The Red God

18:09] "My brothers and sisters - this current mission will be long, and harsh - but with faith you will stand strong and endure , live and survive the trial set upon us."

He crossed his arms and expanded his molten wings. "We are children of fire - born in ice and snow, we are those wanderers who would seek the warmth of the flame, who would call to the five divine to bless us with their warmth and for that warmth - that safety we have asked for we are the ones who would do their bidding."

"If you are afraid, then good - if you feel your hands trembling then good, if your heart is pumping, thumbing with the sound of one thousand beats then yes this means you have fear in your hearts - use it rise up to the challenge and face it with unwavering resolve, my brothers and sisters - we are to descending upon our enemy and seek to right a wrong that should have been attended to a long time ago..."

He turned to his group. "For Garljing, for ryujin, for skarlax… for the five." he boasted.

And soon they would be off trucking across the mountain peaks to a place that could truly be called

THE LAND OF ICE AND FIRE
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[18:26] {NARRATION} The trek had thusly begun.

The slope of snow ahead rose into the sky, a craggy grey face more steep than any had ever seen. The mountain is where time tops; the rock doesn't care for hours or minutes, days or even years, to the jagged terrain ahead there is only the past and all that was. It's easy to get lost in the repetitive motions of boots on snow, one foot in front of the other, half a day spent climbing what was up ahead.

But this wasn't just any ordinary stroll, no. The group of fireblooded are transversing the landscape in search of the carved, stone fortress that was said to be unmissable, given how impossibly large it was and that Garljing and his sons themselves carved it from the face of the mountain. There is no map needed - only the determination to keep going through the cold bite of winter and all that was up ahead.

A moment for introspection, to talk to one another. All as the sealed Balmung loomed in the background, perhaps tugging on the fears of those present as bad omens always seemed to follow the blade, ghosts of a more subtle kind.

What dwells in your heart?

You're about to meet your Red God, after all.
[18:32] What dwelled within the heart of Okri, the stout and short smith of the Fireblooded?

The drive to improve his craft. he cared no for his hand at battle, nor his skill as a warrior, but that as a smith. To put his time and energy forth into the creation of wondrous arms and armors. He even took up the art of alchemy to help enhance his works with the application of acids and fluxes.

What dwelled in the mind of Okri? A single minded purpose to learn all that he could. It was a pity that he was unable to study the famed blade of Dragonslaying. There was something about the study of such relics and materpieces. What could he derive from the study? What could he glean for his own works?

Of course, the snowy trek was hard and long. And it gave Okri time to do his second favorite activity in the world. Talk. Endless chatter and flow of words. Climbing gear at the ready and motor mouth in the running.

"...And then he said he never seen a ratman before... But he knew they existed! Kept telling about some grand empire beneath the earth, stretching from city to city. Ah, Cousin Bardin, wasn't the same after the events at Theria, or so I was told. Me Da always said that the opening of that gate was what lead to the Pandemonium Chase. Anyways..."

And so he rambled on and on, to any that would listen and to the ones unfortunate enough to be near him.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[18:34] The teen tightly gripped his cloak passing through the frostbite cold that was showering on him. All the time it took to stumble through miles of snow in search for the great carved fortress. With no sense of direction or map, Kuro knew that once one was linked to the firebloods, there would be no need of a map. All they have to do is walk towards where their goal calls them from.

Kuro took a second to stand still and catch his breath from the amount of excerise it requires just to walk through snow. All he would remember in his mind was the way that his parents talked to him about the gods. The many tales that came from honoring those that once blessed the land with their flames.

Was he nervous? For the time being, he was just anxious to find out what would be ahead in their path. Exactly how the god will accept the gift they are bringing to it, as they have finally attained the cursed blade that was used against their sons.

Kuro patted Kaida's shoulder seeing as she too decided to follow on the journey of their blood.

Afterwards a slight nod to Kirk seeing as the butler himself was coming on the trip.
(Kuro T. Hintze)
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[18:36] Floating along with the group, he notices the terrain ahead was jagged, it'd be good for the younger ones to get through some harsh domains on their own.

With them at their sides, he figured they would all be okay.

As they approached, he looked for the location they were meant to arrive upon. The great fortress. He continued to flap his wings through the snow, the darkness giving him all the sight he needed.

The shadows reached him telling him what was only a few feet ahead like a bat in the dark.

A few flashes of red streak across his eyes, arrows? In an instant he'd been slain, half of the others along with him. He grasped for where the arrow was only to realize it was nothing but an all too vivid day terror.

"Bloody sword.." he muttered.

Were dragonslayers lying in wait?
(Dezmond Graves)
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[18:36] Time faded, lost in the determination to fulfill the wish of Skarlax. Looking for Garljing to offer him many items of sorts. He was prepared mentally for whatever awaited them further into the mountains. Following the Vartuuls lead. Knowing they would have a better feel for where their god lies.

A sense of wanderlust and honor dwelled in his heart. As it was the only senses he felt. To meet a dragon they dub a god? Not many can say they have done that. As he wished to add it to the many things he has done.

Minor exhaustion started to kick in after a while. However he remained steadfast. --As the air got lighter... harder to breath from the higher altitude. Kirk would pool more of it towards him. So he didn't have that issue.

He felt like something was off. Since they haven't been attacked by at all. Or if so it was only minor beasts, easily dispatched by the might of the group.

Kirk noticed the nod and returned his own to Kuro.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[18:36] Kaishen was nervous more nervous and fearful then he's ever been. He was about to engage in something that would separate the men from the boys, but he wanted to impress his peers and higher ups. Kaishen would look towards Varceal and then towards Kurk to gauge there reactions. Because if they are nervous then this must be pretty darn serious. Despite the look of it and the terrain that the grouped trekked he was determined to give it all he's got and then some.

"Deep breaths..."

"Deep breaths.."

Were the words that the young drakanite said in his mind. He needed to keep himself composed because when it comes to serious situations like this kaishen found himself always slipping up when he should've handled a situation correctly. It's just one of the things that he needs to work on if he's ever going to be a strong fighter. But today was not a day to dwell on what he needs done, training was over and it was time to get serious.

Kaishen made sure to not stand too close to anyone, but still managing to keep a relative space so he doesn't get in the way of the stronger people. Kaishen did know when to strike and how hard when in group situations, it's one of the things that the orphanage taught him growing up was strike when there is an appropriate window, kaishen saught out to find said window if battle were to commence.

Today kaishen delves deeper into the fireblooded, Today he will know what it means to carry that title and live day by day with it.

(Kaishen)
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[18:36] It was time she had joined her kin on an expedition, a journey to the peaks. The weather was harsh, the scenery covered in white, it was difficult to not lose sight or accidentally step in the wrong direction. Yet a glance to the tree's or her fellow group would help with stabilizing herself.

She carried a bag of food for everyone during the trip, handing some meals out when one or the other had grown hungry. Despite being a Drakanite well able to battle the cold, she still layered up and remained close. She was very toasty to those walking near her, Kaida was more than willing to provide some warmth.

A glance to Kuro, whom she stood closest to along this journey, not a whimper or complaint about the lengthy venture. Feeling that this journey was only going to get more difficult, physically and emotionally. Her warm smile shown through the scarf that she wore to cover the bottom half of her face.
(Kaida Ormr)
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[18:37] It had been a while since he traveled this far from the café. Tonak wonder if they be okay. Though no many knew he was gone.

It was a blessing but he have to go through with things. The people here right now needed him. So he push on. As they went through the snow his body be use to it by now. After all the ooker had lived in Theria coldness for so long. It was natural to be in cold now as much as the heat.


As they come upon the area. The cold got stronger.

"Woooooo."

Tonak actually felt that. He see the area they come to and nod his head.


"Whenever you all are ready so am I."

Being the oldest. Tonak was wondering how he do.
(Tonak Botcher)
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[18:37] A dangerous, long journey through snow and harsh winds that feel like it pieces the skin. With such an arduous travel, it is hard to not start thinking about what lead you into joining in the first place.

For Rune? It was a mixture of both duty, and to return a favor. A favor from a time he was born, when his mother was taken care of by a fireblooded priestess. Kept her in health until the plague caused by the black wolf has passed.
In Rune's eyes? It was thanks to the pirestess' help that his mother survived. That he was given a chance to be born into this world in the first place.

This journey? Is but one part, one step in his way to return the kindness once given to his mother. To take action and fulfill his duty as someone who wanted to join the fireblooded. To serve as best as he is able to, with brothers and sisters in-arms.

His mind was focused on the task- But that does not mean Rune would stay silent throughout the trip. A man of companionship, he keeps striking forth a conversation with fellow fireblooded, and those who came along to help.
Both to help pass the time- And because he enjoys it.
(Rune Daman)
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[18:38] The trek up the Tarian wasn't for the faint of heart and even the mighty would find the venture daunting. Through the endless swirls of the primal past they'd pushed. Each but a small ember upon the great mountain, a flickering of heat and warmth against the endless snows. Perhaps that's why once they'd finally came to a pause Gajin felt all the more antsy. They'd gotten so close to the fortress of the Great Wyrm and now they where on the precipice. Now was truly the only time for one to fall back into the snows below.

The Drakanites gaze shifted from the daunting landscape forward towards the sealed sword he'd helped retrieve several years ago. It'd taken time to plan this adventure. Time to make sure the correct rites where in place for the traveling. His focus shifted towards his fellows after a few moments listening to their word.

"I don't know much about the gate or the chase really but I do know we're close to Garljing. What do you think he'll do once we arrive?" As he spoke the Drake pushed his hands into his pockets. Seeking to warm them out no doubt with the biting cold so present. There wasn't fear in his tone no something akin to excitement.

His gaze then shifted from the group upwards towards the winding bluffs and jagged rocks that lay before them. "I think he'll be pleased with this offering." As he said the words the young Drake began to take a few deep breaths, shifting from one foot to the other as he sought to keep his blood flowing strong. Not allowing the short rest to still his blood and chill his limbs.
(Gajin)
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[18:38] Duniya came along this time. Finally, she had all but overcome the weight of her past and the burdens of her own birth. Now, despite all, she'd be here beside her brothers and sisters of the temple. The biting cold couldn't phase her, the blessing of Garljing's flames would keep her warm as she strode up the mountain.

The shadows would keep her safe, as well. This pilgrimage had been on the forefront of her mind for months upon months now. Before the day was done, she would set her eyes upon the coveted fortress of the Red God Garljing.

"Tonight... this generation of the Fireblooded make their mark upon our lorebooks."

A brief pause taken, as the chattering of the group she found herself in were heard to some extent. The words and actions of Orodyn and Varceal took precedence over her own, after all. She had no hand in the glory of victory that resulted in the procurement of Balmung… but she'd be damned before she did not aid themin their offering and pilgrimage.

Her boots of blue steel left their imprint in their crunch against the snow beneath her. Determined to press forward no matter the cost.

"Flame, blood and glory await every last one of us."

Hallowed would their names be in the texts of the temple, should they continue to earn the favor of the Five. Favor that she was finally starting to earn herself.

Walking towards the light of the flame, her back turned toward the encroaching darkness.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[18:38] With the heart kept close to him, Varceal would feel the thumbing of sealed wyrm as we grew closer to a place only he could call home. "How many years has it been?" He commented to him self as he felt the cold breeze brush upon his face - pushing long locks of blond to his back.

"We, the children heed the call of our gods." He spoke outloud thus many could hear him as he continued to truck along the snow. "Transgression from our forebears made right here and now as we deliver this accursed blade."

There was a nervous smile he would share to those around him , one bearing a single fang a crooked smile if one would say so at the very least. "So are we ready then..." He looked to his brother than to dezmond and then to the rest of the group.

They didn't have a choice - no turning back... "Don't be faithless my kin, this is nothing but a trial - we will prevail and endure."

he was sure of it.. Amongst the group however there was one chained and freezing with very little cloth to hide his flesh from the bone chilling freeze of the north. Maradin - who Varceal captured before this... a sacrifice to those who would oppose his kin.

This poor soul would be one of the offerings as well.. this man stripped of his claims and chained to the will of Garljing's coat alone.

"Just make sure he doesn't die before we get to our destination..." Noe variceal would look to the two he would see take seats that have remained empty for two long.

"Dezmond… Duniya." He paused.


"Take point lead.."


(Varceal Vartuul)
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[18:38] They're wearing steel that's bright and true
They carry news that must get through
They choose the path where no-one goes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdqDmJbm2eY

In a dismal drone, the brigade charges onward. A pilgrimage of not only their most devoted, but any and all who chose to brave the most unwelcoming face of the tundra. The heights of a mount that invited them not.

Orodyn marches - wounded. The girth of his boon, as per was made necessary, now bestowed unto one of the fireblooded proper. Its side effects, present on him.

Clawed hands ache, and lie bare in their exposure to the blizzard - thus numbing part of the searing pain of Garljing's Armor, now cast upon his very appendages in tax.

A small price to pay.

The ring of the Astor family in his right hand. Balmung, the weapon of terror, one he had retrieved in an endeavor past, now resting at Varceal's hip.

Duniya waltzes up to his pace, not too far from him. They tread in silence.

Words are unneeded.

His thoughts are riddled - euphoric. His heart races in silence.

To meet your own god.

To bring reckoning to his name yourself...

To be acknowledged, or disowned?

Time would only tell - Orodyn is ready to die for his beliefs.
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[18:44] {NARRATION} The further the climb up the mountain, the thinner the air became as if heat itself was stolen from the atmosphere. Even the most arduous of adventurers find themselves growing heavy when they pass the clouds that the spire peaked through, an endless sheen of white ahead of them like a blanket spread out on the world itself - no green or oceans ahead until Sluthia. Any sweat on your forehead might freeze and break, and there's the constant winds that whip against you that nearly drown out the voice of the stoic leader Varceal, but he's heard through it all...

Yes, they're here to deliver a tribute like no other.

This group of dragonborn and their acquiantances will deliver Balmung personally, as well as the blood sacrifice that's tied up and shoved along.

In the distance, at least a hundred miles up in the air, the spread of green wings can be seen as one of many of the dragons of the mountain fly overhead, soaring higher than any human can reach. A common sight where they're heading.



They're wearing steel that's bright and true
They carry news that must get through
They choose the path where no-one goes



Another hour goes by. Supplies were aplenty, but the water was nearly frozen stiff, like drinking ice.

It's getting difficult to breathe.

Then, there's a howling wind that's so fierce it rattles you to your bones-- maybe it's the remnants of Garljing's roar in the distance, carried by magic, but you're practically lifted off of your feet. A second gust follows until it's battering you from every angle, where the group may want to huddle together. There's magic in the air, bearing down on them, causing the snow to the east to crumble in an avalanche. Carry on - keep going. [ENGAGEMENT - NPC Swarm, 1 round. A test of fortitude. Temp on KO.]
[18:51] And as they went, the beat of wings followed. The howling gale of the mountains descending. All around them, the rush of a frozen North and the sound of a climber's doom.

Avalanche.

Unusually, Okri manages to shut up for a moment, watching the area as he brought forth his own blessing of the Dragon. Unlike the others who bore theirs day in and out, Okri rarely ever brought forth the mantle of half-shift.

It just got in the way of his smithing. Suitable for fighting but not for finer manipulation. But here? Upon the snowy banks as the mountain itself tried to kill them?

A rush of power and the surge of heat. Molten earth to heed his call and keep his stout figure warm. Where he stepped, a small fissue behind. The hiss of the earth and the gust of warm air against cold.

It would be mighty embarrassing to go down to the elements already!
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[18:52] The cold hair was causing the teen's sweat to freeze, as his whole body shivered. He felt like he could at any moment pass out from the cold not being able to full shift into a drakanite. Most of the water had been frozen by now and all that was left was their sole bodies to continue up with the sacrifice that Varceal was bringing.

Kuro made sure to stand real close to Kaida, as a magma mage like herself could emit the slightest of warmth for him and the rest. Sadly, it was getting worse, and Kuro was having trouble even to catch his breath while placing a hand over his chest. The cold was too dense and not enough oxygen was entering his system.

