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The zombies pushed would simply fall over. Without direct orders they were just mindless husks. They had strength of numbers and the speed with which to use but they would merely either fall or stumble out of the way. There weren't so many as there were when Thurkear has summoned them crushed or sunk into the drying earth left bare by Thurkear's miasma.

He could see them now. Not by moon light but in the absence of it. Wolves. He wasn't a fan of wolves, then he'd only had so many run ins with the canine breed. The island he grew up on did not have them. The dragon did not move merely curled its tail lazily over his left leg again mindful of their presence.

"Oh you can stop stalking us now. I can smell you, feel your air and if would kindly stop shoving my corpses I would very much appreciate it." Thurkear would call to them finally ordering the host of shamblers back to the swamp where he had called them. The horde would move together back in the direction of the mountains. He could see it from where he sat. Odd that he wasn't feeling homicidal.

If Thurkear has eyebrows he would have arched them. Boas comment even drew a laugh from the dragon,"Quite so it seems, either way believe what you will, my kin have been labeled many things, evil is simply one of them."

"Also, the unfortunate truth is I have no idea of the dragons from which you hail. Your patterning seems to suggest that of the golden dragons, but you have not raised your claws in righteous fury nor have to tried to burn me with sunlight. Your color suggests a mixed breed, and I can not place your scent. Where I come from the dragons are very much thriving. With magic being shoved in the human's faces they can't ignore it. There 14 kinds of dragons each catergorized by a color or name given to the species over centuries. Each with an average life span of about 2000 years. I am rather young myself though I do not refer to myself as such, at 560 ...or was it 572?" He ponders the question before stating, "Your age would be important in their society, not your stature, nor your height. Wisdom usually means age in dragons because to have survived so long you must at least know something worth keeping you alive."

Thurkear chuckles, "And I yammer like the elders do. Boas, you seem to be gaining some semblance of sanity, what do you know of dragons?"



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[quore="izardman ((mummyman3))"[/quote]
CedarTreeofLife

NPC(s): Twinkle

Twinkle sneers, brandishing his sword in Alex's direction, "No dream, I'm afraid, how unfortunate for you." Without any fan fare twinkle's form shimmers and shrinks in hail of golden dust and he's the size of a doll again giving the boy the air he needs for the moment. He zips forward towards the stunned teen before thrusting his weapon towards the his eyes.

"Now hold still." The point of his sword is just small enough to pierce Alex's eye. He is angry that it is his sister who has faded and he uses that to drive the point through before twisting the sword, barbed on the ends and rips the boy's eye from its socket. Despite any screaming, or pain on the human's part the pixie would grin and giggle before turning to the back of the stage. The surrounding crowd cheers and claps for the performance thinking the human a pleasant part of the proceedings.

Shaza takes some quick steps from Arcana's side and the power holding its place within her spills into the crowd. Rejuvenating some while others fall over asleep in a happy haze. Those asleep are quickly moved or simply cease to be seen among the gathering. "The pixie's have made their final offering." She breaths reaching over to grab a hold of Alex, worry dotting her features.

Twinkle does a little victory hop in the air to their viewers "We offer this so that we may carry on into the next year! Power given, power recieved! We move onto the last set. The funerals. Our old homes, we will never forget, we never forget! The grove that sits between us and them, our fallen. We mourn!"

"We remember!" the crowd replies.
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While the festival continues, the doors open, the sky returns to that moon bright of purgatory.

The gates have opened to allow people free movement. The air is crisp, cool autumn. Those who have seen the summer winds fall to sleep among the trees. Faerie is diminished here. And the last part of the festival is underway. Not everyone leaves but some portion of the older patrons fill into the alleyways. The streets are still crowded but there is a marked difference from the before.

Just beyond the library, past the south gate, a passageway has opened up. It leads into the ruins of old Nswono. Where once there had been a great city these are the remnants of what it used to be. destroyed landscape, broken house, uprooted cobblestone streets and graves. Graves mark odd places where bodies could not be. Names, many names, liter the ground around those who walk the paths. In the last war with the inhabitants here in Purgatory Nwsono lost more than a little of their people, and they lost some of their power with it.

[The gates are now open. The festival is still technically underway but for those of you would were trapped, you are now free to leave if you wish and those outside can come in as well. I'll still be posting as if the festival is still going but otherwise this is pretty much the end of it. Sorry this didn't catch on as much as I'd hoped. xD Not really much to say after all that. ]

tab Location: Nswono, On the stage
tab Thoughts: WTF?!
tab Company: Alex, Shaza, Twinkle
tab OOC/OST: Will

Even though he was being offered help, Alex just laid there in silence, despite the tears coming forth, and the occasional sniffing, though he nearly outright told them 'he doesn't need anyone's help'. Thanks to him, the stage was in an awkward silence.

His eye, the one he still had, looked up to the women, examining them. He must have looked pitiful. Despite his best efforts, he could not see their 'energy'. It was so useful, he could have seen if they were sincere with their feelings. Weird. He'd just forgotten entirely what it was he was thinking about, that let him search their feelings...

He was torn between deciding to tell them off, so that he could deal with his own problems, or to accept their help. When given more thought, he may have no choice but to get help. But his own pride got in the way of saying yes.

The blood continued to pour through the gaps in between Alex's fingers, and spilled over the stage. It wasn't long until Alex stopped moving, being knocked out from the loss of blood, blacking out.

Sanity:
▉▉▉▉▉ 55%

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Ңσρє

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ylyngpmfvKc
sυғғєʀɪηɡ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBlaWzMiZYw
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTHX1EhorHI

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Kalani Zimmerman

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