[IC] The Hand of Fate

[Cuddle Pot]

In the very epicenter of Theros, lies the resting place of the most violent and powerful tyrant the world had ever know. Krallesh, the black wing of oblivion. In the center of his final monument of rot, The Bog of black hearts, stood a cottage. And traveling to this cottage was one who sought to outdo the terror that was Krallesh, Khan Scazzven. As he was known in the cards, the shadowed conqueror.

The swamp was filled with all manner of terrible, and wretched monsters who's souls were as depraved as the environment that surrounded them. They all laid low and whimpered as the Conqueror passed. His self imposed crusade of conquest had gone unchallenged for years. No one on Theros could halt him or his armies... he hoped. For weeks a nervousness had plagued the Khan. His riches were too high, his armies too powerful, his foes too weak. Nothing was ever ment to go this smoothly for so long, to Scazzven and the people of the tundra this was a harsh rule of life.

So he set out for answers. Of his war across Theros, he never intended to enter Krallesh's grave. The Khan fears not death or defeat, no. All of the fear in his heart was reserved for the Dragon lord Krallesh. Yet he needed answers, and for his victory he would brave his fears.

As he enters the center of Black Heart bog, no the center of Theros itself, he sees the cottage the only source of light and fire for miles. He walks up to the door, hand on the hilt of his sword and a spell on his lips just in case. He throws open the door and sitting at a simple wooden table, is a wizened old woman petting a hairless cat curled up in her lap. She speaks in a voice as old and cracked as dried leather, "The cards make you out shorter, and they don't catch your eyes, what a peculiar color."

"You were expecting me then." Scazzven answered. He spoke not as a question, but as a simple statement of facts. "If I couldn't see you coming, then I would be completely useless to you wouldn't I?" "Then you know my purpose. You will give me my answers then." She scoffed at this. "Not happily. Still I have seen this meeting go thousands of ways. In none of them do I seem to win. Most I wind up helping you anyways. So let's make this painless shall we?" Scazzven nodded and took the seat across from the oracle.

He then asked his first question of the night, "Truly oracle of Black Heart, is there any force in all the world who can defeat me and my forces?" She takes a deep breath before answering. "Non alone. Yet when I hold several cards in my hand... they feel warm while your card grows cold." He leans forward rapt with attention. "Who are they?"

She spreads seven large tarot cards across the table, and starts flipping them over naming them off. The first features An ominous black mass with eyes of fire, there is an empty area where the heart belongs, it floats above it surrounded by a golden halo. "The Innocent Devil" the next card is flipped revealing an armored figure traveling a road, in tow are bound criminals, and in the background a village burns. "The Wandering Knight" Next one is turned and underneath is the mural of a beautiful forest glade, there are animals one would expect to see in such an environment, they are all bowing to a huge set of primal looking eyes staring out of the shadows. "The Great Beast" Fourth depicts a young girl amid a find of flowers they are turned towards her as if listening to her secrets, there is no color at all to the picture only white and black. "The Blind Sorcerer" She then turns a card featuring a massive tome hovering over a blue sea, it is open to the Sun which is shown as a blazing eye. "The Bright Eyed Scholar" Nearing the end of the table she flips the sixth card, showing the night sky clear of all clouds and blazing with stars, yet there is a black emptiness in the center, a figure stands below this scene blindfolded with a look of terror. "The Star Seeker" She turns the final card with the image of a weeping gray skinned man he is surrounded by trees with Vershult writing, they are healthy and in full bloom, yet there is no soil, only a sea of skulls. "The Silent Martyr" there is silence in the room.

She is the first to break it, "If these men and women were to gather, then their strength and powers could be used to defeat you and your army." He asks her, "Who are they? How will they fight me?" "I do not have anymore answers for you! You'll have to figure that out yourself, as will they I suspect. Now be off with you I grow weary of dooming the world." Scazzven stands up with a huff. "Know this old woman nothing is truly fixed! I will find and vanquish these strangers! I will have my victory!" And with that he left her cottage to go make preparations for his war.

Hours later the old woman can be heard muttering an incantation. Upon it's completion her cat lept from her lap and let out a pained hiss. He began a painful transformation as he grew and stretched until an adult man stood in the cottage. He was dark haired with a tan one would expect from a sailor. His face was almond shaped and his eyes were two colors, one a bright green the other a blazing gold. He stretched and loudly complained in a lifting accented voice, "Well that's is always unpleasant! Could you at least warn me before you do that?" The woman ordered him, "Kufue, I swear you like being a cat far more than as a man!" He responded, "Well... you never make me do anything when i'm like that. And when your nervous you scratch behind my ears, which is truly quite enjoyable." "And you shut up for a change! Pay attention thief!" The old crone snapped back. "You saw what I saw! You know that man is more than capable of destroying this entire world. This hand of cards are all we have to prevent that. Years ago you made the fool mistake of stealing from me! You saw the cards, find them whoever they are and bring them here! Do this and I will count your debt repaid. Now get vermin we have work to do!"

A short time later Kufue had packed a bag and set out the door. The die had been cast, and the hand of fate had been played.

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

A tremendous paw, so grand in scale that it could firmly engulf the head of man, caressed the surface of a small pool of water, rounding about it in a manner that proved gentle in a way unlike any other. Faint ripples drifted across its cool, clear surface, disturbed by nothing but the earthy toned pelt that so faintly contacted it, yet within that same moment its surface grew still. So still in fact, that even the lightness of the breeze that had found its way among the dense, full forest, did not spoil it. For all its clarity there shifted faint images within, those that did not belong to the shadows of the pine canopy above. They were blurry, indistinct - a waking dream that filled the mind of the observer with imagination, wonder and prophesy.

