the roof to check if it was likely that any rocks were about to fall. “Looks like the ground’s shifted recently.” He commented to Flame and Farathir, who was emerging from the hole in the slab. “We’d better watch our footing from here on.” Hydro took a step forward, his eyes on the ground beneath his feet, and yelped. There was a dull thud and muttered curses about low ceilings, then the draconian realised that what his head had connected with was in fact a torch bracket. Closer inspection revealed a pile of ashes beneath the assembly, the torch that had once burned here had burned out long ago and there had been no wind to scatter the remains. On the positive side, the fact that the torch had burned until it ran out of fuel suggested that once again oxygen wasn’t going to be a problem. “We must be the first to pass this way in many centuries,” Hydro speculated, “Amtear never made it to Irhuiltan on his quest. This path was made by the devotees of deities almost as old as Teramil itself. It’s sobering to think that this conduit was cut out of the living rock before any of us took our first steps and will probably be here long after we’re all gone to dust.” The draconian reached down and took a handful of ashes, then let it slide through his fingers slowly, giving an ironic chuckle, though what he found amusing was anyone’s guess. Kyarra The stone was still quite warm but not unpleasantly so as Kyarra began to wriggle through the gap in the towering slab of rock. She was saved from a rather undignified landing on the other side by the scaled hand of the draconian waiting there. She brushed the dust from her clothing and tidied her hair while they waited as Dominique scrambled through the hole, then they were off once again, the draconian leading the way and Flame bringing up the rear, both pyromancers using their fire to light the dark passageway. For some time the path followed a winding route like a sleeping serpent, on occasion folding back on itself and sometimes falling away so sharply that Hydro had to cast his fireball into the depths to test how far away the ground was. Finally the passage became straight once again and began heading steadily upwards. Around the outline of the draconian leading the way, a warm hazy glow was becoming visible. Abruptly, the corridor opened out into another great cavern, however this one was lit from the moment they entered. “Are we there?” Kyarra asked, unable to see around the lizard who had stopped in front of her. “No,” Hydro answered, “we’re not at the crater yet.” He stepped to one side, giving her a better view of the room. The first thing that struck Kyarra was the heat, it was stifling, the only thing she could compare it to was the time when she had been in the rooms around a dwarven smithy, however this was worse for lack of ventilation. Smoke hung thick in the air like a vile miasma, obscuring most of the roof of the cavern save for a small point lit from above where a jagged crack allowed a narrow lance of daylight to penetrate the murky air. It appeared that Hydro had noticed it to, for he commented to her, “We’d never have found that from above ground unless we knew where to look, and we can’t use it to get back out without a rope.” Kyarra nodded, realising that the draconian was correct. This was not, however, the main source of light. The walls of the cavern was lit orange and red by a bright glow emanating from a craggy ravine that split the chamber evenly across the middle from which a tremendous heat haze obscured the other side of the cavern. Hydro had set off towards the centre of the room, his stance low and balanced, as if he expected an attack at any moment. Seeing this, Kyarra reached for her elemental sword. “You won’t need that.” Hydro stated, “Anything that was in here is probably dead already.” In response to her questioning glance he also added, “Keep on your toes though, the ceiling might not be firm.” “Well that’s our destination.” The draconian commented as he reached the edge of the precipice, pointing across to the other side of the cavern. “How to get there could be problematic.” Kyarra squinted into the heat haze, trying to see what he had spotted, and at last caught sight of the small opening of another tunnel on the far side of the ravine. At that moment, a lance of flame shot up out of the chasm, obscuring her view. “Magma,” Hydro’s voice once again as the reptile peered down into the pit, “I can’t risk flying people across with flame vents like that flaring up without warning, we’ll need a bridge of some kind.” “Up there!” Kyarra had spotted something that had previously been obscured by the smoke which had been parted by the fire. A large metal construction hung suspended from the cavern roof by four thick cables, it was unmistakably a bridge but far too high up to be reached. “Do you think there’s some way to lower it?” Hydro asked, “Those cables look thick enough for even a sword to be ineffective and if they’ve lasted this long they’re not going to melt very easily.” “I think it might be connected to those gears over there.” She answered. Indeed, one wall of the cavern was covered in a complex mechanism of interlocking cogs and wheels, one of which was linked to a crank, another vanished into the wall, above which extended the cables connected to the bridge. With a thoughtful look on his face, the draconian approached the apparatus. Ygrash The desert sands were slowly receding, replaced first by dry tufts of vegetation and a few sparse shrubs, then finally by a dense forest. “This is no good.” Grashnir snorted, “We could fly right over them and not even notice.” “That doesn’t matter.” The dragon caster replied, “We know where they’re headed.” He pointed away to the horizon where a purple silhouette was rising against the clouds. “Irhuiltan. Journey’s end.” “We’re not too late yet.” Grashnir deduced, “The air isn’t swarming with fiends from hell.” “You wouldn’t be able to see them from here.” Ygrash responded. “You really have some problem with optimism, don’t you?” the dragon answered indignantly. “Realism, Grashnir.” The caster reminded him dryly, “Take us lower, they might have posted a lookout.” “Red dragon against green forest canopy, brilliant for avoiding being detected, eh?” Grashnir laughed, taking them higher up instead. Underworld Ycalrin The pterodactyls had been flying only just above the rocky ground to avoid being spotted by the rebels who had set up their war camp only a short distance from the temple when suddenly the earth dropped away beneath them. A massive basin had been cut into the ground and in its centre was the sprawling structure of the temple itself. The outer wall had been heavily fortified with wooden palisades and boarding to protect those within from archer fire. Large, splintered holes in this line of defence coincident to heavy boulders driven into the ground revealed the presence of catapults in the enemy assault group. “They just don’t know when to quit do they?” the demon sighed. “Who?” The voice from behind him belonged to Kyarra, the human had had trouble controlling her pterodactyl not long after the journey had started and so the blademaster had offered to help. “Rebels.” The demon answered, his eyes now moving across the crownguard encamped behind the inner wall, searching for any familiar faces. He had been fighting here only a few days ago and he knew Hydro had re-directed several groups of crownguard here since then yet their numbers seemed scarcely any different than they had been. “Set down in the plaza of Aeshtir.” The voice of the draconian emperor was just audible over the leathery noise of beating wings. “Hang on tight.” Ycalrin advised his passenger, banking the pterodactyl smoothly to the right and swooping down towards a clear tiled area in the temple courtyard before the statue of a draconian, twenty feet tall in warlike attire. Standing once more on solid ground, Ycalrin hastily requested a report from the blademaster in charge of the defence of the temple and gave advice on the allocation of resources to better hold the outer wall. They had taken heavy casualties, mostly the result of hit-and-run attacks by the rebels or the occasional lucky shot from a catapult. The captain had recommended an air strike against the rebel siege weapons but his peers had insisted it was unnecessary. Ycalrin quickly countermanded that decision and gave the captain orders to prepare a team for this at once. He did his best to ignore one of the other humans crawling away from his pterodactyl and vomiting at the feet of the statue, vowing never again to fly just after eating breakfast. The crownguard all saluted Hydro as he made his way down the paved path away from the courtyard and into the temple, Ycalrin falling into step behind him as he did so, followed by the humans, the other blademasters, and Hydro’s honour guard.
	My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe.


Quixium56	10 Apr 2009, 12:30 Post #9
Quix Cheese Stix Posts: 66 Group: Developer Member #15 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Kaitlyn considered Tyrn with half a grin; she’d managed to strategically avoid breakfast, so that in any off chance, the only thing relapsing on her was air and stomach acid – something she thought would make a nice weapon if activated effectively. Either way, when Hydro began to head off towards the temple, she offered Tyrn a hand up, and they followed on after Kyarra, Kaitlyn herself with a vacant expression; as she surveyed the surrounding area, it was a lot different from that of which she was used to, she’d never seen anywhere as old. Everyone around her looked painfully obedient, that she felt it necessary to test the ground by dropping a whimsical line, to see how long it would be before she was asked to stop at blade point. “The décor around here is fantastic, you guys must really like ‘moralising’ grey,” She smirked. Dominique clambered through the hole last, the warding hex was beginning to die down now, but he firmly believe there was still a brown-purple-tinged hand under his glove, he’d have to be a smooth criminal to get away with tampering with ancient magicks and come out unharmed. The next cavern was terrifically warm, and the presence of magma and smoke only heighted his annoyance for volcanoes, something he wasn’t completely trained to do – coughing slightly, he stepped out into the open, and lifted his gloved hand – immediately the smoke in the room began to spin, until it half dissipated, the warm air replaced with something slightly cooler – he dropped his hand again, and this time was able to see the three main articles the room had to offer without squinting. He was slightly pleased that this hex hadn’t damaged the effectiveness of his magic; although it had dulled his nerves, and so he never felt the strain of using his manipulation, which is some ways was advantageous. The bridge, the hole, and the wall of cogs – it was evident that the cogs and bridge were somehow linked; but it dawned on him how incredibly ancient they must be, and whether or not they still worked was another matter. “We couldn’t cut the cables, the bridge is slightly smaller then the gap – we’d lose it in the magma,” he pointed out, “However, with a bit of...” He lifted his hand towards the cogs, but stopped short; he wasn’t going to turn them if they were warded too now was he? He turned with concern to Hydro and with it almost evident in his voice, “I can move them, but how do we know they aren’t warded as well?” “We’re assuming that Hydro will run on with Kyarra aren’t we? So Phelix, tell me about Flame, and how he uses his magic; If we plan strategically, I could simply burn him out by amplifying his magic beyond his control – that would be enough to you enough leeway to deal with him – I’m going to need defending from Farathir and that damn cat though – hmmm, that’s a thought, perhaps I could errantly tamper with the demon cat..?” Kristin was deciding how best to make herself useful in the upcoming struggle, it was obvious there would be one, even with the damage Ygrash had received in the previous battle, Hydro can’t have fully dismissed the possibility of a rematch, not with the fate on the world riding on the waves.
	"A Lion On His Side, Was It The Lying Or His Pride That Brought Him Down?"


