Return of the Dragon Tamers: The Plague of Ogual

Soulserenity20 · May 24, 2014

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Banner Current Events Current Plot Point Characters/Hexes Post001 Combat System

Return of the Dragon Tamers
The time has come for the dragons and the humans to join forces once again...
Hunting the Blackshire Stags

Narien, Illyria, Avren, Pomona

Reverie, Xylia, Alder, Saira
Terria has been rescued and returned safely to the meadow. Her retrieval came at the cost of another talented tamer: Goliath, and his dragon Hezekiah. Terria slumbers in sickness of the body and the mind even as Merrik has spent more than a week at her side, healing her thrice daily, doing everything in his power to bring her back to the Order.

The party that ventured to eastern Galidus to sort out the issues in Kibran returned with a new stranger who turned out to be the bondmate of the Valor dragoness, Andraste. Alder Grey has joined the ranks of the Order and now works to find his place.

Shortly after the Order's reuniting in the meadow, a council was called the a vote was ordered for the army's next tactical move. With the votes in, the Order is now set on unlocking the memories of the strange man Bren and travelling to Galidus to meet with the new king, Kylvest Brohn of Trespa while simultaneously meeting with the People of Dragons elders.

Before the Order sets off once more, they are taking time to return to their training at the meadow and heal their hearts and bodies. At current, Merrik has chosen to mix things up and brought the Order out to the north-eastern woods to hunt for Obsidian Nova's favorite game: Blackshire Stags. After a great deal of drama in Kibran regarding Merrik's decisions on leadership, he hopes that the Order will begin to sort itself out within the ranks and grow to trust each other more deeply in a time when trust among comrades is a necessity.
Character Hex Colors
[spoili]
Aerarya is #800080
Saira is #33cccc
Merrik is Red
Nova is Black with Shadow and Italic.
Avren is Green
Viridian is Yellow Green with Italic.
Terria is Dark Azure
Taega is Medium Gray with Glow and Italic.
Requiem is Maroon
Aleria is Dark Green.
Agni color is #999999
Narien is #0092b3

[/spoili]
Soulserenity20 ---- Merrik Tetra ----- Obsidian Nova, Nightmare Dragon
Soulserenity20 -----Terria Tetra ----- Ataegana Kuu'iah, Lunar Dragon
Soulserenity20 -----Avren Lebram ----- Viridian, Forest Dragon
Rainjay -----Saira Rinien ----- Aerarya, Atmosphere Dragon
Rainjay -----Illyria Rowena Renthir ----- Mirazh, Desert Dragon
Firejay1 -----Narien Ki'ila ----- Angi, Arcane Dragon
White -----Rèverie Gray ----- Celeste, Celestial Dragon
Mowkie ----- Pomona Ayelet Muldell ----- Katla, Vanity Dragon
Mowkie ----- Alder Balthazar Grey ----- Andraste, Valor Dragon
Crimson77 ----- Xylia Kalei Iwalani ----- Deventh, Swamp Dragon
Tetra Estate - Coliseum, 8:17am

The morning air was cool and crisp, the last signs of Winter nipping at Spring's hold on the lands. There was a deep fog rolling in over the eastern forest, blanketing the ancient trees with an eerie, chilling veil. A pair of deep green eyes scanned the surrounding landscape from a hundred feet in the air. Their owner felt no fear, no discomfort of the altitude, being as much at home in the skies as he was on the earth. While the height and the crisp morning air did not bother him, a deep concern was festering within the corners of his mind. It was not unusual for worry and concern to waft about in his thoughts, but the intensity of today's concern was unprecedented.

There was a silence that surrounded him, cocooning him in its peaceful tendrils, broken only by the steady whoosh of powerful wings. With each heavy downbeat, the man in the sky would exhale, taking in the pristine air the ancient woods provided and letting it out in a meditative manner. His dark hair swayed gently, not by breeze, but by wing-beat. The man was concentrating on the legend that was about to begin a hundred feet below him. The man was sorting out his thoughts, organizing his concerns, perfecting his plan of action. Worrying. Concerning himself. Stressing.

The mind is of no use when it is tangled and knotted with stress and worry.

Merrik Tetra opened his eyes as a wave of reassurance swept into his mind, settling what had been stirred up, putting his last lingering thoughts in the right place, and shouldering the mental burden that so commonly threatened to crush him.

"Your wisdom could not have been more welcome. But to execute concern would be unwise. Today the stories of the world will shift mid-sentence, a new chapter forcing its way into a tale of growing darkness. Today the legends of old will be reborn, history repeating itself at the hands of peril upon these lands." Though his lips did not move and no sound rang out into the air, his words found their way into the mind that commanded the wings beating powerfully at Merrik's sides.

The man in the sky was not alone.

A hundred feet above the Tetra Estate, a creature of myth lingered in the air, sustained by the grip of its thick wing membranes on the cool morning air. The creature was massive, larger than any common animal of the lands, and it wore a cloak of scales as black as a night sky devoid of any stars. Blood red eyes that made every onlooker feel like prey blinked slowly as they stared at the distant fog bank. It's vast wings, cloaked in the same obsidian scales that coated the beast's muscular body, wore rings, red as the most scalding lava.

The creature was a dragon. A Nightmare Dragon, to be specific; a beast of legends and fairy tales from a time long ago, long before the memories of even the oldest human. For hundreds of years the sound of heavy wing-beats parting the air could not be heard in these lands, or any other for that matter. For hundreds of years, the great draconic race was thought to have been extinct, perished by the hands of elves or man or even time itself.

Few would believe their eyes. But Merrik Tetra would not so much as blink at the site of such a creature, for the dragon of nightmares and terror that claimed the skies was his dragon, and Merrik was its human. They were soulmates, best friends, companions, one.

More than 2 decades ago, when Merrik was just a little boy, he was brought down into a damp, dark cellar in the depths of his family's manor. There, he received an egg. From within that egg came a voice, though not one any other person would hear, unless it so chose to be heard. Within that egg was a hatchling nightmare dragon, the same drake upon which Merrik sat at that very moment. The dragon was given to him by a strange, mysterious old man who called himself The Oracle. This man changed Merrik's life, shifted his path of fate to one of severity and ultimatum. His life for the next two years was leading up to this moment, this cool spring morning.

Today, Merrik was going to form an army, a re-birthed order of old, summoned up again to bring forth a the great protectors of Illos. Today, Merrik was going to change the lives of a group of individuals, the very same individuals that stood a hundred feet below him in the center of a coliseum. Behind the doors that lined the walls of the coliseum were more dragons. More disbelief shattered by flesh and blood. Two years ago, Merrik had once again been summoned into that musky cellar where The Oracle appeared once agian. This time, Merrik didn't receive one egg; he received an entire clutch, each one a different color, texture and size.

From those eggs hatched dragons, one of each of the draconic species, apart from the Nightmares. Those hatchlings had spent the last two years of their lives growing and learning from Merrik and his dragon, Obsidian Nova. They were being trained and prepared for this very day, this moment. Each of the drakes behind those heavy wooden doors lacked a piece of its soul, a part of it that could never have been filled. Not until now.

The group of people standing, uncertain in the middle of the coliseum, were chosen long ago, though they could not have known it. The Oracle had selected them at birth, when their souls entered into their bodies with their first breath. Each soul chosen, was the missing half of one of the dragons below. And today, those two souls would collide and fuse together, changing the fate of Illos forever.

"They know so little of what is to come." Came Merrik's soundless voice from his own mind into the dragon's.
The less they know, the less they can fear and fight what is to be. Though we know that each of the humans below is the soulmate of one of our yearlings, the yearlings do not know for certain. They believe that these are mere potential candidates for the bond. They will test them just as a wild dragon would have tested the first of the dragonlords so long ago. The humans will pass these tests, of this we have been assured by The Oracle. Everything is set into motion.

Let their oblivion be their guide, for both dragon and human. Let the bond work in its natural ways, it will give them strength in the long run. The humans MUST prove themselves to their drake, not only for tradition's sake, but to unlock the power that hides within their blood. Tamers are not made, they are born at the very moment a dragon's soul awakens. In that moment, the two become connected, separated only by distance and time. The tamers have an ancient magic within their veins, though they do not know it yet.

Today, the bond with unlock that magic and change their lives forever. We should not delay it any longer.

Obsidian Nova had a way about him that commanded submission and trust. There was no one else in the world that could calm and reassure Merrik in such a way as the black dragon. Nova had an ancient wisdom to him that came with being a direct descendant of one of the first bonded dragons of the Order of Old. Though merely 21 by age, the dragon's wisdom went on for centuries. Merrik agreed without a word or thought.

With perfect intent-directed synchrony, the dragon descended, lowing the pair and coming to rest on a great stone perch that sat at the head of the coliseum. As the dragon's talons touched down on the stone and his great wingspan retracted to a resting position, Merrik stood up from his place at the base of Nova's neck and slipped down off the dragon's back without a sliver of difficulty, landing on the thick, stone perch below.

The attention of the visitors in the centre of the round mass of earth focused on him. Some eyes shone with excitement, others with a sly intent, and others with a plain annoyance. There was too much personality within that circle for Merrik to handle all at once. He silently thanked the gods of old that he didn't have to get up close and personal with the entire group just yet. For now, the focus of attention was on dragons, and Merrik was completely at home in the realm of dragons.

"You have all be told of your purpose for standing her today. I can understand if some or many of your minds linger in disbelief, this is an event of dreams and myth. But make no mistake, you are here to become heroes, legends, and leaders. You are here to become one with beasts of old, powerful creatures not seen in these lands for hundreds of years." He walked to the end of the perch, balancing casually on the round, stone hold.

"The doors that surround you are the temporary dens of the dragons of Illos. The doors will open in a few moments. You must all be strong, be fast, and be brave. Today, you become dragon tamers."
Then, Merrik's deep green eyes became twice as vibrant as any human's and he swirled his right index finger in a curious manner, concentration clear on his expression. The doors slid open, lifting up to reveals cascading plumes of steam as the temperature difference made itself apparent. The cool morning air welcomed the sound of wingbeats, too many to count, as a mass of dragons shot out of the dark spaces and soared up into the air. Flames of every color decorated the skies, scaled beasts of every shape, size and color bolted about before peeling off from the group and honing in on select individuals.

