Post by Lillith on Jan 4, 2006 15:31:39 GMT -5
Silent was the way the winter air was, the moon full and bright, the starry skies and the gently swaying trees a testament to the tranquility of the surrounding area. And yet all that would be shattered, all that would come to a screaming halt as the roar of the Silver rent asunder the peaceful night. Her form sleek and powerful would streak through the skies, eyes no longer the mercury pools they once were, now a striking sapphire with the sparkle of the silver they had been tearing over the land below. Another mighty bellow to signal the arrival of the Silver Warrior, a note that an Ancient was near and planned to enter this territory. Any of her ilk would know, would understand, this was a challenge of some sorts. Would any step to her and meet it? Most likely not. Too long it had been since she’d set eyes upon other Dragon kind, an eternity it seemed. She flew the skies alone now. She was an Ancient, and she was due the respect this rank earned, and she gained it well. Mighty wings would tuck to her body to plummet towards the earth, unfurling soon enough to cause a massive whirlwind of earth and debris as talons tore open the soil beneath her upon her landing. Her mighty head would lift, jaws craning wide to send forth one last cry as wings nestled to her back, spiked tail easing back and forth as she settled upon her haunches. Those eyes would settle upon the area surrounding her, huffing forth snort after snort of heated air, ducking her head low as she gathered in scents. The Ba’al had gone, she knew not where, and had taken their son with him. This Empress had left after their scents, the ghost of their voices had begun to fade overly much. She was hungry, she was angry. She would find release of it all somehow. The moon’s rays would dance off the silver covering her body, scales melded to near sheer perfection, nothing could penetrate within. The late Keeper of Destruction would watch about her surroundings, keen eyes piercing through the trees. Her head would lower slightly, gaze sweeping over a tavern nearby, a low rumble of warning coming from deep within. Heat washed from her, poured from her, scorching the ground she trod upon as her sinewy form eased forward. She smelled so many that had been here, human, and not as well. So many walked these lands, all doomed. She only stretched to 150 yards in length, her wings 400 tip to tip, ah but she was more then an Ancient Silver Warrior, Power in its own right. She had once been Empress of Destruction, and many had perished beneath her flame. Many had lived as well, she was wise, she could be kind. She could be Death as well.Looming over the land, she would watch, giant talons would sink into the earth as she stared upon the dwelling. To enter as the Woman? Nay. Let them all know, her kind was far from gone. Keen hearing picked up the soft rumble of words within, certain ones picked out. It seemed fools still wandered the Lands. A taloned forepaw would lift only to slam down again upon the ground, the windows of the tavern rattling. Would a fool answer this call?
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: There within the tavern sat a being that knew the call of the dragon, even spoke the draconic language. He remembered the day that no one else in the tavern could recall. So long ago the dragons had flourished, but since they had dwindled away, it only made the few stragglers all the more powerful, attempting to defend their race. Therefore, the moment the arch-daemon, nestled comfortably by a roaring hearth, heard the earth-shaking call of the dragon, he was brought to awares very quickly. Garbed in a black tunic and matching pants, the clothing was bedecked by similarly dark swirls and patterns, embroidered throughout the outfit. A pair of refined boots covered his feet, so that the only bits of pale flesh visible were that of his head and hands. Long, pure white tendrils of hair<c
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: licked the tavern's cool stone floor behind the chair. He stood quickly now, and the ends of his hair reached his waist line. Beside the chair sat an enormous sword, broad an long, nearly six feet in length. The weapon's blade consisted of the color blue and white, which seemed to swirl about in mid-air, thought still forming a solid shape. The weapon was as old as the daemon, and had devoured a boundless amount of souls. Yes, the daemon had been around for a long time, he had seen many things, and been to many places. The cry of the dragon brought a fresh wave of nostalgia. The Sentrallion, that legendary sword, was place upon the daemon's back, whereupon four animated straps of leather slid from within the tunic he wore, wrapping around the blade and securing it snugly against<c>lasandir_starthra_necromancer: his back. Without a bit of fear in the pure red eyes, heavily contrasting against his pale skin, he moved to the door of the tavern. His every movement seemed to be rehearsed and practiced for countless millennia, only to be played out at the most opportune moment. His poise was fluid-like in nature, and it brought him gracefully to the door of the tavern, observing the horrified faces of those around him. Soon, those eyes looked up to the towering dragon, the brilliant scales and regal head, the enormous wings and the enormous talons. He said nothing to the dragon at this point, he simply waited for its response, his fingers held taught, always ready to wrap around the hilt of the sword that peeked over his right shoulder.
