Feywings ~RP~

As Xiax was annoying them with fireballs, one of the Imperials broke from the group and engulfed himself in an inferno. He was heading straight for Xiax! Xiax flew straight towards the flaming dragon, then at the last second, he dove and went under it. As he started flying back up, he noticed Nitrex attacking a courier who was most likely about to send for reinforcements. He also noticed one of the Imperials who was firing off small, controlled bursts of fire. Xiax realized he had been stupid when he had started attacking them, and so he flew out of the fray. He realized that the flaming dragon was still after him too late, and got knocked out of the sky. As he was falling, he realized something. Feyscale was a real thing. Tiberias wasn't lying when he told the dragons of Ceylarya about it. Xiax barely felt the fire. He decided to fight back. He flew back up to the now flameless dragon, and started bashing it over and over again.

 

Kurishtala felt the thud of scale upon scale as he slammed into the shorter, albeit relatively heavier, renegade that had fired upon the Feywing force. The dragon came out of his invisible state, only to reveal himself to be a Feyscale himself. Kurishtala snorted as the deserter attacked, the dual-element dragon easily slipping between strikes like a ribbon carried by the wind.

"A Feywing who betrays Taberias is no Feyscale at all, he reprimanded, slipping through another strike with ease, "You do not even deserve death, but I shall deliver it.

rip.

The sound of a membrane being rended filled Kuriahtala's ears. In the soldier's haughty dialogue, he did not notice that talon coming down. However, the wound itself was not debilitating, at least not to Kurishtala.

With what would be a smirk, Kurishtala began plummeting, falling like a dragon that had lost the aerodynamics in one wing. This was a maneuver he mastered long ago, but only had the chance to use it now.

As he fell, a glint came to his eye. A glint that would only be visible to a dragon directly in his face, for he figured that the Renegade would want to finish the job.

 

The dullest of light shone through in the depths of the cave where Tarasqueda stood. The light of day glinted off of the water dragon’s scales, giving the simplest of reflective patterns upon the wall. It was a welcome sight for her and the rest of the servants, who scarcely saw the beautiful days or somber nights. They had been forced to stay, imprisoned; serving the ‘superior’ Feywings for years… satisfying their masters and mistresses was all they knew these days.

Tarasqueda long wished for the day when the entirety of the servant populace would rise up to appose their masters; she had waited for months, years! And still, the servants became more and more frail, aged, and sickly, not in fighting shape to match the Feywings, and their organizational and combat skill. So, silently, like all of the rest of the servants, Tarasqueda waited, biding her time in silence and without communication to any other force. Every so often she caught wind of the news of where the rebellion stood. She longed to stretch her wings and fly again, though her time was passing, and quickly.

Life is so precious, and yet mine is consumed with bitterness and hatred… She pitied herself, and what she had become. A creature filled with nothing but a burning, passionate hatred, but a strange desire to serve and not be beaten like the rest of the oppressed in the room with her.

Suddenly, a guard came down, beckoning her forward. It had seemed almost disoriented, but nonetheless, she followed, assuming that Taberias had some pressing need that must be attended to. As she reached her master, And overlord, she mentally noted, she bowed her head submissively, saying in a voice softer than velvet, “You called, Lord Taberias?”

 

As the dragon fell, Xiax realized something was off with this dragon. Instead of following it in order to finish it, which is what most dragons would have done, Xiax swooped underneath it and in front, and saw the dragon smiling. As soon as he saw this, he flew away as fast as he could. He cloaked himself, and flew back to meet up with the other Renegades.

 

The battle was beyond control now. Spectre would have liked to have simply flown away then and there. Although he was an expert in combat, he disliked having to fight. At least, not without purpose... and his current reasoning didn't quite... click. However now was not the time to be picky. It was too late for any kind of peace. He must now act, to defend the company he had charged himself with.

Using the powers of G-Force to power is assault, he dove. Spinning and twisting as to avoid anything that may come, he continued his rapid, but angled descent, before extending his wings once more and nigh-instantly changed direction with expert skill. He spiraled again, but not for evasion this time, but to improve his attack. He barreled into Corvus, who had appeared to ignore Spectre completely. Breathing a stream of flame at the black dragon just before broadsiding his body for the collision.

 

As the blood dripped down from Nitrex's claw, the injured courier began to "fly" away from him. The courier was in pain and his wings were damaged as well, making it easier for Nitrex to do that, but he had a better plan. If he restrained himself from killing the courier, the Renegades could take him as a prisoner of some sorts and get some valuable information. With the thought of ruining the Feywings in his mind, a small smirk appeared on the Earth's face.

The large dragon flew after the courier to catch up to him. Despite being an Earth dragon, Nitrex was keeping his pace and slowly catching up to the injured wind. Below him was the target, so he flew downwards folding his wings to acquire more speed. Again, he extended both of his claws and latched onto the courier's wings. With his sharps claws, Nitrex teared up the wings even more causing the blood to escape, but still trying to let the courier live.

-------​

After his attack, Hiruk saw a dragon flying towards him, releasing a loud angered battle cry. It was the Renegade leader Corvus. Just before Hiruk had anytime to think, Spectre had collided with the Renegade. This was no time for Hiruk to watch. He shot out towards the two dragons, but still remained a distance away to get a better look at the situation. Like before, he shot small, concentrated bullets of fire aiming, but made sure it was small enough so it would only hit Corvus. The bullets were also shot at a fast pace and speed, so it would a sting to it.

 

As Xiax was retreating, he took a good look at the battle around him. Behind, he left the odd Feywing with which he had fought, and nothing was ever as it seemed. To one side, Nitrex was attacking a courier, to the other side, Corvus was caught in a fight with a Wing guard and the second in command. He decided he should help Corvus, and went to attack the dragon spitting oddly small fireballs at Corvus, as a piercing screech rang through the battlefield. Xiax immediately located the source, the courier, and shot a fireball directly at its mouth. He then turned back and attacked the wing guard.

