RP:Coterie Adventures - Hunt For A Grey's Most Precious Treasure
Part of the Grey Blight Arc
Main Characters:
- Svilfon, vampire, reckless wizard.
- Eklenisec, draconian, knight of Vakmatharas.
Written in late September 2011.
The Preparation
The tavern is slightly chilled, and more uncomfortable to those who enjoy the warmth that other buildings and inns have to offer. As you glance about you see normal sized chairs for visitors such as humans, dwarves, elves, and the like of medium sized humanoids that would enter and leave this place. Along all four walls lays a large oak made booth, suitable for its giant inhabitants to sit and enjoy their drinks and meals in comfort, among the booths lay various blood stained marks as well as chips and cracks along the surface from older brawls that had taken place in the passed. Upon further inspection, this massive tavern seems to have a skeletal head of a large dragon hanging from the ceiling, wrapped and constricted in pale blue chains, while your eyes continue to explore, you notice a rather bulky and well toned frost giant behind the bar. Upon his left eye, which you notice is blinded, a scar travels down and along his jaw, travelling even further to his neck, and vanishing under the heavy clothing that rests on his chest. The large bartender simply watches you, awaiting to see if you are here to rest, or order from the menu, as well, beside the old giant awaits a massive sized war-axe, in case you would be here to start some trouble.
Kirien had one of the gold-engraved tomes from Satoshi's personal library tucked under one arm when he slipped gingerly through the doors of the tavern. His movements seeming somewhat more tentative than usual, and his coat buttoned all the way up, the empath strode over to the bar to acquire himself a drink before he'd make for one of the smaller armchairs and sink into it. The book was opened up across his lap as Kirien began to read again, humming thoughtfully to himself round the icy rim of his glass.
Svilfon is sitting in his one-armed armchair, a bottle of blood-wine clutched tightly, while his free hand toys with his wand. He begins to mutter something moments before Kirien walks in, and as the empath enters Svil flashes him a crooked grin. "Knew it," is all he says by way of greeting, though what he knew may be unclear. With a nod to himself, and a prod of his hat by way of tippin' it to Kiri, Svil goes back to drinking his blood-wine and twirling his Xalious wand.
Kirien murmured absently to himself, “Affinity to stone…” as he sipped his drink, apparently reading out a small excerpt of the book on his lap. Fingers traced the indentations in the gold, the empath caught up enough by the words he read that he didn’t truly acknowledge Svilfon’s presence for a good couple of seconds - not until he spoke, even. At that point, Kirien’s head jerked up and he blinked across at the wizard, brief surprise melting into instant curiosity. “Knew what?”
Svilfon was quietly thinking he was rather clever, and flashed a small, probably un-noticed grin at the snow queen. He raises his bottle to his cracked lips and finishes it off in celebration, before getting up from his wizard-indented chair and wandering over to Kirien. He briefly grasps the man's shoulder in greeting, before taking a seat next to him. "Your magic. I knew it was coming." The wizard nods to himself more than the empath. "But not well enough..." The faintest shake of his head later, Svilfon is all smiles again. "What'cha reading there?" He tries to take a peep at the words, but apparently reading upside-down isn't a known wizard skill.
Kirien’s expression turned to slight bemusement. He watched the wizard quizzically, the emotions and that little grin picked up giving cause for him to furrow his brows some and wonder what exactly he’d missed. “My magic?” The empath was sitting on a large enough chair at least that Svilfon could squash in beside him with little trouble and so Kirien did not try to shove him away, a flick of the ear and a gentle nudge given in response to that shoulder squeeze. “I don’t get it. You sensed me, or…?” Confused, he puffed his cheeks in a somewhat childish manner then sighed, and prodded at the book once or twice when the subject was changed to his reading material. “Dragons. Apparently this one is a compendium of some species.” A finger ran down a golden page to find his place again, then prodded at a specific word. “‘Grey dragons have a special affinity to stone - they can exude a stony essence that petrifies foes that have been immobilised by their claw or breath weapon attack’,” he read out before shrugging, and taking a drink of his cider. “Kinda like the sound of ‘em, myself.”
Satoshi smirks into her drink as she half-listens to the conversation. Clearly the wizard's been practicing.
Kirien would probably have waved animatedly to Satoshi but that hurt too much, so he just sort of grinned over his drink at her instead.
Kasyr simply meanders into the tavern, looking a bit better for wear than he had earlier on. But than, that's not saying all that much given that a paladin had picked a fight with him earlier on- ..and the ensuing fight had coaxed Kasyr into losing his patience and bludgeoning his honourable opponent into submission. Whatever the case, the kensai’s arm isn't a bloody mess anymore, and he's simply standing around the tavern, looking about with a seemingly bored look.
Satoshi goes from half-listening to properly listening when dragons are mentioned. The kit just can't help herself in that aspect.
Svilfon smiles another little conspiratorial grin by way of answering Kirien's first questions, as well as a, "Yes." Not really an answer, but it almost is. Before he can gloat at being sneaky, the wizard's attention is grabbed by the empath's words, and soon he is nodding along, "Grey dragons..." He lets out a quiet sigh, "Formidable in battle, brutish and often impossible to deal with. With no qualms at all about destroying someone first, then asking questions later." He chuckles, "Though, the last is a trait of most dragons." He lapses into thought about the greys, "They are hard to find, my brother... Though, not impossible. You thinking of trying out your terramancy against them? Personally, I'd say you were insane. But damnit, I like it!" The wizard's grin is most crooked at that. Anything less than sane suits him just fine.
Satoshi absently slides a drink down the bar in Kasyr's direction--a little melody ensuring the liquid travels where she wants it to, considering her distinct lack in bartending lessons. "It's not poisoned, I promise."
Satoshi said to Svilfon, "It's not a trait just for dragons. Unless I married a dragon in disguise."
Satoshi thinks on that thought a bit more...
Svilfon said to Satoshi, "I married one who isn't in disguise. At least yours pretends."
Kirien’s ears pricked up some at the kensai’s entrance, white-tipped sound receptors swivelling and turning in his direction. He might’ve turned his head briefly and offered a raise of glass and a quirk of lips in a slight smile to Kasyr, but Svilfon stole his attention away again by elaborating on grey dragons to him; he nodded in response, taking another drink of chilled cider. “Aye. Don’t you think they sound pretty intriguin’?” Relaxing back into the chair again, the empath canted his head to one side and ran a hand down the book. “Test my terramancy on them? Ooh. Almost, but not quite, Svil.” The idea of it prompted his smile into broadening and forming a more mischievous grin. “They’re dangerous and almost impossible to deal with, as you say - but what if you’re raisin’ them? That’s what I wanna try. I wanna get an egg, hatch it, an’ raise that thing like I raised Nameless. I’m surprisingly good with flyin’ things.” Kirien paused. “Flyin’ scaly things at least. Firenze’s an entirely different story.” Another moment of silence came as he glanced in Kasyr’s direction again, frowning curiously. He sniffed, once. “…Is that you? Smells like…storms.” A static in the air, soft right now but growing…and enough to unnerve the vampire some.
Kasyr idly plants a hand over the drink once it slides at him- before offering Satoshi a distinctly pleased grin, "We might be having a paladin playing around here, Cherie. I think I intrigued him. Just so tu know."
Satoshi 's hood gives a twitch and a jingle before Trebel's head pokes out, the angha having heard familiar voices. Absently the kit scratches at the hatchling's ears while keep some of her attention on Kirien and Svilfon, and devoting the rest to giving Kasyr a baffled look. "A paladin? As long as he's not thinking of going vampire hunting, I don't mind. The foolhardy, trustworthy sort?"
Kasyr said to Kirien, "Er, I'm pretty sure that es not moi, just so you know."
Kirien said to Kasyr, "I smell ozone...an' you're the only one here I know with a tendency to use-- lightnin'."
Kasyr gets a chesire like grin in response to Satoshis' query, that familiar slyness entering his features, "Aye. Foolhardy, in conflict with Vuryal -et- a swordsman. Surprisingly creative one. A bit of an…unfocused talent though, j'pense. I don't think it's been long that he's been playing at saving the world."
