Thread: Once, We Touched The Clouds (Ghost_kitty & Erit of Eastcris)

He hated caves like this one, dank and damp and full of moss. The lightless hole-in-the-ground he found himself spelunking through was moist and abuzz with insects, the lichen beneath his high brown boots squelching in a disquieting fashion with every step. Thank heavens they were somewhat new and lacked holes by which moisture or chitin could intrude on his tread such thoughts flitted through Autrin Velic's mind as he navigated the winding cavern, the light of his lantern pooling at his feet and warding away the worst of the bugs, his other hand heavy with the weight of his spear, a hefty creation forged solidly of iron from tip to butt. Autrin hated caves like this one, but he dredged it nonetheless seeking to plunder the lost wealth of the temple residing at the bottom of it, the hieroglyphs lining the walls assuring him that this was the place where, far below the surface, he could find the old Dekieri altar, and there he could potentially find a mighty haul of trinkets in gold and silver and the strange, flowing metal that looked like liquid moonlight. Of course, the Dekieri had disappeared long ago, their oligarchy and empire crumbling as if overnight many speculated it was some grand catastrophe that drove them from power, scholars having translated the most recent of their writings as epitaphs for their nation in the face of the apocalypse. Their gods were dead, the writings said, and soon the Dekieri would join them. Autrin wasn't interested in stuffy old men with their noses in books, however he was after loot and treasure, ransacking abandoned locales to pay for his comfortable lifestyle. It was for that reason he picked his way down through the stone as quickly as he dared, wary of traps and of treacherous footing. He couldn't very well strike it rich if this place struck him low first. Eventually, the spelunker found himself at the end of the interminable descent, and even here the moss and bugs marred what once had been a grand hallway. Autrin didn't care much, however, barely glancing at the ruins of what had been large, intricately-carved archways and painstakingly-wrought pillars, only caring for the altar at the far end of the hall. It was upon those plinths that his prizes sat, glittering and gleaming in the light of his lantern with the promise of a good meal that night. A low whistle passed his slender, swarthy lips as his heels clicked upon the exposed rock and squelched elsewhere. The necklaces, rings, crowns and coins upon the altar disappeared into the sack he held in the same hand as his spear, the lantern being placed on an empty plinth while the treasure hunter scavenged his winnings. As the precious metal and gems disappeared, however, they revealed a far more interesting prize a stone, blood-red and polished to a mirror shine, the size of his two fists put together. His outstretched hand recoiled at first, the stone unexpectedly hot to the touch not enough to scald, but certainly an uncomfortable surprise. Taking the stone and packing it into his bag along with the other items, he presumed someone somewhere would pay a pretty penny for such an oddity. He also took the stone tablet which was propped up behind it, as well, knowing certain scholars would happily divest themselves a comely ransom in exchange for such things most of the time. If he couldn't find buyers, well... they were only rocks with fancy scribbling to him, and if nothing was ventured then nothing could be gained. Sometimes, he figured, you struck out. Having found what he was looking for, though, Autrin was quick to take up his light once more and scarper with his riches, beating a hasty retreat from the cave before sun set in the world above and hurriedly trampling through the forest the Dekieri were devious in their booby-traps, some of which only activated when the sun went down, and Autrin had no intention of being caught by them or by the creatures which prowled the woods at night. His pace slowed when he met the road, though, turning into a more even lope rather than the rushed jog he had maintained up to that point. It was with that even lope that the tall, slender man with his solid iron spear, lantern and bag of loot made his way back to the nearby town of Errest, where he spent the evening modestly not one to count his chickens before they hatched, as it were, Autrin didn't see sense in frittering away his money on the tenuous promise that his pickings from the temple would make back the money in good time. The next morning he planned to spend perusing the town, bag in hand, attempting to cash in his loot for a good price. But as was normally the case with plans, life had different ideas. This time in particular, it had very different ideas awakening to the sound of creaking steel, Autrin shot awake and out of his bed in the small town's singular inn, spear in hand as his bare feet hit the floor. The grey light of pre-dawn providing sparse enough illumination that he had to squint to truly make out much. The sound repeated again, more agitated this time a motion in the dark caught his eye. Wait, he thought was... was the sound coming from inside his bag? Immediately he pulled open the drawstring and spilled forth the contents in as controlled a fashion as he could, the treasures falling in a nice little pile with the stone an tablet atop it. And again, the sound came, alongside a shudder in the blood-hued rock. It nearly glowed with heat, the air around it noticeably hotter for its efforts. Then, with the sound of shattering glass, a crack split the surface of the stoneno, by now it was clear this was no stone. It was an egg of some description, and as it split apart to reveal the creature within Autrin was quick to bundle the thing in the blanket hastily torn from his bed. A confused squawk protested his efforts, a scaled head peeking out from the nest of cloth and staring Autrin in the eyes. Of course, he didn't recognize the creature before him. No one in that world would, readily at any rate, for what stood before him was supposed to be many millenia extinct. But as evidenced by the appearance of the creature before Autrin, the Dragons, old gods of the Dekieri, were not all gone. What... what are you supposed to be? Inquired the oblivious hunter of the newborn creature before him. He sighed, knuckling his forehead, What am I even doing? It probably can't speak... But still, what are you?