AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic

Amia Island inhabitants who happen to have been looking in the sky towards the center of the island (read: Wyrmhold) during roughly late afternoon 2 days ago would notice a silvery sphere rising into the sky, and within it, what appears to be a very very large skeleton. Dragon. Skeleton dragon. It hovers in the air for a few moments before blinking out of sight.

Any visitors to the Wyrmhold ruins notice that the large set of dragon bones that once occupied the middle of the ruins are now gone.

Sitting atop a branch outside the grove, Nyka stared expressionless at the sky above. Her mind was clouded with all kinds of thoughts, the vast majority of them of a rather gloomy nature.

She had trusted him, trusted that he knew what he was doing when he led them all back to Wyrmhold to put the entity to rest. She had to trust him, that's what she's supposed to do, although she wasn't too sure anymore.

'Don't worry, I have it all planned out' - The words kept echoing in her head as she recalled the conversation the two had on the way into the ruins. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she recalled it.

His plan backfired, and in the worst way possible. Instead of feeding the entity a vulnerable mortal shell, it was given instead a much more powerful one, that proved impossible for the group to attack, let alone kill.
In the aftermath, Valas laid dead, and the dragon was gone, free to roam and explore the abilities of its newfound body.

She felt truly useless back there... even more when they faced the dragon's spirit back at Kohlingen keep and she had nothing but a sorrowful look to offer it.

Another set of words now echoed in her mind, the words of Justicar Marinsbane - "We do not harbor necromancers, defilers, desacrators - Remembering those words brought about a dull ache in her chest.

Was it sadness?

She had gone through so much to break free of her connection to the necromantic arts and now, because of him, she once again heard that all too familiar accusation. She was now the accomplice in the defiling of the dragon's bones. Even unknowingly so.

Her head slumped down as her eyes closed; The whole thing had left her exausted, both physically and mentally.

"I wonder how is Malandria doing... she was hit by this the hardest of us all..." Were her last thoughts as her consciousness slowly faded away into rest.

Last edited by Zante on Sun, Apr 19 2009, 14:12 PM, edited 1 time in total.

They switched the skeletons...

He felt awful, though he would not show it, he was good at keeping his emotions hidden. They messed up, badly at that. During the aftermath, he acted confidently, trying to convince his friends everything would work out. They could not lose hope. Though when the Justicar refused to help, he was close to despairing himself.

The plan was flawless, it should have worked. Infernus's body was the perfect host, and the hallowing would have served to weaken Mylthar further... The dragon would have been slain again, and Mylthar would be gone with it.

It wasn't Infernus though...

Somewhere along the line, another dragon was buried above the ruins of wyrmhold, on the spot where the Queen of the Flight died, crushed under her own keep. The wards that should have weakened him made him stronger. The blade enchanted to fight darkness had no effect on his new body. The wards made it impossible for the companions to attack...

The plan should have worked. He did everything according to his dreams and visions. Or had he overlooked something, misinterpreting the message?

Valas slammed his fist into the ground with all his force, his expression one of anguish. "Blast that..."

The looks of his friends were what hurt the most. Would they ever look at him the same way? *he sighed*

Things had to be put right, there was no other choice.

Kosthu would look up, pacing carefully back and forth.

"The time of men is over, the time of the Draconics is just starting."

Jack grumbled.

"You see, that's what happens when you tell a Salandran to p%#s off. They just come back."

Last edited by Pony on Tue, Nov 05 2019, 14:33 PM, edited 1 time in total.

*in Tarkuul, spies report to the figure sitting in the Speakers office*

Indeed... and the Eternal order is outside of Djedet, weakened from appearances...

*an echo of a voice, seeming to be right next to the agent, yet far far away, speaks*

Then tis time to repay those untold harms those zealots hath visited upon so many.

*a skeletal hand draws up several notes, all of which are sealed and handed to the agent*

Deliver these immediately. We gather, and soon we go to visit the Order...and this time, they shall know our wrath.

*An eerie, echoing laugh rings down the halls of the Tower of the Damned as the agent runs out, the small, mewling girl standing by the door watching him as he goes*

Paint dappled the canvas as Feanor sat overlooking the Minmir valley. His brush mimiced the curve of the river as he worked, the sun was shining down through a patch in the clouds and a flock of birds flew lazily overhead. It was peaceful, and after many a year, Feanor was at peace as well. He sighed contentedly and washed out his brush, glancing back towards the city of Kohlingen and then out over the isle from his vantage point.

