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The Eldunarí - vel freohr


The Compromise
The Eldunarí - vel freohr


For those who are only just joining us, while this roleplay is on its first page there is still time to join – the sign up thread is here.

Our café thread is here, and I advise you all to keep an eye on it.​

It was silent.

The wind beat a ragged pattern on his back, driving icy rain drops through his shirt like shards of ice, but it was the silence, the sheer, oppressing lack of sound that shredded his heart. A shaky, slow breath – his chest ached at the movement, and he winced, but that pain was quickly overridden and soon forgotten in the wake of the feeling of intense loss, and he let the air hiss out slowly between clenched teeth. The ground was cold beneath his cheek.

Something was missing.

He shifted, fingers scrambling over the slick, ribbed surface beneath them.

He (was alone) and that was wrong. His thoughts were hollow. Empty.

He opened his eyes- his eye, the other was- was-

Dun scales reflected dully in the clouded light inches before him (her scales), and his hands clutched them, having recognised them subconsciously while his mind swam. The sight of her flickered like a small flame in his thoughts, and he blinked a smile, temporarily displacing the growing feeling of absence (if she was here with him, what could be wrong?) to reach out his mind to greet hers-

No answer.

He froze, confusion clouding his thoughts – that was impossible, she must not’ve heard him – he was weak, after all. Sustained by that, he reached his fingers out as far as he was able and shakily attempted to catch a grip on her scales to heave himself into a sitting position, legs straining against the quickly disintegrating ground. His fingers slid off of the smooth scales, though, and he slipped back into the mud, panting from the exertion.

(Garjzladraumr – awake, answer me, help!)

He fought to press towards her again, thoughts straining to call, but only silence followed. Trembling, he tried again, and again, ice seeming to flood through his veins as a growing horror crept into his gut- but still there was nothing. Not a thought. Nothing, but that abyss growing in the pit of his heart, where she would hum comfort, sing, fly-

(oh god no oh god)

Mustering strength he didn’t have, he dragged himself alongside her, finger nails digging into the mud. Hysterically he cried out with his mind. Pulling himself up by her final neck spike, he cradled her limp head, glazed eyes wide and unseeing, and screamed.


x3 Ready, dears?

Defn and Beroan

Time wore on, and slowly the line crawled forward, the surrounding celebrations slowly cooling to a neighbourly murmur as the citizens of Cithri settled to watch as one after another, one of their number whispered finger tips over the stones and were denied. But slowly, ever so slowly, she became aware of one tiny, almost insignificant fact.

She was only a couple meters away.

Her shoes sank into the regal red carpet, a small breeze tickling her trembling arms, brushing her tangled hair across her eyes as she scanned the queue before her, breaths shallowing as she noted the reduced numbers. This awareness only grew as two, three, then four more people passed by the stones, leaving only a single, solitary person at the front. Herself.

She took a deep breath and inhaled the scene.

The smells: The warm, rich smell of roasted pork jarring with the charred ash that whirled from the surrounding campfires, spitting smouldering sparks into the evening sky-

The taste: The delicate tang of the strawberry sweet she’d only just finished, the slight, odd taste of blood from her anxiously-bitten cheek-

The sight: The glorious, vibrant colours of the guards regalia as they stood to attention around the cushioned stools, their shining, crested helmets seeming dim besides the diamond-fires of the stones themselves, glowing like stars in velvet clouds-

The sounds: Her pulse racing in her ears, her heart beating in her throat, the dim voice of a wayward singer striking a tune-

And finally the feel, the cool, smooth touch of the eggs under her fingers after she took her last, shaky steps to the podiums and pressed her trembling hands to the first stone.

Time seemed to stand still. Her gaze, drawn to the light-golden egg before her, seemed to be fixed in place, features frozen, eyes focussing on the clear, shining heart of the stone. Steadily beneath her fingers a gentle hum throbbed to her bones, rumbling to her heart and as she exhaled it grew, the clear light in the stone-heart changing, splitting into the thousand shades of the spectrum-

She blinked.

