Tears of the Sun

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

((Closed to Storm Veritas, Elite Optic, Hysteria, Redford and myself. Sunwing to be GM'd by Cards of Fate))

There was no creature alive in the Mountains of Twilight, the vast mountain range that seperated Alerar and Raiaera, that was awake at this early time in the morning. Only a hint of dawn, a single shred of light, appeared in the inky, cloud smudged sky. Flat platforms of gravel and dirt, flanked by imposing, jagged rocks that jutted out of the mountainside formed the basis of a campsite. The bitter odour of burning wood mixed with the sweet scents of roasting berries drifted on the morning wind.

"The Mountains of Twilight" Shinsou muttered, poking the dying embers of the campfire with a bare twig from the doorway of his crudely constructed tent. “Tell me, Bane, why are we doing this again?”

Bane Stark, Shinsou’s guardian who had stood guard at their campsite on the fringes of what was considered the safe part of the mountains for most of the day prior, shook his head silently. As always, a single scarred hand remained gripped around the hilt of his double bladed swallow. Mostly, it was out of pure habit, but the nature of their quarry was reason enough to be on guard.

“We – well, you – need both the training and the bounty, so stop moaning. Besides, this time you’ll have help. It’s a large bounty, so I’ve called in a favour with some connections to get you some playmates. If you’ve any sense, you’ll learn something from them.”

His navy green ranger’s gear, smeared with mud and streaks of rusty dried blood from slain fiends, flashed momentarily from underneath a black greatcoat as it was rushed by the breeze. Bane stroked his black beard, and then disappeared from view to perform a quick patrol round to a ridge a few metres from their campsite, just to be certain they were alone.

Shinsou winced as he heard his bodyguard, and friend, noisily kicking up shale and fragments of stone as he paced.

Fucking hell, Bane, He fumed. Could you attract any more attention to us?!

The Telgradian sighed, shaking his head in frustration, and then looked down the ridge towards the beaten mountain path his new ‘friends’ would take to his campsite. As he did, Shinsou wondered why he was never far from conflict. The scent of it was always there, enveloping him. For the most part, life for him had ground to a resounding halt. The one objective in his life that remained, the obliteration of the Jal Shey and Temperance, he could currently do nothing about in his current state. As a result, there was much fear in the young man for the future, although he himself knew he could never admit it.

Shinsou, however, was characteristically calm about the battle ahead of him, despite his earlier whining. His soft, golden eyes veered across the rugged mountain terrain as he remembered the reason for them being here. They were here to kill find and kill a beast known as SunWing, a dragon that had spent its entire life throwing nearby settlements into turmoil and razing anything that got in its way. Shinsou knew that this would be a rare opportunity for him to test his skills and earn some money along the way, but the main attractions of doing this sort of work relied heavily upon him staying alive long enough to enjoy the benefits.

The beginnings of a rainstorm beat at the already weathered rocks of the mountainside, with monstrous droplets shattering into white pearls against the granite peaks and splashing into a nearby stream that wound through crevices in the rock face, but the Telgradian barely flinched. He just watched silently as Bane completed his rounds, and waited for the others to come.

[Storm Veritas]

Although their tracks had been minor, it was easy enough to spot the small group from horseback. They were an entertaining tandem; clearly doing their best to hide their tracks. One was sleek and sinewy, the other a clodding buffoon. Either way, it would be foolish to sneak up on them, so Storm Veritas made his presence known clearly.

“Holy shit, gentlemen! If you’re going to clank about and be so goddamned loud, don’t waste the effort to hide your tracks.”

With the just-rising sun a dull orb of white in a thin blanket of clouds at his back, the tall aristocrat rode down the mountain towards them. Confidently, he wore a politician’s smile, as his slicked-hair and freshly tailored riding suit held taut against his athletic frame. While he looked more suited to review a court case than fight a dragon, the master of all things electric had never felt more lethal.

Good to meet the meat shields, I suppose.