One of the dragons shot a jet of colored flame down at the ground, nearing searing one of the soon-to-be tamers. The tests had begun.

Merrik and Nova watched silently as the young dragons they had raised from hatchlings attacked, questioned, chased, scared, and tested the group of visitors. Each was seeking a human worthy of their soul, of their life, of their bond. Each would find a human, though they did not know it, and until then, they would test their worthiness endlessly. Merrik pitied the men and women below, for they had not been informed of what the bond was, nor were they informed of the fact that the tests the dragons subjected them to would look more like an attack than anything, despite the fact that the drakes would not actually harm them. This pity went away mere moments after it arrived as Nova's presence in his soul shifted with the drake's emotion. Any amount of terror and confusion was worth the bond of dragon and tamer.
Combat Event Guide
+Steps+
1. GM Scenario Introduction.
2. Player Response. Combat Begins.
3. GM Response to Combat. Required die roll will be presented.
4. Player Response. Player Roll. Player may close combat.
5. GM Combat Close Response (if necessary)
+Basics Behind the Rolls+

Three Types of Opponents: Basic, Challenging, and Boss.
Basic: Just classic battling. It is generally expected that your character can handle this with general ease.
Challenging: These will require higher rolls and a bit of strength in whatever technique the character uses to attack.
Boss: These will require the best rolls, the most creativity, and the best weaponry/spells/approaches suited to the character.

Three Types of Character Approaches: Strength, Weakness, Long Shot.
Strength: The character attacks within their class/strength/ability.
Weakness: The player attacks in a class/ability that they are not necessarily comfortable or entirely skilled at.
Long Shot: The player is being an idiot and doing something that would never work unless the die gods are on their sides.

+How Opponent Types and Character Approaches work together+
BASIC OPPONENT
Strength Base Roll: 12
Weakness Base Roll: 14
Long Shot Base Roll: 16

CHALLENGING OPPONENT
Strength Base Roll: 14
Weakness Base Roll: 16
Long Shot Base Roll: 20

BOSS OPPONENT
Strength Base Roll: 18
Weakness Base Roll: 20
Long Shot Base Roll: 25 (requires stat bonus)

NOTE: In a boss battle, there will be much more discretion for creativity and teamwork between players. Successful rolls will mean successful hits, NOT kills. Furthermore, for boss rolls, because they are much more difficult, the player will get a 'second chance' roll if their first roll is not successful.
In Step 3, where the GM presents the required roll, it will have the relevant stats already added in and will be presented in a manner to explain the reason the roll is what it is. Stats are applied by level of skill, as portrayed:
5% = Beginner ----> No Mod
10% = Applicable ----> No Mod
20% = Novice ----> +1
30% = Adept ----> +2
45% = Advanced ----> +3
50% = Expert ----> +4
65% = Sage (Mortal Mastery) ----> + 5

Example:
Shirin Vs. Challenging Opponent, Strength (Longsword)
Base Roll: 14
35% in long sword, +2 Bonus
14% in valor, +1 Bonus
14% in strength, +1 Bonus.

14 - 2 - 1 - 1 = 10 Required.

The player will then post a blank post with "Rolling..." posted and then roll a 20 sided dice (D20) on that post. Then the player will post a SECOND post with their response in accordance with how their roll went. They can wrap it up themselves (Step 4), or the GM can add a post in at the end to wrap it up accordingly.

WARNING: If you delete ANY POSTS in these events, I will assume you're trying to cheat and get a better roll. I don't want any explanations, I won't believe a word you say, and I'll roll FOR you with a penalty of 5 added onto the battle. This means, for example, Shirin would need a 15 instead of a 10. If you make a mistake, for example, roll a D6, or roll twice. LEAVE IT. I have eyes. I can see the mistakes.

[spoili][/spoili]

Mowkie · Feb 28, 2017

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Pomona couldn't even think of a way to argue with Goliath and Reverie as they made their decisions to attempt to draw out the darkness using their combined mana. After all, she had very little knowledge on magic, and what little knowledge she had, she couldn't seem to wrap her head around. She was a warrior, not a mage, and her sword was the very essence of her comfort. She hadn't expected the strange moss to do anything, of course, so when it seemed to just split and move around her blade, she had just shrugged and moved back a couple of steps from the throne to give the pair enough space. "I wish I could help you two, somehow...but all I can do is wish you luck. I will be here when the time comes, as will we all. For Illos!"

The chanting began, and the two started their combined spell. It didn't take too long for darkness to descend, slamming against everyone in an instant. Reverie and Goliath took the brunt of it, and their screams only illuminated the curse of darkness that took over Pomona's mind suddenly. Her body trembled as she found herself not before the darkened throne in the castle of Kuhl, but standing on the burning steps of her home in Otamur.

Standing...staring...at the scene that had haunted her memories for ten years.

The scene of death and despair...the sound of the final wails of her precious daughter as she drew her last breaths atop her father's chest.

Darkness. Screaming. Despair. Ultimate sorrow.

She felt her body fall to its knees, her sword wretched from her grasp. She let out an agonized cry as her darkest memories flooded her en masse. She wasn't like Merrik, who drew upon the darkness already in his mind, already connected to his dragon. She was afraid, lonely, and weak. A simple woman with no business being in something like the Order. She should have died in Otamur ten years ago. Died with her baby and her beloved husband.

~Pomona! Pomona, stay with me! You have.........break through.......hear me?!~

Katla's voice was broken and distorted in Pomona's memories, but her words seemed to shatter the darkness that was consuming the warrior just enough. Her dulled eyes brightened again as they came upon the shadow of Ogual. Her heart pounded as she drew upon the thread of mana that attached her to her dragon, who seemed to breathe a sigh of relief into her thoughts. Her skin began to glow ever-so-faintly, and though she had no sword, she threw herself at the shadow that had now gone for Merrik, screaming with a mixture of terror, pain, and determination, ripping off the tendril of moss that had wrapped itself around her leg as she attempted to slam into the shadow creature.

~Pomona, be careful!~

"YOU WILL NOT HARM OUR LEADER!" the warrior screeched as she drew more and more mana, throwing her own raw energy into the fray, hoping and praying to whatever god or goddess would listen for it to work. With a deep breath, she imagined the biggest flame she could think of, putting her hands together in the hopes of conjuring a ball of fire to force the creature to back off. Though she knew that her mana wouldn't work, she tried desperately. "No one deserves the suffering you force on them! YOU MONSTER!!" And, whether she had the fireball or not, Pomona lifted her hands up and slammed them down at the shadow, letting her own rage and sorrow go with it.

Rainjay · Mar 3, 2017

The room that they now entered was nothing like the descriptions Illyria had read of in her books. The former appearance of the Sylvian throne room was now marred, though it's current state was a marvel of it's own. As distracted by the rot and remains in the halls leading up to the room itself, Illyria was just as distracted now as she examined the strange moss and the darkness in the air around them. Inexperienced as she was, she could not begin to imagine what enemy could be lying in wait for them here. Or, perhaps, it was not an enemy. Was it a trap? An illusion? She glanced over her shoulder towards the entryway, wondering if they should leave. But she remained quiet, watching the other tamers poking and prodding until Reverie and Goliath stepped forward.

This is a bad idea, Saira had thought. But she didn't object and the time for speaking had passed. The two tamers prepared themselves, several of the other men and women also readying themselves to give all they had to the pair. Saira felt a pang of regret inside. She knew too little of mana to understand yet how to assist another. She was helpless, and she despised the feeling. Instead she took a slow, deep breath, and aligned her bow so that it pointed towards the throne, one of her knives clutched in her right hand between the wood and her palm. She was sure that whatever Goliath and Reverie unveiled--and it truly felt as though something was hiding in the room among the shadows and in the heaviness of the air--would appear at the throne, for it was a seat of power, even if only symbolically.

Goliath's shouting broke the silence, and then, like high tide ocean waves crashing into shore, it broke over the others, an immense darkness that flooded them near instantly. Illyria fell to her knees as her fingers clawed at her scalp, digging into skin in response to the rush that barraged them. Her stomach went sour, her head ablaze with pain she had never felt with the worst of her migraines. Such agony was beyond the young woman, and her will to fight it sapped away near instantly. Her protection ward wavered and then broke, and although her now-severed connection to Goliath and Reverie lessened the pain, she still curled in on herself, her only discernible thought being how grateful she was not to be them.

Saira had never felt a misery like that that attacked them now. The sudden blow of it sent her stumbling back a few steps, and she bowed her head as though she could power through it like a heavy wind. Darkness came into her from the back of her mind, bringing with it her deepest fears, darkest thoughts and most dreaded memories. Suddenly, she could see his face, vivid in the forefront of her mind, her arrow protruding from between his eyes and dripping crimson. The last time she saw her father, his arm twisted black and blue, bone and flesh in open air, his sword reduced to a twisted piece of steel. The scores of men and women she had seen at Ylandre, at Kuhl. Bodies, some beyond identification. She imagined her family among them--little Alya, reduced to shreds.

She saw Raya... What they said was Raya. It couldn't have been her, so pale, so still...

You're a little bird. My little bird. And you'll keep me safe always, right Santha?

Always.

Her heart broke. And then, the misery shattered into fury. It had been so long since such an anger had overcome her, and even though she knew it wasn't real, it was simulated emotion from whatever this unseen force was, it enraged her. She wanted nothing more than to destroy whatever did this to them.

By the time the others had risen to their feet and begun to gather themselves together again, Saira had her bow readied once more, and as the shadow-figure began to emerge, she began to fire as though she had tied her anger to the shafts of the arrows.

White · Mar 6, 2017

The piercing headache soon found itself accompanied with a looming darkness encircling her heart, like a past that was once cast off. A hate of many shades, of broken promises, of treason, of souls died in battles past and all Reverie could do was giggle. A shadow of hate, a cloak, a cloak that could not measure up to that which she once felt about her past, to shield her, all the guilt. It was so similiar, it would have once meant an end to her life, all of this sickening hate burdened ontop of the fragile structure of guilt.

