Guest
The Land of Ayra
« on: November 17, 2017, 02:54:02 PM »
Greetings all,
This is just a story I have been playing with for some time. Feel free to join in and explore where you would like to go with the story.

The Land of Ayra

There was rumor the dragons had returned. Luin, a woodland elf, knew her land was not safe. She searched through the woods to find some of the woodlanders, who understood well the way to destroy a dragon. Luin adjusted her bow and arrow on her hip and kept her eyes open. She had been searching for days. She wore a long thick dress to keep her warm from the cold. It was Autumn in the land and Luin was a healer in search of hope. The dragons were known for their evil. Rampaging the city and destroying lives with fire. They burned people to death and left houses in ashes. Luin was in search of sturdy warriors who could help the King in ideas of fending off the dragons. The Kings warriors were tired and needed new ideas.
The dragons had been a problem in the land for about twelve years. The inhabitants of the land had suffered terribly under the dragons. The dragons were beautiful but they were ruthless and unkind and would kill and destroy and torture without a second thought. The inhabitants of the land were traumatized by the dragons, they lived carefully and with much fear. The inhabitants of the land were that of elves and humans.


Raven

*
  • 377
  • 0
  • Remember the Imaginari
    • View Profile
    • The Lost Pathway
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #1 on: November 17, 2017, 07:46:46 PM »
Elf had always tasted a bit too sugary for his liking. Zithiar tore a haunch off of the brown, speckled cow as smoke from the village smouldered over his horned shoulders. Humans, though. Very savory. Elfs didn't keep livestock, either. Zithiar hooked a fang into the flank of the cow and tore off a chunk of meat. It was a little under-done. With a quick click and a snort, fire spurted from his second set of nostrils and grease popped and the smell of signed hide made his mouth water afresh. With humans, there were always cows, pigs, and sheep. Zithiar had always had a fondness for nice, greasy mutton. Elfs were also far more frustrating than humans to deal with. They stuck around longer -- not nearly as long as a dragon might, but long. Long enough that their memories may linger back to a time when some knew how to deal with dragons.
But even if they did remember in this backwater land, none would be a match for Zithiar. He spread his wings out to their full fifty-foot span, feeling his muscles crack. It had been a long flight over the mountain in the night. So far, he had just come upon little villages in secluded mountain valleys in this wester land, but he knew if he kept going, he would find much more. The half-eaten body of a young woman lay nearby, and Zithiar stretched his serpentine neck forward to smell the fabric. Yes. A mixture of silks and wool. Unusual, and not from here. There was a hint of something still on it -- maybe the scent, long distant, of cassia? Yes. And that meant trade. And where there was trade in spices and silks, there were cities, and where there were cities, there were kings. And where there were kings . . . there were hoards. Zithiar would find them soon enough. Further west, beyond where his kind had roamed in long ages.
Zithiar was well rested after his most recent nap. He had curled up in the rock and shut his eyes in a barren spot, in a fold of an old volcanic lava-flow long hardened into blackest obsidian. He had grown tired, pulling shards of volcanic glass overtop of himself to hide his body. When at last the fires in his belly had begun to grow hot again, he stirred. Zithiar was surprised to find that the ash and glass he had covered himself with had grown stiff and hard, some fused together. With a great heave he rose up, chunks of rock falling from his glistening scales, and the sunlight offending his bright golden eyes -- and he could not believe what he saw. Grass and trees where had been only rock and ash. How long had he been asleep? Compulsively, he had let out a roar and a burst of flame into the sky, an arc blue-gold fire thirty feet tall. Yes. The fires had grown hot again in his long sleep. Hot indeed.
The fires of the village were growing cold. Zithiar took the remainder of the carcass of the cow in his claws and stretched his wings to fly.
I thought I saw a unicorn on the way here, but it was just a horse with one of the horns broken off.
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #2 on: November 18, 2017, 03:25:37 PM »
Luin looked to the sky. What she saw sent chills down her back. There was a dragon up in the distance. She knew it was not a bird. The dragon was flying very high up and was small to her eye but she could tell by the way it was shaped and the way it was flying that it was a dragon. She watched the creature fly freely among the clouds for several minutes then she began walking through the woods some more. She knew that there were several woodland elf in the forest that could help with the problem of the dragons. They worked with old magic and could perhaps create a spell that would keep the dragons at bay. Luin knew she was close to elf Oenel’s cabin. In about twenty more minutes of walking through the woods Luin came to a small wooden cabin in the middle of two large oak trees. She walked and knocked on the door.
Moments later an elf man opened the door. He had ivory skin and long brown hair with piercing pale blue eyes. He wore a brown top and pants with sturdy boots.
“Greetings Oenel,” Luin said warmly, “May I come in?”
“Of course Luin,” Oenel said kindly opening the door wider for her. Oenel watched Luin’s face. He could see concern and distress in her eyes.
Luin walked in Oenel’s home which opened to his kitchen and she sat down at the table. The room was small and simply furnished. Wood furniture and a stove. There were small windows that looked outside to the woods. Trees surrounded his home.
“What brings you to my home Luin?” Oenel asked. “I can tell something is on your mind” Oenel said.
“It is the dragons Oenel,” Luin said, “The attacks are getting worse and more prevalent.”
Oenel nodded, concerned. “I had heard that,” He said. His voice was gruff and strong, like that of a man of older age.
“The human King is struggling and is seeking magic as a form of protection against the dragons.” Luin said.
“The humans assume our magic can stop the dragons easily. It won’t be easy Luin. You know that.” Oenel said.
“I know,” Luin said softly and sadly, “But the dragons are killing too many creatures- humans, elves, livestock. They care for no one but themselves. The King feels that the elves can help him. He has called on several elves to seek elven understanding of the dragons. He knows we can do some healing because of our earth magic and even some protection-perhaps even powerful enough to make a difference- if we are all together. Will you please go back to the King to talk to him with me. Your knowledge will help a lot I know. And there are more elves we will meet there, elves who live within the city of the King, Ayra.”
Oenel was quiet for a moment then nodded, “Alright Luin, I will travel back there with you.”
“On the way back through the forest there are several more elves I would like to visit to bring with us. We will then have a good group.” Luin said.
“Very well then,” Oenel said.

