Ramus Thirdfallen heads toward the shrine, offering in hand-around the mayors house, he finds a large hillock made of strong bricks, covered in fine earthwork and grass. It has the impression of having been here much longer than the city itself. A small entrance beckons within, leading down into a hollowed out center. Ramus notes that the top of the shrine is a skylight, open to the air.
He walks forward dauntlessly, going down a flight of wide steps-feeling the strange presence that had helped him earlier pressing at his mind-almost as if his body is being controlled from afar, while he still converses with it.
Within, he finds the Kingfisher herself.
She is something much like what Ramus has heard a River Dragon looks like, though this is the first time he has done so personally. Thick green scales adorn her back, and her belly is pale, gleaming white. Her snout juts out in a crocodilian fashion. Her tail is almost as long as her body, and from end to forehead there are tall, triangular, sharp edged plates-her tail is a long spear, ending in a bony paddle which reminds you of a four flanged mace. It lashes the water, rattling softly. Her claws are impressively sharp and jet black, though they are tipped around webbed fingers and toes. Around her are a few small piles of silver treasure, which are protectively wrapped in her coils. All in all, she is about larger than the mayors house-yet she seems altogether more lithe and supple, than brutishly strong. Perhaps that is the way you tell a female dragon from a male one?
As you enter, sending ripples through the knee deep water the Kingfisher rests in, one great sapphire eye pops open-then narrows, concentrating on you.
"...I said I did not wish to be disturbed." She says, in a low pitched and rumbling (and quite frankly terrifying) voice. You notice she had no large fangs, but her mouth is wide and loose-a dark purple tongue ticked with adhesive spikes lays coiled within.
----
Rankar leaves, shelving his feelings of misplaced doubt. The Path of Steel beckons, stronger now in his mind then ever. He feels that if there was a test to be taken here, he has done so...
Caellach tags along, having learned a wider stride and an impressive endurance in an attempt to keep up with his horned friend. Together, you march past the sedated vines-through the hidden pass, and onto the next leg of your journery
You sense, in time, Caellach wishes to speak to you about something-a casual silence indicating heavy thoughts. You nod, imperceptibly, and he begins. Such things you have both learned on the trail.
"Hey. At least I got an half hours nap, eh....though, I had a weird dream. Tell me if this means anything to you, Master Rankar. Apologies if it's too literal, but the memory is still pretty fresh....
I was back in the village, right? You know, that night...only like I was a lad again, could barely swing a sword. I saw this man coming at me, a fat sod-a big guy, lots of meat on him. He's slow but strong. So-I hit him with my blade, right in the belly, but he doesn't go down-bleeding like a stuck pig, but it hit the armor he was wearing under his coat.
He swings his axe down on me, still, laughing like a loon. This is where it gets weird.
One second, I'm dead. He bashes my brains out, and I taste copper. Hurts bad, goes dark. I think I hear my Dad and my mothers voice. Last thing I hear is him laughing, and going through my pockets. Steals the necklace my mother gave me, the one I have now.
But...then I'm not dead. You're there-you catch the axe handle with your hand before it hits, knock the fellows head about off with your own axe.
Then, I'm dead again, and it's all quiet...and cold. I see you running past me, like you're chasing something...or running away. I can't move, but it doesn't hurt anymore.
Then...I'm alive. We're fighting alongside each other, fighting for the village. We watch each others back, get everyone together to take on the bandits.
Then, quiet and cold. I'm in a hole in the ground. Somebody is throwing dirt in a grave, over my face. It looks like the old man, who ran the forge with you. I'm laying down with...my family, from the old place. My mother and sister. It's not too bad, being there. Feels...sort of peaceful, oddly.
Then I'm above the grave, helping to shovel in dirt, alongside you...burying my mum, and my sister.
It gets fuzzy, and the dream starts all over again...that's pretty weird, huh?" He says, raising an eyebrow.
...
In time, Rankar and Caellach will crest the mountain-looking down upon the green lands beyond.
----
Solbryn calls down in Midlish (name WIP), the common Human tradetongue of the lands.
The beastman shrugs mightily, repeating his gesture-pointing to Solbryn, and then downward in an axe chopping motion.
Aethla whispers to you, perched tightly on your wrist. Her tiny claws dig in, sharp, but not painful.
"Uh, I can speak Harpette, Midlish and Aertounge (the last one is the language of avians and those beings tied into air element)...but not whatever that is. What should you...we do? He can't come up and get us, right...but, I guess he could cut the tree down..." She comments.
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Topic: Dualism - Game Thread [Round I: Spring] (Read 11198 times)