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| Fraying of Tied Ends; Staff Only - Plot Exposition | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 5 2014, 09:51 AM (1,532 Views) | |
| Nimirra | Jan 5 2014, 09:51 AM Post #1 |
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Meathods of Madness
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Winter was settling her talons into the earth, digging those icy claws deep so even the furthest reaching roots would feel her frosty presence across the mainland. While snows powdered the wide plains of central Sekkai and freezes withered the northern trees shed bare of their green foliage, the island nestled in the temperate ecosystems of its own merit rested within warmer waters. Uncharted on maps by all but the most adventurous and well-traveled of seamen, the isle once apart of the Forgotten Isles had drifted from its former family, carried off by the shifting of tectonic plates plunged below the vast ocean. None had attempted to dock and explore the unforgiving place, its land comprised of an uninviting cluster of mountains that once had been ruthless volcanos that now slumbered with eerie disquiet, deterring the common merchant ships. Ice caps upon the crest of each peak from the higher altitude was the only semblance of seasonal display the island offered to the arriving party of bipeds. The rest of the environment was naught but ashen earth and greying mountainside, devoid of any flora to add richness to the harsh, monochromatic terrain. Even the midday sky was curtained behind a slate pigment of expansive cloud cover, masking pigments that would otherwise soften the atmosphere. The congregated Qih-nzak had made their way to the center of the encaging mountains. Passes narrow and riddled with jagged outcrops of rock eventually gave way to the island’s heart, a flat summit of smoothed, fossilized earth purposely molded by the ancient beings. At the far northern point of the slightly raised terrace, a curiously fashioned pike of feldspar, seemingly errant but upon closer inspection obviously chiseled with purpose. The tapering center, if studied, would appear to have potential for a double-handed grip for larger palms. It was here the massive Earth Qhek of the group took up vigil, settling his grasp where the jutting stone silently coaxed. Maahes’ deeply set eyes surveyed the skies unblinkingly, vaguely felid-influenced maw set in a neutral expression of guarded patience. Wisps of his long fibrous mane peaking between the craggy ridges of his nape plating fluttered lightly on the breeze, but his muscles sealed into place until their awaited company appeared on the horizon. Minutes crept by, any movement from his kin seemingly escaping his immediate notice as his gaze rested keenly on the gray haven for those gifted with the ability of flight. Abruptly, his gravelly voice likened to the yawning chasms of the earth rumbled from his barrel chest, “There. They’ve come.” |
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| Nherva | Jan 5 2014, 10:26 AM Post #2 |
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Lurker Queen
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It wasn't so much word that had come to them of a problem, rather than no word at all. It had been a collective effort between the Qih-nzak and the Sekkaian forces to keep vigil over this remote, but specialized location. She had not gone with the first wave of hybrids to Sekkai's halls near the end of the great War, but rather stayed within her racial homeland. She had not been part of the great battle with titanic alchemical beasts laying waste to the Tainted Legion in the Loth Angresan mountains. Effectively, she'd not even existed...until now. Incompetence brought her here, brought her kin here. If there was something that needed correcting, she felt at this point it was part of her job to do so, since something had obviously gone wrong. Huge clawed feet made powerful strides across the expanse toward the familiar Earth hybrid that waited with a few others. A vaguely feline facial structure, framed by thick, curling horns and multitudes of braids of coarse hair told the others of a relation to the Earth standing in wait. Sharp, golden eyes assessed the scene before her as she stopped, her set of wickedly curved toe claws clicking on the ground. She wanted to be on it already, not waiting for more potential incompetence. But common courtesy and political etiquette--two things that weren't necessarily in her immediate skillset--bade her wait. The female Qih-nzak came to stand near Maahes, the regal form of her felid face as she looked out upon the forms en route to their position making her seem perhaps more judgmental. If that was possible. "It's about time," Sekhmet growled, a voice not so feminine as one might expect emanating from her throat. The Qhek shifted her weight impatiently from one large clawed foot to the other. "Judging by the urgency of what I heard I'd say they're late." Sekhmet was fully under the assumption that this was the Sekkaian's deal and her kin were only there to oversee. Being loose allies with Sekkai dictated that a few of them at least should show up and see if they could help with the situation. Though, if one were to ask her personally, the female Qhek might have thrown her lot in the Tainteds. There was a balance that needed to be preserved, and Nidhogg had tipped it too far in favor of his own side. The hybrids had intervened and he was vanquished, but now...now the Tainted were barely a flicker, their young Queen barely able to hold on to her prospects, let alone the elders who held little to no respect for their new lot in life. For Sekhmet, the balance had shifted too far once more. But her opinions meant little when she wasn't exactly considered one of the brightest minds of her own kind. She glanced up at Maahes, the male Qhek taller and more robust, perhaps just by virtue of his element, and the sharpness in her amber-gold eyes softened. She said nothing, but something like pride flickered across her features before she turned her attention back to the approaching Shadowguarde. She crossed her leanly muscled, scaled arms over her chest, "It begins," she sighed as they landed. It was going to take some time for her to get used to conversing and working with others who were not Qih-nzak. It was time to put her civil face on. |
