Oblivion from the Heavens

<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table class=ooc><tr><td>Current Day: 15
Current Quarter: Tessera
Current Year: 81378
Location: Swarj Coastal line, near Pwa Desert city Aibula.
Participants: Elder Brother Palasaj Novox, open. Please consider quality.</td></tr></table>


Distant, muffled, and almost as a faint whisper, the crashing waves amongst the rocky northern coast of Swarj brushed through the unconscious Pendragon's ears. His body was melted into the sand, leaving a wide and worn out depression in the ground as the waves slowly covered his body. There was no indication as to how long the creature had been about the sea before being swept ashore, but carrion birds had already begun their foreshadowing circle. Only a blackened, curled up Pendragon with the remains of armor scattered across the beach. Stabbed into the ground as if flung from the sea, a glimmering blade of a black, crystal-like material stood anchored into the sand. It was not too long before moon, and the cool breeze of the beach would be no match for the unforgiving sun. Tall, broad and silvered stones set across the beach with their shadows almost disappearing, only deepening the morbid solitude of the beach, save for the few bubbling crustaceans beneath the sands. As the storm that boiled in Hrishikesh lost wind from hours of raging against the coast, only lonesome white streaks at the head of gentle ebbing waves gave life to an otherwise quiescent shore.

The ebb and flow of the tide briefly brushed across the broadside of the fallen Pendragon. Tattered and soaked bandages began to tear away about his blackened wings, only giving a bare glimpse of a dimming red light from inside. Soaked black fur flickered back and forth as the waves nudged his body, even the azure star between his eyes a bit dingy from the salty water. After being teased by the sun and roused by the waves, the bandage bound wings wearily jerked. His right eye, closed as if in stale death opened just enough to see ground beneath him. Almost instantly, the nightmarish night before of being thrown to the sea and struggling amongst waves tall enough to shadow the sky flashed before him. The Pendragon shook violently onto his belly, coughing out old water and gasping consciously for the first time in hours. Sunlight and the bleached sand burned his eyes to almost closed, only allowing him to see the beach at a blurry squint. His back rose and fell while staring from left to right, seeing his equipment scattered across the beach. Where was he, exactly? The past few hours were far too confusing as it was. Was this another confusing bastardization of reality? Was he still aboard that hellish ship. The salty and fresh beach in his nose was too real to be a fabrication, but being lost itself was enough to put him off ease.

He struggled onto his paws, aching across his body and sluggish from being knocked out for so long. Broad paws spread the sand away, taking balance as best he could. Such a strange place, only beach with large stones for as far as he could see. Hunger, pain, annoyance, and waterlogged. He was alive and awake alright.

<span style='color:blue'>Wherever this place is...I should get something into my stomach before I weaken too much. Those birds seem to be coming from the south...suppose I should go as far as I can before the sun sets.</span>

His tail flame was quite strong, even for the hell that he had been through a few hours ago. It was just a matter of getting across the beach and to whatever lay beyond without being struck down by either hunger or an arrow. Although he could cross with his normal state, the equipment that he treasured so couldnÂ’t be carried by just four paws. At least it would give him more practice on the transformation he wished to master, mostly on the spell casting side. Closing his eyes, the Pendragon opened his maw just enough to allow a dull, cold haze flow from his mouth. Dark and deep frost fell across the ground, sinking and mixing with the hot air as his mental spell began to take shape. The dark forepaws slowly split apart like a soft putty, stretching into four dark fingers covered in sparse black fur, while the hind bulked out into broad and definite dark feet. His belly began to stretch at the top, bulging to the sides slowly but surely as toned and defined muscle formations different from a fox and more of a man took shape.

Clutching into a fist, the right hand pressed into the sand while the arms swelled into dark skin, then sprouted heavier barriers of fur around the writs, shoulders, and throughout the forming neckline. The frost fell more rapidly from his mouth, then spun out of control as it enveloped the Pendragon’s developing body. As suddenly as it appeared, the frost steamed away across the sand, leaving behind an almost fully-formed man. More of the legend of the werewolf, a man-fox with pitch-back skin. Though he was no hulk, the mass and tone of muscles from traveling and sword wielding was quite different from the build of a “normal" Pendragon. His perky fox ears twitched slightly, just enough to get a feel for the environment. Every echoing caw of the birds who thought they had a full course Waterlogged Pendragon and Seaweed dinner streaked across the beach, and the now full sound of rushing ocean against the broad beach filled his ears. Being alive certainly was not overrated.