It was a fairly barren space, and even with the enormous Attila beneath him, the tall, lithe magician felt every step beneath him as a clunking, false-footed mess of a mountain. Small stones would slide and skip, and the soft rain would make the rock-faces even more slippery. Should they find the great Sun-Wing here in the stone steppes, there was nowhere to hide. Worse yet, these fools had started a fire, which naturally wafted up towards the heavens for anyone to see.

Anyone, or anything…

Making himself comfortable amongst the obviously suspicious strangers, Storm filled the bowl of his cherry-wood pipe with a thick pinch of tobacco, lighting the pipe effortlessly with a snap of his fingers. He covered the top of the pipe with his free hand for a moment, screening out the light rain and establishing a good smoke. Smoothly dismounting the great black horse, he strolled about the little campsite, eyeing the perimeter of their space and spotting a few welcome intruders. It was good to see new faces arriving; it seemed highly unlikely to the wizard that he’d be able to kill the dragons without a few sacrificial lambs to distract it.

Ever smiling behind the visage of cordial welcome, he walked toward the little one, his right hand empty and extended.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, but I suspect there won’t be much time for formalities with this fire advertising our position. I suppose it will help bring others here, and hopefully they can arrive and acclimate themselves before that big winged bastard arrives.

“Anyway, I apologize for the rudeness. Storm Veritas.”

His name often elicited a wide array of responses, generally ranging somewhere from anger to fear. While he looked completely ordinary, his misdeeds generally preceded him. Today, he suspected the adventurers had been forewarned of his history, given the interesting set of risks he presented.

[redford]

A thin tendril of smoke hung in the air before a gust of wind destroyed it. The gust moved down the slope to where John was walking, dissipating the smoke from his cigar in a similar way. John continued to walk forward, his steps crunching on the loose stone of the path. He felt a chill in the air on his head and shoulders not covered by armor, and when the wind picked up the air bared its teeth.

John sucked on the cigar, drawing the rich aroma into his mouth and holding for a moment before exhaling. The fire grew closer as he plodded along, his armored body showing through holes in his ragged tunic and pants, shining a little in the light of a foggy dawn.

The morning looked gray, but the sun’s growing brightness promised to drive off the mist and perhaps warm the mountain peak a little. John called to mind his invitation to this party. A letter had shown up at his house, promising quite a large bounty, as well as specifying the necessity for someone big and tough. John had to smirk a little through his usual stony demeanor; it appeared that he was gaining a little renown, at least renown that wasn’t associated with the massacre in Salvar.

Though as able as John was in combat, he doubted he could bag this particular quarry alone. A dragon, SunWing, had been harassing nearby towns and settlements for quite a while, and the folk in the area finally gathered the money to pay for its extermination. He was to meet his compatriots on this mountain, and then they would presumably make their move on the dragon. He puffed on his cigar again.

John approached the campfire, knowing that the noise he was making would be enough of an introduction. There were three around the small fire, two speaking together while a third walking the perimeter across from where John was entering. They had the confidence and ease of the combat hardened. John had a tendency to scare people who didn’t have that confidence, though they did turn and stare. That was not uncommon at all.

He stepped forward, cracking one of the flagstones under a giant metal foot as he held his hands over the fire, focusing on his hands until the armor receded, like liquid up his arms, thickening the armor on his chest. Now that the armor was gone, John could feel the warmth of the fire on his hands, and it was pleasant. The two were still looking his way. He spoke to them through the cigar in his teeth, knocking a finger against his chest, producing a ring for a second.

“John.”

Rain had begun to fall as he walked up the mountain, and had threatened to snuff his cigar several times in the evening, but the bonfire going in the camp was strong enough to vaporize the light rain before it would threaten his tobacco. He was thankful for that.

That just left the curiosity about their number. John had anticipated at least five, people. Where were the others?

