Memories Frozen in Monochrome [Tenebris]

Littjara, the Lake of Shadows.

A name given to an area deep within the Twilight Imperium where unnatural forces seem to gather and coalesce for as long as dragonkin have remembered and recorded. A large and heavy shroud appears to cover the lake and its surrounding woods, casting the place in an eternal twilight that neither sun nor moon have ever pierced. Scholars of both the arcane and the occult across generations attempted to solve the origin of this phenomenon, though whether it's simply an illusion, a powerful curse or a divine enchantment has never been solved.

The dense forest makes approaching the lake on foot a perilous voyage as between the perpetual dusk and the pale shadows cast by the trees, it becomes rather easy to lose track of one's direction within the woods. As there is little documentation of the wildlife in the area, it was long assumed that particularly dangerous predators resided here, being the main cause of the disappearances of dragons attempting to explore Littjara, though none know for certain.

Past the foliage lies a great clearing which gives space to a great lake. The lake itself is not exempt of the unnatural, almost ancient-seeming magic in the area. Its surface is still to the point where the wind seems to rather glide across the water than to dare disturb it. As the shroud of dusk spans across the lake it becomes almost impossible to see deep into it, the mirroresque surface bearing the appearance of an abyss stretching across the clearing. When day and night pass to one another and the sun and moon trade places in the sky, a fog can be observed rolling in from the woods, laying heavy on the lake like a dusty white blanket. Only at night does the fog seem to dissipate, granting clear view on the island in the middle of the lake.

Though calling it such is more than generous. It is little more than a landmass risen from the deep of the lake, given no other purpose than to be the foundation of the Spire. The tower on the island has itself been given various names throughout time. The Spire, The Dark Tower, The Onyxian Needle, they all describe a large, circular tower rising up from the lake, the mirror surface giving it the appearance of extending deep into the nothingness below. Scholars and historians have gathered from circumstantial evidence that the tower once housed a scholar of the NightWing, someone who gathered and amassed great volumes of knowledge and history, which naturally is assumed to be missing from the official records. Though all attempts at entering the tower have failed due to old and powerful enchantments barring entry to everyone except its true resident...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was in the deep of night that Eris took flight across the NightWing lands. She most certainly could have folded reality to the point where she appeared in front of her former home but dragon is as dragon does and flight has always been an important aspect of her life. With her life being regulated by the responsibilities she bears as a member of human society, flight times were cut short as a result so she took the time she had taken off for herself to make a portion of the trip by wing. Flying as a human like this was a new experience compared to her dragon self, though as a small human, she would be a much smaller silhouette in the sky and much easier to miss from afar.

With her target in sight, she took a bank to the left to carefully glide down towards the lake, her former home. She didn't bother looking for any dragons in the area as she was small enough to be overlooked and even if someone were to spot her, her powers kept her safe from any potential harm. Besides, her mind was occupied with her destination and the memories that lay sealed within...

(Just bumping as I don’t want to lose this and I’m planning a reply shortly)

Littjara, the Lake of Shadows. A place the Archon knew well, one which had been a tantalising prize for any with the will who’d seek knowledge and mystery. Accursed and ever without reach, since the days of his youth Tenebris has been told of the place, when he was a Scholar it was his dream to breach such and claim its riches and comprehend its unfathomable mysteries, yet it was that the Archon’s destiny was elsewhere as he was forced into a different role entirely. It was with this particular interest that drove the Archon to his destination now, he mused regarding his past and his wants of old as he examined the vista before him.

The Archon travelled alone, given that this was no official duty and thus he made an effort to seem undistinguishable to any other Nightwing, using their natural appearance to his advantage by traveling at night, using the backdrop of the midnight sky as his blanket of cover, he also adorned none of his usual finery, even the silver rings what usually adorned his horns were not present. So it was that as approached the small Outpost at the shoreline of the Lake. It was a research post manned by only two Nightwings and several slaves, which served as a basecamp for ongoing research upon Littjara by the Royal Apothecary society.

While unannounced, this would not be the first time the Archon has made an unscheduled visit upon the small Outpost. He knew those stationed there with even some familiarity. Andrious, the researcher in charge of the operation served under the Archon as an assistant in years past, not exactly the most skilful or competent of the Apothecaries what made up the scientists, scholars and researches of the Nightwing, yet the Dragon had a boundless drive of ambition and thus the young Dragon had hoped, discovering the secrets of Littjara would cement himself his legacy.

Few amongst the Royal Apothecary society willingly chose the posting or continued the research in attempts to unlock the Spire upon the centre of the Lake, many in the past having even succumbed to madness. Andrious on the other had was the longest serving Apothecary at the site and as of yet hadn’t lost his mind. Alongside Andrious was the Guardian Nadhet, who appeared hesitant and bored, she was barely an initiated into the Guardians before being assigned this detail. Finally alongside the two Nightwings were various different lesser species. Tenebris knew their purpose, they were as much as a safety precaution as well as living experiments themselves for Andrious. It was a pitiful existence being granted over to the Apothecary, but Tenebris couldn’t fault Andrious, as after all he had thus far been the only one not to succumb to the madness of research upon the Spire.

Nadhet extended her wings and thrashed her tail the moment she picked up Tenebris’ scent upon the wind in an alarmed manner, yet as the Archon gracefully descended, the Guardian seemed to ease. The purpose and brazen leisurely flight into the Outpost Tenebris knew they would know his personage. He landed delicately, releasing a soft grunt under his breath as he did so and in an informal manner took the time to stretch, even as Nadhet and Andrious approached. “Your Grace”, Andrious rasped, “We’re honoured as ever at your presence”. At the mention of the title the various loitering servants began to bustle into activity, although what they were actual doing Tenebris didn’t deign to pay much attention.

Tenebris craned his neck forth and gave a nod of acknowledgement and mutual respect “So then, I’d know if you have may any progress Apothecary?”, Tenebris spoke matter-of-factly, he had no desire to mince with pleasantries, after all this was not an official visit. As he spoke Tenebris maneuvered himself to the shoreline, looking out longingly at the Spire upon its nucleus, Andrious falling in step behind him. “Your Grace, the temporal disruptions due to the heavy magical energies in the air continue to hinder any significant progress. We’ve had to put down three of the Slaves in the last week alone. Yet fret not we are doubling our efforts!” said the Apothecary with an excitement and jovial manner despite his harsh coarse voice Tenebris knew all to well, it had been the same on the last visit and the several times before. The Archon merely maintained his stare at the Spire beyond them, releasing a faint sigh under his breath as he examined the site in silent scrutiny.