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Post by Angmor on Jun 9, 2010 8:06:58 GMT -5
All across Surda, summer had taken hold like fire and smoke. Across the southern sky, shredded wisps of dark cloud filled the air, like the reek of some great bonfire. The molten disk of the sun sank slowly toward the western horizon, like a metal circlet from a smithy's forge just cooling to a charry red flame, lighting the undersides of the clouds in crimson. For Sierthra, the effect was like flying through some battlefield of giants; in which only sign of the enormity of the conflict was the blood and smokes of battle, with the combatants themselves nowhere to be seen. The sky just felt alive, filled with exuberant energy that made every beat of her wings thrill with excitement. The smiled joyously to herself, feeling the pulse of her heart beating against her chest like the cadence of a war drum. Tonight would be a good hunt.
It had been a week since Kyemen's long-prepared meeting south of Feinster, when he had entreated the people of Alagaesia to unite against the death-powder that was creeping its way across the land. After that, he had thrown himself into his work for Lady Nasuada, mostly to assure that she did not suspect anything, and partially to build trust so that she would not be so wary of where he spent his time. Looking back on it, she admitted that it had been time well spent. But when he had been doing that, it had been the purest form of boredom. As punishment for what Nasuada believed to be his ludicrously stupid actions at the peace summit in Feinster, he had been kept busy almost every hour of every day, reading reports, filling out supply requisitions, and just generally handling the kind of logistical minutia that made his mind feel like a piece of worn parchment. She had to go flying by herself most of that time, which, with her Rider sitting in his quarters looking bleary-eyed at line upon line of squiggle-scratches, was about as fun as cleaning horse-dung from her scales. But now, at last, the agreed-upon date had arrived, and after making some plausible excuse to Nasuada, they were now off on the trail the mysterious group of people who had thrown the air-shatter at the summit, stopped any chance at the sides cooperating to beat back the death-powder, and had indirectly gotten her Rider in trouble in the first place. She felt like a prisoner set free. She blissfully set her face to the crimson son, reveling in the feeling of the warm air currents passing under her wings like a fine bath... At that moment, it felt as if all the blood rushed away from her head. Her vision dimmed, and for a moment, she felt heavy and limp as a stone... She shook her head to clear it, and it was gone. She was back in the battlefield sky, under the crimson light of the sun. She frowned in bewilderment. Sierthra? [/Color] Came The voice of Kyemen from her back. Are you alright? I'm fine. She answered. After all, it was just for a split second, there and gone. She was just getting too excited. Well, the ruins are coming up pretty soon. Land behind that hill[/Color] Said Kyemen, sending her an image that drew her eyes to the right spot. Her previous good mood quickly returning, she rolled a tight turn, winging over to put her in an ideal position to spiral down to the landing far below. Strangely, there was a spike of alarm from Kyemen. Um, gently please, Sierthra. Remember, we have a guest. If he hurls, you're going to be cleaning it out of your scales by yourself.[/Color] Ah yes. She now remembered that Kyemen had brought along the dwarf from his bodyguard contingent, mostly to maintain the cover for Nasuada. No wonder she felt heavier than usual. She got the idea through the trip, mostly from the occasional dwarven curse and sudden squeezing sensation against the base of her neck that dwarves, for some reason, didn't like flying. Whoops. Tell him I'm sorry.[/Color] She said, righting herself fluidly. With anyone else, she probably would have made the ride even wilder, but the dwarf was different. She hadn't had a whole lot of contact with him since he was assigned as part of Kyemen's personal protection, but for some strange reason, she always felt like she was walking on social eggshells whenever they spoke. Normally she wouldn't care, but with him, he was going to be in Kyemen's presence for most of the day for who knew how long, it was better to maintain civility. Besides, she thought to herself as she descended lazily on the thermals, being coated in the contents of a dwarf's insides would not be the best way to begin such a glorious hunt... . . . It was funny how long absences made you a lot more appreciative of what you have. Right at this moment, Kyemen thought that he would never take flying with his friend for granted ever again. He took a deep breath of the warm breeze, savoring the feel of wind caressing his skin for the first time in what seemed years. Even with only half the room in the saddle he normally had, even with a Feldunost-horn bow coming within an inch of his left eye with every change in wind, even on the way to lead a team of people he had mostly never met into a potentially dangerous situation, he would not trade this moment for the world. He watched as the ground rose slowly to meet them, Sierthra deftly maneuvering on the warm updrafts from the fens below. He smiled. This was far slower and more leisurely than her normal landing, either for her own benefit or to spare the stomach of the dwarf sitting before him. Kyemen wasn't sure the selection process that his bodyguard cadre had devised, but it seemed that everyone had been surprised when Dolin, the only dwarf in the contingent, had been chosen to go with him. Now, Kyemen did not have enough experience with dwarves to comfortably read their emotions, but since Dolin had literally not moved since Sierthra had taken off, he got the idea that it had been an uncomfortable ride for the reluctant bodyguard. Still, Kyemen hoped that he had enjoyed it at least a little bit. As weather went, this was the most spectacularly beautiful time to fly. The soft red glow of the setting sun seemed to turn every blade of grass into copper and gold, with the lengthening shadows creating vast pockets of shadows behind every hill and before every rise, making a wide patchwork of black and gold that stretched unbroken to every horizon. At least, almost unbroken. Several miles ahead, resting on the landscape like a pile of toys on a pristine carpet, lay their reason for being here; the tumbled shape of a ruined stone building. It was something of a long story how this huge ruined building, southwest of Lithgow in the middle of a Surdan grassland had come to be a place of importance. The summit, after all, was nearly a month ago. The headless body of the bomber had long been buried. However, all of his clothing and possessions had been carefully kept and preserved, in the hopes that they could find clues to whoever it was who seemed determined to sabotage the efforts of the Varden and Empire to work together. Kyemen had thought it rather a waste of time, but only four days ago, after it would seem that all clues had been found, fortune had smiled. Someone had found a secret pocket sewn into the lining of Felding's boot, containing an unsigned letter detailing this ruin as the site of an early meeting between Felding and the representatives of this mysterious third party. This had apparently aroused some hunting instincts, because as soon as this information about the letter had been passed down the information grapevine that Kyemen had helped set up, several people that had been at his neutral meeting had immediately volunteered to come and help him investigate the place. Considering just what their enemy seemed to be capable of, Kyemen had gladly accepted the help. He’d even called in a favor from an old… acquaintance.At last, Sierthra dropped the last few feet to the ground in what was perhaps the finest landing she had ever done, her claws touching the earth almost as lightly as a feather caressing the surface of a pond. The concussive beating of her wings ceased, leaving a sudden eerie silence in its absence. Immediately, Kyemen went about unstrapping Dolin’s legs from the saddle. The dwarf still did not move, and Kyemen wondered briefly if he was in some state of shock, but as he finished the last clasp, he discovered that he was wrong. Dolin wasn’t shocked, he was just waiting. As soon as the last strap was undone, the dwarf scrambled up, and jumped from the saddle with a speed and agility that Kyemen had never seen him exhibit before. Now, with Sierthra’s rate of growth over the past year, it was now a rather long way down from the saddle for a heavy mortal. The dwarf hit the ground with an enormous clatter of armor and weapons, collapsing to the grass like his stumpy legs didn’t work. Kyemen bit his lip, unsure whether or not to laugh or show concern. “Er…” He called down. “Are you alright?” The back of the iron helm he could see nodded once, and Kyemen thought he heard something like “fine, just need a moment.” Well, I guess that ends the dwarf’s first flying experience.[/Color] He thought to himself, shaking his head. The only question now is whether or not it would be the last. With a sigh, he swung his leg over and dropped from the saddle, landing lightly in an action that he had practiced a thousand times. Gods, you’re getting big. Never say that to a lady, especially one with claws. Shall I scout ahead?[/Color] Kyemen nodded, checking to make sure all of his weapons were in place. Please do. But stay high enough to be eagle-sized. If our friends left anyone behind to guard the ruin, I don’t want them getting tipped off. If we actually had someone alive to interrogate, Nasuada might actually start taking us seriously.[/Color] Sierthra bobbed her head once, then leapt back into the crimsoning sky, blasting the grass flat with the fury of her downdraft. Kyemen watched her go for a moment, then turned away to inspect their landing site. The others would be coming any minute now, he hoped, and he had to make sure the area was secure. The hunt had begun.[/size][/blockquote]
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Post by ARWEN REDFERN on Jun 9, 2010 8:09:42 GMT -5
{ FEEL IT COMIN' IN THE AIR AND THE SCREAMS FROM EVERYWHERE }I'M ADDICTED TO THE THRILL- - - - - - IT'S A DANGEROUS LOVE AFFAIR The old man didn't need to know she was going out. All she did was tell Murtagh that she would be out for a few days. He had tried to get her to tell the king herself, but she refused. Arwen grimaced slightly, knowing that Murtagh was probably going to be a whole lot of pain. She had prepared some fruits and some bandages for him and had left it on his bed before he left. She had also written a little 'sorry' note for him just to stay on the safe side. The girl hoped that he wouldn't try and come after her. She was on her horse. A pretty caramel looking mare that she called Brownie. Yes, it was a very childish name but she found that the name was sweet for the mare. The gal was a fighter and the mare was quite a fighter as well. The horse galloped through the empty plains and with a tug, she skidded to a stop. Narrowing her eyes, she found that there were about three people there already. Looks like she wasn't the first to arrive. She kicked Brownie into a trot as they both went down a hill to meet these strangers that the letter had informed her of. It sounded real important and Arwen really didn't care much if she was caught by the king.
Getting off her horse, she adjusted her dual blades and her black tunic. The leggings were ripped on purpose, and she really didn't care what others said about her appearance. She walked slowly towards the group. In a tone that would be considered loud, yet not in a yelling tone, she asked.
