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Execution.
🕑 Added 2022-01-03 22:56:35 +0000 UTCAubrey Hawthorne
Titles - Queen of Ravens and Shadow, Dragon of the Wall
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Level 91
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Age - 15
Race - Human (Draconic (Fire) Lustborne (Ice))
Sex - Female
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Str - 350
Agi - 371
Dex - 372
Con - 400
Int - 450
Wis - 469
Luc - 388 (418)
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HP: 105,756 (351,088)
MP: 285,632 (1,425,660)
STM: 185,200 (616,253)
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Stat Points - 0
Perk Points - 3
AN: Due to the 350 Str perk getting ‘skipped’ because deploying stat points happens ‘between chapters’ I’ll put it here, along with the 400 con and 450 int perks :)
350 Strength -
Absurd Strength
While you are not yet strong enough to go knocking down buildings unassisted, you could certainly lift one side of a car off the ground with only some moderate effort -- a feat most humans would need an unhealthily strong adrenaline burst to replicate. Note that this is applied before any other magical or supernatural effects which increase your strength. At this level, you can expect much larger returns from such things. (Lifting a whole car is not out of the question.)
400 Constitution -
Clear Body
You are immune to any form of disease, parasite, bacteria, toxin, and even the degenerative effects of radiation which does not come from a divine source. Your pain tolerance is also raised to obscenely high levels - able to resist any torture, no matter how severe, for at least 10 seconds before you give in.
This does not remove the after-effects of being tortured, even if you resist, however.
450 Intelligence -
Inertia of Self
You are unusually resistant to changes that would affect your memories. If someone turns back time, alters reality, or attempts to directly alter your memories, you retain both the ‘original’ and ‘new’ memories, instinctively knowing which set is which. This perk does nothing to tell you who changed things or even what they specifically changed if it isn’t otherwise obvious.
Before any big job, any big assassination, political coup, or even theft, there is always a feeling of anticipation. You wake up electrified. Some people - novices, mostly - freeze in this pressure.
Some, the old hands who take to these things like fish to water, use it to propel their scheme, burn the energy in ever increasing shows of skill.
I - one of the few real masters left in my last life - had learned to contain this burgeoning feeling. To cage the raw electricity of the moment, and distill it into something potent. A spark of inspiration for when I most need it to be there for me. A sudden revival when all seems lost.
So my methodical preparations, quiet double checking and silent leave of the castle, after getting a grave nod from Dumbledore over breakfast, is all I need to feel the euphoric buildup to my latest job. My latest masterpiece.
A dragon as old as the modern nations. Older than the school and likely one of the few truly exceptional beings of power left, aside from those who are at peace with the Wizards, witches or muggles.
I slink into the forest, and grin as I let the slightest trickle of energy seep into my bones as I feel my recently bonded familiar alight on my shoulder, sinking out of the shadows of the canopy, and informing me of the path of least resistance, the traps it saw, and the methods we should use to gain our best position. I send a telepathic agreement, and my smile widens into a fully predatory grin as I feel the heat from the appearance of Fawkes nearby, carrying Dumbledore dressed to the nines in, what my senses tell me, are the best enchanted robes and talismans I’ve ever felt in this life.
“I see you left the final preparations for the forest, quite the beautiful, and naturally fitting familiar you’ve found…” He leads off, in lieu of a greeting. I turn to him, a curious look in my eyes and feral grin in place, as I pull my armor from my pocket dimension, and his face goes from momentarially confused at my expression to an ‘oh’ of understanding.
“I had a few more tricks up my sleeve. A last gift from Godric Gryffindor, may his soul and the echoes which aided me rest in the eternal halls.” I murmur, as I begin clipping the breastplate on.
In this life, I’ve not trained to use armor, and I can feel the difference. This armor is enchanted to operate like leather at the heaviest, but still. Not training in combat leathers and then wearing them does result in some incongruity on how you need to move. I mostly mitigate this with my experience with my last body, but there are clearly some kinks to work out, here.
Dumbledore merely raises an eyebrow at the odd prayer, before nodding and stepping deeper into the forest as I slip the helm over my head, and clip the last gauntlet in place. My movement is so much lighter, easier, in this armor.
The strength doubling effect clearly has a profound impact, as I catch up to Dumbledores much wider gait in three easy bounds.
Normal stepping motions practically launches me forward, as though I’d been trying to jump, or sprint, perhaps. Clearly this needs adjustment. Thankfully, with the distance of the lair of the beat, it should be a few hours of walking before we get there.
I’d be relying on that to get a hold of my bodily movements. A good thing I’d practiced a few times with altering my form in my last life.
Transmutation may not be my best, but I could still alter the size, shape and general feel of my form almost at will, in my last life. Getting used to this newfound power took all of a few minutes, for walking, stealthing and moving small things - like branches out of the way.
