Daelor's hunt

Roslia didn't know what to make of the situation, but she contemplated leaving the group. Familiar with Iferit's abilities, she perfectly understood his intentions. These were just pawns at his command, sent at the group to amuse him. Her feisty mirror had readied himself for an attack, but before he could continue, she placed a hand on his shoulder blade where his injured wing extended from, "Not this time, Helock."

Helock looked up at the humanoid in disappointment, but didn't question her. He recalled the last time he fought Iferit's legion. Every one of those abominations are reanimated by a virus, and unfortunately for Helock, the virus was capable of infecting dead tissue which happened to be what 70% of his body was. It had caused his limbs to disobey him, and the result was having his limbs dismembered by Roslia and having them replaced - it was a rough night for the both of them. He grunted at Roslia, a silent acknowledgement, and then joined the others on the outcropping.

After sensing Sylvanas's presence fade, she realized what Daelor's intention was. He wouldn't leave them, probably because Helock couldn't fly. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. Daelor's rare display of chivalry was enough to convince her to join the fray, and she dashed out onto the field, making sure the heat of the mages' spells were not intersecting with her path. The blasts that echoed off of their lifeless forms gave her insight to which were still "alive" and moving. When she spotted such a foe, she quickly approached it, threw her arm around around specific parts of their body, and gave an invisible object in her hands a tug. She did this for every remaining foe, and when a loud roar above her signaled the entrance of yet another dragon, she sprinted back to the front near the outcropping just in time for the fire to clear out the remainder of the front lines.

What a mess. Roslia thought to herself, fumbling with the transparent strings in her hands. She thought about whether or not Iferit would show himself soon, but figured he wouldn't just bound out and greet them himself... or would he? Roslia took a step forward, gripping the ends of the strings in one hand then reached out to grasp the length in front of her. With a viscous tug too strong for human standards, the sinew wrapped around the undeads' joints yanked forward with such force that whatever remained of their bodies was suddenly in many places at once. Several satisfying thuds triggered a smirk from Roslia, and the earth in front of her finally stopped writhing as silence fell upon the Boneyard again.

_______________________________________

Helock watched his curator weave around the battlefield with an extraordinary ability to dodge both the mages' attacks and the undead that occasionally swiped at her. His legs were twitching in excitement, since he was using what little self control he had to stay put. His spasm finally ended when startled by the guardian that had approached, and spotted Sylvanas dangling dangerously on her talons. Squinting to get a better look at the viridian dragon, a hint of familiarity struck him - he recognized her, but couldn't recall from where. When her toxic flames touched the battlefield, he rose his neck, scanning for Roslia, but then relaxed when he noticed her standing below him.

"Fools. A bunch of critters and suddenly we're at war." He mumbled under his breath.

When Renivis stopped attacking, Helock shifted to gaze at him. He noticed the mirror collapse then started yelling incoherently. Lowering himself into a defensive stance, Helock paid close attention to Renivis than anything else happening around him,and growled.

((If anyone is curious, Roslia uses sinew to make her strings, thus they are semitransparent, readily available, and very strong. Helock and Roslia also spill a lot of information about Iferit in narration, but the group does not know that they have met Iferit before.))

Iferit rolled in mad laughter as his minions where mowed down before him. He gained great amusement in seeing his creations suffer. Their purpose was only to amuse him, and in that they had succeeded. Dust kicked up around him, and he snapped out of his spasm, suddenly stopping and fixing his sight on the group, realizing he may risk detection. He watched carefully, a silent grin still on his face as he scooped out the situation. 

“This is most interesting, such vigor they have in their attacks. “ Iferit stood up slowly as the dust faded away. “This will do fine indeed. Yes, just fine.” 

A snicker left his lips as he headed to the back of the group, staying out of sight and taking advantage of the distraction caused by his minions. As he zeroed in on the dragons, it became increasingly aware to him that the red glow about him would soon give him away. The tribal like pattern of deep, arcane infused, scars riddled his body from face to tail bearing an unmistakable resemblance to the undead that had just been dismembered before him. 

“Wonderful, WONDERFUL.” Iferit shouted as he came close enough to the group to be noticed. “Wonderfully amusing are they not!?” he chuckled as he continued moving closer, ignorant to any discontent towards him as the party recovered from the assault. 

He looked at the dragons gathered above and gave a look of dissatisfaction for a moment as he scanned their expressions then smiled and looked towards Roslia.

“Roslia, my dear, you must introduce me to your… friends.” He spoke, a vicious tinge of malice to his voice, a permanent consequence of the parasite living inside him. “They would seem to be very capable.” he smiled in their direction, looking away from Roslia and completely ignoring Helock.

Valthyra let go of Sylvanas as she settled in for a landing near the group. The little fae fluttered over and landed on Daelor’s back and hugged his neck. Valthyar lowered her head to nuzzle the tundra.

“You. What are you doing out here?”

Daelor grinned as he nuzzled her back. “Looking for the thing, must find it.”

“What thing now?”

“It’s old, and it’s big.”

She suppressed a chuckle, “Bigger than you?”

“Maybe.”

Her crimson eyes met his and Daelor felt the deep resonance of her mental voice echo through his mind.

I can’t stay too long, Unforgiven’s likely suspicious if he noticed me take off without saying anything to him.

Yes. Probably.

Are you going to be alright?

Will be fine.

Sylvanas can’t fly that fast, how did she get back to the clan?

Crystal.

You’ve been using the teleportation crystals again? How many of those things do you have?

Enough.

Of course. Well, you better get back home in one piece or so help me I’ll hunt you down, put you back together and beat you senseless and you won’t have to pretend anymore. So be careful.

Always am. He grinned up at the big guardian.

Valthyra sighed and shook her head. “Of course.”

