Characters
Faelara
Mordecai
Morro
Okoto
Psyche
Eros
Morwena
Tesla
Valkyrie
Aniu
Raksha
Heimdall
Alack
Tonatiuh
Archimedes
Gaia
Roleplay
Tell stories and roleplay in the world of Flight Rising.
TOPIC | Imp & Fiend [1x1 with Raivoid]
[center][u][b]Characters[/b]
[/u][/center]
[center][b]Faelara[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i58.tinypic.com/23w62xk.png[/img][/center]
[center][b]Mordecai[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i61.tinypic.com/azjqc3.png[/img][/center]
[center][b]Morro[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i59.tinypic.com/2mg43s2.png[/img][/center]
[center][b]Okoto[/b][/center]
[center][img] http://i58.tinypic.com/2ziuhxs.png [/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Psyche[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i57.tinypic.com/wtuicn.png[/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Eros[/b][/center]
[center][img] http://i59.tinypic.com/2jg31at.png [/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Morwena[/b][/center]
[center][img] http://i59.tinypic.com/xc6f50.png [/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Tesla[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i62.tinypic.com/5tyw7s.png[/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Valkyrie[/b][/center]
[center][img] http://i61.tinypic.com/2rdeyqv.png [/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Aniu[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i62.tinypic.com/2uf7fup.png[/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Raksha[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i59.tinypic.com/35kvogh.png[/img][/center]
[center][b]Heimdall[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i57.tinypic.com/2w6s9k4.png[/img][/center]
[center][b]Alack[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i62.tinypic.com/m8d075.png[/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Tonatiuh[/b][/center]
[center][img] http://i60.tinypic.com/2hek08g.png [/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Archimedes[/b][/center]
[center][img] http://i58.tinypic.com/2rz5euu.png [/img]
[/center]
[center][b]Gaia[/b][/center]
[center][img]http://i62.tinypic.com/2rg026s.png[/img]
[/center]
A pale shadow haunted the forest tonight.
Night had just fallen upon the Shadowbinder’s domain, and that was when darkness truly fell on that wet, musky land. Well, the Tangled Wood was hardly that welcoming at dawn or dusk, hauntingly beautiful as it was. Something stalked the murky shadows – something dark and ugly and-
Ah, there he went, being all broody again. Could anyone really blame him, though? Decades under an ancient curse could do eldritch things to a dragon’s mind. Or, rather, a former dragon’s mind. He could not very well be called a drake now. Not with the melted, calcified remains of the dead that spattered his hide or his once-leather wings whittled down to little more than tendon and bone.
And Arcanist’s sheltering wings but his body ached!
He swore that the bones melted into his skin became stiffer and sharper with every passing year. One day he would scarcely be able to move at all as it slowly but surely covered his body in a brittle encasement. And not long after that would be his end by starvation or sickness. A part of him dearly wished for day when death would release him from his sentence, the same part of him that had long since lost hope and was so selfish and quick to forget the clanmates who had been doomed along with him…
Sighing, he loped with surprising silence through the glowing brush towards the nearby stream. A dip in its cool, running waters would soothe the pains of his calcifying body, even if it was only for a few hours. At last he stepped through the trees and onto the black sand shore. Down a trail he had worn through years of walking the same path, he made his way down to the water, looking forward to its liquid relief-
Snap!
The breaking of twig all but shattered the silence of the night. His wedge-shaped skull of a head shot up and swiveled back and forth for the source of the noise. A hiss like the breath of the dying escaped his chest, a quiet cry of fear and warning. Seldom anyone passed through this stretch of swamp and forest for fear of the “monster” that dwelt within twisting trees. Not even the most daring Shadow dragons cared to test their wiles against the rumored, ancient ghost and his dreaded band-
Brooding – he was brooding again. Focus, Mordecai, focus, he chided himself. Whoever it was there in the brush, it could very well be a threat to his comrades. He had to sneak about it somehow, get a bearing upon his enemy, and, if necessary, eliminate them…
@Raivoid
Night had just fallen upon the Shadowbinder’s domain, and that was when darkness truly fell on that wet, musky land. Well, the Tangled Wood was hardly that welcoming at dawn or dusk, hauntingly beautiful as it was. Something stalked the murky shadows – something dark and ugly and-
Ah, there he went, being all broody again. Could anyone really blame him, though? Decades under an ancient curse could do eldritch things to a dragon’s mind. Or, rather, a former dragon’s mind. He could not very well be called a drake now. Not with the melted, calcified remains of the dead that spattered his hide or his once-leather wings whittled down to little more than tendon and bone.
And Arcanist’s sheltering wings but his body ached!
He swore that the bones melted into his skin became stiffer and sharper with every passing year. One day he would scarcely be able to move at all as it slowly but surely covered his body in a brittle encasement. And not long after that would be his end by starvation or sickness. A part of him dearly wished for day when death would release him from his sentence, the same part of him that had long since lost hope and was so selfish and quick to forget the clanmates who had been doomed along with him…
Sighing, he loped with surprising silence through the glowing brush towards the nearby stream. A dip in its cool, running waters would soothe the pains of his calcifying body, even if it was only for a few hours. At last he stepped through the trees and onto the black sand shore. Down a trail he had worn through years of walking the same path, he made his way down to the water, looking forward to its liquid relief-
Snap!
The breaking of twig all but shattered the silence of the night. His wedge-shaped skull of a head shot up and swiveled back and forth for the source of the noise. A hiss like the breath of the dying escaped his chest, a quiet cry of fear and warning. Seldom anyone passed through this stretch of swamp and forest for fear of the “monster” that dwelt within twisting trees. Not even the most daring Shadow dragons cared to test their wiles against the rumored, ancient ghost and his dreaded band-
Brooding – he was brooding again. Focus, Mordecai, focus, he chided himself. Whoever it was there in the brush, it could very well be a threat to his comrades. He had to sneak about it somehow, get a bearing upon his enemy, and, if necessary, eliminate them…
@Raivoid
A pale shadow haunted the forest tonight.
Night had just fallen upon the Shadowbinder’s domain, and that was when darkness truly fell on that wet, musky land. Well, the Tangled Wood was hardly that welcoming at dawn or dusk, hauntingly beautiful as it was. Something stalked the murky shadows – something dark and ugly and-
Ah, there he went, being all broody again. Could anyone really blame him, though? Decades under an ancient curse could do eldritch things to a dragon’s mind. Or, rather, a former dragon’s mind. He could not very well be called a drake now. Not with the melted, calcified remains of the dead that spattered his hide or his once-leather wings whittled down to little more than tendon and bone.
And Arcanist’s sheltering wings but his body ached!
He swore that the bones melted into his skin became stiffer and sharper with every passing year. One day he would scarcely be able to move at all as it slowly but surely covered his body in a brittle encasement. And not long after that would be his end by starvation or sickness. A part of him dearly wished for day when death would release him from his sentence, the same part of him that had long since lost hope and was so selfish and quick to forget the clanmates who had been doomed along with him…
Sighing, he loped with surprising silence through the glowing brush towards the nearby stream. A dip in its cool, running waters would soothe the pains of his calcifying body, even if it was only for a few hours. At last he stepped through the trees and onto the black sand shore. Down a trail he had worn through years of walking the same path, he made his way down to the water, looking forward to its liquid relief-
Snap!
The breaking of twig all but shattered the silence of the night. His wedge-shaped skull of a head shot up and swiveled back and forth for the source of the noise. A hiss like the breath of the dying escaped his chest, a quiet cry of fear and warning. Seldom anyone passed through this stretch of swamp and forest for fear of the “monster” that dwelt within twisting trees. Not even the most daring Shadow dragons cared to test their wiles against the rumored, ancient ghost and his dreaded band-
Brooding – he was brooding again. Focus, Mordecai, focus, he chided himself. Whoever it was there in the brush, it could very well be a threat to his comrades. He had to sneak about it somehow, get a bearing upon his enemy, and, if necessary, eliminate them…
@Raivoid
Night had just fallen upon the Shadowbinder’s domain, and that was when darkness truly fell on that wet, musky land. Well, the Tangled Wood was hardly that welcoming at dawn or dusk, hauntingly beautiful as it was. Something stalked the murky shadows – something dark and ugly and-
Ah, there he went, being all broody again. Could anyone really blame him, though? Decades under an ancient curse could do eldritch things to a dragon’s mind. Or, rather, a former dragon’s mind. He could not very well be called a drake now. Not with the melted, calcified remains of the dead that spattered his hide or his once-leather wings whittled down to little more than tendon and bone.
And Arcanist’s sheltering wings but his body ached!
He swore that the bones melted into his skin became stiffer and sharper with every passing year. One day he would scarcely be able to move at all as it slowly but surely covered his body in a brittle encasement. And not long after that would be his end by starvation or sickness. A part of him dearly wished for day when death would release him from his sentence, the same part of him that had long since lost hope and was so selfish and quick to forget the clanmates who had been doomed along with him…
Sighing, he loped with surprising silence through the glowing brush towards the nearby stream. A dip in its cool, running waters would soothe the pains of his calcifying body, even if it was only for a few hours. At last he stepped through the trees and onto the black sand shore. Down a trail he had worn through years of walking the same path, he made his way down to the water, looking forward to its liquid relief-
Snap!
The breaking of twig all but shattered the silence of the night. His wedge-shaped skull of a head shot up and swiveled back and forth for the source of the noise. A hiss like the breath of the dying escaped his chest, a quiet cry of fear and warning. Seldom anyone passed through this stretch of swamp and forest for fear of the “monster” that dwelt within twisting trees. Not even the most daring Shadow dragons cared to test their wiles against the rumored, ancient ghost and his dreaded band-
Brooding – he was brooding again. Focus, Mordecai, focus, he chided himself. Whoever it was there in the brush, it could very well be a threat to his comrades. He had to sneak about it somehow, get a bearing upon his enemy, and, if necessary, eliminate them…
@Raivoid
@XenSilverQuill
A thick, inky layer of clouds hung high above the Tangled Wood, blotting out the few silver rays of moonlight that struggled to reach the cursed land below. Down on the ground a swirling mist brewed, dancing around the glowing mushrooms and rotting trees. Strange shadows flitted about in the unnatural mist, lacking any definite shape or size. They moved far too quickly to be dragons, and changed sizes too often to be anything in the realm of the living.
A thick layer of dew clung to Faelara's body as she skimmed through the near-black clouds. It was always chilly in the Shadowbinder's domain, but high up in the clouds the cold bit viciously at her wings. She could feel the dew drops freezing and re-melting as they hit her crimson scales. The Imperial shivered, her cyan eyes trained on the murky ground. Her wing beats were growing slower and more laborious as the cold and fatigue took their toll. She'd been in the air for hours, having flown non-stop from the Gladeveins. If not for the unfavorable winds she'd encountered on her way, she'd be past the Tangled Wood by now.
Yet, she had not been in the Windsinger's domain, where the winds were always favorable. It had cost her precious time and stamina to fight against the oceanic winds between the Gladekeeper's home and the land of the Shadowbinder. So here she was now, faced with an unpleasant choice. Continue flying in the inky darkness, unsure of which way she was really heading, or land down in the mist below, where untold horrors lurked in the shadows.
Faelara sighed, the puff of air coming out in a cloud of thick vapor. If she kept flying, she may injure herself, or have to deal with hypothermia. Perhaps she would even find herself flying west, straight into the Plaguebringer's twisted lands. Bad as these shadow-bound lands were, she dreaded the evils of the Plague flight more.
Untold Horrors it is... She thought dryly, tilting her wings down in a gentle descent. Faelara frowned slightly at how unresponsive her wings felt; it was as if they were weighted down by pounds of lead. Glancing to the side, she noticed a thin latticework of hoarfrost clinging to her feathered appendages. Perhaps she was colder than she'd first thought. All the more reason to chance her luck down below.
The glowing mushrooms below cast an eerie blue light on their surroundings, revealing just enough for her to make out a thin stream winding between the finger-like evergreens. A quick drink would do her good, and there was a strip of clear land along the bank. At least she'd be able to see anything creeping up behind her. The Imperial longed for the open plains of her home, where one could see enemies long before they had a chance to stab you in the back. Here, there's no telling what hid feet away in the damp, murky shadows.
