Dragon Crest, IC

[TyranntX]

Prologue​

Thousands of years ago Eight Dragons fought for dominance over the world with little to no regard for the destruction they caused and the humans that possibly got caught in the crossfire. Their conflict nearly drove the human race into extinction, until a young mage from a sisterhood of monks rose up to speak to them. She urged them to hold their conflict so that man cold restore them selves, naturally the dragons were reluctant but the girl proposed a deal to them. She would seal them away in separate realms to restore them selves every 200 years while the human race has a chance to rebuild their homes and raise their numbers. In exchange after 200 years have passed, humans will free them and aid their cause to fight for and obtain a powerful relic... The holy sword Excalibur, which will grant the winners of this "Dragon War" EACH a single wish as well as the right to rule the world until the end of the human's life span. The Dragons accepted the terms, and since then the human race was able to prosper and grow more efficiently while the dragons where able to continue their conflict. The time for the Next Dragon War is close at hand? Who will win the Holy sword?

As we speak, Eight humans are already in the process of gathering the materials needed to summon their dragon of choice. From America to France, from common criminals to wealthy families, this dragon war was going to be significantly different than all those past. That much was certain, yet the Magi from the Sisterhood of Laas were uncertain and even fearful of the dragon that may become the victor this time around. Yet Brayora, the head sister of the circle reassured them that even if the most sinister wish was to be granted it would likely reach it's end by the time the next dragon war rolled around. and After dealing with many said wishes in the past, how could the wish of the next winner be any different?

As for the humans in question, where the summoned their dragons did not seem to matter in the slightest. So long as they follow the following instructions and have the following requirements...

1. Your must have the correct magic circle drawn onto the surface you summon your dragon.
2. You must have the correct Tribute
3. Site the correct incantations
4. The Dragon in question must not have been summoned by another summoner

If all the conditions are met, a glorious beam of light will be let loose from the center of the circle and illuminate the path for the dragon to free it's self. and the great beast on which you called upon will rise into the mortal realm and thus the pact between Dragon and summoner will be complete! once all Dragons have been summoned, they and their summoners will be be gathered by the High sister Brayora her self, who will disclose the rules of dragon war to each of them. After the gathering, the game would begin! and the Next Dragon war for the Holy Sword will take place!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

[Laplace]

Timothy Feng
------------------
So.

Uh.

I've been standing here in this alleyway for three minutes. There's a circle at my feet, and a bunch of idiots groaning in varying shades of pain. One idiot's cradling an arm with a few holes poked in it, courtesy of me truly. Anyway, by the circle's side, there's a bowl of ice and a note. Why they need that, I don't know. "Fuck-" a man by my feet rises up. I kick his ribs, which I graciously cracked earlier before. His spasms made the bowl fall into the circle, sending ice cubes splattering all over inside the circle.

I picked up the note, and read it out loud. "Dragon of Ice, Frosntur. Let your presence be felt upon this world! By the morning frost, descend! You guys are a joke. Who wrote this? Seriously, get a job instead of doing creepy shit in alleyways." Ignore the fact that I once choked some Iron Hawk guy in an alley with his own pants.

 

[Esarey]

Richard Dupree
The middle-aged professor sat in the study of his apartment. Under normal circumstances, he liked to keep his work place tidy and neat, with all of his files well-organized into cabinets and drawers, so that he could sort through them quickly and easily. Richard took pride in the efficiency with which he was able to grade his student's assignments and the quickness with which he could return them; of course, his students did not always like the grades that they received, but that was a whole other matter entirely. It was thanks to his carefully kept study that he was able to function like a well-oiled machine.

Now, however, it was a total mess.

Richard had worked double time to get all of his mid-term grading finished and submitted. That was a week and a half ago. Since then, he'd poured every waking hour, and probably a few too many hours he should have spent sleeping, into preparing for the summoning ritual. The first step of this of course included actually researching the ritual, which entailed a few days of poring over dozens of textbooks and every internet resource available to him. Once Richard had an idea of what he needed to do, he started gathering the components, formulating and practicing the incantation, and so forth.

By the time he was ready to perform the summoning, Richard's study was a mess. There were textbooks laying open all across his desk, along with numerous printouts, and looseleaf with lines upon lines of notation scrawled on them. One the wall was a bulletin board, festooned with clippings. Richard himself was unshaven, with stubble smeared across his cheeks and chin, and his hair a touch greasy. But none of it mattered, because he was finally ready.

"Gol dovah bel," Richard spoke, pronouncing each syllable with practiced precision, "Gol dovah bel. Festum bel! (@chocolote12)" And he lifted up the wooden bowl which contained his offering: a single padlock, nestled within hyacinth flowers.

 

[TyranntX]

Sabrina Prya

After weeks of practice and preparations, The young girl felt a sea of emotion overwhelm her as she began gathering all the materials she needed to summon the all powerful Dragon of light. Sabrina was begining to wonder if she had picked the right dragon to help her, surely another one would have been a better choice. The Dragon of Nature? No, she had allergies and didn't want them to interfere with the ritual. What about Fire? Not possible, What could she possibly burn without causing problems? What about the Dragon of Darkness? Definitely not, she didn't have the heart to take a life... be it A human or an animal. It Had to be the Dragon of light, she didn't have the resources for anything else. It broke her heart just to think about having to give away the locket her mother gave to her, but if it meant for a chance for see her again... then so be it.

Sabrina hopped aboard the next train to the city limits, where she had found a forest secluded from prying eyes from seeing her preform the summoning. She Drew the magic circle, and placed her locket in a box int the center of the circle. Sabrina started to cry a little, but shortly came to her senses and made the finishing touches to the magic circle and started to cite the incantation.

