May No Dragon Be Our Lord | To Defy The Arch-Drakaar

[Valannor 6345]

 

[!] The Fallen Fortress of Sunbreak under siege by the forces of the Urguani Engineer Corps, Order of the Golden Lion, Nevaehlen Gladeguard and the valorant Lectorate of Owyn in the year 1873. 

Spoiler

 

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Twelve years in the making, the time had finally come. The forces of Descendantkind would take their stand against the blight that now stained the mountains of Urguan’s sons - that which had sundered the sanctity of the fortress that had once crowned the pearlescent peaks and pierced the sky. Weapons of war and artifacts of power beyond reproach were accrued, men and women bade goodbye to sons and daughters as the heart of mountain churned and roared; nature shrieked and howled like northern gale in perditious pain as the machine was awoken - Yemekar’s Absolution, the answer of the Dwedmar to the question of the dragonkin which now plagued the realm. The armies of the ironclad alliance of men, dwarf, and elf assembled within the belly of the beast, bursting free from the mountain in a bellow of cannonfire, rocking within the metal chassis as they were ferried to the killing fields. Soon, then, did talons of steel dig into the Drakeblight, and the gathered soldiery departed their monstrosity of smoke and steam; valiant Gladeguard, the courageous Lectorate of Owyn, and the indomitable and ever-intrepid Order of the Golden Lion following the wake of the Urguani Legion. A cursed bell soon tolled above - and the battle had begun. 

 

Immediately, the Gladeguard would march forth without fear of what lay ahead, ascending the mountain to render inert the shrine which heralded their doom, facing off against two titanic soldiers of the Titan - one bearing a bow of lava, and another, a whip of magma, anathema to the Aspect’s servants. Ever still did they oppose the beasts, throwing their all into taking every inch of ground, ducking ‘twixt spire and hill to evade the gouts of deadly dragonsflame that sought to seal their demise. However, a threat soon rose - a great beast tore itself from the earth, a leviathan Drakaarling, a fel warbeast of the Arch-Drakaar, sought to defend its master’s claim. The Yemekar’s Absolution would stride forth to cover the advance of their allies, the great cannons upon it striking in an unceasing barrage upon the Drakaarling, trading blows of rock and dragonflame for cold hard steel and hallowed munitions crafted for such a purpose - and soon, laying low the great beast with only minor damage sustained to her hull. The Lectorate & Golden Lion surged like a great tide upon the armies of the Titan, the men of Owyn cleaving through infantry with blade and bomb, challenging their commander, while the Paladins of Xan kept the attention of a much smaller warbeast; Ruinmaw, a reptilian horror much akin to the forests of Vectra and its Scaleback inhabitants. Stalwart, the Paladins, led by their Keepers, would bring the beast low - the Keeper Alatariel being swept from the fight nigh-immediately, as Ruinmaw sent her careening into the hull of Yemekar’s Absolution, while the Commander Aer’dir and Keeper Nikolai led their comrades to cut the creature down with frost and blessed armaments. Having not heard from their Nevaehlen allies, the assembled forces pushed onwards, making to rend the walls of fallen Sunbreak asunder in a flurry of cannonfire, sending them tumbling down to the ground below and allowing them to advance.

 

 

Spoiler

Art by Daengie!

 

 

Their task was clear, once they’d made their way inside - for the fortress was too large, and time was too short, to remain as one cohesive unit. Splitting themselves throughout the keep, the Order, Lectorate, and Legion all took to securing the fortress as a whole, corralled by wards of scathing dragonfire - the Lectorate with Archlector Danzen and Keeper Alatariel finding themselves in the chantry hall, while the Legion and the rest of the Order, led by Feanor Sylvaeri, Jorvin Starbreaker, Aer’dir and Nikolai Josef were to secure the burnt-down remnants of the library. In the chancery hall below, the profaned altars rose to oppose the Lectors, a corrupted Drakeflame Paladin puppeteering the testament of Xan and aiming to lay low the valorant Aelia and Trevor in a burst of dragonflame translocation - stopped short by the spear of Alatariel, and the blasting potion of Trevor sending its brain matter to paint the walls. Danzen, Evaristus, and Kato Oijin slaughtered the risen statues with impunity, unyielding in the face of such foes. 

 

Above, the host of Stone and Light met the Heraldsire and Dragonkin Captain, and engaged them in pitched combat - weaving between pillars of flame conjured by the empowered Herald, and ducking in and out of the iron grasp of the Captain, finding themselves on the backfoot until finally the Captain was laid low; the battered and injured forces taking their rage out upon the Heraldsire, butchering him like the swine he was. It was then that a terrible force quaked the earth - and from a rent in the air emerged the Titan’s favored; Azdradal, Castellan of Fire, Flame of Wrath & Regret. The advent of this leviathan, the size of Sunbreak itself, would nearly rout the forces of mortality with his presence alone - breaking the keep apart with a word, and nearly slaying all who had been gathered in a wave of greater dragonflame. Empowered by the corrupted Bell of Helios, and their own magicks weakened by the shrine beyond, all had seemed lost; and then, the dawn broke.

