faderift | that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar

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that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar

WHO: Dragon-slayers
WHAT: The three Inquisition teams face their dragony foes
WHEN: Guardian 28
WHERE: Emprise du Lion
NOTES: Violence, gore, etc. This log contains closed threads for the 12 characters who were assigned slots on the dragon-fighting quest. Each team has an info pack-type starter about its dragon below. From here it is up to you to coordinate OOCly and decide how you want things to go down, and to NPC the dragon as needed. It also has an open thread for post-dragon-slaying tavern boasting.

By the end of Guardian Judicael's Crossing is repaired, at least enough to send Inquisition agents across on foot. But there is another obstacle preventing them from reestablishing a link between Sahrnia and the outside world: three high dragons have taken up residence across the bridge in an area called the Pools of the Sun. Here, the only road out through the mountains winds between rocky hills, ruins, and statuary. The remains of three structures dominate the landscape, arenas commissioned by Orlesian nobility in ages past.

Each of the teams has been assigned a dragon, and given as much information about it as the Inquisition has been able to gather from a few cautious scouting missions. This consists of where it sleeps and its primary method of attack. Though Inquisition resources are not great, they have had mages working overtime preparing at least basic protections against the dragons' elemental magic. While not enough to prevent injury altogether, they do significantly increase chances of escaping without dire casualties. They have also been provided with a small stock of healing and lyrium potions.

The three teams have been chosen from among the most-suited of the volunteers, and are dispatched across the river together. They split off on arrival, each making their way to the dragon's location and, at a roughly simultaneous moment, beginning the attack.

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The Hivernal resides atop Etienne's Ring, a pair of two-story concentric circles of stone arches with stairs leading up to a round plain at the top. Packed dirt and a dusting of snow cover it, with rubble at some edges to remind visitors that it was once an arena. There is no audience to today's battle, though perhaps there should be. Just the team sent to dispatch the dragon and the beast itself. The Hivernal is mottled grey and white, thick stripes lining its craggy neck and limbs. For half of the ring's circumference there is a steep drop off the side down into the river canyon. The terrain provides no cover and very little in the way of high ground, just a few chunks of stone ten or fifteen feet high the only real vantage points. The stairs come right up to the surface, a nearly blind entrance that leaves heads exposed for a moment before the attack can begin on the dragon sat in the center of the space.

Though not the largest of Emprise du Lion's dragon residents, the Hivernal is more agile than her fellows. She prefers to remain on the ground for much of the fight, dealing damage through blasts of ice from her throat, a lashing tail, and stomping limbs. She will attempt to crush any who get to close, and at times springs across the battlefield in thundering hops to level her icy breath at a target. If troubled by ranged attacks she will sweep her wings so powerfully that the resulting wind scatters arrows and can sweep even a strong man off his feet and into her reach. On occasion when harassed she will take to the air if able, circling out of range before diving to blast ice at her attackers again.

The Inquisition has provided what magic they can spare to increase the party's resistance to magical cold, but the ice the Hivernal spits at them will still be enough to slow and injure anyone caught directly in its path. Its affinity for its wintery surroundings, however, mean that the beast is especially vulnerable to fire.

Edited 2016-02-06 08:31 (UTC)

Not far past Etienne's Ring is Judicael's, again two concentric circles of stone arches, a path between them leading to stairs that take one to a ring of packed dirt and snow. Parts of the third level remain here, several chunks of arch atop the outer ring. The ground heaves up at the sides, not high enough to provide any real advantage or any cover, but perhaps high enough for the nimble and enterprising to climb the taller section of wall, two layers of arches stacked atop each other propped up by statues of a bearded hero carrying a barrell.

The Kaltenzahn is a striking foe (no pun intended), streaks of vivid red and blue marking its hide. It bellows and grunts as it fights, and occasionally lets out a piercing shriek sharp enough to stop a warrior in her tracks to cover her ears. It breathes ice instead of fire, spitting bursts of freezing mist cold enough to slow and injure anyone caught directly in their path despite the Inquisition providing what magic they can spare to increase the party's resistance to magical cold. They also freeze the ground, which has turned marshy in the centuries since the rings were last used. Water covers much of it, only shin-deep but treacherous when it suddenly freezes beneath-- or around-- one's feet. Its affinity for its wintery surroundings, however, mean that the beast is especially vulnerable to fire.

