Star Graveyard, Himalayas

In a location hidden away in the peak of the Himalayas, lies a massive, snowy valley.
Though many think it dangerous to visit, and often ignore it as a simple and uninteresting place, it's actually a graveyard for fallen Star Pilots thrown into the earth by Pitch during the end of the Golden Age.

Frozen and crippled, there are over hundreds of Star Ships lying about the snowy mountainsides, with their decaying pilots still inside.

It's a hauntingly beautiful place, and even holds several secrets of the past Golden Ages within the frozen fingers of many pilots.


(( And a bit of lore of the Golden Ages- so you know why they're there. ))

Star Pilots are the dream-givers and wish0granters of the galaxies. Ever seen a shooting star in the night sky and made a wish? You can bet that is a Star Pilot, flying their golden ships through the sky.
During the Golden Ages, their power was great. They could grant wishes like no other, and their dreams filled every dark crevice of space.

When Kozmotis Pitchiner became the Nightmare King, it was his quest to destroy all Star Pilots he could- for both his own purposes and the mere fun of it.
He was known to harpoon the ships and send them hurtling to their doom- into planets or asteroid belts or even black holes. He was merciless.
Only one Star Pilot lived to tell the tale- though he doesn't ever really say it. Sanderson ManSnoozie, or the Sandman, is the granter of earth dreams, and the only surviving Star Pilot.
All others have been destroyed.

This day was particularly cold, in the Himalayas.
A bone-chilling breeze ruffled through the air, mixed with the ravishing sounds of painful moans and hungry snarls.

No animals were in sight, but still the sounds continued.
The Star Graveyard, as dead as it was, still held the activity of life. Hardly.

Around one secluded star-ship, shadows and fearlings were pulling at a being inside.
Drabbles of blood coated the blinding fresh snow as the group of the creatures broke off and fought over scraps of their still-living prey, retreating into the darkness.

The broken being that remained clutching to life whimpered.
Another cold wind blew.

Appearing in the mountains, I find myself looking around to take in the landscape. It doesn't look like anything outside the elements will present a threat.

I need to be especially on guard then.

Golden ships, all varying in damage and age, lied in a massive spreading throughout the valley between mountains.

In a pause between breezes, another whimper echoed through the landscape.
The survivor, over hundreds of years old but still looking like a teenager in age, rolled in their seat, hugging the trinket held in a fist in low hopes.

I approach the strange one, getting right to the point as per usual, "I need information on the good general."

The Star-ship Pilot looked up.
His face was young, his hair a dirty gold, spattered with dried blood and black nightmare sand.
He had not slept.

His uniform was torn and dirty, frosted over years of the inability to move.
Twisting his torso to look toward the newcomer, eyes retracting to a pinpoint in fear, before dilating again in realization.
This person was looking on information of the Good General...

Blinking golden eyes that held dark circles of exhaustion, the young Star Pilot sat up as much as he could, a grimace of pain shooting over his features.

"The Good General.. he- ... he did this to us. He was corrupted... by the Fearlings... and the Nightmare Men... his daughter.. he loved his daughter and- and his locket... so he could see her every day.."
A pause, his fist clenched around the golden thing in his hand, the broken chain sliding around his pale fingers.
Another grimace and a groan, he leaned back into his damaged chai, paralysed legs sitting lifelessly and frozen where they were.
"His daughter, Serephina Pitchiner... he loved her so much, but the fearlings devoured his soul and hardened his heart-"

I go down to his level and help to try and shift him into a comfortable position, "Where is this Serephina now?" I hold onto his hand as though beckoning him to stay with me.

gtg bye!

(( bye. c: ))

Another grimace and a retching cough.
Finally, someone had come to help with the Nightmare King.

The otherworldly star-pilot looked about, momentarily, as if dazed.
He shook his head.
"... -d...don't know..."

His answer was met with a strong gust of freezing wind that paled his skin further, lips going blue with cold and lack of blood.
He was slowly dying.
"B-but...- but here..."
The hand that Crest was holding to shifted, and rolled until his palm was facing Crest's, opening his hand, so the locket pressed to the other's hand.
"-Her picture-... inside.."

I take the locket, understanding it's value, and I also notice him dying, "Here, I'll take you to get healed up."

The young Star Pilot paused, looking as if thinking about what to answer.
He retched another cough, blood gently spattering his lips.

"... Lunanoffs bless my death and-"
He hacked again, chest heaving with the effort, face turning icy pale.
"... and stars help the Good General."


With that, the Star-Pilot looked to the sky, which was slowly starting to turn dark, and gave up his life.
Hundreds of years, trapped here, and Pitch's fearlings had finally finished him off.
One of the last Star Pilots alive was dead.

OOC I won't be on long sadly

IC

The man was dead. A sad ending that I couldn't help but be moved by. I close his eyes out of respect for the man I had known not 10 minutes ago. He deserved a burial, one I would return to give him when the mission was over.

I stand up, pocketing the locket, and start making my way out of the winds.

(( that's all right. Would you like someone right now? I have nothing else here atm. ))

I can return to Cyn and Top maybe?

(( up to you~ It works with me. c: ))

I'll do that to the owlery