Excuse me. Are you part of the...er...group that's supposed to meet here? You know, the whole...investigation thing? Her blue eyes stared at the group, refusing to look weak. She was looking like an empire solider today, but they should know better if they happened to be the people that wanted help. She had even attended that meeting. She volunteered immediately for she knew she would be of some help. Arwen was good at killing. That's why she was a very well known assassin. She blinked at the group and then at the dragon that was flying away. One of them was a rider, that was for sure. With a sweet fake smile Arwen then said,
So...which one of you is called..err...Kyemen? That is his name...right? Arwen muttered under her breath at the last part, thinking what the name was. Truthfully, Arwen was pretty horrible at memorizing names. She clicked her tongue at her horse and Brownie came trotting towards her. With a gentle touch, she combed her fingers through the horse's hair. She gave them a grin as she then asked,
When are we gonna start the mission?
words short. tagged OP1 ppl notes OUTFIT. template PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
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Post by //|:Crim~Harrowmont:|\\ on Jun 9, 2010 13:07:25 GMT -5
CRIM HARROWMONT Arrows in the Sky Crim Harrowmont sighed, he was perched above the group that was appearing below him. he saw the Rider and was awed at the dragons grace. he drew his strung bow and slowly made his way down the path, ghosting from shadow to shadow. his white and black tunic was being surprisingly good camo against the birch trees, in the area. his short white hair spiked as normal, his leather outfit making no noise when he moved, his bow and sword shone strangely in the crimson light. he ghosted closer, drawing his bow, nocking and half drawing the arrow, holding it in place with one hand, he released the string ((also known as holding the bow and arrow still drawn with one hand, done by fimly but with even pressure securing the arrow with the hand that grips the bow.)) he adjusted his hair with his other hand before he stops just short of the group... he can feel the riders mind brushing at his, he opens it up freely. he has nothing to hide. he steps out into the open the symbol on his Glove had changed, it had become the Yawe, and he walked straight to the rider and dwarf, smiling at Arwen as he passed her. "Greetings Kyemen, I am Crim Harrowmont, I am an elven archer and i decided to lend the Varden my bow. i look forward to working with you sir." he then knelt and said something he had planned from the beginning, of when he first learned of the Varden Riders. "i pledge my self in fealty to you Rider. As i believe all riders for the varden are the last hope of this land. Use me for targets of long range, I am sure you will be pleased.."he remained kneeling, his white and black outfit standing in contrast to the ground, he bowed his head, awaiting the Riders choice. he spoke softly in the ancient language so that only the Rider would hear. "it would do me Honor to serve you sir."
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Tii
Junior Member
Posts: 61
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Post by Tii on Jun 10, 2010 4:26:56 GMT -5
Za’lyyr watched Siertha ascend, back into the air, her rider deposited on the ground. He wasn’t even sure the evergreen dragon knew he’d seen her up close. He had watched her from over a campfire, watched the way the light reflected on her scales. He had listened to her breath. He didn’t really understand how that may have come off as creepy to the people around him. Good thing is stayed in his head…well excluding Jekarta. She was amused, he could feel it radiating off of her as they flew. Should I say something to her for you? Then there was the throaty, mental chuckle she gave.
Za’lyyr just rolled his eyes and smiled. Eye rolling was becoming one of their favorite ways to communicate. It was done lovingly though, as was all of their little prods at each other. They had fallen so easily into step together. It still shocked both of them. How she’d known that they’d get along so well… how she’d chosen him. It blew his mind. He didn’t know how she’d done and how she so happened to choose her. He wasn’t going to question it though. It had worked out perfectly for them. He’d never had someone he whole heartedly called his friend until she’d come along.
They landed as quickly and easily as they could. They’d been spending all their time in the air. Well, as much of it as they could. Were it a possibility, they would have slept up there, maybe in the clouds. If there was a way to turn them into a bed, he would. That would be something incredible. Their landing wasn’t nearly as graceful as Siertha’s had been. Then again, they were a pair who had been riding for so, so long. They moved together so gracefully. It was perfection. Once they reached the ground, Za’lyyr vaulted off her back and to the ground. They walked side by side, Jekarta’s steps heavy at his side. She was by far the center of attention though. He was just an elf. He was graceful on his feet and his movements were like liquid. But Jekarta… She was lean and all muscle. She was pale gold that could look white or red depending on the light. The membranes of her wings were nearly translucent. The most visible thing was the sparkle of what looked like dusts of gold and diamond.
His lips pulled at a smile, focused only on one person. There was a reason for it. The second half to Siertha, who he’d sat around a fire with. They’d dropped their prejudices long enough to actually hold a legitimate conversation. Who knew. Za’lyyr stopped a small ways from him. Jekarta stayed by his side. She’d looked through him memories and seen the whole event. It was surprising, but she didn’t question what he’d done. She was content to let him step forward, her staying where she was. Za’lyyr waited quietly, observing a man who knelt in front of Kyemen. He waited until their moment passed and approached silently, slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. ”I did not expect to see you again outside the battlefield.”
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Jun 10, 2010 16:41:20 GMT -5
I had decided to make a new rule for myself. Next time I tried to kill someone, no matter who it was, I would get the job done.
That way, I wouldn’t have any debts shadowing over me like I did just now. Now, granted, Kyemen Straethir was one of the Varden’s oldest Riders. And I’d mistaken him for Eisolae Mylaestalai, a remarkably unattractive elf girl who’d betrayed my gang to run off and join the Empire. I hadn’t been able to kill her, either, and that fact grated in my head every hour of every day. However, I had yet to see anything of Eisolae’s meddling. Kyemen Straethir was far more eager to get the score settled. He’d had the gall to walk right into Cutthroat’s Saloon, the inn in Dras-Leona where I ran my entire smuggling operation, disguised as a weary traveller, asked for me, gotten me to take a walk with him, and then promptly had his big fat green lizard rush me and pin me to the ground. I’d been allowed to get up with my head still attached to my shoulders under the condition that I agree to aid him on some ridiculous mission.
Obviously, I liked living, and had been forced to agree. He’d been surprisingly open with the whole thing- a secret alliance between the Varden and the Empire, undercover ops, jail breaks, assassinations, the whole shebang. I was to help him with one particular mission that involved sneaking into some old abandoned fort in the hills of northern Surda in order to gain dirt on some mysterious group of vigilantes who were fond of picking on both the Empire and the Varden. Me, him, and a ragtag bunch of Vardeners and Imperials whose names I hadn’t bothered to remember would break in and get valuable information on the evils of the third party. Dun-dun-dunnn. There was probably more that he’d mentioned, but it was lost on me. At the time, I’d been too busy trying to not get eaten by Sierthra. And even then, she had done me the indignity of burning my backside. It was amazing how I could take sitting for granted.
That was probably why I’d turned down a horse- elves could lope faster than those stinking mongrels could run anyway- and had jogged all the way to Surda. However, I was neither as young nor as fit as I’d used to be, and the constant pounding of my feet hitting the ground was starting to wear me down. I’d be a wreck by the time I reached the fortress. To make matters worse, I’d been joined by a young elf woman barely out of adolescence who moved smoothly beside me, and even waited for me when I had to stop for a rest. It was for various reasons, she said- we were going the same direction, I was one of the few who could keep up with her, and she enjoyed mocking me. However, she’d also mentioned something about me being different from other elves. She herself stuck out like a sore thumb, as well- despite being tall, attractive, and in dire need of some meat on her bones, as well as a total bitch, she had a strong accent that suggested she was not from Alagaësia, hated her own kind, and practiced dark magic more suited to a Shade. She also dressed in revealing, dark-coloured clothing.
I glanced over at her as she loped easily beside me, her steely grey eyes firmly set on the hills in front of her. Her pale skin was made more obvious by the thick black hair that tumbled around her shoulders as well as the warm glow of the setting sun. Her lips were painted red, her eyes edged with black kohl and dusted with silver mineral powders, while the tips of her hair had been curled so that they bounced slightly in the wind. She was wearing strapped shiny leather boots that were massively heeled. On her legs, all she had was something ridiculously tight that resembled a fishnet, while her top was covered with nothing but the tightest corset I’d ever seen that practically left her entire breasts bare. All her arms had were fingerless black gloves that only reached her forearms. I wasn’t about to say that it wasn’t nice to look at, and it was intriguing to see such a racy elf, but I couldn’t help but wonder how so little armour would serve her on a mission like this. She was clearly very confident in her stealth and magical abilities, then.
“Do not look at my breasts. ‘Tis most irritating.” “Oh, my apologies, Miss Moulin Rouge,” I said cattily. “‘Moulin Rouge’? What is this? If you must know my name…” “Lemme guess. Lorelei? Miss Kitty? Lilith?” “Moody, are we? I’m guessing you came here against your will?” “Straethir and I are… old acquaintances.” “Old debts?” “Yeah.” “Ah.” She looked forward again. “Then you may want to prepare your speech. We’re nearly there.”
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The fortress that rose majestically out of the surrounding hills was an old and powerful thing. It was from before the ridiculous humans had infested this land, maybe even before the elves of Alagaësia had snaked their fingers into its roots. It was an ancient thing, and I was excited to reach it. In fact, this entire mission had me excited. For the past few months, I had been the swamp witch. The vulture. The snake. And then, out of the blue, I had been invited to a secretive meeting where I’d been asked to participate in destroying the infection currently crushing Alagaësia, as well as taking out the mysterious third party that had thrown the bomb at the Summit. I had even been asked to join the very first operation. Happy and proud, I’d obviously accepted, and now here I was.
Well, barring the middle-aged elf who’d been heaving along beside me for the past few hours. I gave him a sideways glance. He was tall and thin, but with far more defined muscles than most elves. His features had also been magically altered so that, though still somewhat feminine in appearance, he looked human. His age probably also helped that fact- he was well over three hundred years old, and the streaks of grey in his stubble and raven-black hair attested to that fact. He also lacked the magical abilities necessary for keeping an elf looking young. However, he was still attractive, although it had clearly been some time since he had done anything worth exerting over- he got tired every couple of hours or so. Smirking coldly, I looked back at the ever-nearing fortress. At least he was entertaining, and alleviated the boredom of running through hills.