His eyes lingered on the silver sphere rising above the treeline that was Amia forest, the forest that hid most of the isle from view. Many things were down that road, Cordor the City of Tolerance, Wyrmhold a great battlefield, the town of the Hin. None of this mattered at the moment, for his eyes focused on the centre of the sphere and on the skeleton within it, at that he was already moving.

The Easel clattered to the ground as he rose, ripping the white silk from the hilt of his sword as he moved. "Calenduil! Come my Steed!" he shouted as he started to jog, south across the minmir valley, towards where the sight of the sphere rising still dominated the sky above. Beside him keeping pace with him appeared Calenduil... a beautiful dabble-grey horse, strong enough to carry a man and his armour in battle, fast enough it seemed to out-run the wind herself. He Hauled himself up onto her back, not caring for the lack of saddle, holding on and directing here with here knees, time was of the essence he felt.

Through the Forest he rode, the horse knowing the way all too well, for her had rode this way before, above, not that he could see it, the sphere had blinked out of existance. He coaxed her into a gallop, and like a silver bullet they flew through the trees and into the hills near the town of Bendir. The Sound of the Hooves drew the mylocks from their holes and they moved to bar Feanors way, but he would have none of that. Unarmoured and armed only with his sword he charged at them, it tracing a glittering arc as he drew it from its scabbard and down, cutting the Mylock nearly in half as he passed.

He moved the sword to his left as he swung down again, the horse leaping over the next Mylock to get in their way as his sword claimed the head of another. Soon enough three mylocks lay dead and the horse and rider were riding ever onward.

They only came to a stop on the causeway leading to the ruins of Wrymhold. Slowly shaking the blood from his blade he sheathed it and Calenduil walked forward gently, her flanks covered in sweat and dust. He slipped down from the horse and approached the place where Imperator should have been, where the dragon bones jutting up from the earth should have been. Instead... there was nothing, just a hole in the ground where the remains had been, these ruins and the disturbed earth standing still as a testament to battles once fought.

A tear rolled down this cheek, it was gone. The wind perked up and his cloak billowed in the breeze. The Symbol of Imperator emblazoned upon it, the marks of fire and claw still scaring the cloak, like the ruins around it and the missing bones, it was a relic of the Dark flights aggression. Feanor frowned, deeply and knelt in the muddy ground, staining his britches. Putting the tip of the sword into the ground and its pommel to his forehead, he spoke aloud, his words reverberating throughout the ruins, a vow that would never be broken.

By all that is holy in this world, by the power of the Seldarine, the Triad and Bahamut himself, I swear that the Defenders shall not rest until the bones of Imperator are once more laid to rest. Through fire and blood, by Steel and spell, such defilement of our Champions and of our dead shall not be left unchallenged.

Upon hearing such a thing Rras scowled.. then tilts his head down.

"Of course they'll jump to conclusions that it wasn't the Platinum dragon that removed those under threat.."

*somewhere in the island a blue dragonkin look at the sky and tears of joy falls on her face she kneels and pray with her fists united as she raises again her face was filled with a cold smile* Glorious work Tiamat, my Queen, give us the strength to show the world that Dragons are might and not to be slain like Lizards. Bring us back to our glory, my Queen, give us back our rightful place on the top of the power chain. *she keep looking at the sky speaking with her Queen, her heart beating fast with joy*.

Siril is out in the wilds the afternoon this happens collecting specimens for his research. He looks to the sky to see the being flying about in awe. "amazing, such power, such grace". He makes a few notes in his spell book and heads to his home.

*******************************************

Reports of this even reach the desk of Ibseth glenn'Vharcan. Reading over the notes his spies have given him he ponders a moment. He composes a few short letters to various assoicates and chuckles darkly. "Perhaps there is profit in this for us all lads, we shall see perhaps...."

Late at night, a rush of animals scatters like leaves in the wind out of the Western portion of the Amia wood, and the familiar smell of smoke and burning wood fills the air. People who rushed to the scene discovered the source: A burning patch of the woods, with fallen trees and scattered timber still smoldering and slowly spreading.

Along with that destruction was one clearly written message, carved into the earth as with a giant talon.

