Return of the Dragon Tamers: The Plague of Ogual

Soulserenity20 · May 24, 2014

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Return of the Dragon Tamers
The time has come for the dragons and the humans to join forces once again...
Hunting the Blackshire Stags

Narien, Illyria, Avren, Pomona

Reverie, Xylia, Alder, Saira
Terria has been rescued and returned safely to the meadow. Her retrieval came at the cost of another talented tamer: Goliath, and his dragon Hezekiah. Terria slumbers in sickness of the body and the mind even as Merrik has spent more than a week at her side, healing her thrice daily, doing everything in his power to bring her back to the Order.

The party that ventured to eastern Galidus to sort out the issues in Kibran returned with a new stranger who turned out to be the bondmate of the Valor dragoness, Andraste. Alder Grey has joined the ranks of the Order and now works to find his place.

Shortly after the Order's reuniting in the meadow, a council was called the a vote was ordered for the army's next tactical move. With the votes in, the Order is now set on unlocking the memories of the strange man Bren and travelling to Galidus to meet with the new king, Kylvest Brohn of Trespa while simultaneously meeting with the People of Dragons elders.

Before the Order sets off once more, they are taking time to return to their training at the meadow and heal their hearts and bodies. At current, Merrik has chosen to mix things up and brought the Order out to the north-eastern woods to hunt for Obsidian Nova's favorite game: Blackshire Stags. After a great deal of drama in Kibran regarding Merrik's decisions on leadership, he hopes that the Order will begin to sort itself out within the ranks and grow to trust each other more deeply in a time when trust among comrades is a necessity.
Character Hex Colors
[spoili]
Aerarya is #800080
Saira is #33cccc
Merrik is Red
Nova is Black with Shadow and Italic.
Avren is Green
Viridian is Yellow Green with Italic.
Terria is Dark Azure
Taega is Medium Gray with Glow and Italic.
Requiem is Maroon
Aleria is Dark Green.
Agni color is #999999
Narien is #0092b3

[/spoili]
Soulserenity20 ---- Merrik Tetra ----- Obsidian Nova, Nightmare Dragon
Soulserenity20 -----Terria Tetra ----- Ataegana Kuu'iah, Lunar Dragon
Soulserenity20 -----Avren Lebram ----- Viridian, Forest Dragon
Rainjay -----Saira Rinien ----- Aerarya, Atmosphere Dragon
Rainjay -----Illyria Rowena Renthir ----- Mirazh, Desert Dragon
Firejay1 -----Narien Ki'ila ----- Angi, Arcane Dragon
White -----Rèverie Gray ----- Celeste, Celestial Dragon
Mowkie ----- Pomona Ayelet Muldell ----- Katla, Vanity Dragon
Mowkie ----- Alder Balthazar Grey ----- Andraste, Valor Dragon
Crimson77 ----- Xylia Kalei Iwalani ----- Deventh, Swamp Dragon
Tetra Estate - Coliseum, 8:17am

The morning air was cool and crisp, the last signs of Winter nipping at Spring's hold on the lands. There was a deep fog rolling in over the eastern forest, blanketing the ancient trees with an eerie, chilling veil. A pair of deep green eyes scanned the surrounding landscape from a hundred feet in the air. Their owner felt no fear, no discomfort of the altitude, being as much at home in the skies as he was on the earth. While the height and the crisp morning air did not bother him, a deep concern was festering within the corners of his mind. It was not unusual for worry and concern to waft about in his thoughts, but the intensity of today's concern was unprecedented.

There was a silence that surrounded him, cocooning him in its peaceful tendrils, broken only by the steady whoosh of powerful wings. With each heavy downbeat, the man in the sky would exhale, taking in the pristine air the ancient woods provided and letting it out in a meditative manner. His dark hair swayed gently, not by breeze, but by wing-beat. The man was concentrating on the legend that was about to begin a hundred feet below him. The man was sorting out his thoughts, organizing his concerns, perfecting his plan of action. Worrying. Concerning himself. Stressing.

The mind is of no use when it is tangled and knotted with stress and worry.

Merrik Tetra opened his eyes as a wave of reassurance swept into his mind, settling what had been stirred up, putting his last lingering thoughts in the right place, and shouldering the mental burden that so commonly threatened to crush him.

"Your wisdom could not have been more welcome. But to execute concern would be unwise. Today the stories of the world will shift mid-sentence, a new chapter forcing its way into a tale of growing darkness. Today the legends of old will be reborn, history repeating itself at the hands of peril upon these lands." Though his lips did not move and no sound rang out into the air, his words found their way into the mind that commanded the wings beating powerfully at Merrik's sides.

The man in the sky was not alone.

A hundred feet above the Tetra Estate, a creature of myth lingered in the air, sustained by the grip of its thick wing membranes on the cool morning air. The creature was massive, larger than any common animal of the lands, and it wore a cloak of scales as black as a night sky devoid of any stars. Blood red eyes that made every onlooker feel like prey blinked slowly as they stared at the distant fog bank. It's vast wings, cloaked in the same obsidian scales that coated the beast's muscular body, wore rings, red as the most scalding lava.

The creature was a dragon. A Nightmare Dragon, to be specific; a beast of legends and fairy tales from a time long ago, long before the memories of even the oldest human. For hundreds of years the sound of heavy wing-beats parting the air could not be heard in these lands, or any other for that matter. For hundreds of years, the great draconic race was thought to have been extinct, perished by the hands of elves or man or even time itself.

Few would believe their eyes. But Merrik Tetra would not so much as blink at the site of such a creature, for the dragon of nightmares and terror that claimed the skies was his dragon, and Merrik was its human. They were soulmates, best friends, companions, one.

More than 2 decades ago, when Merrik was just a little boy, he was brought down into a damp, dark cellar in the depths of his family's manor. There, he received an egg. From within that egg came a voice, though not one any other person would hear, unless it so chose to be heard. Within that egg was a hatchling nightmare dragon, the same drake upon which Merrik sat at that very moment. The dragon was given to him by a strange, mysterious old man who called himself The Oracle. This man changed Merrik's life, shifted his path of fate to one of severity and ultimatum. His life for the next two years was leading up to this moment, this cool spring morning.

Today, Merrik was going to form an army, a re-birthed order of old, summoned up again to bring forth a the great protectors of Illos. Today, Merrik was going to change the lives of a group of individuals, the very same individuals that stood a hundred feet below him in the center of a coliseum. Behind the doors that lined the walls of the coliseum were more dragons. More disbelief shattered by flesh and blood. Two years ago, Merrik had once again been summoned into that musky cellar where The Oracle appeared once agian. This time, Merrik didn't receive one egg; he received an entire clutch, each one a different color, texture and size.

From those eggs hatched dragons, one of each of the draconic species, apart from the Nightmares. Those hatchlings had spent the last two years of their lives growing and learning from Merrik and his dragon, Obsidian Nova. They were being trained and prepared for this very day, this moment. Each of the drakes behind those heavy wooden doors lacked a piece of its soul, a part of it that could never have been filled. Not until now.

The group of people standing, uncertain in the middle of the coliseum, were chosen long ago, though they could not have known it. The Oracle had selected them at birth, when their souls entered into their bodies with their first breath. Each soul chosen, was the missing half of one of the dragons below. And today, those two souls would collide and fuse together, changing the fate of Illos forever.

"They know so little of what is to come." Came Merrik's soundless voice from his own mind into the dragon's.
The less they know, the less they can fear and fight what is to be. Though we know that each of the humans below is the soulmate of one of our yearlings, the yearlings do not know for certain. They believe that these are mere potential candidates for the bond. They will test them just as a wild dragon would have tested the first of the dragonlords so long ago. The humans will pass these tests, of this we have been assured by The Oracle. Everything is set into motion.

Let their oblivion be their guide, for both dragon and human. Let the bond work in its natural ways, it will give them strength in the long run. The humans MUST prove themselves to their drake, not only for tradition's sake, but to unlock the power that hides within their blood. Tamers are not made, they are born at the very moment a dragon's soul awakens. In that moment, the two become connected, separated only by distance and time. The tamers have an ancient magic within their veins, though they do not know it yet.

Today, the bond with unlock that magic and change their lives forever. We should not delay it any longer.

Obsidian Nova had a way about him that commanded submission and trust. There was no one else in the world that could calm and reassure Merrik in such a way as the black dragon. Nova had an ancient wisdom to him that came with being a direct descendant of one of the first bonded dragons of the Order of Old. Though merely 21 by age, the dragon's wisdom went on for centuries. Merrik agreed without a word or thought.

With perfect intent-directed synchrony, the dragon descended, lowing the pair and coming to rest on a great stone perch that sat at the head of the coliseum. As the dragon's talons touched down on the stone and his great wingspan retracted to a resting position, Merrik stood up from his place at the base of Nova's neck and slipped down off the dragon's back without a sliver of difficulty, landing on the thick, stone perch below.

The attention of the visitors in the centre of the round mass of earth focused on him. Some eyes shone with excitement, others with a sly intent, and others with a plain annoyance. There was too much personality within that circle for Merrik to handle all at once. He silently thanked the gods of old that he didn't have to get up close and personal with the entire group just yet. For now, the focus of attention was on dragons, and Merrik was completely at home in the realm of dragons.

"You have all be told of your purpose for standing her today. I can understand if some or many of your minds linger in disbelief, this is an event of dreams and myth. But make no mistake, you are here to become heroes, legends, and leaders. You are here to become one with beasts of old, powerful creatures not seen in these lands for hundreds of years." He walked to the end of the perch, balancing casually on the round, stone hold.

"The doors that surround you are the temporary dens of the dragons of Illos. The doors will open in a few moments. You must all be strong, be fast, and be brave. Today, you become dragon tamers."
Then, Merrik's deep green eyes became twice as vibrant as any human's and he swirled his right index finger in a curious manner, concentration clear on his expression. The doors slid open, lifting up to reveals cascading plumes of steam as the temperature difference made itself apparent. The cool morning air welcomed the sound of wingbeats, too many to count, as a mass of dragons shot out of the dark spaces and soared up into the air. Flames of every color decorated the skies, scaled beasts of every shape, size and color bolted about before peeling off from the group and honing in on select individuals.

One of the dragons shot a jet of colored flame down at the ground, nearing searing one of the soon-to-be tamers. The tests had begun.

Merrik and Nova watched silently as the young dragons they had raised from hatchlings attacked, questioned, chased, scared, and tested the group of visitors. Each was seeking a human worthy of their soul, of their life, of their bond. Each would find a human, though they did not know it, and until then, they would test their worthiness endlessly. Merrik pitied the men and women below, for they had not been informed of what the bond was, nor were they informed of the fact that the tests the dragons subjected them to would look more like an attack than anything, despite the fact that the drakes would not actually harm them. This pity went away mere moments after it arrived as Nova's presence in his soul shifted with the drake's emotion. Any amount of terror and confusion was worth the bond of dragon and tamer.
Combat Event Guide
+Steps+
1. GM Scenario Introduction.
2. Player Response. Combat Begins.
3. GM Response to Combat. Required die roll will be presented.
4. Player Response. Player Roll. Player may close combat.
5. GM Combat Close Response (if necessary)
+Basics Behind the Rolls+

Three Types of Opponents: Basic, Challenging, and Boss.
Basic: Just classic battling. It is generally expected that your character can handle this with general ease.
Challenging: These will require higher rolls and a bit of strength in whatever technique the character uses to attack.
Boss: These will require the best rolls, the most creativity, and the best weaponry/spells/approaches suited to the character.

Three Types of Character Approaches: Strength, Weakness, Long Shot.
Strength: The character attacks within their class/strength/ability.
Weakness: The player attacks in a class/ability that they are not necessarily comfortable or entirely skilled at.
Long Shot: The player is being an idiot and doing something that would never work unless the die gods are on their sides.

