The Time of Dragons, an Magic.. *All welcome*

[AmenRa]

O'Bonn dropped to the ground, flattening himself as he heard the whistle of arrows over his head. And not just any arrows, but Dwarven arrows.

Skilled craftspeople, the dwarves built everything with durability and fervor. Much was to be said of their weapons, and Dwarven armor was highly sought after. The chain mail shirt O'Bonn wore was made by the Dwarves.

These thoughts were on his mind as he heard the thud of arrows striking home.

He heard Thelron shout for them to cease, and when he looked up, he saw the remains of their fulisade. Ogres lay stacked like chord wood.

The High Warrior stood with a smile. He brushed the dust from his leather breeches. Turning, he saw a newcomer, a beautiful one indeed, making her flowing hair into a braid. Perhaps she was the magic of the fire?

He bowed politely. "I am O'Bonn, High Warrior and son of M'Rhun," he introduced himself.

 

[Screech]

With a 'yipe', Gar had dived onto the ground as soon as a small contingent of Dwarves had levelled crossbows, loosed their bolts, and levelled the Ogres! Oh how he hated bows, crossbows, darts, slings..... Well, in fact, Gar didn't like most things that were sharpened and had the ability to be thrown, launched or fired. Especially when they were aimed at him.

Satisfied that the archery was now over with, Gar clambered back to his feet, trying hard to regain his composure. However, something else gave him a shock, and that was that there was now another person nearby who wasn't there before! She was quite attractive, but the fact that she was standing where before there had been no-one, and looked so calm just spooked him a little. She must know magic, and magic, when used by others, is a tad frightening...

 

[Mantra]

Before the gates of the Keep...

The dwarvish volley struck true, felling many of the beasts and setting the others to heel. After the first volley, the first rank of dwarves dropped their crossbows, each drawing out a round shield and axe or hammer, steadying themselves for any other fight. Behind the wall of muscle and metal, the second rank quickly wound their bows, setting a second set of barbs before bringing them to bear on the party.

"Oi! Who be you lot and whatch ye want here?" one called.

"Hold your weapons, forman." called another voice.
Another man, this one similar to the 'Herald' seen earlier, but without horns nappeared. He was tall and proud looking, with dark hair, golden eyes and long, golden wings folded along his back. He wore a pair of brown, leather pants and a lacy white shirt as he regarded the group and placed one hand on the shoulder of the dwarvish forman.
"They are not a threat. See to the ogres and drive them back off the mountain."

The dwarf nodded. "Aye, lord Drakkon." he said gruffly, ordering his group to move off.
Soon the small band was alone save for the new arrival who took them all in with his sharp eyes.
"You are the associates of Idrial Two-Bloods, yes? What can we do for you?"

 

[Dracona]

"Greetings, O'Bonn, son of M'Rhun."

Ona smiled slightly at his courtly bow and felt an odd compulsion to return the gesture in some fashion, as if at one time this had been a common way she would have been greeted.

"I am Ona..." She paused knowing that her response was lacking. All she could give was a name, and one that she wasn't even sure was hers at that. A final spark snapped from the end of her braid as she flicked it back over her shoulder and she shrugged. It was all she had to give however. Her gaze moved to the werewolf curiously and she sensed his reserve. She nodded to him, trying to project an unthreatening aura. His heightened senses would surely be able to tell she was friend and not foe.

Ona turned to face the dwarves and the weapons they now had trained on them and stiffened. Her first instinct was to distract them from her presence and basically dissappear but she doubted she could, especially with so many. And if she was throwing her lot in with this band then she had to stand with them now.

Then another appeared and Ona's blue within blue eyes widened. She stared at this golden being and took a step closer to the Elven warriors and the werewolf. Had she ever seen such a creature before? There was no way of knowing. She glanced at her new companions, barely aware of the dwarves leaving the area in pursuit of the remaining ogres.

 

[Keldun_Rae]

Walking towards the gathering people, Thelron bows deeply and then pulls back his hood.

"Well met once more, O'Bonn. For those of you who I have not yet met, I am Therlon Do'Urden, of house Do'Urden out of Menzoberanzen. I mean no harm to any of you, and in fact, O'Bonn can vouche on my behalf."

 

[Screech]

Gar's eyes widened at the words of the Drow. He was a Do'Urden! Obviously that particular house had a bit of a problem with it's mental state, as this was the second of that house to venture above ground (and not in an attempt to stab in the back), the first being Drizzit. "So. Do'Urden are ya? Then surely you've heard of a friend of mine. Went by the name of Damien De'Vir, of the Drow house of De'Vir."

