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Thread: Tears of the Sun

  1. #11
    Deliver Us
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    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

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    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
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    Bane Stark, who had now stood guard at their campsite on the fringes of the Twilight Mountain for most of the ensuing chaos, shook his head in frustration as Shinsou broke his sprint inside the camp perimeter. The bodyguard’s still, scarred hand gripped around the hilt of his weapon. This time, it was not out of habit alone. Shinsou could see that his navy green ranger’s smock, usually smeared with mud and blood but nothing more, was singed at the edges. Behind his friend, the campsite was a hive of activity as the unusual collective of men bustled about their plans.

    “Where the fuck were you, boy?!” Bane roared, his eyes still surveying the sky overhead for any signs of Sunwing.

    ”Being the camp’s meet and greet, and then I thought I’d pop off to get incinerated,” Shinsou remarked as he wiped a thin layer of soot from his white cuffs, “what’s the situation old timer?”

    Bane shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I brought you some friends, so go and talk to them! They sound like they are starting to kick some ideas about so you might want to go and help out!”

    Shinsou knew that Bane was right; this was a rare opportunity for him, left to be completely unhindered and unchallenged by his mentor, and it was going to be too good for him to miss.

    Bane sighed as the Telgradian left his side. The ranger feared Shinsou had still not grasped the enormity of what the beast Sunwing had done to life in this once beautiful region. For the most part, the Twilight Mountains had ceased to function, with no-one daring to pass through. What few towns remained on this part of the border were now empty husks or looted, and the majority of their citizens were living mostly underground, under the protection of various hidden sanctuaries. There was fear and desolation at every turn.

    Shinsou was now calming. His soft, golden eyes swerved through the rain and across the rugged mountain edges not so far away, searching for any sign of the winged terror that had graced them with its presence. He could see Sunwing again in his mind. Its looming form would come for another pass again soon. In its wake, there would be that now familiar stench of burning fumes and seared flesh, the kind that would heave the stomachs of even the steeliest of men. Sunwing would cut through their ragtag party soon enough before turning its attention back to the rest of the area if they did not come up with a plan.

    But Shinsou wasn’t worried, even if he should have been.

    “Storm,” The Telgradian called out to the person he identified with the most, a man of silent, calm power, much like his own younger days, “…I overheard the child say something about lightning. Do you possess such power?”

    The Telgradian asked the question whilst he shook the rain from his own white greatcoat, momentarily ignoring the presence of the child as he distributed his weaponry to the masses. The rainstorm beat at the skin of the Telgradian’s face, droplets shattering into white orbs against his expressionless visage. He raised his hands up to make the rough form of a dragon, and pointed the underneath of the nearside wing, the wing that would they would likely be facing on Sunwing's return pass.

    “It doesn’t take a scientist to work out that we will beat Sunwing by grounding it. Will your powers allow you to strike at the skin flaps of the wing, where the hide is weakest? If we can burn a hole through that wing, Sunwing won’t be going anywhere but down. When it's on the ground...”

    Shinsou looked over his shoulder to see the various armaments being handed around. One of them was a huge warhammer.

    "...We can do the real damage. Even if you weaken the skin to the point of tearing, I can pierce it with my Dark Lance. So, can you, no, will you do it, Storm Veritas?"

    Shinsou wiped his brow with a dirty sleeve, smearing a streak of mud across his glistening forehead as he waited for the response. As with the uncertainty of the rains overhead, there was the same uncertainty again about Storm and the others.
    Last edited by Shinsou Vaan Osiris; 12-31-15 at 09:44 AM.

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  2. #12
    Fists of Fury
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    redford's Avatar

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    (Sir) John Albert Cromwell
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    John cursed his flightlessness as the dragon made a dive at their group, loosing a ball of fire that exploded on the ground, showering John with rock and water as Talen shot into the sky with a flash, leaving a few pieces of gear behind. The giant looked up, wondering if Talen would be able to carry him up to meet their foe.

