5/4 The Hunt for Energy's Firstborn

Following the recently appointed scout, Leon, the team would make a dangerous trek. Walking through the frozen North of Agartha.

It has everything you'd expect, and some things you'd NEVER expect. Chilling winds, icicles, snow falling from the cliffs above. It's worrying!

The team arrives at what would be their first obstacle. They must traverse the last part of the Frozen Mountain. A Cantankerous Canyon of Ice and Snow.

"It's real close, I promise."

Leon says. His teeth chattering.

You would all pull up to a ledge, it drops down to the bottom of the Canyon. So you'd estimate.

The path up lies above you - a ledge quite a few feet off the ground and an even longer way away from your side.

The walls of this hellish frozen canyon are close.


 Lord Ultovex floated up the canyon side, following after the scout and the rest of the group. Arms were crossed on the Adjucator's chest, following near the back despite his short height. Everyone else on Agartha was giant. The chains rattle angrily as the feeling of betrayal soaked into the air around him.

Yet it is only as the others stop he lays eyes on the first obstacle. A ledge with a long ways down stood in front of them, likely spelling doom to those who jumped in it. Sors considered floating over it for a few seconds, before instead the world screamed out in pain. By his side, and on the other side of the gap he would try to open a pair of rifts, intent on traveling the distance without going over the gap.

He didn't trust that an updraft or downdraft wouldn't arrive before they all finished crossing it.

"This way, scout."
(Sors Ultovex)
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 The Sarradian, as Valmasian as he was in his upbringing, was not outwardly prepared for the journey in the frozen north. As usual a large portion of his body was put on display. A servant custom that he had not yet abandoned despite his rise to nobility.

As the landscape shifted from the lush verdant foliage gradually shifted to the ruddy browns and white of the tundra he enveloped himself in his aura to stave off the chill of the land.

Instead of his typical nullify aura he wreathed himself in the swirling dark flames of the impure occult which contrasted heavily with his stark white clothing.

Were he to dispel the aura he could blend in among the white and brown with ease. It was fitting then that he was among the hunters here searching for their grand quarry.

The universe was occasionally poetic in such coincidences, but generally he wrote it off as the sentient mind searching for patterns to make sense of the world around them.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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 Ser Artaghh would float briskly behind the legion scout with a nod, his one eye tracing across the frozen reaches of the outer north of Agartha with grim resolve as he puffed away futilely at his corn cob pipe. No matter how much energy he applied, the fodder kept getting put out by the frigid winds, and he could barely get a good puff of smoke out even with ideal coverage from his cloak. Sacrifices must be made, he supposed.

Glancing across the wintry chasm that separated the seven companions from the next rung of their dread journey into the den of an ancient beast, the commander would cross his burned arms over his Nyeshk cuirass with a light smile. For once, his burns didn't feel half bad, the frosty chill of the peaks was almost soothing if it weren't for the biting gusts of wind and the idle sense of doom that hung in the air.

Very doomy.

"So. Tha's a bit'a jump, an' its real windy like, flight coul' be difficult. Jump too....rift though...""

(Artaghh)
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 Well! Chilling gusts of wind, frigid temperature, snow up to the fucking eyeballs! Worrying? What more could a vampire like Vedran want in life...? He'd be practically frolicking around icy peaks without a care in the world - If this wasn't akin to a major military operation..

What a drag! Never the less, the team trekked onward.. Vedran held his head high; embracing the mountainous journey, even humming a little tune... if it wasn't immediately muffled by the strong winds.

"Oh-...! Ain't it fuckin' beautiful out? I may vacation or retire 'ere, build a house!" Not like he'd get visitors. Instead of struggling, he'd gaze across the chasm that separated themselves from their goal..

Taking advantage of his superior senses..

"So! Capable of flight but 'em winds?" He'd go off-course.

Luckily Sors was there.
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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Continuing along with the cavalcade of adventurers under the Legion's banner, the Paladin would tug at his cape as the frosty winds carried their embrace across his form.

Deciding that cigarettes would be fairly worthless here he employed a watchful eye as an alternative, gazing upon the frigid divide that lay before all of them, and raising an eyebrow.

From his memory however, everyone of them here was capable of taking flight through gravity magic manipulation, though perhaps there was something he was not seeing here...

His gaze shifting to the lands around them he'd find that the whipping of the thickened wails of sleet about them he'd follow after the acts of Sors, who'd opened a rift for them to pass over in relative style.

"Very well, this is not only the most practical application...but it's also fairly badass."

His breath would emit similarly to the smoke thathe'd missed, but his chuckle would emanate as the group went on.
(Chroma Zanders)
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 The Nagual eyed the gap and ledge between them. She wasn't exactly sure how she would make her way across the winds strong. A few possibilities crossed her mind before she was about to settle for trying to cross through sheer speed, that is before Sors attempted to open those rifts.

The true question being, could he bring all eight of them?

She would attempt to cross the rifts if they would carry them all.
(Jessi Ultovex)
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 The Sirenian took trudged through the cold snow that covered the mountain, as he followed the group. The cold wind brushing against his skin was less than ideal, but he'd do his best to ignore the gnawing cold that surrounded him, as he continued to follow the scout.

After a few more moments of walking, they came to a sudden stop. He'd glance around to see why the merry group of adventurers had stopped, only to spot a rather large canyon. Normally, he'd say to just jump the damn thing, or fly over it. But with the way the winds were right now? That'd be suicide.

He'd scratch his chin as he glanced at the rest of the party, as different ideas began to flow through his head, but before he'd state any of them, partially due to how bad most of them were, he'd simply ask the group what they think.

"So... Any ideas? Cause most of mind end up with us falling to our deaths. Which, seemswould be less than ideal."
(Chaaca Khan)
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 {NARRATION} "Any ideas?"

Chaacha must feel DUMB, because Sors just opened rifts to cross that gap. The parties fears about the draft might've been very valid, but they'll never find out now.

The Scout scoots up behind Sors fand quickly jumps through the portal himself.

Whoever would be the first one on the other side would see it. A large structure in the distance. Concealed by the snow storm that was constantly blowing, you can faintly make out the details.

As in, it sure as hell was an Arena.

At this point it was all an upwards struggle. Because, naturally, it was a steep incline covered with snow and who knows what else.

But no more gaps, Azrael Bless.
 Chaaca always felt dumb.
(Chaaca Khan)
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 Rifts were a utility, blessed in their usage. The lifestream itself screamed out in pain, but it was ignored by the mages of Dawn. All that mattered in the eyes of the Adjucator was progress, and progress there was as they moved to the other side of the rift.

The large structure game into view of the blue eye of the staff. It was hidden by snow, but with those three eyes he was able to make out a faint amount of details. Once the intial rift closes, another opens, spilling out three skeletons.

"Le's go."

The skeletons moved, slightly ahead of the group and would begin clearing the snow as well as being used to test for traps. Better the dead of Huangzhou then his living army.

Paranoia toyed at the back of his mind, eyes ever shifting to make sure nothing was moving in the corners of his view.
(Sors Ultovex)
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 Sirocco's mastery of the winds could be perhaps a small comfort to the group in the trek to come. He holds out his organic arm, staff held upright, and simply holds it aloft for a moment, getting a feel for the various drafts and how they meet.

The patterns were as clear to him as a nautical map read by a seasoned captain and as the understanding came to him he began to alter and counter the buffeting winds with a negating force of his own.

His goal was to create a pocket of visibility around them so that they could see clearly where they were going and to minimize the hazards of the journey how he could.

As the winds around them settles it creating a surreal dome of stillness around them in the swirling arctic winds as though they were in some sort of inversed snow globe.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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She would gasp slightly as she stepped through the rift, a world of ice and snow... There was a time In the Nagual's life she would have stopped to appreciate such things. That admiration of beauty was long gone, only a moments appreciation given.

Though she did see what looked to be an arena of sorts... the Nagual smiled, one born of habit more than anything else. She just liked the idea of arena fighting.

Time to climb the mountain....

Sharp eyes and ears kept on alert for danger.

"Right."


(Jessi Ultovex)
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 Chaaca! Ha! What an idiot! Crossing the rift's threshold behind Sors and the other legionnares; the storm's presence could be felt. Obscuring the large arena-like structure in the distance-.. "Well. I imagine that is our destination; Swiveling his gaze from side to side, Snow, Ice, More snow.

No civilization within sight, it was simply a question of 'how would they make the trek?' Oh. Wait. With the opening of another rift, three skeletons piled out at Sor's command. "Takes care o' that, doesn't it." Did they even pack shovels?!

Rummaging through his own pause, with nary a shovel in sight. "Guess it's good that the boys came 'long." Whistling a tune as he followed; with his sharpened senses..

Perhaps!

Vedran could make out the details.
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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Ser Artaghh would pace through the familiar rift of his good friend Sors Ultovex, wholesome family doctor, crunching into the snowy terrain of the opposite side as he raised his hand to protect his remaining eye from the frigid gusts. In the distance, he could vaguely make out the architecture of the distant arena, confirming the commander's certainty that this was the right place. The fabled arena of Energy's Firstborn, the place where man came to fight in emulation of the winged sovereigns of the sky, and seek to become dragons themselves.

Oh yeah, that looked real arenaey.

Chewing on the tip of his put out corn cob pipe, the commander would trudge on with fearless determination, unslinging his greatsword of Nyeshk as he ignited his shroud of pulsating, fiery mana with a nod to the party. From this point forward, all bets were off, whatever awaited them ahead was not going to be the friendly sort.
(Artaghh)
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 Right, a rift. Probably should have thought about that... Pleh. He'd give a half shrug as he followed his group through the rift. His blue eyes would light up upon exiting said rift. There was a freaking arena!

Hell yes! A new wave of motivation flowed through the Sirenian as he made his way up the steep incline, towards the ideal building. His eyes would occasionally dart to the undead that lead the group, but for the most part he simply focused on moving forward.

Using a bit of his sound magic to enhance his hearing. You can never be too careful after all. If something was going to sneak up on the group, he'd hear it.

"Good, a building. Hopefully we can get out of the storm."

Odds are whatever is in that arena will be far more dangerous then the storm, but oh well.
(Chaaca Khan)
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 Chroma steps into the rift, being spared from the windy natures of the environments. He'd feel like bringing the Boogeyman along was actually quite a good idea after all.

He'd march on upwards as the structure came into view and the trio of skeletons marched out in front of them.

He was ever cautious however, they'd not known this land though Dawn had quite a habit of taking charge regardless of the odds. Keeping his attentiveness nice and refined, the Scarlet locks that trailed him would perhaps frost a bit at their tips.

"If I didn't think your lips would freeze, I'd say this'd be a good time for a travel song...though we'd do best to remain....vigilant, to say the least."

A clear pressure was exerted about his form as he tapped the barrier between. Keeping a searchlight around them to sense if he'd found something awry.
(Chroma Zanders)
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 {NARRATION} Sors paranoia is more of a blessing. There is something there but he can't make it out. A dark shadow creeping over the higher cliffs. Watching.

Sirocco's mastery over the winds would help. Some of the chill would be there but the harsh wind chill was vanquished. The rest of the party wouldn't have to deal with chilly fingers and frozen limbs. It also made the way forward more clear, and again. It sure as hell was a massive arena. Blue fire pyres lay out in front of it.

Vedran's whistling yields nothing. Perhaps things are just as they seem?

Chaaca can hear a shuffling coming from the cliffs above. Further validating Sors.

Chroma however couldn't sense anything in the direct vicinity.

It seemed like every paladin had a very specific use. A powerful war machine....


As they reached the halfway point of the final stretch, they'd notice it.


Almost silently, some unknown beast would throw itself down at the party. Moving in tune with whatever winds Sirocco hadn't diverted, he'd almost have the jump on the party if it wasn't for Sors and Chaaca.

Giving them a chance to react to the falling troll-beast that was plummeting straight into the center of their group.
Ser Artaghh, having been fully prepared to engage in immediate melee combat upon crossing the cliff with his keen foresight, despite only having one eye, would do naturally what any commander of a legion would do in a time like this. He'd hold his ground and prepare to engage the troll in a battle of might for the glory of Dawn, and for the pride of this man's legion.

Igniting with the blue flame of the mystic energies, the swordsman would grip the handle of his blade tight with both bandaged hands, no dampness or slipping allowed in what was to come. Anything that could survive and thrive up in these heights was nothing to be underestimated, and what would a hunt be without some varied game.

It was troll stew tonight boys.
(Artaghh)
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 At Chroma's suggestion the Sarradian has a ponderous expression. He glances over to Chaaca briefly, clears his throat, and begins in his low rumbling baritone.

Surprisingly he had a fairly practiced singing voice, but to any who truly paid attention it was a common practice among slaves and servants to sing while they worked. For some it was the only liberty they were given.

""Full the moon and midnight sky
Through the dark they ride
Warriors of forever will sacrifice the right."

The melody is haunting, but appropriate for the moment. It was an old song hailing from a time where their quarry was a prominent threat in the minds of men.