Like the Hivernal, the Kaltenzahn prefers to fight from the ground more than the air. Stomping, lashing its tail, and toppling enemies with the powerful wind generated by flaps of its broad wings are its primary attacks. If allowed to take flight it will circle, blasting its foes with ice from the air before landing heavily enough to shake the ground and knock the unwary (or frozen) onto their asses.

Edited 2016-02-06 08:30 (UTC)

Towering over everything else on this side of Judicael's Crossing, Leontine's Ring stands four stories high and its floor drops several stories more into the mountainside. At the base of this rock-ringed pit sleeps the Highland Ravager, dull in color but marked by massive curving horns jutting out from each side of its head. Its snores can be heard echoing even before the team finds the entrance, a rough tunnel through the stone foundations, marked by the savaged corpses of the dragon's prey. Its lair is a rough circle, enclosed on all sides by high walls of stone and then the four tiers of Orlesian arches. It provides no cover, no high ground, and only the one avenue for entry or escape.

When woken, the Ravager will prove itself a formidable foe. Despite the relatively small space in its lair it is quick on its feet, turning and jumping and thrashing at those about it with a whip-like tail. It is an arrogant beast, confident of its ability to fight off aggressors and so remaining on the ground, leaping and spinning to dodge and attack, dealing additional damage by drawing enemies in with powerful flaps of its leathery wings and rearing onto its hind legs, landing hard enough to shake the ground and crush anyone slow enough to be caught beneath its feet. Only in the last moments is it likely to take flight, if at all.

Unlike the other two dragons in the region the Highland Ravager breathes fire instead of ice, the blasts of flame turning its throat to a glowing orange furnace just before it unleashes them at an enemy. It can spit fireballs at enemies across some distance, or bellow a consistent blast of flame that will burn anyone caught near enough even with the fire-resistant materials and magics the Inquisition has scrounged up for the team. Its mastery of fire means that the beast is vulnerable to cold magic.

Dragonlings reside nearby and will come to the Highland Ravager's aid, distracting party members with smaller fireballs and viciously sharp teeth. Roughly the size of a deer, they are easier to dispatch than the Ravager, but can do significant damage if ignored.

Edited 2016-02-06 08:30 (UTC)

Because how better to wash off the blood and patch up your wounds than with liquor and endless retellings of your glorious new stories?

Well, this is it. A chance to repay those dragons for what happened to their camp earlier, and a chance to see how well Korrin's Knight-Enchanter training holds up against a high dragon. This is certainly a worthy test of her new skills, and the Vashoth mage is eager to begin. Having taken her share of cold resistance tonics earlier, Korrin downs one now, then casts Barrier to encompass everyone nearby. As the only mage among them, she knows it'll be her duty to keep that up as much as possible.

But she's here as part of the offense, not about to just hang back. Taking advantage of its vulnerability to fire, Korrin summons a gylph to trigger an explosion underneath the beast. Hopefully the flames will be distraction enough so that she can close in with her spirit blade, assisting Cassandra on the front lines.

Since arriving in the Emprise he's watched the dragons as they circled, walking along the repaired Judicael's Crossing to gaze up at them. Reavers drink their blood, Reavers like Asher, and after the attack on the camp he's wanted nothing more than to bury the head of it in the neck of at least one. Now he has his chance.

Cold bothers him little, when his armour is thick fur over heavy chainmail.

When he gives in to the blood frenzy that comes of being a Reaver he feels little else, and he lets out a roar, circling wide as he moves in to give the dragon a big target to draw what attention he can. Pain makes him fight better, if the beast gets some hits in as the others get a chance to attack, then he'll welcome it with a laugh.

She'd crossed paths with all manner of dangerous beasts. Bears and leopards and wolves and razorbacks; never because she'd wanted to, but out of necessity. For food and fur, because they were too dangerous to simply pass by.

Lara had no wish to kill these creatures either, but she could, again, recognize the necessity. And the Inquisition was helping her; she would help them.

