Dalyuk Member
你是狗脸
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- Old Guild Username: Dalyuk
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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- Dalyuk 11 yrs ago
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The dull pain in Jeonbae's stomach did not get better, his vision becoming blurry at times. He slid down against a nearby tree in the great plains outside of gold village. Undoing his robes briefly, he noticed a spidery scar stretching to just below his chest and around to his spine. The area was discolored to almost black from the impact, the properties of the dragon bone sheathe having an effect on his body. He clumsily put his robes and shirt back together, He felt helpless. In his current state, it would be impossible to go back to the Gold Village, and his magic was taking a while to return, so he may as well surrender himself to the Hunters if he challenged them at all. Not to mention that he had some kind of internal injury. He coughed up some blood, unusually dark, and struggled to stand up again. He felt good enough to transform and fly back to the tribe, but that would be abandoning them to a fate far worse than just death. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought about what to do.
You could just destroy Gold Village but keep the other dragons alive, that would probably work.
He shook his head. That was a crazy thought, rarely did Dragons destroy human settlements and whenever they did, a war against them was sure to follow. No, he had to think about it more carefully. He could probably summon thunderclouds over the entire village, but carefully control it so it only struck the Hunters' Lodge. Once he had regained his strength...
His thoughts were interrupted by the coarse shouts of several men, about a mile away. Jeonbae snapped around to see who was approaching, and saw a party of six hunters, armed with various guns and in their trademark green cloaks. His heart skipped a beat as he realized they were looking for him. He ducked down and started crouch-walking, making sure to not make any sounds. However, the hunters had approached in far less time than they had expected. One of them yelled out at the sight of rustling grass, and before long, the sounds of gunfire echoed throughout the prairie, bullets whistling past him tearing through the verdant grass around Jeonbae. Suddenly, the booming crash of a cannon echoed throughout the prairie, and moments later, a cacophonous impact burst around him, sending him flying. He remembered flying up in the air and hitting the ground, pain bursting from his wound, darkness suddenly closing in around his vision, and his mind drifting off.
A rough jostling woke Jeonbae up as he felt himself being dragged along roughly. As his vision adjusted to the dim kerosene lighting, somber stone walls took shape around him, with forbidding wood and iron doors flanking the passage. He recognized this design from many years ago...
"The Hunters' Lodge..." he murmured sadly, realizing that he had failed and been captured. He did not have his robes on, instead dressed in a plain and somewhat ragged white shirt, with loose, equally torn tan pants. He felt the cold metal of a collar fastened around his neck.
They must have taken your robe with all that stuff in it, good job.
Jeonbae was brought back to his senses as the men dragging him stopped abruptly in front of a door. They opened it and dragged him roughly inside, throwing him inside a cage. The impact jarred him again, the pain in the wound doubling once more. He sat up painfully, resting against a bar, before he noticed the others inside. Aksaja, Winter, Aster. The lack of Chu in a cage gave him hope for a single moment, but fear rushed back as he saw the three dragons captured.
"Oh, I was wondering when you would show up with him," a deep, rumbling voice said. He recognized that voice from long ago, but could not remember. A grandfather dragon stood over them, looking down at Jeonbae's cage.
"It didn't take long, dragon-infused weapons are truly wondrous." Jeonbae didn't pay attention, a pit growing in his stomach and gnawing away at his heart as he tried to hide his shame. He was the grandfather of the tribe, and he had failed to protect the children of the tribe. He had no idea how Mirazan would react... it was unforgivable. He did not cry, but he did not want to show his face either.
You could just destroy Gold Village but keep the other dragons alive, that would probably work.
He shook his head. That was a crazy thought, rarely did Dragons destroy human settlements and whenever they did, a war against them was sure to follow. No, he had to think about it more carefully. He could probably summon thunderclouds over the entire village, but carefully control it so it only struck the Hunters' Lodge. Once he had regained his strength...
His thoughts were interrupted by the coarse shouts of several men, about a mile away. Jeonbae snapped around to see who was approaching, and saw a party of six hunters, armed with various guns and in their trademark green cloaks. His heart skipped a beat as he realized they were looking for him. He ducked down and started crouch-walking, making sure to not make any sounds. However, the hunters had approached in far less time than they had expected. One of them yelled out at the sight of rustling grass, and before long, the sounds of gunfire echoed throughout the prairie, bullets whistling past him tearing through the verdant grass around Jeonbae. Suddenly, the booming crash of a cannon echoed throughout the prairie, and moments later, a cacophonous impact burst around him, sending him flying. He remembered flying up in the air and hitting the ground, pain bursting from his wound, darkness suddenly closing in around his vision, and his mind drifting off.
A rough jostling woke Jeonbae up as he felt himself being dragged along roughly. As his vision adjusted to the dim kerosene lighting, somber stone walls took shape around him, with forbidding wood and iron doors flanking the passage. He recognized this design from many years ago...