As we headed into the valley that the ruins were built into, feeling my thighs begin to burn with the effort of slowing myself down, I saw a massive green beast rise from the valley floor, beating its wings before circling and taking off into the glowing sky. I heard the male elf mutter something notably rude under his breath. That had to be Sierthra, then. I had seen her various times from this distance, but had never met her or her Rider. As the dragon flew off, she was immediately replaced by another of her kind, who was pale golden and much smaller than her predecessor. What was her name?... Jekarta. I was not well versed with the names of the Imperial dragons. As far as I knew, she was the only dragon who would be accompanying us on our mission. As for the rest? A pile of elves, even a filthy half-elf, and one measly dwarf. I would have no mortals to entertain myself with. This fouled my mood a bit, especially when I saw the crowd down below.
I easily picked out Kyemen Straethir, appearing to be using a great deal of energy to appear tall and unwavering as the operation members arrived. Standing closest to him was a tiny, stout little man- the dwarf, no doubt. A woman- no, a girl, who was very short and had the roundness of a human and yet possessed pointed ears, was approaching Straethir. Ooh, that would be the little half-elf. She would be amusing to harass. A white-haired elf had also appeared, but I failed to recognize him. The last person to have arrived was Za’lyyr, Jekarta’s Rider. That was everyone, then. We were late. Chuckling darkly, I increased my speed, approaching the little group with the male elf right on my tail. I slowed to a halt a respectable distance away.
“Tardy, are we?” I said in silky tones. “I do hope you can find it in your heart to pardon us, Sir Straethir.” “Well,” said the middle-aged elf as he halted beside me. “Here I am.” He raised his arms in mock innocence, glaring right at Straethir. “I’ll do my best not to fill your ass with poison darts again.”
Words;; 1500 Muse;; AWFUL. Thoughts;; IT SUCKS!!! But seeing as I'm like, the second-last person who needs to post, I rushed it. DX
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Kite
Junior Member
Now past the 1 year mark
Posts: 127
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Post by Kite on Jun 17, 2010 16:55:59 GMT -5
*Salmissra sweeps her wings once more before letting the air float her towards where they see a familiar dragon on the ground. She circles the area once, lower than Siertha above her and Daran, her rider and bond-mate, then they come in for a slow landing, landing as gently as possible. They had practiced this whenever they hand to land, but not quite gotten it down, so they made a large thumping noise when they landed. Salmissra looked at those around them and made a soft growl, attempting to portray a grunt of apology, and feels Daran's hand pat the base of her neck before she feels his weight slip off of her back, and shes rolls the joints connecting her legs to her torso to stretch them out a bit. Salmissra, being a sleek dragon of a beautiful chocolate-y hue, was not meant for strength of legs, but was known rather for her strength of wing, being a flyer rather than a brute of a dragon. The landings were no problem for her, but with Daran on her back sometimes they could wear her down. She would deal with it, because her love for her partner was greater than he love of being hella lazy. Daran smiles at those gathered, and adjusts the sword on his back. The longsword her carried, a Kriegsmesser, was a problem sometimes when he flew with his beloved Salmissra, as it might stab or cut her if he was not careful, so he puts it in a comfortable but not combat ready position while they flew, and just adjusted it after. He nods to Za'lyyr, a... colleague of his, if the word fits, and the man he knew best of those assembled. Not that that said much, because he didn't interact with the elf all that often. He then looks to the woman with dual blades on her back, and recognizes her from Uru'baen. She trained often in the castle, and he had seen her around. Again, as is the case with many in Uru'baen, his increased time there didn't result in increased face time with those around him. The others, apart from Kyemen whom he had seen at the Summit and the meeting, he didn't recognize. He did not recognize the elf kneeling before Kyemen in a way that suggested he was pledged to Kyemen. He did not recognize the Dwarf that was standing near Kyemen, and Daran certainly did not recognize the Male and Female elves that had come in by foot. He was reasonably sure they all belonged here, as there was no fighting yet, so Daran gave them a slight trust. He trusted them to not attack him, for instance, but not to tell them secrets. He trusted them to be non-hostile. He did not trust them enough to let them ride Salmissra. He trusted them to do their jobs, but not to help needlessly. He thought this was wise, and felt agreement from his bond-mate. Daran walks up to the group and looks at all of them, sizing them up in his head, and then speaks softly, cheerfully.* Hello, my friends. I trust your travels went un-molested?*NOTES: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kriegsmesser <--- Daran's Sword)
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Post by Angmor on Jun 24, 2010 8:09:40 GMT -5
Kyemen had only just begun his survey when his sharp eyes caught movement to th west. Turning to focus, he was able to pick out the distinctive shape of a horse moving swiftly over the grass, occassionally vanishing into a dip before resurfacing again on the next hilltop. He could not make out much of the Rider, only that the figure was relatively small, probably a female. So much for getting here early… [/Color] He said to Sierthra, giving her thoughts the mental equivalent of a playful shove. They’re still a few minutes out.[/Color] She pointed out defensively. Punctuality was always a sore point for someone that had built a reputation for being able to outrun anything that moved. Besides, I bet she didn’t have to fly all the way to Lithgow before coming here… I know, I know. I was kidding. What do you have for me up there?[/Color] They had been drilling this for some time now, and so now it only took a moment before the walls that separated their identities faded away, and Kyemen found himself within Sierthra’s head, literally looking down at the world through her eyes. It always brought a brief moment of vertigo, suddenly finding himself in the air while his feet were still firmly planted on the ground. With her vision, the landscape he had just seen himself took on an entirely different scope and feel. All the blacks and golds he had seen so brilliantly were now more dull and subdued, the world taking on the slightest green tint. He found himself more spacially aware than he was with his own perceptions, able to gauge depths and distances with a clarity that was still breathtaking, even after all this time. For a moment, he wished that he could simply lose himself within her mind, free of the petty limitaions of his body and away from the pressures and concerns of his life. But then he remembered all the people that were starving in the land to the north, suffering under the ravages of a plague that so far remained unstoppable, and the people that had met in this place at one time where at least partially responsible. Now was not the time for revelry. Now was time to go to work. Through Sierthra's eyes, the contours of the ruins were a bit clearer. Although the outlines were somewhat obscured by the tumbledown condition of the stonework, the building appeared to be laid out in four great piers, thrusting themselves outward from a hexagonal core like the points of a compass. With the moving speck that was the approaching rider providing scale, he could see that the place was huge, much bigger than he thought it would be. It was at least tall enough to have four storeys in some places, and, though he wouldn't quite use the word massive, it seemed strange to him that something so large would go mostly unnoticed before now. The locals were probably scared of it for some reason, and everyone else in Surda who might be interested were probably too busy. Another odd thing was how the landscape seemed to reject the place. The grasslands continued right up to the buildings foot and continued on around like nothing was there, as if the whole structure had fallen from the sky. He was reminded again of a child's structure made out of wooden blocks, partially scattered over an otherwise pristine floor. The building's original architecture was hard to make out, but Kyemen caught glimpses of ramps, terraces, pillars and dark windows, all rendered in graceful curves and natural shapes before most of it gave way to the ravages of time. All in all, you couldn't quite hide an army in there, but you could certainly hide a battalion or two. As he finished these observations, Sierthra drew his attention with a gentle tug. There was another brief feeling of vertigo as her eyes focused much more, giving him a closer view of the outermost point the ruin's west pier. Very conspicuously against the otherwise pristine grass, a large pile of stones had been placed, clearing a large, dark hole that led into the side of the building. Someone had obviously carved their own entrance within the past year. They had the right place. The only question was, had they used it only for a convenient meeting place, or had they actually gone in and set up shop? With the former, this coud very well be a wasted night. If the latter... Well, it was bound to get rather exciting. Coming back to his own head was usually a bit like surfacing from warm water on a cold day, not exactly pleasant, but more pleasant than drowning. Suddenly he was aware of all the ambients noises he hadn't noticed before, like the chirping of crickets, the sound of the breeze in the grass, and the hoofbeats of the approaching horse. And yet, the outlines of the world seemed oddly obscured, as if by an invisible covering of mist. He knew however that this was merely a side-effect of melding with Sierthra, and that it would pass just as soon as he got used to using his own senses again. While his hearing was much keener than Sierthra, even his elven eyes could not compare with her predator's vision. He noticed after a moment that Dolin was looking at him with an odd expression on his bearded face. Kyemen remembered that he had never seen him do something like that since the bodyguard had been assiggned, and imagined that it had to rather unsettling when the person he was assigned to protect simply start staring blankly into the distance, dead to the world. "Is the area secure?" Kyemen asked, more to show that he was alright and it was all routine than to get the question answered. Dolin merely nodded, going back to sharpening his sword. A dwarf of few words, that one. Simply going about his business, offering no complaints or opinions, doing whatever he had to do to fulfil his orders, and no more. A soldier through and through. Kyemen blew out a breath. Well, if the area was secure, and the target was mapped out as best as possible, now it was time to assemble the team... At that moment, the dull sound of hoofbeats reached a crescendo, and the horse and rider crested the hill, pulling to a stop at the foot of the hollow. The rider dismounted, and Kyemen recognized the earnest face of Arwen Redfern. They had first met when he had called together his secret meeting outside of Melian a week before. When he had begun to ask for volunteers to assist him with this matter, she had practically jumped up and down to offer her service. She had claimed to be a very skilled assassin, swordswoman, archer, rider, diplomat... pretty much everything, really. She could look the part, certainly; With her practical black leather armors and weapon hilts peeking over both shoulders, she definitely looked like something you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley if she was after your hide. That was until, however, she opened her mouth to speak. "Excuse me, are you a part of the... er... group that's supposed to meet here? You know, the whole... investigation thing?" Kyemen nodded his head dumbly, barely managing to keep his surprise from his face. This was the accomplished sword-horse-bow-woman? She looked to be a young woman in her twenties or thirties, and yet she spoke like a