Aside from our footfalls, though, the forest is peacefully silent. A homage to my hard work over the last four months. No troll, nor Werebeast, nor, even, spider lurks here any longer. Only the Dragon, on the other end of the valley.
I break the silence after a few more minutes of walking.
“When was the last time a beast like this was slain, other than at Hogwarts?” I ask pleasantly, and Dumbledore lets off an air of quiet mourning.
“Twenty-four years ago, they cracked a tomb which contained a long-thought-dead species of cat, related to the Nundu. More deadly, fully sentient and sapient, and prepared for magi to let it loose. It was likely of comparable age and power. The team who released it, and their staff, all died, but they wounded it severely enough that its carcass was found not two kilometers from their camp, having bled out before it could find a watering hole. The Nudris incident is frequently used as an object lesson to new curse breakers to this day. Make sure you have confirmation what you’re getting into before you go in. Less than triple what ‘should be needed’ results in casualties. Thankfully, we seem to have more than adequate preparations between the two of us. Flame immunity, magical resistances to almost every type of magic, and a few dragon-killers, yes. I think we can do this. If we cannot, well, Hogwarts would be shut down if this Dragon was discovered so close anyways, and this makes the point moot, does it not?” He queries, and I nod in agreement.
The only reason he’d agree to this is to keep Hogwarts from a scandal which would see it closed and the greatest magi of the next generation getting killed in retaliation by the horrid cup, which I hope to see destroyed. Next year.
Such a receptacle of power is best used empowering someone, no? Purifying the evil, or using a secondary ritual to filter the power of the cup so I am not corrupted by it will be a pain. I will only get a fraction of the power, but even 1% of that cup’s mana is a major boost to anyone…
With my accumulated favors, revisions to my rituals and aides in the rituals, I hope to get around 10%. An optimistic outlook. Best case, but a girl has to have dreams, you know?
“Good. We can end this century with a series of powerful beasts being brought low by the next generation of great wizards and witches, leaving the old-guard to retire the world into our, hopefully, capable hands. I hope to make the world safer and more knowledgeable, so when I leave it, people who have my level of knowledge is more common leaving Hogwarts, than it is such a rarity that we break every record on every test. It is rather sad, I think you’ll agree.” I continue amiably, considering my many plots, and he nods in agreement.
“Learn from my example, narrowing and specializing the curriculum is not a way to improve it. More options lead to greater overall skill, as you, and my own generation proves. More dangerous, but also more able to defend itself. I hope future headmasters and headmistresses can undo the damage I have inadvertently caused. Writing that down, however…” He trails, and I nod.
That would end him, and his legacy. Tarnish him - and all the good he’s been trying to do forever.
The Villain of his story. His story, which he is the only real hero. He is the only reason the world is in the state of common peace and happiness it is, right now. Making him a villain would be laughable to people who understand why he has done as he has.
Too much power in one mortal man leads to failures in some level. There is a reason Monarchy’s, Dictatorships and other methods of “1 Man Governments” fail. And he’s been basically king, head scholar and head lawman for at least fifty years. Mistakes happen.
Councils suck, but there’s a reason Degault was ousted. Why the sisters took over his old posts, and why they stepped down.
Too much power on one person is never going to end well. No one is incorruptible.
I stretch leisurely and step slowly to the edge of what I can feel are the wards of the beast.
Age line - anyone over 17 winters alerts the owner of the wards to their presence. Anything younger is ignored.
Magical artefacts over a threshold are reported entering or leaving the wards. Notably, mine and Dumbledores meet the requirements.
Stealth spell breaking wards, to see through ways around the wards, a long list.
The list does not include mortal - human based - shadow magic, or ‘lesser creatures’ - read less than XXXXX level threats. I quietly channel my shadow magic around my form, cloaking myself in a shroud of darkness from the canopy, which should hide me from anything but people looking at me with their own eyes.
An actual attempt at invisibility is a trigger for the wards, regardless of the source. An ingenious thing, that. ‘All stealth magic’ is too much to handle for a catch-all ward though, so the most common are hit, and specific counters to more esoteric arcane means are listed.
Divine and Primal is glaringly weak, in the defenses. Except for other dragons, and creatures of light which could bring an enemy into his lair.
Phoenixes are on that list.
From the ward structure, I can glean that, yes, Dumbledore can get within exactly 1,250 meters of the entrance of the cavern. How that became the number for the maximum distance a phoenix can appear, I have no clue. My general knowledge from Alyss tells me that the actual mountain itself isn’t even that hard of a climb - it’s worn and weathered from years of wear from the weather, and seemingly intense heat which melted a lot of the rock into smooth, flowing paths up to the lair. Alyss supposes these happen in summer, but was overall unsure.
I go over the gameplan one last time with Dumbledore. He will wait for my signal, which will be loud and, in all likelihood visible for miles, and then he comes in.
