[Quest] Enter the Dragon

[Imogen]

Keeping the damn equi-form aloft had been hard enough to swing while wholly hale and hearty; Imogen counted herself lucky that she hadn't simply tumbled from the sky, and chose to push fortune no further. Horse and rider descended rapidly towards the ground near Exathun's insensate form. She kicked hooves into motion as the ground approached, trying to land gracefully. It would have been cool had she pulled it off.

Instead, the winged horse stumbled to earth near Exathun's head and staggered gently into a tree trunk, just managing to avoid smashing Iselya into the bark. A bit dazed, Imogen staggered back to the side, trying to keep her feet (too many feet!) beneath herself. She shook her maned head, trying to stop the world from spinning quite so much.

When it did, she almost regretted clearing her head.

The great wyrm lay spread before them on the ground, smouldering... but still alive. Though the dragon was winded, it could stand back up at any moment, and only the lingering flames of courage stopped the Sunsinger's horsey heart from skipping a beat as she took in the sheer magnitude of the ancient creature. Magic or no, Exathun was fully capable of crushing both her and Iselya under a single clawed hand, not to mention what a blast of that cold shadow was apt to do this close.

Yet when Imogen spoke, her candor was cocky as ever. "See?" She whinnied breathlessly to the Dawnmartyr, "Works every time."

This was true, in a technical sense. But although Imogen's spirit was perpetually buoyant in the face of ancient dragons, armies of dark wraiths or, most dangerously, her own stupidity, she could feel her strength running out. The fight with the wraiths aboard the Every Waking Moment, her extended use of the stolen Illumite to ward off the entropic shadows of the eclipse, the rapid invocations of Animus and the summoning of the nova-flame barrier had sapped most of her reserves of aether. Ancient dragons and gods might be able to invoke spells for days on end, but an Orkhan girl quickly found herself longing for rest.

"...but I'll be honest, that took a lot out of me." Imogen confessed to Iselya, "I might still be able to summon my Arsenal once more, but that's it, and I don't know if that alone will do it. Up to you whether we should still try to cleanse this dragon or seek an ending while we have the chance."

[Vanessa Quill]

The Every Waking Moment chased the beast down like a hound harrying its prey, the black marble figurehead of a veiled woman the only lingering remnant of serene impassivity the ship once held. How, the vessel was lost to the chase, and her engines burned hotly enough that sailors stumbled back from the engine room simply to avoid being burned by the terrible power. The engine's keening was the vessel's snarled warning, and its ram its snapping jaws. She was hungry-- both for blood and the chance to prove herself, and she streaked like a comet even as the dragon tumbled from the sky and fell to the earth.

For an instant, the ship's captain thought of simply sending this ship and the dragon on a one-way ticket to the pit. It would be a fitting end for the vessel surely, and one worthy of song, but it was not to be. With herculean effort, Vanessa heaved the nose of the ship upward just as the ground rushed to meet them, deathly calm even as she shouted for the crew to brace for impact.

The ship's runeforged hull slammed into the ground, and the timbers strained but did not yield. Men below decks were sent tumbling as the Every Waking Moment carved through the ice and rime with ram and hull alike, sending frost and earth winging over the rails alike to seafoam. Unyielding in her advance, the ship showed little sign of stopping as it scarred the earth in lieu of its desired prey laying defenseless some small distance away.

As easily as she could manage, Vanessa pulled off the throttle and slowed the ship until it rest near one of the great brute's great wings with its broadside leveled out with the fell creature.

"Keep our cannons and ballistae trained on the beast." Vanessa bellowed, and those that had fallen in the 'controlled' landing scrambled to obey, getting on the guns and holding steady despite their fear once they were swiveled and locked into place aiming at the motionless behemoth. Slowly plodding to the rail, Vanessa looked over to see Iselya and Imogen were alive. "If they had a plan, it looks like it worked." Vanessa replied to Anton, a bit of tension leaving her shoulders.

Once a cacophony, the ship now stood eerily silent as the crew waited for their orders. Vanessa looked to Anton. "On your orders, my lord." She said, straightening up from the railing. She didn't suspect he would waver now, but she would not presume his orders before he spoke them. "If we're to attempt parley, or whatever counts for it here, we ought to be quick about it" Though she did not doubt the dedication of her sailors, so too she knew how they would value decisive action over paralyzed indecision.