Svilfon was too engrossed in his discussion with the terramancer to offer Kasyr anything more than a token wave of his hand, still clutching his empty bottle of blood-wine. "They sound exciting!" He grins yet again, he always does in the empath's company, before nodding his head along with the rest of the rogue's words. "You want to raise one..." His agile mind runs through this, before he stops, sits forward, and turns to stare at the un-seeing eye of Kirien. He finds it a touch creepy, but only a touch. "You... you want to steal a grey dragon egg from their nest?" Whether it is dread or excitement running through the wizard would be hard to tell, but it could well be clarified by his final words, "Holy shit, Kirien. I like the way you think!" He chuckles then and leans back in his chair. "You realize," he says in quiet tones, "if this one doesn't like you, much like the hawk doesn't, it won't just bite your ears?"
Kasyr said to Kirien, "...Maybe there's still a...residual charge a moi? J'en sais pas. Er, I don't know- I did use an awful amount there."
Kirien said to Kasyr, "...J'en sais..." Seemed he was trying to mimic the accent. He shrugged though, a mite bemused. "...Maybe."
Satoshi sips from her drink--and even shares a few drips with a curious Trebel--before replying quietly, "So long as his presence doesn't bring the Time Lord down on my ears, then. I don't need that. Let him play with the island. Or the Lady. Whichever is his toy of interest this week." The kit shrugs then, to jostle the angha that's now coughing and spluttering in distaste at the wine's flavour.
Eklenisec : The smell of a storm grows nearer, just as Kirien smells. In fact, were it not for a lack of thunder, it would smell like a storm is moving quickly to position itself over the frozen city, to situate itself to drench the snow and slick over to ice. But the scent is strongest when the door to the tavern opens, a rather tall woman - for non-giant standards - pushing her way through the portal to stand just within the entrance, eyes as blue as a cloudless sky turning this way and that. Wings rustle and her tail sways, the draconian's jaw tensing as a few giants glare with unadulterated desires to get up and fight the dragon kin simply for what she is. "Friendly place," she sneers, her hands never far from the sword and whip at her hips.
Svilfon can't help but make some 'Ooochi-woo-woo' noises at Trebel. Dignity, ever was it a fleeting companion of the wizard.
Kirien cast a quick glance Satoshi’s way at that dulcet little jingle, curious. The vampire’s features evened out into another bright grin - clearly he was excited to see Trebel again. “Hey, little guy~.” That’s all he managed to call across to the hatchling before he turned back to Svilfon and snorted at his crude language. “Aye! Raise it! Y’might not think it, seein’ Nameless an’ how he acts but sand wyverns are pretty damn violent themselves. I raised him well! Surely I can raise a grey just as good.” A page turned in the book and he hummed softly to himself at the remark about his unfriendly red-tailed hawk and fates worse than ear biting. “I’ll make sure it likes me. Def.” Nose scrunched up then as the pungent scent of a storm grew within the tavern, reaching its height when the door opened and the source of it stepped over the threshold. Kirien turned a sightless eye upon the draconian, taking a second or two to work out that it was not his impaling friend from yesterday.
Satoshi eyes the saurian stranger with open suspicion, although Trebel's inspection is of a more curious sort as he voices chimes at his distant, distant relative.
Kirien nudged Svilfon in the ribs when he started making weird noises beside him.
Kasyr scoops up the drink he had his hand over and takes a gulp, before tossing a careless glance over his shoulder towards the newcomer that seems to have momentarily arrested the attention of his companions, "Hrm. Affinity et all. Bonjour, et cetera et cetera. And that is about the sum of my hospitable spirit. I'm returning to my drink now." That impromptu bit done, Kasyr promptly goes back to paying very little attention to anyone.
Svilfon nods along to Kirien's words, taking the jab in his ribs with a quiet snicker. "Wyverns, my friend, are not the same kettle of fish, as it were." He stops talking to eye the draconian. The wizard grins at her, the look somewhat ambiguous, before carrying on speaking to the empath beside him. "You do realize, Kirien, you will not be able to sneak in and steal it. It will involve you...me...us..." Yes, the wizard has invited himself along, "more than likely facing off against one or more psychotic angry dragons?" He briefly flashed his gaze to Eklenisec then, "The big kind."
Eklenisec hears...chimes? Tiny chimes. That causes her brow to scrunch, her body straightening out of curiosity of the sound. This way and that she seeks the source, for surely it's not one of the giants. It -must- be one of the smaller folk sitting over by the barkeep and his bar. It must be. She makes her way over, eyeing each in turn, and moving much more softly than Kirien's impaling friend. Definitely not Kesslenic. Strangely, she doesn't seem bothered by Satoshi's suspicion. Either she's used to it or thinks herself above caring. One of the two. The scent of the storm would also definitely be noticeable to those in her immediate vicinity, and definitely noted as being hers.
Kirien swirled the liquid in his glass a bit, watching the movement of the cider with a sightless gaze as he looked to Svilfon and shrugged. His other hand came up to toy with his memento; that little mithril and amber ring on its chain about his neck. Though he’d turned away from the draconian, the empath’s sense of perception was much more than those possessing proper vision and she was still under close watch. “I always thought wyverns were even more ferocious though, y’know?” he said idly. “Since they don’t have a breath weapon an’ such to defend themselves.” A brow raised when the wizard appeared to have decided on joining him on the dangerous search for an egg. “Hah! Dragon fights! We can do that. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find an unprotected nest or some such.” Seemed he wasn’t against the idea of his coven mate accompanying him.
Kirien then murmured, under his breath and mostly to himself, “J’en sais pas..” and tried to mimic that accent again.
Satoshi keeps an eye on the draconian for the sake of caution, but aside from that and a wrinkle of her nose at the scent, she pays the stranger no mind. Instead, her attention is on Kasyr and the other pair, her expression dark and brooding. Perhaps it's that corrupted ice she's still carrying that's eating away at her good cheer, or she's just too weary to summon up the energy to chitchat. Either way, Satoshi's quiet and Trebel's making up for it by bouncing ecstatically on her shoulder, jingling merrily, and fluttering weak wings.
Kasyr is for the most part enraptured by Satoshi, if only because she is providing a pleasant diversion from…people trying to stab him in the face. With only the occasional glance cast in the draconians direct due to her continued presence, the Revenant simply carries on as though nothing peculiar is going on, "Et bien- what es on your mind, cherie? You seem a bit, distrait, as it were."
Eklenisec actually...smiles. Or, at least, there's the ghost of a smile on her lips at the sight of the little angha. "That reminds me of when I was born," she says to no one in particular, simply watching those wings flit without enough force to lift the creature off the magus's shoulder. She lingers around the quartet, not at all inclined to shove off what with the talk of egg-napping going on. She does, however, have enough prudence to move to an open seat at the bar.
Satoshi answers simply, "Shadows and their offspring, for the most part." Dark corners, hoods, rose thorns, and razorblades aren't looking tempting yet, have no fear.
Svilfon nods again, "They have little man's syndrome." The wizard can't help but look at Kasyr then, and once again lets out a little snicker. "But tooth and claw is far less formidable than being turned into a pair of beautiful," he coughs, "statues, my comrade." His empty bottle is placed on the ground, then, before Svil looks over at what Kirien is drinking. Thinking it hardly appealing, he reaches into the remnants of his robes, still quite tattered after the recent events, and pulls out a small bottle of brandy. He raises it in silent salute, before pulling out the stopper and taking a drink. "We could get lucky, yes. Though dragons do not lay many eggs, fewer still survive. Often they are well guarded... Though, I have been told more than once I make fine bait..." The deceased wizard takes another thoughtful drink of his brandy. He doesn't really enjoy the taste that much, but salutes to the fallen must be maintained. "I am game if you are. Just do not get it into your head it will be easy. There is a high chance one of us, or both, won't make it back as anything less than a statue. But consequences are for pansies. I say it's worth the risk."
Satoshi 's little charge keens in delight at Eklenisec, because he's an attention-whore of the worst sort.
Satoshi is quite certain by this point that Kirien and Svilfon are indeed long-lost kin, and is all the gladder for having them in their strange family.
Kasyr gives a sidelong look at Svilfon, before casually remarking, "The shortest man is the one who finds himself beneath the ground, rather than treading upon it, non?" From there, his attention slips back towards Satoshi, the vampire pressing a hand up towards his forehead, fingers lingering at his brow, "I never took you for guarding a secret fondness for cryptic words. Not when something es darkening your mood blacker than a Vailkrin night."