Teddy Slayer	11 Apr 2009, 22:29 Post #10
Terry Slayer Posts: 18 Group: Premium Member Member #24 Joined: Dec 26, 2008	The transition from a yellow-grey landscape to a green one was a very refreshing change of scenery, and the sudden appearance of the volcano on the horizon was perhaps more uplifting than it should have been. A giant smoking cauldron of a mountain was supposed to be a foreboding symbol of doom from which no man has ever returned alive et cetera, not a gleaming ray of hope that they might yet be in time to plunge into its dark fiery depths to battle the forces of evil. Wait. That's not supposed to be a pleasant thought either. For the first time in his life Phelix found himself wondering if perhaps he found this business of risking his life to save the world a bit too exciting for his own good. Naaaaaaah. Kristin's schemings were simply too devious to not grin at-the idea of screwing over the pyromancer in such a way that he basically blew himself up was a delicious scenario that he allowed to dance around his mind for a moment, practically salivating at the vastly exaggerated but oh-so-satisfying image of that warmongering cretin burning himself to a crisp before suddenly exploding in a gloriously messy shower of flaming gibs. Mmm... Giblets. "Flame in meltdown... Now that's something I'd like to see." He didn't even try to hide the sinister delectation in his voice. Everything about that elf he found despicable; the all force no thinking approach he applied to a battle, his 'immolate first ask questions later' attitude and most of all the way he defended his draconian puppet master so fiercely without once pausing to allow someone to explain how gullible he was. Okay, so he thought he was one of the good guys, but he was still a total prick. "Hmm, how does Flame use his magic. Well, first he throws a fireball. Then he throws a fireball. Then he charges up... and throws a bigger fireball. If you piss him off enough he tries to nuke everything in sight, that's when you can step in and make it backfire. Oh and that lame excuse for a demon shouldn't be a problem; most animals have a crippling weakness against swords, I've been on both sides of that battle, and it takes especially good technique for them to overcome that. Dragons can do it, cats can't. If you can screw with the magic it uses to disappear and recover you might destroy it completely. And Farathir... I don't know." He looked down at the burnt out shield on his left arm in dismay. It could still absorb fire attacks but the overload that Kristin had induced in the previous fight had completely frazzled the conducting wires that carried the energy from the ice core to the shield's surface, rendering the anti-projectile mechanism useless. There was no way to get any replacements out here in the middle of nowhere; these were the kind of expertly crafted components you'd pay a world renowned dwarven smithy a year's supply of ale for (not that Phelix had acquired his quite so... legally) and it wasn't just a case of sticking a bit of copper wire down and forcing the magic through it, you had to temper the metal dozens of times between blasts of raw elemental energy to make it conduct a spell properly before drawing out the metal into a useful shape. Finding or creating a new set was simply out of the question. "But I wouldn't be me if I didn't try and improvise..." he muttered to himself before tearing the old crispy fried wires off of the shield and casting them carelessly to the wind, the burnt out and battered metal quickly disintegrating in the air, and immediately he set to work: inventing stuff. The first problem was finding a long and thing fibrous material as a substitute for the wires, and the solution would probably not be so obvious to most people. Phelix however was used to thinking up a stupid idea and making it work, and with no hesitation took ten or so hairs from his own head and twisted them together into a tight spiral resembling a tiny rope. Next step, sticking it down onto the shield. Making glue? On the back of a flying dragon you say? Good day sir, such a thing could never happen! Good thing I've got a herb for everything eh? From the mysterious depths of his rucksack came a generic green leaf that looked exactly the same as every other plant in his stash, to the untrained eye anyway, and into a tiny flask it went where it was to be mixed with...saliva. Yep, the second ingredient for the coagulant mixture was Phelix's spit which he happily provided into the flask with the leaf, and within seconds a chemical reaction had started in which the plant matter dissolved into a gooey, sticky mess. Whilst he was shaking the flask up gently to speed things up Phelix looked back at Kristin and advised her "If you're lost in the woods and you're feeling peckish please don't eat this species of plant. It's not pretty when it reacts with the saliva when it's still in your mouth. Pretty good defense for the plant actually." By now the glue was fully ready and he poured a bit out over the bundle of hairs which were in position on the back of the shield, linking the core to the outer rim. The sticky substance slowly and reluctantly oozed out of the flask, glass being one of the few materials it couldn't bind to, and dried onto the shield and fibres in a messy gloop that wasn't exactly aesthetic, but looks were hardly important. Especially when it was on the back of the shield that no one would ever see. Repeat the process for five more hair bundles and you have six evenly spaced 'wires' radiating from the centre to the edge of the shield (~~here's one I prepared earlier~~). It now looked pretty much the same as it had before being barbequed, but the critical difference was it couldn't conduct for peanuts... Which is where electroporation comes in. Phelix placed the thumb of his right hand on one end of one of the hair bundles and his index finger on the other end and magically pushed a small current through the glue-smothered string, then with his other hand he gently ran a finger along the bundle, applying the essence of an ice spell with a faint, light blue glow. It wasn't actually ice he was conjuring but the harmless pure form of energy that could be used to cast ice magic. This energy was absorbed by the hairs which had been forcefully made more permeable by the electricity, and when the ice core was triggered the presence of the essence in the hairs would make them super conductive to the energy emitted by the core. That was the idea, anyway. It was kind of a radical approach and no one could really say if it would work, but Phelix had a certain confidence in his own ability to pull off what others would call impossible. At the very least, it was worth a try. When all six replacement wires had been zapped and charged he strapped the shield back onto his arm, then extracted an arrow from his bag, snapped the head off and chucked it into the sky. As it descended it fell towards the shield held high and... Cha-ching. The ice defense fired off as intended, and actually it came out faster than before, and producing a slightly wider and thicker layer of ice. Through improvisation and a bit (well, a lot) of creativity he had managed to invent a new kind of conducting fibre that worked even better than the tried-and-tested metal ones the dwarves produced-and he'd done it using his own hair. This could mean only one thing: "I am a genius..."



Lord Synical	14 Apr 2009, 08:45 Post #11
Site Douchebag -//- Official Badass Posts: 162 Group: Admins Member #6 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Flameweaver Flameweaver frowned and peered at the cogs, moving closer to the confusing array of ropes and pullies and trying to discern exactly how to use the apparatus. It didn't appear to operate magically, though Dominique's skills could possibly come into use regardless... then there was the matter of how to stop it from randomly raising itself in their absense, as this olden day remnants were liable to do. Reaching out, the elven battlemage grabbed one of the levers and pulled... to no avail. Again, he reaffirmed his grip and pulled with all his might... with just as much success. Taking a step back, the prince carefully analyzed the metal contraptions every feature, rubbing his chin as he scanned every inch of the mechnical assembly with a look of deep concentration. Finally, grinning to himself triumphantly, he nodded and strode forwards, victoriously reaching out and grabbed the far right lever. With a heave, he dragged it downwards... enjoying his success with a look of slightly bafflement a moment, befor e agrin started to enroach upon his features. That's when it snapped back up. "OH FUCK ME!" Echoed loudly in the corridor as Flameweaver leaped away, cradling his right hand which had been slightly crushed beneath the rising lever. Glaring a look of pure, unrestrained hatred at the pulley: He conjured a fireball in his left hand, the white flames creating a stark contrast to the granite around them as he reared his arm back... and felt a firm hand wrap around his wrist. Turning, the pyromancer regarded the calm face of his Dark Elf companion shaking his head, violet eyes shifting to the metal assembly as the fireball in Flameweaver's hand dissipated, the ranger moving with his same leonine grace to the contraption and beginning to examine it, running his hands along the levers and ropes, attempting to find something that perhaps was only known to his mind alone. Farathir This doesn't look right... Was the first thought that came to the ranger's mind as he carefully examined the make up of the lever system, his natural love for puzzles aiding him in deciphering this particular mystery. Curiously, he tugged down the lever his fire-throwing companion had and canted his head, snapping out his free left hand and catching one of the ropes. Pulling his hand from the crank and allowing it to return to its original position, the dark elf lifted the rope slightly and his expression darkened. Reaching in with his right hand, he grimaced and searched around before taking hold of something unseen and lifting it up. After a few more moments' inspection, Farathir made a sound akin to an angry lion and dropped whatever he was holding in his ebony hand. Turning to the lever that had so defied Flame, Farathir raised his foot and kicked with all his might, snapping it off from the wall with more ease than should have been possible. Not even bothering to explain, he bent and picked up the dull piece of metal, turning to his companions and raising it up into the light for all to observe. The bottom of the metal had been decayed by the heat of the granite in which it was embedded, the Volcano's effects having completely destroyed a vital part of the lever - the part connected to the rope. Only small threads remained from what was once an undoubtedly sturdy length of material, a dismaying sight if there ever was one. "Broken." That was all the ranger said, throwing the metal piece to the ground in near disgust, his lavender gaze drawn up to the tantalizingly close metal bridge above them. It seemed an impossibility now, almost a fooolish dream that they could ever conjure a means of travel to the suspended ark. Lowering his gaze with a sigh of resignation, Farathir turned to Hydro, his gaze level and calmly impassive as per usual - perhaps hoping the draconian had some miraculous solution to pull out of the air as per usual.
	Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.


