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Chapter 3

Calrik the VIII

I stand upon the walls, my shield and sword held high, the haroldry of the royal line , the crowned lys upon a silver field, upon my chest. I shout out to my men. They are not prepared to die, and truth be told, neither am I, but the dragons don't care about whether we're ready or not. The city burns beneath us. The walls of Calris, the stone bulwark that has held my people in a protective embrace since the dawn of the sun and moon, cannot defend us from the dragons that fly above them, and soon they will be an urn filled with the ashes of my kingdom. The men cannot tell that my mind is on my likely immediate death like theirs is. I stand as high as my legs can carry me and i scream to them "Men! We may die today, but let's be certain to bring a few of those scaly bastards down with us!" the men roar back, but it's obvious they aren't as infused as they could be. I only wish i could blame them, but what soldier would be willing to stand by a thirteen year old boy, even if he wears a mans armor. Even if he wears a crown atop his head? That's when the dragon circles around again, and I raise my shield "Shields high, men! the lizard turns to face us!" they do as i command, but i doubt it will matter. that beast is massive, larger than some churches. the men hold their idols in their shield hands. they are prepared to die.... I only wish I was. The dragon sprays it's flame upon my shield and i feel it melting into my chainmail and arm, and despite the training and the appearance i'm supposed to have I cannot endure this pain, I call out in agony, tears leaking form my eyes though i try to shut them tight, and i thrust my sword forward. When i feel it stick and find it's mark, i'm certain I'm even more surprised than the dragon, but i'm more surprised when i go with the dragon over the edge of the castle wall towards the courtyard below, whilst they can still hear me i shout to my soldiers "Fire the Balistae!" I can only pray for a few more seconds that they hear and understand my command. I hit the ground just atop the spined spiked and scaled beast, my sight failing me already... and the world is no more. I hope only that my city doesn't become a grave.

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Vinkiir

I sigh deeply as the half-elf reminds me of my cloth-less state, I can still, even after centuries, barely understand what it is with Humans and clothing. Don't they understand the appeal of being one with yourself and the nature of the world itself? No, i suppose beings which die so quickly wouldn't understand. Of course, as fate has often shown, the worst possible time is when i notice something. Specifically, a bright green light and the crying of a human infant. "Vingya, we can worry about my lack of cloth wrappings later, it appears this Changeling has interfered with a human child's rest, perhaps we should ensure it is healthy?" That gets her moving. I swear these halfings seem get more and more human like every time a new one is born. Just one or two Generations ago Halflings were MORE than willing to go running through the trees nude and act like the elves they so wish they could be, but no, this one is obsessed with humanity! The harlot is weary bagging clothing made of a potato sack or some-such drivel right now! perhaps letting them go around willy-nilly to learn isn't such a good idea, they might get mortal ideas in their heads...

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Vingya

That Daft elf, i swear, she loses her mind a little bit more every day! Even if she does have a point, still! I run off as quick as i can and hop through the window, just in time to see something... worrying, to say the least. the skygge is... eating? .... something bright and green from the child, some odd, aetherial mist coming out of the child... "what the devil...?" that's when i notice the mother in the doorway, mostly because she starts screaming! "oi whut the blody 'eck is it doen tuh muh babey" oh god her accent, her rechid, rechid accent. "How should I know?" Obviously, that wasn't the right thing to say to worried mother watching a strange dragon eat a stranger mist coming out of her infant daughters head "It's eatin' 'er Soul! Call the devil 'unters! Save muh child!" I forgot she's from the Northern-lands, and she was probably raised a Solarin. Thankfully, that's when the skygge stops doing what it's doing and instead starts have a seizure on the ground! "holy shit!" Then the mother runs over and takes her child and wakes her up, and she seems fine at least. Well.... at least it can't get any wor- oh never mind the daft elf-still nude- walks in through the window "so yeah that changeling took it's kid and left, mumbling about a "shadowed lord" or- oh what the ballox!" tonight is going to be a long night.... why does the seven year old have to be the mature one?!