"Dovah do Kun, Hon Zey! Zu'u Ofan hi daar ofanaat wah stin hi nol hin laag! Vopraan ahrk aav dii reid dovah kein!"

 

[Theaxofwar]

Amber Smith

Amber grinned as she stood in front of the house. Making a summoning circle that surrounded the entire house had been difficult, but she'd used her fire magic to make it work. She had been planning on using a smaller offering, but when she'd seen the amount being offered to burn this house down, she couldn't resist. Besides, she'd probably be the first person in the history of the dragon wars to use a house as tribute, so she figured that meant extra points for originality. Where those points can be used is a mystery, but points none the less.
She lifted her hands and spoke the draconic words of the ritual. "Zu'u Bel Hi, Dovah Do Yol!" She grinned as the house lit up in flames.
@Sablonus

 

[chocolote12]

The Runes numbered ninety six, inscribed upon thrice partitioned orbs set into the floor, like chatoyant gems. The outer circle bore forty eight, aligned to the Infernal. The middle circle bore thirty two, aligned to the Void. The inner circle bore sixteen, aligned to the World. The Central Glyph was wrought of finest gold and sapphire, in the shape of the Crescent Moon. The components, arranged around the cardinal points, represented an innumerable amount of wealth, easily enough to ransom a king.

To the West, a diamond glinted in the candle light, blue and pure. To the South, another, tainted with magic, shone a beautiful violet. To the East lay a jewel such as the jewel of the South, but filled to the brim with power. And to the North, there was a glossy pearl, comparable to the jewel of the East in its splendor but filled with an essence alien to the world, and to the powers of life and light. They surrounded a skull, gnarled and ashen black, wet with the blood of a thinking heart. Small flickers of green light slithered slowly through the substance, as if clinging to something they had just recently lost.

The Summoning was complete. The key was in the gate. All that was required was that it be turned. No loud voice, no special intonation. Only the Invitation.

"Eu te conjure, oh mare dragon!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Gol dovah bel," Richard spoke, pronouncing each syllable with practiced precision, "Gol dovah bel. Festum bel! (@chocolote12)" And he lifted up the wooden bowl which contained his offering: a single padlock, nestled within hyacinth flowers.

Click to shrink...

For a brief moment, there was no air in the room; It had been filled with a singular crystal, molded such that even the finest particles floating in the miniature currents found themselves suspended.

And then that moment was over, and the padlock was in the palm of a slender figure that greatly resembled a student in both build and dress, save for the large metal fin on either side of their head.

The EverFormed Wyrm looks into the eyes of Their Summoner, and slowly nods.

 

[Esarey]

Richard Dupree

For a brief moment, there was no air in the room; It had been filled with a singular crystal, molded such that even the finest particles floating in the miniature currents found themselves suspended.

And then that moment was over, and the padlock was in the palm of a slender figure that greatly resembled a student in both build and dress, save for the large metal fin on either side of their head.

The EverFormed Wyrm looks into the eyes of Their Summoner, and slowly nods.

Click to shrink...

Richard's eyes widened as the sight of the dragon before him, his absolute awe clear in his face.

"I didn't... I wasn't honestly certain that this would work," the professor breathed. "You're— you're Festum, correct? Dragon of the Earth? The, ah, the..." He quickly shuffled through several of the papers laid out on his desk. "The 'Ally of Man, Enemy of Nothing', or, 'Prometheus', or, uh, 'the Martyred One', yes? That's really you?"

 

[TyranntX]

The Runes numbered ninety six, inscribed upon thrice partitioned orbs set into the floor, like chatoyant gems. The outer circle bore forty eight, aligned to the Infernal. The middle circle bore thirty two, aligned to the Void. The inner circle bore sixteen, aligned to the World. The Central Glyph was wrought of finest gold and sapphire, in the shape of the Crescent Moon. The components, arranged around the cardinal points, represented an innumerable amount of wealth, easily enough to ransom a king.

To the West, a diamond glinted in the candle light, blue and pure. To the South, another, tainted with magic, shone a beautiful violet. To the East lay a jewel such as the jewel of the South, but filled to the brim with power. And to the North, there was a glossy pearl, comparable to the jewel of the East in its splendor but filled with an essence alien to the world, and to the powers of life and light. They surrounded a skull, gnarled and ashen black, wet with the blood of a thinking heart. Small flickers of green light slithered slowly through the substance, as if clinging to something they had just recently lost.

The Summoning was complete. The key was in the gate. All that was required was that it be turned. No loud voice, no special intonation. Only the Invitation.

"Eu te conjure, oh mare dragon!"

Click to shrink...

Malitaar​

​

At First, it seemed as if Nothing had happened, the lights still flickered and the gems kept their sheen. but after time began to pass the lights died out and the Magic circle began to glow an sinister purple. The ground began to shake a bit, and over time it began grow in power and scale. A horrid circle of black and green fire outlined the summoning rune, as the light emitted before began to pulsate. Then, a great beam of light busted from the center of the circle, swallowing the tribute whole and shining off all the objects surrounding the area. It was a cool, dark, violet light, a light that could only symbolize true evil. Shortly after consuming the tribute a black fog enveloped the room, the wicked fire died out, and the light shaft began to flicker and fade until the point where it too was extinguished. Now everything was pitch black, no light sources what so ever, The only thing that could be seen was a pair of purple glowing eyes. Something was definitely here, something big and fearsome. It let out a jarring roar, to quell the the darkness, and reignite the black flames. The Darkness Dragon, had been summoned. He looked down to the Human before him, and spoke to her.