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| SemperMemor | Jan 5 2014, 04:10 PM Post #3 |
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Majestic Space Duck
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Bare feet palpated the flattened expanse of rubble that served as the gathering reception. Dust reared up as though desperate and expectant of it's loving master's benevolent attention. A film of it gently grasped the sparsely-armored ankles and the hems of the elaborate garb that fell around the Hybrid's lean body. The creature hardly required movement on his part to scan the surroundings as a bat might find prey; powerful magics pulsated beneath him in steady waves to paint a portrait of the infrastructure. Yet...the lack of comforting vibrations reverberating beneath his range of perception had not quieted the racing Qih-nzak's hearts. Something was not right. Green eyes fluttered open with a start. Volumes of thick black tresses blockaded the majority of his visible world as an obsidian curtain. A deft, taloned hand extended to pull the shades aside, allowing him to rest his gaze momentarily upon the figure directly opposite him. Furthest away from their stiff congregation the lone the Lightning Khri nearly moulded into the waxing shadows beneath the looming cliff face. Despite the confidence he exuded for his own craft, the earthen Chre was hesitant to linger in his colleague's presence. His eyes averted toward the snow-capped scenery some leagues away. It was best not to meddle with Mara. "The mountain is as voiceless as the message that came to us," the Chre remarked with urgent tenor. Short even by Qih-nzak standards, the tanned Chre stood, perhaps, the least threatening of his gathered kinsmen. Kintsugi certainly seemed the most out of place amongst his towering kin. Soft, human-like features of painted his face and exposed flesh by a man's standards. He might have slipped completely within the population if it weren't for the blunted talons that graced the extremities of his exposed feet and hands. Though the smallest by mass and stature both, he was still very much a Qih-nzak. The immense magics of his level coursed through his veins in to a much greater magnitude than most in their company. Alchemical prowess predominated his skillset in much the same way that raw strength gave the two Qheks their frightening countenances, and the Khri his unmatched source of intellect. While he might not have been so stricken with impatience on a good day, the Kintsugi was by no means content to wait. Sekhmet's comment set his stomach to a distasteful simmer. He nearly made to hazard a glance toward her, but thought better of it. Bound to a source of distant neutrality was not something that the alchemist found particularly bothersome. Most of the time he just wanted to live out an easier existence than the world had crudely thrust upon him, but now, with the scales of balance so unfavorably against the young queen in the favor of a prideful, arrogant nation, the mere state of absent omniscience could not be allowed; especially so with the complications of matters that had fallen to them on this day. The Qih-nzak tugged the blanched material of his cloak's nape higher to conceal the nervous twitch in his cheek. By the will of the temperate currents, they didn't have to wait much longer. Calculated wingbeats stirred the dust in their windswept haste as the Qheks uttered their distasteful observances. Kintsugi's face upturned at the disturbance, an obligatory distant expression ingrained so habitually quickly muddling what had so upset him a few moments prior. But while he was hardly the most steeled of the group, he did possess some manner of humanoid manners. Clawed hands retracted from the recesses of his garments to unfold in a mudra of benign welcome. "Welcome, Shadowgarde," the Chre called. His features creased in a semblance of empty compliance. |
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| CloakAndDagger | Jan 6 2014, 06:04 PM Post #4 |
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THE DUNGEON MASTER
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It was a breath more than a journey. It was a shot into the air, through the cold, and it felt more like freedom than anything they’d remembered since before the war. Flying was like breathing and, after living stifled upon the earth like mere beasts, the chill of the winter brought them back to life while, below, the world was dying away. Wide, dark wings spread open to carve the descent into an elegant slip and, finally upon the marooned island of stone, the regal creature and the small rider cast themselves into the craigs of the mountain. Neither of the two had the depth of sense that the waiting Qih-nzak possessed, but intuition told them that this was no game. The Air, irritated by the wayward passage to the center, regarded the whole thing with suspicion. Nothing was ever so simple. Nothing was ever