Turning her head, she took in the rest of the group. She recognized Roslia and Helock. “Hello to the rest of you as well. Is everyone alright?”

She inwardly winced as the words left her mouth because her gaze fell up on the devastated condition of Helock’s wing. But that also clearly explained why the group had stood fighting that horde rather than taking wing and fleeing. Daelor would never leave anyone behind.

The sound of mad laughter and soon the spoken words of a strange dragon drew her attention away from the group. Growling fiercely she stepped forward, the beginning embers of her toxic flame glowing between her teeth as she prepared to sear the newcomer to a crisp.

Daelor nudged her to wait as he heard the new dragon’s words. Then he glanced at Roslia. “Know this one?”

Sylvanas had scurried back up the tundra’s neck to perch herself on his head, and peered over the fluffy forelock to see the new dragon approaching. Something about that one turned her blood cold and she pressed herself as close as she could to Daelor’s skull.

"I-algadsng...." A splitting headache dominated Renivis' mind as he strained to get back up. The words in his head quickly died and faded to nothing as he urged himself back up. The world spun in a twirling vortex of colors as he looked around, first thing to see was Helock staring menacingly at him. His voice came garbled and confounding.

"...Hey, if you're just going to stand there, you might as well try to..." He shambled around and took another look around himself to see Daelor casually chatting with a guardian, presumably the one that rained fiery green hell upon the cadavers earlier. He observed the corpse filled battlefield before sighing annoyingly.

"...Ah." When the two were finished and the guardian addressed the group, he replied, "A-ah hello, I suppose we're... all fine..." He glances at Helock's tattered wing, "...Mostly." Growling a little, he rubbed his head, wincing at the remaining pain. He shut his eyes for a few stinging seconds before opening up to hear insane laughing and another dragon approaching. Something about him radiated something awful and ghastly. The energy that came off him was similar to the undead. It was hard to believe in coincidences at the moment.

Growling low and aggressively, he started, "I presume you were the one who threw a bunch of dead stuff into our faces. What do you want?" He turned to the rotting dead for a split second, "And how did you do that?"

As the disoriented mirror recovered from his breakdown, Helock closed in on him, glossing his teeth with his tongue. He had noticed the several times that Renivis had been distracted, and concluded that his weakness showed far too often. There is no better moment to attack your prey than when it's down on the ground, or just getting back up...

Helock's eyes narrowed and he grinned, tensing for an assault, but when the large blur of green landed near him, he became distracted and looked up at the guardian. He observed as she silently conversed with Daelor, and when she greeted them, he finally remembered who she was.

"Valthyra." Helock snorted, loosening up as he realized attacking Renivis in front of Valthyra was not a smart idea, "Don't you have better things to do than waste your breath on some worms?" He eyed the distance, somewhat annoyed yet satisfied at the defeated legion.

Before he found an answer, an undesirable voice reached his ears. If he could feel anymore, chills would have ran down his spine as he turned to face his self-declared mortal enemy. There was no mistaking him. A pitch dark mirror with glowing red scars pattering his body. Iferit.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Roslia had been facing the group, smiling at Valthyra as a greeting albeit feeling Iferit drawing closer to the group. She sighed, and scolded herself, I suppose this is what I get for not running. The more she thought of how to address the group about the lunatic mirror, the more nervous she became. Ironically, when she finally turned around and "saw" the unmistakable outline of arcane energy radiating off of the mirror, her emotions fell silent, and her anxiety was numbed.

She took in the conversation that Iferit directed at the group above her, then the words directed to her, "...you must introduce me to your... friends."

"Know this one?" Daelor queried.

Time seemed to slow as she realized Valthyra was probably listening, and everyone was curious for an answer. How did she get herself mixed up with such a maniac? Roslia wondered, but finally gave a reply to Daelor.

"I know of him." Roslia didn't budge, she wouldn't give Iferit the pleasure of reading her emotions, and before Daelor had to ask, she added, "Clan friend or foe, he hasn't proven to be either, Daelor. I will let you decide how we should deal with him."

"Cut the crap, Roslia." Helock descended from the ledge and landed in front of her, hammering the ground. "We get rid of him. NOW."

Roslia expected her companion to simply lunge at Iferit like he normally did, but his growling told her that he was holding back. She simply waited, knowing Helock wouldn't attack the noxious mirror.

((Mostly a note to self: Roslia is on the ground, she never joined the others at the top of the outcropping. Renivis and Helock are having a staring contest before Valthyra descends and speaks to Daelor. Roslia has been listening in on the conversation above, sensing Iferit drawing near. Iferit comes in after Valthyra finishes speaking with Daelor. Iferit is also on the ground level with Roslia.))

Iferit watched Helock as he shot down from above him, giving no response to his rashness. He knew that Helock wouldn’t dare to attack him, less he be betrayed by the rot that infests his being…


“You are too kind Helock, friend…” smiling at him, observing the damage to his wing before glancing up at the tundra atop the cliff… “Surly a friendly game of swat the maggots doesn’t justify any discrepancies towards me does it now? “ There was a slyness to the way Iferit spoke, and a calmness that was almost unnerving.

Iferit scanned the group: the great tundra with matted fur and a strangeness to him that clashed with his previous display of power, the weak fae atop his mane so brittle in appearance, the curious mirror who seemed to be all but ignored, and of course, Helock and Roslia who were granting him their full attention. He had almost forgotten the guardian in the sky above him when the flapping of its great wings grabbed his attention. The group was unsure of him and it showed but Iferit took no notice to it, oblivious to their uneasiness with him, or so it would seem anyway.

He looked back at the group atop the hill, directing his question specifically at the tundra and mirror, “My pets didn’t cause you too much trouble did they? A bothersome bunch they can be sometimes.” He snickered before looking back to Roslia and Helock, smiling from his self-amusement.

