Aeoryi

Tales of the King's Folly: Chapter 8

I, for the second time this day, am being stared at by a sea of eyes. It is a while before something moves. Whismald, The Ice-melter, finally declares an attack on me.

Instantly, bolts of ice and crystals fly at me. I duck, hiding behind a piece of debris.

I can hear Whismald's pale voice. He booms, "Find me the mortal! We shall deliver his head to the Efridit of the east, the Waterdrowned!"

I quickly run among the ruins. That proved to be a good choice, as a conducted barrage of frosted fury strikes true there, breaking the ice in a pink flash. 

As I stand knee-deep in the crystaline dust, I can feel another storm of icicles fly by, much closer to my actual location this time. 

I then have a great idea. I shout for my dragon. He isn't actually mine, he just obeys my commands as part of the deal. The dragon comes to me, trampling a few ice demons and shattering some of them. His natural defenses protect against the ice demons' wrath, and he easily towers over the ice demons. Whismald, surprisingly, grows to the size of a dragon and roars with a harrowing screech. 

I can clearly see the battlefield now. It is littered with some dark purples flames, most likely from the dragon's breath, that linger in the massive dunes of the former palace's dust. The purple doesn't seem to extinguish, which is quite unique for a flame. Quite powerful for a dragon of this size. 

The dragon that I used to get here roars. It then charges at Whismald, and attempts to shatter the icy foe with it's horns. The powerful frosty horror does a motion with his wrist, and then freezes the dragon. With another motion, he shatters the dragon, killing the beast. 

The dragon just exploded into small shards. the orange of the eldritch magic illuminates the inside of the explosion. Some strange glyphs break and the dragon explodes again in a burst of purple and teal, sending streaks of color down onto the crystaline surface. More of this black shadow-fire forms where the streaks of inky purple land, and the green streaks seem to be absorbed into the ground. What a strange blood to have inside of a dragon. 

The pieces of shell are scattered in the sand. I look up at the ice demon, and am surprised at what I see. 

There is a shadow of grevience in his eyes. Just a small reflection of pity. 

The ice demon conjours wings and flies north. 

I start processing this entire encounter. It seemed so strange.

the first thing I recall is the comment about the west and their mining islands. Why would the demon be so concerned about those? I then recall what made him so angry. He couldn't control Efridit's water. He had suggested to use a gathering place, to make him require more focus and make him struggle. I should start heading south.

The dragon shadow-flame sits on top of the crystal shards. I realize, when I pass them, that they aren't actually on top of the sand. They float, like an airborne flame, and seem strange and otherworldly. They suck at my soul, sapping my energy. They are pink around the everchanging edges, which move like liquid fire. It seems off, but it is the corpse of a mythical beast, so it would obviously be magical. I pass these bizare graves as I journey to the west.

It was the obvious choice to head west. The weather is kind enough to provide sun, taking pity on my situation. I start the slow but necessary trek to the west.

the west is filled with strange contraptions. Heretics to the king and minglers of politics make up the people of the west, and their strange materials make the place almost like another world. Legends have been told about them having light with no fire, and the ability to warp anywhere. They are lunatics.

The westeners are the only ones that can save me now.