Island of the dead. An mcd x oc collab story. ON HIATUS UNTIL FUTHER NOTICE!

Chapter 24: Not the first, nor the last.

"When faced with the evils of this world, happiness can give you the foundation to bear it, sadness gives you the wisdom to acknowledge it and anger gives you the strength to oppose it! So rise my friends, and BE ANGRY!!!!!"
- Smaug, Titan dragon of knowledge

"Memento Mori, remember you must die."
- Blackdread, Titan dragon of death

The land of Westaros. The citadel.

The charred smoking bodies of the Lanistar guards lay in corridors that lead up to the grand library. Some were still burning with dark grey fire, the heat quickly eating away the armour and reducing it to metal slang. Some were alight with green flames, almost phantom like yet it seemed to smell distinctively of new books and freshly pressed vanilla pods. Some had multiple crystal-like arrows protruding from their armour, frost seemingly forming wherever the arrows had met their fleshy mark. The heavy mahogany doors to the library were thrown open, as the three figures walked through the doors. Many of the meisters who were reading their scrolls and books looked up in annoyence before they looked down and chose to ignore them. The purple cloaked figure looked up at the dauntingly tall bookcases that filled up the room. He had a smirk on his face, orange reptilian eyes glittering in interest.
"All of the knowledge of all of Westaros, in this single library. This will be interesting." The figure said, pulling a book off the bookcase with the upmost delicacy and quickly flipping through it. Gaining the obvious discomfort of many of the other men in the room.
"You might want to hurry up brother." The female replied, seemingly restringing her bow. "We do not know how much time we have until they start to swarm us again." She replied with an uncanny calm as she pulled her bowstring taunt. That caused on of the men, sitting at the large desk to call over at a very uncomfortable Ragnarök who had his arms folded over his chest and was uncomfortably shifting his feet around.
"Hey. Hey you." The old man said, beckoning the Titan dragon of destruction over.
"Mig?" The Goliath pressed his hand against his chest, clearly confused if he was talking to him.
"Yes! You! You big untamed elk! Yes you!" The old man sassed back, slightly alarming Ragnarök.
"I orden. I orden. Bitt ikke min hale." Ragnarök sassed back, even though the old man didn't seem to know the language. Though Ragnarök begrudgingly obeyed and walked over to the old man.
The old man pointed an shaking and crooked finger at the Titan dragon of winter restringing her bow and checking her arrows. "What is it doing here?" He snarled out.
The big man's eyes widened in fear, shaking his head reluctantly. "Beder du om døden gammel mand?"
The measter let out a very shallow laugh, before beckoning one of the guards and whispering into his ear while pointing at Freya. The guard nodded and pointed his spear at Freya, as the other guards quickly followed suit. Ragnarök refused to look at his younger sister being forced out, instead looking down at the ground.

Somewhere on the Ru'uanian eastern coast.

Fjord swam up to the surface and broke the tension of the water. He took a gulp of the salty sea air, desperately paddling against the water as the cold seemed to seep into his skin like dark brackish oil. He started to shiver from the suddenly cold water, grabbing a piece of driftwood and pulling himself on to it. His throat and mouth were bone dry from the sea water that he had undoubtedly swallowed on his way up to the surface. He glanced around the bobbing remains of what was once the proud Squall-eater and the less proud mistake. He could see the majority of the mighty nien had dragged themselves to the surface of the water, coughing and spitting up the salty water that they had swallowed. He looked down into the water, praying to whatever God was listening to help them that the sea serpent that had sent their ship sprawling into the bottom of the sea floor in several thousands bits of splintered wood, was not underneath them. From what he could see from his increasingly blurred vision, the green glow that had caught his attention in the first place was still snaking around them. It seemed to blend into the water underneath, the only sign of movement underneath was the occasional feel of the swishing sea serpent's tail and the occasional grinding noise that seemed to emanate from the waters. He let out a gasp of fear as he felt the swaying waters underneath him. He could see Caleb Willowgast clinging onto what seemed to be part of the once deck, his dirty ginger hair now plastered all over his pale skin. The goblin rogue, Nott the 'brave', had slipped on her ring of water walking was panting heavily and coughing up unhealthy amounts of sea water. The firborg grave cleric looked like he had passed out as soon as he had broke the surface of the water and was draped over a floating barrel. His female monk friend was paddling against the water and was struggling to support his blue female teifling friend. Another glance behind him signalised that his Assamir barbarian friend had broken the surface and was paddling against the salty water. He could feel the heat of the Ru'uanian sun beat down on him much more then a whip could ever crack down on his back. One good thing that seemed to come out of this mishap was that most likely the crew of the Squall-Eater was dead, possibly alongside the captain Avatika; at least that was one good thing that had come out of this...problem. That hope though sunk deep into the pit of his guts when he saw the barely floating ship of the Squall eater. Though he highly doubt that his patron would like him killing one of his own. He let out a sigh of defeat, but his heart kept on pounding inside his chest and causing his body to shake with each beat. Well. This is how we die. Stranded in the middle of monster-infested waters and not a land mass in miles....I can't say it wasn't without its adventures. He could feel his body bobbing up and down as the waves slowly moved past him.