The Quest for the Dragon

In a faraway land built by the principles of science and magic, a group of priests makes a valiant effort in their dying moments. With no one to turn to, they summon a group of warriors from other worlds - but there's a slight problem. With the priests dead, there's no clear explanation for why those warriors have been brought to this other world. They'll have to embark on a quest to figure out how to get home.

As they continue the journey, a goal finally becomes clear - they need to slay a genetically engineered dragon. But fighting the dragon is just the ending, and they'll have to get through an entire adventure before they can get back to their homes.

Spoiler

Tagging everyone in the workshop! Don't join if you don't want to, but feel free to if you're interested!

@Elinor, @LordWolf, @TinkerTwaggy, @Featherstone, @Riellehn, @TheMulticoloredCyr, @fraey, @EternalRain, @hiraeth, and @Coffeeism.

Spoiler

Here's my characters!

Magestorrow Rian: I'm just going to steal a description from a roleplay he's been in, since it's pretty good at capturing his appearance. The main difference is that his horns and tails are hidden underneath a tan cloak.

He was taller than his wooden body had been, and noticeably a bit more sturdy in build. His hair - barely going down to his chest - was a brilliant shade of red, and had a certain sheen to it that made it appear to be on fire. His eyes were black. Save for the horns and the tail that gently swayed behind him, there was nothing else black about his appearance. His clothing were all in light shades - the tunic was a light red, the pants were tan, and his boots were a light brown.

Knightare: I'll steal his description from the same roleplay I stole Mage's from. The only things not included is the sword he has in the sheath at his side, and how he's shorter than Mage.

He was slightly smaller than his wooden body had been, with noticeably lean limbs. His eyes were a startling shade of gold - unsurprising, given that he was a dragon - and his hair mostly matched that shade, save for the occasional black highlight. His long hair was thrown up in a low ponytail. He wore all black: a black tunic, black pants, high black boots, fingerless black gloves that went past his elbows and a long, black cape.

Both Mage and Knight are in their early twenties.

He was standing in the ruins of a town.

He wildly spun around - they had been on their way back to the castle. He had seen in the distance over the treetops. He had just been about to make a comment to Knight about how close they were when he suddenly found himself here instead. His mind flashed back to the ruins of her house. It had been nearly a decade since then, but he felt just as small and helpless as he had then when he returned to that memory-

"Mage?"

Knight was standing near some of the ruins. He took a deep breath, pushing past the memory to walk to his side.

"Do you know where we are?" Knight asked.

He shook his head. "I've never seen these ruins before. You haven't either, have you?"

"Wherever we are, it's not near the castle," he said. He saw movement underneath his cloak; Knight's hand was hovering over the hilt to his sheathed sword. "Someone must have brought us here."

Mage gave a small smile underneath his cloak. "At least we're in our own bodies this time."

"...Yeah," Knight admitted. He paused, his expression uncertain as he glanced around the ruins. "...Do you think there's..." He bit his lip, took a deep breath, and the timidly asked, "...g-ghosts here?"

He looked around again.

"I don't know," he said. "But I'll scare them off with my flames if they are here, or hide us away in my darkness."

Knight let out a quiet laugh. "...You don't even know if that'll work."

He grinned. "It's a worth a shot, though, isn't it?"

Spoiler

Cornyx Blackthorne: At a towering 6' 5", Cornyx's build is a lithe--if strong--one. Dark eyes that could only be described as somewhere between the black and the deepest of blues peer out from an otherwise pale countenance, and shoulder-length ebon hair that's pulled back into a ponytail frames his face. A few streaks of white are evident, but not from age. The man himself only appears to be in his twenties, or perhaps his early thirties. His attire consists of a pale, silver-gray suit that is almost white and an icy blue tie, silver crow-skull cufflinks on his wrists. A sword the color of a raven's wing hangs at his hip, gemstones glimmering in the pommel and handguard. They change color depending on the angle such that they may appear red one moment and blue the next.