Raven

*
  • 377
  • 0
  • Remember the Imaginari
    • View Profile
    • The Lost Pathway
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #3 on: November 18, 2017, 10:09:04 PM »
Far to the north, in the town of Caelton, Queryn slid the sack of cabbages off his shoulder and onto the back of the tradesman's cart.
"That's the last of them," he said. "Where are you headed?"
The older man scratched his scraggly brown beard and pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
"Ayra," he said.
Queryn leaned against the cart.
"Have you heard anything of the dragons?"
"That's a long way from here, boy. And there's always rumors flying. It's been a long time since dragons came west of the mountains. Who knows that they ever did?"
"You don't believe the stories?"
The tradesman shrugged.
"Didn't say I didn't, didn't say I do."
"What of the elfs?" Queryn asked.
"What of 'em?"
"Do they believe in the dragons?"
"I aint never had much trade with elf-like."
"But surely, you've come from the forest villages. You've seen them. Do they act as if all was normal?"
The older man began scratching his beard again.
"T'be honest with ya," he said. "I did see some as were headed north looking mightily weighted down with packs and things. Like they was moving." He paused. "But you never can tell with them elfs and the like. Not nearly so sensical as dwarfs. With a dwarf, everything is trade."
"I thought dwarfs didn't come west of the mountains, either," Queryn said.
"No, not quite. But I go to Caern mountain, some. Now they's the ones to ask about dragons, not me. I've to go. It's some leagues, now."
With that, the trader stepped up onto the wagon-seat, pulled the brake lever, and clicked to his mules. The wagon creaked away, leaving Queryn standing there, thinking.
Over the past week, every traveler and trader that Queryn spoke with had something to say about dragons, some believing what was happening in the south was true, and some calling it just another traveler's tale.

Queryn jingled the coins in his pocket. Five sacks of cabbages for sale in Ayra had gotten him seventeen copper. Not much, but more than he'd had, and that's not saying much for the 7th son of 12 children born to a Caelton farmer who, if not quite poor, was far from rich. It was the end of the early harvest. There'd be another one before the full autumn, but Queryn had placed all his hopes on the early harvest. Three days ago, he had turned seventeen summers. No longer a boy, and with no hope of inheritance, he'd been allowed to harvest his personal plot of family ground for the last time. With a pocket jingling with coppers, Queryn headed up the Caelton high street, hardly noticing the mix of oxen, farmers, tradesmen, and children mixing in the market square.
The same question returned with each step, beating in his mind like a drum that hadn't stopped since he had planted in spring.
"What now?" He'd slept in a barn on the outskirts of Caelton these nights since his seventeenth.
There were the monks of Aelfwine. . . But they rarely took humans, now adays, and besides -- there were other drawbacks to that. The city guards of Ayra only took children from finer families than his, and it was a hard life to join the royal fleet as a deckhand. Still, it would be nice to see Ayra, the royal city. He had heard it was built upon precious stones of many colors. That's what they said at least. He knew from speaking with the traders who had been there that this was just a tall tale. The foundation stones of the wall were painted many colors, but that was it.
And just like that, Queryn made his decision. He turned on his heel and took off at a sprint. The gruff old tradesman's wagon was out of sight through the throng of people and animals, but it wouldn't be long for Queryn to catch up. Ayra it was, and if the old man wouldn't give him a lift, at least he had his two feet.

