Pickaxes clattered against stone as the Dwarven mining party finally breached into the chamber their mage had pinpointed as an area rich with precious metals. The dwarves had been digging toward this chamber for weeks, carefully avoiding the winding tunnels of the Kobold Labyrinth. Their eyes went wide as they took in the massive chamber and the pile of gold before them. the chamber wasn't as accessible as they had hoped as they could see where the entrance to the Labyrinth itself lay only yards away from the egress of their own tunnel and the boiling magma that lay only a few yards to the right. The leader of the expedition smirked, motioning to the mage to check the heat of the lava to see if a new forge could be built here. The mage nodded to acknowledge his order; then, he sent a thick tendril of probing magic into the sea of magma, inadvertently disrupting a eons-old matrix of enchantments and awakening the slumbering beast.
Many miles below the surface of the liquid stone, a great red eye snapped open even as its owner roused himself from slumber and began the swim up to check on his hoard. The dwarfs continued their work trying to gain a rough approximation of exactly how much wealth they had found so they could begin transporting it back to the surface, when, with a tremendous roar, Klovengaar'Zoldivur'Thurgruthlaat burst up through the magma before casting his gaze upon the dwarves who sullied his hoard. "So, this is what I find when I awaken from my nap, a group of dwarves muddying my hoard with their filthy hands. And here I thought I had taught enough of a lesson when I destroyed those clans that refused to pay my tribute." he stated, before continuing with a sadistic glee reflected in his eyes, "Very well, it seems that some... reeducation, is in order." Then the massive dragon gestured with a single claw and each of the mining party had a different part of their bodies ignite, except one, who was restrained even as his comrades began to scream in agony, the great dragon focusing his attention onto this lone dwarf even as the screams of the others began to peter out, "You will go and tell your brethren what happens to those who presume to steal from the Pyroclasm." The great beast swept his claw once more and the dwarf was forcefully shunted back up the tunnel to the surface while it collapsed behind him.
edited 10th Sep '14 6:58:56 PM by Gladonost
/人◕ ‿‿ ◕人\ Will you make a contract with me?The "War Room", as Nor-Rokkus affectionately referred to it, was surprisingly bare of artifacts given how much time the dragon liked to spend in the room. More so since it was not one of the three rooms in the castle where he was able to take on his true form.
Not that Nor-Rokkus could really blame the castle or its architects for that fact. It's not like they could have ever known that the place would one day be home to a dragon. And for all their skills and handiwork, one could not ignore that humans still remained both squishy and small.
But with what space he had, Nor-Rokkus was quite pleased with what he had managed to turn the "War Room" into. Taking up the center of the room was a large table on which laid a map, one that gave a basic overview of the entire continent, from sea to sea, from one corner of the Adilasan Empire to the next, across the entirety of the wilderness, and everything in between. Intricate details were lacking, of course, as well as a completely accurate scale, but it was still an impressive piece of work. Nor-Rokkus especially liked the way he was able to take adorable little pieces and move them about on the map to represent everything from where other dragons were reported to be located to major movements of individuals.
The other major display in the room was one of Nor-Rokkus' own design and construction. It was a piece he was quite proud of to boot. Hanging up on the wall, present for anyone around to see, was a map depicting most of the world. At least, the parts of the world that Nor-Rokkus had visited in his lifetime. And to his knowledge, no one had ever seen as much of the world as he, meaning that he had in his possession one of the most complete and accurate maps of the world that it had ever known. Even if it did have a lot of errors in accuracy. But they were errors he was able to accept.
It still looked really, really cool.
There were a few other displays in the room - a scale model of the castle and city as it had been at the height of its power, complete with mountains around it and a touch of the surrounding territory being one. But the one he was focused on right now as a smaller map on a smaller table, one which showed just the local region, mostly what had used to comprise the kingdom that Castle Ajanya had once been the crown jewel of.
"So...here?" Nor-Rokkus asked, pointing at the map.
"Yes, there." Came the response from Mayor Johyo Brooke. As humans went, Mayor Brooke was about as handy to have around as a Dragon could hope for. He was practically Nor-Rokkus' right claw man, in charge of everything from seeing to the minor, more trivial details of rulership that the dragon couldn't see fit to waste his time on to leading what few men amounted to the towns local law enforcement/soldiers. Nor-Rokkus even trusted the man enough to rule in his steed whenever the dragon was able to actually find an opportunity to get away from the town and the castle.
