+ S P E N C E R +
Traveler. Magician. Dragon Rider. Swordsman. Librarian.
H u m a n // E l f
A g e l e s s - U n k n o w n
H e / H i m | T h e y / T h e m
S p i r i t ? D e c e a s e d .
N o K i n - A m o n g f r i e n d s .
“ You might be wondering
how this could have happened…”
Spencer knows little of his origin. Date of birth. Where he was born. What grounds he walked upon in his youth. He knows not of his father, not the color of his mother's eyes. Even the man's own name comes as a mystery he woke up without. The one he bares presently was something ... given, after he found himself awake midst a plane of grass he did not recognize, all the same. What Spencer did remember, however, was a sensation. The coldness, as it had grasped hold of him. It felt as if falling into an utterly heavy, yet peaceful sleep... He knew little of what he was, let alone who. He started walking. There was nothing else that could be done. He had risen in a prairie-esque plane that seemed to spread onward no matter what direction his head would turn. Spencer walked until he reached a point of familiarity in the form of a small village some thirty kilometers from the place he had woken up within. The village came with hospitality, yet held very few hints. No answers.
“ To decipher it was one thing.
Controlling it was another. ”
For the early years, the world was an undoubtedly strange place. He recognized nothing of his surroundings or sense of self. He slowly came to the realization that he was capable of things beyond the average man whether he liked it or not. The capabilities, in the earlier times... lacked any direction or control. The occasional passing through objects was a problem that shook him not long since he had woken up. His form was corporeal, yet at times, only loosely. It was truly as if his body and soul wrestled to commit between a physical or spectral form without any indication of what kept them tethered. It would happen in a bout of panic, or the wrong twitch of a muscle. Often he couldn't recollect what seemed to cause the shift and changed his form to something far less physical and very much... ephemeral in nature. It would come over him like a cold mist, and left a tingling sensation throughout his nervous system.
At first, it was just his fingertips. Then his wrists. Soon it was whole portions of his being that seemed to pass through its environment on a whim and leave him stricken with panic on how to make it stop, only to make matters worse. Spencer was stumbling straight through walls and phasing through objects on a whim during the early years of his newfound life, where the anomaly was creating more immediate questions than he had to start with. Among the strange symptoms, Spencer noticed how seldom he had felt exhaustion since he started waking. He walked for a few days from where he had started before he felt any urge to sleep, and hunger likewise. His body still felt the aches and pains of being alive, although it was as if it felt numb to what it truly meant. With every time he lost control of his form, the ends of his hair had quickly started to lose its color, spare a short length closest to the roots. These changes among others brought forth a rough transitional period where he struggled to have a grasp on anything around him. Eventually, these skills were to be trained with the right amount of mastery over the years.
like it was something given to the world. ”
Spencer had come to a point where he had lost all sense of what to do with his situation. Time dragged onward for longer than a lifetime, and he was faced with the realization of immortality that grew more evident as the number counted upward. He had traveled, he had remembered and forgotten countless names, and yet found no answers as to what had occurred. His nomadic life eventually took him South, across the seas and over mountains in pursuit of anyone that might offer information. His first encounter that could offer such things came from his passing through the bustling streets of Amsterdam in the early 1600s. He met a curious soul. The woman seemed to stare him down from a distance like she could sense just what he felt to be off about himself. She spoke questions and statements that felt like they were pulled straight from his head, and for the first time in his immortal life, he had answers.
“ You are a spirit, my dear boy. You are as real as this world around you, and yet this world does not own you. You will watch its trees rise and fall with each passing life. You shall experience beyond that of your fellow man. How will you use this gift? This curse? Will you choose to see it like so? ”
Natalia was a practitioner of magic, and most adept in her craft. She was the person to shed light on Spencer's spectral dilemma, possible heritage, and one of the few that looked at him like his claims were not outright insanity. She introduced him to her studies and assisted him in utilizing the magic that had been gifted at birth and recessive in his veins all those years. Spencer spent the next decade or so under her wing in Amsterdam, researching just what the nature of his origins might have been, and learning to utilize that magic for healing purposes when the world greatly needed it. When it came time to leave Amsterdam and continue on with his searching, he was promised a place in the city should he ever return, if he were to look for it.
To this day, he isn't sure what she is, or where her knowledge she possesses has come from. Any questioning throughout the years was met with riddles or parables to send him in circles. In the seldom times he finds himself in the region, he is sure to make his visit to the woman who has changed as little as he has over the centuries. She remains a mentor, good friend, and the first one to confirm he wasn't crazy all along. Following his departure from the Netherlands, he resumed his traveling for the next century or so, using what he had been taught at each stopping point as he went.
“ I paused only for a moment
to ponder what was asked of me. ”
Fate brought him into the Nightwing Empire where his nomadic life changed for the next several centuries. It was an accidental stumbling into where two-legged kind stepped foot merely on occasion and the territory seemed to span onward without an end. He soon came to learn that within it dwells dangerous creatures and beasts alike. Dragons commanded the air, with their dens settled within the mountains and deep within the chasms of its valleys. Warbeasts lingered within the darkest of the forested regions and the swamps of the neighboring lowlands. The region came not without conflict, whether it was between the beasts, or from the external influence of hunters, slayers, or militant forces alike. Although prone to friction, wartime, and hardly a peace-filled place, soon enough he called the mountains and trees of the regions as home. He fit in among the vast array of species with ease and called them as friends.