The eyes the pool poured its visions into from its shallow depths seemed to shimmered with a light of their own, almost reflecting the images they bore witness to. They were keen, animal things, bred and born not of mortal doings but of some other order. However, for all the greatness within their vivid gold, they saw things of terrible importance; murmurs of events beyond, both in time and place. They hung upon the images, drinking them with primal understanding. These figures, these shadows in the darkness, almost appeared to drown out the perfection of the spring before the massive paws.

They moved with fell purpose, wandering some place that was lost, desolate, but as they moved, the others departed while the darkness itself coalesced into a lone figure that slogged itself through a sea of sorrows and old violence.

It was unfamiliar, all of it, but the on looking eyes knew this ill omen, choosing only to watch on as the distinctive silhouette disappeared into the thickest of shrouds. A lone place of emptiness, concealed from even the eyes of nature itself, was this man's goal and just as soon as he met to it, the unearthly still water shuddered. Its flat surface moved but once, ajar with a lone ripple, and soon dispersed all sight from within the waters. Each great paw tensed upon the pure, fresh, damp soil that surrounded the small spring and the forest remained quiet instead of filled with the sounds of all those it belonged to. This absence was not by choice, but product of the vision of this man - this figure of shadows - that turned aside old evils and sought out something forgotten, something forbidden.

Minutes perhaps passed as the still air was filled with contemplative musing and then the magic faded away, nature again filling the arboreal world about in faint, ambient chatter once more.

"You stir my sight."

The mighty paw reached forward again, a deadly talon unsheathed met with the water's surface, roiling it about slowly in a carefully traced circular motion. The ambiance fell silent at the words - the chatter of distant birds and the stirring of faint creatures came to an abrupt halt.

"Why now, shadow? What is it that you see that you did not before?"

The touch struck this time in the center and the water regained its absolute stillness. Yet, nothing accompanied the motionless surface that was the crystal spring among the rich earth around it. The golden eyes swept through it, seeing nothing more this time than reflection - great jaws wider than the chest of even behemoth men, flanked by tremendous ivory fangs. The mirror remained still, as did the observer, the two almost determined to compete as to whose will would break, yet neither did.

"So..." The ebon flesh of the jowls moved, "We have at last seen one another then."

A paw outstretched once more, this time moving above the surface both soil and water, palm spread wide in a slow arc with each commanding digit spread wide. From the center of the liquid at its depths, bubbles surfaced and the water began to babble; a small, tender young stream forming from it and starting down the earthen ruts, following the most simple of paths. In moments the scrying waters grew into a natural spring, alit with nourishing glint in the mixture of soft sun rays and shadows of ancient trees' canopies.

The form roused itself, standing without a word further, and the world at the mere beck of its richly furred head returned to its former sound.

For all of its sight beyond that which mere living eyes could take in, it knew not who or what it was it witnessed. It knew only that its prey, elusive as it had been, had at last made itself seen. A man, or a shadow of one, was that which had brought this vision to the forefront where so many others sights had failed; a single hand at last dealt the cards of fate to be played. But it all explained so little - so little in fact, that as the noble animal turned away from the stream whose connection it had borrowed, it still knew truly nothing of what was to be done.

But now? Now at last there was a figure to this formless mass and proof that even its power faltered slightly; in the blink of an eye, it hesitated for but one moment of prolonged silence. It, as with anything else, now proved it was capable of weakness where prior it was impenetrable.

Padding away, each stride landing softly upon the moist pine litter and green fern, the legend of the wild world reflected upon what was to come next...

[Turbowraith]

Dusk approached. A young woman walked home, accompanied by her grandfather. They were returning to their village, after a short fishing trip to a nearby river. "Thank you so much, my dear. These old bones of mine couldn't bear lifting two of these." Wheezed the old man while struggling to balance a tall basket full of all sorts of fish in his arms. Today was a good day. Their catch was extraordinary. The Khan may have taken their crops, but the Kingdom still provided, any way it could. The old man smiled behind a thick white moustache. "Don't you mention it. After all, it was you who did all the work today." The girl giggled. Delivering a sideways glance, the man's face lit up with another smile, this time one he could not conceal. "We'll make an angler out of you yet!" Said he. "After all, it's in the family."

The girl opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could, a figure leapt from a nearby bush, tackling her and pinning her to the ground. The old man dropped his basket and ran to her aid, but before he could reach his granddaughter, he felt an arm around his neck, and a blade's tip against his back. Two more thugs emerged from the shadows, brandishing bucklers and axes. The bandit constraining the girl spoke. "Them's got but fishes, boss! Nothing else on 'er." The girl grunted and struggled spewing profanity at her assailants, knowing that screaming for aid would mean their death. She looked to her grandfather, sweating and now on his knees. Behind him stood a man of great stature, wielding a rather impressive sword. "Bah! Should've thought so. Damn peasants don't even have the decency of carrying a coin purse. The chief's voice, his accent was not the same as the ones of his cronies. It did not belie his origin. "We kill them. Now." He gave one of his men the evil eye. "And don't you do to her what you do to others. These ones are close to their homes and their screams will be heard." The chief raised his blade as the old man's eyes widened in terror. "Please, I beg of you. Just let the girl go. She won't say a word. We don't even know where your camp is-"

An ear-piercing clang was heard as the chief's blade clashed against another. The figure wielding it was using but one hand, yet the chief caught only a glimpse of it before an armored fist crashed against his face, shattering his nose. It moved, swifter than any fighter hoped to move, towards the one holding down the girl. A kick in the chest sent him flying a few feet back, reeling in pain, and a blade in the eye ended his misery. The hooded creature slowly turned around to face the other two bandits. The old man crawled towards his granddaughter, and they embraced. The thugs raised their shields, wondering how suddenly and from where could such a thing appear. A liquid dripped down one's britches. The figure slightly crouched, and let himself loose upon them. In a blink of an eye, two shields were split, one head was cleaved, and one throat was slit. He walked over the still warm bodies and towards the chief.

