The midlander had finally forced himself to sleep. Taking up the lance was has the man needed to finally tire himself out. Asmodean toss and turned a bit as he sat against the Lifemend Stump. The training lance was bloody and a few yalms from his reach. Thick bags formed under his eyes, clearly showing he had not gotten a wink of sleep in a number of suns. A few mumbles escaped his mouth but never too loudly.
His resting mind was far more chaotic then the peaceful forest he currently slept. Snow, blood and plums of smoke filing the sky. Asmodean looked about himself, wondering how he was arrived in Coerthas, let alone deep down in the witch drop. He wearing his heavy fighter armor and even had his trusty Eisentaenzer. None of this made any sense to the mindlander. However, as the smell of smoke and iron slowly came to his nose, it began to matter less as to him something was worse then his confusion. The man made for the trail leading back up to Dragonhead, only to be greeted by the sight of the once mighty stronghold in ruins.Â
He entered the camp quickly only to find bodies strewn about the grounds, many bearing signs of claws marks or slashing marks.
"There... there is no way dragons could do this and escape without so much as not losing one of their number." He said to himself looking about. No bodies of any kind of dragon kin wore viable but scales littered the ground. He made his way towards the keep but already knew it to be too late. Thick bellows of blackened smoke flowed out the broken remains of the wooden door. Asmodean shook his head before turning to look up at the Aetheryte, his gaze moving from the crystal to the battlement of the high walls. More bodies and blood, not a single sign of life.
The midlander started to check the bodies for a plush but as he wandered from one to the next, his only reward was to bloody his armor. Asmodean sighed, never thinking he might see Dragonhead in such a state. But not all seemed lost as he noticed a set of tracks leading to Whitebrim. The warrior seeing nothing he could do here set out to find whoever made that tracks, but paused only just outside of walls of Dragonhead. more then two dozen corpse of dragons lay, craved to pieces by blade and not fell by lance.
THe way the remains lay made it seem they wore running or trying to get away. Asmodean began to wonder.
What wore the running from?
((OOC: I'm still quite rusty as a writer so any pointers to help better myself are more then welcome, be it pm or post here. This is going to a two part story for my character as a way to lead him to Ishgard after the last two event he has been a part of. Had this already typed out so I figure let some people read it can tell me where I can improve before writing the rest after I return from work.))
His resting mind was far more chaotic then the peaceful forest he currently slept. Snow, blood and plums of smoke filing the sky. Asmodean looked about himself, wondering how he was arrived in Coerthas, let alone deep down in the witch drop. He wearing his heavy fighter armor and even had his trusty Eisentaenzer. None of this made any sense to the mindlander. However, as the smell of smoke and iron slowly came to his nose, it began to matter less as to him something was worse then his confusion. The man made for the trail leading back up to Dragonhead, only to be greeted by the sight of the once mighty stronghold in ruins.Â
He entered the camp quickly only to find bodies strewn about the grounds, many bearing signs of claws marks or slashing marks.
"There... there is no way dragons could do this and escape without so much as not losing one of their number." He said to himself looking about. No bodies of any kind of dragon kin wore viable but scales littered the ground. He made his way towards the keep but already knew it to be too late. Thick bellows of blackened smoke flowed out the broken remains of the wooden door. Asmodean shook his head before turning to look up at the Aetheryte, his gaze moving from the crystal to the battlement of the high walls. More bodies and blood, not a single sign of life.
The midlander started to check the bodies for a plush but as he wandered from one to the next, his only reward was to bloody his armor. Asmodean sighed, never thinking he might see Dragonhead in such a state. But not all seemed lost as he noticed a set of tracks leading to Whitebrim. The warrior seeing nothing he could do here set out to find whoever made that tracks, but paused only just outside of walls of Dragonhead. more then two dozen corpse of dragons lay, craved to pieces by blade and not fell by lance.
THe way the remains lay made it seem they wore running or trying to get away. Asmodean began to wonder.
What wore the running from?
((OOC: I'm still quite rusty as a writer so any pointers to help better myself are more then welcome, be it pm or post here. This is going to a two part story for my character as a way to lead him to Ishgard after the last two event he has been a part of. Had this already typed out so I figure let some people read it can tell me where I can improve before writing the rest after I return from work.))