"One for all and all for one
The future time has come
Faces filled with torment
Your heart beats like a drum"

Again another meaningful look is cast to Chaaca as Sirocco sings in his deep voice, perhaps he was expecting as least another voice added in. The musical knight was also a bard, right?

"Never you will look back again
You'll fight on 'til the end
Together we will live on forevermore
In this land we have defended from all things dark and cruel"

The tune of the song was bouncy and simple, but perfect for a march of soldiers especially given the subject matter and the task at hand. It had seemed quite appropriate after all.

"In this land we have defended
From all things dark and cruel
Now we are defenseless
In a land where dragons rule.."
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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"Right, so I don't want to alarm any of ya, but I think there's somethin' following us..."

Nodding as he spoke, his blue eyes would dart up towards the cliffs above him. It was then that his statement would be validated immediately, as something dropped straight into the center of the merry party. Well shit.

Blue eyes darted away from the cliffs, as they quickly made it's way over to the large beast. Azreal that thing is big. His hand would quickly reach back and grip his trident, as his entire body began to radiate with a bright light.

As he brought the trident forward, the crystal gem began to hum with a soothing tune, as he readied himself for combat, but not before glancing over at Sirocco.

"I'll sing the song with you in a moment, gotta kill this thing first."
(Chaaca Khan)
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Everything had it's place. And everything would betray you. These were the whispers of the ring as the skeletons moved the snow out of their way. But as moved, something in the cliffs was seen. Pretending he doesn't observe, Lord Ultovex only tracks the beast with the blue eye, his own gold and grey focused on the path ahead.

And yet? The chains rattling would give away he was onto something. The sound grew louder and louder as the eye of the Whispering eye started to slowly turn green. There was increasing sounds of whispers filling the air, poisons for people as the unknown beast moved closer and closer.

Then it threw itself down. And as it did, the chains of the arcane lash out, aiming for the creature and trying to gouge into it's arm to swing it to the side and away from the group.

"Kill it. It's quite 'nough ta make almos' no sound an' nimble 'nough ta scour tha' cliffs. It'll make a good additional scout fer us on tha' hunt forward.

An its not tha' freeze why we shouldn't sing. Tha' gives away our position if there's mor' o' these things."

Words said, his attempt only would likely earn a few seconds. The Whispering eye is drawn from his back as green eyes open around him, and the corruption of the world sinks around the party.
(Sors Ultovex)
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Without noticing much out of the ordinary until she would be alerted to a... whatever the fuck that was. It was charging down at them.... more a fall really.. was it... shit.

As it would attempt to land amongst the strongest of the Legion it would soon know its mistake.

The Naguals form becomes coated in blackened lightning the power of the Spirit filling her...

With a sound of ringing metal her blade was drawn, a javelin already on its way to the beasts chest.
(Jessi Ultovex)
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In hindsight, maybe whistling a tune upon a predator-lined mountain wasn't the smartest of choices! Blue flame could've been made out in the distance; but the Cainite didn't have time to admire to scenery..

Ignorant to the beast's imminent decent, if it wasn't for Sors and Chaaca alerting them! SO MUCH FOR VAMPIRIC SUPER-SENSES! Gazing upward, as his eyes went wide; reflexively his hand darted for his Odachi - sparking the tiny rune on the handle, as the sheathe separated into two separates pieces.

An unseen force holding them, so that the vampire could fluidly draw the cumbersome sword; Dashing backwards, before standing his ground..

Glancing between the frost-troll and his team; "Battle plan?!" Futilely shouting, before pillars of ice erupted from the floor..
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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 A hit....

Rending the sense of calm, his tapped vicinity immediately picked up on the disruption of a rather LARGE soul barreling into the group's forefront.

It's singular gaze tore into view long before it's behemoth form seemed to flare in the night as Chroma would unsheathe his dual weapons and take a defensive prose.

His teal casing embossed, as snow exploded outwards from beneath his person. The man's beacon grew into a refined state as he flickered in arcs of cobalt lighting his eyes glowing bright and his demeanor easing into a status of focus on but a single ideal.

The destruction of this obstacle..

Furthering his reach with his spiritual energies, he'd take his time side-stepping into the leylines as he'd been constantly practicing, attempting to make distance, before dashing in for precise and crippling blows as the Adjudicator had ordered.

"Plan? It's simple as Lord Ultovex says.......win."
(Chroma Zanders)
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 Vedran Ivanovich says, "Weird."
 {NARRATION} Sors' quick reactions would lead to the troll being knocked off course. Landing into a nearby Snowdrift, he's stunned for a few seconds.

He experienced a song. A bald man glowing blue. A lightning cat. A weird fish guy. And a Dracula wannabe with an actual Dracula.

It was intense, to say the least.

The Snow Troll? (Or possibly a demon, you never know with Agartha.) picks itself up out of the snow and brushes itself off.

Whatever advantaged it had before was surely gone now. It even looks a bit injured.


It's not stopping him, however. The Troll swishes his hands through the air and draws a an icy current of wind around his body. He's poised to strike and charges at the party.


[3 rounds 0 cap restrained. Get your party shit settled]
{NARRATION} BTW! It doesn't always print to my chat if someone gets downed in a fight. So I trust you guys in telling me if you do go down.

I'll be trying my best to keep track of it.



In a hail of cutting winds, overturned earth, and well hail, the Troll-Demon would assault the party. Thrashing and bashing and spiting any actually, literal, sword and board knight that there'd be.

He'd turn the entire area into a hellish localized snow storm, but it'd take more than that to stop The Paladins.

In his final mad dash towards the group, Chaaca would give one last PUSH and defeat the troll.

What really happened is up to him, of course.
Stay in the back.

That was the game plan, was it a cool plan? NO! Was it an effective one? Yes, yes it was. His job wasn't to rush at the beast and flail his trident at it wildly, no! His job was to stay in the back, and keep Sors and Artaghh alive with the few healing spells he could, and should the opportunity arrive? He'd dash in for a quick attack before going back again.

Then he saw it, an opportunity to finish the beast. The Sirenian would place his staff onto his back, as he brought out his plastic kazoo from his pocket. He was ready.

The paladin would take this chance, rushing past the group towards the foul creature, he'd quickly bring the orange instrument to his lips, as he jumped in front of the creature. This was going to be really loud, and really obnoxious.

With the kazoo pressed against his lips, and being right in the face of the creature, Chaaca would blow into the kazoo. No noise would be heard however, instead something else would happen.

Pressure. The gravity came smashing down onto the poor troll, gravity summoned by blowing into the kazoo, snapping could be heard, probably the bones of the troll cracking, or breaking, as he continued to blow into the kazoo.

More, and more pressure would continue to come crashing down onto the poor beast until it was flattened. Poor troll.

After the dead was done, the paladin would glance around the area as he attempted to check on his companions, hopefully everyone was okay.
(Chaaca Khan)
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 Vedran Ivanovich says, "OH GOD MY EYES"

 Ser Artaghh would engage in a fierce melee combat with the troll, matching mighty swing to mighty swing as the earth magi swordsman found himself outbrawned by the sheer, monstrous musculature of the frosty beast. If the commander had been cornered by the troll alone, he would have certainly died before they'd even made it to the arena.

But then, he was not alone. The seven companions of Dawn worked in tandem to bring the pursuer to its knees, and though Artaghh had the wind knocked out of him twice in vicious succession throughout the violent clash, he was able to slowly push himself back to his feet in time to watch Chaaca kill a troll with a kazoo. The knight nodded sagely, crossing his burnt, bandaged arms over his chest as he heaved steadily. Kazoos were not to be fucked with.
(Artaghh)
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It wasn't going to work here.

The occultism from the ring, the tangible sense of betrayal is made to retreat back into the object as the battle wears on. Astral force tears into the creature ahead of them, the troll demon forced by pressure from gravity and the beams of starlight that the Adjucator fired from a gloved hand. The very willpower he decided pressed down heavily on the demon, and while the occultism was not as strong as he could make it, his life not being constantly sapped to nothing more the made up for it.

They were falling, everyone of them, from Artaghh, to Chroma, Sirocco, to Vedran. The feeling that all around him were dying just seeming to be a training for the war that was to come. There is no expression of pain on his face as they hit the snow, only the darkness that stabs like needles into the hide of the creature.

And then the last blow. The pressure, not his own came onto the creature as the bones of it was flattened. Grey and gold stay on it as it goes more and more flat until finally the last cracks are heard, the creature dead.

"Did ya preserve tha' spine? Tha' might've ruptured tha' body. It's real hard ta hav' a movin' undead scout if they ain't got tha' ability ta mov'. Looks like we'll hav' ta find another. Disapointin'."

He looked around to those knocked down by the creature. "Ya'll ain't dead, ya? Le's do ya best not ta die. It'd b inconvenient."
(Sors Ultovex)
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The Warden of Dawn's Legion would seem to blur, the trolls initial wave of earth dodged with a speed that shouldn't have been possible, and yet was for her. If only for a few moments.

Evading the rocks she takes to a defensive combat style, doing her best to heal allies as they fought. Her lightning would rain on the troll serving to deal damage and also possibly distract the beast.

On occasion she could be seen to dash in, her movements flickering as they had before bursting her lightning, or striking the beat with a charged blade before fading into the background once more.

The troll got it into it's head to dive for her specifically once, her lightning supercharging her movements dodging almost all of it before dissolving entirely into her element to zip away to build distance once more.

As her allies would fall seemingly one by one, the remaining ones would fight harder to cover their fallen.

In the end it was Chaaca who crushedthe beast, a silent song causing intense gravity.

"Well. Everyone... okay?"

Just thought shed ask.
(Jessi Ultovex)
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 The Sarradian leaps in and out of the fray through bursts of compressed air from his mana engine that grant him enhanced mobility and sudden powerful strikes against the frosty beast.

As the comrades around him go down to the hulking monstrosity the pressure falls upon him. Rapid release from the device in his arm grants him a fleeting boon in eluding the troll.

He raises it to strike and simultaneously launch himself away as its onslaught centers on his diminutive form and.. Puff. Nothing comes out and the troll's trunklike arms sweep into him sending him hurtling through the air.

A last ditch manipulation of the winds he sailed through allow him to cushion himself against the blow. Dizzy, disoriented, and incapacitated he lies there trying to regain his sense as Chaaca finished off the creature.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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 Chaaca Khan says, "I-... Shit, I forgot about that, sorry Lord Ultovex.... Kinda lost myself in the moment."
 Artaghh asks, "Mmm.....could we jus' shove a stick up its arse as a makeshift spine?"
 Charge the beast!

Not a second was wasted, as the Cainite charged into the field. Was it an intelligent plan?! Not in the fucking slightest, But, he was Vedran fucking Ivanovich! The blood paladin wildly swung at the troll, carving away bloody chunks and troll hair; his movements were nimble, and his sword struck true..

But! That didn't save him from the creature's icy wrath; it flailed back and constantly deterred the vampire, he'd hiss loudly before quickly jumping back; flailing icicles at the beast, while hefty pillars of ice formed beneath the troll.

Stabbing into his calves, leaving him reeling while Chaaca attempted to finish off the beast; a bold victory! . . . Except for the sharpened spike of ice hurdling in the Ivanovich's direction. "Oh fuc-.." With a decisive strike! It was pierced the vampire's throat, crimson eyes going wide as he was felled; collapsing against the ground.

While gurgling with that icicle lodged in his throat-... while Vedran's muscles went slack in the snow.

No human could've survive that; blood would freely flow and he'd suffocate with the air cut off.

.

.

.

Except that he wasn't human, as his allies fell the frigid beast, the vampire slowly rose from his spot; He was okay! If you ignored the icicle sticking out of his neck.

Urgently pointing to it.

"Hurts."
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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 Finding himself in the heat of battle, the Red Paladin had a relatively simple game-plan as things went forwards.

He would burst in and do all he could to incapacitate and slow down the troll, then take a breather amidst it's ultimate tantrum, weaving in and out of the deeds of his other swordsman comrades, their efforts in tandem slowly chipping away at the gargantuan native.

He'd see an oncoming swing and in an attempt to sift into the Spirit Realm on impact he'd still feel the general brunt of the hit, but not without a Gale'd slash slamming into it's face before Chaaca's colossal efforts would put the thing down for good.

Finding the strength to drag himself back up from the ground he'd shake his head, with a slight coughing after his shaking blow. He seemed to be all in one piece though.

"Agh…..still alive, nice. Chaaca? That was something else. Keep that energy as we go forwards."
(Chroma Zanders)
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 {NARRATION} A tough fight for them, but the first of many.

It'd have luck in focusing down Sirocco, Vedran, and Chroma. Yet others would be a bit more tricky - with Jessi darting in and out of the fight and healing her allies and Sors bearing down on him with his mastery over the occult.

Yet the strongest of them all was Chaaca. A man so powerful he took out a Kazooie and shifted the very gravity of the world. Causing it to

***CRUNCH****

The Troll. Wrecking every bone and leaving it utterly destroyed. Sorry Sors.


But there was some benefit to it, seems like one thing survived. Atop of corpse lied a crystalline structure. Just waiting to be picked up. Where did the Troll store it? Who cares, loot is loot.

