Return of the Dragon Tamers: The Plague of Ogual

[Soulserenity20]

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• 
  
  
  
  
  
  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]

 

[Rainjay]

Xylia made for an alright companion. For some time Saira walked alongside her in the woods, with little but the sound of the rain between them. There wasn't a whole lot to talk about. Xylia worked her way through the trees with a very wild-ish finesse, while Saira walked below. After some time of searching, and finding nothing of note, Xylia stopped and asked, "What do you s'pose we're looking for, Saira?"

The redhead shrugged. "I haven't the fainted idea. A mage, perhaps? Some strange little mana creature? Ogual, in disguise? Maybe it's some strange sort of invisible mana-bug."

It frustrated her, not being able to see their enemy, and being without clues or hints. Nothing ever liked to be easy for them on their journeys. She leaned her back against a tree, since it seemed like Xylia was settling for a moment to rest, but then noticed the rustling in the trees above her, and noticed Xylia was moving. It was as though she were hunting something, moving deliberately, and quietly, forward.

Saira began to follow from down below, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible. It was after she rounded a thick set oak that she saw what Xylia did--a strange silhouette in the distance. In the lightning, she could see his features, a young, curly haired boy who looked a little worse for wear. He was frozen in the light for the moment that it was there; and as it faded, he began to run.

"Follow him!" Saira exclaimed, just loud enough for Xylia, overhead, to hear her, though no doubt the boy expected them to follow. She started in his general direction, following the sound of movement, almost impossible to hide with how fast the boy was fleeing.

While chasing, Saira realized that he looked far too young to possibly be the cause of such distress on the dragons. Perhaps it was a disguise? Or... was he fleeing from something else? Ducking underneath a low hanging branch, she eased an arrow from the quiver on her back and readied herself for anything.

 

[White]

Avren had stepped up to her and the kind when she had asked her questions and had continued on with the questions and giving another explanation to the whys as well as an answer to Narien"s question.
The king seemed just too happy to oblige and quickly they made their way to their destination with the track ending at the entrance to another cave, a memorial to what had occurred recently... with Goliath.
Avren hesitated and turned back to look to Narien, whom dipped his head and challenged Avren and herself to lead as their actions had been dominant enough to getting here.
Turning her gaze to look at him, her head tilted, her eyes seeking to meet his and shaking her head, she replied: "No, it is not the time for this right now. The question of leadership can be concluded once we have arrived safely at the monastery with the king with us. Please let us focus on the task at hand." Looking to Avren and Illyria sternly in hops it may discourage them from speaking of this now. Her eyes turned to the entrance after before she gave her analysis: "I have doubts that the children wanderer here on their own will and we should prepare for it... My guess would be that it would either be bandits, for which it would be strange as to why there are no guards posted here, or a creature of mana, possibly something to control or invade somebody's mind to do their bidding." Turning her head to Narien once again, she continued: "What do you think we should do, Narien? I could attempt to soothe what lies inside in hopes it will be tame, I also have something at disposal to protect myself from mana based attacks."

 

[Crimson77]

Xylia was startled so many times within that split second of shock. The boy's sudden appearance had movement would have caused Xylia to fall off the branch she had perched on had she not caught herself when she fell with that same branch.

The next was his appearance, what was a boy so young doing in a forest like this, in a weather condition like this, at a time like this? Xylia had so many questions running through her mind as her heart beats quickened when he sprinted and Saira, whom she had no clue followed her as quietly as she had yelled out to chase the boy. By instinct, Xylia let go of the branch and landed on her feet before taking off after him.

Xylia chased after the boy with ease, ducking and hopping over every branch and tree root that stuck out in her path. She listened for the footsteps that paced quicker than hers and drew her sword out to cut out any debris that could not be avoided before they came to...

 

[firejay1]

Aaand there it was again, his wish to be able to magically seal people's mouths shut. Narien turned to meet Reverie's mismatched gaze, showing the surprise he felt, but not the amused scorn. How had she so badly misinterpreted what he had said? He resisted the urge to give a noncommittal shrug, and instead simply said, "My intention was not for the two of you to lead this company, but lead on into the cave, for I do not doubt Viridian's ability." Praying the king was not noticing this clear indication of their less-than-unity, Narien stepped forward into the cave.

