[D&D 3.5] Dark Storms Gather

[rhoenix]

The glowing, silvery-white sphere sank about halfway into the ground, and stopped. For a few moments, nothing happened.

A spark here, a sizzle there was first heard, rapidly increasing in speed until...they stopped completely. Then the entire pattern glowed a soft, silvery-white light, bathing the entire room in a soft, warm glow. The patterns began to shift, change, as if iterations of the previous, and then simplifying into a single, glowing symbol within the large circular area: the Draconic symbol for "Celestial."

Grer's left hand began to itch. Almost absent-mindedly, he removed the glove and gauntlet to expose his hand to the open air - revealing a symbol on the back of his hand. It was the Dwarven mark that was, according to old Dwarven legend, on the back of the hand of the first Dwarf who slew multitudes of the baleful undead to make the Underground safe: ghosts, vampires, skeletons, liches. It was the mark of the Undead Slayer.

The light of the pattern faded - when it had done so, the World Sphere and its indentation were gone.

"Well!," said Kalya. "That certainly looked fun," she remarked, as a pen held by an unseen hand wrote furiously in an open book next to her. "Given that, each World Sphere must then be re-absorbed by each lock upon rebalancing - how utterly fascinating."

She glanced at the book, and seemed to glare at the pen. "Oh, do keep up. I am on a timetable, you know," she told it primly.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Volans was more than a little confused by the elf helping out, but things did go a little bit faster with him there.

"Might there be some kind of effect of the... marking?"

[rhoenix]

"Oh, undoubtedly," said Kalya almost distractedly. "Each of them likely picked each of you for a reason. I do feel...repelled by that mark, which is curious. It feels to me like righteous indignation at my very existence - very curious. Good Paladin, I regret that a handshake between you and I will likely be no longer possible, as I would likely lose too much valuable time recreating a limb that touched you. Fascinating," she finished, still examining the pattern on the floor with care.

[Academia Nut]

Doran had a very good policy when around dragons that weren't already trying to kill him: shut up. He knew he wasn't very good with others, so he had kept quiet around the archlich, even if he was a touch perturbed by her undead form. Undeath wasn't natural, was less natural than he was.

Still, he was fascinated by the ritual and the new mark on Grer's hand. Was the mark always there, hiding, waiting for the magic of these World Spheres to bring it to the surface? And if so, did all of them have something special, something that had drawn them into a destiny they did not yet know?

[Jason_Firewalker]

Sylvandor sauntered over to Kalya and bowed his head in reverence, "Mistress, thank you muchly for your hospitality. I would though have to request that we retreive the goblet set and be on our way. I was also wondering if you could spare some studies for me, as my interest in the arcane is more then passing."

[rhoenix]

Nodding in return, the great archdracolich seemed to smile as she sat back on her bony haunches. "Well then, I'm sure all of you have to return to your friend the steward, and that vile insipid slug he calls a king. Watch yourselves near that king - that man has a large store of bad karma, and he's due for a withdrawl any moment now."

Items were brought out by the golems, set before the travelers before the constructs left the room from whence they came. They were set before each traveler, and included new adventuring items for each. Though none of the items were magical, all were masterwork. They included new blankets and bedrolls, well-preserved and good food, and new backpacks. Sylvador's also included a stack of books, Volans' included a smaller stack of some of the more interesting books he'd remarked upon while looking through Kalya's library, a book entitled "Your Darker Heritage and You" for Saidin, and a sketchbook for Doran. In front of each neatly-folded bundle were two golden chalices, making twelve in all.

As she looked at the travelers, she appeared to look closely at Gror, and then Saidin, Gror again, and Saiden again, finally appearing to be chuckling quietly. "My blessings to all of you, and may all of you journey well, she said in terms of reverence. "Travel the path of Bahamut," she added in Draconic; if literally translated, the blessing would be "fly behind Bahamut."

As the travelers left the castle, and emerged into the early-afternoon sunshine outside, they saw what appeared to be dark clouds in the distance.

[Rogue 9]

"I daresay he does," Gror grumbled under his breath as Kalya mentioned the king's bad karma. "Thank ye kindly," he said to the dracolich as he picked up the items presented to him. "I'll nae soon ferget this day." With a tip of his helmet, he accepted her blessing and walked out of the castle, peering up towards the clouds as he did so. His eyes narrowed as he looked closer.

"Tha's nae cloud," he said darkly. "It's smoke. Somethin's burnin'. Somethin' big."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Thank you Kayla. We appreciate the help, and may Baccob smile upon your endeavors"

Volans looked at the clouds

"There is only one thing big enough to burn that much. Impetrus"

[Jason_Firewalker]

"I have to agree my friend. The better question is wether or not we should leave the king to get his just desserts and remain here, OR go save his ingratious royal pain in the ass?" Looking quickly at the clouds, and then at his companions, Sylvandor was clearly stressed. He absolutely loathed his royal lowness and at points wanted nothing more then to watch his fat rend eternally in the firey pits of Hell or the Abyss, but he could not help but think of the lost innocent lives. Before there could be an answer from any of his comrades, a tear shed lightly from his left eye, barely noticable till he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a light hankercheif to wipe it away.

Replacing his fabric quickly, Sylvandor dropped to a knee drawing his thinblade and muttering in the most ancient dialect of Elven he knew, "Bless my blade great lord of elves. I go to save a tyrant so that the innocents he opresses may yet live to see freedom from his depotism."

Quickly he stood and began walking at a brisk pace towards the city...

[Academia Nut]

Doran frowned and said, "If the moment comes up, we can decide whether to save the king or barbeque him, but right now I am rather more concerned for all of the innocent people within Impetrus. Come on, let's go!"

