Osthato Chetowä
Expert DragonRider
Joined: March 11th, 2006, 5:51 am Posts: 1687 Location: in my three story brick "trailer" in WV
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The fall of Ohen
OOC: Hello again everyone, long time no see. My ISP has been screwing up for a while now, and then it finally decided to stop working. So anyway, I'm back (I hope). But I am going to make a new RP character after this, and I'm not going to use Siromo and Ohen any more. So to make that RPishly possible, at least one of my characters is going to die. So after I finish this huge post, please don't bring them back to life! Thanks!
IC:
Siromo had told no one of his intentions. He had cloaked himself beyond anyone, save another rider's, or maybe an elf's ability to break. He passed over Palancar valley, and then continued. He was headed straight for Uru Baen. After a week of silent flying, he and Ohen felt ready. Siromo had as many jewels as possible filled with energy; he even had a crystal crown, crafted by the dwarves, upon his head. Looking upon the city, he sighed, and drew his sword. Softly, so only he and his dragon could hear, he said, "for the Riders." And so he sheathed it, and flew. He flew right into the one place he and everyone else he knew dared not go. As he flew over the lower levels, unseen, unheard, and otherwise undetected, he looked down at the people. As unprepared as they looked, he could tell that they could be a major threat later, after he overturned the orderly basis they had always lived by. He located an area that seemed to be full of magic users with his mind as he flew, and headed towards the center. He flew, still undetected, right in front of the king's own palace. There, he dropped some of the stealth spells, and continued. Fortunately the main hallways were designed big enough for a dragon. He pressed onward in silence untill he was almost in the room with the king. He searched the room with his mind, and found two riders. As he had expected. He considered the idea of going through the door by magic, but he decided that he would need his magic later. He, alternatively, reached into the mind of an unsuspecting servant, who picked up a tray of food and took it to the king. As he opened the door, Siromo and Ohen slipped in. The servant left, leaving him alone with the king and the other rider. Gallabatorix took a bite, then stopped. Was it not for the charisma he had developed, he probably would have let it drop back out. The other inhabitant of the room looked up at the king, wondering what had happened. The dragons both looked up in surprise. Siromo knew it was time. He dropped all of his cloaking magics, left only with a few wards he had set up before. The other rider was stunned, but Gallabatorix seemed to have an impervious wall of calm barring his emotions. He stood, and slowly climbed onto shuriekan. He drew his sword, red (whether this was from his first dragon's color, or from blood), and sat for a while. Then Ohen flew, blasting the ceiling with fire, up. Siromo didn't know why, but he found that his companion had withdrawn his consiousness. A bulge seemed to form in Siromo's stomach as he wondered what the dragon was going through. Then, the ceiling shattered. The whole ceiling of the enourmous room, made of the finest stones, flew into the air. But the blast of energy didn't stop. Gallabatorix condensed it and aimed it straight at Siromo. It was too large to stop, he sensed, and he braced himself for the what awaited him in the void as it approached. But then, Ohen flew up as fast as possible. But he was not fast enough. Siromo jumped out of reach, but beneath him, Ohen was caught by him. In the midst of the dreary moment, Ohen opened his mouth, and let out a pillar of flame. The king started to laugh, as the flame was straight into the sky, but the humor left him pale and stunned as the fire began to change. It took the form of a dragon, and flew off into the sky. It flew away from the battle, and was silent. And yet, somehow Siromo percieved that this was a thin ray of hope. He realized that the dragon was headed to get help. People say that a dragon's magic is unmatchable. But that is an understatement. Siromo looked down, and remembered that he had been falling the whole time. He caught himself with magic just in time. He landed right next to a white mountain. Then Siromo seemed to lose control of his body for a moment. Maybe he was temporarily embodied, like in a shade, with the power of a spirit, only a good spirit. Maybe Ohen's power flowed into him. But whatever happened, he did something he didn't even know was possible. A word he couldn't recall if given the chance flowed from his lips, and the world went white for a moment. As the glow faded, the king and his accompanying rider were left alone in the air. They stood there, trying to percieve what had just happened. But even Gallabatorix, the eldest (as far as he knew) dragonrider, and without a doubt the most powerful, could not. The word was beyond his comprehension. And he couldn't tell exactly what the result had been. All he knew was that the enemy dragon's corpse and its rider were gone. He flew back into his castle, and requested to be alone. He put his ceiling back up with magic while he thought. But even as he did, he couldn't figure out what had happened. It still perplexes him.
Siromo woke up, some time later, whether later that day or later that month, near a large white statue. It was of a dragon, and with unmeasurable detailed skill. Then it struck him: this was his dragon. He broke down and started weeping. It was an odd sight, and elf crying like this, but it was only natural. He stopped and began to stand. But he froze. There was a pair of feet only feet from him. He looked up.
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The Mourning Sage.
The master of tpyos.
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