View unanswered posts | View active topics * FAQ    * Search
* Login   * Register




Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 5 posts ] 
Kamina
 
PostPosted: Tue, Oct 01 2019, 10:02 AM 

User avatar

DM

Joined: 05 Jul 2007
Location: Kent, England.

---

In a musky section of the Upperdark, the sound of puddles being disrupted echo in its silence as a humanoid runs through the dimly-lit cave system. A Black Dragon Disciple, haunched over forwards with large Black wings looming from her back trots with haste as she power-walks holding a bag full of precious gems. Her face half-scaled with black leathery spots, two curved horns spiraling out of her forehead, she suddenly ceases as the cave illuminates with a soft orange glow.

The sound of screaming in undercommon fills the caves with terror, bats fly overhead as the woman peeks around the corner to view what is occurring.

A Drow woman, dragged by her long hair, flails as her children scream for her safety. A massive hulking hobgoblin in impressive armour thrusts her in to an open fire, causing the screams to cease after mere seconds. "King Wolfpelt." The Disciple whispers to herself. "You've made it all the way to Nel'tyrr, L'Obsul is nearly in your reach." the mutters continued. She observes as King Wolfpelt moves towards the children as the monstrous army look on.

"CHILDREN OF THE SPIDER QUEEN." The beast booms, slowly and precisely, almost immediately ceasing the mourning cries of the young ones. "THE SINS OF YOUR PARENTS ARE NOT YOUR OWN. MY PEOPLE AND KIN HAVE BEEN KEPT AS SLAVES BY YOUR ELDERS. YOU WILL BE LEFT TO THE GODDESS YOUR PARENTS PRAY FOR. SURVIVE, AS WE HAVE DONE. L'OBSUL LIES THIRTY MILES DUE EAST OF HERE. I SUGGEST YOU GET WALKING, YOUNG ONES."

King Wolfpelt mounts the colossal black Dire Worg that had been lying in wait anticipating a sacrificed drow to chew upon, but was granted no such prize. The army disperses in to the darkness. "One more victory for the Wolfpelts." The Dragon Disciple sighs. She observes the children, at least three dozen in a pile of holding each other and mourning. By no means high born citizens of the underdark, massacred for enslaving their enemies and using them for labour. A few of the Drowlings stand up, stomaching their deep upset, they begin to collaborate with those who are able to put survival first, quick to leave those who are paralyzed with fear and mourning behind. They begin to walk towards the Dragon Disciple, who promptly switches sides of the cave. She watches the small party of young Drow march through the way she came, a way in which she narrowly avoided many of the underdark's horrors leading to L'Obsul.

"It's the better choice." Her usual monologuing continues, before looking at those still in the village. "They have died far too close to Vazurim's lair, the dead will rise in hours."

She moves past the village, putting a hefty obsidian keystone in to a hidden rock. "It's not your problem." She says to herself, with a pitiful look upon her face. "It's how it is down here. The Wolfpelts occupy the Archdruidess' attention, less cast upon us." She looks back, the Drowlings completely out of her sight now. "The price of Drow children is small to ensure we are not disturbed." Before disappearing in to a small alcove that appeared at the key's turning, which promptly closed itself upon her entering.




---

_________________
"Operating in the border between light and darkness, shadowdancers
are nimble artists of deception. They are mysterious and
unknown, never completely trusted but always inducing wonder
when met"

-Dungeon Master's Guide 3.5e.


 
      
Kamina
 
PostPosted: Tue, Oct 08 2019, 2:45 AM 

User avatar

DM

Joined: 05 Jul 2007
Location: Kent, England.

---

Above the ground daylight broke, though in the depths of the caverns beneath Chalkcliff, the Black Dragon Disciple nears the end of her candlelit inscribing. Around her, the murkiness of the moss-covered stone glows eerily amidst the small, cluttered study. Her thoughts are abruptly ended, upon a slow series of thuds against her darkwood door. As she opens it, the grim figure of a rotting undead drow stares at her.

"You have been requested to the Phylactery chamber." It snarls, the voice of its master leaving its barely functioning mouth.