He had no idea Reverie had any of the abilities she claimed to have. She made it sound as though she could soothe, illuminate, and defend from mana-based attacks all at once, though they had not been taught that kind of defensive mana. He had thought she could only soothe, but perhaps after the Battle of Kuhl, she had gained something he did not know about. It seemed he himself had. In the week following the stag hunt, he had focused mainly on flying and water mana, but he had also tried pulling on is strange new bonded mana twice more with the stags. Both times had been rather disastrous experiences, unlike his old bonded mana. To some extent, it had been the same thing - attack with the bonded mana, overcome their internal defenses, and then pull... except instead of feeling sick as he drew someone else's mana into himself, he had suddenly had brief control (or lack thereof), of SOMETHING. The first time, they'd been flying and Agni had nearly fallen out of the sky from surprise. The second time, Narien had had some sort of strange flash of a premonition that had given him a massive headache and nearly caused him to black out. He would have to try again some other time.

Regardless, he turned to Reverie and said, "I believe you are correct in thinking the girls are unlikely to have willingly made their way here without some other incentive, but I would not be too hasty to use your bonded mana when we do not yet know what threat, if any, we face. And there is a slightly easier way to illuminate the caves." Lifting one hand palm up, his small, glassy flame burst into life, sneaking forward into the caves. It was small at first, but as Narien took a step inside, there appeared to be nothing yet there. The caves continued empty, thus far, so he allowed the fire to grow larger, until they had some fair light. As they delved a little deeper, a strange humming, thrumming noise appeared to echo in the caves, growing louder as they proceeded. Narien drew his main knife into his hand, feeling more comfortable with its weight, there. His head turned slightly and he gave a brief look at the small company following them. The walls of the caves began to glitter slightly with some sort of strange crystal, when suddenly the humming stopped. Something appeared right at the edge of their path of illumination. Who knew if it was friendly or not.

 

[Soulserenity20]

Avren simply stared, entirely unpleased with the confusing nature of the situation. People were strange like that, always struggling to communicate, always struggling to meet each other under the same tree. It was never a pleasant experience for Avren to navigate the difficulties of social interactions and so, most often, he simply chose not to. This was one of those times when it worked out well for him. He wanted to get on with things, ever feeling the tug of motivation and fighting with impatience. If two little girls from mainstream civilization were, indeed, lost in this cave, they needed their help very desperately. Frankly, it didn't matter who walked first, they just needed to get in there and trust each other.

After a bit of back and forth between Narien and Reverie, they eventually progressed. As they did, an unusual sound began filling the air. It was a sound Avren had never heard before and the tone of it made him rather uncomfortable, as if the pitch was at odds with his senses. When it stopped, he was relieved and took a moment to admire the shimmering gemstones that coursed in veins through the walls around them. It was only seconds later that his attention fell on the figure before him, just around the bend, peaking its way around the stone wall as it curved into the deeps of the cave.

Stepping out, the figure was very clearly humanoid, possibly even an Illosian, but it was. . . unhealthy. . . or, no. It was. . . it wasn't natural. With skin that bore a pale, white color unlike anything that should have dressed the body of an Illosian, its eyes were wide and deep, with purple and blue tones dappling the irises. It wore a rather ratty fabric cloak that had gemstone shards of every color tied onto it. They were secured but not by any means of craftsmanship, rather by sheer dedication. Each stone wrapped so many times and stitched on until it was made to stay. It was impossible to tell what was underneath the cloak, but Avren had no interest in finding out any further information about the creature. He was entirely off his guard, out of his element of the woodlands, stuck in a dark cave with people he didn't particularly like and some that he didn't even know.

The king must have caught sight of the thing at that point because he gasped and pushed his way forward to where Narien and Reverie stood. Avren slunk back, not wanting to be on the frontline if the thing rushed them. He placed his hands protectively on his two crooked blades, ready to wield them if need be.

"Gods be, what is this abomination? Narien, have you any knowledge of this place and of this creature?"