"I have peered into your heart, noble." He stomped on the man's shin, causing it to snap. The chief let loose a blood-curdling scream. I have peered into your underlings' hearts. They have no room for mercy. Your minions kill for gold. You kill for its' own reward. You are all guilty."

The young woman heard a sickening sound and raised her tear-stained head. She saw an armored man standing a few steps away examining them, cloak flailing wildly in the wind. Panic gave way to a grave realization in the old man's mind as the girl froze in terror. "Granfather, his eyes..." The creature turned around, shook the blood off his blade, and taking heavy steps, vanished into the wilderness. "We're safe. Speak not of it, my dear." He helped his granddaughter up and picked up the baskets, along with what remained from their contents.

"Speak not of it..."

[Ojo chan 42]

A lone human girl sat on a boulder partly coverd with moss. A pound was found on the edge of the boulder and rays of sunlight broke through the roof of leaves acient old oak trees had created. The girl played a flute, her tunes swaying with the winds, her song carried away into the distance. Around the girl wildlife had gaterd, and even some fae were listening to her tunes. It was such a beautifull place, almost heavenly.
Such a shame, that the girl who created this lovely inmage couldn't see it herself. The girl was blind, her white pupils stared into nothingness, if she had them open. She had dark brown hair that reached her lower back, a typical elven headpiece adorned her forhead, and her dress whas as green as the grass you walked on.

The girl tapped her foot on the boulder and she smiled.

She 'saw' the Fae move on the tune of her music, the animals resting and some of the younglings of that year playing around. She decided to speed up her tune a bit more and slided of the boulder joining the younglings. They danced and played until a fae upproaced the girl with the flute.
He tugged her sleeve started to speak.

''Sabriye, help us. Our little brother has been caught in a trap made by human hands. Please help us get him out of there'' He spoke and pulled her sleeve into the direction he wanted her to go. Sabriye, as the girls name was kneeled down and searched with her hands for the head of the little Fae. Once she found it she patted it and said.

''ofcourse little one'' she said and searched for her staff. Without it 'seeing' was very difficult for her for she had to have either her naked feet or hand on the ground. She tapped her hand on the ground and 'saw' her staff. She crawled towards it and stood up. The fae leaded the way towards the trap, where his brother was. It was just outside the borders of the elven kingdom wich made Sabriye sigh.
''why did you went outside the borders little one?'' She said as she approached the fae caught in the trap.
''we were curious what humans are like'' He awnserd her honestly. Sabriye could sympathize with him, after all she was human but she has never met another one. She has always been surrounded by elves and been forbidden to ever leave the Solar Woods.

The trap that had caught the fae was the kind that Sabriye really hated. This kind of trap would immobilze you once it shut close hurting the leg that triggerd the trap. Sabriye put her hands on the trap and tried to push it open, but she failed.

All of the sudden Sabriye's ears twitched and she grabbed her staff swinging backwards.

'' Sabriye, it's me'' a famillar voice said. It was her adoptive brother, Iloris. He was a pure elven noble, with hair as brown as wood and green eye's that could see everything.

''brother, great timing. you can open this trap right? this poor fae has been caught in it and I wish to heal him'' Sabriye asked of him fully knowing he would scold her later on for having wandered into human terrain. Iloris sighed and did as he was asked. Once the fae was free Sabriye went towards him and held her hand above his wounded leg.

''envinyanta'' she chanted, and the wound healed itself.
''thank you very much'' both the fae said and they ran of back into the forest.

''Sabriye, why did you wander off. Mother is worried sick, you are her only daughter please think of her a bit more'' Iloris complained while he helped his little sister stand up.

''I’m sorry brother. I just wanted to go out and play a bit'' Sabriye said apologetic.

‘’and for that you left the borders of our kindom. You know how dangerous humans can be’’ Iloris said.
‘’I am one of them’’ Sabriye said walking away. She just wanted to be a bit more free, she wasn’t as helpless as they deemed her to be. She could ‘see’ in her own way, she had her magic.
‘’Sabriye!’’ Iloris called and he went after her.
‘’I am sorry, it’s just that….’’

''I know, I am blind, but not helpless brother’’ She said continuing her walk. Iloris walked besides her in silcence. He looked at her and smiled.
‘’lets go back, Sabriye’’ he said taking her by the arm.
Sabriye pouted and followd her brother, back to the elven city of Solar.

[DarkwolfX37]

In the center of a library stood a young human girl. Officially only there on visit, the whole town and it's many repeat visitors were fully aware that she, for all intents and purposes, lived there. The calendar on the nearby wall was marked with dates that she needed to remember, used with permission from its owner, and showed an "X" four days from now. But that day was far from the girl's mind at the moment.

"I still don't get this!" she examined as she examined the table before her once again. "How are these random results of shuffling supposed to predict anything!? They're cards, you may as well be staring at a ball for all the good it'll do!" She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself from her exasperated state. Books that speak on the subject were vague at best and the ramblings of the insane at worst, whereas personal accounts of the effectiveness of such things ranged from complete satisfaction to wastes of time.

A teacher, that's what she needs. Someone with a proven record to examine and steal secrets of the art from. Someone who could explain why her experiments were so consistently inconsistent. Perhaps she was using incorrect materials? She followed the instructions she had read to the letter, but incorrect information is abound in this subject.

"Alright, focus time." the girl named Kirhi slapped herself lightly and took out a large piece of paper and a quill, setting to work writing down the theories that came to mind. "Surely there's a way to affect the outcome without using magic... But it would be too easy to pull a simple trick..." She sighed. Fortune telling, like it's cousin stage magic, is such a pain.