Now, Mayor Brooke was informing Nor-Rokkus of details surrounding a curious situation that had happened to one of the few villages that still remained out in the wastelands on the other side of the boarder mountains protecting the former city from the rest of the world. Rumors had popped up over a week ago about something going on, but it was just now that he'd heard a full report of what had been left behind.
It was a curious situation, especially since it actually drove away the pesky raiders that were such a nascence.
"Alright then, hold down the fort then for me." Nor-Rokkus said as he left the war room. "Of course, my liege." Mayor Brooke replied. As always, there was a lack of enthusiasm behind the mans voice. As much as Nor-Rokkus trusted him, he also knew full well that the man was not exactly the most thrilled person in the world about working for a Dragon, even one as decent to work for as Nor-Rokkus.
But then, Mayor Brooke had yet to give Nor-Rokkus a reason to worry about him, so he let the attitude slide. Brooke's results spoke for themselves, and they spoke very highly of the man.
Walking swiftly out of the castle, Nor-Rokkus made for an exit that would allow him the freedom to drop his weaker, humanoid form. Once he did, he quickly took to the air and made with all haste for the indicated village. And with his speed, he'd be there in practically no time at all.
They sky.
One of the gifts that is this world... to fly high above the clouds, with cold wind under your wings, the warmth of the sun shining on your scales... of simply feeling the speed of your flight. To dive into the blue of the skies.
It was one of the greater pleasures of life... one of which Adelinde could hardly do without. While a lot of her kind were content to rest among their hoards, to slumber for decades, she herself could hardly spend months without being drawn into the skies.
For a moment, the silvery dragon wished to move faster... to increase the forces around her agile form, to let distance become a blur as she pushed her mighty wings to their very limit. However that would mean leaving behind the load she carries on her hind legs... And in doing so invalidating most of her journey to the Lochs.
And speaking of it... Her keen eyes peered through the clouds... at the rivers coalescing into a great lake... into the resting place of the mighty Ancient One she came to visit. Well... there was one way to move faster. With a grin in her draconic features, she dived from over the clouds... a nosedive to gain more and more speed. Then, once she had aim of the very center of the lake... of the location under the which she knew dwelt the powerful being who made a home of it, she let go of her carry... letting it plummet from the air before it hits the surface of the lake, making a big splash before it sinks down towards the depths.
No better way to call to the home of an Ancient than literally hitting their door with a present. She flew down, low enough that she could touch the surface of the lake with one claw... which she did all the way from the point on which the present hit towards the coast. The vibrations of it, the rustling of the water should give a good indication to the house owner of where she waited for him. Then, she laid down at the shore of the lake, a lazy smile on her face as she awaited for the great Kroach Mor.
He would most surely notice her sinking gift... a sphere more a meter in diameter of beautiful, pink coral, inset with sapphire and pears... hollow inside and containing a few token pieces of gold and silver, coins, necklaces and the like... and on the very center, radiating with magic an invention of her very own. A metal plate imbued with warding magic... suitable for magical shield or blockage of some kind, should he wish to activate it for that purpose.
In times of oncoming calamity, Graga sometimes considered his aptitude for know-how more of a curse, than a gift. The burdening nature of a horde, especially that of a dragons, would be a lesson he'd keep close to his heart for an eternity.
As the whispers of war, death, and the recent activities of his draconic-kin began to pass from mortal tongue to mortal tongue, the mountain-father took special note of the oncoming traffic towards his mountainous shell. Nowadays, it seems like he could hardly make time for a few steps without some noble, librarian, or holyman trying to record their significant feats or histories onto him. Paranoia and the fear for their livelyhoods permeated the writings of otherwise sagacious and rational beings, likewise increasing Graga's sense of danger. Fewer and fewer took the time to keep him any genuine company and talk, only putting down their place in eternity and swiftly exiting. Though he rarely addressed the issue, he noticed even more mortals beginning to regard him with some worry; some tried to mask their hesitance to approach him with cordiality and a smile, but Graga was far to old to fall for it.
A great many of these wise men's fears concerned the impending passing of the Adilasan empire's leader, and the incoming struggles for power that her absence would create. All the more of a reminder, at least to Graga, that the smaller races should be governed by lives that are far less fleeting than that of humanity, or even the elves. But by their descriptions of this queen, Graga could have sworn that she may have visited her at least once in her liftetime, though she may have changed quite a bit in her time spent as a monarch. That made this particular issue much more personal than most, all things considered.
