forum The War for Ivrul - Chapter 1: A Voice in the Dark

Started August 28, 2019 by @Dragoncita group

tune

Our story begins within the last of the lands that do not belong to the Empire. The last Hold, the Hold of the Twin Ironspires, natural rock formations that tower over the rest of the land. Between these, the Hold of Ironspire still stands strong. It is here, the last of the people of Ivrul have gathered, protected by the great walls and of course, the Rangers themselves.

As bloody war and raids take their course on the outside world, the beasts of pact partners become uneasy. They feel something, hear the soft voice, a plea for help. Yet they do not know what this means, but they fell they must answer this call. Yet the creatures have yet to tell their partners about this. But, the pact partners also feel this strange tug upon their soul, being drawn to something.

What or who this someone or something is, only time will tell.

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~Dragoncita

Guinevere and Gawain had already been with the Rangers for about three months when everything started to go to shit. The pair spent most of their time taking care of small supply runs and fending off raids from Empire battalions, but they could sense a change in the winds of fate. Raids became less frequent but far larger. Small armies soon came knocking, and it took Gawain moving vast quantities of land to block them off or destroy them. Gawain tried digging a massive trench around the spires, but Empirical engineers quickly built bridges and ladders to cross the gap. A few more pact pairs eventually came to reinforce their position, and the largest raid was soon routed thanks to copious amounts of magic and rocks.

The pair decided to relax after the long fight, Guinevere washing up and Gawain taking a well-deserved nap. Guinevere came out of the shower, dressed in some loose-fitting clothes and set to polishing her sword, the Seiglinde Rose. She had maintained this blade since her early days in the Hunters Guild, but as she whetted the steel blade, she realized that this entire situation with the Empire was very similar to the last empire she had to fight. Looking to her sleeping husband, she watched his back rise and fall with each breath. The huntress thought back to when she first bore her son into the world, picking out details of his baby face that matched up with her and Gawain's. She then moved forward about fifty years in the theatre of her mind to when her family set out to stop a war with the Empire of Prominence and how that nearly embroiled the entire continent in a war between humans, dragons, and wyverns. After that fight was over, they decided to move away from Prominence into another Empire. Unfortunately, they weren't very good at naming, most people refer it to "The Empire." Doesn't really help when there's another empire off to the east that also bans the old ways of magic and such.

"It's like we never really left," Guienvere said. Setting the whetstone down, she decided to retire her blade for the night. Grabbing the oilcloths off of the dresser, she wrapped the scaled Greatsword, careful to remove the stained cloth wrappings around the blade and replace them with oilcloths that were made specially to keep the Dreadqueen Rathian scales supple and hard. Setting it on the wooden pegs hammered into the wall, Guinevere left her sword and contemplated getting food. Then again, the sun was starting to set and she was just as exhausted as Gawain. She decided to go to bed, climbing on top of Gawain's body and splaying out across his back. To her, there wasn't a king-sized bed out there more comfortable.

A breeze blew past, a lone figure standing atop a lone peak. The wind shifted, blonde hair moving slightly. Armor clicked as the male shifted his weight. Before him, was the land of Okulomdinok…the land of death, or that is what it was dubbed by the ones who had never ventured forth into those lands. He himself had only been in those lands once, and that had been in his younger years. It was seemingly the only place that remained untouched by the Empire, that and the Hold of Ironspire. Beyond, he did not know if it was free lands, or also area controlled by the Empire.
His head shifted, red eyes turning to gaze down below. Beneath was a great drop, one that would most surely end a person's life. Yet, without even a second thought, his foot left the ledge, walking right off, plummeting downwards. He fell with increasing speed, the air whipping his hair back. However, there was no fear whatsoever, for he knew death did not wait for him below. A sound of thundering wings followed by a giant shadow that blacked out the sun from view suddenly appeared. The massive form swept past the falling man, soon coming to pull up right underneath him. The form, a great red dragon, horns a bronze ending in black tips, as well as a bronze underbelly. Great wings beat against the air, staying in the sky.
As for the man, he had twisted his body, feet coming to land upon the beast's back. He easily climbed into a place comfortably between two spines that were apart of a row that ran down the dragon's back. Legs rested on either side of the powerful neck, feeling the muscles ripple as the wings continued to pump, keeping the beast aloft. The dragon tipped its head back, lifting high into the air.
~B'rant~ a strong voice suddenly echoed in the man's mind ~The voice, she calls…all pact beasts must obey~.
The man turned his head, eyes landing upon the great horned head. He raised an eyebrow, having heard his dragon say the same words. Something was distracting the beast, and B'rant could tell. His pact partner's thoughts and feelings, they all connected back to his own. Such was part of joining souls with a powerful beast of Okulomdinok. The dragon's mind had become rather muddled. Usually B'rant could sense Fanth's feelings, and normally the dragon's thoughts were clear, but lately, it was the complete opposite. He was having a hell of a time trying to concentrate with his partner, the dragon's constant thoughts turning over and over, but they always came back to a certain voice…
~Fanth, you need to try and focus. It is hard to try and keep the morale of the soldiers and other pact partners alive if you and I are seen faltering~.
The dragon seemingly shook his head, but glanced back out of the corner of his eye towards his rider ~Of course…apologies friend. These are trying times, but we must remain strong~.
A soft smile crossed the man's features. A hand reached forward, lightly rubbing the side of the powerful neck ~We should head back, see what the scouts have to report, and perhaps maybe visit with a few others about this 'voice' and 'she' you keeping talking about. If you keeping saying all beasts must 'obey this call', then you can't be the only one hearing this plea~.
A low rumble came from the large dragon, yellow eyes shifting back forward. The dragon tipped his wing, heading back to the towering spires in the distance.