The Saga of N’Veryll.   Posted by Narrator.Group: 0
 GM, 281 posts
Sat 16 Apr 2016
at 12:27
The Saga of N’Veryll.
Images cascade across the mind picking up in intensity as if there is just too much to remember. Diluted magic dances like a  weight that presses against the senses. It can be felt flowing over fresh wet scale.  The winds of magic behaving more like a force of ever shifting weather that sickens with each passing moment. There are eddies and flows but they feel weak as if choked.

Dragon Lives that have already been lived, roll in jumbled pictures. Those dragons take flight and fight in aerial spaces, with tooth and claw. Different gouts of hot or misty breath mingle in a multitude of colors. In that moment is an understanding of how to fight and breathe death. Inner organs twitch as if in readiness. Claws lightly scrape against the surface of something hard but breakable.

Visions collide into splintered memories of fabled treasures touched by dead Gods. Which now lay buried amidst ancient ruins of forgotten and fallen kingdoms. The signs of past glory captured in faded stone relief. These lost kingdoms speak of an inevitability that nothing is permanent. In that moment there is an understanding of mortality and the need for survival. Even Dragons can die.

The dreams of glory, dominion and devastation begin to fade. But the envisioned sights of hoards yet to be had remain. Some deep want stirs and the self begins to emerge. It starts with a name, then an awareness of a body curled up floating in warmth sealed within a shell.

That warmth is soon lost to a terrible chill that eats at the marrow and hollows out the insides. Death energy pours into the spaces and makes its home there. There is a feeling of something being lost, taken without choice. There is a bad feeling that can only be likened to a sense of slow suffocation and the creep of weakness that gnaws at the very soul.

Sometimes though there are whispered words that provoke the mind to think on dark rites of magic. The mind swims to those places and N’Veryll would become aware that he was speaking, dredging memories that were not his own and sharing them with another. How did not matter. Warmth and relief was the reward for a memory told.

Then at some point lost in the haze the shell of the egg just fell away as if dead and useless.

A vast cavern came into view. Torches flickered along the walls but the flames were blue and cold. The area was steeped in a chill that touched everything. It sapped and drained and took away.

The smells also were bad, it all reeked of death and something chemical. It would become clear why. An area of the cavern was set aside and looked like it functioned as a cross between a mortuary and laboratory. Odd devices sat atop tables dripping some viscous liquid into complex glass shapes. A fresh human corpse lay stretched on one of the slabs and it appeared as though someone had been working on it, as various tools were set aside dusted with blood.

What could be seen was that one area was home to a study and library made up of book cases. There were books visible made of stitched skin or darkly bound that oozed a kind of seeping oil that stank of concentrated death and horror. Some books were chained to the case and seemed to twitch as if annoyed at being held captive.

Beyond the library were a set of stone steps that led upwards to somewhere. There was also a large cavern tunnel that was left dark. Something was there covered over by a large piece of fraying black cloth. Just beyond the desk and chair was a mirror but it created no reflection as if it reflected only emptiness. There was also a peculiar circle of red lines.

N’veryll himself was bound by nothing, seemingly given free reign to move. But there were etchings and lines scored into the cavern floor that glowed a dull red. They created a lengthy roughly rectangular enclosure. Some intuitive sense told N’veryll he could not cross those lines. There was also a pile of meat of unknown origin and a wooden trough filled with clear water. All seemingly set aside for him.

 player, 6 posts
Sun 17 Apr 2016
at 04:10
The Saga of N’Veryll.
N'Veryll open's his eye for what seems like the first time, visions blur as he tries to focus, his brain spins out of control as he tries to comprehend with what he is sensing.
A memory sparks the feeling of flight runs though his body before it is removed with another, this time an urge to roar proud and with meaning is felt from within before this itself is replaced with another and then another and another.

N'Veryll feels the urge to cry out in pain from these memories of another age of another kin are these to be what he must strive to be? He is unsure, unsure on what it means at that point the young dragon finds himself drawn back into this cave with the red lines that give of a sense of uncertainty.

The smell of meat stuffs his nose as he stares at it in hunger and curiosity at that point a new smell enters his nostrils the smell of death it was so familiar as if this wasn't the first time smelling it, His mind once again ached at the words that are whispered he tries to remember them with no avail, The empty feeling of having something missing feels wrong and with that a lonely feeling creeps upon him as the crawls back to what was once his shell he wraps his tail around his body holding tightly and laying close, trying all in his ability to comfort himself though this time of confusion closing his eyes he tries to sleep but is kept awake by the questions that haunt his mind.

Scared confused and alone N'Veryll hopes for answers but sadly none arrive in his mind.
A noise emits from inside as he feels hunger start to take over the young dragon finds himself staring at the pile of meat that has been left out, N'Veryll moves slowly towards the meat once again and this time reaching it he stares at the pile as this mouth begins to open, The next few moments N'Veryll eats the meat filling his hunger before walking towards the water and beginning to drink from the trough he drinks to his fill before heading towards the outer limits of the lines, He lays beside them watching carefully making sure not to touch it, he scrutinizes the line carefully following it around its set perimeters searching for any gap or hole in the line he might be able to work on.

A shaking sound interrupts his search as his focus is moved towards a shelf with multiple books that have chains of their own, are they also fighting to be free and get out he wondered to himself.

A continuing set of noises pluck at his ears as he looks to each separate book, one give's of a foul Oder like a warning to stay clear as it shakes, another just emits black tar substance that bubbles and pops but never seems to leave the book itself others just moan and whisper as if whispering to N'Veryll himself, N'Veryll moves his sight away from the library and now with a little more caution begins to continue his search around the room, the next sight he see's is a human corpse laying over a slab they lay still and cold with patches of blood soaked into their clothes, trinkets are left beside them.

