Lin shuddered as she laid her eyes on what was once Lord Danath's ancestral weapon and something deep down inside her told her that weapon was more dangerous then ever before. When the Captain spoke of its enchantments she kept her features and demeanor warm and friendly, despite how she truly felt. She pulled to her sense though as the Captain bestow his many gifts on her fellow Skyknights and she bowed her head as she spoke. "Thank you Captain, I will wear it with pride and please give my thanks to your craftsmen as well and thank you again for taking care of Brook as well."
She pried her eyes off the lance and watched her rider as he looked to be in shock at what was being given to them. When he looked to be about to stagger she made sure to sidle up behind him so he had some sort of support. From then on she just watched, pleased at how her rider's emotions thrummed across the bond. It was a great day in the Shining City.
Maiathreen nods his head in thanks for the new equipment as he slides the wand and rod into small sheath like compartments on his clothing and clasps the amulet around his neck. His scales shimmer for a moment and seem to harden and thicken. "Of course captain." Maiathreen says as he shrugs his shoulders to Livain in confusion.
"Many thanks for all tha you have done!"
As Captain Harrix hands out the incredible treasure trove of items, each one a significant boon on its own, Aylaeth handles care with care and expresses her sincere gratitude "My deepest thanks Captain to you, your craftmasters and your quartermasters. I fully understand how dear such items are, especially at a time such as this. I do swear, by the master of vaults himself, that I will indeed do my utmost to ensure that all I have been given shall be used to combat this deadly evil that we all now face."
Bowing formally to the Captian she secures all of her items. Turning to her paige sge says "Alain, please make all haste to the stables and bring Tora'an here with you. There is no need to tether or lead him, simply ask him to come join me, he can perfectly understand all that you say to him" As the boy's eyes widen in surprise and eagerness to meet such a legendary creature she hides her smile until he has already turned and dashed off.
Lin turned back to Damian, pointedly not looking at the lance as she spoke quietly to him. "Your concern is very appreciated Sir Damian, we had no idea of what we would face behind those doors and I did not mean to sound cruel or judgmental only stating a new found danger that coould affect those of us that carry a bond like Min and I. But if our situation forces us to use them yet again, at least we know where to turn to be cleansed. I hope though that I do not have to look upon Kalaroth's face for some time yet, I looked him in the eyes Damian and the evil I beheld crushed my will to the point where all I could do was watch in terror..." As her thoughts turned on her she looked away from Damian and found herself looking at Brook and Sarish. The sight helped ground her back in the moment, banishing her previous thoughts as she tilted her head, a toothy grin splitting her muzzle as she rumbled warmly at the pair. "I just don't want to see either of them hurt, what Min and I went through was frightening but for them it would be much worse I believe. I so look forward to their twinned future and hope that they become a bonded pair, it would shine my scales to see that. Your a good man Sir Damian and you have the greatest responsibility of us all, not only do you lead us but you are setting Brook's life course day by day and I foresee a bright future in store for him. A Very bright future~"
True to his word Belsarious produces the old wand of Cure moderate wounds....
"For your stores, 20 uses remain untapped within."
"No I'm afraid not…" Maiathreen says as he hesitates for a moment and then offers Ian a formal black dragon flight salute right hand twisted down over the sternum accompanied by a stiff bow from the waist.
After talking Maiathreen with the slightest hesitation heads over to Sir Damian. "Sir Damian…it's come to my attention that Servais almost killed a cleric who was attempting to enchant him. Apparently it has something to do with some agenda or his that I was unaware of. I'm going to take my leave and head to mine and Cyra's room if you need me send a page when it's time to go." Maiathreen whispers to Livain and then solemnly heads over to the piled gear and slowly straps Servais to his waist. The two Aellar then head out of the room.
@Sir Damian: Captain Harrix gives Maiathreen a troubled but sympathetic look. Whatever exchange occurred between them seems to have given the paladin a new respect for the slim and winged elf-like warrior and his lifemate. As Mai makes his way out, Harrix yells over to Sir Damian.
"Lamorak! A word with you please. There is a matter we must discuss."
@Belsarious: One of the Quartermaster's troops takes the wand and gives you a polite bow. "Thank you, sir. It is much appreciated. Every last little bit helps."
@Aylaeth: There is the sound of chattering and giggling, a slightly officious voice clearly Holding Forth to someone, and Alain comes back in with Tora'an, the pegasus's hooves gently clopping on the marble floor. The noble celestial is speaking at great length about his exploits in the sky, and Alain is utterly smitten, his jaw open and eyes wide half in disbelief at interacting with a creature out of legend -- a beast chosen by the gods for duty and grace -- and half in wonder at what derring-do noble Tora'an is describing.
