The Shadow is considered one of the dark gods in the Althaen Pantheon, mostly due to his domains and one particular tenant of his religion. He is the god of death, thieves, darkness and lies. His clergy often foretells of disasters as they go about their duties of preparing and caring for the dead as well as aiding the dying through the transition of death. He does not teach all about the non-death aspects of his religion though most rogues do worship him for the darkness to conceal their actions. He considers everyone and everything to be supplicants to him as they will eventually die, even other gods.

Adrian

As Ria does not return quickly and feels annoyed, I can only assume that she is having to talk to Abagail and Bryan into coming back. I should consider that they have not reached us by the time that the fairly large hut comes into view as a good thing as it will keep them out of the fight that is sure to happen here soon.

The hut itself looks like it could house several people, being larger than almost all of those that were in the village of Bloodclaw, and better put together than all but the building that housed the shrines to the Architect and the Black Wolf.

I don’t notice any form of defense around the building as we slow down and fan out; silently working to surround the building without even communicating to each other that it needed to be done. For a moment I worry about setting off an Alarm spell or any number of Wards that must surround this place but I don’t know how to disarm or circumvent them. As none of my lycanthropic allies pause in their advance, I likewise continue my approach assuming that one of them will have dealt with it if it is a problem. I don’t even know the detection spells to find that kind of magic.

Nothing stops us as we reach the only door and open it. Analais is the one to do so but we all quickly follow in after him as he motions us to enter after him. Once through the doorway I see little to show that this building is anything but a hunter’s lodge. Only the smell of ink and blood coming up through the floor boards breaks the theme and even that is faint and only perceivable to those with sharpened senses. That and the distinct lack of windows.

I let out a series of pulses into the fabric of reality, listening for the echoes a few specific things: life force, negative energy, fire, and iron. Immediately confirming my guess that there is a basement and that we will find what we are looking for there.

Three cages, two occupied and one empty are under my feet and the room down there is lit by candles but I did not feel any hinges or nails in shape of stairs or even a ladder down to the basement. There is only a single mass of life force outside of a cage but that mass seems strange, as if it were mixed with something else that I don’t know how to check for.

“We should find a way down into a basement” I say and Analais nods and we begin to search for a trap door.

A moment later, before any of us manage to find anything, a flash of light erupts from the floor boards blinding memfor a fraction of a second. When I regain my vision a light golden light surrounds everyone, freezing our movements in that instant. I can feel the light acting as if it were a physical bond holding me in place and frown. I try to move and feel the light give a little either due to my strength or the resistance to it I have as a dragon.

It feels like I could break free if I put my full effort in doing just that and while this does keep me from speaking or making the gestures needed for mana magic, Ravnos Magic is not blocked.

In the south-eastern corner of the room a trap door opens up revealing stone steps that an old looking man in loose white and gold robes walks up into the room. The way he holds himself betraying none of the fragility that someone his age should have before he smiles in an almost sneer.

“Oh wonderful, you all made it here on your own. It seems that Ragnar is missing though. A pity, but that only means that you all are even better materials.

Perhaps not the runt, but that affliction is worth some experimentation. But one of you is not a lycanthrope, a draconian whose element I do not recognize. Or might you be a dragon that took human form?

No, neither quite fit the growth spurt you underwent. . .” the strange priest begins to rant as he seeming inspects us speaking his thoughts aloud as I wait for a good enough opening. For him to get close enough that I can physical strike him as I break his spell. I am sure that I can already lash out with my magic but both is better than just one.

It is not long before the old looking man is within my arms' reach as he reaches into the golden light that binds me to move my mouth so he can examine my teeth. In that very moment I throw all of the power I can into breaking the golden glow that holds me and the priest smirks for the just over a second it takes me to overcome the spell.

Unfortunately, my claws do not rend his face but only manage to draw blood from a cheek as he dodges the moment that he realized his spell would not hold me. There is no fear in his eyes and voice, only increased interest as he says “excellent, high magic resistance. Likely generationally close to a true dragon or one himself” with a smirk.

With a gesture he casts a wordless spell, blasting me with a ray of reddish light. One I also failing to dodge at our near point-blank range. That does not however stop my own power from lashing out at him as I had intended in a bolt of lightning.

A wave of fatigue and physical weakness washes over my body at the same moment my lightning discharges into the torso of the strange priest. I slump slightly and frown at how most of my attack dissipated against a likely enchanted chain shirt after lighting the man's robes on fire.