[Laveriel]

Ever since that day in the Warrens, Iselya knew that her connection with Arcas had strengthened. His presence was more tangible, just the slightest bit out of reach. But this was the first time she had sought it wholeheartedly and tried to draw from him. Warmth flooded through her veins as if they had always been there.

Light and flames crashed into frost and shadows. Fortunately, this time they won. Exathun fell to the ground and a part of her hoped that maybe they had incapacitated it permanently. As Imogen began her descent, Iselya could see that it was not the case. Dark flames still flickered on the dragon.

The siltori climbed down ungracefully, nearly tripping over her own feet before finally steadying herself against the tree. “I’m not sure if I have anything left in me,” the dawnmartyr admitted to the female orkhan. The price of wielding a divine power was not kind to her. Her heart was still pounding and her chest tightened with every breath. It would take a bit more time for her to properly summon her aether.

She turned her gaze to the dragon. There was no way of telling when it might wake up. Their choices were dwindling with every passing moment. “If I push it, maybe I can afford a bit of dawnfire but nothing close to what we need to even attempt cleansing it.”

Moments later, the airship landed roughly near the dragon. Everyone seemed fine, which was a massive relief. She could spot Anton and Captain Quill standing by the railings. Iselya waved at them weakly.

“The Voice of Tekrah,” Iselya exclaimed, the thought suddenly resurfaced inside her head. “Perhaps this is our chance to find it. Jac did say it was our best chance of pacifying the creature.” The idea of hunting for a mysterious item was certainly more attractive to her than risking another head-on battle with a murderous dragon.

“Wait, has anyone seen Jac?” the siltori asked abruptly. She hadn’t seen the man as the dragon fell, but she was sure he was on it somehow.

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

“Here.” Jac’s voice was gruff. He coughed but he meandered away from the body of the momentarily dazed dragon looking as though he had broken one of his arms. Multiple lacerations were on his body and he overall appeared to have gotten fairly beaten up. He was, for the moment, alive. He shuffled over to Iselya and Imogen with slightly labored steps and uneasy breathing.

“That…was very stupid.” He grimaced at the both of them. “You should have gone to ground while you could. But, here we are.”

Jac grunted. He reached into one of the pouches on his belt and withdrew a syringe filled with a viscous-looking red liquid. He stabbed the syringe into his broken arm, grinding his teeth as he did so. The muscles of his neck bulged as he held back what was clearly a scream of agony. He withdrew the syringe, biting back another shout as the bones in his arm audibly began to shift. The torn skin and ripped muscles began writhing. His fingers twitched wildly with a mind of their own and his arm flailed with sickening pops and crunches before yanking itself back into its proper socket. The skin and muscle knit themselves back together forming thin scars. When it was over, Jac was left panting.

“We should go. Before the dragon--” There was a rattling breath followed by a bestial growl. One of the dragon’s wings swept upwards. The bulk of its form moved and it began rising to its feet.

“Dawnbringer.”

A voice like thunder rumbled across the entirety of the open field around them. The mighty dragon turned, swinging its head around to regard those gathered. Its maw alone was big enough to bite the Every Waking Moment in half. The eyes of the dragon were startling to behold. One of them was a milky white, like an opal that was left to shimmer in sunlight. The other was a mix of black and green with a reptilian pupil that was narrowed to a slit as it stared at the gathered party.

“Younger was this new world when last I felt those flames.” The dragon’s wings extended then settled upon its back.

“A Madman. A Fool. A Liar. A Thief and a Fraud.” The dragon chuckled. It sounded like the quaking of the earth and caused the area to shake.

“What an amusing assortment of insects.” Exathun canted its head. “Still. You have surprised me. That is worth…something.”

A pregnant silence followed as though the dragon was waiting for someone among them to step forward and speak.

[Imogen]

"Striking critique from the man who jumped off an airship mid-flight, but duly noted."