Plus, they were dragons. Honest to God dragons. If even without a better reason, she wasn't entirely certain she'd have been able to pass up the chance to see them.

The man charged ahead, and she circled in the opposite direction, boots confident despite the rough and loose stone of the ring, drawing and knocking an arrow as she ran. As she tried to prepare....

There was no preparing. The beast landed, the ground shuddered and for a moment all she could do was stare. The word impossible echoing through her mind even as all of her senses screamed otherwise. Then the dragon was screaming and it's throat began to glow an icy white and instinct and preservation took over.

Move, Lara!

She loosed the first arrow and took off at a run again, looking for a new angle.

Dragons. This is the ultimate battle for a dragoon, what he was made for. The moment he'd come here during that earlier mission and seen then from afar, Kain had wanted to return and face them. He'd been so eager for it that he'd almost broken off from the party a couple of times now, believing this to be his real calling here, the reason he'd been brought to this world.

He's fought dragons before back home, fortunately, so he's got... at least some idea of what to expect. Though there are differences, of course, no two are alike, and he sees that right away as he approaches this one. He'd best not drop his guard.

Kain's strategy is of course, to come in from above. The others charging in gives him plenty of opportunity to jump in the meantime. His jump takes him far above for a moment, high into the air. As he swiftly descends, he strikes toward the dragon's hide with his lance, leaping aside to land afterward... and ready himself for the next attack.

About damn time.

The creature is as monstrous as it is beautiful, savage and glorious. He always feels something in his blood stirring whenever he encounters a dragon...though that's not to say he isn't absolutely willing to kill the thing stone dead.

Order out of chaos. That's the way the world works. Sometimes it's just a little more fun than others.

Lingering just out of sight, Bull glances back to the rest of the team. His fingers tap eagerly against the leather wrappings of his axe. "We got a plan? Quarters are going to be pretty close in there."

Korrin's not the only one seeking to repay the dragons for what they've done. Even before being drafted to help write the letters for the families of the soldiers who'd been taken he's been wanting to put paid to those beasties once and for all. Writing the letters just makes him that much more determined, and he jumps at the chance to be part of the group to help take one down.

After downing his own tonic and sticking close enough to let the barrier settle over him, he ranges further back so he can bring the bow he's been given into play and help to strafe the dragon from range. His sword is nearby though, sheathed but ready to be drawn at a moment's notice whenever the call comes for extra steel. For now, though, he concentrates on moving and firing, dodging when need be to avoid the bursts of freezing mist the dragon is sending out. It's not at all hard to see what happens when it hits the ground, and he doesn't much fancy the notion of finding out what happens if he gets caught by that icy breath instead.

Dragons are not something a man encounters, in Eosia -

- but Martel has never met a fight he didn't want to finish. He'd prepared before they set out, the heat of his bespelled armor against him, the extra strength in his body, the nearly-manic edge of it that he knows full well means he'll be paying for this in spades later. His sword doesn't flame, but the spell had lit the blade itself white-hot; it'll be melted wreckage by tomorrow, but for as long as he needs it to last now ...

Or he might die trying. He thinks he might in the instant that he rolls with an unexpected backwards step, slams his sword up and into the underside of its massive, sharp-taloned paw - he's still pulling it out when he rolls onto his knees to wrench himself back to his feet and scramble away from, if not certain, then at least relatively likely death.

If he dies today, he doesn't die negligently, not even acknowledged by the fucking beast.

Cassandra doesn't need a reason to fight dragons.

She waits just long enough for Korrin to cast her spell, and then she's moving, running straight for the dragon with her sword ready and her shield high. The explosion triggers just as she gets there, and she ducks behind her shield, protecting herself from both the flames and the dragon's freezing breath for half a second before she charges forward with a cry, seeking a vulnerable place to attack.

It's sleeping.

Merrill almost feels bad, for preparing to charge in and attack a sleeping dragon -- but it is a dragon. She didn't get a good enough look to tell if this was one of the two that attacked the camp, but she knows that, if given half a chance, it would do so again and again. She knows that the civilians of the area cannot stand up to a high dragon, let alone three; Kirkwall itself was lucky that the dragon in the Bone Pit had not ventured further.