Hydro14	14 Apr 2009, 10:47 Post #12
Fanatical Roleplayer Posts: 130 Group: Mentor Member #8 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Hydro The draconian examined the assembly with an intrigued expression, even after Farathir had declared that it was broken. In response to Dominique’s inquiry, he paused for a moment, resting his hand on one of the heavy metal wheels. For a while he sought out the fibres of an arcane weave that simply wasn’t present. “This,” he declared, “is about as magical as your average garden snail.” Hydro slowly walked along the gear covered wall, tapping cogs as he went, as if tracing the path of motion that would have been followed were the mechanism operable. Finally he came to a point where the wheels vanished into a wall, where another group of levers were set into a metal gearbox. After examining the rock face for a moment longer, the draconian took a step back, channelling magical energy into his hands. Without warning, he threw himself forward, expelling the energy from his palms into the rock face, which inexplicably began burning. As the stone began to disintegrate, it revealed itself not to actually be stone at all, but wood that had become charred and blackened over the years so as to be indistinguishable from the rock it was set into. Yet more gears rested beside the panel and Hydro set about climbing them to the top where the largest gear was linked to a metal drum around which was threaded the cables attached to the bridge. “Seems unnecessarily complicated to simply lower a bridge.” He commented to himself. All of a sudden one of the gears beneath him turned, and a broken beam swung out, stopping just short of the draconian’s ribs. Upon closer examination, the reptile deduced that it had once carried a rather functional steel spike. “That would be why.” He stated rhetorically. “Hydro perhaps you should come down from there, the next one might not be broken.” “I’ll be careful, Kyarra.” The draconian promised, as he reached his goal. The steel drum was roughly half a meter in diameter and smooth of surface, turned by a gear at one end. Upon the teeth of this contraption, Hydro placed his hands and heaved upon it with all his might. When that failed to have any effect, he released the grip of his feet upon the wall so as to put all his weight on the gear. Still nothing. Finally he spread his wings and began manically flapping up and down to make the force he was exerting on the cog less even. Eventually he realised that it just wasn’t going to work and with a sigh he set about climbing back down again. “The mechanism must be jammed somewhere.” He shared with his companions below. With his feet back on solid ground for a moment, the draconian declared that he was going outside for a moment to clear his head, and so saying spread his wings and darted out of the crack in the roof. Kyarra It was stiflingly hot inside the cavern and Kyarra found herself glancing enviously after the draconian as the sound of his leathery wing beats retreated into the skies above. Growing impatient she glanced back at the confusing contraption that Hydro had unearthed in addition to the first section. At a glance she couldn’t be sure how exactly it was meant to work but Hydro had said that it was jammed, so she knew that she was looking for something that had become unable to move. Finally her gaze fell upon a large gear that wasn’t flat like the rest of them, but had a slight curvature to its surface. At some point in time it must have been subjected to uneven heating and had so become morphed and twisted. She was about to share this discovery with Flame, but hesitated. She was tired of it always being someone else who got things done on this journey while she sat and watched like so much useless baggage and above all she wanted to be out of this cave. It was too hot, perspiration was pouring from her forehead in torrents and it was making her hair go all straggly and her clothes were sticking to her skin in a most unpleasant manner. Determination creasing her brow, Kyarra hauled herself up amongst the mesh of gears as Hydro had done, climbing towards the wheel that she had identified as being broken. The sleeve of her tunic ripped after becoming caught on a rusted piece of metal but she didn’t care, she just kept climbing until she reached the gear. Finally reaching it she found that she had been correct, while the front of the wheel had distorted slightly, the back had become melded around the rock face, there was no way that she could free it without carving through the rock itself. She considered using Flame’s sword but realised that even if the sword was up to the task there was no way she could swing it in such a confined space. She glanced downwards to ask Farathir if he had any ideas and inadvertently caught sight of how far off the ground she was. Kyarra took a deep breath and ardently fixed her eyes upon the cavern roof above until her heart stopped racing, then sternly told herself not to look down. “I suppose this climbing business is okay for people who have wings.” She muttered darkly. Searching the wall for a way back down, she paused as she caught sight of a drive belt connecting a gear linked to the broken wheel to a row of cogs that led directly to the drum. Suddenly struck by an idea, she set about climbing towards it once more and positioned herself within arm’s reach of it. Taking a deep breath, Kyarra released her grip on the wall with one hand and drew the elemental sword. Hesitating for a moment, she examined the gears on the other end of the belt; they were straining under the weight of the bridge, only held in place by the length of material. If it was cut the bridge was going to go into freefall, but she wasn’t prepared to give up on her idea just yet. “Dominique,” she called out, “get ready to catch the bridge! Don’t worry, you won’t have to hold it for more than a moment.” Without waiting for a reply, Kyarra corrected her grip on the sword, whispered a silent prayer to any gods that were listening, and swung the blade with all her might against the belt. There was an ear-splitting ‘crack’ and then a metallic shriek as the rusted wheels sprung into action. Mina Mina tried to follow the strategic conversation between Phelix and Kristin, making an effort to think of some contribution, but her thoughts dwelt on her sister who was somewhere on the slopes of the volcano about to release the fiends of hell upon the world. Her gaze continued to be drawn back to the smoky mountain whose colour had faded from a hazy purple to a rich brown. A sideways glance at Ygrash revealed that the dragon caster wasn’t paying much attention either. ‘He’s like me,’ she realised suddenly ‘he prefers to just act on the moment. The others would get one well with Kyarra, she likes to have a plan.’ It was as Ygrash turned his eyes upon the DIY magical shield of Phelix’ construction to comment “I wouldn’t trust my life with that if I were you.” That Mina spotted something moving upon Irhuiltan’s slopes. “There!” she shouted, pointing at a strange red spot that seemed to be circling somewhere half way up the mountain. For a time the dragon caster followed her indication, squinting into the distance, then abruptly shouted something in the language of dragons and leapt over Grashnir’s wing joint into the air before his wings had even finished forming. “I think it was Hydro.” Mina said, shocked at the dragon caster’s response. Ygrash’ form was already disappearing into the distance towards his enemy, a staff of lightning grasped once more in his right hand. “Come on, Grashnir, we can’t let him fight Hydro on his own again or he’s going to get himself killed.” The dragon only grunted in response, saving his breath for flying as he accelerated once again, straining every muscle to get to the fire mountain before Ygrash started the battle without them. ‘At least if Hydro’s still out here,’ Mina thought to herself, ‘that means that he hasn’t opened the gates yet. We’ve still got time’
	My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe.


Quixium56	15 Apr 2009, 22:12 Post #13
Quix Cheese Stix Posts: 66 Group: Developer Member #15 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	“Again,” Kristin added, rolling her eyes – she wasn’t going to help him heal back from a pile of ashes again, she hadn’t got enough energy to spare – which remind her, she couldn’t use too much energy if their plan somehow failed and the portal opened, she couldn’t be doing with fainting if they had to dive in and rescue people from Hell. And anyway, she wanted to see Dominique. Noticing that Grishnir was building up speed, she grabbed onto Phelix’s back for support, until she felt secure, it was almost time for the final battle. Dominique nodded, and lifted his arm out towards the bridge, which, now falling at a great speed, sped towards the chasm – he concentrated his power, but he wasn’t sure how much it would take to stop several tonnes from breaking his arm, so he reinforced his arm with his other arm, grasping it firmly; watching in slow motion as the bridge fell down and down until. Dominique let out a strained noise, and the bridge came to a halt just a fraction of an inch lower then the ground they were on; as Kyarra said, he only had to hold it for a few seconds before he no longer had to hold it “NOW!” Letting go, he pulled his other arm away and stared at his hand; he remembered making the straining noise, but he didn’t feel the slightest bit of pain at all, it was like this threshold was numb; frowning but changing it into a grin, he looked up at Kyarra, a look of awe now brandished across his face. “Very well done..” he said lavishly, offering a hand for her to get down, “It was such a shame Dragon ~~force~~ face wasn’t around to see it.”
	"A Lion On His Side, Was It The Lying Or His Pride That Brought Him Down?"


Teddy Slayer	19 Apr 2009, 22:46 Post #14
Terry Slayer Posts: 18 Group: Premium Member Member #24 Joined: Dec 26, 2008	Ygrash's comment on the reliability of Phelix's craftsmanship went mostly unchallenged since the caster had soared off before any reply could be made; however he did shoot him an amused glare before he left. Of course he would trust the shield with his life, simply because he had made it and he trusted himself with his own life. Anyway how could the guy criticise others for health and safety hazards then fly off towards Hydro by himself in the same breath? Seriously, respect for the bravery and all but if he didn't wait for the rest of the team Ygrash was just going to get himself killed. Again. Yeah, what Mina said. Three things happened while Phelix was putting the flask of glue back in his bag: Grashnir accelerated, Kristin put her hands around his sides and he glanced down to check all the wires were secured onto the shield properly. The result was he found himself looking at Kristin's fingers, or more specifically the ring worn by one of them which had caught the light in his peripheral vision as he looked down, which suddenly reminded him of the almost unnoticeable weight of its twin hidden in his own pocket. He still wasn't exactly sure what he was doing with it; it was a rather odd thing for Dominique to have given away... unless he didn't expect to survive to see his fiancee again? How very morbid. If so, was he expected to give the ring to Kristin straight away? It was hard to tell, the telekinetic hadn't given many instructions before throwing him out of the window. No, he decided, Better hang on to it until we catch up to Dom and see what happens. If all goes well I can just give it back to him. Not that things have ever gone well in this adventure. Oh, don't be so pessimistic. I'm insane, I'm allowed to be pessimistic too. I'm not crazy. Stop questioning your mental health. My mental health. Whatever. But I'm holding a conversation with myself in my mind... Fair point. Phelix sighed out loud, though of course no one else would have a clue what about. Probably for the best. Edited by Teddy Slayer, 19 Apr 2009, 22:49.