Through the few seconds of flame comes the voice of the priest saying, “mana-less elemental manipulation? But there are no dragons dark enough to pass off as black possessing the lightning element.

A half breed of some sort, yet you seem to have all of the signs of having exceptionally strong dragon blood.”

I frown, that should have done a lot more to the man but as the flames and smoke of his ignited clothes clear I see why. The man is not human, or at least not anymore. Aside from what was visible before, being his hands and face, there are patches of scales and discolored skin and surgical scars. None of them natural parts of whatever this thing now is.

The strange priest then lunges forward at a speed impossible for the old man that he previously appeared to be, slamming a fist into my scale covered belly. The air within me is forced out and the pain of a rapidly forming bruise spreads from under the man’s knuckles, followed by a tingle that should not be there.

I knee the priest in the crotch, betting that regardless of whatever has been done to the man that it will still hurt. I feel my hit land and then give a bit more with a popping sound but the man does not react in the least. A warmth that can only be one of two things flows over my knee, telling me that I was right but wrong on how much it would affect this man.

As the man grabs onto my neck with a strength that cannot be anything but supernatural. I grab his hand putting all of my strength into breaking his grip by his thumb as I glare down at the man.

Why doesn’t he react at all to pain? He doesn’t seem to care at all about physical damage. I need something else but what? Something lethal or maybe crippling by a means other than pain.

As soon as I get a bit of a break in his choking attempt I perform a tail sweep sending both of us to the ground but it does help me in getting out of the hold. I roll and shift to human, needing smaller hands for what I try next as I will a single small firearm from Void Cache.

At least it is small compared to the non-hand guns floating in the space of Void Cache. The revolver or more importantly the bullets within are soon on their way into the chest of my foe assisted as I use Spatial Aim to hit what I want.

The first few bullets slam into a shell of glowing motes of light; some sort of ward against ranged missiles. As the fourth bullet slams into it however it begins to dim. The fifth and sixth however break the shell and do manage to put nice large holes into the torso of the man.

Yet even now he does not seem to be in any pain as his red-black blood falls to the ground. There is only a smile on his lips as he begins to regenerate. The bits blown away by the sheer concussive force returning to the main body. . .

Why does this seems so similar to the fiends I’ve run into before? Is that why he hasn’t been feeling any pain? No, what I did with my bare hands stayed. . .

I begin to smirk as the likely demon man says, “terran weapons, good potential but lacking in a few very important ways. But that means you are most likely a called. . .”

I cut him off by trying one of my breath weapons, hoping that I have redeveloped it. Mana floods into my lungs just before I exhale, a blast a gravity which was not the one I was going for but one I can work with. It will restrain him for a few seconds.

Enchanted weapons, that’s what I need. That or to reinforce my attacks on the fabric of reality, I'm not sure I can replicate that at the moment. . . I am not sure if anything in Void Cache will work either . . .

I glance around, and end up focusing on the sword Kylana uses. The bone blade has got to be magical. Free her or borrow the blade? I don't know the needed counter or how to create an antimagic effect. I'll have to take the blade.

I pull the sword to me via Translocation Grasp. I know Kylana will get upset over this but she is immobile and I need a weapon. A moment later the blade is in my hands though it feels off, wrong in my hands.

I then step into the gravitational field just as it dissipates, lunging as I put the blade into his torso. There is resistance, far more than I had expected but the wound does not begin to close or otherwise heal in seconds as with the bullets.

I twist the blade before taking a step back and attack again, slashing across at the man’s head, yet there is nothing but a smile on his face as he does not defend himself. He just keeps smiling as if none of my attack have done anything to him as he says something in a tongue I don’t understand before he falls to the ground and ceases to move.

I stab the apparent corpse a few times to make sure it is dead and can’t fight anymore with a bit of dismemberment before turning to those that are still immobile. Somehow, Kylana has managed to glare at me and I can see her right hand making small gestures in the small amount of room she gained from me removing her sword.

A few seconds later the golden glow around her shatters. I immediately hold her blade out for her to grab and let her take it from me without resisting.

Only once she has it in hand does she growls, “do not ever take my sword from me again.” All I manage to do is nod, as for the first time she actually tried to intimidate me. Her gaze letting me know that she can and might just end me if I do that again.

After a few seconds, she ends her glare and walks over to Analais before she begins to chant in the oddly impossible to understand ways of magic. I can tell she is using Lycanthrip, but not what she is saying.

I walk over and decend down the stone steps, to search the basement while dressing myself anew through the clothes in Void Cache.