schoolgirl. And yet... there was something about her face, as if it was just too perfect to belong to a human. Hadn't the file he'd read on her said that he was a half-elf? He wasn't quite sure... Not detered by his silence, the girl seemed to take his nod at face value. She glanced between Dolin and himself, as if she couldn't quite decide something. "So which one of you is called... err... Kyemen? That is his name, right?" Kyemen blinked. Now, the only other person in the clearing was Dolin, a dwarf. And Arwen knew that she had been contacted by Kyemen Straethir, and it was known all over the Empire that Kyemen Straethir was a Rider. It was also common knowledge for this who cared to study it that dwarves were never Riders. So, either this woman was ignorant of history, or simply did not want to work out a basic deduction. He felt several more of his expectations bite the dust. "That would be me." He answered, bowing his head slightly. "Welcome." She bowed in return, her curled tresses falling over her shoulders. "When are we gonna start the missiom." ...And she was apparently ignorant of what exactly they would be doing here as well. Great. Just great. "Just as soon as the others arrive." He said. "That should be soon..." He Trailed off, a sudden odd sensation sweeping over him. He wasn't able to tell exactly how he knew, but there was something wrong, as if the silence behind him had just become a little too dense. Whatever it was, a hundred years of being hunted through the Empire had taught him one thing; if something seemed off, ignoring the feeling was a good way to end up dead. He turned around, his right hand finding the hilt of the long knife at his waist, a quicker draw than his sword if he needed to block something in a hurry... Sure enough, standing behind him was a rather odd looking figure. It was immediately apparent that the newcomer was an elf. Very few others could move that silently, even if his pointed ears and angular features were not prominently visible. The first thing he noticed was the elf's hair. While elves with such pale hair were not uncommon, he had never before seen the odd spikes this fellow sported on his head, held in place perhaps by some spell, treatment... other things. The things almost looked long enough to pose a combat advantage. The second thing he noticed was the newcomer's choice in garments, a sort of black and white ensemble that looked to be all buckles and straps. All in all, it was not the oddest piece of elven fashion he had ever seen, but it was getting there. The things he noticed the most, however, were the sword slung across his back and the strung and drawn bow in his hands. Both weapons, Kyemen saw, were incredibly ornate, obviously with a lot of care into their making, though he wondered a bit at the practicallity of such devices. The elf bowed slightly, touching his fingers to his lips. "Greetings Kyemen." He said. "I am Crim Harrowmont." Ah yes, Kyemen remembered that he had seen this elf before, if at a distance, in the dark. He had invited him to the secret meeting, banking on the chance that the elf would be young enough not to have a debilitating hatred of the Empire. That was about the only thing Kyemen knew though, beyond the fact that he had volunteered specifically for this operation. "I am an elven archer, and I decided to lend the Varden my bow." Harrowmont continued. Kyemen wasn't sure, but his tone almost sounded reverant...At that moment, to his complete astonishment, Harrowmont kneeled before him as if he was some kind of ruler, head bowed, speaking with such heartfelt emotion that it sounded like he had practiced it many times to himself and was overwhelmed that the moment had finally come. "I pldge myself in fealty to you, Rider. As I believe all Riders for the Varden are the last hope of this land. Use me for targets of long range, I am sure you will be pleased." He looked up, eyes hopeful as he spoke in the Ancient Language. "It would do me honor to serve you, sir." Kyemen felt his heart sink like a stone into a dark lake. what the hell was he supposed to say to that?While his becoming a Rider had exposed him to all kinds of strange situations, but this one was entirely new. Throughout his time with the Varden, he had always considered himself having the role of a special soldier, doing whatever his superiors ordered him to, being an asset to be moved around on the map. He had never really held himself up as being in a position of leadership, possessing some kind of power of his own that others might want to swear allegiance to, as if he had his own banner or creed. But, then again, he never pictured himself going behind the backs of his superiors and arranging a secret alliance of factions, either. So perhaps it was not such an unusual that this young elf -and he was young, Kyemen realized now- would wish to sell his service in an act of blind fervor. The only question was, what should he do about it? Should he make light of it, and laugh it off as the act of an inexperienced youth? Should he flatly refuse? Or... No, better not to risk hurt feelings on the eave of an operation that he was set to lead. Yes, he knew now what he had to do. In as regal a motion as he could muster, he set a hand on Crim's shoulder. Wow, Nasuada made it look much easier than it was, apparently. "You do me a very great honor, Crim Harrowmont." He said, making sure that his voice carried the due gravity. As he spoke however, his ears were filled with the distinctive percussive wingbeats of a flying dragon, although softer and in a higher pitch than Sierthra's. He looked up, catching a flash of gold out of his peripheral vision. Ah, more arrivals. Better make this quick, then. He turned his attention back to the elf before him. "You do me honor, and I do not doubt the purity of your intentions. But I warn you, to consider what you are doing. You do not know me, and all you have to judge of me are the stories of my exploits that only come to the Guarding Forest after being exaggerated by many tongues. You are still young yet, and skilled, and there is much you can do with your life. Do not rashly sell away your service to one who may not be worthy." As he was speaking, the now well known figure of a dragon swooped into view. This one was much smaller and younger than Sierthra, and her scales were of a dsuky, red-gold hue in the fading light. Although her small frame was undeveloped, Kyemen could already tell that she would be a powerful flyer later in life, lithe of wing and supple in limp. As it stood now, however, she was only just large enough to carry a Rider on her back, and the landing on the other side of the hollow was somewhat ungainly and awkward. But the potential was definitely there. As he watched, the Rider dismounted, and both began to make their way towards him. "Here is what I ask of you." Kyemen continued, hand still on Crim's shoulder. "Let me lead you in tonight's activities. You can see then if I am worthy of your trust. After we are finished, if you are still bound and determined, then I will accept your service." He took a step back, smiling. "Reisa, Crim-finariel." Harrowmont obeyed, a frown on his face. Apparently, that was not what he had been expecting at all. Still, he nodded his assent, and turned away. Kyemen sighed inwardly in relief, feeling his hands shake slightly. I'm sure glad that's over...[/Color] "I did not expect to see you again outside the battlefield." Ah yes. Kyemen figured he'd be able to recognize that distinctive lack of a tone anywhere. He'd not yet met anyone else who could make their voice carry no meaning beyond the words themselves. He smiled slightly, turning to the newcomer. "Aye Za'lyyr." He answered. "But I think that you and I both are starting to understand just how funny the world can be." It was true. He'd first met this mysterious elf named Za'lyyr when he and Sierthra had been on their way to the Summit from Du Weldenvarden. When they had stopped flying to camp by the river for the night, Za'lyyr had already been there. Now naturally, with a Varden Rider and an elven servant of Galbatorix meeting in the midd of the Empire, things were at first a bit... tense. But Kyemen had been much too tired and worn out to initiate a fight, and Za'lyyr probably just didn't fancy his chances with a fully grown dragon sleeping nearby, or perhaps some orders he had received because of the Peace Summit a few days later. Whatever it was, what followed was one of the oddest experiences of Kyemen's odd life, sitting by the campfire with someone sworn to be his mortal enemy, sharing introductions, stories, and other rambling bits of exhausted conversation. He'd even fallen asleep at the end of it, right in front of an elf who would probably have liked nothing better than to kill him. When he finally woke up, there was no sign of anything that had gone on the night before, except for a single finely-crafted elven dagger stuck into the bole of a nearby tree. The message had been pretty clear. I could have. But I didn't.Kyemen still had the dagger. At the time, he had taken it as a sign of good fortune for the Summit ahead. After the Summit went bad, however, he'd remembered it as a sign that Za'lyyr was an elf of honor, and one of the first to be invited to his secret meeting. It had only been at that meeting where he had discovered that Za'lyyr had become a Rider, although he couldn't say as he was surprised. Jekarta just seemed to fit at his side, somehow, as if she had always been there. He inclined his head to her in greeting, wondering just how Sierthra would take to working with another dragon for the first time in quite a while. And one of the Empire's dragons, at that. I'm perfectly willing to be civil.[/Color] She cut in, pciking up on his thought. Even if she is one of the king's bootlickers...Kyemen smiled inwardly. Would you protect her from getting killed?[/Color] Sierthra sniffed, as if the very implication offended her. Kyemen, she is a dragon. Unlike much of your sorry race, we can look after ourselves. Ooh, heads up. I've got two moving in from the north.[/Color] Kyemen turned, sqinting. Sure enough, he was able to make two dark shapes moving fast over the hills as fast as a galloping horse. He relaxed a bit. Only elves could move that fast, which probably meant that one of these two was the person he had really been waiting for. Kyemen's relationship with Kieran Kjolborn had been destined to be an odd one right from the begining. They had met back before the invasion of Feinster, when Kyemen was infiltrating the city to meet with a contact. Kieran, he'd learned later, had been in the city to hunt down a former associate of his who had stolen money from Kieran's crime-syndicate and made a break for it. Oddly enough, Kieran had mistaken Kyemen for his target, and what followed was a thoroughly odd cat-and-mouse game that involved Kieran throwing knives at him, his breaking to Kieran's mind, Kieran piercing him with poison darts, and both of them getting captured by the Empire. By the time they'd been lifted out of the hot-zone by Sierthra's timely intervention, he'd had pretty much the worst day of his life. Afterwords, both of them knew that Kieran richly deserved to have his head taken off. Kyemen however spared the other elf, for reasons best known to himself. Of course, he did admit that he had a secondary motive. He knew it would come in handy to have the leader of a crime syndicate owing him one. And of course, when he had learned that he was perhaps going to be raiding the lair of several members of the thieves guild, Kyemen figured it was a good time for the debt to be squared. Or it least, on its way toward being squared. He hadn't mentioned that to Kieran. As the elves drew closer, Kyemen was eventually able to make out the form of the other approaching figure. She wasn't exactly hiding, that was for sure. This was had to be Laioni. He'd rather gone out on a limb inviting her to his secret meeting. There wasn't a whole lot known about her in the Varden archives, even if she was officially a member. But it was mostly apparent that the hled both the Varden and the Empire with equal contempt, which meant that she would not likely be initiating hostilities and wreck this whole alliance, and her proficiency with the more unorthadox kinds of magics was something that he wanted to have around, just in case. As the elves skidded to a halt in front of him, he wondered now if it was worth