+How Opponent Types and Character Approaches work together+
BASIC OPPONENT
Strength Base Roll: 12
Weakness Base Roll: 14
Long Shot Base Roll: 16

CHALLENGING OPPONENT
Strength Base Roll: 14
Weakness Base Roll: 16
Long Shot Base Roll: 20

BOSS OPPONENT
Strength Base Roll: 18
Weakness Base Roll: 20
Long Shot Base Roll: 25 (requires stat bonus)

NOTE: In a boss battle, there will be much more discretion for creativity and teamwork between players. Successful rolls will mean successful hits, NOT kills. Furthermore, for boss rolls, because they are much more difficult, the player will get a 'second chance' roll if their first roll is not successful.
In Step 3, where the GM presents the required roll, it will have the relevant stats already added in and will be presented in a manner to explain the reason the roll is what it is. Stats are applied by level of skill, as portrayed:
5% = Beginner ----> No Mod
10% = Applicable ----> No Mod
20% = Novice ----> +1
30% = Adept ----> +2
45% = Advanced ----> +3
50% = Expert ----> +4
65% = Sage (Mortal Mastery) ----> + 5

Example:
Shirin Vs. Challenging Opponent, Strength (Longsword)
Base Roll: 14
35% in long sword, +2 Bonus
14% in valor, +1 Bonus
14% in strength, +1 Bonus.

14 - 2 - 1 - 1 = 10 Required.

The player will then post a blank post with "Rolling..." posted and then roll a 20 sided dice (D20) on that post. Then the player will post a SECOND post with their response in accordance with how their roll went. They can wrap it up themselves (Step 4), or the GM can add a post in at the end to wrap it up accordingly.

WARNING: If you delete ANY POSTS in these events, I will assume you're trying to cheat and get a better roll. I don't want any explanations, I won't believe a word you say, and I'll roll FOR you with a penalty of 5 added onto the battle. This means, for example, Shirin would need a 15 instead of a 10. If you make a mistake, for example, roll a D6, or roll twice. LEAVE IT. I have eyes. I can see the mistakes.

[spoili][/spoili]

Nue · Jun 8, 2014

Falor was busy stroking Dakan's neck when he heard a voice coming from none other than the great Merrik Tetra, "Though you might not feel it, you all look as if you were born atop a dragon. It is a proud sight indeed to see these young drakes bonded to such strong people. I've seen enough to trust you all to make the flight to your new home. You'll be living here on the estate from now on. Here you will learn and train, perfecting your skills until the day comes that we face our opponent. But for now, you all look in need of food, drink, and rest. Our destination is a clearing, deep within the eastern woods. It was once the home of the Old Order, and has been revived to suit our needs. The flight will take around 4 hours. Long distance flying is a little more strenuous than gliding about on warm air. You'll be sore, and you'll be tired when we arrive, but you'll certainly dismount with a greater knowledge and understanding of your dragon and how their bodies work and move." he flew around the entire place to make sure everyone heard, then spoke Obsidian Nova telepathically, following the same ritual, We'll be flying in a diamond formation, the dragons are accustomed to it, they'll take their places at random for now, but on later dates, this formation will be set according to position and duty. Do not fall behind, we won't be slowing down for anyone. This flight will give you a taste of what is to come, there's not point in prolonging it. You will be sore, you will be uncomfortable, you will deal with it. You young ones will be surprised at the difference in energy you expend while carrying a passenger over a great distance. Falor watched the black dragon immediately fly in past them all with great speed., and the others clumsily followed, eventually into a diamond, Falor and Dakan ended up closer to that man with the pink dragon. This time he got a better look at the man, he was quite tan, and he looked set to definitely pick up more ladies than the man he saw previously. He looked deep in thought as he seemed to be studying something, then as the diamond began to stabilize, Dakan was pushed back slots all the way toward the very back of the right side with Dakan, he stared at the lustrous view, the sun shining in the sky, with its rays shining down on the ground, painting it with little specks of gold all about the place. It was nice. Falor couldn't help but give a little smile at it. Dakan came over to Falor with his thoughts, "It is so magnificent, this is a sight to truly remember... not that i would forget about these things anyways, like for example, the tiny changes of the types of trees from tiny to more taller, burlier trees, the shift is quite magnificent, notice the temperature change, it is much more cooler than before, and thus the trees change." Falor looked down at his head, "Yes, it is true, tell me about your thoughts on today granted you can take this endeavoring and long ride." Dakan nodded in agreement, "This, this is easy, a breeze compared to most, unlike these energetic peepholes, I know how to be lazy when I glide, granted this is higher elevation than most of my travels...it is still a mere-"
"mm hmm?"
"Oh! Yes! My day, well my day went magnificently thank you, what did we see today, well, since bonding, a young girl with magnificent black hair get almost seared, that we are almost ghosts compared to the other people, who seem to be having a good time. Hmm...I told you about the majority of these dragons, We flew, mostly away from the group set up, flew in a diamond formation, and got set back here behind that butt-hole Byriarti, and looked at the pretty scenery...oh and we flew of course! Well, that... is my version of a summary." Falor put his hand on his chin. "You are very intelligent, but I must admit you are not the wisest out of the two of us."
"Really? Prove it."
"If you look very hard at these people, you can see that many of them have huge hardships, especially with themselves? For example, did you know that Byriarti and Wither's tamers knew each other? Or that that red-haired lady who is the tamer of the big, brown dragon? She has met Merrik before? Quite strange actually. But it is as so?"
"How did you get all this information from just a quick glance at them?"
"I am old, for once, and for the other, when someone recognizes another, they give of a certain stance, like killing someone you have met before, It is really not a hard concept to grasp...unless your Dakan Surad maybe." The dragon spat back at him, "Hey! Not funny! Anyways, do you speak from expierience, Falor?"
"I do, but that is for a later time." the dragon wriggled his head and neck, and Falor stroked it lightly. He then looked at the sunset nesting on the edge, slowly darkening everything that was the ground and hills. And the sky is not a bright orange, it has been around four hours, and the pair are as lively as ever. eventually, Falor could barely make out a large, wooden structure surrounded by beautiful landscaping and roads. Dakan gave him a brief thought "This, this is The Great Stables Merrik must've been talking about, seems homely." Falor nodded in agreement as the dragons descended, one by one. As always, Dakan and Falor were always last and late to the party. But they caught Merrik Tetra giving another conversation toward us;
"I welcome you all to your new home. This garden was born many, many centuries ago. This stable is as old as the Order itself and was built by the my ancestor Merrikhai Tetra from the wood of an ancient grove of white oak trees. The magic in their strong limbs offered protection from any outsiders. None can hear our words here, none can spy into our activities, and none can harm us with any level of ease. These grounds are sacred. You will respect them will the entirety of your heart and soul and keep deep thanks in your minds for the security they offer us, especially with what lies in the not so distant East. Not even the dark lord can penetrate these ancient magicks, though do not assume he has not, and will not continue to try."
Pausing, he mentally requested Nova open the large doors that enclosed the heart of the meadow. Despite their size, even a hatchling could open them. For the doors were enchanted, protected further by the Old Order; only a dragon with the blood of one of the original bonded drakes and their soulmates could open these doors.
"In the stables before you, each of you will have an assigned stall and a loft above it to call your own. The stall in the far back on your left has been converted into a kitchen, the one on the right into a wash house divided into two sections for the men and women. At all times, you will keep your living quarters in acceptable condition. If I find so much as one plate of rotting food or a pile of laundry letting off its stench, you'll pay for it in your training. I am many things to you, a mentor, a leader, perhaps even a friend, but I am not your caretaker nor am I your mother." Beckoning then to the clearing behind them he drew their attention to the center of the meadow where a ring of trees encased a large stone table.
"In the center of the meadow there, within the ring of white oak trees is a table. From tomorrow, and every day from then on when we are at this meadow, we will meet there for dinner. It will be a time to discuss and strategize as a group. Your training is important, make no mistake, but it is also important for you all to get accustomed to one another, for we won't often go our separate ways. For today you have no obligations as your rest is more important than any discussion tonight. You've all had a big day today and you've all earned a period of rest before being thrown into training."
Falor continued as Merrik continued discussing on what was already set up for them, and the dangers of leaving and that you have some free time to yourselves, he then turned to his dragon, who looked at him with his glossy, yellow eyes, Falor cannot believe this...he is begging again! He waved them off "Yes, you are free to roam, now get lost!" Dakan smiled as he gusted his wings, and flew off in the direction of the pool perhaps, meanwhile, Dakan got a little alone time to spend looking at the beauty that was The Great Stables themselves. This place can be summed up into one word right now, and Dakan even said it...homely. He went towards the table within the ring of white oak tees, and sat down to eat for a bit. It was real dark, nighttime dark now, and a few lights between here and the Stables were the only noticeable light sources at that moment in time, He sat and ate with only a few people, in whom he did not pay attention too, as he wanted to just eat fast and get things over with. However, he did notice there was quite a bit of food on the table what the heck do they think they are doing? Making us fat? Well Falor wasn't falling for it as he finished his plate, cleaned it, and placed it where it was supposed to be, and looked for his stall in the stables, sure enough, there it was, neatly named 'Falor Hadrian and Dakan Surad', third one on the left from the entrance. the first thing he noticed about his stall, like all of them, was that it was HUGE, about the size of a small town. and definitely a pain to walk to and fro every morning. The next thing he noticed was that Dakan was already sleeping in there, curled up on a huge piece of sandstone, that seemed to morph to his shape, even when he shifted for comfort the rocked seemed to shift with it...strange. The room was a notably tan color, and sand seemed to cover the floor like a desert...ironic. Falor give himself a joke. I wonder if I can get lost and almost die in here? HA! He then turned around to see if anyone was still awake, turns out, Dakan seemed like the only one knocked out, most of the people were having converses with Merrik Tetra, Falor himself preferred to keep his greetings in talent rather than verbally. Instead, Falor went outside of the stables and pulled out his fathers journal, and began to read it. looking up at the stars as he did, and smiled, he flipped to a story his father told that had to do with the stars. It stated:

Dearest son,

Do you remember the time I talked to you about the 'Ayin Ma'sena'? Or the Sky Realm? It is a wonderful place to think about, what might go on in a place beyond our world? Just to think about it, a place where you can swim in the stars! Just think about each one being another world, just like ours? It seems like we are all separate, yet, we are all so close together. If only I could see the day where I swim with the stars, to possibly even touch one with my bare hands, and move them around to my specifications. I am sure son, that wherever you go, you will always end up a great man, and that before you die, you will get an opportunity to swim with the stars, and meet the other worlds just like ours...

Your father,
Kha Hadrian

With that being said, Falor looked up, and encircled his hand around a star than brought down his hands. Falor thought to himself.
I think I just swam with the stars tonight, thanks to my buddy Dakan. Falor couldn't help but like the dragon, he was better than any partner, even though he is annoying an overconfident at times. Just speaking about him, the tan dragon attempted to sneak up on him. but Falor's a bit too smart for that. "I know you are behind me." the dragon stopped, snorted, then nudged his shoulder with his head. "You didn't think I had forgotten about that secret now?" Falor crossed his arms and spoke with an adventurous tone, "Ahh yes, you are referring to the time when I killed my 'friend' Aleah Manders, she was a nice lady for the longest time, until she was offered a bribe she couldn't refuse--her redemption, and honestly, in her shoes I would have done the same thing. It was a dark, hot, night. I was returning to the inn we were staying at for the night on our travels. She said she would run ahead and set up the place for leave tomorrow, so I was alone, and there I was, jumped by some hired thugs, they weren't that hard to kill, there were only four of them, and back in the old days, I had good nightvision. I killed them swiftly, no need to interrogate, for at that point it was obvious who it was. I busted through the door and saw her give that stance of 'I know you' an then after that it was a stance of 'why are you still alive?' but to shorten it up, she was in there with another man, the one who offered her the deal, and they both were killed by my blade." he said as he pulled it out for an added dramatic effect. Dakan nodded, "And what happened after that?" Falor shrugged his shoulders and put his sword back. "Well after that I left town before the guards coul trace me. And that was that, happy with your secret now?" Dakan nodded again, "I am grandpa!"
"Good, now of to bed with you, I will be there with you, in a minute." he then stated as he turned around to see that beautiful, mute, platinum-haired lady who had been giving him the eye all day.
he turned back around from his peering to continue looking at the stars.
The sky looks very lovely tonight.

