RP:D&D - Darkness & Dragons

This is a Healer's Guild RP.

Summary: Thamalys summons Mythayus upon a urgent need of his for some Dragon's blood. The Scaly Blue answers timely enough, but upon the meeting of the two at the House of Ara, it becomes apparent the Dragon is deep into a very dark business indeed. And yet, the Spellblade appreciates the taste of revenge (especially when Dragons are actually involved), so that instead of trying to pull the Dragon away from his dark path, he ends up offering his (Thamalys') help for what seems to be a proper Dragon Hunt ahead. Meanwhile, a rather rare potion presently brewing on the Healer's desk sees completion after the considerate contribution of some Dragon's blood...

The feathery shape of Nebb would have eventually found the Scaly Blue, wherever the latter might have been. In perfect silence - for once - the massive Red Kite would have looked for the right hand of the Dragon, hoping to be offered a perch to sit upon. Whatever the outcome of his quest, the pesky bird would have proffered his right talon, a thin roll of parchment tightly secure onto it. If unravelled, it would have read as follows:

To the coveted attention of Scaly Blue Mythayus.

My friend, I shall confess I am in dire need of your help - a sort of help that can only be administered via a visit of yours to the House of Ara. You will find me there for the next three moons - I will be waiting for you, ask of me at the entrance and you shall be directed as once.

With the most grateful thanks,

Thamalys The Blue

Larket: House of Ara; Rebuilt

Mythayus would quickly make his way to the House of Ara. It didn’t that he was tired or still concerned about the conversation he had, had with Artia the prior night. He was going to be there for his friend. After all it was about time that he repaid his friend. He’d not take any chances and would be donned in his usually black spiked full-plate. His raven hair pulled back into a tight que, bang messily in his face as he was never able to tame them. He’d asked the receptionist or someone who looked to be incharge, for his dear friend. He would follow their instructions to find his friend, and after making to wrong turns and opening a wrong door, he’d make his entrance to where his friend was waiting for him. A winged snake rested quietly, coiled around the spikes of his right shoulder. “Thamalys, You sent for me? How are you my friend?” A warm smile on his face. To those that use shadow magic, it would feel like their energy was being pulled towards Myth, those that could sense magic, some dark energies could be felt coming from the dragon.

|| Mei || The frankly quite bewildering features of the Elfess were throughly resolved to get to the bottom of the inventory lying wide open on the massive desk right in front of her. Muttering something at the verge of being defined as nonsense, the White Haired One at least took care of directing the incoming Dragon toward the Winged Beast’s room.

Thamalys was perched on a rather tall stool, presently facing a whole array of vials, flasks and bottles, heterogeneously filled or not with an astonishing variety of colourful powders, greyish liquids and ominously crimson gels. A long, battered lab coat covered the whole of the Avian, much of his tattooed skin still visible, the mass of his awfully messy dreadlocks pulled behind his cranium into a massive ponytail that swayed between the very root of those monumental silvery wings, yet neatly furled. The whole of the equipment of the Spellblade was (not) aligned into an utterly chaotic arrangement which lacked any hint of symmetry. And yet, everything seemed to make sense for the Blue, bent upon a tiny vessel armed with a very long silver spoon and, in all fairness, a lot of patience. The same sentiment was - up to a certain extent - shared by Nebb, who limited himself to blink from a perch not so far away, at least until the Scaly Blue made came into sight. That very moment, the Kite let go of the loudest of the squawks, obviously startling the Spellblade. “For the love of the sodding…” he begun, for a miracle only able not to ruin the effort of a solid week of work by dropping the vial on the floor. And yet, whatever he was about to say, was annihilated by the realisation that the Dragon did answer his call - and quickly enough indeed. “Mythayus - I am so very grateful you made your way to the House so quickly. And, incidentally, it is good to see you indeed. I… have been better, but I shall not complain. What about you?” he went the Healer in one of the warmest tones he could produce, carefully placing said vial in a secure holder, raising from the stool, and proceeding to greet one of his dearest friends with a square handshake. Would that move been successful, chances are the Winged Beast would at the point became aware of the odd, blackish aura surrounding the Dragon.