Hate? hate could never grasp her heart, for all her experiences, fears, the trauma she once had, it could never compare and everytime it seeked, that pure center would soothe, mend and wash away all the hate, wash all the things that this evil could spell. She heard Celeste yelp in pain, reach for her mentaly, grasp, shield, protect. Reverie felt as if she reached out inside, like giving a hand to her fellow companion, the other half of her that the darkness threatened to harm and upon this kind of touch, the two sides stood together, standing brighter and purer than before against this.
She knew, from the bottom of her heart, even if the whole world would hate her, she would still love, care for them.

The darkness disapeared from her heart and the young tamer found herself stumbling backwards, moss growing towards her and then, like tendrils grabbing and groping towards her. Dizzy, she felt something wrap around her throat from the back, the neck, barely catching a breathe before she found herself in the air hanging.
She felt Celeste's presence giving, supporting, somehow, like moving energy, mana, to her and the headache got weaker, almost disappearing. She struggled with her feet in the air, only calming with a strange and foreign humm in her mind, in Celeste's tone of voice.
Adrenaline pushed through her as thoughts raced. The moss absorbed the fire, so fire, air, water, earth are unlikely to help here. It feels dark, filled with the hate and trying to direct it into her from where skin contact is happening.
This time, she extended that strange thing from her heart and like a transparent, barely shiny bodysuit it surrounded her just as all colour disappeared from her skin. The tendril, like in shock, released her just enough for her to slip through. She landed on her feet, Pale, almost like dead from the lack of air and even more extensive use of mana. Her eyes gazed the being, swift and vicious, full of hatred. In a thoughtless effort and with that pure shield... out of impulse and mindless insanity, she attempts a run-at-it-and-give-it-a-good-tight-purifying-hug-attack in hopes it would soothe the hatred and make this thing go away.

(Goddamnit. I am sorry, but this makes me laugh way too much. I HAVE TO hahahaha .I am expecting that this needs be edited haha. was worth it while it lasted. I blame the hospital :))

Soulserenity20 · Mar 11, 2017

Pomona's attack was fueled by rage, the very attack Merrik was constantly advising against. Mana was created in the mind but molded by the emotions. Controlled emotions meant controlled mana but Pomona's attack was anything but controlled. Despite her lacking much of the training the other tamers had, what came naturally to all tamers was fire and Pomona's amethyst flame swelled up into a large orb before exploding forward, sending her flying back. The flame burst hit the shadow, causing it to shriek, the first and only sound it had made thus far. It rushed forward, flitting across the ground in an unnatural way, to put some distance between it and the attack. Merrik fell to the ground, working as quickly as he could to heal himself from the burns he sustained from the powerful fire attack. He growled in pain as the flesh fought against him to boil and burn. Avren ran to him and forced waves of healing mana onto the Dragonlord but in a moment, he screamed in a shrill tone and crawled back. "Merrik, it's back!" He shouted, summoning up bolts of fire to shoot at the creature. These were simply deflected with a calm wave of the shadow's hand. It was entirely calm once more, walking forward to where Merrik lay, his face and neck now almost fully healed from the sharp burst of mana from Avren.

Just as it approached him, Merrik got to his feet, only to be shoved aside by Reverie who was targetting the Shadow head on. She ran forward and unleashed a powerful purifying attack. Merrik tried to stop her, call to her that he was too powerful but instead he watched as she was consumed by a dark veil of shadows. The dark being hovered over the cocoon of darkness. Inside Reverie would suffer a horrendous nightmare, filling her with terror. The Shadow fed off of this suffering, or at least it seemed to grow stronger. Holding out its hand over the dark mass, thin tendrils floated up to the being and seemed to absorb into it. Merrik growled angrily before diving into an attack. He called forth the most powerful for of his anti-fear mana and worked to surround Reverie with it, fighting the darkness the Shadow had delivered. Avren had somehow overcome his fear and now stood next to Merrik, delivering sharp daggers of ice, stone, and fire mana at the being. Merrik could feel his strength draining as he pushed the brute of his mana into saving Reverie from the Shadow. "Goliath!" He growled through clenched teeth. "Deliver an anti-mana attack! We need to get Reverie out of there. It's feeding off of her!"

Merrik knew fear mana. It was in the heart of his bond. Darkness, fear, shadows. He knew the effects of such magick and feared Reverie may never recover from the trauma she faced inside the sphere of darkness. Merrik was fighting with everything he had but the shadow was powerful, as if it had festered in the fear and death of the Great Capitol for all these years and grown strong in its wake. Hatred was all that lived here now. Hatred and the few friends it welcomed: fear, death, and suffering.

Merrik realized then that he could not fight the beast with hatred any longer. "It thrives off of hatred and fear... " he mumbled to himself. "We... Avren!" He looked over at his comrade. "Who are you fighting for? Deliver your attack in their names! Concentrate on why you're here, but do no fight hatred with hatred, nor fear with fear." He shouted to the others then. "Time to use your meditative practices for something more relevant! Focus your mana away from the hatred, fear, and suffering that's inside of you. We all have it. But we are feeding it with every attack by fueling our mana with emotions of fear and hatred and vengeance. We need to-" A powerful tendril of moss struck Merrik in the chest and sent him flying across the room. He heard a rib crack and Reverie screamed from within the cocoon now that Merrik's defense had abandoned her. Avren was horrified, stuck between trying to face the Shadow on his own and tending to Merrik. He chose the former and swallowed his overwhelming fear.

"I fight for freedom and the right of future generations to love the Illosian Lands as I have." He calmed himself with a moment of deep breathing and summoned the strength of the greens that had been forced from the gardens and streets of the ancient city. The roots remained deep in the earth and they welcomed his call. Thick, old roots from ancient trees began climbing the walls of the castle and when they entered, they attacked the moss. "Oh." He hadn't expected that. He had intended the attack to target the shadow, but it seemed the vengeance of the fallen wilds had a different attack in mind. He quickly distanced himself from the shadow, realizing he could only do what he could could and what he could do was help with the moss.

Meanwhile, Merrik was recovering. He sat on the floor, healing his cracked rib, but more importantly, centering himself and controlling his emotions. He had come here for Terria. He had come full of hatred, looking for someone to kill in her name, looking for someone to pay for her abduction. He had come here, and he had made the Shadow stronger. He refocused his emotions into a lighter place, where he fought from the opposite side of the spectrum, fighting through the love he had for Terria instead of the hatred he had for her captor. He fought for the lives of his beloved tamers, not the suffering and death of Shirin and Dalaith. When he felt the pain recede from his rib, he opened his eyes and moved forward, summoning dark mana that wove like a web around him, shielding him from the moss tendrils that attacked him from either side. He moved forward and summoned up orbs of dark flames with tendrils of darkness swimming about, and he threw one as hard as he could at the Shadow. The orb hit its target in the head and the Shadow staggered back, shocked at the attack. The cocoon flickered, and as Merrik threw two more orbs, the Shadow let go of the cocoon entirely as its face twisted into an angry expression and it moved to assault Merrik once more.

Mowkie · Mar 16, 2017

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Having never expected such a blast to be fueled by her hands, Pomona was caught completely off guard by the intense power of her own flame. As her body flew backwards like a ragdoll, she felt satisfaction and confidence well up within her before the guilt of harming her leader took over. Then, darkness consumed her as she slammed against the wall hard enough to make dust fly outward towards the center of the room. Her head slammed hard against the stone, and while it was protected by a helmet, the whiplash was enough to knock her unconscious.

When she came to, it was a few moments afterwards. Someone new was the target of the shadow, and it almost seemed to have grown larger. Merrik was speaking and attempting to cast some sort of spell. She was dizzy, and her ears rang, but Pomona was able to hear bits and pieces of Merrik's speech. What she was able to decypher, she wasn't sure she could manage. Stay away from fear, hatred, and vengeance? How could she do that? After all, that's all she had felt since leaving Otamur. That's all that had driven her. Fear that she would die a death as horrible as the one her family had suffered. Hatred of the monster who made them suffer so. Vengeance on that monster...so that, one day, she could know that her loved ones finally rested peacefully.

She had no one. Nothing to fight for. Nothing to love and cherish...no one whose name she could call upon to wield her magic. All she knew was vengeance.

Watching Merrik get struck down by a tendril of moss, Pomona's eyes widened at the fury that built inside of her heart. Of course! She did have someone to fight for! Only when the anger hit her again did she realize this. She fought for the Order. For her leader and her comrades. She fought for Katla and the other dragons, so that they might live and bring about a new age of dragon kind. She fought for a world filled with the light that only such things could bring.

Slowly, she rose, fighting against the ringing in her ears and the unsteadiness in her legs. Her ribs and back screamed in pain, and her head was buzzing so loudly that she couldn't possibly hear her dragon's voice. For the moment, her thoughts were lonely ones. But filled with a determination she had not felt in more than ten years.

Watching as Avren called upon old roots to fight the dark moss that had surrounded her and many of the others, she took a deep breath against the pain. The warrior turned her gaze to the shadow creature and put her hands together in a cup form. "For the vision of a world filled with dragons, and for the lives of the innocent still left in these lands!" With a yell that made her head spin, she drew upon her mana once more and forced a violet flame to form within her hands. It took a few moments for the fire to build up into any sort of effectiveness, and the time that she took allowed Merrik to attack the shadow, which released Reverie from its cocoon.
Finally ready, she shouted towards Merrik, "Incoming!" Giving him a few seconds to move out of the way, she fired the ball of amethyst flame at the shadow's head. Unlike her last attack, this one was more controlled, but not nearly as powerful or explosive. Whether or not it would even do any damage had yet to be seen.

Chrome · Mar 17, 2017

Goliath crashed into the stone that framed the wall by the door, his helmet clanged as the soldier hit the back of his head and collapsed onto the stone surface of the room. His sword remained embedded in the throne, the shadowy mass of moss moved around the anti-mana imbued weapon with ease but had not removed the lingering energy that began to slowly leak around and spread from its confines.

Sprawled on the ground face down, the sudden impact and exhaustion finally set in. Behind his helmet the soldier was unconscious, and his heart felt the hatred in the room as his mind wandered through the black. Goliath had taken the retaliation from the enemy in full force, and it was unforgiving.

<Don't fall asleep on me now numbskull!!>, Hezekiah's voice filled the black void of Goliath's consciousness, <You still have a job to do!>, the dragon was frantic as he felt the link with his tamer flicker and fade out of existence.