Hydro14	21 Apr 2009, 20:40 Post #15
Fanatical Roleplayer Posts: 130 Group: Mentor Member #8 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Overworld Kyarra The wheels rattled ominously as they spun, their gnashing teeth creating an unholy cacophony. Alarmed, Kyarra pulled away, afraid that contact with the berserk machinery would rip her from her perch on the wall. None the less, she reversed her grip on the sword and leaned away from the rock face so that she could see the falling bridge. “NOW!” It’s a good thing that Dominique had called, for at that moment another burst of flames from the ravine had obscured Kyarra’s vision. Without a second for hesitation, she swung the sword towards the cogs and drove the blade into the wall between two of the teeth. There came a terrible metallic creaking sound as the telekineticist released the bridge, but the gears didn’t move. Kyarra turned her attention to where the metallic walkway hung over the abyss, about a foot below the ground but still easily usable, breathed a sigh of relief, and grinned. Kyarra clambered down in a dreamlike state, not really remembering how she found her footing on the broken gears. The next thing she remembered was being at the bottom of the sheer rock face, being helped off the wall by Dominique. Before she could reply to his praise however, there was an agitated flapping of wings about the cavern roof and the draconian landed untidily on the ground nearby. Kyarra was mildly annoyed that Hydro only gave the bridge a cursory glance and threw a general “Well done.” at whoever might be responsible without any investigation, but the severe look on the draconian’s visage told her that they had a far more serious problem. “I’ve been spotted.” He stated swiftly, “It’s the dragon riders, I don’t know how they recovered from their last defeat but they’ve caught up with us again.” “What? Again?” Kyarra was alarmed, “But why? We’re so close to destroying the stone, why are they so intent on stopping us?” “Who can say.” Hydro replied quietly, “One thing we can be sure of is that they’ll catch us before we reach the caldera unless we can slow them down.” Kyarra was still waiting for Hydro to finish speaking, assuming that he had some plan to collapse the tunnel or something that would prevent their pursuers from reaching them, so she missed whatever wordless signal the draconian had read from the elf, however she could determine that he wasn’t surprised by it. “Flame, it’s a death sentence.” The reptile spoke solemenly, “I wasn’t holding back when I fought that mage in the desert any more than I was against you in the forest, and he still fought me to a standstill. This isn’t a battle you can win.” “No you can’t!” Kyarra had finally caught up with the unspoken section of the conversation, “If you’re staying here we all are.” “Kyarra don’t be foolish,” this voice was the draconian again, “if that stone isn’t destroyed then we’re all dead, or worse, we can’t risk you being injured. We’ll head on up to the caldera, I’ll teach you how to destroy the stone and then we can come back here and help in the fight, but the stone comes first.” “The stone comes first.” Kyarra repeated dully, then shook her head, “No, if this quest is about saving people then we have to start right now! If we start considering the life of one of our friends to be a reasonable sacrifice where does it end?” “Kyarra, for Dragons’ sake, this isn’t a perfect world where everything turns out all right in the end. We have to do the best we can with the opportunities given to us and above all we don’t have time for this!” Kyarra couldn’t agree, but she’d run out of words to argue and feared that if she tried to speak she’d lose the uneven battle against the tears that threatened to flood from her eyes. Angrily she brushed them aside and glared at Flame, “I’m not saying goodbye.” She stated firmly, then ran across the bridge, assuming that Dominique and Hydro were following, though a glance over her shoulder told her that the draconian was still trying to dissuade Flame from his suicidal course. Ygrash The dragon caster cursed as the circling crimson figure he had been flying towards suddenly arrowed downwards towards the treetops. Aware that he had been spotted and that his foe might be preparing an ambush, Ygrash gave as swift pursuit as possible, focusing the energy in his staff into a ball that he smashed into the ground as he landed, sending out a burst of electricity all around him and so foiling any efforts to make a swift end of him while he was unprepared. The magician checked his footing and surveyed the area. Trees dense as algae on a stagnant pool clustered around the narrow clearing and formed a canopy so thick that beyond the confines of this one chamber the forest was as black as ash. Ygrash twitched as something moved in the undergrowth, lightning crackling across his knuckles as he prepared to strike at the draconian, but after a moment a badger, that looked only slightly less startled to see him than he it, scurried out of the leaf litter and then made a quick retreat. The dragon caster waited a moment longer as silence reigned once more, relaxing slightly: of his quarry there was no sign. Readying his weapon once more, Ygrash took off at a jog in the direction he had seen Hydro go down. Had it not been for the broken branches spilling an illuminating ray of sunlight onto the ground, the dragon caster might have missed the crack in the ground entirely, concealed as it was amongst the thick buttress roots of a towering oak. As it was he cast a cursory glance into the shadows to check that it was indeed where the draconian had fled to, then raised his hand to the sky and fired off a plume of flames to act as a signal flare to guide Grashnir down. The tremendous crash that followed almost made him recoil in shock. “I’d assumed you were going to find somewhere more open to land and then come here on foot.” Ygrash commented to the gigantic bundle of broken branches and leaves that vaguely resembled a dragon. “Time is fleeting.” Grashnir reminded him. The dragon caster nodded and pulled a rope from one of the dragon’s travel packs and lashed it at once to the tree before letting the end fall down into the cavern below. “Well this is it.” Ygrash commented, mild disbelief creeping into his voice, “Let’s go save the world.” Underworld Kyarra Shadows closed in, blanketing Kyarra in a cloak of midnight. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw a wide chamber, cut from neatly fitting stones that blocked out all light save what spilled into the chamber through a pair of iron gratings set into the roof. Six grey pillars loomed out of the murk, three either side of a carpeted walkway that might have been red or could’ve been blue, in the darkness they were both the same. On an altar in the middle of the room, directly beneath the first of the gratings, rested the bloodstone: a crimson jewel the size of her fist, teardrop in shape and set into a gold pendant. “It feels like a crypt.” Kyarra commented, squinting into the shadows around the edges of the room where recesses were set into the walls, containing scraps of cloth and other more solid looking objects. “Are those bones?” “The guardians of the bloodstone have historically had very short lives.” Ycalrin whispered, “A short time after being chosen to serve, they die, some quickly and without any warning, others sickening over time. When they pass on their remains are interred here.” “What kills them?” Kyarra asked, feeling more uncertain with each passing moment. All the stone surrounding them was starting to feel oppressive and an unshakeable sense of foreboding was hanging over her. The demon had no chance to reply. “Let’s get some light in here!” This call had come from Hydro, “We can’t fight if we can’t see.” Sherentyr and Dereyith took torches from their brackets in the wall and Ycalrin lit them. The crownguard spread out around the chamber, lighting braziers and incense burners, anything that would provide light. “Where are they going to come from?” Tyrn was demanding of Hydro, “There’s only one entrance and you’ve got a whole army out there.” As he spoke, two platoons of crownguard were filing in the entrance and taking up positions either side of the chamber. “The portal will appear where the boundary between worlds is weakest.” Hydro announced, pointing towards an alcove in the back wall where the light from the second grille landed. Kyarra glanced at the point the draconian had indicated but couldn’t see anything special, the stone didn’t appear to be any different from what surrounded it. “What now?” she asked. “Now,” the draconian replied, taking the bloodstone from its resting place and passing it to her, “we wait.”
	My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe.


Lord Synical	24 Apr 2009, 13:32 Post #16
Site Douchebag -//- Official Badass Posts: 162 Group: Admins Member #6 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Flameweaver stood there, barely even hearing Hydro speak as he went over his spells and forms in his head, well aware that he was more than likely a bodily sacrifice to stop their enemies from getting to them... but then, why did they want to stop them? After all, destroying the bloodstone would eliminate a large threat to the world as a whole... opening the gates of hell? Yeah, that was something that should be prevented at any cost. Of course, they were probably cultists or some sinister obligation with the generic wish to plunge the world into chaos, which was counter-productive cosnidering the fact that in a chaotic world there would be no profit just... well, chaos. But then again, since when did villains ever think logically? That made him chuckle, probably strange considering the topic of Hydro's monologue. Turning away abruptly, Flameweaver merely ignored the draconian and walked away, down towards the tunnel towards the hole he had helped make. The enemy would be coming from there and he wasn't going to be caught unawares. Aware of Farathir knocking arrows beside him, the elven pyromancer immediately began to chant in his native tongue, creating the basis for a spell that would greet their foes with a bang. Or maybe a boom.
	Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.


Quixium56	25 Apr 2009, 23:47 Post #17
Quix Cheese Stix Posts: 66 Group: Developer Member #15 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Kristin peered through the hole to the cavern below, the top part was rather smoky, and her original thoughts of staying up with Grishnir were misplaced – she wouldn’t be able to see the fight, let alone aid from above. There was no option but to get down and hide behind the nearest shield she could find, and if that happened to be a large rock, a huge cog or Phelix, then so be it – she couldn’t be caught out vulnerable in this battle, lest they’d lose. She’d learnt over time how to predict when to fire her ability to work best instead of just supercharging whenever and wasting her own energy, so if worse came to worst, she’d be running around clicking, hoping she could time the ability with her ally’s attacks. She’d never quite delved into using her power to overload yet, but she was privately convinced she would try overpowering one of Flames attacks to see what would happen, and to see if he’d disappear in a huge plume of smoke. She chuckled out loud at the thought before looking at Phelix, “Would you like to do the honours?” she grinned. Dominique watched the proceedings unravel themselves before his eyes; he always had a side view in this matter, and although he had a generic dislike towards Flame, he did feel for Kyarra when she said there shouldn’t be sacrifices. But the news of the dragon team still flying desperately towards them meant only one thing: they weren’t doing this for their own good. Running across the bridge, not even pausing to admire the handiwork, he followed Kyarra into the next tunnel, and gently grasped her shoulder, enticing her into a standstill; a long way away from the opening to the last cavern. “Kyarra, there’s something I need to tell you,” He said seriously, for once, abandoning the carelessness in his voice, and without giving her time to throw him off, he swerved round infront of her, now grabbing her by both shoulders, and looking directly into her eyes, with the aura of man about to try and fix his past mistakes. “If they’re still coming after us, they’re coming to stop us from opening the gates of Hell – we’re both the good guys, they won’t kill anyone,” he started, making sure she’d listen by offering her an explanation of Flame, continuing to stare no where but her eyes, he continued, “Promise me that you’ll be careful; we don’t know how to destroy the stone, or summon these gates. Just think: what has Hydro got to live for if the stone is destroyed? He’ll no longer have any reason to live.” That last bit had troubled him somewhat, just was that Draconian planning..?
	"A Lion On His Side, Was It The Lying Or His Pride That Brought Him Down?"