The woman with the fiery hair seemed a little uneasy about the numbers around her, and she had stepped closer to the small party. He has going to keep an eye on her for sure! Fire tends to hurt...

Compleatly ignoring the winged one who had just arrived, Gar turned and walked over to the fallen Ogres. The beasts tended not to have much, but occasionally they have some good stolen loot

 

[AmenRa]

O'Bonn nodded to the dragonkind that had come forth from the keep.

"We are, my lord," he said. The High Warrior had no need to introduce himself, as he had no doubt that the high creature smelled him, and knew who he was. He stepped closer to Drakkon and bowed respectfully.

"There has been nothing but death as of late. An attack by a creature of the undead in the village two nights ago. And attacks by creatures of wolves. I fear these things have bearing on the man-child. I seek counsel with the One Of Great Wisdom."

He gestured towards the others. "These are my friends and they accompany me."

 

[Mystical Avalon]

From the Shadows

Morrigann had watched the battle from behind shadow as she had since being banished here in death. She kept open the sight that would show her the High Warrior. What connection? She knew not. But she was bidden to him and was to aide him when necessary. More now in shadow than in living.

High warrior, you must not as of yet divulge your mind to these creatures. For what they seek, they shall take and leave the rest wanting. You must gueard your thoughts . There are others whom wish to desrtoy yet why I have not forseen. You must be careful for the path you are now wandering is not safe for you nor your companions.

Morrigann felt the energy slip from her as she presented herself inside his mind. She hoped it was not to late for she feared a great danger not only to him but to those in his company. Ogres were the least of their worries.

 

[Hun1918]

"Tell human where can i find this Cult you speak about hissed Malus and heard of people like you and i suppose you want payment".

And toss a few copper coins to the floor in front of the man and watch him bend down.

And thrust his clawed hand into the mans chest and ripped out his still beating heart out of him and eat it.

"I do not pay but take what i want foolish human and you make a good undead servant hissed Malus".

"For i am a Necromancer and i know the lore of bring the dead back to life and soon i build a new army and i will bring order to this misable world".

A green glow appeared from malus eyes and green dark energy zapped from malus staff into the poor man body.

 

[Dracona]

Ona smiled and bowed her head slightly in greeting to the dark elf, glancing between the warriors and the golden winged creature as they spoke.

"There is a pack of wolven creatures lying in wait in the forest." She added softly. "We passed through them to reach you here....another ambush, I suspect, in the event that this one failed."

Ona reached out a small stream of consciousness to locate Bardo in the forest. He stood right where she had left him, obediently waiting until she called. His head came up as she touched his simple mind and he began to make his way to her. His nose picked up the scent of battle and it made him nervous, but he knew that with her there was saftey.

A shiver passed over her, as if a chill wind had blown past, and she focused her eyes on the one called O'Bonn. There were unseen forces at work here and she would keep her own counsel on them. In the years since finding herself in the forest Ona had lived by her instincts and come to rely on them. So far they had not let her down. This was the path she must take and the people she must place her trust in, even if she was uncertain at times.

The clip clop of hooves sounded and she turned to see Bardo's absurdely long face peeking around a boulder at her. She went to him, checking over the bundles he carried on his back and then standing with her fingers curled in his stiff mane watching and listening.

 

[Keldun_Rae]

Studying those around him, Thelron remains quiet for the time being. He takes in each person present, seeking to determine what they may be capable of. O'Bonn, he spends less time studying, having met him once before. But this Ona person, he watched closer than the others.

 

[Mantra]

At the Keep

Gar kept one eye on the newcommer and one eye on his looting. The ogres smelled even worse up close and dead than alive, but at least they weren't as potentially painful. For the most part, he contented with letting O'Bonn and the others do the talking while he did the looking.

"There has been nothing but death as of late. An attack by a creature of the undead in the village two nights ago. And attacks by creatures of wolves. I fear these things have bearing on the man-child. I seek counsel with the One Of Great Wisdom. These are my friends and they accompany me." Said O'Bonn.

Gar meanwhile had gone through most of the ratty bags and pockets as he could get to. Most of what he found were a collection of bizarre odds and ends which only might interest a pack of ogres, but there were a handful of gold coins as well. Also, each ogre had one ot two, sometimes three, octogon shaped tiles made of onyx with them. Each tile was about four inches in diameter and had a silver symbol or pictograph in the center.