The normal sounds of the city surrounded her once more, and she found herself hunched over the stool, hands shaking and yet pressed firmly against the stone, brows furrowed in her intense bewilderment as she came to her senses once more and fought against a sudden bout of light-headedness. The two guards that flanked the podium watched her silently, features unmoving – except for the one on the right, she noted in her dazed state. He seemed to be trying not to smile, tired lips quirking at the corners, his clear, brown eyes regarding her passively.

“You have been chosen,” he said, his voice light and even.


Let's begin! :3
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This shall be a long flight and over water, are you sure you're ready? Inquired Knurljurgen with a worried undertone.

“I'll be fine,” said Hartlik chuckling, “I've thought ahead, I have.” Hartlik finished tying the black cloth over her eyes and nodded. She pointed in the opposite direction of the ocean and proclaimed, “Let us away!”

The mighty brown dragon released a wisp of smoke as she let out a deep chuckle. I believe the ocean is behind ye, She teased, At least now it be known the blindfold works.

Hartlik placed her hands on her hips, “Just be on with ye then. Come on, let's get this over with.”

That indeed was the problem, Knurljurgen was no longer sure if she wanted to continue the venture now that she was once again faced with the prospect of long distance flying. Short hops were never a problem for her, but she wasn't sure if she had the stamina for this. Unfortunately, there was only one way to determine her endurance. She lifted herself clumsily into the air and snatched Hartlik up as soon as she had gained enough height. Then she shot off at a low elevation over the ocean, ignoring Hartlik's complaints about wanting a proper warning before being nabbed into the air.


Spring-Loaded Fish
“- and the council has therefore decided to send a delegation to Farthen Dur, in the hopes that the situation can be resolved as soon as possible.”

A light breeze played about the elf’s silver hair as he finished speaking. Slowly, he turned from the small crowd in front of him and made as if to walk back into the tall, elegant stone building behind him, but he was interrupted before he could take his first step.

“A moment please, Oromis-Elda.” The elf stopped and turned again, seemingly surprised, as Uriel made his way up the small flight of stone steps and strode purposefully across the platform. He stopped several metres from Oromis. “I wonder, Oromis-Elda, what you could tell us about the rumours of a shade -” he paused for a moment, enjoying the murmur that rippled through the crowd at his words “apparently living in the northern end of the spine.” Oromis was silent for a moment.

“The council is investigating the rumours, but suspects them to be baseless.” He attempted to retreat through the archway again.

“Is it true that the council sent a small group of riders into the area?” A look of surprise crossed Oromis’ face, quickly replaced by the same neutral look as before.

He didn’t expect us to know that.

Indeed” Nehima’s almost lyrical voice echoed pleasingly around his mind.

“That is correct. As I said, the council is investigating the rumours.” His tone was cautious now.

“When were they last heard from?” Oromis was silent again. The silence dragged on so long that Uriel almost didn’t expect him to answer, but eventually he replied

“Three weeks ago.”

“Three weeks?” Uriel feigned surprise.

“What is it you’re getting at, Uriel-vodhr?” Uriel chose to ignore the slightly insulting suffix.

“Surely the council has considered sending another group, a more experienced, dependable group? Just to investigate, to make sure that nothing -” he paused for dramatic effect “- untoward has happened.”

“Are you volunteering to go, Uriel-vodhr?”

"Check and mate" he crowed in his mind.

Don’t be too sure of yourself. Oromis isn’t on the council for nothing.

He smiled broadly. “I am honoured that such a distinguished member of the council considers me an experienced and dependable rider. Of course, I would be honoured to go wherever the council bids me.” He bowed low to the sound of a few titters from the assembled crowd.

* * *​

The grass shimmered in the sunlight as Uriel and Oromis wandered through the gardens. Flowers of every colour grew all around them, their combined scent almost overpowering.

“I don’t know why you’re so interested, Uriel. All that’s happened is the Urgals have got a bit out of control and the riders we sent have become overenthusiastic whilst chasing them."

“You don’t know that, Oromis. For all we know, there really is a shade, and those poor young riders have fallen victim to it, or are in terrible danger.” Uriels voice brimmed with false concern. He grinned, unable to keep a straight face. “Besides, where else would I get the same enjoyment as pitting my wit against yours on the podium? Not the clashing of blades nor the thrill of flying astride Nehima compares.”

Really.” Uriel ignored Nehima’s sarcastic comment.