Kirien caught Svilfon’s jibe and glance to the kensai and snorted into his drink despite his best attempts to do otherwise. His price for finding amusement in his sire’s shorter stature was a face dripping with Frostmaw’s original frigid cider, which he began to lick at afterwards in an endeavour not to get too much on his coat. “Nameless will bite you if he hears you said that, just so you know,” he stated to the wizard with a sidelong look and a smirk he couldn’t quite rid himself of; though it faded some at the mention of statues. “…I read about that, aye. Petrification! Reminds me of the goddamn basilisks back with the drow. Fun in some sense but…ah.” He trailed a finger down his own cheek and then licked the liquid caught on it away. “I think I could find a way round that kinda trouble. Then we’d just have…dragons to deal with. No problem!” That smirk widened into something eager and incredibly enthusiastic. “Let’s go egg huntin’!”
Eklenisec fights with herself to keep from smiling further at the little creature's antics. He's certainly a cute little thing. She waggles her claws at the angha before she shifts her gaze sidelong to both empath and wizard. "You could also very well end up with something less than dragon," she offers to the conversation. But should either look after she speaks, the draconian will look for the life of her like she hadn't intruded.
Svilfon raises his bottle in silent salute to Kasyr. He thinks it prudent to drop his line of thinking.
Satoshi leans backwards to balance dangerously upon two legs of the stool she's seated on, so that she can look at Kasyr in a decidedly upside-down fashion. "That wasn't being cryptic, that was having a lack of better," a sharp look goes to the unfamiliar draconian, "more descriptive, words." Trebel, left dangling by Satoshi's recent change of angle, knells his displeasure and half-falls, half-flutters his way toward where Kirien and Svilfon are, because discussions of fighting dragons seems safer than staying with the kit currently.
Kirien wasted no time in plucking Trebel up off the tavern floor when the little feathery furrball fluttered his way over to the two. If the angha allowed it, the empath would set him in his lap, or permit him to wander about atop his shoulders and head if he didn’t quite feel like sitting still. He’d give him affectionate scratches behind his ears and strokes of fingers through sleek fur though, while he continued to wipe up the alcohol on his face with his free hand and tongue.
Kasyr reaches over towards Satoshi and ruffles her hair up, mindful enough of any flailings he might cause- so that he can catch her seat with a chair if she tips back. Beyond that, the Kensai simply looks altogether pensive, "Et bien...I suppose I ought to wait than, until you feel a bit more like clarifying."
Svilfon seems, if anything, more excited by the draconian's words. Ever did he enjoy rolling the dice. His attention remains on the cider-soaked empath, though. "Aye, I am game!.." He frowns for just a moment. Soon he must face the lichdrow, and will very likely be destroyed. Was now the best time to go on a suicidal mission with Kirien? Hell yes it was! His decision made, he raises his brandy to the terramancer. "You let me know when you're ready. I am game. It'll be good practice for me..." For what exactly isn't clear. "Just... do you intend to fly Nameless to Venturil?" Probably the most likely place to find 'em. "I don't think I'd fit... though, there is that goat of mine... A fine mount! If Percy hasn't already caused him to kill himself." He spends a few moments patting Trebel's head, and making a series of undignified noises at it. Damnit, he loved the little guy.
Satoshi at least looks slightly less pensive at the kensai's affection, and even manages a ghost of a smile for him. "I'd prefer not to wait, if you're up for wandering in the snow again, after just getting out of it." See? Occasionally she can be mindful of how much the general public dislikes her city's weather.
Kasyr said to Svilfon, "if you end up coming back with a half et half...Well. That bit of parenthood es -all- you."
Kasyr , smart remarks to the Wizard aside, merely turns towards Satoshi and offers her an affirming nod, "Alright, Cherie- I suppose we'd best get a start on this as soon as possible, so that tu can go back to smiling, oui?" And really, the vampires getting out of his seat and pushing away from the counter, so it doesn't seem like he's going to try and wheedle out from braving the cold.
Satoshi straightens out her chair and hops down to follow after her husband. A parting ruffle of Trebel's black mane is all she offers in farewell to the group, along with a, "Don't eat him. And don't let him eat all the fish, either~." With that, the kit trots to catch up with Kasyr and head out into the snowfall.
Svilfon snickers at Kasyr, and decides mentioning his dragon-riding skills would break his word to Kirien and result in far more dire consequences.
Kasyr waits long enough for Satoshi to catch up, before he simply moves to link an arm with her and meander out. Onwards~
Eklenisec watches that pair of vampires go their separate way from the pair of men who discuss stealing a dragon egg, and she gives a rather sharp look towards Kasyr for his clear distaste for her kind. "Look on the bright side. If the hatchling is only half-dragon, it can't bite your arm off at birth."
Kirien grinned a bit when Trebel sat still for all of two seconds on his lap before attempting to ascend one of his arms as if it were a climbing wall to crawl across his shoulders instead. “I could go now, y’know. Depends when you’re up for it.” Making sure not to dislodge the angha and send him tumbling down to be half-squashed between his back and the back of the chair, Kirien shifted to close his book and set his now mostly-empty glass of cider on the table situated beside his current position. A hand ran briefly across his stomach then, a soft chime in his ear prompting a further grin from the fox. “I’m game for goin’ now. Probably crazy for that but…” Smoothing out his coat a bit, he waved to the departing couple, Trebel giving a curious jingle though he made no attempt to follow the two, apparently intent on being the third member of the egg stealing party. “…Oh! An’ Nameless can carry both of us, no worries. He’ll have no baggage this time.”
Kirien said to Eklenisec, “It might! Who knows! Hopefully it'll chew on the metal one at least.”
Svilfon looks around the room just briefly, then. He took a quiet sip of his brandy, before absently offering it to Kirien. "I don't see why not.." He shrugs away the thoughtful mood; thinking is for stupid people has always been his life motto. "You get Nameless ready, I will run to the library to return your book, plus pick up something I left there. We can meet on the cliff overlooking the Xalious mountains?" He looks over to Trebel and grins, "Are we taking him along? The icicle queen might get even more frosty if we put him at risk.. Then again, if he is to join us.. well, the little guy might as well get used to it!"
Eklenisec shakes her head at the pair. So they insist on going dragon egg hunting, eh? "You two are hopeless. You'll get no where fast without a dragon-kin with you."
Kirien wiggled about a bit then managed to extract himself from between Svilfon and the other side of the armchair. Why they’d squashed themselves into a single one was beyond him, though he’d not really minded until he realised how difficult it was to get out. With Trebel still perched on his shoulder and now chiming excitedly at the thought of adventures, the vampire turned to grin down at the wizard. He’d hold that book out in one hand for him to take, and would’ve offered the other had his arms not currently felt a little weak due to not having fully healed yet. “Aight. Don’t be too long, an’ don’t get lost in the books, aye? Or I’ll leave without you.” A tease. He’d wait. Fingers raised to tickle the eager angha under the chin. “It’ll be fine, we’ll take good care of him! If not, well-- his momma is gonna kill me. What kinda father lets his kid get hurt?” This, also, was a bit of a joke, but Kirien did feel a little bit like a father to the hatchling.
Kirien canted his head to Eklenisec. "You're comin' too, missy? Hope those wings of yours work - don't think Nameless could carry three."
Svilfon snickers at the empath. "The kind that doesn't live long." He takes the book, tips his hat, before tendrils of flame wrap around his body and tear him from the room, depositing him quickly in the library. The flames leave no trace in their wake, not even the chair he was sitting on was touched. He would not mention he ended up appearing sitting down on nothing and promptly fell over. But damnit, stylish teleporting is the way to go!
Eklenisec gives a nod to the kit vampire. "Yes, my wings work. They work quite well. I'll be surprised if your 'nameless' can keep up."
Kirien was really not fond of fire, magical or not. He’d scrunch his nose up a little at Svilfon’s exit but then turn to the draconian woman again, quirking a brow. “Well. Let’s go, or some such, I guess?” With that said, he’d be striding to the door and out, Trebel bouncing and chiming on his shoulder.