Valthyra tilted her head to regard Helock with one crimson eye as though he were just another petulant hatchling. With a slight grin she displayed the immense and precise control she held over her breath and launched a small toxic fireball. It landed only a few feet from Helock, close enough that feeling beings would have felt the heat from it. It sizzled and crackled as its acidic nature caused it to eat into the rotting ground leaving a corroded crater in its wake.

“Always a pleasure to see you too, Helock.” She smirked.

Turning her attention toward Iferit, she growled. “I suggest you keep any further such amusements to yourself.” The tone of her voice made it clear she’d just as soon reduce him to a smoldering pile of bones as not if he gave her any reason to.

Daelor moved up beside her and gently nudged her shoulder.

Can go home. Can handle this. No surprise now.

The guardian looked over at Daelor and nodded. She had known him for a long time now, and even still forgot the depths of power he kept concealed behind his absentminded fluffy façade. He had been caught by surprise with the massive horde, but now that Iferit was in front of him, he felt confident he could handle anything the other mirror could dish out. The idea of necromancy left a sour taste in Valthyra’s mouth though, and she hated its practice even though she knew Daelor also dabbled in the art.

Are you sure? I don’t trust him.

Am sure. Am prepared now.

Alright. I suppose it’s time for me to get back and to deal with Unforgiven.

Yes. Will be fine. Don’t worry.

With you, that’s not an option. Just be careful.

Giving Iferit one last meaningful glance, the big guardian launched herself skyward, showering the group with dirt and debris kicked up by the down stroke of her wings. Daelor turned back and walked over to Renivis, pointedly ignoring Iferit aside from a brief response to his question.

“No, no bother.”

He had observed Renivis’ discomfort and recognized the signs of the probable causes. He fished a small mushroom out of his satchel and held it out to the mirror.

“Eat this, will help.”

He patted Renivis’ head before turning back around to face Roslia and Helock. He sat back on his haunches and Sylvanas had to scramble to shift her position so she didn’t slide off. Daelor considered Roslia’s words. "Clan friend or foe, he hasn't proven to be either, Daelor."

He sighed and glanced at the sky, as though consulting with the clouds above. Finally he stood back up and shook his head.

“Matters not. Wasted enough time; must get moving.”

Without another thought toward the loathsome mirror he resumed his journey to find the mysterious thing, and trusted his companions to keep up if they wished to continue on with him.

*********

In the distance a bright green guardian frowned and muttered disappointed curses as she’d watched Daelor’s group survive the undead horde.

“Figures she would save him.”

As the group appeared ready to move on again, she huffed even more as her feet protested doing so much walking.

*********

Far above the diseased Boneyard the group wandered through, a large bone fiend circled. Its skeletal form blended in with the clouds making it nearly impossible to spot if one wasn’t looking for it. It hovered for a moment, watching the group, before casting a glance toward the guardian who thought she was so well hidden.

Its ruby eyes glowed as it relayed all that it saw to its master.

*********

Valthyra landed in the clearing just outside the hatchery and nesting grounds of the Clan and shook the dust off her painted scales. Before she could even take a step she heard an unmistakable voice.

“A pleasant day for a hunt, it would seem. I trust you were… successful?”

Valthyra swallowed and took a deep breath as she turned to face the source of that voice.

“Yes, Unforgiven, it is a good day for hunting. I was successful, thank you.”

The mottled green imperial was perched on the rock ledge above her, his head casually resting on his forelegs, while his crimson eyes seemed to bore straight through her.

“I haven’t seen Daelor today. Have any idea where he is?”

She shrugged, “None at all. You know how he is. He probably wandered off to look for things for his experiments.”

Unforgiven tilted his antlered head. “Indeed. I do know.”

He moved off the ledge, his long, lean form almost appearing to flow off the rocks like a green river. He circled around and moved up beside her, twisting his head so that they were eye to eye.

“Was there anything else, Unforgiven?”

“No, you may go. See to the hatchlings.”

“As you wish.”

Unforgiven watched her disappear into the cavern that served as the clan’s nesting grounds and hatchery, and then turned his gaze toward the distant Wyrmwound. He chuckled to himself.

Yes. I know.

Well, the mirror ignored me, he thought to himself. What a great way to kick off a session of no Voices whatsoever. It was clear, however, that this thing would not likely interfere any longer in their quest. Renivis scoffed at the mirror before noticing the guardian exiting the area without warning. Why did she leave? She would likely be a benefactor if the mirror- before he could inquire any further he was offered a rather interesting mushroom from Daelor.

"Eat this, will help." Daelor said.

"...I- wait- what?"

Eating a mushroom while already being mentally unstable seemed like a terrible plan. However, he could trust Daelor from what he has seen so far. So long as he doesn't pat his head again. Holding onto the small mushroom, he sighed anxiously and downed it in less than a second. He felt a mild sense of comfort before settling down, and he noticed a lack of abuse on his mental wall. Investigating further, the pain seemed to have lessened from his earlier strike, and the influence the voices had on him seemed lesser.

He stared at Daelor, "...Thank you." He took distinctive glance at the mirror. Then began pursuing Daelor as he trecked onward. He didn't really care that the mirror performed necromancy, all he cared about is that it was used on him and his companions. However, revenge had to wait for a debt to be repaid. Aniphi had likely sent out a spy to investigate, and now all he had to do was be one step forward at all costs. Clearly the spy was using all his or her time and effort to pursue him.

He groaned, "This is going to be the longest day..."

...

...Meanwhile, a white fae in a tux remained in a blissful snooze...

