[Womb Of The World] Delving Deeper (Z'kron/Black Waltz)

[Z'kron]

Timestamp: Mid-Winter, Era XV
During Z'kron's "Detour" trip as he returns to Jaedaxia

Standing at the mouth of cave, Z'kron, renowned sage and only partially self proclaimed "imperial know it all" leaned against his staff in a gesture that was purely theatrical. It wasn't so much that he was tired, but more that he felt guilty for acting his age so rarely and the staff was one of his few concessions. He was getting a little old for this, he supposed. Not in the body so much (for dracons aged rather well- and the earlier generations better than the later), as in the mind. Increasingly his thoughts turned to family, and warmed beds with mugs of carrot-milk. But, then again, the dracon had no family. And his carrots gave no milk- although that problem was well on the way to being remedied. He shrugged; dismissing such vexations.

But still, he felt the itch to explore, to push the boundaries in ways entirely inappropriate for a dracon/elf of over 850. As he'd grown older, and time had been ticking away until that final date where his age would inevitably catch up to him; he'd only been pushing harder. Catching lifts on wyverns. Scrambling himself into essence-strands to teleport himself from city to city. But it wasn't time to slow down yet. Or ever, perhaps. The druid didn't plan to go gently into the dark, when the dark did come. There was a type of strength that came from terror; and when it came to accepting his age Z'kron had it in abundance.

But, as he looked down over the womb of the world, such thoughts vanished. Ah, it was magnificent. And the thought trickled away in his brain. What lies beneath. What lies beneath. Come see. Come see. The pulsing of the curious mind which had kept away Cyraxian bloodlust for generations.
And so, he followed it, scrambling down the walls of the cavern towards the bottom with all the vigor of a six-year old, and with green-tinted hair flopping merrily as he descended. Reaching the bottom; he would simply explore. Looking for a way down; as deep as he could go; into the heart of the womb of the world.

[Black Waltz]

Amidst the ever-present darkness emerged various illuminary objects. Most of them, fungi that had adapted to the darkness and conserved light within them in order to hasten their process of absorbing energy from the Sun. Others included small reptiles with photo-manipulative skin, capable of shining a fluorescent light while climbing rocks or preying on their food.

Z'kron would find himself in a position unlike anything he would have possibly been able to imagine. Although it seemed as if nothing was there at first, the first step he would take within the cave would function as a type of switch, turning on all the life hidden deep within. Butterflies and birds rattled around with their wings, flying around Z'kron only to fly back to their position. Reptiles and other creatures stared at him with extreme interest, eyes glowing and radiating as if they were ready to shoot laser beams right through his own eyes.

As Z'kron would make his way deeper into the cave, a small hissing sound emerged from the deep-darkness from within. Around Z'kron lay the bodies of suicide victims, only leaving skeletal fragments with them. The nearby walls were ornately decorated with various paintings and caricatures of random topics. A small wing with a harp over its top was drawn next to a broken heart. People would often leave messages in this holy area before passing on into their next life.

An unpredictable force would compel Z'kron to look deeper within the cave.

[Z'kron]

Unpredictable forces? He was beginning to feel a little like the fly that sipped the treacle. But he had no issue with such forces. They seemed to be wanting him to go the same place he originally intended. Down. Into the deep darkness of the earth. His eyes, adjusting rapidly to the dark in the way only a trained shapeshifters eyes could- his vision near perfect-, picked out the dozens of glowing animal shapes. Fascinating. The druid tapped a carrot in his belt lightly, which extending his senses somewhat. Someday, the druid would replicate these creatures. But the adaptations down here were most intriguing.
He trod lightly around the bones. It was seldom worthwhile desecrating the dead. There had been exceptions, of course- the druid had indulged in them once or twice. But it wasn't something his did as a rule. His eyes caught the drawings, the caricatures and paintings. With a smile, the druid scratched a tiny mark on the wall. The mark of a carrot; dated to the present; written in a thin coating in a location just above the heart. He smiled.
Deeper down, deeper down. The cave called, and it matched his own intent. He did not resist, and kept walking.

[Black Waltz]

As Z'kron progressed downwards, further and further, a slight chill would eventually arise. Being in a cave of nearly mystical proportions would bring upon nearly mystical effects on Z'kron's body. The further down he went, the colder it became. The light that the fauna had previously provided dimmed out slowly until it would eventually become to dark to see anything without some type of lighting device. What seemed to have been a complete fantasy blackened into a void of darkness. No voice or movement would have been heard, not even the voice of Z'kron himself, a strange predicament in this eerie place.

In the midst of the silence came a discomforting voice from below. "Turn." hissed the serpent-like sonance. Z'kron would have eventually directed himself into what seemed to be a room or a chamber of sorts. Torches hanged on the walls immediately lit up as the room brightened in an instant, most likely causing somewhat of an eyesore for Z'kron. The room appeared to be relatively arbitrary in the presence of a cave. The floors and the walls seemed to have been paved and layered with granite, a greenish brown layer of pure stone. Above, a make-shift ceiling made out of a complex concrete supplement added more color to the environment. In the middle of it rested a breath-taking mural. A grand painting depicting the Kemite struggle against the terrifying Xet invasion covered the ceiling like a blanket, defying gravity and amazing those who would be able to witness its grandiose existence. Z'kron, most likely dazzled by this masterpiece of art would have not realized that another individual would have been at his presence. "I will not repeat myself." The voice arose again.