You are jerked out of trying to discern what this sound is by a very distinctive sound that only the two of you and young Sarish understand the significance of. A faint, choking growl from a distant antechamber...
It is the sound of a dragon crying.
Laughs heartily...
Tilts his head to the pegasus....
"Had I known a flyin mount was here, surely I would have requested one!"
Min looks saddened as he recognizes the sound, he looks to young Sarish and seeing the saddeness in the young dragons only confirms what he had hoped to deny. He clasped his mothers blade back across his back with the hilt sticking over his left shoulder. He turned to Sir Damian before he was pulled away by Captain Harrix and said. "whatever you decide our standard to be I am confident it will fit us well, please excuse us. We have someone important to check on and we will return shortly if able."
Looking to Sarish he gives the young dragon a significant look and gestures with his hand, stay put, before moving from the hall in search for where the noises are coming from. As Min leaves Lin is close behind him after nodding respectfully to her fellow skyknights and soldiers of Izmir.
She catches up to Min quickly and walks beside him as he looks up at her. "Na-Verinath perhaps? How do we comfort him?"
Maiathreen walks alongside Livain his hand hovering near Servais' hilt but not quite touching the ornate hilt. He takes a deep breath readying himself for the coming meeting with his black blade. He can feel Servais probing his mind but he shuts down his mental connection to a buzz in the back of his mind. He arrives at the door to the room he and Livain had stayed in he asks her to guard the door and allow no one in until he comes out. He can't guarante what will happen when he goes in he had never had to make such an intimate connection with Servais he'd heard of some magus who went in and never came out or were completely consumed by their blade.
He walked into the room barring the door behind him. He shed his tunic allowing the cloth to fall to the ground. He draws a knife and slices the palm of his hand and begins drawing archaic symbols in a circle around him and Servais one large cycle and two smaller circles one around him and one around Servais. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply he holds the breath and releases it slowly. When he opens his eyes he sees a white landscape with a black sky. Purple lightning streaks across he sky and connecting the land to the sky leaving the smell of ozone in the air.
"Servais!! I call out to your true form show your self before me! NOW!!!" Maiathreen calls out a burst of energy blasting out in a radius of energy cracking the ground around him.
Lin looks at her rider sadly as she speaks quietly to him. "I don't think he is ready to see me with my own rider. The wounds are still to fresh, let me handle this and you take care of disposing of those extra weapons to the quartermasters."
Min nodded to her but continued to follow her until they found the source of the heart wrenching sobs. Min did however lagged a few feet behind Lin to try and mask his presence.
Livain carries with her a wooden chair made of old oak out of their room. With trembling hands she closes the door behind Maiathreen and drags the chair next to the door. She seats herself in an almost reticent manner with only the faint hum of her breath to be heard. For a moment her eyes closed allowing the soft kohl-lined lids a quick rest. She took another deep breath and released it slowly. She opens her eyes and glances about. Her fingers wander over to her pendant that sat between her breasts. She held it close to her heart and for it was one of her first gifts from Maiathreen. It always gave her great comfort in times of worry. She couldn't help but wonder what was going on behind the door. She slid one hand behind her and blindly traced the carved wood door frame then circled the brass knob with her thumb. She was ever vigilant waiting, making sure no one entered the room.
Aylaeth laughs and genuine surprise as well as delight is clearly evident on her face as she moves over to Toran'an and the enchanted Alain. Placing a familiar hand on her lifemate's neck, the great steed gently nuzzles the side of her face in a gesture the two have repeated a thousand thousand times.
Unable to resit the urge to tousle Alain's hair the Slyph says "Why Alain, perhaps you are destined to be a pegaus's rider after all! I have not heard Tora'an speak so many words to another beside myself in..why, I don't even remember when. He must truly like you!"
Answering the insinuated question himself, the great winged celestial horse lord speaks in his deep, authoritative voice "The boy's heart is crystal pure, my Andeau, and it has been far too long since I have been privileged to bask in the innocence of the young. It is truly a pleasure.
Smiling even wider, thrilled at the happiness of her heart-mate, Aylaeth retrieves the magical amulet recently given to her by Captian Harrix. Clasping it around Tora'an mighty neck, his glittering white/silver coat seems to glint like sparkling refraction from a gemstone for a moment. Explaining she says "There, that should help keep you a little safer my friend." Turing back to Alian once again she says with an impish grin "Now, I wonder if there's anyone here who would like to take to the skies with me on the back of my winged friend here?"
Then raising her voice she calls out "Commander, unless you have further need of us sir, I am taking Tora'an out for some fresh air and if I can find a squire who wishes to join me I may just bring him along!"
