In the gaze of the moon

[Hysteria]

A mother’s caress is one of the few pure things in Althanas. Meanwhile men vie for power, stepping and trodding on others in order to get that step closer to ultimate power. On the streets it is no different, the swarming mess of human filth runs into the gutters. It is so thick, so tainted by stench of sweat and debauchery it’s odor reaches up into the Twilight Mountains. Normally, high in those jagged peaks and capped with snow, it can be ignored. Sometimes, just sometimes, there is a stirring loud enough for even those isolated peaks to be reached. When mortals cross that line, doing something so horrible that it echoes through the mountains, then all shall see how pure a mother’s rage can be.

Two giant wings unfurled. Even in the darkness of the cave flickers of light rippled across their surface. The air was filled with the sound of shifting coins as thousands of gold pieces were pushed aside so the creature’s main body could emerge. The initial slow movement quickened, a puff of flames illuminating the area and catching both armoured scale and gold alike. The dragon’s body lurched forwards, four legs causing cascading crashes of gold with each footfall. The limbs quickened into a run until the creature explode out into the cold light of day.

The dragon looked at home among the white peaked mountains. Her scales were pure white, each one was a vibrant ivory colour, catching and reflecting the sunlight with an astounding pale luminosity. With each beat of her wings, the dragon lurched forwards towards the edge of the mountains. Her rage was boiling over, building up and releasing in an ear-shattering roar. The sound echoed through the mountains and flowed down into the vallies below.

Moonwing had emerged, and she would have vengeance.


* * * *

It took a week for the news of the attacks to reach the capital. At first they were laughed off, surely we have cleared out all the dragons? No, no, there simply can’t be three. And yet, the reports kept coming. First there was the mysterious plague dragon, bringing the terrible plague from afar, war torn island. The second was Sunwing, the young dragon that had terrorised towns and slayed most that had been sent to end it. Now there was another, bringing more destruction and fire.

A now familiar call had gone out to all mercenaries and monster hunters; Please rid us of this monster… What information about the creature’s attacks was vague, most was only the reports of survivors of former attacks. However, those that were smart enough, or lucky enough, would realise that the direction of the attacks pointed at a small town of no more than a few dozen people. This was the location of Moonwing’s attack, and the place of her possible defeat.


* * * *

Jormungstadt, the tiny town perched below the Twilight Mountains. It has once been a prosperous town, acting as one of the only transportation routes between one of the larger mines and the rest of Alerar. However, all good things come to an end. The min had eventually shut after a series of collapses, the only vein of fertile metals were under tones of loose rubble, and despite every attempt there was no way to dig any further. A decade later and the town was a shadow of it’s former glory. A grand church was the centre of the town, adorned with thick white marble, somewhat stained with years of weather and neglect. Most of the buildings on the outskirts had been stripped a long time ago, with many just the foundations now.

Despite this, the town was a cheery place. With a small population and relatively healthy flow of coins comes a close knit community. Elves and humans lived in peace, with more than a few half-bloods mixed in. There were a few dwarves as well, generally routine travellers going to and from the strongholds of their kin.

The town was a hive of activity on the fair day of potential destruction. People had heard the rumours of dragons further north, but did not consider their small town might be next. The weekly market continued as planned, with rows of tables lined with goods stretching all the way around the church. Nearly the whole town was in attendance and their ranks were swelled by travelling merchants that had stopped to sell a few wears, or restock for the next journey. The air was filled with the smell of cooked meats and vegetables and the happy chatterings of folk. Soon that would change.

[Storm Veritas]

The mighty Attila charged forward, chewing up the barren landscape that separated their arriving port town of Etherea and their target, Jormungstadt. The hard-packed earthen surface was perfect for the brilliant horse, who lost no energy to soft soil but suffered none for the travel. Even with two atop him, the massive stallion darted forward effortlessly.

Been a long time since I visited this shithole. I still think that this falls under the jurisdiction of “not-my-f*cking-problem”.

When news of the mythically sized dragon looming overhead reached Storm, it was sat in his stomach like a cold lump of lead. He had been one of the instigators of this fight, playing a key role in defeating the mighty Sunwing. He still had plenty of tender flesh left to show for it; a large patch on his lower left leg where a bad burn had only begun to heal. The memory of that terrible thing wouldn’t soon escape him, either. The glowing flesh, the torrential breath of fire, and the speed of the abomination was branded into his brain. He even had one of the horns of Sunwing stored away for safe-keeping, a souvenir that would likely upset a grieving mother a great deal.

Periodically, he noticed small caravans. Wagons, carts, and horse troops carrying families small and large. Humans and elves alike appeared quiet and confused, unsure why any would charge towards the site where the great dragon loomed while they fled town in desperation.

Still shouldn’t be my problem; I picked my fight and won it. Why can’t they send the militia after the mama dragon? If she’s as big as the rumors say, this is the work for five hundred men, not five.

He had been talked into it simply enough; a brutal guilt trip from a genuine, no-shit hero that Veritas expected simply wanted to do the right thing. Internally, he disagreed; the people of Alerar were known to be so goddamned smart that they should have been able to fix this on their own. Alerar had a huge military, second maybe only to Corone. To further complicate things, all of their technology had created a thick layer of smog that blanketed the city like an omnipresent reminder of their own filth. It likely made for the perfect hiding spot for Moonwing, who could use the blanket to appear, strike, and retreat effortlessly, eviscerating the cities below her.

Too much for their fancy military technology, I guess. Their musket-shot or scorpion-bolts must be too slow, too weak, or too awkward. Like a Dark Elf trying to get laid.

They approached the city, and he felt her arms around his waist atop the great beast again. They had been silent for some time; it was likely they were both scripting their own plan to take down the fantastic monster. The outpouring of people increased in pace as they neared the city, where tall buildings looked to be looming bulls-eyes for what could be imminent dragon strikes.

He strode into the town with his magnificent partner behind him, noticing the lack of fervor. For the several packs of people who had left, far more stayed behind, tending to their normal daily activities. The air was warm, the sun was bright, and people happily tended to carts selling food and goods just as they would in Radasanth’s Center Square. It dawned on Storm that perhaps there was more madness in the mundane, specifically as these people sat on the precipice of disaster.

They don’t know. They think the people leaving are lying. Holy shit.

[Karuka]

Taische had refused to come further into Alerar than the port town with ferocity and will that her mother had never seen before. Karuka expected it had something to do with the still less-than-clear happenings while the child had been inadvertently in the care of her father. Of course, as a Tenalach and the mother of a Tenalach, she also couldn't blame her daughter for not wanting to come into the overly-developed land. The ground screamed into their senses, even through the confining boots they hated wearing. It wept because it was being poisoned, groaned because it was being ripped open and abused.

If not for the skinny mage who rode right in front of her going and starting problems, Karuka wouldn't have been in Alerar. She didn't like the nation any more than her daughter did. Fortunately, she had friends and people whose lives she'd saved scattered across the continent and island nations alike, so she'd been able to find someone trustworthy to look after Taische while she and her lover thundered across the broken and patchy landscape to deal with Moonwing. With any luck, the desire to not be in the land of the dark elves would override the child's tendency to wander.

She traced a rune on the back of Storm's neck when he slowed Attila from a canter to a walk. He'd experienced it several times in Dheathain, though he'd only been conscious for one application. He'd earned his burn from Sunwing, so she'd just given him salves to help with the pain and monitored it to make sure it didn't get infected. Now that they were about to face the young dragon's vengeful mother, she needed him healthy.

While he observed the town of Jormungstadt with macabre bewilderment, she looked around with deep dissatisfaction. She'd told Storm to come here because she'd seen the dragon attacking the town. They'd raced with all the speed his mighty horse could give them, but even so, she could feel the dragon's approach like a doe could feel a forest fire. She could almost taste the rank reptilian musk, and her lips curled as though rejecting something bitter. She could feel from the horse's shuffling beneath her that he could feel it, too.

"This'll ay be a mess, Storm. A damn bloody one, at that."

The golden-skinned redhead reached out, providing a perch for the massive red and orange bird that had flown alongside them across the country. His powerful, scaly feet gripped her carefully enough that his dagger-like talons didn't so much as scratch her flesh, but most of his attention was directed north. He fluffed and shook anxiously, clacking his beak to show his discontent. He was a bird raised and trained to hunt and fight, but he had seen what was coming on the horizon, and he didn't like it. Even an ancient phoenix would hesitate to tangle with an angry dragon, and Taodoine was still a resurrection or two away from being a full adult in his own right.

"I know, I know. But I told y' t' stay with Taische, and y' wanted no part in that, didja? Y' wanted t' come with me." The raptor hissed his reproach and regret. Karuka leaned forward, hooking her chin over Storm's bony shoulder.

"We need t' start gettin' th' people out, if we can." To follow her own advice, the redhead jumped down from the horse's back, patting the meaty flank before she headed to the nearest stand. "Get on out, now. Take yer families an' whatever supplies y' can grab now, nothin' else. Go. Go! Don'tcha know there's a dragon comin?!"

Some of the nearby citizens looked at her, bewildered and barely comprehending her through her accent. Others caught the urgency in her tone and the word "dragon," and quickly ran off.

It's not enough. Where's th' well? An' hopefully this town's had rain of late...

[redford]

John winced a little as Jamie pulled a bandage from his back, and leaned forward more in his oversized chair. His burns were mostly healed by now, but they had left rough scars, crisscrossing his legs, torso, and arms like dozens of little rivers. Currently, the only places not fully healed were parts of his back, where he could not quite reach to change the bandages. Jamie spoke, dipping a rag in water and cleaning his burns again.

“I still don’t think you should go, especially since your back still hasn’t healed,” she said, placing a fresh cloth pad on his back.

John sighed deeply, knowing this conversation was bound to happen. It did every time he was contracted for mercenary work.

“I’ve got to, Jamie.”

Jamie stood, walking around to face the half-giant. She knew that in times where he was calm, his words were laden heavy with thought, though his words would seem simple.

“But why? You have no obligation to this task,” she replied, turning to grab a roll of bandages.

“Because I started this, Jamie,” he said, reaching to fondle his necklace made of dragon teeth, souvenirs of Moonwing’s son. He continued, more to himself than to her. “And I know her anger. I know what it is like to lose a child.”

Jamie began to wrap his torso with bandages, making sure that the pad at his back was still properly placed.

“And…” she probed.

“And, I know the horrible things parents do to avenge their children. Moonwing may be a beast, but we who killed her son have brought this. If she must take her revenge, she will take it on me, and not the people of Jormungstadt.”

A sigh from behind him, and he felt Jamie’s head rest on his neck. She reached for one of his hands, running her fingers along his calluses. She spoke, placing her palm flat against his to marvel at the size difference.

“When would you go?”

“For every moment I wait, more innocent people may die.”

Jamie traced a scar along the half-giant’s forearm, feeling the rough lumps and valleys where he’d been burned. She steeled her mind against him leaving, for once John made up his mind, there was little anyone could do to deter him.

“Well, if you must go, then you must go. I’ll get a bag for you,” she said, turning aside to a side room, but hesitating. “Just…..just come back, okay? You can’t protect anybody if you’re dead, you know.”

-----------------------------------------------------

An ice cube clanked in John’s glass just before the whiskey sloshed inside, dropping him out of his reminiscing. It was one sound among many in the jolly, if sparsely occupied little bar in Jormungstadt. Pretty barmaids bounced from table to table, and back to the bar for refills of beer and food. The bartender had kept a wary eye on John from the moment he walked in, but had since softened his gaze since John’s coin was good and plentiful. It was odd, usually impending doom dampened the mood of the locals, but this place bore no such anxiety. The bartender spoke, with a low voice, as if the jolly nature of the establishment was held together by a little thread, and if he spoke too loud, it would break.

“You here’ta, ta fight tha dragon?”

John drained his glass of whiskey, which was little more than a shot to him, and snapped his fingers, producing a cigar in his hand. With a second snap it was lit and he sucked the rich aroma into his mouth.

“Aye, are there others?”

“Some, but not many.”

It was all odd to John, he thought, as the bartender turned away, cleaning another glass. John had seen battle, but never had he grown used to the knowledge that an ambush was approaching. Especially since there was no way to know from whence it came, nor the exact strength of his foes. It was all unnerving, he thought as he drained another glass of whiskey. There was but one thing he could do.

Wait.

[Revenant]

Destruction. Demolition. Annihilation. So many words for a concept that, at its core, was the simplest thing. You took something that was and made it into something that wasn’t. It was the natural course of events. It was the basic state of the world, of existence itself. Everything that was would one day not be. No matter how much one struggled, no matter how many laboring backs broke themselves to make it not so, eventually everything would come down to nothing.

Destruction was coming for Jormungstadt.

William leaned against the side of the local church and watched the market crowd milling through the streets, going about their daily business as if lives weren’t about to be irrevocably changed forever. Of course, he thought as he idly pulled the rind from some yellow citrus he had just purchased, what reason should they have to think so? Sure there had been rumors of ancient beasts rising in the north, but nothing like that would ever make its way to Jormungstadt. Things like that only happened to important places. Places where gods walked and legends fought. Surely nothing like that would ever happen in a small village in the shadow of the Twilight Mountains?

The Revenant grinned and popped a sliver of tart fruit flesh into his mouth. They didn’t know. They couldn’t feel it the way that he could. They were simple mountain folk, miners and traders and the like. To them, a tunnel collapse or a missed shipment of supplies was the worst scenario that they could imagine. But he knew. He could see the wooden buildings crumbling to ash in his cursed sight, could smell the scent of charred flesh and hear the crack of blackened bone. Destruction was part and parcel to him, woven into the fabric of his soul by ancient magic.

William tossed the last bits of fruit into the dust and took up the obsidian haft of his warscythe. He pulled his cloak low down to shield his burning eyes from view, but he needn’t have worried. Despite the packed crowd no one wanted to be near the Revenant. There was something about William, even in his human form, which warned away others. A raw sense of violence and heat which flowed from him and made it clear to others that he was not someone to be trifled with.