    He looked down at the maul that Talen had dropped. It was a large thing, made of dehlar. It would be heavy, but that wouldn't keep John from being able to swing it like a normal sword or shield. Though he knew he could not swing it effectively, that any weapon he held not born of his armor was clumsy, he reached out anyway. It was a fine looking weapon, and John would have envied it in his years before his armor. The dragon roared a distance away, now locked with Talen, but John continued to stare at the warhammer, wondering if his idea was possible.

    There was only one way to find out.

    John's hand clasped the hammer in a viselike grip, giving it a test swing. To his dismay and frustration, it set him off balance and he stumbled forward. He growled at it, now focusing on his armor rather than the maul.

    Slowly, his armor began to creep up the shaft of the maul. It resisted, like a dog might resist its master, but obeyed as John exerted his will, and slid up further. The metal slid up from his feet, now stretched as thin as it would go. Eventually, the entire hammer was covered, and John smirked, swinging the hammer.

    It sailed through the air like the lightest sword, cleanly and neatly, like he'd never had his infirmity. The smirk spread across his face as he called out to Talen, not in derision, but in excitation. His voice roared across the mountain, John hoped it wasn't lost in the wind and rain.

    "Boy! Can you lift me?"

    If he could get on that dragon, he could ground it.
    Last edited by redford; 02-12-16 at 03:58 PM.
    'nature denied me claws and fangs, so I tore the earth apart, forging them of iron and crafting them of steel'

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  3. #13
    Member
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    Storm Veritas's Avatar

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    Storm Veritas
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    More pepper than salt.
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    Maybe these jackasses aren’t completely useless…

    It had seemed like a completely hopeless venture, trying any plan against the mighty dragon. The actions of these strange adventurers steeled him that perhaps an effort would be worthwhile.

    The kid appeared to show the promise first. He produced a mighty crossbow, brandishing it with fury and determination that betrayed his appearance. He looked like he was too young to have lain with a woman, but clearly the façade was nothing more than a ruse. The light from the heavens split the clouds a single golden stream upon the youth that certainly would get the attention of mighty Sunwing.

    The big skeleton thing looked the most imposing of the group, standing ten feet tall and wielding a sword that looked as long as Storm was tall. Mentally, the wizard made note to steer clear of this walking horror, lest that big slab of iron catch him a glancing blow that would cleave an appendage and likely leave a festering infection behind.

    The Telgradian, the thin one, he spoke directly to Storm, requesting a blast of lightning.

    “It’s like requesting rabbits to fuck, or geese to shit, kid. It’s sort of what I do. You’ll want to give me a little room.”

    There was no response, only a wry smile from the now calmed aristocrat. The rain beat his dress shirt across his body, his sinewy and athletic musculature a surprise to anyone who would typically assume him soft and sugar-fed. The dragon would come at the kid, but he was so big and so fast that Storm couldn’t wait on the big beast to get too close.

    If he gets too close, then I’m just as likely to hit the knight, who looks like he’s going to be helpful. Happy this big bitch glows, because I can barely see shit through the mists.

    He wouldn’t share his lack of confidence with the group; this wasn’t his first rodeo and a freefall in morale was the last thing they needed. This moment required simple action, and he was all too happy to deliver. Storm leapt high in the air, giving him a better line of sight to the monstrous beast. A white ball of buzzing energy popped from the ether into his hand, exploding forward in an arcing sizzle-BOOM sound that rocketed towards his enemy. The beast was still far ahead of him, and he couldn’t see if his mighty strike had landed.

    The clean odor of ozone filled his nostrils as he landed on the hard rock in a splash, waiting for the hopeful howl of a wounded dragon.

  4. #14
    In The Eye of a Hurricane
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    Cards of Fate's Avatar

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    Vincent Cain (OOC just call me Fred)
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    Saphire
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    six foot four and slim build
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    The brutal beast had begun to swing around for another volley of attacks when the lightning struck it square in the chest with a loud crack, shearing several large scales and leaving the tender skin beneath exposed. It howled with agony and shot forward with both grace and speed few had ever seen in a creature so large. Behind it a trail of steam and embers danced violently in the wind.