***************************************************************

Zithiar let his wings billow and the wind lifted him up higher. With a good wind like this, he need use no energy, need not flap his pinions. The sun was sinking in the west, and there was a scent on the air  -- one he had not smelled in many long years. Salt. Sea. Still far distant. But there, like the tang of a coming season. Yes, the city of the traders he would find.
I thought I saw a unicorn on the way here, but it was just a horse with one of the horns broken off.
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #4 on: November 19, 2017, 02:06:40 PM »
Oenel and Luin collected elves Eldrin, Neldor and Dathlue. Eldrin was a carpenter in the woodlands. He was a sturdy middle-aged elf man with long black hair and gentle green eyes. He wore a brown cloak to keep out the cold. Neldor was around the age of Luin, as was Dathlue. Neldor had strong blue eyes and long brown hair that he wore in a ponytail. He also wore a cloak. Dathlue was an elf maiden like Luin. There was similarity between the appearance of Dathlue and Luin in their small shape and medium height and even features but Luin’s skin was brown and Dathlue’s was porcelain colored. Dathlue, like Luin, wore a thick dress which kept out the cold. Dathlue’s hair was a long auburn brown color. Luin also wore her dark hair long. Oenel was okay with his warm top and pants. The material was thick and though they walked through cool winds, he was content without a cloak.
It would be a several days journey to the city of Ayra. They had packed with them fruit and some dried meats to eat as well as canteens of water and wine. As the elves journeyed they stayed nourished with their meals. They spoke of the magic that they could do to either drive the dragons away or more preferably tame them, so that no matter where they were they would not hurt anyone else. They talked about the city of Ayra, imagining the painted colored foundation stones that the castle of the King was made with. They all felt it would be strange but fascinating to be around humans yet again. The woodland elves often lived in the woods by themselves. It was because Luin had studied healing in the city of Ayra with some elves that made their home in Ayra, that she had become more comfortable around humans and summoned by the King for assistance. Some humans looked skeptically at the elves but most of them were curious and grateful for the elven understanding of nature. Humans would trade with the elves for their crops and woods which would be cultivated in a way of strong reverence for nature and care. The topic of elven magic was also a curiosity to the humans. The elves were strong against using their magic for evil. They used their magic to heal and protect. The magic would come through using nature and there was an energy that the elves possessed that could become visible in their prayer and chanting. The energy would be that of a white color that would glow at their hands. It would be barely visible, unless one looked very closely. The healing energy would then go into whomever they touched. Not all could be cured by elven magic. A mortal wound could not be healed. But emotional wounds were very skillfully healed by elven magic.
The elves traveled during the day and at night they set up tents where they could sleep under the stars. They knew they would be to Ayra soon.