Soulserenity20 · Jun 8, 2014

Dragon Stables-5:42pm

Obsidian Nova's mind had been consuming a much larger portion of his energy today than it possibly ever had. Not only was his protective instinct running on high for the dragons, a primitive, uncontrollable urge that could not be settled by any level of logic. Of course he knew today was the most important day in their lives and had done then more good than he could have in a thousand years. But the paternal side of him had been on edge with every movement from the outsiders. They had arrived with weapons, pasts, and minds his morals would not let him invade. The day had gone well enough, despite there being a few situations that he could have gone without. Like Halezes almost dropping her tamer to her death, or the realisation of a dark history between Byriarti and Wither's tamers, or the little lash of dominance P'laorz had shown.

While it was true that the drakes were quickly reaching a prime age of maturity, even with mere years under their wings, Obsidian Nova had put off thinking about how he would go about mediating the younger drakes when their natural, timeless urges came out. Urges that had defined the draconic species in the story books of man. He himself had experienced the change within himself at around 2 1/6 years of age, though at that time he hadn't even known that there would be more dragons. That information was not openly revealed to himself and to Merrik until Merrik was closer to 10. So while Nova had gone through the pubescent surges of aggression and dominance, it had affected his life very little, for what was a dominant drake with none to dominate? Of course eventually he fell into a rivalry with a nasty, feathered lord of the lower skies. The great Blood Eagle had tried to best a young Obsidian Nova many times but despite its massive size, those hollow bones and flimsy wings stood no chance in a match against a great Nightmare Dragon.

Oddly enough, the Lord of the Blood Eagles was now a dear, old friend of his. The rivalry still burned bright, but the two had a great respect for each other. Though rarely did they cross paths, the two wouldn't pass up the chance at a race, dressed with all the cussing and taunting of the old days.

When the party had arrived and their welcome came to an end, he respectfully took his leave, wishing to take a bit of a break from the commotion of the day and reclaim some of his energy before he lead off on a hunt. On the flight here he had caught the distinct scent of a Blackshire buck in the area. A prey of such dexterity, this far north of its native lands, was not something Nova was about to pass up. A buck of Blackshire, as well as any doe or fawn, was one of the fastest, strongest, wittiest prey he had found in these woods. The massive silvery stags, with racks as black as his own hide, were descendants of the very same stags his ancestors once hunted, and the rush of hunting such a beast brought a thrill to the nightmare drake that could not often be replicated. The savoury flavour of the meat alone was reason enough to expend such great energy on a single hunt.

As his thoughts relaxed, his plans now made, he allowed himself to begin to fall into slumber. Just before his mind reached the shore of dreams, a familiar presence entered into his mind, sending a wave of heat rushing down his spine. Opening his eyes, he saw the elegant form of Verebera and her meek, warm-hearted tamer, Asa. It had been said that Asa was a mute, that she could not speak. But in a world of dragons, where decibels meant little, the woman's words were as sweet and sure as the woman herself. Nova found the so-called mute to be a great pleasure to interact with.

When he looked up at the small, blonde haired human, he watched her dip into a low bow, no words accompanying her arrival or gesture. Nova smiled, letting out a puff of smoke in amusement. Just then, Verebera sneezed behind her tamer, startling the little human. Nova looked at her from his obsidian nest, blinking his eyes slowly, May fortune grace your health, Verebera. Or, how does Merrik say it... God bless you? He shook his head at the unusual human saying. Hello to you too, and to you Miss Asa.

As the pair departed after bidding their farewells, the black dragon found his gaze lingering on the place the white dragon once stood. He remembered the day she hatched, how small, how precious, how pure she was. Ever since that first day he had harboured a respectful fascination with the drake, for she was everything he was not. Where he was fear, she was peace and comfort. Where he was darkness, she was light. He was death, and she was life. She was beauty.

He sighed, letting his thoughts go and laid his massive head back down onto the lip of the dark, stone dish. Not long after, he was far from the waking lands and peacefully venturing through his subconscious. He stirred slightly as the mental presence Veshna approached, taking a place outside his stall, her tamer passing by him with respect embedded into his steps.

Good, someone has decided to go bother Merrik. It'll do the man some good to connect with someone. And if not, it'll do him some good to have to try. He thought, just barely surfacing from his dreams.

Forest Garden-6:32pm

It wasn't long after Hakeem had ventured into Merrik's loft that Obsidian Nova found himself feeling much more energized and, in return, much hungrier. Lifting his head and opening massive jaws in a sleepy yawn, the drake rose up and stepped out of his dish onto the worn, obsidian floors of the stable. He made it known to Merrik of his intentions, knowing the man would have no objection as he was consumed in his discussion with Hakeem and rarely did Merrik and Nova stress over placing a bit of distance between each other.

While they still felt the ever present pull of the bond, they had grown beyond the ache of distance and had to travel hundreds of mile away from each other before the pains settled in. The two usually chose to remain close more out of personal choice and preference than anything else. There was the odd occasion when Merrik would join him on a hunt. He in the skies, his tamer on the forest floor, sulking about in the shadows of the great trees, stalking the prey until an opportunity presented itself for either a kill or an ambush set up for Nova. The pain enjoyed spending time alone in the silence of the wild on the occasion; all the noise in the world was drowned in the peace of these ancient woods. Merrik had no fear of venturing into the territory the magical beings when Obsidian Nova was near; few could combat even a young dragon, and with Nova's size growing steadily with each year, the drake was becoming a more and more formidable opponent to any who sought to harm his soulmate.

Before making his exit, the black drake dipped his head to the bubbling pool of pristine blue water that constantly churned about in the corner of his, and every other dragon's, stall, providing fresh, cool, clean water for the inhabitants of the building. He had no concept of the magicks used to set this into motion, but he made a good guess that a deep sea dragon had something to do with it at one time or another.

As he exited his stall, the deep thud of his footsteps echoing down the quiet halls, he met the gaze of the small pink dragoness that lay peacefully on the floor beside his door, patiently awaiting her tamer to return. He nodded his head slowly and deeply to the female.

Veshna, please, go and rest in my nest. From what I can tell, those two will be in discussion for some time to come. I understand you don't want to be too far from Hakeem so soon after your bond. Please, I insist you rest on a more comfortable space. He bent his neck down and nudged the sweet, pink drake to her feet, knowing she wouldn't dare intrude on his space of her own accord. The young dragoness had the softest, largest heart, and would never dare insult or offend another. He understood her means, but nonetheless, he wouldn't let her sit out on the floors after her first flight under the weight of her tamer. When the rosy drake was coaxed far enough, he exhaled a fine plume of smoke from his nostrils, a common gesture of approval among dragons.

Rest well young one, I'll not likely return before their discussions come to an end, so worry not of my need of space. Good evening.

Exiting the stables through the grand doorway, Nova walked out a few yards, clearing his bulk from the structure, and sat on his haunches, front legs pressing against the ground as pulled his back into an 'S' shape, extending his wings fully to stretch out each flight muscle in his body. Dipping out of the stretch, he reached out his front limbs in each of his first few steps forward, stretching his back legs with each folowing step in a cat-like tone as he stretch the rest of his muscles, shoulders to tail tip.

Looking around at the beauty of the darkening night, he walked slowly and fluidly to the center of the meadow where, surrounded by a ring of majestic white beings, thousands of years older than any on these grounds, the majority of the new tamers and their drakes fed and lounged. Methuzar lay curled up, relaxing on the lush grass a little ways off so as to not disturb any of the party with his bulk. Always thinking of others.

As he walked past the table, the scent of food stimulating his hunting senses, he kindly noded hellos and good evenings to any who looked his way, taking a moment to appreciate the warm, calming emotions that drifted about the meadow. Truly, these grounds had not been done justice until the footsteps and voices accompanied those of dragons once more.

After his brief appearance and salutations, Nova slipped away from the chitter chatter of the table and let his feet carry him to the large, crystal clear pools the glimmered in the evening light. As he slid his black mass into the cool, clear waters, he sensed the presence of one of the yearlings, A'untyr. A few moments of looking revealed a gold shape slithering about under the water, fluid and shimmering. After a few moments, the golden dragon surfaced. Nova cut through the water, having no difficulty stay afloat as he was quite at home in these waters.

Good evening A'untyr. He said, bowing his head down so his chin dipped into the water. He then adjusted his body and set in for a sleek dive to the depths of the clear waters, enjoying the perfectly refreshing temperature of the pool.

I see you've been able to claim a bit of space from your tamer. That is a good sign, some were said to find it difficult to go even a few yards away when the bond is fresh. You've a healthy connection with Dalaith, though it's not surprising, with a mind as sharp as yours.

Slithering up from the bottom of the deep pool, he broke the surface and shook his upper body, flicking the droplets from his scales.

On the flight here, I caught the scent of a Blackshire Stag, there's no mistaking it. I've intentions of collect the game in a short while. Would you care to join me on the hunt? Even the smallest of their kind is meat enough for two dragons to share. His voice was deep and reverent as always, but a tone of excitement tugged at his words. Nova truly enjoyed hunting, especially by night. To become one with the darkness was to be at home for a Nightmare Dragon. He didn't need the advantage, and rarely used it when approaching the actual attack, but to soar silently through the skies in the cloak of the shadows of the clouds, nothing more than a shimmering wave in the blackness of the night sky, there were few things to match its splendour.

That is, he said, if your tamer is comfortable with you taking a leave of a few hours.

Shadicmaster · Jun 8, 2014

Flight->Forest Garden

Flight came easily to Dalaith. After she got over her slight bit of fear, that is. Now, there was little that could take away from the stunning experience. The beauty of the sun glinting off of the golden hued scales of her dragon was dazzling, enough to capture her attention for the rest of all time. She registered that their leaders were speaking, but she didnt quite comprehend it all. Never the less, Unityrim had no objection to following the instructions given without his rider's consent. He picked up the speed of his gliding with a few purposeful beats of his wings and fell into his place among his brethren, flying in the diamond without any trouble. He paid little mind to where in the formation he was, and more attention to the wings of the dragon in front of him, adjusting his course every so often to stay in the perfect zone that would let him fly off of the wake that the other dragon would create. There was wisdom in having them fly like this, especially for long voyages. This would keep all of the dragons strong for the flight, tiring minimally, though even with that assurance, four hours seemed to be a rather strenuous journey whilst carrying this girl he had bonded to. They continued to keep as far removed from eachother's minds as possible, but boredom soon overtook the young drake and he would rake Dalaith's brain by giving her riddle after riddle to solve, and posing battle plans, comparing knowledges of sciences and histories and all other things that could be thought of. By the time that they had arived, neither had noticed that they had gone any farther. The only thing that told of the long journey they completed was the gnawing hunger in A'untyr's belly and the ache that spread from his outstretched wings, to his shoulders, and along his back where his partner sat. They would definitely need to find a way to make this harness more comfortable, else he was liable to just nip it off of himself next time they were to fly.

Landing among the others, Dalaith quickly undid his soul-mate's harness and held it at her side whilst she listened to the speech given, their introduction to their new home. The place was truly a marvel to behold, but she couldn't let herself be too caught up in the beauty of the natural landscaping. She and A'untyr quickly followed after Merrik, heading off for their own stall, the golden dragon leading the way into a stall that bore a great golden nest that was imbedded with a few emerald stones. He adjusted some of the soft cushions in it so as to lay down, and Dalaith followed him over, lightly running her hand along his strong, and yet, lithe frame. A rumble rose in his throat that was reminiscent of a purr as he nuzzled her arm slightly, a bit of playfulness to it, but he was tired, and needed his rest. They parted ways, though only for Dalaith to climb the ladder at the back of the stall and look at where she would be calling her abode from now on. She smiled as she caught sight of the books that were aligned for her, walking over just to read their titles. Dragonic anatomy and the nature of the bond would be good to know of, but one that interested her far more was one bearing the title 'the art of knowledge: Why it is strength'. The girl quickly picked up the book and laid on her bed, reading feverishly. Unityrim was amused by her interest, but let her do so without disruption.