 

The Gladeguard, through the great sacrifice of the Phoenix Druid Avius Csarathaire, had finally managed to fell the guardians of the All-Sight shrine - and by the hand of the Wolf Eonan, and the nearly-dead Eretria, the shrine was shattered, striking a mighty blow to Azdradal’s own power and drawing his attention from the forces of Light, Flame, and Stone. In a frenzied rush the servants of Light hurried off to the corrupted Helios, calling upon the power of the Hallowed Triad to cleanse the precious artifact of the malignant presence it had been tainted with. Prayers were spoken, the sacral sapphire mists of Order summoned, until finally Aer’dir, Warden of Helios, raised his mighty hammer - the corrupted ward over the sky turning into a hallowed sigil of golden radiance as Azdradal’s power was stripped from him, the Flame of Regret weakened as the bell was purified. Shakily, Azdradal attempted to strike a final blow to annihilate his foes, but was stopped short by a hallowed shell being shot from the Absolution, striking a mortal wound upon the Castellan and bringing him low - victory was at hand.

 

As the sun crept beyond the horizon overhead, and the eye of Order blazed down upon them all through that blessed glyph, the Keeper Alatariel raised her reliquary blade, Lux, and in unison with Feanor Sylvaeri, alongside their compatriots of the holy Lectorate, struck the heart of Azdradal - slaying the dread lieutenant once and for all as he cried out to the sky, praying for the Firstborn Azdromoth to save him from his demise. 

 

The day had been won, and with great sacrifice. So was spoken by all that day, as they stared upon the carcass of the beast;

 

“May No Dragon Be Our Lord!”

 

 

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[!] Delivered by clockwork machine to the dread spire of Azdromoth in the far north, was a letter scribed to him alone, and for his eyes only - the machine critter scurrying off into the magma after, so as to betray no trace of its existence. 
 

Spoiler

 

Greetings unto ye, Firstborn of Dragons, Titan of the world - Arch-drakaar Azdromoth.

 

You have heard His voice upon the wind. Your servants lay dead beneath our feet. Even in retribution for the flaming eye, you have failed. Routed, your children are sent to flee from every corner of the realm, to find no solace from the vinland shores of the Kharasi to the far northern realms of the Crow. Hiding like rats, afraid of the blazing sun that looms above. The tragedy of Amaethea has been avenged, the desolation of Sunbreak repaid in kind - your prized servant made to scream your name to the smog-choked skies, before I plunged my blade into his ashen heart. This was no act of divinity, no miracle of the gods above - but the essence of that which you sought to extinguish rose to rebuke your armies, and drive you from these shores as you would have driven them from existence. Mere mortals not only stood against the shadow of your wings, but they drove you back. It makes me wonder… Are you truly as strong as you would lead your children to believe? 

 

I believe you a coward, Firstborn of Dragur. A puppeteer lurking in the darkness, afraid to face the light of day and to face your betters. Quiet, creeping, insidious - you are akin to a shadow, ensnaring the hearts of men as lesser as yourself, with promises of power and vainglory to escape the curse of your master. I pity them, truly, that they would fall prey to your lies. You flee persecution, and in your wake, usher disaster and calamity of proportion unseen ‘afore. A poisonous vermin, a blight upon this world, a rat. This is all you are, in truth. 

 

I remember well, twelve years ago, when you had sent the Flame of Regret to kill me for the plight of the flaming eye. And yet, here I stand, sanctified in the ashes of my fallen fortress - and I can do naught but laugh, for even with an army at your beck and call, and the shapeshifting agents that linger in every corner of society, you have failed to extinguish that lone light. I am no dragon, I do not bear the gift of immortality; I lack your scales of adamant stone, and your fangs as large as the Wickwald trees. But from nothing I have forged scales of hallowed steel, and my fangs shine in sapphire; And I find you lacking. 

 

I wonder; would you dare to face me in the day, Serpent? A mere mortal, who has undone your machinations and led the Light to swell against you in defiance? Will you take this challenge, or flee back into the caverns of your hoard like the coward you really are? The gauntlet is thrown, the die is cast, and I await the day you choose to prove your strength. 

 

Remember my name well, Dread Wyrm. For it shall be the last thing to ever leave your forked tongue. 

 

Tarathiel Asul’onn.