"I am the Darkness Dragon! The Saurus-Bane, Malitaar! Who has summoned me!"​

 

[Sablonus]

Gale Aeolus, Windwaker

Deep within a warehouse, a ritual had begun, awaited for centuries by the noblest of houses.

Dozens of voices whispered through the building, chanting as one.

Spoiler: Chant

A circle of chalk had been drawn upon the cracked, battered, cement floor, and within it, a crest.

Spoiler: Crest

In the center of the circle laid the feathers of an Asian Crested Ibis, plucked from the highest mountain.

And for what one might've asked?

To summon Vieldrynur, mightiest of all eight Dragons of course!

Gale Aeolus, Champion of the Aeolus Clan, had been prepared all his life for the honor of participating in the legendary event.

For years, he had trained, practiced, and sweat blood and tears for the glory of this event. For the glory of his family!

It all led up to this moment.

Overcome by emotion, he looked to the sky above, holding back tears of joy.

"Morokei.. Dovah Do Ven.. Mu Bonaar Joor.. Bel Hin.. Viing Do.. Ven.."

"Mother.. Father.. I shall make you prou-"

Gale Aeolus, Windwaker

William Oliver Dundee, Alcoholic Hobo "Sightseer"

Spoiler: Sound Effect

"AAAAAGHHH- *hick* -UGHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The chanters garbed in hoods of purest ivory looked up with their chosen Champion, pausing in their ominous ritual of yore.

Only to be blinded by dazzling light!

Wait, no, that was glass.

Jaws agape, they watched as an angel from the highest of the heavens glided down, holy flames of the Lord gracing his body!

Er-A-And by that we mean a flaming, ragged, alcoholic fell through their skylight. In a barrel of whiskey. Which was on fire.

"MOTHERFUCKINGGODAMNSONOFASHITSTAINEDTHUNDERCUNTFUCKFACEPISSPOTJACKASS-"

With a scream of drunken terror, the boy in the barrel of whiskey crashed into the Champion of Winds, snapping his neck with 300 pounds of cheap alcohol.

But not before a beam of light shot through the earth, a howling gust of wind consuming the feathers of the Crested Ibis.

Blearily, the boy in the barrel stumbled out, his clothes soaked with sweat, blood, and booze.

Scratching his bright red hair with the bottle clutched in his hand, he swiveled around, squinting at the blurry carnage he had unknowingly wrought upon the once quiet warehouse.

"Oi! What the fuck? Where'd those bloody debt collectah's goOOUAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!"

And that's when his hand started being branded.

 

[Esarey]

Vieldrynur, Sentinel of Aeolus

"AAAAAGHHH- *hick* -UGHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The chanters garbed in hoods of purest ivory looked up with their chosen Champion, pausing in their ominous ritual of yore.

Only to be blinded by dazzling light!

Wait, no, that was glass.

Jaws agape, they watched as an angel from the highest of the heavens glided down, holy flames of the Lord gracing his body!

Er-A-And by that we mean a flaming, ragged, alcoholic fell through their skylight. In a barrel of whiskey. Which was on fire.

"MOTHERFUCKINGGODAMNSONOFASHITSTAINEDTHUNDERCUNTFUCKFACEPISSPOTJACKASS-"

With a scream of drunken terror, the boy in the barrel of whiskey crashed into the Champion of Winds, snapping his neck with 300 pounds of cheap alcohol.

But not before a beam of light shot through the earth, a howling gust of wind consuming the feathers of the Crested Ibis.

Blearily, the boy in the barrel stumbled out, his clothes soaked with sweat, blood, and booze.

Scratching his bright red hair with the bottle clutched in his hand, he swiveled around, squinting at the blurry carnage he had unknowingly wrought upon the once quiet warehouse.

"Oi! What the fuck? Where'd those bloody debt collectah's goOOUAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!"

And that's when his hand started being branded.

Click to shrink...

There was a whistling of wind through the building, and perhaps a faint flapping of wings. Then, standing behind the young man was a woman wearing a set of robes not far from those of a monk. Her eyes were a solid blue color, as though two orbs of lapis lazuli rested in her sockets. She transfixed William with them for a very, very long time.

"Did you just murder my summoner," she asked, voice calm. Calm in the same way the eye of a hurricane was calm.

 

[chocolote12]

Malitaar​

​

At First, it seemed as if Nothing had happened, the lights still flickered and the gems kept their sheen. but after time began to pass the lights died out and the Magic circle began to glow an sinister purple. The ground began to shake a bit, and over time it began grow in power and scale. A horrid circle of black and green fire outlined the summoning rune, as the light emitted before began to pulsate. Then, a great beam of light busted from the center of the circle, swallowing the tribute whole and shining off all the objects surrounding the area. It was a cool, dark, violet light, a light that could only symbolize true evil. Shortly after consuming the tribute a black fog enveloped the room, the wicked fire died out, and the light shaft began to flicker and fade until the point where it too was extinguished. Now everything was pitch black, no light sources what so ever, The only thing that could be seen was a pair of purple glowing eyes. Something was definitely here, something big and fearsome. It let out a jarring roar, to quell the the darkness, and reignite the black flames. The Darkness Dragon, had been summoned. He looked down to the Human before him, and spoke to her.

"I am the Darkness Dragon! The Saurus-Bane, Malitaar! Who has summoned me!"​

Click to shrink...