<WAKE UP GOLIATH!>, the dragon screeched into the void of hatred that drowned his tamer.

The soldier could hear his dragon companion, he could hear the other tamers as they fought on, he could hear the commander bark orders for him to use another anti-mana attack; but his mind and body remained unresponsive to his desires. In truth, Goliath had used far too much of his mana during the course of several days during the battle, and it seemed his physical form had been stretched far beyond its limit with his combined efforts alongside Reverie. Motionless as the fighting raged on, unable to assist his friends against the shadowy figure.

Hezekiah paced around the courtyard, the other dragons moved quickly out of his way as the worried Iron Dragon tried to hang on to his link with his tamer. He was frustrated, unable to enter The Keep because of his enormous body, and unable to swoop in to rescue his tamer before the silent knife of death would slice the man's throat. Hezekiah focused and tried to remember the meditation training he had learned at the monastery months ago, but after several deep breaths the dragon had an extremely hard time trying to relax. <If I can get this damn meditation thing to work, maybe ill be able to wake Goliath from inside our heads?>, he spoke aloud and looked to the other dragons for advice.

H....hh....Hez, Goliath managed to untangle his thoughts briefly as he tried to communicate with the other half of his soul.
The soldier was almost certain he wasn't dead because he could still hear Merrik yelling for support, but his body felt like it was underwater, weighed down by the pressure as he sank further down into the black. Faint and in the far reaches of the darkness he saw a small light, which began to grow bigger as Goliath continued to sink.

Now is not your time Brave One, the soothing voice of the White Mare echoed and disrupted the shroud of hatred, Stay with us Goliath Atreus, ...help is coming soon. She continued to send her voice to him through the bond she had bestowed upon him as a reward for his honesty and loyalty, Hold on dear friend, your story isn't over..... it has only just begun.

The soldier held on to each word, and the sinking feeling subsided as he floated amidst the nothingness.

Rainjay · Mar 17, 2017

By the time the ringing in her ears had finally subsided, the Order had begun the fight--perhaps their final fight for Kuhl. Through bleary eyes, Illyria saw the shadowed creature at the center of the combat, with Merrik at the Order's head. She staggered to her feet, the brightness of mana making it hard to see until she rubbed her eyes clear, but didn't have any more time to collect herself before she was thrown off her feet and against the room's wall. The world before her burst into stars. She gasped, sliding to the ground once more as what hit her swung back, leaving a burning pain in her stomach where it struck her. Through the stars she could see it, a long fuzzy tendril, coming back towards her.

Ria, you must move!

She forced her leaden limbs to move and threw herself to the side, leaving the tendril to smash itself into the wall where she had just been. Her head was screaming, and she felt consumed by fear and hate... but that voice in her head wouldn't let her lay down and sleep. As the tendril began to move again, Mirazh screeched in her mind and she scrambled away again.

She could now see little bits of green breaking off from the tendril as it slammed into the throne room's wall, her vision slowly recovering. ... The moss? The moss had come to life. Tendrils of it were whipping around the room, assaulting the Order from all four corners.

"Oh shit," It was coming back again. "Why can't you just leave me alone," she whined--but it wasn't interested in listening. She hastily hauled herself to her feet and darted away from it's sweeping attack, stumbling back against the wall where her palm landed on something hard and rough. With a startled squeal she jerked her hand away only to realize that it wasn't attacking her, and as she leaned forward for a closer look, realized it wasn't moss. It was wood. Roots. They crawled along the walls and tangled with the moss, strangling it wherever it could get a good grasp. She followed the length of the roots along the wall, over the ceiling and spotted Avren.

Well I'll be, she thought.

"Watch out!" Illyria glanced up just in time to see a second tendril swinging down towards her face. She ducked under it, and in true fashion, the tendril swung over her head and into a tangle of roots against the wall where the roots began striking out.

She grinned. She'd never seen nature do quite what Avren could get it to do, would be damned if she could ever replicate his brilliance, but pressed her hands against the exposed root and pushed her mana through it, encouraging it the best she could to grow stronger.

Rainjay · Mar 21, 2017

This anger hurt. It didn't matter how many arrows she fired, the pain stung all the same. When she reached back and her fingers closed around empty air, the world around her turned red. Her arrows did nothing to this enemy, who simply seemed to phase right through the projectiles like mist, and now they lay scattered on the throne room's floors, out of reach, and useless besides. There was simply nothing she could do against this foe. Nothing. In frustration she threw down her bow, not unlike a child in a tantrum, leaving it to slide into a corner as she pressed her palms to her head and let her fingers tangle into her hair. It was as though everything in the last year had come crashing back, all the uncertainty and fear and loss and struggle and--

Hope. There was hope in there, too. Hope was what kept them going after the surprise at Ylandre, and the sight of the carnage they left behind. Hope was what drew crowds in Espella, hundreds craning their necks to catch a glimpse of their saviors. Hope is what kept the Order laughing at dinner over drinks, joking during training, racing and pushing themselves harder and harder with each following day. The positivity most days was infectious, there even as they rested at night, exhausted after another day of war in Kuhl and anticipating nothing but another tomorrow. It was there as they entered this room, knowing without a doubt that something sinister was waiting for them.

Something sinister indeed that shadow-creature was to take away that hope from them and replace it with all that they fought against.

Slowly, she began to calm. She could almost feel Aerarya's touch through the bond, the silver dragonness wanting nothing more than to soothe her tamer and lacking the means to do anything other than make herself known to her best friend. It was Aerarya, she realized, who reminded her of their purpose. Of why she remained here, with the Order, with all her doubts and fears. For want of something better.

"Who are you fighting for? Deliver your attack in their names! Concentrate on why you're here, but do no fight hatred with hatred, nor fear with fear."

Her resolve strengthened, Saira picked herself up, dodging the tendrils to scoop up her bow. She swung it over her shoulders, pulling the two small blades from their place at her waist and after their comforting weight settled securely in her palms, she started to weave through the moss closer to the shadow-creature. She drew on her mana as she moved, in one hand forming a large sphere of air, and in her other, a sphere of fire. Her arrows had not worked, and so she would try mana instead, putting her heart and soul into creating an attack with strength she'd infrequently attempted before. Before, she'd rarely reveled in the feeling of the mana between Aerarya and herself, thinking of it moreso a tool than what it was--the physical proof of their bond, of all the good the Order had given to her. Now, she let herself enjoy the feeling as she continued to duck past the tendrils, past Illyria and the other tamers until she stood not far from Merrik and the others closer to the throne.

As the shadow-creature began to recover itself, Saira put her two hands together, the combining sphere not as large as Pomona's firey assault but heavy, a combination of high pressure and heat. "We are stronger than your darkness!" She threw the orb at the shadow-creature, hoping to turn it's attention from Merrik, and then a formed a second. "You can't hurt us anymore!"

Soulserenity20 · Mar 26, 2017

The shadow took several hits and this time, when impact came, the shots rang true and knocked the being back. It staggered, shocked that the attacks had done any damage at all, but as it processed the new slew of attacks, its figure grew darker, and a black haze seemed to exude from its form. Merrik was beginning to feel the bulk of his mana eroding as he worked tirelessly to assault the foe, maintain the protective wards he had placed on the others to stifle their fear, and to continue healing his injuries until they were strong enough to hold until later. The room was utter chaos. All around him, massive vines battled against the black moss as tamers worked to allocate their mana attack towards the shadow. The being had forgotten about Reverie but had gone back to focusing almost entirely on Merrik. It attacked him with such a primal hatred that each strike, each time the being made contact, made Merrik feel uneasy, despite his best efforts to focus on the battle. His mana was beginning to waver and if he had any choice in the matter, he would have pulled back to center himself and refocus his mind. But he would have no such luck today. The attacks intensified, it seemed, as the shadow took damage. For every bit weaker it grew, it also grew more aggressive, as if clinging more and more desperately to its existence.

Merrik summoned up a massive orb of dark mana, infusing it with his dark flame, delivering them into the mass with the intent and purity of his bond, for his bond above all gave him reason to fight, reason to destroy the darkness before him. Outside, Obsidian Nova roared out into the air, his dark mass visible as it passed by the large windows at the end of the throne room. For the entirety of the battle Nova had been aggressively pacing, infusing Merrik's soul with his most potent and powerful mana, feeding dark substance through the windows to help supplement Merrik's waning capabilities and as Merrik drew out the strength of his bond, Nova delivered all the might of his dragon soul forward into the attack.

The orb hit almost exactly as a strike from Pomona and Saira did and it consumed the dark shadow in a darkness not his own and for a moment, Merrik held his breath, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. His body was tense, sweat running down his dirtied skin, his armor smelled of battle, his muscles blazed in exhaustion after weeks of war and as the orb began to fade and the fires faded, the shadow was revealed, and it looked weak. Upon a bent knee, the shadow appeared as a heaving man, struggling to hold his position, his dark body now significantly more transparent, as if fading away with defeat. Merrik's expression shifted to one of hope and as he turned to deliver a command for his tamers to finish the battle, the shadow surged forward and forced itself into Merrik's very soul.

The Dragonlord's eyes darkened, his body tensed and convulsed and a painful scream emitted from his throat, raw and agonizing. In a moment, his composure shifted and he opened his eyes to reveal only darkness, as black as the Shadow's form. His expression was dark, filled with hatred, and lacked any semblance of humanity that once existed there. The elder Tetra was no longer the man the tamers had come to know, rather a vessel for the darkness the Order faced. It took seconds for the attack to resume and with a violent vigor, the darkened form of Merrik leaped forward, drawing his sword and swinging heavily towards Saira aggressively, summoning forth a vicious string of dark mana that wrapped around his figure like hellish snakes.

Avren scream when he saw the attack and the black eyes of his leader. He scream and for a moment, he felt an overwhelming need to vomit and flee but instead he dove forward. As he did, the roots that had been summoned to fight seemed to respond to Avren's desperate desire to protect Saira and they lashed forward, surrounding the Silver Tamer and deflecting Merrik's attack. When Merrik's blade landed on the roots, his blade bore deep and in a second he withdrew to hack away at the roots again.