The Disciple doesn't flinch, or even acknowledge the words that are spoken. The undead lingers for a minute, before turning off to the darkness. "Why?" She thought to herself. "I have not been there in years, has someone disturbed him I wonder?".





Some time passes as she navigates the ruins. They're too big for its rooms and too small for its hallways. She always wondered how its original occupant decided to design this place, considering they were a Dragon themselves- an ancient one at that. The thought of the long-since-dead Metallic crosses her mind, causing her to shiver and retch a bit as her activated blood rejects the idea of what a Metallic Dragon is. As her mind wonders off, her thoughts are brought straight to reality as a hulking half-Black Dragon imposes her way to her destination. He stands in the corridor with his arms folded, his grafted wings erect and intimidating, he calls out to her.

"Apprentice, you have been summoned?" He asks. His voice in itself is something she could never get used to. It flickers and ripples as he speaks. Sometimes the sight of him disgusts her. It was somewhat hard to believe that this monster was five generations older than herself.

"Indeed, teacher, I received the summons before I was set to get some respite." She replies blandly. He likes it this way. Keep it simple, factual and without emotion.

The Half-Dragon sizes her up. It's folly for her to even think about countering it, he's nearly two whole heads taller than her and even with her wings spread out, her wingspan would hardly outright his bulking torso. "Good, do not keep Father waiting. If any inkling of my blood is as strong as I am in yourself, you are destined for great favour with him."

She does not reply, but nods in earnest. He steps aside for her, eyeing her from behind as she walks on ahead, his visage disappearing in to the darkness of the ruins.






She hated this room the most.

The massive bridge that lingered after a pit she knew was not bottomless. After all, when she came to Chalkcliff to investigate her bloodline, she had no idea her origins would end up containing her here as a busy-body. Her first year was spent exclusively clearing the goblinoid corpses from the horrific falls they'd endured. She was not afraid of heights- no, that definitely wasn't it... but she was afraid what had been deposited there during her absence.

The Defence Pylons floated idly. She was curious if they were as dangerous as she'd been forewarned, though no one ever made it this far down. The final line of defence before one could reach the Phylactery room. If someone were to make it this far, crossing this bridge would just be more corpses to collect on the lower levels.

She descends down her final staircase, which leads out in a strange foyer. "Great." She thinks to herself. "They're all here."

Despite her great-great grandfather being the child of the one who dwelled beyond the gate created from the ribcage of the Ancient Copper that lived here, the ranks between himself and the owner of the glowing emerald eyes taking notice to her past the rib-gate turns to her. Four high-priests of Faluzure, very religious and very dogmatic, one of the four does not even possess a droplet of Dragon Blood in his body. "Ah young Aweynn." The rotting ringleader calls out. "You have received our summons. Vazurim has called to you for a one-to-one meeting." He smirks as he continues. "Of course, we both know one-to-ones normally entail a new addition to our undead masses."

"I'm not concerned." Aweynn replies, huffing slightly. "I know I have not performed any actions to offend the great Vazurim, nor have I remained idle to garner his wrath."

"That may be so!" Retorts the fatter one of the four. "But Vazurim's life is infinite. His own view of life now extends beyond your reach. If he sees you unfit, he will not let you live out your days."

"Whatever." She shrugs, walking past the four. "You speak for him, however my ears need his own words placed within them. If I am to be dispatched, then I shall bow down and accept it."

Aweynn goes to pull a boney lever, leading her in to the Dragon's chamber. As she walks in, the gate shuts itself behind her. Leaving the four men to observe and mutter.

"And you had doubts." Continues the fatter one, to the ringleader. "She grows in power every day. A child of Vazurim's blood, as well as his only child's. We are lucky she instigated activating her blood with us."

For a moment there is silence. The two that were already displaying their mute state look to the ringleader, who slowly and carefully takes in the words of his colleague.

"That may be so, however she has shown many Tiamatian traits about her. If Vazurim is favouring her, we should ensure we begin her grafting soon. The sooner we can unchain her from the shackles of Tiamat to serve Faluzure the better. I have my concerns though..." He trails off in to more silence, looking in to the distance as the meeting begins.