When fate would throw him into shock once more, Spencer eventually found himself worthy of being chosen as a Rider to one of the larger dragons within the Nightwing Empire. Chanook was someone who quickly had become familiar. While he had grown to no longer fear the dragon, Spencer ultimately came to regard him with the utmost respect. Due to his physicality, the man was not readily affected by the high altitudes, nor the storms that Chanook brought forth in flight. His first flights were among the more interesting moments during this era, but soon enough he had learned to stay steady in the sky with ease. Spencer set himself forth to become an excellent Rider and swordsman. With the skills learned, and the harsh environment the territory offered, Nightwing shaped Spencer as a formidable fighter when he would need it, and a peacekeeper at his core when he did not.
“ All truly great things come at a risk of being lost. ”
As the conflict would eventually come to pass, the territory now shows signs of its age and scars. The enemies have long departed. The hostile beasts settled their disputes, and all in all... with the conclusion of such hostile events, the territory was left with an odd amount of silence. The Empress came to rest at the bottom of one of Nightwing's lakes. Her second in command, Skya, rests in a shrine-like state deep in her mountain den. Spencer still watches over the late dragoness' horde of a library and doctors their pages in his passing time. Among the absences and tragedies, Spencer had been parted from his dragon for reasons that still remain unknown. He knows little of Chanook's whereabouts, nor his condition. While Riders generally feel sensations of their partner's wellbeing or status, he feels little other than emptiness when he attempts to reach out. His only hint is that the connection can still be felt, leading him to believe his dragon is out there. The thoughts weigh heavily on his mind to the point where Spencer has achingly resorted to trying not to think about it at all. He keeps his hopes up to see the dragon's return, just as long as the connection is still felt.
“ And so we march on.”
Following the fall of Nightwing, the man found himself in a period of travel that spanned several decades. Along with clearing his headspace, he was in pursuit of any hints or clues that may lead to Chanook's whereabouts no matter how small the chances might have been. The drawn-out journey nearly brought him across the Earth in doing so. The ex-Rider would pick up many other useful skills and mementos on his way. He heightened his mastery in a small variety of languages, as well as his study of healing magic that had been partially set aside during the last conflicts of the Empire. His traveling had become as much of a pilgrimage as it was a search for Chanook. He returned to hid home in Nightwing years later as a successful Swordsman, historian, and a more proficient Mage. Just as soon as he would settle, he also resumed his role as Librarian to the Nightwing collection as well as his own.
Thirty years have passed since Spencer returned to his home within Nightwing's Western edge of the territory, to which he comes and goes on occasion. Weapons of old battles have been set aside ever since. His shelves are littered with artifacts from his time spent traveling. A collection of books and magical supplies are stacked and housed just about everywhere to make the interior rather claustrophobic to newcomers. His home stands as something more likely to be found on accident than sought out, nestled in the trees. He resumes his studies rather diligently, hardly seen without a bag over his shoulder and a book within reach. His primary endeavor included fresh attempts at deciphering an old tome that had been entrusted to him by Skya prior to her passing.
“ I opened that book and Hell came from its pages. ”
The book was a gift. He didn't know the importance at the time the dragoness gifted it into his hands. Skya spoke of the discovery in her collection, like it could offer the wandering spirit of a man all the answers he had been hunting for so long. Her eyes had seen something he has yet to find in its conflicting, cryptic pages. The book's author is unknown. As to the writing contained inside, one page to the next is a labyrinth of coded twists and turns that would leave any linguist or philologist perplexed. Over the years the man had all but given up on the object that sat dusty on the shelf over his workbench. It served as an old memory for a friend that had eventually passed on without granting him any more secrets on why she had given it to him in the first place.
“ It's always the furthest corner, the overlooked space... if history hasn't erased it. Dark Arts and magical studies alike have not been a favorite of history. ”
The book also became a curse. It started with a visitor in the night that crept in through the shadows and coiled his hands around the cover. The man later revealed himself as a necromantic sorcerer named Marius. After their first meeting, it is apparent the stranger was not only after the book, but Spencer himself. The two have been entangled in a game of cat and mouse ever since. Every time Spencer gets a moment's rest, the black rolling clouds of the sorcerer's familiars creep closer to try and corner him. The chase has come to a point of exhaustion—the mage is forced to travel by day and find a light source to hide come night. The friends and allies that Spencer has reached out to for help are put in danger.
“I would swear to you or anyone else, before all of this, I don’t think we’ve met before.
All the more reason to find out what the book says, or…maybe all the more reason to not.
I’m running a little low on options to not try, in the least.” -Spencer to Raiya
No matter Spencer's demands, he hasn't gotten any answers from Marius about his true motives. He worries that the book has more secrets wrapped up in its guarded pages than expected. If he doesn't discover something about it in time, it might lead to his undoing.
“ I'll finish the war I never knew I started. ”
-WIP-
On his person, Spencer keeps a messenger bag slung over his shoulder that has considerable wear and tear to its edges. Despite this, the bag is laced with its own magical properties. A journal or two are usually kept to catalog what he comes across during his travels, along with writing materials. Precariously, the longsword he carried as a Rider is hidden within the bag and can be pulled out at a moment's notice, defying the physics of the small bag. A small array of weapons and other survivalist materials accompany it. A spare change of clothes or two is kept on standby. He keeps a spellbook handy with useful spells, diagrams, and incantations to assist, should he need them. He usually has a free-reading book, alongside the mysterious grimoire that has caused him misfortune over time. In more recent years, he also carries an outdated brick of a cell phone that he has no expertise in using.
