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The Shadow Knows (closed)

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The Shadow Knows (closed)

Post by Beastie on Sun Apr 11, 2010 3:06 pm

(this post is a simple adventure for Dre that was done in order to explain something that might come into play in a later SL. Does not have to be read but if is I hope it is enjoyed.)

Kyra had went off on a secret mission, or that was what she told him. He smiled as he thought of how much like her mother and him she really was. He thanked the Fates that she got her mother's looks and not his. He knew how hard it was to have the bloodline he did, and to look as he did. He sat on the floor as he thought about this, also thinking about how good it was to see the Furball, Maddie, and Venis again. Maddie had grown more, into a beautiful woman. But he also knew she could be deadly and more than likely had her father's temper.

Looks and a temper, now that was a bad combo on a woman, and one his daughter seemed to have gotten as well. Seems he and his Blade brother were more alike than they thought. His mother was looking good, even in old age. He may not have liked how things have been between them and such, but he was glad she was happy and she seemed to be at peace. It also seemed that Kyra had spent some time with her that pleased him a great deal.

He thought about Gawain. Something there troubled him, as if he had been fighting against something. As if a part of him was missing.

He knew that everything looked fine with him physically. As for his magicks went, we he knew special items were needed for that. That was one way that he and Gawain differed, but not much. Each had learned more about how the other worked their magicks that they could almost intertwine them together and use either method without thinking. He knew he needed more lessons for some of the things he needed to know, something about the elements that men were stronger in then women. That would come with time though.

He sat int he middle of the floor- for once making sure his loincloth covered him fully. He thought a moment at his abnormality. How he did not fully shift into the forms he wanted. How in one form he kept his forked tongue, how in his shadow he kept his red eyes, and in this form.....well some things remained humanoid. He took a moment and thought about his wings, and even the strange shift into his demigod form. Vith the Dances he could do in that form. He knew at some point he would have to succumb and accept teachings in that form or he would be a danger to those he loved. But that was later.

Right now his mind was still on Gawain. What was missing from him? He thought and thought. Meditating quietly, losing himself to the world around him. Listening and becoming all he could. He knew that Gawain came from a different plane of existence, after all that is what Rhy'Din was; the cross roads of the planes.

Then it hit him; there was another cross roads of planes but one with even more options. For his friend he had to find out what was going on, so he began to concentrate. His scales beginning to meld together, well maybe not meld. He actually seemed to be melting, as if all the contours of his body seeming to melt into a black mass. As if his frame was made of wire and someone had taken that wire away. Now there was just a black mass with red orbs looking up into the world. Words came from the black mass, "Veldrin ja'hai uns'aa h'uena mzild."(Shadows accept me once more.)

At this point the world began to shake and rumble. Something was wrong. Something was not right. This transformation was not going as the others. What was that shadowy mist he saw? it was gone and now he was fully encompassed in the shadow realm, but he was not at the inn. He seemed to be in the ruins of a city. It seemed to have been a great city. He began to walk around, though he still felt that presence. It was like a hunger; vast and endless. Wishing and wanting to devour anything and everything. He looked around and found an old city sign, Airdhol. Why did that seem so familiar to him?

He thought maybe it was something Gawain mentioned. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Shadar Logoth. He was in some serious stuff here. Why had the fates brought him here? What did this place have to do with Gawain?

That is when he felt the shadows grow hungrier, right after he had unintentionally started to weave the threads of Wynd. He was in trouble now. Could he face Mashadar here in the shadow realm? He had heard how strong it was in a real world. Vith he was stupid at times.

Quickly Beastie, think. What is it you know about this being? These thoughts were going through his head. He remembered it hated things Gawain called the Darkspawn, and channelers. That is why it had to be after him, mistaking him for one or both of those things.

He knew that his banefire; something along the line of balefire that was done by dragons; would not work here. But he was not going to let this thing get the best of him. He had to protect Kyra. He was definitely no one’s lunch. His rage boiling in him, the threads of Wynd changing around him. The Wynds gave forth to threads of Fyre, but this fyre was different. It was contaminated with the shadows around him. Almost as if Mashadar itself was feeding it. He realized this as he unleashed the fire at Mashadar, watching it strike full force with him roaring. “BARRA CHATH!” A sound was heard, but was it from him or the shadows. He did not know, but he was not sticking around to find out. He returned to the physical world. Out of breath, battered, and his mind racing. He went seeking answers and gained more trouble. He had to consult someone to find out what he had down and went seeking the dragon spirit’s. After what seemed like a century, he returned to his body. A smile creasing his scaly snout. Shadow fire. That is what they had called it. A fire the opposite of banefire. A fire that was as black as the shadows, as hot as the sun, and ripped the spirit from the body of the being it was aimed at. Leaving that being as vegetable. Easily forgotten and scorned over time. He had gotten his answer on how to help Gawain, for now he had a new weapon in his armory to help that furball.

He needed a drink, and knew only one thing would help right now. He headed for the cellar and went for his stash of his father's drink.

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Age : 40
Location : Whereever there is a Dance to dance

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