As such, Graga progressed towards the Imperial capital, though his existance as a dragon-turtle ensured that it would be a longer journey than for someone with the benefit of wings (and not being a fortress with legs). For now, he progressed by the old castle A Janya.
To the law and for the good of man. All I need to live by.With a huge burst of wind accompanying his moves, Nor-Rokkus came to a near sudden stop over the ruined village, then slowly flew down to surface level in a general, controlled spiral before setting foot on the ground.
"Yep. Looks wrecked." Nor-Rokkus commented to himself out loud. He began to plod through the village, seeing if there were any clues to what might have happened, but he wouldn't have been surprised if anything that actually was a clue probably would have gone right over his head.
The dragon eventually made his way to the pit that had been left behind, filled with burnt corpses and other assorted objects.
"What a waste. What a waste."
In more ways than one, too. But it would be even more a waste just let the supposed junk that had been left behind go to waste. So Nor-Rokkus began shifting through the pit, lifting the burnt corpses aside with more care that was probably necessary and piling them nearby. As the bodies began to empty out of the pit, leaving more goods behind, he began to shift through those as well, casually tossing anything that was burnt beyond any recognition or use over his shoulder - and effectively outside the village - while setting aside potentially recoverable items in their own pile for him to sort through once he was finished and see if anything was actually worth laying claim to.
After all, he doubted there was anyone alive left to claim the crispy goods, and it would be yet another waste to just let them sit there and do nothing for all eternity.
edited 11th Sep '14 9:06:28 AM by TheSpaceJawa
In the Volcanic Tunnels
Hours would pass before Klovengar would be disturbed again, long enough for the bodies of the first band of dwarves to cool, or at least cool as much as they could while sitting in a volcanic vent. It wasn't the sound of pick-axes or hammers this time, but rather march of heavily booted feet through the tunnels.
An interesting aromatic mix of fear and determination wafted towards the great dragon, as another dwavren figure, a stockily-built man, with a tremendous beard and encased in heavy plate, emerged.
In the shadows behind the man, could be seen more dwarves evidently waiting to see what would transpire. The lead dwarf soon raised his hand, showing no weapon before calling out "Hail Great Lord of the Deeps. This Champion of the Freed Clan would have audience with the Great Pyroclasm!"
In the Destroyed Village
Nor-Rokkus would find little of lasting value within that stinking pit. What few people remained, investigating the area, pulled back at the arrival of the dragon, giving him and the pit a wide-berth now.
Apart from the occasional small metal tool, and the like, very little seemed to have survived the blaze. More oddly though was how inconsistent Nor-Rokkus' finds would turn out to be. Lumber, tools, cloths, books and more were all found within the hole in the earth, or rather their remains were all found there. And in tremendous amounts, as the pit easily stretched fifty feet across. Even things that the wild-folk could make good use of, like weapons and food could be found, abandoned to this strange offering.
Even the metals cast into the pit seemed to have been ruined by the fires, having mixed together with the other objects in the pit. Even re-smelting these bits and pieces wouldn't be particularly worthwhile.
edited 11th Sep '14 9:30:51 AM by dungeonguy88
Burned Village
When Nor-Rokkus realized he was not alone, he immediately stopped shifting through the pile. At this point there was probably nothing worth salvaging even if he hadn't discovered that word of its total demise had been exaggerated.
"Hello?" He said, turning away from the pit and looking to see who was present. "I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you're afraid of. I had heard there were no survivors."
edited 11th Sep '14 9:43:25 AM by TheSpaceJawa
In the Volcanic Tunnels
While the dwarf maintained a stony-countenance, it would be hard to believe that the sweat rolling off his brow was due to the heat alone.
"I come asking first if you find the first of our, hopefully, many tributes to your liking, Oh Disastrous One?" The dwarf asked, gesturing to the remains of the first squad of dwarves as he did so.
In the Destroyed Village
After some quick mutterings, a woman wearing the armor of the Empire and holding a metal helm under one arm, approached the dragon "We are not survivors, I'm afraid, Wyrm. By our examination and count of the bodies, there were no survivors at this atrocity."
Gesturing to the other men and women milling about the wreckage of the village "These are the volunteers that came with me to...take an accounting of what happened here. To try to understand what was lost, and why, and to put this place to a proper rest. May I inquire as to why you have come calling, Wyrm...and by what name I should call you."