The thing that did disrupt the maiden, though, was her stomach. She had forgotten entirely about how little she had eaten, and so, she placed a small piece of paper as a mark in her book before walking out of the den. Unityrim was uncomfortable with his tamer heading off alone, but he didnt bother himself with waking to escort her around the clearing of their home. She would need to learn it for herself anyway. On the way out the stall, Dalaith grabbed her schedule for the foreseeable future, reading it over and committing it to memory as she walked along to the banquet tables that were spoken of. She wasn't all that comfortable with being around so many people at once when there was no real need for her interests among them in her opinion, so she did nothing more than take a thick cut of meat and a large ripe peach before taking her leave, hoping not to have been noticed by too many people. Once back at her stall, she ate her food in silence in the loft, slowly continuing her reading.

It took A'untyr quite a while to recover from the flight, but once ready, he got up, stretching his sore muscles and slowly walking from out of the stalls and down the quiet hallway to the clearing. He took a deep breath of the crisp air and sighed slightly, looking about before spreading his wings to stretch them as well before he flew off to the pools. He saw Daken there, but he didn't speak with the desert dragon, too occupied with relaxing in the cooling waters. He let himself dive deep beneath the surface and swim about for a bit, just then noticing the mental presence of Obsidian Nova. He surfaced, smiling slightly as he was greeted and giving a curt greeting of his own.

I see you've been able to claim a bit of space from your tamer. That is a good sign, some were said to find it difficult to go even a few yards away when the bond is fresh. You've a healthy connection with Dalaith, though it's not surprising, with a mind as sharp as yours.
The voice of his mentor and father figure was strong within his mind, but also relaxed. A hint of excitement dappled his words as if he were eager to speak something, but he entertained the conversation first.
The secret that i have found beneficial in the matter is not to delve so deeply into the heart and soul of the one whom you bond. Keep your mind to yourself as much as possible and it doesn't become such a hassle to act as your own person. The only problem is how hard it is to keep to yourself...
he replied with a slight sigh.
Anyway, what is it that excites you so, Nova? Has something come to your attention?
On the flight here, I caught the scent of a Blackshire Stag, there's no mistaking it. I've intentions of collect the game in a short while. Would you care to join me on the hunt? Even the smallest of their kind is meat enough for two dragons to share
A'untyr then understood the excitement as te same feeling coerced through him, only fueled by his own growing hunger.
Indeed i will come with you. Maybe a little smarts by way of your hunting would do you some good, Nova
he said humorously in reply, flicking his tail slightly. He wouldn't mind a slight tussle, just out of fun and good sport, but the hunt took much more precedence. He would do anything for just a taste of this catch.

A fond smile tugged at the dragon's black lips as he listened to the young drake display his intelligence and strategic once again as he had so many times. Nova took pride in A'untyr's intelligence even though the golden drake's own pride in himself was enough for any ego. He had enjoyed watching the young shimmering dragon grow and soar intellectually. A'untyr was constanly hounding Nova for answers to complex questions about the world, the past, about mana and magick, about war and fighting. While questions were to be expected from a young dragon, a younger A'untyr would often take overthinking to an unseen level. Demanding explanations for why the sun and moon moved about the skies in the ways they do or expecting Nova to explain to him what the bond would feel like. Of course this was impossible, the bond could never be put into words or explained, but that didn't satisfy the golden hatchling. To see him now, analyzing and understanding the bond much more quickly than normal was both expected, yet warming to see.

At the gold drake's remark of his wits, Nova chuffed a cloud of thick, sooty smoke at him, rolling his eyes as he climbed up onto the bank and shook the water from his scales before beating down his winds and ascending high up into the darkened sky, A'untyr close behind.

The two set of at a quick-paced across the forest, quickly leaving the meadow behind. When they had honed in on the general area of the Blackshire Stag's scent, they dipped down into the canopy, pupils dilating in the lessened light. As the pair darted about in the wide spaces of the older growth area of the woods they had come upon the shadows thickened under the ancient canopies and the spaces between trees widened as the trunks grew every steadily wider in diameter. This part of the woods, like several other groves in Sylvis, was home to trees that had been around since long before the elves, before when the Great Forest was little more than groves of trees stretching out their roots and seeds, extending their reach across the lands.

For a moment, the pair settled onto a branch of a great tree, so vast that a single limb could support the weight of them both. Sitting beneath the shadow of the great canopy, any onlooker would have seen but a single dragon. To most the rest of the world, Nova was not within visual range within shadows. To his fellow draconian though, he looked no less visible than he did in the middle of the day. Few creatures beyond dragons could see a nightmare drake in the shadows.

Long ago, his species was said to have spawned from darkness itself by man. Little did they know, foolish and blind as they were, that the dragons were spawned just like any other breed of dragon, their sudden appearance from within a shadow was nothing more than a magical trait evolved into their kind over millennia of evolution.

As they scanned the murky forest floors, their predatory eyes adjusting to any changes in light, maintaining perfect vision, the ever so faint sound of hoof on earth pricked Nova's hearing. As the pair shifted their gazes to the source of the sound, hundreds of feet below, a silver stag, twice the height of even the largest of Galidus' Tundra Moose bulls, and twice as thick as a Bohdra Mountain Ox, the Blackshire Stag at last appeared. Nova licked his lips in anticipation.

How do you want to do this A'untyr? Shall we make a game of it or pay the beast mercy and take it down swiftly?

The drake peered through the gathering darkness, amused by how oblivious some creatures could be. He then looked back to his mentor, emerald eyes cutting through the gloom to see the nightmare dragon's form.
"It very well depends on how urgently you need sustenance. Though with how serious and weighty the day has become, a bit of trickery and play would definitely lighten the mood." He replied craftily.

A'untyr didn't have to say it twice, Nova was always up for a game of chase, especially after prey that could actually outrun a clumsy dragon. Well then, lets see if this stag wants to play. The dragon word's were drenched in a playful, competitive tone. In the split second it took for the two drakes' intentions to synchronize they dropped forward off the thick limbs of the ancient trees and with nothing more than the clean swish of wings unfolding, they soared down through the murky air, descending down closer and closer to the massive silvery stag. When they were no more than 50 yards away from the beast, Obsidian Nova projected a glimpse of the stag's worst fear into the shadows, just past its peripherals. Severely spooked, the sound of hooves was quickly echoing through the woods.

The speed of the Blackshire stag was incredible. It's footing was firm, its kinetic confidence absolute. Few beings in the woods could move quite like a Blackshire Stag, though the does were a close second. When the creature had taken on a true pace, the dragons made themselves known, playing with the silvery creature by shooting thin flares out at the earth one either of its sides, weaving in an out of the trees at a rapid pace so as to keep up with the perfect veers and shifts the stag was presenting.

How's this for a game of chase A'untyr? It was an exhilerating workout, it was rare for another creature to tire a dragon in hunt and even more rare for prey to make Nova this determined and excited to take it down. The feeling of being challenged was a stellar high for beasts that look down on the rest of the world.

A'untyr did well to heed to his part of the chase so as not to loose hold of their quarry, letting loose light bits of his golden fire so as to herd the stag about when needed, thuroughly excited by the exillarating feeling of actually having to run and weave between the ancient trees so as to catch the game. What was slightly less predictable, however, was how the stag would react to Nova's fire as it could hardly be seen at all, so it would often run directly into its path before noticing it. At times it would continue on as it had been, though at other times it would veer off in fear and pose more of a challenge to the drakes to keep it contained.
I have yet to have such a satisfying chase in the past few months! But i feel that there is little more to do with the stag, unless you had further plans
The other said in reply, still keeping to a steady pace.

Nova flicked his tail in contemplation before agreeing that it was time to end the hunt. Snarling, the black dragon snapped his wings down, propelling himself forward with incredible speed. He took to the shadows of the great trees, invisible to his prey. Weaving in and out of the ancient wooden towers, picking a piece of earth to land on, his red eyes blinking slowly as he listened. He had positioned himself in such a way that the second the silver stag bolted past a the tree at his right, he sprang forward and sunk his teeth into the muscular, fleshy, severing the thick artery that ran the length of its neck.

His momentum sent the pair barrelling and the black dragon opened his massive wings, utilizing their drag to halt their movement as he solidly pinned the beast to the ground. A flash of gold at his side pulled out a primitive instinct, his pupils dilating, his throat begging to release a growl. But Obsidian Nova had more control over his body than his instincts did and he quickly calmed his feral side.

Lifted his head from the kill, a black tongue licked at blood dripping lips. As he stepped off the carcass, he turned his attention to A'untyr.
We should bring some of the meat back for the new tamers to experience. I can't imagine any of the newcomers have tasted the flesh of a Blackshire Stag. But for now this feast is ours. Partake freely my brother for you've earned it. I'm impressed by the agility and speed you displayed. And such little difficultly keeping up. Tearing a hind-leg from the fallen stag, he tossed it up into the air at the gold dragon at his side before ripping off a large section of flesh for himself.
I would soon hunt with you again A'untyr.

Letting Nova take the lead and make the final strike, A'untyr kept a more steady pace a small distance behind him, ensuring the stag wouldn't turn away from the proper course. Just the scent of blood in the air fed his wild temperament, but he soon calmed, finding himself now beside the great black dragon. He couldn't tell if he was on a course to attack him or to steal the prey, but he was glad he had stopped himself, as he had no wish to fight his mentor. With the kill still fresh, the golden drake gratefully took the meaty leg tossed over to him, though spoke his thanks before he ate.

Should you ever find yourself in need of a hunting partner again, I will more than happily join you, Obsidian Nova. I has been a true pleasure.

With that, he took a large bite from the leg as he held it down with one clawed forefoot, sinking his razor sharp teeth into the flesh and tearing back at it, letting the savory tastes of a fresh kill bathe his pallet.

Back in the stall, Dalaith found herself utterly confused, getting random flashes of exhilarated euphoria and brief glimpses of the hunt as through the eyes of her dragon. The sudden feelings were hard to prepare for, and of course, reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything more than a small bit of meat and fruit. Sighing and setting her book down, she decided that she would head off to the feast once more and gather a more substantial meal, hoping to meet A'untyr on the way, but perfectly fine if she didn't.

Mowkie · Jun 9, 2014

Time to Feel

The songs of the wind are a beauty to hear. The desire to fly forever rests in the hearts of both, despite the now numbing pain. Stormy, cold blue eyes look out before the great orange beast as his pink sister dips before him. The aroma of her beauitul little form fills him soul-deep, soothing him as the wind whips against him and his rider. Slowly, it makes its way to the warrior atop the beast, whose back was rigid before with the stabbing pain, as though her own body betrayed her. Now, she relaxes into the flight, feeling the smooth ways of the thick muscle. Byriarti sends a cooing thank you to his sister. Sure, emotion is not something he feels is dragonly, but for certain creatures of his species, there are exceptions. The little Veshna is one such thing. In fact, throughout the entirety of their growth, he has felt the need to protect the pearly pink creature, constantly watching over her in hopes that she becomes the quick-witted hunter she was born to be, despite her overly-concerned emotions. He flies somewhat above her, taking in the sunlight on his wings and body, giving his sister the shade she deserves as the air begins to heat up, the currents becoming easier and easier to ride upon.