My signal is this thing roaring in pain, anger or blowing the mountain with it’s breath, which I am, in theory, mostly immune to.
Older dragons have shown they ignore magical protections to a certain level, though. Instead of 120% defense, like I should have, it’s probably closer to 60%, or, in other words, I’ll have full body 3rd degree burns at best if I’m directly hit.
Not instantly vaporize.
Dumbledore signs his agreement, and I slink in, crossing the wards and feeling no activity on the network, which means I triggered nothing.
Good.
I continue on at my slow pace for almost an hour, before bounding over a secondary ward boundary, just over 1000 meters from the entrance which I can see looming ahead. The thing is 20 meters across on any given side, almost 30 from east to west, and is plainly visible in the late morning light. I snake slowly up to it, and then peer into the depths.
Nothing but an empty cave ahead, so I stick myself to the ceiling with a quick jump and basic application of primal magic to tie my feet into the stone, then untie when I step, then re-tie before I step with the other.
Thankfully, with a shadow shroud about me, this is entirely silent. I creep for almost 300 meters, downward in an almost spiral, before I see the thing, lazily sitting on what has to be the largest pile of gold I’ve ever seen in either life. I see it is held together in a vault made of bookshelves so chock full, that they’re acting as walls to the massive bed this thing lounges on, at least 5 meters tall. A step for the beast, from bed to floor. The book cases continue up, and make a mockery of a canopy bed, which the canopy is fine, thought lost, artwork tapestries, wrought of platinum and telling of ancient druidic fights history has forgotten.
Galvanized by this sight, I slide into position, and get ready for the opening strike.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Drop.
Silently I glide through the air, closer, closer, then, I hit. Sword first, followed by dagger, and an empowering, extremely focused bit of lightning magic which would probably be fifth-tier, if it were classified in the books.
Translating Shadow-Blade to this system, and then stapling the idea onto lightning magic, and making a slapstick chant to enforce it was maybe not the best thing I could have done with my time alone with the staff from my world, but it certainly felt good, as the sword ripped a massive gash down the wing of the giant red monster, right at the joint, and the knife surgically cut the last bit of flesh and muscle connecting the wing to the body. As I went through the wing, still easily 15 meters off the ground, I spun and slammed both blades home, carving down it’s side using my momentum and massively amplified strength to open two long, thin gashes down its side.
The gush of literally boiling blood from the wounds was almost euphoric. As my feet hit the ground, and I felt it rolling over on where I stood, I flickered with Shadow Magic to above it’s head, and leapt again as it began roaring in pain and fury. The roar was so loud the ceiling shook, and a few stalagmites and stalactites shattered into a few pieces.
Thankfully, my armor accepted this as a ‘draconic attack’ and took a good chunk of the pain and damage out for me, but my head still rattled, and my vision blurred as I plunged at it’s suddenly wide eyes, whirling for it’s unseen attacker. I held in my scream as Alyss jumped from one of the ridges on it’s head - or the shadow of it rather, and in front of its face, making it briefly cross its eyes as I landed, sword first, in the things right eye.
The explosion of liquid and gore was delightful, and I let the spark of raw adrenaline and excitement at my latest conquest fly loose.
Time to hunt.
Time to kill some real, powerful and thoughtful, Big Game.
I cackled as Alyss dissolved into the shadow of the thrashing head, and I used the momentum of the toss to use my hot-knife through the butter of it’s forehead, down its snout and up into the ceiling, where I melted with the shadows to it’s writhing tail.
My last attempt at crippling it before this trick will not work again.
That’s if I’m lucky. It may already have caught on through the pain, and if so, my backup plan of it’s hind legs will still do, but removing the tail?
This is my goal. Most dragons bleed out, when down a wing and their tail. That’s before we calculate the blood loss from a head wound, from the eye down to the tip of its snout, even if it hadn’t gone all the way through to its mouth, due to this thing's sheer size.
The tail would take two sword swings, one on each side, to fully cut off, for unlike a wing, it was connected by more than cartilage on a portion I could fall on and drag my sword along as I fell, with my dagger carving the same path. This tail was thicker than my blade, which is a meter long. It’s probably just over two meters across, and so, my strike will be like cutting open a can. Dead center, then ride it down, around the tail until it moves to crush me. If I can get halfway around, or more, before it takes a seat on my torso, I’ll have destroyed its ability to use it as a viable weapon without risking opening the wound wholly, which will bleed like a geyser.
He may be a lake of blood, but a gyser gushing nonstop can drain a lake, given enough time.
I make my jump, all of this going over in my head in a matter of moments as I fall, position my blade, then abort as the tail whips up to where I’m falling from. I parry the tail by sinking my blade into it, and cutting off the bottom fifth, but it’s nowhere near the strike I wanted, so I settle for carving a gash down its side, through it’s right hind leg, before laying into it, and not teleporting away instantly like before.