"Welcome, Aweynn. It has been a while. I have something important to discuss with her."





Aweynn, in her kneeling state, looks up at the skeletal Dragon, look is looking at her from a side-view.




"Archdruidess Neris' reinforcements are finally coming. We must begin operating the Obsidian Phylactery."







Image

_________________
"Operating in the border between light and darkness, shadowdancers
are nimble artists of deception. They are mysterious and
unknown, never completely trusted but always inducing wonder
when met"

-Dungeon Master's Guide 3.5e.


 
      
Kamina
 
PostPosted: Wed, Oct 30 2019, 14:07 PM 

User avatar

DM

Joined: 05 Jul 2007
Location: Kent, England.

---

Aweynn gently pushed a large tome back in to her bookshelf within her office. A long sigh was drawn from her. "Maybe I should have a rest." She murmured to herself. She disrobed her formal attire, placing some relatively raggy brown clothes to see her off to sleep. Her long black wings folded in on themselves as she moved in to the bed, a long groan as a thought crossed her mind. "It's been a few tendays since I've been back... no doubt will I be sent to find more resources in the Underdark soon..."

She began to drift off in to her sleep, wherein a suddenly tremor violently shook the entirety of their base. Tomes and books shot across the room, the pajama-adorned Aweynn's wings shot in to an erection as she looked around, startled.

Without thinking to get herself, she began to storm through the lobby, wherein most of the cultists and sentient undead began marching to the Phylactery chamber. "Loremaster Brent, are we under attack?" Aweynn asked a man in black and grey robes, suitably clenching a massive tome with draconic scrawlings on them.

"The shuddering came from the island surface." He groaned. "Maybe the war of the monsters and the Archdruidess has erupted once more."

The thought lingered in her mind as they began to calm their march upon moving once more through the massive bridge, with the defence pylons frantically scanning those marching to Vazurim's lair for any foes. Once they had arrived in the massive lair, they began to form lines based on rank. Aweynn took her usual place next to her half-dragon ancestor. While Vazurim's skeletal head lingered low as the high priests whisper words of news to them, she looked to her ancestor and whispered: "I hear it may be war once more on the surface."

The Half-Dragon shifted his gaze on to the young disciple, shaking his head. "That was not the sound of war, nor an explosion. It was a mechanism." Aweynn's brows rose at that, but before she could ask the question he continued: "It appears the Gold has finally arrived like we were foretold. They have found one of Few'chur's Keystones."

A secondary shudder was felt, the clergy fell quiet as they looked up pending the release of some loose ceiling bricks. Their gaze was quickly returned to the skeletal dragon emitting a terrifying blue aura around itself.

"As you can no doubt feel, that is now two of the three Keystones activated on the surface. We have had reports of the Spirit of Fire's unrest, which can only signal that soon the location of the locking mechanism will be revealed. We have stopped the last attempt at them trying to find its location, however we must hold by the belief that the Ancient Copper has left them details on how to reach it. The previous defensive armaments are already in place and on standby, we will release some of our Tithe Dragons to reinforce it." Vazurim bellows, to the audience drawing absolute silence as he does so.

One by one, Vazurim called the high ranking officials to speak with him. After the last had finished speaking to the dracolich, Aweynn turned. "Aweynn. It is now your turn to receive orders." Vazurim ordered her.

The disciple looked back in somewhat shock. "Great Vazurim, I am a mere apprentice to your only child, what is the task you betroth on to me?" she replied, curtsying as she did so.

"Your role is becoming more and more crucial in our matters, we shall-" he began, before a third, much less violent tremor shook. Unlike the previous two, despite it not having the same powerful impact, this time Aweynn felt electricity shoot up her body in anticipation.

"They've unlocked all three, they will be obtaining that information soon." Vazurim spat. "Aweynn, I need you to focus on reinforcing the Lower Levels."

"I understand, great Vazurim." She replied with a bow.