Teddy Slayer	30 Apr 2009, 22:56 Post #18
Terry Slayer Posts: 18 Group: Premium Member Member #24 Joined: Dec 26, 2008	As Grashnir crashed down in the clearing Phelix was already peering down the foreboding crack in the ground; not being one to waste time he had simply hopped off their ride onto a tree branch while the dragon was slowing his descent with his wings. It was hard to see anything for a few seconds as a wave of heat surged into his eyes and a cloud of smoke drifted by but he didn't let it deter him from getting a good look at the cavern below-better to get used to the conditions now before they ended up fighting in there. Of course, this was probably being a little too cautious since Kyarra was down there, which meant it couldn't be that bad. After all, if a girl could take it then pretty much any male would easily adapt to the volcanic environment. Ooh I just went there. So far he'd been looking around cautiously from the entry point the draconian had kindly led them to, barely peeking over the edge of the rock so as not to let any potential foes, mammalian or otherwise, spot him as he studied the layout of the cave below, though fortunately most people have a curious habit of never looking up anyway. Beyond the hole there was a bone-breaking drop to the stone floor of what looked like an even bigger room with a lava filled trench running through the middle-whether this feature was purely decorative or designed for one to kick people into was an interesting thought to consider. Yeah, it could just be a natural rock formation, but that would be boring. More likely someone carved it out to add to the atmosphere of their volcanic lair of doom. It wouldn't be the first time. Ah, sweet memories... Phelix's eyes glazed over in nostalgia for a split second before he snapped out of it and shook his head. Now wasn't the time to think about beating up bad guys in volcanoes in the past, now was the time to go do it again. Hehe. Anyway, beyond the floor directly below and a small circle around it with the fiery ditch to one side there wasn't much to see, as the sides of the hole itself blocked any view of the rest of the cave or the walls-the only reason the crack hadn't already expanded into a great big cave-in was the thick rock ceiling, which the hole bored through for a metre or so before opening out into the cavern. Well, it wasn't much of a panorama but if that was all the intel they were going to get it would just have to do. Standing up suddenly, he swiped the hair out of his face with a careless hand movement and walked over to the tree to which Ygrash had tied the rope, smiling back at Kristin as he passed with a reassuring confidence, as well as a subtle hint of maniacal glee at the prospect of jumping into a volcano to foil an evil megalomaniac. Not something everyone could say was one of their hobbies certainly, but at the very least anyone would have to admit it sounded exciting. What do you mean, 'it sounds more scary than exciting'? Oh well, maybe it's just me then. My gosh, I can't even remember the last time the climactic battle of some important quest took place in a volcano. Oh wait yeah I can, it was the other Tuesday, and once every week before then 'cause every flipping bad guy out there wants their evil lair of doom to be in a pit of lava. I don't know why they bother with the theatrics to be honest, it always ends with them falling in and melting. Get some bloody health and safety standards for goodness' sake, I'm sure you could borrow some from somewhere 'cause the rest of the world's got too many for its own good. They even banned ice magic in Rethilia city last month so people won't slip up on it, the asshats. I think I'll pay them a visit at some point and freeze over all the roads for jokes... Alright alright, I'll stop reminiscing. Yeesh. Fortunately these thoughts had all passed through his mind within only a few seconds and by now he was at the tree where he quickly checked the quality of Ygrash's knot, preferring not to jump down any long drops without being able to trust the rope he was hanging onto, but to his credit the dragon caster did apparently know how to tie a decent knot. Phelix gave the rope a quick yank just to tighten it before walking back to the hole, glancing at Ygrash as he passed, a bit disappointed at his ally's apparent surprise. Maybe he was a rookie at this adventuring thing after all. "Don't worry, I do this all the time" he commented briefly, before immediately hopping down the hole and out of sight. Phelix's first impression as he slid down the rope, right hand on the rope and left poised to raise his shield if needed, was that the room (if you could call it that) was a lot bigger than it looked through the narrow hole, and also far more modernised. A complex array of gears lined one wall, but were presumably useless now since the bridge they were roped to was already lowered across the lava trench he'd seen from above. His second and slightly less important thought was that he was really glad he had leather gloves 'cause that would have been a really sick rope burn (the thin metal plates on the backs of the knuckles were also kinda handy for punching people's faces in). Oh yes, and there were no angry elves or draconians in the room. That too. The rope swayed back and forth once before he let go, a couple of metres above the ground, and flew forward through the air for a short distance before making an almost completely inaudible crouched landing and looking around quickly for any threats lurking in a dark corner or under the bridge or in that long dark tunnel stretching off into the distance with Flame in it or-wait. The caldera is over in the other direction... Whether it was because the pyro had the sense of direction of a lemming or whether he'd accidentally left his ego back at the volcano entrance and decided to go back for it Phelix couldn't tell, but he'd been outside in the open air only thirty seconds ago and the tunnel leading to the centre of the mountain was definitely not the one the elf was walking down. If he was actually making a strategic attempt at holding a chokepoint to stop them getting through to Kyarra he was clearly a complete spaztard because you didn't need to read The Art of War to understand the concept of defending the area between the thing you're defending and the closest entrance to it. Good god this idiot's lack of common sense was depressing, even if it did work in Phelix's favour. With no sign of Dominique, Kyarra or Hydro it looked like they were getting too close to the caldera for comfort. Farathir was no doubt following his lord and master Flameweaver off on their sight-seeing trip which meant he had a small window of opportunity in which to sneak off down the tunnel before Ygrash came down the hole with all the subtlety of a bush fire and ruined the element of surprise, drawing the two elves back to delay them while the draconian unveiled his dastardly plans for the bloodstone. No thanks. Phelix stood up and walked silently towards the metal bridge and the tunnel beyond it, wondering which of two possible outcomes Sod's Law would use to foil him. Would Farathir's trained ranger ears pick up his footsteps despite his equally well trained stealth, or would a certain dragon caster burst in chucking fire and lightning about the room and generally bringing them to everyone's hostile attention? The sad thing was he just knew the forces-that-be would send some sort of irritating coincidence his way to make things harder, the only uncertainty was if he would still get to Kyarra in time afterwards. Edited by Teddy Slayer, 30 Apr 2009, 23:00.