It did not expect this, considering it paused for a half-second before realizing my blades were tearing a new set of muscles to ribbons, and whipping it’s head over to melt me. That’s when I teleported to the other side, to be met with a tail. Let me tell you, dragon tails moving beyond the speed of sound, hitting you hurt like hell.
A third of my HP bar missing can confirm this, for sure!
On my very painful, at least one rib powdered fly past, I did manage to drag the long-blade through a good portion of its side, before getting buffeted off by a shove of the body. I then blinked off to below its hoard as the light of it’s flaming breath filled the air, and almost cooked me whole from where I was, over 15 meters away, on the other side of the thing, with a pile of gold between me and the breath.
The hissing sound of liquid, very hot liquid, meeting colder air, from the direction of the breath tells me what would have happened if I had not removed myself from that position.
Then, unexpectedly, another roar of pain tore through the cavern, and I felt the slightest sense of satisfaction as Alyss reported she had shredded the spot of the cut off wing with her talons, opening then wound by at least a quarter meter on both ends before she’d removed herself. I then decided to do something stupid.
I teleported under the thing.
The reason was - it wouldn't be able to react to a long eviscerating strike fast enough to lay on me, and I only need one long strike, using my sword as a focus to pump this dragon full of horribly painful lightning magic, while shivving it in another spot and freezing that with the worst cold-based combat magic I have.
Which is an exploding ice ball which usually turns everything within 10 meters into a frozen sphere, so internally, I can bet that would hurt for this guy.
I didn’t anticipate the spot I felt best was literally his crotch. The biggest pocket of space was there.
I felt no remorse chopping into dragon-bits and literally exploding his male reproductive organs.
Because this thing was 100% male, and they seem to reproduce similarly to mammals, in that their eggs are internally fertilized before laying, at least.
The scream of agony, as his bits exploded in an icy blast which chunked another solid tenth of my HP, and I don’t know what it did to him, was music to the ears of a me who hadn’t breathed this freely in over two-hundred years.
The pain turned to fury and hatred in a matter of a moment, and I cackled as I ran out, dragging my blade inside of this thing through the ruin and out to his tail, where I promptly cut a meter gash into the base, before teleporting out as I felt him begin a death-roll to crush me in my bloodlusted state.
Thankfully it is not my first time doing this to a dragon, or I would be 100% dead, As it was, the landing, having teleported off of a mass of writhing coin under a multi-ton behemoth was less than ideal, and I watched as my health dipped generously into the bottom third.
Running out of tricks which might work, I go for one last gambit.
The neck is much thicker than the tail, but the esophagus should be in the same spot, roughly, as it is in all dragons. This means, the left side. The right side is the fire-tubes which make them breathe flame.
If I cut a meter out of the left side of his neck, he’s dead. Maybe not instantly but in an hour, for sure.
No oxygen and no blood to brain? You die.
I flicker, and am surprised to find his one good eye focused on the entry-tunnel, where a frazzled Dumbledore is summoning a massive stone golem, with the melted husk of what I assume was another in front of him.
My drop isn’t flawless, but with the old-man-distraction on hand, I land my blow, and feel the beast go from ‘I will kill you and destoy all you love’ to ‘if I can’t live, then NO ONE CAN’ mode, so I abandon all measures of self worth, and instantly do the second, supremely dumb thing that day.
I don’t teleport away instantly, and instead opt to ride my sword through, and around the cut as far as I can to make a bigger wound so it dies faster, while channeling the biggest explosion spell I know into this thing through my sword.
This can 1. Kill me. 2. Destroy my sword and 3. Ruin any chance Dumbledore has of killing it before it leaves to destroy everything it can, as fast as it can.
By some luck of the gods, I get a neutral ending.
The dragon’s spinal column is severed in the blow - unexpected but instantly killing its ability to do anything but die for a few seconds until it is fully gone.
This has the bad effect of 1-ton of dragon neck and head landing on me when I have no real method of getting out, due to the gold being molten and giving off light. Further, as I’ve landed in that molten mess as the thing dies, I just have to eat a face full of scales, since getting out of 500~lbs of melted gold stuck to all your limbs is impressively hard.
So I get crushed, and feel about half of my ribs, both of my legs, one of my arms and probably my back all shatter.
And I definitely have a concussion, if not a fractured skull.
These are my last thoughts before blissful darkness takes me.
‘Damn, I still got it!’
.*****.
Waking up, not in the past, but at dinner the night of my battle with the Dragon, in a private corner of Dumbledore’s office as he ate his rather fragrant dinner of meatloaf and potatoes, is a novel experience.
