 | Name | Fires of Autumn Twilight (III) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Fires of Autumn Twilight | |
| Rarity |  | |
| Description | A woven scroll from the Flower-Feather Clan. It seems like it consists of what were originally two separate stories from different eras that were then merged together at some unknown time. |
| Table of Content |
| Item Story |
| Obtained From |
| Gallery |
Item Story
| As soon as they turned the corner, they saw that banner, the symbol of authority. Almost instinctively, he tightened his grip on her hand, a surge of searing excitement rushing through his veins. He did not notice the flame that slipped from between her fingers. Within a moment, a great conflagration began to roar up on all sides, engulfing the entire warehouse, the narrow space transforming instantly into a blazing crematorium. "Quick, that way!" he yelled out in panic, yanking her arm as he tried to find an escape route through a cascade of falling flames. Yet the intense heat began to blur his vision. "There's no way out," she murmured softly, allowing him to hold her arm without resistance, just as she always had. "I've sealed off all the exits." Knowing now that it could not escape, the dragon let out a furious roar, shaking the narrow cavern like a drawn-out roll of pealing thunder. She watched on as it struggled in vain, flapping its wings as if this might extinguish the blistering inferno. But it was too late, and the very desperation of the beast's resistance betrayed it. Containers of liquid phlogiston were shattered by its frantic movements, its flesh consumed by the fire that rained down. Thick black smoke began to rise, suffocating the few remaining dim slivers of light that crept through the crevices in the stone walls, as if it were trying to devour the faint sun of the autumn twilight. She struggled on in vain, choked by the black smoke that enveloped them. Crawling over to his side, she clumsily reached out to cradle his face and give him one final farewell kiss. "Not even death can part us," she whispered, attempting to raise a hand which had now lost all feeling. But still her hand fell; and with that, the long-taut bowstring let out a piercing twang, a joyful release of pent-up urgency. A feathered arrow shot through the chill of the autumn's evening air, careering towards the giant dragon that writhed in agony among the flames below. Through the searing tongues of fire, which at this point had nearly obscured the light of the dusk, she saw a group of people hurrying toward them. She smiled and looked up at the dragon's head, imagining the scene that would ensue when the flames were extinguished, picturing the expressions on the people's faces. Reinforcements from the Flower-Feather Clan, she thought — heroes who had once followed her mother into battle. Even with wings, this dragon she had hunted for so many years now had little hope of escape. And in the end, she thought to herself, there was indeed to be no escape. "Dead already," muttered Elder Nyamgondho. After wiping from his forehead the beads of sweat that glowed with the light of the burning oil, he pulled down a half-burned curtain from the beam above, then tossed it aside. Around him were the young men who had rushed over to help put out the fire, all at a loss as to how the tightly guarded warehouse could have suddenly gone up in flames. He sighed, then scanned the area again, searching without much hope for a clue to the blaze's origin. But just as before, aside from the two charred bodies, there was nothing to be seen except for the dragon skull that hung high above them — a relic of the beast that she, singlehandedly, had slain some years past. Everything in the warehouse had been burnt to ashes. |
Obtained From
Shop
| Name |
| n/a |
| items per Page |
|
its sethos