Oromis laughed. “Yes, well, I really wish you wouldn’t insist on trying to make a fool out of me in public.” He stopped for a moment, examining a small, wilting rose lost amidst the wild colours of the healthy flowers around it. He reached out a hand and touched it, closing his eyes for a moment. It perked up suddenly as he withdrew his hand, satisfied with his handiwork.

“Maybe if I were able to speak freely as part of the council, I wouldn’t be forced to debate with you in public." Oromis looked at him sadly.

“You know that’s not my decision to make.”

“Yes, well.” Uriel stared at the ground for a moment. “I should be preparing.” Abruptly, he turned and marched from the garden.

Smoothly handled

Now is not the time, Nehima

OOC: I hope you don't mind me taking control of Oromis for my own use here.
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Knight of RPGs
"Do you know just how lucky you are?"

"Enlighten me," Vandiril replied, already dreading the lecture Valreign was sure to deliver.

"You mutton-headed, cotton-brained, thoughtless twit of a Rider! Did you even consider being tactful and not mentioning to the lord of the entire city, and the hulking guards, that the fair lady of Aroughs is as ugly as a Kull with acne?" Valreign roared mentally.

"No," Vandiril admitted.

"This is the problem with you! When it comes to fighting, you're a genius, but the Riders aren't just warriors! We're supposed to be teachers, healers, advisors and DIPLOMATS! Since when have you been diplomatic? NEVER!"


"No! No buts! What would Oromis-elda say if he knew about this? Or Vrael-elda? I doubt they'd be pleased with your performance today!" Valreign snapped, sounding absolutely furious with her Rider. Vandiril didn't try to argue anymore, as she managed to hurl every insult she knew at him, along with numerous reasons for just why he deserved those insults and threats about numerous figures of authority within the Riders.

He just ignored the lecture and concentrated on checking Arget for damage. Of course, being a Riders sword, Arget was nearly immune to any form of damage that could affect metal, the combination of the Brightsteel used in its making and the spells woven into the metal protecting it. Still, Vandiril always checked his weapon after battle. It gave him something to do and he always felt surer of the blades safety when he had personally examined every inch of the blade and hilt.

As expected, Arget wasn't damaged in any way and Vandiril sheathed the blade with a soft sigh. He still felt weary from the magic he had been forced to use, but it hadn't taken much of his strength. He was still capable of fighting should it be required.

Not that it should.

Where are we?" he asked Valreign, suddenly not recognising the mountainous terrain beneath them. His dragon examined the area.

"Barzul," she cursed "we're in the Beor Mountains. That stupid wind must have blown us off while I wasn't paying attention. Still, it shouldn't be too hard to get home."

That was when the muddy brown draconic creature burst out of the clouds and attacked.

"Fanghur!" Vandiril cried out. Valreign roared, trying to scare away the creature. Her hopes were dashed as two more Fanghur burst from the clouds, one steely grey, the other the same colour as the first. Vandiril opened his mouth, preparing to use a spell, but he cried out instead as a burst of mental energy hit him. He instantly reacted on instinct, concentrating on an image of the Menoa Tree in Ellesmera. It worked, but he could barely hold off all three attacking at once.

"Let me help you!" Valreign snarled, grabbign at one of the Fanghur's wings. The creature shrieked and writhed away like a snake. Vandiril felt the mental assault weaken as the Fanghur was distracted, giving him the room to think he needed.

"Jierda!" he barked, thrusting out his palm at the grey Fanghur. There was a sharp crack as one of the bones in its wing snapped and it screamed in agony. The last Fanghur shrieked and dived away, followed by its unhurt kin. Valreign grabbed the grey Fanghur and bit down on its neck, killing it instantly.

"That was fun," she remarked sarcastically.
Knurljurgen soared over the water, wings spread to their maximum. Her blazing stone image shone on the as she shot past with rippling speed. She had become tired though, every flap to gain height caused her whole body pain. Her breath was becoming limited and her heart was challenging the fortitude of her ribs. Luckily, it wasn't far, she could see the thin outline of shore curving upward to the volcanic peak already.

Hartlik had long ago either fainted from fear or fallen asleep. In either case, she now had to endure silence along with this painful test of endurance. She was certain however that it would pay off as soon as their target was reached. Exactly how, she didn't know, but she she could simply feel she was right. After all, what could go wrong?