Destruction came in many forms. Fires that raged forth from an accidental slip of a lamp; the cold bite of a raider’s sharp steel; the unstoppable quaking of the angry ground; there were many ways in which people and places could simply end. This time is would be a mother’s wrath for its fallen child, a force more implacable and enduring than the stars themselves.

Destruction was coming for Jormungstadt, William Arcus grinned from the darkness of his cowl, and he would be there for it.

[Ioder]

It was more a work and charity really, this didn't have anything to do with his overall goal. Ioder found himself, for lack of a better word, attracted to the aspect of the imminent chaos more than anything. News of the pale dragon reached his ears in less than a fortnight and even quicker the soul broker made way to the small town. Oh the bountiful harvest that would soon be upon him.

He found refuge in the small congregation attending service. It was a fairly large church and Ioder felt at home here. On each side of the large stone arches were beautiful stained windows through which a rainbow cascaded in. Twenty cushioned pews lined each wall separated by a extravagant rug leading to an alter in the front. Three men stood by the alter dressed in ceremonial robes addressing the service. Ioder sat in the rear, only the first three pews we're filled, he didn't want to get aquanted to anyone. With the eminent threat luming overhead there was simply no point.

Ioder hide his face from the piering eyes of the congregation behind the rim of his hood. His wings gently tucked away and out of site. Alessia, his enchanted blade, present on his waist stowed in and inscribed sheath. He looked like a merc, rough and mysterious, not a face you would see in a service.

The three leaders we're telling tale of old proverb mentioning hardships and struggle. May perhaps they we're preparing their flock for what might be to come. Or just reciting memorized lines they have spat time and time again. It mattered not if the rumors we're true there would soon be carnage. That sweet nector which fueled the his business would flow through the valleys either by a dragon or he himself.

Ioder smirked at the very that thought. He had eenough of the service and proceeded to leave the church. As he did I he caught the gaze of the church goers looking him up and down. In the back of his mind he hated the attention, which was in his nature as a shape changer. He passed though the stone doors and into the hustle and bustle of the market place. Outside the town was alive and well and Ioder couldn't tell if everyone here was oblivious or here for the show.

[Hysteria]

Do you know what I saw on my way here?

The words were loud and dripping with hatred. Each and every person in the small town on Jormungstadt heard them. There was no subtlety in her telepathy, no gentle whisper or nudge. For a moment every thought, every memory was shoved aside for her words.

I saw Arztschlange, the Eternal. Dead. Killed by your kind like so many of my brethren.

The second blast of raw telepathic magic subsided like the first, leaving everyone in a moment of silence before their thoughts could catch up. It was only a moment however, the screams followed fast. The town had been held together with naught but a few strings holding back the tide of panic. The dragon’s words cut them away like nothing. Out in the streets panic erupted. People fled in every direction, unsure if of just how to escape the coming doom. Inside the church the pastor stumbled on his robes as he tried to run off the pulpit to his quarters. His head hit the stone floor with a resounding crack and a pool of blood quickly circled the twisted snarl on his face.

In any crowd a few people will keep their heads. Some more headstrong townsfolk and travelers grabbed weapons. The skill of these men and women were questionable, as was their resolve. High above the town Moonwing acted with a cold and calculated rage. She had approached the town at tremendous speed. Her words were truth, but she also knew they would cause a panic.

Moonwing had approached the town with the sun at her back. Even the superior vision of the elves would have a hard time seeing her as the mirror-like scales adorning her body melded with the sun behind her. It was however the panic that served best to cloak her advance. Within moments of descending she was upon the town.

The dragon’s wings unfurled, catching and pulling her out of the nose dive just before crashing into the town. The force of the change in direction was effortless for the giant creature, yet the shockwave of air sent those in a hundred metre radius tumbling along the street. The dragon flew above the street, her giant jaw opened as flickers of light emanating from deep in her gullet.

Screams of panic have a particular sound to them. They are rushed, without rhyme or reason. The screams that came from the street as the blue flames washed over everything were completely different. They were loud, full of pain and above all; final. The air was instantly tinged with the scent of charred wood and flesh. The flames only lasted a few seconds after being released, but that was enough time for the intense heat to destroy everything it touched. The stones were blackened and charred bodies were trapped in the position they had been when engulfed in flames.

Moonwing twisted in the air as she circled around and landed on the church in the centre of town. The building was large, three stories high and just as wide. Moonwing was nearly the same size and the building struggled to hold her weight. A large clawed hand gripped the spire as she balanced precariously on the roof as parts cracked and fell inwards.

I smell my Sonne here! Who has taken from him?!

Another telepathic scream echoed through the town as the mother realised that there were stolen parts of her son nearby. Her large head, etched with centuries of lines twisted through the air. Her giant snout sniffed, trying to locate the tiny fragments of her child.

[Storm Veritas]

Storm Veritas had adventured more and been in more wars that most that remained upright upon Althanas, but forced telepathy was a first for him, and it rattled him quite a bit. When the thoughts of the enormous dragon invaded his head, he nearly fell from his horse, grabbing instinctively at his skull to futilely attempt to draw out the alien ideas.

How did that big scaly bitch do that? And what now? Can she hear what I’m thinking?

Jumping down, his first thoughts were for those he cared of, even if their preservation were in his best interest. Karuka was likely stronger than he was, but that didn’t stop a worried glance from checking to ensure she was alright. There was a look upon her that she had certainly received the message as well. He slapped Attila upon his great ebony haunch, a short command that was unmistakable.

“Git, boy! Go!”

The thunder-hooves rattled away as Attila bolted off to safety. The horse would have proven useful in this fight, but would also be a liability when the time came to hide. The wizard expected this time was soon but was unsure of just how quickly Moonwing would make her presence felt. Storm had never seen a dragon as powerful as Sunwing before he helped kill the great beast, but the fire that scorched the building and road before him now was of another world. The air reeked of burned wood, cobbled-stone streets melted to an orange, magmic slurry, and the people…

We’re all f*cked.

To see people die so quickly, so definitively… it was shaking. The citizens flash-charred into standing pyres of fused ash. His mind raced to the smell of burning flesh on Salvar, but there was no such odor here. Here, the burn was too fast, the flesh excoriated too rapidly. This was better… and much worse. People were instantly converted to soot-borne memories, which certainly justified the pandemonium all around him.

Only those few that had come to fight would not run, so the considerable Veritas wagered that anyone not running had become an ally. There weren’t many. The most important one was a certain tanned redhead, and she was within earshot when the behemoth Moonwing crashed upon the church, buckling stones and splintering mortar from its vestige in a shower of stones and sand.

Storm was less than a block from the old church when it was compressed by the landing dragon. His instinct was to freeze; this dragon was a predator that would pick up motion without effort. To run closer was suicide, but with Moonwing’s power of those tunnels of fiery breath, running further was a fool’s errand. Cover and distractions would be his two primary salvations here, and he could only rely on the first on his own accord. He’d do his best to get the horrible thing’s attention, and allow others to attack. Backing his way into the mouth of an alley that could provide cover, he gazed up at the awful thing. His legs rattled as nerves jittered his fingertips. Steeling himself with a deep breath, Storm feigned strength in a moment where he had never felt more weak.

“I took down Sunwing, you miserable old bitch! His meat was tough and gamey, but his horn put a floor on my house. Let me return the favor, you miserable old twat!”

Without a word, Storm fired a mighty blast of arcing, blue-white electricity spiraling at the chest of the perched demon. He thought – perhaps hoped – that with it’s great size the reaction and speed would be reduced. If he was right, the blast was strong enough to stun and stagger the terrible beast.

And if I’m wrong, we’re all f*cked either way.

[Ioder]

The seraphim watched as a misty energy started to swell around him. This was not unfamiliar to him. Yet never before had this happened on such a large scale. It started out as a small trickel. First it was the pastor of the church cracking his head on the stone floor. His soul tasted like that of a nobel man buried in secrets and renovations. Then they came In like a torrent, one after another the souls of the fallen came to the Soul Broker. It was glorious feeling each soul join him in his nebula. He had never felt such a surge of energy before.

He gritted his teeth as Moonwing spat her azure flames down on the ground below. He hadn't seen it coming and the quick jolts of telepathic energy was purely a distraction on her behalf. Smart girl. With all the strength he could muster he dive back into the stone arches of the large church. A spiral of raging flames fallowed him in scorching his coat tails. Quickly he through off his cloak and released his white-gold wings.

He looked around catching the scared stairs of a few cowering towns folk. There we're some soft whispers among themselves either about the dragon who perched itself on the spire of the church, or he himself. But it didn't matter, nothing this trivial nonsense mattered. These people we're going to die soon.

"What are you staring at!" He yelled annoyed at the civilians. "Or should I just draw his attention inside?" He had no real intention to directly hurt these people but now he cared not for the world of humanity. For all he cared this dragon could kill every last one of them. He turned to face the charred door with intugue corseing though his blood yet still he couldn't stand strong with the frightful pressance looming just above him.

Inside the ceiling had begun to fall and Ioder knew it would not hold up for long. He didn't bother to tell the others as the quickly retreated father into the church. Instead he needed to make his move, he needed to communicate to the beast. With his new found power he manifested a copy of himself and sent it flying out of the doorway.

His vestige banked upward quickly just a burest of blue light long came soaring towards the dragon. This was his only chance to gain any favor with the beast. His vestage turned to embrace the strike of lightning and was instantly turned to dust yet the lightning was swelled with it.

Fear not Mi'Lady, I am not one of these retchid beings. I offer my aid to the and in turn wish to consume their awful soul. Allow me to fend off what I can and in turn allow me my harvest. Ioder communicated telepathicly to the beast as she did to him. Ioder didn't know for sure if the monster could hear him or if she would allow him to play his game. Regardless of her response, if any, he would dance this dance.

[Revenant]

Finally, William exulted. There was rawness in his chest at the sight of the shimmering beast. An empty, aching need existed there which only Moonwing could fill. And oh how she filled it. William watched, entranced, by the way that the dragon’s distended jaws poured forth a torrent of desolating flame. Roaring azure poetry caught the edges of Moonwing’s mirrored scales and lit to dancing on them. It was a ballet of sweet, sudden release for the town of Jormungstadt, and yet it was a performance for William’s eyes alone. It was a kindred spirit’s caress. A lover’s gentle embrace.

“Please,” a sudden cry and grasping hands tore William from his hypnotic reverie. Chaos reigned all around the revenant. Dust, smoke, and screams wrestled through the air, each fighting against one another to catch the more notice from the panicked bystanders. Horror and death poured out of the church and from the surrounding streets. Hundreds of humans, elves, and others of various races clawed to get away from the doom which alit on the stones above them. And in the center of it all, standing impassively in the wash of the flood, stood William Arcus.

“Sweet Thaynes above, please,” cried the woman who had shaken William loose from his dream. “My children, they’re …”

William spat a vicious, gutteral snarl at the woman and brushed her aside. The strength of his inhuman body sent the back of his hand into her chest like the shot from an Aleraran cannon. He felt a wet, crumpling pop as the woman hurtled into the crowd to knock half a dozen others under the trampling horde. A handful of fleeing bystanders stopped long enough to gape at William’s handiwork, but they too were swarmed by the mob pressure building up behind them. No one stopped to help the fallen.

Another psychic scream roared from overhead as Moonwing cried out for its child’s killer. William turned back to the dragon, hoping to regain the connection that he’d felt to the raw primal power she exuded. But it was gone. It had been lost to those clinging hands. It had been lost to pleading cowardice. Now, all that was left in William was the empty yearning which Moonwing had excited within him. All that was left was the hunger.

Sudden rage, furious and hot, burst from the depths of William’s core. A tidal surge of molten force which shot through him, charring and tearing William’s body as the revenant’s war form assumed the mantle of flesh. Power, swelling with demonic strength, coursed through every fiber of William’s being. New screams of terror and panic rang out as the Jormungstadt survivors saw William’s flesh blacken to broken cinders and felt the intense heat rolling off him in waves. It appeared as if this lone man was the target of another of the dragon’s fiery attacks and the area around him cleared in a heartbeat. And in their haste the people of Jormungstadt churned the mud and offal filling the streets into muddy, careless slurry. But the death and violence here paled in comparison to what now held William affixed.

Moonwing.

He loved her in that moment. More than anything he had ever loved in his twisted, pathetic life. And he wanted nothing more than to share that love with her. He wanted nothing more than to take her return of it in force and in blood.

He would gorge himself on that love.

He would fill the hungering void in his soul with it.

William reached into his power, wrapped his molten heat around him, gripped the haft of his deadly weapon, and rose in flight to meet his love.

[Karuka]

Moonwing was beautiful, Karuka had to admit through the agony of the dragon's thoughts ramming their way into her skull. She was graceful in flight and gleaming in the hazy Alerian sun. She was a force of nature, the harbinger of death and destruction, the embodiment of maternal wrath in its full fruition.

If she'd jus' come t' take th' men who killed her child, I doubt I'd've blamed her. Even though one of those who took down Sunwing was dear to her, Karuka could empathize with the dragon's rage. If someone killed Taische, she would sunder the realms to have her vengeance. But she would only revenge herself upon the responsible parties. Their lovers, their children, their families - the innocents that surrounded them - how could she justify so much cruel violence?

People can justify anything. Same with dragons.*

The redhead stood in the shadow of a scorched building, watching the pandemonium. Anyone caught in the dragon's breath was instantly, mercifully dead. Those caught on the outermost reaches of the flames, however, laid strewn in the streets, masses of screaming boils and blisters. Worse than the sound was the smell; the rancid reek of burnt hair mixed with the sickening, bloody smell of charred flesh. Men, women, children. Innocent. Guilty. Moonwing didn't care.