Her wings rustled softly as she folded them closer to her body, landing with a soft thud at the edge of the shore. She'd overestimated the size of the clearing, the mist making it impossible to accurately gauge size from such a distance. Her fur-tipped tail crashed into a dry, thorned bush behind her, numerous sickle shaped thorns lodging themselves in the soft areas beneath her shimmery scales. Faelara hissed softly, drawing her tail towards her. After glancing around to be sure nothing had heard the commotion and come to look, she began the task of gingerly removing each thorn.
"Windsinger help me, but this place reeks of evil." She muttered, spitting out a thorn with distaste. The whole place smelled of mildew and decay, along with fainter hints of other putrid odors. As she yanked out the last sticker, a chilling hiss met her ears, muffled by the surrounding mist. Faelara drew her wings and tail close, crouching into a more protective position. Her eyes darted around, trying in vain to see more than a few feet in front of her.
"Who's out there? Show yourself, or I'll rip you to shreds!" She growled. The mist dulled her voice, bouncing it around in all directions. It unnerved her how a sound could travel in such an odd way, making it nigh on impossible to determine where it had originated from.
A thick, inky layer of clouds hung high above the Tangled Wood, blotting out the few silver rays of moonlight that struggled to reach the cursed land below. Down on the ground a swirling mist brewed, dancing around the glowing mushrooms and rotting trees. Strange shadows flitted about in the unnatural mist, lacking any definite shape or size. They moved far too quickly to be dragons, and changed sizes too often to be anything in the realm of the living.
A thick layer of dew clung to Faelara's body as she skimmed through the near-black clouds. It was always chilly in the Shadowbinder's domain, but high up in the clouds the cold bit viciously at her wings. She could feel the dew drops freezing and re-melting as they hit her crimson scales. The Imperial shivered, her cyan eyes trained on the murky ground. Her wing beats were growing slower and more laborious as the cold and fatigue took their toll. She'd been in the air for hours, having flown non-stop from the Gladeveins. If not for the unfavorable winds she'd encountered on her way, she'd be past the Tangled Wood by now.
Yet, she had not been in the Windsinger's domain, where the winds were always favorable. It had cost her precious time and stamina to fight against the oceanic winds between the Gladekeeper's home and the land of the Shadowbinder. So here she was now, faced with an unpleasant choice. Continue flying in the inky darkness, unsure of which way she was really heading, or land down in the mist below, where untold horrors lurked in the shadows.
Faelara sighed, the puff of air coming out in a cloud of thick vapor. If she kept flying, she may injure herself, or have to deal with hypothermia. Perhaps she would even find herself flying west, straight into the Plaguebringer's twisted lands. Bad as these shadow-bound lands were, she dreaded the evils of the Plague flight more.
Untold Horrors it is... She thought dryly, tilting her wings down in a gentle descent. Faelara frowned slightly at how unresponsive her wings felt; it was as if they were weighted down by pounds of lead. Glancing to the side, she noticed a thin latticework of hoarfrost clinging to her feathered appendages. Perhaps she was colder than she'd first thought. All the more reason to chance her luck down below.
The glowing mushrooms below cast an eerie blue light on their surroundings, revealing just enough for her to make out a thin stream winding between the finger-like evergreens. A quick drink would do her good, and there was a strip of clear land along the bank. At least she'd be able to see anything creeping up behind her. The Imperial longed for the open plains of her home, where one could see enemies long before they had a chance to stab you in the back. Here, there's no telling what hid feet away in the damp, murky shadows.
Her wings rustled softly as she folded them closer to her body, landing with a soft thud at the edge of the shore. She'd overestimated the size of the clearing, the mist making it impossible to accurately gauge size from such a distance. Her fur-tipped tail crashed into a dry, thorned bush behind her, numerous sickle shaped thorns lodging themselves in the soft areas beneath her shimmery scales. Faelara hissed softly, drawing her tail towards her. After glancing around to be sure nothing had heard the commotion and come to look, she began the task of gingerly removing each thorn.
"Windsinger help me, but this place reeks of evil." She muttered, spitting out a thorn with distaste. The whole place smelled of mildew and decay, along with fainter hints of other putrid odors. As she yanked out the last sticker, a chilling hiss met her ears, muffled by the surrounding mist. Faelara drew her wings and tail close, crouching into a more protective position. Her eyes darted around, trying in vain to see more than a few feet in front of her.
"Who's out there? Show yourself, or I'll rip you to shreds!" She growled. The mist dulled her voice, bouncing it around in all directions. It unnerved her how a sound could travel in such an odd way, making it nigh on impossible to determine where it had originated from.
@XenSilverQuill
A thick, inky layer of clouds hung high above the Tangled Wood, blotting out the few silver rays of moonlight that struggled to reach the cursed land below. Down on the ground a swirling mist brewed, dancing around the glowing mushrooms and rotting trees. Strange shadows flitted about in the unnatural mist, lacking any definite shape or size. They moved far too quickly to be dragons, and changed sizes too often to be anything in the realm of the living.
A thick layer of dew clung to Faelara's body as she skimmed through the near-black clouds. It was always chilly in the Shadowbinder's domain, but high up in the clouds the cold bit viciously at her wings. She could feel the dew drops freezing and re-melting as they hit her crimson scales. The Imperial shivered, her cyan eyes trained on the murky ground. Her wing beats were growing slower and more laborious as the cold and fatigue took their toll. She'd been in the air for hours, having flown non-stop from the Gladeveins. If not for the unfavorable winds she'd encountered on her way, she'd be past the Tangled Wood by now.
Yet, she had not been in the Windsinger's domain, where the winds were always favorable. It had cost her precious time and stamina to fight against the oceanic winds between the Gladekeeper's home and the land of the Shadowbinder. So here she was now, faced with an unpleasant choice. Continue flying in the inky darkness, unsure of which way she was really heading, or land down in the mist below, where untold horrors lurked in the shadows.
Faelara sighed, the puff of air coming out in a cloud of thick vapor. If she kept flying, she may injure herself, or have to deal with hypothermia. Perhaps she would even find herself flying west, straight into the Plaguebringer's twisted lands. Bad as these shadow-bound lands were, she dreaded the evils of the Plague flight more.
Untold Horrors it is... She thought dryly, tilting her wings down in a gentle descent. Faelara frowned slightly at how unresponsive her wings felt; it was as if they were weighted down by pounds of lead. Glancing to the side, she noticed a thin latticework of hoarfrost clinging to her feathered appendages. Perhaps she was colder than she'd first thought. All the more reason to chance her luck down below.
The glowing mushrooms below cast an eerie blue light on their surroundings, revealing just enough for her to make out a thin stream winding between the finger-like evergreens. A quick drink would do her good, and there was a strip of clear land along the bank. At least she'd be able to see anything creeping up behind her. The Imperial longed for the open plains of her home, where one could see enemies long before they had a chance to stab you in the back. Here, there's no telling what hid feet away in the damp, murky shadows.
Her wings rustled softly as she folded them closer to her body, landing with a soft thud at the edge of the shore. She'd overestimated the size of the clearing, the mist making it impossible to accurately gauge size from such a distance. Her fur-tipped tail crashed into a dry, thorned bush behind her, numerous sickle shaped thorns lodging themselves in the soft areas beneath her shimmery scales. Faelara hissed softly, drawing her tail towards her. After glancing around to be sure nothing had heard the commotion and come to look, she began the task of gingerly removing each thorn.
"Windsinger help me, but this place reeks of evil." She muttered, spitting out a thorn with distaste. The whole place smelled of mildew and decay, along with fainter hints of other putrid odors. As she yanked out the last sticker, a chilling hiss met her ears, muffled by the surrounding mist. Faelara drew her wings and tail close, crouching into a more protective position. Her eyes darted around, trying in vain to see more than a few feet in front of her.
"Who's out there? Show yourself, or I'll rip you to shreds!" She growled. The mist dulled her voice, bouncing it around in all directions. It unnerved her how a sound could travel in such an odd way, making it nigh on impossible to determine where it had originated from.
A thick, inky layer of clouds hung high above the Tangled Wood, blotting out the few silver rays of moonlight that struggled to reach the cursed land below. Down on the ground a swirling mist brewed, dancing around the glowing mushrooms and rotting trees. Strange shadows flitted about in the unnatural mist, lacking any definite shape or size. They moved far too quickly to be dragons, and changed sizes too often to be anything in the realm of the living.
A thick layer of dew clung to Faelara's body as she skimmed through the near-black clouds. It was always chilly in the Shadowbinder's domain, but high up in the clouds the cold bit viciously at her wings. She could feel the dew drops freezing and re-melting as they hit her crimson scales. The Imperial shivered, her cyan eyes trained on the murky ground. Her wing beats were growing slower and more laborious as the cold and fatigue took their toll. She'd been in the air for hours, having flown non-stop from the Gladeveins. If not for the unfavorable winds she'd encountered on her way, she'd be past the Tangled Wood by now.
Yet, she had not been in the Windsinger's domain, where the winds were always favorable. It had cost her precious time and stamina to fight against the oceanic winds between the Gladekeeper's home and the land of the Shadowbinder. So here she was now, faced with an unpleasant choice. Continue flying in the inky darkness, unsure of which way she was really heading, or land down in the mist below, where untold horrors lurked in the shadows.
Faelara sighed, the puff of air coming out in a cloud of thick vapor. If she kept flying, she may injure herself, or have to deal with hypothermia. Perhaps she would even find herself flying west, straight into the Plaguebringer's twisted lands. Bad as these shadow-bound lands were, she dreaded the evils of the Plague flight more.
Untold Horrors it is... She thought dryly, tilting her wings down in a gentle descent. Faelara frowned slightly at how unresponsive her wings felt; it was as if they were weighted down by pounds of lead. Glancing to the side, she noticed a thin latticework of hoarfrost clinging to her feathered appendages. Perhaps she was colder than she'd first thought. All the more reason to chance her luck down below.
The glowing mushrooms below cast an eerie blue light on their surroundings, revealing just enough for her to make out a thin stream winding between the finger-like evergreens. A quick drink would do her good, and there was a strip of clear land along the bank. At least she'd be able to see anything creeping up behind her. The Imperial longed for the open plains of her home, where one could see enemies long before they had a chance to stab you in the back. Here, there's no telling what hid feet away in the damp, murky shadows.
Her wings rustled softly as she folded them closer to her body, landing with a soft thud at the edge of the shore. She'd overestimated the size of the clearing, the mist making it impossible to accurately gauge size from such a distance. Her fur-tipped tail crashed into a dry, thorned bush behind her, numerous sickle shaped thorns lodging themselves in the soft areas beneath her shimmery scales. Faelara hissed softly, drawing her tail towards her. After glancing around to be sure nothing had heard the commotion and come to look, she began the task of gingerly removing each thorn.
"Windsinger help me, but this place reeks of evil." She muttered, spitting out a thorn with distaste. The whole place smelled of mildew and decay, along with fainter hints of other putrid odors. As she yanked out the last sticker, a chilling hiss met her ears, muffled by the surrounding mist. Faelara drew her wings and tail close, crouching into a more protective position. Her eyes darted around, trying in vain to see more than a few feet in front of her.
"Who's out there? Show yourself, or I'll rip you to shreds!" She growled. The mist dulled her voice, bouncing it around in all directions. It unnerved her how a sound could travel in such an odd way, making it nigh on impossible to determine where it had originated from.
A growl ripped through him instinctively at the challenge, the sound like the rattling of dragon scales against stone. This stranger had some nerve indeed, invading and dishing out threats in Mordecai’s own territory. For a moment the over grown bone fiend considered circling around in the rolling mist and breaking the intruder’s neck with a swift chomp of his jaws. That would be the quickest and best way to end it, to be sure. Safety for himself and his comrades relied on secrecy and rumors that wrapped themselves about the territory as protectively as any magical barrier. The fewer dragons that actually saw the “ghost” and band of demons the better.
Oh, but something in him wanted very much to go head-to-head with the stranger, the part of him that still refused to learn, even after all these years. He unconsciously drew up to his full height in the dark, full of battle-hunger and pride. If they wanted to be bold, what else could he do but answer with the same spirit?
“You have some audacity,” he hissed out once more, ”for an outsider and an intruder. If you knew who it was you were addressing, I wonder if you would be so keen issue such high demands… I give you but one warning. Leave this place the way you came, or I will rip you to shreds.”