The woman seemed hardened and professional, a stark contrast to the others going about the village. Many of these volunteers seemed armed with little more than re-purposed farming equipment and the occasional dull sword, and more than a few seemed overcome with emotion, at the sights found here. Presumably, some of these folks had relatives and friends residing in the village, when it was destroyed.
The armored-woman seemed rather severe and stressed, but she seemed to be taking the sight of a dragon in stride. It was safe to assume she had been stationed in the region for sometime, and thus was used to the more fantastical and monstrous of creatures, than those in the more settled regions had little knowledge of.
edited 11th Sep '14 9:53:38 AM by dungeonguy88
"Dragon." Nor-Rokkus corrected the woman. "The term is dragon. I won't be having none of this 'Wyrm' business."
He looked over the assembled militia for a moment. Yeah, they were a pretty sorry looking bunch, alright. Curious that this supposed military woman had nothing better than them to work with.
"And my name is Nor-Rokkus." He said as he returned his attention to the woman. "How about you? What you go by and how did you get stuck with nothing more than this band of second-rate soldiers?"
Volcanic Tunnels
"I suppose it is a sufficient waking-up present, dwarf. However your subsequent tributes should consist of gold, silver, soldiers, and magical items. I have no need for dead slaves, living ones are so much more... useful." the monstrous wyrm noted, idly tapping one claw.
/人◕ ‿‿ ◕人\ Will you make a contract with me?In the Destroyed Village
"Uh-ah...my apologies. I'm not well-read on your kind's ways, I'm afraid." The woman replied after, being corrected on the correct terminology. She seemed rather sincere about it, shifting the helmet under her arm anxiously.
She seemed ready to answer with her own name, before coming up short at Nor-Rokkus' assessment of her volunteers. She seemed rather aggravated by the dragon's words, but wasn't about to voice them "Nor-Rokkus that would mark you as the dragon that takes up residence in Ajayna...I am Lizette. Guard-Captain of Fort Vinehold. And when news reached us of this brutal attack on our citizens, I was granted leave to investigate, despite...'pressing' issues elsewhere. With so few men and woman available, I was fortunate to find these few brave souls willing to assist me in doing what could be done here."
Glancing at the pile of salvageable goods the dragon had retrieved pointedly, and somewhat disapprovingly "Might I ask, what brings one of your stature to this place?"
In the Volcanic Tunnels
Klovengar's acceptance seemed to have some impact upon the dwarf; while still fearful, there was an undercurrent of ambition in how the dwarf now carried himself.
"We are humbled by your understanding, Great One. It is truly an unfortunate offering we brought you this day, I agree. These days it is the only thing of value we of the Freed Clans offer one as great as you. We are a destitute and pitiable lot." The dwarf continued, seeming to condemn his own kind, for their weakness.
"Our great holds are abandoned, and our rich mines are now held by the arrogant surfacers, preventing us from bringing more worthwhile tribute." The dwarf continued on.
edited 11th Sep '14 10:21:54 AM by dungeonguy88
Seeing another dragon pass by, especially in such urgency, was an odd sight. Or at least, it'd used to be.
"I'm not sure if I recognized that one," Graga muttered to himself, having just barely passed the castle's vicinity, "Perhaps when he's as old as me, I'll catch up to him." The dragon turtle let out a deep, slow chuckle that rattled the ground and swayed the trees in a swift gale. If the young ones' panic turned out to be justified, he supposed he'd run into quite a few more beings rushing by him, even in the more obscure areas of the world.
"The world should be in such a way that no one should be forced to run." he continued, more resolute now than earlier. "I will see what I can do." The old one refocused his gaze in the direction of the capital, and continued his journey.
To the law and for the good of man. All I need to live by.Deep in the heart of the Savage Lands, below the surface of Mount Blutstein, the legendary forces of good and evil were once again battling for the fate of the world.
"Foolish Borton! I, Vilamber the Immortal, am now a god! The world shall kneel before me, and those who stand against me will be cut down like wheat before the scythe."
"Not today, Vilamber. As long as one man stands against you, as long as one man refuses to kneel, as long as one man remains to remember the old gods, then you will have never truly won! And... so long as one man has a giant sword, then you shall never know rest. Prepare to die, evil one!"