"Who was this person" N'Veryll thinks to himself, "better yet who brought them here" he thought as he was once again left to ponder with no questions in sight.

This message was last edited by the player at 04:29, Sun 17 Apr 2016.

 GM, 284 posts
Sun 17 Apr 2016
at 10:56
The Saga of N’Veryll.
There was a sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, they were slow and light. A figure emerged dressed in a crimson colored robe. The man looked old and grey with a withered look about him. He had a wispy white beard and sunken eyes that seemed hollow and dark. His expression was one of stoicism with deep furrows across the brow.

He spoke with a cracked low voice, “Ah, good, you are born at last.”

For some reason N’Veryll could understand clearly what was being said. The man slowly walked taking his time to approach. He looked about him as if seeing everything was in its proper place. He stopped by one of the experiments adjusting some kind of handle. The result was a brown mixture began to froth.

“Mmm,” he mumbled.

He continued his steady walk, glancing at objects as he went. When he came to the corpse he did not even look at it but he did  lightly run his fingers across the tools as he passed. He then drifted slowly over to the desk and chair. He moaned a little as he sat down. Then he plucked a quill pen and unfurled some parchment.

“Hello N’Veryll. I hope I pronounced that right.” He smiled lightly. “ How are we feeling?” The quill pen seemed to hover over the parchment.
 player, 7 posts
Mon 18 Apr 2016
at 04:24
The Saga of N’Veryll.
N'Veryll grounded himself as he watched towards the stairway, His eyes glisten in the fiery light of the torches that illuminate the room, he looks fixedly on this man draped in robes as he moves deeper into the room.

“Ah, good, you are born at last.” He says before continuing to walk deeper into the room seemingly looking at his trinkets.

N'Veryll stays silent not saying a word even if his mind screams for answers, He takes a step back and continues to watch the old man as he stops by a different trinket and turns a part making it,brown ooze seeps from what would be its mouth as he nods accordingly.

“Mmm,” the man mumbles as N'Verylls ears twitch as he hears the sound from the old man, N'Veryll without hesitation copy's the sound heard "Mmmmm" he hums to himself before going quiet and staring once again at robed man.

The man lightly runs him fingers across the corpse that laid upon the slab before slowly sitting down in his chair, N'Veryll watched carefully as the man next plucked a feather from the desk a chill runs down his spine at what is said next.

“Hello N’Veryll." The man said as his eyes connected with mine, My mind was filled with questions that blurred out the rest of his sentence as i watched his lips continue to move before they rise into some new state making them reach higher upon his face, I concentrate hard trying to focus on this man on what he is saying, sounds then reconnect within my ears as i hear him ask “ How are we feeling?”.

N'Veryll's mouth opened slowly as he uttered "I am confused."

This message was last edited by the player at 09:44, Mon 18 Apr 2016.

 GM, 292 posts
Mon 18 Apr 2016
at 18:22
The Saga of N’Veryll.
“Of course you are, you are newly born." The man nodded as if to himself. Then started to write for a moment. “You must have questions, I will do my best to answer, but I am not so certain you will like the answers, but I can promise you I will at least be honest.” He simply waited allowing the dragon time to think on what to maybe ask.
 player, 9 posts
Mon 18 Apr 2016
at 22:54
The Saga of N’Veryll.
N'Veryll finished his sentence as his mind quickly begins to plead for help, He looks upon he man longing for a response.

“Of course you are, you are newly born." He speaks moving his head slightly to a rise before bringing it down back to its original position.

The young dragon stares as if hoping for more from this person who seemingly holds a lot of knowledge or at least more then N'Veryll has at this time.

“You must have questions, I will do my best to answer, but I am not so certain you will like the answers, but I can promise you I will at least be honest.” Once again the man speaks this time placing my mind at ease with offering to answer these questions that are filling my mind, But that part he said ("But i am not certain you will like the answers") whys does that give me a chill a slight fear of asking my mind once again fills with questions of what that could mean, Should he ask what it means? Why wouldn't he like the answers? Where am I? Who am I? many more thoughts bubble in his mind a stress showing on his face torn now between a wanting to know and a fear of knowing.
N'Veryll tries to calm his mind,focusing on a few questions and without hesitating asks them.

"Who are you?" He asks first before continuing "Where are we?" "And how do you seemingly know so much about me?" N'Veryll goes quiet allowing the old one to answer these questions that have been a torment on his mind for as long as he has awoken.
 GM, 294 posts
Tue 19 Apr 2016
at 05:58
The Saga of N’Veryll.
The old man positioned himself more comfortably on the wooden chair and settled the quill pen in a pot, then leaned forward a little. Dull brown eyes seemed to take in the sight of the dragon there was no warmth there. More the eyes of someone taking in a prize as their mind churned with the possibilities.

 “My name is Vedric. You may call me as such.” There was a weak smile as he introduced himself.

“You are in Shrewberry, I am doubtful you have heard of it. It is an unassuming Town, I guess. It exists within the Toldon Province, an empire of petty feuding lords and serfs who can barely read. Home mostly to weak imbeciles that prostrate themselves before childish whims of nobles and the equally fickle gods.” Vedric entered into a fit of coughing as if annoyance spilled over into a raspy fit.

“All you need know is this cave for now is your home.” He nodded as if that was the end of the discussion.

“I know so much about you, because we have spoken at length already. These are good questions, you have an inquisitive mind, but then I would expect no less from a dragon.”