Annoucements:

[Tauburgh]

What was once a great place of reknown of Dragon Riders, long since abandoned, has found its doors opened once again, becoming the new home for -of all things- an Urgal. He set his things down on the floor by an open well that has never dried, and washed his face, then took a few drinks. After looking around for a bit, he found a place to sit and did so. He mumbled a few words in his native tounge, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Once more in Urgal: "After all this time, a place I can call home, with none of my kind, human, or elves to annoy me. And not to mention a decent well that still runs. Maybe I'll just stay here a while, before going back out again."


He said that to no one in particular, just to amuse himself for the moment. Even with the slight echo, it was nice to hear Urgal words once in a while. He stood up, dragged his sword over, then set it down by his seat, and then removed the means by which he held the sword on to his back, and set it by the weapon, then laid down, and slept.

[Tauburgh]

He stood by a cliff, overlooking what might have been a battle, or perhaps, a training exercise. What it was, he didn't know. The Fog of War obscured things. Suddenly, out from below, a green dragon and its rider shot up the side of the cliff and flew past him, and dissappeared among the buildings that stood behind him. A strange sound began to emanate from deep within the cliff. He turned back to look, and the sight suprised him. the sound became a broad roar that was nearly deafening.

He watched as a strange giant silver ...thing... slowly appeared from the obscurity of the ledge. He could see what looked like a man sitting inside some sort of glass bubble on the nose of the thing. It had short, unflapping wings with round black things at the back of the wings in the middle, and hanging below those stubby wings were strange long cylinders with little fins on them Just in front of the wings were strange, gaping black holes, large and in the shape of a half circle. On the body of the thing, it looked like what might be tiny feet, but they were a dark grey, and the air below them was distorted and wavering quite strongly. At the back of the creature, it had three strange stubby wings that seemed to have no apparent use.

Clapping his hands to his ears to guard against the sound, he took several steps back in terror. He saw the man move a large part of the glass back and stand up. He weilded a long sword that shined unlike anything Tauburgh had ever seen before. The man pointed the weapon in front of him, and his mouth moved like he were saying something. Then, bright yellow fire spewed forth under the nose from a pair of cylinders on the bottom of the creature, and one of the long cylinders from a wing fell down, but before it could hit the ground, fire and white smoke blasted from behind the cylinder, and it shot by Tauburgh. He turned to watch, and found several of the buildings full of large holes, and the large cylinder flew inside one of the buildings, and a split second later, the building exploded in a massive fireball. Tauburgh ducked down to sheild himself, but the blast was so intense that he felt himself being carried backwards, and before he could do anything to stop it, he slid from the edge of the cliff and into the abyss...

...and onto the floor. Tauburgh checked himself, and found that he was covered in sweat. He looked around and could see a faint glint from his own sword. After spending a few moments to calm himself down, he got up and made his way to the well, he felt incredibly thirsty, among other things.

Soon, he was making his way back to his bed, and found himself wishing for no more nightmares.

(OOC: Can anyone guess what kind of iron dragon I might be describing here? PM if you wish, and I had permission to do this, I'll be moving on soon.)

[Tauburgh]

Some time passes, and the place is looking better. Some cleaning has been done, a set of rudimentary furniture has been poorly constructed, and several firepots have been installed. It might be considered barely livable by human standards, but to this Urgal, it was nice. Tauburgh had even found some nearby sand that seemed to polish away scuff marks on his sword from the nail heads.

Considering all that he had done, there was little left but to fill the shelves. What had been left behind in the past had surpassed decomposition, and had to be thrown out. In light of this, Tauburgh gathered his things, and prepared to leave once again. For once, he was planning on returning in the near future. He hoped that his thin desguise, a stolen cloak and hood that was barely big enough to cover him, would hide the identifying features of his race long enough to allow him to get food.

He left with a bag mostly empty, he hoped he could return with it full.