Imogen's retort was automatic, but it wasn't as though she could argue with Jacque, and so there wasn't much heart in it. She very much wanted to go for a lie-down, but the heart of a true warrior lay, as always, in fighting on even when you were cold and grouchy and wanted to nap.

As Iselya spoke and Jacque administered some sort of horrendous-looking medication to himself (as with other forms of World Magic, Imogen's interest in alchemy ended principally with the cost to purchase useful poltices), the Orkhan woman opted to make another shift to a more comfortable form. Her clothes, sadly, lay discarded on the deck of the Every Waking Moment--if she was lucky--so she chose to slowly realign her bones and musculature into a more compact form. Horseflesh, suffused with life aether, gave way to silvery goop, which shrunk and shifted until only a gold-tinged white lemur was standing on the frosted ground surrounding the gathering party.

With that disturbing process finishing up, the witch called her staff, which had toppled to the ground nearby, to hand. The seven-foot tall stick dwarfed Lemurgen, but she wrapped both little monkey paws around it and drove it firmly into the partially-frozen mud on which the party stood. Once it was firmly affixed upright, Imogen scampered deftly up the staff, perching at eye-level with the party atop the weapon's dragonshard-veined cap.

"Very well, then let's-"

Her reply was interrupted as Exathun shifted. The dragon stretched and brought his head around, long neck alone a rival to some of the bones of the great serpents she had seen during outings to the black sands. The bulk of the wyrm beggared belief; while one could almost ignore it while motionless, a creature of such magnitude commanded immediate attention when it engaged in ponderous movement.

The sight of the great dragon's eyes froze the lemur witch for a moment, an involuntary flood of exotic emotions overtaking her as her mind was cast back to the last time she'd run into an eye so vast. There was something uniquely unsettling about an eye so large. Perhaps it was the old saw that eyes were the windows into a soul; if the window is that big, imagine how large the soul must be.

She could easily have remained stunned into silence by the sight, terror and awe blanking her waking mind just as they had done in the Koidhouo’uv... but she had been meditating on that moment for months, and was determined to move past mere shock. What exactly was it which had frozen her then and now? Nothing more than scale, really. A titan--a real titan like Exathun or the Voniad Koid, not a mere behemoth like the thunder lizards--was a direct challenge to her worldview. Imogen lived in an easy, comfortable assurance borne of years of training and superior Orkhan strength and the quiet primacy of the Sunsinger magic over the shallow spells of her foils in Zaichaer. She was used to confidence because she was good at her job, and because she understood the details of the challenges life could throw at her and had long ago proven herself able to overcome them.

But you couldn't overcome Exathun with mortal strength and training, and you couldn't quip your way past the Voniad Koid even if you were extremely funny. That was where confidence ended, when a monster which should have been printed on the map was close enough that you could smell its breath. She was not in control of this situation, and no amount of bullshiting was going to convince anyone that she was.

Having identified the source of her terror, Imogen pulled herself together, blinking away the shock. All of those things were true, but nothing about this situation would be made better by surrendering to instinct and pissing herself.

But what should she say? Nothing particularly clever came to mind. She didn't know why the dragon was suddenly talkative, and couldn't predict what might set him off. Perhaps, then...

"I- uh- I am-" it wasn't starting smoothly, but it was pretty difficult to control involuntary spasms in the vocal cords when she wasn't even in her native form. "Uh- Corporal Imogen Ward. Of the Sunsingers."

Okay, good start. What next? "Mr. Exathun. I am- we are- we are charged by the authority of the Marshal Gregoire Norickson and by the civil representatives of the shires of Zaichaer to, uh... get you to stop wrecking the place and killing people. So is there any way you might- be convinced to do that?"

Excellent work. The priests in Drathera who had reprimanded her said repeatedly that truth and a firm conviction were the keys to good living, so if Exathun responded to her straightforward exhortation by killing her instantly it would at least constitute some sort of important philosophical victory.

[Laveriel]

Iselya tensed as the world shook with Exathun’s voice. It roused way faster than anyone could have expected it to. No time for a well-thought plan it seemed.

“You know the flames,” Iselya said out loud, taken aback. It said dawnbringer, not dawnfire. The knight didn’t even wield the sword during their battle, but it could tell somehow. She might be overanalyzing it, but in her defense, the last time a mystical being heard about Novuril… it didn’t elicit the best reaction.