A young man with sandy brown hair rushed past her, carrying a scythe. Karuka grabbed his arm with a golden hand, giving him a stern look. The boy couldn't have been older than twenty-one or twenty-two; he'd never seen a dragon before, much less knew how to fight one. He was just desperate. "There's no sense in y' dyin' here. Getcher fam'ly. Run. An' pray us other fools live long enough t' keep you an' yers safe."

"But-!"

"GO!" She shoved the young farmer back, more with her will than her words. If he had a wife and a baby running or hiding, he was probably only out to buy them one more moment, if he could. But if he couldn't even face a human hero, he had no business facing a dragon, and he knew it.

D' y' see, Storm, what y've done? Karuka shook herself. Her lover had to have a plan with provoking the dragon - or an idea of an end result and no idea how to get there - and it was her job to work with it.

He's distractin' her. Karuka motioned to Taodoine, who launched himself while she jogged forward through the slag and the char, still searching for the well. She was dimly aware that something was wrong within the building on which the dragon perched, but there wasn't much she could do about it just at that moment.

Arrows whizzed through the air to plink nearly harmlessly from Moonwing's armored hide, and others - men and women with more courage than sense - converged upon the crumbled church. Karuka preferred staying closer to stone buildings rather than risk standing out in the open. Her child still needed her, and she had no intention of dying here and now. But for her attack to work, she had to get much closer than comfort allowed.

Where's th' damned...? Ah. It sat nestled against a large building in the square, which was why Karuka hadn't seen it sooner - a half-circular wall above a reservoir. She wished she'd found it before Storm had spoken up; what she was about to do would only enhance his power against the dragon.

Well, if he survives t' blast 'er again. I swear, if he gets crushed by this 'un, he'll not ever hear th' end of it from me.

The druid's hands cut through the smoky air, calling upon the water and amplifying her power over it. The well roared like a stormy sea when she launched her attack, and three tons of water burst forth from the ground, speeding for the enraged and grieving Moonwing.

Karu is using Lagu+Jara. It lets her manipulate up to 100 cubic feet of water within a 60 foot radius. That's 780 gallons, 6,505 pounds (2948 kg for our metric friends). And she's sending the lot at Moonwing.

[Hysteria]

Chaos ran through the streets. Attacks from mundane weapons bounced of the mirror-like scales without a moment’s notice. The only wound that struck the giant silver dragon was the words of a small human. They would have been little more than another arrow to bounce off her hide, if it was not for the scent of her child that hung so closely to his form. Moon wing felt that before she heard his words. The dragon’s giant head twisted towards the human, forsaking all others for the moment of vengeance.

The avatar that appeared in front of the lightning was a passing insect to the dragon. She sent a telepathic bump back down the line Ioder had opened without a second thought. The avatar he had created burst completely apart, leaving Ioder to take the brunt of her backlash. It would have been more sizable, enough to kill the angel-like demon, if not for the lightning.

The bolt struck Moonwing’s scales with a burst of light. The energy seemed to move from one scale to another, shifting and sparking with each jump. If the giant reptile could smile, then that would have been the expression on her face. Instead she flashed a half open jaw with rows of ivory white teeth towards Storm. Sparks brewed deep in her mouth, a surge of new-found electricity fuelling her attack.

Things would have ended there for Storm had it not been for his lover’s intervention. The tide of water that reached up and struck Moonwing caused her loose her precarious footing. Her face twisted from Storm as a beam of lighting burst from her jaw. It was unlike anything seen on Althanas in a long time. The first building struck was torn apart in an instant, with the next six following suit. The attack cut a swath through the town as building after building disappeared under the force of the lightning. Every soul, every creature was destroyed and only a blackened cone of torn earth remained. Without realising it, Moonwing had claimed the first scalp of those that had taken her Sonne from her as the giant John was incinerated.

Moonwing struggled upon the crumbling building as the combined weight of her and the water quickly eroded the remaining strength of the structure. With her perch at risk of collapsing, Moonwing’s wing lifted into the air and she made to take to the sky again.

John is out!

[Storm Veritas]

If he had been honest with himself, the well-traveled mage never expected his cursory blast to kill the mighty dragon. Yes, the same bolt was wildly effective against her progeny, but this beast was clearly of a larger, more robust sort. Certainly he didn’t foresee a single bolt bringing her down, but thought he’d help the cause.

He had thought wrong.

The terrible dragon had absorbed and returned volley one thousand fold, skimming the tops off of a row of buildings like a scythe cutting effortlessly through honey-grass. Colossal heaps of tarred roof, stone and mortar crashed thunderously to the ground about him, forcing him to scatter closer to the town marketplace, which was more open and exposed. Had the assault centered on him, Storm would have had absolutely no chance to move or escape; the attack was so monumentally powerful and broad reaching that there was zero hope.

Sadly, he watched as the giant, strapping soldier was burned as one of the townsfolk. His heroic deeds had carried no equity in this battle; he was near-instantly charred to unrecognizable.

Could just as easily have been you. Next time it –will- be you, if you don’t get your ass to cover, and fast.

The roar of cracking stone, screaming death, and howling beast were absurd, a punch in the ears of any who dared stay within the town limits. The magician felt his knees buckle as his nerves overwhelmed him. They were over their heads. They were going to die. His mind raced as he wrestled with panic, planning in desperation against impossible odds.

Lie to yourself. The fear is bullshit; use it as fuel. Be sharp, be fast, be alive. Piss your pants later, you god-damned pussy.

The villain breathed deeply once more, steadying himself to take action. Terror loosened its stranglehold on his legs for a few seconds. As the lumbering dragon pressed those mammoth wings down, almost clumsily taking to the air, Storm darted three steps before leaping headfirst beneath a large, oaken apple cart. He skidded underneath, feeling the skin scrape and scratch from his palms and knees as his leathers did little to pad the rapid halt. The clearance was tight, but sufficient, and the odor of festered fruit was the last thing on his mind. From here, he’d be out of the sight line of Moonwing, and he was hidden in what seemed to be a low-priority attack area.

He made room behind him, hoping his magnificent lover would find cover as well. Perhaps it was best they find separate spots to keep themselves from both dying, but he wouldn’t prevent her from joining. His eyes scanned about the courtyard, peeking low from his belly at other carefully arranged carts, when he spied the blacksmith’s cart some forty feet away. Abandoned in the bedlam was a pile of swords, spears, and arrows. All of them were made of a very convenient blend of irons and steels.

Jackpot. Looks like someone’s luck was on the uptick.

Without moving more than his fingertips, Storm channeled his electromagnetic field in a line towards the pile. A heavy sword broke free, shaking and clattering as it settled on the ground. From this distance he had poor control, but managed to raise the sword, which danced through the air as though held by some phantom soldier. Peering up at the heavens above from the shadows of his cart, he spied the great abomination above.

Come on, baby. One time. One time.

He flicked his fingers once more to send the blade hurtling end over end towards the dragon. In all probability, it would sail harmlessly by in a futile arc, but fortunately for the hidden wizard, there were plenty more where that came from.

[Karuka]

No y' don't get t' fly. Yer still all wet.

Maintaining so much water took most of Karuka's concentration, but she still drew a small knife and slashed it across the back of her right hand, letting drops of blood spill onto the ground. She had no idea what Storm was doing or where he was, but he hadn't been running in the direction the dragon had fired, so he was probably still alive. Fortunately for her, the massive lightning bolt the dragon had unleashed had also been well away from her direction, but so many buildings wrecked... so many lives just gone. Panicked and pained screaming roiled through the air from the lightning-shattered quarter, confirming the clairvoyant's worst fears.

Focus. Th' faster y' take 'er down, th' fewer lives lost.

"REIDH!" High above, an avian screech answered; Taodoine was ready. Karuka's left hand slashed hard to the side, clenching into a fist, making the water coalesce onto one of the mirror dragon's massive wings and bear down with crushing force. The choice between trying to freeze Moonwing's maw shut and trying to keep her out of the air wasn't an easy one, but the redhead felt that they'd be in more trouble if they gave the dragon freedom of motion than if they gave her freedom of breath.

"SUILE!" Karuka didn't have to look up to know what her familiar was doing. The dragon only had one vulnerable spot, and she hadn't had to tell him where to aim to send him plummeting for it. Her bleeding hand slammed down hard, creating a straight red line in the air. Frigid water turned instantly to a thick layer of slush the entrapped wing, and that froze harder when she sealed it with the same interlocking rune she'd used to boost her command over the water. Regretfully, she had to let the unused water cascade into the crumbled church, but there was just too much to focus on.

Like the bolt of red and orange that had folded its wings on its way to the dragon's eye.

"TAO!" The phoenix exploded into fire as he neared his target, spreading his mighty wings and extending the dagger-sharp talons he grew from each toe. He strafed her once, then extinguished himself as he soared back up.

Karuka didn't wait to see what the dragon would do; she needed another position and she needed it now. With all the speed available to her, she ducked into an alley, leaping over crates, carts, and cowards in her mad dash for a better vantage. "Get out of town, y' fools!"

Hopefully, they'd listen, because the redhead didn't think the buildings around them would be safe for much longer.

[Revenant]

A parent’s love was a powerful thing. Wars have been waged over it, empires toppled because of it. William’s own destructive path had been forged from the smoldering ashes of a wooden crib. But as powerful as a parent’s love was it could also be blinding.

Moonwing should have noticed William. She should have seen him fly up as she drew in the energies for her attack. She should have swatted him aside just as she had swatted the angelic thing from beside her. But she hadn’t. Her preoccupation with revenge had all but rendered the demonic warrior invisible to the dragon. It had given him enough time to study her and the chance to get close. Moonwing had let her love cloud her vision, and it had been a mistake.

William dropped to the far edge of the church roof, behind where Moonwing had fallen when the water stuck her. Stone popped and cracked as the revenant’s clawed feet latch onto the roof tiles enough to keep the blast wave from Moonwing’s attack from knocking how back off the church. He kept the line of his cloak held in front of him to ward off the lightning’s brightness and to shield him from the sharp flecks of rock pelted him. But more importantly William kept his eyes locked on his love.

It was clear that there were other fighters in Jormungstadt. People that had either been lured in as William had by the siren song of destruction, or else were bravely, and futilely, defending their homes. These fighters fought as if Moonwing were some normal beast to be dragged down and culled, hurling their ineffectual fusillade of spells and arrows at the dragon’s mirrored hide.

As if they can kill my love, William thought, taking a step towards Moonwing’s rising form. They can’t see her. Not the way I do.

Molten eyes bored into the great dragon, delving through mirrored scales to the very core of the beast. William could see the inky black webs of time and decay that festered within her. He’d watched Moonwing since her arrival, had studied the breadth and depth of her. He could see her truth more intimately than any lover could. Moonwing was a being of incredible power but she was ancient. Time had left the same marks on her that it did on all things. William’s destructive enlightenment guided him to those marks. It showed him how to hurt her.

Moonwing roared and spread her wings wide, forcing William to dig his claws deeper into the cracking stones for purchase. A flood of water cascaded from her flanks as she did so, but the broken church drank the worst of it. He had little time now.

Another attack came from below, attempting to freeze the dragon’s far wing. And another came from above as a fiery bolt shot from the sky at Moonwing’s face. This was it, the best distraction William was going to get. He couldn’t allow the dragon to get out of reach, couldn’t allow her to escape. If he was to wound her, if he was to take her, it had to be here and now.

William gathered his power and leaped from his perch of collapsing stone. The force he’d put into the leap crumbed the roof where he’d been standing, causing the shattered stones to slide in on themselves, but William was beyond caring. He coaxed more power from within as he flew towards Moonwing, forcing his energies to the breaking point. Sickly green light blazed from the blade of the revenant’s warscythe as he hauled it back for the attack. He’d willed the weapon to release its strongest power, making the razor edge nearly infinitely sharp for a single strike. And thanks to his destructive enlightenment, William knew just where to strike to be most effective.

Rising up behind the dragon William swung the wicked blade with the full force of his inhuman strength in a flashing arc towards the base of her spine and immediately followed it up by releasing his pent up energy in a magma explosion. William then fell, letting his leap and gravity carry him away from the collapsing church and away from his love.

[Ioder]

His attempts in communicating with the beast was mute, instead a crippling pulse of telepathic energy hit him. With the building starting to crumble around him Ioder was forced to a knee by Moonwing's attack. A bead of sweat fell from his brow as he tried to reavaluate the situation. It would seem that she was too enraged to cooperate with him willingly. As the rafters started to split and fall from her weight a loud torrent came pressing against the stained glass window.

Ioder had not a second to spare stretching his wings out wide. The beautiful mural splintered and cracked under the torrents force. Water and glass spewed forth washing and slamming him against wall behind the alter. He let out a grunt as the force knocked the wind out of him, the weight of the water kept him pinned in place. His armor crack with each piece of debris that struck him.

With all that he could muster he reached up grasping at anything he could. Finaly he found salvation in the form of a torn tapestry dangeling just over head. He clenched it with all he had until the torrent subsided enough for him to pull himself out of the water. Then with a mighty flap of his wings he was airborn soaring out of the broken window frame.

With great swiftness the angelic being banked upward towards the roof. He couldn't waist any time, he needed to be quick. As he soared above the edge of the crumbling rooftop he saw the might dragon flooded and laying on her side. Attacks from the fighters below flew upward towards the dragon and Ioder knew his plan would prove futile. Instead he drew Alessia from her sheath, he needed to aid the fighters efforts.

Now with caution thrown into the wind Ioder released a huge cloud of his nebula trailing behind him. Then tucking his wings he dove down with his enchanted blade aimed towards the beast neck just below the back of her skull. His blade was more than sharp enough to spear through her rough hide and his nebula would provide a more than adiquit defence to any attack that might fly his way. Simultaneously Ioder's mist like energy shared the same reflective porerties as the scales of Moonwing bouncing* the sun's rays around him.

It mattered not if this beast was slain here today. She had already delivered to him the souls of many who have passed from her rampage. And the same rules would apply to the beast herself, and that would be a soul her could retire on. That would be the life. he though as he plunged into the face of oblivian.