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Auvith

It was painful, taking that thing from the hatchling, but I'd do it again because it was also so thrilling! exciting, even! and afterwards I went through a horrible dream, everything was so... weird. When i open my eyes again i can see Bright-Light coming in through the holes in the walls. Something is different, though. the Humans are all on the other side of the room, the half-elf is sitting next to me, rubbing it's paw against my side, which feels really nice, and a new tall one, with pointier ears than the half-elf, is talking to the other ones, with a soft-thing wrapped around it's shoulders and body. They're speakiing in that loud, wrong-sounding way they've been before, but it seems i am the center of their attention. I can't help but purr softly with the half-elf rubbing her paw against my side like that, it feels really nice! Although, they don't seem to think that way! As soon as she hears it or feels it she Freaks out and stops. I look at her with my head cocked to the side, and I try to ask her why she stoped, but she doesn't seem understand what i'm saying in shadow-tongue any better than I understand what she's saying. One of the humans, the one that helped me into the home with the half-elf and the blanket, is holding the human hatchling. She seems incredibly worried about it, but i'm pretty sure the hatchling should be okay after what i did. All i did was help.

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VIngya

The humans were terrified for their child, and it was understandable. Their daughter had a green ethereal mist come out of her head and it was eaten by a black dragon allergic to sunlight. The Skygge seemed to be in a coma, it started seizing on the ground for a while then just had a fitful sleep until now, when it started purring and scared the daylights out of me! It felt incredibly weird, like it was shaking. Now the bloody thing is looking at me like I did something wrong! It took us a few hours to convince the humans that the child was fine and unharmed. It was almost noon when the first sign that the changeling had talked arrived. Three little pixies, no taller than a hand began circling around the Skygge, singing little songs in their gibberish language, putting a little flower-crown, made of honeysuckle, red valerian, daisies, and rosemary atop its head. The skygge looked over-joyed to see the monstrous little devils, it's obvious it's filled with curiousity. The humans, however, were less than thrilled to have them in their house, but unwilling to draw the ire of the Untvir court, lest another changeling come and replace their child with a brick or even worse, a siliphim cursing them and their name! When darkness fell VInkiir insisted that we take the Skygge to the elven retreat, but just before she could have convinced the humans, someone knocked upon the door.

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Auvith

There's an odd banging against the door of the home, the little sparkle-people zip off to the corners. They leave the weird circular thing atop my head. The largest human with the fuzz-face opens the door and another human covered in a reflective material and a symbol on his chest comes in. he speaks in a loud, angry sounding way and pulls something from his side and points it at me, screaming quite loudly. Once more, I act on instinct alone. Instinct is taking me down a very painful yet fulfilling path it seems, I sprey that bright mist out of my mouth and towards the angry human, i feel something gross climb along my back, cold and slimy and wrong, as I do so and I have a brief flashback in my minds eye of the nightmares I had earlier, but it seems to cause the angry one to ahve them too, he falls to the ground making loud noises and shaking before going into a restless-looking sleep.

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Calrik the VIII

The sergeant, Damocles i think his name is, is inside shouting at the farmers, and brandishing his sword. I decide that this is likely not the way in which they should meet the royalty brought low, and rush as quickly as my wounds will let me to the door of the home, my personal guards following just behind. It seems, however, that we're slightly too late. Some sort of magic or witchery, a bright green mist, is covering him, like a flame but absorbed into his very being! He falls to the ground screaming! I draw my blade and my guards overtake my own pace, swords drawn and shields high, but it seems like that isn't all we have to worry about. A Siliphium lands in front of us, blocking our way, and it says in the elder language, a language only royalty and the most versed of scholars still speak, "Halt grey-forged, the Grand Skygge is beyond you." That, however, was not something it should have said. Royalty, even royalty as humbled and broken as I, do not take well to being given orders. Royalty, even of a kingdom as small as mine, are sure to have special weapons, weapons infused with magic and runes and lode-stone, for example. The weapons of royalty can cut through even a Siliphium if honed well enough. I send the creature's soul back to the Sidhe. My guards and I march forward to the door of the home, and see something unexpected. An elven woman, a half-elf, 2 adult human farmers, a teenager slightly older than I and an infant, and on the ground sitting next to the fallen sergeant, who's now stopped seizing, is a small, fuzzy black dragon clutching at it's head, it's eyes are closed, it's horns curl back behind it's ears and under it's jaw, at the very end of it's tail, surrounded by some fluff, is a small black crystal. The creature's wings are barely large enough to take it off the ground, if they even can. One of my guards is raising his sword to strike at it "Don't!" However, i give the command a moment too late, his blade is already going speedily towards the creature!

