(OPEN) Old blood, new magic
Dec 19, 2012 9:02:59 GMT -5
Post by Rhaxta on Dec 19, 2012 9:02:59 GMT -5
((GUISE. New bad guy! Anyone else want to be a 'witch', put up an application! Crazier the better, imho. They are mostly Grey Folk but there can always be sympathizers from other sentient species.. 
.))
Through the pitch dark, noise dominated. So barren the caverns, the scuffle of a long tail could be heard, the rhythmic run and thud of the red-knee spider's charge.
Whispers of water, the regular chime of a drip from the stalactite adorned roof of the larger caves, and the great heave and sigh of the storm ridden north sea that surrounded them.
White eyes that found no restriction in the black tunnels held wide, focusing intently on nothing at all. Pale limbs were crossed beneath her, skin and bony limb digging painfully into the wet rock beneath her small frame.
Unusually for her kind, her pale gold hair was laced with raven black. Her white irises were surrounded by webs of red. She had worked a great deal at this. She had suffered for this.
She almost trembled with fear. A thought rocked her usually calm focus. She may have also just succeeded.
A thunderous roar of rage and pain tore through the tunnels and caverns- to her in the depths of them it seemed the cry had come from one hundred beasts at once. Yet there was only one, solitary lizard that was clinging to the outside of the stack in the middle of the North sea.
. It would take some getting used to, the new limitations impressed upon the serpent, or the new feelings she was experiencing herself through their blood-born link.
She had enticed the huge behemoth that was Odin the lizard- enticed him with the idea of more worshipers than she alone. He was very vain; though the dragon was indeed an idol of worship, his great length was only broadened by thick back legs and two huge wings that folded forwards to support him on ground. They did now, the spines curving somewhat around the rocky cropping he clung to. Black and grey of different shades painted his scales - save for the tip of his snout, which was a pale grey and white.
Spines in a row down his back were columned by another, shorter two to either side. It peppered the tops of his thighs and his shoulders to the extent it looked like a spiny mane.
His was formidable even before she had succeeded in her magic - woven for over three years. He had grown impatient, now he was stunned.
The dragons in this land had always had some skill with magic. Now, she and him shared their magic together. He could now use his at will.
She would be Queen of the North - if behind a good many shadowed veils and puppets - and she would drive the wild magic users from the land and eradicate them. They had to be stopped.
They had nearly killed them all once before, and one thousand years ago, Grea'n'dal had taken the necessary stand.
They could not let go of their power - so easily taken. She had to work for her new means of magic, she had to suffer. She was not about to destroy the world in haste. They were blinded by their power. She was going to take it from them.
~~~
He had spent a long while staring at his soft leather boots, but then was immediately ready when the woman let out a soft laugh. Cold drove to his bones, he stomach clenching.
Oh no, she's done it.[/i]
He could hear the serpent above, roaring what seemed victory to his ears. He had suspected what his...mistresses plans were, yet he felt something that drove it it.
He heard a wet thwump, air rushing past his face. The witch-child's moan came from his right now. He could only see the very faintest of highlights in the darkness. The angle of Grae'ndal's jawline, the whites of her eyes. She was held by an unseen force, far higher on the wall than the girl would be standing, flattening her hair, her bare skin.
A voice, a feeling..he wasn't quite sure. Yet, something passed a message.
'You are my 'prophet', Grae'n'dal. I will not have you being a false idol by enslaving this two-leg. Your slaves, are mine. Your people, are mine. Your sisters, are mine. I do not want one of them.'.
Startled to standing, he felt something tugging at him. Not physically, but...
~~
He was abruptly in the light outside, even with the dank of fog and clouds that blotted out the sun, it seared his eyes that had gotten used to pitch. He folded in the middle and clamped his huge hands over his face, then he realized the absence of weight around his neck. His hands touched the bare skin that had been beneath the weighted collar for the first time in over five years. He was going to make that Grae'n'dal pay!
He was on one of the smaller islands to the south. He was close to home! He released a wild whoop, the joy and pleasure in his graveled voice carried further through the fog than it should have. He was free, and nearly home...
He would have to be fast, the others..they had to be warned about the Witches deeds!
He took off at a sprightly run, agile for his huge frame. He was bigger, before being a captive. He had kept most of his strength from having to clamber all over that stack of haunted stone in the sea.
Course grass brushed his legs as he ran, eyes alert and sheer joy to be home calling him on with the lashings of terror that chased his heels.
~~
Grae'n'dal fell to the hard, cold floor when the dragon released her. She felt him through their bond, he was leaving. Heaving a great, lurching cough, she sat up and hugged herself. She hoped she would come out better than this...Odin was formidable and clever. Powerful - she would have to stay on top of this if she were to come out at all. She had just given a huge, power-jealous creature the means to destroy them all. She had to learn to control him.