“Awake, I see? It took a good bit of work to keep your body from sustaining too many scars.” Dumbledore opens, before cutting a bit of meat and eating it with obvious relish. I nod, and go to sit up before a pain in my arms and chest informs me that, though I am mostly healed on the surface, the bones are not yet done settling from the hard strain of getting battered by a tail, and being crushed by a falling body.
“Most? What’s the damage, then?” I ask, settling down and casting a look over to him, which he smiles at, for some reason.
“A scar which you’ll have questions about is a large impact scar, which was initially a large series of puncture wounds, from what I imagine was it’s tail. Your armor admirably absorbed a lot of that impact, but it failed to stop a few spines from leaving a number of holes. Thankfully these are mostly torso scars, but there are those on the arms which will be harder to hide. On top of these you have some burn scarring, though not overmuch. This is on your left hand and arm. The residual magic of the flames makes it hard to cover with healing magic, but is more easily explained. Combat magics leave very similar scarring, though it would be noted to be of non-human origin by any healers. I’d say, if asked, that it was more of an attempt to conjure and control dragonfire in combat magic, which will line up with the scans, however, saying you killed a dragon, well.” He chuckles and leaves the idea at that. I smile blandly and nod, before leaning my head into the pillows, fixing him with a look.
He must have undressed me, then re-dressed me, as I am in a long nightgown, and can feel nothing else on my person, besides my wand holster, which I can feel my wand inside.
How kind of him.
“Any other scarring? Or just the large punctures and flame scarring?” I ask, and he tilts his head in acknowledgement of the question. Then finishes his next bite leisurely as he assesses the situation.
“Nothing beyond what could be expected of a scrape in the forbidden forest. A laceration from where a ridge of spines on the neck sliced your body as I wrangled you free, and a large swath of skin on your body which will never grow hair again due to the heat damage, which I managed to cure from scarring. It is most of your body, except for your right hand, parts of your right arm and areas the heat didn’t fully suffuse, like your underarms. Thankfully, though this is a bit dubious of a way to say it, your unique set of innate powers protected you from the worst, though I will note that most people won’t understand how any of that came to pass. Your body and biology is clearly magically protected from great heat and cold, which helped lots, but still. People will ask questions to which your only answer could be ‘I did rituals to negate the effect’ or similar. This is why I am seeing to you instead of a healer.” He responds, and then nods to me with a smile on his face. “I am glad we survived, though. The beast melted through two stone golems, and I was afraid my distractions were not going to be enough for you to land a decisive blow, as the monster was, in fact, more powerful and knowledgeable on stopping my magic than I expected. It clearly had some contact with a few magicals, who taught it to counter most magics. It is good we both have a few unconventional tricks we could rely upon, no?” He asks, before fixing me with an oddly intense look.
I nod. “I suppose it is a good thing, but best no one ever hear of our less than normal means, wouldn’t you agree?” I ask pleasantly, getting a happy nod - or I think it’s happy - back. “Aside from that, I assume you got what you wanted from it’s hoard, or were you planning to go back with me later? We do need to harvest and divide it’s hoard, along with its body. We may not have much time. If there was sustained contact with a group, then who knows when someone or something may come to check in on the beast.” I offer, and he smiles happily to me.
“You aren’t the only one who has tinkered in dimensional magics, or harvesting magics. I managed to acquire most of it’s wealth, knowledge and body parts into a set of pouches, and a personal space like you have shown to make use of. Only the bones which were too large to fit easily in a pouch, which is a fair amount, and destroyed objects from our fight remain behind, though those can be requisitioned at a later date. Tomorrow, if your personal healing continues at the immense rate you’ve archived.” He replies happily, and I nod.
“Do you - or have you in the past - healed as fast as I do?” I ask nonchalantly, and he chuckles and inclines his head in agreement.
“I do, yes. My body is similarly magically reinforced to yours. It was much greater, once, but, over time, these have diminished as old age creeps up on even my bones. My magic, these days, is mostly in preserving what I have, instead of imbuing me with the supernaturally good healing and power of your body. Relish that while it lasts. You have, oh, another seventy years or so, before you’ll slow down.” He tells me, like it’s some great secret that in old age bodies begin ot wear down. I chuckle, and settle myself in for a rest.
“I hope the day never comes, but, say… What can I do to get some food? I’m rather hungry…” I trail, and he shakes his head, and snaps his fingers, seemingly conjuring - though it is more likely he summoned - a large smoothie.
“Liquids only, for now.” He tells me, and I agree with a hum, before draining the glass, and we quickly settle into more casual conversation about the castle, and what needs to be done to keep it safe while he looks for a good replacement, so more evil does not take root, and require two arch-magi level, such as ourselves, to kill it.
Of course, I push, once more for eastern, benevolent creatures to fill the gap, since those have the best track record. He counters with an astoundingly comprehensive list of creatures from all over the world which fit his needs. Feathered dragons from South America being among his listed contenders, which he marks as a top competitor, along with my recommendations. Shortly, the conversation drops off, and I find myself falling back into a slumber.