The Summoner stood to the Northeast of the Circle, triumphant in her bearing. She made a grandiose proclamation of her identity, and listed titles sufficient to awe even those well versed in the Black arts. Mortals would tremble at the dark power she then displayed, and spirits flee from her obvious mastery of Calling and Binding, for what little good it would do them.

Unfortunately (Or perhaps this was luck, that she would not have to wait for Malitaar to uncurl himself from the frightened ball he surely would have entwined himself in had he witnessed the true grandeur of her introduction), all of this was drowned out by the rather dramatic theme music playing in the background.

By the time it ended, she looked rather annoyed, and spoke with the exasperation of somebody cutting to the chase, though with less haste. "My name is Chrysanthemum --A sudden, brief burst of music interrupted her one final time, and the dramatic climax played out while her face went through multiple expressions, finally settling on one that looked genuinely cheery about something--, and I am your Summoner, oh Dragon of Darkness."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I didn't... I wasn't honestly certain that this would work," the professor breathed. "You're— you're Festum, correct? Dragon of the Earth? The, ah, the..." He quickly shuffled through several of the papers laid out on his desk. "The 'Ally of Man, Enemy of Nothing', or, 'Prometheus', or, uh, 'the Martyred One', yes? That's really you?"

Click to shrink...

The form of that which is the true enemy of all Faery remained utterly unreadable, yet if one were to allow themselves a moment of imagination they might have come to the conclusion that it was amused. In an utterly average voice, one that defied all proper convention by not rolling across the terrain with the grinding roar of tectonic plates in motion, The First Wall replies. "I am not Festum, and I imagine that you would not be as pleased with your success if I were. I am Ferrum, Grand Dragon of Earth."

 

[TyranntX]

The Summoner stood to the Northeast of the Circle, triumphant in her bearing. She made a grandiose proclamation of her identity, and listed titles sufficient to awe even those well versed in the Black arts. Mortals would tremble at the dark power she then displayed, and spirits flee from her obvious mastery of Calling and Binding, for what little good it would do them.

Unfortunately (Or perhaps this was luck, that she would not have to wait for Malitaar to uncurl himself from the frightened ball he surely would have entwined himself in had he witnessed the true grandeur of her introduction), all of this was drowned out by the rather dramatic theme music playing in the background.

By the time it ended, she looked rather annoyed, and spoke with the exasperation of somebody cutting to the chase, though with less haste. "My name is Chrysanthemum --A sudden, brief burst of music interrupted her one final time, and the dramatic climax played out while her face went through multiple expressions, finally settling on one that looked genuinely cheery about something--, and I am your Summoner, oh Dragon of Darkness."

Click to shrink...

Malitaar

The Dragon would lower his head to be level with that of his summoner, he took no time at all with his formalities. "Greetings Chrysanthemum, from this day forward we are partners. May our conquest lead us to victory, lead our armies well and the holly sword shall be in our grasp!" he said, speaking out with confidence and pride. Malitaar may have lost all of the previous dragon wars, but this time may very well be different. He took a moment to observe his surroundings, to see just how much has the world changed with his own eyes. But from the looks of things, he was summoned indoors... However, he had noticed a number of magical artifacts and even treasure that seemed to belong to a dragon horde rather than a mortal of most if not any kind of breed. Puzzled to some degree, he looked back to his summoner and spoke once more. "Tell me Chrysanthemum, what is it that you seek from Excalibur? What is your wish?"

@chocolote12

 

[Esarey]

Richard Dupree

The form of that which is the true enemy of all Faery remained utterly unreadable, yet if one were to allow themselves a moment of imagination they might have come to the conclusion that it was amused. In an utterly average voice, one that defied all proper convention by not rolling across the terrain with the grinding roar of tectonic plates in motion, The First Wall replies. "I am not Festum, and I imagine that you would not be as pleased with your success if I were. I am Ferrum, Grand Dragon of Earth."

Click to shrink...

The man frowned, briefly pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and checking through some other printouts and notes. "Ferrum, you say? I suppose... I suppose that does make more sense, yes. You'll have to forgive me for my mistake, all of the information I have about you is at least two hundred years old, and most of it much older. The, ah, the 'Dragon Wars', as I believe they're called, they are not incredibly well-documented events, unfortunately, both due to their relative brevity and their rather fantastical nature."

The professor paused, removing his glasses for a moment and beginning to clean them. Once they were back on, he turned to face Ferrum. "Is it true, then? About the Dragon War? About the wish that's granted, if you're victorious?"

 

[Sablonus]

Amber Smith

Amber grinned as she stood in front of the house. Making a summoning circle that surrounded the entire house had been difficult, but she'd used her fire magic to make it work. She had been planning on using a smaller offering, but when she'd seen the amount being offered to burn this house down, she couldn't resist. Besides, she'd probably be the first person in the history of the dragon wars to use a house as tribute, so she figured that meant extra points for originality. Where those points can be used is a mystery, but points none the less.
She lifted her hands and spoke the draconic words of the ritual. "Zu'u Bel Hi, Dovah Do Yol!" She grinned as the house lit up in flames.

Click to shrink...

Ancalagon

Deep within the core of the Earth, Ancalagon lay slumbering.

Of mortal men who's souls like hearths, so passionate they were singing.

And of igniting this blaze of fire, the Dragon had been dreaming.

With scales of purely burning desire, his yellow eyes were gleaming.

~

Ahh, the mortal world. Such an interesting place!

The mortals here had hearts of true passion, unlike many of his stuck up siblings! Brimming with fire, with excitement, with-

Oh? What the..?