It didn't flinch, it didn't back up, it didn't move. It was curious. It's eyes betrayed that, and when the king spoke, it seemed intrigued by his voice. None could have expected it, but the creature spoke then.

"Temrin. No abomination, not creature. Temrin. That all." It spoke with difficulty. It's words were unfamiliar on its tongue, the grammar seemed broken and misunderstood, and yet, it spoke.

 

[Soulserenity20]

When Saira and Xylia broke through the underbrush, they staggered into an opening that caught them off guard. Gathering their perception, they noticed the boy on the far end of the clearing. He stood silently, but within moments, a rustling sounded from all around and within seconds, the tamers were being pushed into the middle of the clearing, surrounding entirely by young boys in cloaks. They were dirty, many were young, but most were likely in the mid teens and they all looked as if they hadn't seen a real bed or a warm fire in a great many days.

The boy they had chased here stepped forward then, and spoke. "Illos faces not one, but many enemies. We cannot allow the lands to fall to the mighty while the meek suffer in their shadows. You are no better than the dark lord. Your deaths will be as welcome as his."

The boys had weapons. It became more apparent as each drew a blade, dagger, mace, or spear. The young one they had chased seemed to have authority here, and it was clear he didn't the two tamers. With nearly 30 of the young men surrounding them in the clearing, the boys actually posed a great threat to them.

 

[Rainjay]

"Fuck,"

Saira felt the words come out in a warm breath of air over her lip. It was unclear if over the rain, Xylia beside her could even hear. She'd let herself--and Xylia, for that matter--be lured into what should have been an obvious trap. Perhaps Narien was onto something with his apparent lack of empathy; at least he wasn't about to go chasing into the woods after strange, dirty boys. As they emerged from the depths of the clearing, she counted there to be a couple dozen of them, all ragged and apparently, homeless and unafraid. Little lost boys, she thought, thinking back to some of the more obscure stories her mother had told her as a child. How did children come to be in a position like this?

She had her bow in her hands, fully loaded, but at such proximity it seemed a moot point. These boys were easily within running distance. How many arrows could she shoot before she was overrun? One? Perhaps two? The weight of the knives at her side pressed against her, but she was worried what such a sudden move would do.

A thought came to her: were these boys responsible for the strange attacks on their dragons?

"Then what do you suppose is done?" she asked the boy who seemed to be their leader. "Do you suppose if you just slay the mighty, the meek will rule? Perhaps, form their own social order? What is your goal with luring us here? Who are you? Perhaps you have a name."

Saira was no fancy talker, but she would try. She cast a glance at Xylia, hoping the other tamer would understand. She didn't want to fight these boys--not because they were outnumbered, but because something about their appearance bruised her. What had happened to these boys to shape their views in such a way?

--

Illyria followed the others quietly, still rather unwilling to take part in the dysfunctional conversation that happened between them. Reverie seemed to think there was a conflict of leadership; Narien seemed to be fighting to maintain control where there was no argument; innocent Avren just wanted to push past the nonexistent conflict and get to work. Illyria herself just wanted the ordeal over with. The longer she listened to them speak, the more her headache grew, and the more irritated she grew.

Perhaps you should have asked Merrik to stay behind at the meadow. Mirazh said from outside the cave, where he laid in between shaded trees. He'd crushed some of the brush, but didn't seem to care. He'd found a comfortable spot, and that's what mattered to him.

Terria just returned to us after having been tortured for weeks. I have a headache. What impression am I trying to make, here? Maybe Merrik would have let her stay--maybe he wouldn't've. But she didn't want to disappoint him more than she probably already did. She, after-all, wasn't anything special, and was probably the most lacking of the bunch.

Your loss, Mirazh replied before settling back into a semi-conscious doze, aware just enough to follow after Illyria's thoughts and maintain a sense of what was happening.

Which... wasn't much. The cave was dark, and ... cavelike. Nothing stood out to her, and she couldn't see any sign that children had been here. She was starting to think it was a faux trail until something began to shimmer ahead, and before her tired brain could really understand what had happened, the King had thrust himself in front of the group--even though they were probably much more capable of defending themselves than he was, and it was probably even dangerous for him to be in the line of their amateur fire--at the sight of a magnificent, strange, humanoid.