it. Standing before him was someone who very clearly wished to be somewhere else, wearing an outfit that was usually restricted to houses of ill repute in the Dras-Leona underworld, about as practical for combat as full-plate armor was for ballroom dancing. Kyemen found himself repulsed by her appearance in much the same way as in the presence of Malandra Ramakrishna. Femanine attributes were all well and good, but there was definitely such a thing as too much. "Tardy are we?" Laioni said, her tone indicating that she was not the least bit sorry. "I hope you can find it in your heart to pardon us, Sir Straethir." Although the sarcasm was practically blowing his hair back, Kyemen took it as a milestone. It was the first time he could remember where he had ever been called Sir Straethir. "Well, here I am." Said Kieran in that slightly drawling tone that always made Kyemen think that the words were coming out lopsided. "I'll do my best not to fill your ass with poison darts again." "That would be greatly appreciated," Kyemen shot back. "by me and by Sierthra." The gangster before him flinched visibly at the mention of the dragon's name, his steely eyes darting to the sky as if she was hanging in the air just above him with a maniacal smile. Kyemen hated himself for chuckling inwardly at the reaction, but figured it was necissary. Now Kieran would know exactly what was in it for him, he would be motivated. That would help considering how much Kyemen was about to rely on him in the coming operation. As he was thinking this, he felt a breeze stir his hair. He looked up, findding the circling shape of this operation's last-minute addition. Gods, it was begining to feel like he was running a dragon convention. As with most of the Imperial Riders, he'd figured that inviting Don Myth and his dragon Salmissra. As far as Kyemen had seen, it was characteristic of the pair to have not really have been very committal about volunteering for anything in particular, just expressing a general availability to go where they might be needed. After all the roles of each operation had been filled, Kyemen and Taraak had found that they didn't really have a place. So Kyemen just decided to stick them in here, figuring that if the lead on the ruins was a bust, it wouldn't make much difference if there were two more heads shaking in disappointment. And if it wasn't... Well, no kill like overkill. He watched, blinking against the downdraft as Salmissra maneuvered herself into a strictly functional landing. Ah, I've been wondering about this one.[/Color] Said Sierthra, no doubt looking on from her high vantage. What's she like? Well, she's a dragon.[/Color] Kyemen stated clinically. Brown scales, two wings, four legs, a head and a tail. You now know as much as I do.[/Color] Her Rider was about the same. Kyemen watched carefully as Myth dismounted and strode toward the group. In stark contrast with Za'lyyr's striking elven-ness, this man was very human, from the set of his face to the cut of his clothing to the wood-bound hilt of the sword over his shoulder. Nothing special. Together with Salmissra's more subdued color compared to most dragons, they made for a much more unobtrusive pair. And that, in Kyemen's mind, made them infinitely more likely to be a great threat in the future. He immediately felt a lot better about having them on his side. For now. "Hello friends." Myth said, his tone cool as he joined what had so rapidly become a throng. "I trust your travels went unmolested." As he said it, it occurred to Kyemen for the first time that it might have slightly disturbing implications that two Riders of the Empire, plus a few more, were standing here almost in the geographical center of Surda, and no one in Aberon was the wiser. He would need to do something about that when he had time. "More or less." He answered, bowing slightly in greeting to the newly arrived Rider. "And now I think, at last, we are all here." It seemed impossible, but it was true. Everyone who had volunteered had come, and Kyemen suddenly found himself surrounded by people. Strangely, the number had looked so much smaller on paper. It struck him for the first time just what he had done here. He had actually gone out, in defiance of his superiors, and assembled what pretty much equated to a small army. Granted, most members of that alliance were out for someone besides him, but still. He wasn’t sure whether to congratulate himself at his accomplishment or to be disturbed at the power he wielded. But there would be time for that later. For the moment, all of these people were looking to him, waiting for him to provide direction for the madness. He blew out a breath. Here we go.[/Color] “Well,” He said. “I thank you all for coming. It takes courage for many of you to be here in secret, and I thank you for it. I assume that most of you know why we’re here, but I’ll briefly sum up just in case. About a week ago, we discovered a hidden letter in the possessions of the bomber. That letter detailed this ruin just over the hill as the site of a meeting between him and the leaders of our mysterious third party. Those ruins are tonight’s target. Now, I would have you go see them, but all of us trooping over the hill would probably get us spotted if they have anyone in there. So…” He turned away, turning his eyes to the loose dirt of the hollow’s floor. “Steinr reisa.” He muttered under his breath, closing his eyes and bringing up the image that Sierthra had sent him of the ruin, recalling it as vividly as possible. When he opened his eyes again, he was faced with an almost perfect miniature simulacrum of the ruin, like a child’s sandcastle taken to the next level. Yes, that would do nicely for the planning. “As you can see,” He continued, pointing. “Someone has dug a way in down here sometime fairly recently. Now, for all we know, they just used this spot as a handy meeting point and abandoned it later. However, with a place this large, they could be doing something far more sinister in there. From what we’ve seen of these people, they have an incredible amount of resources, and little would surprise me anymore. That’s why I’ve called you here. If this place is crawling with enemies, I didn’t fancy the odds with just Sierthra and myself. But I’m sure that with all the assembled skillsets here, we’ll do just fine so long as we plan correctly. So far, it seems that the leaders of this party are members of the Thieves Guild. I don’t really know how such men think, and that worries me.” He turned to Kieran. “That’s one reason why I brought you here.” Kieran, after all, had his own group of criminals set up, and that was pretty much the same thing, wasn’t it? He pointed to the model. “If you had something valuable in here, with… we’ll say ‘good’ to ‘rather impressive’ levels of resources, what would you do?”[/size][/blockquote] IT'S DONE!!! Wow, I feel like Frodo destroying the ring here. Well, I'm not even going to bother to edit this thing, so I apologize in advance for typos, bad spacings, punctuation, and clunky sentence structure. With how long it took, I think you can forgive me if I don't want to spend any more time on it. All of my other posts will hopefully be shorter and much faster. Ok, I'm going to need Emma to break posting order and post next with Kieran. So Arwen, don't go just yet.
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Jun 24, 2010 9:43:14 GMT -5
I found myself more than a little peeved at Kyemen Straethir.
Sierthra was nowhere in sight, and that was far scarier than if she was in proper view. As far as I knew, she could be hiding behind one of the rocks, waiting to pounce like some freakish oversized cat. To make matters worse, there were two other dragons present, both big enough to bite my head off. I also wasn’t comfortable with the number of elves here. I was surprised that Straethir had taken so many of them on, considering that he had been banished from Du Weldenvarden. I just found them alien and highly irritating, despite being one myself. In short, I was completely out of my element here. If Malekai didn’t show up like he was supposed to, heads would roll. I hardly paid attention at all to Straethir as he spoke, instead trying not to make it too obvious as I glanced about, trying to pick out possible escape routes. Screw the debts. Until knife-ears made me a better deal, I’d-
“That’s one reason why I brought you here.” The damned Rider was looking at me again, and behind the glazed look of hatred I could see that he was laughing at me. Ooh, he was going to get it. “If you had something valuable in here, with… we’ll say ‘good’ to ‘rather impressive’ levels of resources, what would you do?”
Desperately, I tried to remember what he’d just been saying. Something about the Thieves Guild, one of the Enclave’s biggest enemies… what, the Thieves Guild was in on this? My thoughts of escape and fear immediately drained away, replaced by hard-bred revulsion towards the Enclave’s only worthy opposing syndicate. Well, then. It seemed that I’d be getting something out of nothing after all. Originally, I’d been planning to pepper Straethir with insults until he sent that fatass of a lizard after me, but remembering the roasting I was bound to get, I decided to play it his way. Although I wasn’t sure why he’d asked me, being at the top of his to-kill list, personally. Maybe he wanted to make me look like an even bigger idiot than I already did. Maybe he was playing a little game underneath that careful, but nonetheless fake mask of honour and duty. Or maybe he just knew that I was the only one here with illegal expertise, but there had to be some ulterior motives going on in that tiny elf brain of his.
“Well…” I eyed the little model, my mind running over how to answer Straethir’s question without giving too much of the Enclave away to him and the other windbags who slavered over him. “A lot would be devoted to increasin’, or at least keepin’ a steady supply of the cash goin’. The rest could be used for a lotta things, but it really depends on the ringleader. Usually it’s expansion, political dominion, sometimes just to get rich… but somethin’ like this, I’d say the operations are way more important than any particular member, enough to have its workers livin’ like dogs and be killed off the moment they’re of no more use to the big guys.” Then I frowned. “Thieves Guild is mostly into protectin’ its members. I never woulda guessed they’d be into this, or at least not the entire guild. Might be freelancers who wanna break away.” I shrugged, stepping away from the model, and more importantly, Straethir. “That’s my guess, anyway. Dunno more till we get in there.”
Words;; 587. BLEH. Muse;; Awful! Thoughts;; So puny and horrendous that I refuse to even call it a real post.
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Post by Angmor on Jun 26, 2010 13:48:34 GMT -5
Kyemen frowned inwardly. This hadn't really been the kind of answer that he had been looking for, and that bothered him. He'd more been asking what they might expect to come up against in their, not really a speculation of what title a possible snarling attacker might have. Maybe taking all that time and effort dodging Nasuada's watchdogs to get Kieran into the fold hadn't been all that clever after all. Still, he was here now, and Kyemen would make use of that expertise while he had it. Besides, it would come down to a rather large amount of prudent improvisation no matter what happened, so it wasn't as if it made much difference.
“Well, you heard the man.” He said, turning to widen his focus to the rest of the gathering. “This place is big enough to house an entire self-contained operation, which can have anything between… What, twenty to thirty people?” Kieran nodded once. Kyemen continued. “Beyond that, they could be doing anything in there from growing drugs to counterfeiting coin. Hell, they might even be waiting for us.” He stopped a moment, finding himself somewhat disturbed by the prospect. He thought back to when he had been discussing with Taraak about these operations, and he had suggested this particular one on the strength of the note found on the bomber. When he’d said it, Taraak had merely stared at him with those strange eyes, giving him a look that made him feel like there was some joke he didn’t get. ”What?” He’d asked. ”Nothing.” They spy had said finally. ”Absolutely nothing.” Kyemen shook off the feeling of dread. This operation had to be done, no matter what it took.