Powerful winds lifting making it feel as if his bones were turning into ice and would snap just like his wrist had once. A giant avalanche falling from the mountains coming straight towards them as his black cloak of shadows slowly formed ready to outrun the collision.

"Fucking avalanche..."
(Kuro T. Hintze)
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[18:52] Hair growing stiff, his eyes gone dry. Joint was extinguished, and his tension was held high. He trekked through as far as he could go, stopping to walk periodically. His wings could not muster the strength of a full adult yet.

As he looks over head, he'd forgotten about Varceal speaking, but noticed a dragon above. Grand and Green, striking like a bolt of spring in the sky above. He knew all too well, that they were close.

Beings others say don't exist, flying within the eyesight of those here who were blessed to share their blood or their faith.

Panting as he continued his march he checks on those whom needed it, as the roar or howling wind lifts them from their feet. He looks cautious, tightening his leather wraps. His fingers were cold as ice, scales felt like iron to the touch. As the rumbling continued he'd finally realized.

Something was coming.
(Dezmond Graves)
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[18:52] It was Dun herself and Dezmond who were called upon to be the ones leading the pack this time around. A test of their abilities. And what a test it would be...

As they pressed on, it grew colder, more difficult to breathe. The wind howls with such intensity that it causes her to stumble in the snow, nearly falling down. She would poise herself in this instance, her hand gripping the shaft of her glaive.

"...Our path... seeks to test us."

Clear thinking... perhaps a result of the blessing urging her to complete this journey. It seems that this will not be as easy as it could. Even with all of her brethren around, she knew that the arduous journey ahead would not let up or give them any quarter.

She'd not fail, though. Not for herself, nor the dragonlords she sought to lay her life and limb on the line for. Without question, she was going to make it to see the offering sent to the Red God. Not only that, but she was going to help in leading her people all to get there as well.

Just as she steeled her nerves, however, a second gust follows. A magical wind, sending rolling snow hurtling at them.

"Everyone... together!"

Flames began to spill from her nostrils... as she prepared to do all she must to get them through this chapter.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[18:53] Rune breaths air that turns almost solid due to the sheer cold up the mountain. While he has been more fond of the cold than the heat, they have started to reach a threshold that begins to surpass his own natural resistances. But, he must keep pushing on, together with the rest.

And then, the howling wind hits- lifting him off from the ground, with second gust of wind soon follow, attempting to put him in disarray. Not wanting to get himself separated from the rest, Rune reaches a hand upwards to use his magic:

Heavy iron chains materialize from his palm, cast out in multiple directions, trying to wrap around as many people as he can to keep them all together. Not enough to bind them by accident, but enough to take hold and help them from getting separated.

"If anyone needs an helping chain to hold on, to just yell my name! I'll do what I can!"
(Rune Daman)
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[18:54] A dragon's words ring out from above. Inspiring words? Riddles? Perhaps even a warning given. Kirk even while pressured remained at attention ready for whatever came his way. Doing the best he can to remain calm. His composure tested to its fullest.

The air around got much harder to breath. Having Kirk expend additional mana to upkeep his wellbeing. Sucking in large heaps of air, with each deep breath.

The roar from what he could only assume was Garljing shaking him to his core. The ground gitterning beneath him. The snow surrounding them collapsing. Causing the path they came unable to be exited again. There was only forward. Not like anyone here was going to turn back. That's for damn sure.

"Seems like, the only way left is up. --No time to waste."

He ushered following behind Duniya and Dezmond.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[18:54] Kaishen walked up the mountain and boy was it the most unpleasant thing in the world. If he wasn't so close together with one of his peers the realization getting lost was a definite thing. Kaishen could barely hear Varceals order, What's worse the air pressure as the group ascended onto the top of the mountain started to get thicker, Like a cotton had been lodged in your chest. It was so hard to breath and so cold, Kaishen dared not to drop a bead of sweat. He used his wings to shield himself from the dangers of the frost, but the winds were no joke.

Then...

An avalanche...!!!

the snow comes crumbling down on the group! Kaishen braces for impact as he uses his wings to shield most of the falling snow and derive from the pressure that the snow carries. The heaviness of the ice was almost unbearable. He wasn't too akin to magic to since that there was magic in the air, he figured it was just a normal avalance of snow bearing down on the group as they continued to walk upwards. There was not time to think in situations like these when your physical fortitude would be tested by Garljing himself.

Kaishen didn't want to disappoint, He didn't want to show weakness, but what else would come of this journey if they continued on? No matter he was determined to see this day through, but even the most determined souls are still fearful and there was a lot of fear in this young mans heart. but in this profession you must always expect the unexpected, Even if it takes the form of..

An Avalanche...
(Kaishen)
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[18:55] That biting wind was painful to the skin it felt as if there was a curse instilled upon them. Sweeping through the group to strike at each in turn. He could feel it cut like a knife in the exposed flesh of the Drake. Even still the youthful draconite focused on his heritage, breathing deep focused breaths, exhaling billows of smoke from longs burning with an inner fire. Leathery wings curling about his shoulders to help keep in more and more of his magic fueled warmth.

Yet those eyes only stared ahead like bitter embers of a fire dying low. Unwilling, no unable, to give up and surrender to the chilling winds. He could feel the closing in of his comrades as the roar echoed down upon them. If they where attacked things would be bad due to how close they where but in these moments their heat and their shared blood faith kept them safe from the greatest enemy, the Tarian itself.

At-least that's what he thought until he could hear the creaking of snow and the bursting of ice. Looking to the east his mouth dropped as a great hurdling of snow began to hurtle down upon them. He didn't say anything for a moment as he saw it coming down upon them.

Then he barked a laugh, "Bahaha! The Tarian's seeing whose unworthy of meeting Garljing." His ears twitched as the command for unity went out and with it his wings spread forth, flapping roughly as he pushed closer to the group as a whole. He wasn't gifted in the elemental or even the more esoteric magics but as he pushed to take a front spot the youth's frame began to bulge as muscles expanded and sharp bones sprouted through his scales. From his feet bones webbed out in a make-shift snowboot. All the better to keep himself grounded against the rushing snows.
(Gajin)
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[18:56] Tonak would travel further. It was simply a game of endurance and he was fine with such. Those who came upon this quest knew of the choices. Tonak himself even at his brittle old age.

The man would have to see things through.

"A little chilly."

Seeing the dragons in the sky he chuckle. "I'm glad I lived this long."

He would pull through as the raw mana made him push. "Tonak was sure that were many things to come. He was prepared very well.

The elder would fix up his supply kit and make sure to seal it tightly. After all the tricks to living was using your brain. Breathing was heavy but the elder was trained for this for years. It was best to use the inner body muscles for such a thing as he would take shallow breathes. Staying close by the others.

The elder would see the snow and rub his chin. Hmm.

Holding his hand out his eyes would light up as he would let energy come to his form. "Those who standbehind me best do now." As the old man prepare for the snow to hit as he was going to move it one way or another. The energy forming a shield like substance. To either push the snow out the way or to the side.


(Tonak Botcher)
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[18:56] The higher they went, the harder it became to breathe the very air they stood in as it pushed and pull the group fiercer than before once they had entered the layer of clouds.

Her wings retract closer to her form and the heat around her grew more intense to assist with some level of warmth to the surrounding group. She kept the scarf over her mouth to prevent the harsh winds but even that was doing little.

Spotting wings, she could only assume it were the legendries, without a clear look, it still felt so surreal.

Though, the crackle and rumble of avalanche sends fear to travel down her spine. watching everyone's reaction, she kept a ear out for orders, keeping closely knit with everyone.
(Kaida Ormr)
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[18:57] Gajin naturally took a hold of the great chains of Rune. They where the veins that kept the beating heart of their brotherhood united. Though, in a less poetic thought the young Drake just new it'd be better to have ahold of others if he fell.
(Gajin)
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[18:59] Varceal's boon shields him ever so slightly. A blessing by flames that saw his natural scalemail marginally enhanced in its wake. As heat itself becomes drained from the atmosphere altogether, a slither of Ryujin's consciousness keeps a narrow layer of it spread across Orodyn's silhouette.

One he wishes he could bestow into his kin. One that is confined to him by fortune. Only he and Duniya, its only bearers in the ungodly frost.

Frostbite, on the verge of settling in, keeps him grounded.

One of their forefathers, eldkin or otherwise, flies overhead. Orodyn stares in silent awe - words escaping him in an endeavor of faith otherwise.

Days trail on by, attention is paid to his kinsmen. Enough to assure their wellbeing amidst the strained campaign in their pilgrimage. For, were they to falter, whose fault but his, as a harbinger, would it be?

Oxygen is dim, flames must burn from mana alone, for no atmosphere was dense enough to channel a flare proper.

An avalanche.

Chains extend, Rune making ample use of his abilities and wit. Orodyn, acknowledging the effort immediately, takes ahold of Longinus, his obsidian spear, and violently stabs one of the chain's links into the mountainside chisel - effectively securing a safe line for everyone to latch onto.

"HANG ON! WE MUST ENDURE THIS AVALANCHE TOGETHER!"
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[18:59] Varceal would unsheathe his blade and spread his wings to emit heat to the rest of the group. "Eyes that watch - and natural disaters." He tried his best to keep with the group and use his magma prowress and fire magic to shield his group from the coming fall.

"Burn through this ice and snow." He commanded.


"Use the fire you were blessed with those of you who could." With that he would grab onto the chains rune would make- and grab onto it. "Grab on to the chain and keep together."

It was a good plan - an accommodation to rune would be handed out somewhat after this. "If you can use fire emit heat and use your flames, Try not to run out of air while doing so."

Even Varceal himself was starting to feel the drought of air - it was cold but he felt himself sweat and even sometimes catching himself from a hyperventilating pant.

"We move on - and cut down any who would stand in our way, this is the land of dragons only strength speak here.." And with that he would hope to see that the group would prevail this frozen trial before them.

For nothing was more worth it - then do see their god and to make amends for the past by their mothers and fathers of Theria.

"Here it comes."
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[19:00] {NARRATION} [Swarm beginning... Counting down soon... Auras and styles on. Levitation potion sip.]
[19:01] {Item} You picked up Levitation Potion. Dropped by Kirk Simmons..
[19:01] {NARRATION} [Counting down in 60s...]
[19:01] {Item} You picked up Levitation Potion..
[19:01] {Item} You picked up Jerky. Dropped by Dezmond Graves..
[19:03] {Item} You picked up Levitation Potion..
[19:03] {NARRATION} [Narrating[
[19:06]
{LOAD GAME}

[19:07] {NARRATION} Back and forth they go, fighting for their lives against an unseen enemy. Whether it was Rune casting supporting iron ropes and forming a lifeline that was carried by Longinus, the flare of molten lava from Okri, or the drakans shielding themselves from impact with their strong-as-iron wings. Up until now they've purposely conserved their strength for the tests within the fortress, but the Mountain Tarian itself was the first hurdle to cross.

The magically empowered, freak gusts of winds where a natural element that the trek had to content with going forward, and despite the rocky journey they manage to come out of the other end in one piece. None of them were buried by snow or taken off into the sky by a whorl of cutting air, instead, they reach the very top of the landscape to take in the breathtaking sights below, where the beams of the sun graced all of the north beyond reaches of Esshar. It looks heaven-bound from so high up, where you don't quite feel like another person in the world but something more.

At the top of the world, each and every one of them heard a dragon's roar in the back of their minds, quiet and distant but ferocious and passionate. The harsh chill suddenly seemed more mellow, after that.

Beyond the frost and the high rocks, there it is-

The gates of Garljing's Fortress. There's no snow covering the black rock, the heat inside keeping the surface smooth. It stands bigger than any castle, housing giants within, an entire family of dragons, the size of a large city should one explore it fully, easy to get lost within.


At the gates, there's a list of names carved into the stone, about fifty in total. A tradition it seems is to etch yours before you enter, as it may be your last night on Eternia.

They were going in-- right? Not just another tribute left at the doorstep, but... a bold exploration within the home of the Red God.
[19:16] They made it through their path, though they were buffeted by snow and attacks unseen. But her flames would keep her safe, as would the darkness that burrowed into her very soul. Often, she would find herself in the middle of it... dealing with the rage of being cornered like that in aggression.

Once they made their way past it all, a roar sounded off from the distance in her mind. She could not tell if it was a result of the Red God's fortress being in such close proximity, or if it was a trick of the madness that threatened to take hold of her.

Judging by the reactions of those around, however, this was very real... the gates could be seen from here.

"Glory and blood..."

As they neared the gates, she read names carved in the stone. One was familiar, one she knew very well. It was her namesake, her great grandfather, Dun Task. One of the first fireblooded, burnt alive by Garljing in his arrival.

She'd be the second time his name was on this list. A small blade was taken, and she hammered her own name into the stone.

Dun Hintze

Hopefully this wouldn't be her headstone... but if it were, at least it is a magnificent one.

"Onward." She said, chest heaving with anticipation. Today she was to redeem herself in flame, for years of weakness and inability to take such tasks upon herself.

Today, she was to earn her name and her wings.

Or die trying.

(Duniya Hintze)
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[19:17] Tonak would then begin to follow the leaders as the snow coming was no problem for the elder. It was something he expected and he would glad return to its place.

Waving his hand.

The snow be sent to the side as it come at him. Though he realize Rune was quite the genius. He himself was glad to see the young man developing his skills further. Truly this journey into the mountains was something he would engrave into his being. Though with the time and wanting to keep going. The snow would not stop their efforts. Everyone driving themselves harder than ever.

Though when it was all said and done.

When they reach the top. That is when Tonak realize he actually feel the heavens in the way. A view like never before as he just chuckled. Life was good to the old mam.

Seeing the gate he look at the boys.

"Well gentlemen." Prepared to follow them. Though he check on everyone else.

"Everyone okay?"
(Tonak Botcher)
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[19:18] They were all able to make it out of the avalanched unscathed as Kuro's body was lifted into the air all the way to the top. The voice of a dragon causing him confusion as he slowly looked around trying to pinpoint its source, but once it was visible they were all in for a cheer.

From a distance, the fortress they seek, the tall gates of stones that would tower over the young teen. Not even the tallest drakanite of the mountain could compare to it. On the stone, he could already see a certain Task name. His grandfathers.

On the walls, a list of many names as Kuro pressed his wrapped hand against it trying to feel the texture. A true history of those that had arrived here before, but how many of them made it out alive?

His sister and Dezmond were the ones leading them on so, idly by he continued to follow their every orders. Before walking out he made sure to engrave

Taking a knife from his waist, Kuro would write his name on the stone.

Kuro T. Hintze

Keeping the T for Task in there.
(Kuro T. Hintze)
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[19:19] The battle had begun abruptly, searing flames scorch his wings and icicles collide with his chest. The drakenite felt as if he were being ambushed now, that day terror coming to actualization. He paused spreading his wings wide in one motion sending everything coming near him away with a beat of his mighty wings.

Diving into the sounds he aims for what is unfamiliar, slashing at an unknown foe. Roaring, aiding those of the younger side with their enemy. Wide haymakers coated with ebony shadows rip through the enemy tearing them to shreds as he roars in unison with his comrades.

In the matter of minute the battle is over.

As they come to realize what's ahead, the pace picks up. He takes to the harsh winds once more flapping ahead, he looks to the Dragonlords and then to the Fireblooded.

They were certainly venturing inside.
(Dezmond Graves)
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[19:19] Sweat couldn't reach her brow as the fight concluded, parts of her leather cloth has been singed or frozen over, takes a bit of heat to melt those right off. Rushing over to Kuro to check if he's okay, along with everyone around her before taking a moment to look at the view they had up here.

Truly, surreal... Breathtaking, the Drakan inside called out for that freedom to bask their wings in the skies and the heavens above. How that must feel...