 

Kurishtala, after nearly hitting the ground as he fell, as he could see the ground coming upon him, realized that his plan had failed. The renegade had somehow seen through his rather masterful façade of disability. However, Kurishtala was far from finished with his display. As his body neared the ground, he spun around, his scales blurring into a glowing orange. Then, at the moment he would have hit the ground, he straightened himself upwards, his body barely even above the ground. Just as fast as this correction, he jetted himself upward towards the renegades, easily catching up to them. However, instead of slowing behind them, he shot past them, his body speeding like some bolt. Then, he curved up and back, flying upside-down back towards the dragons he passed. In this fantastic display, he began his descent.

He flew forward and down, his brilliant scales shining in the daylight like some fire brought forth by a grand artist. Then, he shot flames forward, now setting the once-cloaked renegade in his sight. The flames jutted forward like some ethereal extension of his very body, nearing his seeming rival quickly. He knew that even If the fire would prove ineffective, his huge body, despite its rather extreme lack of girth, would no doubt be able to knock the young dragon out of the sky.

[hr]

Arger looked around. This was not a good battle for him; the Feywings refused to relinquish their aerial position. Arger growled as some bursts of fire came his way, but they simply dissipated on his thick scales. Such measly attacks meant nothing to him.

In his peripheral vision, he noticed a blue glint in the distance. Looking, he saw a lone courier being chased down by Nitrex, the fellow renegade and Earth dragon. Arger ran towards this pursuit, seeing that the Feywing was having obvious trouble flying. As he caught up to them, Arger roared loudly. "Need any help?" he asked the other renegade, "I'd be happy to dispose of the shinyscale for you." Arger purposely said this as loud as he could. Loud enough that, despite their quickly descending altitude, the two dragons would no doubt be able to hear. In fact, plenty of the other dragons would no doubt be able to hear it as well, especially at the word "shinyscale."

 

It's been too long, I can't remember my last bout. I fear I may have lost my edge. Nevertheless, Spectre had a job he must do. Disable the leader and the troops are likely to fall with minimal casualties. He never delighted in bloodshed, but some things needed to be done. Even though the cause for this conflict appeared unnecessary to him, he honored the decisions of his superior. What he feared now was returning home to Shonye and having to report on his dealings... and explain his injuries.

As he slipped inside the flame that the Black had evaded, he twisted rapidly and expertly, flaring his wings in some-what awkward angles, dispersing the flames into a single direction, into the renegades [namely Kurai]. Chaos and fear was a good strategy to evaded life loss, and a cylinder of focused flame ought to dissuade some of these rebels from combat, especially the more untrained ones.

Accomplishing his feat in the blink of an eye, he quickly leveled out as to swerve around the old Black, diving and rising as to keep him guessing on what Spectre would do next. Being as graceful a flyer as he was, something inaction could not remove from him, he was a master of the art of being unpredictable. His radiant, twilight appearance made it even more difficult to discern his movements, as he appeared to simply meld with himself, a simple streak of night.

 

“No need to threaten her. I am sure she is aware of the consequences of running off.”

Tarasqueda bared her teeth in a grimace. She tried to maintain a straight face - one devoid of emotion - though it was a feat most difficult through the rush of adrenaline and euphoria which she felt upon hearing Taberias and Rajius, the highest ranking of all the Feywings, dismissing her for a lowly task… and one that would allow for her escape. Stoically, she stated plainly with a bow, “Yes, Lord Taberias. It shall be done with immediately.” She turned to Rajius and offered a bow in his direction as well, showing mock courteousness to her superiors.

She could feel the crimson eyes of Rajius burning into her skin. He was the picture of what the Feywings strived to be; dashing, swift, and of course, degrading and superior. The complex they maintained displayed the supremacy they thought they held over the rest of Ceylarya… but their reign was at an end. Tarasqueda walked slowly out of the cave, taking flight for the first time in weeks - possibly even months. It felt so… liberating. Exhilarating. The adrenaline coursed through to her wings as they caught wind and sped her towards the east, Where I will accomplish the task at hand, before heading downstream to find the Renegades.

She was free, finally. She let out a breathy laugh in the cool breeze, and once out of earshot of the cave, she roared in sheer joy. It was difficult to contain herself or her thoughts as they raced at a pace not dissimilar to that of her flight. It wouldn’t be long before she reached her destination, at this rate…

Once she reached the destination, she saw the massacred body of what must have been a Renegade soldier. She looked in distaste at the lifeless body, before nudging it into the river. The blood left a little trail on the riverbank, and began to stain the water a bright crimson as the body was swept away by the tide. Tarasqueda sighed. “If only this Feyscale epidemic hadn’t happened… Taberias. Such a bloody monster.” She spoke with such distaste that she kicked the dirt of the bank in frustration, dislodging a plant’s roots, and knocking herself off balance and into the water in the process. She cursed aloud, but the moment she hit the water, her troubles seemed to melt away. She swam. Slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed as she remembered the ropes of how to glide so freely in the water.

The liquid was such a relief on her scales. It was a forgotten beauty, and one she now knew not how she had missed in the past. The water dragon sped downstream, past the body of the fallen Renegade, before she detected the presence of other dragons approaching her… or rather, dragons which she herself approached. Upon reaching them, hoping they might be the Renegades, she raised her head out of the water, then her body, and finally, flew powerfully upwards, roaring. As she did so, she saw the glint of Feyscale; a horrid sight for her to see after all that had happened in her life. Her roar turned to one of disdain, as she knew her presence was now known…