# The Age of Dragons.(Action Thread)



## revan4559

After a long and rather uneventful journey you make it to High Dragon Hold, a specific place within the northern parts of the Kel'Karadorn mountains which is the supposed location of the strange and legendary figure known as High Lord Modeus, the first of the Dragon Riders. After having received a rather cryptic offer to become his apprentice when you met The High Lord you decided to accept it as he had saved your life. Having made you way to the location he told you to go to, you stand ready and uncertain what this apprenticeship will entail and if you have made the right choice, only by learning from the High Lord will you be-able to make that decision. You slowly make your way down the small dirt road towards the mountain and as you get closer and closer you can see that the mountain itself has been build on and into, at certain places high towers appear to pierce the sky, ledges have been transformed into gardens and training area's. To the west of the mountain is a rather large looking forest which must be where who ever lives inside of the Mountain gathers their food.

As you follow the dirt road you can see something at the foot of the mountain, from a distance it appears to be something small and gleaming but as you get close the object becomes larger until you can clearly see that it is infact not an object at all, but two monstrously large steel doors at the top of a winding stair case. Standing either side of the doors are two fully armoured rather gruff looking dwarves who stare at you as you approach and from under head you can hear the screech's and roars of a creature you hoped you'd never see again, Dragons. Becoming filled with fear at the sight of these creatures you freeze where you are standing and can not draw your gaze from them until a ear shattering crack is heard as the large gates open and a short black bearded rather old looking dwarf greets you and ushers you inside. Once inside you feel slightly safer about not being out in the open as the dragon's may have stopped you but you still feel uneasy about having such dangerous creatures so close to where you are. As you eyes adjust to the low light within the mountain you can clearly see the inside of the mountain has been carved smooth and made into a luxurious home. Upon the walls you can see many paintings and tapestries of dwarves, dragons and even High Lord Modeus, clearly you have come to the right place. The dwarf leading you through the halls introduces himself as Grungar the Ironfist, leader of the dwarven clan of the Ironhammers who are in service to the High Lord. 

Being lead through the mountain you legs start to ache as you feel like you have been walking for miles and miles inside this dwarven hold and without the sun you are unable to tell how much time has passed since you entered. Suddenly you come upon another set of large doors made of a different type of metal which Grungar taps on three times before they open, as the doors open you can see into a extremely well lit magnificent hall which is filled with tables, chairs and dwarves rushing around with boxes, barrels and creates of food and ale. All around the side of the hall are many smaller doors than the ones you have seen so far which look around average size to what the elves use in their buildings, and much like the first part of the mountain you saw the walls are filled with paintings and tapestries. As you admire the workmanship of the hall and the paintings Grungar taps you on the side and points at the far end of the hall, shifting you gaze to see what he is pointing at you can see a gathering of humans, elves and dwarves all talking to a figure. 

As one of the elves bows before the figure infront of the group you can see that it is infact High Lord Modeus and feeling stupid for not seeing it earlier, right next to Modeus if the awe inspiring form of his Black Dragon, sat in a rather feline position and watching the group that has been gathered. Grungar then tells you that you should go and join the group as The High Lord has something very important to tell you that will answer all of your questions. Walking shakily and nervously over to the group you can hear the last few words of The High Lords sentence: "_...and within these halls you are to be on your best behavior and treat the Ironhammer clan with the up most respect, is that understood?"_ With a murmur of replies the Dark Elf gives a small smile. _"Now then i shall explain fully why i have brought you here. As you all know when i met each of you in turn i asked you to become my apprentice, and i know you are all wondering what kind of apprentice you will be."_ With an even bigger smile on his face the High Lord finally tells you something that makes your heart stop in your chest. _"You are going to learn how to be Dragon Riders, you will become the greatest warriors this world has seen and save it from the darkness that threatens to consume this world with the help of *your very own dragons*. In a few moments i shall take you to the egg room where you shall pick a dragon egg which will eventually hatch into your dragon, and when it does your dragon will be your life long companion. Now let me tell you this, this will not be an easy path to follow and i will not be there to lead you by the nose the entire time, you all must learn in ten years what has taken me one hundred and fifty. If you believe yourself to be up for the challenge then follow me, if not then Grungar will lead you out and you may go on with your lives." _With that Modeus nods to his massive black dragons which stands up and leaves through a different set of massive doors. 

After watching the amazing black dragon leave you notice that High Lord Modeus has walk to one of the other hallways, quickly running to catch up with The High Lord you fall into step behind him and are quickly joined by the rest of the group as you are lead down the long and semi-lit passages of this strange and wonderful place. ​ 
ALL: This High Lord Modeus is a legendary figure who is renowned all over the world for having tamed a dragon and now uses it in battle and soon you shall do the same. What are you currently feeling about being an apprentice dragon rider? Are you scared and nervous? excited about the possibilities it could open and all the fame that will come with it? You wonder what kind of dragon you will get and what it will be like to have such a creature as your companion, maybe you should try and pluck up the courage to ask The High Lord about the dragons, and how he plans to train you? But first it may be wise to ask the names of your fellow apprentices as it may help to make friends here as the apprenticeship sounds like it could be hard to face alone.

OOC: using the info i gave you(i hope its enough) i would like you to type out how your character is feeling, what he is mainly thinking about now, and try to get to know the other dragon riders. I'll update this thread next friday(the 19th) but after that it will become a Monday thread.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat whistled as he walked. The road was better than many he had traveled. He looked in amazement at the mountainside, and the fortress that had been carved into it. “These dwarves must be very capable,” he said quietly as he pulled something from his pack. It was a fruit he had learned of from a farmer years ago. They had called it a muscadine. Much like an overly thick skinned grape they were sweet. He squeezed the first into his mouth, then spit the seed into his hand. After enjoying the first one he chewed on the bitter skin, and remembered what the farmer had told him, “Waste not”. He only had about two handfuls left. Uthiat wondered if any of the local farmers would know about them. There was a doubt as he was sure they didn’t grow natural here.

Finally the elf began to approach the massive doors. It was then he heard the cry, dragons. His eyes darted across the mountain, and then to the forest nearby. How many were there? As he stood for some time watching the creatures. What brought him back was the sound of the massive doors opening. The guards seemed not to mind, maybe it was okay Uthiat thought as a dwarf moved to greet him. It wasn’t until he moved through the doors that he finally felt safe. The workmanship inside was rather good as well. There were several tapestries hanging like he would expect from any noble. Finally he saw a picture of the dark elf, Modeus. As he did Uthiat smiled it had to be the right place. This place intrigued him. The tapestries and paintings appeared to be from several origins. One appeared to be a style from the south, most likely human made; another was plainly dwarfish by origin; and another appeared to be elfish design. If Modeus was the great figure that legend said then he must travel often. What might he have that Uthiat had never seen? “Does the Lord travel often,” he asked. The dwarf, who had introduced himself as Grungar, scratched his beard. “Aye,” he said, “Has to get his pets somewhere.” “Pets,” the elf asked. The only reply he got was a smile, “Come with me. You can ask him about it.”

After some time walking the pair finally reached a massive hall. Inside there were dwarves moving around objects, and rearranging things. As the elf glanced from wall to wall he spotted more objects he could recognize. A pair of doors possible of elfish origin. “There,” Grungar said pointing to a gathering of individuals, “I believe you’re right on time to join them.” And with that the dwarf turned back and disappeared to one side. Uthiat slowly approached and listened as he popped another muscadine into his mouth. Be respectful of the dwarves, yes that would be expected. Uthiat popped another purple thing into his mouth. Good the reason for the apprentiship. The elf was wondering why there would be this many apprentices. From his travels it had appeared that there was only to be one apprentice for each mas… Uthiat almost choaked ‘your very own dragons.’ He replayed the sentence in his mind again, and again. Dragon egg… own dragon… Interesting, Uthiat thought, quite interesting. Had anyone ever done this before? Sure there was Modeus who was known for this but he had heard of no others. Several of the different individuals appeared completely disgusted with the thought, others appeared fearful of the idea. The only emotion on Uthiat’s face, quickly after the shock, was intrigue. 

Uthiat quickly ran to catch up with Modeus, as did several others. “Our own dragons,” he asked. “Yes,” the High Lord replied, “for each of you.” “Has this ever happened before? I mean besides you, of course you have done it. I can see the reason for picking them as hatchlings due to the bond a newborn normally has toward the first thing it sees. The idea is much like the falconers to the south. Choosing their egg, and being the first thing that the falcon sees helps to make the bond between the two. Quite interesting. Where did you gather your eggs?” The barrage of words was little more than nervous chatter. His excitement at the idea was easy to see. 

The elf turned toward the others making their way down the hall. “I’m terribly sorry, where are my manners? My name is Uthiat Alenaneldth,” he said slowing down, “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” It was the first time Uthiat had looked at the others. 
One was a dwarf. He was a strong squat fellow who closely resembled an iron keg. As they walked into a hallway it sounded like someone was dragging a chain behind them. 
Then next was a man in leather armor with a wolfskin cloak and the hafts of two large weapons. This fellow was covered with tattoos with long hair. Some kind of a tribal Uthiat guessed, a wolfskin of that size made him think northman. 
Another man moved nearby. This one had a mixture of metal and leather armor hidden under a traveling duster. On one hip he appeared to have some kind of weapon, but it was rather hard to tell at a glance what it was. The elf guessed this one must be from Bel'angrath though the tattoos on his face were somewhat tribal making it harder to tell. 
Then there was someone more familiar, an elf. It was easy to tell this one was a wood elf by the leaves and wooden armor. The stone staff was interesting in appearance; it must have taken someone a while to chisel it out correctly.

“Is that Ironwood,” Uthiat asked as he slowed to walk beside the woodelf. The decision was made rather instinctively, this was the only other elf here. “Did you make it I hear it’s very hard to work.”


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## warsmith7752

Torak trudged up the steep mountain trail, the journey had been boring. Nothing had happened out of the ordinary, Torak had actually hoped he would be ambushed to get one last fight before the years of training he would be going through.

Alas nothing except his cohort were seen on the journey, the five warriors had chosen to accompany Torak and make regular visits (once every three months) the see how their brother was getting on, of course high lord Modeus would have to approve but the dwarven stubbornness would hopefully tip the argument in his favour.

Torak reached a large gate with two gruff looking dwarves standing gaurd, they obviously expected some sort of explanation.

"My name is Torak Delkrak, high lord Modeus offered me apprenticeship. These are my brothers in arms, they wish to speak with Modeus."

"you may enter Delkrak but your cohort must turn and leave this place."

"they just wish to speak with Modeus," Torak replied with a tinge of added desperation. The dwarves were not convinced,

"you may enter Delkrak but your cohort must turn and leave this place." the battle of two wills, the stubbornness of dwarves against a force if equal stubbornness, it was obvious no side would let up before the other. Torak turned to his cohort and said,

"I am sorry, we could sit and argue for weeks on end but I had better not upset my hosts." the dwarves sighed a heavy breath, but nodded their heads.

"you had better not die Torak, if you don't return to us hell itself won't rescue you from us." and with that his cohort turned and left for home. Torak turned to the ironhammers who opened the heavy metal doors. A black bearded dwarf appeared in the space. Just as he opened his mouth to speak an ear splitting roar fills the air, Torak draws his weapons due to instinct. The black bearded dwarf chuckled nervously, "always a shock when they roar like that, lord Modeus assures me that you get used to it. Come grungar whites to meet Modeus' new apprentices."

Torak nodded and began following the Blackbeard.

The journey took a very long time, the spiralling hold resembled his own in many ways, he began to relax into his surroundings jus as they reached a large throne room. The ironhammers king granger sat atop a large golden throne. The dwarf exuded command from his very pores. Even the proud paladin that stool before him knelt in his glory.

"rise Torak Delkrak, I am not your superior here, this is your home for the foreseeable future and I wish to be friends with the only dwarven apprentice of Modeus."

"Of course Grungar, I feel at home already, your hold is very impressive, your crafters must be very skilled."

"only the best are made by the ironhammers, we shall speak more later, the high lord is waiting."

Grungar left his seat as the black bearded with two humans and a wood elf at his side. Torak leaned against the wall as grungar spoke to the others. They finally finished and began heading down the corridor.

They reached a large room, a group of elves, dwarves and humans were gathered and deep in conversation, beside them a magnificent black dragon. Torak tenses, he learned always to be on gaurd a long time ago and he was not going to forget it.

There was a high elf already in the room, he saw them coming and joined them. Torak stood and waited, he listened to the high lords words with avid interest. It was not until he heard Modeus say "your very own dragons" that Torak grasped the magnitude of the situation.

He was going to get his own dragon! This was huge, it took all Torak strength not to burst with emotion. He noticed the others had similar expressions on their faces. Modeus nodded to his dragon who left the room through a massive set of iron doors. Torak gazed at the dragon until it left his sight, he turned to look at Modeus who was no longer there. Torak set off at a run to catch up with him. They soon fell into step and at a good pace. Torak turned to the human berzerker and said,

"My name is Torak Delkrak, I hear you Northmen have strength to rival us dwarves, I thought it just a lie but you have a chance to prove me wrong."


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor had made the long arduous journey from his homeland in the northern wastes to where Lord Modeus had told him his keep was, yet he was not tired. Yes it had been a long journey but he was a man of the north, his endurance was second to none, and he smiled as he recognized the mountains Modeus had spoken to him about. Slowly he made his way towards the keep, seeing others who he assumed were also would-be apprentices on his way up, and the occasional dragon keeping watch.

His eyes narrowed as he saw the drakes, he had nothing but hatred for their kind, they were the cause of many of the troubles of his people and he had no love for them let alone any sort of sympathy. They were a bane upon this world and he would not stop until they were driven from his homeland or until he died trying, that was the norseman way.

They reached the gates to the keep relatively sooner than he thought they would, it appear that the fortress was much larger than he had expected. Two dwarves flanked it, each of them heavily armed and armored, he could kill them both easily if he wanted to, but they were not his enemies so he did not. He heard a voice speaking to him from his side and he looked down to see another dwarf garbed in different clothing then the others here, were they everywhere here? He had to admit he was excited to be among those of like mind but he had expected them to be...taller then they were.

They entered and eventually were taken to meet Lord Modeus, he spoke to them of their apprenticehood and of thier purpose. They were to attain their own dragons? Like him? His mind reeled at the thought. He was disgusted that it was even an option, they were beasts and they had killed his whole tribe, why would he want to train one? He was silent as he fought to control his anger, he stared at the black dragon sitting beside Modeus and stared into its eyes, strangely it seemed to calm him. 

Maybe this could be a new weapon for him, one with which he could eliminate the dragon taint from his homeland. He would think on it more, but for now he must answer the midget talking to him.

The dwarf speaking to him spoke in common so that they could understand each other, "Aye," his voice was thick with accent as he spoke to the dwarf, "I am of the north. I am Bjor, and I have also heard of the fabled strength of the dwarves..." his eyes narrowed as he spoke his next words, "You will have a chance to prove to me that your stature does not hinder your fighting abilities."


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## Angel of Blood

High Dragon Hold. 'At fething last" Kell thought to himself as he took another small sip of his almost empty water flask. The journey to the Kel'Karadorn mountains themselves had taken long enough, making his way up them had taken even longer. He had met precious few people along the way, others taveling the long roads to other far away places, the occasional bandit, most of whom were wise enough to avoid a man armed and armoured like Kell, two weren't quite so wise, they found out the hard way. At times he had gotten lost on the winding paths through the mountains but eventually he found the small dirt road to the Hold.

He took in his surroundings as he trudged down the path. The Hold was built into the mountains themselves, towers rose out of the mountainside, whole ledges had been transformed into gardens, which couldn't look more out of place in the harsh mountainous area. To the west there was a vast sea of green, the forest looked more natural than the gardens however, birds rose and fell back into the trees as he watched. He groaned as he approached the bottom of a winding staircase, he took another his last swig of the flask ad he started to climb the stairs. 

At the top of the stairs were two enormous metal doors flanked by two heavily armoured dwarves, who silently appraised Kell as he approached the doors. He went to say something to them, but suddenly felt himself unable to move as he heard a distant sound. Everything seemed to have gone eerily quiet, the dwarves hadn't moved or reacted in any way. Then he heard the sound again, only this time it wasn't as distant and he realised with terrifying familiarity what the sound was. Dragons.

He slowly turned to look towards the forest and saw exactly what he dreaded, a green dragon had burst from the trees and snatched one of the birds out of the sky, letting out another piercing roar as it did. An answering roar came from the mountains as he noticed another dragon perched on the mountainside. A trap?

He drew both of his swords in an instant, not knowing how they would possibly help against the drakes. "Don't worry yourself with them" A powerful voice said. He turned to look back at the doors, which were now wide open and saw another heavily armoured dwarf standing before him, although this ones armour was far more intricate and worked than the others. "Come" he said and turned to walk back through the doors. Kell remained where he was, swords still drawn. The dwarf sighed and said "You have mine and Lord Modeus word that they will not attack, now come" then walked through the doors. Slowly Kell sheathed his swords and warily followed the dwarf.

They walked through the luxurious halls, it was hard to believe they were really inside of a mountain. The walls were lined with long tapestries and ornate pictures, the walls were smooth and clean, completely unlike the sides of the mountains outside. The dwarf saw the way he was looking at the walls and said to him "The Hold was built by my people the Ironhammer clan, i am their leader Grungar, from what Modeus told me, you must be Kell Alenko. Now come, Modeus is waiting" 

They continued to walk in silence for what felt like an age, he dearly wished he had more water, he was about to ask Grungar if they could stop when they finally came to another set of large doors, which Grungar knocked upon three times. The doors swung open to reveal a magnificent hall, bright, warm and more importantly full of food and drink. Dwarves were busily working around the hall, carrying boxes of food, ale and supplies between the tables. He shifted his gaze to the end of the hall where Modeus himself stood infront of a group of others. 

Modeus truely was an awe inspiring figure, but even then Kell could not help but stare at the monstorous dragon beside him. He once again felt frozen to the spot and realised his hand was instinctively reaching for the pistol at his side. The dragon seemed to sense this and moved its piercing gaze towards him. He carefully moved his hand away from the pistol and the dragon seemed to blink in recognition of the action as he made his way forward towards Modeus and the others.

Modeus had just finished a warning about treating the dwarves with respect. He then said something earth shattering. 

"You are going to learn how to be Dragon Riders, you will become the greatest warriors this world has seen and save it from the darkness that threatens to consume this world with the help of your very own dragons. In a few moments i shall take you to the egg room where you shall pick a dragon egg which will eventually hatch into your dragon, and when it does your dragon will be your life long companion. Now let me tell you this, this will not be an easy path to follow and i will not be there to lead you by the nose the entire time, you all must learn in ten years what has taken me one hundred and fifty. If you believe yourself to be up for the challenge then follow me, if not then Grungar will lead you out and you may go on with your lives." 

Kell couldn't believe it. His own dragon? Become a dragon rider, like Modeus himself? Kell had thought that becoming an apprentice of Modeus might gain him some renown, aswell as riches. But this was something else. They would become famous, just as much as Modeus himself perhaps, he would never have to worry about money again. And most of all, he would be able to take the fight back to the dragons, on one of his own, the symbolism was not lost on him. A smile crept across his face. 

He turned to look at how the others had reacted. An elf, a high elf no less by the looks of him showed little outward emotion at the announcement, he merely look curious, how typical of their kind Kell thought to himself. A well armoured dwarf had an expression much the same as Kells, he looked like he could hardly contain himself at the news. Another one of his new companions was a man of the north, barely still a man in Kells opinion, he had no love for his northern kin, he was not looking forward to spending a long amount of time with the 'man'. 

He realised Modeus was leaving through a side door to another hall and hurried to catch up to him. The elf turned and introduced himself as, Uthiat Alenaneldth. He overheard the dwarf and the 'man' introduce themselves to each other as Torak Delkrak and Bjor respectively. Kell fell into step beside Modeus and asked him "Lord, how will we pick our dragon eggs? Have they been decided for us already? Is it possible to tell which type of dragon is within the egg?"


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## komanko

P.S Its possibly a little incomplete but thats because A. Im tired. B. I think I'm sick XD (not mentally this time )

It has been a month seen Avariss started his journey from the north lands to the far west. It wouldn’t have taken him this long if he actually tried to keep a strict pace of walking but he didn’t, he did not like physical action much. Thus he walked in a medium – slow kind of pace not straining himself to try and keep normal. The last few days he began moving upwards as he knew that he is approaching the Kel'Karadorn Mountains and it will not be long before he actually could see them and hopefully the famous High Dragon Hold which Modeus resided in. The last time Avariss met Modeus was in the farmstead and he did not have time to ask him questions as he quickly vanished after taking hold of the egg which still remained a mystery to him. What hopefully Modeus did not know was the fact that Avariss marked the egg with several nearly invisible symbols; they did not mean anything but it will still mark the egg when and if Avariss will be able to locate it.

Avariss’s journey was a success as he was not confronted by any bandits, ambushers or looters along the ways and wasn’t even attacked by beasts it was like those type of scum stayed out from this area… “Maybe it is because of the Dark Land’s ever expanding influence…” he passed the thought through his head wondering if it could really be so. The threat of the Dark Land was growing with each day, slowly those dead and evil lands engulfed the surrounding area which made them bigger and more powerful, if not stopped somehow the dark influence will spread to other places as well and so will the creatures that hail from inside those vile lands. Yet Avariss paid no real attention to this threat as he lived many years near those lands and in some way the marked him. Maybe as one of their own… Nonetheless it was a challenge and a threat that needs to be overcome and it made him wonder about the possibilities, one of them was Modeus.

Avariss only heard stories of Modeus and his Dragon and although he met Modeus he did not see his dragon which was quite unusual as all the stories tell about the both of them, the black dragon and Modeus, both as a time, fighting the evil that befallen the land. This thinking of Modeus reminded him of the weird and even cryptic offer that he made in exchange for the egg, “Become my apprentice.” he said, those were the exact words and Avariss remember them like he just met Modeus yesterday. He was excited as such a powerful figure could teach him a lot. Yet the fact that he could surely learn a lot from Modeus did not stop Avariss from trying to guess what the apprenticeship might be. And as he continued his futile tries to maybe figure something out about that offer Avariss did not notice as he nearly passed the High Dragon Hold which was pretty hard to miss considering the fact that it was not only magnificent but also carved out from the mountain itself. Surely it is not the work of one man, he had to have some kind of help otherwise it would have been impossible… This brought Avariss to the conclusion that Modeus is not alone in the huge hold... “He must be having guests from time to time too…” Avariss mumbled to himself as he made his final steps towards the hold’s entrance.

Taking a deep breath Avariss looked at the huge two steel doors, they were well made and gargantuan. Paying attention to what’s going on around him Avariss finally heard the screeches and roars of the creatures around him. He did not know what those beasts were but they were surely magnificent and he could not wait to study them and see what gives them this kind of terribly loud sound. They had to be huge for such a noise to come out of them, “assuming it’s them and not him or her.” Avariss wondered to himself. He gazed at the steel doors again this time noticing the two smaller figures standing by them, dwarves. Two angry, short tempered, big bearded and short dwarves stood by the door piercing Avariss’s face with their look. For some reason Avariss finally remembered why does screeches sounded familiar when he looked at the two dwarves, although it had nothing to do with dwarves, maybe perhaps eating them Avariss finally remembered that those familiar screeches and roars closely resembled the ones of the dragons who used to pass over Azril’Neldar. He had hard time remembering as it was seventy years ago but such magnificent creatures could not be easily forgotten. He was more fascinated then scared from dragons as they were creatures of beauty and chaos in the same time, they were ultimate war machines but also ultimate protectors it was all about from what point of view are you judging dragons…

“Stop that!” He commanded and smacked himself in the head, “Stop the day dreaming and get going, you imbecile!” he said again, “Fine! Fine!! I’m going!” he said cutting out his day dreaming and continuing the walk towards the gates. Avariss was about to speak and ask the guards if he arrived at the right place when one of the steel doors opened slowly and a short dwarf came out of it, “It’s a funny thing to think, considering they are dwarves.” He said, speaking with himself again. “Oh, do shut up!” Avariss moved on and bowed before the short black bearded dwarf who seemed to be some kind of a guard or a taskmaster. “Hello dwarf, I’m hailing from Narg'Aron and came here to meet High Lord Modeus, is that the right place?” For a moment the dwarf was silent, clearly evaluating Avariss’s face and expression, for some reason Avariss got the feeling that the dwarf is not too fond of magic but at any rate after a moment the “taskmaster” as Avariss decided to name him smiled and said, “That’s right, you’ve arrived at High Dragon Hold and Modeus is inside waiting for you and the others to arrive.” Avariss smiled it was a nice dwarf and his smile even got wider when he heard that others are supposed to arrive too this meant he could speak with more people. “Thank you for the nice welcome but can you please lead me to him?” Avariss asked politely. “I sure can.” The dwarf replied, smiling. He then turned around and walked inside gesturing Avariss to follow him and so he did.

The insides of the mountain were quite peculiar; they were not really mountain-like. It was more like a home nonetheless Avariss was glad to be in cover again as he did not want to stay out there with dragons on the loose who could attack him any moment and in a sudden slight paranoia attack he looked back fearing that some dragon is sneaking up on him. But of course nothing was there. As a dark elf Avariss’s eyes quickly adjusted to the dark of the halls and where he now saw everything perfectly clear. As the grim light did not hold any bars and restraints on Avariss’s eyes he could clearly see the vast amount of paintings and portraits scattered on the walls of the well made and carved out room. One of the many portraits was of Modeus himself which made any doubt go away from his mind, it was Modeus’s hold. As they continued travelling for a seemingly endless time the dwarf finally speaks breaking the eerie silence, “I am Grungar the Ironfist, leader of the Ironhammer clan who resides in this castle and serves Modeus and his will.” Introducing himself he turns back and looks at Avariss quickly regaining his sense from all the things he saw he politely introduced himself because he earlier forgot to, “Avariss Phyraere, son to Lordar the patriarch of house Phyraere, until he died of course.” Said Avariss looking to happy while saying that which made the dwarf raise an eyebrow but then continue walking like nothing happened. He clearly has seen worse than that as an introduction.

The dwarf led Avariss through the endless halls and it seemed already like they were working for hours, be it out of boredom or out of real amount of time. Avariss also could not predict the amount of time they walked as no sense shone above them, the only thing he knew for sure was the fact that his lags are begging to ache and he did not like that feeling. For some reason he thought that this won’t be the first time he would have to walk this distance. After what seems to be another decade they finally arrived at another pair of metal doors, this time they were not made of them same compound as before, closing the distance between him and the doors Avariss smelled them. The smell was completely different although having a slight tickle of steel in it. He decided that the door was made out of many different metals combined to form… This, obviously. Turning back like nothing happened at all he saw Grungar looked at him with a kind of amazement and laughter in his eyes and the embarrassed Avariss could only smile and shrug. “You are making a fool out of yourself… No I’m not! I can do perfectly well without your annoying additions to everything I do, so stay silent.” Avariss again said, he whispered so the dwarf won’t hear.

Finally stepping back from his position near the door the dwarf got closer and knocked on it three times. On the third time the door opened quickly revealing a huge room full of tables, chairs and most of all characters. Humans, elves, dwarves, every major race was represented here. Nearly everyone were busy some carrying barrels others creates of food filled up till the end with unknown stuff. Also Alcohol was a plenty here as nearly every third dwarf carried a keg of ale for some reason… “I don’t like big events…” He said, “Yes you do, you did not speak with anyone for about seventy years…”, “That’s true, you’ve won this time Avariss...” Again he said looking at all the buzz of work. The room itself looked like a major one as many smaller then before doors were placed on the mountainous walls. Those doors unlike the previous were smaller, they were at the same size as the doors in House Phyraere were and as most of the humanoids were shorter then elves, counting humans, dwarves and other elves in this calculation it was of the best interest to create elf height doors. No one could complain about it afterwords… Looking at the walls Avariss saw that again they were covered with paintings and tapestries as well as other art types it was surely a well lit and well decorated room fit to be a mess hall of a king or a living room, at any rate it was surely more than Avariss was used to in the past seventy years.

Avariss looked around a bit more before Grungar tapped on Avariss’s shoulder thrice and then pointed to the far end of the hall; looking to where he was pointed Avariss saw several figures talking with someone. It seemed that everyone were surrounding him, trying to sneak word in and have a word with it. Humans, elves and dwarves surround it and as one of the elves bowed, probably with respect Avariss saw that the figure was in fact High Lord Modeus himself and quickly it made him feel quite stupid for not noticing him earlier. A movement caught Avariss’s eye as he saw what seemed to be part of the blackened wall move, only when the thing opened an eye Avariss realized that it was a huge black dragon that nearly blended in with the room, his instincts yelled at him to shout “A DRAGON RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” but as no one paid special attention to the dragon even while looking at him Avariss decided that maybe he was not as dangerous as other dragons, in terms of hostility of course. After calming down Avariss took another look at the huge form of the black dragon, it was amazing, he never saw a living dragon so close and felt a huge urge to go and touch it but it would be rude as it was Modeus’s dragons probably. Avariss completely forgot of the dwarf near him and he got scared for a second when the dwarf tapped him in the back and said that he should go and join the group that gathered around Modeus as he has something important to tell them.

Avariss was nervous and not sure of himself when he walked towards the group; he did not interact with people for over fifty years and was not sure how to enter such a group of people, so he just sneaked his way inside like he was there before. Not saying a word about his arrival and not asking anything. As he got inside the group he heard Modeus finishing talking about something, “...and within these halls you are to be on your best behavior and treat the Ironhammer clan with the up most respect, is that understood?" People around him murmured with understanding and agreement and then Modeus gave out a small smile. He then continued speaking, talking about something completely different. “Now then I shall explain fully why I have brought you here. As you all know when I met each of you in turn I asked you to become my apprentice, and I know you are all wondering what kind of apprentice you will be." Avariss’s heart pounded with excitement, he had no idea what Modeus was going to say next but he knew that whatever it was he will be ready for the task completely and won’t be afraid to make the first step. Saying that Modeus let out an even wider smile	and said, “You are going to learn how to be Dragon Riders, you will become the greatest warriors this world has seen and save it from the darkness that threatens to consume this world with the help of your very own dragons. In a few moments I shall take you to the egg room where you shall pick a dragon egg which will eventually hatch into your dragon, and when it does your dragon will be your life long companion. Now let me tell you this, this will not be an easy path to follow and I will not be there to lead you by the nose the entire time, you all must learn in ten years what has taken me one hundred and fifty. If you believe yourself to be up for the challenge then follow me, if not then Grungar will lead you out and you may go on with your lives." Avariss’s heart literally stopped in his chest, for about fifteen seconds everyone were silent, it was like a tomb which no breath is allowed in because you may wake up the dead. Not even a heartbeat could be heard and this made Modeus’s smile even wider which right now did not really seem possible. Avariss was in utter shock he not only forgot how to speak but also how to move his body he literally was frozen in place. With that said Modeus nods towards the massive beast which resided nearby as it stands up and leaves the room through another monstrously large set of doors, every step of this beast made the ground shake and soon Avariss will have the same power also, with the right caring and parenting he could raise a powerful dragon and now came the question, which dragon, will he knew what egg to choose, he won’t be he decided that if he would see his own egg he will choose it, this egg was marked as his by destiny.

While watching the dragon leave Avariss didn’t notice that Modeus continued walking into another passage which led to somewhere else probably the egg room as this is what he said he will be doing now. The sense of excitement and adrenaline filled Avariss as he rushed after Modeus not wanting to waste a moment, acting as a child who really wants a piece of cake, he was impatient but he knew that he will get what he wants in the end. As the others quickly caught up as did Avariss he saw them introducing themselves and Avariss decided that it’s his turn so he spoke, with pauses because he was still in the process of catching his breath from the short spring, “My name… Is… Avariss Phyr…Aere.” Finally catching his breath correctly he said the whole sentence, “My name is Avariss Phyraere from house Phyraere if anybody heard of it hear. I’m looking for a nice time training a dragon with a good company.” He said arrogantly, assuming that he will get a dragon just like that. While introducing himself he saw one of the others ask Modeus about the dragons residing in each egg and thus Avariss blocked any other side from his mind as he tried to clearly hear Modeus’s answer. “NANANAANANAN, Is it annoying?!” His mind yelled at him. “Oh shut it, can’t you see I’m trying to concentrate.” he muttered maybe a little too loudly forgetting that he is not alone anymore…


----------



## Chocobuncle

Walking from the forests of Ela'Amnor the journey was long but well needed as Yeta had time to recover and recuperate from his wounds from his flight from a green dragon. At last though Yeta had made it to High Dragon Hold in the Kel'Karadorn mountains following the directions of the High Lord Modeus. As he stand upon the dirt trail leading into the mountains he could see in the far distance towers and other constructions which reached as far as the sky itself. It amazed Yeta as such things could even exist, they were easily far larger than even the dragon he had escaped from before. 

As he made his way further down the path into the mountain he could see a small shining object but as he finally came and approached the object it had been in fact two great doors followed by spiraling stairs. Guarding the doors were two dwarfs which intrepid Yeta as he had never came into contact with an actual dwarf, only spotting them from afar inside the forest. These dwarfs had great hard looking armor and a constant gaze which followed his every movement. Just as he got to the doors he heard a great screech he could not easily forget. He instantly remembered what made that noise as it came again, Dragons. Frozen in his place from the sheer thought of seeing such a magnificent yet deadly creature the two gleaming gates the dwarfs were protecting opened up. Another dwarf had come through the gates had a short black beard band appeared to be very old had ushered him inside the mountain passing the gates and inside still felt the unease and discomfort from the terror of the dragons roar and yet again being inside another mountain. Inside the cave which the dwarf had led Yeta into he could barley make the objects inside, his eyes straining to adjust to the little light inside.

As he looks from wall to wall he could clearly see the mountain had been carved, smoothed and had a very beautiful feel to it. Seeing many painting of the dwarfs themselves, dragons and even Lord Modeus it was interesting and he questioned about the outside world, about all of these things he had never know about before. The short dwarf leading him finally introduced himself with his deep thundering voice as Grungar the Ironfist leader in charge of the dwarven clan, Ironhammers, which served the High Lord Modeus. Yeta like wised introduced himself as Yeta Koeh, student of the spirits. After an untold time of endless walking just started to feel the unease of walking before reaching another pair of great doors which Grungar had tapped and opened. As the doors open Yeta saw a great bright room which he had to stain his eyes again to adjust to the light inside, and saw many people from dwarfs, humans and even elves inside with many objects all around the room from more doors and paintings to drinks, food, tables and many other things.

As Grungar points and tells Yeta to go to a group talking with the High Lord Yeta seeings the group made up of a dwarf, two humans, and another two elves beside Lord Modeus and a great dragon sitting calmly as its deep stare looked strait into Yeta and yet did not scare him but yet felt calm and walked towards the group. As he thought about it Yeta wondered why he had felt that way and wondered what had happened too all the fear and anxiety he had just had before from only hearing their scream. As he came closer to the group he could only hear, _*"...and within these halls you are to be on your best behavior and treat the Ironhammer clan with the up most respect, is that understood?" With a murmur of replies the Dark Elf gives a small smile. "Now then i shall explain fully why i have brought you here. As you all know when i met each of you in turn i asked you to become my apprentice, and i know you are all wondering what kind of apprentice you will be."

"You are going to learn how to be Dragon Riders, you will become the greatest warriors this world has seen and save it from the darkness that threatens to consume this world with the help of your very own dragons. In a few moments i shall take you to the egg room where you shall pick a dragon egg which will eventually hatch into your dragon, and when it does your dragon will be your life long companion. Now let me tell you this, this will not be an easy path to follow and i will not be there to lead you by the nose the entire time, you all must learn in ten years what has taken me one hundred and fifty. If you believe yourself to be up for the challenge then follow me, if not then Grungar will lead you out and you may go on with your lives."*_

Yeta couldn't even contemplate what the Lord had just said. He, himself was going to be GIVEN a dragon to train and take care of? The thought filled and rushed him with so many feeling to couldn't think were even possible, excitement, wonder, curiosity, anxiety, confusion. But before he could pull himself together to had seen the others following Lord Modeus through another pair of doors and rushed to keep up. Still pondering on what was happening he was questioned by what he assumed a High Elf given the fair hair and eyes, "Is that Ironwood," "Did you make it I hear it’s very hard to work."

Yeta replied, "Yes, the spirits showed me how to craft and mold it from the earth, I'm not sure of another way to "work" it though."
Not sure of what to ask the elf since he never had much contact with any other beings, he simply asked,
"Where do you come from? I've rarely seen elves that look similar to you in the woods of Ela'Amnor."


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## revan4559

Everyone:

While walking through the many hallways that are within High Dragon Hold, Lord Modeus listen's to all of your question with a slightly amused look on his face, once the last of your group asks their final question does he then start to answer them starting with Uthiat's question. "I have checked the records of all three of the elven races due to we are the oldest and most long lived of all elder races, and it has never been recorded that any member of the elder or mortal races has tried to tame a dragon and then teach the skills onto others, so in short. No what i am doing has never been tried before within the last four thousand years." Modeus then reaches up with his left hand and brushes back some of his long obsidian black hair behind his ear and out of his face so he can see where he is going more easily. "As to where I collect the dragon eggs, I gather them during my many travels searching for Dragon caves in which i usually find a clutch or two. But in some cases, like Torak the Dwarf" Modeus casually motions to the Dwarf Paladin in the group. "Other races have already found them which they usually give to me in exchange for helping them with their dragon problems."

Turning to the left as the group being lead by Modeus reaches divide in the hallways of High Dragon Hold, Modeus starts to lead the group up several flights of stairs before turning his head slightly to look at Kell who has fallen into step next to him. "Well Kell, within the hatchery I have laid out a few dragon eggs which will be hatching within the next three or four days and it is from them which you will be able to choose from. Which in saying that i believe i have already answered your second question aswell. As to whether you will be able to tell what kind of dragon you get by the egg will be very hard for all of you as so far you don't have the required knowledge to tell which egg belongs to what species. In some cases it is very easy, for example the ice dragon eggs are always coated in ice, and Stone dragon eggs appear to be stone with molten veins. On the other hand it is impossible to tell shadow, black and purple dragon eggs from each other due to they are all similar colours and you won't be able to tell which is which until they hatch."

Having finished answering the question's so far you all have abit of time to fully examine High Lord Modeus for the first time. The High Lord stands around eight feet tall which is very tall even for an elf, his obsidian black hair tumbles half way down his back which must been a pain to deal with when putting on a helmet. Like all other elves his ears are pointed and his face is made up of sharp angular features. As per the all dark elves the High Lord has pale skin instead of fair skin making him appear as if he has no blood in his veins and almost vampiric, but what sets him apart from his Dark Elf brethren is his eye colour which is the rarest of all, dark purple eyes. Turning your attention from his facial features you look over the armour that he is wearing. He is wearing what seems to be something akin to full plate armour that the humans of the south wear but with a partial elven twist to it. Instead of the flat and sometimes circular plates of the humans of the south, these plates akin to the shape of dragon scales. The colour of the armour is a deep dark obsidian similar to the High Lord's hair with some purple plate trim on the chest and pointed shoulder guards. At his side he carries a extremely long looking blade inside of a dark purple sheath. The hilt and pommel of the blade is once again a very dark obsidian but what is most striking about it is that at the end of pommel instead of being a circular or square pommel end, is that it is in the shape of a roaring dragon head. All in all the High Lord looks like he would best be suited as an Elven king of noble leading great and vast armies into battle instead of taming dragons. Though as you look at his gear once more you find it rather interesting and strange, maybe you should ask the High Lord about where he got such things or who forged them for him? (this is the best image i can find out what Modeus would look like with his armour, please ignore the scythe things around him: http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs46/f/2009/187/4/f/Anima__Ophiel_the_fallen_Angel_by_Wen_M.jpg )

Shifting your attention back to where you are being lead the High Lord has lead you to yet another massive set of doors, which begs the question about why most of the doors within this hold are build so large? Maybe you should ask him when you get the chance. What is different different about this door compared to all others is that it has no handles or bars on which to pull on to open it. The door is completely smooth except for a single hole the size of a dinner bowl in the center of the door. Striding up to it modeus adjusts his left gauntlet then reaches out towards the hole, his hand all the way up to his elbow vanishes into the darkness before there is a loud clicking sound before Modeus removes his arms. After a few uneasy seconds the ground starts to shake as the doors open, not splitting in the middle like normal doors but the entire door is retracted upwards into the ceiling, turning around with a large smile on his face Lord Modeus beckons you forward and inside. "Time for you to pick your dragon eggs." Turning away from the group the High Lord walks into a brightly lit room and awaits for you to enter.

Walking inside of the large brightly lit chamber you are astonished by the amount of dragon eggs around the room. The room itself is circular in shape with the walls split up into shelves which house the dragon eggs which are slowly being heated by what appear to be magical fires. Moving about the room are twenty dwarves of the Ironhammer clan who appears to be monitoring the eggs and making sure the fires remain going. Returning your gaze back to Modeus who is now in the center of the room facing you and the others, he is stood infront of fourteen dragon eggs. As you more closer you can hear the High Lord call out and explain to you. "These are the dragon eggs that are the closest to hatching at the moment, so it is up to you to pick one of these twelve that will eventually hatch into your dragon. Depending on which one you pick depends on the species of dragon you get. Now choose carefully as you will be expected to care for this dragon until it is able to look after itself in two years time, and it is at that age(two years) it will be the size where you are able to rider it. Is that understood?" Stepping to the side the High Lord motions with his right arm for you to move closer an examine the eggs. As you move closer to examine the eggs you can see that they are all roughly the same size and shape the the appearance changes from egg to egg. (Going from left to right).

Egg 1: The first of the eggs is a light coppery colour with small ebon spikes jutting out from random places of it, the egg also many small obsidian black dots over its surface.

Egg 2: The second of the eggs is once again a light coppery colour yet this one is completely smooth and has obsidian stripes instead of dots. Each stripe is evenly spaced from the one above and below and there are in total ten stripes.

Egg 3: The third egg in the row of dragon eggs is a pale yellow colour which has a pale blue spine running down the front of it. Each part of the spine is roughly two inches in length and looks very sharp to handle.

Egg 4: The fourth egg appears to be the complete opposite of the third egg, in that it is a very dark blue colour with a dark yellow spine that runs around the entire shape of the egg in a spiral type pattern.

Egg 5: The fifth egg in the line of dragon eggs is a rather pale grey colour which is completely smooth, and much like the second egg in the line, it has black stripes around parts of the shell.

Egg 6: The sixth in the row of eggs is almost completely silver save for a several white and grey dots on the surface of it. The egg itself seems to be giving off its own form of light which illuminates the eggs either side of it.

Egg 7, 8 and 9: These three eggs all appear to be exactly the same, being a rather dark, almost black, purple. Clearly this is what Modeus meant by Shadow, Black and Purple dragon eggs being impossible to tell apart from each other. The only difference between the three is that the first(7) has many thorny ridges around it. The second(8) is completely smooth and flat, and the third(9) seems to be similar in appearance to Modeus's armour patter, as if it were made of scales.

Egg 10: The difference from all the other dragon eggs and the 10th egg is that the 10th egg is completely covered in some form of green and teal moss, which no matter how much you pick at it, wont come off of the egg. Meaning you are un-able to tell what colour the egg underneath is.

Egg 11: The 11th egg of the line of dragon eggs is a rather strange shade of gold. The egg itself has many spikes, spines and horn like growths jutting out of it which would make it very hard to handle.

Egg 12: The 12th egg of the line of dragon eggs is a very bright yellow with spec's of golden scales at different angles of the egg. Like many of the other eggs this egg has thorny like growths on the outer shell, but only in a single ridge down the center from the top of the egg to the bottom.

Egg 13: The 13th egg is relatively simple to guess that lives inside, much like the 14th egg. Thanks to Modeus explaining earlier you can tell this egg house's an Ice dragon due to the way the air is chilled around it, and frost coats its outer shell and the stand which it is on.

Egg 14: Last but not least is the 14th egg of the line of dragon eggs. Having been explained earlier by Modeus it is easy to tell that this egg is home to a stone dragon, due to its outer appearance is very similar to that of a boulder and it has many 'molten' like veins running across its surface.

OOC: there are 14 eggs to choose from, 1 of each type of dragon(though there is multiple of two species). Its going to be post first serve with these dragon eggs, so if you miss out on the egg you want then you will have to pick another.


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## warsmith7752

Torak Smirked at bjorn, the humans facial expression vaguely resembled hostility which amused the dwarf greatly.

"no point in arguing lad, we will be here for years and I can hold a grudge for an eternity. You don't want me as an enemy."

Torak did not wait for a reply, he sped up ahead of the berzerker. Then high lord Modeus began talking, he answered the various questions that the group had asked one by one. Torak grinned smugly when Modeus mentioned his name, he looked at the others reactions which were not apparent so instead he continued walking.

Torak realised that he had never seen the dark elfs armour before. It was the complete opposite to the paladins armour. Where Toraks was bright, silver and let out a slight glow, the high lords was dark, ominous and seemed to exude darkness, Torak pictured him as a spectral avenger from the realms of death. At least that's where Modeus looked like he came from.

They continued walking for a little while until they eventually reached another door, all the doors in the hold were massive, this was of course so the dragons could pass freely through them. This particular door was very plain, there were no handles or patterns, just a sheet of metal in the doorway attached to hinges. A small centralised hole sat in the centre of the door hole.

Lord Modeus walked up and put his arm in it, there was a swirling of purple mist before Torak heard a lock click. The dragon lord smiled and said "time for you to pick your dragons." Torak was surprised, it was not in his nature to rush into big descisions, he had gone along this far for information but he was still not sure wether it was for him or not. The dwarf had half a mind to object but looking around at the eggs gathered in the room he could not help but wish to be a rider.

"which one of these did I give you Modeus? I'm not finished with that bastard."

"we do not harm the dragons Torak, they deserve respect."

"And my fallen comrades don't?"

"that was not the Childs fault dwarf, I do not wish to discuss the matter but if you feel that way you had better leave now and never return."

Torak stood defeated, his desire overwhelmed his lust for revenge. Deep down inside he knew his comrades would be lain at peace some day and he would be the one to do it.

The dark elf led the group to a row of 14 eggs laid out by the busy ironhammers who dotted about the room no doubt insuring the eggs would stay healthy. The high lord explained that the 14 eggs in front of them were the closest to hatching. Torak stepped up first, he looked at each egg in turn.The third, flourth, sixth, tenth and eleventh were the ones that cought his eye. Torak always let his gut instinct choose thing for him and it led him to the eleventh. But the sixth egg seemed to sing to him, it was not a song as such but a high pitched hum that would irritate most but it calmed Torak, it reminded him of the battlefield, where he belonged. Others shirked but Torak had only ever felt comfortable when fighting. That was when he felt most safe within himself, like an impenetrable bulwark that stood firm while all else withered and fell, Torak then turned to the rest of the group. He saw some of them in a new light, mainly the two elves. He would be glad to go to war with them.

Torak stepped forward and picked up the sixth egg, and then turned to Modeus and said,

"I normally go with my gut instinct which would lead me to the eleventh but I can sense something within this egg."

Torak returned to the group and waited for the rest to pick.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

_"Where do you come from? I've rarely seen elves that look similar to you in the woods of Ela'Amnor."_ Uthiat glanced over to the wood elf. Spirits showing how to craft and mold, was this a druid? Uthiat had spoken to only a few of them in his time. “Ela’Amnor? No no, I come form the lands Az’Neldaren. A land far different from those lovely forests. The place I come from is a land that is flat. You can easily see for countless miles, though almost all there is to see is farms. The White Cities though, those could be some of the greatest wonders one might ever see.”

The dwarf introduced himself as Torak and proceeded to offer a slight insult. The Northman, called Bjor, replied with a likewise slight insult. It was the dwarf that appeared to react the worse of the two. Simply appearing to smile and speak of holding a grudge for eternity, then quickly moving away. “Humm,” the high elf whispered watching the dwarf move away, “Interesting.”

Uthiat was silenced as Modeus spoke. They continued along to a single massive door. Strange how this place had such oversized doors. As the high elf thought of asking why his gaze moved to the black dragon. “Oh,” he said absent mindedly.
_So Modeus had gathered these eggs, interesting_. Uthiat smiled, _upon a dragon one must be able to travel at speed._ _That would be invaluable for intercepting problems, or for traveling to those hard to reach areas. Imagine what things you could find, and experience with that power! It would be wondrous!_

As the doors opened Uthiat smiled and reached down into a pouch at his side. He slid the pages open carefully using a cloth marker. He then freed a pen from another pouch. This writing interment was peculiar in its appearance. Uthiat tapped its side and placed it on the page. He began to write. The door was locked, smart if there could be baby dragons running around or if there was someone trying to steal one. If what he had heard was true then they could be very potent.

As they stepped inside the dwarf moved forward with intent. There was a brief exchange between the hot blooded dwarf and the High Lord. The dwarf apparently wanted a single egg for only one purpose. Uthiat was quickly scribbling down a description of each egg as the High Lord explained about them. They were the closest to hatching. Each one was expected to care for their dragon. Oh yes there would be many questions there. Two years until it would be large enough to ride. Only two years, amazing. Uthiat finished writing his descriptions. 
“Amazing,” he said looking at the eggs, “Two years you say? They must grow very quickly.”

Torak was the first to chose. Uthiat made a quick note of it in his book. As the high elf looked over the eggs his eyes stopped on one. This one was bright yellow with specks of gold. What drew his eye was the arrangement of the thorny growths. These were in a single ridge. “Interesting,” he said reaching out. As his hand brushed the ridges he could swear the thing rocked. “What do you think little one,” Uthiat whispered. As he did he could swore it rocked again. This time the prickly barbs cut his finger. The high elf smiled.
 “Well then,” he gently lifted the egg, “It appears this one wishes a ‘blood’ connection.” A terrible jest Uthiat knew, but he couldn’t resist. As he moved away the high elf began to scribble more information into his book as the others stepped up to chose.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor smiled at the dwarf's ill concealed threat, this was going to be a fun one to get to know for only true warriors jabbed at each other like they just did in jest. He was silent as Modeus spoke, taking in all of his surroundings everything was so big, for how short they were the dwarves most certainly very good at crafting the biggest and strongest of Keeps. He had never in his lifetime seen anything close to this magnitude before, the closest thing man made being a small keep in the mountains up north that an old and strong tribe had lived in for many many winters.

That would be a small hill compared to this keep and all of its insides, quite amazing really if one thought about it. So they were to have their own dragons? He still found it hard to grasp that he would have his own beast to grow with and teach everything thing he knew. It would be his other weapon, an extension of his body and mind, and they would fight with bravery and no fear like he had been taught by his mother and father.

They reached a room with fourteen eggs, they were supposed to choose one, yet Modeus had stated that some were harder to tell what they were then others. His eyes picked out the ice drake egg immediately and they narrowed as he fought the urge to plant his axe head straight through it. The bane of his people for time immemorial and now he had a chance to wipe one from the face of this world in one swipe, yet he stayed his hand. This was but a babe, new to the world and its workings, and more importantly it had not hatched yet which meant it could not defend itself so he chose not to touch it. 

If something could not defend itself he would not harm it, but once it could all of his fury would come down upon it. He glanced over at the clutch of three eggs that looked almost exactly alike and made his way over to them, his eyes took in the little differences of each egg. His hand brushed over the nineth one and the egg moved, he did it again to make sure that it was not he who had moved it and once again it shook. It was not a small movement either, in fact it was quite violent as if something were striving to get out so that it could get to him, a smile crept across his face. 

He picked up the nineth egg, its black scales rough and shiny, and smiled as he spoke to it, "You have fire in your heart little one..." The egg shook again, "I will teach you the ways of my people and we will fight as one to defend them." He could feel the raw unchecked strength and power coursing through the egg, it would be the perfect berserker..just like him. He turned to Modeus and said, "I choose this one, the nineth egg." he waited to see what eggs the others chose.


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## Angel of Blood

Modeus turned to Kai as he hell into step with him and said "Well Kell, within the hatchery I have laid out a few dragon eggs which will be hatching within the next three or four days and it is from them which you will be able to choose from. Which in saying that i believe i have already answered your second question aswell. As to whether you will be able to tell what kind of dragon you get by the egg will be very hard for all of you as so far you don't have the required knowledge to tell which egg belongs to what species. In some cases it is very easy, for example the ice dragon eggs are always coated in ice, and Stone dragon eggs appear to be stone with molten veins. On the other hand it is impossible to tell shadow, black and purple dragon eggs from each other due to they are all similar colours and you won't be able to tell which is which until they hatch."

Kell nodded in acknowledgement and fell back towards the rear of the group. They continued to walk down the long high corridors with Modeus at their head. To his side he heard someone mutter quietly "Oh shut it, can’t you see I’m trying to concentrate." He turned his head to look at the dark elf next to him, who seemed to have spoken out loud to no one in particular. Kell cocked his head and looked at the elfs face, a long scar bisected his face and he had dark green eyes, something Kell had heard was related to those who used fel magic. He stared quizzically for a moment in silence and then raising his eyebrows said "My you are a strange fellow aren't you"

They reached yet another large set of doors, "You do have a perculiar affinity for overly large doors don't you" he said out aloud. This door looked different to the others though, it had no visible handles or knobs they could use to open it with, the only thing was a hole in the middle of the door. Modeus stepped up to the door and inserted his hand into the hole briefly before withdrawing it. The door then slowly began to rumble open, withdrawing into the ceiling. 

Modeus turned to them with a smile and said "Time for you to pick your dragon eggs." before walking into the bright room.

Kell walked into the large circular room and took a moment to take in the contents. It was breathtaking to say at the least. The room was full of shelves of what had to be dragon eggs. They were heavily diverse, with many colours, some had spikes or spines, others had none at all. Torak rushed forwards and angrily said "which one of these did I give you Modeus? I'm not finished with that bastard." Modeus exchanged a few words with him and seemed to calm the dwarf down. Kell leaned forward and said sardonically "Now, now little dwarf, no need to get all excited"

Smirking he moved forwards to look at the large array of eggs infront of him. How was he meant to pick between them? He saw Uthiat carefully jotting down noted into a book he had produced as he observed the different eggs. He looked over and saw Torak choose a silver egg. 

He continued to look at the other eggs, still having no idea which one to choose. His eyes eventually fell on a dark, completely smooth egg, it seemed to almost draw in the light around it as he looked at it. He knelt down to the same level as the egg and curiously reached out to touch it. The egg began to tremble as his hand drew closer towards it, slowly he placed his hand on the eggs smooth surface, it abruptly stopped trembling as his hand pressed to it. "How very interesting" he muttered under his breath. 

He picked the egg up and backed away, still gazing into is impossibly smooth and dark surface. "Guess i'll take this one then" he said to Modeus


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## komanko

OOC: Sorry its that long again XD Still its not nearly as good as the previous post but hope its good enough as I was in some sort of a sleepy weird state while writing it.

No one seemed to notice Avariss’s loud mumble, luckily for him… All he needed now was the new people he met to think that he is completely out of his mind. They all continued to walk through the hallways of High Dragon Hold while Lord Modeus listened to the wave of questions which engulfed him. He waited until everyone finished asking and only then he started answering. Avariss could guess the questions although he didn’t hear them as he was a bit late. The first question that Modeus answered was probably if someone attempted to do what Modeus plans to do in the past. Modeus answered, he said that he checked the records of all three elven races because elves were the oldest and lived longer than others but he did not manage to find anything which hints on an attempt to tame dragons or teach others how to for the last four thousand years. He then shortened this version saying that it was never tried. He then moved to answering the second question which was about gathering eggs probably. While doing that he moved his hand and brushed some of his hair out of his face. He then finally answers the question, “_*As to where I collect the dragon eggs, I gather them during my many travels searching for Dragon caves in which i usually find a clutch or two. But in some cases, like Torak the Dwarf*_" Modeus casually motions to the Dwarf Paladin in the group. "*Other races have already found them which they usually give to me in exchange for helping them with their dragon problems.*” This again reminded Avariss the egg that Modeus got from him and he had the urge to ask him about that egg. He was curious to see what would hatch from it. Yet Avariss’s day dreaming was cut out as he heard no more talk as Modeus probably answered all the questions which were asked.

Modeus soon turned to the left and everyone followed him, the hallways themselves looked gruesomely similar and for some reason they made Avariss feel sleepy, “*Feeling sleepy?*" He said. “*A bit I guess this all round and rounds of turns and halls just get me bored easily*…” He answered. Soon they all turned again to find themselves facing several flights of stairs. As they were going up the stairs a Human into pace with Modeus and the both began talking. Avariss didn’t bother listening. It was probably more question about dragon eggs and similar things. He got the feeling that Modeus is not telling them everything about being a Dragon Rider and the eggs themselves and thus he decided to learn it on himself with his personal dragon. “_*Will you dissect the dragon*_?” The voice asked. “*Are you mad, why I would do that*?! _*I won’t kill it for experiment*_. *If anything we will try to learn from it while it’s living*.” Avariss answered. “*Sounds fun, but if he does die… Do dissect him please*.” The voice said again. Avariss did not bother answering he knew that after that a wave of endless speeches and questions will come if he starts a conversation with him.

Avariss continued to stare forward while walking, for the first time he saw Modeus not in complete darkness but in some kind of a dim light. This was enough for a Dark Elf like him and he saw completely clearly through the light darkness carapace which engulfed the surroundings. Modeus himself had clear Dark Elven Features yet he was extremely pale even in comparison with other Dark Elves, he was also one of the tallest Avariss has ever seen standing in about eight feet, this was amazingly high. His hair was very long and clearly it troubles him when he does certain things like putting on a helm. Also apart from all those extremes Modeus had the rarest of all eye colors, Dark Purple, it was really rare and was said to mark those who were born to do great things. Shifting his eyes from Modeus’s magnificent form Avariss moved to look in his armor. It was well made and very interesting. It was in an obsidian like color, it is also highly resembles a suit of plate armor which is made by humans of the south but elven engravings and art could be seen on the armor as well. Instead of the regular circular plates that formed a plate armor this one had some sort of a scaly look to it, the plates were replaced with a scale like metal plates which the armor was made of. The trim of the armor was purple and the shoulder guards resembled the rest of the armor with their pointy and scaly look.

Moving a bit more down Avariss saw that Modeus carries a very long blade which had a dark purple sheath. Not so surprisingly the blade itself is again colored in obsidian color yet it was clearly custom made, a work of a master crafter as in the end of the pommel there was a beautifully made roaring dragon head instead of the normal square or circle which usually decorated the pommels end. Avariss got the strange feeling that maybe Modeus hides a lot of stuff from them especially his origin. Clearly his gear was made for a great general or a high ranking nobleman; it was not possible for a low life peasant to get such fantastic things. This would need to be investigated. “*He surely liked the obsidian and dark purple colors*.” The voice said again, annoying Avariss with his pointless pointing out of facts. “*Well aren’t you just a fantastic spy*?” Avariss whispered angrily… Finishing this little talk and deciding that’s it’s time to move on from staring at Modeus and into reaching the hatchling room more quickly Avariss turned his head up and marched forward to where Modeus was leading them.

Another huge door blocked their passage, it was similar to other doors around High Dragon Hold, it was made of some kind of metallic substance as the others were as well and had a dark paint on it. It wasn’t much of a decoration but more of just interference in the way. Yet what was really weird about the huge doors was the fact that there was no handle or some sort of device to open them. Instead there was some sort of a hole in the middle of the door, it was in the size of a dinner bowl and had to do something with the opening of the door because frankly there was no other way to open it except crushing it which was highly unlikely. All those doors made Avariss think that maybe they are more than just a decoration; maybe they were there for protection… Still the question arose, protection from what… Avariss hoped that they will find out soon. Everyone stopped for a moment in front of the door yet Modeus continued moving, striding to the middle of it and inserting his hand into the bowl sized hole. He stood there for about half a minute, nearly his whole hand inside of the hole. After the time passed a clanking sound was heard and as Modeus removed his arm the door started going, “*Upwards*?” They both amazingly asked. This was amazing and Avariss has never saw something like that, this could be extremely useful for anyone who is building a fort and Avariss had to find out the schematics or at least how it works. It was probably a mad dwarf’s creation… Modeus then turned around and faced them; he was smiling and looking straight at them. “_*Time for you to pick your eggs*_.” He said. Avariss’s heart nearly popped out of his chest, he had to see the eggs and did not want to wait any longer. As soon as he said that he moved in and everyone eagerly followed inside. Finally it was the time to choose the egg.

The room was well lit and it took a moment for Avariss’s eyes to readjust to the bright light which contradicted the state of darkness in the halls. Yet when his eyes readjusted he was struck with an amazing sight, the room was full of eggs, an astonishing amount of them was laying there, ripe for the taking. It was probably the reason why the rooms were guarded so much, Modeus did not want anyone to come inside and steal the eggs. This is at least what Avariss told himself to feel safer from the unknown reason for such measurements of protection. The room itself was in a circular form and many shelves housing many eggs decorated it. Those eggs were slowly heated by magical fires which burned under each. Around the room were spread out about twenty Ironhammer dwarves who looked after the eggs, monitoring them and making sure that they fire beneath them is well lit and in the right heat. Finishing observing the room Avariss saw that Modeus already moved to the center of the room, as Avariss moved closer he heard Modeus explaining, “*These are the dragon eggs that are the closest to hatching at the moment, so it is up to you to pick one of these twelve that will eventually hatch into your dragon. Depending on which one you pick depends on the species of dragon you get. Now choose carefully as you will be expected to care for this dragon until it is able to look after itself in two years time, and it is at that age it will be the size where you are able to rider it. Is that understood*?" Avariss nodded he was eager yet he wasn’t ready, he did not know which egg he wanted to choose. Modeus then moves to the side a bit gesturing them to go and examine the eggs. In size they were all pretty much the same and also in shape yet the appearance of each eggs varies a little. Yet none of the eggs mattered to him except the seventh egg from where he looked, it had a dark purplish color ironically again resembling Modeus’s armor. Yet it called for him, he felt like a connection to the egg itself. With its dark purplish color came the appearance of a hedgehog as many throny ridges were passing through it. This was the one, even if not the one which he managed to find near his house. This was the one he would choose. The seventh egg, it matched his age as he was a hundred and twenty seven and it matched his birth as he was born the seventh son to the house. It was his egg from now on, his dragon.


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## revan4559

Everyone:

The High Lord watches you pick your eggs as some of you merely pick them out and others pick them up he turns to one of the dwarves and leans down to listen to what he has to say, oddly the voices dwarf is so quiet not even an elf's ears can pick up what he is saying to the High Lord. Modeus then nods to what the dwarf has to stay before standing fully up right again and turnings to some more dwarves who enter the room from another door. As they walk in and bow to the High Lord he nods to them and says something to them. "Please take the eggs from my new apprentices and take the eggs to their new living quarters, with the others you know where to place them." The dwarves bow to the high lord again then move about collecting the eggs what were picked and leave the room with them down another of the halls.

Turning to fully face you the High Lord motions for you all to follow as he starts to explain what is going to happen next. "Now that you have picked your eggs we shall starts your training immediately. Your training will consist of researching about all the different types of dragons, you will care for your egg. You will be trained to fight in even longer and more tiring battles, learning how to fight whilst on the back of your dragon. And lore the history around many of the races through out the land. But first i think we shall start with some battle training to see what you know." Being lead through another door way the High Lord takes you on another ten minute walk around the keep to another unknown destination which could possibly be a training room of some sorts.

As the group being lead by Modeus goes through a rather small looking door compared to the monstrously large ones that can be found about the keep, they enter what appears to be some sort of under ground stadium or Colosseum. Amazed at such a sight under ground you almost forget to follow Modeus and the others down the stairs and into the main area. Once in the center of the stadium arena area the High Lord turns to face you and the others. "Now i want you all to wait here for a moment." With that Modeus turns and walks over to one of the many bolted and barricaded doors located all around the side of the arena. "Now im going to throw you into the deep end with your combat training so i want you all to do your best!" calls the High Lord as he grabs onto a rather large looking bolt which is keeping a rather large door closed and pulls it aside with seemingly inhuman strength. As soon as the bolt is removed the door bursts open and slams against the wall but somehow remains on its hinges. "Good luck my apprentices! i shall be watching with interest" With that the high lord moves off into a tunnel and re-appears up in the stands.

As you stand there wondering what was behind the large gate like door you are answered with several howls, screeches and roars from within the dark confines of the pen. Slowly a large grey scaled claw steps out of the door way shortly followed by another. The size of what ever creature Modeus was keeping in there must be immense as you can see that the size of the claws and thickness of the leg muscles are around the same size as Torak's head. After a few more seconds the beast that Modeus has unleashed sticks its scaled and serpent like head out, shortly followed by another, and another and another, until in total there are fifteen scaled heads sticking out of the door way. Knowing this creature from legends you can tell it is a fearsome Hydra, said to be a sub/proto-species of reptile and serpent. Dragging its massive body out of its pen the Hydra looks at you all for a moment before giving a shriek and charging at you with full force waving its many heads about.

ooc: hydra's are extremely hard to kill so i dont want to see any one post killing it, also try to work as a group and attack it from different sides, theres 6 of you and it has 15 heads, so thats about 3 heads each. Sorry if the update seems rushed aswell. The tips of all my fingers are cut from working with carbon fiber so its sort of hard to type.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat released the egg carefully into a dwarf’s hands. When High Lord Modeus spoke again he stopped looking toward the door the eggs had been taken through.
Training, good it was always good to be prepared. When Modeus spoke of researching the dragons the high elf smiled. Scribbled in the pages of notes on his hip was an account of several species of dragon, and several of the legends that surrounded them. As they walked Uthiat carefully wrapped his book and placed it back on his hip.

Fighting from a dragon interested the high elf. Most mages strived to find a perfect place from which to unleash their fury, and the back of a dragon seemed to be the perfect place. Able to reach where ever you must in a battle, always able to see from on high, yes it would be perfect for any mage.

As they continued to move Modeus spoke of battle training. In truth Uthiat felt rather ashamed. He had not trained in the art of the sword. He actually didn’t carry a weapon, save his staff which was used for walking. “What form of combat are you planning,” Uthiat asked as they began to step through a small door. What he saw on the other side was rather amazing, a colosseum. “Amazing,” the high elf whispered. It was an excellent likeness to many of the great stadiums he had seen while traveling. Uthiat quickly snapped back and ran down behind Modeus.

_"Now I want you all to wait here for a moment," _Modeus said leaving them standing in the middle of the area. He walked to one of the heavy doors and turned back to the apprentices, _"Now I’m going to throw you into the deep end with your combat training so I want you all to do your best!" _He pulled a massive bolt aside the door swung open with a massive thud._ "Good luck my apprentices! I shall be watching with interest” _With that the dark elf disappeared into a nearby tunnel and entered the stands.

“Curious,” Uthiat said looking into the darkness, “What exactly do you think he has in sto…” The first howl cut him short. “Oh dear,” the high elf said looking with wide eyes. What moved into the light was something both wonderful, and terrifying. First came the legs, with claws that could easily crush Uthiat’s head. They were covered in grey scales. It stomped into the light with a roar. As the full creature finally reached the light Uthiat swallowed hard. Deep end was correct. His mind rushed through information as he looked at it. Not a dragon, it was some kind of a lizard of serpent. What was the name? Uthiat took a few steps back while his mind raced. 

“Oh my,” he said as he finally recalled what it was, “a hydra.” Ahead of him one of the others charged. Hydras did somthing but he couldn't remember what. As blade met flesh Uthiat remembered. He quickly formed a ball of flame in his hands. “Your blade alone won’t work,” Uthiat shouted launching a ball of fire into the wound. The strike seared flesh, and reduced the twin heads growing from the wound to a charred stump. Another head howled as it prepared to strike. 15 heads. Between the mage and the warlock they might be able to kill each head, but it would leave each rather drained and if the beast managed one lucky strike… 

Uthiat moved back several steps before glancing at his allies. Tactics weren’t his strong point, but there was something he could do to assist. He closed his eyes and focused. Every weapon danced in his mind. Flames seemed to play at his very outline as he focused. He raised his hands. Flames leapt from his fingers and embraced each weapon for a moment leaving a flame that trailed from each edge. Flesh would sear and blood boil with each strike. The wounds would be sealed before the new heads could grow. The spell took almost two seconds to cast.(Cast Flaming Weapon on my allies weapons)

“There,” Uthiat shouted, “It should keep the heads from growing. Strike quickly!” Another ball of flame formed in the high elf’s palm as he looked for a new opening to strike at the creature.


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## warsmith7752

Torak squinted his ears to try and decipher the words spoken by the dwarf, he was unsuccesful only catching one or two syllables. Seconds later more dwarves walked through the door and took the apprentices eggs. Torak relinquished his grip unwillingly but knew he had no choice in the matter. The dwarves left through the door towards the resistive direction. The high lord then turned to speak to them. He spoke about their training, they would be learning about the dragons just as much as how to kill them. No problem for torak, his mind had to be honed as well as his body already. The paladin followed the high lord back through the doors.

They walked through a small door into a collesium, Torak was not surprised by the structure being here but respected the craftsmanship all the same. The high lord told them to wait in the middle of the arena. The dark elf walked towards a rather monstrously large door and pulled out a similarly monstrous bolt. The door swung open and the high lord disappeared, there was nothing for a few moments but then screeches pierced through the air. Torak recognised it instantly as a reptilian/dragonoid voice but he was unsure what kind it was.

A sense of dread and anticipation filled the dwarfs veins. He looked around at the other warriors, he knew he could trust them to do their jobs as he would his. A large grey claw appeared from the darkness,

"by the light....." muttered Torak as a giant serpent like head poked through the darkness. Then another came through. One by one 15 heads came into the open, a hydra...... Worthy challenge or overpowered foe? "Ah well" sighed the dwarf "I didn't expect anything easy." one of the elves had already began firing off at the beast with measured success. It was working just know by Torak knew that alone the group would be killed one by one. So he seized command and barked orders at the group.

"NORTHMEN TAKE THE FLANKS OF THE BEAST, DISTRACT IT WHILE THE ELVES REDUCE IT TO CINDERS QITH RANGED SPELLS."

With another almighty roar Torak felt the familiar surge of power as his weapons were imbedded with holy power as his small legs powered him forward. He rolled sideways to avoid the first strike from the hydra. he swung his hammer into the side of it's head, he heard a crunch as bones splintered under the holy wrath. The hydra was not convinced, it had faced harder targets and won. The resilience was astounding, instead of howling in pain it simply recoiled and struck with it's claw. The dwarf would have been crushed if he hadnt channeled his power throuh his shield to create a protective bubble, and even with that he felt his collar bone break. He grunted as the familiar healing powers made a temporary mend to his shoulders.

He stood and once again charged toward the dragon, a fresh strategy blossomed in his mind, he sheathed his weapons and grabbed onto one if the beasts necks, it was flailing wildly from an attack from one of the Northmen. This made it extremely difficult to hold on but the dwarf weathered the storm and leapt onto the head he had already wounded and slammed his recently unsheathed hammer into the beasts cranium, the *dong* rang through the field after a satisfying crunch caused a rather large dent in the credited forehead and ended its attack. Torak took a moment to admire his work, that was a BIG mistake. The creature slammed into him sending him sprawling through the air he groaned as he pushed himself to his feet and looked around at the others to see if any required healing......


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## Angel of Blood

Kell continued to stare at the egg he now owned, slowly running one hand over its impossibly smooth surface. He held the it closer to one of the crackling fires, but none of the light was reflected off the egg, it was as if it drew in all light around it. Whilst he was obsessing over this, the others had picked eggs of their own. 

Modeus then spoke to one of the dwarvs in an entirely unaudible whisper, he then turned to a group of dwarves who had entered the room and instructed them to take eggs from them and take them elsewhere. One of the dwarves reached up to take Kells from him. Kell reluctantly handed the egg over.

Modeus then adressed the whole group "Now that you have picked your eggs we shall starts your training immediately. Your training will consist of researching about all the different types of dragons, you will care for your egg. You will be trained to fight in even longer and more tiring battles, learning how to fight whilst on the back of your dragon. And lore the history around many of the races through out the land. But first i think we shall start with some battle training to see what you know." 

Dragon training sounded interesting enough to Kell, as did learning how to raise and take care of their dragons. Learning the history of the other races in detail however did not sound so appealing, Kell had never been much of a reader and this would undoubtedly involve a rather outstanding amount of reading. Presently though he was more interested in the last thing Modeus had said. Battle training.

They began to head off again through the long halls and corridors of the fortress. "Out of interest, was it really quite so necessary to have quite so many long corridors, could you not have just built everything close together?" he said out loud. He didn't expect an answer, it was just in his nature to make light of situations. However, not a moment after he had asked the question they came to another set of doors, these ones being noticeably smaller than all the previous doors. Raising his eyebrows he remarked in jest "This must be where the dwarves live i presume?" 

Modeus went through the door and the rest followed. Kell let out a small gasp at the room they had now entered, only it wasn't a room at all. It looked to Kell like a giant arena, with tiers of seats and platforms fanning out above them. Modeus strode into the center and said to them "Now i want you all to wait here for a moment." and with that went over to the other side of the stadium and approached a large reinforced door, with a absurdly large bolt holidng it shut. He looked back at them and with what Kell could've sworn was a rather mischievous look said "Now im going to throw you into the deep end with your combat training so i want you all to do your best!" and then threw open the large bolt as if it weighed of nothing and then vanished down a hallways.

"Well that wasn't at all cyrptic now was it" Kell muttered. There was a moment of silence as the group stared into the darkness of the now open doors. He heared Uthiat say "Curious, what exactly do you think he had in sto.." and was then cut off by a series of inhuman sounds that drifted out of the darkness, before a pair of massive scaled claws stepped out of the darkness. "Oh this can *not* be good" he said with a sigh.

The Hydra then emerged from the opening completely, all fifteen of his heads snarling in their direction. Kell had never seen anything like it. He had seen dragons before obviously and come across several other bizzare and twisted creatures in his travels. But nothing like the Hydra before him now. With a ear splitting shriek the Hydra charged. 

Uthiat engaged straight away, conjuring fireballs to hurl at the creature. Kell spat on the ground and whispered to himself "Magic" with contempt. But now was not the time for his views on magic. 

Torak bellowed out "NORTHMEN TAKE THE FLANKS OF THE BEAST, DISTRACT IT WHILE THE ELVES REDUCE IT TO CINDERS QITH RANGED SPELLS." Kell glared in his direction and snarled "Northman? Brush up on your geography dwarf! Don't you sare tar me with the same brush as our northern 'brothers'" Kell mouth had landed him in trouble numerous times in the past, and this was clearly not the time for arguements, but he would not be called a man of the north or take orders from a dwarf for that matter.

He watched the others charge ahead at the beast as they began laying into it. Kell stood still exactly where he was, having not moved since the Hydra had entered. He watched the battle for a moment and then spotted that one of the heads had noticed him. The creatures necks were long and even with him stood apart from the others they had the reach to get to Kell. With a roar the head dived towards Kell who still stood calmly in place. At the last second Kell spun around and drew his pistol in a heartbeat and fired into the open jaws. The head exploded and the remains of the neck dropped heavily to the ground. Kell lowered his smoking pistol and reloaded it, as he did he snorted and said cockily "Don't personally see what the fuss is about"

Even as he said this two more heads sprouted from the stump infront of him and roared into life. "Oh dear..." he gasped. He instantly raised his pistol again and fired. Their was a violent flash of light and a thundering blast as Kell felt himself hurled off his feet. The damn pistol had for the second time in his life misfired on him, he swore to himself if he ever found the dwarf who gave it to him, he would beat him to death with it. Reholstering it he picked himself up and drew his swords and the snarling heads went for him again "So NOT good!" he shouted


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor was astonished at the feeling that he felt inside of him as he held his egg in his hands. There was a deep connection already between the two of them, one that could not simply be described in words, it was a connection that two souls had when they had found someone exactly like them, someone who understood them completely without even having to talk. He smiled like a fool at the thought, here he was with hatred for all dragons in his heart and somehow this one, that was not even hatched yet, had stolen a special space inside of him. 

He knew that they would make an unbeatable fighting force, he would have killed that ice drake himself had it not frozen him, and now he was to have more training and have his own dragon to fight at his side. The northman supposed it was like having a wolfhound as a pet, just more dangerous...well much more dangerous than a wolfhound actually but that wasnt the point. He knew that dragons were supposed to be just as intelligent, if not more so than humans were, he did not know about the other races though. 

Their eggs were taken from them to a room where they were to hatch soon and they were led by Modeus to a large underground arena fit with seats and all. They were to be tested apparently in the ways of battle, something that he knew that he would excel in no matter what the challenge, he was simply a born warrior. He unsheathed his two axes and flexed his muscles as he stretched out and got ready for whatever came at them.

The gate in front of them slammed open allowing a scally claw and leg to creep out of it only to be followed by another leg and multiple heads. He heard one of the elves mutter the word Hydra and wondered at the beast before him, he had never seen one before in all his life, the northern wastes were not home to strange creatures like this. He did not know how to combat this beast so he went with the most logical conclusion, cut one of its heads off, he did it only to be met with two more growing out of the bleeding stump. He cursed as he lept away and listened to the others yelling at each other to burn the stumps, he was not capable of this so he went for the next weak point, its leg joints.

He sprinted for its back left leg, rolling under a head before leaping back up, his two axes swung at its giant tendon in a scissoring strike. The axes bit deep but didnt go all the way through leaving only a thin piece keeping its joint together, two of the heads screeched and suddenly its huge tail was sweeping out at him knocking him to the floor.


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## komanko

Avariss was in the middle of examining the egg he chose when he noticed Modeus turning to one of the dwarves and leaning towards him while the dwarf whispered something to him in a surprisingly silent speech which Avariss could not hear at all. Maybe he was just too far away to hear it or maybe the dwarf did speak quietly, it didn’t really matter. Avariss returned to examine the egg’s structure and material when he saw Modeus nodding to the dwarf and standing back up. Not noticing the new dwarves who entered the room Avariss continued watching the egg with a slight grin on his face. “*Please take the eggs from my new apprentices and take the eggs to their new living quarters, with the others you know where to place them.*” He heard Modeus saying, turning around he saw several dwarves heading towards him and the other apprentices aiming to do Modeus’s will. As the dwarf assigned to his egg approached Avariss simply let go of the warm-heated egg while a voice boomed inside his head, “*DON’T LET HIM TAKE IT! IT’S OURS!*” Rolling his eyes Avariss spoke back, “*Be silent, you know as good as I do that Modeus has no intention of taking it back, because if he did why would he show the eggs to us in the first place…*” The voice stayed silent. From his one knee sitting Avariss stood up facing Modeus and the other apprentices. Some looked sad at the taking of the eggs yet no one was as calm and careless as Avariss was currently. He knew that he will see those eggs later and there was no need to cry for them. 

After everyone finished “whipping” over the taking of the eggs Modeus turned to them, motioning them to follow him while he starts to speak, “*Now that you have picked your eggs we shall starts your training immediately. Your training will consist of researching about all the different types of dragons; you will care for your egg. You will be trained to fight in even longer and more tiring battles, learning how to fight whilst on the back of your dragon. And learn the history around many of the races throughout the land. But first I think we shall start with some battle training to see what you know.*” Avariss did not expect battle training so quickly, he was still hungry from the road and also a bit tired but this did not matter much, what mattered most was the fact that he simply did not like battling so much as it was pointless and a waste of lives. He did not believe as some certain individuals that battle shows a person’s true nature and personality, he only knew that it hurts later. Still this did not mean that he couldn’t fight and if commanded he will fight. As they all followed Modeus they were lead through another door and then another ten minutes walk to an unknown destination.

As they continued to walk they soon appeared to have reached their destination. They passed through a pair of doors which were not as large as the previous ones and looked like a mouse compared to an elephant. They were a lot smaller than those monstrously large doors from before. As they entered the room past those doors Avariss was surprised to find himself in some sort of an underground arena, this place immediately brought memories of the arena his family had back at home, they used to throw slaves there to fight each other. Regaining his senses, Avariss hurried a bit to catch back with Modeus who was walking forward into the arena’s battleground, he continued walking into the center of the battleground and everyone followed him. As they reached the middle of the arena Modeus turned to them and said, “*Now I want you all to wait here for a moment.*” Everybody simply stood in the center as Modeus walked away, he was headed towards one of the bolted and barricaded doors which were easy to find throughout the whole place "*Now I’m going to throw you into the deep end with your combat training so I want you all to do your best!*” Modeus called to them from where he stood. Not a second after that Modeus grabs into a large looking bolt which held the door and with seemingly inhuman strength pulls it out. The thing inside the door did not waste a second and when it heard the bolt move it smashed against the door, bursting it open yet somehow leaving it on its hinges. "*Good luck my apprentices! I shall be watching with interest.*" Saying that Modeus quickly walks away from the door and entering a tunnel which leaded him back up to the stands.

They all, like the apprentices they were, stood there, not knowing what to do and what expects them. Avariss guessed that like him, they were all wondering what is going to come out of the bolted door, “*It will be a savage 3feet tall gnome barbarian from the Dark Lands. I can smell him… Just watch…*” The voice said, Avariss smiled and bursted into a laugh which seemed completely out of place. Not a moment later Avariss’s voice quieted as he heard many roars, screeches and growls from within the now unlocked door. Slowly the ground started shaking a bit as a large scaly leg came out of the dark pen, its grey scales shining in the light creating somewhat of a dance of colors. Soon another leg came out of the dark confines of the pen. “*I don’t think it’s a gnome…*” Avariss whispered. The size of this thing must be huge as each of the thing’s claws was about as big as the size of Torak’s head. Not a moment passed when suddenly a large scaly serpent like head appeared from the confines of the dark pen, it sniffed and looked around, and soon more movement could be heard as another head appeared from the pen followed by another one and another one. The sum of the heads quickly came to fifteen. This was an hydra, from time to time Avariss saw one of those creatures pass near the border of the Dark Lands, this were twisted creatures which were virtually undefeatable without magic, as for every head which was decapitated another two grew up. And as long as blood was flowing through its veins heads would continue growing. Smiling evilly Avariss knew that nothing can survive without blood and that he has exactly the right spell to deal with creatures with large stocks of blood in their bodies. The Hydra itself was a sub species of reptiles and serpents, more of a twisted evolution that served more as a war machine then an animal. Avariss could not even imagine how Modeus locked this thing inside the pen. Soon the beast started moving again dragging its body outside of the pen and into the light. The monster took another look at the group of apprentices before giving out a loud and terrifying shriek and charging full force ahead waving its many heads.

“*NORTHMEN TAKE THE FLANKS OF THE BEAST, DISTRACT IT WHILE THE ELVES REDUCE IT TO CINDERS WITH RANGED SPELLS.*" Torak yelled out at them as he charged into the beast, meanwhile Avariss saw the mage Uthiat launching a fireball at the Hydra, he then moved backwards and began casting a spell. Avariss quickly understood what the spell was, it was the flaming weapons spell which engulfs a weapon in magical flames that won’t hurt the user of the weapon but will hurt the one he is attacking. It was a wise plan as it will reduce the Hydra’s amazing regeneration capabilities. After casting the spell Uthiat yelled out telling everyone that did not recognize the spell and what it did that it will stop the heads from regrowing. Soon Kell and Bjor joined in the fights both fighting at their own opponents. Still not getting entangled in the fight Avariss saw Bjor rushing towards the legs of the creature in hope of cutting them yet his vision was obscured by one of the extremely long heads which decided to suddenly and unexpectedly attack him. The head flew to his direction, his maw open, his jagged knifelike teeth shining in the light ready to tear bone and limb. Yet Avariss was not defenseless. “*Would you please?*” Avariss replied, “*With pleasure!*” An evil grin spreading on his face Avariss took one of his hidden daggers and hurled it into the beast’s head. The head dodged looking for a moment at the knife yet a moment was all that Avariss needed because when the creature turned back to attack him a bolt of searing hot green flame was already heading into its place, exploding on the head and completely destroying it. “*Uthiat! I’m gonna try something now! Be ready to bombard the Hydra with fireballs! Everyone get back so you won’t get hurt!*” Avariss yelled out and immediately started casting the conjure night spell. Hoping that everyone got out of the area of the night zone Avariss yelled to Uthiat, “*Start firing now!*” He hoped that the mage was not too proud and will listen to him. As soon as he could Avariss started casting his Fel Fire Bolts as well at the Hydra in the dark.


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## revan4559

Uthait: You remember that making your fire balls too powerful will drain your energy too quickly so you need to remember to pace yourself with your spells. As your eyes scan over the Hydra the charred stump where two heads were about to grow seems to returns to normal colour as it explodes in a cloud of blood and charred flesh as the two heads emerge. It appears that your fire ball only slowed down the growth of its extra heads, clearly this is no normal hydra. Having the quickest mind of the group you get the feeling that maybe you could call to Modeus for some advice or an explination on what exactly this hydra is, as normally hydra's are purple or green, not grey. As you stand there thinking the hydra's tail lashes out and comes scything through the air towards your chest.

Torak: Looking around to see if the others needed healing was a big mistake which you only realize only too late as you feel something coil around your arms and chest, completely stopping the use of your arms. Looking to see what it is you find that your feet are no longer touching the ground as the long snake line neck of one of the hydra's heads lifts you off the ground, bringing you towards the main mass of gaping, serrated fang filled mouths. Unable to swing your weapon you have no choice to use every ounce of your Dwarven Strength to try and force the coils lose, either that or call for one of the other apprentices to cut off the head wrapped around you.

Kell: The Hydra head coming straight for you slams straight into your chest, knocking you clean off your feet and throwing you several meters through the air before you crash to the ground. Now that you are downed the Hydra seems to ignore you and turns the rest of its attention to the other Apprentices which will eventually be its undoing if you are able to ignore the sharp pain running through your spine and attack it from behind. As you struggle to catch your breath from the hit the hydra gave you, you can see that the hydra now has the dwarf Torak caught in the coils of one of its long necks and seems to be getting ready to eat him. As you push yourself to your feet something wooden lands next to you. Looking to see what it is, you can see that it is some form of rifle and that the one who had thrown it appears to have been Modeus as the High Lord is throwing weapons out of a large create and into the arena.

Bjor: The Hydra's tail catapults you across the arena and into the wall just below Modeus who appears to be throwing weapons into the ring after pulling them out from a strange looking chest. The High Lord then leans over the edge of the side of the area and looks down at you with a smile on his face. "Not dead yet then? thats good. Now up you get and go in to attack it again" As the Modeus says this he throws something down which slams into the ground a mere inch away from your left foot. Looking to see what it is, you can see a large two handed dual-headed axe with purple evel writing all down its haft. Whether you take the axe or not is up to you, though if the High Lord has given it to you then he must know what he is doing.

Avariss: Even though you have conjured darkness around the Hydra is merely lets out a strange shrieking like cackle as its massive tail comes swinging around and barely misses your face by an inch, even though it may not be able to see Hydra's have a excellent sense of smell and hearing, so when you times that by the number of heads it has then its very unlikely that its going to miss. Though both yours and the mages fire balls fly into the darkness and let of small explosions as they hit you get the feeling that it isn't affecting the hydra as he slowly stops out, its charred wounds and heads ripple before they regenerate, clearly this is no normal hydra that Modeus has caught. It may be wise to gather up the other apprentices and cloak yourself in darkness as you rethink your strategy 

Everyone: As it seems the Hydra is almost immune to all of your attacks you can here a laugh from the starts that sounds like someone who has truly lost their mind and is in a fit of laughter. If you look you can see Modeus with his head thrown back, his back arched and his mouth open laughing to his hearts content, he then returns to normal and slams his hand on the edge of the stands. "Close the gates, my apprentices must remain within the area until they finish this fight!" as the High Lord finishes his sentence all entrances and exists to the arena pit are closed by the dwarves of the Ironhammer clan. The High Lord then places one foot on the edge of stands and leans forward, waving his left hand straight out to the side another bolted arena pit cage door opens. With a booming laughter like rolling thunder heavy foot steps can be heard coming out of the cage at the far end away from you and the others. You all get the feeling that The High Lord intends for you not to survive this fight.//the new threat will be revealed in the next update.


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## Chocobuncle

Following the rest of the group behind Lord Modeus, Yeta began to think how different these caves were from the forests of his home. He wondered how small beings such as the dwarves were able to live underground and yet still make almost mystic structures that could be found all over the walls and the door and gates themselves of Kel'Karadorn. Then wonders if the dwaves home is this strange, how the other races of the world must live and begins to ponder during the long walk which made Yeta feel anxious about what would come next.

Having seen Modeus talk to the other apprentices of the group Yeta watched silently their behavior, he noticed the dwarf and the very large human seemed aggressive, savage, but had a sense of power with them. The high elf was always fiddling with his book which almost he seem fascinated with. The dark elf was very very strange he had never seen someone quite like him, it was like he was talking with someone else, someone not there, then Yeta wondered if he might be talking with the spirits or some other being invisible to the rest of them. Finally after a long walk the group stopped before a magnificent door which had no handles to be opened with but only a hole which the Lord so calmly fit his entire arm into. After the sounds of clicking the gate did not open like any other he had seem before in the stronghold, it opened going through the ceiling above them. Lord Modeus turns to them and only says *"Time for you to pick your dragon eggs."* walking into them room.

When Yeta looked inside he saw a whole room filled with the dragon eggs of all different colors and some with different protrusions coming out of them each with a fire under them. As the group walked forward again Yeta noticed all the different dwarves looking upon the many different eggs inside the massive room. But looking again at Lord Modeus he sees fourteen different eggs, then Modeus begins to explain _*"These are the dragon eggs that are the closest to hatching at the moment, so it is up to you to pick one of these twelve that will eventually hatch into your dragon. Depending on which one you pick depends on the species of dragon you get. Now choose carefully as you will be expected to care for this dragon until it is able to look after itself in two years time, and it is at that age it will be the size where you are able to ride it. Is that understood?"*_.

With that the Lord steps aside and sees the other choosing their eggs at will, without the notice of the others Yeta begins to walk towards the furthest egg on the right. Yeta didn't even know what he was doing, it was as if he was possessed by some force, something that called him towards this egg without even thinking. As he came close to the egg he placed both his hands upon the egg, closed his eyes, and felt the natural force within it, it was something he had never felt, a whole wave of sensation which overwhelmed him. The spirits had chosen for him to be with this dragon. *"Let natures will be with us."*, Yeta said and walked back to where the group was standing again. 

After Lord Modeus tells the dwarves inside the hold to take away the eggs Yeta calmly smiled at the egg that would be his, he felt honored to given the responsibility of life, in his hands he would raise that dragon just like he was raised by the spirits and nature around him. As the follow the Lord out some more gates leading into another tunnel and tells them that their training would begin now, learning how to fight with their dragons, history of dragons and the world in general. After being lead into small doors compared to the rest he had seen before into an arena of colossal magnitude the Lord Modeus said *"Now I'm going to throw you into the deep end with your combat training so i want you all to do your best!" * hearing a large screeching noise almost similar but still distinctively different from dragons the group of apprentices turn to see a giant beast of fifteen heads, Yeta had never seen before and after hearing the high elf call the beast a hydra fear once again was pierced into his heart.

Seeing the dwarf run towards the beast and the rest of the group fighting the monster with such zeal, Yeta himself had never fought something this big or wild besides the green dragon which he barley escaped and not unharmed. As he watched in wonder how they could even hold off a beast, Yeta had not noticed that one of the hydras heads already began to target him with its giant razor shape teeth and at the last second raised a wall of solid stone which could rival a gate of the dwarves to block the attack. But to anvil the monsters head smashed through it with ease and flung Yeta across the room bouncing him off the floor and walls of the stadium. After getting up from being dazed by such an attack Yeta could still see the rest of the group fighting the monster, while safely away by a great distance Yeta began to use Summon Nature Spirits to summon the aid of the Earth elements to fight the beast.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat heard the voice call out to him. It was the warlock. True much of his training had taught him the fel arts were not to be trusted there must have been a reason the High Lord had chose this one. In the trials and battles to come there would need to be trust, and teamwork. The high elf launched a ball of flame into the body near the base of several necks. “Ready when you are,” Uthiat shouted as he formed a quick pattern in his mind.

Darkness suddenly engulfed the thing. “_Start firing now!_” the warlock shouted. Uthiat hoped everyone was out of his line of attack. One hand whipped forward releasing a ball of flame as large as a human head. If it caught a neck it would most likely destroy most of the flesh. His other hand flashed up sending another ball into the darkness. The elf paced himself sending another pair of balls toward center mass of the creature. He couldn’t afford to expend too much.

The hydra stumbled out from behind the darkness. As it did two heads appeared from where Uthiat had sealed the wound. “Oh my,” he said backing up several paces. From the side of the pit there was laughter. Modeus was howling with laughter. _"Close the gates, my apprentices must remain within the area until they finish this fight!” _This man was insane! “What manner of beast is this then,” Uthiat shouted, “It most certainly is not a normal hydra.”

As the elf spoke there was a whoosh as a massive tail swung toward him. Uthiat quickly reacted. He dropped to the ground. The tail managed to hit his shoulder as he dropped. It wasn’t a break, but it would hurt for some time. Uthiat quickly stood after he slid several feet and retreated several yards gripping his arm. Somehow he expected Modeus to give him some kind of a nonsense answer. As he glanced to the others he saw the dark elf tossing things from a crate. “Oh yes,” Uthiat said quietly as he tested his arm, “makes perfect sense now.”

As Uthiat listened for Modeus’s reply one of the heads turned to him. With a howl it shot out. The high elf reacted. The head missed by several inches as the elf dove to one side. As he rolled a ball of flames formed in his left hand. It was little more than the size of an apple but it didn’t need to be much bigger than that. The head was pulling back as the flame caught it in the eye. Uthiat was already diving again as the head thrashed, and screamed. Whatever this thing was they needed to know more before they could effectively kill it.

As the elf glanced around he saw another open cage. “Oh yes,” Uthiat said turning back to the immediate foe, “deep end indeed.” He said preparing for more. At this rate the high elf wouldn’t last much longer. He needed to find a better way to fight these things.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor grunted as the tail hit him square in the chest and threw him across the fighting arena. Pain flared up as he hit the wall and fell to the ground, he spit out blood as he picked himself up, a red haze slowly beginning to fill his vision. The haze was only broken by one thing, the beast attacking the other apprentices, but something fell from the sky and landed in front of him at his feet. His crazed eyes shot towards it to take it in and he realized it was a two-handed double-edged axe, its metal had strange purple etchings on it that looke somewhat evil.

He did not care what they meant, the Lord Modeus had thrown it in at him so he would use it to fell this beast. He threw his own weapons down and pulled the two-headed axe out of the ground before raising it and charging the Hydra, bellowing in anger as he ran full speed at the beast. 

He reached it in seconds and swung the large axe out at the neck that had the dwarf caught in its coils, the head of the axe slicing through it easily as if through butter. The beast screamed and reared up as the neck and head holding the dwarf fell to the floor, but Bjor was already attacking it slicing out at its chest in an effort to get to its heart. The axe bit deep and cut a huge gouge in its chest but he had to roll away or else get eaten by one of its many heads, instead slicing at the tendon he had already attacked and cutting it completely through.

The tendon flailed violently as the beast screamed in pain, Bjor dodging the tail in time to slice another head off.


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## warsmith7752

The tendrils came from nowhere, one second he was surveying the group the next he was upside down with his arms bound. Torak cursed to himself, his laziness was the thing that would probably kill him. He began to thrash wildly, his arms stayed in place. Torak spat on his arm in an attempt to lubricate his arm so he could slide it out. It didn't work. "I AM NOT DYING HERE, CURSES IF I DO" he ground the words in his teeth through frustration and strain.

The dwarf turned and sank his teeth into the green scaly head, the creature squealed but the grip did not loosen. Torak let himself hang loose, he needed to think of something before his arms lost circulation. He waggled his arms furiously, hoping his hammer was long enough to hit the scaly beast. It was no use, The dwarf saw no other option other than to thrash around wildly and hope the hydra would tire or another of the warriors would assist him.

His plea was answered, bjors axe thudded into the scaly tendril. His hammer arm went loose, he swung against the other tendril shattering bones and grinding flesh until he was let loose.

"thanks is for later, I'm going to attack the things limbs and body."

With that Torak raced off in the beasts direction, a head hit into the ground mere inches away from his arm, it's left eye had been taken out by someone and a large gash ran down it's neck. Torak charged his hammer with holy power and swung manically at the injured head. It buckles under the blow, the already breached eye socket was shattered exposing soft brain tissue that was crushed by the hammer blow. The dwarf kept running, he heard manic laughter coming from the high lords direction.

"Close the gates, my apprentices must remain within the area until they finish this fight!"

The dark elf seemed demented, he was almost entertained by his apprentices struggles. Torak made a mental note to ask the high lord about that.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell spun the swords in his hands and yelled "Come on then! Give me your best shot!" Ready to sever as many heads as was needed. Unfortunaetly the Hydra head coming for him *did* give him his best shot and slammed into his chest. Kell felt his feet leave the ground and the curious sensation of flying, only backwards. He flew about fifteen feet through the air beofre he crashed into the ground, skidding along the ground for a few more feet for good measure.

He blinked a few times to clear the stars out of his eyes and groaned as he pushed himself back to his feet. Swaying slightly with an intense pain running down his back, he groggily looked up to see how the fight was going. 

It wasn't the best situation he had ever seen. Bjor had just been hit by the Hydras tail and just like Kell, had been thrown a considerable distance across the arena. The mages were both trying to co-ordinate spells with each other, but it didn't appear to be having a lasting effect. Torak was the worst off, one of the many heads holding him above the ground by its long neck.

Then with a clatter something landed at his feet. Looking down he saw it was a repeater rifle of sorts. He looked up into the stands to see Modeus throwing various weapons into the arena. Hooking his foot under the rifle he expertly flicked the rifle up to his hands. Bjor had taken hold of a weapon that Modeus had thrown down to him and used it to free Torak.

Kell raised the rifle and fired at the nearest head, exploding its skull with a suprising amount of power. Cocking the rifle he killed another three heads in quick succesion. But even as he destroyed the fourth head, the first had already grown two more to replace the lost one. "Shit" Kell muttered and continued firing, blasting off another two heads before realising he was only making the situation work. 

"Any helpful ideas from the floor?!" He yelled out. 

"It most certainly is not a normal hydra." Uthiat replied.

"Well thanks for that, anything that might actually help us?!" Kell shouted back.

He then heard someone starting to laugh maniaclly, looking up to the stands he saw Modeus almost falling over with laughter. "Right........." Kell said "What so entertaining chuckles?" Moedus didn't reply to his question. instead he slammed his hands onto the edge of the stands and cried out "Close the gates, my apprentices must remain within the area until they finish this fight!" and with that all the exists slammed shut. But then with a wave of Modeus hand, another heavy door was thrown open. 

Kell heard something else stiring inside. He looked up at Modeus and yelled "Oh come on!"


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## komanko

The darkness, it was spiraling around the hydra like the void itself. It seemed to envelope the creature completely surrounding it in impenetrable darkness. Everyone continued attacking the creature, Avariss and the mage firing their spells at it and the others attacking it physically. Yet after a moment of confusion the Hydra let out a shriek which resembled a weird laugh, and then the Hydra’s tail came swinging through the air quickly, creating a smooth sound as it penetrated the air quickly. Avariss had no time to dodge and was already preparing to receive the hit but luckily the tail passed right near his nose, the tails spikes scratching it lightly but then continuing back to the Hydra. Although the darkness did not make the Hydra weaker in any way it saved Avariss from a vicious hit.

Only then Avariss remembered that Hydra’s and many other god forsaken monsters have sharpened senses, this resulted in the darkness to be useless against it as it still could hear and smell the enemies. To preserve his strength Avariss canceled his maintainable darkness and started thinking in hope to come up with some sort of a plan to battle the mighty creature. He was awoken from his thoughts when some of the fire bolts managed to hit the Hydra causing it pain but no real damage as like before the charred heads grew back and doubled. This was a problem because if they would continue in this course of action they will be overwhelmed by a huge amount of enemies which will only continue to grow.	

While Avariss was rethinking his actions again he noticed that none of the attacks preformed made any real and permanent damage. While looking at the Hydra he heard a maniacal laugh, looking back to where the laugh came from he saw Modeus bursting in an uncontrollable and mad laugh. “*He lost his mind…*” The Voice said, “*On the other hand, some may see that we also did…*” Avariss answered yet the Voice replied again “*Who!? Who said that we are mad!? We are NOT!*” Avariss sighed while luckily dodging another tail swing, *“Now, is not the time for your games…*” The Voice clearly thought what he is going to say and then answered, “*Fine!*” and disappeared like it always does. Looking at Modeus again Avariss could clearly see that the man enjoyed watching them fighting for their life… This gave a better view of the dark Modeus which was glimpsing here and there behind his happy mask. Then a change of heart came as Modeus slammed his fist on the edge of the stands and shouted, “*Close the gates, my apprentices must remain within the area until they finish this fight!*" As soon as Modeus shouts the sentence dwarves appear from nowhere and close the gates to the arena, locking the apprentices inside to fight for their life. Soon after that Modeus waved his hand at another bolted door and it started opening too. “*Great like this was not enough!*” Avariss muttered angrily. A thought passed his mind, a thought that said that it was better to stay at his house near the border, he was safer there. Yet he quickly removed such thoughts from his mind, it clearly was better here in the company of people then in the company of twisted creatures and savage beasts. As the new door slowly opened a loud laugh could be heard, the sound was low and booming and then the footsteps began, they came from the far end of the cage but they would soon arrive in the entrance. This gave them less and less time. To stall the new threat Avariss threw another darkness spell at the entrance of the new threat’s cage. Hopefully it will confuse the thing inside for a while longer.

Avariss concentrated at the Hydra again but it was too late as one of the heads came flying towards him and smashed into his chest knocking him down and throwing him about two meters away. He shouted in pain as the head smashed into him and then he fell, rolling a bit on the ground trying to stop the smash’s force. The Hydra was indeed a tough and powerful foe. Maybe they would have more time if the Hydra wasn’t so mobile, “*Hopefully the legs won’t grow again.*” Avariss muttered as he fired several bolts of fel fire into the Hydra’s legs and tail hoping to destroy its legs or at least hurt its balance as most of the tailed creatures used their tale for balance.


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## revan4559

Yeta: As you use the summon earth elemental spell the ground infront of you starts to crack and crumble as he raises itself up and morphs into a ten foot earth elemental with obsidian gems for eyes. Its rocky head then turns to face you as if waiting for orders before then turning to look at the hydra and then the other open door. Charging off with large and ground shaking foot falls it runs towards the open door to confront the new opponent. Disappearing into the shadows there is a large explosion like thunder and the earth elemental comes flying out of the door way before fragmenting into pieces. What ever is behind that door is strong enough to destroy and earth elemental in one hit. You will need to rethink your strategy about using spells against these two creatures. You also feel very tired after expending so much energy to summon and elemental of earth.

Everyone: The laughing from the High Lord stops as he stands there looking at you all with a disappointed look on his face. "You can all do better than this, or i wouldn't of chosen you all to become my apprentices. Here is some Advice, use the weapons im throwing into the arena and work TOGETHER." The High Lord then shifts his gaze to look at Uthiat as he asks a question.

Uthiat: The High look shifts his attention to you when you ask him what kind of Hydra it is. "Well my apprentice as you have guessed correctly that is no normal hydra. It is infact a Hydra i have captured that used to dwell within the dark lands, so its abilities and body have become twisted by Evil, making it even stronger and deadlier. Now may i suggest that you limit your fire balls as thats only making it angrier and you, the druid, paladin and warlock and spending FAR to much energy in your magical attacks." With that hint from the High Lord it may be wise to try and attack it with something else other than magic. If you look around you, you can see an elven sword laying several feet from you with golden glyphs written along the side saying "Serpent Bane", summarizing that a hydra may be some form of Serpent it wouldn't hurt to try attacking it with it.

Bjor: Each time your new axe connects with the hydra and draws blood the glyphs on the haft of the axe seem to be getting brighter and brighter as the hydra's blood on the blade of the weapon is absorbed into the blade itself, it seems the High Lord has given you some kind of vampiric weapon. Another thing you notice is that the more blood the weapon 'drinks' the stronger and faster you feel, at the rate at which you feel you are getting stronger you feel like you could pop one of the hydra's heads off with nothing but your bear hands(feel free to try that if you wish xD). Though it seems wiser to continue using the axe the High Lord has given you for now.

Everyone: You all notice that the wounds inflicted by Bjor's new axe aren't being regenerated by the Hydra. It seems that it would be indeed the best if you go and grab one of the weapons Modeus has thrown into the arena.

Torak: Keeping up the holy magic coursing through your weapon starts to take its toll as you feel your strength start to fade and your reflexes become slower, it may be a good idea to stop using magic like the High Lord suggested and try another means of attacking the hydra. If you look around you can see another hammer planted in the ground head first with Dwarven runes all the way up the shaft. Reading them you can see that the weapon is called "Hammer of Thunder's Fury", and you can see why it has its name. Coursing all the way around the head of the hammer lightning and sparks flicker, this appears to be a magical weapon that the High Lord has collected during his travels. You decide it is a very good idea to use this hammer until the both of the beasts are defeated as it appears to be stronger than your own.

Kell: The High Lord shifts his attention to you when you ask him what is funny. "Well Kell, what is funny is that the six of you are having great difficulty against a simply opponent like a Hydra. How are you all going to stand up to the other monsters i have captured and even the dragons ill be having you fight later?" With that the High Lord yawns then sits down on one of the stand benches, having clearly gotten bored with standing. Looking around the arena you can see two long swords which have a blue and red blade instead of the normal silver colour. Written in plain common(human) along the blades are their names: "Twin fangs of the dragon". The red blade seems to be letting off quite abit of head and the blue blade seems to be cooling down the air around it, maybe its time to use them instead of your normal swords and the rifle.

Avariss: The fel fireballs doesn't really do any damage to the scales and flesh of the Hydra itself, but the force of the impacts against its legs combined with Bjor cutting off one of them forces the Hydra off balance as it falls onto its side and lets out a loud shriek as its heads all wheel around to look at you to let out a hiss before he starts to force its way back up onto its three remaining legs. It may be a good idea to follow what the others are doing and look for one of the strange magical weapons that the High Lord has been throwing into the ring. If you look around you can see that a rather odd scythe has been throw into the ring, it has a long straight shaft with a skull like symbol on the obsidian coloured blade. Written in dark purple elven writings is its name "Reaper of Sorrows".

Everyone: As the Hydra starts to right itself after being knocked down thanks to Bjor and Avariss the shaking of the ground starts to become worse as the resident of the other open change finally appears through the darkness which Avariss had conjured. It is a monstrously large giant with two heads and wielding a large wooden club which just appears to have been a tree torn out of the ground. Letting out another bellowing laugh it charges over towards the group and the Hydra with its club raised in its right hand. What is different about this giant is the fact its appearance appears to be warped and corrupted as giants are only meant to have one head and pale skin while this giant has two heads and a charcoal black skin colour.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat glanced to the blade as he heard Modeus’s response. His eyes flashed from the blade to the dark elf, and then back. “Oh yes,” he said quietly running to the blade, “why not.” The blade felt odd in his hand. For the past decades the only weapon the elf had held was a walking stick. “Give a mage a sword.” He tested the blade with a single swing. What little he could remember was from watching guards, or from years before when his parents had insisted on lessens. The sword was light in his grip. Hopefully he would be able to do well enough with it.

The northman caught Uthiat’s glance. His blade was carving bloody swaths in the hydra. It was the wounds that caught his attention. They were open, and bleeding with no sign of regeneration. The high elf swallowed and charged in. His movements with the new weapon were very unsure as though he had very rarely handled a bladed weapon let alone use one. From time to time Uthiat had read books about fencing and swordplay, but they did little to prepare him for this moment.

The thing had fallen to the ground. Uthiat quickly moved toward Bjor. This form of combat was not the elf’s forte. Then came the laughter and booming footfalls. Uthiat spun to see the giant. Two heads and black skin quite possibly another of the things the dark elf brought from the dark lands. “One emergency at a time,” he whispered turning back to the hydra, “or perhaps…”

Uthiat glanced to the others. Serpent Bane, he thought, I hope this works. “We need to place this beast between us and that giant,” he said swinging the blade at a flailing neck. There was resistance, the thing howled. The northman continued his brutal assault for a moment longer. There was insanity in his eyes. Uthiat swung again creating a gash in another neck.

The northman howled as he turned toward the giant. It was rather a shock to the elf. This man was insane. Uthiat stabbed at the hydra as he saw Bjor charge. Attempts at tactics flashed in his mind, but none would make sense. The elf wrenched his blade out of the hydra and he ran toward the rear of the thing. He dove past a flailing tail and spun to the giant. "Avariss," he shouted preparing his own spell, "the eyes, or face. Blind that beast!" A small fireball was launched toward one head as the giant prepared to swing. Uthiat prayed that this worked, then maybe whatever the northman had planned would succeed.


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## Chocobuncle

Yeta saw at Modeus threw weapons into the arena towards the others and looked back at the blob of black that so easily destroyed his earth golem. What came out shocked him, a giant being with two heads covered in a dark thick skin wielding what he was sure was a tree. As the other apprentices were splitting to attack the two great creatures Yeta focused his attention to the new threat. Before the human giant charged the beast he called the spirits to aid him and hold down the beast summoning the floor to swallow its feet to further it from moving.

As the beast looked confused at the situation he was in, Yeta called upon the elements again to carry boulders out of the ground and throw them at the monsters grotesque heads to wound and daze it. He then focused all his attention and concentration on the beasts feet so he wouldn't be able to easily break free. Yeta could feel the weakness from using so many spells and to keep his current one up and wouldn't be able to go on for much longer without resting.


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## komanko

The fiendish green fireballs flew into the Hydra and impacted against its chest and some heads yet none of them did real damage but the final fireball hit the Hydra in its leg and with Bjor’s strong and pressing attack at the same time the Hydra fell down on the ground raising a wave of dust from it. It was shrieking madly and venomously towards Bjor and Avariss who together managed to trip it and cut one of its legs. The heads of the Hydra swirled across the room trying to bite in anything nearby while the thing was pulling itself up, it seemed extremely annoyed and even more angry then before yet there was a bright side to all of this the wounds which were inflicted by Bjor did not seem to heal by themselves as they did before from the regular attacks. The only conclusion was that it must have been a magical weapon that Modeus had given him…

While they were all fighting for their life against the vile thing Modeus’s laugh finally stopped as he began mocking them and pointing that he chose them because they can do better than that. Yet there was no time to reply or to think of something else to attack the Hydra with as it seemed to be getting back to its feet pretty quickly. Avariss looked at the others to see if they had any brilliant ideas of how to deal with that thing, and then he saw some of them picking up the weapons which Modeus threw into the arena, “*It won’t hurt to try… Hopefully*” Avariss thought to himself. Looking around he saw a weird looking scythe, one of the many weapons Modeus threw into the arena, it was just a few steps away from Avariss and he began approaching it. Suddenly something swung above him, luckily missing Avariss’s head. Looking again he saw that the Hydra did not like the weapon and was trying to keep him away from it by throwing random attacks at him. Avariss began to run towards the weapon as heads were swirling around him trying to snap him to pieces. As he continued on one of the heads came in front of him blocking his path with its head but wasting no time Avariss blasted the head to pieces with a fel fireball, it will create an even greater danger yet he just needed to get to the weapon and the explosion gave him time.

Rolling on the floor Avariss finally reached the Scythe, it was weird from afar and even weirder from close. It was colored black and the blade itself was made out of obsidian with an oddly carved skull symbol in it. Taking another quick look at the scythe Avariss saw that letters were engraved in elvish on the weapons blade, they were glowing in dark purple which gave the scythe a menacing look, reading the letters three words were formed, they were saying “Reaper of Sorrows”. Smiling evilly Avariss picked the scythe and swung it in a wide arc trying to cut as many of the Hydra’s body parts which were heading to him. While he was busy with that, he heard the ground shake and looked aside while swinging; the sight which was revealed to him was terrifying as a huge two headed giant appeared out of the conjured darkness. The thing was wielding a torn out tree as a weapon and it was swinging it wildly while laughing with a low bellowing voice. The giant itself was easily identified as a mutated or corrupted one, as its features were far more terrible then of the normal giants. Nonetheless those two threats had to be dealt with and the giant took the first step in ending the conflict by charging towards them and the Hydra. Avariss had an idea but he heard Uthiat shouting to him to blind the giant as he had some sort of a plan and thus Avairss proceeded. Trying to not get hurt by the Hydra’s attacks and also casting a conjuration spell is not an easy thing to do after all and Avariss gathered all his strength and wits to hopefully succeed in casting a timely darkness that will follow the Giant’s two heads. He really hoped that it would hope…

P.S As I told you I have an English project to finish so forgive me for the not well written post.


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## warsmith7752

Torak rolled underneath a strike from the hydras claw and swung his hammer into the joint. Torak groaned at the bones resilience, the dwarf had learnt from his mistake and had decided to keep on the move. He emerged from under the hydra before having something fairly heavy land on top of his head. Torak stood for some number of seconds clearing his head before another giant green scaly boulder slammed into him. He flew four feet before landing shakily on his feet and letting out another groan. "if I had a canon......" grumbled the irritated dwarf.

He looked about to see various weapons being thrown into the arena Bjor was doing immense damage to the hydra with a strange looking weapon that Torak was sure he did not start with. Others had also began to pick weapons from the ground and were begging to have a serious effect on the beast. Determined not to be outdone Torak picked up the closest weapon to him, it was a two handed hammer with swirling runes dancing elegantly in the light. Torak ran to the hammer and picked it up,he felt a slight shock as he grasped the smooth cool metal. He gave it a test swing as he moved towards the hydra, its weight was good and well balanced. A finely crafted hammer but Torak had no doubt his own folk would do a better job.

Torak once again beside the hydras leg determined to break the bone. He gave his new hammer a swing at the leg, it struck home with a brilliant blue flash, in Toraks eyes the hammer slowed down just before it hit the hydra. In between the metal and the scales a small blue spark ignited and spread out into a jagged arc and then multiply. In reality however this was seen as a single explosion of blue. The hydras bone snapped forcing a scream of pain from the beasts belly.

Torak allowed himself a split second of satisfaction before he went on to completely demolish the leg so the hydra could not even move. During this brutal assault was when the giant appeared, Torak was so intent on his target he didn't notice until he heard the thing bellow at the group. He turned to see the giant swing what looked like a tree in bjors general direction. "this looks like a challenge fit for a dwarf!" muttered Torak as he picked himself up and ran towards the gaint. Bjor had already done damage to it but the paladin did not concentrate on where the wounds were. Torak gave one last burst of speed before leaping into the air as far as his dwarven body would allow it. This took Torak up to about waist height where he swung his hammer which thudded into the giants crotch. (OOC: sorry I couldn't resist) the thing yelled out at Torak and swung the tree at the dwarf who narrowly avoided it and hit the ground. He turned to Bjor and said "do you want top or bottom then?"


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor was moving as swiftly as the wind now, his every movement a blur as he danced around the hydra, the axe swinging with every slight movement of his body. He had realized that the axe that the Lord Modeus had given him was of vampiric nature for every time he drew the hydra's blood it was sucked into the head and the purple runes would get slightly brighter. At first he hadnt paid it any heed, that was until he had noticed how quickly he was moving and how much stronger his blows were becoming.

He thought of ripping a head off with his bare hands but decided not to, he figured it was the axe that was giving him this strength and he did not want to part with it and have his new strength taken from him and make him vulnerable. He roared as he saw Torak shatter the hydra's bones in its legs and dodged a head before slicing his axe through its neck, he spun quick and hacked another head in half as it shot out at him. He was in the midst of its heads, hacking and slashing as he fought to cut every one off, a task that minutes before would have seemed almost impossible. 

There was a sudden pain in his left arm and he turned to see a head just starting to bite down on his huge arm. He bellowed in rage before bringing the axe around with his other hand and slamming the blade into one of its eyes, the creature opened its mouth to screech in pain but Bjor would not allow it to get away so easily. In his rage he tore the axe out, eye juice spraying all over him, and slammed it into the neck just below the head. He ripped it out and did three more times while gripping its jaw and pulling as he hacked at it, soon he began to hear a gurgle and with a roar he tore the head from what was left of its neck, a fountain of gore covering his chest and face as he tossed the head.

A neck swung at him and he ducked and rolled backwards as he noticed a huge giant weilding....a tree? Another beast to slay. Torak lept at the creature and slammed a hammer of thunder into its crotch, something that brought a large smile to Bjor's face, the dwarf was growing on him. The short one looked at him as he backed away from the beast's return swing and said,_ "Do you want the top or the bottom?"_

For the first time in the fight Bjor laughed,* "I'll take the head on the right, you get the left."* and with that he charged, his new found strength powering him forward as he bellowed at the beast. It turned its heads to look at him as it fought to free its legs from the roots taking them over, the tree lashing out and slamming into thin air as it missed him. He hoped the dwarf would take advantage of the distraction he was creating, if he did not then this kill would be Bjor's, his axe swinging at the side of its gut and slicing through the black skin with ease.


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## revan4559

Uthiat: Upon grabbing ahold of the sword called Serpents Bane, the runes along its blade blaze into life and somehow force you to grip the hilt tighter as if the blade has a will of its own. The blade then seems to instinctively pull you towards the Hydra and near enough forces you to attack the beast with reckless abandon, you may end up regretting picking up this sword if he hates serpent creatures like Hydra's this much, but with each slash of the sword in your hand it opens up wounds on the hydra that do not seal. The hydra itself appears to be slowing down in its movements and attacks as all of its now opens wounds take its toll, after having one of its legs pulverized by Torak's new hammer the beast let out an ear piercing scream before shifting all its weight onto its front lets and starts to drag itself back to its cage. Leaving you to now turn your attention to the giant.

Everyone: After being heavily wounded through your combined efforts the Hydra slowly drags its large bleeding and battered body back into its pen where the doors quickly shut after it and the bolt closes aswell, locking the beast inside leaving only the giant to deal with.

Yeta: As the boulders are launched from the ground at the giant by the elemental spirits the Giant looks at them and grunts before using the tree-club to bat them away before looking back down at his feet before pulling them both out of the ground leaving two craters, the giant only managed to do this because your energy was being sapped from having to cast high level spells and maintaining the elements that were trying to hold it in place. It may be a good idea now to follow what the others are doing and grab one of the weapons that was thrown into the ring by the High Lord to use to fight the giant, looking around you can see a sort of staff and sword combination. The top half of the weapon appears to be a normal staff with a green gem sitting on the top of it, and the lower half is a straight blade with green elven runes etched into it, you can't make out what they say unless you get closer.

Avariss: Conjuring the darkness around the Giants heads the massive creature stops in its tracks as it tries to figure out why everything has done dark. The giant then just starts to blindly lash out with his massive tree-club just hoping to connect with something and kill it, but what is also making this dangerous is that the giant is taking random steps and could easily stand on you or one of the others if you don't pay close attention to its feet while watching its club. You then decide you may aswell try and get closer to the giant and cut the back of its ankle to try and slice through some of its tendons and nerves that may end up making it collapse down onto one knee which will making fighting it alot easier.

Torak: The hydra has now dragged itself back into its pen leaving you all to concentrate on the giant, thanks to a spell from the dark elf warlock the giant is now blinded thanks to conjured darkness around both of its heads but that is making it dangerous for you as the smallest of the group because the giant is randomly stomping his feet into the ground, each time narrowly missing you. It would be a very good idea to try and co-ordinate some sort of attack plan against this giant as last time you really only beat the hydra through luck and the high lord giving you some new weapons to use, but unlike the hydra this giant appears not to be immune to any spells cast on it which may make the mage's, warlock's and druid's job abit easier while you, the north-man and the other human attack it with your weapons.

Bjor: As your axe slices into the black skin of the giant it howls with rage but before your axe can go any further in someone clamps around your weapon arm, looking to see what it is you can see the large black hand of the giant, pulling the axe out of its gut along with your arm the giant easily lifts you up by your arm until its staring you in the face, or it would if the dark elf warlock hadn't conjured darkness around of its heads, getting the feeling that the giant may end up attempting to eat you, you decide it beast to change your axe into your other hand and hack off its fingers. After doing so you start to drop down to the ground but luckily manage to plant your axe into the chest-plate of the giant which allows you to remain hanging there until you can find a better way down.(Be inventive on how you try and attack the giant now).

Kell: The High Lord shifts his attention to you when you ask him what is funny. "Well Kell, what is funny is that the six of you are having great difficulty against a simply opponent like a Hydra. How are you all going to stand up to the other monsters i have captured and even the dragons ill be having you fight later?" With that the High Lord yawns then sits down on one of the stand benches, having clearly gotten bored with standing. Looking around the arena you can see two long swords which have a blue and red blade instead of the normal silver colour. Written in plain common(human) along the blades are their names: "Twin fangs of the dragon". The red blade seems to be letting off quite abit of head and the blue blade seems to be cooling down the air around it, maybe its time to use them instead of your normal swords and the rifle.

Extraxi: Having arrived late to High Dragon Hold you are quickly taken to pick your egg which is then taken to your room and then lead to a massive underground arena where you can see six other apprentices doing battle with a massive strange looking giant, not being able to get into the Arena to join them you can see that the High Lord Modeus is sat on one of the benches observing the battle. The High Lord is in his usual dark purple and obsidian coloured armour and is currently letting his hair hang loosely around his face while his purple eyes boredly shift from the battle to some dwarves who just appeared next to him. You decide it would be best to go and apologize for being late and maybe ask the high lord what is going on.


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## Santaire

Extraxi walked slowly up the mountain path leading to High Dragon Hold. He guessed he was late for he had fought not 1 but 2 dragons on his way, and both had slowed him down as he had needed to hide for 3 hours before he could move on. He brushed the leaves off his clothes and looked at the mighty fortress. "Might as well go in," he said to himself but first he examined it, wondering if he could break in, or out as the case may be. what he saw was a vast fortress built by dwarven hands and that there were no ways in. He examined the windows but they were high in the steep cliff face. He shrugged and muttered "wonder if it is to keep people out, or apprentices in." He knocked on the door and a dwarf peered out. "I am here to see Lord Modeus," he said in answer to the unspoken question. "Well your bloody late," the dwarf replied gruffly as he pulled back the vast door. 

Extraxi reacted with awe at his surroundings as he was taken through the vast fortress to the room containing the remainder of the dragon eggs, he walked slowly along them gazing at and handling each in turn. He came to the last one and felt a chillness in his fingers that reminded him of home. Extraxi picked up the egg and it was immediately taken from him by another dwarf, he grudgingly gave it to him and then was lead through yet another huge door and told to put his stuff in the third room on the right. He took a moment to examine his surroundings. The room was small with a bed, a set of drawers and a window set high in the wall, nothing luxurious, just how he liked for it was luxury that had driven him away from his home and his family and luxury that had killed his brother. He sat for a while, remembering the day when he found his dear younger brother's corpse in a snow bear cave. He dropped his bags and then walked in the direction indicated by the older drwarf. He passed through massive corridors hung with tapestries before coming into a grand arena where the other apprentices were busy fighting a massive, strange looking giant, he wished he could join them but a barrier prevented him. He felt his anger building but swiftly quenched it, the high lord would not approve he reasoned if he started a fight to help others, not a good strategy. He also noticed a crippled Hydra dragging itself back to it's cage.

He saw Modeus sitting in the stands, seemingly enjoying the apprentices struggles. The dragon lord was wearing his customary dark purple and obsidian coloured armour and had his hair hanging loosely around his face while his purple eyes boredly shifted from the battle to some dwarves who just appeared next to him. He walked over to the dragon rider, "my lord," he said quietly. "What," snapped Modeus. "I apologise for being late Lord Modeus but I was attacked by 2 dragons on my way and the need to hide or otherwise be torn into bloody ribbons slowed me down a little," he said, thinking that if the high lord expected grovelling he would be disappointed. "I should punish you shouldn't I," mused Modeus. Silently in wonder at the obvious lack of emotion the high lord showed when giving that statement he replied "That is for you to decide, but before you do so please tell me what is going on down there."


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Runes along the blade flared to life as Uthiat attacked the hydra. His hand seemed to grip on its own as the sword lunged toward its prey. The elf followed the blade almost mesmerized by this thing. Weapons like this were rather rare even in myth and lore. Perhaps this thing was possessed? It seemed like that would be right as the blade began to swing.

Against the hydra the blade offered no defense. The blade seemed to drive him to hack and slash at any part of the creature that appeared as a target. If a head would swing back to stop the elf, the blade would swing to meet the flesh. Several times this meant that Uthiat had to force himself to react against the pull of this weapon. Slash after slash opened bloody wounds. Sticky blood sprayed him as the blade continued its work. The hydra was slowing, a good sign. Then there was a massive boom, and it howled in pain. 

Uthiat turned as the hydra slowly pulled itself away. He was breathing heavily after the ordeal with this weapon. He had spent many long years learning to cast and manipulate magic, but the physical attacks were something he was not prepared for. It was one thing to force oneself to channel waring away at the mind and body. The physical exertion of using a weapon was somehow more taxing upon him. The elf huffed once more before turning to the giant.

The massive thing was stumbling around with both heads hidden in blackness. The huge club whooshed through the air as it flailed. Uthiat watched as the northman attacked. The others were beginning to maneuver toward it. The elf closed his eyes and stabbed the sword into the dirt. He focused, and cast again. 

Sparks of fire flew from his fingers once more embracing each of his allies weapons. Flames seemed to trail from their leading edges. Uthiat stopped after his casting, and he waited. Whatever happened now he would need to be prepared, and if it called for it he might only have one chance to strike before the combined fatigue of his actions, and what the elf had planned might overwhelm him.


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## warsmith7752

.....you get the left"

"then it's a race Northman" Bjor ran at the giant with a mighty battlecry upon his lips. The giant took heed turning both it's heads towards him and grabbing the flailing berserker. Torak eager not to be outdone by a human began his plan of attack, he ran around the back of the giant and leapt for it's leg. He grabbed on and began to climb, he prayed to Vraccas to stop the giant from noticing his presence as he grabbed hold of another giant crease.

As Torak neared to top he realised that his plan was flawed, a giant black cloud surrounded the giants head blocking the paladins acces. He considered risking it for a moment but his better side thought better. He needed to either call the warlock to rid the giant of the spell or cast a spell himself. He chose he latter, he would combine he last of his magic with the magic hammer modeus gave him and hurl it at the giant.

Not one to rush things Torak went over his plan and uncovered a possible defect. If Torak smashed one head Into oblivion the other would still work and it would reel in pain and probably throw the daughty dwarf from it's shoulders and onto the ground probably making many broken bones. He needed a synchronised strike.

Torak leaned over the giants shoulders to see Bjor hanging onto his axe from the giants chestplate. "well don't just sit there human, we got a giant to kill." just as he finished speaking the giants hand battered into the dwarf knocking him onto the ground. He was dazed and shaken but no injuries were to be reported. Torak stomped to his feet angrily, all that effort for nothing.

Torak went to pick up his weapon when he realised the head had ignited, another magic enchantment? No. Torak saw the elf on the ground obviously drained with runes glowing. The others had a similar flaming weapons in their hands.

"it's no blasted use if I can't hit the damn beast is it?" Torak thought to himself. He began jogging towards the giant, quickly deciding on the move that he was just going to batter the things legs to pieces and take it from there. He might try chucking his spare axe at the giant. It was worth a shot.

Torak roared a battlecry as he swung the hammer again and again, the blue sparks causing the giants trousers and skin beneath to hiss with heat and fill Toraks nose with an unpleasant smell. The giant was clueless as to where he was being hit. It was almost to easy, Torak suspected modeus would have another surprise for them before the battle was done......


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## Chocobuncle

Yeta panted, he was so very tired from the spells he had casted to immobilize the giant but to only annoy it as it broke the spell with ease. As he looked around Yeta saw another one of the items Modeus had thrown into the arena. It appeared to be a staff with a bright green gem sitting on the top of it and the other side was a large blade with elven writing down it. He picked it up and marveled at its exquisite beauty. On the blade it showed a pale green elven writing which read Shadi os Tandros, The Blade of Magic.

He then saw the other warriors carry their blades and saw how similar they were and so he firmly griped the staff-sword and charged to strike the orge. He dodged the flailing hands of the blinded beast toward its back and started to hack out chucks on its massive bulging leg when the weapon suddenly became enhanced with a flame and he continued to attack viciously. As he continued to attack Yeta saw the pale elven writing begin to shine brighter and brighter giving off a bright aura around the blade. He also felt his magical strength come back and became rejuvenated with each attack he dealt. He took several steps back so not to be crushed by the blind monster.

As he began to cast a spell he could feel his magic stronger than it ever was before. It felt as if the the weapon gave him and enhanced his magic, overflowing him. Yeta then focused again on the creature and tried again to immobilize it and this time when he casted a spell the ground sprang up and swallowed the beast sucking him into the ground like it was alive and eating the giant. It stopped until only half of it remained above the ground and when the spell was done the blades runes again shone a pale green. He wondered what kind of weapon this was and was almost frightened by its powers.


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## komanko

“*It works! It actually works!*” The voice sounded again, this time kind of amazed of the success of the spell. Avariss was not used to casting spells like conjure night on moving targets as it was harder to maintain yet this worked, this amazed even as much as it amazed the voice and they were both excited. But the excitement was quickly cut off as more heads spawned and attacked Avariss, he continued beating them back with his newly found scythe, Avariss managed to repel the Hydra long enough and finally it gave up leaving to attack other targets. This gave Avariss the opportunity to look at what he conjured… The sight itself was quite comic and yet dangerous at the same time. The mutated giant has stopped in its place and began scratching its head without understanding what was happening, after a few seconds when the giant realized that his eyes were open he began smashing his hands randomly into direction and moving around madly, like an animal in a corner. Although amusing in some sort of way this was extremely dangerous as any of them could be easily crushed under the giant’s huge legs.

“*Humph, this is going to make things more difficult in some manner…*” Avariss said. “*We can try and kill it, you know, maybe try to climb up on the giant and insert a nice spell into its mouth…*” The voice said. As mad and insane as it sounded at that point it made sense to Avariss for some reason and decided to try and get up on top of the giant somehow. Yet something distracted him, a shriek pierced the air and Avariss turned around and saw the Hydra swirling its heads and snapping at the air to keep the attackers away, it was obviously retreating. So at least they won one battle now they’ll have to win the war. But soon Avariss found out that looking at the Hydra was a mistake as he turned around and nearly got crushed into a pulp by the giant’s huge right leg. Deciding to use the opportunity Avariss agreed with the voice to initiate the plan.

Avariss was about to try and jump on the giant’s right leg which nearly stomped him but he missed, he rolled away but not to safety as soon enough the second leg came from the other side and nearly crushed him again. This knocked some sense into Avariss and he decided that maybe Voice’s idea was not so great. Drawing his scythe out Avariss ran around the giant’s body, yet he was already tired not only from casting the spells and maintaining the darkness but also from fighting off the Hydra. Thus Avariss decided to close in for attack, making another quick round around the giant he reached behind its legs. At that point Avariss swung his scythe, moving it into a more comfortable place as he charged towards the giant’s knee but only then he noticed that it is too high for him to reach. He then stopped and began backing away from the giant as he did not want to be caught in the mess of legs again. Looking around he saw Torak charging towards the giant hitting him everywhere quickly and precisely, still he stayed near the legs and that was the chance that Avariss needed. “*Torak, you are not going to like it! Turn around towards me!*”Avariss shouted as he began running towards Torak. A wicked smile appeared on Avariss’s face as he used the Dwarf as a small life leaping on him and from him towards the giant’s knee slashing right below it with his scythe, cutting through muscles and veins. What really amazed Avariss was the fact that upon hit the Scythe was suddenly covered in dark green flames which highly resembled the ones on the fel firebolts he fired. The giant’s flesh began to burn and melt as the Scythe hit along with making a nasty cut just a little below the giants knee.

As he was landing Avariss moved to a position where he could simply roll on the ground without being hurt from the fall, as he finished the roll he ran back towards the giant’s legs, passing the shocked Torak and smiling towards him. He then began cutting relentlessly through the giant’s legs aiming towards the ankles.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Fight a dragon? Was Modeus being serious? That would be nigh on suicide. "Thr elfs a fricking lunatic" Kell muttered under his breath. 

The battle was continuing to rage on around him as he took his bearings. The hydra was truely taking alot of hurt by that point. All the other apprentices seemed to be equipped with ornate and rare looking weapons that Modeus had seemingly thrown into the arena. Just as Kell was about to ask Modeus where his were he noticed a pair of weapons just off to his right. 

Patiently he walked over to the weapons. They were a twin pair of ornate long swords, though different. One had a faint red hue to it's blade and the other blue, written on them in ornate script was 'Twin Fangs of the Dragon'. The air around the red blade was shimmering as if he was viewing it through a heat wave, whilst the blue blade was cooling the air around it. He picked them up and tested their weight by spinning them around in his hands, despite the length they felt light and well balanced.

Kell finally turned back to the fight, the Hydra now dragging itself back into it's lair. Meanwhile the others were going for the giant. The dwarf and dark elf were rather comically attacking the giants legs, the giant seemingly not caring. Kell looked to Modeus to seem him talking to a new arrival briefly. "Well, guess it's time to try and impress the lunatic. 

Kell reversed the grip on both swords and began to lightly jog towards the giant, he broke into a run as he got closer and then broke into a sprint as he closed the last few metres. "Apolgies in advance elf!" he yelled out and jumped towards the giant, boosting himself up via the dark elf who had done a similar feat to the dwarf earlier. He then dug both blades into the giant as improvised hand holds, noting the flesh burn and freeze around the two respective blades. He kept hauling himself up the giants massive leg, his arms burning from exhaustion as he neared the giants waistline. He looked up to see he still had an incredible distance left to climb, and though the wounds left by the swords looked deep and painful, the giant had clearly not noticed. 

"Another brilliant idea of mine then, well the only way is up" he said to himself, switching round to the giants back to avoid its flailing arms, Kell continued his long climb upwards.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor enjoyed the irony the fates had, he was the most dangerous threat to the giant out of the group and here he was hanging uselessly off its chestplate, it made him chuckle. He could feel the axe beating in unison with his own heart, it fed him the blood of his enemies and made him stronger, it was a feeling he had grown to like in the short time he had been weilding this weapon and the fact that he had not shed the giant's blood in awhile angered him. 

So far he was the highest one on the giant, the others somewhat bellow him, either on its legs or making their way towards its back. He tried to shake the axe to see how much wiggle room he had, it didnt budge at all, he would need to think of something else. An idea popped into his head and he began to sing a fighting song of his people while pounding with one fist on the giant's chestplate. He was trying to be as loud as possible knowing that the thing could still hear and hopefully make a move at him, thankfully for him it worked.

A meaty palm flew at him but Bjor was faster due to the axe, he vaulted himself up and gripped the top of the chestplate leaving the axe where it was, the giant's open palm slamming into the other blade of the axehead. It tore the axe out as its hand gripped the axe in an attempt to crush it leaving the handle coming out of the bottom of its grip. As the hand moved away Bjor pushed himself off the chestplate and lept at the moving hand gripping the haft of the axe as its hand moved upwards to try and ward off the darkness around one of its heads. 

Just as he passed over its shoulders Bjor ripped downwards on the axe, the beast letting go as its hand was torn open, its blood feeding the axe and in turn Bjor himself. He landed hard on the thing's huge shoulders, the darkness covering its heads making him blind to where exactly the thing's neck was. He took a few steps to get his bearing before figuring out exactly which was he was facing, towards its left arm? Or was it its right arm? He didnt know which but he knew there was a head somewhere so he bellowed as he swung his axe hoping that he would hit something and that if he missed he would bring his axe down between his feet and hack at its shoulders.


----------



## revan4559

Extraxi: The High Lord continues to sit there with his head resting on his hands before letting out a small yawn as he boredly looks on at the battle. He then pushes himself up and brushes his armour down before turning to look at you. "Well i guess you should join them." and before you can do anything with inhuman strength and speed the High Lord picks you up and throws you into the arena with the other apprentices. Flying through the air you have little time to wonder why Lord Modeus is so strong before your senses catch up with your mind and you can see that you are on a collision course with a strange looking elf(Yeta). After a few more seconds you slam into the Elf and roll on the ground together but thanks to you the Elf wasn't hit by the giant swinging his tree-club. You should get to your feet as soon as you can, help the elf up, apologize and then help the apprentices defeat the giant.

Uthiat: Casting the flaming weapon spell had almost completely drained you(warning: one more spell then you KO yourself) of energy to the point where you are barely able to pull 'Serpents Bane' out of the ground. From what you can tell your spell is working quite well as the wounds being inflicting upon the giant start to take their toll in the sense that it is getting slower in its attacks but its also making it angrier meaning it will be ignoring more and more of its wounds as it tries to kill all of you. As you stand there watching for a few moments something comes flying out of the stands by Lord Modeus and slams into Yeta, from what you can tell it appears the High Lord has thrown a Dark Elf into the arena and thanks to the elf crashing into Yeta, it saved the wood elf from being hit by the giants club. Maybe this new elf is another apprentice that had come to the keep late? or maybe its just one of Modeus's servants that had annoyed him, either way you might want to go and help him up and see if he is ok along with finding out who he is.

Torak: As you continue to hit the giants legs with your now flaming magical hammer it seems to get a lucky shot at you and manages to kick you half way across the area which you are barely able to block with your weapon. Only thanks to your magical hammer do you survive largely unharmed save for some scrapes and bruises from hitting the ground, as if you hadn't blocked the force of the kick would of clearly shattered some of your ribs. Standing up groggily you can feel the affects of using your spells start to take their strain(you can use two more spells before you pass out from energy loss), while you stand there you can see the High Lord throw something into the area which slams straight into the Wood Elf which knocks him out of the way of the Giant's tree-club. Looking to see what Lord Modeus threw you can see that it wasn't a weapon but infact a Dark Elf. You wonder if this is an apprentice which came late and Lord Modeus has decided to train and punish at the same time, or just one of the High Lord's servants who have annoyed him. Looking to your right you can see the High Elf Uthiat almost on his knee's through sheer exhaustion of using so many spells, it may be wise to defend the Elf rather than attacking the giant. You are also extremely pissed at the Dark Elf Avariss for using you as a stepping stone for him to use to attack the giant(react accordingly xD)

Yeta: As the ground swallows the giant up to its waist it roars with anger before somehow managing to dig itself out of the ground even though it is blinded by darkness. The giant then starts to swing its tree-club around wildly before getting a very lucky and well aimed shot in which it comes flying towards you. What happens next you did not expect as before you have time to dodge something comes flying out of the stands by Lord Modeus and slams straight into you, making the tree-club of the giant harmlessly fly past as you roll several feet away. Partially dazed you look to see what hit you and you can see that the High Lord somehow threw a Dark Elf at you. You should get back up onto your feet so you can keep an eye on the giant so it doesn't almost hit you again, along with trying to find out who this new elf is. If you have a quick glance around you, you can see that Torak is slowly pushing himself up to his feet, Uthiat is almost on his knee's from casting so many spells, Bjor is hanging from the giant's chest-plate by his axe, Avariss is attacking the back of the giant's legs, and Kell is attacking the other leg with two blades.

Avariss: The damage the scythe does to the giant is helping you and the other apprentices alot as you manage to slice through the muscle, nerves and tendons of the Giant's ankle so when it takes a step backwards its leg buckles as it can no longer feel its foot and the massive thirty meter giant starts to fall backwards with howls of rage and confusion. After running away from the giant so you don't get crushed as it falls you can see that Kell the human is trying to use his sword's to scale the giant and is currently hanging from it at waist height, and on its shoulder's you can see Bjor the North-man hacking down into the giant's shoulder. You may want to call a warning to both of them to get off the giant or they could be injured in its fall, mainly Bjor as he is ontop of it.

Kell: As your arms continue to burn through the effort of lifting your own weight you notice that the world is going from vertical to horizontal as the giant starts to topple backwards from a wound inflicted by Avariss's scythe. You decide to hand on for dear life as falling from the giant now could break some of your bones of its your really unlucky you may somehow get caught under it when the giant finally hits the ground. Above you is Bjor who appears to be enjoying his time hacking away at the giants shoulder with his axe and may not have noticed that the giant falling backwards so you decide it best to shout a warning for Bjor to either hold onto something or even try to make his way down the giant because if he remains where he is, he may fall off and get crushed.