"Then have at it!"
"Grrr, fwoosh fwoosh, argh, oh no my arm, shink shink shink, clang, wham, drip drip drip. What, how can this be, I am a god! No forged weapon may pierce my flesh!? That is why I did not forge a weapon, I forged a plowshare larger than any the world had ever seen, and now I- dammit Dothalr, what is it?"
The twenty-foot halfling nodded eagerly and waved its battleaxe around. Not that the mindless drone actually comprehended anything, it simply tended to do that of its own accord. But its presence meant that someone had rung the bell, which meant there was one of his barbarians waiting for an audience outside.
With a sigh, Sangorius set down the pair of statues he had been busying himself with and flew out of his lair, down to the base of the mountain, and towered over the small group of hobbits that were gathered there. After enough growls and black speech they finally managed to convey the results of their journey to collect blood tributes from a nearby village, and the slight complication of a smoldering pile of ashes now being where the village once stood.
"This displeases me," he growled down. That village had been a small, but steady, source of bodies for the Blood Forge. With it gone he'd have to find an alternative channel for acquiring what it had once provided. He thought for a few moments about how to handle this, the balance of power in the area was essential to maximizing the efficiency of his endeavors, and he couldn't decide if one of the existing neighboring kingdoms getting a bit aggressive and wiping out the village, or an unknown raiding party passing through, was a worse proposition. It was then that he noticed the hobbits still trembling below him. "Oh, ah, yes, your failure has been noted, and your blood debt increased. But I am feeling merciful today, I shall spare your pitiful lives. In exchange, you will spend the remainder of your existence serving in the keep of the Western Reaches." The hobbits bowed down stupidly, groveling. Sangorius shook his head, he always hated when they did that instead of just leaving. "Then... INTO A RAGE, I FLY!" he roared, flapping his wings and causing the hobbits to fall over from the wind pressure.
Far Above the Destroyed Village
Soon enough Sangorius was over the village in question. Or rather, the pit.
"Who dares take the blood that I have rightfully taken dominion of?" he roared down, his voice thundering loud enough that it could be heard for a few miles.
edited 11th Sep '14 10:28:05 AM by nman
"Yeah, Castle Ajanya." Nor-Rokkus said, glancing in its general direction. He hadn't planned to mention the place, but as long as they already knew that about him, there was little need to worry about giving away much about the place. "I rule place, and what few people still live there."
"And that..." He continued, looking towards the more salvageable items he had dug up. "Well, I heard word about how this place got torn apart, it sounded like something to look into. Bad enough there's mangey little hobbits running around, now I have to worry about whatever did this, too. Can't just ignore a problem like this when it happens so close to your doorstep."
"So do you actually know anything about what..." Nor-Rokkus started, but was interrupted by the roar from above.
"And then there's that guy." He grumbled.
edited 11th Sep '14 10:37:09 AM by TheSpaceJawa
Volcanic Tunnels
"So, you say that you can pay no more tributes unto me? Then, answer me this dwarf, why should I let you and your clan live? You have until three turns of the moon to levy sufficient tribute, or I will burn you and your entire clan to ashes." The dragon roared, exulting in his own cruelty, before immediately calming once more, "Now tell me, dwarf, of what the state of affairs is on the surface, I dearly wish to know."
/人◕ ‿‿ ◕人\ Will you make a contract with me?On the shore of Loch Mòr sat a child, idly throwing stones into the water. From the depths of the lake, a cluster of bubbles rose and burst on the surface followed by a yellow glow. With a shifting of waves, the head of a dragon burst from the deep. Two golden eyes blasted like furnaces, plumes of steam billowing into the sky all around them. The head was massive, a dull bronze in color, encrusted with barnacles and the water-scum of millennia. A torrent of water fell from the jaws, staining the sand around it.
Stories of the fearsome lake monster were a part of the upbringing of every child in Mòr, and this one had no reason yet to disbelieve them, looking at the monstrous visage before her without much surprise. The burning yellow eyes surveyed the child for some time, before a fearful voice boomed forth.
"Why do you disturb my waters?"
"What are you?"
"What? How is it that you do not know me? I am Kruach Mòr. I am a dragon, a dragon of most ancient standing. Legendary is my renown, great my wisdom, and terrible my power. From fearless warrior to mighty sage, from valiant knight to proud emperor, all cower at my name.”
