MIA, 45, 81378 Looking down upon what he considered his mountain, Xemturu Nymsikjy once again considered and weighed his choices. A beautiful sunset was slowly lowering behind him, seeming to be enveloped by the horizon. The view of such a wonder was nothing for him, he held nothing dear in his life and had abandoned all hope of true happiness. He turned abruptly, and began walking back to his cave, his flaming wings leaving a trailing wisp of flame behind him. The armor he adourned made every step sound like a troop of soldiers marching, and his unrelenting stare wore through the stone door over what he considered his haven. Moving the stone seemed like an easy feat for all, but being enchanted to only open under his command was his only security against creatures wandering to close to his home. Not that the creature would get far from him. Upon entering, he spoke a few quick commands, and the door closed with a resounding thud. Darkness took the area, but Xemturu flicked his wings open and bright light chased the shadows away in an instant. As Xemturu walked into the main chamber, he began to remove his armor, having no need to wear it in his own territory. It would take many minutes to unstrap all of the seperate pieces, and though it looked as if the suit was a puzzle, when properly donned, no crease or crack could be seen. As he finished laying his armor on a table, Xemturu looked to his bed and considered whether or not to retire for the night. Although he had been up since the day before, something nagged at him to continue on his regular chores. He sighed and journeyed into a smaller chamber to his left. All that was in the room was a floor made of different hides from various animals, a rack on the farthest wall, a small cupboard and a large pole with varying sized poles jutting out at random heights. Xemturu approached the rack on the wall and placed his two murasame swords into the perfectly carved design. The swords were an amazing pair, each complimenting the other. One was a shining silver, the other looked like white lightning in colour. Their smooth edges were unharmed even through all the battle they had seen. Two adamentium rods made up the hilts, with gaurds over the lower half. Opening the cupboard beside his weapons rack exposed a sweet and tangy sense and smell that calmed and soothed the soul. Of course they did nothing for Xemturu. He pulled out a small pouch and poured the contents into a bowl carved from bone. In a small vial was a white liquid, which seemed to be the fat of an animal, and Xemturu also added that into the bowl. He produced a pestle and began grinding the two ingredients. He reached far into the cupboard and took a mirror, what seemed to be a metal stand, and a candle. As he looked into the mirror, he saw a reflection that few people had ever seen. His eyes were pitch black, save for the red slit in the middle, those eyes which sent fear through the hearts of any who had seen them. The red fur that covered his body looked matted and was obviously distressed from the last few days of having his armor on. On his face were great tribal tattoos, twisting this and that way, doing an intricate dance in a symmetrical pattern. His fangs glistened in the reflection, and hung far down past his thin lips. He began angling the mirror to get a better look at what he had become in his many years away from civilization, past his large orange mane, and down to his well toned stomach. Reality seemed to hit him in an instant, and he quickly placed the mirror back on the table. What was it he had felt in that moment? Was it pity, a self-realization of all he had lost? A low guttural growl exited his lips, and he clenched his fists tight. Pain seared into his palms, and he glared down to see his long nails fully extended. Even the thought of himself having a weakness in life outraged him to a breaking point, sometimes sending fury through his bones and causing loose fits of a berserk rage. Specks of blood splattered against the shiny surface of the mirror as he set the metal rack and the candle in the middle of it. He placed the bowl into the rack and lit a small piece of kindling off of his wings. The candle lit in an amazing spectrum of light, the flame going through many colors before finally stopping at a brilliant white. The mirror, which was enchanted, absorbed every ounce of the light from the candle, leaving absolute darkness all about the room, save the light from Xemturu’s wings. Upon command, Xemturu wings dimmed to a charcoal black hue, and the mirror released it’s magic, illuminating the room fully. As the bowl warmed, the liquid bubbled a produced a sickly-sweet smell that enriched the room in beautiful green smoke. Xemturu finished his ritual by closing up the cupboard and sitting meditation style in the center of the room. He inhaled softly, filling his lungs with the vapors and fully taking in their soothing herbal properties. In a sharp motion, he exhaled, and fell into a trance. “~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"
