<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/2f/f8/b6/2ff8b6327f323407ec8153f38d2671a5.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><strong>Name:</strong> Pharon Draelig (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=341089.msg16147073#msg16147073)<br/><strong>Dragon Type:</strong> Darkness<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong> Dragon Slayer Armor w/ Hooded Cloak<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong> 1 April 2050, Midnight.<br/><strong>Location:</strong> The Slums &gt; Oriental District<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Brook Harrell<br/><strong>Content:</strong></span><br/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Pharon in Dragon Mode had been whooping and hollering as he rode a dragon in a death spiral straight down through the sky. His armored fist was slamming repeatedly into the creature's skull, and Weeping Dark was trailing behind both of them, the chain attached to the manacle on his wrist as taught as possible since they were falling faster than his weapon. Reaching his mind out to touch his Dragon Arm, it suddenly grew multiple times heavier and fell like a stone right into his outstretched hand. Raising the mighty weapon's blade high above his head, he let out a war cry and slammed it down. Right before he felt the dull, yet potent THUD of a frontal cranial split beneath his Weeping Dark's tooth, his senses caught fire and the world was torn away. A crack of thunder caused him to open his eyes, and when he came to, he was still falling, although now he was alone. His Dragon Mode deactivated on it's own before he could even start to flutter his wings, and now he was simply falling. You might expect a cry of terror, but from Pharon came the delighted cries of someone having the time of his life. As he fell he looked around and noticed that the place he was falling was <em>dark</em>.<br/><br/> And not a normal dark either. It was a sea of black with small pinpoints of flame and pale magic here and there, but mostly inky nothing. He had to focus for a moment before the ramshackle buildings and literal tons of refuse took shape, but once he realized what he was looking at the poorer villages and bandit hideouts of Avantasia came to mind. Had he been transported across the continent perhaps? Maybe across the world? How long would he have to fly to get back? He would figure that out later; for now, he just needed to worry about landing. Waiting until the unforgiving, debris-covered ground came rushing up to meet him, Pharon shrugged his powers within and released them at the last moment, causing a pulse of purplish energy to surround him and splash outward when he landed, causing an explosion of dust and debris into the night sky with the sound effects to match. His command over the forces of gravity had cradled the falling Slayer in a shell of fundamental forces, carving a crater and area free of garbage around him in a perfect circle. "What foul wizardry has brought me here? I can't sense any of the others, nor scale or tail of those foul dragons."<br/><br/> The giant of a man looked around, and saw the detail of the buildings built into the mountains of trash around him. Some big, some small, some elaborate, some simple. But the number was staggering. "A kingdom of trash...was there such a place in Avantasia? The King never spoke of it." People were beginning to stir from their slumber, and more dots of light began to spark into existence. What concerned Pharon wasn't the people, but the sudden roar (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79NxCXrO1nU) that echoed through the night following a shift in the sky above that seemed to eject a large winged figure that fell from the sky, opened it's wings and began flying in a beeline directly toward him. The giant smiled, laughed loudly and summoned Weeping Dark into his hand. "COME THEN!!! MEET YOUR DOOM, WYRM!!!" He took several huge steps, and launched himself into the sky toward his foe impossibly fast thanks to boosting himself with his powers. <br/><br/>Right as the two were about to clash, Pharon tilted his body and pushed his gravity away from the dragon's just enough to avoid it's snapping jaws. Continuing to spin, he grunted and used both hands to slam the hammerhead on the dragons skull. The monster stopped moving forward and immediately plummeted down, and Pharon floated for a moment before following it. It was the same dragon from before, so it was already weakened and near death. All the fight it had left in it was just putting off the inevitable. The dragon was struggling to stand as he fell, the axehead of Weeping Dark glinting ever so slightly in the moonlight before the black and purple energy beginning to coat the blade absorbed all light. It sucked in a deep breath, and bellowed lightning from it's maw up at him, and in response the purple glow of his powers enveloped him as he spun his Maul. When the lightning hit, the weapon looked like a buzzsaw and the electricity was bounced off course to dissipate in the sky.<br/><br/> <em>"Sleep"</em>, the Slayer of Darkness whispered right as he slammed Weeping Dark onto the dragon's skull. It screeched, only for the sound to be cut off as purple light bright enough to illuminate the area flooded it's body from within. It convulsed and cried weakly as it's body balloned, then all at once collapsed in on itself while sending out a shockwave that shook his surroundings. Another crater existed where the beast once stood, with no trace of it following the implosion. With his job done for the moment, Pharon looked toward the glittering lights of the city, and figured his friends would be there if they were anywhere. He had no time to waste, so he bent his legs and jumped, hurtling through the air as if he was flying, then pushing off the air with his gravity powers into a second jump.<br/><br/> He stopped jumping when he got to the place where the darkness merged with the light. The buildings bathed in light, even the ones so far away from the city proper were constructed much better than the ones in the dark. Proper building materials and foundations. Actual paved roads. What was this place? Pulling his hood down over his head for fear of being recognized, he slowly scouted the area, trying his best to hide his bulk in alleyways and behind strange, iron carriages and horses. He wandered with no real direction, and the few people he saw sped away when they saw him approaching. He still hadn't been able to even speak to a single person when he heard the roar of what could be another dragon, or at least a drakeling nearby. The would be creature's roar died in it's throat as Pharon rounded the corner, only to see a woman atop a metal steed with wheels. <br/><br/>He watched her curiously, and with the contraption dead or dying, she had no choice but to get off of it and push. Unforutnately for her, she seemed to be pushing up a very steep hill, and it didn't look like it was made out of pillow feathers and flower petals. Before he even had time to think of whether he should help or not, he was already striding over to her on giant, silent feet. She was fighting a losing battle from her body language, and soon she might collapse. Without announcing his presence or even saying hello, he ended up right behind her and put a large hand on the back of the motorcycle, gave it an experimental push and realized it weighed practically nothing. "Let me help you," he all of a sudden said to her while maintaining his grip and now influence over the bike. If she was still struggling, she would notice all the actual weight and resistance was gone now that he was standing next to her, looming above her, looking down from within the shadows of his cloak with only glowing purple eyes and impossibly white teeth peering out from within.</span>