so easy. And, starting out as neither, it could only be bound to get worse. There had been no contact. None. Not a word of either ink or wind from within these moody moorings to the outside -- not for months. The deep isolation did things to those who lingered in their reaches, so, ‘out of the ordinary’ was a relative term for people slowly going mad in the inhospitable mountains. This, however, was broken protocol, which was different. It had been too long since both of them had an opportunity to fulfill the needs of their rank, but a meeting with unpredictable demi-gods about a dubious and dangerous idea was a task too far from her liking. There was no upper hand here, for her. She knew that, among these downlooking others, her opinions were whisper and frail notions though she would voice them with fire. It did her no kindness to imagine she had little power here. That was not the point of all this hard work. And if these few of her guards had failed at their task here… There would be little power for anyone. Ionos, reaching the tapering end of the cliff, threw herself and her charge into the air. Having avoided the vicious winds atop the mountain, they cut through the misty chill of the docile mountainside and cleared around. The air rasped through her feathers and the one upon her back drew the scarf farther over her nose. Together, they landed as gentle as a blossom before the sights of the inhumans. The dragoness raised her head up high, inspecting them with a queenly stare she felt she had every right to possess. Her smooth, spiraled crystal flared in the grey half-light. Next to her, the small passenger slid off the mounting saddle and caught earth between her feet. Small and childlike, the young woman pulled down the scarf covering her face and looked on at the growing gathering. Her gaze was dazed and distant. Instinctively, as if to make sure it was there, one half cold-numb hand bumbled over the shadowguard ring on her finger. She said nothing, but she watched. “Well met, Qih-nzak.” Io’s voice edged too near to mistrusting cynicism. She looked among them. One looked nearly human. “I am Ionos and my rider is Kessian. I ask to know your names, or at least how to address you.” The green eyed dragon stood like royalty and flashed an eye to the beastly lightning elemental in the shadows as he moved begrudgingly toward the group. “Save yours.” A hiss crossed her teeth quietly. “I know of you enough.” The hybrid, standing completely covered from head to face, eyed her in cold examination. A sharp bolt of white light jumped between two slits of his metal vocalizer. It hummed a jolting, synthetic buzz. Ionos, closer to the Qih-nzak council, kept her eyes distrustfully on Mara. “I am here for the truth and that is all.” “The truth is what you shall have.” The electric words were ozone in the mountain air. |
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| Nimirra | Jan 7 2014, 03:40 PM Post #5 |
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Meathods of Madness
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The quartet of vibrantly painted wings sliced through the upper atmosphere, helped along by the smaller dove-gray Air that spearheaded the aerial procession and thinned the windy resistance. Elongated decorative flight feathers whipped haplessly in the winter skies, tugged and tossed roughly by the gale’s invisible claws in a contradictory display than their elegant intent as flashy tools to win the attentions and envy of others. Sadly, that was not all that was awry with the former Fang. Normally, the chartreuse dragon would lessen the forces of his element surrounding him, but this was no leisurely flight to carelessly expend precious magical reserves upon. Where they were destined, guards would need to be high and enforced with as much magical and mental fervor as they each could manage. After what seemed like an eon flocking from the capital and over the stretch of endless ocean, the island they sought manifested in the misty haze. If his words were not doomed to be snatched away on the winds, Zeal would have normally attempted to break the tangible tension with a witty quip that would inevitably cause his rider to roll her stormy eyes. Today however, with such resounding silence from scrupulously punctual reports from the island’s watchers, the tension was even knotting the blithest of the Shadowguarde’s ranks. Anxiety knotted his and his rider’s stomachs alike with the ominous venture the day had brought them on, turning butterflies into boulders of iron in their organs. Zeal followed Ionos’ banking maneuvers deftly, feathers fanning and contracting at varied angles to keep pace and path alike. He had followed her into battle before so the ducking and weaving came almost naturally with muscle memory as the trio threaded their way to the mountains paths below. By the time the descent and the journey inland was behind them, a new stirring of trepidation had begun as the fellowship of the nation’s elite approached the mysterious Qih-nzak that gathered upon the raised summit. The Air padded forward with a resolve to hold his tongue, letting Ionos set the stage for their arrival and the ill-omened congregation. The second highest Shadowguarde’s voice rang out like sharp, silvery chimes that somehow managed to instill an authoritative note within, offering greetings and demanding introductions from all present. Save one. The Lightning Khri was made clear that his name, Mara, was familiar and not altogether well received. Zeal sighed when the hybrids gave no instantaneous answer; already mentally exhausted from the strain the day was yielding. “Allow me to start, then, if it’s