These words didn't have quite the desired effect. The child simply stared at him in silence. The sea-dragon shifted uneasily.
"Is there truly any child that has not have heard of me? Did the people of this land not revere me as their guardian? Did they not bow before me?"
"My mam says bad children get fed to the monster in the water."
"...Do they? I was aware of no such arrangement. The idea is not without merit. But where are tributes to honour me? Where are sacrifices to assuage me? Where is all that which is mine?"
For the first time, he noticed the city on the shore, a far cry from the fishing hamlet it had been since he saw it last. In an instant the true impact of his sleep hit him, and he cried out despairingly.
"How much has changed? Here have I lain since ages past, and now my sleep ends to see a world unknown to me. Has my following died out? Has my name been forgotten? Have I turned from memory to myth?"
The great face fell, and the light behind the eyes dimmed. The child watched him solemnly.
"Do you still want to eat me?"
"A charitable offer, but I have no stomach for it. Go away from here, leave me to my misery."
He turned and sank into the water slowly, still shocked by the changes that he had been foolish enough not to foresee.
That was three days prior. Since then Kruach Mòr had only sunk deeper into his depression, having spied upon the city and learned more of the passing of time. He had taken count of the remnants of his hoard – no doubt faithless humans had crept into the treasure cave and picked much of it clean while he slept. He lay next to it now, still uncertain of what was to be done, when the water was disturbed once again, this time by something different, something precious. Swimming out to retrieve it, he took measure of the gift and placed it with the few items of power he still held onto before heading for the surface. He emerged from the water, and saw the visitor on the shore.
Adelinde... He knew her of old, and while there was no love lost between them, in his melancholy he craved the company of dragons – any dragons at all. But trepidation at what the new world held had kept him from venturing far from his lake. He swam near the shore, inclining his head.
"I greet you warmly, for your presence is most welcome in this unhappy time."
edited 11th Sep '14 11:04:13 AM by Vox
In the Destroyed Village
The Guard-Captain nodded at Nor-Rokkus' words "...Too many troubles are sitting on our doorsteps, these days."
The human female standing in front of Nor-Rokkus' seemed to consider the dragon, perhaps weighing how she should approach the dragon, when her attention was drawn to the sky by Sangorius' declaration. Recognizing the blood-soaked dragon for the terror in the province that he was known to inspire, Lizette visibly paled, before anxiously shifting her gaze between Nor-Rokkus and her 'militia' before running towards the volunteers.
"To cover!! Find shelter now!!" Whatever she may have wished to say to Nor-Rokkus would have to wait for a time when she wasn't looking to save lives. Even with the strong claim of the Empire to ownership of the province, the military at it's strongest had elected to give the blood-dragon's lands a wide-berth. Forming strong garrisons around Sangorius' territory before, they had elected to more or less cordon off the area rather than deal with crazed hobbits and vicious dragons. Of course, that was back when the region fielded a sizable standing army to secure the region. Now those same forts lay abandoned, letting the Savage-Landers and their master pass with impunity.
Far and above, Sangorius could see the ruin that had been made of the village, as well as the large pit dug out in the center of the settlement. As he circled above, something about the pit, and the surrounding wreckage, struck him as both odd and worrying.
In the Volcanic Tunnels
The dwarf seemed to force himself not to flee before the mighty showing from Klovengar, and indeed seem to steel himself before continuing on "There is no tribute we can offer you, Great Pyroclasm. All that your demands will gain you is a but a short-errand to destroy us! But there yet remains a way for us to bring forth the true wealth of the dwarven clans once more to your collection. Wealth and rewards and power that is truly worthy of one such as yourself!"
The dwarf began again, clearly hoping to tempt the great dragon with the prospect of such rewards "Such tributes that could scarcely be measured, would be yours, if we could rip them from the hands of the arrogant nation that has stolen them from the both the Clans and yourself!"
edited 11th Sep '14 11:53:36 AM by dungeonguy88
Seeing the Imperials flee for cover, Nor-Rokkus looked up to the sky where Sangorius was flying around.
Sangorius.
Sangorius.
This guy again. As much as Nor-Rokkus could appreciate the idea that this older dragon had made his own takeover of Castle Ajanya far easier, he still had every reason to be ticked off with the way the big bloody oaf managed to find a way to keep wasting the lands around them. Especially with the way he was the guy responsible for ordering the stupid Hobbits around.