Avren willed the roots to collect his arms and legs to prevent him from attacking but the Nightmare Tamer's own mana tendrils tore at the roots and restrained them. Merrik turned to Avren then and delivered a slew of fireballs, black orbs of fiery hatred, forcing the tamer to break his attention on the manipulation of the roots. Merrik advanced on the Forest Tamer, lifting his sword to deliver a devastating strike as Avren struggled to defend himself against the powerful orbs of fire his leader fired at him.

Mowkie · Mar 27, 2017

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It was as though all time had stopped for a moment as darkness and colorful flames engulfed the creature. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath to see if the battle was finally over. All save for Avren, who continued to battle the moss with his powerful use of the vines. When everything cleared, and the shadow was much less opaque than before, resting on its knees seemingly in defeat, Pomona glared at it as her ringing mind finally began to clear a little.

Katla was calling to her, and her violet form could be seen every now and then through the windows as she flew outside in dismay.

~I am here, Katla. Just a moment.~

The dragoness quieted as Merrik turned to give an order. In a rush, the unthinkable happened. Pomona gave a gasp, her mind growing foggy as she attempted desperately to process what was happening. Merrik's green eyes were now orbs of darkness, and without a second to waste, he turned on his own Order.

Before she could react, he leaped for Saira only to be blocked by Avren's vines. Pomona looked around desperately for her sword, knowing that she was useless as a guardian without it. But it was still gone, swallowed by the moss and possibly lost forever. She knew she couldn't attack her leader, for without him, the Order was surely doomed to fail. When he turned on Avren, who had dived for Saira to protect her and himself, and began attacking with a surprising amount of vigor, turning to dark fire to burn away the roots.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Pomona did the only thing she could think of. Drawing on her bond, she dove between Avren and Merrik and put up her armored arms, protected also by her Diamond Skin in hopes of keeping herself alive as well. "Merrik, you have to take back control!"

Knowing this was a lost cause, she sent her mind out to Katla. ~Get Nova to push through to Merrik. Tell him that Merrik is lost to the shadow, and he must be found! We cannot attack him, but he is attacking us! Please, Katla!!~

The dragoness responded urgently, putting forth everything she had in her bond with her tamer to help reinforce the bonded ability and protect the warrior without her sword. Her mind flew to Nova, who was roaring and continuing to pace. ~Nova, reach to the deepest part of Merrik. You are our only hope to bring him back!~

Soulserenity20 · Mar 28, 2017

The attack came crashing down on Pomona with a force far gone from the human realm. The shadow within seemed to be giving Merrik a buffer that saw him delivering attacks with immense strength, and yet, as the strike collided with Pomona's raised arms, the result was impossibly less lethal than any could have expected. Despite the woman's lack of familiarity with mana and the abilities of her bond, her powerful emotional desire to protect strengthened the bonded ability and the product was one that surpassed her natural skill level. Instead of being woven by understanding, it was produced by raw and powerful emotions -- a dangerous move, but a necessary one. The attack forced Pomona to the ground and as Merrik recoiled from the blow, a root grabbed him around the neck and Avren pulled him back, lifting him from the ground as more and more roots began to warp around him.

A deep, unsettling laughter emitted from his mouth in a tone that was both his and another's. "Even without a darkness in his heart your precious leader has power enough to slaughter you all. By my hands, the Dragonlord will be a puppet to your deaths! The Order will fall and mankind will fall with it!" As it spoke, the tendrils of darkness caught fire and the blackness that resulted was powerful and angry. It fed on the roots, the darkness slithering along them as the fire consumed them. Avren summoned up what little water he could from the air in an attempt to stifle the flames but Merrik's mana overpowered the attack without effort. Within seconds, Merrik had burned through his restraints and was summoning up sharp needles of fire and darkness and he showered them down onto the tamers across the room, moving towards Avren, who seemed to be causing him the most difficulty with his roots.

Outside, Obsidian Nova had soared high into the skies to unleash powerful waves of fury as he fought the violent urges that filled him. Dragons were prone to the unrestrained emotions of humans and at current, Merrik was a pit of hatred. The Nightmare drake struggled, fighting his very soul to stop his urge to slaughter the other dragons, to slaughter the armies that surrounded the old castle. Rage pours out of him as dark flame scarred the skies and thick black smoke plumed from his maw. He had heard the plea of Katla and Pomona but he could not act, not yet, not until he overcame the hatred and pushed Merrik's emotions from his soul entirely. Not once in 20 years had he forced Merrik from his heart, so the effort required was great, but the Elder Drake fought on, internally, fighting his soulmate's hatred, the toxic stain of Ogual's darkness that had tainted Merrik's being.

Rainjay · Mar 28, 2017

Much as the realities of war were darker than the books make it seem, Illyria found the heart of battle to be hot, messy, and confusing. For each moment of clarity came a bigger calamity that left her aching head reeling. It was all she could do to jump around projectiles and keep herself largely out of the way of the other tamers, struggling to make sense of it all. The small victory with the roots was so rapidly overshadowed by the greater danger the Order was facing that a sliver of hopelessness--this time, her own--began to settle in her stomach. The thought of being so helpless compared to her peers was damning.

She watched as the tamer's attacks began to slowly wear at the shadow, she watched as it recoiled back, weakened, she watched as it lunged forward and into Merrik, and reduced their leader to a mere puppet. A dangerous puppet. Avren, Pomona and Saira were locked into a deadly dance with the tamer who, of which Illyria had no doubt, could decimate the Order singlehandedly within minutes should he so choose. Odd, however, was the fact that he did not. With Pomona down the tamers had no true shield against his powerful mana attacks, and yet instead of repeating his same fiery attack at Avren, he began to shower down attacks from above while moving towards the forest tamer, dividing his attention. Perhaps it was the fault of the shadow--or perhaps, she hoped, Merrik was fighting back. And maybe slowly regaining control.

The Order could attempt to incapacitate Merrik, but the men and women who remained standing couldn't alone compete with their leader's experience and skill. Pomona was without her sword; Saira and Avren hadn't seemed particularly adept with close combat; Reverie and Goliath were downed; and Illyria had barely practiced with weaponry at all. It would be mostly on Merrik to expel the shadow from his body--she doubted any of them would be strong enough to do it for him.

With the moss mostly stifled by the roots and the rain of mana, Illyria pushed forward to Saira, assisting the redhead in freeing herself from the remnants of Avren's defenses. "What do we do?" she asked.

--

Saira didn't answer, instead shoving Illyria to the ground and out of the way as fire cascaded down where she had been standing moments before. She bit her tongue as the mana seared against her arm as it fell, burning through her clothing and to her skin. Blistering skin and burnt fabric smelled putrid, and the pain was horrid, but there was no time to stop. She jumped out of the way of another needle of Merrik's dark mana and hauled Illyria to her feet by the woman's shirt collar. "Move!" she exclaimed, before running past towards Avren, who now seemed to be facing the brunt of Merrik's wrath.

He'd saved her--she owed him a debt. The forest tamer was truly shaping up into a bigger man than he was when she first saw him.

And he'd die if she didn't come up with something to do to help him.

"Merrik!" she shouted. "Merrik, I know you're still in there! You have to fight it! You have to stop!" She skid to a stop in front of Avren, dangerously close to Merrik, without Pomona's protections but unsure of what else to do. She braced herself before jumping forward to attack, holding onto her two knives so tight her knuckles went bone white. "You have to be here for you sister! For the Order!"

Crimson77 · Mar 29, 2017

[fieldbox="Dark Lord, seagreen, dashed, 10, Tahoma"] When the darkness hit, Xylia fell to her knees. Her vision became blurry and the next thing she knew, instead of being in the throne room, Xylia found herself in a familiar yet unfamiliar tent.

The sounds of screaming sounded like it was echoing in her head more so than "in real time", causing her head to throb harder as the screams grew louder. A woman ran into the tent, with urgency and began packing her satchel with necessities before grabbing her arm painfully and urged her to follow her immediately. When Xylia refused to move, a man picked her up into his arms and ran out from the camp. Looking past the man's shoulder, Xylia saw a dark shadow looming the camp, people flying and being attacked by an unknown force.

The next thing Xylia knew, she found herself face first on the ground. As she looked forward, she saw the woman in a similar position as her. The words the woman cried to her were muffled and all she could make out was "run, Xylia..." Xylia stumbled across the roots of trees and pass unnecessarily long vines, knowing the dark shadow loomed behind her, refusing to leave any hostages alive, but somehow, she made it out. The last thing she recalled was crying, hard with tears welling from her eyes refusing to stop.

"Xylia... Xylia! XYLIA!!!" The familiar voice called out.

Xylia's eyes snapped open, gasping for air. Her heart thumping heavily, to an extent it almost hurt to breathe. What happened? Xylia groaned, wiping her tears from her eyes then pushing herself off the ground.
It was a memory, wasn't it? There's been something I've forgotten... .

Upon hearing the commotion, Xylia looked up only to see Merrik ready to attack Arven and Saira running towards them. Putting two and two together, quickly, Xylia attempted to stand, but her body seemed to give way, her knees felt weak and her arms like jelly. Offering a loud grunt, she used her staff to support as she lifted herself off the ground.

"Xylia, are you alright? What's going on? Obsidian isn't stable." Deventh's voice came through clearer than before.

"I'm alright, but Deventh..." Xylia, prepped her staff, looking around to figure out what was going on. "Deventh, the Shadow of Ogual controls Merrik. There is so much evil here...Too much. Deventh, he can kill us all!"

"Calm down! Focus, Xylia. You need to help the other tamers. I will try to help my brother, go and save your leader!" Deventh ordered.

Xylia, by instinct, knew that Saira's method would get her killed. Quickly, Xylia ran behind Merrik, a distance far enough not to be seen, but close enough to get a clear shot. She quickly withdrew a pair of metal Boleadoras and threw it at Merrik, holding the talisman resting on her chest and chanted a prayer.

~*~

Offering Xylia all forms of confidence, Deventh quickly flew to where Obsidian was in order to assist him. This wasn't very hard to do as the dark flames coloured the skies. "Brother! What is going on? What is happening to you?" he questioned, hoping Obsidian was sober enough to offer a reply. Though Obsidian knew it had something to do with Merrik, Deventh really didn't have anything else to go by.