“So, if there is anyone in there, our objective has to be to catch a few of them alive.” He continued. “We need information about who these people are and what they’re trying to do. Since I can’t really see any other way in, we’ll enter through this excavated bit we’ll have to move fast, because as soon as we round this hill, any lookout will have a very good chance of spotting us. Crim, Za’lyyr?” He turned to the two members of the group whom he knew had prowess with the bow. “I want you two outside that hole covering our backs and sealing the box in case any get past us. Remember, aim to wound.” He turned to the two dragons present. “Since there isn’t really for you two inside, I’d like you to join Sierthra in the air. Unless they’re fatally stupid, they’ll have other ways out of there, so I want you three ready to waylay any who bolt. Pin them, snatch them off the ground, blow them flat with your wings, I don’t care, just stop as many as you can from leaving.” Of course, the site of a dragon swooping down at you like the wrath of the gods would probably be enough to stop anyone in their tracks, but he couldn’t count on that. “Everyone else, I guess, we’ll just be going down the hole. From there, it will be all guesswork, so keep your blades ready.” He looked up, getting ready to let the model fade back into the sand. “Any questions?” [/blockquote] Ok, regular posting order resumes from here out. So it's your turn, Kyou. I'm not sure if we want to continue on this vane, or just go on from here with our characters simply taking position without comment. That's up to you guys.
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Post by ARWEN REDFERN on Jun 26, 2010 22:01:22 GMT -5
{ FEEL IT COMIN' IN THE AIR AND THE SCREAMS FROM EVERYWHERE }I'M ADDICTED TO THE THRILL- - - - - - IT'S A DANGEROUS LOVE AFFAIR The man, Kyeman Kyemen introduced himself. It was a completely stupid question, but whatever. Arwen couldn't stop her stupid mouth from blabbing. She gracefully smiled at him before she bowed back, her dark curls fell in front bouncing slightly. She then sort of remained quiet as he told her that the other needed to arrive first. Alright, so starting off wasn't exactly something she was good at. Lesson one failed. She felt like bashing her head against the horse, but held her head high while pretending to be interested in her horse. Her blue eyes flickered towards the man that was approaching Kyemen. It was Crim. Yes, she knew him. She offered him a light refreshing smile before watching him kneel down to Kyemen. Her blue eyes widened in surprise slightly. Damn. She should of done that! He looked much more sincere! He was doing everything so elvish style, Arwen couldn't help but stare at him slightly. Damn, he was good. Addition to that, he spoke in Ancient Langauge. Arwen understood everything, since she was trained in elvish and she sort of knew but didn't know how to speak it all. At least she knew what he was saying.
Oh god. I can't believe myself...
[/i] Her thoughts were petrifying herself. A sound from behind caught her attention and to her surprise it was another rider! An elven one by the looks of it. Hey, wait a second... She knew him! Well, by name but she had never actually talked to him before...Arwen forced herself to smile at the newcomer as she watched him go towards Kyemen. The elf was one of the empire riders. Was he the one that Osiris was talking about once? She wasn't sure. His voice was soft and to her surprise, she actually liked the sound of his voice. She had an urge to shake her head. No! Bad Arwen! She knew she shouldn't like a rider in the empire! This guy was...evil! Well, insane enough to work for the empire. In his own free will too! She then turned once again to see another person come into view. It was a woman this time. She didn't know her, but she remembered seeing the woman at the meeting. The woman had shot a glance at her and was smirking. Arwen was annoyed. It felt as if the woman was laughing at her. A cold look came upon her usually happy face. She prayed that she wouldn't have to kill her when she got the chance. She faked a smile towards the other woman, before looking coldly at the woman with a mean look on her face. Stupid nobles. Looking up in the sky, she spotted another dragon. Seriously. How many Riders did they really need for this mission?! It was going to be over fast, wasn't it? Those enemies couldn't be that hard, could they? The voice of Kyemen cut through her thoughts and she looked around to see him talk. What he did next was quite impressive, for she couldn't do it herself. He had created some sort of figure out of sand. He continued to speak and Arwen gave a small nod, her blue eyes turning hard. Sure, she acted like a kid, but she did not fight like a kid. She remained quiet as the man spoke and asked a question. This time she wasn't going all hyper. The figure looked impressive and what he had said really got her thinking. Her blue eyes then flickered towards the woman who began to talk. Alright, so the other woman was a little smarter than she expected. Rolling her blue eyes, she glanced back at the figure. Lifting her chin up a little bit, she felt that exhilaration of having a chance to kill come back to her. A cruel like smile slowly appeared on her face. This sort of smile would usually scare people, but to others it looked as if she was thinking something bloody. Her blue eyes turned cold and hard as she looked back up at the man. Unsheathing her dual blades, she gave a very cheerful sadistic smile towards Kyemen before saying brightly, Let's go and kill them all~! If Arwen could, she would skip towards the hole happily and almost in a creepy way. She gripped her swords tightly while twirling on of them in her hands. A smirk came upon her pretty face while her sharp blue eyes looked at him with a cruel look. She looked behind her towards Crim before smiling in an all too sweet way that it looked insane. Have fun shooting down those bastards. I know I'm gonna have fun slicing them up.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] words lalaa. Who knows? tagged OP1 ppl notes OUTFIT. && this is gonna be fun for arwen. template PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION[/center]
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Post by //|:Crim~Harrowmont:|\\ on Jul 6, 2010 0:51:31 GMT -5
CRIM HARROWMONT Arrows in the Sky Crim stood as Kyemen said his words. there were ohters now, and they must each say their piece. he wandered slightly to the side, just inside the forests edge, there he stood while he continued to watch others arrive and then things started happening. Kyemen spoke with another, delving into the ancient language he quickly cast a spell so that he would hear all words. Since he was bored and it appeared for good measure he nocked and loosed and Arrow he aimed it far into the sky, however in the act of letting the arrow go, he delved into the Ancient language and guided the arrow with his mind. he increased its speed and force, he then turned it around and had it plummet it to earth at terminal velocity. quick as an elf, turning a hundred and eighty degrees, holding the bow he knelt and loosed another arrow as it neared the crowd. this arrow he did not guide. he knew it would strike true. the arrow he just fired hit the broad head armor piercing head on the first arrow and sent them both nock first into the ground. landing with points up. he cast as spell and tugged them both to his hand. he then knelt and awaited orders. it was not long before Kyemen asked him kindly to stop whatever came out of the hole the rest of the crew would be entering. he scanned the entrance. he then pulled out the arrows he had on him and stuck them in the ground. "i can shoot to wound from here sir!" his eyes grew dark as he delved into pure calculations, nothing escaped his notice. not the sadistically sweet and kind smile Arwen gave him as she left. he returned it in kind then suddenly on a whim threw his consciousness to hers. seeking entrance. a message was his only thought "might be better to be linked with someone i trust in there, a reliable feed of whats going on..." however in actuality he was just getting done winking at her.
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Tii
Junior Member
Posts: 61
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Post by Tii on Jul 15, 2010 8:30:40 GMT -5
"But I think that you and I both are starting to understand just how funny the world can be." The corner of his mouth tugged up into a half smile. It was just as caluculated and planned as everything else he did. That was typical Za’lyyr though, to know exactly what he was doing before he ever did it. ”Too funny for comfort sometimes.” For some reason he felt a complete lack of hostility towards Kyemen. It wasn’t as if he ran around wanting to hit everyone and kill everyone... he did what was required. But there were no bad feelings towards his fellow rider. That night had been strange and made little to no sense in the end, but it was unlikely that he’d ever forget it. ”This is Jekarta.” He nodded back to the dragon that stood not far off. His gaze stayed on her for a few moments before turning back.
You’re even introducing me? How sweet.[/i] The smile pulled at his lips again, and this time it was far more real. I could have left you. There was an inordinant amount of disdain in their mental link. I would like to see your attempts at stopping me. [/i] I’d really prefer to stay alive. So would I.[/i]
He went about surveying the group of people. He wasn’t all that recognizeable of a person, spending most of his time outside the capital or within the deeper confines of the castle. He never introduced himself unless necessary and hardly provided a name. Arwen looked vaguely familiar. Not enough for him to strike up some sort of conversation. Jekarta found amusement though.
She’s looking at you.[/i] You’re imagining things. No I’m not. Look.[/i] I’m not going to look. Why not?[/i] That would be enabling your psychosis. Again, the disdain.
Plans were starting to be made and he was asked to give cover. It wasn’t that difficult of a task, but he didn’t mind doing it. He’d been using a bow for far over a hundred years, longer than any human lived. ”How will we be communicating? We can keep a mental connection while keeping the secrets of our alliances, as long as you aren’t opposed to the idea.” The words were given to Kyemen. He was curious as to what the reaction would be. It was easy to put partitions in the mind and divide communications with thought. If Za’lyyr and Kyemen were allowing eachother to speak in eachother’s minds, they could easily relay to the dragons as well.
Jekarta was quickly in the air. She didn’t like the ground all that much, it didn’t feel like home. Siertha was far larger than she was, there was no mistaking her in the air. Jekarta kept a decent distance. There was plenty of space and no point in crowding. She was sure the other dragon saw her, but still spoke out. It was simple and pointless, but it was the most neutral thing she could say. All they needed was two dragons fighting in the air because Jekarta couldn’t keep her mouth shut. ”Hello.”[/b]
Za’lyyr glanced around him until he found some slightly elevated ground. That would be his perch. The bow on his back was easily removed and held at his side. All his movements seemed to be linked together, perfectly fluid from one to the next. It was just his way of being. He was well aquainted with how his body moved and was evident in all the little things he did. He addressed the group momentarily. ”I would hope that no one finds need for heroics today. If you need help, you must call for it. Today, we are one in purpose.” Za’lyyr wasn’t the chatty type. That was the longest phrase anyone had heard out of him that day. A moment later he had turned and taken for the small hill, watching the group and the entrance intently. [/size]
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Jul 23, 2010 16:09:37 GMT -5
After getting a proper look over the accompanying members on this little excursion, only the slightest of sneers curled my lip. Considering that Straethir had handpicked the team, it wasn’t surprising, I supposed, that they weren’t entirely incompetent. That Kolbjorn probably had little fighting prowess to speak of except for stabbing some poor slob in the back, but the way he gazed at everyone surrounding him, probing with his eyes for any weaknesses, told me he was the sort to battle with his mind. I tried to remember what Straethir had said about him when he’d briefly introduced us all back at the meeting. Something about being the crime boss of Dras-Leona. That meant he had his fingers in every going-on in that city. Suddenly feeling wary of my company, I involuntarily stepped away slightly, causing him to look at me and give a charming smile.