Enough daydreaming, she brings herself back to her reality, following behind her kin to a massive fortress. Reveling in his humungous size, the interior... She couldn't begin to imagine how deep it went. Looking to the gates, she'd notice along with everyone, the list of names carved into the stone.

Walking forth, she'd read each one to respectfully give them a moment of silence for their bravery. Whether in heroism or treachery, those who stand before these gates most likely were all equal as an opponent to the legends lying inside.

Paying to that tribute... She'd kneel with everyone and etch her own name into the stone...

Kaida Ormr

Her father would be proud at the least that she was here. Standing up, she'd return to Kuro's side after he had etched his name onto the stone.
(Kaida Ormr)
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[19:19] "It's beautiful..." He said after clashing with the swams of beast and checking each member of his group for injuries - but it seemed they all survived without fault. One in particular he was watching out for was Kaishen, the young stalwart drake with inspiration from his own move sets. Then to his brother he who already knew he didn't have to worry to much about.

Varceal kept his blade unsheathed and to his side at all times after the run with the few swarms, it was hard not to stay on your feet in this place. Now the group would approach the stone gate, the very essences of their people would come from what lies behind the gate and now..

They are here to make history. "Brothers and sisters... we have made it to this great gate - where very few have made before to offer tribute.. and to offer our selves to our lords. And seek judgement and guidance, take time upon this stone slab to sketch your name in the history of our own people.. I pray that some of you will give life to those who would too seek to appease our lord."

And with that- his blade was raised and with fire brining it's tip to it's melting point Varceal would sear his name into the stone along with the date.

Varceal Vartuul - 1803.

Varceal would move to the gate ahead shortly after that expecting it's greatness and waiting for the rest of his group to catch up, he enjoyed the sight of the majesty of the work done for garljings home - it was clear that only the devoted would come here to offer tribute.. and only the devoted would survive soon after.
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[19:19] A floe of lava to combat the flow of ice and snow. Where the avalanche came down to crush them within the flowing sea of snow, Okri put all his might into a fissure upon the earth. A blast of super heated air and then a gush of lava following.

One more aspect in their combined efforts. Heat to melt and divert, chains to secure and bind, or just encrusting themselves in the raw might of their magic.

A team effort against a common foe of the lonely climber.

Safe and grounded, they all continued. Their hazardous trek towards the gate, with Okri's mouth running back at full speed.

"...And one day, Cousin Bardin came in to tell me Da that he found some kind of lost hold. Some place distant from Aegis. Another place he called a blasted wasteland, where giants of men roamed, seeking glorious violence. Said he found a group of cyclops and drakanites worshipping another dragon beneath the mountain, something about embodying aspects of it... Anyways..."

And then, they were there. Imposing gates loomed tall, showing the way to the long avowed fortress. A structure unlike any other he had seen, built to house the most terrible of beasts that roamed the land. The home of Dragons upon Esshar's mountain range.

The young man could only squint at the etchings of the gates, looking over each one in contemplation. How many were of the faith? How many were bold dragonslayers?

He sauntered forth, bringing out his rune scribing tools and etching upon the black stone his own name.

OKRI, SON OF HALFDAN

"Aye... Reckon that'll do. If anything, at least they'll know I was here. Can't wait to tell Cousin Bardin... You know, he once told me that..."

And off he went, rambling as he ventured into their potential grave.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[19:19] After the hard fought battle and by utilizing Rune's chains, they reached the top. His blue hues laying upon something he never expected to see. A keep perfectly well kept. With an ominous overbearing despair sinking into his chest. --The man took a gulp as they approached. Noticing the stone near the gate. With a large list of names. He gaze shifts to the others noticing they walked up to the stone. Carving their names into it. Itching it as to be remembered by any and all that will come here. A memorial for those brave enough to attempt this pilgrimage.

Kirk walked up, sighing with the light bit of breath he had in him. Placing 'Kirk Simmons' on the stone along with the rest. Taking a few steps back as he felt as if he might as well just signed his death warrant. This could be the last anyone may hear of him. --However he refuses for his tale to end here.

"This is the place, huh?"

The butler looked over the group. Seeing if they were ready to head in. To fight their way to present an offering to the Red God as a warrior, or a butler in Kirk's case.

"Lets show our dedication, our vigor for this god."

He was ready.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[19:20] It seemed those snow-bone-shoes where the right idea. They gave him purchase in the loose-packed snow drifts all while the great avalanche washed over them. If he'd been alone all he could have hoped to do was survive the cascading snows but he wasn't alone. He was with the rest of the Temple's faithful and that was more than enough to handle the onrushing cascade of the Tarian.

Once they'd pushed through the avalanche the youthful Drakanite decided to just clip the chain of Rune to his belt. Better to have a tough life-line to his fellows just in case another avalanche came hurtling down upon them. Once they'd made it fast that first hurtle the young Gajin barely could contain his excitement.

"This is fantastic, do you feel that? My bloods never been warmer than it is now. The Tarian truly is the greatest place to behold within Esshar." The words echoed from his lips as he glanced upwards at the sparse glimpses of mighty dragons above then looked down to the harsh crags, raw cliff-faces, and endless snow drifts of the Tarian. Where else could one bath in the raw display of primality?

Once they'd reached the door though? Well Gajin couldn't stop himself from rushing forwards towards it. Bouncing on his feet as he searched the names written upon the door for one in particular. He was looking for the name of the first Dragonlord, Seneca V Shar. Though if he found it here he'd know that the disappearance of the old Drake meant they'd came here and died. If he didn't? Well the mystery would remain of what became of him. It didn't take long until he found the name written near the middle of the list. So, that's what had happened to the old demon slayer.

Turning back to his fellows he'd reach into his pocket and pull out a chisel, after all he knew of the myths and legends well enough. "Our name's are going to echo in eternity brothers, sisters, cousins." With that he turned and looked to the wall raising his hammer and going to work in carving his name upon the wall.

Gajin.

He looked upon the name with pride. He'd given up his birth name to carry the glory of Garljing everywhere but in the future when others came to see this wall they would see his name and that of his mighty ancestor all the while. Shifting away he joined back up with the group, helping to push open the gate's as they ventured inwards.

Glory awaited.
(Gajin)
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[19:20] A hurdle on the road, but not one they couldn't overcome. They all got out of the gusts of winds, the avalanche, and the unseen enemies unscattered, pressing onwards to the very peak of the mountain, able to see how the sun covered Esshar in its glow like a warm blanket.

And then, he heard it. For the first time, a dragon's roar- In the back of his own mind, no less.

They have arrived to their destination: Garljing's fortress. A giant monument for the dragons, able to withstand the sheer cold and harsh wings at the very top, emanating heat.

When his eyes see the names carved into the stone, he looks on in wonderment. He can not recognize the name itself, but each of those names is someone who has went through the same path they did, taking the same steps atop the mountain.

He looks on to his companions, waiting for their reactions. Only after Varceal and Orodyn would write their name, before he'll write his- Forming a metallic carving tool with his magic in one hand, and a metal hammer with the other, in order to carve his own name onto to the stone.

Rune Daman

"I believe whatever is waiting for us next, will be the real challenge. Lets steel our hearts, and ready our mind."

(Rune Daman)
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[19:21] As kaishen goes up the mountain the group are swarmed by beasts that produce powerful magic. Kaishen was lucky enough that he knows a bit of magic himself now, so contending would be in his favor. Kaishen blasted the beasts with lava enduced fire, Gravity ontop of that and then some of his own martial arts! This was starting to get the blood pumping he felt ready to go forward now, after having taken care of that stuff. This was going to be rather intense as they now finally reach the top of the mountain.

Kaishen wanted to so bad just to look upon the area. but there was a time and place for things like that, And right now it wasn't the time. Kaishen and the gang joined at the gates of Garljings castle and there were a list of names, it seemed like a lot of people have already been here, but was was he supposed to do with it? Right his own name down?

Kaishen was confused by that but he began to etch his name into the stone. He used magma to encarve his name.



Kaishen...



With that being down he would follow the group into the castle of dragons and boy was his heart pounding, Now the enemy or potential enemy was five times his size. He just hoped that everyone had there head in the game so that we can all make it out alive.

The fear that death could be a thing, Was starting to settle into the mind of kaishen, Would this truly be his last night on Eternia?
(Kaishen)
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[19:22] They brave the blizzard. They overcome the avalanche. Wounds sustained, miscellaneous - unity holding them. Keeping them invigorated regardless of the stakes present.

And by the time they've approached the heights, it no longer feels like the same world as just moments prior. Instead, the alture of the mountain has put Orodyn in a state of faux trance, as his most verbose instances of leadership seem to have abandoned him, leaving in their wake an exclusive sense of devotion to the elder salamanders.

And even in the anaerobic edges of the climb, there's nay an ounce of hesitation. His body moves on its own - like drawn to the lair by a hypnotic mantra, that of the echoing embers of Garljing's distant roar, still quaking the walls between cliffs. Mayhap, the thing that had caused that obscene avalanche to begin with. The red god's chant.

They reach the plain.

An awestruck Orodyn loses himself to the sight. Pupils dilated, golden ichorseeping from the corners of his eyes. Slow, twitching movements of his clawed fingers.

A heart that approaches its own implosion in the strength of its quickening.

His eyes trail down, as he falls over the stone-altar.

Orodyn pursues but one name, that of his father. Had he been here? Was this a story told, at any given time?

Sythaeryn… Sythaeryn… Sythaeryn…?

His own clawed nail, glowing a radiant sacred golden, virtue of his flame, makes a shallow incision into the rock.

Faux runic characters become imprinted at the bottom.

They now read the youngest Dragonlord's name.

ORODYN VARTUUL.

"Be ready to die, my kin. For our red god awaits us... Our tribute is nay one to be left unattended to at the doorstep."

Too bold.

Perhaps, in his obsession, he was willing to sacrifice just a slither of his respect out of bearing witness to Garljing firsthand.

"Balmung, our captive, and the Ring of the Astor... they must all be offered unto him firsthand.

Be brave."
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[19:25] {NARRATION} Orodyn spots that particular name, etched near the bottom a generation ago.

Moving inside, now...

The halls of this massive fortress-cavern aren't what you might expect; it isn't bleak and full of decaying bones and dirt, but elaborate, elegant even - fit ofr an Emperor. The rock has been smoothed down and sanded by dragonflame, almost crystal-like in its design with round pillars of black spiralling up towards the high ceiling, with a light echo in each step one might take. At the entrance there are past tributes-- statues of dragons carved and shaped by fireblooded, and as wide as it is it's a one-way street.

At the end of it there's a narrow door (at least in dragon terms), gemmed with rubies and sigils of written magic. It reads,

'TO PASS BEYOND THE BLOOD OF DRAGONKIN TRUE AND BOLD MUST BE SHED BY THE CLASH OF SPIRITS'

A ward to guard off unwelcome visitors. And those that are welcome may end up becoming food for Garljing regardless, but he wouldn't want to waste his time on bad tasting bite-sized snacks, right?

https://i.imgur.com/iUfwCv1.png
[19:27] Duniya Hintze asks, "why does it smell like frogs...?"
[19:27] Gajin asks, "Maybe Garljing likes their legs?"
[19:29] Rune Daman says, "Blood of dragonkin true and bold, shed by the clash of spirits? It... Sounds to me like it refers to shedding blood through combat."
[19:31] An ominous warning above the gates. It seems that they would have to be fighting something. A clash of spirits? He hoped it was nothing like the rumors of the use of necromancy in the West! The thought of the undead unnerved the youthful smith.

"Well then... Wonder what it means by a clash of spirits? Like... against long departed kin? Or a contest of wills, but written archaically?"

His fingers stroked along the scruff on his face as he contemplated, keeping an eye out for what was around them and what might pop up in turn.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[19:32] They came within the fortress. An elaborate design, a home fit for the finest of kings to live out an eternity of glory and revelry. This was a manor fit for the most hallowed of beings. Perfect for Garljing, the one they sought to make a direct offering to.

"Magnificent... this is like no place I have ever set foot within."

She looked to her sides, toward her kin. To Varceal, and unto Orodyn, then back toward the door that prevented them further passage. The command upon the runes was obscure, but she thought she had an idea of what it meant.

"Another trial?"

Her mask was lifted, and set aside upon a belt at her waist. She did not need to hide her face from the biting cold any longer... and she wanted herself in full glory to be witnessed by the Red God as she faced the challenges that he had put before the fireblooded within his fortress.

"Shed blood by the clash of spirits... well, where are the spirits?"

She looked around, searching for some type of mechanism to release these 'spirits,' so that they could indeed shed their blood in a clash with them.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[19:34] Taking in the giant stone fortress for what it was as they got closer. He looked at the list of names in awe. The inside was grand, smoothed stone and great round pillars within. He keeps himself quiet, trying to light his reed once more. He was eager to take a hit now.

His eyes widen and he lowers himself slowly as other point out what was before them. He already had a slight idea of what was to come.

"Mhm, seems like so."
(Dezmond Graves)
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[19:34] As they ventured inside the youthful dragon couldn't help but appreciate the fact that it was at the very least. Warmer in here at the very least, his gaze shifted from the words on the wall towards Rune.

"Seems like a good time to me. Hopefully though we'll walk out with enough blood to live by the end of it." He couldn't help but be a little excited. Fighting the mountain was one thing but this promised to be something else entirely. His gaze looked around at the ruby incrusted walls curiously.

His hand came up to rub the back of his neck. Just where was the spirits to fight though? "Think we'll run into anyone alive in here that isn't a dragon?" Somehow he didn't think so.
(Gajin)
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[19:34] Once they had stepped in, her eyes momentarily going wide to see the decorations, the marbling of the floors and columns. It was a different sight to behold that held it's own surrealism at every turn, truly, she wouldn't be able to see such treasury like this once again.

Reading, she'd wonder what they meant. Listening idly to the conversation within the group theorizing what it could mean. What ever may come their way, Kaida was consistently prepared, watching the groups back.
(Kaida Ormr)
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[19:35] They pressed further in. Having the daunting gate keep any lesser warriors out. As surely the Red God doesn't take kindly to unworthy people making into his fortress. As he got closer to the gate he felt that feeling from earlier solidify within. He steeled himself for the fights ahead.

His blue hues shift up the hold door. Before just nodding to himself. Ushering a few words of his own.

"Im not sure what this is going to entail, but this isn't going to turn me away. --A trial... We've got this."

His guard remained up. Not letting it down for a moment.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[19:35] Standing inside the entrance, the first term to come from the omnious winds of clashing with spirits.

Was Kuro going to fight spirits just like his father did once? He spoke of how spirits would rile up especially when you bothered their slumber. They could be very nasty and hungry for blood in that case.

A tight grip to his sword as he took in deep breaths trying to quietly listen what may come ahead. Maybe with Tonak's energy magic, he could probably try to sense them out.

"Alright, bring on the spirits."
(Kuro T. Hintze)
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[19:35] While the rubies and sigils of written magic does attract Rune's attention, he takes his time to look around. To appreciate the wonders of the interior, beyond his wildest dreams. Massively sized to fit even dragons, with crystal-like rock decorating the floor, walls, and ceiling.

A marvel of architecture, forged by dragons' hands and breath.

Having already said his mind about the written words, Rune remains silent. From there on, he'll let the leaders of the fireblooded decide what to do next.
(Rune Daman)
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[19:35] The group makes there way into the the castle. And it was something that kaishen never expected from a dragon. He thought when he entered there would be bones from his enimies and blood and the smell of decayed flesh and a pile of gold that the dragon sleeps on. But there were none of those things at first glance. Kaishen walked into something akin to a palace fit for a king, Someone to be respected and definitely worshipped. It was a place that demanded that the person entering understands the rules and follow them or suffer for it.

Kaishen was amazed by how glamourous and prestine this castle was. He never would've thought the might Garljin had a taste for elegancy and proper Etiquette. A small smile would be on his face, but it quickly got back to business, This was definitely something he didn't want to get so caught up in, Not like this. Kaishen wanted to remain focused on the task at hand so that he may live on serving the fireblooded and work at the amazing dragon café.