    Sunwing was angry.

    It ignored the youth in the sky for a moment and turned its attention to the men on the ground, specifically the one who’d just shot him. Its mighty maw parted, and the creature loosed a torrent of fire that could melt stone to lava. Instantly all steam in the path of its attack dissolved into a wall of massive steam. The creature hovered to observe its work, amber eyes scanning for movement. When it became clear the steam would not clear, the fiend dropped from the sky onto the earth and let out a roar.

    This was his territory, he would not be bested.
    There is a darkness in you. In all of us, probably. Beasts we keep chained. Ordinary men have to keep the chains strong, for if we let the beast loose then society will turn upon us with fiery vengeance. Kings though...well, who is there to turn upon them? So the chains are made of straw. It is the curse of kings, Helikaon, that they can become monsters. And they invariably do.

    Rayleigh is pretty chill. ♥

  5. #15
    Member
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    Storm Veritas's Avatar

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    Storm Veritas
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    Like a horseshoe thrower landing a ringer, the satisfaction of the whip-crack explosion of Storm’s mighty blast sent a wave of sadistic joy through him. His power was real, it was lethal, and near Godly. His muscles felt stronger, his heart pumped harder, and his eyes saw more clearly as his own legend was justified with the strike. Surely, there was no missing the splash of hard scales that rained down from the chest of the great dragon; the tender spot glowed with the same luminous sheen that its wings did. He had created a great glowing bulls-eye for the group to attack.

    And become a delicious looking bulls-eye for that big bitch in return.

    Indeed, Sunwing’s counterattack was far more furious; the winged demon turned back and blasted a torrent tunnel of fire directly at the earthbound wizard. The world to the east was covered behind a blanket of steam, which hung from the heavens as a matador teases the great bull. Unfortunately for the party of adventurers, they were not the harmless air that the bull generally charged through, for they were made of meat and bone.

    Storm Veritas could concern himself with no such problem, as he jumped hard to his right to avoid the oncoming inferno. He dodged the blast with grace and athleticism, looking back to the stone ground that absorbed the fire. The sheet of rock exploded in great orange embers, shrapnel of fire and brimstone arcing some twenty feet from the strike area. He deflected a single, fist sized stone with his glove, feeling the sizzle of seared leather and just escaping his own end.

    Beneath the strike zone, the heat had begun to collect, a molten hemisphere of liquefied ore and earth rising from the ground like a fiery bubble from a child’s toy.

    “It’s going to pop, get the f*ck back!!”

    He was right, of course, but also too slow. The bubble of fire popped with an impossible intent, firing a spray of the lava-slop towards him. This time, he was a bit slow, and a splash the size of two great hands landed low on his left foot. The process was almost comical as he pushed himself back further, as though some secondary magic was coming from the earth behind it. The pain also took it’s sweet time to manifest, as he felt the leather of his boots burn and then immediately feel as if they were fusing to his skin.

    “GET IT OFF!!! KYYYAAAAHHH!”

    With his right foot, he kicked hard at the heel of his left boot, knocking it clear and pulling a steak-sized strip of flesh with it. The tearing of his pants – pulling the left pant leg at the knee – seemed reasonably, as the pants had fused to the boot in the horrific ordeal. The falling rain seemed to fall around the wound, as the heat still poured from his foot and lower leg.

    Desperately, the infamous Veritas scanned about for any sort of plan. Refuge, rescue, or relief from the pain was needed in the worst sort of way; he wouldn’t be running well on the leg for days to come.

    Or ever, if they don’t get you out of the way of this flaming asshole.

  6. #16
    Wide eyed & bushy tailed
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    Hysteria's Avatar

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    Remedy Blue

    Talen had been ignored.