Mordecai waited a few long moments, but he heard no sound of retreat. If anything, the stranger was even more adamant about standing their ground. Well, that was no problem (for him, anyway). Scraping his spindly claws purposefully against a black stone on the stream bank, he followed it with a noisy splash of stones in the water, making it sound as if he were fording the water to get to his enemy on the other side. Careful not to overly disturb the brush beneath him, he leapt upon the thick of a tall and ancient pine. The bone fiend climbed just high enough to be out of sight and reversed his position so that his head pointed groundward. He waited with bated breath. Just as he intended, a few moments later, the stranger came across the stream to his side…
And he pounced.
Claws extended and fangs exposed, he landed headfirst in a mass of blood-red feathers and petals. It was a dragon body he tore to pieces – or at least tried to tear to pieces. He only managed a raking of sharp claws and a quick bite to a wing joint before he was tossed away bodily. Just barely landing on his paws, he whipped around to hiss like a snake at the Imperial female. Leathery wings rattling and beady scarlet eyes narrowed to lethal slits, he began to circle about the drakka but did not pounce again. He was slightly larger in size than she was, but only just and he would take no chances until he knew just what sort of fighter she was.
”Be gone, female, or I’ll have your shimmering hide as my recompense!”
@Raivoid
Oh, but something in him wanted very much to go head-to-head with the stranger, the part of him that still refused to learn, even after all these years. He unconsciously drew up to his full height in the dark, full of battle-hunger and pride. If they wanted to be bold, what else could he do but answer with the same spirit?
“You have some audacity,” he hissed out once more, ”for an outsider and an intruder. If you knew who it was you were addressing, I wonder if you would be so keen issue such high demands… I give you but one warning. Leave this place the way you came, or I will rip you to shreds.”
Mordecai waited a few long moments, but he heard no sound of retreat. If anything, the stranger was even more adamant about standing their ground. Well, that was no problem (for him, anyway). Scraping his spindly claws purposefully against a black stone on the stream bank, he followed it with a noisy splash of stones in the water, making it sound as if he were fording the water to get to his enemy on the other side. Careful not to overly disturb the brush beneath him, he leapt upon the thick of a tall and ancient pine. The bone fiend climbed just high enough to be out of sight and reversed his position so that his head pointed groundward. He waited with bated breath. Just as he intended, a few moments later, the stranger came across the stream to his side…
And he pounced.
Claws extended and fangs exposed, he landed headfirst in a mass of blood-red feathers and petals. It was a dragon body he tore to pieces – or at least tried to tear to pieces. He only managed a raking of sharp claws and a quick bite to a wing joint before he was tossed away bodily. Just barely landing on his paws, he whipped around to hiss like a snake at the Imperial female. Leathery wings rattling and beady scarlet eyes narrowed to lethal slits, he began to circle about the drakka but did not pounce again. He was slightly larger in size than she was, but only just and he would take no chances until he knew just what sort of fighter she was.
”Be gone, female, or I’ll have your shimmering hide as my recompense!”
@Raivoid
A growl ripped through him instinctively at the challenge, the sound like the rattling of dragon scales against stone. This stranger had some nerve indeed, invading and dishing out threats in Mordecai’s own territory. For a moment the over grown bone fiend considered circling around in the rolling mist and breaking the intruder’s neck with a swift chomp of his jaws. That would be the quickest and best way to end it, to be sure. Safety for himself and his comrades relied on secrecy and rumors that wrapped themselves about the territory as protectively as any magical barrier. The fewer dragons that actually saw the “ghost” and band of demons the better.
Oh, but something in him wanted very much to go head-to-head with the stranger, the part of him that still refused to learn, even after all these years. He unconsciously drew up to his full height in the dark, full of battle-hunger and pride. If they wanted to be bold, what else could he do but answer with the same spirit?
“You have some audacity,” he hissed out once more, ”for an outsider and an intruder. If you knew who it was you were addressing, I wonder if you would be so keen issue such high demands… I give you but one warning. Leave this place the way you came, or I will rip you to shreds.”
Mordecai waited a few long moments, but he heard no sound of retreat. If anything, the stranger was even more adamant about standing their ground. Well, that was no problem (for him, anyway). Scraping his spindly claws purposefully against a black stone on the stream bank, he followed it with a noisy splash of stones in the water, making it sound as if he were fording the water to get to his enemy on the other side. Careful not to overly disturb the brush beneath him, he leapt upon the thick of a tall and ancient pine. The bone fiend climbed just high enough to be out of sight and reversed his position so that his head pointed groundward. He waited with bated breath. Just as he intended, a few moments later, the stranger came across the stream to his side…
And he pounced.
Claws extended and fangs exposed, he landed headfirst in a mass of blood-red feathers and petals. It was a dragon body he tore to pieces – or at least tried to tear to pieces. He only managed a raking of sharp claws and a quick bite to a wing joint before he was tossed away bodily. Just barely landing on his paws, he whipped around to hiss like a snake at the Imperial female. Leathery wings rattling and beady scarlet eyes narrowed to lethal slits, he began to circle about the drakka but did not pounce again. He was slightly larger in size than she was, but only just and he would take no chances until he knew just what sort of fighter she was.
”Be gone, female, or I’ll have your shimmering hide as my recompense!”
@Raivoid
Oh, but something in him wanted very much to go head-to-head with the stranger, the part of him that still refused to learn, even after all these years. He unconsciously drew up to his full height in the dark, full of battle-hunger and pride. If they wanted to be bold, what else could he do but answer with the same spirit?
“You have some audacity,” he hissed out once more, ”for an outsider and an intruder. If you knew who it was you were addressing, I wonder if you would be so keen issue such high demands… I give you but one warning. Leave this place the way you came, or I will rip you to shreds.”
Mordecai waited a few long moments, but he heard no sound of retreat. If anything, the stranger was even more adamant about standing their ground. Well, that was no problem (for him, anyway). Scraping his spindly claws purposefully against a black stone on the stream bank, he followed it with a noisy splash of stones in the water, making it sound as if he were fording the water to get to his enemy on the other side. Careful not to overly disturb the brush beneath him, he leapt upon the thick of a tall and ancient pine. The bone fiend climbed just high enough to be out of sight and reversed his position so that his head pointed groundward. He waited with bated breath. Just as he intended, a few moments later, the stranger came across the stream to his side…
And he pounced.
Claws extended and fangs exposed, he landed headfirst in a mass of blood-red feathers and petals. It was a dragon body he tore to pieces – or at least tried to tear to pieces. He only managed a raking of sharp claws and a quick bite to a wing joint before he was tossed away bodily. Just barely landing on his paws, he whipped around to hiss like a snake at the Imperial female. Leathery wings rattling and beady scarlet eyes narrowed to lethal slits, he began to circle about the drakka but did not pounce again. He was slightly larger in size than she was, but only just and he would take no chances until he knew just what sort of fighter she was.
”Be gone, female, or I’ll have your shimmering hide as my recompense!”
@Raivoid
@XenSilverQuill
Faelara shivered slightly, but from the cold creeping into her body, and the anticipation an impending battle always brought. Yet, something was off about the mysterious creature's voice. The fact that she was met with a challenge herself meant that her opponent was intelligent. Perhaps another dragon? No, something was odd about the tone of its voice. It was little more than a hiss, with a strange, grating undertone. She'd never met a dragon with suck a sound. No, a voice like that belonged to some other breed of monster. But what?
Her eyes narrowed, crouching lower to the ground, her gold-lined belly scales scraping the damp soil. She pulled her petal-marked wings tight against her body, not wishing for them to get in the way for the battle to come. The screeching of claws on stone echoed around her, followed by a large splash. Faelara whipped around towards the creek, her muscles straining with tension. Where is he? This cursed mist!
When nothing stirred, the Imperial crept along the creek's edge, eyes darting around, trying to catch sight of her mysterious opponent. Not a single sound met her ears, and no creatures stirred in the misty woods. It was as if it had disappeared into thin air. Perhaps it had retreated?
Faelara yelped in surprise as a massive shape hurtled out of the mist to her side, landing heavily on top of her. A bony paw slashed at her hind leg, leaving a score of shallow, but painful, gashes. Sharp fangs pierced the joint of her right wing before she could move out of the way. A furious growl escaped her throat as she rolled over beneath the large, pale creature. The Imperial kicked out with her hind legs, tossing her opponent to the side. She quickly flipped back over, not giving it a chance to lash out at her exposed underside.
The creature righted itself and began circling her. Faelara's eyes widened as she finally took in the monster's appearance. A Bone Fiend. She'd never faced one before, but Celesta had given her a scroll containing information about the rare monsters. They were fearsome opponents, larger than many dragons, and just as strong. Yet, it had said they were driven on instinct alone, and rarely initiated fights; preferring to retreat unless cornered.
So how was this one speaking? She'd never heard anything about Bone Fiends even possessing the capabilities to speak, let along the level of intelligence. The crimson dragon turned as he circled her, keeping her front pointed at him at all times.
Her wounds dripped small amounts of blood onto the dark soil, the ground soaking it up like a starved animal. They were merely superficial. What worried her was the fact that she felt no pain from the punctures in her wing. The frost had melted, but they were still numb from cold. If she didn't warm them up soon, it could be bad.
I should have just kept flying!
"What are you? Bone Fiends don't speak! What sort of trickery is this?" She cast her gaze around, as if expecting the true speaker to be hiding away in the mist, using this creature as a living puppet. A tendril of doubt wound its way into her mind, but she quickly squashed it down. She'd been in plenty of battles before. So what if this monster possessed the intelligence of a dragon! She'd bested many larger and faster dragons in past fights. She could do this.
Yet, those times she hadn't been exhausted or slowed by cold, either. It was one thing to have confidence in your abilities, but another to be a fool. Faelara could tell when the odds were not in her favor.
"I was merely getting a drink and resting my frozen wings. I couldn't care less about your Shadowbinder-damned territory." She spat the words out glaring at the calcified Bone Fiend. In an undertone, she muttered darkly, "I had no idea a bloody Bone Fiend would be stalking the Tangled Wood."
Faelara shivered slightly, but from the cold creeping into her body, and the anticipation an impending battle always brought. Yet, something was off about the mysterious creature's voice. The fact that she was met with a challenge herself meant that her opponent was intelligent. Perhaps another dragon? No, something was odd about the tone of its voice. It was little more than a hiss, with a strange, grating undertone. She'd never met a dragon with suck a sound. No, a voice like that belonged to some other breed of monster. But what?
Her eyes narrowed, crouching lower to the ground, her gold-lined belly scales scraping the damp soil. She pulled her petal-marked wings tight against her body, not wishing for them to get in the way for the battle to come. The screeching of claws on stone echoed around her, followed by a large splash. Faelara whipped around towards the creek, her muscles straining with tension. Where is he? This cursed mist!
When nothing stirred, the Imperial crept along the creek's edge, eyes darting around, trying to catch sight of her mysterious opponent. Not a single sound met her ears, and no creatures stirred in the misty woods. It was as if it had disappeared into thin air. Perhaps it had retreated?
Faelara yelped in surprise as a massive shape hurtled out of the mist to her side, landing heavily on top of her. A bony paw slashed at her hind leg, leaving a score of shallow, but painful, gashes. Sharp fangs pierced the joint of her right wing before she could move out of the way. A furious growl escaped her throat as she rolled over beneath the large, pale creature. The Imperial kicked out with her hind legs, tossing her opponent to the side. She quickly flipped back over, not giving it a chance to lash out at her exposed underside.
The creature righted itself and began circling her. Faelara's eyes widened as she finally took in the monster's appearance. A Bone Fiend. She'd never faced one before, but Celesta had given her a scroll containing information about the rare monsters. They were fearsome opponents, larger than many dragons, and just as strong. Yet, it had said they were driven on instinct alone, and rarely initiated fights; preferring to retreat unless cornered.
So how was this one speaking? She'd never heard anything about Bone Fiends even possessing the capabilities to speak, let along the level of intelligence. The crimson dragon turned as he circled her, keeping her front pointed at him at all times.
Her wounds dripped small amounts of blood onto the dark soil, the ground soaking it up like a starved animal. They were merely superficial. What worried her was the fact that she felt no pain from the punctures in her wing. The frost had melted, but they were still numb from cold. If she didn't warm them up soon, it could be bad.
