Few know of Lamia, and, therefore, many, at this point, may be left bewildered and in the dark. Fear not, for I, your narrator, shall explain all, in time. Perhaps, I shall even step forward and reveal myself, in time. For now, however, I must begin a new chapter in this tale which will, eventually, lead to the revelations of Lamia and the dark forces that wait in the wings of the Kingdom's future. Before illuminating the future, though, I must enlighten you with the past.
~~~~~~~~~
Dravis drove his steed mercilessly through the night.
His stallion showed no weariness and carried his master with unearthly speed.
The world sped by.
Dravis had journeyed endlessly in the decade after Visk's death, searching his own soul for what answers may be found. He had traversed the N'wahnt moors and battled through the darkened swamps that lay beyond. The Wastelands of Prothecus had given way to the Dwarves' Villhallen Ranges, mountains that were said to be visible from around the world. Few of the Kingdom's humans had ventured this far, and even fewer had returned to weave tales of the riches that lay wait in the labyrinthine tunnels that riddled the mountainsides. It was there that Dravis sought his answers, it was there that he met the dragon Hisk'enatle (Serpentine for The Master).
Many legends have been written about The Master, but few have been foolhardy enough to seek the origin of these myths. Every fable of The Great Beast says his home is somewhere distant, somewhere different. How Dravis came to learn of The Master's true location is a mystery that only he may tell. The Master knew of Dravis' approach and met him at the entrance to his mystical cathedral. It was, indeed, a magnificent creature, dwarfing Dravis, and his mount. Few would have the fortitude to stand before this legendary dragon. His wings spread out above Dravis, enclosing him, obfuscating all that lay beneath them. His blackened scales, each the size of a man's skull, thickly adorned his hide, leaving no room for spear or sword or axe to release the fluids within. His eyes burned with hellfire tempered only by the frore of Dravis' own eyes.
"Ahhhh, finally, a mortal of power findsss my home. Why have you sssought me, mortal?"
Dravis dismounted, and bowed in the presence of The Great Beast. He spat his requests quickly.
"My master, I have come seeking power, seeking vengence, seeking that which eludes me."
"You know not what you asssk Dravissss of Gill-thaen."
"I claim not to know the answers, merely the questions. I was told you, The Great Beast Hisk'enatle, may provide me with the answers."
"I do, indeed, know what you ssseek, and know of where you may find your ansssswersss. And yet. . . What is it that I shall gain from thisssss parley?"
"Why, you thirst for knowledge, do you not Hisk'enatle?"
"I know all that I need."
"You thirst for blood?"
"I've ssspilt more than you could dream of Dravissss."
"Perhaps you seek chaos? Entertainment to wittle away the eternity in which you live?"
The Great Beast sighed, smoke clouding the air that lay swirling beneath his wings.
"Indeed, I have grown tired of time's weariless passing. Few have the ambition to embrace chaos."
The two sat in silence, appraising each other, communing in the ancient art of judgement.
"Very well Dravis. I ssshall humor you. Seek Lamia, she may have the answerssss you want. In the meantime, I shall watch, and provide guidancsse when it is needed. Be warned, you are a pawn, and a pawn that no longer serves a purpose is. . . -naturally- uselesssss."
"I shall carry your words in my heart Master."
The Great Beast thrashed his wings and then leapt into the sky, showing a grace that seemed unreal for something of his size. Dravis waited until Hisk'enatle had left, his own hair swept back from the gusts caused by the massive wing's downbeats. Upon The Master's departure, Dravis turned and began the ride home, back to the Kingdom, back to N'wahnt, back to Lamia's home.
And so, Dravis drove his steed mercilessly through the night.
His stallion showed no weariness and carried his master with unearthly speed.
The world sped by.
~The (THE) Cretin~
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Dravis drove his steed mercilessly through the night.
His stallion showed no weariness and carried his master with unearthly speed.
The world sped by.
The Kingdom was descending into darkness. A vast sky hovered over the farmlands, dotted with stars, and the moon was full, a foreboding sign. Dravis had rode for what felt like an eternity, from the Vilhallen ranges and back through the swamps. His ride had been uneventful, a blessing in this most cursed time. The Kingdom was in the grip of depravity and only those with a keen eye and sharpened senses would note the changes that had occured over the past decade. You see, when Heaven's Gate fell, so did the Kingdom's defenses against what lay in the moor. It was a darkened land, the moor, but those who were safe in the Kingdom saw no need to defend themselves, for they were in the womb of their Queen, who was now in the vice of madness. However, Dravis had no concern for this matter, he only sought Lamia and with her, power.
He rode on the road to Stilton. Dravis knew that every man who had a bone for traveling and an ear for gossip would pass through The Severed Crossing Inn and, thus, that was his destination. He approached the inn and tied his horse to a vacant hitching post. Entering the inn, he was immediately engulfed in loud, drunken banter. A small monkey was dancing on a stage to the left, while a band played an old folk song behind him. The bartender stood at the far end of the room, behind a massive oak bar. There was a door leading to another wing of the inn to the left of the bartender. A massive fire was kept burning on the right hand wall, and the smoke flowed freely into the room, adding to the atmosphere. Candles adorned the walls, haloed by smoke, and a modest chandalier provided light above the stage. There was a small crowd gathered to watch the festivities, and they were rewarding the dancing primate with peanuts. Dravis saw two men in the corner, a holy man approaching another with a clearly magickal aura. He focussed on them, and strode quickly towards them. Two men of magickal talent would, undoubtably, be able to, willingly or unwilling, aide Dravis in his quest. 'Ho, strangers, I seek. . . knowledge.'
~The (Wayward) Cretin~