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Captive Flame


Valannor
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[!] A missive would find itself nailed to the signposts around the Atoll Grove, and the draconic territory of Nahldroth.

 

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In the august mercy of the Embered, the individual known as the Flaming Eye, Leader of the Nephilim, has been taken into our caring custody. Dragonkind and its supporters have a saint’s hour to retrieve him - a price shall be paid for this, and the stars will shine with a new constellation this night should it not be paid. 

 

The Embered do not forget. Non Draco sit mihi dux; no Dragon shall be our lord. You know where to find us, Nephilim. 

 

Salvation is our Liturgy.

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Dame Viktoriya blinks. "... What? ... FaechkHope it isn' Tobias or Avaeramos."

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"You are moved by your emotions." The Third Eye had spoken with it's voice of trickling fire and gold.

 

And the more he said it, the more they pressed for his death. In their heads - they did

not hold a foe to bargain with, they held a vermin whos momentary destruction would bring them momentary joy. 

 

Like some addiction.

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"Didn't they let their leader go? Now they are raffling off captives what is this? Glory? Faith? I thought paladins where the defenders against dragonkin, not the auctioneers." spoke the aged Tobias with a grumble.

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8 minutes ago, Jentos said:
"You are moved by your emotions." The Third Eye told them.
And the more he said it, the more they pressed for his death. In their heads - they did
not hold a foe to bargain with, they held a vermin whos momentary destruction would bring them momentary joy. 
Like some addiction.

Hillith held one purpose in this realm; to rid of the vermin which wormed within the fertile soil of it. Thus, she was swift in action and word to ensure that the philosophical lies would not taint any of her blessed Order. Satisfaction crossing her complexion as she stared bitterly to the beheading of the cursed flame. 

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"Who is the beast? Our brother, whose word was his weapon -- whose very essence opposed him to kneel with his lessers, yet he did? Or the hunters of self-imposed righteousness, blinded by emotion, if their addiction is the sole greed of wearing our hide as a toy? What is Order, if it refuses rationality, and succumbs to instict and desire?"

 

"The beast, who's leader did not afford the very own clemency of thought and discussion imparted by our brother, when once entrapped in great depth of Tor'Azdroth." A thing wondered.

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Acrid vapors curled and smoked from dark and noisome pools. The sulfurous reek of them hung stifling in the still air. Due south, the mountain-walls of the Firelands loomed like a black bar of rugged clouds floating above a dangerous fog-bound sea. Far away from where the treachery had unfolded, the Maker and Master of the slain servant rested idle. A furnace of great power was he, Azdromoth, the Arch-Drakaar, who suffered no rival and laughed at flattery, biding its time, secure in its pride and its immeasurable strength.

 

A light went out in the vast chamber within which it rested -- a quick death and the stifling of a flame. When it was relit, the fell light it produced would shine on Sunbreak.

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A child o’ Azdromoth looked out to the Heralds o’ His with the missive clenched within his ashen grasp.  “The fate of Sunbreak and its craven sunlit cult has been foreordained. . . From ash we were born, to ash we return. . . And return them to ash I shall do.”

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Remon looks over the paper, giggling. There I was thinking I could rely on paladins to get rid of Azdromoth for me. Judging by this, this may not be the case. He writes three birds, sending them off, looking to the volcanoes nearby with a little sigh. Dragons. A shame that the best one's Azdromoth.. but we make do with what we have. And with that, he set off at a light walk towards the volcanoes, resolving something to himself!

Edited by satinkira
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