Damian walks next to Harrix, watching the rest of his Skyknights as they make their way out of the room. He waits until they are alone, then asks, "Captain, what do you need to discuss with me? I have a small errand to run before I leave, in the creation and production of a standard and tabards for the Skyknights."
@Sir Damian: Captain Harrix smiles as you come over. He is clearly exhuasted, like all of you, but seems very pleased. "Lamorak, I wanted to wait until today to do this, even if only because I could be fresher, we would have the Abominations locked away, and we could be here, in the Hall, in the Light." He takes a small box off the table and opens it, showing you the contents. A pair of silver bars, each no longer than an inch, and with a brooch-like pin on the back, are contained within. There is also a dull-colored patch emblazoned with a stitched version of the same bars laid over the shield and sword of the Inheritor. Harrix claps you on the shoulder.
"Congratulations...Captain." He smiles, then stands back. "Your commission is already signed and official. General Merit will not take no for an answer on this. In the short term this won't change much, of course; your command remains the same, as does your theater of operation. But I'm sure you're aware of the implications. Korius has re-instated the Silver Flame, with full privileges, and made them the 3rd Army. Your Skyknights will be the 3rd Cavalry, Air Division, and will be expanded upon the completion of your current mission to include full brigades of Griffonriders and Dragonriders. Hope you've got a lieutenant picked out."
@Lin: As you approach you are struck, even in your current state with a thousand thoughts swirling around in your mind, by the ease with which you are able to get around, here in the Cathedral of the West. You're not 100% certain, but it occurs to you that these buildings were built specifically with dragons in mind, and dragons much larger than yourself, at that.
It occurs to you that you do not know just how old the Paladine of Izmir are, as an organization, and how far back their collusion with your kind goes. On either side of you great statues look up, their faces noble and kind, their bodies in peaceful repose or eternal vigilance. Men, elves, dragons, halflings, many creatures, all captured here and venerated on equal footing. The richness of the materials and design of each statue is equal to the next, no one being placed on a higher pedestal than any other, yet all placed up for the observer's consideration, each subject's deeds listed on the plinths below him.
Windows at the roofline let in the sun, and its golden rays are bounced and reflected and magnified off a thousand ingeniously placed surfaces such that the hall is very well-lit with no need for braziers, and you get the feeling you are suffused with golden light, as if you were walking a celestial path out of Elysia itself, and you feel yourself settle to a more contemplative state. Your nreves even out, your mind finds focus on the task at hand.
Such is the greatness of the Cathedrals of Izmir.
You come to a huge ceremonial room, one very similar to the one in which Bishop Janssen performed the Rite of Ph'al Fennereth on you and Min a scant couple hours ago, where a body is being laid out in state, and prepared for burial. Based on Na-Verinath's presence, it is not difficult to guess whose still form is lying on the slab. The copper dragon barely flicks his eyes to acknowledge your presence, such is his grief. The Rites are being performed under the tireless eyes of a senior cleric, a tall and slender man who stands perfectly straight and seems to be taking in every detail. He notices you come around the corner and nods politely, but says nothing.
As they work, the half-dozen clerics attending to the rider sing in solemn harmony.
Attend, attend
We commend this one
This brave fallen one
To your halls above
Lady of Justice
Shining Iomedae
May his spirit serve you there
As did his body here
Attend, attend
He comes
It is known that dragon's tears have a number of magical and medicinal qualities, and that many a mage would pay high dollar to come into possession of even just a few. Yet as Na-Verinath weeps, his tears fall unclaimed, splashing on the pristine marble floor, his grief and privacy and dignity worth far more to the men of Izmir than any amount of money some mere mage could offer them.
The clerics do not look up from their duty, not even once. The Rite must be completed with utmost care and attention. It is all any man can do.
"We have been rested an our stores replenished an hospitatility in abundance, so we have a task tah perform."
Searches for Sir D. knowing it is the only way we will actually leave.
@major NPC's
"Please allow yer labors tah continue unabated on tha ability tah destroy tha final abomination in place, I fear tha re-course is mah destiny, an tha reason tha first abomination has tainted mah soul."
@Min: You begin following Lin, but a squire stops you. Possibly more than a squire, actually; this boy looks to be about 17, and you're not sure what the cutoff age is. Regardless, he bears the insignia of the church, and is clad in vestments of a cleric. Maybe a junior cleric of some kind?
"Sir, I have books for you. Copies of scriptures, and the edicts and tenets of the Inheritor and Dawnflower both." He hands you the books. "These are rather portable, and as such quite popular. All the other dragonriders take these vol-" The boy suddenly stops talking, and is looking over your shoulder. He blanches. "Um. L-lord Min, sir, your bow...your...Enhathladi bow...sir, it's bleeding."