[Hysteria]

The sword of Storm bounced off the hide of the dragon mother like so many arrows before it. The silver scales were almost impervious to direct assault like that, save for the soft scales under her arms and neck, all of which she kept pressed to the crumbling church. It was the ice that enveloped one of her wings that was the cause of concern. The giant reptile tried in vain to take to the sky, instead she flapped her frozen wing in long, lame strokes. With each movement the dragon’s scales turned bluer and bluer, until she was the colour of the sea.

The phoenix that came from above would have been enough to blind the beast, if not for the sudden cold that filled the air. The wind that lifted up around the dragon was stronger than even the coldest Berevar night. The bird’s fire dwindled, but didn’t completely extinguish until it struck. Moonwing reared back, the tiny fire bird lifting back into the sky while it’s target was unable to respond. The air grew colder still as ice spread along evert surface within ear shot of Moonwing.

The dragon didn’t have time to respond as the fire demon struck. Instinct caused ice to burst along her back, taking some of the initial attack while scales were dislodged across her back from the rest. The second attack struck with fiery abandon, sending large chunks of the dragon’s shoulder into the air. Moonwing roared in anger and frustration, her steely blue eyes swivelling in her head as she struggled to face the attacks from all directions.

The only thing to do was thin the field. The dragon curled her wings back across her back as cold poured from her being. Blasts of air rippled outwards, catching the angel-like attacker before he could land his blow. It was probably a twist of luck, as the crumbling church was flash frozen under the sudden pulse of cold. In the sky Taodoine’s body became encumbered with ice, causing the bird to fall from the sky. All around buildings, bodies and rubble froze. Even the air became filled with twisting torrents of frost, easily enough to freeze all but the hottest fire. It would have been foolish for any to try fly while Moonwing was surrounded by such frost.

Now with her footing supported by ice she no longer had to keep her balance. She let her breath flow, fuelling the air with cold enough to freeze the fires of hell. Any exposed would surely freeze on the spot.

[Revenant]

William pulled out of his fall a dozen feet above Jormungstadt’s ruined market. Smoldering ash reached up inside his swirling wake as he did so, only to be pounded back by the rain of flesh and blood following in the Revenant’s wake. He’d hurt Moonwing. She didn’t show much of a reaction to his attack, but William could see the vicious gaping wound in her shoulder. How long had it been since the dragon matron had felt true pain, he wondered. Her petty vengeance had been ferocious, how much more ferocious would she be when it was her own life threatened rather than that of her child? William resisted the urge to grin. How much of that ferocity would be directed at the one who’d hurt her?

He didn’t have to wait long for his answer. Her instantaneous, icy reaction and super-dense scales had protected Moonwing’s spine from his blade and it had also produced a wave of cold which had caught up to the falling demon and into him like a physical wall. Resisting the cold without thinking, William released the focus necessary to maintain his flight so that his molten core could flare back to life. With nothing left to support him, William fell the last dozen feel to the ground and hit hard. Something in his chest wrenched hard, but a sharp inhale from overhead told him that he had no time to waste nursing it.

Moving inhumanly fast, William sprang to his feet. Above him, Moonwing’s extended jaws opened wide and loosed a stream of absolute zero. Spurred by the urgency, William plowed through the devastated wall of the church in front of him. Though the revenant’s strength was legendary, and though the wall was cracked, it was still mass of stone and it took its toll. The dull ache in his chest turned into a stabbing pain as William burst into the chapel, but it was far from the worst pain he’d ever felt and he was able to shrug the sensation to the back of his mind. If his restorative capabilities hadn’t healed the injury by the time he killed Moonwing, he could worry about it then. For now, he had more pressing matters.

As if to accentuate the thought, Moonwing’s absolute zero blast struck down at his heels. William didn’t pause, couldn’t pause, as tumbled through the broken wall and scrambled further into the church’s frozen, crumbling interior. But though he couldn’t pause, he could shudder. So he did that.

William’s molten core protected him as much from cold as it did from heat, but even the edge of the blast had been enough to remind him of being half-naked and waist deep in the Berevar wilderness. If he’d been a mortal, or had been just a moment slower, William knew that he’d be nothing more than a rock-solid chunk of frozen meat at the moment. As it was, he was a little frost-burned around the edges. The irony didn’t escape him. Moonwing, it appeared, gave just as good as she got and rather than frighten him, the notion made the revenant even more excited. She was truly worthy of the former monster hunter’s respect.

Moonwing’s attack swept away from where he’d been to terrorize another portion of Jormungstadt. Satisfied that the chapel was going to shield him, at least temporarily, William navigated the rubble and the ice to stand beside the frozen corpse of Jormungstadt’s former pastor. After all it had been through, the chapel looked a hair’s breadth from collapsing in on itself. Only the shimmering crystalline mass of the ice had given it a moment’s reprieve. William could hear weak, panicked voices echoing from multiple areas of the chapel, innocents who hadn’t managed to get out and had been trapped or had fled upstairs when the attack started. They were crying for help, for a savior. William ignored them.

A cursory examination of the chapel’s interior revealed what William had expected. Jomil’s curse revealed the weaknesses in the chapel’s architecture to William as it had with Moonwing, easier even as the chapel wasn’t a living, shifting being. Water had seeped into the cracks of the broken chapel as it drained from the roof and had expanded as it froze. While the ice had kept the building aloft for the time being, it had also torn the stones of the building even farther apart. And even the ice bracing was tenuous without a constant freezing steam. All one would have to do to drop the chapel like a stone down a well would be to strike at the right place. William could do that.

It only took a moment for the demonic warrior to find what he was looking for and then, smiling to himself, he leapt back into motion. There was not time to waste. He didn’t know how long Moonwing’s cold attack was going to last, and he didn’t want to give the dragon time to shift and adapt again. Though there were many points of failure in the architecture of the ruined building, William’s cursed sight was able to identify the central support which was the focal point for the weight of the building’s upper floor. Knowing what he needed to do, William hacked at the back wall of the church with his warscythe quickly carving enough of a chunk out of the stone that he could burst through without causing further damage to himself, but while still adding further weakness to the structure.

Then, just as he barreled through yet another wall, William turned and summoned another bolt of liquid fire from his molten core. He was dangerously close to exhausting the power of his demonic form for what would likely be the rest of the fight, but Moonwing’s shoulder had been decently wounded and her wings chilled. If he had any chance to trap her into the collapsing church, this was it. William didn’t care if there were still innocents sheltering inside, he didn’t care if the collapse caused more collateral damage to the few remaining areas around it that Moonwing hadn’t devastated. All he could think about was soaking his claws and his blade in dragon blood.

With an errant flick of the wrist, William sent the magma shot sailing to detonate against the chapel’s main support.

[Storm Veritas]

If Storm had been hoping that somehow his remote-controlled sword would penetrate the scales of the beast through some divine intervention, he had bet on the wrong Gods. The blade bounced harmlessly off of Moonwing’s haunch with a “pang” sound, as though someone lazily rang a broken bell. Fortunately for the lightning mage, the others in combat had been more successful. The ice-laden wing dragged the mighty dragon down, keeping it from flight as she perched upon the old cathedral. Without any shred of mercy, the terrible dragon blasted a mighty gale of ice wind out about the city.

It was a nightmare; to move from hot to cold without precedent. Everything the ice hit seemed to instantly pop and explode, the water-laden air flash freezing and expanding the pores of anything sitting, standing, or existing. From his safe haven under the apple cart, Veritas heard the rapid creaks and bangs of shattered wood and screeching yells of yielding metal.

You can’t hide down here forever. Once this big bitch destroys the city, she’ll be thirsty for blood. Dry up this puddle of piss and DO SOMETHING.

The cathedral itself was the obvious target; the ice had held the mighty building in place, but it was a makeshift fix, like chewing gum in a dam’s hole. Storm breathed deeply, inhaling the rich and dry mountain air. His body was healthy, his powers were strong. Now was the time to act.

Quickly, he used his magnetic field manipulation to summon a heavy iron axe to his side. The weapon flew dutifully into his hand as he leapt gracefully to a large iron drain grate at the bottom of the crowned cobblestone street. It was an escape route and a bit of madness wrapped in one. He looked up to the enormous beast, which was less than eighty feet away; a perilously close distance.

Keep your mouth shut for now. Just work.

He pumped a mighty bolt of blue-white lightning at the bottom of the debilitated building. From his periphery, he noticed a large channel of flame heading towards the same building; clearly someone else had shared his strategy. There was no time to quibble over what shot would sound the death knell for the old church; if the behemoth did topple, she’d lash out at whomever was closest to her. Storm Veritas was intent to ensure that he wasn’t that option.

Almost instantaneously, he turned attention to his feet, using the heavy metal weapon and newfound footing as sources of energy focus. A massive magnetic pulse was thrust forth to the ground, repelling the axe he gripped with near seismic force. He held on for dear life as he was propelled nearly forty feet in the air, tumbling backwards feet over head as he sailed and searched for a spot to land.

He should have planned where he could target landing more strategically, but at least his mighty electric explosion should cripple the edifice his horrific opponent had perched upon.

[Ioder]

This was not the first time Ioder was sent plummeting downward mid attack and it would certainly not be the last. Actually he had become more of an artisian of the craft making sure to tuck his wings in tight. It appeared his attack never even made contact with the scales of the beast, she was a cunning bitch after all. He had only a second to twist his arms wrapping his nebula around himself like a cacoon.

He spiraled downward like a drill barreling towards a warehouse across the marketplace from the cathedral. With a loud crash Ioder was sent flying through the scroched wall of the warehouse. He flew through stacks and stacks of wooden crates before cratoring against the opposite wall. The stone of the wall started to crumble and fall as he hung suspended in place.

His shield was mighty and with it's maluable nature he could shape it to any form. Yet it did have it's drawbacks, requiring cumbersome amounts of concentration and stamina. And with the shock wave from Moonwing's icy attack these two things are fleeting him. He would have to end this soon less this be the end of him.

He chose to be still, though it's wasn't a hard choice to make. His shoulder felt numb, guess everything was taking it's toll. He didn't feel it when it happened but it was damaged despite his defences. This simple fact enraged him. Inside he began to fester in anger as his eyes began to glow. They began to radiation with a white-gold light the color of his mist like energy.

"Insipid poisen that plagues this land, though you grant me the power I seek you may not be allowed to run wild. I shall be the conduit through which you seek and fulfill your vengeance." He yelled allowed as he jerked himself off the wall and onto his feet. His shirt had fallen from him tattered and destroyed by his crach landing. Alessia lay on the floor fust feet from the Seraphim, who spared no time retrieving it. "But today you die." He said as he pointed his free hand at the opening he landed through and sending forth a swift wave of nebula from his palm.

His mist like cosmic energy flew in jaged motion towards the beasts' maw. Aimed to constrict her jaw with a crushing force for a time allowing all the other's attacks to have a stronger chance of hitting. I dare not allow this to continue less mine own life be in jeopardy. he thought to himself as his nebula fallowed his eyes like a lazor tracker missile.

[Karuka]

Taodoine panicked and struggled when the ice encased him on his near-vertical ascent. His wings and tail grew heavy, despite his desperate flapping and clawing, and he started tumbling from the air - straight back toward the dragon. Wherever his master was, she wasn't giving him direction. But he was an autonomous being, capable of fighting for his own life when it came down to it. And he was a bird famed for fire; he was not so easy to flash-freeze.

Down, down, down he tumbled, through the smog, over the wrecked buildings, over the thick sheet of ice, over the rubble and the rabble. When he was only a few dozen feet away from Moonwing, he burst again, more powerfully than before. The ice surrounding his body weakened when the fire hit it, then shattered when he flapped, sending shards bursting in every direction. His wings ached with the cold, and they only hurt more from the sudden heat that shrouded him. But he wasn't done yet.

The ball of fire turned again, getting his mighty wings above him and his vicious talons beneath him. While the men ripped through Moonwing's perch, he turned on the dragon once more, dive bombing the enraged reptile's other eye. He wanted to gouge it out and blind her, to take advantage of her weak spot. After he strafed her, he wheeled and fled. He was an intelligent bird, and he knew he didn't want to keep tangling with this dragon who changed her attacks so rapidly.

Not far away, Karuka crested a building and scanned the carnage through the cold fog that billowed forth with every breath. In a technical sense, she'd been successful; the dragon couldn't fly. In a real sense, she'd made things a whole lot worse. Even if they managed to take down Moonwing, Jormungstadt might be better off abandoned.

She bit her lip. What could she do to keep the dragon's attention off of the innocent townsfolk? Well, other than feed Storm to her. Speaking of, she caught sight of him from the corner of her eye, flying up into the air and making himself visible. Ever th' survivor, that man.

Now she had to make a choice. There were survivors in the collapsing church, and they were probably doomed if the dragon went down on top of them. But there were more people who hadn't or couldn't fled the town, people who would be doomed if the dragon didn't die at the feet of the gods. I offer a prayer t' th' lost. An' another t' th' living.

Karuka's hand still throbbed and bled where she'd cut it, but she had neither time nor inclination to attend to her minor wound when there was still an urgent threat. She could feel a cistern beneath the church, and she'd only just begun using magic. With focus, with effort, with a few quick, deliberate gestures, she called upon the water again.

It roared up through the fount and the floor in its tons and torrents, crashing through plaster and shingles to bombard the gleaming dragon from beneath and destroy her perch. It exploded into the air above her, then crashed back down on top of her in a relentless, brutal barrage. Surely the roof couldn't hold under any more abuse.

An' with any luck, we can fry 'er dead. I'm sorry, beautiful beast. But fer th' families y've sundered an' d'stroyed, fer th' mothers who grieve their sons an' daughters, fer th' orphans left b'hind in yer rage... Fer vengeance an' wrath taken too far. We can't let y' keep goin'.