Apophis: A man of average height, with dark skin and dreadlocks that are pulled back in a braid down his back. His eyes are a deep amber that will change to a glimmering gold when his powers are cued, and a bone hoop hangs in his left ear. His attire is considerably less modern than Cornyx's and reminiscent of the Egyptians, with naught but a knee-length skirt and sandals. A slender, bone blade is strapped on his left thigh.
Note: to those of you who know Apo, yes, this is the same Apo. Later in the timeline she switches vessels to a male vessel and she goes back to being a man. She, as usual, has an alternate form, and that will be described if/when she separates from her vessel later in the rp.

"Then just kill him, Jabril," the man droned, plainly bored if the monotone of his voice was anything to judge by. "Either he's useful or he's not. If he's not, he's a liability, and you know my feelings about liabilities."

His fingers tapped idly against the pale hue of his throne, frost shimmering across its marble surface and alighting over the intricate engravings. The same gray stone made up the dais the throne sat upon as well as the floor and vast columns of the vaulted chambers that surrounded him, all covered in the light webbing of the aptly-named Winter King's ice. The man who stood before him was of considerably slighter stature than his liege and was dressed in much simpler attire, jeans and a thick brown flannel that was practical for the keeper of the hounds. Small, twin horns butted out from umber curls and a deep red tail waved in the air behind the man with a long metal blade strapped to it. It didn't look like much, but properly used, such a weapon could be deadly.

His gaze dropped to the floor and there was a moment of hesitation before he answered the man before him. Although crownless, Cornyx Blackthorne was most certainly king, and even Jabril understood the consequences to disobedience and insolence. "With all due respect, your Majesty, I believe he could be of use despite his current...standing."

The king's gaze was threaded with silver as it slid over to the man before him. His tone was cold, and it was evident the demon before him was walking on thin ice, but he dipped his head nonetheless. "Elaborate."

"The one known as Apophis, sire...she requires a vessel, does she not? This one presents himself as an ideal candidate. He is strong of body, and swift, yet weak of mind. He is human--and indigenous to this world--which means that, in this vessel, they would blend in much better. I know that the last vessel was female, but Apophis has taken male vessels many times over in the past. Thus, I believe Apophis could take him to anchor her corporeal form."

The silence stretched for several moments, long enough to cause the houndmaster to begin to question his judgement, before the Winter King finally replied. "Very well. Send for her, and bring that man back here so we may do as we must."



The brilliant flash of light, the tremor of the earth, and the shuddering of the ancient columns that held the ceiling aloft were all very familiar to Cornyx. What followed, however, was not, for when he opened his eyes and the spots faded away, he wasn't gazing at a newly-bound demon standing in the center of his hall. It wasn't the demon that had changed--that would've been strange enough, if still acceptable. Rather, it was his surroundings. No longer was the Winter King standing in his throne room standing atop frozen stone. Now, the soles of his shoes pressed against ash and the twisting branches of trees met his gaze, rising above the cracked and ruined stone that lay scattered about. The remnants of once-great structures towered about him.

"I would suggest explaining. Promptly." Despite his words, the statement was anything but a suggestion directed at the shirtless man before him, and his tone was icy.

Before he could answer, however, the sound of voices caught his ears and he turned. Several yards away, two men stood, one with golden hair that wore all black and the other had bright red hair and a tan cloak.

And one of them--the first one--was very, very familiar.

He'd really hoped never to remember the entire Snow White escapade. Yet, here, in front of him, stood the very Prince Charming that had kissed him. He cringed at the thought, and although his mind lingered on the memory for a moment longer than it should've, he shook it off and cleared his throat to announce his presence instead as he strode forward and gestured for Apophis to fall in behind him. The demon did as she--no, he--was bidden, eyes glimmering with an unnatural gold hue.

"Knightare," he greeted with a dip of his head. "It's a pleasure to see you again." His tone was, as always, cool, but the usual indifference was tempered by something that even Cornyx was unaware of. Something more...human.

Heat rose to his cheeks when he heard the familiar voice. It was impossible to tell how long it had been for him, but it had only been a handful of years since then. And it was a little hard to forget about someone he had kissed, even if that had been to finish that story and not because he had honestly wanted to do it.

