Board Thread:Random RP/@comment-26210095-20160920234634/@comment-26444332-20160927173025

Aramirtheranger wrote: Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote:

Aramirtheranger wrote:

Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote:

Aramirtheranger wrote:

Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote:

Aramirtheranger wrote:

Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote:

Aramirtheranger wrote:

Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote:

Aramirtheranger wrote:

Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote:

Aramirtheranger wrote:

Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote:

Aramirtheranger wrote: Abantu messengers are sent out to all the kingdoms(exception being the Empire). Bearing the gift of an ayina broadsword for the ruler and seeking alliance. The messenger to Aloria is stopped at the height of Wyvere Pass, by a man dressed in a blue cassock-like robe. Unlike most dragons, this one appears to lack wings.

'Hold there,' he calls in a friendly tone. 'Who approaches?' "I am a courier from the Abantu Confederacy. I bring a gift for your leader and words from my master."

This is the same answer everyone gets if they ask. 'I see. You will not be able to approach the castle on foot, I'm afraid: It sits on a shard of floating land about half a mile into the sky,' the dragon says, sighing. 'I can fly you there, if it is imperative that you speak with our leaders.' "I've no clue how, and I'm not speaking to them. I'm dropping this here enchanted sword off with a letter, and then heading back home once you've given an answer." 'So you merely wish to deliver a letter?' he remarks, sighing. 'Alright.'

The dragon then raises one hand to the air, fingers splayed.

I, who awakened to the principles of devotion, do now release my seal. I am Seiryū.'

Blue flames mask the man for a few moments, and then disappear, revealing a massive (and wingless) Oriental dragon, with azure scales. It extends one clawed forefoot.

'Climb into my palm, mortal, and I shall take you to where you can deliver this message.' He may or may not have urinated a little. He gets on the foot. Seiryū crouches down briefly.

'Hold on, little one,' is the only warning he gives, before leaping into the sky, his body twisting and spiraling through the air (though his forefoot with the terrified messenger remains stationary).

Over sheer precipices and rocky gullies they fly, over snow-capped peaks and bare cliffs. The messenger can tell from the winding track below that it's possible to make it on foot, though difficult. Finally, they pass between two tall mountains with sides smooth and long, the "Sky Gates", shooting through the gap.

On the other side is a seeming paradise. A large green valley stands before them, with a shining lake, calm waters as blue as any summer sky, reflecting the sun above. Forest dominates much of the area, red and gold and green and pink, from cherry-blossoms to falling oak-leaves. A few trees with leaves of silver are there as well to be seen, the mystic and tough Elderwood by which the dragons fashion their bows and swords.

And flying high above are dragons. Dozens of the great serpents dominate the skies, from house-sized Western dragons to Oriental dragons so large, they could wrap themselves around one of the mighty peaks surrounding the valley and have room to move their heads about.

Ahead, a massive pale castle, covered in ivy and with dragonblossom trees pervading the atmosphere, looms. Upon a shard of floating land it sits, unassailable, smaller islands around it.

Seiryū lands the messenger in the courtyard, gently lowering his forefoot to the ground.

'I shall remain here until your business is concluded,' he informs the man.

A man approaches in gilded plate-and-mail armor and a white cloak, large golden batlike wings on his back shimmering and reflecting the light in hundreds of places.

'Please, this way.' "Hurrgh... all... right."

He vomits a few moments later. At least there won't be anything to eject next time. After being taken to a washroom to clean himself off, he is presented in a massive entrance hall. Inside said hall lies a Western dragon with beautiful silver scales, large enough to comfortably wrap around the room twice (which it does). Beside her sits an ethereal woman in ancient silver armor with a white cloak, and two angelic wings.

The Dragoness looks at the messenger with something like interest in her eyes.

'I am Avrora, the Silver Dragon Empress,' she says in a lilting accent, her mouth unmoving. 'What business brings a man of the Abantu to our door?' "I bear a letter and a gift from the Abantu Confederacy." The dragon empress dips her head in acknowledgment.

'Then read your letter to me, by all means, and present your gift.' He clears his throat and begins to read.

To whom it may concern:

''Greetings. My name is Ayanda, yinkosi of the Abantu Confederacy. For many years we have been isolationist, refusing contact with the Outside. No more. I have decided to lead my people into a new era, and most of my Council is of the same opinion. As a token of friendship, please accept these items. In our culture to present a broken weapon is a sign of peace, and the intact blade is of the finest materials and workmanship available to us. It is my hope that this exchange may lead to future ties.''

The messenger opens his satchel, and pulls out a bronze dagger that has been snapped in half, and then unfastens from his belt one of the swords he's wearing. The scabbard is gilt with silver and sapphires, and the hilt is etched with symbols on the guard and pommel. Avrora dips her head once more, and the woman in silver (recognizable as a Valkyrie, a battle-spirit) retrieves the weapons from him, bringing them closer to the Dragoness's eye for her to see.

'Hmm... craftsmanship aside, Ayina blades are rare indeed,' she murmurs, her hum filling the hall. She raises her head and extends it like a questing serpent, until her man-sized eye is peering directly at him, the swirling silver of her iris like mercury in a centrifuge.

'Tell your yinkosi his gift is appreciated. As part of our culture, it is custom to provide a gift in return, therefore...' the dragon lifts her head. 'Elsa, bring me Kōtetsu.'

The Valkyrie nods, disappears, and re-appears a moment later, a long bundle of maroon cloth in her hands. The spirit unwraps it to reveal a nodachi with a red-brown scabbard, wrapped grip, and golden adornments, as well as a stylized golden tsuba. The spirit proceeds to partially draws the blade to reveal a shining silver, with just a hint of blue. The Valkyrie then proffers it to the messenger.

'This is Kōtetsu, one of the few metal weapons of dragon-make left in this world. Please, have your leader accept this. It is forged of what you might call Skysteel, so it will never break, nor chip, crack, or dull.' "Eh.. thanks. Can I go now? Or do you want to send a message with me?" 'Unless you have further messages, you are free to go,' Avrora replies.