Halt! What be thy buisness travelling to Doru Araebe, asked a very demanding and, in Knurljurgens opinion, rude voice.

We are but travellers, in search of work and ale. she responded, giggling inwardly at her own pompousness.

You will not find either of those here, he informed, Please turn back immediately

Knurljurgen's muscles spoke for her, Not an option! And with that bold proclamation, she bounced off the surface of the water and hurriedly climbed to elevation higher than the now fast approaching guard. It was a risky move though, as it drained the last of what strength she had left. She soared quickly past the onyx black dragon and shot downwards. She didn't have much time; the, she had to admit, rather attractive male dragon would soon be able to reverse his direction and lay chase to Knurljurgen. She looked back to measure his progress, but also his potential.

She jarred backwards, nearly dodging a column of flame. Another guard had snuck up on her from bellow. Unfortunately, she used up too much speed; she wouldn't be able to land in her originally selected destination, nor would she be able to out maneuverer the two far more experienced riders. So she decided to simply drop out of the situation, in rather the same manner as a rock would. So she folded her wings and began to plummet.
“What in Urûr's name!?” Hartlik asked, woken from her nap.

Hartlik! Knurljurgen had completely forgotten about her cargo. If she were to land like this, she'd crush the poor little dwarf. Thinking quickly, she Hartlik into the air and snapped her shut into her mouth, careful not to impale her upon one of her razor sharp teeth. It proved to be not a second too soon as the her legs soon impacted the ground. The impact jostled her entire enormous frame, sending a cloud of dust into the air as the powerful shock waves of sound cut through the air nearby.

Frederik was preparing to depart to aid with the intruder when there was what sounded like a terrible explosion. He quickly turned on his heels to observe a dust cloud now settling to reveal a rather large dragon. It was shaking its head and dry heaving. Wait, was it choking? Can a dragon choke? Not soon after he began to ponder these grand questions did the dully scaled dragon coughed up what at first glance looked like a hairball. That was at least, until this hairball stood up and spoke.

“Ya' nearly swallowed me you old hag!” Hartlik exclaimed, shaking her fist at the panting dragon.

Well, perhaps you belong in my gullet, Knurljurgen retorted, moving her head closer to finish, “snack.”

“I beg to differ,” responded Hartlik, tearing off the blindfold. Knurljurgen simply gave her adopted sister a small push with her snout. “Perhaps I literally beg, O mighty dragon,” continued Hartlik, waving her hands in front of her face in a gesture of disinterest. Knurjurgen licked the small dwarf before turning her attention to the riders now assembling before her.

“Pardon, my directness, but who are you and what are you doing here?” Asked an elderly elf, dismounting his gleaming white dragon.

“Well, I'm Hartlik the Dwarf,” She said, gesturing to herself with her thumb, “and this be my companion, Knurljurgen. Where's the bar?”

I won't be able to RP all next week, sorry. :( Also, sorry about the double post, but that nasty error bit me again. (It's becoming rather annoying.)


The Compromise
OOC: Sorry for disappearing - have had a very busy two days. x3 And that's fine, Zearen! *gives cookie*


She sat in the room and stared at the egg.

She was alone, or at least she believed herself to be - after being led here by the elven guards she'd sat in almost complete silence, simply holding the egg that hadn't left her grasp since she'd laid her hands on it. It was cool against her palms, the flickering lights slowly fading - apparently it'd just been a spell, after all, crafted to be released if the dragon hatchling recognised and responded to the touch of any who passed, and would be spent within the hour – but still the beauty remained, if not intensified as the true colour of the stone was revealed much more, a deep, mahogany-verging amber. She still could not believe what was happening. Of course, she’d hoped (wished) that this could happen, but when did it actually happen? When did fairytales becom-

The stone shivered between her fingers.

She froze mid-thought, gaze slipping down as her fingers tightened subconsciously (protectively) around the egg. It remained remote, still, as if nothing had happened – and yet she swore that she felt a…?

A tiny shift in the light inside the stone, and she bent closer, eye lashes lowering into a half squint against the brightness of the dying spell. There seemed to be a dark shadow in the center, amidst the contours and rivelets of the stone, and as she watched it slipped a little to the side and back, weak, feeble, yet growing stronger.

