Beneath the moon, a vast shadow was cast over the seas. The silhouette of a great black wyrm, crowned with antlers, soared towards the jewel of Canelux, Adeluna. Its wings against the sky appeared as the auroras in regions further north.
Other than this eye-catching feature, only mere glimpses could be stolen of the creature, for it moved through the dark as though it and the dragon were one.
Story soared well past the docks, and landed just beyond the Western city gates, out of view of the guards in their watchtowers. The dragon's form shimmered and distorted, pulling in upon itself until it compacted into the shape of a man. Black scales peeled and vanished in a cloud of arcane vapor to reveal human musculature and soft ebony flesh. The remainder of the creature's amorphous bulk wrapped about the figure like a star-dotted shroud, forming the clothing that he wore as a man. Steel-plated pauldrons connected to a dark leather overcoat, a grey open neck tunic, padded brown trousers, and heavy black boots. At his side appeared an ornate, charbronze-hilted heavy saber in a sheath.
Running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, and smoothing out his coat, Story made his way into the city. In much the same fashion as his reptilian form, he seemed to fade in and out to the naked eye - moreso when not in the presence of moonlight or lit lamp or torch. This was a natural ability to him, but the illusion did require some small amount of concentration to maintain. Given that he was being hunted day and night, in every corner of Revaliir, he had to exercise caution.
He thought back weeks ago to his encounter with the relentless Order in Kurayo, and how the elder vampires of the city bowed to him in reverence when he transformed in the middle of the street. He had done so to create a distraction, as the ignorant hunters had targeted a young woman who was searching for someone….he had never really given the sight a second thought until tonight.
Heaving a great sigh, Story's indigo gaze skimmed the street until they rested upon the sculpture and signage for the Winking Mermaid.
There was a time that the dragon had existed very quietly, appearing to whomever he wished, and easily slipping back behind the veils of history. From having an intense, albeit short-lived tryst with Death Herself, to his megalomaniac brother escaping the ancient bonds he had placed upon him, now to this zealous band of hunters following him about….
Story now had promises to keep as well to those that had crossed his path. Seeing futures and finding the lost were an inborn specialty. Inadvertently, he had become a sort of infamous celebrity.
Story entered the tavern, the implications of vampires knelt before him still weighing heavily on his mind. Not all of them knew, but those that were old enough, or at least learned enough on heritage and various bloodlines knew that some of the first of the race bore the crest of a great umbral dragon. It was a rather dark time in history…one which he refused to play a role in beyond helping the weaker species, changed against their will by his brothers.
Yelping, laughing, and whimpering pulled the man from his dark reveries.
It was a common sight….seeing a bar wench mistreated by grizzled sailors here in Adeluna. The hour was late, however, and they were the only party here besides himself and a few regulars who rented rooms, who habitually stayed at the fringes of the establishment. The boundary between simple crass groping and forced acts was to be crossed, and the woman tried desperately to fend the three men off, which they replied with strikes to her face.
By nature, Story was a neutral party in any situation. Ever since he had returned from the encounter with his brother in the sunken cathedral though, his heart strings seemed to compel him to act.
He wasn't sure at what point he was possessed to swiftly and harshly intervene. The reaction seemed natural…automatic…. He only came to consciously when he was washing the blood from his saber in the rear of the tavern.