The Flight
The area opens wide here, with the side of the road running alongside sheer cliff, a straight drop which would surely kill anyone without the skill or wings to navigate it. Jagged rocks protrude from the cliff side, almost like daggers waiting to stab into a victim's soft flesh as they plunge to their death. As you look closer you can slightly make out old bones and bodies that have fallen in the past, due to slipping, or killed during duels, and just past that border of corpses is what appears to be a massive spire of ice, its point disappearing into the clouds. Strange as the structure seems, it becomes even more so the closer you look, for it appears to be systematically dotted with perfect half-circles, out of which frequently fly dragons, gryphons, and other winged beasts. Is there some sort of multi-species hive lurking within the icy confines? Brave the deadly cliffs if you wish to know more, or take the thin road here that leads east and west, towards the area of the tavern and the main area of town. Another path leads north to a steep hill, and a distant fort.
Kirien had walked, presumably with Eklenisec somewhere behind him, to the very edge of the cliff in silence. Trebel had been unable to keep quiet the entire time, it seemed, chiming excitedly at the idea of his first upcoming adventure; though the empath had to calm him down a little when his strides came to a halt at that precipice. One hand petting the young angha absently between the ears, the other raised to press fingers to his lips and emit a shrill whistle, echoing oddly, that filled and hung in the frigid air around them. A couple of moments passed before a deafening roar came in answer to the sound, Nameless soaring to Kirien’s summons. He landed smoothly on the cliff edge, black talons gripping the rock, his massive wings furling and unfurling a couple of times before the large claws halfway along them that doubled as his forelegs hit the snow. Kirien grinned at him. “Guess who’s goin’ on an egg hunt~” he said to the wyvern while Trebel started up his eager jingle again, tiny wings fluttering some at the sight of Nameless. Nameless might have rolled his eyes - at Kirien, not at the angha. If he could speak he might have chastised the bold vampire, but instead he merely huffed a breath that had steam curling and misting up from his jaws, knowing he could do little to persuade the man against this.
Svilfon had spent but a few moments at the library, returning the book to its rightful place before picking up a small bottle he'd left in there for safe keeping. With it tucked into the many pockets of his tattered robes, the wizard tipped his hat to no-one in particular and wandered out. He isn't stupid enough to teleport from that room, the snow queen would eunuch him in an instant. Through the twilight cave he goes, until he's standing in the howling winds that ever blow through Frostmaw's mountainous regions. He grins, just briefly, before speaking a quiet word and tearing himself once more through Hollow... He appears at the cliff edge, to the sight of Nameless giving Kirien the wyvern version of 'that look'. This the wizard finds too much to bear and he bursts out laughing, "Ahh, I do like you, Nameless." With a tip of his hat to the empath's pet, the wizard would look over at the draconian and loft a much-singed brow. "You coming along?" The fact a complete strange was coming with them doesn't seem to bother the wizard much. He flashes the woman a gap-toothed and pearly fanged grin, before asking Kirien, "Ready?"
Eklenisec stops a few feet short of Kirien after that wyvern alights on the ground. Between the look the wyvern gives the kit, Trebel and his antics, or the kit's own antics, she doesn't know whether to facepalm or laugh. When Svil shows up and poses his query, she gives him a nod. "Yes, I'm coming. Vakmatharas knows you two will need the help." Did she just invoke the name of a dark god? Why yes, yes she did. "And I have a feeling you both would give the dragons stomach aches if I let them eat you two."
Kirien couldn’t help but flinch at Svilfon’s abrupt reappearance nearby, his only warning before the wizard popped back into his immediate perception being the faint flicker of magic in the general area he materialised in a half-second later. Nameless, who’d been eyeing Trebel curiously, turned his emerald-flecked amber gaze on Svilfon and attempted a vague grin at his remark. Meanwhile, Kirien was nodding to himself (or to Svilfon) as he moved to tug at the harness strapped round his wyvern’s torso and make sure it was still properly secured. Only afterwards would he leap up into it and assume an odd crouch atop Nameless’ back, leaning forward. Fingers wrapped round the handlebars attached to the front of the harness only after he’d carefully plucked Trebel off his shoulder, murmuring, “You gotta get down from there or we’ll lose you, guy,” to the angha before he tucked him down to safety in the depths of his coat. It was warm there, so Trebel didn’t seem to mind much, poking his head out occasionally to peer at the others. “Hop on,” Kirien said with a grin to Svilfon, nodding to Eklenisec thereafter. “Better make sure you keep up, aye, or Vakmatharas help us if we lose our much needed dragon-kin company.” A smirk.
Svilfon nods his head to the draconian. "Sounds good!" He flashes a grin, finding the mention of the dark god more than a little amusing. It added spice, he thinks, before he wanders on over to Nameless. A quiet moment is spent by the wyvern, his hand resting on its body, before the wizard awkwardly half-leaps up to grab hold of the second set of handles. He pulls himself up and adopts the same crouched pose; a leg on either side, one hand gripping the handle-bar, the other adjusting his hat before giving Trebel an affectionate pat on the head. He taps Kirien's shoulder, "If I fall off, I'm taking you with me!" Before he turns back to the draconian and grins, "No clashing of loyalty, I hope!" His words are half torn away by the ever-howling wind, "Would be awfully rude of you to travel with us, before sharing us all as a meal between your distant kin." There is a wink sent in the wake of his words, and another gap-toothed grin. How serious he is is anyone's guess, really.
Nameless watched Svilfon approach with sharp eyes, but the pause to allow him a moment to adjust to another’s touch before he climbed up earned the wizard a hint of a nod from the wyvern, who then turned his gaze briefly on Eklenisec. The dragon-kin accompanying them all might have made a bit of a face at the antics of the others but she’d mostly keep to her silence, her large wings twitching a mite behind her. Kirien cast a wide grin back at his coven mate, his mouth moving but if he had a smart retort to that comment of Svilfon’s, it wasn’t heard, for the wind picked up ever more at that second. Nameless and his rider seemed to take that as an opportunity to take off and the wyvern swung round with only a bellow of a roar as warning to Svilfon and Eklenisec; they dropped over the edge of the cliff, Kirien leaning easily into the movement, moving in tandem with the wyvern. Nameless fell like a stone, shooting downwards before abruptly he was unfurling his massive wings and with a single, powerful beat, was speeding off across the frozen landscape. Once or twice, he circled that icy tower before he’d be winging his way in the direction of Venturil - the heavy beat of another pair of wings behind them hinted to the fact that Eklenisec had indeed joined them and was soaring along with the odd group, just off to the left of Nameless’ wingtip.
Svilfon is wise in the way of dragons. A quietly shared moment before embarking on adventure always goes down well; they are ever whores for respect and attention. When the wind picks up and Nameless lets out his mighty roar (Svil would remember to compliment on it later) the wizard grabs hold of his handlebar tightly and lets out a whoop! of excitement. Which soon turns into a somewhat girly 'Eeeep" as they begin to plummet faster than a stone. He holds on for dear life, not wanting to give the magelings the satisfaction of his death coming from 'being squished to pieces after falling off a cliff', and then all of a sudden downward momentum gives way as powerful wings beat the air against the force of gravity. Svil, not being nearly as eloquent rider as Kirien, in fact a sack of carrots would probably have more grace, is far too unprepared for the shift in direction. His legs give way and the yelp of pain that escapes his throat is dangerously higher pitched than his usual voice. "Grrommpph," he manages by way of complaint, before the pain is forgotten. Beneath them is the exposed beauty of Frostmaw. A land that screams, 'be strong or die.' It touches the wizard for a moment, his more reckless side anyway, before he pats Kirien on the back and points towards Venturil. "Onwards, my brother!"
Kirien and Nameless twisted and moved in perfect synch; every dip of the wyvern’s was followed by the empath lowering himself closer to his back, and each tug on the handlebars sent the dragon veering off in that direction. Mostly he allowed Nameless to guide the way, being utterly blind in the air - but it almost did not seem it, for Kirien was grinning and moving without fear, his head tilting back at one point to let loose a long, exotic cry of utter exhilaration that echoed about the wasteland they soared across. The touch to his back was noted and had Kirien blinking sightlessly back at Svilfon, unaware of the fact that he was pointing in a specific direction. Nameless knew where they were going and turned then, the shift of powerful muscle beneath the empath enough to prompt Kirien into leaning again, following that slightly slower twist round. “You still there?” he called to Svilfon in a laugh, just before his wyvern upped his speed again, a veritable golden lightning bolt streaking through grey skies above a vast land dressed in white silk and snowflakes.