.*****.
Waking in the past, spending my day there forging with Godric, is rather monotonous. It’s fun, making more artefacts with the man, but it’s not anything beyond what I would expect, given the previous day. On top of that, he gives me some queer looks as my new scars are plainly visible, wearing a sleeveless top and shorts, he can see the punctures and light burn scars, which I think look really cool, but are certainly noticeable.
So, when I wake, back in modern day, I decide to check over my status at long last, having finished everything important I can think of, as well as marking all the quests I can complete, as I don’t plan to go dungeon delving for the rest of my break, due to the fact that I’m going to need recovery time, still, and even if I -can- manage on new-years eve, I will feel miserable to miss having any time with what friends I can get together, and Jasmine. It’s still her first year, but I want to make sure my adorable little sister knows if she needs me, I’m here.
It should help humanize me to the couple of Hufflepuff’s she hangs out with.
For Killing Kaun the Ancient +250,000 xp
The Heroine of the 13th
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Objectives -
Slay Wolf-Pack(s) (5/5)
Slay Giants (5/5)
Slay Trolls (52/52)
Slay Vampires (Keese Clan (Minor)) (36/36)
Slay Werewolves (Volis Pack) (16/16)
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Bonus Objectives -
Defend Werewolves (Apis Pack) Complete
Defend Gwarp the Giant Complete (Failed) (i)
Defend the Centaurs Complete
Slay all of the Dragon Dungeons
Slay the Hidden Red Dragon
Make a plan to keep the land safe from further incursions of Dark Creatures
Keep your anonymity as the one who cleared the Forest.
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Secret Objectives -
Impress Dumbledore with your magic (Complete)
Convince Dumbledore you’re not power-hungry. (Complete)
Take no wounds in the battles (Failed)
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Rewards -
+10,000xp / enemy group slain
Blessing of Mars
Blessing of Vesta
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Bonus Rewards -
Blessing of Apollo
+Reputation with Hagrid
+2 Reputation with ‘Being’ class magical creatures
‘Dragonslayer’ Title
‘Pridestalker’ Title
‘Progenitor of the Light’ Title
‘Unseen Predator’ Perk
Perk - Heart of Rome
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+100,000 xp.
Perk - Blessing of Mars
‘Your weapon strikes true, and will be ever sharp in battle’. This blessing grants you +50 skill with ALL weapons, and grants you the ‘Battle-Sense’ skill.
Battle-Sense
You can detect the flow and movement of a battle. You can feel every weapon and arrow within 5 feet of you, giving you a chance to react to them. +1 foot/level. (25 level max)
Perk - Blessing of Vesta
‘Your home is forever warm, and calm’ This blessing grants you +30 to all domestic skills (cooking, cleaning, etc.) and makes any food you create taste 50% better. Further, you gain the ability of minor pyrokinesis, able to control small flames, up to a fireplace, at will. Even creating such fires, though this takes a bit of mana.
Perk - Blessing of Apollo
‘Your music is ever beautiful, and your arrows fly true’ This blessing grants +50 to all art-based skills, and +50 to Archery.
Perk - Unseen Predator
When you are striking from an unseen position, you do 5x damage instead of 2x. Further, your stealth abilities are twice as good in natural cover - such as tall grass, fog, or darkness. You can see through natural cover as though it were normal, lit, air, out to a distance of 120 feet.
Perk - Heart of Rome
The Roman Pantheon is backing you.
+10 to all skills.
‘Dragonslayer’ Title
You do 3x damage against all ‘Dragon’ type enemies.
‘Pridestalker’ Title
You gain 5% in every derivative stat (IE: HP, MP, etc) when you kill any creature, or clear any dungeon, over level 100. Current bonus, 5%.
‘Progenitor of the Light’ Title
You are the one who forever changed Hogwarts - and therefore magical Britain - forever. You turned a den of evil and danger into one of safety, making the British Magical world an immensely better place.
+100 Light Affinity
The Celtic Pantheon is now Backing you.
+20 in all magical arts.
+2 levels
I nod happily to myself and quietly pull up my status page to see what changes have been made.
Aubrey Hawthorne
Titles - Queen of Ravens and Shadow, Dragon of the Wall
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Level 93
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Age - 15
Race - Human (Draconic (Fire) Lustborne (Ice))
Sex - Female
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STR - 352
Dex - 375
Agi - 375
Con - 402
Int - 451
Wis - 469
Luk - 420
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HP: 105,756 (410,277)
MP: 285,632 (1,551,313)
STM: 185,200 (737,053)
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Stat Points - 10
Perk Points - 4
For some nonsensical reason, the boons broke all the previous caps, so I have a lot of skills which say ‘max’ but have a fraction, where the skill number is over the maximum possible number. For example, my Occlumency skill, which had been 300, max, was now 330/300, Max.