[Artifex Felicis]

It was always too late when it comes to vengeance.

It was the conclusion that the cat had come to, when he had first heard the reports and open call for the dragon’s head. Several towns must have been trampled and routed already, the beast that had done so moving with a malevolent, cruel streak. It had avoided towns with easier roads to them, taking a circuitous round along the Twilight mountains. However, that also cut away all potential places for the citizens to run, herding citizens and prey towards Jormungstadt.

From there, the dragon could push towards the larger cities, driving men, women and children before it to spread panic from its terrible name.

Leon was impressed. It was far from the random attacks and it was something he respected. He had guessed the wrong town at first, thinking it was one of the larger ones at first. As the dragon descended upon the small Hamlet, even over a mile away the cat could hear its destruction, and its fury from the telepathic screams. The sudden flash of flame and power, obvious on the clear day, just intensified the need to move quickly.

So Leon ran.

There were few creatures on Althanas that could match the hunter’s striding legs, even laden down with weaponry and armor. He saw the rise of a Phoenix and the screaming masses trying to escape. People frozen from the dragon’s fel breath made him adjust his trajectory, twisting to go around the town and behind the dragon. As he got closer, his mind buzzed. The telepathic storm that was the dragon close to overwhelming even his second mind. He heard its words, its rage,, but the cat didn’t particularly care.

He skidded to a stop behind the dragon, adjusting his armaments. Spear that had slain one, admittedly small, dragon in hand, and sword in sheath. The two balls of yarn twitched, coiled and ready to burst out. He had hoped to find the dragon in a forest, but the buildings around him were jagged enough to latch onto with the deyln yarn. He swallowed, a wide grin appearing on his face, shwoing sharp and dangerous teeth.

He took in breath, then roared at the dragon, louder by far than its telepathic assault, or the sounds of battle. It echoed along the mountains, reaching for miles around Jormungstadt and rippling the air around the cat boy. Wouldn’t be fair not to tell the dragon he was there.

[Hysteria]

The assaults on Moonwing had started to take a toll. The dragon’s left shoulder had large chunks of flesh torn out and rich red blood leaked down over her silver scales and onto the church. Her other wing wasn’t faring much better, although it lacked any noticeable injury, it was encased in ice and relatively useless. The dragon’s right eye was ringed with burns and it’s normal white was an angry red.

A number of things happened in quick succession that caught the dragon off guard. The church below her suddenly shuddered and started to crumble. A further blast of electricity from Storm and the building and dragon fell to the ground. The spire, a handle for one of her claws cracked and the base and fell on the dragon’s frozen wing. She lifted her head to roar, but the sound was muffled as a golden haze wrapped itself around her maw. Coincidence shifted into luck, and perhaps into a miracle as the dragon found itself unable to stop the troublesome phoenix. There was a distinct hiss as the bird’s flames struck the dragon’s eye. The beast blinked and thrashed, catching and crushing one of the bird’s wings and sending it through the air in the direction of the airborne Storm.

The dragon was blinded in one eye and the other far from perfect. Through closed teeth the dragon attempted to roar. Her neck bulged and twisted as jets of water poured from between cracks forming in Ioder’s nebula. The water summoned by Karuka lifted up around Moonwing, but not how she had intended. The dragon’s magic mixed in as she absorbed the water, and replacing it with 100 times as much. A torrent quickly formed around the beast. In seconds ankle deep went to shoulders, then metres become dozens. The water twisted outwards, spreading in width just as fast as height. It took only a minute and dragon and half of Jormungstadt was encased in a dome of water. The twisting torrent had weakened as it grew, but within its waters contained the bodies of many of the town’s residents, and many more struggling to hold their breath. Anything not tied down was dragged up and into the swirling mass of water.

From inside the dome it was like another world. The deep blue turned everything azure. The dragon was at the centre, struggling against the binds that held her down. Her jerky movements and twisted head gave no doubt that she was struggling. Looking up from the shattered stones of the market place and the water was filled with debris. Bodies, previously charred, frozen or crushed bumped into market stalls. Worse still, townsfolk still alive struggled in the water. Children clung to parents and lovers to one another as the rest of their town was slowly destroyed. There was no mercy in the watery dome, only the constant pull of the vortex.

The mass of water would not last long, as all of Moonwing’s attacks has quickly passed after the initial explosion of magic. That didn’t matter for many as shock took away breath, and water took their lives. For those closest to Moonwing, William, Karuka and Ioder, the effects would be strongest. While those further away (or higher up) would have to deal with slower water.

Right at the centre of the gigantic dome, Moonwing tried to push herself out from under the spire. The water was melting the ice from her wing at an agonizingly slow pace, but every centimetre helped. For the second time, the dragon was on the defensive.

Water will start to subside during my next post. Everyone should be effected, most of the town is!

[Revenant]

It had worked, perhaps a little too well.

Jormungstadt’s church had fallen and Moonwing had fallen with it. William hadn’t counted on the speed with which it would fall, however. He’d had the foresight to escape the church before sending his magma shot at the building but hadn’t accounted for the rest of the furious energy Jormungstadt’s defenders directed at the building. Moments before the church had been the thriving center of Jormungstadt’s religious community. Now nothing but a thrashing mass of broken stone, lost souls, and one very angry dragon.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one to think of trapping the dragon that way, William thought as he forced himself up through the knee-high cascade of rubble that had poured away from the falling building. He’d been fast enough to escape the fall of the heaviest debris, but the smaller wave had been faster, had caught him up, knocked him off his feet, and buried him. Thick dust clouded the air in a choking haze, and William gave a wrenching cough as he shook the debris off him. A knife of agony tore through his side as he coughed and William looked down to see a thumb sized shard of rock sticking out of him. Angry at the annoyance, William gripped the rock and ripped it free with a snarl. He looked at the shard for a second, noting how his molten blood steamed in the chill air, then tossed the stone back into the rubble.

Being on the street outside the church hadn’t much safer than being inside of it, but luckily his thick cloak and leathery hide had stopped the worst of the damage. Bloodied and banged up as he was out here, it would be a delight to see what destruction that the collapsing church had caused to Moonwing, drawn down into the very center of it as she had been.

Grunting at the effort, William pulled himself fully out of the wreckage. He was spattered with molten blood from a dozen cuts and gashes, though only the spot where the shard had stabbed into him seemed to be of any significance. Not that he worried about the cuts and scrapes. His restorative capabilities would regenerate them in short order. Carapace on both arms and legs, hard as steel, sported several cracks, but though it stung greatly, that too would heal. The worst of it was the grating in his chest, which had only gotten worse. Everything else could be shunted to the back of William’s mind, but that pain was getting to the point where it was really beginning to irk him.

William mounted the rubble with a hobbling limp, eager to renew his assault on the dragon, only to find himself locked in the embrace of swiftly rising waters. Surprised by the sudden onrush, William abandoned his plans to attack and tried to summon his flight, but the tide rose even faster than his supernatural speeds were capable of combating. Struggling to escape, William managed one last panicked breath before the waters stole over him.

Everything around William exploded in furious motion. Chunks of rock from the fallen church were torn from their resting places to buffet him, seemingly from every direction. Tumbling end over end in the torrent, William quickly lost his sense of direction. At some point his warscythe had been torn from his grasp and lost to the abyss. Swirling heat surrounded him, normally to catch the wind and provide him with flight, but now serving only to spin him around and to offer a slight measure of protection from some of the smaller bits of debris. Something heavy slammed into William’s broken ribs and a scream tore the breath from his lungs. Blackness threatened to envelop him as he curled himself into a ball to shield his vitals as best he could with his steely bone coverings. All the demonic warrior could do was try to survive until the hellish cyclone ended.

William was in serious trouble.

[Ioder]

There wasn't a second to spare, almost instantly after the spire collapsed from the might of everyone's efforts water began to spew forth. Though this wasn't like before, now what seemed like an ocean opened up from the base of the cathedral. "Clever girl," the seraphim muttered as he turned to face the wall he previously cratered. Fueled by the souls of the fallen he unleashed three swift arced slashes from his blade. A large chunk of the postern wall fell severed from it's whole in a triangle shape just large enough for him to leap through.

He had no real plan to thwart the torrents as the came rageing through the streets. On either side of him water charged through the alley he emerged in. In the few seconds of calm he pressed his free hand to his chest forming a golden sphere around himself encasing just enough air to breath and remain boyant. And the very moment the waters met each other crashing on top on him the tip of his sphear sealed. Yet this didn't lessen the strength and force of the wave as it swept him off the ground slamming his protective dome every which way.

Ioder's golden life boat hit each wall with the force of a warhammer crack with each surface. This wasn't a permanent fix to the problem yet it served it's purpose allowing the Soul Broker to collect himself. Though the torrents we're strong the golden sphere did gradually float towards the top of the dome. It was evident that the beast was stuck on the defensive and struggling against the combined efforts of everyone's united power.

He stuggled to decide his corse of action. On one hand he was tempted to once more communicate with Moonwing with intent to aid her. And on the other her power was to great for him to qwell later if needed. Though he truely wanted to see this monster punish humanity he knew that would only lead to his own end by her hands. He was torn with one true path he could fallow, end the dragon.

From within he could feel his power start to swell despite his protective magic starting to chip away under the pressure of the ocean. He was completely submerged and to release his magic now would only haisten his end. Instead he pulled once more from the raging pool of energy he gathered and stood tall withing his shield. Alessia was quickly sheathed before Ioder raised his hands above his head. The few spirts of water slowly filling his bubble we're forced closed as Ioder pushed outward releasing his own torrent of energy. His nebula, a composition on natural angelic power fueled by souls of the lost, poured from his palms, feet, and mouth as he screamed.

This was it, the cap of his magic's ability. Slowly his protective cocoon began to expand before forming into a golden eagle. Its radiant light pierced the merky water as it's stayed in stasis hovering nearly a hundred feet above the ground. From the eagles beak a large concentrated beam of Ioder's nebula shot forth aimed to encase the dragons last remaining eye and imploring it with the force of a dehlar hammer.


In this post I used Alessia to cut through stone. She is enchanted to cleave through titanium with little effort. Also I used another angelic shield use along with an angelic wrath. The shapes of these abilities don't matter as they can form to whatever I like.

[Karuka]

In one moment, everything went from horrible to Helheim. Taodoine gave an ear-splitting shriek as he was flung, fighting hard to keep himself aloft, but he hit a building and went still. Everyone in the town, from those who hid to those who fought to those who ran, the cads, the cat, and everyone in between, all were under threat from the swelling surge. How could there be that much water beneath the earth? Could this dragon pull something from nothing?

Karuka didn't have time to consider the implications. All she knew was that there were people who should have run but didn't in the buildings behind her, and they needed her help. She couldn't hesitate, so she ran along the roof of the shop she'd climbed to get a better view of the dragon. The only thing she could think of doing was to try to redirect some of the water back to the center of town, where fewer people were threatened. If she could save some lives, any lives...

Gods, will it be enough?

She leapt when she came to the edge, landing on a pile of fast-moving rubbish that was getting jammed on its way down one of the cobblestone streets. There was someone else on the makeshift raft, but he'd probably been an early victim of the dragon's: he was still smoldering. She didn't have time to look at him, just crouching down on the bucking detritus and putting her hands in front of her. Blood gushed from the wound on the back of her hand, called forth in sacrifice to the magic she was casting. A shimmering shield spanned the gap from one building to the next, taller and stronger than any use of Eohl she'd ever cast before. If she could hold back some of the rising tide for just a moment...

The crumbling raft bucked in the brutal current, and the redhead ground her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, praying that her shield would hold and that she wasn't thrown into the drink. Karuka O'Sheean was a great many things... but for all of that, she didn't know how to swim.

I'm probably burning about 9-10 spell slots on this shield.

[Storm Veritas]

Sailing backwards away from the mighty dragon was very likely the most graceful maneuver Storm Veritas had configured in his lifetime. With the precision and deft of a master gymnast he tumbled backwards, sailing high off the electromagnetic pulse he had used to send his weapon (and with it, by no coincidence, himself) upward with such tremendous force that his eyes caught a rooftop wherein he’d land.

Holy shit, it worked! It actually w…

---CRACK---

From outside of his periphery, he was struck with the discarded phoenix like a dodgeball thrown in a child’s game. It knocked him off his trajectory, stopping his graceful roll, and sent him crashing to the top of a soaked slate roof. The rocky surface was hard and slick, and Storm helplessly slid down towards the gutter, his feet finding no purchase on the near frictionless surface. Eyes wide and heart pumping frenetically, the wizard tightened his grip on the axe. With a gentle push, he hooked the blade edge of the axe on a gutter as he fell off the roof, his axe digging hard into the oak and leaving him dangling some eight feet beneath the rooftop.

Outside of him, it was absolute madness. Families screamed and rushed in panicked frenzies as a giant wave of water had arrived. He wasn’t sure how or where it had come from, but the mighty orb of water rose so quickly that it actually carried him northward, allowing him to release his clench on the axe and swim with desperation to an adjacent roof. Plummeting to the spontaneously generated sea floor, his useful axe was gone.

He peered about, eyes searching for answers. Townspeople scrambled and yelled as dozens of them floated helplessly on the water’s surface. The notorious villain reached and hefted a woman and her children from one such would-be assortment of flotsam and death, raising them while receiving a breathless gratitude as the two young boys clung happily to the rooftop. There were so many more in the water, so many helpless townfolk he had all but assured the death of.

No way to help them now. You can’t fish them out of the water, there’s too many and that horrible thing will kill them AND you if you try. Screw it. The only way to help now is to kill that merciless whore.

In the midst of bedlam, Storm took inventory of the situation. The great dragon appeared wounded, temporarily downed, and never more dangerous in the center of the vortex she had created. The time to strike was at hand, while she thought she was attacking. Storm knew the lightning and magnetic abilities he had would be useless in direct attack; if he wanted to injure the great lizard he’d need to attack it. To attack it, he’d have to get behind it.