I should have just kept flying!
"What are you? Bone Fiends don't speak! What sort of trickery is this?" She cast her gaze around, as if expecting the true speaker to be hiding away in the mist, using this creature as a living puppet. A tendril of doubt wound its way into her mind, but she quickly squashed it down. She'd been in plenty of battles before. So what if this monster possessed the intelligence of a dragon! She'd bested many larger and faster dragons in past fights. She could do this.
Yet, those times she hadn't been exhausted or slowed by cold, either. It was one thing to have confidence in your abilities, but another to be a fool. Faelara could tell when the odds were not in her favor.
"I was merely getting a drink and resting my frozen wings. I couldn't care less about your Shadowbinder-damned territory." She spat the words out glaring at the calcified Bone Fiend. In an undertone, she muttered darkly, "I had no idea a bloody Bone Fiend would be stalking the Tangled Wood."
@XenSilverQuill
Faelara shivered slightly, but from the cold creeping into her body, and the anticipation an impending battle always brought. Yet, something was off about the mysterious creature's voice. The fact that she was met with a challenge herself meant that her opponent was intelligent. Perhaps another dragon? No, something was odd about the tone of its voice. It was little more than a hiss, with a strange, grating undertone. She'd never met a dragon with suck a sound. No, a voice like that belonged to some other breed of monster. But what?
Her eyes narrowed, crouching lower to the ground, her gold-lined belly scales scraping the damp soil. She pulled her petal-marked wings tight against her body, not wishing for them to get in the way for the battle to come. The screeching of claws on stone echoed around her, followed by a large splash. Faelara whipped around towards the creek, her muscles straining with tension. Where is he? This cursed mist!
When nothing stirred, the Imperial crept along the creek's edge, eyes darting around, trying to catch sight of her mysterious opponent. Not a single sound met her ears, and no creatures stirred in the misty woods. It was as if it had disappeared into thin air. Perhaps it had retreated?
Faelara yelped in surprise as a massive shape hurtled out of the mist to her side, landing heavily on top of her. A bony paw slashed at her hind leg, leaving a score of shallow, but painful, gashes. Sharp fangs pierced the joint of her right wing before she could move out of the way. A furious growl escaped her throat as she rolled over beneath the large, pale creature. The Imperial kicked out with her hind legs, tossing her opponent to the side. She quickly flipped back over, not giving it a chance to lash out at her exposed underside.
The creature righted itself and began circling her. Faelara's eyes widened as she finally took in the monster's appearance. A Bone Fiend. She'd never faced one before, but Celesta had given her a scroll containing information about the rare monsters. They were fearsome opponents, larger than many dragons, and just as strong. Yet, it had said they were driven on instinct alone, and rarely initiated fights; preferring to retreat unless cornered.
So how was this one speaking? She'd never heard anything about Bone Fiends even possessing the capabilities to speak, let along the level of intelligence. The crimson dragon turned as he circled her, keeping her front pointed at him at all times.
Her wounds dripped small amounts of blood onto the dark soil, the ground soaking it up like a starved animal. They were merely superficial. What worried her was the fact that she felt no pain from the punctures in her wing. The frost had melted, but they were still numb from cold. If she didn't warm them up soon, it could be bad.
I should have just kept flying!
"What are you? Bone Fiends don't speak! What sort of trickery is this?" She cast her gaze around, as if expecting the true speaker to be hiding away in the mist, using this creature as a living puppet. A tendril of doubt wound its way into her mind, but she quickly squashed it down. She'd been in plenty of battles before. So what if this monster possessed the intelligence of a dragon! She'd bested many larger and faster dragons in past fights. She could do this.
Yet, those times she hadn't been exhausted or slowed by cold, either. It was one thing to have confidence in your abilities, but another to be a fool. Faelara could tell when the odds were not in her favor.
"I was merely getting a drink and resting my frozen wings. I couldn't care less about your Shadowbinder-damned territory." She spat the words out glaring at the calcified Bone Fiend. In an undertone, she muttered darkly, "I had no idea a bloody Bone Fiend would be stalking the Tangled Wood."
Faelara shivered slightly, but from the cold creeping into her body, and the anticipation an impending battle always brought. Yet, something was off about the mysterious creature's voice. The fact that she was met with a challenge herself meant that her opponent was intelligent. Perhaps another dragon? No, something was odd about the tone of its voice. It was little more than a hiss, with a strange, grating undertone. She'd never met a dragon with suck a sound. No, a voice like that belonged to some other breed of monster. But what?
Her eyes narrowed, crouching lower to the ground, her gold-lined belly scales scraping the damp soil. She pulled her petal-marked wings tight against her body, not wishing for them to get in the way for the battle to come. The screeching of claws on stone echoed around her, followed by a large splash. Faelara whipped around towards the creek, her muscles straining with tension. Where is he? This cursed mist!
When nothing stirred, the Imperial crept along the creek's edge, eyes darting around, trying to catch sight of her mysterious opponent. Not a single sound met her ears, and no creatures stirred in the misty woods. It was as if it had disappeared into thin air. Perhaps it had retreated?
Faelara yelped in surprise as a massive shape hurtled out of the mist to her side, landing heavily on top of her. A bony paw slashed at her hind leg, leaving a score of shallow, but painful, gashes. Sharp fangs pierced the joint of her right wing before she could move out of the way. A furious growl escaped her throat as she rolled over beneath the large, pale creature. The Imperial kicked out with her hind legs, tossing her opponent to the side. She quickly flipped back over, not giving it a chance to lash out at her exposed underside.
The creature righted itself and began circling her. Faelara's eyes widened as she finally took in the monster's appearance. A Bone Fiend. She'd never faced one before, but Celesta had given her a scroll containing information about the rare monsters. They were fearsome opponents, larger than many dragons, and just as strong. Yet, it had said they were driven on instinct alone, and rarely initiated fights; preferring to retreat unless cornered.
So how was this one speaking? She'd never heard anything about Bone Fiends even possessing the capabilities to speak, let along the level of intelligence. The crimson dragon turned as he circled her, keeping her front pointed at him at all times.
Her wounds dripped small amounts of blood onto the dark soil, the ground soaking it up like a starved animal. They were merely superficial. What worried her was the fact that she felt no pain from the punctures in her wing. The frost had melted, but they were still numb from cold. If she didn't warm them up soon, it could be bad.
I should have just kept flying!
"What are you? Bone Fiends don't speak! What sort of trickery is this?" She cast her gaze around, as if expecting the true speaker to be hiding away in the mist, using this creature as a living puppet. A tendril of doubt wound its way into her mind, but she quickly squashed it down. She'd been in plenty of battles before. So what if this monster possessed the intelligence of a dragon! She'd bested many larger and faster dragons in past fights. She could do this.
Yet, those times she hadn't been exhausted or slowed by cold, either. It was one thing to have confidence in your abilities, but another to be a fool. Faelara could tell when the odds were not in her favor.
"I was merely getting a drink and resting my frozen wings. I couldn't care less about your Shadowbinder-damned territory." She spat the words out glaring at the calcified Bone Fiend. In an undertone, she muttered darkly, "I had no idea a bloody Bone Fiend would be stalking the Tangled Wood."
Aniu, one of his be-cursed clanmates, was always fond of quoting lines from the ancient tomes he collected. (Whether or not anyone actual wanted to hear him rattle off said lines was another story altogether.) Still, one oft quoted saying found itself rolling off his tongue in a very weary and unimpressed tone.
”There are more things in heaven and earth, female, than in all your philosophies. Surely I cannot be the strangest thing you have ever seen.” His tense posture did not relax an inch, but Mordecai had stopped circling her – for the moment. Digging his claws into the moist earth, he looked her directly into the eye with sharply arched horns aimed pointedly at the Imperial. ”And I am only ‘bloody’ because you cut me with those Light-forsaken harpy claws,” he growled. Four long parallel claw tracks were cut neat, shallow into his ribs. Yet another hiss escaped him, and not entirely from aggression towards the Imperial.
His gaze roamed over her serpentine form. Well, he supposed she had not been lying about her wings. Remnants of frost still clung to the fine feathers of her wings, and his rather gory bite to her wing joint probably did not help matters. Ah, Gaia was going to have his bones for a mortar and pestle when she found out he had jumped and wounded a weary traveler, a “lady” traveler no less.
If Gaia found out. Because he absolutely no intention of letting the Imperial get anywhere near his clan. She needed to leave. Now. Mordecai was about to tell the drakka as much when he first heard the growling.
”Be silent,” he hissed suddenly, a cautious undertone in his voice. ”We are being watched.”
For a few moments he thought that the female was growling at him again. He had turned to bare his teeth at her in kind when he felt a pair of eyes burn dangerous paths across his hide. Actually, several pairs of eyes. A chill breeze sent goosebumps racing along his skin, and his red eyes shifted from side to side. Wet pine needles and Shadow magic pierced his nostrils – the distinct and dreaded scent of an umbra wolf. Sometimes called the “Hounds of the Shadowbinder” in the Lore, they were a force to be reckoned with one on one. A weight sank in his stomach just to think about facing a pack of the monsters.
”If you value your life, you will flee from this place. Now!”
@Raivoid
”There are more things in heaven and earth, female, than in all your philosophies. Surely I cannot be the strangest thing you have ever seen.” His tense posture did not relax an inch, but Mordecai had stopped circling her – for the moment. Digging his claws into the moist earth, he looked her directly into the eye with sharply arched horns aimed pointedly at the Imperial. ”And I am only ‘bloody’ because you cut me with those Light-forsaken harpy claws,” he growled. Four long parallel claw tracks were cut neat, shallow into his ribs. Yet another hiss escaped him, and not entirely from aggression towards the Imperial.
His gaze roamed over her serpentine form. Well, he supposed she had not been lying about her wings. Remnants of frost still clung to the fine feathers of her wings, and his rather gory bite to her wing joint probably did not help matters. Ah, Gaia was going to have his bones for a mortar and pestle when she found out he had jumped and wounded a weary traveler, a “lady” traveler no less.
If Gaia found out. Because he absolutely no intention of letting the Imperial get anywhere near his clan. She needed to leave. Now. Mordecai was about to tell the drakka as much when he first heard the growling.
”Be silent,” he hissed suddenly, a cautious undertone in his voice. ”We are being watched.”
For a few moments he thought that the female was growling at him again. He had turned to bare his teeth at her in kind when he felt a pair of eyes burn dangerous paths across his hide. Actually, several pairs of eyes. A chill breeze sent goosebumps racing along his skin, and his red eyes shifted from side to side. Wet pine needles and Shadow magic pierced his nostrils – the distinct and dreaded scent of an umbra wolf. Sometimes called the “Hounds of the Shadowbinder” in the Lore, they were a force to be reckoned with one on one. A weight sank in his stomach just to think about facing a pack of the monsters.
”If you value your life, you will flee from this place. Now!”
@Raivoid
Aniu, one of his be-cursed clanmates, was always fond of quoting lines from the ancient tomes he collected. (Whether or not anyone actual wanted to hear him rattle off said lines was another story altogether.) Still, one oft quoted saying found itself rolling off his tongue in a very weary and unimpressed tone.
”There are more things in heaven and earth, female, than in all your philosophies. Surely I cannot be the strangest thing you have ever seen.” His tense posture did not relax an inch, but Mordecai had stopped circling her – for the moment. Digging his claws into the moist earth, he looked her directly into the eye with sharply arched horns aimed pointedly at the Imperial. ”And I am only ‘bloody’ because you cut me with those Light-forsaken harpy claws,” he growled. Four long parallel claw tracks were cut neat, shallow into his ribs. Yet another hiss escaped him, and not entirely from aggression towards the Imperial.
His gaze roamed over her serpentine form. Well, he supposed she had not been lying about her wings. Remnants of frost still clung to the fine feathers of her wings, and his rather gory bite to her wing joint probably did not help matters. Ah, Gaia was going to have his bones for a mortar and pestle when she found out he had jumped and wounded a weary traveler, a “lady” traveler no less.
If Gaia found out. Because he absolutely no intention of letting the Imperial get anywhere near his clan. She needed to leave. Now. Mordecai was about to tell the drakka as much when he first heard the growling.