Hydro14	1 May 2009, 21:46 Post #19
Fanatical Roleplayer Posts: 130 Group: Mentor Member #8 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Overworld Ygrash The magician knelt by the side of the crevasse, his left hand firmly grasping one of the roots of the giant tree. He was not prepared to place his trust in the earth beneath his feet, the soil around the hole was still a moist brown, the cavity clearly hadn’t been there very long. “I’ll go last,” the dragon caster announced, “I’m the one who can glide down if the rope breaks.” At last, the cord went slack, signalling to those above the earth that Phelix was once more on solid ground. Ygrash took a step back and nodded to Mina, “You next.” He prompted. As the girl took a grip on the rope and carefully climbed down into the hollow, the sorcerer seriously hoped he’d imagined the general lack of confidence in her demeanour, the last thing they needed was her landing flat as a pancake on the cavern floor. He rather doubted that the sight of her sister’s mangled corpse would do much to endear them to Kyarra. The dragon caster placed a steadying hand on the rope where it passed over the edge of the ravine and into the cavern below, then after a moment’s hesitation spoke without averting his eyes from the pit. “Grashnir?” After a few brief moments he heard a heavy footstep behind him and the reptile’s colossal snout appeared in the left side of his vision. “If you’re going to tell me to sit this one out, save your breath.” The dragon advised, “I’ll find a way to get in there somehow.” Ygrash nodded thoughtfully, “You’re our plan B,” he said solemnly, “I want you to fly into the volcano through the crater, the fumes shouldn’t give you any trouble. If it looks like we’re not going to make it to the caldera in time, you know what to do.” Out of the corner of his eye Ygrash saw the look on his friend’s face become thoughtful, then disbelieving, until finally the dragon’s visage retreat in disgust. “Ygrash, don’t ask this of me!” he snapped. The dragon caster sighed and then spoke in a cold tone; he hated himself for making this decision, but hated himself even more for then passing the terrible duty on to someone else. “Grashnir, this is bigger than any one person’s life,” he stated sadly, “the consequences if the gates are opened are more dire that we could imagine. Any one of us would rather die than become an accessory to the devastation the draconian will wreak upon this world. “But you have not the right to make that decision for another.” The dragon hissed venomously. For a time silence reigned, then the reptile spoke again, his words cutting through Ygrash like a knife. “Say what it is you ask of me.” “You know what I ask.” The dragon caster hedged. “But I want you to say it.” Grashnir answered, “I want you to be sure you know what you ask, and check you’re able to say it in plain terms without concealing the heart of the matter behind vague hints and suggestions.” Ygrash exhaled slowly. They were only words, but they were words that could end a life and he found his hands shaking as if he were about to do the deed himself. He had taken life before, but only of those who he was sure deserved it, and he had never done it with a word before. “Wait as long as you can,” he began, “but if we don’t get there in time…” he paused a moment, his skin was crawling and a thousand voices in his head all screamed the terrible accusation at him: ‘murderer!’ but somewhere under it all he knew that he was making a necessary decision and, taking a deep breath he continued. “If we don’t get there in time, I want you to kill Kyarra.” Sometimes a terrible atrocity makes the world stand in silence, as if the gods themselves were appalled. To the senses of the dragon caster it was so as the words left his lips. The rope had long gone slack once more, waiting for another to descend into the darkness, but it went unnoticed. At length the dragon nodded and spread his wings. “It shall be so.” He answered, “But I would take great care of the path you walk, Ygrash, for there is something dark within you, and if you walk in shadows too thick I might not be able to follow.” Ygrash bowed his head, shame and disgust raising bile in his throat that forced him to breathe deeply lest it overwhelm him. “A necessary evil.” He whispered to the wind, alone in the clearing. The last thought that crossed his mind as he grasped the rope and set about lowering himself into the chasm was a concern that Phelix might be right about him: perhaps he was too inexperienced to take on an endeavour such as this. Then he mentally reprimanded himself, recalling that he had once read that heroes were not born, but forged in the twin fires of adversity and hardship. Whatever the case it no longer mattered, there was no-one else, he would triumph or the world would fall. Mina Mina felt her stomach lurch as she fell the first few feet into the pit before the rope went taut. Her blood pounded in her ears and for a while she just hung there, clinging tightly to the rope that was both her lifeline and her dread. ’come on,’ she told herself sternly, ’If Phelix can do it then so can you.’ She forced herself to breathe slowly and gripped the rope between her feet to take some of the strain off her arms, then set about climbing down, using both hands. Mina never took her eyes off the rope in her hands, afraid that if she looked down to see how much further she had to go she would never find the courage to continue, however she was also afraid of seeing Phelix looking up at her with a ‘well hurry up then,’ expression printed on his face. Biting her lip in determination, she continued downwards, slightly faster now, goaded on by the mental image of Phelix’ mocking smile. Abruptly, Mina came to a halt. The free hanging end of the rope was about level with her thighs, but stretching out her feet she still couldn’t feel the ground. Alarmed, she looked down and found that she was still about five feet off the floor of the cavern. She realised that she was going to have to drop down to the ground, it didn’t look like very far, but it was still far enough to be painful if she didn’t land well. After checking the distance once more, Mina lowered herself on the rope as far as she could, and then let go. Fire lanced up her leg, reminding her oddly of the time that she’d been shot. She’d landed awkwardly on a bit of rubble that must’ve fallen from the roof when the hole opened up, and her foot had gone sideways. Falling to her knees, she scraped her elbow against the loose rocks and managed not to cry out, but a gasp of pain still threatened to escape her, and probably would have done had it not been prevented by a foul tasting leather glove that was forced across her mouth, which, by reflex action, she bit into. “Quiet.” Phelix whispered as Mina glanced at him questioningly, and as he removed his hand, she followed his uneasy gaze towards the nearest tunnel and guessed that there must be one or more of their enemies waiting there and that he had so far failed to notice them. Wordlessly, she nodded and drew her dagger, limping over to stand by the bridge across the lava, checking that it was indeed safe to use so that there was one less thing for Ygrash to do once he joined them. Mina watched as first Kristin and then the dragon caster joined them, noticing that the latter was somewhat distracted and avoided meeting her gaze as he took in the scene around them. All this, however, fled from her mind as the magician failed to notice how the rest of the team were carefully being silent. “Let’s go then.” He said loudly. Out of the corner of her eye, Mina saw Phelix cringe and facepalm, and was inclined to follow suit. Kyarra Lost in her thoughts, Kyarra barely noticed the air growing warmer as the passageway twisted and turned. Moving at a brisk pace, it took a while for Dominique to catch up and so she was given ample time to consider Flame’s decision. She felt betrayed, the elf knew what it felt like to lose a lover and yet he was still prepared to put her through the same hellish experience. It all seemed so unjust, it was only a few days since she’d found the man she felt she’d been waiting for her whole life and already she was losing him. There had to be another way to buy the time they needed to destroy the stone, and at far less severe a cost, but they hadn’t even discussed any alternatives. Flame had offered to stand his ground, and everyone had just accepted it. She knew deep down that there hadn’t been time; if they had stopped to come up with a plan the dragon riders would be upon them, but another part of her didn’t want to hear excuses, the fact that Flame’s decision made sense made it all the more unbearable. He wasn’t going to die. She had to hold onto that belief, it was all that kept her going now, that and the hope that once this was all over she would see her sister again. Flame was going to live, they were going to go and rescue Mina, and then they were all going to go and live in the city of the elves. She wondered briefly what Hydro was going to do after the stone was destroyed; he’d gone very quiet while she and Flame had been discussing plans for what to do once the journey was finished, but then the draconian had never exactly been extrovert during their travels. Kyarra flinched as Dominique touched her shoulder, the action taking her by surprise as she hadn’t heard his footsteps behind her. She realised that the draconian must have dropped some distance back for there was no sign of him. As the aeromancer began to speak, Kyarra noticed something different about him. Of his recognisable, light hearted aloof attitude there was no sign and in his eyes there was instead an iron resolution that was actually slightly scary and would have made her recoil were it not for the grip he had on her shoulders. She had hoped that all the mistrust and suspicion would have abated by this point, but Dominique’s speech served to rekindle all the doubts that she had once felt about Hydro. Flame had said that Amtear’s journal had never mentioned the reptile, but the draconian claimed to have been with the hydromancer since the start of his journey. What kind of person would spend 300 years of their life waiting in a temple on the off chance that a descendant of the great magician would at some point drop in? What did she actually know about the reptile, he had hardly told them anything? Certainly the draconian’s story was far from flawless, but then so was everyone else’s. Flame and Farathir had fought against them at first, and Dominique had been spying on them from the bushes, apparently searching for dragons. All of them had their secrets, and sooner or later she was going to have to choose one of them to trust. Kyarra wasn’t sure what to say, but at that moment the last person she wanted to see walked around the corner. “Is something wrong?” Hydro asked. “Uh, no,” Kyarra replied, flustered and rubbing her arms which Dominique had hastily released, noticing a few bruises as she did so, “it’s nothing.” The draconian paused a moment, and Kyarra noticed his eyes tracking her awkward body language, realising in a moment that he didn’t believe her, but then she didn’t exactly trust him either, and trust tended to be a two part exchange. Finally he nodded, “Then let’s keep moving.” Underworld Ycalrin The crownguard captain was restless, he still didn’t understand why all this was happening. The note Hydro had left in the drawer, the hastily written prophecy about a saviour from another world, the increased crownguard presence at the temple, none of it made sense. Ycalrin counted himself as quite an intelligent demon, but he felt like he was caught in a battle of wits against the person who wrote the rulebook and there were far too many pieces missing from his copy of the puzzle for him to have any idea what the big picture was meant to look like. “Ycalrin, will you please stop pacing, you’re giving me a headache.” The blademaster had barely noticed that he had been walking back and forth in front of the alcove where the gate was meant to open until Sherentyr mentioned it. He and Dereyith were leaning against one of the pillars, their demeanour making it clear that they were as bewildered by the events of the past few weeks as he was, and just like him their confusion had turned to frustration. The three blademasters had long ago been robbed of the luxury of simply being able to obey and not to question when Hydro had taken them into his confidence concerning an operation to investigate possible connections between the rebels and a select group of senators. It was this event that had driven Ansarii and her supporters underground. The draconian emperor in question was currently sitting on the altar and sharpening his sword. Seeking something to take his mind off the impossible task of getting to the bottom of the mystery, the demon’s gaze fell on Kyarra, sitting at the foot of one of the columns, the bloodstone in her hands. Tyrn was checking the walls for anything that might be used by their foes as a projectile or a close range weapon, and was also examining the roof supports in case their enemies might try to bring the building down on them. Ycalrin had to admit, the slave had a keen eye and a solid understanding of tactics, even if his brazen attitude got a little wearing. The blademaster leaned against the pillar Kyarra was seated at the base of and slowly slid down into a sitting position himself, the human didn’t seem to notice. “What’s on your mind?” he inquired of her. “I was just thinking of home.” Kyarra answered, tracing one of the edges of the bloodstone with her third finger. Ycalrin’s wing accidentally brushed against her arm and the demon felt her recoil from it, he couldn’t blame her. He knew exactly how long she’d been in the foundry, he had been the one who’d delivered her to it after all, and from the state she’d been in when they picked her up it had been four days of hell. As he considered, her, Kyarra reached over her shoulder to scratch one of the almost healed whip scars that latticed her back. More to ease his own sense of guilt than anything else, he pursued the last topic of conversation. “What’s it like?” he asked, “Your home?” The demon listened as the human related to him a story of a blissful paradise where plants grew without aid of magic, where the land was divided by great masses of water called oceans, and where the sky was blue instead of red and grey. At last she fell silent, leaving Ycalrin with only the images that she had painted in his mind. “It sounds good.” He answered wistfully, “Do you think you’ll go back there after this business is concluded?” “I hope so.” Kyarra replied, and for a while there was silence once more as human and demon sat side by side. “It sounds like a place worth fighting to get back to.” Ycalrin suggested. “Yes.” Kyarra agreed. “Hmm.” Ycalrin thoughtfully got to his feet once more, flexing the cramps out of his wings, resolving to speak his mind plainly. “I hope you get back to your world, Kyarra,” he said, “this world has seen too much of hate and anger and I fear it will never know peace. It is no place for someone like you.” Leaving Kyarra with a perplexed look on her face as she tried to work out if she’d just been cryptically complimented or been the recipient of a veiled insult, Ycalrin made his way across to Dereyith and Sherentyr to talk about tactics for the upcoming battle. Edited by Hydro14, 2 May 2009, 07:18.
	My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe.


Quixium56	2 May 2009, 21:49 Post #20
Quix Cheese Stix Posts: 66 Group: Developer Member #15 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Kristin watched quietly as both Phelix, and subsequently Mina disappeared down the hole; and taking a quick glance at Ygrash as he called to Grishnir, she jumped and attached herself to the rope too. However, dismally, she had mistimed her jump, and although the rope was now firmly in her grasp; the edge of her cloak had managed to successfully wrap itself around a tree root at the top of the hole; and she had to hold onto the rope with both her legs, and one hand while she tried to unlatch the cloak with the other – quite unceremoniously. In the concurrent struggle, she overheard part of Ygrash’s conversation with the dragon, most of it incoherently, but enough to hear: ”Ygrash, Don’t ask this of me!” The curiousity in her head boiled slightly, and she hung onto the rope, holding still, attempting to eavesdrop some more; but as the fates would have it, the cloak came free as the weight now poised on it was vibrating, trying to keep still; and Kristin had to act quickly to hold onto the rope with her legs, and regain her balance in time to jump with enough speed to roll and land quietly. Noticing the stealth in the other two, she crept towards them, Grishnir’s words burned in her head; what was going on? But there was a time and a place; and although this was the time; it certainly wasn’t the place – not with Flame with his back turned to them; she couldn’t help but grin at the predicament. Someone was on their side after all. However. It was at this point Ygrash ruined their delightful moment by opening his mouth, the grin that dawned her face quickly undawned itself. When life gives you lemons, you’re not supposed to throw them back. Dominique allowed the Draconian to walk past, noting the complete ignorance the reptile had given him, he didn’t even consider him as if he’d already made up his mind. Dominique watched him walk away with a dangerous frown on his face; what did this mean? Was Hydro aware of what he’d just tried to do? The exchange of distrust that he quickly witnessed between him and Kyarra was unsettling, but would the draconian correctly anticipate what he had just tried to do? He looked at Kyarra before he turned to walk, the only difference was that this gaze wasn’t one of a light cheery and careless man; it was of seriousness – the only emotion he could afford to show now, to avoid influence, was indifference. He followed Hydro down the long earthen corridor silently; noting in particular how his heartbeat had become faster for the first time in a long time.
	"A Lion On His Side, Was It The Lying Or His Pride That Brought Him Down?"