The sound of beating wings indicated Valthyra's departure, and Roslia breathed a sigh of relief. That wasn't so painful. she thought to herself as Daelor merely disregarded Iferit and continued onward. She took a moment to herself to muse over what had happened, but still felt Iferit's burning gaze on her. Why has Iferit been following them? Was it really going to be alright for him to tag along with the group? Nothing the psychotic mirror did seemed without selfish purpose, and she started suspecting Iferit. However, she decided that whether or not Iferit followed was no longer her concern. There were a lot of unanswered questions, but there was no time to ask when she heard Daelor's scuffling quicken away from her. Not wishing to delay the group any further, she simply motioned Helock to follow as she picked up pace to catch up with Daelor, Sylvanas, and Renevis.
______________________________________________________________________________________

The scent of Valthyra's acidic breath still bit Helock's nose and he sneered at her as she left. Shaking off the debris from her launch, he glanced at Iferit before flicking his tongue at him, "When did you elevate me to being your 'friend'?" 

He turned around, and continued to mumble something about creepy, egotistic necromancers. Iferit didn't scare him, but unless he had a good strike at his vital parts, his attacks would only backfire. He peered at Roslia who had made off ahead of him and wondered to himself, Why won't she get rid of him? If we just worked together... 

He shook his head, teamwork was an alien thought to him, but he played out a scenario in his head anyway, satisfied with his imaginary result. As his hind foot gripped a rock, he absentmindedly kicked it backwards, aiming at Iferit. He didn't like one damned inch of him.

((More notes to self, at the present moment, Roslia is not aware of Renivis's condition, but Helock is. Also, yay, for character development: Helock considers teamwork! Val must have scared some of his stubbornness away.))

Iferit watched as the group moved forward, staying back momentarily to play with something on the ground. He looked up to see them moving away and with a spring to his step, he moved towards the group, hopping about merrily. A stone zipped at him from behind Helock and before he could react it struck him on the shoulder. Seeing it as a playful gesture, Iferit hopped up into the air and fluttered his wings pushing past Helock fast enough to outpace his strides. He spat the mangled body picked off the ground earlier in front of Helcok’s path. It stood twitching as it discovered its new twisted form and reached out threating to grab at Helock. A snicker left his mouth as he knew Helock couldn’t touch his contagious minions. Then he nonchalantly kicked up a small cloud of dust into Helock’s face with a thrust of his wings as he passed.

Ignoring Helock’s friend remark he scurried over towards the tundra and mirror bouncing and flapping his wings once or twice then landing to a run until he was next to the tundra as he walked. With a leap, he started flying at his side facing him with a backwards stride. He licked his lips as he eyed the fae above on his head then looked at him in the eye.

Looking at the tundra, he asked, “I didn’t get your name.” Then with a smile he looked at the disgruntled mirror, “Nor yours.”

He fluttered in front of the two flying backwards. “And where might those shiny bobbles be taking us?”

Iferit was open with the fact that he had been watching the group for some time to have seen the tundra using his map and internments.

Sylvanas did not like the idea of Iferit following along with them, but trusted Daelor to handle things. She fluttered over to Renivis, and with complete disregard to ‘personal space’ landed on his head and trilled softly.

“He might not look it, but he’s a good healer. I recognized the mushroom he gave you, since I help him gather them. He gives them to Bragi too, he’s a guardian in our clan, and he has terrible fits with hearing voices and having dreadful headaches from it.”

Daelor kept himself largely focused on the way ahead, mentally readjusting his calculations and going back over the passages in the books he’d borrowed.

He sighed with annoyance as he felt the energy around them flicker as Iferit spawned another minion. He turned his head just far enough to focus his attention on it. The squirming, glowing thing was lifted up and tossed far to one side of their path before exploding.

“Am Daelor.”

When Iferit positioned himself in front of Daelor, the tundra regarded him with his pinkish crimson gaze. He paused to pull a particularly odd looking fungus from his satchel and its purple and green spots glowed softly as he popped it in his mouth. He walked on for a moment, chewing contentedly while he made Iferit wait for a response.

Daelor nodded his head toward the Wyrmwound where they were headed.

“Going there.”

That was all he was interested in telling the strange necromancer, he would say no more on the subject until he decided if he did or did not trust him.

They continued to walk on for quite some time, and as they drew closer to the center of the Plaguebringer’s domain, the air began to grow thicker and heavier. Clouds overhead grew darker, more foreboding.

The old tundra caught the little fae’s eye and she fluttered over to him. Daelor pulled a small amulet out of his satchel and held it out.

“Put it on.”

She did so and felt the oppressiveness of the area dissipate. She smiled as she returned to her perch on his head, leaving Renivis to his own musings.

It never failed to amaze her how well Daelor seemed to notice what affected those around him, and he usually had a remedy for it. Sylvanas was deeply grateful, this would be the first time she’d ever been so close to the Wyrmwound and she was quite worried about it.

**********

Cerys watched from her hiding place as far distant as she dared stay from the group. She didn’t want to risk letting them get too far ahead of her in this forsaken landscape. Her thoughts had degraded into a near constant mantra of curses along with Daelor’s name as she considered her chances against the ever growing group that surrounded him.

Maybe something will go wrong and half of them will get killed. She thought hopefully.

She winced as a sharp rock bit into her foot as she took another step and her string of curses grew even more venomous. She could somewhat understand them walking now if one of the mirrors was unable to fly but she still hadn’t figured out why Daelor had chosen to walk the entire way instead of just flying. They would have been there by now, and her feet wouldn’t be sore. She scowled darkly, pondering several means by which to kill the irritating tundra.

*******

Valthyra got the hatchlings all settled in and napping, and had checked on the eggs before moving back outside to perch on one of the ledges above the cavern’s entrance. She was looking forward to dozing in the sun as she watched the various clan members going about their business around her.

However, a blur of bone-white motion caught her eyes and she sat up.
Looking across the clan’s main area she spotted the bone fiend landing in front of Unforgiven, its wings flailing wildly as it relayed something to its master.

