Eye of the Dragon
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Seyja


He thoughts had gone directly to the small token hanging from a thong around her neck as soon as the wyrm had mentioned scrimshaw. She did not want to lose it, could not imagine giving it away, but Weston's selflessness touched her somehow, made her feel less noble than him.

She leaned her greataxe against her hip and reached up with both hands and untied the thong and then extended its pendant, a carved and filigreed bear's molar toward the dragon.

"This handicraft was made by a gypsy grandmother, the woman who all but adopted me... became my second mother in deed if not in fact."Seyja blinked several times.

"She is dead now and it is all I have of hers."

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<Weston>

He gave a nod of appreciation to Almador for his offer and the others. But clearly the dragon wanted =his= ring. But he had already reconciled parting with it. But how was he going to get it to the dragon. He wasn't sure which was worse ... giving up the ring or having to deliver it. He took a deep breath and walked out of the cave and toward the cold, grumpy looking mountain that was the dragon.


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Tindarien

Seeing Weston walk out of the cave presumably to deliver the token, he gestures to Nestaron to come with him. He moves to a position where he has line of sight. Maybe his magic and Nestaron's healing can support Weston - if he needs it.

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Nestaron

He was standing around the cave mouth, so he ducked next to Tindarien when beckoned.

"Something is not right here." He said to his elven friend quickly and quietly, "Why has the Beast singled out Weston's ring? You don't seriously believe it admires handicrafts? The last time it visited a haberdashery, was probably to massacre the entire street, if what Jex says is true."

Hearing Seyja offer the pendant, Nestaron was struck with an idea. Pulling himself to his feet with his staff, he held it out to hopefully delay Weston. The cleric's beard was frosted but he kept the quaiver from his voice.

"You asked us if we wanted to trade, master dragon, so here we are. But you've yet to see our best ware! We have a healing potion of rare potency, brewed and bottled by gypsies of the North."

He glanced sideways at Jex, then back to the dragon. The wounded dragon.

"It - It would benefit you far more than a ring, I think."

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Zoltan

He hears Nestaron's comment and nods slightly. He too had been bothered by the conversation with the dragon. He wondered if it had gone insane after it's long life, or if there was more to Weston's ring than he knew.

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He smirked at the comments and sctions. He should have suspected something was amiss. After all thar was his stock in trade. Especially after the strange fae wind they experienced. He looked to where he would watch the proceedings if he were orchestrating this charade.

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Jex
After his friends kept telling him that something was amiss, the bard closed his eyes and when he opened them, he disbelieved what his eyes were seeing and his ears were hearing. If they were illusions, he hoped that they would go away.

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<Weston>

He paused as Nestaron used his staff to bar his way. He wasn't sure why they were suddenly so worried about =his= ring. But he had learned to trust his friends and knew they had a good reason. He was willing to go along with them ... for now. He would =not= let them all die to protect a silly bit of jewlery. No matter how important =he= thought it was, it was not worth any of their lives.


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GM

There was a dreadful, spine-jangling scraping noise as the dragon's dragged its talons across the bedrock and into a fist.

"I will have no need of healing once I have the ring!!" It roared in frustration.

A freezing cloud billowed from its maw, its tail lashed, uprooting and flinging trees into the air. Debris fell from the roof of cave as one of its fists slammed down in front of the cave. Sergeant Almador cried out as a falling rock put a dent in his kettle hat.

Illusion or not, the man-at-arm's steel headgear believed it.

The embers of the camp-fire died and the cave plunged into darkness.

The white wyrm lunged forwards and you felt the deathly cold in your lungs as you breathed and its one eye fixed upon you.

"Trading has closed for the night. Give me the Aurenaur NOW!"

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Seyja


It wasn't scrimshaw, it wasn't handicrafts in which the great wyrm was interested, Seyja finally understood, feeling foolish and perhaps a little slow in coming to this conclusion.

What was so special about Weston's ring?

She stepped forward to flank Weston and help defend him if necessary.

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<Weston>

"I don't know anything about an Aurenaur, but leave my friends alone or you shall have nothing", he shouted as he took a step past Nestaron's blocking staff.


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That was the answer, and with it, the pale dark elf moved silently to flank the huge beast. Whether or not he would survive didn't matter, but he might end a legend, that would be worth something.

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Tindarien

As the dragon gets angry, Tindarien tenses ready to fight but then stiffens in surprise as the Dragon names Weston's ring. A second later he talks rapidly to Weston.

"He must have detected the magic in the ring. Aurenaur is Elven. The symbol I carry is the Aurenaur e Du, roughly translated as Sunfire in the Darkness. I don't know if these are connected but I think your ring may be powerful."