Bjor: The swing of your axe into the darkness that surrounded the heads and necks of the Giant simply passes through without hitting anything which then somehow annoys both you and your axe. As you then move your axe down and slice open part of the Giants shoulder there is a sudden jerk in the Giants movements as it starts to topple backwards thanks to the combined efforts of the other apprentices. Now with you on its shoulder and the giant toppling backwards you need to make a decision of how your going to survive this. Will you jump down towards its chest where Kell is and try to plant your axe into its breastplate again and hand on while the giant falls onto its back. Or will you simply jump the thirty meters from the Giant's shoulder down to the solid ground in hope that your vampiric axe has the legendary healing abilities of the vampire. (IF you jump to the ground use the following): After jumping down from the giant you land on your feet and go into the roll after hearing a very loud crunch followed by immense pain in both of your shins. Looking down you can see the bones of your shins protruding from the flesh in several places which could very easily mean you won't walk again, but then the runes on the axe blaze into life again before fading as the bones in your legs start to snap back into place(rather painfully) and the flesh mends itself. Eventually the runes stop glowing altogether after using all the blood it has absorbed to heal your own injuries.

Andaleth: After having thrown a Dark Elf ,that had appeared and apologized for being late, into the arena High Lord Modeus returns to his seat infront of you and to the left before going back to resting his chin on his left palm before speaking to you. "I take it your not going to join them then Andaleth? by the looks of it the fight will soon be over anyway so i doubt there is much point in you joining now. Tell me what do you think of them? Personally they have a very very long way to go before any of them are fight to be called a Dragon Rider, along with having almost no sense of team work at all. Then again they only just met each other." Modeus says before looking around as some dwarves come into the arena to watch the fight. The High Lord waits for your answer before letting out a small yawn and turning his head to look at you in the shadows. "Well once its over i suggest before i start telling them where they can improve, you better introduce yourself and explain why you didn't help them?".


----------



## Midge913

It had been a long 2 days for Andaleth….. His journey from the Southern reaches of the Bel’angrath to the High Dragon Hold deep in the Kel’Karadorn mountains had taken had taken him the better part of three weeks to complete. He had arrived on the doorstep of the fortress, weary, hungry, and exhausted, only to be thrown right into training at a pace that he couldn’t have imagined. Modeus had already taught him much about the use of the weapons that up until this point he had carried simply as a deterrent to other thieves, and to use in situations where his opponent was unsuspecting. 

Andaleth had chosen his egg shortly after arriving at the hold. Having been lead into the Egg room, he had been astonished by the vast array of eggs, their colors and shapes catching the light in a fascinating way. Lord Modeus had presented 14 different eggs to chose from, and immediately Andaleth’s eye was drawn to the slate grey egg with black striping. Its surface reflected the firelight in the room in a pattern that seemed to seize his attention and as he lifted the egg from its resting place, he felt an odd connection with the beast that slumbered within. It felt as though a stray thought had brushed his mind, a brief connection with a consciousness not his own and he trembled at the sensation. The selection had been easy and quick, yet the egg still had not hatched. 

Lord Modeus had decided that he wasn’t ready to join another group of apprentices that had already been in training for a few months, so he was forced to wait for the group that his Lordship had said would arrive shortly. His hours were not spent idly though, he had been given several manuscripts to read, and each day the Lord Modeus, or members from the Iron Hammer clan had worked with him in combat tactics and the use of his abilities. It had only been two days of an apprenticeship that would potentially last for years, and already Andaleth was weary to the bone. 

At last, after what seemed like weeks, the students that Lord Modeus had spoken of began to arrive. He stood with the Dragon Lord in one of the towers overlooking the roadway, speaking of air currents and the mechanics of Dragon flight, when Modeus motioned to the road. Andaleth squinted to make out the figure that was approaching, his eyes were not as keen as his Master’s, and he could barely make out the stately form of a high elf making his way down the main road to the Hold. 

“Ahh, here is the first,” said Lord Modeus. “Your next assignment my pupil is observe this new group. I will be placing them directly into the arena and I want your honest assessment of each of this group. Learn of them for you will be working with them from here on. “With that Modeus left the tower to greet the newcomers. Andaleth sat in the tower for awhile and as he did he observed more new recruits arrive, two men, a wood elf, a dwarf, and a dark elf in all. With a pensive glance to the road, wondering if he had made the right choice by coming here, he made his way to the arena.

The fight was enlightening to a point. He watched, paying as much attention as he could to each of his compatriots approaches to both the hydra and the giant. He kept himself concealed in the shadows as to not alert them to his presence as Lord Modeus had requested. 

It seemed that the group had finally managed to dispatch the hydra and they were really starting to deal with the giant when another dark elf entered the arena, spoke to Lord Modeus, and to Andaleth’s surprise was hefted into the arena by his Master. He had heard the dwarfs of the Iron Hammer clan speak of Modeus’ strength, but Andaleth had taken this to be rumors and legend expanding to the point of ridiculousness. It seemed that the stories were at least partially true. Andaleth filed that piece of information away for future reference. 

As Lord Modeus returned to his seat, Andaleth caught the slight motion his master made indicating he wished Andaleth to move closer to him. Andaleth crept down the stands, keeping the battle in view, but it seemed as if the combined efforts of the group were finally taking their toll on the beast. The fight would end soon. 

"I take it your not going to join them then Andaleth?” Lord Modeus said, “by the looks of it the fight will soon be over anyway so I doubt there is much point in you joining now. Tell me what do you think of them? Personally they have a very very long way to go before any of them are fight to be called a Dragon Rider, along with having almost no sense of team work at all. Then again they only just met each other."

“I agree master,” Andaleth began, “they fight more with heart than with head. The magic users exhaust themselves too quickly.” Andaleth was forcibly reminded of this, his first lesson at Modeus’ hands. He had been told to defend himself, only with magic, and he did not last long. He woke up in the middle of the practice floor, shaking, cold, and exhausted, drained to the core. “The fighters use each other, rather than work together. They are all skilled my Lord, but they still fight alone.” Another thing that Andaleth had learned in the past 48 hours, He had been given a retainer of dwarf warriors to deal with mountain troll in this very arena upon first arriving at the Hold. His instructions had been to work together to defeat the monster, but this concept of teamwork was foreign to him. They had won the battle, but all three dwarfs had been seriously injured in the fight, and to reinforce the lesson, Andaleth was now responsible for all of their work as well as his own. 

Lord Modeus seemed to be tiring of this fight, he yawned and said to Andaleth, ”Well once its over I suggest before I start telling them where they can improve, you better introduce yourself and explain why you didn't help them?"

“Yes master,” Andaleth replied. Lord Modeus’ response troubled him. Should he have helped, even though he had been instructed to observe? What would his new companions think? Well, only time would tell.


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi watched as the high lord, rested his head in his hands and yawned without once taking his bored gaze off the battlefield. "Well I guess you should join them then." He stood and with unbelivable spped and strength picked up and hurled him straight into the arena. Extraxi wondered what had given the high lord the speed and strength to surprsise him, considering he had spent more than his life hunting much quicker and stronger things. 

Then he realised that was the least of his problems for he was now hurtling through the air towards a exhausted and astonished looking Wood Elf. He also noticed that the two headed giant he had noticed earlier, although he could not see the heads anymore because of the darkness around it, was swinging it's club that would have hit the Wood Elf if he could not dodge.

He slammed into the elf with his arms held in front of him and his head tucked in knocking the unfortunate elf into a painful skid. He landed and rolled to absorb the impact, getting shakingly to his feet he took in the scene instantly with an ease born of long practice. He pulled the Wood Elf to his feet without moving his eyes and said, "my apologies but could we settle this after that thing is dead," and without waiting for an answer he climbed to his feet, drew his bow and looked for a good position. There was a dwarf with a fiery looking magical hammer being used as a stepping stone by another Dark Elf. He saw the giant begin to fall, the tendons in it's ankle cut through by the black sythe wielded by his fellow dark elf and began shooting the falling thing again and again. He moved closer, but the dodged back as a hand flailed at him. Two humans where hanging off the beast, one of them was slashing through the darkness surrounding the heads with an axe that made Extraxi's blood churn by looking at it while the other focused on surviving the beasts fall without being crushed beneath it. There was also a High Elf that looked as if he might collapse from fatigue caused by, he guessed, casting too many spells (he had seen it happen before). 

He also noticed, with some annoyance, that another man had appeared behind the dragon rider and appeared to be talking with Modeus. He quelled his annoyance and focused on fighting the black skinned, two headed giant in front of him. He would find out about the man later, if there was a later for him because the beast was still not dead despite the efforts of the others...


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat watched as the others continued their attack. With as little as he had left there was nothing he could truly to assist now. His inept ability with a sword would make him more likely to harm someone in that melee. If they needed it he could cast a last spell.

Uthiat grabbed the blade again and debated on lifting it. Finally he pull the blade from the ground. As he did something flew out of the stands, and slammed into Yeta. Another dark elf? What had this one done to anger Modeus? The high elf started to move toward the pair as the dark elf jumped to his feet and quickly ran. There was a twang as he began to fire with a bow.

“Come on my friend,” Uthiat said moving to assist the wood elf to his feet after dropping the sword again. The high elf was visibly drained as he struggled to help Yeta to his feet. When he had finished Uthiat moved away from the melee. Clear of the fight he huffed again before gathering himself. 

Uthiat turned back to the others and the giant. They were working away at the creature. He wished he knew how to swing a weapon correctly, but for now all he could do to assist was stay clear. As he watched for a moment he realized the sword was still lying in the dirt. “For the best,” he whispered looking back to the giant, “Damn thing might drag me around again.”


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell dug his feet firmly into two of the gaping, yet trivial wounds he had cut into the giants flesh with his twin blades, so that he could rest his aching arms for a moment. It was a strange effect, the one wound was intensely hot and were it not for his boots, would surely burn and blister his foot. The other wound was frozen solid and the flesh around it showed signs of severe frostbite. The twined swords were truely unique, but a detailed inspection would have to wait until later. 

He looked down to see how the others were fairing. He noticed primarily the newcomer he had seen before in the stands was now sprawled on the ground along with the wood elf, whilst the high elf was conversing with them both. "Oh don't mind us and the giant! Please continue with the pleasantries!" he yelled to them.

He looked up to see Bjor still battling away at the giants chest and was about to yell to him aswell. But then he was overcome by a curious sensation, his stomach felt as if it had been left behind and his sense of balance went off and he felt instantly nauseous. It was then he realised the giant was falling over backwards like a giant tree or a crumbling tower. "This clearly isn't going to end well" Kell moaned out loud. 

He looked back up at Bjor and shouted "Hey! Northman! Your going to want to hold on to something! We're going back down to ground level the fast way and it's not going to be pretty!" Kell then swung round to the front of the giant and plunged his swords as deep as they would go into the giant and hung on for his life.

He cynically thought to himself aswell "Bastards still probably laughing"


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor was angered that he could not hit either of the heads, how far away were they from him? He settled for digging his axe into the giant's shoulders over and over again, yelps and groans coming from the two heads as each blow struck home. There was a sharp jerk in motion and had it not been for the axe feeding him inreased power and strength he was sure that he would have been flung off of his perch. He vaguely heard the human warrior speaking to him and cocked his head to the side as he tried to hear what he was saying, the realization of what it was hitting home as he felt the giant begin to tumble backwards. 

Interesting how it started so slowly, he had to do something quick lest he fall beneath the giant itself, and he was in no mood to be squished. As the beast toppled backwards he lept onto its chest and dug his axe head into its flesh just above its chest plate, he gripped the haft of his axe and the top of the chestplate to steady himself, the axe head stuck nice and tight. He thought about what they were going to do once this beat hit the floor, it would surely be interesting, but he knew that the giant was still going to fight and in fact would fight much harder. 

His stomach lurched as the beast began to pick up speed as it fell, and he held on for dear life hoping that he would soon be able to cleave its heads from its shoulders.


----------



## warsmith7752

CHEEK, Torak was a dwarf not a bleeding staircase.

"oi long' un, you wait till after I have some things to get straight with you."

Still grumbling to himself Torak turned to begin attacking the giant again only to be met by a speeding club, his instincts threw his hammer up to parry the blow but what use it a hammer when the thing hitting you could quite easily throw 10 of you into the air? This is precisely what happened to Torak, he went flying about 15ft and landed awkwardly still spinning on his head and then he bounced 5 times (still rolling) before coming to a stop, he groaned heavily. His body had taken small injuries but many of them and that was about the same as taking one major wound, the dwarf thought to himself wether he should use his energy to heal himself or weather the storm. Well an unconscious dwarf is a useless dwarf, but a weak dwarf is also a useless dwarf. Eventually he decided to conserve his energy for an emergency.

Standing up Torak saw something fly into the ring out of the corner of his eye, it looked to be a dark elf "another one? A madman, a cheeky idiot who uses dwarves as trampolines, and what would this one be like, well obviously an idiot he was an elf. "blasted long' uns breed like rats." grumbled the rather irritated dwarf. Shaking his head he took a couple of practice steps, nothing seemed out of place and he could perform to normal level so he broke into a run towards the giant.

While he was on his way there he noticed the giant had begun to fall over backwards, Torak smiled to himself and sent a glare to the nearest apprentices that he wanted the last blow. He stopped and waited for the giant to fall, he was going to smash the twin skulls into red dust, the club incident had made the fight personal.


----------



## komanko

The attack paid off, the scythe stroke again and again, cutting through the monster’s muscles, nerves and tendons. Rolling beneath the giant’s legs and standing up again Avariss could hear its screams of pain and agony as it began to fall down while still being relentlessly attacked by Bjor and Kell. Yet they were in danger of being crushed as they did not seem to feel that the giant is slowly falling down. Luckily after a few seconds Kell noticed that change and shouted to Bjor which did not seem to clearly respond or understand to what is said to him yet he clearly felt the change to. Both of them began moving, taking positions which will not be directly on the back of the giant.

As the giant’s body came closer to the ground Avariss remembered that he still was too close to the giant and thus began moving away, backing away as fast as possible to create a gap between the soon to be raging giant. Yet he was tired, his spells and actions were beginning to take their toll on him and as he kept moving away the tiredness only increased until Avariss finally decided after being urged by the Voice to let the giant know a little fear by removing the darkness around its head. When finally Avariss was in a safe distance he clenched his hand and the darkness disappeared leaving the confused and enraged giant to see the fall he will have to suffer now. Avariss couldn’t help but smile as he saw the giant’s confusion and suffering and even better was the fact that his strength began returning to him, he felt that he will be able to help his newly acquired allies one last time before becoming utterly drained from strength.

Slowly moving to conserve as much power as possible from what’s left, Avariss made his way to the northern part of the arena, away from the giant as much as possible and there he took a sit. The sand on the ground pestered him and was annoyingly penetrating his clothing. A moment before initiating his plan Avariss shouted towards the elf mage Uthiat, “*Hey, mage! If you have any strength left in you for one last spell you can try and use the sand below the giant, you can turn it into glass by utilizing your fireball maybe it will annoy the giant a little more*!” He said with a smile, although speaking to Uthiat this was an advice which was given to anyone who could use some sort of a fire based spell as this would certainly hurt the falling giant as he will crush the newly made glass and most of it will be stuck in his back.

Finally after finishing this last step Avariss closed his eyes and took a sit in a lotus pose and then putting his hands on his knees he cleared his thoughts. He rarely used this spell but it would certainly help his allies if he would be able to maintain it long enough and even if he won’t he will be able to slow the monster down. When finally his mind was blank and he couldn’t even hear Voice he pictured the giant, he pictured every spot in his body every muscle, tendon and nerve. He followed the rough anatomical imaginative picture, he followed its bloodstream and placing of vital organs and when he was ready he initiated. Few words were spoken, and in his mind Avariss engulfed the giant’s inner body in flames. He began boiling its blood…


----------



## revan4559

Extraxi: You get the feeling that your bow and arrows may not be much use against the giant as it has required the other apprentices using magical weapons thrown into the arena by Lord Modeus to deal enough wounds to force back the Hydra and bring the Giant down. Even then it has severely drained them and they all look exhausted. Standing there wondering what you can do, you can see the darkness around the heads of the Giant vanish as the warlock dispels his spell. This now give you the perfect opportunity to atleast help them by aiming and firing arrows at the Giant's eyes, as not only would it blind it but it may also cause it a great deal of pain to force it to withdraw to its pen like the hydra did. The only way to find out if it will is to try.

Uthiat: You stand there watching as the Giant topples backwards due to the attacks does by Avariss before he moves away from the giant and does into some sort of trance, most likely summoning the last of his energy for a final spell. As the giant topples you can see that both Bjor and Kell are hanging from its chest by their weapons, there is a small shaking of the earth as its massive weight does from falling to making a loud thud as it slams into the ground. If you did have enough energy left then now would be the time to attack but sadly you do not have the strength. Looking around you can see that a figure has appeared next to Modeus, a dark skinned human and appears to be talking to the High Lord. Maybe you should go over and find out who he is? As it will give you something to do until the Giant is defeated or the other apprentices need you to do something. You also notice Grungar the dwarf disappear off into one of the hallways.

Torak: As the giant hits the floor it shakes the entire floor of the arena along with creating a deafening thud which leaves you partially deaf for the next few minutes. Now you are able to charge the giant and attack its heads due to it laying sprawled on the floor, but you will have to dodge its flailing arms and hands as it thrashes about trying to get both Kell and Bjor off of its chest. You also notice that the darkness around its heads have disappeared meaning you are able to see where exactly its heads are, but it also means that now the giant can see you making it even deadlier as it can now also see you. Charging forward you narrowly miss being hit by the giant's flailing right leg as it kicks it out. You should work your way up onto its chest then make your way towards its heads as it may be a good idea to blind it with your hammer first of all then it means it won't be able to see you again.

Yeta: As the ground swallows the giant up to its waist it roars with anger before somehow managing to dig itself out of the ground even though it is blinded by darkness. The giant then starts to swing its tree-club around wildly before getting a very lucky and well aimed shot in which it comes flying towards you. What happens next you did not expect as before you have time to dodge something comes flying out of the stands by Lord Modeus and slams straight into you, making the tree-club of the giant harmlessly fly past as you roll several feet away. Partially dazed you look to see what hit you and you can see that the High Lord somehow threw a Dark Elf at you. You should get back up onto your feet so you can keep an eye on the giant so it doesn't almost hit you again, along with trying to find out who this new elf is. If you have a quick glance around you, you can see that Torak is slowly pushing himself up to his feet, Uthiat is almost on his knee's from casting so many spells, Bjor is hanging from the giant's chest-plate by his axe, Avariss is attacking the back of the giant's legs, and Kell is attacking the other leg with two blades.

Avariss: Having been a very long time since you last used this spell it takes awhile getting used to using it again as for a good few minutes nothing happens to the giant. After the few minutes of nothing happening your spell finally starts to take affect on the Giant as the blood vessels in its eyes start to increase in side making its eyes look blood shot, then small drop lets of blood start to leak from its nose's and ears. As you continue you can sense the blood vessels in the giant's nose start to slowly burst from the slowly boiling blood. Happy with your work you continue to maintain the spell even though it now starts to drain you just like when you conjured and maintained the darkness. You decide not to stop until the blood vessels in the giant's eyes burst which in turn will end up blinding the monstrous creature, though whether or not you have enough energy will be decided in the next few minutes.

Kell: Your entire body shakes to the point where you nearly let go of your swords as the giant hits the ground with a deafening thud. You lay there for a few moments as you try to gather your wits after having gone from being vertical to horizontal. Standing up and looking around you can see that the Avariss the dark elf has moved away from the giant and gone into some sort of trace. Uthait is remaining away from the fighting and looks completely exhausted. Torak is now charging towards the giant now that it has fallen over and he can get at its heads. Yeta is standing with Uthait. Bjor is now pushing himself up along with getting ready to attack the giant's heads. A new dark elf has joined the fight and is firing arrows towards the giant's head. The only problem now is that the darkness around the giant's heads that were keeping it blind are now gone. Instead of trying to push itself back up it merely starts swinging its massive hands towards you and the other apprentices as you get close. You can see its massive left hand come flying at you, ready to swat you off of its chest. It would be wise to dodge under it, then trying and attack the giants heads and necks as now it can see the fight has become even more dangerous.

Bjor: Your entire body shakes to the point where you nearly let go of your axe as the giant hits the ground with a deafening thud. You lay there for a few moments as you try to gather your wits after having gone from being vertical to horizontal. Standing up and looking around you can see that the Avariss the dark elf has moved away from the giant and gone into some sort of trace. Uthait is remaining away from the fighting and looks completely exhausted. Torak is now charging towards the giant now that it has fallen over and he can get at its heads. Yeta is standing with Uthait. Kell is pushing himself up and looking around at the others like you are. A new dark elf has joined the fight and is firing arrows towards the giant's head. The only problem now is that the darkness around the giant's heads that were keeping it blind are now gone. Instead of trying to push itself back up it merely starts swinging its massive hands towards you and the other apprentices as you get close. The vampiric axe is then easily pulled out of the giant's chest-plate as it starts to compel you to go and spill more blood. You also quickly see out of the corner of your vision one of the giant's hands go flying towards Kell. If you wish you could easily charge and defend the human of the south by using your new strength to slice through some of its fingers.

Andaleth: The Dragon Lord continues to sit there as he watches the fight go on. The hydra has now fully retreated to its pen and the gate has now been shut. You can see that the giant's wounds are taking their toll as it falls over thanks to a dark elf warlock wielding one of the magical weapons that the High Lord threw into the area. Infront of you the High Lord lets out another yawn before looking at Grungar the Ironhammer Clan's King come in and starts to whisper to Lord Modeus. You are un-able to hear what the dwarf is saying but what ever it is it seems to put the Hugh Lord in a good mood as a smile appears on his face. Shortly after the dwarf wonders off into one of the many passageways to clearly go and do something important. Modeus then turns around to look at you. "Do you think i should let them kill the giant? or stop them and it before it dies? As if i let them kill it, it means i will have to go out and capture another one." queries the Dragon Lord before he looks back to the fight. While thinking on what answer to give you start to wonder what Grungar and Modeus were talking about, as you have noticed that Grungar and Modeus spent alot of time looking over maps and plans for strange inventions and buildings when they aren't teaching apprentices.

OOC: Everyone feel free to bring the giant to NEAR death. I will decide in the next update whether or not to let you kill it or have it returned to its cage.


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## Santaire

After watching his sixth arrow splinter against the giant's black skin Extraxi realised his bow would not be enough to kill this monstrosity considering the others were all using magical weapons thrown into the arena by Lord Modeus. "Like he had been" he thought ruefully. Contemplating what to do next while dodging the beast's thrashing blows he then noticed the fog around the giant's 2 heads was lifting and he had a clear shot at it's 4 eyes. If I can blind the thing, a little more permanently than before then there job would be a lot easier.

"I'm going for the eyes," he shouted and sprinted closer to the beast's 2 heads. he skidded under a flailing blow and slid to a halt, drawing his bow and firing in a single movement. The arrow glanced off the giant's cheekbone, missing it's eye by a centimeter. "Damn," he muttered and fired again. This time it struck! The giant flailed and clutched at it's eye, yelling in pain. Emboldened by his succes, Extraxi leapt onto it and began to run up it's body, still shooting at it.

He was so focused on it that he did notice the hand sweeping towards him until it was almost too late. He dived over the fingers that had been about to crush and as he did so he sliced them open with his newly drawn dagger. He sheathed it and then hit the ground and rolled to his feet. "No more theatrics," he told himself sternly. Pausing for a second to inspect his bow he then looked for another target

He spent a few more arrows on the eyes hitting two of the remaining 3 .Then seeing another target, he shot 3 arrows into the underside of the giant's arm, breaching the atery and causing floods of blood to pour out of the small but dangerous wound. If the arrows had come out the beast would have been dead within an hour but the arrows were wedged in and not enough blood could escape. "Not long now," he muttered. He saw his fellow Dark Elf, the one who had crippled the giant, casting an almost certainly powerful spell and decided to stop the beast from reaching him.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat watched as the giant as it stumbled back, and began to fall. As it did the dark elf moved away. The massive thing slammed into the ground. The dark elf, Avariss, sat with his feet crossed, and hands on his knees. Perhaps he was casting some kind of spell, though Uthiat couldn’t say what it was. Two humans were hanging from the giant’s chest as it collapsed to the ground. There was a voice calling to him, but the high elf didn’t really listen. He glanced back toward Modeus. No it wasn’t him, maybe listening to it might have been more important.

The ground shuttered as dirt and dust was kicked up under the massive impact. Uthiat glanced toward the ground as he realized what Avariss had said. Glassing the ground might have worked, but there was only a thin layer of sand on the ground. Beneath that, he guessed, was probably rock. Creating a sheet of glass against this surface would not have much effect on the battle as the likely hood of a shard of sufficient size to form on the hard rock, survive the impact, and actually be positioned where it might be useful was so low.

The others charged in with their weapons raised. Uthiat glanced toward the sword again. The likelihood he might be able to help while it was on the ground was low. His ineptitude with the weapon combined with his current fatigue would more than likely prove detrimental. The giant howled in pain as its eyes widened, and began to turn red. Curious, the high elf thought as he looked at it. The warlock must be doing this. One of the eyes seemed to pop as an arrow speared into it. The new dark elf sprinted past preparing another arrow. Under the combined assault the downed thing wouldn’t last long.

Uthiat glanced toward Modeus. The dark elf spoke to another individual, a human by the appearance. This one had dark hair and skin with mostly black clothing. Uthiat couldn’t tell what the man was right off, but he was not displaying a weapon openly. The dwarf, Grungar the elf thought his name was, was leaving. Uthiat moved toward them slowly trying to keep an eye on the giant incase what little help he could render was needed. 

“Modeus,” the high elf said half watching the fight, “who is the individual you have so politely launched down here, that elf. Another apprentice I presume, much like this human here. Might I enquire a name? It makes it easier to speak with you here.” His tone was polite with a positive tone despite his appearance, and the ordeal.


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## Midge913

The fight was definitely close to being over. Andaleth stayed close to his master’s side just in case the High Lord had further queries for him. Andaleth had learned to be wary of the High Lords sudden mood swings and he watched as Modeus became increasingly bored of the match occurring in the arena. Andaleth presumed that it was certainly possible to be treated in the same unceremonious manner as the Dark Elf who had been tossed bodily into the fight with an angry mutated giant. 

As he sat watching the fight wind down, Andaleth observed Grungar enter the arena, pause for a second to assess the apprentices progress, and hurry to Modeus’ side. Grungar appeared jovial and excited about something and leaned close to Modeus’ ear. Andaleth tried his best to hear what they were talking about. 

In his many laps around the castle in the last two days, doing chores, running errands for Lord Modeus and rushing to lessons, he had seen The Dragon Lord and the Dwarf Chief in close counsel. Pouring over maps and scribbled manuscripts, strange blueprints, and plans for odd inventions. Ever the slave to his curiousity, Andaleth was dying to know what Modeus was planning. 

Listening intently, trying to drown out the noise and ruckus of the fight below in the arena, he attempted to pick up what the two were saying to one another. But it was no use. Grungar’s low basso voice rumbled into the High Lord’s ear to quietly to be heard, but what he said must have pleased Modeus, because he looked up from the conversation with a large smile and an easier set to his shoulders as Grungar departed down one of the side tunnels in the arena.

Turning to Andaleth, Modeus asked, "Do you think i should let them kill the giant? or stop them and it before it dies? As if i let them kill it, it means i will have to go out and capture another one.” 

Pondering only a moment Andaleth replied, “Spare its life master. Not for its own sake, but it is obvious that the apprentices have proven capable of defeating the beast eventually, and at this point its death serves no appreciable purpose. Kept alive it could be used again in another training exercise and It would save your Lordship the onerous task of having to procure a replacement.” 

As he spoke Modeus, Andaleth saw that the High Elf Mage had broken away from the combat, looking beaten and drained the point of exhaustion, and was headed toward were he and Modeus sat. As he reached the wall of the arena enclosure he appeared to gather himself, and said to them, 

“Modeus,” the high elf said half watching the fight, “who is the individual you have so politely launched down here, that elf. Another apprentice I presume, much like this human here. Might I enquire a name? It makes it easier to speak with you here.”  he elfs voice was heavy with exhaustion but he spoke well and in a rather positive manner. 

"Hail good elf,” Andaleth replied to the inquiry. “I am Andaleth Veto, pleased to meet you…” as Andaleth held his hand out in greeting.


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## komanko

It was a slow tiresome process, and Avariss was not used to this kind of pressure on his small already split in two mind. The only positive thing was that Voice could encourage him to create more destruction which made his will stronger in cases where powerful spells had to be used. Yet nothing prepared him for this casting, as the last time he used his blood boiling spell was twenty or maybe even thirty years ago. The imaginative schematic of the giant’s body helped Avariss concentrate on the target thus it was easier for him, also the fact that it was only one target and not several targets were supposed to be hit made it easier. Even though all of this helped it was still a complicated spell for Avariss at this time and he had to gather all the will and strength he had left in him to reach a deep enough stance of concentration. The schematic continued running through his head when he gave birth to it, creating muscles, veins, tendons, and then creating blood in the natural tunnels of the body, afterwards covering it with flesh tissue. It was now complete and not an easy process. It might seem easy in first sight but creating an anatomical copy of a creature in ones imagination while also possibly at threat is not as easy as it looks but success followed Avariss at most of this battle’s steps along with this spell as he finally felt the energies gathering inside of his body, the power building up to unleash this storm of pain into the giant’s body. Yet still nothing happened, Avariss then realized that he did not gather enough power to unleash such a spell and waited a bit longer passing the time with an annoying quarrel with Voice inside of his head.

After finally gathering the necessary energy Avariss began the process of injecting the spell into the giant’s body, this was more an art then a spell as he had to concentrate on a place he could see blood from and luckily the giant had numerous wounds, big ones, many of them created by the two idiots which were hanging on top of the huge giant. Although idiots, they did their job well… It was time. 

Standing up Avariss raised his Scythe and pointed at the giant’s wounds. It was a mere symbolic attention getting act but it was easier to concentrate while he was also channeling his power through the magic capable scythe. Avariss continued standing like that, with his eyes closed, his scythe pointed at the giant. He stood like that, not flinching, not moving, barely breathing… He was tired from casting spells and tired from fighting and the less he did the more he was capable of maintaining such a powerful spell. Finally the spell began to work, at first it seemed to only drain Avariss’s energy and Voice complained… But Avariss only smiled and told him to wait, the longer the spell was channeled the more severe the effects became. At first the Giant started twitching, sweat soon became part of the giant as more and more sweat began to gather as a result from the extreme hit which was involved in boiling ones blood. After that came the more severe symptoms, opening his eyes Avariss saw that the giant’s eyes began to widen, blood vessels gathering and becoming more visible giving the eye a reddish look which made the giant’s eyes look like they were bloodshot. Meantime Avariss’s body was surrounded in an unnatural aura of vile, evil magic, the most visible was his eyes which began glowing in an evil looking dark greenish light the further the spell went and the more energy he put into it. At some point it seemed for anyone who looked that his shadow was walking by its own. The shadow, the Voice, he was able to manifest himself into reality via traveling through the energy generated by Avariss but soon he will have to get back to Avariss or be destroyed as he won’t be able to sustain himself for long.

The more Avariss put into the spell the more the giant seemed to suffer and be in pain, soon blood began to fall out of the giants ears along with from his nose, the slow tide began to magnify and get stronger the longer the spell was active, yet the worse for the giant was a head as the spell began to reach its climax along with Avariss reaching his extent of abilities, when the spell began to initiate its final steps Avariss began to fill the toll the spell his taking from him, he felt the pain that it is causing him and began to hiss, the hiss soon became a scream of pain as he and the spell reached the climax. Avariss quickly cut the link with the spell but not before it reached the climax, exploding the left eye of each head in a magnificent sight of gore and blood. For a moment the giant was confused, his nerves not being able to take the force of the pain at ones, but soon as he saw the blood the horrible picture was translated into the nerved and the giant Howled in pain, he roared, howled and screamed, as blood continued rushing out of the two huge holes and him uselessly trying to close the huge hole with his hands. 

Avariss was drained and he simply laid on the ground, his hand on the sand, he had to rest and the ground seemed like a nice place to rest. Emptying his thoughts from anything, even from the giant’s threat Avariss went to sleep. For a long time he did not reach the end of his powers as he had no need to while living isolated from everyone in a rather peaceful place, as much as the border of the Darkalnds can be peaceful. At any rate, he had to sleep and rest and that’s exactly what he did.


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## Angel of Blood

Everything had gone eerily quiet, all Kell could hear was the faint sound of the wind rushing past his ears as the giant fell. It was as if the giant was impossibly falling in slow motion, the ground slowly coming up to meet him as he clung on as hard as possible. Then came the impact and everything went black.

Kell blinked open his eyes, the fall having breifly knocked him out. It felt like he had been out for an age, but judging by the dust and earth still rising into the air from the impact he had only been out for no more than a second, his hands not even having had time to release their grip on his swords. He tightened his slackening grip on the swords and groggily looked around. The giant was now flat on its back upon the arena floor, Bjor was similarly stunned up on the giants chest, Uthiat was stumbling back over to Modeus in the stands looking exhausted, Kell then looked over to Avariss, who was channeling a spell.

The dark elf sorcerer had gone into some sort of trance, the giants bleeding wounds seemed to intensify, its eyes becoming more increasingly bloodshot, blood starting to trickle out of its ears and nose. Kell looked back to Avariss and a look of disgust crossed his face. The sorcerer was surrounded by a green haze, his shadow appearing to be moving off its own accord, his eyes glowing green, it hurt Kells eyes to look at him and made him feel ill. The haze intensified and the giant let out a howl as blood began to now flow from its wounds, nose and ears. The spell climaxed with two of the giants eyes bursting in a shower of blood. Avariss then collpased to the ground, fully spent. Kell had never felt more contempt in his life, he detested sorcery as it was, but this was something else, this was evil and corrupt. There would be a reckoning after this was over.

Kell picked himself and ran across the giants chest to Bjor and held out a hand to help the north man up. "Look at the sorcerers" He snarled, spitting at the ground as he did "They've used so much of their vile power that they can no longer continue the fight, looks like it's down to us warriors to finish this fight, as it should be. Lets finish this!" 

He then sprinted forwards towards the heads, yelling to Bjor as he did "I'll take the left head!". Spinning his swords through his hands, blades facing backwards in his prefered stance. He jumped down from the giants chest onto its left neck, crossing arms as he fell. As soon as he landed he stabbed both swords into the massive jugular and then uncrossed his arms in a scissor motion as he did, making sure both blades crossed each other to cancel out the effects of their magic. He tore out a huge chunk of the jugular, blood geysered out of the wound, the blood already overly pressurised by the sorcerers spell. 

Kell let a smirk cross his face "Ha, who needs spells when you've got-" Kells sentence was abruptly cut short as one of the giants massive fists punched him clean off his feet, sending him spinning across the arena with such force that he slammed into the opposite arena wall, this impact knocking him out permanantly and finally taking him out of the fight.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

OOC: well i was going to save you kell but now you've gone and knocked yourself out :laugh:

Bjor's legs absorbed the impact as the giant hit the floor with titanic force, the ripples of energy shaking him violently and making his head spin. He was a bit dizzy by the time he let go and stumbled before falling flat on his face and cursing in his native tongue, it was if he had drunk too much mead, that thought bringing back bad memories. He turned and took Kell's hand as the warrior helped him up and told him to look at the sorcerors, all of them too exhausted to continue the fight. 

*"They need to learn to pace themselves."* he said back to Kell, the warrior soon charging at the giant's left head. Bjor slammed the head of the axe down into the giant's chest to allow it to soak up more blood before tearing it out and running at the right head, letting out a warcry of his own. He dodged the hand that had pummeled Kell and swung his axe upward in an effort to hit the main vein and tendon that controlled its wrist. The blade knicked the vein but missed the tendon and hot blood fell on him, burning him in some places only to have the power of the axe heal him with its vampiric powers. 

He lept at the right head, his axe held high, and planted the head of the axe in one of the most awkward places he could have imagined. The axe had been aimed at the beast's forhead but somehow it had managed to move its head making the blade sink deep into jawbone, bones cracking and breaking as the axe fed power into Bjor who tried to push it further in in an effort to hack off its jaw, the red haze falling over him at last as the kill was so near.


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## warsmith7752

Torak shielded his eyes from the dust cloud created from the giants colossal body hurtling into the ground, he heard a slight snap indicating broken/fractured bones. Torak chuckled to himself quietly, the only thing between them was height at the start. Now Torak had a clear run toward the heads. Kell and Bjor had already begun their assault, Kell first sliced one of the giants heads to pieces before being launched in the air by a meaty fist to which Torak called after "that's what you get for being tall long' un"

Still chuckling Torak turned to see Bjors progress, he had sunk his vampiric axe into the giants remaining head but it seemed the giant bones had stopped the blade in it's tracks. Bjor mad win bloodlust snarled a the giant looking slightly insane to the dwarf. Definetly in requirement of some help.

Torak took a step forward, the giant was flailing under the effort of throwing Bjor off and stopping it's brain being turned to mush. Torak shut his eyes and legged it. If he gods wished him to survive they would pilot him true. Yelling at the top of his voice Torak hit into something then stopped.

That something was Bjor, he was In a state, blood and gore splattered him from the giants blood and the hydra, he vaguely resembled a zombie feasting on a corpse. Torak instinctually went to ground, his dwarven genes must have mistaken the giants shaking for an earthquake......

"let it go Bjor, your angle is wrong, it would be easier to take the axe out and make a different strike than sit there with brute strength."

(OOC: sorry for the terrible post, AoB and BAV nicked all the killing (although that's my fault for taking to log) this is all I could think of that doesn't go against Toraks personality"


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## revan4559

Andaleth: Modeus listen's to what you have to say before you introduce yourself to Uthait the High Elf while letting out a yawn. Pushing himself Modeus steps forward towards the edge of the arena and hops up onto the small wall separating the arena pit and the arena stands before he looks around. "Should have enough room." With a click of his fingers a large tome a little over a thousand pages long drops out of the air above the Dragon Lord's hands. You can see that the books cover is infact metal than what it usually is, and the dark purple runes down its spine give off the clear sign of it being a spell book. Flicking it open the Dragon Lord flicks through the pages mumbling to himself about trying to find a certain spell. "Ah here is it" Says Modeus before snapping the book shut and attaching it to his belt by a chain. Becoming very intrigued at Modeus knowing magic along with being one of the greatest swordsmen of the age you watch intently, raising his left hand purple lightning crackles and arcs around it before the Dragon Lord once again simply clicks his fingers. The room is then filled with bright purple light blinding you, when your eye sight finally clears and adjusts you find that you are.....(See the everyone post below)

Extraxi: As you back away to the other dark elf you can see the left eyes on both of the giant's head explode in a cloud of blood before the dark elf behind you collapses onto the floor from exhaustion. Moving back towards him your vision is then filled with a bright purple light which ends up blinding you along with everyone else. You feel as if something and pulled you off your feet and thrown you through the air as you can no longer see anything and your feet are no longer touching solid group for several moments. When your eye sight finally clears and adjusts you find that you are.....(See the everyone post below)

Uthiat: Modeus seemingly ignores you when you ask about the dark elf he launched into the arena. The dark skinned human then stands up and introduces himself to you before learning over the edge of the arena to shake your hand. You should introduce yourself to be polite. After introducing yourself you can see Modeus moving forward towards the edge of the arena and hops up onto the small wall separating the arena pit and the arena stands before he looks around. "Should have enough room." With a click of his fingers a large tome a little over a thousand pages long drops out of the air above the Dragon Lord's hands. You can see that the books cover is infact metal than what it usually is, and the dark purple runes down its spine give off the clear sign of it being a spell book. Flicking it open the Dragon Lord flicks through the pages mumbling to himself about trying to find a certain spell. "Ah here is it" Says Modeus before snapping the book shut and attaching it to his belt by a chain. Becoming very intrigued at Modeus knowing magic along with being one of the greatest swordsmen of the age you watch intently, raising his left hand purple lightning crackles and arcs around it before the Dragon Lord once again simply clicks his fingers. The room is then filled with bright purple light blinding you, when your eye sight finally clears and adjusts you find that you are.....(See the everyone post below)

Torak: Knocking Bjor over and telling him to calm down your vision is filled with a bright purple light which ends up blinding you to everything in the arena. You also feel that your body is weightless as if you have been thrown into the air or into water, though your dwarven senses tell you that very powerful magic has been used you don't know who could do such a thing. Remaining there motionless you suddenly start to feel your body falling downwards until you hit into something very hard and wooden, when your eye sight finally clears and adjusts you find that you are.....(See the everyone post below)

Avariss: Laying on the ground you stare at the ceiling while your eyes slowly close, it has been many years since you needed to use that kind of power and your body has yet to fully get used to it again. Before your eyes fully close and you fall asleep there is an immense build up of magical energy before your vision is filled with a bright purple light which blinds you to all else. You feel as if your body as been dropped down a hole as your back is no longer against the floor. Falling asleep at this point in time could prove fatal so you force yourself to remain awake and stare into the strange purple light. When your eye sight finally clears and adjusts you find that you are.....(See the everyone post below)

Kell: By some miracle you are not knocked out when your about to hit the wall, instead you see a blinding light purple light along with becoming completely weightless as you fly through the air without hitting anything. Though there is one which that unsettles you, a shiver runs down your spine which happens when ever you feel/know powerful magic is being used. After several moments you stop flying backwards and instead feel yourself falling downwards and straight into something hard and wooden, when your eye sight finally clears and adjusts you find that you are.....(See the everyone post below) 

Bjor: As you bring your axe down for another attack at the giant the red haze in your vision is filled with purple light which blinds you completely. What else is strange is that instead of your axe hitting the giant it hits nothing at all as if you were somehow in mid air. Standing there in the purple light you seem to calm down as you no longer have anything to fight and the runes on your axe start to become fainter(even though you can't see it) as the blood within the weapon is trying to give you your sight back against the purple light. when your eye sight finally clears and adjusts you find that you are.....(See the everyone post below)

Everyone: After your vision clears you find yourself back in the large meeting hall that you had entered in earlier. You are either standing about with your weapons out, or you have crashed through a table(Kell and Torak) along with lying on the ground(Avariss). Stood on upon the table infront of you if the High Lord Modeus with his arms crossed staring at all of you with his purple eyes, faint arcs of dark purple lightning are coursing around his body and he has a very annoyed look on his face which makes him look very dark and evil. His facial expression then quickly changes into a smile "Well that training lesson went well don't you think?" The High Lord then waited for your reactions then looked at those which were injured. "Now normally i would make you do laps of the fortress in the condition that you are now but i will be nice and let you have a rest for awhile but first ill be needing those weapons back." Modeus unfolds his arms and clicks his fingers, each of the magical weapons he gave you fly out of your hands and disappear through a strange looking portal to the Dragon Lord's left as several dwarves enter. "Well Andaleth you best introduce yourself and do what i asked you to do earlier. Now to the rest of you, these dwarves will take you back to your rooms. Once there you will be able to rest for an hour before they come to collect you for a meal. Is that all understood?". What you all make of the High Lord using such powerful magic so easily up to you but it is clear that if you are able to endure the ten year Apprenticeship then you may become as strong as Modeus himself. While walking through the halls with the dwarves you have time to think about Dragons, the apprenticeship's lessons and trials yet to come, along with thinking about how strong Modeus actually is. Upon reaching the door to the room you have been led to you open it and step inside.

OOC: I will reveal whats in each of your rooms next update.


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## Santaire

As he ran backed towards the other Dark Elf, bow raised Extraxi saw the giant's remaining eyes explode in a flash of blood and tissue. The Dark Elf collapsed from exhaustion. Extraxi ran to haul him to his feet but he was suddenly blinded by a bright flash of purple light.He felt as if something pulled him off his feet and thrown him through the air as he was still blinded and he could not sense solid ground beneath his feet for several moments.

When his vision cleared he found himself in the large meeting hall he had noticed earlier on his way to join the others. Most of them were still standing, holding their weapons but two of them; the dwarf and one of the humans had crashed through a table and the other Dark Elf was slumped on the floor in much the same position as he had been earlier.

Lord Modeus was standing on another table in front of them with a dissaproving expression on his face. Faint arcs of purple lightning glittered and darted and around him and he had his arms folded across his chest. These features made him look demonic. Then he smiled and said "well that training lesson went well don't you think?" The High Lord then waited for their reactions, Extraxi looked faintly annoyed at the dragon riders casual disregard for the conditions of most of them, then looked across at the injured. "Now normally I would make you do laps of the fortress in the condition that you are now but I will be kind for once and let you have a rest for a while but first I'll be needing those weapons back."

He unfolded his arms and clicked his fingers and the weapons of the others were all sucked out of their grasp to vanish into a portal at the other side of the room. The portal vanished a moment later. Several dwarves entered. "Well Andaleth you best introduce yourself and do what I asked you to do earlier. Now to the rest of you, these dwarves will take you back to your rooms. Once there you will be able to rest for an hour before they come to collect you for a meal. Is that all understood?". The High Lord spoke sternly.

Extraxi showed no emotion but inside he was wrestling with the thought of what had given the High Lord such power. A transportation spell was almost impossible to master and to do it for so many people at once was unbelievable and the fact that Modeus was not even breathing heavingly should have been impossible. 'But,' he thought 'if Modeus can do this I will be powerful at the end of my apprenticeship as well.' He savoured the thought. All he could think about was his dragon, his lessons and the trials they would no doubt have to overcome. He also spared some thought to how powerful Modeus actually was. Upon reaching his room he opened the door and stepped inside.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat reached up to the dark skinned human. “Uthiat Alenaneldth,” the high elf replied. His hand gripped rather tightly for his size and apparent weariness. Modeus moved forward. He hopped up onto the wall and glanced from side to side._ “Should have enough room,”_ the dark elf said. Uthiat gave him a puzzled look. Then Modeus snapped his fingers.

A tomb appeared. It was overly large and the actual cover appeared to be made of metal. There were lines of runes carved into the spine. A spell book? Modeus flipped from page to pace mumbling to himself. Uthiat watched quietly. What form of spell caster was this dark elf? Not a warlock, they simply did their cursed magics. A mage? Modeus could be, but certainly not a full mage. _“Ah here is it,”_ the dark elf said snapping the book closed before attaching it to his belt by a chain. Modeus was said to be a great swordsman. According to several sources one of the greatest of the age. The addition of magics made it all rather intriguing. 

As Uthiat watched Modeus raise his hand. Magic was being pulled in centered around the dark elf and discharging as purple lightning. Then he clicked his fingers. From years of study Uthiat had learned about the many forms of mages. There were subtle differences that so many never noticed. Something easy to overlook such as an object of power meant one such form.

There was a flash of purple light. Uthiat felt weightless for an instant. “Teleportation,” the high elf said. He had seen, and felt its use before. It was one of the magics he had thought of learning, but realized there were some reasons he did not trust it. After his many years of travel he had learned some times the journey was an important as the destination.

Then they were in a familiar hall. As Uthiat looked around as he heard a crash. He could see the others were all here still completing the actions they were involved in before. Modeus stood on a table nearby. The familiar discharge of magic still coursed off of him. Combined with his face, and body language it could appear quite frightening, but the high elf only saw the disappointed elf.

_"well that training lesson went well don't you think," _Modeus asked. Uthiat glanced around. He knew what to expect now. The dragon rider wished to push them to their limits, and then push the limit. A wise choice, though pushing too hard would ultimately end many of them. “Oh yes as well as it could I suppose,” Uthiat said as Modeus looked toward the injured._ "Now normally i would make you do laps of the fortress in the condition that you are now but i will be nice and let you have a rest for awhile but first ill be needing those weapons back."_ As Modeus snapped his fingers this time the weapons were pulled from each of them into a swirling vortex. Another teleportation spell. Uthiat glanced to the spell book, and felt the magical energies as they flowed. A focus, many mages used them. There was a clatter and clank as a single sword without an owner skittered across the stone floor and whipped into the air.

_ "Well Andaleth you best introduce yourself and do what i asked you to do earlier. Now to the rest of you, these dwarves will take you back to your rooms. Once there you will be able to rest for an hour before they come to collect you for a meal. Is that all understood?"_ “Perfectly,” Uthiat said smiling. How much of the magic was the focus, and how much of it was the dark elf Uthiat wondered. While it only mattered a little it still mattered in the mind of the high elf. One thing was apparent; Uthiat would need to learn the art of the blade. For his long years there had been so little need of it. To so many a mage was a thing to be feared. The first time you blasted a bandit into oblivion was the last time you saw his associates. Magic had always come so easy to Uthiat that he never really wanted to complicate it with swords.

Another though entered his mind as the apprentices were lead toward their rooms. If Modeus was one of the greatest swordsmen, and had learned to channel what could Uthiat learn to do? He smiled slightly at the thought. Then there was the dragon. What form of dragon had been selected? Uthiat reached to his pouches and retrieved a book. Quickly flipping to an empty page he wrote a few notes. 

Nearing his room Uthiat closed the book and placed it back in the pouch. It was then he noticed one of the scroll casings. During the fight he had landed on one crimpling it. “Oh no,” he said carefully pulling the case aside and slowly working off the lid. Inside several pieces of rolled paper had been flattened. Uthiat began to unroll them as the door to his room was opened. “Oh dear,” he said looking at the creases in one of his maps. Paired with it was a journey log written in some kind of code of the elf’s own devising. “At least I needed to recopy this,” Uthiat said stepping into the room, “but the map may be harder to refinish.” There was some agony in his voice. The casing contained three more pairings. The high elf lowered the papers from his face hoping there was some kind of a desk to begin working on, or maybe a bed.


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## Midge913

The High Elf took Andaleth's outstrectched hand and shook it firmly. "Uthiat Alenaneldth," he said introducing himself. This was the first time he had encountered one of the magi face to face. He had always avoided close contact meetings with those of that order because he was unsure how they would react to him. He knew that mages and warlocks did not see eye to eye and he would be damned if he would start an open conflict of that nature. Being self taught in the use of his powers he didn't know if one could detect the presence of Fel magic or not, so erring on the side of caution he had never placed himself in a position where this would be a potential issue. 

"Damn," Andaleth thought, "I should have forseen this eventuality." But whether Uthiat noticed or not he never showed any outward reaction to contact with him.

His musings, and any further conversation with Uthiat, were interrupted by Lord Modeus springing to his feet and snapping his fingers. Before him appeared a large metal bound tome, inscribed with runes and sigils. "A spell book," Andaleth mused. His masters abilities with a sword were a thing of reknown and, as Andaleth had seen with his own eyes, his physical prowess was nothing short of remarkable. If Modeus was also a mage of some sort.... Andaleth filed this away as a thing to be wary of. Modeus was full of surprises it seemed. 

Modeus flicked through the book pensively, mumbling to himself, and apparently looking for a particular entry. "Ah here it is," he said snapping the book closed and attaching it by a chain to his belt. Modeus raised his left hand and irridescent purple lightning began to crackle about him, forming arcs and domes centered on the Dragon Lord, until once again he clicked his fingers. 

With a cry, Andaleth threw and arm over his eyes to shield them from the sudden blinding light that had enveloped him. He felt utterly weightless for a moment, a moment that seemed to strecth on for an age, until he felt firm ground beneath his feet again. Blinking steadily, trying to get his vision to return, Andaleth took in the smells and sounds around him. Trying to get a fix on where he might be. Slowly his sight returned and he found that he was standing in the meeting hall where he had first met Modeus, the other apprentices scattered around him, some standing, some still on the ground as they had been in the arena. Modeus himself was atop a table, eyes and hands still bathed in purple energy. The Dragon Lord looked very menacing, and annoyed. As the energy died down however, Modeus broke into a smile, "Well that training lesson went well don't you think?" The High Lord then waited for your reactions then looked at those which were injured. "Now normally i would make you do laps of the fortress in the condition that you are now but i will be nice and let you have a rest for awhile but first ill be needing those weapons back." With that he snapped his fingers once again and the weapons that the other apprentices had wielded in the arena flew from their hands as if by their own accord and were swallowed into a strange portal that floated by Modeus' side. 

Modeus finished by saying, "Well Andaleth you best introduce yourself and do what i asked you to do earlier. Now to the rest of you, these dwarves will take you back to your rooms. Once there you will be able to rest for an hour before they come to collect you for a meal. Is that all understood?" 

"Yes, master, I understand," Andaleth replied with several of the other apprentices. With that it seemed like all eyes turned on him. "Well, isn't this lovely," he thought to himself, "singled out on the first day." 

To the other apprentices he said, "I am Andaleth Veto. I will be joining your group as of this moment. By Lord Modeus' command I was to observe you today and provide him with my opinion as to your performance in the arena. I will finish by saying that there are lessons that we all will need to learn, and having arrived several days ago I can attest that Modeus is a demanding instructor. I look forward to working with you all." 

With that he left the hall following one of the Dwarven clansmen. He realized as he followed his guide that he did not remember sleeping since his arrival, well other than when he had passed out from exhaustion in the middle of one of the training rooms, and he was looking forward to a hot meal and a soft bed and he wondered if either would be forthcoming.


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## warsmith7752

Before anything could happen after Torak stood up a purple haze shrouded his vision, it grew slowly at first but sped up to fill his vision, suddenly it turned into a blinding light and filled Toraks ears with a high pitch screech. Instinctually he filled his mind with the light and tried to purge the magic from around him. It was a pitiful attempt due to the dwarfs failing energy levels but he suspected even if he was good as new he would have fared no better, there was much the paladin still had to learn. Once Torak stopped the vain attempt at purging the purple haze he noticed the feeling of flying. He did not enjoy this, he was used to keeping his feet on the ground and he intended to keep it that way for as much as possible.

As quickly as it came the haze left Torak was deposited a number of feet above a wooden table in a room he did not immediately recognise. One thought went through his mind while he was falling "That blasted psychotic dark elf." he fell through the table in a cloud of dust and splinters.

"well that training session went well didn't it?"

Torak buried his head in his hands and sighed in an exasperated manner. Another apprentice introduced himself as Andaleth, Torak didn't mind any of the apprentices so long as they didn't give him reason too. One such that had was that blasted elf that used him as a launch pad.

"AVARIS! you meet me somewhere later, I need to give you a long talk on why not to anger a dwarf."

<komanko reply to be inserted here>

A dwarf came and led Torak through the hold towards a room, on the way Torak asked "does this place have any ale? And I mean the proper stuff, not that watery slur them humans brew."


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## Angel of Blood

Kell was dimly aware that he was flying through the air, vaguely remembering having been punched by one of the giants fists. He saw himself hurtling directly at one of the arena walls and tried his best to prepare himself for the impact.

But then he noticed himself slowing down and an uneasy feeling of weightlessness overcame him. A shockingly bright purple light then started to blind him, he at first thought it might have been the after effects of the punch, but then a familar and sickening shiver ran down his spine and he felt heaily nauseous. With a angry realisation he fully understood what was causing these effects.

Sorcery.

He let out a animal cry of rage before his senses were completely overloaded by the spell with a flash. And then he wasn't in the arena any longer, he was in another room and still several feet in the air above a hard wooden table. 

"What the fu-" he sputtered before crashing through the table below.

He let out a painful moan as he slowly raised his head. He realises he was back in the vast dining hall, along with the rest of the apprentices, most of them looking confused and shocked, but he noticed Torak had also crashed through another table. He was now certain of his original suspicion, they had all been transported from the arena to the hall by use of foul sorcery and he felt his anger begin to rise up again.

Before he could do anything more he heard the Highlord speak ""Well that training lesson went well don't you think?". Raising his head further he saw Modeus stood on a table infront of them all with a wide grin on his face. He looked over them all, looking directly at Kell still sprawled across the collapsed table. Unable to make a verbal response Kell merely spat a moutful of blood onto the ground instead. "Now normally i would make you do laps of the fortress in the condition that you are now but i will be nice and let you have a rest for awhile but first ill be needing those weapons back." 

He proceeded to click his fingers and the various weapons he had given out to the apprentices were yanked from their hands and flew past Modeus through a conjured portal to his side. 'More sorcery' Kell thought. 

A group of dwarves entered the hall as Modeus collected the weapons. Modeus then told one of the newcomers to introduce himself and instructed them to follow the dwarves to their quarters were they could rest before eating. The apprentice stepped forwards to introduce himself, but Kell had other matters on his mind.

Slowly and painfully he stood up and brushed the wreckage of the table off himself. He looked around and quicjly found who he was looking for. He walked over to where Avaris was restrained himself from assaulting the elf there and then. "I saw the foul sorcery you used upon that giant in the arena elf. You tamper and play with vile powers that should not be fooled around with. Mark my words, i will be watching you from now on" He snarled at Avaris. He then turned his back in the elf and followed the dwarf that beckoned him over. 

The dwarf led him to his quarters in silence. Kell wasn't even paying attention to where the dwarf was leading him. His mind was still occupied by what had just transpired. Modeus had used collossal knowledge of sorcery to snatch them all from the arean to the hall, Kell had only heard about beings as powerful as that in myths and legends told to him by others around campfires. He hated sorcery in all its forms, but for now he realised he must live with it for now, the chance to become a dragon rider strong enough to outwiegh his predjudices. 

They eventually stopped outside a door which the dwarf told him was now his. He nodded his thanks at the dwarf and threw open the door, glad at the chance to be able to rest, if only for a little while.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor swung his axe down and hit....nothing. The blade sliced through the air at about the same time that he lost his vision, if one of those cowardly magic users had accidently hit him with a spell he swore that he would give them a thorough beating the minute his eyesight returned. He felt his feet leave the giant's body and had the feeling that he was floating, what in the frozen hells was going on? His anger began to rise more and more as he fruitlessly fought against the magic, his limbs flailing wildly with no effect whatsoever until finally his vision was returned and he dropped to the ground.

He looked around and saw that they were back in the large dining halls, who had gotten them here? That was when he saw Modeus standing on a table, good training session his arse, they had all amost gotten themselves killed and would have had those weapons not been thrown into the ring. The runes on the axe were dark due to the axe using its power to try and give him back his eyesight, he actually liked this weapon, it suited him well indeed. But it was not to last as the weapon shot out of his hand and towards a portal Modeus had opened, more vile sorcery.

They were all escorted to their rooms by the dwarves who lived in the citadel, "Where is the drink in this place dwarf? I know you lot have good mead somewhere around here." he chuckled a little and waited for the dwarf to reply. Once he got to his room he shrugged his shoulders a bit and nodded his thanks to the dwarf before opening the door and entering, he was still energetic so he figured he would train a bit in his room before they were called next.


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## komanko

OOC: Need you AoB to read the last part, scroll down if you don’t want to bother with all of that.

As the vision of the stony ceiling slowly disappeared along with Avariss’s sight of his surroundings he felt a change happening around him, a spark of magical energy, growing ever stronger. Yet he was too tired to pay any attention to it as the blood boil spell left him completely drained and the amount of fireballs he cast did not help his situation. Yet the annoying smell of magic filled the air although no spell was active right now, this kept Avariss awake, it was dangerous to sleep while spells were at work as one would never know when they’ll backfire at oneself. Yet out of exhaustion Avariss closed his eyes, but this time something did change, as a bright purple light filled his vision, blinding him for a second and causing him to blink rapidly as he saw shapes and weird colors for a moment until his eyes readjusted to the change of lightning. It was clear that the bright light was not the only part of the spell and that something is yet to come. 

Suddenly his suspicions proved to be right as he felt his body detaching from the safety of the ground and starting to levitate, he heard exclamations around him, no doubt some of the less intelligent characters around him were surprised by the magic. Then it hit him, he knew what those things resembled this spell was used to get him out of places several times, particularly out of the town when he was banished. As he remembered the spell he had only enough time to mutter, “*Not this again…*” Voice was about to reply but then the spell kicked in. Avariss felt like his body is sucked into an abyss which engulfed him for a few moments until his body exited out of it, the smell of the arena disappeared, blood couldn’t be smelled except for the blood on him, the spell was finished and Avariss opened his eyes now. Slowly readjusting again to the lightning around him… When he was finally able to see clearly he found himself lying on the ground at the same position as before, while looking around he saw the others scattered around and that the two warriors which were on top of the giant crashed through a table. Scouring the place a little bit more Avariss recognized this as the meeting hall where most of them met each other earlier.

Avariss did not bother to stand up he just stayed on the ground, calmly resting until he was commanded differently. Looking around again he saw that Modeus also appeared, he was standing on a table, his hands crossed as he stared at his newly found apprentices. He had a strangely annoyed look on his face; this was weird as he did not seem to get any real reason to be annoyed so Avariss just waited for him to say what was on his mind. Taking another look at the High Lord it was clear that it was he who used the magic which teleported them here, a teleportation spell some might say. His body was still tingling with magic to those who were sensitive to it, but it was also seen in the physical world as small purple lightning like streams of energy passed through him, but soon they disappeared as the energies calmed down. He continued to stare at his apprentices for a little while more but then suddenly his expression changed and his face was now smiling at them, he was clearly happy and pleased by their performance in the “training session”. *"Well that training lesson went well don't you think?*" Avariss grunted an answer “*It was not bad*.” Voice sighed inside his head “*There were moments where I thought that we will be dead*.” Listening to Voice Avariss did not reply right away but after waiting for a while and hearing some of the other apprentices giving their opinions on the training Avariss told Voice, not bothering speaking quietly as he was too tired to hide it. “*There were moments where I thought that we will be dead too, luckily we survived to fight another day.*” Voice simply stayed quite in an agreeable fashion. With Voice finally quite Avariss was able to listen to Modeus again. "*Now normally i would make you do laps of the fortress in the condition that you are now but i will be nice and let you have a rest for awhile but first ill be needing those weapons back.*" He was certainly strict with his rules, if he wanted them to run in this condition on a regular basis, for now Avariss was glad that he did not decide to apprehend those laws. 

Avariss looked around for his scythe, “*Its Modeus’s Scythe not yours.*” Voice muttered in annoyance, reading Avariss’s actions and thoughts as usual. Not bothering to answer Avariss grabbed a hold of the scythe which lay next to his right hand. Yet before standing up and giving Modues back his weapons he heard the whispers of magic again as a small portal opened which sucked all the weapons into it. It was annoying to see that Modeus was using magic as well, he was cocky enough without it but now Avariss guessed that he will show off more of his abilities more often, just to impress his apprentices. When finally all weapons were sucked into the portal’s maw Modeus spoke again while several dwarves entered the room. "*Well Andaleth you best introduce yourself and do what i asked you to do earlier. Now to the rest of you, these dwarves will take you back to your rooms. Once there you will be able to rest for an hour before they come to collect you for a meal. Is that all understood?*" Avariss nodded and muttered a yes from his lips. When Modeus finished some began to immidiatly leave the room while others stayed, particularly the dwarf Torak which Avariss noticed that was eyeing him for quite a while. “*This probably has something to do with you using him as a step.*” Voice remarked half laughing. Avariss simply smiled.

Then suddenly an unfamiliar to him voice spoke, looking around he saw a new person approaching them, "*I am Andaleth Veto. I will be joining your group as of this moment. By Lord Modeus' command I was to observe you today and provide him with my opinion as to your performance in the arena. I will finish by saying that there are lessons that we all will need to learn, and having arrived several days ago I can attest that Modeus is a demanding instructor. I look forward to working with you all.*" Avariss looked at him scouring him and his features after that he reached out with his hand in a shake like fashion and said, “*I am pleased to meet you Gentleman Veto, I am looking forward to working with you too.*” After saying that Avariss slowly began to push himself up planning on finding his room and resting while he could. Yet before he stood up completely he was approached by a clearly mad dwarf, it was Torak. It could be said that he was red with anger as he started that they will have to talk somewhere so he would be able to explain why someone do not anger a dwarf. Avariss couldn’t help but laugh at the image of the raging dwarf as he said friendlily “*It will be nice to get to know you better Torak, I am looking forward to our talk.*” After that he simply bursted out in laughter as the image of the raging dwarf could not leave his mind even after he was gone. Yet the assault on Avariss did not end yet as another person approached him, it as Kell, a human. "*I saw the foul sorcery you used upon that giant in the arena elf. You tamper and play with vile powers that should not be fooled around with. Mark my words, i will be watching you from now on*" the human said. Avariss felt the anger rising inside of him; he did not know that he was capable of such an amount of anger. “*I tamper with powers that should not be fooled around with!? AM I?! If I recall correctly you were the one who was hanging from the giant helplessly until it came down*!” The sudden mood swing surprised even Avariss which was not expecting such a thing to happen; too late he realized that it was not him who was saying that. Avariss realized that he was cornered into his own mind by Voice’s extreme emotions. As Avariss’s anger rose so did Voice’s control over Avariss. Sadly Avariss knew that he would be helpless for a few minutes, not able to control his own body and just watch helplessly as Voice spread evil from Avariss’s mouth.

As he watched Voice Avariss could only shout at him to stop, yet it was too late. As Kell started walking away Voice pulled out the hidden knife from Avariss’s robe. Taking a few quick steps Voice caught Kell from behind and put the knife in front of him, just under his throat. Kell froze, Voice then spoke mockingly, “*How will you watch me!? While you can barely watch yourself from that weak warlock that you mock! Your swordsmanship is as evil as the sorcery he uses!*” After that he let Kell go it was weird for Avariss to hear such words coming out of his mouth as Avariss was friendly and calm, exactly the opposite from Voice. Moreover it was utterly confusing for people who were not knowledgeable of Avariss’s condition, as they had to hear Avariss talking about himself from a different angle, in third person like he was not there. Avariss was not sure if Voice was knowledgeable of him controlling the body as it happened so quickly, but as quickly as it happened it had to end as Avariss roared inside his mind, sending waves of energy at Voice and forcing him back into the depths of Avariss’s mind.

Avariss dropped on his knees as he grabbed his hand in pain when he felt Voice trying to smash his way back to reality, realizing to late that he was in control of the body. Avariss screamed as wave after wave of energy hit him. It felt like his head was about to explode from the pressure that Voice had on him. Finally Voice let go “*I will get my freedom someday!*” he snarled at Avariss. “*Not today, no you won’t!*" Avariss spat at him. The knife was quickly hidden back as Avariss finally stood up, the vile look from his eyes passed away and he looked normal again. He passed by the shocked Kell pushing him aside lightly and muttering a quick apologize which was barely heard. As Avariss approached the door one of the dwarves exited and Avariss quickly followed him, it was bad; he never knew that Voice could take control of him that easily by using his emotions against himself. Apparently getting back to society will be a lot more dangerous than he expected. Yet for not he simply followed the dwarf letting his weakness pass as the dwarf led him to his room.


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## revan4559

Andaleth: Pushing open the door to your room you walk inside to see that it is furnished in the style of your homeland, the volcanic region of the kingdoms of men. You have a book case against against the left wall which will require investigation later on to see what there is to read, dominating the wall to your right is a large fire place which is burning well with many logs and current has a pot situated above it with the smell of lamb and vegetable stew simmering away inside. Closing the door behind you, you look at the far end of the room where your bed is and in the center of the room is a table with four chairs placed around it. On a shelf next to the fireplace is a cupboard which contains bowls, plates and cutlery for eating. On the wall next to your bookcase is another door but this time it is wooden, you will have to investigate which is inside that later. Finally in the far right corner is a carefully constructed alcove filled with special heating coals, sitting ontop of these coals is the dragon egg which you picked and has yet to hatch. You have plenty of time to eat some of the stew inside of the pot and maybe go and read some of the books on the shelf, but what ever you do for the hour you have to rest is up to you.

Extraxi: Opening the door and walking inside you close it behind you before turning around to see what your room is like. You can see that it has been built and furnished in the style of the Dark Elves of the north, with sculptured pillars depicting battles between the elves and the creatures of the dark-lands. Directly to your left and against the wall is a circular target which is clearly so you can stand at the other end of the room and practice with your bow. On the left wall is a fireplace which is well stocked with wood and burning nicely, sitting ontop is a pot which judging by the smell is currently cooking some-kind of Tundra Mammoth stew. In the center of the room is a table with four chairs placed around it with some bowls, plates and cutlery on it already. At the far end of the room is your bed and in the corner to the right of your bed is the dragon egg which you have chosen. Due to it being the egg of an ice dragon it needs no heating fires and is currently chilling the air about itself despite the warm temperature in the room, you also notice it has partially frozen two feet in all directions around it, making the floor under it and the walls around it covered in ice. You also notice an un-opened wooden door in the space between your bed and your dragon egg. You have an hour of free time to do what you want before the dwarves come and collect you, so you need to decide what you are going to do in your room.

Uthiat: Inside of your room you can see that it appears to have been built to suit a High Elf of the west by the design of the contents inside. At the far end of the room from you is a large open fireplace current burning wooden logs to heat the room and something that is inside of a pot being held above it. Your elven sense of smell can tell you its some kind of lamb stew. In the middle of the room is a wooden table with six chairs around it with plates, bowls and cutlery placed on it ready for eating. Against the left wall of the room is a desk complete with draws, ink wells and feather quills, all up and down the same wall are bookcases filled with interesting looking books. Against the right wall is your bed placed about mid way in the room, further closer to you is an unopened wooden door which you may need to investigate later. Finally in the corner between your bed and the fire place is a carefully constructed alcove filled with special heating coals, sitting ontop of these coals is the dragon egg which you picked earlier. You have an hour of free time so you need to decide what to do: Do you walk over and serve yourself some of the stew? do you go to the book case and see what is there? do you go over to the desk and try to fix the things that were broken during your fall?

Torak: The dwarf leading you tells you there should be some in your room when you get there. Getting to your room and opening the door you step inside to notice its furnished and built just like proper dwarven buildings with a lower ceiling but average sized furniture. To your left is your bed that is placed mid way in the room, in the middle of the room is a table with four seats around it, complete with everything needed for eating. Against the walls either side of the doors are bookcases which you can see are all written in dwarven. You can see the right wall of the room is completely covered in paintings and tapestries depicting the battles between Dwarves, Gnolls and creatures of the dark lands. At the far end of the room is a large fireplace that is currently burning logs to heat the room accompanied by the smell of cooking beef stew but you notice there is no pot above the fire. You notice that in the corner of your room you can see the dragon egg you picked, or what is left of it. Your heart stops as you see it is broken and almost completely destroyed within the special heating alcove it was placed it, running over to it you can see a strange trail of yellow-ish slime leading from the egg to the fireplace. As your gaze follows the strange yellow trail you can see the pot which had your food in on the floor with its content spilled along with the culprit that did it. A two foot silver lizard with a strange quill ontop of its head as well as a smaller one under its chin, the strange lizard also has a small set of wings on its back. You suddenly realize what it is as it gnaws upon a piece of beef it picks out of the spilled content of the pot, this is the dragon within the egg, and it has hatched early! What do you do? do you leave it be and observe it? do you try to talk to and interact with it? do you quickly run out of the room to try and find the dragon lord Modeus? (Your dragon appearance is this, but smaller: http://images.wikia.com/forgottenrealms/images/3/37/Silver_dragon_-_Lars_Grant-West.jpg )

Avariss: Finally being lead to a room after yet another seemingly very long walk through the hallways you open the door to the place where you will be living in for the next ten years. The room that you enter is designed and furnished to similar standards of the Dark Elves of the north, having black marble sculpture and paintings that depict great battles against the dark lands. In the center of the room is a table that seats six people complete with everything needed for a meal. Build into the far end of the room is a fireplace with a pot situated above it cooking something, your elven nose tells you it is tundra mammoth stew, something you haven't eaten in a very long time. Next to the fireplace is a specially built heating alcove filled with heated coals upon which is seated the egg that you had chosen earlier on. Covering the left side of the room is an immense bookcase filled with books all written in elven which will require investigating later. Against the right side of the room is the bed which you will be sleeping in. Now that you have an hour to rest and do what you wish before the dwarf comes and collects you for, what you guess is another round of training, you need to decide what you will do. Will you simply go lay on the bed and sleep? go and have some of the mammoth stew that is cooking? or go have a look to see what books are on the book case.

Kell: Entering your room you can see that is appears to be made to the style of your homeland, having paintings and tapestries of great human battles and heroes on some of its walls. Against the right wall is your bed along with a book case completely filled with books written in the human language, you are able to make out one of the titles "Dragon Species and their traits, Written by Lord Modeus" you guess that the books are all about dragons from that single book. Walking over to your bed along with looking around the room you can see that in the center is a table that seats six people which already has all bowls, plates, cutlery and goblets placed out. In the back left corner by the door is a dummy that is clearly designed for you to practice with your blades. On the right wall is a fireplace that is currently cooking some sort of stew. As you finally get to your bed you notice that the dragon egg you picked is in a special heating alcove but you are horrified to see it is broken and destroyed, but before you can do anything you notice movement in the bottom of the vision before something sweeps out from under your bed and knocks you straight off your feet and onto your front. Turning your head so not to slam your nose into the floor you are able to see into the darkness where two bright green eyes stare out at you accompanied by a slight low growl. Should you reach into grab it you notice what ever it is allows you to, as you pull it out you notice its a two foot long purple-grey lizard with semi-see through wings, you notice it is also partially covered in the grey slime that is also inside of the egg in the heating alcove. Holding it by the back of the neck like it dangles there in your grasp staring at you with its green eyes and is partially bearing its wicked looking teeth. This must be the dragon that was within the egg, and it has hatched early! What do you do? do you leave it be and observe it? do you try to talk to and interact with it? do you quickly run out of the room to try and find the dragon lord Modeus? But you are slightly annoyed that the first thing you dragon did was attack you. (Your dragon appearance but smaller: http://images.wikia.com/forgottenrealms/images/1/1e/1417517-1.jpg )

Bjor: Entering your room you can see that it is similar in design and furnishings to how your own people have their homes. On the floor are Tundra Wolf rugs and on the walls there are carvings of some of the great and legendary North-man heroes. At the far end of your room is a bed and training dummy which is for you to use when you wish to train. Against the right wall you see that a bookcase is there with loads of books all oddly written in the language of the north, also on that wall is a wooden door that will need to be investigated later. Against the left wall is a large fireplace that is currently cooking tundra mammoth stew which reminds you of home and next to the fire place is a strange heating alcove where you guess your dragon egg is. Before you have a chance to go and check on the egg you notice something you missed earlier. In the center of the room, sat ontop of a table that seats eight is a two foot black lizard, with small curved horns, and a yellow scale underbelly with its small black wings folded against its back. It just sits there staring at you with its green eyes before finally opening its mouth to let out a yawn, as it closes its mouth it opens it once again and actually starts talking. "I take it your the one who is going to feed me some of that interesting smelling liquid inside of that pot there, human?" it says in a low but oddly feminine voice. This is the dragon within the egg, and it has hatched early! What do you do? do you leave it be and observe it? do you try to talk to and interact with it? do you quickly run out of the room to try and find the dragon lord Modeus? (Your dragons appearance, but smaller: http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs25/f/2008/037/a/0/Sinistre_black_dragon_by_Rhynn.jpg )

OOC: G0arr, Santaire and Midge, i require you to pm me your names for your dragons so i can finish up their information sheers. The following is what gender they are:
G0arr/Uthaits: Female
Santaire/Extraxi: Female
Midge/Andelath: Male


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor entered his room and took in its furnishings, the Lord Modeus was most certainly trying to make him feel at home. Tundra fur rugs were on the floor and his bed, large depictions of Norse Heroes hung on the walls and a there was a bookcase full of books written in the language of his people. Strange, not many outside of his own people knew his home language, and fewer more knew how to read and right in the ancient runes that they used. 

He could smell tundra mammoth stew and smiled as he stripped himself down to just the leather pants that he was wearing. A strange wooden door was set into the wall and he cocked his head as he wondered what lay behind it, he heard a yawn and turned to see something that he had completely missed when he had entered his room, a two foot long black lizard sat on top of the table of his room with its wings closed tightly around its back. 

_"I take it your the one who is going to feed me some of that interesting smelling liquid inside of that pot there, human?"_ His dragon was talking, and it was a female from the sounds of it. Most people would be dumbfounded that such a small dragon would speak to them but Bjor simply smiled and filled two bowls with the stew before sitting at the table and putting one in front of the dragon.

*"I have a name young one and it is Bjor. I am a Norseman and we are much stronger than normal humans."* he paused as he took in a mouthful of food and almost swallowed it whole before speaking again,* "I am a berserker in battle, the specifics of this you will learn soon enough I expect, but for now I suppose we must come up with a name for you."* he paused again and decided to tell the dragon a story of his people. He told her the story of the great woman warrior Minerva and how she had saved his people from an ancient and old evil that had lived in the wastes, she was a goddess in battle both beautiful and powerful and none could stand before her.

She was a titanic force on the battlefield but once she had defeated that most primal evil that had plagued her people for centuries she was attacked by a family of Ice Drakes while on her way home. She had killed four out of the five of them but by the time the fifth one was on her she had sustained so many injuries that her defeat seemed immenant. Yet she survived, she fell into a berserker rage and slaughtered the final drake before making her way home where she finally fell into a coma because of her injuries and has yet to wake. 

The shrine where she was kept had since been lost to legend but it is said that her soul lives on in the fiercest of female warriors and gives them strength when they think that they are truly defeated. His dragon simply listened as it ate and Bjor smiled as she finished before him,* "This is what I wish to name you, Minerva, after the warrior goddess. For when I first touched your egg I felt power and now that I see you with mein own two eyes I know that you are filled with it....like me."* he smiled before getting up and filling the two bowls again so that they could continue eating.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat lowered the papers and was hit with the smell of food. At the far end of the room sat a fireplace. Above it was a covered pot containing what smelt like some kind of stew. As he glanced around still holding the papers the high elf was surprised. There was a table with places for 6 already spread out. Curious as there was only one person here now. Had they moved several others out in order to accommodate only him?

The left wall caught his eye. There was a desk complete with ink and quill, everything Uthiat would need to remake the maps. Behind the desk and reaching the entire length were bookshelves. A smile slowly formed on the high elf’s face. Row upon row of books. Perhaps here he would have time to read them. For years he had tried to gather information from the different areas that he had visited. Normally he could only acquire a book here and a book there. He had never really kept any of them for an extended period of time. Those that he enjoyed might have been read several times before selling or trading them to get another. 

The high elf moved to the desk and sat down his belongings. His fingers ran back and forth over the spines and mumbled to himself. “Interesting, good book read it several times, interesting, mythology… Oh this looks promising.” The smile continued as he slowly sat. The smell of the stew continued to fill his nostrils. Uthiat turned toward the fireplace, and something caught his eye.

Sitting against the far wall was a bed, but beside it sat an egg. The alcove it was in appeared very well thought out. It was built to maintain enough heat to incubate the egg. Uthiat moved toward it and looked carefully at it all. “Interesting,” he said turning toward the bed. With one hand the high elf tested it. Not straw, always a good sign. That meant it was more comfortable than most of the inns he had become accustomed to visiting.

Uthiat returned to the desk and spread out the papers. He might as well try to get something finished before Modeus or one of the dwarves returned for them. Still that stew smelt delightful. Uthiat reached into his traveling pouch and retrieved the last of his muscadine. He recalled Modeus’s words _“…you will be able to rest for an hour before they come to collect you for a meal. Is that all understood?"._ As the high elf began to slow work of copying the map onto a blank piece of his own parchment he sniffed the air again. As he popped one of the grape like fruits into his mouth Uthiat reminded himself they would be back in an hour to get him.


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## Midge913

As Andaleth entered the room he had been shown to he was taken aback at the grandeur of it. He was used to theives warrens and the seedy inns in the bad sides of towns. He thought that it must be a mistake that this room was to be his. His apprehension evaporated quickly though as he caught the smell of lamb stew and most importantly saw the large bed at the far end of the room. Stripping out of his leather armor, Andaleth immediately took a portion of the simmering stew from the pot, and sat down at the table to eat. As he did he took in the expanse of his quarters. Decorated in lots of grey stone and dark hardwood as was the style of his homeland, with heavy carpets on the floor and fragrant wood on the fire, Andaleth thought that this apprenticeship, grueling as it was sure to be, was worth the accomodations alone regardless of what he would learn.

As he finished his stew the thought of what he would learn during his time under Lord Modeus returned as did his curiosity. Wandered about the room, noting windows, and doors, placement of furniture, and decorations. It was an old habit that died hard, knowing the entrances and exits from a room, as well as the layout. One never knew when a speedy escape would be necessary. As he walked he stopped and perused the bookshelf. Volumes on dragon lore, care, and physiology appeared to make up the majority of the tomes, but here and there were books dedicated to the arcane arts, swordsmanship, tactics, history, and mythology. No doubt over the course of his studies he would be required to read them all. 

His journey around his quarters lead him to the far corners of the room, where he saw a door that lead out of the room and filed that away for later investigation as his attention was filled with the specially constructed alcove in the corner. Nestled in hot coals and warmers was the egg he had selected two days hence. Its slate gray surface reflecting the light of the room and captivating him. He laid a hand on the top of the egg, felt its warmth, and again felt the passing flutter of a presence flitting across his mind. He felt, for the first time in a long time, that he had found a home and a purpose. 

He thought it prudent to grab a quick nap before being summoned again by Lord Modeus so he flung himself down on the soft looking mattress and breathed a heavy sigh of contentment as he found a comfortable position and allowed sleep to take him.


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## komanko

Another walk, it seemed like there was no end to Modeus’s mountain fort. The dwarf who led him kept his distance from him, probably shocked or just alarmed from Avariss’s previous actions. It was unexpected, even for Avariss, as it has never happened before, he was not even aware that Voice could possess his body and the revelation made a huge impact on him. Avariss decided that he would have to be more careful, especially when it came to magic as for some reason he got the feeling that Voice is stronger when magic is around them. Avariss reached this conclusion as he noticed that Voice is not talking as much as he did during the battle, especially when Avariss was casting. Yet there was also a chance that extreme emotions are also a way to make Voice more powerful. He knew that he will have to control his emotions or at least try to, and he will also have to stay calm to avoid such emotions surfacing in addition it was necessary for Avariss to discover what was the origin of Voice as he could not remember for some reason when Voice became part of him and how. Suddenly the dark and long hallway ended and two ways stretched in front of him and the dwarf. The dwarf turned right and Avariss followed. After another five minutes of walking while pondering about the recent events the dwarf finally stopped and pointed at a door to the right, Avariss nodded and thanked the dwarf quickly.

The dwarf then began walking away, quite quickly; it looked like he was trying to get away from the presence of Avariss. Now he was completely unsure why, maybe because of him being a warlock… Or maybe because his outburst earlier… Yet it did not matter, the fact was that Avariss was left alone and he had a meager one hour to rest or and prepare for the upcoming meeting with Modeus. 

Before entering the room he looked at the door, it was made out of wood, oak probably as it was sturdy and could last for a long time. Avariss looked at the door thoroughly, scouring it for any sign of a trap or for a sign of an intruder in the room yet he could find nothing. He did not know what to expect from Modeus but the door seemed to be fine and not some sort of a trap, so he stepped inside.

It was quite inside, comfortable, warm. Even before stepping in he knew that he had to like the room as he would be living in it for a long time… Yet the room surpassed any expectation he ever had. The room itself resembled his own personal room at the city, that of course before he was banished. The sculptures from black marble, the pictures of great battles, those were all too familiar to Avariss, it made a sense of nostalgia hit him. While he was walking through the new room he was actually walking in his memories, he was walking in his personal quarters at his family’s house. He passed his hand on the table in the middle, sliding it from one side to the other slowly, continuing to move he passed by the burning fireplace, he reached out with his hands to warm them up…on the fireplace was a pot, and something was cooking inside of it, tundra mammoth by the smell of it. Last time he ate something as fancy as that was before his exile, which meant that a long time has passed. Avariss smelled the stew but he did not touch it, he remembered that Modeus said that they will have a meal at the hall so he simply moved on, looking around a little more his memory suddenly shattered as he saw the egg, it was certainly not part of his memory and thus the memory broke kicking Avariss out of it. The egg was lying on top of what seemed to be a specially made heating alcove, its purpose was quite clear… It served as an incubator for the egg, as it had to keep warm to stay alive. 

There was no time to look at the magnificent egg though as Avariss needed to rest, badly. Turning around he saw a bed just on the other side of the room, next to the bed stood a bookcase, it was huge, tomes nearly falling out of it. Most of them probably about dragons… Avariss took a quick look at the books and saw that most of them were written by Modeus himself, Avariss sighed… It was never a good thing to read something only from one point of view. Deciding to rest Avariss took off his robes, leaving him in his leather pants; he then decided to move things a bit. He pushed the bed around and made it face the egg thus making Avariss able to see the egg from where he slept. As he moved the bad he pushed the bookcase by mistake and some of the books fell to the ground, Avariss did not bother picking them up and only after he finished moving the bed he gathered the books and put them on top of the table in the center of the room, he then took all the cutlery and plates and moved it to the side of the room, thus making the big table his work table. He then began unloading his stuff from the backpack he was carrying with him, his personal belongings which included some extra clothing, books, old items of sentimental worth and a basic alchemical set which he carried with him from his house as he did not want to leave such a valuable thing there. After setting all those items in various places Avariss moved towards the bed and as quickly as he moved towards it he fell asleep on top of it.


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## Santaire

Extraxi looked around the interior of his room. It had changed a lot since he had dropped off his stuff. he saw that it had been built and furnished in the style of the Dark Elves of the north, with sculptured pillars depicting battles between the elves and the creatures of the dark-lands. He smiled, noticing an image of a figure dragging a snow bear towards a Dark Elf fortress. "Obviously wants to remind me of my past successes and victories," he said.

There was a target set up on one side of the room so that he could stand at the other side and practice with his bow, which he now placed carefully on a stand obviously set up with it in mind. To his left was a well stocked fireplace with a sizzling pot of what smelled like Tundra Mammoth stew. He licked his lips for it was a while since he had tasted such food. In the center of the room was a table and 4 chairs with the cutlery, plates and bowls already laid out. At the far end of the room was his bed. and to the right of his bed was the dragon egg he had chosen. It did not require heating for it was so cold that the ground around it had partially frozen two foot in every direction and even frosted part of the wall.

There was also an unopened wooden door inbetween the bed and his dragon egg. The ground was covered by the fur pelts of snow bears. He walked to his bed and sat down. He cradled his head in his hands and remembered...

It had been 20 years previous, he had been hunting through the forest when he came across a trail. He had followed the tracks to a huge cave in a cliff. He had gone inside. Inside was a snow bear and it's cubs. The beasts had fought to the death to protect something deeper in the cave. He had stalked through the tunnels and come to a female bear. It was swollen with pregnancy and had a Dark Elf in it's claws. And that Dark Elf, he shuddered at the memory, had been his dear younger brother, Vanik, he was dead because of Extraxi.

Two days later, Extraxi dragged the dead mother back to the city with a rope. His brother's corpse cradled in his arms. He had fallen to his knees and offered up his brother so that he could be buried in a way beffiting a prince. On that day Extraxi had sworn an oath to honour his brother's memory and so had joined the military and offered his skills as a ranger...

Extraxi stood up from the bed and went to have some stew, after that he would do some archery practice and then study the diary he had brought with him that contained everything he had found out about dragons...

So that he would not have time to remember more...


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## Angel of Blood

Kell turned his back on the dwarf and then began to make his way over to one of the dwarves. He had taken no less than five steps from Avariss when suddenly somebody grabbed him from behind and he felt the cold metal of a blade pressed to his throat. Anger instantly raged up inside of him, but Kell was a survivor and not stupid, so he froze for the time being. A voice hissed in his ear "How will you watch me!? While you can barely watch yourself from that weak warlock that you mock! Your swordsmanship is as evil as the sorcery he uses!"

'Avariss..' Kell thought, still careful not to move, but no sooner had the elf hissed the words into Kells ears before letting him go and collapsing to his knees, after a moment he screamed out in agony. Kell looked down on him in disgust, his anger temporarily diverted as the elf screamed. And then he stopped, quickly stowed the knife away and started walking away witha quick glace at Kell. 

"You really think i'm going to let you get away with that" Kell snarled. As the elf walked away from him, Kell drew his pistol and aimed it squarely at the elfs back. Some men might have hesitated about shooting someone in cold blood, unfortunaetly for Avariss, Kell was not one of these men. Kell pulled the trigger and the pistol bucked up hard into the air. Too hard.......

Kell glanced to his side to see Modeus now stood next to him, having forced Kells pistol into the air, forcing the round to harmlessly hit the ceiling. Kell glanced venomously at the High Lord "He will not got away with this" And stalked off after a dwarf, smoothly holstering his pistol as he did. 'One day the High Lord won't be there to watch the sorcerers back' he thought to himself 'And on that day there will be a reckoning' 

Evnetually they stopped outside of a door which the dwarf indicated was his room before continuing on down the corridor. Kell opened the door and stepped into what would be his first proper room for himself, having lived in the streets, barracks or inns his whole life up until now. The room was richly decorated, more so than even the most expensive inns he had styed in before. The walls were decorated with grand tapestries depicting epic and heroic battles of men, a large bed took up one corner of the bed, with heavy furs and blankets adorning it. A large bookcase stood against the wall at Kell walked over to it, past a round table big enough for six people to sit at, complete with plates, bowls and cutlery. He thhumbed over the spine of one of the books to read the title, "Dragon Species and their traits, Written by Lord Modeus" To his side was a training dummy, complete with a rack to stow weapons on, he noticed that his swords which he had dropped in the arena were already towed in the rack.

He heard a crackle and spun around to see a fireplace set into one of the walls, but more importantly, what looked horrifingly like the remains of the egg he had picked when he arrived at the Hold. He was about to rush over and see if it really was the same egg when movement caught his attention at the corner of his eye. Before he could turn to look though, his legs were taken out from him and he slammed into the ground for what felt like the tenth time that day. He slowly turned his head to look at his side and saw two piercing bright green eyes peering out at him from under the bed. 

He slowly sat up and cautiously reached under the bed to take hold of what lay under there, already fairly certain of what it would be. It put up no resistance in being pulled out, even walking out on its own for the most part. He gasped in shock as what he was holding fully hit him. A dragon.

It was small, only about two foot from head to tail and obviously less developed, but a dragon all the same. It's scales were a dark purple-grey hue, and its leathery wings were semi transparent. Its long snout was full of razor sharp teeth and fangs, but for now it seemed completely docile, although having just attacked him Kell kept it held out at a respectable distance. 

Was it meant to have hatched so soon? Should he call the dwarf back or even Lord Modeus? More importantly was it going to attack him again? For now he layed it down on his bed and drew a chair from the table, sitting down to observe the drake. He felt like he was in a trance, the enormity of what lay infront of him still dumbing him into inaction. He actually had a dragon of his own! And what a dragon it was, he already felt a bond with it, having spent no longer than a few minutes with it, but an umistakeable connection all the same. It would need a name of course. As he looked at it, he remembered back to some of the old myths and legends he had heard as a child aout dragons and similar beasts, one name struck out to him in particular

"Typhon" He said out loud to the dragon.


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## revan4559

OOC: As most of you are asleep ill skip it forward an hour in the roleplay.

Andaleth: Quickly falling asleep your dreams start to take shape in the form of you riding upon a great dragon leading armies in battle against the forces hailing from the Dark Lands, your magical power rivals that of the greatest mages and warlocks of the age and you feel like you could rule the world with your dragon at your side. Continuing your dragons of being a rider you quickly find yourself overseeing and helping negotiate a peace treaty between two kingdoms, The Kingdoms of Men and a newly formed kingdom of Lizard men. Eventually though your dreams are shattered by a loud banging to which forces you awake, sitting up you rub the sleep from your eyes and have a small stretch before moving to the door, upon opening the door you can see a rather gruff dwarf with a grey beard beckon you to follow him which ends up leading you though the many passage ways back to the main hall.

Extraxi: As you eat some of the mammoth stew and start to read your diary on what you know of dragons you look up at the book case and notice that many of the books are written by Modeus on the subjects of dragons. Moving over and picking one up you notice that what is contained in your single book fills several dozen books on the shelf, clearly your knowledge of dragons is tiny in comparison to Lord Modeus. Walking back to your bed with a book on ice dragons you sit down and start to compare the book with your diary to see how much of what you know is correct about their species while finishing off your stew. During your studying you are interrupted by a banging at the door, walking over to it and opening you can see a dwarf with a black braided beard who proceeds to motion for you to follow him. Putting your your book down on the table you follow the dwarf through the many hallways of the keep back to the main hall.

Uthiat: You lose yourself in copying the maps onto new pieces of parchment after having broken some of them earlier during your battle with the Hydra and Giant, you enjoy the warmth given off by the still burning fire and the heating alcove and you have gotten used to the crackling of the flames as they burn the wood and coals fueling them into ash. Eventually though you are called away from your work by a loud knocking on the door to your room. Moving swiftly from the maps to the door you open it to find a annoyed looking dwarf standing there with his arms folded. "Took you long enough to answer didnt it Elf? Well Lord Modeus has said to collect you for the meal, i hope you can hold your liquer tree-hugger." With that rather rude insult the dwarf motions with a wave for you to follow him as he procceds to lead you back to the main hall where you will have a meal with the others. On the way you wonder what kind of food and drinks the dwarves have prepared.

Torak: OOC: Need you to post a reply to the last update, then like the others you will be collected and can take your dragon to the main hall if you want.

Avariss: After falling asleep you start to dream of riding ontop of a great black dragon over looking an ongoing battle between the Dark Elves and the undead from the Dark Lands. From your vantage point ontop of your dragon you hurl fel fireballs down into the ranks of the undead along with conjouring up massive storms of fel lightning, below you can hear the Dark Elves chanting your name as they hack down the undead. You feel respected, powerful and happy for the very first time in a very long time. But alas your happiness is not to last as is the price of those who deal with Fel Magic, you quickly find yourself next to your dragon staring at a mirrior that reflects your appearance, you have sprouted horns from your head, you eyes glow with dark fire and your hands have become talons. As for your dragon its body has start to split and now the dark green of fel flames burns through the gaps in its body. Eventually you are pulled from staring at what you have become back into the real world as a knocking at the door wakes you, quickly donning your robe you walk over to it and open it which reveals a dwarf with dark brown hair. He motions for you to follow him and eventually leads you back to the main hall.

Kell: After setting your dragon down upon your bed you decide to call it Typhon, which gets the respone of the dragon tilting its head slightly before moving into the stance of a pouncing cat. Wondering what it is going to do you soon find out as it pounces at you and head butts you in the face knocking you off your chair and onto your back. Typhon then proceeds to run around the room for the next out, continually attacking you when your guard is down but occasionally stops to jump up at the pot in the fireplace, trying to get at the food. After spending an hour with your energetic and seemingly partially insane dragon there is a knock at the door, walking over and opening it you can see a black haired dward looking at you. "Time to go see the High Lord, you can bring your friend if you want" Says the dwarf as he points at the small dragon before waiting for you to follow him to the main hall. Whether you take Typhon with you or not is up to you, but you would have boasting rights over the others if you did.

Bjor: For most of the time your dragon is with you it mainly listens to what you have to say and rarely speaks as it continues to eat the lumps of mammoth meat out of the stew before lapping up the rest with her tongue. Yet you notice that when she does speak and needs to refer to you by name she simply calls you "North-Man" instead of actually calling you Bjor. You guess this is because you had heard Black Dragon's are pretty arrogant and see most mortal races as below them, yet you hope that eventually she will change and start to act more friendly to you. As you continue to tell Minerva of your homeland there is a knock at your door which you go to answer, upon opening it you can see a dwarf with a light blonde beard looking up at you. "Time to go the main hall North-Man Bjor" The Dward then looks at your dragon. "Bring the little lizard if you want aswell, im sure The Dragon Lord would be happy to see its hatched" Whether you take your dragon with you is up to you. But after your decision you follow the dwarf back to the main hall(with or withouth Minerva, your choice).

Everyone: After all being lead to the main hall to see Lord Modeus you see that the activaty in the room has changed completely. The hall is filled with dwarves and other apprentices sat at tables eating, drinking and laughing loudly. It seems there is a large feast going on as you look around the room you can see huge mountain boars being cooked over blazing files, you can see many different pots of steaming stew which have many different ingrediants. There are barrels and barrels of ale that are constantly being visited by the dwarves and other apprentices as they wish to get a drink, on some of the tables you can see wine bottles for those apprentices who prefer to have something less fierces as Dwarven Ale. Sat at the head of the biggest table is the High Lord Modeus and directly to his right is King Grungar of the Iron-Hammer clan. But what does take your breath away is the fact that not only is Modeus's own dragon in the hall, but several other smaller dragons aswell that dart about the place looking for food, sitting infront of their riders or simply asleep on the ground next to the huge fires. Eventually the High Lord looks at you and the others and calls over to you. "Now my latest apprentices! Feel free to eat and drink as much as you like!" With that the High Lord raises his goblet to you in a drinking salute before going back to talk to Grungar. (Those of you with Hatched dragons that you brought to the hall feel free to show them to the other apprentices and even Modeus)


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi ate a bowl of the delicious Tundra Mammoth stew while he read through his diary, focusing mainly on Ice Dragons as that was obviously the species of his dragon considering the ice less than half a metre away from his foot. He stood and looked at the book case next to his bed and noticed that evidently every book was much more informative about each dragon species than his small diary.

He studied the book shelf and saw what he was looking for. He picked up a book titled 'Apprentice diary' and another one named 'The study and knowledge of Ice Dragons' and walked back to his bed so that he could check his notes for the Dragon High Lord would obviously have much more knowledge of the dragons than he did. 

He began jotting down the differences and similarities in his new ice coloured diary. He was interrupted by a harsh knocking at the door. He stood, walked over and opened it revealing a dwarf with a black braided beard who proceeded to motion curtly for Extraxi to follow him. 

Putting the book down on the table he followed the dwarf out the room and through the many hallways of the keep back to the main hall. Entering the main hall he saw that the activity within had changed completely. It was packed with other apprentices and dwarves sitting at the tables eating, drinking and laughing loudly. Their was obviously a feast going on for their were huge mountain boars roasting on fires and barrels upon barrels of ale as well as different types of stew and wine bottles for those apprentices too weak stomached to manage drinking the potent dwarven ale.

Modeus and King Grungar of the Iron Hammer dwarven clan were sat at the largest table as well as, and this took Extraxi's breath away, several dragons including Modeus' huge beast that were either darting around the place looking for food, sitting in front of their riders or simply asleep in front of the fires.

Eventually the High Lord looked at Extraxi and the others who had entered with him and called. "Now my latest apprentices! Feel free to eat and drink as much as you like!" With that the High Lord raised his goblet to them in a drinking salute before going back to talk to Grungar.

Extraxi poured himself a tankard of ale and then sat, sipping it, untouched by the chaos around him. He also collected a plate piled high with meat from one of the great mountain boars.


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## G0arr

*Uthait Alenaneldth*

The fire crackled as it gave off the warmth. The room was quiet, and the lighting across the desk was sufficient. Uthiat smiled as he worked. This place reminded him of several libraries he visited. Those were long hours of study, and recreation. The fondest memories came from another dwarfish land. The clan had kept many journals and other works to mark their past. Something that surprised the elf was the vast quantity of books from local tradesmen. That had been several weeks of joy. The massive number of tomes was combined with the local trade. It was there he had acquired a respect for the dwarfish ale. Uthiat quickly learned his own limits as well. “So long ago,” he whispered dipping the quill again. 

The second map was coming along smoothly when someone knocked. Uthiat turned in his seat. Another knock. “One moment,” the elf said placing the quill back into the pot. The knocking became more impatient. “Terribly sorry,” he said opening the door after rushing across the room. Outside there was a very annoyed looking dwarf. He glared from behind his folded arms. _"Took you long enough to answer didnt it Elf? Well Lord Modeus has said to collect you for the meal, i hope you can hold your liquer tree-hugger,"_ The dwarf rumbled. Uthiat glanced back to the table, and then to the rude little one. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said remembering the promise they had given to Modeus after their arrival. The dwarf turned and waved for the elf to follow. Uthiat snatched up one of his small bags as he walked into the hallway.

The walk didn’t take long. Uthiat tried to think of what would be a customary meal for this area. Stone or black bread was a staple for dwarves. Ale of several different types. The stew back in the room made him wonder what else they would serve. The stew itself wasn’t something that the dwarves prepared fro themselves. Still the question of the table and placings had him wondering as well.

The main hall had changed significantly since the apprentices had been in it earlier. It was filled with many different individuals. There were tables everywhere, and they were filled with bodies. Dwarves, humans, some elves, there were hundreds. To one side were the cooking spits, to another there were drinks. Something that caught the elf’s eye was Modeus’s dragon. The beast was sitting near a table. As the shock disappeared Uthiat began to see other beasts. There were dragons of many shapes and colors spotted around the hall. There were some with their ‘masters’, others simply looking for food, and more that were sleeping. “Oh my,” the elf said moving into the room.

So many apprentices were here. It was awe-inspiring to think that each would be taught to ride, and to fight. Uthiat smiled at the thought as he gathered some food. He then picked a table with a familiar face. It was the dark elf from the pit, the one who wielded a bow. Strangely enough Uthiat couldn’t remember this elf introducing himself.

As Uthiat slid into a seat and placed a tankard of ale and a glass on the table he smiled to the dark elf. “You did good work in the arena. An archer, and a good one if I am one to judge. I have thought of taking up the trade myself but never had a good reason to. Perhaps this apprenticeship may change that. Oh but where are my manners, my name is Uthait Alenaneldth friend, and what might I call you?” Uthiat took a sip from the glass and waited for a response. He wasn’t ready for the ale just yet. By the smell of it the dwarves made it very potent here, and the elf didn’t want to end up drunk.

//

_"I agree completely. You are quite a shot Master Elf."_ A human spoke before gesturing to a open seat. _" Would you mind if I joined you?"_ Uthait glanced over. It was the one from the arena, Andaleth Veto if memory served correctly. "By all means," Uthiat said. As the human sat the elf pushed back the sleeves on his robe and pulled a piece of meat off his plate, and began to eat without silverware. "So my friend, Andaleth if I remember correctly, it seamed that you were not to join us in our 'training' today. Might I ask what is it that you do?"


The northman sat next, but he carried a small creature with him. It was a small dragon. Uthiat looked at it with amazement. Were the others going to hatch so soon? 
*"Greetings friends. Have your eggs also hatched?"* Uthiat glanced to him. "Sorry to say mine has not," the elf said watching the little thing move. "Amazing," he said, "when did it hatch?" Uthiat continued to watch the little thing for a molment before returning to his own meal.


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## Midge913

Andaleth passed into a deep sleep rather quickly and he began to dream. He felt the the wind in his hair as he soared through the air on the back of his great drake. He felt the connection that he had with the dragon, the mental link that allowed him to take strength from the beast. He had power..... so much power. Years ago, when he first began his apprenticeship he would have been fearful of the forces he wielded. Now, after so long, the were an extension of him. With such power he could rule the world. None could stand against him..... Sirrush let out a roar and soared even higher, racing across the sky. Masters of their domain, Andaleth thought. 

His dreams changed, a rider he was still, but now he was acting as a diplomat. Forging a treaty between the Kingdoms of Men and the Kingdom of the Lizardmen. Sirrush, large and imposing sat behind him, a contant reminder to the parties involved the power he wielded. He knew that this power was to be used for the betterment of all, and the signing of this treaty brought him great satisfaction. As if it was something that he had been working for for sometime. Sirrush evidently felt the same, a low throaty grumble rumbled from him, as the signing was complete. Patting his dragons large foreleg Andaleth smiled.........

Any further dreams were interrupted by a rather impatient banging at his door. Rolling over out of bed he caught sight of his egg once again. Placing a hand on the egg once again he said, "One day little one..." He felt contentment yet the lust for domination come pouring through from the dragon inside. The banging at the door continued.

He opened the door to find a grey bearded dwarf waiting impatiently in the hallway. "Lord Modeus requires your presence in the great hall," he said and without another word turned and started down the hall. Andaleth followed. There was something about the gruff directness of the Dwarves that he had come to appreciate in the last few days. Where some might find it insulting and uncouth, Andaleth found it refreshing after his years of subltety and intrigue in the thieves guild. 

Before he even entered the hall, he was hit with the smell of food, and as he came into the room he found that it was markedly different in appearance from when he was last here. Large tables filled the room laden with food and drink. There were people everywhere and it appeared that the entirety of Clan Ironhammer was in attendance. Andaleth looked to where Modeus sat, and was taken aback by the vingette that the Dragon Lord and his Dragon made...... It was identical to how Andaleth had seen himself in his dream. Smiling Andaleth continued to scan the room and here and there he darts and flashes of color bounded about the hall. At first he was confused, and then he realized that they were young dragons. They were everywhere, stealing scraps of food, wrestling each other for choicest tidbits of meat, or resting next to their riders. Andaleth felt a strange kinship with these people, something he had not felt or needed in a long time. They were to be a unique fraternity, Dragon Riders, lords of the land. 

Wasting no time Andaleth made for the tables of food and drink to serve himself, as he was filling his plate Lord Modeus broke away from his conversation with King Grungar and said, "Now my latest apprentices! Feel free to eat and drink as much as you like!" 

A smashing idea Andaleth thought as he filled his plate to the brim with a little of everything available and got himself a mug of ale. I smiled as he remembered his last enounter with Dwarven Ale, he had made himself quite a bit of coin on that occasion. He looked and saw Uthiat and one of the Dark Elves sitting together. He walked over and heard that they were discussing the fight in the arena. 

“You did good work in the arena. An archer, and a good one if I am one to judge. I have thought of taking up the trade myself but never had a good reason to. Perhaps this apprenticeship may change that. Oh but where are my manners, my name is Uthait Alenaneldth friend, and what might I call you?” Uthiat was saying to the the Dark Elf. 

Andaleth approached and said, "I agree completely. You are quite a shot Master Elf." He gestured to the open seat next to Uthiat. " Would you mind if I joined you?"


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor jerked his head in the direction of the dwarf on the other side of his door and said to Minerva, *"Come, we are going to dinner."*

They walked through the halls in relative silence, Bjor was never really one for small talk and to be honest he was looking forward to the mead and good food that he knew was awaiting them in the dining hall. They made it there relatively quick, the hall was filled with other apprentices and dragons all of different ages and sizes, he spied the group he had fought beside and made his way over to them before taking an empty seat near the keg on the table. 

He reached down to the ground and picked Minerva up, grabbing her by the scruff of the neck and setting her down on the bench next to him. Despite how it looked it was gentle and caused no harm to her, in fact it was a training technique that the men of the North used with their pet wolves when they were young to teach them who was master, words need not be used to put a beast in its place for actions spoke louder than words. 

She looked at him before he filled a smaller cup with a little bit of mead and put it in front of her along with a huge haunch of meat,* "Eat and drink little one, you will need all the strength you can muster during our training to come....."* he paused before saying,* "And no dragon of mine is going to be out-drunk by another so drink up."* Her little wings fluttered a bit before gently closing around her back again as she dug into the meat, snorting as she slowly tasted the mead, this made Bjor laugh. He looked at the others who had sat at the table and nodded at them before downing his mead,* "Greetings friends. Have your eggs also hatched?"*


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## Santaire

“You did good work in the arena. An archer, and a good one if I am one to judge. I have thought of taking up the trade myself but never had a good reason to. Perhaps this apprenticeship may change that. Oh but where are my manners, my name is Uthait Alenaneldth friend, and what might I call you?” The High Elf mage from the arena asked as he sat down.

Before Extraxi could respond a human spoke "I agree completely. You are quite a shot Master Elf."Would you mind if I joined you?" Extraxi spoke up and said, "My name is Extraxi Veho, an Elf of the ice lands."

The human and Elf nodded before launching into a conversation. "So my friend, Andaleth if I remember correctly, it seamed that you were not to join us in our 'training' today. Might I ask what is it that you do?" A northman sat next, the one who had wielded the cursed, vampiric axe. He had a small dragon beside him. He asked them "Greetings friends. Have your eggs also hatched?"


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## Angel of Blood

When Kell spoke 'Typhon' out aloud the dragon cocked its head to one side. "Aye little one, that will be your name from now on". The drake seemed to accept this and then hunched low into what looked alarmingly like an attacking stance, before Kell could begin to react Typhon leapt of the bed and headbutted Kell to the ground.

"What the hell was that for!" Kell spluttered out. Typhon didn't answer, instead seemingly content on racing around the room knocking chairs over and books off the shelf, Kell noted its for now tiny wings uselessly beating as it went, he also noted the wings seemed to be trailing a thin trail of smoke as they did.

With a sigh Kell pulled a random book off the shelf, seemingly about the various species of dragons. He sat down in one of the chairs, trying to ignore the seemingly insane and constantly moving dragon. He had only just started reading the books index when he suddenly noticed that Typhon had stopped moving. He slowly looked up to look for him, he looked first directly ahead, then to his left and right, with a dawning sense of trepidation Kell slowly turned look behind him. As soon as he did Typhon pounced. 

Quicker to react this time and with his guard up, he caught Typhon around the neck and held him at arms length. "Would you stop attacking me!" He yelled angrily. The newborn seemed to go limp in his grip and looked at him it what was unmistakably a look of sadness. He was about to put him down again when he heard a knock at the door. He opened it to find a dwarf awaiting him. "Time to go see the High Lord, you can bring your friend if you want" he grunted at Kell. 

"Well little one, looks like we have a party to attend" He said and followed the dwarf back through the winding corridors, once again ending up in the main hall. The hall was now packed with others though. Humans, dwarves and elves alike, and more suprisingly, other dragons. Most also looking still quite young, although still notieably larger than Typhon. He spied the other apprentices he had arrived with sat around a table, also seeing that Bjor also had a newly hatched dragon with him. He neglected sitting with the others, instead making his way over to the High Lord at the high table.

"Lord Modeus, as you can see my dragon has obviously hatched, more pressingly though it will not stop attacking me! Would you care to enlighten me as to why?"


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## Midge913

"So my friend, Andaleth if I remember correctly, it seamed that you were not to join us in our 'training' today. Might I ask what is it that you do?" Uthiat asked. 

"It was by Modeus' command that I did not join you in the arena today," Andaleth began in reply. 

"I had my own trial by combat when I arrived two days ago. I must say though that where my opponent was tough, that Hydra was impressive. I am not sure what Modeus meant for me to learn today, but I did see that you all were impressive in the use of your skills and abilities," Andaleth continued. " I think we all have much to learn from the Dragon Lord," he said with a nod of his head in the direction of his new master.

"But to answer your question friend, I have a varied skill set. I have been many things thief, messenger, assassin, and my skills complement those occupations. I only hope to learn more about my abilities and to improve them over the course of this apprenticeship."

As Andaleth finished this statment the large Northman who had fought in the arena today came up to the table and took an empty seat at the end. Andaleth couldn't help but notice that he had a small jet black dragon with him. Andaleth felt an pang of longing and jealousy at the fact that this dragon had hatched mere hours after its riders arrival and his had still yet to hatch after two days.

"Greetings friends. Have your eggs also hatched?" The Northman said as he sat down. 

"Unfortunately.... no," Andaleth replied, "I do hope that mine will soon though. I am sorry friend but we haven't been properly introduced. I am Andaleth Veto. Pleasure to meet you." Andaleth offered his hand in greeting to the Northman and awaited his response.


----------



## komanko

Avariss stared at the black egg in front of him, he felt like a dark glow was surrounding it yet it could have been just him, the light which the torches near the egg emitted seemed to be swallowed by the egg itself, making everything near it darker… This was amazingly tantalizing and soon Avariss was hypnotized by the weird thing, so hypnotized in fact that he began falling asleep, realizing to late that the darkness in the edge of his view was not emitting from the egg but from the sleep that befell him.

Sadly sleep did not bless him quickly, he was too tired to even sleep properly and for what seemed like an eternity to him he was stuck between what seemed to be dream and reality, not able to embrace sleep yet resting at the same time, it was a weird feeling which he did not feel for quite a long time, such were the ways of magic, they tired the user to a degree which not warrior could understand.

Finally though, he forced upon himself sleep, closing shut his eyes and blocking himself from the surroundings around him, sadly it was not a dreamless sleep. Avariss opened his eyes just to find himself in the middle of the sky instead of his bed in Modeus’s fort, looking down he saw that he was seated on top of what seemed to be black scales, the sun reflecting from them which gave them a metallic look, it was indeed magnificent. Looking forward he saw that the thing he was riding on nothing else but a mighty black dragon. For a moment his black corrupted heart stopped beating, he even panicked for a moment, and looked behind just to see that the mighty beast was huge, even monstrous in size. Avariss was seated a little behind its mighty black scaled neck; two monstrously large horns were extending from the beasts head both having what seemed to be the color of bone, under those plates and along most of the creatures neck were black plates that were virtually indestructible by normal weaponry, the same plates black as night also covered the dragon’s tail, which also had several vicious looking spikes. Yet what amazed him the most was the beast’s wings, they were immense, so huge in fact that they could’ve been larger than the dragon himself, Dark brown leather was stretched from one bone to another, on the back side of the wings were black scales which were also partially covered by plates along with three claws extending out of both wings. Looking down at the earth below him Avariss could see the dragon’s legs and hands, his legs powerful and muscular were simply dangling in the air black plates covering them from harm, his feet, unlike the legs were not armored and only had scales yet three vicious looking claws extended from them. Unlike the legs and feet though the dragon’s hands seemed to be a little feebler, they were rather thin yet muscular nonetheless and similar to the feet, three black claws extended from the hands. The creature was indeed a thing to be reckoned, and that was Avariss’s thoughts from seating on top of the beast, he could not imagine what terror goes through the mind of the enemy when such a beast descends on top of him. 

Something distracted him from the beast though, looking down again he could see small figures and apparently they were fighting, feeling curious he wanted to get closer to the fighters yet he did not know what to say. It seemed that the beast was reading his mind as when those thoughts came the beast began descending slowly towards the battlefield below, as they got closer Avariss was finally able to see who and what were fighting below, he recognized the area, it was one of the more dangerous borders of the dark elven kingdom with the dark lands, and below them Dark Elves were fighting what seemed to be an army of undead, huge hordes of skeletons led by what seemed to be legendary death knights, behind those powerful liches were casting spells and creating havoc on the battlefield, killing friend and foe with no exception. It was something to behold yet Avariss felt the need to help is brethren defend against those undead hordes, he was unsure if it was simply because he felt that he needs to protect the people of the land or just because he felt kinship towards the dark elves although they abandoned and exiled him with no mercy or remorse. Yet all of that did not matter, he only knew that the fabled and beautiful cities of the Dark Elves were in danger along with the population in them and if Avariss will not fight than why should others. 

Reaching that decision he concentrated, gathering the magical energies around him, he felt stronger and all does energies were like a storm inside of him just waiting to be unleashed on the unsuspecting undead. As he thought of getting closer to the enemy the dragon descended even lower spewing black fire upon the legions of undead, incinerating them and making sure that they are dead forever, charred bones began filling the battlefield and soon Avariss joined himself, unleashing the huge amount of energies stored inside of him, conjuring several storms of fel lightning deep in the ranks of undead along with a storm above the liches which tormented his kin with their magic, everything which passed under those storms was incinerated, electrified and blown away. While those awesome energies were wreaking havoc on the battlefield Avariss began unleashing waves after waves of fel fireballs, burning hundreds if not thousands of skeletons as the balls of green flame smashed unto the battlefield creating waves of flames that engulfed everything which surrounded them. Slowly but surely he heard a chant beginning to rise from the battlefield below him, it began as a feeble whisper and grew stronger by the minute, he heard his name, it was being chanted, he felt like a god amongst those simple folk, he was almighty and he knew that he could utilize his powers to destroy anything which stood in his way.

The feeling of satisfaction was immense and happiness, something that Avariss did not feel for a long time could be easily seen on his face, he liked the honor which was bestowed on him, he was so full of himself, feeling almighty, powerful, and it was great. Yet something was wrong and with one big pull Avariss was pushed aside from this part of the dream. Looking around he found himself in what seemed to be like a grey space, nothing could be seen for miles and miles away, no ground was below him yet he walked freely like it was there. His only companion now was the dragon he rode on, it stood near him black as it was before, from this vantage point the beast looked even more amazing, and terrifying at the same time. Yet there was something else that caught his eye, several steps away was what seemed to be a huge mirror yet it was not made of glass, it was made out of some sort of unknown to Avariss material, it could not be shattered nor it had any boundaries to it, it was like a wall which reflected everything without any end to it, but what truly terrified and scared him was the reflection seen at the giant mirror.

Staring at him was neither a human nor an elf; it was a creature, a monster which was spewed of the vilest part of the great void, mighty twisting horns coming out of its head, dark charcoal like skin covered the creatures entire body, many cracks were spread across the body, dark green fire even burning from within them, leathery bat like wings sprouting out the creatures body two times larger than the monster itself. Sharp vicious talons replaced what used to be hands, large and sharp fangs grew inside the creatures mouth, its eyes ever burning in an eerie dark green fire, no nose could be found on the creature, instead to nostrils were placed in the center of its face, black fur covered its legs and instead of feet, hoofs grew out. The evil and corrupted creature looked directly at Avariss, staring at him when it slowly moved a hand, putting it in front of its body, suddenly flames bursted out of the palm of the hand engulfing the entire arm as the creature smiled viciously, insanity can be seen in its ever burning black and empty eyes.

Right by the creatures side a mighty dragon stood, the same corruption seen on it, a dark glow covering all of its body, spewing from under the mighty now charred plates which covered its body, black talons coming out from its hands and feet, dark green flame coming out from the dragon’s nostrils, eyes as black as night, and cracks like the ones seen on the diabolical creature in front of Avariss could be seen on the corrupted dragon to.

Looking away from the mighty dragon and back at the creature in front of him he heard a familiar voice as the creature opened his mouth and spoke, yet the voice was different, it was rouge and filled with bass, it seemed like its coming from millions of directions at the same time, he could feel the creature using magic and the magic which was used by it was something else, it was so powerful that Avariss could not even imagine the awesome power which was required for it. Grabbing his head in pain he could hear Voice speaking, smashing against his walls of resistance with a relentless assault against his mind. “*Am I scaring you Avariss!? Am I!?*” His voice boomed inside of Avariss’s head, tearing him apart, destroying any resistance he put in its way, “*Don’t you dare taking your eyes away from me Avariss! Look at me now!*” Avariss felt an unnatural urge to look at the mirror, and as hard as he tried he could not resist the command that he was given, his head moved without order and Avariss’s eyes were looked with the daemon spawn in front of him. “*Avariss you are an ignorant fool! You thought you could hold me inside of you without losing control!? Hahahahaha!!!*” The daemon maniacally laughed. “*I am you Avariss! This is you!! Embrace it, take me, unite with me and you can be all powerful! I AM YOU AVARISS!!*” Voice yelled at him, a circle of dark green fire engulfing him. “*I am you! And if you won’t accept it then you will be destroyed!!*” Those words shocked him, nothing could prepare him for such a sight, not even the warning that were given to magicians about the dark arts that warlocks dabbled in and the corruption that was spreading within their bodies every time they casted a spell. This was Avariss’s fate, it was inevitable, and he could feel the clutches of fate closing in on him, grasping him and binding him, “*No! I will not accept this fate!!*” Avariss yelled back yet his voice seemed like a quiet whisper in comparisons to Voice's daemonic manifestation's voice. “*Utter destruction is the only way to defy this!*” Voice angrily replied. “*Can you face the destruction of yourself by your hands!? Can you!? I know you cannot take your own life, this is your weakness Avariss, as strong as your dark magic is, and you cannot outrun your own fears and weaknesses. They will hunt you forever! And I will always be part of you as a result of this!! You are my tool, and I will use you gladly!!*” With that said Voice bursted into another maniacal laughter, the laughter getting ever stronger, forcing Avariss on his knees as he uttered words which he never spoke before, he prayed for the gods, he prayed for them to save him. “*The gods won’t answer your pleas warlock! They won’t! As you casted them aside they shall cast you! YOU!! YOU ARE FOREVER MY SLAVE!!!*” his laughter continued as Avariss was pulled out of his sleep, the dream quickly pushed aside, all he saw flying past his eyes quickly, yet one last picture was burned into his mind, he could see himself, not in the mirror, he could see himself from afar, yet all he saw was Voice!

Avariss screamed, awakening from what started as a dream but ended as a nightmare, someone was knocking at the door, and it saved Avariss from having to decide his fate. Frantically looking around for his cloths he spotted just behind his robes a large mirror, rage and anger splashed on his face as he smashed the mirror with his right hand, cruses flying out of his mouth like a raging river, small glass falling on the floor in a tingling and beautiful sound. Avariss’s rage and misery had no bounds, he did not even feel the glass which was stuck in his hand, and the pain was dull to him as he knew that no pain can be compared to the pain his fate is going to cause him. He knew it and he despised himself for it, he felt disgust and most of all misery, he knew that Voice was right, he was a coward, he could not take his own life from himself and thus he had to embrace his fate. His face grim he opened the door with a bloody hand, his thoughts elsewhere as he listened to the dwarf behind the door yapping something about a feast going on in the main hall.

Avariss followed, he felt helpless and defenseless, he felt an undeniable urge to throw up yet he continued holding it inside. The walk was short and soon he arrived at the main dining hall, it was filled with happy faces, half drunk while the other half were happy with themselves, so many apprentices yet only a handful few out of them could possibly know what Avariss felt, but none of them to the exact extent that this affected Avariss. Looking around he saw some of his team members seated in one of the far tables from him, yet he did not bother approaching them, instead he walked to a random empty table in the far end of them room, he did not pick up any food in the way yet he did pick up several filled bottles of dwarven ale and as he sat down at the table he began devouring the ale tankards one by one, letting the pain and despair to be swallowed by the warming comfort of strong alcohol, the grim and dark look never going away from his face, no matter how much he drank, yet one thought rose up and he played with it, what would happen if he’ll truly take his own life...




OOC: Sorry for the length of this monstrosity but I felt the need to make it epic and fatalistic.


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## revan4559

Andaleth: Sitting down to join the Dark Elf and High Elf you are swiftly joined but the Northman from earlier who picks up a small two foot dragon and places it on the table before asking you if your dragon has hatched. After answering their questions you eat some of the stew that you put in your bowl and can't seem to place down what kind of meat is in it, maybe you should ask one of the others if they know what exactly is in it. While you sit and walk with the others at your table a strange grey-purple dragon with semi-transparent wings comes zooming out of the corner of your eye and slams straight into the Northman's face knocking him off of his chair, much to the amusement of Bjor's little dragon who lets out a small low yet feminine laugh. The little black dragon then looks at you before finishing off another bite of boar meat and actually says something to you: "So what manner of warrior are you human? Are you a beserker like the Northman?" the little black dragon while waiting for your answer turns to look at Uthait.

Extraxi: After having started to eat your food you are joined by Uthair the High Elf, Andaleth the Human and Bjor the Northman. You feel slightly jealous as Bjor's dragon has hatched before yours and has brought it to the table with him for you to see. The High Elf then asks you what if you could tell him your name, after having answered him you notice that the human called Kell has entered with a dragon of his own and got straight to the High Lord about something instead of coming to join your table, you wonder what he is talking to him about as the noise of dwarves and apprentices is blocking your elven hearing. As you sit there talking to and listening to the others you notice from the corner of your vision something purple-grey zoom across your sight and slam into the Northman's face knocking him off of his chair. It is up to you how you react to whatever it was that attacked him.

Uthiat: You feel slightly jealous of Bjor as he already has a hatched dragon and wonder if you should go ask Modeus why Bjor's hatched so earlier, you also see the human Kell enter through some doorways with his own little dragon which appears to be a purple-grey colour with semi-transparent wings. After eating a few things off your plate you wonder if you should go and ask Modeus if he could explain about all the different dragons currently in the room, but before you have a chance to get out of your chair something flies past your field of vision and slams into Bjor knocking him back and off of his chair, looking down it appears to be the same dragon that came into the room with Kell. You then here a low but strangely feminine voice directing a question at you: "What manner of warrior are you pointy-ears?" looking around you can see Bjor's black dragon sat on the table looking at you while also eating some of the meat placed on a plate infront of it. If you decide to answer the question is up to you but you might want to tell Kell his dragon just attacked Bjor.

Avariss: As you sit down on your own and start to attempt to drink yourself to forget your dreams you are joined by two apprentices you do not know. One of them is a dark elf like yourself but has eyes that burn with fel flame and is just starting to sprout horns from his forehead, the second is a human who has charred skin starting at the tips of his fingers and goes all the way up to his elbows, his hands have become talons and has fel flames coming out in whisps from the cracks in his charred skin, one word comes into your mind as you look over them: Warlocks. Both of them then proceed to sit down at the table and offer to refill your mug full of dwarven ale. Then they introduce themselves, the Dark Elf is called Tyreal Morhiem and the Human is called Lucian Garvil. You decide that you introduce yourself to them, once you have Lucian starts to speak. "It is interesting to see another warlock in the ranks of the dragon riders, as you can tell we are widely un-trusted by others so we need to stick together, what say you Dark Elf Avariss, will you join us?" Though you try to answer all you can think about is that you will eventually become what you saw in your dream, and here infront of you are two warlocks already firmly down the path to damnation and corruption.

Kell: Lord Modeus looks at your dragon as a small smile appears on his face. "Congratulations on your newly hatched dragon, i take it you've already named it? Well anyway the reason it keeps attacking you is because it is a Shadow Dragon, they are ambush predators mainly therefor him attacking you is partially instict and basically doing what is natural to him. Eventually he will grow out of attacking almost everything but for now i would suggest keeping an eye on him and making sure your door is locked if you leave him in your room. Now may i suggest you go and save Bjor the Northman from your dragon along with giving him my congratulations for his dragon aswell?" Modeus motions over to the table where the group is sat, you turn around just intime to see that Typhon has left your side and has now just jumped through the air and slammed into Bjor knocking him backwards and off of his chair like he did to you earlier. You may aswell get some food along the way as you go to collect your dragon.

Bjor: From what the others have said their dragons have still yet to hatch meaning that of all the group so far yours is the first dragon to hatch, or so you believe until Kell walks in with a purple-grey dragon with semi-transparent wings. Instead of coming to join you and the others at the table he walks over to Modeus and starts talking to him, your own dragon is mainly eating the meat infront of her along with talking to Andelath and Uthait but before you can join in their convosation something small scaly and purple-grey slams straight into your face and knocks you back off of your chair. Wondering what in the name of the gods hit you, you can see that it was infact Kell's little dragon which is now sat on your chest its front and lead lowered, fangs bared and making some sort of hissing sound at you as it stares at you with its dark green eyes. What you do with the little dragon is your choice but you guess Kell wouldn't be happy if you did something then meant it got hurt.

Torak: OOC: Still requiring you to post, and until you do im unable to do an update for you. Check within the last 1-2 pages for your update.


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## Santaire

As Uthiat and Andaleth continued talking Bjor joined the three of them at the table. His dragon had already hatched and he showed them it proudly. As they talked Extraxi noticed that Kell had entered the hall with his own dragon and instead of joining them went straight to Modeus.

The general din prevented Extraxi from picking up the words despite his Elven hearing. The high Lord smiled as he looked at Kell's dragon and said a few more words to Kell. Extraxi turned away and began listening to the otherss talking, Bjor gave his dragon some meat. Extraxi snapped his head round when he heard a crash.

Bjor had toppled back off his chair. Kell's dragon was sitting on his chest, looking like it was about to pounce. Dropping the knife he had instinctively drawn Extraxi brought his hands over the little dragon and picked it up off Bjor, holding his hands tightly shut. He could feel the dragon writhing in his grip, trying to escape his hands.

Extraxi held on tight and, very slowly stood and began to walk towards Kell...


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## G0arr

*Uthait Alenaneldth*

Uthiat watched the small dragon that Bjor carried. A small twinge of envy hit him. The north man had already been able to experience life with the small thing. Uthiat glanced across the room to see Kell. The human had a small dragon as well. Was it something he did not do, was that why his dragon had not hatched?

The elf took a few bites from the food on his plate. There hadn't been any extra instructions with the egg. Maybe they were just older eggs, or matured faster. There was quite a lot that Uthiat didn't know about these dragons. The elf tore another chunk of boar from his plate. Maybe Modeus would have information that would help. Uthiat took another drink from his glass. What could a few questions harm?

As the elf moved to stand something speared past his vision. Bjor took the hit. It was a dragon, and apparently the little thing had strength. It managed to knock the north man from his seat. It appeared to be the dragon which accompanied Kell into the room. Maybe the other human needed to be warned. As Uthiat stood a voice entered his head. _"What manner of warrior are you pointy-ears?"_ The elf looked down to see Bjor's dragon looking at him. "Strange," he said looking at the little thing. _"Strange, what manner of warrior is that?"_ Uthiat looked at the little thing for a moment. "Uthiat," he said as a slightly puzzled look disappeared from his face, "I am an elvish mage." The little thing looked him up and down then returned to eating. "Oh yes," the elf said moving away, "quite a few questions."

Kell was gathering some food as he glanced toward the table again. "Hello, Kell wasn't it," the elf began as he approached the human, "It appears you might have noticed, but your dragon appears to be pouncing on Bjor. You may need to be careful I believe Bjor is a berserk. Very dangerous especially for your little one if he gets angry." Uthait then moved toward Modeus and waited until it appeared to be an appropriate time before barraging him with questions about the dragons in the room.


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## komanko

The warm liquid sliding down his throat, mug after mug, and just to annoy him, he barely felt the effects of the liquid, maybe due to his despair and sorrow or maybe just because he was a good drinker, he could not tell, the thoughts of the daemon that lurked inside his soul drove him mad, he knew that even if he will pass out from alcohol he will awaken tomorrow just to find out that nothing had changed.

As another mug of liquid slipped down his throat he heard footsteps, looking up he saw to figures approaching his lonely table, a human and a dark elf yet both of them were clearly warlocks as they already looked like half daemon breed, obviously corrupted and twisted, probably lost their sense of right and wrong a long time ago. As they both approached Avariss noted their features, the dark elf’s eyes were engulfed in an ever burning green flame, and small horns were already beginning to sprout out of his forehead, this made him look more daemonic then his human friend which had charred black skin from his finger tips to his elbows, from the cracks in his skin green fel flames sprouted out from time to time, and his hands, twisted into a nightmarish tool of death, they became talons. 

Both of them twisted and corrupted and it clearly did not bother them, as Avariss looked at them he couldn’t remove the picture of Voice from his head, the picture of what he was destined to become. The two friends approached him and offered to refill his mug, Avariss simply nodded and handed them the mug. It was quickly refilled with dwarven ale, and as soon as it was refilled it was again empty. The human raised an eyebrow when he saw Avariss drinking the ale that quickly, yet he did not say anything. 

After a few seconds of just staring at Avariss the dark elf spoke, “*My name is Tyreal Morhiem and this is Lucian Garvil*” Standing up Avariss bowed weirdly due to the amount of alcohol he drank and said “*My name is… Avariss Phyraere, how can I be of service to you two warlocks?*” As he finished introducing himself he pointed at the seats in front of him and they both sat down along with Avariss. Then the human spoke, “*it is interesting to see another warlock in the ranks of the dragon riders, as you can tell we are widely un-trusted by others so we need to stick together, what say you Dark Elf Avariss, will you join us?*” Avariss raised his head again, looking at the ever burning eyes of the dark elf and then looking at the human, stick together; it was a foolish idea, and the reason to the distrust of people towards them. Yet what he said was true, he did not see many warlocks around here, but his answer remained the same. “*No… I will not join you, I don’t mind being your comrade or friend but I won’t isolate myself from the people around me. Such behavior… Is the main reason that people distrust warlocks, though some of them should not be trusted…*” He said while refilling his mug.

Avariss continued staring at them as they thought of an answer to give him, their features fascinated him yet they were clearly corrupt and daemonic, both of them probably knew nothing of the dark lands thus they did not fear looking like those lands. Avariss feared that he might change not only physically but also mentally, that he also may stop fearing the dark lands, becoming ignorant and foolish like this pair. As he continued watching them he felt an urge to cover himself, and hide his own features from the surroundings. At least for now, as long as he doesn’t sprout any horse it will be less visible that he is a warlock. The price that one pays for pursuit for knowledge is indeed a grave one, but Avariss will simply have to deal with it… He had no other choice.


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## Midge913

The talk was jovial enough, if not slightly tense. The people seated at the table knew very little of each other and you could tell that there was a certain uncomfortableness about the group. Andaleth sat eating his stew and listening to the others speak. He looked at Bjor's dragon and felt an stab of jealousy. He had been here longer than the Northman and still his dragon had not hatched. Andaleth wondered if he had done something, or was doing something wrong in regards to the care of his egg. 

As he ate it struck him that he had never tasted stew like this before, it was absolutely delicious. He looked up to ask his companions if they knew what was in it, and was instead saw a streak of purple and grey fly by him and collide bodily with Bjor, knocking the large Northman over backwards in his chair with a load roar. Chuckling as he saw that it was a small dragon that had acosted Bjor in such a manner Andaleth sat back down to the table. As he did he heard an unmistakebly feminie laugh to his left, and turnig toward the sound he was greeted by a pair of feral eyes. Bjor's dragon was looking him in the face, almost scrutinizing him bewteen glances down at Bjor and the other dragon. Andaleth was most suprised when it asked aloud,"So what manner of warrior are you human? Are you a beserker like the Northman?"

"No, I am not a Berzerker like Bjor," Andaleth began. Come to think of it, he wasn quite sure how to answer the dragons question. From a very young age Andaleth had always had certain inate abilities. He could conjure shades and Impish creatures that as a child had kept him company, and in his teenage life had helped him many times in thefts. It wasn't until his late teen years that he had learned that his abilities were in fact Fel magic. The thought had appaled Andaleth. He had heard of what corrupt creatures Warlocks were, that the power that they used began to change them. This eventuality frightened him so much that he had stopped using his powers unless absolutley necessary. This also helped him avoid the stigma that most Warlock's faced. He simply feared that he would become something so unlike himself through the use of this power. It was something that he hoped Lord Modeus would help him with. He felt the power there, always, demanding to be used, but he resisted for the sake of himself. Perhaps the Dragon Lord knew a way to fight its corrupting nature. 

In answer to the Dragon's question he mearly said,"Before I became an apprentice of Lord Modeus I was an accomplished thief and burglar. I have a unique ability to get into places that I shouldn't and avoid those that would be unhappy to find me there. I deal in shadows and subterfuge. At this point no doubt, standing face to face in a fair fight with one such as Bjor I would stand little chance, but I do have skills that are valuable, just not always on the field of battle. It has always been my opinion that a knife in the dark is just as effective as a blow by a battle axe in combat. More honorable... no, but just as effective. We stick with the skills we are given I suppose."


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor's eyes narrowed as he took in the small purple dragon in front of him, was it going to....? Before he could finish his own thought the dragon did exactly what he thought it was going to do and slammed right into him with enough force to actually knock him off his seat and onto the ground. Despite himself he laughed, he stared at the little dragon as it wiggled on his chest ready to strike out at him again, an Elf came and picked it up off of his chest allowing Bjor to get back up and into his seat so he could continue eating and drinking. 

He looked over at table of dwarves and said while holding his glass up, *"Drinking contest!"*


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## Angel of Blood

Modeus looked at the dragon held in Kells grip and allowed himself a small smile. Kell then let the struggling dragon go to roam the halls as he continued to talk with the High Lord who said "Congratulations on your newly hatched dragon, i take it you've already named it? Well anyway the reason it keeps attacking you is because it is a Shadow Dragon, they are ambush predators mainly therefor him attacking you is partially instict and basically doing what is natural to him. Eventually he will grow out of attacking almost everything but for now i would suggest keeping an eye on him and making sure your door is locked if you leave him in your room."

Kell sighed "So i must put up with these insufferable attacks for now then? Very well, if practice is what he wants, i will provide him with ample opportunity" He grinned as he said this, already thinking of setting the dragon on the damned warlock. "And yes i have named him. Typhon, a name from the myths and legends of the old world, it seemed appropriate" 

Modeus nodded and then said "Now may i suggest you go and save Bjor the Northman from your dragon along with giving him my congratulations for his dragon aswell?" Kell spun around just in time to see Bjor knocked flying from his chair as Typhon pounced on him. He bit back a grin, he had no greivance with the north man, but it was amusing all the same. He turned back to Modeus and inclined his head at the High Lord "By your leave" and then went to collect his wayward drake, only to see another had already come to Bjors assitance.

The elven ranger who had been thrown into the arena earlier now approached Kell, with the struggling Typhon held in a careful grip. Kell walked the rest of the way to meet him, "I see you've met Typhon aswell then?" He said to the elf, then looked at the dragon "Making friends and enemies already are we little one?" He took Typhon from the elfs hands. "Your intervention is appriciated elf. Though i'm not sure we have been introduced. I am Kell Alenko, from the former city of Manar, now from nowhere in particular" He said with a rueful grin. "And you are?"


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## revan4559

Andaleth: The little black dragon tilts her head to the side as she listens to you before nodding and looking back at Bjor as he shouts for a drinking contest. "I feel that by the time im older i shall be the smarter one in my partnership with the Northman." The little black dragon then lets out a sigh before going back to eating some of the boar meat placed on the table. As you look around the hall you can see that two people have approached the dark elf warlock that was in the arena earlier and notice that both of them are warlocks further down the line of corruption than you and the dark elf. Staring at them you get reminded of the price that you will eventually pay for using such dark arts for the greater good, you sit there looking over the two and think on if you have made the right choice in following the path of a warlock and what you may eventually look like by the time the fel magic corruption has fully changed your appearance.

Extraxi: The human called Kell comes up to you and thanks you for stopping his dragon, which appears to be called Typhon, from attacking the northman any more than it already had. Kell then introduces himself fully by giving you his full name and telling you where he is from before asking you who you are. You decide to tell Kell your name and where you are from as you hand over the dragon back to Kell. Upon Leaving your grip and entering Kell's it simply jumps out of Kell's hands and speeds off towards a pile of beef that has been left on the floor for the smaller dragons to eat from. After introducing yourself you decide to ask Kell if he wants to come and join you and the others at the table as you hear the Northman Bjor shout out for a drinking contest, it is your choice if you take him up on that challenge. But before you can accept his challenge you see a group of five other northmen come towards Bjor and one of them doesn't look at all friendly and may kick up trouble when the dwarven ale takes hold. Though if you go and join the group which you will train along side is up to you.

Uthiat: As Kell went off to get his apparently very troublesum dragon Modeus shifts his attention from King Grugnar to you and looks up and down you. "Can i help you at all Uthait? You appear to have a puzzled look on your face and need some answers by the look of it." Modeus then picked up a goblet of elvish wine and drank some of it while waiting for you to answer him and ask him the questions that you wanted answering. As you talk to Modeus you can see the large black form of his dragon move behind him as its long neck shifts so its massive head moves down to become level with yours as it stares at you with its dark green strangely feline like eyes, the stare of this massive create makes you feel very uncomfortable as you try to talk to Modeus.

Avariss: The human warlock infront of you seems to almost burst with barely contained rage before the dark elf places a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. They both then move a chair so they can join you at your table before sitting down and filling their mugs aswell. "Very well Avariss if that is your choice. I think it would be wise if we become friends for now. So why don't you tell us about yourself? I don't believe ive seen you around our homeland, do you come from one of the far off corners or do you travel alot? Im also interested in how you chose the path of a warlock" says Tyreal Morhiem the dark elf warlock as he starts to pick at a chicken leg that is on his plate. The human Lucian just seems to sit there in silence and appears to still be very annoyed.

Kell: After introducing himself and handing Typhon back to you, you notice that Typhon's purple-grey head fill your vision before head butting you in the nose and leaping out of your arms. Mumbling a curse you watch Typhon run off towards a plate of beef which has been placed on the floor surronded by slightly larger dragons than him and proceeds to knock all of them to the ground and claiming the entire plate of beef as his own, though he may keep attacking you and others and despite his smaller size than other dragons you feel somewhat proud of Typhon as he takes on things much larger than himself. Looking back to the Elf you hear him ask you to join him and the others you fought with earlier, as you start to collect some food(your pick) you hear Bjor call out for a drinking contest, it is your choice if you want to take him up on that challenge. But before you can accept his challenge you see a group of five other northmen come towards Bjor and one of them doesn't look at all friendly and may kick up trouble when the dwarven ale takes hold. Though if you go and join the group which you will train along side is up to you.