It would be a heart breaking shame if one of his fellow peers were to go tonight. Kaishen wouldn't know how to process seeing his first dead body, How would it change him, What would become of him after seeing such a traumatic event? Will it be the thing that grows him into a compassionate warrior? Or send him into a fit of darkness and insanity, Not accepting that death is one of the things that comes with being a fireblooded.

again the boy says

"Deep breaths... "

"Deep breaths... "

(Kaishen)
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[19:36] "My old man.." he commented...


The group would move inside and Varceal and although many had questions - he would not, he was a devoted drakanite willing to do anything for his god when the time came to it. "We have reached the home of Garljing and the great Wyrms." He turned to his group. "Be respectful in this holy place - if anyone dared to disrespect you will be left as food for them.." He made it clear not that he expected anyone too - but he gave a warning for good measure.


"Brother - this place.. it's magical." He said looking at the ground and the walls - feeling the heat from the resting drakes within. "Should we have to show our mettle in battle then we shall - there is no problem in that we all knew what we signed up for."

With that Varceal would pull the chain on their prisoner Maradin and force him to kneel before them. "And you will be their meal... you who would oppose them much like those who would call themselves dragonslayers - your fate will be the same...death."
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[19:36] Tonak would walk in with the others. The place was really something. Amazing and well placed. Beautiful was a under statement for such a place. The building was breath taking and he enjoyed it very much.

"Marvelous."

Still it was a lot more to do and explore. Writing down details of the beautiful area.

Tonak look at the name.

"Syth." He chuckle at the man knowing he came so long ago. Only one man got this far or even further. And he knew who that was. The man laugh as he really come where more than not many come. Many Therians wish for this moment. But Tonak can say he fucking made it. Truly it more of a memory to be proud of than many wouldn't understand.

So many gone but not he.

He look to the boys.

"Now its your turn." He whisper at his old age. Tonak would see the area and would know that. With the boys going and ready Tonak just follow behind. Interesting times.
(Tonak Botcher)
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[19:42] "So, we're just chasing your footsteps still...? Hah."

There's a meditative sigh, as he spots the name of the temple's forefather amidst the scriptures. Now, three bearing the blessing of Vartuul had etched his name on this stone.

One had returned - would the other two be as lucky?

The gate greets them. A cavern perhaps too narrow for an ancient one to tread through safely.

The message heeded to, after a pause. Orodyn paces onward, coming to a definite halt to heed his brothers' words.

"You'd be right - the sacrifices start proper at this point."

The spear retrieved from his back, lifted tentatively.

Were they meant to fight one another, shed blood? Would it even be an issue for one who bled for their kin's immunity everyday all the same?

"I'll put my visage forward.

I mind it not, so as long as it grants us all passage.

I am but a representative of what we all must be.

Therefore - my blood will always be no different than yours."

He pauses, the gallant protector. The temple's own scalemail made man.

"Would you not agree?" Zelaously. "I'd rather have our forefather be granted a meal proper, rather than one an inch short of pristine.

As such, I'll shield you from whatever wounds threaten to be cast upon you all."

With a confident grin.

"Tis no more than my purpose here."
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[19:43] {NARRATION} There's a cold chill that passes through the group, the thud of the slave's knees hitting hard, black stone. The gem-covered door stared back out at them as words were exchanged.

Orodyn steps forward for the duel of unsealment; only in Fire and Blood can one gain passage to the lair of the Red God.
[19:45] Rune Daman says, "I'll admit. This isn't what I had in mind when I originally came. But if you need someone to duel with? I'll accept."
[19:45] Varceal Vartuul says, "Tis fine.. rune..- I'll fight my brother.."
[19:45] Varceal Vartuul says, "Faith against Faith.."
[19:45] Duniya Hintze says, "Hmn..."
[19:46] Rune Daman says, "I can't deny, it does sound fitting."
[19:46] Duniya Hintze says, "So that's what it means..."
[19:46] Kirk Simmons says, "I agree... "
[19:59] Varceal would unsheathed his blade half way and hunched forward. "My dear brother there is no one I rather show my faith with - than you.. you have come such a long way.. and you are in every way our old mans spitting image." He explained.

Wings would expand and immense heat would start to emite from the drake. "I am sure with your training and battle prowess you are in every way my equal. It is what I hoped for you. " he continued to rant on about how he hoped that orodyn has surpassed him by now.

"Now our lord questions our fate - I hope that your love for me will show in that good faith - and you would strike me down... but should you fall it only means you still have miles to go."

Blond hair would start to rise as a immense force awakens from the drakes iron grip. "Now.. come show me all that you have learned, show me your faith and devotion to our cause.."

Varceals horns would start to give off plumes of smoke ashe has ended his movements into his stance for a single heavy blow - once the crowd would move out of the way the duel of two brothers would start to commence.

"Give it your all orodyn.. show me that you have earned everything you have been given and that you are my fathers son." There was a smile that crept upon the drakanites face..

And soon the room would grow silent.. His blade would glow as it's taken out its sheath melting both ice and snow now.

This was the way of the desending dragon a stance that took up the raw blessed flames that would spurt from Garljing's own mouth.
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[20:00] Longinus, the obsidian spear, is retrieved with a metallic sound that closely resembles the crackling sound of electricity. And though there's a moment's worth of silence that takes place between him and his brother in a tentative confrontation, that gallant weapon's point falters not in its direction.

The once heart bishop of the Temple, now Dragonlord, speaks without hesitation. That solemn flare of his inching through in full.

"I suppose you are, undoubtedly, the best choice. It would be unwise to tempt Garljing with anything but a challenge between equals."

His hands, still bloodied and frostbitten from the rite and pilgrimage, loom over the weapon.

It lights up, his wings irradiating their exorcist radiance in full.

"I wonder if I'll be able to make you bleed all things considered."

A silent smirk curls at the edge of his lip.

"Come forth, descending dragon! Meet the rising wyrm!"

Brothers clash.
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[20:00] {NARRATION} [Move back, ty!]
[20:03]
{LOAD GAME}

[20:11] Rapidly do both the sons of Sythaeryn clash. Dragons twining in a duel that closely resembles a phantasm of the past.

While Varceal's swift, faux aerial movements in diving and striking very closely resemble a fighting style once made familiar by his father himself? Orodyn's striking seems awfully reminiscent of another. One whom, in the past, would've been called the elder Vartuul's fated rival.

With its own spin on it, the torque, dive and layering of the rising wyrm? It strikes impossibly close to St. Pericles Vitalis' technique. One who had nigh endlessly bested their forefather in combat, with the ultimate resolution allowing for Sythaeryn to come up on top.

Yet - in a scenario that resembles that rivalry at its best, Orodyn breaks into Varceal's guard, forcing his own wounds open in the process, stabbing that spear through his left pectoral without a slither of a doubt.

Only to find... he's completely immune to the wound. The poked hole combusting into flames, leaving nay even a scar in its wake - nor more than a few droplets of bloodshed.

For it's Orodyn's own soul, channeled through Garljing's bestowed will, shielding his brother from all and any harm.

And while he had come out as the victor...? The younger drakanite is a bloodied mess.

Every minor wound stacking. His own vulnerability and spirit of self sacrifice, dooming him to bear the wounds of them both - a promise he stands tall in abiding by.

"... Brother..." He denotes. "I thank you... for honoring me with your blade..."
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[20:20] When those who would sit to find their own and defeats them, Orodyn - was the opposite of Varceal and that was something the drake could be proud of - his slow but heavy and powerful movements could not match orodyn's own speed.

And through out the bout all he could think about was how fast Orodyn has grown into his own man, taking cuts and gashing's that gave him little harm from his brother only for them to be protected by the armor bestowed upon him.

But Orodyn wasn't the only one who was strained from handing out their blessings - through out the fight he would see the physical strain through visible veins upon Varceals face - blackend from the burns of galrjing's blessed flames.

"You move so quickly now."

Varceal said blood dripping from his lip - but still hat same smile would would remain as they seek to find the final blow.. - and when the blade struck it was only Garljings armor that would save him.

Varceal would fall to a knee using his blade as leverage to keep him afloat." ah..hahaha." He stammered. "Very well..- well done.. Orodyn." He said slowly getting back up- only to peer at the gates..

Would it be enough? he wondered.
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[20:21] {NARRATION} [Follow train!]
[20:24] The battle was observed with bated breath. The two Dragonlords surging at one another in single combat, intent on one spilling the blood of another. The weapon that she had forged with Orodyn was capable of ending the life of anyone, even Orodyn, with a well-placed enough strike. He'd have to be careful if he didn't want to slay his own brother.

Part of her wished she could be involved in this battle, but she knew that it was a duty of the dragonlords to carry this particular ritual out.

As Orodyn claims a strike to Varceal's chest, she places a hand over her heart in anticipation... but no injury is claimed... it was something that could have potentially been fatal.

Blood was spilled... but it seemed almost like Orodyn had suffered more, despite being named victor...

She was conflicted.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[20:26] {NARRATION} The flash of the metal spear clashing against the elder brother's longsword was the spark of life the barrier needed, the runic etchings carved into the stone suddenly bright with the duel in front; neither of the two were holding back and whenever the edge of a blade meets skin and sheds that sweet red, the black door shifted apart inch by inch, gradually giving way until the duel's full conclusion.

The rock thundered in its gateway, giving off an echo that beckoned the magi of the pilgrimage inside -

It is bleak within. Even the light of their magic or the flames of their torches seemed to be near snuffed out completely, save for a few flickering embers, much like they were back on the trek up the mountain again while within the dragon's abode. Difficult to see let alone navigate, whether they'd step forward or try to get a better look was as good as anything - but it's the rattling of Balmung in the back, a cursed object as far as dragonkind are concerned, that may be the cause of alarm for most...

Then there's a twist of shadows that slip out from the sword, curling around the ground and taking shape above them - two ruby-like eyes shine in the dark, aglow with malice, "Why is that here...?" The dragonic figure hissed from above, a ghost from the past that was likely one of its victims. "Why are you here? Humans among you... Children and servants..." This figure of malice seemed displeased by the audience, when only the most hardened of fireblood should be permitted entrance...

And it did not intend to talk for much longer. It listens to whatever they have to say before its black fangs of sharp phantasmic energy are beared, sharp and eager to feast on the life energy of those present.
[20:32] The battle raged until the two reached the final bursting the doors open. He stared for a while looking within as the brothers complimented each other on their battle. It was a grand spectacle to behold for sure.

As they moved to head inside, something slips from the shadows. His first thought, is it Evumbran? Is it another dragon from their lineage? He was certain that it was going to be.. catastrophic with Balmung in tow.

His body shifted and he got himself ready stretching his arms out and cracking his neck. Whatever came next was likely going to be talked out peacefully and then put to trial, or first test their might and then hear their reasoning for bringing that blade with them.

To no surprise, he is right.

Sharp fangs are bared and then he in turn readies himself to defend the Fireblooded and complete this next task.
(Dezmond Graves)
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[20:33] The battle of the two brothers was an intense one. A spear versus a sword, but the younger was able to come out victor, even though he took more damage from the loser. The sword they bring as an offering began to react as spirit of malice began to form stopping from them continuing on.

The spirit surely was ready to attack them as if it had no clue of their goal.

"We are here to offer the blade once used to kill dragons, to our lords. The blade that we have longed to obtain for this very moment."

Kuro could only remember the visions and voices that the frozen heart of Skarllax bestowed upon them. Climbing the mountains with the red sword and offer it to their red god.

Feeling the intentions of the spirit, he was already grabbing for his blade in order to protect himself. A quick look over to Kaida, making sure she was also ready to fight back.
(Kuro T. Hintze)
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[20:36] After a harsh impactful battle between brothers, the gate pried itself open. Allowing the group to enter. With a large keep standing tall at the back. Dark embers rose up. Amassing as a large figure. With immediate distain for Kirk and the few other races that were here too. He felt the beast staring him down. Glaring.

The man stood ready incase something happened. Not aiming to upset the beast further he remained silent. His hand firmly held his blade. Ready for the next trial that awaits them

His hues shift, looking at everyone in the group. The butler takes a deep breath, with a large puff of air exiting his mouth. More so than a normal person would. It seemed almost like a dragon exerting stream after releasing its fire breath.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[20:36] A bleak, dark place, where even the light of torches get swallowed through, leaving most of them barely be able to see where they are headed. Rune keeps walking with the rest by trying his best to rely on sight, before the rattling of Balmung started.

And then, shadows that Rune had difficulty to see through the darkness come forth from the sword... And shiny, ruby eyes glare back at them from the dark, clearly visible.

He could sense the malice, the intent to feast, and reflexively reaches a hand to the hilt of his sword- But he doesn't draw, not yet. Just in case the rest might be able to speak with the being and calm it.

The chances are slim, but if those eyes indeed belong to what was once a dragon? Perhaps some of the fireblooded may be able to reach through to him.
(Rune Daman)
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[20:40] Gajin watched the battle with a keen interest. These where some of the mightiest martial warriors alive. One of the spear the other the sword. Not often would he get the chance to see them seeking the other harm or so he believe at-least.

In the end though the bout was settled and the magic had been done. Into the bleakness they'd venture all as one. Into the darkness where only the shades of the dead linger and the past brushes with the present. Darkness had never been the young Drakan's favor. Shadows hid the greatness of oneself from others. What use was it to one seeking to be alike the Dragon's themselves?

It was the rattling of Balmung to the back that shifted his focus in that direction. The damn blade was cursed that was to be sure but something more. It was acting in alarm, what could it- Then came the twinkling of flame-like eyes from the shadows. Then came the words of a beast long lost to the echoes of eternity.

He didn't bother with explaining the sword or even the humans who'd been brought with them. He knew that Varcael or Orodyn would handle it. Each a Dragonlord and the twin-leaders of this expedition. No he was here for simpler things. Like fighting, bleeding, dying. Those where the boons granted to the Heralds of the Great Wyrm.

"The glory of a good death is the gift of those who follow the Red God."

The words weren't shouted more akin to a whisper from the young Herald. It was a small prayer to the Red God. One unlikely to be heard but one that needed said regardless. He'd fight and bleed for the Temple and now he was facing one of their gods. A dead one but as the Sirenans said once before. A god cannot truly die.

Reaching up to his back the youth's fingers curled around the leather bound hilt of his scimitar. Pulling it free slowly in the darkness, the sound of mithril on steel as it excited the scabbard was the signal that he was reading himself for the next trial.

Quietly he began to push forward in the throng of Fireblooded. Ready to take the first brunt of any violence. To shield his brothers, sisters, and cousins of the faith so that they'd have a greater chance of finishing their divinely mandated quest.
(Gajin)
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[20:40] She watched the battle between the brothers, their fight was outstanding and meaningful, concluding with Varceal spilling his own blood. Bittersweet, the doors slowly open, allowing the group passage through.

On the other side, they're greeted by a massive legend, it's visage intimidating to the Ormr. Yet being beside her fellow kin, there was will and strength to be found within. Believing in the purpose of their venture here, all the pain she'd endure.

Instinctively reaching for her staff, watching the legends' maw, she was prepared to meet what fate had in store for her. She awaits for orders before unsheathing, emerald hues keeping an eye out for their surroundings.
(Kaida Ormr)
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[20:40] Just what he expected of a battle of blood between brothers. He wouldn't say the Lord didn't care his kids. But Garljing was not one to simply show mercy. If you couldn't handle such cases it was best to walk away and avoid the flames.

Tonak on the other hand.

As they move on he stayed close. Though they come the many halls filled of dark he just hum to himself.

As they came and saw the treasure. Tonak was impressed. He expected such a thing. But he would have to admit. It was a strange artifact. Though as the beast emerged Tonak would look over himself.

"Human." He check his tail and ears.

"..."

Silence as he would sigh. "Its best to show than tell correct?" The man take stance as he would come to see this was another example of what he had to overcome.
(Tonak Botcher)
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[20:40] The maw opens.