It's also worth mentioning that the poor scout is gone. He probably ran home afraid. Poor soul.



Once the party decides to move on, it's a stroll. The winds have calmed down and before long the entire arena lies infront of them. Blue fame braziers are the only thing that stands out. The outer walls are... bland. A blank and pale stone structure with a wooden frame. How does that work even?

There, however, is a single guard. Seeing a big band of murders and thugs is always a scary experience, however, he bravely yells at them to stop.

"What are ya doin' at Kerafym's Arena? Here ta take the tests?"
 "A stick won't work as tha' spine. An' well need a replacement. Look fer anotha on-"

Crunch. Every single bone of the body was destroyed at once. Grey and gold stare at the corpse in their tunnel vision, the object of their way gone to be carried off in the wind. Black clad gloved hands curled into hateful fists as he floated forwards, eyes narrowing.

"Well, tha's jus' peachy." He shoots a glare to Chaaca, then floats forwards, a new undead garrison of five coming out a rift to serve as scouts yards away. Given the previous scouts departure his own undead would serve to redouble their efforts.

Grey and gold stare forwards as the blue eye rapidly looks over the area as they approach the arena in front. And yet there is someone in front of them.

"Spirit? Some kind o' gatekeeper. Can't be human. Wha' test?"
(Sors Ultovex)
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 The Nagual floats lightly over the snow, following amongst the group. Panther-like senses searching for anything amiss, especially now that the weather had calmed. Finally they come to the arena... a single man in their path.

He would call out to the group about some tests... Kerafym's Arena..? At least the obvious was confirmed.

"Tests..? I'll bite. What are they..?"


(Jessi Ultovex)
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Ser Artaghh would mourn the loss of the noble scout to cowardice or potentially death. These things happened, but he was a good sport and a fine guide. Sadly, the knight had already forgotten his name, and so he could not be memorialized or have a bounty put on him for desertion. Such was how things went.

Trudging along through the snow as the winds died down, the commander would steel his nerves and dust off his bruises with a stalwart nod, gripping his blade tightly and forcing himself along with vigorous determination to see the beast fallen and claimed for Dawn's might. Such was their calling here, and Ser Artaghh did not know fear.

As the party approached the arena, Artaghh would glance idly upon the glowing blue braziers of flame, the ethereal torches reminding him much of his own manifested shroud as a energy magi. So it began. "Aye, seven companions stand ready an' willin'ta face the trials'a Kerafym, or die tryin'."
(Artaghh)
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 Sirocco picks himself and dusts off his cloak which is a rather difficult task when you only have one arm. In a moment of frustration with the task he begins to vibrate the air around him suddenly and with great force.

The result is that his clothes go billowing for a brief moment as every bit of debris is dislodged and hurtled in a sphere around him. Then he rejoins the group and begins to inspect the surroundings.

It was certainly an unnatural place they had stumbled upon, but at this point the wonder and surprise of such things had faded and was replaced by a scholarly analysis.

Mentally he begins to take note of the architecture, potential materials, and the state of decay or lack thereof. It certainly was an old place just by the feeling alone.

Lost in his own thoughts he blinks a few times as the soldier calls out to the group. Tests? Well, this was.. Interesting to say the least.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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 The Sirenian would glance at the strange crystal that rested upon the corpse of the Troll, he'd offer simple shrug before picking it up, and placing it into his bag. Provided no one tried to stop him, or wanted it even.

His eyes would dart around the area, as he went over each person here. Sirocco, and Chroma seemed a little injured, but for the most part, they were fine. Jessi, seemed to be alright, Artagh was Artaghh, and Lord Ultovex was also fine. It was then that his blue eyes would land on Vedran… Was, was that a icicle in his throat? God that looked painful.

Apart of him wanted to rush over to check on him, but he could do nothing to help the vampire, so instead he'd focus back on their journey. Oh hey, the scout was gone, either dead, or ran away. Either way he'd be missed.

He felt Sors glare, and boy was he less than thrilled about that. "S-sorry... I uhh, got carried away back there didn't I?" He'd say as he followed after the group, until a few moments passed and they eventually arrived at the arena.

Oh hey a person!

"Test? I uhh, I'm not the best at test, but I can give it a fucking go, I guess."
(Chaaca Khan)
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 Trekking forth, Chroma would stay at an attentive glare, even still. Such an abrupt attack even with all of the upper elite forces was still wracking along his mind.

His sight catching glimpses of pyres and hearing the sounds of wind being replaced by that of the immaculate colosseum that encroached upon the distance.

The man would come into view as their group finally neared. The scarlet swordsman had already come this far with these Legionnaires and he felt that a trial or two would honestly be no big issue as they were so motivated to see this damned dragon after a decade of preparation.

"A trial...of course. Though nothing can stop us now, honestly. I wonder just how deep this goes..do they worship or protect these grounds..? Or does this thing know sport?"

He didn't feel like his curiosity would be answered, though he felt that it should be addressed going forwards. Looking between Sors, and Chaaca though, he couldn't help but smirk.
(Chroma Zanders)
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{NARRATION} Jessi wouldn't sense anything.

Sirocco would note the entire building looks well kept. Yet some signs of wear would be apparent. It's a popular place.

He was a human. Just like Artaghh, a true human peasant. Although the axe on his back and rugged clothes gives him a less noble appearance.

Maybe he's a Peasant Bandit instead of a Peasant Knight.

He'd nod to the Ultovexs. Before focusing his gaze more so on Jessi. Easier to look at all and all.

"If yer up here you've come to fight for Kerafym's attention. Ain't nothing more to it."

He nods at Artaghh, finally someone who knew what they were doing.

"You's sayin' the handsome man over there ain't tell you a lick of what yer doin'? Dunno might be a genius or a madman that one."

He'd turn to Chroma.

"Nah they just came here to eat the weakuns who can't make the walk. Think it took y'all for easy prey. Lucky it wasn't in a pack like usual."


He'd cough before trying to put on a more "official" accent.

"Here ye be enterin' Kerafym's Arena. Those who seek glory and power come here to fight for the Blue Drake's attention. To one day be the ones to wake up the sleeping one and fully complete their transformations inta somethin' greater. Kerafym likes it bloody so I ain't gonna keep you for long. But he asks for each contestant to state their aspirations to me, what ya want to gain from it all.

Course you can whisper it to me if you want, he don't care and I don't care."

He shrugs.
 She didn't like the way he looked at her. He didn't even have a particularly menacing expression, more just a voice in the back of her head just told her she didn't like this guy. No other reason needed.

So Kerafym was the Dragons name.... Interesting..

"Seems we have to fight to get the Dragons attention."

She would answer his question simply,

"I? I simply wish to grow in strength, or to find things to aid that goal."

Her goal was simple, but it was honest work. Sometimes.
(Jessi Ultovex)
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The man here was just that- A man and nothing more at first glance, but looks often were deceiving especially in these mystic corners of the world. Regardless of what he truly was it seemed, from what he could discern, that this was some sort of odd cult.

Then came the question of what they wanted. This was more of a ponderous item than the locale or the inhabitants. Oddly enough he did have things that he wanted although they were few.

He approaches the man and drops his voice to a whisper, winds swirling around him as he speaks in an attempt to conceal his words from the others. Hopefully it would be enough to keep his desires secret.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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 Lord Ultovex sneaks up behind Artaghh, hushed words under his breath.

"We're here ta kill tha' Kerafym, ya? I know we're here ta slay a dragon, but ain't got a name o' anything else. Please tell ma we're here ta kill 'im. I want ta see this guy cry when we take his lil master from 'im. I want ta see tha' despair in his eyes as his world falls 'part."

Grey and gold trailed on the back of Artaghh's head as he whispered the vile words, occultism sparking around his finger. The Adjucator looks between the commander and the guard, glaring with every look spared on Jessi. Someone was awfully possessive and distrustful lately.

Lord Ultovex then stepped forward as the guard asked for his aspiration.

"I want ta ruin ya life. Ya's in particular. Ta mess up ya day. I want ya ta suffer. Tha' is ma aspiration rite now."
(Sors Ultovex)
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 Sirocco Vishkar whispers something.
 Sirocco Vishkar whispers something.
 Chaaca's blue eyes dug into the back of Artaghh's head. Why hadn't he said anything about this? Oh well, he probably knew what he was doing. His eyes would then dart over towards the guard. Kerafym's Arena? First time he'd heard of this place.

Kerafym was probably the name of the dragon, neat!

As for fighting to get the dragons attention? That was something this group could do with ease. Then his question came up, one that he could answer without hesitation.

He'd rest his hands on the back of his head as he spoke."I just want everyone to survive. That's all."
(Chaaca Khan)
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 Ser Artaghh would bark out in laughter and agreement. He was handsome. This man was clearly of worthy character and respect, and so the commander would answer his questions in full without any regret. After all, if it happened that this icy mountaintop was to be the peasant's grave, he would arrive to it without fear or regret for words unspoken. If this was to be his obituary, it would be one of glory!

"I am Ser Artaghh, knight o'ta Green Hill. An' I aspire'ta be the greatest knight there's e'er been through feats'a glory, wanderlust, an' grand adventure! Such is my solemn vow.

The bald swordsman would bow his head, crossing his right arm over his plated chest. And then Sors had to go and be extra.
(Artaghh)
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 Trekking fourth with an icicle jutting out of his neck! Maybe that wasn't the most pleasant image for the peasant guard - Frowning at the fact he wasn't even gazed at! This wouldn't do! No, no! Advancing to address the guard.

"I aspired ta-.. GHRK." Croaking out each word! What an inconvenience; lifting a hand to the icicle before tightly grasping it - before yanking it out of his throat; covered in ichorous blood and viscera.

Can't address this "Kerafym" looking like a murder victim; Nor the guard; ignoring the gaping entrance wound, Crimson trailed down his pale neck.

"Simple.. I'm here cause I was fuckin' ordered to! and I aspire to grow beyond my strength and inherit capabilities." Surviving would be nice too, his glance shift between Sirocco, then the commander and then Jessi...

Hearing every whisper.

"I'd also like a scarf to cover my neck."
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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 A slight squint of the Paladins eyes as he'd look away from the man.. this took him a bit by surprise in all honesty.

He hadn't thought much into his own ordeals in quite a while, the maelstrom of duty and home had kept him a bit busy in chasing his own ideals. However, this was a good opportunity to reiterate his life's ultimate plan.

Sifting through his separation with his wife in the past month, and the onset of another child on the way, he did take his time in finding a genuine answer to bring to light.

"How curious....very well. I suppose what I want, is to find stability again...either through mastering mind, body, and soul or in advance who Chroma really is....evolution."

Taking a hand to his chin he'd then look to the man in contemplation...a part of him felt like he should've lied, however he trusted everyone here, and his ideals weren't anything shady--unlike the Adjudicator's apparently.

He lifted a brow to Sors' explanation...and then simply gave a shrug.

He was the Boogeyman, after all.
(Chroma Zanders)
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 Artaghh whispers: Yeah, tha's the beast's name. Didn' know how'ta spell it.
{NARRATION} He first nods to Jessi.

"Ye' heard that one before."

He shrugs. Deep down he knew she wanted to die. Don't ask how though.

With Sirocco whispering in his ear he winces. A bit too close for comfort but it's a job he had to do.

"Sure, sure."

Sors gave his answer and... The guard frowns.

"Dunno what I did to ya ser but alright. Fair enough."

He quivers a bit.

"Ain't no one ever wish for that before..."

He glances to the remaining few.

Chaaca wanted to protect his friends.

"Funny place to get roped along into."

Vedran was ordered to.

"Look brawny enough, didn't think you'd take orders. Also a scarf, noted."

Chroma was a bit insane.

"Ain't gonna find stability on a dragon and demon infested mountain but ya do you. Evolution though." He winks.



And finally he looks towards Artaghh and gives him a grin.

"Well put! Ser Artaghh, knight o'ta Green Hill, I wish you the best of luck in Kerafym's Arena. No better place to sate your wanderlust and your blades thrist than 'er."

With everything out of the way he'd move. The doors would open and reveal...

A massive arena. It looks like a colosseum, a normal arena, whatever you'd want to call it.

Wooden stands for the extras to watch. A bloody center stage for the brave to fight in (with plenty of fresh blood). And three thrones in three spots across the Arena's radius. Each occupied by a... mutated being.

Part dragon, part man, and seemingly elemental in nature? Weird.

The party sees a brawl come to an end. A massive iron knight and his apparent band stop and look towards them.
[23:07] Chaaca's eyes widened as he entered the arena. Holy shit this place was cool. His eyes would dart around it as he soaked took in the sight. This was gonna be fun.... Except not at all. Dear Azreal was this going to be painful.

His eyes continued to dart along the Arena until they eventually landed on the three thrones, and the three strange creatures that rested upon them. Huh, he'd scratch his head as he stared them down, he'd never seen anything like them. From what he could tell they seemed to be... Mutated Dragon people? So that's neat.

Blue eyes then rested upon the armored man and his party. Chaaca tilted his head to the side as he stared them down. With his hands still resting upon the back of his head, he'd glance at his group.

