forums.rs

Forums

Draconic Interactions (3)

Quick find code: 49-50-431-65640185

of 112
Darlantan

Darlantan

Posts: 3,189 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Thlorian
A man stood in a chamber of a black-stoned room. He was wearing a black hoodie, with the hood up, and over this he was wearing a large, black trenchcoat. The hood cast a shadow over his face, which, in combination with the darkness of the room, made the features of his face indiscernible. The man was an imposing figure, easily eight feet tall, and a steel necklace of a pentagramed-pentacle with a dragon trapped within could be seen hanging outside of his trenchcoat. A few feet in front of him was the head of a brown dragon. The dragon's head was enormous, easily large enough to swallow an adult dragon whole, but both its features and the body that supported it could not be seen in the darkness of the room. The man spoke emotionlessly.
Thlorian's head appeared as a miniaturized dragon's head. It was covered in brown scales, had two small ear frills, two small back-set horns, slender scythe-like spines disappearing down the neck, and many teeth protruding downward from the mouth. It's expression was as emotionless as his voice; his yellow, reptilian eyes however were different. They were filled with terrible emptiness and a brutal cunning and had a gaze that seemed to stare right into one's soul.
He was still wearing his hoodie, though the hood was not up. The back of it had large rips in it, allowing a pair of brown wings to protrude, and he was wearing black denim pants, torn just before his knees and containing a large hole in the back for his tail to fit through. All of his exposed, highly muscular body, aside from his wing membranes, was covered in brown scales.
Frilarth
Frilarth was very similar to Forlirn in appearance. He was somewhat larger, his scales were of a slightly lighter color, and his eyes were more of a purpleish grey than purpleish silver, but otherwise there were very few differences between the two.
Haragco
This is 17 Conqueror's npc. He is a young red-scaled dragon.

01-Aug-2011 08:30:12 - Last edited on 01-Aug-2011 09:01:15 by Darlantan

Darlantan

Darlantan

Posts: 3,189 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Reonga
Behind him was an old man, stooped from age. He was about five feet five inches tall, had pure white hair tied in a topknot, had a somewhat long beard, bushy eyebrows, stern grey eyes, and was wearing grey robes. He was leaning on an interesting staff/warhammer hybrid. It began with smooth, twisted wood, as a staff usually would, but was topped with a large, rectangular hammer head with two spikes jutting out of the top and a ruby set in the center of each side.
Frilarn
Frilarth nodded and poke his head into the cage. A few minutes later he removed his head from the cage, a small, slightly-older-looking-than-a-hatchling silver dragon laying on it. It had a very emaciated appearance, each one of its bones clearly etched beneath its scales and was covered in cuts and bruises. Despite this, the resemblance between the dragon and Frilarth was unmistakable, the only major differences being the dragon's small size and the color of its scales, which were silver with a purple tint.
Minor npcs
Ventrus and Draxta
Ventrus is a male young adult blue dragon. Draxta is his mate; she is also a young adult blue dragon. They care for a currently unnamed hatchling. Ventrus only has three legs, though his missing back right leg is replaced by a prosthetic that can only be identified as false under close examination.
Draxta is DECEASED
Marcus
This local doctor specialized in dragons but turned out to be a psychotic serial killer.
DECEASED

01-Aug-2011 08:30:18 - Last edited on 01-Aug-2011 09:01:55 by Darlantan

Darlantan

Darlantan

Posts: 3,189 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Quotes from the previous thread
Here I shall put quotes that I believe include important information and the like.
"Check the area's resonant magic," Forlirn said. "You see, under normal circumstances magic exists in a uniform field throughout the world. This uniformness is disturbed by the presence of magical items or use of magic. Most magic users cause disturbances in the field, so the home of the witch would likely have a greater disturbance in the resonant magic than it's surroundings. Whether or not the witch herself would cause a noticeable disturbance would depend on her skill and how much magic she has been recently using."
"It's really quite simple," Forlirn said. "Most magical wards and such are formed by creating a net of magic around whatever is to be protected. Removing it simply requires one to know which thread to cut."
At this Caelidorus reached into his cloak and withdrew a longsword. Its blade was plain, unadorned except for an engraving of a reptilian eye toward hilt. The hilt itself was more intricate; it was made of a green colored metal, the crossguards were shaped to resemble dragon wings, the center of the hilt had a circular jewel set in it surrounded by an engraving of a triangle with two crescents passing parallely through it, and the pommel was triangular with an identical jewel and engraving set in it and two sharp-looking crescents extending out of it.