She frowned and worry settled in her chest as she considered one likely subject of the discussion. Finally the bone fiend darted away as Unforgiven turned and roared.

Valthyra frowned; she understood the command, Unforgiven’s notice to the clan that his attention was required outside the clan lands. In his sire’s absence, the First Born, Vorcha would handle basic clan needs. It was not an unusual occurrence, life within the clan continued uninterrupted. But for Valthyra, the timing was worrying her.

She watched the big imperial spring skyward, but he was heading south. That puzzled her even more. She flew over to Vorcha after Unforgiven was out of sight. The guardian greeted her.

“Mother.”

“Vorcha. Did he say where he was going?”

“No, just that he had to deal with something.”

“Ah, well, I guess it’s nothing serious then?”

“He didn’t seem happy about whatever it was, but no more than usual.“

She reached over to nuzzle her son, before nodding. “Alright then, I’ll just go back to the nesting grounds then.”

Her mind still pondered the events as she flew back to her perch. What is Unforgiven up to? Where has he gone?

Renivis walked blankly, pondering what the mushroom Daelor gave him was, it had a very distinct taste and it calmed down the fluff that normally broke into his head. Was it sweet? Nah, maybe spicy? No, bitter! No, um... He thought idly.

Pondering, he barely noticed Sylvanas landing onto his head.

"Oh- Bla- Wha?!"

Sylvanas noted that Daelor was a good healer, and that they have a clan mate who had a similar condition that he has. He blinked, "Well, small world. I should probably meet this Bragi." He promptly ignored the fae to witness Iferit harassing Helock and Daelor. Helock, he didn't really care for, but Daelor seemed like a good guy in his eyes. He growled irritably as Iferit blocked the way.

Upon Iferit's inquiry, he replied, "I'm reluctant to give you my name, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt." He sighed, "Ugh... I am Renivis, not exactly a pleasure to meet you." He glared at Iferit before focusing on the grotesque world ahead.

Clearly, the Wyrmwound was nearby. The world seemed to grow more deadly and corrupted with each passing step. The skies above, clouded and filled with more toxins than any other place. The Plaguebringer and her home was near. And with it, the ones who have the strength to last here.
Renivis steeled his nerves, his muscles grew tense, and he searched the area. In a land such as this, your only hope for survival was yourself and your trusted brethren.

...And sometimes, maybe not even then for the latter. Renivis took a deep breath of the rotten, stale air, and looked at the medley of veritable beasts around him, including himself.

"...Well, I guess you could call this little group.... sickening." Before giggling to himself for a bit.

Too many things happened at once to Helock. First the wry mirror was mocking him, approaching him with carefree abandon and completely ignoring his rude remarks. Then when Helock thought about smashing the mirror's face in with his claws, a writhing cadaver was tossed in front of him, threatening to attack. Just as soon as he had froze to prepare a counterattack, it was forcefully tossed aside, and exploded a few feet away from him. Confused, and certainly annoyed now, Helock watched Iferit flutter away from him to Daelor's side and caught a glimpse of discontent on the tundra's face.

He kept thinking to himself all the ways that Iferit could perish as he quickened his pace to match Roslia's. Continuing his mumbling, he didn't look at Roslia, but swayed his tail briskly.

Helock whispered to her so the rest of the group couldn't hear them speak, "Why are we still following? We can look for your items elsewhere without them." He didn't usually whine, but this time, he wanted nothing more than to leave.
__________________________________________________________________

Roslia had been listening to the conversation ahead. Iferit was the most lively of the three, while Daelor was putting up his usual act of simplicity - tossing the reanimated corpse behind him aside wordlessly, a brief but silent action stating his annoyance. She couldn't believe Iferit's casual facade; there was no one alive as reckless as he, yet so impervious to other's actions or judgement towards him.

When she heard Renivis mention something about the group being "sickening," Roslia inhaled, and the air seemed to clog her throat. The air had become so dank despite them being in the Boneyard, but she could sense the powerful influence of the Wyrmwound in front of them. They were nearing their destination, yet despite not being there she could feel her body protesting. Roslia took her hand to her chest, applying some pressure there before realizing the futility of her attempt to relieve the growing discomfort.

"I'm here for my own reasons." She replied to Helock's question, and paused for a moment before adding, "Can I get on your back?"

Helock snapped his head at her and gave her the most distorted grimace he's ever made, "What?"

She chuckled, and quickened her pace with new resolve, "Nothing. Just thought I'd ask." 

Roslia took notice of a strange nullifying magic that appeared in the group ahead and figured it was something Daelor produced from his endless satchel of goodies. It was transferred to the fae dragon who was now engulfed in the magic, and Sylvanas became nothing more than a spherical barrier of energy in her mind's eye. She swallowed, tempted to ask Daelor about it but refrained from doing so.

Iferit disregarded the introductions, and turned to look in the direction of Daelor.


“How curious, yes indeed.” Iferit landed in-between Daelor and Renivis and began to walk with them. “I can’t see why you all would be so quick to see your demise.” He spoke in a collected but almost sinister tone.

He continued, “A wondrous garden such as this aces to consume new, uncorrupted, flesh such as ours.” He looked himself over, giggled and looked at Renivis. “You are all quite strange indeed”

Iferit pondered a moment. “Tell me… Renivis, how is it that a mirror such as yourself can hold down such a grotesque mushroom!? Has this tundra influenced you to turn away from your nature?”

Iferit was confused, and growing hungry yet again at his though of food. Licking his lips he didn’t wait for an answer and walked off behind them towards Roslia and Helock. He took notice to Roslia quickening her pace next to Helock.

