The North Beckons

[DruinsBane 240]

                                                       Shatter Mask's response.

                                                                (Please note he is very much insane..)

 

Eye's closed a calm smile laced upon his face, his eye's slowly open wide like two pockets of green blazing fire that is accompanied with a twisted crooked grin that stretches the limits of one would think the human could smile.

 

Voice rattles with joy laced with a soft giggle behind each word..

 

"So.. these fiends wish ta' dance hm.."

 

Raise his arm's outstretched above his head, palm's open wide a booming shrill laugh burst forth from his mouth.

 

"Gahahahahah! So they wish ta' cast the curtains down and begin a show.. Well! I say let it begin!"

 

violent joy filled twitches assault his body as he joyfully skips away..

[PtahWithin 1320]

((Now the real question is, does this have anything to do with the recent cryptic message sent to all magic users? :} ))

[Temp 2006]

Sitting in his office filling out petty report and taking note on construction resources, an obnoxious pounding echoes throughout Temp's home. He sets his quill back into it's inkwell and rises, moving to the steps. He descends the steps, shaking his head. The beating gets a bit louder, followed by shouting, "Oi! Temp! A bit o' news!"

 

Temp slides open his home's door, looking to fellow Roses, eyebrow raised. One of them leans in and begins to spew the story to Temp and for a brief moment, the entire group remains silent. The typically blank expression across his face slowly fading into a crooked smirk, Temp looks to the other Roses, "Are any o' ye' named Richard?" The group speaks amongst itself for a brief moment before responding with a generalized, "No."

 

Temp takes a step back and leans against his doorframe, shaking his head, "Good. No bear attacks then, but eh.. in all seriousness, we've quite a bit o' fun to tend to." He shoves off from the door and slaps the nearest Rose on the shoulder, grin forming across his face, "Damned good time to be a Rose, eh?"

[Dromui 755]

Azel tilts his head while studying the human.

 

"The way to defeat this threat is said, but the ignorance of a human ignores it for the sake of glory for his people."

 

Azel sighs and shakes his head.

 

"You could never be a Ranger little human."

[Silent™ 552]

Turns to the one telling the elf to stay out of it "You have no sense facing a foe with such power..."

 

Switches his gaze to the elf momentairly, then back, and begins to speak again "When facing such a strong foe, ignorance like yours is what gives the enemy strength over us. If we are not united together, we will crumble beneath them like a pile of dry leaves."

 

"No single race can possibly win alone. All the races exist because when we fight together, our strength is unmatched. If we did not posses this combined ability, we would have all perished in Aegis, and would not be standing here, facing the approach of a new evil."

[LaCabra (Soda) 1519]

A Halfling by the name of Bili Hollowmead, worn by a long journey in search of his dear wife Roxanne, walks raggedly along a quiet forest pathway. Accompanied only by his faithful hound, Barley, Bili trudges forward into the night, and slowly covers a small sum of miles. As the moon begins to rise, Bili's weariness grows on him. He approaches a clearing, what seems to be the edge of the forest he walks through. After he collects and lights a few logs on fire, Bili eats an unsatisfying ration of dried fruit and bread.

Nearly ready to fall asleep, he smokes a smidgen of pipeweed, collected from Lenfarthing before his journey began. As he smokes it, puffing out a few fluffy fumes of clouds issue from his mouth. His eye follows one little ring that he blew,raising slowly into the air. As his gaze is lifted higher, Bili sees far away in the Northern moonlight, a wall of forlorn and icy peaks. They give him the chills just looking at them, and he says, "I wish I were back 'ome, I do... There's probably Goblins or worse in them mountains..."

He eventually curls up and falls asleep next to Barley, most uncomfortable. Just before sunrise, when the sky is at its most gloomy point, a whimpering from Barley wakes the Halfling up. Scolding his dog for waking him so early, Bili's cross comments are drowned out by a deep roar many miles away. His thoughts pierced by the terrifying noise, Bili quickly dumps a small pot of water onto the coals from the few hours before, and then grabs Barley by the scruff of the neck. They both luckily escape the fear of the dragon, and hide in the forest until all has calmed down.

[TornadoWatch 364]

"I know. I'd rather be something which is actually important and matters in this world, and doesn't sound like a group of morons. No, I'd much rather be a Knight Commander and Grandsariant as I am today. Your ragtag group of fools does not even compare, and do not pretend like it does; it's insulting. Hail the Emperor." He chuckles at the elf condescendingly, shaking his head as he goes to carry the news back to Oren.

[Dromui 755]

Axel shrugs as he walks off.

 

"Say what you wish human, but in fifty years I will look back at this meeting and remember the face of the foolish human that doomed his people, who will most likely be laying down, dead in the dirt. Who put what is good, honor, justice, peace, and modesty behind him for the sake of his name going down as a general, or Grandsariant as you say. The hours I spend, recounting the tale of the foolish Grandsariant will be that of your lifespan."