easier for you all. I am Zeal, and my rider is Vievette.” stated the Air, plumage ruffling against the temperature’s frosty pitch. The exchange was wrought with what was muddled impatience, apprehension, and stiffly infused formality. Maahes waited while his fellow earthen elemental kin and fiery mother introduced themselves, his own pair of amber eyes drinking in the dragon riders and assessing any sign of threat they might offer. A machine of war, the diplomacy and entitlements of democracy upheld by others had long since been stripped of his mental capacity in order to hone his senses, to sharpen his mental blades for the arts of warfare. When the last hybrid had spoken, the monstrous Qhek’s voice rumbled forth, “And I am Maahes, known by some as The Scarlet Lord.” Without further adieu, he pressed to the heart of things, “We all know why we are here. Let us seek out this bespoken sense of truth for ourselves, and lay matters to rest or to ruin.” His massive palms tightened around the pike, making it seem less grandiose than it truly was due to his immense size. A mixture of strength and magic culled the pillar, only allowing his grasp to pull it backwards once it had found the handler’s signature magic source a present and agreeable match, as if scanned by supernatural biometrics. Instantly, the ground below groaned itself awake, the summit itself forming a fissure down its center and slowly shifting apart. The terrace opened like a great maw, yawning from its slumber and trembling what felt could be the very mountainsides surrounding the clearing. Once the jarring entryway had unveiled itself, the beastly floor fell silent again, leaving the winding stone staircase to be surveyed by the two parties as it spiraled into the dank darkness below, awaiting the first to lead and brave its depths. |
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| SemperMemor | Jan 7 2014, 08:16 PM Post #6 |
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Majestic Space Duck
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Rapid wingbeats clipped through the slipstream churned up by the two Air dragons in their party, allowing their much smaller companion easier passage. Narrow, turn-like wings struggled to keep up with the rider upon her back. She had become unaccustomed to passengers in the years following their accident, but she had been adamant about taking the man along with her own strength. Hao leaned forward in the modified saddle that locked his nerveless legs into place and supported his back. His chest lying parallel to her's, face pressed crudely against the violet scales of Iridae's bowed neck. It was best not to be a burden in this long journey when it could be just as well abled, even at his own mild discomfort. A slip of weathered paper gripped in his hand fluttered noisily against the rapid speed with which the Rosemary careened forward; twin to the copies that the other Shadowgardes possessed, the ancient map graphed the forgotten isle far from the coast of the Nyushian jungle. As ancient and towering as the Qih-nzaks themselves, the mountain rose into view far too long after their initial departure. Hours had passed between the last sight of land and that of the dark spires of the Hybrid's domain. It jutted from the ocean in untamed, titanous fashion, swathed in mist and unseen to the eyes of humans since their species' initial creation. From what the restricted library's maps stated, this particular piece of land had broken off from the hidden isle of the Hybrid's home long ago, fading into myth as it likewise dissipated from the minds of attentive cartographers over the centuries. Iridae dove after the fleeting figures of Ionos and Zeal in due haste. Her wings pulled tight against her body, gravity quickly took hold of her lithe frame and dragged her down toward the inhospitable spires far below. Golden-tipped primaries flashed open before the weight of the world's unseen grip impaled her upon the hungry spears. She shot forward into the heavy fog, slipping out of view of the ocean's sights, and quickly pumped her wings to ascend into the airless heavens. Valleys fell beneath them as they darted past. It was quite beautiful, really, Hao remarked. While his dragoness might have been too preoccupied to truly take in the scenery, he couldn't help but let a smile drift across his mouth as he witnessed the untouched jungles transcend into pathless mountains. It was an honor to see such a rare place, he noted, despite the urgency of their sudden departure from the Academy. Minutes later the the vaguely congregated silhouettes of the awaiting Qih-nzak came into view atop the tallest peak of the center-most mountain. Iridae landed delicately between the two Airs, stirring up further earthen spray of fine granules as her wings slowed, and her talons tenderly raked the bare summit. She snorted upon folding her wings, taking in the sight of the aloof creatures around her with high contempt. Despite her loathing of the less vibrant of the two Airs that so adoringly graced their presence, she would not outright challenge her superiority in the imminent situation. Her own rank of fourth in command, while not something to be downgraded itself, made her just slightly beneath Ionos' own. However, regardless of this, she would not make herself appear the shrunken lackey of their company. "I am Iridae, and this is my rider, Hao," the Rosemary barked, feathers not entirely compressing against her neck. She took little care to wipe the distaste from her voice when speaking on behalf of their elite Wing. Hybrids had never been her favorite of this world's unfathomably vile creatures. They were too distant