Legion02

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

@Lord Zee I do have a question about the curse. Will it just randomly trigger in humans? Or is there something that sets them off?

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

@Stern Algorithm Yes, they will try to avoid any divine realm (or area where a gateway is towards a realm).

@Lmpkio Good! The humies need help!

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

Great flames were lighting up the forest around the tiny shack in the middle of quite literally nowhere. The leader of the raiders, Fir, had it on good authority that a shaman lived here. His source, Esif, stood next to him. “Come out!” Fir yelled towards the shack, as his men holding torches surrounded the shack. Soon the darkness had to flee into the trees their long shadows. But the Shaman did not come out.

“He could be…preparing a spell.” Esif noted, a little afraid. She may have become one of the raiders, but she hadn’t felt like one of them yet. Still, despite her inexperience, Fir took note of her comment and gave a nod to one of the Hands. Who moved quickly towards the door with an axe in hand. He tried to kick the door open, but the latch held.

From within the old shaman warned: “Begone foul demons! I have peered in your hearts! The god of fire slumbers! He is powerless to help you! Begone! Begone and I may forgive you. If you do not, a cursed existence awaits you all!”

Fir just scoffed at the remarks. As if the shaman had no idea what he was talking about. Fir raised his hand for all his raiders to see. Then clenched it. With bundles of wood and twigs, they stormed the walls. Soon the shack looked more like a massive bonfire was being prepared. Though the door was left exposed. The tinder caught flame from the torches, which in turn ignited the wood. Great flames began to lick against the walls as smoke crawled through them. The flames grew higher and Esif saw how the smoke rose from the roof. Soon a coughing old man fell out of his house with only a staff in one hand. None of the Hands wasted a minute before throwing hooks at him and pulling him closer to them. In the act he lost his elegantly carved staff. Though a Hand was quick to pick it up.

“You fools! Do you not know who I am! A thousand curses upon you! May your spawn never see the light of day.” The old shaman tried to spat towards the raider’s leader. It barely reached his feet. He was less than impressed. He just moved his brazier-staff to his other hand. Revealing the woman standing next to him. “Esif!” the old shaman exclaimed. “Little girl.. what are you doing with these…” but then he noticed the torch in her hand. “No… you wouldn’t.”

The Hands let the man fall down to his knees. Fir opened his mouth, ready to speak. But it was Esif who spoke: “Yes. I have.” She took a step forward and passed Fir. She now stood before the old shaman. She could see the confusion and that one burning question: why? What could she possibly offer as an answer? She tried to be strong. But now that she was confronted with the question, she could barely answer it. Fir put a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to answer to him.” He said as he stepped forward once more. He then turned to the shaman. “You do. Magic. I know you possess it. I know you revere the goddess. Hand over everything you know and your death will be swift.”

The shaman just laughed like a maniac. Which just made the raid leader let out a weary sigh. He reached out with an opened hand and caught the thrown shaman staff in it. With it, he lifted the chin of the Shaman. “You will regret not telling me.” Then the man was dragged back to his house. The wood was burning fiercely against the walls. It wouldn’t take much more until the whole thing was set ablaze. When the shaman realized what was going to happen, he tried to plant his legs into the dirt. Another Hand walked up to him and broke his leg with one fell sweep of his hammer. Fir gave the stolen staff to Esif and turned around to see how the shaman was locked inside his own house. “Oh Ragnagedon! God of Fire! Accept this sacrifice! A worshipper of your false sister! See that not even magic stands against your followers!” he preached, then turned to his followers. “We move north!”

“What’s up north?” asked Esif.

Fir just smiled at her: “Gods.”

---

Ystra, the strange word kept echoing through her mind. It was the only word she could form. Everything else, every thought she had, was just images and primal needs. She felt a need to eat, to hunt, to kill. Constantly. Ystra was the most developed though she ever had and now she took it as what she was. Ystra. The Verzakian Dragon had fled her homeland. Some chose to stay. Perfectly happy to be nourished by the fire god’s essence in his own realm. While constantly running the risk of being discovered and killed by their creator. Most siblings chose to flee. But as soon as they had passed the desert, the very sight of the others enraged her. They seemed to feel the same way. A fight broke out in the skies of the pass leading into the forest. Most Verzakians’ left it behind them. Others met their untimely demise there. But as they reached a strange jungle, they felt a strong, warding power. Something akin to their own lord yet very, very different. None of the dragons dared to enter the jungle. Instead, they spread west and east. Some tried to go further north. Not Ystra, she had made her lair in the mountains east.