+ Now Carrying :
[The Water Nation Handbook] [Lore of The Invictus]
[The ??? Grimoire] [Traveler's Spellbook] [Field Notes]
“ And so, I learned to walk tall...
but I walked taller among them than I ever was alone.”
RAIYA
“ Raiya will forever be Spencer's best friend when it comes to two-legged kind. She resided in Nightwing well before he ended up there, and the two grew attached at the hip once Spencer had taken the oath as a Rider. Having once been one herself, she was responsible for much of his advice while training, as well as the swordsmanship he honed during that era. The two have fought, struggled, and laughed, and are always up to something when they cross each other's paths. Rai has since moved on from the territory and runs her supernatural shop known as Omnia. Spencer pays a visit on sparse occasions, allowing the two to pick up their friendship right where it leaves off. Time has changed how often they might see one another, but some things never change.”
TEMPEST
“ Spencer had his hands full from the moment he first encountered the Water Drake. He was traveling the coast of Nightwing when Tempest came barreling in, and proved to be the first sign of anything draconic that Spencer had seen in countless years. Tempest is considerably younger than the dragons the Ex-Rider had been accustomed to. While testing his patience at times, the Drake has sparked some life back in the melancholic rider after the years spent alone in the territory. The two have since teamed up in their traveling when Temp was not the only thing that washed up from the shore: with great fortune came great dangers when the threat of a tsunami means that something else is looming under the sea floor, threatening Nightwing's main land. The task of getting to the bottom of the disturbance has paired the two together, and effectively dragged Spencer out of his element.”
CASSELLA
“ The woman had Spencer's utmost curiosity from the moment they spoke to one another. She was all the things he didn't expect to run into on accident, but in truth, Cass was someone wrongfully drawn into his troubles at a time when he might have needed her most. Following a run-in late at night at a library, the night was filled with mischief for survival-sake. It was also filled with chatter when he realized she was a linguist, scholar, mage, and plenty of other things he has yet to decipher. The two are now travel partners as she graciously offered her skills to help him in deciphering the book in his possession that has proven to be most dangerous. Spencer worries about the reprocaution of bringing another person into his personal troubles with the book. On the same token, so rarely does he travel with someone so formidable.”
NEMO
“ The two met by chance during one of Spencer's rare visits to the city, where the library doors closed early and had locked the two in for the night. After becoming acquainted while sneaking back out using Spencer's abilities to do so, it took the walk back to the boy's apartment to decipher that the two had something in common. While Spencer had studied magic for a large portion of his life, Nemo's skillset held more promise than he could imagine at such a young age. Despite how long the two could have visited and chatted, their meeting was relatively short that night. Lo and behold, the short meeting opened the door for a visit that would come a few years later when Spencer would need his assistance most [More to come].”
IRRLITH [NPC]
“ Irrlith was a visitor to Nightwing not from another continent, but from the outer edges of space. Not much is known about the beast aside from his origins being somewhere distant and the looming fact that Earth's gravity is what trapped him here after a crash landing many, many years ago. The space beast has taken up refuge in the territory after conflict with humans and remained for quite some time under the Earth Nation's ground when Nightwing grew dormant. That was, until recently, when Spencer and Tempest woke the behemoth from its slumber in order to help them with the task of keeping the beast's second home safe. Not much is known about Irrlith's origins or biology, but he seems to have a sense of trust toward Spencer who is always looking for what he can learn about the brute.”
CLOUDFEATHER [NPC]
“ No practitioner of magic is complete without a loyal familiar. Cloudfeather is a leucistic red tailed hawk that can often be seen in off in the distance whenever Spencer finds himself far enough from the cities for her to follow. The raptor is capable of flying miles on end when needed to deliver messages in times of need, or exchanges between Raiya and Spencer when they find themselves apart. Cloudfeather has a seemingly mystical connection with the man, when no matter where his travels take him she is bound to find where he is once called. The bird is clever beyond its appearance and reliable beyond measure. She leaves his side only when delivering, occasionally switching roles with Raiya's own hawk, Cyr.”
“ Until we meet again. ”
CHANOOK
“ To this day, Spencer still looks back in wonder to the moment where he had been asked to become a Rider. His partner was none other than Chanook, a dragon of rolling thunder and electricity that stood as a general among war beasts in Nightwing. While others knew him as a goliath, to his Rider, he was a lumbering beast at times and above all, his guardian and most trusted friend. The two spent their days nearby and fought wars by one anothers' side. Following the last conflicts of the territory, the two became separated and the man has carried a hole in his chest ever since. Spencer still believes that Chanook is out there due to the feint, yet present connection between the two that has not yet been severed. As a result, he has an occasional knack for dropping what he is doing at the slightest hint of a lead toward his whereabouts.”
ZORIKO
“ Having first gotten to know Zoriko as a hatchling, she is the daughter of Skya and a dragon of the sky underneath her human facade. The dragoness was someone Spencer had the privlege of re-acquainting with after his absence from the territory when she actively sought him out following the advice of another former Rider. After re-acquainting from when she was young, Spencer took upon himself the task of teaching her magic from the ground up, helping the young dragoness tap into the magic that flows through her veins just as his own mentor did for him. After some time of training together, the two eventually parted ways. To this day he hasn't seen Zoriko again, but thinks back to their magic lessons together fondly when it was a time that his house didn't seem quite as empty.”