and lawfully neutral for her taste. Opposite them, the friendliest (if you could call it that, the Rosemary was quick to sneer) of the Hybrids clasped his hands together and bowed, if only slightly. Pebbles gently rolled away from his feet as the motion caused a brief lapse of constrained magic. A mildly warm smile graced his thin features, though his narrowed eyes belied his true nervousness. "Salutations as well," he spoke calmly in a voice that might have rivaled the gentle sway of sand as wind swept across the dunes of the far east. "I am Kintsugi, though you may address me as Kin if you prefer." His voluminous robes rippled in the brisk air while his larger kinsmen gave their dues. Maahes, as typical to his intolerance for the unnecessary, was soon to strike the feldspar gate into reluctant movement. The Earth Chre turned quietly upon his heels and made to stride past the towering Qhek, his hands feigning a mudra of alchemical notes to beckon the recesses of the dormant volcano's impregnable interior to their favor. Iridae followed Kintsugi's effortless strides into the void below and, once the remaining individuals began their slow descension into the heart of the mountain, the door began to close above them with a reluctant grinding that sent a tremor through the steep, spiraling stairs. Complete darkness submerged them a moment later, the Rosemary issuing incomprehensible mutterings beneath her breath about the blind trust of it all. Alcoves carved into the rough walls of the entrance column's interior began to glow in the absence of light. Carefully tended to and augmented by the flora Qih-nzaks, a rare species of fungi thrived in the shade of the earth's terrible embrace. Soft blue-green light spilled into the dark interior, providing a minimal source of illumination that allowed for ease of passage. At their helm, Kintsugi allowed his eyes to close and let the world itself guide him downward. His feet beat a steady tattoo of sticking tapping flesh, a soft and self-comforting sound to focus upon amongst the various paws, talons, and leather-clad appendages that defiled the Chre's peace. Their journey came to an abrupt end two hundred feet above the mountain's simmering core. While not active in the present age, the warmth beneath their soles was nigh unmistakable. The glowing moss that crept along the recesses of the cavern's floor exposed a smoothened slab of white-flecked obsidian rock. Molten deposits formed it long ago, even before the lives of demi-gods that accompanied the summit of individuals this day. Despite the length of time it took to reach the very bowels of the mountain the earthen Chre couldn't help but let his eyes grace it's beautiful presence for a moment longer than necessary. Before the company rested a massive slab of scored rock that rose a fifty feet above even the tallest of Qheks. Runes of magic branded it's intricate facing, the marks of whom had long since departed from this world. It was ancient, far elder to the lives of those that occupied what lie beyond. No mighty dragon of today's era could hope wrench it from it's place; a blessing, which, perhaps in the past it had come to face. Thicker than an Earth dragon in it's width, the titanous visage paled nearly every other barring structure in existence. While the Chre might have ordinarily gazed in awe upon it before rushing into a state of a scientist's maddened passion, he could feel the pressure of his kin's stern eyes upon his back and, cutting his own internal monologue short, set to begin the true purpose of his long sojourn here today. A taloned hand brandished before the enormous door and bade a swept mudra. Stone groaned and creaked at it's master's wordless command, the flat wall slowly sputtering into life. Lines of fracture cut across the surface in geometric precision, as, piece by piece, the maze of ostentatious runes broke free of their moorings and folded upon themselves into the fathomless, abysmal rock. Once the last shapes of the great door had fallen away, a pitch void beyond it swallowed up the dim light of the antechamber. Arctic air crept past the threshold. Warmth long stolen from it's greedy clutches, the ominous lack of vibrations beneath the floor did little to soothe the surmounting sense of dread to the sensitive Chre's subconscious ministrations. Kintsugi's eyes narrowed as he stepped quietly into the darkness before them. A gentle flick of the Qih-nzak's wrist wrought green-hued crystals along the interior's recesses to somber life, but what greeted his anxious gaze sent a stunned bolt of dread through his body, rooting him directly in place. He nearly made to fling the door back up into it's rightful home out of alarm, but, as the dragons, Qih-nzak, and humans strode past him into the chamber beyond, he merely watched as the epilogue unfolded. Decomposing figures littered the cavern in the aftermath of some brutal struggle. Chres, Khris, and Qheks alike lie broken, their limbs distorted and angled in grotesque forms as though discarded by a merciless child. Dried pools of violet lie beneath the bodies and painted grim staccato droplets across the cold floor, staining clothing and toughened flesh alike. In the center of the room lie an elaborate prison cell; or, at least, what might have been one in ages past. Like broken glass, crystalline fragments glittered beneath the gentle green light generated by the Chre's magics, sending splintered patterns of prismatic rays across the damp, blackened walls. A sharp intake of breath snapped the painful silence with a violent discharge. "Is this some sort of elaborate joke?" A hiss ripped through pearly fangs as the dragoness spun on her toes