From the rooftop, a path around the great beast appeared obvious, as other buildings had their own roofs which looked like slippery stepping stones in twenty-foot intervals. He took four long strides before leaping and landing on the first building, knocking a few shingles down as he landed, and began running for the next rooftop. He would circle the awful bitch, and cut her throat himself if he could.

[Artifex Felicis]

The hunter only scowled as the dragon before him writhed and buckled under the assault of bird, bird and lightning. There was a small moment there, fleeting, where he felt small and insignificant. It passed, quickly replaced with annoyance at the big beast. He wasn’t used to being ignored, both from massive creatures to more mundane beings.

The sudden torrent of water and its rising maelstrom, however, quickly dashed this from his mind.

His strong body was already in a blur of motion as the first wave began to come down, makings its way tot he nearest building. Three steps, each leaving holes where his claws dug in up the sheer face of the wall and a leap brought him to the roof of the building. Shingles cracked and slipped out of place as he dashed along it on confident feet, leading across the gap to its neighboring building and further away from the oncoming rush.

His mind worked overtime, staring at the dragon as he climbed up as high as he could make it. The usual places were clearly vulnerable to claw and spear. Joints and eyes. Many of the others were covered in that brilliant, shining set of scales. An idle thought that the beautiful dragon could use the sun itself crossed the cat’s mind, but that was filed around for later.

He kept running along the buildings, pausing and skidding on the slick, claw tiles. They were designed for rain, not a lake. He didn’t even realize how close he had gotten until he was close enough to look down at the dragon, and the massive dome of water filled his vision. The cat boy paced on his building, knowing how little time he had left. He had seen enough of the battle that anything big like this couldn’t last long.

A massive, singular claw popped out of his paw, and cut into the spear near the base of its shaft. The yarn at Leon’s side sprang forth, coiling around spear and locking into place thanks to that divot. He hefted the spear carefully, then threw it into the dome of water, pushing it along with his yarn like a long hand. The torrent nearly swept it away, but his aim was true. It missed impaling itself on the spire trapping the dragon, but the yarn caught. It was child’s play to wrap it in such a way that it wouldn’t accidentally come loose.

With a deep breath, Leon leapt forward and into the water. Almost immediately, he pulled his body like a rocket to the spire above the struggling dragon. The landing nearly drove the air from Leon’s lungs, a death sentence. His chest already beginning to burn, the second yarn spool sprang out from his side and hooked onto a bony ridge above Moonwing’s eyes. He couldn’t tell, and didn’t care if it was the good or the bad. It was a simple matter to pull with one line attached to Moonwing, and control with the spire line, to move his body and twist through the water toward the dragon

Massive claws flashed, even in the dome of water, and Leon’s paw racked down through the water, seeking to spill the jelly of the dragon’s eye.

Show her to try and ignore him.

[Hysteria]

The claws of the Nekomata sunk deeply into the eye of the dragon. Moonwing could not yell encased in water, instead she was trapped within the creation of her own demise. What little of the dragon’s eye remained was further pierced by the dark angel’s magic, tearing a large chunk out of her face. Blood filled the water, even as it started to subside. The majority of the water disappeared, dissolving back into pure magic and lifting into the air in little more than a calm breeze.

The rest of the water started to spread out into the city, filling it with ankle or knee deep muddy mess. The Moonwing could do little but push against the spire, unable to move it and unable to give up. Her powerful roars had become more of a groan of futility as blood leaked down her face from both her ruined eyes.

There was little left of the city now. What had survived the fire and lighting had been partially or mostly washed away by the water. If the dragon’s aim had been the destroy the town, she had been successful. However, that was little, if any of her grand goal. The lofty aim had been to remove all men, elf and dwarf from the world. In this respect, she had not made a dint in the sprawling population of Althanas.

Foolish mortals. she began, her voice reverberated in the minds of all still alive just as powerful and serene as it had been when she arrived, I am more than this form. I am more than this bag of flesh and blood. I will have my vengeance. I will not be stopped by the likes of you.

[Storm Veritas]

The actions of the crew of heroes about the city was unmistakable, and Storm could only grin at the successes the braver lots amongst them had enjoyed. He continued to bound and sprint as he raced across rooftops, experiencing great relief as the water subsided as quickly as it had arrived. The great dragon had invaded his brain again, this time referring to her own incredible capabilities and a potential to change forms yet again.

The hell you will. We know how to deal with this version; I think we’ll just make a run at it.

As he had reached what he expected must have been beyond the peripheral vision of the scaled beast, Storm wildly, almost insanely leapt from the rooftop. The felled dragon would not possibly see him coming, and he wouldn’t give her time to hear his heart beat or triangulate his smell. This would prove wise, as the rapid-beating heart had likely generated quite the considerable odor given the heat and stress he’d experienced in moments past.

The eyes of Storm Veritas fixated on the thick, meaty muscle where the neck of Moonwing met with her mighty shoulders. The scales there were less dense, and he knew that nerves and throat and spine and other critical goodies would likely be vulnerable should he make it down far enough. As he dove from the considerable height, a time not more than two seconds passed by as though a recap of his existence. Memories of attacking Sunwing, and the dragon upon Raiaera, and countless associated injuries flooded his better judgment and confidence.

This is reckless and stupid and suicidal and you’re gonna f*cking die…

And with the nearly surgical precision of the most skilled craftsman, Storm still effortlessly unsheathed his daggers and targeted his enemy’s neck, throat and spine. He would land in a crash, attempting to drive the thin, ultra-hardened daggers through meat and flesh and end this horrific fiasco once and for all.

Or die trying, you stupid asshole.

[Revenant]

Time stretched endlessly as William swirled around within Moonwing’s attack. Every strike of broken stone or splintered wood spun him helplessly. Though it must have only been a minute inside the torrent, it seemed like it would never end. At some point he had been caught in a mass of debris, saved from the currents only to find himself buried over and over by the crashing current. Something flickered at the edges of his vision right before his burning lungs gave out and he convulsively inhaled. It seemed to him to be some form of magical shield, desperately fighting to hold back the flood. But it could just as easily have been a trick of his oxygen deprived mind.

And then the attack was over. Most of the water around him simply vanished, and William was spilled onto the ground. Instantly his body started heaving, his regenerative capabilities working to purge the boiling, bloody water from his lungs. William gasped and lay still as the dark circles in his vision faded back out of view. He had survived the attack. Somehow.

But though he had survived, William was in a horrible state. The initial wounds he had taken from the church’s collapse were already healing, but he had a lot more to work through now. It felt like his entire body had been used as a training bag. Fighting the pain, William gritted his teeth and rolled onto his hands and knees to take stock.

Moonwing’s psychic rage almost went completely unnoticed as William screamed. The white-hot pain nearly knocked the consciousness from him, but William was a fighter and held on. Blood was oozing from his mouth, a gift from the rib puncturing one of his lungs. One eye was bleary, and William was certain that an errant hunk of rock and cracked the socket. Add to that the numerous cracks and gashes and William was in poor shape. But worst and most debilitating was that his right leg seemed completely turned around. At some point in the whirlpool it must have been caught between two hunks of stone and rather than breaking the steel hard carapace it had simply spun the limb around, destroying his knee in the process.

But despite how badly he was beaten, William could already feel his healing working. From the sounds in the center of where the church had been he and the other fighter’s efforts had sealed Moonwing’s doom. All William would have to do was hold on for a few minutes to be well enough to move, albeit at a horribly hobbled pace. But the dragon was not yet dead. His love was not yet his. And William wouldn’t allow those petty little creatures to take her from him. Not at the moment of his triumph.

Raising his head, William focused as hard as he could until he caught sight of Moonwing’s ruined face. Grinning, William summoned the last of his energy and called forth his final magma shot and sent it hurtling towards Moonwing’s head. Energy spent, William’s collapsed into the pool of mud beneath him, human once more.

[Karuka]

Karuka let her shield fall the instant the water dropped to knee height. Behind her, she could hear gasping, coughing, and screams of anguish as submerged runners caught their breath and found out who in their number hadn't survived the merciless rush of water. The redhead had kept most of the flotsam out of the broad street, preventing people from being battered and crushed by the incoming debris, but plenty had still met their ends by being bashed against the ruined buildings or simply from breathing too much water.

Taodoine's body came to rest on a building as the water subsided, and after a moment he disintegrated into a pile of ash. No matter; he'd be back in a matter of minutes to hours. But she passed so many who wouldn't be back as she splashed through the remaining water on her way to the dragon. An elderly man, bent from his long days of labor. A young woman in the prime of her life, dressed to impress a suitor she'd never see again. A small boy, three years of age at most, a terrified scream still on his face. Every one of them and hundreds more besides had more days to live, more life to experience, more lessons to teach and love to give. All those lives had been unfairly cut short by the rampaging Moonwing.

How many thousands of deaths has one mother's grief caused?

The dragon looked pitiful. Formerly a shining paragon of pure power, she laid broken, blind, burned and bleeding beneath tons of sacred rubble. Even now, in her final struggles, Karuka had to admit that she was beautiful.

"What vengeance have y' taken, Moonwing?" She hadn't raised her voice, but it filled the space, sad and warm and rolling. "These people've never so much as seen a dragon, much less hurt one. These people did not d'serve this."

Her hands carved another set of runes, calling on what remained of her magical might for the day. Thick vines rose from the ichor-stained muck, crawling over scales and demolished structure alike. "This is anguish, it's grief, it's rage. But who among th' many, many y've killed were y' actually seekin' vengeance on? Who'd have blamed y' if y'd summoned forth th' ones who'd killed yer son so y' could slaughter them?"

Her eyes briefly caught Storm's; she doubted that he appreciated her sentiment, but she was sure he understood her own protectiveness for her child. "I don't know if Sunwing was killin' innocents or jus' noticed by th' wrong people at th' wrong time. But I know what y' were doin'. An' I know y' had t' be stopped. Again, an' again, an' again, if necessary. Y'd prob'ly jus' better stay down an' rejoin yer child."

Karuka clenched her fist and pulled down, commanding the vines she'd summoned. As one, they constricted, cracking rocks and crushing down on the dragon with unrelenting force. The runic mage said nothing further, and she didn't stay to watch Moonwing's final breaths. She simply turned, tears in her eyes, and walked out of the church.

Her feet took her back to the tiny boy without asking permission from her head, and she knelt down beside him. Her hands cradled the little corpse and pulled him from the cold mud with a nasty sucking sound. Though she was far too late to comfort the mangled toddler, she held him close anyway. Trails of hot, wet brine tracked down her cheeks, not so much a flood of multiple tears as a continuous stream of two.

I'm sorry, wee bit. I'm so sorry.

[Ioder]

The seraphim's spear of indignation mangled Moonwing near beyond recognition. Her face looked like a mound of raw meat atop a withering husk of beauty. Yet while all seemed like a victory Ioder had newly reached his limit causing his etherial totem to disappear. He was unstable and exhausted, it was a blessing that the water subsided when it did.

The dragon tried once more to attack him telepathicly but to no avail. He wasn't concerned with her anymore, these we're mere empty threats. It was a shame really, he would have been a great deal of assistance to the beast if only she had any inclination to cooperate. But that wasn't the case and this is where it lead us, she now only moments from death. While normally he would release his magic in the case of an elder dragon one could never too carful. He held firm to an orb of whitegold nebula just in case she might try something.

Below he could see those who survived the ordeal muster up enough energy to send their final attacks at the beast. While he knew that he should aid with their last assault he couldn't help but stay in elevated stasis. To the untrained eye rubble decorated the former town, but to the seraphim a vortex of energy erupted. A torrent of destruction and anguish, the souls of the hundreds who lost their lives to the sudden flood, started to flow up towards him.

This was why he came here on this day, this was his bountiful harvest. The power provided by just a single soul is enough to ensure Ioder's continued immortality for a time. But this, this was incredible. He paused for a moment before he welcomed it with open arms. As the power flooded into him he screamed in pain, his hair stood on end and face went pail. And just as quickly as it came the power left leaving Ioder levitating in mid air. Never before had he such an intake of soul energy he didn't know what to feel, strength or sorrow.

Nevertheless the seraphim stayed focused, scanning the now clear debris. One person stood out in the muddy disaster below, a red headed Karuka clutching a child. With great speed he defended to meet the fellow worrior. As he did it became clear that the boy was one who fell to Moonwings rampage, Karuka was in mourning.

"No more tears M'lady," Ioder said as he landed in the muddy rubble. He didn't know the woman, nor did he feel any particular pull towards her, rather his concern was genuine. "You did all you could do for these people. Tragedies like this happen with too much reaccurance in this world we live in. I am an envoy from the other side, believe me when I tell you that this boy, this little thing, felt nothing as he passed." And will those as his final words to the woman he leapt off once more to witness the beauty that was the death of the beast. Her's too would soon be his, and with it he would finally be in the position hes been reaching towards for as long as he could remember.

[Artifex Felicis]

Leon was far from graceful as Moonwing’s magic fell, sputtering even though he knew and felt the magic disappearing entirely. At first he dangled from his perch on the dragon’s nose, but the water swept him off so his only lifeline was the spire and yarn hooked onto the dragon. As the dragon stood, still proud for these last moments, the spear fell away from the spire. With a whip, the cat brought it to his paw. It hurt to catch, the wood sliding from his grip before he got a hold of it, and the delyn yarn spooling beneath him.

The dragon’s psychic attack was devastating now that he was this close to the dragon. It overloaded his mind with its pride and vehemence, snapping…something. He dangled, the yarn digging deeply into his arm as he hung with his body shuddering from the dragon’s words. Something defiant rose, defeating his first instinct to tuck his tails and run.

He roared again, softly at first, but the sound built and built upon itself, in defiance of the beautiful creature he dangled from. Some human part of Leon Timyon knew that Moonwing, the shining dragon, would not care. The rest of him didn’t care.