Mythayus smiled as he watched his friend, and took in all the different bottles and vials. It had been awhile since he had admitted to the feathery one that he did in fact have a crush on the man. He could honestly say he still had one. The loud squawk would snap him back into focus. He was here because Thamalys needed his help. “It’s not an issue, my friend. I’m just happy I was in the area, so I could get here quickly.” He gave a slight laugh. “Been very busy the last week.” His voice was slightly off, it wasn’t as smooth as it usually is. It could easily be chopped up to him being tired. He is the Army Commander of Larket after all. Mythayus would gladly accept the hand shake of his friend. The dragon’s aura was hungry and centering from his right hip. Since the Avian has mended the dragon’s broken body multiple times, he know that there is an angry looking tribal tattoo resting on that hip. Could be nothing but it could be something. “You said you need my assistance with something. What might it be?” He would smile and go on as if he doesn’t even know or notice the dark energy coming off of him.

Thamalys betrayed nothing of that queer feeling that immediately filled his mind the very instant he managed to seized the hand of the Dragon. The Ageless Black himself, curiously silent the whole of that day, raised his spiky head and sharper thoughts while licking his fangs in a bit of an irritated fashion. || Even you must have been noticed that… || roared the Relentless Bastard, whom for once got back a positive response. || I did indeed, you sickening beast… now be quiet…|| offered the Blue in perfect silence still. For the moment, observing was probably the safest of the options, though, so that the Spellblade proceeded to explain. “Well, I need you help to finalise a most precious ointment I have been working on for quite a long time… this one in here, in fact…” begun the Healer, picking up that small vial and holding it up right in front of the eyes of the Scaly Blue. Two different liquids were clearly there, a viscous one, black, at the bottom, and some yellow one, much more fluid, swaying on top. “As you can see, the two main ingredients won’t mix… and this is because… well, because I am missing a very important details. Dragon blood, that is. Not the awful stuff you can get in those so-called shop… I would need some freshly… that is, freshly harvested, if you are following me. I know this is asking you a lot, my friend…” he would have continued, his tone softening a bit, his eyes nailed into those of he-who-was-not-a-man standing before him, “… but I will ask anyway. A few drops will suffice…” he sort of pleaded, canting his head toward the left much a pesky bird would do when asking for one more breadcrumb.

Mythayus offered the man a smile followed by a laugh, “I follow you. I don’t mind. You aren’t the first to ask for my blood. You certainly are one of the nicer requests for my blood, I must say.” He watched the two liquids in amusement. “ What is this ointments purpose?” As he finished that sentence and before he or anyone else could utter another word, from a shadow on the back wall of the room would come a raspy, voice, follow by the form of an emaciated panther with three sets of legs, and two pairs of long spiked and suction cups tendrils coming from it’s back. The beast had freshish wounds on it’s perhaps made a few days old, the appeared to be from the maul of a dragon, to small to be Mythayus’s. The beasts blackish-purple fur made it difficult to see the full extent of the wounds. The beast spoke, “pliso, si mi bivai, shar si tepoha woari jacida donoap. (Master, I am sorry, but I have lost his path.)” Mythayus’s smile would fade. For the first time Thamalys would see him get beyond angry, and in a very uncharacteristic voice he’d respond to the creature, “hak itrewic wer vrant. si geou ti tolerate nomeno de wux. ehtah jacion. jaci zklaen qe sini, jaka. jaci zklaen xikin ihk svabol jaci tepohaic authot. jaka itrewic ekik di sia toma vur ehtah jacion vur jacida aesthyr. (then get the pack. i will not tolerate this from you. find him. he must be mine, now. he must pay for what he has done. now get out of my sight and find him and his woman.)” It was almost a growl. The dark energy clearly rose as he spoke those words. He take in a deep breath once the creature quickly retreated back into the shadown inwhich it had come. Upon exhaling the breath it came out as a low growl. He closed his eyes for a brief moment regaining control over himself. His Mythayus smile was back. "Sorry about that. I having a little trouble."