Although, at the time, he had thought that Cornyx was very good-looking.

But now his red cheeks were from embarrassment at the memory and not the thought of having kissed him, and it wasn't as hard as it could have been for Knight to get out of his stupor.

"Hi, Cornyx," he managed to get out. "It's good to see you again, too."

Mage crossed his arms and peered at him from underneath his cloak. The gesture might have come off as intimidating, but the slight tilt of Mage's head was all that Knight needed to know that he was thinking. "I've heard that name before..." he muttered, glancing between Cornyx and Knight. "Is his name Cornyx Blackthorne?"

"It is," Knight confirmed. He paused and stared. "How did you know?"

He bet Mage was grinning underneath his hood, fangs glinting in the light. "I remember Janos mentioning him when talking about the time he had to reenact stories - and he was the one that you kissed, wasn't he? The other dragon?"

"What-How-" Knight stammered. "Janos told you about that?"

"Of course he did," Mage said, a little bit of pride to his voice. "I begged him for all of the details back then - I didn't let him leave the room until he had told me everything."

Before Knight could get in another word, Mage had turned back to Cornyx. Knight could see it in his posture - he was absolutely beaming underneath that cloak. "Can you tell me about your kind of dragon?" he begged. "I know all about our kind of dragon, but you're from another world. You can change forms like Knight does, but do you have any other abilities?"

Hearing the excitement in Mage's voice made a wave of calmness wash over Knight; with Mage acting like his usual self, the situation seemed all the less daunting.

The look on Apophis' face at the mention of his king and the man across from them kissing was first surprised, then amused, and, finally, inquisitive as he cast his gaze towards the white-cloaked dragon in question. The scathing glare he received upon making eye contact spoke more than any of the man's cold words could, and the demon didn't bother asking. He did, however, relax as he recognized that these two were anything but a threat.

Cornyx might've protested at the details being shared but he chose to remain silent and keep his dignity even if his pride had been injured. Though, if one wanted to be accurate, Knightare had kissed him--and not the other way around. Even though he wouldn't have been oppo-

He cut that thought off and answered Mage with an even voice, omitting the fact that shape-changing was an ability of changelings and not of dragons. "We are called Nyx," he replied, "although I'm the last of our kind. Mostly I can manipulate the cold. Ice, temperature, those sorts of things." His attention turned back to Knight as he finished the short reply. It was never wise to disclose too much information about what he could do, for it allowed for planning and preparation. Cornyx had learned that much in his time as king.

"But where are my manners? Both of you, this is Apophis. Apophis, Knightare and...Well. I don't believe we've been introduced." His tone was crisp, cool, and clear, devoid of emotion and that momentary lapse into humanity that had been displayed moments ago as he addressed Knightare.

Cornyx almost reminded him of Janos - or, rather, the Janos that Mage had met years ago. There was the same coldness there, but Janos had always been...more than that. It had taken years for Mage to realise that the fallen angel had never been as emotionless as he had seemed to be, but it had been there.

Cornyx, on the other hand?

The cold felt much different than Janos's did.

"My name's Mage," he offered, extending a hand out from the depths of his cloak. "It's short for Magestorrow Rian."

He gave a smile that Cornyx couldn't see but could hear in his voice, even though the friendly smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes. He couldn't remember if Cornyx knew who Knight really was or not, but, regardless, he didn't want to be pushed to the side.

But he didn't have to be outright confrontational - he'd be his friendly, eager self, and embrace the acting he had always excelled since he was a kid.

"Mage is my boyfriend," Knight added.

Spoiler

Queenie Ringly: An angelic girl with a face wreathed in golden curls that fall into the crystal blue eyes of a fairy tale princess and brush the bottom of her neck. Her pale skin is dotted with the faintest of freckles and adorned, subtly, with gold jewelry. She wears custom-fitted clothes, a green t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of red combat boots -all made to store and conceal weapons flawlessly. She is of small stature and curvy physique, but that isn't to say that she isn't muscular. She is a perfectly capable gymnast and fighter, and she looks it, though one would have to look closely.