SKYA
“ Spencer saw much of the dragoness during the height of Nightwing, down unto the end. Sibling to Chanook, Skya was second in command to the Empress and was a formidable force come times of conflict. However, Spencer knew her first and foremost by the library hidden deep within her den near the center of the territory. He was a trusted visitor over time and has been responsible for the upkeep and mending of the books within it for countless years. He knows every main twist and turn to reach the hidden collection, down to the dragoness' den. Since her passing, the room has erupted with plant life, where she remains in a shrine-like state to present day. He vows to keep up his work of guarding the collection under her keep for as long as he is able.”
NOVAK
“ The two first met in the earlier years of Spencer's settling in Nightwing as a crossing of paths, and they would come to meet again by the time the territory grew dormant. To the deities and spirits that had their eye on Novak, Spencer's spiritual nature being present was a trigger for alarm. Little did they know that their meeting would turn into a chase that would lead them to a chase that sent them cross-continent. The end of their trek lead them straight into the Underworld in order to settle the issue once and for all. As fate was never kind to either men before meeting, things hadn't gone as planned. What the spirit gained was his life and peace from being pursued. What he lost was the friend that had his back through it all. Spencer isn't sure what happened to Novak in the end, or whether he still exists somewhere in the realm below. The thought weighs heavily on his mind.”
Active Threads & OOC :
Tempest | Water Nation Temple | "Did you say a sorcerer?"
Cassella | Melbourne, State Library Victoria | "He's gone..?"
Raiya | Letters via Hawks | "I'm so happy to see you."
Unity (AU) | On The Highway | "Who's side are they on?"
This character originates from around 2011-2012, and much of the lore and stories told originate from events written within that timeline until now. As a writer, especially with Spence here, I'm fairly lenient with response times. He is a 'support' character primarily, but I have a few goals I would like to finish in his plotline yet. Great starting locations include libraries, cafes, big cities, transit the woods, natural landmarks... although I can put Spencer anywhere, he has versatility in settings and can be made as modern or medieval as I need to (for the most part).
FC: Nariman Malanov
" I'm trying to die happy someday
Heaven, let me come stay?
What would it cost
How would I pay?
Please just, save me a place
Tired and I'm awake. "
Comments
There was a lot of glancing back and forth between the two elven men when they started exchanging foreign words his mind couldn’t translate. Judging by the tones, expressions, and body language, it wasn’t good. Tempest had a theory in his head about where this was going, and soon that hunch would be confirmed.
“No. Fucking. Way.”
Once the realization struck him hard, the upper scales on his neck rose up, like an avian itching for a fight. His head and neck lowered, angling his rear legs in a way that’d make it easy for him to pounce on Rourke at a moment’s notice, but had not launched since no word was given to do so. Ohhh was there a strong urge to do it, especially since it was personal earlier.
“Coming back for Round Two huh? I just hope you-”
Upon hearing the female Monarch let out a growl, he cut himself off. Knowing she wouldn’t tolerate an escalation in her own palace, the sea drake bit his tongue and stayed silent. Instead of raising tensions this time, said wingless reptile let their host scold him and ended their bickering, listening closely. Once it was safe to speak again, Tempest posed a question.
“So we’re the first go at it with your Warden and live?” Shortly after asking, the sea drake wondered if this meant they were in some trouble, or~ if maybe she was impressed that someone bested Roarke. If they were truly the first to get the jump on him, this would make an interesting story for him to share with Gleeon someday should they reunite.
For the next moment or two, he listened to what Yuna had to say regarding her mother’s sacrifice, implying that something else was at work here. It got his mind jogging with theories, contemplating. At least now they could rule out the Tsunami as Roarke’s doing since the energy required would have been absolutely massive. Still, this only raised more questions than answers. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He commented to give his condolences, briefly dipping his head down.
A long heave was visible from his chest, as if letting out an exhale despite being underwater. Facing the female ruler, Tempest inquired about the source of the recent catastrophe when locking eyes with her, eager to find out more. “If not your Warden, then who or what brought the tsunami? And given the scale of destruction, what are the chances that whatever caused it will strike again soon? If so, is there any stopping it?”
Then something else hit him, which made the younger drake dart his jade, serpentine irises back to Spencer. “If we go back up to the surface later, we gotta move the Invictus somewhere in case there’s a second incident. I’d hate for my old home to get wrecked like that.”
Witnessing the bot forge a weapon comprised of technology beyond mankind’s scope was a sight to behold, and his expression remained- neutral while working on it, void of emotion since this tiny project took his full focus. The mage’s hunch was indeed correct about the blueprint being embedded in his mind, visible in his own visual HUD to give him guidance.
In the midst of creating what some might consider a marvel of a handheld weapon, his vector-shaped head perked up slightly upon hearing Spencer’s question, pausing for a good moment until an answer could be pieced together.
“..Yes to both, but only two. The first was an anomalous girl with a lot strange quirks that involved a bunch of voodoo, who funny enough also had silver-white hair. The second one was a young lady that I reluctantly accepted into my life after she uncovered my existence, her name was Clarion. We went through a lot together until I presumably lost sight of her one day, and have never gotten closure on her fate since we last saw each other. At times I felt like I was being more of a parent to her than her spoiled father.”
This marked the first occasion where anything personal was shared, and part of him felt- odd for just discussing it with a man he barely knew. Maybe the bot needed somebody to speak about it with since he’d been living like a hermit for the past couple of years.
. . .