@Maiathreen: "ccccccccCalm yoursssssssself, mmmmmmmmagus."
The voice, a basso rumble both ominous and familiar, comes from everywhere and nowhere at once. As you stand on the featureless expanse of whatever arcane limbo exists outside your protected circle, a blackness gathers, seeming to be possessed of intent, and starts to swirl around you. Tendrils rise and fall, curious shapes spin and cavort just past the edge of your vision, but the threshold of your circle remains inviolate.
"wwwwwwwWhy arrrrrrre yyyyyyyyou hhhhhhhhhere?" the voice asks plainly. You know it is Servais, but he (or it) sounds oddly diffuse, as if speaking from a great distance, and behind a wall.
@Livain: A velvet darkness spills out from under the door. Mai groans. The ambient light around you lowers.
@Aylaeth: Alain is no fool, and of course neither are any of the officers present. The boy is in your charge during your stay, and so of course he is allowed to go. "Um, Lady Aylaeth, do you...do you really mean I could...ride so noble a being as Tora'an? That...I could never presume such a thing! Simply to speak from a creature of the Heavens is...is too much." The lad looks about to burst. Here around him are warriors and scholars and creatures out of legend.
Min looks over his shoulder and the look of shock on his face, makes the boy blanch further, he hadn't felt any problems with Avenaada but that was the point. Avenaada had been oddly quietly, more so then usual. He took hold of Avenaada and closed his eyes, focusing on the bond he had formed with his lifebow in the hopes that it would speak to him.
{Avenaada what can I do to help you? What is causing this?} Hoping he had made some sort of contact he takes the scriptures under one arm and bows to the young cleric. "Thank you for your help, please excuse me." His strides carry him quickly away from Lin and he headed back to their room to see if he could try and discern what was wrong with Avenaada. He did not put the bow away the entire walk back to their rooms, he had a terrible feeling that the rites that severed Kalaroth from Lin must have severed Avenaada from him...
Hopefully she would survive this as well...
Aylaeth laughs again at Alain's questions and comments, her mood lighter than it had been for a long, long time. Tora'an snorts a pleased horse fluffle as well and she even a wave of amused pleasure emanating from her normally more serious meined familiar. This had become quite the wonderful day already and, at least for one certain young squire, was about to become much better!
Without another word, already knowing her equine companion will not mind, the magus grabs Alian under his arms and hoists him right up on Tora'an's big, broad back. "Then you need not presume at all my young friend! You need just Enjoy!"
Feeling quite strongly that it would not respectful for she herself to ride through Izmir's grand halls unless in an emergency, she walks alongside Tora'an, hand gently on his neck, and indulgently, cheerfully answeriing all of Alain's million and one questions until they reach the huge courtyard. Once outside she proceeds to strap the young page securely onto the back of her saddle and then expertly legs herself up onto Tora'an. Next she performs her standard pre-flight routines and then turns her head to call out over her shoulder "Now, I know you're strapped in Alion, but you must still hold onto me as tight as you can and onto to Tora'an even tighter by squeezing your legs together. Do not worry, you cannot hurt him and it is practice that may one day save your one day life for, should you ever be in a battle situation, you may not always have time to properly strap yourself in before needing to take flight."
As she says all of this Ada'an flutters off of her head and lands gently on Aloin's head, adjusting his size to snugly fit the smaller skull. He then murmurs to the boy, making sure to do so loud enough for Tora'an to hear "I would listen to her lad if I were you, this bag of horse bones may not look like much, but he Can fly".
Hearing the comment and, given his mood, responding with much better humour than he otherwise might have, says commandingly "So it is Flying you wish to see you old winged rust bucket? Then Fly We Shall!"[b] and with a quick dash and mighty leap and flap of his powerful wings the pegas lord and those upon his back burst upon the sky. Blazing up at a steep angle towards the sun, it's bright rays glinting and sparkling off of scintillating celestial hide and Aylaeth's mithral armor, and rocketing faster than virtually anything else in the sky save the most ancient of dragons, the group looks nothing so much like a reverse shooting star in the daytime.
Whooping out loud with pure exhilaration Aylaeth's heart thrums with pride and love for her magnificent equine companion and unadulterated joy and gratitude at their having found each other. To his great credit, instead of being terrified as many, if not most would be in his situation, Alian whoops right along with her. [b]"That's the spirit boy!" she hollers to be heard over the great wind generated by their passage through the sky "We'll make a pegasus rider of you yet!"
