Board Thread:World Map/@comment-24937485-20161120034631/@comment-24937485-20161123050858

After Mugen had used his new primal ability to absorb the cells of other people, on a wyvern, he’d t first notice nothing. Not the healing of his own body either. But then, over the following seconds, he could feel an immediate pain rushing throughout every pore of his body as if his very being was fighting against itself. For a moment it’d feel like he’d catch fire and explode but then the feeling slowly subsided. Nothing had healed for the Genin, however, if he felt on his forehead he’d feel two small bumps on either side. What they were… remained a mystery for now.

As the brothers continued onwards they‘d notice that night began to set in. Even though the sun had set, the dark sky was still lit up by the auras or orange that arose from this realm; painted against them the colorless shapes of ash clouds. In the background they’d hear the crying of Wyverns but it sounded too far away to be concerned a danger.

For a moment they might’ve actually felt save and before long they reached a pass between two walls of brimstone that led into another small valley. Here it was like they walked through a forest of stones, large erect rocks most of which were jagged and featured many sharp points.

It was a very eerie place due to how the wind blew past these rock formations, causing for a howling noise to be ever present. And the further they headed the more it’d feel like they saw shadows moving in the corner of their eyes but upon turning they’d never see anything there.

A voice suddenly spoke out behind Mugen. “Hofibavi sthyri, nomeno ui ti wer realm di wer charir daar agnis. nomeno ui wer realm di wer darastrix harroci, wer 'scarred knives'”

Strangely enough Keldran could understand what the man said. “Foolish men, this is not the realm of the Red King Agnis. This is the realm of the Dragon hunters, the 'scarred knives'”

Upon turning to see who spoke, the brothers would see no one there. But then, in the blink of an eye, they were surrounded by a dozen of warriors dressed in dragonhide and fur. Eight of them were muscular men, either bald or bearded. Three of them female, all as tall as Godric with arms as big as Keldrans. All of them wielded greatswords of various design that were worn down by battle just like their wielders who were all scarred.

The one who spoke out before, did so again and stepped out in front of Keldran.

“We’ve been looking for an artifact of the Red king for many years and as luck may have it you seem to carry one. Even though none of our lore told us of a claymore. Which means it’s either very old or very new.”. Chuckling while lifting his massive sword in but one hand, and resting it on his shoulder, the young man continued with a devious and intentionally taunting expression on his face. “So give us that claymore already so we can get those juicy red scales and make a nice profit, huh? I promise we’ll send you guys back home after. Since you really don’t wanna be in a place like this I’m doing you a favor right?”. Grinning wickedly, the cocky bastard continued to look Keldran in the eye while inhaling from a very peculiar long pipe from which constantly drifted a small tendril of smoke.



