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| Just a Bit Out of Place; {p} Ragnarok; pm for entry | |
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| Topic Started: Fri Aug 7, 2009 6:12 am (116 Views) | |
| Esah | Fri Aug 7, 2009 6:12 am Post #1 |
 
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Why did the people have to get lost here? The Frozen North would have been more preferrable, or maybe the mountains. Anywhere would have been better, actually, anywhere other than here. But no, the caravan had gotten lost in the desert and so that was where she had to be. It wasn't even noon yet and already the sun was baking, cooking the sand until it was blistering hot. The air was no better, it was thick with heat until it seemed more like a suffocating blanket rather than something necessary to sustain life. Had there been even one or two trees, the heat might not have been nearly as bad, the landscape not nearly as bleak but alas, it was only rolling hills of sand for miles and miles. And it was those treacherous hills that finally convinced Esah to change from her human form back into her natural one. "I give up," she mumbled to herself after she lost her balance and slipped back down one sandy slope for what seemed like the hundredth time. "This form is too weak to survive a trip through the desert.." As she spoke, magic welled up from the depths of her mind, a secret knowledge that whispered at another body and Esah reached for it, willing herself to shift forms. In a matter of moments, it was done. Where a thin, rather pale human woman had been, a much larger white dragon stood. She stretched slowly, getting adjusted to all of the different limbs and muscles and joints that came with this form before letting out a contented sigh. She'd stayed in her human form too long yet again but soon that was all forgotten as she raced across the sand dunes, her long legs eating the distance as she searched for the missing caravanners. A part of her wished that she could take to the skies to search, knowing that it would go all the faster but she pushed that thought away from her. Without her wings, flight would be impossible and her wings had been taken from her long ago. |
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| Ragnarok | Sat Dec 19, 2009 9:09 pm Post #2 |
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A figure ran silently, determined, through the desert, his breathing and the steady pitter-patter of his sandals in the warm sand keeping a steady rhythm, forcing the tiny swordsman along on his trail. That steady beating of his heart, breath, and feet kept him focused on his goal, and his mind far from the pain in his chest, the stitch in his sides, and the cramp in his stomach. They collectively kept him in a state where the discomfort of the beads of sweat pouring from his body did nothing to bother him, and his tired, aching legs continued to propel him, unceasing. Sure, the figure could have simply transformed, with little thought to the action, but he had reasons for what he was doing. Firstly, he was hunted, as a dragon, and although he could dispatch whatever was sent after him easily, being spotted as a dragon, or even transforming, was too risky. Marro had a reputation to uphold, a reputation that would be spotted beyond repair if he was revealed to be the infamous Ragnarok, scourge of the Great Istani Desert. So, he ran. He ran, and he ran, and if he was tired, he didn't care. He wouldn't sleep; he wouldn't rest. Not in the desert, not while the sun was up. He would run, and he would run. Trying to find something to distract himself from the journey, from the pain, from the exhaustion, Marro looked to the sky. It was nearly noon, and the sun beat down on his clothed back, through reflective white materials, burned his neck and his face, and filled his green eyes his dazzling spots when ever they drifted too close to the burning disc. As he was distracted by the sun, he failed to notice in the horizon, the massive figure that had appeared; a great, shining dragon in the distance, seeming to lack wings, and when Marro's eyes finally did make contact, he let out a gasp and stopped running altogether. Forgetting his great momentum, he stumbled forwards, suddenly collapsing in a heap in the sand. Unsure of his next actions, Marro propped himself up and the sand, and without transforming, let out a mighty draconic roar, abandoning formalities and amusing an alpha role over the desert. "Stranger, state your name and business!" |
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12:03 AM Feb 10