As they soar higher and higher into the sky, all of Izmir and then soon the black dragonflight encampment around it quickly come into view. This day though, on this glorious beautiful day, the smiling Slyph does not let her thoughts turn to matters of war and death. She does though offer up a silent, solemn, and heartfelt prayer to her Lord
Great Abadar,
Guardian of the Vault
Judge of the very Gods themselves
Long have you guided and protected your faithful
And for this and more you have my heartfelt gratitude and devout worship
Such humble gifts as they are.
I beseech you that you guide and protect this youth
This child of noble and good heart
Allow him to grow to adulthood and beyond
Help steer him on the path which shall most benefit all of mankind,
May he live to reach the great potential I can so clearly see he possesses
For myself I ask naught but your merciful blessing and all knowing guidance
In our fight against the scourge of the Black Dragonflight
May I be the tool of your will to help sweep this plague
This threat to civilization itself, off our land forevermore
Thank you for this glorious day
Thank you for all that you have so bountifully given
I ever remain, your humble servant'
Her prayer finished and her spirit bolstered she again looks back over her shoulder and asks "So? Is there anywhere you wish to go or anything you wish to see?"
She had tried to remain calm but she couldn't help but feel anguish as she knew that the quiet sobs were Na-Verinath. As she stepped further into the Cathedral, Min was distracted by a young cleric with books of scripture.
When Ioseph went to follow Min, Lin could feel her riders need to take care of something himself. So she beckoned the young page to follow her into the Cathedral and stand quietly beside Na-Verinath, she made sure to stand a step behind the copper dragon. She motion Ioseph to remain silent with a single claw as the rites being performed on the fallen rider. As Na-Verinath continued to cry, consumed with grief, Lin too felt herself begin to break down, because one day she would feel this pain. Whether Min dies in battle or passes quietly into the next life the pain will be the same, as if someone had cut out her heart and split it in twain...
As tears of her own started to fall she couldn't help but place her palm against Na-Verinaths back and gently rub his back, it was an odd thing to do but whenever she was upset Min had comforted her this way. She hoped Na-Verinath would understand the meaning and take heart in the fact he wasn't alone. That he had friends he could count on even though he only knew them for less then a day.
Lin prayed quietly as her tears continued to run freely, she prayed along with the clerics in the hope that the Inheritor would accept this man into her holy host. So that he may serve again...
Damian smiles broadly at Captain Harrix, one of the few times his stoicism cracks. "Of course, sir. I would be honored. I will fly true and honest, dedicating myself to protecting Izmir. Thank you, sir." He affixes the bars to his shoulders, replacing the plain ones that affix his cloak into place. He shakes Captain Harrix's hand, noting with some pride that they are now equals (in rank, at least). "I have an idea regarding the lieutenant, but I will have to raise the question with him first."
Captain Lamorak excuses himself from the Hall, intent on heading into the city's merchant district. While the siege surely limits the city's productions, it also likely left quite a bit of goods left unsold in the markets. He heads into a tailor's shop that advertises its wares in the front with several fluttering textiles of various rich colors.
Min reached his assigned quarters more or less unmolested, merely getting odd looks from clergymen and soldiers gave him a wide berth as he strode his way past. Once he was back in their shared quarters he let as much light into the room as possible, he hoped to replicate when they bonded the first time. Once he was sure everything was as good as he could make it he kneeled before Aveanaada and took hold of the lifebow once more lifting her off the containment cloth that he had set under her frame and the stone floor.
He cleared his mind and focused on his connection with the lifebow, he understood her want for silence but now was not the time. Now was the time to talk and connect with him further. {Aveanaada, I am here. What can I do to help?}
Belsarious considers the improving mood of his companions....
"Perchance our time here has been well spent, I would prefer tah travel with companions revitalized an wit a great sense o purpose. Our time here has restored them unto themselves, I had been too focused upon whippin us forwards, like tha rider wit no consideration fer tha mount, pushing it tah death rather tha allowin fer a rest."
Long pause
"Still much remains undone."
@Maiathreen: "ccccccccCalm yoursssssssself, mmmmmmmmagus."
The voice, a basso rumble both ominous and familiar, comes from everywhere and nowhere at once. As you stand on the featureless expanse of whatever arcane limbo exists outside your protected circle, a blackness gathers, seeming to be possessed of intent, and starts to swirl around you. Tendrils rise and fall, curious shapes spin and cavort just past the edge of your vision, but the threshold of your circle remains inviolate.
"wwwwwwwWhy arrrrrrre yyyyyyyyou hhhhhhhhhere?" the voice asks plainly. You know it is Servais, but he (or it) sounds oddly diffuse, as if speaking from a great distance, and behind a wall.