"Temrin?" That's all she absorbed from the exchange between it and the King. "Erm, your.. majesty, maybe we shouldn't threaten it--Temrin. Especially if they've maybe seen your daughters."

She glanced at Narien, wondering if he was going to engage the being or not. Curiosity won her over before he could react, and she took a half step forward and said, "We should call you Temrin then, yes? Is this where you live? We're sorry if we're intruding; we're trying to find somebody, who we think might have come here recently."

 

[firejay1]

Nothing much seemed to be going well at the moment, and Narien was again struck with the thought that Merrik's idea to assign him as leader had been very very stupid for so many reasons, but he felt an odd sense of comfort at seeing the creature in front of him. He wasn't sure if he believed the humming noise had come from the being before them, but he felt certain it had something to do with the two girls. His immediate thought at Temrin's appearance hadn't been anything like the king's, who had assumed it was an abomination, or even Avren's, who had clearly felt uncomfortable with it. On the contrary, he had thought that if his soul could manifest itself, it might look something like that, and he found the thought oddly comforting, as if here might be a creature wretched enough to communicate with him evenly.

He noticed Illyria giving him a querying look, and was suddenly completely done with people staring and casting sideways glances and questioning his judgment and expecting him to act while completely ignoring the intention behind everything he did and said, so it was to his relief that she chose that moment to take a step forward and speak herself, because for half a moment, he'd been certain he'd been on the verge of throwing something at her, and the only thing in his hand at the moment was his knife. He was losing control of himself more often lately. The longer he stayed with the Order, the stranger he felt. Like his body couldn't decide if it was angry or excited. Nothing was simple any more. You had allies that didn't like you, superiors that did, enemies with no physical form. He had been too out of touch with humans to understand how to build long-term relationships with them anymore. Relationships that extended beyond using them or surviving them, that was. But he wasn't allowed to use these people, and there was a different meaning to surviving them, now. It wasn't a physical survival, more like a need to survive with his sanity intact. There was no sanity in the Order. No rhyme or reason to what the strange humans did or said. Worse, was the tiny little moment of protectiveness he'd felt about the very same person he'd just now almost thrown a knife at.

He locked eyes with Temrin and to his horror suddenly realized he was starting to care about these people who made him angry and ignored him and misunderstood him, who astounded him with their arrogance and foolishness and blind self-righteousness. People who were fighting for some abstract "good of all Illos" nonsense. He had been tired and overwhelmed for over a month and he was done with them all, but they had made him care, and he could not think of anything worse happening than that. So he did what he always did when things got worse than he'd thought they could get. He smiled, and flipped his knife once in the air. "Two young women. Your assistance would be welcome." He added, without thinking about it.

 

[Soulserenity20]

Temrin in the Tunnels

The creature stared for a time, blinking only once, but casting its gaze from each of the individuals that stood in its halls. It spoke hesitantly this time, staring carefully at Illyria and Narien. "Has you come to see Temrin? Play for Temrin a while? Temrin loves playthings."

It thought for a moment and seemed to get more excited at the idea of company. "Yes. Come. Temrin says come to my home. Not here. This is a tunnel. A tunnel is not Temrin's home. It is a tunnel." The being let out a rather horrid giggle and waved its hand before disappearing in a run around the corner, eliciting the tamers and their company to follow.

Avren didn't want to go. He smelled a trap. The creature reminded him of the black foxes of Wimbledon, only much more creepy. The foxes in the hills were witty as could be, but they looked quite harmless. They were fluffy and small, playful and seemingly friendly, but as soon as they were allowed on your land, they'd slaughter your livestock, raid your meat stores, and attack you viciously if you tried to confront them. Little though they were, they were also vicious. Temrin wasn't cute, but he was small and something about him struck a threatening chord with the wildman. He would follow the leader - or leaders in this case - but his guard would be high from here on out.

The tunnel weaved deeper and deeper into the Heaven's Steps, it grew a bit colder, but this was expected of any deep cave. There was a constant light about the tunnels as the gemstones reflected the fire of the tamers, emitting it a ways farther than it naturally would have reached. There came a point when the tunnel opened up into a wider room which then split off into two other tunnels. Temrin sat quietly hunched in the corner near one of the tunnels, waiting for the party to follow.