A-Ah.. I-It seems h-humanity had r-relaxed their b-boundaries in certain t-types of..

Passion..

...

Nevermind that, he had a summoning to attend!

Turning his gaze to his location of calling, he smiled as he watched the bright eyed lass go through the ritual.

Ever so slightly, he raised a scaly eyebrow in nostalgia. How lovely! No one had thought to give him a building since that time in 1666 AD!

Ah, what blaze of glory that was. Hoepfully London was still standing today, he'd like to visit it again.

Didn't they make a few stories about his deeds? Oh right.. like that one time Solaris' master shanked him with a lance..

Fucking George.

Shaking his head of the seemingly random thoughts, he could feel the seal releasing as it had so long ago.

It had been a while since he won a War, but he could do it! With such a passionate summoner, he'd be sure to melt Ferrum's rusty hide!

With a maw the size of a shipping truck, the Dragon of Fire grinned, dozens of man-sized teeth lining his jaws.

It was time to put on a show.

Spoiler: Song

A seemingly young boy in his teens materialized within the inferno, eyes alight with excitement.

The blaze began escalating, quickly growing into a swirling pillar of fire, and at the outer edges a vortex of cinders and ash had risen from the charred ground. Wood was consumed, and the stone foundations had began melting from the intensity of the flames. The concrete near the house bubbled and sizzled, nearby stream of water boiling into steam.

Striding from the inferno, he hummed along with the music, practically skipping.

"Hiya lass! My name's Ancalagon, but you can call me Al!" With a manic smile, he snapped his fingers, the twisting pillar of fire behind them dissapating into the sky, columns of dark smoke beginning to rise.

"But if you don't mind me asking miss.." He looked directly into her burning eyes.

"I know what I want.."

Long live rock and roll!

"But what exactly do you want?"

 

[Sablonus]

William Oliver Dundee

It was quite lucky something soft broke his fall, or he would have doubtlessly been splattered across the warehouse floor.

Nonetheless, the furious spike of pain in his arm washed away the dullness of alcohol within the boy's mind, allowing him to think clearly.

"HIMMELDONNERWETTER-BOLUDO-JEBIESZ JEZE-ULLU KA PATTA-!"

And use that mind to think of even more creative curses.

Panting heavily, the drunk finished his rant with a grunt of pain, and began limping in a random direction, only to come face to face with a women.

Vieldrynur, Sentinel of Aeolus

There was a whistling of wind through the building, and perhaps a faint flapping of wings. Then, standing behind the young man was a woman wearing a set of robes not far from those of a monk. Her eyes were a solid blue color, as though two orbs of lapis lazuli rested in her sockets. She transfixed William with them for a very, very long time.

"Did you just murder my summoner," she asked, voice calm. Calm in the same way the eye of a hurricane was calm.

Click to shrink...

Squinting at the blurry figure 3 feet in front of him, the half-drunk, sweat soaked, beer scented boy looked around once more.

Cheap alcohol still poured from the shattered keg, soaking the once nobly dressed -or at least he presumed, kind of hard to tell now- man laying on the floor. The floor sparkled with shards of broken glass and splintered wood, highlighted by the bloody footprints leading to the exits.

"Egh! Crikey, what tha' hell 'appened to tha' poor bastard?!" As his vision refocused, Willy cringed. He wasn't a doctor by any means, but he was pretty sure those bones and splinters weren't supposed to be up there. Or there. Or over there-

Noticing the gaze of utter cold fury the robed woman had from the corner of his eyes, he stiffened, breathing in sharply.

If this was a normal situation, with normal civilians and normal stakes? He would have been out before he even acknowledged her, off to flee the debt collctors and law enforcemnt that was presumably busting down doors trying to find him.

Something about this situation though.. it gave him a nasty feeling in his gut, that probably wasn't just from the amount of beer he had been drinking.

Maybe it was her solid blue eyes, maybe it was the strange draft he felt, or maybe it was the chalk circle almost completely washed away by beer.

...

Probably the chalk circle.

Failing to wipe his mouth dry with his beer clogged sleeve, he flicked shards of glass from his shoulders before stumbling to the side, boots splashing in the puddles of blood and alcoholic substances. Looking up, he smiled hesitantly at the most likely powerful woman in front of him.

"That uh.. that was'n me mat- wait, summoner?"

 

[Esarey]

Vieldrynur, Sentinel of Aeolus

Failing to wipe his mouth dry with his beer clogged sleeve, he flicked shards of glass from his shoulders before stumbling to the side, boots splashing in the puddles of blood and alcoholic substances. Looking up, he smiled hesitantly at the most likely powerful woman in front of him.

"That uh.. that was'n me mat- wait, summoner?"

Click to shrink...

"I had been worried that humankind was devolving back into apes," said Vieldrynur, "but I had never expected that de-evolution to occur with such expediency, that one as neanderthalic as yourself was born within a mere two centuries. Tell me— if you can, in fact, still comprehend language— was one of your parents perhaps of a primate or simian persuasion?"

 

[Sablonus]

Vieldrynur, Sentinel of Aeolus

"I had been worried that humankind was devolving back into apes," said Vieldrynur, "but I had never expected that de-evolution to occur with such expediency, that one as neanderthalic as yourself was born within a mere two centuries. Tell me— if you can, in fact, still comprehend language— was one of your parents perhaps of a primate or simian persuasion?"

Click to shrink...

