Every Dragon Needs a Hoard

She had heard rumors of a recent avalanche upon the mountain, which gave way to a long-hidden cave - with some sort of large draconic statue hidden inside, surrounded by numerous chairs, carved purely from stone. A worship area, if the archeological report was to be believed. Still, as everything inside was quite literally sculpted from the mountain, they couldn't really extract much aside from some ancient torches and log dead bones of sacrifice. Of course, even if they could - the other problem was that the dragon statue seemed to be sealed in some manner or another. Harsh ice-magic shredding anyone who attempted to touch it.

It was disheartening to hear, as Myrrh wouldn't be able to absorb much from it if the thing was sealed away, and it's not like she had any potent fire spells that could help. Still...something had...compelled her to go anyway. She didn't exactly have the word for it but, it felt as if there was a pull on her soul. An instinctual feeling that this was something she had to do, a...purpose she was destined for.

Arriving at the base of the mountain itself was easy, the people were quite warm and receptive to her, bundling her up with clothes and even feeding for a bit. It felt...nice, much nicer than she had dared hope. Ever since she had left home, Myrrh had been avoiding any mountain settlements. They were the places her tribe preyed on, the easiest pickings due to the lack of proper survival traits. The thought of them always brought her despair...no not despair...guilt maybe? That's what you feel when you think you're responsible for something...right?

They didn't want her to go up the mountain, saying that it was dangerous and she might not come back. Even the showing of her guild-mark did little to placate their worries, saying that only made things worse. Myrrh genuinely did think about listening at first, about staying behind or turning back; but then that feeling came back. The compulsion...the need to go, even stronger this time. The night before her departure only made it worse, a deep, smoky whisper resounding in her head. She recognized it as Draconic, but...there was something else there too. Something dark, demonic even. "Come...I'm waiting..."

The voice was so tempting, it made her skin crawl.

She only lasted a few hours before it became too much to bear, and she ended up leaving in the middle of the night. There was a rough path up a certain distance, but she soon found she wouldn't even be able to finish that - her destination had no clear set route. Deep bootprints were left in the snow as she moved on and on and on, occasionally having to bat away a few wolves that tried to attack fresh 'prey'.

It felt like an eternity of endless walking, the icy winds getting colder and harsher as she traversed further up the mountain, her body trembling as each step became more agonizing than the last. But then...she found it. A massive stone-archway, inundated with ancient symbols covered by a layer of ice and snow - leading inwards to an inner sanctum. The inside was massive, much more massive than the pictures seemed to convey. She felt like an ant, standing in the throne room of a giant. Massive rows of stone chairs extended outward in an ever-growing circle, they were about double the size of an average seat. Thick carpets lined the intersection between each row, dulled into a blood-red from the years of dust and dirt collection. The walls were lined with banners, featuring various serpentine and draconic symbols, while depicting various battles along the hem. Of course, that was nothing compared to the centerpiece of the room.

An absolutely massive dragon carved from stone stood there, reared up upon its hind-legs as if mid-roar. Poison dripped from its mouth, and its scales were twisted and sharp. Despite being made of stone, Myrrh couldn't help but shake the feeling that this thing was alive."Come...come closer...heritor..."

She froze, eyes flicking up towards the statue, petrified. She didn't want to. She wanted to turn and run away, to book it out of there as fast as she could and go back to the warmth of the settlement. The voice...it was evil, demonic even. Yet...she found her body moving involuntarily, step after step ringing out as she got closer and closer to the statue. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest, her mind desperately telling her to back away. She wasn't ready for this, not even close. But...her hand moved anyway, reaching out to try and absorb the faith of this...this monster.

Almost immediately she was blasted backward, skidding and rolling as she slammed against one of the giant chairs; a storm of ice and snow violently swirling around the statue- originating from a giant magic seal on the roof and floor, three layers in size."Get...up....GET UP!" The voice practically screamed into her head this time, forcing Myrrh to curl up into a ball as shivers racked her body, fingertips shredded and bleeding from the sheer cold of the magic.

She found her body aching as she slowly got to her feet, using the chair she slammed against as support to keep her trembling legs from failing her. She had never felt so much pain before, and couldn't help but look back towards the statue in fear. Both this entity and the seal that held it were no doubt ancient, and far from her comprehension. She needed to leave...her mind was right, she was nowhere near ready for this. She doubted even an S-rank mage would be. But...once again she found that she couldn't.