[Mr Rage]

The putrid smell of sulfur and brimstone filled the nostrils of the young Elven girl. She could not be any more out of place. The pale haired, fair skinned child was brightly clothed in a dress of blue and white, while the surrounding terrain was desolate and broken mountains. Toxic steam vents opened and poured clouds of ash into the air so that there was little to no life, save for the volcano high above their heads. If Ein stood still long enough she could feel the vibrations of the living rock through her feet, it used to be unsettling to the girl, but she had grown used to it. Despite the bleak landscape she was cheery, after all, she was on the mountain again that Zeke was born from.

Zeke fit in with the scenery, even down to the spurts of flame that sometimes erupted in little jets around the gaps in his obsidian form. He lumbered along quietly, indifferent to being back at the Cradle.

The unlikely companions could be seen from a long distance, the black sheen of obsidian, and flash of blue and white, these were easy to spot from a long distance but it didn't matter, nobody was near to be a problem. Even if a bandit or monster of some sort did pop out from a hidden piece of the broken landscape, Ein wasn't afraid. Nobody could beat her Zeke.

It took a long time, but eventually the pair made it to their destination, a vent that led down to the active volcano flow below, it was too hot to enter without protection, it was as far as they dared to go. When last they were there Ein's Father had cast a protective spell on her, she tried to think of it to see if she could manage to pull it off, but the words didn't come to her, and very little of the words she remembered actually had any effect whats so ever. They sat in silence for a moment on the warm rocks near the vent. Swinging a pack around her back she took out a flagon and took a drink of warm water and took out a leaf wrapped piece of bread. She broke off a small chunk before putting the rest of the bread back and the flagon returned as well. She nibbled on the bread for a moment, the flavor returned her for a moment to her ancestral home.

She shook her head and pushed the image away. Nostalgia had no place in her life now. She had no home, and likely never would.

"Well Zeke," She said suddenly breaking the silence, the gravely sound of Zeke turning his massive frame to face her was the only response, "Lets head north, once we clear the cradle. I haven't been north yet."

A sound somewhere between a groan and the sound of a rock slide came from Zeke.

"I know it is dangerous, but we are running out of jobs in the southern towns and they are starting to remember me. I don't age like a human, they'll figure it out soon. I need to find somewhere else to find work. Besides, you'll protect me, wont you, Zeke?"

It wasn't a real question and Zeke didn't need to answer. Of course he would, that was his only purpose in life.

[Oraculum]

Though there was no cloud to obscure the sky, the night, undefied in its black dominion by anything beyond the pale luminescence of the stars, was as dark as any autumnal celestial pall might have warranted. On such a night, when even the most harmless shrub seems to harbour menaces of subtle danger, the forest, though by day it was no more than solemn with great antiquity, appeared more forbidding than a wind-battered mountain peak jutting over a barren wasteland. Its great oaks spread their mighty limbs at an awe-inducing height, casting vast and strange shadows in what little of the starry glow reached the soil. Their leaves whispered in a soft, warm breeze; muffled replies arose from the undergrowth, as though a host of conspirators were quietly gathering among the towering trees' roots.

Yet the lone figure which was slowly, yet steadily making its way through the woods seemed to pay no heed to this furtive exchange, nor to the oaks' looming shadows, nor to the gentle touch of the wind which made the ragged edges of its cloak sway in its wake. It forged ahead almost blindly, as though its mind were wandering far from the forest it was traversing, and perhaps from the world itself; an observer who might have been watching it from the circumstant shadows, however, would have been unable to determine whether this was effectively the case. Impenetrable in the best of lights, its garments presently made it almost indistinguishable from the blackness surrounding it; it was as though a living patch of night had woven itself into a vague shape and set about some purpose with the resolve of an elemental force. Anon, the rustle of fallen leaves beneath the traveller's feet grew slightly fainter, and soon it stepped from under the oaks' reaching branches into a small clearing of roughly circular shape. Now, though the best part of it remained akin to a living shadow, it was possible to distinguish certain of it features: the gnarled, almost claw-like hand firmly gripping a wanderer's staff; the bag slung near its chest which shook as though endowed with a life of its own; and the vague stirring of the veil before where its mouth might have been, which, though not accompanied by any sound, indicated that, whatever the being could have been, it was alive.

 Having moved a few steps into the glade, the figure stopped in its tracks. It remained still for some moments, as though listening intently; then it cast back its head and stood with its veiled features turned upwards, toward the stars. It stood thus for a few silent minutes, during which even the restless bag did not move. Then, lowering its gaze once again, it reached into its second repository and produced thence a small, leather-bound and somewhat worn volume. The figure turned a number of pages, seemingly seeking a particular passage. Having presumably found it, it bent over the book for some moments, then abruptly straightened itself and, casting forth its empty hand, exclaimed in a loud, yet hoarse and hollow voice: N'uraith yuulhieh vuul.

The soil at the centre of the clearing began to shimmer with a sinister, flickering light of a vaguely purple-bluish hue. This luminosity grew in height, reaching the size and faint shape of a bonfire; nor did it stop at that point, but blazed ever taller and brighter, until it gained the semblance of a radiant column reaching far into the night sky. Great tendrils of flame sprouted from its bulk, coiling in a dazzling spiral wherein was reflected the eternal, unfathomable game that was the growth of an universe...

And suddenly it was gone. Where the colossal apparition had stood not a single blade of grass bore any mark of its passing. The cloaked figure stood for a while, gazing at where it had been; then returned the book into its bag and, casting a final glance at the stars that had impassively witnessed its doings, disappeared once again into the shadows of the forest.