<font color=navy> About a mile west from Xemturu's cave, and quite some yards down, a pale shadow sat in the middle of a slope. It was a female pendragon, a mix of gray and white hues. Usually. Right at the moment she was lit by the orange light of the descending sun, blending with the ground all around her. Ronnica, for that was her name, flinched a little and tore her eyes away from the beautiful sight, well aware of the danger it posed to her eyes. After all, pendragons tried to protect their orbs from the Sun's rays, not stare into the fiery hell like maniacs. Ronnie smiled a little and carefuly rose, her hind feet immediately slipping on the treacherous surface. The gray pendragon plopped down on her stomach, a grunt of unexpected pain escaping her throat. She grumbled half-heartedly under her breath and pulled herself back to her feet, paying extra attention to every place she put her foot. The slope she was attempting to scale was indeed treacherous. Its dried and rocky surface slid down in a small avalanche every time she trusted even the tiniest portion of her weight onto it. Dust flickered and danced in front of her eyes, causing her to sneeze half the time. Hardly a place that someone would look for, but to Ronnica, it was the shortest way to get to the top of this mountain, cross it, and go down again. She was on one of her wanders again, and had some vague idea of getting to the Boreios Sudesha by spring. She had been there before and the continent's cascading waterfalls, singing marshes and beautiful pinewoods won a place in her heart. Ronnica wanted to return there badly, but she was in no hurry. She preferred slower but surer advance over a quick and rash one, and this dreadful slope was not going to irk her. When she got to the top, where the dried earth gave way to a rocky plateau, sporting an odd, wind-beaten weed here and there, darkness had already layed out its shawls and shadows. The pale pendragon's coat looked like white mist moving around in the night, her black locks completely invisible. A worn scabbard hung inconspicuously by her waist, an ivory-leafed metal handle sticking out of it. The sheath had been next-to-new a year ago, when Ronnica had obtained it - along with the sword - from a raided pirate ship, but after being lugged through various environments and places it lost its new look and now held together only thanks to the durability of its fibres. The few stitches that Ronnica had knotted into it helped as well, even though they didn't add to its esthetical appearance. She continued, hard rock biting into the soles of her paws. She was used to it though and the said soles were so hardened by years of ranging and travelling that they didn't mind either. Ronnica passed a couple of trees, which looked magnificent, but still nothing compared to the ones of the northern part of the continent. Presently the plateau ended, dried ground once again replacing rock. Ronnica stopped as soon as she felt the ground sift and move under her. She fingered the pouches around her neck, most of them contining medical supplies (e.i. herbs, leaves etc.). It was nothing special, but Ronnie had a tendency to touch and play with something when she was unsure of what to do next or in deep thought. Right now she was honestly considering rounding the second slope. After all, the one she had clambered up on was bad enough, what would a downwards one do was beyond her. And then again, Ronnica had no idea where it led to. As far as she knew, and could distinguish from the darkness below, it could finish on a meadow or fall down a cliff or anything. But then, who knows it it could be rounded. The seventeen hundred didn't want to find herself rounding the whole moutain. So, rather carefuly, she put her front paws in front of her and started descending. At first it went all right. The ground wasn't as loose and light as it looked at first glance, and Ronnica began to ease up. She lifted a paw and moved it to a place more downwards. It was secure enough... that is, until she lifted her second foot. Then the supporting piece of earth gave way and with it - or so it seemed to Ronnie - the whole slope. The pale pendragon lost her footing and fell headfirst into the avalanche, her mouth filling with dirt and choking her, dust claiming her whole body... With a loud rustling a few tons of earth moved down, down, and down, gathering speed as they were pulled away from their mother slope. Ronnica was closed away from cool air, her eyes screwed shut, dust filling her nostrils. She couldn't move, and so she let the avalanche hassle her here and there, praying silently and waiting for it to slow down. At last, it did. The pale female was suddenly lying still, blood pouring into her head and darkness all around. Keeping her eyes closed, she started moving her arms, positioning them so that her head was above. With relief the pounding in her cranium stopped, and she nodded and shook it for a moment to make sure all her nerves were functioning. They seemed to work, and Ronnica pulled her hand free from the ruins around her and started pawing above her head. She hoped she was moving in the right direction, but there was no way she could tell. Suddenly her paws broke free. Blindly, the girl groped around for something to hold on, fighting to get to the surface. A moment later, her head broke into the night air. Ronnica opened her eyes and took a deep breath, then another one and another. "Oh my," she chuckled to herself, "I've just lived through an avalanche!" But it wasn't that easy. Trying to pull herself out, Ronnie realised she couldn't move her lower legs. They were either caught under a boulder or something or... or those nerves had been broken after all. Either way, there was no way she could get the rest of her body out. Ronnica's paw balled into a fist and she cursed out loud, hoping that there was a boulder somewhere below. It dawned on her though that she would never get out, not without outside help. And who would be wandering around in the Notios Sudesha mountains in this time of the year...? Nevertheless, Ronnica decided to give it a try. "Help!" she screeched, then grew silent and listened. Nothing stirred, so she tried again. And again. And again. Her cries for help shattered the quiet night, scared and desperate. ~~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~~</font>