Matching Roslia’s pace, he spoke in a mocking tone, “I don’t think your friends understand the gravity of coming to this place. It would be a shame if anything should happen to them.” He snickered in delight after his warning then smiled, “No… I am sure that they are all very capable”

The ground beneath them began a steady, noticeable incline, and before long they saw the reason. Ahead of them loomed the leading edge of Rotrock Rim. The Rim formed the outermost edge of land between the Wyrmwound and the rest of the Scarred Wastelands. Daelor took a deep breath and glanced at his companions. He could feel the pulsing power of the Wyrmwound from here, and he had no doubt the rest of them could as well, and it would only get worse as they moved closer.

He turned and stared back the way they’d come and caught the slight glint of green against the putrid landscape. Sighing, he shook his head. Young ones. He muttered to himself. They never learn.

Daelor’s senses suddenly screamed at him a moment before he saw the great shadow darken the sky. He flattened himself down into a crouch and with a stern look encouraged the others to follow suit.

“Stay quiet.” He hissed.

The shadow passed closer, larger than any living dragon should be able to cast. Daelor scanned the sky, but could not focus on the source of the shadow. He racked his brain for any mention of such a thing, and finally remembered the scattered whispers he’d heard that told of the undead guardians that roamed near the Rim.

None of them would be safe if that’s what had cast that shadow, but he hoped it would pass by without noticing them. Seconds seemed to crawl by as he waited, and watched, but the shadow didn’t return. Finally he stood up again with a brief sigh of relief. It was only a small reprieve, he was sure of that. Daelor had little doubt that such a thing would cross their path again, or in fact could be waiting at their destination.

Despite his reservations about facing such a monstrosity, he was still eager to reach their destination. They were getting so close; he wasn’t about to stop and give up now. Quickening his pace, he pressed on. Partially buried by the fluff on his chest, the amulet around his neck began to glow but Daelor didn’t seem to notice.

Taking no heed to Iferits questions, he climbed the inclining ground, slowly up into the dark skies above. He felt the Wyrmwound alright. And it felt awfully grotesque. It was only a matter of time until they were at the very rim of it, where its true power shined. Up, and up the Rotrock Rim they went. Renivis shook his head, now was not the time to worry. Just get the thingy Daelor needed, and leave.

Of course, that wasn't the case. Daelor quickly crouched and beckoned the rest to follow suit. Renivis stared at Daelor before seeing a large and threatening shadow approach from the sky, which was more than an enough for him to suddenly crouch and hold his breath. He hadn't learnt much about what was around the Wyrmwound, but whatever it is, it would likely be dangerous and very likely to cause a very nasty case of death.

Painful seconds passed, and the threat passed. Renivis rose and stretched, "What was that? This place is just getting more worse as we go along! I hope you have a plan if we're caught by that thing over there." Not understanding why the tundra was so convinced to reach the Wyrmwound, he walked alongside Daelor. He couldn't help but notice a small shimmer in the tundras chest, but he ignored it.

...

Bali awakened, slightly stunned and disoriented, she groggily got up when she remembered where she was, and most importantly, why she was there. Eyes widening, she shot off into the air, and searched the area. She could have sworn they were walking in the direction of the Wyrmwound, and in her haste she flew to where the Wyrmwound was when she spotted a veritable pool of dead corpses. She store in fright for a moment before shaking her head and noticing a bunch of claw marks on the ground. Realizing she was right on their tail, she sped far from the marks until she was well away and hard to see. With the trail in sight, she followed clandestinely.

She followed until she noticed a pustule green guardian hiding as well, gulping momentarily, she approached and tapped the guardian enough for it to notice, "Um, hello? I... am looking for a slightly schizophrenic mirror with a slate and chocolate coloring.... Have you seen him?"

Iferit’s delight grew more and more the closer they got to the Wyrmwound. The terrain now littered with potential toys. Everywhere he looked was a new distraction. He gained his attention back on Roslia long enough to reply.

“We shall see, wont we.” He stated in a bored tone, “Although, It would be wise to worry about your own integrity, hum? I wouldn't want to see you die before our little arrangement is concluded.” He gave a smug smile, taking notice to her demeanor. His attention was broken as something magnificent caught his eyes.

“Perfect!” he shouted, making a mad dash to its location. He began to dig around the area of a large hunk of newly rotting flesh protruding from the ground. It looked like a shallow grave or maybe prey to a critter that liked to bury its meals. It didn't matter, it was his now, and this time it wouldn’t die so easily. He bit into its flesh just as the ground around him started to rumble. He thought it strange but continued gnawing at the flesh of the soon rising corpse.

A fire grew from each bite as the virus ripped through the corpse. A red trail of arcane fire slightly illuminated the ground around it as the veins of corruption pierced to the parts of the body still under the ground. It gasped, life shooting through its body. The looming darkness faded, like the sun coming out from the clouds. However, there were no clouds, only the vile waste surrounding them, and now a part of it was rising from the ground. It fluttered its damaged wings, tinged with the start of decay, pulling the rest of itself out of the ground.

A grin of satisfaction shined from Iferit’s face as the fae quivered in front of its new master. He looked around expecting satisfaction or praise but found only shock. Iferit looked back to see the huge figure off in the distance for a brief moment as it left everyone’s view.

OOCN:

Sylvanas heard the noise from behind them and turned to see what was going on. She saw the twisted mutilated corpse of a fae being raised by Iferit and screamed before fainting into the fluff on Daelor’s back. The tundra blinked and then turned to see what had caused her such a fright and scowled as he took in the sight.

His first thought was to obliterate the abomination; however, he was all too aware that the landscape was a necromancer’s paradise. He couldn’t ignore the fact that Iferit was just as likely to raise something else as not and he was not inclined to get into a battle of necromantic wills with the mirror unless he had to.

Instead, he simply muttered, “Keep it to yourself.”