[Elite Optic]

The pair of footsteps walked alongside one another, one short but light, the other slow but long and heavy. Wandering restless over the night and continuing till the break of dawn, he had no intention of waiting, and no intention of being late. This was his payday after all, something worth travelling through the wind and rain, across the malevolent mountain paths and through the dead of night.

The crepuscular horizon before them was the beginning of their performance, and it would be one of such violence, that the entire of Althanas would speak of it for decades to come. Sorian was but an old man, his short grey beard a frail version of its former years, but it was still him. His jaunt into in to wilderness was one of choice, but also one of great thought, he may be old, but he didn't need to fight himself to earn such a trophy.

The payday itself was more of a bonus to him, a way to enjoy his latter days, for all he desired was to seek his revenge on the beast that escaped him all those years ago. The sole survivor he was, the shadow of a great warrior he was not. They had tried all those years ago, to no avail, this time, it was personal.

"I hear voices, and I smell burnt wood. We are here."

The giant behind him walked in silence, not so eager thus far into their journey, but that would change upon greeting their foe. The very stone Sorian carefully walked over, crushed beneath its feet, but even in the brightest of mornings, it barely cast a shadow. This was no giant human, no frost giant of Berevar, once a man, changed and shaped into an immortal form, and by contract, it followed Sorians word.

"Tis journey bores me," it moaned. "I hope your destination makes for greater interest than I have felt so far."

A light smoke plume arose up before them, and a few dark silhouettes of people eclipsing the fires light stood around it. "Here we are Elite, the true start to my, revenge."

Pulling the weathered hood of his old brown cloak off his head, Sorians pace picked up, marching up to the camp with great pride in himself. Even if he himself could not strike the final blow to this great beast, having it slain through another magical creature was enough to avenge his comrades.

He arrived to a sudden stop, the ground appearing to just be greeting one another. His grey tired eyes surveying the men, all sat or stood around the flickering golden flames of the burning camp fire.

"Allow me, to introduce myself and my unusual guest. For my name is Sorian Harper, and what I lack in strength and health, I provide wisdom. Wisdom in that of a familiar, once foe, for a deal most worth your attention."

He bowed his near bald head politely, then grinned with his broad smile. Then, adjusted his pants through his cloak as he gestured into the shadows behind him. The giant skeleton stepped forward, the yellow dirty bones of thousands of years towering before the mercenary men. Waiting in silence, its burning eyes glowed a small light like lanterns in the night. While a large rusty looking sword of epic proportions rested across its shoulders, hilt in one hand, while intertwined with the large rack of cracked and tired skulls tied to its back.

"This gentlemen, is Elite Optic. And I have brought him here, to assist in our endeavour."

[Hysteria]

Few things rival that of a dragon. It was some time ago now, weeks dripping lazily into months and approaching years, that the plagued dragon had fallen in the Twilight Mountains. Things had happened quickly, too quickly for Talen to reach the mountains in time to take part. He didn’t care so much for heroism, not even the rewards bestowed upon those that had succeeded in taking down the creature. There was only one desire that drove the child onwards, that of adventure and the risk of death.

It was this longing that drove him that day as rain fell upon his small form and the wind cracked an icy whip. It was high in the barren mountains where only fools dared to tread that the group did just that. The others were somewhat more burdened by gravity than the child mage of dark intentions. He moved with unnatural easy through the air. No wings or clear force moved him, just the gentle pull of his own will. While the others that reached the small camp had done so along the narrow rocky trail that etched it's way through the mountainsides: Talen floated up from below.

It was wearing a dark cloak, hugging his frame, that the child dropped to the rocky ground of the camp. Drips from the rain ran down the dark clothing and his face would have carried a broad grin if the cold hadn’t been slowly etching into his bones. It was without much of a care for pleasantries that the walked up next to John and the fire. Talen looked almost comically small against the giant of a man, but if he realised, Talen didn’t show it.

“Bones, Giant,” said Talen, not turning to acknowledge either, “it seems that history repeats sooner than normal.”