He'd let them take the lead in this situation, either way he'd feel the urge to say this.

"Should we have to kill any of these guys, I'll make sure to not... Y'know, break all the bones in their bodies."

Yea, he didn't want Sors to glare at him again... That wasn't fun.
(Chaaca Khan)
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 There was a deeper want within Sors, to claim the dragon corpse and make it his own. But such deeper ideals were completely forgone as the guard, though no fault of his own, managed to snag the ire of the Adjucator. The corruption that flowed from his ring, the corruptive sensation and whispers of betrayal in his ears, combined with his always present tunnel vision as the guard moved.

More quiet whispers about how he would torment the guard and his family fill the air, but underneath the sound of the arena's battles, it is all but hushed. The insults certainly weren't forgettable, but the more important arrival in the arena and the three thrones took bigger presence.

"This tha' first obstacle? O' jus another guide?"

He paused hearing Chaaca's next words.

"Ya allowed ta do tha' ta the door axe guy. Him specifically."
(Sors Ultovex)
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 Ser Artaghh would give the door guard a thumbs up of non-murderous intent as the party made their way into the depths of the colosseum, puffing away once more at his corn cob pipe as he glanced across the expanse of the stage. The knight's heart pumped with excitement at the thought of entering a grand melee in such a fine locale, and the commander knew that were he not sworn to Dawn's glory and oathbound to follow through with their purpose, perhaps this arena could have been a home for him. For men to dream of becoming dragons....it was the path of warriors.

Well, soon to be dead warriors.

Gripping his greatsword's handle tight as he stared down the iron knight fearlessly, the bald swordsman would swagger forth a few feet before theatrically pointing his blade at the challenger with a bold flourish. This was an arena after all, they needed to put on a show. "It's ye' or us big man! I prefer us. I am Ser Artaghh, these are my merry men an' individual cat woman, an' its time'ta die."
(Artaghh)
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 Artaghh says, "Oh this is the killy par' Sors."
 Sors Ultovex says, "Who knows. If they giv' up an' die without a fite, I'll let 'em serve as ma undead fer tha' fite after."
Stepping into the light of the colosseum, Chroma immediately took out his weapons again as he looked to the formed masses.

Odd draconic mutant people were around, but oddly enough they didn't seem to be Drakonites in their physiology. With a sense of narrowed attention he would take his stand amongst the others and intend to make it out of this alive.

He'd hear Chaaca's words, and then nod as he only went for the essentials in taking these people out precisely. And continuing along that train of thought he'd feel the riveting adrenaline of tugging between worlds in order to ensue they were the ones making it out of here.

"A formation might help us physical fighters...though anything goes so long as we survive. Rip and tear? Very well."
(Chroma Zanders)
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 Sirocco fixes his attention on the strange dragon-like beings who sat upon the thrones. He had seen his fair share of Drakanites, but these seemed different. Perhaps more pure than the others.. Some sort of ancestor or .. some kin of their perhaps?

Eventually he tears his eyes away from the strange beings to the band of warriors before them. They seemed rather hardened, but that was to be expected from any who found themselves here.

In fact this entire adventure had turned out to be something straight out of one of the old legends. A band, a mysterious quest, warriors of glory, and promises of treasure.

That brought a faint smile to the Sarradian's lips. If anyone would lead them to such a place it would be Ser Artaghh of The Green Hill after all. As the Commander speaks his intention to them Sirocco raises his arm and it begins to whine.

An ethereal shield of occult energy for protecting his body, his staff held at end like a phalanx soldier. Itseemed they had found their next quarry and the crowd was waiting for blood now doubt.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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 Floating just above the ground she would enter the arena, amber-orange gaze drawn to the... yeah those. Since her consumption of the Spirit she couldn't be said to be entirely a normal Nagual any longer either. Her own being slightly elemental in nature.

She catches the end of whatever the current bout was, some man in heavy iron armor stopping to look. But he wasn't alone.

The Warden smiled, sharp incisors seen.

These were her favorite kinds of fights...

Blackened bolts erupting around her form once more the Nagual would finally let out a roar, the sound obviously not her own. It was the sound of the Spirit, who bore a form akin to a lion.

The sound a thunderclap that reverberates throughout the area, a sound that had been heard over Dawn's forces for over a decade. A sound for all to know who was fighting in those lines.

She didn't feel the need to speak, her intentions should be clear. As soon as the first move was made, she would already be gone.
(Jessi Ultovex)
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"Ah! From the homeland?"

he'd chatter and clap.

"Greetings, from Bhaldrithe."

to anyone familiar his clothing had hints of Feleran heritage to it. Yet his body was a mix of winds and scales. A true mutant.


The northern throne explodes in a rush of jeers.

"The Demon-kin. Those who've destroyed my home and forced me into this arena. Disgusting, I hope Roland can deal with you."

He crackles with electricity.

Yet the Eastern throne remains silent. A dark fiery man sits and watches. With nothing to add.

The Iron man at the center would step forward and point his weapon towards the group. "I AM ROLA-"

He'd but cut out by Jessi's outburst. Electricity knocking off a few of Roland's men and spooking the rest. The Arena would quickly fall into disarray. And a battle would start.



 Artaghh says, "We went down next to each other like champs."
 Jessi Ultovex says, "Pft"
Sors Ultovex asks, "Does this guy got a family?"
Sors Ultovex says, "I want ta kill tha' family."

** SawbonesDM has inflicted an injury upon Artaghh. ("ULTRAsmashed! Nose.", "The full force of Roland's shoulder went crashing into your face. Breaking your nose, and thankfully nothing else.", "Temporary", "Duration: Short (1 day)") **

 The battle erupted, an onslaughter of soilders vs the strongest forces of Dawn. The group had more then slight difficulty, being pushed back as the battle began. Yet there was one thing that managed to absolutely set of the Adjucator.

"Demon-kin? YOU TAKE ME FOR A SLAVE!?! "

From that point on there was no mercy. The undead drew their swords and their bows, lobbing attack after attack after the ground, and the Whispering Eye was drawn his back. He didn't aim to kill with his magic, no, the needles merely punctured their legs and aimed to move them out of working condition. Chains rended limbs from those who fought against them, and the Adjudicator would finish the men himself, taking the Whispering Eye and slamming the staffs down on their heads, sending blood splatters. Not once, but barbarically until he moved onto the next.

"I am no slave o' any demon. I am an Archon slayer. I am a man who killed 'em demons ya so afraid o', an' ripped out their heart. An' then I stole their power from them fer ma own studies. An' ya dare say I am some kind o' the demons?

I am nothin' if not human."

The iron man at that point got the jump on the Adjudicator. Sors was sent sprawling on his back as the green eyes stared at the iron man. Gravity lifted the Adjudicator back up as chains fired from his hand. The battle stared again, but every attack was empowered by extra malice. Needles sunk into the flesh of the man as Roland was alone, aiming to leave scratches and bind instead of kill instantly.

A moment taken for Roland to try to catch his breath was all that was needed. Astral force surrounded the Adjudicator as he flew forward, his hand diving into the chest of the combatant and gripping the heart inside.

" I am human. I am slave ta no bein' greater then maself. My benefit is for maself. "

The heart is squeezed into a red paste that would leak from Roland's chest, then he threw the fighter to the ground, stomping on the head to crush it.

"How dare ya call ma anything different."
(Sors Ultovex)
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Ser Artaghh would leap into the glorious melee of the gladiatory arena with satisfaction and grand amusement, letting loose in a vigorous brawl of sifting energy, clanking metal, and sparks of clashing blades as the knight dove directly into the fray. The iron champion Rola, who never did manage to finish his name and introduction with the whole Jessi schtick, was the focus of Artaghh’s onslaught, each matched swing straining the peasant swordsman’s tendons as he was forced back and forth across the arena’s stage.

Yet, the crowd’s cheers were fueling the knight, motivating him to carry on and engage in the show for their love, for the glory and spirit of the arena, and for bloodshed! Ser Artaghh found that he hadn’t felt so alive in quite some time, not since he’d stared down the Swuisarme King so many years ago and faced death firsthand before. This, the commander realized, was what he lived for. And what he was willing to die for. As the swordsman’s stamina waned, the iron knight of energy’s elbow plate would find itself firmly smashed into Artaghh’s nose, shattering the cartilage and spurting blood forth as the paladin was knocked onto his backplate and disoriented. Well, at least he wasn’t pretty already.

Ser Artaghh would grip his nose with a winded heave of his strained lungs, slowly regaining his knocked out breathe as blood poured through the seams of his hand. He felt a bit disoriented from the blow, but it wasn’t the sort of wound that would keep the mithril paladin down. Wiping a bit of ichorous, crimson snot from his face, the knight’s one eye focused just in time to see Sors pull that pull that full evil overlord shit and straight up crush a dude’s heart before curb stomping them. That’s how they did it in Dawn’s hood.

"Huh Sors, ye' think he'll 'ave an 'eadache?"

(Artaghh)
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The Sarradin mage was not in the main fray other than a few tornadoes meant to chase down his quarry. Instead he was focused on picking off the lesser men that surrounded Rola. That was all of his name he managed to hear before Jessi launched in.

With practices ease he managed to dispatch the buffer between his comrades and the true threat of the battlefield. Lightning, occult, and wind mingled into an ominous storm as he channeled his corrupted magicks against the peons.

One after another fell with relative ease and he turned his attention to Rola, but not soon enough as the expert warrior had already set his sight on the diminutive mage.

In the next instant a searing cold pain erupted in his side, a crack resonating in his body so hard that his ears popped from the change of pressure in his core.

It was a distinct feeling.. Bone snapping. it was always the same when that happened. A shock of pain, a complete lack of sensation, and then a queasy feeling asall sensation returned slowly until it reached a crescendo of agony.

Sirocco gasps for breath then clenches his teeth. A blast of wind hurls him away from his assailant only agitating the fresh wound. The coppery taste of blood fills his mouth.. From biting his cheek or internal bleeding he could not tell just yet.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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 The Nagual dropped a cloud of holy lightning raining it on the soldiers before beginning to pick them off where she could. Laying down bursts or fields of holy magic to weaken and eventually kill the ones her allies didn't.

Though before one fell to her impressive display of magic an arrow would find itself embedded somewhere in her chest, likely glancing off of her mythril lung. The Nagual was incapable of feeling pain, instead muttering one word as she continued fighting for now without a second glance.

"Unfortunate."

Likely that shattered some morale. The fact she just ignored an arrow to the chest as she slayed the smaller foes then turned her attention to the larger. Only to see him struck down by Sors.

With a shrug she says,

"Can someone pull this out?"
(Jessi Ultovex)
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What is this dreadful luck?! Another roaring battle, with Roland and his merry men of banditry! Ignoring that highly-visible and loud thunderclap, which was both beautiful and fucking annoying-.. Vedran drew his sword back and blitzed across the field once more! Only.. this time?

He'd be careful! Cutting down bandit after bandit, hacking them to ribbons but-.. NOT ALL OF THEM! As one pulled back his bowstring, taking aim at the ravenous vampire; before letting the arrow fly loose...

Again, it dead-eyed precision? It found it's mark... "Oh my go-.." Piercing a spot right next to where the last wound was located! Knocked off his feet; but he didn't even gurgle, sputter or go limp! No... the Cainite was sprawled out with an annoyed look across his face!

"Not again.."

Shattering the arrow lodged into his neck before pulling the pieces out.

What a bad joke!

Reaching into his pack with a muffled growl, before the Vampire revealed an elixir of healing! "Gonna need this, cheers!"

(Vedran Ivanovich)
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 Sirocco Vishkar says, "Ngh, I am afraid I need some Lax Essence or this will be quite a pest."
 Sirocco Vishkar says, "I am willing to pay the premium price, obviously."
 Vedran Ivanovich says, "Don't have any on me.."
 Hunkering down, amidst all of the mayhem. The Paladin would make his stand, weaving in and out of the flow and ebb of this war-like haze. The might of such a man, with his Energy Magic was just the type of fight he was after, at the end of the day.

Seeing a correlation between his technique, and Artaghh's he would dance and predict his moves, shifting only certain places of his body into the land that lay just beyond as they'd have just narrowly avoided impact.

Falling forth off of the momentum, and latent mana that was given off from a fellow energy user, the raw mana was used to bolster his defenses and replenish his mana, working to save himself in one final dip, as he crossed, appearing back in the physical world with some careful effort, and meditative prowess to slam Roland in the back forwards...well at least until the Ultovexian Boogeyman got ahold of him.

Watching as the angered Adjudicator turned him into a morbid work of grotesque expression as he'd go in for another strike, he could finally allow himself to halt his charge, opting to dispel some spirits about instead.

"What a way to go....Note to self, never call Sors anything that isn't true."

Content at that last quip, he'd crane his neck, looking to the other challenger that had looked on as they slew his comrade. His gaze turning into a squint, his eyes burned in a continued war-path as his soul hardened and grew into the task of completing this trial.
(Chroma Zanders)
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Oh god, oh fuck. There were a LOT of people coming at him.

