The Harvest Moon Consortium

Posted 04/02/07 03:32 (GMT) -- Malkryad

Seryne Vail floated in lava and hoped the memories would burn away with the sweat and grime. “You were beautiful, Seryne” Veronica had said. “Frightening, but beautiful.” Seryne hadn’t felt beautiful. She had felt angry. She had felt so full of hate and rage that she wanted to destroy everything and everyone around her. They had told her that she hadn’t been herself – it was the spell, or potion, or whatever it was. They had told her that the rage was just a side effect of the transformation. They had told her not to worry about it.

They were wrong. She could still feel it deep within her. The rage that was her gift… and curse. Ever since she had begun tapping into the strength that was her birthright, she had felt it. She had focused it with iron discipline. She had let it out in measured doses as she fought her enemies. She had kept it under control. Until today. Today, she had wanted to rip her friends apart almost as much as her foes.

This was all Alastair’s fault.

No, that wasn’t really true. Not entirely, anyway. Yes, he had given her a potion that killed her… painfully. But she had been stupid enough to drink it. And then, under extreme duress, he had apparently dosed her with the potion that transformed her into a full-blooded red dragon. All so she could fight and kill Yoril.

Fight and kill another red dragon. It had seemed to bother Veronica much more than it had Seryne. She would have to ask Veronica about that sometime. Seryne had long dispensed with any real regrets about fighting dragons. She sort of considered them kin, but fighting them didn’t seem to be a problem anymore. No more than fighting other humans, anyway.

It had started when Yoril had suddenly shown up in the farmlands outside Lapis… chasing a halfling. Then he had attacked Arrilan. Or Arrilan had attacked him… Seryne wasn’t really sure on that point. Randyl and Seryne had lept to Arrilan’s defense, as had Theyan, Darias, Veronica, and a few others who had happened to be around at the time. They killed the dragon, but the cursed thing just got right back up again. Something about eating the skull of a lich had made him near impossible to kill – or so Thrisalaas had later explained.

Yoril called in a small army of red dragons. An intense battle followed. When the dust cleared, Seryne and Arrilan were still standing. And Alastair had arrived at some point during the fight. None of the dragons were standing, though. Yoril had eaten the halfling and flown off.

Alastair had admonished the group for fighting with Yoril. And Thris arrived. Seryne knew that he, above anyone else, had real reason to see that dragon killed. Arrilan forced Alastair to admit that he had a potion that could turn Seryne from half-dragon to full dragon. And only a full-blooded dragon could kill Yoril. Simple enough plan.

So they had journeyed north, through the orc lands, to where Yoril had set up camp. And Alastair gave Seryne a potion. And Seryne, against her better judgment, but seeing no other choice, drank it. The pain had been unbearable. Her wings and scales had enlarged, but the potion didn’t work correctly. She had bled from under her scales, her nose, and her mouth. And then she died.

From what she heard, Randyl went crazy. He and Arrilan killed Alastair, then raised him again and forced him to give Seryne the real potion. That had been yet another incredibly painful experience. Seryne didn’t know that kind of pain existed until then. But she had transformed into a true red dragon.

Ironically, Seryne was much less effective as a full red dragon. She was stronger. She was bigger. But her claws were terribly clumsy when compared to Amilielia’s incredibly fine greatsword. With the help of the others, she had managed to bring down Yoril anyway.

That was when the real trouble started. After ripping Yoril’s head off, Seryne felt an undeniable urge to continue killing. She had almost attacked Alastair, source of so much pain, but he warned her that if she did, she would never go back to normal. Some part of her that was still rational had seen the truth in that. So she tore off to find some orcs to slay. That had felt good, but it had done nothing for her rage.

Arrilan had followed her. When there were no more orcs to slay, Seryne had wanted to rend him limb from limb. That was the moment she had known she was in real trouble. And so she told Arrilan - her comrade in arms, her friend - to kill her before she killed him. He complied. Seryne had finally known peace again.

Until she had woken up in front of some strange sort of wish machine. They had used it to return her to normal. Some part of her felt the pain of that transformation as well, but she had not been fully conscious, thankfully. Arrilan and Randyl had apparently used the machine to wish for wings. So, now Randyl had blue dragon wings. Seryne needed to teach them both how to fly.

Seryne sighed. So much to do.

“You’re sulking again.” Randyl lookedd down at her from the ledge above.

“And you are interrupting my bath again.” She didn’t bother to try to sound annoyed this time. She was oddly thankful for the interruption to her thoughts.

Randyl looked truly concerned for her for just a moment, but he smirked at her reply. “Jealous of my new wings? They’re blue… like the dragon on our family crest.” As if Seryne didn’t know.

Seryne rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m VERY jealous.” She tried to sound as sarcastic as possible, but the fact remained… she WAS jealous.