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Auvith

The human in shining clothing is on the floor, the shiny mist i'd eaten earlier from the child and shot out at him seems to have caused him the same horrible dream it gave me. Though he seems to be fine now, still asleep, though. Another 3 humans have come in, one a youngling, almost the same size as the half-elf, but slightly larger, missing one of his upper-legs. The other two are in similar garments as the one i've put on the floor, but more rigid-looking and with large sheets of the same hard reflective material attached to their arms, and having bladed sticks made of it too. They have a similiar image on their shields, but with a bright-looking object atop the feathered creature on it. One of them stabs his shiny-stick at me! I try to spit out more of that shiny-mist, but I don't have anymore! He stabs me in the chest, and it causes immense amounts of pain. However, t also fills me with an emotion i've never felt before, hot, and it makes black out for a few moments. As it turns out, that's all that was needed.

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Calrik the VIII

If there were any doubts in my mind about what the creature before me was, they were drowned out with the screams my guard let loose as the small, innocent-looking creature began snarling and hissing, tearing through my guard and his armor like they're nothing. I call the other guard back and he pushes me into a corner, his shield and body between me and the dragon tearing my other guard to nothing. I clench my sword in my hand, the farmer and his family have rushed into another room, slamming the door behind them, the Elf stands where she is, watching with that cold, calculating gaze i've seen on high-druids visiting my court, and the half elf does something I'd not expect from a full grown man in armor, let alone a child in cotton. She grabs the creature by the tail and drags it off of the soldier! What happens afterwards however, is even more unexpected. By the hells, the fact that any of us survive this night is in and of itself unexpected

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Vingya

I pull the Skygge off of the soldier, hearing it's claws scrape against bone, making me sick to my stomach. After turning and snarling at me, just before it can leap and slay me, it's eyes change back to normal, and it blinks, shaking it's head before looking at itself. The poor creature doesn't seem to understand what has happened, and truthfully neither do I, it seems that as soon as the sword left the wound it closed, completely ignoring how the body is supposed to work! The flesh seemed to just... knit back together as soon as the blade wasn't in the way, like nothing had hapened!There wasn't even any blood! The Skygge went mad, and attacked the soldier so brutally, so horribly! It's claws don't look that big or sharp but they tore through Steel plate and chainmail like they were gossamer threads! Thankfully, the soldier doesn't seem to be alive anymore, he probably died from shock... my god...this doesn't make any sense... the Skygge doesn't look like it understands what happened, it's sniffing at the blood, it's muzzle scrunched up. it's brow knit and eyes squinting...

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Auvith

My muzzle is scrunched up in front of me and i squint at the odd liquid covering me. It's hot and sticky and it smells kind of like the bells from the old world, where i lived before i came up here to this bright place. I look over at the human who attacked me but he doesn't look that good. His shiny clothing is torn apart and he has the sticky liquid all over himself... it doesn't look like he's breathing, so I go over there and i nudge him to see if he's okay, to see if I can wake him up. The half-elf looks horrified by this, her eyes are wide open and her mouth is hanging down. I look over into the corner and see another man in hard clothing with the young human behind him. For some reason, none of them are helping this one... why isn't he waking up? I ask the shadows and after a few seconds one of them tells me that this "soldier" won't be waking up again.

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Calrik the VIII

The black drake just murdered one of my guards like a sociopath would kill a harlot on the streets. It was brutal, it tore his armor apart like it was nothing! And his flesh and bones held no more resistance! It just nudged his corpse and is looking around at us and the half-elfling, it's muzzle is scrunched up and there seems to be a question in his eyes, "Does... does that creature not understand what it's done?" The half-elf looks at me and slowly her eyes and mine go wide with realization. The creature doesn't understand that it just ended someone's life... By the lord this is a messy situation, even discounting hte blood and gore upon the floor. It seems to try asking a question, but not to us, it doesn't even sound like any noise came from it's mouth, just some soft, hissy whispering of the wind and one of the shadows slowly... moves in some unnatural fashion...

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Auvith

I slowly place my paw on the soldier's chest, whatever I did made it so he won't wake up again... hopefulyl at least i can make his sleep comfortable. * take the soft and warm-thing that i'd been placed upon and lie it ontop of him.

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