"No more fire light now," he said. "It will go or you will go."

Avren wasn't in the mood to interact with Narien at that point but he wouldn't have it. "Narien. . . " He stepped closer to the man and whispered quietly enough that even Narien would struggle to hear him. "A hunter is no good without his eyes. Don't make us prey."

The king was growing more concerned. It was clear he was nearing a breaking point of frustration, but for the time being, he held his tongue, looking to the tamers to see what their supposed expertise might offer.

 

[Soulserenity20]

The Lost Boys

The boy spit at the woman, angry and with eyes filled with deep hatred. "The Order is supposed to be the bringer of Balance, but you've tipped the scales farther than any Illosian could have. You don't belong in this land. The warring of the rulers isn't yours to consider. Your time has come and gone. Balance demands your death. First you, and then your dragons will die of misery and woe."

The boys began moving forward, their weapons at the ready as the leader's lips prepared the command for attack.

 

[firejay1]

The word "playthings" was the first thing that caught Narien's attention in the bad way. "Playthings" was the kind of word you use for other people when you intended to do something to them whether they liked it or not. Conversely, the kind of thing that brought to mind someone ready to torture you and sell your organs. The giggle was the second. That one was harder to explain. It was just an instinctive shiver up his spine that something was not right. The grip on his knife tightened, but it wasn't as if there was a second option anyone had in mind... a thought process he'd had when the illusory owl had led him to its nest to be eaten alive. That one had turned out so well, after all.

Though some part of him warned him not to, Narien took a breath and took off after the creature, but his eyes kept track of the twist and turns they were making, determined to know the way out if it came to that. The farther in they went, the tenser he got, his clear flame bobbing a little in front of the company. There it was again, the familiar rush of excitement that came with the fear of rushing into danger without much other choice. Only this time there were a bunch of people following him that he had to be careful for. When at last they came to a stop, Narien gave Temrin an even look, growing more convinced that it may have nefarious purposes in mind. Walking in blind would be a display of trust he most certainly did not possess the capacity for right at this moment. Or at all.

He tilted his head as Avren decided to break the awkward silence the Order had maintained through their run for the awkward attempt at communication they'd been struggling with all day. He must have really been worried, and it wasn't like Narien really relished the thought of becoming prey himself. "I would not have you do so, but be prepared should it take poorly to our declination." He responded back to Avren quietly. He looked around at the party and was aware of how vulnerable they all were, deep in the caves with what might be a monster, having just been given the literal run-around. With a little more volume, he addressed Temrin. "No. We will not follow you without light. We cannot. Is it the fire you object to, friend? One of our party may create light another way." He turned to give Reverie a glance, hoping she hadn't been bluffing on that part. His knife was still held firmly in his hand, in case it should choose to attack, but in the full hopes that it wouldn't, he made no move to be threatening or impolite.

 

[Crimson77]

Xylia froze, she heard Saira cuss beside her, very softly, through the rain and couldn't think of a better word for this occasion. This was not what they had initially had in mind. Who knew chasing a ragged looking boy would lead both her and Saira into such a situation. She paused, staff in one hand, blade in the other. Though she was armed, and so was Saira, they were thoroughly out-numbered. But that was besides the point. She didn't want to hurt anyone, merely because they were standing on the other end of the blade. She listened to Saira reason but wondered why would boys, who looked no younger than her, be filled with so much angst and vengeance.

She nudged Saira on her side very lightly as though trying to tell her to follow her lead. With the anger burning through, Xylia shuddered at the thought of merely dying in the hands of misunderstanding which would form regret and possibly as these boys say "tip the balance" further. Xylia breathed before raising her hands in front of her; one to show that they did indeed meant no harm and two, it was a way to create at least a bit more distance between them.

