Grigori - Draconian Order of the Emerald Dawn

[Grigori]

Due to the overwhelming talent being shown from you, the people of Sundren, I was inspired to revisit my namesake and completely flesh him out in a story that will delve into his tragedy, moment of decision, and future... I hope the story is at least interesting to read even if you are not inspired by the character itself.

[Grigori]

It seems like ages ago... I was in a cold, black void stirring from what seemed like an eternity of sleep. The shock that snapped my subconcious into focus came in the form of a storm of cold shards of memories that ate into my soul like a cancerous sickness. The voices that accompanied the memories came from abstract sources of light and energy and whipped at me with accusatory tones of disgust and disdain... "Abomination! Unfit to fly among the heavens... Sad parody of the grace that we embody... Foul half-breed! Sickness among the pure..." These were interlaced with other phrases too vile to repeat, but I remember them as if they were happening every waking moment of the day. I remember being held by an unseen force in a huge domed arena which had a vast chasm where the floor should be that faded into a blurry swirl of madness. My arms were across my chest, my feet crossed (heel to in-step) and my wings were unfurled to their full magesty for the entire attending choir to see...

My wings... those and my skin were the subject of this tribunal. One of my wings had developed normally as any Celestial should, buat the other had taken the form of a powerful, colorless wing of draconic ancestry. The two wings were the same size and posessed the same strength, but the differences between the two were cause for alarm in the eyes of the Holy Choir. My skin was also a point of concern, for it had developed a hard, scaly texture and had begun to turn red in recent days as had the draconic wing. My eyes were not much of a concern, but the entire line of my Order were blessed with the Golden Eyes of the Allmighty. My eyes, the windows to the very essence of my being, were a ghostly, silvery mist unpenetrable to all who dared taint their own soul by staring into them. For this, for becoming something special, different, and, in their eyes, abnormal, unnatural, or unholy, I was put on trial.

I felt their outrage and abhorrent emotional state as they sentenced me and pronounced that I would no longer be welcome among the Choir and would be banished to Faerun to live out the remainder of my existence in exile. I could feel the caress of heavenly grace roll away from me as if in disgust as a darkness enveloped the warmth of my radiance and snuffed out the light that once played about my body. The cold, chilling fingers of the void gripped at me and my wings began, against their will, to fold against themselves as they were enveloped by the skin of my back and the pain was indeed great. I shed tears of blood and began to fall through time, space, and reality as the events of the past few hours began to take their toll on my psyche and I lost conciousness, or so I thought.

I could still feel the sensation of falling as my banishment came to fruition and found myself gazing at a pinpoint of the purest emerald green light that seemed to expand quickly to fill my minds-eye. I felt shockwaves impact on my chest, arms, and legs as a voice began to rumble from the apex of the growing aurora repeating one word over and over again: Grigori. The name given me by the Choir due to my innate ability to gather and retain knowledge and lore had an ancient meaning in an old Angelic script: Watcher. Ironically, that name also meant 'Fallen', and now, it would seem, it had become an omen as well. I heard my name three times before I saw her.

She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She seemed to be made of pure emerald stone yet she moved and breathed like any living creature should. Her eyes were an intense vision of intelligence, knowledge, subtlety and jealousy all wrapped up into an ancient visage that belied description. She was, by all intents and purposes, a dragon. Her face seemed to dissolve in reverse until it filled my sight with bright emerald warmth and encompassed my entire visual scope from periphery to periphery and horizon to horizon. I could not tell if she was smiling, snarling, or simply impassive, but I knew that somehow, deep within my very being, I had some odd and distant connection to this creature, as she did with me.