Nothing was said while Unity allowed him to figure it out on his own, which he did successfully. Perhaps this man is a quick learner after all. A simple nod of approval was given when granting him a moment to study his new toy and familiarize himself with it, which would be critical for their first mission together.
Just as the white mechanoid turned and was about to take a step forward, he halted upon hearing Spencer’s reluctance. Damn natives. Despite having no lungs, a long, audible exhale could heard parting from his mouth plates.
“Start moving Meatbag, time is of the essence.” With that being said, the tip of his left foot was elevated and gently pushed against Spencer’s back to nudge him forward. Should the mage move along as expected, his much larger metal affiliate followed closely behind, cocking an energy rifle taken from his small armory. It wouldn’t take them long to step through the Ground Bridge portal.
. . .
Once the two had entered, they would both re-emerge on the other side, setting foot on an asphalt road. What lay before them was a very, very long stretch of bridge, with two-four-lane highways they stood out. Disturbingly enough, it was avoid of any cars, empty for many miles on end without anything in sight. One might think the place was abandoned.
Surrounding that seemingly endless bridge was a vast Ocean, with no land anywhere to be seen. The skies were filled with ivory clouds of varying thickness, with some being very dark to signify the presence of rain much further away. It was windy out, enough to blow back the Rider’s hair.
Down below the bridge columns were multiple, gigantic concrete structures resembling hexagon platforms. What purpose they served was anyone’s guess, and they looked fairly new due to the lack of weathering on their exteriors. All of them had closed doors on each side, similar to that of a submarine base.
Shortly after taking a mental note of their surroundings, Unity took a short trek on foot toward the ledge, leaning over some to glance at the water and cast a gaze at the aquatic buildings below.
“An unusual place to have an Energon mine, unless this place is just the distribution center for it. Those structures might be Cybertronian, look.”
Below them at a safe distance, a few groups of other bots could be seen, all of them being similar to the ones Spencer had a previous encounter with, except these were unarmed and had dark purple exteriors instead, with each carrying tools on them. Most of them were busy doing construction patchwork on the roof of one of those facilities.
“Those are Decepticon laborers, they’re easy targets due to lack of armament and training. If it’s not an export center, I’m curious on what’s inside each of those buildings. We could try finding a way to sneak inside or clear house and catch them by surprise. Not sure what the chances are they’ve got onsight security.”
A strange dream, one that still creeps in between sleeping and waking, one that can leave a person uncertain if they have truly come around. Surreal by default, nightmarish at its worst. What can anyone expect in a life where names hardly ever stay dead? “How do you bear it?” The query posed to her warranted a pause to think. Cassella had her fair share of questions, strange things she might have thrown, and stranger things she caught. “It takes a certain level of denial,” she admitted. “Something that humans are good at. If one lifetime ain’t enough to count the losses you just gotta salvage what you can.”
When was the last time you practiced what you preach? Amusement quickly made its way on that face at his remark. Pleasant was not something she herself would define all that. A clusterfuck, maybe, but she didn't seem to protest that at all.
Each time the Empire was brought up, there was always another surge of questions. They came and went in waves, each word heard and thought off leaving her hanging more than the last. Spencer easily painted a picture of ruins tangled with all things verdant green, now dominated by creatures that she probably hadn't heard of. Of races of dragons she hadn't laid her eyes on yet in the eons she had walked, only to be met with the punctuation that most of them were probably gone. Only bones claimed by the earth and the life that transcended it, if this war has even spared that somehow. “You're… not alone in there, yeah?” She gradually asked. It almost sounded like it was a thought that just tumbled out from wherever it was swiftly crammed. Even so, it was wrought with concern. “You do have peers who also stuck around like you did, right? Folks just as timeless to visit and hang around even just for a while.” Just to take out the solitude every now and then.
Maybe it was because a part of her knew what that was like. Hardly everlasting, but still always made the rounds. Making sure that some places were accounted for, some entities remained sane.
"Sooo, what kind of ingredients are we talking about?" Cassella asked. “Nothing too legendary or back-breaking, I hope?” With one last peek outside to the sea and the faint lights that peppered its borders, she quickly drew the curtains. It was as if the woman was already half-expecting the sight of something canid from the shadows.
There was nothing, it was alright. Even the familiar was calm for the first time today after the library’s ordeal. “I wouldn’t be so sure about the good old-fashioned apothecary as I’m rarely ever here…” Fingers poked around through the cracked screen as her voice trailed off. Some parts of the place were peppered with metaphysical shops and farmers markets. Hopefully, something an easy tracing or sourcing spell can find. “But there has to be something somewhere. Maybe make a list and we could give it a shot tomorrow morning if you like. We'll be here for a while, so you don't have to rush.”
Leaving her post by the window, a low grunt left her as joints popped. No amount of moving or fighting can ever seem to silence that. “A more pressing problem, Spencer. Heading out this dark isn’t an option, I’m getting our dinner delivered here.”
“I’m eyeing pizza and chips for tonight. Maybe fried chicken on the side. What do you think?”
"Oh, at least you don't have to worry about drowning now. I may or may not have been secretly planning on turning you into a big beefy boy like me if you started dying." This was followed by a playful nudge from his snout into the mage's side.
Slowly but surely, the wingless drake made a full one-eighty turn on all fours once a newcomer was heard.
What in Poseidon’s name?
While far smaller than him in size, there was something eerily intimidating about this mystery man, especially with his unusual height compared to Spencer. Tempest wasn't phased at all but did have a strong feeling that this new being was not one to be taken lightly, who knows what tricks this being had up his sleeve. That had to be the case since he labeled them as intruders and felt strangely confident about barging in like this. Who messed up his face?
