Lord Wyron — Roleplayer Guild

The village of Lothering had been experiencing terrible storms for the last few days now, each one seeming to be worse than the last. The skies grew darker to the point where some would swear that morning looked no different from night. Tendrils of lightning flashed across the sky like phantoms waging war against each other, clashing and booming with thunder to accompany them. Lothering was by no means a large city, nor was it a tiny village either. It had its own guard station with regular patrols, and enough revenue and trade to keep it on the map, but with the Dragon War, very few felt the need to travel down the roads. Though there were a few conspiracy thinkers out there who preached about how the lightning storms that raged over Lothering were part of something much larger, most just stuck to the agreement that it was bad weather, and didn't let it stop them....oh how they should have listened to the preachers. On one particular morning when the storms were far more terrible than they had been before. So bad, in fact, that the guardsmen had prepared buckets of water should any lightning strikes start a fire. What they hadn't expected was something *far* worse. As the afternoon turned into evening, many of the townsfolk were finishing up their work days and heading back to their hovels, ready for a hot meal and maybe a mug of ale at the Drinking Troll Inn before heading to bed for the night. So few were out and about, in fact, that they didn't notice the large gray shape fly above the village, a strike of lightning illuminating it for *just* a moment before it disappeared. The guards blamed the sight on a simple trick of the eyes, born of their fatigue, continuing their patrols without worry. It was the not-so-distant roar, however, that roused the guard's attention. A sound that pierced through the night sky, sending shivers down spines and causing hairs to stand on end. Adrenaline pumped through the guardsmen as their eyes frantically looked up at the darkening sky, their eyes constantly blinking as they were pelted with raindrops that had increased in frequency since the sound of the roar. "I'll be damned..." "Where is it?!" "Keep your eyes peeled." "All of you, shut up!" These were the terrified whispers of the guards, who, for all their training were not ready, physically or mentally to face a dragon. Before they could continue to think, however, a [voice](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szMoqvy2I8g) rang out amidst the sky, harsh and terrible, **"Watch your breathing....I can *smell* your fear."** An ear-piercing **thud** resounded throughout the village as something *large* landed on the thatch roof of the city hall, the wooden construct groaning and creaking with the added weight, ready to collapse at any moment. The streets soon *filled* with terrified townsfolk, screaming and practically trampling each other to run away from the terrible threat that was the dragon. The guardsmen, shaking as their knees were, stood their ground, staring at the drake. "Wh-who are you, Beast?" One of them, braver than the rest, called out. The dragon laughed cruelly, his terrible cackle booming into the night sky. **"I am Zevlassan, Lord of Lightning. The Herald of Thunder. And this...is Lothering. What a quaint little place."** The dragon added, a loud growl coming from deep within his throat. It was true, he remembered Lothering from his time as a human...but alas, that time was done. The guards, stoically silent slowly raised their crossbows, Zevlassan just seeing the bolt aimed at him before a pull of the trigger sent it flying, the bolt grazing the side of his snout. Letting out an angered roar that caused some's ears to bleed, Zevlassan took in a deep breath before unleashing a volley of lightning from his mouth; the torrent of blue, purple, and white was blinding as it shot out like a battering ram, colliding with the guardsmen who began to burn inside their own armor, overcome by the storm. Zevlassan then began his reign of fury on the town, reducing every building in the village to rubble, and those who stood in his way to blackened bone. The screams of the townspeople rang out, but all that answered, was a sound of thunder. ~~~ Flying high above the night sky with a full belly and his need for conquest sated, Zevlassan sought the land of Valhalla, answering a summons for all dragon lords to arrive, to work together to reclaim their home. There was a time when the Lightning Lord loved humanity as though they were his own, treated them with great respect. But they betrayed his kind, looked at him as nothing but a terrible monster....if it was terrible monster they would want; it was a terrible monster they would *get*. Flying a good ways behind Zevlassan was his bodyguard, a single storm dragon smaller and sleeker than the rest, built for aerodynamics and speed. He willingly agreed to fly with his lord and protect him in the human land, lest the other lords become too greedy and ambitious...

There was so little sound of movement coming from Cade's room that one would have assumed he had simply fallen asleep. In actuality he had quietly and effectively unpacked and stowed away everything he brought with him, mostly consisting of casual outfits (a dark colored t-shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots), base toiletries, and a few minor decorations kept on the bedside table. Now getting to work examining the equipment he had been issued, Cade meticulously studied the four pistols he had been issued; individually taking the firearms apart to analyze each piece before then putting them back together, nodding approvingly at each examination. These were quality pistols, even better quality than he had wielded during his time in Sundowner. He couldn't help but reminisce about his time there, when he was a young man. *'Field Agent Washington'*, the pompous title he always loved going by during missions. Oh, he did his job well, that much was sure. But a boy was still a boy, no matter how many guns you gave him. No no, he really became a man the day he signed away his humanity in order to save the Front. The day he had everything but his soul stripped from him in order to create the *perfect* soldier. Nightmares such as he had no place in modern society, not anymore. His life was now on the battlefield. It was almost a funny thing, Cade believed. His face looked the same, looked human. The only signs of his surgery aside from the eerie glow of his cybernetic eyes were various scars that dotted across his visage; though these could have easily been attributed to his time in Sundowner. A bodyguard with no scars was no bodyguard at all. During his first week of training, Cade was treated the same by everyone else. To them he was human...until his first sparring match during close-quarters-combat training. Not knowing his own strength, he had delivered a single punch strong enough that his opponent had broken eleven ribs, dislocated his shoulder and sternum, and punctured a lung. After that day, Cade was ostracized by the rest of his squad. They viewed him as he *truly* was - not a soldier, but a monster. Pursing his lips as he recalled the memory of his comrade coughing up blood on the fighting mat, wheezing pitifully and choking on his own blood as it came up his throat. As if to add emphasis, Cade looked down at his own hand, slowly clenching and un-clenching it, heaving out a heavy sigh. How could he return home like this? He couldn't even shake one's hand without fear of turning their bones into dust. Shutting his eyes tightly whilst cupping his chin, Cade's lips twitched as he thought of one person back home, one person who would accept him...*Amelia*. Before he could think deeper, however, a painful pressure began pulsating in the back of his head, causing Cade to grit his teeth as the pressure slowly increased, reaching a point where it felt as though his head might split before a disembodied voice spoke up, "Squad N3, Squad N3 - Prepare for a visit by General Yertz. This message will repeat." Seconds after hearing the message, Cade's eyes darted to his massive comrade who just appeared in his doorway, inquiring about the message Cade had just heard. "Yes...yes, I heard it. I suppose we best look presentable." Cade replied slowly, his voice sounding alien and fluctuating in tone and pitch as he slowly stood to his feet, recovering his mask off the bed as he did so.

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