//I assume the markings stayed there after, if not, disregard

Later that day, a large black cat would be seen (or rather not seen) stalking though the woods. A frown would spread across it's features, replaced with a catish grin as soon as the message came into view.

''...and here I was worried how we'd find him...''

One of Bendir Dale's weekly shipments of general trade goods from Kohlingen goes missing. The source is quickly discovered in the tell tale aftermath of a slaughter:

Those passing though the western forest might spot another message, painted with tree sap colored with grinded charcoal, intended to be non-harmful and not disturb nature or the forest, this time in a different handwriting. It would seem poor Mylthar has been rejected...

(the message reads: Dont date dragons)

With a shudder and a collapse loud enough to be heard almost across the length of the entire island, Minmir Bridge collapses into the water, the flotsam quickly being pushed out to sea by Nexus currents.

Eyewitnesses place a gigantic skeletal dragon as the cause of the happening.

*As Delarwyn tries to cross the bridge in her way to the Falls she facepalms without knowing what happened. She takes the long way across and keeps thinking what in heck happened there*

*Old Nick can be seen gathering wood around the kohlingen area*

Samantha heard about the recent destruction and went to the area and questioned those reported as eyewitnesses about as to if there were any innocent humanoids (not including the violent ogres) who were injured in the attack.

How nice of him, getting rid of all those smelly ogres... *with a grin, the drow pins up two posters onto the signs on each side of the river*

I should petition to have the bridge named after me once it's repaired...

*Teshar makes his patrol, sees the sign, and rips them down on both sides of the river*

Curse the dhaerow and his undead dragon! Let HIM pay for the restoration of the bridge, I say!

Ships of all sizes start... disappearing all along the coasts of the island. No side of the island seems safe, nor any city. Fishing vessels bound from Wharftown fail to return to port, as do some from Uhm.

Several trade vessels from the mainland bound to Cordor go missing. One of the vessels is a prominent trade vessel from the nation of Calimshan, bringing in new imports due to the city's recently increased relations. Outgoing vessels find themselves under attack, as well.

Even some ships from Kohlingen go missing, though the berth given to the militaristic bastion is much larger than shown to any other city.

As if to prove that, indeed, no one is safe... a Salandran vessel, bearing several important patients from the mainland is also destroyed.

Several eyewitnesses and a few survivors tell a tale of a massive sea monster acting like a shark prowling for prey. In all cases, descriptions of the beast mesh up perfectly: A giant skeletal "thing", capable of rending apart ships and dragging them to the deep, before submerging under the water and disappearing as fast as it had come.

At last one of them got smart... finally, he thought. He proposed his idea to dozens of people. Now, it will be put into practice. Maybe the destruction that Mylthar caused was what finally forced others to act. The time for petty games was over.

Now that he had backup, things can get moving. It was a sure bet. Soon enough, this whole mess would be over and behind him...

Weston swears up and down when he first hears that one of the Salandran medical ships was lost at sea. The first rumors on explanation don't please him much either.

Once he settles down he can be found in the temple given extended prayers for those lost.

"Some skeletal thing? If it's undead than it can be purged like any other."

A large message appears on the grounds of the Wyrmhold ruins.

"WE HAVE VALAS, MEET ME HERE FOR THE TRANSFER IN FIVE DAY"

signed by,
Yaston

*The hooded figure looks over Minmir from a vantage high above, in the Nexus hills, and gives a delicate, throaty chuckle*

Ahh, dracolich, what hath thou wrought, I wonder? And more, what might you wreak next?

*The Imperceptor turns away, her lovely laughter trailing behind her*

In another murderous move, a ship heading for Tarkuul is taken and dragged under. There are no survivors.

West Kohlingen is attacked, and the fields razed by a combination of Mylthar and undead loosed from the nearby manor.

The beast is bravely driven off by several Triadic Knights and Kelemvorites, much to the happiness of the farmers and citizens living in he outskirts of the large city.

However, in a freak twist, one druid (who eyewitnesses place as being named "Mezzu") saw fit to call down bolts of lightning on the nearby fields, worsening the fires and ruining any chance for them to be salvaged and harvested. Several citizens lodge complaints at the Temple of the Triad with Randolph of Tyr, begging for Justice to be brought down on this Druid who very nearly did more harm than Mylthar himself.