Thamalys bowed only a little, genuinely relived to hear the Scaly Blue’s consensus. “Ah, this is an interesting one… just one drop on anyone’s skin, and the whole of the latter will instantly became pitch black. Used to be quite a thing for assassins and the like not so long ago…” he would have probably went on, but the voice of the Spellblade faded away, the moment the ominous feline materialised from the very shadows. For a split second, the Avian sort of expected Valen to follow, but it quickly became quite clear that the author of that magic was to be found in the Dragon alone. That wounds, the Healers would have recognised immediately - those words, (un)luckily enough, the Ageless Black clarified for the Winged Beast as if the two were in fact sharing a single mind, which was at least in this very case, a scenario rather close to the truth. As a result, the Feathery Blue briskly put the vial away, sidestepping as to shield his workbench from the Scaly One. Golden streaks were building rapidly into the otherwise perfectly blue eyes of the Spellblade, who clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes as if victim of some sort of treachery. “You could have let him stay, Mythayus… of all places, this is the one when wounds like those could be mended in the blink of an eye… since when, I wonder, you ceased to care for your companions? Also…” he went on, a cruel snarl surfacing on that bony face, “who is it that you are so desperate to find? So hopeless you seem in fact, that you are literally dripping shadows from your flesh? A little trouble, you say… I say there is something in you I do not recognise… did somebody cast a spell on you, maybe?” he concluded, suddenly trying to grab the face of the dragon with his (Thamalys’, that is) right hand, attempting to force the gaze of the Scaly One to confront that of the Winged Beast. That blood could have waited - but an angry Mythayus happily resorting to shadow magic while mistreating his beloved feline… that was a whole new level of an issue to be taken care of.

Mythayus looked down almost searching for something. Perhaps the answers. He also hated seeing that he had upset his friend. “Ari will be fine. He and I have both suffered worse….” He paused, maybe Thamalys was speaking the truth… Had he been cruel to Ari, his beloved friend. The one creature who had been through everything with him. How could he send him off without even thinking about his safety. He let his mind become so clouded. The Avian would easily beable to take the dragons face in his hand. “I do care for Ari.” He’d close his eyes almost in pain. This voice coming from the dragon, wasn’t the dragons but someone else speaking through the dragon. “No Spell, Just a binding that he’s finally cashing in on our deal. He’d give me some his compassion, so I could keep my humanity, and he in return would get all the power he needs to vanquish his foes. The person must have really angered my brother.” He voice would give a wicked high pitched laugh. “I can’t wait to see this unfold.” Myth would place a hand on his right as if it was in pain. “A dragon, Thamalys. The dragon that kidnapped my Sia itov (my love) from me. Tortured her, beat and battered her, and now she continually goes back and forth me. Because it was a dragon that hurt her and I am a dragon.” His eye were in a continual shift between his vivid blue humanoid eyes and his vicious yellow serphantine ones.

Thamalys nodded slowly enough at the remark of the Scaly Blue. “Aye… I know you do care…” he simply commented. Whatever was taking place within the Dragon, the Avian could have told that most of the creature he knew was still squarely there - albeit devoured by something so obscure he barely dared to inquire further. And after all, he did not even need to, as that alien voice carved his way through Mythayus’ lips. “Who in the name of The Wind are you bringing within you, my friend? Speak now, and with no fears, as - however unlikely you may think it is - I believe I can understand at least some shades of your pain…” he went, never abandoning the gaze of the Dragon, no matter the dreadful comment the Spellblade just heard. But then, a thorough explanation eventually came in. To which, the Winged Beast let go of the Scaly Blue’s face, soon after making his way, step after step, almost painfully, to a chest of drawers adjacent to the working bench. In utter silence, the Healer bent and opened said drawer, producing swiftly enough an elongated bottle filled with an almost transparent liquid. Plus, two glasses, which he promptly filled generously, one of them offering to the Dragon in front of him. “Names, my friend. That is all I need, and you know I will then follow you down to the deepest pits of hell - to make the Scaly Bastard suffer till he doesn’t even remember his bloody name. Drink with me…” he continued, the hand offering the glass enveloped already into the thinnest layer of liquid blue fire. || We’re going on a Dragon hunt, are we not, you Silly? And guess what… it’s not even me you’ll be trying to end - how hilarious… || chuckled the Ageless Black. A couple of steps away, Nebb sealed that very moment with a swooping motion of those powerful wings.