Lord Synical	6 May 2009, 10:25 Post #21
Site Douchebag -//- Official Badass Posts: 162 Group: Admins Member #6 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Farathir's ears twitched, just slightly, causing him to spin around and stare quite intently to the figure of Kristin staring right back. A feral snarl escaped his lips and two arrows were loosed nigh immediately, the ranger already drawing two more as he calculated like lightning. That's the girl I detected the magical hints from, which means the pineapple eater will be close behind. That Dragon caster must be with them too, which means flame and I are horribly outnumbered... however, he has been preparing that little suprise of his... hrm, we just might be able to hold them off long enough for Kyarra to do what she must... yet I don't understand why they would want to stop us, they don't look like your stereotypical supervillains... Flameweaver's eyes snapped open at Farathir's snarl, the pyromancer's mind racing with magical calculations whilst he was preparing his little 'surprise'. Holding steady at a hover about four feet from the hard ground, magical energy radiating from him in waves. He was nearly at his limit, calling every inch, every scrap of his power for an attack that would make or break their entire quest - an attack that only had one shot, one chance to give Kyarra and Hydro the time they needed to destroy the misbegotten stone. Kyarra... Her name was like a trigger and he spun in the air, eyes widening as he pushed his hands forth. From his palms, a phoenix, one smaller that Phawkes and white, as all the elf's spells were; erupted forth with a screeching battlecry, soaring towards where Kristin and her companions stood, a surging wave of white flames following the mythical bird in a torrent that filled the corridor. It was a blind attack, a brute force move that simply destroyed everything in its path - it also made Flameweaver absolutely useless, unable to cast more than the most basic spells. However, he still had his greatsword, if only a little bit of energy to use it with. OOC: Fucking terribad post is terribad. But I have no creativity. Period. I'm empty atm.
	Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.


Teddy Slayer	11 May 2009, 15:46 Post #22
Terry Slayer Posts: 18 Group: Premium Member Member #24 Joined: Dec 26, 2008	Going back to help Mina was a decision of Phelix's that would take him quite a few days to find out if he'd made the right choice or not. The girl had clearly been struggling on the way down from the crack in the ceiling high above, but to her credit she had made it to the end of the rope without any assistance. Now all that was between her and the ground was a short drop (though admittedly what he would consider a short fall was probably not so small in her view) and it looked like she was considering carefully how best to make it down, which was a good sign. Come on it's only a couple of metres, bend those knees, slap the ground with your palms... Oh. Oh dear. Alright I can accept having allies who aren't as agile as myself but do I have to get ones that suck this bad? As a result of what was possibly the worst landing Phelix had ever seen, Mina's ankle had wobbled into a very uncomfortable looking angle and she'd collapsed, and here came the dilemma: run to the caldera before anyone notices, or stop Mina from letting out a girly scream and stay with the team? It didn't seem like a hard choice at the time; after all stopping Hydro would be far easier with the whole group there instead of just himself, so with this in mind he hastily walked back to her and covered her mouth before she could cry out and attract the unwanted attention of a certain pyro. Ok, so despite the slightly botched insertion they still hadn't been compromised, and while he'd been examining the fresh teeth marks on his glove Kristin had made it down with no problems which just left Ygrash. Now, surely a grown man with enough brain power to grow himself a new pair of eyes using magic could climb down a rope safely and quietly? And whaddyaknow, he's done it. Hurrah. So now- "Let's go then." Words could not describe the pure failure, but hopefully a facepalm would suffice. Needless to say Phelix's opinion of Ygrash had suddenly plummeted from 'He's an ok guy' to somewhere between 'rookie' and 'dumbass'. Really now, the concept of staying quiet when sneaking into a room that was potentially full of bad guys was not a well kept trade secret of the master ninjas, it was more like common sense, but apparently even that was beyond the dragon caster's comprehension. Now the decision between staying with the group and going solo was swinging considerably in favour of the latter but with Kristin being the closest member of the team to Flame's tunnel it was too late to go back on that decision now. You see, this is where 'know your enemy', yeah that old gem of wisdom, comes in rather handy. Had Phelix had any care for money, or actually owned any, he would have wasted no time in throwing down a wager that the first thing they would see from the enemy duo in the tunnel would be a pair of arrows, however fortunately for Kristin he instead dashed towards her before anyone else knew the attack was coming and arrived at her side just in time to have the arrows pierce into the hard ice on his shield rather than her poor squidgy self. The next projectile to come hurtling out of the tunnel however was a little more worrying. Sure it was predictable (trust Flame to take the logic 'use a fireball, and if that don't work use more fireball' to the extreme) but it was also a little more powerful than expected. Dodging it was a possibility in the wide cavern they were in but somehow he didn't think Mina would be fast enough to get out of the way, especially after killing her ankle, so for the millionth time in less than a week it looked like he was stuck looking after her again. With a faint sigh, almost completely inaudible over the sound of the roaring flames, he raised a glowing light-blue hand and waved it quickly through the air in front of the group as a trail of ice formed in front of him. The frozen trail followed his fingers, forming only centimetres away from them in the air, and left an arrowhead-shaped formation of ice between himself and the burning white phoenix. The idea was to redirect at least some of the flames down the sides of the wedge and away from the group, but it was obvious that when the attack collided with the tip of the ice it would simply melt through the blockage before even half of the fire had been forced along a different path. On the bright side, with Ygrash helping out this shouldn't be a problem. Phelix turned to the dragon caster for help with the team's defense but neglected to put in any effort of being polite. After all if it wasn't for his stupidity there wouldn't be a giant flaming bird shooting towards them in the first place. "Well this ice ain't gonna stop it so I hope you've got something good up your sleeve. I'm assuming dragon casters can do something for fire resistance." 'Cause, you know. Dragons are fire resistant after all. Edited by Teddy Slayer, 11 May 2009, 15:50.