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<Weston>

He stopped at Tindarien's assessment of his 'keepsake'. "What does that mean", he asked trying to make sense of all this. "Do we need to fight the dragon to keep this from him?"


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Zoltan

"Have you ever tried putting it on?" He asks Weston casually. "Or have you always worn it around your neck on a thong?"

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<Weston>

"Actually no, I haven't ever put it on", he said. "Do you think I should?"


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Nestaron

"Jex," he said to the bard, urgency in his voice, "can you buy us some time?"

The half-elf looked around at his companions. They looked frigid, but warm up they must, because the dragon was losing its cool.

"Be prepared." He muttered, hefting his staff.

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Jex

"WAIT! You want the Aurenaur? What makes you think that's it? We don't want to disappoint you, oh great white wyrm! And what is a few moments of talk to one as ancient as you - especially if you are about to make a bad mistake. Do all dragons become impatient and sloppy with age?"

He hopes to engage the dragon for a moment. Maybe it'll buy enough time for the others to come up with something.

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Tindarien

"Yes I think you should put it on. If you do not wish to I can do so, but this is your heirloom and you should know what it is. If things turn nasty, it may well help."

He keeps his voice down to a whisper.

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<Weston>

He removed the thong and with a shrug, slipped the ring on his left ring finger.


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GM

The white wyrm gnashed its teeth in reply to Jex, hot orange blood dripping from its neck wound as it watched Weston slide the ring onto his finger.

Weston was suddenly reminded of a time as boy when he'd worn the ring. It had made him feel cold and miserable, like a grey winter's day, dull and damp. At the time he'd attributed it to the echo of memories, and it he hadn't worn it since.

Again, the world seemed a sadder place when the ring was worn, but no further secrets were revealed to Weston until he looked up at the dragon. Its skin was crawling with what appeared to be lice, spectral, glowing sickly green, thousands, tens of thousands, and he saw that each one was a head, a face, twisted in torment and moaning, balefire for tears, with a skeletal fingers sprouted from the neck like insect legs.

Weston felt his own soul turn away from the spectacle, reviled and horrified.

But seeing Weston's expression, the Master of Winter smiled his broadest and wickedest smile yet.

"Yes. Now you see! Forged by elven necromancers from the tip of the White's great horn over three thousand years ago. The Aurenaur!

"For aeons, lost, but now it is mine."

The dragon's eye bulged and spasmed and the monster's scales shuddered. The blood pumped from his neck, steaming and bubbling, and suddenly the fiery depths behind his one eye wavered no more, blossoming into a cold blue radiance.

He lunged, jaws wide and teeth gleaming in the night.

[Starting combat, so let me know your character's disposition.]

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<Weston>

He had forgotten ... or maybe suppressed the memory of that first time he had made the mistake of putting the ring on came. Now it all came flooding back. He shuddered and when he made the mistake of looking in the dragon's direction he shuddered again.

He remembered a time when he had come across a dead fox. At first he didn't realize it was dead. It seemed to be moving. It was only when he got close that he realized it was maggots ... hundreds ... maybe thousands of them ... crawling, eating.

He shuddered again when he realized that he was seeing ... was it the 'souls' of his victims? ... all of the lives it had killed over the millennia. And it wasn't just his soul that turned away. It was all he could do to keep his stomach where it belonged.

He couldn't think. He could only react. His sword was out and he was running to meet it's charge head on, a groan that became a yell of rage, before he realized it. Some part of him =knew= it was what he had to do ... he had to set all those souls free and the only way to do that was to send this vile creature to hell.


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Seyja


A rage building at the words of the great white wyrm, Seyja lunged to intercept the dragon's attack, her greataxe whirling and slashing, seeking any vulnerable spot.

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He slipped unseen into the border between light and dark. He moved with sure grace. His blade would find the surprised flank of the huge dragon. This is what it meant to live.

[Shadow walk for hopefully a nice surprise attack.]

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Zoltan

He smiles grimly once battle appears to be joined. It had been all he could do to not attack the thing once it revealed itself as a Master of Undeath.

Shouting a battle cry, "Katra n'ered'ruin mornu!" He draws his sword and slashes at the dragon. As it's head dips to attack Weston, he aims at the weakened area in it's neck where it already has a grievous wound and where the protection from it's scales should be weaker.

[OOC - Will use Smite Evil, and of course Curse of Chaos if it rolls poorly.]

Last edited by Zeim; Mon 16/11/15 12:56 UTC.
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