William Oliver Dundee

Left eye twitching in irritation, the boy kept his smile up, biting his tongue and gritting his teeth. As an orphan who knew 5 to 6 languages, she hit some real sore spots of his, was that magic, or was she just naturally that snide? Thought she was a real F.I.G.J.A.M, eh? Nonetheless, chances were that one little slip of the tongue could end in his body being flayed alive. As such, WIlliam uncharacteristically attempted to hold back a foul mouthed retort.

He failed.

"Look whacka, erste, I din't kill that bastard ovah' there, the barrel did. Zweite, I might be'a swagman, maybe even a hoon, but just 'cause I gotta gut full'a piss half the day and got the wobbly boot on the otha' half, don't mean ya' halfta drag me mum inta' this, see? Dritte, jus' cut the fancy yabba', tall poppy, i'm no stickybeak, I din't mean to get up into any'a your shonky business. And'a vierte? I'm far too sobah' for this."

Sighing, he unscrewed the cap of the metal flask on his belt, raising it to his lips.

Not a single drop fell from the container of whiskey.

Bringing a hand to his face, he muttered a few curses before turning back to the lady in robes.

"Look, i'll pay fuh this spiffy lil'..." He looked around. "-warehouse ya' got here, along with the occulty thingummy on the floor too, if it means ya' stop whingin' an' spewin', capiche?" He sniffed the cap of his flask, still too dazed to see the new tattoo on his right arm.

"Now you know any good places near this dump a kid could get on'a benda'?"

 

[TheFictionAddict]

Mei Ling

She'd been sitting here for awhile now, staring intently as she tried to decipher what was written in the aged book in front of her.
"Hmm? What is this..?", she leans back a bit, trying to get the glare out of her tired eyes, a work of hervlavk of sleep, working on a project, causing her to bump into the short behind her, a small, finger-sized seashell dropping from it, and bouncing off her shoulder onto the book.
" Ah! Oh...bah...", she squints again, pushing the seashell aside, into the centre of the odd looking circle, in an attempt to read the writing next to it..
"Sahrot Dovah Se Faal Okaaz, Zu'u Bel Hi, Zu'u Zaan, Dear Hi Fent Alok Ahrk Krif?"
What..?

---

Timothy Feng
------------------
So.

Uh.

I've been standing here in this alleyway for three minutes. There's a circle at my feet, and a bunch of idiots groaning in varying shades of pain. One idiot's cradling an arm with a few holes poked in it, courtesy of me truly. Anyway, by the circle's side, there's a bowl of ice and a note. Why they need that, I don't know. "Fuck-" a man by my feet rises up. I kick his ribs, which I graciously cracked earlier before. His spasms made the bowl fall into the circle, sending ice cubes splattering all over inside the circle.

I picked up the note, and read it out loud. "Dragon of Ice, Frosntur. Let your presence be felt upon this world! By the morning frost, descend! You guys are a joke. Who wrote this? Seriously, get a job instead of doing creepy shit in alleyways." Ignore the fact that I once choked some Iron Hawk guy in an alley with his own pants.

Click to shrink...

And the alley soon start to be covered in frost, temperatures dropping to a winter-y feel, as she'd there once was nothing but ice cubes, smoke like dry ice billowed, before blowing away to reveal a woman most properly described as Scandinavian, an impressive 8 feet tall, blonde locks falling over her shoulders, clad in an icy colored dress that accentuated her form.

Her stare was as cold as her voice, sterness and seriousness evident.

"You", her gaze pierces into Tim's.
"Are you the one that summoned me?", she asks, voice though devoid of warmth, is not cruel of heartless, sounding rather enchanting in it's monotone.

 

[Laplace]

Mei Ling

She'd been sitting here for awhile now, staring intently as she tried to decipher what was written in the aged book in front of her.
"Hmm? What is this..?", she leans back a bit, trying to get the glare out of her tired eyes, a work of hervlavk of sleep, working on a project, causing her to bump into the short behind her, a small, finger-sized seashell dropping from it, and bouncing off her shoulder onto the book.
" Ah! Oh...bah...", she squints again, pushing the seashell aside, into the centre of the odd looking circle, in an attempt to read the writing next to it..
"Sahrot Dovah Se Faal Okaaz, Zu'u Bel Hi, Zu'u Zaan, Dear Hi Fent Alok Ahrk Krif?"

Click to shrink...

"Hi," said Rahav, stepping out from behind a bookshelf, in all his sallow faced glory. "You called? Your pronounciation is utter arse, by the way."

And the alley soon start to be covered in frost, temperatures dropping to a winter-y feel, as she'd there once was nothing but ice cubes, smoke like dry ice billowed, before blowing away to reveal a woman most properly described as Scandinavian, an impressive 8 feet tall, blonde locks falling over her shoulders, clad in an icy colored dress that accentuated her form.

Her stare was as cold as her voice, sterness and seriousness evident.

"You", her gaze pierces into Tim's.
"Are you the one that summoned me?", she asks, voice though devoid of warmth, is not cruel of heartless, sounding rather enchanting in it's monotone.

Click to shrink...

Tim
--/--
I looked her dead in the eyes. "No.

"Not dealing with this today," I continued, turning around and walking out the alleyway. "Not dealing with this ever."

 

[Esarey]

Vieldrynur, Sentinel of Aeolus

Left eye twitching in irritation, the boy kept his smile up, biting his tongue and gritting his teeth. As an orphan who knew 5 to 6 languages, she hit some real sore spots of his, was that magic, or was she just naturally that snide? Thought she was a real F.I.G.J.A.M, eh? Nonetheless, chances were that one little slip of the tongue could end in his body being flayed alive. As such, WIlliam uncharacteristically attempted to hold back a foul mouthed retort.