Raven

*
  • 377
  • 0
  • Remember the Imaginari
    • View Profile
    • The Lost Pathway
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #5 on: November 19, 2017, 10:11:34 PM »
Queryn was already beginning to regret his decision. It was mid-morning yesterday when the gruff old trader shrugged his shoulders and allowed Queryn to climb up and sit with his legs dangling off the side of the wagon.
"Don't sit on any of the goods," he'd said. "I don't need to sell flattened cabbages."
So Queryn sat uncomfortably on the edge of the wagon, his back aching, hour after hour. When night had fallen and the air began to chill, he'd expected the trader to stop and make camp, but no. The old man seemed to need little sleep, and on and on he let his team of mules plod on the clay of the night-clad road. Queryn was thinking of letting himself fall off the side of the wagon and sleeping in the road when the trader finally pulled to the side, dropped some hay from the back of the wagon in a pile, hobbled his mules, and lay down across the wagon bench to sleep without so much as starting a fire. Queryn fell asleep on the ground beneath the wagon and only awoke when the wheels began to creak and the trader drove the wagon straight out from overtop of him without so much as saying a word. Leaping to his feet, Queryn climbed back onto the side of the wagon and immediately felt all the sore muscles of yesterday.
"How long to Ayra?" he wanted to ask, but didn't. He knew. It was over twenty leagues to Ayra. At their pace, probably four more days of travel. and the gnawing in Queryn's stomach reminded him of how hasty his decision had been -- he had brought no food, and the silent stare of the trader didn't encourage him to ask if the old man was willing to share, but Queryn hadn't seen him eat anything either -- and with a wagon full of food.
More hours passed. His backside began to ache along with his back. Queryn began to consider abandoning the wagon entirely. He ran his hand through his hair, and then again. He looked down the road. More spreading grassland, patched by occasional crop fields and sparse dogwood and elmbrel trees. Three crows raced overhead, cawing loudly and speeding into the west.
That was it. It was better to walk -- and stop at a croft or farmstead to buy a meal if need be. The trader wouldn't miss him, anyway. Without a word, Queryn hopped down off the side of the wagon. His stiff legs buckled and he fell to his knees.
At that moment, Queryn heard the sound of a strong wind. Sudden heat bore down on his neck. The mules shrieked loudly and the wagon jerked. Looking up, Queryn saw the mules jolt to the side so sharply that the wagon tongue bore against the corner of the wagon. The backs of the mules were aflame, and smoke rose from the wagon. Another gush and flame spurted over the wagon top and wreathed the mules. Sparks swirled past Queryn's face. The terrified, screaming animals attempted to flee. The wagon jerked sideways, and then the monster was on them.
Nearly seven feet long from snout to tail, with wings longer than the wagon itself, slender but shining bright green in the sunlight. With a beat of its wings it descended on on mule, its tail twisting around the neck of the other. A moment later the animals were dead and smouldering. Queryn rolled beneath the burning wagon.
Frantically, he searched his surroundings for a place to hide. All around the road, open meadow and rollings hills stretched. The nearest trees looked to be nearly a furlong away, Already, the bottom of the wagon was growing black, and the heat began to reach him on the ground. In front of the wagon, the creature tore away at the mules. If it turned around, all it would take was a breath. Scooting backwards in the dirt, Queryn reached the back of the wagon, hoping the flames and smoke might hide him. He stood up. The contents of the wagon had mostly been incinerated -- especially at the front. There was no sign of the trader. The creature's twitching wings could be seen over the front of the wagon, hazy through the smoke and heat. Queryn ducked down, and just in time. The beast's head shot up for a moment, mule viscera hanging from its jaws, it's lidless yellow eyes scanning the landscape. Queryn could barely see it through the flames. Fortunately, the creature seemed to be looking beyond the flaming wreck.
Something caught Queryn's eye. It was the haft of a scythe, part of the equipment the trader had been peddling. The upper portion of the handle had already caught fire, and it's long curved blade glowed. Queryn glanced around again. No cover. No hope of escape. It would take some time for the creature to devour those mules, and by then the wagon would be ashes. Even with its hunger sated, Queryn did not expect it would let him run. He could try to flee along the road, heading straight back from the wagon and hoping the beast never looked.
Queryn grasped the scythe. For a moment, he thought of the beard of the old trader who had agreed to let him ride along to Ayra. Queryn was already running alongside the crackling, popping wagon, not noticing the searing heat or the roiling smoke that cloaked his movement. The glowing scythe hung in the air above his head, its blackened haft in his hands. He turned the corner of the wagon.
The creature straightened its neck and hissed, one wing flapping hard as it tried to turn. Two large gaps in its snout flared, and Queryn instinctively dropped to his knees in mid stride, bringing the scythe down with all of his strength.
Flame and heat, and the solid thunk of contact was all he felt, and then pain and burning alone. He felt blinded, the world red and black, and he clawed at his face, rolling in the dirt. He grasped at his tunic and pulled hard to get it over his head, and as he did, he felt strong, quick hands assist him.
"Easy, easy," a voice said with a strange accent. Queryn fought back as the hands began rubbing dirt onto his face and neck, and all he felt was pain. "Easy!" the voice said again. "It's out, now."
Queryn managed to open his left eye and saw the face of an elf. Queryn had seen elfs before -- rarely. They were hard to mistake. Queryn tried to say something, but it only came out as a moan.
"You'll be okay," the stranger said. "But let's away from this cursed flame. It will attract other drakes. These hatchlings have come far north" With surprising strength, the man lifted Queryn to his feet, throwing one arm his his shoulders and wrapping the other around Queryn's waist.
"There is a stream over the hill," he said. "You will live, dragon-slayer."
I thought I saw a unicorn on the way here, but it was just a horse with one of the horns broken off.
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #6 on: November 20, 2017, 06:46:11 PM »
The elves could see the city of Ayra in the distance. The foremost structure to be seen was the castle. The rest of the structures were village cottages and businesses. The village cottages and businesses circled the large castle. There was a large wall that circled around the city of Ayra. It was a beautiful wall of protection. Several hours passed until they got to the gate of the city.
There was a guard at the gate. A human with a kind face.
“Greetings,” Oenel said to the guard.
“Greetings,” the guard said warmly, “Are you here to trade?” The guard asked.
“No, actually we are here to speak with King Merek. He is awaiting our visit.” Oenel said.
“Very well then,” The guard said, “Please enter.”
The elves entered the gate of Ayra and entered the city. There was a large hustle and bustle in the town square. There were many traders and market stands up selling produce and items. Oenel, Luin, Eldrin, Neldor and Dathlue walked among the traders till they passed the hustle and bustle and were walking to the main castle of the King.
The castle was very large and beautiful. One could see it from most anywhere in Ayra. The elves felt some nervousness at speaking with the King but new it was urgent anyhow.
Once at the castle gate they explained to the guard there that they had been summoned to speak with the King about the dragons. The guard then led them up many stairs to the chamber of the King. The King sat on his throne in the middle of the chamber. The ceilings of the room were very tall and the furnishing in the room was beautiful, with a finely carved wooden throne. There were large window that overlooked the city.
“Greetings,” King Merek said with a large smile upon seeing the small group of elves, “Luin,” he added, “You have returned and brought your friends.”
King Merek was tall with cream colored skin and long blond hair. He wore his royal garments.
Luin nodded, “Yes King. We each are skilled with earth magic and we are willing to help you and your Kingdom in any way that we can.”
King Merek smiled, “Very good. Please, tell me a bit about yourself,” he said turning to the elves he did not know.
Oenel spoke first, “King, I am an Elven healer and I studied the art of magic since I was a child.” Eldrin spoke next saying, “King, I am a carpenter. I also studied magic since I was a child in the woods among other elves.” Neldor and Dathlue also explained that they had studied magic in the woods since they were children.
King Merek nodded, pleased with seeing and hearing the elves. “As you know the Dragons have done great harm to our land. My army has tried to stop the dragons with arrows, swords- but nothing in that way keeps them away for long.”
“Yes King,” Oenel said, “Luin has told us how the dragons are ravaging the land and we had heard stories of it as well. What we have to offer is gentle magic which can soothe the emotions of the dragons and possibly tame them. But we would need many more elves. I had thought about Aelfwine Monastery where I know there are elves and humans that are praying and chanting about the healing of the dragons. I know we could find plenty more elves there who if they harness their energy properly we can affect the dragon’s minds, but we would have to touch the dragons. We would have to lure the dragons one at a time. It won’t be easy but it can be done.”
King Merek nodded, “If that is the way you feel will work, I am willing to assist you in any way you need. Thank you for your kindness in coming here and in assisting me.”
King Merek listened and spoke with the elves.