to face the Qih-nizak with nothing short of volcanic rage. Her amber eyes burned, pupils blown wide and crazed beyond console. The near god-like level of skill it took to kill even the most accomplished of high-leveled hybrids aside (a feat that she herself had never witnessed in the midst of the bloodiest of battles), the absence of one body in particular set the Rosemary's heart to ruthless pounding. There were no words to describe the overwhelming terror that gripped the fibre of her being as it did now. "You told us that nothing from that cage could never escape," she spat. She took a step forward, wings ruffling and crest bristling high upon it's trembling mistress. A gentle pair of hands pounded the base of her neck, the highest that they could reach, yet the dragoness cared little for her Bonded's efforts to still her voice. His soothing words fell upon pinned, deaf ears. The Rosemary snarled at the closest figure to her. The Earth Chre stood as still the mountain around them. His expression remained unchanged while the large carnivore arched her neck like a snake readying to strike. "You had this fucker under lock and key," the dragoness continued. It never occurred to her in the seconds that ticked by that the Qih-nzaks were as much in the dark about the situation she was. "We were promised this much. Do you know how much we sacrificed to take him down? What we personally suffered for during his reign of tyranny that you, might I mention, condoned the moment you created that slithering wyrm?" Her voice abruptly lost it's declining composure. She exploded in pitch, her words taking on a desperate quality. "Where is Nidhogg!" |
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| CloakAndDagger | Jan 19 2014, 01:01 PM Post #7 |
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THE DUNGEON MASTER
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Nothing pleased the regal air less than the taste in her mouth as the deranged lightning elemental spoke. The slicing sheathe around his mouth turned language into an acrid experience of caustic pitch in her nose and harsh vibrations on her tongue. Their eyes, penetrative ice stares meeting in the middle, did nothing to warm the stifling meeting. The potency could have sublimed a glacier out of thin air. The shaft of her arrow flight had followed quickly and, soon after she’d arched to land, her compatriots had fletched to her. The vibrant male air and, least of all, the plumed rosemary did little to soften her tongue or her standing. Even with them with her to make up the party of ‘friendly’ envoys, there was little open friendship given openly. Zeal, though, seemed most willing of them to show a hand of clearer goodwill, and, opposite him, the most human seeming of the inhuman hybrids gave a warmer smile than any likely deserved. Kin, Io sneered inwardly. Kin, it called itself. No kin of mine. Her green eyes pressed judgingly while her partner looked quietly onward. The small rider seemed unfocused on the situation at hand. It was clear she was not comfortable in the cold, but, there was little fear or apprehension in her hands as they absently rolled over each other. Her fingers were more concerned over the shape of the ring on her finger. Perhaps she felt it would fall off if she didn’t keep tabs on it. Io didn’t seem to notice, but she kept close. The introductions were short and forced. None of them here had any illusions on what they were truly there for - and it was not pleasantries or attempts at friendship. The way to the truth, whatever that may be for the forced grouping of ill-fitting creatures, was opened by a massive hand to the aged pike nearby. The mountain under their feet shuddered and rolled and, like tonguing the rock and earth, a darkened way was carved out of solid earth. The discomforting shape of a titan mouth opened the way downward into the tartarus of their own creation. Ionos, pulling her lips thin in disagreement, was forced to follow behind not only the small Chre, but also the Rosemary. It was disdainful, but, she spoke nothing following a whispered hiss between pearl teeth. She took care that every step downward was as a goddess descending, not as third in line. Kessian stumbled lightly at her heels, but, after a moment, seemed to try to force herself to walk in line with Io, who was always pressing her to keep pace like a woman instead of a child. It was the dragon, however, that cast startled eye back at the closing earthen gate and, as the light was broken into shards and then into nothing, the air felt a shudder along her spine. Unnatural. It was unnatural to be so far down like this and so far from the sky. There was a rejection and a stress brewing in her, but, her partner kept pace. So, she did too. Simultaneously ethereal and stygian, the glow from the fungi warmed the heavy darkness and led the way down into the underworld. With both inward and outward tension growing, had the dragoness known that they were being led by a close-eyed leader, she would have thrown someone into the damned abyss. The farther down they traveled, the more the chill seemed to be cast out. The lingering spirits of the cold surface were driven off by the heart of the mountain’s heat. At their journey’s sudden end, Io could only imagine just what sort of a volcano this may have been eons ago. Though only a fraction of the violent heat was still present, the whole dimly lit area spoke of ancient fire. The quiet embers of the mountain’s core, however, were not the only thing bearing itself here. Huge and ancient-seeming, somehow feeling far older than the rocks around it, the hewn slab before them spoke of a gone age and the magics