Turning his head back to Yuna, the sea drake began elaborating on why they were visiting.
“While swimming to the mainland I heard a massive roar. Not terribly long ago I met Spencer on accident when a giant tsunami struck. He told me about this almost mystical place called Nightwing where dragons ruled everything, but then they all died after some big war. I was just startled traveling with him, picked up Irrlith along the way, and- found an old ship that belonged to a close friend.
The big guy took a dive, only to come back and tell us he found the Water Nation. After talking about it, we both think a Leviathan or some other giant monster caused the tsunami. He pitches the idea that all three of us go look for the Water Nation in hopes we either find survivors, OR~ a way to kill the creature before it strikes again.
I myself wanted to find out if there were other water dragons still alive, because the last group I was with got scattered. Now I know the answer, on top of finding this lovely place still thriving.
I know my excuse might not be a good enough reason for barging in, but just like orcas: sea drakes are social, we’re not meant to live alone. But I did make at least one friend after getting torn away from a group of people that took me in.”
It was after this explanation that the azure-scaled predator diverted the subject so they could address the crisis that has yet to be discussed.
“So- while trying to find this place, some massive angler drake came out of nowhere and attacked the three of us before we lost ‘em. Is that monster the same one that caused the tsunami at the surface? Or are we dealing with something far worse? Regardless if it isn’t, what exactly was that monster anyway? And why did it chase us?”
The comment regarding the metaphorical needle in a haystack prompted a humored and agreeing snort in return. Raiya’s palms rested upon the table, and her weight was transferred onto those palms. The elven watched Spencer while he paced and spoke aloud about Chanook’s most possible whereabouts. All of those options made sense, all things considered. And yet, there were so many variables to take into consideration. Once the final suggestions were made, Raiya reached out to the hologram and tapped on the peaks that jutted above the rest
“The tallest peak is…” The final word trailed out into a tentative pause while the range zoomed in and became the prominent landform on the grid. Squares of text and flagged indicators popped up when the landform came into clearer view. “-- The Jebel Shams in Oman.”
Raiya then zoomed out of the map and worked silently for a few minutes to locate the general region where the raid had taken place. Once the area was found, she tapped on it, which created a thin red line that connected the mountain range to the place of Chanook’s prison. The route’s distance and other information appeared along with it in the form of a small text box.
“It’s still a ways away from where Chanook was being held, but he did have a few weeks head start to get around.”
Raiya brought the Jebel Shams range back as the prominent landform on the grid, then began to read through the descriptions that popped up on the hologram. The few moments of silence gave Spencer the opportunity to zoom in on whatever part of the mountain or the descriptions he wanted to, should he choose to. The peaks were close to a shocking 10,000 miles above sea level, with ravines and canyons that cut extraordinarily deep gashes through the layered stone. There were parts where the sheer width of the ravines formed dishes of vast spaces between the wall-like faces of the mountains, spaces that were surely wide enough to allow multiple dragons to fly through.
“Spence, this… this could be it.” Excitement was beginning to dawn upon her fixated expression, yet it was hesitant to fully rise. Something shifted suddenly, and with a quietly-uttered “hang on,” she frowned a bit and enlarged a line of text near the tallest peak.
“The highest summit of the Jebel Shams is home to a military base. It’s a restricted area. The second summit is open to the public as a trekking spot.”
Raiya’s face became incredibly blank for a few moments. “...So, we’re about to rescue a dire dragon on public land, right beside a military base full of those who are actively on alert. We have limited means of transportation, we have no allies, and you cannot use your mental link to find Chanook due to a magic detection veil they cast across this whole territory. Did I mention that bit already?”
Raiya’s fingers rose and rubbed the sides of her nose, then her face gradually slid into her hands. There was a tremor that rippled through her shoulders. Those were not sobs that spilled into her palms, but chuckles that were paced with exasperation and the sheer exhausted humor towards the impossible situation at hand. While a mask of unwavering strength had to be donned in the presence of the warlords, such a facade was unneeded in front of the ghost.
The soft laughter effortlessly tapered off into a groan, then a deep sigh as she pulled herself together and once more straightened. “This is going to be an adventure of a lifetime, isn’t it? Chanook is more than worth it. We’ll find him, but we’ll need a plan. Are you up for learning a bit of counter-magic once you’ve rested up a bit?”
“Only a matter of time before it broke out I guess.” Without much more to say on the matter other than speculating, it was something they’d only have to worry about for later. Now wasn’t the time for it.
Reluctantly so, the much smaller reptile plopped his head and neck back down in the spot her found in a little den of sand, closing his jade orbs. A few minutes or so were needed for him to dose off, requiring him not to keep thinking on that subject otherwise it’d keep him up all night.
. . .
It was the middle of a good dream when the chime had struck his ears, initially hearing it in his own little world until it brought him back into a state of consciousness.
At first, Tempest grumbled, reluctantly stirring and stretching all four limbs. His maw parted ways to let out a yawn, placing each talon on the surface below him, pushing himself up and off. By swaying his tail in a repeated side-to-side motion, he took off toward the temple, both jade green hues only partially opened with how abruptly this came.
When he arrived, an all-too-familiar merfolk lady was there to greet him, in which he promptly answered back. “Sounds important. Lead the way!” From that point on, said young drake followed her in by swimming initially, until gravity from the Temple shifted in a way that allowed him to walk on all fours instead.