Shirin settles now, feeling the welcome numbness as she takes in the smells of rejuvenation and joyous feelings. A smile actually appears upon her lips as her eyes close. Slowly, without moving too much over the fine hairs of her dragon, she leans into him, feeling him move. It is now that she realizes just how well she fits between the strong shoulders of the beast. It's as though, despite the painful hair beneath her, she was meant to sit here. And this is nothing like sitting upon a horse and riding to her next battle. This kind of ride is soothing and exhilarating at the same time. She can hear the wind sing, see the clouds dance, feel the sun laugh at the sight of new dragons flying into the skies. This is her destiny. This is where she is meant to be. She understands that now. And as she grows more accustomed to the flight patterns of her dragon, she begins to move more and more with him instead of simply being an idle passenger, taking some of her weight away and instead using it to help him soar.

Byriarti lets out a roar of pleasure, his body glowing with delightful flames as he finally feels the comfort of flying. His back is now completely numbed, and without the pain to bother him, he can put his mind and body to work. He banks left, letting his rider feel his movements, watching as Veshna follows beneath him. Another cooing thank you is send to her mind, something he does not do with any other dragon. As Shirin adjusts herself, he continues to ride the currents, straightening and banking right, doing slow, steady wiggles through the air. By now, his wings make little more than simple heartbeat sounds, barely moving on either side of him. I am Fire. I am Life! The thought soars through him as he takes a deep breath and rises in altitude, kicking and pumping his way up a few feet, delighted by the fact that still he feels little to no pain, even as the straps continue to rub and irritate his scales. Once he levels out again, Shirin takes the moment to loosen the straps enough to take the pressure from the fibers that enjoy so much to dance in the wind. She runs her fingers along them, feeling with him the tingling sensation that makes its way down her back. This sensation is not one of pain, but it almost feels ticklish. Byriarti looks back at his rider speculatively.

"They're soft." The gentle words of Shirin are caught on the wind behind her as the melodic silence continues to whip around them, but the words are stated into his thoughts gently as well. He huffs at her before turning and looking out towards Obsidian Nova and his rider. The next part of the day has begun now. With a slight mental warning to his rider, Byriarti makes a slow 180 to soar back towards the Nightmare Dragon almost lazily, finally fully comfortable in the air, even if he is more lumbering than the other beasts. The numb happiness both dragon and rider feel continues through the next set of orders, and even though they both know they'll be exhausted by the time they get there, they only feel a sense of euphoria.

Byriarti does his best to stay close to Veshna, only dipping once to quickly grab Shirin's sword still stuck in the sand in his den, knowing that without her soothing aroma, he and his rider will be in a world of complete agony. He continues to thank her at various occasions throughout the flight before falling back to hear the music of wings around him. Shirin, meanwhile, grows more and more comfortable upon the back of the beautiful Solar beast, enjoying the bright shimmer of his thick scales and the gentle glide of his flight. She would have never guessed he could fly so smoothly. And yet here he is flying as easily as any other dragon in the skies. Easier, even, than the birds above and below them. But he speaks to her slowly, showing her his memories of learning how to fly. Not all was easy...he is still a lumbering beast, and though he flies easily now, he cannot always stay near Veshna. The pain will return, and it will be something they must work through together.

Shirin gives a mental nod to her beast, acknowledging the fact that there is still a great deal of pain ahead. She is, after all, a warrior...she can handle it. She can handle whatever she needs to, for this is where she belongs.

When the great Forest Garden comes into view, Shirin loses her breath at the beauty of the sight. By this point, both dragon and rider are exhausted, doing everything they can to stay in the air. Veshna's aromas had slowly worn away as she, too, had grown tired. By this point, what comes of the pain is little compared to the strength of flying. Shirin keeps herself slightly off his back, using her strong legs to lift her from the hair, constantly feeling the tickling sensation between her own shoulder blades, feeling the pain only where the straps meet the dragon's back. "Is that where we are going?" She asks breathlessly, once more letting her words also slip into the mind of the beast. He gives her a mental nod as well as a slight smirk.

~Just wait until we are close to it. It is truly a grand place to be.~ His voice is light, winded within her thoughts, as though he is so exhausted he can barely speak. And as he does so, the formation begins to slowly descend towards the entrance to the place. Though flight is a grand feeling, Shirin feels the excitement of knowing she's about to once more be on the ground rise in her chest. As her excitement grows, so, too, does Byriarti's.

The landing is a rough one, despite the soft grass. Byriarti, by this point, is so tired that his legs don't work as proper landing gear. As he backwings for what is supposed to be a gentle landing, his back legs give the moment the weight is applied to the ground, and he lands in a more lying position than sitting, a grunt knocked from his chest as well as the chest of his rider, who slams right into the back of his neck, sending daggers of white hot pain through the back of her own neck. "S-sorry," she stammers, pulling the latch of harness from her waist and slipping from him in a not-so-graceful manner. Her own legs, tired from holding her up for four straight hours, give beneath her, sending her to her bum in the soft ground. This causes a chuckle to rise from Byriarti, whose usually cold blue eyes are now more of a stormy gray. ~At least I am not the only one having landing trouble. Now if you don't mind, I'd like this stupid harness off.~

Quickly, Shirin obliges, knowing the pain that she still feels tingling in her back has more to do with those leather straps than with her. She unbuckles the straps, pulling them from his back before unlooping them from around his legs and across his crest, pulling them into a bundle at her chest and smiling slightly up at the shimmering creature. After a few moments of walking around in circles, both dragon and rider have regained their legs. Shirin looks up at Byriarti a moment, spotting an area on his back where the hair has pinched between his scales. "Can I get that for you?" He glares at her a moment, skeptical, before nodding and letting her stand on his foreleg to reach up. Gently, she pulls the strand from between the scales, running her hand along the length of his back. Both of them shiver with the sensation, and the bubble of laughter rises in both of them. Neither are yet willing to indulge in such....childish tendencies, swallowing the laughter hard. Shirin jumps down from Byriarti and looks to Merrick and Nova, listening to what they have to say.

If Shirin thought it was beautiful before, she had no idea. The immaculate structure before her leaves the woman at a complete loss for words. Beside her, Byriarti gives another chuckle. ~It is truly an impressive home. You will enjoy your time here...this I swear.~ At this, Shirin turns and raises a flaxen brow at the beast. "I do hope you are right...but I cannot always stay here....After this war is over, I must go see my brother."

~The time will come soon enough...but for now, enjoy the beauties you have with me. Few humans get to see such raw beauty...and to think this place was built by humans.~

"You have to give us some credit."

~I only give you the credit you deserve. Which right now, the only credit I can give you is the credit of learning quickly how to fly without hurting us both. Of that, I am grateful. Now come and see what it is our Mentors wish us to be so thankful for.~ With that, Byriarti walks forward, folding his wings loosely against his back, walking forward slowly as to not leave his rider behind. After all, where shall she sleep if she does not know where to go? He lets her take in the sights, the sounds, the smells. Truly, the Forest Garden is another world. The blood red flowers flow gracefully in the still singing wind, and though the sunlight is broken by the trees, there is still enough to feel comfortable and safe.

Fifteen minutes of exploring finally leads the pair to the stall of which is claimed by Byriarti. On the gold placard is the name of both dragon and rider engraved in beautiful, fine text. "The Oracle must have known a lot...my name is already here." Byriarti gives a nod to his rider before entering his open stall. On either side is a mostly solid wall of white oak with beautiful holes carved in an intricate design to let in as much sunlight as possible. Meanwhile, on either end, the one facing towards the other stalls as well as the one facing the border around the garden is a small fence and nothing more, completely open to all forms of light. This is how the Solar Dragon prefers his nest, for it is comfortable and allows for the most amount of healing in the daylight. His nest, towards the center of the stall, is a little large for the beast, filled with gemstones that all seem to match the fire of the dragon's scales. Fire Agates, Topaz, even Garnets of blood red and pink and Amber of the deepest color. All cut smooth to create a bowl-like shape, hard enough to be heated by the dragon's flames. Even in the evening light, the gemstones glitter, strangely matching the shimmering scales of the dragon. Byriarti looks over at Shirin, smirking. ~I wouldn't suggest you get all soft on me and come cuddle. I like my bed hot.~ This comment granted the beast a glare from his rider, making him laugh aloud.

"I think I can manage without the cuddling, thank you."

~As you wish. Now, I would suggest you get settled, remove your armor, and go eat. I shall hunt for myself, and I will meet you back here in a few hours.~

"Wait....I don't have any extra clothes. Where am I to get some?"

~You might wish to speak to Merrick about that. As you might already know, dragon's don't wear clothes. Good evening, Shirin.~

"Good evening." Shirin's whispered words are cast away by the sounds of wingbeats as Byriarti leaps into the sky to catch himself some dinner. She gives a sigh, dropping the harness in a corner by the ladder that probably leads to what will be her room for Gods know how long. Turning, she steps away, heading back towards Merrick and Obsidian Nova's living space in hopes of getting a few questions answered - primarily the one about the lack of clothing. But when the stall comes into view, she spots the white dragon and her rider speaking to Nova. Instantly, she turns on her heels and leaves, thinking it better to come back later. "Guess I'll be washing my clothes before supper."

Making her way back to Byriarti's stall, Shirin takes the first step of the ladder and slowly makes her way up to her new room. Once more, her breath is stolen from her at the sheer beauty of the place. The bed is massive, the whitish wood carved beautifully to mimic the roaring ancestor of Byriarti. Slowly, she steps towards the headboard, feeling the gentle curving lines of the expert craftsmanship. Almost instantly, she notices that this dragon doesn't have the strange hairs that run along her dragon's back. Instead, his scales aren't as thick and prominent, his body somewhat sleeker than Byriarti's. And yet, where he is beautiful, she can honestly feel that her dragon is even more so.

Her fingers run from the white wood to the thick, silky covers that shimmer with iridescent oranges and golds. The threads, upon taking a closer look, seem to have been sewn to completely match the scales of the dragon, from gold to pink to even hints of purple, every little fiber hand-sewn. "This must have taken years to craft." Lush pillows line along the headboard, and from posts at every corner of the bed are translucent gold and orange fabrics that can be untied to surround the bed and shield that who slumbers within. To the right of the bed is the vanity, the mirror surrounded by more carved wood, this time only to appear as the gemlike scales of her dragon. Before the mirror is a carved bowl large enough to wash clothing if need be. She only needs to get water from the stall below, though how she is to carry it up that ladder, Shirin does not know. Beside the vanity is a shelf filled with all sorts of books, primarily those containing the war strategies of previous dragon tamers. Picking a journal at random, Shirin flips through it, her eyes taking in the maps and trajectories as well as various notes made about how a mock battle would be won before she closes its soft cover and placing it back where she had found it. Her eyes barely glance at the desk, falling instead upon the great opening to the other end of the stalls, her heart sinking.

"Why do we not have privacy here?" Her words slip from her lips as she watches the other riders go to various places, shaking her head. Pulling her hazel gaze from the outside, she continues to look around the room, finally spotting the thick curtains, hand made of the same threads used to make her thick blanket. She gives a small sigh of relief, stepping towards the rope and pulley system and pulling on the rope to close the curtains. Like the stall below her, the walls have holes carved into them to let the light in, so the room is not completely dark. Shirin walks back to the bed, noticing a small stand on the left hand side that is obviously for a sword, smiling to herself. So the one to ride the dragon before Byriarti was also a warrior. It only makes sense...only warriors can even think to be a part of the life of a Solar Dragon. She pulls her sword from the sheath, placing it upon the rest before slowly beginning to undo the straps of her armor. The ring-mail slides from her lithe body easily, falling to the floor heavily as she lets herself feel the weight of stress continue to weigh her down. How is Kaliduras doing? By now, he would have at least one child...and yet she knows not when she will see him again.