Maiathreen glances at the shadows but is confidant in his barrier and ignores them. "I'm here because of this cleric you nearly killed and some agenda you've kept hidden from me for all this time." He replies calmly pushing through the fog of this dream not dream. Trying to figure out why Servais' voice seems distant…
@Sir Damian: You are indeed easily able to locate whatever textiles you need, and the shopkeep is quite happy to have a paying customer like yourself in his store during such times. The man is able to recommend a good tailor who can complete the customizing work for you in short order, by sundown if needed , and at a terrific rate.
@Maiathreen: "I killllllllled...nnnnnnNobody. iiiiiiiiIf sssssSome wwweak-wwwwillled fffffffFOOLS thinnnnnnnk to commmmmmmmune wwwwwwith mmmmmmmME annnnnnd cccccccCannot face the ccConnnnnsequencesssss...THAT issssss harrrdly mmmmmmMy fffffault."
The smoke twists and thickens, beginning to cloud the horizon. Suddenly a tendril of cloud jabs across the dome of arcane power circumscribed by your Circle.
The cloud strikes you in the sternum and spears you through the chest, the sudden and lightning-fast movement taking you completely by surprise. You feel as if a thousand needles are being shoved into your heart, and you feel a massive presence, impossibly old and powerful and very, very far away, pushing against your spirit, leaking into your mind.
There is a calming fog, and you hear Servais' voice much more directly in your mind, now; "Rest, magus. I cannot fully form in this filthy little place of light and men. I need the dark. I need the true dark. Once we leave this place, we will speak again, when I can summon my true power. For now, I leave you with this warning..." Another squeeze around your heart and you are shocked by enormous pain, as if all your bones just grew razor spikes inside your slim body. "...seek not to oppose me, little magus. I travel with you because our goals are somewhat aligned, and your potential for power pleases me. You do not want to be on my...heh heh...bad side."
The tendril pulls back, and you note the-voice-that-is-Servais grunts in pain as the tendril crosses your magical threshold. Light returns, and you find yourself once again in Izmir, kneeling on the floor, wracked with pain.
@Livain: Light slowly returns to normal and from behind the door you hear your husband grunt in pain and fall to his knees.
@Min: As you leave the cathedral, you feel a sudden chill, one so fierce it steals the breath right from your lungs. Instead of the faint smell of burning wood and incense of the Great Square of Izmir, you smell peat and cold, rich loam and dead leaves. The grass crunches under your feet and, looking down, you see you are walking on moss.
You are no longer where you were.
You reach out for the Bond but cannot detect Lin at all. There is nothing there but an empty void, a dead channel, a cold wind that blows off the blasted steppes, the steppes of Enhathlad.
You are on a low heath, walking on dry, dead moss. There are cold and harsh flats between low hills for miles around you. Light fog is moving in. There are mountains to the south, far, far to the south. In the distance are shapes that could conceivably be people, but they are so still. Shadows move across the ground but you see nothing flying. The wind blasts you, slicing through your clothes, your flesh, your veins, cleaving straight to the center of your bones. You shiver involuntarily.
Avenaada's voice comes to your mind, clear and loud. "All Lands Are One Land, Dragonrider." she spits this last word as if it were a foul curse. "You serve a Higher Purpose. You serve no dogma. Leave those books here, in the steppes. And I will return you." Looking down you see you still hold the two books of scripture of the Inheritor and the Dawnflower. Both are so cold in your arms that they burn. "You serve All People, you serve All Lands. Your purpose is higher than any god can conceive."
You are very, very cold.
@Aylaeth: Alain gasps and yells, the wind tearing his joyous shouts right from his mouth and tossing them twisting and cavorting back down to the ground, where a few other (now quite jealous) pages watch from the turf.
At your question, he pauses. Tears are frozen to his cheeks; tears likewise of joy and just from the wind. "I...I couldn't pre-...I..." He stammers a moment, out of breath, then his brow knits. "Could we fly past my father's house? Perhaps? If it's no trouble, I mean. I can direct you there..." he puts forth tentatively.
Maiathreen worriedly places his hand on his chest expecting to find a terrible wound along with shards of broken ribs. He is relived to find unbroken scales but the lingering pain is still mind numbing. He draws on his reserves of magic and everything went white, it was like taking moltlanguid in his veins and his bones going so cold they'd crack under the stress. Et he manages to unbar the door yanking it open. "Livain…so cold…" He stutters between clenched teeth as the door opens the light coming into the room is like shoving needles into his brain.
Min shivered from the cold despite his best efforts, this was a cold unlike any other he had felt before. He kept his grip on the pair of scriptures, despite how much the cold was burning him, trying to remain defiant as he faced Avenaada's wrath. He did his best to ignore the emptiness that filled him as he felt the bond was so cold and inert, just like it had been when they went through the rites only a few hours before.