[Evilbanana5757 154]

((But, there is one they fear. In their tongue, he is Dovahkiin...

DRAGONBORN))

((^ THIS!))

[Ryski 32]

Tybaro's sitting on top of some house in Salvus, when he notices Rolya, a beautiful albino falcon, soaring over to him. "Ah, there ye' are, girl. Was wonderin' where ye' went". Rolya lifts her left foot when Tybaro notices a note tied to it. He unties the note from her foot, and reads.

 

After he's done reading, he stands up

 

"Bad shite comin' from everywhere. Firs' I gotta pay 100 mina jus' te' sell in the city, an' now fawkin' dragons! Noh' sure which is worse, though..."

 

Tybaro leaps on to the next roof, making way to his secret rooftop entrance into his workshop. He finds his friends there, and addresses the issue.

[Silevon 497]

Thrasybulos slowly forms a frown, taking what the man says into serious thought.

[Bircalin 332]

"If only your ancestors could see you now..." Bircalin's voice breaks from his once silent lips, his words bearing a melodic tone, albeit with a sense of irony and humour around them. The creases of his lips bear thin lining, akin to wrinkles upon his seemingly young and lightly-bearded face. The edges of his ghostly and foggy eyes show a similar scarred effect of distorted and worn skin.

Hauntingly, Bircalin's mind begins to suffer under the seeping of memories of merciless embers spewing from the ungodly rock beneath him, the wailing of grown men as they sunk into the molten magma of the Nether, knowing they could never be saved by the monks. His speech carries a macabre tone to it as a result.
"Only when the bitter realisation of the sheer, unbound danger you face dawns upon you, will you see the truth in this man's words. The Elves need not a militaristic force, 'nor the Halflings or the Kha. -We- are the force. -We- bear the power to change, to prosper. The four brothers centuries ago hadn't halted Iblees' advances alone, they claimed victory as brothers." His arms remain folded neatly across his chest as his back too rests against the beaten bark of a decadent birch tree.

Finally, his speech lowers to an almost breathless level, tired and weary.
"Educate yourself on your roots, and learn from them, 'lest you truly wish to relive our horrific errors for yourself."

He ushers himself away from the tree and the group residing around it, purposefully leaving them to dwell on his words with only seconds to mutter their own responses, should they have any.
 

[Hanrahan 2983]

Former Adunian Lord Arnorian Elendil frowns, hearing the news cried aloud. "Such things are works that magicians bother with...But none the less, I anticipate my work to become quite the more...Complex soon."

 

 

"Bugger."

 

 

Arnorian chuckles to himself, picking up his longbow, Durendal, flicking his hood up, and setting out to the Ranges.

[Blundermore 2741]

*A note apon wings of White, reaches the Wizard of Hamaasadeen isle as he stirs and ponders in his sanctuary of solace. Reading over what has transgressed he walks over to his library to pull out an old book entitled "Of drakes and dragons" and flicks through it, noticing that the facts stated correlate with what has transpired. Placing the book as he shuffles back to his desk he sits, looking out of the northern window...*

"Drakes and dragons *breathes* to think we would be done with them in the collapse of Asulon. *takes a goblet of wine in hand as he sips from it.* they seem to ever become more of a pest as life goes on, steeling livestock and the likes. *he pulls a large stack of notes off the top of his shelve and places it on the desk ontop of the book. Flicking through it until he finds more and more notes on dragon anatomy and other facts* predatory as well...? *he squints his eyes* this isle will more than likely attract the attention of one of these creatures then... *he gets up from his study and heads towards the north window, resting on the lip of the window as he peers out far into the horizon* well, here's one piece of prey that will not be so easily ensnared *chuckles slightly to himself.* although I think I shall notify the other yir'sari... Perhaps maybe see if One is willing to travel more northwards... I can't be here to tend the tower and witch wood and then just go running off into the blue... Not... Since the tree was planted again. Yes... *he scratches his chin* I shall need to visit Aleryn Often more as well...*

*Turning back to his study, Blundermore sits down once again, tiding up some of the left over notes from dragons left sprawled across his desk until he stopped, as he came across a picture of older times, a large, festering creature unlike any dragon with flame and shadow surrounding it, horned and a wicked smile apon it's lips. Sending a chill up his very spine as he stared at it, feeling his very blood boil to it's sight. Until finally, he removes it from his sight and places it back in the large pile of notes*

"no, dragons are not as terrible as what has been, what is, and what has yet to pass... Let them come." *he says finally in a rasb.*

((made on iPod, sorry about the mistakes, auto correct doesn't really help))

[Shorsand 2006]

Saxon sighs, shaking his head "And the nations that will ultimately unite, will ultimately learn nothing from this experience.."