Mythayus nodded, “Names…” He looked down trying to figure out a specific name. It was clear he was having a hard time remembering a name. He’d nod to the avian and accept the drink, “What is it?” He’d ask before taking a sip. “I know the dragon’s name, but not the females. She is with him a lot. Artia may know her name. and Ari might as well with as much time as he’s spent following the dragon. The Dragon’s name is Kristos.” He eyes would focus on Thamalys, and they would darken and shift into his serphantine yellow ones only part of them able to be sent is the vibrant yellow almost glowing. “Death is to good for him…..He must be broken and perhaps even owned, for what he has done.” A wicked grin would start to twist the man’s face, before he’d closes his eyes and shake his head. His vivid blues would be back. “He hurt her badly Tham….” He’d look to the shadows and speak, “ari confn spical, si rigluin ekess tepoha vi lex mrith wux. (Ari come back, I need to have a word with you.)” A few moments later the beast would in fact return from the shadows, “pliso? kii tepoha ekess tor ihk ve spical? si zklaen ehtah wer darastrix. (Master? Why have to ask for me back? I must find the dragon.)” The bast stood with a confused look on his face. Now that he was standing still the age on the beast could easily be seen. Also the Lame middle right leg resting against the ground. He way for Myth to respond. Myth would take in a deep breath, “Ari, I’m sorry for how I treated you. But I called you back because I need the name of the woman that helped Kristos kidnap Artia.” Ari wou sit and think for a moment and shake his head. Myth would let out a sigh, “Thank you. Ari.”

Thamalys managed to put together something not to dissimilar from a proper smile. “An old recipe I found in a an old book…” the one book, in fact, the Wintry Lady gave him the first day the Spellblade set foot into Ara. Before the battle, before the quake… felt like ages ago to the Winged Beast. “It’s a liquor distilled from larch cones - strong enough for a Dragon, aye?” he went to inquire, perfectly knowing that the liquid in question managed to knock down even a sturdy dwarf. “Kristos… noted, my friend. Never heard of him, but that doesn’t matter - at all. So…” he went on, sitting once more on the tall stool while offering with ample gesture a similar one to the Dragon - who looked nervous enough to refuse, but it was worth a try. “What do you have in mind, then? Hopefully something not relying entirely upon shadows, I shall hope? You do not need darkness to break that bastard… ah, I can only imagine your rage, your frustration, your will to just tear him to pieces… but I would caution you, my friend… it is still a Dragon you are talking about - one that not even Ari apparently can find. Take a sip, Mythayus… it will help, on my word I swear it will…” and he meant it. Yes, it was a liquor made of larch, but the Spellblade may or may not have added a number of soothing ingredient, just what is needed for numbing the pain of minor surgeries - for men. For Dragons and Avians… probably the effect of a very strong chamomile.

Mythayus would give a nod listening to his friend. “An old recipe, made from larch cones…. Can say that I’ve ever had it. “ He’d take another sip from the glass. “Of course.” Mythayus would shake his head. “My plan is to use the shadows as protection, from the dragon’s shadows. And If I don’t have to use them then I wont. I merely want that safeguard there. My plan is to hopefully use words and a dragon’s bane laced whiskey to knock him out.” He was a dragon hunter, of course he hasn’t hunted a dragon in sometime now but he knows there weaknesses. “Then put my own collar on him. Let him know how it feels to be owned. And of course return every blow he did to her ten fold.” He’d take another swig of the liquid, calming down a bit. He would after telling his plan take a seat. Ari would look between the two and start to walk back into the shadows.