    Perhaps a better way of describing it was that the dragon had not had a chance to attack him. In the mind of Talen, the dragon had ignored him. The child's hands tightened around the wand as his arms fell to his side. Not only had the dragon not attached him, it had flown passed him to attack the rest of the group. He flicked the wand out of his hand and a moment into the air it puffed out of existence. The youth’s hands pulled of his cloak, now thoroughly wet from the rain, and let it fall like another drop from the sky. The youth’s hair was a short tangled mess, save that held down by the straps of the goggles wrapped firmly against his head. His arms were bare, slicked wet from the rain and pale white. The sleeveless shirt, what little of it that had stayed frt under the cloak, rapidly darkened with water. The child’s body tensed as he watched the fire wash towards his accidental comrades.

    The heat hit him first, even the distance was did not completely stop it. A moment after the warm lick of steam followed. Talen ignored both, his eyes following Sunwing as it landed. The lighting attack had caused a potential chink in the dragon’s armour and in the back of Talen’s mind he knew he should probably target it. Talen ignored that thought.

    The youth appeared right in front of the dragon’s giant right eye in a blink. The youth’s face was twisted into a smile as he pointed a finger directly at the large amber orb. No words of bravado, nor pause to gloat from the child. He had jumped out of reality and back close enough he could nearly reach out and touch the creature’s eye. He would not leave this shot to chance. From his finger materialised dark energy crystalised into shards of obsidian. They blasted out in a cone towards Sunwing’s eye. The shards themselves were not enough to do long term damage to the dragon’s sight, but Talen had put extra ingredients into ensure this time he wasn’t ignored. The first was poison, dragged from the corpses of Madison Freebird’s victims, was infused into each one. Poison that would decay flesh on a cellular level and cause intense agony. The second was raw energy. The crystals would explode on impact, shattering their forms into dozens of razor sharp, poison syringes. The force of the attack itself was enough to disintegrate a door like it was nothing. The poison was there to make sure the attack was permanent.

    I’ll take that eye. Then I’ll take the other. Your life will be mine dragon.

  7. #17
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    Elite Optic's Avatar

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    Elite Optic
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    This will have to do. Sorry guys, bad times.
    Sorian watched in amazement, the pure power of Sunwing, the intense fire and heat, the speed and agility of such a creature was beyond that of anything he had ever seen.

    It felt so nostalgic, so familiar, and as frightening as it was, he would not fear it again. Caution was not fear, caution was being smart.

    The rest were a futile bunch, what did it really matter what happened to them as long as the dragon was destroyed.

    "Elite!" He called out, his voice now louder and boarder than ever. "He is coming down, he is landing before us! Destroy it! Kill Sunwing!"

    Elite gripped his sword tightly. He had been ignored, being a skeleton it was entirely possible he didn't appear to be a foe. Yet he was here to do a job, so where the dragon would see it or not, it would certainly feel it. It was always a mistake to under estimate your opponent, and if the beast had never considered Sorian worth remembering, Elite would ensure that he would remember him now.

    "This will be interesting." Elite muttered as he held his sword out wide.

    The dragon seemingly distracted by the others, he could approach like a shadow if he wished. Yet that was never his style, and he would enjoy releasing his pure rage and power upon such a creature. He sprinted forward into a powerful charge, his two meter long machete style sword out wide and prepared for a deadly attack.

    The dragons wings held out wide, it would take again at any moment, this could be the only attack Elite could have if he wasn't quick enough.

    Moving into view, Elite swung his sword in one almighty attack as he dashed towards the dragons right wing. If he could clip it, chop it, snap it. He could keep this battle on the ground, the only place he had any chance of winning.
    Elite Optic - Evil is just a term derived by the cowards who are simply to afraid to try something new...