Svilfon spends a long time lost in a world far different from Kirien's. The towering peaks of mountains, the herds of travelling animals, the ghostly ruins seen faintly in the distance, encased within the thin wisps of Frostmaw clouds. These are what steals the wizard's attention, and were it still needed, his breath. There was a beauty in the harsh mountains, one lost on the soft city folk who so often plague Hollow. The troubles of this land were not of how beautiful you look, how sparkly you seem. Death was a way of life up here; the mighty live, the weak die. As it should be. So when Kirien asked his question, the wizard was far away and did not at first answer. Slowly, though, as the towering ice begins to break way to the more arid mountains of Xalious, the wizard responds in a voice far too quiet for Kirien to hear. "You'll be coming with me when I fall, comrade!" There is a depth of feeling in the final word; anyone who flies around like this blind as a bat gets respect from Svilfon. So he risks the fall to briefly take a hand off the handlebar and squeeze Kirien's shoulder again, before he once again does the one thing he can never resist when dragon flying. He says a little prayer to the Lady Fortuna, before spitting off the side - hoping against hope it lands on some pretty bitch's face. It's the little things that most amuse the wizard.
Kirien, sometimes, wished he could still see, or had a more varied sense of perception. He knew all the many wonders of Frostmaw as he’d viewed them before going blind; from glistening mountaintops to seemingly endless ice sheets and soft blankets of snow that hid secrets and traps just below the surface. Jagged silhouettes of blue-grey mountains that jutted out of the sky, forests of gloom and eerie whispers, not unlike his previous home amidst the fog and trees north-west of Rynvale. It was beautiful as it was dangerous, a world where only the strong survived - and he’d survive here, damn it. Though unable to see where they were exactly, the empath did feel the air around them beginning to lose some of its chill, the frost that had coated his cheeks in stardust and silver shimmers beginning to melt as warmer climates drew nearer. Nameless soared high above the lands while white faded to grey, then soon terracotta and dusty orange as the barren plateaus north of Venturil came into view on the horizon. Svilfon wouldn’t find himself falling when he took his hand from the bar, now that the wyvern had assumed a more gentle and straight flight. “Psh. If you fell, I’d laugh at you,” Kirien shot back with a smirk. “My arms have barely any strength to them an’ I’m hangin’ on fine.” He’d usually only be holding that bar with one hand, but due to his current weakened condition, he’d decided to play it a little safer.
The Steal
With water diverted from the acidic river, and sweetened with a touch of druidic magic, a series of cascading pools descend from the misty depths of the waterfall. If one were to soak in the top tiny pool it would be near unto boiling, and pungent with the smell of sulphur. But by the time you reach the last and subsequently largest pool at the bottom of the hill, the waters, surround by the tranquillity of the dark forest are cool and fresh. As you move into the magical wilderness of the dark forest, the song of birds can be heard upon the air. A ways away from the waters lay a small white rose garden edged with succulent lilac flowers. Heady with perfumes their fragrance mingles with the aromas from the nearby river, and the year round scent lingers on in the hearts and memories of those whom once called this place home. The scent of the lilac also mingles with something harder to define, dreams and shattered illusions, overwhelming those who do not belong here with the desire to return from whence they came and free their mind of the rush of sensations.
Svilfon laughs at his comrade's words, mostly because he firmly believes them to be true. He eyes the ever-changing landscape below, taking careful note as the landscape grows ever more arid. Venturil. The wizard can't help but shudder - the last time he was here he was almost dead, laying in the sand at the mercy of the vicious lizards until the snow queen healed him with her icy magic. He still feels it inside him sometimes... With a shake of his head he dismisses this line of thought and focuses on the job at hand: The grey dragons. On his perch on Nameless' back the wizard closes his eyes and begins to murmur a quiet chant. The words whip through the air; a twisting series of sounds that seem entirely unsuitable for a human's - or vampire as the case may be - throat. He carries on for many a moment, blocking out Nameless beneath him, until his mind's eye begins to sense the various wyrms that live in the desolate area. It is a gift taught to him by his wife, and though it is not always entirely accurate, usually it is close enough. As his spell finally fades, Svilfon once again shakes his head, before leaning forward and whispering to Kirien, "We are close to where they are." Once again embracing danger, the wizard pulls his hand from the handlebar and uses it to move Kirien's head until his sightless gaze would be pointing in the rough direction of where the dragon's rest. "There, my brother... There is your prize..."
Kirien could smell sulphur on the air. It was something bitter and caustic that mixed with the aridity of this land south of Frostmaw and it clogged up his lungs when he inhaled; so he stopped breathing, which was marginally less difficult to do now he no longer required the need to draw in air to survive. Svilfon’s soft chant swirled with that toxic air as Nameless quietly soared over the wastelands, gliding across deadened forests full of dried leaves and dust and over wide, flat expanses where only the hardiest and scrubbiest of scrubs grew. While the wizard worked on seeking out their quarry and Nameless kept them all aloft and out of trouble, Kirien realised he was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable in his heavy coat and started to shrug out of it, wiggling around some until he’d managed to remove the garment altogether. Stuffing the coat into some bag somewhere, the empath leaned back and caught those murmured words over his shoulder, and tilted his head slightly to Svilfon. “Where?” The question was answered by the gentle moving of his head to turn blind gaze in the direction of the grey’s nests, while Nameless followed the movement and banked off to the left before beginning to slowly descend into the trees. They’d land somewhere near the dragons Svilfon sensed - though not close enough to be immediately noticed. “…So how do we do this?” asked Kirien, glancing between his two companions. A ‘whoosh’ followed and Svilfon might be wise to duck, because it seemed Nameless was intent on smacking the empath with his tail in punishment for not coming here with a plan.
Svilfon is very rarely called wise, a fact once again made abundantly clear as Nameless' tail strikes around and hits the wizard clean on his head, sending him sprawling to the dusty ground. "Ooomph." Quietly thankful he wasn't harnessed onto the wyvern, the wizard pushes himself to his feet and begins to brush off his tattered robes. Realising it is thing is futile, they were all-but ruined anyway, he gives up on this and instead gives Nameless a friendly whack on his side, "Thanks..." He was smart enough to dance out of the way before the wyvern could re-introduce him to his tail again, before the wizard lifts the brim of his hat and takes in the area. Dead trees growing amongst the sulphurous air; the perfect place to incubate eggs. His gaze lifts to the shimmering waterfall as it makes its way down to various pools; some emitting wavering lines of heat that dance in the shimmering air, causing the faint rainbows to appear crooked and broken. Higher and higher his gaze goes, until it settles on one of the biggest drops, where a virtual wall of water easily obscures a cavernous opening into the side of the mountain. It was there, he was sure, the dragons were resting... ever vigilant to protect their rare eggs from intruders. The man would wait until Kirien got off Nameless's back, before he spoke in quiet words, not wanting to alert the dragons, let alone the other vicious animals that make this place home. "Up, Kirien, on the side of the mountain. There is a deep opening. Dragons are in there, and so is an egg. I can feel it..." His voice trails off briefly, before he speaks again, "I think there is only one dragon in there, but I could be wrong. She," for it was surely the mother, "sleeps lighter than a drow, and is... hungry." He ends lamely with that. How else do you describe the pillars of rage that fuel dragon's rather limited motivations. "We will have to be careful."