Megara Valac: Queenie's double in every way save clothing and accent. Megara wears much more medieval garb in the form of a grey fur-lined cloak secured to her by black leather straps that crisscross over her chest to prevent it from choking her. She has a set of throwing knives strapped on her leg and a sword at her hip as her only visible weapons.
Also of note are the two rings of gold that wrap around her right bicep, connected by crisscrossing black thread.

Megara was not looking forward to explaining this.

"Who the hell are you?!" the other girl demanded. In Megara's voice. From Megara's mouth.

She blinked.

"I could ask you the same," she said cooly. Her tone was fake, but the other girl had to be too. A vision. An illusion.

Her double crossed her arms, "What world are you from?" She had gained a sense of self-control nearly instantaneously, mirroring Megara's tone perfectly. If it wasn't for the girl's strange accent, the voice would have been a perfect reflection.

Megara mirrored her stance, "So you think I'm not from here?"

"You look just as lost as I am."

Megara narrowed her eyes, "That doesn't mean anything. Maybe I've lost my way in the woods."

The other girl rolled her eyes, "Yeah, right. Why do you look exactly like me?"

"I think you mean you look like me."

The other girl shook her head, "I mean exactly what I said."

Megara was going to respond, then she spotted something behind the other girl. People. She cast one last look at her double before walking right past. This clearly wasn't a helpful conversation. The others ought to have more useful information. Either that, or she could just kill them and move on.

The other girl turned around to watch her, then seemed to get the same idea, coming up behind Megara and saying, "You don't get in my way, I won't kill you."

Megara glared, "Make it mutual."

The double smirked, "Deal."

They approached the group, Megara pulling up her hood to hide the fact that they were identical. That particular mystery could wait.

"Hi!" the other girl greeted with an undeniably friendly demeanor, "I'm a little lost, do any of you happen to know where this is," she gestured vaguely to their surroundings.

Megara kept her body language non-threatening as she hung back a few steps. She didn't know the other girl, but for the moment they were allies. If her cover story needed validation, Megara would oblige. For now, anyway.

The sharp-toothed smile that Cornyx returned was no more authentic than Mage’s. Magestorrow Rian. He took note of that, tucking it away in the back of his mind. Apophis watched from where he stood a couple feet to the side. The artificial nature of the interaction hardly escaped him but he was used to such things by now. He’d been the instigator of many such encounters, after all, and his job wasn’t to be a diplomat. He was here as muscle, to carry out the will of the man he’d once called prey and now called king.

Before Cornyx could speak another word, though, two women who appeared to be nothing short of twins approached. Both had blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, though their attire differed, one wearing a thick cloak and the other dressed in jeans, bright boots, and a green shirt. The inquiry that fell upon his ears echoed the one that had almost certainly been drifting through all their minds: where were they, exactly? Or, perhaps more importantly, why were they here?

If the last few instances Cornyx had found himself in, wherein he’d appeared spontaneously in another world, he guessed that neither one would be answered promptly and a lot of bizarre encounters were sure to come.

“No,” he replied, “and I dare say none of the others present do, either. They why and how are likely equally unanswerable. My name is Cornyx Blackthorne, by the way. This is Apophis, Magestorrow, and Knightare,” he gestured to each of them in turn.

"Queenie," she said, looking him up and down.

Megara made no move to introduce herself. She simply tugged the edge of her cloak so it better covered the bands on her arm. She was acutely aware of what she was missing back home, and what her punishment would be for doing so. No explanation would save her from that.

She pushed the thought from her head and focused on her double, who now had a name. Queenie. At least they weren't identical in that regard, but why were they the same in nearly every other way? Could Queenie fight like Megara could? She hoped not. If she had to take this girl out she didn't want to have trouble doing so.

