Description
Impossibly fair for even a high elf, the young elf before you has a beauty
more akin to those features found in ancient portraits among the halls of
Darsylon. Yet her hair is a golden sheen that blazes like the sun and seems
to capture the light at every angle and reflect it back all the brighter.
Eyes, blue and cunning, seem to be in a constant search to take in a world
both familiar and strange. While her blood seems even purer in lineage than
even current royalty, her clothes and mannerisms do not. She seems as one
accustomed to outdoor adventures and rugged terrains and all of her gear
is chosen for hard travel despite the sharp features and soft skin of her
birth.
Even more atypical for this golden beautied elf are her tattoo markings, a
practice long since abandoned except by wild elves. Ancient gold dragons
entwine and circles each of her arms in a way that truly comments on the
skill of the artist that captured the ancient gold dragon's brilliance,
chaotic tendencies, and something more in it's eyes that seem almost alive:
A hunger for the world's treasures and secrets.
Role
The Cult of the Gold Dragon "Glor'Draconis"
Added Wed Oct 3 02:34:11 2018 at level 30:
She crawled on her stomach across the ridge in the northernmost section of the
wind swept jade mountains. Though it was an early autumn, the snows had
reached only some of the valleys below. Her and another of the Cult of the
Gold Dragon had come to train with the Sylvan Warders, but had stumbled
across something even more interesting as night approached.
The two gold elves, members of Glor'Draconis, rested prone overlooking
the jade elves below who were busy excavating and digging what would surely
be a footprint for an enormous burial ground or storage vaults of some sort.
And that was always of interest to her family, the cult known as
Glor'Draconis. The training the two of them were chosen for with the Sylvan
Warders could wait a day longer to start again this season.
They watched. Patiently. They were gold elves and saw time differently,
especially compared to the jade elves who seemed unusually busy below trying
to finish their project before the coming snows. She pulled out a piece of
pumpkin squash, handed a bit to Llewyn, then began to snack the delicacy
probably for the last time before the winter came and ended the fall harvest.
Still they waited.
The Cult of the Golden Dragon worshiped and idealized the very demigod being
that was their namesake in all its power, chaotic whims, benevolence, and
uncalculatable cunning. Whether it was the last single gold dragon or a line
of dragons she could not say, for she had not seen it in her lifetime. It
was even more rare than the evil chromatic dragons and with a read of time as
foreign to her life was to a human. Yet their religion idolized its strengths
as well as its vices. Which is why she and Llewyn could not resist the site
below. Where jade elves buried sarcophagi, surely there were magic, secrets,
and treasures to be had. With all the strength of the Way of the Golden
Dragon, came some of its obsessions. And seeking treasures and secrets was
definitely an obsession of Glor'Draconis.
The jade mountains begin to give way to shadows as night fell. Torches could
be seen in the night as the jade elves continued the burial of treasures, the
dead, and other untold secrets. Silently she nodded and Llewyn nodded in
response.
It was time, they made their move.
Jade Cornerstones
Added Wed Oct 3 02:39:10 2018 at level 30:
Pause. Wait. Dash. Pause again.
They made their way from in shadow and flicker from torch to torch, dodging
the detection of jade elves occupied with finishing their work before the
winter snows made construction impossible. It was a strange sight, and an
even stranger urgency. Why the jade elves ferried in some bodies wrapped in
bandages with accompanying magical artifacts before the tombs were complete,
she did not understand, except that they seemed to be completing the lower
levels first and storing those items that would go there as if they were of
most importance.
This made for an odd site with the top level being open to the world and yet
unfinished in most places. This left only the jade cornerstones in place
along with the clearly outlined patterns of future tunnels running east,
west, and north beyond the first plaza they came to.
They halted. Stunned.
Her and Llewyn stood frozen like a black cat who had just seen a cooshie.
There in the unfinished plaza was a dragon, but only it wasn't. A giant egg
sat there and she could not discern if it was brass or bronze, but it would
BECOME a dragon. It was alive, and already ancient in its incubation. Jade
stones lined its base and emitted an artificial heat to speed the process.
Oh what a prize for their hoard. They looked at each other and shrugged. It
was too big to carry.
They moved on, the training of the Glor'Draconis instinctively pointing
them to the unfinished northern tunnel and the deeper jade vaults. That is
where the best artifacts would lay.
Perhaps if they would have inhabited less of the spirit of the gold dragon
they worshipped, they would have been less focused on the magical additions
to their treasure hoard. Perhaps they would have even noticed the conjuration
and necromantic traps left incomplete without their circles of warding yet
finalized... and the dangers that presented.