"Grigori", she boomed (her voice sounded like a sonic concussion or the impact an earth elementals fist would make when striking the fortified bastion of a castle) and I flinched at the shock of her both soothing yet frightening tone. "I see you falling from your place among the heavens and I see within you the blood of my kind, and like you, I know what it means to be an exile...", and as she let this last word release I could both hear and feel the angry hiss of emotion that accompanied it. "Know that you have a place among your own kind as a disciple of my works if you would be trusting enough to accept my offer willingly..." 'A place...', I thought and as the words formed in my mind, an understanding broke the barrier between pain and intellect and I realized that I was indeed without a purpose, a place in the order of things, and a home. She heard my thoughts and replied in a softer, almost gentle thrumming tone, "It is my wish that you work for me as a disciple of Order and balance and help build up a treasure of knowledge and lore within the halls of my great archive that is being build in the Sundered lands upon which you are soon to fall...". I saw the connection immediately and felt that this may indeed be what was destined for me from the beginning and that the painful events that had already taken place were but a tool for Order and fate to place me where I was needed the most. She spoke one last time before the emerald warmth left me in a thundrous snap and I began to fall into another sort of light laced with blue, green, and white; she simply gave me the next step of my journey to "Seek out Brother Van'Dragore at the (town name) Monestary if you accept my offer, young Aasimar..."

My mind was racing as I tried to cope with the events of the last few hours, (...or was it days? Time seemed to have lost meaning as of late...) and I attempted, feebly to come to grips with my current situation. In a very short time i had been stripped of my place in the heavens, given up to the darkness of the void, fallen into unconsciousness, been visited by the etherial face of a Draconic presence (I can only say that I know she was female because she was speaking mind-to-mind and I simply 'knew' the essence of her being and her motherly warmth), and been comissioned as a Disciple in the works of a Draconic Order of Monks all during the process of my fall from grace. How does one cope with such a flood of information, revelation, and confusion? Simple; I once again fell unconcious.

The impact of my fall released the last shred of immortality my physical body contained and I woke with the pain of my entire physical essence snapping into reality. There seemed to be a rainbow of color arching across my field of vision and I came to a quick realization that I had fallen into a water source of some kind. I dragged myself out of the pool gasping for breath (breath, what an odd thing to be unfamiliar with) and lay by the water for a long while before deciding it was time to stand and take some measure of self-inventory. As I stood, I saw my reflection warping, correcting itself, and then distorting again on the face of the water and saw, for the first time, what this world would see when it looked upon me. I saw, and I gaped in wonder.

My skin was still red and had darkened during the fall (so I supposed) and the scales looked more pronounced upon my flesh. My eyes still retained that impenetrable misty silver hue but seemed aged with wisdom (how wise would remain to be seen...) and my hair had entirely disappeared from my body leaving my sharp, pointed ears and Celestine glyph-markings uncovered... My markings, or were they called tattoos on this world (I would later decide they were scars to remind me always of the pain of my fall), had changed entirely. They took on the silvery hue of my eyes and had changed from the mark of my patron diety (I could not even remember who that was...) into two wings that mimiced my own, now dormant, wings. Around my right eye curved a sharp, thick, and purposeful tribal dragon wing and around my left eye flowed a soft, fine-lined, and almost flowing tribal feathered angel wing. I was to be marked for the rest of my days it would seem, and I was already divining ways to make them work to my advantage.

I stood and realized I was wearing grey robes made of thick cotton and elegantly embrodried with an emerald colored stiching on the sleeves was a slender, graceful dragon done in a tribal design. I discerned that these must have been a last minute gift or bestowment from my etherial, emerald mistress and realized that these must be monastic robes worn by monks in this region (she had prepared me for my travels with all I would need; clothing, a purpose, and a future). I rinsed out my mouth in the cold, crisp water and brushed off the few scatterings of dirt and grass that had attached themselves to me as I lay by the pool and noticed that the colors of my garb seemed to hide any stain of grime or grit. I silently thanked her for my gift and sorted through all of the knowledge of this world that I had obtained over the short span of my life and decided it was time to take my first steps toward a new existance.

[Grigori]

As my mind raced and sorted all of the information as it related to this land I was thrust upon, I found many items of interest that felt familiar, right, and natural all at the same time. (to be continued)

[pook]

Great story, interesting read.