Gates slide, winding up to their next challenge. Bowls of embers alit, beckoning forth those who had cast their blood in Garljing's name. A bloodied Drakanite, Orodyn, supports the weight he can't bear as idle on Duniya's shoulder - making ample effort to tread onwards, even in spite of their opposed duality.

Still bloodied and seared, molten wounds from Varceal's blade open. His head tilts, resting over her shoulder for an instant, as he takes in what could possibly be the last he sought of warmth in the realm of the living.

The corrupted phantasm intervenes.

Longinus gleaming, yet again - as the younger dragonlord sees himself dispersed from the Task-descendant, recomposing his balance. Making one final push.

"It is... our offering... to our red god." The weakened drakanite retorts, guard raised in straining.

To retribute, to further prove. They are attacked.

"So be it...!" It was time to cleanse.

Reality narrowly escapes him. He is far too lightheaded.

It changes nothing.

He's fully prepared to forfeit his life here.
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[20:40] That was a thrilling battle!

Of course, Okri always thought they were thrilling battles. To see steel against steel, the clash of two kin to prove themselves before their god. It was but another test for the Fireblood, one they had overcome with their sacrifice.

Of course, what came next was something he never saw coming but should have expected. A shadowy dragon, out for blood. Or rather, out for those that dared defiled the temple. It would be hard to explain that they were not enemies of the dragon when they had both a dragonslayer and ancestral weapon meant to kill dragons in tow.

But it would not be enough to explain themselves, or even justify.

The Shadowy figure was hostile, ready to attack at a moment's notice. Wild wavings of his hands as he gestured to the secured blade and captive human. The motor mouth of Okri running at maximum speed.

"Ach! It ain't like that! Just offerings to Garljing! Only he-"

But it mattered not. Conflict was upon them. As it went.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[20:42] Varceal still bloodied from the battle before would stand tall as the shadow of a drake would show it's self to the group. To have fear now? - after all they have been through..To give up to a single great wyrm casted by shadow and malice it's self.

"Oh mighty dragon- we seek to bring the blade to garljing himself as tribute." He spoke while digging into his coat pocket and take out a still beating heart... - he stared at the heart of Skarlax.

What.. are you?

"Listen well Mighty Wyrm.." He said looking back up to the ruby eyes of the wrathful being in front of them. "Although you may think of us as unworthy to pass - although you may want to dispose of this gift we bring to garljing himself."

As the heart of Skarlax his hidden back into his cloak he would grip hard onto the handle of his blade. "I won't let you step in our way mighty lord of drakes, I must finish this trial - bestowed upon me... Let us pass." He asked.

But the being would know he was ready to strike it down should it moved closer - Varceal would not let this trial end here not by a long shot.

Man?...Dragon?.. who are you..

There was plenty of trials that he had to go through - from the witches to the machine and even the tribes he would stand tall and prevail every last one of them and has been doing some thus far, to be stopped here..would be to let all of that go to waste.

"Don't..get in our way." and now that wandering stare would turn into a glare and fangs would be shown in a smug smile at the drake - He was ready to strike them down, regardless.
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[20:44] As their journey set them forward, and they had been brought upon a new chamber, suddenly, something happened unexpected. All light was snuffed out. Darkness. Rattling...

Her only reprieve was the faint light of the wounded man leaning on her to press forward.

A bellowing voice of a being twisted by shadow. Slain by Balmung, perhaps. Demanding to know why they had all brought it there, alongside humans, beastkin, children... She'd not speak to the dragon, simply fall back into the dark.

I am still unworthy.

The malice wrought by the vengeful beast caused her to sink deeper within the shadows of her own soul. Whispers, suggesting things that should not be done. Telling falsehoods that they claimed as truths. It was all something that served to increase her power... yet it would erode as well at her mind.

I will die here.

Her eyes were wide, and her hands clenched themselves shut, claws digging into scaled palms. Garljing's blessing couldn't keep her away from darkness such as this. The pull on her life energy was responded with in kind, as she began to familiarize herself with the energy of this dragonic spirit.

None of us will survive this.

"...A fallen forefather... destroyed by hate and ignorance... set in our path to prevent our passage..."

Her mind started to wander into darkness. Insecurities, weakness, despair... they all started to creep in upon her.

Nothing can be done now.

"...all is not lost... all is not lost... all is not lost..."

Desperately, she tried to beat back the dark. The thoughts that weren't her own. Verbally, she tried to talk herself through the agonizing darkness that had such a firm grip upon her soul. But it was so strong, so thick in the air that it was suffocating her beneath it. Would this encounter smother and snuff out the real Duniya?

As the bright-winged drakanite that leant upon her shoulder spoke, and brought himself to his own feet, her senses began to ring. Her whole body began to ache and burn. His words and admirable action, wrought by the light within him, while painful, wrested her from this despairing cycle.

The fog cleared, her eyes tried to fixate on the source of the voice. There was no way that this creature was a living dragon. No longer sacred, fallen to darkness and death... if it would stand in their way, it needed to be vanquished.

Her hand was on her weapon... for the first time, finding solace in the light, even if it were painful.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[20:44] Here it was, this was it. Kaishens first look at a real life dragon and this one seemed incredibly powerful, Akin to a god. The fear set in as the dragons shadowy figure would coil around there lizard like body and manifest a dark energy. Kaishen was taken back by this, he did not know how to approach this best. There was just so much power, such overwhelming pressure from this creature that approach was out of the question, But it seemed that it was on the verge of attack and the young drakanite had to be ready.

His legs started to tremble....


His hands began to numb.


He was afraid, very,very afraid. He asks himself.

"My...body...why won't it move.. "

In a low whisper, He was slipping his grip on battle fading, the idea of dying a gruesome death by the teeth of this beast was the most terrifying thing he's ever had to come to realize. Was this truly it? Was he going to meet his end by getting eaten?

Kaishen couldn't believe this, He couldn't process it. He was way in over his head, thinking he could take on a dragon, A dragon with such a powerful aura at that. Maybe he wasn't worthy, Maybe he was just sheep playing with wolves..

Maybe...

Maybe he just...wasn't ready....

His mind stayed in the snake pit, He was bound to make a mistake that could end up costing him his life. Being careful just wasn't enough when it came to situations like this, You had to be alert with pin point attention to everything coming at you, The slightest wrong move could be an early grave at the age of sixteen. Was anyone else afraid, Was it just him? no surely someone had to feel the same way he feels now. He'd look over to varceal and kirk, Seeing there facial expressions may help him through this, Knowing full well he can't just rely on other peoples emotions to get him going, This was it.

Again.. the boy says in a tremble as it feels like his throat had just been filled with cotton and his chest coils as if a anaconda was squeezing the very life essence from his body.

"D-..deep..b-..breaths.. "
"D-..deep..b-..breaths.. "


(Kaishen)
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[20:45] {NARRATION} OOC -

ENGAGEMENT - 3 FIGHTS. KO = ROLL. 3 OR LESS ON FIRST KO = TEMP. 3 OR LESS WITH TEMP = PERM.

FRIENDLY FIRE ACTIVATING . . .

TYPE /TEAM 1
[20:46] {Item} You picked up Levitation Potion..
[20:47] Kaida Ormr says, "just a hair for me"
[20:47] {NARRATION} COUNTING DOWN ...
[20:52] {NARRATION} The flames of rage twirl around the shadowy beast as it engulfs the magi, becoming more dense and violent - its tendrils of shadow spreading out throughout the castle, a chase ensuing. They're scattered throughout the fortress during it. [Round two beginning...]
[20:54] {NARRATION} [Extreme Mode Activated. Counting down in roughly 60 seconds.]
[20:54] Dezmond Graves says, "Mmm... danger."
[20:55] Gajin says, "No Fear."
[21:04] {NARRATION} The incorporeal form of the cursed dragon spirit pursued from every angle, filling the lair of Garljing with its ever twisting shadows that were like a thousand malleable limbs assaulting the Fireblooded- Not just dousing them in occultic burns, but deafening their spirits with an oppressive aura that might just make them regret stepping into the temple unless they were absolutely determined and stalwart.

It is a battle for their lives.

This guard dog of the fortress was brought about by the relic and the presence of humans.
Would Garljing, the Red God, be similarily unkind?

It was only fitting then that the one who struck the last blow to send the shadow serpent back to the netherworld was Desmond, a bearer of its own magic- Meeting fire with fire. Or in this case, the occultic shadows.


By the time the group emerge, they're no longer together. The battle was a long affair, at least ten minutes, and it had them running and ducking and weaving through wide caverns and beyond -

They've been split up.

By Fate.

Choose:
FAMILY
DEATH
KNOWLEDGE


What lures you in?
[21:06] {NARRATION} [Family to the far left, death in the center, knowledge to the right - just to make organizing easier, once you've roleplayed or prior.]
[21:11] The battle was a difficult, through not an impossible one. While the entity was able to strike and lash out at all of them at once with occultic energy, there were more than plenty of them to retaliate. To fight back, and even defend one another from the dragon spirit's barrage.

However, the dragon spirit has succeeded in one aspect of the fight: It managed to split them up, in an attempt to avoid its blows by going through the caverns.

At least, now that the battle is done, he can try and find the others.

"Hello?!" Rune shouts, hoping those nearby might hear him. "If anyone hears me, shout back! I'll come to you!"
(Rune Daman)
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[21:12] Having found her resolve, she'd fight at full capacity alongside her brothers and sisters of flame. This serpent, born of the darkness of the past, was the perfect opponent to test her mental fortitude upon.

The battle was a long one, and terrifying to be sure. The guardian of the caverns was brought low through their efforts. It was Dezmond that secured the final blow... Luckily, through sheer determination and adeptness with the same magics that the dragon was born from, she got through without much more than a messed hairdo and a bloody nose.

It spanned many minutes, drawing on in agonizing fashion, leading her to be separated from most of the expedition team. The shadows started to encroach on her mind once again.

Now she was lost, drawn into a cavern by DEATH. Her fear of it. The fear of losing the ones she loved. Perhaps even the terror that came with how agonizingly her forefathers died due to the same affliction that she had. Hades and Valero Task, both brought low by their brother, their familial ties severed by darkness and the demonic.

Whispers started to creep in once again.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[21:13] What lured him in?

Knowledge!

How to be the best damn smith that he could be!

After all, he wasn't much good for anything else, as evident by the poor showing in the fight against the shadowy dragon of the past. All he could do was run around, avoiding the attacks and doing minimal amounts of damage to the thing.

It was only by pure luck that he managed to not get a large chunk bitten out of him.

With that entailed...

Okri could not turn down the chance to learn something. Perhaps it was a scattered tome that caught his eye as he dodged the beams of pure darkness. Or perhaps it was a rather mystifying rune in the corner but...

He found himself separated from the group as a whole. Sent down a path, twisting away from all.

"...Hello? Anyone out there? It's Okri! I think... I think I am a bit lost!"

A voice echoing in the distant caverns as he simply moved to investigate his own path. A snap of his fingers and the dim light of the forge rolled out from his form and into the unknown.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[21:15] Dezmond, the ascending lorekeeper, delivers cleansing to the restless dragon. The relic becomes inactive, the shadows swallow them whole.

But what is Orodyn if not determinate? What is he if not willing to risk it all without paying it a second thought? The prospect of becoming retributed to the Red God, too great now for anyone to hinder his treading. The spear now functions as a cane-like rod, one he uses to proper relieve part of the strain from his battered hips. His cervix struggles to torque, yet that aid is relegated to his arms - they still stand strong.

What is Orodyn, if not a man completely endowed to his dependability? What is he, if not a protector through and through? Be it of his lineage, his peers, or his pride?

And though family may lure him in? It's his peace made with the prospect of self sacrifice that captures him at the end.

Death?

So be it.
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[21:15] Tonak battle as he might. The ookami was now on the brink as he would look at the shadow dragon power. The man simply was trying to keep up but he would not be able to.

"You kids be safe!"

He say as the explosion send him flying off in the center.

As much as he tried.

"Kirk! Take care of the others!"

The man said as the shadows swallowed him in.

Tonak craved knowledge. But at the end of things. The man was drawn to the very thing he expect would come one day.

'Death'
(Tonak Botcher)
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[21:16] Rushing within the shadows he gives a quick glance to Kuro and Duniya, they'd know what to do in this instance. A berserker like rush charging with his leg raised high as he twirls slamming it down right into the dragons side.

Tough scales of shadow and occult hinder his kick, and before he could follow up a blast of decay and despair blast him backwards. His wings catch him and his teeth grind together. His brothers attack in unison, a grand cacophony of explosions and roaring flames deafen those trying to give orders to one another.

He drives in through rupturing stone and rumbling occultic beams.

It was the wise thing to do to earlier to prep himself for the attack, he was looking for a moment where the shadow was whole, tangible. The grand hulking mass swooped in aiming to finish off Tonak, Kirk, and those who fell among the blasts.

"We come bearing tribute..."

He says as a small black dragon formed around his right arm slitheringlike a serpant. It grew insize as he pumped his mana into it, feeding the beast and preparing for a counter attack to end it once and for all.

In the blink of an eye he dashes into the dark becoming one with the shadows emerging from below striking the dragon in its maw sending it back into the darkness as his grand dragon roared tearing it to bits.

"We come with a mission given to the Fireblooded!"

He roars as it dissipates.

Suddenly he look around, and he was near a smaller force than before. Running down the center cavern now, he wondered if some other trap had been triggered. Wailing of banshees and cries, roars, of dying dragons bellow from the cavern he chose.

A chilling sensation ran down his spine, but he continued diving into the deep, the dark.

The abyss.
(Dezmond Graves)
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[21:20] His wish was granted from the start! That monstrous wraith struck out with the fury of a god as it sought battle with the most hardened and powerful of Garljing's Coat. It'd been offended at the presence of humans and the artifact but what did that mean truly? Where the humans themselves impure and unworthy of Garljing's favor?

The thought was struck out of his mind as soon as he'd had it. Hit with a powerful blast of occultic mists. Gritting his teeth the youthful warrior brought his sword to bear against the wraith. Only the nature of its myhtril structure giving it any purpose against the beast of shadow and spirit.

It soon felt as if he where fighting the room itself not just one thing. It was always like this when he battled those who dabbled in darkness. Where his blade struck shadows would rend and repair themselves. Then there was the sight of those beady-ruby eyes just before him. With a clacking of jagged teeth the youth leaptforwards, wings pushing off against the ground as spikes sprouted from his draconic tail. Once he was close enough those great wings twisted in the air, propelling him like a spinning missile in-between those eyes.

Know he'd know if he was strong enough to rage against the Dragon!

Yet, he struck nothing instead he came out like a cannon ball to thud against Okri! The youth's spikey frame no doubt a threat to the smith but by this point Gajin's attempts at correcting his flight path had eased up. Though he struck the older drakanite with more than enough force to knock.

"Wha- WHO?! WHERE'S THE WRAITH!?"

He'd pick himself up off the ground where he landed and start to quickly look around the area. Where was he? Where was anyone else for that matter. Then he looked over to Cousin Okri.

"Cousin Okri? You alright?"

It seems the young Drake had a curious mind underneath all those violent tendencies for he'd been hurtled upon the path of Knowledge. A curious affair to be sure.
(Gajin)
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[21:21] {Item} You picked up Levitation Potion..
[21:23] {NARRATION} The maze-like lair of Garljing is where they explore, time passing until they eventually regroup - split into three large groups. So much was buried and lost here over the centuries, that even the dragons themselves no longer kept track of what was what- After all, it was a fortress carved inside of a mountain, and most of the tunnels that had been built by the children of the Red God where twisting and winding.

Those who chose 'family' would find themselves south-west, able to hear one another's footsteps soon enough. It is a tomb of humans, drakanites. A few past Sluthian heroes and envoys, the one tribute to the drakan kind was in here. There's a few armored, skeletal men that had passed from this world laid out against the wall -
- Something in particular would catch Varceal's eye. The clothes of his father, and a skeleton that was broad and tall, the man himself, dead. In his hands there's a dragonblade, Vartuul's Vengeance.