Bjor: As you call out for a drinking contest and sit back on your chair five other apprentices approach you and each one of them is a Northman, you notice that three of them are from the thunderhammer clan which has a very good relationship with your own you can easily tell this by the lightning symbols on their necklaces, the fourth northman you are unsure which clan he comes from but he is slightly smaller than the rest of you northmen but is quite alot more muscular save for the fifth one. The fifth northman brings up nothing but hatred and spite within you as you see he is from the Bloodskull clan, a ruthless clan which preys upon other clans and steals their food, women and kills their men. You remember tails that the Bloodskulls come from a place further north than any other northman dares to go and that no-one has explored further north than the borders of their territory. As they approach they appear to be holding drinking mugs and large full barrels of dwarven ale. The Bloodskull sits down opposite you and slams his mug down before glaring at you with dark brown eyes. "I accept your challenge whelpling." With that the smaller northman sits next to you while the three thunderhammers sit around and fill the mugs. You decide that it may be an idea to ask each of them their names as you can see they are the only northmen apprentices save for yourself.(ill tell you their names in the next update.)


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat waited quietly as Modeus spoke to the dwarfish king. Finally the dark elf looked up at the waiting high elf. _"Can i help you at all Uthait? You appear to have a puzzled look on your face and need some answers by the look of it." _
“I have a few questions about the different things within this room yes.” He turned and pulled the book from his satchel. “I have noticed that several of the others that were ‘introduced’ to me earlier have their dragons hatched. Have these been born early, or do each species have different growth rates?” He allowed a few moments for an answer. “What kinds of dragons are they, if I may ask.”

“Ah,” he said scribbling in his book, “In my room, and I can only guess that the others have the same, there were several settings at a table. What was the purpose? Did I displace anyone else?” He glanced up. Behind Modeus the black dragon shifted and moved slowly approaching the high elf.

“How many different riders have you gathered? I have never heard of you gathering others.” The black dragon stretched its neck and slowly moved its head closer.

“Have you written many tomes on the subject of dragons,” Uthiat asked looking up. The black dragon’s head was close to his own. The thing was staring at him with dark green eyes. As he tried to move to one side the head followed. He was visibly uneasy as he tried to continue. “I believe that there was one of the smaller ones,” he tried to move to one side of the dragon again, “Bjor’s little one. It seemed to ‘speak’ to me. Do they speak in one’s head often?” 

The black dragon continued to follow Uthiat’s moves. It was easy to see that he was uncomfortable, and slowly becoming frustrated with the dragon. Finally he looked the creature in the eyes. “Excuse me,” he said when there was a moment of silence, “I don’t believe we have been introduced. My name is Uthiat, and if you would not mind I find it rather difficult to speak to your master when you do that…” Uthiat pointed at the dragon’s head “following… me… with your head… thing. Could I ask you to please stop?” He suddenly felt that he might regret the request. If one of the smaller ones could speak in a person’s head it might be hard to ignore one if they were angered.


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## Santaire

Extraxi moved forward, still with his hands around the writhing dragon, and Kell walked the rest of the way to meet him, "I see you've met Typhon as well then?" Kell said to Extraxi, then looked at the dragon "Making friends and enemies already are we little one?" He took Typhon from Extraxi's grip. "Your intervention is appreciated elf. Though i'm not sure we have been introduced. I am Kell Alenko, from the former city of Manar, now from nowhere in particular," Kell said with a rueful grin. "And you are?"

"I am Extraxi Veho, a Dark Elf ranger," Extraxi replied "I was raised in a royal household but left it to become a hunter. You will need to tame your dragon, make sure it knows not to cross you but also care for it so that it will care for you," Extraxi added, glancing at the twisting writhing dragon in Kell's hands. "I once had a snow wolf for a pet and it took a long time to tame it but once I had it followed me every where and even saved my life once." He added in answer to the unspoken question about how he knew this.

(Space for reply)

"Do you wish to join us at our table?" he asked, jesturing towards the table where Bjor, Uthiat and Andaleth sat.

(Space for reply)

Extraxi nodded and began to walk back to the table. Bjor called out a drinking challenge, but before he could accept it a group of Norsemen walked over and accepted the challenge. One of them seemed to ooze wrath and contained anger. He would probably go beserk when the dwarven ale took hold.

Extraxi moved forward. If a fight did start he would get in on Bjor's side.


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## komanko

Lucian, the human warlock, smashed his fist against the table, he was clearly mad now and Avariss was not even sure why, he clearly said something which antagonized him yet he couldn’t think of what. It was probably a result of him not being in the company of people for a long time… Seeing that his friend is nearly bursting in anger Tyreal, the dark elf warlock, put a hand on his shoulder and restrained him, he was clearly the “leader” between those two as Lucian quickly backed off. Each of them pulled a chair from the table and sat down, and after that they filled their mugs with ale, the same one that Avariss drank from. He did not appreciate that, they could have gotten themselves their own ale and he was not in the mood for sharing right now. 

"*Very well Avariss if that is your choice. I think it would be wise if we become friends for now. So why don't you tell us about yourself? I don't believe ive seen you around our homeland, do you come from one of the far off corners or do you travel alot? Im also interested in how you chose the path of a warlock*" Said Tyreal while picking at a chicken leg which he brought with him, at the same time Avariss noticed Lucian still staring at him in anger, he was clearly only restrained for a time. Seeing that there is no way for him to get out of conversation now in a polite way Avariss sighed and looked at the dark elf who he felt more kinship to. He did not pay attention to the human as he believed that he did not know much about the subject that they were going to talk about.

“*Well… There are several reasons that you did not see me at our homeland, none of them is good for me, yet the main reason is the fact that I am technically banished. As treachery is not unknown to you I’d guess and not to anyone who lived in the capital. To shorten the story I helped my brother get to the head of our house and when he got there he decided I might be a threat to his rule although I had no intention at all to be a part of that political charade. So he banished, blamed the deaths of the ones he killed on me. Yet there is another reason that you did not see me around, the reason is that after I was banished, instead of settling somewhere nearby or in another city I settled right by the border of the Dark Lands, there I lived for many, many, years.*” Avariss sighed as he spoke about the old days back in the capital, it brought back good and bad memories back.

Blinking ones he then refocused on Tyreal and continued, “*This path was, you can say, forced on me, as after I was banished I was clueless of what should I do with myself, after all I lived in a high ranking house for most of my life and I really did not know how it was to live in the wilds outside. Thus I began thirsting for knowledge, and decided to dedicate the time I have to look for it and understand as much as possible. I started by conducting alchemical experiments which sadly did not have any fantastical results as I did not study much about alchemy. After that came the darker path of magic, and I began dabbling in warlock magic, it came off natural and it helped me a lot during the life near the dark lands, as you know life there is scarce at best. At any rate, I really don’t know how I survived that long out there, at first it was hard but after a few years it seemed like the environment grew accustomed to me and no beast trespassed my ground. But enough about me, why won’t you both tell me about you? I could use some new stories and information to listen to; this will help me take my mind away from certain… Things*.” Avariss looked at both the warlocks, he awaited their answer while he did not answer all of their questions.


----------



## Midge913

Andaleth listened as Bjor called for a drinking contest and shook his head. He had never been one to indulge in to much to drink, but he did find that drunks were easy marks. "Old habits die hard," he thought to himself. 

Bjor's dragon turned to him with a resigned sigh and said, "I feel that by the time I'm older I shall be the smarter one in my partnership with the Northman." Andaleth thought that she was probably right. He liked Bjor, and he would look no further than the Northman if a fight started, but he didn't think that cunning was the Northman's strong suit next to what he had heard about dragon intelligence. 

Looking around the room he saw that Avriss, he believed he remembered the Dark Elf Warlock's name to be, had been approached by two individuals that were unmistakeably Warlocks. Their corruption evident in their appearance. "So this is the price of the skills I was born with," he mused to himself. Horns, cracked skin, glowing eyes.... Andaleth's heart sank. He had hoped that Lord Modeus would have some way, some knowledge, some lost arcane skill that would have helped Andaleth keep the corruption of his flesh in check. If these two apprentices had not benefited from such arts, then they were not to be had. Andaleth, even using his gifts with the best of intentions, would someday face the same mutation of form that these two had. The best that he could hope for was to save his soul and spirit from the corruption that his body would soon face. He knew that there was no other choice that he could have made, he didn't regret any of the choices he had made in his life. He would follow the path that he had chosen without pause. He just hoped that through strength of will he would be able to continue to follow the path of right. 

His musings were interrupted by a large group of Northmen that had approached to answer Bjor's challenge. He saw that one of them was definitely not pleased to be in Bjor's presence. His demeanor could mean trouble. Andaleth decided that he would side with his new companions in the event of trouble...


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## Angel of Blood

"I am Extraxi Veho, a Dark Elf ranger, I was raised in a royal household but left it to become a hunter." The elf replied. 'Royalty?' Kell thought to himself 'how very interesting'. The elf had continued on as he thought this "make sure it knows not to cross you but also care for it so that it will care for you, I once had a snow wolf for a pet and it took a long time to tame it but once I had it followed me every where and even saved my life once."

Right on cue, Typhon leapt forwards out and collided headfirst with Kells nose. A shooting white pain wen through Kells face and his eyes instantly began to water. "Fracking dragon" Kell mumbled, rubbing his nose and blinking clear his eyes. "Yes well, it is apparent i have drawn the short end of the lottery of sorts presently. Modeus informs me that Typhon is an ambush predator and will continue to exhibit such behaviour for quite some time. Thanks for the advice, but i hope you can appreicate a dragon is quite different to a wolf."

Extraxi then inidcated the table where some of the others were sat and asked Kell ""Do you wish to join us at our table?"

Kell nodded and began to make his way over to the table with the elf when Bjor stood up and announced a drinking contest. "A northman calling for a drinking contest, how very original" Kell sardonically said to Extaxi. Before they could say anymore another group of northmen approached Bjor in answer to his challenge. One of them clearly did not look happy with Bjor.

Kell hadn't known Bjor for long, but he had fought well and honorably in the arean and would be spening a considerable amount of time in the future with the man. "This is either going to turn very ugly or very merry" He turned to Extraxi "Shall we?" But the elf had already began to move forwards. "I guess thats a yes then"

He took a seat next to Bjor and looked across to the men opposite, then looked back to Bjor "Friends of yours?"


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor smiled as he saw the group of five northman apprentices approach where he was sitting. He leaned down towards Minerva as he stood up and shook their hands as was custom in his culture, each warrior grabbing the others' fore-arm, and told her,* "You will learn the ways of my people by watching me. Watch now." *As he shook the hands of the Thunderhammers he smiled and laughed with each one, one of them he knew of while the two others he did not, but it was the other two who caught his attention. One was shorter then the rest of them but certainly heavier with muscle, he seemed hesitant to greet Bjor so the berserker took it into his own hands to say hello, *"Greetings friend. From where do you hail? I am Bjor, head berserker of the Hellwolf clan, and this is my dragon Minerva."* he saw two of the Thunderhammers nod in respect to his dragon's name.

He saw the Bloodskull somewhat behind the others and snarled at him, the man was a rappist, not a true killer or warrior, his clan was a disgrace to their people. But as was custom none could be turned away from a drinking contest, so the Bloodskull sat across from him while the newcomer he had introduced himself to sat next to Bjor. The berserker could tell that Minerva picked up on the tenseness between her master and the Bloodskull because of how she sat up straight and kept an eye on him as he took his seat across from Bjor. 

The Thunderhammers began filling mugs of beer and setting them down in front of Bjor and the Bloodskull as the two of them stared each other down. Once finished Bjor spoke up so that not only the northmen but also his companions at the table could hear him, *"I challenge you to two simple contests. The first; we will each chug seven of these mugs, the last one to finish has yet to grow into manhood, and the second; we will count who finishes the most mugs during the course of this early dinner....aye?"* he knew the Bloodskull would take the bait so he looked to his companions with mischief in his eyes and said, *"Maybe even we could form drinking teams to expand the games if our friends are man enough?" * Kell approached him and took a seat next to him, Bjor pushed a mug in front of him,* "Three of them yes, one of them is on his way and the last deserves an axe to his neck."* he nodded at the mug filled with frighteningly strong ale and smiled at the warrior,* "I hope you enjoy your drink Kell, you're going to have to if we are going to be training together." *he chuckled, his voice thick with his northern accent.


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## revan4559

Andaleth: After a few more moments you are rejoined by Extraxi the Dark Elf Ranger and Kell the Warrior whose dragon had attacked Bjor earlier. As Kell sits down next to Bjor you decide to ask him about his dragon, if it has a name, how exactly it hatched and why it keeps attacking people in the great hall. Looking around you notice that Uthait is still talking to Modeus, and the two warlocks are still with Avariss, sighing at the warlocks again you look back to the drinking contest that has started to take place when you feel something scratching your leg with painfully sharp claws. Quickly pulling your leg away and looking under the table you can see that Kell's dragon has returned to the table and how has blood around its claws from where it has cut you with them as it has been scratching you. Maybe you should point out to Kell that his dragon just injured you and that he should control it. Or do you take this time to pick the dragon up yourself and study it to try and guess which kind of dragon it is. What ever you decide the little purple-grey dragon remains sat under the table as it stares at you with its almost feline like glowing green eyes.

Extraxi: Both you and Kell walk over to the table where Bjor and Andaleth are still sat as Bjor has already started his drinking contest with the other Northmen. Looking over them you wonder if they are from different tribes like elves come from different houses, maybe you should ask Bjor later on when he is sober after this drinking contest or maybe ask him while he is drinking so you do not have to wait for an answer. Looking around the table you can see that Kell has decided to sit next to Bjor just incase it kicks off and the Northmen start to fight each other, but you wonder what a normal man from the southen kingdoms can do against their northen cousins as each one of the Northmen is taller and bigger build that Kell. As an elf you may be able to fight them thanks to all elves being flexible, faster and having strength that is hidden by their tall slender frames. While watching Bjor and the other northman continue their drinking contest you decide to talk to Andelath and Kell to try and get to know them abit better as you will be spending most of your apprenticeship with them, you mainly decide to ask about what the human lands of the south are like as you only have knowledge of the your homeland and abit about the land from where the Northmen come from.

Uthiat: Modeus lets out a laugh as you talk to his dragon and Modeus's own dragon seems to give a strange throating deep rumbling laugh aswell. "You mis-understand the relationship between Rider and Dragon Uthait, I am not his master and he is not my servant. We are partners, friends, allies, comrades. Neither of us rules the other so if one of us disagree's with the other about something then the other can't influence them in anyway. As for your quests, ill start with the first and work my way though them: Bjor's dragon is a black dragon like Zar'tharon here." Modeus motions back to his dragon. "As for him following you with his head, he is weighing up whether or not you are a potential threat to me or any of the other dragons in the room. The multiplate chairs and plates inside of your room, like the others is just incase you decide to have any guests within your room. Within the last one hundred and fifty years i have written a total of 1827 books on dragons, their species, habits, prey, life cycles and everything that i know about dragons, that also includes demi and psuedo dragons which you will learn about later on. And finally dragons prefer to usually 'speak' to a persons mind as then their 'voice' is in the native language of who they are talking to. They can talk normally like us by the need to learn it as a language first. Now have you got any other quests?" Modeus leans back in his chest and drinks from his wine goblet before refilling. If you have any more questions then you should tell them to Modes before returning to your table and maybe telling the others what you have learnt about dragons so far. Along with asking Andaleth what he knows as he has been here several days before any of you.

Avariss: Both Lucian and Tyreal listen to you and after hearing your tale Lucian seems to lighten up and pours you another drink. "That is a sad tale my friend" say Tyreal "But our race is like that when it comes to seeing who will become head of the house. Did you know many on the council think thats why the hier to the dark elf throne has vanished? so that he isnt betrayed by his father or siblings. Anyway enough about the politics of home, as to your quests how both me and lucian came to walk the path of a warlock its because we were both part of the Great Mage College and were top class students with great potential apparently but then we let power get to our heads and we started to dabble in Fel Magic which saw us kicked out of the college. As we came from the same class we spend the next several years traveling around looking for someone to help us learn more in the Fel Arts." Tyrel then drinks from his ale mug before continuing. "Eventually we learnt more powerful spells but as with all who use this power, we started to change. Eventually though we were found by The Dragon Lord and brought here to become his riders and in return we gain more knowledge of Fel Magic and there are rumors that the Dragon Lord knows some ways or is searching for ways to slow and even stop the corruption." With that it perks your interest about Modeus as if he can help you find a cure for the corruption of Fel Magic then you will be saved from your fate as a shunned and hated monster.

Kell: Sitting down next to Bjor you look over your northen 'cousins' to try and determine if they are friendly or not, all but the one with a red skull tattoo paintedon his bare shoulders look pretty friendly but you guess that like you men of the south when you get a few drinks down your neck you can even become very jolly and have a good time with any and everyone or turn into brawlers wanting to fight anyone who even looks at you in the wrong way. If you decide to join in the drinking contest with the Northmen is up to you, but you also remember that the Northmen are even hardier than normal men of the south and can most likely drink more than you can handle without passing out. As you sit there talking with the others you remember something that you don't really understand, of all the apprentices and others within this keep you all have sur/family names, all excepy Modeus who is simply known as High Lord Modeus, Dragon Lord Modeus, or simply just Modeus. You know that he is a Dark Elf from his appearance but you don't know what kind of family he comes from, maybe you could ask one of the two Dark Elves if they know anything about Modeus as for the next 10 years of your apprenticeship and likely beyond that he will be your 'master' and teacher.

Bjor: As each one of them shakes your hand you ask the slightly shorter Northmen where he hails from. "Hail Bjor Hellwolf, I am Krombrak Frost-Axe from the Frost-Axe clan." Krombrak then points at the blue tattoo'ed axe on his left shoulder. "These are my companions Hrothgar, Njal and Bearwulf of the Thunderhammer clan, and Bjork Grimmskull of the Grimskull Clan." Each one of the Northmen nod to you in turn as their names are said other than Bjork who remains seated with his hand on his mug ready before speaking. "Quit yapping and more drinking Hellwolf or are you trying to cheat by boring me to death with all your talk? As for your challenges i accept but that Dark Elf over there" Bjork jerks his thumb in Avariss's direction "Has already drank more than both of us so far. Now lets get started." You grip the handle of your ale mug and look at it and see that it and the others has been fulled to the brim with the amber dwarven ale. Krombrak then steps forward and speaks. "On the count of three, drink. One....Two....Err.....Twelve....Nine....Three, DRINK!" It is clear to you that Krombrak may not be all that smart when it comes to counting which makes you smile but now is time to drink while you listen to the others talk.


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat listened as Modeus spoke. "Now have you got any other quests?" The dark elf finished as he leaned back and drank. "No I can think of none," the high elf said, "I would have a keen interest in seeing some of the books. Do you have a library perhaps?" 

When Uthiat returned to the table he saw the others. He took a seat. "Well then," he said looking at the others as the drinking contest was in full swing. He turned toward the others. "The Lord appears to have quite a bit of knowledge. I personally can't wait to learn of some of it myself. Though there are some moments that I think I can do without, such as that little one 'speaking' in my head." Uthiat took a small sip from his own ale.

Across the table one of the others glanced down. The high elf glanced under the table to see another small dragon. He glanced back up to Andaleth. “And who’s little one is that,” Uthiat asked. As he waited for the reply and Andaleth’s reaction to the dragon the high elf took a sip of his ale, and watched the drinking contest for a moment.

“So,” Uthiat said looking at Andaleth, “You have been here longer than we have my friend. What have you learned of this place and our tiny companions?”


----------



## Midge913

As he sat watching the Northmen begin their contest, Andaleth was joined at the table by Kell and Etraxi. Kell had his dragon securely in hand and the beast seemed eager to be released. Andaleth was intrigued by the small creature. Purple grey in color with semi-transparent wings, it had a picturesque beauty to it. 

"Kell woud you mind telling me a bit about your dragon? What type is it, how did it hatch, what do you know about it?" Andaleth's series of questions just poured out. He was beginning to become very anxious about his own dragon. There had to be a reason that it had not yet hatched and perhaps something Kell had seen in the hatching of his own dragon would provide some answers. "Does your dragon have a name?" 

As he awaited Kell's response Andaleth continued to observe his surroundings. He saw that Avariss was still sitting with that group of warlocks. Again his heart fell at the sight of those poor creatures. He knew that it was be choice that they used the Fel arts, but he could not help but feel sorry for the mutation they suffered. Every time that he looked upon them he was painfully reminded of the future that would be his. Looking at Kell's dragon he wondered if the corruption of his magic would effect his own. That was not a thought that he had considered before. Could he bring that fate to a young dragon? What right did he have to bring such corruption to a beast that was pure and perfect? Only time would provide the answers to these questions he was sure. 

He also saw Uthiat finish his conversation with Modeus and begin his way back to the table where he and the other apprentices sat. He wondered what the High Elf had been speaking to the Dragon Lord about, but got no further in this line of speculation. A sudden piercing pain ran up his leg, so startling that he jolted upright in his chair. Pulling up the leg of his pants, Andelth found a long but shallow cut along his right shin, and peering under the table he came eye to eye with Kell's dragon. His blood was still on its claws. Andaleth decided that he didn't want to be acosted again by the creature so he reached under the table and withdrew the tiny drake from its hiding place, set it on the table in front of him, and offered it a bit of meat from the stew he had been eating. The dragon sniffed at it for a moment, before tearing into it with tiny sharp teeth. 

As he studied the dragon before him Uthiat finally had manage to make his way across the hall and took a seat next to him. "Well then," he said looking at the others as the drinking contest was in full swing. He turned toward the others. "The Lord appears to have quite a bit of knowledge. I personally can't wait to learn of some of it myself. Though there are some moments that I think I can do without, such as that little one 'speaking' in my head." Uthiat took a small sip from his own ale.

"Indeed he does," Andaleth replied. "I have had a few lessons with him myself and his breadth of knowledge is quite remarkable." Unfortunately Andaleth thought, he doesn't seem to possess the knowledge that Andaleth most ardently desired. 

At this point Uthiat took notice of Kell's dragon on the table and asked,"And who’s little one is that?” 

"I believe this little rascal belongs to Kell," Andaleth replied. "He is quite the fierce hunter it appears," He continued gesturing to his leg. "Apparently he found my leg to be good sport," Andeleth finished with a chuckle. 

“So,” Uthiat said looking at Andaleth, “You have been here longer than we have my friend. What have you learned of this place and our tiny companions?”

"Of this place I know a bit. The castle itself is huge. I have had quite the time learning the layout and I have been in only a quarter of the keep. Training is most difficult, especially the arcane," he added empathetically. Uthiat had no idea what he was in for in that department."Modeus is a firm but knowledgeable teacher. His experience in magic and combat is only shadowed by his knowledge of the Dragons." Taking a sip of his own mug Andaleth continued on,"I have learned precious little about dragons yet in all honesty. Modeus and I were in the middle of my first lesson about dragons and the mechanics of their flight when you all began to arrive, and since my egg has yet to hatch, I haven't even had the opportunity to study and work with my own drake." 

Andaleth found speaking to Uthiat quite pleasant. It had been many a year since he just sat down and had a friendly conversation over a mug of ale. In his previous profession these sorts of meetings either indeed in blood shed or some form of contract. It was relaxing to sit and converse with someone about normal everday things. 

"I believe that, from the few lessons I have had, we are all in for quite the experience. I believe that we may learn more than we bargained for."


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## komanko

Avariss spoke for quite a while, while speaking he looked at the two characters in front of him, they were quietly listening with excitement and amusement on their face, it was an amusing story after all. Towards the end of Avariss’s tale he saw Lucian’s angry face lightning up a bit while pouring another drink and then pushing it towards Avariss. It was nearly at the end of the story that Lucian completely lightened up and seemed to forgive Avariss’s unintentional insult from earlier. It was a good thing as the last thing Avariss wanted now was more enemies…

When he finally finished his story the trio remained silent for brief moments, yet the world around them did not stop because shouting and laughing could be heard all across the hall, most of it about passing the jug of ale. After another brief moment the dark elf Tyreal sighed and said that it was indeed a sad tale, it looked like he really meant it and Avariss appreciated that. After another brief moment the trio returned to themselves and the dark elf spoke again. He told Avariss that there is a rumor that the king’s son and heir to the throne vanished just because he feared that he would be betrayed by his father and siblings. It made sense as Avariss experienced the same thing and it was not even a little fun… But before Avariss could say anything about that Tyreal quickly changed the subject and diverting them away from politics and mind control games, leading them back to speak about the dark arts. 

The dark elf took a sip from his ale as did Lucian and Avariss, it apparently was a time for stories and history for the three of them because the dark elf decided to answer Avariss’s questions and began speaking again while Lucian for some reason kept quiet, he did not seem to be a talkative type… Tyreal told Avariss about their life before they became warlocks, about how they both were part of the great mage college, a place with great name and reputation, he told Avariss how they were both the top students of the class, and it was believe… Seeing the grade of corruption which they both had confirmed Tyreal’s story. They both fell from grace because of the simplest of reasons and one of the most common ones, they simply let their power get into their heads and thus they began dabbling in the dark arts of fel magic. It was tragic in a way, seeing how they were corrupted now; they could’ve just remained in the college, with time becoming great magicians. Foolishness, it was everywhere… Not surprisingly that dabbling got them both kicked out of the college, forcing them to travel the land for several years while looking for someone to train them in the fel arts. 

The dark elf stopped, he looked at Avariss and then at Lucian who simple nodded, taking a sip from his jug he continued, he told Avariss how on the road they met people and eventually learned new and more powerful spells. Yet they soon found out that that power comes with a price that could not be evaded and had to be paid. He told Avariss on how they both began changing; his face took on a sad expression while he spoke. Yet he seemed to lighten up again as they passed the part about the changing from corruption. The two of them were found wondering on the road by Lord Modeus, at least that’s what Tyreal claimed, he did not tell Avariss why Modeus did bring them here but he did say that in return of them becoming riders they will gain more knowledge and power. As the gift of riding a dragon was not enough, Avariss noted to himself frustratingly. But in his last sentence there was something of extreme importance, he said that there was a rumor that Lord Modeus knew or was learning how to cure Fel corruption. As the dark elf said that Avariss’s eyes opened up tremendously and he stood up, “*Excuse me gentlemen, it was a fine and interesting conversation but I must attend to something. So excuse me, it was nice to make acquaintance with you both*.” Nodding to both of them he marched away from the table. He was a little tipsy but still fully aware of his surroundings and his movements, yet an annoying headache plagued him constantly.

Looking around the hall Avariss spotted Lord Modeus, or more accurately Modeus’s dragon. Below the dragon say Modeus in a table. Avariss’s was so shaken up by that new information he received from Tyreal that he did not even find the fact that a dragon was inside the hall neither weird or scary. He marched to Modeus his face was clearly expressing desperate hope for salvation as he stood by Modeus, he was about to speak but then he reminded himself of who he was talking with and bowed a little, he then spoke like nothing happened, “*Do you or do you not know how to cure fel corruption?!*” He was aggressive in his question, not minding politeness, he had to get an answer and he was determined to get it. “*Please Lord, I need to know!*” he said again, hoping for the best and looking anxiously at Modeus while waiting for an answer.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell looked across the table at the northmen. All but one of them looked friendly enough, one however, adorned with a red tattoo didn't even begin to look almost friendly. The northmen began their drinking game with a shout, thought it became apparent that counting wasn't their forte. He started his drink, but didn't down it as fast as Bjor and the others, he was only there to support Bjor if things got ugly anyway. Meanwhile he looked back at the high table and at Lord Modeus, it then occured to him that Modeus had no last name that he was aware of. This wasn't that unusual for some men or elves, but for someone with as legendary as the High Lord it was almost unheard of. As he was dwelling on this he heard Andaleth speak to him.

"Kell woud you mind telling me a bit about your dragon? What type is it, how did it hatch, what do you know about it? Does your dragon have a name?" He asked in a hurry. Kell regarded him for a moment and then replied "You do ask alot of questions don't you? Well, from what Moedus tells me, he is a shadow dragon, which essentially means he is insane. Content for now to attack me until his hearts content. I wasn't there when he hatched unfortunaetly, i arrived just in time to be attacked by him. And his name is Typhon. A name from the legends of old." 

He regarded Andaleth for a moment and then thought back to his thoughts about Modeus "I have a question of my own for you. What do you know about Modeus, does he have a last name or family name? Or just about him in general. So far all i've managed to see is that he is almost as insane as Typhon and immensely powerful.


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## Santaire

Kell's dragon leapt forward and head butted Kell in the face. Choosing to ignore Kell's reaction but listening to his words "Yes well, it is apparent i have drawn the short end of the lottery of sorts presently. Modeus informs me that Typhon is an ambush predator and will continue to exhibit such behaviour for quite some time. Thanks for the advice, but i hope you can appreciate a dragon is quite different to a wolf." Extraxi smiled "I know, I just wished to give you some advice on caring for your little fiend. And if you think that's bad you should try being hunted by an angry snow bear who just discovered three of your arrows in the throat of it's cub."

As they sat at the table Extraxi examined the other Northmen. They seemed different. He wondered if they had different tribes just as his people had different houses. He decided to ask Bjor later. Scanning the rest of the table he noticed that Kell had sat next to Bjor in case a fight started. Extraxi raised an eyebrow. Kell may be a spirited fighter but the other Northmen towered over him.

Extraxi thought he would have a chance for he had seen overconfident and drunk Northmen fall to weaker elves than him. His kind was more agile, flexible and possessed strength quite surprising for their build. He looked across at Andaleth and Kell and decided to ask them more about where they came from.

“What is your home realm like?” He asked.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor smiled as he shook the hands of the other Northmen, he nodded at Krombak and smiled, *"Aye, I have heard of the Frost-axes, your people are known for their axemenship and battle prowess. Come friend, sit and drink." *he motioned for the other northmen to sit before grabbing his mug. Bjork growled a threat and Bjor pointed at his mug, *"On the count of three we will begin Grimskull, hopefully you will be able to keep up with a Hellwolf."* Krombak started counting and it became very obvious that he did not know how to count past two, something that made Bjor laugh. 

When he finally shouted drink Bjor let out a howl before tipping the mug back and downing the ale in seconds. He moved to the next mug, grabbing one with his left hand as he downed the one in his right and grabbing another with that, he had been the best drinker in the Hellwolf clan and the surrounding clans that lived around them, he would not be beaten by an idiot Grimskull. As he reached his fifth mug he began to slow down a bit, the Grimskull catching up, yet as he finished the fifth and made it to his last two mugs he looked at Minerva and winked.

His dragon cocked her head to the side trying to figure out what he was going to do as the Grimskull picked up his sixth mug. Bjor tilted his head all the way back and stood up as he chugged his sixth mug faster than he chugged his first, gravity taking it down his throat faster than he could make it go himself, the same being said for the seventh which he slammed down onto the table before belching and letting out another howl as he finished the first contest with a smirk on his face. 

He leaned down towards Minerva, *"This may seem primitive to you, but I now have bragging rights and have a higher status than our Grimskull friend. We do not suffer the intricacies of politics that the other races spend so much time on, we are to the point and blunt with what we want and honor and things like that are settled by warriors outside of the shaman's and warchief's realm by either drinking or fighting. Simple yet effective."* Bjor turned to look at the Grimskull,* "So friend, you may not be able to drink ale as fast as I can but can you drink as much as I can?"*


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## revan4559

Andaleth: Kell explains to you that Typhon is a shadow dragon which you remember hearing about that they live down where the so called 'Deep Dwarves' live in the volcanic region of the current known world, you could possibly tell Kell where they come from? Kell then says that he had hatched by the time he had got back from the fighting in the arena earlier and that Typhon attacked him as soon as he came in. After hearing that you wonder if your dragon will do the same? along with once again wondering why yours hasn't hatched, maybe you should ask Modeus why it hasn't hatch yet? After a few moments Kell that asks you and the others if you know anything about why Modeus doesn't have a family name, and that is something you have been wondering aswell. Looking over to the Dragon Lord you can clearly see that he is a Dark Elf and that maybe Extraxi or Avariss would be able to tell you about if Modeus has any ties to any of the noble families back in their homeland. That is of course assuming their old enough to remember Modeus when he was living in the Dark Elf lands as Modeus has told you he has been a dragon rider for over one hundred and fifty years meaning that if the other two Dark Elves are younger than 150 then they wont remember him so the best option would be to ask him? Well you decide that you will tell Kell that you don't really known much about the Dark Lord save for all the legands and stories said about him fighting Dragons and leading great armies into battle. You then hear the Dark Elf Extraxi ask you and Kell about your homeland and it is up to you if you answer or not but both you and Andaleth come from different parts so you may need to explain the differences in the Northmen, and the men of the south along with the further south you go in the human kingdom the different the culture becomes.

Extraxi: You ask both Kell and Andaleth about their homeland and guess that there may be some differences as judging by the difference in their skin colour and appearance Andaleth and Kell come from different parts in the Human Kingdom. While listening to them you also hear Bjor talk to his dragon about bragging rights after winning a drinking contest of only 7 ales to which you remember a Elven story in which an Elf Prince out drank a Dwarven King and that there total had some to somewhere around 48 tankards, whether you tell Bjor that if he had challenged a dwarf or an tell to a drinking contest then it would be likely he would end up throwing up half way through the contest. While looking around the table you can see that now both of the newly hatched dragons are facing off against each other and appears to be about to start a fight with each other, whether you point that out to Bjor is up to you but it could be interesting to see how dragons, even newly hatched dragon, fight each other as you assume that there wouldn't be much difference other than them mabye fighting in the air where they are less likely to crash into food and ale. As you think about the food and ale you decided to move your own away from the dragon's just incase they end up knocking it off the table and ruining it. At the moment you have pretty much free reign of what to do and who to talk to.

Uthiat: Andaleth explains that he hasn't had many lessons on dragon's just yet as that his lesson on how dragon's flying was interupted by the arrival of you and your comrades, you feel slightly annoyed and ashamed. Ashamed for having cut Andaleth's lesson short by being what you can guess an hour or two early, and annoyed that if you had taken your time you could of learnt about Dragon Flight from Andaleth, at the very least you can ask him what he learnt about how dragon's fly as what you can see from inspecting Modeus's own dragon they have quite a large weight to lift off of the ground using very delicate looking wings and you have heard that even the largest of dragon's can fly for ease for days on end if need be. As for the size of the castle having heard that Andaleth has been here for several days and only been in about a quarter of it you guess that infact this keep goes further underground like all Dwarven Holds yet that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable being under layers and layers of stone and rock incase it collapses along with Elves have always prefered to live above ground or untop of mountains not in them but then again Dwarven craftmanship is legandary and some of the great buildings in the White Cities of your homeland are said to of had Dwarves help build them. While thinking on the lessons you will be given by the Dragon Lord you wonder exactly how powerful he is, maybe you should ask those around you including the other Northmen is they have any idea how strong he is.

Avariss: Modeus stops mid sentence while talking to Grungar when you demand and answer from him and turns to look at you clearly annoyed you interupted hid conversation with the dwarf king before lightning up slightly. "No Avariss i do not have a cure for the Fel Corruption that will eventually take you and Andaleth and currently grips Tyreal, Lucain and several others within the appearentices. However i am currently studying arcane means to SLOW the progression down abit but the first tests of that won't be ready for several months and a full cure could take years, decades or perhaps centuries. Do you really think im the first one to try and look for a cure since Fel Magic was first used? No, im having to go on all the research i have found from on my travels conducted by others who have searched for a cure. So please atleast be patient in your wait and focus on your apprenticeship as that will keep your mind off of it for awhile. Now why don't you return to drinking with Tyreal and Lucian or if you have had enough of looking at what you may end up becoming then go join the others within your group for some drinks and have a good time?" With that Modeus waves a dismissive hand and goes back to talking to Grungar about some new keep being built. If your partially drunk mind registers that then it is up to you but if you remember it by the time you get back to the table depends on how drunk you are. It is up to you what you decide to do now, but you remember that Modeus said that Andaleth the dark skinned human had powers like yours, maybe you should talk to him about it?

Kell: After answering Andaleth about Typhon you ask him about if he knows about Modeus and while waiting for your answer you notice that Andaleth pulls Typon out from under the table and places him down ontop of it oddly though Typhon has blood on his claws, maybe you should ask Andaleth why he does? After accepting abit of meat from Andaleth Typon turns to look at you with his piercing green eyes before sitting down in a rather feline like posture and stares at you before a voice echo's in your head. "You are rather interesting...for a human. Tell me why have you come to this place Human?" Wondering where the voice comes from you wonder if you should answer it but you don't know how except to speak out loud so it is your choice if you answer the question. After a few moments Typhon gets bored of sitting still and gets back into a pouncing position and aims himself straight for Minerva, Bjor's dragon, who has now noticed Typhon's stance and got into a similar one before starting to making threatening hissing sounds at Typhon who reacts in turn. Maybe you should stop Typhon from pouncing and attacking the young female incase Bjor gets angry and thinks that is it all your fault. You then hear the Dark Elf Extraxi ask you and Andaleth about your homeland and it is up to you if you answer or not but both you and Andaleth come from different parts so you may need to explain the differences in the Northmen, and the men of the south along with the further south you go in the human kingdom the different the culture becomes.

Bjor: At your last challenge something snaps within the Grimskull and he slams his tankard down onto the table with fierce force. "Arrogant yong whelp! Drinking fast means nothing compared to how much you drink! I have been drinking since i arrived here an hour before you! While you are merely on your 8-9th Tankard i am on my 17th! So do not dare think you can out drink me! Drinking games are about endurance not speed!" With that the Grimskull throws back the rest of his ale before picking up another. "Beside how do i know you won't cheat and claims to have drunk more after i inevitibly pass out from his strong dwarven ale!? I do not trust you and i am certainly not a friend of a slack jawed whelp from the Hellwolf Clan!" How you reach to the insults and accusations of cheating by the Grimskull is up to you but you do think that if him and the other Northmen are on the same side and a fight kicks off they may overpower the two humans and elves that are with your group as you don't know how strong elves can be. Though while hearing about how much the Grimskull has already drunk you are slightly impressed but to you the bet was to drink the fastest not about drinking the most so you can still claim victory if you leave it at that. With a whistle from the Grimskull a black dragon twice the size of Minerva and Kell's dragon Typhon comes running over and skids to a stop. "Plus your puny dragon is pathetic compared to my Fhuldrark!" The black dragon called Fhuldrak inclines its head to a nod at you when his master/partner isnt looking before taking a chicken leg off the table and starts to chew on it.


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## komanko

Only after Avariss spoke it was clear to him that Modeus was in a mid sentence when he interfered, looking at the figure nearby he saw the dwarven king, Grungar and they were clearly both talking about something of importance. Now not able to finish his sentence Modeus looked at Avariss, he rightfully seemed annoyed probably from the rude interruption, he looked at Avariss for a moment, a frown expression on his face, and then he suddenly lightened up, sighing and looking at Avariss differently now, something which resembled the look on a father’s face as he is trying to explain something to his still young son. Modeus kept looking at Avariss, an awkward silence was set between the trio but soon Modeus broke it.

He did not know if it was the effect of the alcohol which clouded his judgment and made him act so impulsively but Modeus’s words quite quickly shown Avariss the stupidity in his words, the foolishness which he demanded to know from Modeus. He could not realize why he thought that Modeus would know the answer to the question which so much people tried answering in the past. As Modeus spoke Avariss saw it more and more clearly, his idiotic question shining in the light, yet instead of realizing his mistakes Avariss felt anger and rage boil inside of him, as Modeus spoke, as he said that it could take months, years or even decades the rage he felt inside already threatened to overwhelm him, it felt like it was consuming him from the inside and in his weakened state of mind due to the tremendous amount of alcohol he consumed he could do nothing to regain control. 

In his mind all hell broke loose when Modeus asked him if he had enough of looking at what he will end up becoming, for the first time in his entire life he felt like his mind became one, he felt complete and he felt enraged. Without listening to any other words Modeus had to say Avariss spat out furiously, “*I will NOT end up like that*!” His inner pain and hatred towards Modeus’s words could easily be seen on his face, “*You dare speaking of having a good time*” He venomously spat, no longer watching his tone, “*You claim they are my friends while one of them intentionally tried to kill me and none of the others trusts me, I have done nothing wrong in my life and people treat me like some disease filled bastard that should be cast aside like some unwanted item. Well let me tell you something my lord! I AM NOT AN ITEM TO BE CAST ASIDE!!*” He said, his eyes lighting up in dark green flames, as finally he and Voice became one for a short period, unimaginable power coursing through his veins corrupting him and poisoning his mind with promises of power and salvation. “*If you cannot find the cure I will find it myself! As what good will a dragon do to me!? I will corrupt it as I corrupt myself!!*”

“*This body of mine! It’s nothing but a vessel of destruction, it is filled with the blood of demons and the corrupt, why not just end its miserable existence!*” In his rage Avariss did not feel a Voice began tipping the scales onto his favor, gaining more and more control over the body of Avariss. Pulling out a knife Voice stretched out Avariss’s hand and laid it on the wooden table, “T*his body is just a tool, it is MY means of arriving into this existence, and it’s my vessel, I am Voice! I am the true being that controls this tortured and miserable mind! He does as I will!!*” With that Voice moved the hand down, swiftly, precisely, in a blink it pierced Avariss’s left hand, black blood spilled from the open wound, filling the hand and then stopping, the wound closed, magically healed, Voice showed his power over the mortal vessel, “*I control this body to every extant I want and need, it is mine, and I will lurk there always! As for you Avariss, you Will NEVER banish me; I am bound to you by fate as you are bound to me!*”

With that Voice disappeared the eerie glow left Avariss’s eyes as he stood motionless, ashamed and humiliated, he knew exactly what happened, in his carelessness he let Voice get the best of him, take control of his body, twice in the same day, the feeling was terrible, his head was pounding and all he could hear were the words of Voice, piercing through his skull relentlessly pounding any other thought to dust, the feeling was terrible… Avariss stormed out of the hall, and ones behind the doors closed behind him he threw up, everything he eaten and drank along with some of the black blood from earlier and what seemed to be a worm of some sort. He knelt, taking deep heavy breaths, his head still pounding like it never did before. He was clueless to what to do next or to what Modeus will do with him, he just sat down on the cold hard floor, his pale skin even paler then before, he sat there staring blankly at the wall, no emotion showing on his face, not thought passing through his mind, he was a blank empty shell, he just stared…

OOC: This is approved


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## Midge913

"You do ask alot of questions don't you? Well, from what Moedus tells me, he is a shadow dragon, which essentially means he is insane. Content for now to attack me until his hearts content. I wasn't there when he hatched unfortunaetly, i arrived just in time to be attacked by him. And his name is Typhon. A name from the legends of old." Kell told Andaleth in response to his question. 

Thinking back Andaleth seemed to recall hearing something about Shadow Dragons in the past. He had heard in passing from a Dwarven aquiantence that the holds of the Deep Dwarves had run ins with Shadow Dragons frequently and meaning that they must typically live underground. 

"Ahhhh, yes. I have heard of their kind," Andaleth replied. "Back in Heirensburg I had a contact, a Dwarven Merchant to be specific, that spoke of encounters his race had with Shadow Dragons. He said that in the southern volcanic holds they were quite common, especially deep in the mountains."

Hearing that Typhon had already been hatched when Kell arrived in his room was disappointing to hear. Andaleth had hoped he would learn something about his own dragon from Kell's experience. Well to be honest he did learn to be on his guard once the thing hatched. Andaleth didn't know if his own dragon would be as 'playful' as Kell's had been, but it didn't hurt to prepare for that eventuality. The more he thought about the fact that Kell's and Bjor's dragons had hatched so quickly, made him think about the fact that his own had not. He resovled to finally ask Lord Modeus about it once he had finished talking with his companions. 

Kell listened to his bit of information regarding Shadow Dragons then said, "I have a question of my own for you. What do you know about Modeus, does he have a last name or family name? Or just about him in general. So far all i've managed to see is that he is almost as insane as Typhon and immensely powerful."

"I don't know much about the Dragon Lord other than what I have heard in the legends and stories," Andaleth replied. "As to his sanity I don't really think that he is insane, but his mood does shift rather rapidly. One moment he will seem very angry, the next indulgent. As to his power, I have no doubt that he could easily defeat every apprentice in this room, individually, or dare I say together, if he so chose. The extent of his powers are a mystery to me as well, but I do know that he has a vast amount of knowlege." 

Andaleth glanced across the table and saw that Etraxi was listening to the conversation between him and Kell. When Andaleth caught his eye Etraxi asked them, "What is your home realm like?”

"Well I grew up in the city of Heirensburg, in the southern region of the country," Andaleth started. "I suppose one would think it is a beautiful city on the surface. The buildings are beautiful, but in my opinion the city if rife with political intrigue and selfishness. The rich are rich and the poor scrape by with what they can. I spent all of my life either in the streets as an orphan or frequenting the underbelly of the city. My previous line of work was more accepted there. I looked forward to the times that my contracts would take me out of the city into the countryside surrounding it. Now that was beauty. Rolling hills and massive forests." Andaleth took a sip of his ale before continuing,"I suppose the city was nice enough. But I will tell you that being out here in the wilderness, away from the machinations of so many is a welcome change."

Andaleth paused as Kell spoke of his homeland and was visited by memories of the past. He remembered standing on the roof of a house deep in the poor district in Heirensburg, staring up at the golden domes and raised spires of the inner city and wondering what it would be like to be rich and influential. To live somewhere where you didn't have to scrape for every meal or worry about a knife in the back over a few pieces of silver. Things would have been better if he had money and on that presumption he had joined the theives guild. Those folks up in the land of the prosperous could afford to be without so that he could raise up a bit. He had decided that he would learn the trade of the theif, a decision he never regretted.

After Kell finished speaking, Andaleth decided that now was as good a time as any to approach Modeus about his egg, so he stood excusing himself from his companions and made his way to the front of the room. 

As he approached he saw that Modeus was deep in conversation with King Grungar, so he sat to the side and waited for an opportunity to speak to him. He looked around the hall and saw that there appeared to be apprentices from just about every race represented. Wood Elf Rangers in muted shades of green and brown, Human Paladins resplendent in shining armor, and mages of many races dotted the room their brightly colored robes setting them apart from the others. 

He saw dotted in amongst the crowd, but mostly on the fringes, those that were unmistakeably Warlocks. They were all in various states of corruption, though none of them as far gone as the two that had been speaking to Avariss. Maybe there was hope yet that the mutations that would be brought on by the use of his gifts would not progress as quickly as he feared. 

He saw Modeus lean away from Grungar and ask one of the many servers in the hall for more drink, so Andaleth took this opportunity to approach. "My Lord," he began, " I was wondering if you would be able to answer some questions for me about my egg. I have been here longer than they other apprentices from my group, yet some of their eggs have already hatched while mine has not. I was wondering if there was something I was supposed to be doing in caring for mine that I have not done? Or is mine of a species that takes longer to incubate?"


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat listened as Andaleth spoke. _“__Training is most difficult, especially the arcane” _Uthiat nodded. If he was to be able to defend himself, especially with a blade, it was going to be hard. Somehow that was one thing that Uthiat was expecting after seeing what Modeus had in store.

_"I have learned precious little about dragons yet in all honesty. Modeus and I were in the middle of my first lesson about dragons and the mechanics of their flight when you all began to arrive, and since my egg has yet to hatch, I haven't even had the opportunity to study and work with my own drake."_ Uthiat had a twinge of regret on his face. That knowledge would be something that they might need. Depriving another of the dragon riders to be information was something he would not want to do. 

_“… I believe that we may learn more than we bargained for."_ Uthait smiled hearing those words. “I’ll drink to that,” he replied. There was something about the human that didn’t feel right. The man had a thirst for knowledge, which was always a good thing, but there was something else. Perhaps it would take some time to figure out. In the mean time Andaleth and Kell, one of the northmen, began to talk.

A series of thoughts moved through Uthiat’s mind as he sipped at his ale again. The fortress itself was rather intimidating, mostly because it existed under a mountain. This was a rather interesting position for him as most elf's lived above ground. He had spent only a shot time under ground in his life, and the realization that they were under the mountain gave him some concern. 

The high elf looked up as Avariss stood before Modeus. He wondered what the warlock was asking. In his years he had met several of them, and for the most part they were decent people in the beginning. Eventually they all fell. It was a shame that they did. As Uthiat watched Avariss lowered his head. It wasn’t the words that he heard over the others, it was the tone. A low rumble of anger and rage. Uthiat tried to listen but only caught a few words in the beginning. He shook his head and reached for his mug. He focused reaching out with his hearing and then with a simple incantation. In his minds eye he saw the actions.

*“...disease filled bastard that should be cast aside like some unwanted item. Well let me tell you something my lord! I AM NOT AN ITEM TO BE CAST ASIDE!!**If you cannot find the cure I will find it myself! As what good will a dragon does to me!? I will corrupt as I corrupted myself!!*” The voice began to slip. Something else was emerging. Uthiat formed a fist as he pulled his hands away from the mug. Tiny flames formed around his fingers.


Had the warlock fallen? Surely he did not appear that corrupted. As Avariss drew a dagger Uthiat pushed from the table and focused. If whatever was speaking made a move on the Dragon Lord it would find itself in far more trouble than it may expect.

The dark elf, or whatever controlled it continued to shout, and cut its own hand. Then it stopped. There was silence from the warlock and Modeus. Avariss then quickly left.


As Uthiat watched he released the magic allowing it to disappear from his hand. He rejoined the table after being sure the warlock was gone. 



The conversations continued until there was a small break. Uthiat then spoke up to the others around him. "Modeus is an individual that I have only heard in story, and tale. Some of you have been here some time longer than I, and that may give you a better idea of what Modeus is capable of. How strong do you think he is?" 

As he asked part of his thoughts went to what they had endured since arriving, and what they may endure soon. Especially if what Andaleth said was true about those who cast arcane magics.


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## Santaire

Well I grew up in the city of Heirensburg, in the southern region of the country," Andaleth started. "I suppose one would think it is a beautiful city on the surface. The buildings are beautiful, but in my opinion the city if rife with political intrigue and selfishness. The rich are rich and the poor scrape by with what they can. I spent all of my life either in the streets as an orphan or frequenting the underbelly of the city. My previous line of work was more accepted there. I looked forward to the times that my contracts would take me out of the city into the countryside surrounding it. Now that was beauty. Rolling hills and massive forests." Extraxi was listening attentively to what the man was saying. Andaleth took a sip of his ale before continuing,"I suppose the city was nice enough. But I will tell you that being out here in the wilderness, away from the machinations of so many is a welcome change."

Extraxi nodded, he himself had spent his early years in a city were intrigue was as much a part of life as eating or sleeping. He had hated it there and the stifling politics were the main reason he had left the city to spend the rest of his life in the wilderness. His family had disowned him, casting away the only chance he had ever had of gaining the throne, not that he had wanted that 'honour'.

As Kell told Extraxi of his home city Extraxi sat back and compared Kell and Andaleth. There were fundamental difference such as their skin colour. They evidently both came from different parts of the human empire. Extraxi heard Bjor saying something and turned to look at the Norseman.

Bjor was talking to his dragon about bragging rights after winning a drinking contest of only 7 ales, hearing which made Extraxi remember a Elven story in which an Elf Prince out drank a Dwarven King and that there total had some to somewhere around 48 tankards. "Bjor," he said quietly. The Norseman turned and Extraxi continued "if yuo had challenged a dwarf or an elf to a drinking contest then you would probably end up spewing on the floor so do not boast about winning a drinking contest where the total was a mere 7 tankards." Extraxi waited for Bjor's reply...


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## Angel of Blood

"I don't know much about the Dragon Lord other than what I have heard in the legends and stories. As to his sanity I don't really think that he is insane, but his mood does shift rather rapidly. One moment he will seem very angry, the next indulgent. As to his power, I have no doubt that he could easily defeat every apprentice in this room, individually, or dare I say together, if he so chose. The extent of his powers are a mystery to me as well, but I do know that he has a vast amount of knowlege." Andaleth replied. Kell privately thought to himself that Andaleth must have a different definition of sanity, Modeus still seemed somewhat unhinged to Kell, but then perhaps unmeasurable power makes one slightly eccentric.

Andaleth then pulled Typhon out from under the table, who know had blood on his claws. Kell raised an eyebrow at him quizzically "What have you been doing now?" he asked, suspicious of the little dragon.

Extraxi then entered into the conversation, asking them both what their homeland was like. Andaleth then proceeded to explain all about the southern lands of Bel'angrath and the capital. Meanwhile Kell noticed Typhon start staring at him intently, he instantly braced himself for a potential attack, but the dragon seemed content to continue staring at him. 

"You are rather interesting...for a human. Tell me why have you come to this place Human?" A voice said. Kell looked around confused, unable to identify where the voice came from, Typhon still staring intently at him. "Must be getting tired" He muttered to himself.

Andaleth finished talking about his home and Extraxi turned to listen to Kell talk about where he came from. As he did though Kell noticed Typhon adopt a attacking stance toward Bjors dragon. Kell breifly looked back at Extraxi and distractedly said "Me? I was from Manar and Manar, well isn't. Excuse me." 

Kell then reached fowards and pulled Typhon back "Nooooo you don't, fight with the others, but lets at least try and keep it civil between our new companions". Bjors competition and conversation with the other northmen seemed to be taking a turn for the worse. Kell started subtly stretching himself out, preparing himself for a potential fight. He came to the realisation though that he was unarmed and whilst he could brawl as much as the next man, the northmen were much larger and well built than him. He carefully started looking around for makeshift weapons. If it came to a fight, he wouldn't be caught unguarded.


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## revan4559

Andaleth: As you approch Modeus you can clearly see that he is not happy about what Avariss has just done as when you get close and say his name his dark purple eyes look up at you with dark magical energy flowing them from then purple flames. "Exscuse me a minute Andaleth i need to deal with that warlock." Lifting up a pure black sphere the size of a scrying orbs Modeus places it on the table before holding up his left hand which bursts into dark purple flames, watching intently at application of more powerful magic you can see the form of two statues of iron in the wall way either side of Avariss in the reflection of the black orb. Slamming his hand down and gripping the black orb the purple flames from Modeus's hand transfer to engulf the orb aswell yet you can still see the form of Avariss and before you have a chance to ask what Modeus is doing, which is making you feel partially afraid and wanting to not bother him with questions, you see the eyes and joints of the statues either side of Avariss glow dark purple before they come to life and then the image disappears along with the flames around your masters hand, the black orbs and from Modeus's eyes. Letting out a sigh Modeus turns his attention to you and finally answers you. "Your egg hasn't hatched due to something you haven't done Andaleth, if you remember i am the first person to attempt to harness the power of dragons so when it comes down to predicting when the eggs will hatch, I haven't got it refined yet but i can assure you that your egg will hatch within the next three or four days as i have narrowed down the time frames to within a week. If that is all please return to your table unless you have more questions." Modeus leans back in his chair and stares at you with his dark purple eyes that are very unsettling to look into.

Extraxi: After telling Bjor that he could lose to a Dwarof or Elf you return to talk to the others so that the northmen can continue with their drinking contest, you can see that Kell has once again been attacked by his dragon and that Andaleth has gone over to talk to the High Lord about something yet you can see the High Lord conjouring some form of powerful spell before channeling purple flames into a black sphere. You then here Uthiat ask the group at the table if they have a guess at just how powerful Modeus is when you hear the Northman Krombrak say something about one of the tales surronding Modeus(see Uthiar's update). You then start to think on the tales that you heard of Modeus when growing up as he is atleast a good One-Hundread and Fifty years older than any elf in this room and is strangely still young compared to how old elves usually are when they reach the level of fame that Modeus is at as on average the elven race can live well into three-thousand years old with those mages maybe pushing the four-thousand mark. If you wish to tell Uthait of the tales you know of Modeus as they clearly differ from race to race as you remember that other than the northmen and sometimes the dwarves the Dark Elf race barely has any contact with the other races even though the High Elves are only south of them and do sometimes get reinforcements from them when the evils of the Dark Lands assaults the northen realms.

Uthiat: As you sit back down at the table and ask the others about Modeus you feel a build up of powerful magic and turning around you can see the Dragon Lord conjouring some unknown spell to you but it has made his eyes and hand become wreathed in purple flame before he flames his hand and transfers the flames to a black scrying orb before the flames then fade and Modeus returns to talking to Andaleth. As you turn back to look at the others around you, Krombrak the Northman decides to answer your question. "The High Lord is extremely powerful though his true level of strength is unknown he is able to defeat the monsters he keeps locked away under the arena with his bare hands and his magic. Though there is a tale from the frozen wastes that he once held a glacier bridge against hordes and hordes of undead for three days before his Dragon and a supporting army of Northmen and Dark Elves arrived to help the Dragon Lord beat them back, i believe that the battle was known as: The Battle for Black Glacier Pass. Have you heard of it my tall pointy eared friend?" Krombrak probably doesn't mean any insult by calling you tall and pointy eared as that is generally how all other races save your dark elf and wood elf cousins refer to elf race as a whole. You can answer Krombrak on whether or not you know about that tale concerning Modeus but people are likely to exaggerate how many undread Modeus slew during those days he was holding the pass, and the only way to get a real account of how strong Modeus is would be to ask him yourself, though you decide you may wait until tomorrow as the constant interruptions to his conversation with King Grugnar may annoy Modeus to the extent where he could teleport you somewhere unpleasant. You can talk to the others about what ever you want.

Avariss: Staring straight ahead into the flickering flames of the torch mounted on the wall directly opposite you, you do not notice the two large suits of army wielding halberds come to life behind you as in the joints of their armour and the eye slots of their helmets glow with an eerie purple glow. As the suits of armour slowly step off their stands and towards you, you may snap out of your day dream if you want to but you will still be slow to react thanks to the amount of ale that youu have drunk. As the statues now get close to you they stand either side and reach down hauling you up to your feet(if your able to standard) or simply grab you by the arms as they proceed to lead you, or drag you back(if your not walking back) to your own room where they unlock the door and escort you inside before tossing you onto the bed with unnatural strength. The two suits of armour then turn and make their way outside of your room before closing the room behind them where you hear a key inside of the door lock as they clearly lock you inside to think about what you have done and get some rest ready for tomorrows training. What you do inside of your room if up to you but you now have time to think on how ashamed you feel due to the outburst of the Voice infront of Lord Modeus, King Grugnar, the dwarves and the other apprentices and how you are going to explain it to them tomorrow.

Kell: As you look around for makeshift weapons incase of a fight starts you see hear the voice within your head again. "I asked you a direct question human, now for ignoring me you are going to pay." As soon as the voice says that you go on alert and just react quickly enough to see Typhon launch himself from the table and straight towards you aiming to head butt you in the chest again and knock you off of your chair(up to you if he succeeds). After a few moments of trying to figure out who that voice belonged to you remember something that Uthiat said earlier about dragons apparently having the ability speak into the mind of anyone they wish to. As you slowly look at Typhon it slowly dawns on you that it is him as as he flails and writhes in your arms after having caught him after he attacked you(if you didnt catch him first time then he attacked you again) you can hear the voice within your head which is definately male and partially high pitched. "Let me go you over grown ape! You humans should not handle us majestic dragons in such away! Now release me before I bite off every one of your fingers." Typhon's head then shifts to face you before his baleful feline like green eyes lock with yours and he lets out a hissing out. Having no idea how you answer a dragon that talks in such away you will just have to guess in how you will answer him and try to convince him not to attack you again or bite your fingers.

Bjor: OOC: See your previous update and Santaire's post between this update and the previous.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor's face was red with hate, just as the Grimskull turned to laugh at one of the Thunderhammer's the thick tankard in Bjor's hand was connecting with the side of his face with so much force that the wood actually shattered, the Hellwolf berserker roaring in rage as his other hand followed up quickly with an uppercut. He knew that this would start a fight between the two groups but he had faith that the Thunderhammers and the other clansman would hold true to their people's teachings and not interfere with him and the Grimskull.

It was custom among the people of the North that if someone had challenged another person's honor, said person who's honor was being challenged could do one of two things; they could ignore the challenge and go on with their lives, if you did this then you were considered a coward, or you could fight the one challenging you and if you put up a good fight then your honor was cleared. No one could interfere with the fight and if the person who was challenging the attacker's honor backed out, or was not knocked out from the attacker, was considered a liar and a coward. 

He figured the other clansmen would jump his friends but he had faith that they could hold themselves in a fistfight if they needed to.


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi saw that Kell had once again been attacked by Typhon. He shook his head sadly, if it was his home such a rebelious creature would have been killed long ago. 'That's one of the reasons I left' he reminded himself. He had hated watching innocent creatures killed for doing what was in their nature. Andaleth had gone to talk with Modeus.

He overheard Uthiat asking just how powerful Modeus was and heard one of the northmen answer. "The High Lord is extremely powerful though his true level of strength is unknown he is able to defeat the monsters he keeps locked away under the arena with his bare hands and his magic. Though there is a tale from the frozen wastes that he once held a glacier bridge against hordes and hordes of undead for three days before his Dragon and a supporting army of Northmen and Dark Elves arrived to help the Dragon Lord beat them back, I believe that the battle was known as The Battle for Black Glacier Pass. Have you heard of it my tall pointy eared friend?"

He smiled thinly, remembering the stories he had heard as a child. Modeus was at least a hundred and fifty years older than every other elf in the room but was still young considering his fame. Elves often lived to almost three thousand years of age and some mighty mages lived to four thousand. "I heard," Extraxi said "that Modeus was powerful enough to take on 3 fully grown dragons by himself and still have strength enough to hold off an army. And I was there during the battle with the undead and he did not just hold them off, he had driven them back over the bridge and we only arrived when he had reached and become stalled once he reached the flat land past the bridge."

"There are tales in my homeland that he was born as, for want of a better word, a slave and left as soon as he was able. It is told that his 'owners' thought he would not last but he did. He came here and discovered an unhatched dragon egg. He took it and it grew into the mighty creature it is today. I have heard other races say that he was born into royalty but he was not." He finished. As he waited for a response from Uthiat he heard a crash and turned quickly. Bjor had just slammed his tankard into his drinking opponent's face before launching a savage uppercut that smashed into his enemy's face.

Extraxi held out a warning hand to Uthiat, warning him not to try and interfere. "This is Bjor's fight..."


----------



## Midge913

When Andaleth had approached where Lord Modeus sat speaking with Grungar, he had been so intent on the question that he was going t ask that he hadn't noticed the Dragon Lord's mood. But as Andaleth's rused question finally spilled all the way out, he looked up and saw that Modeus was definitely angered by something. Modeus stared in the direction of the door into the main hall and his eye filled with purple flame. Taking a slight step back in suprise Andaleth nearly tripped over a stool as Modeus said, "Exscuse me a minute Andaleth I need to deal with that warlock." 

Andaleth wasn't sure what Modeus was talking about, but he quickly scanned the hall and noticed that Avariss was not to be seen. He looked back to the Dragon Lord and saw that Modeus had removed what appeared to be a large black sphere, obviously a scrying orb, from underneath the table and had placed it in front of him on the table. Modeus lifted his left hand which burst into purple flames. Andaleth had never really felt the stirring of magic in another user before, but this time he could feel the vast amounts of power that the Dragon Lord drew about himself. Looking into the orb Andaleth thought he saw what appeared to be the hallway just outside of the Great Hall. He also saw Avariss, sitting up against a wall in that hallway. The view from the orb, especially from where he was standing was not great, but Andaleth saw that Avariss was flanked by two statues. Andaleth was caught up in the vorex of power that Modeus was creating and fear like he had never known welled up in him. Modeus was frightening. The amount of power that Modeus wielded was enough to bring this keep and all in it to ruin. 

Unable to tear his eyes away from the scene displayed in the orb, Andaleth jumped again as Modeus brought his fist slamming down onto the orb. The purple flames that had seconds before rested in the palm of the Dragon Lords hand, flowed down into the orb. Immediately the joints and eyes of the statues that flanked the form of Avariss flared with purple flame. Andaleth watched, rapt with awe at the magic displayed, as the statues came to life and stepped from thier plinths. With that the image in the orb went dark, and looking up Andaleth saw that the purple flames had disappeared from his master's eyes. Such powerful workings and Modeus barely looked fatigued. Another piece of information to file away for later thought. 

Modeus turned his attention back onto Andaleth and said, "Your egg hasn't hatched due to something you haven't done Andaleth, if you remember i am the first person to attempt to harness the power of dragons so when it comes down to predicting when the eggs will hatch, I haven't got it refined yet but i can assure you that your egg will hatch within the next three or four days as i have narrowed down the time frames to within a week. If that is all please return to your table unless you have more questions."

Andaleth met Modeus eyes and was taken aback by the dormant power that he could still sense. "I understand my lord," Andaleth replied, "I apologize for interrupting." Andaleth quickly returned to his seat, took a long draft of his ale. He turned to speak to Uthiat, the other apprentice that might be able to share some insight onto what he had just witnessed, but before he could say anything the far end of the table, where Bjor and the other Northmen had been drinking, errupted into shouts and noise. Andaleth turned to just as Bjor rose and smashed his tankard directly into the face of the man he had been drinking with. He moved around to put himself in position to fend off anyone that would attept to sneak up behind the Northman. 

He heard Extraxi warn other's not to interefere with the fight, which Andaleth had no intentions of doing, but he wanted to make sure the fight remained fair.....


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell scanned the surrounding area. The table was full of makeshift weapons, the most obvious of course being the knifes for food. However he was fairly certain that Modeus would not appreciate him attempting to kill another one of his Apprentices. The various bowls and plates would all make for a good opening strike, but would then become useless. Finally his eyes fell upon a cloak stand against the wall that he fancied could quiet easily be turned into a weapon of sorts.

He made to get up to subtly position himself closer to the stand when he heard the voice in his head again "I asked you a direct question human, now for ignoring me you are going to pay." As he looked around he noticed Typhon once again in an umistakeable pouncing position. Just in time he flung out his arm as Typhon pounced and managed to catch the dragon around its neck mid jump. _"Oh no you don't little one"_ he muttered. He looked around again, confused as to where the voice could come from. Then it suddenly dawned on him. He slowly looked back towards Typhon and Uthiats words came to mind. As he locked eyes with the dragon he heard in his voice one again "Let me go you over grown ape! You humans should not handle us majestic dragons in such away! Now release me before I bite off every one of your fingers."

Kell looked at Typhon for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. Looking right into his eyes he quietly said_ "So your the mysterious voice in my head then are you? And majestic? Is that how you describe yourselves?"_ He let out another laugh as he said this. _"Very well, i will put you down, though i must insist that you stop attacking me. There is a rather irritating warlock that is much more deserving of your efforts"_ He said this with a smirk, the thought of Avariss reaction to Typhon attacking him amusing him no end.

He was about to continue when the moment he had been waiting for happened. Bjor had swung his tankard into the other northman and began to fight him. Kell fancied he saw one of the others moving in to aid the first. Kell looked directly at Typhon _"Stay here!"_. He then vaulted over the table and skidded into the cloak stand. Knocking the coats off he tested its weight. It was wooden and light, but he was no quarterstaff fighter. Instead he brought it down across his knee to snap it in two, creating two makeshift batons. Twirling them around he grinned at one of the northmen_ "Game on"_ then launched himself at him, batons spinning.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat sat and listened to the others as he took another drink from his mug. "The Battle for Black Glacier Pass," he repeated as he searched his memory, "I have heard of it yes. An old trader told me the tale. You say you were there my Dark Elf friend and arrived after he had pressed the army back from the bridge. A man with the correct abilities should be able to hold an army of size in a bottle neck. The weapons that we used earlier bare testament that he has a collection of items to aid him.”

There was a sudden build up of magics in the air. Uthiat glanced back toward the source, back to Modeus. Purple flames licked at the dark elf's hands and in his eyes. The display had the attention of others as the magics twisted into some spell that Uthiat could not recognize. Modeus lowered his hands to a scrying orb. The purple fire slid effortlessly into the ball as the spell finished. With that the remaining flames disappeared and the dragon lord turned back to the dwarf king and continued talking. 

There was a moment of silence as the others saw the display as well. “I have learned through the years that stories are built on truths but very rarely are they the real truth. I would more likely trust your words, Extraxi, especially to what you have seen.” Uthiat leaned back and took another sip from his ale before glancing toward Bjor again. Fists were about to start flying. "Should we move," Uthiat asked as he watched the northmen. A second later wood snapped as Kell launched himself into the fight. “Oh my,” Uthiat said as he quickly stood to move away, “This won’t end well.”


----------



## komanko

He had to pick himself up, he had to stay strong under the relentless assaults of Voice, maybe the whole new crowed of people was just too much for both of them to bear at ones as Voice was never as active and evil before, he was dormant most of the time but now, he slipped through any gap in Avariss’s defenses. That… Demon, it was ambitious and untiring, Avariss had to rid himself of Voice’s constant presence or at least find a way to control the beast which lurked within him.

The wall in front of him was made out of some kind of a black stone, it was possibly volcanic due to the black color it possessed yet Avariss could not tell in his current state of mind, grief and sorrow tightening their grip on him again… He knew that Modeus won’t let the actions that Voice committed simply go by, the High Lord was not that type, he will react and Avariss knew that he won’t be ready when that happens.

Suddenly another wave of nausea passed through him and he threw up again, it was certainly not a pretty sight. The lights in front of him flickered and danced with joy, looking at the flame he felt only shame and disgust, even such a simple being could be free of doubt and live its life, only he could not… He smashed his fist at the ground in anger, it hurt, a lot, yet it made him snap out of this grievous state of mind and it made him aware of his surroundings. He had to do something himself, find a way to hold back Voice. 

Avariss pushed himself up, yet only halfway up he realized that it was not him who pushed him up, looking to the sides frantically he saw two huge metallic hands, they were shaped as a gauntlet and they closed around his shoulders, picking him up… He turned his head back as much as he could and managed to catch a glimpse of the two giant suits of armour which began dragging him with them. He did not fight, he knew that it was Modeus’s punishment, it was clear. 

The suits dragged him through several corridors, he threw up again on the way, he was not sure now if it was the effects of the ale he drank or the effects of something else… The suits continued dragging him forward and he watched as they passed corridors which looked familiar to Avariss, the world around him was spinning, he was still dizzy from the drinks earlier this evening… The suits finally dragged him to his destination, his feet were dangling behind him, he was too drunk to walk straight so he let the giants of steel do the work for him. Looking up he saw a blurry door which was quickly opened and a moment later he was tossed inside like a doll into the bed, those giants of steel had enormous strength and it made Avariss wonder if Modeus was channeling his strength to them… It was not important right now.

From his position on the bed he heard a key turning; he was locked inside his own quarters. An idiotic smile spread on Avariss’s face as he saw that he was treated like a damn child. He was not a damn child, he was not! His anger seared anew as he unleashed a bolt of fel fire at the already shattered mirror, completely destroying it. He snarled in anger and he did not know at what he was angry, he was confused and uncertainty filled his mind. Walking back to his bed Avariss laid down on it, he will deal with that tomorrow, now he had to get rest and clear his mind from those troubled thoughts. Maybe he wont wake up tomorrow, maybe his suffering will end quickly…


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## revan4559

Andaleth: As you move to get ready to stop any of the other northmen joining in the fight and making it uneven you can see Kell go over and make some form of weapon out of a cloak stand and prepare to fight the Northman from the Frost-Axe clan but the three northmen from the Thunderhammer clan seems to ignore this and go about eating and drinking while talking to each other in their native language. This put you at ease knowing that the fights are fair and now you can go back to drinking your ale and finishing your food while you let Bjor and Kell have their fights but remain alert just incase the fight between Kell and the Northman gets too out of hand. Sitting back down next to Uthait you hear him talking about the legands surronding Modeus and think back on the Dragon Lord and what you had just witnessed at his table, especially the great magical power he wields along with his legandary swordsmanship clearly Modeus is one of the strongest, if not the strongest living elf yet his past is so unknown and mysterious it raises questions where exactly he got all of his power from. While sitting at your table with your companions your mind turns to think on the weapons that the other apprentices used earlier and wonder if the High Lord forged them himself or found them, maybe you should ask him sometime? while thinking about the wepons you wonder about the High Lords own personal weapon, the sword which he always carries with him. You have never seen him draw it, not even in the sparring lessons you have had with him maybe you should ask the others if they have any idea about it.

Extraxi: While your other companions do not join in the fight that Bjor has started you can see Kell run over and turn a cloak stand into a pair of wooden batons as he starts a fight with the northman known as Krombrak Frost-Axe, the other northmen however look at each other before simply sitting down opposite the rest of you and refill your drinks before they start to talk amongst themselves ignoring the fight going on. Atleast you don't have to worry about those three joining in the fight for the moment unless one of you does something to annoy them. Uthait then tells you that he has heard about the battle for Glacier Pass aswell before stating then usual tales and legands are build upon some truth but not all of it is true, you agree with Uthait as you have heard of other tales to do with the strength of Modeus which have yet to be proven true. After a few moments you then heard Uthait suggest that you and the others who do not want to get into a fight should move to a different table. Looking around you can see several seats at the High Lords table have become open and think you should gather Uthait and the Human Andaleth and go join the Dragon Lord at his table and perhaphs ask him to tell some tales?

Uthiat: After suggesting that you move you are joined by the human Andelath who has just been talking to the Dragon Lord, you wonder if you should ask Andaleth what exactly the High Lord had just done as he most of gotten a very good view of what was in the view of the scrying orb as he was only standing a few feet away. While looking around for somewhere new to sit you can see that the rest of the tables and benches are already full with dwarves and others of Modeus's apprentices save for three seats directly to the left of the High Lord after three dwarves had stood up and left the room. You wonder if it would be rude to simply get up and sit next to the High Lord without asking him first but if you could join Modeus at his table then you may be able to listen into what he is talking about and maybe ask him some more questions if he was in a good enough mood. While turning your attention back to the fight you can see that Kell was just about to be attacked by the Northman's dragon before both Kell's dragons, Typhon, and Bjor's dragon, Minerva, jumped off of the table and tackled into the larger dragon. While looking at the size differences you wonder exactly how quickly dragons grow as the recently hatched dragons are about 1/5th the size of a dragon which is said to be about four or five months old.

Avariss: As you fall asleep once again the dreams of greatness of being a dragon rider return, this time you are upon your great black dragon flying above a battlefield between the undead and the men of the south. From your vantage point upon your dragon you can see the humans have the upper hand but for every man that falls he is raised as a zombie for the opposite side. From your saddle you close your eyes and sense the presence of the nercomancers within the hordes of the undead and direct your great drake towards them while you conjour up the forces of Fel Magic to smite the necromancers. Again and again you find necromancers before burning them to ashes or boiling their blood and with each one killed the undead start to crumble or drop down 'lifeless' as the magic sustaining them is destroyed by you. As you continue to go about your work you can hear the humans chanting your name and cheering for you as you help them push back the undead. But as you continue to battle for good the Voice takes control of you and your drake forcing you to turn your spells upon the humans, with shouts and yells of surpise the men of the south go from near victory to near defeat as you sit there atop your dragon killing those you once called allies. No matter how hard you try to regain control of your body the Voice is stronger and in your mind you heard it laughing, just laughing as you are forced to watch yourself slaughter everyone on the battlefield.

Kell: As you jump towards Krombrak Frost-Axe a large grin appears on his face as he brings up his fist and connects it with your gut almost forcing all the food and ale you have eaten in the last hour to re-emerge from your mouth and go all over the keeps floor. Luckily you manage to hold it in and have no choice but to re-swallow it which in turn makes you want to throw it up again. As you land on your back for what seems the 20th time today you see the northman look around for a weapon before picking up the stood that the Grimskull was sitting on as he marches towards you, no matter how much you dislike your northen cousins they are so much stronger than the men of the south but luckily you are faster. Getting to your feet you have just enough time to use your makeshift batons to block the incoming swing of the stool which sends muscle numbing vibrations up your arm, what you wouldn't give for one of those magical weapons you hand earlier. As you jump back to put some distance between you and Krombrak you see the Grimskulls dragon also start to move towards you with its fangs bared, just as it gets ready to pounce on you a purple-grey projectile shoots out of nowhere along with a black object and slam into the larger dragon, as they roll around on the floor hissing and snarling at each other you can see that it is Typhon and Minerva, Bjor's dragon. It seems that your little dragon will come to your aid if you need it, something that will be helpful in the future but now is the time to concerntrate on fighting the northman infront of you.

Bjor: The Grimskull is knocked straight off of his stool from your unexpected upper cut and lands on his back before quickly surging to hsi feet with a raor of anger. His eyes red with fury he stares directly at you before quickly leaping from his side of the table and slams into you, tackling you to the floor before he proceeds to send his left fist into your jaw with as much force as you had hit him with the upper cut. Clearly this Grimskull could be a better fighter than what you have heard about the rest of his clan, but then again he has been here a few months longer and must of had some training from Modeus in how to fight. As both of you enter a beseker rage you are almost compeltely obivious of Kell coming to your aid by attacking Krombrak Frost-Axe with a broken cloak stand. Leaving your companions to any fights they get into you decide to concentrate on the Grimskull and attempt to get him off of you as at the moment he has the advantage of his weight behind his blows as he is above you and you are unable to fully pull back your arms for stronger punches.

Kalrond: After having arrived late at the large mountain keep of Modeus you were led to a room in which you had picked the dragon egg which would eventually become your dragon, you had decided to pick the 10th egg in the line of them which was covered in a green-ish moss as it reminded you of your homeland. After picking your egg you were shown to your room where you placed your belongings and were allowed to rest for an hour, once that hour was up you were lead to the main hall where all of the dwarves and other apprentices have gathered for the evening meal. Since then you have been sat to the right of King Grugnar of the Ironhammer dwarf clan and listened to his conversation with the High Lord about a new dwarven hold being constructed not far from this current keep location. While sitting there you feel very uncomfortable around the dwarves and other apprentices save for other few Wood Elves that Modeus asked to join him, but mainly you are uncomfortable about the fact you are inside of a mountain where no plants grow. While you sit there listening to the Dwarven King and High Lord talk you think back on what the High Lord said when you met him earlier about you will be joining a group of apprentices that had arrived a few hours before you in becoming a Dragon Rider. While looking around the room you wonder which of the apprentices you will be joining, and that maybe you should introduce yourself to some of them?


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor's mind was a haze of rage as the Grimskull tackled him to the floor and began to pummel his fists over and over again at any opening that Bjor gave him, luckily his father had taught him how to fight from all angles so he kept his fists up to protect his face. In a split second Bjor dodged one fist and caught it between his arm and chest, holding his assailant's arm steady as the other cracked him right in the face, yet Bjor was no mere northman berserker, he was a Hellwolf and they were known for fighting.

He took the hit before slamming his forehead straight into the Grimskull's nose, the crunch of bones making Bjor smile as he flipped the stunned berserker over his head before leaping to his feet and tackling him to the floor as he sought to get himself up. He headbutted the Grimskull again before flinging his fists into his face one right after the other as quickly as he could with as much power as possible, this whelp had dishonored him and his clan and he would make him pay for it. 

A fist flew up and slammed into the bottom of his jaw making him bite his cheek, yet Bjor returned the blow with one of his own straight at the Grimskull's cheekbone in an effort to knock him out.


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## Santaire

“We probably should move,” Extraxi agreed. He watched as Bjor and his opponent began hitting each other, driving their huge fists in punishing blows at each other. Kell leapt up and, snapping a coat stand in two made to use the halves as weapons. Extraxi shook his head in confusion. Even one of the north men was big enough to flatten Kell, indeed the southerner was lucky that only one moved to engage him.

Extraxi made to stand and go to aid Kell but did not for he wanted to watch how the southern man handled himself in a fight. The fight was not going Kell's way. Krombrak had punched him in the gut causing the southerner to double over in pain. Extraxi turned away and watched, faintly amused at the fact that the other northerners had merely returned to their drinking. ‘At least that meant they would not fight unprovoked’ thought Extraxi dryly. He refilled his own tankard of ale and turned to listen to Uthiat’s tales of the dragon lord. With his keen eyes he spotted a slightly nervous looking newcomer enter the feasting hall and take his place near the high table where Modeus and Grugnar sat talking.

“I believe that many tales of Modeus may be exaggerations but I was there for the battle of Black Glacier Pass and he did drive the enemy back, I suppose you are right to say that someone with enough power would be able to hold an army that size at bay but that should not make the victory bereft of glory,” Extraxi said before pointing over to the table where the newcomer sat.

“Shall we join him my friends…”


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## Midge913

A loud crack caught Andaleth's attention and he looked over to see Kell wielding a freshly broken cloak stand, twirling the two broken halves like batons. As Kell rushed at one of the large northmen, his clan unknown to Andaleth, Andaleth surveyed the rest of the scene and noticed that the rest of the Northmen had gone back to their drinks as though what was going on around them was perfectly normal. Kell seemed to be able to handle himself and seemed to be relishing the opportunity to blow of some steam. 

Secure in the knowledge that the fight between Bjor and the other Northman would remain between the two of them, Andaleth sat back down to his food and drink. As the small burst of adrenaline that had flooded into his system receded, Andelth's thoughts returned to what he had witnessed Lord Modeus do to Avariss with the scrying orb. He kept the fights in view, just in case things spilled over into the rest of them. 

He overheard Uthiat and Etraxi discussing what they knew of Lord Modeus' past, but Andaleth was more curious with the present. He was awestruck at the power that the Dragon Lord had at his command, but as he contemplated Modeus' abilities he came to wonder where modeus drew his power from. How had the he become so far above the rest of mankind? Was he not an elf like any other? Or had his partnership with the Great Drake changed him into something more? Whatsmore where had he collected those weapons Andaleth had seen his fellow apprentices using in the arena? Were those the forgings of Clan Ironhammer? If so he and his fellow apprentices must be sitting on a treasure trove of magical weapons and armor. Or had the Dragon Lord collected them from around the world during his travels and studies. Come to think of it, Andaleth mused, he had never seen the Modeus draw the sword he carried at his hip, not even during lessons. During his few sparring sessions with his master Modeus had always selected another blade, one of the common ones from the training rooms racks. 

Andaleth sighed. Always more questions. I thought that by coming to learn from the Dragon Lord he would learn more. but everything that had happened so far had only brought about more questions and queries. "Impatience," he muttered aloud to himself. 

Tuning back into the conversation going on at the table he caught the last of what Etraxi had been saying.“I believe that many tales of Modeus may be exaggerations but I was there for the battle of Black Glacier Pass and he did drive the enemy back, I suppose you are right to say that someone with enough power would be able to hold an army that size at bay but that should not make the victory bereft of glory,” Extraxi said before pointing over to the table where the newcomer sat.

Andaleth looked up to the high table where the Dark Elf had pointed and saw that a Wood Elf had joined the table. 

“Shall we join him my friends…” Etraxi asked.

"I don't see why not," Andaleth replied. "Joining him at the high table may allow us to hear some of the conversation between Modeus and Grungar as an added bonus."


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat stood and moved as the fight began. Extraxi moved to refill his ale as the fight went into full swing. When he returned the two continued their conversation. 
_
“I believe that many tales of Modeus may be exaggerations but I was there for the battle of Black Glacier Pass and he did drive the enemy back, I suppose you are right to say that someone with enough power would be able to hold an army that size at bay but that should not make the victory bereft of glory.”_ He looked over to where a newcomer sat. _“Shall we join him my friends…”

_
_"I don't see why not," _Andaleth spoke first_. "Joining him at the high table may allow us to hear some of the conversation between Modeus and Grungar as an added bonus."_
"I would think it shall be fine. And I would agree with our friend here it could be enlightening." As they began to move Uthiat glanced back to Extrax. "I never meant to say that it would reduce or remove the glory. In fact the thought that he has heard these stories and never corrected them makes it more interesting."

Behind them the high elf watched. His eyes darted from one man to another before halting on the dragons. Kell and Bjor's dragons had both faced off against another, his guess it was the other northman's. According to what Uthiat had heard it appeared that the larger one was approximately 5 months old, but the smaller ones appeared to be only around a fifth the size of the creature. Uthiat wondered what the growth on the dragons was. It appeared that the dragons might be able to fly within a year and in less than two they should be able to carry a rider. Perhaps it was a question best left to the dragon lord, or at least something he could learn from reading one of the many books.

As they moved close to the table Uthiat tried to gauge the movements and mood of Modeus to see if he needed to inquire about taking the seats.


----------



## Nightlord92

Kalrond drank deeply from his cup of wine, not willing to touch the foamy water downed beers the dwarves forced down their throats. Next to him the lord of the dwarves conversed with the First Rider, Modeus, about some new hold of the dwarves being built not far from this location. Personally, Kalrond could not have cared less. These keeps of the dwarves chilled Kalrond to the his bones; enclosed in solid cold walls and inside the earth. What Kalrond wouldn’t have gived for the fresh breeze of the wind or the smells of the Great Forest right now.

Around him, Kalrond could make out several groups of the other apprentices coming in: several of his cousin elves and humans along with dwarves. Save for the rare fellow wood elf he saw, Kalrond felt alone in a sea of outsiders. He had only felt calm once in this hole in the ground, when he was picking his dragon egg. From the instant he saw it, Kalrond felt the call of the forest in this dragon egg. Even when he rested in his room, Kalrond thought of the mossy egg over and over, eager to meet the dragon he would ride one day. 

Looking over at his fellow apprentices, Kalrond remembered the High Lord mentioning that he would be joining one of the groups of apprentice dragon riders. Examining each of the individual apprentices subtly, Kalrond hoped he would be paired with his cousin elvs, as he was already tired of the raucous voices of the dwarves and ramblings of the Men


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## revan4559

Andaleth: Getting up from the table with your two fellow apprentices you walk over to the High Lords table where there are three emprty places next to the nervous looking elf. After taking your seat you should introduce yourself to the apprentice and maybe try to get to know him. While you sit there drinking, eating and talking you can overhear the Dragon Lord and Dwarf King now talking about trouble approaching the realm of the Dark Elves and that there is likely to be another incursion from the Dark Lands and into the realm of the Dark Elves which is likely to have to force the Dragon Lord away from his apprentices for awhile as he goes to lead the Dark Elf armies in a battle against what ever comes out of the Dark lands. While listening to them talk about the lands of the Dark Elves your thoughts once again return to the Dragon Lord and who exactly he is as other than his legandard no-one knows anything about him...however maybe the Dwarf King would know as his clan does serve Lord Modeus and by the looks of things King Grugnar appears to be around 200 years old and Modeus has only had his dragon for 150 years meaning that the King must know something. You can perhaps ask the dwarf king when he isn't talking with Modeus or will you pluck up the courage to ask the Dragon Lord himself?

Extraxi: Getting up from the table with your two fellow apprentices you walk over to the High Lords table where there are three emprty places next to the nervous looking elf. After taking your seat you should introduce yourself to the apprentice and maybe try to get to know him. While you sit there drinking, eating and talking you can overhear the Dragon Lord and Dwarf King now talking about trouble approaching the realm of the Dark Elves and that there is likely to be another incursion from the Dark Lands and into the realm of the Dark Elves which is likely to have to force the Dragon Lord away from his apprentices for awhile as he goes to lead the Dark Elf armies in a battle against what ever comes out of the Dark lands. Being a Dark Elf yourself you may wish to try and get in onto the conversation between the Dragon Lord and Dwarf King and see if what they are talking about is true and if the apprentices will be taking part in helping the Dark Elves push back the armies of the Dark Lands. While thinking back on the dark elf homeland you wonder what exactly has happened in the major cities of the dark elves since you left to join modeus, a journey which has taken you three months to travel.

Uthiat: Getting up from the table with your two fellow apprentices you walk over to the High Lords table where there are three emprty places next to the nervous looking elf. After taking your seat you should introduce yourself to the apprentice and maybe try to get to know him. While you sit there drinking, eating and talking you can overhear the Dragon Lord and Dwarf King now talking about trouble approaching the realm of the Dark Elves and that there is likely to be another incursion from the Dark Lands and into the realm of the Dark Elves which is likely to have to force the Dragon Lord away from his apprentices for awhile as he goes to lead the Dark Elf armies in a battle against what ever comes out of the Dark lands. After having sat down you start to look around at all of the dragons inside of the hall including the giant form of Modeus's own dragon who is currently sat about 10 feet away behind you, but when you turn to look at him his head shift to look at you and a loud deep powerful voice that seems to demand respect enters your head and you swear you can see the dragons lower jaw work as if forming words. "Is there something you wish to ask little High Elf?" You assume that this voice is Modeus's own dragon that has now finally decided to talk to you.

Avariss: See previous update.

Kell: See previous update.

Bjor: Strangly the Grimskull takes your punch to your jaw literally head on and yet remains conciouss with a smile he stops punching you in the face and moves his hands to grab both of your wrists to stop you from being able to punch him. His grip is like being caught by a bear as he pushes you onto your back and gets to his feet yet you are able to get to your feet aswell. Turning away from you quickly the Grimskull picks up a stool and turns to face you again before raising it above his head with both hands and charges towards you, aiming to bring the stool down crashing onto your head. Luckily for you the way your opponent is holding his make-shift weapon has left his torso and face completely open to attack unless he has some trick up his sleeve. However your brain vaguely registers that if you tackle or punch him it will allow the Grimskull to hit you with his stool, just then through your rage you decide to pick up the nearest thing to you and to your surprise and joy it is another stool so you are able to match the Grimskull with your own weapon now.

Kalrond: Sitting in your seat and listening you are joined by two fellow elves and a dark skinned looking human who sit on the now empty chairs next to you. They each introduce themselves to you and whether you do the same to them is up to you, but whether or not you do you then start to hear the Dragon Lord and Dwarf King now talking about trouble approaching the realm of the Dark Elves and that there is likely to be another incursion from the Dark Lands and into the realm of the Dark Elves which is likely to have to force the Dragon Lord away from his apprentices for awhile as he goes to lead the Dark Elf armies in a battle against what ever comes out of the Dark lands. Whether you decide to ask the First Rider what exactly is going on is up to you as being from the great southern forest the only threat you have had to worry about is the Green Dragons, and you have only heard stories of the great battles that happen in the north which sometimes require the Wood Elves marching to war in aid of their northen allies the Humans or sometimes their cousins the High Elves.

Morrak: You are currently sat on one of the other tables within the great dwarven main hall with all the other apprentices and members of the Ironhammer clan as they have a feast now that all the other apprentices have arrived for the moment. Earlier on that week you had picked your dragon egg which is now currently sat in its incubation alcove back inside of your specially designed room where you hope within the next few days should hatch into your very own dragon. So far you have't had any lessons from the High Lord just yet as he has been waiting for more apprentices to arrive so he can train you all at the same time as previously the other apprentices were too far ahead in their training for you to join them as their eggs had already hatched. Looking around the hall you can see many of the smaller dragons playing, eating or sleeping but there is only one dragon in the room you are interested in and that is the Dragon Lord's own dragon, the giant beast that is sat behind him and king Grugnar observing all that is going on. Sat next to you is Aseer a human who is also an apprentice of the High Lord and one which will be part of the group you will be training with, currently you are discussing which of the apprentices in the hall you will be joining.

Aseer: Like a few other apprentices that day you had been late in coming to High Dragon Hold and there for were unable to take part in the basic test of fighting in the arena that is built within the mountain. But after having heard that the High Lord made those that were ontime fight a giant and a hydra you felt very lucky in that you were late. After having arrived you were taken to choose your dragon egg of those that remained after the others had picked them and when you had you felt a pulse of connection between yourself and the egg. After choosing your egg you were taken to your new room and were told to wait until the feast had been prepared. Once it had been you had been led to the great dwarven hall where the Ironhammer clan and the other apprentices were already gathering and eating along with their smaller dragons. Since you arrived you have become fast friends with a dwarven named Morrak who is currently sat next to you while you discuss which of the apprentice groups you will be joining. You then see a group of four apprentices sat at Lord Modeus's table and wonder if that is them, maybe you should get Morrak and go over and introduce yourself?


----------



## komanko

The ceiling began to blur as Avariss once again descended into the welcomed sleep. Yet his hopes of finding solace and peace in sleep were laughed upon by his own mind. Instead of the peaceful sleep he asked of himself he sunk into another dream.

Again the mighty scales flashed before his eyes, black as midnight they were, reflecting the sun beautifully and catching every detail of Avariss’s own face. He seemed calm, and peaceful. It appeared that he had come to terms with his fate and that embraced his future. The dragon dived towards the ground, his muscles flexed along with the scales. The beast itself was of monstrous size and of immeasurable strength. 

As the dragon dived down Avariss saw what was below him. It was once again a battlefield yet this time it was littered with dead and dying. A horde which consisted of the southern men stood at one side of the battlefield while only a couple dozen figures stood at the other. Yet an aura of strangeness and fear surrounded those figures, they were powerful and it could be felt even from Avariss’s vantage point.

The figures began chanting, waving their hands as in the rituals of old. As they did so the battlefield began coming back to life, the dying died and in a blink of an eye stood again. Race, skin or homeland did not matter to this army. It was an army of the dead and it slowly marched towards the men of the south. 

At first only a couple of figures appeared to be raising from their deathly slumber but as the chanting of the mages continued so did more came back to live. The slow army advanced, crushing and cleaving their way slowly through any resistance that they’ve found. They showed no mercy, they needed to respite and they felt no fear. Their only will and need was to obey and so they did.

The man of the south charged at the undead horde, they seemed to be having the upper hand yet every time one of the southerners died he quickly rose again this time to take up arms against his own brothers and friends. 

Avariss knew that he will not be able to stand out of the battle, he had to interfere. From his vantage point he picked out the targets which emitted the largest amount of energy, those targets were clearly the necromancers he was looking for. Before he muttered any words his dragon began descending towards those targets, a mind link connecting both of their minds to one.

Many of those vile fell that day. They were burned, their blood boiled. They were swallowed by his dragon or cleaved by his claws. Avariss and his dragon began taking control of that field of battle as for every necromancer that fell hundreds of the undead fell as well. He saw the necromancers beginning to break off their spells; he saw them beginning to flee for their lives when they saw their comrades die. He heard his name, chanted by his allies who stood now nearly victorious and cursed by his enemies who fled for their miserable life.

Yet as the chanting and cheering grew stronger he felt himself appalled and disgusted, he felt as he was aiding the wrong side. He knew that he had to crush those miserable and pathetic southerners. Those thoughts pierced his mind as he felt himself turning his dragon towards his old allies and beginning to descend upon them, cleaving and slaughtering them.

In panic and terror he looked at his own reflection, his eyes glowing in an eerie dark green colour, smoke coming out of his hands as his skin began to break and burn. A stench of indescribable proportions was emitted from newly created cracks in his own skin. As he watched this changes take shape he noticed his dragon twisting and changing as well, reverting to a more bestial and menacing form.

Like demons from the void the swept over the southerners, annihilating and destroying them. He heard himself laughing manically yet he knew that it was not he who laughed. He felt a tingle in his mind which quickly turned into a wave which pushed its way to the important parts of his brain. After a quick fight Avariss succumbed, he was tired from the earlier use of spells; he was powerless as he felt his old nemesis Voice grabbing control of him like a puppet master. His mind was volatile, vulnerable and weak. He should have known that Voice will use this opportunity yet he was not.

Avariss was helpless, his body paralyzed and out of reach, he could barely see as Voice shackled him into a deep corner of his own mind. He was forced to watch the horror which he was inflicting on his allies, he was forced to watch how thousands of men and women were drained out of their life’s essence, dropping on the ground like stones as all the warmth left their body. 

And all the while he saw the necromancer’s return, he saw them raising their dead again, he saw them helping him to destroy the soldiers he missed. He was disgusted by what he had done. He tried to fight back yet Voice was to strong, the daemons will become stronger by all the bloodshed and death he had caused.

In a dark and deep corner of Avariss’s mind he could not help but be amazed by the power of the necromancers, they were the ones who mastered the art of life and death. He heard them whisper in his ear, he heard them telling him that they could rid him of the daemon inside of him. When he heard those whispers he knew that he found an answer. In the magic of life, or death, there was an answer, there was a cure and he will find it…

OOC: dunno if its good or bad, but thats the best I could have come up with in 2:30 AM ^^ Hope you enjoyed.


----------



## Yru0

Aseer gazed at the egg that was sitting in front of his face. The smooth object seemed to vibrate almost, it was both the most beautiful and terrifying thing that Aseer had ever laid eyes on, and it was his. Gingerly, he picked up the object as if it were a cursed rune and tried to peer into the irritatingly opaque shell, trying to imagine the powerful beast that was turning around within, so small and weak in it's current state, yet destined to become a truly fearful force. 

Suddenly, the door burst open as a burly dwarf stormed into the room, stating plainly to Aseer that he was 'urged' to attend a feast for the new apprentices by the high lord. Aseer shuddered as he quickly put down the egg, after hearing what fate awaited the early arrivals, and the seeming glee with which the Lord sent them into battle with such deadly creatures caused him to doubt whether the invitation was truly a request, or in fact a demand that one would be ill disposed to refuse. With a gulp, and a silent prayer before meeting the Lord, Aseer steeled himself and stood up to follow the dwarf.

Contrary to his fears, Aseer did not find himself thrown into a dragon's den for the lord's entertainment, or forced to 'train' by facing off against a cruel beast of legend, rather, he was introduced to a much more different environment, but perhaps potentially more dangerous. Aseer narrowly avoided a chair hurled at the door by two brawling northmen, with their blood staining the carpet as the two seemingly mindless barbarians went on in their attempts to rip each other to ribbons in their bloodlust fueled rage. If this was not enough, Aseer saw young dragons 'playing' at the side, he had never seen so much of the deadly creatures in a single place before, and his instinctive reaction was to reach for his quiver, which he had left in the room, a mistake that he desperately wished to undo as sweat began to prickle his forhead. But Aseer was riveted to the spot as his eyes were inevetibly drawn to the gargantuan monster lurking behind the lord, the black dragon stared at the room, seemingly oblivious to all the activites of the apprentices, yet gazing at them with dark and wisened eyes, that could equally belong to a kind and generous village elder, or a hardened warboss who has pillaged and slaughtered innocents by the thousand, and relished the experience. However, by far the most imposing and unnerving figure in the room, was that of Mordeus himself, with an aura of control, command, and power seeming to resonate from the dark elf. Fear, awe, respect, jealousy, all of these emotions could be seen in the faces of the apprentices, Aseer didn't know what to think, he just didn't want to tick the man off.

Aseer took a seat at a table near the edge of the gathering, joining a lone dwarf whose unruly red features hinted at a man who couldn't care less about personal hygiene. Aseer smiled, finally his type of person. Soon enough the two had striken up a conversation, and Aseer could obviously see a conflict within the dwarf, a long held hatred for dragons, yet an awe and respect for the mighty winged beasts. Aseer himself had only fought a single dragon in his lifetime, and that was the one which nigh ripped off his head had Mordeus not arrived. The dwarf's talk of his people's kingdom intrigued Aseer, to imagine an entire people living underground and thriving in the face of odds, not to mention with such a diminuitive stature, was truly phenomenal. It was all so incredibly different to the wide open lands that Aseer truly felt at home in, whether it be the forests of his home where he hunted game with his friends, many of whom are now dead following the encounter with the beast, or the dry sands of the east where he often escorted caravans, and had once secretly hoped to discover something of his own, a foolish and childish dream he now knew, yet the hard desert life still seemed invigorating to him. 

The two apprentices continued on their lively conversation, more than once Morrak, the dwarf, rose his voice and slammed an almighty fist on the table when talking of his past exploits, and many times did Aseer burst into laughter after a recount of a particularly comedic event. The two entered into an almost immediate friendship, although the rest of the group still seemed alien to Aseer, and eventually he asked of his new found comrade, "Morrak, I feel as if we are missing out on the essence of this party! What say you if we join in on that group of apprentices over there near the lord? Hey, perhaps we could even make one of them smile for once!"


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## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

The days drag on unbearably slowly for Morrak as he waits for Lord Modeus to finally call him in to do something. At this point he doesn’t even care what it is, just to end this accursed boredom! He had even been taken off his regular duties since becoming an apprentice. The only consolidation was his egg. It looks so beautiful just sitting there, and already Morrak can hear his dragon thrashing around inside. Every time it becomes especially loud he rushes to it in hope it will hatch, but each time it only quiets down again.

The only thing that actually happened the whole week was when he was told to watch the other apprentices in the ring, and was told to throw in the weapons. He had fun with that, aiming as near to the apprentices as he could without actually hitting them, and without losing them to the beasts. He smiled as he came close to hitting them once or twice, and then it dawned on him that he would have to this sort of fighting. He looked in with fear, realizing that this was most likely his fate for the next couple of years. The fear grew in him rapidly until it was too much. As the hydra was defeated he begged Lord Modeus to be able to return to his room. The Lord laughed and sent him on his way. Morrak closed the door behind himself sweating, and was immediately ashamed of himself for running when he wasn’t even the one fighting!

He fell into a deep and troubled sleep, only to be awoken by one of his clan mates banging at the door. He grudgingly opened it, and was told he had to go to a feast for the apprentices. “I don’t envy you, friend” said the dwarf. “I’d much sooner take on a dragon on my own than go into that hellhole. Good luck to ya, I think youll need it”. “Thanks for the encouragement”, replied Morrak. He realized that the dwarf was right, and that he felt the same way. He gulped as he walked into the great hall. He was surprised at what he saw. It actually looked like fun! There was his favorite mead along with some good meat. He went there immediately and began to eat.

He was soon joined by a human named Aseer. They became instant friends, though he laughed at the primitive bow he Aseer was so proud of. “One day ill have to show you one of my cannons”, Morrak told him. “Sure they’re not as much fun as a good hammer, but they can pound ya pretty good”. Morrak began talking about his favorite battles, from his parents death up until his fight with a mountain troll a couple of weeks ago. He smiled inwardly at how interesting Aseer was, for a human. He never thought he could become friends with one of the tall folks, but at least he wasn’t an Elf.

They both grew slowly bored of the conversation, and Morrak gazed longingly at the other apprentices. He wanted to meet them, see how they compared to his new friend. Thankfully, Aseer noticed and said to him, "Morrak, I feel as if we are missing out on the essence of this party! What say you if we join in on that group of apprentices over there near the lord? Hey, perhaps we could even make one of them smile for once!" Morrak laughed and replied, “Of course, they could use some smiling every once and a while. You call the first joke though”. He smiled as the two of them walked over…


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## Midge913

Rising from the table with his companions, Andaleth felt the fact that he had been consuming quite a bit of ale as he had sat and spoke with Uthiat and Etraxi. It was a pleasant sensation as for the majority of his life he and not let his self restraint slip to the point of intoxication. This feeling of ease and comraderie was something that he definitely could get used to. He, Uthiat, and Etraxi made their way up to the high table and pushed their way through the crowd of apprentices to get to the empty seats. 

As he neared the table he saw that the latecomer was a wood elf of exceptional height, heavily tattoed with tribal designs, dark of hair and eye. He seemed to be very uncomfortable in this setting and Andaleth though that he should try and put the man at ease.

"Welcom friend," Andaleth said offering his hand in greeting. "We could not help but notice that you sat alone and tonight is a night of celebration." To punctuate the point Andaleth took a heavy draw from his mug before continuing, "I am Andaleth Veto and these are my compatriots Uthiat Alenaneldth and Etraxi Veho. I must say my friend that I have never seen one of the Woodland kind so tall as yourself, pray tell us your name and from where to you hale?"

As he waited for the elf to answer, Andaleth turned his attention back to the table where Modeus and Grungar still sat in intense conversation. Their conversation had shifted to news that Modeus had heard of troubles in the realms of the Dark Elves. He was saying that it appeared that the forces of the Dark Lands were planning another incursion and that Modeus surmised that the size of the force would pull him into the conflict. 

"Wouldn't that just be my luck," Andaleth mused. He had only just arrived and was ready to learn and now the Dragon Lord would be running off to fight the nightmare creatures of the Dark Lands, leaving his apprentices behind. 

The topic of the Dark Elf realms brought Andaleth's slightly fuzzy thoughts back around to Modeus himself. The legends and stories began to mix themselves up in his head and although he figured that he could ask Grungar, the Dwarf King, more about Modeus since he was sure that Grungar and Modeus had known each other for some time, he did not think that his current state was the most appropriate. He had already interrupted the Lord Modeus' conversation once and he didn't think that doing so again would be well received. 

So instead he snatched another plate of food and a replacement for his mostly empty ale from a passing servant and turned back to the conversation of his compainions.


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## Santaire

Extraxi nodded as Andaleth introduced him to the Wood Elf but then his head snapped sideways as he heard Modeus and the Dwarf King talking about a recent incursion into the lands of the Dark Elves. He heard them saying that Modeus would be leaving to fight. As a Dark Elf he was nervous that his homeland had been attacked, even though he had not thought much about his kin since he had left, nigh on 3 months ago. He made his excuses to the group and walked to Modeus, hoping that the apprentices would be joining him. Despite having fought his way, alone, to reach the mountain fortress he still had fond memories of his time in the company of other Dark Elves.

He cleared his throat and Modeus turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Will we, the apprentices I mean, be travelling to help drive back the enemy?" Extraxi asked...

(Sorry about the really short post but I am trying to stick to my own writing and couldn't think of anything to write)


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat walked slowly trying as best as he could to avoid running into the others in the hall. When it came to pressing past others it was difficult as he was not a muscular individual.

As they arrived Andaleth introduced them to the woodelf. As he spoke the names Uthiat smiled and gave a nod. As they sat Uthiat listened to Modeus. The Dragon Lord spoke of the dark elf lands, and his need to return. _"Wouldn't that just be my luck,"_ Andaleth said quietly. Uthiat glanced down into his mug. In his own mind he mirrored the comment. If Modeus left what would the apprentices do? They would be forced to train with the older ones, or read through books for knowledge. The second option appealed to him most.

The high elf looked around the room. Which of these people would take charge of the training? As Uthiat's eyes moved around the room another thought struck him. Would Modeus take them? Somehow after the day they had endured it seemed this could be an option. His eyes stopped at the form of the large dragon. Its head turned and looked at him. He could swear the mouth moved as a deep demanding voice entered his mind. _"Is there something you wish to ask little High Elf?" _"Oh my," Uthiat whispered. The mighty dragon had decided to speak. As the mage thought of a question a voice spoke from behind him.

_"Will we, the apprentices I mean, be traveling to help drive back the enemy?"_

"Well," Uthiat whispered, "I would have asked if we could sit here, but it appears a far greater question has been proposed."


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## Angel of Blood

Kell leapt forwards towards Krombrak, intending to strike at him with both batons at the same time. But then very suddenly he was experiencing the lately all to familiar feeling of landing hard on the floor. The northman had got the first blow in, driving a meaty fist Kells gut. Kell retched hard, his recently eaten food threating to remerge violently all over the floor. But he managed to keep hold of it and swallow it down, noting how it lacked any of the flavour it had before and making him want to retch again.

He looked between his legs to see Krombrak pick up one of the stools and begin to stalk towards him. "Well you don't waste time do you?" He coughed. He leapt to his feet and brought his batons up in a generic block as the northman swung the massive stool towards him. The batons took the brunt of the blow jarring both of his forearms. He took a few quick steps back to reassess the situation. The northman was clearly much stronger than he was, throwing the stool around as easily as he could swing his batons. Yet for all his strength, Kell was confident he was much faster. 

"Come on then, lets try again shall we?" He smirked at Krombrak, who merely started laughing in return as his dragon began to stalk towards Kell aswell. "Give me a break" Kell muttered to himself, completely unexpecting that his silent prayer would be answered that very moment as two purple and black objects crashed into the dragon. It took Kell a moment to realise it was actually Typhon along with Bjors dragon that had intervened. "Bout damn time you started attacking something other than me!" He laughed.

"So back to just me and you then" He laughed at Krombrak before luanching himself forwards once again. Krombrak once again swung his fist out along with the stool towards Kell. But Kell had learnt well from last time and at the last moment dived to the ground and rolled past Krombraks side, swiping out with one baton at the same time to try and take the northmans leg out from under him. He roared out in pain and his leg buckled, but he managed to stay on his feet. Kell didn't give him the chance to recover, spinning around to crack one of the batons against his arm to make him drop the stool. 

He looked over to the tustling dragons. The northmans dragon was much bigger than Typhon and Minerva, but it couldn't deal with both of them at the same time. He smiled at the sight, feeling the first true connection with his dragon.


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## revan4559

Andaleth: After introducing himself the Wood Elf goes back to being silent and listening to the conversation between Lord Modeus and King Grugnar, in which you are able to hear his answer about all the apprentices being left behind as none of you are ready to fight the evil that is coming out of the dark lands. How you feel about being left behind? You also wonder how you will lead about dragons if the Dragon Lord is gone, will you learn from the older apprentices? or maybe even King Grugnar knows enough about the dragons to train you? While you sit there thinking you are joined by a Dwarf and Human from another table who both appear to be apprentices aswell. You remember seeing the dwarf several times since you got here but wonder which group of apprentices he belongs to, and as for the human who appears to be from the northen parts of the Human Kingdom you can't seem to recall him entering the keep and assume that like the Dark Elf Extraxi he was late arriving and will be joining you and your new friends in your apprentice group. You decide to introduce yourself and find out who they are, how long they have been here and what group of apprentices they belong to.

Extraxi: Modeus looked at you as you asked your question and frowned before leaning back in his chair and sighing. "None of you, my apprentices, will be joining me should i be called away to fight against the dark lands. None of you are ready to face what horrors come from there as if you remember earlier today you thought two creatures that come from that dark place and barely managed to defeat them even with he magical weapons i gave you. Now remember how hard it was to defear the hydra, and then the giant. They were just one of their kind now imagine trying to take on several dozen, if not hundreds of them without any magical weapons or even your dragons. In short my answer is no, you will not be coming with me as your dragons are too young and none of you are ready. Do you have any other questions?" What you make of the Dragon Lords answer is up to you, how do you feel about being left behind with the other apprentices while the high lord goes off to defend your homeland? What will you say to the other apprentices about being left behind? And you start to wonder how you will learn about dragons if the High Lord isn't here.

Uthiat: Modeus's Large black dragon nods his head in the direction of Modeus and it is then that you hear his answer that none of the apprentices will be traveling with him to the Dark Elf homeland to push back the forces of the dark lands. This makes you slightly sad as you had only just got here and not is it very likely that your new master will have to leave without teaching you a thing about dragons. Returning your attention back to Modeus's own dragon you notice that it has turned its head away from you and is now staring into the fire, now that Modeus is in a slightly annoyed mood due to all the constant questions and interuptions you get the idea that maybe you should take your questions about dragons to Modeus's dragon. Who better to teach you about dragons then one of the dragons themselves? And it is said that Zar'Tharon is atleast one-hundred and fifty years old making him quite young for a dragon but old enough to likely answer all of the questions you have so far about him and his species.

Avariss: You are swiftly brought back into the waking world after yet another nightmare about the corruption that will eventually take ahold of your body and mind. As you stare at the ceiling you can feel something rather heavy on your chest which is making it slightly difficult to breath yet you do notice that everything is slightly blurry and doubled which your foggy mind registers as the side affect of drinking too much dwarven ale. Slowly pushings yourself onto your elblows you tilt your head forward to find out what exactly is on your chest, forcing your eyes to focus as much as they can you are confronted by the following side. A two foot lizard of black-grey colour and matching wings is sat there staring at you with deep green eyes, what is strange is that as it moves its head closer each of your eyes is filled with the vision of creatures head, which you place down to the drink once again but what is then strange is that the 'right' head turns to look at the left head before speaking. "He appears to not be looking so well, what do you think we should do with him?" Your drink addeled mind finally registers what is going on, your dragon has hatched and is now sat on your chest talking to itself.

Kell: Your baton forces Krombrak to drop the stool as he lets out a shout of pain but as you look over at the dragons you feel two huge arms wrap around your bicepts and chest stopping you from moving your arms, you realize it is Krombrak who now as you in a bear hug and is now starting to squeeze his arms together which puts pressure on your ribs. Due to the pressure on your ribs you find it increasingly harder to breath but luckily you decide to flick your head back and hit Krombrak in the nose with the back of your head, however as you head butt him your eyes go blurry due to the hardness of the Northmans skull. As Krombrak staggers backwards holding his now bleeding nose his face takes on a slightly red colour and his eyes go blood shot like Bjor as he goes into a beserker rage, Krombrak then charges forward towards you with his arms outstreched in an attempt to tackle you onto the ground. Now would be the time to come up with some plan to stay out of his reach and figure out a way to knock him out without causing to much damage to him as you guess Modeus wouldn't be happy if you did.

Bjor: See previous update.

Kalrond: See previous update.

Morrak and Aseer: Both of you head over to the group of apprentices that are now sat at the table with King Grugnar and Lord Modeus, one of them appears to now be in conversation with the High Lord and as you get closer you hear his question to the dragon master which is then followed by the dragon lords reply about none of the apprentices going with him to the land of the dark elves to fight against the creatures and armies of the dark lands. What do you think about this? You have heard stories of the evil from the dark lands and that each battle costs the dark elves dearly but now there is Modeus the Dragon Rider that the battles have been fought and won with less casualties each time. What do you think about being taught by such a legandary figure? As you finally reach the table you can see a Wood Elf, Human from the southern part of the human kingdom, Dark Elf and a High Elf. You should introduce yourself(assume Andaleth introduces himself first) and then try to find out more about your fellow apprentices as it is likely that eventually you may go into battle with them against the forces of the Dark Lands when your dragons are finally big enough.


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## Midge913

"I am Kalrond Corlandril," was all the Wood Elf said before he lapsed back into silence. He was obviously listening intently to the conversation between Modeus and Grungar. Andaleth really couldn't blame him as he Heard Etraxi ask if the apprentices would be joining Modeus in his journey to assist the Dark Elves, and found himself disappointed when he hear his master answer,"None of you, my apprentices, will be joining me should i be called away to fight against the dark lands. None of you are ready to face what horrors come from there as if you remember earlier today you thought two creatures that come from that dark place and barely managed to defeat them even with he magical weapons i gave you. Now remember how hard it was to defeat the hydra, and then the giant. They were just one of their kind now imagine trying to take on several dozen, if not hundreds of them without any magical weapons or even your dragons. In short my answer is no, you will not be coming with me as your dragons are too young and none of you are ready. Do you have any other questions?"

Although he was disappointed Andaleth had enough sense to see the wisdom in his masters words. None of the apprentices where ready to deal with the horrors of the Shadow Lands, especially since their dragons were so young, or, as Andaleth noted bitterly, not yet hatched. He wondered though who would teach them while Modeus was away. Perhaps some of the older apprentices, Andaleth hoped not. Perhaps King Grungar and his Dwarves would be instructing them. Andaleth supposed this was possible. He imagined that combat training would obviously be a part of their instruction, and who better to teach that than the stalwart dwarven warriors that filled the hall. 

His musings were interrupted as two new individuals approached the table where he and his companions sat. The first a dwarf. Andaleth recognized his face from seeing him around the keep over the last several days, but did not know whether he was an apprentice or just a friend of the human Andaleth had never seen before. He surmised that like Etraxi he must have arrived late to the keep and would more than likely be joining Andaleth's group. As they drew closer he waved them over and when they were near enough the hear he called, "Come friends! Join us there is plenty of room. I am Andaleth Veto," he said extending his hand in greeting. "Who might you be?"


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## Yru0

Morrak and Aseer walked towards the group of apprentices crowding around Modeus, trying to get an ear, yet desperately, at least subconsciously, trying not to intimidate the powerful lord. Then, the human turned and noticed the duo appraching the group and bellowed a greeting "Come friends! Join us there is plenty of room. I am Andaleth Veto,". Aseer smiled to himself and joked to Morrak "See, even the sight of my mighty self and such a noble dwarf has brought smiles to their faces!" However, the name rang a bell to Aseer, he could've sworn that he had heard of the man before somewhere. 

"The day's Greetings to you too! I am Aseer, from the north-lands, where do you hail from sir?" queried Aseer, but before the Human had a chance to answer, the name clicked in his head. "I say! I *knew* I'd heard of you before! You're Andaleth the Coward! At least, that's what every greedy sod you rightfully stole from called you! Hah! I remember the look on Lord Palneus' face when he opened the drawer and found his prized trophies GONE!" Aseer broke down into almost hysterical laughter recalling the event that had turned into a common village joke in the North, "After that you vanished! Gone off to be a dragon rider I see?"

Aseer slapped Morrak on the back, his glee apparent on his face, partly from meeting another human for company, but also one whom was a minor celebraty amongst the needy, and a major thorn in the irritating slobs who too often ruled the masses. "Morrak my friend, I may go so far as to call this man here my equal...well close at least, but a man who you would most definitely not want to oppose!" It was only then that Aseer chuckled to himself, _that dwarven ale does go straight to the head, I have to ask Morrak if he knows how to brew a few of them!_ However, the news of Modeus' upcoming absense troubled him, and he decided to address the whole group around him, making sure to exclude the Lord himself however, "Being left here as reserves I see?", Aseer glanced over at the two brawls that were developing in the room, "Well training looks like it's going to be fun."

OOC: Sorry if I god-modded at all, I can make edits if requested.


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## Santaire

Extraxi walked back to his new friends with a sour taste in his mouth. He hated the way Modeus had dismissed him even though the logical part of his mind told him that it was for the best. This part of his mind explained that Modeus wasw right and that they probably would not stand a chance but that part was drowned out by his bitterness. He was being forbidden to fight for his home land and there was nothing he could do about it.

He slid his chair back from the table and heard someone say "well training looks like it's going to be fun." He grunted at that before introducing himself to the two people who had joined them. "Extraxi Veho," he said calmly, not letting his disapointment at not being allowed to fight for his home show on his face.


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Hearing Modeus's reply was rather disheartening. Uthiat had only just arrived only to have the Dragon Lord leave. Now what would happen? Would they be simply told to train with the others? Would they be left with orders to complete on their own? In truth the prospects didn't appear inviting to him. Still maybe the high elf could learn something before the dark elf left.

Leaving his ale behind Uthiat moved toward the dragons. "With as upset as your partner, I guess that would be as good a word as any, is becoming I would not presume to interrupt again. Perhaps you my friend could answer a few questions." The dragon glanced toward the high elf. "_Ask little high elf_," it responded before looking at the flames again.

"I have noticed that some of the others who arrived with me have their eggs hatched. Is there any reason the others have not? Once hatched how quickly do dragons grow? Is the bonding process with dragons much like that of avians and is best started as soon as the egg hatches? Does the speech bond that you and the others use work both ways or are you 'projecting' only into my mind? Is there any specific diet that is needed for you kind?" The questions were asked rather quickly but with pauses between them as not to overwhelm. Then Uthiat glanced around again. "I do believe I have been rather rude," he said, "My name is Uthiat. Would you like me to get you anything?"


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor had to admit, the Grimskull was much tougher than he remembered them being, his training with Modeus obviously helping him greatly. The fool grabbed the nearest stool and ran at him at full speed attempting to use it as a weapon, Bjor reached out and grabbed the nearest thing he could touch, his hand shooting back when he realized it was a female elf's breast. As if right on cue the stool cracked right into the stunned side of his face and he fell face first right into her lap and smiled as he got up getting hit in the face again as he tried to apologize.

He roared in anger and tore the nearest stool off the floor just in time to block the Grimskull's next swing. They shuffled around in a circle trying to get a good bead on each other, the Grimskull now standing with the female elf behind him. He ducked in close and sent a violent uppercut straight into the bottom of the warrior's face knocking him back a few feet before charging again, he threw his stool right at the Grimskull's head in the hopes of forcing him to block it with his own and therefore allow Bjor to tackle him as hard as he could right into the table where that elf was sitting.


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## komanko

His consciousness smashed back into the boundaries of reality, he awoke his head pounding in pain. He was disoriented and weak, pathetic some might say… He coughed and soon the cough turned into vomit as he spew the rest of the alcoholic beverage on the floor of his room along with his earlier meal.

He felt better now and as he blinked his sight began to balance and the “fog” from his eyes cleared out. He was looking at the ceiling; it was made of stone probably the mountain’s stone. He shut his eyes tight and thought though he had no idea on what he was trying to think. Bits of the dream quickly came to his mind, he sighed, and it was yet again a dream about the corruption that will take hold of him.

He felt the need to curse and swear; again rage began consuming him as he was confronted with the facts and with what he will become. He felt self loathing and disgust as he remembered his actions and appearance in the dream. He felt the need to smash something to destroy the whole room if possible yet at the same time something in his mind told him that if he acted like that he will only help voice take control more easily.

He exhaled all the air in his lungs and held out without air for several seconds while trying to calm down; he then slowly began inhaling and then he suddenly noticed that it is difficult for him to inhale, something was blocking the passage to his lungs yet he still managed to control his breath.

He moved his head downwards towards his chest yet at the moment he did that a wave of dizziness and blurriness engulfed his sight again and he turned to vomit yet nothing came out, he had nothing to release. Moving his head back to the previous position he again slowly began lowering his head towards the chest to discover what is making it hard for him to breath.

Avariss looked at the blurry figure who sat onto of him; it was relatively small, definitely not a human or some kind of humanoid. He managed to register a forked tongue, this meant that the thing on top of him was either a lizard or a snake and because of its relatively large size for a snake Avariss decided that it’s a lizard of sort.

He tried focusing on the blurry figure his eyes barely making out the colour of its scales. They were black – grey or was it dark green and brown, Avariss could not tell in his current state of mind. He let out a burp, the stench of alcohol coming out of his mouth and making the lizard move back a bit in surprise. As he scoured the figure Avariss managed to make out a set of wings. Blinking again several times Avariss looked at where the head of the lizard should have been, focusing on it caused a wave of nausea to pass in his body yet he did manage to notice four, no… two or was it four, he could not tell, dark emerald eyes. Those eyes glowed as they stared at Avariss back.

He grabbed his head as a wave of dizziness washed, he was seeing double… To him it seemed that the lizard in front of him was two headed. A thought than came to his mind that maybe this is all part of the previous dream. Avariss’s eyes opened wide in amazement as one of the heads turned towards the other and began speaking; there was indeed something fishy going on – “*Damn dwarven beverages.*” Avariss muttered angrily. 

Turning his head to the side he saw what was left of the dragon’s egg, he looked at it dumbly, with an idiotic smile until it finally hit him. His head turned in unremarkable speed towards the lizard which sat on top of him, his eyes focused and he now saw the thing that was there. A dragon, a real breathing dragon and it was his… “*Or maybe it is not a dragon?*” Avariss wondered as he looked at the two headed monster.

The right head spoke to the left one asking what they should do with Avariss. Oh no, Avariss will not let the dragon control him like Voice tries to do. His eyes narrowed as he grabbed the dragon by its leg and pulled it closer, he inspected it closely and noticed all the little details he missed earlier. Some sort of slime was still hanging from several places on the dragon and along with that dents between the scales could be seen. The scales themselves glimmered and reflected the dim light in the room in a perfect manner.

Seeing that his inspection went well Avariss put a hand around the dragon’s chest and lowered it down from his ribcage. “*The real question here you little mongrel is what am I going to do with you*?” He said pointing at the dragon. “*And while I think of that you go and get yourself something to eat, if I am not mistaken there is some mammoth stew in the big bowl and if there is not any stew there you might want to check the cauldron.*” The dragon remained silent on the floor… Avariss was never the commanding type. 

Pushing himself up he walked towards the cauldron and put a generous amount of food into one of the plates, he then took another plate and put the same amount in it. After that he took a third plate and put half that amount in it and laid it on the bed. The two remaining plates he put in front of the dragon, “*Eat… Dragon*.” Saying that Avariss took his plate from the bed and began eating, it would do him good after he vomited all he ate.

After that he knew that he will have to get something to clean the vomit with… He did not want the smell to say in the room after all. An alarming thought came to Avariss’s mind about the dragon’s digestive regularities yet he quickly dismissed it an hoped that it won’t come to that.


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## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

As they walked over Morrak couldn’t help but notice how many dragons were around him. It was amazing! There were dragons of all shapes and colors, as well as riders from everywhere in the realm. There were elves of all kinds, humans from both north and south, and even dwarves like himself. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed all that when he first came in.

As the two of them tried to get an ear in to the conversation, a Human noticed them and said “Come Friends! Join us there is plenty of room. I am Andaleth Veto”. Aseer turned and said, “See, even the sight of my mighty self and such a noble dwarf has brought smiles to their faces!” Morrak laughed and replied “Noble? Who are you talking about? Anyway friend, My name is Morrak Aerg, from the the fallen stronghold Guldukr”.

"The day's Greetings to you too! I am Aseer, from the north-lands, where do you hail from sir?" queried Aseer, but before Andaleth could even answer Morraks friend continued "I say! I knew I'd heard of you before! You're Andaleth the Coward! At least, that's what every greedy sod you rightfully stole from called you! Hah! I remember the look on Lord Palneus' face when he opened the drawer and found his prized trophies GONE!" Morrak laughed hard at this, but Aseer laughed even harder. "After that you vanished! Gone off to be a dragon rider I see?"

"Morrak my friend, I may go so far as to call this man here my equal...well close at least, but a man who you would most definitely not want to oppose!" “To be equal to you he must be mighty indeed”. Morrak almost laughed aloud at the look on Aseer’s face, but knew better than to mention when someone had drunk too much. He head Aseer say, “Being left here as reserves I see? Well, training looks like its going to be fun”. “Indeed,” replied Morrak. “although, if that’s the best they can do with this ale perhaps Id best teach them how its done”…


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## Angel of Blood

Kells gaze lingered on the dragons for too long and paid the price. He felt Krombraks vast arms wrap around his torso stopping him from moving with his superior strength, and then he began to squeeze. Kell could feel all the air being forced out of his lungs as his chest was compressed, he could also feel the pressure growing on his ribs and knew that if he didn't get out of the bear hug he would likely pass out and break a few ribs. With a slight hint of reservation Kell knew what he had to do.

He flung his head backwards and crashed his skull against the northmans face, feeling a satisfying crack as he did, along with a not so satisfying feeling as his vision blured and sharp burst of pain lanced through his head. But it worked, Krombrak let go of him and stumbled backwards howling in rage. Kell took a few weary steps blinking furiously to clear his vision. When his vision did clear, he wasn't exactly ecstatic about what he saw. Krombraks eyes had become angrily bloodshot, much like Bjors when he went into a beserker rage, then he began to charge towards Kell. "Give me a break" Kell muttered.

He had to do something drastic. He couldn't take on a northman beserker without his weapons and couldn't afford to hurt him too much without risking some form of punishment from Modeus, unfortunaetly Krombrak probably wasn't thinking so clearly. Suddenly a thought came to him. "Sorry about this everyone" He whispered. Turning around he vaulted the table immediately behind him, bumping into some of his fellow apprentices as he did "Excuse me!" he called over his shoulder, he then sprung over the next table and the next before turning around to see Krombrak charging after him, uncaring for those in his way.


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## revan4559

Andaleth: You hear the man called Aseer infront of you tell you that he knows of you atleast from your jobs when you used to steal for a living and that he knew Lord Palneus when you stole his trophies away from him. If you decide to say anything about that then it is your choice, however Aseer then remarks that it appears you left your life of stealing behind to become a dragon rider, perhaps you could tell the man named Aseer and his dwarven friend along with the apprentices around you how you came to become one of Modeus's apprentices and ask how each of them was chosen to become an apprentice aswell, as so far you haven't worked out how all of you have been worthy to become one of the legendary Dragon Lord's apprentices. You then start to think on your life and if there was anything important other than your magical abilities that would make Modeus want to take you as an apprentice, the only reasons other then that you can think of is your ability to steal and your run in with a dragon egg.

Extraxi: After introducing yourself you hear that the man named Aseer apprently knows or has heard of Andaleth and that he apparently has a reputation of being a thief, this makes you feel slightly wary of Andaleth now as you don't know if he may or may not steal from you or the other apprentices though even after this revelation about what Andaleth used to do you come to the conclusion that what ever he has done to become one of the Dragon Lord's apprentices clearly overshadows his life of theivery. While sitting there you continue to have some more food and dwarven ale while listening to the others however the way that you and the other dark elf apprentices will be forced to stay within this keep while Modeus goes off to fight in defense of your homeland makes you wonder if Lord Modeus will allow you and the other apprentices to help fight against the forces of the darklands throughout your apprenticeship or if you will be forced to continually practice within the keep with no real fighting experience for the next ten years which is apparently how long this apprenticeship will last.

Uthiat: Modeus's large black dragon shifts its gaze to look back at you before its voice starts to echo in your mind once again. "I have already eaten little elf so i do not require anything from you. As for your questions: The hatching of dragons from within their eggs happens when they have been incubated long enough and when ever the dragon decides it is ready, the average is between 5-6 months. As for the speed of out growth, within two years of hatching a Dragon will be large enough for an elf to ride so we grow very quickly and we continue to grow throughout our lives. Though once we reach a few thousand years old the aging process slows down to a merely crawl but by then we are truely massive. The bonding process between rider and dragon is nothing compared to that of other creatures, it is a mutal understanding and bond that we share as we grow. We see each other as equals, nothing more and nothing less. As to our 'speech', us Dragons instinctively know how to translate the languages of mortals and speak it directly into their minds and you are unable to do the same as our own language is far to complicated for mortal vocal cords. However we are able to speak properly given time to learn the language. Is there anything else you require to know elf?"

Avariss: The little dragon which you have now placed on the floor turns both of its heads to look at itself before turning around and walking over to the bowl which has the remainder of the mammoth stew before both heads start to devour what is left of it before calmly sitting down on the table and observing you, though one of the heads appears to have narrowed its eyes as if it was thinking of someway to inflict some pain upon you. Walking around the room you can find some cleaning cloths along with a pot which you can put water in, yet there is no water within the room but your mind vaguely remembers a closed door which you have yet to open and explode. Moving over to the closed door you notice that it isn't lock and should you decide to walk inside you can see another room almost as large as the one you were previously in and appears to be a bathroom of sorts. Looking around it you can see that there is a tin bath to allow you to bath which is placed within its own little heating alcove which when you get closer to it can feel that it is magically heated to keep the water within at a constant warm temperature, atleast now you have some hot water to clean yourself and your clothes with.

Kell: As you keep volting over tables to escape Krombrak who is chasing you all over the great hall you do not notice the purple-grey form of Typhon come flying out of left side of your vision and slams straight into side of your face with all of his force making you over-balance and fall straight onto the floor, once again it appears your dragon has decided that you are its favoured target for its sneak attacks instead of attacking Krombrak or the other Northman's dragon. But before you can shout at Typhon he has already charged off away from you and launched himself straight into the face of Krombrak knocking the short but muscled Northman onto his back before jumping off and away from him, the last thing you see of Typhon is his purple-grey form disappearing under a table surronded by wood and high elf apprentices who appear just to ignore the little dragon now underneith their table. As Krombrak forces himself up he shakes his head and looks at you as the rage disappears from his eyes, slamming his right fist over his heart he salutes you before walking off back to drink with the other northmen still at the table. Looking around you notice that you have landed infront of the table were your new friends (the other apprentices) are currently sat at.

Bjor: The Grimskull batters away the stool that you had thrown with his own before he discards the stool now that you do not have a weapon just as you tackle him off of his feet and onto the table. The apprentices around the table scatter and move out of the way with most of them shouting curses at you and the northman you are fighting for ruining their food and spilling their wine. As you and the other northman continue to brawl on the table trading powerful blows to each others faces and chests you feel even muscular arms wrap around yours as you swing out to hit the Grimskull and before you know it both of you have been pulled apart by four dwarves(2 holding back Bjor, 2 holding back the grimskull), it appears that the High Lord and King Grugnar have had enough of your fighting now that it has started to move around the hall and interupt the meals of the other apprentices and dwarves. Strangely you are unable to pull your arms out of the vice like grips of the dwarven warriors who are far more muscled than you and remain holding onto your arms until the beserker rage that has taken ahold of you has disappeared allowing you to see the carnage you and the other northman have made by smashing stools, plates, wine glasses and even a table. What you do now is up to you, do you ask for the dwarves to release you or try to struggle free?

Morrak and Aseer: After introducing yourselves to the apprentices now sat at the table with the high lord the one who appears to be a High Elf gets up and walks over to Modeus's own dragon and now appears to be in conversation with the mighty creature leaving you two to talk to the man named Andaleth and the Dark Elf named Extraxi though you hear a noise behind you which when you look around to see what it was you can see a man from the northen part of the kingdom of men slowly pushimg himself up, if you decide to help him that is your choice but you could also ask him what he was doing on the floor as it doesn't appear to be very drunk. After turning your attention back to look at your new aqqaintences you look to see that three other chairs have been vacated allowing you to sit down with the other apprentices and talk to them. What you are both wondering is what makes all those who have been chosen to become Lord Modeus's apprentice so special as other than those that know magic none of you really have anything special that you know of, save for your own experience of surviving a confrontation with dragons.


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## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

(ooc sorry its almost all text)

“Well, I think we should be gettin’ to know each other. After all, how can I trust someone I don’t know? And Im sure well be needin’ to be trustin’ each other before long. Modeus’ll make sure of that. I think ill start. As I said my name’s Morrak Aerg of Gildukr, a fallen dwarven stronghold in the mountains. I was trained with me dads old hammer since I was a young lad, whenever he wasn’t using it to bash in some beast or another. He carried it with him during battle, and said it would be mine when I was older. We got along fine, with him guardin’ the tower from those golden fiends, and I preparin’ to do the same. Then, one day a big one of them attacked, and there was nothin’ we could do to stop him. He was a hundred feet tall, with claws as sharp as swords. His breath was able to burn straight thru a tower like the one we’re in. My dad was on top o’ that tower, and he was the first to fall. Luckily he sounded the alarm in time to repel the beast, but he and that whole side o’ the keep burned to the ground.

“Me and some o’ me friends tried to stop the beast, but we were destroyed by that beast. He hit us with his fire as we were running in, and most of us died then. I was one of the lucky ones, with bad burns covering me whole body. The guard eventually knocked the beast back, and our hosts the Ironhammers took in the survivors, as few as we were. They evacuated us and saved most of us, but not me family. They were hit by that dragons fire as they ran, and they didn’t stand a chance. I found me dads smoldered body in the remains of the tower, and his hammer was somehow intact. I took it up and swore vengeance on all the golden fiends in the mountain.

“Since then I’ve been fightin’ for the Ironhammers and I killed many a beast for ‘em. I was tendin’ one o’ the eggs for some o’ the older apprentices, and I had an overwhelming desire to hatch one o’ the eggs myself. So, I asked Modeus if I could, and luckily for me he did”. Morrak looked around at the stunned faces as he finished his tale, only Aseer being unsurprised. Although a little shocked, never having heard it in that much detail, he at least knew it had happened. “What about you?” Morrak asked them. “How’d an Elf like yerself find yer way here, Extraxi? And you, Aseer. I told you a lot about me, but I don’t recall you tellin’ me much back. And of course Andaleth, detail is much obliged”.


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## Midge913

"The day's Greetings to you too! I am Aseer, from the north-lands, where do you hail from sir?" Aseer asked him. Andaleth was about to answer when it appeared that Aseer had just remembered something. "I say! I knew I'd heard of you before! You're Andaleth the Coward! At least, that's what every greedy sod you rightfully stole from called you! Hah! I remember the look on Lord Palneus' face when he opened the drawer and found his prized trophies GONE After that you vanished! Gone off to be a dragon rider I see?" Aseer began to laugh heartily and Andaleth couldn't help but smile as he remembered the incident well....

Standing in Lord Palneus' study, Andaleth was amazed that the man, who fancied his treasures so vainly, hadn't bothered to hire better guards. All it took was a well placed bribe and he had been allowed entry into the Lords keep through a servants entrance. From there it was solely a matter of staying out of sight, something that he was very good at. Not that he needed to be however, every soldier that he passed was staggering slighty and from the shadows Andaleth could smell the sour reek of sweat and booze. Further down the hallway from where he stood he could still hear the riotous singing of the men in the guards room. All playing cards and drinking themselves into oblivion. 

That thought brought a sneer to Andaleth's face, for he knew that for sometime the coffers of House Palneus had been bare. Ever since the the death of his father, Lord Palneus, and Andaleth felt disgust at conferring that title to the greedy tyrant that now ran the house, Paleus had done nothing but squander his riches on booze, women, and ill advised business investments. To recoup his losses he taxed the already overdrawn people of his lands to the point of poverty and more often than not had his tax collectors, more hired thugs and theives than the occupation which they professed, steal him the best pieces for himself. Hence, why Andaleth was standing here reclaiming them for their right full owners. 

Slipping back to the back of the room, Andaleth knelt behind the massive, and no doubt expensive, mahogany desk, took his pick set from his pocket and in a manner of seconds had the lock opened. Carefully opening the drawer, he smiled as he saw the trip line leading further back into the desk. Greedy, but not stupid then. Taking a small set of clippers from his tool kit, Andaleth snipped the line holding the tension on the part of the line that disappeared from view. One could never know what nasty suprises foolish men had in store for those that would try and part them from their possessions, but as far as jobs went, Andaleth felt as though this one was a vacation. Tying a small loop in the end of the line, he took a small nail, again from his kit, and pressed it firmly into the wood on the underside of the desk top inside the drawer, and looped the line around it. Pleased with his handy work, he double checked the drawer for other traps and alarms, and finding none opened it the rest of the way. Inside he found several of sacks and small boxes and after veryfing the contents of each one, carefully placed them all in his bag. He was standing to leave when he heard a loud noise at the door and seconds later it exploded inward, noise and light filling the room. 

Disappearing into the shadows behind the desk Andaleth watched as none other than Lord Palneus himself stumbled into the room, heavy with drink, and dragging a giggling serving girl along with him. Andaleth couldn't help but chuckle as the two drunkenly groped each other, completely oblivious to his presence. Sliding around the side of the room, silent as death itself, Andaleth made the open window, and quick as a flash was swinging down to a balcony beneath the room, then to the courtyard itself. Highly amused by the fact that he had completed his job under the Lord's nose, quite literally, Andaleth slipped out the servant's gate and off into the night. 

Coming back from his reveree, Andaleth heard Aseer continue, a genuine smile upon his face,"Morrak my friend, I may go so far as to call this man here my equal...well close at least, but a man who you would most definitely not want to oppose!" As he said this he slapped the Dwarf that accompanied him on the back. 

"You are too kind sir," Andaleth replied. " I remember that night well. Palneus was to busy being a cuckhold to notice his pretties disappearing under his nose. But those days are behind me. I don't regret them, or anything that I did, as I felt it needed to be done, but I should think that my life will follow a different path from here on out. Oddly enough it was this life that brought me here to Modeus' Keep. I, how should one say this, liberated a dragon egg from a band of rebels and cutthroats and apparently Modeus' was impressed with my skills. He also wanted the dragon egg. Since I had no real use for it, and since I didn't fancy facing off with him for it, he got the egg, I got a more permanent job." Andaleth finished with a smile. 

Andaleth could see that Aseer was listening in on the converstation between Modeus and Etraxi as well and Andaleth shared the disappointment that crossed over the mans face. "Being left here as reserves I see?" he said. Andaleth nodded and said,"I am sure the Modeus knows what he is doing. I doubt he would want a bunch of half-trained apprentices cramping his style." The last thought made Andaleth smile a bit. 

Looking at all of his companions Andaleth couldn't help but wonder what brought each of them here. He of course had valuable street skills, and of course there was the pesky presence of his Fel magic, something he cared not to dwell on, but were those things enough to warrant him a place here amongst others whose gifts he was sure outclassed his own. Only time would tell why Modeus found him worthy of a place here, amongst the Dragon Riders. 

Curious as to the others backgrounds Andaleth turned to them and was going to ask about their backgrounds, but was beaten to the punch by the dwarf that had accompanied Aseer to the table.

“Well, I think we should be gettin’ to know each other," He said. "After all, how can I trust someone I don’t know? And Im sure well be needin’ to be trustin’ each other before long. Modeus’ll make sure of that. I think ill start. As I said my name’s Morrak Aerg of Gildukr, a fallen dwarven stronghold in the mountains. I was trained with me dads old hammer since I was a young lad, whenever he wasn’t using it to bash in some beast or another. He carried it with him during battle, and said it would be mine when I was older. We got along fine, with him guardin’ the tower from those golden fiends, and I preparin’ to do the same. Then, one day a big one of them attacked, and there was nothin’ we could do to stop him. He was a hundred feet tall, with claws as sharp as swords. His breath was able to burn straight thru a tower like the one we’re in. My dad was on top o’ that tower, and he was the first to fall. Luckily he sounded the alarm in time to repel the beast, but he and that whole side o’ the keep burned to the ground."