”Be silent,” he hissed suddenly, a cautious undertone in his voice. ”We are being watched.”
For a few moments he thought that the female was growling at him again. He had turned to bare his teeth at her in kind when he felt a pair of eyes burn dangerous paths across his hide. Actually, several pairs of eyes. A chill breeze sent goosebumps racing along his skin, and his red eyes shifted from side to side. Wet pine needles and Shadow magic pierced his nostrils – the distinct and dreaded scent of an umbra wolf. Sometimes called the “Hounds of the Shadowbinder” in the Lore, they were a force to be reckoned with one on one. A weight sank in his stomach just to think about facing a pack of the monsters.
”If you value your life, you will flee from this place. Now!”
@Raivoid
”There are more things in heaven and earth, female, than in all your philosophies. Surely I cannot be the strangest thing you have ever seen.” His tense posture did not relax an inch, but Mordecai had stopped circling her – for the moment. Digging his claws into the moist earth, he looked her directly into the eye with sharply arched horns aimed pointedly at the Imperial. ”And I am only ‘bloody’ because you cut me with those Light-forsaken harpy claws,” he growled. Four long parallel claw tracks were cut neat, shallow into his ribs. Yet another hiss escaped him, and not entirely from aggression towards the Imperial.
His gaze roamed over her serpentine form. Well, he supposed she had not been lying about her wings. Remnants of frost still clung to the fine feathers of her wings, and his rather gory bite to her wing joint probably did not help matters. Ah, Gaia was going to have his bones for a mortar and pestle when she found out he had jumped and wounded a weary traveler, a “lady” traveler no less.
If Gaia found out. Because he absolutely no intention of letting the Imperial get anywhere near his clan. She needed to leave. Now. Mordecai was about to tell the drakka as much when he first heard the growling.
”Be silent,” he hissed suddenly, a cautious undertone in his voice. ”We are being watched.”
For a few moments he thought that the female was growling at him again. He had turned to bare his teeth at her in kind when he felt a pair of eyes burn dangerous paths across his hide. Actually, several pairs of eyes. A chill breeze sent goosebumps racing along his skin, and his red eyes shifted from side to side. Wet pine needles and Shadow magic pierced his nostrils – the distinct and dreaded scent of an umbra wolf. Sometimes called the “Hounds of the Shadowbinder” in the Lore, they were a force to be reckoned with one on one. A weight sank in his stomach just to think about facing a pack of the monsters.
”If you value your life, you will flee from this place. Now!”
@Raivoid
@XenSilverQuill
The fury she felt towards the Bone Fiend before her faded to a dull burn as he spoke, replaced by confusion. Light-Forsaken? Why, he speaks like a dragon! How odd. She shrugged it off. Perhaps he was once a familiar. Some did tend to pick up dragon sayings and tendencies over time.
"And your blasted talons were the first to do the cutting, remember? I wan't the one who leaped out of Light knows where like a coward." She growled, more indignant than angry. She took care of her talons, as they were her main weapon while hunting. To compare them to the uneven, filthy nails Harpies bore...
A familiar growling reverberated in the mist around them. Faelara was immediately back in her defensive crouch, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the Bone Fiend to search the mist. That growl sounded much like a Gale Wolf. She'd often had to aid her clan in fighting off the pests before they laid waste to their dens. Yet here, in the Tangled Wood, it was unlikely that it was a pack of Gale Wolves. No, their cousins, Umbra Wolves, were far more likely.
Great, any other monsters want to join the party? She thought dryly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Umbra Wolves were nothing to sneeze at, and a pack of them could probably give a whole band of dragons a run for their money. And here she was, cold, tired, and injured, with only a Bone Fiend for help. Not that she trusted him to fight with her in the least.
Annoyance bubbled up inside her at the bony creature's order. Run? Flee? No, her pride wouldn't allow it.
"Flee? A great hunter never flees from a fight with only their own life on the line. No, if this is where my story ends, then so be it." She huffed, turning slow circles as she searched for the shadowy forms she knew hid somewhere in the dark mist. "I don't have a chance of out speeding them on land, anyway. I won't be killed while running like a coward by a pack of shadow wolves."
She looked the Bone Fiend up and down, trying to gauge how proficient his skills in battle would be. It was crazy to think of fighting alongside a monster that had just attacked her, but if he had any intelligence, which she was sure he did, he'd understand the need.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. How about we put our differences aside long enough to take care of these wolves? We can settle this later." A small, tired smile pulled at her muzzle for a split second, before falling away. That is, if either of them made it through the onslaught of Light-Knows how many wolves.
"Oh, Terilynn." She whispered under her breath, shaking her head slightly. To think this trip had descended into madness so quickly. Her small daughter would never forgive her if she died right now. Faelara could feel adrenaline coursing through her, replenishing some of her strength. She'd regret pushing herself later, but if she was alive enough to regret, then it would be worth it.
The fury she felt towards the Bone Fiend before her faded to a dull burn as he spoke, replaced by confusion. Light-Forsaken? Why, he speaks like a dragon! How odd. She shrugged it off. Perhaps he was once a familiar. Some did tend to pick up dragon sayings and tendencies over time.
"And your blasted talons were the first to do the cutting, remember? I wan't the one who leaped out of Light knows where like a coward." She growled, more indignant than angry. She took care of her talons, as they were her main weapon while hunting. To compare them to the uneven, filthy nails Harpies bore...
A familiar growling reverberated in the mist around them. Faelara was immediately back in her defensive crouch, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the Bone Fiend to search the mist. That growl sounded much like a Gale Wolf. She'd often had to aid her clan in fighting off the pests before they laid waste to their dens. Yet here, in the Tangled Wood, it was unlikely that it was a pack of Gale Wolves. No, their cousins, Umbra Wolves, were far more likely.
Great, any other monsters want to join the party? She thought dryly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Umbra Wolves were nothing to sneeze at, and a pack of them could probably give a whole band of dragons a run for their money. And here she was, cold, tired, and injured, with only a Bone Fiend for help. Not that she trusted him to fight with her in the least.
Annoyance bubbled up inside her at the bony creature's order. Run? Flee? No, her pride wouldn't allow it.
"Flee? A great hunter never flees from a fight with only their own life on the line. No, if this is where my story ends, then so be it." She huffed, turning slow circles as she searched for the shadowy forms she knew hid somewhere in the dark mist. "I don't have a chance of out speeding them on land, anyway. I won't be killed while running like a coward by a pack of shadow wolves."
She looked the Bone Fiend up and down, trying to gauge how proficient his skills in battle would be. It was crazy to think of fighting alongside a monster that had just attacked her, but if he had any intelligence, which she was sure he did, he'd understand the need.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. How about we put our differences aside long enough to take care of these wolves? We can settle this later." A small, tired smile pulled at her muzzle for a split second, before falling away. That is, if either of them made it through the onslaught of Light-Knows how many wolves.
"Oh, Terilynn." She whispered under her breath, shaking her head slightly. To think this trip had descended into madness so quickly. Her small daughter would never forgive her if she died right now. Faelara could feel adrenaline coursing through her, replenishing some of her strength. She'd regret pushing herself later, but if she was alive enough to regret, then it would be worth it.
@XenSilverQuill
The fury she felt towards the Bone Fiend before her faded to a dull burn as he spoke, replaced by confusion. Light-Forsaken? Why, he speaks like a dragon! How odd. She shrugged it off. Perhaps he was once a familiar. Some did tend to pick up dragon sayings and tendencies over time.
"And your blasted talons were the first to do the cutting, remember? I wan't the one who leaped out of Light knows where like a coward." She growled, more indignant than angry. She took care of her talons, as they were her main weapon while hunting. To compare them to the uneven, filthy nails Harpies bore...
A familiar growling reverberated in the mist around them. Faelara was immediately back in her defensive crouch, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the Bone Fiend to search the mist. That growl sounded much like a Gale Wolf. She'd often had to aid her clan in fighting off the pests before they laid waste to their dens. Yet here, in the Tangled Wood, it was unlikely that it was a pack of Gale Wolves. No, their cousins, Umbra Wolves, were far more likely.
Great, any other monsters want to join the party? She thought dryly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Umbra Wolves were nothing to sneeze at, and a pack of them could probably give a whole band of dragons a run for their money. And here she was, cold, tired, and injured, with only a Bone Fiend for help. Not that she trusted him to fight with her in the least.
Annoyance bubbled up inside her at the bony creature's order. Run? Flee? No, her pride wouldn't allow it.
"Flee? A great hunter never flees from a fight with only their own life on the line. No, if this is where my story ends, then so be it." She huffed, turning slow circles as she searched for the shadowy forms she knew hid somewhere in the dark mist. "I don't have a chance of out speeding them on land, anyway. I won't be killed while running like a coward by a pack of shadow wolves."
She looked the Bone Fiend up and down, trying to gauge how proficient his skills in battle would be. It was crazy to think of fighting alongside a monster that had just attacked her, but if he had any intelligence, which she was sure he did, he'd understand the need.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. How about we put our differences aside long enough to take care of these wolves? We can settle this later." A small, tired smile pulled at her muzzle for a split second, before falling away. That is, if either of them made it through the onslaught of Light-Knows how many wolves.
"Oh, Terilynn." She whispered under her breath, shaking her head slightly. To think this trip had descended into madness so quickly. Her small daughter would never forgive her if she died right now. Faelara could feel adrenaline coursing through her, replenishing some of her strength. She'd regret pushing herself later, but if she was alive enough to regret, then it would be worth it.
The fury she felt towards the Bone Fiend before her faded to a dull burn as he spoke, replaced by confusion. Light-Forsaken? Why, he speaks like a dragon! How odd. She shrugged it off. Perhaps he was once a familiar. Some did tend to pick up dragon sayings and tendencies over time.
"And your blasted talons were the first to do the cutting, remember? I wan't the one who leaped out of Light knows where like a coward." She growled, more indignant than angry. She took care of her talons, as they were her main weapon while hunting. To compare them to the uneven, filthy nails Harpies bore...
A familiar growling reverberated in the mist around them. Faelara was immediately back in her defensive crouch, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the Bone Fiend to search the mist. That growl sounded much like a Gale Wolf. She'd often had to aid her clan in fighting off the pests before they laid waste to their dens. Yet here, in the Tangled Wood, it was unlikely that it was a pack of Gale Wolves. No, their cousins, Umbra Wolves, were far more likely.
Great, any other monsters want to join the party? She thought dryly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Umbra Wolves were nothing to sneeze at, and a pack of them could probably give a whole band of dragons a run for their money. And here she was, cold, tired, and injured, with only a Bone Fiend for help. Not that she trusted him to fight with her in the least.
Annoyance bubbled up inside her at the bony creature's order. Run? Flee? No, her pride wouldn't allow it.
"Flee? A great hunter never flees from a fight with only their own life on the line. No, if this is where my story ends, then so be it." She huffed, turning slow circles as she searched for the shadowy forms she knew hid somewhere in the dark mist. "I don't have a chance of out speeding them on land, anyway. I won't be killed while running like a coward by a pack of shadow wolves."
She looked the Bone Fiend up and down, trying to gauge how proficient his skills in battle would be. It was crazy to think of fighting alongside a monster that had just attacked her, but if he had any intelligence, which she was sure he did, he'd understand the need.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. How about we put our differences aside long enough to take care of these wolves? We can settle this later." A small, tired smile pulled at her muzzle for a split second, before falling away. That is, if either of them made it through the onslaught of Light-Knows how many wolves.
"Oh, Terilynn." She whispered under her breath, shaking her head slightly. To think this trip had descended into madness so quickly. Her small daughter would never forgive her if she died right now. Faelara could feel adrenaline coursing through her, replenishing some of her strength. She'd regret pushing herself later, but if she was alive enough to regret, then it would be worth it.
Rumbling low in chest but not disagreeing with her, he stalked about her until the two were back-to-back. Deep-sunken eyes searching to and fro he still could not make out the wolf pack. Their bitter scent hung in the air like a potent miasma, though, and he knew that the beasts must be practically under his nose.
‘If this is where my story ends, then so be it?’ Ah, Stormcatcher save him from the foolish bravery of females! She was worse than Raksha and Morro, and at least they had the sense to run from a fight they could not win. Mordecai, wisely, did not say as much out loud. The Imperial was right about one thing, at least: the two of them together had a better chance of getting out this situation if they worked together, however briefly. Still, a not-quite-bone-fiend and a feisty Imperial an army did not make. He knew that he would feel better personally with reinforcements.