Xemturu’s eyes opened wide in a semi-state of confusion. He felt the ground beneath him rumble and move, as though the cave would collapse. Every item in his home shook free from their bonds, the mirror slipping off the table and smashing into a thousand gleaming shards. He watched in disgust as every piece, shining bright as diamonds, faded out like an old star. As the mountain calmed, he stood again, slowly marking his bearings. His wings began to glow around him, lighting the room once again. Everything around him lay in ruin, chunks of rock had fallen from the ceiling, wax lay strewn about the floor beside the now broken candle. As the dust slowly settled all around him, he turned abruptly and carefully slipped into the main chamber. Not nearly having as much damage, the main section of his den was littered with fallen objects. Merely an inconvenience, he tried to convince himself. It would take some time to repair all the damage, not considering the loss of his priceless mirror. Suddenly it dawned on him though, this was no natural occurrence, for the mountain was sturdy, and weather would not be a factor in an earthquake. If that’s what it even was. Hardly being one to let things slide, Xemturu realized he’d have to go investigate what would dare to disturb his mountain. A while later he appeared through the doorway, now twisted and broken, the enchantment gone fully. Another job for another day, he thought, but now was the time to investigate what had happened. The moon was in full, and hardly a cloud was in the sky, save one large cloud being blown in from the south. Looking to the mountaintop, he knew it would be the best view of how the terrain had changed. He spread his wings wide, dimmed the color, and took off into the night sky. In a swift motion, he landed hard on the mountain peak, his armor and sword clinking together. Before he even had time to look around and consider the terrain, a single set of tracks were clearly visible just in front of him. Someone had been up here, and that someone seemed most likely responsible for his now condemned cave. Anger flared in his eyes, and he carefully followed the trail with his burning red orbs. The trail faded off to the right of him, slipping over a bank and down what he knew was a steep drop. Suddenly a cry broke free in the air, a sound that Xemturu had not heard in many a year. It was a Pendragon voice, ringing out in the crisp air, smashing the silence and most likely attracting many a foe. Any creature looking for food in these mountains knew that a helpless victim was the easiest kind. Once again, the moonbeams were sliced by the shadow of what looked like an archangel soaring to earth. Following the trail, Xemturu saw that an avalanche had in fact occurred, destroying the face of the mountain and leaving many loose footholds for travelers. Sticking along with the avalanche path, he could her the cries clearer and clearer as he progressed. As he came over the crest of a large boulder, he saw a form of a female Pendragon, cascade in a hue of silver and crystal, seeming to absorb the moonlight. In a voice as cold as steel, he nonchalantly stated, “Every creature on this mountain will likely be hunting tonight. Preparing to be food for a scavenger I see?" Floating in front of the moon, her color disappeared, and the only hint that she was their was a gleam of hope in her eyes. She said not a word to him, and as Xemturu looked upon the situation, he could se her leg awkwardly hidden beneath a large curved rock. He approached the female and landed a few feet above her, on top of the boulder, which had first blocked his view of her. When his feet touched the boulder, he felt its weight shift suddenly, and rolled forward as the ground gave out beneath him. The mountain opened beneath the two strangers, engulfing the land as though it was hungry for more and more. Xemturu came up in a quick roll, trying to fly into the night. Before he even fully spread his wings, another rock crashed hard into his back, sprawling him forward against the mountain wall. Blackness took over, and the last thing he saw was the beautiful female tumbling beside him, deep into the earth, into a winding twisting tunnel that seemed to stretch forever. When the mountain stopped its feast, all that could be seen was a large divot where Xemturu had last stood… *~~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~~*
<font color=navy> Ronnica had a sour reply on her tongue as soon as the other pendragon spoke. But severe pain, small rivers of red hot blood soared through her left leg and instead of snapping back, she just hissed in pain. After all, it wouldn't be wise to make an enemy out of someone who was the only source of help, however slim the chance that he would help was. Anyway, Ronnica could've saved her trouble, because as soon as the flame-winged male settled on the boulder, the whole thing moved its centre of balance. The large stone rolled down the hill... or attempted to. Because a few metres below it was a large gap in the ground, half-hidden by rubble and stones. The boulder was slowed down by another of its kind right before the seemingly bottomless pit; it lurched and its rider was cast into the air and down into the black opening, the whole slope moving into action once again. "No," moaned Ronnica and tried to hold back, but the sweeping wave knocked her headfirst right after the red pendragon. She fell down, falling, falling, her hands reaching out to stop her fall by some means - yet all she ever touched was smooth rock. Above her, the boulder thudded finally into place, right over the mouth of the chute, blocking out all light and sound. Last grains of dust rained down on her head and shoulders, and she winced when she felt their soft prickling against her scales. Then suddenly, just as quickly as it started, her "flight" came to an end. Ronnica landed on her stomach, her breath knocked out of her. Darkness descended on her eyes like a veil. She gave a small gasp and lay still in the dark, almost not daring to breathe. It was a long time before she moved. She was lying on a bed of a smooth and silky sand-dirt mix, which explained why she wasn't dead or even crippled after such a fall. The earth had evidently sifted into the chute through the rubble at the entrance and formed a soft pillow at the bottom. Ronnie rolled onto her side and kicked with each