Talen didn’t know the others by sight, and he was too far to hear the names earlier. Even if he had, they would probably have done little to jog his memory. Embodying his small form perhaps too much, he simply ignored the others.

[Cards of Fate]

Lightning crashed through the sky, piercing into a distant peak with a mighty boom. In a flash of light several boulders began a destructive tumble down the mountainside before hitting a freefall as they plummeted into the chasm below. Silence hung in the air for several moments before a loud crash rang through the air. The wind began to howl, and the rain began to pick up in it’s ferocity as it beat down at the five would be dragon slayers. One question seemed to hang in the mind of each hero.

Where was their quarry?

A loud, aggravated roar echoed out of the chasm as if to answer. Suddenly the sun seemed to rise in the midst of the violent storm as a bright iridescent creature tore into the sky from the crags below. Violent crimson embers trailed behind it its wake and danced in time with beating of the monsters wings.

Sunwing had risen.

It flew in several small circuits around the immediate area before spotting the camp and its denizens. Thinking little of them it simply spat a large fireball in their general direction. A warning shot.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The playmates that Bane had arranged for Shinsou were quite unlike anything the Telgradian had seen before. As the furrowed clouds rolled overhead, continuing to pelt the rocks below with monstrous beads of rain, Shinsou took turns in greeting the collective.

Storm Veritas was the first to arrive. After the man slid down from his mount and shook Shinsou’s hand, the Telgradian afforded the man a simple affirmative nod and ran his eyes over his counterpart’s frame. There was something about this one that exuded power. He dressed in fine clothes and his voice had a tinge of arrogance about it. Storm was pale and very lean, and almost sickly to look at with a first glance, but a longer look revealed a chassis that seemed to be trim and athletic. His long, tangled black hair obscured much of his face.

The most striking thing about this man was his complexion. It was almost lifeless, yet his eyes were glowing and bright, set deep and full of intrigue.

As Storm moved on towards the camp, Shinsou’s eyes followed the motions of a small flock of birds that danced around the morning rain in their mission to find shelter. Every now and then they would climb steeply to meet the frills of the looming clouds, before banking sharply and diving back towards the mountains again. As the flock performed their coup de grace, an upward loop before plummeting into the trees in the valley below them, the Telgradian’s golden eyes clapped onto the next of their band.

A small black dot on the pathway in the horizon congealed into the silhouette of a man. The clunking of metal accompanied the man’s footsteps and Shinsou could soon see the armour responsible for the racket – a pair of gauntlets that just came up to the man’s burly shoulders, and boots that come up to just below the knee. As the man approached the camp, Shinsou could make out more of his features. The man was square-jawed and thickly-built with a face that was matted with a layer of golden stubble, framed by flowing golden hair to match the beard.

The man stepped forward, shattering one of the stones under one of his giant metal foot. He held his hands over the fire, and focused until the gauntlets receded up his arms. Warming his hands, he turned and spoke to Shinsou through the cigar in his teeth, tapping a finger on his chest.

“John.”

Great, Shinsou thought to himself, we have a conversationalist in the group.

The next arrival appeared moments after John. For a moment all was silent as the men that had arrived set about making preparations at the campfire, but then suddenly the tell tale crunching of stones under feet struck up again. Shinsou could hear murmuring now, a heavily distorted voice through the rain talking to someone else, and then a ghoulish reply.

Shinsou froze in place as his next playmate appeared from around the corner.

This, he thought to himself, I had not been expecting.

He took a step backwards as a gargantuan skeleton stepped forward, his weighty feet grinding the gravel beneath them. A colossal frame of stained, yellow bones that looked thousands of years old towered before the Telgradian. It said nothing, but its burning eyes seared through the rain like lanterns in the night. While a large rusty blade rested across its shoulders, the giant hilt grasped in a single bony hand, a large rack of cracked human skulls swung from the creature’s back.

"This gentlemen is Elite Optic, and I have brought him here to assist in our endeavour."