anishal_silveris: Those almondesque eyes sapphire flecked with silver flakes narrowed as she watched the man exit the building so very calm. Huffing in air, she would snort softly, gathering in his aura, indeed he was Powerful. Of what origins she did not know however. Had she been hidden away so very long then? Curled within the Throne Room, gathering dust as her own senses faded from loss of use? Most interesting. A long sigh flowing from deep within her, the sound holding so much, weariness, pain, loneliness. Yet even through it all, even as she made to lay her massive bulk down, still Strength and Power would exude from her, tail working around her body, wings folding tight her paws crossing as she settled herself regally upon the earth. -c-
anishal_silveris: An inclination of her head to Lasandir, for he was due this respect, he had not simply attacked. She was quite aware of those within the tavern, huddled behind the walls, frightened, afraid to run, afraid to remain. She continued to study Lasandir carefully, sending out her senses,coming to the notion finally that his age was nearly as immense as her own. She could feel Evil upon him, yet he remained simply watching her. Perhaps it was his age that brought this wisdom. A test then. Speech would flow forth, yet her massive maw would not open. -c-
anishal_silveris: Instead the low rumblings feminine yet strong would waft through his mind, were he capable of such a thing. ~Bold you are male, stepping forth as others hide away. Perhaps then you remember my kind, hold memories of a Past long gone. Perhaps as well, you might know of where others as I may dwell?~
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: The daemon had been expecting an engagement the moment he stepped out of the door, but he was greeted cordially, rather than violently. Many of the dragons, boundless sources of wisdom, had thrown away their customs and beliefs, digressing to a more feral way of life. Thusly, the stories of dragons leveling towns without reason came about. It was nice to see on the true dragons from the past. The telepathic speech that soon filled his mind was an alluring one. The daemon could do nothing but admire the power of an Ancient. His fluent draconic speech filled the area, responding in a clear, demanding voice, "I have not seen any dragon kin for over a century." He was certain to leave out the fact that he had slayed that last raucous example. "I do remember those days long past, <c>lasandir_starthra_necromancer: however. Both of our kind were more... apparent."
anishal_silveris: Settled there still as stone, eyes ever watchful, trusting not, yet judging not either this strange being that commanded her attention. Temperance was the key, the key to her Wisdom, and why she had remained alive upon the earth for longer then any could fathom. Ah, to settle into the Battle Lust was grand indeed, yet it was not something One simply rushed into. Pulling her triangular head back slightly, spiraled horns twinkling in the moons rays, talons raking within the soft ground, nostrils flaring to give a swift huff of warm over his person, such a gentle touch really. She could do much damage with just that small thing, yet chose not too. -c-
anishal_silveris: Was she indeed that much in seeking some sort of.. companionship? ~I feared that would be your answer. I suppose I would know were there any of us left. I would feel it..~ Lowering her mighty head she would come eye to eye with him, even this one part of her body dwarfing him immensely. Many patrons of the tavern were still peeking out the windows, drawn to the majestic Dragoness settled so primly upon their grass. ~You speak of your kind as well. Tell me, for my memory is weakened from time. I would know what you are Sirrah.~
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: The daemon stepped forward a bit, highly intrigued at this point, and he gave the dragoness a closer inspection. If she looked closely, the dragon would notice the wisps of white essences that drifted over his dark red eyes, miniature mouths screaming soundlessly for a release from their eternal imprisonment. It had truly been such a long time since he had met a traditional beast such as this. It was an honor to simply be in the presence of such a powerful force. That draconic voice filled the air once again, "I am certain that there are others left, dragons are not the type of race to die out easily. I, on the other hand, am an arch-daemon. Many years ago, when the dragons flourished, I served under Asmodeus. Our numbers have dwindled, but we are not in such grave danger."<c>
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: Lasandir stretched out for just a moment, and a rush of purplish blood poured from the daemon's back as he sprouted two wings almost instantly. They unfurled to their full twenty foot span, stretching out a bit, for they had been curled up inside of him for quite some time. With a single sweep of the large, bat-like masses, Lasandir lifted into the air so that he was level with the eyes of the dragon. His wings did not beat any longer, yet he remained suspended in the air. Bending low in the air, he bowed so deeply that his hair reached past his toes. "I am Lasandir of Starthra, might you grace me with your name?"