[Cuddle Pot]

Dragons Cradle

18 pairs of eyes were trained on the golem and the elf girl. 17 of these spies kept their hands firmly on heavy crossbows, trained on the elf in case. Their cloaks blended in well with the volcanic stone, the only give away to be found was the steel tip of their weapons. While 17 waited for sigh of aggression, the last of them approached boldly with the cowl of his hood down and his strong arms shouldering his crossbow. He was short of stature and his copper hair and beard reached down the bottom of his chest. In his deep voice he boomed out in a thick dwarven accent, "That's far enough lass! Your surrounded, whats one of your kind doing this far north? Let's keep this civil now, no blood need to be shed!"
@Mr Rage

Sun Kingdom Forrest

Ultrovos... in the silence of such a serene night the strange voice seemed to boom like a thunder clap. Look to my home... a strong and foreign force compels you to look to the night sky, at a specific point in the endless cosmos. No one would know what they were looking at but for the Veiled One, it was as prominent as a bleeding wound. One of the stars was missing, the voice returned, it was not heard from above or even from his own head. But to the east. Your answers are found in a land of rot...Find your answers... sew shut the hole in the heavens...

@Oraculum

[Oraculum]

As the unearthly intonation reverberated through its entire form, not quite spreading from the mind as much as seeping in from without through loose ends and edges, the figure froze in place as though spellbound. One of its legs being bent in mid-stride, it appeared as though it might be about to kneel, yet it neither completed its intended movement nor sank down. Instead, it turned its concealed features upwards, as though beckoned by an unseen force, and thrust its arms toward the heavens, fingers poised as though it would clutch the black fabric of the benighted sky. In this position it remained long after the voice's final cryptic command had faded into the void whence it had been issued.

Finally, a stirring of its bag shook it from its stasis. Lowering its arms and plunging its right hand into the uninhabited satchel, the figure at once began to mutter in a whisper so strangely hollow as to convey an impression of being uttered by a disembodied shade, or some creature lurking in distant subterranean halls. "To the east... I have sought far and wide in all the corners of these lands, and naught was there in any of them that would lead to that which I am to find. Nor yet have I encountered any land of rot, or anything which might be worthy of such an epithet..." By the time it had completed this sentence, it had produced from the bag a folded parchment, grown yellow with age and wear and bearing some conspicuous stains of dubious nature. Once unraveled, it was revealed to be a somewhat crudely drawn map of the world as far as it was known to the Kingdom's cartographers, with a number of symbols having been added to it by a foreign hand, presumably that of its owner. The figure threw a glance at the stars, gauging its position by the constellations above it, then thrust a finger in one spot of the map, as though to pinpoint its current whereabouts. It then slowly shifted its gaze toward the right edge, until it reached what seemed to be a blotched black stain upon the parchment; upon closer inspection, however, it could be seen that it was merely a feature of the chart, depicting, with some graphic extravagances, a vast swampy territory.

"The dragon's grave..." the figure muttered. "What I seek cannot be there. Yet there are to be answers... What answers could there lie in such a place, where there are neither living to tell nor dead to show?" It remained silent for a few moments. "It is said it lies at the core of this world, and the roads departing from it are all of equal length. Mayhap it shall be known to me which one I must take." With these words, the figure folded the map and, returning it to the satchel, resumed its march, headed in the direction whence that which had spoken to him had last let itself be heard.

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

The countless years of the search, the hunt, had come to this fruition - to know this shadow that fell so greatly across the land and all its glorious things, one so dark that it dared creep into the heavens above and hells below, had a form... a name. It no longer was this nameless evil that walked among men that threatened to carve away what the world had intended all along, but it was undoubtedly not the first and not the last, this much was certain. All that could be said now, was that it was yet again an era for action. For sometime mortal men had toiled against one another in bloody wars, some so violent that the soil itself drank in their lifeblood for days after, but those were more recent in memory than any other previously. Strange was it to think that one could live in such a time, let alone such a place, so grand in its natural bounty and beauty, but all the same shattered apart by the destructive nature of the mortal races.

It was not as though they were incapable of doing good - having proven themselves on many account prior - but this? This was different, different enough from all those past. There was no doubt about such a matter, the great savage form itself being the living evidence that change was needed by forces from quite afar. Its heart thundered with the anticipation of what was to be done, for every ounce of primal fury at last had a direction, of which it had begun itself upon for several days now - a journey just starting, no less.

It traveled day and night, sleeping for but brief periods, feeding enough only to carry on again shortly thereafter immediately. It took time throughout to peer into this place it sought, but what it witnessed was seas of the dead and damned. A strangle polarity of abundant nature among horrors unalive - abominations of some great cataclysm. Having known this place before, long before all this at that, it was a sorrow to set eyes on it now where its peoples, who had wasted nothing, found themselves reduced to just that; absolute nothing. But it raised more questions each time the leviathan of fur and fury peered into the waters of a conjured spring.

What matter was the purpose of this place? Why was it here, and only here, could the shadow of men be seen in brief? Was it the ambient power of it all - the amalgamation of life and death - or was it just that it had at last faltered, just as any man inevitably would? No matter the answer, the fearsome animal in all of its regal and noble glory, was displeased with what it could think of as a suitable explanation. It only urged the primeval titan on...

[Mr Rage]

"Eeep!" Ein squeaked out in surprise as the Dwarves suddenly made themselves shown.

Zeke made not a sound but reared up and as if to strike the closest foe, but Ein recovered herself and put her hand up for Zeke to stop. He stayed still, like a statue of himself, only the crimson flames that snaked out of the myriad of cracks in his body moved. Ein slowly raised her other hand, the universal sign of 'I'm not doing anything that you should shoot me for.'

"Me and Zeke here," she gave a nod to Zeke who still stood still behind her, "Came up this way to visit his birthplace for his birthday. But now we want to keep heading north. I am looking for work, Zeke is here to protect me, or anything else I tell him to do. He usually helps me on my jobs, especially with anything heavy. But we don't mean no harm!"

She bashfully looked down at her feet, "I don't imagine you would want to hire me for anything?"

[Ojo chan 42]

Sabriye waled through the white gates of Solar. Solar was a city ruled by the family she had been raised with, wich made her somewhat the princess of this city. She was in fact not a princes but a noble elfs daughter. The guards greeted her and Illoris when they walked through.