To the far left of Z'kron, roughly ten meters away from him sat a reptilian phenomenon, a Saurid. The Saurid was ordained in a light-weight chain-mail, fitted with a longsword, a few potions, and a dark book. Although he sat, he still appeared to be immense in size, towering over Z'kron as if he were some type of pseudo-giant. A malevolent yellow iris along with a pitch black sclera glared at Z'kron with fierce intensity. He slowly stood up, collecting his book in his arm and his sword in the other. "I'm Garia. It...would do you much good to head to the...other chamber instead." The saurid's voice was as rectifying as a snake's hiss. On the book lay engraved a dark symbol. The title, although probably too far for Z'kron to notice read: A Primer to Necromancy.

[Z'kron]

The druid extended his hands, just a little. One of the gifts he had developed long ago by means of his experiments, was his abilitiy to sense nearby objects by means of proprioecptive sensors- tendrils almost- that emerged from his skin. It was these he now relied on to give him a feel of the area. And that, combined with another gift he'd developed long ago- that of detecting necromantic energy; and being able to analyze it- gave him an unusual grasp of these sorts of surroundings. Automatically, he felt for the tingle in his arm; searching for residues of past magical experiments. Searching the saurid for necromantic power.
Odd, how much the Draconic body could be adapted with a few experiments. Most of the surface world, sadly, wasn't partial to such alterations. But the druid was far less squeamish.
"Greetings Garia. Primer to Necromancy. That's not a bad book, though I find the arcanomechanics in it clumsily done. And the author; well, he didn't really know what he was talking about when he discussed Necromantic limitations."
The Master druid gave a smile, eyeing the saurid. The reptillian was probably about the same size as the druid in his natural physical form. Necromancy against druidism; equal levels of physical strength.. it would be an even contest. Though hopefully it wouldn't come to that. He paused. Perhaps this was one of the dark Saurids; which would fit with the predisposition to Necromancy. He leant against his staff; closing his eyes just a little. He felt for tingles in his arm again.
"Why the other chamber?" A half-smirk of interest. "Not in need of help with your... work?"

[Black Waltz]

The Saurid necromancer smiled arrogantly at the druid, obviously acquitting what he was saying. "Well now. You aren't as dull as I expected you to be. Perhaps you could be of some use to me." The Saurid curled his fingers casually as his piercing eyes closed slowly. The lights in the cavern suddenly lit up even more, further revealing the properties of the cavern. Behind the Saurid, a set of small chairs, a table, and a handful of alchemical goods lay resting in absolute silence, as if untouched since the dawn they were put in their respective positions. "Since you seem to know what the author of this particular book didn't, please take a seat over here." Garia pointed his arm at the seats, turning his body away from Z'kron as he paced himself slowly to the furniture.

Garia took the pleasure of taking a seat, relaxing his arms and his legs as he stretched outwards as if he were at his own home. "There's a reason why this entire room is made of granite. People say that the breath of the dragon that is said to sleep here turns all of the ashes that he makes with his ever-scorching flame into stone. Apparantly granite is this dragon's favorite stone." The saurid then crossed his legs, which were covered in dark hakamas. "As a necromancer, studying in this area brings me great fruit. Perhaps then..." The Saurid gazed intensely at Z'kron. "This place would bring you even greater fruit as a druid." He then threw the Primer to Necromancy on the table.

"I'm done with you. Through the tunnel on the left you will find an underground oasis filled with exotic Zinn'Sunnese fish. To the tunnel on the right you will find your way into the chamber I told you about, a trap of mine that I set up for large animals. To the tunnel straight ahead, you will find something that not even I know. Whether it be a dragon, or a sword, or a mysterious artifact, I do not know. That is up to you to decide."

[Z'kron]

Well. Perhaps the saurid was lying. Perhaps not. But, such a thing was irrelevant. Z'kron was, instead, considering rocks.
Granite. Flame to produce granite. That was.. interesting. He'd not really considered how rocks were created before. It did make some sense, come to think of it. But, damn. That flame must be hot. He'd heard of dragonflame before- blending the innate magical nature of the dragon with the ores they consume, being devastatingly destroyed and turned into an explosion of energy capable of melting solid rock. It was a process the druid had tried to understand many times, but never quite replicated.
The druid wondered for a moment, whether he could resist that type of flame. Whether his could turn it to his advantage. His thoughts turned to his masterpiece. Adaptation; a spell which had resisted the flames of an archmage elementalist. Would it suffice against a dragon?
What did he know about dragons?
He'd seen a dragon only once in recent years. A great gold creature, sailing above the skies of Aelyria Prime some forty eras past. Before that, of course, there had been many more dragons. And, was draconic history to be believed- Z'kron's own grandmother had been a dragon; being as he was a child of the broodmother. In some ways, that truth still stung him. But for a twist of fate..
The question was, would a dragon hate a child twisted that way; or merely pity it?
But now wasn't the time to fear. To be cautious, yes. But not fear. And he shouldn't get ahead of himself. Perhaps, it wasn't a dragon. Perhaps, it was, as Garia said, some artifact. Perhaps Garia was even laying a trap. One could never truly tell. Picking up a piece of granite from the floor, the master smiled.
"Thank you, Garia. Central tunnel it is, then."
And thus, tapping with his staff and extending his senses for traps, the druid set off down the central tunnel.