Taking a breath and a daught of ale Morrak continued, “Me and some o’ me friends tried to stop the beast, but we were destroyed by that beast. He hit us with his fire as we were running in, and most of us died then. I was one of the lucky ones, with bad burns covering me whole body. The guard eventually knocked the beast back, and our hosts the Ironhammers took in the survivors, as few as we were. They evacuated us and saved most of us, but not me family. They were hit by that dragons fire as they ran, and they didn’t stand a chance. I found me dads smoldered body in the remains of the tower, and his hammer was somehow intact. I took it up and swore vengeance on all the golden fiends in the mountain."

“Since then I’ve been fightin’ for the Ironhammers and I killed many a beast for ‘em. I was tendin’ one o’ the eggs for some o’ the older apprentices, and I had an overwhelming desire to hatch one o’ the eggs myself. So, I asked Modeus if I could, and luckily for me he did."

As the Dwarf finished Andaleth couldn't help but feel touched by Morrak's tale. Having lost both of his parents early in his life, Andaleth knew the pain that that could cause. Morrak finished, asking,“What about you? How’d an Elf like yerself find yer way here, Extraxi? And you, Aseer. I told you a lot about me, but I don’t recall you tellin’ me much back. And of course Andaleth, detail is much obliged”.

There was something about these two that Andaleth liked. The easy going manner that Aseer had about himself, and the ever straight foward attitude the Morrak possessed made him comfortable. Typically the loner Andaleth was actually reveling in the companionship, though the Dwarven Ale probably helped his apprehension considerably. 

"Well my tale is not so impressive as that sir dwarf," Andaleth said. "To make a long story short, Bad guys had a Dragon Egg, though I didn't know it was an egg at the time, I was hired to retrieve it, steal is such a harsh word since they stole it to begin with, and as I was making my way out of the Rebels compound, Modeus swooped in on that great black beastie of his, gave the whole gieve me the egg speach, not that he threatened me overtly but hell he wouldn't need to would he, so I did. Something I must of done impressed him and he offered me a place here. Though seing what some of the other apprentices are capable of I am not sure that I deserve a spot here, none the less here I am. What is your story Aseer?"


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi settled back on his chair, listened to Andaleth and felt a small flicker of doubt at the man's alliegances settle in his stomach, and said "this is the short story and if you want the long one ask me in private.I left my royal family and built up a reputation as a ranger and a hunter. People wanted to be like me," at this he chuckled drily "my younger brother was one of them. He was killed and I joined the army to make up for it. I fought in the battle for glacier pass and because of what I did there Modeus offered to let me join him. I accepted and spent the last few months walking here."

"That's my story Morrak," he said, "what of the rest of you?"


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat listened as the dragon spoke. _"Is there anything else you require to know elf?" _The mage smiled. "Interesting," he mumbled, "No no I believe this has been informative enough. Thank you." The high elf gave a slight head bow before leaving.

The ale was waiting when Uthiat returned. The elf glanced down. The others were speaking about their history, at least that’s what he gathered from Extraxi’s last statement. The elf looked into his mug. There were still a few drinks left, but inebriation was not his goal.


"Well my friends," he cut in when things went quiet, "I am a wanderer and a seeker of knowledge. I have spent the last 60 or so years working with tradesmen as a wondering scholar, or negotiator. I could tell you some interesting things about the caravan trade..." He looked at the others, "But I am guessing that's not what any of you would want to hear. I helped rid a small community of a dragon. It took everything I had to bring down the beast, and a mountainside collapsing upon it didn't hurt much either. Modeus apparently found me there, and invited me here. Though this is different than I had expected it to be."


Uthiat lifted his mug from the table. "Would any of you like another drink? I believe I may have reached my limit." He smiled. In truth the elf was still several good drinks away form being intoxicated. The elf had made up his mind. He would listen to the others for a few minuets before making his way back to his room. The night had been eventful enough and he needed to write a few things down before they were forgotten.


----------



## Yru0

"I think I'll take that drink! No, point letting it go to waste." Aseer said in his usual cocky tone, although it was a facade, the conversation was drawing up more questions than answers. Even Morrak had left out a lot of key details form his original story, enough as to leave out much of the horrors that he had witnessed, and Andaleth had appeared to 'phase' out almost, as if he was reliving some past memory, and that smile that briefly flickered upon his face brought a chill to Aseer, but alas, everyone has their secrets, and he was no different. The trouble is choosing which ones you KEEP secret.

"Uthiat my friend! I may be more interested in carvans than you think. 60 years you say? Well, I myself was found lying amongst a pillaged and butchered group of traders when I was lucky enough to be picked up by my current father. It was too long ago to remember, but I always feel secure in the desert sands for some reason." Aseer gazed at his ale as memories of his early childhood came back, stories from his father about the twisted, mangled wreck in which he'd been found, and the bloodied body of a man that had been cut down at the entrance, obviously fighting off whatever was going after the wailing baby inside. But his new friends had no need of that information.

"Either way, I'm a noble from the West of the human lands, and not a man on the land can best me at the bow-string, although I wouldn't put dumb luck past a few of you!" Aseer stated with a wink, the ale once more coursing through his system, "I've brought down bandits and fought in epic battles, but that winged-beast was truly something to be feared! A dragon attacked a village in our province, and I was sent with some of my father's best men to hunt it down. It was an absolute slaughter." Aseer remembered the bloody scene and shuddered at the image, "My arrows were useless against it's hide, and I had no choice but to face my own death in the eye! Fortunately, Modeus came and saved the village much possible damage." Aseer took another swig from the glass before continuing, "I accepted his offer for three reasons, firstly, I will not let my land burn without protecting it in all possible ways, but mostly I NEVER again want to see a dragon laugh away my arrows' points like one does a mosquito."


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## komanko

The little black two headed dragon looked at Avariss for one long moment. Both of it’s heads were extending towards Avariss and scouring him closely before the smell of fresh mammoth meat stew distracted them. 

Slowly and carefully the dragon approached the food, probably thinking that it was some kind of trap or trick. Avariss sighed, so early in its life and this creature already thinks of traps, deceit and treachery… Upon approaching the food the heads looked at each other as if thinking of something and then they began devouring the hot stew in the bowl.

Avariss was intrigued by the sight of the dragon eating; it showed what a terrible hunter this beast was. The dragon used its claws to rend through the meat, tearing pieces effortlessly until finally he simply devoured the whole piece of meat after slicing it into two parts.

It seemed that although the heads shared the same digestive system each of them still wanted to taste the meat and satisfy its hunger like it was an individual and not a whole. At least it looked like it and it was fascinating. 

Pondering about the dragon made Avariss realize that it was not an ordinary dragon. He rarely heard of two headed dragons… Was it some sort of mutation? Or maybe a blessing? He could not tell, maybe if he would run some tests on the dragon… Yet these tests required the approval of the subject which in that case was the dragon and Avariss knew that at the current state of their relationship the dragon would probably disagree. 

He had to find someone else to ask about this mutation, maybe he will have a chat with Modeus later if the lord would even answer him after the behavior he displayed earlier in the feast.

Avariss was torn away from his thoughts when he heard a creaking and saw the dragon sitting on the table nearby, the creaking was probably the moans from the table as the dragon made its way up to it. From its high sit on the table Avariss saw that the dragon was observing him, watching him, and maybe studying him. At some point the left head narrowed its eyes as if thinking of a way to damage and harm Avariss while the other head looked less tensed and friendlier.

The great difference between the heads at this moment brought Voice into Avariss’s thoughts yet for reasons unknown he was held at bay or simply did not wish to comment. This vile thing which possessed parts of his mind decided to stay quiet, maybe rethinking its moves after realizing that Avariss’s death will bring to its own death.

“*I am warning you now left head, if you are going to try and harm me I am going to incinerate you and then skin you alive you little piece of scales. Scales are highly valued this days and I may make some armour out of them if I am luckey.*”

The head quickly changed its behavior, trying to worm its way out by saying that such thoughts never came to its mind. Avariss doubted that but it was good enough for him. As long as the lizard respected him there was no need for a quarrel between them.

The stench of vomit began to make its way towards Avariss’s nostrils, it was disgustingly vile smelling. He had to find some way of removing it. He looked around for some sort of a rag or a barrel with water yet saw none. While searching for one his eyes spotted what seemed to be an oak made door which he did not see earlier.

Thinking that maybe there was some sort of cleaning devices behind the door he walked towards it and opened it. He felt that the room that lay before him was a blessing of sorts as it contained not only a water source but also a whole tin bath for him to clean himself and his cloths.

Looking around the room for a bit he found a rag in the corner. He picked it up and drowned it in water. He then took it out and began wiping all of the vomit from the floor in the main room. After he was finished he had no choice but wash it in the tin bath. It was a shame as all the water will be spoiled now yet to his surprise the filth in the water simply vanished after a few seconds of getting in touch with the water itself.

After he finished cleaning the rag he began cleaning his shirt and only after that did he began cleaning himself as much as possible. He splashed water on his face several times, washing away the remainder of sleep from his eyes.

After he finished he put on his now cleaned cloths and walked out. The smell was a lot more tolerable now. Seeing that the dragon was still watching him he picked it up and brought it to the newly discovered room, “*Would you like me to wash you? It’ll remove the remainders of the protective shell that remained after you hatched from the egg*.”


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## Angel of Blood

Kell looked back to see Krombrak still charging after him around, over or straight through the tables in his way. Unfortunaetly for Kell, the apprentices at those table decided they didn't want to get involved with the fight like he had hoped. He started trying to think up another plan when he saw a rapid movement out of the corner of his eye, he had no time to turn but had a horribly suspicous feeling as to what the object was. As the object crashed to into the side of his head he was knocked flat to the ground "Seriously?" he yelled out, he then looked to see Typhon on the ground next to him, he gave the dragon an exasperated look and yelled at him "Come on?! Really?". He had barely began to yell the words at Typhon befoe he pounced into Krombrak, knocking him flat to the ground aswell.

Kell watched Typhon once again disappear out of sight under the tables. He warily watched Krombrak pick himself off the ground, but as the northman picked himself up off the ground Kell could see that the frenzied look had disappeared from his eyes. Krombrak studied Kell for a moment and then slammed his fist across his chest in what seemed to be a martial salute of sorts, he then went back to drink with his fellow northmen. Kell let out a long sigh, Kell enjoyed a fight as much as anyone, but the northmans blood craze had worried him for a moment that he might take it too far.

He turned around to apologise to the group of apprentices he had almost crashed into, but he noticed that they were they were his fellow apprentices. He took a seat down at the table and pulled a plate of food towards himself and looked down the table to the others. "Two tips for all of you." He announced to them. "First. Don't interfere with a northmans fight, it just really, really isn't worth it. Two. If you happen to see my dragon on your travels, put your guard up, it seems he is rather fond of attacking anyone and anything." he paused then added wearily "Including me"


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## revan4559

Everyone(Except Avariss): All of you remain in the Great Hall exchanging stories of how you came to be in the apprenticeship of Lord Modeus but none of you seem able to piece together what all of you have done to prove you are worthy of becoming a Dragon Rider, though Uthait and Andaleth have been able to pick up within all the stories somehow involve either seeing, stealing or fighting dragons. After what seems another hour of feasting and drinking Lord Modeus stands up and gives one final speech about bidding you all welcome to High Dragon Hold and congratulates all those whose eggs have already hatched and says that all of you should head back to your rooms for a good nights sleep as there will be yet more training tomorrow. With that the Dragon Lord bows ebfore turning away and striding out of a huge door shortly followed by his dragon who'se every step seems to make the ground shake. After finishing what food you have on your plate and ale inside of your mugs you bid each other good night and are lead back to your rooms by a dwarf of the Ironhammer Clan, save for Extraxi and Kell who have somehow managed to find their way back to their rooms unaided. Once you are back in your room you all go through the door which you hadn't explored earlier and find that it is a wash room and freshen yourselves up before going to sleep.(Those of you with hatched dragons, your dragons have gone to sleep at the foot of your bed)

Avariss: Your dragon sits there on the table staring at you when you bring the cloth closer to it both heads scaly lips peal back abit and quiver as they snarl at the watery rag after having observed you clean up your own vomit with it, you guess that it was because you hadn't changed the rag before offering that they have gotten annoyed. After a few moments the dragon turns away from you and heads back to the heating Alcove and curls up in it before going to sleep. You then realize that you have only had an hours sleep yourself and that you should get some more as tomorrow will be a whole different day and you do not know what Modeus will do to you or what kind of training there will be. So you decide to head back over to your bed, lay down and go to sleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone: It has been eight hours since you returned to your rooms after the drinking and feasting in the Great Hall of the High Dragon Hold, upon returning to your rooms you settled down for the night and went to sleep. Though you all have pleasent dreams you are rudely awakened by a thumping at your door which sounds like angry dwarves trying to wake you up for your first real lessons with the Dragon Lord Modeus. Some of you slowly blink the sleep from your eyes and try to regain focus through the hazy blur that comes with being drunk or still partially intoxicated. You then look around your room and find everything is still much the same from how it was last night saves for a few things knocked over in your drunken swaying which you will need to put back in its proper place when the day has finished. The knocking on your door continues until the dwarves outside and happy that you are now awake and seem to quieten down while waiting for you.


Andaleth: You lay upon your bed staring at the ceiling and find the quite very peaceful as you start to feel the coming of a minor headache from drinking too much and wonder if you should cut back on your drinking, however the peace and quiet is shattered by the crashing and falling over of a cloak stand in the corner of your room and as you sit up you notice one of your traveling bags is moving around the room in random directions and after a few moments you can see why. Sticking out of the bag is the rear half of a small snow white lizard covered in purple-ish slime with two scaly looking wings sticking out of its back, you then realize what is trying to look inside of your bag it is your dragon, your dragon has finally hatched! What do you do? Do you run over and pick it up? Do you move over and get some breakfast and observe it? Do you try to get its attention by talking to it?

Extraxi: You awaken to an extremely cold feeling on the bottom of your feet which makes you pull them away from the end of your bed as quickly as you can, looking at your feet you notice that part of it has become frosted over however the frost easily comes off when your wipe it with your thumb though it does require several moments for the feeling to return to your feet, looking down at the bottom of your bed as to why your feet were so cold you can see the curled up form of a lizard covered in icicles that has frozen over the bottom of your bed and at your rapid movements as awakened to stare at you with ice-blue eyes. Looking around the room you can see that the egg which was in its corner is broken and realisation hits you, your dragon has hatched and was the one freezing your feet to the point where they almost became icicles! How do you feel that your dragon has now finally hatch? Do you attempt to talk to it?

Uthiat: You awaken to find that you have no hint of being drunk or intoxication and place it down to your elven biology that you are able to handle your drink alot better than your first thought. Slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position you see something gold appear in your vision, perched at the end of your bed and staring at you is a golden newly hatched dragon, for a few moments you stare back at the little drake wondering why it is staring at you then realize that this is your dragon as you can see that its head as shattered from emerging into this world. As you continue to look at the little dragon you hear a young sounding by definantly female voice enter your head "Greetings Elf of the Sunlight lands, it is a pleasure you meet you. Now if you would be so kind could you perhaps pour me out a bowl of that stew still in the cauldron above the fire?" What do you think that your dragon is female? Do you give her a name straight away? Or do you do what she asks first?

Avariss: It wasn't just the banging on the door that has awoken you from your strangely pleasent dreams but infact it was the sharp pains in your toes which make you quickly throw off the covers to see what is happening to your feet, in which you are confronted with the following sight. Your newly hatched two-headed dragon is nibbling and biting on your toe's with one head concerntrating on each foot, while they aren't biting deep or trying to tear them off it continually feels like someone is jabbing needles into your toes. You should stop both of them either using your hands which could result in them biting your fingers or simply pulling your feet away. However you will need to think on how exactly you are going to punish them for ignoring what you had said to them both last night about attacking you as you had seen the way Kell's dragon acts towards him and hope that these two won't do the same thing. You then recall that you have yet to give your dragon a name, yet there are two heads so do you give it one name between the two or two seperate names?

Kell: Opening your eyes you stare at the ceiling with slightly blurry eyes after the heavy drinking you did last night and do your best to try and remember what exactly happened, along with trying to figure out how you managed to find your way back to your room with no help and end up coming to the conclusion that you must of chased Typhon back here after getting attacked....You then remember that Typhon has a habbit of attacking you when your least expect it and before you are able to push yourself up to try and see where the little trouble maker is a rather heavy purple-grey form dives down from the ceiling and slams straight into your stomach winding you and forcing you to roll out of the bed and onto the floor where you remain for about two minutes holding your stomach, and arrogantly sat about one foot infront of you is Typhon staring at you with his bright green eyes letting out some kind of noise that oddly sounds like laughing. What do you do to your little dragon? Scold him again which clearly doesn't work? or just ignore him?

Bjor: You open your eyes and are greeted by the sight of the black-grey head and neck of Minerva staring directly down at your face as if waiting for you to wake up and as you start to move she backs off from your face and moves to perch on the end of the bed post and stares at you as if she is waiting for you to do something. After greeting her all you get in response is the little female dragon pushing two rather bossy words straight into your mind "Feed Me." As you hear the voice in your head she turns her head and thrusts her nose straight towards the pot above the fire place, obiously wanting some more of the mammoth stew that is in there. How do you feel about having such a boss and arrogant young dragon? Will you teach her to respect you some more or will you just ignore her for now and do what she says? Will you also decide to have some breakfast along with her aswell or just go and have a wash to wake yourself up ready for todays training?

Morrak: You wake up to the loud banging but you unlike most of the other apprentices, you are completely wide awake with no ill affects of all the drinking last night thanks to your dwarven constitution and being able to handle your drink better than the short lived humans and the tall skinny elves. Pushing yourself out of your bed you look around the room and notice something strange laying on the main dining table in the center of your room. There is a blue winged two foot lizard laying on your table sleeping contently, after a few moments you realize that this is your dragon and it must of hatched during the several hours that you were sleeping. Overjoyed you almost shout out how happy you are but contain it as it may wake the dragon, looking around the room you wonder if it has eaten and if you should get it some food. Do you try to wake it up gently to give it some breakfast and name it? or leave it be for now?

Aseer: Quickly pushing yourself out of bed you stand on the cold stone fall which almost makes you jump due to how cold it is before getting used to it after a couple of moments and start to wander around the room getting ready to have some breakfast when you notice sat on the end of your bed is the red scaled and winged form of a newly hatched dragon, shifting your gaze quickly to your dragon egg you notice that it is broken and empty which makes you immidiately assume that the red dragon sat on the end of your bed is your dragon. You feel overjoyed that your dragon has finally hatched and now have something to talk to the older apprentices about how to take care of a dragon along with now having bragging rights to those apprentices who still may not have a hatched dragon yet. Do you try to talk to your dragon and find out if it is male or female? Do you give it a name after finding out its gender? Or do you perhaps go and get yourself and it some breakfast first?

OOC: These are the appearances of your dragons:

Sirrush(Midge): http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Qm2i8mXTjhs/S7dquSyv86I/AAAAAAAACiI/BVoXrY524FU/s1600/white-dragon.jpg

Glacies(Santaire): http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs41/f/2009/004/0/5/Ice_Dragon_by_Ruth_Tay.jpg

Meldiriel(G0arr): http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs42/f/2009/098/0/c/Gold_Dragon_by_BenWootten.jpg

Gresh'Thoth(Komanko): http://images.wikia.com/forgottenrealms/images/c/cd/4e_black_dragon.jpg

Typhon(Angel of Blood): http://images.wikia.com/forgottenrealms/images/1/1e/1417517-1.jpg

Minerva(Black Apostle): http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs25/f/2008/037/a/0/Sinistre_black_dragon_by_Rhynn.jpg

Valerian(JAMOB): http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs45/f/2009/098/3/c/Blue_Dragon_by_BenWootten.jpg

Seraphim(Yru2): http://www.rhesusnegative.net/work/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/red-dragon.jpg


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## komanko

The dragon answered his question simply with a snarl of anger. Avariss raised an eyebrow not realizing what the problem was. As the dragon continued growling at the rag he decided to look what troubled it. Looking at the rag revealed it to be covered in vomit which made Avairss realize that the dragon thought that he was going to wipe him with that rag.

Shaking his head Avariss said, “Not with this rag you idiots.” Avariss went to the tin bath and began washing the rag, cleaning it out of any foul think which now infested it. After he finished he squeezed most of the water from the rag and grabbed it in his left hand.

By the time that he finished this small chore the dragon was already a sleep by the heating alcove. Avairss sighed, he realized that growing such a creature would be a lot more difficult than it first seemed, this thing was intelligent, maybe even more than what Avariss himself way. He should not underestimate the lizard.

Avariss took off his shirt and placed it on a nearby shirt. He then threw the rag near the black scaled dragon, maybe in the morning it will feel like cleaning up a bit. Avariss then entered the relatively large bed which was in his disposal and quickly fell asleep.

After all it was a trouble filled day along with a difficult one, and this hopefully dreamless sleep was well rewarded and will do him good. He did realize one thing though; he was going to bed a lot earlier than the others as he did not hear any steps from the outside. It would hopefully make him more aware than the others tomorrow.

++++++++++++++++++

His ears flickered at the sound of thumping against a door.

The sound grew only stronger and stronger with each passing second.

Soon he began hearing mumblings of anger from outside the door yet something else was not right as well. He felt like millions of tiny needles were penetrating the skin of his feet.

He was fully awake now and barely felt any headache from yesterday’s drinking, apparently all of yesterday’s vomiting did pay off somehow he thought to himself. 

Avariss quickly rolled to the edge of the bed and threw away the covers. He heard a tiny screech as the covers were thrown away and with them what seemed to be a black mass. He quickly stood up and looked at his feet; all of his toes were red and aching. 

Meanwhile the thumping against the door grew ever stronger, “*I am awake you moron, stupid dragon decided to make a morning feast out of me*!” He shouted at the one behind the door. The pounding against the door stopped and a harsh and crude voice answered him from behind the door, “*Finally, I thought I will have to ram down the door to wake you up*!” Avariss laughed, it was all too possible that it might have ended in this if the dragon did not help the one behind the door.

The dragon. Avariss turned to face the creature which was trying to untangle itself from the covers of the bed but only seemed to entangle himself more. While the dragon was desperately trying to escape the mean grasp of the bed covers Avariss moved to his clothing and put them on, his shirt and than a dark robe which he took with him yet did not wear the day before. 

That robe was one of the few things he managed to take with him from his family’s home before he was banished; it was a relatively well made robe, even beautiful by some standards. The main color of the robe was a very dark shade of purple. Two parallel trims ran across the sides of the robe both in a dark green color. The robe itself came with a hood which it’s edges were decorated by a trim of the same color as of the robe’s trim. 

Avariss went to the bathing room and washed his face, the water seemed to be clean again and no sign of yesterday’s filth could be seen. After cleaning himself a little and waking up completely Avariss turned back to the main room and saw that the dragon was still trying to escape the cover’s vile clench. 

“*Gresh’Thoth*!” Avariss raised his voice at the dragon. He just named him with the first words which came to his mind. It did not sound funny or weird so he decided that it will do. Although when he thought about it he remembered that he was told a story in the past about two dragons named Gresh and Thoth. Maybe that’s where those words came from. He was unsure yet it did not matter, the name was given.

“*This will be your name from now on, Gresh will be left head, and the right head will be Thoth. Do we agree*?” Avariss did not wait for an answer it was part of the punishment which he decided to give the dragon for disobeying his words. “*Good. Now, I am going to let you both out of this mess and you are going to act like a sane hmm… Lizard. If you don’t we have to options either none of us will receive food today because we won’t be able to enter the dining hall*.” The movement inside the covers stopped for a moment and a sound which resembled annoyance and disappointment came out. “*Or I will tie the covers even further and won’t let you out for the rest of the day*.” A screech of fear came out of the covers and Avariss understood that his threat was clear to the dragon.

“*Now that we both understand each other I am letting you out*.” Avariss moved to the covers and pulled them violently throwing them back to the bed as a confused and tired dragon came out of them rolling and breathing heavily. 

He looked at the dragon and the dragon looked back. Avariss shook his head and sighed, “*What am I going to do with you*…” He then smiled and gives a quick pet to each head, “*I have decided that I won’t put you back in those covers now I ask you to act patiently and politely to others unlike the other dragons I saw yesterday*.”

He then picked up his staff and laid it against the wall. Looking around a bit he found his sword and attached it to his robe with the help of a belt and a scabbard. Finally he as usual hid his dagger. Now that he was ready he picked up his staff again and opened the door which led to the hall and stepped outside waiting for his dragon as well.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Bjor opened his eyes, his vision still blurry, the room spinning slowly...he was still drunk. A black shape took up most of his vision and as he began to move it moved, Bjor's vision finally focusing on Minerva who was now perched on a bed post at the end of his bed. He nodded at her and got 'feed me' as his response, he laughed heartily at her before patting her on the head as he made his way to the washroom and cleaned himself up, splashing ice cold water on his face to relieve what he knew would be a vicious hangover later on.

He did not care that she wanted food right at this moment, she would learn to respect him and wait till he was ready. As he made his way out and began pouring the soup into two bowls, he could tell it irked her that he was making her wait and he smiled at the thought before setting both bowls down on the table in his room and sitting down to eat. She came and sat on the table and lowered her head, practically inhaling the food within the bowl. 

As she finished Bjor stared right into her eyes, *"Disrespect me like that again and you will not eat. If you do not eat you will not have strength, if you do not have strength you will not do well in training, and if you do not do well in training you will be punished. My people brook NO failure in their warriors and we are trained in the harshest conditions that would kill normal warriors outright, but while most of our training is made to strengthen our bodies the most important lesson that we learn is respect. Respect for ourselves, our abilities, our weapons, our brothers and sisters in arms and our enemies, if there is no respect then there is no chance for victory and you will die a horrible death. As arrogant as you are I doubt you want to die so young and I for one do not wish to be embarrassed by the other initiates and their dragons do you?" *

She glared at him, he had hit a chord apparently, he smiled at her, *"We will be the strongest pair if I have anything to say about it and I know you will not settle for anything less either. I do not mind you being arrogant with the others, but not with me, we are to be partners and arrogance between the two of us will not aid us in any way shape or form."* he finished his bowl and grabbed hers before getting up and filling them both up again, *"Am I understood?"* She stared at him, her silence was a good enough answer for him, it meant she was processing what he was saying and taking it in. As he made his way back he fought to walk straight as the world spun around him, a small chuckle reverberating through his head as he set Minerva's bowl down in front of her and sat himself down on a chair. 

*"I am going to acquire a barrel of that ale for you so that you can experience what I am going through right now."* he said to her, the look of fear in her eyes making him almost fall off his seat he laughed so hard.


----------



## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

Morrak and Aseer run as fast as they can from the pursuing dragons, finally taking refuge in an abandoned cave. They had just slain another of the beasts, but this one was much bigger and now enraged. They waited in silence for the dragon to leave, and heard a loud thumping from outside. “What is that Morrak?” asked Aseer. “I don’t know, sounds like”…

“Wake up Morrak! Its time for your first lesson soon”, shouted a voice the Morrak recognized as his friend Duergen. “Alright already” he yelled back. “Im up!” As he looked around he saw something long blue and very beautiful on his table. He didn’t recognize it at first, but after staring at it he saw it was a Dragon. He looked around to where he had left the egg and saw that it had hatched. “Heavens beard, it’s beautiful,” he whispered quietly, looking back at the dragon.

He decides not to wake it, and goes to the fire to heat up the stew that had been left last night. It had the great boar meat that dwarves favour so much, along with some great natural vegetables growing around here. As it heated up, he heard a voice in his mind. “Food,” it whispered. It sounded half asleep, and Morrak looked at the dragon seeing that it was stirring. He held his breath, and as the Dragon got up it sleepily looked at him. Morrak reached out and stroked his scales, noticing how dirty they were from hatching. “Come on little one, lets clean ye up and then you can have some of that stew”. The dragon seemed to agree and went with him, still very sleepy.

As Morrak washed the young dragon he realized how beautiful it truly was. Its scales shown in the light and his golden underside was quickly uncovered. “It’s beautiful," he whispered again. “I’m a boy,” said the voice in his head. Morrak looked around, confused that it seemed to come from nowhere yet everywhere at once. “Its me, the dragon you’ve been washing for the past ten minutes”. Morrak looked at the dragon in astonishment. “Ye can talk?” he asked aloud. “Of course I can. What do you take me for? And as I said, I’m a boy”. “Are ye now,” Morrak said softly. “Then I’ll have to be callin’ you Valerian, little one. It’s a very strong type of steel, refined to its most perfect form. It shines blue, just like you”. “So be it”, Valerian replied. “How about some of that stew? I’ve been clean for a while now and your rubbing hurts”.

Morrak laughed and brought the dragon over to the stew. “Sorry my hands are so rough,” he amended, “But I’m a blacksmith after all”. Valerian remained quiet. Morrak finished preparing the stew, and poured himself and Valerian a bowl each. As Morrak ate, Valerian inhaled it in seconds. “More,” came the voice. “Alright little one, here ye are” Morrak said as he got Valerian another bowl.

When they were both done and had their fill, the cauldron was empty and they stood up to leave. “Lets go,” Morrak said. "Its time for our lesson, I think”. The two walked out into the hall. Morrak was already glad he had asked Modeus for the Dragon. He wondered how long that would last…


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi stood from the table and, bidding his new friends farewell, began to walk slowly back to his room. A dwarf of the Ironhammer Clan moved towards him but Extraxi waved him away. “I can make my own way,” he said tiredly and the dwarf bowed before returning to his fellows. Extraxi walked through the corridors of the great fortress towards his room, noticing but not really taking in the furnishings around him. Eventually he reached the wooden door to his room and opened it.

He walked in and saw that his dragon eg had not yet hatched although now the whole alcove was covered in ice. He smiled slightly and turned away from the alcove towards the door he had seen earlier. He opened it and saw that it led into a washroom containing all the things he would require to keep clean. He stepped inside and slipped out of his clothes. He walked towards the tin bath and, climbing into the container, lay back in the water. The water was warm, a luxury he hadn’t experienced for a long time.

As well as cleaning him the bath also refreshed him and he climbed out of it feeling better than he had. He pulled on a pair of trousers and climbed into bed. As he drifted off to sleep his thoughts began to drift back to the last time he had lived in such luxury in his old family home.
__________________________________________
Extraxi woke due to a freezing coldness on the soles of his feet. He pulled them in quickly, looking at them he saw a thin rim of frost that he wiped away with his thumb. He them threw back the covers to reveal the source of his discomfort. What he saw there froze him instantly. There was the curled up form of a lizard covered in icicles. His dragon had hatched. At his sudden movements the ice dragon looked at him to reveal ice blue eyes filled with curiosity and intelligence. Extraxi began to laugh for the sheer joy of seeing his hatched dragon. “Glacies,” he said aloud, naming the dragon. It looked at him again before turning it’s head and curling up once more. He heard a female voice, although it was more of a thought than speech 'I like it, but what does it mean?' He smiled saying "It means ice in the tongue of my homeland young one."

A thumping at the door jolted Extraxi back to reality and a gruff voice sounded through the heavy wood. “Come on man, your training will start soon,” the dwarf said. Extraxi climbed out of bed and, walking over to where he had left them, pulled on his clothes and armour. He picked up his sheathed knife and fastened it to his hip before slinging his quiver on his back. He picked up his bow and sent an arrow hurtling through the air to thump into the center of the target on his wall. “Good,” he grunted, pleased that he wasn’t much affected by all the ale he had consumed the night before.

The thudding on his door continued as did the voice bellowing that he had to wake up. Extraxi, who was getting tired of the noise, fired a second arrow at the door. The point buried itself in the thick wooden door at about dwarf head height and the thumping stopped to be replaced by several hurried footsteps away from the door. Extraxi removed his arrow from the target before walking over and wrenching his other one from the door. He put both back in his quiver before turning and walking to the table. He sat down and poured himself a small amount of the stew from the previous night and, after a short space of thought, poured a small amount for his dragon. He ate the stew quickly and sat in silence for a while as he watched Glacies devour his meal.

Extraxi stood from the table and held out his arm to the dragon that climbed onto his shoulder. He walked over and opened the door to reveal his guide “Shall we go” he said, a little smugly, gesturing down the corridor "or do I have to leave my new friend behind." The guide looked confused until he saw the icicles rising from Extraxi's shoulder and the thin rim of frost that was already forming. "You can take it," he said gruffly. Extraxi nodded graciously and began to stroll down the corridor, ignoring his guide's half heard mutterings about the treachery of elves...


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## Yru0

Where the hell had Morrak gone?! Aseer deperetely dived behind a boulder as the cave entrance crashed in on him, revealing the monstrous beast behind it. Nothing had worked, everything they had thrown at it never worked. The dragon simply laughed, and kept laughing right in Aseer's face, mocking his weakness. Aseer collapsed to his knees, he had been running for eternity but had got nowhere and had accomplished nothing. And now he was about to die.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Aseer awoke in a cold sweat and a throbbing pain in his head. Aseer's darting eyes slowed and thankful laughter accompanied his agonised groans as he propped himself up on his bed. His great imaginary enemy had been replaced by an all to real and painful one, one which he knew all to well. Steadying himself as to make sure we was not about to hurl up the feast's contents from his stomach, Aseer heard the yelling and hammering coming from his door, the dwarf had obviously been trying to rouse him for some time, and the thunderous banging seemed to hurl itself around inside Aseer's skull, _Urghh, now I remember why I was supposed to lay off the dwarven ale. _ Aseer stood up and hurled one of his shoes at the source of the insistent racket, "I'm up already! Be gentle on a hungover man why don't ya?" Aseer followed this with a string of curses and insults as the dwarf obviously disagreed as a loud *clang* from two pieces of metal being struck emanated from outside.

Aseer finally began to take in his surroundings, "No good demon-roast son of a troll....." everything was more or less where it was suppossed to be, the arrows he had fired in his drunken sway the night before remained stuck fast in the sofa, and the room's floor remained covered in spilt liquor that he had taken with him from the party, a grin spread across Aseer's face, now he remembered why he *always* drank dwarven ale.

Aseer steadily carried himself to the bathroom for a well deserved shower, putting his weight on what was left of the room's furnishes, but stopped dead in his tracks as his tired mind grappled with a nagging warning in the back of his head. He longed to ignore it and just keep walking, but something was amiss. Aseer slowly turned his head and surveyed the devastation, yes, something was missing from his private pigsty. Arrows, bow, quiver, was there anything else that he forgot? Suddenly, Asser's body stood rigid and he froze on the spot, his head slowly panning to the source of the impatient clicking sound that now entered his sporadic hearing. Sat on the end of his bed, was an obviously amused dragon enjoying the antics of the obviously still intoxicated and most obviously surprised human. A stony silence filled the room as Aseer finally registered why there was a lizard sitting on the end of his bed and where it had come from, his dragon egg lay shattered not a meter from his feet.

Collapsing on a chair in front of the creature, Aseer looked over his new dragon, both curious and somewhat nervous as to what will transpire, he had forgot to ask any of the older apprentices what they did when their dragons had hatched. Well, after about a minute of silence in which both had summed each other up and made conclusions, Aseer grew tired of the staredown and decided he was to bloody hungover and hungry for this. My name is Aseer, and I am a human and your future partner. What may I call you? Do you dragons even choose your own names, or should I decide on it for you? In response the winged-lizard tilted it's head curious as to the motives of the strange two-legged creature that sat before it. We do not decide on our names, it is those that hatch us that reserve that right, as for you, I suggest you lay off of the ale in future. stated the dragon with what appeared as a smirk on it's apparently innocent face. The feminine voice had gone straight into his head, and Aseer had the impression that the dragon had been enjoying his discomfort for quite some time. Very funny little one, although I advise you to NOT tempt the one who gets to choose your name, hmmm?, at that the dragon feel silent although the smirk remained imprinted on its face. I shall call you Seraphim, for you will be an angel delivering justice to our foes, but first, I believe we should find some dinner, and perhaps see if we can have a friendly chat to that kind and considerate dwarf waiting outside. said Aseer with a wink, the dragon's eyes lighting up as it licked it's lips.


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat stood as Modeus finished his final speech. “I thank you gentlemen for the stories. Now I believe it is time for me to turn in for the night.” The elf stood and bowed to the others before moving away. As he did one of the dwarves stepped out and began to lead him back into the fortress. 
It was a series of loud thumps that made Uthiat open his eyes. It took a second and several blinks for the morning blur to leave his vision. As the elf slowly sat up he glanced around the room. His books were still where he had left them after scribbling several notes down from the night. The fire had been reduced to little more then embers, but the stew did not smell burnt. Uthiat would need to start another fire later, a simple task. In fact a bowl of stew sounded good to him. 

The thumping began again. “One moment,” Uthiat shouted. His eyes moved over the end of the bed. Where had he gotten the small statue? It was exquisite work. As the mage moved closer and mumbled, “Interesting.” As he did the head cocked to one side. 

“Oh my,” Uthiat exclaimed as his eyes widened. It was an actual dragon. He glanced up to the heating alcove. The egg was shattered. He looked back to see several small pieces of shell on the small dragon. For a moment the elf tried to think of something to say to the tiny thing. _"Greetings Elf of the Sunlight lands, it is a pleasure you meet you. Now if you would be so kind could you perhaps pour me out a bowl of that stew still in the cauldron above the fire?"_ A distinctly feminine voice spoke in his head.

“Why quite certainly,” Uthiat said with a smile, “I was thinking of making a bowl myself.” Uthiat stood and made his way to the table. As he removed the lid the smell of stew filled the room. The elf filled the first bowl and looked back. The small dragon was sitting beside the table looking up. “So, I would think you need a name,” Uthiat said lifting the little thing to the bowl he had sat on the table. The small dragon began to eat. Between the strange way it seemed to act, and the sound of its voice this little one seemed to be female. Uthiat thought as he made his own bowl. As he sat he looked at the small one. “Modeus told me this would be more of a partnership than ownership. I would have to say I would prefer that. So little one I think I have a name for you.” The small gold dragon looked up. “Meldiriel, how does that sound?” The small dragon cocked its head to one side. “_I like it_” the voice spoke again before the small dragon began to eat. “Good, good,” Uthiat said with a smile, “Meldiriel it is. Now eat up little friend we train today.”


----------



## Midge913

Andaleth listened to his companions stories. All where interesting no doubt, but like him, he couldn't tell what set each and everyone of them apart. What had each of them done to prove their worth in the Dragon Lord's eyes. We each had encounters with dragons, in one form or another, but other than each seemed about on the same level with the next. Each had talents and skills, that was without doubt, but abilities that made them worthy of riding a Dragon?..... Thoughts for another time. 

Andaleth spent the next hour drinking, eating, and sharing stories with his new found companions. He was so unused to the companionship that it was like a drug for him. He was intoxicated on the feeling of human interaction, not that the copious amounts of Dwarven Ale didn't contribute, that he actually felt mournful when Lord Modeus stood and once more bid them welcome to High Dragon Hold and congratulated the apprenctices whose dragons had hatched. Lord Modeus also cautioned that they all get some sleep as there would be more training tomorrow. Andaleth was close enough to his master that he thought he detected a hint of a mischievious smile on Modeus' face. With that Modeus turned and left the hall through the massive doors at the back of the room, followed closely by his dragon. Andaleth had to steady himself and with a yelp snatched up his mug of ale that was threatened by each of the beasts mighty footsteps. Thinking of the ale in his hand Andaleth wondered how many he had had this evening..... no doubt enough that his head would not thank him in the morning especially if they were to have early training sessions. Thinking that this last one couldn't hurt, Andaleth drained the full mug in one pull, which earned him a hearty slap on the back from Bjor, bid his fellows a good night, and unsteadily got to his feet. As if summoned by his motion one of the Dwarves of the Iron Hammer clan approached him, a large grin evident on its swarthy face, and motioned for Andaleth to follow. Andaleth noticed that the dwarf took a rather sedate pace to allow him to keep up as he swayed down the hall, humming to himself, happier and more content than he had been in years. 

Arriving at his room, Andaleth thanked his Dwarven guide and entered the room kicking off his boots. It felt good to get them off after a long day. Looking over into the alcove that housed his warming egg, Andaleth's good mood lessened slightly that it had not yet hatched. Resolving that the egg would hatch when it hatched and there was nothing he could do about it made him feel a bit better and he padded silently over to his washroom. Stripping out of his shirt, he washed the sweat of the day from his body with, drank some water in an effort to stave off the hangover he knew he would have in the morning, returned to his bed, flopped down, and fell asleep almost instantly. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
His dreams were pleasant for once. Andaleth again dreamed, as he had almost every night since his encounter with Modeus outside the rebels compound, of flying with his dragon. Feeling the freedom of soaring through the sky. Sharing the joy and exhiliration of open flight that his dragon always did. This time however the dream changed.... The skies turned dark as black storm clouds rolled in, obscuring his vision. Low rolling thunder echoed all around him. Lighting flashed right in front of him and the loudest clap of thunder he had ever heard rolled over him..... Jerking and flailing he fell out of bed onto the cool stone floor of his room.

Finding himself laying on his back, tangled in his bed covers, staring at the ceiling was not what he had expected. His head protested to the fall, the bright light, and the incessent pounding that still rattled through the room. It felt like a donkey had taken up residence inside his head and was trying to kick its way out through the back of his skull. Not the worst he had ever felt, but still unpleasant. Bang, bang, bang... the noise assaulted his ears like needles. Untangling himself from the sheets he realized that the pounding was someone knocking on his door. Rushing over to it hie flung it open and yelled, "would you stop that horrific noise!" At first he was confused as he saw no one standing there, but a quiet chuckle from about waist height caught his attention and he looked down quickly, a bad idea. One of the Dwarves of Clan Ironhammer was standing there, thumbs tucked behind his wide belt, clearly amused at Andaleth's inability to handle Dwarven Ale. " Master Andaleth," the dwarf began, " You are summoned for training. I will give you a few moments to collect yourself." The dwarf finished with suppressed mirth. 

Grumbling Andaleth lurched back into his room, directly for the wash room, and dunked his hole head directly in the wash basin. Leaving it submerged for several seconds. Splashin back out, feeling mostly refreshed and coherent, he dried himself, returned to his room and saw that he had knocked over a chair and several of his possessions in his drunking amblings last night. He righted the chair, picked up his boot dagger, donned his boots and reached for his satchel that contained his lockpicks, grapple, grease, and other tools of his trade. But couldn't see it anywhere. He wandered toward the washroom, trying to retrace his steps when a loud crash behind him made him jump in the air. Looking he saw that his cloack stand was on its side and that his satchel was rolling around the room seemingly of its own accord. Obviously he was still drunk. Bags did not move on their own, he was quite sure of that. He focused even more intently, approaching the bag slowly and stealthily, he got close enough to see that hangin out of the satchels opening was the rear half of a snow white lizard. In shock Andaleth wheeled around the face the warming alcove and found the remains of his beautiful egg. Facing the bag once again he saw that the creature was attempting to get at something in the bottom of the bag but in its movements had actually managed to squirm more out of the satchel and Andaleth could see two scaly snow white wings. It was his dragon, it had finally hatched!

"Hey little one," Andaleth said," if you are looking for food you are looking in the wrong place. Come out of there and I will get you some of this stew." Backing out of the bag fully, Andaleth was awestruck at the beauty of this tiny dragon. Shining white scales, razor sharp claws, and highly intelligent eyes which now regarded Andaleth with interest. Andaleth turned and filled a bowl with the aromatic stew and turned as he heard the click of his dragons clawed feet on the stone, and placed the bowl on the table. From beside the chair the little drake looked up at him, almost asking permission to jump up to the table, and Andaleth said,"Well come on then, up you get." 

Jumping to the table his dragon devoured the stew very quickly and looked up over the edge of the bowl, intelligent eyes once again piercing Andaleth's own and inside his head he heard a voice, unmistakeably male, say, "I will only say this once human. I will work with you, not for you. My kind are majestic and wise and I will not be treated like a lap dog. However, if you respect me and my abilities, I will respect yours. You promise to lay down your life for mine, I will protect you with my dying breath. This shall be a partnership of equals or their will be no partnership." Taking in the Drakes intelligence and undoubted potential Andaleth couldn't imagine that their relationship could be anything different. 

"My word Sirrush, for it is my understand that I should give you a name," Andaleth replied. Sirrush appeared to condiser this for a moment and he almost appeared to smile. "My name is Andaleth Veto," Andaleth continued," and I am to be your rider." Sirrush considered that for a moment and with obvious kindness and joviality said,"I suppose I can live with that. Now give me some more of that stew so we can eat and go before that kind dwarf outside your door wears a groove in the floor from his pacing." 

Andaleth couldn't help but laugh at Sirrush's cheek and stood and retrieved another bowl of stew. While Sirrush ate Andaleth retrieved a towel from the washroom and cleaned the remainder of the purple goo from his scales. When Andaleth reached the spot between the spines on the back of Sirrush's head he felt the drake rumble in contentment as it continued to eat. 


"Well greedy guts," Andaleth chided," Are you done stuffing your face yet? Shall we go?" Andaleth moved to the door to the room and held it out for Sirrush. Taking him in with a glare, Sirrush bound from the table top, hit him in the back with enough force to make Andaleth reach out to steady himself, curled himself across Andaleth's shoulder, his head just to the side of Andaleth's left ear, and settled in. "You may go now human," Sirrush said," I must digest." His tone sarcastic and playful. Shaking his head with a chuckle Andaleth secured his weapons, registering the fact that Sirrush had almost instictively left the handle of his short sword that stuck over his right shoulder clear for a fast draw, and determined that things had definitely gone from enjoyable to interesting, and followed the dwarf down the hallway.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell and the other apprentices continued to talk and drink, exchanging their stories of how they first encountered the Dragon Lord. Eventually though Modeus rose and gave a short speech before bidding them goodnight and taking his leave followed closely by his collossal dragon. 

-----------------------------

Kell awoke in his bed to the sound of someone relentlessly hammering against his door. "All right! I'm up!" he yelled to what he assumed was someone who had been sent to wake him. He continued to lie in his bed for the time being and groggily looked about his room. His armour stand and swords had at some point been knocked over as had two of his chairs. No doubt caused by either himself in his drunken state or Typhon. He looked up to the ceiling and through bleary eyes saw what looked to be a purplish blur, he rubbed his eyes and looked again to see Typhon looking directly at him and with creeping realisation knew what was about to happen. He warned "Don't you even think about dro--" and Typhon dropped, right onto his stomach emptying his lungs of air and making him roll out of bed in pain.

He stayed curled on the floor for a few minutes before slowly getting up. Looking back to the bed he saw Typhon continuing to stare at him, swishing his tail slowly back and forth and making an odd sound that he swore sounded like laughter. "I swear little one, if you don't stop attacking me i'll open that window and give you a premature flying lesson" He said roughly at the dragon. 

He washed himself and pulled on some fresh undergarments and then picked up the fallen items thoughout the room. He put on his leather armour but left the light mail armour for now. After sheathing his two swords across his back he picked up his pistol and went to holster it. As he did so he saw Typhon begin to move out of the corner of his eye and spun round to point his pistol directly at the dragon who looked like he had been about to pounce. "I mean it Typhon" he warned "Stop attacking me or this will not work out well for you or me. By all means attack the others, but i implore you to stop practicing on me or i *will* give you that lesson" Slowly holstering his pistol he said "Now, lets see what plans Modeus has for us today."


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## revan4559

Andaleth: With Sirrush on your shoulder you follow the dwarf through the halls of High Dragon Hold and while you have been here for almost a week now you are still barely able to find your way around without a guide but you guess that eventually after spending another month or so within the keep you will be able to find your way around the keep without the need of a guide though you decide to thank all of your dwarven guides when ever they lead you around their home. As you continue to follow the dwarf you can hear a rasp and metal and quickly turn to see that Sirrush is idly using his tail to pull your sword out of its sheath before putting it back and repeating the action, you are quite surprise at the strength of such a small creates tail being able to do that and come to the conclusion that Zar'Tharon your masters dragon could easily demonlish a building with a single swing of his. Finally you reach a large set of metalic doors with the apprentices you meet yesterday stood outside and it appears that now all of them have their own dragons, after thanking your guide you walk over to the group and wait for the last of them to arrive, the human Kell.

Extraxi: As you follow the guide to where ever your first true lessons about dragons or fighting will be you can feel your shoulder and most of your shoulder, neck and right side of your face start to freeze over from the coldness of Glacies and wonder if it was such a good idea to let her sit upon your shoulder. Should you reach up to see how much of your neck has become covered in frost you can feel that a thin layer of ice as frozen over it and yet not made your skin become frost bitten, maybe it is something that Ice Dragons are able to do if they have riders that they are able to cover them in ice without frezzing their skin and internal organs which makes you wonder if when she is older she could cover your armour in ice as hard as steel which could be so much lighter. While your mind considers the possibilities your dwarven guide leads you to your destination where you can see the rest of the apprentices have gathered outside of a large set of metal doors which you assume lead to where ever the High Lord is.

Uthiat: After finishing her food your dragon jumps off of the table and lands next to the door before paitently waiting for you to finish and gather your things. After collecting your staff and a few scrolls on what information you have about dragons so far you move over to the door and open it to see that the dwarf has paitently waited outside for you and your dragon. Once you and Meldiriel step outside of your room the dwarf motions for you to follow him as he then starts to lead you through the twisting and turnings passages of the dwarven hold known as High Dragon Hold. After a few moments Meldiriel jumps up from walking by you and lands on your shoulder as at the moment her legs are smaller than yours and means she has to practically run to keep up with your long strides. Finally after what seems like a ten minute walk you are lead to a large set of doors where the other apprentices are currently stood outside, though of all their newly hatched dragons it is the two-headed dragon on Avariss's shoulder that catches your attention.

Avariss: Gresh'Thoth follows you out of the room before launching himself off of the ground and lands upon your shoulders with surprising ease and what you find strange it that the dragon doesn't weigh much but you guess that it is because at the moment he is still just a hatchling and in a few months his weight will increase dramatically. Following the dwarf guide through the halls to you notice that other apprentices are starting to wake up and go about their daily training with their dragons, some of them are jogging around the keep while others are talking with each other about what they are going to do. Eventually you are head to yet another large metal door where the dwarf stops and motions for you to wait. Standing there you wonder why you have to wait outside but it then becomes clear as the rest of the apprentices of your group join you one by one and you notice that the human named Kell is the last of them to arrive before the two guards infront of the door allow you to pass through it.

Kell: Stepping outside of your room after having shethed and/or holstered all of your weapons you sense that Typhon is about to attack you again and as you turn to look at him you see him leap but instead of slamming into you this time he lands upon your shoulders and curls himself around them to save himself from walking to where ever it is you and him are about to be taken. Walking through the halsl you notice that your dwarven guide remains silent save for the grumbling to himself about you waking up late and that Modeus and Grugnar will most likely ask why you weren't woken up sooner so your lesson could begin. Hearing this you feel guilty that you had drunk some much during the previous evening and decide to cut back your drinking by a few mugs so you don't remain asleep for longer than you have to be. After finally rounding a corner you notice that the entire group of apprentices have gathered infront of a large set of metalic doors and you can clearly see that you are the last to arrive but what strikes you most is that now all of them have dragons either by their side or upon their shoulders. Stepping towards the group the two dwarves either side of the door turn and push it open.

Bjor: Minerva just stares at you before leaping off of the table and lands next to the door as the dwarf outside continues to slam his fist against it to get your attention. When you decide to finally go over to the door the dwarf stares up at you and motions for you to follow him for your first real day of training under the High Lord. After collecting your things you leave your room with Minerva who silently walks next to you as you follow the dwarf through the many long twisting and turning tunnels to where ever the High Lord is currently waiting. As you follow the dwarf he leads you towards a large set of doors where the Dark Elf Avariss is currently stood outside with his own little black dragon currently sat ontop of his shoulders, but what seems odd is that unlike Minerva the dragon sat untop of Avariss's shoulders has two heads instead of one though if you decide to ask him about it then that is up to you. After a few more minutes the rest of the apprentices start to slowly come to meet with you and Avariss one by one as they are lead by their dwarven guides and assume they haven't arrived as a large group all at once from the amount of drinking that had occoured the previous night.

Morrak: Outside of your door is another dwarf of the Ironhammer clan who appears to be still waiting for you as obviously you don't know which of the hundreds and hundreds of rooms the High Lord currently is in. Leading you down the many passages of the dwarven hold you wonder why exactly the Ironhammers serve Modeus and allow him to use one of their few remaining keeps for his place to train the future generations of Dragon Riders. While thinking Valerian continues to walk along side you while looking around at the walls filled with torches, tapastries and paintings of not only the great ancestors of the Ironhammers but also of the Dragon Lord himself in his many battles over the last one-hundred and fifty years that has seen him fight against the forces of the Dark Lands, great and powerful Dragons, the fearsome orcs and goblins that make there way from an unknown land located past the volcanic lands of your deep dwarf cousins. Eventually you are led towards a set of large metal doors where the rest of the apprentices are waiting.

Aseer: After Seraphim devours the food placed infront of her you quickly eat yours before picking up your weapons and armour and putting them on. Once you are done you go and open teh door to your room to see the dwarf is still outside and waiting for you and your dragon for follow him to your first real lessons from the Dragon Lord. As you follow the dwarf through the halls your little dragon seraphim happily walks beside you and looks around at all the other apprentices and larger dragons before you are eventually led to a large set of metal doors but whats interests you more is that infront of those doors are all the apprentices you ate and drank with last night and each one of them has their own dragon but what you notice is that the human named Kell appears to not be there yet and you assume he is still on his way. After walking up to the rest of the group your dwarven guide leaves you with them before walking away to attend to his other duties.

Everyone: The dwarven warriors either side of the large metalic doors which at your best estimate seem to be about fifty feet in height move infront of them and slowly push them open which fills the dark tunnel with blinding white light. As your eyes finally adjust to the sudden change in light levels you can see that you and the others have been brought to a door which leads out onto the side of the mountain, being ushered through the doors by the two guards you step out onto a platform two hundred feet in in all directions and should any of you be brave enough to venture to the sides of the balcony you look over the edge to see that you are atleast half way up the mountain(about 500 feet above sea level) and directly underneith the platform is the tops of the giant forest that partially surronds the keep. Looking up from the tops of the trees you can see that the forest itself stretches beyond what the eye can see. Returning your attention to the platform you can see that some of it marks up a garden with a large variety of plants from all over the known world that can cope in the warm climate, you turn to see that stone benches and tables have been set out within the garden. While observing the magnificence of the platform and garden a eye-splitting roar forces you to look up as a un-believable large shadow sweeps over the platform but while looking up at the sky all you can see is a small black shape against the clear blue eye which you assume to be a bird before it enters into a dive and as it gets closer you can see that it is clearly a dragon with scales of moonless night. As the dragon continues to plummet towards the platform its large scaly wings snap open to bring its fall to a near halt as it then makes a more controlled decent to land on the open part of the platform, those of you who met him the previous even recognise this majestic black ruler of skies to be Zar'Tharon the very dragon that Lord Modeus rides and while thinking of the Dragon Lord you see his armoured form slides off of a strange looking saddle and lands with a clang as metal meets stone.

Striding towards you the High Lord reaches up and removes his helmet which like all of his armour is made from black metal but is instead made into the visage of a snarling black dragon head complete with a set of grey horns, but what is most striking about his fully encompassing helmet is that instead of the normal eye holes there are infact dark purple glass lenses in place to make the Dragon Lord have a rather draconic, almost daemonic appearance until he reaches up and clasps the sides with his claw shaped metalic fingers, giving his helmet a slight twist to he left the High Lord then removes his helmet which allows his long black hair to floow down over his shoulders as he continues to stride you. After removing his helmet Modeus holds it undernieth his left arm before looking at each of you. "I see that all of your dragons have hatched my new apprentices and today we will start with your first real lessons in how to become a dragon rider. I know that you must all have questions about your dragons and are wondering what exactly this apprenticeship will entail, let us go over to the seating area where i shall answer your questions." With motion of his right hand towards the seating area Lord Modeus strides over to the stone benches and takes his seat while waiting for you to follow suit. Once you are all sat down he looks over each of you and your dragons before speaking. "Now if you have any questions please feel free to ask me but i will say try not to talk over each other. I will gladly answer questions about your dragons and what you will be doing in your training." Now is your time to ask the High Lord any questions you might have about pretty much anything so feel free to ask him.

OOC Note: Ask what ever questions you want IC about Dragons, the training, why he picked each of you ect. This will also be a point if you have questions about Lore and History of the rp to ask Modeus, as he has been around for over 300 years.


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## G0arr

It didn’t take long for the Uthiat and the small dragon to finish their food. As the elf moved to the desk and grabbed his book. Before turning he flipped to the page containing the information on each egg, and wrote next to his own entry, ‘Golden Dragon- Meldiriel.’

When Uthiat turned to the door the small dragon was already waiting. Her head was cocked to one side as she looked at the book. “_What is that for,_” the voice spoke again in the elf’s head. Uthiat looked down as he slid the book into its pouch. “This? I have found through the years it is good to document what I have learned. It keeps those things fresh.” “_Strange._” “Not at all! Would you like something added?” “_It’s a strange habit._” As the two moved out into the hallway Uthiat scribbled his note, and smiled. What Modeus had said before was true; it would have to be a partnership.

With the guide ahead the three walked through the snaking hallways. Uthiat smiled as he looked around. The different things that had been used to line these hallways were of good quality, something expected for any keep. He glanced down to see Meldiriel running with a series of hops to keep up. The elf quickly glanced down to his possessions. “Oh dear,” he said. All of his pouches and pockets were full. “_What?_” “Oh, I was trying to see if there was some way that I could carry you, but I believe there is no where that I might hold you.” The small dragon glanced up before quickly changing direction. With a single leap, and a flap of her small wings the gold dragon landed on the elf’s shoulder. “Oh,” Uthiat said, “Well then. If you are comfortable there…” “_I am fine._” “Then let us continue.”

After several minuets they reached a large set of doors. Standing outside was the dark elf Avariss. After the display the previous night Uthiat was sure this one was a warlock. As he looked at the elf with the same half smile he saw something move on his shoulder. There sat a twin headed dragon. “My that is quite a unique specimen you have. I do hope you are feeling better than last night Avariss. May I ask what your little friend’s name is?”


---


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## Midge913

Andaleth followed his dwarven guide and once again was amazed at the size of High Dragon Hold. He had been here close to a weeks time and still he couldn't tell one corridor from another inside its massive halls. Perhaps more time would familiarize him with the place. He found it most irksome that he needed to rely on someone else to show him the way to and fro, like he was some sort of ignorant child. None-the-less he couldn't help but thank each of his guides at the end of each journey out into the Keep. They were just doing their jobs and I am sure they didn't enjoy leading around slack-jawed apprentices any more than he liked to be led. 

Andaleth could feel Sirrush's weight on his shoulders and it was a comfortable burden. He knew that in no time his dragon would be too large for it, but he enjoyed the sense of bonding all the same. He heard the rasp of steel and turning he saw that Sirrush was drawing and then sheathing his short sword with his tail. "Fancy a duel?" Andaleth quipped. Sirrush looked at him with an exasperated expression, before returning to playing with the sword. Andaleth couldn't help but marvel at the strength of Sirrush's tail. Only hours old he was lifting an object that weighted almost as much as he did with just his tail. Surely at full size Sirrush could level buildings with a swing of that mighty tail. Food for thought indeed. 

Rounding a corner in the hallway, Andaleth looked ahead and saw that the apprentices he had dined with last night all assemebled in front of a large metallic doorway. He thanked his guide and approached them. He noticed that all of the assembled appprentices now had hatched dragons and he felt good for them. He hoped that each was as happy with their drake as he was with Sirrush. It seemed that only Kell was missing from the group. 

Sliding off to the side he told Sirrush about each one of the apprentices. He told him their names, as well as the names of the dragons that he knew, and Sirrush simply sat and took in all the information. Andaleth noted that Sirrush payed particular attention to Avariss and his new dragon, a strang two-headed breed, and asked Sirrush what was wrong, noting the look of concern. _*"The other warlock that you mentioned?"*_ Sirrush asked. The question loud in Andaleth's mind. "Yes," he replied softly," he is formidable but I am not sure that he is stable. It may be that the corruption of fel magic has already taken him. It is my hope to avoid such a fate for me, as well as for you little one, and that Modeus is able to find a stop gap." Sirrush nodded in agreement. 

Kell was the last apprentice to arrive in before the massive doors and as he did the Dwarven warriors to either side of the large portal, slowly begin to push the 50 foot high doors open. As they did Andaleth found himself suddenly blinded as dark tunnel was filled with white light from what ever lay beyond. Andaleth stood still for a moment until his eyes adjusted to the light and when he could see he slowly stepped through the doorway with the other apprentices. Andaleth gasped at the beauty that surrounded him and he felt Sirrush rumble in appreciation on his shoulder. As he took in the large stone plaform, a good two hundred feet on all sides, and moving to the edge he saw that they were high up on the mountain, the tops of the trees in the great forest below barely brushed the undersides of the platform. Andaleth marvelled at the granduer of the unbroken forest. "Take that in little one," he said to Sirrush,"Where I grew up in the city you didn't see trees like those. There is power there, a force of nature that has weathered the course of time." 

Stepping back from the edge drew a disgruntled growl from Sirrush, who was apparently enjoying the morning breeze on his face, but Andaleth felt the need to explore more. The haze of his night of drinking was lifting in the cool air, and his natural curiosity was again getting the better of him. Looking around he saw that a large portion of the platform made up a garden. Not being a gardener himself Andaleth didn't know what each of the plants were, but he could tell that there was a large variety, some of which he had never seen before. Here and there amongst the gardens path were stone tables and benches pleasingly spaced around. Obviously this was a place of relaxation. 

Suddenly Andaleth felt Sirrush tense on his shoulders and a split second later an ear splitting roar rang out from high above them. Andaleth watched as the giant form of a massive black dragon plummeted from the sky, wings snapping open to slow its decent as it reached the platform. From Zar'Tharon's back Modeus slid from a strange looking saddle to the ground. His armored feet clanging against the polished stone of the platform. Andaleth could almost feel the earning pouring off of Sirrush, because his own feelings were the same. Seeing Dragon and Rider, now since his own egg had hatched, filled Andaleth with the desire fly. To join Modeus and Zar'Tharon as masters of the skies. Andaleth smiled at the image of himself, clad in armor, soaring amongst the stars, the majestic white beauty of Sirrush's scales reflecting the light. 


Modeus approached them, removed his helm, and regarded his assembled apprentices. "I see that all of your dragons have hatched my new apprentices and today we will start with your first real lessons in how to become a dragon rider. I know that you must all have questions about your dragons and are wondering what exactly this apprenticeship will entail, let us go over to the seating area where i shall answer your questions." Andaleth watched as his master, walked toward the area with the stone seating, and gestured for his pupils to join him. "Now," Modeus continued,"if you have any questions please feel free to ask me but i will say try not to talk over each other. I will gladly answer questions about your dragons and what you will be doing in your training."

"I have only one question right now my lord," Andaleth said looking longingly at the sky,"when do we get to fly?"


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## Yru0

Aseer couldn't help but gaze as the meal was devoured by Seraphim, any fine mannered man would be horrified at the mindless slaughter of the dragon's food. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for the prey of such a beast during a hunt, Aseer sighed at the thought, it had been quite some time since he had gone on a true and honest hunt with his fellow friends, perhaps Modeus will allow him sometime, with his dragon at his heel. The idea caught with Aseer, Seraphim and Aseer, greatest hunters of the lands! Aseer let out a slight chuckle, Come on Sera, time we humoured that dwarf and allowed him to get on with his life."

The mountain dwarf led the duo out to the meeting point with the other apprentices, Aseer marvelled at the gathered beasts and men, _Truly a force to be reckoned with, more than enough to conquer a small country once our steeds are grown,_ Aseer frowned at the thought, he didn't truly trust his mentor, not yet at least, but the ancient rider had every right to be given the benefit of the doubt, after all, was an army not what they were meant to be? Nonetheless Aseer decided to stay on his toes. However, the rumbling of the mighty doors and the pristine scene that lay beyond cast all thoughts from the ranger's head.

Aseer peered over the edge of the platform, his balance honed through years of balancing on a saddle, but the heights were dizzying and Aseer decided to let safety guide his choices for now. Seraphim, take a look at all this! You haven't yet laid eyes on a forest yet have you young one? Someday we will be masters of the air and able to deal out rightful justice to all those deserving. Some day we may hunt in that landscape, and you will get a chance to make the creatures of the land fear your presence! Aseer laughed out when the little dragon hesitated at the edge of the platform, wanting a closer look than her precarious perch on Aseer's shoulder, but obviously not yet aquaintanced with heights. A dragon afraid of heights! he joked, Seraphim responded with a low growl and a threatening glance that didn't seem to full of confidence at Aseer. However, Seraphim soon became all bussiness, her muscles tensing and she appeared ready to pounce, Aseer soon worried about Typhon, the hyper-aggressive beast of his friend, but the gargantuan shadow that blotted the sun soon proved to be the source of Seraphim's concern, and Aseer's awe.

The mighty dragon and it's rider descended from the heavens as Angels of Death, the void-black colour of scales and armour giving them a truly formidable appearance, Aseer couldn't help but see himself in that position, truly the riders would be a mighty power. "I see that all of your dragons have hatched my new apprentices and today we will start with your first real lessons in how to become a dragon rider. I know that you must all have questions about your dragons and are wondering what exactly this apprenticeship will entail, let us go over to the seating area where i shall answer your questions." Aseer heard Andaleth ask about flying, the thought both terrified and exhilirated him, but Aseer was more concerned about another fact "When do we learn how to slay our foes, my arrows won't make a lick of difference in a fight and you know it, so I also assume you have a solution."


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## Santaire

Extraxi walked behind his guide with a grin on his face. He was exhilarated at the prospect of his first lesson in fighting alongside a dragon and would not have swapped places with anyone for all the gold in the land. He could feel an icy cold beginning to spread onto his neck and over his face and he wondered whether it had been a good idea to let Glacies sit up there. He shrugged half heartedly and continued walking anyway. ‘What is the matter Elf?’ came Glacies voice in his head. “Just wondering if it was a good idea to let you up there,” Extraxi responded. ‘Ah well, it is too late now, I am not moving,’ came the dragon’s playful reply ‘In any case you do not seem to be getting frostbite’ it continued regardless. Extraxi wondered about that, was it something to do with his dragon, could members of its kind protect their riders from frost bite?

He came to a set of massive double doors that had already opened. Aseer, Uthiat and Avariss stood upon the terrace overlooking the forest and Extraxi watched as a huge black dragon came flying down from the heavens. Once it had landed and Modeus had dismounted and removed his helmet the others asked questions of the dragon lord. Extraxi waited till they had finished before asking his own. “Can my dragon protect me from the dangers of frost bite Lord Modeus?” he asked respectfully.

(Sorry about the pathetic quality but this was put together in a hurry)


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## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

As Valerian jumped onto his right shoulder, Morrak turned and walked towards the door. They walk in silence for a while in halls Morrak had never seen before, but this was not a surprise. The hold was huge. He thought for a while, finally asking Duergen “Why do the Ironhammer’s allow Modeus into their halls? Why is it that we allow him to live here and train his apprentices here? Why do we give him food and lodge and all that? Aren’t dwarves and dragons enemies? Why…” “Morrak,” Duergan said, “It works better to ask one question at a time. But anyway, He is a greatly revered being, and many clans and races have begged him to accept their lodging. He chose us for our perfect location, strong hold, and because not enough dwarves and too many others wanted to be rides. He wanted to even things up a bit. He wanted dwarves like you to become apprentices. Don’t ask me why, I don’t pretend to understand his motives. But that’s why.” “Not its not. Why did the Ironhammer’s let him stay? Not why did he choose us?” “For pretty much the same reasons. We wanted Dwarven rides, and the honour of holding all of the dragons. Dragons are powerful weapons, and they can turn the tide of any war.” “Always the scholar, aren’t ya?”. “I don’t agree. Dragons are not just weapons. They have thoughts and feelings, and much more intelligence than your race”. Duergan jumped, and Morrak laughed heartily at his reaction.

“What was that,” asked Duergan. “That was my new partner, Valerian”. “Then they can think? I thought that was a rumour”. “Of course we can!”, exclaimed Valerian, using his standard but very eerie telepathic communication. “Do you take us for mindless beasts?” “Think of it this way, old friend,” said Morrak. "If they couldn’t think, why would they attack us? Not to hunt, theirs easier pickings elsewhere. Not for safety, attacks are never safe. So why?” “For gold, of course”. “Exactly! No beast could desire gold. It takes thought for that. Although that is a terrible explanation of dragon motives, I must say,” he hastily added, looking at Valerian. Valerian seemed to chuckle, and the rest of the way they walked in silence. Valerian seemed very interested in the tapestries along the wall, particularly one of Modeus’ first battle.

They finally reached a large set of doors that Morrak recognizes as those of the landing pad Modeus had taken to using, as cleaning it was a common punishment. As they walked up they saw most of the other apprentices and Duergan left. Eventually the rest of the apprentices filed in, with Kell coming last. Valerian picked up snitches of conversation from the others as they waited, but Morrak only heard murmurs, not enough to discern it. One thing Valerian heard was the words “fel magic… taken… fate… me… little one… Modeus… stop…” from Andaleth, no doubt speaking to his dragon. He tried to breach Adaleth’s dragon’s mind, but he couldn’t. He was mentally weak still, as he had been alive for mere hours, and although not by much the other dragon was older, so he stopped his efforts.

A shadow loomed overhead, and Valerian looked up to see a large black dragon. Morrak sensed his discomfort, and so murmured quietly, “Still, little one”. “Why should I take orders from you, dwarf?” “You shouldn’t, dragon, but I wasn’t giving any”. “So now I’m Dragon?” "So now I’m Dwarf?” but Morrak said the last in his head so that only Valerian could hear it without even noticing. Valerian seemed to laugh, and said in Morrak mind “I think I could grow to like you, both for your humour and for how fast you learn important bonding skills”. “What do you mean?” asked Morrak, again in his head. “Well, right now you’re talking in your head”. “WHAT???” he asked loudly and out loud. “Well, so much for that”… All the other apprentices gave him strange looks, and he was saved strange questions by Modeus landing. He walked over to the apprentices and removed his very impressive helm from he equally impressive armour.

"I see that all of your dragons have hatched my new apprentices and today we will start with your first real lessons in how to become a dragon rider. I know that you must all have questions about your dragons and are wondering what exactly this apprenticeship will entail, let us go over to the seating area where i shall answer your questions". Valerian couldn’t help but be a little scared at the way Modeus looked at him, like he was sizing up cattle. "Now if you have any questions please feel free to ask me but I will say try not to talk over each other. I will gladly answer questions about your dragons and what you will be doing in your training". As he finished and looked around expectantly, Andaleth asked, quite stupidly in Valerian’s opinion but echoing Morrak’s thoughts exactly when they could fly. Valerian attempted to project his voice to all assembled, and attained remarkable success. “When us dragons are big enough, of course”. “Aye, but when will that be?” asked Morrak.


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## Angel of Blood

Kell opened his door to find a dwarf standing outside impatiently, evidently the one who had woken him up. "Yeh took your time didn't you lad" He muttered at Kell. He looked the dwarf up and down and said "Oh i am sorry to have kept you, did you have a door to go and guard somewhere?"

Smiling he looked back into his room to call Typhon only to see him leaping through mid air towards him. He braced himself for the imminent impact of the dragon, but instead felt Typhon land lightly upon his shoulder and neatly settle himself on his shoulders. Kell relaxed and said to him "Comfortable there are we?". In his head he heard Typhon say *'Hardly the word i would choose, but it will suffice'*. Kell grinned at the answer, perhaps his dragon could be likeable after all.

As he followed the dwarf down the corridor he could here him grumbling about Kell being late and how Modeus would likely want to know why. Kell mused that his drinking the previous night was probably the cause, but he wasn't too concerned about his tardyness, though he did concede to perhaps cut back on the drink for now. He continued to follow the dwarf and noticed how Typhon spent the time looking around the corridors, likely thinking where he could pounce at Kell from in the future.

They rounded a corner and came to see the rest of the apprentices assembled before a great door, clearly waiting for his arrival. He smirked at them all and wryly said "My apologies my _esteemed_ colleagues, hope you haven't been waiting too long". He also noticed the Avariss had rejoined them after his anticts the night before, he now like the rest of them had a dragon, but his appeared to have two heads. "Sorcery" he muttered under his breath. *'What was that?'* He heard Typhon say within his head. He quietly said "There are some individuals in this world who choose to delve into dark arts and foul powers. They are damned sould and should be wiped off the face of this world. *He* is one such individual, and would you look, his dragon has two heads, no doubt as a result of his corrupting influence. Keep a good eye on them Typhon, there is someone i have no qualms about you attacking". Typhon sat a little straighter on his shoulder and sent *'Gladly'*.

The doors were thrown open and the tunnel was filled with brilliant light from the outside. Blinking, Kell and the others emerged onto a large platform that came out of the side of the mountain. Kell sauntered over to the edge and peered down over the edge. They were at a very large height above the expansive forrest that stretched out from the keep. He then felt a large rush of wind at his back and turned to see Zar'Tharon land on the platform and Modeus descend from the back of the enormous drake. Modeus indicated to them that they should ask any questions that they needed answering. He strolled over to hear Andaleth ask when they could start to fly. He let out a short laugh and said "You have noticed the disproportionate size of your dragon to yourself haven't you? By all means have a go, but i imagine your dragon wouldn't be too keen on the idea."


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## revan4559

Everyone: Modeus remains sat down on the bench and listens to all of you as you bombard him with questions and once you are all finishes he starts to answer them so that all of you can hear. "You will all be able to learn how to fly when i decide to allow you, at the moment your dragons are all far too small for you to ride and it will take around two years for them to grow to the size that you can ride them. However by themselves they will be able to fly by the time they are six months old. To overcome this very large gap between now and the time when you can ride them I have hatched other dragons over the course of the few years I have been preparing to take apprentices. Each one of these other dragons are large enough to be used to learn how to ride but like i said. You will learn how to ride when i decide you are all ready." The Dragon Lord then pushes himself up and off of the bench before walking around the garden with all of you in tow as he continues. "While also learning how to fly to will be taught how to fight from the back of a dragon so Aseer, you will learn how to slay with bow and arrow from the back of a dragon. I shall tell you all of this now: Fighting from the back of a dragon is one of the safest places on the battlefield, as you have a great vantage point from where to fire your bows and guns along with casting any spells. However this does pose a problem for those of you who do not use either." Modeus's eyes shift to look at Morrak and Bjor. "But I you shall be taught how to lance from the saddle like Knights."

Modeus then continues to wander around the garden before finally stopping infront of Zar'tharon and turns to face all of you. "As for your question Extraxi, Ice dragons are able to hold off the cold by coating their rides in their own ice and frost though I would not suggest doing it for long periods of time as it is possible for you to lose all sense of feeling and touch." The Dragon Lord then shifts his purple gaze over each and everyone one of you and your dragons. "Now I am interested in what kind of dragons you think have hatched for you and I want you to tell me as much as you know about the dragon who is your partner so I known what level of Knowledge you are all at before starting your real training. So one by one tell me what you think your dragon is and what you know about it."

OOC: I think i posted some information in the recruitment thread about each dragon, that is some basic lore about the dragon types so feel free to use it. But dont copy it directly, i want it in your own words.


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## komanko

OOC: Didn't notice that you already updated. Damn, I'll read your update and add to my post later.
OOC 2: OK, edited.


As they began following their guide, the dwarf Avariss heard the door shut behind them. "*It appears that a large portion of this fort is magically controlled.*" Avariss muttered to himself and he heard that his dragon flared his nostrils in approval. 

Avariss could hear the scales of the dragon sliding against the floor as his tail trailed behind him, he could actually sense its amazement as it scoured the surroundings and swallowed them in eager to see more. Avariss could relate to that, he felt exactly the same just yesterday when he passed through those halls for the first time.

Suddenly something heavy landed on his shoulder and threatened to tip him of balance. He quickly moved himself to the right to counter the heavy weight that was forced on his left shoulder. Once he stabilized himself he looked and saw his dragon. It appeared that it did not want to be walking behind Avariss. 

Sighing Avariss continued walking, "*You are a lazy one aren't you*?" He sarcastically asked the dragon, not really waiting for an answer. The heads simply bit his neck harmlessly as an answer and Avariss could not help but laugh. 

As Avariss continued walking he realized that the dragon was not weighing as much as he expected it to. It appeared to be much lighter... Thinking about it a little more Avariss decided that dragons grow in an accelerated rate which means that during the following weeks the dragon will grow a lot. Hopefully it will stop looking like a small harmless lizard.

The dwarf walked swiftly, his steps numerous and quick to compensate for his legs length and size. Avariss realized that he was beginning to trail behind him so he picked up the pace. He began hearing movements and talking around and when he looked he saw fellow apprentices waking up from their sleep and others who were already in the middle of their daily routine. In a way this fort resembled some sort of a monastery. A monastery for dragons, the thought amused him.

After about another seven minutes passed the dwarf stopped in front of two huge metal doors. The dwarf than looked at Avariss and told him to wait. Avariss thanked him as he went back to his business.

He looked around, none of the other apprentices where here yet, he was all alone for now. A thought that maybe Modeus has ordered him to be separated from any group due to Voice's violent outburst yesterday came to his mind. Avariss dismissed it, he was sure that Modeus was more intelligent than that and that he knew that isolating him will not solve anything. 

While he waited for someone to arrive and guide him Avariss noted the fact that the fort was filled with huge metal doors. Most of them reinforced with iron or wood it was nearly as if Modues feared that a dragon will break free any moment or on the contrary someone will try and make his way in from the outside. From a different point of view this place was as much a prison as it was a fortress.

While he pondered he did not notice that the others were arriving. Soon enough he was no longer alone as all the apprentices who fought with him last night arrived here and waited. Each of them had a dragon, all of the dragons special in their own way yet as much as he looked he did not see any dragon which had two heads. He noted that he will have to inquire about it later.

Someone approached him, spoke to him yet Avariss did not hear he was to concentrated on his thoughts. When he stopped thinking for a moment he saw the mage from yesterday. Uthiat and heard the end of his sentence,"...feeling better than last night Avariss. May I ask what your little friend’s name is?” 

Avariss guessed what his question meant and answered, "*It depends on what you are referring to mage. Are you referring to the amount of drinking I did last night or something else? As for the pest that is having the time of his life on my shoulder, his name is supposedly Gresh'Thoth. One name for each head, a little long but that's the first thing that came to my head*." Avariss shut himself up quickly after realizing that he was talking too much, he assumed that Uthiat was not simply asking him that out of nicety...

Finally everyone arrived. A few moments later a dozen of dwarfs began pushing the huge metallic door. They sheer weight of the thing must have been immense if it took so many of them to push open the door. While the door was opening Avariss turned around to look at the gathered apprentices. There were several new ones which he had not seen in the fight yesterday yet before speaking or introducing himself something caught his eye. The hall around him became brighter for some reason, he could feel the changes in his sensitive nerves. He turned around to see where the light was coming from just to be blinded by a huge wave of light which was emitted out of the now opened door. 

He cursed as he rubbed his eyes in pain, the transition between light and dark was far too quick for him and his eyes began to tear. After a moment he slowly opened his eyes letting them adjust to the light that now filled the room and blinded him.

When finally his eyes adjusted he could see where they were all brought. The door which was now wide open revealed bright blue skies. They were apparently brought to a side cliff on the mountain one which extended like a platform and allowed them to walk around it. From this point on the mountain nearly everything was visible, the vast surroundings were nearly overwhelming from this point of view. So much to see and yet so little time...

Avariss could hear Gresh'Thoth moving anxiously on top of his shoulder, he too was as excited as Avariss was. He moved towards the edge and looked down, they were far above the ground. Too far. For a moment he imagined himself falling down and shattering against the solid rocky ground his body broken by the impact into many pieces. A swift death. A crooked smile spread on his face at this thought and for a moment he thought that maybe it would be for the best. He breathed in the fresh mountain air and calmed down, he stepped away from the edge and moved back towards the group.

A terrifying roar filled the air and resounded, magnified by the echo from the mountain range. It seemed like hundreds of daemons have made their way into the world in one big blast. Soon after the roar died out a large shadow suddenly engulfed the platform. Avariss looked up and saw a relatively small dot up in the sky. That magnificent sound could not have come from this dot, or could it? That small dot began falling from the sky and it was headed towards them. That small dot soon began growing into a massive scale and Avariss finally realized what it was. 

A dragon, a black one like Gresh'Thoth. Its scales reflected the bright sun perfectly. The dragon was diving directly towards them face forward. It began picking up more and more speed until it was moving faster than the blink of an eye. It was already close to impacting at the platform when he suddenly spread his wings. A huge booming sounds came as the air was suddenly blocked. Moments later the dragon began descending slowly towards a person free part of the platform.

It landed smoothly and a moment later an armoured figure hopped down from the dragon the metal armor clinging as it hit the stone below. The armoured figure strode towards them and than removed the helm to reveal Modeus. For some reason the helm made Avariss forget that he already saw that armor in the past. It did not matter though he knew what it looked like now.

Once Modeus was in speaking distance from them he began speaking saying that he noticed that all their dragons have hatched something which Avariss did not bother noting. It was obvious that at some point this would happen and thus he didn't bother trying to find that out. He than said that today will be their very first real mission. Before explaining it he said that he will answer their questions but before answering he signaled them to follow as he moved towards the stone benches and sat down. 

Several apprentices began asking questions. Avariss did not bother, he knew that he will find an answer to his question sooner or later and it did not really matter to him. His dragon was different and that was the end of the story nothing could or would be done about it. Although one thing bothered him slightly and he decided to ask it anyway although it was sort of rude. He waited for the others to finish before speaking, "*Tell me High – Lord. Why is this place built like a prison? You might say it is a fortress but the amount of doors and barricades in here aren't justified, if it is the right word for that. It seems like you are trying to prevent escape.*"

Modeus began answering the apprentices questions, he spoke about flying, fighting and even the abilities of the ice dragons to coat their raiders in some sort of a protective shell. It was interesting information yet it held no real meaning to Avariss. When the lord finished answering the questions he asked them a question of his own, he wanted to know what they knew about their own dragons and if they knew what breed it was.

Seeing that no one was keen to answer that question Avariss decided to speak first, "*An easy answer in my case. Obviously a black dragon. Due to his colour first of all and also because of his nature. It is not the first time I see dragons, particularly not the first time I see black dragons. Their instincts are sharp as of all dragons and they are keen to destruction yet can be wise at the same time. It all depends on their age and personality which of course changes from one to another*." He paused for a moment and than spoke again "*Some of it is simply a deduction so I might be wrong*." He shrugged and than continued "*From what I saw dragons of course can breath fire yet it varies in a way for each breed of dragons. They live long and rarely die of old age most probably die while fighting with each other as other animals tend to do*." He looked at Gresh'Thoth for a moment seeing that he saw trying to bite off his ear. "*Apparently they have no real boundaries, they do what they want when they want unless they are thought otherwise from young age like every house animal*." He than pushed both of the heads away from his ear and the dragon stopped. "*This creatures seem to want as much attention as possible too. One thing that I did notice while reading from a book in my home several decades back is that unlike some theories dragons are hot blooded and not cold blooded like reptiles*." He did not state which home he was talking about yet he knew that he was talking about his family's house and not the house in the dark lands. He than grabbed his dragon with both hands each hand against each scaly neck. He did not choke it he simply held it in front of him and spoke. "*Like most creatures dragons can be killed in a variety ways*." He said with a cold and calculated tone. "*While young their necks can be snapped later on when they are too big they can be harder to kill yet enough arrows or magic wounds will bring a beast down. Getting in close with one of them is not smart and ranged weaponry is probably recommended while dealing with this magnificent creatures. Like all creatures they are the most vulnerable when they are young yet unlike other beasts dragons think beyond the simple need for food and if you want to kill one do it when he is young don't leave him alive or he might come back to hunt you for vengeance*." He than finished speaking and put Gresh'Thoth back on his shoulder and petted each head for a moment.


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## Midge913

"You will all be able to learn how to fly when i decide to allow you, at the moment your dragons are all far too small for you to ride and it will take around two years for them to grow to the size that you can ride them. However by themselves they will be able to fly by the time they are six months old. To overcome this very large gap between now and the time when you can ride them I have hatched other dragons over the course of the few years I have been preparing to take apprentices. Each one of these other dragons are large enough to be used to learn how to ride but like i said. You will learn how to ride when i decide you are all ready."

Andaleth felt a little foolish at his daydreaming. Obviously Sirrush was much to small to carry him. He did feel a small jolt of exhilaration at the fact that there were surrogate dragons for them to learn to ride on in the mean time. He also knew that he was fixating on the prospect of flight to draw his attention away from the fact that he would also be working on his abilities with Fel magic. He felt naseuated at the fact that he would have to channel more and more of the stuf through his body, subjecting himself and Sirrush to the taint that it carried. Andaleth felt trapped by the abilities that he was born with. On the one hand, wielding the magics would make him and Sirrush powerful beyond belief, but at what cost? The corruption of his body and the damnation of his soul? The more he dwelled on these thoughts, the more Andaleth had to fight of the feelings of helplessness that he had felt when he first discovered that his abilities were as much a curse as they were a gift. 

Andaleth heard Modeus speaking to other apprentices but it was as if he was listening from a great distance. Feelings of doubt and turmoil pulling him away from the moment. "Andaleth?" he heard a voice ringing through the fog of depression that threatened to engulf him. He then felt the sharp slap of Sirrush's tail against his shoulder. "What ails you human?" Though Sirrush's tone was aloof, Andaleth could feel his concern through their forming bond. Quietly Andaleth answered his drake, "It is nothing little one. It is just that I feel that my abilities in the Fel arts will damn us both." 

Sirrush curled more tightly around Andaleth's shoulders, obviously a gesture of comfort, "That may be." He replied. "But we will take many enemies to the bowels of hell with us." Looking into Sirrush's face Andaleth could see the obvious joy that thought brought to his young dragon, and he couldn't help but smile at Sirrush's tenacity. He scratched the drake on the back of the head and turned his attention back to the group. 

"Now I am interested in what kind of dragons you think have hatched for you and I want you to tell me as much as you know about the dragon who is your partner so I known what level of Knowledge you are all at before starting your real training. So one by one tell me what you think your dragon is and what you know about it?" Modeus asked. Avariss answered first and Andaleth was impressed with his knowledge of the dragon that accompanied him, though he found the comments about how to kill dragons oddly placed. 

"Well my lord, Sirrush here is obviously a White Dragon," Andaleth answered. "I have found that he has a great sense of humor and is wise. He sees the truth in things and is more than willing to share his opinions on the things that he sees. He is definitely not as rambunctious as Typhoon and he has a much calmer disposition, but there is a quiet sense of danger about him. As to the other things that I know about him, I would echo some of what Avariss already mentioned. Sirrush will live a very long time and the older he gets the more powerful he will become."


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## Santaire

(OOC. I will be gone for three weeks on friday)

Extraix nodded his head at the high lord's words. After Andaleth and Avariss had finished speaking he spoke aloud saying. "My dragon is obviously an ice dragon," pointing to the frost covering his shoulder and most of his face "and causes extreme cold wherever it treads. I know little of dragons that has not already been said and thus I cannot contribute much to this discussion but I do know that, while almost all dragons breathe fire ice dragons breathe ice and that a two headed dragon is a rare thing to see. That is all I know I am afraid," Extraxi finished and waited for the Modeus' answer and to hear the knowledge of his fellow apprentices...


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat continued his questioning gaze as Avariss spoke. “I believe it was the amount you drank. Interesting name I might add. That is a rather interesting specimen.” He felt a sudden prick from his shoulder. “I’m so sorry where are my manners. This,” he motioned toward his own shoulder, “is Meldiriel.” Avariss had already quieted himself. Something about his stance and the look on his face said there was little more that the warlock wished to say.

Modeus made his grand entrance. The questions had begun. Uthiat had taken a seat and quickly began to take notes. Of the questions he heard there was one that still held sway in his mind. 

_“So one by one tell me what you think your dragon is and what you know about it."_
When it came time Uthiat spoke. “I believe that this little one,” he held up Meldiriel, “Is a gold dragon. By most accounts this means her egg came from the Mountains of Kel’Karadorn. She has quite a healthy appetite. From what I have learned of her she appears to be quite inquisitive, and rather ‘proper’ thus far. Something I would not have expected from a newborn of almost any species. Oh according to current theories dragons are warm blooded as Avariss has mentioned making them unique. They are reptilian in appearance, yet not cold blooded and as such have been placed in their own unique classification of ‘Wyrm’ according to scholars.” There was a sudden pain in the high elf’s hand. “Oh yes how rude of me. Her name is Meldiriel.” 
_“Can you let me down.”_ The dragon asked. “Oh yes sorry,” Uthiat replied. 

“Most of what else I can tell you is a mirror of what Avariss has said,” the high elf turned back to his dragon. As he looked at her for a moment his eyes shot back to Greh’Thoth. 
“I have one last question of our training if you would indulge me Lord Modeus. For those of us with magical aptitude what additional arts are we expected to learn? I know that I will need to learn the sword, or the bow to a small degree but what else will be expected?”


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## Yru0

Aseer listened as the other apprentices answered the lord's questioins before offering his own reply, although he took note of the man with the two-headed beast's answer, the calm and calculated way he explained of killing a dragon was too cold for Aseer's taste. Aseer summed up the man, noticing that he had not seen him at the feast the night before, "Now, what kind of man willingly misses a banquet of that splendour?" he asked so that only Seraphim and himself could hear. Seraphim replied with a low growl in the direction of the wizard, _He is threatening hatchling-death and egg-murder, he is no friend of us._ Aseer laughed quietly at the thought that appeared to be whispered from everywhere, "Come now, he himself is an apprentice, if his own dragon has chosen him and put its trust in him, then he can't be as threatening to your kind as what we trying to be!" At this Seraphim returned to a more passive posture, although Aseer couldn't help but notice the suspicious gaze she shot at the man, _I don't trust him, but I won't bite his head off quite yet._

Aseer shook his head at the dragon, sighing as he turned to address the lord's question. "Well M'Lord, I don't think there's much I can add to this other than what I have gathered from Seraphim herself! She is obviously a red dragon, a sub-species quite imaginitavely named might I add, and has the potential to grow into a mighty beast fit to wrought terror and despair on our foes! Seraphim rose proudly as he stated this, putting on her most ferocious growl that Aseer later remarked required quite a bit more practise to master. But when Aseer winked at her, she seemed to shrink down as if the his next statement was inevetible, "Although Serpahim is quite a young hatchling, not even able to produce the tiniest spark! She is also quite aggressive although not as overtly as Typhon, she seems quite suspicious of those around her" _Human you inconsiderate welp!_ She also seems to be quite touchy on her feelings, perhaps dragons are, contrary to our knowledge, quite the emotional creatures, and this one at least is quite sentimental. " _I AM NOT...!_ " Now, as I stated, I'm not to well versed on these creatures, so I'm mainly using my interactions and observations of my own Seraphim to reach these conclusions..." at this Seraphim let out her loudest raw and lept at Aseer who couldn't stop himself bawling in hysterical laughter.


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## Angel of Blood

Hearing they would be learning to fly sooner rather than later was welcome news to Kell, however the additional news that they would be taught to fight like knights on horseback wasn’t as welcome. Kell was never interested or enamoured by the knightly orders, nor there fighting style. He hadn’t really thought until now about how he and Typhon would fight together. He assumed he might have fought on the ground whilst Typhon supported him or simply let Typhon do the work as he controlled him from his back.

Either way it mattered little at the moment, Modeus questioned them on what they knew about dragons and the type of dragon they now owned. Avariss launched into a long winded speech, divulging all the knowledge he had about drakes, which was admittedly quite a lot. The others all joined in with different information and what they knew about them. Kell hesitated however, he had no idea about them or their various types, all he had known before were the red and blue dragons that attacked his homelands. The only information he knew about Typhon was what Modeus had told him the previous night. 

“Well, unlike the others it would seem, i have no intimate knowledge of dragons or their various breeds. All I know Lord, is what you told me before, that Typhon is a shadow dragon. An ambush predator, something that had become clearly apparent since i met my little friend. But we are slowly reaching an understanding; well i hope we have anyway.”


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## revan4559

Everyone: Modeus nods his head as he listen to each of you talk about what you know about your dragon before he pushes himself off of the bench and shifts his gaze over each of you. "To answer your questions Uthait, those of you with magical abilities will be trained to further them to levels currently beyong your comprihension. As for those of you with no magical aptitude then i shall teach you how to resist spells and protect yourself and your dragon from them. Now lets move onto our first true lesson of your apprenticeship. Yesterday I threw you into battle with some of the many creatures i keep caged beneith this mountain and I know you all have questions about what is actually locked up and why I formed the dragon riders, so in short your first real lesson will be a History lesson about why I am doing this and what you will be expected to do in the near future. But for now I have something for Bjor, Kell, Andaleth and Aseer." Modeus then withdraws three red vials from one of the pouches on his belt and hands one to each of you three. "You three along with all other Humans and Northmen pose a problem when I pick you as dragon riders due to your races short lives so with this potions you will be able to extend your normal life time of 70-80 years to about 300-400 years like the Mages and Warlocks of your race are able to do." Modeus then turns away from you all and motions with his left hand for all of you to follow him as he turns and makes his way to another set of large doors on the mountain face.

As you follow Modeus back inside of the mountain you notice that these hallways and stair cases lead further up the mountain and are better lit than the dwarven tunnels, some of you may notice that all the craftmanship in these halls are distinctly elven meaning that it appears the upper half of the mountain was built by elves for elves and this could possibly be where Modeus himself resides as not even Andaleth who has been here for almost two weeks has learnt where Modeus lives within the mountain. "But before i start on a history lesson Im interested in what people are saying about me and what kind of myths and legands have sprung up about my previous life and where from the Dark Elf lands i hail from. So why don't each of you tell me what you have heard?"

OOC: Sorry for the long wait for the update. I'll be pm'ing you each seperately of what you would of heard about Modeus as obviously different races and places will have different legands about him. Angel of Blood, Bjor, Midge and Yru0 also don't forget to post what you think about Modeus giving you those potions.


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## komanko

OOC: You are mistaken, I did not need a potion I am not human 

He looked at everyone while they spoke, most of them did nothing but resound his own words. They were ignorant or simply foolish. A pity. Those thoughts were not his, he could feel that in his heart. He suspected that Voice was gathering his strength again and he was not dormant as Avariss hoped. 

Though his remarks were true, none of them said anything of significance that Avariss did not say already. A thought even came to his mind that maybe none of them knew anything and simply used the lousy excuse that they know the same things that Avariss knew, if that was true than it was extremely pathetic…

Avariss saw Modeus paying attention to what was said and when everyone finished speaking he noticed how he gazed at each one. He was sure that while his gaze lingered on Avariss he could spot hate in his eyes but was it really there? Or did Voice drive his mind into paranoia? 

After that Modeus pushed himself up, the sound of armor against stone could be heard as he rose, a mysterious smile spread on his face when he answered Uthait’s question. He said that those of magical abilities would be trained to further those abilities even more. Avariss hoped that it was true, he felt insignificant and powerless near the dragon raider. Modeus also added that those with no magical aptidue will be trained in how to resist spells and sorcery. “This is not good…” He could hear a voice resonating from the depths of his mind.

It seemed that Modeus was not going to answer Avariss’s earlier question as he quickly moved to a different subject. He began feeling as if Modeus is ignoring him on purpose. How was it possible that he did not even congratulate him over such an extensive knowledge of the winged creatures? He felt a tide of hate rising within him and struggled to suppress it. He could feel again that this thoughts were not entirely his own and that they were driven into his mind from something else, something hate filled and dark.

He refocused on Modeus just to hear him saying that the next lesson would be about History. A good choice it was. History could teach one many things that other sources cannot. Avariss praised himself for knowing a thing or two about history himself though he would’ve liked to know more.

Suddenly Modeus stopped and Avairss noticed him pulling out three red vials of unknown purpose from a pouch that hung somewhere on his black scaled armour, he than handed it to several members and said that they pose a problem because of their humanity. Because of their race’s short lifespan Modeus conjured those potions that will extend their life span to near four hundred years. After that Modeus turned and walked to a set of doors that Avariss didn’t notice earlier he opened them and entered expecting that everyone would follow him, and so they did.

As he traversed through the halls with the rest of the group he noticed that those halls were not the same. They were elven made it was easily seen at least to Avariss though he was sure that even the humans would be able to see the difference between the elven elegant craftsmanship and the dwarven eternal one. While he looked around the brightly lit corridor a thought still plagued his mind, what if he was to use the positions which Modeus gave the Humans? Would it extend his lifetime as well? He had to find out.

Avariss shook his head in disbelief. When did he become a thief and a coward? He clenched his fists and scents a spike of his power into his own mind. He knew that Voice was residing somewhere there and he had to drive him away from there, he constantly swayed his thoughts to evil. Or did he? Wasn’t it all too possible that it was Avariss himself who thought that? Wasn’t it possible that he was not as pure as he thought? The feeling of doubt returned again. No! It had to be Voice why else would he be doubting himself?

It appeared that the mighty dragon raider was full of himself as he told them that he wishes to know what kinds of myths and stories sprung up about him. It was apparent that they would have to pass through this idiocy in order to learn something of value so Avariss might as well cooperate.

“*Well, as most dark elves*…” Avariss began speaking “*I have heard about the famous battle between the Dragon and the Hydra. As most of the details are irrelevant I shall shorten it and say that the battle took place several decades ago. It was when I was still young and when some of you were not even born. The battle was fought between Modeus’s dragon and a mighty Hydra, one of the mightiest to ever attack our cities. As you see Modeus standing here before you, you can all assume that he and his dragon won*.”

After that was said he looked at Modeus and than turned his gaze away after several seconds. “*To answer the question about your origination and previous life it is speculated among that dark elves that you are the eldest son of our king. It is said that you turned away from the back stabbing politics of our race which is a good thing*” Avariss added with poisonous tone remembering that politics driven him away from his home as well.

He took in some air and continued “*Well, all those theories and speculations are sound and well but none was confirmed so I am not going to stand behind one of those though
you do have something royal in you. I can see it in your pose and step, you are used to being obeyed, something that only men of power can achieve.*”


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## Midge913

Andaleth listened as the other apprentices spoke about their dragons and what they knew of them and the species in general. But his attentions were on the Dragon Lord. Andaleth found it encouraging that he listened to each of them in turn, never interrupting and never showing sign as to his thoughts on their responses. He showed patience and understanding. After listening to everyones responses Modeus nodded his head as if he found their responses satisfactory and turned to answer Uthiat.

"To answer your questions Uthait, those of you with magical abilities will be trained to further them to levels currently beyong your comprihension. As for those of you with no magical aptitude then i shall teach you how to resist spells and protect yourself and your dragon from them." Andaleth's mind raced and he could tell that Sirrush had also had his interest peaked by the mention of arcane instruction. It was odd, but now that he had Sirrush by his side, Andaleth felt that perhaps the knowledge, understanding, and aptitude with his Fel abilities had begun to outweigh the costs. It was a strange notion, but he was definitely conflicted by it. 

"Now lets move onto our first true lesson of your apprenticeship. Yesterday I threw you into battle with some of the many creatures i keep caged beneath this mountain and I know you all have questions about what is actually locked up and why I formed the dragon riders, so in short your first real lesson will be a History lesson about why I am doing this and what you will be expected to do in the near future. But for now I have something for Bjor, Kell, Andaleth and Aseer." 

Andaleth was definitely intrigued by the fact that they were going to learn more about the founding of the Dragon Riders as well as being given a glimpse of what their responsibilities were going to be. He had to confess to himself that even though the notion of becoming a Dragon Rider had totally engulfed his every thought, he had been wondering what they were to do once trained and ready. However all of this paled in comparison to the fact that he was to be given a gift. Perhaps Lord Modeus intended to bequeath onto those that he mentioned some form of arcane weapons or talismans. However as Modeus reached into his belt pouch he withdrew not blade or bauble, but a small red crystal vials that appeared to contain some sort of liquid. 

"You three along with all other Humans and Northmen pose a problem when I pick you as dragon riders due to your races short lives so with this potions you will be able to extend your normal life time of 70-80 years to about 300-400 years like the Mages and Warlocks of your race are able to do." Andaleth couldn't believe his ears. Even Sirrush was pleased by this notion that Andaleth should not fall to the ravages of time in the prime of the drakes life. Andaleth stood there staring at the precious liquid he held in his hand and felt that he had been rooted to the spot. So many things now seemed possible. He was roused by Sirrush hissing in his ear, "Hurry human. The group leaves us." Andaleth looked up and saw that indeed Modeus and his compatriots were moving away from the landing through a small doorway into the mountains. 

Hurrying to catch up, Andaleth stowed the red vial quickly into a pocket and joined the group in a hallway that looked distinctly different from the ones in the keep below. It was obvious that these tunnels were not dwarven made, but displayed the elegant flowing craftsmanship of the elves. Even though his stay in the keep had been longer than his companions, Andaleth had never been in this part of the fortress. Perhaps this was where Modeus himself stayed. Even looking around Andaleth saw that none of the dwarves of clan Ironhammer were about, this must be some special place reserved for Modeus and his guests alone. As they walked Modeus once again posed to them a querry. "Before I start on a history lesson," he said, "I'm interested in what people are saying about me and what kind of myths and legends have sprung up about my previous life and where from the Dark Elf lands i hail from. So why don't each of you tell me what you have heard?"

This to Andaleth seemed to be an odd question. "Surely Modeus had eyes and ears in the world outside of the keep. How else could he have learned of all of us and our experiences with dragons," Andaleth mused to himself. But it was no matter. If Modeus wanted to hear stories of his own deeds Andaleth had a few to impart. 

It was Avariss that spoke first and he told of a great conflict between Modeus, his Dragon, and a great hydra that had been assailing the home of the Dark Elves. He was succinct in his recitation of the tale and ended by sharing his opinions on Modeus' origins. It would certainly explain Modeus' demeanor and strength should he be descended from the royal line of the Dark Elf kings, but as to whether or not this was true the Dragon Lord gave no sign. 

"Well my lord," Andaleth began, "in Bel'angrath it is said that you hail from a town in the far northern reaches of the tundra. Even further north than the Northmen dare to go. It is said that as you learned and traveled you made your way southward to the civilized lands of the Dark Elves and witnessed the destruction of a village there at the hands of a fearsome Black Dragon causing you to want to tame the beasts power for your own uses. It is rumored that in this search you came across an unprotected black dragon egg, the mighty Zar'Tharon's egg, and with its hatching and the bond you formed with the drake you took to the fight in the Dark Lands in defense of your homeland."

Andaleth paused and felt uncomfortable under the Dragon Lord's unblinking gaze but pressed on, "all tales told around mugs of ale and warm fires in the taverns and keeps of Heirensburg my lord. I am not sure as to their truth but they are the tales I grew up with. One of my favorites was about your battle with the vile Necromaner Heiselv von Vardoris. This tale I heard many a time on the streets. Vardoris is still a name feared by many my lord, and as such the recounting of your lordships hunt and destruction of the foul mage is a tale of comfort and hope to many in the northern lands. It was told to me that nigh on fifty years ago you clashed with the Necromancer three times my lord and on the third such encounter, over the city of Mortaslium if the tales are true, you slayed Vardoris and cast down his undead horde." Taking a breath Andaleth continued, "If I might ask my lord, some tales say that Vardoris' body was never found? I have heard murmurs in the undercity, the lairs of thieves and cutthroats, that the body was taken by one of Vardoris' apprentices, my lord. Ratcatchers and underdwellers speak of strange happenings in the sewers and caverns beneath Mortsalium. Do you think that Vardoris' apprentice managed to escape with his master's corpse? If so do you think that he could pose a threat to the human realms once more?"


----------



## Angel of Blood

Modeus produced three red vials, handing one of them to Kell. He then announced that they would be able to extend his lifespan by another few hundred years, eliminating the problem of his races comparitvely short lives. 

Kell stared for a long moment at the vial in his hand, unsure of how to feel about it. Whilst on the one hand Modues was right, his life was too short to be able to become a fully fledged dragon rider and that the idea of living for much longer did appeal to him. But he also felt slightly conflicted. It wasn't natural for his kind to live for so long, to extend their lives and defy the natural order must involve dangerous magics, something that abhored him. 

He snapped out of his thoughts to see the rest of the group had moved on to follow Modeus, only Andaleth was still alongside him, similarly lost in thought apparently, though to Kell it didn't appear to be due to any internal conflict. 

He followed the group again, as he caught up with them he heard Modeus request they tell him of the stories they had heard about him in their homelands. Avariss as usual piped up first. But Kell wasn't listening, his mind still on the vial clutched within his hand. Typhon perhaps noticing this nudged into his thoughts.

*What is it? Why are you so worried about extending your life?*

_*Some things shouldn't be interfered with Typhon. The natural order is one of those things*_

*But you must do it, you will barely register on my lifespan if you don't. And i don't intend to find another insufferable person to bond with*

Kell arched an eyebrow in amusement

_*Oh we've bonded now have we? Here was me thinking i was your target for testing your skills of ambush*_

Typhon flicked his tail to slap Kells head, but grudingly sent

*Touche*

_*Perhaps you are right though, even if it does go against my better judgement*_

Feeling he should get it over and done with without dwelling on it any longer, he uncorked the small vial and gulped the liquid down in one. Beyond a coppery tang, it didn't taste of anything in particular. He waited, expecting to feel the familiar tinge of magic taking hold of him. But nothing came. Somehow this reassured him, perhaps the liquid was just a feat of alchemy afterall.

Andaleth finished his tales of Modeus and Kell decided to recount what he knew of the fabled Dragon Lord.

"I have heard the same thing about your origins as Andaleth has Lord, as most of our kind would. I have also heard the tales of your battle against the Necromancer, though not aswell as Andaleth seems to have. The tale i had always been told was of your participation in the Battle of the Burning Land, but only one hundred years ago. The Gnolls and Orcs had assembled one of the largest armies seen, and left a trail of destruction in their wake. But our kingdom responded in turn, sending a similarly large army to stop them, meeting them on the plains of Harlazeth. The battle was a bloody stalemate, with neither army giving ground until our commander was slain, almost routing the army. But then you entered the battle on our side Lord, devastating the Gnolls and Orcs and helping us gain victory."


----------



## Yru0

Aseer stared at the vial that sat in his hand, the red liquid swirling like his own deep thoughts. Generally, Aseer would've gladly gulped down the mixture without a second thought, the capability to live for such a long time would be amazing, and he had no intention of being an old and ungainly mess by the time Seraphim reaches her prime! Although, he was also warry of delving into such dark and arcane arts too much, Modeus had already stated that he would be teaching them methods to defend themselves from hostile sorcerers, but could the magical solution push their souls over the edge? Aseer had no intention of losing his mind to another being or suffer another of the other gruesome effects of the magical powers that were talked about in hushed voices around the town inns, lest a sorcerer overhear their superstitions. Aseer turned his head towards Avariss as he mentioned that Modeus may be some long lost prince, he had not even noticed the man begin his speech or even considered the later part of Modeus' question. Avaris was a man who obviously had secrets, and Aseer knew that he wasn't the only one in the group who doubted the wizard's integrity, he could see the other's make passing glances at him, suspicion obvious in the gaze, could he be suffering from his own power? No, Aseer had to put his faith in Modeus, for this matter at least, he was no magician and he had no intention of laying his mind vulnerable to such vile forces, and he if he had to tempt the fates to do so, well he had been in poor situations before and the mistress of luck had yet to desert him. Finally, before he could change his mind, Aseer gulped down the strange formula.

Shaking his head, Aseer searched himself for some water. The liquid had had no visible side-effects that he could notice, he didn't feel any different either, although the vile thing had an ungodly taste! Gagging, Aseer managed to gulp down the water from his canteen, which managed to clear his head enough to consider Modeus' question. Suddenly realising he had fallen behind, Aseer jogged back to the main group, quickly searching his memory for those nights sitting in pubs celebrating a successful, or drinking away a failed, hunt where the alcohol loosened people's lips. "Well, I never heard of you being a royal, although I wouldn't be surprised if it were the case. We were all told only scattered rumours of the Great Modeus, whose personal vendetta against the forces of darkness has turned him into a mighty warrior. It is believed that your own part in the war began when your home was razed to the ground by the evil forces, for it itself lay deep within the Dark Lands, farther over the edge that even many dark elves wished to voyage. It was during your retreat that you noticed a mighty battle between two Drakes and fermented a plot to exact your revenge. You spent many nights stalking the beast, but by lady luck or uncanny skill, you managed to find its nest and steal an egg, raising your own dragon to be both partner and steed in the coming battles.” Aseer finished by moving his gaze to the mighty beast, but it’s emotions were even harder to ascertain than those of its rider.”As for a great conflict you have been fabled to be involved in? Then there is many to choose from, most obvious offspring of the rumour mill, although tales of your deeds have travelled far and wide. One famous fight was when the people of Kelanrath were preparing futile defense for a coming siege and army of beastmen, a dreaded force that many feared had already eradicated the native wood elves down to the last woman, man and child, a genocidal slaughter. Fearing for their lives, the people called upon the Rider Modeus and his Drake to lead a force against the monsters, yet only five soldiers could be spared. The six souls set off on their quest, only to find themselves assailed by an army of their foe, fighting valiantly till the end, they managed to stave off defeat for days until the armies of the elves and dwarves arrived to eliminate the blight on the land forever. Needless to say, the beastmen were wiped from the face of the lands, and those warriors who survived are revered as heroes by their people.”


----------



## revan4559

Everyone: Modeus continues to stride infront of you as each one of you takes turns in telling him what you know of his past and great battles before a small smile appears on his face as he turns his head to look back at all of you. "To must of you it may seem vain that i asked you of my origins and legands that surrond me but i did it as part of your first lesson, allow me to explain. Once you start to take on missions, fighting mighty battles and forge out your own legand and story once you start to become a dragon rider many myths and rumors of who you once were will spring up all over the place and it is very important that YOU remember who you used to be before you became a rider. You must remember where you came from, your connection to your entire race, amoung over things as once you become a Dragon Rider people will sometimes fear and distrust you for the power that you will wield. Do each of you understand what i am saying?" Modeus turns his head back to look infront of him as he starts to ascend some stairs to go even higher into the mountain. Do any of you answer the Dragon Lord? Do any of you try to put it in words that the others might understand better or try and word it yourself to make it send more sense to you?

As follow Modeus up the stairs you notice that the hallways and decorations on them are becoming even more elven as which seems odd as most of the design around you appears to be older than the dwarven craftmenship of the lower keep which couldn't possibly be right as the dwarves were in this mountain before the coming of Modeus...or were they? Perhaps you ask the High Lord about why the elven work appears to be older and maybe even ask where exactly he is leading you? What you do is up to you but for now you notice that all of your dragons are content just to sit on your shoulders, in your arms or walk beside your feet as they look around at all the new and interesting sights as you remember they are all new-born and obviously don't know much about the world. Perhaps you could tell your dragons while you ascend the stairs about your species and homeland?

Adalstienn and Jerome: Both of you are currently instead of the large and magnificent room that makes up the Dragon Lords own personal study near the top of the mountain where he has told you both to wait as he brings the rest of the apprentices that you will be joining to meet you. Currently walking around the room and investigating the new strange sights your dragons are behaving themselves for the moment as they are being watched by young white dragon about the size of a fully grown war horse that is latched onto the ceiling and staring down at you. Looking around the study you can see that almost a full half of it is filled with books on magical spells, the history, myths and descriptions on all the known races that inhabbit the known world. Some of the books are even ones which Modeus himself has written as he has clearly been going over what he knows about certain dragons such as the Shadow Dragon and Stone Dragon which makes Adalstienn feel very interested in what the Dragon Lord knows about Bergdis. The other half of the room however is filled with weapon racks and glass cabbinits that are filled with weapons that give each of you tingles down your spine as you can both clearly sense that each one of them has magical properties. Finally while looking around the study there are several more doors that if you try to open you find are locked along with you receive a warning growl from the white dragon. Do either of you two pick up the books and read through them to find out what races Modeus was reading about? Do you try to talk with the white dragon clinging to the ceiling? Do you say anything to each other? Talk to your dragons or even go back towards the stairs as you hear voices coming from the winding stair case which sounds like Modeus and the other apprentices.


Bjor: and Uthiat: You will need to post the stuff i pm'ed you along with doing what ever your going to do in this update. So basically you two have 2 updates to post for(this and the previous).


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Minerva was staring at him. Her green eyes did not blink as she flicked her tongue in and out of her mouth like a snake, she looked down at the vial Modeus had given and then back at him, did she want him to down it? The realization that she was challenging him to drink it made him laugh, she was learning fast, so he opened the vial and downed the sour liquid. It burned the back of his throat but he liked it, would it really increase his lifespan to untold years? He smiled at the thought of all the battles that he and Minerva would take part in, truly the gods were smiling down upon him to give him this opportunity. 

Modeus asked them all what he knew about them, it was one thing for a man to tell his own story so that the bards could remember and tell it once he had passed but it was another to flaunt one's own story in front of others, it was vain and pompous and not the way of his people. Bjor kept his mouth shut and said nothing in response to the Dragon Lord, he knew the story that his people told about Modeus and how he had driven off the great Ice Drake, every child was told that story when they were young. 

It served to teach them that even the mighty can fall and that if one stands up for what is right and protects innocents then they will prevail no matter the situation. As they continued to walk Modeus told them why he had asked them about himself, Bjor agreed with him, one must always remember where he came from. So he decided to speak up and say something, *"You drove off the great Ice Drake from our largest settlement, a hero to our people."* he stared at Modeus, Bjor holding the Dragon Lord's gaze with his own deep blue eyes, *"I know no fear. I will kill the mighty Ice Drake and rid my people of it and its spawn." *

It was not a show of arrogance, Bjor was simply stating what he knew was going to happen. He had been taught at such a young age to defeat one's fear so that he may truly meet his full potential in battle that he no longer really thought about it once the haze took him. He would kill the great Ice Drake and he would kill its spawn that had attacked and killed his tribe, he looked at Minerva as they continued to follow Modeus, *"I am the last Hellwolf young one, the last living member of my tribe. My friends, family and wife gone because of a foul ice dragon, we will rain hell down upon them and show them what it means to test the fury of the Hellwolf. Our clan was not one to be tested in battle or strength unless you knew you had a fighting chance, our rituals to become a berserker much different than those of the other tribes."*

His eagerness for vengeance and battle in general was always palpable around him and he could feel Minerva feeding off of that energy. He looked at Kell, the human warrior who had aided him in his fight with the Grimskull, *"I wish to thank you for supporting me last night. When we have free time to train with each other I would be honored if you would be my sparing partner, I fear that the rest of those present would not have much of a chance."* he chuckled, Kell was much smaller than him but the man could fight and they all needed to train as much as possible to get better. 

Tell me about your people

Minerva's voice echoed in his head as she finished her thought. 

My people are hardy, we live in one of the most violent places in the land with almost nothing to live off of except the ocean, and we thrive. We are all warriors, our traditions running so deep that they touch every aspect of our lives, our needs and wants are simple compared to the other races which is why many believe us to be nothing but barbarians. 

Your behavior last night would say otherwise

Her sarcasm made him laugh. 

Aye that it would. Yet the Grimskull had challenged my honor and by doing so put himself in that position and so I attacked him, I would not have a foul minded fool of a Grimskull insult my clan's memory. The only things you need to know about us is this; We are a pride filled people, our martial prowess is unmatched and we know it. We believe in honor, in acting with it and treating people with the mutual respect that they deserve unless proven otherwise. *NEVER* challenge a Northman's honor, in any aspect of his life, *NEVER* insult him or his clan and call him a coward and you will be fine.

Your people sound dangerous

Bjor smiled and said out loud, *"We are."*


----------



## Rems

Slouched against a pillar, his back pressed against the cool stone, Jerome yawned; not deigning to cover it with his hand. Clad in a belted white doublet with soft doe skin boots knee tall, blond hair brushing against his collar he was the picture of young, noble boredom. The dragon coiled at his feet, a bundle of scales and spines; all tail, neck and wings, looked up at him, sapphire eyes sparkling. 

“You are tired?” It asked, sending the question directly into the young man’s mind. Jerome grimaced, still not entirely used to the feeling and sent his own, verbal reply.

“No, just bored little one, a library is no place for Jerome Du’Savoi”, he drawled.

“I have a name”, snapped the little bronze dragon in annoyance, nostrils flaring.

“I know this very well, it was I after all who named you,… Oberon” replied the knight, lips curled in amusement at his dragon’s indignation, pausing for a moment before he said its name. “And a good name is it too, strong and powerful as you shall grow to be.”

The memory of naming his dragon was still fresh in his mind, indeed it would be likely a memory that would stay with him forever. He had come to High Dragon Hold some days before, escorted by a retinue of his father’s household knights whom he had bid goodbye. The experience of choosing an egg was something else, Jerome did not often lack for words or a quip but in that room, surrounded by sleeping dragons and bathed in the glow of magical fires he was awed. Examining each egg in turn he was drawn to a thorny spined one, of a curious shade of gold with darker flecks. This one he had told Modeus before being ushered away for tests and training.

He had woken a few days later to find that his egg had hatched, for a small bronze creature sat on his chest awake and unafraid, head coked quizzically, their noses a bare inch apart. It took Jerome still waking mind a moment to process what he was seeing before shouting a startled oath. The wyrmling recoiled at the movement, hissing and was knocked off by Jerome’s rising body as he sat bolt upright. After that somewhat shaky start things had improved. He had offered the little creature some stew from the cauldron over the fire and watched as it wolfed down chunks of meat before lapping up the source. 

Once finished he rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Now we give you a name.” “You are bronze, as was man’s first weapons. This is a good sign I think, for it means strength and beginnings. We, together, will forge a new world, growing in strength and power. It is fitting then that a mighty dragon has a mighty name, Oberon suits well, king of the elder gods as you shall be first among dragons”. He spoke in clear, cultured tones, not asking, not requesting but telling. This was how it would be, his dragon would be Oberon, they would rise together, fact not belief. 

“Yes” replied Oberon, mentally. The shock of such contact nearly toppling Jerome from his chair, his eyes widening. “Did you not know I could speak?”, asked the dragon, wry amusement bleeding through their connection. 

“Ahh, no” Jerome managed weakly, disquieted by such intimate contact. 

Shaking his head to dispel the memories Jerome came back to the present, and once again became acutely aware of the dragon hanging above him, the creature snorting loudly and moving its claws. He would not admit to being worried but it was certainly disquieting to have a large, magical animal the size of a destrier, that are generally considered the bane of the mortal races everywhere, hanging above oneself. Refusing to give it the satisfaction of seeing him move he remained slouched against the pillar, shoulders perhaps tensed more than they should be. 

While the library held no great interest for Jerome who was of the opinion that a good bit of steel solved most problems, the racks of seemingly magical weapons were another matter entirely. Upon first entering the room he had made straight for them, admiring their fine craftsmanship. These were weapons fit for those who rode dragons. The White dragon began to growl when he moved too close however so he was content to merely look. 

At length Jerome became aware of the echoes of voices bouncing up the winning stairs. “It seems we are to have company, and about time too” he said to Oberon, the wyrmling bobbing its head in agreement. Remaining in his leaning position he waited to see who would emerge.


----------



## Otep

Adalstienn quietly looked around the rather large and elaborate study. Some books were on the people of the world, their history, customs and myths. There was an entire wall dedicated to books about spells, all kinds of spells at that. Finally there was the wall that interested Adalstienn the most, dragons. There was no doubt this was their mentor’s personal study. Quills, parchment and half opened books littered a table in the far side of the room. If time would permit, Adalstienn would stay in this room for years soaking up each individual word from the dragon section. 

She made two soft clicking noises with her tongue; Bergdis scampered from the chair she was sitting on. “Which book shall I pick little sister?” Adalstienn smiled slightly as she ran her fingers from the base of the stone dragon’s skull to the middle of her spine. Adalstienn wished she understand her dragon more. It was acting strange the last day or two and she had no idea what was wrong.

Bergdis glanced at the dragon on the roof, “One on how to stop a white dragon from watching you. That THING up there has been watching us since we arrived and I can not tell if it’s watching us or trying to decide if we’re it’s dinner” Her small feminine voice piercing Adalstienn’s skull. She loved her dragon’s voice in the odd complexity of it. A very intelligent feminine voice at first, then a slight reverberation after like the echo in a mine shaft. 

Adalstienn was caught off guard by her little sister’s remark. “Then if you can not tell, and I care not, we confront the beast. Remember little sister, take your time before passing judgment, it is rude to cast assumptions on another.” 

Glancing up Adalstienn could clearly make out the white dragon clearly watching them. It’s body radiated a coldness that reminded her of her home in the mountains. It’s sleak body carefully poised in a defensive position. “Beautiful” though Adalstienn to herself.

“Excuse me, My little sister and I are curious why your watching us. It feels unnatural to be the stalked…..” Adalstienn’s voice trailed off as she remembered the last hunt she had. The white dragon glared at her and her dragon slightly. Adalstienn quickly disbanded the though and kept to what was at hand.

“If you intend to make her a meal, may the gods have mercy on you for I won’t…” Adalstienn’s hand subconsciously went for the two knives on her belt. The white dragon was one of the few she knew well. Every weakness, flaw and strength Adalstienn knew all too well and knew how to exploit them. This terror would die if it made the wrong move…


----------



## komanko

OOC: Couldn’t include much of a description about Avariss’s people and homeland because as you know I don’t have internet access and I forgot to copy it to word  Sorry about that revan.

OOC2: Not my best but this would have to do…

Several of the apprentices shared their knowledge about Modeus yet not all of them. Some kept for themselves. It was not a matter of importance, wild speculations and tavern stories did not help anyone. Still, Avariss paid attention just for knowledge’s sake. 

As they spoke Modeus strode before them his gaze meeting with each one of them. Avariss returned a gaze to Modeus. So full of himself… Perhaps it was true what the wise said; perhaps legends did twist their heroes… He shrugged, it didn’t matter to him, he never looked up to be like Modeus when he was a child, Modeus was simply a mythical figure back in his youth, nothing more, nothing less.

When everyone finished speaking Modeus stopped and looked at them as a whole, what he said next was kind of a surprise to Avariss. It was all too possible that Avariss might have misjudged the dragon riders character. Apparently that pointless retelling of stories old did have a reason, at least that’s what the dragon rider claimed.

He told them that they should never forget who they used to be before they began forging their own legend. In a way this made sense, there was truth in his words, maybe even wisdom. The point was so obvious that Avariss would have never bothered noting it. It was a simple thing; never forget who you are so your own legends wouldn’t be able to dictate to you who you are. 

“*I have no past to hold on too*…” Avariss grumbled a little too loudly, it was clear to him that some might have heard him. Well, that’s one more piece of knowledge about himself that the others would know. The sound of rustling cloth caught his attention; he felt movement up on his shoulder which reminded him of Gresh’Thoth’s presence, something that he completely forgot.

Two heads appeared in front of him, both twisting around his neck, one coming from the left and the other from the right. He didn’t get to inspect the dragonling from such a close distance yet. He could see his scales shining and reflecting the light around them perfectly. He could see how the scales covered each other, successfully creating near impenetrable armour. 

He looked at the heads; he could see four dark green eyes staring back at him, malicious cunning and wit tingling inside of them. Gresh opened his mouth revealing rows upon rows of sharp dagger like teeth; a red tongue lay behind them like a silent predator waiting to lash out in an instant. The mouth closed shut nearly on Avariss’s nose while he looked closer. Than unexpectedly Thoth spoke “*If you have no past to relate too you might want to create a better future for yourself*…” It spoke with a great wisdom for a thing that hatched just several hours ago. The creature’ intelligence marveled that of an adult person and it was still barely a hatchling… Amazing.

Avariss stroked his beard, his long and nimble fingers running through the thick black hair like a knife through butter. “*Your words possess truth in them*.” He simply said. Looking up he saw Modeus beginning to ascend the stairs nearby, Avariss realized that he probably missed the lord’s last words. No matter, if they were of importance he would ask about them later on.

As he began ascending the stairs he wondered out loud “*No past to return to, no present whatsoever… You are correct Thoth; I have only the future to look out for. Out fates are intertwined little drake, the gods have sewn a destiny of greatness for us*…” He said to himself although it was loud enough to be heard by anyone who would listen. He didn't continue the sentence though, his own words, his claims of a great destiny made him wonder… Greatness can be achieved by good and by evil, which brought the question, where would his greatness shine? Will it be the light that guides or the darkness that blinds?

As he wondered he petted one of the dragon’s heads not even noticing which one. They continued ascending yet Avariss did not even bother looking at the elven decorations that might have left him with an open mouth. Thoughts of the future plagued his mind, which quickly lead him back to thoughts about the past.

“Gresh’Thot” Avariss began saying “*I wont insult your intelligence by saying that you don't know anything about me and my home, so if you wish I might share some knowledge with you.*” It seemed that the dragon was considering the offering for a short while and after that he replied “*Do that. We wish to know more.*” Avariss smiled, the dragon knew the worth of knowledge. “*Good. I shall tell you of me and my people when we will be back at our room tonight. I don’t wish to enlighten the unworthy*.” He said and than fell silent. His words about the room and the night reminded him of the strange dream that he had again. It reminded him of the forbidden.

Necromancy. Such a thing seemed to answer so many things in the dream. Was it really as potent and powerful as his mind portrayed to him? Or was it someone else who sent those thoughts into his mind? Avariss’s dark eyes lay on Modeus, should he risk questioning the lord? He knew that necromancy was one of the unspoken skills of the world. Like the fell sorcery he used, it was a hidden secret to repel the unworthy. 

He decided to risk it. He had to know something about it. It seemed like a potent source of power. His pace quickened and he passed several of the apprentices while making his way to Modeus. When he reached him he asked, “*Lord, as one who obviously traveled the world and saw the most hidden paths that it has to offer. What can you tell me*…” He hesitated, would he risk the lord’s wrath once again? Yes. “*Ne… Necromancy*.” He finally spat out. Now he would have to wait for the lord to reply.


----------



## Midge913

As Andaleth listened as some of the other apprentices told tales they had heard regarding Modeus' exploits in the past, he toyed with the vial of potion concealed in his pouch. He wondered what he would do about it. His initial elation at the thought of living several centuries longer than he would normal had faded, and the cool process of reasoned logic began to assert itself. Living longer meant more time with Sirrush and more time as a Dragon Rider, but it also meant that the taint of his abilities would have that much longer to take root. More questions, always more questions. He would speak to Sirrush later about what he thought of the problem. 

Turning back to the group he listened as Aseer began to tell his tale. He nodded in recognition as Aseer told of the Battle of Kelanrath, having heard that story as well among the taverns and inns. It was a great battle if the tale could be held as accurate. But as he listened to the other apprentices speak, Andaleth couldn't help but watch Modeus for some sort of reaction. Was this all just to appease his ego? Surely he knew the truth of these tales more than they did. It made him uneasy to think that his new master may seek only to bask in the glory of his own tales, told by anothers lips. 

"What purpose does this serve?" Sirrush said, the volume, if that term was applicable to a voice inside his mind,taking Andaleth by suprise. "Hush," Andaleth chided,"I am sure that there is a reason for these tellings. It would not be the first time Modeus did something that held ulterior motives. "

Sure enough when the others had finished their tales, Modeus turned to them and said,"To most of you it may seem vain that I asked you of my origins and legands that surrond me but i did it as part of your first lesson, allow me to explain. Once you start to take on missions, fighting mighty battles and forge out your own legand and story once you start to become a dragon rider many myths and rumors of who you once were will spring up all over the place and it is very important that YOU remember who you used to be before you became a rider. You must remember where you came from, your connection to your entire race, amoung over things as once you become a Dragon Rider people will sometimes fear and distrust you for the power that you will wield. Do each of you understand what i am saying?" 

"Wise words indeed," Andaleth thought. Aloud he murmured and affirmative to his master's question as Modeus turned back to the stairs and continued to lead them higher up into the mountain. 

As they continued to walk the decorations turned more and more Elvish in nature. Andaleth, not having spent much time with Dwarves, thought that this was definitely an odd thing. Certainly the Dwarves of the Ironhammer Clan were residents of this mountain long before Modeus was. Andaleth sighed. Every hour in this place only brewed more questions in his mind. For every query that was answered three more questions sprang into being. Andaleth decided that instead of waiting for his questions to be answered in passing he would speak his mind. He opened his mouth to ask about the nature of this place and their destination, but before he could Avariss broke from quiet conversation with his dragon and asked Modeus about the foul art of Necromancy.

Sirrush let out a small growl. Andaleth could tell that the drake held some distrust for Andaleth's fellow warlock, and it appeared that some fear Sirrush held about Avariss was just confirmed. 

"I do not trust that one," Sirrush said in Andaleth's mind. " He seeks power, and if he seeks it from acrance arts as foul as necromancy we should watch out for him and his drake." 

" Jump not to hasty conclusions my little friend. I just finished telling the tale of Vardoris, so perhaps it is just a passing fancy. Though I will take your word to heart Sirrush," Andaleth said, keeping his voice low enough not to be heard by any one else. " It is not his thirst for knowledge that makes me uneasy for that is why we are all here is it not. But in him I see the a possible future for myself. Driven mad and corrupted by the very powers that course through me. Perhaps, young one, we may find an ally in him for I know that he wishes to be free of the taint passed by Fel magic just as much I long for it. Guarded we shall be, for trust is something that I do not give freely. We need to learn more about our companions, to that end I want you to watch and listen."

"As you say," Sirrush replied and was silent for a moment. " I sense that you are reluctant to share your past...." 

Though Sirrush did not ask specifically what brought Andaleth to High Dragon Hold or about his life before hand, the question was obviously implied. "This is a story for later little one, but rest assured that that life is in the past. Hush now, I wish to hear what Modeus says in reply as well as gauge Avariss' response.


----------



## Yru0

Aseer listened intently to his fellow apprentices' stories and tall tales of Modeus' endeavours, and it soon became obvious that not all they heard was true, with contradictions galore. Half expecting Modeus to reveal the true story of his history, Aseer was nonetheless not to surprised when the shifting elf revealed to them that there was some how some sort of deep philosophical meaning behind the questioning, _Or you just like hearing how us poor townsfolk whisper about you in our private worlds,_Aseer couldn't hide a slight grin from appearing on his face, it was exactly what he'd do anyway. 

As the group continued on their way through the halls, the design noticeably altered, becoming ancient and seemingly far older than their previous dwellings, none of this really mattered to Aseer, so it was older, that didn't mean it was better, but Seraphim seemed entranced by the intricate designs and layouts, her previously predatory eyes glimmering with wonder, and Aseer realised that he could feel a cool curiosity, that only children deserved to experience. Shaking the feeling away, Aseer sighed, he was still getting used to the connection he and his dragon were creating, he was senseing emotions that were not his, and although at first the sensation had made him feel sick and disorientated, it now stimulated him and gave him the impression that even this early on, himself and his drake were making progress. We will be an unstoppable force someday, it was Aseers turn to wonder at what the future held for the pair, but his daydreaming was interupted by a nip on the ear from an attention-seeking Seraphim, _I can sense in your thoughts about your homeland, but I cannot yet garner meaning from the images and emotions. Tell me about your people, do they live in caves like the dwarves? Or do they make their nests high in the trees like the birds? _A slight sensation of hunger passed between them as Seraphim recalled the taste of her last meal, a recently slaughtered feathered creature, a bird of the like Aseer had never seen before, and one which Seraphim devoured with glee and contentment that forced Aseer to retreat to the bathroom. Humans? Well, we're not all the same for one thing, 'said' Aseer gesturing towards Bjor who stormed in the usual northern manner ahead of them, the men of the north are split into tribal groups, their society may seem primitve to many and barbaric, but their use of challenge and duels for the sake of honour have helped stop many a conflict between warlords deposit their kingdom into widespread civil bloodshed. My people however, we make our home across a great land to the south of the darkness, to the west we have great forests, once home to graceful wood elves who have long since been driven out, whether by us or other foes, and to the east we have dry desert, across which nomads reign and water is the most precious commodity. Aseer smiled as he remembered the many trips his friends and fellow hunters had made to the wilderness, spending weeks at a time off the tracks, tracking raiders or hunting game, it was a world he sorely missed, And all through the middle are great grass plains, hills, the land of farmers and peaceful citizens, the breadbasket of our kingdom and the home of many, it is there that our glorious capital resides, a city of such wonder and splendor, its mighty walls encompassing government, and the heads of bussinesses that span most of the empire, the throbbing heart of humanity in this world. What Aseer refused to tell Seraphim, was that the images of the city he was sending her, were from ages past, he had only traveled to the mighty urban center once in his youth, barely able to walk, before having to travel out into the far off provinces where his father ruled as master. What of you drake? Do you know of your own kind's history and culture? We are not told that you are even thinking beings, let alone intelligent, do you think that certain members of your kind may not in fact be as dark as we believe? However, before Seraphim answers, the group approach what appears to be their destination, and Aseer could hear muted voices emanating from the room.


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi nodded in understanding at the High Lord’s words. He knew next to nothing about Modeus than what he or others had already said and so had kept quiet when Modeus asked of what they knew of his past. He knew what Modeus meant. He felt a strong connection to the Dark Elves. Once he had not but the death of his brother had filled him with a strong sense of loyalty to his homeland. He would give his own life and the lives of all those he had ever liked if it meant saving his race. He would give the life of his young dragon and he felt Glacies bristle slightly at this but then relax. _Why so ready to give your future and your friends Dark Elf?_ Came the inquisitive voice. Extraxi smiled wanly _You do not understand young one, when you have seen what people like me have seen you will finally know why I feel this way_ he replied. _Of course _came the mocking reply and Extraxi smiled.

He then heard Avariss ask about Necromancy and his hand flew to his dagger. Extraxi knew enough of Necromancy to realize that if Avariss ever became a Necromancer then he would be unbelievably powerful. If he even began to dabble in the magic Extraxi would kill him. It would be difficult to kill a member of the same race considering how he felt about his fellow Dark Elves but if it meant saving the lands from yet another powerful Necromancer then Extraxi would do it without hesitation, pausing to mourn once the deed was done. He felt Glacies stiffen on his shoulder and wondered if she was reacting to his thoughts or to some instinct. Her claws bit into his shoulder and he ignored the pain _Calm down Glacies, he is no Necromancer yet._ She hesitated and then relaxed, withdrawing her claws from his shoulder.

_I still don’t trust him_ She said calmly although Extraxi could hear the anger in her words. Neither do I but he is an ally as of yet, but if he does become a Necromancer I will kill him myself Extraxi replied. He saw Andaleth reacting the same way as himself and knew that despite Andaleth’s position as a Fell magician that they were both prepared to kill Avariss if he was proved to be a Necromancer. The magic was kept secret for a reason for it was a crime to raise the dead to life once more. Extraxi was even more angered by it for if Avariss did become a Necromancer and ever returned to the Dark Elf homeland then not only would thousands of his long lost race but also his dear brother would rise and be used to fight the forces of the Dark Elf military…


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat listened to Modeus’s reply. _“…trained to further them to levels currently beyong your comprihension.” _While he liked the sound of it he had read of others that promised that as well, but most did this through a ‘focus’. While it would allow the person to channel more powerful spells it also made them dependent on a single item. This was something that Uthiat himself did not like, especially if the item was something not of his own making. 

The elf glanced to the small creature on his shoulder. Was he to learn to gestalt with this small thing? Dragons could be quite powerful once they were older, but could a dragon learn magic?

_What is it,_ Meldiriel asked throwing Uthiat’s train of thought off.
“Nothing,” he replied turning back to Modeus, “Just a stray thought.”

“Before my travels I had heard about you and a Count Bloodfang. It is said that you appeared before an amassed army as the first dragon rider to lead the attack. Your request was granted and you took your place at the head. When you reached the keep you found that Bloodfang had corrupted a white drake as he had all of his followers, with some form of vampirism. Bloodfang rode his dragon against you, and according to the tale, he had bested you, or at least equaled. It wasn’t until you managed to channel a firestorm that the battle ended.” Uthiat scratched at his head. “As for your origin nobility is one of the things I have heard of, though royalty is also another theory. It is also said you are not fully dark elf.”

_Bloodfang, _the small voice of Meldiriel entered his mind, _is that a normal name?_ 
“No,” Uthiat said to his small companion, “It’s a common occurrence in myths and legends for the ‘enemy’ to receive a name that is closer to that of their station. Since this Count decided to use vampirism they renamed him Bloodfang. His original name was Bloodheart I believe.”
Meldiriel cocked her head to one side, _Did he learn to ride as you are?_
“No, I would think not.”
_Then how did he ride a dragon?_
Uthiat halted and looked at the small dragon on his shoulder. “I could not say. It’s one of the things about legends and myths, things do not always make sense. Remind me to tell you of Elaniat.”
_Who is that? _
“Another legend local to only a few villages in the lands of man.”
_Can you not tell me now?_
Uthiat smiled as he began to walk again. “Patients, there will be plenty of time.”

As they walked Modeus revealed the reason for requesting the tales. “Interesting,” the elf whispered. _What?_ The small dragon asked. 
“His reason for asking us for the tales of him. I wonder how many people have begun to believe their own legends.” 
_Is that a problem?_
“Quite a problem. I guess I should tell you of Elaniat. He was said to be a mighty mage who walked the planes. He towered over the other men with little more than a staff tipped by a single massive crystal that crackled with power. When he spoke smoke and fire flickered from his lips. There was one day that he stumbled across a caravan that was set upon by a bandit horde. As the people stood terrified of the brigands the mage strode without fear into their midst. He turned to the bandits and ordered them to release the fine people. When they did not his eyes blazed and fire coated his fingers. With a single word the bandits began to burst into flames one by one. In the end the horde was reduced to embers, or driven away."
The small dragon cocked its head. _This sounds like a great mage._
“Would you wish to meet him?”
_As a mage you should wish to._
“Yes I would but the story is only part of the legend. There was no bandit horde. As I remember there may have been three or four of them. There was a caravan, and there was fire. Of the bandits two got away. Their leader was the only one who caught fire. Rather unpleasant way to go. I don't know how they got my name that wrong either, but it happens. In legends there are times when things are exaggerated."
_Such as you being a great mage._ Uthiat could feel an almost taunt in the dragon’s voice.
“I am far better now than I was then. Of course that was also when I frequented the planes, and often returned home”

Uthiat thought of home. As he looked around he recognized a more elfish appearance. On his shoulder Meldiriel seemed fascinated at it all. “So little Meldiriel, would you like to hear of my lands?” The dragon looked back to the high elf. _Yes_ such a simple reply. Uthiat smiled as they continued to walk. He reached down to a pouch and pulled a book from it. As he opened it to the first page the elf cleared his throat. “This is a map of Em’Ralden. Here are the mountains of Kel’Karadorn, the forest of Ela’Amnor, and here is the lands of the High Elf Az'Neldaren.”
_Who lives in the mountains and forest_, the tiny dragon asked.
“We’ll start with my people, and then move on to those,” Uthiat said, “First let me tell you of the lands of my people.”

The pair followed Modues as he descended farther into the keep. Uthiat continuing to drone on and on about the people and lands. It was surprising to him that the small dragon appeared interested in all of it.


----------



## revan4559

Adalstienn: The white dragon doesn't answer you instead it remains latched to the ceiling like it has been since you arrived and just continues to watch you. You then hear raised voices behind the closed door leading to the stairs which you came up to the study from and turn to see Jerome almost get knocked off his feet as the dragon lord kicks it open from the other side, something has put Lord Modeus in a bad mood as magical purple lightning flickers around his right hand as he storms into the room muttering to himself as he starts to search through all of his books and belongings for something. Looking back to the door way you can see six other apprentices(as Avariss is at the about half way down the stairs) enter the room each with their own little dragons. Only when they have entered the room do you see the white dragon start to move as he moves along the ceiling and out of a very large window into another part of the mountain, obviously it was just watching you while Modeus was away. Looking back to the group you decide to introduce yourself to the others and ask them who they are and about their dragons.