"We understand not of what you speak. Per'aps if you could further elaborate, maybe we can understand you better then?" she yelled out through the thundering rain. Hoping that the honesty in her voice gave way before the crack at the end offered any slip of fear. "To be fair, I, personally, remain new to this entire "Order" and "Tamer" ordeal. I do not always ear' what is supposed to be eard', much like your own troubles or what goes on in Illos." Xylia stated, her hand loosened on her sword, though staff remained by her side. She spoke to the Lost Boys with a voice that one would use to reason with a wild animal; slow, careful but alert. "I come from Nepa Village, which doesn't receive much outside news anyway... So, you must elp' us, then we may elp' you. We were always told when we joined, t'at The Order is supposed to elp' anyone and everyone of Illos, do you not believe t'at we then oppose the Dark Lord who merely wishes to rule?" she questioned. "Let us listen..." she finished, gesturing to the sword and slowly, very carefully, slipping it back into its body. Making no sudden movements to ensure that she sincerely meant no harm. Xylia followed her instincts and she only wish that Saira would do the same.

 

[Mowkie]

The soft rush of waves upon the sand found her ears as Pomona stared out across the expanse of misty water. The air was cool and wet with the light mist of what had remained of the storm that had since passed, and with each breath, she smelled the foreign scent of the sea. Her mind wandered briefly as she heard the footsteps of her assigned partner behind her. Wandered towards the goal that they currently faced. Not only the strange sensations that her dragoness and the others now faced, but also what lay beyond the nuisance that they were solving. What would await them on Origin Island? And was it the best move. Katla surely believed so, but Pomona felt as though this particular path might be leading them beyond the goal they had already set - the destruction of Ogual and restoration of Illos.

"Pomona!" Alder shouted, spotting smaller footsteps in the sand. "Over here!"

She snapped out of her thoughts and turned her gaze towards the old soldier. "What is it?" He was crouched, his armor dimmed significantly with salt and debris from the storm and the days since of flying without a chance to properly clean the metal. His beard was extra wiry, and his long, dark hair was pulled tightly back into a bun with tiny curls sprouting from his ears. Slowly, she strode towards him and crouched down at what he was looking at. There were only a couple, and they were very light, as though whatever put them in the sand was no bigger than a child. And definitely human.

"They lead back towards Merrik and the others. We should head back and see if they've found anything."

She gave a nod, and together they walked back towards Merrik, who stood alone between the sands and the edge of the trees. "Lord Tetra," Alder called lightly as he came within hearing range. "We seem to have very small followers. Pomona and I found footsteps in the sand. Judging by the size and how deep the prints were, they would be younger. Definitely human."

"Have you heard anything from Saira and Xylia?" Pomona found herself stumbling over the strange woman's name, missing the "i," completely, making the name sound more like "Xyla." Still, she continued. "I'm not sure how, exactly, children could be affecting out dragons, but this is certainly no place for a youngling to remain...I feel it is our duty as tamers to find out where those footprints lead if possible."

Alder gave a slight nod, crossing his arms. "Aye, while I can agree with the lass, I feel it necessary to first find out if the others have found anything leading more to our...itching problem."

 

[Soulserenity20]

The Lost Boys

Merrik stared at the steps for a moment after meeting up with Alder and Pomona. From what he could tell, Alder was right about who they likely belonged to, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why children would be running around the coast during a storm like this. Yes, it was clearing up now at last, but still . . .

"I agree. We should go and find the others. We'll touch base and see if we can find the cause of the problem from what we've seen so far." He beckoned for the others to follow and they made their way into the woods. As they walked, Merrik took in his surroundings, as he always did in the forest. He loved the woodlands, loved the wild flora and fauna and often enjoyed sketching them in his private notebooks, taking note of the properties of the plants, the habits of the animals. This, he was told, he got from his father and every Tetra before him. Curiosity and an inclination for scholarly practices seemed to run in the family. Or perhaps that was the doing of mana. It was difficult, at times, to tell just how much the Dragonlord pact was influencing his path of fate.

They pressed on, a light mist still lingering in the air, the clouds still maintaining a darkened sky, but with much less downpour, visibility greatly increased. He saw plants along the forest floor that look largely unfamiliar to him, drawing his curiosity, but rather than stop to investigate, he chose to make a mental note to return to this coast so that he might explore the region further and see what new knowledge he might find.

