High above the misty mountain peaks, a massive dark creature soared. This wondrous beast, clad in scales as black as midnight and covered in barbed spikes of the same, kept a keen eye on the various valleys and peaks below him, searching with eyes as red and bright as hell itself.
Passing through the hanging mist, the black dragon caught sight of his destination at last - emerging from the haze was a plateau of sorts, rising high in a gap between mountains. At its base appeared a perpetual blanket of fog and mist, surely an obstacle if one dared travel on foot. At its top, though....
A massive citadel, rising above the roiling mist and bathed in the afternoon sunlight. A castle of sorts, it's architecture taking up the whole of the space afforded to it by the plateau it was built upon. For a moment, Kranath felt nostalgic, as he was reminded temporarily by his ancient familial home back in the Thunderblacks, now only so much rubble and ruins. This, of course, was his true target.
If only he could get in. There was great power locked within that place, the Aerie of his ancient, long dead clan. Access had been left to only one dragon.
The brother he had so foolishly killed, in his pursuit of the ultimate power.
Shaking that thought from his head, Kranath descended from the clouds towards the citadel below, his massive, tattered wings opened widely in a slow glide. He circled the whole plateau once, twice, and one more time, taking note of the ancient building. This place seemed to be even more ancient than the Aerie itself.
Perfect.
Suddenly, his form shifted and shrank in midair, black mist rushing from his transforming flesh as his draconic form shifted to that of a man. For two hundred feet he plummeted, long black hair rushing upward in a stream above a deathly pale face, black longcoat fluttering around him.
And those swords - three beautifully dark crystal blades, seemingly forged from the shadow itself, rattled and shook against his back as he fell, harnessed in a complicated network of leather straps and steel braces.
Despite the great distance of his fall, he landed lightly and easily on his feet, walking immediately after he landed. Black booted feet made not a sound on the carved marble foundations, and those hellishly glowing red eyes stared at the path ahead, unblinking.
His stride carried him quickly to the massive landing before a large door. He stared upward at the tall portal for only a moment, his senses telling him that it wasn't secured in any way - despite the aged tinge of residual magic in the air, none of it was attached to the door itself. There was no security, whatsoever.
And so, he entered, nudging the door open with just one foot, creating a slim opening just large enough to let himself through.
Inside, it was dark - the brightest source of light was that radiating from his own gaze, a crimson shine washing over the dusty marble floor. It seemed as though no one had been here in a very long time.
However, his senses were still picking up traces of an old power, one that tasted almost like one of his own. He could feel the lingering traces of the void in these halls, and could hear the echo of it as surely as he could if he'd been present when the spell was cast. Something had gone awry, and someone was missing.
No matter.
Allowing his own gaze to light the path for him, Kranath followed his senses to a large door, simply marked "library" in a script of draconic that most wouldn't recognize anymore. Here, in this spot, he could smell the lingering presence of earth, as if a mage were playing about with their power, whiling away the hours in constant boredom.
No matter. There was no one there.
Kranath pushed this door open as well, pale fingers pressing against it. He stepped inside, a shadow flitting about more shadows.
He cast his gaze upon an old table, littered with old scrolls and dusty tomes. This, he decided, was where he would work and, after quickly ascertaining that none of the documents were what he was seeking, he swept the tables contents to the floor with one arm.
And then he went searching, looking for the best leads he could find. He carried tomes of Dragon Geneology, books filled with Arcane legends, scrolls that may have a single scrap of useful information.
There he sat, and he read. He'd go through the whole library if need be.