Further north there was a lake and a forest, her favorite hunting ground. She was roaming it now. Killing boars and deer. For now she knew a measure of peace, at least the most amount of peace any Verzakian Dragon could feel, as she slowly ate the bloody flesh. But her meal was soon to be disturbed by a stick flying out of one of the bushes. The wooden javelin just cracked upon her scaled skin. But it didn’t go unnoticed. Ystra turned towards the bush and spewed a jet of flame into it. From the flaming foliage, a man ran entirely engulfed in fire. His screams of pain sounded like the most beautiful song Ystra had ever heard. Other humans jumped out of their hiding spots. Some tried to attack her, others ran. Ystra was surprised. What were these things doing? Some tried to hit her with stone weapons. She felt that, but it only enraged her. One she ate whole. His flesh tasted sweeter than the youngest fawn the dragon had ever eaten. These things were so appetizing! And they were throwing themselves so readily at her. With a swipe she send one of the hairless apes flying through the air. Until he hit a tree with an audible snap. Others ran or tried to throw more sticks at her. One nearly hit her in the eye. That enraged her. More fire was blown around, more backs were rend open. Blood poured and trees burned around her. But the fire didn’t bother her. She was born from molten rock. Soon the human hunters ran for their lives. With Ystra close behind them. Uprooting trees and crushing all manner of bushes under her. And behind her the ravenous flames of Ragnagedon raged.

A terrible hunger drove her through the forest. Leaving a trail of destruction behind her. The essence inside her, that was normally so painful, was now making her feel strong. The hunters left the woods and ran into a meadow. A bit further she saw the source of her food. A camp, two rows of tents around a single fire. Inside it were numerous people. The whole sight excited her. She unfurled her wings and took the air. The hunters she passed below her didn’t matter anymore.

The people around the tent didn’t know what they saw. A black dot in the sky was approaching, while their hunters came running for the village. What was chasing them? Then, a loud roar traveled over the meadow. It answered everyone’s question. People began to scream and cry as Ystra approached. Women took their children, men their spears. Groups tried to run but the dragon was upon them. With her breathe she burned the grass and ground before them. Walls of fire blocked their escape. Pillars of smoke began to rise up as javelins were thrown up into the air. Chaos and fearful screams reigned. The meadow became thick with smoke. From within it, one could barely see anything. Other than large blasts of fire through the thick smog.

For the humans below her, the world was set ablaze. The black air killed some. But Ystra, burning and swooping down killed more. She drove her prey closer and closer together. The warriors foolishly believed they could stand a chance that way. It did not matter, Ystra flew down through the thick smoke. Once close to the ground she flew through the fire as if it was nothing, finally landing in the middle of it and right before the last group of people. The warriors stood firm. But the mothers and children within were crying. Out of all the commotion, Ystra could hear one word pounding in her skull. “Hayim.” They kept repeating. Ystra couldn’t understand human speech but Hayim she did understand. It hurt her skull and fed her painful flame. It had to stop. Ystra finally charged for the group, fully intend to finish the painful clamoring.

When the dragon was done a large column of smoke rose up towards the sky. Ystra took towards the skies once again. In the distance, she saw another pillar, and then another. It looked like her siblings had found their feasts as well.

Summary

The Old Shaman of Esif’s older tribe was captured and killed in a big bonfire. Then Fir, the leader, led them up north. Ystra, a Verzakian Dragon, slaughtered a whole tribe. Once in the air she noticed her pillar of smoke was not the only one.

Short version: Humanity is going to need divine help soon...

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

@Stern Algorithm I keep wondering, what would Gammaton even attempt with Ragnagedon.

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

@A Lowly Wretch I hope you don't mind me taking the Leader figure for a ride. It felt only fitting.

@Kalas The soul of the first Verzakian Dragon is probably going to descend. Feel free to grab him if you so desire.

[@All] I'll be writing up a bit about the Verzakian Dragons in a bit. Basic premise: They're dragons in the worst possible way but other gods can change them if they so desire. However, the only way to do so is to remove Ragnagedon's essence. Which will make them considerably weaker and remove their ability to breathe fire. However it will relieve the constant pain, hate and rage they feel.