---



The moonlight of the evening across the vacant grasslands lit up the small Platinum Knight troupe's camp with a beautiful white afterglow. To its side, Prem and Illunamaeryx finish a quiet conversation, before Illunamaeryx walks off and departs.

Prem looks to the moon, talking to himself. "So this is how Kohlingen felt when I used my visions to manipulate the outcome and ensure our safety." He sighed. "Lord Bahamut, if our fates have been drawn here by one of your children many years ago, then please send me a vision of our outcome."

Prem's eyes glow a faint bronze.

The vision entered his mind.

His body froze in place for ten minutes.

Before he fell to the floor gasping.

"Bahamut..." He shakily murmurs to himself. "Why can't I see past entering that subterranean garden...?"



---

_________________
"Operating in the border between light and darkness, shadowdancers
are nimble artists of deception. They are mysterious and
unknown, never completely trusted but always inducing wonder
when met"

-Dungeon Master's Guide 3.5e.


 
      
Jes
 
PostPosted: Wed, Oct 30 2019, 16:28 PM 

User avatar

DM

Joined: 23 Aug 2006
Location: Camriiole

Illunamaeryx lay on a southern cliff in the western grasslands, her golden neck poised upright in an elegant arc. She gazed out over Chalkcliff, her eyes taking in the details of the land that would be the people's new home. They had thus far been diligent in their work of laying the foundations and smoothing the uneven earth in preparation for building. Their spirits seemed high, which was a much-needed reassurance to the young gold dragon.

Her gaze drifted to the gathering of Platinum Knights and dragons situated just north of her, down on the ground. Platinumsword and Hope spoke quietly together. Prem sat nearby, alone. She wondered what was going through the bronze Seer's mind, what questions he asked himself and their King. She had told him what Few'Chur had said about Death, but she wasn't convinced that the absence of Vision meant the end of one's life. She didn't trust the Foresight these seers obtained. Especially after hearing the story of what was meant to happen to her and her brothers, according to Few'Chur. She was never supposed to make it away from her parents' lair. Her father was meant to be the one to kill Xil'lauriel.

In the future foreseen by this copper dragon, did Kohlingen fall? Would they have had her father, an Ancient gold dragon, to assist them instead? It surely would have gone better for them, if so. It was not a consideration meant to discount her own efforts, but she acknowledged easily that her seven year-old mind was not as developed as her father's had been. Her experience was all but nonexistent. She had been thrust into a role she had meant to avoid, partially because she knew that her beliefs and ways would not always align with the humans she needed to serve in the capacity of First Knight of Kohlingen. They would not always understand the things she did - or what other dragons did due to her presence.

But whether this "other future" would have been better for the people or not didn't truly matter. It could not be changed and she would be foolish to wish otherwise.

But the context of what the copper dragon Few'Chur had told her father when they met for the last time settled the remaining questions she had about her father. It also created a few new ones, but at least she understood why he had decided to split up his children and send them away to different corners of Faerun, to place them under the protection of trusted allies. He had then sought to take the fight to his enemies, rather than wait for whatever it was Few'Chur had seen. Her father had not trusted the Visions any more than she did now.

Perhaps she concluded these things in error. Perhaps she was right. There was no way to confirm this, however, so she allowed a moment's comfort in it. She was not beholden to another's Sight, to a preordained path that saw her all the way to her death. She could decide her future for herself, and that future would always be in the service of her King. She had become a potent Cleric of the Lord of the North Wind at a remarkably young age; she knew that it was unusual, even for a gold dragon such as she was. But even those of Bahamut's Council had recognized something in her. Perhaps it was merely her bull-headed determination even in the face of great evils that should have set her good sense into motion and had her running off to safety. Perhaps it was simpler than that. Whatever the case, she had been set on a path that was greater than herself, greater than her place here...

She looked at the Platinum Knights. She would be their Commander soon, if all went well. Authorized by (and perhaps even with the blessing of) Platinumsword, the Most Holy Knight of Lendys, the great silver dragon who had been training her for the position these past months.