The spear in Leon’s hand had a history of slaying dragons, and it’d be only appropriate to taste another of the regal beast’s blood. It slid down the cat’s grip, the wood smooth in his paw as he lifted it up and aimed quickly. He threw the spear awkwardly, forcing it along with the yarn behind it to try and pierce the dragon’s softer skin at the neck.

He launched himself with the yarn still attached to the ridge on Moonwing’s head, his entire body rocketing toward’s the dragon’s soft neck. There was a loud cutting sound, like the air itself was splitting around the massive claws in his paw. He soared through the air and past Moonwing’s neck, his claws swiping, the dancing flash of extended claws seeking to split open the dragon’s neck like an overripe fruit. The yarn uncoiled from his arms, and he tumbled down and along the dragon’s side with a snarl. He managed to make his way to the ground below, landing in a tumble. Maybe he’d be able to avoid the inevitable massive assault.

Not that the hunter cared too much for what happened to him now.

[Hysteria]

The blades of Storm scraped across the scales of Moonwing’s neck with an ear splitting screech. A sudden flick of a loose scale and the daggers broke through, slicing into dragon flesh with rich, thick spouts of blood spraying over Storm’s arms. The creature’s neck was the focus of another attack as cat followed human and sank claws into the dragon's exposed flesh. Moonwing would have roared, would have lifted her proud head to face those that struck her, even with blind eyes. There were lots of things the downed dragon longed to do. While the water slowly subsided around her, the pool of blood that spread out like a blooming flower from her neck.

Both Feline and Man were covered in a gush of blood as their attacks cut an artery. Few people could claim to have bathed in the blood of a living dragon, but now these two could. The blood of a dragon is unique, imbued with the same energies of the dragon itself, it was uniquely warm. Not just physically, but also spiritually. Yet with it carried the sadness of Moonwing, giving both a unique sense of the ages she had spent living. Even memories of Sunwing were entwined within.

There would be an argument later over what finally ended the dragon's life. As her life blood seeped away, the blast of magma from the downed Revenant tore a large chunk of her head away. It was luck, or perhaps some divine hand that caused the dragon's head to take the impact and sheild the pair that had slit the dragon's throat.

What would be remembered without argument was the sudden quiet that descended on the town of Jormungstadt. The shinning beauty of the dragon was in streaks of silver and red. The light seemed to dim, her shine dropped to a rusty gleam. Above the still body of the dragon lifted a shimmering haze. The life force of centuries was dissapating into the air, so strong and powerful that it could even be seen by those without magical sight. A sudden wind burst into life around the shattered town, flipping and pushing all within. The light was suddenly gone, taken far away by some unknown power.

None would have felt this more keenly than Ioder. While the majority of the life force of Moonwing had been whisked away, a small proportion remained. The size and energy of the life force was palpable, easily dozens of Jormungstadts. The torrent of water had spread around broken produce, seeds, fruit and grains. The life force of Moonwing forced life into the sleeping life, causing plants to sudden sprout out of the rubble around the dragon's body. The display was a hollow gesture to the dead, because no amount of life force would bring those souls back.

[Storm Veritas]

The terrible, glorious flood of blood from the neck of the dragon washed over Storm Veritas in a ghastly deluge. Both arms, still linked to the blades which set themselves deep in the sinewy flesh of the great beast, were doused with the glowing crimson cream at a speed which was violent. The acrid, cuprous smell would forever etch in his brain as the telltale marker of early death. The head of the once-juggernaut dropped, twitching and gasping for the last breaths it would never take.

At the end of it all, he was frozen, terrified to move and wake the horrendous behemoth once more. That the group of noble or guilty spectacular had managed to fell this monster would never settle up with logic; mighty Moonwing was too much for nations, let alone a brave half-dozen.

Gods. I don’t know how we managed, but I think we took you down, you fat, awful bitch.

Storm looked about the town of Jormungstadt, a scene of the historic horrific. The streets were covered with shrapnel; flooded flotsam of roof shingles, destroyed furniture, brick and mortar, trash and the wide spread of unidentifiable disaster. Worse were the bodies; although never a humanitarian, the sight of dead innocents en masse was an image that would never leave him.

Too late. Too late for these people, but never again. Never again! Never-fucking-again!

His dagger withdrew, and the scarlet-painted wizard walked with deliberation and obvious pain to the head of the beast. White-hot with rage, the fury within him was unleashed in a tantrum of frustration and horror.

“NEVER AGAIN! NEVER AGAIN!”

His screams and assaults were simply manic. He stabbed behind the skull, driving the dagger into dead flesh and grey matter. He withdrew the blade, feeling an acidity in the blood which he ignored with disdain and disregard. Another slash would follow, and another, and another. He butchered the great head, slaughtering and defiling the dragon’s skull as cracks slowly spread; splashes of blood, cranial fluid and liquefied brain matter sprayed with great disarray.

There were snaps, and cracks, crunches and terrible gurgling sounds. The beast did not look back, or flinch, or blink. The bone of the skull broke into several small pieces following the act of desecration. The blades found their scabbards, and he grabbed a large, pointed piece of bone, throwing it wildly away like a mighty discus toss. Reaching down, he tore again at another piece, this one a larger, smooth, bony span of thick, hardened bone.

His emotions were numbed by the enormity of their task complete. The horror of their failure to save the town. The magnitude of lives in nearby towns saved, of evacuees who had made it. He was torn, and miserable, covered with as much doubt as blood.

Finally, thankfully, he was also done.


[OOC: Spoil request - the large, thick, bony fragment of Moonwing's skull, which is craftable and very strong]

[Ioder]

What was that? Ioder thought to himself as the majority of Moonwing life energy dispersed into the atmosphere. Everything Ioder was hoping for vanished in an instant leaving only a small fraction behind. The area around the great dragon's corpse began to flurry with new life. He felt stolen from, even in death she was a crafty one.

What remained of her life force was quickly consumes into the Sereph like before. And the moment hers met his, something changed within him. It was as if her contiousness was fighting to keep it's individuality among his typhoon of souls. He could hear her voice, she was screaming. Her cries of pain and anguish shattered Ioder's concentration. He began to sweat fighting to stay in control, as he only exists as the dominant personality among the dozens within him.

"How dare you consume me, let me out!" Moonwing raged within his mind. Ioder tried as hard as he could to distance his thoughts from hers but to no avail. The dragon was no simple being even in death she possessed strength that dwarfed his own. "You will never own me, I am the mother of dragons and destroyer of humanity. This is but a fares you do not know my power."

Ioder struggled to compose himself as he made way to her corpse. From the air the green vines and trees sprouting appeared like an oasis amist chaos. He spared no time swooping in and fetching his reward. A bone from this ancient a beast would make a wonderful blade, and would serve as a fine replacement for the loss of Moonwings complete soul. As soon as he landed on the beasts hindquarters two tendril shot out of his back and wrapped swiftly around her left rear leg.

"What do you intend to do with that?" Moonwing pieced his contiousness again. Unlike before her pressance wasn't debilitating and Ioder could work away. But it didn't seem like she would be any less agitating in death. His two white-gold tendrils constricted at he hip before compressing tight, tearing out a large portion of her flesh and bone.

"I intend to craft a blade to remember our battle here," he answers Moonwing. "Its not like you'are gonna be missing it anyway. And how can you retain your individuality within me?" He was stumped, was this going to be permanent or merely temporary?

"You foul being, you would know better than I"

"This is a first for me, and I've been at this a long time and delt with many a soul. You are an anomaly dragon, something I plan to make useful." He spared no time collecting his bone and making way back to Corone. His job was done and he needed to contemplate what Moonwing had left in store for him.


I request the Dragon's Finger for my rewards.

Socondly as per my ability I have soul trapped everyone who died from this awful adventure. The only exclusion is Redford.

[Karuka]

Karuka clung to the tiny body in her arms, numb with grief and a pervading sense of failure. Of the corpses that surrounded her, only a few were the valiant dead, the heroes who had given their lives in the hopes that others might live. Those few, she wouldn't dishonor with her tears, but what of the innocent lives? What of the helpless ones? And how many towns had been similarly destroyed by Moonwing's indiscriminate wrath?

At least she'll not hurt anyone else.

She felt utterly drained; between exhausting her magic only weeks before in Dheathain to save Storm's life and again in the fight with Moonwing, she'd burned herself out for a little while. Hopefully she wouldn't see a need to use so much again for another few years. She didn't think she could be that lucky. Trouble gathered around anyone that Fate found interesting. Some made that trouble. Some fought that trouble. But it was a hallmark of the remarkable: they all had to struggle.

Something heavy landed on her shoulders, and something warm and coarse brushed her cheek while it nudged the lifeless child expectantly. Karu leaned her head into her newly-resurrected phoenix's wing, drawing a little comfort from his presence. "People don't work like that, Taodoine. He's not going t' burst int' flame an' suddenly be five an' fine."

She set the child down, gently closing his mouth and brushing some of the muck from his face. If he still had family, they would claim his body. If he didn't... as far as she saw it, Jorgmunstadt had no choice but to construct a mass grave for all the casualties who still had remains to bury.

Gone without pain, the winged man had said. She doubted it. Even if their agony hadn't shown on their faces, she'd heard the dying screams. What she didn't doubt was that the so-called "envoy from the other side" was anything but, and she wouldn't have regretted it if he'd been one of the dragon's casualties.

Standing up, the redhead trudged through the sludge, back to the dragon and to her blood-bathed lover, who'd just finished his enraged outburst. Knowing Storm, she couldn't help but feel like it was a metaphor for something, but at least he was still on his feet. She patted him on the back, a quiet acknowledgement of the horrors they'd just survived.

Then her eyes tracked to the cat-man. She'd only known him briefly, and their meeting had been many years before, but how could he be anyone else?

"Leon Timyon. Seems like dragons are a common thing when we meet."

A heavy door creaked open below them, and a few bedraggled worshipers crawled out of the church's basement. They were half-drowned and had nearly been crushed by the dragon's final attack. Many more with them hadn't been lucky enough to drag themselves back to the light of day. In their misery, though, Karuka saw hope. Yes, there were many dead. But there were still survivors in need of medical help, and at the very least she could give that.

The dragon would be carved up while she was working, and she would take from a femur bone. In order to partially atone for Moonwing's crimes, a piece of her body would spend the rest of its existence defending people.

Spoils request: A strong, long piece of ancient dragon bone or an 8' spear made of the same. Enchantments, if any, up to Hysteria's discretion.

[Revenant]

With his fuelling rage being tapped for the time being, William could do little but lay in an exhausted heap while Moonwing’s final moments played out. Fortunately, there was no one left in Jormungstadt to bother him. Besides, he thought, what’s one more body amidst the hundred already littering the ground? And so he lay, feeling his wounds close, his shattered knee restructure itself, and his rib slide out from his lung.

It took two hours for William’s restorative capabilities to pull him back together. By that time, it seemed like the rest of Moonwing’s opponents had fled, along with the majority of Jormungstadt’s remaining residents. There was little to keep them here, now that everything they’d ever known was in ruins. Even so, there were still a few who remained, and William rose to join them.

Most of the rats were scurrying about in mourning, dragging limp, crushed bodies from the refuse which filled every visible street. There were so many ruined buildings surrounding the fallen church that William knew it would take weeks to remove everything and to take full stock of just what Jormungstadt had lost. But the mourners weren’t the only people out and about in Moonwing’s aftermath.

Plenty of scoundrels saw the dragon mother’s attack as an opportunity of sorts. Having survived a situation which had claimed the lives of so many others meant that there was a lot of unclaimed wealth which was ripe for the taking if one was strong and brave enough to claim it. William trudged barefoot through the debris, ignoring the sharp, biting shards of rock as he himself looked for something specific.

He found his warscythe in the hands of two vagrants, who were using the hardened stone pole to lever a heavy chunk of masonry off a corpse that William could only assume had belonged to a merchant. They paid him little mind as he approached, though the heavier of the two said something vulgar and threatening before William crushed his windpipe. The other man skittered away from the revenant, wielding William’s own obsidian blade against him in a defensive manner. William growled as he took the weapon from the man and slammed its razor edge through his pleading face.

“Pathetic,” he spat at the fresh corpses. He’d just witnessed true destructive power, been beholden to an ancient might that was almost incomprehensible. These men and their lives were next to nothing compared to that.

His violence did not go unnoticed. The roving bands of survivors were still reeling with shock, they had had enough violence thrust upon them for one day. They scattered from the ragged man, leaving their dead where they lie until this new threat had passed.

Sniveling cowardly worms, William thought, watching them go. He felt the predator’s urge to take chase, to cut and hew until Jormungstadt was well and truly dead, but the sight of Moonwing’s ravaged corpse pulled him up short. A tremendous amount of damage had been done to the dragon by William and his fellow fighters, but even more had been done to it by scavengers following Moonwing’s death. She was surrounded by people picking her corpse over like ants, each ripping to claim part of the ancient dragon for their own desires. It infuriated William to see his love being treated so, and the fury rekindled the spark of his molten heat within him. Tanned skin charred once more to thick, blackened ash as William strode over to Moonwing, his war form once more reasserting itself.

The edge of his warscythe flashed twice, cleaving half a dozen scavengers apart before the rest could scurry away. Idly, William summoned a ball of magma and hurled it at the largest group of fleeing persons, ripping them apart with explosive fire. Another round of explosions would ensure that the rest of the survivors kept well and truly clear of William until he was finished.

William reached down and picked up a thick fore claw that one of the men had been prying from Moonwing’s front hand and examined it. The claw was thick and incredibly dense, and William’s cursed vision could see just how tough and sharp it was. Such a thing would be a waste in the hands of these … savages. Smiling grimly to himself, William decided on a course of action, using the talon, he thrust into the softer scales around Moonwing’s abdomen and tore her open, spilling still warm entrails across his feet. Alternately using his scythe and the dragon’s talon he sifted through the gore until he found Moonwing’s lifeless heart and then, pocketing the talon, tore it free.