With a fair amount of force he'd smash his staff into the ground, as the pleasant noise that normally eminates from the crystal becomes much harsher on the ears, well for the enemies anyways. Chaaca had figured out a way to prevent his allies from hearing his horrific noises ages ago.

Oh, and you might be asking yourself, "What was that noise?" It was the sound of a baby crying rather loudly, but! Imbued with enough sound magic to harm his enemies. Mhm, everything was going to plan. Until...

CRASH, he felt the axe Roland crash into his side, sending him spiraling back into one of the pillars that were littered around the arena. Well, he was still kinda fine. Just a bit of a gash on his side, sure it hurt, but he'd manage.

It was then that he felt something was off, no it wasn't Sors doing his evil boogeyman speech, no... Something was really off. He'd reach into his pocket to check to see if everything was alright. Sadly...

It wasn't.

His Kazoo, his poor, poor Kazoo. It was... No he couldn't even think about it, as he pulled the small shattered kazoo out from his pocket, craddaling it as if it was his own child. It was dead... His kazoo was dead.

Chaaca sat in silence as he leaned up against the pole. Why? Why his kazoo, it was innocent and pure! It didn't deserve such a fate. This was the greatest loss that Chaaca had ever experienced.

Yes even greater then when Theo died.
(Chaaca Khan)
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{NARRATION} The stands erupt! Cheers for the bloodshed! They were going crazy! To see a true knight like Artaghh wade into the fray. To see the brutality and sadism of Sors. The explosive show from Jessi.

There would be nothing greater for them.

Yet the Three would watch, intently. Only the man from Bhaldrithe would dare make a noise. Joining the crowd's chants and hollers. Reveling in the bloodshed and chaos.

Bodies fly as Sirocco sends tornado after tornado. To see a Vampire cut down opponent after opponent was something truly unique for everyone. But it was nothing compared to Chroma joining in with Artaghh. Two knights who've mastered similar powers. Ecstatic.

There'd bit a brief moment of silence. Somehow the crowd knew Chaaca's kazoo was destroyed. Or maybe it was all in his head, getting chopped into by a large axe is a bit of an experience.


As Sor's hand dug itself into Roland's chest, the friendly Ascendant would stand yet again and cheer.

"Yes! Perfect! I, Kord of Wind, sponsor them. I give them my blessing to see Kerafym's Dream."


Yet the other two weren't happy.

The one to call Sors a demon would stand.

"I, Nixilis of Lightning, reject it. They might be strong but they don't have much else."

Finally, the silent man to the east would stand.

"I, Vronos of Fire, agree with Nixilis. But let us hear them out."

All three would stare at the group. Waiting for... something.
 Nixilis says, "...Kazoo...weakness...frail..."
 Chaaca Khan exclaims, "What... What was that? Are you talking about my Kazoo? DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY KAZOO!"
 Nixilis says, "...crack.."
The heart had been crushed into paste, and the red that remained splattered to the floor at the Ultovex's feet. Grey and gold narrowed as the Whispering Eye raises, smacking into the head of the corpse to spill it's blood on the floor. His gaze slowly moved up.

"Nixilis, huh? I am Lord Ultovex, leader o' Dawn. I am no slave o' anyone. There are no strings on ma. An' I am mor' then jus' power. Power is jus' one o' many utilities."

A snap filled the air as a portal of purple and green shined behind Lord Ultovex, several skeletons stepping out from behind their summoner before the rifts close.

"Ya say we ain't got much else. Ya are wrong, wrong as when ya proclaimed ma a slave. Ya know nothin' Nixilis. Ya will is weak."

He looked backwards, glaring. "Weaker then Chaaca's, cryin' over a Kazoo. Sentimentality is weakness. Attachment ta thangs is weakness. Wha' mor' would I got ta say?"

The Whispering Eye is held tightly in a gloved hand, the Arcanium scooped up by the ground by invisible hissing like a snake. Chains rattled around Lord Ultovex as he stared down the pair of beings before them.

"An' if ya agree wit' him, ya wrong too."
(Sors Ultovex)
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 Ser Artaghh would wipe down his blade with his cloak, cleansing it entirely of blood before taking another swab at the bloody snot that coated his face. Pacing forward beside his fellow companions of Dawn, the knight of the Green Hill would stand beside his fellows and raise his blade in triumph, bowing his head respectfully to Kord before turning his attention to the other pair.

"We are blooded, Rol stands fallen. We seek'ta see the dream wit' our own eyes. Well, eye in my case. If we've nae proven to ye' enoug', ye' are welcome'ta try our hand an' gauge our competences. Bu' these are the arena's sands, an' blood mus' flow."
(Artaghh)
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 Nixilis asks, "...Weak...?"
 Yea, no. NO. None of that shit.

The Sirenian got to his feet. For once in his life he felt an unbridle rage take over him. The radiant light around Chaaca began to expand, as he gripped his trident with both of his hands. It was gone, the one thing he loved more than anything else in his life was gone, and there was no way to bring it back. Even Necromancy wouldn't work on his poor Kazoo.

Dead, all of them had to die.

Once more his music change, it's soothing waves were replaced with something far harsher. No longer would it be the simple sound of a baby crying, no. It'd be something far worse than that. It wouldn't be a single baby crying, no... It'd be a whole ARMY of babies crying.

Clearly that would have to suffice for now.

His trident was then aimed at the two monstrosities that laid before him, as his bloodshot blue eyes rested on them. They'd be dead soon enough, no words needed to be wasted on them.
(Chaaca Khan)
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 "More's always fun in spades.... Though. As you three can see, we've done well, no? The bald one and I share similar gifts to the fallen warrior, and seeing where we are...that must count for something as we've triumphed here..no?"

Now that he was joined by yet more mutated people, Chroma seemed to be having a bit of fun with it, however he wasn't ever truly above making a narrative, or at least attempting to talk thins over before needing to stab them repeatedly.

Fully expecting Jessi to toss a lightning bolt again though, his guard was still up, and his Super Magi abilities were swirling in a beautiful unison alongside his Mystician's comprehension. Finding a more muted, and calm approach to this onset even amidst the pumping of his heart within his chest.

Nodding to Sors and Artaghh, though he would wonder what they should make of this. Perhaps they weren't as savage as they looked? Or...well, Chaaca may have been a bit too far gone to chat.
(Chroma Zanders)
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 Chaaca had enough sense to attack whoever Sors and Artaghh were... He wasn't dumb enough to try to fight both of them... Right?
(Chaaca Khan)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Since no one else seemed inclined to aid their ally at the moment. The Nagual pulls the arrow from her chest and tosses it to the ground. Healing magic would stop the bleeding but not much else.

Though pain couldn't cripple her, internal bleeding eventually would. She had to be careful for a bit. She knew she had a potion to fix such things, but she left it where it was... she would rather save it as long as she's able.

At the speeches of the three... beings.. she would shake her head softly towards the two who rejected whatever it was they needed to see. Kerafym's Dream.

The Nagual would flare the full extent of the lightning she bore inside, the faint outline of a lion shaped beast made of lightning forming around her, eyes glowing gold.

For those who had never seen it, it was the shape of the Spirit.

The lightning surrounding her becomes more wild the bolts arcing to strike the ground around her.

"You.. know nothing of us..?"

The pressure was building in the Naguals mind, the same pressure that prevented her from feeling.

(Jessi Ultovex)
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Nixilis says, "Weak...all..."
Nixilis says, "Weak of will...weak of sound..."
Nixilis says, "Weak...items."
Nixilis says, "Hairlines...too."
Sirocco glances between the figures as his leaders speak their minds on the matter. In truth it was of no great importance if they were denied, but it would make for a droll walk back home.

That and his orders to follow were reason enough to be concerned anyways, but Chaaca had lost someone close to him. Something in truth, but he treated it real enough that all things considered it mattered anyways.

Nullified energy begins to surround the Paladin taking away the ache in his side. He would only make matters worse until he could rest and have them mended in time, but it was better than letting them see weakness.

These lords of the Arena thought they were unworthy, but if he knew Lord Ultovex or Commander Artaghh well as he thought there would be a fight regardless of their proclamation.

Either it would happen in The Dream or in The Reality.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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 Sors Ultovex says, "I'd say tha' weakest here, is ya."
 Chaaca Khan exclaims, "Your hair? Whack. Your gear? Whack. Your jewlery? Whack. Your foot stance? Whack. The way that you talk? Whack. The way that you don't even like to smile? Whack. Me? I'M TIGHT AS FUCK!"
 {NARRATION} A blue light would materialize. Floating above the arena. The energy dances amongst an object, something vaguely human shaped.

Yet there was no time for that, a challenge had been issued and Dawn had given its rebuttal. Filled with bravado and valor which was to be expected at this point.




Vronos looks to the sky and sees the light. He'd know what it meant. Giving a slight nod.

"We've been told to challenge all of you. I can't hold ill will towards your people. Dawn might've hunted my master and I in the past, but, Malentine was the true culprit. Destroying the only place I could call home.

But it's meaningless. Know Kerafym watches us now. Let your strength and resolve show if you're worthy of his blessing."


With that, the battle would start.

 Nixilis asks, "Oh...this human...approaches me?"
 Artaghh says, "I can't kick your ass until I ge' closer to ye'."

 {NARRATION} The Ascendants bodies crack and grow unstable. Pure elemental power pours out and surrounds each.

A stormhead gives birth to to a new creature. An elemental of pure electricity. It looms over Nixilis.

The Earth around Vronos bubbles and boils, crawling up his figure until a crystal being covers his body.

 Ser Artaghh would would engage the arrogant Nixilis in single melee combat without fear, trudging forth towards they that sought to challenge the character and balls of Dawn's finest with insults, words....empty words. Though the knight was seared into the ground by the first barrage of the beast, and he felt his old wounds aching from the singe of lightning and magma, the core of energy magic was one's second wind, and the bald swordsman had no time for loud mouths.

Slamming the hilt of his Nyeshk greatsword into Nixilis' snout with concentrated, mystically accelerated force as the knight grew enraged by the arrogance of this dragon pretender. They were not yet the foe that the companions sought, and their end would not be a pleasant one. Ser Artaghh wondered how easy it would be to talk the good shit when there was a hole in your chest.

Gripping the Drakan's floored person, Artaghh would lift Nixilis over his head with a concentration, blood soaking down his plate from the brutal wounds he'd endured in the battle at hand. His heaving, farmer's musculature bulged and expanded to the peak of his limits, pulsating energy simmering below the surface of the bald swordsman's scarred physique. Smiling lightly to the Drakan, he would give them a wink, or was it a blink? He only had one eye.

"Ye' talk a'lo'. More than me? Shush." Ser Artaghh would smash the man who tried to become a dragon and failed down upon the jagged stone, impaling them with a vicious snap of bone and ripping tear of organs as Nixillis was left propped up on the spike to bleed out. "Now. Go on.....talk."
(Artaghh)
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 Nixilis says, "...Fuck....You."
 The war raged on, a titanic flurry of Dawn's brightest vying to rise above and beyond, to survive the onslaught of these two brothers despite the flair of their true and latent abilities coming to fruition they needed to be within unison, and fighting all for the goal of advancing to their ultimate destination.

As the Crystalline visage appeared behind the Warrior, Chroma would take his time in attacking him, dancing between the pillars, and narrowly avoiding the bubbling maw of his volcanic prowess, the Super Magi would grit his teeth as he jumped between planes with supreme efficiency, flipping over arcs of charcoal lightning aimed at his target, sound waves, and chaos barreling inwards, but in the end, he could slash away the guard of molten rock to get a vital blink or miss it opening.

Understanding the gravity of this situation, the Red Paladin too, didn't know ill will for the thespian of lava, but in the end, he was in the way, and Dawn didn't take kindly to things standing in their path...they destroyed inconveniences, and in that hypersonic action his blade was furthered by his spirit intermingling in the act.

Enacting a powerful slam that quaked the colosseum, he would embed the man into the wall with a sickening CRASH.

Two large blue teal palms of mana would rip a pillar from the ground, and narrowing, they'd chuck it Vronos' way before he could react. Riding atop it, the scarlet swordsman would gracefully backflip from his rid as the crunching collision of the pillar, and his flesh created a morbid end.

A simple glare over his shoulder to the scene to see what he was capable of in the heat of the moment, before he'd give a final anecdote, his form flickering back into the mortal plane.

"Rest well.."
(Chroma Zanders)
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 Sirocco Vishkar asks, "Does anyone have any spare Lax Essence?"
 Chroma Zanders says, "Aye."
Jessi Ultovex says, "Didn't bring one.."
 Chroma Zanders says, "I'm quite prepared."
 She had launched herself initially at the other lightning magi, doing her best to counter their mutual abilities. Though after it seemed the situation was well in hand by Artaghh she would shift focus to the fire magi.

The channeled holy storm raining blackened bolts, that may look evil, still bore intense holy mana.

She didn't expect him to turn on her as quickly as he did, dealing her some severe burns judging by the scent on the air before she tossed him back to Chroma with a javelin of lightning..

After he was then dispatched by the Red Paladin, she turned to see the other embedded on a stone spike.

