#ore war

[nova-starz]

their is something poetic abt grian scar and pearl teaming up since the ore war was oringally bewteen scar grian and then Pearl

[frejlandt]

Damilan

“Every army needs a general,” Ore proclaimed. She waited, expectantly, and when no response came released a histrionic sigh. “Me, of course.”

Master’s lips were pressed together. Why he had thought it a good idea to keep his own offspring was beyond him. He should have sold them all, sent them to slab. Xoyd at least he kept in his trophy room, the tundra frozen and immobile, no more than a living stand to display Master’s silks. This one. This one on the other hand was getting full of itself. 

“But they also need a hero. I read all of the tomes. I listened to the odysseys. Every good story has a hero. His name is Damilan.”

This was why Master hadn’t thrown her out in the first place - the beautiful golden wings, impressive armor, flashes of jewels and the mark of the sun across his brow. Master would enjoy this one, in time. 

“You still have not told me whom this war of yours is even against,” Master mused, eyes raking over the hero.

“It doesn’t matter. Damilan will win it.”

[frejlandt]

To War

“I want to go to war.”

Master untangled himself from UnNiacal and Myraphim and stared at his daughter.  “War?” 

“Yes. For our glory, father.” 

Master enjoyed conquering, yes, but he did so in the privacy of his lair, through means psychological. 

“This is a lair of breeders and beauties, not warriors,” Master said. Oh, the assassins were highly skilled, but that hardly constituted an army. 

Golden armor clinked as Ore shifted her weight. 

“Arcane has been--” 

Oh deities, Master groaned. 

“--working on a reincarnation spell,” Ore said. Her pause was long enough to indicate both that she desired dramatic effect and was too young to achieve it subtly. “It is designed to revoke our gifts to the Icewarden.”

Perhaps, for once, his daughter’s efforts were deserving of drama. Master narrowed his eyes, tail flicking, and Myraphim, sensing the sudden shift, sidled up alongside Master’s dense fur, slipped beneath his wing. 

“You mean to say, he has devised a way to bring back those we’ve sent to the slab?”

Ore’s eyes turned up in a grin. “For our glory.”