As he turned back around the way he was headed, he noticed Roslia looking less than comfortable in the increasingly noxious environment. He thought for a moment, then pulled one of his instruments out of his satchel and began humming and muttering to himself while he checked its readings. At the same time he focused his mental attention on Roslia and an amulet identical to the one he’d given Sylvanas materialized quietly around her neck.

Should help. His mental voice gently intruded on her thoughts and then faded just as suddenly.

Turning the rest of his attention back to the instrument in front of him, he nodded. They were still on course and getting very close judging from the greatly elevated readings.

“Not far now. Let’s go.”

He glanced sideways at Renivis and nodded. “Be ready, not sure what we might face ahead," he lowered his voice, "or behind.”

************
Cerys blinked as she felt something tapping her. Her thoughts jarred off track, she growled as she looked around. Spotting the small white fae she sighed.

“What? Who are you?” Shaking her head as she considered the fae’s question, “Perhaps. The tundra I’m following is in the company of mirrors, one may be the one you’re looking for.”

Renivis stopped in his tracks at Sylvanas' scream and stared at the passed out fae before looking towards Iferit's creation. Surprise was visible on his face for a few moments before he quickly took a bored and frustrated expression.

He blinked at the reanimated corpse before sighing in tiredness, "We don't have time for this!"

He snorted and blew a small wisp of energy at the miserable cadaver before noticing the distinct lack of mental interference. A surprised look came upon his face when he realized that the mushroom Daelor gave him actually worked. The surprise faded and he looked at Daelor briefly with a small smile before noticing Roslia's deteriorating condition. He gave a glance at Daelor, who caused a necklace, similar to Sylvanas', to form around her neck. Frowning, He took note of Daelor's warning before nodding in agreement. There is a fair chance of something following them, and he wanted to take no chances.

He slowed his pace down and went to Roslia's side for a moment and scrutinized her before saying, "...You don't seem to be well equipped to be taking on the Wyrmwound. Need a hand?" He continued walking by Helock and Roslia, before randomly turning around.

He muttered to himself, "Could someone be...?"

He shook his head and continued.

...

Bali cowered in fear in the face of the large guardian, "I, um, I'm Bali..." She straightened herself out briefly before continuing, "The mirror I'm looking for caused some problems for the whole clan and I was asked to keep an eye on him..." Upon mention of Renivis with the tundra from earlier, her eyes lit up and she flew onto the guardians back.

She saw the group off in the distance and murmured to herself, "Oh Renivis, what are you doing...?" She glanced at the guardian for a moment, "...Oh! Sorry, I hope you don't mind... I never caught your name, by the way."

Hearing Iferit's words, Roslia gritted her teeth, embarrassed that she was being seen in such a state. However, she was glad that Iferit took his attention off of her just as quickly as he had noticed her condition. She sensed the crazed necromancer summon yet another undead minion, and Daelor's silent fury didn't go unnoticed.

The environment wouldn't let up, growing more hazardous as they neared the Wyrmwound, but as Roslia started becoming faint, a warmth spread from her collarbone. She wrapped her hand around the object that formed around her neck, and took in the relaxing sensation it was providing her. Her usual senses returned and the environment wasn't as overwhelming although her attention was diverted among the new stimuli around her. Roslia recognized the magic and turned her gaze to the fae who seemed to have disappeared under the tundra's fluff... at least, to most it would have seemed that way. To Roslia, Sylvanas was shining brilliantly due to the barrier around her - the same barrier now surrounding herself.

Finally able to focus, she pinpointed Daelor's position, and after hearing his mental message, made a mental note to herself, and chuckled softly, I think I owe him some mushrooms now...

She coughed, noticing that unfortunately, whatever she inhaled had not left her. Her spine tingled, but she decided now was not the right time to worry about such simple symptoms.

Renivis's words struck her, but she calmly responded, "No, but thank you. I'll be fine." Roslia patted her new pendent and smiled.

As the elevation of the area continued to climb, Roslia started to use her hands to scale the ground. She was glad that she was finally able to function somewhat normally again, but a thought lingered on her mind. In her body, she would never be fit enough to withstand the edge of the Rotrock Rims, let alone the Wyrmwound - if they were going that far. Her determination wouldn't let up however, and she figured she might as well see this to the end.

OOC:

The words “Keep it to yourself” fell on deaf ears. Iferit, enthralled with his newest companion’s existence, was examining it closely when wisps of energy zipped by and struck the fae pushing it back as it resisted the blow bracing itself just before impact. A hiss followed the smell of singed flesh as the fae and Iferit gave the same, angry expression to Renivis. The fae cried out in anger and pain, casting its gaze in a stare spell at Renivis then calmed down, still with an angered look about it. Iferit smirked at Renivis.

“I would be quick to consider your actions, lest I see you fit a meal.” He looked at Helock and laughed returning his gaze to Renivis. “I have not yet encountered a dragon corpse capable of withstanding my influence such as this one you see. I very much intend to keep it intact.”

Iferit turned from Renivis, satisfied with his words and looked off behind them. “Followed you say?”

Seeing an opportunity to show off, he snickered and licked his claw before drawing it across the ground. A glow emerged from it as the rot itself flickered to life and then faded as its life burned out quickly. A slow moving red pulse spread in a cone behind them several feet before fading off. Iferit turned to walk with the group, his new undead minion following close to him, walking on all fours. From the infested landscape rose an assortment of lesser critters where the crimson shimmer had touched. The myriad of minions began walking behind the group in the opposite direction.

“That should slow them down.” He said proudly.

Sylvanas recovered from her faint and scrambled up to perch on Daelor’s head, holding tight to one horn. She tried hard to ignore the disturbing undead thing following along with the strange mirror, and she didn’t trust either one. Instead she tried to focus on where they were going, but the sheer magnitude of the Rotrock Rim was almost overwhelming.