Along the way, he worked carefully with Alder and Pomona to properly track their companions along the muddied paths of the forest. Eventually, a sound was heard drifting quietly through the air, muffled by the mist and slowing drip of the passing storm. The voice was unfamiliar, but the tone sounded stressed. As they pushed on, quietly as they could and cloaked by a simple muffling spell that Merrik quickly cast upon the party of three, they neared the source of the sound. Xylia and Saira had found the children, but these children were not the sort that Merrik had expected to find. These children were armed and they had cornered his tamers.

Not wanting to take any risks with the sharp, primitive weapons the boys wielded, Merrik started to summon up a very careful spell that would disarm them all without hurting them. "I need you to be prepared to get control of the situation once they're disarmed. We need to break that circle and form our own. We don't know who these boys are, but they're misguided into threatening the others." He wondered wildly if the boys knew who they threatened. Did they think the tamers a few strangers in the woods? That would be unfortunate and disappointing, but bearable. If the boys knew they were attacking members of the Order. . . well, the problem became a great deal more serious.

He quieted, his words and steps silenced by the spell he held onto, and began weaving his dark mana. He forged minuscule particles that lingered in the air above the boys and the tamers, so small that they couldn't be seen. He summoned enough for him to work with and when he was prepared, his will set, his mind clear, and his mana no longer disrupted by Nova's dancing and fretting (he had blocked his dragon wholly from his mind to spare himself the distraction), he executed his spell and all the particles dropped, collected around the weapons, and ripped them clear out of the boys hands. Merrik quickly lifted his arms, flinging the weapons up out of reach, and then whirled his body towards the sea, as if throwing a javelin through the woods. The mana responded to his physical spell and the weapons were flung far into the distance. They would meet the sea, sink, and leave the boys weaponless for so long as they wished to avoid going for a swim.

In that moment Alder, Pomona, Xylia, and Saira were given a moment to act. The boys were startled and caught off guard and the time to overcome them was nigh.

 

[Crimson77]

Xylia didn't think twice when the weapons these boys had were flung into the deep blue. She took it as a huge hint and immediately crouched down and swung her staff at all the boys' feet that were right in front of her and Saira, tripping them so that they were more defenseless.

Acting as quick as she and Saira could, Xylia made sure to trip the one that Saira and she had been chasing prior, spat at Saira and seemed to be the leader of this pack. Her idea was that if she takes him "hostage", the other boys' might back off or do as they're told. Still clueless as to who assisted them, Xylia did not want to take any chances. After she knocked them down, she aimed her staff at "the leaders" head and tapped it hard enough to hurt or bruise, but not enough to bleed. "I know I'm uncultured, but spit'ing at a lady..." she tsked, "How rude!" Xylia mocked, staff aimed at his chest.

 

[White]

Oh... so he was speaking of taking point. She rolled her eyes as she grumpily followered after everybody else into the caves only to meet an odd fellow whom introduced himself by the name of Temlin. Reverie kept her mouth shut and left the talking to Narien. Narien appeared to have choosen to follow this little thing in hopes of discovering the king's daughters and the deeper it went, the more cautious and paranoid Reverie started to become. The feeling of her bond with Celeste, the connection itself, felt as if it grew rougher, less smooth and then weaker. The concern grew even more when she felt that her access to her own mana stores seemed to grow dimmer. Subtly, but ever increasingly.
Her eyes were opened wide when Temlin turned and requested for Avren to turn off the light, her concerns overwhelming in fear of not seeing her little mentee again. She stepped quietly behind Avren, attempting to use her mana to soothe him during the process."Think you could capture this little guy?" She whispered with malice into his ear.
Her eyes turned to Narien, cautiously looking towards him and the flame in his hand.

 

[White]

Temrin and the Tunnels
[Pre-Narien Edit]
Temrin hystericly hushed at the party while it's gaze remained on Narien. "No-no-no. No good. No light, you go. Leave!" Ot hurriedly spoke, moving himself out of the light into the shadows to abandon the Tamers to the darkness of the cave.