But they did not.
Buried Alive
Added Wed Oct 3 02:44:44 2018 at level 30:
She ran, a jade hourglass with golden encircling wyverns, clutched in one
arm.
A life of a gold elf was precious, a life of Glor'Draconis more so, and so
the certain death of Llewyn racked her body as she desperately told herself
to focus on her own survival. She still saw in her mind the unliving arms of
jade elves clutching and swarming over his body and dragging him back down
the tunnel to the chamber from which they had snatched the hourglass. He had
not died silently.
She ran, seeking sky. Stars! She reached the opening of the excavation for
the jade vaults being built and did not stop running until she crossed the
courtyard plaza where the unhatched dragon egg sat and yet she kept running
still.
Jade vaults gave way to the rugged rock of the jade mountains and she
stopped. A veteran treasure hunter and no stranger to the wilds and teachings
of the Sylvan Warders, she breathed a sigh of relief.
The undead and conjured spirits would not follow her here beyond their
tethered domain.
She turned. She froze. They came. Impossible. They should have been contained
to their tombs or conjuration circles or glyphs that summoned them. She
walked backwards, not believing it to be true.
The ground dropped out from underneath her. She had mistepped. Plummeting.
Falling. Tumbling down the jade mountains. One more drop and deep snow. She
gasped for breath, she could not move, she was too deep in the snow. Could
she just make out stars high above? They glittered off the jade wyvern
hourglass she somehow still managed to clutch. She hurt, the wyverns seemed
to swirl and seemed almost alive. Strange.
She heard a horrible roaring. It was like thunder, but pierced with the
cacophony of the undead. NO! The undead were running, falling, tumbling down
the cliff after her still! The stars disappeared. The snows came crashing
down above. Her world disappeared. She could fill the snow pack down harder
and harder. Undead hordes ran over and beyond her. She could not breathe! She
gasped desperately! Tried to gasp again! But no air responded, and all went
black.
Even Magic has its Limits
Added Wed Oct 3 02:49:55 2018 at level 30:
The goat stared into its own reflection. It bleated. Content.
Big goat eyes looked over the thawing icicles. A long goat tongue came out
and began to lick the dripping icicles that were the telltale signs of the
coming spring thaw.
Mmmmm. Crack... Crack... Crack. Crack. Crack.
The goat bleated! Took two hops sideways, and darted off as the cliff face of
ice came crashing down. In the early thawing spring, a gold elf stood up from
it all. She was similar to a high elf in nature, only that she looked like
the earlier royal bloodlines and had the facial features one would see in the
historic Darsylon portraits...an ancient line of the first high elves, but
far more wild in lineage.
She breathed deeply, filling lungs that had long since sought air. For her,
she woke from a dreamless slumber she had only just fallen into.
Suddenly there was another crash as a chuck of ice, no, an object of some
sort... hit the ground behind her and shattered on the newly revealed, shallow
streams rocky bottom.
She looked down and confusion reigned on the young female elven face. Chunks
of a jade hourglass with golden wyverns could almost be made out, but they no
longer seemed alive and it was all so... old. She sought to gather a few
pieces in their chunks of ancient ruin. They began to crumble, unnaturally so
in rapid decay. She sighed at what she assumed was its natural defense
against treasure hunters. What a price for her friends life last night.
She stood there a long time. The mountains seemed different and even the
valleys had changed. She shook her head. She must have really hurt herself in
that fall and was lucky to be alive.
Carefully she set out. Looking around for the undead from last night, but
confident she wouldnt see them in the bright sunlight of the jade
mountains.
The first thing she would do would be to meet the Sylvan Warders for this
seasons training. Then she would send word back to the Cult of the Golden
Dragon about Llewyn's tragic passing.
PK Wins
Oct 3, 2018 |Lv 38|Outside Hamsah Mu'tazz|Roe vs 2: [38] Tamra (27%), [42] Zsorilya (72%, pound)
Oct 6, 2018 |Lv 39|A Virgin Forest|Hemeth vs 2: [37] Alloyshaas (23%), [39] Tamra (76%, bite)
Oct 13, 2018|Lv 40|The Keep of Barovia|Sobcejea vs 1: [40] Tamra (100%, thornheart)
Oct 18, 2018|Lv 50|The Imperial Lands|Furukulo vs 1: [50] Tamra (100%, bleeding)
Oct 20, 2018|Lv 51|The Imperial Palace|Hanansse vs 3: [51] Nelarik (40%, mental assault), [51] Elandarn (14%), [51] Tamra (45%)