[Haizu]

"Couldn't have said it better myself Doran!" Eddie clapped him on the back, or what he could reach of it anyway. Getting himself situated in his saddle, Eddie said "Ready whenever you lot are."

[Comrade Tortoise]

Volans also walked at a brisk pace toward the city.

"I think the important question is who won. I dont think a mundane army could easily handle the steward. Then again, I dont imagine he would feel motivated to pull the kings ass from the fire"

[rhoenix]

The travelers neared the city, and the smoke from the fire became more obvious. More obvious though, was the silence.

There were no sounds of battle, no sounds of things being destroyed. The closer they got though, smoldering pieces of buildings were apparent, as was the shocking amount of destruction. Castle Impetrus was half-destroyed, and the surrounding town broken and flattened. Bodies littered the streets, both of villagers, and a surprising number of strangely-uniformed and armored bodies. The outer wall nearly non-existent; it took work now to see where it once was. Blood made the streets slippery.

As they neared where the town was, they saw a single figure, off in the distance, amongst the ruin of the south part of the town. This figure was not humanoid - it was very large, bronze-colored, and draconic. Without warning, the figure roared into the sky - a long, loud roar, filled both with anger and grief, so loud it hurt the traveler's ears, even at this distance. Soon though, even that roar fell into silence.

All else was still.

[Comrade Tortoise]

The wizard seemed somewhat distraught as he walked through the ruins of Impetrus. It was not weeping sadness, but a sort of world wearyness. He realized then that the black line on the horizon was not storm clouds, but an invasion army. Not even an invasion army. If it was Impetrus would at least be occupied and most of the people alive. This was a murderous horde that did this, and Volans had no idea why.

Then he had to clamp his ears as the dragon roared. He didnt even try to call to the Majestic and grief stricken creature. Only walk in its general direction and know that eventually they would be seen.

[Jason_Firewalker]

Moving in towards the large draconic creature Sylvandor sheathed his swords, looking mournfully at the carnage as he walked through the streets. In again an ancient dialect of Elven Sylvandor spoke quietly, "May these people be brought to their rightful places in the next life. May they find the purity of times that they could not here in this life."

[Rogue 9]

Gror was strangely silent as he walked through the ruined streets of the city with his companions, looking with an unreadable grim look upon the strewn bodies of the victims of the massacre. He grimaced as the dragon's roar assaulted his ears, but showed no other reaction as they proceeded towards the castle. His weapons stayed at his belt, but his right hand gripped a silver sphere with Moradin's symbol engraved on its surface.

[Haizu]

Eddie could not believe his eyes. For one rare moment he was speechless, utterly dumbstruck by the carnage that surrounded them as they walked through the city. The halfling had never seen such wanton destruction in all his days. The earsplitting roar of the dragon brought him back to his senses. Gazing in awe at the beast, Eddie followed the others' example and did not draw his weapons, although he did keep his hands on them.

[rhoenix]

The large dragon wasn't paying attention at first, merely staring off into the distance. Upon hearing Sylvandor's words however, the great dragon seemed to take notice of the travelers for the first time. He seemed all ready for carnage at first, until recognition hit him, and the large being sat on his chest while looking at all of them, obviously relaxing now that he knew who the newcomers were.

The dragon's voice was low, in both volume and pitch, and was male by the sound. "You six were the last group we sent, with our hopes. Even that, it appears, was too late, as Impetrus has fallen."

With that he looked around behind them, at the ruins of the castle. "Long live Impetrus," said the dragon softly.

[Jason_Firewalker]

In ancient Elvish, "Great dragon, we are in the service of the you, Steward to the king." Sylvandor jumped onto a limb with his statement and quickly bowed before the steward. "Long live Imperetus."

[Comrade Tortoise]

Volans could only cringe at what the elf just did. Was he the only one in this group that had any sense? Volans could only hope that the wrath of a grieving bronze dragon only touched the fool.

[rhoenix]

A low rumble suddenly took the travelers' notice, a rumble that seemed to come from everywhere grew louder before subsiding. The dragon spoke again, with a deep growling undertone. "Impetrus is dead. All this great kingdom is dead, though it was rotting long before it died. Like any predator, it once was young, grew swiftly, maintained is lands, but fell to rot, and fell next to dust. All the ideals Impetrus stood for was dead well before all her people died."

There was a noticeable pause before be continued, though still with the a subtle hint of a growl in his voice. "I doubt any of this matters very much to you lot. Wait here, I'll get you a suitable reward, so you can be on your way, and out of mine."

With that, the great dragon jumped with a tremendous downdraft, flattening all the travelers nearby from the forceful gust of wind. The great bronze dragon rose swiftly into the air, to fly a short distance away, landing out of sight.

All else was silence.

[Comrade Tortoise]

" At this rate I am going to have to commission the crafting of a ring of Silence" the wizards voice was low, cold and monotone, showing a similar sort of contempt that the dragon's voice just showed.

"We can only hope that he will be amenable to giving us the information we need to find the locks..."

[Academia Nut]

Doran kept up his policy of not talking around dragons before he shuffled off sadly, rearranging the fallen he could find in the area into more respectful positions, spacing out their bodies so that if any relatives remained they might discern their loved ones a little more easily and if none returned to claim the bodies then decomposition would be a touch faster as the carrion animals and insects could get to the meat more quickly than if the bodies remained stacked up in piles or buried under rubble.

It was the least he could do and it increased the chances of finding a survivor from none to nearly impossible. Plus it let him look at the wounds and see if there was anything of interest there.

[Haizu]

Not really knowing what to say to the dragon and figuring it best to stay out of it's way, Eddie walked over to Doran. "Need a hand?"

[Academia Nut]

Doran nodded and said sadly, "Any hand... or limb as the case might be... would be helpful. It seems like the least that we can do for these people, seeing as we were too late to help them otherwise."