She cast about, releasing a shriek. She cried for her fellow sisters...she needed more in this blood pact to stand any chance of keeping him in line!
.))Through the pitch dark, noise dominated. So barren the caverns, the scuffle of a long tail could be heard, the rhythmic run and thud of the red-knee spider's charge.
Whispers of water, the regular chime of a drip from the stalactite adorned roof of the larger caves, and the great heave and sigh of the storm ridden north sea that surrounded them.
White eyes that found no restriction in the black tunnels held wide, focusing intently on nothing at all. Pale limbs were crossed beneath her, skin and bony limb digging painfully into the wet rock beneath her small frame.
Unusually for her kind, her pale gold hair was laced with raven black. Her white irises were surrounded by webs of red. She had worked a great deal at this. She had suffered for this.
She almost trembled with fear. A thought rocked her usually calm focus. She may have also just succeeded.
A thunderous roar of rage and pain tore through the tunnels and caverns- to her in the depths of them it seemed the cry had come from one hundred beasts at once. Yet there was only one, solitary lizard that was clinging to the outside of the stack in the middle of the North sea.
. It would take some getting used to, the new limitations impressed upon the serpent, or the new feelings she was experiencing herself through their blood-born link.
She had enticed the huge behemoth that was Odin the lizard- enticed him with the idea of more worshipers than she alone. He was very vain; though the dragon was indeed an idol of worship, his great length was only broadened by thick back legs and two huge wings that folded forwards to support him on ground. They did now, the spines curving somewhat around the rocky cropping he clung to. Black and grey of different shades painted his scales - save for the tip of his snout, which was a pale grey and white.
Spines in a row down his back were columned by another, shorter two to either side. It peppered the tops of his thighs and his shoulders to the extent it looked like a spiny mane.
His was formidable even before she had succeeded in her magic - woven for over three years. He had grown impatient, now he was stunned.
The dragons in this land had always had some skill with magic. Now, she and him shared their magic together. He could now use his at will.
She would be Queen of the North - if behind a good many shadowed veils and puppets - and she would drive the wild magic users from the land and eradicate them. They had to be stopped.
They had nearly killed them all once before, and one thousand years ago, Grea'n'dal had taken the necessary stand.
They could not let go of their power - so easily taken. She had to work for her new means of magic, she had to suffer. She was not about to destroy the world in haste. They were blinded by their power. She was going to take it from them.
~~~
He had spent a long while staring at his soft leather boots, but then was immediately ready when the woman let out a soft laugh. Cold drove to his bones, he stomach clenching.
Oh no, she's done it.[/i]
He could hear the serpent above, roaring what seemed victory to his ears. He had suspected what his...mistresses plans were, yet he felt something that drove it it.
He heard a wet thwump, air rushing past his face. The witch-child's moan came from his right now. He could only see the very faintest of highlights in the darkness. The angle of Grae'ndal's jawline, the whites of her eyes. She was held by an unseen force, far higher on the wall than the girl would be standing, flattening her hair, her bare skin.
A voice, a feeling..he wasn't quite sure. Yet, something passed a message.
'You are my 'prophet', Grae'n'dal. I will not have you being a false idol by enslaving this two-leg. Your slaves, are mine. Your people, are mine. Your sisters, are mine. I do not want one of them.'.
Startled to standing, he felt something tugging at him. Not physically, but...
~~
He was abruptly in the light outside, even with the dank of fog and clouds that blotted out the sun, it seared his eyes that had gotten used to pitch. He folded in the middle and clamped his huge hands over his face, then he realized the absence of weight around his neck. His hands touched the bare skin that had been beneath the weighted collar for the first time in over five years. He was going to make that Grae'n'dal pay!
He was on one of the smaller islands to the south. He was close to home! He released a wild whoop, the joy and pleasure in his graveled voice carried further through the fog than it should have. He was free, and nearly home...
He would have to be fast, the others..they had to be warned about the Witches deeds!
He took off at a sprightly run, agile for his huge frame. He was bigger, before being a captive. He had kept most of his strength from having to clamber all over that stack of haunted stone in the sea.
Course grass brushed his legs as he ran, eyes alert and sheer joy to be home calling him on with the lashings of terror that chased his heels.
~~
Grae'n'dal fell to the hard, cold floor when the dragon released her. She felt him through their bond, he was leaving. Heaving a great, lurching cough, she sat up and hugged herself. She hoped she would come out better than this...Odin was formidable and clever. Powerful - she would have to stay on top of this if she were to come out at all. She had just given a huge, power-jealous creature the means to destroy them all. She had to learn to control him.
She cast about, releasing a shriek. She cried for her fellow sisters...she needed more in this blood pact to stand any chance of keeping him in line!