Moonwing’s heart, the very core of her being. This was what had fueled his love, what had filled her with revenge and set her on this suicidal course. Without her heart, the dragon’s body was nothing but a lump of rotting meat. Let the scavengers pick at it as they would. They would never truly me able to claim Moonwing as long as William held his love’s heart.

Resolve renewed, William called his molten power to him, wrapped himself in a swirling gust of hot winds, and lifted into the air, leaving the shattered corpse of Jormungstadt in its death throes far behind him.

Spoil Request:
The Carver - Detailed in Hysteria's post here. (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?30773-Cry-of-the-Dragon-Mother&p=262858&viewfull=1#post262858)

Jerkiest Dragon Jerkey - Because I'm a jerk. Also detailed here. (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?30773-Cry-of-the-Dragon-Mother&p=262858&viewfull=1#post262858)

Moonwing's heart, which has no inherent abilities if its own.

[Artifex Felicis]

Leon had landed roughly, the bumps and scratches easily ignored as Moonwing fell. There was so much more going on than a couple bruises and new cuts on a body so badly beaten before.

The blood that stained his hands, fur and hair was warm, even comfortable. It was a brief feeling, as the hot life quickly cooled, and the sobering feeling of what the hunter had done slowly began to settle into him. The dust of the dragon’s fall was scratchy and bothersome, the only sound and motion in the air around him.

He felt empty, hollow almost. An old yearning, for a daughter he barely knew, for a son that was cut down by men, for a life that he had never lived grew within him. He pawed at the suddenly constricting armor that covered his chest, peeling the sticky material off and letting it drop with a heavy clatter on the ground. He recognized it as something like nostalgia, for something he never knew.

He also felt the monstrous consequences of his hunt.

His arms still ached from pushing his body and splitting the dragon’s neck with the tall man with the dragon. His claws dipped from the dancing flash that had helped murder the mother seeking vengeance for her child. He stumbled back, body shuddering as he slipped on a mangled arm.

She came to die, didn’t she.

It was a truth that Leon believed, even if it might not be true. She knew what had happened to her (his) son, what would happen to her sooner or later. He felt the ages of experience that Moonwing had ignored, and could taste the fury she held even after death.

Senseless. She just wanted to hurt…

He sat, raising his head to the woman who walked to him. It took him a few moments to recognize her, eyes blinking slowly and with an intense gaze. It had been years since he had seen her, and she grown so much since. He smiled as he found her name.

“Karuka O’Sheen,” His tongue stumbled over her family name. He raised a bloody paw to his chest, pulling at his shirt and finding the silver bell. He pulled, snapping it off of his chain and chuckling as he let it jungle. “So it seems…”

As the town began to carve up the dragon, the cat found his taste turning against the dragon’s meat. He declined the butchered parts offered, taking his leave later that night without anymore than a note for an old friend. She couldfind hm again if she needed to.

((Requesting The Carver as shown here. (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?30773-Cry-of-the-Dragon-Mother&p=262858&viewfull=1#post262858)))

[Hysteria]

What a twisted tale it is, that weaves and ducks between the lines of fate. On one side, those killed by the Moonwing’s rage, the other those who picked and gnawed at her corpse. A mother scorned, a town destroyed and a story written. Etched with the blood of innocent, the ash of embers and cries of loss.

No one would know of the cave, deep within the Twilight Mountains. The line of stones looked ordinary, nothing but rock. It was here that the lifeforce of the mirror dragon drifted. One stone shimmered, the course outline of it’s shape hardened into smooth marble. The egg cracked and a silver claw pierced the shell.


* * * *

What killed the town of Jormungstadt had perhaps saved it. The carcass of an ancient dragon was worth far more than it’s weight in gold and even a small dragon like Moonwing was ripe for the picking. Her scales were torn from her body, her bones chopped and carted away. Even the meat of her flesh was hacked into pieces and cooked. Who wouldn’t want to claim to have eaten dragon? The story of the battle twisted and grew into a thing entirely different. Stories of an angel of light, a demon of fire, a beast of fury, a man of lightning and a woman of ice and fire, they flowed like water into Alerar taverns where they freely mixed with beer and wine.

Thank you all for participating and reading.

Rewards are as such:

All participants receive quest based EXP (not GP!) to be determined by the judge’s score.

Specific items/rewards:

Storm Veritas

Ancient Dragon Scale (2 Pieces) - Value 500 gold each
The scales of Moonwing the Mirror Dragon are more vivid than even the most polished silver. They carry with them the magic of a light dragon, providing unique resistance to shadow, dark or necrotic magics.

The Cool Guy Badge - A small badge, taking the shape of a star with a circle around it (although few on Althanas recognise the symbol), this badge has a strange calming effect on people around the wearer. By flashing this badge, people are more likely to listen to what the wearer is saying, and slightly more likely to do what he or she is saying.

Revenant

http://orig15.deviantart.net/249c/f/2016/074/b/8/bone_3_by_harlequinhues-d9v6pdz.png The Carver
Made from ancient dragon bone of Moonwing, this large sword has a long flat blade with a cruel curve. Along the back of the blade runes have been used to try and contain the power held within, but they are only partially effective.
Size doesn't matter - the carver changes size so that it is always a two handed sword, the same length as from the wielder’s shoulder to the ground. Be it giant or dwarf, this blade will change size to suit.
Scrub - by running a finger across the runes that line the blade of the Carver, the magic held within is released. A dozen blades of light, replicas the same shape as the Carver, are released around the wielder. The blades twist and curve through the air, cutting through anything that they come in contact with. The effect at close range is catastrophic, with nearly everything surrounding the wielder exposed to the blades. Ten metres out, the blades start to separate, making it easier to dodge or avoid. After twenty metres, the blades disappear. Scrub can only be used twice a day, with a minimum of three (of the wielder's) posts between. The blades are considered the strength of prevalida, and are not able to be directed or controlled once released.

Jerkiest Beef Jerky - A small length of Dragon Meat, jerked to perfection. An unusual side effect of jerking magical meat, it regrows into it’s original form a day after eating. If the eater wanted to be a jerk, he or she could also spit the meat at someone. The spices and chili used erupt upon spitting, causing a small foot-sized chili-cloud that causes considerable irritation to eyes and nose should it reach someone’s face.

Moonwing's heart (Dragon’s Heart; no inherent abilities if its own)

Ioder

http://orig08.deviantart.net/bf4a/f/2016/074/9/5/bone_short_3_by_harlequinhues-d9v6pet.png Dragon Finger - Dragon Bone Short Sword
The Dragon Finger has been cut down and carved from ancient dragon bone taken from one of the fingers of Moonwing. Dragon Finger’s hilt was made of the joint, and the smooth ball at the base originally joined the finger with the rest of the hand can still be seen. The magic of Moonwing has been channeled into two unique abilities, each drawing on the Dragon Finger’s original use.
Flicker - Dragon Finger, as well as being exceptionally hard and sharp, is able to channel light energy of its original form, sending bright white energy from the tip in an extraordinary fast strobe, blinding all but the wielder for five seconds. The light takes a full post to charge before it can be used again, and a full day is needed to recharge after three uses.
Claw - For a moment the large claws of Moonwing appear in bright white light, delivering four simultaneous slashes parallel to the ground, each a metre long and spaced half a metre apart. The effective range is five metres from the wielder and the strength equal to that of prevalida. Only one slash can be called upon a day.

Rubber Dragon Ducky - Made from the finest Corone rubber, this duck is extremely buoyant. While this might seem useless, if one has this in their pocket and is caught under a large amount of water, one will rise up quite quickly to the surface.

Karuka

http://orig00.deviantart.net/be83/f/2016/075/d/9/wrath_5_by_harlequinhues-d9val5d.png Dragon’s Bane
This single sided halberd was crafted from one of the vertebra of Moonwing. The halberd was once part of the system channeling magic through her core, and its ability to create and channel magic remains as one of its key traits.
Lasting Trace - the bone halberd still remembers the magic that was used in the final moments of Moonwing death. At the start of each day the Player picks one of four elements, lightning, fire, water or ice. The three floating bone balls behind the head are able to be flung at a target (by hand), exploding and doing the corresponding elemental damage. Only three balls can be used a day, and they must be the same element.
Lighting - an area of ten feet is electrified, causing intense pain and muscle spasms to anything caught within. The weakening effect lasts for two posts during which time the person could have their speed reduced by half.
Fire - a large explosion fills a full ten feet, burning anyone caught within. The fire itself inflicts second degree burns, but those caught within the middle two feet will also experience a the force of the explosion. A normal person will suffer broken bones in addition to the burns.
Water - Causes a burst of water, knocking anyone within twenty feet backwards. Those caught within the initial 10 feet will suffer the brunt of the shock wave (enough to break bones of a normal person). Within five feet, the person could suffer several severe injuries. The water itself drains away the next post after use.
Ice - freezes an area of five feet solid with ice. Anything or anyone caught within will be encased within. From the frozen core ice spikes shoot outwards a further five feet, impaling anything within reach. The ice lasts three posts, but weakens dramatically after the first.

The Seed - An unknown stow away from the sudden blooming of life after the death of Moonwing, this seed can bloom and grow into a straight vine reaching twenty feet into the air. After a moment at that height, small branches sprout along its length making it easy to climb. After growing it lasts four posts before it rots away. Somehow, it always manages to seed again, leaving you carrying a new seed.

Artifex Felicis

http://orig15.deviantart.net/249c/f/2016/074/b/8/bone_3_by_harlequinhues-d9v6pdz.png The Carver
Made from ancient dragon bone of Moonwing, this large sword has a long flat blade with a cruel curve. Along the back of the blade runes have been used to try and contain the power held within, but they are only partially effective.
Size doesn't matter - the carver changes size so that it is always a two handed sword, the same length as from the wielder’s shoulder to the ground. Be it giant or dwarf, this blade will change size to suit.
Scrub - by running a finger across the runes that line the blade of the Carver, the magic held within is released. A dozen blades of light, replicas the same shape as the Carver, are released around the wielder. The blades twist and curve through the air, cutting through anything that they come in contact with. The effect at close range is catastrophic, with nearly everything surrounding the wielder exposed to the blades. Ten metres out, the blades start to separate, making it easier to dodge or avoid. After twenty metres, the blades disappear. Scrub can only be used twice a day, with a minimum of three (of the wielder's) posts between. The blades are considered the strength of prevalida, and are not able to be directed or controlled once released.

The Seed - An unknown stow away from the sudden blooming of life after the death of Moonwing, this seed can bloom and grow into a straight vine reaching twenty feet into the air. After a moment at that height, small branches sprout along its length making it easy to climb. After growing it lasts four posts before it rots away. Somehow, it always manages to seed again, leaving you carrying a new seed.

[Skie and Avery]

Thread Title: In the gaze of the moon (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?30785-In-the-gaze-of-the-moon)
Judgment Type: Condensed Rubric
Participants: Hysteria, Storm Veritas, Karuka, Revenant, Ioder, Artifex Felicis, and redford


Plot: 20/30

Nice and straightforward for me, especially having read the Sunwing battle. I liked seeing how the characters that had a hand in Sunwing’s demise felt when they faced Moonwing, but I kind of felt like the character that really pulled the events of the last thread into this one the best was Karuka. I absolutely wasn’t expecting some of you to be wracked with guilt over Sunwing’s death being the motivation for Moonwing attacking, but there was a great opportunity to really pull the threads together into one story that I felt was glossed over quite a bit. I didn’t dock much for this because I recognize it’s me being nitpicky and honestly the difference between two chapters in a book and two books separately so to speak.

I was slightly confused about Rev’s “love” angle. I’m not really sure where it came from or the motivation that was there, but you were consistent with the infatuation. Being clearer about how the obsession sprouted would have been very helpful.

Hysteria’s ending makes me hopeful that this will be a trilogy soon and I hope to see more repeating faces to help really pull this saga together.

Character: 25/30

Many of you showed really strong, consistent character and I really felt like I was seeing your stories and personas during the battle. Again, I felt that this was really helped by having a continuation of a few of your stories. I think that a weakness that you all had was that you could have worked together more to really have it be a group battle rather than six people all fighting a dragon at once, if that makes sense. A really fantastic example of where this did happen perfectly was Karuka shielding Revenant during the water bubble phase. You didn’t completely fall short here. You were acknowledging each other’s attacks and sometimes working with what someone else had established, but I still felt that interacting together more really would have helped these characters shine in this battle.

Prose: 20/30
Some of the battle got muddy, which I suppose is hard to avoid when you have six writers going at once. I will say that when the clarity suffered, it was never to the point where I lost the thread entirely. Some of the way that the water bubble phase was handled in the writing made it feel more like an area hurricane rather than a domed flood, and at one point someone said that they were above the dragon on a roof, but I’d been imagining the area with the spire of the church as the highest point. Little details like that were somewhat jarring, but for the most part everyone was on the same page.

I do wonder if Ioder was writing posts on a phone or tablet with autocorrect. I saw the most grammatical errors in your post, Billy, and they were all really strange ones, such as nobel (like the Nobel Peace Prize) instead of noble. Using the wrong word that was close but not even quite a homonym was consistent through your posts, and made me think of the way autocorrect on my phone will change words. If so, this is something to be especially vigilant about in the future.


Wildcard: 6/10

Karuka, in post #14, you wrote, “she ducked into an alley, leaping over crates, carts, and cowards” and that alliteration was one of my favorite pieces of technique that I saw in this thread.

You guys did a great job. In the judgment of the Sunwing thread, I mentioned that I was disappointed with the lack of epic-ness of that battle. This was epic.


Final Score: 71/100

Hysteria receives 1715 EXP
Storm Veritas receives 1724 EXP
Karuka receives 1657 EXP
Revenant receives 1657 EXP
Ioder receives 1194 EXP
Artifex Felicis 843 EXP
redford receives 250 EXP and 25 GP

Congratulations!

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All EXP and GP have been added!