Raven

*
  • 377
  • 0
  • Remember the Imaginari
    • View Profile
    • The Lost Pathway
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #7 on: November 20, 2017, 10:09:14 PM »
Queryn opened his eyes and saw pine needles above him, with brief glimpses of blue as branches moved in a light breeze. There was a blissful moment before he felt the pain. When the pain did arrive in force, it brought Queryn fully awake. He noticed that he could see out of his right eye again. He put his hand up to his face, but quickly pulled it away. It felt gooey. Instead, he looked at his hands. His left hand bore a few scratches, but his right was covered in what looked like chewed up grass mixed with something sticky that he couldn't identify. There was water running nearby, and as he sat up he saw a small brook running through a copse of pine trees. Pain shooting down his right side, he crawled over towards the water. He could feel bits of skin separating as he moved. When he reached the brook, he sank his lips into the flowing water and drank, drank, and drank.
     "Awake again," a voice said. Queryn jerked up and saw the elf. He was walking through the trees carrying a small sack. He reached Queryn and dropped the sack on the ground, near a small pile of other items -- a couple wooden bowls, a pestle, piles of leaves and grass and a small bedroll.
     "I don't remember falling asleep."
     "I put you to sleep," the elf said. "It was much easier that way. You wouldn't have wanted to be awake for what I had to do, anyway. It took a long time. Even unconscious, you screamed."
     "I don't remember."
     "That's a blessing. I was not entirely sure, when I got a good look at you. . . You are fortunate."
     "What happened?"
     "Even a young drake like that one, when he spits fire. You were very close. Some of the bile hit you amidst the flames. If it wasn't removed, it would continue to burn. Gladly it was a young drake, or you would have died. Still, I had to take a great deal of skin. You will live. You will not likely turn a maiden's heart upon a glance. Not in a good way, at least."
     Queryn had a hard time understanding the elf's meaning. His head felt groggy.
     "What is this?" he asked, holding up his hand.
     "A poultice. It will help you heal. Leave it alone. I have replaced it twice a day since you were burned."
     "Twice a . . . Wait, what?"
     "You have been sleeping for three days."
     "How could I sleep for three days?"
    The elf smiled.
     "There is lore older than me," he said. "And I am not as young as some."
     Queryn paused, staring at the elf silently. At length, the slender elf-man who looked little older than thirty years reached forward a hand.
     "Few are the hands of men I have grasped, but few are those that have slain a dragon, hatchling or no. It was a good blow."
     Queryn reached out his left hand and met the elf's.
     "I am called Birdweaver by men, and that is easier than my true name to speak."
     "I am Queryn."
     "Well, Queryn dragons-bane, I have something for you." Birdweaver tossed a small pouch at Queryn. With one hand, Queryn squeezed the top open and peered inside. He saw a vial and a large fang. "Dragon's blood and dragon's fang," said Birdweaver. "Be careful, especially with the blood. Only open that vial if you know what you do. I took some for myself from your kill. I hope you don't begrudge me."
     Queryn shook his head. Setting the pouch down, he looked down at his body for the first time. His right side was covered in the same gooey poultice, from his shoulder to the level of his navel. His right arm and hand were likewise covered, and he could feel something sticky and hardened on his neck and face. He dared not touch it, only tried to ignore the ache he felt all over.   
    "I watched the drake strike from a distance," Birdweaver said. "When you climbed out from the back of the wagon, I expected you to freeze or to run. It did not occur to me that you might attack the beast." Queryn did not reply, nor did he meet Birdweaver's gaze.
    "I am sorry for your companion," Birdweaver said. He waited a moment, and when Queryn didn't respond, he continued. "I dragged you to the brook and submerged you until I could return to the drake. I knew it would not be long until more arrived. These beasts can smell the spilled blood of their own kind from a great distance. And it may have been too great a risk to delay, but I could not bring myself to pass the opportunity to collect the rare blood. We only just arrived at this shelter before I heard them shrieking in the distance." This time Queryn raised his eyes and met Birdweaver's gaze.
    "Where are you headed?" the elf asked.
    "We were headed to Ayra."
    "And where, now?"
    Queryn paused.
    "I myself am heading east," said Birdweaver. "A change in my plans. I have reason to visit Caern Tower."
    "The dwarfs?" Queryn asked.
    "I have no great love of dwarfs, but they have their own arts as well as elfs, and the blood of that drake may be of great use. Dwarfs, it is said, have some knowledge of dragons. Soon this land will be burning far and wide, and I tell you, the City of Ayra is not where I would want to be. Walk with me, dragon-slayer. You'll find no great love in the eyes of the lasses of Ayra, if Ayra there will soon be."
   