Kirien was spared a smack, or so he thought, when poor Svilfon was caught by that. Unable to completely withhold it, a soft laugh came bubbling up out of the empath but he quickly suffered the same fate as his coven mate, knocked roughly from the wyvern’s back and harness as that long tail swung round again to clip him unceremoniously in the shoulder. Nameless huffed at his reckless rider and might have rolled his eyes, before he looked to Svilfon, scrutinised the man a moment, then offered him an apologetic lick to the cheek. Picking himself up off the ground in the meantime and brushing dust and dried, leafy detritus off his sweater, Kirien left the wizard to deal with the large amount of dragon-slobber that would likely be clinging to an entire side of his face. Stalking forward a little, silent, he mapped out the area briefly in his sight. He’d been here before so only needed a moment or two to recall the familiarity of the area, sniffing absently at the pools of sulphurous water bubbling away not too far away. Attentions were drawn upwards to an opening in the mountain that, while well-hidden from most, showed up a little clearer in the terramancer’s perception. Waterfalls looked odd to him though, he noted absently, turning to those who’d accompanied him. “Let’s -hope- there’s only one. It’ll make this so much easier,” he said in a hushed voice with a faint quirk of lips, pivoting back about. Falling quiet again, Kirien poured his focus into the earth and all its movements, studying the sheer wall they’d have to climb up in order to reach that cavern - and that troublesome, acidic waterfall. “…I can get us up there? I think. Hopefully quietly, unless any of you have quieter options.”
Svilfon is slobbered on! He flails about, before walking right up to Nameless and licking his head. The wyvern doesn't taste the best, but damnit!- at least now they were even. He offered Nameless a helpless little wink, before looking up again at the mountains. There was a plan forming in his mind; it was dangerous, reckless, probably stupid and had a low chance of working. Right up the wizard's alley. "When our newest comrade arrives," he points at the sky to indicate it was the draconian he means; he'd never really get used to Kirien being blind. "Him and I will... distract the dragon..." There is more than a hint of excitement in his voice. "While you go up and retrieve the egg. Nameless can take Trebel." At the mention of his name, the angha sticks his head out of the bag he was stuffed into with an indignant chime towards the terramancer that causes Svil to laugh despite himself. "Where was I? Oh yes! Nameless can take off with Trebel and when you have the egg he can pick you up... just keep him away from that water... it is.. wrong." By now the deceased spell-caster was waving his arms around, adding further detail to his plan. "When you and Nameless are safely fleeing with the egg, our draconian friend can fly off, I'll be the final distraction before I teleport back to you... What could go wrong?" He shudders, and really does need to stop saying that.
Eklenisec alights rather lightly upon the ground, a surprising thing for someone as large as she is. She lands in time to hear herself referred to as 'him', and she shoots the wizard quite the glare. "I am female." She points at her chest and the pair of round breasts there. At least she's not indecent, what with her scales covering anything that should be kept hidden. "See? Female." She looks up at the cliff face that opposes their ascent, and she can't help but to admit the wizard's plan is actually...rather sound. "I can get us up there, you know." Her tail sways in front of her as if to prove the point, its scales overlain like ladder rungs. "My wings should be powerful enough."
Kirien was, as previously stated, a little reckless. The plan Svilfon posed, while probably considered utterly mad by the wiser sort, worked quite well in his mind and soon the vampire was nodding along with the wizard as he spoke. Nameless honestly looked a mite surprised at that lick of retribution, and might’ve swished his tail once or twice in confusion before a tiny yet clearly vexed chime sounded from somewhere behind him, in the bag strapped to his side. Kirien offered Trebel an apologetic look. “Sorry, guy. Forgot you were in there.” He petted him briefly, running fingers through soft white fur before giving the angha a soft tickle under the chin. “Warm in there though, ain’t it? I think there’re some biscuits in there too. Have a look an’ stay in there, an’ Nameless’ll keep you safe, aight?” Though Trebel still looked somewhat put off at having been forgotten, mention of food had him disappearing with a little jingle back into the depths of that bag in search of snacks. “You better not die-- either of you,” Kirien said as Eklenisec came suddenly back into his perception upon landing, the empath glancing between wizard and dragon-kin a couple of times. He might’ve looked pointedly at the latter’s ample chest when it was spoken of, quirked a brow, then turned back to Svilfon. “I like this plan. You,” he said to Eklenisec, wiggling a finger at her, “can you carry us up above it? The cave. Then he can…work his magic.” He might’ve grinned before pausing, blinking, and reaching into the pocket of his breeches. “Oh. Here.” What looked to be a small, simple box was drawn out and tossed toward Svilfon. “Don’t want you petrified an’ all, do we?” Another raise of brows and a wiggle of white-tipped ears followed. “Use it if you need it.”
Svilfon shakes his head at Kirien, "You two go up, I'll wait here. I'll draw it down to me." He nods and flashes a gap-toothed grin, before catching the box. A singed brow is briefly raised, before with a shrug he tucks it into his tattered robes. He turns to Eklenisec, then, and speaks a simple reply to her indignation. "Perky." With a wink and a grin he once again looks up the mountain. "When I signal you, Kirien, you give it your special little... tap... like in the mines just less.. violent. We're here to collect a dragon egg, not scramble one." He winks again, getting quite excited by this entire plan of theirs. "Nameless takes care of the little one, you two get the egg from inside the cave, I'll distract the mother. When you're done... quickly, if possible, you, lady dragon," he tips his hat to her, "fly outta here as fast as you can, take Kiri to his wyvern then flee. When I am done the dragon is going to be... upset... and when she finds her egg gone, shit is going to get nasty. Do not worry about me, or come back for me. Can't lose our entire force, eh? Risk, the spice of life." He tips his hat a final time to both of them. "Fly fast, fly safe."
Eklenisec nods at the proposed course of action. Carry the fox, get the egg, get the hell out of there. She can do that. She can -live- with that. Might make a person wonder just how much stock she puts into the 'lives' of either vampire present. "Alright you," she says to the fox-man, grabbing hold of him about the waist and crouching ever so slightly, "hold on." Into the air she leaps, a single, powerful beat of her wings sending her soaring upward. Flap, flap, flap, and the pair keep rising. She looks down at the cliff, at the cave they're supposed to be waiting to infiltrate, and gives a nod. This should be high enough to escape an enraged dragon's notice at first. "Just so you know. If it sees us, you're screwed."
Kirien looked like he wanted to protest not coming back for Svilfon but he was suddenly being drawn into some sort of embrace (or grapple - either or) by Eklenisec and became somewhat distracted. “Oh. Ri-riiiiight!” The affirmation left him at a slightly higher pitch than he’d intended it to, and was more of a cry than anything else, because she’d leapt skyward without warning and then he was utterly blind and dangling awkwardly at the mercy of this strange dragon-kin. “L-Land damn you!” he half-squeaked, half-hissed, clutching at the woman wherever his fingers could find purchase and a good grip on her body. “I can’t fuckin’ see!” But it seemed Kirien did not have to be touching the ground himself to get a response from it; for the earth gave a shudder underfoot, reacting to his sudden panic with a violent tremor right in the area they needed one. Down below, Nameless took this as a sign to move and nudged Svilfon briefly with his snout before quickly evacuating the immediate area of the grey’s lair, Trebel still safe somewhere in the bag on his side. Something might have stirred in that cavern.
Svilfon ignores Kirien's concerned gaze entirely, already focusing on the spells to come. As he's nudged by Nameless the wizard spares the wyvern a brief pat on his head and a quietly murmured, "Fly fast, keep Trebel safe." Before his entire attention once again focuses on what he seeks to do. The tremble in the ground was the signal he needed, so with a whispered prayer to Lady Fortune the wizard enacts his layered spell with a brief gesture and quietly muttered chant. When done he snaps his head up and shouts through a voice layered with magic; it booms around the cliff-face like an oncoming avalanche, "Oi, you giant slug! It is I, Lazrahk the Dragon Slayer!" He raises his hands above his head, causing flickering trails of dancing fire to burn into sentient life around his body, before carrying on in his spell-enchanted voice "Two score and more of your kin have fallen to me!" That's how dragon slayers speak, isn't it? "You will be next! Come!" The final word is shouted even louder, and is more than just a simple challenge - it is drowning in magic that would insidiously weave into the female wyrm's mind, demanding she seek retribution from the foolish human who so insults her. "Face me!!!" He focuses further on his fires, letting them build until he is a flaring light beneath the towering waterfalls. His robes begin to smoulder, but this is entirely ignored as his focus remains on the cave mouth, where he can sense something stirring within... and it wasn't pleasant.
