The Night Dragon's page

A handful of rocks and the remains of a fire and rodent on a stick hit the palace roof, along with a certain stunned fugitive.
Then the darkness changes shape and swirls down to take a different form.

Night passes briefly over the Great Forest, then is gone, returned home, taking its prize with it.

Then, as suddenly as it came, the darkness is gone, with a swirl and a rush, streaming away from the high mountains, and leaving a huge gash torn in the mountainside. Silver and platinum ores glint now, where the vast claws gouged out the rock.

Darkness sudden and shocking palls across the Eyrie. Strange and terrible things seem to crawl and lurk in the shadows. Vast talons flick out slashing into the flank of a mountain, sending rocks tumbling, bouncing, and slithering as the very bedrock trembles violently in an earthquake.

Night storms over the Place of the Winds, gathering in speed and fury, bound for the Eyrie.

Night, more magnificent and terrible than when it struck Lynora-Jill apart by accident during the battle, streams across the plains, and over the grove.
The trees of the grove shake, the fey in particular are struck by a strange terror, and queer* blue lights flicker and dance.
Then the night drives on.
* In the non-slang sense. Sad that times and language change such that I feel the need to add this explanatory footnote.

The Night Dragon ignores the distracting glow of a pair of the Daughters of the Morning, deeming it unlikely that such would harbour her quarry.
She concludes her search of the mountain chain and moves elsewhere.

Darkness ancient and terrible sweeps across the forest, searching back and forth, seeking to catch an elusive scent, before driving onwards and away.

The borders are secure. Everyone on the alert in case of an attack, the fey captain of the Queen's honour guard reports to her mistress, who is on the palace roof looking out over the trees.
Good, Nirellia turns to her. I have left this too long.
She takes to the air, swelling and spreading across the skies, and departs.

Once, an imperial darkness rises and spreads vast wings across the Wildwood, stirring uneasily, and peering towards the boundaries and the mortal world.

Kobold Cleaver appears to have used a cave in the Realm of Dreams to hold the Giggler???

Words -promises- are snarled in an ancient and terrible language, as the baleful stars gaze after the elves.
Then they blink, there is a swirl of noisome and choking air, and darkness disappears, back into the west, withdrawing to a point, and is gone.

Claws of terror and darkness reach out, smashing through and scattering the patterns rising from the fallen Lynora-Jill.
They snatch at the armies of dreams and nightmares screening the retreat of the pair of apparent elves, and within moments the dreams and nightmares are gone. A primeval screech of rage shakes the battlefield.

Somewhere in the darkness burn twin points of red- perhaps baleful stars, or the eyes of something very big...

Night rises in the west, sweeping up and over the battlefield, a canopy of vast wings, in which there are no moon and stars.

Dear Ask A Shoanti,
A very good friend of mine has recently been having trouble with a couple of the Linnorm Kings scoffing and disrespecting the myths about her. (She is a mythalogical dragon of the utmost power and might). This very good friend feels personally insulted, and is looking to loot and raze the towns of those arrogant Ulfen dunces, but would prefer that each and every last Ulfen suffer personally, rather than being killed in one general catastrophe.
Do you have any kinsmen who would be interested in asssisting a mythalogical dragon in going and cracking some Ulfen skulls?

Nirellia Dimonia.

PS
This really, honestly, truly, is about a good friend of mine, and not about me, honest.

Clouds of darkness flecked with points of light stream forth from the palace in the wildwood, pouring away in separate directions, as gongs brazenly sound and woodland drums pound. Any solitary traveller foolish enough to be near this place would have the chance to observe that they are bat-riding fey, passing out in score upon score of companies, each a dozen strong, in the the moment before half a dozen moonlight lances or a shower of star silver crossbow bolts took his life. For a moment, Nirellia can be seen upon the roof of the palace, amidst swirling clouds of the outriders of her honour guard, and then she is gone.

Please note whilst I may be first and foremost power here, I am NOT a deity; I am not omniscient, I do not know everything which goes on here - visitors whose intentions I have not become aware of by some other means can come and go in dozens of places without ever catching my attention unless they raise a real rumpus.
Having a near-infinite realm without absolute knowledge of it is a real pain. If you had any idea the bother it is trying to keep tabs on the rulers of even the most significant two hundred locations, you would appreciate why I occasionally treat myself to holidays to scheme, loot and pillage in other places.

Ahem. I suspect (playing the very old dragon card) I know the Hammer of Death's true name.
Or I could just slap him with the glove...
Although if you want to play swordsmen, I will quite happily stand back and watch.

At this point I feel that I should step in to explain a thing or two. Mr. Morton (known also as Epic Meepo) is acting under duress. He has promised me a role and prominence in Golarion 'so big that it will make the Whispering Tyrant cry like the metaphorical red headed stepchild that he actually is'. I have taken Aelfric Dreamslayer prisoner, and a number of Mr. Morton's other creations, and have threatened him with having to watch, helpless, as they are taken apart, piece by piece, by a number of the most terrifying critics on the internet, unless he exerts himself to get me duly recognised in the Golarion canon. RPGSuperstar will be a picnic by comparison.
Unfortunately, Mr. Morton's plan to write a module featuring me and see it sold early next year became derailed at the end of Round 3 of the 2009 RPGSuperstar contest.
He now appears to have resorted to kidnaping iconics in the hope of being able to channel the acclaim of the Paizo messageboard posters in helping him in his plan to see that I am duly recognised.
I would recommend that all Paizo Messageboard posters of good will lend Mr. Morton their support in his campaign, or else he will be forced to watch what happens when a true mistress of the arts of villainy and destruction gets to work.

If it helps to soothe the conscience of Messageboard posters, there is a completely unsubstantiated rumour (naturally, until he chooses to confirm or deny it) that Gulga Cench assisted Mr. Morton in his current scheme.

Night, ancient and terrible, born of the chaos of the extinguishing of the last true star many ages before, draws in suddenly like the furling of great wings about the grove, as power old when the world ash was but a sapling sweeps about in a maelstrom flurry. Lightning and primal terror flicker in the shadows for a moment, feeding on the scars and injuries of recent battles to mar the grove.
Then, the darkness is gone, as suddenly as it descended, leaving the grove seemingly fresher and more vibrant, various 'impurities' having been removed; but nature learns from such trials and tests, and perhaps the grove, whilst stronger, has lost much preparedness and lore of various foes and how to deal with them most effectively. Not unless it faces them again, will it be able to learn anew how best to deal with them.

Beams helpfully. I have a number of suggestions on that front....

Scribbling notes...
Interesting... Interesting.

I reserve the right to customise my Bone Servants to individual encounters. These are just 'see what you're made of' ones; there may be more of them to come at a later date, or I may try a different line.
Edit:
And no divinations won't say any more about where they came from than 'the laboratory of a powerful wizard/necromancer'; I'm a Lady of the Boards which means I'm allowed to have my secrets...

Oh dear. We're in for it aren't we :)

I have no idea what you're talking about... Oh.