Randyl smiled knowingly down at her. “Let’s go. We have a lot to do… Flying lessons, for one. And we still haven’t found a reliable way to resist mind-spells, besides Mind Blank…”

“Which can be dispelled too easily to be reliable” Seryne finished the thought for him. Seryne remembered that moment in the caves above when the duergar mages had paralyzed her and she stood there helplessly as they killed her. She shuddered beneath the lava. “And we need an effective strategy for dealing with that cursed Bigby’s spell. I hate being held down by that thing.”

“I have an idea about that, but I’ll tell you later.” Randyl smiled proudly.

“Fine… go away so I can get out of my bath and get dressed. We have a lot to do.”

Posted 04/03/07 15:37 (GMT) -- Child of Stark

// I'm posting this here because it is a direct continuation of Malkyad's previous post and wouldn't make sense on its own.

Randyl Vail moved himself to a distance that didn’t feel like he was impinging on Seryne’s privacy. He knew that when he heard the jingling of her armor it was safe to approach again. As he watched her buckle the last straps of her armor he couldn’t help but grin. He knew the relief probably showed in his face and for once he didn’t care. He had his sister back. She wasn’t dead and she wasn’t a dragon. She was herself, or so Randyl hoped. In that moment Seryne caught him staring at her.

“What’s that look for?” Seryne asked with that hint of annoyance in her voice that she so loved.

“Oh nothing Sis.” Randyl couldn’t help but grin. “So where are we going?”

“I know a spot.” And with that Seryne strode off towards who-knows-where.

With a shrug Randyl followed and went back to his thoughts. Randyl was worried that he and Seryne hadn’t really talked about what happened that day. Randyl could sense there was something different about his twin. Something was bothering her. He had a feeling that it was similar to what was bothering him as well. That day was a dark day for both of them.

When he watched his sister writhe in pain and die an excruciating death at the hands of that bastard, Alastair, he felt the darkness within him surface. Their mother had warned them both that it would live within them. She also warned Randyl in particular that the magic within his blood would make him more prone to it. Just as their father gave them the blood of the dragon, their mother gave them something darker, the blood of the vampire. Until a few days ago Randyl would have scoffed at that thought. Surely he didn’t have enough of that blood for it to affect him. Until a few days ago he would have thought himself incapable of casting that dark spell.

It was a spell that according to their mother was often used by their grandfather. Their mother said that the spell was like a door. She said that if one cast it too often it could lead them to even darker magics. It was a path not meant for people like us.

As Alastair stood over the body of his sister with that sick smile on his face, Randyl felt the darkness within him rise as it fed on his rage. Without thinking he unleashed the dark spell at Alastair. He didn’t care that his friends were standing too close and got blasted as well. Anyone who dared to stand against he and his sister would DIE. It was that simple. So he cast it again, and again, and again.

Fortunately he quickly drained himself and was forced to stop but his anger was not gone. Just at that moment Alastair made a crucial mistake. He blasted Randyl in return. With a hysterical laugh of madness Randyl took advantage of Alastair dropping his guard. With a few words Randyl launched the Bigby’s spell that Seryne hates so much, straight at Alastair. Alastair was trapped. In the blink of an eye Arrilan riddled the foolish mage with arrows at point blank range and he fell. The others standing around watching barely had time to flinch before it was over.

Randyl laughed darkly. Like all creatures of evil Alastair shared their weakness, overconfidence. What a fool. Randyl honestly wondered how Alastair had lived so long. It was then that Randyl realized that he had never felt so much pleasure in killing someone.

That thought sickened Randyl. His mother had been right. There was darkness and rage within him. He had to be more careful in the future.

“Now who’s sulking?” Seryne’s voice broke him from his thoughts and brought him back to the present. He took a moment to notice they were now walking across grassy hills.

“I wasn’t sulking. I was just…well…thinking.” Randyl tried to grin hoping that Seryne would let it drop. She did.

“So tell me about this solution to the Bigby’s problem you have.” Seryne looked genuinely curious for once.

“What fun would that be Sis?” Randyl couldn’t help but grin mischievously. “Plus I don’t know if it will even work.”

Randyl’s idea was simple but probably not the most effective solution. He knew that spells could be written on scrolls and those that knew enough of magic could use the scroll to cast the spell. All Randyl had to do was learn how to make the scrolls. With a shudder he realized he would be joining his sister in the library in Lapis for night after night of research. Well it didn’t matter. If he could learn what he hoped he could then it would help them tremendously, no matter what.

Suddenly Randyl realized they had reached a ledge. He almost walked right off the edge since he was thinking and didn’t notice that Seryne had stopped. He looked down to see grass covered ground a good 30 feet below where they stood.

“What are we supposed to do here?” Randyl looked curiously back his sister waiting for her to respond.

With a huge grin Seryne uttered a single word. “Fly!” With the tiniest of pushes between Randyl’s new wings Seryne sent Randyl sprawling over the edge.

With a tiny shout of surprise Randyl tried to open his wings and flap them as fast as he could. He landed face first in the grass below with a thud. “OUCH! Seryne!” he yelled.

All he heard was faint laughter drifting down from above.