[Black Waltz]

Lights slowly lit up one by one as Z'kron progressed further down the central pathway that Garia had mentioned to him. The necromancer eyed him cautiously as he proceeded down the pathway. He curled his fingers as usual and looked back towards the Primer to Necromancy. "I new I should've bought the treatise. This dusty old book is useless." In an instant with a black flame, the book was burnt to a crisp. As for Garia's interest and Z'kron, one could only estimate that it had diminished completely in a matter of seconds. Should Z'kron ever meet face to face with Garia once more, the necromancer would have probably not even cared one bit and simply would allow Z'kron to pass freely.

The pathway ahead of Z'kron had immediately halted at one point. A small circular cavern marked a dead end in the passage, halting Z'kron's journey. In the northern most corner however, glowed a small bright light. Next to the light, the remains of what seemed to be an explorer of some kind and a dusty map along with a journal and a key in the man's hand. On the map was a route to an unknown cavern, most likely an area ripe with treasure and adventure. The beginning of the map was marked by the head of the monkey, most likely inferring to the The Howling Monkey Monument and Catacombs. At the end of the map was a picture of a large door and a treasure chest behind the door, a rather large treasure chest at that.

[Z'kron]

OOC: Seeing as the title of this thread is "Delving Deeper"- let's see exactly how deep the druid can go; and bring back an unusual souvenir before he heads off to the catacombs.
IC:Ahh, the catacombs. Howling monkeys. Looked like this was something of a dead end; a twist from where he'd previously assumed he was going. Still. Treasure, of some sort. Not that most treasure excited him- the druid had money enough to last himself several lifetimes. But perhaps whatever was hidden would pique his interest. And that someone had bothered to produce a map- well, he certainly didn't want to disappoint.
Still, before he changed his direction- he had a few things to do. After all, he'd been recently promoted to masterhood. And this new perspective of things; it'd changed his desires somewhat. No more playing by mundane rules.
Time to put his abilities to the test. He closed his eyes and gripped his staff; descending into clara and allowing essence to well up into himself. Touching the essence to his vis, the druid reached his mind down, searching for lifeforms far beneath him. To the furthest his spells could reach; spells that had been honed by years of practise and modifications to be used as long-range detection in the new imperial airships. Unerringly, the senses moved from lifeform to life form; carefully eliminating various options from it search. Its aim was to ensure that there was sufficient room to manifest; that the druid would not appear directly next to a beast that would savage him. Previously the spells had taken the druid across over two provinces. Here, the distance he was aiming would be the same.. to the deepest lifeform the druid could detect, while allowing him room to exist. Absentmindedly, the druid also checked one of his carrots- a prepatory protective enchantment, which would toughen him against heat and pressure at moment he contacted it. And if the druid emerged in water- well; he was well prepared for that as well.
This all established, the druid would focus his mind onto the signature, and then use his carroport spell to transfer himself towards that living signature in the same manner the druid had done several times before... just never so far downwards. Down, and down. Towards the centre of Telath.

[Black Waltz]

As Z'kron would have teleported to his unknown destination, he would have already felt a burning sensation of heat rising up quicker than a flash of lightning. He would find himself at the mercy of Telath's primal forces, buried deep within the center of Telath itself. Z'kron would have felt the instant need to rely on his druid powers to suit himself to the new environment that he would instantaneously be forced to adapt to. Z'kron would have emerged next to a rather odd plant, one surrounded by crystal, obviously created by some type of strange essence. Around him, a wide-open cave filled with magma and hot lava streaming through rivers of mud heading upwards into the many different volcanos that populated Telath. The temperature was practically unbearable for any regular human being to withstand, peaking up to over 100 degrees celcius! Pressure was far beyond the norm, and Z'kron would have felt his body to be at least twice its regular weight.

The rest of the room was rather solitary, as no possible living organism could have found its way to establish some type of form of hospitable living in this carnal cavern of fire. The only possibly living thing was the plant made out of crystal, which was probably how Z'kron ended up in this particular place. The plant was definitely a rare breed, probably only to be found in the dark-red soil beneath Telath's surface, and would have most likely costed a fortune in your average market. Whether or not Z'kron would have taken the plant with him or not was up to his own discretion. Other than that, there was not much else in his surroundings that could possibly peak his interest. However, in the distance, two fire elementals could have been seen, floating in the river of lava as if it were their personal river rafts. As lifeless is the place seemed, it would have truly been a fascinating experience for Z'kron.