Wakefulness brings with it that insistent paranoia that has gnawed at the back of her mind since the night of the eggs' laying, nibbles worsening when four of the quintet clutch failed to grow further, and nibbles become crippling, bone-breaking bites when her mate had fallen hardly a week ago. And to fuel that toothy anxiety is now a voice bellowing outside her cavern, demanding she face his wrath. Dragon slayer..? Ochre eyes snap open and pupils shrink to mere slits as stony scales draw back over ivory fangs. Is this the one who'd slain her mate? Had he come for her? ...and her egg? A rumble not unlike the tremor whispering through the rocks builds within her chest, a roar of rage yearning to be born but quelled only by her apprehension. If he wants her egg, he'll have to go through she, the Gray called Ishataulak, but she won't be as foolish as her mate, facing a human head on out of vain pride and haughty disdain. No, she'll fight with all the wile of a mother. Svilfon very well may think the dragon isn't home, for the lack of response that comes from the cave and the drawn out silence he's met with. In fact, the only sound he'll hear is the earth continuing to rumble, mildly shaking the foundations of the cliff and sending small stones skittering down its sides. Aside from earthy groans, all is silent... that is, until the cliff-face violently erupts in a cascade of boulders, stony shrapnel, and nine tons of Gray Dragon bearing down upon the wizard with taloned feet splayed and wings tucked tight against her rugged form to help her tunnel easier, and now kept that way to maintain her falling speed. Now the beast allows her roar to live, a monstrous sound of wrath, sorrow, and defiance for the man that's taken the life of her beloved and now threatens her only remaining family, a sound with enough force behind it to uproot nearby plant life and flatten the human.
Eklenisec hisses ever so softly when that dragon bursts from the rock face. To think, she could have been sired by one of -those- ugly brutes. With the dragon engaging with the human, it's now time for her to set the fox down to grab his egg...and let go of her boobs. For the love of Vakmatharas. Down she swoops, aerial grace at its finest in her compact - at least, compact compared to a dragon - form. She doesn't land, however. Not at first. First she pries Kirien off her chest scales and unceremoniously drops him the remaining meter to the ground. -Then- she lands. "Get your egg. And be quick! We don't want that beast coming back to find us with its young." She looks over her shoulder at the cliff, at the line where her view disappears, where she can no longer see Svilfon. "Say hi to Vakmatharas for me, whichever of you dies."
Kirien would probably have rolled his eyes or maybe even laughed at Svilfon’s mad bravado had he not still been freaking out a bit, hovering high above the earth and holding tightly to-- well, what exactly was he holding of Eklenisec’s? Hands might’ve squeezed once or twice in curiosity while below the pair, the mountainside shuddered and exploded outwards in a sudden barrage of boulders, jagged shards and irate grey dragon; and it took the empath a moment to work out what exactly he’d grabbed onto in his panic. “Aha.” There was a sheepish grin to Eklenisec just before he was dropped in a rather rude and unceremonious manner to fall the short distance to the ground, landing in a crouch at the gaping mouth of the cavern the grey had burst out of moments previously. A second was spared in concern for Svilfon before he slipped into the shadow of the mountain and then further, slinking without sound into the dragon’s den in search of her precious clutch of eggs - or single egg. Either way, Kirien would be leaving here today with at least one of those rare eggs, or he’d be flattened trying. He tracked the soft heartbeat emanating from something nearby in the gloom, while all around him the cave trembled with the aftershock of the great Ishataulak’s attack on Svilfon.
Svilfon stands within the torrent of flames, letting them build to a level where even his own flesh begins to bubble and burn. The dragon wasn't coming, something was wrong... For just a moment his gaze shifts to his two comrades, hoping they are not foolish enough to just wander in and... His thoughts are interrupted by nine tones of furious dragon being born from the side of the cliff. "Sven's balls..." Is all he manages, before stones begin to smash through his fires, sending him hurling back with arms crossed before his face. Ever was the wizard loyal, though, he would not flee. He gets to his feet again and prepares himself to face the onslaught of tooth and claw, before that mighty roar whips around him, sending surging storms of dust granules rising up to challenge the sky above. Svilfon is sent flying backwards, his fires blown out faster than the candles on a birthday cake; but the wizard is sneaky, he has more tricks up his sleeves. As he lands again on the ground he relaxes his body and allows it to keep its momentum, sending him into one of the vast pools of sulphuric water that litter the area before the cliff-face. Battered and bruised, but far from beaten, he'd wait for as long as he could within the pool, hoping the dragon would be close, before he enacts his teleportation spell as violently as he can. It doesn't carry him far, though wisely it is further away from where his companions are; sodden and steaming he appears laying face down on the dirt. But it is nothing to the remnants of that sulphuric pool: It has erupted into a mighty torrent of vicious steam, its temperature far hotter than water's normal boiling point. It hisses and snaps as it surges into the air, hopefully hot enough to burn through the scales on the dragon's face, or at the least blind her long enough for the business to be complete...
A mass of muscle and ridged scales crashes into the earth where the wizard once stood, the entirety of the zone decimated into sheets of broken rock jutting in every direction from the impact. For a flicker of a moment the dragon pauses to check between her talons, eagerly searching for the blood and pulp of a former dragon slayer, but upon finding nothing but pebbles and dust she bellows out another roar of frustration. Her short--by dragon standards--neck swings left and right as a head as gray and pitted as an old stone carving seeks out her missing prey. There! A streak of dust and a splash. With all the grace of a stalking bear Ishataulak lumbers forward while the skin beneath her jaw flexes and bulges, an acrid scent rising from between her teeth. The Gray's talons sink deeper into the earth once she's reached the edge of the pool and her head draws back in preparation when out of the blue the water explodes upward in a torrent of boiling rage. She isn't even granted the time to screech out her surprise before she's buffeted square in the jaw by sulphur-rich water, sending her neck arcing backwards violently. Agonizing pain is instant as the heat sears the sensitive skin beneath her scales, and melts her left eye out of the socket. Svilfon's attack is completely successful, save for one drawback: the dragon head's sudden movement has released the breath weapon brewing within her maw. Where she had intended to spit a concentrated glob upon the dragon slayer, she's instead spewed out a wide-spread spray of the black ooze, the very air smoking from contact with the foul, paralytic substance. And the other drawback being that of a dragon in excruciating pain now thrashing blindly around, striking at boulders, trees, and air with claws, teeth, and tail, her head repeatedly slammed and scrapped against the ground to smother her burns in the mud surrounding the pool.
“Hurry. -Up-,” Kirien heard Eklenisec hiss from somewhere nearer the entrance to the grey’s half-hidden, cavernous dwelling, the dragon-kin’s eyes still fixed on the chaos below. “It’s going to absolute shit out here.” The empath himself was not paying too much attention to the battle ensuing outside, focusing on grabbing an egg and getting himself out of this sulphurous, acrid place as swiftly and as soundlessly as possible; and the news that things were perhaps not going too well was unsettling, if almost expected. They’d known the risks in coming out here, but he knew he’d feel utterly terrible if Svilfon was mortally injured due to all this mess. He did not respond to Eklenisec, moving even further into the cave with haste until he came upon it - the inner sanctum, where the main nest resided and that faint heartbeat pulsed out from. “Hey there~” murmured Kirien in a voice tinted with what could be construed as glee as he quickly approached the egg, a fingertip running over its grainy, rough surface once as though in greeting. At once he’d produced a sack from goodness knows where and was lifting and placing the egg carefully in it, tying off the top before the bag was slung over one shoulder and he headed for the exit. Eklenisec looked unhappy about the amount of time he’d taken, even if he’d not been that long at all, and was manhandling the vampire into a tight grasp as her wings unfurled some. “Watch what you’re grabbing or you might lose your hands. And for Vakmatharas’ sake don’t drop that egg or this will have been utterly pointless,” she growled, then took off without warning again, leaving Kirien to stuff the egg between their bodies and hang on for dear life as he once again lost all sense of perception. He could only hope that Svilfon would notice their quiet departure.
