RP:Equipped To Defend

From HollowWiki

Part of the The Dawn of a New Era Arc


Summary: Neferet receives a letter from Brynhild asking to meet her at the place where they first crossed paths, weeks prior. The two enter the Red's domain, and she rummages through her treasures, before handing the White an item of significance. It's an ice-enchanted staff that belonged to a powerful mage, centuries before, and it's of extreme value. Bryn also finds some armor that will be useful in the coming days, as the duo works to gather other dragon's to their cause.


Brynhild had finally traversed through the lands enough to have a basic understanding of the things that were going on in most of the countries. Some semblance of understanding over the saurian races which had been nearly wiped out over the ages. Now, she had gathered a plan, and made her very first alliance with Neferet; a particularly lonely white dragon with daddy issues. Great. What had she just gotten herself into? Regardless, Brynhild finds herself impatiently waiting for the white dragon to show up as her letter, and snack who delivered it, had suggested. Once Neferet arrives, she would find Brynhild, dressed in rather casual clothing, granting the blonde haired maiden enough warmth to tolerate the mountains climate. The red hated the cold, but would soon drag the other dragon into a different domain, where their plans could gain a boost. Her gallant steed lies to the far end of this open chamber, tied off to a mining cart which had been abandoned. This ‘noble’ creature didn’t seem to mind in the slightest and Brynhild was happy to have her keister off of it. Who was really the beast of burden here? Cerulean eyes now shift to the crater that Brynhild had previously made in her awakening - tapping her foot silently; her impatience is absolutely showing.


Neferet received a letter, which alone had her on edge. No one had wrote to her in well over a decade, and her suspicion showed. After snapping the courier’s neck, she crunched on his bones, and mulled over what could be in the letter. It all tasted funny to the white. The courier. The letter. The downfall of the saurian empire. The blonde she had sworn her alliance towards a few days prior. The parchment is left untouched, for several hours, until she’s good and ready to shift into her human form. In the nude, she sunk in the snow, tore open the blood splattered letter, and read to her heart’s content. It was from Brynhild, the red dragon that she fondly called ‘Cherry’ and she was requesting a meet up. How grand! She wanted to meet where she had uprooted the earth and had caused a merchant to get murdered. Neferet makes haste, knowing that all the time she had spent dwelling over what the letter may have contained, had delayed their meeting. She doesn’t even have time to don her armor, as she tugs on a pair of tweed pants, a tunic, a fur vest, and knee-high boots. It’s simple, fashionable, and would keep her warm enough for the journey down the mountain. Eventually she arrives, having followed the stench of the horse, along with the memory of the location, and she lofts a brow as she sees Bryn tapping her foot. “I’m sorry. I was delayed. Were you waiting long?” Not that she cared if she caused the other to wait, but she’s making a real effort to be civil, and it shows, as she feigns a small smile.


Brynhild turns her gaze to the alabaster haired, disguised dragon. She wondered what this other looked like in her true form, but this is only a passing thought. It was good, she realized, to be past the whole ‘follow me or else’ stage. Even if nothing had been done yet with their alliance. All things to come in time Brynhild, she chides herself. In time. She was far too impatient with such things, but knows when to calm her own nerves - none of these inner thoughts however, break through the ever stoic features of this warrioress. “Glad to see you’ve made it Neferet.” She offers a coy smile, shattering the void of emotions upon her visage, wholly ignoring the wait she forced upon her. Now was the time to gather what little means the duo had or rather, what Brynhild had. “No, not too terribly long.” Her response is more of a whisper, laced with her general impatient nature. Neferet knew what she had done, and didn’t need any further words over such things. Nor did Brynhild need an apology. She knew the white was a loner, and most likely fighting with her own nature to even arrive. “Shall we enter my old domain?” She points a gloved hand into the crater, the area of which she’s referring too. “There are a few things down there which we could both use.”