01-Aug-2011 08:34:31 - Last edited on 01-Aug-2011 09:02:21 by Darlantan

Darlantan

Darlantan

Posts: 3,189 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
"My only plans for the moment involve not reentering that settlement for some time," Forlirn said. "Since Caelidorus wants to hear of my involvement with the Seekers so badly, I doubt he'll leave me alone until I tell it, so I may as well tell it."
He paused for a moment, then began speaking with a tone of solemnity.
"It was a great many years ago, possibly before any of you were born..."
The ceiling is high and vaulted, carved of the dark stone the entire citadel is made of. Hanging from the ceiling are many wrought-iron chandeliers containing light-blue softly-glowing stones, dispelling the darkness to an extent with their light-blue light. On the floor is a great group of silver dragons arranged in a half-circle, with the straight part of the half-circle consisting of the wall. Four dragons stand inside the half-circle: a much younger version of Forlirn, standing with his back-end against the wall and facing the other three; the clan elder, a large and ancient dragon, absent-mindedly looking in Forlirn's direction; the clan leader, an average-sized dragon of about three centuries of age, staring at Forlirn with unmasked hate; and Morlim, Forlirn's twin, his eyes glinting with triumph as he enjoys the moment.
"You were a fool to return here, exile," the leader spits. "Twice we give you life when you deserve it not. There shall be no third time."
"You obviously don't understand," Forlirn growled. "He-" he indicates Morlim "-knows the name!"

01-Aug-2011 08:34:37 - Last edited on 01-Aug-2011 09:03:07 by Darlantan

Darlantan

Darlantan

Posts: 3,189 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
"Silence, traitor!" the leader shouts. "For your crimes I sentence you to-"
"Wait, lets not be so hasty," Morlim interrupts. "He is obviously an unintelligient fool, that we can agree on. Yes, he is a traitor, and I, being his victim, can attest to that. But must we bring death upon him?"
At this point he begins slowly pacing the half-circle, now addressing not the leader but the entire crowd.
"For if we were to kill him, we would be no better than he. Yes, he must be punished, but a punishment is meant to bring enlightenment to the punished. True, a punishment of death serves as a deterant to those who fear it, unlike he. In this case it therefore fails to serve its purpose, for one who is dead will obviously recieve no enlightenment. However, this is a serious offense, so a usual unkilling punishment would be unsuitable. I therefore propose a punishment of a century of reflection in the greatest confinement, followed by-"
At this point Morlim has unconsciously come between Forlirn and the leader and elder. Forlirn does not hesitate, immediantly leaping forward and seizing Morlim's neck in his jaws. Three of the dragons from the crowd almost instantaneously rescue Morlim, knocking Forlirn against the wall with a cracking of breaking bone and blood pouring from a wound in his face, a wound which would become a scar he would wear for the rest of his life. They were too late to save Morlim, however, for Forlirn had pierced a major artery in his neck. Realizing the end was near, Morlim begins whispering a single, complicated, many-syllabled word. Just before the dragons can end Forlirn's life they realize with horror what Morlim whispers. They turn, but before any can reach him Morlim utters the final syllable.