Solar

Just then horns where blown as a squadron enterd through the gates, victourious of their hunt. Infront of them rode Turgon Felagund, head of the noble guard. When he saw the two of them standing he stopped his men and rose off his horse.

''Lord Illoris, Mylady Sbriye. What an honour to have you here waiting for my return'' He said staring at Sabriye. She didn't liked the guy one bit, he hated humans and was only nice to her because of her family. The worst of it though is that she had heard rumors from her handmaiden, Ninnea that he'd asked Sabriye's father for her hand in marriage.

''unfortunalty, my brother this is not the case. Sabriye had sneaked out again and I had to go and fetch her'' Illoris said laughing. He liked the guy, they were roughly the same age and he would deffinalty aprove of Turgon marrieng her.

''Mylady, will you not do that again. Will you do that for me'' Turgon said and he kissed her hand. That was the one thing Sabriye hated about being blind, she could not see the movements of those close to her. Dang she hated this guy, she knew he'd only wanted to marry her because it would bring him closer to the Solar family. And as a bonus, he'd only needed to be with her for a rough 50-60 years. A short amount off time of a elf.


''No I won't'' Sabriye said short before making her way to the golden rain house, the house where the Solar family resided. She tapped her staff and 'saw'that Turgon didn't follow her but Illoris shifted. Sabriye heard him mutter a short 'sorry, my friend' before rushu=ing after her.

''what was that for'' He said strict, like talking to a little girl.

''If I am ever going to run away, he is the reason of it'' Sabriye awnserd him angry.

''you and I both know, you are to weak to survive on your own out there Sabriye'' Illoris said with good intentions.

''How do you know! I am not as weak as you make me out to be brother'' Sabriye awnserd in anger.

She was not weak, she just wanted to go outside and see a human, a stranger like her.

[Razael]

A solemn shroud had swept the land as heavy and cold as the snow that gripped are flesh tightly, for we who had walked alongside are merciless masters, who bade all in their wake may live and die, We who lead had taught our brothers and sisters that there are forces in the world beyond ours that we could not change. For we who had trained since the moment life was breathed into our vessels that life was ever coveted by death and it is this union that we must not turn away. We held our spears and strung our arrows that fed us, crafted from the bones of our dead, the kin trees that stood in a new life to honor those who fed its roots and gave life to our land and serve as a reminder to our living that even in death life can flourish and regardless if one is living or not, the land will be respected not of fear or doubt for there could be no argument, on this day every man, woman and child chanting the names carved on their arrows and spears we stood unified beyond the bonds of our teachings and oaths we held the hands of the spirits of our ancestors and the land that kept them for the spears that fed us and nurtured the living and crafted from the dead would be the spears that defended the motherland in her place. "This was the time where our poets would stop singing, lay to rest the might of the pen and instead take up the sword, are days would be our nights and in the absence of the light from the glorious sun we would turn and bare witness to a scorching heat, a consuming fire and light that blinded those unprepared, in the absence of our sun we followed the purifying light of our people and we beheld red horses and those upon them had power to take peace from the earth with spear and bow and bloodied blades we would strike!" We recall are foe well for though he and his army craved battle as well as we Vershultians he only sought to conquer, loot and pillage what he perceived his, for though we understood that the strong survive and the naturalism of destruction he was no force of nature, our people fought devils and demons in the guise of men and mortals but it was their leader who we saw as the true beast, his head was that of the foul spawn he seemed to revere, a dragon with a roar like the lion that shaped his body for though the Lion is proud it relies on others to do its work for him and grows contempt and spiteful in its laziness. The Khans most striking feature in my mind however was his massive wings that stretched long and far accompanied by the tail of a scorpion, these two things sought to cover the land that it soared over in darkness, to claim dominion over all it saw beneath it with a poison to bite deeply and spread its intent within the sacred blood of the earth. It was this beast, Khan Scazzven that filled us with something beyond rage, a new duty alongside our sacred oaths past the longing for self preservation and it was his presence that inspired us to harken to our fellow warriors and alongside their war cries and death songs we howled a new adage against our foe "Let nothing control the skies! Let nothing hold dominion over the world the spirits flock to! Let nothing rule the skies but the howling winds and the life bringing rains, let our ancestors be its herald!" Our arrows bore the names of the kin trees are ancestors planted in this land and as we let our arrows loose the ancestors and land itself soared among them in their flight bearing a single point to be made in their decent. Yet the ground would be no different for the Khan, are shield wall was as thick and wide as the trees, the stones beneath are feet to endure are roots dug deep to remember they where the shields and thorns of the land and her people and at their fall a tree would grow and bare their names in honor as the shields unbroken. Just as it has always been in our home, here in this paradise the rain tastes of blood, we gave our selves to our comrades and our home, we offered our sacrifice to our leaders so their law could reign and the gods and Motherland saw the glorious struggle of their children and Fatherland, rising with them as the beasts of the wilds offered their fangs,claws and horns while the plants and rock rained their heavy hands on those who sought to do them harm. For months life and death reighned eternal on this land, death littered the cold earth with her children while life fed from this offered bounty with no end in sight for how could one destroy the eternal earth without destroying himself?

"From a land turned red I rode, my people and foes beheld a white horse and I sat upon with a crown given to me and a bow, I set out to conquer those who conquered! I was given power over the earth to kill by blade, plague and the beasts of the earth and be given the victors crown! I set my horse galloping while stringing my bow with the arrows that spread pestilence and victory! I sit now among the dead, the place of my birth in ever reverence to the upholding of the most sacred laws, life and death hold their dominion once again as I watch the horses gallop away without riders, my bow snapped, its power infused within me but my crown given to me remains, its iron mars my skin at its touch and as I look around at my Motherland ripped away from her children and my Fatherland slaughtered before me I let my eyes flow with tears, then blood and the very soul, the whole mess wrung from the inside out and dripping down the blackened stain of the past."

