A harsh wind blew through the empty, frozen, wasteland. Small rocky hills and mountains placed randomly around the immediate area. This was one of the northernmost areas of the Land of Snow. Barren, cold, icy-- no shinobi civilization for miles and miles.
A group of people stood at the base of one of these snow covered mountains. They were clothed in fur, shielding most of their body from the bitter chill. From what could be seen of them, they looked different than most people in the Land of Snow. Their fur clothing looked entirely made by hand, most of these strange people had wooden staffs of sorts with them, and their skin was several shades darker than the average Yukian. These people would soon be known as "Shamans" by the rest of the world.
One of the Shamans from the group spoke up in a foreign tongue not recognizable by a shinobi. "Laa’e um hred hot? 1 " What they were about to unleash back into the Land of Snow was truly terrible.
An elder man at the front of the group turned his head to look at the young woman who spoke. "Ih madrihos dow sol thas zaa sool um hred ni. Umr Neil mred lraahaf loot." The look on his face showed that they were already too far in to pull back now. "Nif Dragons tenf kloa nif dihza’k log. 2 "
Understanding, the woman bit her tongue and nodded her head. This was what they had to do to save their home from the shinobi foreigners. It just felt so wrong to have to fight violence with violence.
The oldest man of the group slammed the wooden staff onto the frozen ground beneath him. Chakra radiated from it.
Words in a foreign language was chanted from the man. While not many would be able to understand him, anyone could tell there was power in his voice. There wasn't just chakra escaping with every word he spoke, there were intense emotions and feelings.
Then, the other men and women chimed in. They were chanting as well.
"La’giinv od nif Nogaak, laad! Laad lod nih luv dingrah-vo! Kiv nife Lokuv lot tosl nundeif seib nhraaa umr neil! 3 " the elder shouted, his voice did not echo.
"Laad! Laad! Laad! Oorm! Nrud ga haw tusm! 4 " The choir of Shamans behind the elder continued to chant, their posture perfect and their voices filled with power.
The small, frozen mountain that the Shamans stood near began to glow. Not the mountain itself, but something beneath the ice and snow that covered it. There were seals with mystic writing that shined white-- the brightest white.
An immense amount of energy surged from the mountain as the glow died and the once-frozen mass was now dry and partially crumbling; the snow and ice and been effectively evaporated.
Quickly silent, the Shamans stood in awe as several massive, winged beasts slowly came back to life, having been released from the mountain. Old Dragons that have slept for centuries.
Already prepared to start that bitter struggle for survival once more, a rust-colored Dragon staggered up, getting on all fours as it whipped its mighty tail and shook its incredible wings, letting another harsh wind rip through the barren landscape along with a deep, fearsome, roar.
1 | Must we do this?
2 | You know what is at (mercy) if we do not. Our home's peace (depends on) it. The Dragons shall arise from the (bitter cold) earth.
3 | (Angels) of the Divine, return! Return from your (deep slumber)! Slay these devils that have been (harming) our home!
4 | Return! Return! Return! Gods! Bring fire to them!