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White · Mar 30, 2017

(sorry for my late post everybody, had the worst skin rash of my life. I literally changed my skin colour from white to fully red)

She felt herself engulf into the shadows, like the blink of an eye, looking at black tendrils that wrapped themself around her. She could not move. Merrik opposed the being and it just slaughtered him with a mean gush, then Avren and Saira... The shadow looked deeply into Reverie's eyes, smiling with spite, as it stepped towards Goliath. Reverie was horrified and helpless to watch as the shadow tortured her comrades before her very eyes. She hated this, she hated feeling helpless and she was horrified to watch as bits and pieces came off. She, too, would face this fate...

Her eyes barely opened to a dark, like the shadow looking Merrik. She heard a female voice speak something, but it all was a blurr. She watched as that being striked at Pomona, when Avren's tendrils slung themself around him, saw how they burned and saw how the being now went for Saira and Avren both.
"Celeste...?" she reached out to the white dragon. "Think we can do one more last thing in this fight?" Knowing Celeste's answer intuitively, with the last bit of her physical strength, she stood up. Both communicating now without a word, both aware that this was the last they could give and if all failed and the others could not find a way, their certain death.

The first steps in a stumble, then to a sprint and a jump right from behind onto Merrik, trying to westle him down to the ground with a tackle, all while pouring all those last bits of purification, soothing, whatever good mana she could find between herself into Merrik, to weaken the beast, to make it go away.
Outside, Celeste moved up to the elder dragon, barely touching Nova as she, too purred all that was left of her into Nova. To help, to aid in whatever effort was made.
The world went black for the two of them, Reverie's body went limp. Never knowing if she made a difference or if she was going to wake up again... but she was content. The white dragon, too, fell, coming down crushing onto the ground, unconscious.

Mowkie · Mar 30, 2017

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First, one knee went down, then the other as Pomona struggled to keep the sharp edge of the blade from piercing her helmet. Never had she faced a force so inhumanly strong. It took every ounce of her energy as well as a great deal of the mana pouring from her dragon to keep the blade at bay. Even then, she could feel her top arm crack with what had to be a fracture as the metal of her armor dented and cut viciously into her flesh. When Merrik recoiled, the warrior forced herself to keep from passing out, releasing the mana and slowly getting back to her feet.

The darkness in her leader's voice made the warrior shudder, but she held her face stern and unwavering. As the tamers began to dance around the dangerous, flaming darkness that shot out and slithered from all over, she took a deep breath and watched for a moment the actions of the others, keeping herself between Merrik and Avren as best she could, ready to pour whatever energy and mana she had into protecting the only tamer that seemed to be doing any help at the moment.

When Saira launched herself at Merrik, Pomona shouted, "No, don't!" But it was too late. In a blur, so much happened. From one side, Saira was leaping. From behind came some sort of smaller weapon from Xylia as well as Reverie, who seemed to have the best intentions. Of everyone, she was the most likely to succeed here. So, in hopes of helping the young purifier, the warrior took on Merrik's front, once more drawing on her bond to protect herself from any of his blows. She wrapped her arms around his in hopes of locking them to his sides while Reverie pushed everything she had into keeping the darkness at bay. Together, they shoved and pulled their leader to his knees, and even as Reverie went limp, Pomona still held tight, her energy draining quickly.

Katla continued to plea with Obsidian Nova, flying just beneath his left wing and behind him, attempting to keep herself from his powerful, black flames. She could feel the hatred and rage pouring from him, and she knew that he was fighting it with everything he had. Knowing there was nothing she could do, she put everything she had into fueling her tamer in hopes that she could help retain some of the darkness in his heart so that, maybe - just maybe - Nova could block it enough to pull his own tamer from the evil that was Ogual.

Soulserenity20 · Mar 30, 2017

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Everything seemed to happen in the span of a breath. Saira's attack was met with a violent strike back from Merrik. His sword collided with her armor, leaving a large dent across the chest piece and with the horrid sound of bones snapping, she was deflected to the side as a smaller blade struck Merrik in a sweet spot of his armor, digging in deep to his flesh. The Tetra responded with no sign of pain, likely due to the possession, but as Pomona and Reverie encased him in their clutches, a wave of purifying mana would flood into the souls of both Obsidian Nova and Merrik as the Purification pair met the Nightmare duo. For a second, the shadow was subdued and in that second while Merrik was lost to emotion, pain, confusion and weakness, Obsidian Nova was not so weak. He seized that moment and poured immediately into a rapid dive, forcing out the shadow that lingered and pulling Merrik's native soul tightly into his own being. He dove, driven by anger but this time, it was anger of his own. He dropped from the skies so quickly he appeared as a rip in the evening sky, a black tear soaring faster and faster to the earth. He opened his wings with a sharp snap as his membrane caught the air and he angled directly into the large, stone pillars the surrounded the large windows at the end of the throne hall.

His massive body should have shattered the mighty pillars that surrounded the large windows but instead, his body flickered into a form entirely unknown. It was similar to how he disappeared in the blackness of shadows, only this time there were no shadows. Instead, the elder drake seemed to become a shadow, just as their foe had done to avoid physical attacks, and as he passed through the pillars, he re-materialized inside the open space of the throne room, leaving the structure wholly in tact.

He unleashed a wave of dark tendrils that formed a powerful, convulsing mesh that flattened the moss against the walls, seeming to suffocate it. He roared aggressively, drawn forward by rage as he quickly approached Merrik and the two female tamers. A wave of darkness pulsed through the air and both Pomona and Reverie were pushed back, as if by a powerful gust of wind and as the black eyes of their leader opened once more, Obsidian Nova roared in anger, unleashing a veil of blackness that crawled through the air like blood seeping through water. As Merrik raised up his own tendrils of darkness to attack his dragon, Nova snapped his jaws and the dark veil raced forward and encased Merrik.

The dragon's chest heaved with heavy breaths and for a moment, he only stared at the veil of darkness with blood-red eyes, his concentration as potent as ever before. From within the veil came a blood curdling scream as Merrik was subjected to the darkest of his fears, fears so powerful that they overwhelmed every region of his mind and soul. The attack was ruthless, unlike Nova had ever delivered, but it was the only way to overcome the hold the Shadow had on him.

What Merrik experienced tore him apart. He saw death, suffering, loss. His sister, bloody and mangled, a withered corpse in the chambers of Ogual's lair. He saw the rotting carcasses of the dragons, each of the yearlings, food for the vultures and the plagued beasts that roamed the lands. He saw his home burn with the rest of Illos, the blackness that plagued the North now spread across all of Illos. He stood there in failure as he looked out across a dead land and saw the Land of Origins fall to the dark lord. He saw Shirin's death, perpetuated in the back of his mind. Obsidian Nova's dying pain rang out into his ears as Ogual harvested the mana of his soul, much like the Cult of the old days did in the Red Age. Nightmare crept forward, every ounce of fear he had felt, from his childhood nightmares of the cellars of the Tetra Manor to the fear that consumed him when news of Terria's capture came to him. The pains of loss, heart-break, loneliness, death, and suffering consumed him and became all he knew.

It was through this fear that his deepest and truest desire began to grow. His bond beckoned to him, calling for him to return to the one single piece of light that could not be broken by the illusions of Obsidian Nova's nightmare ability: their unified soul. The fear Nova had put into his heart was immensely more powerful that the hatred the shadow had forced into him. Nova had put him the lowest, darkest place he possibly could, knowing that their bond would remain, even in that horrid fear. And it did. Merrik clung to the bond, clung to that sliver of light in the midst of all his worst nightmares, and as he remained in that realm of darkness, the Shadow was forced out, for it no longer had a hold on the soul so consumed by fear but secured by the bond.

When the Shadow pulled itself free of Merrik and Nova's soul, it quickly dissipated from the air, lacking the strength to manifest independently. When the dark figure faded, Nova ceased his assault and slowly, the veil of darkness receded, leaving Merrik collapsed on the ground, bleeding from the blade that was pressed into him, broken from the immense physical exertion the Shadow had forced upon his body, and stunned from the horror his mind had suffered.

------+------

The victory, that day, would not come with celebration, but with suffering.

It took hours for the tamers to recollect and aid the Queen's army in clearing the castle. When they did, Norvik and his elite set to establishing a hold while the remaining Sylvian and Calidaran armies set to clearing the rest of the city. When the Shadow faded, the moss withdrew and wilted, falling to the ground like ash and the hordes that challenged the Illosian armies retreated to the east where Ogual's lair loomed in the distant horizon. Merrik did not wake for nearly 8 days after the attack and it was another 2 weeks before he was himself again. When he woke, he found that his bond had changed and there now resided a new bonded ability between him and his beloved Obsidian Nova. The shadow form that Nova had utilized as he rushed to Merrik's aid had come as a contortion of the melding of the shadow with their soul. It was as if the bond had known, in some way, that Merrik would suffer for a lifetime from the encounter with the darkness in his soul. Instead of letting them suffer, their bond changed and adapted, making the experience a part of their strength, naturalizing the experience so that Merrik did not have to cope with the trauma.

The other tamers had received similar shifts, as if the old magick that had first brought the bond to life had heeded the desperate calls of the Order and granted them assistance in their fight against the rising darkness. Each of the pairs had grown stronger and each was granted a new bonded ability as their bond grew stronger.

For more than a week the armies remained, working tirelessly to fortify the city. The day before Merrik woke up, a wanderer would chance by the encampments outside the city and catch the attention of Queen Valaeria. He called himself Bren, and he explained that he had heard of the great battle and wished to meet the tamers. Valaeria had dismissed him at first, ordering him to be removed from the camps, but later that night, she found her best men had taken a liking the old man and had allowed him to join them for dinner. This frightened the Queen, for the disobedience of her most loyal was unheard of and while she maintained her composure, she decided perhaps the man was a dark mage or ancient entity with powerful magicks. If this was the case, only the mages of the Order of Dragon Tamers would have the means of knowing how to identify and deal with him. She ordered her men to guard him until Merrik awoke and by her luck, she was able to bring him to the Order the next day.

"Master Tetra, it is an honor to meet you. I daresay you look as though you've had better days... " The man stared at the crest on Merrik's chest plate that hung on his armor rack in the corner of the room. "It's as if we've met before, Master Tetra." Looking around at the other tamers that had collected in Merrik's tent for the meeting, he let a fond smile meet his lips. "In fact, most of you feel quite familiar."