Jerome: As you approach the door leading out of the study and down back to the stairs it slams open almost knocking you off of your feet but knocks you atleast several feet back as the High Lord literally kicked the door open, it appears something has put him in a foul mood as you had heard shouting in a strange language you do not understand. As the dragon lord enters the room he ignores you completely and heads straight for his desk as you can see he has purple lightning crackling around his right fist and forearm as he mutters to himself in the strange language again. As you look back to he door you can see six other apprentices walk through and each of them has their own dragon which is happily walking along at their feet. Perhaps you should introduce yourself and your dragon to the other apprentices as it appears the dragon lord is busy searching through his desk and library for something.

Bjor: Minerva nods her head as she listens to you explain about your homeland and looks around at the others while she listens, obviously trying to work out what the others are and where they came from. As you are near the group you almost miss the form of the dark elf Avariss go flying passed you and roll down the steps of which he almost takes you with him if it wasn't from a warning snarl of Minerva which made you turn to your body out fo the way. Looking back at the head of the group you can see the dragon lords right fit extended to where Avariss was stood and purple lightning flickers around it before he shouts something in a language you do not understand down the stairs to where Avariss has landed. After that he turns around and motions for the rest of you to follow him again clearly the warlock has done something else to annoy Modeus once more, you are then lead into through another set of doors into some form of study but instead of opening the doors normally the bad mood of Modeus makes him kick them open. Once inside of the study you can see a human and a norse-woman stood there each with their own dragon aswell.

Uthiat: Your dragon continues to listen to you as you explain about your homelands and people before moving onto what you know about other races, while you continue to walk up the stairs behind Andaleth and Avariss you hear Avariss ask about Necromancy which makes the dragon lord instantly stop and turn around just so he can punch Avariss off of his feet and send him tumbling down the stairs. You know that necromancy is one of the strongest yet most foul forms of magic there is and that it should never be spoken of lightly, as you stand there you hear Modeus shout something down to Avariss in a language which sounds very familiar to you but you are unable to place where you heard it and at best you are only able to pick out a few of the words that Modeus is saying before you realize that he is speaking in the language of your northern cousins and the homeland which modeus is from, The Kingdom of the Dark Elves. Modeus then turns around as you have reaches a large set of doors and kicks them open before he enters the room, following him you enter the room with the rest of the apprentices and can see that it is a vast study with half of it filled with books and the other magical weapons, you are able to tell they are magical due to the aura they give off. Looking around the room you see two new apprentices and their dragons waiting for you and decide to go and introduce yourself and your dragon.

Andaleth: You are completely taken by surprise at Modeus's response to Avariss's question which stops him from answering your own about the necromancer he fought years ago, as the Dragon Lord stops where he is pivots on his left heel, whirls around as purple lightning crackles around his right fist and punches Avariss square in the gut and off of his feet so that he starts to tumble down the stairs you just came up. You can see that even the mention of Necromancy puts dragon lord in a bad mood yet only moments earlier he quite happily answered Uthait's questions about the necromancy he fought along time ago, you summerize that it is because Modeus doesn't want his apprentices to learn such a foul art and would rather have them learn how to combat it affectively. You then hear the High Lord shout something down the stairs as Avariss continues to tumble down them, yet it is in a language you do not understand and appears to have all but Extraxi confused though Uthait appears to have heard the language somewhere before. Turning around Modeus then kicks open a large set of doors and enters into some form of study, once inside you can see that the room is filled with books and magical items but wht interests you more is that two other apprentices who you haven't already met yet are inside of the room.

Avariss: Upon asking your question about Necromancy you see the High Lord stiffen before he pivots on his foot and turns around to face you, before you know it his right fist covered in crackling magical energy slams into your gut and perches you off of your feet and into the air to which none of the other apprentices help you as you land on the steps and start to tumble down each and every one of them, luckily your dragon jumped off your shoulders when you were hit so he isn't getting crushed as you roll. While rolling down the stairs you hear the dragon lord shout something down to you in the native language of the dark elves which makes you wince at not only the pain you are feeling as you hit each step but also at what the dragon lord will do to you: "Nindol zhah natha sarn' Avariss, zhal'la dos tangis' xo'a ulu xo'al lu' screa l' szeoussen lu' wlalths d' necromancy Usstan orn drewst dosst solen, flamgra dosst ooble' lu' luth dos dal l' jas d' nindol mountain. Zhah nindel kampi'unus!?". After what seems to be several minutes you finally roll to a stop about half way up the long stair case that you had just walked up. What do you do while you are now on your own? What are you currently thinking about? Do you decide to head straight back up the stairs and apologize for asking about nercomancy?

Kell: OOC: You still need to post from the old update but without you posting i didn't know what to put, but im sure you'll be able to figure something out by looking at the other updates for everyone else.

Extraxi: Upon reaching the top of the stairs which are blocked off by a set of doors it is then that Avariss asks about necromancy infront of the group which in turn makes Modeus turn around on the spot and punch Avariss clear off his feet and sends him tumbling down the hundreds of steps that you have just been forced to walk up. As the purple lightning crackles around the Dragon lords fist you hear him shout something in the native language of the dark elves which makes you shudder at what Modeus will do to those he catches practicing necromancy. The high lord then turns back to the doors and kicks them open before entering the room, following him and the others you enter a large study filled with books and magical weapons which makes you wonder where Modeus got all this power(weapons) and knowledge(books) from and that it must of taken him years to gather this collections by himself unless he has help to collect it all? Looking around the study you notice that it is distinctly elven in design but it appears to be a mix of the three races which makes you wonder if this part of the mountain was settled in by the original ancestors of the three elven races. Looking around the study though something catches your eye which makes you wonder why you didn't spot it earlier, it is two other apprentices and their dragons and they must of been waiting here for you all to arrive, perhaps you should introduce yourself and explain what all the noise was about?

Aseer: As you finish explain about your homeland to Seraphim you see the dark elf Avariss shoots go flying passed you as the Dragon Lord punches him off of his feet and back down the stair case for having asked about the forbbiden art known as Necromancy. Even thinking about that dark art makes your spine shiver as if enough necromancers were to rise to power then the human kingdons wouldn't stand a chance, you then hear Modeus shout something down the stairs to Avariss in a language you do not understand which makes you want to know what it is. The High Lord then turns around and kicks open the doors leading into some sort of study and almost knocks someone off their feet as they were stood right behind the doors, after entering the study you look around and see that it is filled with books and magical weapons but what is more interesting to you is that you appear to have been joined by two more apprentices which takes the group up to nine members, surely if you were to work and fight as a group then no-one could stand up to nine dragon riders and their dragons? You see the dragon lord move off and go search for something in the room giving you and the others time to introduce yourselves to the two new members and their dragons.

OOC: Those wanting to know what Modeus said to avariss then use the link below, its a translator. If any of you are wondering i decided that Dark Elves are going to speak Drow as their language so yeah, its a drow language translator. So simply copy what modeus said then paste it into "Drow to Common" then click translate. None of you will know IC what he said except Extraxi as he speaks dark elven aswell. Uthait will know some words but not all of them as elven, wood elf and dark elven languages are similar.

http://www.grey-company.org/Maerdyn...this+mountain.+Is+that+understood!?&lang=Drow

Sadly northmen and humans dont have any of their own languages but later you will learn to speak them. But i dont want to see huge conversations which makes people use a translator, its just to add some more depth to the roleplay. But feel free to make your character swear in the a different language.


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi winced as Avariss flew down the staircase but he did not flinch due to that, he flinched because of what the High Lord had said. "Nindel orn'la naut tlu sokoya," he muttered. _What is that language_ came the inquisitive but wary voice of Glacies. _The language of my home little one, I will teach you it some day_ Extraxi responded. Glacies did not press him on the subject and so he continued to follow the High Lord to where his study was located.

When they entered the room Extraxi noticed the magical weapons and the books but what drew his attention were the 2 apprentices who were already in the room. A male and a female, both humans. Extraxi then turned his attention to the room itself. He could discern signs of Dark Elf construction but there was also a lot of high elf and wood elf building designs. Evidently this room had been built by workers of all three elven races and that was intriguing. Maybe the mountain had been settled by the ancestors of the three races.

He decided to ask the High Lord about it when Modeus would accept the question and answer it for right now he still had purple lightning crackling around his fist and was sorting through his collection of books with a frenzy. Extraxi turned his attention to the 2 humans who had been in the room when they entered. "Extraxi Veho," he said, offering a hand. On his shoulder Glacies hissed at the other 2 dragons but he calmed her with a thought and waited to see if one of the new apprentices would accept the handshake.


----------



## Rems

Jerome was spared any more tedium as the door flew open the Dragon Lord Modeus storming through a moment later. Purple lighting wreathed his arm and his face was split by a thunderous scowl. Raising an eyebrow in puzzlement he glanced down at Oberon who only shrugged his small shoulders in response, flicking his tail. 

A gaggle of other apprentices followed Modeus through the door. A Dark Elf, a High Elf, three humans and a dwarf. Each had a dragon on their shoulders or at their feet. All looked to be of common stock. A strange bunch, thought Jerome, there seemed no pattern or system of selecting apprentices. Feeling a thought from Oberon touch his mind he looked down into the bronze wyrmling’s eyes and nodded, walking forward towards the others. His boots clicked across the polished stone floor, Oberon claws skittering behind him. 

Reaching the group Jerome distained the dark elf’s proffered hand, instead bowing deeply, in the latest style of the human courts. He bent at the waist while placing one foot forward, sweeping his right arm down in front of his torso before curling it up to his left shoulder. Straightening he brushed dirty blond hair out of his eyes before gazing at each of the group in turn. “I am Jerome Du’Savoi, son of Duke Savoi; the Bastion of the West.” He spoke in a languid drawl, with cultured inflections to his clear speech. “You may address me as Ser Jerome, or Lord Jerome, both are suitable and appropriate.” Turing his body he motioned to the bronze dragon at his feet, “This is Oberon”. Oberon fanned his wings as he was named, bowing his head. “Greetings” he sent in a thought pulse, the dragon's thought voice deep and already taking the tones of his bond partner Jerome.


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## Santaire

Extraxi laughed humourlessly. “In that case ‘Lord Jerome’ you may refer to me as Prince Extraxi,” he said mockingly. This was one thing the Dark Elf had not told anyone although Modeus probably knew well enough. He was the son of one of the Lords of the Dark Elf Kingdom, as close to the throne as it was possible to get without being related to the king. He was most likely much higher in rank than Jerome but unlike Jerome he had not liked the high status and so had left his family. “You would find it suitable to refer to me like that, the others may call me Extraxi or anything else as long as they do not get on my bad side,” Extraxi said and then nodded down to Jerome’s dragon, Oberon “greetings young one, I hope you have more sense than your master and help to keep him on track.”

Extraxi then let go of the mannered exterior and stepped closer to Jerome. “If you do anything like that again then I dare say that you will regret it you foolish human,” he whispered in the man’s ear. Extraxi then returned to his original position. “What about you,” he said to the woman who had also been in the room “will you greet us as equals or inferiors.” Extraxi stood calmly and ignored Jerome. Despite him leaving the Dark Elf lands he was still a member of his family, his father had not disowned him and Extraxi did not understand this but still he was now glad of it for it gave him a way to put Jerome in his place, an equal to all the people in the room. They had all been chosen for their own reasons and Extraxi hoped that Jerome had some reason other than being well born…


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## Rems

ooc- if your a son of the highest kind of lord then you would be a duke's son- the same rank as Jerome. 


Jerome's cheeks flushed at Extraxi's words. "I treat you with courtesy and you throw it back in my face?" he asks, affronted. "I suppose i can expect no better from a dark elf, though i had thought as one of the so called 'elder races' you would have more honour than that". 

Oberon echoed Jerome's disposition, snarling up at Extaxi. "Do not presume to lecture me or my life-partner elf" sent the dragon, his tail whipping back and forth in agitation.

Jerome's eyes positively bulged as Extraxi's next words, no, not words; threats, came. "If i should do what again? Introduce myself and ask a courtesy of you?" He asked incredulously, shocked at the bald faced threat. Placing a hand on his sword's pommel and squaring up to the elf he continued in a derisive tone. "Were you a man i would demand satisfaction for your insults and threats. But you are only an elf, so i will forgive you if you have no concept of honour or respect."


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## Otep

Adalstienn jumped as the door was forced open. Their host storming through with an untold fury burning in his eyes. . He instantly went to the tables and started a frantic search for some untold document or item. Adalstienn wasn’t familiar with how to address such anger with other races. Half heartedly she wanted to try to calm him but her logic said to leave him be and watch for a weakness.

"He looks angry" chimed in Bergdis

Adalstienn didn’t even see it fit to respond to her dragon’s statement for it was self evident. She instead took an interest in the other apprentices, 6 people one of which was a norse men she recognized. She smiled softly in spite of herself; her memories of him were warm and caring. He alone assisted her in a hunt when the rest of his clan refused.

She took a moment to talk or respond, instead listening some of the other apprentices talk and bicker with one another. After a few moments it felt like the moment she was waiting for.

“I am the she wolf of the mountains… I mean my name is Adalstienn.” There was no need to say her unofficial title but it was all people knew her by. “This little one is Bergdis; which means rescue goddess for those of you not accustomed to my language.” 

She was pretty sure no one knew the dialect of her home beside the other norse men. Bergdis huddled close to her leg, trying to stay away from the angered dark elf “What is wrong with him?”

Let us find out little sister. “What or who has set off our host?”


----------



## Yru0

Aseer gazed down the staircase, wincing as Avariss bounced down the stone steps until he traveled out of sight, propelled by the strange energies surrounding the drake rider. Aseer frowned at his friend's misfortune. Friend - could he really call Avariss that? Aseer realised that he had not spoken to the Dark Elf besides taking part in the 'discussions' with Modeus, did he really think he knew the man? But nonetheless, if Modeus had opted to take him in as a dragon rider, then surely there is more than what meets the eye? But what crazed soul would dare even consider snooping around for necromancy! It was a heavily taboo subject, Aseer - along with most beings of the world - learned from a young age to fear the practise and its practitioners, the ability to bring forth armies of former loved ones to slaughter their own families is powers reserved only for the cuelest of gods, not mere man. Aseer's trace of thought was interupted by rather unhappy emotions forcing there way into his consicous, twisting his view, Aseer noticed Seraphim struggling with her still weak wings to stay aloft, having been almost carried along down the staircase with the unfortunate apprentice. A grin crept onto Aseer's face as he scooped up the young dragon, its struggle against the forces of gravity apparent as it slowly began to descend from it's grand height of barely a metre, despite Seraphim's best efforts. 
"You can't fly yet little one." sent Aseer as Seraphim settled on his shoulder,
"Now that depends on your definition of flying." replied the drake, stretching her wings with pride. "What is this Necromancy? It sounds most intriguing...bringing back the dead to fight your wars. Your kinds are most inventive, although not to forgiving." Aseer stopped dead, hearing the dark arts spoken of so lightly was worse than heresy, yet he knew that Seraphim didn't yet know the horrors of misused powers. "It is an art that feeds of of man's desire for power and our insatiable lust for control, but such powers are never used correctly, they corrupt the user into a shell no more alive than his servants. A necromancer becomes a being sent to kill and dominate, he doesn't care who dies, for all the dead are more fodder for his opponents cannons, women, children, innocent or guilty, no-one is safe."
"But why is Modeus so upset by it! Surely a rider knowing such a skill could be a crucial member of our team, it was considered that all of my kind were deamonic beings sent forth to slaughter all life mere decades ago before the Lord first rode, such primitive superstitions can change." Aseer refused to answer the statement, following the group into Modeus' study, although making sure to stay well clear of the angered elf, Aseer noticed that there were two more human apprentices with their dragons awaiting them, one appeared to be of noble birth by the look of his clothing, the other most obviously of north. But he couldn't help to admit that Seraphim was right about one thing, a necromancer truly is a force to be reckoned with, and he hadn't heard of one plagueing the _lands_ for years, possibly even decades! They already had ammassed quite a force, nine riders and their beasts would be nigh on invincible, but if such warriors were supported by a sorcerer powerful enough to raise the dead, even if one of them fell in battle they would rise again and continue the noble fight, the forces of the dark lands would lie pitifully at their feet, and didn't the situation perhaps warrant such precautions? After all, the people of the lands not only needed heroes, but an army to defend their borders, who better to serve than the dead, already knowing full well the horrors of the dark? Shaking his head, Aseer dismissed the thoughts, he was not ready to accept the dark arts quite yet, but perhaps he could speak to Avaris about it, away from the High Lord ofcourse, suddenley Modeus slammed a fist down onto his desk, accompanied by the crackling energy, causing it to splinter. _FAR away from the lord,_ decided Aseer.


Taking in the room for the first time, Aseer noticed the strange architecture, although compared to the strange construction of the mountain fortress he had already seen, he was none too surprised. 
"You may address me as Ser Jerome, or Lord Jerome, both are suitable and appropriate.”
Aseer smiled despite himself, he wondered what exactly a duke-son would do when he came upon the immoveable object of humility that is Extraxi. _Well it looks like the elf has found a friend. _thought Seraphim, having the same idea as him. Aseer passed the young noble, he had seen more than enough of their kind to know that they generally fell into two categories, and this one seemed to be of the pompous brat variety, however the young northwoman appeared to be an enigma, she was incredibly pale, more so than anyone Aseer had ever known, and her hair appeared as if it was as white as snow, although the look in her eyes reminded Aseer of the predatory animals who roamed the forests, often competing with him for game.
The woman remained silent, sizing up the group, _Well she looks proffessional. _Seraphim stopped grooming herself and took note of the apprentices in the room before, seemingly uniterested, returned to the far more important job of comforting her tired muscles. 
"I am the she wolf of the mountains… I mean my name is Adalstienn.” anounced the northwoman rather aprubtly, "What or who has set off our host?" Aseer walked over to the group replying, "The _what_ would be Avariss, he might've mentioned a thing or two about necromancy. We all now know NEVER to bring up said art with the High Lord Modeus lest we enjoy a swift exit down a spiral staircase." The woman appeared to take in the answer, seeming to take the mention of the dark art rather well, at least on the outside, _*Very *proffessional_. Suddenley a shriek was let out from the the conversation between Extraxi and the new comer, drawing his atention back to the heated, as of yet verbal, conflict. "This ought to be interesting..." mused Aseer outloud, he turned to the northwoman again, "Who's your most humble friend? I think he has insulted our most esteemed Extraxi." Aseer then put on his best imitation of an over the top posh accent, " I do say! How rude of me for not introducing myself to such a fine lady! My name is Aseer Solvade, first son of the *most* esteemed house of Baron Solvade." he finished with a very pompous bow, "It is a pleasure Miss She Wolf." Seraphim rolled her eyes in dismay.


----------



## Midge913

His masters reaction to Avariss' question was not what Andaleth had expected. Andaleth thought he could feel the build up of magical power, coalescing around Modeus. He watched as the Dragon Lord spun on his heel, purple lightning flickering around his right fist, and punched Avariss square in the stomach. He heard the sickening thud and the sound of Avariss' breath rushing out of him do to the impact, which sent the Dark Elf tumbling down the stairs past the group of apprentices. From the top of the stairs Modeus roared down at Avariss, and though Andaleth could not understand the language he used, his masters tone was clear. Necromancy was an off limit topic, more appropriately the knowledge of Necromancy seemed off topic for Modeus had spoken of Necromancers long defeated as well as answered Uthiat's questions regarding the foul art. 

"Well little one," Andaleth whispered to Sirrush, "that answers that. It seems that Modeus at least plans to keep that knowledge from us, all the better I would think. We need to be watchful though, if Avariss, or any of the other apprentices continue their search for this knowledge, they must be prevented from doing so." Sirrush gave a small growl of assent, but otherwise remained silent. Amber eyes staring back down the hallway where Avariss had gone. 

With a loud bang, Modeus kicked open the door at the top of the stairs and disappeared into the room beyond. Following along, Andaleth found that they had come to a large and well apportioned study. One wall was completely covered in books, tomes, and scrolls. Andaleth couldn't help but become excited about the wealth of knowledge that he stood to gain from his apprenticship. The other side of the room was entirely dedicated to weapons and armor racks. Closing his eyes and concentrating Andaleth could feel the pulse of magic imminating from each of the pieces and was amazed at the wealth that these armaments represented. The thief in him couldn't help but start tallying the amounts in his head. Just an armful of these treasures would make someone rich beyond all measure. Shaking his head to clear such thoughts, that life was behind him, he took in the rest of his surroundings. 

What he hadn't noticed as he came in, distracted as he was by the books and weapons, were the two new apprentices that apparently had been waiting for them in the room. One was a Northwoman. She was dressed in furs and covered in tattoos and scars. Clearly she appeared a capable warrior. She stood in the corner watching the rest of the group, quiet appraisal in her gaze. The other Andaleth recoginzed, if not by name, but by family. His coat of arms clearly announced that he was of the Savoi family, and his features bore a striking resemblance to the Lord Savoi, a son perhaps. "This could make things uncomfortable," Andaleth mumbled to Sirrush, "I have history with that family, though I doubt the lordling would know anything of it. Be on your guard Sirrush just in case things go sour. I will tell you of the reasons later." 

“I am Jerome Du’Savoi, son of Duke Savoi; the Bastion of the West," Jerome intoned, confirming Andaleth's inference. “You may address me as Ser Jerome, or Lord Jerome, both are suitable and appropriate.” 

"Typical," Andaleth thought. Nobility was always so predictable. He decided that he would do what he always did when it came to nobles, ingore them until it was impossible to do so, in this case especially. 

"Lord" Jerome introduced his drake as Oberon and Andaleth couldn't help but notice it was a fine specimen of a bronze dragon. Sirrush eyed the new drake with interest from Andaleth's shoulder. 

“In that case ‘Lord Jerome’ you may refer to me as Prince Extraxi,” Extraxi said, mockery clear in his tone, and Andaleth watched Jerome stiffen at being addressed in such a manner. Andaleth felt the tension grow between the two men almost instantaneously and moved closer to where they were standing in the room. “You would find it suitable to refer to me like that, the others may call me Extraxi or anything else as long as they do not get on my bad side,” Extraxi said and then nodded down to Jerome’s dragon,“greetings young one, I hope you have more sense than your master and help to keep him on track.”
This did not bode well. Jerome began to bluster at Extraxi's words, and when Extraxi leaned in and said something else that Andaleth could not hear, the man became positively enraged. 

"I treat you with courtesy and you throw it back in my face?" Jerome was clearly angry "I suppose i can expect no better from a dark elf, though i had thought as one of the so called 'elder races' you would have more honour than that. Were you a man i would demand satisfaction for your insults and threats. But you are only an elf, so i will forgive you if you have no concept of honour or respect." 

Andaleth had had enough and stepped in between the two. " Gentlemen," he began, "I think that you both should watch your words. Jerome you should take care in how you sling insults towards the elven races as we have several in our group, not to mention that Modeus himself is a dark elf. Outside of this keep you may have station and standing, but inside you are an apprentice just like any other. All of us have left lives behind, both of standing or ill repute, to come learn from the First Rider, and if you ask my opinion that puts us all on the same level. Here your name will not earn you respect, merely your actions."

Taking a breath Andaleth addressed Extraxi, "My friend I don't know what irked you so in Jerome's greeting." Andaleth made sure to put a slight emphasis on the lack of title, "But I think that all things considered, hostility is not necessary." 

Eying them both, Andaleth was satisfied that further words were not going to be exchanged between the two, whether as a result of his intervention or some other factor was irrelevant. These men were to be companions for close to a decade during their training as far as he understood it, and Andaleth refused to walk around on eggshells due to conflicts that were unnecessary. Fortunately an uneasy silence fell between the two as the Northwoman approached and introduced herself to the group. 

“I am the she wolf of the mountains… I mean my name is Adalstienn.” There was no need to say her unofficial title but it was all people knew her by. “This little one is Bergdis; which means rescue goddess for those of you not accustomed to my language.” 

Aseer walked over to the group replying, "The what would be Avariss, he might've mentioned a thing or two about necromancy. We all now know NEVER to bring up said art with the High Lord Modeus lest we enjoy a swift exit down a spiral staircase." Aseer continued,"Who's your most humble friend? I think he has insulted our most esteemed Extraxi." Aseer then put on his best imitation of an over the top posh accent, " I do say! How rude of me for not introducing myself to such a fine lady! My name is Aseer Solvade, first son of the most esteemed house of Baron Solvade." he finished with a very pompous bow, "It is a pleasure Miss She Wolf." 

Andaleth couldn't help but smile at Aseer's flippant manner, because for the most part he agreed with the man. He just hoped that it didn't set the conflict off again. 

"Greetings Adalstienn and to you Bergdis," Andaleth said. "I am Andaleth Veto and this is Sirrush."


----------



## komanko

It all happened so quickly, so quickly that Avariss could do nothing but take the hit. 

As the question was asked Avariss could see Modeus's back stiffening as he came to a full halt. In less than a second the dragon lord spun around to face Avariss, anger and rage marking his lordly features. 

Before Avariss could mutter anything in return a lightning engulfed fist connected with his chest, the blow was so powerful that it tore any breath that Avariss had in his lungs. His body twisted forwards and he was propelled in the air and sent flying down stairs. 

In the last moment before he could do nothing but fly down he managed to pull Gresth'Thoth from his shoulder and grab him in his hand. The dragon squirmed for a moment because of the force applied but he stopped when he saw the fist launching towards Avariss's chest. 

As Avariss flew down the stairs he hugged the dragon successfully pinning him down and forcing him against his chest. When Avariss began rolling down the stairs he took the full force of the blow, his dragon probably did not even feel it. In a way this was a redeeming action though Avariss did not notice it. It proved that Voice did not have full control over him and that he was capable of good beneath his mask of grim morbidness. 

As he began rolling down he heard shots from above, they were in the language of the dark elves, something which he did not hear for a long time. Yet the shouts were unclear to him, he was to busy with trying to stay in one piece as he hit each and every stair while he was rolling down. 

While he rolled down he could hair footsteps going up and he guessed that no one was going to wait for him. A pity. It seemed that people were afraid of knowledge now days. Such fear will only lead to their own downfall. Well, at least he thought the others a lesson, they would know... 

Before the thought finished formulating in his mind Avariss's head hit one of the stairs and he could feel a wound opening across his forehead, blood gushing down from it like a stream of a waterfall. The blood flowed down, reaching everywhere. As he continued rolling down all he could see was red as the blood filled his eyes, nostrils and mouth, its smell sharp as the pain which was caused by the wound. 

Finally after what seemed like eternity Avariss came to a halt. He finally managed to stop the momentum he received from the blow and bring himself to a halt. Avariss quickly stood up on four and began coughing wildly and spitting blood and saliva. He took quick and short breaths as he continued coughing. 

His chest seared with pain from the magical blow and he cursed, he cursed Modeus to find his way to all the hells, he cursed him so much like he never did anytime before. Damn the dragon lord and damn his narrow minded idiocy. 

Slowly Avariss stood up still coughing, he saw that Gresh'Thoth was looking at his blood interestingly an hungry look in his eyes. "*It is not my blood that you should be longing for dragonling*." He said in a quiet and menacing tone. The two headed dragon quickly refocused his gaze and looked at his shamed companion. "*Modeus will pay one day*!" He spat, talking half to himself and half to anyone who would listen. 

The blood kept gushing from the wound on his forehead, yet he did nothing about it. He took out his knife and cut the left sleeve of his robe. He didn't bother tieing it against his head, he had no time for such nonsense. Instead he used it to wipe the blood from his face. What Avariss could not see was the fact that it did nothing but stain his face even further. It was true that there was no blood in his eyes now yet several parts of his face were now filled with red spots of blood. 

"*I wish not to hear any words of mockery from you Gresh'Thoth. Its time to go back up, we are wasting time and valuable knowledge by taking so much time down here*." The dragon's heads both nodded and again the dragon leapt up on Avariss's shoulder. He could hear it sniffing the smell of blood which was across his face. For a moment he thought he felt a cold touch against his skin, one which resembled a tongue. 

Slowly Avariss began making the annoying journey back up. If the Dragon Lord hoped that Avariss sought forgiveness after that than he was up for a big surprise. He might've apologized if the lord wouldn't have acted like a buffoon, like an idiot. The man had no idea how valuable such knowledge was, his narrow minded views on magic would bring doom the a whole tree of knowledge as rotten as it was, things like that had to be learned to better combat their effects. 

As Avariss finally reached the point where he fell earlier he heard a soft and friendly voice coming from his right shoulder. It was Gresh'Thoth he recognized the voice although they met only a night ago. "*We appreciate what you did, thank you for protecting us*." Both the heads spoke simultaneously, *"If its of any consolation we both think that even if such knowledge is dangerous it should be learned*." 

Avariss smiled again, surprised by the dragon's intelligence and flattered by its thanking. "*No need to thank me friends. While you are small I am your protector and once you shall grow you will protect me one day*." He said. *"Its a mutual pact which we shall both honor proudly I hope."* 

After that he moved forward in silence finally reaching a set of doors which seemed like they were nearly torn from its hinges. He guessed that it was the work of Modeus who decided to show how angry he was. Typical idiocy, no admiration for fine craftsmanship. All he ever cares about is destroying Avariss thought poisonously. 

The close proximity to Modeus made Avariss's on anger sear. His eyes glowed in a slight dark green color, like when he was casting a spell. He did not mind, he did not feel like he should restrain his anger. He had every right to be mad at the person who just threw him halfway down through the staircase. 

As he entered he registered two new figures. Likely apprentices. One clad in furs, a woman, probably a northmen. She was short for a northwoman if Bjor was one to judge by. She resembled an elf more than a human something which Avariss thought flattering in a way. Pale skin resembled the snow white hair that she had. Blue eyes burrowed in his mind, he felt like her cold gaze is penetrating his skin and seeing directly into his mind. He shuddered, she scared him in an unnatural way. 

The second figure was a human, a normal man. From his standing he could tell that he was a nobleman of sorts. He seemed to be holding himself high and mighty above everyone else. His ignorance and self love shone like the rays of the sun. Ironically the most eye catching feature about him was his armor, a full plate one. Definitely an expensive suit. 

Avariss looked around and saw that the room was part library part armory. A mixture of both each side dedicated to a different art. One of literature and one of war. Although in a way this statement was false. Books can be used for war as well. The room itself was big and everyone easily fit into it. A droplet of blood traveled across his face leaving a trail of blood and finally it fell from his chin down on the stone floor successfully staining it. 

As he approached the group of apprentices the last thing he could hear was Aseer addressing the northwoman with a pompous tone and introducing himself in an over the top way. Avariss strode with big steps through the hall. When he reached Aseer he wiped his face with his left hand which was sleeveless now, his tattoos easily seen, his markings of fel magic easily visible. 

When he wiped the blood from his mouth and face he shook his arm once strongly and stained the floor below him with blood. "*Idiot*." He said, addressing Aseer. *"Northman are not as normal humans, they are not bound by the laws of the high courts. You have no need to humiliate you with formal introductions. You better direct them at the royalty nearby*." He said and pointed at the new apprentice. 

After that he addressed the northwomen, "*Avariss Phyraere, warlock. Nice to meet. I would have shook your hand but I don't want to stain your furs with blood which was not spilled by you*." He said and smiled mockingly. "*Although I am sure that you are capable of spilling your own share of blood*." He added. "*This is Gresh'Thoth.*" He pointed at the dragon who was traveling across his shoulders. Both heads turned to the northwomen and nodded slightly. He spat on the ground, emptying his mouth from the blood gathered and waited for an answer or any kind of confirmation of understanding.


----------



## Otep

Adalstienn wasn’t accustomed to the attention she was getting from the other apprentices. The nobel that was in the room addressed her as “miss she wolf” obviously he had no idea who she was out side these walls.

“I have two questions. Why are you called the she wolf of the mountains? And what dose the warlock mean?” asked Bergdis in an inquisitive tone.

Adalstienn smiled softly, her little sister couldn’t of asked the two best questions to mock the people showing her such affection. She made sure that her words were loud enough to be heard by the other apprentices.

“I am called the she wolf of the mountains because of what I did. I would watch caravans for days that traveled on the mountain sides of my home land. After finding patterns in their guard duties and routines, I would set an ambush for them. Killing every man, woman and child systematically. I would only take what I needed; Arrows and books mostly. I did this for seven years and after a while I was given that title.”

"Why in the name of the gods would you do that!?” Bergdis half screeched.

“As a child, my father said I had been kissed by winter before my birth. That is why I look as I do. How ever, I was said to have the cold eyes of an assassin; cold, ruthless and uncaring as the cold winter nights of my home. 

He also said that eventually, I will grow tired of my prey. And I would either have to accept the mundane hunts or start hunting larger more cunning beasts. Eventually I hunted all there was except for the white dragons. All I had left to hunt was people. No logical reason as to why they do things, the ability to react and plan effectively. They were the perfect prey and I bested every one that fell into my sights.”

“I guess that makes sense… a hunter targeting new prey for the thrill of the hunt.” Bergdis softly chirped.

“And to answer your question about the warlock, it is simple. Nobility foolishly believe that everyone is beneath them because it is their birth right. The people of the north see such an idea as idiotic. The position they claim to have can only be granted through spilling blood in glorious combat. The fact they believe that they have a position of respect and honor through their blood line is an insult.”

Adalstienn smiled. The warlock seemed to understand her culture and dabbled in forbidden magic. His thirst for power through the magic he was assaulted for was apparent and Adalstienn respected that. 

“Avariss Phyraere it is a pleasure to be of an acquaintance to a man such as yourself.”


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Meldiriel seemed to enjoy herself as she listened. “…I traveled through that area almost two seasons ago. Nice people and a lot of farmland.”
_You travel around a lot don’t you?
_“Yes I suppose I do,” Uthiat replied.
_Why?
_Uthiat blinked. “I haven’t thought about it for some time. I guess it was to learn.”
_Learn what?
_“Anything, everything. There would have been some minor position for me at home. Rather hard to learn when my family would require me to work or to find a woman in court to further my status. I found that there was a greater chance to better myself outside of my family.”
_Will we meet your family?
_“I would think so. One of these days I would be overjoyed to introduce you to them.”
_When was the last time you saw them?
_“Umm,” Uthiat began. His mind raced, 5 years? Yes that sounded about right. Wait no it was longer than that. He had seen a brother in one of the border towns near the edge of the planes. That was the winter he walked to the south lands. A quick glance at a page of date notations reminded him of the date, 15 years. He hadn’t been home to his family in almost 40 years. 

As Uthiat prepared to speak again the word was spoken. It made the elf halt any words he might have said. Necromancy. What did the daemon touched want with that knowledge? It was forbidden to the extreme. Modeus’s reply was very blunt. It didn’t take much to tell that the dark elf was enraged at the question. Uthiat could pick up several words from his own language, and from some things he had learned from his travels.

_What was that about?_ Meldiriel asked after she released her grasp from the sudden strike.
“A very foul magic. Knowledge that no mortal should take lightly.”

The journey ended at a massive set of doors. As Modeus opened them Uthiat’s eyes lit up. Books, so many books. This was some kind of study filled with knowledge, something that excited the high elf. There were also magic items mounted within the room. As his eyes traced the shelves Uthiat noticed two other apprentices standing there as well.

Of the two new faces one approached. He bowed in the fashion of many of the human courts. “Nobility,” Uthiat whispered. When Lord Jerome introduced himself. Extraxi quickly stepped forward, and they two began to exchange curt remarks. “Oh my,” Uthiat whispered again. 
_They seem agitated over their names. Why is that? 
_“Well it appears that both are nobility. They’re trying to establish dominance.”
_Is your family royalty?
_“I gave up clams to that when I became a mage. Besides if you aren’t the first son it will not pass to you,” the high elf looked at the human, “And he doesn’t strike me as a ‘Duke to be.’”

Then the woman introduced herself. There was a quick exchange of names from many of them. Uthiat listened and waited for a moment to introduce himself. 

First he approached Adalstienn. “My name is Uthiat Alenaneldth. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said bowing his head slightly, “And this is Meldiriel.” The small dragon mimicked the head bow. “Might I ask from where in the Northlands you hail? I would have to say that title is one I have heard once or twice, though I never understood the meaning.” Uthiat quietly listening to the reply with a pleasant expression of curiosity.

The second approach was direct. “Uthiat Alenaneldth,” the elf introduced himself to the human, Jerome. Uthiat took the occasion to bow, while not as grandiose in depth as the human had, he opened his hands. The symbol was not one of nobility but of the caravaneers, a symbol of trade or partnership. “And this is Meldiriel,” he finished. The small dragon bowed her head slightly and eyed the other dragonling.

“Son of Duke Savoi. I believe I have visited your lands recently, well I say recently I believe it has been several seasons. Came in with a trade caravan, let me see…” Uthiat let his gaze trail away from the human as he remembered, “Four summers ago. Rather a large tournament happening at the time. Enjoyed watching myself though, I could not join in the festivities. Not much of a swordsman myself.” The high elf smiled slightly, “You introduced yourself as Ser did you not? Quite a difference from Lord. I believe a title adopted by the knights of that area if I am not mistaken.” The elf grabbed his book and flipped to a page containing two columns of names, and began to add two to each column before turning his attention back Jerome.


----------



## revan4559

Adalstienn: After greeting the dark elf Avariss you see out of the corner of your eye the Dragon Lord Modeus slamming the heads of Jerome and Extraxi together for acting like pompus spoilt arrogant brats which makes you laugh slightly along with your dragon before you return your attention back to the High Elf, Dark Elf and Southern human now standing around you as the other human(Aseer) has moved off to go and inspect the weapons, while trying to decide what to do you can see that Avariss is contemplating something and Andaleth is keeping an eye on Jerome and Extraxi incase they do anything. So far even though you have been watching him like a hawk since he entered you have found no possible weak spots or openings in the Dragon Lords defenses or stance which to you seems impossible as everything has a weak point, though you get the feeling if you tried to actually attack him you might be able to find a weak point though you will most likely need to explain to Lord Modeus after attacking why you did such unless of course when ever he fights he fights to kill his opponent which you hope he doesn't. So it is your choice if you try to 'provoke' the Dragon Lord.

Jerome: As you and the elf Extraxi argue between yourselves the human named Andaleth tries to calm both of you down before the high elf named Uthait introduces himself and tries to change the topic completely. But before you or Extraxi can turn away from each other you feel the cold touch of a metalic hand grip the back of your head and before you know it yours and the dark elves foreheads collide, luckily as you are slightly shorter than the elf you don't meet his forehead square on and inside end up hitting the top of his nose. As you reel back from being forced to head but each other you look to see who was foolish enough to make you butt heads with the elf but you then see that it was infact Modeus who has you gripped by the back of the head and it seems his foul mood has lessened slightly though he is still angry enough to inflict physical punishment upon you. Whether you shout at it wasn't your fault about the argument or decree that Modeus has no right to lay his hands upon you is up to you, but what are you currently thinking? How is the pain in your head, and do you say anything to Modeus or Extraxi?

Uthiat: Before Jerome has a chance to answer you you see Lord Modeus appear between himand Extraxi before promptly slamming the heads together which you quickly assume is to do with them both argueing with each other about nobility and that within this order everyone is equal no matter who they are or where they came from. After slamming the heads together Modeus stands there and looks at them both before looking around his study again trying to find something. Perhaps you could ask what Modeus is looking for or even offer to help him? While deciding what to do you notice that Extraxi now has a nose bleed from where Jerome's head slammed into his head which is one of the disadventages of being an elf as when dwarves and humans do get the chance to head butt the elder races they tend to always hit the nose which so far you have been lucky enough not to have done to you. While waiting for Jerome to say something you do get the impulse to walk around the study and see what kind of books there are and what they are about and even maybe take a look at the magical weapons.

Andaleth: After moving away from Extraxi and Jerome you go over to introduce yourself to the Norse-Woman and are joined by Aseer and even Avariss who seems to have quickly made his way back up the stairs to join the group, but while your attention is focused on Adalstienn you hear a thud of two fleshy things hitting each other and turn to see Extraxi and Jerome reeling away from each other clutching their nose and head(respectively) with the Dragon Lord holding onto the back of their heads. It appears that Modeus agree's with you in that while you are all within the order there will be no difference between class and status other than what you do while part of the order which seems to be a rather knew way of thinking as all of the races save for the dwarves tend to believe that if you are born into noblity and power than others have to do what you say but this could prove to spark another situation should Jerome and/or Extraxi turn on your master as with his near 'mythic' history he could be anything from the eldest son of a king to a normal commoner which could cause problems especially if either of your 'friends' decides to tell their family about what is going on. Do you walk over to Modeus and stand by his side just incase he needs help or will you stay where you are incase Modeus decides to excercise more of his magical might?

Avariss: As you spit on the ground a mop appears and mops away the blood and spit while no-one is holding it and you can easily sense magic about this mop and quickly come to the conclusion that it is enchanted to clean any liquid that is split on the floor. After introducing yourself you hear two people's heads being slammed together and turn to see Extraxi and Jerome's heads being slammed together by Modeus which makes you slighly relieved he isn't inflicting any more pain upon you but just makes you hate him more as you wonder why he uses physical punishment which is so much more primitive than magical punishment. After turning away from the scene you look back to Adalstienn to hear explaining to her dragon about what a warlock is while her knowledge on it is basic you could always explain more to her about what exactly a warlock is and what they do in order to gain the power to accomplish their goals. Whether or not you decide to explain about your powers infront of two humans and an elven mage is up to you as the High Elves tend to have a large distruct for the daemonic arts of Fel Magic.

Extraxi: As you continue to argue with the human 'noble' you hear Uthait and Andaleth try to interject but ignore them completely as you focus upon dealing with the arrogant human infront of you. Before you can say another word however you feel the grip of a metalic hand grip the back of your hand and before your elven reflexes can stop you from moving your head is pushed forward and slams straight into the forehead of the the human noble Jerome, while Jerome was mainly hit in teh forehead you are unlucky in that he is shorter than you so his forehead ended up slamming into the bridge of your nose. As you reel back from the hit you turn your head to see that it was infact Modeus who slammed your heads together but that 'noble' part of your brain starts to think about demanding how Modeus has the right to lay a hand on you let alone slam your head together with an arrogant mortal. However which does make you flinch is that Modeus face appears to be less annoyed than before which means he isn't making you head butt each other in anger but is most likely to teach you a lesson and to shut up. What do you think about Modeus making you head butt Jerome and do you say anything to him?

Aseer: After introducing yourself the norse-woman seems to ignore you after Avariss manages to climb his way all the way back up the stairs and introduces himself and starts to talk with Analstienn which allows you and Seraphim to turn your attention towards Extraxi and Jerome just in time to see Lord Modeus slam their heads together which you assume is because they are bragging about being sons of nobles which you decide may not be a good idea to start flaunting that you are a son of a noble aswell just incase that Modeus decides to slam your head into the nearest solid object. After watching Extaxi and Jerome head butt each other you look around the room and decide to move over to look at the magical weapons to see what kind of make they are. When you do get over to the weapons you start to look over them and can clearly see that there are bows, pistols swords, axes, halberds, shields and even full sets of plate armour and under closer inspection you can see that while some are cleary dwarven or elven in design there are some styles which you have never seen before. Perhaps you could ask Modeus about the strange weapons and armour?

OOC: Bjor and Kell are being moved to NPC for the moment. As AoB is moving house and Bjor just needs to pm me.


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## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

(ooc) Im sorry Im like 20 minutes late I had no computer for a while and just typed it up... Could you please quickly add me? Or no?

Morrak was silenced by shock when he heard all that was told to him. How much stories could be blown out of proportion astounded him! Of course… He knew what that was like. He had always had a hard time with the Dragon attack because he was one of the few survivors. Many dwarves, particularly the younger ones, thought that he was the reason the dragon had been driven back. The truth is, he had no idea. He had been knocked over, when his Hammer glowed in his hands; he saw the runes were glowing neon blue. It was an eerie glow, but one that felt oddly familiar. Then, he was blinded by light, both from the hammer and the fire, and he felt the hammer swinging in his hands, hitting against something hard. He had flailed wildly… but was still not sure why the blows felt so oddly precise. Never had the glow come in battle again, but then, he had never needed it again, as he could normally beat all who opposed him.

“Morrak! Are you alright?” Valerian’s voice brought Morrak out of his reverie as they walked down the halls with the rest. “Yes, little one. I… I’m fine”. “Are you sure? You looked troubled, and oddly… contemplative. Its unusual for you”. Morrak laughed at this last part. It always seemed Valerain said exactly what the problem was, while still appreciating humour. “Yer right little one… I was thinking about the dragon”. “The Golden one?” “Aye, the Golden one. From Gildukr”. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude”. Morrak smiled and patter Valerian on the head. He had developed a deep respect for Valerian in the short time they had been together.

As they continued down the halls, Morrak heard the hated work. _Necromancy!_ And of course it was Avariss who uttered it… Morrak’s hand instinctively reached for his hammer, but he was beaten to the punch, quite literally, by Modeus. He heard Dark Elvish screaming, and he shuddered at the sound. He had zero desire to understand what was spoken at that moment…

Modeus lead Morrak and the others into a room filled with books and weapons. Morrak is only interested in one half, but Valerian seems oddly interested in the books. “Morrak, will you teach me to read?” “Well Valerian, if you really want to I can teach you Common and my dialect of Dwarvish, but that’s all…” “It will be enough, thank you”. Then, Morrak saw to figures standing in the room that he had never seen before. The first rather pompously introduced himself as “Jerome Du’Savoi, son of Duke Savoi; the Bastion of the West”. “Why is his name so long?” Valerian asked. Morrak laughed quietly and answered, “He is nobility. The human noble insufferable long names with titles that do little do describe them. It is a way to make themselves seem better than those they are with. The more titles, the more important they are seen as. Rut’snaga…” “What was that last?” "In my tongue it means that they are slaves to their pride. It affects all the land and they still do it…”

Morrak noticed there seemed to be a battle of titles between Extraxi and Jerome, and pointed this out to Valerian. “Look at em, they look about ready to kill each other over titles. That is what happens…”

A clear, icy voice cut through their incessant arguing. The Northwoman introduced herself as the she wolf Adalstienn and her dragon as Bergdis, who huddled around her leg. Morrak heard his friend Aseer answer the she wolf’s questions, and then introduced himself to her. They seemed to be getting along nicely… “That one seems to have almost as big an ego as the other two, with all their titles”. “Maybe, little one, but I think that’s why I like him so much, he doesn’t let it blow him up too much.” “hmm…”

The rest all introduced themselves, until finally it was Morrak’s turn. “I am Morrak Aerg, of the Ironhammer Clan. Indeed, the very clan hosting this little… party of ours. I am formerly of the fallen fortress Glidukr, and I was there one the night the winged demon destroyed it.” “And I am Valerian”. Morrak was astounded that Valerian had made himself heard in all the minds of those assembled. It was quite a feat for one so young. The bantering continued of course, as one would expect from all the inflated egos around.


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## Rems

Focused on the dark elf Extraxi, Jerome was completely unprepared for Modeus’ actions. His grip tightened on his sword’s pommel as a gauntleted hand gripped the back of his head. Oberon hissed a warning beside him, a split second in advance. Before Jerome could act however he found his head violently thrust forward into Extraxi’s, his forehead slamming into the bridge of the taller elf’s nose with a distinctive crunch. Jerome stumbled back, head ringing. Shaking his head to clear it he grinned through the throbbing pain in his head thinking, _I hope that broke the cur’s nose_. 

The corperal punishment was a shock to Jerome. Never before had someone dared to lay hands on his person in such a manner. Jerome was not fool enough to protest however, and held his tongue, words of protest dying on his lips as he thought of the Dragon Lord’s likely further reaction. “Modeus does not take well to bickering 
apprentices it seems” sent Oberon, the thought speech flashing into Jerome’s mind. “No, nor does it seem he has any sense of subtlety.” Jerome sent back. 

Unwilling to press the issue Jerome stepped back from Extraxi, whispering with venom as he swept past, “This is not over”. Oberon hissed lightly in sympathy, flicking his tail. 
Forcing a smile onto his face Jerome walked over to the other apprentices. 

“Uthiat Alenaneldth,” an elf introduced himself as. He was an amiable, scholarly looking fellow, perhaps a mage judged Jerome. Jerome smiled as Uthiat bowed, pleased that some at least had decent courtesy. “And this is Meldiriel,” he finished. The small dragon bowed her head slightly and eyed the other dragonling. As he introduced the golden dragon perched on his shoulder both Jerome and Oberon bowed their heads in greeting. Oberon studying the golden wyrmling with deep amber eyes. “Your scales shine bright Meldiriel” said Oberon in appreciation. “Mine own are not so hued” he spoke, referring to his own, bronze form.

The elf continued. “Son of Duke Savoi. I believe I have visited your lands recently, well I say recently I believe it has been several seasons. Came in with a trade caravan, let me see “Four summers ago. Rather a large tournament happening at the time. Enjoyed watching myself though, I could not join in the festivities. Not much of a swordsman myself.” The high elf smiled slightly, “You introduced yourself as Ser did you not? Quite a difference from Lord. I believe a title adopted by the knights of that area if I am not mistaken.” Jerome’s eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance at these words. 

“Your manner does you credit Ulthiat, i thank you. I know the tournament you speak off, Ser Baldren swept the field that day. I myself came third.” Began Jerome, nodding again.“As to your question Ser is indeed the title granted to knights of Bel’ Angrath.” Pausing a moment, he continued in a more humble tone than before. “I would ask you to call me Ser if you do not wish to use ‘Lord’, for i have earned my knighthood.” Jerome’s voice dropped lower, and hesitancy began to creep into his speech. “Perhaps you could also help smooth my introductions with the others? I fear i have not made a very good impression” he admitted, a reproachful look across his face.


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## Santaire

Extraxi reeled back. His nose had slammed into Jerome's forehead but Extraxi did not even think about getting angry. He realised what he had been saying and realised that he shouldn't have, the way Jerome had spoken had annoyed him because Extraxi, though he had given up his claim to his father's position, hated to be treated like a base born cur. He realised that this was what had caused him to react so violently. When Jerome hissed in his ear “this is not over,” Extraxi merely stood still and ignored Oberon's hiss.

When he heard Jerome speaking to Uthiat Extraxi turned and walked slowly towards him. He had mastered his anger and wanted to make amends, whether Jerome accepted depended on his character. He stood behind the young human and waited for him to finish talking to Uthiat and then with a nod to the High Elf mage he cleared his throat. When Jerome turned he spoke "I apologise for my anger earlier, sometimes I forget myself when being spoken to by a noble and become angry. I am the son of a noble but I left his household and so have no right to call myself anything unlike you. I will stay out of your way if you wish but I would prefer to merely get over with this pathetic argument that I started." Extraxi stood in front of the Duke's son, arms by his side but hand well away from the hilt of his dagger to show he meant peace...


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat watched as Modeus struck the two heads together.
_Rather violent isn’t he?_ the small voice entered his mind.
“It would appear so yes,” The elf whispered back.

After a moment the human, Jerome, replied to his introduction. Meldiriel flicked her tail. _You appear to be another form of ‘wurmling’ I believe Uthiat has said. He has told me some of our kind and I have seen that no two of us here are the same._
Uthiat listened quietly. Before he spoke Extraxi apologized. 
“I will see what I can accomplish, though it may take some time, and it appears that many here are set against titles of nobility,” He kept his tone low. He smiled, “Ser it shall be my friend.” Uthiat looked up to Extraxi. “Now it seems an olive branch has been extended. If there is something I have learned in my work there is nothing greater than an opportunity to mend negotiations.” He gave a head bow to the pair. “If you will excuse me I believe our host is searching for something.” The elf lowered his voice so that others would not hear. “And he may need more soothing than any other at the moment.”

As Uthiat approached he glanced around. So many books, it would take a year or two for him to study them all. The prospect brought him excitement. He glanced to several titles before his eyes moved to the items littering the walls. Items of power, something he was expecting to find after all he had seen. Lifetimes of work were placed here, some more valuable than others.

_Is this wise?_ The small voice of Meldiriel entered his mind. There was some fear in the question.
“I hope it is,” Uthiat whispered back, “But you may need to walk beside me incase something happens.”

“Master Modeus, might I ask what it is you are seeking? Perhaps I can assist you.” Uthiat asked with his customary smile. Despite his normal tone and stance he was already prepared for violence to be unleashed upon him.


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## Yru0

Aseer listened to this 'she-wolf's' reply, and his smile slowly dissapeared from his face, a shadow passing over his features, which mere moments ago were friendly and jovial. This women was a raider, a bandit, a muderer. Aseer had hunted their kind ruthlessley throughout his life, the posh upper echelons of the nobility could escape their responsibility, sending out their minions to do their biding, but the likes of Aseer all to often were called upon by their people to bring peace to their lives from pitiless hunters of the wilds. Gone were days of hunting game and lighthearted contests gambled upon in pubs, the winnings wasted upon on the house drinks for your defeated comrades, replaced by cold calculation and dealing of righteous justice upon those who dare plague the human territories. Aseer had been brought up with one essential lesson kept in mind, one that all of the citizenry were indoctrinated with, whether they be prince or pauper, _Fear the Bandit, Hunt the Raider._ Aseer however, had held out hopes for these _people_ thinking that they were merely misguided, or the victims of poor leadership, but this norsewomen saw the innocents she slaughtered as nothing more than prey or game. She was no better than the nobility she so dispised. "Idiot." muttered Avariss, wiping away blood. Aseer glanced at his fellow apprentice, his insults were true and his anger pointless, but Aseer felt more kin with the elf than with the woman standing before him. He trusted Modeus, but he could see no reason to bring such filth into the fortress, although Aseer had forfeited his say when he set off to the dwarven kingdoms, _I hope the Lord knows what he's doing._ Seraphim looked up at him with a questioning look, but Aseer felt no will to answer the unasked question; he stared into the cold eyes of the norse woman as she spoke, he saw no compassion, no pity, no mercy,and no regret for the lives she had snuffed. It was the large _SMACK!_ of the two boasting nobles' skull clashing together that brought Aseer back to the present."Well Avariss, she's all yours." raising his hands, Aseer turned and walked away.

Aseer slowly managed to bring his breathing under control and tear his grip away from his knife, it was not the time or the place for anything rash. Shaking his head to rid himself of the conversation that plagued his mind, Aseer made his way in no general direction, but found himself near the weapon armoury that lay on shelves and walls across the left of the room. In truly was an impresive arsenal, brute weapons that Aseer generally passed over seemed to draw him in, magical auras emanating from their hilts and spiked ends, but it was the ranged weaponry that drew his attention. Bows that seemed to be carved from rock or flawless bone, or one that even was almost totally encrusted with rare gems were scattered across the room, weapons that should never work but which almost dared the user to doubt their capability for death and destruction. Pistols also lined the shelves, such powerful weapons were never used for hunting mere game, Aseer himself had only ever fired one of the weapons to kill a single time in his life. As the memory brought back his previous conversation, Aseer pushed it aside. Such weapons had no place but war. What is the Lord up to? Seraphim could sense the auras radiating out from the arms far better than Aseer and seemed to be both intimidated and curious of the deadly devices.
Why does the first rider have such an array of weapons? Aseer couldn't help but ask himself the same question, but he wasn't sure of himself enough to answer his drake, although a nagging voice kept telling him, _Such weapons have no place but war....._
"Lord Modeus!" called Aseer, banishing his thoughts, "I recognise some of these weapons, but most seem both impossible and alien. What are they capable of, and where in the lands did you aquire them?" _and for what purpose old man...._


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## Midge913

“I am called the she wolf of the mountains because of what I did. I would watch caravans for days that traveled on the mountain sides of my home land. After finding patterns in their guard duties and routines, I would set an ambush for them. Killing every man, woman and child systematically. I would only take what I needed; Arrows and books mostly. I did this for seven years and after a while I was given that title.”

Andaleth's eyes narrowed at the callous manner in which Adalstienn spoke of killing innocents. Andaleth had done things in his past that he was not proud off, things of necessity. There were lines that he refused to cross, much to the dismay of those who had attempted to contract him to do things that were unthinkable. 

Quietly he said to Sirrush, "I hear no malice in her words little one, but the act of killing women and children is a sin that cannot be forgiven. It is monstrous."
_
" I agree," _Sirrush answered, Scorn and disgust evident in his tone. _"To kill young or egglings is a crime punishable by death in my race as well. I will never trust that one Andaleth..... It would be a shame if her values were passed to Bergdis, though by her reaction she was startled as well."_

Andaleth noticed that Aseer had a similar reaction to Adalstienn's comments, and thought that the man could become a fast ally. It seemed that he shared similar opinions on things and if the stalwart Morrak had taken to him, that spoke volumes to Andaleth. The Dwarves, whatever else they were good at, were excellent judges of character. 

A loud thump behind him grabbed Andaleth's attention and he turned to see Modeus standing next to Extraxi and Jerome, both were holding their heads and Modeus, a hand twisted into each man's hair, was giving each a look that more than adequately displayed his displeasure at their attitudes and behavior. 

Modeus' actions seemed to have an effect on each man as Jerome moved over and was speaking to Uthiat in hushed tones and Extraxi had approached the two and all three seemed to be conversing civily. 

Modeus was still searching in his desk for whatever it was that he was looking for and Andaleth took the opportunity to once again look at his fellow apprentices. This group... seemed to be doomed to collapse upon itself if they all couldn't find a common ground. Andaleth hoped that they found it soon or this was going to be a long road to travel.


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## Rems

As Ultithat moved away Extraxi came up to Jerome again. The young noble turned on the dark elf with narrowed eyes. The suspicion in his face slowly ebbed as the elf's apology came out. Having said his peace the elf stepped back, arms outstretched. 

Such behaviour was new to Jerome, for in the courtly politics he was accustomed to one either made fast friends or grievous enemies. Here however was someone putting aside their pride to make amends. It was unusual to say the least._ "Accept his apology"_, came Oberon's voice in Jerome's head. _"It will not do to have an enemy in this foreign place"_. His dragon while short in years, seemed wise already. 

"I would be pleased to accept your apology Extraxi. I do not know if we shall ever be friends, but we are not enemies." Jerome said, smiling. "It would do me great honour if you were to call me Ser, but i shall not force it. A man honoured with hollow words is not honoured at all." 

Jerome then held out his hand in a warrior's handshake, to clasp the elf wrist to wrist.


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## Otep

Adalstienn smiled. It was not much of a show of amusement but more so showing her teeth as a wolf would. None of them understood the direct attack of the mind her actions took. Fear was a great weapon. Clouding the judgement of the prey while slowly breaking their calm natures into paranoid socialpaths. Beautiful.

A man asked her where she was from. His face was meaningless as of yet but it seemed a good time to answer him.

“My home was once the Golvish mountains. Covered in knee deep snow year round. The forest of evergreens whispered and screached with the howling winds. I hope to see my mountain soon. The whispering winds was my morbid lulliby."

It didn't actually whisper in reality now that she recalled it. Ten years of exile slowly twisted her mind into hearing the whispers. Driven mad from the solitary confinement she found ways to entertain herself. Reading books when she got them. 

Most of them at first were some new author who witnessed different types of war fare. Attacking the mind and spirit slowly. Breaking the enemy down before quickly slaughtering them.

“Sister, why did you kill all of those people?" 

Adalstienn knelt over and held Bergdis' head gently as she kissed it. If she understood the dark side of humanity she would not of asked such a question.

"To ensure my own survival and hone my new theories and skills. You can kill a man any day but to kill the fear of entering a monster's lair can not be eliminated."

Her attention went back to their host. In a fit of rage any man would have openings in their defences. He had none.

Walking softly on the stone floor, Adalstienn's boots made little to no sound. Her hand outstreached to place it on the dark elf's shoulder. It felt unnatural under her finder tips. It did not feel of steel nor did it move like it. No openings to slip a knife under or between the plates. 

"May I be of assistance?" Muttering softly in attempt to cover her true motives of scouting out his armor.


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## revan4559

Adalstienn: You get the same reply that Modeus gave to Uthait the High Elf when he asked if he can help your master with searching for what ever he is looking for(see Uthait's post) before he continue's to search through his desk which like most of the study is filled with books and documents. At the moment it appears that Modeus doesn't mind the fact you have a hand on his amour as he most likely assumes that you are admiring it but what does startle you is that the metal seems to ripple like the scales of the dragon which puts your mind on edge as you have no idea if it is some kind of illusion of the light or if infact the armour is magical. If the armour is magical then it would explain why there are no openings as the enchancements could of been made to ward against such things but after a few more moments you finally find what you are looking for. Where the chestplate meets with the waistplate there is a gap large enough for a sword or dagger to be slid into the gap but due to the angle at which the gap is only a sword would be able to enter, though due to swords being far longer than daggers you can see that a sword would enter the High Lord's side and go up to piece his kidneys and his lungs if the sword was pushed all the way to the guard. Having finally found what you are looking for do you decide to attempt to attack the High Lord or wait until anothe time?(IF you attack Modeus do so at the END of your post as i have some planned for if you do understand?)

Jerome: Extraxi looks at you for a moment before extending his arm and finishing the warriors hand shake which brings a small smile to your face and after letting go you look around the room to see that the other apprentices have divided into small groups or individuals to look around the study as the Dragon Lord continues searching for what ever he is looking for. This leaves you alone with Extraxi to try and find some form of common ground to build a friendship upon and start to think on what the two of you can talk about, of cource you could talk to each other about your families as you are both noble, there is also the subject of your dragons and how you met the Dragon Lord. After a few minutes of thinking you realize there are quite alot of things you can Extraxi can talk about and that if all goes well now that you two have put your differences behind you and been scolded by Modeus you could become good friends. It is up to you what you wish to talk about with Extracxi but you start to feel your feet become cold and as you try to warm them up by moving a couple of steps you find you can't move.

Uthiat: Modeus stops searching through the things on his desk and turns to look at you. "Unless you can see a large tome made of iron and as thick as Morrak's head then you won't be any help at all im afraid Uthait as i require that for your first history lesson which was going to be about our ancient ancestors the original elven race. But everything i need to teach you is within that book so without it we may have to change the lesson to something else." Modeus then turns around to look back at his desk to search through all his things again just as Adalstienn comes over and starts to talk to the High Lord. Looking around the study you get the feeling you should look up after Meldiriel jumps onto your shoulder and lets out a strange chirp as if she was come kind of bird and as you turn to look at her you see her head is looking at the very top of the bookshelves. Upon following her gaze with your own you can see that on the very top of the tallest bookcase is the book that Modeus described and also appears to be ready to fall off at any moment should the bookcase get knocked. Do you move the large ladder to your left to the bookcase and go retrieve the book for Modeus or do you inform him you have found what he is after?

Andaleth: You hear the several conversations that Lord Modeus has with several of the apprentices while he looks for what ever it is that he is searching and have a choice of what you wish to do at the moment though you hear that your master is looking for a metalic tome which you recall seeing him with several days ago when you were in this study talking with him. Thinking back to three days ago you remember that Modeus had the book in his hand and was conversing with you about the application of Fel Magic for the good of the world as he scaled a ladder to put the book ontop of one of the shelves before sliding down the ladder and sitting at his desk. As your mind returns to the present you turn your attention to where the ladder is and look to the top of it to see that the book is missing from where Modeus placed it but upon closer inspection you see that it is infact ontop of one of the other shelves and assume that someone had came into the study and moved the book. If you decide to remind your master about where the book is then that is up to you, or you can however go over to Extraxi and Jerome now that Uthait has moved over to Modeus and make sure that those two are being civil with each other.

Avariss: OOC: See Previous Upade.

Extraxi: Jerome clasps you on the wrist in a warriors handshake and accepts your apology before giving you a small smile and saying that if you wish you can call him 'Ser Jerome' but you do not have to. Perhaps you could do a small joke about him calling you 'Ser Extraxi' aswell but if Modeus thinks you two are going to start arguing again then you may end up with your heads being banged together again. After letting go of Jerome's arm you feel your feet start to get a cold sensation and look down to see that the presence of Glacies has made yours and Jerome's boots freeze over with ice and trap you where you are and even though you try to get her attention she seems to be pre-occupied in some form of conversation with Oberon judging by the strange movements and sounds they are making though you are unable to hear that the dragons are saying it appears that are getting on well enough, something which you and Jerome could learn to do. Should you explain to Jerome about Glacies being an ice dragon and that she has frozen you both to the spot or let him find out by himself when he tries to move?

Aseer: The High Lord doesn't even turn around to look at you when he answers as he is still busy looking for whatever object or book it is that he requires. "Some of them i aqquired from Dragon hoards as most dragons like to gather magical items just so they can boast to others of their species about their collection. Others i have bought from merchants or wizards and the rest were found across my many travels throughout all of the lands, and to answer your other question each one of them is magically enchanted but the full extend of their abilities is yet unknown to me though some of them I already know their full powers. For example the large axe Bjor wielded against the hydra and giant yesterday drains the blood of anyone it wounds or kills to fuel the strength of its user while this..." You turn around to see Modeus place a hand on his own sword before quickly removing it. "Is a incrediably ancient and special sword which power is something you will learn in time young one. Feel free to try out any of the weapons but make sure you put them back". With that the High Lord goes back to being silent allowing you to pretty much do what you want for now.

Morrak: After you and your dragon introduce yourselves the others of the group nod to you before resuming their previous conversations with each other allowing you to walk around the room and explore what is within Lord Modeus's study. While walking around with Valerian you walk over to where all the weapons are currently hanging on the wall and can see several dwarven made weapons all of which are from what you can tell without picking them up, perfect in everyway possible as if made by the best weaponsmith that the entire dwarf race has to offer. Should you step closer to look at one of the great-axes you can see that along the haft which appears to be made of some form of stone you can see ancient dwarven runes which of blood red written, which you are unable to translate(due to ancient dwarvish is different to common dwarvish). Wonder what exactly this weapon is you decide you wish to examine it more but perhaps should ask Lord Modeus about the axe and perhaps even get his permission if you can take it off the wall. Of course you could always allow the High Lord to continue with what he is doing and just take the weapon.


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Modeus stopped his searching long enough to speak. "Unless you can see a large tome made of iron and as thick as Morrak's head then you won't be any help at all im afraid Uthait as i require that for your first history lesson which was going to be about our ancient ancestors the original elven race. But everything i need to teach you is within that book so without it we may have to change the lesson to something else."
When the dark elf turned back to his search Uthiat began glancing around the study. Behind him he heard Modeus speaking to another.

_Shelves upon shelves of books,_ the mage thought,_ so much information_. _There must be so much information here_. If only he had time. From one book to another he looked. “My word what a collection.” A smile filled his face.

It was Meldiriel that broke Uthiat’s trance. She landed lightly on his shoulder breaking his concentration from the rows of books. “Oh my, I’m sorry,” he said returning to the present, “Did you find something you wish to look at?” The small wurmling chirped like some form of bird. The elf stood there for a moment puzzled at the sound.

The golden dragon on his shoulder glanced up then back to Uthiat’s face. The elf followed the gaze. Upon one of the largest bookcases sitting partly exposed was what he could only guess to be the book Modeus searched for. “Ah, I see you found it. Very good.” Uthiat turned back to see the Dragon Lord speaking to the woman. With a shrug he turned back and glanced at the cases. Against one nearby there was a ladder which appeared long enough to reach the book. Uthiat had done this before. 

With some exertion the elf hefted the ladder upright and slowly and carefully moved it from one shelf to the other making sure it would not fall and damage anything. Years of searching through libraries, or private collections had given him practice in situations like this. It was by far not the heaviest ladder he had handled, but it would not be the lightest either. With great care he lined the ladder up with the book. Uthiat had already noticed that it may only take a single strike to dislodge the tome, and if it fell the ladder’s placement would possible catch it, or give it a ramp to thud down. “Alright little one,” Uthiat said glancing to Meldiriel, “Be ready if it falls.” With that he gently braced against the ladder’s weight and began to lower it against the shelf. Hopefully he would be able to set it in place, and then retrieve the book.


----------



## Otep

Adalstienn smiled. There was no way anyone would have no openings. She found it and it taunted her. She removed her hand and slowly started to walk about the study. She considered the repercussions of her actions but they seemed trivial. All except death that is. 

She milled through her actions. A thin long blade should suffice for her strike. Looking about the armory she found a sword that caught her eye. A short sword by all means but it would pierce into Modeus’ lung. 

Her hand grabbed the hilt and she slowly rotated it in a circle. Her father did it when she was younger. He claimed you could feel the difference in a blade by twirling it about. She ran her thumb across the edge and it instantly was stained with her blood. She smiled; it was thin, sharp and long enough for the job without being too awkward to push it into the opening. 

It was an insult to wear armor around your guests in her culture. It showed you did not trust your present company while giving yourself an advantage incase a fight started. As a bonus, she wanted to prove even Modeus himself was able to be harmed within his own fortress. Using a weapon from his armory was almost poetic.

Her years of stalking prey sprung into action. Walking silently in Modeus’ blind spots Adalstienn crept closer to the opening in his armor. When it finally showed her strike was quick and true.

The blade slid in smooth as silk. Nearly three quarters of the blade disappeared into the opening before she attempted to twist the blade. It refused to move, the gap in the armor was far too thin to allow the sword to twist and cause a more grievous wound. She felt a warmth of accomplishment swell in her chest. When the others realized what just happened they would either fear her or accept her skill. Adalstienn hoped they would accept her skills or courage to strike their host. But it was far too late to second guess her actions. 

All she could do at this moment was wait for everyone’s reaction… including Lord Modeus himself.


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi hesitated a moment before returning the warriors handshake. He grinned at Jerome when the man asked to be called ser. “Maybe, but I would rather we didn’t so that Modeus can’t find reason to crash our heads together again,” he laughed. Extraxi realised that this was the first time he had properly spoken to someone since his self imposed exile. Sure he had spoken at the feast but he had been hostile even after several flagons of dwarven ale. Now he thought he had found a friend. While he, Aseer and Addalestein were similar in skills Jerome and him were almost polar opposites and so got on well. He looked down as he felt a familiar cold seep into his feet. He smiled to see the ice covering his and Jerome’s boots while Glacies lay curled on the floor nodding at Oberon. As he looked at her Glacies’ head turned up to return his gaze. _Not my fault_ she sent and that just made him grin more.

“I suggest we move our feet before my good companion sticks us to the floor,” he said casually and grinned at Jerome’s reaction. The human looked curiously at him before looking down and seeing the ice covering his boots. Extraxi thought he was going to yelp in surprise. As it was he merely looked startled before shaking his feet free of ice. Extraxi did likewise before he turned round. Then he froze. Time seemed to slow down as he watched Addalestein push a sword into a small weakness in Modeus’ armour. He felt his hand drop to his dagger and draw it and suddenly time returned to normal and he leapt forward to withdraw the blade from the Dragon Lord’s armour before he became even angrier than he currently was…


----------



## Rems

"Maybe, but i would rather we didn't so that Modeus can't find reason to crash our heads together again" said Extraxi to Jerome. _Of course_ thought Jerome, mentally sneering and rolling his eyes_ still best not to press the issue. _ Nodding to the elf, Jerome made to move away but found his feet would not move. In fact, he couldn't feel them at all. Trying to move with his feet locked in place almost sent him falling, his body expecting his feet to step forwards to match the rest of his body. The young man's eye's widened in surprise. Had Modeus frozen him and Extraxi in place to forcibly socialise them?

"I suggest we move our feet before my good companion sticks us to the floor" came Extraxi's voice. Quizzically Jerome looked down to find the source of his immobility. His boots were covered in ice exuded from a small dragon curled up at their feet. Glacies was her name he remembered. Frowning in consternation Jerome broke free from the ice, flecks of frost scattering about his feet and melting. 

"That's a nice trick" he said down to the dragon, shaking ice off his boots._ "Yes, very curious"_ sent Oberon. Leaving the wyrmlings to their silent conversation Jerome turned back to the main group of apprentices and Modeus. He turned in time to see the wildling woman, Adalstienn slide a blade into the Dragon Lord's side. "Mad-Woman!" he shouted, his hand flying to his sword as Extraxi leapt to disarm her.


----------



## Yru0

A frown found its way onto Aseer's face, the high lord's answer was far from satisfying, but then again, what had he been expecting? The elf hadn't answered in anything but riddles since he'd first met him, and that was if he even deemed the question worth answering in the first place. But the man didn't strike him as the kind to leave facts unknown, and especially if said unknowns were the powers of potentially devastating weapons. No, not potentially, they were dangerous, that was for sure; some deep rooted instinct, some sense warned Aseer of the abilities that the armaments possessed, and he had to admit, he was most definitely intrigued. 

The weapons seemed to compel Asser, yet he had no desire to use them at the moment, the last thing he wanted to do was accidently release some foul magic in the old rider's study; after his last few disciplinary actions, Aseer doubted he would take it very well. Turning away from the arms, the ranger slipped into his meditative stance, trained into him since birth, whenever one was on watch for hours at a time at camp, or hidden in the brush watching prey for nights on end, you learnt a technique which slowed one's breathing, akin to the meditation that the warlocks used to hone their skills in the arts. Aseer relaxed as his eyes darted across the room, from apprentice to apprentice, object to object. The act strangely made him content, it was to him like a child's quilt; letting out a sigh, Aseer remembered all those good times around a fire, nothing but his bow at his side and the howls of the wilderness, those days were truely gone and burried now. Aseer perked up as he glanced over Morrak; the dwarf seemed to trust him and Aseer found that of all the people gathered around, he was the only one who he would allow to wield a knife behind his back. His friend seemed to be just as interested in the weapons as he, but the dwarf appeared to be squinting at the strange inscribings on the apparently dwarven axes. _Ha! I doubt Morrak would allow himself to stand behind me in a battle! He would fight a hundred giants on his own rather than cower in a fight!_ Aseer shook his head, the dwarf was as stubborn as an oak but he felt sorry for any giant who stood before him. 

Aseer continued to look at the group, and caught Andaleth doing the same, the man had Aseer's respect for the things he had done in the past, but he was still as much a stranger as the rest, and legends were not always to be believed, the high lord was evidence of that. The man had a frown that seemed like it was etched in stone, obviously his own conclusions about the group were rather similar to Aseer's, although he might not necessarily be as optimistic about their generally pessimistic situation. Aseer rose a hand in greeting to the man as their eyes crossed, and nodded in respect. He had just made up his mind to try and build a bridge with the man when the sharp shriek of a blade sliding past armour shuddered through the room. All eyes, whether they be drake or mortal, turned to the Lord...and his assailant.

"Mad-Woman!" screamed Jerome, finally Aseer could agree with the man, before instinct took over and he twisted around to lay hand on whatever weapon was closest. Not a second had passed before Aseer leveled one of Modeus' bows at the North-woman, notched and pulled back, the tip of the arrow centered on her neck. However, Aseer found his shot blocked by the body of Extraxi, _Cursed elf! She cannot be saved!_ Aseer lowered the bow to avoid hitting his ally, "Move you blundering fool!" yelled the Ranger before bringing the weapon to his shoulder once more, ready to fire whether the elf heeded his warning or not.


----------



## Midge913

Andaleth heard the conversations of all the apprentices around him and detected no hint that further violence would erupt amongst them. He heard Utiat speaking with Lord Modeus and discerned that his master was searching for a large, iron bound book and Andaleth though back to a conversaiond that he had been having with Modeus in this room, not three days ago. He and Modeus had been discussing the various applications of the skills in the Fel arts that Andaleth already knew, and how he would use those basic skills to branch out into more complex workings. Thinking again about the Fel arts and the inevitable consequence of their use and his exposure to them, Andaleth feel once again into an introspective depression. 

_"Why do you mourn your power so, Andaleth?"_ he heard Sirrush ask, quietly in the depths of his mind. _"Isn't it no more than a tool to be used?"_

"Yes and no little one," Andaleth answered quietly. "This tool is a bit like keeping a wolf as a pet. Useful, powerful, but dangerous. I fear what the use of this power will do to me.... and to you. I saw two warlocks in the feasting hall, hours before your hatching, and they were twisted warped versions of men. I do not wish to end up like them. Mad and power hungry, corrupt in mind and flesh."

_"We are each what we chose to be friend,"_ Sirrush replied, nuzzling the side of Andaleth's head in an obvious gesture of affection. _"I have looked into your mind Andaleth. You are a good man, and will only turn to darkness should you choose to. Do not fear the tools and powers at your disposal. You have the advantage of knowing the dangers going in, thereby you can make the decisions that best help you avoid them."_

Once again Sirrush showed wisdom beyond his years. Perhaps the little drake was right, more thought must be put to the matter.....

Andaleth's musings were shoved to aside as a sudden commotion and surge of noise filled the room, Andaleth saw that both Extraxi and Jerome were rushing toward Adalstienn, and Aseer had snatched one of the bows from Lord Modeus' wall and had drawn it to its full pull, trying to get a shot on the northwoman. Sirrush hissed in his ear, nostrils flaring.

_"She has stabbed him Andaleth! She has stabbed Lord Modeus!"_ Sirrush's cry loud in his ears. Not thinking, not analyzing, Andaleth felt a sudden surge of fury and wrath. The audacity of this woman, the gaul, treacherous bitch..... Sirrush tensed on his shoulder and Andaleth felt the blood in his viens run cold. His eys glowed a dull orange color and around him the temperature dropped quickly causing his breath to mist in front of him. Darkness coalesced around him, and from that darkness a wild howl emitted as a creature the heighth of a large man but broader, made entirely of smoke and shadow, rushed out of the void, knocked Extraxi aside, and crashed into Adalstienn with crushing force. Looking up, eyes still arching sickly orange light, he watched as the void creature pinned the northwoman to the wall that was behind her. The northwoman struggled in the void creatures grip, but its unnatural strength and suprise attack gave it the advantage and it held her firm, its glowing eyes, the same color as Andaleth's, boring into her. its phantom lips peeled back in a silent snarl. 

Andaleth could feel the power rolling through him, he knew that he could end the treacherous woman now should he choose. It would be easy. Then he caught himself, revulsion threatening to force him break the grip on the power that held the Void creature in this plane. He remembered Sirrush's words, the little drake perched on his shoulder, snarling and hissing at the woman who had attacked Modeus, and he made a choice. The glow in his eyes diminished, replaced by soft slate grey.

"I wield this power, it does not wield me," he said aloud, his voice carrying around the room. His mind was his own, his choices were his own. Retaining the flow of power that controlled the creature of darkness, he willed it to hold Adalstienn where she was, and waited to see what Lord Modeus would do.


----------



## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

Morrak was much more interested in the weapons than the arguments, so he brought Valerian over to look at them. He was drawn to a collection of obviously Dwarven made axes, perfect in every detail. One in particular, that had runes on it as red as blood, and they truly looked to be made of it. He stared at the weapon for so long, trying to understand the runes, that Valerian grew impatient with him, an extraordinarily event in itself. "What is so interesting about an old battle axe?" came the psychic cry in Morrak's mind, startling him. "What? What happened? Who's attacking?" "No one you idiot. I was just asking you a question!" "Oh... could you pleas repeat it?" And so the two bickered on, in the end Valerian apologizing for startling Morrak, and Morrak in return apologizing for being so enraptured with a mere weapon.

Suddenly, there came a cry, breaking their talk just as Morrak tried to explain the origin of the runes. Morrak turned, and saw the She-Wolves knife in Lord Modeus' stomach! He saw the others had almost all reacted with weapons drawn, including Aseer with a bow from the shelf, so Morrak too grabbed a weapon, the very axe he had stared at for so long, and ran to Asser's side, ready to fight if need be. Where his friend was, so would Morrak be until one of them fell in battle. Now he would just have to see what happened in this one...


----------



## komanko

OOC: Sorry about that midge, but this is approved.
Revan, I think it came out OK, didn't do anything you did not allow  left it pretty much open ended as well.

While waiting for the she – wolf to reply he saw how his bloody spit was quickly mopped up by magical servants. An uncontrolled mop appeared and simply mopped the blood from the floor quickly, this made a question pop into Avariss’s mind. It was not possible that Modeus could control all the magic that was going through this fortress at the same time, or could he? If he couldn’t, how was it really controlled then? Did he have other senior apprentices that helped him maintain the powerful magics all around the keep or was the fortress itself magical by nature? So many question, and basically no answers… Avariss rubbed his head with his long thin fingers. He should stop thinking from time to time, empty his mind and rest… It seemed to be impossible for him.

She said it was a pleasure to meet him… “*She said it’s a pleasure to meet you.*” whispered Gresh’Thoth. The dragon’s quiet hissing treating him away from his random thoughts. “*Yes… Yes… Likewise*.” He mumbled silently still lost in his own thoughts.

His thoughts quickly returned to the magical mop who seemed to have disappeared and was nowhere to be seen. Peculiar it was. Maybe the fact that they were enchanted to perform basic tasks took less energy from the source that powered it all. Yet if he assumed that this was a case he assumed that there was a source as well and in that he could not be sure. It was obvious that if Modeus would’ve controlled all of the magics in the castle it would’ve been seen on him as the toil would’ve been too great for any mortal.

Again he was torn away from his thoughts when he heard a crashing sound, the sickening sound of bones grinding against each other. He turned around just to see the pompous noble and the arrogant dark elf each holding their heads in what seemed to be pain. It was obvious that there was only one who would dare doing as such, near them stood Modeus all high and mighty… Avariss’s anger was barely contained and he felt the urge to simply tear the arrogant lord’s body to pieces.

“*It wouldn’t be smart*.” He heard the dragon whisper. It was true. Avariss was too weak and he would just have to be satisfied with the fact that the lord have found a new toy. At least a deserving one. He cared not for any of them, although he was alone for nearly a century he felt no need to get close to any of the other apprentices, none of them have shown affection whilst others showed anger, rage and disgust. He had only slight respect for the she wolf who seemed capable and one who possessed common sense.

He decided to pay no attention to the idiocy of the lord. It served only to anger him and nothing more and whilst anger could be harnessed as a great weapon it also served as the weapons of daemons. Voice’s in particular. In moments of silence he could still feel the creature’s presence deep inside his mind, clawing, biting, rending, tearing. Trying to break down the barrier which was Avariss’s own body. Trying to manifest itself into the world.

While some warlocks suffered from corruption Avariss suffered from much more, and he was aware of it. Though he was unsure earlier of what Voice’s origin was he now was sure that it was daemonic at least. The creature was made out of pure hatred, anger and rage. It felt no remorse and showed no mercy. Its sole purpose was to destroy, its only enjoyment destruction of any kind, be it of oneself or of another. Unlike those simple warlocks Avariss was cursed, cursed with much more than the simple corruption of body.

Whilst pondering about that he came to realize that something was calming him down, he began to accept his fate, his destiny of becoming corrupt in body. His only hope, the only thing he could cling too was staying pure in mind and soul, yet the eternal presence of Voice gnawed at the core of his body, spreading death and rot to each system of his body. Successfully yet slowly corrupting him from the inside out.

Such grim thoughts were rarely part of Avariss before him being sent to outcast, was the creature that now inhabited his body bound to him as a curse by his brother, was it a child of hatred and fel magic. He would probably get no answers for that, never. Still, in a way Voice bolstered his will, he made him stronger, and where once he was feeble and scared he was now cold and detached. It was possible that in order to corrupt Avariss Voice convinced him that the corruption of his body was nothing to be afraid of, and as much as Avariss was repulsed by this idea he could not help but agree in a way. Body doesn’t necessarily reflect a soul.

Once again he was torn from his musings when he felt something nibbling at his ear. It was Gresh’Thoth, apparently it did not want to be ignored. The moment Avariss turned his attention to it the dragon stopped the nibbling. Looking around Avariss saw Modeus and some of the other apprentices looking for something, what it was was unknown to him. He saw how the she wolf crept from behind, asking to help while walking like a hunter stalking its prey. Suspicious, funny that the lord did not notice it. He wondered what this behavior will result in.

He waited some more, having nothing of interest to do but observe the others as they talked with each other or helped each other. He noticed how the mage was trying to lower some book down, it seemed that they’ve found what they were looking for… Modeus would be…

Before Avariss could finish the though the most unexpected happened. He heard a blade rasping as it made its way out of the scabbard. The hiss resounding around the room like an avalanche. Magnificently poetic. A moment later he heard flesh being pierced, blood lust filled him, one that was not entirely natural. 

It took only a moment for hell to break loose and be set on them. He could hear the sound of other weapons being unsheathed, a cacophony filled the hall as one screamed and another yelled while a someone else held his breath in astonishment. His ears picked up the action faster than his eyes, finally he refocused and saw the she wolf, her form magnificent, brave, heroic. A sword of her hand pierced through the obsidian armor of the Lord. He nearly laughed in surprise if this wouldn’t have been so wonderfully ironic and serious.

She did what he dared not, she deserved his entire respect and as such he would stand by her side. Some might deem this to be insane but at least he had his own set of codes and laws something that not many had. As the weapons were being drawn he could feel the tingle of magic as well, he could feel it being powered up quickly. Yet at the same manner it changed from something pure into the corrupt smelling fel magic.

There was only another here who could harness that magic and that made Avariss stop himself. He looked at the human warlock. He could see his eyes glowing in an eerie orange color. He never saw such a thing with warlocks, was it a different kind of spell, one that he has not seen before? 

Before he could figure out what was happening he saw how darkness nearly engulfed the warlock’s figure, through it only a vague silhouette could be seen. 

Unimaginable pain filled Avariss’s mind as he watched the warlock completing his spell. He heard him yelling something yet Avariss could hear nothing. He could feel Voice gnawing at the barrier of his mind like never before. The tremendous attack forced Avariss to his knees. He screamed in pain as he felt himself being torn apart like he was in the middle of a devastating tornado. 

He could not hear his own breaths, he could hear nothing. His eyes glowed in the dark green color that was so recognized with fel magic. His ears were filled with a defaning screeching sound. He could hear the rage filled Voice, he could hear his true voice. Corrupt, angry, it whipped at him like a serpent. Its voice dripped with poison. He could hear him… He could hear him… “*Release me! Let me out of this cage*!” With every ounce of strength in his body he turned to look at the human warlock. In front of him was summoned the manifestation of evil. A daemon from the Void. Pure blackness, as transparent as shadow. It was nearly impossible to comprehend. If there was one thing worse than the dead it was daemons and this warlock could not be forgiven. None should mingle with daemons, none who wanted salvation.

He could feel Voice’s presence getting stronger pounding at his brain like being kicked by a horse. It was the most extreme mental pain he ever felt and he could not portray this to anyone no matter what would’ve been offered in return. It was simply incomprehensible by a mortal mind. Yet through the confusion he could figure the problem. Voice wanted to rejoin his kin, he wanted to tear out of this prison and escape. The summoning of the void into this plain empowered Voice made him unnaturally strong, barely controllable. 

Avariss saw how the warlock sent his daemon at the she wolf, he wanted to stop her. To save his precious lord. He knew not what damage he was causing to Avariss himself and Avariss could not allow that to continue.

As if sensing Avariss’s intention Voice shrouded his own sight, he could see nothing yet he continued onward to where the human was, hoping that his ears would guide him as well as his nose. He hoped that the human won’t move or either he would fail and then probably fall apart and be torn inside out by Voice. As he made his way closer he took out his staff, still hearing Voice’s own voice pounding against his skull “*Release! Freedom! Lead me to the void! Out of this cage!*” Avariss snarled in anger and hatred, he screamed in pain as Voice tried everything to stop him “*Be silent!! Leave me!*” He yelled every ounce of will coming from his mind and with precise aiming he did the impossible.

He heard the crack of bone, he felt the sickening crunch going down his hand. The staff connected with the face of the young warlock, his nose broke with the sickening sound of bone dislocating. He heard a yell of pain coming from the warlock and yet at the same time he felt relief in his mind. The connection to the Void was lost, it was closed and the warlock was unable to maintain it because of Avariss’s timely interruption.

He heard snarls, screams, cries of rage, he felt the pounding yet it was already weakening. Voice lost once again, yet this time it was too close to winning. Yet the fight was less than over. His eyes not shrouded anymore, his ears not pounding with pain and whispers of promised death and torture, he was able to sense the alarmed dragon on his shoulder biting at his neck and clawing at his back trying to make him come to his senses.

As Avariss turned around he saw that the daemon was not banished, instead it turned on its summoner. He saw how it rushed towards the human warlock, every intent in its incorporeal form was on annihilating the arrogant warlock for bounding it into this world. As foolish as that warlock was it was Avariss’s own fault that the daemon roamed free and as such he had to destroy it and protect Andaleth.

As the daemon charged in with rage filled eyes Avariss gathered his strength slowly and waited, as the daemon came closer Avariss began mumbling chants of meditation, slowly his eyes once again changed their color to that sickly green, they glowed bright as Avariss prepared his counter attack. Instead of unleashing it at distance he waited, he gathered more energy. He wanted to annihilate that foul abomination of nature before it would be able to get to the confused nose broken warlock and himself.

There was no time left, the daemon was nearly upon them and that’s when Avariss unleashed his spell. A ball of green dark flame escaped his hands. It was cackling with energy. Dark green lightning bouncing across the compressed dark flame. With its charge directed at them the daemon was unable to escape impact yet so was for Avariss who stood in front of Andaleth protecting him from the creature of darkness.

The ball of fire impacted against the creature, an explosion engulfed both the daemon and Avariss. He could feel the air being sucked out of his own lungs, he could feel the flame flickering across his body, burning, consuming with great lust. He felt claws dragging across his face, he knew that they did not belong to a dragon, the daemon did manage to touch him. Yet before anything else could hapeen the ball imploded taking every last ounce of breath from Avariss’s lungs and sending him flying backwards through the air.


----------



## Midge913

As he watched the creature of the void, Andaleth felt as though he was outside of himself. His senses to the outside world were dulled, but his mind was a torrent of emotions and feelings. He held the creature at bay, but he could feel the beasts desire to kill Adalsteinn, to rend her flesh from her bones and consume her, body and spirit. Andaleth pushed harder, his awareness of the room around him slowly growing less and less, his vision tunneling and pulsating. He almost heard a wicked laugh from somewhere in the depths of his mind, and was vaguely aware of someone screaming. He saw the beasts clawed hands grip Adalstienn's wrists more tightly, blood trickling down her fingers where its talons barely pierced her flesh. For the first time in a long while Andaleth felt fear. The void creature slowly, ever so slowly turned its gaze in Andaleth's direction against his compulsion, and the growing comprehension that he had made a horrible mistake started to dawn on him. 

This beast was different than the simple shades and imps that he had summoned in the past. This being was called from a place that was colored by his blind rage and fury. This thing, this Daemon was a killer, birthed to cause pain and misery. Unwittingly, frigtened, and enraged, he had reached for a power he had never used against another person. He had never summoned a being from the void to harm another, and the realization caused the chill in his veins to turn to ice. He felt his vision blacken even more as the beast began to fight his control. It wanted free, it wanted to kill everyone in this room, including him. 

Closing his eyes, Andaleth reached for the connection that he had with this foul creature and time felt like it slowed for him. He saw the sickly pulse of green light that was the beast, he felt the rage and evil that he had called into this plane and the touch of that power made him want to vomit. He saw the beasts face lear up in the darkness of his mind and he knew beyond doubt that he had to banish this beast back to the void. Back to the damnation and darkness from whence it came. His limbs began to shake as he took a mental grip on the essence of the beast. He began to pull at it, claw at its will. But every move he made the sentient evil in his mind resisted and fought. 

Bearing down on the beast with all he could barely kept it from ripping Adalstienn's face off. He knew that he was fighting a losing battle. He knew that soon the thing would break from his control, he knew that he would fail to protect the others from the horror he had unleashed. Unconciously he felt Sirrush's tail wrap tighter around his shoulders and neck and in an instant there was a new presence in his mind. Sirrush....... Sirrush had lent his strength to Andaleth's own and a bright, shining white blaze lit the corners of his mind. He felt renewed, strengthened. A glimer of hope burned in his breast at his companion's intervention. 

This feeling died as stars exploded in his mind and with a cry of triumph the essence of the beast broke free. Pain such as Andaleth had never known rocked him to his core and dropped him to the ground completely unaware that his nose was shattered and bleeding freely. He barely recognized Avariss standing over him, barely sensed the building of Fel power around him, barely saw the beast, the daemon he had summoned lurching in his direction. 

_"MOVE ANDALETH!!!!!"_ Sirrush screamed in his mind, and again he felt the pulsing strength that his drake had given him. Rolling back away from Avariss, he felt the explosion of fire, and watched as Avariss, who had for some reason come to Andaleth's defense, flew back across the room as the shock wave from the ball of fire Avariss had conjured knocked him from his feet. 

He looked up, hoping against hope that the Daemon had been vanquished. That it had been destroyed by Avariss' magiks, but his heart sank as he watched the being of smoke and shadow, green fire rippling and hissing across its form, stand. Though hope was gone, Andaleth felt calm. He knew what he must do, and he knew that he would either succeed or die trying. He had summoned this incarnation of evil and it would hurt no one else but him. Other's would not pay for his mistakes. As if sensing what he was going to do, Sirrush nestled into his shoulder, wrapped his neck down and around Andaleth's own, his head resting above the warlock's heart. The drake began to purr, a silent rumble that stimulated Andaleth to his core. Gave him strength and heart. He was not alone.... and with that thought he once again reached for the foul magik that was his and hoped that he could catch the beast while it was still vulnerable from Avariss' attack. 

Again Andaleth's eyes pulsed with an eerie orange light and in his mind he envisioned the beast, the daemon from the void, trapped in a cage of that light. He infused the vision with Fel power, and hardened the picture with that majik. The beast screamed. A sound that shook Andaleth to his very soul. In his mind, the beast began to beat against the cage that Andaleth had forced it into. The bars rattling, the impact shuddering down through Andaleth's entire being. The daemon cursed at him in a language Andaleth did not understand but he knew that he fought for his soul and for the lives of his companions. 

In the room the beast took a step a few feet closer to Andaleth, malice and hatred flaring like hell's fires in its eyes. That step felt like and earthquake in Andaleth's mind, the cage faltered for a second, and in the room the beast took another step then stood still. To those in the room it looked as if both the beast and the warlock had been frozen in time. Screams of rage, frustration and pain etched on both faces.

Digging deeper into the well of magik than he ever had before, Andaleth felt a calm resolve. He knew that he was going to die, but he was going to banish the beast back to the void before he did. He used the emotions that were coursing through him, shame at his acts, sadness for the time that he would not spend with Sirrush, disgust for what he had become.... a conduit for evil. He would not die that way. He would die redeemed. 

The cage closed like a vise around the Daemon of the void. The orange magik of the bars searing its flesh as it pressed in against the creature. He heard it sceam and curse him in is alien language and Andaleth did not care. His face, set in exertion, his mind firm and resolved. He poured his heart and soul and every bit of magic he could muster into the vision of green fire enveloping the monster in its cage. Its screams grew louder, the pressure on his will increased ten fold but Andaleth held firm. The mental battle was over, the beast died in the green flames of Andaleth's resolve. 

Andaleth used the last of his strength to open his eyes. The sight filled him with salvation. The daemons head had errupted in a blast of green flame that seemed to consume it from the inside. Its body fell, disolving into smoke and shadow as it did, the daemonic entity no longer animating it. 

With his last thought he said to Sirrush, "I am sorry little one" and then he fell to blackness.


----------



## revan4559

Adalstienn: Before you have a chance to see Modeus's reaction you feel a sense of dread settle over you as you hear the other apprentices shouting and drawing their weapons but it isn't them that have caused it. Turning you see that Andaleth the human has summoned up a great power and created a vile creature made of shadow that pushes all others out of the way and quickly makes its way over to you before tearing you away from the High Lord and slamming you agains the wall with such strength that not even you or Bjor could hope to match. The creatures eerie dark green flaming eyes stare at you with a killing intent that seems to go far beyong that any mortal could ever hope to match but as you try to struggle you see that Andaleth is barely able to control the thing from breaking out of his magical grip and tear you apart, this could very well of been your end had it not been for Avariss who marches over to Andaleth and slams his staff into his nose. As soon as Andaleth drops to his knees the Daemon loses interest in you and throws you so you slam into Bjor the North-man as it then lubmers its way over to Avariss and Andaleth and as you push yourself up you are just intime to see Avariss go flying across the room half burnt and Andaleth use the last of his power to imprison and burn the daemon before he passes out. All of this happened because of you. What do you think about that and do you try to do anything to help the other apprentices?(remember that the daemon has dissolved so you can't attack it)

Jerome: As you and Extraxi surged forward to go to the Dragon Lords aid something grabs you and throws you backwards straight into Aseer and while you fly through the air you can see an immense creature made of shadow which gives off a feeling of dread and malice. As you crash into Aseer his shot goes wide and plants itself in one of the walls which luckily didn't hit any of the dragons or apprentices. As you push yourself off of Aseer and help him up you turn to see that the strange creature now has Adalstienn pinned against the wall but before you can move something happens to it and the creature throws the norse-woman into Bjor the North-man and turns its attention towards Andaleth and Avariss and charges towards them both. Before you are able to react Avariss imposes himself between the daemon and Andaleth and uses his own fel magic to create a fireball at point blank range and from the close range attack you see that the dark elf is thrown off his feet while setting himself on fire. It seems that both of them have been foolish when it came to using their dark arts and now you can see Andaleth imprisoning the creature in a magical cage before setting it on fire and just as the human passes out the daemon disolves back into shadow. Do you go to check on the warlocks? Or pehaps run to restain Adalstienn as best you can or try to help remove the sword from Modeus's side?

Uthiat: While climbing up the ladder towards the book that Modeus is after you look down to see that even though you are half way you are very height up indeed and realize that even falling could break your legs or possible kill you if you fell from the top. As you continue to climb the ladder you hear a shout from one of the other apprentices which makes you look down to see the North-Woman slide a blade into Modeus's armour almost all the way up to the hilt which makes your eyes widden in surprise but before you are able to do anything you sense the build up of magic but not a normal kind of magic...Fel Magic. You hang onto the ladder and turn to see Andaleth's eyes glow dark orange as he summons a creature from the void..a daemon which then goes and slams Adalstienn into the wall to get her away from the High Lord. However the dark elf Avariss then hits Andaleth in the nose with his staff which then releases the daemon to do what it wishes and starts to wreak havoc on the group below as Avariss then tries to stop it using yet more Fel Magic only to burn himself and send himself hurtling across the room. Finally Andaleth steps in against and uses all of his power to summon a cage around the daemon and set it on fire but he soon passes out from using too much magic but luckily as the cage breaks the daemon starts to dissolve which makes you sigh in relief. Do you continue to climb up the ladder towards the book or slide down to go and see how the Dragon Lord is?

Andaleth: You fall to the ground with a thud which does cause your pain sensors to send messages to your brain that you are still alive however you are unconciouss as the same feeling you had then you sparred with Modeus using only magic settles over you again, clearly you have used up most of your energy and now your body is trying to recover. As you lay on the ground passed out you feel a warm sensation in your mind as if someone or something was holding your soul in place within your mind and you feel as if it is coming from Sirrush, clearly dragons even when they are young hve formidable powers. While passed out you are obviously to what is going on around you and there you remain until you are woken up by a cold sensation as Glacies runs passed you and partially freezes the right side of your face which awakes you but leaves you feeling exhausted and ready to throw up from feeling so tired.

Avariss: You slam into the metalic doors that are the entrance to the study with as much force as Modeus had hit you but this was caused by your own spell and now your left arm and some of your face had been burnt by the fel flames that you had summoned. As the world spins from having hit your head you slowly force yourself to your feet intime to see Andaleth collapse from exhaustion as he had created a cage in which to trap the daemon and burn it using his magic and as Andaleth passes out the cage disappears and the daemon start to disolve. You then turn your attention back to yourself as you notice that your left arm has become red raw and it is likely to be scarred for the rest of your life unless there is some magical way to heal burns this severe and as you move your right hand up to touch your face you feel the same rawness on your left cheet and ear along with he faint hint of burning hair, it appears your actions may have cost you more than it was worth. At your feet now however is Gresh'Thoth staring up at you as if waiting for you to say something. What do you do? Do you say anything to the other apprentices or do you simply go to see if the north-woman is alright?

Extraxi: Before you are able to reach Adalstienn something shoves you out of the way which sends you flying over and slam into Kell who was stood a few feet away and was charging to help Modeus aswell. Looking up you see an immense creature made of shadow which gives off a feeling of dread and malice and looking to see what summoned it you can see Andaleth stood there with his eyes burning with orange fire, it is clear that he has summoned this foul creature to aid the Dragon Lord though it would of been better if it hadn't shoved you out of the way and into Kell. Pushing yourself up you see the dark elf Avariss move over to Andaleth and hit him on the nose with his staff which seems to break the warlocks concerntration and while the shadow creature had Adalstienn pinned against the wall it turns its evil dark green gaze to focus on the two warlocks and charges at them both with a roar. Before you are able to react Avariss imposes himself between the daemon and Andaleth and uses his own fel magic to create a fireball at point blank range and from the close range attack you see that the dark elf is thrown off his feet while setting himself on fire. It seems that both of them have been foolish when it came to using their dark arts and now you can see Andaleth imprisoning the creature in a magical cage before setting it on fire and just as the human passes out the daemon disolves back into shadow. Do you check to see if any of the other apprentices are alright or do you rush to check on the High Lord?

Aseer: Before you are able to fire off your shot an immense creature of shadow surges passed you and throws the other apprentices out of the way as it heads towards Adalstienn but unluckily for you the creature decides to thrown Jerome straight back into you giving you no chance to move out of the way. As Jerome slams into you forcing all of the air out of your lungs and spoiling your aim you let go of the bow string and fire the arrow which luckily goes wide and doesn't hit any of the apprentices or dragons currently within the room. After Jerome gets off of you he helps you to your feet and you both turn to see that the creature has Adalstienn pinned against the wall before you can move something happens to it and the creature throws the norse-woman into Bjor the North-man and turns its attention towards Andaleth and Avariss and charges towards them both. Before you are able to react Avariss imposes himself between the daemon and Andaleth and uses his own fel magic to create a fireball at point blank range and from the close range attack you see that the dark elf is thrown off his feet while setting himself on fire. It seems that both of them have been foolish when it came to using their dark arts and now you can see Andaleth imprisoning the creature in a magical cage before setting it on fire and just as the human passes out the daemon disolves back into shadow. Do you draw another arrow and aim it at Adalstienn or do you rush to the aid of your fellow apprentices that have been injured?

Morrak: While you are stood by Aseer you see Jerome get thrown through the air by some shadow creature that was summoned forth and while Aseer takes the major of the hit Jerome's legs slam into your face and knock you backwards and onto your backside with a grunt. Who or what ever summoned this strange creature that gives of an auta of evil and malice is clearly going to pay but as you push yourself up you can see that it was infact Andaleth who summoned the shadow creature to help the Lord Modeus and it now has Adalstienn pinned against the wall and as you march toward the creature and Adalstienn you see the dark elf Avariss hit Andaleth in the nose with his staff which seems to break his concerntration and release the beast to do what it wishes as it throws Adalstienn into Bjor then charges to the two warlocks. Before you are able to react Avariss imposes himself between the daemon and Andaleth and uses his own fel magic to create a fireball at point blank range and from the close range attack you see that the dark elf is thrown off his feet while setting himself on fire. It seems that both of them have been foolish when it came to using their dark arts and now you can see Andaleth imprisoning the creature in a magical cage before setting it on fire and just as the human passes out the daemon disolves back into shadow. Do you go to check on the High Lord or go to see if Avariss is alright as it looks like he got burnt quite abit? Or focus your attention on the She-Wolf?

Kell: and Bjor: While the two of you were standing there admiring all the books and weapons within the room you are brought out of your quiet frame of mind as the study erupts with the sound of shouting voices and drawn weapons as you turn to see that the she-wolf Adalstienn has stabbed a short-sword into the Dragon Lords side armour. Before either of you two are able to react however you see Andaleth summon some strange kind of shadow daemon which makes you both step back in shock at him summoning such a creature and as it charges off towards Modeus you yourself surged forward you help until the daemon throws the other apprentices out of the way. Kell: You are hit straight in the chest by a flying Extraxi as he was shoved out of the way by the daemon and land on the ground in a heap which takes you several moments to be able to push the elf off and stand up to Avariss move towards Andaleth to hit him with his staff. Bjor: You get slightly closer to the North-woman but as the daemon grabs her and slams her against the wall something happens to it as Andaleth is hit by Avariss and he seems to lose control of the creature as he then throws Adalstienn straight into you which knocks you off your feet and sends you through the air. (Both) Before you are able to react Avariss imposes himself between the daemon and Andaleth and uses his own fel magic to create a fireball at point blank range and from the close range attack you see that the dark elf is thrown off his feet while setting himself on fire. It seems that both of them have been foolish when it came to using their dark arts and now you can see Andaleth imprisoning the creature in a magical cage before setting it on fire and just as the human passes out the daemon disolves back into shadow. What do you do? Do you go to see if the Dragon Lord is alright? Do you check on your fellow apprentices or do you even try to restain Adalstienn?

Everyone: As it all seems to have calmed down you hear Modeus grunt as he rips the blade free of his armour and toss it across the room and looking over to it you can see that only the tip of it has blood on meaning the blade only just pierced Modeus's flesh. Turning to look at you all Modeus strides over towards Andaleth and looks down at him with a sigh as he looks around the room at you all. "Is everyone alright? If not then where are your injuries and ill send for the priests to come right away to heal you." But as Modeus listens to you the still desolving shadow daemon starts to reform before it once again stands at its full height behind Modeus as it opens its gaping maw and lets loose a bellowing roar. Horrifide in seeing that the Daemon wasn't killed by Andaleth you see Modeus whip around and place a hand upon the grip of his sword and draw it in one motion as he turns to face the daemon with his sword ready. All of your eyes are drawn to the sword itself as while you had seen it in its sheath and know what its hilt and guard are like you have never seen its blade. The blade itself like Modeus's armour is a deep obsidian colour with ever shifting dark red runes on the written up its length, the runes themselves change constantly into other languages that you do not know at the moment but your attention is then brought back to Modeus as he shouts at the daemon. "In the name of the Dark Slayer, You shall not harm any of them! Go back to the void, Daemon!" With that the blade which Modeus wields erupts into white flames as he plunges it into the chest of the charging daemon all the way up to the guard. Standing there as if time had stood still for them Modeus and the Daemon remain locked in place before the daemon lets out one final roar and implodes almost pulling Modeus off of his feet. As your hearing returns to normal after the noise of the implosing your mind is filled with the voices of every dragon in the room screaming in terror. "Wrym-Slayer!" "Destroyer of drakes!" "Dragonsbane!" something has terrifide the dragons within the room and as you look at them you can see all of them huddled together staring at Modeus, but not Modeus himself but they are infact staring at his sword and as you yourself look at it the runes on the sword change to common and read: "Dragonsbane". What do you think of this new information? Why are the dragons so terrifided of this sword called dragons bane as surely it is just a name? Do you ask the Dragon Lord what it means and where he got the sword from? What do you do?


----------



## Otep

Adalstienn stood for what felt like an eternity. The room started to feel charged with some sort of magic she as not accustomed to. She looked over only to see the human warlock finish his spell, darkness surrounding him before finally taking the shape of something that made her heart drop. 

The demon rushed towards her throwing the other apprentices to the side. It’s clawed hands grabbing her wrists causing them to bleed. The force of the impact dazed her and forced the very air out of her body. Her mouth opened to scream but nothing came out. 

It’s claws seemed to absorb the hope and light from her, replacing it with a decimating feeling of dread. This would be the end screamed her heart and mind. She would of bravely stood there weapons drawn for anything else, just not this beast. All she could do was scream; for the long moment she was pinned. Tears burning their way down her cheeks, as her vocal cords sent out a scream of terror like the children she slain.

Then there was a sickening sound of bones breaking. The demon seemed to lose interest in Adalstienn and threw her to the side like a rag doll. Her eyes finally refocused in mid flight; seeing Avariss standing staff in hand with the human warlock next to him. The human’s nose clearly broken from the blood starting to flow down to his chin. 

Avariss saved her. He alone did what she half heartedly pleaded to the gods to do. Then her body smashed into an unknown person. The rapid change in momentum caused her stomach to churn. 

After realizing what just transpired, Adalstienn sat up, the world spinning around her, her head throbbing and stomach churning. She vomited. 

Bergdis’ voice finally came through in all the chaos in her mind. Her eyes adjusting slowly to see the small dragon kneeling next to her “Adalstienn, are you ok? Your screams scared the life from me…” 

Adalstienn finally realized it was the first time the dragon called her by name. She didn’t have the heart to answer her little dragon. She feared if she opened her mouth she would start screaming again. Adalstienn bit her lip softly and reached out to Bergdis pulling the dragon into her chest. 

She held her befriended dragon as a little girl would to its favored doll. Held tightly to her chest while curled into a little ball on the floor. Bergdis seemed to replenish her emotions while removing the dread. 

The only thing she felt was her dragon’s body held against her chest. The only thought in her head fascinated her while simultaneously scaring her. “He saved me…”


----------



## komanko

OOC: Well, it certainly came out a long longer then what I originally wanted to write. Just to clarify I wanted to write about 300 words >.>


He could feel his own body hovering in the air, for a moment he looked at himself from out of his body or was it just his imagination? For a moment he saw the vile swamp green flames flicker across his skin, he could see them dancing, roasting, melting flesh. He knew that if he was not thrown away by the fireballs implosion his skin would’ve melted into nothing and he would’ve died. It was as simple as that. It appeared that he did not fulfill his role yet and he was thirsted back to life with an iron fist as he slammed against the metallic door in the entrance to the chamber.

Every bone in his body ached and screamed in pain, yet he was successful. The creature, the daemon of shadows that the human warlock unleashed on them was blasted back as well. It gave his master time to trap it and hold it at bay. At that moment Avariss stopped looking at Andaleth. 

He coughed badly, ashes and blood coming from his mouth. He did not know the cause of the blood and he hoped that it was not internal bleeding because if so, he would be dead soon without proper treatment. He blinked several times as his sight refocused, becoming clearer, more stable. He was able to watch the human crafting a magical prison around the daemon. Good. Avariss was surprised that the vile creature even managed to survive the point blank blast, it was probably resistant against fire though still, the resilience of that creature was amazing.

He looked down, the fire burned down pieces of his clothing revealing his pale skin in several areas. Yet the true price the left hand paid, there was no clothing on it as he torn out the sleeve earlier in order to stop the bleeding from his forehead. He could see raw, pink flesh. Complicated never ending burn marks swirled all across his hand. Such marks would never heal naturally yet they will remind him of his own stupidity and as such they shall remain. He touched the vulnerable skin it stung and hurt badly and he had nothing with him to ease the pain. 

He could feel the same pain on the left side of his face, he guessed that most of his face’s left side was burned. He could even smell the foul stench of burning hair, a shame, he would not like to trim his hair, he liked it… Again his thoughts were drifting away from the important subject, it was a curse as well as a blessing. Though it gave him the ability to look outside of the obvious it could interrupt him easily. At least he was not narrow minded like some of the others…

Avariss moved his fingers against the reddish pale skin of his face. It hurt as hell itself would but he continued, ignoring. He wanted to realize how much damage was caused. He then pressed his hand slightly strong against his flesh and nearly let out a slight scream of pain, that was a good sign… His neural system was not damage or he would have not felt the pain. Same could be said for his arm, that was good, the damage to the flesh will hear overtime and he would be like new, just slightly uglier.

Looking around he saw Gresh’Thoth sitting down by his side, it seemed to be waiting for him to say something. “Are you alright little drake? It was not my intention to hurt you in anyway…” He said and sighed as he realized that he was no longer alone, he couldn’t just think of himself now when he had the young dragon with him. “No,” The drake said, then after a moment it continued “I am not hurt, thank you. Avariss, what you have done now was very unlike you. You risked yourself for others.” Avariss gave out a slight laugh and then sighed. It was more obvious to him now than what it ever was how much he has changed. He was a good person in times past, now… Now it surprised others to see him being kind and caring. He could not lie to himself, Voice has changed him.

Thinking of Voice the horrible memory of pain returned. What was it really? Was the daemon inside him really empowered by the portal to the Void. Was it subtly manipulating him towards paths he wouldn’t normally choose just in order to be set free? This raised another question, when did Voice arrive? Frankly, he did not know. The daemon could have lurked within him since the day he was born, he could have been corrupted from birth and driven to forbidden magic because of another’s will… He hoped that one day he would be able to answer these questions but for now they were to remain a mystery to him.

Picking up his dragon he picked him up, directly placing him on his right shoulder. His left shoulder along with large pieces of his flesh on the left side had nasty burns on them. He had some on the right side as well, but none of them was serious. After placing the drake back on his original place Avariss pushed himself up. He heard his bones moan and felt them ache as he slowly rose up.

He tittered back and forth for a moment, trying to regain his balance. He paid a nasty price for being blasted away by such a large fireball, a high price indeed, bigger then what he thought earlier. Even worse due to the fact that Dark Elves are creatures of the cold and as such are more vulnerable when it comes to fire.

Avariss suddenly heard something hit the floor and quickly turned around, well, as quickly as his body allowed him. He turned to see Andaleth, the human warlock on the ground. Unconscious and the daemon’s prison slowly vaporizing along with the daemon. Was it the end of the daemon? Or is he playing some malicious trick on them? They will soon find out. He walked towards the fallen warlock and put two fingers on his neck, the pulse was there. He was alive, extremely exhausted, but alive. The price the warlock paid was partially Avariss’s fault and as such he decided to help the warlock, at least this was the excuse he told himself. Only after thinking of that he realized how low he had fallen, he had to make excuses for himself for helping others… That was terrible… How corrupt he truly was was incomprehensible for him.

He began dragging the unconscious warlock towards a chair, it would be better if he would sit there while unconscious. It would prevent any other kind of harm to him. As he dragged him he clenched his teeth in pain as the sheer body mass of the human pressed against his burned and seared flesh. Finally he reached the chair and slowly picked the human up and put him on the chair, each moment the human was on him caused him severe pain yet he struggled onwards. Debts had to be paid.

After taking care of the human he sighed and looked around. No one was truly hurt except for one. The northwomen, she was shocked, traumatized physically and mentally. It was of no surprise to Avariss. Not many came out of their first meeting with a daemon of the void unscathed. He saw many simply going insane while others could never walk more than one hundred meters from their own home. Such was the fear that those creatures inspired, and rightfully so. Theses abominations of nature were evil incarnate, they existed simply to quench their thirst for rage, trickery and evil.

He looked at the human more closely, her skin was pale with fear. The fact that she managed to stay conscious was a surprise to Avariss, such close encounters with such vile filth were hard for all races without any exception. He began walking towards her, ignoring any looks of disgust or hate directed at him. Coming closer he saw that she was holding her dragon like it was a doll, holding it close nearly choking it, trying to find comfort at it.

He approached her slowly, softly, he saw her terrified form. He was sure that he saw the markings of a tear on her cheek but was it just his imagination? He saw that she vomited, she was more traumatized then what he originally thought.

Avariss knelt nearby, all his muscles and bones screamed at him in anger and his mind sent jolts of pain running through his entire body. It appeared that his body was not keen on being in such a position. His body would have to deal with it, he was the master of it.

With his right hand he touched the women’s cheek softly, so smooth, so cold, as if she spent nights at the colt of the mountains in winter. It seemed like the daemon drained any strength she had in her. Suddenly he felt something weird, looking at her, he felt something rekindle in him, something which was lost years ago after he was banished. He blushed slightly yet he paid it no attention, other things were needed to be attended to and his blush wouldn’t be seen under the burn marks.

With his left hand he opened the women’s hands and slowly took the dragon away from her. It should get her attention. He put the dragon down nearby, just out of her reach. Gresh’Thoth didn’t voice any objection when he took another dragon to his arms. Good. He wouldn’t be able to handle objections from the dragon at the moment and he was glad that the dragon either felt that or simply accepted other’s presence.

Avariss took off his robe and left himself in his leather vest and pants, he then quickly wrapped his robe around the women. It should keep her warm and let her body restore its strength slowly. He then pulled her up, she did not resist, she barely did anything at all except breath. He slowly led her away from that area. As far away as he could. Her long white her dangled behind her beautifully and for the first time Avariss could look at her fully, she resembled a short elf more than a human, her form slender and thin yet much hidden strength was in it even in this sorry state.

Moving the hair from her face he whispered slowly, “Everything is alright dear, this is just natural. Nothing to worry yourself about. Even the bravest fall against the daemons of the void, and those who don’t… They pay other prices.” He said so with clear pain in his voice yet he did not know if she heard him or not.

He brushed his fingers through her hair while looking at her. She did something to him, though he knew not what. As usual he was torn away from thoughts when he heard a grunt and the sound of something pulled out of one’s flesh. He turned around and saw Modeus slowly pulling out the sword from his armor and then quickly toss it across the room, it appeared that only the tip of the blade was marked with blood. Still, it was good to know that even the great Lord could bleed. 

The Lord then strode towards the fallen warlock and looked at him and then quickly after that asked if everyone were alright. What a retarded question to ask was that, obviously they were not alright yet before Avariss could reply to Modeus’s idiocy he felt the presence of something which was supposed to be dead.

From behind the lord the shadows began to materialize and he saw the great body of the daemon again, claws as black as midnight, searing eyes of red hatred and complete darkness. The thing just simply won’t die. Before Avariss could shout a warning, the thing opened an unbelievably large mouth and bellowed, its voice resembling the crumbling of a fortress’s walls and everything seemed to shake around them.

The Dragon Lord quickly turned around and whipped out his blade, dark black obsidian, dark red runes. That was everything that could be said about the sword. Yet as simple as it seemed something about it felt unrealistically menacing and at the same time awe inspiring. Modeus shouted back at the daemon as if trying to smite it just with words yet a moment later the blade erupted in blinding white flames and with a mighty push pierced through the surprised daemon’s chest.

With a roar of pain and hate the daemons imploded, dark matter spreading across the room and disappearing after a mere second. The implosion rocked the dragon lord, nearly tearing his feet from the ground. As the daemon died for a moment there was silence and then a new cry erupted. This time it was a screech, and it came from everywhere. He felt it directly under his ear and realized that Gresh and Thoth were screaming in horror as well as every other dragon in the room. Each dragon in the room screamed a different name yet it was clear, the sword which Modeus’s was holding was the bane of all dragon kind.

Feeling weight lifted from his shoulder he sighed in relief only to see all the dragons in the room including the heads of both Gresh and Thoth huddled together as they screamed in terror. They knew what the Lord was holding, knew it almost too well, as if to answer any question that might be raised the Runes on the blade suddenly reorganized and became readable. It was indeed dragonsbane. He could feel huge pulses of magic erupting from the blade, it was indeed a powerful artifact and the fear in each dragons voice in the room only strengthened his guess. The sword was somehow effecting any dragon kin. “This explains a lot…” Avariss mumbled to himself, as fascinated as he was, he stayed near the northwomen, his burned left hand upon her shoulder as if to try and calm her down, he couldn’t even guess if she knew what was going on, he did not even know if she came out of the shock from the daemon’s attack… Well, he would find out soon.


----------



## Otep

Adalstienn had no control over her body. Her body simply shook with each breath as she attempted to stop her sobbing; half failing to do so. Where the gods punishing her today? Not only did she fail to take down her mark, she was a coward and simply could not fight back. Neither of which had happened before today.

She once prided herself for killing every mark she took on. Her bravery and courage in battle was simply the way of her people. Never show the enemy fear and you retain your honor. When you have no honor you are simply a sorrowful excuse for a north man.

A hand brushed her cheek softly. Her body curled tighter together as she cringed in fear. The smell of charred flesh filled her nostrils, what happened to this man. He proceeded to take Bergdis from her grasp. She tried to fight but her arms refused to work. She could feel the tears running down her face again.

Something was placed around her body; a cloak or a robe maybe. She finally realized who it was. She recognized the burnt robe. Avariss had been wearing it earlier; he not only saved her but was attempting to help her…

The next thing she realized was that he was moving her. Her legs could do nothing but catch themselves as Avariss slowly lead them away from the spot she was once curled up.

His voice whispered something. She couldn’t hear it through the madness in her head but it felt soothing. She felt somewhat safe and lightly pressed against his body. She could feel her body shaking still, trying to hold back the sobbing. 

She couldn’t help but almost fall to the floor screaming when she saw and heard the demon again. Her legs stood firm and she almost instantly bit her lip hard; in attempt to keep herself from screaming again. Her hand seemed sluggish and slowly made its way towards the knife on her hip. 

Modeus turned to face the beast and yelled something. It was the first thing she could half understand and comprehend. The demon was slain shortly there after but the dragons seemed to not care about the beast but the sword itself.

She could hear Bergdis screaming something about “wrym-slayer” but her body still refused to respond to her. It simply went limp again. Her hand falling away from her knife, her gaze slowly drifting to the floor again. She started sobbing again, she felt weak and hopeless. All she could manage to squeeze out past her sobs was “why… did you save me…” she couldn’t understand why he would endanger himself for anyone let alone her.


----------



## Yru0

Aseer's world was spinning around him, his body struggling to respond to the most basic of commands, flashes of light popped into being behind closed eyes, and muted sounds fought to make themselves heard in his throbbing head. Coercing his muscles into action, Aseer found himself grasping an outstretched hand, his drowsy body suddenly discovering itself pulled upright and forced to perform the tedious act of balancing itself when the world kept moving. Then all at once an ear-piercing scream shattered his very being, and both years of training and pure animal instinctive fear forced his mind into gear, danger could be smelled in the air, dread could be heard cackling and something inhuman was roaring in unbridled fury. 

Andaleth lay motionless on a chair, his body limp and his face pale from exhaustion and stress, he was spent and not only his body was suffering because of it; and the rest of the Apprentices were either scattered across the room or sprawled upon the floor, what foul fate rendered them all so unprepared? But Aseer took all of this in in the smallest of glances, the very fibre of his being was instead petrified at the horrific being that had materialised to assail the Lord. The elements of the air seemed to shirk away from it in disgust, and the wail of spirits accompanied its every step, but its ungodly roar was all that rang in Aseer's head, the screeching of chains from the eternal furnace and the screams of pain from souls doomed to suffer. He found himself made useless at the foot of fear. But the Lord stood tall and unabated, he refused to give ground, and he refused to retreat, rather he responded in kind; in a single fluid movement the Lord had drawn his sword and the very heavens bent at his whim, his voice echoing across the mind, with each word hammering into the creature of dark, its power dwarfed and outmatched beneath the so-called mortal. Its fate was sealed long before Modeus plunged the matte black sword deep within its chest. 

With a final numbing howl, the daemon dissolved from existence, yet its horrid manifestations did not, Aseer could feel himself being driven mad by the ear-screeching screams and the brewing of power. Yet these were not from the bastard creature, or the banished soul, it was from the sword of dark and dragons' terror that the torture arose. "Dragonsbane!" "Wyrm-killer!" "Destroyer of Drakes!" the fear and rage that the dragons spat was a psychic barrage that threatened to incapactiate him, yet the sword itself appeared to emanate foul energies akin to the beast it had just slay. Aseer forced himself to calm amongst the chaos, he could feel control slipping away and his mind begging for release from the terror. He eased himself to count his fellow apprentices, to scan the room and to block out the pain, but to not ignore, he began to feel his breathing slow, but two words riveted him to the present "...save me". Twisting himself around Aseer had already nocked and drawn another arrow, the events flooding his mind with cold clarity that burned white hot. He could make out the torched form of Avariss, yet it was the source of all this suffering and pain that drew his anger, it was the slight figure that curled and hunched itself as if to shy away from its responsibility and guilt, it was the daemon that lived among them that lined up in his sights - and as the tension erupted from the bowstring and finely crafted death flew across the room, Aseer had no intention of missing again.


----------



## Midge913

Darkness.

Andaleth felt himself floating along in a sea of black, his body exhausted and overwhelmed with pain. 

The pain..... he must still be alive. The dead did not feel pain and it felt that his body was on fire with it. His nose throbbed , the dull swollen pain of broken bones. His muscles and his head wracked with agony. Again he lost concious thought as he drifted in the blackness.

Again the pain drilled into his mind, jerking him to sentient thought. His mind active though is body still unresponsive. He felt fear and despair. He was not alone in the darkness. The Daemon whispered in the corners of his mind.... it had survived. Andaleth was powerless against this being of shadow. Its otherworldly laughter echoing around the recesses of his being. He felt the beast tugging at his soul, hungry for the sweet energy of his life force. Crying out in the dark, fear and terror gripping his very being, Andaleth sobbed. No help would come. None of the others knew of the struggle that now took place in the furthest reaches of his mind. He fought with every once of will that he still possessed, but it was not enough. The creature of darkness would take him. The pain was unbearable, the creatures smug voice whispering to him to give in. To give into the powers of evil and damnation. To take up the mantel of power that the Daemon could give him. To give up his very soul and being to the side of darkness. 

_*"The pain will end mortal....."*_ the daemon whispered and Andaleth's will faltered. The pain was too much. He wished for death. For a release from the burnden of this choice. He could not hold out against the searing pain and torment that ravaged his mind, seeking to take his soul. 

A scream of pain rocked his mind, but the pressure lessened and the pain receeded. A blazing nimbus of light, steadily pulsing, filled his mind and soul. Before this protective barrier of pure light the Daemon, born of shadow and death, was forced to flee. 

_*"Get thee gone devil!"*_ Sirrush's voice roared in his mind, _*"This one is not for you! Your power holds no sway here. Get thee gone before I destroy you." *_ There was a confidence in the drakes voice that Andaleth could not help but admire. This dragon, barely hours old, had more force of will, and easy power than he had imagined. 

He felt the beast flee before the power of Sirrush's will. The torment of his body and soul fleeing with it. 

Andaleth could feel his strength waning, and he knew that he had used to much power. From everything that Modeus had told him he should be dead. The magic, though corrupt, was powered by his very life force, and judging by how Andaleth felt, there wasn't much left of that. Despair once again clutched his heart, threatening to pull him back down into darkness.

_*"Be still Andaleth," *_Sirrush whispered in his mind, _*"You are not going to die. You have strength in you that you do not even realize. But you need to wake up." *_A hint of humor intered Sirrush's tone, *" Before Glacies freezes your face."*

Startling cold rocked him, jerking him awake. Pain causing stars to float across his vision. The side of his face was frozen with cold and he just noticed Glacies running by him up the arm of the chair he was seated in, screaming something about a "Wyrm Slayer". He slowly sat up, ice on the side of his face cracking in sharp pops, and found that most of the Dragons were screaming. Their voices audible to all in the room, the sound sending ripples of pain through his broken body. Though Sirrush was quiet, staring. Following the direction of his Drakes gaze, Andaleth saw Modeus wielding a sword with an obsedian blade, runes of red power pulsing along its length, and the remains of the Daemon burning away into smoke and ash behind him.

"At least the Daemon is now dead," Andaleth thought, before a wave of naseua and pain coursed through him, pitching him onto his side, out of the chair back onto the floor where he vomitted. Laying in the middle of Modeus' study, trying not to vomit again as the room swirled around him, he wondered if the day could get any worse.


----------



## komanko

OOC: It seems that I was very busy today roleplay wise and as such I managed to get another post 

The room fell quiet after the daemon’s death. Modeus stayed silent like waiting for something else to happen. Who knows, maybe the daemon did not die, maybe it was another false play, maybe it was still lurking around in the corner? So many question that Avariss could not answer at the moment…

He heard sobbing coming from nearby, he looked behind him and saw that it was the she wolf again. The second confrontation with the abomination did not do her any good. Her dragon seemed worried as anyone else should, she was utterly stunned and shocked.

Avariss approached her again, he kneeled right next to her and listened, he wanted to calm her down but what she muttered between sobs caught him completely off guard. She asked a relatively simple question, she wanted to know… she wanted to know why did he save her… Did he? Did he save her? Or was it something else? This was unclear for Avariss, it was all too possible that his actions were completely selfish, though he couldn’t know, maybe his actions were driven from many variables and this was one of them… He sighed, again, so many questions…

He took his right hand and raised Adalstienn’s chin with it, he looked in her eyes, and saw the utter terror that was within. Maybe in the north magic itself was more rare, maybe it was looked at with more terror and suspiciousness then it was in the land of the dark elves. He frankly did not know but the contact with a daemonic creature really affected her.

With his left hand, he wiped the tears from beneath her eyes, each tear burning like acid against his raw exposed skin yet he endured, he felt that at the moment he was the only one who kept the woman’s resolve and will from collapsing utterly and that if he would show pain then she would lose all the trust she had in his abilities.

He sighed and whispered, “I don’t know…” That was the only thing he said, and for several moments a silence broke between them. After waiting a bit he added “You are different, though we met barely minutes ago you treated me better then what most of the people I met a day ago. Not only that but in a way, you are my weapon, you are a weapon that I can use against myself, the weapon that maybe would help me rid myself from my own daemons.” What he said was a little ironic but it held so much truth in it, but he doubted if the northwomen will understand. Not even the dark elves suffered from the condition he has, no one that he knew of suffered like him. Something which nearly shattered his own will into pieces countless of times.

Suddenly something caught his attention, he heard the air around him being pierced as something was pulled out. He stood up and turned around just to see one of the apprentices, Aseer was his name, aiming an arrow at the northwoman… He hoped for Aseer’s sake that he was not going to release it, he hoped so dearly. His teeth clenched in anger and he hissed between them in what was barely heard by himself “You will not release that arrow human.” Yet the human did not listen, he did not read his lips, he releasd the arrow.

He heard the howl of the wind as it was pierced by the iron head of the arrow, he saw it closing in toward the northwoman’s neck, it was bent on taking the life from her. This would not be allowed. He had no time to conjure anything, he simply wasn’t quick enough. That left him no choice. He side stepped and crouched in front of the woman. He grunted as he felt the iron headed arrow pierce his leather vest, he cursed in elvish as he did not feel the arrow come out. The pain was intensified by the fact that the arrow itself was touching burn marks.

Looking dawn he saw that the arrow buried itself just several centimeters above his heart. He was so close to death, the second time this day. It seemed that in a way something was protecting him, or someone… Grim thoughts about Voice immediately returned and he was sure that he could here cackling in his own head. He slowly stood up, the arrow still half buried in his chest. He grunted in pain as he pulled it out with a swift motion. Blood quickly began to flow from the wound soaking his entire vest. “Do it again human and I swear that I shall burn the city you was born in to ashes and murder your family in the most gruesome of ways and then feed their souls to the very daemons that Andaleth summoned earlier.” As if to reinforce his words his eyes lit in dark green fire and an evil green spread across his face. Was it still really him who was talking?


----------



## Otep

Adalstienn couldn’t believe her ears. Avariss simply saved her, no reasoning, he simply acted. She looked into his eyes and saw no malice or hidden agenda, just pure and simple honesty with a hint of sorrow.

She finally saw the extent of his wounds. Burns covering half his body, some parts down to exposed skin and others charred to a crisp. This man she met not even minutes ago put his life on the line to protect her. Even after knowing her past and being the cause of the chaos that followed her actions against Modeus. She wished she had his kindness and strength. 

He jumped up abruptly, as if preparing for something. She got a quick glance of Aseer aiming his bow at her. Her body was pumped full of adrenalin forcing life back into it. Then the all familiar sound of an arrow piercing flesh. Yet again, Avariss saved her, this time there was no doubt in her mind. 

Avariss’ body was quickly thrown in front of hers, the arrow lodged deep in his chest. If the arrow struck true it would have severed her aorta and neck muscles, bleeding out in a matter of minutes. The charred warlock swore aloud as he ripped the arrow from his chest.

Her mind screamed “NO!” as she watched him. The arrow’s head would have filled the wound and slowed the bleeding. His vest was quickly covered in blood and it drove Adalstienn into a frenzy. No one was going to take her savior from her. She had to attempt to save him and redeem herself for her actions.

Her legs simply sprung to life; her hands reaching for her knives. She just managed to slip into Aseer’s defense and skillfully placed her straight knife against his wind pipe. Her left hand was a personal touch; the hooked blade placed under and against his groin. She knew her attack would be futile her body still felt weak and sluggish. She hoped her strong front and previous actions would persuade the archer against an assault. If not, not even Avariss could save her. 

She fronted her wolf like smile. “My life is forfeit, but harm him again and I will guarantee you will never be able to call yourself a man.” She pressed the tip her curved blade into his groin to further emphasize the point. “I can not allow you to harm the only person to show me any sort of kindness let alone the man who saved my life twice.” Her words were back to their usual cold and ruthlessness.

Bergdis chimed in softly, still whimpering softly from Modeus sword. “Sister, why do you protect him? You hardly know this Avariss and you never show this sort of compassion except towards me…”

Adalstienn attempted to answer mentally, hoping her dragon would hear. She answered without thinking a rare instance with her. I think I’m falling for him…


----------



## Midge913

As Andaleth lay, face to the cool floor, he thought of what had just happened. The battle in his mind had been with the Daemon that he had summoned, of that he had no doubt. He also knew that from this point forward he would have to be even more careful than he had been in the past. That power, the call of Fel magic that brought forth the beast had come on instinct. Fueled by the power of his emotions it had almost overwhelmed him. 

Turning his head slightly to the side he saw that Avariss had knelt down in front of Adalstienn, and was attempting to comfort her. At first Andaleth felt a stab of rage spike through him at the Dark Elf's actions. That woman had been the cause of the entire incident. Had she not stabbed Modeus, none of this would have ever happened. No..... that was not true. He could have resorted to another method. He had chosen to summon the Daemon that still plagued the psyches of his companions, judging on their reactions. He had not need to resort to such measures. It was obvious that the trauma inflicted on Adalstienn by that horror did not match the offense she had committed. Obviously Modeus as still fine, the wound from the she-wolf's weapon no more than annoyance to him. 

His throbbing ears caught a raised voices and that pulled his foggy attention to Aseer and Avariss. Aseer, had once again drawn his bow and was readying to send its deadly shaft at Adalstienn. Andaleth wanted to cryout, he wanted to stop the man from taking that action. But he had no voice. He was weak as new born babe, and he didn't even have enough energy to interject. Time seemed to slow down for Andaleth as Aseer let the shaft fly, and with a grunt of protest he tried to haul himself to his feet. He needed to do something. There had been enough suffering. 

He watched in horror as Avariss stepped in front of the streaking shaft, the razor sharp tip imbedding itself several inches into his chest, mere centimeters away from his heart. Andaleth, using the chair to haul himself to his feet, stumbled his way over to Avariss just as he tugged the arrow free, causing blood to spill down his chest. Andaleth heard him say “Do it again human and I swear that I shall burn the city you was born in to ashes and murder your family in the most gruesome of ways and then feed their souls to the very daemons that Andaleth summoned earlier.” 

Dark green fire filled Avariss' eyes and that was when Andaleth felt it. A presence, a sentient evil behind Avariss' gaze. Had he not just battle with a creature of darkness, he would not have been so attuned, so defenseless against another beasts presence and he never would have felt it. But there, just on the outer reaches of Avariss' mind was a throbbing sickyl presence. 

As if he could feel Andaleth's intrusion into his mind, Avariss' head turned slowly, painfully in Andaleth's direction. Green flames behind his eyes seared Andaleth's soul with pain, and as their gazes met and locked together, the fire in Avariss' eyes was replaced by endless pits of darkness. Andaleth felt Sirrush's worry just before his mind was sucked into those pools of nothing, and the pain of it caused him to scream in terror, knees buckling, back arching, but kept standing by the connectiong with the thing that now controlled Avariss. 

Visions, flashes, memories, flew through Andaleth's mind as he was trapped in the creatures gaze. Avariss chained to a wall being whipped and beaten by his own kind, 

Avariss running across the border with the Dark Lands, creatures of nightmare chasing, hunting, and stalking him. 

The presence, The Voice, Avariss constant hated companion, slowly influencing, slowly trying to break free. 

Pain, hatred, angry, lonliness. 

Colors, thoughts, emotions, and underneath it all the slow pulsing life force of evil. An entity that wanted to escape his physical bonds.... an entity that felt Andaleth's presence. Too weak to fight, the terror that now controlled the Dark Elf Warlock laughed. A high, cold, laugh that sent tremors of pain and fear through Andaleth. He felt the being building its will and there was nothing Andaleth could do to stop it. A flash of green fire fueled by the creatures hatred and Avariss' magic flashed down the mental connection that trapped Andaleth in the creatures grip, seared his nerves, and shattered his concious thought. 

Blood began to seep from Andaleth's ears, nose, and at the corners of his eyes, his spine arched to the point of breaking. The last thing he heard before darkness took him once more was the laughter of the The Voice.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell stood admiring the vast collection of books and weapons when he heard the other apprentices cry out in shock and anger. Turning to look to them he saw that the She-Wolf had done the unthinkable and stabbed Modeus. Kell stood rooted to the spot for a moment and in that time Andaleth summoned a foul daemon into their reality. Kell glared and felt anger flow through him as once again one of his supposed companions used sorcery. 

Kell stepped forwards to aid the others “Son of a bit-“, he started to say before Extraxi flew into him having been hurled aside by the daemon. Kell tried to cushion the impact as best he could to limit the damage from the fall to the both of them, Typhon leaping off his shoulder to land on a bookshelf.

By the time Kell managed to get himself back to his feet Avariss had placed himself in the daemons path and let off a blast at point blank range, heavily damaging the daemon, but heavily burning himself at the same time. Andaleth then imprisoned the daemon and seemingly banished it.

Kell stood immobile for a moment unsure whether to aid Modeus or beat what life the warlocks had left in them for being so reckless and using the vile magic they had unleashed. Before he could do anything though, Modeus ripped the blade free with a grunt of effort, only a little blood coating the blade. He made his way over to the warlocks and asked if everyone was alright. Even as he did so however, the daemon began to reform behind him, its giant maw opening wide to devour him. Without missing a beat though, Modeus spun around and drew his obsidian blade, glowing with ever changing runes and symbols. With a cry the sword erupted in white flame and he buried it into the daemon, which after a final bellow imploded with such force Modeus himself was almost driven off his feet.

At that moment Kell fell to his knees as the sound of some screaming erupted in his head. He clasped his hands to his ears for all the good it would do him, trying to shut it out. He finally realised it was Typhon that was screaming. Looking back to the dragon he could see it staring at the blade, reared back on its haunches and with a look of what could only be terror in its eyes. He noticed the other dragons were crying out aswell, all of them fixated on the blade Modeus carried. As he looked at it again, the runes on the blades changed again, finally into a language he could read. ‘Dragonsbane’

Even as Kell thought about what it could mean beside the obvious, Aseer now stepped forwards and fired and arrow sure and true at Andalstein before anyone could stop him. What happened next shocked even him. Avariss threw himself infront of the arrows path, which then buried itself within his chest, dangerously close to his heart. The warlock stood immobile for a moment before gazing down at the arrow and then pulled it out of his chest, followed by a large flow of blood. Whatever pity Kell felt for the warlock vanished a moment later as his eyes lit up with an evil glow as he said to Aseer “Do it again human and I swear that I shall burn the city you was born in to ashes and murder your family in the most gruesome of ways and then feed their souls to the very daemons that Andaleth summoned earlier.”

Andalstein surged forwards in anger and placed her blades against the archers throat and groin, threatening him against further action. Before Aseer could reply, the cold muzzle of a pistol was pushed against the womans head, Kell having finally snapped out of his trance and taken action.

“Believe me, if you so much as attempt to harm him, your life will be over aswell. You may be fast and skilful She-Wolf, but believe me, not even you are faster than a shot from this weapon.”

He looked around at the High Lord and sardonically asked “Care to step in before we all kill each other?”


----------



## Rems

“Mad Woman”, the shout had barely left Jerome’s lips before chaos erupted. One minute he was surging towards Modeus, blade in hand, the next he was flung across the room to crash into the apprentice called Aseer, both falling in a tangle of limbs. Cursing, he clambered to his feet, grateful at not wearing his armour, with it on getting up would have been more difficult. 

As he rose, Jerome froze at the sight before him. There was a fel creature of shadow, composed of hate and malice. Faced with such a foe Jerome was powerless and stood dumbfounded. This was not something he was trained to deal with. Men and beasts, those he could kill, but dark creatures from the abyss? How could he and his sword affect such a terror? A paralysing fear and helplessness rose up inside the young knight, for the first time in his life Jerome did not know what to do, did not know if he would triumph. 