 

 

 

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Spoiler

From the bottom of my heart, a special thanks goes out to Malaise, Minth, Carol, and all of those who have helped make this eventline possible thus far - along with Jentos for instigating it. It has provoked some of the greatest RP I have seen in my time on this server, and has been truly transformative not just for the Paladin community, but for all involved in the roleplay thus far, like the Kingdom of Urguan, the Lectors, the Vale, and all of our other allies and supporters who have spent the last few months helping us get through it all. It has had its ups and downs, for sure, but I would do it all over again if it meant telling the same stories and living the same moments that Matt has made possible for us all. There is nothing I can say that will ever truly encapsulate how thankful we all are, for having been able to experience this story that Malaise has helped us all tell, alongside SquakHawk's own little additions and flairs. 

 

I can't wait to see what the end of it all is going to look like. Thank you, Malaise. For all of it.

 

[Evonpire 1819]

"Non Draco Sit Mihi Dux, Ordo Vult." The Bellwarden muttered, reading the missive from shattered remnants of the Almenodrim's home.

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 11575]

One particular Lector Engineer has a brain blast in the workshop after the events that unfolded. Inspired by the war machine he fought on the ground beside to protect, he makes plans for his order's own in the near future.

[xMuted 2459]

Sigrun Ireheart was still salty he wasnt allowed to cram fifty legionnaires into the great machine.

[DahStalker 2846]

A blonde haired Paladin continued her training in realms elsewhere, pausing only briefly upon feeling a disturbance lifted from the land of Almaris.

Edited May 24, 2022 by DahStalker

[twinwolf1 193]

A enraged dwarven paladin grumbles salvaging her hallowed golem lab
"Ah swear ahm gonna grudge tha lizard inta teh next thousand years fer messin with my shite" she said beginning to write her own grudge letter to the big lizard

[Elite Snipes 3542]

Bakir smiled as he heard the Paladins reclaim their home "Leave none alive. The servants of Azdromoth will soon fear the retribution of the dwarves, this is the first step."

[ThumperJack 923]

Eonan Norvayn quietly washed the blood and scored ash from his armor, mere days after the events at Sunbreak. He had been leading the warriors of the Vale for years now and the stench was nothing new to him, yet the loss he felt in his heart would never grow old. Nor would the experience of war become familiar.

 

Habit saved him from dwelling on such things and duty offered a path to forget, for a while, at least. For the moment, he was content with the blow struck and the hearts that beat still. His thoughts would heal just as his body would, in time. Narnsae ito iyl.  

[King_Kunuk 888]

Spoiler

highly good mecha art and good post!

 

[Jentos 6839]

"Beautifully won, Tarathiel."

 

A thing of black hide clapped its hands, feet deep in a great bed of ash, speaking to none but to the statues of stone about him.

 

"Strenght will always defeat the logic of words where they fail to move. And for this lesson, you have my thanks."

 

Admitted the serpentine thing, dipping its head and casting a hand deep into the ash, clutching. 

[Norgeth 1112]

Morul: The Hermit, Restrainer of Azdradal simply nodded from inside his secure home, a grin from under his mask, that sorcerer dwed letting out a maddened chuckle "Heh... Trueleh ah interestin' day, yet teh true powah o' Vuur'dor's Flame es yet toh beh beheld!" he'd state, once more delving deep into knowledge forbidden and tomes unknown...

[MRCHENN 3663]

"May no dragon be our lord, yet, we will equivocally submit to the bidding and machination of our Aengulic overlord." A creature muses.

[SteppeNomad 1552]

*A High-Elf Labourer, Hefter of Big Beams, who sweat and toiled along Bortu and Urukhiim brothers, smiles brightly hearing the headline! He replies! "May our weapons bite true and drive the serpents from our isles! May they not subvert our great societies!"

[mmat 7461]

Avius probably would have smiled. He didn't, however. Because he was, in fact, dead.

[Reece Nolan 636]

     Angr would be working away at the stonemill, watching as his fellow dwedmar stormed the fallen Sunbreak Keep from so far away, as evident by the thick billowing of smoke and smog followed by the rumbling of the earth. He simply shaped clay, cut stone and laid grout as he moved about the obliterated gate, a slight smile on his face as he did what he loved, working. "Meh kin 'r likeleh maken d'eir bloodlines proud oot t'ere. Ahs much as ah woul lov tae 'av joined t'em, weh each 'av ah part tae play." He comments to himself, laying down the next brick in place and smearing the grout down with his gloved fingers to ensure a nice smooth surface in-between. He muses to himself for a moment, thinking back to Hana's words on order, on the balance necessary in this life. "Jus' as d'ey need fightahs tenden tu da battlfron', d'ey need meh tae tend tu our citeh's wounds... Ah see now..."