[Cuddle Pot]

Frendler (Kingdom Of the Sun)

In the small village of Frendler men and women milled around, putting on brave faces for the children, as they tried to make themselves busy. The day before a knight of radiance had visited them, he warned them that raiders from Broken Spine were seen days away from the north most fields. This host was large but far away from the hordes of Scazzven and therefore beyond the armies concern. The knights orders were simple yet firm. "Do not leave the village! Move what remains of your flock to the settlement, do not enter your fields, all men are required under penalty of the law to remain. I will return hopefully with my lords house guard, do not flee, you will draw the raiders eye! And above all stay brave children of the sun!" And with that he road off hopefully with the call for reinforcements.

The men tried to make themselves busy, and nothing was told to the children, who as always played their simple games, and song songs older then their parents. They sang with joy knowing not the meaning or fear that shadows their simple melody.

"Put a coin in the taxman hand
Do your task, protect your fellow man
Walk the path, right your wrong
Or they come
Confessor calls, as Red Sun fall
three twelvemonths, only ninety nine ride
To Ebonwood, liars
Ebonwood, thieves
Ebonwood, murders, monsters
and me"

The old men of the village listened on in bittersweet reflection. Only they survived and clutched on to a different age. An age were banditry was suicide, not the only way to feed ones family. They also remembered when such a sinister song was nothing more than a child's amusement to them. And so they listened, lamenting the long departed innocence of their youth.

Into the village hobbled one of these old men. A simple fisherman, who's only remaining wealth in the world was the love of his family. He wailed with tears in his eyes, "They took her! They took her! Buy the Sun's radiance they took my granddaughter!" He was ignored. The children were scared by his ravings. The old were burdened by their friends agony, yet they to were long past noble deeds and calls to arm. One of the men finnaly worked up the courage, "Bandits, or the Scazzven?" The fisherman wept, "Bandits! They came after us! They thought we killed their kin! I swear we touched no one. They didn't care, they grabbed Lucile and wrecked our home. Please i'm not strong enough, will no one help me save her?" The man who approached him was both the bravest and most cruel among them, for he had the courage to kill the old man's hope. "You know we can't. We are bound by a Knight of radiance, we have to wait for his return. Its for the good of the village." He left the fisherman there knowing nothing he could say would sooth the old man.

And then, the fisherman remembered a song he had learned as a boy. He learned it from a member of The Order of Merciful Knights. His father had told him only the dammed, righteous, and dead entered Ebonwood. As he set of in search of the cursed wood he wondered which one he was.
@Turbowraith

Dragons Cradle

The dwarf huffed. "You came a hell of a long way for a birthday party lass. As for work that ain't my choice. Come! Your get to meet the obsidian smith. I'm sure he has a few questions for 'Zeke'." He set off fully expecting the two of them to follow. His allies kept their crossbows trained on the two of them.
@Mr Rage

[Mr Rage]

"A long distance is relative," Ein responded following along behind the Dwarf. It wasn't her first time being escorted by those who would just as soon do her harm, she knew not to get any closer to him then he had gotten to her. Trying to maintain the distance, Zeke following close behind Ein, she continued her thought in the high and musical voice of a young elvish girl, a voice most people found as refreshing as music softly sung by a fine soprano, Dwarves though, in her little experience with them, had little joy of music and so probably found her high, soft, and smooth voice an annoyance, a direct contrast to their hard, low, and rough voices. "Distance is relative, you know. You say I came a long way because you assume I came from the forests. I suppose that is true in a long way of looking at it, but truth is, I only traveled a day to get here from where I slept last. I cannot find home amongst my kin in the forestholm of old as you might expect, but rather, I am forced to wander. Politics, I'm sure you understand. But home, as the humans are fond of saying, is where the heart is... which is silly, because it is obviously right here inside of me, but I have taken it to be a figure of speech, to mean that Home is everywhere and anywhere so long as you still live. It is quaint, but I like it."

She took a step on a rock she thought was solid, he skittered away, and she nearly rolled her ankle, but before she could fall Zeke reached out and caught the small elvish girl in his huge Obsidian Hand. She looked up at Zeke before regaining her feet, "Thanks Zeke!"

"Questions for Zeke, aye? Not so sure you'll get much out of him, most people have no idea what it is he says, when he does decide to say something... What kind of questions is the Obsidian Smith going to have?"

[Cuddle Pot]

Dragons Cradle

The dwarf and his companions walked on in silence despite their guests chatter. It wasn't that they craved the silence, it was that the mountains weren't nearly as safe as they used to be. Eventually they reached their camp were the captain of their little party waved for the guards to open the gate. He lead the girl and her golem to a small quarry in the side of the volcano. At this point the girl had asked, "What kinds of questions is the Obsidian Smith going to have?" To which he responded, "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Amid the sea of black glass, was a grey haired old dwarf working by the light and heat of a puddle of lava that had risen to the surface. He was intent on his work, shaping the molten glass into moulds for armor and battle axes. Not looking away from his work he spoke up, "Marvelous stone Obsidian. I've spent years mastering and learning its mysteries. So very sharp, yet brittle that is if you don't know how to temper it. Most marvelous of all is it's a great conduit of magic. A midnight warrior with his full suit is neigh immune to some of the nastiest of spells. Which leads me wondering young miss, Who in the name of Krallesh made a devil such as that? I didn't, I'm probably the only dwarf that could. I'd guess Scazzven, and Roric here put an axe in your head to be safe, but the conqueror hates elves, so your probably not one of his. So little miss got a story for me?"

@Mr Rage

Library of Secrets (Coalition of the Shore Folk)

"Pardon me miss." Spoke a soft high pitched voice. It was a Yelb, holding out a book and two rolled up maps. The creature was scarcely 4 foot, the Yelb are often described as turtles who lost their shells and grew longer arms and legs. They were also renowned half-wits and skilled merchants.