I wonder if that level increase just makes it that much more impossible for things to get in my head, or the effective +60 to my magical control will have an effect, when that’s half again greater than the average person can ever hope to accomplish.
This also makes me wonder what that priest I met in rome has, if pleasing them by saving some fractal outpost of their religion - be it the last real bastion of faith or no. I assume the more you please them, and the more you work for them, the greater the boons become.
So people who serve gods directly are very scary, if they’re powerful people, and I need to be super careful, to not get in their way until I’m somewhere around Dumbledore’s level.
Plan set, I see myself up, and out of the very comfy ‘bed’ I’ve been sleeping in. I know it to be the armchair I usually sit in, transfigured in an extra pocket of space Dumbledore set up in his office using spacial magics, which only he can see due to a subtle, but clever illusion. Of which, now that I’ve looked at it, I can see at least two other cubbies like this. Likely one with the door to his sleeping chambers, and his personal library - where all the banned books are kept, and so forth.
I make a note to ask him about that, and stand, striding in my nightgown into the office proper, seeing as Albus is the only one present. He looks up with no surprise at all, then nods to me, then turns back to his work. I quietly transfigure the nightgown into a tight fitting body suit, then summon my clothes with a flick of my wand from the first cubby - they flot out and I quickly pull them on, then stretch, before conjuring nice black gloves to fill out the body covering material I’m wearing. Best to have as wide of a range of dates for ‘the accident’ as possible.
“I’ll be ready to go to the cave whenever, to pick up the bones. I am not 100%, but anything short of another dragon shouldn’t be a problem for us two.” I say, leaning my back on one of the outer walls, right next to the forbidden library cubby, to show I know it’s there.
“Indeed? Then let us go. We have some time before breakfast is to occur, and little of it can be spent dallying.” He replies, before holding up his arm, which I walk over and grip firmly, before we disappear with a sharp crack.
The cave is very melted, I realize, as my vision settles. I’d not noticed in the fight, but, indeed, a lot of the flame this thing breathed had melted a good third of the cave. I reach out and prod with my senses for any cavities in the rock, but find none. Then, I go over to the bones - most of the main skeleton - and pop it into my inventory with a few moments of effort.
“Useful trick” Dumbledore comments with a note of impressedness behind his voice.
“I made it suck things it comes into contact with, as long as they are inert, they do not resist. This means it does not work on spells or weaponry, but most other things, it works well enough on.” I comment, before jumping down into the divot the gold sat in, and look around. I quickly notice the sides are hollow, and when I shatter them, I see it goes down, deep. The bottom I’m standing on is a false bottom, about 20 feet thick. I hop up out of the 7 foot divot in one bound, and point.
“It’s fake. Something is below. Maybe just lave, but maybe older requisitions or things it didn’t need day to day, like the massive ego pile of gold, and the hundreds of books it was likely working on when we killed it.” I explain, and he nods, showing he had similar ideas. He then points to the back of the cavern.
“Similar things back there, more hollow areas I was able to ping with my magic. It looks like a normal ramp down, and you found the ‘quick deposit chute’ I prefer the fast method, myself, as we are on a time limit…” and with that, and a twitch of the beard, the stone I had been standing on, easily 60 feet across, on each side, and 20 feet deep, just shrinks down to a button, and is tossed over a shoulder like it’s inconsequential. The slam and small hole in the ground where it landed tell me otherwise.
Did he make a transfiguration and movement charm to be used for exactly this - moving huge heavy things? Or is that just a precursor to the charms on most trunks? Hard to tell with just the raw magical imprint, but I’m surely impressed. I eagerly hop into the hole, and float leisurely down, shedding light as I do so to improve visibility.
I land in the middle of what can only be called an archive.
I knew this existed, vaguely, thanks to my knowledge stealer perk telling me it had a library. The knowledge was vague though. Like it knew there was another super powerful sentient, unsealed dragon who was as powerful as Ddrig somewhere in Russia, and another in Japan, and another in India, and another still in Canada. The last one he wasn’t sure of the location of, but he had read boosk from each hoard and knew where they lived, so I had a general idea of where to search. Describing it was like trying to describe a particular patch of the ocean when there is no land for 100 leagues in any direction. It’s hard.
Needless to say, the library is enormous. I spot, off the top, a few family grimores which were lost from before basically anyone had written history - as such, the names were forgotten. A few Egyptian, Greek, and even Celtic houses. They’re all on one shelf. There’s another ancient shelf right next to it, covered in… school books?
