02-25-2016, 03:13 PM
The call to arms does not go unnoticed.
He had heard rumors of war, felt the change in the air quality. It was static almost, palpable in its chaotic intentions. High time they got themselves out of the doldrums. Beqanna had been craving a war whether they all wanted to admit it or not. Call it natural selection, or a cleansing of the land; whatever the case may be, the lands were begging for the blood of its people. War was the perfect answer to that question. The weak would undoubtedly fall, their life blood soaking the ground in the most glorious fashion. The strong would carry on to the next generations, fortifying the bloodlines overall. Yes, a most glorious plan indeed.
He was not surprised when he heard Eight’s call, and in fact, a half grin forms on his handsome face. This was his time, his time to let loose the flames that burned him from the inside out. Too long it had been since they had been given a release and his skin was practically sizzling because of it. He does not hesitate to answer, but unfolds the dragon wings that clung tightly to his sides. Shaking his nebula-faced head recklessly he dives forward, gathering speed before taking to the sky. From his vantage point the smoke is visible, and it serves as a beacon. The closer he gets the stronger the smell of ash, a scent that triggered his own flames to rise along his mane and down his back. Before he closes in completely though he leaves the sky and takes to the forest, impervious to the flames that lick at him. While he was reckless and overly self-assured, he was no fool and he would not take on a dragon. A dragon who currently held the Chamber’s princess in her massive claws like some scaly bird of prey holding a rodent. It was not in his nature to be concerned, but he frowned nonetheless. For now there was nothing he could do for her, but he would set to work on the fire. Instead he sets to work on the dragon fire, pushing it and pulling it and swallowing it whole. It burns his throat but he continues, relishing the pain even as his own fire begged to join the current flames. “Not yet…” he thinks as he chokes down their demands. Instead he pulls the fire from the trees and the underbrush, leaving them smoldering but no longer ablaze. He continues on, clearing a path for the others who were not impervious to the burn of fire. Finally, there is somewhat on an entrance, some small bit of tamping of the flames. It is not much but it is hopefully enough. He can not control the spread of magical flames completely, but he can manipulate the fires that spark as a result.
flamevein
i set fire to the rain