Drakkon nodded in greeting. "You speak truer words than you know, NightBlade, but there will be time enough for that I think. Many come to see the Matriarch and she even agrees to see some of them in return. Perhaps she will speak with you if she favors it. Until then, let your friends step forward and speak their names to me if they will."

"There is a pack of wolven creatures lying in wait in the forest." She added softly. "We passed through them to reach you here....another ambush, I suspect, in the event that this one failed." Ona almost whispered, tending to Bardo who semed notably reluctant to come any nearer the keep or the winded man in front of them.

"There is more than just Wolven waiting for you all in those woods." Drakkon anwsered ominously. "Especially if you are accompanying Idrial Two-Bloods, but come, enter the keep and be warm. The snows will likely return this night."

 

[Mantra]

Malus

"Tell human where can i find this Cult you speak about hissed Malus and heard of people like you and i suppose you want payment".

The man, simply raised one arm, pointing down the same road they both stood on.
"Follow. There will be those whom you can journey with and if you are deemed worthy, then perhaps the cult will find you, but we have no need for payment O Lord. In time, you will come to pay what we are owed."

The man made no attempt to retrieve the coins tossed to his feet, but neither did he try to save himself, if he had the means to at all, when Malus's hand smashed through his ribcage. Instead he mearly grunted in pain, doubling over Malus's arm and falling lifelessly to the muddy ground as the lich ripped his heart free from it's housing.
The blood was warm, salty and sticky, reminding Malus of food and drink from when his body still needed to replenish itself before his power had brought about immortality. Dropping what remained of his victim, Malus worked a little magic of his own. The green foxfire settled on the body, working itself inwards and making the body twitch, then stir, then finally push itself upright, finally standing before Malus, waiting in spite of the gaping wound in it's chest.

 

[Dracona]

Ona felt the cautious scrutiny of the dark elf and the werewolf and, although she understood, it made her even more nervous. A small pile of dry leaves along the wall nearby began to smolder as she fiddled idly with Bardo’s mane. Deep calming breaths, she reminded herself, take deep calming breaths. She stayed silent and still as she regained her composure. The wisps of smoke starting to curl from the leaves drifted away and she relaxed. She glanced around, hoping her temporary lapse had gone unnoticed, and squared her shoulders. Her blue gaze settled on the golden winged man and she took two steps toward him.

“I am Ona. I know nothing of a man-child, or about one of two bloods,” she said, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. “And yes, there is great evil, in the forest and beyond, and its focus is here. Its strength grows with each day that passes. I could feel it…so I came to offer what assistance I am able to give.”

Her hand unconsciously reached for the familiarity of Bardo’s mane and he stepped up under her hand. The sounds of the werewolf rummaging through the pockets of the ogres distracted her from the golden gaze and she flicked a quick look his way. The shiny black tiles he pocketed were a curiosity, there was something strange about them. But she was sure that once they were all inside there would be questions and answers and maybe she would find out just what it was they were all up against.

 

[rengadeirishman]

OOC Intro:
Name: Cormach Dragonheart
race:barbarian (human)
class: Hunter
height: 6'
weapons: Spear, Longbow, Sword, Hunting Knife

A member of a fierce barbarian tribe, he was outcast for killing his brother who was a traitor, though he could not prove it. He stalks the wilderness, hunting, and protecting travelers. He once fought and killed a great bear with only his hunting knife.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"hmm" cormach said, studying the print in the ground, this may be the largest wolf i have ever tracked he thought to himself. The track was bigger then his hand and sunk deep. All of a sudden he heard someone else in the nearby, quickly making a mark in the nearest tree with his knife so he could pick up the trail again, he rushed off towards the sound. Silent as a forest wildcat

 

[AmenRa]

O'Bonn gestured for the others to follow as he made his way deeper into the keep. He would keep heed to Drakkon's words: the High Warrior had no wish for more snow or killing now. O'Bonn turned to Thelron and tossed the Drow a small whetstone from his pack. There seemed to be something with Elves and sharpening of weapons after battle. O'Bonn knew the assassin would likely have his own stone, but the gesture was one that warriors often made after battling together.