Merrik glanced at Goliath and Valaeria, wondering if the man was simply mad in his old age. But then, he didn't look more than 50. "Er, Bren, was it? What brings you here? Are you in need of service?"

The man blinked and looked at Merrik as if the question was asked in a differently language. "Nothing of the sort, Master Tetra. Rather, I'd like to see the dragons, if you don't mind. Rumor has it you've got a black. Means you're really the Dragonlord, doesn't it? Tell me, are his teeth black too? That's how you know he's of the old blood."

Merrik's expression darkened. What the man said was true, but what concerned Merrik was the fact that a commoner could never have known such a thing. Such knowledge was found only in personal journals of tamers of Nightmare Dragons. It was possible he had found an old journal in his time, but Merrik was suspicious, nonetheless.

"I believe I can oblige that." He gestured for Avren who quickly ran to his side and helped him up. Merrik's body was weak, but he had been informed that Avren hadn't left his side since the events in the castle. He'd been healing Merrik around the clock but his body was still suffering. Once on his feet, Merrik continued to lean on Avren for assistance as he moved to the tent's door. As he walked past Pomona, he gave her a nod that told her to be on her guard. Goliath received the same gesture.

Once outside, Obsidian Nova rose and came around from the back of the tents, cocking his head to the side in surprise. "Merrik.... he is familiar. He is known."

Merrik frowned, confused, but after observing the feeling Nova had gotten, he felt just as sure as his dragon that the man was known to the Order. "Uh, Bren, this is Obsidian Nova."

"An honor, Lord of Shadows." He dipped into a low bow and then promptly stepped forward to have a look. The man showed no surprise, no caution, in fact he seemed impossibly comfortable around the dragon. "How old are you now, Lord Obsidian Nova?"

"Two decades," Nova replied.

"Wonderful. You're large for your age. Strong, too, it would seem. Have you much control over your fire? Do you work with numerous flame spouts?" Merrik's mouth dropped open and his mind went on defense.

"Bren, perhaps you might offer an explanation as to who you really are and how you've come across such knowledges about dragons." His tone was sharper than it had been, echoing his pitting suspicion.

"Oh! I'm just who I say I am.. Though, I suppose, I'm not sure where I came to this knowledge. I've loved dragons for as long as I can remember and I suppose it just comes to me."

"Merrik... he is known... trusted even." Merrik frowned, feeling no sickening feeling of distrust in his gut, feeling a foreign sense of familiarity towards the man. But his logic threatened his emotions for their ignorance. "Mirazh, Katla, do you sense distrust in your old wisdoms? What of everyone else?" Here, Nova spoke privately and referred to the uncanny ability of bonded dragons to sense things from their ancestor's lives. It was why even a year-old dragon of the Order was mature, knowledgeable, and wise. They carried the old magick of their ancestors bonds and with it came lingering knowledge from the past. It often came to the dragons as instinct. It was how they knew where their stalls were when they hatched in the meadow and how they knew Merrik was to be their protector and guide, so they should not burn and eat him as hatchlings.

All the while, Valaeria remained silent. She was uncertain of this man but since the battle she had grown to trust Merrik and the tamers. She stood near Goliath, her shadows only just visible amidst the surrounding tents, and she observed the troubling events before her. This man bothered her, but she knew she was required to learn more.

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Rainjay · Mar 30, 2017

Illyria hoped she would never see so much suffering as they did that day again in her life. Each day that followed the events in the Sylvian throne room the memories revisited her, coming back to her in her sleep and throughout the day as her headaches continued. It had been years since she'd woken up from a nightmare, but now she nightly woke up in a cold sweat, unable to sleep and as a result spent the evenings waiting for dawn in Mirazh's company. The details were what bothered her. The crack of Saira's ribs, the shrill screaming, the abhorrent shadow... Never had her memory been so sharp and vivid.

She tried to distract herself with work, but with the shadow gone, the rest of the army seemed to clear out. Already Kuhl was looking brighter. And then the arrival of a newcomer seemed to further better the moods of the men and women in the three armies, though it wasn't all smiles. The Queen herself seemed particularly agitated by the man. Illyria had yet to hear anything bad about him, though she'd seen little of him at all. When she wasn't working, she was hiding from the sun and nursing her aching head.

The only person she thought she could ask for help was Merrik--and Merrik had yet to wake. Even when he did, she didn't know how long it would be until he was back on his feet. Avren fluttered around their leader like a moth to a light, worried if anything else it seemed. It didn't seem like a positive sign. But she had every confidence in Merrik. The next time she saw him, he would be better. He had to be.

As luck would have it, it was a mere day until he woke. The news traveled fast between the tamers, and the next day Illyria found herself outside, waiting for a chance to speak with him. But the Queen got there first, with the newcomer--Bren--in tow.

Why bring him here? He can't be a threat. Just a funny old guy, Ria said.

There's something off about him, Mirazh replied. She could see him form in the skies as he approached. The encampment wasn't very large, but he managed to settle down into a tight space behind the tamer, his head above hers.

I sense no distrust, brother, the tan dragon replied to Nova. I've found nothing but a familiarity with this man since his arrival, though I don't know why.

He leaned his head downwards, peering more closely at the strange man. Do you not know who you are then, or do you mean to evade telling us with tricky words?

White · Mar 31, 2017

The sun shone brightly on the day she waked, the birds sang their songs and people bustled about their business. The world seemed so different now, as if a chapter had turned, as if... yes, as if this was haven. Had she died in their final battle? Her eyes wandered to where Celeste rested, thrawing her suspicion, seeing the white dragon still asleep and resting. She got up, changed into appropriate attire and gave Celeste a tight hug before stepping out of her tent.
Troops were relaxing, packing, eating, cheering, crying for their losses and moving about. She did not pay them much more attention and moved to the section she frequented before: the hospital ward, doing what she did before, talking to the wounded, talking to those that would most likely die to their wounds, assisting in whatever way she can.
Healing a minor wound with mana, she noticed that something changed, she could not pinpoint to what exacly it was but there was an "essence", a core to it now and not only to healing, fire did, water did and even her own soothing and even her own purification mana does. The one restriction she noticed is that she can only manipulate this core, this essence into a positive and she was certain, given enough practise, she could eventually turn and change the attribute to a manner. Water and fire that heals to name an example.
Once Celeste woke, she confided with her about it and they both choose to not share this freely for now, a secret weapon she will practise and refine and use when it becomes absolutely necessary, one Ogual should not be able to expect.

Over the days that passed, with the hospital ward empty, she found herself talking and sharing stories with the troops, specifically those she had met in the field or in the hospital ward. It was then that she heard of a strange man most of them seemed to trust. The one thing that made her suspicious and cautios was that some of the soldier themself disobeyed their queen's command to remove him from camp.

She made sure to keep inquiring on him with the troops, but not to approach him directly.

That is until he was allowed to see Merrik. Both herself and Celeste participated. Nova inquired about how the rest of the tamer felt about this Bren. Celeste replied that she herself and Reverie do not trust him at all, despite any feeling of familiarity and noted that even some of the most loyal disobeyed the queen to have him removed from camp.
Reverie meanwhile "felt" out to see if this Bren s using any form of mana to give this feeling of familiarity, she herself can soothe, so it should have some similiarities afterall.

Mowkie · Apr 2, 2017

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Katla was caught off guard by Obsidian Nova's sudden dive, her wingbeats halting for a second as she feel a few feet to avoid being hit by the much more massive dragon soaring straight for the window to the throne room. ~Nova! What are you doing?!~
It all happened so fast. One second, he was there, a solid form about to collide with the huge, stone columns, and the next, he was nothing more than a shadow, gliding through the window as though it wasn't there at all. Catching herself and hovering in place, Katla stared, awestruck. She felt her tamer's pain as she was shoved backwards by some unknown force. Then, exhaustion overwhelmed her as her tamer's mind went blank, and she found herself soaring slowly towards the ground. In the spot she landed, the great Amethyst dragoness found herself curling up and falling fast asleep.

It would take the dragon almost a full day to reawaken. In that time, both she and Pomona had been moved back to the camp, and the dragoness found herself near a small tent that her tamer had been placed in to regain her strength and heal from some of her more major injuries. Grogginess still overwhelmed her as Katla peeked her head into the tent to see her still-sleeping tamer wrapped in various bandages from head to toe. Still, she felt the need to check on the rest of the Order.

So, rising to her feet, she did so, going first to Nova to thank him for carrying her back when she was too weak to do so, herself. She gave the great Nightmare drake a bow of her head and thanked him gently, knowing his own mind was full of turmoil after all that he had gone through. Then, she checked on the others, one by one and thanked them for a great battle, sending kind and helpful thoughts.

A part of her had felt as though she had failed her tamer, who still lay silent in her own tent. Still so young and new to her bond, she couldn't help Pomona in ways that the other dragons could. And yet, she knew she had given it her all. If only there was a way for her to help protect Pomona...or at least allow the warrior to protect herself.

Another three days would pass before Pomona finally opened her eyes. Katla would not leave her side as she slowly got to her feet and was taken to Merrik's tent so that Avren would check her bandages and give her another wave of healing. Both tamer and dragon had suffered a great deal of physical and mental damage during the last battle. Their bodies were scarred from the many battles of Kuhl, but their minds were an even heavier burden for them to bear, for they had reached a critically low amount of mana having used their bonded ability for a much longer time than was safe.

By the time Merrik woke, however, they had started to feel more like themselves. Pomona's arm was healing nicely, and while Katla's wing would forever appear to be a somewhat mangled mess of scales and flesh, it - too - was regaining its strength. Both spent a great deal of time in silence, but when Merrik woke, a wave of joy filled their spirits. Even though he was not himself, they were just relieved that their leader was returning to them, and both were quite sure he would regain his spirit back with time.
All were changed after that battle. No one tamer or dragon could be the same after such a daunting experience. Still, they had grown closer as a unit, and that was something they could be proud of.