'Death' was a burial ground for dragons. Large skeletons were occupied in a massive, unending room, most of the remains thrice the size of an elephant.
- It is Duniya who knocks into something peculiar. An abandoned dragon egg with a cracked, foul shell. If she picks it up, the other three would soon notice and group around her. It felt tainted to the touch, and naturally drew in shadowmancers and occultists.


And the final room, knowledge, was a small hideout, a crack in the corner that Gajin and Okri finds themselves in. There the two find another skeleton - this place has a lot of dead people, right? - a man hunched over a desk, where there's a runic scroll that details 'dragonforging' that they can each take should they be drawn to it. One for the duo.


... Now, where is Garljing?
It's far too quiet.
[21:29] Wandering through the burial grounds of dragons, Duniya finds herself stumbled into an egg. At first, she believed it to be a stone, but she inspected it very closely, drawn into it by her natural magics. In wonderment, she lifts it into her hands, running them alongside it. How long had this egg been here?

Cracked, and dessicated… was there any hope of tapping into the life that would have been? Perhaps not. But it was fate that she stumbled upon it.

The remains of the dragons around her were causing her many unpleasant sensations, the whispering in her mind beating at her sensibilities. Telling her that this, too, would be her grave. But she'd listen not, instead she would gaze upon this child that had never been allowed to blossom. Forgotten by time and lost in a graveyard.

"...What a magnificent emperor you would have been..."

Despair set in her heart at the thought.

"No... perhaps, one that you still may be..."

It shouldn't have been long before everyone else found her, looking to her fellow fireblooded with a concerned look on her face.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[21:30] Yep.

Tonak would be stuck with what the three drakanites of darkness, shadow and light. Hmmm how would this play out.

The ookami shook his head.

"Man that really smarts.

As he look and see the egg and then would already know that scent. "Oh fuck."
(Tonak Botcher)
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[21:31] Gajin's first thought was to look around the small crack they found themselves in. After all at the heart of it he was a warrior of high caliber. His scimitar was a short blade and it'd do well in these tight tunnels. He kept a glance on Okri, ready to keep the smith safe should danger erupt.

Yet, he found nothing just cracked stone and earth as far as he could see. If he'd been of a different persuasion he might have felt closterphobic in the place. He was attuned to the earth however slightly and so he'd instead feel a sense of peace.

This crack was far to small for a Dragon to hide in. Well unless they found a small drake of some kind anyways. His softly glowing sienna hues shifted towards what appeared to be a long dead writer?

"Cousin Okri, if you spot anything dangerous looking let me but what's that?"

As he said the words he walked forwards. Laying a hand upon the dead scribe's shoulder Gajin would pulse magic through his bones. Taking control of them as easily as if they'd been his own. In a rather janky and comical display he urged them to straighten. Locking the bones in place so that the skeleton would maintain a permanent regal visage. As if he lived working away at the desk forever.

"There we go old timer."

He then shifted to look at the scroll, curiously. "Now what's this..."
(Gajin)
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[21:33] And like that, a familiar face bumped into Okri.

Gajin was here with him! He wasn't sure what drew the youth down the twisting corridors with him, but it was nice to see a friendly face in a dark place. Granted, a face he could see after picking himself up from the dust.

Okri was, all in all, largely unharmed save for some singed leathers. A thumbs up to Gajin as he shone some light about the room, "Aye, I'm alright. Cousin Bardin used to tell me about places like this. Dark crypts and corridors within the mountain. Granted, he also said this was the place that foul creatures liked to lurk, much like hulking ratmen and undead wraiths. Best be on our guard... Actually, this seems to relate to a story he told me.

See.. Once, he slipped on a rock while climbing and..."

And so, Okri would ramble and ramble, telling of some irrelevant story to their predicament, his gaze looking over the strange room they were in. It was a small hideout, likely a hidden study for someone. A hunched skeleton, a desk and a scroll.

A careful glance at the strange scroll, his eyes trying to make sense of the runes as he inspected it carefully. It was hard to tell the age of the parchment and if it would break upon his first touch.

"Curious place, aye? Scroll seems... well, has some interesting stuff on it, but I worry about it breaking if I touch. Think it'll be fine, cousin? I wonder if I have a preservat-"

And then Gajin seemed to... move the skeleton. The short drakanite hopped back from the teen, blinking.

"Stones of Garljing, what was that? Cousin Gajin, please don't tell me you're one of those rumored neck-romancers! Some vile and foul stuff, I heard!"
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[21:33] As they descend deeper and deeper, death showed to be true to that. It was a burial grounds. Once he could recognize the surroundings he'd come to see what he was around. Skeletons, dragon skeletons.

They observe what is around they move close to the bones, moving towards nothing in particular. His hands slink into his pockets as Duniya comes across something and they come to crowd around her.

"Looks hard as stone.."

Listening to Duniya he looks at her a moment, and then to the egg. Was he understanding what she just said..? While he thought of what could come of it.. he figured occultic dragons had to be born somehow.

"Good luck with that." He wasn't certain if this would stir something catastrophic later on down the line. Who knew how long it took petrified dragon eggs to hatch anyway, or how to.
(Dezmond Graves)
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[21:35] They forge their way out, thus coming to meet the hallowed grounds - at which the cemetery greets them. Eyes that silently fall across the place. A decisive nod cast at Duniya once the egg is held onto.

It's transmundane influence, still a nuisance to him. But not one radiant enough to displease him proper.

For it was at this point his allegiances came into conflict and neutrality. Would the occult override his appraisal for dragonkind at all? The forefathers and divines he believed them to be and followed them as?

Nay.

"We shan't let him pass as his eld have.

He'll retribute, Dun. We'll allow as much."

Silence, as he takes in the quietude. Orodyn leans down, touching upon the soil, digits slowly treading over its surface.

The burial ground, arid.

"Could it be...?"

He checks the ground's indentures - something off. Were they... directly in contact with the crimson eldkin already?

"Red God..!?

Art thou here!?"
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[21:38] Gajin blinked his gaze shifting towards Okri in surprise! Him a Neck-romancer? "Well I mean there was that village gir- Oh!" He then blinked wait the older man had meant NECROMANCER. With a cough to the side Gajin quickly covered up his words.

"N-no, just a bonemancer cousin Okri." As he said the words he'd simply cause spikes of pure ivory to spread forth from his skin. Small rivulets of blood spattered upon them. It was a gruesome sight but nothing quite so horrendous as necromancy.

He then shifted his gaze towards the Parchement. "Anyways! I believe we should try and copy it first or something." Shame neither was a time magi.
(Gajin)
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[21:39] {Item} You picked up Dragonforging Scroll..
[21:39] {Item} You drop Dragonforging Scroll.
[21:39] {Item} You picked up Dragonforging Scroll. Dropped by Gajin..
[21:49] Oh, that was good. He wasn't sure what to do if Gajin was a necromancer proper. If anything, it likely meant that there would only be one of them walking out of this place.

Still, the scroll?

There was a glance over the both of them, a careful examination of each before he looked at Gajin, gently picking one up to tuck in his satchel.

"It looks... Well, they look unique. I can already see a couple key runes that are different on each. Thinking each one is a unique incantation to bind an item to yourself.

So, you get one use. Maybe I can try to make some items and try to replicate but... that'll take time."

Still, they were alone in the hideout with the macabre display. The upright skeleton, writing something in his final moments, and Gajin looking like a bone-wrought horror. But they were alone, and still separated from the group. What would follow was likely danger and risk of some kind.

"Grab the other scroll,we need to find our kin. Lest something lurking in the tunnels grab us and drag us to some awful place."
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[21:51] {NARRATION} Some time passes. It's a brief moment of reprieve, isn't it?

... The walls around you are rattled by the roar of a dragon, no, the entire mountain was alive with the piercing, deep sound that shook stone ...

It's coming from the north - the split groups will rejoin if they follow the sound, right into an exit that peaked out of the fortress and up on a long, winding staircase that peaked towards the very stars given the height. The atmosphere was thin, and... there's something there, in the distance ----
[21:52] {NARRATION} [Follow train]
[22:00] Bone-wrought horror indeed, Gajin really was kind of un-nerving when putting his unique magical attunements on display. Truly he was nothing but a mess of bone and muscle when it came to his magics.

"Sounds good Cousin. Though it all looks like gibberish to me care to explain it if we get off this mountain?"

As he asked his focus shifted from the scroll to Okri. It seemed that the youths focus had shifted from this event. Perhaps there'd be a time when Gajin was known for his works of art as much as for his zeal for conflict.

That's when that piercing scream echoed in the fortress. Really Gajin was thankful that he had such a mastery over his own bones. As his ear cannels closed themselves against the bone rattling noise. A shame he could do that for his cousin but alas.

"C'mon! I bet that's Garljing!"

With that the young Gajin started off no doubt with Okri at his side. Towards the sound until they'd find themselves winding along an ancient staircase. Winding all the way to the stars themselves. Where they getting closer to the peak of mount Tarian?

Along the way it seemed they'd rejoined the main group. Where had they wound up? His thought was left unasked for the moment. Fate had sent each to their own devices and it wasn't his place to question it. At-least not right now.

Besides with how thin the air was getting he didn't want to waste his breath with useless questioning. His gaze traveled from the stars to the distances what was that? Eyes narrowing to meer slits as he brought a hand up to shield his gaze from the winds.

Was that a giant red-

"Oh my god."

The words left his lips involuntarily and perhaps a bit prophetically should his suspicion prove true.
(Gajin)
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[22:00] * You have been awarded 2 Roleplay Points! *
[22:02] The roar was the way out. Through the tunnels it echoed, like a guiding beacon to the faithful. Okri had never heard it before in his life but... He knew exactly what it meant. A call from their god. From the red son of Ryujin.

From ~~Garjling~~ Garljing.

"Come, come, Gajin. Looks like this is the path to ou- Aye, seems you've got the path!"

And like that, he was off, following his wayward companion. So separated from the group, they found themselves rejoining one another as they went. All of them moving up through the tunnels and corridors of the cave to one place, one sacred place.

To the presence of the great Red God. To the very awe-inspiring visage of Garljing himself. An icon to the drakanites living upon Tarian, to his faithful that now visit him. Never before did the short drakanite think he would glimpse their deity.

And all he could do was wave, smiling wide.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[22:03] As the walls rattle and a roar loud enough to rumble the stone and bones in the grave he looked around. They began to move toward the exit quickly. The mountain shook, the sound grew stronger as they moved forward.

It was strange, with each step they took forward it grew warmer. A heat like none other, greater than the mouth of a volcano. He emerges from within the fortress to come and see a grand red dragon..

He was stunned, staring at Garjling.

Uncertain of what to do in this moment he puts his joint away, just incase.
(Dezmond Graves)
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[22:03] Picking himself up from the previous battle, he was starting to feel exhausted from the venture, but with Kaida they had to continue venturing. Their last step was to meet with their red god.

Kuro traveled with the group after seeing Varceal find a sword upon some body remains. They followed a specific voice onward until meeting up with the whole group.

From a distance something could be heard. It was faint but they were sure it was him, their god. Off they went to continue moving forward until they reached somewhere high on the mountains, the red god himself.

What beautiful wings their god had, nothing compared to the half shifts that drakanites were allowed to do.
(Kuro T. Hintze)
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[22:06] The butler after a while managed to regroup with some of the others. Making his way down the crypt. His blue hues making sure to give a quick glance to each and every one of the caskets. Before making his way past into the main corridor. All the others seemingly meeting all at the final chamber.

A fiery presence extruded from beyond the door. He calms himself down as he has a feeling that beyond the door was Garljing himself.

They all opened the door to see a large towering dragon. Crimson red and fire encased his body. Surely this was the 'Red God'. A smile crossed his face as he got closer with the group.

Ushering to himself.

"That's Garljing… quite impressive."

He remained behind Varceal and the others. Since he was here to assist with their task of getting here safely.

"A powerful being, Indeed."

Kirk said before just simply basking in his glory. Hoping nothing more breaks out. He remained still a little on guard. However they should bestow enough graces for the group as so he shouldn't be mad. Well he thinks.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[22:06] Kaishen would come into the castle. Fight the previous dragon kaishen was no ready to face another. But this one, Wow this one beat the other one by a mile! The last one seemed to not even compare to this. Kaishen wouldn't shy away this time, All though he was still very shaky about it he knew he had the power to fight this raging beast of a dragon. The red god as we call it.

Garljing himself..

This was the dragon that the fireblooded worshipped and to be in its presence meant something great, It was surely an honor to be here, And honor to be apart of something fantastic. Kaishen couldn't be more proud of himself that he managed to survive and get this far into the expedition.

It was a long journey but the real battle has only just begun.

Kaishen flapped his wings as gusts of wind came from them, And getting into a stance, Preparing to face off against this godly beast. The morale boost he has from beating the previous dragon was taking in effect. However that fear never left his body, It just was honed into being incredibly careful not to make a mistake in this kind of situation. This time though he didn't take a deep breath, this time kaishen said to himself.

"I'm ready.."

And with that the young man would closed his fists and prepared for what's to come, even if he totally wasn't prepared at all.
(Kaishen)
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[22:08] Through the wake of the red god - the flamed wings of red the over flowing feel of rage with each beat of massive wings, the immense heat that would make one forget that they were even in snow...

Garljing has come at last.


Once the winged red god would make it's approach to him and his group Varceal would command. "KNEEL... OUR GOD HAS COME AT LAST!." He demanded that they all gave they respects to him.. that they would all kneel in his sight.

And with that Varceal would kneel bowing his head down only to lay out their offerings in front of them.

One life who would oppose his kind Marridian

The returned son in which has given them the guidance to come and seek their red god.

And one sword who have slain many of their brothers taken from the hands of humans and those who would seek his death."

"Might red god, accept these tributes and know that your makings are forever faithful to your cause - know that the destruction we bring is in your name and your name alone.."

There wasn't fear.. the overwhelming sense of pride had come over Varceal to make it to this very place, to see as his father did - a god... in the flesh.

"May you regin forever as the emperor of the flame.."

With that Varceal would wait to see what would happened with these tributes offered to the red god.
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[22:09] Their journey was coming to a close. After thundering roar, they are all drawn down one pathway to meet one another once again. She walked slower than the rest. The egg was in her possession, and she would not allow any further damage to become of it. This was a sacred object, one that she would not allow to go under further harm.

As they came to the end of the path, all of them were united and together. Up the staircase, to the very reaches of the tower. At the top of which resides the one the sought. The Red Son... the one who burnt her forefather alive upon their first meeting.

She knew that this egg would be safe, but set it aside for a point, in a spot that should not have been reached by the extent of His flames.

Her heart sunk in his wake. Her hands even trembled a small bit.

"The memory of a life time..."

Even if these would be their very final moments, she'd have no regrets here. Being among the very few whom stood and kneltin front of Garljing was every fireblooded's dream. She'd made the pilgrimage... and finally, whether or not he obliterated them all, she had earned her name.

The woman fell to her knees, bowing her head before the Red God.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[22:09] Kaida follows the side beside Kuro, venturing further until they had left through an exit of the fortress. The stars above and everything seemingly below.

Another beautiful sight the Ormr would allow herself the moment to admire, being able to stand atop... Surreal.

Meeting everyone, she felt more relieved they were all back together, that is... Until they'd be faced with a large legend that was made out of fire and intense heat.

She could only assume this was Garljing himself... The mutters and reactions from the others, it was confirmed. The red god they had set out to seek, part of the Ormr felt fear instill... And at the same time, a large amount of respect, in which, she does even before either of the Vartuul's would order.
(Kaida Ormr)
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[22:10] Kirk kneels to the red god after Varceal demanded.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[22:10] And his calling answers.

They reach the peaks. They reconvene - Orodyn's stare obsessively pursues the figure of his older brother. Much to his dismay, the awestruck drakanite finds nay the countenance and mane he had once become acquainted with, but a proper legacy.