Lifting off the ground, Nor-Rokkus flew up to Sangorius' position in a mere instant, his speed fully on display as he went from his previous position to a hover not far from where the older dragon was flying.
"Hey! YOU!" Nor-Rokkus shouted. "What's your deal?! Here I am, having a perfectly fine conversation and then you have to go and make a mess of it!"
Far Above the Destroyed Village
"Fool, your insignificant words are no concern of mine," Sangorius bellowed. "I deal in matters of the blood, and blood has been spilt without my command!"
He expanded his wings to glide down towards the pit, and bellowed. "I ask again, cowering little mortals, who dares steal blood that I alone have the right to collect?"
Volcanic Tunnels
"So, you think that I want weak slaves, hmmm? If your Clan holds not enough strength to reclaim your own lands then as I see it, you would be better off as ash. And I would rather leave this world a charred husk than allow weaklings into my service. You have been given the terms under which you may live, do not dare presume your problems as my own. If you cannot levy the tribute, then you are obviously not strong enough for me to bother with enslaving you, and those who are not slaves are ash. If this nation is truly so powerful then I will enslave them. Now, dwarf, you will tell me of the recent happenings of the surface, or you will leave." Klovengaar stated, oddly calm.
edited 11th Sep '14 12:43:22 PM by Gladonost
/人◕ ‿‿ ◕人\ Will you make a contract with me?"Great Kruach Mor, it is a pleasure to speak with you again after all this time" says Adelinde, bowing her head low, wings outstretched high and to the sides. Besides her body being small and suited for speed, she had also grown a few gills and decorative, tasteful fins around her body... Dressing nicely was always welcome she found.
"I hope my gift was not insulting to your greatness and that it may bring further beauty to your hoard. It's been many, many turns of the seasons since I last saw of you. Still, I find you in sorrow and the world is a little more dim due to it. What could possibly bring such melancholy to one as great as you are, Kruach?"
In the Volcanic Tunnels
"You speak of not indulging weak slaves as kobolds squat on your doorstep?! 'Twas it not the dwarves that forged countless wonders, mined great veins of gold that dwarf even your great size, and forged artifacts the likes of every mortal race was jealous? I offer you a clan of builders and warriors and miners! Ones that with your aid can turn this mere pile of rock and lava into a great fortress! An army, a new empire is what I offer in tribute."
The dwarf certainly seemed to determined, even as his comrades began to pull back further, as he pushed his luck "Upon the world now sits a wretched empire of humans and elves, spanning the continent, reaching deep into our ground. The greatest military in the world, and we threw off their yokes. They have created their cities, while stealing from others. Including your kind, great dragon! In the past they made sport of hunting your kind and now see dragons as naught but stories! They are decadent, and waiting to be replaced by fire and steel! Your fires and our steel! That is a tribute worthy of you!"
His little speech seems to leave him breathless for a moment as he puts forth his case, and if nothing else, this dwarf seemed to have balls of solid iron.
"Great?"
He laughed, a harsh unpleasant sound devoid of any mirth.
"What am I now? A mockery, a fable, a story to frighten children. The world has passed me by and forgotten me – I am a relic. Regaining all that I once had will be a difficult endeavor. Still, I have my plans."
He moved closer to the shore, water dripping from the spikes lining his chin.
"But what of you, Sliver Bind? What is your place in this new world?"
edited 11th Sep '14 2:18:30 PM by Vox

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The glorious Adilasan Empire is entering into it's 500th year, with grand celebrations spanning across the land, marking half-a-millenia as the leading power of the continent. Five hundred years of wealth and growth, of hegemonic conquest, and supplication before the Gods. The same Gods that popular legend says await the day that the Adilasan God-Queen Mamythe parts the mortal coil to take her place among the heavens. Even now, the half-elven founder of the empire, whose prowess in battle, diplomacy, and magic is recognized the world over, has sent out wagons of supplies around the continent to assure the celebrations live up to her accomplishment. Even now, the grand houses rally around the throne, all with the desire to better the empire. Even now, the magnanimity of Queen Mamythe is held up as an example to it's vassals and holdings, having granted the Dwarven clans their much desired independence...
At least, that is how the Adilasan Empire is presenting itself.