The very next day was the appearance of the stranger. Pomona hadn't paid much attention to all that had been going on within Valaeria's emcampments, so upon the introduction of the stranger named Bren, both she and Katla were caught off guard. Pomona felt her own sense of suspicion rise, even when Katla felt a wave of strange familiarity. She didn't trust this man and the things he knew. How would a simple man of Illos know so much about dragons? The pair followed Merrik, Avren, and the stranger to where Obsidian Nova stood, and they listened to all that was said. Pomona's suspicions rose, and while she still did not have a sword, she trusted more than ever the use of her own mana and was ready to use it if need be.

The familiarity that Katla felt also found itself in the instinct of the warrior, who immediately fought it off. How could she know this man? How could she trust him when he seemed to know the secrets of the Order?

Katla, who had remained silent this entire time, responded tentatively towards Merrik's questions. ~Nova is correct, Lord Tetra. This man...though his name is not known to me...he is trusted. My old wisdom tells me he is one of the greatest allies we can have.~

Surprise washed over Pomona's face as she looked towards her dragon, who had gained a look of certainty and determination. ~You're certain, then?~

~Yes. He is Ehratyn. He is a friend.~

"How is that possible, I wonder...Lord Merrik, perhaps we should look further into this matter? The dragons know best, right?" She shifted in place a moment, putting a hand on Katla's shoulder for support as she clutched her still-aching ribs. "Should we take him with us?"

Soulserenity20 · Apr 2, 2017

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Merrik stared at the man for a while longer and while his mind maintained suspicions, his heart trusted his beloved bond-mate. "Bren, perhaps you will return with us to the meadow? You seem an interesting man with many a story to tell. It would be my honor to welcome you as a guest to my land."

Valaeria's expression lightened then, as Merrik glanced over his shoulder to where she stood beside Goliath. She knew of the protective barriers of the old woods that housed the Tetra Estate and bringing the stranger across the boundary would be a flawless test of whether he meant the Order harm or not. Part of her wished to go with them and see it through, but another, more dominant part, saw it time to return to her kingdom. She turned to her cousin and placed a tender hand on his jaw. "Cousin, my domain beckons my return. You have served your lands and your Queen well, and for that, you will be honored. Please, return home when it suits you. I would hold a feast in your name. Stay safe, Goliath of House Atreus, and return to your home a hero. My army will recuperate and prepare for the next battle."

She turned to Merrik then. "We will answer your call, Lord Tetra, for the Order has gained our allegiance from now, until the beginning of eternal peace. May your heart stay strong, may your sword never dull." She dipped into a light bow and turned, leaving the Order with the stranger and soon after, leaving the northern regions of Illos to return to her own people. With their victory secured, she had duties elsewhere to attend to.

Bren had agreed to return to the meadow with the tamers, with much enthusiasm. Merrik offered him a place on Taega's back, who felt an odd calm around the stranger and wished to prove useful after remaining grounded for the entirety of the battle. Her heart ached powerfully with each moment, but the victory had uplifted her spirits and Merrik had informed her that they would remain at the meadow for no more than a week before they left to get their beloved Terria back from the darkness of Ogual's lair.

And so, after a ceremony of honor held by King Norvik in the great hall of the ancient castle of Man, the tamers departed, flying west over the great Bodhra Mountains, meeting the familiar image of the Ancient Woods. They crossed the boundary without problem, easing Merrik's suspicions somewhat and when they landed in the long grasses of the meadow at last, they would enter their White Oaken home to a warm surprise from the Gardeners who had decorated the halls with fresh wildflowers, tidied and prepared every inch of the structure in a way that welcomed them home to warmth and bliss.

Merrik took a short time to unpack and after a long, hot shower, he set a large pot of meat and vegetables to stew before joining Bren at the table, offering the man a warm beverage. Some of the tamers joined them, curious about the outsider, curious about the future. Those who joined would engage in a discussion with their leader regarding what would come of the stranger, and of the Order's next task.

"I daresay you've come to us at an unfortunate time, for we've precious days of return before I leave with any who wish to come and set out for Ogual's lair. He's taken my younger sister and I have no plans to waste any time. The minute I've regained my strength we will leave to free her and bring her home. In that time, I fear you will not be allowed to join us, but you are welcome to remain here in the meadow. We've a friend who will join you and keep you company: Aglares. She's a rather unusual ally to the Order, but a trusted one. She'll protect you and see to it that your needs are met until our return. For the time being, I would inquire into your current situation. It's not understatement to say that you shocked me with your knowledge of Obsidian Nova's kind. I'm sure you know such things are rare to come by in books or tales. What has come of your memory that you don't recall where you heard such wondrous knowledge of dragons in a time so far gone from the days of their rule in the skies?"

"Master Tetra, there's little more I can say than what I've said before. I've no explanation for how I came to be. It feels as if I've simply always been here, always known what I've known, never much learned anything new, save for names and faces. Things have changed greatly in my time, I feel, but I've come to know change as normal a part of life as any."

"Where is your home, Bren?"

The man seemed startled by the question. "Well, I... I guess I haven't got much of a home. For as long as I can recall, I've been a wanderer. It never occurred to me to do anything differently."

He needed answers, and he hadn't the experience with memory loss of fugue required to handle such a situation, and so Merrik called for Aglares, who arrived only a short few minutes later. When she entered the kitchen and laid eyes on the older man, Merrik could have sworn that she faltered, but her composure remained as untelling as ever.

"Merrik. Tamers." She nodded in their directions, saying little and remaining firmly planted at the doorway. "For what purpose have you summoned me here?"

"Aglares, this is Bren. We came across him at the encampment outside of Kuhl during the battle and the dragons have sensed an old trust for him. He's shown great knowledge regarding Obsidian Nova's kind, as well as numerous of the other breeds of dragons, but he suffers from an ailment of the mind."

"Now, hold on there Young Master, my mind isn't ill and I haven't suffered a day in my life."

Aglares stared at the old man for a moment and then her eyes moved cooly to Merrik. "You would have me open his mind?"

"If you could, Aglares."

"I cannot."

There, he felt it faintly in the back of his mind. She was twisting the confines of their blood bond. He eyed her suspiciously, wondering if she had intended to allow him to notice her action.

"A word, Aglares." He said, standing up.

"Perhaps it would be best if Master Bren departed so I might have a word with the Order as a whole." She spoke calmly but firmly and Bren was quick to rise from his seat.

"If you wouldn't mind, I would like to wander about the meadow for a time. This place speaks to me as if by the ancient voices." He bowed and departed down the hall with great contentment as Merrik shook his head at the all around unusual encounter.

"What is it, Aglares. Pay mind to your Oath." The elf cast him a sharp glance then.

"I'm well aware of my oath, Seedling of the Ages." She moved forward and sat in the seat Bren had previously occupied. "I can fulfill your request, but before I do, it is time I offer you insight into my past and my powers."

And so, the story began.

Aglares told the Order of a time long since passed, a time of her own where elves were the dominant race in the lands. She spoke of her magicks and the centuries she spent studying the essence of mana, of spellcasting, of the entirety of the magicks that graced her people. The Elves flourished in Life Mana, using it to cultivate the ancient woods, building homes and prosperity from the heart of the lands. But there was more to their magicks, a forbidden half to the whole that was deeply feared and hated by the Elvenkind. Death mana was just as much a part of the Old Elves as was Life Mana. It was the second half to a circle of being that had long been deemed dangerous and unpredictable. After mages of the Fourth Queen had attempted to study and harness it, failing miserably and slaughtering entire villages in their mistakes, it had been formally banned. This was millennia before Aglares' time but as she grew, she discovered tomes of her ancestors and became eternally fascinated with the whole of her people's magicks. She studied them in secret and practiced deep in the woods where her Queen Elysiamyl could not sense her intent.

A terrible mistake in her calculations resulted in the death of a massive region of the woods, converting it into a deadland that eventually regrew in the form of a steeping marshland, filled with toxic plants and beings. The Queen sensed the death of some of the Elder Oaks, the white trees that manifested great amounts of the First Manas of the Land of Origins. When she discovered Aglares had gone against her wishes, she ordered the greatest punishment: the removal of her heart, and her connection with the First Manas of the lands. The First Manas were what fueled the Elven powers and without her heart, the connecting source between the living and the land, she was rid of her stream of mana.

It came to be that rising darkness in the realms of the East drove the Queen to call for a departure of her people from Illos, to the Land of the Eternals where they would live out their days without the quarrels of man and dragons and the lesser of the mana-based beings. Aglares was charged with repairing the damage that had come to the land at her hand and was left behind when her people departed across the Northern Seas.

It took hundreds of years for her to find a way to access the First Manas again, but to do so would come at a price: relics were the remains of mana-based beings that housed a great deal of power within them. Without a living owner, the mana could be harvested with ease by Aglares and allowed her to continue using magick, even without her heart. But many were disgusted at the idea of harvesting mana from relics, as it required the destruction of sacred remains and the dragons, unicorns, and other mana-based beings greatly opposed such an desecration.

"I have enough mana to sustain my day-to-day workings for many more centuries, but what you ask of me will require a great deal more power. Such strength could old come from the ancient bones of the Elder Dragons and for that, we must travel to the Silent Peaks. There is no other way. So you must decide how important this man and his wisdoms are to you."

Outside, a deep, pitting growl sounded as Obsidian Nova came to know of how the necromancer was attaining her powers. "Have you touched Byriarti's bones, you fowl creature?" A thick plume of black smoke began filling the stables as rage filled Obsidian Nova. "I will scorch the flesh from your ancient bones if you dare look upon my fallen brothers. You do not deserve to stand in these meadows. Leave!" A loud rumbling sounded as Nova made his way down the hall and dipped a massive head down to the kitchen door. A bloodred eye peered through and a deep, aggressive snarl shook the furniture in the room.

"I can assure you've I would never touch the bones of your fallen comrades, Merrik. Our blood oath would require me not to lie. You must know I've no intention of such actions. The relics I carry now are from wild dragons who passed thousands of years ago. I have not desecrated the sanctity of the Order, nor would I. The Silent Peaks house more than bonded dragon bones, they are home to all the dragons who have died in this land, from all of time! I feel that your guest hold knowledges that will be infintely valuable, for I hold an old wisdom too, but a wisdom of my own. I strongly urge you to consider this, but know that it will come at a cost that may not agree with your dragons' code of ethics. The choice is yours. I am bound to honor your wishes and to serve in your honor and your name."

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Return of the Dragon Tamers: The Plague of Ogual

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