Varceal, coming into his own - embracing the embers of Sythaeryn's legacy. His battle spirit, and imposing figure. They now all live through the alabastre-haired drakanite.

"Brother..." Vartuul's Revenge, it rests at his hip. He recognizes it immediately - a blade that had been used to punish him and his junior in their rough upbringing for so long. A tool of legend.

All present.

Would Orodyn live up to his half just as Varceal had his?

That train of thought breaks with the roar.

He shows.

The red god, no longer an infinite, unattainable goal to beseech to. No longeran irredeemably far-off destination in ascent. Their pilgrimage had taken them to the maw of their god.

They were in, be it by allowance, or by proof of worth.

Orodyn, the one who had seen the gates opened, dies down to his knees. A cry of importunity leaving his tender instrument. The dragoon, revering the crimson divine in all of its glory.

"MY GOD!

GARLJING, YOU WHO HAVE BESTOWED AN OUNCE OF YOU WILL UNTO US ALL!" The bearer of his blessing denotes.

"WE BRING TO YOU, AND YOUR NAME... RETRIBUTION! OUR BEARINGS. THOSE WHICH WE HAVE STRIVED FOR IN YOUR NAME, AND ATTAINED!

THE HERALDS OF HERETICS!"

Along with Balmung, the corpse of an offender. Next to it, the Noble Family's relic ring - yet another sacrifice in reverence.

Renown in them.

"I BEG, WERE THESE SPOILS NAY ENOUGH FOR THEE, O MIGHTY RED ONE?

THEN I BEG TAKE MY LIFE IN TURN!

FOR I WILL GLADLY BECOME COAL FOR THINE BLAZE!"
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[22:10] Gajin oh right kneel, needless to say the youthful Gajin hit the deck so hard his forehead cracked the stone.
(Gajin)
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[22:11] Walking through the tunnels after finding Kirk, they walked into a tomb for fallen drakanites and humans. Those who were loyal to the dragons, Rune assumes.

Understanding the importance of such a place, Rune treats it like hallowed ground: Trying his best to keep silent in honor of those who passed, while making sure to not accidently disturb any of the skeletons.

It is there that he also finds Varceal… With eyes red with tears, and with some of his hair cut away, now ashen white.

Something happened in here before they arrived, that Rune could tell with a glance. But, he won't utter a word, suspecting it to be a more private affair. If Varceal intents to keep his moment in here to himself? Then so be it.

And so, they'll march on, finding the rest of the group and go up the staircase, finally reaching their destination, their goal.

They are now all standing, in front of the red dragon, son of Ryujin. Garljing himself.


Looking up at the dragon with a both wonderment and awe, Rune quickly kneels down to the dragon as instructed by Varceal, frozen in place as the rest speak to him-Not daring to say a word that might displease the red god, when he is this close to them all...
(Rune Daman)
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[22:12] {NARRATION} test
[22:19] {NARRATION} Scales like ruby gemstones that blazed bright as an ever flickering flame in the night. Dragonic eyes that turn skin into a sickly pallor, claws able to lacerate even the sturdiest to mere ribbons of flesh and bone. With his tongue he could smell your dread and taste your fear. He holds a wisdom like no other and, yet expresses a toxic greed. His throne is crafted from jewels, gold, and the treasures he claimed. Always trapped in slumber, unless he went to quench the hunger he could not satisfy -


What do these intruders bring him?


The Red God was scaled in shields of crimson, thicker than a castle's wall. Yet his nails were arcanium spears, the flicker of flame ever present and twisting around him.

It's like standing in front of the sun while being at the bottom pit of Hel at the same moment.

The Dragonlord Varceal declares their intentions, placing the still beating heart of one of Garljing's brothers before them. Then, there is the sword that has his eyes narrow, fangs beared at a single glance, an overbearing wave of smoke fuming out from between his fangs - shifting between that and the tainted ring that carried the scent of the Astor nobles. One of which had dared to foolishly make a threat to him in the past era before the Petrakis were torn apart in the war.

"Balmung," the serpent hissed, his voice an echo in the air that sent a wave of heat out with each syllable. "Dragonblooded -" The focus of the Emperor of Fire returns to those kneeling in front of him, then there's a sudden snap as he cracks forward and his long neck moves to bring crunching fangs down upon the offered tribute, practically cutting the man in half and spilling his guts and blood over the ground--a few splatters of it to those unfortunate enough to be standing nearby.

The half-corpse is spit out after he savored the taste for but a moment.

These offered treasures, on the other hand...

With the blood of the man burning away from his lips in a red mist, the primordial speaks, "Children of dragons! You have done well to retrieve these weapons against our kin..."

"You wished to deliver them directly to prevent thievery, yes-yes. Garljing Acknowledges You!" It calls out, a CRACK of its great talons splitting the stone as it moved around with its tail slashing left and right, "And you'll be granted a mercy today! Survive a minute against my flames and you'll leave with your lives!"

Sixty seconds.
Can they manage it?
[22:25] While, the others were kneeling...

Okri was just waving to their god like a damned fool. Granted, maybe his short height would make him hidden or mistaken as kneeling in reverence, but it was clear that the smith was too awe-struck and lost for proper thought.

He remained standing before their god.

The treasures and sacrifice offered. The man consumed, the treasures accepted. It was a sorry sight to see them go, in truth. How he wanted to study them for their technique but it mattered not now.

What did mattered were those final words. In all the reverence and worship, they stuck out to Okri above all else. For their god was not a kind or gentle one. Theirs was a grim, foreboding lord. A minute to survive the fiery breath of a god.

Or die.

With that, the short young man sprung into action. To bring up defensive barrier and guard against what might befall him. To protect himself while dodging the death that might come in short order.

Sixty seconds.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[22:26] Kuro had been kneeling the whole time as the others placed the offerings in front. It was a blessing to be in front such a being, only to be judged by who can live or not. Eating the man as tribute that they brought, it seemed that he wanted to test how far the fireblooded will go.

The red blade that they sought out from the dragon slayers and Osrona where it was first found. The heart of Skarllax they were able to rescue from an army of slayers trying to pick apart his its body.

I did it father... Mother... I was able to meet our one and only.... Garljing…

It's tail crushing the stone with just one swing. Kuro looked over to Kaida nervous hoping that they would at least be able to survive for a minute. Surely, its flames could probably consume them once the battle would start, but it was the only way to show how far he has made it.

"I will accept the challenge.... and strive for your mercy... o Red God.."

Kuro deep down gulped seeing that this was the moment. Seeing everyone around probably about to shit their pants, or have the courage to stand up to him.

All he had to do was live for sixty seconds, this was going to be... exciting.
(Kuro T. Hintze)
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[22:26] As they knelt before their god, they were relished with the words he spoke. He offered them naught a reward, but simple mercy. It was a fair trade, after all, they were intruders. People whom came into the dragon's fortress uninvited.

Surviving flames was a simple task for ones such as them. At least, ordinary flames. These were flames cast upon them by the great Red God himself. It was a test not unfamiliar to her. It was one she had known about for quite some time.

In fact, in her studies, the books she read often referred to it as the Test of Dun.

The reason why her forefather was burnt alive. To either be consumed by the flames and be turned to ash, or reborn in them as a true follower of the divine. As Fireblooded.

As she prostrated herself before Garljing, and heard his challenge, she'd rise to the occasion. It was something she would have to do. Life already placed several pains and hardships before her, but this would be among the penultimate.

"...Thank you for your mercy, great one..."

She prepared herself for the flames. Nerves crept at her, but she'd beat them back.

The final test.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[22:27] She watched in silent devotion to Garljing as they accept the gifts and snackrifice, a bit of blood splattering onto her cloth and face.

To be able to stand toe to the Legend, she felt immensely grateful she could do so with utter respect. Grasping her staff, her wings sprout, veins of shimmering magma brightening along with the growing fear and excitement.

"It'd be my honor." She mutters, beating her wings as heat waves emit from her very form. Preparing to duel Garljing himself alongside her kin...

She'd prefer it no other way.
(Kaida Ormr)
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[22:28] Varceal would stand and walk to his kin. "Brace your selves." He would as he took a step back - he would not dare raise his blade to the dragon but he would indeed survive this rushing flow of flames that is to come.

Varceal would be ready. "I am ready to receive your mercy my lord - let your blessed breath flow and I shall stand tall in the end of your trial." It wasn't confidence it was pride and that pride alone would help him stand against the flames.

Of a god.
(Varceal Vartuul)
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[22:29] The butler took the initial flame. Clearly a test for them to feel his wrath. He remained kneeled for a moment to long. Having the flames of the god press against his skin. A light layer of wind around his body reducing the overall impact on him. Dodging afterwards. Just to insure he wasn't going to attack again.

He reeled in pain, as he was off to the side. The minor fear he had in his body shifted. However he kept his feelings at bay. Letting himself play the game of this god. Clearly he was bored and wanted to play with his followers. Toy with them. With a game of run being the man focus.

Sixty Seconds

"I shall accept the challenge.... Thank you, for allowing us this mercy. ---Great Red God."

He was ready to sprint and dodge the best he could.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[22:29] Kaishen would look towards the dragon and was taken aback by what he said.

Did he just say survive his flames?

Kaishen knew that this dragon wasn't joking even in the slightest form. If you want to prove yourself against this god, then you'll actually have to prove it, no jokes. This was happening. Kaishen would get himself ready to run and attack if need be. He definitely didn't want to see how hot his flamers are if standing relatively close burned like all hell and kaishen is used to fire. This was more than just normal fire.

This was fire from a god, Flames that burn hot with authority. This would be the moment that kaishen gets to prove himself. He looks around making sure that each and every person here was prepared, knowing full well that they had there own thoughts in there head. It was about to begin.

sixty seconds...must survive.

Thought of getting burned alive by one of his flames was a terrifying thing to think about and what didn't help was him thinking about if he'd get eaten or burned alive, either way kaishen didn't have time to figure out which was worst He had to be on the defensive. Even now kaishen just doesn't understand the full grasp of this moment.

He knows garljing is the god they worship, but right now his body is telling him to prepare and get ready, It didn't register in his brain that he should be more respectful, but more alert and ready.
(Kaishen)
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[22:30] It was red hot the splattering of blood that sprayed the kneeling Gajin. In that moment he looked up and watched the Great God devour their offering. Eyes focused in amazement at the sight of such a raw display of power. That had been a magi of at-least modest power and yet he'd been dealt with as easily as one might swat a bug.

Then there was that thing he'd sought. The over-riding urge that'd pushed him to fight hard with the Astor manor against the Astor and their Dragon Slaying allies. Pushed him to climb the Tarian and best it's tempestuous climate. Further still against the swirling mists of a long dead Dragon.

The knowledge of Garljing's Approval.

In that moment the last three years efforts crystalized for the Flame Herald. All his efforts, training, preaching, fighting, bleeding. It all accumulated in that moment. He had been acknowledge by the Red God himself. There would be no more half-measures once he returned to the lowlands. The time had come to spread the word of Garljings power.

Though at the next few words the youth's focus crashed back down to reality. Feeling short of breath and icy cold within the harsh environment. This wasn't just acknowledgement it was an honor. He would gain the chance to be burned by the Great God's own flames. A minute to survive his wraith? He thought they could last a whole minute?

"You honor us with your confidence Garljing! We'll not waste this chance!"

As he shouted the words he brought his magic to bear. Plates of hardened bone coming to the surface as he prepared himself for the fury to come. He would showcase his own strength. His own worth.

Or he'd die to the very god he was named in respect to.
(Gajin)
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[22:31] Rune remained frozen in kneeling position as the red god examined their offerings, examined them. He too considered paying tribute as well, but upon seeing Garljing for the first time, knowing that his own tribute would have been compared to the Vartuul brothers?

Rune was filled with too much dread to try, fearing his own tribute might look like an insult. Perhaps at another time, when he'll be more daring, and with something of greater value- He too be will be able to make such an offering.

As the dragon reaches his maw down to the living offering, Rune averts his gaze, luckily far enough so that the blood won't splash on to him. No matter who that man was, him being eaten alive was too gruesome for him to watch.

At the very least, the journey was over, and the tribute was given.
Or so Rune initially though, eyes open themselves wide towards the red god when he offers them his form of mercy.

A final test, perhaps? To see if they are worthy? Before he could respond, he hears others accepting the challenge, taking it as honor.

Seeing this? Fills Rune with courage as well, nodding towards his companion before standing up to his full height as he turns to look up to their red god

"Very well... By my blade, we shall all preserve!"

His wings spread widely to the sides, ready to take flight!
(Rune Daman)
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[22:31] The salamander god's virtue of presence is enough to overwhelm Orodyn. Remind him of his place as nay more than a critter whilst in the face of a giant of said measurements. An inch to a kilometer. An ant to an elephant.

So meek. So incomparable.

It only beckons the thought - were Achyon truly intending to compare themselves to such a phenomenon made flesh? To a primordial, a divine?

They would have to be purged before they even had the gall to brave Garljing's maw.

Knelt down, the bloodied Dragonlord raises the anti-magic weapon. Obsidian and arcanium glittering up in the air in reflection to the volcanic god's perennial fire.

"We thank your mercy and decoration, o merciful god of ambition! We shan't keep you waiting!

Lest we burn in your divine fires for daring lift a candle to your sun!

Our unity, our appraisal...

They will keep us alive!

We honor you in thrill - one minute!"

Sacred blazes gleam around his mien, holy magic - the symbol of his interminable attunement to the divine five, and their descendants. His undying loyalty to the dragons.

Orodyn embraces them all.

And prepares for death.

His blood, glowing a golden ichor... it shields his brothers from the heat and peril. The dragon martyr's boon upon his kin.

"MAY YOUR SCALES ENDURE - BROOD-BRETHREN! DISAPPOINT OUR GOD... NAUGHT!"
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[22:31] Scales like ruby, eyes that felt as if they were staring through him. He didn't know how many countless eons they must have lived, for the throne that was behind them seemed to be treasures from all ages. They were definitely a dragon worth the title of the Red God.

As he listens to Orodyn and Varceal give their reasoning for being here and presenting their tributes. He began to tighten his arm guards. A pity that his own claws and scales couldn't be used to enhance his techniques.

He observes for a moment, the movements in others as the serpent hissed at the mention of Balmung. In an instant he snaps up the man offered as well, guts and blood spew but he does not look away.

Children of Dragons.

That was what he came for, to feel the empowerment of such a being, the one who blessed them with their power. The challenge that came with it brought a smile to his face, the flames that were coming forth were likely to be beyond any they've ever come in contact with.

He was certain his own scales would crumble and burn in the wake of the deity themselves.

"I'm ready."

He says preparing for the worst.
(Dezmond Graves)
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[22:32] {NARRATION} ENGAGEMENT - You must take Garljing to 50% HP, failing it, a party wipe. Three Matches in Total. Those who were knocked down previously will be auto-temped if they're knocked down again, then a perm roll (3 or less) if KD'd again.

Counting down in one minute...
[22:42] {NARRATION} Still on all fours, the twenty seconds of their battle had thus commenced - though it felt far, far longer in the realization that this was very much a battle for survival against a primordial god. There were no signs of the dragon slaying down regardless of how many thudding blows or piercing strikes it took -- If anything, their resistance encouraged him all the more...


"That's It! In heat and passion this world Began, and so it will End!"


If you aren't giving it all your all in your final moments...
...Then what's the point?

The magi present were fortunate enough now for the dragon's wings to spread out as he took to the sky, the warm up having passed and over. Time to get serious, despite nearly killing a few of them in all too close blows.

