Punish Those Who Gave Amnesty

[Samson Option 9652]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWsCHT5kT3s&list=PLD09E94563E869BF1

 

 

 

 

 

Bent upon two knees and facing the stone as will o' wisps danced about him, Haadi began his metamorphoses at the behest of a slack jawed Setherien. Bathing him in frostfire whilst an umbra cloaked him, Haadi felt wisps clasping wrought iron atop his head and body. Lastly, a wrought iron chain dress round around his waist, each links forming one by one from the wisps. Closing its maw, Vak'thuul ushered Harbinger Oblitus to stand on his feet. A different form, no mortal appearance, the Harbingers, Drey'gur, and Cultists all bowed in a procession. All save for one, becoming awkwardly noticeable leaning upon a wall behind the ceremony. The man, obviously given away, withdrew his sword feebly with sweat-beaded hands.

 

 

Swinging in a frenzy for the nearest cultist in the procession, the Scourge immediately surrounded him save for a hovering maw as Setherien stared him down. Unleashing a goldenrod mist and collecting his courage enough to invoke the name of Xan, Enas stood his ground. With a couple of clicks of its jaw, as if laughing, Setherien demanded to know where Enas had hailed from. Given an answer, Setherien lurched its neck back to inhale and unleash a curtain of molten ember and whistling flame atop Enas. The mist stood no challenge to Setherien's might, the drake pushing its maw open and sideways to catch Enas's feet and sling him rapidly into an adjacent mountain. Content with the answer of it and information gathered by War, Setherien clambored along the icy wall north of Greywynn and looked out.

Joined by a serpent of monolithic stone and slightly smaller, both drakes threw themselves with their hind legs forward and made their way south.

 

 

 

 

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Setherien and Malghourn started their path of desolation from the foothills of Abresi westward. Enas having informed him of Kralta giving him personal refuge and slaves bearing witness to the Disciple of Sol giving Golden Lances sanctuary. Bringing their wings close to them and soaring close above the canopies of the forest, jets of fire poured out from their maws to drown the ground below in immolation. The fields of old Kaedrin were laid waste as the drakes soared overhead, soldiers given temporary shade as their bodies blocked out the sun.

Planks of wood fly out into the Lake of the Conclave as the two drakes barrel in and begin lurching their necks about. A challenge from below is sounded as Jack of the Golden Lance, Ranger, Azogs, and others taunt at the soaring invaders. Bringing themselves near and between buildings in aerial displays, the drakes oblige their challengers with smoting gas and molten rock expelled from their maws and flung soldiers against rooftops and brought to drown in the lake below. The battle rages for days, with Jack of the Lance finally brought down and leaving Setherien to fly away satisfied. With another enslaved drake slain, the battle dissolves into skirmishes in different parts of the city until only Malghourn and a ghastly spirit harking the herald of how punishment has been doled out to those who harbor the Golden Lance.

 

"Let the waste laid this night upon the Conclave and the fields of old Kaedrin stand testament. If you quarter the Golden Lance, your people will be repressed whole and  your grandest accomplishments upon the land decimated. No mercy shown, no amnesty given."

 

 

 

 

((OOC: No. Conclave is not taken.))

[Swgrclan 2682]

"And so, a time after the stone serpent's release, he brought down an untameable fury; a might unmatched, though only that of the black wyrm's. F'r he was arisen to strike at the accursed; f'r he was arisen to strike at the light, a light that once inhabit'd his being, his essence as flame and spleen anon reduc'd to swirling cinders and poisonous ash.

His breath was that of the nether's black fumes; his fire of it's deepest pits whence the most unholy magma brew'd. It spreadt 'pon both flesh, plank and bark; soiling the work of mortality and condemning it to frost and rot." 

[The Fact Core 511]

((Dat shiny dragon picture, I like it))

[Wolf Druid Ouity 1461]

Enas boldly takes his crown as the only man to be killed by Setherin twice in under an hour. That awkward moment when 5 scourge and their god suddenly notice you. 

[Galendar 631]

A hooded figure watches the drakes fly away, having been too late to attempt to assist in stopping them.

"Then... It seems things won't be as easy anymore..."

[Elad™ 560]

"'"The day has come.. my arduous work has not been in vain."'" It shrieks out within the Frozen Tundra of the North.

 

  "'"Time to purge these mortals of their pathetic lives."'" Shrieks Oblitus, floating itself off into the distance.

[Bircalin 332]

Only the faint creak of a worn and beaten bow is heard from the Ranger's form as he lay at his back in the crimson grass, stained indignantly with warrior's blood spilled in defiance of the winged beasts. His torn coat flaps briskly amongst the wispy embers that flutter about him, smoke filtering into his clothing as all that is left to do is watch amongst the dead as Setherien makes his leave.

"This marks the beginning of the end." He mumbles confidently to himself, spluttering droplets of his own blood into the mouthpiece of his cold mask.

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.