O'Bonn looked around the keep as he made his way. He had never been here, to the Keep of Thorn. Though some of his kin had, O'Bonn had never actually set foot in The Sanctuary. Oh, he had seen the great dragon alright. It had been many, many, many years ago. O'Bonn was but a child, a warrior-learner. It was the end of the Last Battle of P'Lainak, when the alliance of Elf and Man had stood against the warlords of the Warlands. O'Bonn stood beside his father, the king M'Rhun, standing atop a great plateau, where other leaders of Man, Centaur, and great creatures put their marks upon a stone, setting a vow of peace and friendship among them. It was raining that day, and O'Bonn and the others were sheltered from the pelting downpour by an outstretched wing of Thorn herself.

O'Bonn smiled to himself as he remembered gazing up at the great dragon. Thorn caught his stare.....and she winked.

The vow had never been broken. O'Bonn would see that it never was. This evil that followed them now would fall.

And Morrigann's presence haunted him with words once again. He would be cautious. Among the dragons, he was among friends whose loyalty was without question. This was written in blood. As for the others, those he had just met, only time would tell.

 

[Keldun_Rae]

While watching those around him closely, Thelron follows O'Bonn and the others deeper into the Keep. He makes careful note of their route in case he should need to find his own way out.

 

[AmenRa]

The Fay Hound

The majai-hi kept pace with O'Bonn, his flanks brushing against the High Warrior's leg as they walked. The fay hound was not afraid, yet he entered the keep with some trepidation. The beings in this place, like himself, were shrouded in powerful auras. He could sense his kin, the fay, moving within the walls of the rocks, the ground, the very fires that burned in the torchieres.

He could sense a change in O'Bonn's thoughts since they had entered.

You have become quiet, Warrior. What troubles you?

O'Bonn looked down to the silvery-white wolf-dog. "There are things that have come to pass that have not been forseen. The attack on me at the inn troubles me. Necromancy is at work here."

The majai-hi was quiet for a bit, then spoke into O'Bonn's thoughts again. Why did the Dragonkind call you Nightblade?

"It is their name for me. I can not speak it in their tongue. I am bound to the Dragonkind by honor as a High Warrior."

You mean bound by the Old Ways?

The High Warrior merely nodded as they continued their walk.

The majai-hi knew it was right for the Fay to usher him forth to bond with this Elf. The High Warrior O'Bonn was strong and faithful, and knew of the Old Ways....the Old Magic, the laws weaved into being when the Fay and Dragonkind were young. The others, he now knew, would make good as his friends as well.

 

[Mantra]

Drakkon led the small group up the snow covered trail and into the inner courtyard. The donkey, Bardo, tugged and breyed, clearly not wanting anything to do with the winged ones or the mountain and had to be soothed and coaxed by Ona at every turn.
The gates leading into the mountain were still open, although the first recognized dragon-man, the so-named Herald, Phalanx still waited, his golden eyes peering down at them as he perched on the wall above. As they passed into the keep, he dropped down behind them, falling the twenty odd feet and landing without any effort before straightening and following them in. Drakkon led them into a great hall where the smell of roasting meats was in the air and great fires heated the room almost to a uncomfortable level. There were dwarves as well as some humans sitting at long tables, eating abd drinking, but Drakkon did not approach them, only waving and nodding in greeting. Instead the group was ushered to similar long tables with padded benches Drakkon sat at the end, where he could face either side and bade them all sit. The second dragonman did not join them, but place himself at the entrance arms folded across his chest and watched.

"Please, come and sit with me. There is food and drink if you do not mind roasted meat and meade. I would be honored to hear of your tales and stories."

 

[Screech]

Gar followed everyone into the giant keep, his nerves constantly on edge with all the dragonkind around. Thank Lornak that he had stashed those tiles quickly! The gold he intended to share out, even if there wasn't much there - had to keep up the image of nobility,

It was getting noticably hotter the furthur into the keep they went, and it was an uncomfortable heat, especially for one such as he with all his fur, armour, and clothing. It was offset pleasantly by the smell of roasted meats, however.

Setting himself down at the table, he did his best to look as uninteresting as possable when compared to the others. Mind you, that in itsself would be a feat what with being the only warewolf in the group...

 

[Dracona]

Ona had followed along with the others, her eyes trying to dart everywhere at once. The presence of so many beings, the closeness of the stone walls, and the steady gaze of the second winged man seemed to press in on her in an almost threatening manner. Bardo's nervousness reflected her own and she could do nothing to calm him, it was taking all of her concentration to keep herself calm.