Still floating softly she could tell her body was wearing down, pain or not, blood was dripping from her armor. Her own. She glanced at the burns... weak spots that make her more susceptible to future injury.

Unfortunate.

She pulls a flask from her side, like one would use for alcohol. She drains the contents, injuries healing. Blood still dripped from her armor, just none of it no longer new.

"Wonder if we have approval now."

(Jessi Ultovex)
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Sirocco had been engaged against Nixilis focusing his supportive abilities on the dragon-like man to inhibit his abilities so that the others could effectively employ their tactics against him.

It was difficult to work his dark winds and bursts against the man's holy light and so his attention was focused beyond his surroundings. A pillar of flame was noticed too late engulfing the Sarradian.

Instinctively the world around him began to lose its color as he drew energy from everything around him to shield himself from the flames. Mentally he had withdrawn to weather the fiery storm, but his foe had turned on him.

The barrier he had erected was strong enough to ward off the flames, but the crash of exorcizing light was too much. His occult shield began to splinter and crack.

White lightning around his fizzled into black smoke as he lost hold of his purified occult and a rush of maddened whispers began to resound in his skull. For so long he had held them all at bay, but now the dam crashed.

Artaghh will kill you, he brought you here to die.
Sors murdered your master just to watch you suffer.
Chroma never cared for you, he is part of the plot.
Jessika thought you were weak, she recruited you to watch you fail.
Vedran lied, he never served the Vishkars. He was there to watch you.
Chaaca is a Gehennan spy, keeping tabs on your exile.

The madness whirled through his mind, all of his formed 'comrades' suddenly seeming much more imposing. Any looks of concern seemed more sinister.. They were looks of anticipation. They were waiting on him to die.

He exhales hard, a hand to his stomach in the familiar gesture. His ribs were hurting from the damage they had taken earlier and reflexively he begins to shroud himself in the impure occult energy to take the painaway.

His head was pounding with maddening cacophony of whispers. Had it been seconds, minutes, hours? He stood there, partially doubled over wheezing in ragged breaths, his eyes darting about.

After some indiscernible amount of time the insidious cast of his friends began to fade. They were no longer malevolent shadows in his periphery waiting for his demise, analyzing a time to strike..

Instead they were just less trustworthy than he had thought before, their flaws exaggerated in his mind. He eyes them all warily preferring to keep his distance for the time being.. Just in case.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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 Another fight, Wiping the sweat from his brow, failing to back-down like he should've; They'd make it through... together! Love. Friends. Family. All that sentimental bullshit! … Also because Sors would shoot a pointed glare at their corpses, otherwise! So resurrect them, THEN GLARE!

Shouting through the fight "I! AM VEDRAN IVANOVICH! THE BLOOD PALADIN! SOLE INTERESTING VAMPIRE OF DAWN-... and I SHALL NOT DIE... again, TODAY!" Yelling loudly for the dramatic tension, really.

Also to see the sound waves fly across the room, his gaze swiveled across the room; eventually landing on the emotionally-dead nagual; and WOW! Did that hurt his eyes and nose... That was before the holylighting magi of the fearsome mutated duo blasted him across the stone floor; sensory overload ensued..

Shakily, he rose while both Magi were swiftly dispatched by Artaghh and Chroma; yet.. the Cainite felt weakened.

Vulnerable.

Keeping a loose grip on his odachi, it wouldn't be long before they'd trudge forward forward, they wouldn't halt until they were dead...

"Come on lads, we got us a dragon to kill." Looking rather disheveled, taken enough wounds that'd kill your ordinary magi.
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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 With his holy energy raging all around him, Chaaca got to work, ducking and diving in between the pillars, as he avoided the two mutants. Stalking, waiting for his chance to let lose on them. Those bastards were the reason for his broken Kazoo.

Clearly it wasn't their fault, but poor Chaaca was too enraged to notice, or care about that.

With his sound magic, joining in with his holy magic, the Sirenian rushed in and assaulted the senses of the mutants with his sound magic, before ducking out again. His eyes darted towards Artaghh, and Sors. His blue eyes rested up Artaghh first. He seemed fine, nothing to really worry about there.

His blue eyes then darted towards where Sors was, right he seemed fine. As soon as he thought this, his eyes darted towards Nixilis. Oh god, oh fuck. What he saw was a rather large amount of holy energy making its way towards the Adjudicator, and seeing as he Sors was an occultist? Yea, that was a bad mix.

There wasno thought that crossed through his mind, his body moved on it's own to intercept the attack, as a small shield of light forms around him. It didn't help.

As soon as he made contact with the large amount of holy energy, the shield cracked, and shattered. Wow! What a good use of mana that was. Weird thing to think while your entire body was being smited, but hey these things happen.

Balling his hands into a fist, he'd grit his teeth as he felt a searing pain course through his chest. It lasted for a few moments, before it faded. Huh, he had expected something far worse than that. It was at that moment something overcame him. A single word began to course through his mind over and over again.

Protect

He'd rise to his feet as he glanced around at his party, as a rather strange glowing wound could be seen on his chest. Protect, he needed to keep everyone safe.

Even if it killed him.

(Chaaca Khan)
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Pain wracked Lord Ultovex's body, but as the battle continued he stood, doing his best to keep up with the damage the others were inflicting. Despite that, the two seemed to have more power then initially suspected. Flames and burning hot magma covered the ground, trying to melt him through as his arms raised up. The blade of Vronos was all too apt to deal with him, followed by Nixilis' lightning.

The lightning seemed to surge towards Lord Ultovex. The Blue eye stared toward it before suddenly the attack was intercepted. A rift opened moments too late to step out of the way, but it seemed that another was hit first. Grey and gold come into focus on Chacca in silence, watching as the Paladin grit his teeth.

"Convenient o' ya, Chaaca."

It was not all for not. As the battle waged, they gained more and more of an upper hand. Before he knew it, Lord Ultovex gazed at the lightning weilder punctured on a rock, then the slamming sound as Vronos hit the wall. Sors' gaze would be pointed at each, watching with approval, a simple nod of the head.

His breaths were infrequent before Sors turned on a dime and looked towards the one remaining judge, expecting something much like they had of the group at first.
(Sors Ultovex)
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Jessi Ultovex says, "Jessi.exe WONT FUCKING DIE"
 {NARRATION}
With Artaghh and Chroma's slaying of the Ascendants, the final obstacle was out of the way. The Ascendants lie dead, and their bodies dissipate. Not being able to sustain such a broken form any longer. Yet the last remains very impressed. Hooting and hollering throughout the entire fight.

Two mutated hearts remain where they once were.

"You have my blessing, I summon down Kerafym's Avatar."

And with his words, the blue mass of energy descends. From it emerges the wild and dancing image of a drakanite. Wings in full view.

"Two of my Ascendants dead. By the looks of it, Valmasians, interesting you all are."

Its body crackles and jolts.

"You'll all be allowed within my domain, if that's what you wish. But at a cost of one of your one, of course. I'm but a body short of what I'd like."


 Taking a small step forwards. Chroma would recognize the aura coursing around the Avatar's person, wiping away some excess magma from his person. He wasn't sure what that meant...but he still had his own questions regarding what he could accomplish.

"That energy is so...familiar, but whatever do you mean? Are you asking to reside within another being..?"
(Chroma Zanders)
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 Kerafyrm asks, "You haven't caught on yet?"
 Vedran Ivanovich says, "Not at all."
 After the fight the Nagual didn't dissipate her lightning... instead a bit of blood leaks from her nose... the price of holding her power back even for a short time.

"The test.. was for his new body?"
(Jessi Ultovex)
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A blue mass of energy descended, in the form of a drakanite. It was not what they needed to fight to get to their objective, but another obstacle in the front of the group. Grey and gold narrow before looking backwards.

"Tha' door man still here? Ain't mind if we use 'im ta pay fer tha' cost o' tha' one."

And then the necromancer does the somewhat obvious thing. Rather then try to sacrifice one of their own, the Ultovex just sent one of the many weak undead under his command forward. The practical answer.
(Sors Ultovex)
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Sirocco rubs his head as the dazzling form of Kerafym appears. He was feeling better, but it did seem a bit more than coincidence that suddenly this strange thing was asking for a noble sacrifice. The type he would make.

Were the whispers driving him to do something irrational or saving him from the action. They were a part of him so it would make sense that they would try to act in self-preservation or.. No, no.

He closes his eyes for a moment blocking out the sights and the sounds as he attempts to ground himself. He could approach this with a cautious attitude and disprove it.

Then it would all turn out fine and he could meditate on healing the rift in his nullification energies. Yes.. Just be cautious.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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Chroma Zanders says, "If that's not enough, then I'll volunteer. A spirit bearing that energy can only be tamed by one that understands it. And I have a mild idea."
Vedran Ivanovich says, "... "
Jessi Ultovex says, ".."
Vedran Ivanovich says, "What a stupid fuckin' idea.."
Vedran Ivanovich says, "That ain't why we're here."
Chaaca would fold his arms across his chest, as he raised a single eyebrow as he listened to the dragon, and his party speak. Right, the whole thing with this being a test to get this thing a new body made sense... Probably. Then Sors did the reasonable thing, and sent an unde-... CHROMA WHY DO YOU DO THESE THINGS?

"Chroma, I swear you're a fucking moron."



(Chaaca Khan)
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Ser Artaghh would glance over the ethereal Drakan with a cross of his burn scarred arms over the black plate of his cuirass, puffing away lightly at his corn cob pipe as he mulled over avatar's words. So had that been the purpose of the melee, was this Drakan but a being of pure energy? He'd heard of dragons taking the cloak of humanoids, but this....seemed very literal.

"An' wha' happens....if we don' give one'a our own?"
(Artaghh)
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 Sors Ultovex says, "Chroma, how many times do I got ta tell ya. Dyin' is inconvienent. Don't do it."
 Chroma Zanders says, "Mnh..."
 Chaaca Khan says, "Aye, please stop being a moron."
 Kerafyrm says, "Ah, I expected you not to give one. It'd just make things easier for me."
Kerafyrm asks, "You're all hellbent on killing me, is it?"
 Chroma Zanders says, "You heard the crowd."
 Sors Ultovex says, "But will ya take tha' doorman o' the undead? They are jus' bodies."
 Kerafyrm says, "Their blood isn't good enough, simply put. Those of such lowly births are worthless."
 Kerafyrm says, "But, I see what I must do."
 Chaaca Khan says, "Ominous."
 Artaghh asks, "Low....birth?"
 Sors glares in peasant.
(Sors Ultovex)
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 Jessi glares in savage
(Jessi Ultovex)
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 Sors Ultovex whispers: We killin' this guy.
 Vedran Ivanovich says, "Think it 'as an issue with peasants."
 Ser Artaghh glares in peasant x2
(Artaghh)
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Chroma coughs in noble.
(Chroma Zanders)
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Chaaca glares in fish.
(Chaaca Khan)
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 SawbonesDM glares in dm.
(SawbonesDM)
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Vedran glances in noble vampire.
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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{NARRATION} In but a second an energy beam would be fired. Piercing the last Ascendant and utterly destroying his body.

"It was worth a try! But with that last sacrifice I should be awake soon.

So, choose. Turn back or die."


If they wouldn't go back, a fight sure was brewing.
 Vedran Ivanovich says, "... Nah. Fuck you."
 Chaaca Khan says, "Yea, eat a dick."
 Chroma Zanders says, "Go to helheim."
 Sors Ultovex says, "Helheim is mine, don't send 'im there."
 Chaaca Khan says, "He has a point."
 Jessi Ultovex says, "Cease existence."
 Chaaca Khan asks, "Just uhh, I dunno why does it matter where we send them?"
 Chroma Zanders says, "Commit die."
 Artaghh asks, "On Azrael?"
 Chaaca Khan says, "Let's just fuck kill this thing already."
 Artaghh asks, "You're approaching me?"
 Sirocco Vishkar says, "It is what we came here to do after all."
 Chroma menacing aura
(Chroma Zanders)
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{NARRATION} Kerafym's form disappears once more as his burning aura grows.

 Ser Artaghh would ignite his own shroud of energy in contest of the ancient being's own, gripping his blade tightly as the mystic energies coalesced about his form, his reserves gathered once more as he prepared to engage the sleeper who now groggily awakened. This was not going to be an easy fight, but then, they didn't come here for that. They came to hunt a dragon.

"Kerafym, Energy's Firstborn, I do by Dawn's name, laws, an' pride do sentence ye'ta death."
(Artaghh)
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[01:51] Grey and gold narrowed on the energy in front of the group, the Whispering Eye drawn from Sors' back. The staff is pointed forward, a gaze toward each of the ones around.

"Giv' no quarter. Beat it down an' when it's body arrives we'll make ultimate use o' it. An undead dragon will serve Dawn real well."

Rifts opened around as new undead would arrive to fill the ranks.

"The death here ain't ours. The undead are mine, but ain't tha' death."
(Sors Ultovex)
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 Taking a deep exhale, his gambit had been veto'd.

The Paladin didn't think he'd die in the absolution of the spirit, but upon thinking it through a bit more, it probably was best to simply slay the damned thing after all.