anishal_silveris: Claws embedding within the soil to tear asunder a large portion of the earth, huge gaping hole, flinging her head towards the skies as she let loose another bellow. Indeed lonliness was held in the deep depths of her timbre. Her massive triangular head worked to lower once again , peering at Lasandir below, indeed she had noted his eyes, but payed no heed. She had seen such things before, and the answer to her question simply brought a mental shrug. She would blink, slow and easy those almond eyes would stare upon this one gazing upon her, seeing his Power now, feeling its caress, and yet doing nothing. -c-
anishal_silveris: One would think perhaps that this once Empress of Destruction would pounce at the chance to perhaps wreak carnage again, yet he seemed want of this. Capable surely, much as she, yet holding back the Chaos he could obviously let loose. She showed no inkling of surprise as wings sprouted from his back, as he lifted himself to come to her level, merely allowing the barest hint of a deep, rumbling chuckle. Lids would lower over those limpid pools as she once more inclined her head to him, another huff of heated air to blow about his lengthy mane of snow. ~Well met Lasandir Starthra. I was once known simply as Goddess, yet now I roam with the name Anishal Silveris.~
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: There within the tavern sat a being that knew the call of the dragon, even spoke the draconic language. He remembered the day that no one else in the tavern could recall. So long ago the dragons had flourished, but since they had dwindled away, it only made the few stragglers all the more powerful, attempting to defend their race. Therefore, the moment the arch-daemon, nestled comfortably by a roaring hearth, heard the earth-shaking call of the dragon, he was brought to awares very quickly. Garbed in a black tunic and matching pants, the clothing was bedecked by similarly dark swirls and patterns, embroidered throughout the outfit. A pair of refined boots covered his feet, so that the only bits of pale flesh visible were that of his head and hands. Long, pure white tendrils of hair<c
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: licked the tavern's cool stone floor behind the chair. He stood quickly now, and the ends of his hair reached his waist line. Beside the chair sat an enormous sword, broad an long, nearly six feet in length. The weapon's blade consisted of the color blue and white, which seemed to swirl about in mid-air, thought still forming a solid shape. The weapon was as old as the daemon, and had devoured a boundless amount of souls. Yes, the daemon had been around for a long time, he had seen many things, and been to many places. The cry of the dragon brought a fresh wave of nostalgia. The Sentrallion, that legendary sword, was place upon the daemon's back, whereupon four animated straps of leather slid from within the tunic he wore, wrapping around the blade and securing it snugly against<c>lasandir_starthra_necromancer: his back. Without a bit of fear in the pure red eyes, heavily contrasting against his pale skin, he moved to the door of the tavern. His every movement seemed to be rehearsed and practiced for countless millennia, only to be played out at the most opportune moment. His poise was fluid-like in nature, and it brought him gracefully to the door of the tavern, observing the horrified faces of those around him. Soon, those eyes looked up to the towering dragon, the brilliant scales and regal head, the enormous wings and the enormous talons. He said nothing to the dragon at this point, he simply waited for its response, his fingers held taught, always ready to wrap around the hilt of the sword that peeked over his right shoulder.
anishal_silveris: Those almondesque eyes sapphire flecked with silver flakes narrowed as she watched the man exit the building so very calm. Huffing in air, she would snort softly, gathering in his aura, indeed he was Powerful. Of what origins she did not know however. Had she been hidden away so very long then? Curled within the Throne Room, gathering dust as her own senses faded from loss of use? Most interesting. A long sigh flowing from deep within her, the sound holding so much, weariness, pain, loneliness. Yet even through it all, even as she made to lay her massive bulk down, still Strength and Power would exude from her, tail working around her body, wings folding tight her paws crossing as she settled herself regally upon the earth. -c-
anishal_silveris: An inclination of her head to Lasandir, for he was due this respect, he had not simply attacked. She was quite aware of those within the tavern, huddled behind the walls, frightened, afraid to run, afraid to remain. She continued to study Lasandir carefully, sending out her senses,coming to the notion finally that his age was nearly as immense as her own. She could feel Evil upon him, yet he remained simply watching her. Perhaps it was his age that brought this wisdom. A test then. Speech would flow forth, yet her massive maw would not open. -c-
anishal_silveris: Instead the low rumblings feminine yet strong would waft through his mind, were he capable of such a thing. ~Bold you are male, stepping forth as others hide away. Perhaps then you remember my kind, hold memories of a Past long gone. Perhaps as well, you might know of where others as I may dwell?~
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: The daemon had been expecting an engagement the moment he stepped out of the door, but he was greeted cordially, rather than violently. Many of the dragons, boundless sources of wisdom, had thrown away their customs and beliefs, digressing to a more feral way of life. Thusly, the stories of dragons leveling towns without reason came about. It was nice to see on the true dragons from the past. The telepathic speech that soon filled his mind was an alluring one. The daemon could do nothing but admire the power of an Ancient. His fluent draconic speech filled the area, responding in a clear, demanding voice, "I have not seen any dragon kin for over a century." He was certain to leave out the fact that he had slayed that last raucous example. "I do remember those days long past, <c>lasandir_starthra_necromancer: however. Both of our kind were more... apparent."