During their trek inside, the large reptile took notice of and admired the fine works of art that were present. Interestingly, he eyed the one showing a fierce match between two serpentine beasts, which made him wonder if it tied in with the monster they had previously encountered. Might be a good idea to tell them about it when he got the chance since the Rider probably forgot.
“Spence!” Tempest greeted from a short distance away, the corners of his maw slightly elevated into a low smile since he was still somewhat sleepy. In order to acknowledge the other, he did the same with Yuna and addressed her in a casual manner. “Morning!” He said aloud, stopping a few feet short of the mage’s side. Dipping his head down, the sea drake questioned him about his mark. “What’s with the tattoo on your back? It’s glowing-”
After this, he moved his snout away and faced Yuna.
“You two wanted to see me for something?” He asked, expecting to hear something big since things were quiet upon arrival to this room, and who knows what they had been discussing since Tempest wasn’t around to hear it.
Immediately after posing his question, the mental note he made of the beast they encountered earlier struck him. “Would this be a bad time to mention we got into a fight with a big scary serpent that tried to kill us earlier near Vulcan’s corpse?”
"Hug huuug!" Said beanlett leaps into the Mage's chest with both arms spread out.
“I would assume that anything bigger than a person is going to put a massive strain on you, even worse for someone like me.” This made him place a servo under his pointed chin in thought, unable to think of a makeshift solution. They’d just have to come up with alternatives for now. “Well, I won’t ask you to kill yourself in trying to phase me through walls.”
After that, the large mech stepped around the holographic projector table until he was questioned once more, making him abruptly turn back. “Everything, yes. To my knowledge it’s been present on Earth for a long time, found on many worlds, and not just this one. Even other celestial bodies in your star system have it.” He explained, clarifying and confirming the man’s initial thoughts. Since knowing technology wasn’t his strong suit, Energon as a concept wasn’t a difficult concept to grasp thankfully.
Then came the issue of this mage being able to hold his own ground, which left the bot wondering- how could they make this an even playing field? More thought was given to the sword proposal, eventually perking up once an idea struck him, removing his own servo from his chin. “I can craft you a weapon, ideally something light enough for you to wield. Since we’re short on time, it’ll be hastily made until I can make you something a bit more high quality. Better get started.”
Not wanting to waste any time, Unity stepped over to the oversized workbench, activated a holographic touch screen, tapped a few buttons, gathered some hand tools, metal scraps, and opened what resembled some sort of 3-dimensional printer-like device. Without saying much, a tablet was fetched before going through a series of tabs, which brought up a drawing program. By connecting a cable from it to the back of his head, he was able to remotely sketch a blueprint in the device, forming what appeared to be something akin to a buster sword, but with various, intricate details on its exterior.
The next couple of hours would be spent further designing it on his tablet. Once the first phase was done, said Autobot got to work in supplying the Printer with the required material, which required multiple types of metal, very light amounts of refined Energon in a liquid state inside of fluid containers, and others. A lot of programming was done to prep it for production upon inputting the design, this rust bucket really knew what he was doing.
. . .
Alas, multiple hours later, there was a loud chime given off by the advanced Printer to signify its completion. Having been cycling through a few things on that same tablet during their spare time, the white mech stepped over to open its case, delicately lifting what was now a fractal-patterned Buster Sword, made largely from the material found on his own exterior. At the back of its handle was a button, whose purpose has yet to be explained. Thankfully the size was proportioned to be usable for someone of human size.
“Low and behold-”
Great care was given to what felt like an undersized knife to him, gently placing it in the palm of his servo, which was then lowered to Spencer’s height. He simply held it there, waiting for said man to claim what would be his first prize. This was a spectacle; the Mage was being given a weapon of Alien design, personally forged, Just. For. Him.
“Don’t get too excited and cut yourself.”
Should the man take it off his palm, Unity gave him a brief verbal rundown of its features. “The blade has laser edges when activated. It has a dual function: Pressing the button on the back triggers it.”
Should Spencer attempt to press it, that very sword would instantaneously transform, shifting all its components into a new shape. The result was a hefty energy-based rifle, single-round burst. “Headshots should insta-kill most Cybertronians. Don’t fire it in here though.”
Now that he was given some sense of direction on how to use it in combat, Unity made his way over to a control panel, typing in a string of numbers on a monitor screen.
In just a moment, the ringed tunnel suddenly ignited with a bright, white, and green glow, forming a portal-like opening at its end that illuminated the path leading to it. This was the Ground Bridge in its active state, which could theoretically take them anywhere in the world. Now that it was activated, he stepped out in front of it, expecting Spencer to join him.
A dual set of blasters, resembling SMGs were pulled from a nearby rack and held firmly in both servos. A glance was cast down at the white-haired male. “Ready?”
Spencer’s words found the woman who has, at some point, shifted into sitting on one of the rugs to rest her weary legs, the section of the floor before her occupied with sifted damp paperwork. The moment she glanced back up, Cassella caught the grin on his face. It wasn’t regarded with confusion, reasonable skepticism, or fear. If anything, it was of genuine interest, as if all this time, the old ghost was really just looking for anything to believe in, to grab onto for answers.
In a way, she found that contagious.