Narien stared at the creature, naturally he would not listen to it and could not see why it was that Avren would worry about this. "Is this what you have done to the fine young women as well?" Narien asked Temrin as he was leaving, the king looking between him and the creatures impatiently. Temrin, turning again "So..." it begun hesitantly. "You no want to be playthings." It spouted before turning to hurry away. A swift arrow flew past them, Narien barely noticed it and for once it was Reverie that lost her patience to let loose an arrow, aimed for this creatures leg.
The arrow hit, yet Narien felt displeased with this. This was risky and she may had missed, risking any other possible solution to this. He moved towards Temrin, looking at it intently as it tried to pull itself away. "You bad, bad." The creature spit in fear.
"Would you kindly tell us where the two young women are then? Or have you just been fooling us?" Narien drew his dagger with his free hand to make a point.


The Lost boys

The boy tried to move out of the way but Xylia's staff would hit his chest, yet for some reason it would feel like it padded off, as if a shield made out of cotton would shield off the hit. The boy, holding his head scuffled backwards only to stare at the other tamer and his taken care off comrades. Anger burning in his eyes he turned to Xylia, searching her for a weakpoint, a mistake in her demeanor, stance, anything that would allow him to escape. With a step forward he started to run towards Xylia...

 

[Crimson77]

Xylia wasn't startled. When an animal is trapped, they gain that fight or flight instinct. She was always prepared for both, for that is what it meant to be a true hunter; something Xylia prided herself to be. However, she didn't want to maim the boys' and neither did she want to hurt them.

As the boy ran towards her, the staff aimed at his chest swung down to his calves with brute force. It was going to hurt, anything with brute force would hurt. But Xylia's instinct told her it was necessary. To be a leader of a pack or deemed a leader, one must prove why it deserves that respect. There are several ways to do so, and in a duel you can gain two types of respect; respect for winning or fear. Now, in Xylia's mind, the fear could be eradicated later.

 

[Mowkie]

She was a mere child in comparison to the power and unhindered concentration of her leader. His focus and resistance to the distraction of his dragon left Pomona in a slight manner of awe. Of course, she would never admit that she admired her leader. Not after all that she had said, completely out of turn, to the man. Her eyes wandered briefly as she crouched and followed alongside Alder, who remained just behind Merrik. She could hear the voices of the children, but it was difficult to discern their words. As she let her gaze settle on the group, she found her comrades cornered by the younglings. Something was off here. She could feel it deep within her.

But whether or not they were the reason behind the dragons' issues had yet to be determined. For now, all there was to do was stop their advance on the other tamers and question them. She found her mind unfocused, her thoughts hard to sift through beyond the fretful sensations of her dragoness, who was still attempting desperately to rid herself of the pesky itches. Still, she called forth her mana, just as she had been practicing. The need for a weapon attached itself to the silvery thread she felt within her core, and to her hand it sprang. But something was off about this sword. It was almost as though the weapon was not completely there. In appearance, yes, but not solid. Not enough to do any damage.

Deep down, Pomona knew that she was not yet strong enough to fight through something as bad as her dragon's distracted thoughts. But perhaps something such as this sword would be enough to startle the children. Make them think that she was holding a powerful, magical sword. It was worth a try, at least.

Just then, Merrik gave his warning and then used his mana to fling the boys' weapons far away from the trees. In the distance, through the storm, she could hear the satisfying splashes as the waves carried the primitive tools away. Xylia was quick to make her move, crouching lower and swinging at the feet of the lads. Some fell, while others managed to dodge the oncoming assault. One even had the audacity to spit at Saira, who had been chasing him a moment before. He, too, soon felt the spear slam against his chest. But it didn't seem to phase him much at all.

Pomona took this chance to stand up, aiming the not-so-solid sword at the now divided group of children, who parted ways as the boy made his move towards Xylia. The sudden burst of energy was quickly expunged with a slam against his chest, sending him backwards and down. "I'd keep my distance if I were you. It's time out leader got some answers about why you'd be out in weather like this...and why you would ever dare to attack members of the Order of Dragon Tamers."

Alder was quick to move to the other half, his much more physical sword readied, but not pointed at the boys. A part of him wondered if they were simply misguided children, while the sentinal within had a bad feeling that they knew exactly what they were doing. His eyes glanced towards Merrik just briefly before looking back at the boys. At least his leader was clear-headed. He wasn't sure how much more of Andraste's internal giggling he could take.