He failed.

"Look whacka, erste, I din't kill that bastard ovah' there, the barrel did. Zweite, I might be'a swagman, maybe even a hoon, but just 'cause I gotta gut full'a piss half the day and got the wobbly boot on the otha' half, don't mean ya' halfta drag me mum inta' this, see? Dritte, jus' cut the fancy yabba', tall poppy, i'm no stickybeak, I din't mean to get up into any'a your shonky business. And'a vierte? I'm far too sobah' for this."

Sighing, he unscrewed the cap of the metal flask on his belt, raising it to his lips.

Not a single drop fell from the container of whiskey.

Bringing a hand to his face, he muttered a few curses before turning back to the lady in robes.

"Look, i'll pay fuh this spiffy lil'..." He looked around. "-warehouse ya' got here, along with the occulty thingummy on the floor too, if it means ya' stop whingin' an' spewin', capiche?" He sniffed the cap of his flask, still too dazed to see the new tattoo on his right arm.

"Now you know any good places near this dump a kid could get on'a benda'?"

Click to shrink...

The woman flicked a finger at the boy, and the result was almost as though someone had fired a high-powered air cannon into his chest at point blank range, sending him across the warehouse with such force that he may well hit the far wall of the building before he landed upon the ground.

"That was unsavory," Vieldrynur commented, before turning to address the cultists. "Is there anyone at hand who is capable of speaking intelligibly in English, or any other language, for that matter?"

"We do, my lady," spoke one of them, "We had been in the midst of your summoning, when this... 'interloper' made his entrance, and crushed our chosen champion, Gale the Windwaker."

The woman nodded carefully. "This is a rather unprecedented situation, then; particularly because I am still here. Under most circumstances, I would be un-summoned were my summoner to be killed. Yet, there he lies and the floor, and still here I stand."

"It does seem to be an impossibility, my lady," agreed the cultist.

 

[Sablonus]

Vieldrynur, Sentinel of Aeolus

The woman flicked a finger at the boy, and the result was almost as though someone had fired a high-powered air cannon into his chest at point blank range, sending him across the warehouse with such force that he may well hit the far wall of the building before he landed upon the ground.

"That was unsavory," Vieldrynur commented, before turning to address the cultists. "Is there anyone at hand who is capable of speaking intelligibly in English, or any other language, for that matter?"

"We do, my lady," spoke one of them, "We had been in the midst of your summoning, when this... 'interloper' made his entrance, and crushed our chosen champion, Gale the Windwaker."

The woman nodded carefully. "This is a rather unprecedented situation, then; particularly because I am still here. Under most circumstances, I would be un-summoned were my summoner to be killed. Yet, there he lies and the floor, and still here I stand."

"It does seem to be an impossibility, my lady," agreed the cultist.

Click to shrink...

Dust fell from the rafters of the warehouse as William hit the wall, a sickening crack emanating from his torso.

The boy slumped to to his hands and knees like a puppet who's strings had been severed, his teeth stained red as he coughed out blood, shards of plaster and stone falling from the crater behind him.

Pushing himself to his feet, he coughed out another wad of blood, before popping his neck.

"Bloody- hrrk! -mages.." Clutching his side, he began to limp towards one of the warehouse's exits, before noticing the marks on his arm he definitely wasn't drunk enough to forget recieving.

"Oi! Gassy!" Sue him, he was too drunk and concussed to think of a better nickname,

"Whas' this' mark 'ere on my arm? D'you curse me or somethin'?" Better not have been. Magic wind lady or not, his luck was shit enough as it is, he didn't need some black curse on his soul!

 

[Theaxofwar]

Ancalagon

Deep within the core of the Earth, Ancalagon lay slumbering.

Of mortal men who's souls like hearths, so passionate they were singing.

And of igniting this blaze of fire, the Dragon had been dreaming.

With scales of purely burning desire, his yellow eyes were gleaming.

~

Ahh, the mortal world. Such an interesting place!

The mortals here had hearts of true passion, unlike many of his stuck up siblings! Brimming with fire, with excitement, with-

Oh? What the..?

A-Ah.. I-It seems h-humanity had r-relaxed their b-boundaries in certain t-types of..

Passion..

...

Nevermind that, he had a summoning to attend!

Turning his gaze to his location of calling, he smiled as he watched the bright eyed lass go through the ritual.

Ever so slightly, he raised a scaly eyebrow in nostalgia. How lovely! No one had thought to give him a building since that time in 1666 AD!

Ah, what blaze of glory that was. Hoepfully London was still standing today, he'd like to visit it again.

Didn't they make a few stories about his deeds? Oh right.. like that one time Solaris' master shanked him with a lance..

Fucking George.

Shaking his head of the seemingly random thoughts, he could feel the seal releasing as it had so long ago.

It had been a while since he won a War, but he could do it! With such a passionate summoner, he'd be sure to melt Ferrum's rusty hide!

With a maw the size of a shipping truck, the Dragon of Fire grinned, dozens of man-sized teeth lining his jaws.

It was time to put on a show.

Spoiler: Song

A seemingly young boy in his teens materialized within the inferno, eyes alight with excitement.

The blaze began escalating, quickly growing into a swirling pillar of fire, and at the outer edges a vortex of cinders and ash had risen from the charred ground. Wood was consumed, and the stone foundations had began melting from the intensity of the flames. The concrete near the house bubbled and sizzled, nearby stream of water boiling into steam.

Striding from the inferno, he hummed along with the music, practically skipping.