    The Return of Elite Optic Score: 62

  8. #18
    Deliver Us
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    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

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    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
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    Shinsou watched on with awe as Storm Veritas unleashed a lethal bolt of lightning at the mighty, looming form of Sunwing. The satisfaction in Storm’s countenance as the mighty strike sheared away a patch of its rock-solid hide was as good as, if not better than, verification that a window of opportunity had arisen for the former Telgradian Golden King and his entourage. There was no mistaking the pelting of those hard scales that fell from the chest of the now-enraged dragon against the unforgiving terrain surrounding them and now the exposed spot glowed with the same raging light that its wings did.

    Buoyed by the success of Storm’s initial assault, and needing no further motivation to make his move, Shinsou started his counterattack. The plan was to get his Dark Lance right into that fiery flesh and cause as much damage as possible to this formidable flying beast. As his feet began to pound the gravel path below him, the winged fury roared back towards their position with a bonechilling howl. Within seconds of the blood-curdling battle cry, the mighty Sunwing blasted a funnel of terrifyingly powerful flame directly at the Telgradian and Storm.

    Fuck!

    Storm Veritas leapt hard to his right to avoid the oncoming inferno, whereas Shinsou parted ways to the left, throwing himself to the floor. Whereas the slick, sleek Storm evaded the blast with a certain flair and athleticism, Shinsou rolled awkwardly onto his side and recoiled as an agonising pain shot up from his sciatic nerve where a piece of scorched, jagged stone had struck his back like a bullet. The nearby sheet of rock that took the brunt of Sunwing’s attack had exploded into dangerous, white hot fragments that scattered at great velocity twenty or thirty feet from the epicentre and now one was lodged in Shinsou’s spine.

    ARGH!

    The pain was simply agonising, but Shinsou had other problems. Beneath the area of impact, a molten dome rose from the ground and burst, spraying the area with a veritable mist of magma.

    With nothing but pure will to survive driving his motor functions, Shinsou dug his left foot into the ground and kicked hard, almost passing out from the pain cause by the shrapnel lodged near the base of his spine, and the hellish lava storm that had threatened to consume him missed his bare flesh by mere millimetres

    As he looked up, grinding his teeth to get him through the pain, Shinsou could see the form of the child near the head of the now grounded Sunwing. His cloaked, young body shimmered in the heat that rose from the devastation Sunwing had rained down upon them, and then jolted forward to attack the mighty dragon’s eye. Suddenly, through the flames, something else also joined the fray, sprinting from the left. Behind the smoke, the mysterious figure congealed into a form, a silhouette of a skeleton with brilliant red eyes, stained bones and the cold, brutal expression of a predator. It took a mighty swing of its rusting cleaver, aiming for Sunwing’s idle right wing.

    The dragon, which was either distressed by the sudden counterattacking onslaught or from taking further wounds that Shinsou hadn’t witnessed, reared its head in rage. By doing so, that glowing wound was fully exposed, not twenty feet away from the Telgradian.

    Seek not beauty in battle. Seek not beauty in death. Consider not your own life. If you wish to re-gain that which was lost to you, then strike while your opponent's back is turned.

    The words of his mentor, Telos Soltair of the Council of Five, raced through his mind. Shinsou knew that if this behemoth that had tried to incinerate him moments ago was allowed further opportunity, there was no hope for any of them.

    There was no time to waste.

    Fighting the waves of pain pulsing up his spine and into his brain, Shinsou rolled onto his front and rose his right palm level with the horizon and outstretched his fingers, closing his eyes whilst he focused his power into his arm. Immediately, a thin streak of dark energy snapped into existence and expanded rapidly, forming a solid conical shape. Tendrils of purple electricity entwined round the Dark Lance and spiralled up Shinsou’s right arm, stinging his bare, singed flesh. With Sunwing’s wound in clear sight, and with the mighty beast of flame distracted, Shinsou suddenly jerked forward and put the full force of his strength behind the Dark Lance. He watched through tears of agony as the projectile left his grip and tore towards the glowing chasm in the armour like hide of the monolithic creature.