Her eyes shifted to look upon the little campfires dotting the grasslands east of where she lay. The Justicar and the Council were there. Her brothers were there. Some of her sworn brethren from the Order were there. She had worked alongside these people for years, though as a leader for only the last two. She had "grown up" among these people, even if they didn't truly realize just how young she was. She was not like them, in this case. While she was only seven years old, she had the mental maturity of some sages, or so the saying went. In a thousand years, she would still be fighting for Bahamut - barring a premature death, of course - so her time here among the people of Kohlingen... was most likely to be transitory.

She adored the people. She had many friends here, but also many enemies among those who would not or could not approach her about their misgivings. It was inevitable, if unfortunate. If it had been her choice, she would have preferred to work in secrecy. Being forced to reveal herself by Charirmarixensvern had changed everything.

And not for the better.

Illunamaeryx lifted her head and gazed up toward the sky. Another battle would reach them soon, but she was confident they could win. Once that was over, though... What would be her next task? Her heart burned to see an end to Tiamat's wickedness, but of course that was a lifetime of blood and battle. But it was one that she had started with Charirmarixensvern, continued with Xil'lauriel and Endlesswildfire.

It would not end with Vazurim.

_________________
Login: The Copper Queen
Illunamaeryx - Platinum Commander

See me DM-side as:
[DM] Hlal | [DM] Dragonlady | [DM] The Voice

-------------------


 
      
Kamina
 
PostPosted: Fri, Nov 08 2019, 23:25 PM 

User avatar

DM

Joined: 05 Jul 2007
Location: Kent, England.

---


"Ignore it." Hushed the Half-Black Dragon. The walls shuddered and the sound of collapsing debris echoes throughout the grimly lit chamber. Aweynn, sat with her legs crossed reading a tome, can't help but watch the dust plumes seep through the brickwork.

"I can't, master." She replies, shaking her head as the shaking continues on. "That is no doubt the sound of the Writkeeper's failure."

The Half-Black looks back to his student, his only legacy worth a damn and the only descendant of himself and Vazurim that he knew. His face moves back to the alchemy table before him. "That is the sound of the whole West Wing collapsing, no doubt the damage will have scathed parts of the lower levels as well." Aweynn closed to her, to which the sound of the heavy tome clapping shut prompted his continued words. "The Writkeeper has solved his purpose, his body will be in the rubble and we can salvage it soon. His phylactery is intact, we'll get him back soon."

Aweynn sighed. "Pulling back our numbers when we had prepared for a full frontal attack is an absurd idea. Why didn't we station any more of our forces?"

"The protection of Vazurim is paramount, our efforts go in to fortifying the the alleys leading to the Rose Garden as well as bolstering our protection on the lower levels." The hulking figure responded, shaking a vial of luminous green liquid.

"What's so important about the Rose Garden anyway?" Aweynn huffled, the planning of half and fully-fledged dragons was beyond her, but she knew there was a reason to their madness.

"Oh? You don't know? It's where Vazurim keeps his eyes." He smirks at her, tipping some darts with the poisonous liquor. Aweynn's eyes grew as she heard that. Vazurim's Eyes.... she'd heard of what it was ambiguously once before. Vazurim himself was a powerful Dracolich beyond comprehension, but his safety was only guaranteed due to a massive weapon that is stored away guarding the vault key to unyield the Ancient Copper's magic. "Don't you see?" The Half-Black continued, putting the darts in to a small pouch. "The Upper levels being unlocked was a small price to pay to bring this so-called Order of the Imperator to our choke point... they'll face resistance beyond which they have ever witnessed. It shall be in their eulogy that they fell to Vazurim's Eyes. The garden will be a beautiful place to die, more than these Bahamutians deserve."

"Now go." He commanded, passing Aweynn the freshly restocked pouch. "Let's see if we can't grab ourselves a Metallic to experiment on when they arrive, hmm?"



---

_________________
"Operating in the border between light and darkness, shadowdancers
are nimble artists of deception. They are mysterious and
unknown, never completely trusted but always inducing wonder
when met"

-Dungeon Master's Guide 3.5e.


 
      
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 5 posts ] 


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
Powered by phpBB © 2000, 2002, 2005, 2007 phpBB Group