"A man in a funny cloak bought these from me. Told me to bring them to a brown hair girl with a book. Last person I tried giving this to was angry said he was a boy. I don't think your a boy, so these are probably for you. I'm supposed to wait till you start reading then run away mysteriously. I don't know how to do that quietly though." he waited patiently. The book seemed to be a spell book, with a blazing eye on the cover. There appeared to be loose piece of parchment sticking out of the cover.

@DarkwolfX37

[Mr Rage]

"No, they were all quite nice, really!" Ein responded happily. It was almost as if she had no idea what kind of situation she was really in, that the naivety of her apparent youth had robbed her of the ability to see that she was likely in danger.

"As to who made Zeke? Well if you must know, it was no bearded Dwarf, no sir, it was my very own Father, and me! He taught me how and together we made Zeke, my guardian! Its true, you know, what you said about Obsidian being immune to most magic, but some magic is older then stone, and some magic is older then earth, and some magic, is older then time."

She paused for dramatic effect.

"But that isn't what happened in this case. I mean I guess the magic is pretty old, but it isn't as old as all of that. You see, I don't control the Obsidian, I control the spirit that took up residence within the lava that constantly feeds the obsidian armor any time it does happen to crack. Pretty neat, huh?"

[Turbowraith]

The corpse felt grief. Not his own, but of another. He smelt sorrow in the air, he tasted guilt. His dead eyes followed the man. It was the same one he had encountered earlier this evening. Curious. The old man was seeking something, yet he wandered about as if lost. Was that what he tried to achieve? The corpse arose and dashed, faster than the eye could see, from one patch of darkness to another, circling the old man as he moved forward. Even though the moon shone bright, the figure appeared as nothing more than a formless mass at first, not unlike the shadows one sees in the corners of their eyes when the light is low. Gradually, he came closer, and his circles became ever smaller. His interest grew. This was not a sinner. He was a lost soul with nowhere to turn to. He was seeking the Lost Woods. In a split second, what was once one of the many shades cast by the forest became a pillar before the old man, blocking his way. Wrapped with a cloak that flailed wildly in the wind, the creature raised his head. White, dry skin stretched across an old skull, and contrasted the surroundings starkly, making it seem as if it were aglow with a soft white light. Shrunken lips barely covered sharpened, crooked teeth. There were no eyes, only sockets.

"You seek the Wood. But it is lost. It has been since before your birth. Yet you seek salvation. And that I can procure. What ails you?"

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

The coolness of a crystal river's water found itself pulled from its smooth stones, rushing quietly down the hillside. Each steady lap yet again taking in the revitalizing waters made clean once more, the jowls curved in pause; sparkling droplets delicately hanging from the shortest of fur that covered the titan's muzzle. The quiet here, the sound only of the ambiance of distant avians and the muttering of the calm water, was a reward all its own. Each pause in the journey there was time set aside to return life and power to these things - divine, impossible works that were set in motion by a paw so massive that it could surely return solid stone to but pebbles once more... just as they did here and now.

The waters, restored with life once more by this sacred source, would undoubtedly attract and breed more life in return over generations to come. Perhaps even men, in time, would come to this place as well and discover it a thing of plenty, but in such a case all that could be hoped for would be for them to make wise use of it. Others? Those of the past, in many cases, had not been so wise and paid dearly for their error.

In withdrawing from the stony edge and rising to its feet, it set off once more in its continued pursuit.

A hunt not soon to end.

[Ojo chan 42]

Sabriye sat in the huge window of her room and stared at the night sky. Traces of cried tears where on her face, making it sticky.
What she had feared had come true. Turgon had indeed asked her father for her hand in marriage, and he gave them his blessing. The news was made known at tonight's dinnerparty and it had hit Sabriye like a stone in her face. She could only sit in silence while her future got sealed before her eye's. She couldn't see it with him however, a future that is. She had taken the first change she got to sneak away and went to her room. The only place she could lock herself into.

" who's there" Sabriye said when she heard the twigs of the wallflower underneath her crack. She felt the vibrations on the wall going faster indicating that whoever was climbing up went faster.

"Sabriye it's me. And thats twice on one day" Iloris said laughing when Sabriye swinged her staff at him again.
" twice of what,you searching for me, or me almost smacking in your skull" She said wiping away her tears.
Ilorus still saw them and sat besides her touching her hand.
" little sister, why are you crying. Isn't Turgon a good choise for a husband. He will treat you with kindness even though you are human. Father and mother have been worried about you for quite a while. What if no elf stepped forward to ask for your hand, you would've spent your life alone"

" I'd rater be alone than to be the bride of Turgon" Sabriye said moping, turning away from her brother.

" Sabriye, think of mother. She wants to see you as a bride. And to be honest I as well" Iloris sais laughing a bit.

"like I said, I'd rater be lonly than marry him, brother please understand. I cannot marry him, I do not love him"

" I am sure you will come to love him with time Sabriye" Iloris said, but he knew that he couldn't convince her anymore. Once Sabriye had set her mind on something she couldn't be changed that easy.
"Just give it a thought" Iloris said patting his sister on the back. He sat his foot on the wall and climbed down. Sabriye had something else entirely on her mind right now.

With a sigh she walked into her room and grabbed her bag, deciding werether or not to do this.
''I'm sorry'' she said out loud and started to pack her most precious belongings, wrapped her cloak around her and casted a invisbiletie spell on it.
For the first time in her life Sabriye regretted that she was blind as she could not write a farewell letter to her family. She took one last glance at her room before taking off and sneaking past all the guards.

Once she was outside the gates of Solar she started to run while tapping the ground with her staff. She quickly decided that this was not fast enough and Sabriye took of her shoes continuing on bare foot. while running she cut her feet on a small rock and left a trail of blood dripping after her on the ground.