In truth, the Empire serves as the gilded home of a court of backstabbing nobility and merchants, all vying for the favor of the increasingly reclusive and mysterious Queen Mamythe. Where once before the borders of the empire were held as sacrosanct against all trespassers, the response these days to even blatant incursions, by man or monster, is utterly anemic. For those with the mind to note, those forces that protected the land have steadily been marched inland towards the capital, called their by their lords. Already, the aristocracy is readying itself for the aging Queen to finally pass, and they are presented with the opportunity to grow their own holdings.
Word of strange cults is arising across the land, along with rumors of mysterious, solitary figures wandering the land's roads.
The empire's many holdings and provinces are growing increasingly agitated, as the capital seemingly abandons them, whilst levying increasingly punitive requests upon them. Many can hear the hammers and picks of the Dwarves echoing up, from the depths of the earth, as the Dwarven clans prepare themselves for a war that anyone can see coming. Even now they dig into the deepest pits, and the broiling depths of the volcanic tunnels in search of materials to fuel their reclamation of their lost holds and their grudge against the empire. Paying no heed to the creatures of the depth that their actions cause to stir...
In particular, there are whisperings of...worrying happenings, about the city of Sjir. The trade deals with the capital of Adilasan Empire have become increasingly aggressive, as outsiders expend exorbitant amounts of gold buying up surpluses of food and weaponry from the center of learning. This, coupled with increasing demands to allow the empire to garrison more forces within the city, to "assist" with defending the surrounding lands, has the overseers of the city nervous.
Not that the lands surrounding Sjir are entirely safe these days, with rumors of bandits and mind-warping dragons in the surrounding forests becoming more prevalent.
Deeper within the Empire's borders, amongst the lake-barrens sitting in the shadows of the Northern mountainous borders of the empire, sits the trading hub of Mòr. An impressive walled-city, that spans the shores and stretches out over the lake itself, Mòr serves as the principle guardian and crossroads of the many smaller communities in the region. With a distinctly human population and equally distinct culture of it's own, Mòr marries the celebrations of the Empire with it's own. Nominal praise is allotted to the Queen Mamythe, while the city preoccupies itself with great feasts and their unflattering effigies of the legendary monster of the lake. It's people sing their songs, in near mockery of the beliefs of their ancestors, frightening children with "silly" stories of the great Loch's creature and the tributes needed to placate him. These days those tributes are rather thin indeed...
Further to the north, amongst the valleys tucked between the great peaks, the communities there are far less touched upon by the the Empire. In truth, these regions are only nominally a part of the empire, and see few demands and even less support from it's parent nation. Before now, this was an equitable arrangement, with little expected of those living amongst the peaceful snowy lands. Now the region has become terribly isolated with scarcely a word passing beyond the boundaries of any one town or village. Paranoia reigns in the north, as strange weather and stranger shadows are seen in the dark of the night.
To the east of these mountain ranges, unsettled land stretches from the mountains to the tempestuous oceans. Once a frontier that held endless potential for wealth and prosperity, the humid jungles of the region are increasingly abandoned as unimportant by it's stewards. Already a dangerous land, these wilds have seen it's crucial garrisons left behind, under the notion that the dangers of this land can be safely left unimpeded. A terrible mistake, as without the culling efforts of the Empire's men-at-arms, the savage races of these lands have exploded in numbers. Even the mercenaries and adventure-minded individuals of the region have left, lured in-land by the prospect of juicy offers from plotting nobility. Despite their great numbers. only small raiding bands have been spotted thus far, picking off easy targets and robbing the lands before retreating into the depths of the jungles and mountainous foothills.
This oddly conservative behavior on the part of the goblinoids, giants, and lizardfolk has been marred only once by an unusual event. In the shadow of Ajayna, a small village was set upon in the night by a horde of such creatures that make their home amongst the jungles. Not a man, woman or child was allowed to escape, and it was far too late for anyone to come to the village's aid. Over the course of the short week it took for someone to investigate the village had been abandoned by the horde. Leaving in it's place a great pit dug into the earth, filled with the corpses of the villagers and a huge collection of stolen goods, all of it set ablaze. Those few brave enough to sift through the remains, having found items and goods stolen from around the region, were unsettled by the sight of teeth marks upon the bones of the dead. Even the rabid hobbits of the Savage Lands are loath to approach the destroyed village, believing it reeks of foul forces.
Calamity is ready to spill across the land, and only the wisest, most astute of individuals amongst mortals and dragons alike can see it coming.
edited 10th Sep '14 6:26:37 PM by dungeonguy88