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

Women and men, children and elders. All those captured sat on their knees around the fire. Behind them, the Hands were throwing every burnable substance onto the pyre. Not just wood but also tools and furs. It was all burning. The heat was burning the prisoners’ backs. Most of them were a sobbing mess. Some tried to be defiant, even though they were defeated. They refused to give in to the pain of the heat behind them. The leader stepped before them, back and forth. Observing them. Until one of the Hands gave him a nod. Almost everything was in the huge, blazing bonfire now. He walked up to one of the defiant ones. A woman, almost 19. “What is your name.” She spat before his feet. Which amused the leader to no end. He planted the brazier-staff into the ground and pulled her up by her throat. Yet she remained defiant in her eyes. “Do you hate me?” She spat again, this time in his face. He took the full spat without flinching. “Good.” He answered. “Now do you hate anyone here?” He asked with a soft, snake-like voice. She didn’t break eye contact. But someone down the line of kneeling people did stir. He dropped the girl and moved the guy a bit further down. “So… what did you do?” the leader asked as he looked down upon the now whimpering guy. A man of barely 25. Who couldn’t get a word through his fear. “It’s okay. I don’t need to know. She knows.” The leader turned to the girl again. “Do you want to kill him?” This time she looked up surprised for a second. The leader grinned. “I’ll let you.” He said a she dropped the village elder’s knife before her feet. The girl looked fearful at the burned corpse of her elder, but then back at the blade. It was quiet, save from the crackling of fire behind her. The leader knew what was going on in her head. The doubt, the fear, then the power, the desire. He had seen it twenty times over. It was now or never. Slowly the girl picked up the knife and rose. With weak legs, she stepped towards the man who could only whimper more and more. She started to cry as well. All emotions were overflowing in both of them. Until she stood right before him. The man, the victim, begged her: “Please! Please! I will never do it again! It will never-“ his pleads were cut short by the quick of the blade into his chest. The girl, in a swift move had come down on knee down before him and stabbed him. His head, carrying his wide eyes of disbelief, fell on her shoulder as blood seeped through his mouth. But the girl wasn’t done. Still holding up his body she stabbed and stabbed while she screamed like only a damaged woman could scream. Again and again she thrusted the knife in his flesh. Covered in blood she rose up again and dropped the knife. A lifeless body fell before her as she took a step back. The captured villagers were all frozen in shock. A shock only broken by the mad laughter of the Leader. “Such fury! Such pain! Wonderful, wonderful!” With those words, the Hands took the people, bound their hands and feet and threw them into the fire one by one. As soon as the villagers knew what was happening they squirmed and screamed into the night. It wasn’t enough. The hands slapped and hit them into physical submission. But one was spared. The girl. She looked back at the Leader, confused and afraid. “It’s your corpse. Offer it up.” The girl, ever fearful of what she had done, did what she was told. She picked up the corpse with all the strength in her limbs, dragged it towards the screaming pyre and rolled the man into it. In a cauterized way, she felt better.

Then the Leader chanted. “Oh Ragnagedon! Lord of Fire! I call for you once more! Accept these sacrifices I have made in your name!” he raised his brazier-staff high but the pyre’s flame reached higher. He had prayed and sacrificed many people now. The blood of the innocent had flown freely. And he was able to turn many people to his own cause. Yet his god hadn’t answered him yet. But the Leader was not dissuaded. No-one had seen the Fire God in years.

---

Far south the Destroyer was asleep in his lair. The pool of lava gently bubbled around him. The very land relatively calm and tranquil. There were no clouds and the sun shone down on the rocky ground. There was only a low rumble every now and then. The Destroyer was dreaming of the Golden Gate, a dream that vexed him for decades now. But because of it, the world knew peace. Not for long anymore. A strange sense stirred the great god. His dream vision blurred. The Golden Gate vanished. Instead, it was replaced by another scene. It was night but a large flame burned away the darkness. He saw fire, he saw blood. People threw others in the pyre. Ragnagedon had seen this now several times. A human with a brazier-staff, adorned in bone and torches, sacrificing other humans to him.

The time was right. The land reacted. Ragnagedon opened his eyes and the rumbling increased in Verzak. He raised himself out of the pool as great spires outside began to spat out clouds of ash. Deep beneath the earth, the magma cores shook. Their delicate, roiling movement broke into an ascend. As the God of Fire crawled out of the pool of lava, he lifted his wings to reveal black stone eggs. Soon after the god reached solid ground the stone eggs began to crack. The fissures glowed a gentle red and pulsing energy. The cracking continued as Ragnagedon peered from out his lair into the world. Somewhere far away a human was calling him. Behind him, the eggs cracked open revealing tiny lizards. These malformed, scaled creatures were barely realizing what was happening before they fell into the lava beneath them. Inside the pool they burned and screamed. The heat and fire fed the essence Ragnagedon had placed within them. They screamed though, as the power broke and mend them many times over. Transforming their pathetic early forms into something greater.