She gathers her armor gently, placing it in the chest at the foot of her bed, the circlet being placed in the center of her chest-piece, putting her boots next to the exit of her room. The clothing that had rested beneath the armor feels plastered to her with sweat, tough and somewhat sticky. Feeling she has no choice, she unclothes herself completely, stepping back towards the vanity and putting them in the bowl. It's at this point that she notices the water in a pitcher to the left of the bowl. A hint of a smile appears on the corners of her lips as she pours the water into the bowl before searching for a small bar of soap that rests behind where the pitcher had been a moment ago. She begins sudsing some of the dirtier marks of her sleeveless white tunic before leaving the soap and clothing in the bowl to soak, going next to the drawers to see how much space she has to use. It is here that she notices clean clothing. Modest and easy to wear, though perhaps a little large for her feminine build. Feeling this is better than nothing, Shirin redresses, comfortable to be in something lighter after a hard day. She runs a little of the water through her hair using a comb found in the drawer to the right of the one she had found the clothing, re-braiding it before heading back to the exit and putting her boots back on. Not a moment too soon, she climbs back down the ladder to better explore the garden.

The first place she happens upon is the feast that had been mentioned. Finding a corner of which not occupied by any other tamer, Shirin takes a few moments to eat her fill, keeping her meal simple with warm bread, buttery fats, a sliver of meat, and a large cup of beer. Once full and freshened, she takes her leave without so much as a word, feeling this the perfect moment to simply relax and recuperate. After all, this day has been filled enough with harsh encounters. Continuing down towards the edge of the Garden, she spots an area marked "Bath," and enters with a happy sigh. This is what she truly needs...a hot bath with no more terrible encounters...then, some much needed sleep.

Rainjay · Jun 9, 2014

Sairantha & Aerarya

The flight towards their destination, 'the home of the Old Order' as Merrik described, was not only as lengthy as promised, but also was incredibly tiring. Despite the thrill of being in the hair, with the wind rushing through her air, currents caressing her face softly like they were welcoming back an old friend, Sairantha soon felt drained of energy, her prior euphoria having ebbed away into a peaceful lethargy. She resisted the urge to lean forward against her drake's neck, partly out of an innate fear of falling from the sky; after managing to find her way into this miraculous world of dragons and magic, she simply refused to end it prematurely by falling to her death. So, instead of allowing herself to fall into sleepy trance, she kept her eyes open and watched the skies. It wasn't too difficult to find entertainment. The smooth movement of Aerarya's wings entranced her easily, but the white puffy clouds and the vibrant colors on the horizon drew her attention as well, alighting her imagination. The beauty of the flight put her in a trance of it's own.

Idly, she thought back to the bonding. She had been extremely apprehensive about this entire venture- she was surrounded by strangers, both human and drake, and there was no telling what kind of people she would be working with- but was quickly struck with an awe that wiped out her trepidation. The doors surrounding the coliseum slid open with little warning, releasing a thick steam into the air around them. Saira didn't have a chance to evaluate the events occurring around her before countless beasts, each of a different structure and color, erupted from the hidden dens, soaring into the air above them with a not before seen beauty and grace. She recalled the chill that skittered up her spine at the sight. It was like a dream, actualized before her very eyes.

Her dream lasted briefly before it was soon shattered. Merrik had warned them, but she was caught off guard when the great beasts began their assault. Fire spewed from the air in slew of contrasting hues as the drakes swooped down like hawks, meeting the meager humans at their level. A wave of unbridled fear rushed through her, igniting an adrenaline rush through her system. She saw the bright flames before they reached her, and promptly rolled out of harms way, nearly under the crushing footfall of a drake. She stumbled aside, guiding herself through the torrent of flames and wings and claw. This was not what she was expecting of their... introduction, to the dragons. Instead, Merrik had thrown them into a deathtrap.

"I am not ready for this..." she murmured under her breath, eyes wide in her growing panic. Her movements were hindered by her quivering muscles, causing her to tilt and tumble as she struggled to get past the wall of flames around her. A burst of fiery red and orange caught hold of her sleeve, and she suppressed a frenzied cry, patting it out hastily. He couldn't seriously be permitting the beasts to attack them- surely the drakes could tear them into unrecognizable pieces with ease! Even with training, she doubted a human would be able to fight off a drake, young or otherwise. This 'test' as it seemed was not a test at all- it was pure annihilation!

The silver drake appeared before her quite suddenly, dropping from the sky like an earth bound comet. She landed heavily on the ground, dust from the coliseum floor clouding around her massive paws, her iridescent wings folding back against her sleek body. Sairantha remembered how each chrome scale held a flawless shimmer, yet didn't reflect back the brilliant colors surrounding them, and how the drake's dark, yet gentle, eyes gazed into her own, searching for something Saira wasn't sure was there. A nervous tick raced its way through her system, her breathing quickening, her heart thudding against her chest, threatening to burst free.

Why is it that you show such angst, young one? Surely you are not fearful of my kin and I?

The tender voice of the dragon whispered through her mind like a gentle breeze. She laid down before Saira, lowering her head to be at eye level with the red head. Sairantha felt a twinge of uncertainty. This creature could let loose a spray of deadly flame right into her face if it so wanted to. There was absolutely no way of ensuring her safety here.

I will not harm you. Destruction, is such a waste of life. Why would I have cause to take your life, and risk losing an opportunity?

"An opportunity?" the naive woman asked. "What do you speak of?"

The drake inched forward, her head so close to Saira's own that her warm breath rustled the human's hair. Young one, to what is the price of life? What wrongdoing demands the price of existence? She inquired.

Saira's back stiffened, her mind spinning. Who was she to answer such a question? She was not a god, she had no right to declare what deserved death and what did not. Surely certain crimes could earn a person the sentence of death, but it had always sorrowed her to serve out the sentence. It dehumanized the executor, leaving painfully vivid memories in it's wake.

"Nothing." She answered, her voice wavering as she spoke. She cleared her throat and urged herself to continue speaking. "Killing, and destruction, isn't a means to an end. It resolves nothing. It merely prolongs the solution."

The drake lifted her head, and watched the red head without a word. Sairantha felt dizzy under her scrutiny. Was her answer incorrect? Had she failed this trial? The dragon only continued to gaze at her, and Saira felt her eye twitch, the rest of her body immobilized by anxiety. Suddenly, the silver beast moved forward to rest her head over Saira's own, as if shielding her with her coiling body.

I've always liked humans. You have such a distinct humanity in you, that not many others still retain. They lose themselves in bloodshed and war, no longer loving, or caring. I sense that you are not like them. I am Aerarya.

And then occurred what Saira later learned was called 'bonding'. No words could describe it, but as she reminisced, she could almost relive the joyous moment of connection. It was bittersweet, it was glorious, it was song, and heart, and emotion. Aerarya's cool presence enveloped her mind, letting her into the drake's memories, emotions, thoughts. In return, Sairantha gave to her what she received, each begin, human and drake, allowing the other to see every aspect of themselves. A part of herself Sairantha never knew was missing had been filled in that moment. Even now, as they soared through the skies, the presence of her new companion filled a place in her heart that provided only pure contentment. While the others bonded to their new companions, Aerarya and Sairantha had stayed together, learning about each other through their thoughts, and relishing in their new bond. For now, Saira realized the silver drake was the only being she trusted.

After the bonding, Merrik had instructed them to practice flight, which Aerarya took to easily- after a few bumps and mistakes, she adapted to carrying Sairantha on her back, and flew through the sky effortlessly. She hadn't dared to try any tricks, especially after Merrik's instruction, but began to show her companion an atmosphere dragon's true nature. While being in the air, especially at such high altitudes, was nerve wracking, Sairantha grew slowly to enjoy it. When she raised her hands into the air, just enough to feel the winds currents between her fingers, she nearly felt she could fly herself. While it was entirely the work of her drake, some part of her felt accomplished. No other achievement in her life felt quite the same in comparison. She felt truly free while up in the peaceful, blue sky.

Do all humans relive the past as frequently as you do? I do not mean any offense, but it is simply interesting the way your mind works, as compared to mine. You search for every detail of a moment. I merely live events through. Is it wise to put every segment of your life through such scrutiny?

The thoughts of Aerarya jerked her from her reverie, and she focused herself back on her new friend. "I suppose it is a result of my father's teachings. I do not think all humans do it; just those who enjoy observing. I detest missing the small details of life because they are what truly makes it worth living. Why only enjoy the whole, when I can relish in every part of it?"

The drake seemed to consider this while she flew, adjusting her wings to ride along a warm current of air. She rarely seemed to move her wings, except when ascending or descending, and was as graceful as a practiced dancer. Saira could sense an elation from her when she was in the air, and realized that the air was Aerarya's only true home, the place where she would always most rather be.

I can see your point. Still, it must occupy must of your mind, as it does now. You see more in the clouds than I do, even though clouds are merely dust and vapor.

"I suppose," she said curtly. She didn't have a defined answer to Aerarya's question. Sometimes, her keen eye was helpful, particularly in battle when reflexes were key to survival. She knew that if she were to need to kill one of her new allies, she would be able to at the very least take near perfect aim. Whether the wind around her, and the constant movement of the dragon beneath her, would allow her arrow to properly fly was another question. But she had observed before, in the coliseum, the weaknesses in the people around her. A weak shoulder or loose chink in the armor could be the tipping point on the scale of life or death. However, observing clouds and deciphering shapes of them was probably more childish than anything. If she were to let loose an arrow into a cloud, it would achieve no goal.

You do not much like the other ones around us.

That was a fact. When looking into Saira's mind, the drake had probably stumbled across her aversion to strangers. "I don't trust easily,"

You trust in me.

"But you're also in my mind. I can tell you mean no harm. While Merrik seems a good man, and one with good judgement, I do not entirely believe he could have determined these peoples every motive. Not all men dream of riding a dragon for the good of the earth." Aerarya only hummed in response, lifting her wings to catch another drift of air.

Far below them, Saira could make out a thick forest, and further ahead, an expanse of open space, with several laid out spaces and what appeared to be a massive shelter. She counted ten white dots, perhaps trees or fountains of a sort, and a barren patch of earth. They were too high up in the atmosphere for her to see any further, but she assumed this was the location Merrik spoke of. Her suspicions were confirmed when Nova and Merrik soon began to spiral down towards the earth, Aerarya following in suit alongside the other dragons and their tamers. Saira clutched tightly onto the makeshift saddle, fighting to keep herself steady. Their landing was not quite as graceful as the silver drake would have liked- she immediately began to grumble in Saira's thoughts, feeling embarrassed.

"Aerarya... Relax. It is not a very big deal," Sairantha attempted to sooth her companion, who breathed a soft sigh before settling beside her.

I apologize.

A smile formed itself on Saira's face. "It's quite alright," She told her. She looked about her, a worrying thought in her mind. She had managed to mount the drake, through trial and error, but was unsure of how to dismount. Other riders around her slid off easily, and she attempted to mimic their movements. Her movements were not as fluid, and she landed heavily on the ground, dirt creasing into her garments. A pink flush lit her cheeks. Now it was her turn to be embarrassed.

Merrik began to speak to the tamers and dragons, to which the pair focused their attentions. He described in detail the setting around them, which would become their home, and training grounds. The land around them was protected, and 'sacred' as he put it. She wasn't entirely sure how deeply she believed his words. Magical trees seemed too far fetched from reality. Then again, she had seen the drakes with her own eyes. If they could exist, so could magic imbued into trees. Then he described the rooms in which they would stay; a stall with a loft, so that the tamers and dragons could remain together. He ended with a mention of their rigorous training schedule- she nearly looked forward to it, but she knew better than to expect much more than sore morning and bruises. Soon after he finished speaking, the crowd dispersed, given the evening to themselves. Still quite wary of the strangers around her, Sariantha quickly began to segregate herself from the group, finding herself wandering towards a collection of fruit trees, Aerarya following shortly behind her.