He was saved the answer through the actions of another. Avariss, the warlock, had interposed himself between the daemon and the rest of the apprentices. The elf conjured a ball of flame and threw it and the daemon, catching himself in the explosion. As his burning body fell back, Andaleth the other warlock summoned some sort of cage around the creature, seemingly dispelling it only for it to reform behind Modeus. It was then that Jerome saw an inkling of the Dragon Lords power. Moving almost too fast the see the Dragon Lord calmly drew his sword and smote the daemon. It was one of the most impressive things Jerome had yet seen. Then things took another turn for the worse. Each and every dragon in the room sent up a piercing wail at the sight of Modeus’ blade, the obviously magical weapon dripping with power. 

With a hand to his head Jerome attempted to reach out to Oberon, only to find the bronze wyrmling’s mind closed to him. Reaching for Oberon, the young dragon hissed at him, snapping his jaws at Jerome’s hands. Snatching his hands back, Jerome stepped back, giving his dragon space. He seemed bestial, devoid of the intelligence and camaraderie he had shown earlier. Jerome hoped this was merely a temporary shock to his system, a reaction to the recent trauma. 

Pushing the troubling issue to the side Jerome surveyed the room and it’s inhabitants. The north-woman, the instigator of all this trouble lay curled in a ball, insensible to the world. Avariss, badly burned limped over to her and seemed to calm her. Chaos then erupted once again. Avariss reeled, an arrow buried in his chest, an arrow intended for the wildling woman. In response she surged over to Aseer, holding a blade to the archer’s throat.

Jerome was stupefied again. The warlock had deliberately interposed himself in an act of selflessness. It was a noble act marred yet by the fact she was the cause of all this. Who was in the right Jerome asked himself? Who’s course was true? Adalstienn had brought down the wrath of a daemon upon them, harming their host in a violation of all rules of conduct. And now she stood ready, ready to die for another, a warlock no less. Yet this warlock had tried to save her, tried to save them all. But it was the fault of fel magic that the daemon manifested in the first place, and all knew that warlocks were debased, evil creatures, weren’t they? 

He could not make any quick decisions, not now with so much at stake. Accusations and recriminations could come later. For now order had to be restored, justice and punishment would come later. Seemingly echoing his thoughts, Kell, another southern human, placed his pistol at the woman’s temple. “Believe me, if you so much as attempt to harm him, your life will be over aswell. You may be fast and skilful She-Wolf, but believe me, not even you are faster than a shot from this weapon,” he warned the woman. 

“I would listen to him, if i were you” called Jerome to the woman. “He seems quite serious.” “Though you could save us some trouble and kill the bitch now” he called across to Kell, only half joking. Even as he spoke he moved to stand over the unconscious Andaleth. The human warlock was responsible for summoning the daemon and was guilty too. He would be ready to act if the man tried anything so recklessly stupid and dangerous again. He was resolved to see justice done and the guilty punished.


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi was batted aside by a wall of force that then slammed Addalestein into the wall. As it passed he felt an unexplainable sense of dread although he understood its cause when he rolled off Kell and looked up. A shadow creature had pinned the North woman to a wall and just looking at it left horror deep in the pit of Extraxi’s stomach. He pushed himself up and saw Avariss slam his staff into Andaleth’s nose as the human warlock stood there, struggling to control the creature. This broke his concentration and the creature immediately turned on the 2 warlocks. Before Extraxi could react Avariss leapt in front of the daemon and formed a fireball in his hands. The creature flew forward and was hit at point blank range by the fire bolt. Avariss was sent hurtling backwards and on fire. The creature was also slowed however with shadow leaking from its side almost like blood from an open wound.

Extraxi was so out of his depth it wasn’t funny. Andaleth sat up and with iron hard will created a cage of magic that trapped the daemon before it set on fire and shrieked in pain. It vanished in smoke just after Andaleth passed out and Extraxi paused. On the one hand Modeus was wounded but on the other half the apprentices in the room were badly injured whether physically or mentally. Extraxi chose the latter and rushed to Andaleth’s side as Avariss was already standing. He knelt beside the young man and examined him. Physically he was unhurt besides for his broken nose which would heal with time although just to be sure Extraxi straightened it and felt it slot back into place. It wasn’t pretty but at least the blood wasn’t flowing so freely any more.

A glow surrounded Andaleth’s dragon Sirrush and Extraxi flinched away. Even to his un-tuned senses there appeared to be a battle of wills being raged for Andaleth’s soul. Glacies entered the faint glow and it strengthened in power. Andaleth’s heart had barely been beating for the past 5 minutes but suddenly it roared back into life and the glow surrounding the dragons faded. Glacies ran past the young human’s face, almost freezing it to the floor. Modeus ripped the sword out of his flesh with a grunt and asked them if they needed help. Extraxi could not help but think sarcastically ‘what do you think?’

Behind Modeus the daemon rose and let loose a deafening roar. Once again, before Extraxi could react Modeus spun and yelled "In the name of the Dark Slayer, You shall not harm any of them! Go back to the void, Daemon!" With that the blade which Modeus wielded erupted into white flames as he plunged it into the chest of the charging daemon all the way up to the guard. Standing there as if time had stood still for them Modeus and the Daemon remained locked in place before the daemon let out one final roar and imploded almost pulling Modeus off of his feet.

Just as Extraxi recovered from the implosion his mind was brutally assaulted by a chorus of voices all screaming. Glacies’ voice was loudest for Extraxi and in his mind she screamed Wyrm-slayer. Extraxi stood to see all the dragons staring in horror at Modeus, although more particularly at the sword with which he had just banished the daemon of the void. As Extraxi watched the runes on the sword blade changed into the tongue common throughout all the lands. It read ‘Dragon’s Bane’.

Extraxi approached the Dragon Lord and asked the question no one had yet dared to. “What is that sword Lord Modeus?”

Before Modeus could answer Extraxi heard an arrow being fired and this time he was the first to react. He spun with all the speed and ferociousness gained from a lifetime of hunting some of the fastest creatures living. However he was too far away to reach it first. Aseer had just shot Avariss and Addalestein had lunged forward. Kell had thrown himself into the mess, levelling a pistol at Addalestein. Avariss was aiming a fire ball at Aseer and it was general chaos. The Dark Elf almost bellowed with frustration. Why was everyone turning on everyone? He felt anger at Addalestein but swiftly snuffed it out. She had merely been trying to prove something and that was no reason to kill her. Andaleth had reacted well although the shadow being had been too dangerous for him to control. Avariss ad sacrificed a great deal in an attempt to stop it and Extraxi felt guilty as he glanced at his fellow Dark Elf’s horrific scars. It was stupid. They were supposed to be apprentices that trained together but at this rate Modeus’ wouldn’t be able to leave them alone for a minute without a blade being held at someone’s throat.

Extraxi felt his hand rise to the level of his bow that was slung on his back but stopped himself. Wielding it would shatter the already fragile peace that existed for the time being. “Ser Jerome, step away from Andaleth. This was not his fault. He may have summoned the daemon but he almost lost his life in an attempt to stop it,” he used the title in the hope of breaking through the human’s pride and self assurance to convince him to leave Andaleth alive and he spoke to the rest of them. “We are apprentices to Lord Modeus. Some of us walked far and lost much to gain this chance. Do you really wish to cast it away? I know that if I was the High Lord I would banish you from this place forever and if he wishes it I will go. But killing each other solves nothing.” He hoped that they would realise what he meant and so stop this mindless violence. He waited for a response either from the apprentices or Modeus in silence…


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat climbed. He was somewhere around half way when he halted. So many books were arrayed before him. This wasn’t the largest bookshelf he had ever climbed, but it was close. With a smile he looked back up. He was in his element, a knowledge seeker amid so much information. The elf turned back to the climb. A fall from here could be quite painful, possible fatal; but some knowledge would be worth it.

As the mage continued to climb a small voice entered his mind. _Something’s happening_ Meldiriel said. “What is it little one,” the elf asked. There was a shout from below. Uthiat turned to look down in time to see the blade.

And all hell broke lose. Shouts, weapons being pulled free, foul magic gathering, a daemon, explosion of fel fire. By the time Uthiat reached the ground it all appeared to be over. Then the small voices entered his mind. Meldiriel latched onto him, and shivered with fear. Her tiny claws were undoubtedly drawing blood. The runes reformed into the word ‘Dragonsbane’. The tiny voice screamed sharply in his mind. “Be calm little one,” he said as the small creature tried to hide in his clothing._ It will kill me _was the only reply. “No,” the elf said, “if he comes for you I’ll stop him.” _It’s too powerful._ Uthiat reached into his own clothing, “Some times it’s not about being more powerful than your foe, but being able to think faster. I have enough power to bring the mountain overhead crashing into this room.”

Even as the daemon disappeared, and Meldiriel calmed things erupted again. The human archer fired. Avariss moved, and took the blow.

Amidst the sudden movements, the sudden hate, the insanity; Uthiat’s face changed. The normal half smile disappeared from his face and was replaced by a look neither pleasant nor truly threatening. Both of his fists clenched tight revealing white knuckles. Three figures stood at each other. Each prepared to kill another. The spectacle made Uthiat enraged, as did their apparent obliviousness to what else was happening. One daemon had been banished, but it appeared another had returned. 

_What are you doing_, The small dragon asked, _Look at him_.
“If it’s a devil it’s best to know,” Uthait whispered back with surprising calmness.

“Avariss,” the mage said calmly, “you need someone to look at that wound.”
Despite the urge to destroy both of the cursed and tainted creatures before him Uthiat hoped to hear the Warlock’s voice. Otherwise… he was already prepared. A small focused point in each gripped hand. The only hint of what he was carrying was an occasional trickle of flame visible only from behind him.


----------



## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

As Morrak ran forward beside Aseer, ready to defend his friend, a Demon sprang into the middle of the room and ran towards Adalestienn, attacking her. It was moving so fast that Morrak couldn’t keep track of it. “What is that thing?” asked Valerian. “It is an evil creature of the void, a Demon”. Someone, Morrak couldn’t tell who, was thrown into Aseer beside him. “Aseer! Are ya alright? Damn that idiot woman! She’s summoned creatures from the void!” “Be reasonable Morrak, how could she? She has no magic?” “I don’t know how and I don’t care. I know she did it, and she is going to pay for that”. “It attacked her! It couldn’t be her fault”. “Yeah, we-“

“MORRAK!!! Pay attention to me! She has no magic. She was attacked by it, and is clearly terrified of it. How could she possibly have done it?”

Morrak paused for a long while. “I… I don’t know”. He looked over to where the battle continued. People were lying on the floor everywhere. “But I do know that with this axe, not even the fell Demon can stand against me!” He ran towards the Demon, but before he got there the Lord Modeus pulled out a sword, and there was a painful screeching in his ear. “Murderer! Dragon slayer! Egg smasher!” He vaguely heard Valerian screeching by him, but was brought to his knee’s by the terrible sound and couldn’t think, let alone ask what all this was about. He fell to the ground, and stayed there trembling for a few seconds.

When he finally arose, the Demon was gone and the screaming had, for the most part subsided. He saw Avariss walking away with Adalestienn in his arms. Aseer drew back an arrow, straight and strong. Morrak was about to cry out to Aseer to stop, in light of his Dragon’s logic, but he was too late and the arrow flew, straight towards the She-wolf. Instead, though, the arrow hit Avariss. Morrak stared open mouthed at Avariss, then to Aseer, and then back to Avariss. He had no idea what to do next…

And then a new fight emerged, the she wolf running to his friend quickly, threatening him with knives. Outraged, Morrak looked around for the axe, and upon finding it he grabbed it, and ran towards Aseer before stopping, have laughing have deeply troubled at how many people got there before him, when he and Aseer had that bond. He was ashamed.

“What’s wrong Morrak?” asked Valerian. “They got there before me”. “So?” “I am supposed to watch his back ever as he watches mine”. “And? There was no harm done. He is unharmed as of yet, and the others all are helping him. And, if there is a fight, you can still help him”. Morrak didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. He saw a motion from the elf, Uth’iat but ignored it. He needed to think. Somehow he had such a bond with this dragon, his friend and companion, that Valerian knew what he was thinking without him having to communicate it, whether talking telepathically or for real. All he said was, “Thank you”.


----------



## Rems

Jerome loomed over the unconscious Andelath, his sword unsheathed. While it was not placed against the warlock's skin he was prepared to use it. He weighed in his mind the benefits of killing the warlock now against the demands of justice and the code of chivalry he had been brought up with. To kill a unarmed and unconscious man was an ignoble act. Yet his master at arms had never mentioned mad warlocks who summoned daemons. It seemed that Jerome was out of his depth. Give him a tourney field or a court and he could dominate, but here in a gathering of those who presumed to see him as their equal, surrounded by those who wielded magic he was at a loss. 

To make matters worse he still could establish no contact with Oberon. Jerome could feel his fingers trembling slightly and and his rate of breathing increasing. For the first time in his life he was becoming unnerved, hysterical. There were daemons, real daemons he could do nothing about, his entire linage had been dismissed and he couldn't even talk to his dragon. This was not the way things were supposed to be!

“Ser Jerome, step away from Andaleth. This was not his fault. He may have summoned the daemon but he almost lost his life in an attempt to stop it,” came the words of Extraxi, the elf using his title for the first time. 

"Your courtesy is appreciated" replied Jerome is a tight voice. "But you are wrong. A warlock is like a rabid dog and should be put down. But you are right, there should be a trial, this man should be found guilty by the due process of the law. I shall not step away unless the lord Modeus explicitly commands me to." As he spoke his voice rose higher, tighter. 

Breathing in deeply, he tried to calm himself, flexing his grip on his sword and mentally reciting his ancestors and their achievements.


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## revan4559

Everyone: As the situation between you all starts to become more tense and complicated with weapons drawn and tempers taking over there is a bellowing shout of authority that silences all of you and stops you in your tracks, it is Modeus. "ALL OF YOU WILL STOP THIS IDIOCY NOW!" Modeus then slams his fist into his desk and shatters it to make you all stop before he strides over to those who have their weapons drawn and pushes them away from each other. "I do not care what you have all done and why but you will NOT attack each other you are to become a brotherhood and close friends. Not trying to kill each other on the first day!" Modeus then walks over to Avariss and places his hand gently on his arrow wound and narrows his eyes. The door to the study bursts open as dwarven healers run in with bandages, healing palms and other healing equipment along with several paladins who are likely to use their magic to stabilize any serious wounds. 

Two paladins and three healers run over to Avariss and start to set to work on his arrow wound while the others spread out amoung you to check on your injuries and heal you, Modeus then finally sheaths his sword walks over to his desk. "Each of you are to go with these dwarves to have your injuries fully treated and then i wish to speak to each of you. First of all Avariss, Andaleth you will come to me together. Adalstienn, Aseer and Kell you will come to me after Andaleth and Avariss. Jerome, Extraxi, Morrak, Bjor and Uthait I have no real need to speak to you in private so you four may remain here and continue with your first lesson should you choose to. If you do then follow me." Modeus then walks away from you after letting out a heavy sigh which appears to mean he is disappointed in all of you before he walks for another set of doors and off down a hall way.

The healers and Paladins set to work working on each and everyone of your injuries while making sure that you feel as less pain as possible but for Avariss and Andaleth due to the healing powers of a Paladin are the polar opposite of a Warlocks power. As your wounds are treated you have time to reflect upon what has happened through the last several minutes and why such a thing had occured, it also allows you time to reflect on what you truely think about the other apprentices and their abilities along with if you can truely trust them.

Andaleth and Avariss: You two have both been told to meet after your injuries have been seen to which makes you wonder why he wishes to see you two first. Perhaps it is because of you two the most damage was done and therefor you will be punished the most? Or maybe its to do with the use of your Fel Magic.

Adalstienn, Aseer and Kell: You three have been told to go to Modeus after Andaleth and Avariss have already seen him and wonder why he isn't going to see the five of you at the same time. Perhaps it is because you three were the ones who could of killed each other and will punish you differently to the two Warlocks which makes you wonder they use their powers in the first place.

Uthiat, Extraxi, Jerome and Morrak: You four have been given the choice to continue your lessons with the High Lord by following him through the doors leading off into another room should you choose to once your injuries have been dealt with though Uthait has none. Or you can remain with the other five apprentices for now to make sure they don't try to kill each other again. There is the third option however of returning to your rooms and waiting for the High Lord to contact you for a lesson as an entire group.

Bjor: OOC: I know that you will try to post when you can so ill let you use the everyone post and other peoples posts to try and get one done.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

It had all happened so fast. One moment he was entering the giant library and the next the room had erupted into a whirlwind of hellish magic and armed combat, he himself drawing his weapon and bellowing in rage as the blood haze over took him like a hurricane. He had completely lost himself to it, what he had done nothing but blackness now in his memory as he stood between Modeus and Minerva, his dragon hissing and screaming dragon's-bane as the High Lord drew his sword to slay the demon in the center of the room. 

The demon wailed as it slain and finally sent back to the void, the room soon erupting in violence again as tempers frayed and minds tried to take in everything that had just happened. Yet it was all ended as the High Lord slammed his fist almost through his desk, the wood shattering into tiny splinters, two paladins and some dwarven healers rushing in to help those who had been wounded.

Bjor looked down at his hands and saw that they were covered in blood, he cocked his head as tried to understand where it had come from because his body was spotless, and none of the others in the room had wounds that would bleed like that. Suddenly he was filled with horror and looked behind him, thinking that he had killed his dragonling, but after he had turned there she was sitting right behind him. She was still staring at the High Lord intently and hissing every now and then as he picked her up and put her on his shoulders, her body tense.

Still puzzled he picked up his axe and strapped it across his back before following Modeus out of the library. 

You do not wish to see if the others are ok?

Minerva's voice echoed in his head. He decided to speak his words out loud, *"No. I am disgusted with how our group has acted, me included. We will finish our lesson and train longer today as punishment."* Minerva let out a long sigh before finally relaxing her muscles, him silently thanking her for lightening her grip, her claws had begun to dig into his skin.


----------



## Midge913

Pain again awoke him. 

Andaleth still lay in the middle of Modeus' study but this time he awoke to a new face. One filled with compasion and empathy. A human Paladin knelt next to him and around Andaleth's body pulsed a nimbus of pure ***********. He felt the pain in his body replaced by a new pain deep within him. He had begun to recognize that place as the well from which he drew his Fel powers. That part of him was screaming in pain at the contact with the Paladin's holy pure power. Gritting his teeth he bore the pain. It was the least that he deserved for what he had done.

Slowly but surely he felt his muscles relax, the pain receed, and his mind become his own once again. 

_"There you are lad,"_ the Paladin said to him,_"I was worried that you would not return to us."_ He pursed his lips thought fully turing Andaleth's head from side to side, inspecting his ears and nostrils. The motion was uncomfortable and stiff, but Andaleth felt relief that there was no pain. _"I think your mind and psyche will take longer to heal though,"_ the holy knight finished before moving away from Andaleth.

Taking in the scene he saw that Modeus and Bjor were no longer in the room and the remains of Modeus' handsome desk were scattered about. 

_*"Modeus stopped the group from killing each other while you were out,"*_ Sirrush's voice came to him,"He has asked that you and Avariss attend him immediately after your healing. He went through that door way over there." The drake shoved his head in the towards a side door leading off the study.

"_*Are you alright Andaleth?"*_ Sirrush asked, _*"What happened with Avariss? You stated screaming and then I couldn't feel your presence in my mind anymore."*_ 

Andaleth shuddered at the thought. At the memory of his encounter with the Daemon that plagued Avariss' body. He sat the rest of the way up, stood shakily, and began to walk towards the door Sirrush had indicated, giving Avariss a wide bearth. With a jerk of his head he indicated Sirrush should alight on his shoulder and the drake complied. 

As he walked down the hallway he told Sirrush of what had happened when he met Avariss' eyes. The drake was definitely concerned,_* "Should we not tell Modeus Andaleth? Obviously the man is dangerous and cannot be trusted to always be in control."*_

"Am I so different little one," Andaleth asked quietly, bitterness lacing his tone. "I almost killed several of the apprentices in the room with an impulse. I have less control over my powers than Avariss despite the evil that dwells within. I am not one in a position to cast judgement."

The little drake met his eyes for awhile, taking in what Andaleth had said. As he walked towards his meeting with Modeus, Andaleth couldn't help but fear what the outcome of that meeting would be.


----------



## Yru0

His shot had been clear, and his aim had been true, yet the impossible had occurred; Aseer stared blankly at the shaft of the arrow penetrating from the dark elf's torso, its speed and tip easily rendering his flimsy armor for naught, and the dark red blood flew freely down. Avaris stood defiantly as he wrenched the bloody point from his chest, a cold, electric fire burning in his eyes; Aseer watched as his comrade was transformed into something alien, something inhuman, something all consuming. He couldn't be sure if the other's recognised it, but he felt himself rooted to the floor, his every being the helpless deer in the hunter's sights, caught in the flight path of that lethal bolt. Each word was hammered into his head, he could feel dark energies pounding the very fabric around him, “Do it again human and I swear that I shall burn the city you was born in to ashes and murder your family in the most gruesome of ways and then feed their souls to the very daemons that Andaleth summoned earlier.” This was no mortal being issuing heated threats, this was an entity driven insane over countless eternities rendered insignificant, yet unimaginably powerful, a creature that would torch the world from whence it came simply for the terrible sin of bringing it to being. Aseer was defenseless, weak and motionless when the next screech pierced the room, "NO!"

Aseer's palm rested on the hilt of his blade, his fingers clutching the handle as cold metal pressed against his body, the anger of a she-wolf scorned baring down upon him. Yet he answered the look of boiling hatred with a cold, calculated stare, he had killed her kind before, dealt them merciful justice at the hand of arrow, sword and executioner's axe, this one would suffer the same fate, regardless of the harm to himself, for such foul beasts could not be allowed to walk the kingdoms of mortals. But a simple _click_ drastically flipped the dynamics, as the barrel of an eager weapon was placed against the witch's skull. " You may be fast and skilful She-Wolf, but believe me, not even you are faster than a shot from this weapon.” the northman's characteristic companionship was gone, replaced with the clans' rigid foundations of duty and honour, and harsh enforcement of the balance of power. "Though you could save us some trouble and kill the bitch now", a grin began to spread across Aseer's features, despite his predicament, he'd forgotten how futile it was to fight the dark alone, and now he began to realise that he was not in the struggle without support, and as he looked further beyond his current threats, sure enough there was Morrak, obviously upset that his friend had started a fight and forgotten to invite him. This was over.

*"ALL OF YOU WILL STOP THIS IDIOCY NOW!"*

A sudden crack of splintered wood and roused serpent shatter the stalemate across the room as the lord makes his anger known. The apprentices each glanced at each other, unwilling to extend the first hand of peace and lower their guard; it took the lord himself thrusting the group apart to break the deadlock. "I do not care what you have all done and why but you will NOT attack each other you are to become a brotherhood and close friends." Aseer almost laughed at the words being spat from the rider's mouth, brotherhood? Camaraderie? Had he himself not been sane enough to realize not only the devastation wrought upon his own doorstep, but also the daemons he had allowed into his home?! Grudginly however, Aseer lowered his stance, forced his body and mind to quash his instincts and sense of duty, he was not ready to give up all _this_ and Seraphim over the bastard witch. Such immoral filth made mistakes, caved in to their wicked desires of death and destruction, and Aseer would be there to clean up the mess that the lord has allowed to occur. A paladin approached the archer, Aseer hadn't even noticed the healers entering the room, but he submited himself to their care, pushing his mind away, occupying his thoughts. "My thanks to you." nodded Aseer to the man, making the holy sign of the church in respect to his office and practise, the paladins were few and far between, and their services were sought after the lands over, but far to many never gained access to their charitable aid. Aseer watched as his fellow apprentices entered the office following the lord, his own meeting would come, and perhaps he may have as much words for Modeus, as he did for Aseer.


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## JAMOB

(ooc) I am trying a new format for stuff some people complained about too much color, and the colors are kind of dark.

Morrak looked at his dragon, thankful that he was so wise, and that they had bonded so quickly. He then looked around, and saw “Sir” Jerome standing over the fallen body of Andaleth, and heard Extraxi try to stop him from killing the warlock. Then, over all the noise in the room he heard Lord Modeus shout "ALL OF YOU WILL STOP THIS IDIOCY NOW!”, and the room became quiet. Nobody moved for a couple of seconds, until Modeus finished. "I do not care what you have all done and why but you will NOT attack each other you are to become a brotherhood and close friends. Not trying to kill each other on the first day!" Morrak looked over at the others, and saw how startled they were. His own dragon, Valerian, was calm on the outside but Morrak could sense inner turmoil.

Modeus continued to explain everyone’s options, but he had Morrak and Aseer split up. Aseer was to see Modeus for behavior while Morrak was to continue lessons. This he would not put up with. He resolved to stay with Aseer until all the trouble was over. A healer came over to him to tend his wounds, but Morrak waved him away and went to check on Aseer. Another healer came and they tried to bring him away to a separate place, but Morrak pushed them aside and continued walking. *“Aseer, are you all right? Why does Modeus want to talk to you? Whatever it is ill stay with you”.*


----------



## Rems

Idiocy?, thought Jerome. No idiocy was leaving an attempted murderer and two rabid warlocks unpunished. Idiocy was allowing such a situation to occur in the first place. The day’s events had only reaffirmed Jerome’s belief in the segregation of classes. Some were born to lead, others to follow, when that natural order was disrupted, chaos ensued; as was aptly demonstrated today. It was high time someone who knew what they were doing, someone who was bred to lead took charge of this group. 

“Indeed, the strong prosper while the weak are prey” came Oberon’s voice. Jerome sighed in relief as their mental contact was resumed. After bonding with his dragon he had never felt so alone as without their connection; severed by the appearance of Modeus’ blade; which had sent all the dragons into turmoil. It was disquieting in fact how much he had come to depend on Oberon in such a short time. This could in time become a vulnerability, a weakness for all dragon riders. Take out one partner leaving the other bereft. 

“I agree young one, though there must still be rules to govern our conduct. Without order and structure we are beasts. Society depends on the status quo. If every jumped up peasant wanted to leave the land we would starve. If there were no nobles the people would be defenceless and direction less.”

“What a startling insight from a swordsman” Oberon remarked dryly. 

“Ha, I’m more than a simple swordsman, as you should well know. Don’t make me recite my lineage again, you know how long it took last time.” 

“Ah, no, i remember” sent back Oberon quickly, shuddering at the memory. It was a long and tedious recitation of all of Jerome's recorded ancestors, each previous Duke and his accomplishments. 

“Come then, our first lesson awaits”. Jerome held out an arm for Oberon to jump onto, the small dragon climbing it to sit at his shoulder. Jerome idly stroked the wyrmling's horned head, eliciting a deep rumbling sound from the small creature. Looking about the room a final time, and its sorry inhabitants, Jerome shook his head before following Modeus. As he walked he mused on how best to strengthen his position and move to the forefront of the group. Then there was still the matter of Adalstienn and the warlocks.


----------



## komanko

OOC: Sorry that it's a little rushed but I feel real tired for some reason >.>

For a moment everyone stood still, nothing was happening and then… Hell was unleashed. The northwoman rose to her fit, overcoming her fear and utter terror from the presence of the daemon. As swift as the wind itself she flew towards Aseer. The helpless archer was caught off guard, her knives easily slipped through his pitiful defenses, one aimed at the neck the other at the groin, yet she stopped. She simply stood there aiming the weapons in those critical points threatening the archer. At this point Aseer wouldn’t dare to move it would be extremely foolish if he would.

Avariss simply stood there he watched as the events unfold while not noticing the throbbing against his mind’s defenses. He stood there while the defenses fall and yet he did not notice that as well. It was if whatever was attacking the walls was digging beneath them instead of attacking the walls head on.

Suddenly Avariss was overwhelmed with an amount of ferocity that would shame a raging tornado. He was torn apart from within, thrown to a corner of his own mind. Only one thing could do that, it was Voice, but was he not defeated? Didn’t Avariss throw him back inside into a cage of will? Apparently he did not. He was helpless forced to pound his mind’s fists against a wall of daemonic will.

Then he felt another presence. It was not the presence of his mind, it was someone else. Was the portal to the Void large enough for Voice to summon more help from his daemonic realm? Did he infect Avariss with more daemonic presences? If it was so he knew that he would not be able to withstand it, he would end his own life.

Yet it was not. He could feel an untrained, unprotected mind. It reminded him of himself when he first touched the fel arts. So willing, so easily penetrated. Voice was so focused on thoughts of bringing death and destruction that he didn’t even notice that presence. Only when Avariss stopped smashing his will against Voice’s did the daemon feel the presence. So weak that it was covered by Avariss’s own will.

Avariss unwillingly turned his head, his muscles no longer his. He was like a marionette of a greater force. He was acting while somebody else was pulling the strings. He watched helplessly as his head turned towards the other warlock, their eyes met, each one staring into the other. Even before the lock up happened Avariss knew that Andaleth won’t be able to survive such an encounter with Voice, especially not in his weakened state.

A moment later he was blinded, he screamed yet no one could hear, he was trapped alone in the dark of his own mind. He saw each and every memory, he felt all the pains he ever felt surging through him again and again, yet this time he was not alone. Though blinded, his mind could outline the silhouette of another, the form of Andaleth sprang in front of him. He was like an open book while Andaleth was an eager scholar. It was a terrible thought. 

He could feel that Andaleth was undergoing extreme amounts of pain, Avariss’s power enhanced by Voice’s was simply tearing the young human apart. He felt the power rushing through the mental connection, he could sense the pain which the human was feeling. That pain was too familiar. A cold laughter feeled his mind, the kind of laughter which only some could here, not a physical one, a mental one.

“You brought friends Avariss.” Voice whispered venomously, each word so deadly poisonous that it could’ve killed a dragon. “I think I shall need to disperse of the unwelcomed guest.” Voice said and laughed, the laughter resounded across the plains of Avariss’s mind. Through clenched teeth and an iron will Avariss gruned a simple answer. “No!” Fueled by pain, by anger and by hate he enforced himself upon Andaleth. Sheltering him from the worst of the magic, like a soothing presence he stood there. A silent guardian. “NO!” He yelled at Voice through his own mind. A simple command which sent waves of rippling energy blasting at the daemonic being.

He crumpled in pain, the daemonic greenish glow leaving his eyes. He fell on his knees and spat waves of blood. He screeched in a pathetic cry of pain and coughed more blood. He looked and saw Andaleth sprawled on the ground, his body nearly destroyed by the brief encounter. Yet he was alive, he could feel his life energy, it was relatively stable though weak. They will need to chat later.

Before he could look at another direction he crumpled again as another wave of nausea and pain assaulted him. With its passing he looked at the other direction just to see a scene of utter confusion. Kell, the human bastard who thought himself better than any warlock stood and pointed his pistol at the she-wolf.

Others quickly stepped in, the human pompous noble which didn’t stop for a moment to think of what he says. Surprisingly Etraxi the other dark elf decided to try and encourage peace between them yet it did not seem to work to well. Then another intervened, another elf, he masked his fear while talking to Avariss. Offering to take a look at his wound. Avariss could barely speak, he felt the blood draining away from him so quickly that in minutes he would find himself dead yet he did not trust anyone here, apart from the she-wolf who offered her life for his and also Andaleth who now understood Avariss partially, if he would live past this day obviously.

Feeling Avariss hostility Gresh’Thoth walked on his four legs before Avariss, he separated him from the others and said to the elf, “Don’t get any closer, Avariss doesn’t wish your help.” As if to enforce his seriousness both heads snapped forward. It was obvious that at this age the creature would pose little threat to the likes of Uthiat yet its courage was inspiring, as well as its loyalty, even after seeing Avariss’s evil.

Before anyone else could move or act a strong voice silenced them all, demanding silence a fist crashed into a table shattering it in half while demanding to stop the foolishness which was going on. Avariss turned his head slowly to look at Modeus, it took him some time to decide to intervene. The bastard, he was probably a sick and sadistic person. Vile thoughts which were inspired by Voice’s recent departure back into the depths of the mind flowed through Avariss quickly directed at Modeus and his actions.

He then quickly moved and separated the tangled mess of warriors, each one sent to a different side of the room. The dragon lord then said so everyone could hear that they were supposed to be a brotherhood, they were supposed to be friend, not enemies.

Surprisingly after that the lord moved towards Avariss to check his wound. Gresh’Thoth still shocked by the unsheathing of dragonsbane quickly stepped away in fear. Modeus put his hand on Avariss’s wound and narrowed his eyes, he did not know what the lord was doing but Avariss did not trust him. “Don’t touch me you bastard!” He hissed in anger and pain but he was too weak to resist.

He turned his attention towards the door when he heard that it was slammed open. People rushed in. Paladins, the bane of all warlocks, a thing which he knew too well. Behind them rushed in dwarven healers with various instruments for preserving health. Suddenly he cares for his apprentices a deep venomous voice whispered in Avariss’s ear.

Modeus then quickly move away to let the paladins who rushed towards Avariss pass. Before they arrived he was unsure if they were going to smite him or help him, one could never know with those righteous bastards. He watched as Modeus walked away and said that they had to come to him after they were treated. Fine. It was not that Modeus’s thoughts really mattered to Avariss yet he was the lord of the fortress and as such he had to be respected a little bit.

Searing pain blinded his senses as the paladins began using their magic. He felt his own sources of power battling against the healing might, he could feel Voice trying to slow the process, revert it. It was hopeless both of them were completely tired and weak. He could do nothing but ignore the immense pain. He feared what would’ve happened to the paladins if Voice was at full power but luckily he wasn’t.

Several painful minutes later Avariss was already standing up, invigorated yet still severely scarred by the burns. Still, he was able to walk and act although he felt tired and still weak. He wanted to check on the she-wolf but didn’t want to risk Modeus’s wrath at this point, not when he was so weak. So he simply walked towards the door which Modeus left through. He picked up Gresh’Thoth from the ground and placed him again on his shoulder. It’s long tail quickly wrapped across Avariss and then they walked forward in silence.


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

It was not until the healers arrived that Uthiat moved. He had seen this warlock, Avariss, lose himself twice in as many days. The other had summoned a creature of the void, a daemon, into being and lost what little control he might have had. Between the two they had removed any trust the mage had placed with them. The northwoman, whom he had meet only minuets before, was already with them. 

One of the healers approached. He looked to the elf before him. Uthiat smiled as the healer spoke, “Are you injured?” “I am fine,” the elf said, “it seems I was fortunate enough to be untouched. I believe the others will need you far more than I.” 
As the healer moved away a small voice entered the elf’s head. _Modeus appears mad._ “Yes it would seem so,” the high elf replied. 

_“Jerome, Extraxi, Morrak, Bjor and Uthait I have no real need to speak to you in private so you four may remain here and continue with your first lesson should you choose to. If you do then follow me."_ Modeus said turning toward another door. Uthiat followed his expression still neutral. 

As they followed Meldiriel shifted on the Uthiat’s shoulder. _What do you think he has planned for you?_
 “I could not say little one,” Uthiat replied glancing around, “Training takes many forms.” 
_A fight? _
“Yes it could be.” 
_You didn’t seem to fight with the others. Why did you not attack?_ 
“There is much to learn about conflict little one. That was not the place for me. I am a wielder of magic, not of strength. By the time I could have done anything it was too late.” 
_Why did you not use your magic from the ladder like the others?_ 
“There was too much risk. Falling from height could have injured both of us. My magic is not like theirs. Their magic is far more… volatile. It comes from .” 
_Could I learn magic?_ 
Uthiat had a sudden puzzled look, and slowly his smile returned. “I can see no reason why not. As long as you have the drive, and enough of an aptitude toward it.”


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi relaxed. Modeus was taking matters into his own hands which suited the Dark Elf fine. Extraxi waited patiently for the paladins to reach him. A dwarven healer checked him over, proclaiming him physically unhurt before one of the paladins rested a hand on Extraxi’s brow. The paladin kept his eyes closed for a minute or so and during that time Extraxi felt the darkness that had burdened his soul since the appearance of the demon fade. Once it was gone he relished the freedom. He almost felt as if he could fly… Although he was not stupid enough to test that theory by jumping off the mountain. He nodded at Modeus’ words but hesitated mid stride. Someone would have to make sure the other three none warlocks didn’t kill each other but he shrugged. No doubt the paladins could take care of themselves. He left the room through the archway and cast a last glance back at the members of his band. He shook his head sadly. They still had a long way to go before they would die for each other but Modeus must still have faith or else they would all have been kicked out of this place by now…


----------



## Angel of Blood

"ALL OF YOU WILL STOP THIS IDIOCY NOW!"

Modeus yelled, breaking the tension of the situation that was balanced on a knife edge. He mentioned the supposed brotherhood they were meant to be forming and Kell scoffed privately at the idea. The warlocks could clearly not be trusts, never mind the bitch his pistol was currently pressing against. 

But Modeus was in charge supposedly and this was his domain. With one last sidewards glance at the Dragon Lord, Kell removed his pistol from Andalsteins temple, but not before nudging it against her slightly to emphasise his point. He spun his pistol deftly through his hand as he holstered it, gave the She-Wold a final wink and then turned away as Modeus pushed the others apart. Healers rushed into the room as Modeus ordered some of the apprentices to come and see him, Kell included, but the warlocks were to go in first, with any luck to be heavily reprimanded and possible even expelled from the hold. 

Kell walked over to the bookshelf were Typhon was huddled and held his arm out, nodded his head to indicate the young drake to jump down. Typhon took one last glance at Modeus and his blade before lightly leaping down onto Kells arm and scuttling up to his shoulder once again.

_‘Care to tell me what all the screaming was about back then?’_

He thought inside his head to Typhon, the method of communication still feeling odd and slightly crazy, though it clearly worked as a moment later he heard within his mind his dragon reply.

_’I.....I don’t know. When Modeus drew his sword every part of my body stood on end...I don’t know why or can’t explain but I’m terrified of that blade. The others too..._’

Kell narrowed his eyes and looked back towards Modeus. Why would they all be so seemingly mortally afraid of the weapon? Having never even seen it before. He made a mental note to find out more about it, though he had a feeling it would be best not to ask Modeus directly, especially if Typhon was with him.

Shrugging he made his way to where Modeus had left with Avariss and Andaleth. He stood apart from the other two for now. Pondering what the Dragon Lord would have to say to them.


----------



## revan4559

Andaleth and Avariss: Just as you two start to make your way down the hall that Modeus left through he meets you have way and motions for you to return to his study with him and once you return to the librarian/armoury he closes the doors behind him and the dwarves close the other door once they leave. Sighing Modeus looks at the shattered desk and clicks his fingers using his magic to reform it while two chairs slide up next to each other on the opposite side of Modeus's chair. Sittinf down the Dragon Lord then motions for each of you to take a seat as he pours out a goblet of elven wine for each of you and himself before taking a large swing then focuses his purple gaze on the both of you. "What am I doing to do with the both of you? You two have caused a problem as I know most of the other apprentices will want you to be kicked out, others will wont you dead while others won't care. But i will be doing none of these things as you two are two of the most promising apprentices I have and are some of the greatest magic users of them but the powers you use are unstable, unsubtle and come at a high cost. So I have decided that I will be training you two personally to control your powers better and in exchange you are both to help me find a cure to for the physical corruption of Fel Magic." Modeus's eyes then shift to look at Avariss and narrows his gaze slightly. "I know i snapped at you earlier for the mention of necromancy but I have heard rumors that the dark magic can slow it. Me saying this does not mean either of you can learn or practice it until I deem it is for the benifit of all those who pay the price of using Fel Magic and even then you shall be heavily watched. Is that understood?" How do you answer the Dragon Lord? How do you feel about his deal with the two of you? What do you think about Necromancy having a possible cure to the corruption of Fel Magic?

Adalstienn, Aseer and Kell: After the three of you have your injures dealt with and gather up your dragons you go through the doors that Modeus and the other apprentices left through which Andaleth and Avariss still have their wounds seen to. Walking down the hall lit by many torches you start to feel it get colder as you approach a left turn and walk through an open set of doors, once you walk into the room beyong you cna see that it is completely bare of decorations and has a hole in the side of the wall that leads into the outside world. Sat in the middle of the room is Zar'Tharon the Dragon Lords own dragon who has his back to you and is currently looking at the High Lord and other apprentices while the Dragon Lord talks to them. Once he is done Modeus turns his attention to you and walks straight over to you as his purple eyes appear to be filled with anger, disappointment and even shame as he looks over you. "You three could of killed each other and maybe more of the other apprentices during the event several minutes ago and im disappointed that you tried to. Did none of you stop and think of the consequences of your actions or decide to wait for me to intervene first of all or await for orders? No it appears not. I really should be punishing each of you severely for trying to kill each other but what kind of example would that be to the others and what kind of a master would that make me? As punishment you are to report to me at the end of each day of training to talk with me until i decide otherwise, and for the next three months you are to clean the Great Hall with no help from anyone. Is that understood?" Modeus awaits your answer before he nods his head then looks at his dragon. "Now that is settled you may join the others for a lesson with Zar'tharon, excuse me." Modeus then walks passed you and back into his study leaving you time to do what you wish.

Uthiat, Extraxi, Jerome, Morrak and Bjor: You five follow the Dragon Lord through a brightly light hallway covered in torches until the hallway turns left and ends with another set of large doors which he pushes open easily, stepping into the room beyong you can see that the room is completely bare and even has a huge part of the eastern wall taking out of it and reveals the outside world. Walking towards the large hole in the wall which you guess it about five times larger then Zar'tharon(modeus's dragon) the Dragon Lord shouts a word in an unknown language then stands there waiting while motioning you all closer. "I know i said i was going to give you all a history lesson but due to the foolishness of the rest of your group ill be having to hand this history lesson over to a substitute teacher." As you move closer to the large hole in the wall you can feel how cold it is outside and should any of you lean out slightly and look up you can see that you are about three-quaters of the way up the mountain and a few moments later you hear the beating of wings as the large obsidian form of Zar'tharon comes into view and flies into the open space just behind you. "Zar'tharon shall be taking you for your first history lesson so feel free to ask him what ever questions you like my apprentices. He will answer them as best it can then tell you of the War of the Ancients should you so wish it." With that Modeus bows to you and your dragons and sets off to gather up the other apprentices who have just walked through the doorway. (What kind of questions do you have for the dragon? How do you feel about being taught by such a mighty beast? Do you ask Zar'tharon about himself or any adventures that he has been on? Do your dragons ask the mighty wyrm what it is like to fly and breath fire? What do you do?)


----------



## Otep

((ooc; sorry mobile update again))

Adalstienn smiled slightly as the cold metal of the pistol pressed against her skull. "Kell to the rescue" she thought to herself. The three of them stood silently as if attempting to see who would give in first. No one moved, hell she didnt even remember seeing any of them breathing herself included.

The Dragon lord shouted his disapproval and informed which groups were to see him togeather. The order or grouping didn't bother adalstienn any. 

The pistol pressed against her skull again. "A man who sneaks in for the dirty kill... Seems like we share some tactics in that aspect." She smiled again, that would probally piss him off being compaired to her. The blades in her hands were quickly put back onto her hips. 

She started to walk away when she felt herself stumble. Her body was still weak now that the adrenalin left it. Adalstienn put her hand on the table to support herself as she quickly sat in the chair before her legs gave in.


----------



## Midge913

Making his way slowly down the hallway, Andaleth kept his eyes on Modeus' back. The Dragon lord seemed to be stalling for time, alone with his thoughts, and Andaleth felt the same. Before the incident he had been talking to Sirrush about how it was he who controlled his magic, not the other way around. He know had evidence to the contrary. He had not intended to summon a daemon, a spirit of rage and death, into their midst. He had been afraid, afraid that the home that he finally thought he had was going to be taken from him. He had been full of rage, rage at that she-wolf for her unprevoked attack on their master. So many thoughts and emotions were swirling around in his head that he thought that he may go insane. 

_"Peace Andaleth,"_ Sirrush's calm voice cut through the clamoring chaos of his thoughts. _"All will be well. I have faith that you will learn control. Perhaps Modeus or even Avariss could help with that."_ For a moment Andaleth was confused as to how the little drake knew of his thoughts, then it all came crashing back down around him. He was bonded to the drake, in mind and soul. Experimenting he said to Sirrush, in his mind only, focusing his will to send the words along the connection that he constantly felt with Sirrush. "Can you hear me young one?" He asked. His query was met with a small, but satisfied chuckle_,"Of course I can Andaleth. Though I thought it would take you longer to master this task than it did. I think that perhaps our shared experience against the will of the Daemon has strengthened our bond in a way that could not have happened other wise. So take that to heart. Not all experiences end for the worse." _

"I suppose," Andaleth answered across their mental link,"though I doubt any of the others will trust me after that display of dark power." That thought sent him back into a depressive introspection. He had hoped that he would have been able to make some real connections, develope real relationships. All that he had managed to do was ostricsize the others, and make acquiantences with a daemon possessed warlock. Not the start he had hoped for at all. 

_"Worry not my fiend,"_ Sirrush's voice cut back across the link_,"I think that you will find them to be receptive to you once you prove your worth. As I have already said, your power is still just a tool, you make the decisions how to use it."_ Andaleth let out a resigned laugh,"I have already mucked that up in case you missed it." 

Sirrush didn't exactly sigh, but the implication was the same as he curled his neck back down around Andaleth's shoulders. The drake closed his eyes but said, _"Have you thought anymore on the issue of Modeus' potion to extend your lifespan?"_

Andaleth was taken a bit aback. In the commotion of the study he had forgotten all about it, though as he thoughts returned to the small vial in his pouch, his mind was much clearer about the issue. Taking the vial out and removing the stopper he downed the acrid potion in one gulp. He felt the stinging warmth of the liquid flow down the back of his throat and the slow burning of it in his stomach. "Time is what I need little one," he said across the link, "and time I know have." Sirrush made a small satisfied sound that conveyed most aptly that he knew that Andaleth would come to this decision eventually, but that to push would have forced him to dig his heels in against it. Once again he was reminded of the wisdom of his new companion. 

Lost in thought as he was Andaleth almost ran into Modeus as the Dragon Lord turned and motioned for Andaleth and Avariss, who Andaleth had not noticed take pace beside him, to return to his study. Andaleth complied without question and as they walked back into the High Lord's study he marvelled at Modeus' skill as with a wave of his hand the Dragon Lord repaired the shattered desk. With anothe flick of his wrist Modeus caused two chairs to pull up to the desk opposite his own, and he motioned for them to sit. To Andaleth's surprise his master did not rage and shout at them. Instead he poured them each a goblet of Elven Wine and turned an appraising gaze upon them as he took his seat. 

_"What am I doing to do with the both of you?"_ he asked, _"You two have caused a problem as I know most of the other apprentices will want you to be kicked out, others will wont you dead while others won't care. But i will be doing none of these things as you two are two of the most promising apprentices I have and are some of the greatest magic users of them but the powers you use are unstable, unsubtle and come at a high cost. So I have decided that I will be training you two personally to control your powers better and in exchange you are both to help me find a cure to for the physical corruption of Fel Magic."_ Andaleth almost spat the wine out that he had just taken into his mouth. He stared at Modeus as if the man had just sprouted tentacles from his ears. That wasn't possible. How was he going to contribute to a magical endeavor of that nature. He barely had control of his own innate powers let alone use them for research. Steadying himself he listened as Modeus continued, his words directed at Avariss, _"I know i snapped at you earlier for the mention of necromancy but I have heard rumors that the dark magic can slow it. Me saying this does not mean either of you can learn or practice it until I deem it is for the benifit of all those who pay the price of using Fel Magic and even then you shall be heavily watched. Is that understood?" _Andaleth nodded in assent. 

He was totally conflicted now. Necromancy was an abhoration, he would never stoop to learning its foul arts. But..... if the practice could save him from corruption of mind and body.

_"No Andaleth,"_ Sirrush said forcibly, _"I will not take part in that. I refuse to be a party to that kind of black magic. Would you really save your body, just to damn your soul?"_

Sirrush was right. "My Lord," Andaleth said, "What I have done is unconscionable and I will take whatever punishment you met out, but I am not sure what help I would be in the task you have set. I barely can control my power as it is, let alone provide any real assistance, but I will do my best if that is what is required. I will say this... I will have no part in the learning or study of that foul art, and neither will Sirrush. Such a cure would be a deal with the devil, and I will not save our bodies, only to damn our souls."


----------



## Rems

Substitute teacher? Thought Jerome. But who else could be qualified to teach them? Then a obsidian blur comes into view, swooping into the open hall. The rush of air, ruffled the young noble’s hair and he involuntarily ducked slightly as Zar’tharon flew over his head, still not entirely used to the notion of friendly dragons, especially ones so large. 

Jerome watched the great drake as it settled down, folding huge pinions back into its body. The dragon was a awesome sight, an apex predator. Large scales, black, covered the creature which despite his foreknowledge still seemed to emit a palpable sense of menace. 

“You will one day be so large” he thought to Oberon. 

“Though twice as fine looking” sent the small wyrmling back, prideful. It was true thought Jerome; Oberon’s scales were a deep bronze that glimmered in the light. He imagined Oberon would look both beautiful and deadly, the colour of man’s first weapons. Fitting then that he should be ridden by one of man’s first and surely destined to be the greatest, he thought to himself, dragon riders. 

Jerome was dismayed however that this would be a mere history lesson. He could feel Oberon echoing his sentiments. While he understood the value of history and could at times enjoy it; especially the battles, it was not the easiest thing to focus on while a large scaled creature is talking to you. A lesson on flying or fighting from the back of a dragon would have been much more exciting for the nobleman. Still it was called the ‘War of the Ancients’ which at least promised some fighting.


----------



## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

*“NO! I am not leaving”.* _ “Please, Morrak. Be reasonable!”._ *“No!”* Morrak angrily stormed back towards Aseer and the others. Valerian followed, wondering why this always happened with Morrak. _“Morrak, please think. For once, just pay attention!”._ Morrak turned back to Valerian. *“Why? Why would I possibly leave?”* “History! Think about what we can learn from it”. *“You go, since you’re so interested”*. _“You know I won’t leave you Morrak. But if I have to I will drag you along”_. Morrak sighed in frustration. *“Fine. Ill come”*._ “Thank you Morrak. I am sure you will find this interesting”.
_
Morrak Valerian and all the others followed Modeus down the hall, through a huge doorway that Morrak guessed was a couple times bigger than Modeus’ dragon. They were brought through it, and then Modeus spoke. "I know i said i was going to give you all a history lesson but due to the foolishness of the rest of your group ill be having to hand this history lesson over to a substitute teacher." Morrak could see his own confusion reflected on those of his fellow apprentices. Then, in flew Modeus’ dragon, Zar'tharon. "Zar'tharon shall be taking you for your first history lesson so feel free to ask him what ever questions you like my apprentices. He will answer them as best it can then tell you of the War of the Ancients should you so wish it."

Morrak wasn’t sure what to say, but Valerian did. He, again, sent thoughts out to all in the room saying _“Great Zar’tharon, could you tell us of when Modeus first met you? And of some of your first adventures with him?_


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat's mood had improved in the short walk. Perhapse it was the air, or the change in mood, or the fact that no one was squaring off to kill eachother. Still the entire matter had gotten him thinking. There was so much he must learn in order to suit the others here. If they must learn to work with one another than there would be quite alot for each to do.

Cool air was slowly creaping into the room as they halted. Modeus spoke. As he did Meldiriel shifted on his shoulder.
_A dragon?_ she said with some excitement.

The massive form suddenly swooped in blocking the light. Claws gripped into the mage's clothing. Glancing to one side Uthiat could see her watching the massive creature that was Zar'tharon. Her eyes widened, _why are you not firghtened? He is massive! He could eat you in a single bite!_
"Yes," the elf said smiling, "I suppose he could, but believe he would not. You would be that big some day."
_Are you going to ask him somthing?_
"I suppose," Uthiat said as Modeus walked away.
_What will you ask?_

_"Great Zar’tharon, could you tell us of when Modeus first met you? And of some of your first adventures with him"_ One of the others asked.

_What about flying, ask him about flying. And breathing flame, ask about that._Uthiat smiled. "Ask him yourself," he told the little dragon on his shoulder. Meldiriel looked at him with wide eyes. "Go on."
_Great Zar'tharon,_ the tiny dragon began, _When will I fly? When will I breath flames? How old are you?_ she turned back to the mage, _Like that?_
Uthiat smiled slightly trying to hold back a laugh. "It is good to meet you again Zar'tharon," he said with a slight bow, "This little one is Meldiriel and I believe she is excited to meet you as well. I have only one question for you at this time. Are dragons in tune with the winds of magic?"


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi did a double take when he discovered the nature of their substitute teacher. Modeus left as the massive dragon landed, shaking the ground. Glacies shied away from him and Extraxi smiled slightly. Afraid little one he thought humorously. Shouldn’t I be the dragon replied. He is more than 100 times my size, can breath fire and can fly while I can do neither. Extraxi’s smile widened. But soon you will little one, with that he turned back to the dragon, ignoring the little burst of pride that passed through the mental link when Glacies understood this. He heard the questions of the other dragons and that of Uthiat before he asked his own. “Modeus mentioned a war of the ancients, I would be intrigued to learn of it…”


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell once again found himself on an outside area of sorts of the fortress, wondering just how many of them the Hold had. As he sauntered out through the doorway the first thing that caught his eye was the massive drake, Zar’Tharon, taking up the majority of the space. Its back was currently to them as it looked at the two warlocks alongside Modeus. Kell dearly hoped that Modeus was in the process of ejecting them from the Hold, or better still preparing to feed them to Zar’Tharon. His eyes narrowed however as he read the body language of the two, they in his opinion did not have the look of individuals being told to leave or indeed even receiving heavy punishment.

Evidently finished with the pair, Modeus turned and strode over to them, the look in his eyes full of a mixture of emotions, but that was to be expected of course with the trouble the warlocks had caused. Kell grinned slightly at the thought. The grin faded however as he this time took in the body language or the High Lord. This look wasn’t due to the other apprentices, but reserved for the three of them in front of him now.

"You three could have killed each other and maybe more of the other apprentices during the event several minutes ago and I’m disappointed that you tried to. Did none of you stop and think of the consequences of your actions or decide to wait for me to intervene first of all or await for orders? No it appears not. I really should be punishing each of you severely for trying to kill each other but what kind of example would that be to the others and what kind of a master would that make me? As punishment you are to report to me at the end of each day of training to talk with me until i decide otherwise, and for the next three months you are to clean the Great Hall with no help from anyone. Is that understood?"

There was a pause as they took in the High Lords words, broken a moment later as Kell began to laugh slowly, searching for a look of mischievousness or sarcasm in Modeus eyes or expression. His laughter fell away though as he detected neither.

“You’re not serious surely?” He sputtered as he stared at Modeus “You can’t possibly be serious!”

He looked exasperatingly between the other two and the High Lord.

“You’re actually punishing me for stopping that untrustworthy harlot from possibly killing Aseer?! Have you forgotten that only minutes before she bloody stabbed *you*!!”

His look of exasperation changed to a look of incongruity.

“And wait for you to intervene? Care to tell me when exactly you were planning on doing so? Was it before or after she slit Aseers throat, you had already done nothing to stop Aseer shooting Avariss, something I’m not concerned about in the slightest I might add. And what sort of punishment is this? I did not come here to become your Holds caretaker or through need of someone to talk to. And the same punishment as the she-wolf? Do I need to remind you once again that *She. Stabbed. You!*” 

He looked at Modeus, now with rage in his eyes, the cool, calculated and nonchalant manner in which he normally conducted himself slipping away. 

“How exactly did you punish the warlocks out of curiosity? I only ask because I can read people quite well and they did not have the look of two people who have suffered a punishment worthy of almost killing us all, if they were indeed punished at all. So no, it is most certainly not understood and I’ll take no part in such a farce.”

With that he spun on his heel and marched from the room in the direction of his quarters, feeling more pissed off than he had felt in a very long time. He heard Typhon carefully say in his head

_‘He’s not going to be happy about that is he?’_

‘I couldn’t give a damn what he thinks at the moment, this whole things more farcical than a jesters court.’


----------



## Yru0

The lord's massive drake, Za'tharon, loomed in the suddenly cramped cavern, his mighty form demanding the hastily stolen glances of shock and awe from the apprentices; however, Aseer's eyes were riveted in disbelief at the High Lord himself, the archer's mouth hanging aghast as the relentless barrage assailed from Modeus. The words spilling from his mouth seemed sluggish to Aseer's brain, slowly collapsing like a deck of cards as it struggled to understand the impossible meaning behind it.

"You three could have killed each other and maybe more of the other apprentices during the event several minutes ago and I’m disappointed that you tried to. Did none of you stop and think of the consequences of your actions or decide to wait for me to intervene first of all or await for orders? No it appears not. I really should be punishing each of you severely for trying to kill each other but what kind of example would that be to the others and what kind of a master would that make me? As punishment you are to report to me at the end of each day of training to talk with me until i decide otherwise, and for the next three months you are to clean the Great Hall with no help from anyone. Is that understood?"

The high lord blamed *them*? Soon disbelief manifested itself in fury and anger, how dare he! Was it not the accursed witch herself who had broken the already fragile balance that had reigned over their group? Her actions had sparked the summoning of a foul beast and the near collapse of their ramshackle group; she was a cancer that had to be removed for the sake of the whole! However, before Aseer could mention a single utterance of his defiance, the hearty and somewhat surprising, laughter of his companion reverberated around the chamber. Watching as the real meaning behind Modeus' words dawned on him, Kell soon became infuriated and made no attempt to hide the fact.

Listening to the tirade from the insulted warrior, Aseer held his tongue and let him burn through his anger, nodding here and there, taking heart that he was not alone in his disbelief. Eventually, enraged by the injustice, Kell stalked away from the group, appearing to be in such a rage as to be willing, and well capable, of going toe to toe with a fully grown Wyrm; Aseer turned to the high lord, searching for any sign of regret or glimpse of the truth: he saw none. 
"My lord, I feel as if there is nothing for me to say as my comrade Kell has explained the injustice before us fully enough, and this wretch" disgust evident in his voice as he gestured towards the root of the infection, "does not have the right to listen to my reasons. But, may I ask you this: if you stand by idly when we are attacked from an unexpected location, and you expect us to do the same, what will happen when we face a foe armed with more than simple knives and daggers?" 
Seraphim quickly leaped onto Aseer's shoulder with a hiss at the she-wolf as he turned quickly after Kell, jogging lightly after the still fuming warrior.
"Kell! Hold on for a second will you?" he called as he approached the northman, "I'd like to thank you for your support, and I would like you to know that I shall stand by you as a fellow. Although perhaps you might not want to miss our first lesson, that _monster_" muttered Aseer, spitting on the floor in honour of the 'wolf', "is a threat to us all; but I'll be damned if I stand around in my own anger as she earns the lord's good graces. I intend to hear this lesson out, so that I may better prevent her vile presense from completely dooming our mob to failure, but if you decide that it's not worth being in the same room as the whore, then I ask if you would accept some company?"


----------



## komanko

He walked forward in silence, the adrenaline from the fight began to disperse and he could feel his whole body in pain. His left shoulder was aching in pain from when he slammed into the door by the force of the fireball. All of his left side felt like it was still burning, it stung and ached and hurt, never ending pain, never ending reminder of his own failure. He should’ve known that daemons were fire resistant, it should be obvious considering they live in a fiery realm… Do they? Avariss never heard of anyone who made his way into the Void while alive and made his way out as well… That meant that the Void could be anything, no one knew what it was really like.

He looked forward and saw Andaleth just a few steps away from him, he won’t bother him, that man had enough to deal with on his own, and it did not seem like he wasn’t aware of it, he seemed gloomy, depressive and shameful. At least that’s how he looked like judging by the way he walked.

Suddenly Modeus passed by heading towards the other end of the corridor, it seemed like he was taking them back now… Couldn’t decide could he? Avariss sighed, he was getting tired of Modeus’s way of treating them even though they were his apprentices… As he passed he motioned them back towards the study room which they just left and again they began following him.

While walking back he wondered what it would’ve been like to just stay on the border of the darklands, he had a silent agreement with the smaller creatures who prowled and crawled around there, he didn’t bother them and they didn’t bother him. In times it seemed like they were intentionally avoiding him, like something was warding them off, scaring them. It was surely not Avariss, he was not threatening nor scary. Could the simple creatures feel the presence of the Voice? Were they that simple that they could just see through Avariss, see him as two different entities? It was a curious question, simple mind, simple answer.

He smiled as he thought about the way that the world worked, it was so unnatural and yet completely natural at the same tie. Interesting indeed. He would have to test his theory sometime. It was an interesting thought by itself and if proved correct it would show him that simple creatures could get simple answers from difficult questions. 

Avariss stored that thought away inside his mind, he would hopefully return to it one day if he won’t be killed before that. His general suspicion of his own mind made him wonder if it was possible that Voice could access his own memories, ideas, and thoughts? That was a terrible thought because if it was true he would not be able to think clearly anymore, he can’t trust his own daemons to seek what is best for him… And if it could access his memories did it mean that it could alter them? This thought was even scarier and he did not want to expand on it…

Finally they have reached the same room, the library which was an armory as well. A weird combination though a good one if one was all day long in the library. Would make it easier to not be caught off guard. Once they entered the room all of the people inside went out and once the last of the dwarves left he closed the door behind him.

Avariss already prepared himself for the imminent chastising. Modeus would not be able to simply let this one pass, it would seem irrational, although Avariss contributed much less to the chaos which was in the room just a few minutes ago he knew that if Modeus will unleash his wrath he won’t be spared, the lord was obviously still angry about the necromantic interest that Avariss has shown.

Modeus walked towards the ruined table and sighed, he did not seem angry, he surprisingly seemed uncertain and confused, like he did not know what he was going to do. In a way he also seemed disappointed yet Avariss did not know who he should attribute this feelings to, was it because of the raging daemon that was unleashed or was it because three apprentices nearly died just a few moment ago by the hands of their supposed friends. 

With a click of two fingers the table began mending itself, again Modeus proved his magical capabilities and Avariss was getting tired from all this showing off behavior, he could’ve done it anytime else, he didn’t have to do some magical tricks each time an apprentice was near. With a wave of his hand three chairs slid towards each end of the now reforming table. Two on one side, one on the other.

The Lord then motioned for both him and Andaleth to take a sit, even more surprising was his next gesture, for some unknown reason and from some unknown place Modeus took out a bottle of elven wine, and poured it into three golden well made goblets, each of the goblets was decorated with small pictures of scenery and with trimmings of dragons catching their own tale.

Modeus passed two of the goblets to Andaleth and him, Avariss smelled the substance, it was elven wine indeed, it was a long time since he tasted it. Painful memories began to flood him as he remembered his previous life. Gresh’Thoth stretched both his heads and smelled the wine in the goblets. The dragon then quickly coiled back as if smelling poison, “It smells badly.” Gresh muttered, “And the taste is even worse” Thoth said taking his head off the goblet. Avariss couldn’t help but smile.

He pushed the goblet away and said, “I genuinely refuse, I’m still trying to recover from last night’s adventure into the mead barrel.” Modeus ignored his comment and simply stared at both the warlocks. After what seemed to be eternity the dragon lord took a swing from his goblet and emptied it completely. With that done he spoke asking them what he should do with them? A stupid question, it’s not that they had any real influence on his decision, from the short time that he spent with Modeus Avariss was positively sure that he already made up his mind.

Without waiting for an answer he continued saying that he knows the will of his apprentices, he knows that some might not care at all and some would want them kicked while others won’t stop until they see an execution for what they have done, for the chaos they created. He then continued and said that he won’t be doing any of this things, Avariss raised an eyebrow, maybe he misjudged the lord? Maybe he was not a pompous idiot, the one Avariss thought him to be…

He was about to ask the lord to explain why when he explained by himself, something which in a way shook Avariss’s image of Modeus, he said that he won’t be doing any of those things simply because they are some of the most promising students that he ever had, yet he added that the power that both Andaleth and him use are unstable at best, and come with a high cost, one which Avariss would like to avoid in any possible way. 

He could already imagine his burned body mending the flesh into a tainted broken mixture of corruption and dead flesh, he could nearly smell the scent of the rotten thing upon his face, he could nearly feel the swampish green fumes raising from cracks between the tainted flesh. He shook his head in disgust and refocused on what Modeus was saying while involuntary raising a hand to touch his charred flesh just to be sure that it is not what he had just imagined.

It seemed that Modeus was full of surprises today, not only did he continued by saying that he will train them both personally which in a way also alarmed and also flattered Avariss, he also said that they in exchange will help him find a cure to the fel corruption. Avariss was more than suspicious about it, he was sure that the dragon lord just wanted to keep a closer eye on them.

Avariss then noticed that Modeus was looking at him with narrowed eyes, it seemed like he was trying to pierce his very soul just by looking at him and then he said the thing which surprised Avariss the most so far. He said that he knew that he snapped at him when he mentioned the necromancy, yet he confessed that he heard rumors that it could slow the corruption and this meant more to Avariss then Modeus knew. 

It wasn’t the fact that in a way Modeus apologized, neither was it the fact that they might be using necromancy later on in order to find a cure. It was the fact that Avariss was right, although it was not Avariss, it was his dream, his vision, the dream was right and that brought to mind the question, who made this dream? The only answer he could find was the Voice, yet why? Wasn’t that being bent on tearing itself apart from him, escaping back to reality? Wasn’t it evil incarnate? If so, could this all be a trap? Yet Modeus said himself that he heard rumors…

It was all too confusing for Avariss especially the idea that the Voice helped him for some unknown reason and purpose, a thought which scared him to the depths of his soul.

Avariss nodded to the lord in approval and said “I accept your judgments yet this turn of events brings a lot of questions into my mind, many of them which are not directly associated with you, many which will probably determine if I live or die in the upcoming rough and tough times…”

He then replied to Andaleth who said that he would not be a part of this. “You are a fool, knowledge in all its forums is a gift, necromancy, or the foul art as you call it is but a piece of rare and precious knowledge, to know it does not mean to corrupt someone’s soul, to use it aggressively and without thinking is the real mistake. Yet if you won’t take part in it bear in mind the option that you won’t be able to cure your corruption, not because a cure will not be found but because there is a chance that the cure would require this knowledge in order to enact.”

He then sighed and looked at Andaleth with a guilty smile and eyes full of self pity. “I… I have no other choice. I have nothing to lose and you are probably the only one who can vaguely understand now… I fear for myself, I fear for everyone around me. While you can’t control your daemons I can barely control myself.” He sighed and smiled a smile full of pain.

“Always remember that what you do, your actions, your words, they are what will be damning or cleansing your soul. The way you achieve those actions are not necessarily what will be damning you. One can use everything with care, caution, and love, while others can use the same things with hate, anger, and fear. Magic and knowledge are just like a sword, one can cut with it and one can be cut by it. Always remember this and consider it, don’t damn something for simply what it is.”

“Don’t damn me for what I am.” He whispered softly into Andaleth’s ear while walking away slowly and quietly. He was like a shadow on reality, like a shadow in the void, one who walks between… On a thin line…


----------



## revan4559

Andaleth and Avariss: The Dragon Lord listens to each of you speak before nodding and pushes himself up as Kell strides through the study and leaves back down the stairs. "If you exscuse me I better go deal with a very annoyed human, so please make your way through the hall that he entered and continue your lesson with me dragon, Zar'tharon as I believe he will answer any of your questions and even tell you about the War of the Ancients." After that the Dragon Lord bows and leaves the study after Kell leaving you two to talk and make your way to the other room where the rest of the apprentices are. (See the everyone post below).

Aseer: After thanking Kell for his support you leave him be and return to where the rest of the apprentices are gathered along with the Great Dragon Zar'tharon to listen to him answer questions and tell the group what is known about the War of the Ancients. (see the everyone post below and your in the long list below aswell.)

Kell: Aseer tells you that thank you for your support during the incidicent in Modeus's study before he rambles on about the norse-woman before heading back to where Modeus's dragon was set with the rest of the apprentices and as you storm through the study and back down the stairs towards the main part of the hold you see Modeus talking to the two warlocks in the corner of the study but decide to ignore them. On your way down to your room Typhon remains sat on your shoulder but oddly doesn't attack you obviously sensing your foul move so he seems content to stare at the shadows as you make your way down, once you finish decending the stairs and exit through the door that you entered through earlier your dragon jumps off of your shoulder and lands on the ground before moving towards one of the shadows though if you decide to stop him that is you, now the only problem you face is from here you have no idea how to return to your room or any other parts of the hold so do you decide to ask for directions or wander around the keep exploring to find out what else the dwarves have within their home.

Uthiat, Extraxi, Jerome, Morrak and Bjor, Aseer and Adalstienn: Zar'tharon looks at all of you as you ask your quetions then lets out a roar like yawn and stretches his massive form before settling back down to answer each of your questions. "First of all little one I have always known Modeus as he raised me from an egg into what I am now, as for the adventures i've been on with him you can ask your rider about them as im sure they will know some tales of what me and the Dragonlord have done." The great black dragon then turns its attention to Uthait and Meldiriel as he continues to answer questions, first of all starting with the dragon-ling. "All dragons are able to breath fire or ice if they are ice-dragons by the time they are one year old, but you will be flying by the time you are six months as it is instinctive for dragons to learn so when they are young so they can better protect themselves while they are small. As for how old I am little one I myself have been alive for one-hundred-and-fifty-two years which is when I hatched and even though I am quite large at the moment I am still considered small by the rest of our race." The black dragon then turns its attention to look at Uthait before answering his question. "All dragons are intune with he winds of Magic, High Elf, but like all other races the strength of this varies as a can child born from parents of both wizards could have no magical potential at all, while a child born from two parents with no magical abilities what so ever could live to become the greatest mage of their age. So yes we are intune with the winds of magic but it varies from dragon to dragon." Zar'tharon nods to the mage before looking over the group as he is asked about the War of the Ancients. "I shall wait until the rest of the group has gathered before telling you what historians of the elves and dwarves have translated of the war."

Everyone(Except Kell): Zar'tharon looks back as Andaleth, Avariss, Adalstienn and Aseer join the group along with their dragons before nodding for them all to take a seat on the ground if you so wish. "Now that you are all gathered I shall begin".

"Thirty Five Thousand years ago when the 'eldar' races were still young and the humans had yet to crawl from their caves and walk in the light of day the land was dominated by nine ancient races; The Dragons, Giants, Daemons, Serpents, Chimeras, Manticores, Elementals, Spiders and finally the Celestials. The ancients were an arrogant race that during their time ruling what is now known as Em'Ralden and the Dark lands they failed to recognize the younger races that had only just started to make themselves known to the world, these three races would later be known as: The Elves, The Dwarves and The Orcs. For over five thousand years these three fledging races grew in number, strength and arrogance as it came to a point when they believed that they could actually wrestle control from the Ancients that still ruled the land.

The first battle that sparked the war was between the Elves and the Serpents of the world. Originally the Serpent race was known as the Naga and all serpentine creatures are either descends or creations of them and they made their home at the foot of what is now the Kel'Karadorn Mountains. The elven armies fell upon the cities of the Naga with such speed and determination that the Naga barely had time to figure out who they were under attack by and by the time they had rallied their forces to push back the invaders it was already too late as three of their major cities were reduced to burning ruins, the Naga saw that the Elves were a threat and sent word to the other ancients to warn them but it was already too late as the Dwarves and Orcs had already struck at the other Ancient races already with the Dwarves setting out to defeat the Giants and the Orcs setting off to exterminate the Chimera's and Manticores.

The surprise attacks that the Elves, Orcs and Dwarves made against the Ancients were met with great success as they managed to push back and slaughter hundreds if not thousands of the Ancients races save for the Celestials who managed to avoid conflict by living on the tallest peaks of the mountains. But due to their arrogance the fledging races didn't appreciate the true power of the ancients, though for several hundred years the young races held the upper hand it all changed when the oldest of the oldest and most ancient of The Ancients finally revealed themselves. From the frozen northern realms came Sargat Lord of Giants at the front of an army at which the very ground shook as they marched. From the murky depths of the ocean slithered Lethis as he made his presence known once again, coming to the aid of his children. Deep within the great forest an ancient evil awakened after a long slumber as thousands of spiders scurried to greet it, Aracnia the Spider queen. Within the volcanic region of Azgrad'dun the Daemons performed their foul rituals to summon forth, Sevestra the Mother of their dark race. Within the lands that would eventually become the High Elves the elementals stirred and heaved as the Elemental Conclave erupted into the world once more. From what was soon to become the Dark Lands the King of Chimeras and Master of Manticores took to the sky at the head of an army made up of hundreds of their kin. Finally descending from the heavens on wings the colour of blackest night came Karandrak, Father of Dragons as he came to seek retribution for the deaths of those dragons that had been killed over hundreds of years of conflict, now the War of Ancients had truly begun as creatures not seen since the dawn of time had returned to the world once more. Yet while the other ancients answered the call to war the Celestials remained within their mountain homes as the saw the horror of the coming war unfold in front of their eyes.

The eight ancients and their kin descended upon the three fledging races with strength, anger and wrath the likes of which the world had never seen and they slaughtered everything and everyone in payment for the arrogance of the younger races. Sevestra, The Elemental Conclave, Lethis and Karandrak focused all their attention on the elves, while Sargat and Aracnia focused on the dwarves which allowed the Manticores and Chimera's to fight the Orcs. While the war continued the Naga to replenish their numbers lost during the early parts of the war used their knowledge of magic and alchemy to create new monsters to unleash upon the world and it was during this time that the first Hydra's were created. As for the war reached its nine-hundredth year the Celestials saw what was going on and had decided they would intervene in this war to save the fledging races from being destroyed completely, from their mountain keeps they descended onto the battlefields and fought against the other ancients while other members of their race traveled to the leaders of the Elves, Orcs and Dwarves to instruct them how to combat the other ancients.

To the elves the Celestials taught how to harness the power of magic, the dwarves were taught how to forge weapons and armour with such skill that they surpassed all others and finally the Orcs were taught discipline and how to fight as a true civilized race should. It was during these times that the greatest smiths and mages of the three races came together to forge the weapons that would end the war and it was only thanks to the Celestials combating the Daemons and Elementals that allowed them the time to do this. Eight weapons of awesome power were created as the younger races poured all their hatred, anger and power of a single race of the ancients into each weapon so that it could be used to strike down the greatest of the ancients. The weapons they created were: Dragonsbane, Giant-Slayer, Daemons Death, Serpents Sword, Manticores Doom, Chimeras End. The Firesword, Earth Crusher, Deathwind, Wave Piercer and finally Spider Crusher.

With the aid of the Celestials the war finally swung back in the favour of the younger races and the Ancients decided to gamble on a final confrontation between themselves and the other races to determine who the world rightfully belonged to. Gathering all of their forces together the Ancients marched to what would become the dark lands where the final battle in the War of Ancients would take place, several days later the combined might of the Celestials, Elves, Dwarves and Orcs gathered opposite the Ancients themselves and prepared for the greatest battle in known history. As the first rays of the sun shone over the peaks of the mountains on what was the last day of the nine-hundredth and ninety ninth year of the war the two armies met in combat, The elves reigned death down upon their foes using their mighty long bows, The Dwarves held the armies of the ancients at bay with their disciplined and organized ranks, The Orcs slaughtered their way into the heart of the enemy and the Celestials did battle with the Daemons in the sky as they cast cataclysmic magic that could of torn the land apart. Upon the battlefield the bearers of the newly forged weapons of destruction fought their way to their main opponents, The Lords of the Ancients. The battle raged for an entire day and by the end of it both armies had almost been destroyed but as the Ancients fled after having been defeated two of their number lay amongst the dead and dying, Lethis the Soverign of Serpents and The King of Chimeras, both slain by the champions of the fledging races but while two of the original ancients lay dead the Elemental Conclave was imprisoned once again but this time within the four weapons that had defeated them. This was a great victory for the younger races that would soon become the 'Eldar' Races but it was bought at a cost, The Orcs race was shattered and divided with no-one to lead them and so they dispersed to the four winds to degenerate into savages, The Elven race was also without a leader and soon they would divide into the three sub-races that are around today.

With the end of the War of Ancients the now 'Eldar' Races turned their attention to cementing their place in the world for future generations but little did they know that eventually in years to come the children of the Ancients would return to cause them harm once again but not in the numbers they did. After bidding good bye to the 'Eldar' races the Celestials withdrew themselves from the world to seek out a home where no mortal or eldar race could trouble them and over the course of the next thirty-thousand years they would become all but forgotten by the younger races, become myths in the minds of the dwarves and a distant memory of the elves. It was also during these thirty-thousand years that all of the ancient weapons were lost with only four of them being found, along with the Serpents Sword being broken in battle and later reforged into several lesser blades. Of those weapons that are left since the great war only three have their location fully known as the shards of the Serpents Sword have disappeared. Dragonsbane currently resides in the use and care of The Dragon Lord Modeus which he retrieved from the oldest of the Hydras, Giant-Slayer has remained with the Dwarven High King for the last five-thousand years and has been passed down from King to King, The Firesword is now the prized possession of the Great Chieften of the Northmen and finally The Scythe Deathwind, resides within the college of Magic in the capital of the humans lands of Bel'angrath."

What do you think as the great drake tells you of history considered ancient by even the long lived Elves? What do you think about the powers that were unleashed and the forging of the great weapons? Do you have any questions about the war itself, the other races that are known only in myth and legand to most or about the powerful weapons themselves? What are you currently thinking and doing(along with your dragon).

OOC: Appearances of the races:

Naga: http://images.wikia.com/forgottenrealms/images/6/60/4e_yuan-ti.jpg

Giants: http://lh6.googleusercontent.com/_vlyvBf4tMXM/TWSit0re7PI/AAAAAAAACjs/CIwsqLAxvX8/Maruts.jpg

Daemons: http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/assets/16139/Shadow_Demon.jpg

Celestials: http://media.giantbomb.com/uploads/0/178/202219-tyrael_image_2.jpg

Chimera's: http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs36/f/2008/255/f/3/Anima__Arch_Chimera_by_Wen_M.jpg

Manticores: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_51LCYkM19...rbGQ/s1600/127285+[Elder+Manticore]final2.jpg

Spiders: http://images.wikia.com/dungeons/images/2/23/Spiders.jpg

Fire Elementals: http://images.wikia.com/locworldwarp/images/1/17/Fire_Elemental_2.jpg

Earth Elementals: http://www.digital-art-gallery.com/...emental_fantasy_picture_image_digital_art.jpg

Air Elementals: http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/wowwiki/images/f/fc/Air_Revenant.jpg

Water Elementals: http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs41/f/2009/033/4/1/Anima__Water_elemental_boss_by_Wen_M.jpg


----------



## Midge913

_“You are a fool, knowledge in all its forums is a gift, necromancy, or the foul art as you call it is but a piece of rare and precious knowledge, to know it does not mean to corrupt someone’s soul, to use it aggressively and without thinking is the real mistake. Yet if you won’t take part in it bear in mind the option that you won’t be able to cure your corruption, not because a cure will not be found but because there is a chance that the cure would require this knowledge in order to enact.”_ The other warlock said.

Andaleth felt his fists clench in quiet anger as Avariss spoke, and though his next words were filled with self-loathing and self-pity, Andaleth felt nothing but wariness. He had hoped that Avariss could eventually become some sort of ally, but if he was to turn down the path of darkness, whether he was forced by his daemon or chose it willingly, Andaleth would be there to stop him. He had seen what even fledgling necromancers were capable of and he would be no party to it. He would not allow that to happen. 

_“Always remember that what you do, your actions, your words, they are what will be damning or cleansing your soul. The way you achieve those actions are not necessarily what will be damning you. One can use everything with care, caution, and love, while others can use the same things with hate, anger, and fear. Magic and knowledge are just like a sword, one can cut with it and one can be cut by it. Always remember this and consider it, don’t damn something for simply what it is.”_ Avaraiss continued and Andaleth was rocked by these words. So Avariss claimed that actions would be what damned ones soul? Well was not the very act of Necromancy evil beyond forgiveness. Some knowledge was not just a tool, some knowledge was pure evil in its own right. Andaleth shuddered to think what that daemonic presence, contained in Avariss mind, would do with such power. 

Andaleth stayed rooted to his chair as the other warlock rose to leave, and almost recoiled as the dark elf leaned close to him and whispered, _"Don't damn me for what I am." _

Andaleth whispered back, though slightly louder than Avariss so that his words would reach the departing elf, _"I do not damn you for what you are Avariss... I fear what you may become."_ 

He stared into his goblet of wine for what seemed like an age as he pondered the situation he was in. He was unlikely to find friends and allies amongst the other apprentices after what had happened in the High Lord's study, and the one who stood to teach Andaleth the most was one that he felt he could not trust. _ "Calm your mind Andaleth,"_ Sirrush's voice cut across his musings, _"I shall be your ally and friend. As long as I live you shall never be alone."_ Andaleth felt comfort in that. He was unsure why he suddenly felt the need for companionship as most of his life he had worked alone. Relationships were a liability in his former profession, and he had always felt more comfortable on his own. Perhaps the full extent of his powers frightened him. Modeus had said that he and Avariss where perhaps the most powerful wielders of magic amongst the apprentices and that prospect was terrifying to say the least. He must learn control. 

Andaleth had almost forgotten that Modeus was still in the room and he started as Kell came stomping through the room, an aura of rage almost palpable around him. _ "If you will excuse me I better go deal with a very annoyed human. Please make your way through the hall and continue your lesson with my dragon, Zar'tharon, as I believe he will answer any or your questions and even tell you about the War of the Ancients,"_ the Dragon Lord said as he rose and left the study in pursuit of Kell.

_"I have been eager to meet Zar'tharon formally,"_Sirrush said,changing the subject before Andaleth could fall back into his melancholy. 

_"Indeed,"_ Andaleth answered, becoming more and more familiar and comfortable with communicating with Sirrush via their mental link_," He is an imposing figure. I have not spoken to him, but he was present at the welcome feast. I should think that you could learn much from him little one. I also wonder what this War of the Ancients is that Modeus spoke of."_

Draining the rest of his goblet, good wine should not go to waste he supposed, he stood and walked back down the hallway that Modeus indicated. Several moments later he found himself in an large cavern that opened to the outside. He could feel Sirrush's awe and trepidation as Zar'tharon came into view. Andaleth thought that he looked even more grand in the light of the sun than he had last night at the feast. He also grew to realize that Sirrush would look magnificent when he grew to be this size. Zar'tharon indicated with a glance and a nod that he and Sirrush should seat themselves and Andaleth did so, in the back of the group, his back against the wall, trying to stay out of sight of the group. He did not want his presence to cause tensions to flare once more. Sirrush clambered down from his shoulder and perched himself on Andaleth's knee, standing to his full height on his back legs to see the might dragons face over the the rest of the apprentices. His little friend was positively quivering with excitement, his earlier fear of the great drake when they had seen him on the outdoor landing, apparently forgotten in thirst for knowledge. 

Leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes, Andaleth listened as Zar'tharon spoke of might battles between the ancient and elder races. Cataclysmic clashes between dragons and elves, Daemons and celestial beings, giants and dwarves. His tale captivated Andaleth to his very core and he wondered what it would have been like to live in that chaotic time of magic and war and primal power. It also made him wonder what had happened to the Original Ancients that survived the war and escaped imprisionment. Yes the Elemental Conclave was now imprisioned in the weapons of power created to slay them, but two of those weapons were missing. The king of Serpents and the Lord of Manticores lay dead for millenia, but what of the others? What of the Lord of Dragons? What of the Master of the Giants? Did they still slumber somewhere in the furthest reaches of the world? Would they some day awake thirsty for revenge and hungry for power? Interesting querries indeed and Andaleth could feel that Sirrush was thinking the same things. What if those moster dieties of old reemerged from the dark places, hell bent on gain power and wreaking destruction on the races of men and elves. Without the lost weapons would the forces of men, elves, and dwarves be able to make a stand against them. Perhaps..... Perhaps this was part of the reason Modeus was creating the Riders. Not only to fight the battles of today, but to prepare for the wars of tomorrow.... 

When Zar'tharon finished his tale, Andaleth opened his eyes, and politely asked what he had been thinking,_ "Zar'tharon, what of the Original Ancients that survived the war? Do they still live? Does Modeus fear they will once again awaken to plague the world?"_


----------



## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

Zar’Tharon answered their questions in turn. When he answered Valerians, Morrak turned to his dragon and said *“Little one, everyone knows that. Jus as ye knew me from birth”.* _“I really don’t need that right now Morrak”._ Morrak chuckled lightly. As the great dragon continued, Valerian visibly relaxed when he heard that he would have fire soon. Zar’Tharon finished with saying "I shall wait until the rest of the group has gathered before telling you what historians of the elves and dwarves have translated of the war”. *“What do you think of that little one? Excited for some war stories?”* _“Not really. I think this is the one where the dwarves fight the dragons…”_ *“Well, that’s been happening for years. Not that surprising”.*

Finally all the apprentices arrived. Zar’Tharon started his talk immediately. Valerian heard the name of his forefather and shuddered involuntarily. Morrak gave him an inquiring look, and Valerian just shook his head. Valerian shuddered again at the mention of Dragonsbane, but Morrak understood this time and ignored it. As the tale wrapped up, Morrak asked Valerian if he had any of those “Natural Memories” he had exhibited earlier of the other races.

_“Yes, I do… Especially of the Naga and the Celestials. I remember the Celestials as heavenly beings, the most amazing sight to behold. However I can recall great anger at them for allowing the creation of the very weapons that destroyed my people. The Naga were… terrible. They looked like snakes, and had no mercy on any fronts. I can vaguely remember the Demons too, but they always blended in with the shadows, so not as much”._ Morrak quietly paused. *“I didn’t think you would actually remember… I am sorry I made you think of it”.* _“It’s alright, it was in my head already from the stories”._

They both sat in silence, watching the reactions of the others.


----------



## Rems

Nigh mythical beasts and tales of elder races from the dawn of time? Such tales they were! Jerome's warrior spirit exalted at the thought of such battles. To fight against beings of mythical power, and win, that was something. Jerome would have scoffed at such tales told as truth had they not come from a large dragon sitting in front of him. As such the nobleman was inclined to take the words as truth. it would certainly explain the dragon's reactions to Modeus sword. Evidently the Dragon Lord's power was even greater then he had first thought. 
_
"Why though would he need such a weapon?"_ came Oberon's voice in Jerome's mind. _"Does he expect, or know something?"_ It was true mused Jerome, why attain a weapon if you thought never to use it. 

"Zar'Tharon" he asked the great black drake, "Why does Modeus carry Dragonsbane? What cause does he have. Does he fear, or know a return of the ancients? it would not be the first thing he had not shared with us". Jerome spoke with deference, respecting the dragon's great age and knowledge and Modeus' position but without fear. He would nto cow his words for the sake of niceties.


----------



## Yru0

Kell had seemed pleased at his thanks, but Aseer figured that the man needed some time alone, probably with a bottle and something to hit. He sure did. How could Modeus even dare treat such a monster as their equal? She had killed hundreds, possibly more, of innocents roaming the wastes, and _this_ was supposed to be one of the heroic riders? Shaking his head in dismay, Aseer pushed the thoughts aside as the ancient drake began to address the group; tales of war, death and ancient beings sprung from the magnificent beast. Such tales were about the very creation of the world in which they now live, and Seraphim appeared to be soaking up every word like a sponge, her young eyes wide with curiosity, darting back and forth as if she could imagine the ancient conflicts that tore the world asunder. 

Once the dragon stopped, a barrage of questions assailed him, with all of the apprentices eager to find some extra detail. Andaleth queried about any remaining ancients, and Aseer found his interest piqued; could such formidable beasts still roam the lands after such a cataclysmic battle? However, rather than listening for an answer, Aseer found himself looking other the warlock; his actions in the study had most definitely put him as an enemy in many of his comrades' books, Aseer remembered Kell's hated outburst with a frown. He had no love for sorcery and magic, but at the same time he trusted the former-thief; he was well known for utilising the evil in the world for great good, Aseer would just rather it if he didn't summon beings from the infernal ether between worlds whilst they were in the same room.

Nonetheless, there was one thing from the forgotten tale that was eating at Aseer's mind; they told of a great war for control of the world, but their world was not created by this world, a key component was missing, absent. 
_"Zar'Tharon,"_ began Aseer, bowing his head in respect,_"the tales you tell are truely of epic proportions, tales of the creatioin of our world through war and conflict. However, I can't help but wonder where we come into this world: where are the humans?"_


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi soaked up the knowledge like a sponge. He felt Glacies quiver on his shoulder when Dragonsbane was mentioned, followed by a hiss of anger when the fire elementals were mentioned. She also seemed unhappy about the Celestials, the reason for which he did not need to ask. _Why so angry young one_ he thought. Glacies did not respond for a moment until _Fire is the enemy of my race and one of the few things I fear_. Extraxi sent a brief mental impulse, the psyonic equivalent of a shrug in response to that. Glacies crept a little closer to his head at the mention of the powers that led the ancients, going so far as to shudder when the daemon lord was mentioned. Extraxi’s head tilted slightly and Glacies answered the unspoken question with _Sevestra was a true horror, wrapped in shadow with claws that could pierce the toughest dragon scales._ Extraxi made no further mention of the Daemon or any of the other ancients as Zar’Tharon finished the tale.

Others began to ask questions but Extraxi kept silent, giving his mind time to digest the information and pick out the useful parts from the parts that would not influence his life. His mind focussed on the weapons most of all. A memory of their first battle together surfaced. Hadn’t Uthiat’s blade been bane to the Hydra and the scythe wielded by Avariss had certainly possessed some otherworldly powers, could they be weapons used by the Elder races to defeat the ancients.


----------



## komanko

The voice of Andaleth rang behind him, a little louder than a whisper, a little stronger in determination. It was merciless, pitiless… He knew that the warlock could not understand, nobody could… Yet he was the closest one from them all who could even grasp the basic idea of what’s going on in Avariss’s mind. 

An endless battle, a clash of wills, not a fight between good and evil, a fight between subjugation and freedom. It was a battle for the grey zone, one that would determine the fate of Avariss’s body and mind, one that if lost could also determine the fate of many others.

He listened to Andaleth’s words while he departed, they were wise yet only spoke of ignorance. Or did they? Was it him who was always blinded by a dark presence in his mind? As he walked away from the room of revelation he contemplated the words that the warlock spoke. “No need to fear… No need to worry…” He said with a sad smile while looking at Gresh’Thoth though not speaking directly to him. “My will is free, my mind is cleansed, my heart is strong.” He assured himself. “Whatever I may become, it would be of my choice… What have I already became is a different question.” He muttered in his grim brooding while walking towards the gathering place of the other apprentices.

Most of the apprentices were already there, all say down in front of the magnificent yet menacing figure which was Zar’Tharon. The dragon looked at the new apprentices which were arriving, including Avariss. As Avariss met his gaze he could see the wisdom of ages and the pain of those as well. Dragons… They were far more then the simple beast, they felt, something which many beats couldn’t, something which made the dragons more than the animal and in a way more than the humans, elves and dwarves. They were beast and man combined, a hybrid of sort.

As everyone gathered around the dragon he began to speak, Avariss did not sit down, he was too edge, too strained. He stood and leaned on a nearby wall while his dragon was still encircled around his shoulders like a scarf. 

When the dragon spoke Avariss looked at him, something changed in his posture, and his dark green eyes. Something disappeared and something new appeared as well. It seemed like the dragon was drawing out a nearly forgotten memory of his, trying to remember each detail from it.

He told them about the dawning of the “eldar” races what is now known as the elves, dwarves, and orcs. He told them about the ancients, those nearly mythical beings of terrifying power. What they were today didn’t, couldn’t, be compared to what they in the past. It was incomprehensible for one who was born in such times, only creatures of old like dragons could really know how terrible the power of the ancients races was.

Zar’tharon, the ancient dragon, told them of the first battle, of the terrible slaughter which the eldar races poured upon the ancients. These were the days when the god of death could feast unopposed. The light of thousands of lives extinguished by hate and hunger for power. Even the eldar races, who saw the humans as a lowly and foolish race succumbed to the same feelings that humans do. They gave in into hate and fear, they gave in into greed and lust. This was what really caused the war, yet only the exact opposite could’ve ended it…

Avariss listened furthermore as he heard that his theory was correct, the dragon, in a way, did confirm it. He confirmed it by telling them about the celestials, the angelic race, creatures of love and care, yet horrible and terrifying retribution, at least that was what the stories told.

As the awakened giants of the ancients rose from their slumbers and marched to rain death upon the eldar races, the celestials swooped low from their mountains, they betrayed their brethren in an act of self sacrifice and care for the eldar races. They fought their own brothers for a race which sought to destroy them.

That was true care, that was true power of will. 

The dragon continued retelling the ancient story, telling them how the celestials taught the elves the secrets of magic, how they instructed the dwarves in the creating of magnificent arms and armour, and how they trained the orcs the discipline and courage of a true army, a force to be reckoned with. They did that for the eldar races who wanted to destroy them as well originally, and they did so without hesitating. It spoke highly of the celestials, yet was it absolute? Were all the celestials caring and loving? Were some of them filled with divine wrath while others filled with an eternal rage? That question could only be answered by celestials, or by someone who witnessed them. He would ask the dragon once he was finished.

The dragon continued his story, unaware of the thoughts raging in Avariss’s head, a maelstrom of questions and an hunger for answers. His mind was free for in these sacred moments, he didn’t feel the constant scratching of the presence in his head. Was it just out of exhaustion? An idea came to mind, was it possible that the divine healing that the paladins inflicted upon him weakened the daemon and sent him back to gather his strength? He would’ve to try, he would’ve to endure the pain caused by the healing magic if he would want to drive the daemonic being back at least temporarily.

He told them of the weapons forged out of hate and misery, weapons of awesome power and colossal strength. Was Modeus really the holder of the ancient dragonslayer? Or was it simply another enchanted blade? If he did hold it that would explain how he managed to control all those dragons, not with love and care but with an ironfist and the threat of death. Was Modeus more then he would let out for everyone to see?

The story was coming to an end, its finale, the climax, was the recalling of the final battle, a catastrophic show of forces, one that wasn’t matched since then, one that could only be matched by the recreation of the ancient races. Such cataclysmic forces were not seen since then, and hopefully such would never be seen again. In that very battle the whole elemental conclave was defeated and imprisoned in the most mocking of ways, imprisoned in the weapons which slaughtered them. Not only that but Lethis, was annihilated as well and even the king of chimeras, They were all dead now, magnificent creatures of old and power. A creation of something greater than the mind of normal people. It was now all lost… All because of hate and greed, all because of lust for power…

The dragon ended his story by telling them of the weapons that are now scattered around the world, that only a few were found and many are still lost. He told them also of the departure of the celestials, a loss for the world, a sad thing.

When the dragon finished Avariss could not wait any longer and as such immediately asked after waiting about a minute or so to see if the dragon was going to speak again. “What happened to the rest of the lords of the ancients, are they still alive? What about the dark lands, did they became the dark lands because of the cataclysmic battle or was it something else? What about the other lost weapons, no expeditions have been mounted to seek them? Is there any hint to where the celestials have disappeared to and were they all caring for the eldar races or some have been more power hungry and evil in a way?” He took a breath to gain back all the air he just took out and then asked one final thing “What created the ancient races? More importantly how a vile thing like daemons could have been created?”


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat*

The mage sat quietly as the tiny gold dragon sat on his shoulder. Uthiat was unsure if Meldiriel was truly interested in the story, or if she was still looking at the massive wurm before her. The high elf himself listended attentively. Some of the tale he had heard or pieced together before, but it was quite a fine story. 

As the black dragon finished Andeleth asked the first question. It was one that burnt in Uthiat's mind as well. The small voice entered his mind. _What does this mean for us?_ The elf glanced over. "The question has been asked I believe." _So you have no questions?_ "Oh I never said that. There are many questions remaining." 

Uthiat glanced around as the others asked their questions. He looked to the warlocks, and the warriors. When Avariss had finished his questions Uthiat spoke. "I have a question. You spoke of the weapons, how were they created? What magics were bound within them to ensure their deadliness against such foes?"

_Why would you ask that?_ Meldiriel asked as Uthait finished. "If we knew what they bound within those weapons we might know better how to defeat our foes. If the weapons were forged to take advantage of some weakness, or some strength then it would be invaluable. If they could be forged once then why not again, at least in some lesser form." 

Meldiriel looked at him questioningly. _All I have heard is of the dragons destroying the land._ "Yes they are the largest concern to us now," The elf looked down to the small wurm, "If they exploit a weakness then I could guard you against it, or be prepared for it. If it enhances some strength then as partners we would share it."


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## revan4559

Everyone(Except Kell): Zar'tharon listens to each of you ask your questions and a strange snarl like smile appears on his draconic face if that is even possible, he could just be bearing his huge fangs to let you know that he will eat you if you annoy him. While each of you asked questions seperately he seems to answer as if the group has asked them so that each of you gets the answer incase you were wondering the same thing as your fellow apprentices, Zar'tharon starts with Andaleth's question. "The ancients that fled the last great battle have not been seen for over thirty-thousand years but judging by the fact they are the oldest and most powerful of each of the ancient races it is likely that they are still alive and still recovering from the battle. As for your second question Modeus does not fear their return as the elves and dwarves have become stronger since then and the human race has emerged but he is weary and will remain vigilant should they return as it would require all of the dragon-riders to push them back." 

The giant black dragons has then turns to look down upon Jerome and his little dragon. "Modeus carries Dragonsbane for he lost his old sword when we battled the ancient hydra as for some reason the venom-tongue(if the name is wrong forgive me i cant remember what i called the hydra, pm me if you know its correct name and ill edit) was guarding the weapon. Other than using it as a replacement for his old weapon it seems fitting that the Lord of Dragons should wield the weapon meant to destroy them should they get out of control." Turning his attention to Aseer the dragon tilts his head slightly to one side as he ponders the human's question. "Your race is very young and most of the ancient and eldar races never really paid attention to how, where and why you came into this world. So for now the answers you seek are hidden away in myths and legands of your own people and until the elves check their own records then your question shall go unanswered for now."

Zar'tharon then lets out a rather loud yawn before turning to look at Avariss. "I belive I have already answered your first question Warlock. As for teh dark lands, yes rumor has it they became the dark lands after the battle because of the amount of daemon blood split and dark magic used there, Expeditions have been made to search for the other missing ancient weapons but so far none of them have been found within the last ten thousand years. As for the celestials we will never know why they joined the war on the elder races side unless we ask them but we do not know which mountains they reside on as they live higher than most dragons dare go. As for the daemons no-one knows how or why they came into being they just already have, only the truely ancient ones of our races would have the slighest idea but the ancients have long sinced disappeared."

Finally the black wyrm looks down at Uthait and blinks several times before pondering on an answer, after several minutes he finally answers. "The weapons of ancient power were created long before even the oldest elf was born and most of the dragon race no longer remember how they were forged. We have however as a species come to the conclusion that ALL of the weapons were forged with dragon-fire to imbue them with powerful magic but how the elves and dwarves forged them with the help of the Celestials is unknown. As for the magics used we do not know the answer either, only that back then the winds of magic flowed stronger back then and have only just started to blow strong once again which could explain why all of the dragons have started to wake up. Personally I believe that war is coming to the lands once again and will be like that of the war of the ancients but that is my own opinion so do not think on it." The black drake then looks around at you and the rest of the group. "Have my answers been satisfactory little-ones? Do you have yet more questions to ask on perhaps the subject of dragons or either other ancient races?"

(Do you have any other questions for the great dragon? Feel free to ask what you like and ill do my best to answer them as i add more to the fluff. What do you think about the answers the dragon has given? Do you wish to leave the lesson and go relax or perhaps ask if there is more training to be done today? What you do now is pretty mich up to you.)

Kell: OOC: Need you to post for the previous update.


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## Midge913

Analeth listened as Zar'tharon answered his question, _"The ancients that fled the last great battle have not been seen for over thirty-thousand years but judging by the fact they are the oldest and most powerful of each of the ancient races it is likely that they are still alive and still recovering from the battle. As for your second question Modeus does not fear their return as the elves and dwarves have become stronger since then and the human race has emerged but he is weary and will remain vigilant should they return as it would require all of the dragon-riders to push them back."_

That thought disturbed him, that it would take all of the dragon-riders to push back the ancients, though he took comfort in the other points that the great dragon made. It was true that the elder races had grown in the milennia since the war with the Ancients, and that the human race, while young by comparison, had the great potential for stubborn violence. Shaking his head, he struggled to file away all the knowledge that he was aquiring so quickly. He had always learned what he needed to survive, and this grand history and the complications of his fel magic and the tasks Modeus had set before him were all so huge and daunting when compared to his simple life as a thief. With a chuckle he remembered that back then he always wished his life could have been simpler, little did he know how good he had it. He did not balk from the challenge that his apprenticeship with the Dragon Lord had offered and would continue to offer, but the scale of it sometimes dwarfed him. 

_"Zar'tharon,"_ Andaleth asked after the great drake had finished answering the other apprentices questions_," As we entered these upper halls, I noticed that the architecture was substantially different from the Dwarven halls below. Who built this place, and for what purpose?"_

He waited for the Dragon to answer and as he did he wondered if he should go speak to the other apprentices about what had happened in Modeus' study. Surely not all of them would condemn him, though by the way Kell was acting he didn't think that he should expect much. Lost in his own thoughts, Andaleth waited for Zar'tharon to continue the lesson.


----------



## Rems

After the long history lesson Jerome felt a desire to be active. "Zar'tharon, shall there be any practical training today?" he asked hopeful. 

Fighting on the back of a dragon was something the young nobleman was greatly looking forward too. He imagined it would be much like fighting from a destirer with a lance, though this mount could fly. _"And is a great deal more intelligent"_ sent Oberon, piqued.

_"Oh I don't know" _sent back Jerome, _"you seem to have the same fondness for sugar lumps"_. By the sudden since from Oberon he was sure the little drakeling would be blushing if he could. Scratching behind the wyrmling's small horns he received gentle vibration in return; all was forgiven. 

"If there shall be no more training for the day" Jerome continued to the group, "anyone fancy a sparring session?".


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## Midge913

"If there is no more training for the day," the haughty noble Jerome said to the group, _"anyone fancy a sparring session?"_

_"Take him up on the offer Andaleth," _Sirrush whispered in his year. Andaleth was appaled at the drake's suggestion and over the mental link he said,_ "Sirrush, Jerome would surely best me in a straight fight, there would be little point in the exercise without further training from Modeus with a blade. No, I think not my little friend."_

_"Your perserverance and dedication to a cause it what you need to show him human,"_ Sirrush continued, _"I know that you can take a beating, I have seen it in you that it has happened before."_

_"Yes, little one.... more than once," _Andaleth replied, _"Though I do not wish to repeat the experience."_

_"You desire acceptance but are completely unwilling to do anything to earn it,"_ Sirrush said his voice suddenly hard,_"Accept his challenge, show him your strenght of will my friend. He won't accept you as his closest friend, but he will give you a modicum of grudging respect."_

Andaleth was unsure, but he knew that Sirrush held a wisdom well beyond his years. Unfortunately, so often the loaner, Andaleth was uncomfortable with normal everyday interactions. The feast was one thing, everyone content, liquor flowing freely, but here in the light of sober day, his old trepidation returned. Sirrush seemed to understand human interactions better than he did. 

_"Sir Jerome,"_ Begrudgingly using the mans preferred title, though he let none of his true feelings tinge the tone of his voice,_"I would enjoy a spar, perhaps you can even teach me a thing or two."_


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## Santaire

Extraxi raised an eyebrow when Andaleth accepted the sparring session. He smiled and said afterwards. "Ser Jerome; I may be an archer but the importance of the blade is not lost on me, I would enjoy a sparring session once this is finished," he was careful to use the human's title so as not to provoke any further violence though he hoped that in time an understanding could be reached between the apprentices. He had never had much fondness for nobles, believing them all arrogant swine and despite his finer qualities Extraxi had to admit that Jerome fit the bill almost perfectly. _Why so cynical elf_ came an amused message from Glacies. _A life of privelige never did suit me and those who revel in it disgust me_ he sent in reply. A sound faintly reminiscent of laughter came from the young dragon but she spoke no more and so Extraxi returned his attention to Jerome.


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## Yru0

The Dragon's answer perplexed him, how could the tales of ancients be so well documented from so long ago, and yet nigh on nothing be known about the history of his own people, that is so relatively recent? Were they not of enough importance for the elder races to even take note? Then again if there was another, younger race evolving even now, would they take notice? Aseer shook his head of the thoughts, they were none of his business anyway. It was then that Jerome offered the challenge of a spar against any apprentices willing to take up a weapon against the trained swordsman.

A sly smirk slowly emerged onto the archer's face as Andaleth and then Extraxi accepted the invitation; a trained noble knight against a powerful warlock and a silent ranger: in a spar cage? This would undoubtedly be a tale spoken of for ages, that is if there was anyone watching it that would be able to spread word of it. Aseer felt pity for the two challengers, true he had only heard rumours of the noble's skills, but that in itself was something; every noble took part in these tournaments, to have one become known on the other side of the lands, if only in the banquets of the aristocracy or the taverns of the workers. Aseer couldn't help but laugh, it was a good feeling following the recent events, "I say Ser Jerome, I may not be much of a swordsman myself, but only a fool would pass up an oppurtunity to see the Swordsman of Savoi, although I wonder if an archer and a warlock are enough of a challenge?" Aseer turned to his good friend, an idea forming in his mind, "What say you Morrak? Perhaps its time to pit the skills of a noble's son against that of a dwarf forged in the mountains themselves?" 
_Aseer, what on earth are you doing?_ Seraphim was taken aback by the sudden gleam in the archer's eye. _Just having some fun, is that too much to ask?_ Seraphim rolled her eyes and Aseer winked at the little drake. He had the sudden impression that he was about to do something incredibly stupid.
"Sod all! Let no one say that a Son of Baron Solvade didn't accept a challenge, where's the spar cage?"


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## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat listened attentively as the dragon spoke. He listened to the answers for the others and to the answer for the mage's question. It all seemed to point to the same conclusion, a war was coming.

"Does Modeus have a workshop and a study? It would seem that he has an array of magical objects within these walls. Surely he had at least part of them created here. Would there be individuals here as well, more specialized in dealing with the different forces that would appear to be arrayed against us?"

Several of the others had already seemed to have found their own entertainment. Uthiat sighed quietly. Over the past day he had found himself almost worthless against their foes. The giant and hydra were almost immune to spells. Dragons of course shared that same immunity. As it would appear the daemons were resistant as well. Perhaps it was time for him to learn the sword.

_Is something wrong?_ the small dragonling asked. "Oh nothing," the mage replied quickly refocusing himself. What good could he ever do with a sword anyway? 
_So do you plan to speak to more individuals?_ Uthiat glanced over, "Yes if it would benefit our endeavors." The small dragon cocked its head. "Don't worry they should have something else that I would require for you as well." 
Meldiriel perked up slightly. "You still wish to learn the art of magic correct?" _Yes_, the small golden dragon replied as soon as the words were spoken.
"Very well," Uthiat said, "We will have that begin as soon as possible, but first we need to finish here."


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## Rems

Jerome grinned like a Cheshire cat as other apprentices took up his offer. More pleasingly was their use of his title; it seemed they might be learning some respect after all. Andeleth’s response was most curious. Jerome first instinct was to refuse the warlock, but the scornful words died on his lips as he thought more of it. It seemed like Modeus would not punishing the dangerous youth for his flagrant use of fel magic, actions which nearly spelled catastrophe. If the dragon lord could not deliver just punishment perhaps Jerome could do it himself. It was odd though, he had been assessing his fellows since meeting them and could tell that Andaleth would be no great challenge. The warlock’s posture, his stance and movements all told Jerome that Andaleth was no great fighter. Deadly to some back alley thugs perhaps but no match for a trained warrior. Why then would he accept the young noble’s offer, was he vainly trying to prove something? He would be sorely mistaken then as Jerome intended to pound the dangerous malcontent to paste. 

The other two, Aseer and that haughty elf Extraxi held more promise. The southron looked like he at least knew his way around a blade but his fingers and unbalanced right side told Jerome he was an archer with a preference for ranged combat. No great danger there then. The elf though was a different story. Jerome did not doubt his own abilities in the slightest but had never faced one of their kind. He had the look of a hard weathered woodsmen about him, likely some kind of hunter and thus also preferring ranged combat. 

“Very well then friends, we have a grand melee on our hands. Andeleth responded first so it’s only fair we spar first yes?” Nodding to the rest of the apprentices and the great drake he bid them goodbye for the day, beckoning Andeleth, Aseer and Extraxi to follow on. Leaving the open air hall they were in he accosted a dwarven inhabitant of the hold to guide them to the armoury while pressing another into service to fetch his armour. The dwarves’ protests that he was no errand boy went unheeded as Jerome just looked at him expectantly, centuries of breeding and inherent arrogance and command over the lower born doing its work. 

Reaching one of the holds armouries with an attendant training area Jerome readied himself for the coming sparring. The duel would be in full armour, as though combat conditions and with real weapons; though with a dull edge. After sometime Jerome stood attired in his full plate armour. Clad head to toe in shining steel he cut a gallant figure, certainly compared to the leather clad forms of the other apprentices. He would have a decided advantage. 

“Are you ready then Andeleth?” he called nonchalantly to the young warlock, swinging his sword and loosening his arms. The other man looked hesitant before glancing at his dragon and setting his jaw. Stepping forward, short blade in hand the black clad ex-thief nodded to Jerome. The knight slipped his shield over his left arm and saluted his doomed opponent. Beneath his helm the nobleman grinned, enlivened at the prospect of some activity and the beating he would give this cretin. He wagered his wiry opponent would give up quickly. The two figures began to slowly circle one another over the padded floor of the training hall, their dragons ensconced at a nearby bench, sitting close together despite their rider’s apparent enmities. 

Circling around one another Jerome suddenly broke their circuit. Stepping forward he launched a probing attack with his longsword, four feet of steel darting out. Andeleth stepped back, keeping out of reach. He could do nothing to counter however, his own blade significantly shorter. Pressing forward Jerome attempted a feint before suddenly reversing the direction of his blade. Much to his disgust what was supposed to be a mere probe nearly succeeded; it was a novice move, one which any competent swordsman should know. That Andelth did not spoke volumes of his lack of professional training. Already it seemed Andaleth was comprehensively outmatched. His next few strikes Andeleth did manage to parry however, using his shortsword and dagger in concert. Not entirely useless then Jerome thought. Feeling he had gained the measure of his opponent now Jerome stepped up again, increasing the tempo of his attacks. Shifting his weight suddenly he aimed to body check Andeleth with his shield. Succeeding he tripped the warlock, his sword tripping the warlock’s legs up while his shield applied the pressure. 

Falling flat on his rump, cheeks flushed with embarrassment Andelth quickly regained his feet in time to meet another blistering attack of Jerome’s. Launching a dizzying array of strikes Jerome caught his opponent with a feint again delivering a punishing blow to his ribs. Gasping Andeleth doubled up slightly and was then bowled over again as the knight’s shield struck him under his chin, splitting the skin and jarring his jaw. Taking to his feet again the apprentice settled into a guard position before quickly having his sword knocked from his grasp and another punished body blow delivered. 

Rolling his eyes Jerome cast aside his shield, taking his sword in both hands. He would not need the extra protection afforded by it. Slamming into his opponent with a armoured shoulder he knocked him to the ground yet again. Still the warlock got up. Jerome’s blood was up now and he was rather enjoying himself. Feeling flashy he began an elaborate series of moves, spinning about and launching sweeping strikes that flowed into one another. Andaleth was helpless before the assault, lacking the reach or skill to stop them. Any pretence of sparring had gone from the spectacle, this was purely a beating now. 

Again the longsword smashed into Andaleth’s body, the leather armour doing little to numb the jarring impact. He was sure if this kept up much longer his ribs would fracture, he could already feel the heavy bruises. Still though he did not quit, and got to his feet again only to have his sword knocked from his grip as Jerome’s blade smashed into the young warlock’s wrist. Gasping in pain Andaleth took his sword up in his other hand, refusing to quit. 

Jerome was irritated now, this farce had gone beyond sport. Attacking again he knocked his foe down again, delivering another punishing blow. “Stay down damn you” he snarled as the sprawled figure rose from the practise mat again. 

“No” came the unsteady, whispered reply. Incensed, Jerome distained the use of his sword altogether, delivering a viscous uppercut to the swaying warlock, splitting his lip and staining his gauntlet with blood. There’s first blood the Knight thought, turning his back. He spun about again however as he heard Andaleth’s raspy breathing and the sounds of his battered body picking itself up. The warlock’s eyes gleamed orange, hinting at some well of magical power. Quickly however the glow faded as the warlock’s face twisted into and rictus and then Andaleth stiffly regained to his feet. Incredulously Jerome realised that Andaleth was not going to stay down, he would not give up. “Done already?” breathed Andaleth, spitting blood. “I could do this all day.”

Strong words indeed but he looked ready to drop, swaying on his feet. It seemed only force of will kept the apprentice standing. A sense of grudging respect crept through Jerome at this display of defiance. Andaleth may be a dangerous warlock but he was at least a stubborn bastard with immense willpower and Jerome could respect that. What’s more the warlock had never tried to use his powers to even the playing field. That was surprising to the knight. He would have thought the warlock only too eager to succumb to the use of his dark arts. Perhaps he had misjudged the man?
Pulling his helm from his head, his hair slicked to his forehead the nobleman shook his head, setting aside his sword. Continuing this farce of a sparring session would only put the warlock in the surgeon’s tent and as much as Jerome still didn’t like the man and was wary of his powers he could at least respect his bravery. Besides he had no wish to incur Modeus wrath by permanently damaging a fellow apprentice. 

Holding out a mailed hand to Andelth, Jerome helped him to a bench. “I won’t lie and say you fought well, you damned menace” he said, a slight smile and light tone an undercurrent to the harsh words, “but your footwork did show some promise. I’d wager you were on the shadier side of the law, but a warrior can be made of you yet”. Andeleth could only wearily half-smile through bloodied teeth as he gratefully collapsed onto the cool wooden bench, his dragon, Sirrush, clambering over to him. 
“So then” Jerome called, hands resting lightly on his hips, 

“Who’s next?”


----------



## Midge913

Andaleth heard several of the other apprentices accept Jerome's offer for a spar, but chills rolled up and down his spine as the nobleman grinned at him, eyes locked on Andelth's. The noble's expression one of anticipation and unmasked disgust for what he was. Andaleth saw Jerome's eye flick over him,
resting quickly on the hilt of the short sword poking out above his right shoulder, and the hilt of his large dagger just visible behind his left hip. The noble unconciously touched the hilt of his formidable long sword, his smile deepening. His eyes flicked to Aseer and Etraxi before coming back to 
andaleth's face.

_“Very well then friends, we have a grand melee on our hands. Andeleth responded first so it’s only fair we spar first yes?”._ Andaleth nodded his head in agreement, made a swift bow to Zar'Tharon, and followed the group from the cave. 

As he followed Jerome through the hallways of the keep, he couldn't help but question his sanity at this decision. He had been convinced by Sirrush's argument, but now that his feet were on the path he felt less certain. Calming himself, he focused on his breathing, unconciously its rythm falling into synch with Sirrush's. He could feel the warmth of his friend's presence, and it was calming. He listened as Jerome ordered the dwarves of the keep about, treating them like his own personal servants, and Andaleth couldn't help but shake his head at the young noble's audacity. He even sent one surly specimen to fetch his armor, and once again the thought of facing the fully armed and armored warrior curdled his stomach. 

They soon reached the armories and as Jerome donned his armor, Andaleth drew his dagger, expertly flicking it across his fingers, and drew his short sword, twirling it in an uncertain manner. He carried the more cumbersome weapon more for show, than because he had the skill to use it. Blocking the clumsy strikes of the city guardsmen was one thing, facing an experienced, trained swordsman was something else entirely. He was fast, his fingers nimble, but in the training ring there would be nowhere to hide, no way to take his opponent by surprise. Sirrush jumped down from his shoulder and scampered over to the side of the training mat, settling down to watch the match. "Courage Andaleth," he said across the link, "He may have bravado, but you have true strength of will." 

_“Are you ready then Andeleth?”_ Jerome called nonchalantly and Andaleth turned his gaze to his opponent. Jerome was an impressive figure fully armed for combat, but his disgust for Andaleth's very being evident on his smiling face. Andaleth once more looked to Sirrush and Jerome's drake, Oberon, settled next to him, Sirrush's white scales contrasting Oberon's bronze, Their rider's feelings for one another seemingly not imposing on the two drakes interactions. He saw Sirrush imperceptibly nod, and turning his gaze back to his opponent, squared his shoulders, and felt the calm certainty he always felt when he had chosen a course of action fall over him. He would not turn from this path. 

His face impassive as Jerome swung his sword in a few experimental swings, loosening his arms and shoulders for the coming fight, sheer stubborness causing Andaleth's jaw to clentch. Jerome slipped his shield over his left arm, raised his sword in a salute, and slowly began to circle the edge of the mat, Andaleth mimicing his movements.
_
"Oberon,"_ Sirrush said to his companion, watching the two humans circling each other, _ "Why is it that Jerome feels such contempt for Andaleth? Surely he has done nothing to the young noble that warrants such treatment?"_

Oberon lifted a scaled eyebrow, _"I should think that it was obvious. He thinks him irresponsible and irreverent. Using powers best left untouched, and causing havok that is unneeded."_

Sirrush nodded, _"Understandable, but Andaleth is much more than the powers he wields, Jerome would be wise to not underestimate him."_

_"We shall see," _Oberon said narrowing his eyes at the warlock now pacing in front of him, _"Division must be eliminated for us to prosper. Though I don't think that the humans see things the same way." _A touch of indignation coloring his voice as he watched Jerome and Andaleth, clear dislike on each man's face. 

Andaleth watched his opponent, he saw Jerome's weight shift and the swordsman lunge forwards, his longsword searching. Andaleth jumped back, keeping out of reach of the longer weapon, but as he set his feet Jerome was already reversing direction, and Andaleth was just barely able to keep the man's bladefrom his reaching him by clumsily blocking the strike with his shortsword. This was no back alley fist fight and Andaleth felt like a child at the mercy of the well trained warrior. Trying to keep his distance, Andaleth moved to his right, but Jerome suddenly shifted his weight in the same direction, his shield pressing firmly against Andaleth's chest. Before Andaleth could react, Jerome's sword flashed out and clipped him on the side of the ankle, overbalanced the pressure of Jerome's shield knocking him squarely on his ass. 

Standing quickly, face red with embarassment, he got his feet under him just to be met with another flurry of attacks from the more experienced swordsman. Andaleth was able to deflect one strike with a hasty parry with his dagger, but that only gave Jerome the opening to lash his sword against his ribs. Andaleth tried to gasp in pain, but the blow had stolen his breath, forcing him to double over. He saw a flash of metal and stars errupted across his vision as Jerome's shield connected with the bottom of his chin. On his hands and knees, trying to clear his vision, he felt the blood streaking down his chin. Spitting out some blood, obviously the blow had caused him to bite his tounge, he pushed himself back to his feet, and once more raised his blades. But it was to know avail, once more the longsword flashed out, the flat of the blade striking him on the back of the wrist, his short sword dropping from his numb grasp. While he was distracted, Jerome crashed into him once more with his shield, sending him sprawling to his back once more, gasping for breath. 

Andaleth needed no encouragement from Sirrush, he could feel Jerome's spite for his skills from where he lay, and once more he pushed himself back to his feet. Scorn radiated from Jerome's body as he cast aside his shield, taking his longsword in both hands, the man rushed forward before Andaleth could set his feet. He felt Jerome's armored shoulder crash into him, and in a tangle of limbs he went down the mat once more. Taking a deep breath, Andaleth got 
his arms under him and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Looking up, gaze fixed on Jerome's helm, he unsteadily regained his footing, took a few lurching steps back toward the center of the mat, and raised his weapons once more. 

He was met with a flurry of strikes, each faster than he could block, and he felt the sting of the blade as it struck his legs, arms, and sides. The blows reigned down, his feeble parries only making things worse as the flat of Jerome' blade struck his fingers and wrists. Still he refused to cry out, he would not give his opponent the satisfaction. He felt the welts and bruises forming all over his body, his leather armor scant protection against the strength of Jerome's blows. 

Finally Jerome found another opening and sent a punishing blow to Andaleth's ribs, the impact jarring him to his spine, it stole his breath and once more caused him to double up, trying to catch a breath. Jerome did not let up and once more his sword struck out at slammed into Andaleth's wrist, his short sword falling to the mat with a clatter. With a grunt of pain and effort, Andaleth bent down, picked the sword up with numb fingers, and took a defensive stance. His eyes locking on the eyeslits of Jerome's helm defiance evident in their flashing gaze and set of his snarling lips. 

Andaleth could tell by Jerome's stance that he was beginning to get irritated. What he had thought would be a quick fight had turned into something more. Andaleth's defiance robbing him of the easy victory he had anticipated. Jerome aimed a downward blow, aimed at Andaleth's shoulder, and before he could see that it was just a distraction, Andaleth caught the blow in between his dagger and shortsword. This of course left his bruised sides open and Jerome took the opening to smash his armored elbow into Andaleth's side. Once more Andaleth went down to the mat, his breathing shallow and sharp, he may have cracked a rib, at the least they were bruised. 

_“Stay down damn you,"_ Jerome snarled as once more, spitting blood to the mat, Andaleth rose to his feet. Locking gazes with his foe, Andaleth whispered,_ "no."_ His response was quiet, mumbled, and wet sounding, escaping around his swollen lips.

Andaleth could see that Jerom was now incensed and the man forsook the use of his sword and delivered a vicious upcut, that caught Andaleth right across the mout, splitting his lips even further, blood flowing free down his chin onto his chest. Andaleth must have blacked out on the way down, because the next thing he knew he was staring at the mat beneath his nose, and heard Jerome's heavy breathing behind him, his footsteps heading away from the downed warlock. He coughed, clearing the blood he had inhaled from his lungs, and with a grunt of effort, pushed himself once more to his knees, when he felt it. The well of fel power, the one he drew on to use his abilities flaring to life as his rage, and fear, and pain fueled his desire to win, to crush the arrogant warrior before him. He saw the flash of orange light flare from his eyes, illuminating his knees and the mat. "NO!" He screamed at himself in his mind,"I am more than this power. I will not prove them right, I will not allow this force to rule me, to make me something I am not." Breathing heavily, pain flaring in his brusied ribs, he slowly took hold of the power surging through him, and through force of will forced it to receed down into the well of energy from which it came. He mastered it as a skilled horseman breaks a willful stallion. In control, of his mind, power, and body, he slowly stood and looked up at the man across from him. 

The world seemed to spin, but he could see the incredulous expression on Jerome's face.

_"Done already," _Andaleth chided, blood dribbling down his chin, muffling and slurring his words,_"I could do this all day."_

Jerome pulled his helm from his head, his hair slicked with sweat, plastered down by the pressure of the heavy armor. Andaleth could see a small change in the man's eyes, Hatred and righteous wrath replaced by a quiet smile and gruding respect. He could see in the man's expression that it would take much to bridge the divide between the two of them, but for the moment, it seemed an uneasy truce had been reached. An understanding passed between them. He could also see that this fight was over, and he had accomplished what he had intended. With that he fell to his knees, no longer able to stand with the world bucking around him.

Jerome held out his hand to Andaleth, and Andaleth gladly took it, making no pretense that without the man's help he would never have made it to the bench besdie the practice mat. Jerome looked at him, wariness still there, but anger long gone and said,_ “I won’t lie and say you fought well, you damned menace”_ he said, a slight smile and light tone an undercurrent to the harsh words,_ “but your footwork did show some promise. I’d wager you were on the shadier side of the law, but a warrior can be made of you yet”._ Andeleth smiled as much as he could through split lips, and collapsed to his side, face pressed against the cool surface of the bench. Sirrush was by his side a second later, his presence a warming comfort. No words passed between them, but Andaleth could feel the drake's fierce pride radiating out from his glowing scales. Perhaps he would find his place here after all.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell raced down the corridor, desiring nothing but to put distance between Modeus, the warlocks and himself. He cared not for where he was going, just that it was not there. He heard footsteps approaching him hurriedly from behind and instinctively placed his hand on the pistol at his thigh. He turned to see it was Aseer now walking alongside him. He thanked Kell for his support and shared his anger over the current situation. He also expressed that he would not miss out on a lesson because of the others, but offered him some company should he desire it. 

“No” Kell snapped “I need to clear my head”

And with that increased his stride leaving Aseer behind, only when out of sight did he finally release his grip on the pistol.

He carried on storming down hall after hall, corridor by corridor, aimlessly, not entirely sure where he was heading. Typhon remained strangely quiet and unmoving throughout, perhaps sensing that Kells choler was not to be provoked at this time. Suddenly though Typhon leapt from his shoulders and darted off into the shadows, somehow disappearing entirely as he did so.

“Fine” Kell muttered “I didn’t need your company anyway”

He continued to wander the Holds many twisting halls and corridors, climbing up and down several levels as he went. Thought in all his wandering, he never saw one of the Holds dwarven guards. Far from calming him down, his mood just became fouler, now all he wanted was a fight, an outlet for his rage. Luckily for him, not quite so lucky for another he emerged into a hall to find a potential outlet.

“How about me” he said menacingly in answer to Jermoes question.


----------



## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

The Dragons answers to their questions were ambiguous at best. So, that gave Morrak and Valerian plenty of time to think. Morrak simply though about how much he wanted to leave, to go kill something with Aseer. Valerian, on the other hand, had a very interesting thought process. Memories of other lives flashed before him, from the beginning of time to the death of the dragons. First he saw the creation of Dragons from their great and terrible forefather. He saw the history of Dragons unfold before him, seeing their war against the Naga, the uneasy peace, and then the war with the “younglings”, as he remembered calling them. He saw dragons and elves and men and all types of creatures fall by the score, and the Ancients be driven back by the younger races. He saw the dread lord of the Dragons arise with the others and destroy the younglings. He saw their fear and relished it, hating himself instantly afterwards. He had a strange desire to fly, and decided to try. He flapped his wings as hard as he could, but he got only a couple inches off the ground. He then tried fire, but that didn’t work at all. All he did was get spit on the seat next to him.

*“What are ye doing?”* asked Morrak. _“Oh… nothing. It was stupid”._* “It can’t be, yer a dragon. Dragons aren’t stupid”.*_ “Well… I was trying to fly. And breathe fire”._* “That’s not stupid. Id fly if I could… If I had wings I’d probably jump out a window to try to fly. At least ye weren’t stupid about it”.* They both laughed softly, their happiness broken quite abruptly by “Ser” Jerome. “If there is no more training for today, would anyone fancy a sparring session?” _“You should do it Morrak”._ *“Of course I will. It should be interesting practice”.* _“You should take this seriously though Morrak. He is a trained fighter”._ *“I know… that will make things more interesting”.*

Before Morrak could say anything many of the other apprentices answered. First was Andaleth, which surprised everyone, most likely including Andaleth himself. Then came Extraxi and Aseer. “Aye Aseer, count me in. Ser Jerome may be noble but he’s never tasted the sting of fire as I have. I was forged in pain, and so I will help him be forging him anew”.

“Very well then friends, we have a grand melee on our hands. Andeleth responded first so it’s only fair we spar first yes?” Everyone nodded quietly in agreement, and the two stepped into the ring. It became immediately clear that there was an immense gap between their skill levels, Andaleth being trained only to fight in the shadows. _“This isn’t going to be a fight… It will be a massacre”._* “Aye Valerian, I think yer right. I’ll just have to even up the pain later”.* Andaleth fell repeatedly, each time more blood being drawn from his body. But still he would not give up. *“He may not have skill… but by the gods he has determination”.*

“I won’t lie and say you fought well, you damned menace” Jerome said, a slight smile and light tone an undercurrent to the harsh words, “but your footwork did show some promise. I’d wager you were on the shadier side of the law, but a warrior can be made of you yet”. Morrak breathed a smile or relief that Andaleth was ok and there would be no further divison.

*“I call next”.*


----------



## Santaire

Extraxi spun, whipcord fast, at the sound of Kell's voice. The warrior stood tall and brooding with an expression like a thunderstorm. Extraxi had seen anger before but this was something more. Hate and fury mixed together with memories of the stories of warlocks used to frighten children. Extraxi shifted imperceptibly; stepping slightly in front of Andaleth and his hand rose slightly, almost to the level of his bow stave. No matter what had happened he had not travelled this far to see others die, people who might become his friends or at the very least his comrades.

No matter how skilled he was Jerome fought with honour unless anger blotted it out. Currently it looked as if Kell would not be above drawing his pistol and shooting the knight when the fight turned savage. He nuged Jerome slightly and whispered "I do not doubt your skills Ser Jerome but I would be careful when facing Kell, he looks like he is ready to murder and what better excuse than a duel gone wrong." He stepped back although stayed close enough to intervene if something went wrong.


----------



## komanko

OOC: Not much for me to post about.

He looked at the others as they asked the mighty dragon their questions, he listened carefully, noting what interested each and every one of them, it would, in a way, speak of his character and as he did not know any of them really well he decided to try and understand them from this point.

He looked at the dragon after all the questions were asked, it seemed like the same questions have been asked countless of times, and the answers themselves were passionless and unmotivated. It seemed like the dragon was reciting some sort of text instead of answering questions presented to him. The only question which seemed to arouse his interest was when Uthiat spoke and even then, the surprise and confusion on the dragon showed for only a moment and then quickly disappeared under the same emotionless mask.

He pondered the answer of the dragon, was it really possible that the Celestials were not seen since that Ancient war, it was surprising, and in a way scary. It was all too possible that they were actually all extinct and with them all the knowledge and wisdom they carried. If no dragon dared to investigate then it would take a dark elf to find them, a dark elf and two dragons, Gresh and Thoth will help him. As if to bolster his confidence Gresh nibbled his ear and then rested his head back on the burned shoulder.

Yet that was not all the dragon answered, his answer about the daemons sent shivers down Avariss’s spine. Were they that ancient that no one knew where they came from? How was it possible that nobody had even the slightest idea of where they came from? It was scary in a way, it meant these very daemons were more ancient than the oldest dragon. 

Avariss brushed some of his hair back from his face. It smelt of fire and still had the stench of burning hair coming from it. Foul stench, he would take care of it later. 

His ears flickered as he caught the sound of the knight Jerome, he was asking if anyone wanted to spar with him. Someone would surely agree to his offer yet when Andaleth was the first to offer himself as a challenger Avariss was surprised. It was obvious that the human was far from a fighter, even though Avariss did not excel at the art of the sword he did learn it. He even had a personal trainer though he was never strong enough physically to successfully defeat his opponents. Still, from what he learned he could see that Andaleth was no better, the way he walked spoke of insecurity, a death sentence for a warrior, as a warrior always had to know that he is stepping into a real fight that could end in death. His pace, it resembled the walk of a panther more than the one of a warrior.

Soon others offered to spar with Jerome as well and after they left Avariss followed, he would watch them. Even he felt like fighting he was in no condition to fight, not with all those burns and Voice repeatedly smashing against his mind’s wall. He could not risk being hot headed, it might mean the death of his opponent and the death of his soul. No… He would watch.

Stretching out Avariss followed after they left, bowing in front of the ancient drake and thanking him for sharing his wisdom. It seemed that some of the others forgot that such knowledge was not to be taken for granted. After thanking the dragon he waved once with his hand and went after the others bent on watching Andaleth humiliating himself.

He sat on a stone bench and looked at the slaughter, it was a one sided battle as he predicted, yet Andaleth was persistent, he didn’t want to back down. Avariss knew what he was doing, at some point the same idea passed through his mind. He wanted to earn their respect, to show them that he is not as corrupt as they think. This idea was quickly erased from his mind when he saw how backwards and idiotic the thoughts of his fellow apprentices were. He decided that they were not worth it, in time they will grow to trust and respect him, out of fear or out of true comradeship, it did not matter. Sooner or later he will prove himself.

He stayed on the same stone bench, his eyes following the quick thrusts of Jerome’s sword, his eyes darted from one face to another, judging them both, seeing that they were waging a battle with themselves as much as they were waging it against each other.


----------



## revan4559

Everyone: You all head towards the sparring room located not too far away from the room you were currently stood in and to much of your surprise the great dragon Zar'tharon followers you as the ground shakes with each massive step he takes which may make some of you lose balance when walking there. Upon your arrival at the sparring cages you can see other apprentices sparring with each other along with their dragons which are alot larger than your own but still tiny compared to Modeus's circling and hissing at each other as they swipe at each other with claws and tails obviously sparring themselves. Those of you that spar with each other will spend the next half an hour trying to best your opponent and work out how exactly they prefer to fight so you can gain the upper hand, and those of you that have already sparred with your fellow apprentices retire to one of the benches to rest and regain your strength but when Kell returns to accept Jeromes offer something strange happens. The large drake Zar'tharon makes his way other to Kell and cranes his huge head and neck down to bite ahold of the back of Kell's shift and lifts him into the air before stomping off out of the room, you breifly heard the dragon say something about "Modeus wishes to see you little one."

As the rest of you finish your spars and start to form up your little group again another group of apprentices equaling your number with their own dragons makes their way over to you and size you up before a rather tall looking human with shoulder length dark brown hair and slate-grey eyes steps forward and crosses his arms. "So your the latest group of recruits then are you? Well you don't look like an impressive lot and your dragons are tiny, HA! By the time your dragons get to the size of ours we will already be in the ranks of fully fledged dragon riders. So while are don't have many responsablilties at the moment how about we have a little test? Each one of us will spar with one of you in a manner of your choosing, by the looks of it, three of you can use magic which is perfect as three in our group can aswell! So how about it your group fights against yours and the loser has to scrub the great hall clean for the next week? Are you all man enough to take up our offer or are you not even worthy of becoming dragon riders?"

How do you all react to the leader of this group of apprentices challenge and insults? Do you instantly except the challenge even with the having to clean the great hall if you lose? Do you politely decline the offer to spar against some of the older apprentices in favour or remaining with your group and getting to know each other better? What do you want to do? 

Note: If you wish to know what kind of opponents you will be fighting then ill let you know should you decide to spar against them, so don't pick your own opponents ill sort it out next update.

Kell: Just as you accept Jerome's challenge you see the dragon Zar'tharon lean down and open his large gaping maw and before you can react he closes it about the back of your shirt and lifts you effortlessly off the ground in the same manner of a cat lifting its young from the ground and carrying it, and while you are lifted from the group you hear the dragons booming voice echo in your head. "The Dragon Lord wishes to see you Sir Kell, so try not to resist me. He wishes to speak with you about something very important." and with that the dragon turns and stomps off to meet the dragon lord with you dangling from his jaws, with each step you sway in the air and look down to see that you are very high up and should your shirt tear and you fall it could severly damage you. While you are carried about like a child do you inquire into the nature of why the High Lord wishes to see you or simply rage at the way the dragon is treating you? What does annoy you is a laughter echoing in your mind that clearly belongs to Typhon. After about ten minutes Zar'tharon finally exits the inside of the mountain and walks out onto a large balcony where the High Lord is sat reading a book and drinking wine, carefully Zar'tharon lowers you down into the chair opposite Modeus and takes his place behind the dragon lord. Looking up Modeus smiles and offers you a goblet of elven wine before clearly stating. "Kell, we have something very important to talk about, you and I."

Note for AoB: ill be pm'ing you what Modeus will be talking to you about and it is to strictly stay between me and you for now. Though do react to what the dragon lord says in the pm in your post just dont give away what we talk about. Expect the pm within 1-2 days.


----------



## G0arr

*Uthiat Alenaneldth*

Uthiat followed. It seemed that the others wished to spar. While the bouts in the cages were entertaining the mage quickly found himself acting on more pressing matters. A keen eye glanced around the room. As Zar’tharon appeared to have left, taking the human Kell with him. His eye settled on one of the many dwarves who was wearing the colors and symbol of the Ironhammer clan.

“Excuse me,” Uthiat said very politely, “Sir Dwarf, might I ask you for assistance?”
The dwarf began to turn. As he did a voice entered into Uthiat’s mind. _Someone is speaking to the others._ The elf glanced back for a moment. “Could I ask you to see what it is about?” The elf said to the small dragon. With a flutter of small wings Meldiriel moved back toward the group. 
“What do you wish elf,” the dwarf asked.
“Would you happen to know where a mages study would be, or perhaps someone else that could direct me,” the high elf asked in a courteous tone.
As Uthait waited for the reply Mildiriel’s voice entered his mind. 
_He’s offering a challenge._ Uthiat glanced back. _And an insult. _
The elf shook his head, refocused his attention to the dwarf, and waited for a reply. In his mind there was little reason for a fight or duel at this time. It was the reason he had not joined in before and the same reason he would not join now. 

A quick glance toward the other group told him what he wanted to know. Several large looking fellows who appeared to have weapons about them. A dark elf, two dwarves, three humans, wood elf (interesting), and ... 
"Well I suppose if they are dragged into a fight I might just need to assit them," Uthiat wispered still waiting for a reply, and watching for his fellow apprentices' reactions.


----------



## Midge913

Laying on the stone bench Andaleth couldn't help but notice that slowly other groups of apprentices had started to filter into the training area. He heard the sounds of multiple weapons clashes and the snarling of young dragons as they sparred. He had heard Kell's snarling challenge to Jerome and as interesting a match up that would have been to watch, he just didn't have the wherewithall to raise his head or open his eyes. Everything hurt..... 

Tenderly checking his body, he found that despite his earlier assumptions to the contrary neither his nose, or any of his ribs were broken. This was a good thing of course, he would only be trouble by this pain for a couple of days as opposed to the forthnight broken bones would have taken to heal. Watching the group of apprentices that were to be his friends and allies, he decided that it would take an act of some divine power to bring them together. There was too much prejudice, too much bias. Tempers flared at the slightest things and the walls that were already between them just continued to grow thicker. He was hoping that his truce with Jerome would continue to grow into something that one could call companionship. He doubted that they would ever be the best of friends, but he hoped that he could find at least one or two of the apprentices that would have his back in a fight and would eventually learn to trust him. 

Sirrush seemed to be taking everything in in silence, leaving him to his thoughts, so he turned his gaze to the human Aseer. He thought that perhaps the young man could become a friend. It was obvious that he held none of the bias agains warlocks that some of the others held, but the incident in Modeus' study would surely make him wary for sometime. Andaleth decided that he would not lay on this bench and feel sorry for himself. He would continue to try and build relationships with the other apprentices despite the obstacles that lay in his way. 

Slowly hauling himself into a sitting position, Andaleth was surprised to find that the world no longer spun aroud him, and that while his ribs and face hurt, he could still see when he opened his eyes and he was having an easier time breathing. "Small blessings," he thought. Bruised ribs would heal, and black eyes would recede. Gingerly raising to his feet he walked over to the side of the mat where Aseer stood, staying well out of the way of any violence that may erupt between Kell and Jerome, and said to the young archer_," I want to apologize for things getting out of hand in Modeus' study. I hope you know that I never meant any of that to happen. I also don't want to be the one that stands in the way of our group coming together as Modeus obviously wishes us to."_ He turned to stand next to Aseer, keeping his eye on the other apprentices in the center of their ring, _"though it looks like I am not the only one who has baggage."_ 

As he waited for Aseer to reply Andaleth was shocked when Zar'Tharon entered the training hall through a door large enough to accomodate him, and made his way over to their group. He almost laughed aloud, swallowing the noise in a fit of coughing, as the great drake picked Kell up by the back of the shirt as a cat would her kittens saying, _*"Modeus wishes to see you little one."*_ He watched in amazement as the dragon carried the furious warrior from the training hall. 

No sooner had Zar'Tharon departed than a large group of apprentices approached and a tall human, his dark locks spilling around his shoulders, and his cold slate grey eyes taking them all in with disdain, crossed his arms when he arrived in front of them, scorn evident in his stance. _"So you the latest group of recruits then are you? Well you don't look like an impressive lot and your dragons are tiny, HA! By the time your dragons get to the size of our we will already be in the ranks of fully fledged dragon riders. So since you don't have any responsibilites at the moment how about a little test?"_ Andaleth tensed at the man's tone. This sounded like a bad idea, but Andaleth had already faced one bully today, what was another one. The youth continued,"_Each one of us will spar with one of you in a manner of your choosing. By the lookd of it, thress or you can use magic which is perfect as three in our group can as well! So how about it? Your group fights against ours and the loser has to scrub the great hall clean for the next week. Are you all man enough to take up our offer? Or are you not even worth of becoming dragon riders?"_

Andaleth took in the other group, especially the magic users and saw that all the wielders of magic, whether fel or not, were all female. Each was accompanied by a dragon several times larger than Sirrush, and they all looked competant in their abilities, much more he felt about himself. But he would not back down to a bully. Only time would tell what the outcome of the matches would be, but Andaleth wasn't about to let the hostile warrior dictate the terms of the spar any further. 