Thamalys wolfed down a liberal mouthful of the liquor himself, pondering the answer of the Scaly One. “Well, it does sound like a plan… what sort of Dragon would this awful creature be? More importantly… are you determined to embark into this quest alone - with the sole help of Ari, maybe? You know you can count on me, right? And I am quite confident Macon - oh, wait… “King” Macon, is it?” he would have carried on with a sort of a sneer, “… he would not necessarily care about a cohort or two of elite Larketian soldiers being assigned on a quest at the orders of none other than you… after all, you are in command, aye?” He would a paused an instant, then, to recover the vial that originated that very encounter in the first place. “In the meantime… may I?” enquired the Healer, the vessel in one hand, a sharp, thin, silvery blade carved with countless motifs of tiny leaves in the other one, sort of hinting at the left hand of the Dragon - whose blood he still needed, but at this stage, it was not without a shadow of a doubt that the Spellblade would have approached this darker version of the Scaly One. Whether or not the Draconic Blue would have agreed to that donation or not, the Spellblade would have went on, relentlessly. “And… I take you don’t actually know where Kristos is presently hiding, do you? By the Wind, if even Ari cannot find him…”

Mythayus would give a snort, “The King not your favorite person?” He’d give a nod, “Yes I am. But I’d rather not involve the Larket army.” He’d look to his friend, “I know I can always count on you and Ari and my brother.” He’d rub his right hip at the mention of the later. “The dragon is a shadow dragon from my understanding, he can summon elementals and relies on chaos.” Mythayus would offer Thamalys his right hand as he is left handed and doesn’t want a small cut to hinder him. As they say the smaller the cut the more painful it is. “Go right ahead my friend. Take what you need.” He’d give he man a warm smile. “I didn’t answer the question. If you want to help I wont say no. I just dont want you getting hurt on my behalf.”

Thamalys grumbled something quite meaningless, a moment before seizing the hand of the Scaly One and, with a sharp cut, opening up the very vein running through the wrist of his friend. A calculated incision, precise enough for a steady, if maybe alarmingly merry, bleeding to blossom and drip down into the small vial. One, two, three… twelve whole droplets the Healer numbered, before letting go of the blade and running the index finger of his right hand upon said cut. Less than an instant, and the flaming ink of the Spellblade would have sealed the wound, letting not even the most remote trace of a scar. “Thank you, my friend. Much appreciated indeed…” he acknowledge, helping up the vial, through which the sunlight got through to highlight the spiralling vortex just forming. “Such an amazing creature you are…” he wondered aloud the Winged Beast, now witnessing the blood of his friend mingling into the potion with superb precision - what a magnificent feeling. “Getting hurt, aye?” he playfully rebuked the Avian once he lovingly put back the vial on the workbench, getting instead a rug and polishing the blade. “There is always a price to be paid when it comes down to revenge - and yet, it is the strongest of the urges. Fighting it is futile. Better instead to set the mind upon the task ahead - like my kind and yours do. Whatever it’ll come out of it, there would be no regret. Just blood. And, if this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together, my friend. Off, off you go, now…” he would have gently rebuked him. “I do not know when exactly you plan to go Dragon hunting, but there are things to be settled, and people to be warned before I can manage to leave… I am sure you of all creatures will understand. Send me a notice, if and when you shall see fit. Or Ari, even, but not out of bloody nowhere, please… I don’t trust shadows - never had.” || Is it his revenge, then? Or is you instead, your desperate will to end of all us… || inquired the Black to top things up. || Not all of you, o’ bastard. Just the evil ones that lurks in the sodding shadows… those, I will purge from Lythridel one by one… and yes, you are well within that number… now be silent… ||

Mythayus would nod, “ no shadows to send you messages got it.” He laughed, he had seemed to have gotten the darkness back under control inside him though his aura was still dark. “I’ll send Oenomuas or Bastion here.” He’d motion to the winged snake on his shoulder right shoulder. “I’ll keep you informed my dear friend, if you need help with anything else let me know. I’d be glad to assist.” He’d allow imself to be shooed after he did need to go check on Artia. “Until we met again.”

This RP is linked to: RP:Afterglow