“Are you sure you know where we’re going Daelor?”

“Yes.”  The tundra looked upward, though he couldn’t really see the fae on his head.

The slope of the landscape became noticeably sharper, and Daelor nearly stumbled as the rotting ground beneath his feet shifted as he took another step forward. The group’s progress began to slow considerably as the ground grew more treacherous.

Minutes crawled by as Daelor trudged onward, becoming increasingly focused on the path ahead. The medallion around his neck began glowing increasingly brighter. He knew they had to be getting very close to their destination.

Finally the ground began to level out slightly and the tundra stopped to give the group a chance to rest briefly before pushing on.  Sylvanas slid down and buried herself in the thick fluff between his shoulder blades as another giant shadow passed over them.

A bone-chilling roar shattered the relative silence of the Rim as the owner of the shadow wheeled around having spotted the group. The sky grew dark as the monstrous beast landed between them and their eventual destination.

Its body seemed formed from the very fabric of the Rotrock Rim. Disease ridden flesh wrapped itself around weathered bones with a loose covering of patched hide. Soul-less empty eye sockets turned upon them as the beast opened its maw filled with venomous looking teeth.

Daelor’s amulet flashed as the tundra growled and took a step forward. He focused his thoughts on one single word as he cast the summoning spell.

Krathak!

The ground between Daelor and the giant beast erupted as a massive shattered serpent burst forth. Its body glowed with an unnatural green hue and its eyes glowed even brighter as it cast one look at its master before baring its fangs at the foe in front of it.

Daelor’s familiar lunged at the giant beast, forcing it to turn its side towards the group. The tundra took advantage of that and launched a massive arcane bolt at the monster.

Renivis was hindered by the undead's spell for a brief moment before forcing it out of his head. Renivis looked at Iferit's minions as they squirmed away behind them, down the Rotrock Rim and into the world below. He let out a sigh, before continuing up the Rim itself. The land grew steeper, and his footing was nearly lost on several occasions. He grunted as the land below refused to work with him, and was constantly distracted by the increasingly strong energy from Daelor's amulet. He was somewhat perplexed by Daelor's one track mind.

As the ground began to even out, he sighed in relief; right when a roar shattered his hopes. A large, sickening beast landed before them, and Renivis immediately began focusing energy when a giant serpent emerged from the ground. Noticing the beast's gestures, he realizes that it was likely Daelor's doing. A giant, cracked serpent versus a living(?) breathing monster, eh? Renivis had to admit, it was amazing.

Hiding how impressed he really was, he summed up a great ball of kinetic energy before forcing it into an unstable, miniature grenade. He heaved it at the giant beast before jumping back, bracing himself as the grenade detonated, sending everything near it back wildly, causing deadly debris and sharp bones to launch in every direction.

"Incoming!"

...

Bali felt something as she waited for an answer from the green guardian, "...By the way, do you sense that?" She looked towards the Rotrock Rim when she saw a horde of glowing red creatures of various types. Naturally, she let out a soft cry and fired a small, pathetic bolt of energy at a small critter. It impacted, but did veritably nothing to her target. She blinked at her failure before choosing to instead fly behind the guardian.

Roslia's pace had slowed, but not from the discomfort of scaling the increased elevation. Now that she was feeling better, she had been familiarizing herself with the environment. She ran her hands on the mutated plant life, and tapped on the ground to "see" what things looked like. Highly fascinated, she thought happily to herself, I must come here more often... She gripped the pendant around her neck, and briefly wondered how much Daelor would want for the mysterious necklace.

Iferit's minions didn't bother her, but she did find them a bit alluring. Before she could comment on Iferit's mini-army however, a familiar presence neared them. Roslia tensed, sensing the massive disturbance in the wastelands as it bent the air around it. She gritted her teeth, and slipped away from the group when an ear shattering roar confirmed the giant dragon's approach. 

Roslia wasn't startled by the roar in the least bit, but instead was thankful of the noise. The roar echoed around them, allowing Roslia to become very knowledgeable with the surrounding area. She noted the decline that they came from, and the area around them that was more level. Realizing that the large creature had already spotted the rest of the group, she merely hid in the "forest" of mutated wildlife. Tendrils, branches, stems, bones, and anything larger than her became a hiding spot and she breathed in deeply. When she released her breath, she did so very slowly, her heartbeat decreased, and she calmed herself, making sure that her body temperature stayed as low as possible. When she was done, Roslia was gone - disappeared from the senses of any one unless they were too close to her.

_______________________________________

Helock had been eyeing Iferit constantly. The undead army he sent out behind him tempted him to go back and slaughter anything that was following the group, but he thought against it knowing that his minions were going in that direction.

"Are limping abominations all you are capable of?" He growled at Iferit.

Helock's gloating was cut short when he noticed Roslia tensing up. The look on her face told him that something was wrong and he immediately picked up his head to look. A large undead dragon approached them as it let out a mighty roar and he felt it vibrate through his whole body. Whatever was coming was massive, but that wasn't a bad thing. He relished at the rare occasion - food was rarely delivered to him.

He glanced at Roslia, but was startled to see her missing, Did she run away?! He scanned the area around them with his pairs of eyes but couldn't find a single trace of her. Helock had little time to wonder however when the blasts of the mages' attacks turned his attention back to the large guardian. It was rather bony, but the chunks of flesh that dangled from its massive form caused Helock to lick his lips. 

As Renivis's attack detonated, he charged out, ignoring the shards of debris that was flying everywhere. Noticing that the foe's attention was mostly turned to the newly summoned shattered serpent, he flanked the guardian, coming up directly behind it. When he got close enough, he picked up speed then leaped into the air, diving straight for the beast's back.