Neferet continues to eye the horse as it dares to neigh at her, those blue hues widening in surprise. Was it trying to speak? “Listen, you equine beastling! I don’t speak horse. But you better keep your opinions to yourself, before I break each of those boney legs and use them as toothpicks!” Her words are a hiss, her anger steadily rising as the steed has the audacity to stomp the ground with his hooves. Was that some sort of gang sign? Did he wish to duel? Neferet had never encountered any farm beasts in her homeland, and having spent the past decade in the frozen wilderness, the closest animal that came to mind was a deer. Never before had a deer raised his voice to her, yet this horse seemed to have plenty to say! It’s a foreign animal, and though she doesn’t understand its purpose, she chooses to instantly dislike it, rather than shrivel in fear, or accept that it’s a method of transportation. To think some kept them as companions just may send her into a frenzy! Bryn is carrying on about how she didn’t have to wait all that long, and thanking her for arriving, although it’s been well over an hour after the suggested time. Neferet is nearly ignoring her, as the horse continues its strange habits, which happens to be bobbing its head eagerly up and down. Was it having some sort of seizure? The White snaps to attention once she sees the Red pointing into the hole, and she hesitates before replying, as though weighing her options. She wasn’t one to dwell beneath the earth, and even when hibernating, she would go into a frozen cavern. She had sworn to obey Brynhild, right? “Okay. You first. And leave that –thing- tied to the cart. I’ve about had enough of his antics.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she waits for the blonde to lead the way, uncertainty in her gaze. What, of use, could possibly be down there?!


Brynhild gives one last look to Neferet and her response, “Where we are going, there’s no need for a horse.” Without further word she steps straight out into the void over the chasm. Most would be terrified of the descent, which seems to go on further than the eye can make out. The temperature seems to climb, more and more as she falls into her ancient domain, which she had chosen to hibernate within. Finally, her robes flipping madly about from the torrent of wind, she extends both hands out - opening her frame up. In an instant, red leathery and scaled wings burst forth from her back, catching the air and halting her free fall just before impact; where her feet place themselves gently upon the ground. Those wings tuck themselves behind her back, like any avians would and she steps forward into the chasm that she has called home for eons. Beyond the bubbling pit of lava directly to her left, there is a sizable pile of gathered horde; gold, weapons and other items. “Welcome,” she turns her gaze to Neferet assuming that she had indeed followed. Sure the other might find herself in an unpleasant atmosphere but this was home to Brynhild. The cave itself is massive, larger than even she needs. “There’s a couple of things down here, that I thought might be of use. Give me just a moment and I’ll gather them. I believe I have something that even you can use.” She steps towards the pile of items without a word, and then realizes she’s not even sure what Neferet would use. “You a mage or do you prefer melee?” Her question is not laced, and she begins to dig looking for a few things in specific.


Neferet doesn’t hesitate once Bryn steps into the hole and freefalls to her destination. She wasn’t one to have her bluff called, nor would she ever back down from a dare of any sort, so the white is on her heels in a matter of seconds. Her boots feel nothing more than air beneath them, and though she dislikes shifting completely in public, they were heading underground. The draconian form is called upon, as thick leathery wings magically sprout from Nef’s back. Three successive flaps are given as speed is gained, and give a glimpse to how majestic the white dragon truly is, when in her true form. Snow white scales look as though they’re tinged in icicles, as with every movement a silver flicker is emitted, reflecting against the cavern walls, as though coated in diamond dust. Once the ground comes into view, that silvery tail shifts to act as a buffer, to slow the descent, and the mallet tip collides against the earth, before Nef’s boots hit. Tucking her wings against her back, the material of her shirt magically repairs any tears, having been perfectly designed to adjust to the woman’s need to transform at any given moment. Despite having wings, a tail, and a faint outline of scales on her flesh, she appears to be mostly human. Taking in the horde, the area in which Bryn hibernated, the cryomancer paces back and forth, eyeing each item with newfound interest. She had never been inside of another dragon’s domain, aside from her brothers, and that was on the eve that she had slain him in his sleep. Tucking an errant alabaster strand behind her ear, she turns to catch sight of Bryn bent over and rummaging through a pile of items. “If you haven’t guessed by now… I am a mage. I have advanced expertise in ice magic…” She’s being rather humble in the way she describes her gift, though if she were to ever perform before the other, she’d see that Nef was incredibly talented.


Brynhild is still digging through her pile of treasure gathered over various times of conquest with her old brood. Things that she not only claimed, but fought over with others. These were all decidedly the spoils of war, but as luck would have it, she latches on to an item Neferet might indeed find useful; just as she makes mention of her abilities. What a coincidence. Though she hated to part with such a treasure, it was for the good of her own alliance and this relic might just further solidify their partnership. She stands straight up and looks to Neferet with a serious gaze; she was fighting her own nature to even hand this item over. The item in question is an interesting artifact from an ancient sect of mages who had aligned with the dwarves in the previous wars. This particular item was held by one particularly nasty man who called himself Durnham. It’s unmistakably a staff, but it is not made of the usual materials. Instead it seems to have been a magically crafted piece of metal, imbued with the blood and power of ancient beings; its make is an amalgamation of mithril and adamantium with patterns appearing near damascus. Atop the smooth straight shaft of this weapon of eons gone by is a series of three blue crystals, held fast in place by the same material as the staff. She hands the item over, having no idea of just what she’s giving up. “Luckily for you, it belonged to an ice mage from some time ago. His name was Durnham, and had this particular item created over several years. You’ll never find a twin.” It’s truly one of a kind, and would hum with latent power within Neferet's grasp. “If you’re with me, I’ll be sure to have you well armed.” Brynhild only gives her a nod once it’s taken and turns back to her pile.