<span style='color:blue'>“This is far too troublesome..."</span>

The Pendragon spoke in a voice male, an angry by default and low mumble. Both eyes opened with a solid, silver stare towards the horizon. He was tired as the slender, sinister eyes would note, and both blackened wings tailed by tattered and rugged bandages heaved while the muscle joints became used to his more bipedal form once again. Slick and dripping black hair covered the left eye and ran down his back, the bottom of five feet dirtied with a bit of sand and seaweed. What a mess the scholar had become. He stood up and shook his hair out slightly while his tail flickered independently behind, lashing at the sand and grabbing his Parasol Gujutyl at the shaft. Each step he took seemed to be troublesome, though more from being cramped than not knowing how to walk. He stopped just in front of the darkened Blade erect in the sand, staring at it for a few seconds. How had it come to that position? Did the tidal wave throw him and his blade into the beach, or was there more to his arrival from the sea? Not one to put too much though before other priorities, he grasped the ice-blue hilt and jerked the blade from the ground. The beach appeared a hazy shadow from behind the jeweled bastard sword, and the feeling of having his companion in his hand once again was more than enough for the moment. Satisfied with his accomplishment, the Pendragon “Foxman" looked down towards his soaked robe in the sand.

<span style='color:blue'>“Suppose clothes are optional. Then again, I don’t want a cold."</span>

 

Palasaj's fingers let go of the Dark Fang's handle, leaving behind prints of warm finger touch on the black cold shaft. Though he wasn't either a habitual loner or an overly friendly pup, he took the gesture just as a common courtesy. Whether or not he would catch a cold, being in company called for the appropriate actions. Palasaj took the other Pendragon's hand into a calm and cursory shake, pulling the robe over his shoulders and bound wings with his free hand. The sand soiled robe was wrinkled over his body, but most of his body except for one arm was covered in the dark robes. The garb wasn't too fancy, simply a thick black cloth with a hood left uncovered, light silver drawstrings about the waist, and Palasaj's sentinel dark fox face left out.

<span style='color:blue'>"I'll be fine, I think. Just as long as the hot air does its job in drying me. From what I can guess, the storm brought me."</span>

He was quite dirty, or at least a beach equivalent. Sand over the azure star between his eyes, a bit of a sand goatee under his foxish maw, and both perky ears like beach hills. Every few seconds, a few grains of sand would fall off. The Pendragon would care otherwise, but he was still a bit out of the loop as far as reality was concerned.

<span style='color:blue'>"Swarj, you say...?"</span>

Palasaj thought for a few seconds as he though about what the other Pendragon had said in welcoming. That wasn't right, not right at all. His blackened eyes lowered slightly, second-guessing the thoughts in his mind. If this was Swarj, then how in the hell did he travel so far in such a small amount of time? The Academy was on a completely different landmass, and heÂ’d have to cross through the ocean. Now that he thought about it, the powerful woman that dealt a would-be deathblow stated something about Hreshikesh.

The Academy to Swarj through HreshikeshÂ…not only did I get lost, but I made turns while getting lost. Storm winds at such speeds would have made quick of my bodyÂ…what in the hell?!

<span style='color:blue'>"Swarj, as in no where near the Academy?"</span>

Humming with an almost eerie resonance, PalasajÂ’s parasol lifted itself from the ground. It rotated slowly, opened just enough to release sand from the inside. He felt its movement just briefly, but faint in life. Each of the elemental seals glowed with only the slightest of light, given that it was daytime, the light was all too faint. It moved only enough to set itself about PalasajÂ’s back. The parasol, Gujutyl must have seen him through some of the disaster. If only he could recall what the disaster was.

 

((OOC: I apologize for the low quality, but work is the only way I could post. I'll try to move things along. Don't want to keep things far too boring.))

<span style='color:blue'>"Umoreul Paush, is it? I am Palasaj Novox of the Enlightened Circle. Pleased to meet your acquaintance."</span>

Cleanching one darkened fist into the palm of his other hand, the young, dark pendragon lowered his head slightly in greeting to the one who had found him. His sandy and soaked hair fell over his shoulders in thick strands, while his eyes closed. After a few seconds, Palasaj rose against while letting his arms down to his sides. He would have to be on his best behavior, less he be left behind without any thoughts of where to go next. A blade and a destructive magical mind did not help much in the areas of tracking.

<span style='color:blue'>"I beg of you, if it wouldn't be any trouble, would you show me the way to the academy? I will try to reward you as much as I can when we arrive, but I know nothing about Swarj besides the front steps of the academy."</span>

Palasaj lowered himself again, this time sharply and with his mane-like hair whipping. To say the least, he was willing to be in someone's company.