« Last Edit: November 20, 2017, 10:29:45 PM by Raven »
I thought I saw a unicorn on the way here, but it was just a horse with one of the horns broken off.
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #8 on: November 23, 2017, 04:19:14 PM »
The King paused to introduce the wood elves to three city elves that entered the room as they spoke. The elves wore royal garments and worked for the King. The city elves were cordial and were assisting the Kings army but had been summoned to speak with the woodland elves. The King recounted to the city elves the story of how the wood elves would travel to Aelfwine Monastery and lure dragons to their healing. The city elves listened intently, pleased with the new hope for the land.
King Merek motioned to the city elves saying, “They will see that you stay here comfortably until you leave for Aelfwine Monastery.”
Luin responded gratefully. “That is greatly appreciated King Merek. We will stay here for five days and rest before we travel again if that is okay?”
“That is perfectly well,” King Merek said. He paused for a moment then continued to speak. “The elves will show you to your bed chamber. We will have a meal in the dining hall shortly,” King Merek said. The city elves lead the woodland elves to their bedroom. The bedrooms had beautiful wooden beds, intricately carved and beautiful fabrics for the sheets. There were large windows overlooking the city.
The woodland elves relaxed in their rooms and rested until they were called to dine with the King and the city elves. The woodland elves stayed there in the castle five days before heading out to Aelfwine Monastery. The woodland elves had spoken to the city elves and the King about Aelfwine Monastery at length during their stay. Aelfwine Monastery was said to be one of the most Holy places in the land. It was beautiful structures of white stone. Those who lived at Aelfwine Monastery lived simply and had few possessions. Elf kin and humans alike could join the monastery.

Raven

*
  • 377
  • 0
  • Remember the Imaginari
    • View Profile
    • The Lost Pathway
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #9 on: November 23, 2017, 10:23:58 PM »
In the midst of Clyde Town, Zithiar stretched his neck forward and the air burst with fire. Yes, this was beginning to wet his appetite. The smoke roiled and curled into the sky, and still he heard the screaming. With a lunge he was in the air again. There was no resistance, just flailing bodies and running feet. Faster than an arrow he sped around the outskirts of the town, fire spewing from him and wreathing the fleeing people. He had come upon them in an instant. It was a prosperous town, no village this. Thousands must live there -- must have lived there. Zithiar landed again and roared. The merchant's houses would be filled with gold and silver. It would melt and run on the soil, and once this land was ashes, he would return and collect his own, and if any of those young dragons came to it first, he would find their meager hoards and take all that was rightfully his. He leapt into the air again, fire still spewing from his second nostrils. He beat his wings until he was right over the midst of the town, swirling sparks flying upwards on the superheated air. Spreading his wings, he rode the boiling current higher and higher. He spun once, just for sheer delight. Two furlongs in the sky, he drifted out of the smoke.
Ah, all of the people seemed to be streaming towards the northwest. Yes, they would take him right to their city -- and their king. They would go to their liege for help, the fools. Nothing could help them, but like so many cattle he would corral them and devour them. And the only thing that tasted better than a king was a queen -- or a princess. And within the charred walls of the city he would gather his hoard into the palace and wait to challenge all comers. There, through the long years, he would grow even more massive yet. This land was his.
This was the Land of Zithiar.