Stepping forward, he must have looked quite the sight clothing rumpled, armor battered and scuffed, blood covering his front. He was surprised to find that his pain was forgotten and he stood back straight infront of the challenging warrior, looking up into those cold eyes his own slate grey impassive as they locked on him, _"I cannot speak for my companions, but I accept."_ Pointing to the female warlock he said, _"How about it? Magic only?"_ 

He unconciously felt Sirrush drawing nearer to him, the drakes fierce pride radiating across their link. With a bounding leap the white dragon alighted on his shoulder, _"Pay attention Andleth," _he said across the link, _"act on instinct, feel your powers and wield them as a tool. Remain calm and fight smarter and you will be victorious."_ Andaleth stood with the rest of his companions, waiting to see what their decisions would be.


----------



## Yru0

" I want to apologize for things getting out of hand in Modeus' study. I hope you know that I never meant any of that to happen. I also don't want to be the one that stands in the way of our group coming together as Modeus obviously wishes us to. Though it looks like I am not the only one who has baggage." 

Aseer shook his head at the beaten warlock, he respected the man whole heartedly, and by god if he took this much punishment in battle and could dish it out like what he did in the study - albeit with a bit less collateral perhaps - then Andaleth was a comrade Aseer wanted to have at his side. "We both know that your actions didn't start *that* conflict, to be honest with you I don't really understand all of this sorcery; people are right to fear it, as one would a sword or an arrow, but it is wrong to loathe it for what it is, a tool that can be used for great good." Aseer smiled, "just try not to get into a swordfight with a real enemy, as stubborn as you are, I doubt even your thick hide could stop a blade with a purpose!" 

Aseer was silenced mid-conversation as the thundering form of Zar'tharon snatched away the fuming form of Kell. The scene was one of eerie irony, and passed in a moment, yet left the entire room stunned into inaction. Mere moments ago many were expecting an especially entertaining and brutal joust between Kell and Ser Jerome, yet it seemed that the machinations of their Lord would wait for nothing. The stillness was broken as more apprentices filtered into the training room, one particular group of riders strode purposefully over to the spar cage, their young dragons at least twice the size as their counterparts.
"So you the latest group of recruits then are you? Well you don't look like an impressive lot and your dragons are tiny, HA!" Seraphim growled in displeasure at the remark, sparking a slight smirk from Aseer,"By the time your dragons get to the size of our we will already be in the ranks of fully fledged dragon riders. So since you don't have any responsibilites at the moment how about a little test? Each one of us will spar with one of you in a manner of your choosing. By the lookd of it, thress or you can use magic which is perfect as three in our group can as well! So how about it? Your group fights against ours and the loser has to scrub the great hall clean for the next week. Are you all man enough to take up our offer? Or are you not even worth of becoming dragon riders?" Aseer brimed at the insult, it was petty and almost inconsequential, but the nerve of the man!


"I cannot speak for my companions, but I accept." Andaleth stepped forward and broke the icy deadlock,"How about it? Magic only?" 
Seraphim looked up at Aseer expectantly, who put on his most charming smile, "I too accept your challenge, after all it would be unsportsmanly of I to allow you to go about, knowing that you are unable to scrub the floor of the halls! The thought of it!" the archer turned towards the female warlock in the group, "And madame, might I add you tread cautiously, and please do not anger my dear friend here, I doubt any of us would survive this time." Aseer winked, the somewhat terrifying image of the bloodied Andaleth causing the slightest of concern to cross the female's face, before addressing the rest of his group, "Well come on, these good chaps don't have all day to wait for a good butt kicking!"


----------



## Angel of Blood

He continued to stare down Jerome, waiting to see if he would accept his challenge. At the same time noticing Extraxi whispering something to him with a cautious look in Kells direction. He flexed his fingers out before tightening them back into a fist over and over, slowly rotating his shoulders in anticipation for the upcoming fight, one he had no intention of being honourable or civil at. 

Before Jerome could reply or Kell do anything further however, the ground began to shake underneath him, causing his legs to buckle slightly as they tried to retain his balance. Kell barely had time to register what was happening before he was very suddenly being lifted off the ground. He kicked out furiously and uselessly as he tried to spin around and make sense of what was happening, though he has a suspicion as to what it was, feeling hot and loud breaths being exhaled against his back. Managing to twist himself round in the air, he saw that Zar’Tharon has picked him up from behind and was proceeding to march out of the hall, carrying Kell along like a wolf might do to one of its pups. 

Even more enraged now, not just as the days events, but also the humility and demeaning act of being picked up like a rag doll and escorted out of the hall. He kept on thrashing uselessly in the dragons grip, he even briefly thought about going for his pistol, but that would be beyond reckless, even for his standards. Even as he continued to struggle he heard the dragons voice echo in his head.

“The Dragon Lord wishes to see you Sir Kell, so try not to resist me. He wishes to speak with you about something very important.” 

Kell ceased his struggles somewhat and snarled in reply

“Could you not just have asked!?”

Though even as he said so, he knew full well he wouldn’t have accepted the request and was sure that Modeus and Zar’Tharon knew this also. Though that didn’t make him any less angry. Zar’Tharon ignored his snappy question, continuing on through the Hold instead. As he was carried along he distinctly heard a mocking laughter within his head and he instantly knew that it was not that of Zar’Tharons, but Typhons. The little dragon must be nearby, but try as he might he could not see him, though as he did look around he noticed just how high e was above the ground, which made him ease his struggles entirely. 

Eventually they arrived at yet another one of the large balconies, where Modeus was sat behind a desk, drinking wine and reading. Kell was put down at last into the chair opposite the Dragon Lord. Modeus looked up at Kell and offered him a glass of wine, smiling.

“Kell, we have something very important to talk about, you and I.”

Kell raised his eyebrows and replied.

“Oh? And what is so pressing that you had to send your ‘pet’ to collect me?”


He left the balcony sometime later, musing on the conversation he had just had with the High Lord. The conversation had certainly not gone the way Kell had thought it would or even been about what he had guessed it might be. As he walked down the halls, Typhon appeared at his side, seeming to meld out from the shadow of an archway, one he was almost sure had been empty as he approached it. 

“Had enough laughter at my expense now have we?” When Typhon didn’t answer he continued “Good. It seems we have something important to do little one, something very interesting”


----------



## komanko

From afar, as usual, he watched. He looked as Andaleth barely pulled himself together after the harsh beating he received from Jerome and obviously he lost, lost that battle, but not the war. He won the man’s respect, the fact that the knight didn’t spit in the face of Andaleth was already an improvement. Was it all worth it? Avariss wondered while scratching his chin, he quickly recoiled as his hand touched exposed flesh. 

For a moment he took his mind off the other warlock and looked as another challenger approached, Kell… Avariss sighed, his temper was out of control and he would kill them all, and by them he obviously meant all magic practitioners, especially warlocks like Avariss. Such narrow minded views, these views on the world were nearly intolerable by Avariss. A closed mind was easily manipulated with guile and cunning. If Jerome would answer Kell’s challenge it was possible that Kell will simply shoot him in the face.

Before anything could take place a sound like rolling thunder filled the training hall, through the massive entrance Zar’Tharon entered, his full size now visible and it was terrifying and awe inspiring at the same time. Such a mighty creature, if Gresh’Thoth would grow to such scales it would be incredible, especially with his two heads, unusual and rare. The small dragonling seemed to agree as both heads growled in satisfaction. He was forgetting that the dragon could hear his thoughts. Was it some sort of a mental link created by the first one to touch the fledgling drake? Did it happen on sight? He would have to ask Modeus about it, it was a shame that such questions did not come to his mind earlier.

Hearing a slight groan from nearby Avariss’s thoughts were cut abruptly as he turned his attention to the source of the sound. He watched how Andaleth was picking himself up, barely, with what seemed to be pure strength of will. The man stood up and began half walking half limping towards Aseer, it was a surprise that the man wanted to start a conversation at this point, a surprise that he could even think straight. Maybe he couldn’t, maybe he didn’t think straight and that’s the only way he could engage in talk with others. Doesn’t matter, it wasn’t Avariss’s business.

A voice like the sound of thunder boomed around the hall, resounding from the stone walls and magnifying itself by several times. The dragon, Zar’Tharon, he claimed that Modeus needed to speak with Kell and before he had a chance to protest that dragon picked him up and carried him away. Apparently it was not a suggestion, it was a demand. Slowly but surely the booming steps of the massive lizard ceased. The dragon carried the man into a different place. As such, mind could be set to different tasks.

It seemed that the gods have planned for this day to be a busy one, Avariss would not get rest, or so it seemed. Out of nowhere a large group of apprentices appeared, their tone was mocking, challenging, no respect was given a clear taunt. These proud apprentices were led by one, a human, this one was full of himself, he was confident, proud, disrespectful, exactly the type which deserved a stone cold fist in the face from the harsh reality, he thought himself invincible, unstoppable, Avariss’s temper was rising and with it the pain disappeared, such insolence, if one spoke like that in his father’s estate he would have been hanged.

So full of himself that one was that he dared offering them a test, a test to prove their worth. Avariss did not need his tests, yet they were a reason, they were the thing which would set him off. This one would have to be set straight. 

His challenge was simple, a spar, one against the other, yet there was a catch, there always was. Now Avariss understood why the human was so eager to goad them, he wanted to free himself from tasks which befell him. He wanted those tasks to be transformed to others. He ended his challenge, questioning their manhood and then their worth. That was enough for Avariss, he felt his nerves snapping. He could feel his barriers of will weakening as he let his anger flow out. There was the risk of letting Voice out, it was always there, but this time… He was willing to let Voice control him if the daemon would promise to end their pathetic existence.

Avariss looked behind the man, behind the group which accompanied him. Behind them were the dragons, they walked like pets behind masters, not like magnificent creatures which ruled the sky and hunted any prey, they looked so domesticated, so weak willed. Like a wolf without the will to hunt. Mice in the guise of a lion. He hoped that Gresh’Thoth would not grow to be like those pathetic creatures, Gresh’Thoth snorted angrily, he did not like Avariss’s mocking of his kin yet Avariss felt that he agreed at the same time, theses dragons, they looked weak, too trained, no free spirit left in them.

The first to answer was Andaleth, he stepped in, looking battered and weak. But looks… Looks were always deceiving. Soon Aseer joined as well, he noticed Uthiat paying attention from the corner not interfering yet still observing, a smart move. Well, as he decided he would have to step in. If he was lucky enough some might think more of him if he step in early on though that was not the main reason.

He rose from the bench, he slowly walked towards the group. The smell of seared meat and burned hair accompanied him. His robes tattered and burned. Yet still he walked casually, menacingly, he would not be down looked by a bunch of idiotic pompous fools. Finally he stepped forward, claiming his place in the battle as well. His dark green eyes glimmered with insanity and determination. He spoke, his charred face moving in a sickening way to look at. Not a pretty sight. Raw flesh stretching and twisting. 

“I am surprised…” He said and then paused waiting for the challenger to notice him. “I am surprised that they let degenerated filth like you go into a place like this, when we are done with you, you would wish to scrub the floor for a year before facing us again.” He said with a seriously menacing tone. Disgusting fools, they were worse than Kell. “Come on, throw something at us. None of you seems to know anything, and none of you look intelligent either, if you were you would’ve stepped back now and went back to your business. But don’t worry, I enjoy preying on the weak, I love hastening nature’s fate for pathetic excuses of sentience.”

His eyes once again glimmered yet this times it was not that dark green of his eyes and not the madness which could be seen, it was the rotten profane aura of fel magic that could be seen, it was the eerie dark green glow which surrounded his eyes like everlasting flames. He should boil their blood right now, save the world from idiocy but then… He would have to clean up after himself, something which he was not planning to do.


----------



## JAMOB

*Morrak Aerg*

Morrak lost his balance constantly as Zar’tharon walked with them to the sparring room. _“This is why we have wings,”_ Valerian remarked smugly. *“Shut up”.* When they finally arrived, Morrak gasped at all the apprentices sparring. Many of them were skilled beyond anything he had ever seen, and the dragons were huge! Well, at least compared to Valerian. The great dragon instructed them to spar with their fellow apprentices, and Morrak happily obliged. He fought with a fellow dwarf wielding a large axe, which he promptly destroyed with his own hammer. Forgoing their main weapons the two ran at each other with smaller axes, smashing into each other with incredible force. They held off each-others attacks, but barely. Finally, Morrak threw one axe hilt first at the other’s head, knocking him backwards. Morrak ran in quickly, using his helmet as a weapon and bashing into his opponent. He pinned the dwarf down easily, and let him up when the dwarf surrendered. *“Good fighting, friend. It’s nice to see another dwarf with a dragon”. *“Aye. Whats yer name, by the way?” *“I’m Morrak Aerg, of Gildukr.”* “I’m so sorry friend… That must have been terrible. You were there when it fell?” *“Aye, unfortunately.”* And so Morrak proceeded to tell the dwarf, who happened to be named Taruha, the story of the fall of Gildukr. At the end, Taruha comforted Morrak, who had started to tear up.

The two parted ways, promising to fight again another day. Morrak and Valerian walked over to the others. *“So how did you do Valerian?” * _“Alright. I lost, but I held him off for a while and caused him some injury.” _*“That’s good. Ye cant expect to win at the beginning, especially against one so much bigger than ye are.*” _“Yes I know. It still hurts though, to know that even though I’m a Dragon there are still many who can defeat me.”_ *“Not for long Valerian. Just wait till you get bigger, then they wont be pushing you around so easily.”
*
They arrived where the others were, just in time to hear some other apprentices call out a challenge.

"So your the latest group of recruits then are you? Well you don't look like an impressive lot and your dragons are tiny, HA! By the time your dragons get to the size of ours we will already be in the ranks of fully fledged dragon riders. So while are don't have many responsablilties at the moment how about we have a little test? Each one of us will spar with one of you in a manner of your choosing, by the looks of it, three of you can use magic which is perfect as three in our group can aswell! So how about it your group fights against yours and the loser has to scrub the great hall clean for the next week? Are you all man enough to take up our offer or are you not even worthy of becoming dragon riders?"​
The other apprentices responded to some, but Morrak had his eyes on the Deep Dwarf. *“You, come over here. I’ll take your challenge, but it’l be you who cleans the floors for me. Deep Dwarf, prepare for pain like ye’ve never known b’fore.” * The challenges issued, the battle-lines drawn, they prepared for battle. And only one would emerge victorious.


----------



## Rems

Jerome raised one eyebrow in surprise as Kell was plucked off the ground by the great black drake, to dangle helplessly in the air. “Perhaps not then”, he mused to himself. Turning back to the other apprentices he made ready to choose his next opponent, perhaps Aseer or Extraci. 

The young noble was forced to turn about again however as another group of apprentices swaggered into the arming hall, their leader calling out a challenge. Turning slowly, Jerome appraised their group. They were older apprentices certainly, they had much larger wyrms. The man who spoke was a tall with dark hair and eyes. He carried himself with authority, like a warrior. Here was a true opponent. He was irritatingly forward and brash however, most likely some jumped up sellsword lucky enough to become a dragon rider and now overawed by his new found station. 

He was a knight, the son of a great lord; there could be no refusing a challenge. He could feel that Oberon echoed his sentiments, the wyrmling’s rancour rising. He like his master had great pride and a thin skin. More rational however he did not hesitate to point out that these apprentices would no doubt be very skilled, having been trained by Modeus no doubt. Jerome brushed such concerns aside, utterly confident in his own abilities. 

“Were manners something neglected in your no doubt squalid education”? He asked the brash man, stepping forward to square up to him. “Though you do not know it you have the honour of addressing Jerome Du’Savoi, son of the Duke of Savoi” Jerome sneered, trying to intimidate the braggart. “No need to bow though, you’ll be on your knees soon enough”. 

He noted that Andelth also stepped forward to accept the challenge and his respect for the warlock grew a notch higher. The man was no doubt in pain, battered and weary but still rose to the challenge. Jerome could not decide if it was pride, bullish stubbornness or plain foolishness that made the warlock act so. Either way he seemed to have notion of the value of honour. 

Aseer and Avariss and Morrak soon answered too, proving themselves apprentices with fire in their bellies. Jerome grew a touch concerned as Avariss stepped forward. The warlock was an enigma, and a dangerous one at that. So aloof and cold, yet wild and oozing menace. There was a gleam to his eye’s that Jerome did not like. The elf was, the noble thought, a prefect example of the mad, dangerous and unsettling nature of the warlocks.


----------



## revan4559

Kell: You and Typhon make your way back to the training hall to see that the others in teh group are now engaging in spars with another group of apprentices and as you enter the northman from the other group of apprentices turns to you and make shis way over with long strides. At his sides are two large axes that even you would struggle to lift if you used both of your hands and looking back up at the northmans face you can see red and black tribal tattoo's swirling around his eyes and down his cheeks. "You there little man, have the honour of fighting me! Hargath Red-Axe!" The northman then pounds his fists on his chest before pointing at one of the training circles and then at your sword. "We shall fight until first blood is drawn or until the other surrenders. Acceptable?" The northman then waits for your reply before grunting and heading over to the circle to wait for you(or train on his own if you refuse).

Andaleth The female warlock looks at you and tilts her head to the side while giving you a quizzicle look before shrgging her shoulders and walking off with her dragon to one of the training cages at the far side of the room. Once she enters the training cage he stands at the opposite side with her arms crossed across her chest waiting for you once to enter and when you have the cage door closes behind you and locks which is a clear sign it is enchanted to close when those training have entered. The woman continues to stare at you with her pale-green eyes before opening her mouth to speak but no sound comes from her mouth as her lips move and form words before she flicks out her right hand and sends a ball of green flame hurtling towards your chest with average speed obviously wishing to test your reactions first before comitting her strength and other spells. 

Extraxi - OOC: Still waiting on a post from you for the previous update.

Aseer The rather tall human archer with short black hair steps forward and nods towards you "You shall be my opponent, we shall use short-swords only and shall go until the other has been disarmed." With that the human marches off towards a training circle and takes a short sword off one of the weapon racks near it before standing within the circle waiting for you. Walking after the human you too move to one of the weapon racks and pick up one of the short swords and can see that all the blades have been dulled as not to cause major injury but with enough force put behind a swing could still draw blood. Moving to stand opposite your opponent the human raises his sword in salute and leaps forward swinging his short sword in low to hit the side of your right knee and knock you off balance.

Morrak The deep dwarf stares at you with dark brown eyes and reaches behind his back and unsheaths a huge two-headed war-axe inscribed with blood-red runes but before you draw your weapon he slams it into the ground and stomps towards you as he rolls up his sleaths and unleashed powerful blow of his right fist than connects with your lower jaw with a thunderous crack than sends you sprawling backwards. "No weapons, Mountain Dwarf. We shall fight using the weapons we were gifted with upon our birth." Pushing yourself up you can see that the deep dwarf has even more muscular arms than all other dwarves in the room which means he could possibly be on of the strongest dwarven apprentices there are. This should be interesting and it seems that the deep dwarf has decided to spar with you here rather than in one of the sparring cages.

Avariss: The elven mage turns his gaze to look over you before smiling slightly. "I shall be your opponent then Dark One for I shall show you the true power of Arcane magic over your pathetic and cursed Fel Magic." The elven mage then points her staff at one of the caged training arena's much like the one Andaleth just entered with his opponent. "Like your friend there who also uses the corrupted form of magic as too shall duel with all the powers at our disposal but we shall do it until the other relenents." with that the mage walks over to the training cage using her golden staff as a walking stick as his golden dragon follows him. Oddly Gresh'Thoth remains upon your shoulder and seems to not want to let go clearly wanting a good view of the magic duel that is about to commence, you need to enter the training arena and prepare yourself for a magic duel, something your not entirely sure about as this would be your first proper one. Feel free to cast the first spell.

Azreal: You are awoken to a large weight dropping down from the ceiling and slamming straight into your stomach making you sit bolt upright as you gasp for air and looking around you can see Narvanash jumping away from your bed laughing. "Time to wake up Azreal or you will be late for todays sparring session and I do believe that you should not drink so much tonight or you might sleep through the entire of tomorrow. Now collect your armour and weapons, grab something to eat and head to the training roon. Ther'axis has contacted me and his master wishes to spar with you today so you best hurry as the leader of his group has already challenged a group of apprentices to cleaning the entire great hall for the next week." Narvanash then jumps off of the table and heads to the door to wait for you. As you hold your pounding head you resolve not to drink so much again even though last night was a special occasion as new apprentices arrived but you are a Paladin so you focus your mind and the pounding in your head subsides. Quickly doing what your dragon has suggestioned you gathe rup your gear and have a quick bite to eat before heading to the training hall, once there you can see the black dragon Ther'axis sat beside his master waiting for you and looking up from the dragon you see a tall dark elf with shoulder length white hair clad in dark purple armour waiting for you. As you make your way over to him he nods to you before he unsheaths the two blades at his waist and heads to one of the sparring circles to wait for you, you should head over to your opponent and get todays training lesson over with as you haven't eaten that much and your stomach starts to growl.

Jerome The Mountain dwarf stood next to the deep dwarf steps forward and sizes you up with a large smile upon his face "Right then laddie! I shall be your opponent but my conditions are different to the rest of these tall humans and pointy-ears! If I win our fight then you owe me five beers, If you win the fight then i'll owe you..ill owe you....hmmm" The dwarf then starts to rub his beard as he obviously thinks of what to finish his sentence with. "If you win then i'll owe you a barrel of the finest dwarven ale there is!" With that the dwarf grips your wrist and tugs you towards one of the empty sparring circles before he places down his axe and shield before taking up a two-handed wooden sword and throws it to you. "You use that laddie and I'll use my fists. Now ready when you are!", it seems that the dwarf is leaving it up to you to start the fight so attack at will.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell arrived back in the training Hall and looked around for his fellow apprentices, in particular the pair of warlocks. All of them however were currently dueling another group of apprentices. As he continued to look around the hall a northman who was not part of their group spotted Kell and made his way over to him. He was a large brute of a man, all muscle and hair, easily a head taller than Kell. His hard, scar covered face was covered in a maze of red and black tattoos, not entirely unlike the ones Kell himself sported. Hung at his sides were a pair of enormous war axes that Kell was daily certain he wouldn't be able to use effectively in a two handed grip, never mind duel wield. 

He reached Kell and almost roared into his face "You there little man, have the honour of fighting me! Hargath Red-Axe"

Kell winced slightly at the declaration, the mans breath almost defeating him alone, it smelling like a mix of raw meats, too much ale and other smells he couldn't begin to fathom. He raised his hand to wipe the spit from the mans roar of his face and went to reply, but the man wasn't finished yet.

"We shall fight until first blood is drawn or until the other surrenders. Acceptable?" He roared again.

Kell neglected to bother this time with wiping his face as he once again assailed by the mans horrendous breath and spit, instead he smirked back at the man and replied. "Well who am I to turn down such a charming offer? Lead the way!" 

With a grunt the northman strode over to the training circle and took his place, glaring at Kell the whole time, though Kell wasn't sure if he was actually glaring at him or if his face was simply incapable of forming any other expression. Noting the northman seemed to have no dragon with him, Kell silently commanded Typhon to stay outside the circle and instead stealthily carry out the task he had been set. He entered the circle and considered his opponent. He was undoubtedly strong and going off his weapons of choice, likely had very little finesse or flare for dueling, probably relying on brute force and overwhelming strength to defeat his opponents. It would not be an easy fight and for a moment Kell considered simply shooting him in a non-vital area, but he was quite certain the northman would quickly forget the rules of the duel and attempt to kill him if he committed such an act, that and Modeus would probably be suitably unhappy. So instead he slowly drew his twin swords from their sheathes across his back and held them low in a loose unassuming stance. The northman didn't even draw his weapons, continuing instead to glare at Kell, perhaps hoping his gaze alone would defeat him. Kell was not going to be the one to charge forwards, so instead decided to taunt the man into action instead.

"So exactly why is it an honour to fight such a primitive and rather ugly looking brute such as yourself?" he snidely asked. The northman merely snarled at him, though Kell could see he was clearly quick to anger from one comment alone "I only ask because I've so much better and more important things to do with my time than to duel such a crude and unimposing person such as yourself"

The man snarled again and growled at him "One more remark little man, just one!!"

Kell considered this for a moment, perhaps angering the man so wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't resist bating him once more "I couldn't help but notice that we have matching tattoos, how absolutely darling!"

And then he snapped. With a colossal roar he charged straight at Kell, not even bothering to draw his axes, seemingly intent on drawing ample amounts of Kells blood with his bare hands. Kell excited a neat side roll to avoid the charging northman, flicking out a blade as he did so to try and land a shallow cut, but narrowly missed. He cleanly came out of the roll and spun around only to see one of the now drawn axes swinging viciously towards him, he leaned back just far enough for the blade to narrowly miss his chest, close enough to clearly see every individual chip, scratch and more pressingly dried blood. With both axes now drawn and in full swing, Kell was forced to rapidly alter his attack dynamic. He was almost entirely on the defence, blocking and dodging the brutal swings and chops of the northman, but he was always on the look out for an opening and when one finally appeared he parried a large sweep and delivered a quick riposte to the chest, with only a leather strap denying him victory, his sword was of course more than capable of stabbing through the leather, but he was careful not to put too much force into his blows to prevent serious injury to his opponent, though the northman did not appear to have such reservations and Kell was quite confident more than one of his swings could be lethal if allowed to land. 

The northman only seemed to be getting more and more enraged though and he sensed that the duel would have to end soon if he was to escape without serious injury. He formed a quick plan in his mind and once again changed his approach. He concentrated all his strikes at one side of the northman, only parrying that sides axe also, whilst leaving his other side alone and attempting to only dodge the other axe. Slowly Hargath was forced to alter his own style, having to favour his one side as it took all the attention. As Hargaths one arm tired, Kell moved in for the opening he had been waiting for. He caught an axe swing from the tiring side with both his blades and wrenched the axe free from the surprised northmans hand, though to his credit he realised what was happening at the last moment and helped carry the axe away, giving it added momentum. Such was the size of the axe coupled with its added momentum that Kell couldn't control the disarm and lost both his blades at the same time. Hargath followed this up with a blow to his chest using the flat of his axehead. Kell crashed to the floor as he reached down for his thigh. 

Hargath roared and raised his axe high ready to deliver what would be a killing blow and triumphantly bellowed at him "You are defeated!"

Kell cocked an eyebrow and smirked back as he looked down "So are you"

The northman looked down at Kell in incredulity for a moment before following Kells gaze to see his pistol drawn and pointing squarely at his chest.


----------



## Yru0

Aseer followed the tall archer towards the fighting circle, a light chalk mark on the ground which contained the rage and fury of the apprentices' duels; by the time Aseer had arrived at the weapons rack, his opponent had taken up position on the far side of the arena. All of the short-swords were dulled and blunted, most probably so that certain eager apprentices didn't do anything that they would come to regret; however, glancing over at Andaleth and the female warlock entering their spar cage, Aseer couldn't help but wonder if it was a truly effective measure. 

The weapon twirled deftly in Aseer's grip, it was well balanced for a training sword, and not much bigger than a large dagger; Aseer had been concerned about the use of swords, swordplay was most definitely not his forte. After watching Jerome and the other apprentices duel, he had some idea that the apprentices which Modeus had gathered were all able, and some were incredibly gifted; Aseer didn't fancy his chances in a proper swordfight. It was the word _disarm_ that got his blood pumping; now *that* was something Aseer could do, an archer often found himself too close for comfort, and his dagger could not match the reach of his opponents weapon; the only solution is to disarm you foe, level the playing field. Of course some knights like to call this 'dishonorable' or 'cheating' but Aseer figured it was worth it to see the look on a armour-clad warrior who's just had his weapon wrenched out of his hands. 

Aseer eyed the man before him, his heart pounding in preparation for the fight. His opponent rose his sword in salute, but it was all Aseer could do to nod in return before the first lightning strike flashed out towards his right knee, a strike that was deftly deflected. Aseer rose the blade from the parry with a fluid motion and attempted to pound his opponents left shoulder with the hilt of his blade, before feeling his arm shoved aside and the blow go wide. The two competitors stood at opposite ends of the circle, both outside of each other's reach, walking slowly around each other, looking for any opening, relatively long moments of tension and calm were punctuated with a sudden flash before the attacker wheeled back to his side of the field. 

It was during one of these 'calm's' when the two were eyeing each other for any mistake that Aseer met the eyes of his opponent, "I am Aseer, might I ask your opinion on your fellow apprentices?" Aseer lunged in at his opponent, kicking out at a mispaced leg whilst attempting to stab at his exposed abdomen, a blow that was easily parried, a mere cover for Aseer's fist wailing towards his opponents exposed face. The two stared at each other once more from either side of the arena, a small trickle of blood dripping from the tall man's nose, "You don't seem to fit with them. You're most certainly more honourable than I expected, and definitely more so than your good friend big, fat and ugly over there." The archer kept matching Aseers paces around the edge of the circle, their eyes locked, "Perhaps, but judging by you own glances Aseer, you don't see all of your comrades in quite the same light, do you not?"
Aseer grunted in reply, deflecting yet another blow that almost knocked him off balance. By now, both men had small cuts and scrapes littered across their exposed flesh, each trying to weaken the other with a million paper-cuts, Aseer smiled through the pain, "Perhaps." before lunging once more.


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## Midge913

Andaleth stood still, letting his opponent take in the measure of him, her head cocked slightly to the side a small smile playing over her face. He took in her appearance as well. She stood several inches shorter than Andaleth, with shoulder lenght brown hair and blue eyes, in which quite power sparkled. He was unsure whether he would have noticed that last trait days ago, or if his short time here had already forced him to grow more attune to the presence of magic. She walked with the confidence of one sure in her abilities, the long crystal topped, thorn-wood staff she carried held loosely in her hand. Dressed in loose fitting breeches and blouse of deep maroon, she cut an elgant figure. The silver drake that followed in her wake was easilty the size of a large boar hound, and it and Sirrush eyed each other warily. If any communion occured between them, Sirrush did not say. 

The Warlock entered the cage first and for a moment Andaleth felt trepidation at being locked in with her. He was still so unsure of his powers and the thought of facing off against a practitioner with more training made him feel on edge. 

_"Calm yourself Andaleth,"_ Sirrush said, _"I have had almost enough of your self pity and fears. You faced down Jerome in an arena were you had no place, this is something you know. Feel the powers that you control, act on instinct and remain calm." _ For the first time since his hatching, there was scorn in his drake's voice. Perhaps he was acting foolishly. It was obvious that others within the keep, other warlocks, made use of the powers at their disposal. If he was to keep his place amongst the apprentices he must face this hurdle head on. Had Modeus not indicated that he, along with Avariss, represented one of the most powerful spell casters in the keep. He would have to get over the blocks that he had put on himself. He would have to tear down the walls around the well of power that he had put there years ago when he learned what he was. 

He stepped into the cage behind his opponent, _"I am sorry Sirrush,"_ he said across the bond_," You are right and it won't happen again."_ Seemingly mullified his drake lay down outside the cage with his counterpart, each seemingly eager to see the match play out. His opponent stood waiting, arms crossed, staff held in the crook of one arm, and as the enchanted cage door shut and locked, he suddenly felt her draw power around herself. Trying not to over think he reacted, reaching for the well of power that he knew to be in his very core, and he felt the magic flood into him. He saw the woman, flinch slightly as his eyes began to glow bright orange, an oddity amongst warlocks he had come to learn, but all the same she opened her mouth, forming unspoken words. Her hand shot forth and from it sprang a ball of pure green flames. Andaleth could tell that it was not an attack that carried the full weight of her sorcerery behind it. It was a probe, a testing of his own ability. 

He felt it as the ball of flame arched towards his chest and acting on pure instinct he thought of deflecting the spell. His hands erupted into orange flames and as her spell streaked foward he reached out and caught the spell, twisting with its momentum, light flashing from the impact of their seperate sorceries, he diverted the spell to the side where it left a small scorch mark against the pitted stone. Looking up he could tell that she had not anticipated that, her eyebrows raised in surprise as he launched his own attack. Again a probe of her abilities, he felt his spell change, he felt the flames turning to crackling electircity, archs of orange tinged black lighing danced back and froth between his hands and the floor, before lancing toward the other warlock with a thrust of his hand and will.


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## Lord Ramo

Azreal leapt up, his deep sleep being awoken by a large object dropping from a great height, hitting him square in the stomach. His mind reeled, even as he reached for his blade, the long elven sword was kept next to him at all time, he was used to the comforting weight of Lightbringer, and it reminded him of his duty as a Paladin, to root out evil and destroy it in all its forms. He feared nothing whilst he had a purpose.

He knew it would be nigh on impossible to destroy evil, men were to weak and greedy, evil would always rule their hearts. The dwarfs were of the same cloth of men, though stubborn their greed knew no bounds. Even his own race, had their flaws that meant that evil may never be destroyed. He knew his race was seen as arrogant and they had a point, it meant that his job would never be done.

That was fine by him. His eyes darted around the room as he looked for his assailant, his right hand drew Lightbringer partially out of his scabbard until he saw what had "attacked" him. He couldn't help but grin as he stood, weapon back in its scabbard. He looked at Narvanash, his companion. The little dragon sat there, staring up at him, its white scales gleaming in the candle light. He walked over to the dragon and held out his arm, allowing it to hop up to his shoulder.

"Time to wake up Azreal or you will be late for todays sparring session and I do believe that you should not drink so much tonight or you might sleep through the entire of tomorrow. Now collect your armour and weapons, grab something to eat and head to the training roon. Ther'axis has contacted me and his master wishes to spar with you today so you best hurry as the leader of his group has already challenged a group of apprentices to cleaning the entire great hall for the next week."

Azreal let out a short laugh, his voice musical. *"Well Navanash, my little companion you must stop me from drinking and making a fool of myself, give me a moment to rid myself of this insufferable pain and then we shall make our way to the training area."* With that he focused his powers, knowing that if he didn't have a clear head, then he was most likely doomed in a fight. 

Azreal quickly changed into his glorious dark plate armour, it would provide a contrast with what colour Navanash was, and placed his blade in its scabbard attaching it to his left hip. *"Come Navanash, let us go and show these men how a Paladin fights."* He pulled his helm onto his head and strode from his chambers, Navanash perched on his shoulder as he walked. He had fought the forces of evil and darkness for almost a hundred years, he was disciplined in fighting and was an excellent swordsman.

While the riders may have skill with a blade so did he, and he had experience of a lifetime compared to mortal men. He moved quickly, entering the training halls to see all manner of men, elves and dwarves sparring, watching, learning. Their dragons watched as well, and for a second he was struck by the beauty of the dragons. They were elegant and regal, much like Navanash, but he expected nothing less from his companion.

Azreal quickly spotted the black dragon Ther'axis, his scales darker than the armour that Azreal wore, sat beside his master the one who wished to spar with Azreal. Azreal looked over his opponent quickly as he moved towards them, trying to see if there was anything in his opponents posture to see whether he favoured attack or defence. 

He saw a tall dark elf, white shoulder length hair and clad in a rich and dark purple armour standing tall and proud. Azreal smiled, at least it was an elf he was fighting, even if he wasn't a high elf. Their speed would be evenly matched, as would their strength from the looks of it. A fair fight, an honourable one.* "Navanash, watch how he and I fight, see where his blade falls and where mine falls. I hope I am evenly matched in this fight, it will make it ever more interesting if I have a challenge." *

Navanash let out a throaty snarl, "You maybe evenly matched, but I hope you don't expect me to duel master Ther'axis. It wouldn't be fair on the big dragon to get beaten by one as young as me." Azreal let out a laugh at that, stroking Navanash's head before turning to the Dark Elf. Rakarth Shadowsword, that was the name of the dark elf. Azreal knew he had to be respectful to him. 

Azreal bowed his head, *"Sir Rakarth, I am Paladin Azreal Elthenash of the Silver hand order. It is an honour to meet you."* The dark elf nodded and gestured towards one of the training cages, Azreal, still smiling removed his helm and placed it on the ground. *"Guard my helm Navanash."* He whispered to him, Navanash responding by hopping and perching on top of the helm as best he could.

Rakarth drew two blades at his waist, fine looking swords before Azreal followed him into the circle. He drew his own elven blade, a beautiful blade, its hilt was long, and its pommel encrusted with a gleaming white gem. The blade was long and slightly curved, perfectly balanced weapon. Azreal gripped it in two hands, opting to leave his shield with Navanash as well.

Azreal waited for Rakarth to make the first move, the Dark Elf moving forward like a snake blades whistling through the air. Azreal leapt forward to meet him, ducking underneath a quick slash aimed at his head, whilst he brought his blade to meet the second. He lashed out with a foot, forcing Rakarth to step back where Azreal could sweep in an uppercut with his sword. Rakarth quickly blocked and launched a counter attack, and the dance began again.

Both participants moved with astounding speed, blades meeting in a whirl of steel. Azreal smiled as their blades met again, the sound of steel resonating through the circle. It was a challenge, the Dark Elf had some moves, and kept pressing his attacks. Azreal landed the first blow, his blade finding its way through Rakarths defence, striking him on his right arm. However he couldn't enjoy it as Rakarth landed two blows in quick succession, hitting Azreal on the leg and back. 

Azreal steadied himself, defending from a flurry of attacks, determined to not allow Rakarth to land another blow on his back. His scar shamed him, burning into his very soul for the moment he let his guard down. Azreal stepped forward, blocking Rakarths attack before striking with his hilt, hitting the Dark Elf in the stomach. 

He stepped back again, allowing his opponent a chance to ready himself, the bout was far from over. Rakarth barely took a second before he leapt forward, blades whirling in a complicated series of attacks, one blade launching an attack on one side while he brought his other blade around to the other side. Azreal twisted to avoid the attack to realize his mistake. It had been a feint by Rakarth, and now he was on the back foot, Rakarth forcing him back several steps using this technique with nothing Azreal could do to stop it. 

Azreal rolled underneath his next attack, his blade tapping his opponents back on the way up. *"I don't know if your counting or not Navanash, but it appears I am winning."* He spoke with his mind, Navanash chuckling dryly. Azreal turned only to see Rakarths blade, hitting the side of his head with the flat of his blade. Azreal, slightly dazed only had time to jump back to avoid the next strike. "Short lived victory." Navanash spoke back, Azreal ignoring the jibe as he counter attacked at Rakarth.

However the two blades were giving Rakarth the advantage, Azreal wished he had brought his shield in as well, it could have been more even. He had underestimated his opponent, and thought that while proving a slight challenge would have been beaten easily. Azreal used his body to his advantage, Uther his mentor had taught him how to dodge attacks effectively, and Azreal used this to stab at Rakarth. However he had been expecting it, knocking his blade to one side before using one of Azreal's earlier attacks, hitting Azreal on his back with the pommel of his sword. 4-3 the score was now, and Azreal stood, he would not leave the circle yet, even though he was tiring and hungry, knowing that Rakarth would also tire eventually.


----------



## Rems

Jerome’s eyes widened in surprise as the stocky dwarf changed the conditions of the bet. Truthfully though the young noble much preferred this set of conditions to the notion of scrubbing the halls. He had never performed any such menial act is his life, the very idea of scrubbing floors was appalling to the Jerome; the act itself was beneath him. Though of course he believed that if he wished to he could do so, and do a very fine job of it, much as he, like any self assured noble, believed that were he of a mind to he could certainly do any of the jobs peasants seems to spend their lives doing and complain about. 

As he and his short opponent stepped into the sparring circle Jerome smiled to himself, the dwarf was foregoing the use of weapons, giving Jerome a clear advantage. A wiser man may have advised caution, suspecting the dwarf had some tricks up his sleeve but Jerome saw only advantage. He would have reach certainly and his plate armour would protect him from the dwarf’s punches. Even so the young knight did not relish the idea of being struck by his dwarven opponent. Though small in stature he was built like a brick outhouse, his corded biceps thicker than Jerome’s legs. 

Hefting his sword and testing it’s weight and balance Jerome made a few practice swings as the dwarf stood away, content to let Jerome make the first move. Probing the dwarf’s reactions and defences Jerome made a sudden leftwards slice, his wooden blade in line with the dwarf’s thick neck. Smiling the short one nimbly ducked and skipped back, moving faster than Jerome would have thought. He moved gracefully, even elegantly for a dwarf. His smooth movements spoke of long years of training as a warrior; Jerome’s iron shod self belief withered slightly. 

He made several more swings, each time the dwarf evading, or simply bulling through them; twisting his armoured shoulders to deflect Jerome’s falling blade. Twice he simply lazily battered the sword aside, a nonchalant grin across his face. The dwarven warrior would then fight back, delivering sharp jabs that rung dully on Jerome’s full plate armour. Inwardly Jerome marvelled at the dwarves’ toughness, punching steel couldn’t be fun. 

The dwarf tried to grapple with him, to bring the human down with his superior leverage and centre of balance, he was a true brawler, no doubt a veteran of many tavern fights. So when the dwarf advanced Jerome circled and kept back, he did not want to be within reach of those trunk like arms. The dwarf would likely be able to wrench the sword of his hands or pinion his arms to the side if he let him. 

Jerome decided to use his superior height and brought the heavy two handed sword down in a long overhead chop, aiming for the shiny bald pate on the dwarf’s head. Unbelievably the dwarven warrior simply reached up with two hands and held the sword between his palms stopping it dead. Jerome’s eye’s bulged with effort as he attempted to press the sword down further, onto the dwarves head; signalling a victory. No matter how he tried however he could not, the dwarf was like a rock. A rock that could fight back. With a sharp twist of his hands the dwarven warrior wrenched the blade right out of Jerome’s hands before casting it out of the ring. 

Dismayed and impressed despite himself, Jerome skipped back as fast as he could before bring his armoured hands into a pugilists stance. The dwarf cocked his head and grinned, “That’s the spirit lad” he drawled.


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## komanko

Opponents have been chosen, some have already entered their pits of battle, very few were left outside of their cages. Glancing sideward he noticed the High Elven female staring at him, it seemed that she would be his opponent. When she noticed that Avariss acknowledged her presence she smiled weakly and challenged him, mocking the path he followed, it was obvious that she did not know that he had practice in the same arcane arts that she followed, it would give him an edge in the upcoming battle, though his weakened body and mind would make it harder for him…

He turned to her with a false smile and sarcastically answered, “Oh my lady, my pathetic fel and corrupt powers are nothing against your arcane knowledge.” Snorting with contempt he stepped towards the closest pit of battle. “When your mind will be shattered by the daemons of the void we shall see who’s power is pathetic… My dear lady.” He said with a cruel smile.

As he stepped inside the pit he gazed at the elf which stood in front of him, ready to do battle. She seemed rather young, pale skinned, skinny, reminding him of a malnourished child. Long blonde hair fell from her head down to her waist. Her eyes were green, just like Avariss’s, one would say that the eyes are the gateway to ones soul, it could’ve been nice to tear her eyes out and see if her soul would be torn out as well. He shook his head in disgust, he recognized this dark thoughts, they were not his own.

Still, she was very much smug about her powers and filled with pride and self confidence. It would be a shame to shatter her confidence into oblivion. Looking down he saw that her dragon did not leave her side, the dragon followed her into the cage and stayed nearby. He noticed that Gresh’Thoth as well, was still sat upon his shoulder either refusing to leave his companion or simply seeking a good vantage point for the coming battle.

“So little one, come to indulge on your friend’s suffering?” He rhetorically asked Gresh’Thoth. “It’s not a good habit, though it can be quite an entertaining one.” He stared at the elf in front of him, she was prepared, yet, he couldn’t decide if he was. He tried to judge her character, though she seemed smug and self confidant she loathed the dark arts he practiced, could he risk guessing that she was kind hearted and honorable? A good question, one that he shall put to the test, and willingly or unwillingly Gresh’Thoth will help him, even if it will be done unintentionally.

He stared at the female elf a little more, his face twisted into a grim and determined expression, he would take a risk and guess that one who practices the arcane does not know much about the fel and how it works. Instead of attacking instantly he elaborately placed his hands in various postures and shapes, like he was inacting a ritual of sorts, he began channeling power and his eyes began to glow in the hellish green color which so much reminded him of swamp water. Yet before doing anything he stopped the channeling, faking pain, he fell to the ground on his knees, the metallic taste of blood still lingered in his mouth and he spat it, small droplets of blood mixed with mucus and saliva were spat out. He coughed, more blood pouring out, he could hear Gresh’Thoth moving upon his shoulder, restless and alarmed. He stayed like that for a few moments, waited to hear movement or words from his opponent, he continued waiting for a bit more and then without a moments delay he stood up.

Mercilessly he unleashed a fel fireball towards the elf, it was a cruel tactic but he needed the advantage, he was wounded and tired after all. His eyes glowed with green hellish color, light green vapors began forming on his hands as he conjured his second fireball, the green flame which corrupted it was magnificent to look at, like a small green sun. The smell of sulfur accompanied the unleashing of the second fireball, the stink hitting Avariss’s nostrils like a rampaging bull. Without a moments delay he continued his assault, quickly looking around, he registered as much as he could form his environment and then without a single word he engulfed the whole pit with the same impenetrable darkness which he used against the corrupt giant. 

With his eyes closed he began moving, using his senses to move around the pit’s sides, slowly trying to sneak behind the elf. It would be interesting to see how she would deal with this situation.


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## revan4559

Kell: In your mind you hear the laugh of Typhon and wonder what exactly he is laughing at before Typhon finally speaks. "I wouldn't do that if I was you human, perhaps you should look to your left and see why?" Should you look to your left you see a Shadow dragon atleast five times the size of Typhon sat next to you with its fangs bared and some of the spinal ridges running down its back currently standing on end as green spit runs from its fangs and drips onto the floor, if you ask Typhon why he didn't warn you about the Northmans dragon being there then his reply would be. "His ability to hide in the shadows far exceeds mine human, I only realized it when you fell over that his dragon was hiding in YOUR own shadow which meant at any time during the fight your opponents dragon could of tripped you up or bitten into your leg or ankle making you lose the fight as you never specifided whether myself or his dragon were to join in." With that Typhon jumps from his place ontop of one of the benchs and lands inbetween you and the Northmans dragon and bears his own fangs towards the much larger dragon. What you do is now up to you as it seems that you and your opponent are at an impass, perhaps you should suggest restarting the fight from the beginning or just call it a draw? What you do is up to you.

Andaleth Your opponent tilts her head to the side on curiousity before thrusting her staff out to point towards your lightning and allows it to absorb the impacts before slamming the butt of the staff into the ground allowing the lightning to channel through the staff and earth itself harmlessly on the ground before she then raises an eyebrow before mouthing another unword again as the crystal ontop of her staff glows and now starts to absorb your lightning before she tips the staff forward and the crystal belches forth your own lightning back at you now tinted with the deep green colour of normal Fel Magic. As the lightning archs towards you your opponent starts to mouth another spell which turns the crystal ontop of her staff from deep green to dark red as she sends forth a searing ball of flame that is a deep blood red with black outlines just after the lightning, it seems that your opponent is now turning the battle up a level.

Extraxi OOC: Waiting on you to post for the previous update.

Aseer As you lunge forward at your opponent he twists to the side out of the way and brings the tilt of his blade up and slams it right inbetween your eyes knocking you onto your back and making pain flare inside of your head while making your vision turn white from the pain but as this is a fight you instinctively roll out of the way of an attack that would of caught you on the back of the wrist and so for now you merely keep your distance while your sight returns but the pain remains which you guess after this fight is done and for several days there will be a rather large bruise inbetween your eyes just above your nose. As your sight returns you see that your opponent is once again on the otherside of the sparing circle and waiting for you to make your next move, while Seraphim sits outside of the circle watching you but giving no input at the moment while your opponent jumps forward and brings his blade around to clip you on the side of the head with the flat of his blade something which was rather predictable but you are in no mood to take anymore blows to the head.

Morrak OOC: Waiting on you to post for the previous update.

Avariss: The female elf infront of you flicks out her left hand and sends a sapphire ball of fire to meet yours directly in the centre of the pit in an explosion of power and light before you quickly envelope the arena in darkness which provokes an annoyed curse from your opponent who tries to illuminate where she was standing but to next affect so she merely just sends several fireballs into the training cage walls in an attempt to hit you and one comes dangerously close to hitting you as you feel the hot air caused by an explosion mere feet away. As you navigate your way around the dark pit to close in on your opponent you feel something slam into your legs and knock you flat on your face but it is not Gresh'Thoth as he is still on your back, it must be your opponents dragon having used its other senses to work out where you are from your smell and its hearing and now that it knows where you are as does its masters as you feel arcane energy being gathered before an ice shard slams into the cage just to the left of your head as you feel its chilling sensation pass along your cheek. Perhaps you should send your dragon to find your opponent so you can attack her aswell?

Azreal: Rakarth takes a step back from you before tilting his head to the side before he shifting his left sword into a reserse grip and placed the two ends of the swords together and twisted with an audiable click being heard, it seems that the two blades of Rakarth can form a single two-bladed staff like weapon when he needs but you have never fought such a weapon before so you do not know what it will be like to fight one. Moving forward Rakarth holds the handle of his 'new' weapon and brings it in a sweeping arc to clip your left ribs with the flat of his blade but while he comes towards you notice that he has to continually keep his blade moving around himself and you also notice that if you can get in close to Rakart he will have trouble bringing the end blades around to deflect your blows so after blocking or parrying your opponents attack you have time to strike back and see if you can win this fight.

Jerome "Alright Lad! Now your finally deciding to fight me like a man i'll allow you the first shot free!" The Dwarf stomps forwards you and raises his chin to look up at you then taps the side of his face with his left hand. "Alright lad gimme your best shot." This would confuse you that the dwarf is allowing you a free shot at him with your bare fists and so you decide to do what the dwarf askes as you would rather not have to get the dwarf a beer so you pull your arm back as far as you can before punching the dwarf square in the chin which snaps his head around and sends pain shooting up your arm and into your shoulders though the pain mainly focuses around your knuckles. Turning his head back to look at you the dwarf smiles a toothy grin with the a slightly split lip and lets out a heartly laugh. "Now bad for a milk-fed human. My turn." The dwarf then pulls back his thick right arm and sends a thunderous punch straight into your stomach with a deafening clang of plate on plate which from the force of it also hits you in the stomach and knocks the wind out of you making you fall to all fours and gasp for breath. "How was that for a punch laddie? Want to give it another shot or just get me a beer?"

Daniel: You are currently sat on one of the benches within the sparring hall watching two groups of apprentices spar against each other after hearing the the leader of one group bet the others that if they win then the others will have to clean the great hall for an entire week, you are particually interesting in these two groups as the Drgon Lord said that you would be joining one of those two groups but he didn't say which one it would be. Sat at your feet is Caementum curled up and now resembling a small boulder due to his stony hide though you can see that he is atleast paying some form of attention to what is going on through a half opened eye lid. Since your dragon hatched he has been rather lazy and hasn't said much and seems to prefer to sleep alot which could mainly be because there hasn't been much to do lately as you haven't joined a group of apprentices yet and begin your lessons. Perhaps you should move from your position and go over to get a closer look at one of the current spars that is going on?


----------



## Midge913

Andaleth had not anticipated his lightning strike to end the duel and sure enough, his opponent thrust her staff forward, collected his bolt of electricity into the crystal on the tip of her staff. With a smile and a curious gaze in his direction she slammed the but of her staff to the floor, discharging the spell harmlessly into the ground. Her eyes never left his face. It was as if she was trying to glean some information, some tidbit about his personality and capability from his eyes, so locked upon them her crystaline blue orbs were. He felt distracted for a moment, taken off guard by the piercing quality of her gaze. She seemed mirthful, happy to be engaged in this primal struggle of arcane might, and he for once, couldn't help but share her enthusiasm. The feel of the power coursing through him was intoxicating. Though his mind screamed that the power was wrong, that taking it in and shaping it was corrupting his very core, he ignored it. He ignored the fears and trepidation that he had felt for so long. This woman, his opponent, was a creature of beauty. The power she wielded no more than a tool. In her features he saw none of the corruption he had seen in the creatures from the banquet. She was whole, in control, and master of the power that others feared. 

Apparently some of the relief he felt had seeped into his expression, for his opponent raised a deliciously curved eyebrow at him, her mouth forming the silent words of a new spell. The crystal atop her staff began to glow and pulse with green light and reaching out with his senses he felt the magic raging in her, swirling around her form in a vortex of chaotic power. Thrusting her staff forward the crystal belched forth a bolt of lighting, this time green tinged, the normal color of fel magic. As the lightning streaked towards him Andaleth, rolled to the left and came up kneeling, he saw the warlock, green fire swirling in her hands, matching the fel flames that danced in her eyes. With an unspoken word, even as the green tinged lighting streaked past him, the crystal on the tip of her staff changed to the color of dried blood, and from its depths and explosiong of heat and flame billowed forth. A streaking ball of crimson fire aimed directly at his heart. 

He felt his power surge within his breast, reacting to the presence of the others magic, and with a flare of orange light from his eyes and a wordless snarl he thrust both of his hands out in front of him wrenching them backwards toward his chest in clentched fists. He thought of distracting the other warlock, of causing her to split her attention, and all around him pockets of shadow opened in to the void, one of which swallowed the incandescent bolt. From the pockets of shadow a mad chittering could be heard and from the shapeless void errupted a two Impish creatures made from shadow and dancing orange energy. On flittling wings of orange pulsing light, a strange orange mist immenating form pores on their childlike bodies, the Imps streaked toward the warlock chittering in their incomprehensible language. 

He watched as his opponent bit back a curse and jumped out of the way of the first creature, but she was to slow to avoid the second jumping straight into its path. With a cry of joy the creature zoomed past her, wicked talons flashing, and he heard her cry out in pain. Its claws had opened three parallel gashes on her upper thigh, rending the cloth of her breeches assunder and laying open the pale flesh beneath. Andaleth didn't let up, the Imps were doing their work marvelously, and taking a deep breath he reached once more into the well of fel power. A whirling gale of flame erupted between his outstreched palm and with a wordless grunt of effort he sent the torrent of flame in his oppenents direction.


----------



## Lord Ramo

Azreal watched as Rakarth took a step back, moving away from him. Azreal stood still, both hands on his sword as he watched Rakarth, waiting for his next trick. It was time for Azreal to apply more of his skill, to finish this battle once and for all. He watched curiously as Rakarth tilted his head to one side, a smile upon it. Azreal raised his weapon into a deceptively defensive stance, that would actually be more aggressive than he had been fighting before.

Rakarth brought his left sword into a reserse grip and placed the two ends of the swords together and twisted with an audiable click resounding over to Azreal. Obviously he had just combined his two blades to make a double edged blade, and would most likely adopt an aggressive stance with it. While he had fought people wielding staffs before, this was a first for him, and he wondered how Rakarth was going to attack and defend with his weapon.

Rakarth stepped forward and like lightning struck Azreal's left rib with the flat of his blade, Azreal watching his movements took the hit so he could study how best to defeat his opponent. Azreal stepped back and watched as Rakarth kept his blade moving constantly around his body, a most interesting trait.

*"Navanash, its time for me to end this little dance. He has made a grave mistake in his new weapon, if I get close enough, he won't be able to block all my attacks and will make it much easier for me to block any of his attacks."* Azreal sent triumphantly across to his little companion.

"Good, whilst your fighting style befits a Paladin, I was getting bored of this little training session. While I do like watching you win, I want to do something myself." Navanash sent back at him quickly, Azreal smiling at his companion before leaping forward to the awaiting Dark Elf.

His opponent brought his blade round to meet him in mid air, but Azreal with his lightning fast reactions brought himself under the bladed strike. His blade hit his opponents right rib, exactly opposite to were he had been hit a mere moment before. He carried on with his momentum to get behind his opponent, striking at his leg with his blade, but only meeting his opponents bladed staff weapon as his opponent reacted to being hit. 

The two elves moved faster, and with much more grace than any human could achieve, and both reacted to each others attacks and defences. Azreal stayed close, flowing seamlessly from one attacking style into another, forcing his opponent onto the defensive, where it was much harder for him to react to Azreal's skills. Azreal levelled the score when his opponent tried to counter attack, but due to the close proximity of the two of them, and the speed in his reactions he was able to block and quickly counter, hitting him on the right shoulder.

He could sense his opponent getting more and more frustrated with him, attacks didn't touch Azreal as he twisted and danced away, before coming straight back on the attack, blade whirling as it sought out any hole in his opponents defence. Azreal ignored all distractions, the sounds coming from the other training cages sounded distant to him as he focused on his attacks, knowing exactly where he would land his blade in the air before he attacked again.

Azreal dodged a frenzied strike from his opponent before he blocked the strike of the other end of the bladed staff, sliding across the training cage to hit his opponent in the back of the knee and then his back as he stood, whirling to strike the back. Azreal was firmly in the lead now and would carry on to do so, determined not too loose this fight.

He kept up his attacks, constantly applying pressure to Rakarth, and when he was forced onto the defensive, moved quickly and skillfully. His opponent eventually stopped, weapons clicking as they came apart and dropped out of the circle. Azreal smiled and walked over to him. *"Well fought Rakarth, it will be a privilege if we can bout some other time, but now I must tend to my companion Navanash and find some food."* He sheathed his blade before walking over to Navanash and his helm.

*"Told you it was only a matter of time.*" He whispered, allowing Navanash to hop up to his shoulder before taking a hold of his helm and shield. "Pfft, if I had been fighting him it would have been over much quicker.Now lets go find us some food, I am starving." Mused his companion, causing Azreal to let out a quick laugh, before he looked over the training halls at his fellow students.


----------



## Rems

Jerome rapidly felt any chance of victory in trying to box the dwarven warrior fade as the stocky fellow simply took his punch on the chin and laughed. The knight’s spirit’s sunk even lower once he was on his knees trying desperately not to puke through his visor. As he knelt sucking in great breaths of air he waved his hang limply signalling defeat. 

“Wise choice” came the voice of Oberon into Jerome’s mind. Wry amusement was laced through the dragon’s words. “What choice?” shot back Jerome, “I’ve no chance... unarmed”. Oberon regarded Jerome with surprise and a little pride, he had managed to put his arrogance in check and accept the defeat, mostly. 

The dwarf chuckled at Jerome’s wavering arm, already knowing the young human would not be eager to fight on and scooped one thick arm under Jerome’s shoulder lifting him up, before roughly patting him on the back. 

“Ah that’s all right laddie, there’s no shame in losing to a dwarf”. Each of the dwarf’s hefty thumps sent Jerome’s armour ringing and he quickly stepped away from the dwarf’s commiserations. 

“I thank you for the lesson Sir dwarf” said Jerome courteously, wincing as he slightly bowed and pulled of his helm. “I believe i could do with that drink now” he continued, collecting his weapons and gesturing in the direction of the dining hall. The dwarf nodded in agreement. 

“Aye, that was the wager, the finest mug of mead to be found in these halls”. Winking conspiratoriy he added “though this clan are not famed brewmasters, far too serious you see, we’ll see what we can find”. 

“Mead sounds most agreeable” came Oberon’s voice surprisingly. Jerome and the dwarf looked at each other, then the small bronze dragon and laughed together.


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## komanko

It was dark, utterly and completely lightless, yet he was an elf, his senses were more acute then those of a human, he could use his ears to detect movement as well as to move. He had his hands to check the rugged walls and his instincts to guide his mind. He heard a curse in elvish being muttered and smiled, his plan was already beginning to work. This battle, it was more than a battle between two magic users, Avariss had to prove his worth in the eyes of another fellow magic users, one who thought him to be weak. It was as much a mental battle of wills as it was of magic.

Silently he walked, close to the pit’s walls, he could remember a faint picture of the training cage, he could guess based on it where his opponents originally was. The High elf fell silent, he heard incantations, they failed, she did not realize that it was more than a regular darkness which is so easily dispelled. It was a darkness straight from the void, it was as dark as it gets. Not many things could light such a shroud. Another curse. Avariss’s smile widened even further, with cruel mockery he said, “What is it? Afraid of the dark?”.

In retort the elf quickly sent several fireballs to random locations, he could hear the sound of flames lacerating the walls which they hit, he could smell the sulfur in those balls of fire. Suddenly he was caught off guard, he felt the warm tang of flames trying to embrace him with a deadly hug. He quickly dodged sideways, away from the heat source. It seemed that he was just as impaired as the elf was. Yet he still held the rough picture of the pit in his mind which meant he had a slight advantage.

Avariss crouched, his heart pounding with excitement and adrenaline, it was his first real magic battle, compared to the training battles he had while studying the arcane it was like a war. It felt so different, much more emotional, more primal. With one hand on the wall he moved in a circle, his hand caressed the wall, it was his only sure way to navigate. Suddenly he tumbled as something hit his leg causing him to stumble and fall forward. His face hit the ground lightly, he cursed in his mind, he held the pain inside not willing to give his location away through verbal use.

He heard rustling from nearby, the sound of four legs quickly moving away, the dragon, the damned dragon, instinctively he moved his head sideways, a second later cold pieces scattered across his cheek, his instincts save him from being hit. I seemed that he would have to use Gresh’Thoth as well if he was to win this contest. Without a single word Gresh’Thoth dropped from his shoulder, he could hear both the heads moving, sniffing. They would undoubtedly find his enemy, after all, two were better than one. In an effort to distract the elf he spitefully said, “Next time your wyrm comes close to me I will snap it’s neck.”, he then rolled to the left, another ice shard hitting his previous position.

He could not see in what angles the shards were traveling so he could not guess the position of the high elf, yet he would not be forced into a pathetic defensive position, as did the elf, Avariss gathered his fel energy, his eyes glowed with unholy fire which channeled into his hands, gathering enough fel power he released in a short burst of fireballs targeted in a cone in front of him. He didn’t stop to listen to any cry of pain and quickly moved forward avoiding any chance of being hit back. 

He would have to wait patiently, Gresh’Thoth will have to find his enemy, and together they shall crush him. He decided to move to the other side of the wall, if he moved too much forward he was risking ending up too close to the high elf. He could try and remove the shroud of darkness, it would surely confuse his target for a moment, the bright lights would blind her as well. If he would close his eyes he would adjust more quickly to the sudden change of lightning. Now was not the time, he should use this move only if he was moving in for the kill, or in this case, victory, after all, he did not have any intention to kill his opponent, though others did…


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## Yru0

As Aseer lunged towards his oponent, the man twisted elegantly aside, fully expecting Aseer's assault; for a split second, Aseer condescended himself for making such a basic error, yet a flash of blinding light and pain wiped any thoughts from his mind. The sudden blow knocked Aseer flat on his back and semi-conscious; however, instinct took over, and the archer rolled himself aside just as the game-ending blow clattered on the floor, not centimeters from Aseer's wrist.

Rising unsteadily onto his feet, Aseer shook his head and rose his hands to fend off any other possible attacks. He found his opponent standing easily on the opposite side of the ring, his blade held loosely in his grip and a slight smirk printed on his face. Within a moment, the man once more lept towards Aseer, determined to fiinish the fight, whilst Aseer was still dazed, with another resounding blow to the head, who had no intention of allowing the blade to follow through. Aseer, running purely on adrenaline and instinctive training, saw his opponent shift his weight for the leap, and then again to deliver the fatal blow, it all seemed to occur in slow motioin, the beating of Aseer's heart, or the pounding in his head, the only sound. Deftly side-stepping into the blow, Aseer took the side of the blade into his armpit, immediately clamping his arm over the weapon despite the sudden searing pain as it cut into the flesh beneath his arm. In a single fluid motion, Aseer twisted so his body around, moving towards his shocked opponent, the suddenness of his actions defying any reaction; the momentum of Aseer's twist quickly transfered to his arm and a loud _crack_ burst from his opponent's forehead, as the hilt of Aseer's blade connected.

He came too with Aseer standing over him, an arm extended and a devilish grin on his face, "You seem to have something on your face" mentioned Aseerm gesturing towards his forehead. The man laughed painfully at the irony as the adrenaline faded away and the throbbing in his head became noticeable, and he noticed his blade lying on the floor.

OOC: I think I might've pushed the limit of 'god-modding' in this post, if so, I can change it.


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## revan4559

Andaleth Your opponent looks from the imps towards you then back to the imps again then jumps back and takes her staff in both hands before the entire length of it erupts into purple flames before slamming it end first into the ground infront of her with the noise of a thunder bolt striking the earth as a wall of purple flame erupts inbetween her, the imps and your own flames stopping them all where they are before two ice blue eyes can be seen through the flames as something pulls itself from the violet fire. It stands at seven feet in height with a roughly humaniod shape completely bare of all features save for its talon like hands and spines erupting from shoulders and horns from its head ( http://www.theskyfullofdust.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/MM35_PG196.jpg ) , stepping forward it snatches up one of the imps with ease and with a flex of its hand crushes the tiny daemon into orange sparks as it banishes it back to the void. The void creature then swings its head to look at you and starts to make its way over to you with long loping strides ignoring the remaining imp which has no run behind you and is cowering behind your left leg. It seems that this warlock has more control over the void creatures it summons than you do.

Aseer Your opponent places one hand on his forehead and rubs it before looking back up at you before giving a small smile as one of his feet lashes out and kicks you square in the place no man should ever want to be kicked which inturn makes you stagger backwards and drop to your knee's cursing to the seven human gods while your opponent rolls away from where he was laying and snatches up his blade before turning around to look at you with a smile on his face. Stepping forward his sends the flat of his blade through the air and catches you on the left bicep almost knocking you over onto your side and from there you manage to pull yourself away from your opponent and stagger to your feet with your blade still in your right hand and while the pain is slowly starting to ease away you have some problems when it comes moving around the training circle. After a few minutes of blocking your opponents strikes you are able to move freely again and you realize that now is the time to finish the dual so you can sit down and have a rest along with maybe getting something to eat. (Free reign in what you wish to do.)

Azreal: You look around to see that there are two magic wielders within on cage summoning foul creatures from the void and instantly recognise them as Daemons and their summoners being the foul black art users known as Warlocks, knowing this it makes you want to spit on the ground but you guess Lord Modeus would end up making you clean the entire training room floor for doing it so for now you decide not to and look at the other apprentices and see that the human knight who fough the dwarf is not holding his stomach and you can hear them talking about beer...perhaps you could have some company while you eat? Next there is a cage filled with darkness where you can sense magic being used and finally there is a human archer fighting a swordsman and holding his own against him, perhaps these apprentices could be the ones your meant to join but for now you focus on getting your dragon some food so make your way over to the dwarf and human knight and greet them where the dwarf looks up at you with a smile on his face and bellows: "Greetings pointy-ear! I saw that you won your bout against Mr tall, grim and silent there! Maybe we could have a session in the training cages when your recovered?". (Pretty much free reign, feel free to talk to Jerome aswell.)

Jerome As you and the dwarf make your way to the dining hall you are joined by a tall elf wearing silvery white armour with long blonde hair and upon looking at the elf's features you determine that he is one of the High Elves though you dont really know much of why there are three different races of elves when they all look alike apart from hair, eye and skin colour. Perhaps you could ask this elf about the differences between the: High, Dark and Wood elves as it is something humans really know nothing about, before you are able to say anything the dwarf beside you starts to bellow out a greeting and challange, "Greetings pointy-ear! I saw that you won your bout against Mr tall, grim and silent there! Maybe we could have a session in the training cages when your recovered?". After the elf gives his reply you see that his dragon is currently sat upon his shoulder staring at you before it turns its attention to look down at your dragon and the dwarves dragon and the three of them stare intently at each other as they seem to be holding their own conversation which none of you three can hear. Now is the time to introduce yourself to this new comer and make your way to the dining hall to get something to eat and drink. (Pretty much free reign, feel free to talk to Azreal aswell.)

Avariss: OOC: As your busy im not sure if you want me to update for you so ill pm and and edit in a update if you have time to post.

Daniel: OOC: See previous update.


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## Yru0

Seraphim winced and covered her eyes with her wings as Aseer swore, cursing to the seven gods almighty, let their eternally vigilant eyes be spared the horror of witnessing a grown man scream like a high pitched little girl as he is struck. Stumbling backwards, hands clapsed protectively around the said mentioned part of his body, Aseer glared at his opponent, the pain causing his temper to flare, it was then that he noticed the archer once more held his weapon in a combat stance and was lunging in the attack. 
"It was till disarmament damn you!" growled Aseer as he desperately blocked the rapid assault, receiving only a wink and a malicious grin from his opponent; ohh, the man was enjoying this! Let him wait until Aseer took his weapon from him once more, then he would be in for a world of vengeance. Noticing that the man was wincing a shaking his head slightly between attacks, Aseer realized that his opponent had not yet fully recovered from the blistering head wound Aseer had inflicted, if he was to end the fight it would have to be soon. Aseer was finally feeling movement return to the battered regions of his body, and let a grin slip onto his face as he prepared to go on the offensive.

His strikes were meant to appear random, forcing his opponent to give up ground and energy in order to block the heavy handed attacks; gone was the rapid, fluid scratches of before, now Aseer simply hammered away at his opponent's sword, forcing him to use up his last reserves of energy trying to keep his weapon up rather than exposing the sluggish nature of the assault. Eventually, the man was backed into a corner, and Aseer saw his eyes glance frantically around the sparring cage, looking for some forlorn oppurtunity to escape the wrath of the archer. The signs were all there, and he was begginning to make mistakes, a poorly held block here sent a shock down the man's arm as Aseer struck a blow, and the resulting numb feeling caused his defense to be sluggish, and Aseer managed to land a heavy blow to the man's side, forcing the wind out of him. With a roar, Aseer tackled his opponent to the ground, both attempting to wrestle each other's sword from their grip, both pairs of eyes locked with intent and conviction. Blows were exchanged, but hardly any were felt as the last spur of adrenalin flooded the fighters' systems; Aseer soon had the upperhand and felt his opponent's grip on his sword loosen, if only he could just keep up the pressure for a few..more..seconds...

When suddenley, a stupendous BANG! erupted from one of neighbouring cages, and a titanic flash of light flooded the room, swiftly followed by a wave of intense heat. Aseer turned to witness the hulking form of a demonic being stalk forth from the raging inferno cast by Andaleth's opponent, the monstrosity dwarfing the walock and casting aside his comparatively pitiful servants, before taking its first thunderous steps towards its target. 
Both combatants had stopped mid-fistfight, mouths agape at the sudden outburst of fel magic which was swiftly transforming the nearby spar into a warzone, both glanced at each other, but Aseer acted first, ripping out his opponent's sword from his lax and unexpecting grip, before pounding him once more on his badly bruised forehead, knocking him out cold on the floor. 
Standing, finally feeling the pain of the exertion he had committed during the battle, Aseer spoke triumphantly to the unconscious form beneath him, "Disarmed twice, just be glad I didn't aim lower." It was then that he felt the pain of that blow returning, and he quickly stalked out of the cage, calling out to any of the resident dwarves that could here him, "Oi! Someone fetch the bloody ice - please?"


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## Midge913

As his fireball rocketed toward his opponent, he watched as her gaze flicked from the two imps that circled her head, swooping in as they thought she wasn't paying attention, razor sharp claws slashing at her. As she jumped backwards, dodging out of the way of a diving imp, she took her staff in both hands and raised it high in the air. Purple flames erupted along its length and Andaleth felt the surge of Fel magic coalesce around her. Andaleth winced at the noise, the booming crash of thunder accompanying her slamming the butt of her staff to the ground, the motion causing a wall of bright purple flames to erupt in front of her, catching Andaleth's sphere of flame and dissipating it. 

Cursing, Andaleth began to draw on his magic, intending to summon more imps to assist him when his attention was seized by a shape that had started to form in the wall of flame. It was as if the fire was drawing in on itself, drawing together in a vaguely humanoid shape. _"Beware Andaleth,"_ Sirrush shouted across the bond, _"she summons a creature of the void to aid her! Calm and center yourself. Focus on our connection, I will help fuel your spells." _

Andaleth took a deep breath, drawing air in through his mouth, breathing slowly out of his nose as he concentrated on his bond with his drake. The pulsing white light in the corner of his mind, the one that he had come to identify with his dragon, began to throb ever faster as to his eyes felt as if time slowed. The strength of it, fueled by his focus, his desire and Sirrush's melding their strengths to defeat this foe. He was unsurprised as his heart began to beat in time with the pulsing light and, whether it was in his mind or in actuality, he felt his strength grow. He felt his control increase. He felt the uncontrollable tide of Fel magic within him form into a well, a steady flow of magic that he could shape and use. His fear of it gone, his caution still there, but the fear, the debilitating terror of his abilities melted away in that moment. He felt he could do anything and knew that he could form that magic to achieve anything he wanted. He watched as the flames roared, but their movement sluggish, slow enough that he could distinguish individual tongues of fire amongst the roaring conflagration. He watched as his imps sailed back toward him, cries of terror escaping their twisted lips as they rushed to escape the form growing in the center of his opponents purple flames. 

The passage of time snapped back to normal as a shadowy arm flashed out of the flames, snatching one of the imps from the air with ease. Following the arm, a creature of the void, tall, imposing, stepped from the wall of fire, its featureless visage turning in Andaleth's direction, its glowing eyes startlingly similar to the warlock that controlled it. Its wicked taloned fingers flexing with inhuman strength, it crushed the life from the Imp trapped in its vice-like grip. It wailed as it died, a flash of orange sparks flaring as it was banished back to the void that it had been summoned from. Slowly, ponderously, the Void Creature turned its massive body, its head towering above him, forcing Andaleth to tilt his head up, even from across the practice cage, to lock his eyes on the creature of darkness. 

He knew what he must do. He knew that his spells alone would not be able to kill this terror and something told him that he did not want to engage it in close combat himself. The very idea of those long, powerful fingers touching him made his skin crawl. The last time he had tried this he had been filled with rage, hatred, and fear. But this time he knew he could do it, this time he was centered, calm, focused on the threat at hand. As the beast took its first leaden step in his direction, he focused on the magic that coursed through him. Shaped it into the form he desired and before him an oval of darkness appeared, a doorway into the void, a portal through which his own beast of shadow would emerge. In the darkness beyond the plane of the oval, a reverberating roar rang out, causing the other void beast to pause in its advance, its body tensing blazing eyes narrowing as it watched the void portal. 

Andaleth smiled as a massive arm, wrist adorned with a heavy golden bracer, ending in a clawed hand reached out of the inky blackness, searching for its quarry. A huge, hulking, hunched creature pulled its way out of the portal, its lower extremities wreathed in shadow, its eyes blazing with furious orange light. From its skin rose a strange orange tinged mist, the same mist as the Imps had expelled, the manifestation of his magic, the very essence of the arcane power that he used. Lurching forward as the rest of its body emerged into Andaleth's world, it gave the other Void creature no warning, no indication of its attack, as it raked its heavy hand across the things chest, purple light flaring from the wounds it rent there. His opponent's creature screamed in rage and surprise as it reacted to the pain of the wound and attempted to bat Andaleth's Walker to the side, the blow causing his own beast to stumble to the side, its own thunderous roar answering its opponent's challenge. With a surge of powerful motion, the two beasts of the void launched themselves at each other, claws flashing, muscles bunching in effort as they grappled, each intent on the others destruction. 

Andaleth was in control, none of the rage and anger that he had felt during his last summoning even crossed his mind and he felt Sirrush's satisfaction at his accomplishment. As Sirrush's pride flared across the bond, so did a surge of magic swell inside of Andaleth. He felt the need to channel it, to use it, and in his mind a spell, one that he had never used before flashed. He did not feel the need to utter the words, but he fed them, funneled his magic into the intent that they described. Andaleth's eyes flared, wicked orange light bathing the scene of the titanic battle between the creatures of the void with its eerie light, and he felt the magic flow out of him. From his outstretched hands roiling columns of flame swirled, each thicker than a man's waist. He spun, instinctively, forming a protective ring of fire around him. He fed it until it was almost waist high, in a circle about 10 feet across, shielding him from the female warlock's beast should it defeat his own. 

As he cut off the spell, nodding in satisfaction at the way the new spell worked, he felt the beginnings of fatigue. He knew that all this spell work would eventually take its toll on his body, that soon exhaustion would set in. At the same time he was determined to win, determined to prove to his companions that he had skills, that he was worth something. His mind sought some way to lessen the drain on his energy, to wield the magic he need to win the fight without exhausting himself, but his musings were brought to an abrupt end as his own void walker slammed into the side of the cage, the other warlock's beast leaping ontop of it, claws flashing, brilliant multi-colored sparks flying as its claws rent his own beasts flesh. His own beast seemed pinned, but Andaleth focused his attention, funneling some power into the creature he controlled, its arm shot up, catching the talon that flashed towards its face, stopping it cold, the boost of power fueling its otherworldly strength. Its other hand flashed out, ripping muscle and flesh from the underside of the arm it had pinned, causing the creature to howl in pain as Andaleth's Walker flung the beast off. 

As his own beast rushed back on the offense, Andaleth was struck with an idea, he reached out, scooped a handful of the flames dancing in the circle around him into his grasp, and with a wordless grunt of effort he launched it at the other warlock. Even though she was tensely watching the fight between the void beasts, she rolled out of the way and as she came up Andaleth saw that there was sweat on her brow, her face screwed up in concentration. As her control wavered Andaleth's Walker gained more of an upper hand on its own foe. Andaleth found that this method of launching fireballs was less taxing as it used far less energy to maintain the ring of flame than to summon fire from nothing. He began to use that to his advantage, launching handfuls of fire culled from the ring around him at the other warlock, forcing her to maintain concentration on him. As the opportunity presented itself, he would launch a ball of fire at the Void Beast, careful not to strike his own. He was growing tired, but he hoped that his concentrated attack would prove too much for his opponent. Steeling himself, Andaleth locked his concentration on the bond that connected him to the creature he had summoned, willing it to fight on, and hoped that his strength would last.


----------



## Rems

Jerome walked through the twisting halls with his erstwhile opponent. He jingled with every step thanks to his war harness, though he barely noticed, so accustomed was he to the sound. He was rather less accustomed to his Gorgrim's monologue of his various drunken misadventures and tavern escapades. He positively missed such boasting however when the dwarf started regaling the young human with romantic tales in graphic detail; picturing short muscular women with beards was not a pleasant image. 

He was immensely relieved when the dwarf halted his latest obscene joke to hail an elf. The tall being had the look of a warrior, clad in bright armour much like Jerome was, though of a different style. Tall, fine featured, with luxuriant hair and pointed ears he was the picture of a fey elf. Jerome assumed from his civilised and not in the least ominous demeanour he was a High elf, not that the young noble knew much on the intricacies of elven civilisation. A brilliant white drake was perched upon the elf’s shoulder. They suited one another he thought, the dragon looked like a flawless marble statue come to life and it’s beauty matched the elven character. 

A shadow passed over his face however as he remembered an unpleasant encounter with another elf previously. The damned haughty bastard had a ridiculously thin skin and no sense of propriety. It had been a trying encounter to say the least. He hoped this elf would not be so damnedly difficult. 

As they drew near one another their dragons seemed to lock on one another, with pointed gazes and rigid postures. Presuming that the strange drakes were engaged in some kind of conversation Jerome attempted to speak with Oberon but received no answer. Shrugging it off he instead turned to the elf. 

“Hail Sir elf,” said Jerome, bowing politely, “My name is Sir Jerome Du’Savoi, son of the Lord Duke Savoi”. “Will you break your fast with us?”, he asked, gesturing to himself and the squat dwarf. 

“Break fast, pfha” spat Gorgrim, “We mean to drink pointy ears, the finest lager this hold can provide. It’s this one’s shout”, he continued, elbowing Jerome in the side with a conspiratorial wink. As always the dwarf spoke loudly. He had a voice that seemed to only vary from loud to bellowing. 

Jerome could only roll his eyes as he imagined the bar tab the dwarven warrior would be capable of racking up. Still, who else to finance a dwarf’s thirst than the son of one of the richest men in the kingdom? His father had always said he should put his wealth to good use; this was not what he likely meant. But then, when had his father’s wishes ever concerned Jerome, his had never seemed to concern his father. 

Another frown passed over the human noble’s features as he thought of his family, particularly his elder brothers. Not for the first time he silently ridiculed them. Soft men, one was bookish and far too interested in law and other scholarly pursuits than was healthy, one was a professional arse licker, or courtier as he described himself and the other was practically a damned merchant. Not a warrior’s bone in their collective bodies. How his noble lineage could have produced such wastrels Jerome could not conceive. What was worse was that his father seemed to encourage them, praise their efforts even. What did it matter how able they could administer the estates, or how well they negotiated the courts or how fairly they treated the disgusting peasants, if they could not swing a sword in defence of all that? The Savoi’s were warriors damnit not bureaucrats. 

He was snatched from his reverie by a back slap from Gorgrim, who had just told another dirty joke and was laughing with mirth. Smiling thinly Jerome turned his attention back to his stout companion and the new elven arrival.


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## Lord Ramo

Azreal turned away from the Dark Elf and his dragon he had just beaten. The Dark Elf had not said a word at the end of the fight, Azreal not knowing whether it was just his nature or he was incredibly annoyed that he had lost the fight to a Paladin and a high elf. It mattered not to Azreal, he didn't mind if the Dark Elf was smarting from his defeat, he had beaten countless foes in his time training to become a Paladin, though they were taught discipline that others lacked.

As he walked away he looked around the large training room. Even without looking he could tell that there were many Fel magic users here, the air was thick with their evil magic. Unconsciously his right hand slipped down to his sword hilt, and he gripped it though he didn't draw it. He had given Modeus his word, he had promised him that he would not harm any of his fellow trainees, even if they used Fel magic.

The urge was overwhelming though, it would be so easy for him to draw his blade and start attacking. Though he couldn't win against so many he would be able to take several with him and honor his oath as a Paladin. However this was not too be, Azreal calming himself as Navanash tail hit the side of his head. 

*"Put those thoughts out of your mind Azreal. You are a dragon rider now, the time for ridding the world of Fel will have to wait." *Azreal looked at his dragon before saying, *"Well my little friend you are right. I gave Modeus my word and I will honor it. Now lets get some food, I'm hungry after that bout and I am sure you are as well."*

As he made his way through the training room he came across a dwarf and a human knight, who was holding his stomach after losing his bout against the dwarf. 

"Greetings pointy-ear! I saw that you won your bout against Mr tall, grim and silent there! Maybe we could have a session in the training cages when your recovered?" The dwarf bellowed when Azreal came close to the two, the human looking the elf over, obviously seeing that he was a warrior before he introduced himself.

“Hail Sir elf,” said the knight bowing politely, “My name is Sir Jerome Du’Savoi, son of the Lord Duke Savoi”. “Will you break your fast with us?”

Azreal paused as he saw that their three dragons were obviously conversing with one another. He bowed his head slightly before replying to the two. *"Greetings master dwarf and Sir Jerome, I am Paladin Azreal Elthenash of the Silver hand order. I will accept your invitation to break fast, though I think I should probably stay away from the drink on the account of how much I had last night."* He replied politely as he strode alongside them towards the dining hall. 

*"Anything that gets me away from those users of Fel magic can only be a blessing."* He said lightheartedly as they strode away, though he couldn't help but think of all the evil within these walls.


----------



## revan4559

Everyone:

It has been a full year since your coming to High Dragon hold and finally discovering what it means to become an apprentice of High Lord Modeus, the First Rider. Each one of you has started down the journey to become a member of the Dragon Riders, an order created by Modeus to aid each race in its struggle against the creatures of the Dark Lands and wild dragons that torment their cities. Upon arriving you were given the choice of dragon eggs to choose from that will be your constant companion throughout your apprenticeship, for the time you are a Dragon Rider and more importantly throughout the rest of your life. 

Over the last year you have watched your dragon grow from the size of a large cat to nearly your own height if not taller than yourselves. Your dragons have quickly developed their own personality which sometimes clashes with your own as they grow and explore their new world. While your dragons have grown and been taught about the wider world by the older more experience dragons such as Zar’tharon, Modeus’s own dragon, you too have been taught by Modeus about why the riders have been founded, what their goals are and his eventual hope to expand the riders from one base of operations to several throughout the known world.

In your time at High Dragon Hold you have learnt that while Modeus is the First Rider there are seven other fully fledged Riders who have already passed their apprenticeships and are now instructors to the younger apprentices as Lord Modeus can not train every single rider by himself. The instructors that have trained you over the last year focus in one aspect of being a dragon rider along with helping improve your own abilities should they match your own; Sir Mordred of the Order of the Crimson Blade is a Knight without equal who instructs you on how to fight from the back of Dragons along with training your own Dragons in how to fight monsters and other dragons. 

Lady Ley’ana belongs to the reclusive race known as the Wood Elves and even though you have been at High Dragon Hold for a year you have hardly seen her as she acts as Modeus’s eyes and ears out in the wider world and returns every so often to take new recruits out into the great forest surrounding High Dragon Hold for survival and archery training. 

Arjack Ironfist is one instructor all apprentices have little love for as he is more of a personal trainer than a true instructor, this deep dwarf has made you walk, run, job, sprint, lift weights, carry heavy packs and all manner of physical things for hours on end each day to increase your fortitude and strength. Though while most apprentices curse him his training is infact crucial as it will eventually prepare you for any battles that may take place in your future as a rider.

Tel’Alarian is the mysterious High Elf who spends most of his time inside of the great library pouring over all books for references to the ancients trying to discover their fate, on the occasion that he can be coaxed out of the library he is the one who trains all those adept in arcane magic to improve their skills and occasionally will help a Warlock get a better grasp on their power. Those who do not have any talents or access to the winds of magic have not even seen this reclusive white haired high elf and there is even a rumor amongst some apprentices that he is a myth.

While Sir Mordred is the one who trains you from the back of dragons, it is Lady Xerxia who trains you when you fight on foot. This Dark Elf Warrioress(not even sure that’s a word) makes a mockery of any opponent who goes up against her in the ring of blades and when you have faced her you spend most of your time flat on your back staring up at the ceiling with her blades placed at your throat. So far Azreal is the only one to have lasted long enough against her to gain any form of praise from this very aggressive woman.

Thadek Hammerhand is a Dwarven Paladin who spends most of his time giving spiritual guidance to those apprentices that need it along with answering any questions they may have about the order of the paladins and what exactly is their role. For the most part Thadek is more of an advisor to apprentices than an actually instructor though on occasion he has been known to sit in for Lady Xerxia, Lord Mordred and Arjack Ironfist should they have been set on a mission by the High Lord.

Andaleth : Over the last year you have spend most of your time with High Lord Modeus trying to find a ‘cure’ for the corruption that comes with being a warlock, training with Lady Xerxia to improve your blade work so you do not have to rely upon Fel Magic, working out under the strict régime of Arjack Ironfist to improve your stamina and had many a deep and philosophical discussion with your dragon Sirrush. As you put on your light chainmail shirt over your leather jerkin you look over to Sirrush where he is laid by the fire which gives his pure snow white scales an orange hue as he reads three books at once concerning the histories of the race of man. In the year you have had Sirrush you have watched him grow from the size of a small dog to now rival the size of the biggest warhorses bred by mankind and you know when he is fully stood on all fours your head just comes up to the top of his shoulders. Strapping your steel long sword to your belt you look over at Sirrush again and smile to yourself and remember that you were told within the next year of his life Sirrush will double in size once again and will then be breathing fire and being able to fly for long distances, but judging by the size he is now you and your fellow apprentices along with their dragons will be moving into larger living quarters to accommodate your dragons ever increasing size. 

As you look at Sirrush he turns his sleek white head and focuses his predatory ice blue gaze upon you before his voice echoes within your mind “We have been summoned by the High Lord have we not Andaleth for our first mission away from the hold, what do you think the Dragon Lord will be having us do?” You have time to answer Sirrush’s question with what ever thoughts you have on your first mission before you need to finish gathering your gear and heading to the great hall to meet Modeus. On the way to the great hall you have time for a pleasant conversation with Sirrush before you meet the man who has not only gifted you with such a legendary and fearsome companion but also though magical means extended your life beyond others of your race. (Catch me on msn or pm me and we can work out a convo with Sirrush)

Aseer : As you pull on your leather armour and pick up your bow you wonder to yourself what it is that Modeus requires of you and your fellow apprentices but while you think on what your first mission will be your mind shifts to recount the events of the last year and all the training you have done. You spend a good portion of your time out in the forest with Lady Ley’ana and those humans, dwarves and elves that had some skill in archery and tracking while she taught you which planets are fit to eat, can be lethal if ingested or can help cure poisons or illness along with hunting the deer and other larger game regularly to bring back to High Dragon Hold to feast upon. When you were not out in the wilds with some of the other apprentices you were back in High Dragon Hold being trained by Lady Xerxia to use your survival knife in combat, Lord Mordred who has taught you how to use your bow from dragon back without affecting your aim too much and Arjack Ironfist you has made you spend hours upon hours jogging around the entirety of the hold to increase your stamina. 

As you move to pick up your quiver of arrows you look at the form of Seraphim, whose dark orange and red scales now have some dark grey and black lines across her back which reminds you of the tigers that are said to live in the home of the wood elves. As you look over the now very large dragoness who is idly cleaning her claws with her long forked tongue her deep red eyes look up at you before she moves her snout away from her claws and stares at you like a wolf stares at a rabbit. “Something on your mind little one? You seem so lose in thought that you have missed three of the buttons on your leather jerkin.” The voice of Seraphim is very different to those other female dragons that you have met and conversed with as hers is more akin to that of an elven maiden constantly teasing everyone around her instead of old and motherly, as you continue to stare at Seraphim you cant help but remain amazed at the speed that dragons grow now that even laying down her shoulders are still well above the height of your head and remember being told different types of dragons age and grow at different speeds. You have time to talk with your dragon before moving to the great hall and meeting Lord Modeus for your first assignment and if you wished to you could most likely go in search of your fellow apprentices so that you could arrive as a group. You remember that Andaleth’s room is very close to your own so you could go and find him.

Azreal : You are currently two feet of the ground kicking your legs out and flailing with your arms as Narvanash has bitten onto the back of your chestplate and is currently holding you off the ground with his strong jaws and neck muscles before he starts to shake you left and right left a dog would do once it has gotten a hold of its favorite toy or if there was a rabbit in between its jaws. Today it seems that Narvanash is being rather playful and that the large white dragon is going to be ignoring anything you say now that you are fully armed and armoured with your shield across your back, sword at your waist and helmet upon your head. The dragon who is currently holding off the ground stands at seven feet in height at the shoulders with his short well muscled neck increasing his height by a few feet more and before you can order him to put you down he makes towards the door with lumbering steps as he seems intent on carrying you all the way to the great hall in this rather embarrassing manner and all you can do is hope that he gets tired of carrying you like this and puts you down though you doubt it as he four months ago he once helped you carry several book cases from the lower levels of the keep to the main library.

As Narvanash carries you all the way to the great hall passed other apprentices who start to laugh when you move passed them you try to block out the humiliation by recalling as much as you can of the last year and your training. You have spend some time with Thadek Hammerhand who like you is a member of the Order of paladins and has counseled you on your questions about what happens if the Order requires yourself and him to come to their aid to which he replied that you must uphold your oaths to the order along with those to the order of Riders and that he is sure Modeus would allow you to leave to aid them if needed. At other times you spent your time in the ring of blades being observed by other apprentices as you sparred against Lady Xerxia who is a rather severe woman who has never praised any of her students save you in a bout which lasted well over half and hour where you matched her blow for blow. You’ve even spent a good few hours in the company of Zar’tharon discussing the cause of the taint in the Dark Lands and if it can be reversed to which Zar’tharon thinks it can be just that no one has found out how exactly at the moment. As you continue to remember that has gone on over the last year you end up passing Sir Jerome and his dragon on the way and decide to converse with him on your way to the great hall.

Jerome : Having donned your armour and sword you are currently moving around your room dodging tail and claw swipes from Oberon as he helps you train in fighting dragons should you encounter any wild dragons on the mission that you will soon be sent on. You smile to yourself under your helmet as you look at the mighty young dragon that Oberon has become, his scales are now a mix between bronze, copper and gold with two impressive black horns jutting back from his skull. At his shoulders he stands eight feet in height and unlike most other dragons his age he is very bulky with thick powerful legs which could easily tear open your armour like a tin can if he wished though he is very good at judging his strikes most of the time though a few weeks ago he did slam you into the far wall of your room when he caught you square on the chest with his tail and the only thing that had saved you from having broken ribs was your old chest plate which now has a rather large dent in it.

After spending the following ten minutes continuing to practice against Oberon you take a few deep breaths to steady your heart beat and breathing before gathering up the rest of your gear and moving out into the halls with your dragon to go and meet Lord Modeus who is currently in the great hall. While walking along the corridors you have time to reflect on your training over the last year and smile that you have done very well in your lessons from Lord Mordred and Arjack though you can’t help but think you could improve to be able to gain some form of praise from Lady Xerxia who wipes the floor with you within the first five minutes of every lesson. While you carry on walking down the halls you hear another dragon approaching behind you and turn to see Narvanash carrying the paladin Azreal by the back of his plate armour as if he were some form of Kitten or Puppy and you can’t help but laugh at this and decide to accompany the paladin to the great hall. (Feel free to converse with Ramo’s character)

Avariss : You are currently stood with your hands on your hips frowning as you look at the state your room is in as Gresh’Thoth has clearly been searching for something and either found it or gave up before going to sleep on your bed. Looking at your bed you see that it has broken in the middle under the sheer wait of the dragon that sleeps on it was too much for it to handle, as your eyes drift over your dragon you can’t help but think how much of an oddity he is among his own kind as he is almost twice the size of other dragons of his age group along with having an extra head that is almost unheard of in the dragon species. You have spend many a long hour with Modeus and other warlocks within High Dragon Hold debating the affects of Fel corruption on dragons as Modeus revealed to you the information that Gresh’Thoth was infact the egg you yourself has found near the edge of the dark lands. As you continue to watch your dragon you see that he is laid on his back and releasing thick dark green smog from his nostrils and mouth which you have learnt is infact very toxin if inhaled so you place some cloth over your mouth before you wake up your lazy dragon.

Having woken up your dragon you finally manage to gather all the equipment you need before setting off through the winding hallways of the Hold to find your fellow apprentices and the High Lord for your first mission as Gresh’Thoth makes his lumbering way behind you swaying side to side as he still hasn’t fully woken up though you expect when he does he will not be happy with you and will most likely get you in between one of his set of jaws and shake you like a rag doll before throwing you against something. As you make your way through the long winding halls you reflect on all the lessons that you have been taught throughout the last year from your several different instructors; Modeus and Tel’Alarian have go some way in helping you hold back the physical corruption that comes with the use of Fel Magic and the voice has subsided to a low almost permanent whisper in the back of your mind though your chest and arms are slowly becoming covered with dark tattoo’s of an unknown nature to which you have no idea where they come from. The deep dwarf Arjack has been relentless and ruthless in making you train physically so you have to rely less on your Fel Magic and more on your own physical strength and with the help of Lady Xerxia you have become a moderate swordsman for someone who wasn’t trained from birth to wield one. 

Kilaren : You were out in one of the mountain side gardens grooming Aussir when the message for you to gather your belongings and to meet Lord Modeus in the hall came to you. You had just finished scrubbing the remaining dirt from Aussir’s golden scales and had stood back to admire your dragon in the early morning sun where she may aswell may have been a statue made entirely of the purest gold with two large emeralds set in as her eyes and the whitest ivory crafted to become her monstrous looking fangs. While you had groom your dragon you had smiled to yourself as you listened to Aussir make deep content rumbling noises akin to a cat purring as you groomed her and though neither of you had said anything to each other as you worked you knew there was a deep underlying bond between the two of you like there was between all dragons and their riders. While you had been grooming Aussir your mind had drifted to the events and training of the last year and a flash of pride raced through your mind as recalled how you had risen to each challenge full of determination to complete it to the best of your ability as if you were trying to make up for all you had done as ‘Kage’.

You remember your sparring bouts with Lady Xerxia who has beaten you within ten minutes each time you have stepped into the ring with her along with your training with the Azreal, the High Elf Paladin who has had something similar to a friendly rivalry with you and your sparring matches stand at 10 wins to yourself and 11 to Azreal. You recall spending many an evening drinking with Arjack and having arm wrestling matches with him each time you had drunk a little bit too much and had gotten a little cocky only to wake up the next morning with a head-ache that felt like a dragon had stood on you and with pains in your right shoulder from where Arjack always won. Within the last year you have also gotten very comfortable riding on dragon back and have been highly praised by Sir Mordred when it comes to fighting from the back of dragons who serve as mounts when your own was still too small and young and upon many an occasion Mordred has said that you should of joined one of the Knightly Orders with the skills that you possess. Turning your thoughts back to the present you watch Aussir push herself up from lying on the ground and stretch her wings and tail to full length before she wings her serpentine head to look at you. “Gather your things Little One, it is time for us to go and see the master of dragons to see where we shall be headed to in the world. Do be sure to pack plenty of provisions for we do not know how long the journey will be.” With that Aussir sits back down on her hind legs as she waits for you to gather up your equipment before she follows you through the halls to the Great Hall where Modeus awaits you.

Kell : You are already stood in the Great Hall of High Dragon Hold when Modeus sent out the call for the other apprentices in your group to gather for your first mission away from the Hold but since he send out the message Lord Modeus hasn’t said a world and has merely been staring into the scrying orb on the table infront of him with a frown upon his face that has made you slightly worried. Over the last year you have dutifully done what Modeus has asked you to do when he took you aside to speak to you in private and he has asked that you continue to do the same until you return from the mission that you will be given. As you stand there several feet away from the High Lord you cast your mind back over the last year of your training and try to work out if it has been enough to prepare you for that will soon be coming. You have been taught by Sir Mordred how to fight from dragon back just as the Knightly Orders do from the backs of their war horses with Sword and Lance. You have done your best to keep up with the grueling training régime (sp?) set by Arjack who has made all humans he has been teaching do even more physical work outs then the Elven and Dwarven apprentices and you expect this to be because humans aren’t as fast or as stronger as the ‘Elder’ races though for as much as you dislike Arjack you are grateful for him as he managed to fix the problem with your pistol having told you that before it was given to you it was repaired with “shoddy human work” and now your most prized possession fires without fail each time you have used it.

You are suddenly pulled away from the thoughts of the passed as your entire view of the world is turned upside down as you feel something clamp around your left boot and pull you into the air before you are shaken around like some form of doll. You catch glimpses of a purple-black serpentine neck and body holding you in the air and instantly know that Typhon is up to his usual tricks again and for the last year you have had to put up with him constantly attacking you and for the most part you have gained a sixth sense when it comes to evading him when it does such surprise attacks on you but only if you are paying attention to your surroundings. While you shout at your dragon to put you down you can’t help but admire Typhon as while he may not be as stocky and well build as other dragons he is still as impressive as they are; standing at nine feet in height from the tips of his claws to the tops of his shoulders and at ten feet in length from the tip of his tail to the end of his pointing snout you are reminded of the many long hours debating with other shadow dragon riders at how such large creatures can hide in even the smallest of shadows. Something which not even Modeus has been able to figure out and something none of the shadow dragons is willing to share with you, as you continue to shout at your dragon your attention shifts from Typhon to the many doors as your fellow apprentices enter and Typhon drops you down roughly on one of the tables.

Endras : You and Jadeus were out in the forests hunting that border High Dragon Hold and the mountains tracking a group of wild deer when you received the message from Lord Modeus that you were to gather all of your equipment and meet him and the other apprentices in your group inside of the Great Hall. Letting out a sigh as the messenger scared off the deer you were tracking you gather up the equipment you had taken with you and head back to your room in the Hold to gather the rest of your gear before you make your way with Jadeus towards the great hall. While walking to the great hall you can’t help but feel uncomfortable being underneath and entire mountain when just outside is a perfectly good forest to live in which you and your fellow Wood Elf apprentices agree on and spent most of your time out within the forest unless you have training to be getting on with. 

You then start to recall all of the training you have received over the last year and smile as you remember your survival instructor: Lady Ley’ana, a female wood elf with golden hair and deep green eyes who spends more of her time in the forest around High Dragon Hold then anyone else in the hold itself, you remember her reaching you how to tell the difference between the different sub-species of the creatures that life around High Dragon Hold and even schooling you on how best to use your archery skills from the back of a dragon in flight, something that Sir Mordred knows nothing about as he trains you in melee combat from dragon back. Other than survival and tracking training with Lady Ley’ana and physical training with Arjack you have had little interaction with the other instructors other than occasionally passing them in the corridors or only learning the most basic things they have to teach, though while you and the other wood elves are very solitary and mysterious you have had no interaction with the High Lord himself since you first met him and spend the first couple of weeks learning from him though other apprentices have. Letting out a small sigh you finally reach one of the sets of heavy iron doors that lead into the great hall and push them open before you stride inside the brightly lit room and take in the sight of your fellow apprentices and their dragons.

Salas : Like Kell you were stood inside of the Great Hall of High Dragon Hold though unlike your fellow apprentice you have been wrestling with your dragon Rolkaus as you waited for the other apprentices to arrive. Looking at Rolkaus as you wrestle with him you can’t help but think that bronze dragons are the dwarves of the dragon world being abit smaller than other dragons their age but are a lot heavily built with powerful leg, neck and tail muscles which allow them to shove pretty much anything out of their way save for another bronze dragon. Your moments distraction of thinking about all bronze dragons in general gives Rolkaus an opening to get his head flat against your chest and manages to flick you up in the air before he head butts into a chair as you start to fall back down to the ground. Letting out a deep belly wobbling laugh at your dragon’s antics you charge him and grab him around the neck to try and wrestle his head to the ground something which you know Arjack approves of greatly as he often wrestles with his own dragon to prove that he has superior strength and according to him its a lot better than lifting weights.

As you slowly manage to wrestle Rolkaus’s head to the ground you remember your training from Arjack that when wrestling dragons you need to outlast them and tire them out more than they can tire you out so you are able to force them to do what you want them to do, and while you do you best to do such you start to remember all your other training from your other instructors on how best to fight dragons as at some point it is very likely you may have to fight either wild dragons or corrupted dragons from the dark land. You remember Lord Modeus telling you that should you ever fight a dragon that you can get under then aim for the lower half of their necks and underside of their chest as the scales are weaker on their underside due to spending most of their time walking on all fours and laying on their stomachs which generally meant they could not be attacked from below and that dragons were often slain when they reared up and presented their underside. But before you are able to put any of your dragon slaying knowledge into effect during this wrestling match with your dragon several of the side doors open as your fellow apprentices make their way inside and start to gather infront of Modeus which means that you have to aswell.

Everyone: After having gathered in the great hall with your fellow apprentices you all gather in a rough semi circle around Modeus who is still gazing into his scrying orb with a frown and several minutes of uneasy silence pass by before Modeus stands upright and turns his attention to you all. “Thank you all for coming my apprentices, it is good to see you all have progressed well in your training and that your dragons are now at an age where they can be ridden even though they can not fly. Now I understand that you are all probably confused as to why I have summoned so many of you for a mission and it is because of your advanced abilities and the size of your group that I have chosen to send you off on this one.” Modeus takes several steps back before he leans back slightly to sit on the edge of a table as his gauntleted fingers grip the edge of it so tight it cracks the ancient oak.

“Several hours ago I received a message from a mage currently living in a dwarven mining town high up in the Kel’Karadorn Mountains that border the lands of Narg’Aron and the plans of Az’Neldaren. According to this mage there was a sizable force of Orcs besieging the town and that the dwarves that live there are sorely pressed for aid from the holds near by as according to reports there has been a large Orc incursion from the dark lands into the mountain passes. While normally this wouldn’t be a problem and I’d leave the dwarven Lords and Thanes to the defense of their realm this presents itself as a perfect opportunity for the Dragon Riders to flex their muscles and show that we will not stand for attacks on the free lands of Em’Ralden.” Modeus looks at each one of you and you can see his chest swell with pride along with your own before he casts his gaze back down to the ground and his tone becomes some what darker.

“However there is something that troubles me about this attack, it seemingly came out of nowhere and while the Orc race has now devolved into something barbaric and brutal there is no reason for them to be that high in the mountains or attacking a mining town for that matter. I have the feeling they are being driven by some dark master to do his bidding to prepare for a war against the free lands. While you are fighting the Orcs and helping the villagers I want you to look for any signs of this potential dark master and report back to me as soon as you are able.” Modeus pushed himself off of the table and strode to stand in the center of all of you meeting your gaze as he looked between those gathered. “I have every faith in you and will be monitoring you as best I can though for some reason attempts to scry in the area that has been attacked has been difficult so if I do not hear from you within a week of you arriving then ill send one of the full riders to make sure everything is fine, the overall journey should take about a two weeks to get there and two weeks to get back. Now that you have been briefed and that you have all the equipment you will need I wish you good luck my apprentices and eagerly await your return with good news.” With that Modeus bows to you before he leaves the Great Hall to deal with other matters.

Moving from the Great Hall to the outer gate of High Dragon Hold you make a quick stop as you step foot onto the dirt road that leads out into the forest north and towards the mountains to put your custom made saddles on your dragons and mount up onto their backs though the dwarves in the group require some assistance from the others due to being hampered by height issues. After mounting up on your dragons your group starts to make its way along the forest path between the dense tree’s as you head north towards the mountains and where your mission will take you, some of you may be speaking with each other while others may be quietly reflecting on your mission or perhaps you are quietly conversing with your dragons?

After two hours of traveling all of your dragons seem to slow their pace and either raise their heads or lower them to the ground as their nostrils flare, taking in the scents of the forest around them. Should any of you ask what why you have stopped and what it is that your dragons smell you receive no answer from them though you can each feel the muscled of your dragon under you tense in anticipation for something. For several long moments all is deathly still until a whistling noise is heard and a black feathered arrow slams into Sir Jerome’s shield and he cackling laughter and howling is heard from all around you. As one your dragons shout the names of your foes straight into your mind as the tall hunched, furred and armoured forms of your attacks charge straight out from between the tree’s towards you. “Gnolls!”.

It is up to you how you react to this, obviously you can try to form some form of defense or charge off into battle to kill the gnolls. Im going to say you can not kill more than 7 gnolls between yourself and your dragon and for your post you have free control over your dragon in the battle. 

Gribeard, Romera and Spiltpaw: I haven’t updated for you yet as I need to know the colour, name and gender of your dragon before I can do an update for you. PM that information or post it in the recruitment thread and ill add you in this update as soon as I can.


----------



## Malochai

Endras stood on the thick branch, at the top of an ancient redwood tree, eyes closed and listening to the sounds of the forest around him. A content smile appeared on his face as the birds song, the snuffling of badgers in the undergrowth and myriad other sounds reached his ears, but the one he wanted to hear was absent. After nearly an hour of statuesque stillness his face started to slowly show a frown, but the sound still eluded him. Shaking his head, the elf opened his amber eyes and looked at the sky above him, and then looked down. Looking back at him was Jadeus, wearing what Endras was certain would be a smug smile on his face. Exasperation crossed the wood elf’s face for a second, but then he smiled brightly, shaking his head and clambered down, from branch to branch, until he was only thirty feet from the ground. 

*“How long were you there this time, then, Little One?”* He asked, face still bright. The thought of going any longer without the wyrm was disturbing, and he shuddered at it, the action causing Jadeus to cock his head to the right questioningly before he answered. Endras shook his head and gestured at the dragon.

*“Long enough to wonder when you would give up.”* A hint of smugness was obvious in his voice, lyrical and honeyed as it was, before the dragon’s snout twitched once, then again. This time it was Endras who looked questioningly at his companion, seeing the hunger twinkle in Jadeus’ eyes. The dragon nodded, *“Deer. To the west.”* A forked tongue flickered from his mouth, tasting the air. *“Eight?”* 

With a gesture, Endras gave his assent and the dragon began to slink through the trees with a grace that the elf matched as he leapt from bough to bough. After a quarter mile, he joined his companion on the ground, following the animal tracks with the skill only a wood elf could hope to gain. A mile after that, Jadeus stopped mid-stride, and Endras nearly collied with him, spinning out of the way and landing in a crouch, arm stretched for balance. His armour blended seamlessly with the undergrowth. Agilely, the elf clambered up a tree until he overlooked a small glade, clad in emerald grass, plants of all colours crowning it, and he saw the deer. A quick head count revealed nine, and he shook his read, remembering to mention that to Jadeus after the hunt. 

He grasped his longbow, supple yew moulded to his hand, deer sinew bowstring familiar to the touch, and then drew an arrow. He ran a critical eye over it to look for imperfections in the wood and fletching, and found it acceptable. Arrow knocked, bow drawn, Endras looked down at Jadeus, who was staring at him unblinkingly. A nod and the dragons gaze shifted to the prey, as did the elf’s. At the bottom of his vision he saw Jadeus crouch, tensed and ready for the leap, and then he heard a noise from not far away. He tried to ignore it, to focus on the shot, but the deer froze. The arrow was shot, but a moment too late; the prey was gone, disappearing into the forest in a matter of seconds. 

A roar echoed amongst the close trunks of the wood, and Jadeus clawed at the ground in anger. Sharing his anger, Endras swiftly made his way to the forest floor and placed a placating hand on the graceful neck of the dragon, feeling heat through the scales. Another _crash_ sounded, and without a doubt the elf knew it wasn’t one of his kin who wandered the woods; only a human or dwarf could move with such noise. He frowned; it was unlike any of the other races to enter the woodlands unless necessary unless Lady Ley’ana was with them, and she wouldn’t allow such blatant movements. Eventually, a human fought his way out of the trees, batting aside clinging branches and vines shamelessly. Frowning even more, Endras stared at him, irritation showing in his eyes, until the man stopped and, seeing he’d found whom he was looking for, looked suddenly nervous, feet shuffling awkwardly. 

*“Ahhem,”* he began, clearing his throat, *“Lord Modeus requests that you return to the Hold. Immediately.”* The elf continued glaring at him until he had the grace to look apologetic and began to awkwardly walk backwards, until he stumbled over a thick, knotted root. 

Sighing in regret at the loss of the hunt, Endras scoured the clearing until he found his arrow, half the shaft buried in the loamy earth. Jadeus growled dismissively, flicked his tail, and started to move off after the deer, nose twitching, until Endras caught up with him and once more placed his hand on his neck. *“Not this time, little one. Our Lord calls upon us, and we must respond. Soon, though. We’ll hunt again soon.”*

--------------------------------------------------​
The two travelled back to the red wood in an easy silence after that, although Endras could tell Jadeus despised being called like a dog to the keep; they both preferred the open spaces of the woodland at the foot of the mountain - when they were there, they were alone, lords of their own spaces. Other elves, and their wyrm companions, hunted as well, but each had their own territory, content to leave the others to their own devices. The red wood was the heart of Endras and Jadeus’, a safe place for Endras‘ items and the kills that Jadeus‘ didn’t fully consume. 

It wasn’t long until they were there, and the elf was scaling the thick bark of the tree to where he stored the equipment he didn’t care to carry; after all, he was a ranger, used to and perfectly capable of living off of the forest. The only thing he carried were a few poultices and potions in case of dire emergencies. He didn’t even take his sword with him, strapping the belt around a branch. Gathering these items, he then swung back down the branches to where he was awaited. Landing lightly on his feet, he smiled at his companion reassuringly before they started the trek back their lord’s domain, but despite the limited time he spent their, Endras couldn’t help but grimace at the unnatural place, *‘None of our kind should be so enclosed. The woodland is our realm, and always will be.’*

--------------------------------------------------​
The walk through the woodland was as familiar to the elf as the palm of his hand after the last year of training, and his mind drifted as he walked the well-trodden dirt path which later broadened and joined with the main approach to High Dragon Hold. The sounds of the forest caused him to reminisce of the long hours spent out here, in the wilds, with Lady Ley’ana, her hair shimmering like molten gold in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the boughs overhead, her eyes like emeralds set into a face of timeless beauty. She was at one with the land, able to detect the slightest differences in species, in fauna and flora; the Lady taught him things he hadn’t even learnt during a century in Ela’Amnor, so great was her skill - looking back over all he learnt was a huge task in itself. And then his hand subconsciously brushed the arrows nestled in the quiver at his hip, and he thought to how his marksmanship had improved as well. *‘No,’* he thought, correcting himself, *‘My stationary marksmanship was always as accurate. It is whilst mounted on Jadeus I have improved.'* Nodding to himself thoughtlessly, the elf’s thinking wandered to Sir Mordred and his intense training sessions, after which both wyrm and elf wanted nothing more than to retreat to the woodland realm, muscles aching. Beyond that the only instructor he had truly trained with was Arjack, the physical training feeling like it would cripple him to begin with, but now just leaving him with a sense of dull resignation. *‘And then there was Modeus ...’* Of course, that had only been for the first few weeks, before he moved off onto his other areas of study with his more specialised instructors. 

Eventually, his lithe form stood before the main gates of High Dragon Hold, and he waited patiently for Jadeus to emerge before making the final approach, where the dwarven guards let him past without a word; the dragon accompanying him his pass. Moments after he’d crossed the threshold of the dragon rider’s home, a deep sense of unease settled over him; the feel of rock above and all around unnatural. With a sad glance back at the golden sunlight through the door, he shook his head and rested his palms on the heavy doors; thick set iron plate, cool to the touch, and sighed once before straining his muscles and pushing them open. *‘Maybe the hours with Arjack were worth it,’* he pondered momentarily, before shaking his head, clearing it of unnecessary thoughts as he strode confidently, more confidently than he felt, into the large hall, lit by the power of dozens of torches set in iron brackets against the wall. More apprentices were gathering, but he was amongst the first, and a number of young dragons with them, each stood next to or near their companion. Jadeus let out a low sound, almost halfway between a growl and an avian mewl, and Endras’ hand once more found itself on his neck, making small, placating circles on the scales. The dragon liked being underground just as much as Endras did.
*“Come, little one, the sooner we hear what Lord Modeus has to say, the sooner we can return to the hunt.”* A small grunt of disbelief purred from the green wyrms throat, but both put it out of their mind as they joined the forming semi-circle around their lord and master, waiting for him to speak. 

*“Thank you all for coming my apprentices, it is good to see you all have progressed well in your training and that your dragons are now at an age where they can be ridden even though they can not fly. Now I understand that you are all probably confused as to why I have summoned so many of you for a mission and it is because of your advanced abilities and the size of your group that I have chosen to send you off on this one.”* The crack of the antique oak table was audible to Endras’ sensitive elven ears, and he raised an eyebrow, and shared a quick glance with Jadeus some of the other apprentices. Something had clearly gotten to Lord Modeus. Subconsciously holding his breath, he waited for the revelation. *“Several hours ago I received a message from a mage currently living in a dwarven mining town high up in the Kel’Karadorn Mountains that border the lands of Narg’Aron and the plains of Az’Neldaren. According to this mage there was a sizable force of Orcs besieging the town and that the dwarves that live there are sorely pressed for aid from the holds near by as according to reports there has been a large Orc incursion from the dark lands into the mountain passes. While normally this wouldn’t be a problem and I’d leave the dwarven Lords and Thanes to the defense of their realm this presents itself as a perfect opportunity for the Dragon Riders to flex their muscles and show that we will not stand for attacks on the free lands of Em’Ralden.”*

The look Modeus gave all of them went some way to buoying Endras’ shock at the proclamation; such an attack was rare, and although he had no love for the dwarves and their rocky halls, he had comrades, maybe even friends, amongst them here at High Dragon Hold who could have kin there, and his dislike for orcs ran even deeper. *“However there is something that troubles me about this attack, it seemingly came out of nowhere and while the Orc race has now devolved into something barbaric and brutal there is no reason for them to be that high in the mountains or attacking a mining town for that matter. I have the feeling they are being driven by some dark master to do his bidding to prepare for a war against the free lands. While you are fighting the Orcs and helping the villagers I want you to look for any signs of this potential dark master and report back to me as soon as you are able. I have every faith in you and will be monitoring you as best I can though for some reason attempts to scry in the area that has been attacked has been difficult so if I do not hear from you within a week of you arriving then ill send one of the full riders to make sure everything is fine, the overall journey should take about a two weeks to get there and two weeks to get back. Now that you have been briefed and that you have all the equipment you will need I wish you good luck my apprentices and eagerly await your return with good news.”* 

Jadeus nudged Endras with his tail and the look they shared let the other know how off the entire situation sounded. *“This isnt right,”* he thought with a shake of his head. Modeus left after bowing, and as they prepared to leave, fastening the unique saddle and hanging on the various packs, bags and pouches the elf felt necessary to take, Jadeus and Endras began muttering between themselves, before lapsing into a comfortable silence as he mounted up and directed him along the road. 

--------------------------------------------------​
Two hours in, and Endras was starting to get lax, his attention wondering beyond his immediate surroundings. He saw himself back in Ela’Amnor, in the burnt ruins of his home, eyes damp as he comforted his brother, watching the tears carve rivulets through his ash-stained face, and then all of a sudden he lurched forward, and returned to the present. It was another non-descript stretch of road, just as unremarkable as any other on the route to the Kel’Karadorn Mountain range, where there destination lay. Jadeus’ nose was lifted into the air, in much the same fashion as when he’d caught the scent of deer, and if it weren’t for the fact that the other dragons were emulating his actions in their own fashion, the elf would have sworn it was just the dragon on the hunt. 

*“What do you smell, Little One?”* he asked, his voice hushed and strained, whilst his right hand had started to draw his bow. The dragon just shook his head. *‘This isn’t right,’* Endras told himself repeatedly, drawing four arrows as well and placing them in a special receptacle on his saddle. His movements were still slow, unhurried and careful. 

Silence, an unnatural silence, reigned for a long moment, the only sound wind rustling branches; even the birds had abandoned the area. *‘What is this?’* he asked himself, and less than a second later an arrow, shaft and fletching of black, flew from the shadows. Laughter, high pitched and cackling, disturbing to the very core, echoed from all around, engulfing dragon and rider alike. Jadeus tensed, claws flexing, and then a call went up from the collective throats of the dragons - *“Gnolls!”* 

The green dragons roared, the sound like a wall of anger, before he leapt forward with a snarl, claws flashing, and instantly blood sprayed over his snout as he ripped through the armour, thrusting his snout into the stomach of the second. Howls erupted, but Endras blocked them out, knocking his bow and bringing it back to full draw, before loosing the tension and following the speeding missile; it struck one of the attacking gnolls in the eye, punching straight through the jelly-like orb and impaling the brain. Another shriek was added to the chorus, but with swift ease he knocked again and again, each arrow striking a target full in the chest, knocking them to the ground and crushing ribs, puncturing lungs. The stench of blood filled the air, a charnel stink as more gnolls died under his comrade’s blades and claws. One more arrow was knocked, and he was targeting one of the foul archers, partly hidden by the undergrowth lining the road, when, as Jadeus swept the head off of another enemy, a large, heavily muscled gnoll made to strike the glistening green neck of the dragon. With a strangled cry, Endras loosed his arrow and quickly took his bow in his left hand, drawing the short bladed sword he carried with his right, and leaping off the dragons back, knocking the creature back bodily and viciously stabbed through the breastplate. *“You will not attack Jadeus!”* he growled, voice deep and thick with anger. The dragon took a pause in his attack and nudged Endras’ shoulder with his snout, spreading blood onto the cloak he wore and keeping enemies away with broad sweep of his tail and swift flicks of his claws; not enough to kill, but inspire a certain wariness in their foes’.

*“Endras, get astride me now.”* The order was growled, but the elf saw worry in the eyes and didn’t argue.


----------



## Rems

Jerome ducked as a long tail like a tree trunk swept over his head. Panting he leapt backwards and set his shield. It was always a tiring experience fighting Oberon, dragons were like a force of nature, not to mention a good ten times heavier. After some more frenetic combat where the only casualties were a table, two vases and a chair, Jerome called a halt. 

“That’s enough Oberon, if we continue i may not have any furniture left”. 

“Bah, thou softlings art too dependent on thine furnishings, a dragon has nought but his scales to protect him. Why i could spend a night naked in the forest and come to no harm, a feat your kind would find hard to match”. 

“Oh?” “And how many nights have you spent in the forest by your lonesome?” Jerome enquired with a raised eyebrow, unlacing a gauntlet. 

“Well none to date” Oberon replied abashed before rallying “but mine point stands! Dragons are an innately superior being.” 

As his dragon stood, scales dazzling in a beam of sunlight, Jerome found himself in agreement. Every time he gazed at Oberon he felt a surge of pride, affection and strength. That this magnificent creature was bound to him, Jerome was supremely grateful for. Oberon was Jerome’s means of realising his destiny. With a dragon Jerome could achieve glory unthought-of of by his ancestors, he would become one of the most powerful humans in history. It would be magnificent. More than that though Oberon had become a friend to Jerome, easing the loneliness he felt in this place. 

Since his hatching but a scant year ago, Oberon had clawed his way into Jerome’s heart. His initial ferocity, curiosity and dare he admit, cuteness, had captured Jerome’s affections from the start. That small, playful thing had now matured into a great creature, lethal, intelligent and majestic. 

Seeing he was the object of Jerome’s attention and not beyond vanity, Oberon preened himself, puffing out his chest and raising his head. Jerome rolled his eyes at the display, snorting in laughter. 

“Has my terrible dragon become a lady of the court? Shall i purchase a dress for you to wear? Cerulean would suit i think.”

“Tis true, I would wear the colour well. I cannot deny mine own magnificence t’would be a crime”, Oberon replied light heartedly, with exaggerated pomp. “But tell me”, he continued, more serious now, “Why did’st thou gaze linger so?”.

“I merely thought on how much you’ve changed”, Jerome answered, standing closer to Oberon and laying a hand on the dragons shoulders, feeling his warm scales. His affection bleeding through Jerome continued, wistfully. “Once I had to carry you about, now an impossible task”. 

“Let not melancholy o’erwhelm you”, Oberon replied gruffly, then gently “though i confess i rather enjoyed the pampering. There is also much to be said for being of a size small enough to scamper under the dining tables; all manner of morsels might be found there”. Man and dragon stood for a moment in shared reverie, calm in the other’s company. 

***​
Striding down the halls with Oberon in tow, the experiences of the past year came to mind. At times it was still hard to believe, he was to become a dragon rider! Though perhaps it was merely a matter of course. Modeus needed riders after all and where better to look than Bal’angrath and where better in Bel’Angrath than the summer tourney. It was a given that he would attend and win, so really it was a matter of certainty that he had become a dragon rider. 

Feeling supremely pleased with himself Jerome caught sight of a dwarven attendant and waved him over. He paused for a moment, trying to recall the bearded fellow’s name. He was sure he knew it, he had seen this particular dwarf many times over the past year. Oberon and Andelath were so insistent he learned the servants names, some rubbish about basic respect. Seeing the duke’s son fumbling for the name and seeking to spare the dwarf some embarrassment Oberon stepped in.

“We require another set of furnishings Blyntar, the current set has *ahem* broken again.”

“Ach, certainly Master dragon. The needs of a dragon rider know no bounds eh?” the dwarf replied. He then bid them good-day and went to find a storeroom, whistling while he walked.

“I would have remembered it eventually” sniffed Jerome, who at least had the decency to for his cheeks to flush.

“No doubt, i merely sped the process along” Oberon replied smoothly, sailing past the knight. Frowning Jerome stepped into place. The young noble did not relish being the object of Oberon’s sly humour. The drake had a very dry sense of humour and a perfect deadpan delivery, Jerome suspected Oberon enjoyed needling him. 

Slipping in reverie once more Jerome recalled some of the lessons over the past year. He had excelled in some areas, others not so much. He found he had no talent, nor the inclination for slinking about the forest. What way was that for a warrior of honour to fight anyway? The lessons in open combat had gone rather better. He had always excelled with a blade, being trained from birth for a life of combat, but the past year had seen a leap in his skills thanks to the almost preternatural tutelage of Lady Xerxia. The elfin sword-mistress made him uncomfortable however; it did not fit Jerome’s conception of the natural order for women to be warriors. Sir Mordred however was a true inspiration. A knight bold a true, who handled his lance deftly from the back of his dragon. It was an inspiring sight watching the man work, soaring through the air. It seemed proper to Jerome that it should be a human knight who taught such things. 

A rhythmic clanking noise broke Jerome’s reverie as a white dragon bounded past, a helpless figure in the drake’s jaws. Jerome smirked at the hapless elf’s misfortune and Oberon chuckled deeply. He knew his dragon would never do such a thing, it was beneath their dignity and would demean the both of them. Jerome believed in the importance of setting an example for the other apprentices to follow. 

Arriving into the main hall Jerome raised a hand in greeting towards Andeleth, the young warlock returning the gesture. Jerome’s eyes narrowed as he saw the elven warlock Avariss and his freakish dragon. They had no right to be here, Jerome thought, two obviously corrupted beings. They practically oozed foulness. Why Modeus tolerated them he had no idea. Andaleth he knew first hand had shown signs of progress, of repentance, not so Avariss and his black spawn. 

Oberon too found a focus for his ire. Jerome could feel the drake’s hostility bleed across their mental link. The bronze dragon was starring daggers at the other bronze wyrm, Rolkaus. Jerome knew Oberon did not like the fact there were two bronze dragons in their group of apprentices, he saw it as challenge and Oberon, like Jerome, would win any challenge. Snorting in derision Oberon deliberately turned away, focusing on Modeus instead. Jerome too turned his attention on the enigmatic Dark Elf. The eldest dragon rider was still a mystery to Jerome, a figure of dark power and secrets. He had done little to shed his mysterious reputation and occasionally Jerome found himself beset by doubts as to the elf’s purpose motivations. As Modeus began to speak, Jerome banished such thoughts from his mind, eager for their first mission. 

***​
Rocked gently back and forth Jerome enjoyed the smooth gait of the dragon. Used as he was to riding the journey so far had been an enjoyable one, something he was sure some of the other apprentices, less accustomed to riding, would disagree with. There would be some sore legs come the morrow he thought. Oberon compared favourably to horse, whilst not as fast he possessed greater endurance and carrying capacity. Best of all was his sentience, as an intelligent being Jerome and he could work together and act as one. 

Entering an area of woodland Jerome felt Oberon tense as his head flicked up like a bloodhound with the scent of prey. Before Jerome could voice a question an arrow sailed out from the outgrowth, only to bury itself in his shield with a dull thud. At once a clamour pierced his mind as all the dragons, in unison, shouted “Gnolls.” 

Even as they spoke a horde of creatures poured out from the woods. Hunched and furred the gnolls were wretched creatures, like armoured rats. Adrenalin coursed through Jerome as he hefted his lance and the gnolls approached, at last battle beckoned. With a mental command he urged Oberon into a lumbering gallop, shouting at his fellow riders as he did so. 

“Into them!”

Grinning in feral anticipation beneath his visor Jerome couched his lance and picked a target. The gnoll was a larger specimen, bedecked in dirty rags and mismatched armour. The thing was drooling, its slack jaws open in bloodlust. 

It never even had a chance to scream as Jerome’s lance punched straight through it and into the gnoll behind it in a shower of blood and splintered armour. Jerome whooped in exhilaration, his first kills as a rider! Their corpses catching on his lance het let it drop, drawing his longsword. Leaning down he hacked at the heads of the gnolls around him, his elevated position and training giving him all the advantage he needed. Blood ran in sheets down his blade as skulls split, brains parted and faces cut open. 

As his rider hacked down at the gnolls Oberon fought from all fours, lashing out with claw and tail. His black talons disembowelled the gnolls with ease as his thick tail crushed bones. One unlucky gnoll, its footing poor slipped in the entrails of its fellows and fell in front of the raging dragon. Before it could recover the bronze drake’s serpentine head whipped out, catching the creature between his jaws. The miserable thing managed a piteous wail before Oberon’s terrible jaws crunched down.


----------



## son of azurman

High dragon hold, The great fort was a majestic sight from afar but the interior was the truly magical part. As the dark elf Modeus stands silently staring into a scrying orb in the great hall and busy dwarves wondered the halls the new apprentices were busy at work and one such rider was Salas Grimhammer. As Salas stood in the great hall he had approached a different method of bonding with his dragon. For the past month he and Rolkaus had been wrestling and until recently Salas had been the victor but Rolkaus was learning. As the dwarf awaited the wyrm’s next move he entered a trail of thought that he had started the previous night. Dwarves were a great and proud race of builders, warriors and miners though shorter than most they were strong and when called to fight they would trample and they were not the only ones to meet such a description, The bronze dragons were in many ways the Dwarves of the dragon world. They were not behemoths of legend, they were not the greatest fire breathers either but like the Dwarves they were powerful with great legs and home shattering tails they could easily fight any threat that the other wyrm’s could. As salas followed this thought further he did not notice the tail of Rolkaus coming sweeping towards him until it had lifted him high up and he went flying into the distant wall crushing the painting that hung there. As Salas awakened to realize what had happened Rolkaus had started mocking him , quickly the berzerker charged at the dragon and leaped seconds before Rolkaus swept with another tail attack missing Salas and before he knew it Salas had come crashing down on his head pinning the dragon’s head to the floor.

Just as Rolkaus started to complain the far door opened to allow multiple of the other dragon riders enter. as everyone gathers in a semi circle around modeus the dark elf begins to speak.

“Thank you all for coming my apprentices, it is good to see you all have progressed well in your training and that your dragons are now at an age where they can be ridden even though they can not fly. Now I understand that you are all probably confused as to why I have summoned so many of you for a mission and it is because of your advanced abilities and the size of your group that I have chosen to send you off on this one.”

Modeus leans back and with his gauntlets cracks the ancient oak of a nearby table.

“Several hours ago I received a message from a mage currently living in a dwarven mining town high up in the Kel’Karadorn Mountains that border the lands of Narg’Aron and the plans of Az’Neldaren. According to this mage there was a sizable force of Orcs besieging the town and that the dwarves that live there are sorely pressed for aid from the holds near by as according to reports there has been a large Orc incursion from the dark lands into the mountain passes. While normally this wouldn’t be a problem and I’d leave the dwarven Lords and Thanes to the defense of their realm this presents itself as a perfect opportunity for the Dragon Riders to flex their muscles and show that we will not stand for attacks on the free lands of Em’Ralden.”

Modeus’s chest swells with pride along with the apprentices. 

“However there is something that troubles me about this attack, it seemingly came out of nowhere and while the Orc race has now devolved into something barbaric and brutal there is no reason for them to be that high in the mountains or attacking a mining town for that matter. I have the feeling they are being driven by some dark master to do his bidding to prepare for a war against the free lands. While you are fighting the Orcs and helping the villagers I want you to look for any signs of this potential dark master and report back to me as soon as you are able. I have every faith in you and will be monitoring you as best I can though for some reason attempts to scry in the area that has been attacked has been difficult so if I do not hear from you within a week of you arriving then ill send one of the full riders to make sure everything is fine, the overall journey should take about a two weeks to get there and two weeks to get back. Now that you have been briefed and that you have all the equipment you will need I wish you good luck my apprentices and eagerly await your return with good news.”

Modeus bows and Salas bows in return as the dark elf leaves the hall. As everyone begins to leave through the doors Salas walks over to Rolkaus, the dragon is not happy with the dwarf for beating him and just as Salas’s mouth opens for an apology the wyrm uses his head to flip Salas onto his back before leaping out the front of the fort. Out the front salas places his saddle on Rolkaus before climbing up the dragon using the scales similar to a cliff face. After two hours of walking Salas and his mount at the rear of the group and Rolkaus begins to whisper.

“hey Salas how about we sneak under the trees and try to scare the others further up,” whispers Rolkaus.

“i like your thinking ill go to the left you head to the right,” replied Salas with a quiet chuckle.

As Salas dismounts he tip toes into the tress to his left wile Rolkaus crawls under the trees to his right the dwarf remembers those lessons taut by the wood elf on stealth and hunting however he hadn't payed much attention. As Salas hides behind a tree ahead of the group he is startled by a unison call from the dragons.

“Gnolls!”

As he turns around he sees a Gnoll archer readying his arrow, Salas without hesitation launches one of his hammers towards the beast crushing its skull splattering shards and gore around the area. Again he turns around smashing his other hammer into the gut of a Gnoll trying to sneak up on him, he quickly sprints picking up his hammer and carrying on over to the other side were his dragon was in danger. On the other side Rolkaus didn't need any more help as he had one gnoll in his jaws, one under his right foot,one under his left foot and one crushed under his tail.

ooc-sorry it took so long


----------



## Santaire

I groomed Aussir, relishing the deep purring sound coming from her. I was brushing the dirt from her golden scales when the messenger found me and informed me that Modeus wished to see us. I brushed the last of the dust from her shimmering coat of scales and stepped back to admire her.

I smiled as I stood in the sun, watching Aussir lie contentedly with the sunlight reflecting from her golden scales. I was simply sitting there, smiling while my eyes looked inwards into myself. I was bonded now, in soul to the great Golden Dragon that even now sat before me. I remembered all that had transpired since I first saw the great mountain of High Dragon Hold. Meeting the other apprentices in my group, my friends. Drinking myself under the table and challenging Arjak Rockfist to an arm-wrestle. Several times and waking up with a head that felt like it had been split open with an axe and a shoulder that seemed to have been wrenched out of its socket and put back by a child. Learning from Mordred about how great a knight I could have been, had I but joined one of the orders. Sparring with the Lady Xerxia and being put out of the ring after ten minutes. I could have done better, had I embraced the void. But after learning what it did, I dared not try it. The benefits were not worth the cost...

It was a playful nudge on my thoughts that brought me back to the present. “Why so contemplative Kilaren?” It was Aussir, who had turned her eyes on me. I found myself looking into a face that was both strong and beautiful and couldn’t help but reflect that she looked just like a golden statue, glittering emeralds for eyes and jagged ivory for fangs. But she was far from a statue. I reached up and brushed my hand across her scales, real scales. Not metal. Far more precious to me.

“Just thinking of what has led me to this place. And the things that had to happen for me to reach here.”

Just as soon as the words had left my mouth I felt the dark rush in the back of my mind. I crumpled, saved from cracking my head off the stone floor by Aussir, who caught me in a claw as if I weighed no more than a child. “It happens again?” She asked; concern evident in her voice. I climbed to my feet slowly, ensuring I did not fall again. “It is getting worse. Every time it happens it becomes harder to push him back down. I cannot embrace the void, not while he waits for just such an opportunity. I need strong emotion to keep him down for it is anathema to him. Be it hate or love, both serve just as well. But it is getting harder. Kagé yearns to be released. But I cannot allow it. I cannot.”

“Why not Kilaren?” Aussir asked; the same question she had been asking for the last year. I smiled, albeit grimly. “Because if I do Aussir, then I know not what he will do; nor do I know whether I will ever return this time. There are too many unknowns for me to risk letting go even for a moment.” She straightened, evidently dissatisfied with my answer. But she knew me well enough that she could not force anything about Kagé from me, even while she could ask me to do so much else. I knew that to her it seemed insignificant. She could never understand my fear; gods, what if I had released Kagé and he had killed her. Then there would have been no going back. 

“Gather your things Little One, it is time for us to go and see the master of dragons to see where we shall be headed to in the world. Do be sure to pack plenty of provisions for we do not know how long the journey will be.” She said as she turned her head back to me. I could sense the hurt in her, she hated that of all the things she had learned from and of me, the one thing she had always wanted to know was barred from her. I walked closer and laid a palm upon her shoulder. “I am sorry Aussir,” I spoke quietly so that only she could hear. “But to speak of him is to invite him into my mind. To confess everything, I would have to let him in entirely and that I refuse to risk.”

And so once I had gathered my provisions, armoured myself and buckled on my sword belt I went to see Modeus with Aussir walking beside me, her every tread seeming to shake the ground. As we went to see the Elf who had changed my life...

***​
We gathered in the great hall, all twelve of us.

Modeus stood before us, displeasure evident on his face. His hands were clasped around his scrying orb, frowning at whatever it was he could see in its depths. It was several minutes of uneasy silence before the High Lord straightened and regarded us.

He spoke clearly, outlining the task ahead of us.

“Thank you all for coming my apprentices, it is good to see you all have progressed well in your training and that your dragons are now at an age where they can be ridden even though they can not fly. Now I understand that you are all probably confused as to why I have summoned so many of you for a mission and it is because of your advanced abilities and the size of your group that I have chosen to send you off on this one.” As he finished the last sentence he took a few paces backwards and rested against a table. His hands were gripping it so tight that he damaged the ancient oak with an audible cracking sound.

He spoke again. “Several hours ago I received a message from a mage currently living in a dwarven mining town high up in the Kel’Karadorn Mountains that border the lands of Narg’Aron and the plans of Az’Neldaren. According to this mage there was a sizable force of Orcs besieging the town and that the dwarves that live there are sorely pressed for aid from the holds nearby as according to reports there has been a large Orc incursion from the dark lands into the mountain passes. While normally this wouldn’t be a problem and I’d leave the dwarven Lords and Thanes to the defence of their realm this presents itself as a perfect opportunity for the Dragon Riders to flex their muscles and show that we will not stand for attacks on the free lands of Em’Ralden.” His chest swelled with pride as he spoke but then his gaze darkened and he regarded each of us in turn. I shivered slightly as his gaze passed over me. I wondered if Thadek had told him of my troubles with Kagé and found myself half wishing he had, and half wishing he hadn’t. Kagé would make or break me and I didn’t want Modeus meddling in it. But at the same time I wished I had his advice. But when facing Kagé, I was on my own. Even Aussir didn’t fully understand and she was bonded to me in a way unlike any other.

“However there is something that troubles me about this attack, it seemingly came out of nowhere and while the Orc race has now devolved into something barbaric and brutal there is no reason for them to be that high in the mountains or attacking a mining town for that matter. I have the feeling they are being driven by some dark master to do his bidding to prepare for a war against the free lands. While you are fighting the Orcs and helping the villagers I want you to look for any signs of this potential dark master and report back to me as soon as you are able.” Modeus pushed himself off of the table and strode to stand in the centre of us as he gazed around. “I have every faith in you and will be monitoring you as best I can though for some reason attempts to scry in the area that has been attacked has been difficult so if I do not hear from you within a week of you arriving then I’ll send one of the full riders to make sure everything is fine, the overall journey should take about a two weeks to get there and two weeks to get back. Now that you have been briefed and that you have all the equipment you will need I wish you good luck my apprentices and eagerly await your return with good news.”

Then he left...

***​
“Gnolls!”

The cry rang out through the trees and I was already dropping from the side of Aussir and standing in the centre of the road. “What do you wish of me?” Came Aussir’s question to me, a note of pleading in her voice. “Do not worry young one,” I said calmly as I walked towards the Gnolls. “I wish you to guard my flank.” Whereas in training exercises she might complain at me ordering her around, now she took comfort from my calmness and experience in the field of battle. The first Gnoll came at me and I ducked beneath a swipe with a blunt club and drove Húron up through the weak point under the armpit, where very few warriors even thought to armour. The Gnoll was no exception and Húron drove through his chest, puncturing his lungs and skewering his heart. I ripped her free and watched as a second Gnoll threw his spear at me. A flash of gold knocked the spear aside before Aussir’s claw came down in a sweep that disembowelled the Gnoll. It looked down at its guts that were spilling out and gave a great screech before I drove Húron through its head, ending its misery.

I saw my fellows surging into the Gnolls and saw a Gnoll aiming a bow for Azrael. I tossed Húron up, caught her so that I was holding her backwards and threw her like a javelin. She impaled the Gnoll even as Aussir tossed another archer up into the air and bit it in half. With a groan of disgust she spat it back out. I smiled as I ducked a Gnoll’s spear thrust. She always did have fine taste. She would only drink Elven wine or water, only listen to classical music and never, ever ate anything such as Gnolls.

I was still smiling as I drove a four fingered jab into the Gnoll’s throat before using its falling body as a spring board to launch myself into a no-hands cartwheel over another Gnoll’s sword. As I landed I turned my motion to propel myself into a roll and when I came up again Húron sliced through a Gnoll’s ankles before Aussir drove her tail through the Gnoll’s chest.