that were born from it. Neither the dragon nor human had ever seen anything nearing it’s scope or measure in their lives, but, no matter it’s otherworldly circumstance, it seemed to be whisked aside by the Chre’s motions. The air knit her brow and kept her tongue stiffly pressed against her teeth for the time as the incredible, unyielding slab yielded so easily. It’s monstrous account seemed to slip, press, and fold in on itself just as paper. It bent like a reed and twisted like rope. And while Io looked toward it with a suppressed, disdainful, but overwhelming awe, her partner seemed disoriented. She looked around, as if peeling a strange familiarity from the place she’d never been to before. Silently, she watched the Chre with concern instead of the door. And her hands were on her ring again. The monstrous wall -- the abyssal door bent to the magic of the command and the way beyond was opened. The darkness beyond was primeval. It swallowed and gulped at them greedily as, one by one, the loose group crossed the toed line. Called lights broke into life. At first, Io squinted, adjusting, but, her inhuman eyes opened wide as the world seemed to unwind and break from it’s moorings. The air here spoke of death even before she saw the cataclysmic scene. She should have felt it when she crossed into the room, but, somethign about the darkness had softened and stolen the nature of the violence. As her eyes searched the darkened corners, what she found rooted her. Bodies of the dead, Qih-nzak of all shapes and sizes lay like broken dolls in broken positions. Sprays of blood, bone, and flesh warped the interior in a paint of carnage. The air’s flesh prickled to shards of glass. In the central frame, a broken skew of bent bars and broken magics, was open, as if wrenched apart from the inside out - a rib cage exploding outward. The shadowguard’s eyes were hellfire. Unspeakable fear, rage, and disbelief charged her chest and her tongue. She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip one of these lying hybrids apart - preferably Mara, who stood unspeaking at the back of the caravan. For once, at least the once she would accept enough to admit, she could have nearly mirrored Iridae. This was insane. This was not something that could have just happened. Nothing in heaven or on earth could have had this sort of power. It. was. Not. Possible. “You Wretched Liars.” The words escaped like live sparks. “We Trusted you.” The heat in her voice was barely contained and the air around her grew thick and choked. “How could you have let this happen?!” She sucked in a breath while the air around her turned to lead. The girl, her rider, backed up to breathe and stumbled over the cold, disembodied arm that lay across her backtracking path. She fell into the shadows between the broken lights. Instinctively, she held herself up with a grasping hand towards the wall and, what she caught bit into her flesh like a knife. Bleeding, she pulled herself up by it and looked from her wounded hand to the perpetrating thing in the darkness. The crystal jutted out of the wall like bone. Ionos twisted her vicious, vengeful eyes from the largest of the hybrids and shot a mothering, worried glance to the sounds of her partner. The girl reached tentatively for the shape that had struck her, but, an iron hand came clasping around her wrist. Mara, his tail snapping behind him, roughly caught her in a vicegrip and he jerked her hand toward him to examine the profusely bleeding injury. His eyes narrowed. The rider stood startled, but, unprotesting and looked genuinely confused. “Get Your Filthy Hands Off --” The green eyed air threatened in a low, vibrative rumble of coveting violence. Gloved fingers ran the red line, then, without warning, pushed Kessian away entirely before the dragoness could finish her jutting words. The young rider, still more perplexed than anything, stood with her other hand pressing the blood back as her partner bolted over in as queenly a manner as she could manage. Io used herself as a rift between the lightning elemental and what she considered hers, but, Mara was indifferent. He was focused elsewhere. The room was misaligned. Something, either within or something that made it up, was out of phase, but the cold eyed monster could not put his finger on it… and that made him deeply interested. A spark sputtered between the prongs of his tail. It lept up to his left hand and jerked in the distance of his thumb to his first finger. Then, like wires conducting a charge, the resistance of the air to his magic opened a burning, desolate glow. Electricity opened over his hand and forced light into the darkness. Shafts of reflected light reciprocated from the wall and from the spaces among the bodies. Crystals. There were prismatic crystals everywhere. They lingered in the corners, in the bloody pits in the floor. And many, many more than could have ever been natural, spoke in resonating light around the surface of the broken, unbreakable cage. These were new growths. His vocalizing sheathe hummed. What truth was this, then? |
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| Nherva | Jan 22 2014, 11:31 AM Post #8 |
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Lurker Queen