Wanderfool · Jun 11, 2014

Ashes

The Bathhouse wasn't too hard to find, Isolde simply followed the scent of Whitewood and Espellan Blooms until she found herself at a change in the wood. A single step betrayed the continuous pale wood for a darker, smoother plank. There were two sides, a male and female side respectively, each entrance draped in fine crimson and violet silk. Walking to her left, the scent of Espellan Blooms caused her nostrils to flare momentarily. The crisp scent of the Sylvis native flora was familiar, Milah often pinned for the luxurious oils often made from the flower, "The scent is only saved for a proper lady." the sound of her sister's voice echoed emptily in the back of her mind. Isolde smiled at the memory, her sister always thought herself a princess, clearing her throat Isolde cleared her head of nostalgia and faded memories before Plaor'z could chide her for it. Instead of a rude comment about showing weakness, or dwelling in the past, there was only the soft tug of oblivion and dreams on the bond. Isolde smiled knowingly, the flight must have been more taxing then the dragon let on. Running her hand over the silk curtaining, she pushed it aside delving deeper into the flowery steam.

The bath house was absolutely filled with thick curls of steam, the mirrors fogged over and the wood and stone floor slick with residual water. Four baths were set into the floor, bubbling with what seemed to be freshly drawn and heated water. Framing each bath was shining obsidian, and upon closer inspection lined the baths as well. On the far end of the bathhouse, was a long wooden shelf holding an assortment of bins, towels, oils, powders, and cloth robes. Padding over to the shelf, Isolde fingered the dry fluffiness of the towels and giggled softly. Even she couldn't help but feel a girlish excitement over the luxuries that had been so suddenly thrown into her lap. Beside the towels, there were bottles upon bottles of oils labeled respectively to their contents. Spying the scent of Espella Blossom, she noticed that it was half full. Frowning she turned around half expecting someone to scuttlebdemurely out of the room. But she was alone, and thankful indeed for the time of privacy and solitude. Isolde peered around the corner of the shelf and noticed a rack holding dry bins roughly marked "Dirty". Pulling at her armor's straps, she let the metal fall with a heavy clank to the floor. A slow pain spread over her left arm as the left gauntlet was removed. Furrowing her brow she inspected her arm, the sleeved tunic was sticking to her arm. Peeling away the material, she noticed a dried red staining the sleeve. Isolde took a deep breath, easing her top off until finally her arm was able to breath.

Burn marks covered her left arm from her wrist to elbow; the skin was welted, angry, and red. Isolde gingerly prodded the burn with a finger and hardly flinched when her arm retaliated with a sharp but slow pain. "It seems as though I didn't quite bond unscathed." It didn't take to long for the disturbed Plaor'z to respond to his tamer's pain and inquisitive thoughts. - I have marked you as my own, in doing so I tested your strength. Are you suprised? - Isolde let her arm fall to her side as she rolled back her shoulders, the muscles relaxing as the steam seeped into her pores and lungs. "No I am not. What does surprise me is the fact I did not feel it when it happened. I am tolerant to pain, but never on such a massive level." Isolde mounted her full armor on the rack, her reflection distorted on its silver surface. - I am able to swim in fire as hot as the sun, you my puny little tamer, must be able to handle a scorching every once in a while. If you cannot then you will perish, and I would prefer not to test the limits of this new bond we've concocted. - Isolde mentally agreed as she wiped down a section of the mirror to get a better view of the full extent of the damage. Her ivory skin was merely blemished by ash on her right arm, but her left arm was now twisted, red, and distorted. Isolde however felt a certain grim pride for the new battle scar she now fashioned. "The heat never bothered me anyways." She said to the air before turning to the closest bath.

Expecting the heat from the water to be nearly overwhelming, she took a startled breath of exhilaration to find the water, albeit steaming, was only warm to the touch. Sinking into the water, she was enveloped by the sweet water, and couldn't help but smile blissfully. Isolde hadn't felt so clean in a long time, the sweat and grim from the day was something she had grown accustomed to. But feeling the ash rinse away, and the sweetness of the steam settling in was something of a welcome experience. Moaning softly, she leaned back against the obsidian lining as she looked at her afflicted arm. Biting her lip in preparation for the agony that would follow, Isolde let her arm slide into the waters. Closing her eyes tight, she worked through the white hot pain of burned flesh in hot water. Soon enough, the pain subsided. Her soul numb to the onslaught, allowing her to relax once more. Cupping her hands beneath the surface, she held the water above her head as she rinsed the ash from her hair. Covered in soot, her yellow hair appeared grey, now as rivers of ash trailing down her neck the rich color was revealed. As more and more of the ash was rinsed away from her hair, face and skin, she scrubbed at her shoulders scouring her skin raw to wash the day away.

Almost imperceptibly, there is a soft swish of fabric coming from the entrance. Had Isolde been more alert she would have immediately picked up on it, leaping out of the waters to face whatever had come upon her at such a vulnerable time. Instead, the feeling of being in the company of another prickled something in the back of her mind, moving her to freeze mid-rinse to look over her shoulder. In the entrance way stood the familiar stranger with hair that matched her own and eyes like topaz. She was very beautiful, but not in a traditional way. The woman was lithely built, and her face was that of a warrior's but still softened by the finer traits of a woman. Still staring at the newcomer, modesty pulling at the back of her mind, Isolde simply nodded in greeting to the woman. Then she turned and let water run down her well defined back. "Good evening, if there is but one thing I can commend about the Tetras, it is their well-stocked bath house." She said politely to dispel any awkwardness, and to convey that Isolde had too been expecting to be alone with her thoughts. - That wench is Byriarti's tamer, Shirin. Do not trust her! How can you turn your back on such a scorn! - Isolde ignored the sudden mental tantrum Plaor'z threw as she stayed silent. The presence of the woman was not heavy, however it was not so easily dismissed.

Mowkie · Jun 11, 2014

Bath Time Does Not Mean Alone Time

The soft, soothing sounds of slow splashing water and the calming scents of strange but beautiful flowers waft out through the entranceway of the women's Bathouse as Shirin takes the violet curtain that covers most of it and pulls back for the full onslaught of fresh steam. Her eyes fall upon the stone floors colored a beautifully black obsidian, dark fires dancing through the thick stone almost playfully as the water splashes lightly along the sides, allowing for a slight amount of puddles to rest agains the sides. Hazel eyes look out towards the sights of the four pools, a smile appearing on smooth, fair lips as she looks towards the back to see a shelf lined with fine linens of the softest plush - one color for each female tamer - and all sorts of assorted bath needs, including the oils needed to keep one's hair fine and silky and those needed to keep the skin from tearing itself in dryness. On the other side of the oils are robes, either of simple cloth or even silk, and like the towels, there is one of each color of every female rider. It is then that she realizes that the red towel has been pulled.

Shirin should have been more aware of the eyes on her, but the simple bliss she had been feeling along with the painful feeling returning to her left shoulder, she had forgotten to be alert. Hazel eyes become fiery as she looks out to each of the four baths only to realize that within the one on on the other side of that which she is closest to is a slightly bobbing head full of wet white hair. Her body goes rigid a moment as she takes the face of the woman in, her gentle features, her posh exterior, her brilliant blue eyes. It is at this point that Byriarti decides to return, the excitement in his kill turning into a mental growl at the sight of the woman. ~That is the woman chosen by the angry Red. If she is chosen by Plaor'z, do not trust her, for I am sure she has something disgustingly human to do behind your back.~ Her brow furrows at the intrusion, and a mental push is given. ~Go back to eating, for you speak and intrude upon the disgusting human you chose!~ Her anger flares up within only to be soothed both by the sounds and smells of the water as well as the simple huff given by her beast before he retreats to his meal. Her body relaxes once more, even as the pain in her shoulder intensifies a smigen.

"Good evening. If there is but one thing I can commend about the Tetras, it is their well-stocked bath house." The voice of the woman flows gently to her on the steam of the bath water, making Shirin nod and finally break away from her frozen spot before the door. Slowly, she moves towards the shelf with all of the oils and toiletries, taking the orange towel as well as looking through all of the scented oils in hopes of finding the ever-calming Jasmine or Sandal Wood of home. Jasmine rests in shampoo, but the Sandal Wood scent is only to be used for scenting the bath, and judging by the empty jar of Espellan Blooms, she's guessing the bath has already been scented. A small sigh rises from her as she retreats to the mirror and laundry basket, huffing at her silly thinking. She doesn't have to wash her own clothing in her room...she can just bring them here. Finally, she decides to speak aloud as she places her towel and cleaning oils on a dry patch of floor beside her.

"Indeed, but you should see your room. If it is anything like mine, it will take your breath away." Her voice is slightly gravelly as the pain begins to pound across both shoulders and down her left arm. Slowly, she removes her boots, the tanned leather pants, and painstakingly the white tunic that she had found no less than an hour before. Wiping at a mirror that has so obviously been wiped at before, she takes a look at the now heavily bruised scar of her left shoulder, she gives a sigh, murmuring to herself, "Bastard dragon making my hurt my own wound. I would have rather he scorched me!" She prods tenderly at the old battle wound, the slight depression of missing muscle black and gnarled from the strain of the day, whispering, "I am lucky to be able to lift this arm at all." The bruise stretches down her left arm to further distend the tiny tic marks rising on her fair skin as well as down past her shoulder blade. Her once smooth skin is marred in all sorts of areas where her armor had given beneath the heavy blade of another.

"You should never push too hard, sister." The gentle, nudging voice of her brother filters through her memories as she sighs and once more lifts the towel and oils, heading towards the bath right beside the woman who had spoken before. Spotting a small shelf beside the bath, she checks to see whether or not there's water there, too. Upon the inspection, she realizes that there is none and decides to place her towel there, smiling faintly at the feeling of the soft cloth, before placing the oils near the edge and slowly making her way in. Her mind peaks through the bond at her dragon, only getting the unemotional bliss of his feast back as well as his complete and obvious ignoring of her. She gives another sigh before slipping completely beneath the water, feeling tears at the edges of her eyes. "This is heaven...I have never had such a bath before!" She does not realize that the words are spoken, simply allowing herself to slip deeper and deeper into the water until all that is seen is her nose. Her flaxen hair makes waves upon the water even after she rises once more to grasp at the oil she had chosen to wash herself with. Already, the pain has subsided from the healing waters, and she feels much, much better, despite her now growling stomach.

It is this time that she looks over at the woman in the bath beside hers, smiling politely and bowing her head slightly. "I do apologize for my rudeness. I am sure you were expecting to be alone as I was. I shall try to remain quiet for you." She lets herself drift away, falling into her own thoughts so that the woman beside her does not feel so intruded upon. If only the rooms above the dragons' stalls had separate baths. But that would be illogical, no?

Wolfsin · Jun 12, 2014

+Abaidon and Arunos+

"Do you realize just how much you complain human?"

A smirk played at Abaidons features as they all gathered into the beautiful lush of the green garden. It was no place for him in terms of beauty but he was here none the less. he was wearing the leather armor picked out to suit his needs, and listening to the leader of this whole shebang speak. Merrik commanded respect of any who listened to him, his voice was like a God speaking their rites over the watchful shepherds. Abaidon never took much interest in such thing, and this was not all that different. Yes he did find interest in all of it, but by the end of the first few sentences he could already guess at what the end was going to be, and well freedom sounded right as rain to him!

"You honestly should pay very close attention, this one is one Human that I can rightfully respect, and even if he was not then his Partner is one that should be feared, respected and treated as a God over your pathetic race. To have such advice as his booming down over you, you should stand more at attention."

It was very obvious how Arunos felt about the whole situation. This Nova; the Dragon that would lead them all, he was wise, and eve Abaidon could tell that without Aruno's round about way of putting down humans. "Ahh I suppose you are right but these leathers have been chafing since the damn ride here, and trying to be in a good attentive mood after 'flying' if you wanna call it that. With you, is not the easiest feat to accomplish.

"Your respect astounds me Human... "Ahh I bet it does Arunos, old buddy. After all how else did we end up here like this. Aruno's snickered a bit before responding. Please do not tell me you intend to go back to THAT point in your mind, you know how I loathe that scene...

"You bet I do."