Hydro14	11 May 2009, 20:05 Post #23
Fanatical Roleplayer Posts: 130 Group: Mentor Member #8 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Ygrash The dragon caster looked somewhat bemused by the way the faces of all his companions proclaimed in silent unison that he had just performed a feat of iconic idiocy. All of a sudden, the song of a bowstring rang out from somewhere to his right and Ygrash turned to see a pair of arrows hurtling towards Kristin. At once realising his error, the dragon caster raised his hand, now wreathed in flames, ready to burn them out of the air, however Phelix was already on the case, darting in front of the support mage to block the projectiles with his ice shield. Utilising the momentary respite to best effect, the dragon caster knelt down beside Mina and lightly touched her ankle, healing the damage and helping her back to her feet. It wouldn’t be a good idea, he reasoned, to leave an ally suffering from reduced agility so early in a battle where avoiding attacks was going to be far more effective than blocking them. That said, why was Phelix trying to stand his ground against- GREAT DRAGONS THAT’S A BIG FIREBALL!!! Ygrash considered yelling at the cryomancer to get his head on straight, stop being an idiot and just get out the bloody way of the blistering inferno, but knowing Phelix he would probably just argue the point while both he and Kristin were immolated. Not good. So, beckoning to Mina to stay close to him, the dragon caster took up position behind the ice shield. “Stay by me,” he instructed, “this spell has a limited range.” Ygrash locked his crimson reptilian oculars on the head of the fiery bird racing towards them, muttering some incomprehensible words under his breath, barely moving as the projectile bore down upon them. “Ygrash, don’t you think it’s time to move now?” There was a faint tremor in Mina’s voice, the dragon caster really hoped that didn’t mean she was about to break ranks and leave the area of his spell because he couldn’t break off the incantation to warn her or they were all dead. At the last moment, Ygrash placed his palm against the ground and a hemisphere of grey light expanded to cover them, then faded away almost at once, and the phoenix was still racing towards them. The dragon caster drew himself up to his full height once more and stood calmly as the flames enveloped first him, then the others. They were not burned. The flames licked against their skin with almost soothing warmth, then passed them by, smashing with full force into the opposite side of the cavern. Ygrash breathed a sigh of relief, “Stone dragon’s indomitable aura. I’m glad that spell worked this time.” He grinned, then his voice took a more serious tone as he spoke more quietly, “Everyone, head towards the tunnel leading to the caldera, it only takes one of us to stall for time here.” “Um, Ygrash?” The dragon caster ignored Mina, turning his attention on his opponents. “Flameweaver, Farathir, I have no wish to fight you but the fate of the world depends on us reaching the caldera, and we don’t have time to argue the point with you.” He fell silent, awaiting a response from either of the elves, but it was Mina who broke the silence. “Ygrash, the fireball collapsed the tunnel!” The dragon caster cast a brief glance over his shoulder, loath to remove his concentration from his foes for even a moment, and saw that she was correct. A large pile of boulders had fallen from a rock overhang above the tunnel opening, effectively sealing it off at least until they could give it their full attention. Ygrash gave a snort of disgust, it was as if every force in the world was conspiring to get in their way. Overcome with frustration he turned his gaze back upon the elves. “Let’s deal with this quickly then.” He suggested, conjuring once more his staff of lightning and charging towards Farathir. Hydro It was almost done. The final act, the last scene before the curtain. The relief that flooded through the draconian as the tunnel opened out a final time onto the blistering heat of the caldera was indescribable. It was as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. This whole sorry business was about to be concluded. In a few moments he could remove the mask he had worn for over a century, cease his performance, and leave the stage. Great gusts of smoke billowed from a massive pit in the centre of the chamber, concealing the far side from view. The ledge on which they were standing overlooked this great furnace of the gods, stretching only a short distance away to the right before it was blocked by a rockslide, however to the left the pathway snaked around crevasses and overhangs until it encircled a quarter of the caldera. “We made it,” Hydro declared triumphantly, “journey’s end.” He turned to see Kyarra struggling out of the tunnel, shielding her face with one arm and coughing in the smoke. “It’s like an oven in here.” She complained. “We won’t be long.” The draconian promised, offering her a hand and using his right wing to keep the worst of the heat off her. “Right,” she answered, “I’ll just throw it in there and be done with it.” “Wait,” Hydro steeled himself and readied his will for the final stage of his plan, “there is an incantation that must be spoken before you cast the stone into the fire, to weaken its magical defences. Amtear managed to work out what the incantation was before he died. I will speak each line and you must repeat it after me, only then can the stone be destroyed.” “An incantation?” All of a sudden Kyarra’s demeanour changed, she pulled away from him and glanced over her shoulder towards Dominique, before demanding in a harsher tone, “Why didn’t you say anything about this before?” Hydro frowned and donned his finest mask of confusion. “I thought it an irrelevant detail.” He answered levelly, “Why, is something wrong?” Again she glanced at Dominique and this time Hydro followed her gaze. ‘Curse me for a misbegotten fool!’ Hydro raged inwardly, being sure not to let any of his frustration surface in his scaled visage, ‘Why didn’t I see this before and persuade him to stay with Flame? He knows! It doesn’t matter now how, but he knows!’ So there would be one final stanza to this piece would there? Fate would have him fight for the future of his people. Very well then, fight he would. “Kyarra, I do not know what he has told you,” he began, “but I can make an educated guess. I can’t say I blame you for being sceptical, it is both wise and proper for one on whom so much depends, and I, a draconian, am perhaps least worthy of the trust of a human in the eyes of this world.” He turned his gaze upon Dominique and fixed him with a piercing glare. “How much were you offered?” he demanded, “How much to deliver the bloodstone and the only one who can safely touch it? Where were you when we broke into the cultist headquarters at Rivergate, was there even a trap for us on the second floor or did you make that up to make sure we didn’t walk in on your meeting with you employers? Did you really think-” he paused a moment, a cleverly crafted spark of inspiration crossing his gaze, “The dragon riders, they were in the city as well weren’t they? Was it them you met with? Even now they struggle with Flame and Farathir beneath and you would buy them the time they need to get up here and overpower us too? Is that it? Why, Dominique, why? After we saved your life back in the wyvern’s nest, this is how you thank us?” Out of the corner of his eye, Hydro saw Kyarra take a step closer to him, rounding with suspicion now on Dominique. “Is this true?” she demanded in faltering tones. Hydro allowed a faint grin to slip across the side of his jaw that was blocking from Kyarra’s view by his snout, hoping to goad the telekineticist into a rage from which he would be unable to argue coherently.
	My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe.


Lord Synical	11 May 2009, 22:25 Post #24
Site Douchebag -//- Official Badass Posts: 162 Group: Admins Member #6 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	From the blackness, there was only silence as the two elves paused to listen to Ygrash's words, Flameweaver glancing at his older and considerably wiser companion curiously, "Fate of the world?" He asked skeptically, hsi tone telling of a sense of doubt mingled with curiosity. He turned and yelled "What do you--" just as Ygrash's lightning staff lit up the darkness of the void and the Dragon Caster hurtled towards them. Panic stricken, Flameweaver tore his greatsword from its sheath and leapt forwards to meet his foe's charge with an arcing defensive slash of his own, slamming the white metal of the sword into Ygrash's energy staff as blue fire erupted around the blade. "Coward! Yell at us and then charge, very fucking clever." He leapt backwards and re-affirmed his grip on the sword, watching carefully for Ygrash's next move. Already a little tired, Flameweaver knew he could only stall the other man at best; killing him wasn't a possibility in his condition. Evaluating his situation made the pyromancer reflect on exactly how boned they truly were. Four enemies, no magic and a whole lot of strength gone. Well, he thought at least we'll go out fighting. Setting his stance, the Elf nodded to Farathir just as the ranger slipped into the blackness, flame's lips parting to release a battlecry to the elven god of war before he charged forwards to make his final stand. Farathir had never been one for theatrics, but having journeyed with Flameweaver he had come to accept them as part of life - but this was just ridiculous. When Ygrash charged towards him, he barely had time to blink before his friend was there, greatsword on lightning in a thundering clash of magic on magical metal. With a thinning of the lips as the only sign of displeasure exhibited, Farathir caught his friend's nod and vanished into the blackness he had been so astranged from for so long in his life. Here, in the nothingness of the void, he was home - truly home. Turning his lavender eyes towards Phelix, Mina and Kristin a sadistic purr rippled from his throat, followed closely by the appearance of two ruby cat eyes and a feral growl. Silently raising his bow and knocking one arrow, Farathir murmured a silent command and Demon vanished, leaving to the astral plane to reform near the other three, out of sight until his transformation was complete. The Ranger on the other hand had a different tactic in mind as he tapped into his innate Drow magic and deepened the darkness around him. Raising his bow he fired a single arrow from the blackness, then used his speed and leaped to another point of the cavern to send forth a second projecticle barely a second later from another area, already moving to the next to fire another one. Instead of reversing this into a predictible pattern, he randomized his movements. Making random surges in his leap distances as well as random reductions, darkening as he went to pitch blackness. As he did this, buying time really, Demon formed completely and darted from behind the rockwall, snarling its kitty snarl and leaping straight for Phelix' unshielded arm; not opening its jaw fully until it was certain it could take a hold - it wouldn't risk a dagger to an open mouth. Edited by Lord Synical, 11 May 2009, 22:26.
	Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.


Quixium56	17 May 2009, 15:50 Post #25
Quix Cheese Stix Posts: 66 Group: Developer Member #15 Joined: Dec 25, 2008	Kristin had been first to receive two arrows hurtling towards her, and save for Phelix’s logic, would have been missing both eyes knowing Farathir; of course, as always he was on time – or even early this time – and the arrows that had once been patriots to blindness, hit the shield and deflected. “Cheers Phelix,” she called, over the sound of the bubbling magma from the crevice behind them; but that wasn’t the only super-heated element in the room, because rushing towards them was a huge white hot phoenix cast by yours truly: Flame. Phelix was quick to react; he had tapped into his cryomancy in an attempt to stop the flames, and for once, she realised she had completely underestimated his powers – she wasn’t helping and yet the freezing barrier was working, she had a large apology to give to him after all this was done. But it wouldn’t be done for a while, not now Flame had managed to collapse the passage. Running towards the collapsed tunnel, she began shifting rocks, all the whilst Mina was attempting to alert Ygrash; but it was useless, there were too many for one person to shift quickly – standing back up, she stood across from the others on the other side of the chasm. Ygrash had begun battle with Flame, and although she could as easily click her finger and increase his energy levels; she couldn’t risk being inaccurate and supercharging Flame back to supernova levels. On the same token, Farathir was being inaccurate, and his drow abilities couldn’t be messed with, not within her intellect anyway; however there was one thing she was ready for… The demon kitty sprung from the darkness from behind Phelix, ready to latch onto his arm with it’s jaws – but if not for Kristin’s intervention it’s plan might of succeeded – snapping her fingers dangerously, she targeted the air around the creature, amplifying the entropy enough to distort it’s course – it didn’t lose it’s momentum however, and would unfortunately still collide with Phelix if it wasn’t stopped, only just without the jaws pointing forwards. It was a don’t pass go, don’t collect 20 pounds situation. Dominique’s nostrils flared, and his fists clenched; anger seeped through his bloodstream and rage tore down all patience he’d absolved. Hydro’s words burnt with sheer injustice, the lies building a web that slowly bonded stronger and stronger, suffocating any chance of escape – everything fit exactly like Hydro said, even if they were lies; he was missing in Rivergate, infact, he had come across Phelix who had almost killed him, to save the least; but the plea for money was just unjust. A brief silence followed the faltered tones of Kyarra; the tone of the voice struck a chord inside him, it meant she had trusted him at some point; and this gave him strength to speak – but what he had to hold down was the anger, he had to do anything now to stop that devious bastard; now that he knew he was lying, now that he knew that Hydro was a fraud after all. “If that stone doesn’t get destroyed the world ends, right?” He reasoned his tone emotionless and his visage determined, “So what use would fortunes be if we all would die anyway?” He pulled out a small spherical wallet out of his cloak and shook is ostentatiously so the clinking of coins was echoed around the caldera, before flinging it to one side, so that it flew straight out of view and into the flames of the volcano below; “Money,” he stated, “means NOTHING to me!” he allowed some of his anger to vent, shaking his fist and glowing dangerous shade of teal, “I don’t know what your reasons are Hydro, but from these lies you’re spewing – it’s enough evidence to prove you don’t want to destroy the stone! Those statues outside the entrance to his volcanic lair; one of them was you, am I right?” he gave a small grin, thanking himself for thinking that one up in time; but what he planned to do next would test him to every limit. Unsheathing the long sword from his scabbard through telekinesis, he positioned it pointing directly at himself, floating directly where his heart should be. And he swallowed, his life wasn’t as important as stopping the end of the world, because as soon as those gates opened, it would be too late. “Kyarra, if I have to do this to show you how loyal I am; then I will – because your mission is more important then my life.” He bowed his head held the sword in place; I can? he asked himself privately, I can, can’t I?
	"A Lion On His Side, Was It The Lying Or His Pride That Brought Him Down?"


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