*Angela reads the notice and frowns and walks back at the Keep to ask for donations from all the knights to be given to the Farmers so they wont suffer any hardship*

Even though upset about being left out of yet another encounter with ''his'' enemy, seeing Mezzu act so foolishly and actually being called out for it did bring Valas some satisfaction and sense of justice in the world.

Riala scowled at seeing the destruction in western Kohlingen. Though she live inside the city itself, Riala still considered the entirety of the city her home and hated to see it in ruins. She'd often go to the outskirts when she needed peace and quiet, but that was the least of the concerns on her mind right now.

Working around her injured leg, Riala set to work immediately - helping those out that needed it, as much as she could. Both Mezzu and Mylthar would have to be brought down.

Anyone passing through the gates of Kohlingen during this night would notice a blond-haired woman worshipping before the Idol of Bahamut.. her whispers are intense, and may even be overheard if one was close enough.. words of faith, mostly, but also some words of self-doubt could be caught as well.. she is dressed in a thin gown of gold and black, corsetted at the waist, and doesn't seem to the mind the fact that she has been rained on and that the dress is getting dirty from the stones..

There are also three more beautiful stones lying before her on the rocky stones of the pavement. On the left, a clear diamond. On the right, a flaming fire opal. In the middle, a dark, luminescent black pearl. The black pearl is the largest of the three and is placed right before the Idol. Samantha, any of those stopped at this point might recognize her after this intense of a scrutiny, though her hair is down and she is donning a fancy dress, does not glance up at any approach. She simply worships, whispers, and faces the statue all night. Her hands nearly touch the gems as she bows towards the ground. Some who approach might feel the warm welcoming of calm, a touch of grace. Others might suddenly feel unwelcome, depending on their personal tastes. But they would all notice the woman's distinct dedication to her effort. She seems distracted by nothing. Some might even notice a darkly dressed man standing to the side, occasionally moving forward and whispering something, if they arrived at the right time..

In the morning, she gathers herself and her stones and goes to the Temple of the Triad. She slips another gold sack into the donations bowl before sleeping in the sick room among some damaged poor folk.. and helping to patch them up before she leaves to the Keep to begin some training before the big day.

When not with his girlfriend or checking on the preparations, Valas could be seen sitting outside of the house in Kohlingen he temporary rented, sipping hot chocolate from a steaming mug.

The druids were preparing the plate, he had full confidence in Malandria's abilities, if not her character. He spend some more time researching binding circles, making sure there were no mistakes, that it would work the way they intended.

In his head, he was going over several scenarios of the encounter he was about to face. He could only guess how Mylthar would react, but he was ready to improvise. He would keep his attention long enough for the trap to be sprung, if not with words, then with shield and blade. He only hoped the elves would keep up their end of the bargain, that enough spellcasters would come to offer their aid. If not, they would have to hope that what they got was enough.

Valas would radiate an aura of confidence, anyone looking into his eyes would see the fires burning with a clear message.

Mylthar is going down.

Sometimes, dreams don't come true.

a -very- ticked off Arronax can be seen leaving with his fellow Weave knights, after everyone started bickering and fighting amongst eachother.

Having predicted that all along, he exchanges some quiet words with his Lieutenant, Vaelmith, and finally portals off. Intending not to waste another second on this fragile alliance, when he has someone far more important to attend to.

Likewise angry, Vaelmith makes for continuing to tend to chores in the Monolith, having given the orders regarding what needs to be said to the Winyans to Uma.

~No' until everyone is willin' to work together wi'out the arguin' will I be puttin' my people on the godsdamned line. ~

::

Sharina left with her three brethren after the disaster which should have been the end for the abomination named Mylthar after watching the execution of Valas by the followers of the Selederine coldly. The dark premonition of the failure of the operation has become true, and the consequences will be dire.

::

Last edited by Delarwyn on Fri, Jul 03 2009, 1:22 AM, edited 1 time in total.

*Angela leaves the place deeply disappointed with many of the people there. Elves for coldly killing Valas. The Kelemvorites and the others for allowing and only watching without doing anything to stop, what in her eyes was a murder. The man had his mistakes, his was difficult to deal with, he has caused the disaster in the first place, but those charges are not in any way reasons for a cold blooded execution. She thinks that if he was an elf, he would still be alive. All very disappointing.