« Last Edit: November 23, 2017, 10:52:47 PM by Raven »
I thought I saw a unicorn on the way here, but it was just a horse with one of the horns broken off.
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #10 on: November 28, 2017, 04:52:40 PM »
It was a six-day journey for Luin, Oenel, Eldrin, Neldor and Dathlue to arrive to Aelfwine Monastery. When they arrived to the monastery Luin saw how beautiful it was. It was a tall white structure made of white stones. There was a garden outside of the monastery that had roses, lilacs and violets. The woodland elves went to the main door of the monastery and knocked on the door.
The door opened and there was an elven woman with black hair, peach skin and a long white robe.
“Greetings,” the Elven woman said.
“Greetings, my name is Luin and these are my friends, Oenel, Eldrin, Neldor and Dathlue. We have come to speak with someone about the problem of the dragons.” Luin said.
The Elven woman nodded, “Very well. My name is Esta. I am the owner of the monastery. You have the right one to speak with. Come follow me so we can be seated and talk.”
The woodland elves followed Esta into the monastery. It was beautiful inside. The inside of the building was stone too and there were large windows in the hallway. The woodland elves followed Esta into a small comfortable room which had a large desk and a vase with lilacs on the table.
“Here,” Esta said, “Be seated and we can speak on the dragons.”
The woodland elves sat down at the table.
“Esta,” Luin began, “King Merek has given us the mission to help with ending the reign of the dragons. We came here to gather other elves who will use their energy to heal the dragons one by one. We can lure the dragons here and find a way to touch them and use our healing energy to calm their minds and heal the wounds in their minds that makes them cruel.”
Esta listened. The soft sunlight shown through the window of the room onto the table.
“Very well then,” Esta said, “I will help you with this. We have many here who pray for the dragons. We can have all here pray more and find a way to touch the dragon during the prayer. Perhaps if we all hold hands while we touch the dragons. I feel it could work.”

Raven

*
  • 377
  • 0
  • Remember the Imaginari
    • View Profile
    • The Lost Pathway
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #11 on: November 28, 2017, 10:18:03 PM »
Queryn's face still throbbed, although his arm had started to feel better the previous day. It had been eight days since his injury. They were six miserable days. Birdweaver still tended Queryn's burns morning and evening, but the rest of the day was silent, painful plodding through the forests, sometimes on deer trails. Birdweaver had assured Queryn it was safer that way, as the drakes would be hunting the roads. Still, every branch, every twig, every leaf that came in contact with Queryn's face or arm was a misery. And the flies and midges. . . Birdweaver's poultice was working -- there was no infection, and the wounds seemed to be healing slowly. Still, the flies loved the poultice too, and Queryn had to keep his left hand constantly moving to ward them off. Birdweaver had tried to keep up conversation, but Queryn was in too much pain to enjoy speaking. Without entirely knowing why, he just kept following Birdweaver through the woods. Sometimes, he wished he had gone back to Caelton. At least he would know how his family fared in this wretched plague of dragons. Refugees had been streaming through the forest. They had not seen any in two days; all had been heading west, towards Ayra. Only Queryn and Birdweaver seemed to desire to go east.
Sometimes Queryn wondered if he had done wrong, leaving his family behind to follow an elf through the woods.
Yesterday, they had climbed up above the forest canopy. It was the first time Queryn could remember looking down on anything from more than the height of a tree. Now as he and Birdweaver rested on the moss-covered ridgeline of a low foothill below Caern Mountain, Queryn gazed for miles across the blue-green expanse of forest below.
      "No smoke. No fires. No people," Queryn said, taking a drink from Birdweaver's water flask.
      "People there are, well enough, both men and elfs still in the forest," Birdweaver responded. "But none so foolhardy as to announce their presence in such times with a trail of smoke into the sky."
      "If there are dragons here," Queryn said, "then we are open to the world on this ridge." The sky above their heads was blue and clear, and the ridgeline looked green, but not from trees. Certainly, a few gnarly scrub pines grew there, but a hardy moss or lichen covered the rocks, coloring the hillside drab.
      "The dragons' eyes are to the west, lad," Birdweaver said. "We will reach Caern tower tonight, and safety. The dragons will not bother with dwarfs. They are too canny to the ways of serpents of fire."
     "Will they be able to defeat the dragons, then?"
     "Dwarfs survive by hiding," Birdweaver said. "And forging. Come, it is time we be on. Tonight, we will drink dwarfin ale and hear heavy dwarfin counsel."

******************************

Zithiar craned his long neck above the treetops, so only his snout and eyes could be seen above the leaves. He had hidden at the edge of the forest. From there, he could look over planes criss-crossed by roads and blanketed by cultivated fields. Cottages and farms stood apparently empty with no signs of life. Some had been burned and only their foundation stones remained. He knew young drakes would have proceeded his pace. Zithiar did not hurry. Zithiar's did not need to hurry. But now something pricked at his mind, like a peddle under a scale, rubbing and grinding and annoying him. And the other dragons . . . He had seen two yesterday, heading south west. Today, there were even more, dotted across the horizon, flying south. But Zithiar knew by now where the city was. He had even flown high, high, until he could see its flickering lights in the dark of night leagues away. But still the young hatchlings flew south. Zithiar had expected to fight the others to claim the city.
Elfs. Zithiar knew it was elfs. He could feel their tickling, digging prayers, their awful magic. It called. It asked. It pleaded. It persuaded. It. . . tried to sooth. It would work on the weak-minded young drakes. All the better. Get them out of his way, by all means.
But Zithiar could not rest peacefully until the elfs stopped turning their minds at him, spreading the land with their presence. He gazed into the west towards the city of Ayra, and then turned and gazed to the south.
The prize? Or the enemy? Which should he devour first?