When the first Verzakian Dragon crawled out of the lava it let out a deafening scream. It demanded but a moment of the god’s attention. But it was enough. The first dragon, driven by a need it did not understand, charged the god. The fight turned towards the sky when the dragon tried to flee, then realized it could not run from the destroyer. It turned around and fought the god in the blackened skies of Verzak. Wings and bodies clashed. On the ground the fierce winds billowed the flames rising from broken chasms. High above the clouds were black with ash, blocking the sun. Lava exploded from the great mountain, Ragnagedon’s home, below. The whole realm was reduced to a hellscape. The only light came from the roiling magma and eternal flames burning everywhere. But the first Verzakian Dragon stood no chance against a god. Soon it fell from the skies against the mountainside. Broken and defeated. The other dragons crawled out of the lair. Ever so submissive to their creator. One gaze towards them, as he stood over the broken corpse of their eldest sibling, was enough to make they scurry for the other mountains. But Ragnagedon was satisfied. Their essence, his essence, would drive them like slaves towards his goal.

Summary

The human Leader of the fire cult ordered the prisoners rounded up. He gave one the chance to enact revenge and murder someone she hated. Then everyone else was thrown into a great pyre as a sacrifice to Ragnagedon. This awoke the fire god. Who had created special dragons that are now let loose upon the world.

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

@A Lowly Wretch Oh, I like it! I'm actually quite tempted to make Ragnagedon notice the tribe. If they destroy enough he might. Though it would lead to a very self-destructive blessing. Normally he blesses the desperate and the forsaken. But a whole tribe dedicated to wanton destruction, that would work too. Again, these kinds of tribes would never last very long but they would definitely go out in a blaze of glory and probably eternalized by their enemies.

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

@A Lowly Wretch - I was playing with the idea of Ragnagedon's first (and only, so far) tour of destruction being immortalized in early man's legends. Like vague stories are shared in many tribes about a beast of utter destruction. While between the tribes the stories might be slightly different, there is always a constant: fire, wings, death and destruction. Some tribes would believe that the return of this beast (as he suddenly vanished, some might even believe the gods sealed it away. Again, human stories definitely vary) heralds the end of the world. Maybe a certain tribe saw Ragnagedon fly into Verzak and started praying and sacrificing people/animals hoping to keep the destroyer at bay. And as Ragnagedon hasn't left his realm for many years now, they probably believe it works.

Elsewise, what did you have in mind?

@Lmpkio - I'm afraid you should've asked. Mostly to verify if it would be something Ragnagedon would do. In your case, I'm afraid it wouldn't. Your dragon, even though in pain, is not desperate. In fact, he is imbued with great power. There is no way Ragnagedon would've blessed him to control the power. Besides, there is no way Ragnagedon would've just blessed him and that be that. Receiving his benediction is more like a curse. With death at the very end. Always. It would've amplified the divine power maybe, but your god would be suffering every step along the way and might be destined to die. So there are two problems: Ragnagedon wouldn't have given him his benediction and wouldn't have just blessed him with a head to control his power.

I'm sorry if this is a bit annoying to you. But I would prefer my character to stay true to himself.

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

Ragnagedon, God of Fire

Ragnagedon

The ruiner

Domain: God of Fire
Appearance: Ragnagedon has two forms. His God form is rarely seen, even though it is his "true" form. In fact, humans have a greater chance to see him in this form than his siblings. As it is the form he uses to speak and hear what others say. Thus humans willing to receive the benediction of the Fire God may see his true form. His siblings are seemingly less willing to take his blessings or hear his words. They call him mad, dangerous and destructive.

His other form as many names. Executioner. Herald of the End for some humans. The Destroyer. Blaze Lord. It's his dragon form and it is the form he assumes the most. It is his will of fire and destruction made manifest. When the god of fire leaves Verzak, he will often do so in the dragon shape. Early human tribes may be reminded of the one time Ragnagedon flew through the skies in the earliest of ages.