Fourty seconds remain.
[Extreme Mode -20% HP, +50% Intensity]
[22:44] ** Garljing, the Red God has inflicted an injury upon Gajin. ("Garljing's Wrath", "They have been fortunate enough to feel the lick of flames of the Fire Emperor, leaving burns that stole away armor and leather and skin - A graze that would've been fatal and wiped away flesh if they weren't so lucky.", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[22:44] {NARRATION} Counting down in one minute...
[22:44] Orodyn bleeds out, maintaining his posture throughout lacerating pain and the bliss of fighting at his limit. "WE BURN! WE EMBRACE IT! WE WILL THRIVE PAST THESE FLAMES!"
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[22:45] Okri picks himself up, his armor charred and his form burnt. This was not going to be pleasant.

Especially as he watches Garljing power up.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[22:50] {NARRATION} Twenty seconds remain...

(Counting down in one minute)
[22:50] Fortunately for Okri, he was made of sterner stuff than most. Despite the fact he wasn't really a combatant and had been getting by with the skin of his teeth...

The stout drakanite was as durable as the metals he shaped. When the worst of it came down, a protective barrier of volcanic rock, giving him the moment to scurry away from a deadly strike!

Despite the painful burns he suffered prior.
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[22:50] Gajin, that sweet, sweet, boy. Just kept leaping at Garljing like a man possessed and it showed. Cast asunder into the ground like a meteor wrapped in the mighty dragon's flames. Not once but TWICE. The fact that he'd pick himself up once more to keep fighting was commendable.

It was a shame that he looked as if he where melting. "Ha-ha, barely hurts!" So the youth leapt back into the fray! No one tell the boy that it didn't hurt because he had no nerves left.
(Gajin)
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[22:54] Varceal Vartuul exclaims, "And now to raise my father fromt he dead - I sacrafice these people of my church!"
[23:01] {NARRATION}
Sixty Seconds Had Passed.


Many of the group were out for the count, scorched by the bloody flames of the Primordial God - But there were a few still standing, and thus they had met the terms of the Dragon of Fury. With a powerful motion of his great, ruby-scaled wings, a crushing wind flattens all present, sending them off to crash against rock, concluding the end of his game.

"You all survive." Garljing announces, "-- Or do you?"

If a dragon could grin, right now, he surely was- inhaling in and inflating his chest, the red dragon lands on two legs and just as a sea of flames was about to ignite and turn all those present into ash, his mouth twists and opens, redirecting the flame to the relics on the ground instead-
-Blessing them with his magic, a touch of divine mana twisting what were once knightly objects into dragonforged weapons.


"Take these and leave this place, you've entertained me for long enough... and tell all - The rightful place of the dragons is to rule. We are Power. We are Wisdom. No human can compare."


Perhaps, in a way, these relics were tools to carry out that very mission. The Sluthian one of dragon supremacy in a world that direly needed such strength.
[23:03] {NARRATION} Earned in their battle, there are a set of crimson scales beside the reforged relics. Garljing's very own. A trophy to show that the Red Dragon, Emperor of Fire, granted them life today.
[23:10] By some miracle, or probably by the mercy of their draconic god, Okri got out of this only mildly singed and not crippled for life.

What a pleasant outcome for the youthful smith. Normally dour and grim in the forge, this venture to the mountain filled him with a sense of joy and purpose. A lightening of his mood compared to before. Granted, he was likely always like this beneath the soot-covered exterior, but it mattered not.

In the end, Okri had met Garljing and lived to tell the tale. They all did, it seemed. Gifts brought up the mountain in sacrifice for the massive dragon, and now? They were reborn in fire and fury. Reborn into a true relic for the Fireblood to wield against the forces that stand before them.

Balmung reblessed and repurposed, the ring reshaped and even a gift of the god's own scales upon them. Perhaps they would make for a wondrous set of armor or shields. The possibilities were endless.

Despite having been blasted down again and again, Okri managed to survive the ordeal encased in volcanic stone and nearly in the buff as his leathers were destroyed by divine fire. Despite it all, he still stood. Scroll of smithing in his satchel, relics and gifts before them.

"Aye... Thank you, Garljing… May we bring honor and success in your name."

The smile slowly faded and the long trek home ahead of them. A glance about his comrades as the smith looked to each and then off the edge of the looming mountain.

"Well... Back to me forge, I reckon. Got things to brew, metal to shape and lax essence to slather on me burnt ass."
(Okri Halfdanson)
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[23:13] The human butler seemed to manage to keep up. Dodging and weaving most of the god's abilities. Luckily he was just toying with them not showcasing his full power upon them. --However as a closer, a shockwave sent out slamming him against the wall.

Kirk slowly gets up, his body aching. Immediately leaning over hands on his knees panting, heavily. He was struggling to catch his breath.

Blue hues shift up to the Red God. Having survived his trial he coughed harshly, right before speaking.

"Thank you... for your mercy. --And honoring us with your trial, Great Red God."

He stood up tall. Composing himself, with a lick of fear still lingering from the task that just took place.

The butler has another impressive tale to tell after this. Which he will tell his kids once he ever has any. --That their father was tested by a god his himself. Even with the pain he couldn't help but have a small smile.
(Kirk Simmons)
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[23:13] Flames that only blinded Kuro from even seeing the ground. He couldn't see where he was going except being blasted with multiple attacks from the god himself. His shadow magic only growing stronger as he tried proving to himself that he was not going to be one to fall today. Running laps around Garljing, trying to avoid each attack while tossing out any swing he could land on him.

It was just a mere tickle for him, as he would blast everyone back with majestic flames. Watching over everyone trying to express their full strengths to their god. The primordial being only playing with them as meteors fell from the sky crashing down with each blow and sending Kuro flying off to the sides.

His eyes shifting over to Kaida, seeing as she was knocked down by a heavy hit, only making Kuro stand right back up.

"This..."

It was a blessing to be able to show what he could do with shadows, but no god would fall for mere illusion tricks.

He ran over and as the dragon finally parted away from them for living for the sixty seconds he promised, the teen holding himself up with one knee and his sword on the ground.

"I will not fail anyone... I will prove that those that live on the mountains are..."

Receiving mercy from the god as he was now allowing them to leave, only having harmed a few that weren't able to withstand his force. Kuro being covered in ashes and burn marks all around, most of his cloak burnt off too.

He took a few steps over to Kaida putting his arm over her shoulder.

"W-...We did it..."

Looking to everyone else.

"We all did it."
(Kuro T. Hintze)
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[23:14] The searing judgment of the Red God abdicates all. Purges one's soul, in its numbing, sol-like flares. Orodyn's figure, scaled and hardened to its limit, in a desperate attempt to fight back the overwhelming radiance of Garljing's firebreath, finally collapses. Thus leaving Orodyn's mien to fend for itself with nay more than its lowermost layering, as well as Ryujin's blessing to boast a minimal extra endurance.

And once the sunshower has dimmed, and the primordial readies for what appears to be a coup de grace? The youngest Dragonlord's arms spread wide - choosing to tank it wholly. To become nay more than ash, a combustible to the god's ravaging fury.

Yet, it comes not. For instead, his boon is delivered unto the relics they'd brought. Fires that recompose and reinterpret the guise of artifacts otherwise made to combat dragonkind.

The firegold ring, once taken fromthe Astor, now rests with him once more - his flames blooming twice as radiant with it.

Balmung, a weapon bestowed unto his elder brother by himself, finally coming into its own in their wake.

"Mine god...!" The bloodied mess of a drakanite exclaims, Gungnir in hand. "We shan't disappoint!

Your mercy, boon, honor and acknowledgement today... we bear these treasures in crusade!

We return to deliver your will through them!

We do as you've asked!"

Knelt down, Orodyn delivers one final bow. His heart, on the verge of imploding. His skin, melting and peeling from the onslaught. Yet that solemn disposition, faltering not.

That cocky grin of his now flashing both fangs, cast upon their group of devoted.

"Our pilgrimage is concluded, mine brothers! Lest we bother Garljing in his rest, we leave the lair at once!

Otherwise - stay and become god's meal!"
(Orodyn Vartuul)
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[23:14] The battle, no the blazing inferno time trial was hel, likely worse than. His scales braced for impact with each flaming arrow that collided with him and his brothers.

The fire burned beyond what he could handle, breaking his guard. He tried his best to maintain and recoup, backing away and jumping each direction he could to avoid the flames. Contact with his bare hands against the ruby like scales proved they were over hundreds times harder.

Kicks just proved to burn the boots he wore, this was a literal God. He was but a parasite in there eyes, one worthy enough to leave with his life it seemed. They all were, before that?

All he saw was death awaiting them, his thoughts none other than death, death, and more death. Certain that they would all be burned into ashes for bringing Balmung here, but no, it was truly a test and they had passed.

He gasped for air and took a quick breather. Watching as the flames he thought were meant for them were used on the weapons and tributes brought along with them. Reforged and repurposed, they gained all new affinities. He was amazed at how easily something like this could be done by dragons.

"No human can compare."

He says in agreement, their blessing was one that showed their power. Their home atop of Esshar showed they held firm in being at the top of all things. They were what stood between being a simple human, and a divine blessed being.

"Astonishing really.. seeing what his breath alone did.. it's amazing."

To serve the divine five by honoring them in battle was a gift he could not fathom being without. They'd survived, and they would return home with glorious trinkets and weapons made to slay the enemy.
(Dezmond Graves)
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[23:15] Kaishen did it...He survived with only an injury that wasn't severe. He was happy that this was all over. What's even better is The dragon gave them some of his scales to be used for something crazy. Kaishen would be honored to take something from the god they worshipped it made all of this worth while, but what would he use it for exactly.

Then a thought in his mind would come about. Maybe he could get those scales used in the making of his new gauntlets. Or maybe something interesting he doesn't know yet. but he was just happy that he got to be apart of something great today, That he got to be apart of history in the making.

Kaishen would look to those who fought hard and smiled towards them, It was such a relieving feeling to finally be done, He was so beat and worn out from the battle that a proper nap and food would do him so much justice.

Kaishen said to himself in a tired voice.


"I can't believe...we fought dragons. "

Kaishen sat on the ground, Which was probably still burning hot from all the fire that there lord spewed throughout the battle. Just goes to show how powerful he is and how much mercy was spared on us. He went easy mode on a lot of us.
(Kaishen)
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[23:15] The flames seemed like they were neverending. As the seconds passed, it seemed like hours. The entire top of the tower was smouldering with heat, flames neverending. Her blessing, however, protected her. As well as her scales, and the natural shielding of darkness... darkness wherever she could find it.

This was a test that had been placed upon her family before. Not one she was intent on failing. As she waded through the flames of Garljing, it seemed like they would never stop. As these stretched-out seconds were turning into days, months and years in her head, eventually they all stopped.

The Red God sung their praises. All of the brothers and sisters of the temple were alive. The casualties were a matter of simple burns and injuries. Each of these things were acceptable in terms of a brother or sister dead.

"...Humbling... a once in a lifetime experience... to face the Red God's flames..."

And to be imparted with a scale of the red dragonhimself, it was a day she never thought she'd see. Today was a blessed and momentous day. One that she would take with her to her grave. Remembering it every chance she got.

This was what she lived for. Nor would she forget the blood egg... a chance to perhaps reforge the destiny of her bloodline for the better. To bring glory back to the edge of Tarian. Back to the temple of the Fireblooded.
(Duniya Hintze)
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[23:15] {Item} You picked up Dragonscale Of Garljing. Dropped by Garljing, the Red God..
[23:16] Rune fought through thick and thin, doing his best to hamper the red god's movements. Even as his own body was scorched by the dragon's flames, he kept fighting, creating as many chains as he can to try and pin him down.

If he can't match him in strength, he could have at least do what his can to hamper the dragon's movements, letting others have a chance to come close or better avoid his blows.

In a battle that lasted only a minute, but felt like eternity, Rune kept fighting, striking with his sword until one of Garljing's flame breaths caught him, pushing him to the edge of the castle- Burned and too damaged to continue on, mere seconds before the time ran out.

But, at least? They all would come back from this alive. Some, with the scars to show it.

As for Rune? He was too damaged to speak, coughing in pained breaths.

His skin and flesh both scorched, and yet? He's glad. Glad they all survived to tell the story.

"Could- *Coughs* Use a hand here."
(Rune Daman)
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[23:16] Willing, with her kin, they'd all attempt to withstand the flames from Garljing himself. Massive waves of fire and cosmic rained down upon everyone as they were all tested.

The intense heat and fumes were enough to make the Magma Drakanite yield, only twice meeting the ground, the latter one was met with a meteor showed of bright lights she couldn't dodge. Coming out of the test, skin, leather and wings were singed, covered in dirt and torn up.

Struggling to stand but she does, grunting as her left arm is held from the impact of her falling on top of it. "It was an honor..." She'd simple say, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through her body. Through the pain, she still felt a large amount of happiness to have felt the flames from the Red God's flames and witness his presence.
(Kaida Ormr)
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[23:17] ** Garljing, the Red God has inflicted an injury upon Gajin. ("Wrath of Garljing", "The divine flames of the dragon god licked too close for comfort, searing off flesh (up to the player's choice as to where). Life threatening burns that will need immediate medical attention.", "Permanent", "Severity: MODERATE (-10 Vit)") **
[23:23] {NARRATION} Form a follow line for a send to spawn after these two last RPs. Also any comments/feedback/love notes can go here! https://chronicles-of-esshar.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=2737
[23:23] It wasn't a matter of bravery that kept Gajin going even as he felt his flesh scared and burned. It was something more primal than that. He heart beat with a fury as it pushed him to greatness. Adrenaline coursing through his blood as the thirst for life kept him going. Fear kept the heart beating, the heart kept the blood pumping, the blood kept the fire burning and so long as the flame of life burned it would rage against the world.

Into the flame's and cosmic fires he went time and time again. His sword a toothpick against the mighty God. His bones naught but splinters when hurdled at the great lord of fire. "Bahahaha! I've never felt so alive!" The irony was that Gajin was probably one of the worse off in the exchange. Where others magics allowed them the chance to pull back all of his was focused on one thing.

Aggression.

And aggress he did against the Red God. Ever pushing his body to further feats of strength and endurance as he rushed the divine before him. His scales burned and melted, searing his flesh as the leathers he wore quickly became little more than ash upon his frame.

Even his Mythril scimitar was starting to melt in his hands and so he reached to his leg and gripped a spike. Pulling it free from his leg and holding it high to his side. The sword cast asunder for the moment as he pushed himself against the Red God.

"RAAAWWWWRRRRR!"

Though by the end of the battle a great breath of flames would once more engulf the fiery drakanite and it was a wonder if he survived the ordeal. Yet, in the shriveling eye he witnessed something fantastical. The scale he'd been striking...

Fell to the ground.

It was a moment of confirmation that his flesh, his bones, his muscles had proved worthy for something amazing. As the Red God eased up Gajin's writhed on the ground his hand coming to his face, covering the melted flesh and scarred hair. Bone's peaking out of the seared muscles. His features forever marred. Yet the burn continued further down his features, encompassing half of his chest and wrapping around the shoulder and snaking down his arm.

Gajin might have lain there and died but he had a fierce will to live. Even in his pained state he forced himself up to his feet. Trying his best to follow his comrades out of the great dragon's presence and back down the Tarian.

Though it was only a matter of time before all that adrenaline was worn out and he collapsed.
(Gajin)
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[23:23] It was a test of strength and faith - Garljing proved to be just he was told a god of immense power - there was very few who could withstand the heat for to long.. and now - through the blessing of garljing himself the blade known to slay his kind would be transformed into something more than just a blessed blade.

It was a forge of a dragon - Balmug re-purposed.


The drakanite grabbed hold of the weapon and placed it in it's sheath. "This is now a relic of Garljing's coat - and any and all who shall wield will be a dragonlord of garljings coat..." he commented.

Tucked into it's sheathe he would kneel again to the fire emperor and bow his head in silence. "We are honored , and unworthy of your grace , my lord." - and so the trial has ended Skarlax was returned to his father and able to rest under the warmth of his fire.

Balmug has been repurposed into something to slay the dragonslayers rightfully.

And the legacy of Vartuul would be forever - remembered through matriarch blade of Vartuul for generations to come.

It was time to return home.

(Varceal Vartuul)
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