Svilfon feels something digging into his leg painfully, cutting into flesh that is bruised and bleeding already. Without letting free the painful groan that seeks to escape him, he reaches a hand down and pulls out the strange box Kirien gave him. Completely oblivious to what it is supposed to do, he's just about to hurl it aside when the dragon lets free her spraying breath; sending a rain of vicious paralytic liquid raining down in every direction. Kirien did mention to the wizard it would stop him being petrified, so thinking it a spell he waits for the last moment before pressing in the stud. He is both wrong, and rather unlucky. The shield snaps out from its enclosure violently, but instead of being made an umbrella against the dragon's rain, it strikes out to smash the deceased spell-caster in the face. He grunts his head is snaps brutally backwards, blood soon pouring from his mouth where lips were pushed through his fangs. With flying parrots being chased by winged goats floating around his vision, there is little Svil can do to stop the dragon's weapon falling onto his prone body. But his tattered robes retain some of their magic, and his hat is as mighty as ever. Most is expelled onto the ground beside him, though the amount that soaks through causes his undead body to grow dangerously stiff, bone-white stone slowly replacing flesh on the effected areas. But he will not yet be beaten! He drags himself again to his feet, blood pouring from his ruined mouth, his back barely able to stretch as stone insidiously eats into his body and with a disgruntled groan he kicks the shield. It snaps back to its original size, and though Svil would much rather leave it there - damned thing it is, he instead awkwardly kneels down and replaces it in the remnants of his robes. The dragon, still thrashing about, is eyed with an equal mixture of respect and fear. Before the wizard notices his comrades making their escape. Just a few more moments... With an exhausted tip of his hat to the saurian mother, the wizard extends both his hands towards her, palms out-stretched, and screams through the words of a simple spell. Before him grows a tiny fireball. It languidly dances on the air to the rhythm of the dragon's vicious thrashing, before Svil sends it hurling forward. It would snake and twist on the air, avoiding the flailing limbs of the beast, before seeking entry into her mouth. Whether or not it was successful it would be mere moments before the delayed fireball exploded violently, hopefully destroying the dragon once and for all...
Half-blinded the Gray may be and lost to rage and pain, but she's still a mother, and it's common knowledge mother's have eyes on the back of their heads. Thus, she doesn't miss that flicker of wings sweeping away from her cave. All thoughts of the dragon-slayer are lost then as Ishataulak's mind snaps into focus and she launches herself into the air with a shrill roar. Svilfon's fireball is disregarded as no more than a mere gnat as she frantically flaps toward the cavern, and even when it detonates against her firmly shut jaws and she's briefly knocked from the air, the dragon's remaining eye never leaves the gaping maw of her nest. The left side of her face may be a mess of broken scales, charred and melted flesh, and hints of bone beneath, but the pain is nothing compared to the fear writhing in the pit of her belly. Before talons touch upon the cliff, Ishataulak is plunging into the cave, limbs scrabbling for purchase while her body slithers forward to the resting place of her egg. Nothing. Dead air. Empty. All fight drains from the dragon at that sight and her massive frame crumples in on itself. Only her neck stays upright, her demolished jaws parting to birth a final sound before the thieves and their ears take even that from her. The roar is a shrill keen that pierces the ears of all those miles around, a shuddering sound filled with immeasurable pain, unending loss, and bitter mourning, the cry of a broken mate and defeated mother.
Eklenisec grumbles as she feels that egg between herself and the vampire. At least it will keep him from groping her again. Wings flap, and flap, and flap, distance put between the pair and the dragon, between themselves and the wizard. That keen puts a slight falter in her progress, a sudden dip as her wings halt momentarily. Being half dragon as she is, the lamenting sound brings some amount of pity into the draconian's heart, cold though it may be. "Vakmatharas damn it all to hell," she grumbles, putting it all behind her. Forward she goes, back towards...well...she'll ask Kirien exactly where they're supposed to set down when she needs to land.
Kirien looked back. It was pointless, as he saw nothing but the occasional echo of a strong wind rippling over his body, but he looked all the same, and frowned. That wail, unfathomably agonising, might have pulled at him some but he steeled himself, took a deep, unneeded breath inwards and let it out slow. Then, he called out. “Nameless!” A short, sharp whistle followed and a couple of seconds later the wyvern was soaring into view, falling into line alongside Eklenisec. Once or twice, Nameless glanced to the draconian before he’d manoeuvre himself underneath her, rising slowly, carefully until Kirien’s feet touched the harness strapped to his back and the empath blinked. “Ah. Thanks, by the way,” he’d say to Eklenisec before wiggling out of her hold to drop onto the wyvern’s back, the pair banking round suddenly. They weren’t about to leave Svilfon there, it seemed, despite it all. Rocketing over and around deadened trees, Nameless would flip upside down all of a sudden and this was the cue for Kirien to hold out his arms; and by virtue of his vampiric strength, he’d snatch the injured wizard up from the ground and spirit him away during that spin. Righting them out and with a beat of powerful wings, Nameless sped off across the landscape again, the echo of the fallen mother’s keening still ringing in Kirien’s ears as they joined Eklenisec again. The empath looked more focused on Svilfon though, as the man was thrown haphazardly across his lap, his back exposed and… “Shit. It got you.”
Svilfon is picked up from his spot on the ground by his comrade, but he is entirely oblivious to it all. He is lost in a sea of agony only made worse by the keening cry of the dragon who has lost it all. His hand left an indent in the dirt beneath him, a final futile gesture to stay and comfort the mighty grey dragon. Foolish, entirely, yet in her cry is filled with such undiluted sorrow it was impossible for him to do anything else. His strength is not enough, though, and soon enough he is draped over Kirien's knee while Nameless flies them back towards Frostmaw. He hears Kirien's question and replies in mushed tones, "Did you... hear it?" He spits blood over the side of the wyvern and painfully brings his hand up to tear his mashed lips from his pointed teeth. When he speaks again his voice is far clearer, "I told you not to come back for me, you bastard." A faint grin then, lost as it is to the ground below, before the wizard lapses into silence; contemplating his place in this all, and silently vowing to come back and put the dragon out of her misery.
Eklenisec stops her flight, looking back towards where Kirien heads, back towards the injured wizard. She shakes her head. As the wyvern carrying the both of them comes back towards her, she lets the creature go past her, go to where ever they're heading. She, on the other hand, waits for a time, until the pair will think she just went her own way. But no, she turns back. She goes back to that cave, to that mourning dragon. A suicidal move. The moment she alights in that cave, the dragon lets out a growl that could freeze even a demon's heart with terror. "Shut up," she snarls at the dragon who has just lost everything. She whispers to herself and power collects around her hand, the air within the cave chilling far beyond anything Frostmaw could put upon her citizens. The dragon's growl turns into a furious roar that this interloper is there -again-. But that roar turns into something far more pitiful, a yelp of pain, claws digging into the soft underbelly. Ice forms around those five wounds, spreading quickly over the dragon's body, six inches of rime coating that tender flesh as more floods through the dragon's veins. Those claws come out and Eklenisec takes her leave of the cave. Eerie silence follows her. "Like I said, Drake. Say hello to Vakmatharas." She'll catch up to Svilfon and Kirien eventually.
“Hear what.” Kirien’s jaw was decidedly tighter than usual, and he did not meet Svilfon’s eye. The egg had been shoved into another bag, one strapped to the opposite side of Nameless than the one Trebel was still safely tucked away in. Fingers clutched at the material of Svilfon’s robes, partly to make sure he did not slip off while the wyvern beneath them turned and swerved across the wasteland; partly for another reason, that Kirien would not speak of. “As if I was just gonna leave you there, idiot. Especially like-- like this,” the empath muttered, feeling the extent of the wizard’s petrified skin and inhaling sharply. The air tasted bitter. For a long while he was silent, until the land flowing beneath them had changed and morphed into more jagged shapes, mountains piercing the sky and blanketed here and there in cold, white clouds. It grew chillier, Frostmaw’s welcome to the group being a vicious snowstorm and icy temperatures. Nameless huffed, disgruntled. “I’ll-- take that out of you,” Kirien said to Svilfon finally, motioning with one hand to the damage on the man’s back as the winds buffeted them to and fro. It was the least he could do.
Svilfon barely hears Kirien's words as he begins to fade into unconsciousness, though he does manage a quiet, "Cut...it out…of me..." That was all the permission he'd be giving as he flees to the relative comfort of sleep; letting his desecrated body begin the process of healing itself... Let's just hope Kirien has food for them when they return, and a damn fine gift after all this trouble! - not that Svil would ask, of course. They are family, this is what they do.