This was their right, at this point, they'd faced all of it's trials, and just now it was here dangling in front of them. Emitting a bit of magma smoke from his mouth due to his empowering burns, he swirled in his miasma of energy that still shined similarly to the Dragon...

The hunt was on...
(Chroma Zanders)
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 The Sirenian glanced up at the dragon. Yup, this was gonna be painful, but... His eyes would dart to each member of the party, as the wound in his chest began to glow brighter. He'd protect all of them from this damnable dragon, and he'd do it will a smile!

The wound seemed to feed into his holy energy, causing it to grow brighter as his resolved strengthened. They'd be fine, every last one of them.

Well besides the skeletons, they were probably fucked.

"Let's fuck this ass hole up."
(Chaaca Khan)
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 The avatar flickered and fell to the ground. The final attack given by Vedran.

Its energy covers the entire floor.

The arena distorts. Cracks of azure instantly begin running across the entire structure.

A flash -

And nothing remains of the Arena.

The party would be disoriented for a second, before being able to grasp their situation.


A gigantic runic circle had appeared below them. At the center was none other than Kerafym. Fully awoken in his true form.

A massive spectral dragon stands before you. Wings like birds and body constantly giving out pure energy magics.

For those to turn away from his sheer glory, a shard of high value lies within his sole possession. A necklace.

"Free, once more."

It starts to become apparent what happened. Looking over the Azure dragon there are many wounds. Arrows still left in. Scars from swords, axes, all sorts of weapons. Even his left horn is destroyed.

"Because of the sacrifices you made, I'm full once again. I awake from my eternal dream and come to rule."

A burning claw juts out and points towards The Paladins.

"I am Kerafym. Master of elements. The Sleeping /GOD/."

His rage is fully accented by bursts of blue flames and pure energy magic. Circling around the runic circle that they all stood upon.
The Avatar only holds so much power. Energy covers the floor, it's abilities spreading the color of Azure before the world has departed. Instead, the rune circle around them was revealed. Kerafym's true form was stared at by the Whispering Eye's green eye, an almost cat like slant to it focused towards the dragon.

It looked almost like a spirit, but the spiritmancer was able to tell. It was flesh and blood, something that he would be able to raise and enslave to his will. Lord Ultovex smirked, angling his weapon ever downward.

"Ya will awaken from ya eternal dream, ya. Ya are but a pawn upon a board, an' a pawn tha' we shall soon possess. A dragon tha' will fight an' kill ta the likin' o' Dawn an no other army.

Ya are ta be Kerafym, slave o' Ultovex, the walkin' dead."

The blue flames circled around the area they stood and Sors narrowed his eyes. Undead rise, the remainder of his forces from the battle drawing their weapons.

"After this I'm gon' nee ta kill a whole lot o' people ta replenish. Tha's a shame."

Astral force fires from the index finger, trying already to blow a hole in the wing of the Azure dragon.
(Sors Ultovex)
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 The Nagual reaches deep... deep inside... she grabs hold of the Spirit's power... now her own. She pulls. She will need all she can hold for this fight...

The lion-esque apparition appears around her once more... a sign of her extensive use of the Spirit's mana more so than her own. Her eyes would shift from their normal amber-orange becoming nothing but black orbs, lightning of the same color flashing around her eyes.

Tears of blood ran from her eyes, the pressure on her brain was intense.

The air around the Nagual was supercharged, to the point if she let her control slip just a little it would likely just lash out to destroy everything near her. The same way it had all those years ago..

The Nagual, reflecting on the memory tears her left sleeve off. Glowing letters on her mythril arm reading BETRAYER for all to see.

Her eyes track the runes around the circle... attempting to use her runic knowledge to guesstimate their use.

If something or nothing was found she would relay the information and then roar once more, the air smelling of ozone.
(Jessi Ultovex)
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The Sarradian sidles in next to Sors, his staff level in the similar phalanx style he had taken before. The mana engine in his arm whines briefly before emitting out the shield.

He glances sideways to the other companions and a feeling of relief came from being on the end of the fray. He could watch for 'stray' attacks if they should come and it provided a tactical advantage for his fighting style.

The -thing- before him had the audacity to claim itself to be a god, but perhaps it was not too far off. Sleeping as it was now if they could recover its body then they might very well make it as close to godhood as possible.

In line with Azrael's will.. Such a beast could very well be forced into undeath servitude to honor its raw spiritual power no matter how misguided.

The Sarradian's heart beat slowly as he steeled his nerves and prepared for the tension to break with the first move that would send the strange realm into utter calamityas they great forces clashed.

This day Dawn would slay yet another false god and reshape it into the true vision.. True divinity.
(Sirocco Vishkar)
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[02:32] Ser Artagh would finally get it, finally understand the point of all this bloodshed. These fools, these gladiators, they came here presuming to emulate the dragons and seize their might, to walk the winged path of the scaled sky sovereigns. But they were just....pawns, mindless sacrifices of energy upon this runic circle meant only to fuel this dragon of ethereal energy, to wake a slumbering ancient with a snack. It was....excellent for the stories, really.

Wiping his bloodied, broken nose with the bandages that wrapped around his burn scarred right arm, the knight of the Green Hill would grip his sword's handle tightly as he pointed the blade's tip towards Kerafym, Master of elements, the sleeping "god".....devourer of souls. To think a being of such energy mastery was so....dishonorable, it enraged the commander to a boiling point. This ancient drake represented the apex of ENERGY MAGIC, AND THEY WERE A LAZY GLUTTON!

The pulsating shroud of dense,mystic energy that coalesced around Artaghh would ignite with gathered fury, a display made to challenge the beast with the brilliance of his own mana, the light of Dawn. "Kerafyrm, aye, tha' ye' are. Master'o the elements? Maybe. Ye' are pretty old. But god.....the dragons haven't been gods fer a long, long time lad....yer jus' a fat, wrinkled lizard who's goin'ta die. "
(Artaghh)
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 Jessi Ultovex says, "Be careful... the runes are whats feeding it from the people killed... also.. if you havent noticed.. it's illusion rigged."
 Smashing the avatar out of the air, as it fell to the ground and scattered amongst the floor-.. A flash! Distortion and destruction followed; Turning away from the bright light as a giant runic circle materialized along with Kerafym!

Fully restored and enraged! Azure flame permeated throughout the field - raising a hand to shield his own gaze; until the glint caught the Cainite attention with a gleaming shard, pristine and encased in a necklace...

Loot!

Kerafym was a battle-scarred beast of a dragon, ages of battle must've taken it's tool; yet it stood.. "Kerafym!" Yelling at the beast, as hateful scarlet eyes burned with an untapped flame, Vedran laughed as ice started to creep from beneath his very feet!

"If /you/ are a god! Then I shall be Vedran Ivanovich, Godslayer!" No, this was a pale imitation of a god; hollow and mortal. This day, it'll fall to Dawn's might..

More important?

It'll fall by Vedran's will.

With a heavy gust, snow started to swirl and envelope the vampire; initially calm, but it ramped as time went on, manifesting as a great blizzard that enshrouded Cain's child..

Tanking the temperature in the Arena, as with frozen fury? Vedran charged without a semblance of caution.
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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Well shit.

A blinding flash was all the Paladin would see. Oh god, oh fuck. They really pissed this thing off, didn't they? After a brief pause, he'd slowly open his eyes to see the lack of an arena.

His eyes would dart to the ground, as he noticed a rather strange looking rune on the ground. Runes, he'd always thought about learning the craft, just never had the drive to do it, but that's a thought for another time... Probably. What mattered right now was... Y'know.

The giant ANGRY dragon.

His eyes darted across the dragon making note of ever wound that rested upon the creatures body, those would probably be the ideal place to send his spores to attack. An easy opening for them to infest the poor creatures body.

A god huh? Well he was no god of his, so he had no real issue with slaying the damn thing. Now he'd be able to call himself the Dragon God Slayer after all of this, so that's gonna be incredible. A smile spread across his face as he gripped onto his trident more tightly, his hands completely soaked in not only his blood, but the blood of his enemies.

This was going to be a hell of a fight.

One last glance would be shot to each member of the party. They'd all come out of this alive, and hopefully not harmed... They have to.

(Chaaca Khan)
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Low and behold...

The Master of Elements, the final fight...a true eternal dragon materialized in front of the Dawnites as they looked to it's magnificence basking them in waves of overwhelming energy. They'd done it, truly. Awakening the ancestral lizard from it's slumber to go toe to toe with in the end here.

Excitement, thoughts racing..

He'd always imagined it...but to see it in the flesh was a feeling of pure exhilaration. A hum of the raw attunement's power crackled about, as his Humanist aura paled in comparison to it's canopied wings that took up the sky within the colosseum's grounds.

Gripping his blades tightly, after such a grueling fight with everything leading here, he'd take a moment to douse his gullet with an Elixir of Healing, feeling his flesh mend to peak conditions as he aligned his spirit with body.

The thrill of a majestic beast such asthis, was savored as Chroma took it all in, glancing to the runes about their feet as he felt the pressure of the titanic spirit that resided in this beast.

Hearing the warning that Jessi had given the group, he'd condense and refine his aura to become more efficient. His practices would come into full affect here, as they sought to put this thing down. It was a pinnacle of Energy magic...and he'd never felt closer to the secrets that the type of mana it held until now.
(Chroma Zanders)
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Vedran Ivanovich says, "It's"
 Vedran Ivanovich says, "Not real"
 Vedran Ivanovich says, "YEEEEEHAAAAAAAAWWWWWW"
 {NARRATION} His reality was fading.

As The Paladins continued their fight bits of pieces of Kerafym's ghostly appearance would fade. Giving way to the normal scaly hide of a dragon. The expected wings.

There was one choice left.

With a mighty roar the runic circle activates. The landscape shifts and forms a new world.

A rocky peak, filled with generations of treasure.

Dragons soar throughout the sky.

They were now in his world.


If anyone wants to take a perm or temp, say so now.
 {NARRATION} Kerafym was able to bring them into his dream, for just a moment. A place of peace where the Dragons ruled.

The strong survived, and the weak died.

Azure Fire rained down upon his perch, melting anything that'd get in its way. Even his own dream.

Slowly the runes would fail, and slowly it'd all return to normal. A snowy mountain top. A pure blue dragon that has lost its godly appearance.

He'd still carry on. Casting all sorts of magic. Trying to kill those who'd interrupt him.

But, it'd all come to an end. Chroma would deliver a deadly blow to the dragon.

His necklace would fall, his illusion would completely fade.

A Spire Shard embedded within.

Fallen to the ground and no longer able to support his own weight, he looks towards his death.


{Item} You picked up Arcanium x5. Dropped by Vedran Ivanovich.
{Item} You drop Arcanium x4.
 {Item} You picked up Dragon's Eye. Dropped by SawbonesDM. .
 Titans clashing, vicera and gore filled the field as the dragon waged the utmost of Hell upon the Dawn militia.

They. Must. Triumph.

And at any cost.

They'd given their all in facing the thing it's power flaring, and flickering between impossible, but the hope they pursued, and thrived for seemed to take center stage as shockwaves spread along the forest.

The Paladin, utilizing his patience and ability to rip into the thread that kept the worlds together took this fight to heart at it's core. The energy displayed, the raging cobalt flames that shook their souls out into it's own realm seemed to play a deadly illusion upon their minds while their bodies faced extinction.

Digging down into the reserves of energy that were residual, and connected to his very life force the incandescence of desperation burned from Chroma as he made a final charge. Dodging, ducking, and flickering here, further, and everywhere else that was safe between this world and the next--he'd see an opening made by the harrowing efforts of everyone there.

Just under at it's chest, was a dented scale, revealing a glowing softness that he needed to reach. Soaring throughout the air with a war cry, the Red Paladin began to spin like a drill, his form blurring into a fearsome machination before...

Victory..

Punching through the thickened membrane, and using all that was left to keep his heart ticking the scarlet haired man would explode out from the Dragon's back, and in a swift motion loop around to stab it through the back of it's neck, pinning it to the ground as his deathly efforts began to channel all of his remaining mana into the dying swordsman.

Siphoning until he no longer could feel death's door knocking along his spine, he'd roar into the sky breathing out his own energy beam that leaked from his mouth.

As he finished, the man would fall back coughing up blood and succumbing to what wounds he had....though nothing lethal now that he'd drank from the ancestral ichor.

"It's......done."
(Chroma Zanders)
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 {NARRATION} Everyone else feel free to rp. I'll drop an ending narrate onec you're all done and we're out of here
 Ser Artaghh would pace forth into the fray against the ancient energy dragon without fear, gripping his Nyeshk greatsword's handle tightly as he proceeded to give it all against the dragon. This runic illusion had been dispersed, they were on even grounds with an ancient beast of real flesh, no longer but a mere illusion of hard light and energy. Each rending claw that slammed against Artaghh's frame rattled his bones and seared his circuits with the sheer overload of power the dragon manifested. Energy's firstborn indeed.