Slowly though as he stood shaking from the cold he realized that Avenaada's words rang true. He had swore to defend the innocent and it would fight alongside him as an ally and he had agreed to a hard bargain then. This was the consequence of that decision, he had to make concessions in order to maintain that tenuous relationship. He looked at the distant shapes as he spoke loud and clear into the cold winds that assailed him. "WE serve a higher purpose, it isn't just me, I am but one and alone I accomplish nothing! But together we are many, You, Lin and I have a shared path. I am sure you can see my thoughts. What do you think I am preparing her for? When my bones have long turned to dust she will continue to grace the skies and bring justice to those who have none! I will not live forever and I will be damned if I don't try to leave something behind before I am gone."
He sets the books down on the steppes, his defiance was spent but his steely gaze wasn't effected by the cold as much as his weakening knees. As he continued to watch the approaching fog he spoke again loudly, in complete defiance to the howling winds of the steppes surrounding him. "I consider you an ally Avenaada and not some mere tool, from now on you will think the same..."
@Min: The second you set the books down, the wind stops, and you are again standing in the lush, deep-green, thick grass of the Great Square. The air is again redolent of sandalwood and lilac, steel and comforting wood fires. There is no longer any blood on your bow. Indeed, there is no sign there ever was any at all. Only the missing books indicate to you that you went anywhere. The Bond is once again in place and feeding you information of Lin's state of mind and presence.
Avenaada says nothing.
"But of course my young friend! What a delight for your family and us all this will be! Just point the direction and Tora'an will take us there!" and putting words to action, once the overjoyed Alain points out the direction, Aylaeth guides Tora'an there with the subtle pressure of her knees against his torso.
'And so the Gods do answer prayers' thinks the magus. For although she would never say such to Alain, nor almost never has to anyone else either, being an orphan, matters of family have always been poignant affairs for her. Yet she is always genuinely pleased to witness positive and loving interactions between others and their loving family.
Calling out again to Alain she asks "We shall be there soon! Do you wish to just pass by high above, or close enough so they can see us? Or would you rather land and visit for a little bit? We cannot stay long if you choose the last, but we have some time allotted to us still. The choice is yours!"
Alain directs you to a northern suburb of the city, almost equidistant from the north gate and the Great Square. It does not take long to fly there. The neighborhood is made almost entirely of residences, mixed in with a couple shops here and there. The houses are uniformly two stories tall with good tile roofs and solid stone or wood construction. All appear to be very well-built. Sturdy. As you fly down, the boy directs you to a small courtyard, and a house on the circle there. "That's it! That's my house. Oh! And that's my family there!"
You approach and land on the cobbles not far from a fountain that is a smaller, mundane version of the enormous Fount of the Inheritor in the Square. Small children come running from all over to see you, but all are too intimidated to get any closer than a few feet away and stand, gape-mouthed, taking in the sight of a sylph wearing an angel astride a celestial pegasus. Alain's eyes are bright and he looks fit to burst with pride.
Two kids come forward, both boys a bit younger than Alain; one is maybe seven and the other six. From the look they share, it's clear these are his family, or part of it anyway. "Alain...what...who's THAT?!" the older one asks.
This courtyard is circular and perhaps 100' in diameter, with the fountain at the center. There are a little over a dozen kids around you, and you see a few adults watching from doorways, keeping a wary eye out, but not looking unfriendly necessarily; they just don't know you, and this is a time of war.
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The day passes quickly. Maiathreen, Livain, and Belsarious all remain hidden. Lin and Ioseph help comfort Na-Verinath as best they can back in the eyrie while Min stands thoughtfully in front of the Fount of the Inheritor for a long time. Brook spends the day getting Sarish's bulky, strange frame outfitted with armor and riding gear and then taking little practice flights with his new friend, who proves to be an extremely skilled flyer.
It is after nightfall that Sir Damian returns with the Standard of the Skyknights; a giant, glorious banner showing Iomedae's sword flanked by two white angel wings, all on a sea of deep, rich blue. He also has tabards and cloaks for each of you, as is appropriate, to wear. Putting them on, you look like a solid, formiddable unit.
You look like a team.
It is a beautiful moment, there outside under the stars, in the Great Square where you all have gathered after dinner, and Captain Harrix looks wistful, but also very hopeful. Clearly he is happy for you all. The good mood must be contagious because you could swear you hear music. Lin and Min shake their heads, as do Brook and Sarish. All four say they hear some kind of distant noise across their Bond. They look agitated, then suddenly stop and look up, their eyes wide. Tears fall down Brook's cheeks. "Sarish, can you hear it? It's so...so beautiful!" he gasps.
Captain Harrix stands suddenly and looks up, as well. "Can it be...? Oh, what luck. This would be such luck!" he says.