anishal_silveris: Settled there still as stone, eyes ever watchful, trusting not, yet judging not either this strange being that commanded her attention. Temperance was the key, the key to her Wisdom, and why she had remained alive upon the earth for longer then any could fathom. Ah, to settle into the Battle Lust was grand indeed, yet it was not something One simply rushed into. Pulling her triangular head back slightly, spiraled horns twinkling in the moons rays, talons raking within the soft ground, nostrils flaring to give a swift huff of warm over his person, such a gentle touch really. She could do much damage with just that small thing, yet chose not too. -c-
anishal_silveris: Was she indeed that much in seeking some sort of.. companionship? ~I feared that would be your answer. I suppose I would know were there any of us left. I would feel it..~ Lowering her mighty head she would come eye to eye with him, even this one part of her body dwarfing him immensely. Many patrons of the tavern were still peeking out the windows, drawn to the majestic Dragoness settled so primly upon their grass. ~You speak of your kind as well. Tell me, for my memory is weakened from time. I would know what you are Sirrah.~
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: The daemon stepped forward a bit, highly intrigued at this point, and he gave the dragoness a closer inspection. If she looked closely, the dragon would notice the wisps of white essences that drifted over his dark red eyes, miniature mouths screaming soundlessly for a release from their eternal imprisonment. It had truly been such a long time since he had met a traditional beast such as this. It was an honor to simply be in the presence of such a powerful force. That draconic voice filled the air once again, "I am certain that there are others left, dragons are not the type of race to die out easily. I, on the other hand, am an arch-daemon. Many years ago, when the dragons flourished, I served under Asmodeus. Our numbers have dwindled, but we are not in such grave danger."<c>
lasandir_starthra_necromancer: Lasandir stretched out for just a moment, and a rush of purplish blood poured from the daemon's back as he sprouted two wings almost instantly. They unfurled to their full twenty foot span, stretching out a bit, for they had been curled up inside of him for quite some time. With a single sweep of the large, bat-like masses, Lasandir lifted into the air so that he was level with the eyes of the dragon. His wings did not beat any longer, yet he remained suspended in the air. Bending low in the air, he bowed so deeply that his hair reached past his toes. "I am Lasandir of Starthra, might you grace me with your name?"
anishal_silveris: Claws embedding within the soil to tear asunder a large portion of the earth, huge gaping hole, flinging her head towards the skies as she let loose another bellow. Indeed lonliness was held in the deep depths of her timbre. Her massive triangular head worked to lower once again , peering at Lasandir below, indeed she had noted his eyes, but payed no heed. She had seen such things before, and the answer to her question simply brought a mental shrug. She would blink, slow and easy those almond eyes would stare upon this one gazing upon her, seeing his Power now, feeling its caress, and yet doing nothing. -c-
anishal_silveris: One would think perhaps that this once Empress of Destruction would pounce at the chance to perhaps wreak carnage again, yet he seemed want of this. Capable surely, much as she, yet holding back the Chaos he could obviously let loose. She showed no inkling of surprise as wings sprouted from his back, as he lifted himself to come to her level, merely allowing the barest hint of a deep, rumbling chuckle. Lids would lower over those limpid pools as she once more inclined her head to him, another huff of heated air to blow about his lengthy mane of snow. ~Well met Lasandir Starthra. I was once known simply as Goddess, yet now I roam with the name Anishal Silveris.~