Honestly, she was impressed with the sunsinger. It certainly took Iselya longer to gather herself and look up at those mismatched eyes. Her heart was racing and for once she did feel like one of those knights in the stories, staring up at the Horror Who Dreams.

The dawnmartyr straightened, shuffling to Imogen’s side before giving the dragon a respectful bow. A white dragon was still sacred to her people and her mother would kill her should she fail to give the creature proper reverence. Most of her siblings had chosen to follow in their parents’ footsteps and dedicated their lives to the Temple. No one approved of her decision to leave Auris in order to join the Dawnmartyrs, serving a dragon god instead of their mistlords.

It’s funny that out of all of them, she was the one to be granted the chance to stand before a creature of Naori.

“Yes. Might we ask why are you doing this?” They already had a theory of why Exathun was rampaging, but Iselya figured they should still try asking. What else can she say to a dragon?

Despite its supposed corruption, Exathun seemed remarkably sound of mind. She wondered if the dragon’s surprise would be enough to let them get away with their lives. If it decided to incinerate them on the spot, they would be dead. The ship was grounded and she was too drained to pull out any tricks. They did still have that odd candle from Jac, but she wondered if it would be effective so close to the dragon.

The least she could do was stall until she gathered enough strength to escape in one piece.

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

“Sun…singer?” The mighty dragon stared steadily at Imogen offering only a blink of its eyes before a rumbling grating noise emit from it. The dragon was chuckling. Beside them, Jac was tense. His eyes were focused entirely on the dragon, watching its every move, clearly expecting the worst.

“Stolen. Spirited away into this land that you mortals choose to build your lairs.” The dragon’s wings spread wide, casting a shadow on everything around them before folding down. It huffed and there came a wind that smelled of ice, ash and dead things.

“The Voice?” Jac spoke, his voice tight. Exathun fixed him with a stare.

“Yessss…” The word was breathed as a hissing sigh.

“What if it were to be returned to you?” The dragon was silent for a moment as it seemed to contemplate the offer.

“You would seek the Voice?” Jac nodded.

“Stolen by a sorceress whose heart is filled with vengeance and hate. She lies to herself and so seeks to rebuild a world where Truth is dead and Justice is slain. Look to the Light’s dark past and there, you may yet find your first heading. Find her. Return the Voice. You have until the sun rises on the first day of the 124th year of this age. Fail…and all of the North shall suffer my wrath.”

Exathun stepped back. The mighty dragon spread its wings and with a few downbeats, began ascending into the skies. The shadow of the dragon spread across the land as it flew, darkening an already darkened landscape. When the dragon was a fair distance away, Jac turned to Imogen and Iselya.

“Any idea what any of that means?”

[Imogen]

The little monkey atop the staff made no reply for a moment, the focus of her sharp purple eyes distant, fixed upon the slowly-shrinking bulk of the departing dragon. Then, she took a breath. Another. A deep, deep breath. Then she let it out, exhaling deeply, and said:

"What it means? What it means."

Another exhalation.

"What it means is that you just signed us up for a year of unpaid work, only if we don't do it it's on our heads when Exathun comes back and starts smashing stuff again. That's what it means. Oh, sun."

Lemurgen let go of the staff, falling lightly backwards to the cold ground below, where she landed, spread-eagled, on her back.

"And this is my third cock-up in a row. I'll be lucky if they just assign me to cleaning the Sanctuary for the rest of my life. I'll be lucky if it's not a court-martial. Kneel down on the block, snicker-snack, and off comes my head with a stupid look on my face. Stick it up by the High Pass so all the future initiates can learn their lesson, what have you."

Imogen wasn't aware of the Sunsingers ever executing anyone for incompetence, but her imagination ran to the dramatic when overwhelmed. Thankfully, this morose and self-pitying mood was only a fleeting instant. She'd never managed to remain depressed for very long, it simply wasn't in her nature.