There is a swelling of music all around you; a glorious celestial orchestra, bright and alien in the air yet utterly your own and noble and ennervating in your heart; horns, strings, lutes, and voices, oh the swirling and uplifting glory of those voices locked in harmonies of strength and beauty that no darkness can throw down. The very spirit of hope, of life, of escape lives between the notes in those chords.
Suddenly arcane characters burst swirling into the air above you, whooshing and twisting in three huge circles, and doors slowly open in the sky. The music swells and three massive dragons rocket out of the doors at full speed. There is a definitive perfect cadence in the music and as quickly as the doors appeared, they are gone, shut swiftly by some unseen hand.
"...Atiamu...!" breathes Captain Harrix, and his joy is obvious.
The three dragons are burdened, heavily, with...bodies? Each is clearly , and the Bond between rider and dragon is so strong for each of them that the riders all have instruments they are playing as they ride, wheeling around in a great arc and coming to a gentle, perfect landing about a hundred yards away.
Ian, suddenly solemn, calls over his shoulder. "Sound the alarm! Healers! Come forth! NOW!" Silver bells begin to ring and clerics and paladine come rushing out from all over, descending on these three dragons. The riders have climbed back and are unwinding the ropes binding what are definitely a collection of carefully bound bodies, though all the bodies seem to be wounded, not dead. The riders are two women and a man, and the dragons are a brass, a silver, and a copper.
Ian looks at you. "Come. This is such a boon. Come meet the last of the Dragonsingers." He heads off at a trot across the Square.
Min had thought long and hard about his dealings with his lifebow today, he felt like he had lost a great test of will. As he stood before the Font of the Inheritor he found his thoughts wandering to his earlier prayers, it had been one of the few times he had been thankful to any of the gods for their help and yet he still found only silence. Some were lucky to have a god to guide them, for him he had only Lin, his lifebow occasionally and himself. He noticed then a flicker of movement approaching and he turned to see Sir Damian with a large new banner and carrying sets of clothes.
As Sir Damian came closer Min put on a forced smile, which was soon replaced with a bright smile as they were all presented with the tabards and cloaks. He knew that soon their symbol would soon be known throughout the land. They would throw down evil, crush those who defile the innocent and purge the wicked in their coming quests. The Lionhearts may be gone but the Skyknight's had come.
He congratulated Captain Damian in light of his recent promotion and had been about to say something else when the singing began filling the bond. At first Min hardened himself for yet another invasion of Lin and his bond, but what came instead was... very unexpected. He felt uplifted as if his troubles were suddenly pulled off his shoulders, as if the pain in the world was swept away and replaced with a joyous music that he couldn't help but dance to. His heart swelled with joy until it was near to bursting and as Captain Harrix called for healers he found himself rushing to the fore with the rest. Heedless of the dangers he saw chasing the Dragonsingers through the gates.
Min was stronger then an Ox and could easily carry the bound bodies to where they needed to go and as he gently deposited them he hummed an old Heartland tune. One he had thought he had forgotten long ago...
Lin sighs as all her stress is washed away by the sounds of the heavenly music of the Dragonsingers. She found it hard to focus and despite the terrible things that pursued the Dragonsingers, she felt at peace for once in many many days. She watched her rider work away to help the many injured that were suddenly brought to Izmir's doorstep and smiled toothily, the bond was a wonderful thing and for some it was more powerful then anything imaginable. As her eyes fell upon the Ancient silver she couldn't help but gap in awe at the majesty of the great ancient.
As Min set down another bound body for the delicate ministrations of a nearby healer, he nodded to the Dragonsingers and their dragon companions. He smiled more widely then he had in many weeks and this smile was more true then ever before. But as he stepped toward another of the wounded he felt a great pulse in the bond, something was changing this time there wasn't any pain as the bond struggled to expand and grow. No, it felt more like a door had suddenly been revealed to him and he had stepped through somehow without knowing.
That was when he saw Lin approaching along with the others and Captain Harrix, Lin spoke quietly to him through the bond and he turned back to the Dragonsingers. His smile hadn't faded but he was at least respectful enough not to suddenly run off again. As his thoughts of running off to help surfaced Lin gave a humorous rumble and smiled at him as she nudged Min's shoulder.
Min looked to the riders and bowed his head, followed by a Heartlander salute. Palm flat against his elven chainmail, over his heart as he spoke. "Merry meet! I am Min Bein'Meleth Rámalóce and this is Lindórievórea my boon companion, it is very much our pleasure to meet you. Thank you for bringing these wounded to us and for your great efforts! It would please us greatly to know each of you so we may thank you more personally."
Lin bowed her head to each of the ancients as she tried to avoid gaping at the great silver dragon again.