"The Hunters' Lodge..." he murmured sadly, realizing that he had failed and been captured. He did not have his robes on, instead dressed in a plain and somewhat ragged white shirt, with loose, equally torn tan pants. He felt the cold metal of a collar fastened around his neck.
They must have taken your robe with all that stuff in it, good job.
Jeonbae was brought back to his senses as the men dragging him stopped abruptly in front of a door. They opened it and dragged him roughly inside, throwing him inside a cage. The impact jarred him again, the pain in the wound doubling once more. He sat up painfully, resting against a bar, before he noticed the others inside. Aksaja, Winter, Aster. The lack of Chu in a cage gave him hope for a single moment, but fear rushed back as he saw the three dragons captured.
"Oh, I was wondering when you would show up with him," a deep, rumbling voice said. He recognized that voice from long ago, but could not remember. A grandfather dragon stood over them, looking down at Jeonbae's cage.
"It didn't take long, dragon-infused weapons are truly wondrous." Jeonbae didn't pay attention, a pit growing in his stomach and gnawing away at his heart as he tried to hide his shame. He was the grandfather of the tribe, and he had failed to protect the children of the tribe. He had no idea how Mirazan would react... it was unforgivable. He did not cry, but he did not want to show his face either.
Gah, week is busy too. Friday I'll definitely be able to have something up if I can figure out what to write.
Sorry, was busy on the weekend, should have something up on Tuesday or Wednesday.
I can have something up this weekend.
That sounds cool, it'd be nice to have another human character!
My post somehow unedited itself. I'll fix it again tonight.
Fixed it! I'll post something tomorrow or Saturday in which Jeonbae tries to not get captured by people with cannons.
Fixed it! I'll post something tomorrow or Saturday in which Jeonbae tries to not get captured by people with cannons.
Looks like Aster and friends are gonna have to sit tight while Mirazan rescues everyone :D
Marcus snorted in derision at the comment the punk-rock girl, Jennifer, had said.
"No, haven't gambled in my life before now," he explained. "Moment I woke up, and everythin' was clearer and brighter and stuff, I knew I was one. Only took an afternoon with one of my friends to figure out what my Domain was."
He took out a single, worn six-sided die from one of his pockets.
"I keep a lot of trinkets and knick-knacks around, just kept sorting through them until it finally clicked. Didn't have to go to Vegas to find out."
A guttural yet civilized noise rang out throughout the room coming from the podium, the sound of a man clearing his throat. Marcus turned to the front of the room, where a lean yet well-built man stood, finely dressed, his eyes a sinister shade of grey, and a gaunt-looking face. It was as if a fire burned inside him, controlled but destructive all the same. His presence seemed to dominate the room, but it was not one that Marcus feared, rather, he was in awe of the power he held just by being there.
His powerful voice resonated throughout the room as he made his speech to the dozens of Wild Gods in the room. After some time, he stepped down from the podium, and prayed to each God. Marcus could not hear what he was saying, but as Arven neared to where he and Jennifer were standing, it sounded like a plea for help. Before long, Arven reached Marcus.
The calm and collected facade that Marcus had built up shattered as the words left an impact on him.
"I can't promise anything... but I'll try," he said, voice shaking a little bit. He unconsciously brushed back a lock of orange hair as he breathed heavily, trying to keep his composure. He had never thought about risking his life before for anyone, not even friends or family. And yet, he accepted that this was his fate, to die entrusting the future to those he had died for.
"No, haven't gambled in my life before now," he explained. "Moment I woke up, and everythin' was clearer and brighter and stuff, I knew I was one. Only took an afternoon with one of my friends to figure out what my Domain was."
He took out a single, worn six-sided die from one of his pockets.
"I keep a lot of trinkets and knick-knacks around, just kept sorting through them until it finally clicked. Didn't have to go to Vegas to find out."
A guttural yet civilized noise rang out throughout the room coming from the podium, the sound of a man clearing his throat. Marcus turned to the front of the room, where a lean yet well-built man stood, finely dressed, his eyes a sinister shade of grey, and a gaunt-looking face. It was as if a fire burned inside him, controlled but destructive all the same. His presence seemed to dominate the room, but it was not one that Marcus feared, rather, he was in awe of the power he held just by being there.
His powerful voice resonated throughout the room as he made his speech to the dozens of Wild Gods in the room. After some time, he stepped down from the podium, and prayed to each God. Marcus could not hear what he was saying, but as Arven neared to where he and Jennifer were standing, it sounded like a plea for help. Before long, Arven reached Marcus.
The calm and collected facade that Marcus had built up shattered as the words left an impact on him.
"I can't promise anything... but I'll try," he said, voice shaking a little bit. He unconsciously brushed back a lock of orange hair as he breathed heavily, trying to keep his composure. He had never thought about risking his life before for anyone, not even friends or family. And yet, he accepted that this was his fate, to die entrusting the future to those he had died for.
Oh noes D:
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