There was a shadowed corner near the table where they were led and Ona left Bardo there. He seemed more at ease out of sight. Almost she wished she could stay there with him. She could feel the glances and stares of curiosity their group attracted. She removed her traveling cloak and lay it over the bundles on Bardo's back before turning to face the large hall. Out of habit she checked the wide leather bands she wore at each wrist ensuring that they were properly covering the marks branded into the soft flesh there. She didn't know how they had gotten there, but the sight of them triggered intense anger in her....and shame.

Taking a seat at the long table she glanced once more around the hall before following the other's lead and helping herself from the various serving dishes. She was a practical woman after all.

 

[AmenRa]

Food! At last, cooked food! Real and unaltered by magic or dream, it was the first time O'Bonn had eaten more than Elven bread and tea since he came upon the village of Kant, where he had followed Idrial's trail.

He piled a serving plate with roast and a cup he filled with water from a pitcher. Mead would not serve him well now, for if he was to meet with Thorn he wanted to do so with a clear head.

O'Bonn nodded to Drakkon, and between mouthfulls of roast, thanked him.

 

[Keldun_Rae]

Shakes his head a little sadly at O'Bonns failure to ensure the safety of the food before eating. For himself, he takes three slices of meat, two potatoes, and an assortment of other vegetables which he then tests with magic to ensure that it is safe to eat. Pouring himself a glass of mead, he then repeats the spell to ensure it's safe as well.

 

[Hun1918]

Malus and his undead servent walked along the muddy road towards the outskirts of a small village with a wooded wall around it and were clearly guarded.
But Malus had no interested in the living just yet and was more interested in the graveyard outside the village and thrust his Ivory staff into the earth and watch the night drew nearer.
“Soon my servent dark energy will soon reach it peak of its power and I shell used it to summon a army of the living dead hissed Malus”.

 

[Dracona]

Ona spent the meal listening to the murmur of conversations around her. There was an air of expectancy throughout the hall, as if everyone was waiting for important news. Yet the winged man, Drakkon, seemed unaffected. He was the perfect host, politely seeing to his guest's needs.

A gentle tug on the sleeve of her homespun tunic drew Ona's attention to a small human boy who smiled up at her with a gap toothed expression. He whispered to her that he had been told to take the donkey to the stables, a more suitable place for him to spend his time. She gazed at the boy for a moment, a strange tightness gripping her heart, then she managed a smile. Excusing herself from her companions she followed the boy and together they led Bardo from the great hall, truly no place for a lowly donkey.

The stables were still inside the mountain keep, the stone roof high above in shadows. It seemed strange to one used to being in the free open air. She could imagine the tons of earth and stone above, pressing down on them.

She led Bardo into a nice little stall and began removing the bundles she had strapped to his back. The boy brought sweet clover hay and a bowl filled with a warm oat mash...just the things Ona had used to tempt the donkey here in the first place. There was fresh straw on the floor and a trough filled with clear, fresh water. She spied a grooming brush on a shelf nearby and with a mental flick brought it bobbing through the air to her hand. A small gasp from the boy brought a faint smile to her lips and she wondered if perhaps use of personal magic was common here. The expression on the boy's face though was delight, so it must not be that odd for him to see. Something about his smile caused that strange tightness again, the sweetness and innocence, the sparkle in his eye and the funny gap where a tooth would soon grow in. He reminded her....

A sharp pain lanced through her head, a searing white hot shaft that was there and then gone in an instant. Ona closed her eyes and leaned against the familiar comfort of Bardo's bony shoulder. She couldn't let her mind wander back, she had to focus on the here and now. There was nothing behind her but darkness and pain, nothing worth remembering. This was the litany she had repeated to herself every day after she had found herself wandering the forest. Every time memories tried to push forward and the pain laid her out flat. She had repeated it until the memories stayed safely hidden away in her mind. It was the shield she used to keep herself from wondering where she had been before, who she had been....and why there had been so much blood to be scrubbed away in a forest stream. For an instant she saw her hands, red stained and trembling, pushing through the brush and brambles.

It was the giggle of delight from the boy that brought her back to herself. Ona opened her eyes to see the stable boy staring with wide eyes as everyday items danced and floated around him. Every torch in the stable was flaring brightly, nearly dispelling the shadows above them.

"Damnation...." she whispered to herself. A quick glance around showed no one else in the vicinity. Smiling softly she let the dance of the inanimate continue to entertain the boy as she finished tending to Bardo.