Thick mist crept along the solid, grime covered stone. The falls whispered a constant lullaby as the moons glossy shards of pearl barley sliced its way through fog, reaching desperately for gravities pull. Josette slowly unbuckled her leather boots, slipping a graceful leg into the water, testing its cool temperature on her sweat glistening skin. Her clothing was already damp from the air-born dew droplets, so the elf maiden dove head first into the deep, gothic pool of midnight. She surfaced, a relaxed smile on her face, curls flattened and pasted to her tan skin, long arms and legs circling to keep her head adrift the ripples.
Josette hadn’t noticed her trouble filled companion. Yellow eyes, barley at the surface, glared at her from beneath the tiny wavelets, disappearing into the gloom. The creature tugged at the poor girl’s ankle, nearly snapping it two with its mass strength. Josette gasped in sudden pain and went under. Eyes wide and filled with terror, her assailant’s devilish face loomed before her, its horrid features filled with cocky malice revealing that it’s only intentions were to drown her for pure entertainment.
She kicked at it; movements dulled by the suffocating water, and cursed her ignorance to magic. The mixed breed, obviously it was half demon half….something, dragged her farther below. Despair bloomed in her heart, its tawny, thorn covered vines pricked her muscles, made her ache for air and moonlight, and took root in her brain pumping out the sweet odor of fear filled adrenaline. Her last effort at escape proved to be victorious as she vigorously darted to the surface, taking one last gurgle of the wonderful air that dared to tantalize her drowning body, before the thing made its final attempt to kill her.
The time of twilight had come and past, and the tract of craggy earth known as Alulanta falls darkened itself moment by moment. The vast display of heavens across a cloudless sky blanketed the grounds in majesty. This indomitable place never slept. Even in the deepest night moonbeams and starlight cast tiny rainbows close to the ground.
The constant gushing water was a comfort to the creatures of the day, as they sank brooding to sleep. For the falls took on a watchful intentness. Listening through the night, it seemed to await something. But it had waited unmoved during so many centuries that one doubted its day would come anytime soon.
Arda's fair moon gently lit the worn path as Scatha-Columbkille put one foot in front of the other. The old limbs ached from disuse, and his shoulders were bowed. He wore an coat with tarnished brass buttons bearing a stitching design upon their face. In his hand was a fallen branch he was using as a walking stick--a third leg, until he regained his vigor. Before him lay miles of rocky path, open to the falls on one side and the grassy earth on the other. Scatha stretched his eyes ahead to gaze over the tract he had yet to traverse, unable to see clearly through the darkness. At length he discerned a moving spot in a pool of water far ahead. Scatha drew closer, curiousity energizing his body. When he drew nearer he perceived it to be a figure bathing. Not wanting to startle the creature, Scatha moved back onto the path to the deeper Falls, where the bigger wildlife lived. I will gain my strength there.
While he continued his thoughts a small scream was audible above the tranquil falls. Its origin was unmistakable-- it was the fall of a body against the water. Scatha seized hold of his walking stick and hastened on to the pool. The sides were rocky, but smoothed down from the constant flow of water. The rock prevented the water from washing away the bank. The thrashing figure and something else. Scatha reached the edge of the pool. Nothing but the froth of the waves could be discerned below. Scatha was about to leap after into the pool, but thinking of a wiser plan, Scatha's eyes darted around, searching for anything he could use to pull the figure in. At last they alit on a large branch struck by lightning. Seizing this boldly in his hands, he ran around to the lower part of the pool, where the current was lessened, and thrust the long branch across the depths.
At that very moment the figure surfaced, a dark silhouette in the moonlight.
"Take the branch!" Scatha shouted, putting all his energy to his voice. "Grab it!"
Josette could barley reach the strangers attempt at rescue. Silent screams erupted from her parted lips. The beast was not going to let her leave with a beating heart. With sudden jerks and miss aimed kicks she struggled for her life, the gnarled branch barley a fingers length away. Fatigued became an instant tranquilizer as her lungs bellowed for air her limbs begged for rest. The elf maiden’s energy ebbed slowly from her body, each urgent tug from beast dragging her limp body farther into the dark depths. Grasping handfuls of water she reached a last time for the man above her, fingers just breaking the surface of the lethal pool.
( sorry it took so laong...and that it's short)
A muscular black-scaled half-dragon walks by the two, smirking at their attempts. For a while, he stood there, deciding if maybe he should assist them, or destroy them. For Ciraxis, destroying them seemed like the better of the two. Unfortunately, his conscience never rests, and cried out in anger towards Ciraxis's notion.
Ciraxis sighs, and his dark voice bellows out,
"Would you happen to need an extra hand?"