Shinsou was momentarily startled by the man accompanying the beast, who had up until now gone completely un-noticed. The Telgradian shot a glance at the passing Bane, who was completing a further round of sentry duty at the campsite.

There’s something wrong with you, Shinsou mused internally at his bodyguard as he disappeared from view again, there really, really is something not right in your head.

Unknown to Shinsou, another had arrived in the time it had taken for the Telgradian to stop to have a quick chat with Bane on his third loop of the campsite perimeter. Eventually, when Shinsou gazed back at the collective assembled at the camp, he spotted the straggler. What seemed to be a child, swathed in a dark cloak that enveloped his form, drifted down to the rocky ground of the camp from somewhere above and walked up next to John and Elite Optic, who were now gathered round the dying fire. They seemed to exchange words, although Shinsou could not tell what was being said.

Whatever it was, it was short and provoked little response from any of those gathered.

Better get up there now, and get that campfire extinguished.

Suddenly, fork lightning ripped through the murky clouds, accompanied with a stomach-churning clap of thunder. For a moment afterwards there was a short silence, one that seemed suspended in the air for several moments before another loud crash bellowed through the air. A fearsome roar raged out of the chasm of the valley ahead and a winged creature tore into the sky from below. A stream of crimson embers trailed behind it as it darted towards the jagged peaks, and with every powerful beat of the monsters wings a plume of bright sparks would erupt into the moist air in a powerful magnesium flash.

Then, it came, a crude, jagged fireball that churned the air around it with its immense heat. It slammed into the ground near the Telgradian and the impact shook the ground beneath Shinsou, the resulting movement of white hot air almost searing the side of his face.

Shit!

Shinsou began a nightmare sprint back to the campsite whilst those gathered there sat bolt upright. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and off the end of his nose, mixing with the rain that had fallen onto his skin all morning. It took a few seconds for him to take everything in as the terrifying form of Sunwing darted past him overhead; the treacherous stone path back to the camp, the still fresh scent of burning embers from the fireball, and the flickering of the dying campsite.

He needed to get back there.

Now.

[Storm Veritas]

It wasn’t until the plan went to hell that Storm realized that the group had apparently established any sort of plan at all. The fiery tearing of tree limbs and explosion of rock shrapnel had assured them all that this would be no sneak attack. They would not work their way up the mountain to meet Sunwing in a cave where he may be controlled or cornered. Instead, they would have to face him here, in open air, with the rain pouring down and no practical cover.

The blast of rock was distant enough to only foretell the coming of the legendary dragon. As the mighty beast flew overhead, he seemed to whistle past the group as it soared low with great speed. Glowing with what seemed to be a yellow-orange color, it brought with it a trail of fire through the air, which was quickly doused into a magic steam by the rainfall. It was a horrible thing, an unimaginable combination of power and velocity that the tall wizard quickly calculated greatly outpowered the small eclectic group.

Holy shit. Didn’t even get a chance to figure out what all these idiots can do. Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

Storm instantly considered blasting the dragon with a bolt of electric rage, but immediately silenced the idea as stupid. The great thing was too far off already, and would probably burn them to smolders from long range if the group tipped their hand too easily.

Attila was spooked; this much was clear. A horse would often see itself as food for a dragon, although in times of battle the great things were rumored to turn their focus to human folks first. With the wet rock and pouring rains, the mighty steed wouldn’t serve much purpose here anyway. Veritas whispered something in the great black horse’s ear before smacking its haunch firmly, sending Attila running low down the mountain to safety. He turned to the group, speaking in a voice that was engaged and confident, if frenetic.

“Let’s get it closer. I can hit it with lightning, but from here it won’t be hard for that big bitch to dodge it. Anyone have an arrow, or spear, or anything they can throw to bring her back?”

He stood and faced the direction the dragon had flown, breathing deeply through his nose, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. A calm laid over him as his heart rate steadied into a measured beat. His hands would normally draw his blade from his hips, but such a weapon would be useless for now.

