Into Sylvaria


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The wind kicked dust into Galen's eyes. He snarled and wiped the grit from his eyes, but it really was no use, even as a native to this dry, arid landscape, he still had issues with the dust and sand getting into, well, *everything*, as sand had a tendency to do.

He squinted, not far off he could see a storm raging perhaps a mile off, maybe less, the wind and sand buffeted everything that it came across, he could see the branches of the few trees that peppered the landscape bending against the gale, watched the space grass sway and ripple in time with the gusts.

This storm wouldn't bring the water that this desert desperately needed, just more sand.

It was a sandstorm, the only storms Sylvaria got at this time of year where the sun was in the sky for twenty out of the twenty-four hours of the day. The sun had ample time to scorch the landscape, the people, the well guarded and limited sources of water. Everything bowed to the mercy of the sun.

A muffled grunt had Galen glancing back over his shoulder at where his mount sat, its shaggy fur protected its skin and eyes from the worst of the sun and sand. Its back, however, wasn't covered in fur, but opalescent scales that served to reflect the heat from the sun off its back, cooling it in the process. The beast's feet were cloven hooves, the soles spongy and webbed, perfect for crossing sand. It was the perfect desert specialist and easy to tame, so long as one kept it fed and watered.

Its head tilted at him and it warbled softly. Though he didn't know what kind of creature it was, nor what its sex was, they got along well, he hadn't named it, half expecting the spindly legged beast to keel over dead soon after he bought the thing. He was still surprised now, years later, that it eagerly followed him through hell and back.

He pulled the dark tinted goggles back over his eyes and pulled his ragged, stained beige scarf back up around his nose and mouth. It used to be white, but now, in its age and use, it no longer was. But it was clean and served its purpose: to keep sand and dust out of his nose and mouth.

He strode over to the beast and rubbed it vigorously between its delicately curved horns. The creature warbled softly and nibbled at his hand, its sharp fangs nearly nicking the skin. He knotted his fingers in the beast's mane and hauled himself up onto its back. With a bellow, the creature took off, but not away from the storm, but towards it.

He knew why this storm was brewing, it was the whole reason why he was out here in the first place. A storm elemental had awoken and had been terrorizing the local village. A bounty had been put out, which Galen had immediately taken.

Bounties were the only way that he was able to make a living. The magical blood running through his veins prevented him from keeping a job. He was seen as unpredictable, dangerous, unholy. He scoffed at that. Unholy? He was just...a little different, that's all.

The beast slowed eventually. The storm raged around them, sand getting in every crevice, it battered any exposed piece of skin, but Galen loved it. He loved the power of the storm, how it roared, how it snarled and beat others to the ground or scared them into hiding.

He leapt off his mount, booted feet sinking into the sand that shifted and writhed beneath him. As soon as he turned the beast lose it bolted, its spindly legs carrying it out of the storm and into safety. He didn't care though, around him, in the eye of the storm, the being responsible howled its challenge at him.

He lived for moments like this. Where he could fight and make others bend to his will. He lived for the fight.

Yellow, reptilian eyes narrowing in response, Galen roared his own challenge back, the sound was beastly, guttural, animalistic. A sound that didn’t match his face nor his form. Galen wasn't human, not entirely. He was descended from one of the Deities that had once ruled this land. He had dragon blood in his veins, magic in his soul, he was the very being that the Sacellum wished to destroy.

That magic showed when he fought, his face warped, he had the strength to rip a man limb from limb, and, in a fight, he didn’t blink an eye at it.

With a bellow, the Elemental dropped from the sky, its body nothing more than magic and sand mashed into a humanoid shape. Its ‘eyes’ glowed an electric blue, the same color that showed through the debris that made up its body.

Iolanthe watched it fling out one of its many arms, electricity singing across the sand and arcing towards him, crackling and snarling like a wild beast. But Galen didn't move, didn't even flinch when the bolt hit him. The electricity crackled across his skin, but soon settled just below the surface, it was wild and untamed, just like him.

“My turn.” He spat, ripping the scarf from his face revealing the lower half of his face, his mouth was twisted in a ferocious snarl, the teeth bared, sharp fangs glittering.

If the elemental felt surprised, it didn’t show. If it felt fear, it didn’t tell. It simply ripped a bolder from the earth and hurled it at him.


Galen turned his bag over and tipped the contents onto the counter. Ores, gems and an elemental core came tumbling out, littering the counter and gleaming up into the face of the shopkeep that had posted the bounty.

He tugged the scarf down, exposing his face. "Well?" He rasped, voice rough from disuse and in desperate need of water. "What'll you give me for this?" He watched, with growing satisfaction, how the man's face paled.

The man was probably hoping that he would also be killed in the attempt to bring the elemental down. "What? Don't have the pay ready?" He asked, raking the gems and the core back in the bag he'd used to carry the loot.

"N-no! No, I do-" the man reaches under the counter and Galen tenses, but relaxes quickly enough once the bag is gingerly sat on the counter. "Its all I have!"

"Thanks." He grunts, pocketing the coin without counting. He knows it's short, he's already expecting it to be, because why wouldn't it be?

He looks around the shop for a moment, he needs to restock, he's so very low on food and water, but he can feel the man's eyes burning the back of his neck and he slowly puts down the bundle of leather he'd picked up.

Galen doesn't spare the man another look as he leaves. The door swings shut behind him and he pulls the scarf back up around his face. He had barely enough food and water to last him until the next town, but there was no way anyone here was going to sell to him now.

"Should've shopped first, shouldn't I?" He asked his mount, running a hand along it's long cheek. It blinked at him and made a sound in its throat. He shook his head and swung himself up into the saddle, the creature didn't so much as need spurring into a trot. As soon as he settled, it was moving, it's strange gait carrying them at a decent clip.


Undisputed king of the Dinosaurs
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I think you are missing the point of of this sub-forum