Pictures

<sub>Dragon shape


God shape</sub>

Realm: Verzak, the Ruin-Spire Wastes

Verzak is not hard to find. In fact, one does not need any divine guidance to reach it. They do have to be prepared. It is located in the middle of a vast, terrible desert. Literally crowned by huge, stone spires. Within the heat is unlivable. As unwarded, unprotected flesh would literally sizzle and melt over time. The ground if broken and fissured. Massive rivers of lava change their course constantly and large volcanoes explode and get reduced to rubble. The winds are ever bellowing the eternal flames and carry the blackened clouds of ash around. The land is eternally changing. No building could stand here for long. Within Ragnagedon rules from the only constant in this cursed land. A massive volcano towering over all others. Within are his vast chambers filled with lava and place for whatever divine objects, creatures or other things.

Personality:

Ragnagedon is often considered a mad god for his own beliefs. While it is a fact that nearly all gods were born from Chaos, he does not hold that as truth. No, he was made by Life and Death. Yet hates both of them with a fiery conviction. While amongst the older ones of his siblings, Ragnagedon has not yet found a way to enrage his father, Death. However, there are many legends of him bringing ruin to life to spite his mother. Ragnagedon is utterly indiscriminate in his destruction. Child or elder, it does not matter. When the blue fire dragon descends all perish in a fiery blaze. Luckily for the common folks, Ragnagedon has only descended twice upon the world so far.

While he is a very violent god, he is not a god without his own sense of twisted love. The forsaken and the desperate appeal to him. For they have nothing left to lose but their lives. And should they forfeit that freely, he will pull them in a destructive embrace. Granting them blessings that will inevitably destroy them.

When it comes to his siblings he hates most of them. The twisted Iva’Krorh holds no special place to him. Ferran and Dirka are creator gods, shaping the world through metal or magic. For that he hates them. The God of Fire does not actually know that Hayim exists. As he is so small in shape and (to Ragnagedon) consequence. Though there is little doubt, should the God of Fire learn of the Flower of Life, he would chase it to the end of the world and back again. Another deity that Ragnagedon does not know is Oao of the Darkness.

Notes:

Other: Ragnagedon is an older god. While not the first, he has been brooding most of his time at the Ruin-Spire wastes. Also, while he believes that he is born of Life and Death, the fact is that he really was born from Chaos. Any attempt to convince him of this simple and obvious fact will be answered in anger and acqusations.

"Put that on my Tabula"

Creations

Verzakian Dragons
Slaves of Ragnagedon, Verzakian Dragons are imbued with his divine essence. This pushes them to commit terrible, murderous and ruinous things. They’ve got clawed on all paws, a beak-like mouth with lines of razor sharp teeth within. On their head there are large, twisted horns that are unique to each dragon (and can be used to identify them if needed). But their most powerful ability is the breathe of fire. This and their immense strength is tied with the essence of their god. Which also makes them suffer greatly and makes them need to destroy.

Verzakian Dragons rarely travel or stay in packs. Some may search for suitable partners but if Verzakian Dragons remain too close for too long they will most definitely destroy eachother. Most of them stay out of Verzak and bring ruin to the world. Some stay in Verzak, as it the only place where they don’t need nourishment. But they are under the constant threat of their creator. Pregnant Dragons will travel to Verzak to lay their eggs in the lava pools there. As the newborn dragons need to fall in lava to feed the fire essence within them to grow. Sadly this is a very painful process.

Arch-Dragons
There are currently only 2 Arch-Dragons present within the world. Dubbed the King and Queen of Verzak, these are Lira and Thesan.

There is a great many things that set them apart from average Verzakian dragons. They are vastly more intelligent and can even talk. While normal dragons can only incoherently scream at each other. They also possess the dangerous power to summon all nearby Verzakians towards them and make them work in unison towards a common goal. Finally, their physical change is also significant. They are generally larger and their wingspan even more so. They glow red hot and can leave trails of smoke if they so desire. Their former essence spread and now they are said essence in total. While Verzakians can be turned, purified or corrupted by switching the essence, to take away the essence of an Arch-Dragon is to kill them. Finally, their essence renders them extremely powerful.

Tabrasa\- Born of Chaos.

@A Lowly Wretch - I've updated Ragnagedon. Not too much changed, he's still very much insane. I've left the idea of him believing he is born of Life and Death in, despite not really knowing if those gods actually exist. If they don't that probably makes him even more insane.

https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4764728