Unwilling to humour him, I returned it with a scoff and decided to replicate his mannerisms, peering over my fellows. The two elves with the bows, Za’lyyr and Harrowmont, were both very quiet and very distant, with grim faces. This gave me an odd urge to prod at the both of them and see what it took to make them snap, but I would attempt to restrain myself since Jekarta was around. Though I wasn’t particularly impressed with bonded dragons, I wasn’t foolish enough to stick my head in the lion’s maw. Either way, all three of them would be outside and away from me, so I glanced over the team members who would be accompanying me. The childlike half-elf Redfern was making a complete fool of herself by skipping mindlessly towards the hole, a prime target for any hidden archers in the ruins. She’d been the first one to volunteer for this operation, but I wasn’t sure why Straethir had allowed a child with a death wish to accompany us. Maybe he just wanted to put her out of her misery.
The others were a bit more promising. Straethir didn’t fit the bill when it came to elves- he was quiet, thoughtful, and humble, which in itself spoke volumes about his power. He’d revealed a great amount of distaste for my outfit, too. He also seemed the type to easily become embarrassed, so I would probably turn my attentions on him when I got bored. And then, finally, the one pure-blooded human on this operation, Vorandeer, who also appeared to be the only person who was laid-back about the entire thing without pushing it to the point of suicidal mania, didn’t have any immediate flaws that I was able to pick out- Besides his race, of course. I wasn’t sure how a human and a half-elf were going to be able to keep up with the rest of us leggy Fair Folk.
“Any questions?” asked Straethir, reminding me that I hadn’t been paying attention to his words at all. I glanced around at the pack. The first response was more of Redfern’s idiotic squealing, followed by very obvious flirting between her and Harrowmont. Oh, yes, Straethir knew how to pick ‘em. “I would hope that no one finds need for heroics today. If you need help, you must call for it. Today, we are one in purpose.” Za’lyyr was quite the preacher, it seemed. Without another word, he turned and abandoned the little group, heading for his position on the hill. Straethir glanced at me and Kolbjorn, inhaling deeply like he was preparing himself for an incoming blow. “You were wonderfully clear, Sir Straethir,” I said smoothly, to take the edge off his guard. “I’ll keep to my duty, not…” I gazed at Redfern and Harrowmont, “… engage in manure that should be reserved for farming.” “Well,” said Kolbjorn in an oddly relaxed voice, stepping closer to Straethir. Ever since Sierthra had flown off, he’d seemed to collect himself, the little coward. “Persistent little bastard, ain’tcha? Listen, Straethir…” He leaned in very close, and dropped his voice to a whisper so that I had to strain to hear even with my advanced hearing. “I gave you that one for free, but information comes at a price. Next time you need to know something about these junkie assholes, you’ll need to work for it. Understand?” He suddenly leaned back and said in a much louder voice, “And once this bull is over and done with, you and me, we’re gonna be fast friends.” He grabbed Straethir by the shoulders and gave him a cheerful, if rather violent, shake. “Fast friends, ya hear?”
Though the expression on Straethir’s face was nothing if not amusing, I wanted to start the job as quickly as possible. I moved past the two of them, heading towards the little gopher hole that served as an entrance. Ignoring Redfern’s bouncing, I came to a halt near the opening, peering into its depths. It was entirely black, so I summoned the reserves of dark energy within my mind, feeling the pulse of my evil magics.
“Taka eka du ven abr du dróttning abr du nótt.”
I felt an odd tingling in my eyes as I manipulated them, turning the pupil into a vertical slit like a cat’s while the iris turned pale violet. I shut my lids as the change occurred, making sure I had done the spell correctly before opening them again. My vision had turned pale violet like my irises, which were hidden as my pupils dilated until my eyes were almost entirely black. I’d seen myself with these eyes in the mirror on many occasions. With the removed colour, I could see the tunnel went downward at a steep diagonal angle before levelling out, and probably becoming wider when it did. I couldn’t see any people or any traps to speak of, but even a cat’s eye was easily deceived. However, with some mental probing, the entrance appeared to be clear. Well, it was the staff entrance. We were hardly using the front door. Deciding to risk life and limb, I cautiously stepped inside, and began to awkwardly walk down the steep slope.
Words;; 1015 Muse;; Getting better, it seems. =O Thoughts;; Err it could be better. XP But I posted, woo.
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Kite
Junior Member
Now past the 1 year mark
Posts: 127
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Post by Kite on Jul 30, 2010 22:58:07 GMT -5
*With the end of the briefing from Kyemen and the elven man, Daran and Salmissra decide to slip into action. Salmissra rumbles softly, and moves away from the group a bit, then sweeps her wings and lifts off, moving to fly with Sierthra until the older dragon gave her a different order. The catching of escapists is not a difficult thing, but it needed some vigilance.
Daran, on the other hand, was moving towards the hole. He heard Arwen and Crim flirting and speaking, and saw the elven woman looking at them. He could see that the woman was a little disproving of Arwen. Maybe it was because she was a half and half, or maybe because of her manner. Daran was a little worried that she was fairly loose about moving around and being happy and skippy. Then again, he was sure she would do her job, when needed. She wouldnt be here if she was a liability. She wouldn't be ordered in if she was a problem.
He then hears some of the woman's speech as she speaks the ancient language. He understands it a little, and understands that it must be a change to the eyes. As they were about to move into a dark, deep pit of death, it makes sense that she would be making it so she can see in the dark. This was a mixed idea for Daran, especially when he caught a glimpse of her eyes as he moved in behind her. Sure, she could see well in the dark, but then again, Daran doubts that those below would live without light of some sort. So she can guide them through the unlit areas, but itd be costly to change her eyes to and from that mode. Even if the cost is small to her, it would be a cost that could in fact put her down later, elf of not. It wasn't likely, but it was possible.
So, as her change was still changing, he moved his sword off his back, and puts it on his hip as it normally was meant to be, loosing it a bit so he could easily get at it. It would take a bit of work in tunnels, but he knew how to use it in them. He was, of course, an expert of his race through training and experience. As the woman leads the way down into the depths of the earth, he steps through behind her, trusting the slope down to be a common angle as his eyes adjust into the dark, not looking back, trusting the people with them to know their job and cover their areas.*
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Post by Angmor on Aug 14, 2010 8:41:13 GMT -5
As he released the spell that held the sand model in suspension, Kyemen surveyed just what had been accomplished here. Crim, as he’d more or less expected, was making overconfident noises about his skill and accuracy. What was not expected was his flirtations toward young Redfern, throwing almost all professionalism out the window. Of course, Redfern never really had any to begin with, as she practically jumped up and down in excitement while spouting bloodthirsty comments that demonstrated that she had missed the point of the operation completely. This of course did little for Laioni’s disposition, whose face and body language projected her contempt and disapproval like a toxic cloud around her. Kieran strangely, had mostly lost the look of a man intensely unhappy with the situation, with the casually calculating eyes that signaled he was probably looking for the best time to get out of the way before the other shoe dropped. Za’lyyr and Myth at least, looked like they had paid him at least a little heed, their manners mostly unchanged since they had arrived. Though he found this rather worrying because he had no idea what was going on behind those eyes. And of course, the dragons were… well, dragons. They were far better at concealing their emotions, even to his trained eyes, but he got the idea that they were both excited and nervous to meet Sierthra. No surprise there. As he looked out at the chaotic, mixed-bag of personalities and abilities that formed what was supposed to be his tight-knit and cohesive team, he gave a small sigh. All in all, he decided, it was going about as well as expected.