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With introductions made and some form of civility established between the distantly calculative hybrids and the dragons and humans of the world beyond their laboratories and training grounds, Sekhmet followed behind the mountainous form of her son. Descending into the bowels of the prison which had been specifically crafted to hold the world’s worst of tyrants, and her kind’s most devastating mistake wasn’t nearly as ominous to the Qhek as it should have been. She’d had no hand in creating the Nightmare, but he had been a masterwork of her race, something any hybrid would be interested in continuing to study if not for the fact that he had become so dangerous. She should have felt even the smallest twinge of excitement to see such a glorious experiment in person. But instead, pins and needles crawled over her scaled skin like the legs of thousands of tiny spiders as they descended to the depths along with the dragons of the Sekkaian Shadowguarde who had come to seek answers. The moment they reached the main chamber, Sekhmet’s sensitive felid nose was assaulted by the stench of death and fear. Her own kind…in fear? As Kintsugi worked and spoke to the magics that kept the walls of the prison intact, Sekhmet noted several things that made this entire situation all the stranger. The prison was still locked from the outside. Without a hybrid to work through those wards and sigils, it would remain so for all of eternity if that was what it took. But still, even the Qih-nzak had heard nothing from their kin placed within as guards to the powerful being locked away in his magic infused crystalline cage. There was something wrong. If the spiders on her skin were any indication, it was very wrong. The stone gates opened with a nauseating creak and the stench from within wafted outward. The Qhek’s stone-hard lioness face drooped suddenly in grief as she realized what they looked upon. Dim light outlined the curves of bodies strewn on the ground as easily as discarded toys. Her jaw fell slightly as her amber eyes blinked in disbelief. As Qhek, she knew what her kind was capable of physically, even the more human like spellweavers. They were all difficult to kill, and the scene before them spoke of a massacre of which none hardly had a chance of escaping. Rage rippled through the party of investigators like an acidic wave. It took her own resolve a few seconds to catch up after taking in the horrific murder scene before her. The silence of shock shattered in an instant when the smallest of the accompanying Shadowguarde seethed aloud. Both the Rosemary and the Air cast their biting words into the dark before the coldest of the Qih-nzak present brought an abrupt end to it by lighting the area enough to see the true state of the prison cell. Shards of crystals sparkled maliciously in all corners of the chamber, seeming to taunt and tease with their wickedly sharp edges. Many of the bodies were impaled by these crystals, some frozen in the throes of their deaths, which only tugged at the female Qhek’s heart even harder. Her kin, her family, had sacrificed their lives trying to keep Nidhogg under lock and key, but something had gone terribly wrong as evidenced by the mock-petals of the broken cage in the middle of the chamber. The spiders still had not stopped crawling over her skin. “Enough!” Her voice was thunderous in the chamber as she attempted to silence any farther ire. Getting angry was not going to figure out what happened here—why her comrades were lying dead and broken when there was no true reason why. She turned, a flare rippling over her body bright enough to reflect off of the crystals near her feet. Her amber eyes regarded both angry dragonesses with the same sort of rage, though tempered with grief over the scene before her. She did her best to tamp down her immediate reaction of flinging back more insults. “This was not us,” her eyes fell to the bodies on the floor once more. They would all need the proper respect shown their stations, even if she were the last to see it done. “But our magic is here.” She lifted her heavily horned head again, beaded braids clinking quietly as they slipped over her shoulders with the movement. “I am no Chre, but this his Qih-nzak magic. Though it is foreign…it is not us, yet it is,” she couldn’t quite wrap her head around that, not entirely, so she gave her next best explanation after flicking her eyes from Maahes, to Kintsugi, then Mara. “There may be a traitor amongst us. But who among us is so powerful?” She had never in all her years seen a hybrid, even one with an affinity for Earth having such power. The crystals jutting from the walls and floor all held traces of the residual magic that had forced them there. But it was no such magic she’d ever encountered. Even she was powerful in her own right, but whoever had done this, or even why they had done this, was completely beyond her realm of comprehension. No Qih-nzak alive that she knew of could have done something like this. “I can assure you this is not our way,” she looked darkly at the Shadowguarde that seemed determined to blame all of them for Nidhogg’s absence. “Whoever has done this is not acting as a Qih-nzak does.” The implications of her words left a sour taste in her mouth even as she glowered once more at the bodies strewn on the floor. “The balance as shifted and we must correct it,” her final words were for her own kin in the chamber, for at this point she was nearly certain they would be the only ones able to do so. If what they were looking at was easily twice as powerful as the residual magic in the room, the Sekkaian’s would be more like cannon fodder than anything helpful. “There is nothing more we can do here,” she added, then turned and walked toward the staircase, her digitigrade legs carrying her quickly past the others. She would make it a point to return for the dead once she had found their names. The others could follow her out if they wished, but she could no longer abide the horrific scene below. |
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5:31 PM Jul 10