Ir abelas, she thinks, even as she knows it has to be done.

Out of the four of them, she only recognizes Lexa, but that doesn't matter. The qunari is- extremely large, but seems more friendly than those she'd encountered in Kirkwall, and at least isn't the first qunari she's met since joining the Inquisition. He's also the one that speaks first, and Merrill lightly taps on her staff for a moment, thinking.

"I can enchant your weapons, give them a bit of a boost, and use magic for walls and barriers. Otherwise... I can cast a spell on it while it's sleeping that will hopefully help confuse it when it wakes up." Horror and Despair, and Merrill is specifically leaving out that she will really be effecting the mind of the dragon, making it see things that aren't there and attacking its mind directly. The Entropy school isn't necessarily blood magic, but it still can make people nervous.

Rolling let him clear the worst of the blast, knocking him back a few feet with ice creeping up his right leg. Even through the armour it hurts, but he gets moving before she has another chance to hit him while he's down, moving for one of the back legs.

"Mind her tail!" He bellows, in the event that someone might decide to go behind her to avoid her breath and teeth; one hit with that tail might send them right off the ring if they're too close to the edge, and a fall like that won't end well for any of them.

With his axe outstretched he spins, closer and closer to land heavy blows against the ankle until she raises the leg to swipe at him and anyone that might happen to be behind, shrieking her fury.

The knowledge of what they were doing lingered - a dragon, shit, a real dragon - but it was only a whisper then, self-preservation taking over all forethought.

She heard the shout, the warning, just as the tail began to swing her way, and she tucked, rolled, and tumbled out of the way. Dirt and rock scrapped against her armor, dug into bar palms as she righted herself, but she paid them even less mind.

She came up ready, drawing her bowstring in a fluid motion, releasing an arrow into the great claw that was coming down on Asher, hoping it would take something soft(er) and painful and give him time to get out of the way.

There was a new cut on her cheek, and her knuckles were raw, her palms scratched. There was blood on her armor. But she was alive, and her mind was still racing. With lingering adrenaline, with the wonder of what she'd just done.

She'd fought a dragon.

She had won.

A part of her was sad - guilty, that it had come to that. That something that... miraculous was now gone, but she recognized what it had to be done, and that this wasn't her world, they weren't her rules. (And even in her world, there were times difficult choices needed to be made.) And she couldn't deny that it was exhilarating.

And fascinating.

Sitting by the fire, light playing across her strange armor, she turned a piece of the beast's skin over in her hands. A small cutting, but whole and real. Tangible proof.

She smiled.

"Have a round on me, everyone!"

This tavern still doesn't match up to the Herald's Rest, under normal circumstances, but right now it's Korrin's favorite place. Not having entered it more than a handful of times since arriving, the Vashoth mage claims a table and doesn't intend to leave it for some time. Celebrations deserve nothing less, after all, and she'd earned this one.

Korrin's stark white hair is a mess, long since freed from its bun, patches of blood -not hers- on her armor, and her cheeks still bright from the unholy cold that high dragon kept spewing. It's all worth it, though. That's the second high dragon she was able to help take down with a group, and it was just as epic and glorious as the first time.

So Korrin will make sure her teammates are properly spoiled as they recount their favorite parts of the battle. And of course she'll want to hear about the other dragon battles, so if you participated at all, expect the grinning Vashoth mage to wave you down and demand details. This is the night for it, don't hold back.

Well, the dragon sure does fight... like a dragon, which is strangely comforting for Kain. So they really aren't a whole lot different here, after all. Unfortunately, that also means it's still a huge challenge ahead.

At least Asher's warning comes at the right time. Kain takes to the air just as that tail swings wildly, soaring far above and out of range of that attack. So far so good, the beast is sticking to the ground... that could change at any moment though.

Down he soars, this time into a move he calls the sky rave, positioning himself in the air so he's stabbing straight downward, spinning as he comes down. It's another hit. No chance to celebrate though, as the dragon roars, then sends forth another bitter cold blast of its ice breath. Kain grimaces when he takes a hit from that, his right arm especially, but he'll deal, even if it's as freezing as the worst blizzaga.