After a moment, Za’lyyr spoke up. ”How will we be communicating?” He asked. “We can keep a mental connection while keeping the secrets of our alliances, as long as you aren’t opposed to the idea.” Kyemen frowned. Although rather obvious in hindsight, it was a good question. A question that he hadn’t actually considered before. At first glance, he found himself rather reluctant. After all, despite the obvious advantages for this operation, mental communication was a very private and personal affair for both parties. Now, he trusted Za’lyyr as an upright and honorable individual, but he was also a Rider for Galbatorix. While those skilled in the mental arenas could partition their minds in such a way that only the most shallow layers were open to the other, but in the heat of a fight, or in using tricky magic, he didn’t trust himself not to slip up and let Za’lyyr in on the Varden’s secrets. And after watching Za’lyyr practice highly dangerous magic without speaking as if it was routine, he figured the other elf would not be similarly burdened. No, he just couldn’t do it. It was far too dangerous to himself and to the Varden as a whole. And yet, how could he not? He had been the one that had called this group together, and if he was holding something back, how much more would everyone else? No, there was just far too much at stake for suspicion and lies to exist between them. He had to be all in. “I’ll have my mind open as much as I can.” He said finally, meeting Za’lyyr’s searching gaze. “If I close up, it will be because I’m under attack. If that happens though, just knock.” He tapped the side of his thumb against the hilt of the long knife at his waist, rapping out the simple pattern. Tap, taptap. “Just like that. Just hit my barriers with that pattern.” Tap, taptap. Za'lyyr nodded his understanding, turning slightly to address the others. "I would hope no on finds the need for heroics today." He said. "If you need help, you must call for it. Today, we are one in purpose." Apparently finished with the sudden outburst of emotion, he turned headed toward one of the hills, leaving most of the rest blinking in his wake. Kyemen watched him go, suppressing a shake of his head. There was actually someone behind that stone mask of a face after all. Maybe. He sighed. Now to deal with the inevitable comments from the Sarcasm Department... "You were wonderfully clear, Sir Straethir." Said Laioni, sliding smoothly into the silence like a blade between a pair of ribs. "I'll keep to my duty, not..." A glance over his shoulder that practically glowed with contempt. "...engage in manure that should be reserved for farming." It didn't warrant the glance behind him it would take to figure out who she was talking about. That was something of a relief, anyway. Perhaps he had misjudged her, even if her fashion choices were a bit eccentric... "Well," Said Kieran as he sidled closer. Immediately Kyemen tensed. It had only been one word, but the way he had said it was very calm and relaxed. In the current situation, that indicated that something was very wrong. He was suddenly very aware of the position of each and every throwing knife on his body… “Persistent little bastard, ain’tcha? Listen, Straethir…” The other elf said, leaning in uncomfortably close. All the same, Kyemen didn’t step away, wanting to know where this was going. It would be useful knowledge as to how Kieran reacted when Sierthra wasn’t around to give an object lesson. “I gave you that one for free, but information comes at a price.” The other elf went on, voice low. Kyemen would almost say menacing… “Next time you need to know something about these junkie assholes, you’ll need to work for it. Understand?” Kyemen’s first instinct was to laugh politely. So, that was the game. Kieran honestly still thought that he could exert some control over the situation, as if he still had a choice. Still trying to weasel his way out from under the debt. Still, Kyemen held himself back. He couldn’t really blame him, after all. He was probably just reverting to what he knew best. All at once, Kieran drew back, the menace replaced by an exaggerated friendliness. “And once this bull is over and done with, you and me, we’re gonna be fast friends.” He even went so far as to put an arm on his shoulder, giving him a shake that made his various weapons rattle violently. “Fast friends, ya hear?” So, that was it then. Angling to exit this whole situation with a bit of profit under his belt. Obviously, he didn’t get this whole debt concept. Time for a lesson, then. “Look, Kieran,” He said, locking a hand firmly but not quite harshly around Kieran’s wrist and lifting the elf’s arm off his shoulder with exaggerated care. “I know you’re not happy with this situation. Point of fact, neither am I. But I need you, and you owe me one, it’s as simple as that. Maybe even more than one. We’ll see just how useful you are in there. But I need this done, and frankly, you will do it whether you like it or not.” He paused to seek out Kieran’s eyes. “Ya hear?”
For a moment, Kieran’s carefully fabricated smile seemed to freeze in place, then as the slow revelation dawned, degenerate into an angry glare. But, in a contest between Dragon Rider and crime boss, it was an impotent anger, and both of them knew it. “Yeah.” Kieran said finally, his lopsided accent a bit heavier than usual. “Yeah, I hear ya.” “Good.” Kyemen said calmly. “I’m glad we understand one another. Now, we’d better get over to that building before Arwen trips on her sword and wakes the place up. You first.”
. . .
For Sierthra, the whole process of the planning session was rather superfluous. After all, Kyemen had already discussed at length his proposed arrangement for this whole operation, and every aspect of it had at least her grudging approval. And, having studied Kyemen's thoughts on the files that he had been poring over, she figured she knew exactly what their reactions would be. So, while keeping most of her attention on the so far unmoving ruin, she occupied herself studying the only real object of interest: The dragons.
Now, she had met imperial dragons before. She'd even had some civil conversations with them, apart from trying to rip them to shreds. But these two were young, far younger that she had yet seen. Admittedly, she had a long-standing grudge with most of the imperial dragons, this hatred mostly arose because they had chosen it. Perhaps these two were young enough yet that they were not yet beyond making their choice. Maybe they still had hope. As she finished thinking this, one of the group of shadowed figures in the group below broke away from the rest. And then, abruptly, the party broke up, and the glittering form of the dragons took to the air one after another. Well, [/Color] She thought to herself, Looks like it's time to find out...[/Color] Even though she knew that she should be keeping an eye on Kyemen as he darted across the open space to the ruin, she found herself unable to turn her eyes away from the dragons slowly rising on the thermals towards her, studying how they did things. After all, if someone attacked her Rider right now, there would be very little she could do about it. So it would be far more productive to gage the abilities of her young charges and find out just what they could do. And to find any weaknesses she could exploit when the day came when they were no longer friends. They could fly rather well for their ages, she thought, watching them grow steadily larger. They also had to be fairly strong by now, being able to carry the weight of a Rider all this way. They were however, strictly functional flyers at this point. They could do the actions well enough, but they didn't yet have the true art behind it, the joys of working with the air, rather than in it. But that, she knew, simply came with practice and a good teacher. Would they get one, she wondered? Probably not. After all, she figured that Shruikan had little to do but sit on his tail for the past century, and she had been rather less than impressed with Thorn's flying skills when they last tangled over Feinster. A pity. So much potential, bound to be wasted. Perhaps she could give them a few tips, if they ended up having to stay out here for a few days... Just as that thought was about to brighten her mood, it occurred to her that she was thinking of offering flying advice to her enemies. Everything that she taught them would eventually be used against her. At that moment, she felt sick at heart, weary of this war and everything to do with it. It wasn't right, for dragon to be turned against dragon when there was so few of them left. They should have been trying to rebuild, not fighting one another. It was yet one more reason why the king's broken body needed to be hung on a high crag to be picked clean by the crows. And that was what she was fighting for. That there was no longer be an ache in her soul at the sight of these young dragons. Peace. One day. Peace.[/Color] After what seemed a long time to Sierthra, the younger dragons at last labored their way to her height, forming up a fair distance to either side. She realized immediately that they would soon have difficulty keeping up, and quickly slowed her speed to what she considered to be a crawl, but for them would probably be a brisk pace. This also served the purpose of allowing her to study them a bit more easily. Of the two young dragons, Jekarta was definitely the most noticeable. The only other dragon she had known with anywhere near this coloration was her teacher Glaedr, and even he was of a darker shade. In the fading light, Sierthra almost expected small gouts of flame to go leaping from between the younger dragon's scales. Salmissra on the other claw was far less conspicuous. Her frame was thoroughly average as far as a dragon her age went, and the color of her scales was a far less impressive shade of lustrous brown that reminded Sierthra of tree bark after a rainstorm. All of this served to throw Sierthra somewhat. From this distance, she could guess nothing of her newfound charge's personality, disposition, mood, flying style, fighting willingness, or capability. Salmissra simply... was.Hello.[/Color] Said Jekarta finally, sounding slightly uncertain. Yes, Sierthra could relate to that one. After all, what did one say to someone who was supposed to be your enemy, and yet you needed to work with them? Greetings, young ones.[/Color] She finally settled on. I take it Kyemen's already given you the whole 'take them alive' speech?[/Color] . . . His entire way across the unsettling openness of the field, Kyemen fully expected to be attacked in some way. Now, back against the wall on one side of the gaping hole in the ominously silent and still ruin, he was unsure whether the surprise was a pleasant one. When he had first seen it from the air, he had thought this entrance to be small. Now, he realized it was an illusion created by the scale of the ruin. The thing was easily three times taller that he was and twice again as wide, with this side of the structure towering black against the final glow of the sun. He suppressed a shiver, adjusting his grip on his sword. He almost wished something shot at him. Anything to break the oppressive aura of stillness that pervaded the atmosphere. An aura of waiting. For some reason, the look Taraak had given suddenly flashed into his mind. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.He shook himself mentally, firmly pushing the sense of foreboding to the back of his mind. He had to find out what was going on here, and there was only one way to find out. Gripping his blade a bit tighter, he pivoted around the wall and started through the black mouth of the opening. It wasn't the bravest thing he'd ever done. After all, Laioni and Myth were in ahead of him, and Kieran and Redfern were right behind him. In the middle of the procession, he realized, he was probably the safest of all of them. Funny, that. Still, by the time he slid his way to bottom of the rocky slope and took a single step into the space beyond, it was complete darkness, as if someone had slipped a dark bag over his head. Suddenly robbed of all visual information ahead of him, he got the distinct feeling that he was about to fall on his face. Envisioning all of the disastrously embarrassing things that would happen on the off chance that the feeling wasn't actually his inner ear playing tricks on him, he drove through the barrier in his mind, sending the now familiar rush of magic through him. "Sverd, garjla." As if someone had suddenly sparked a lantern, the blade of his sword shone out with a dim red light, illuminating the room in stark lines like something out of a fevered dream. He wasn't sure where, but he had learned at one time that red light did not wreck night vision, so if he needed to extinguish the light suddenly, he would not be totally blind. As he raised his blade high, he found himself in a cavernous, vaulted chamber of stone, the ceiling of which rose several yards above his head. Glancing to his left, he found that he was standing next to a thick stone supporting pillar, probably one of at least four that stretched beyond the light. At first glance, the pillar appeared to shimmer. Frowning, he took a step closer, bringing the light to bear. Looking closely, he found the shimmer to be an illusion created by shadows cast inside deeply carved patterns, swirls of lines and symbols within the stone whose meaning completely escaped him. The symbols fascinatingly beautiful, somehow, as if he wasn't sure what part to look at first... With an effort, he pulled his eyes away. There would be time for that later. Bringing the light back around, he turned his attention to the dirt floor at his feet. Now, he was no tracker, but the signs below him were not hard to read. From the veritable carpet of criss-crossing tracks from various sizes of feet, ranging over the entire floor of the cavern as far as the light could reach, it was not difficult to figure out that the place had been inhabited much more recently than when this place was built. One set of tracks were especially interesting. There seemed to be a particularly heavy concentration of tracks leading two and from a certain spot on the eastern wall... Sure enough, as he took a few steps along this trodden path, his blood-light revealed a large archway, and beyond this the first few stops of a winding stone staircase. He smiled in triumph. So, you can get to the rest of the ruin from down here. And someone has obviously been doing so quite a bit. Not a wild goose chase after all...[/Color] "Myth, Redfern," He said, turning around to illuminate the faces of his fellows. "Secure the foot of those stairs, make sure there's no one over there waiting to ruin our day. Laioni and I will search down here for any surprises. Kieran..." He paused. His original thought was to keep the gangster with him, but since he was otherwise occupied anyway, and combat wasn't exactly Kieran's strongpoint... "...Stay here. Look for any clues as to what these guys were doing here. Shout if you find something." [/size][/blockquote]
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