A seventh Gnoll ran for me, screeching an evil sounding battle cry and Aussir, her sensitive ears pained by the racket crushed him beneath one of her legs. Then I darted back into the chaos and danced the dance of death.


----------



## Midge913

*Andaleth Veto*

A cool breeze filtered through the open window over his left shoulder, ruffling his dark hair, causing an errant lock to cover his eyes, forcing Andaleth to shake his head to free his vision of the offending strand. Legs pulled up underneath his body, he sat comfortably in the large armchair he had managed to procure for his rooms, his nose buried in _The Theory of Relativistic Magic and its applications to Healing and Recovery Sciences_. It was a heady work, one that a year ago would have flown over his head, but now he drank in the information, looking for anything, any clue that may lead to a new direction in his research. 

The last twelve months in High Dragon hold had seen changes in many of the apprentices of his group, but Andaleth felt himself the most changed of the lot. He barely recognized the man in his memories, he had changed both mentally and physically and Andaleth, much to Sirrush's approval, had found the changes much to his betterment. A year ago he had been timid, afraid to explore his true potential, scared to explore the limits of his abilities for fear of harm to himself or others. The lean, lithe thief who had entered the front doors of the Fortress he now called home, had disappeared, replaced by a man of muscle and strength. His daily training sessions, as well as the exercises he undertook on his own time, with Arjack Ironfist had seen his endurance and strength grow far beyond what he thought was possible. Looking at himself in the mirror now a days made him shake his head in wonderment.

As was standard for apprentices of the First Rider, it wasn't just physical exercise that contributed to his training regimen, though he found that after the first few months his daily run through the castle and surrounding grounds was his favorite, but training in the arms and armor that would help him wage war as a Dragon Rider. A fond smile crossed Andaleth's face as he thought back to his first week in the castle, his sparring match with Jerome that had seen him bloodied and bruised, barely able to stand. His training sessions with Lady Xerxia had put an end to his ineptitude in the sparring ring. Under her tutelage the long sword that now hung from its harness on a peg near his door had become deadly in his hand. He still wore the short sword that had served him so well for so many years, learning to use it in conjunction with the larger blade. His book forgotten on his lap as he delved into his experiences of the last year. He remembered spending much of the time with Lady Xerxia on his back, her blades at his throat. Despite his early failures with a blade he now knew that he could hold his own against trained swordsman. 

One of his early fears as he entered the Hold was that he would find no companions among the apprentices. That the very nature of his birth as a Fel magic user would ostricise him to the point that none but other Warlocks, destined for madness and corruption, would associate with him. He sighed as he thought of the friendship that had blossomed with the roguish Aseer and the easy companionship of the haughty Jerome, who he shared frequent bouts in the sparring rings where, much to both participants surprise, he claimed a few victories. Things had definitely improved for Andaleth since he had taken his place under Lord Modeus.

Even though he felt that he had much to be proud of in his accomplishments in general, it was his work with Modeus that filled Andaleth with pride. Unlike other Warlocks in the Hold, Andaleth trained in the use of his magic with the First Rider himself and over the year that had passed he found that under Modeus' watchful eye, his abilities had grown substantially, both in power and in control. Andaleth knew that Modeus' reason for training him personally had ulterior motives, but he did not care. What he had learned in a short year could fill several books. Modeus had charged him almost on the day of his arrival, to assist him in trying to find a cure for the taint that corrupted Fel magic. It had been an ambitious endeavor, destined to fail in Andaleth's opinion, but all the same he had thrown himself into the work with a fervor that bordered on obsessiveness. It was Modeus' confidence that it could be done that had driven Andaleth to work harder and harder. The work had been rife with failure, until a few weeks ago......

_Staring at the ceiling of the workshop he shared with Lord Modeus, Andaleth took a deep breath before turning his attention to the the small notebook in front of him. Rubbing his eyes and taking the quill back in hand, Andaleth began to scribble calculations and formulae, his hand flying across the page as he regurgitated the work that had already been done. His hand slowed as he added the new calculations he had made. His brow furrowed as he tried to put into practice the hypothesis that had come to him a few mornings ago. Every few minutes his eyes would flit unbidden the the beautiful crystal, fixed on a silver mount, hanging from a silver chain from a small stand next to his right elbow. _

_Smiling, he placed the quill down next to him and dusted the page of his journal, and blew the errant sand from the page. He was onto something, he could tell. It felt all the more promising since no one had ever attempted it before, not to his knowledge. It would work. _

_Standing, he placed the note book next to a small silver platter, its surface polished to the point that it caught the light of the candle near by, throwing dancing fire-lights onto the walls. Taking his dagger from his belt he slowly pressed the blade against his palm, following the line of the fresh scar that rested there until it drew blood. Squeezing a tablespoon's worth of his own life blood onto the small platter, he reached out with his magic, the pulsing thread of power that rested in his core, and held the puddle in the center of the platter with an effort of will as he wrapped his hand with a fresh linen bandage from the neat pile on the corner of his table. _

_Once more his eyes went to the crystal pendant, his mind floating back to the flash of inspiration that had brought him to this moment. _

_***_​ 
_He had been in Modeus' library, reading a book on the basic mechanics of Light based magic. It was an idea that had haunted the furthest corners of his mind, but one that he thought impossible. The more he read about the interaction between Fel magic and the Light based magic that Paladins used, the more he knew that the combination of powers held the key to the answer he sought. He knew it was crazy, that the two powers were the antithesis of the other, but he felt that if he could just get them to act in concert, one augmented by the other, he would be able to affect some sort of change in the taint. After all, Warlocks did not die when healed by Paladins, despite the pain and discomfort such an interaction brought, so it made sense that there was a base level in which those two powers could co-exist. He only had to find the way. _

_"An odd choice of reading for one such as yourself," a deadpan voice said from behind him. Turning Andaleth found Tyreal Selenas. Tyreal, an elvish Paladin, was an infrequent sparring partner and a more frequent companion in debate. Andaleth and the quick witted elf had spent many hours in this library debating philosophy, magic, and warfare. But despite their amiable discussions, Andaleth was not sure where he stood in the Paladins estimation. It would have been nice for Andaleth to be able to call Tyreal a friend, but he always felt that by the virtue of their opposing natures, something stood in the way of true friendship._

_Raising an eyebrow, peering over the top of the pages of the tome, Andaleth felt his lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile, "I misplaced the book of spells designed to kidnap sleeping children from their beds. This was all I could find to pass the time." Andaleth attempted tried to keep sarcasm from his tone, but by the way the elf broke into a deep smile, he knew that once again, he was unsuccessful. Dead pan delivery was just not in his repertorie of skills. _

_With a sigh and a shake of his head, the flaxen haired Elf took the seat across from Andaleth, "Still trying to achieve the impossible then?" There was no malice in the statement, just a simple question. Most in the Hold had learned, by one way or another what it was that he and Modeus were attempting to do, and there were many who scoffed at the notion. Wrote it off as an fools errand. Tyreal was one of them. He never demeaned Andaleth for stubbornly pushing onward, but Andaleth could tell that he felt that Andaleth's time could be used in better pursuits. _

_"It isn't impossible....," Andaleth said, almost childishly before he caught himself, "It is just proving just about as difficult as I thought it would. Despite Modeus' optimism, I am not so sure."_

_Locking his gaze on Tyreal, "I am glad you stopped by though, I wanted to ask you a question."_

_A nod and a motion to continue, prompted Andaleth into it, "I have been considering the possibility of combining the use of Light magic, augmented by my own abilities, to try and heal the damage that the corruption causes. It may not work, but if it does, perhaps it would be the first step in removing the taint.'_

_Tyreal stared at him for a long time before answering, "It is folly Andaleth. The two magics are as close to enemies as pure elemental forces can be. They are not meant to work together."_

_Waving his hand in a dismissal of Tyreal's negativity, "I know I know, everyone knows so. But only because it has never been attempted. I do not ask you to agree with me, I only as to borrow that crystal you wear around your neck. It is dedicated to Ishella is it not?"_

_Tyreal's eyebrows almost climbed into his hair line in surprise, "Observant young warlock," he grumbled,"Yes, it is dedicated to the Elven goddess of healing, but I don't see what that has to do with anything, or how it would help you in your work."_

_"It is enchanted," Andaleth said pointedly. "I can feel it, the pulse of magic is different, but it is still there. You use it to help you in your healing magics, I have seen as much first hand." His voice took on a pleading tone,"what is the harm in it Tyreal? I promise that I will return it in the same condition that it is now. I need it for I have not the ability required to perform my experiment without it and I don't want to involve Modeus until I have something to share with him."_

_An exasperated sigh rushed over Tyreal's lips as he fished down the front of his shirt, drawing the crystal out on its fine silver chain, "You are never going to give up are you?" He said as he dropped the medallion into a piece of soft cloth that Andaleth held forward._

_"Never."_

_***_​ 
_The confidence he had felt that day in the library, Tyreal's piercing and slightly pitying gaze resting on him, seemed miles away as he gingerly took the silver chain of the pendant and wrapped it around his wounded hand, wincing as the blessed silver stung his exposed flesh, before calling on his magic once more. _

_He felt it, felt the revulsion his power harbored toward the magic pulsing in the pendant he clutched fervently in his hand. Raising his right palm, upturned, fingers slightly curled he focused on the small pool of his blood as it rose in from the platter, a perfect sphere floating before his gaze. He focused his powers, imagining a thin layer of Fel power around the very outside of the sphere. He felt it coalesce, just as he had intended, his mind directing the power in subtle ways, changing and perfecting the layer of Fel magic. He intended for this layer, this membrane of power, to help protect his blood from the harmful effects Light magic would have on it. He charged it, trying to create a vortex, a sucking vacuum that would pull the corruption, the disease of Fel magic out to the surface, subjecting it to the healing power of light. As he has done many times before, he isolated the corruption, he could feel it, oily and perverse, sliding around his mind as he worked. It made his skin crawl and made him want to recoil from it. But onward he pressed. To an onlooker it would seem that Andaleth stood, stone still, staring at a drop of his own blood floating in mid-air, but to his eyes he saw the corruption snaking across its surface. A pulsing black slick of foul energy that he imagined reaching for him, threatening him with death and madness. _

_Raising the pendant, he could feel the stability of the Fel membrane waver as the candlelight caught its crystaline surface and he quickly adjusted his hold on the magic, compensating for the swell of Light magic. The surge focused on the source of sickness as he activated the talisman with the word that Tyreal had provided. He recoiled slightly as the pulsing light of the amulet reached his eyes, its presence making him slightly nauseous. As the light began to work on the sample of blood, he could tell that something was different, a sensation of a burden lifting, a breath of fresh air as he watched the snaking oil that represented the corruption start to burn away from the surface of the sphere. His excitement began to swell. Had he done it, his blue eyes blazed in the light of the magic he was working. Then his heart fell as he watched the corruption spew forth from the center of the blood drop its growth unchecked, the power of the amulet pulsing to match its strength. He almost wept as the containment field he had erected with his power failed and the drop of blood was set alight by the power of the healing talisman, the power it exuded more than enough to destroy the sample. _

_Breathing hard, a silent tear of frustration threatening to leak from the corner of his eye, Andaleth calmly placed the amulet on the hanger it had been on. He tried to contain the rage brought on by his frustration, but it was no use. He needed to lash out, to rid himself of the feelings of failure. He kicked out, launching the stool he had been sitting on across the room, where it banged into the bottom of a bookshelf, causing several weighty tomes to fall from their perches. Snarling Andaleth tore the last page of calculations, his brilliant idea, from his journal and with a thought set it ablaze with his power. _

_Leaning heavily over the table, his own face staring back at him in the mirror surface of the silver platter, Andaleth tried to still his mind, focusing on the well of power that was his. His breathing slowed and his mind calmed over the course of several minutes. It was only then that he became aware of the presence of another. He could feel the eyes on the back of his head, eyes that in this place could only be Modeus'. Andaleth could only wonder how long he had been standing there. Turning to face his master, Andaleth saw an emotionless mask, a slight look of empathy at the corner of the First Riders gaze, quickly stifled as he took in the overturned stool and downed books. Following that gaze, Andaleth quickly moved to he shelf, righted the stool and carefully returned the valued works back to their resting places. _

_"Do not be dishearted by failure Andaleth, no-one ever gets anything right the first time. I'm the first Rider and even I get things wrong. We must take heed of our failures and pass them down so that others learn from our mistakes," the words were quiet and measured, a soothing tone to his statement that made Andaleth wonder just exactly what his master felt for him, if anything. _

_It was not placating words that Andaleth needed, his frustration mounting once more as he felt like a child trying to learn some menial task and continuing to fail. "All there have been are failures master," Andaleth said with a frustrated sigh, but calming slightly under modeus' cool gaze. "I was certain that this would work."_

_Nodding, turning the journal that Andaleth had been writing in so that he could see the figures, Modeus seemed unpreterbed by his pupil's outburst. "The harder we try to grasp something we want, the more it slips from our grasp," the First Rider chided his pupil. "You must learn patience Andaleth and eventually you will succeed. Tell me what went wrong this time?"_

_His momentary sullenness forgotten in the face of working the problem with Modeus, Andaleth launched into an explanation of what he was trying to do. "I had a thought that stemmed from a conversation I had with Odrion, who has a penchant for history, a week ago. We had been discussing ancient religions and their interactions with magic and the supernatural. He told me several of the tales of the Elven Goddess Ishella. He indicated that several legends speak of long dead followers of her arts healing the most grievous injuries of both mind and body." Excitement had overshadowed failure as he worked through his line of thinking once more,"I found several more tales in the library. Mages of her following and Paladins who direct their worship to her, cured men who were possessed as if by daemons, bringing their minds back from a hateful oblivion." He paused pensively, "It got me thinking..... Perhaps that was not just colorful language to bring excitement to ancient tales. Perhaps there was something to these old stories that related to Warlocks of old taken so deeply by the corruption that they acted as men possessed. We have seen it before master, there is truth in that."_

_Clearing his throat, Andaleth continued,"I found that in every one of these tales, the afflicted were confronted with powerful talismans, pure crystals and silver amulets consecrated by the goddess or consecrated in her name." Indicating the hanging pendant, "I remembered that I had seen Tyreal using just such an amulet to heal one of the younger mages that was too free with his fire. The pendant used to belong to his mother, who as it turns out was a fervent follower of Ishella."_

_Turning back a few pages in his journal, Andaleth pointed out a series of notes to Modeus, "My initial attempts to use the indilluted magic of the charm destroyed the blood samples entirely." Shaking his head at the memory of the brilliant ball of blue flame that consumed his blood, Andaleth continued on, "I spoke with Sirrush and he suggested, almost in jest, that I use my Fel magic to augment the field. He was joking, but something in the concept captured my attention. If I could use my magic to protect the cells from the holy magic, while still allowing the Light of Ishella to burn away the taint, perhaps that would be the key to the problem."_

_Andaleth's face darkened into a scowl," It seemed to be working master, but then the arcane field became unstable and collapsed. The powers involved fighting each other to failure."_

_Modeus listened quietly as Andaleth laid the whole thing out, taking a short moment to look over his notes, "The collapse," he mused,"was most likely caused by your lack of talent in the field of holy magic. But the same would be said if a Paladin tried what you are attempting now. The best option would be to have someone who can channel both forms of magic equally to attempt this experiment."_

_Andaleth peered at his master, trying to glean something from his appearance as to his thoughts on the direction the experiment had taken and would take in the future, but Modeus was intently inspecting the pendant. His gaze flitting to Andaleth's wounded hand, turning it over to see the burn marks left by the chain, Modeus' lips pursed for a brief second, but still he said nothing._

_Impatience claiming control of his tongue Andaleth all but blurted out, "So you that this could actually work?"_

_"If you find a mage with some experiencein both holy and fel magic then it could work," Modeus said, but quickly continued seeing Andaleth's excitement mount,"though there are very few individuals I know of who are capable of using such powers. Most of them are ruling members of Dark Elf Society or members of the high elven mage college"_

_Crestfallen, Andaleth quietly murmured, "what should we do next then Master? If I am not able to wield the talents necessary, must we abandon this line of experiments all together? Must we wait until someone with the proper knowledge can be found? It seems such a waste..."_

_"You do realize that someone with the knowledge you require is standing infront of you and having a conversation with you?" Modeus's lips twitched slightly as they shifted into a small smile as he continued to examine the crystal._

_Almost smacking himself in the face, Andaleth felt like such an idiot. So consumed in wallowing in his own frustrations he has missed the obviousness of the solution until Modeus' mentioned it. Rolling his eyes at his own obtuseness, "Of course Master, how can I assist you?"_

_Handing Andaleth a small crystal vial and a silver knife, "A small amount of your blood is all that we shall require and I shall provide the rest. Assuming of course that you can force the corruption in the sample to accelerate." Andaleth nodded. He had done this many times in the course of their work. His blood, and by extension his body and mind, were not nearly as corrupt as other Warlocks within the ranks of the apprentices. He has once asked Modeus why that was, but the only answer that his master could provide was a hypothesis. Modeus had told him that since Warlocks typically draw on their powers for battle and killing, using their bodies as a living weapon, it seemed to him that the corruption would spread faster, fueled by the intent of the user. That made a certain amount of sense to Andaleth, he tried to restrain the use of his powers to his research. "Yes master, I can manage that."_

_Rolling up his sleeves he flexed his arm several times. Wincing as the silver dagger pierced the flesh in the crook of his elbow, he colllected the bright crimson fluid as it seeped from the wound into the crystal vial Modeus had provided. Placing the stopper into the mouth of the vial, he held it up in front of the light of the candle. Reaching once more for his magic he focused on the sample in the vial, feeding it with more magic, willing it to retain the corruption, forcing that corruption to grow. It was vile work, but necessary. He felt dirty as he finished, unconsciously rubbing his hands on the front of his tunic as he handed the vial over to Modeus._

_Inspecting the seal on the vial and the sample within Modeus moved to a clear spot in the room where he sat down on the floor. Andaleth joined him, "we shall begin when you are ready Andaleth."_

_He felt the pull of his power as Modeus reached out for his own. Andaleth began to slowly construct the field as he had before, aligning the membrane of Fel power around the cells within the blood, readying them for contact with the light of the holy magic. Nodding to Modeus as he finished constructing the barrier, he felt as his master drew on the powers of Light and as Modeus sent that power in the direction of the sample it was as if Andaleth had been struck by a bolt of lightning. The field wavered before he was able to gather his wits and stabilize it. _

_He had no idea how long he had been sitting on the rough, cold, stone floor, reacting to the fluctuations of the power Modeus used, straining to contain the vital part of his blood from contact with the holy magic. It seemed like an age. His knees were on fire, his mind pierced by thousands of tiny needles as he worked his power, trying desperately to do what needed to be done. Sweat slicked his head and arms, it distracted him as it trickled down the middle of his back. Despite the discomfort, he strained to keep the field in place. Slowly, ever so slowly he began to feel a change in the sample. Something was different, but he could not concentrate, his focus on his spell was slipping, he could feel the magic failing him and as his control finally slipped he fell face forward, cheek pressed against the cold stone of the floor. _

_"I can continue no longer master..,"panting he begged for an answer," Were we successful? I felt a change in the sample? A lessening" unable to find the right words Andaleth settled on," A recession of the foul presence I normally feel in my blood."_

_Righting himself, looking up, he watched as Modeus allowed the power that flowed around him to dissipate, eyes locked on the vial as if searching for that very same answer,"The corruption is still there within the blood but it has been stopped from continuing to change any further. In a way we have placed the corruption in a state of suspended animation"_

_A small smile, brought on by hope, a fervent desire for success lit Andaleth's face, flush with a victory after almost a year of failure, "Then it is possible! We have made a crucial step master." A thought, stilling his body, purpose defining his posture he turned to Modeus, "When can we begin to use this process on Warlocks themselves? We must do what we can for those suffering from the corruption."_

_Raising his gaze from the vial in his hands to meet Andaleth's eyes, Andaleth saw sadness in his masters face, "Sadly Andaleth, we can only achieve such a result on those warlocks who are around the level of corruption that you are at or are less corrupt than yourself. Those further down the path of Fel Magic will be unaffected by what we have achieved here today"_

_Undeterreed, disappointment a momentary flash of emotion, Andaleth jumped to his feet, rushing to his workbench and scooping up his notebook. He felt as if roadblocks were falling away, a year of research had finally amounted to something. Determination radiated from Andaleth's frame, a palpable aura, "I understand master. We must do what we can. This is the first step towards a cure!"_

_Modeus shook his head at his unflappable student, "Go and get something to eat and drink while you write down what you have learned here today. Send me a copy once it is complete and I shall translate this knowledge into Elvish before sending it off to the Mages Guild to see what they make of it."_

_"I will master," Andaleth said, nodding resolutely he said over his shoulder as he walked from the room, "We will succeed."_

...... It had been one of the most amazing moments of Andaleth's life. Not only had he found his ability to be useful, but he had managed to help stem the corruption in no less than 18 other Warlocks out of the 87 that were apprentices under Modeus. Andaleth remembered waking up from his own procedure, slightly woozy, but his mind felt clearer. He reached for his magic and it felt as if the power came through a filter, a shield that allowed the magic through but kept the foul corruption out. It was an amazing feeling. 

Bringing himself back to the real world with a start Andaleth stood, taking in his Dragon who lazed in front of the room's roaring fire. The pulsing light from the flames shone off of Sirrush's pure white scales, lending a slightly orange hue to his Draconian friend. Sirrush was engaged in three tomes, seemingly reading them all simultaneously, regarding the history of men. Andaleth had seen him do this on many occasions, but he still didn't understand how Sirrush could absorb the information like that. 

"You are going to give yourself a headache doing that," Andaleth chided his dragon, his statement receiving and imperious scowl from the drake as he reached out with a single claw and turned the pages in all three books. Andaleth was not the only one who had changed in the last year. Sirrush, who at the time of his hatching had been no bigger than a small dog, now rivaled the stature of the mightiest warhorse Andaleth had ever seen. His great wings, still not strong enough to maintain more than a glide, and that without a rider, folded along the ridge spines that ran the length of his back, springing from shoulders that stood higher than Andaleth's head as he stood next to Sirrush. 

"_If I do indeed get a headache, It will be from reading of the same follies your race commits time and time again over the course of their history._" Sirrush countered. Though Andaleth knew he held the statement as truth, there was only quiet sadness not angst in his manner. If there was one thing that Sirrush could not abide it was a fool, especially one that made the same mistakes twice. 

"_Your kind is so... headstrong. Reckless._" He lifted his serpentine tail, poking Andaleth playfully in the ribs,"_I had thought it was just you._"

Batting the appendage away he moved to the wash basin in the corner of the room, removing his shirt and splashing some of the cool liquid against his face. "I am not reckless," he shot back, a hint of sheepish guilt in his tone, "not all the time anyway." Sirrush snorted and rolled his great yellow eyes, returning his gaze to the books in front of him as Andaleth pulled on a clean shirt. Without turning his gaze back in Andaleth's direction, Sirrush once again reminded him, "_“We have been summoned by the High Lord have we not Andaleth for our first mission away from the hold, what do you think the Dragon Lord will be having us do?_”

For the first time today Andaleth's mood soured. He had been exceptionally irritated a day ago when Modeus had told him that he would be sending Andaleth out on some sort of errand, putting a months long delay in the continuation of his research. "Thanks for reminding me," Andaleth growled, but any further discussion on the matter was forestalled by a knock on his door. Hastily throwing his mail shirt over his head, he opened it to find Aseer standing there, a look on his face that suggested mischief had either been had or was in the works. Andaleth's annoyance melted away instantly in the face of his friend's arrival. "Aseer, my friend, come in come in. What can I do for you?"

Laughing, his eyes gleaming with the sound, "It's good to see you too Andaleth. You too Sirrush." He said inclining his head in the drakes direction, a motion that was returned by the dragon in kind. "Any idea on why Modeus would finally get us back out into the world again would be appreciated, but I fear that you're just in the dark as me?" 

"True I know little more than you, but if you ask me it is quite annoying to be uprooted after so long in the castle with less than a days notice. I have so much to do, experiments that need my attention." sighing, Andaleth looked over his shoulder his face falling into a scowl at Sirrush who had quite the smug expression on his face. "Yes, yes, I know that you have no problems galvanting off into who knows what, but I swear, I would rather stay here with my books."

Sirrush shook his head, turning his gaze in Aseer's direction, a conspiratorial cant to his great head, "_I apologize for Andaleth Aseer. Why he would rather stay here, his nose in a book, than be beneath the open sky, I cannot fathom. Quite the change from the adventurous thief that entered the castle a year ago don't you think?_"

Aseer grinned,""I can't help but agree more!" Andaleth looked out into the hallway as motion and the noise of scales sliding against stone took his attention. Seraphim, Aseer's dragon, stuck her head into the doorway over Aseer's shoulder, fixing Sirrush with a glare,"_Don't encourage him._" Ignoring his drake, Aseer continued to extol the virtues of leaving the castle as Andaleth settled his chainmail and began securing his weapons harness, shifting it so that the long sword was an easy draw over his right shoulder, his short sword over his left, tightening the belt that held his pouches and dagger around his waist. "Adventure, fine maidens and freedom," Aseer cried," not to mention the inevitable damsel in distress that will fall head over heels for her heroic savior. One can only keep a man with a dragon locked in a mountain for so long."

Andaleth shrugged his shoulders and sighed in resignation, a slow smile creeping over his face though at Aseer's comments, "Well, when you put it that way.... I suppose that I can part with my books for a few months. As far as my research goes I am waiting on letters from several mages and priests before Modeus and I can continue. A jaunt through the country and a good fight or two would not go amiss I suppose..... Provided there is a pretty maiden involved of course." Slapping Aseer on the shoulder, Andaleth cried in a dramatic tone of voice, mimicking his friend, "Come you rapscallion! It seems there is mischief afoot and I would hate to miss all the fun." 

"Haha, I knew I could sway you!" Aseer laughed. Andaleth couldn't help but notice Seraphim roll her eyes sarcastically and turning an accusatory look at Sirrush "_Oh look what you've gone and done..._" To Andaleth's amusement her look only seemed to sour further as Sirrush merely smiled and followed the pair of humans out of Andaleths room. 

As the two walked down the twisting hallways of the Hold, Andaleth and Aseer caught up on what had been happening with the other over the last month. Aseer was frequently indisposed on some quest or another and Andaleth had been shut up in his lab, rarely seeing anyone save Modeus and Sirrush for weeks upon end. As usual Aseer asked how his research was going and Andaleth filled him in on the what had happened, unable to keep the pride and joy from his expression as he told him of his minor success.

"Good to know you've kept yourself busy. But I must say I don't fully understand, you of all people surely cannot fall to taint, and you are extremely powerful in the arts, you and I both know this to be true. So why do you, as well as other fel users, refrain from utilising your power? Would you not use a sharper blade or a stronger bow if one was handed to you?" An old arguement the two of them had engaged in many a time. 

Glancing back before he answered, Andaleth saw that Sirrush and Seraphim, despite her earlier annoyance, now had the heads together, the conversation silent as far as Andaleth was concerned. "Each time I reach for my magic Aseer," Andaleth said with a smile, launching into the same explainantion he had given a thousand times, "It is like poisoning myself slowly, bit by bit. Each time the Fel power courses through me I can feel the temptation to take more, to do more, despite the fact that I know that it will lead me to damnation. It is no simple tool for each time you use it, it takes a small part of you and turns it into something that is not you. It is like dipping your hand into a pool of water contaminated with oil. Removing your hand, the water will eventually dry but it will leave a film, a contaminating residue on your skin." Shrugging his shoulders a bit uncomfortably at the thought he continued, "One that you can never wash off."

Gesturing to the blade that rested comfortably over his right shoulder, Andaleth continued, "It is as if I every time I drew my sword I had to consider the possibility that it would turn on me. That it would attempt to maim and disfigure me. Not a pleasant prospect." Andaleth said with a wave of his hand, trying to facilitate a change of subject. "Now, enough about me and my studies. What have you been up to over the last several weeks?"

Aseer shrugged in defeat, knowing Andaleth wouldn't back down, "As a matter of fact, I just returned from the woodlands; Lady Ley'ana managed to convince the old Lord to let us out for a few weeks for a nice grand hunt!" Grinning at the memories, Aseer continued, "A few weeks independent in the wilderness with nothing but one's guile to survive! Mind you, I probably ate better than that preserved rubber we are told was once meat that you got shoved down your gullet back here!" 

Laughing, Andaleth and Aseer continued to exchange banter as they arrived in the great hall, taking their places with the rest of the apprentices that appeared to have been called for the same reasons as they had. Andaleth spied Jerome, he gave a wave of greeting as he too noticed Andaleth's arrival. Despite their rocky start, Jerome and Andaleth had found an easy understanding. They trained together, sometimes dined and spoke together, and over the course of the last year an easy respect had grown between them. At the fore of the assembly, Modeus himself, who began speaking quickly as soon as all of the apprentices had been assembled. He told them that they were being sent to investigate an orcish horde that had spilled out of no where and was beseiging a dwarven mining town in the Kel'Karadorn Mountains, bordering the lands of Narg'Aron. He said that the orc menace was not the only thread and that Modeus believed that some dark power may be behind the host. 

Settling his weapons more smoothly on his shoulders, Andaleth finally forced himself to agree, that this mission may just be worth leaving behind his books. 

***​ 
Gently settled astride Sirrush, the plain leather saddle that he had helped make, forming to his legs as he sat comfortably, Andaleth couldn't understand why he hadn't gotten outside of the Hold before now. It was amazing to him how fast his priorities had changed. He had gone from a roguish theif, living outside, living off the land, to a stuffy, if not well armed and skilled, scholar. He decided that he needed to make it a point to do this sort of thing more often. He could tell by Sirrush's contentment through their bond that his drake agreed wholeheartedly. 

He was about to mention something about the serenity of their surroundings to the others when caution flared across his bond from Sirrush. The drakes head was rigid, alert, ears straining to catch a seemingly far off sound, nostrils flaring. Andaleth's sword was in his hand before Sirrush called, "_Gnolls Andaleth, make ready!_

A horde of the foul beasts came crashing out of the surrounding woodland, hunched and furred, their elongated muzzles full of sharp teeth, clawed hands wielding crude weapons. There was little need for Jerome to spur his fellow riders forward, for even as he spoke several were rushing towards Andaleth and Sirrush. 

Andaleth felt Sirrush twist, the dragon's massive tail lashing out to catch one of the first creatures to reach them across the chest. Andaleth heard the snapping and cracking of bone as the creature was heft back into the trees by the force of the blow. 

Andaleth's sword flickered out, its keen blade taking the head from ones shoulders even as he called upon his magic. Even though the filter, the stasis of the corruption held firm, it still felt wrong to him to call his power to fight and kill, but he did so without hesitation. From his hand sprang orange flames, a streaking comet of Fel fire colliding with a second beast that was rushing him from his weak side. 

"Flatten them my friend," He said to Sirrush even as his drake rose up on hind legs, his massive bulk coming back down, pinning two of the unfortunate creatures under his front claws. An unpleasant squishing sound heralded their demise. 

Sliding his short sword from its sheathe and sliding out of the saddle, falling nimbly to the ground, Andaleth called on his power once more. He turned his gaze to two more of the creatures within easy reach, his magic coming to him without thought, flames spiraled from his hands up the blades of his weapons, each burning with the an eerie light that mimicked the light spilling from his eyes. The creatures, barely new what hit them as his attack met them, confidence in every muscle of his body, he was ready. The sound of sizzling flesh was backed by a mighty roar from Sirrush and Andaleth knew that none could stand against them.


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## Lord Ramo

Azreal felt burning indignation as he was taken against his will through the winding corridors that made up the Dragon Rider’s home. Only his heightened Elven senses were able to allow him to see the faces of all the fellow dragon riders and apprentices, to be able to see the laughter cross their faces as he was dangling like a damned toy from the mouth of a brilliant white dragon. He knew that if he was walking free then most would dare not laugh at him, his skills with a sword from his training as a Paladin had helped him a great deal, as had his speed, reflexes and strength.

Azreal sighed as he crossed his arms, knowing that it was beyond useless for him to try and struggle against his white scaled companion. He was glad that he had his helm on, even though he couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else, or Navanash in his eyes, he was still grateful that he didn’t have people looking at the annoyance on his face. He knew of Navanash, his dragon’s strength, having had to transport books from the libraries he remembered well how his dragon had been able to carry most of them to help speed up Azreal’s workload. The fact that he was dangling feet to the ground meant there was no way he could twist around to stop his dragon at any rate so he would just have to put up with it. There would be no reasoning with him yet; Navanash was too excited to listen, though Azreal would ensure that once he was put down Navanash never acted like this again.

Navanash normally acted like Azreal did, bearing himself regally and acting how he should. However he was still a young one and would have centuries to learn how to conduct himself properly from Azreal. Azreal was glad that the dragon had grabbed him by his dark chest plate and not actually his shield which was held in place above his cloak on his back, it meant that he would have less damage to his equipment as well as not being accidently dropped and be injured underneath his dragons feet. As his dragon surged round corners, and Azreal found himself being swayed from one side to the next with every turn, every bend, he found himself reflecting upon the last twelve months, his first year as a dragon riders and all he had been taught.

One thing that Azreal had been glad to find out had been the fact that one of the considered tutors to new dragon riders was actually a dwarven paladin by the name of Thadek Hammerhand, a spiritual guide and adviser it almost seemed. Azreal had spent a lot of time with Thadek, questioning him on all manners of things in regards to the order of Paladin oaths that he held, as well as the oaths he had made to Modeus. Whilst he was relieved that Thadek said Modeus would most likely allow them to leave if the orders of Paladins required their aid, or were threatened he also must hold his oaths to Modeus in regard and honour them as he should.

One troubling subject that the two discussed was how they would react if the orders of Paladins, and that of the Dragon Riders ever went to war against each other. Azreal could understand why the Paladins would go to war if they had to, the dragon riders sheltered a number of fel magic users, and he could see for himself that most were learning to further their gifts, an image which troubled him greatly.* “What if the orders of Paladin’s unite and declare war on the Dragon Rider’s and Modeus Thadek? Would we honour the oaths that we made as Paladin’s to eradicate evil in all it’s forms and join them, renouncing our oaths to Modeus?”* Azreal had asked, aware that he would not like the answer.

“Modeus would give us the choice on which side we should fight with, and which side we should fight against. However if the Paladin’s were chosen to be the side we fought with against the dragon riders, then we would do so without our dragons.” Thadek had responded to Azreal. Azreal looked over at Navanash as the dwarf spoke, he had bonded with his dragon as suspected and wasn’t sure whether he could depart without him if necessary. However he was sure that if that time ever came, and he prayed to the gods that it never did, then Navanash would influence his decision somehow, even if it meant not taking sides but exiling themselves away from the fighting. He would ensure his dragon stayed safe, no matter the cost. None would stand in his way.

Another area he had excelled in with his training was his actual sword fighting skills, Lady Xerxia, the dark elf warrior had been the apprentices trainer in sword fighting. Azreal had stood there and watched as Lady Xerxia had beaten every single one of the other apprentices in such a short amount of time, only Kilaren could last over five minutes against the aggressive warrior, and he could only just manage ten.

Azreal remembered their dance well, it was not a battle like it had been from others, but a dance, to an opponent he was proud to have fought against. The two of them had flowed from one attack into another, moving quickly from attacking to defending. Whilst Azreal knew that Xerxia would probably like to be on the offensive for most of the time he would do his best, meeting attacks with counter attacks until after half an hour the two of them were tiring. After the bout he had remembered Xerxia walking over to him, purring slightly as one hand tentatively stroked his cheek, something he had found odd from the Dark Elf. Being a high elf he found the dark elf way of life very puzzling, sure they lived under threat but they put pleasure above a lot of things, something too which Azreal would never do. After she stroked his cheek she slapped him with the other hand lightly on his face, walking away before Azreal was knocked head over heels by her dragon. Obviously she didn’t like her opponents standing after each bout so in his mind that was the reason that the dragon had knocked him over.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They passed several people he knew, including Ser Jerome who couldn’t hold back his laughter. Finally when they were outside the great doors to the hall Navanash put him down. Azreal quickly tuned to stop his dragon from just walking through into the hall.

*“Navanash, companion. Look at me before we go into these halls and find why we have been summoned.”* His dragon complied, lowering his head to the same height of the elf, Azreal marvelling at his dragon’s grace even after what he had just been put through. “What is it little one.” His dragon boomed back, excitement dripping in his voice.

*“Navanash, my young friend, I know how excited you are for going on our first mission. I know how it feels as I once felt that thrill myself,”* he paused for a moment, cupping his dragon’s head in his hands as he looked directly into his dragon’s eyes. *“I understand that you were in a hurry but please do not do that again. You made us both look a little foolish young one, something I am not used to. We are to teach each other as well as learn from each other, do not forget that.”* He smiled beneath his helmet before lowering his voice a bit, *“Besides I think the other apprentices will get jealous that they didn’t get the ride that I just got, I think most would probably wet themselves.”* 

Navanash boomed with laughter before replying, “Alright Azreal, I’ll bear that in mind, I forget that it might not be as fun for you. Now that you are done telling me off perhaps we can go inside and find out what mission we are being sent on. It must be a fairly important one.” Azreal turned nodding to his companion.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The group moved together on their dragons, travelling to help fight against the brutal orks. Azreal had tangled with them in the past, when he was hunting down the damned fel users he had to kill more than his share of orks sometimes, the damned brutes were always looking for a fight. He sat atop Navanash, back straight as they covered more ground then they would walking, though Azreal was certain that he would have been fine walking.

All of a sudden there was a burst from the undergrowth and a person bellowed “Gnolls!” Loud enough for the group to hear. Instinctively Azreal leapt off of Navanash as Gnolls roared and ripped through the undergrowth charging towards the dragon riders. “Stupid creatures have the gall to attack us?! Do they really believe that they can even take one of us down?!” Navanash snarled on his link to Azreal. Azreal drew his sword before turning his attention to his charge, *“No they can’t Navanash. Let us show these fools the fury of the dragons.”*

Immediately the group drew weapons and began fighting, whether on the backs of their dragon’s or by the side. Azreal chose to fight by his dragons side, his speed allowing him to hurtle towards the enemy at the same pace of his dragon. As fast as lightening Navanash grabbed a gnoll in his mouth, teeth crunching through bone, tearing through flesh as he shook his head back and forth, shaking it like a ragdoll. One Gnoll thought it could take the opportunity to kill the dragon, leaping for its neck with a crude looking mace. Azreal intercepted, sword slicing through the mace arm causing the creature to scream in pain. Landing lightly on his feet Azreal swung his sword and decapitated its head from its shoulder, ducking a second later to avoid a cruel looking blade. He grabbed hold of the dead Gnoll’s mace and while blocking the downward strike from the Gnoll’s blade launched his own attack upwards, mace smashing into its lower lip and knocking it off of its feet. He quickly brought the mace down, burying it in its head so it wouldn’t rise again before Navanash’s tail whipped past him, knocking a Gnoll charging at him off its feet before beating it to death by repeatedly hitting it with the tail.

Standing straight Azreal patted Navanash’s side in thanks before leaping forward to meet his next opponent, Navanash pouncing as well as he landed on two gnolls. He clawed at them repeatedly before bowing his neck and ripping one of their heads off, the other Azreal stabbed through the head before shoulder barging his next opponent. Azreal leapt nimbly away at a hasty swing of the gnolls sword who tried to kill the elf, before planting his blade through its chest, twisting it until the creature went limp. He quickly withdrew his sword and held it ready to fight any others that dared engage him or Navanash.


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## komanko

OOC: Sorry it took me so long, damn, it has been years since I wrote anything, surprised I still know the abc, hopefully, though I am unsure. If it starts with C I think I know it.

The room was a mess, various items lying around, gnawed and broken, valuable furniture tarnished, and in the middle of it all Gresh’Thoth, his own bloody dragon, lay sleeping on Avariss’s broken in half bed. He frowned while looking at all that mess, Gresh’Thoth became a nuisance lately, it seemed that his nature was leaning towards aggressiveness and arrogance while not forgetting to spread wanton destruction when he had spare time. Still he was magnificent, the most magnificent of all the wild beasts Avariss has ever seen, though beast was not the right term, the creature was intelligent, malevolently intelligent.

Stroking his beard Avariss contemplated what of an oddity the dragon was, considering his draconic brothers, he was twice the size he should be, which was enormous for that age, not to mention the unnatural second head, something which was nearly unheard of from what Modeus have told him. Due to him having such a “mutated” dragon it was obvious that he will participate in all kind of dragon debates, from which the most prominent was the effects of fel corruption on dragonkind. In those debates Modeus told Avariss the thing which he sensed alone already, Gresh’Thoth hatched from the very egg that Avariss found on the border of the Dark Lands, obviously he was tainted, the question was how tainted and how it would affect him further, if at all. As if the dragon sensed Avariss’s thoughts he twisted his head sideways and let out a small puff of noxious swamp green gas from his nostrils. The green “mist” which the dragon was releasing had already been tested by Avariss and easily identified as highly toxic and even lethal in the correct dose, now if only he could utilize this for something more than just gas bombs it would’ve been wonderful.

He crossed the room silently, he had to wake the dragon, they had to get going. On his way he passed by a cracked mirror, and he swore he couldn’t recognize the figure which stood infront of him there. He changed a lot during this passing year, both physically and mentally. Arjack’s constant drilling was finally showing results, making Avariss look both stronger and healthier, gone was the overly pale tone from his skin, replaced by a more healthy looking grey, not only that but it also seemed that he was becoming a bit muscular and while he was nothing compared to Arjack , Modeus or even most of his fellow apprentices he was still much more than the slim, twig-like old Avariss. The relentless training with the mad fitness dwarf forced him to get larger robes and cloths as he grew in size, he even began carrying a sword with him since he was forced to participate in Lady Xerxia’s endless sparring sessions, and even though he spent, not most, but all of his time laying on his back and pleading for mercy he still managed to improve his skill and abilities in the art of fencing, slowly learning how to defend, parry and even attack correctly, all considered, he became a moderate swordsman, though still he probably wouldn’t be able to beat any of the other apprentices in a straight swordfight.

As he continued inspecting himself he caught a glimpse of the mysterious purple black tattoos which began covering his arms and chest. It was a thing of mystery which neither Modeus nor Tel’Alarian, the scholar, could explain. Still, while he suffered from this minor imprints he did manage, with the guidance of Tel’Alarian, to minimize visible physical corruption and to successfully slow down the corruption process itself, though his eyes still glowed with a dark green color when he dabbled with the fel arts. Though out of all that was achieved, the thing which seemed to be the biggest success was the subsiding of the Voice, in the passing year it grew weaker and weaker, especially when he didn’t use his powers, and even when he did, it became no more than a faint whisper in the back of his head making his living a lot easier and helping him function more or less normally.

He slowly turned away from the cracked mirror, his figure slowly disappearing. He turned back to the dragon, Avariss’s blanket was laying on top of one of the heads, comically floating a bit each time it let out air. Yet even in this state the dragon did look magnificent, two heads, both horned with shining white horns which easily stood out because of the creature’s unnaturally black scales. Like the horns, the scales themselves shone when light shone upon them, giving the dragon a majestic look when it strode. From where Avariss stood he could see the drake’s rows of sharp white teeth, they looked nasty and menacing, easily able to tear the flesh of some unlucky foe.

Even though the dragon looked strong and in a way beautiful, still, what stood out the most in it, were the two heads. Even Avariss could sense that it was something that was not meant to be, yet he never showed any distaste for it, he embraced it as change, like the one he was going through, nothing remained the same in the test of time, and if Gresh’Thoth was the beginning of a new evolution it was not for Avariss to decide its fate, though, it did became hard to control the dragon when each head thought and fancied different things. Nevertheless, he never complained about it, as far as it concerned him, the dragon could sense, hear, see, feel, and smell twice as better as any of his “brothers”, which gave him an edge in nearly all dragon related things, especially in Sir Mordred’s lessons where the dragon could show it’s smug superiority to his kin, but all those advantage did not come without disadvantages, at least for Avariss. It was harder to control the dragon, more so when on the back of the beast though Avariss didn’t mind, riding on top of the dragon felt like riding on an enormous warhorse which could easily trample over anything or burst his way through a solid wall of granite, and even though Avariss never really tried it, he still liked the thought and could picture it in his mind. 

Quickly snapping back to reality Avariss pushed the dragon with his leg, hopelessly trying to force it off the broken bed, while mumbling to himself about the dragon being useless and that it should’ve woken up five minutes ago.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dazedly Gresh’Thoth followed Avariss as he led the way towards the great hall. As usual the way from his own quarters was longer then the way of the other apprentices as he preferred the seclusion and feeling of isolation that being away from the rest gave away and even though he walked this way hundreds of times he still found it terrible long and even possibly confusing for one who would not have walked it daily.

The dragon shook both of his heads in an attempt to remove the webbings of sleep from his mind, it followed blindly, through instinct, while bumping into various walls or corners as it went on without making any comment. Obviously whatever the dragon did earlier exhausted him quite a bit. 

Avariss had to admit to himself, waking up this lazy and lumbering beast was not an easy task, especially when it was so much larger than the rest of the dragons. The usual pushing and shoving did not help Avariss, not even hitting the dragon with his fist, he doubted the fact that the dragon even felt it. In a vain attempt to wake the dragon Avariss picked up a half broken chair and threw it on top of the dragon, it bounced away harmlessly but did enough noise to rouse Gresh’Thoth’s interest, as it opened one eye slowly and lazily trying to understand where all the noise was coming from. Not wanting to miss the rare chance Avariss hit the dragon lightly on the back with his staff, forcing it to react and move a bit, forcing blood to begin flowing quicker and thus making the dragon awake slowly. Though sadly for Avariss the waking up process did not end there. Gresh’Thoth, realizing that he did not awake naturally look at Avariss with what seemed to be terrible malice, as if he just took away the most precious thing the dragon owned. “Warlock, what is it that you want?” He asked, his tone sullen and unfriendly. “Gresh, Modeus is summoning us, and we answer, this time all dragons need to be present as well.” He replied to the speaking left head. 

The unfriendly look passed from the dragons face to be replaced by a curious one, neither of them knew what Modeus wanted and both were curious. “Fine…” Gresh’Thoth replied as it slowly rose up to its magnificent height, “But first, We have something to take care of.” Another voice said which Avariss recognized as the right head, Thoth. “And wh…” Was all that Avariss said before Gresh smashed his head into him, knocking him off his feet while Thoth caught him in the leg with his mouth, and after about thirty seconds of thrashing and tossing the dragon let him be. “Next time don’t wake us up with your stick and chairs, better shout at us or something.” The dragon’s heads said together in synchronization, while both smiling somewhat of a friendly - ish smile which Avariss could not decipher the meaning of, was it truly friendly or terrible evil… He would never know.

Still, at least he managed to get the large brute walking.

The long walk left Avariss with a bit of a spare time which he decided for the betterment of his relationship with his dragon, though before he could speak the dragon already spoke for him. “How is your research advancing? Any new ground shaking breakthroughs?” It asked cynically . Avariss knew what was the research which the drake spoke of, and it certainly was not his interest in the Ancients which he shared with Tel’Alarian. The dragon spoke of something far more sinister.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It started around ten months ago, it took time to get the materials and books, not to mention real permission from the dragon lord. While Andaleth considered the light and divinity for a cure of the fel corruption Avariss knew that a permanent answer would not be found in life, but in death. He knew that sometimes, one had to work in the dark for the benefit of the light. So while Andaleth “wasted” his time with ridiculous fairy tales of healing magic conducted by priests and healers Avariss turned to a more permanent solution which made him dabble in death. He did not know if Andaleth was aware that he begun experimentation, though he did know that he was part of the original crew to work on it which consisted of Avariss, him, and Modeus. From them only Avariss was left, which pretty much let him have free reign on where the experiments went to, apart from the once in a while check by Modeus to see if everything is up to standards and fine and Gresh’Thoth ever vigilant eye. It was obvious at first that the drake did not like the idea, it was a foul smelling path yet Avariss knew it to be the true way to the cure, with time the dragon grew accustomed and began showing fascination in Avariss’s work, even though he rarely displayed it.

Sadly for Avariss nearly anything he learned had to be done by himself as there was no teacher for such arts. The art of Nercromancy was unspoken of, forbidden, punished by death in most places, considered far worse than the daemonic magic he already used, all in all, Avariss was the perfect heretic, the ultimate villain considering his interests, sadly for the dark his personality contradicted his interests and while he dabbled in the dark he sought to help the light instead. 

In these ten months of study Avariss has managed to develop sort of a temporary cure, in a way he managed to use death to create life, but not the unlife that necromancy usually created, he actually managed to heal, to create biological matter, cells from thin air. It only showed him how much of a fool the known world was, by forbidding the studies of necromancy it was slowing down the progress of what some called the healing institute, and while healers focused on restoring, knitting tissue back together, nearly nobody could resurrect a dead person back to normal functionality. What Avariss was doing was far more then healing, he was creating, it seemed that this dark art could be used for life as much as for death.

The idea itself came to him around half a year after he began his research. In his studies he consulted not only books of the dark art but also books of medicine, anatomy, and the research of body structure. From time to time he managed to sneak it a dead animal, first it was rats, then stray cats or dogs, rabbits, frogs, whatever he could find to dissect, yet his most wonderful catch was a living cow, he managed to somehow get her down stairs to his “experimentation cellar, built directly underneath his quarters, locked by two doors and a hidden well with dwarven engineering. Half the cow was fed to Gresh’Thoth to keep him silent, essentially “bribing” him, but more likely because the sight of such a large beast just created a rather large appetite in him. 

He then proceeded to study the other half of the cow, and then it struck him, the thought which led to the temporary cure. He should’ve saw it a lot earlier but due to the small sized animals it was hard to vision, but now, when he saw it on a large animal like that… It was an amazing thought yet such a simple one. Most living creatures where structured in the same way, having similar limbs and while some had several digestive systems or more legs or mouths it did not matter, they living functioned the same and thus their cells were always the same, inhabiting the same places. 

Necromancy could be used to reanimate the dead, to make a lifeless corpse stand up and walk by some dark means, to achieve that it had to recreate something in that corpse, not just give it will, everyone wills to live but when you die, you die, it had to recreate function, movability, and to achieve that it had to reconstruct dead, rotten cells.

In theory this could be applied to recreate something which was lost, a warlock doesn’t sprout horns without any body changes nor does his skin turn craggy by some cryptic means, it all came down to the alteration of the cells, the use of fel magic was clearly effecting the body itself from within. Altering it to suit the daemonic practice and to create the fel visage. All of this meant that a warlocks body, still had the potential cells to recreate previous appearance, as one could recreate an arm he could instead remove features. 

It was somewhat of a wildcard of an idea, Avariss did not really know if it would work, and finding a suitable candidate for his mad scheming would be impossible and as such with the help of Gresh’Thoth he decided to use it on himself, and so they did, the dragon watched as dark nercromantic energies danced through Avariss’s body, slowly altering his appearance, at first the body was twisting, morphing, unnaturally, it was painful and alarm showed in the drake’s eyes, yet Avariss told him to stay put. Slowly he managed to control the growth and regrowth of the cells, slowly and painfully his horns began receding, turning smaller and smaller until they disappeared totally and black hair took their former place, with that done he began morphing the skin, and after about an hour of painful recreation Avariss marched out of the room, terrifyingly joyous, and looking completely normal. This was sort of a breakthrough, in practice, this meant that he could no longer be physically changed by fel magic though the corruption still lingered in his body.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Nothing new. The temporary solution still seems to work, yet as I feared it is only temporary. The forces of the void constantly try to take back control and if left unchecked the degradation back to physical corruption can occur twice as fast even thrice. A permanent solution will have to be found.” Avariss said, replying to the dragon’s question, it was not rare that the dragon showed interest in this but it was something they both did not speak of. Especially not in public like this. “If you are asking this because you want a new pair of horns then I think I can make you new ones, or change yours, but that is not the purpose of this research.” He said lightheartedly while hopefully trying to stir this conversation to more positive places. Gresh snorted in a rare display of hidden laughter, while Thoth said arrogantly, “Why would we ever change something in us, we are the greatest creation of the gods, the perfect being, I can understand why you would need to change yourself, but us? Ridiculous.” The dragon was indeed full of himself, and yet so very young as well, he is going to be even more problematic when he grows up Avariss thought to himself.

Slowly they made their way to the great hall where Modeus awaited while making friendly banter on the way. It was good for Avariss to have positive interaction with Gresh’Thoth as they were bound yet their relationship not the strongest of them all, it was kind of a normal one, no love but no hate as well and Avariss wanted, needed, it changed.

It seemed that they were one of the last pairs to arrive, as many eyes turned to inspect them when they entered, each pair of eyes emitting more loathing and hate then the other, he had no real friends here, some even enemies, the closest thing to a friend that Avariss had was Andaleth though even he did not communicate with him too much the passing year. It seemed to Avariss that his dream for a more social life will never be real, his nature and interests shoved people away from him, even among his own kind he was not welcome as most of them showed a more merciless and cruel nature which Avariss lacked. Though in normal society it did not matter what his thoughts and personality were, he was judged primly for what he was, did and practiced. He was surprised that Jerome didn’t lunge at him and stab him five times through the heart with the looks he was giving him.

Ignoring him Avariss strode on, his dragon, Gresh’Thoth just behind him, looking raucously content. It was enough to stay the hand of any would be justice seekers who did not want to face the wrath of the oversized brute. He knew that as much as most of them hated him they hated his dragon even more for what he was born to be. Still, it did not matter, only thing that mattered was that Modeus summoned them and he answered the call as he was ought to.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He put the saddle upon the dragon, it seemed that they were going on a little adventure, it came to Modeus’s attention that mysteriously a large incursion from the orcs has came upon them from the dark lands, moving into the mining passes and threatening the mountain dwarves which resided there. With that information gathered it seemed that the dragon lord wanted to test his apprentices and send them to battle looking to find why the orcs were driven to attack and if someone was leading them with a darker purpose in mind. 

For Avariss the primary goal was to save as many lives as he could, he did not like pointless killing, nor did he feel a great need to kill any orcs but he had no choice, they were threatening the lands which he was now sworn to defend. For him it felt like the orcs were trespassing on his lands, and nobody should trespass on his lands. With this thoughts Avariss quickly returned to his room after the quick gathering, packing food, water, extra clothes and other essentials for the two week journey ahead. Deciding that a robe would not be enough for such a warlike undertaking he took it off, put on a light chain vest which he practiced with, though the term light, should not be used ever when talking about armour. Still, it was better than running naked on the battlefield. He then put his robe back on, took his sword, staff and backpack and went back outside to his waiting dragon. Their trip began.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They were travelling onwards for two hours already, each apprentice taking care of his own things, talking with who he wanted, doing what he wanted, it didn’t feel to Avariss that they were really a group of apprentice dragon riders, it felt more like a random assortment of people who happened to also be riding big scaly lizards. Gresh’Thoth was mostly keeping to himself and nearly each of Avariss’s poor attempts to strike up a conversation ended in either the dragon ignoring or in it dying out after three sentences. Clearly the drake was not interested in conversation. Instead it was taking in the scenery around them, after all Gresh’Thoth did not go out to the wilds too often and the forest fascinated him.

Avariss used the time to inspect the rest, coming to realize that Gresh’Thoth did seriously outgrow most of them, making him look a lot more menacing though not more mature. As he kept looking around he suddenly noticed that they began travelling slower, for an instant he thought that it was only Gresh’Thoth but as he looked around he saw that the other apprentices were looking puzzled as well. Turning his head back to the dragon he saw that one head was looking upwards while the other inspecting the ground, something was not right, the drakes nostrils flared, puffs of green murky misty smoke coming out. Slowly but surely he felt Gresh’Thoth’s muscles tense, like he was ready to leap, “What is it?” Avariss asked, yet no answer was given. 

He was about to ask again when suddenly a whistle filled the air, as if something was cutting through it, Avariss instinctively ducked, and after a second he heard the thud of metal impacting against wood. Turning around to look he saw an arrow protruding out of Jerome’s shield. Before anything could be sad, wild and mad laughter filled the silent air around them, followed by insane cackling and howling, it was an ambush! Before Avariss could do anything he heard the twin voices of Gresh’Thoth in his head, “Gnolls!”.

The warning was quickly followed by droves of hunched, furred creatures, armored in iron and armed with steel, which erupted from the forest like out of nowhere. They were surrounded by the malicious creatures, some standing back while others charging mindlessly forward. A shiver ran down Avariss’s spine, it was a long time since he fought for his life, yet not the first time. Gresh’Thoth seemed more at ease, his large size and bulk giving him confidence which Avariss did not have.

With a large roar the dragon charged forward, carrying Avariss with him. Twin heads lashing sideways knocking two gnolls down on the ground. The dragon viciously tore into them claws and jaws tearing and rending their flesh brutally. The huge brute made short work of them discouraging others from attacking him. Yet it did not seem to mind being attacked or not, Gresh’Thoth was out for blood. Turning around to search for more prey Avariss noticed a gnoll leaping from a tree nearby, intending to slice one of the heads, the momentum of the jump should suffice if the steel was not sharp enough. With a quick mumble Avariss sent a lightning bolt out of his sword, burning the gnoll, his sword dropping and his body falling near Gresh’Thoth. The drake jumped back alarmed about the suddenly falling gnoll. “You welcome.” Avariss mumbled to him. With that said the drake proceeded to tear the gnolls body with its mighty jaws. 

Feeling safer on top of the dragon Avariss decided against dropping to the ground like some of the apprentices did. Noticing two gnolls sneaking from behind Avariss shouted to the dragon, “Behind.” Which immidiatly sent the drake lashing with his tail, as mighty as a swinging oak the tail smashed into one gnoll sending him rolling away into a stone rock, rendering him unconscious or dead, while the other one jumped above the deal and proceeded to hit it with its blunt mace. With a quick gesture Avariss immolated the gnoll with a firebolt sending it running away in vain attempts to extinguish itself. As two more gnolls appeared infront of them Avariss cast his shroud of darkness on top of them, confusing them, rendering them sightless as they tumbled in the dark circle in front of him. Reading his thoughts the drake rushed inside running over both will rending and slashing blindly. Something was hit, a squeak of pain and another cry of hurt were heard and afterwards only the sound of teeth against flesh could be heard.

Dispelling the sphere revealed an ugly scene, which included a lot of blood, insides and two gnolls. Looking around he inspected how the battle was going on, looking to see if his help was needed somewhere…


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell was already stood in the hall when the call came for the apprentices to gather once again, having been engaged in another of his private discussions with Modeus that they had periodically held over the past year. He had been careful not to draw too much attention to these meetings, passing them off as private tuition with the dragon lord, though the others would have inevitably noticed the amount of time he spent with an individual who he had usually shown nothing but suspicion and insubordination to. 

Though arguably he wasn't all that alike to the man that had entered the Hold a year ago. Arjack was the primary cause of the physical changes. He had a particular disdain for the human apprentices and Kell was certain that he worked them and punished them harder than the non-humans. He had long ago lost count of the amount of laps that Arjack had made him run of the holds many winding and twisting corridors, or the countless times he had forced him to run up and down the steep and difficult climb to the Hold itself. He hated Arjack, though not with the same passion and utter contempt that he reserved for the warlocks, one in particular. But for all his hate, the dwarf had undoubtably achieved his task of making him stronger. His muscles were much more defined now, giving him a much more lean and toned appearance, having initially chided him constantly for being 'out of shape', though he still maintained he had been in fine shape, thug begrudgingly admitted he was in much better form now.

Unlike the other apprentices he had spent a significant amount of his time with only two other instructors. Mordred had been an essential instructor, teaching them in the unfamiliar art of fighting from the back of a dragon, which as it transpired was nothing at all like fighting from horseback. He had found it particularly challenging, more so than the others, though the cause of this had been almost entirely down to Typhon and his random and erratic behaviour. Mordred assured him that in time however, Typhon would eventually become more obedient. The other instructor was Lady Xerxia, who although uncompromisingly harsh and ruthless like Arjack, was somehow much more likeable and tolerable. Along with the certain allure the dark elf held, her lessons were also the most interesting and informative to Kell. Though she never gave him any sort of praise, quite the opposite intact, she had nonetheless significantly improved his blade work. Forcing him to abandon his old technique of rapid but blunt form of attack, for a just as rapid but more flowing and elegant style, impressing onto him that sword fighting had much akin to dancing, the dance of death as she would call it. 

He rarely spent any time with the other instructors. He would venture out into the wilds with the wood elf Ley'ana, but only when he absolutely had to and when Modeus forced him to. He spent virtually no time at all with the paladin Thadek Hammerhand, having no use for his (in Kells own opinion) misguided and farfetched beliefs and ways. And as for Tel'Alarian, he would have assumed he was myth like many of the other students if he had not seen him numerous times in the library whilst he carried out the task Modeus had set him, which curiously to and outsider never once involved lifting a single book or scroll from the vast collection.

Before he could reflect any further on the past year, he was violently yanked through the air and left to hang upside down whilst the Dragon Lord looked on with amusement. He twisted in the air to look at his assailant, already knowing full well who it would be. Of all the changed within the year, Typhons had been the most extreme. His growing size, strength and most of all unpredictability had been rapid and filled with many of these occasions. He often thought Typhon took a perverse sort of pleasure in successfully ambushing him, though he developed a certain awareness and guard against these 'attacks', this had only spurred the young dragon into more dedicated efforts. Some of them had been truly ludicrous and baffling. With a sigh of exasperation he requested Typhon to drop him, having learnt that demanding or ordering the dragon was never met with any success. 

He had spent many nights with Modeus and the other shadow apprentices, the self styled nickname those who had shadow dragons game themselves, discussing the temperament of the mysterious dragons, along with their as of yet unexplained ability to disappear entirely into shadows and sometimes when there were no shadows to see as soon as they left your field of view, somehow managing to appear in other locations without any logical explanation. 

As he shifted his attention from Typhon to his fellow apprentices who were entering the hall, he was unceremoniously dropped onto a table, crashing through it as he landed, still wearing his armour from the days sparring with Xerxia. By the time he sat up and surveyed the wreckage, Typhon had of course vanished. 

Groaning he picked himself up in time to see Avariss arrive. Amongst all the changes that had occurred over the year, the one constant had been his loathing of the creature now in front of him. Though he noted with alarmingly curiosity and suspicion that the warlocks horns had disappeared and his complexion had take on a semblance of normal. Far from reassuring him that the warlock might have changed his ways, the rapid change only managed to reassert his beliefs about Avariss and how much he would dearly like to cut him down where he stood. 

Modeus quickly explained his reasons for gathering them together and gave them their first mission as dragon riders, assuring them that he would keep his eye on them through his own means, meaning that they would for the first time in a year be let out of the Hold without the Dragon Lord or any of his instructors. They then all headed out of the hall to fix their reigns to their dragons and ride forth from the Hold. It was with little surprise that Kell found Typhon already waiting with his battle harness already attached.

A few hours of traveling later they were brought to a sudden halt by their dragons, who took to suddenly sniffing the air, poised and alert for threats. Kell climbed down warily from Typhons back, fully expecting the drake to disappear within a moments notice if they were attacked. A tense few moments went by before an arrow whistled in to strike Jeromes shield. As one the dragons yelled out their mixed cry of warning and anticipation 'Gnolls!'

Kell immediately took off to their left flank, noting that his dragon had predictably vanished, though he wasn't at all concerned, knowing that for all his behaviour, Typhon wouldn't dare abandon him in a real fight. A group of gnolls rushed out from the tree line to greet him and he skidded to a halt, quickly appraising their numbers, seven to one. "What lovely odds i've managed to find myself" he muttered under his breath. As they charged forwards he drew his pistol, fired it and smoothly holstered it in one fluid and rehearsed motion. Yet again, for all his hate of Arjack, he had gone to great lengths to repair his notoriously unreliable pistol and restore it to full working order. The gnoll he had shot crumpled to the floor giving the others pause, though he knew it would be short at best before they worked out he wouldn't even almost have time to reload. Quickly drawing his dual swords, he faced them with a relaxed posture, arms hanging loosely at his side. 

"Well, come on if your coming" He said to them with a grin. Two of them had the good sense to draw bows and arrows, but before either of them could so much as notch their arrows, a monstrous shape pounced from the shadows behind them. Typhon grasped one in his powerful jaws and almost tore it in half as he violently shook it back and forth. Grinning as the odds were restored easily within his favour, Kell leapt forwards in a whirlwind of blades to engage the shocked creatures, joining his dragon in killing all six of the remaining gnolls.


----------



## revan4559

Andaleth : Striking out with your flaming blades cutting down any Gnoll that dares come close to you or Sirrush you feel slightly uneasy as something isn’t right here though you are not entirely sure what it is yet as Gnolls have not been known to attack such heavily armoured groups unless they themselves have some form of monstrous allies. As you ponder this you find yourself beaten to the answer as two lumbering forest trolls crash through the tree line and into the group with massive clubs in their right hands either made from the tree’s themselves or a large pillar of stone. Knowing that only fire or strong acid will be enough to kill such monsters you try to make your way close to them before you hear the deep dwarf Salas shout out to you with a warning. Whipping your head around and activating your mage-sight you see a build of arcane power that is primitive yet powerful at the side of where the trolls had come from, changing your sight back to normal you see a hunched and red robed Gnoll wielding a skull topped stuff that blazed with arcane power raise its free hand to the sky before screaming words in its primitive language. As it brings its hand down you see lightning gather around its hand and know that you must counter such a spell before the Gnoll spellcaster known as a Shaman has a chance to use its powers on Salas who is still picking himself up from getting hit by a minor version of the spell. As you form a counter spell in your mind (either actually a counter spell or just using your own lightning) you decide to leave the trolls for now as Avariss is with Azreal, Kilaren and Kell and he too knows can command Fel Flames, while you deal with the shaman Sirrush seems content to guard your back raking his monstrous claws across chests or removing heads from their shoulders with powerful blows. (I would suggest you yourself deal with the shaman with the help of Salas while leaving the 5 Gnolls attacking you to Sirrush. For a ‘wizard’ duel you can either pm me or we can talk about it over msn.)

Azreal : Turning around to face another Gnoll that would of attacked you from behind you see it fall flat on its face with a sword sticking out of its back, you notice that the blade belongs to Kilaren who is now fighting his way to retrieve his fallen blade before he takes his place next to you to fight side by side as his dragon moves off to join Narvanash is decimating any Gnolls that attempt to get passed you and Kilaren to try and attack the others from behind and you can’t help but smile as the white and gold dragon seems to match each other perfectly with each of them knocking wounded Gnolls to the other for them to finish off. As you fight back to back with Kilaren you turn your head to see him intercept a blow from a pike wielding Gnoll that was meant for your back as you then turn to put your shield in the way of two arrows that would of buried themselves in Kilaren’s unprotected right side. Fighting to keep each other out of harms way both you and Kilaren you feel at ease with his Dark Elf by your side as unlike Avariss he is not a practitioner of Fel Magic and as your thoughts turn to the Fel Art you can’t help by feel slightly sick as your mage-sight see’s Andaleth and Avariss beginning to unleash their terrible power, before you can do anything you hear deep thunderous foot steps coming from the forest infront of you and turn to see the giant lumbering form of a forest troll crash its way through the tree’s to stand before you with what appears to be what remains as a tree trunk clutched in its scaled right hand. This is something you, Aussir, Narvanash and Kilaren will have to work together to defeat. (I suggest talking with Ramo at how best you will deal with this threat and remember that you are fighting a troll so it’s a tough opponent, no one shot killing it.)

Jerome : Lashing our from the back of your Oberon with your blade you keep your shield raised as several more arrows thud into its metallic surface with a couple bouncing off completely, while being mounted gives you an advantage of those Gnolls trying to attack you from the ground it still makes you a prime target for those Gnolls who are using bows. Jumping from the saddle you raise your blade above your head and bring it down upon a rather small Gnoll who is wearing a rusted iron helmet and wielding a pike with your blade making an audible crunch as cleave its head in two. Kicking the Gnolls corpse away from yourself you turn to see Oberon hit a charging Gnoll with the back of his left claw sending it slamming into a tree with a deep crunch obviously either killing it or having broken its back. Turning away from your dragon you see a large brute of a Gnoll with a notched and rusted axe try to take off Endras’s dragon’s tail and quickly move to intercept it flicking out your blade to sever its right wrist to make it drop its axe and as you hear Endras thank you the brute turns its head to face you as its left arm shoots out and its large meaty fist connects with the side of your helmet sending you sprawling onto your back as your ears ring from the blow. (Finish off the brute you are fighting though remember you are slightly dazed, like everyone else you may only kill another 5 Gnolls between you and your dragon.)

Avariss : Turning from the scene of carnage that Gresh’Thoth created you see that Kell is trying to take on six Gnolls by himself as his dragon, Typhon, has disappeared again. Thrusting out your left arm you immolate one of the Gnolls that charges towards the human warrior before you make your way over to him quickly cycling through the spells that you know in your mind to deal with the Gnolls though given the look on Kell’s face he isn’t too happy with you helping him and even less happy about the way that you are doing it. Finally stepping next to Kell you turn to your left to see that Andaleth and the dwarf Salas have now engaged what appears to be a Gnoll wizard of some form given that he has a skull topped staff which you can see blazes with arcane power along with being dressed in robes. Shifting your attention back to the Gnolls you see that Kell has already dispatched two of them with efficient strikes that have cut open their throats and is now proceeding to attack the other two but before you are able to join him something crashes through the tree’s behind the Gnolls you and Kell are attacking. From behind the Gnolls both you and Kell see the monstrous scaled form of a forest troll and clutched in its scaly left hand is a massive section of stone pillar covered in old blood and rusted chains, letting out a deep roar it smashes its make shift club into the Gnolls infront of it before it makes its lumbering way towards you and the human, at a quick to your right you are able to see that Azreal and Kilaren are beset by another troll aswell. (You and Kell need to work together to kill the troll, obviously it will take more than 1 update to kill it. Your dragon can focus on killing another 5 Gnolls if you wish or help fight the troll.)

Kilaren : Dashing back into skirmish you find yourself fighting side by side with Azreal the Paladin as Aussir moves to join Narvanash, Azreal’s dragon. Fighting beside Azreal you can see why Lady Xerxia praises him so much as each of his blows is perfectly measured to kill with the least effort required but also has the strength to make sure every blow is fatal, you can’t help but wonder why it is there are so few Dark Elf Paladin’s if there are any at all, perhaps you could ask Azreal if he knows any when you eventually make camp. Turning your mind back to the task at hand you move Huron to intercept a blow from a Gnolls pike that would have cleaved into Azreal’s back and in turn his shield takes two arrows that would have hit you in right side. While you and Azreal constantly keep each other our of harms way both Aussir and Narvanash are like two solid walls of gold and brilliant white though now their snouts and claws are coated in blood of the Gnolls as they rend and tear at any of the foul creatures that seek to get past you and Azreal to go and attack Kell and Avariss from behind. There is something about fighting beside such magnificent creatures that calms you though you are slightly annoyed that you had only cleaned Aussir a few hours ago and now she is completely filthy. As you continue to fight both you and Azreal hear deep thunderous foot steps coming from the forest infront of you and turn to see the giant lumbering form of a forest troll crash its way through the tree’s to stand before you with what appears to be what remains as a tree trunk clutched in its scaled right hand. This is something you, Aussir, Narvanash and Azreal will have to work together to defeat. (I suggest talking with Ramo at how best you will deal with this threat and remember that you are fighting a troll so it’s a tough opponent, no one shot killing it.)

Kell : Throwing away the Gnolls corpse that was in his mouth Typhon grasps another two Gnolls in his front claws before he rears up onto his hide legs and falls backwards into a tree’s shadow disappearing from sight and amazingly taking his two victims with him leaving you to fight the Gnolls infront of you. Charging towards to meet them you see dark green flame shoot from the left of you and immolate one of the Gnolls charging towards you and only now do you notice the foul feeling of sorcery being used by Andaleth and Avariss and that it is Avariss who was the one who decided to ‘help’ you and because of this you can’t help but spit on the ground and curse quietly as the dark elf warlock joins you at your side as you neatly open up the throats of a Gnoll wearing patchwork leather armour and another wearing chainmail that is wielding a heavy wooden club. As you charge forward with Avariss to meet the remaining four Gnolls in honorable combat, if these wretched creatures knew anything of honour you and Avariss along with the Gnolls stop as you hear loud crashing thunderous steps approaching from infront of you in the tree’s. Taking several small steps back your lower jaw opens in shock as you see the monstrous scaled form of a forest troll and clutched in its scaly left hand is a massive section of stone pillar covered in old blood and rusted chains, letting out a deep roar it smashes its make shift club into the Gnolls infront of it before it makes its lumbering way towards you and the dark elf, at a quick glance to your right you are able to see that Azreal and Kilaren are beset by another troll aswell and for now there is no sign of Typhon meaning you have to rely on Avariss and his wretched unnatural dragon. (You and Avariss need to work together to kill the troll, obviously it will take more than 1 update to kill it. Your dragon can focus on killing another 5 Gnolls if you wish or help fight the troll.)

Endras : Leaping back into the saddle of your dragon Jadeus lashes out with his right claw again managing to completely remove the head of one of the Gnolls in a fountain of gore before he wheels around to allow his tail to lash out and knock a further three to the ground as you line up another target. Given that there are arrows still being fired from some of the Gnoll archers you decide to help your fellow apprentices by picking them off with your own archery skills. As you and Jadeus continue to focus on taking out the archers you do not notice a very large brute like Gnoll wielding a notched and rusted great axe come charging out of the woods from behind you until Jadeus has already turned to the side and you catch it out of the corner of your eye as it goes to bring down its axe upon Jadeus’s tail. However before the axe falls the human knight called Jerome intercepts the Gnoll by severing its right hand at the wrist forcing it to drop its axe, letting out a sigh of relief that Jadeus won’t lose some of his tail to the Gnolls you thank Jerome from the back of your dragon before turning your attention back to the forest as you hear heavy foot falls coming closer but as you try to work out what sort of creature could be making such thunderous footsteps your attention is pulled back to your current task as one of the smaller Gnolls manages to get passed Jaedus and leaps up onto his back as the foul creature attempts to claw and bite you as it has no weapons. (You may kill up to another 5 Gnolls between yourself and your dragon during your post.)

Salas : As you lay about the Gnolls with your hammers you decide that it wasn’t at all wise to leave the group to try and scare them as the entire force of the Gnolls could have ambushed you and the rest of your fellow apprentices would never of known what had happened to you until it was too late. Cursing at your own stupidity you and Rolkaus burst from the tree line to aid your fellow apprentices with Rolkaus leaping into the air and crushed three Gnolls beneath his bulk as his head whips around to take off the left arm of a Gnoll with his mighty jaws. Charging down the small slope into the middle of the group you crash into a group of four large brutes all wearing heavy armour and wielding great axes that appear to be in good condition. Thanks to your size you are able to weave through their clumsy swings as you crush knee caps and shatter pelvises with mighty blows from your hammers and as you pivot on your right foot to bring your hammers to crush the chestplate of one of the brutes still standing you are throw off of your feet and onto your back several meters away as a lightning bolt slams into your chest from an unknown direction. Pushing yourself to your feet you shake your head to try and clear the stars from your eyes and see a hunched and red robed Gnoll wielding a skull topped staff on the edge of the clearing cackling at you, you know better than to fight magic by yourself so you call out to Andaleth to warn him of the shaman. (In this post I expect to see you shouting to warn Andaleth about the shaman, like the others you and your dragon can kill a maximum of 5 Gnolls between you.)


----------



## Yru0

OOC: Sorry all for the late post.

Aseer grabbed his bow from its pride of place, taking care to ensure that the bow string was tightly bound and that the wood held firm. Satisfied that it was ready to prove itself in battle, the archer deftly slid his weapon across his shoulder, proceeding to fasten the relatively thin, but light, leather armor that he had come to so easily put his faith into. A child-like grin couldn't help but be plastered across Aseer's face, and he would've sworn that he'd be humming to himself if he hadn't had some semblance of self-control. For too long he felt that he'd been cooped up in the hold, performing endless training sessions and practices; true, Lady Ley'ana often lead expeditions into the forest surrounding the hold, and Aseer had to concede to the Wood Elf's mastery of survival in the wild, but a hunting trip simply couldn't compare to a bandit hunt, or a real mission as a dragon rider for that matter. Aseer grudgingly admitted that his skill at the bow had improved considerably under the mysterious rider's tutelage, whereas once Aseer could hit a moving target a number of dragon's lengths away, now he could hit thrice as many in half the time; regardless, the archer still questioned what good his steel-tipped arrows would do against a truely monstrous foe, he doubted they could even hope to pierce a dragon's hide. Alass, Modeus seemed to have the answers to everything, and Aseer had already thrown his lot in with the Dragon Lord, for good or for worse. Aseer had also spent much of his time with Lord Mordred, discovering that firing atop a dragon was a mighty feat within itself, in addition to even hitting one's target. Originally, the bowman had thought that it would be akin to fighting from horseback, but to his dismay, Aseer found that the two were radically different: a horse was a beast, and a rider could control it and utilize it as an object, a tool to further his aims, whilst dragons were intelligent beings, and, especially when still in their youth (and, so Aseer believed, especially if they were particular stubborn red dragons), often contradicted the instructions of their riders, or outright ignored them. 

Aseer had notably less love for his other two instructors; the dwarf, Arjack Ironfist, was a cruel master and although Aseer had kept himself in shape, defying his noble heritage, he had struggled under the instructor's grueling regime. Regardless, Aseer had to admit that the laps became easier, and that his body began to build itself, and eventually he found himself doing extra exercises in his own spare time, although he'd never admit his pride in the success to the dwarf himself. However, it was Lady Xerxia that accounted for much of the pain which Aseer had become so accustomed to waking to. The Dark Elf seemed to take sadistic pleasure in causing her students suffering; she seemed to embody what a Dark Elf was imagined to be by children at the heart of the empire, a puppeteer that revelled in dominance over others. True, Asser had never found himself more apt at swordplay, but he still couldn't bring himself to trust the lithe figure.

With the fluidity of skill, Aseer swung his his full quiver over his shoulder, placing it alongside his weapon. However, in the process he found his eyes locked on the graceful creature that had come to dominate his quarters over the past year. Seraphim had grown drastically over the course of the year, from being able to rest on Aseer's shoulder to easily being taller than he even whilst laying on her forearms. The drake was in the process of grooming herself, the act in itself both seemingly innocent and menacing at the same time, the ferocious claws more than capable of rendering flesh from bone, and her mighty teeth capable of crushing both. “Something on your mind little one? You seem so lost in thought that you have missed three of the buttons on your leather jerkin.” Aseer was pulled back to the moment to find the elegant form of the dragoness regarding him with sly amusement. Aseer lighted at the sight of his companion, "And you would appear to have missed a speck of sheep's blood...just over there." Seraphim growled at the stubborn stain that had resisted her attempts, scowling at it in defiance. Aseer laughed despite himself, Seraphim seemed different to the other female dragons he had managed to corner into a conversation, they were predominantly maternal and caring in tone, whereas his companion was always toying, stubborn and almost arrogant, reminding the archer almost of an Elvish maiden. With lethal claws and a tail capable of felling a tree, of course. “Come on, you’ll just have to go through the motions again when you have your next meal, and I doubt Modeus would be quite so understanding if we show up late.” The dragoness grunted in mock indifference, raising to her feet, only just able to fit within the suddenly tiny space of Aseer’s room. “And what of Andaleth? I hear he has finally emerged from whatever project he and Modeus have been working on.” Aseer grinned at having been reminded of his comrade, but he had to admit he was somewhat suspicious as to what he and the Dragon Lord got up to in their seemingly endless forays into their respective labs, or the daunting cavern of the Hall’s library, he didn’t completely believe that cure to fel corruption was the whole plan of the Dragon Lord, he was rarely so clear cut. Regardless, Aseer hadn’t raised the question to the warlock, in no small part due to their meetings being few and in-between over the past few weeks.

“Aseer, my friend, come in come in. What can I do for you?” smiling at his friend, Aseer entered Andaleth’s room, which had only been a minor detour through the twisting walkways of the Hall. “It’s good to see you too Andaleth. You too Sirrush. Any idea on why Modeus would finally get us back out into the world again would be appreciated, but I fear that you're just in the dark as me?" 

Andaleth shook his head in respone to Aseer’s question, "True I know little more than you, but if you ask me it is quite annoying to be uprooted after so long in the castle with less than a days notice. I have so much to do, experiments that need my attention." Aseer almost groaned at his friend, almost grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him till he came to his senses. Judging by his own reaction, Aseer judged that Andaleth’s drake felt much the same. "Yes, yes, I know that you have no problems galvanting off into who knows what, but I swear, I would rather stay here with my books."

Sirrush shook his head, turning his gaze in Aseer's direction, a conspiratorial cant to his great head, "I apologize for Andaleth Aseer. Why he would rather stay here, his nose in a book, than be beneath the open sky, I cannot fathom. Quite the change from the adventurous thief that entered the castle a year ago don't you think?"

Grinning, Aseer followed the dragon’s lead, "I can't help but agree more!" The sound of scraping scales accompanied Seraphim as she leaned into the room, fixing Sirrush with an accusatory stare, “Don't encourage him” Seraphim had already made it clear to Aseer that she felt no need it going off in some adventure, apparently contented to be the master of the local food chain, although Aseer was not wholly convinced she was not merely putting on a show, "Adventure, fine maidens and freedom," Aseer cried, ignoring his drake’s hard gaze, " not to mention the inevitable damsel in distress that will fall head over heels for her heroic savior. One can only keep a man with a dragon locked in a mountain for so long." 

Andaleth shrugged his shoulders and sighed in resignation, a slow smile creeping over his face though at Aseer's comments, "Well, when you put it that way.... I suppose that I can part with my books for a few months. As far as my research goes I am waiting on letters from several mages and priests before Modeus and I can continue. A jaunt through the country and a good fight or two would not go amiss I suppose..... Provided there is a pretty maiden involved of course." Slapping Aseer on the shoulder, Andaleth cried in a dramatic tone of voice, mimicking his friend, "Come you rapscallion! It seems there is mischief afoot and I would hate to miss all the fun." 

"Haha, I knew I could sway you!" Aseer laughed. Seraphim gave a slight snort and rolled her eyes in disbelief, turning on her fellow drake, "Oh look what you've gone and done..." 

Andaleth went on to fill Aseer in on his ongoing research, and Aseer his friend on his own pre-occupations since their last meeting;

"Good to know you've kept yourself busy. But I must say I don't fully understand, you of all people surely cannot fall to taint, and you are extremely powerful in the arts, you and I both know this to be true. So why do you, as well as other fel users, refrain from utilising your power? Would you not use a sharper blade or a stronger bow if one was handed to you?" Aseer queried his companion, a question he had asked often before yet still had not received a satisfactory answer. 

"Each time I reach for my magic Aseer, it is like poisoning myself slowly, bit by bit. Each time the Fel power courses through me I can feel the temptation to take more, to do more, despite the fact that I know that it will lead me to damnation. It is no simple tool for each time you use it, it takes a small part of you and turns it into something that is not you. It is like dipping your hand into a pool of water contaminated with oil. Removing your hand, the water will eventually dry but it will leave a film, a contaminating residue on your skin." Aseer frowned slightly, noticing his friend’s discomfort at the thought, "One that you can never wash off."

Gesturing to the blade that rested comfortably over his right shoulder, Andaleth continued, "It is as if I every time I drew my sword I had to consider the possibility that it would turn on me. That it would attempt to maim and disfigure me. Not a pleasant prospect." Andaleth gave a wave of his hand, and Aseer respected the hint that the subject had been closed for now, "Now, enough about me and my studies. What have you been up to over the last several weeks?"

Beaming at being able to recount his own exploits, Aseer jumped at the chance, "As a matter of fact, I just returned from the woodlands; Lady Ley'ana managed to convince the old Lord to let us out for a few weeks for a nice grand hunt!" Grinning at the memories, Aseer continued, "A few weeks independent in the wilderness with nothing but one's guile to survive! Mind you, I probably ate better than that preserved rubber we are told was once meat that you got shoved down your gullet back here!" 
By the time the duo entered the hall, a number of their compatriots had already gathered, Aseer noticed Jerome amongst others and nodded a greating, a man who had potentially changed the most amongst them, a far cry from the self-centered pampered child of nobility who first entered the Hold; admittedly Aseer didn’t believe that nobility could truly be left behind, the son of a duke had lot of connotations, but Jerome was a trustworthy friend and companion, if not an entirely modest one. Aseer also spotted a number of apprentices who he did not know as well, one wood elf, Endras was his name, the archer had come to know from his training with Lady Ley’ana. They had shared only a few words at most, but Aseer had respect for the being’s skill; although he still could not shake a certain suspicion of the secretive race of elves, he had heard of a good many friends having lost comrades who were ambushed by Endras’ kin deep within the tree line. Avariss too was present, Aseer wouldn’t go as far as to call the warlock a friend, and he knew that others’ would most likely never do so, and he himself had his doubts about the man, still easily remembering that one evening in Modeus’ study. However, despite his withdrawnness and secluded behaviour, Aseer believed that the fel user was on their side, and if a war was truly on its way, then the archer hoped that he could count on the warlock to fight on his side.

The assortment of dragons and riders set out not long after Modeus detailed their mission; Aseer had no qualms about facing the orks, and finally felt like he could put his training as a dragon rider to some proper use. However, Modeus’ comments about a possible greater power commanding the orcish armies left him with a sour taste in his mouth, and a suspicion that they could well be walking into something greater than they expected. The steady march and movements of Seraphim and the rest of her kin became background noise to Aseer, and despite conversing with his drake, he spent much of the time deep in thought, so that when the pace of the dragoness suddenly shifted and the shattering cry went up, the archer reacted with instinctive precission and reflexes. “Gnolls!” Within a second Aseer had sighted one of the hideous beasts that ran screaming towards himself and his drake, by the time another had passed an arrow had drilled itself into the creature’s thick skull, felling it where it stood; another shot claimed the life of a creature before it had even had time to recognise the death of its comrade. Then Aseer truly snapped back into the scene, events fitted into place in his mind and he consciously took control of his actions, “Seraphim, slay them where they stand.” The only answer from the dragoness was a mighty roar as she threw herself into the fray, the sight of an enraged dragon causing hesitation amongst even the tiny brains of the Gnolls, one of their ranks could hardly comprehend the intense pain as the drake’s powerful jaws closed around its head, whilst another let out a cry as an arrow burrowed itself into its arm, before being silenced with a dagger protruding from its chest. Aseer skilfully notched a fourth arrow, but before he could release it the beasts were upon them. Unsheathing his blade, Aseer swore as he struggled to put Sir Mordred’s training into practise; Seraphim, noticing her rider’s trouble, deftly swung around, showing grace for a being of such size, the impact of her tail upon the Gnoll extracting a sickening crunch as its bones shattered under the force. “Three for me.” Boasted the dragoness as the squeals of yet another of the monsters was silenced beneath her foot, before Aseer loosed a shaft into the Gnoll archers that cowered in the tree line, grinning at his drake, “Four.”


----------



## Angel of Blood

Kell looked over to see Typhon toss a severely dismembered Gnoll away, glad to have the drake at this side for once. The thought had barely formed however when his enigmatic dragon seized another two Gnolls and vanished entirely with them into the shadows.

"Typhon!" He yelled out in exasperation "Get back here right now dammit! Typhon!" The dragon would be the end of him, he was certain, and the situation seemed to agree with him as he now stood in the midst of a large group of Gnolls, heavily outnumbered. Even as he moved to slay more of them, one burst into flames. Not any natural type of fire though. Sickening green fire, coupled with a foul odour and sense of corruption.

He turned his head to see Avariss and Gresh'Thoth moving forwards to aid him, somehow knowing it was going to be Avariss and not Andaleth.

"What are you doing here warlock?" He asked with a snarl. The corrupt sorcerer was the last person he wanted help from, him and his freak of a dragon. 

"It looks like you need someone to even the odds here. There is no need in such hostility kell, I am here to help you, there is no time for this petty rivalry in times like these"

Kell merely glared at him contemptuously as he decapitated another Gnoll with a vicious lateral swing, ducking low to thrust is other sword into another of the howling creatures. Too easy, suicidal even. He looked back at the warlock "Just make sure you stay out of my way, I can handle these gnolls just fi-" 

His next few words were cut off however, as large creature came crashing through the trees. Scales covered it's monstrous vaguely humanoid form, it's meaty hands clutched around the remains of a stone pillar, spattered with blood and gore, as well as an oddly melodic sound from the blood soaked chains wrapped around it. The worst thing about it though was the stench emanating from it, preceding it like a wave on the water.

"Well, it seems that gnolls wont be the only thing in need of handling here..." Avariss remarked just as the monster let loose a deafening roar.

"Well now…is that…is that a troll?" Kell stammered, incredulity written across his face at the sight before him, having never seen a troll in his life, he could only guess from the tales and stories he'd been told by other mercenaries and travellers in an inn round the fireside. 

Avariss snorted in contempt at his question, raising his ire "I guess you humans don't have much experience when it comes to actual danger... Yes, this is a troll, and if we don't act fast it might as well kill us."

Kell still smarting at the warlocks remark quickly formed a rash, yet enticing plan in his head and nodded at the warlocks words "Agreed, this would be one of those times where we have to put aside our differences. You move in and distract it, i'll make my way round behind it"

Drawing his sword in a manner that made Kell struggle to stifle a laugh, Avariss and his accursed dragon stalked forwards towards the troll, "You do realise that my speciality doesn't lay with my extremely superior melee fighting skills, right?" He asked, his tone dripping of sarcasm.

"Of course" Kell remarked causally, as he slowly drew his pistol and aimed it at the advancing warlock "In fact i'm rather counting on it" The pistol then roared, bucking back in his hand, a puff of flame erupting from the end as the round traveled the distance between them in a blink of an eye to hit the unsuspecting warlock.

Kell frowned however when the shot only managed to strike his arm. He looked at his pistol in confusion as the shot 'missed', holding it up to his face in concern. 

Avariss rolled away from the troll gripping his arm where a hole now appeared. Turning back to Kell his eyes were full of green devilish flame along with a sickly green tinged glow coming from his arm wound "I swear Kell, I swear in the void that if this wasn't a mistake, I will feed your soul to the demons and incinerate your body, hopefully sending it to the damned thing which gave birth to you." He says in an explosion of kept in anger and rage

Kell blinked at the threat, swallowing hard, a moment of rare uncertainty and trepidation briefly flickers acrossed his normally confident features.

Regaining his composure he shrugged at the warlock, dismissively waving his pistol "Of course it was an accident. I missed!" Hoping the warlock wouldn't pick up on the double meaning in his words. "Everyone knows how faulty this is" He bluffed, privately hoping no one else knew the pistol had long since been repaired.

Narrowing his flaming eyes Avariss waves his hands, elaborately, muttering words while looking at Kell directly, his eyes open up even more, pools of dark green flame engulfing them as his body glows with sickly energy, with a loud thunderclap the energy leaves his body, twisting through the air, travelling, until finding its place on the various weapons which the party uses, including Kells and his own weapon. 

"I hope for your own sake, that you have a semblance of honour left in you. I really hope that you don't give me any reason to question your words..." With that he would turn to face the troll, pointing at the beast with his sword as suddenly dark green lightning erupts from it, striking the troll and charring his skin where it hits.

Quickly drawing his now flaming swords before he caught fire with them, Kell glared at the warlock "These better go out after this!" 

He charged at troll, as it staggered from the lighting assailing it and blistering its torso. He managed to inflict a score of hacking slices and cuts onto the troll, but still struggled to penetrate its thick hide. He desperately ducked to avoid the trolls weapon, only allowed a moments triumph before the trolls other fist hammered into his chest, punching him back by its other fist a good ten meters before he slid to a halt. 

Winded he managed to struggle to his feet again "Might have to revaluate our attack plan warlock"

"There was never any plan, it's a shame that you humans lack any of the agility we elves tend to have." He snapped at Kell, derision clear in his voice "We are two, we would just have to wear it down, you are good with those two daggers you are using, keep harassing him, get his attention, I'll do what I do best, destroy him from afar. If you need I can send Gresh'Thoth to help you if he won't tear you to pieces"

He looked over to the two headed dragon, even just looking at it made his skin crawl, dragons should never be so corrupt. Where the hell was Typhon when he needed him.


----------



## Malochai

Jadeus glared at Endras for a second, his eyes stony and commanding. Elegantly, Endras jumped forward, even as he sheathed his sword, and tucked into a roll that flew over a gnoll’s swung weapon and sprung from it. The move took him to Jadeus’ side, and he leapt astride easily, standing atop the swaying dragon and compensating for the movement as a sailor does aboard a rocking ship, as the dragon swung his right claw out, the gore-coated, rock-hard nail slicing easily through a gnolls skin and bone to sever the head, resulting in a fountain of blood spurting six feet into the air and covering the dragons head. The consequence was an even more ferocious appearance as Jadeus’ emerald-moss-green scales were lined with the red-black blood of their enemies. Immediately after this, Jadeus’ turned on the spot, the move so quick it almost threw Endras off his back. *‘We need to practice this more ...’* he thought quickly, before pulling an arrow from his quiver and drawing the bow, trying to sight a target. He heard the sound of bones breaking as the dragon’s thick tail threw more enemies to the ground, before the wyrm roared his anger.

A primitive metal arrowhead flashed in the intense sunlight, and the elf tracked it to it’s source, still stood atop the green dragon’s back. A few gnoll archers stood further back from the main fight, in the shadows of the trees at the side of the road. Endras snorted; clearly they thought they couldn’t be seen. *“Stupid creatures,”* he muttered, before taking a deep breath and taking aim, holding the breath. He held his shot, waited until the perfect moment, and when he was sure the shot would hit, he released both breath and arrow at the same time. Within seconds, he had another bow knocked and drawn, and saw that there was one less archer. A smile touched his face, and he sat back in his saddle as Jadeus took an armoured gnoll between his teeth and bit down, crushing armour, bone and organs. The dragon then spat it out and growled, *“Tastes completely vile.”*

Endras’ smirk grew wider, and he took aim again, this time loosing his arrow almost immediately at an archer who had moved between the faux-protection of the shadowy woods, an easy shot for the elf, who’d spent so much time practicing in the last year that the bow was an extension of his body, like another limb. The dragon turned again, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted monstrous creature, like a gnoll but larger by far, erupting from the woods like one of the boars he had hunted in the woodlands around High Dragon Hold. The weapon it grasped in its huge, powerful hands was filthy, rust and dried gore staining the blade so it glinted vilely when it caught the light, and notched from long, hard use. He kew instantly he’d seen it too late; even his quick reflexes wouldn’t allow him to knock and arrow and loose it in time; the beast’s axe was already raised, aimed at Jadeus’ tail. *“Jadeus!”* he yelled, the horror clear in his voice. 

The muscles of the larger creature bulged and tensed, standing out against the thick skin, a testament to the power it bore. Endras reached for an arrow, knowing it would be too late but determined to kill the creature anyway, but as he did so, the right hand was severed, the axe dropped - the blade embedding itself deep into the loamy soil, the thick haft pointing accusingly at the beast - and a sigh forced itself between the elf’s teeth. Relief spread throughout his chest.

*“You have my thanks, Ser Jerome!”* he said before Jadeus’ leapt upon another gnoll, tearing into it with claws and teeth, bearing Endras away with him. He glanced back and saw Jerome thrown to the floor by a blow, but when he got back to his feet, the wood elf allowed himself to focus on his own fight. They had come closer to the woods at the side of the road, and Endras eyed a branch above, which he had decided to leap up to, and take better stock of the situation from the treetops when dull, heavy footsteps resounded, loud and threatening, through the shadows of the trees. Instantly, he thought of all the creatures of Ela’Amnor who could make such noise, trying to decide which he would rather it was, when a screeching gnoll drew his attention, scrabbling up the back of Jadeus, clawing and biting. Endras balled a fist and punched the creature’s snout, black blood exploding over his hand even as the Gnoll’s claws scored lines on his armour. He took an arrow from the receptacle on Jadeus’ saddle and stabbed the point through the Gnoll’s eye, the jelly running down the wooden shaft sluggishly.


----------



## Midge913

His short sword, glowing flames roaring, held in a reverse grip, slashed across the belly of a Gnoll that had thought itself fortunate to skirt away from Sirrush's flashing claws, the gaping wound low on the belly and deep, its insides spilling out around its feet as Andaleth sidestepped its headlong rush. Behind him he heard the grinding crunch of Sirrush's jaws clamping down on a wretched specimen, its squeals of pain muffled as as its head was enveloped in the dragons gaping maw. 

"More approach, Andaleth," Sirrush said, a look of disgust passing across his amber eyes as he spat the Gnolls torso on the ground. Putting his back to his drake's side, Andaleth watched as more Gnolls poured from the woods, their numbers seemingly endless. Raising his hand, crackling lighting flew from his outstretched fingers, the blackened corpses of two more beasts falling heavily to the ground, Andaleth mused at the Gnolls actions. Normally it was out of character for semi-intelligent creatures such as these to attack heavily armored parties, let alone a party that had dragons in their midst. Something was amiss and a feeling of unease began to creep into his spine. 

His moment of pre-occupation almost cost him as a poorly made sword, inwardly curved and covered with rust and filth flashed before his face. Jumping to the side, his longsword came up to parry, catching the things return strike near the hilt of his own blade. Andaleth forced his arms up, the creatures blade pinned in between his own, pulling the thing off balance, exposing its mid-section. Launch a heavy kick into its stomach it faltered backwards, feral anger on its face as it once more rushed at him. Its movement was forestalled as Sirrush's tail, serpentine and agile, whipped around the creatures core, heft if from the ground and threw it back towards the woodline. 

Andaleth's feeling of unease disapated as the creature soared and collided not with a tree, but with the hulking form of a forest troll. The massive beast had pushed its way through the undergrowth, only to have a half dead gnoll strike it in the chest. The troll roared in indignation and brought a heavy foot down on the helpless creature that had fallen at its feet. The troll, who was joined by another of its kind, hefted its heavy treebranch club, sighted in on the main body of apprentices, its beady eyes narrowing as it started forward. Andaleth quickly sheathed his blades, trusting Sirrush to protect him, the intent of his spell already froming in his mind. Trolls had amazing regenerative abilities, fire or strong acid the only way to insure their deaths and, Andaleth thought with a devious smile, fire was something he had in abundance. 

The heat of his spell was coursing through his body, his eyes blazing with the pulsing light of his magic, he turned to assist his fellows in dealing with this new threat. His first step had hardly fallen when he heard a shout of warning, a gruff voice calling to him, caution permeating its tone. Wheeling back around, his hands wreathed in the flames that he had called to him, he saw the dwarf, Salas, picking himself up off the ground, the armor on his back still smoking, his hand outstretched pointing. Following the Dwarfs motion, he sent his arcane senses questing, searching, something about the surroundings suddenly putting him on the defense. His gaze found an eddy of power, primal, savage, its pulsing rythm strong as the tide, as fierce as the wind, as everlasting as the trees that stood around them. Stepping from what remained of the brush where the trolls had emerged, was a Gnoll, hunched and bent, clad in a robe of deepest crimson, draped with animal pelts and strings of bones, carrying a staff topped with the skull of a man, its empty eye sockets glowing with crimson light, the focal point for the beast's power. Its other hand, empty and clawed, stretched to the sky as if trying to scratch the sun, jarring words of its primitive language shouting to the heavens as it called lightning from the sky, the flickering energy collecting and writhing around the outstretched appendage. 

Andaleth felt nothing but calm surety. This had been one of the moments that Modeus had been preparing him for. Letting the flames die from his left hand, he held it out, the words of the couter spell in his mind in an instant. He shouted to the dwarf, "Salas. I will take care of his magic. See if you can flank him, get around to his blind side and strike when you can!" The dwarf nodded, before setting of in a wide circle, getting himself out of the Shaman's view. 

Facing his opponent head on, Andaleth shouted, "Come beast!" His challenge clear in his voice, doing all that he could to distract the Shaman from Salas' course, "test your might against me!" 

In answer the Shaman let his bolt fly. This was not the precise strike of a mage or a warlock trained in his arts, but the raging attack of a feral beast, its power unchecked. The bolt of lightning forked out from its staff, splitting and careening in all directions as it blasted along its path, setting tree limbs a lite with smoldering flames, cracking the very rocks at Andaleths feet. Drawing on that connection with the earth, grounding his own magic in the very bedrock below him, Andaleth caught the spell, its power arcing around him in a circle as the power of the strike found its way safely to the earth. His hair stood on end, the wild power of the Shaman's spell still coursing around him, Andaleth let loose with a strike of his own, his hands collecting the sparking power that still flowed around him, he sent that energy, laced with his own Fel power arcing back at the Shaman. The difference in the spells could not have been more pronounced. Where the beasts spell had raged uncontrolled, Andaleth's was precise, surgical, focused at the very heart of his enemy. He heard it cry out and watched as one of the charms that rested around its neck caught fire, falling form the necklace where it rested, the reaching tendril of Andaleth's spell following the charm to the ground. A talisman it must have been, a protective amulet, for the beast appeared to be unscathed. 

Refusing to let up, Andaleth punched his fists out in rapid alternating succession and from them with each motion flew a fist sized ball of searing flames that rocketted towards the Shaman even as Andaleth moved closer, his steps following the rythm of his spells. He watched in amusement as the Shaman began to twirl its staff around itself, the glowing eyes of the skull leaving a pattern of energy in the air, a protective web of power that formed around the beast like a sphere, causing his balls of flame to richochette away at every angle, setting even more of the surrounding forest to flame. Andaleth was closer now, a mere 10 feet separating him from his quarry. He stopped moving, planted his feet wide, his balance sure, he called to his power. It felt as if his blood were on fire with the heat of the magic he called forth. Behind him he was barely aware of Sirrush dispatching even more Gnolls, their dying screams barely cutting through the roaring torrent of the magic that coalesced around him. He was surrounded by flames, fire, blazing with the light of the noonday sun, swirled around him, the heat causing the Shaman to take a small hastily planted step backwards. With a cry, Andaleth flung his hands forward and with that motion a wave of searing flame flew from his outstretched hands. It rolled over the Shaman, its cry of pain and surprise, shrill and panicked, rang out from inside the flaming torrent. Something in Andaleth told him that despite appearances, this fight was not yet over. 

As he let the Firestorm die down, he watched, amusement mixed with determination as clawed hand, the fur seared from it, the skin on the back of the hand pink and angry shoved its way out of the conjured fire. It was quickly followed by the beast's body, its robe tattered, shredded, smoldering and in some places still a lite with the flames of Andaleth's spell. "A worthy opponent ended," Andaleth thought. "Sirrush," Andaleth called across the mental link to his drake, "Keep the Gnolls at bay my friend, it appears this is going to take longer than I anticipated." Sirrush did not answer verbally, but his roar broke over Andaleth, its primal fury invigorating him. 

Once more he called forth a flow of magic from the well of Fel power at his core and all around him, flashing across the clearing, lightning sparked and arced, gathering in intensity and power, waiting to be unleashed at the beast before him with an effort of Andaleth's will.


----------



## komanko

Gresh’Thoth was conveying a great sense of joy and pride as he feasted upon his handmade gnoll steaks, Avariss looked at him with mixed feeling, he was glad that the dragon could finally let out his anger and negative emotions on something other than Avariss but it was also kind of disturbing at the same time as the dragon seemed to take great pleasure over what he has done. He turned away from the spectacle that was Gresh’Thoth and looked around, nearby he noticed Kell trying to take out six gnolls by himself, his dragon was nowhere to be found yet that seemed to be Typhon’s specialty, disappearing.

He knew how disliked he was by Kell, hated, was the more correct word, it was as if each time they met Kell would just gaze at him and imagine how he would tear him to pieces. It was not a mutual feeling though, as the year passed Avariss managed to distance Voice away, and after all, it was Voice that created their initial hatred, he hoped that with time Kell would grow friendlier towards him, or at least, respect him. He hoped he won’t be sorry for helping Kell.

Fire coursed through his left arm, he thrust it upwards and the fire crawled to his palm, dark green snakes slowly twirling against his hand as they made their way to his extended hand, curling his fist he let all the serpents crawl inside and then focusing on the gnoll closest to Kell he unclenched his hand letting the fire escape. In a blink of an eye the Gnoll burst in dark emerald flames, it began running around helplessly at the flames scorched his body, crawling around him like a living being, finally the charred corpse fell on the ground, steam rising from it along with the stink of sorcery. A moment later Gresh’Thoth raised his head as the smell of charred meat reached his nostrils and like a bullet he charged towards the dead Gnoll while plummeting into another one.

Several quick strides brought Avariss close to Kell. Unsurprisingly he was greeted by the snarling hard features of Kell, as he moved closer the warrior snapped at him a quick question about why his whereabouts are here. “It looked like you needed someone to help even the odds here. There is no need in such hostility Kell, I am here to help. This is not the time for some petty rivalry.” He replied to Kell with honesty. The warrior looked at Avariss with a disdainful gaze and turned back to decapitate another Gnoll. Avariss quickly noted that Kell was not someone he would like to engage in physical combat that’s for sure. Disembowling another Gnoll Kell snarled at him to stay out of his way as he could handle the gnolls alone, but just before the dual wielding fighter could finish his retort a clamor rose from the trees around them as a huge brutish looking troll crashed through the forest to face them.

It was a bulky looking monstrosity, covered in dirt and mud which nearly hidden its scaly hide. Beneath those scales immense muscles could be seen, each of his arms looked like a tree trunk that with one swipe can smash one into a bloody pulp. In his right hand the terror held a stone pillar covered in rusted chains, muck, and old blood. Avariss could not figure out if the troll has escaped captivity or just never bothered removing the chains from the makeshift club he used, looking at Kell he said, “Well, it seems that Gnolls won’t be the only thing in need of handling here.” As if to strengthen the argument the huge creature let out a ground shacking roar.

Kell stammered, he has clearly never seen something like this, yet to Avariss the troll held no surprises, he saw worse thing in his life as a pariah, and if this troll stank like a cart full of dead Kell would just need to wait and meet a corrupt troll near the border of the Dark Lands. Kell stuttered as he was about to speak, his speech coming out as a shaky question, “Well now… Is that… Is that a troll?”

What a stupid question that was, of course that was a troll, one could even know it by reading folk stories, not many creatures answered the description of big humanoid tree trunk looking scaly brute. Snorting in contempt Avariss answered, a tiny bit of sarcastic anger in his voice, “I guess you humans don’t have much experience when it comes to dealing with actual danger… Yes Kell, this is a troll, and if we don’t act fast it might as well kill us.”.

Snapping out of his state of confusion Kell nodded to Avariss and said that this is one of them times where they should put their differences aside. As if having a plan he ordered Avariss to move towards the front of the troll and distract it while he sneaks on it from behind. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, Kell seemed way too cooperative, still, maybe, he realized, just like Avariss, that it was a time of danger and that they needed to work together to survive. 

Avariss muttered a fine and fumbled for his sword very unskillfully, he wasn’t used to using it yet, and drawing a long sheet of metal wasn’t his best skill. He saw what would remind him of a smile on Kell’s face which quickly disappeared, he realized what Kell was thinking of his martial skills, which wasn’t a surprise considering that they were pretty poor. At any rate, the troll did not know that and hopefully him waving a sword in front of it would be enough to draw it away and distract it. 

Undesirably he edged towards the troll tossing out a half assed sarcastic phrase, “You do realize that my expertise doesn’t lay in my extremely superior melee fighting skills, right?” To which Kell answered casually with an “Of course.” Satisfied Avariss moved closer to the stinking pile of humanoid shaped meat which stood above him. Something bumped into his right arm, taking a look he saw Gresh’Thoth; it seemed that the dragon was close enough to him to actually stand by his side when the need was there. He smiled reassuringly as if he knew what he was doing and then was about to proceed to charging into the troll when a deafening roar was heard, he glanced at the troll and saw that it wasn’t it and as he was about to turn towards Kell, a sharp pain hit him in his arm forcing him to cry out in pain. 

He rolled away from the troll, he heard Gresh’Thoth in his mind, asking if he was ok, he was fine yet the pain was immense, as he rolled he felt the leaves and ground penetrate his flesh where a new hole appeared, this would have to be healed and bandaged, Avariss knew enough about medicine to realize that the wound could become much worse if it was contaminated by the wild setting around them. Finally out of the troll’s reach he looked at his arm to access the damage, he could fix it with some necrohealing but he could not risk doing it here as the pesky paladins would smell the taint of death on him. He looked back at Kell trying to figure out what it was which struck him.

As he turned he saw Kell’s pistol, smoke rising from it, that vermin, he knew he could not trust him. Kell’s action justified Avariss’s distrust towards other races. His anger was rising quickly and uncontrollably, his powers thriving from the negative energies, as if the void was inside him, his words coming out acidic and full of rage, with each passing moment he filled with more and more emotions, betrayal was one of the strongest that he felt. As the dark energies coursed through him he sensed the blood flow from his arm stopping, he watched as a sickly green glow was emitting from the pistolwound. His eyes were flaming with hatred and anger, his body glowing with fel energy he rose to his feet, he addressed Kell, his tone dripping with venom and hatred, “I swear Kell, I swear by the void that if this wasn't a mistake, I will feed your soul to the demons and incinerate your body, hopefully sending it to the damned thing which gave birth to you.”. He never realized he had so much anger inside of him.

For a moment Kell seemed to waver, uncertainty and fear covering his regularly confidant features. It was just a moment, but a moment was enough. He knew that Kell feared him; he despised him because he feared him, and deep inside, in some twisted domain it made Avariss proud. The human seemed to quickly regain his composure as he shrugged and claimed that it was a mistake and that everyone knew that the pistol was a faulty thing. It seemed to be hardly fitting for someone to create a whole plan around a faulty machine but Avariss let it slide, Gresh’Thoth calming him down and explaining that now would be a bad time to fight Kell. 

Not wanting to let the energies go to waste Avariss focused; he used the already created energies and tapped into them, empowering them. It seemed that Avariss’s body was answering the call of the void, as it responded well to the stored energies; his eyes became pools of dark green flame, bottomless pits of dark energy. His whole body glowed with fel magic. Forcing the energy to flow to his arms he let it out with a loud thunderclap, the energy leaving him and travelling like flying serpents through the air, finding their place in the various weaponry that the party used. “I hope for your own sake, that you have a semblance of honour left in you.” He spat at Kell. “I really hope that you don't give me any reason to question your words..." 

With that said Avariss turned away from Kell, pointing his sword at the troll he focused the remains of his energy at the edge of it and sent a lightning bolt at the troll, the dark green lightning hit the beast and charred its skin. The smell of burning hair and skin was strong in the air. The troll staggered back a little and like on que several gnolls emerged out of the woods around them to support their bigger comrade. “Deal with them.” Avariss muttered to Gresh’Thoth, sending him away to hunt the approaching reinforcements. He would deal with them easily. 

He heard Kell shouting over the commotion of battle about reevaluating their plan. Remembering the plan which revolved around the pistol Avariss quickly snapped at Kell, “There was never any plan to begin with, it’s a shame that humans like you lack the agility we elves tend to have.” Sending another lightning bolt at the troll he continued, “We are two, we would just have to wear it down, you are good with those two daggers you are using, keep harassing him, get his attention, I'll do what I do best, destroy him from afar. If you need I can send Gresh'Thoth to help you if he won't tear you to pieces". With that said Avariss backed off, leaving Kell to face the brute heads on.


----------



## Lord Ramo

Azreal turned like lightning when he heard a gnoll behind him, spinning on the spot with his blade held low, cloak furling behind him. As he turned he watched as the Gnoll that would have stabbed him in the back fall flat on its face with a blade sticking out of its back. Azreal noticed a sword sticking out of its back, the blade unmistakable to him as he had sparred against it so often. The blade belonged to Kilaren who moved over towards him to retrieve his blade. 
Azreal pulled his blade out of the Gnoll’s back and wordlessly handed the sword over to him. He offered no words of thanks, he would have been able to kill the Gnoll by himself. He simply nodded his head as Kilarn took place next to him as the pair prepared to fight the oncoming Gnolls with their dragons. 

The two dragons looked regal together, completely deadly. The shimmering Gold of Kilarn’s dragon and Navanash’s brilliant white scales shining as the two played around with the Gnolls, wounding them before throwing the wounded ones to the other dragon to finish off.

Azreal removed these thoughts from his mind as he turned his attention back to the Gnoll’s at hand, fighting alongside Kilaren with speed and grace that few could keep up with. The two of them fought as one, Kilaren intercepting blows that were meant for Azreal, as Azreal did the same for his fellow apprentice. Azreal did appreciate that he had the fellow high elf at his side, Kilaren being one of the few that Azreal felt more at ease with, and to his credit Kilaren could keep up with the paladin, unlike the humans and other members of the squad. 

The best thing about Kilaren was that he was completely unlike Avariss, and that he did not practice the arts of Fel magic, something that he loathed over everything else. It didn’t help that Azreal’s mage-sight could see the two fel bastards, Andaleth and Avariss begin to unleash their terrible power.

Before Azreal could turn and deal with the two of them he could hear thunderous footsteps lumbering out of the forest in front of the group. Instantly Azreal knew it wouldn’t be anything good and held his position, flexing his grip on his blade as their new foe approached. A forest troll crashed its way through the tree’s heading towards Azreal and Kilaren and their dragons. Clutched in its right hand was a tree trunk that it was obviously going to use as a club.

Azreal turned to regard Kilaren, Aussir and Navanash. _*“We have to work together to take this beast down, me and Navanash shall distract it from the front, Kilaren, if you can get behind it with Aussir then we may have a chance. What do you think?”*_

Navanash stared coolly at Azreal as he responded privately to him, "Azreal this course of action is rather risky, especially for one as small as you. I could probably take a hit or two from the troll, but I'm not sure how you could handle a hit."

Azreal placed a hand on his dragon's side before responding, *"The troll has to hit me first Navanash. I have fought things far worse than this beast before and remained pretty much unscathed. Do not worry about me I shall be fine."* He turned back to Kilaren for his reply.


----------



## Santaire

I could see why Azreal was praised by Xerxia, I really could. Every blow was perfectly timed, using exactly the right amount of force to end the life of those he duelled. It was almost as if he had measured the force needed for a killing blow, he was so precise in his movements. There were no wasted strokes, no weak lungs; no second chances when fighting a swordsman of his calibre

We danced in that welter of blood and death, while Navanash and Aussir tore Gnolls apart with their claws and fangs. I intercepted a blow from a pike that would have plunged deep into Azreal’s back had Húron not been there to turn it aside. As I drove her through that Gnoll’s chest Azreal’s shield intercepted arrows aimed for my back. Our fight was full of occasions like this where we each saved the others life and all through it Navanash and Aussir were blurs of white and gold with claws and teeth red with blood.

I could not help feeling some disgruntlement at this. After all I had been cleaning Aussir only a few hours before and now her scales were more crimson than gold. But at least she was still living, still fighting. There was something calming in fighting in the presence of such magnificent creatures, something fulfilling. It enhanced my skill, that calm. It made me react faster when my mind was not clouded with emotion, made me think faster and more logically.

Then I felt the pounding beneath my feet as the troll rushed onto the road, headed straight for myself and Azreal. I gripped my sword tighter and felt joy, joy at the sight of such a challenge “We have to work together to take this beast down, me and Navanash shall distract it from the front, Kilaren, if you can get behind it with Aussir then we may have a chance. What do you think?” Azreal’s voice penetrated my reverie and I spoke myself only a moment after he was finished.

“There is nothing else we can do with the time we have my friend.” Then the troll finally reached the road and I spoke so quietly that none could hear me over the beast’s roar. “Let the blood that stains my hands finally be washed clean. Please...”


----------



## revan4559

Andaleth : The Gnoll shaman infront of you lets out an angry hiss before the hiss becomes a cackling howling laugh as he charges towards you in an ungainly swaying run as the glowing eye sockets on the tip of its staff blaze with more power as it howls syllables in its odd language. The Gnoll then stops several feet from you and thrusts the head of its staff out towards you as the glowing eyes of the skull unleash several crackling red lightning bolts towards you which you easily counter with your own lightning but before you are able to call upon another spell the shaman charges forwards and begins swinging its staff at you as it grips it in both of its paws, you can clearly see that there is still red lightning gathered in the sockets of the human skull and that it would be very unwise for you to allow him to land even a single hit as you do not know what kind of powers the shaman has at his disposal or even what kind of power is trapped within that staff. Now the staff is closer however you can see faint arcane lines etched into the human skull but they are too precise to be made by any creature such as a Gnoll which brings you to the conclusion that this staff must of belonged to a warlock or mage of some kind before it someone found its way into the paws of this filthy Gnoll. Now that the shaman is trying to engage you in melee you have the advantage of your training from Lady Xerxia to call upon along with your Fel magic, you are confident in yourself to decide to try a pure blend of Fel Magic and swordsmanship against this shaman. (You are free to kill the shaman in this post if you wish Midge and as usual we can work out something over msn, for now Sirrush just has Gnolls to deal with so you don’t need to post much for him unless you wish to.)

Azreal : Charging forward to meet the troll head on you easily jump to the right as its brings it massive tree-club down in a two handed strike that shakes the ground and throws up dirt into the air, even with your full plate armour on you are easily quicker than a stupid monster like the troll, smiling to yourself under your helmet you duck under another swing of its club before you roll towards the Troll and bring up your shining blade to cut into its scales which for you is like trying to cut into several layers of chainmail and while you manage it as you withdraw your blade to dodge back from the trolls fist you see that the wound you had inflicted has already started to heal. As the troll turns to face you Narvanash darts out from your left and slams into the troll managing to rake his claws across its head and even manages to gouge out the trolls right eye before nimbly jumping away from the troll as the brute attempts to punch Narvanash in the ribs. As you and Narvanash continue to face about the troll at the front you see that Kilaren and Aussir have managed to get behind the troll and have started to attack it aswell scoring some deep wounds but the trolls regenerate is just too quick to allow you to deal any lashing damage but now that the troll is constantly spinning around in circles it is unable to decide on who to focus its anger on. You will need to come up with a plan on how to deal lasting damage to the troll with the help of Sirrush, Kilaren and Aussir. (When you and Santaire figured out how to deal lasting damage to the troll between the two of you, you can heavily wound it.)

Avariss : Evening as you tell Kell to deal with the Gnolls you see the inky black form of Typhon bursts from the shadows and lands upon the trolls back as he digs his claws into its tough hide as his head whips around jaws open to size the troll by the back of the neck but the Troll merely lets out an angry bellow before grabbing Typhon behind the head with its free hand and wrenches your dragon off of its back and with an awesome feat of monstrous strength hurls the shadow dragon into Gresh’Thoth. As the two dragons snarl and snap at each other as they try to untangle themselves you see the Gnolls charge towards both of the dragons but your focus has to remain on the troll clearly thinking the dragons can take of themselves. Mentally skimming all the destructive spells you know you realize that lightning will not be enough to combat the troll as such monsters can only really be hurt by fire and acid though while you have a small vile of acid in the potions bag at your side you highly doubt it will be enough to kill the control so you will have to focus on all of the fired based Fel magic that you know. As you start to spit out the syllables for a Fel Fire Storm to catch the smell of burning and see that Andaleth has set part of the forest on fire in his duel with what appears to be a Gnoll shaman but quickly push such distractions to the back of your mind as you focus on the troll infront of you. As you continue to speak the incantation of your spell Gresh’Thoth joins you with both of his jaws covered in Gnoll flesh and blood having dealt with those who sought to attack him. (Gresh’Thoth is yours to control in this update as dragons are pretty much resistant to fire so use that to your advantage, between you and Kell you can heavily wound the troll.)

Kilaren : As Narvanash and Azreal charge forward to keep the troll occupied you and Aussir slowly make your way behind it trying not to catch its attention while easily killing any remaining Gnolls that attempt to attack you or sneak up on Azreal and his dragon. As you move around behind the troll you look out across the forest trail to see that your fellow apprentices are either finishing off the Gnolls, with Kell and the warlock Avariss trying to bring down a second troll with the help of their dragons with the other warlock Andaleth engaged in some form of magic duel with what appears to be a Gnoll shaman which in turn has set fire to some of the surrounding forest. It seems that Andaleth has no concern for collateral damage and what it could mean if the fire spreads and you can clearly see concern for the forest written on the face of Endras the wood elf. Finally getting behind the troll you and Aussir start to launch swift strong attacks against its back and you find trying to penetrate the scaly hide of the troll is like trying to cut through several layers of chainmail and that any wounds you deal to the creature start to heal over within moments of you withdrawing your blade. Trying to remember the old tales of trolls you recall that only fire and acid can hurt these beasts and you let out a sigh remembering that all your dragons still have another year of growth before they are able to breathe fire. For now you, Aussir, Azreal and Narvanash carry on attacking the troll forcing it to spin around wildly as it can not concentrate on which of you to attack. You will need to think of a way to deal lasting damage to the troll and then you remember that the forest is on fire. (When you and Ramo figured out how to deal lasting damage to the troll between the two of you, you can heavily wound it.)

Kell : As you think of Typhon you catch a glimpse of two glowing red eyes coming from the shadows created by the tree’s behind the troll before the lean inky black form of Typhon bursts from the shadows and lands upon the trolls back as he digs his claws into its tough hide as his head whips around jaws open to size the troll by the back of the neck but the Troll merely lets out an angry bellow before grabbing Typhon behind the head with its free hand and wrenches your dragon off of its back and with an awesome feat of monstrous strength hurls the shadow dragon into Gresh’Thoth. If the troll has been using its full strength when it had punched you it could of easily crushed your ribs but luckily for you it must think you’re not even worth its full strength. Turning your attention from the two dragons which are now snarling and snapping at each other with their fangs as they try to untangle themselves from each other you look back at the troll and try to come up with a plan of attack that won’t see you running into a suicide mission to give the damned warlock time to unleash more of his cursed spells. Having no better idea other than to try and distract it you start to move towards it as Avariss unleashes more of his Fel magic you see the large monstrous form of Gresh’Thoth lumber towards the troll and are awed by his size as the corrupt dragon is almost as large as the troll, moving reluctantly to join the corrupt dragon your ‘sixth’ sense kicks in as Typhon flips you into the air from behind before you land rather painfully in the saddle on his back, now that your dragon is being co-operative for the moment you might be able to deal with the troll. (Typhon is yours to control for your post, you can also work with Komanko to defeat the troll. Between the two of you, you can heavily wound it.)

Endras : As the forest trolls appear from the woods you let out a small groan as you watch the two monstrous stupid brutes entire the skirmish but what alarms you more is the fact that the magic duel between the shaman and Andaleth has caused some of the tree’s to burst into flames which is not stopped could possibly set the entire forest on fire which would kill everything within but you are unsure on how to stop the flames so you decide to deal with them after the fight has finished. Turning your attention to the trolls that Kell and Avariss are fighting you start notching arrows and firing them at the breath brute aiming for its nose and its eyes where your arrows will deal atleast some lasting damage as normally they wouldn’t be able to penetrate the trolls scaly hide. As you fire at the troll Jadeus jumps around the forest trail picking off those lone Gnolls that are trying to sneak up on your fellow apprentices and easily deals with them using his razor sharp claws and sword like fangs with the occasional whip of his tail sending Gnolls crashing into tree’s, other Gnolls or simply crushing them into the ground. Judging by the amount of Gnolls left it seems that the battle will soon be over however there are still the trolls to deal with. (Feel free to help Kell and Avariss heavily wound the troll they are fighting along with thinking of a plan to deal with the flaming forest.)

Aseer : Remaining upon Seraphim’s back you twist around as a foul reeking odor catches your attention along with heavy footfalls and the crashing noise of broken tree’s to see that two forest trolls have entered the battle raging on the bath. You see that Kell and the warlock Avariss are attempting to deal with one as Kilaren and Azreal fight another, the wood elf Endras like you is picking off the Gnolls still in the tree line while Jerome and Salas the dwarf charge around the ambush sight attacking what ever Gnolls dare come within the reach of their weapons. Notching one of your few barbed arrows you take careful aim at the troll that Kilaren and Azreal are fighting before loosing your arrow which flies straight and true to piece the left eyeball of the troll which staggers back with a bellow of rage as he uselessly tries to swat at the arrow now protruding from its skull. Before you can attempt to take out its second eye Seraphim spoils your shot by swinging around to lunge into a group of four Gnolls which in turn prompts you to draw your sword again and start to twist in your saddle as you attempt to hack at the Gnolls. With a final glance across the ambush sight you see that the battle will soon be other once the remaining Gnolls have been defeated and the trolls have been killed. If you shout that the battle is almost done to your fellow apprentices then it is up to you. (You have the group of 4 Gnolls to kill and then can kill up to a further five or after killing the four Gnolls you can join Kilaren and Azreal to fight their troll. If you join in the troll fight then you can help heavily wound it.)

Jerome and Salas : You still haven’t posted from the previous update so if you can do that then great, but also feel free to join in helping your fellow apprentices fight the trolls aswell.


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## Yru0

Following the cries of yet another arrow claiming its mark, Aseer twisted in the saddle to the sound of crashing trees and a roar which was the product of children’s darkest nightmares; a hideous odour preceded the trolls that tore through the undergrowth, almost as if the very air was suffocating in its presence. The archer was about to command his dragon to charge into the fray, but the two trolls were swiftly met by Kell, Avariss, Kilaren and Azrael, with fire blood and the sounds of swords piercing flesh accompanying the confrontation of rider, dragon and troll. Taking advantage of the lull in the fight around him, Aseer took stock of the battle: Endras was proving himself to be a truly capable bowman, slaughtering the Gnoll archers in droves, many before they could even nock an arrow – the elf’s bolts seemed to follow even the Gnolls that sought desperate shelter behind the tree line. Jerome and Salas meanwhile danced around the ambush site, utilising the speed of their dragons and the power of their blows to severe limbs, heads or entire torsos from any unfortunate that found itself in their path. “Aseer? We are in the middle of something!” Seraphim’s urging threw Aseer back into the moment, realising that he was in fact still a part of this fight, “Aye.” Reaching behind for his quiver, Aseer readied one of his few barbed arrows, the tip a grizzly horror that would embed itself deep inside flesh and tear apart all which it encountered on its travel; the result was often an arrow that caused as much damage when it was removed as when it entered, one’s insides became gore and many who survived the battle later perished from infection brought on by tiny barbs still embed in their flesh after the wound is cleaned. A casual observer would scoff at the shot: a top heavy arrow being fired from a mount over a distance great enough to cause even a clear shot to potentially go askew, and all without even considering the target; however, a trained eye would notice the slight breath out, the eerie mix of calm and concentration etched on Aseer’s face and the firm draw that preceded the release – the training of a Dragon rider. The mighty crack of the string snapping forward filled Aseer’s conscience as time seemed to slow, his hand instinctively correcting for the slightest miscalculation as the bolt accelerated onwards, the arrow made a low [twang] as it vibrated on it’s trajectory, bent and twisted by the sheer force placed upon it by the released tension. All of this occurred before the bolt even left the bow. An inhuman roar of agony widened Aseer’s view once more, as the Troll staggers back, desperately attempting to swat aside the arrow that lay embedded in its eye.

“Not a bad shot if I do say so myself.” Aseer hadn’t even finished his own compliment before he had another barbed arrow nocked, “Light’s out big guy.” However, the shot went far wide, disappearing into the trees. Aseer cursed as he gripped the saddle attempting to right himself, completely unprepared for Seraphim’s sudden leap. “Bugger all! Do you know few of those I have?” Seraphim’s blood-stained face twisted back at her rider, irritation clear, “Oh, I’m so sorry I spoiled your shot. Next time I’ll let the Gnolls get you, how’s that?” Aseer’s eyes widened as he realised his mistake. The group of four Gnolls - three if one didn’t count the creature rolling around in its own blood, a suspiciously Seraphim-sized bite mark of its torso absent – charged at dragon and rider, and were met by sword and claw. Aseer slashed to his left and right, forcing the Gnolls to take steps back rather than causing much damage. One Gnoll managed to wrap its filthy arm around Seraphim’s neck, whilst the drake tore into two of its brethren, and attempted to bring his sword arm about in a might cutting movement; however, the creature soon discovered that all that remained of its right arm was a stumb spouting gore, having been severed by the rider. Before the Gnoll could even register the appropriate degree of pain, Aseer’s sword pierced its skull and ended its life. All four Gnolls lay dead on the floor - and in most cases multiple pieces - around the duo; Aseer glanced once more at the battle, realising that it was close to finishing. “Keep at it! We have the monsters on the ropes!” Only the two forest trolls remained along with a diminutive number of Gnolls, from which the aggression and glee of combat had largely being replaced by fear of the mounted warriors and their mighty beasts. Aseer growled at his foes before pointing his sword, driven by inevitable victory, “Into them Seraphim!” The Gnolls seemed to become even more petrified by what could only be described as the malicious grin which appeared on the blood soaked dragon’s face. With a roar, the two charged into a group of four of their foes, the result of the confrontation already assured.


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## son of azurman

As Andaleth had a magic duel with the gnoll Salas rose to his feet. It was clear that the gnoll was no match for the mage and so turning on his heels salas turned to the forest trolls. The trolls were locked in combat with the others but there was no sign of Rolkaus, everywhere he looked he could not see him. running into the foliage he quickly found him. Rolkaus was locked in combat with a troll, a single beast that had fallen behind the others and was fending of the wyrm with its mighty club.

“Rolkaus duck!”

Salas yelled out shortly before letting out a mighty war cry and leaping into the air,like a pounce from a tiger he launched at the trolls face engulfed with rage at the damage Rolkaus had been dealt.Movement paced his eyes and everything turned to a blur all that he could make out was anger and blood.Eventually he awoke and not in the most comfortable of positions.the troll’s head lay atop of Salas’s belly pinning him,the rest of the body was scattered with arms in trees and the creatures body was in the center of the opening with salas stood in the centre surrounded by blood and gore.

“ha we sure showed him,er hello anyone help!”Salas chuckled but with little energy to stand he started to call to the others for aid.


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## Lord Ramo

Azreal smiled underneath his helm as he charged forward fearlessly, sprinting straight towards the troll. This would be an interesting challenge, and he hoped that his allies could get into position fast enough to attack the troll, which would completely throw it off. The troll saw him charging towards it, and with a deafening roar it charged towards him, a massive tree club in its hand as it rushed towards him bringing the club down in a powerful two handed strike.

Azreal nimbly jumped to the right, easily avoiding the club even in his full plate armour. His reflexes and speed were still so much faster than the trolls, one of the things that would see him victorious this day. The ground shook with the collision with the club, throwing up dirt and dust in the air, Azreal thankful that none of the stuff kicked up by the troll could limit his abilities or get in his eyes.

He ducked underneath the next swing of the club, rolling forward to bring himself right up next to the troll. He brought his shimmering blade up in a two handed strike, shield on his back as he sliced into its thick scales, making him even with his elven strength push hard as it felt like he was cutting through several layers of chain mail. He yanked his blade free of the trolls leg before the troll could hit him with its fists, leaping backwards as he notice the wound he had just inflicted already start to heal. 

As the troll turned to face hi Navanash, his brilliant white dragon leapt seemingly out of nowhere, leaping from the left it slammed into the troll, raking its skin with his huge claws and even gouging out his right eye. Navanash moved back as the troll tried to punch him, and Azreal leapt forward again to get its attention. As he and Navanash continued to fight the troll face to face he could see that Kilaren and Aussir had managed to maneuver behind the troll and both leapt to attack it, the for dealing damage to it as they attacked from multiple angles. 

They couldn't get any lasting damage on it though thanks to its ability of being able to heal, but it was confused by the attacks and constantly turning to deal with the damage, though it couldn't decide who to unleash his anger on. Azreal yelled over the roar to his companions, "Kilaren, go for the head with your dragon, try and damage its brain with your blades and teeth while me and Navanash keep it distracted." He yelled, they had to deal with it somehow, and the head was their best bet.


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## Malochai

The last pieces of of the gnoll’s eyeball slid slickly off the end of the arrow head, landing on Jadeus’ hide. A snort of indignation passed through the dragon’s snout, and he grumbled. *“Watch where you’re getting that. I imagine you won’t want to be cleaning it all up later unless you have to.”* A hint of smugness had entered the dragon’s voice, but the smile it elicited on the elf’s face was quickly removed when the source of the noise within the forest was revealed. The trolls limbered forwards eagerly, extremely ugly and even stupider. Jadeus made to leap at them, but Endras stopped him with a twitch of his feet. 

*“Jadeus, fire!”* he bellowed, gesturing towards the unnatural flames that had sprouted within the woods. Another snort passed through the dragon’s snout and an odd noise followed it. The elf immediately knew what was wrong; having spent so much time in woodlands with the dragon, they both had a connection with forests than most people. However, he heard the trolls stomping around the trail into the centre of the skirmish. He put the flames to the back of his mind; whilst he would have done anything within his power to put out the flames, he didn’t have the time to think about it; his fellow apprentices were in need of aid. With a graceful sweep of his arm, the elf drew an arrow from the quiver he wore over his shoulder and knocked it. He took aim, compensating for the rolling movements of the dragon beneath him and took a deep breath. He loosed, instantly drawing another arrow and taking aim once more, missing the result of his first. He thought desperately; his arrows wouldn’t make any difference to the bulk of the troll, at least no more than a fly bothering a horse, and came up with his solution. _‘The eyes,’_ he told himself disparagingly, and let loose his second arrow, and then another, and another, all aimed towards the ugly creature’s eyes. _‘Please, gods, let them fly true,’_ he thought, before Jadeus leapt. 

The sensation of tearing through the air was extraordinary, and Endras couldn’t wait until Jadeus could fly truly, and he knew that his companion felt the same. The sound of Gnoll bones cracking, their death screams, filled his ears and for a second, he allowed himself to glory in the power he was astride, before coming to his senses when he almost toppled from his saddle, _‘Get yourself together, Endras!’_ 

More arrows flew from his bow towards the troll that Kell and Avariss, but his mind wasn’t really on the fight; more the fire starting to send smoke curling into the trees. His soul cried out at the damage already being done, and knew how much worse it would get if not dealt with. The best he could think was getting Jadeus and the other dragons to uproot the trees and drag them away so he and the others could aid in putting out the fires, but that had its own risks.


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## Midge913

Despite the fact that Andaleth's spell raged around it, Fel lightnig called forth from the very core of Andaleth's being, the Shaman, the beastial Gnoll, lunged forward. It was obvious from its gait that one or all of Andaleth's spells had wounded it, but still it rushed on, its lurching strides closing the distance between the two combatants quickly. Andaleth sneered as it pulled up in front of him, its staff brandished in front of it, the path of the human skull evident as the beast swung the weapon, its glowing eyes tracing out the arc of its swing. Andaleth took a slight step back, his swords leaping to his hands in one deft motion, one held high, the other low across his body. Lifting his gaze, laughter bubbling on his lips, his contempt for the creature before him evident in his piercing gaze, so much so that the Gnoll, despite all of its feral prowess, began to tremble. As Crimson lightning spat forth from the depths of the skulls eye sockets, Andaleth almost felt, lost so he was in the pulsing torent of magic that engulfed him, that time began to crawl, like a helpless insect through a pool of molasses. Thrusting his long sword into the ground below him, Andaleth raised his right hand and batted the spell, pathetic bursts of lightning, aside, its power no more than a nuisance. 

Fear.... Fear laced the air, he could feel it, smell it on the air, wafting, seeping from the wretched beast before him. He had no respect for it, the creature was worth nothing, mattered none, but still he mustered an ounce of respect, admiration for the depth of its stupidity, as it rushed forward, using its arcane staff as a weapon of blunt violence. Clearly it hoped to crush Andaleth's skull with a lucky blow. With ease Andaleth withdrew his long sword from the earth, a flash of fire clearing the blade of detritus as it rose to meet the arcing staff. The second their weapons met, a flash of sparks, orange and red, blossomed into life, bathing the clearing in which they stood in stuttering light. Each of the beasts swings met Andaleth's cold steel, its wild strikes keeping Andaleth at bay, unable to mount a counterstrike. In the midst of the melee, Andaleth noticed, that the staff, despite the fact that it was born by a savage thug, was intricately made, the shaft carved with intricate lacing arcane script. This was not the work of a half-sentient beast, but scavenged from some sorcerer or warlock that had met their end at the Shaman's hand. Perhaps it was this arcane artifact that allowed the beast to channel magical power at all. Either way, this fight would see the foul staff destroyed and its bearer dead. Andaleth vowed to see to that. 

The beast tired, Andaleth could feel that its strikes came with less frequency and far less accuracy. The time was his to strike. The forms of the sword, taught to him by Lady Xerxia sprang to mind, his own names given to each to help in rememberance. A surge in confidence, brought on by the thought of the mistress of the blades, her stern glare seemingly bearing down on him from the depths of his own imagination, drove him forward, graceful and deadly. The Heron in the Lillies flowed to the Kingfisher in Flight, as his blades flashed outward in a pattern to fast and accurate for the Gnoll to match. 

His shortsword flashed out, a viper like slash to the right, and he felt the resistance as it took the Gnolls, left arm off just below the elbow. Blood flew as the beast screamed in pain, trying to bring its staff up to protect itself, only to have Andaleth's longsword meet it, the blade of the sword glowing orange with power as Andaleth infused his magic into it. A thunderclap, a noise loud enough to leave his ears ringing pealed as the blade took the human skull from the end of the staff. The backlash of power washed over Andaleth, coursing around him like the tide, and as his vision cleared from the blinding pulse of light he found the Gnoll, the shaman who moments before stood before him, so sure in its own power, writhing on the ground, blood pouring from its ears and mouth and the empty sockets where its eyes had been. The wailing scream that ripped from its through enough to pull at Andaleth's soul. With a grunt of effort, his long sword whistled through the air, and the sceaming stopped, the dull thud of the beast's head hitting the ground thunderous in the midst of the sudden silence.


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## Santaire

I watched as Azreal and Narvanash charged straight for the troll.

With Aussir at my side I circled it and saw the layout of the battle. Andaleth was in a magical duel with a Gnoll Shaman, Avariss and Kell fought another troll and the rest of the apprentices were in combat with the Gnolls. Even as I watched, I saw fire leap from one of the duelling warlocks and set the forest ablaze. I kept circling the troll, cutting down any Gnolls that got in my way as I did so. One lunged for me with a spear and I sidestepped, grasped the haft of the spear and kicked the Gnoll in the face, snapping its head back with a crack. I took the spear from its dying grasp and hurled it, watching it plunge into the back of a Gnoll about to attack Azreal

When I was finally behind the troll I attacked with Aussir at my side, savaging it. But very few of my blows penetrated its thick hide and those that did, the cuts healed over as soon as my blade was withdrawn. I kept attacking, praying that a cut would get through and remain but I had no such luck. Even the mighty claws of Aussir could not cause lasting damage. The troll seemed unable to decide which of us to attack, constantly turning to swipe at me before turning back to attack Azreal.

I heard Azreal shout. "Kilaren, go for the head with your dragon, try and damage its brain with your blades and teeth while me and Navanash keep it distracted."

“Toss me,” I snapped to Aussir. The surprise was evident in her voice when she responded with a question but I had no time for answering. “Just toss me at the goddamn troll’s head.” I ran at her and jumped and she slapped me towards the troll. It would hurt like hell later, but at that moment in time I was too pumped on adrenaline to notice.

I landed on the troll’s shoulder and Húron flashed in the sunlight as I clove deep wounds in the troll’s head. But they healed over just as fast and the troll reached up a hand, bellowing. I dropped from its shoulder and sank my blade into its back, ripping it from side to side but when I wrenched it free and flipped back to the ground, the evidence that I had done anything faded from sight. I cursed and then remembered that the only things capable of hurting trolls was fire and acid. But it was another year before any of the dragons would be breathing fire and the warlocks were occupied. I was about to attack the troll again when I heard a howling battle cry behind me.

I ducked and rolled to one side, coming up with Húron held up at waist height. The screaming Gnoll ran onto the gleaming blade and its battle cry turned into a scream of pain. I spun, ripping the blade free from the Gnoll’s waist and bringing it round for a coup de grâce that severed its head. I found myself gazing into the crackling fire consuming the forest and an idea struck me. I turned back to the troll, a smile of savage pleasure on my face. “Azreal,” I called. “The fire, we need to push it into the fire...”


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