    This was his last chance to pierce the heart of Sunwing.
    Last edited by Shinsou Vaan Osiris; 01-27-16 at 01:07 PM.

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    "When we were young, was this the dream we had? We're celebrating nothing. We need to find our way back."

  9. #19
    Fists of Fury
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    redford's Avatar

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    (Sir) John Albert Cromwell
    Age
    40
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    Human
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    Sandy blonde, falls around his shoulders barely
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    blue
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    A sea of lava and steam separated John from his quarry, the haze of shimmering heat and steam obscuring the dragon's form slightly.

    He needed to get there, make sure the dragon didn't rise again.

    He looked down at the lava. He could sprint around, and get there late, or he could run through it, and get there early.

    The half-giant steeled his mind against what he was about to do and concentrated on his armor, feeling himself rise an inch or two as the metal thickened around his feet, and came off the maul that Talen had proffered. He jumped twice, then set off in a dead sprint directly at Sunwing. Two steps in, and the armor began to grow hot. Three steps in, and the magic of the gauntlets began to work against the heat, keeping John from burning as the armor grew red-hot. By the sixth, his feet were growing hot and he finally leapt from the lava on to solid ground, refusing to break his stride as he concentrated on his armor again, barely catching the sight of Elite rushing as well. His armor snaked up from his boots in rivulets up his legs, the half giant realizing too late that the armor was lava-hot. It burned his mind with pain, but he refused to yield to it as it moved up his torso and through his arms, coating the maul in red-hot fury. He screamed, in pain and rage alike as his shirt began to catch flame, reacting to the heat that flowed across his body moments before; but all of this was secondary.

    John was going to hit Sunwing, and by the gods it was going to hurt.

    He leaped mightily, continuing his scream as he swung the maul down at Sunwing, unknowingly activating the magic within his weapon.
    Last edited by redford; 02-12-16 at 04:00 PM.
    'nature denied me claws and fangs, so I tore the earth apart, forging them of iron and crafting them of steel'

    Althanas' Fitiest Fiter (2015-2016)

    got an ingot of titanium
    http://www.althanas.com/world/showth...osed-to-Logan)

  10. #20
    In The Eye of a Hurricane
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    Cards of Fate's Avatar

    Name
    Vincent Cain (OOC just call me Fred)
    Age
    20ish
    Race
    Earthling
    Gender
    Male
    Hair Color
    Sandy Blonde
    Eye Color
    Saphire
    Build
    six foot four and slim build
    Job
    Badass motherfucker

    The summary of events that would follow the Dragons latest attack would be the subject of legends in the local area for the next few decades. The mighty Sunwing, in all of its pride, had ignored one of its foes and paid the ultimate price. The shadow magic tore through its massive eye like icemold through papers, sending loose a torrent of acidic blood to rain down upon the ground just as torrentially as the rain a round them. The beast reared back and let out a howl only to be barraged with several more attacks. John Cromwell delivered a massive blow that would shatter the creatures skull into tiny fragments, sending it face first into the dirt.

    The Skeleton, with a single chop, nearly tore half the creatures wing off. Lastly the spear of dark energy struck true, piercing the exposed flesh of the dragon and driving itself home into the creatures heart.

    Sunwing attempted to howl as it thrashed backwards, flapping vainly with its torn wing to gain some momentum away from its foes. All that came out was a gurgling scream of terror. Blood gushed like a fountain from this creature as it thrashed about and sank to the ground. In its death throes it attempted to belch out one last burst of fire, but it caught in the beast's shattered maw and began to slowly immolate the creature.

    The menace was dead.
    There is a darkness in you. In all of us, probably. Beasts we keep chained. Ordinary men have to keep the chains strong, for if we let the beast loose then society will turn upon us with fiery vengeance. Kings though...well, who is there to turn upon them? So the chains are made of straw. It is the curse of kings, Helikaon, that they can become monsters. And they invariably do.

    Rayleigh is pretty chill. ♥

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