The episode only showed her that evil is a very shady thing, that sometimes people show their evil ways without really being a banite, a necromancer or one of the enemies that we all know so well. People become evil when they start to separate themselves in groups of "betters" and no one even paid attention on the remains of the poor Hin, severally hurt by the attack.

The selfishness in some of the people involved was so startling that she thinks hard to try and help anyone again. She prays hard to remain without judging too hard, to understand they are children and they need guidance. That her love for those who err cannot be damaged by the display of this group today. Many of them were just stunned by the confusion. A few bad apple cannot spoil the entire basket*

*As she finishes to think on the matter she breathes in deeply. There is always another day and we will persevere. We will show the enemies, big or small, that those that carries a cruel, selfish intent wont ever win the battle against the Good and strong of heart. One day, Mylthar will Perish.*

*Malandria simply was seen shaking her head and rubbing her temples as she left the seen after making sure Willow was taken care of. The plan turned into a disaster... reallly.. all that could have gone wrong... went wrong.*

After being completely slaughtered by Mylthar and risen by the Triad Ilmateri, Angela, Willow is taken away by Lyle and Sally to recover in Bendir Dale.

After regaining consciousness and coherent thought, Willow is told about how things ended. She frowns and shakes her head in disappointment.

Much to Willows chagrin, having sustained heavy damage to her spine, the Hin Druid remains bed ridden.

*while the Knights, druids and elves were discussing the final strategy in Kohlingen... in a distant part of the forest stood a pale skinned elven girl. Her hair in a bright golden color in contrast to her nearly unnatural snow-like skin. The evening sun reflecting on it while she stood at the cliff... her eyes closed. Simply enjoying the peace of the forest and the gentle sound of the water falling down the cliff.

She stood like this for a while... her mind drifting away from the troubles of this isle which for so long now had been her home. She kept her distance to people... their fights... she was ripped out of her thoughts apruptly when the earth shuddered and with a loud thud something seared out of the sky, hitting the gound behind her. Momentarily she swirled around... her eyes widening in terror as she had to look up high... and... higher. The huge skeleton seemed quite pleased to see her... her heart began to race in her chest.*

"You are his... and now you are MINE" *the rumbeling voice echoed in her ears. Fighting was pointless... wasn't it? Would she stand a chance against this terror.... when so many others fell? Thinking of what this creature had done... to Bendir... the forest... lit a spark inside of her. The Aasimar stood up to her full height ... blue scales began to grow on her soft skin as she changed into a dragon aswell. But still... the ancient blue would barely even reach the hight of the monsters chest. Her courage however grew the more she thought of the innocents who suffered under this threat.*

*the large blue hesistated for a moment as Areliria realized how big Mylthar really is* "I will not let you terrorize the innocent as you already did, without trying to stop you!"

"Your corpse is as good as your life"

*the two dragons charged at eachother, lighting bolts cracking though the air and icy wind racing over the leafy ground for some awfully long minutes.... but finally... with a terrifying roar it ended... the blue dragon collapsing in a pool of blood. As she fell to the ground with a loud rumble, the scales drew back into her skin and the elven maiden lay motionless on the ground. No sound now to be heared in the forest... it was as if all life in the forest was gone for this brief moment... as the last rays of dusk had faded. Mylthar picked up the limp body and flew off to meet it's prey.

...life returned to the area again as the dragon left... the animals, who before fled terrified returned... now some remains of dried blood that haven't been washed away by the rain yet, and a few broken branches and lightning burned trees are all that might hint that a battle has taken place*

Near Wyrmhold, a message would have been burned into the ground, plainly visible from the air.

I am tired of this. Just tell me what you want. It's yours for her.

The ranger would set up a small camp, using some of the crumbling ruins for shelter. He didn't care for anything anymore, only his love. He would wait, as long as it would take.

For her, he was wiling to sacrifice the world.

*Elrid Alloe, the blue dragon kin, that from time to time visits the old home of her kind, sniffs the air and sees the blood. Sniffing it and seeing the burns of lightning in the floor she growls angrily*.. One of my kind.. WHO KILLED ONE OF MY KIND??? May Tiamat bring revenge at your door, whoever you are!! *she screams into nothingness and walks away angrily to find the other blue dragonkin*

Another message has been burned into the ground.

Stop hiding from me. Face me.

A Dream Come True

Who is online