"Hiya lass! My name's Ancalagon, but you can call me Al!" With a manic smile, he snapped his fingers, the twisting pillar of fire behind them dissapating into the sky, columns of dark smoke beginning to rise.

"But if you don't mind me asking miss.." He looked directly into her burning eyes.

"I know what I want.."

Long live rock and roll!

"But what exactly do you want?"

Click to shrink...

Amber Smith

Amber basked in the glory of the fire before her, taking in the beautiful colors of the flames, before turning to the dragon of fire.

"What is my wish? Well, I don't know what I will wish from the sword, but my wish? Well," and here she laughed. If at sounded a little maniacal it was probably just the wind. "I want to make the largest, most beautiful fire the world has ever seen! A work of art that will cause all others to pale in its splendor! And I need your help to do it, great Ancalagon!"

 

[TheFictionAddict]

"Hi," said Rahav, stepping out from behind a bookshelf, in all his sallow faced glory. "You called? Your pronounciation is utter arse, by the way."

Click to shrink...

"Hah!?", she turned around in shock, stumbling and falling onto the carpeted floor.


She was in shock, w-who was this man?

Tim
--/--
I looked her dead in the eyes. "No.

"Not dealing with this today," I continued, turning around and walking out the alleyway. "Not dealing with this ever."

Click to shrink...

The lady looked around the alley, seeing the beaten and hurt men around her, before looking at Tim's retreating back, face somehow becoming sterner than before, soon going after Tim.

" Why did you harm those men, boy?", she asked her tone clearly asking for no nonsense.

 

[Laplace]

"Hah!?", she turned around in shock, stumbling and falling onto the carpeted floor.

She was in shock, w-who was this man?

Click to shrink...

"Oh. Damn," he said. "Yet another one of my summoners is a teething brat, stumbling into our little game." His face creased in dissatisfaction. "Fucking lovely, Why can't I have someone like Zheng He again?" He grabbed her hand. "See this? See my crest. That means you have the honor of summoning the World Serpent, and a list of other titles that I frankly can't be arsed to remember." He let go, looking around. "Where are we?

The lady looked around the alley, seeing the beaten and hurt men around her, before looking at Tim's retreating back, face somehow becoming sterner than before, soon going after Tim.

" Why did you harm those men, boy?", she asked her tone clearly asking for no nonsense.

Click to shrink...

Timothy Feng
---/---
"Self defense," I said, hurrying my stride. "Saw then in the alley, they saw me and the pulled knives. Textbook self defense."

 

[munchkinomatic]

Izumi Nori

--------------------------

Izumi silently adjusted her glasses as she went over the design of her summoning circle. Everything was perfect, of course, but it didn't hurt to check one last time. Her clan, God rest their misguided souls, has been performing this ritual for thousands of years now, always contracting the great dragon Yggdrasil in the Dragon War. It was supposed to be her turn this time, was it not for the...disagreement. The honor now went for her cousin.

Hah, as if she would just sit by and watch. She will snatch the honor from them, win the war, achieve perfect understanding and control over all things living, and finally fix the mess that humanity had made of the world.

The Runic Circle of Life and Nature, a chant in Dragon Tongue, a Tribute of countless flowers, and the Izumi felt the magic around her came to life.

Yggdrasil was coming.

@Theaxofwar

Sabrina Prya

After weeks of practice and preparations, The young girl felt a sea of emotion overwhelm her as she began gathering all the materials she needed to summon the all powerful Dragon of light. Sabrina was begining to wonder if she had picked the right dragon to help her, surely another one would have been a better choice. The Dragon of Nature? No, she had allergies and didn't want them to interfere with the ritual. What about Fire? Not possible, What could she possibly burn without causing problems? What about the Dragon of Darkness? Definitely not, she didn't have the heart to take a life... be it A human or an animal. It Had to be the Dragon of light, she didn't have the resources for anything else. It broke her heart just to think about having to give away the locket her mother gave to her, but if it meant for a chance for see her again... then so be it.

Sabrina hopped aboard the next train to the city limits, where she had found a forest secluded from prying eyes from seeing her preform the summoning. She Drew the magic circle, and placed her locket in a box int the center of the circle. Sabrina started to cry a little, but shortly came to her senses and made the finishing touches to the magic circle and started to cite the incantation.

"Dovah do Kun, Hon Zey! Zu'u Ofan hi daar ofanaat wah stin hi nol hin laag! Vopraan ahrk aav dii reid dovah kein!"

Click to shrink...

With each word, the summoning circle glowed brighter and brighter. The light was harsh and blinding, as if the sun had supplanted the ritual. For a brief second, time seemed to be frozen in awe of the radiant power.

Suddenly, a beam of light split the heaven, painting the world white with its splendor. Something roared, the sound was that of war and triumph, the desperate cries of sinners and the victorious cheers of the just.

Seconds passed, and the blinding light started to deem, yet the sheer radiance power persisted. The moment the world was not a blinding white, Sabrina came face to face with a literal mountain of gleaming white scales that stretched into the sky. Two golden orbs bore down on her, each large enough to be a stadium of its own.

Solaris the Lightbringer had answered her call in his full godly splendor. The winged serpent's form was massive beyond all words, just the head that was facing down on Sabrina was dwarfed the forest she was in, and his body filled the sky behind him; a cooling, twisting mass of white, dotted by the occasional feathered wings, filled out the very sky for miles on miles.

The Lightbringer's gaze bore down upon his summoner. Judging, disecting.

"Mortal, is it you that wish to win the Dragon War?"