01-Aug-2011 08:34:42 - Last edited on 01-Aug-2011 09:03:21 by Darlantan

Darlantan

Darlantan

Posts: 3,189 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
A shrieking splits the air. It is followed by the shrieks of the dragons as creatures of shadow arise and tear them apart, adding to the chorus their hissing, insubstancial laughter, complementing a deeper, more real laughter that seems to be enaminating from everywhere at once. Forlirn, not noticed by the Seekers due to his appearance of one having been recently killed, watches with tired, hopeless eyes, considering letting them end it all. Not wanting to give them a complete victory, however, he, barely able to remain conscious, finds the strength to flee, escaping unnoitced from the chaos through one of the chamber's many passageways. Out of immediant danger, his pace slows, almost to a stop. Thus, slowly limping through the citadel's deserted passageways Forlirn escapes, the screams of his dying kin echoing the entire way.
"...and through that entire massacre not a single true Seeker was killed. You see, through the millenia the clan lived as the greatest enemies of the Seekers not a single one of its members found a way to kill them, provided they can in fact die. Perhaps even more frightening is they are not magical: it was Neuva where the citadel one stood. They are the true Seekers; the Seekers you are familiar with, Caelidorus, is a group of human assassins subservient to the true ones, related only from each group sharing the same leader."

01-Aug-2011 08:34:48 - Last edited on 01-Aug-2011 09:03:46 by Darlantan

Darlantan

Darlantan

Posts: 3,189 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
"I'll try to be a bit clearer," Forlirn said quietly. "You see, the true Seekers are bound by certain laws as much as we are bound to laws such as 'what must go up must come down.' One of these laws is their true name: whenever one speaks it, they are immediately summoned. My brother learned their true name. I attempted to prevent him from using it, but I was unable. Although I killed him, he summoned the Seekers, which murdered my former clan. As for them being the clan's enemy, they have always been the clan's greatest enemy, though known of us ever knew the true reason why."
The voice took on a sneering quality.
"Perhaps you don't understand. We have worked toward our goal for millennia and Glacignes is the only in our way."
"Thy grip on life has been released but thy grip on honor has been forever retained. May you rest in peace with this knowledge," he spoke solemnly in Draconic, as was his custom.
"We have different values," Caelidorus said indifferently. "For my clan there is nothing more important than honor. Destroying the sanctity of the ritual of the dead takes away the slain's honor. Unlike the living, the dead can not defend their honor, so destroying their honor when they have earned it is one of the greatest crimes one can commit. The punishment is not exile, so it's not among the worst, but it is incredibly close. In the case where one does it intentionally, then it is punishable by exile..."

01-Aug-2011 08:34:53 - Last edited on 01-Aug-2011 09:04:07 by Darlantan

Darlantan

Darlantan

Posts: 3,189 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
"A half-dragon is an Elunian with a human and a dragon parent. They're not born very often, and when they are I'd estimate less than one out of a thousand lives to reach a mere year of age, even less to adulthood. Those that do manage to survive lives as pariahs. They are always hunted, both by humans, who view them as corrupted, and dragons, who see them as impure. They have no others of their kind to go to, no safe havens; even non-human humanoids, often despised by humans themselves, try to kill them. You'll probably never meet one; still, I'd be surprised if at least one isn't imprisoned somewhere in these lands."
Only a single result existed for the Joseph Thomson Matthew was searching for. It was a photograph of his family when Joseph himself was barely old enough to walk. In it, Joseph clung to the pants leg of his father. Next to him was a boy of about six, presumably his brother, standing near his mother. Ominously, Joseph was the only one in the picture without a gun. The mother, however, was the only one actually holding one. On its barrel, only partially visible and small enough to be easily overlooked, was an insignia depicting an eye pierced by a dagger.
Caelidorus intently observed the picture for a few minutes.
"There!" he exclaimed suddenly, pointing to the insignia on the mother's gun. "That's their symbol. They're Seekers... But there's something off: Seekers never form families. Why th- wait a minute..."
He stared at the photograph, a silently mouthing words.
"It says something underneath the gun. I believe it reads 'So the truth may be remembered...'"
The more specialized assassins usually carry neurotoxins that can kill or paralyze dragons in mere minutes.
For a Tempest, pain is similar to touch: we can feel each but are not directly affected by either.

01-Aug-2011 08:34:58 - Last edited on 01-Aug-2011 09:04:19 by Darlantan

Quick find code: 49-50-431-65640185 Back to Top