Something was moving in the stone’s heart.

Her fingers slipped further to the sides of the egg, cupping it, shielding it.

Her something.
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Tearen the Absol

Carpe Noctem
Gixorn was placidly floating on his back in the warm-water-by-the-shore when he suddenly remembered that today was of momentous occasion. It was odd how many things he'd been forgetting, but he reminded himself that a scholar was always somewhat removed from society in this way. Nonetheless, today was the day a new generation of riders were selected. He lazily rolled over, (terrifying a group of nearby dolphins) and paddled ashore. He launched himself into the air and cruised low over the waters near the island of Vroengard.

As he wheeled around to the north, he spotted a small, short-winged dragonness, flying low over the water as well, with a small-and-bearded on her back. Perhaps they too were going to go greet the young new riders. The town of Doru Araebea was resplendent in it's colors of celebration. Crowds swarmed the streets, so Gixorn had to stretch out his mind to locate where some of the new riders had gone to cradle their eggs.

Of course the immense stone castle of the city was littered with the racing minds of the younglings. No doubt they'd be protected by tall-and-gracefuls. Yet with a prestige as massive as his own physical size, he thought they might allow him to peak into one. The tall-and-gracefuls twisted their arms over their chests, and Gixorn inclined his head in return. He once again stretched out his mind, not to the young riders this time, but to any other organism with eyes inside one of the chambers, for he knew too well that this was a time the oughtnt be bothered.

Locating the curious, alien mind of a small spider, he used the faceted eyes to gaze upon a very young Strong-and-Able. She hugged the egg close to her chest. And what a handsome egg it was, a pale, moony gold. It would grow to be a fine dragon. The girls compassion was palpable, even without touching her mind.

The new riders revered their soul-partners more than ever. It could only be a great sign of peace and development for Alagaesia. He slowly trotted down the wide street, making even the surrounding buildings tremble at his power.


Knight of RPGs
Valreign slowly descended, Vandiril looking at the majestic city on the island. Even after seeing the same sight so many times, Doru Araeba was still amazing to behold. The light cast on it made the white buildings seem to shine and the greenery around the city looked healthy and lush.

"Always majestic," Valreign said simply.

"Never quite as beautiful as you though," Vandiril complemented. She blushed slightly and kept her gaze fixed on the city, intending to land.

"Who comes to Doru Araeba?" the soft voice of a guardian asked. Both Rider and dragon knew full well how to respond.

"Vandiril, son of Danethar," Vandiril replied.

"Valreign, daughter of Cwaedfell," Valreign added "may we enter, respected guardian?"

"You may, provided you respect the laws of our fair city," the guardian said. Valreign continued on her path, slowly descending and landing softly in a square. A crowd was already gathered around, several newcomers to the city awed at seeing a Rider and dragon so close.

"Hello!" Vandiril called "could you please clear a path for Valreign? She doesn't want to crush any of you by mistake!" There were several half-hearted laughs from the crowd, which were quickly stopped by a growl from Valreign.

"Tourists!" she snarled, angrily marching through the pathway cleared for them.

"Don't you like being admired?" Vandiril teased "oh majestic and beautiful dragon."

"Be quiet," she growled "I don't see why Vrael lets non-Riders in this city, I really don't. It's pointless and they take up too much space."

"Relax, once we're in the castle they can't follow us."

"There should be some new apprentices as well," Valreign said "if I've got my dates right... yes, there should be a few new apprentices. Maybe you should see them. After all, you might be teaching one of them."

"I doubt that," he replied you know full well that only the experienced Riders get to train apprentices. They'd never let me, not considering my performance. And what happened in Aroughs."

"Who knows?" Valreign said, shrugging slightly "you could get lucky and impress some beautiful elf maiden with your dashing looks and... hey, is that a dwarf?" Vandiril immediately managed to completely lose every single counter comment he ahd been preparing in response to her sarcasm and looked around wildly, catching sight of the dwarf in question standing next to a dragon.

"You are kidding me."


Spring-Loaded Fish
OOC: Sorry i haven't been able to post much, ridiculously busy. Might get something done tonight if not don't expect it til tuesday evening I'm afraid.