A wing and a prayer...

Rihahn

 

It begins with a slight crackling, sizzling sound and a few flashes that appear to be little more than summer lightning racing across the sky.

 

Thick grey clouds hang low over a small, sparse town set high on a mountainous plateau. The slight stirring of the air does little more than rattle a shutter on a building in the distance – otherwise silence rules here; as thick and oppressive as the storm clouds above.

 

Another flash; brighter this time and the electrical popping and hissing becomes more intense as high above the clouds begin to slowly swirl.

 

Near the town lies disused teleport pad – a large, low stone and metal dais that once, long ago, brought travelers to this place… All the pad supports now are large weeds, a stubby sapling, and a fine layer of windblown dirt.

 

Beyond the town, in the cliff face that rises up to the mountainous peaks beyond, are two immense caves that create a low, mournful sound from their pitch black depths when the wind blows just right…

 

The sky above begins to take on a bluish hue as the swirling clouds and electrical outbursts gain in momentum and power – huge arcs of searing purple and blue light fork from the storm, lancing into the ground creating deafening peals of thunder.

 

Where the lighting strikes, the ground glows for a moment then leaves behind odd broken rings of electrical red and yellow with faintly glowing, what could almost be runes, which pulse with the storm above.

 

Suddenly the swirling clouds above come to a halt and a deafening silence fills the air as the center of the storm glows brightly. Then, without warning, an immense bolt of lightning courses down from the center of the storm and explodes upon the ground, sending molten shrapnel in all directions and creating a concussive sound that ripples outward and shakes the very foundations of the mountain.

 

With this one incredible outburst the storm above quickly abates, leaving little more than the low grey clouds and the occasional slight spark and flash as any indication of what just occurred.

 

As the smoke and dust begins to clear and the odd electrical rings dissipate, a large form is seen to be lying in the crater the storm blasted into the landscape – and it appears to be breathing.

 

It is immense, fully the size of a house, and winged – judging by the one leathery wing lying just as haphazardly as the rest of the beast. It is heavily injured; deep claw marks and rivulets of blood mar the startlingly white armored hide and great gashes are torn out of the one visible wing… But judging by the gore on its silvery claws and across its muzzle, it gave as well as it took…

 

It slowly raises its head and the surprisingly blue eyes struggle to focus… “Tirzah? … Then I’ve made it…” And the beast collapses, exhausted.

 

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This is the beginning of another re-introduction story for my Dragon, Kaeliss, into Istaria. I’ve been gone for some span of months and with the great changes Virtrium has brought into the world in that time, I feel it’s time to ‘pass the torch’ and hand off Kaeliss’ story to a new Dragon.

 

Kaeliss was one of the Helian Dragons; a more peaceful, scholarly sort with a penchant for magic, history, and getting along fairly well with the smaller bipeds of Istaria. The new Dragon will be one of the Lunus; a more war-like and aggressive group of Dragons who barely tolerate the lesser races and are more inclined to simply eat one than talk to it.

 

This should present some very fun role-play situations!

 

As last time I will endeavor to post up short outtakes of this new Dragon’s adventures in Istaria for anyone interested in what we actually do in this ages-old MMO.