But the dragon was no god, no true one at least. Even with the ghostly fires of drake shades, the blue flames of ethereal energy concentrated to its most lethal potency, to the apex of energy itself. It was a sight indeed to see what energy dragons were made of, to see what direct spawns of one of the five divines could bring to the battlefield. The knight of the Green Hill did not find himself disappointed.

Seared over and over with ruthless precision, the commander of Dawn's legion engaged in one final, last effort dash to contribute to the battle, leaping forth directly upon the dragon's head and looking it right in the eyes before doing what any bald, ballsy peasant would do in such a situation. He'd jam his hand directly into the socket of the Dragon's left eye, and tug away at its ocular nerves with a swift jamming of his mithril fisherman's knife into the seem before being blasted back with the eyeball in hand, his trophy seized as he was cooked into the grass by the ancient sovereign of the sky. Eat pant, dragon.

Collapsing on his back, extra crispy and oversurged by the coils of Kerafym's ethereal, rending gusts, but Ser Artaghh was alive....and seeing Chroma's deathblow with his remaining eye, he could see that victory was theirs! A hunt ten years in the making where the seven companions of Dawn learned the meaning of true friendship. And that dragons were dickheads.
(Artaghh)
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 They were in the dream, swimming through it. Yet the force of will within every member of Dawn overpowered the dragon. As the blue flames scorched the ground, the combined blades of the Paladins, the warden, the commander, the Adjucator all came together in a wonderful array of color. Slowly the dream peeled back, and the dragon was brought to the real once more.

It would not be the Adjucator who dealt the final blow. Instead he found himself hitting the grounds far before that, the dragon's flames burning at his heels as they returned to the normal work. Skeletons ran forwards, launching arrows, but they could only distact the beast as best they did. The final blow comes from one of the most hard working members, the Red Paladin's blade puncturing the dragon. Grey and gold look up, even in the last moments of the creature's life, a blow starting to come towards the Adjucator.

And for the second time that day he was saved. This time Chaaca was elsewhere, but Jessi, his girlfriend, was stuck in his place. Grey and gold widen in what can only be suprize and he moved towards her, arms aiming to pick the woman up. The ring on his finger whispered everyone would betray, and his own actions after learning of Jessi's affair with Alastor hadn't been the most kind.

"Why would ya take tha' in my place?"

The question wouldn't fade from his mind. His ideal was shaken, people only worked for their own benefit. Why would another sacrifice themselves in his place? It was a question spurred first by Chaaca's actions, but until it occurred a second time he dismissed it as mere convience.

"I ain't understand."

Nothing made sense to Lord Ultovex. But yet as he continued to make sure that Jessi was okay, something dangled in the corner of his vision. Almost on reflex, and invisible chain shoots to the necklace before bringing it to Sors. Eyes widened, looking at the object, then towards the dragon that had been slain.

The shard was in his control. And the corpse.. Already an extra large rift would start to open, preparing to take the dragon back to Dawn, in pieces if he had to.

"I.. There is some much I ain't get. I got a lot o' questions when we get back ta Dawn."

His mind was frazzled, thoughts shaken. For the first time in a long time, if not his entire life, his ideals did not match up with what he had seen.
(Sors Ultovex)
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With that, it was time to meet their destiny, to face down the false idol! Each step froze over a chunk of the 'field', An illusion create to sate the Dragon's longing for a world ruled by his own kind; but it was nothing but a falsehood. A dream. A lie. Parting his pale lips and baring his elongated fangs for the world to gaze upon; embracing the cruel monster that he was..

Sharpened pillars of ice violently erupted from the ground, piercing the scaley beast's hide as the blizzard began to bore down on him-...! Eroded and wearing against the it's scale, but it would not be the vampire who'd get the pleasure of murdering that accursed creature - much to his chagrin!

Kerafym having earlier focusing his efforts on Cain's child - Overwhelmed, Enraged, Casting jagged icicles from his hands; so desperately wanting to maim the creature...

But, something else happened!

From the corner of his eye? Sirocco was struggling, knocked aside by the fearsome dragon and in the middle of it's warpath; perhaps on instinct, acting before thinking.

Vedran shadow-stepped across the field; leaving a trail of black smog behind - "No!" Danger. Instinctively raising a frozen barrier behind him, enough to shield the Occultist, but...

Not Vedran.

Enduring the brunt of the dragon's mighty attack; a large burst of energy launched the vampire against his own wall of frost - But it didn't have a physical impact..

Simply a mental on, as the residual magic seeped into his own body, provoking visions of a war without his kin, or war. or murder - Eternia conquered by the drakes that haunted the skies.

Well that sucks.
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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 Pain rushed over the Sirenian as he dashed away from the Dragon. He needed to get away from the dragon, he needed a moment of respite from the fight, and surprisingly he found that respite, but not where he expected to find it.

He was safe now, the dragon was gone and he was alone in the woods. This was nice. Peace he felt at peace here in the lush forest that rested upon the island. He was safe from the pain of the outside world, and all the awful things that came with it. Everything was great.

Except... It wasn't.

There was a gnawing in the back of his head, something kept repeating over and over again in the back of his mind. What the hell was this? Slowly, but surely it started to get louder, and louder.

PROTECT

It was at that moment his eyes suddenly shot open, as he glanced at the Dragon, and more importantly Artaghh. A small rune had formed upon Chaaca's right shoulder, but that didn't matter right now, what mattered was his duty.

He'd take off at top speeds towards his mentor, and father figure Artaghh, as he brought a shield of light over his body, he knew what was going to happen. Artaghh was in danger and he needed to save him.

PROTECT

Once again that word would come crashing through his mind. Yea, yea. He got it. After a few more moments of desperate sprinting he arrived at his mentor.

Artaghh had landed in the wrong spot, and the Dragon was ready to blast him with it's breath. With one final bit of strength left of his body, he'd slam Artaghh out of the way as the flames overtook him.

Thankfully, his shield managed to hold out for the majority of the flames, only shattering right at the end. But, the few flames that did hit him. HURT, but... He was alive, that's all that matters.

He was standing by sheer willpower at this point, well enough willpower to turn and give Artaghh a thumbs up, before collapsing onto the ground, right as the dragon dies.
(Chaaca Khan)
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The Nagual threw herself into the fray... Blackened lightning seeming to strike the wyrm's hide from all directions at times.

She and her allies all battered the thing... all of them using the full extent of the powers they possess. There were times when it would focus on her and she would seem to be untouchable.. others it battered her down...

Once it caught her well... a rune branded into her skin....

As the both the Dragon and the elites of Dawn began to wear down... she would be across their battlefield.. she would see the dragon unleash a wave of flame directly at Sor's.

She simply seemed to disappear from where she was and appear between her boyfriend and the Dragon, a holy shield blocking the flames though the shield was shattered. Blinded by the need to protect him she didn't see the second wave coming.

It struck her but seemed to not affect her physically as much as it struck her spirit. Like an axe chopping wood it almost seemed to split her from the Spirit she had merged with so many years ago now....

She would fall to her knees under the blow... even as Chroma finished the great beast off... She could feel Sors moving for her... arms reaching to grab her.. a question was asked. One she thought he would know the answer too.

"I told you Sors… I love you.."

The answer was a simple truth.
(Jessi Ultovex)
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Vedran Ivanovich says, "... Gay."
 Artaghh says, "The hero gets the girl an'ta treasure. A real story."
Ser Artaghh would drag the crippled Chaaca across the dirt by his leg, as Azrael intended.
(Artaghh)
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 Chroma Zanders says, "Damn..oh, yeah. Me and Morgan seperated."
Vedran Ivanovich says, "..."
Sors Ultovex says, "..."
 Vedran Ivanovich says, "Huh."
 Chroma Zanders asks, "But um--how're we going to get this home?"
 Chaaca Khan says, "Riftmancy, you fucking moron"
 Artaghh says, "Ye' dumbass."
 Sors Ultovex says, "I'm a rift user, Chroma."
Artaghh asks, "Whaaaaaaa?"
 Chroma Zanders says, "Behaha--.....god I think I'm depressed."
Artaghh says, "No fuckin' way."
 Dogslayer exclaims, "Haha, whoa!"
 Dogslayer exclaims, "People! That's crazy!"
 Chroma Zanders exclaims, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"
Sirocco Vishkar says, "We have been here the whole time."
 Dogslayer exclaims, "WHOAAAAAAAAAAA!"
 Vedran Ivanovich says, "Ugh.. I'm fuckin' sore as shit."
Freya Vishkar says, "Holy-"
 {NARRATION} And out through a huge ass rift, comes The Paladins.

And a huge ass dragon corpse.
 Esme Rowan says, "Huh."
 Dogslayer exclaims, "Whoa!"
Chroma Zanders says, "We're home."
 Dogslayer exclaims, "WHOA!"
 Esme Rowan exclaims, "Welcome back!"
 Dogslayer exclaims, "Oh, man!"
 Artaghh exclaims, "Honey, we're hoooome!"
 Neo Invidia says, "--"
 Hathor says, "..."
 Dogslayer exclaims, "That's pretty big!"
 Chaaca looked like he was probably dead.
(Chaaca Khan)
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 Eniel Daigal says, "What the hell..."
Freya begins to count, quickly-

Before noticing the massive fuck-off dragon.
(Freya Vishkar)
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 Vedran Ivanovich says, "We've been busy."
 Dogslayer exclaims, "I've only killed dogs before!"
 Freya Vishkar exclaims, "...Holy SHIT!"
 Hathor whispers something.
 Neo Invidia says, "Don't let the Rowan boy see that. He'll flip his shit."
 Sirocco Vishkar says, "Ah, my favorite niece."
 Sors Ultovex says, "It was successful."
Freya Vishkar says, "Ok. I count seven."
 Sors Ultovex says, "At a high cos'."
 Chroma had a few knicks and scratches, but he was actually looking fairly good.
(Chroma Zanders)
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 Eniel Daigal asks, "You survived then Master?"
 Vedran Ivanovich whispers something.
 Vedran Ivanovich whispers something.
 Ser Artaghh had a broken nose, and was maybe a bit crispy, but otherwise completely fine. He would puff away contently at his corn cob pipe, blowing a minty cloud of smoke towards the bay as he gazed at the corpse of Kerafym, Energy's Firstborn.
(Artaghh)
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 Sors Ultovex says, "No. I died. Horribly."
 Chaaca slowly got to his feet as he regained consciousness. There was a strange glowing mark on his chest, as well as a small rune on his shoulder. Oh, plus the giant gash on his side! OH! OH! But who could forget about the fire that danced around his skin. Fun times for paladin Chaaca.
(Chaaca Khan)
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 Freya Vishkar says, "Is that- Is that a dragon? "
 Chaaca Khan says, "Ow..."
Chaaca Khan says, "Ow."
Chaaca Khan says, "Fuck me."
 Chaaca Khan says, "My everything."
Vedran Ivanovich whispers something.
 Sirocco Vishkar says, "It may have been a living dream of a dragon, actually."
 Eniel Daigal says, "You look pretty alive to be dead"
 Dogslayer says, "Haha, yoink."
Jessi Ultovex says, "No... It's a bird.."
 Sirocco Vishkar says, "I am.. Not entirely sure."
Artaghh exclaims, "Aye, a dead one!"
Neo Invidia says, "It's a flying machine."
 Artaghh says, "His name were Kerafyrm."
 Artaghh says, "Real dickhead."
 Freya Vishkar says, "I want him at my wedding."
 Chaaca Khan says, "Aye... Massive prick."
 Eniel Eyes the dragon corpse only can assume its going to be used for Necromancy.
(Eniel Daigal)
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Chroma Zanders says, "He was wily....but I got the killing slashes."
Jessi was branded on exposed skin with a lion spirit occasionally visible around her
(Jessi Ultovex)
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Chaaca Khan says, "Oh boy, ow..."
Freya Vishkar says, "I'M RIDING HIM ONTO MY WEDDING."
Chaaca Khan says, "OW."
 Freya Vishkar says, "CHAACA "
Dogslayer exclaims, "Man, you guys sure look cool!"
Vedran just tosses off all his armor I guess and puts on his 'I'm going to be a lazy fuck' shirt.
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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Freya Vishkar says, "EVERYONE'S HERE."
Sors looks almost unharmed aside from scratches. And very very confused.
(Sors Ultovex)
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Chaaca Khan says, "Yea, I know..."
Chroma Zanders says, "He made for an amazing adversary."
Vedran Ivanovich says, "Aye."
Vedran Ivanovich says, "No dead."
Chaaca Khan says, "I had to make sure of that..."
Esme Rowan says, "That's..."
Esme Rowan says, "Big."
Artaghh says, "So Sors, should I have mentioned the fac' tha' the dragon was rumored'ta have a spire shard."
Artaghh asks, "Or was tha' surprise funny?"
Vedran Ivanovich says, "I've heard that one before.."
Chaaca Khan says, "It... It made it fun."
Chaaca Khan says, "Ow."
Jessi Ultovex says, "In your dreams..."
Sors Ultovex says, "Tha' suprise shocked ma, ya."
Sors Ultovex says, "A dragon, a shard."
Artaghh says, "Great fun."