Wait. Those are the original texts of Hogwarts… Next to those, the ones they used after those were phased out, and next to those the next, and the next, and… I do a slow circle and realize the pattern. These are books designed to teach the specific magic they’re written about. School books, family magic primers, historical texts… the amount of raw, sealed knowledge here is immense. And all magically kept to perfection. They look almost new…
I walk, for at least 5 minutes, to find a cavern wall. The aisles are 30 feet high and 50 feet across. I come to the end of the aisle. I look over.
The current set of Hogwarts books looks back at me. Above, is Beauxbatons, and above that, Durmstrang, then Mahotokoro’s books. All the way up to the books used in Ilvermorny. I look behind me, and see the books from various British Guilds and magical universities on metalworking. The bottom is basics, and the top is stuff which requires a 250+ skill to use. The shelf next to it is refining raw ore, which goes from basic smelting, all the way to complex smelting techniques which are more alchemical than they are actually smelting. Next to that is Alchemy, and so forth. I ponder down that aisle, and then cross into the next one.
Household charms. The next aisle? Hunting magics. The next? Ritual Magics. It goes on for 21 Aisles. The last 7 of those are just miscellaneous overflow, or books which appear to be redundant / not worth the time to sort through properly. I pause, and turn as I head back to the entry.
No dragon would - or could - keep a library like this. I go back to perusing the family Grimores of the dead families, who largely I don’t recognize.
Then I find a name I do, in fact, recognize. The Mantes Family Grimoires. All three of them. They’d specialized in, lo and behold, library magic, keeping knowledge and distributing it.
They are dead. They have been dead for 982 years, and they were killed by a current druidic house, who, surprise! Took over that job.
The Gore family.
A traditional dark extremist family who send their kids to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts to become ‘real witches and wizards’ because ‘Hogwarts is a joke these days’.
The only way these books would be here, is if their owner wanted them to be.
It’s not hard for me to figure out what 2+2 equals here.
Dragon worked with, and likely had a good deal of control, or at least deals with, the Gore Family.
Dead dragons library will not prove anything though, so I toss each book into a thick temporal stasis, and then into my pocket dimension. See Lord Gore summon the books from that pickle.
I’ll devour the books later. Absolutely fuck letting evil get them back. Also, Gore Family - right at the top of my ‘accidents’ list now, for when I can make that happen. If not an accident, then a blood feud. I can declare one with Gringotts, have them send the owl, and attack the second the owl goes into their wards. If I have knowledge of where they live, I can be there before the owl, taking down the wards and walk in as the owl does.
All by the law.
Either way, the Gore Family will not survive the generation if I have anything to do with it. The youngest member of the clan is currently 22 years old, and seems just as corrupt and foolish as the rest.
I’ll wait until either full-out war is here, or I’m out of school for them to make up their minds on being better people, at least. Until then, I will have my block pressure them and bleed them on every turn, and defend them with my allies in the Druidic chambers, so that my allies can’t be removed.
Side with a Dragon like this, putting the whole school and future of the Isles at risk?
Sending yout kids to Durmstrang for good education indeed.
You do it so if dragon boss gets mad you stiffed him on rent, he doesn’t kill your kids.
I pull out a 3 compartment, made by me, trunk, which has about 500 cubic feet of space, then I pull out 3 more, just to be sure, and begin summoning books off of shelves.
I wind up needing 12 trunks for all the books, all told. Dumbledore winds up making 5 of them out of the shelves nearby, as he stare around, in awe of the history and power sitting in this room.
I’m glad I got down before he saw the Grimoires. Hard to explain where those went other than ‘back to their rightful owners.’
I did find a number of the books had been owned by Gore family members, though, due to their names being on the inside of the books, and pointed out to Dumbledore it may be a good idea to begin pinching them out of the political scene, like was done to the Gaunts not 70 years ago.
It was almost the only way to rip Druidic status away. By making them too busy to attend the meetings, therefore nulling their vote.
He gives me a long, sad look, then agrees.
We’re back an hour before lunch.
.*****.
I will be honest - the Combat Magic which Dumbledore would use to kill the dragon solo would cause her a lot of damage, and likely kill her. He didn’t want to kill her, so he focused on forcing the dragon to deal with his threats, and testing it in case it did kill her.
Because her dying was frankly something he would accept in this fight, if it meant the evil here died. He wanted her to live, but he also wanted to get rid of the shadow on the castle. Her living is good. He likes that.
Still, if he had a thing he could just use which was equal to her but also needed to be killed, this would have been vastly more one sided. Dumbledore is absolutely one of the most powerful people in the world, and it should reflect. He can’t 1v1 an extremely smart prepared dragon, but if someone was expendable and engaged with it, then he -will- win. It’s just the reality of the situation.
Overall, this went well. Not optimally. I just wanted to address the ‘that went too easily’ or ‘why didn’t dumbledore smash this fight for free’ comments. I’m not good at expressing minutia like that in writing outright and doing it chapter by chapter where you can’t see what happens after this, even though I obviously can.