Knight studied the two girls who had appeared. Only one had offered up her name. He might have offered up an alias himself, if Cornyx wasn't here and hadn't already introduced him. It was hard to tell if these two - and anyone else who would probably appear - were from his own world, and if they would recognize the name Knight. Even Mage's name might be recognizable, though it wouldn't be nearly as bad if he was the people recognized.

But not saying her name only drew attention to her, and Knight had to wonder why someone would do something like that.

What weight did her name carry?

"You can call us Mage and Knight," Mage cheerfully added. "That's what we usually go by. And Cornyx is right - we don't know how we ended up here, or where here even is. But Knight and I have been in situations like this before, so all we have to do is wait for some kind of explanation."

"Or other people," Knight finally said, breaking out of his train of thought to rejoin the conversation. "I have a feeling that we won't be the only ones to appear in these ruins."

Spoiler

Only doing one character, since this is my first role-play and all.

Azi Sulet: In his late twenties, his entire appearance suggests the need to blend in; he's of average build and average height, with brown hair and brown eyes. He wears simple woolen clothing, a dark green in color, over which is some leather gear (tunic, gauntlets, greaves) all of which are well worn from frequent travel and infrequent washings. There are some things of note, however; around his waist is a belt, which has the scabbard for his sword, a holster for what appears to be an engraved flint-lock pistol, and three other things; a pouch with multiple leather pieces, a small engraved wooden circle, and a small engraved metal square. Additionally, there is a larger piece of metal attached to his right arm, also engraved, and a bow and quiver over one shoulder (note; the flintlock will not be used by him for... reasons, so that's why I assumed it would be alright to bring along)

It was done. All of his decisions in life had brought him to this end; and what a sweet end it was.

He brought his flintlock, a gift he had been given long ago, level with the middle man's chest. Its emblems seemed darker than usual, though that may have been his imagination. As he placed his finger on the trigger, he closed his eyes, wanting to savor the moment.

When he opened them, he did not see the inside of a fortress. He did not see the seven parts of his goal, he didn't see anything but ruins. For a moment, he was confused; how did he get here? Where were the Seven? The grip on the flintlock tightened as confusion turned to a brief moment of fear; the ruins of towns never bode well for him. However, fear swiftly turned to rage as he realized that once more, he had failed in his goal. He had come so close, only to be torn away too...this place. Whatever this place was.

He looked around as he tried to calm himself, mostly unsuccessfully, and saw a group of people gathering. He shoved the flintlock into its place as his other hand went to the piece of metal on his belt. He would get answers, and he didn't care how he got such answers.

Spoiler

I might as well try to sneak in with two characters of my own.

I changed their names because I want to try something different, but their characters aren't too changed from then. ^^

Donel: In his late 20s, currently works as a bartender, so he's pretty well-versed with people trying to trick him out of paying or being older than they are. His usual attire is a simple uniform of a dark-colored button-down shirt and black jeans. He's got light brown hair and gray eyes. Donel spends most of his time reading, through either fictitious fantasy novels or non-fictional history books.

Raymind: In his early 20s, is the assistant bartender to Donel on most shifts. Still a little innocent/naive in matters of dealing with employees, but he's learning a lot from his superior. His usual attire is a little more casual, with jean shorts and a buttoned shirt with a few galaxies scattered across it. He's got dyed blond hair and dark brown eyes. Raymind spends a majority of his free time online and writing stories.

In their previous roleplay, both were cursed to be able to shapeshift into another form. I'm not quite sure if that will apply here, but I guess I'll see.

Donel couldn't say that he expected something like this happening, but he wasn't too surprised. If the forced transformation was labeled a gift by magical beings, then sudden teleportation didn't seem too far off from the realm of possibility.

The fact that he now stood at the base of a fallen apart city captivated him for a few seconds. Donel breathed out slowly, trying to place where he could be now. He had been talking with Raymind about the new kind of food they could put on the menu until his surroundings had melted away before him, and the next thing he knew he was standing here of all places.

He heard a gasp behind him. Donel spun around to see Raymind of all people with his back turned. The younger man looked the same as he had during their conversation, besides his blond hair left ruffled in some way.