So, seemingly without thought, he threw back his head and roared for all he was worth. The call rang out like a harpy’s cry thought the night, less of a bellow than a banshee shriek. Bone fiend’s cries were known for their ability to deafen dragon and beast alike at close range. The noise was only intensified as the fog bounced it back and forth in the air. A cruel rictus of a smirk split his pale face when he heard a cacophony of pained canine whines immediately in front of him. (Part of Mordecai hoped the Imperial lady’s ears were not bleeding too much.) Assuming his companions heard his call, the two of them would get out of this alive. Probably.
A smoky violet body leapt at him from the corner of his eye, and that was when the fight really began. Hissing, he met the would-be pouncer flat side of one horn, knocking the umbra wolf off its path. In ones and twos the monsters began to harry them in quick succession. Some made to directly attack his throat and back, but many more made quick and sneaking nips at his legs and sides. It was a tactic he knew this species loved: weakening their prey by opening a multitude of bleeding wounds in its hide, and finally moving in for the kill. Mordecai snarled at them, keeping his belly low to the ground as he backed closer to the Imperial. Hitting and clawing wolves left and right, he was only glad that the female did not seem to need his help in fending off the blighter.
Matters were beginning to look bleak indeed – his thin ribs and long neck sported a rambra pattern of cuts and slashes – when his clanmates finally arrived.
Raksha was the first to come racing in, the qiriq roaring out a challenge like a stallion. She made no bones about jumping into the fray, running one ill-concealed wolf through with her curved horn. Kicking with her unforgiving cloven hooves she made relatively quick work of half a dozen wolves.
His old runic bat of a matriarch, Morro, was the next to wing her way into the clearing with Tesla the fuiran practically on her tail. Morro was twice as large as a typical Fae dragon and bore the scar of many a battle, and tough-hided Tesla was far bigger than even she was. The two were a force to be reckoned with together as they divebombed the pack, trying to distract the wolves away from the bone fiend and Imperial.
“You took your time, didn’t you?” Mordecai grunted as he tossed another assailant away from Raksha’s flank. “Another few minutes and we would have been dog food!”
Tesla had the gaul to snicker, flinging an umbra wolf into the trees. He cackled like a stormseeker at he glided this way and that. “Aw, you’re just upset that you didn’t get to spend more alone with time with your new pretty girly.” Tossing a roguish grin in the Imperial’s direction, he threw away another wolf with the carelessness of one who tussled with an umbra pack every day. “Forget about the old bonebag, sweetheart. Unlike some of us, he doesn’t know how to treat a la- OW!”
“Tesla, you have a mate,” chided the runic bat as she slapped him across the face with a leathery wing, “and stop mooning over that Imperial and watch my back for Arcanist’s sake!”
@Raivoid
‘If this is where my story ends, then so be it?’ Ah, Stormcatcher save him from the foolish bravery of females! She was worse than Raksha and Morro, and at least they had the sense to run from a fight they could not win. Mordecai, wisely, did not say as much out loud. The Imperial was right about one thing, at least: the two of them together had a better chance of getting out this situation if they worked together, however briefly. Still, a not-quite-bone-fiend and a feisty Imperial an army did not make. He knew that he would feel better personally with reinforcements.
So, seemingly without thought, he threw back his head and roared for all he was worth. The call rang out like a harpy’s cry thought the night, less of a bellow than a banshee shriek. Bone fiend’s cries were known for their ability to deafen dragon and beast alike at close range. The noise was only intensified as the fog bounced it back and forth in the air. A cruel rictus of a smirk split his pale face when he heard a cacophony of pained canine whines immediately in front of him. (Part of Mordecai hoped the Imperial lady’s ears were not bleeding too much.) Assuming his companions heard his call, the two of them would get out of this alive. Probably.
A smoky violet body leapt at him from the corner of his eye, and that was when the fight really began. Hissing, he met the would-be pouncer flat side of one horn, knocking the umbra wolf off its path. In ones and twos the monsters began to harry them in quick succession. Some made to directly attack his throat and back, but many more made quick and sneaking nips at his legs and sides. It was a tactic he knew this species loved: weakening their prey by opening a multitude of bleeding wounds in its hide, and finally moving in for the kill. Mordecai snarled at them, keeping his belly low to the ground as he backed closer to the Imperial. Hitting and clawing wolves left and right, he was only glad that the female did not seem to need his help in fending off the blighter.
Matters were beginning to look bleak indeed – his thin ribs and long neck sported a rambra pattern of cuts and slashes – when his clanmates finally arrived.
Raksha was the first to come racing in, the qiriq roaring out a challenge like a stallion. She made no bones about jumping into the fray, running one ill-concealed wolf through with her curved horn. Kicking with her unforgiving cloven hooves she made relatively quick work of half a dozen wolves.
His old runic bat of a matriarch, Morro, was the next to wing her way into the clearing with Tesla the fuiran practically on her tail. Morro was twice as large as a typical Fae dragon and bore the scar of many a battle, and tough-hided Tesla was far bigger than even she was. The two were a force to be reckoned with together as they divebombed the pack, trying to distract the wolves away from the bone fiend and Imperial.
“You took your time, didn’t you?” Mordecai grunted as he tossed another assailant away from Raksha’s flank. “Another few minutes and we would have been dog food!”
Tesla had the gaul to snicker, flinging an umbra wolf into the trees. He cackled like a stormseeker at he glided this way and that. “Aw, you’re just upset that you didn’t get to spend more alone with time with your new pretty girly.” Tossing a roguish grin in the Imperial’s direction, he threw away another wolf with the carelessness of one who tussled with an umbra pack every day. “Forget about the old bonebag, sweetheart. Unlike some of us, he doesn’t know how to treat a la- OW!”
“Tesla, you have a mate,” chided the runic bat as she slapped him across the face with a leathery wing, “and stop mooning over that Imperial and watch my back for Arcanist’s sake!”
@Raivoid
Rumbling low in chest but not disagreeing with her, he stalked about her until the two were back-to-back. Deep-sunken eyes searching to and fro he still could not make out the wolf pack. Their bitter scent hung in the air like a potent miasma, though, and he knew that the beasts must be practically under his nose.
‘If this is where my story ends, then so be it?’ Ah, Stormcatcher save him from the foolish bravery of females! She was worse than Raksha and Morro, and at least they had the sense to run from a fight they could not win. Mordecai, wisely, did not say as much out loud. The Imperial was right about one thing, at least: the two of them together had a better chance of getting out this situation if they worked together, however briefly. Still, a not-quite-bone-fiend and a feisty Imperial an army did not make. He knew that he would feel better personally with reinforcements.
So, seemingly without thought, he threw back his head and roared for all he was worth. The call rang out like a harpy’s cry thought the night, less of a bellow than a banshee shriek. Bone fiend’s cries were known for their ability to deafen dragon and beast alike at close range. The noise was only intensified as the fog bounced it back and forth in the air. A cruel rictus of a smirk split his pale face when he heard a cacophony of pained canine whines immediately in front of him. (Part of Mordecai hoped the Imperial lady’s ears were not bleeding too much.) Assuming his companions heard his call, the two of them would get out of this alive. Probably.
A smoky violet body leapt at him from the corner of his eye, and that was when the fight really began. Hissing, he met the would-be pouncer flat side of one horn, knocking the umbra wolf off its path. In ones and twos the monsters began to harry them in quick succession. Some made to directly attack his throat and back, but many more made quick and sneaking nips at his legs and sides. It was a tactic he knew this species loved: weakening their prey by opening a multitude of bleeding wounds in its hide, and finally moving in for the kill. Mordecai snarled at them, keeping his belly low to the ground as he backed closer to the Imperial. Hitting and clawing wolves left and right, he was only glad that the female did not seem to need his help in fending off the blighter.
Matters were beginning to look bleak indeed – his thin ribs and long neck sported a rambra pattern of cuts and slashes – when his clanmates finally arrived.
Raksha was the first to come racing in, the qiriq roaring out a challenge like a stallion. She made no bones about jumping into the fray, running one ill-concealed wolf through with her curved horn. Kicking with her unforgiving cloven hooves she made relatively quick work of half a dozen wolves.
His old runic bat of a matriarch, Morro, was the next to wing her way into the clearing with Tesla the fuiran practically on her tail. Morro was twice as large as a typical Fae dragon and bore the scar of many a battle, and tough-hided Tesla was far bigger than even she was. The two were a force to be reckoned with together as they divebombed the pack, trying to distract the wolves away from the bone fiend and Imperial.
“You took your time, didn’t you?” Mordecai grunted as he tossed another assailant away from Raksha’s flank. “Another few minutes and we would have been dog food!”
Tesla had the gaul to snicker, flinging an umbra wolf into the trees. He cackled like a stormseeker at he glided this way and that. “Aw, you’re just upset that you didn’t get to spend more alone with time with your new pretty girly.” Tossing a roguish grin in the Imperial’s direction, he threw away another wolf with the carelessness of one who tussled with an umbra pack every day. “Forget about the old bonebag, sweetheart. Unlike some of us, he doesn’t know how to treat a la- OW!”
“Tesla, you have a mate,” chided the runic bat as she slapped him across the face with a leathery wing, “and stop mooning over that Imperial and watch my back for Arcanist’s sake!”
@Raivoid
‘If this is where my story ends, then so be it?’ Ah, Stormcatcher save him from the foolish bravery of females! She was worse than Raksha and Morro, and at least they had the sense to run from a fight they could not win. Mordecai, wisely, did not say as much out loud. The Imperial was right about one thing, at least: the two of them together had a better chance of getting out this situation if they worked together, however briefly. Still, a not-quite-bone-fiend and a feisty Imperial an army did not make. He knew that he would feel better personally with reinforcements.
So, seemingly without thought, he threw back his head and roared for all he was worth. The call rang out like a harpy’s cry thought the night, less of a bellow than a banshee shriek. Bone fiend’s cries were known for their ability to deafen dragon and beast alike at close range. The noise was only intensified as the fog bounced it back and forth in the air. A cruel rictus of a smirk split his pale face when he heard a cacophony of pained canine whines immediately in front of him. (Part of Mordecai hoped the Imperial lady’s ears were not bleeding too much.) Assuming his companions heard his call, the two of them would get out of this alive. Probably.
A smoky violet body leapt at him from the corner of his eye, and that was when the fight really began. Hissing, he met the would-be pouncer flat side of one horn, knocking the umbra wolf off its path. In ones and twos the monsters began to harry them in quick succession. Some made to directly attack his throat and back, but many more made quick and sneaking nips at his legs and sides. It was a tactic he knew this species loved: weakening their prey by opening a multitude of bleeding wounds in its hide, and finally moving in for the kill. Mordecai snarled at them, keeping his belly low to the ground as he backed closer to the Imperial. Hitting and clawing wolves left and right, he was only glad that the female did not seem to need his help in fending off the blighter.
Matters were beginning to look bleak indeed – his thin ribs and long neck sported a rambra pattern of cuts and slashes – when his clanmates finally arrived.
Raksha was the first to come racing in, the qiriq roaring out a challenge like a stallion. She made no bones about jumping into the fray, running one ill-concealed wolf through with her curved horn. Kicking with her unforgiving cloven hooves she made relatively quick work of half a dozen wolves.
His old runic bat of a matriarch, Morro, was the next to wing her way into the clearing with Tesla the fuiran practically on her tail. Morro was twice as large as a typical Fae dragon and bore the scar of many a battle, and tough-hided Tesla was far bigger than even she was. The two were a force to be reckoned with together as they divebombed the pack, trying to distract the wolves away from the bone fiend and Imperial.
“You took your time, didn’t you?” Mordecai grunted as he tossed another assailant away from Raksha’s flank. “Another few minutes and we would have been dog food!”
Tesla had the gaul to snicker, flinging an umbra wolf into the trees. He cackled like a stormseeker at he glided this way and that. “Aw, you’re just upset that you didn’t get to spend more alone with time with your new pretty girly.” Tossing a roguish grin in the Imperial’s direction, he threw away another wolf with the carelessness of one who tussled with an umbra pack every day. “Forget about the old bonebag, sweetheart. Unlike some of us, he doesn’t know how to treat a la- OW!”