Neferet II Silence fills the air once the ice enchanted staff is placed into the white’s outstretched arms. It’s cradled lovingly, as a mother would hold her newborn, with extreme care, and an expression of sheer admiration. Neferet is in awe, a rare bead of sweat appearing above her brow, as her lower lip is pulled into her mouth and she finds that she’s suddenly speechless. Silken wings uncurl as her nerves are on edge, only to tuck back against her spine, and the staff soothingly hums in her hands, as though speaking to its rightful owner. Durnham may have possessed the staff long before anyone else, though it’s now choosing Neferet to wield its powers, much like how Brynhild chose to pass it to her ally. Each crystal is studied, mirroring the blue in Nef’s eyes, and she tenderly touches each one, feeling the immense power that was held within the metal. She can sense the blood that was used to craft the weapon, and it senses her own blood, as it continues to vibrate within her grasp. “Thank you, Brynhild. It’s a fine weapon, and I will make good use of it.” Before now, she had relief on a trusty frost bow, or her dragon form, as a means of defense. Combining her powers with this tool would magnify her ice magic, and she can’t wait to test it out on an unsuspecting foe. She senses that Bryn has difficulty parting with the staff, and Neferet can understand why, as dragons were reluctant to part with their prized possessions, and she hardly knew the woman. “And you, Bryn? Do you prefer melee or magic?” She’s almost certain that the Red preferred melee, though it didn’t hurt to ask.


Brynhild still finds herself digging through her pile until she finds every last item she needs. In a pile to the side of her is a suit of mithril armor, a shield of the same make, a rather large ice enchanted bastard sword, an odd, rather sharp light spear, and a damascus arming sword. Finally she climbs out of the pile, and strips, readying herself to don these items; which should answer her question without words. Neferet had seen her like this once before and she cared little if she saw it again. “Neferet, I prepare to take life with the physical strength that I posses in all of my forms. Whether by spear, sword, tooth or claw.” She lofts a brow and gives Popsicle a glance. “Its suits me better, and I’ve never been one to cast spells.” Beyond her own ability to shape shift and use breath weapons. These two were truly opposites, in every way. One of ice, the other of fire. One a mage, the other a warrior, but both now stood fast together in an alliance of sorts. Without any other word, she equips those items and prepares to leave. “If I have need for anything else I shall return here once more. But for now, this was the entire purpose. Shall we?” She waits for Neferet’s response and then gives a massive thrust of her wings; throwing the dragoness back up into the air. When she finally reaches the top, she waits for Neferet to escape that hellish domain, for what comes next wouldn’t be safe with her still inside. She alters her form once more, shifting into a draconian and hitting the rocks around the chasm with her breath weapon. Once this is complete and the rocks are hot enough, she stomps the edge with her foot, creating a small landslide which falls into the cave and seals the entrance from others. She was very protective of her home.


Neferet doesn’t comment as Brynhild sheds her clothing and equips the armor, though her hues do trail over the others figure. She was beautiful to gaze upon, and she hopes that she won’t be caught staring. Not that anything would come of it, as the White didn’t believe in anything as folly as romance. Love was nothing more than a myth, and her race was incapable of feeling any sort of cardiac warmth. It was rare to form an attachment to another, though seeking pleasure did come in spurts, from time to time. Finally, Bryn is clad in mithril, and she’s going through an array of weapons, in a separate pile. Nef clutches the staff and glances around the cave once more, the bubbling pool of lava too close for comfort. Even with her cryomancer abilities, she wasn’t certain they’d be as effective in this environment. “I prefer to use my magic, though I can hold my own in a fight.” Hopefully, Bryn would never be on the receiving end and find out just how feral the White became when enraged. The horse above ground may witness that one day, if he continued to bewilder the woman! After having completed their mission, the two flutter upwards and land on the ground in their draconian forms. Nef remains silent as Cherry works on sealing the entrance and making certain her treasures remain untouched. She couldn’t blame her, as she did much the same, though her home and her horde were two very different places. “I must be going, Bryn. But… Thank you for this staff. I will cherish it in the rest of my days, and it will aide us in our efforts.” Turning to leave, Nef pauses, and glances over her shoulder with a half-smile on her face, “You’re alright, Cherry, you know that?”