I thought I saw a unicorn on the way here, but it was just a horse with one of the horns broken off.
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #12 on: December 09, 2017, 04:46:06 PM »
“The dragons have only been getting worse,” Oenel said, “They kill humans, elves, livestock without a care. We have to get this problem under control.”
Esta nodded, “We will, if anyone can help we can. I will tell all here about the plan tonight at a meeting. You can stay here in the monastery. You will meet many elves and humans that would be glad to assist you.”
Luin looked out the window to see the soft blue sky and the light coming through the window.
“We would like to attend the meeting tonight too Esta, if we may.” Luin said.
“Yes, certainly,” Esta said, “We have a main room where we hold prayer and the meeting will be there.” Esta explained.
Esta for a moment pushed her long black hair off her shoulder and began to braid it into a long braid with a burdened expression on her face.
“I knew a day like this would have to come,” Esta said. Esta continued to speak, “Our land cannot deal with the dragons anymore and the elves are the lands only hope. I knew that the problem of the dragons would result in us having to step forward and use our magic. We here have been praying for a day such as this, I just know it won’t be easy.” Esta looked down for a moment then back at Luin.
Luin could see the worry in Esta’s eyes but also the piercing hope.
Neldor spoke, “This is what you have been praying for Esta. We elves are healers and the humans are with us, praying too. We are going to be victorious we just need to have all the elves we can with us. We need not be scared. There is no time for that. We need to be brave.”
Luin watched Neldor as he spoke. There was strength in Neldor’s voice and passion for healing.
Luin turned to look at the window again, at the beautiful light entering the room and covering the table.




Raven

*
  • 377
  • 0
  • Remember the Imaginari
    • View Profile
    • The Lost Pathway
Re: The Land of Ayra
« Reply #13 on: December 10, 2017, 08:22:46 PM »
Two doors of blackest iron took up most of the front of the squat tower that loomed up from the crest of Caern Mountain. Queryn could barely see the slight fissure where the doors met, so fine was their craftsmanship. Birdweaver grasped the round iron knocker with both hands, a grimace playing around his mouth. He glanced at Queryn.
"We have no love of iron," he mumbled, and then raised the knocker and slammed it into the doors. They could hear the rumble within the tower for a mountain, followed by silence.
"Again?" Queryn asked when no other sound followed. Birdweaver just shook his head. There they stood, with the evening stars beginning to appear in the clear mountain sky. Birdweaver turned his back to the doors and looked to the heavens.
"Do you know the stars, Queryn?" he asked.
"I know the Star of Luned," Queryn said, pointing with his left hand. His right arm was still clutched defensively to his side.
"Yes," Birdweaver said. "Luned is a star beloved by humans, turning in the skies according to the harvesting of your crops." The elf pointed to the north, towards a bright star just rising above the horizon. "That is the Watcher's Star, translated from the old elfin. It is the star closest to the hearts of we elfin folk." Queryn did not reply.
"That, however, is the dragon star." Birdweaver now pointed into the east. Queryn had seen the star before. It had a red glow, like a far-distant fire. "It is said that once the dragon-star burned green," Birdweaver said. "Once when the elfin folk were many, and their prayers more numerous."

"What is your business, elf and human?" a gravelly voice asked from behind them. Queryn spun around. The two iron doors had swung open without so much as a sound, and there in the gap stood what looked like a man, only half the height, stocky, and with a mask of carven iron over his face. Torchlight flickered from sconces within the tower, backlighting him and the two silent masked figures who stood with spears on either side of the entrance.
"We come to seek the counsel of the dwarfs," Birdweaver said. The foremost dwarf made a grating, gurgling sound that Queryn could not identify. "'This no laughing matter," Birdweaver continued. "The dragons fill the skies."
"This we have seen," the dwarf replied. "Still, at our gate is no dragon, but an elf and a burned man smelling of elfin medicine."
"No dragons at your gates, but soon at the gates of Ayra. Is this not a trading post? With whom will you trade?"
"And what would you have of us?"
"We bring the blood of a drake, one slain by this burned man," Birdweaver said. Queryn thought he saw the slightest of movement from the two silent guards with spears, a shifting of the weight from one foot to the other, perhaps. The foremast dwarf remained stock still, but he spoke:
"You will dine on dwarfin bread and ale, tonight, elf and dragon-slayer."
I thought I saw a unicorn on the way here, but it was just a horse with one of the horns broken off.