“Tesla, you have a mate,” chided the runic bat as she slapped him across the face with a leathery wing, “and stop mooning over that Imperial and watch my back for Arcanist’s sake!”
@Raivoid
@XenSilverQuill
Faelara had to squash down her unease as the Bone Fiend circled around to stand at her back. She was rather impressed that he knew so much about group combat. Rule one, never present your back to the enemy. She recited in her mind. Rule two, always keep the enemy in sight. Rule three-
Her train of thought was harshly interrupted when a painfully loud shriek rent the dank air. It seemed to bounce around in the mist, intensifying to a nearly unbearable level. Her ears rang, and spots of color danced in her vision. It took all her restraint to keep from crying out.
"You Plague-ridden, Shadow-hearted, Banshee-blooded idiot!" She yelled once his screeching stopped, shaking her head to reign in her muddled thoughts. The Imperial was about to utter another string of curses when a pair of Umbra Wolves materialized from the mist. They each took turns leaping forward, trying to sink their yellowed fangs into her hide. With a growl, the Imperial batted at one with a clawed crimson paw.
She wasn't the strongest dragon in her clan, but when it came to fights like this, strength wasn't nearly as important as speed. What good was it to be able to crush your opponent in a single blow, when you could never land a strike? No, if you were fast, you could slowly whittle away at your opponent while taking little damage, yourself. The wolves were incredibly quick, but they underestimated her own speed.
Her paw struck the first wolf upside the head, momentarily stunning it. Faelara reared her head back, striking like a snake, her fangs digging in to the shadow creature's neck. It wasn't deep enough to be lethal, but with a howl of pain, the canine backed away, melding into the mist once again.
Another wolf immediately took its place, darting forward to slash at her shoulder. She hissed sharply and lashed out for another bite, but it jumped out of the way. The second wolf took the opportunity to bite at her own outstretched neck. Its teeth slid across her scales for a moment, before sinking in deep. The female growled, furiously shaking her head and neck to dislodge the wolf. After a few powerful shakes the wolf's hold broke, the momentum sending him crashing into a tree a few feet away.
Every time she managed to chase a wolf off, another of the shadowy creatures would appear to take its place. The wound on her neck throbbed, and she was quickly accumulating a collection of other cuts, scrapes, and bruises. There was no indication that the fight was even close to ending.
Suddenly, a brown and green Qiriq burst from the woods, throwing itself into the fray. At first Faelara was dismayed. Had more creatures heard the fight, and decided that they were easy prey? Two more creatures, a small Runic bat and a purple Fuiran, quickly joined in the battle.
For what seemed like the thousandth time in a matter of minutes, Faelara was confused. The newcomers were fighting the wolves, completely ignoring her and the equally battered Bone Fiend. In fact, they were even speaking to each other! She knew for a fact that Runic bats didn't speak, and she was relatively certain the others shouldn't have the capability, either.
As odd as the situation had become, the tides seemed to be turning. They were no longer so vastly outnumbered, and Faelara could focus her full fury on one Wolf at a time. The crimson Imperial sent a shadowy wolf flying with a well placed headbutt, her sharp horns slicing its pelt for good measure.
It wasn't long before the five of them defeated the majority of the pack. The few that remained quickly realized they were outmatched, fleeing into the mist in a flurry of yelps and howls. Faelara panted, the full weight of her exhaustion finally catching up with her. The heat of battle had warmed her wings, but she at once wished it hadn't. The bite on her wing joint burned, and her feathers were torn and bloodied in many places. It was then that she realized the position she was now in.
With a start Faelara whirled around, backing up a few paces, crouching low to the ground. What would they do now? The Bone Fiend had made it plenty clear that she wasn't welcome here, and now they no longer had a reason to work together.
"I'll be on my way now. We'll call it even, Bone Fiend. I've had my fill of fighting for the night." Faelara's voice was stronger than she felt, but the dragon couldn't help the pant that parted her jaw after she finished. Her eyes flicked up to the black clouds high above, trying to find a hint of stars to guide her. Nothing. The female cursed internally. She'd gotten so twisted around during the fight, she had no idea which way was south. "If you'd be kind enough to point me south, I'll leave you and your territory alone."
Faelara had to squash down her unease as the Bone Fiend circled around to stand at her back. She was rather impressed that he knew so much about group combat. Rule one, never present your back to the enemy. She recited in her mind. Rule two, always keep the enemy in sight. Rule three-
Her train of thought was harshly interrupted when a painfully loud shriek rent the dank air. It seemed to bounce around in the mist, intensifying to a nearly unbearable level. Her ears rang, and spots of color danced in her vision. It took all her restraint to keep from crying out.
"You Plague-ridden, Shadow-hearted, Banshee-blooded idiot!" She yelled once his screeching stopped, shaking her head to reign in her muddled thoughts. The Imperial was about to utter another string of curses when a pair of Umbra Wolves materialized from the mist. They each took turns leaping forward, trying to sink their yellowed fangs into her hide. With a growl, the Imperial batted at one with a clawed crimson paw.
She wasn't the strongest dragon in her clan, but when it came to fights like this, strength wasn't nearly as important as speed. What good was it to be able to crush your opponent in a single blow, when you could never land a strike? No, if you were fast, you could slowly whittle away at your opponent while taking little damage, yourself. The wolves were incredibly quick, but they underestimated her own speed.
Her paw struck the first wolf upside the head, momentarily stunning it. Faelara reared her head back, striking like a snake, her fangs digging in to the shadow creature's neck. It wasn't deep enough to be lethal, but with a howl of pain, the canine backed away, melding into the mist once again.
Another wolf immediately took its place, darting forward to slash at her shoulder. She hissed sharply and lashed out for another bite, but it jumped out of the way. The second wolf took the opportunity to bite at her own outstretched neck. Its teeth slid across her scales for a moment, before sinking in deep. The female growled, furiously shaking her head and neck to dislodge the wolf. After a few powerful shakes the wolf's hold broke, the momentum sending him crashing into a tree a few feet away.
Every time she managed to chase a wolf off, another of the shadowy creatures would appear to take its place. The wound on her neck throbbed, and she was quickly accumulating a collection of other cuts, scrapes, and bruises. There was no indication that the fight was even close to ending.
Suddenly, a brown and green Qiriq burst from the woods, throwing itself into the fray. At first Faelara was dismayed. Had more creatures heard the fight, and decided that they were easy prey? Two more creatures, a small Runic bat and a purple Fuiran, quickly joined in the battle.
For what seemed like the thousandth time in a matter of minutes, Faelara was confused. The newcomers were fighting the wolves, completely ignoring her and the equally battered Bone Fiend. In fact, they were even speaking to each other! She knew for a fact that Runic bats didn't speak, and she was relatively certain the others shouldn't have the capability, either.
As odd as the situation had become, the tides seemed to be turning. They were no longer so vastly outnumbered, and Faelara could focus her full fury on one Wolf at a time. The crimson Imperial sent a shadowy wolf flying with a well placed headbutt, her sharp horns slicing its pelt for good measure.
It wasn't long before the five of them defeated the majority of the pack. The few that remained quickly realized they were outmatched, fleeing into the mist in a flurry of yelps and howls. Faelara panted, the full weight of her exhaustion finally catching up with her. The heat of battle had warmed her wings, but she at once wished it hadn't. The bite on her wing joint burned, and her feathers were torn and bloodied in many places. It was then that she realized the position she was now in.
With a start Faelara whirled around, backing up a few paces, crouching low to the ground. What would they do now? The Bone Fiend had made it plenty clear that she wasn't welcome here, and now they no longer had a reason to work together.
"I'll be on my way now. We'll call it even, Bone Fiend. I've had my fill of fighting for the night." Faelara's voice was stronger than she felt, but the dragon couldn't help the pant that parted her jaw after she finished. Her eyes flicked up to the black clouds high above, trying to find a hint of stars to guide her. Nothing. The female cursed internally. She'd gotten so twisted around during the fight, she had no idea which way was south. "If you'd be kind enough to point me south, I'll leave you and your territory alone."
@XenSilverQuill
Faelara had to squash down her unease as the Bone Fiend circled around to stand at her back. She was rather impressed that he knew so much about group combat. Rule one, never present your back to the enemy. She recited in her mind. Rule two, always keep the enemy in sight. Rule three-
Her train of thought was harshly interrupted when a painfully loud shriek rent the dank air. It seemed to bounce around in the mist, intensifying to a nearly unbearable level. Her ears rang, and spots of color danced in her vision. It took all her restraint to keep from crying out.
"You Plague-ridden, Shadow-hearted, Banshee-blooded idiot!" She yelled once his screeching stopped, shaking her head to reign in her muddled thoughts. The Imperial was about to utter another string of curses when a pair of Umbra Wolves materialized from the mist. They each took turns leaping forward, trying to sink their yellowed fangs into her hide. With a growl, the Imperial batted at one with a clawed crimson paw.
She wasn't the strongest dragon in her clan, but when it came to fights like this, strength wasn't nearly as important as speed. What good was it to be able to crush your opponent in a single blow, when you could never land a strike? No, if you were fast, you could slowly whittle away at your opponent while taking little damage, yourself. The wolves were incredibly quick, but they underestimated her own speed.
Her paw struck the first wolf upside the head, momentarily stunning it. Faelara reared her head back, striking like a snake, her fangs digging in to the shadow creature's neck. It wasn't deep enough to be lethal, but with a howl of pain, the canine backed away, melding into the mist once again.
Another wolf immediately took its place, darting forward to slash at her shoulder. She hissed sharply and lashed out for another bite, but it jumped out of the way. The second wolf took the opportunity to bite at her own outstretched neck. Its teeth slid across her scales for a moment, before sinking in deep. The female growled, furiously shaking her head and neck to dislodge the wolf. After a few powerful shakes the wolf's hold broke, the momentum sending him crashing into a tree a few feet away.
Every time she managed to chase a wolf off, another of the shadowy creatures would appear to take its place. The wound on her neck throbbed, and she was quickly accumulating a collection of other cuts, scrapes, and bruises. There was no indication that the fight was even close to ending.
Suddenly, a brown and green Qiriq burst from the woods, throwing itself into the fray. At first Faelara was dismayed. Had more creatures heard the fight, and decided that they were easy prey? Two more creatures, a small Runic bat and a purple Fuiran, quickly joined in the battle.
For what seemed like the thousandth time in a matter of minutes, Faelara was confused. The newcomers were fighting the wolves, completely ignoring her and the equally battered Bone Fiend. In fact, they were even speaking to each other! She knew for a fact that Runic bats didn't speak, and she was relatively certain the others shouldn't have the capability, either.
As odd as the situation had become, the tides seemed to be turning. They were no longer so vastly outnumbered, and Faelara could focus her full fury on one Wolf at a time. The crimson Imperial sent a shadowy wolf flying with a well placed headbutt, her sharp horns slicing its pelt for good measure.
It wasn't long before the five of them defeated the majority of the pack. The few that remained quickly realized they were outmatched, fleeing into the mist in a flurry of yelps and howls. Faelara panted, the full weight of her exhaustion finally catching up with her. The heat of battle had warmed her wings, but she at once wished it hadn't. The bite on her wing joint burned, and her feathers were torn and bloodied in many places. It was then that she realized the position she was now in.
With a start Faelara whirled around, backing up a few paces, crouching low to the ground. What would they do now? The Bone Fiend had made it plenty clear that she wasn't welcome here, and now they no longer had a reason to work together.
"I'll be on my way now. We'll call it even, Bone Fiend. I've had my fill of fighting for the night." Faelara's voice was stronger than she felt, but the dragon couldn't help the pant that parted her jaw after she finished. Her eyes flicked up to the black clouds high above, trying to find a hint of stars to guide her. Nothing. The female cursed internally. She'd gotten so twisted around during the fight, she had no idea which way was south. "If you'd be kind enough to point me south, I'll leave you and your territory alone."
Faelara had to squash down her unease as the Bone Fiend circled around to stand at her back. She was rather impressed that he knew so much about group combat. Rule one, never present your back to the enemy. She recited in her mind. Rule two, always keep the enemy in sight. Rule three-
Her train of thought was harshly interrupted when a painfully loud shriek rent the dank air. It seemed to bounce around in the mist, intensifying to a nearly unbearable level. Her ears rang, and spots of color danced in her vision. It took all her restraint to keep from crying out.