of her legs separately, then tried climbing to her feet. Her knees buckled beneath her, but she stayed standing, breathing heavily to calm down her quickly beating heart. Slowly but surely, the jelly substance that had posessed her legs wafted out and soon Ronnica was herself yet again. She ran her paw over her ribcage and was relieved to learn that all of the bones in there were all right. She had apparently landed on her chestbone and that was why it was such a pain to breathe. But that would pass soon - it was nothing more than a small ankle sprain, at least in Ronnica's opinion. Translate that as "not health-threatening". The small cave was basked in the soft glow of the pendragon's wings. The flames licked up the curve of the wingbone and back down like the feathers of a Phoenix. It was Ronnica's first chance to have a good look at the pendragon who had given her such an odd word of greeting. She moved to stand next to him, and bent down, fitting him into the recovery position. The armour pieces clanked against each other, making even the slightest move a small choir of echoes. Ronnica grumbled quietly, adding her own alt voice to the building orchestra. However inclined she was to grumble about things though, she could not say that the armour got in way with the body's movements. She managed to hoist the pendragon into the position required for knocked out people without much trouble and then set to work to remove the few marks that had been left on his body after the fall. Being a Healer in training, Ronnica was more or less required to carry a small first aid kit with her at all times. She adapted this rule to her own needs, and instead of lugging around a box, transferred most of her medicaments and healing supplies into a couple of pouches that hung on a string over her neck. There were other things amidst this simple carrier, for example a wallet and a few talismans that Ronnica collected throughout her travels. Most of them looked rather strange, but then again, that's the point of amulets, isn't it? It is not the point of medicaments though. Ronnica's supply would've made a Master Healer roll their eyes. There were no bandages, no pills or bottles with potions, but only leaves, leaves, leaves, flowers, stems, leaves, roots and some leaves to top it off. No need to say it twice, Ronnica believed in herbal medicine and had grown quite adept at applying it. She liked flowers and herbs in general, picking them while ranging and trailing around various parts of the Ramath-lehi. You could find some rather bizarre plants among the botanical garden around her neck - if she was feeling like showing it to you. There were shekhel leaves that provided you with bright fierce light for about a minute. As they emitted light, they started to swell and pull all their secret water reserves out. As soon as the light went out completely, you had a swollen leaf in you hand filled to bursting with water. Among Ronnie's "medicine" was also a hidden roll of natjeq leaves - a form of ramathian marijuana. It was said that it had healing properties and Ronnie carried a dried natjeq with her hoping that one day she'll have the time to find out how exactly it worked. So far she didn't dare to risk it - even though she enjoyed a cigarette sometimes, she had no understanding for drugs, be it soft ones or any other kind, for all that mattered to her. She took out a few kjatt leaves among the jumble in her small pharmacy. Kjatt leaves were the best sort for healing open cuts and wounds without a bruise. The pale female pressed it onto a nasty cut on the male's forehead. A hissing sound reached her ears and the leaf slowly shrivelled in her paw. She brushed away its cinders and smiled at the unconscious pendragon, his wound being now non existent. In the same manner, Ronnica tended other two cuts before she was be satisfied. Then she lay down in a relaxed position some feet away, her back resting against a rock, the handle of her sword snug against her side. Her brown eyes were open, their color almost lost in the soft glow that filled the cave. ~~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~~</font>
Pains thudded throughout Xemturu's body, particularly in his back and his ribs. Strangely enough, he felt refreshed and very well rested although he had fallen deep into an underground passageway. Well, from what he had surmised. All he could remember was the ground giving way under his feet, and seeing a female pendragon fall along with him. Gathering the strength he had, he opened his eyes, and sat up slowly, his elbows digging into the ground behind him. Surveying the area, he noticed how soft the ground seemed, and the cavern he was in was slightly larger than he had imagined. The other thing he had noticed was the form lying at his feet. Cautiously, he checked for his sword, a small clinking noise assuring him that none of his equipment had been disturbed. The noise also roused the creature, which was just a small distance away. Xemturu swiftly rose, spinning a complete circle in a dizzying frenzy. In an instant both swords were crossed in front of him, creating a defensive barrier which would be more than difficult to penetrate. He wanted no confrontation, but also would take no chances. The "creature" rose just as quickly, sword flying from its sheath. Xemturu flared his wings wide, lighting the cavern to get a better look at this adversary, but also to blind and confuse it as well. His swords dropped back though when he realized it was the pendragon he had oh-so miserably saved. It was unlike Xemturu, but the thought of this pendragon not abandoning him sent a quick and reassuring message that not all was what it seemed here, and he bowed low in a gesture of forgiveness. " I see fate has dealt us a strange hand..." His voice was barren and cold, "Shall we drop our weapons and examine our predicament?" *~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~*
