Greetings!
So the past two months have been slow. Combination of beginning a new job and a second baby being born. But my werewithal to our roleplaying hobby has not faltered! This blog is not dead, expect more content soon (if intermittent).
dinsdag 13 augustus 2019
Parley between a Gold Dragon and two Elves
"A dragon! An ancient one, by the looks of it. Gold." Prince Leolar's eyes went wide. Although he had seen dragons before in his years, even fought and survived them, never before did he witness as magnificent a creature as now descended from the twilit sky amidst the Elven forces. All around him, the Elven Citizen Guards threw down their polearms and shields as they fled in terror from the great golden foe. Leolar felt his legs beginning to quiver, an acid taste at the back of his mouth. His shield slipped from his grasp. He became aware of a warm feeling in his groin area.
"Don't worry, its perfectly natural, it could happen to anybody." The voice was cool, distant. The voice of his Queen, his Lady, Ylsandre of the Ageless Ashtree. Leolar didn't know if the comment was referencing him wetting his breeches or their men fleeing the field.
The dragon landed ahead of them, generating a gale that threw the Elven siege engines on their sides. When it landed, it crouched low to the ground, flattening its wings. But then it rose, sitting back on two feet and uncoiling, like a great golden serpent spreading the dawn. The red twilight sunlight gleamed on the golden scales of the dragon. Its eyes blazed with an azure light. Golden radiance filled the fields around Antissa, a feeling equal measures serenity and dread spread from the dragon. As fear of the dragon and panic spread throughout the besieging Elven forces, Leolar felt increasingly lonely.
"It seems we are not left a choice," Queen Ylsandre said. Her violet eyes gazed adamantly upon the gold dragon. "We should..."
A roar boomed, echoing off the walls of Antissa, the dragon, finally announcing its presence.
"GREETINGS, MORTALS. I HAVE BEEN SENT BY HE WHO JUDGES. MY NAME IS GRUEMAR, I AM THE VOICE. AND I HAVE ONE REQUEST. WITHDRAW. CONCEDE TO THIS REQUEST, OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES."
Leolar found it increasingly hard to swallow. "What should we do?" The possibility of defeat hadn't entered his mind when they encircled Antissa, home of the hated humans that left the Elven people to rot. But now...
Ylsandre answered. "What else can we do? We should give noble Gruemar what he wants. After all, he is an emissary of the gods. I will offer myself up as hostage."
That took Leolar aback. "Hostage? But you are of the old blood! What about..." Ylsandre interrupted him.
"Indeed I am. But it will secure free passage for our kin. And as one door closes, other doors may open." Ylsandre, Queen of the Ageless Ashtree, strode forward into reach of Gruemar the Voice of Bahamut, the imposing ancient Gold Dragon. Leolar found his shield, preparing for a new journey.
"Don't worry, its perfectly natural, it could happen to anybody." The voice was cool, distant. The voice of his Queen, his Lady, Ylsandre of the Ageless Ashtree. Leolar didn't know if the comment was referencing him wetting his breeches or their men fleeing the field.
The dragon landed ahead of them, generating a gale that threw the Elven siege engines on their sides. When it landed, it crouched low to the ground, flattening its wings. But then it rose, sitting back on two feet and uncoiling, like a great golden serpent spreading the dawn. The red twilight sunlight gleamed on the golden scales of the dragon. Its eyes blazed with an azure light. Golden radiance filled the fields around Antissa, a feeling equal measures serenity and dread spread from the dragon. As fear of the dragon and panic spread throughout the besieging Elven forces, Leolar felt increasingly lonely.
"It seems we are not left a choice," Queen Ylsandre said. Her violet eyes gazed adamantly upon the gold dragon. "We should..."
A roar boomed, echoing off the walls of Antissa, the dragon, finally announcing its presence.
"GREETINGS, MORTALS. I HAVE BEEN SENT BY HE WHO JUDGES. MY NAME IS GRUEMAR, I AM THE VOICE. AND I HAVE ONE REQUEST. WITHDRAW. CONCEDE TO THIS REQUEST, OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES."
Leolar found it increasingly hard to swallow. "What should we do?" The possibility of defeat hadn't entered his mind when they encircled Antissa, home of the hated humans that left the Elven people to rot. But now...
Ylsandre answered. "What else can we do? We should give noble Gruemar what he wants. After all, he is an emissary of the gods. I will offer myself up as hostage."
That took Leolar aback. "Hostage? But you are of the old blood! What about..." Ylsandre interrupted him.
"Indeed I am. But it will secure free passage for our kin. And as one door closes, other doors may open." Ylsandre, Queen of the Ageless Ashtree, strode forward into reach of Gruemar the Voice of Bahamut, the imposing ancient Gold Dragon. Leolar found his shield, preparing for a new journey.
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