Images of her tribe, and their mindless violence flashed through her head. The villages they burnt down, the innocents that they slaughtered and ripped apart. That scene quickly morphed into another image, of beanstalk village. Her standing there alone as Lothric ripped open that man's throat - blood splattering everywhere as she failed to catch the murderer. She pictured her future, being weak and powerless as she just stood there unable to catch the woman as she continued to kill innocents over and over and over.

Fear dissolved from her gaze as she turned back to the statue, releasing her hold on the chair to once again stand on steady feet. Channeling magic through her being, she would envision the image of a hydra, healing, growing stronger and more dangerous for each head that was cut off. Ever tenacious in the face of pain and adversity. "Draconic Soul: Hydra" In an instant she felt the change of power flow through as she took over the beast's attributes. Thick brown scales coated her form, as her legs morphed into a large serpentine tail. Aquatic ribbed fins sprouted from her spine and forearms, as her hair shifted into a magenta shade - growing and lengthening an inordinate amount, while her eyes shifted into a deep regal purple.  Hisses rang in her ears as large clumps of hair rose up and took a will of their own, shifting into three draconic heads - sharp teeth and all. While at the end, an ancient greek styled chest piece formed, a red cape hanging from her shoulders.

Eyes now blazing with resolve, she would slowly slither towards the statue once more - the raging storm of snow now having faded back to its source. There she stood, once again ready to plunge her hand in and take this power for herself, the will to protect and be stronger coming off of her in waves. Letting out a breath, she would move both hands to the statue, while two of her draconic heads did the same.

As before, a massive tornado of ice and snow rose up - but this time Myrrh didn't relent. She held firm, despite the immense pain in her hands as the skin and flesh shredded away, her remaining dragon continually healing to keep them intact; while her other dragons continually funneled magic against the barrier, trying to push it back and disperse it. It felt like an eternity passed, of pain and grit - slowly wearing down as the barrier receded more and more...before eventually, it shattered.

Once again Myrrh was sent flying back, her takeover fading away as she managed to land on her feet this time. All was silent as the outer ring of the seal faded into nothingness before the tornado picked up once again, even stronger and harsher this time; large spikes of ice peppered in to skewer anyone who got close. Sadness set in as Myrrh realized that there was absolutely no way she could get through this layer at her current level. Still, she had made some progress; and that was all that mattered.

"Well done....heritor....I deem you...worthy..of a...reward."Myrrh shivered again as she felt his words in her mind, his voice deep and thick - choking the life of out her like a snake around her throat. His words echoed over and over in her mind, and suddenly an incantation came to her lips - slipping out involuntarily. "Draconic Soul: Wings of Nidhogg"

A scream of pain erupted from the woman as she doubled over, her back shifting as two spiky appendages burst out from her shoulder blades, black scales moving and covering the length of her back like a plague. She felt her magic changing, diverting energy to the new limbs as a cavalcade of crimson energy began blasting out from openings on the bottom. It hurt, but at the same time...it felt good. Powerful. Standing up slightly, she would flex her new wings a bit - channeling even more energy to them and grinning pleasingly as she began to hover in place.

Turning back to the statue, Myrrh frowned as she saw something different. There was a spear embedded into the ground from where she had been standing, shining as if it was just forged. It bore similar energy to this new take-over, and the design motif practically reeked of the dragon. Still...she was not going to refuse this gift, especially if it could make her stronger. Hovering over to it with newfound confidence, she would grasp the shaft in one hand before ripping it out, the sound of metal against stone proving quite pleasing.

She swung it around a few times to get a feel of the weapon, before a memory suddenly flowed through her mind, a sharp grin slipping onto her face as she made the weapon disappear in a flash of particles. This was....requip magic if she recalled correctly, but how did she know how to use it? And where did the weapons come from? Was she able...to absorb the memories of dragons' combat abilities and...weaponize them? and if so did this only apply to physical weapons, or could she make brand new spells?

Focusing on the essence of the Wyvern she absorbed, Myrrh thought on its ability to spit green fire, tossing it around in her head and trying to remake it into something else. Instantly, both hands became coated in green flame, morphing themselves into a rough claw shape. Interesting...this was definitely something she would have to experiment with when she returned to the guild.

Dispelling the new magic, Myrrh would turn to the statue once again - frowning as she gazed upon its vicious visage. Lack of knowledge or not, Myrrh was smart enough to understand this creature was obviously evil and trying to use her for its own ends. Still...she was undeterred; she would wield his power, and use it to carve out a path, a path that she could be proud of.

Of course, as she began to exit the cave, Nidhogg's last message still rung clear in her mind. "Heritor....become strong...strong enough to break my chains...and drink deep of my power..."