"You Plague-ridden, Shadow-hearted, Banshee-blooded idiot!" She yelled once his screeching stopped, shaking her head to reign in her muddled thoughts. The Imperial was about to utter another string of curses when a pair of Umbra Wolves materialized from the mist. They each took turns leaping forward, trying to sink their yellowed fangs into her hide. With a growl, the Imperial batted at one with a clawed crimson paw.
She wasn't the strongest dragon in her clan, but when it came to fights like this, strength wasn't nearly as important as speed. What good was it to be able to crush your opponent in a single blow, when you could never land a strike? No, if you were fast, you could slowly whittle away at your opponent while taking little damage, yourself. The wolves were incredibly quick, but they underestimated her own speed.
Her paw struck the first wolf upside the head, momentarily stunning it. Faelara reared her head back, striking like a snake, her fangs digging in to the shadow creature's neck. It wasn't deep enough to be lethal, but with a howl of pain, the canine backed away, melding into the mist once again.
Another wolf immediately took its place, darting forward to slash at her shoulder. She hissed sharply and lashed out for another bite, but it jumped out of the way. The second wolf took the opportunity to bite at her own outstretched neck. Its teeth slid across her scales for a moment, before sinking in deep. The female growled, furiously shaking her head and neck to dislodge the wolf. After a few powerful shakes the wolf's hold broke, the momentum sending him crashing into a tree a few feet away.
Every time she managed to chase a wolf off, another of the shadowy creatures would appear to take its place. The wound on her neck throbbed, and she was quickly accumulating a collection of other cuts, scrapes, and bruises. There was no indication that the fight was even close to ending.
Suddenly, a brown and green Qiriq burst from the woods, throwing itself into the fray. At first Faelara was dismayed. Had more creatures heard the fight, and decided that they were easy prey? Two more creatures, a small Runic bat and a purple Fuiran, quickly joined in the battle.
For what seemed like the thousandth time in a matter of minutes, Faelara was confused. The newcomers were fighting the wolves, completely ignoring her and the equally battered Bone Fiend. In fact, they were even speaking to each other! She knew for a fact that Runic bats didn't speak, and she was relatively certain the others shouldn't have the capability, either.
As odd as the situation had become, the tides seemed to be turning. They were no longer so vastly outnumbered, and Faelara could focus her full fury on one Wolf at a time. The crimson Imperial sent a shadowy wolf flying with a well placed headbutt, her sharp horns slicing its pelt for good measure.
It wasn't long before the five of them defeated the majority of the pack. The few that remained quickly realized they were outmatched, fleeing into the mist in a flurry of yelps and howls. Faelara panted, the full weight of her exhaustion finally catching up with her. The heat of battle had warmed her wings, but she at once wished it hadn't. The bite on her wing joint burned, and her feathers were torn and bloodied in many places. It was then that she realized the position she was now in.
With a start Faelara whirled around, backing up a few paces, crouching low to the ground. What would they do now? The Bone Fiend had made it plenty clear that she wasn't welcome here, and now they no longer had a reason to work together.
"I'll be on my way now. We'll call it even, Bone Fiend. I've had my fill of fighting for the night." Faelara's voice was stronger than she felt, but the dragon couldn't help the pant that parted her jaw after she finished. Her eyes flicked up to the black clouds high above, trying to find a hint of stars to guide her. Nothing. The female cursed internally. She'd gotten so twisted around during the fight, she had no idea which way was south. "If you'd be kind enough to point me south, I'll leave you and your territory alone."
Stormcatcher bless him, but he would be happy indeed to see the tail end of her leaving these woods. What good had come meeting her this evening, anyway? All he had wanted was to get down to the stream and bathe, to take some fraction of the ache out of his calcifying body. Instead he had met up with this harpy-banshee of a drakka. Her sins in the past half hour alone were too many to properly count: trespassing, dragging him into a fight with a pack of umbra wolves, and being inordinately couragerous- er, stupid – just to name a few. Not to mention he was now cut up like he had taken a flying leap into dusk jadevine patch! And she did not have the decency to give either gratitude or apology!
“Hmph, good riddance then,” he hissed, turning away from her with a huff. “Fly directly into the wind coming from the Sea. Keep going for half a day and that should put you on the northern shore of Water domain. Good evening to you, and don’t let the chimeras jump you on the way out. Not that they will want to get anywhere near you what with those harpy claws and your absolutely stunning personality.” Another disdainful huff and he disappeared as he stalked through the brush towards the creek once more.
“You will have to forgive Mordecai, young one. He is not the most sociable of creatures, and he hates even the most well-meaning of strangers.” It was the runic bat piping up again in her squeaky voice. She scrambled up the fuiran’s chest and neck until she was perched on all fours on the flat top of his head. Reddish-pink eyes big and bright, she tilted her scarred head to one side and then the other as she looked at the Imperial.
“I am Morro, matriarch of our small clan,” she said, her fuzzy chest puffed out as stood as tall as she could on her braced wings. The bat nodded to the qiriq and fuiran in quick succession. “Raksha is our border guardian. She is a loyal but fierce sort, and it may have been to everyone’s good fortune that you ran into Mordecai and not her.” The qiriq did not seem insulted by her leader’s candid words, instead giving her kind’s equivalent of a shrug and circling the Imperial in a wide, relatively non-aggressive manner.
“Tesla here,” Morro continued, tapping his skull with her thumb-claw, “you have already had the misfortune of meeting. He rarely means anything he says, so you need not take any his advances or declarations of love seriously.” “Ah, Morro dearest, you wound me!” the fuiran squawked in mock hurt.
“In any case,” the bat sighed, ignoring her charge, “do not take offense, but I do not think you are in any condition to travel tonight. Judging by the bite on your wing, it was one of my own who wounded you. The least we can do, then, is open our lair to you tonight. Our healer, Gaia, can see to your wounds. Food, rest, and company – you are welcome to it all, if you wish, erm… Young one, forgive me, but what is your name?”
@Raivoid
“Hmph, good riddance then,” he hissed, turning away from her with a huff. “Fly directly into the wind coming from the Sea. Keep going for half a day and that should put you on the northern shore of Water domain. Good evening to you, and don’t let the chimeras jump you on the way out. Not that they will want to get anywhere near you what with those harpy claws and your absolutely stunning personality.” Another disdainful huff and he disappeared as he stalked through the brush towards the creek once more.
“You will have to forgive Mordecai, young one. He is not the most sociable of creatures, and he hates even the most well-meaning of strangers.” It was the runic bat piping up again in her squeaky voice. She scrambled up the fuiran’s chest and neck until she was perched on all fours on the flat top of his head. Reddish-pink eyes big and bright, she tilted her scarred head to one side and then the other as she looked at the Imperial.
“I am Morro, matriarch of our small clan,” she said, her fuzzy chest puffed out as stood as tall as she could on her braced wings. The bat nodded to the qiriq and fuiran in quick succession. “Raksha is our border guardian. She is a loyal but fierce sort, and it may have been to everyone’s good fortune that you ran into Mordecai and not her.” The qiriq did not seem insulted by her leader’s candid words, instead giving her kind’s equivalent of a shrug and circling the Imperial in a wide, relatively non-aggressive manner.
“Tesla here,” Morro continued, tapping his skull with her thumb-claw, “you have already had the misfortune of meeting. He rarely means anything he says, so you need not take any his advances or declarations of love seriously.” “Ah, Morro dearest, you wound me!” the fuiran squawked in mock hurt.
“In any case,” the bat sighed, ignoring her charge, “do not take offense, but I do not think you are in any condition to travel tonight. Judging by the bite on your wing, it was one of my own who wounded you. The least we can do, then, is open our lair to you tonight. Our healer, Gaia, can see to your wounds. Food, rest, and company – you are welcome to it all, if you wish, erm… Young one, forgive me, but what is your name?”
@Raivoid
Stormcatcher bless him, but he would be happy indeed to see the tail end of her leaving these woods. What good had come meeting her this evening, anyway? All he had wanted was to get down to the stream and bathe, to take some fraction of the ache out of his calcifying body. Instead he had met up with this harpy-banshee of a drakka. Her sins in the past half hour alone were too many to properly count: trespassing, dragging him into a fight with a pack of umbra wolves, and being inordinately couragerous- er, stupid – just to name a few. Not to mention he was now cut up like he had taken a flying leap into dusk jadevine patch! And she did not have the decency to give either gratitude or apology!
“Hmph, good riddance then,” he hissed, turning away from her with a huff. “Fly directly into the wind coming from the Sea. Keep going for half a day and that should put you on the northern shore of Water domain. Good evening to you, and don’t let the chimeras jump you on the way out. Not that they will want to get anywhere near you what with those harpy claws and your absolutely stunning personality.” Another disdainful huff and he disappeared as he stalked through the brush towards the creek once more.
“You will have to forgive Mordecai, young one. He is not the most sociable of creatures, and he hates even the most well-meaning of strangers.” It was the runic bat piping up again in her squeaky voice. She scrambled up the fuiran’s chest and neck until she was perched on all fours on the flat top of his head. Reddish-pink eyes big and bright, she tilted her scarred head to one side and then the other as she looked at the Imperial.
“I am Morro, matriarch of our small clan,” she said, her fuzzy chest puffed out as stood as tall as she could on her braced wings. The bat nodded to the qiriq and fuiran in quick succession. “Raksha is our border guardian. She is a loyal but fierce sort, and it may have been to everyone’s good fortune that you ran into Mordecai and not her.” The qiriq did not seem insulted by her leader’s candid words, instead giving her kind’s equivalent of a shrug and circling the Imperial in a wide, relatively non-aggressive manner.
“Tesla here,” Morro continued, tapping his skull with her thumb-claw, “you have already had the misfortune of meeting. He rarely means anything he says, so you need not take any his advances or declarations of love seriously.” “Ah, Morro dearest, you wound me!” the fuiran squawked in mock hurt.
“In any case,” the bat sighed, ignoring her charge, “do not take offense, but I do not think you are in any condition to travel tonight. Judging by the bite on your wing, it was one of my own who wounded you. The least we can do, then, is open our lair to you tonight. Our healer, Gaia, can see to your wounds. Food, rest, and company – you are welcome to it all, if you wish, erm… Young one, forgive me, but what is your name?”
@Raivoid
“Hmph, good riddance then,” he hissed, turning away from her with a huff. “Fly directly into the wind coming from the Sea. Keep going for half a day and that should put you on the northern shore of Water domain. Good evening to you, and don’t let the chimeras jump you on the way out. Not that they will want to get anywhere near you what with those harpy claws and your absolutely stunning personality.” Another disdainful huff and he disappeared as he stalked through the brush towards the creek once more.
“You will have to forgive Mordecai, young one. He is not the most sociable of creatures, and he hates even the most well-meaning of strangers.” It was the runic bat piping up again in her squeaky voice. She scrambled up the fuiran’s chest and neck until she was perched on all fours on the flat top of his head. Reddish-pink eyes big and bright, she tilted her scarred head to one side and then the other as she looked at the Imperial.
“I am Morro, matriarch of our small clan,” she said, her fuzzy chest puffed out as stood as tall as she could on her braced wings. The bat nodded to the qiriq and fuiran in quick succession. “Raksha is our border guardian. She is a loyal but fierce sort, and it may have been to everyone’s good fortune that you ran into Mordecai and not her.” The qiriq did not seem insulted by her leader’s candid words, instead giving her kind’s equivalent of a shrug and circling the Imperial in a wide, relatively non-aggressive manner.
“Tesla here,” Morro continued, tapping his skull with her thumb-claw, “you have already had the misfortune of meeting. He rarely means anything he says, so you need not take any his advances or declarations of love seriously.” “Ah, Morro dearest, you wound me!” the fuiran squawked in mock hurt.
“In any case,” the bat sighed, ignoring her charge, “do not take offense, but I do not think you are in any condition to travel tonight. Judging by the bite on your wing, it was one of my own who wounded you. The least we can do, then, is open our lair to you tonight. Our healer, Gaia, can see to your wounds. Food, rest, and company – you are welcome to it all, if you wish, erm… Young one, forgive me, but what is your name?”
@Raivoid