Looking around, the eyes of his companions told many stories. They came for different reasons; some for money, others for fame. Self-destructive tendencies weren’t all that uncommon about Althanas, particularly not when it came to adventurers. Storm had felt compelled by a draw to action, and knew that dragon’s blood was the fastest way to finance his long-term plans. Based on the initial judgment of the group of vagabonds that had gathered here, he was less confident than ever that things would go swimmingly.

Yep, we’re completely f*cked.

[Hysteria]

“Stupid rain…” muttered Talen, “I’ll get that bitch close enough for your attack mister lighting hands. The rest of you… do whatever it is you do.”

The child looked into the sky for a moment, blinking as the rain started to fall faster and faster. Draconus was as fickle as always and perhaps the Thayne favored the dragon over their group of ragtag adventurers and rogues. Talen lifted out his arms so his cloak spread out over the ground. He did so for just a moment before pushing them back to his sides and shooting up towards the sky.

A shadow streaked across the youth’s face and left behind a pair of goggles. The rain would at least not bother his eyes as much, but his vision would suffer. Talen pointed a hand up towards the dark clouds above. A burst of light ripped into existence from the end of the wand in his hand. A light, piercing the grey morning and calling the dragon towards him.

On the ground where Talen had launched into the air were three items. The youth’s repeater crossbow and a dozen spare bolts, the giant Boom Boom Maul and a rather plain steel spear. The maul was the most unique of the items, little more physically than a giant hunk of dehlar, it also had within stores of energy able to be released in powerful blasts of force. The weapon was not for the weak of body by any means.

Check my profile (link in sig) for the descriptions of the items. The hammer I’d suggest being used by John

[Elite Optic]

Handshakes, greetings and time was at a low, and the old bearded Sorian knew it would be as much. There was no mistake what was going to happen, no mistake the beast would be aware of their presence long before they were aware of it. Sorian had been here before, and that old memory of his failure and his lost friends, had always reminded him to be aware, to be cautious, to be prepared.

His eyes caught the flicker of a shadow in the skies, lit up by the thunderous lightening as it shook the very air like a volcano shakes the earth. Then, as it disappeared into obscurity, the spark of fire illuminated the clouds, and a mighty fireball raged across the sky before crashing into the mountain side.

Sorian steadied himself as the ground shook at his feet. The massive explosion erupted not far from their position and the red and orange light reached across the floor and into the air as it spread its fiery wings across the earth. The fire was just an extension of itself, he knew it, he could see the dragons silhouette in every flicker of the flame.

This was Sunwing.

Be it a memory or a vision, Sunwing left its impression on everything it touched, and Sorian could see it all. He could see his panic stricken friends, dying and burning, and now he could see his new colleagues, preparing to face off against the very fear that consumed Sorians past.

"Sunwing..."

He blew his warm breath on his cold hands and cupped them by his face, the warmth the fire ball had expelled reminded him how cold he really felt. Yet, as he took in the moment, as he filled with such emotion and familiarity, the giant twelve foot skeleton remained behind him. Unfazed, fearless and somewhat intrigued as it looked up at the sky for their foe.

"This is it, Elite. This is Sunwing, and as I predicted to you, he already knew we were here." He finally began to look around at the others, his trance of memories and excitement broken as he focused on the reality of their situation. "EVERYONE! He missed on purpose, he is toying with us, he is playing but a game with our lives."

His arms waved into the rain, almost fearless, for his trust in the knowledge of Sunwing and his new aid to take it down.

Elite gripped his blade ever tighter, he had not expected such an early introduction from the beast, even if Sorian had been so convinced of it. The realisation that this Dragon could be as intelligent and dangerous as Sorian claimed felt a little more true, but only time would tell. He lifted his blade down off his heavy shoulders and his rack of skulls rattled as the blade bashed past it. The two meter beast of a sword was fresh for battle, its visual rusty state a falsehood to any fool who believed what he saw at face value.

"It begins..."