Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Thu Aug 17, 2017 1:46 PM, Post Subject: From The Depths (Plot, PM to join!)

The shores of Nyella were a place particularly unknown to Dalanesca.  She, of course, knew of its existence, but nothing had drawn her to visit the area.  Perhaps she would have never stepped foot anywhere near the sea, had it not been for Story.  When he had returned to her and told her of his impending battle, she had immediately volunteered her services.  He had seemed rather worried about what the outcome of said battle would be, and in turn, this caused Dalanesca to worry.  He had just come back to her, and she had finally been able to see him, to touch him once more.  She did not want to allow him to traipse off and put his life on the line without offering her assistance.  

The Reaper had made several preparations before departing Porta Inferni.  She had one of her smiths, a man she had pulled from the Circle of Greed who had been a smith in his former life, craft her some particularly interesting new blades.  The metal was something entirely unseen, gleaming black like obsidian.  Red veins ran through the blade, imbued with Hellfire straight from Inferos itself.  While the imbuement did not cause her enemies to combust, the amount of damage she inflicted with these intricate weapons was much higher than that of a normal blade.

A different location called for different apparel.  Dalanesca no longer donned the usual attire of a skirt and formed corset.  She was clothed instead in practical armor, crafted of black leather.  A cape hung from one shoulder, while a weapon harness was attached to the opposite side.  Her dark hair was tied back in a tight braid, a tactical choice so it would not get in her way.  

The goddess appeared on the shores of Nyella in time to see Story standing on the dock, not yet having taken flight.  She held a thin blade at her side, for posShe made no motion nor call to make him aware of her presence, instead standing back and watching from afar as the ghostly wings sprouted from his back.  As he rose into the sky, disappearing into the cloud cover, she whispered softly, her grip tightning on the hilt of her sword.  "Fly safe, my love."

Author: Story, Posted: Mon Aug 7, 2017 5:01 AM, Post Subject: From The Depths (Plot, PM to join!)

Storms, according to some circles of superstition, often accompanied terrible events. Particularly violent ones especially, such as the thunderstorm that raged over the erratically crashing waves of Nyella. Even the most salty and wizened sailors could not divine what legend of the deep the foaming and booming heralded….though, the tale was known to one soul, upon the shores in Vilpamolan.

Story stood upon the docks, indigo gaze cast contemplatively out over the troubled waters. Ship hands and merchants shouted and scrambled about in the torrential rain, getting their shipments under cover and retreating to the cabins, or took to the city streets to get to the tavern. It was only early evening on this Summer's eve, but the sky had already gone ominously black - darker than what mere cloud cover could provide. Though the wind howled, and the downpour was constant, the lone, dark man at the pier seemed unbothered by it all. He did not even attempt to pull his overcoat more tightly about his frame. At his sides, a whip, and an oddly hefty-looking, though elegant saber or rapier-like blade in a scabbard shifted in the wind.

The man that faced the storm knew the cause of it all.

Nature was restless. Blasphemous things were said to rise from the depths on this particular day. One such thing was tied to the vigilant dragon - a cathedral from another era…so long-forgotten now, that it may well be from another world. Heretical magic from the void was taught to mortal men there. Blood was spilled. It was a place of odd reverence where men became beasts far worse than the ones that lorded over them, the umbral dragons. Monarchs of the time accepted the strange creatures' dark gifts, and soon passed it off to their entire courts. It was no surprise that Story's kind was wiped from the annals of history. They were exterminated, like the plague they were.

He had helped humanity do it, too.

Remnants of the vampiric blood existed today, to be sure; the dragons were not the only source of the affliction. They were just the first to bend the natural laws to will its existence. Story was also certain others like him still lived somewhere out there. There were those of his kin that were much more passive in their ambitions, or, like him, did not agree with the total dominion that the eldest among them, Malchiah, had wanted.

Story had been the ruin of his race, and he had bound his brother many ages ago. These bindings seemed to have come undone recently, and he felt his brother's call now, somewhere midst the sea.

Malchiah had acquired some sort of terrible power, as ancient as he and Story were, though wholly different in nature.

The dragon did not know what to expect from the estranged tyrant. He doubted Mal wanted to throw himself at his feet with open arms. It wasn't in his nature…their nature. Dragons, not just their kind, but all species had a curious perception of time in comparison to humanity. Everything remained remarkably fresh in the memory - hence a dragon's penchant to hold grudges.




Shimmering, colorful lights formed at Story's back, gradually taking the form of ethereal wings. They lifted him up over the docks, and into the dark clouds above to allow him to change shape safely. The dragon's ebony scaled flesh was even darker than it was when he took the shape of a man. Story could scarcely be seen, aside from the soft luminescence of his vast wings in the clouds, and the terrifying outline that was shown whenever lightning would flash.  He descended somewhat when he was well away from the docks, only hoping none had witnessed his ascent and subsequent transformation.

This was the perfect night for such a strange confrontation on an island of myth. Only the foolish would dare sail in conditions like these.

Story circled about the endless crashing waves, heading gradually northeast until he could spot a structure above the water.