"Well, anyway, it's obvious that he thinks whoever stole the Voice wants to kill Raxen and Arcas." The fact that she was apparently also a cold and vengeful fucker was no real clue- that could describe half of the witches and mages she'd called client over the years. Imogen sat up, imperceptibly snapping her little lemur fingers (which are too furred to redound properly) "Bit pointless, if you ask me. Still, stopping a divine assassination attempt, bound to be a few gold in that. And no question of tardiness, after all, it can never be stopped if it hasn't begun. Yes, I think I'm coming around on the whole idea."

"But who are we to ask about this 'Light's Dark Past' business? Nobody's seen Arcas in months, have they? And most of the Dawnmartyrs--pardon the observation--are just Synnekar kids who joined up in the last few years, so the scuttlebutt was."

[Laveriel]

Iselya pressed her lips together as she realized that she was once again bestowed the responsibility of hunting down a magical object. Frankly, the last time had yielded better results than she could ever expect, but she wondered if her luck would keep up. At least last time, the siltori knew exactly what she was looking for and a general idea of where to look for it.

This time the only thing she had were riddles.

The siltori nodded at the lemur’s analysis. Truth and Justice definitely referred to Raxen and Arcas. It was certainly no coincidence either they were the same demigods that lent their power against the dragon. “A sorceress who wants to kill Arcas and Raxen who could be anywhere. Not to mention, we still don’t know what sort of object the Voice is exactly. This will take a while.”

“I think it’s still worth going to them. The Dawnmartyrs managed to salvage some of the records from Ailos,” Iselya pointed out, although Imogen wasn’t wrong. There were very few of them who managed to escape Ailos, and even fewer who survived two decades of hiding from the Imperium. But when she came to them about Novuril, they did have some valuable knowledge. “They must have something about Arcas’s history that could at least point us in the right direction.”

“And Arcas…” Iselya thought of how she had felt the reassuring hand and his power had flowed so easily through her when asked. The siltori did not what became of the demigod after that night in Gel’Grandal, but surely what happened today was a good sign, right? “We should try to seek him out if the Dawnmartyrs didn’t have any answers. I have something to deliver to him too, so might as well.”

The dark-haired elf looked up to the sky and placed a hand over her chest, where the Master had given her the second mark. At first, she had doubted if it was truly a mark of Arcas - she had never heard someone granted an emblem without the related demigod present. But it was truly a mark of eminence. Her dawnfire burnt brighter, her strength lasted longer. She tried to reach for that connection - after all, justicars were supposed to be able to sense if the Lord of Dawn was near.

Iselya looked at each of her companions. “So… shall we go to Kalzasi then?”

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

Jac was silent for a long time as the dragon flew off into the distance. He watched it leave then turned to the others. His eyes lingered on Iselya and Imogen then to the skyship that was nearby. He grunted.

“I will gather information. See if I cannot find a lead in other parts of the region.” He took out a coin from one of his pouches and flipped it toward Iselya and Imogen. “When you are ready for me, use that to seek me out. Give it to the Myriad in Kalzasi. They’ll know where to find me.”

With that, the giant man turned and began making his way toward the trees that Exathun had been bombarding with its breath.

Off Topic

R E W A R D S

Name: Imogen
XP: 20 XP. Can be used for magic.
Requested Lore: +12 Lores

Name: Iselya
XP: 20 XP. Can be used for magic.
Requested Lore: +12 Lores

Name: Anton
XP: 15 XP. Can be used for magic.
Requested Lore: +12 Lores

Name: Vanessa
XP: 15 XP. Can be used for magic.
Requested Lore: +12 Lores

Note(s):

Exathun has agreed to allow the participants of this thread until dawn on the 1st Day of Year 124 Steel. That will be March 1, 2024. You have the following in terms of clues:

"Stolen by a sorceress whose heart is filled with vengeance and hate. She lies to herself and so seeks to rebuild a world where Truth is dead and Justice is slain. Look to the Light’s dark past and there, you may yet find your first heading. Find her. Return the Voice. You have until the sun rises on the first day of the 124th year of this age. Fail…and all of the North shall suffer my wrath."

What you do with this information is up to you. Ultimately, the success or failure of this quest will be on you to solve. Please get with me when you are ready to pick up a thread related to uncovering information regarding this questline.