"Raymind?" Donel called out. "Is that you, kid?"

His coworker jumped, turning around to meet his gaze. At first glance, the other's eyes were wide with shock, until Ray walked towards him and swung him into a hug. Donel slung his arms around him happily and squeezed back tightly.

"What was that?" Ray muttered into his chest, stepping away after a few close seconds. "All I knew was you were there, an' the world's spinnin' all around."

"I don't know. Last time something magic-based happened I turned into a snake." Donel felt helpless, glancing at the near-graveyard that was their temporary home. "Do you think there might be other people here?"

Raymind shrugged. "I guess we might as well see, huh? And hopefully, there aren't any more bursts of animal shapes everywhere."

"Yeah." Donel grabbed his coworker's hand for a second to support them both. "I guess we should look around."

After a few minutes of walking through old pieces of rock and building blocks, he noticed a few people standing somewhat close to each other, all in various forms of clothes. That seemed like a good start.

Megara noticed three newcomers at, apparently, the same time Queenie did.

Queenie's eyes merely flitted between the group of two and the one walking alone before she focused back on the group.

"I've been in situations like this too," Queenie said, "I admit, I'm not to happy to be away from home again."

Megara knew her own tells. She'd been trying to abolish them for years now.

Apparently, Queenie also shared those with her. The way that she tapped subtly on the side of her leg when she claimed to be distressed at being away from home marked it as a lie.

Megara frowned. That wasn't good. Not at all.

She shook those thoughts from her head and joined the conversation, "So all of you know each other?" she gestured to the group they met initially.

Magestorrow, Knightare, Queenie, the one who looked like Queenie but hadn't the manners to introduce herself, two modern-looking individuals in what seemed to be a uniform, and yet another medieval-looking dude with a flintlock. That was the team he was doomed to be a part of. Cornyx bit back a sigh. There was no hope of getting back home soon, was there? He was less annoyed by the fact he wouldn't be back in somewhere familiar than the fact that this meant he would have to one, work together, and, two, forfeit most of his power. In this group, his title, his name, meant nothing.

And that bothered him immensely, especially after the lengths he'd gone to in order to obtain such power.

Alas, there was naught to be done for it. At least he still had Apophis backing him--and despite his inability to enforce his orders here, the demon would obey, out of lust for power if nothing else. His and Apophis' relationship was a stringent one, but so long as it stayed mutually beneficial, he was unconcerned about betrayal.

He rested his wrist on the pommel of the broadsword, leaning his weight into one hip as he watched the group congregate. Had he been feeling generous, he might've introduced everyone again, but as it was, he didn't feel the urge to stoop that low twice in one afternoon. Afternoon? His gaze flickered up to the sky, where the sun hung off to one side. It could as easily be late morning as early as early afternoon, seeing as no one had a compass.

As the others gathered, he slid his hand into his pocket and withdrew the silver pocketwatch that always accompanied him. A quarter to three--that was, at least, the time back home. On Earth.

Any hint of melancholy that he might've felt years ago barely touched him now. He'd gone too far to even think about going back--that much had been established the moment he'd run Mikael through with a spike of ice and tricked the former comrades of Silberfuchs to leave Hell to its own devices.

Apophis' gaze swept over to his master's, but he said nothing, merely observed. He'd never been a man of many words. For now, he'd merely follow his king's lead, and see where that brought them.

Spoiler

Welcome to the roleplay, guys!

"Cornyx and I met in a situation like this before," Knight answered, casting a glance at the man in question. "I've never met Apophis, and Mage has never met either one of them - he just knows of Cornyx thought a mutual friend of ours."

Mage suddenly threw his arm around Knight and pulled him close.

"And Knight's my boyfriend," he added. He rested his hooded head on Knight's shoulder; more of his almost fiery hair slipped out from underneath his hood, but he didn't mind. The hair wasn't what he was trying to hide - it was everything else. "I think our two year anniversary is coming up soon?"

"Next month," Knight confirmed. A small smile graced his lips, making the one on Mage's face only grow bigger. If Knight was happy, he was happy.