For once, Merrick is glad he's so small. He moves swiftly around the dragon, using the ice to propel himself as he slashes at the creature's legs, and can easily evade its gaze. There is the unfortunate chance that he might get stepped on, but that doesn't even occur to him. He's having the time of his life.

He leaps back to avoid the blast, then grabs a tonic from his belt--he tugs the cork free with his teeth and swallows the flask's contents before chucking it aside. Then he's grinning, sharp incisors glinting like the ice around them as he watches the monster burn.

Then it's back into the fray. He's learned the beast's attack pattern by now, but it's not set in stone-- So when the dragon's tail sweeps toward Korrin, he's startled.

"Korrin, watch out!" he yells.

Korrin is likewise giving in to enthusiasm, not having felt this rush since the last time she'd fought a high dragon. That was years ago, with far more people and a weaker beast. This creature would provide a stronger challenge, and she's going to enjoy every moment of it. Her glowing spirit blade is swung vigorously, and she grins every moment it strikes, claiming more of the dragon's defenses.

That icy blast has Korrin grateful that her protections are in place, though having it land as close as it does is still unpleasant. The chill sets into her bones, not causing the harm that it could have but slowing her movements at a time where every moment counts. Hearing Merrick, her eyes widen as she spares a glance in time to see that tail rushing towards her. Only a use of Fade Step, causing her to swiftly blur away, saves the Vashoth mage from being flung across the battlefield or worse, off it.

The boy - a man, barely - in the air is almost more disconcerting than the dragon. Almost; he doesn't allow himself the luxury of being goggle-eyed at his own allies when there's a dirty great dragon prepared to send them all to whatever gods will take them, launching instead with sword ready and the bloody-minded intent of tearing apart tendons and ligaments of the hind leg, following the start Asher's made, expertly slotting himself into the space left by the other man and the dragon's blind spots.

'Expert ease' is the phrase they usually use, but Martel would describe none of this as easy.

It really is quite a feat, battling a dragon and taking it down. Kain, for all his enthusiasm over fighting them, also finds himself pretty well worn out afterward. He’s not in the best of shape, but if he can walk and stay upright, he intends to keep doing so for now. Collapsing can wait for later.

“That was some battle,” he says, approaching Lara, since she’d been one of his teammates and all. One who’d fought quite well, from what he’d seen. “Had you ever fought a dragon before this one?”

Approaching, Kain half fears what sort of unpleasant secrets she might make him spill this time around, but really, he doesn’t think they’ll get into one of those drinking games this time. Instead, it’s all about the victories they’ve all had. He looks worse for wear himself, he definitely will need armor repairs not to mention Kain-repairs with plenty of healing, but all of that can wait.

“I take it you defeated your dragon as well.” He can’t help it, he does something truly rare and weird: he grins right at her. “An exhilarating task, wasn’t it?”

Kain is exhausted, and that’s putting it lightly. He’d put everything into that battle, pushed himself in a way he hasn’t yet done here in this world. It made him feel like old times. Made him feel… alive. He’s also covered in a good share of bruises and cuts and frosted-over patches where the dragon’s frosty breath got him. There are dents on his armor. He may be limping a bit, and holding his off hand (right) a little funny. But they’d done it and that was reason enough to celebrate.

He grabs a drink and downs it at once with a satisfied sigh afterward. Then slams it down, clearly up for more. “I’d say this proves the worth of us rifters.” Quite a few of them had been out there battling the dragons after all.

Not thinking of drinking games this time, Korrin grins right back. She appreciates that rare and amazing sight, which is all the more reason not to call attention to it. Maybe it will even last the night. And she won't fret or push potions on him, unless he's collapsing. Korrin's not here to babysit anyone tonight, just have a good time.

"Hell yes. I got to test my Knight-Enchanter abilities, and they held up against that beast. What better test is there? I take it you took a souvenir, too? A claw or scales or something?"

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that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar

HIVERNAL | Asher, Kain, Lara, Martel

KALTENZAHN | Cassandra, Jamie, Korrin, Merrick

HIGHLAND RAVAGER | Iron Bull, Lexa, Mal, Merrill

POST-DRAGON TAVERN VISIT | OTA

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figured I’d toss him at her since they were teamed up!

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