“I did live many lives, yes. I’ve lost many, and I’ll probably lose many more.” The answer was quite serene, almost whisper-thin. Whether it was because of how precarious this discussion was, or maybe with how carefully she was trying to peel off one page from the other, or a mixture of both, that was hard to tell. “But I believe my question here will be which self? Doctor, traitor, infiltrator– I’ve been many things, I still am– and there are things I ain’t forgetting any time soon. Some lives I recall in great detail like they’re a couple of minutes away with an outcome I can still change. The others, I can only remember in glimpses or in the traces of the magic I cast.”
“It’s a curse, really. One I’ve tried to break so many times~” There was acceptance to be had like it was now the next mundane thing in the assortment of all eldritch things that she harbored. For once, she wasn’t dismissing this at all, actually leaving room for thought without jesting.
Knowing the mage, that just probably roused more questions than answers. That seemed to be the running theme of this entire trip from the very beginning, both of them doing that to each other. His following words, however, made her glance back up to him so fast, might as well get a whiplash.
“Back in Nightwing?” she asked, blinking. That was the thing that made her pause. "I wouldn't be against that. I don’t think there’s any assignment lined for me so far and if there’s anything, someone else can take it off my hands for once.” Now that was her turn to suppress any sort of giddiness in her voice. This was Nightwing they were talking about, and she only heard watered-down myths. The rest of her House will kill just for the glimpse of it, and like a typical curious sorcerer that has fallen in way too deep, this was an invitation she will never say no to. “What is this thing that you speak of? Do you have any more grimoires like that?"
The idea of Marius hounding after anything more than what they already have now seemed like a headache enough. There was still the glaring question as to why he was so absorbed in taking that in the first place.
Cassella pursed her lips. “Say… what’s Nightwing like nowadays?”
“I remember visiting the very outskirts a few years ago when I first began my search. I never got far as I was called back for an emergency, but I met a girl…” The woman held out a hand as if intending to measure that diminutive height from memory. “She’s tiny, and she was alone. She seemed quite at home with the forest though, I didn’t know what has become of her. I just know I shouldn’t be too worried.”
Sobriety earmarks Raiya's expression while she listens to Spencer's explanation. Jawline fell into guided palm, while the other arm rested upon the table with the mug in hand.
"I see." A simple and contemplative reply. A sliver of silence was permitted as she took a sip of her coffee. When the mug was once more placed on the table, an afterthought followed; "Do you figure she's safe from him in the meantime?"
"Yes... Chanook." Her mind switched gears at the inevitable mention of the dragon. There was a plethora of topics that begged for discussion, each one seemingly just as important as the next as they tripped and stumbled and fought for center stage. Chanook was their priority. All other topics could wait. While the past tension had ebbed away over the last few days and thoughts became less divided, the elf was granted room for more rational thought.
"To put it briefly, I have my reservations. All we truly have to go on are the photos of the aftermath, the words of those we captured during the raid, and the words of some townsfolk - who, we later found out, had already been infiltrated by the enemy. Some things don’t add up, but the few things that do make it worth a try. The last thing I want to do is lead you into false hope.”
Raiya’s attention then shifted towards the few bags that rested near the cot. Scrutiny worked behind the scenes as she tried to remember where the desired item was placed. The elven rose from her seat and walked over to the bags, and it was there she squatted beside them and began her search. No luck in the first knapsack, yet the second one yielded results. Raiya withdrew a dark, cube-shaped contraption and walked back over to the table. She stood beside Spencer and placed the device on the center of the table. Light beeping sounded off as she tapped in a passcode along the smooth, black side.
"If it is Chanook- or, even a dragon of his breed, surely they'd travel to the nearest mountain range." It was needless to say that the desert was not an ideal habitat for a dire dragon of his kind. The thin edges of the cube emitted a green glow as approval was granted, and a small lens popped up from the top. Blue light blossomed from the scope, and blossomed outwards into thin blue lines that formulated a three-dimensional topographical map of the Middle-east and northeast African regions. The holographic map stretched about three feet in length, and a small red dot of their location was visible seemingly in close proximity to the Persian Gulf. Raiya extended a hand towards the glowing grid and zoomed in heavily towards the red dot. The holographic display became more and more detailed and three-dimensional the closer they drew to the intended region.
"The nearest range from where he escaped is the Al Hajar--" Raiya gestured with her finger towards a mountain range that stretched along the peninsula that touched the Arabian Sea. "--Many spots there are popular among tourists and hikers, but Chanook wouldn't have known that. Tourists may be quite vocal about spotting a dragon, so I've been keeping an eye out for media posts about sightings in the region. The latest reports happened several weeks before Chanook's alleged escape. There has not been anything else since."
"Unfortunately for us--" Raiya double- tapped one starting point of the mountain range, and then again on the ending side. The range became highlighted in yellow, and the contraption zoomed in until it showed exclusively the Al Hajar range in all of its three-dimensional detail. A list of statistics hovered above the range, displaying the name of the location, the coordinate ranges, and overall dimensions. "--The entire Al Hajar range is well over four-hundred miles long, over sixty miles wide, and almost ten-thousand feet above the sea level at its highest peak."
She had already resigned herself to the daunting task ahead, that notion was evident in her voice and that weary expression variegated into eyes of blue. It was without a doubt that both of their energy reserves had been close to depleted by the treks that had only recently concluded. Traveling through a desert mountain range in enemy territory was a feat that was exhausting to even ponder over. But by the gods, it would be worth it if it meant bringing an old friend to safety.
"What sort of elevation or habitat did Chanook prefer? Was he moreso a top-of-the-mountain type, or did he have any inclinations towards ravines, caves or canyons?"
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