The rules were set; hateful as they were, and Abaidon stood in the center of a coliseum with a bunch of others. Each of them easily looked like they could have been a story book character. That was when he noticed a familiar face, a beautiful woman that he had come into contact with before. It was... err So... Solona! A bit of exclamation hit him as he noted the week he had spent frequenting that very tavern to share in a festive amount of insults and scornful remarks with the woman. He liked to call it flirting, but she probably considered it more akin to that nasty horse fly that buzzed in your ear. Honestly though Abaidon didn't much care. His faith in humanity was not that prominent.

After the week he figured that they would probably never see each other again, even after having broken a little ice, and gotten her to laugh a few times. She was a tough nut to crack, but the idea of her being here in the same situation? Well.. surely the gods had humor after all. He had been so transfixed however by the woman and how she simply stared at what was likely to be her grim death; that he hadn't really thought about the fact that the Dragons had all been set loose. There was a very warm moist breeze rolling over his shoulder now... "umm..."

There was a lot of running that followed as a Serpent like; deep blue monstrosity followed in suit, however he was MUCH slower than Abaidon would have expected. The creature seemed to teeter totter back and forth whilst it tried its best to fly. Snarky comments came to mind of course, but he opted instead to just keep moving until he couldn....~smack~ Right into a wall he face planted and fell on his arse as the Dragon caught up and cornered him. "Well this is lame, I am going to die by the only dragon in the bunch that can't fly worth a damn.. how legendary is that?" He had a whimsical humor about his tone as he looked into the Dragons eyes and waited for a grim death that he had once proposed for the woman. She happened to now be sitting atop a Cloudy Dragon...

"damn irony.."

"You seem to have very little faith in yourself, have you submitted to my power already Human?"
"Well I don't really consider it submission, I mean is there much of a choice when you consider the difference between a Dog and an ant?"

"You speak so futile of yourself, are you afraid?"
"If I were afraid I would lash out and attempt to save my life, I choose instead to accept my fate here. its not like you would catch me flying bud."

"You choose to disrespect me? In your death I will have gained new insight into the stupidity of mankind."
"Jeez, get on with it already! If you have to keep talking to a guy about how weak and feeble humans are, and comparing yourself to them; then how do you REALLY feel about the situation?"

"I see plenty of reason to kill you now, but one thing keeps me from doing so, what made you so scornful of your own species?"
"Well if we had time to talk as you chewed on my bones and fiddled your tongue through my eye socket, then I might be a bit more inclined to take time and write you a song about the tragedies of my life. However; we lack that time. So you killing me as quick as possible would be the most merciful thing you can do right now. Or you could bond with me and see for yourself IF you are THAT curious."

"Done. You interest me, and so long as you continue to do so i wont consider killing myself just to wipe you off my slate. Keep that in mind and remain true to yourself."
"A deal it is then. I am Abaidon Cerulius."

"Arunos..."

Arunos groaned as the rest of the group departed, and he was left to deal with those memories of the taming ceremony. Arunos really hated that moment in his life, but Abaidon knew better, that the Dragon treasured it to some extent. They enjoyed each others company and it was very much a love hate relationship, Speaking of which.. "So we have freedom to do whatever the hell we want for now, until tomorrow?" "So long as you remain in the boundary of the garden." "Well then.." Not a second later and Abaidon was dashing off.

Abaidon scanned the area; noting quickly the specific dragons that followed their respective Tamers, and then out of the corner of his eye... "there we go." Arunos knew already, and sighed reluctantly before following the man. he truly hated dealing with Humans, and to deal with the Dragon that loved humans.... Well in Abaidon's favor at least she was a female, which in turn did interest Arunos. "I know what you're thinking, I don't think that you should go quite that intense.."

Abaidon and Arunos made their way over to an apple tree and stopped a bit short, Abaidon was the first to pluck a strange fruit from the tree, as he approached the Lady Saira for the first time since Solona. "Milady... a fruit, from a fruit; unto one so elegant as to partake." Abaidon's voice was coy, perfectly handsome and sweet as he lowered his head and smiled at her. She would recognize him very quickly even with the armor instead of his torn and tattered white frilled shirt; he'd worn before. "A very long time with no letters? no contact? The kids and I were worried sick!" Abaidon commented playfully but his coy methods were soon interrupted as a large gust of wind blew his hair out of place and nearly made them stumble.

At the feet of Aerarya was a tree that had been recently uprooted with the same fruits, and standing over it was Arunos with his head lowered and one of his front legs crossed over his heart...

"you cheeky sly little bastard..."

Remember the difference between Dogs and ants, and then you can think of me vs you.
"Feckin show off."

haybalebarn · Jun 12, 2014

Rita
&
Wither

Rita's eyes flashed open as a loud roar filled his ears; he had been enjoying some quiet flight, but it seemed now it was ruined by the other dragon's reaction to Wither's comment. The sound of wings other than Wither's grew closer and he turned to see the other dragon barreling down on them. With slight alarm he touched Wither's mind, but he discovered that she already had processed the situation as she tilted ever so slightly to glide out of the way of the other dragon. The other dragon stopped short of collision and spat out a petty insult and Rita narrowed his eyes at the other pair as they flew away, making sure to commit them to memory. It seemed to him the other tamer didn't have very much control of their dragon. Speaking of control… Rita closed his eyes, a small smile on his face as he reprimanded his dragon. "Protecting everyone isn't your responsibility, you know. If… Zarketh, was it? Is foolish enough to put her rider in danger, it's her loss." An amused tone was in his voice.

Wither's tone wasn't nearly amused as Rita's was. It's my responsibility if I make it so. Unlike you, I don't enjoy seeing others going down in smoke. Rita simply shrugged in response, and the two waited for the call to head towards their new home. They didn't have to wait long before Merrik and Nova once again engaged in a long winded speech. Typical. After the speech, the group settled into a comfortable flying formation and began the long flight. Rita spent the first little while looking around and observing the various dragons and their riders so that he would know who was matched with whom. From then on, he simply closed his eyes and laid against the olive dragon's back, feeling the action of flight almost as much as Wither did, enjoying every moment and attempting to familiarize himself with every movement his dragon could make. He was almost surprised when they began to touch down, even though he was sore, the flight didn't feel nearly as long as it was. As he and Wither touched down though, he could distinctly feel the weariness that had overtaken her. The landing wasn't quite as smooth as he had imagined. And then, for another speech…

The garden was certainly a beautiful place. He couldn't help but admire it as he and Wither began slowly walking towards the stalls. They took their time, Wither keeping her pace slow so as to let Rita absorb as much as he could, indulging him as he wandered off to look at one thing or another for a few minutes. Wither couldn't help but be amused as she compared Rita to an excited child. He sent her a tweak of annoyance as he picked up on the thought, and she merely let out a mental chuckle. Eventually the pair made it to Wither's stall. Wither took a moment to walk over to her dish and check to see everything was in order before she began to leave. I'm going hunting. Rita merely nodded in reply and walked over to look at Wither's sleeping dish. The metal had small vine designs along the edges, with olive and emerald green stones embedded as the leaves of the vine. It certainly was great craftsmanship. After examining it to his pleasure, Rita climbed up the ladder into his new living space.

Rita let out a whistle as he entered his new room. It was certainly nicer than expected, possibly a more extravagant room than he had ever had the pleasure of owning before. The accents of the room were olive, perfectly fitting for his feral dragon, and not too bad of a color for himself either. Rita walked over to the bed and placed a hand on the sheets, feeling the softness as he ran his hand along the length of the bed before he came to the headboard. The headboard was carved intricately into a design of another olive dragon in a fierce roar. Slowly, Rita took his hand and ran in along the nooks and crannies of the design. He began to walk towards one of the bookshelves before a movement across the stables attracted his eye. It seemed that someone across from him didn't appreciate the open air nature of the rooms and had closed their privacy curtain. Rita couldn't imagine why.

Rita turned his attention back to the bookshelves and took some time to look over the wide array of books. Everything piqued his interest, but nothing particularly drew him in until he spotted a rough and tattered notebook in the corner of one shelf. He crouched down and removed the book from its resting place and hand to wipe off a rather embedded layer of dirt to read what was scrawled onto the cover: Field Journal of Marjeik DuVaeld. Rita's eyebrows furrowed as his interest grew and he opened the cover to read, "The Discovery of a New Dragon". These words seemed to have been written much more recently than the rest of the handwritten text, as if someone was trying to provide some context for the rest of the writings contained within. Rita flicked through a few pages, reading a line here or there, before stood up and threw the book on his bed as well as one of his two warhammers, leaving one of the strapped to his back. He would have plenty of reading to do tonight. As of now, he required some food, and perhaps some company.

Rita's natural needs drew him towards the table on which a feast was laid out. It would be a crime to avoid the feast to eat from a few fruit trees and besides, here there was company. He gave a polite nod as he sat himself down near two women and began to grab some food for himself. The first seemed to be rather young. She couldn't be much older than he was when he left home. She had dark brown hair like he did, or wait, was it black? He couldn't tell. He remembered her as being paired with the small green dragon he had seen earlier. She crouched down in her chair seemingly embarrassed by something. Rita quelled his curiosity, obviously he had missed something, and turned his attention to the other woman he was near. Her most defining feature was her bright red hair; it was rather hard to miss. She appeared to be multitasking, reading a book and sewing something at the same time. If he remembered correct, she was paired with the brown dragon, which was certainly a cut above the rest when it came to sheer size. The dragon itself was curled up behind the woman on the grass. Rita decided that she was as good as any to start up a conversation with, although a bit preoccupied, and did just that. "You've certainly bonded with an impressive dragon, although, forgive my rudeness, but you don't necessarily look the part to immediately match with him." Rita hoped it was a him. He thought Wither mentioned the gender and name on their flight, but he couldn't quite remember… "But I suppose that means you must match with him in a way that I cannot immediately see, no?" He smiles warmly towards her as he introduces himself. "My name is Ritathellion, but I typically go by Rita. Perhaps I could have the pleasure of learning your name? If you're not too busy with your activities, of course."

Erranruin · Jun 12, 2014

Merrik was just about finished making the training schedule when Nova's mind gently informed him of the arrival of company. The sound of weight pressing down on the rungs on a ladder drew his attention to the hatch on the floor in the far corner of his loft. Moments after, a dark head of hair surfaced as Hakeem entered fluidly. Even while carrying two plates of food the Trespan had no difficulty scaling the height of the ladder and making his entrance.

"A pardon for the intrusion, `almrshd`, but it did not seem you would be joining us and men are just as in need of food as their dragons."

A welcoming smile took over his previously stressed out expression. "That is thoughtful of you, my thanks."

"I would also speak with you and understand our position better. I am unused to fighting wars against enemies unknown. May I sit?"

"Of course," rising to accept one of the plates from the man before motioning for him to take a seat on the sofa. "by all means, make yourself comfortable Mr...ah, Eebnabeehi?" Clearing his throat he couldn't help but laugh at his seemingly cultureless vocabulary. "My apologies, it would seem that your name, and likely your language, doesn't agree with my tongue." Pulling up his chair from his desk, Merrik sat opposite his guest and perused the selection on his plate before selecting a fowl's leg.

Hakeem's own clever fingers had begun peeling apart various meats and vegetables into more bitesize morsels, he having become accustomed to eating with his fingers. He watched his Commander, one eyebrow raised slightly, as the man endeavoured valiantly to get his tongue around such foreign syllabals. In the end it was for nought and Merrick was vanquished but Hakeem had had too much fun watching the battle to feel offended and he seemed genuinely apologetic He did only just suppress a chuckle at the spectacal before endeavouring to reassure him. "It is no matter, the name only means nameless, or is to that effect. All illegitimate children bare it in Trespa. 'Hakeem' will do for our purposes." He returned the genial smile, noting a small tendril of annoyance coming from Veshna that she could not suppress no matter how guilty she felt about it. She did really like his name and his language.

"In any case, what did I interrupt?"

Merrik took a moment to clear his mouth, wiping his hands on his slacks before setting the plate down on the table. Standing, he made his way over to his cluttered desk and retrieved a rather thick folder of parchment with a cursive label written on the outside that read "War Plans", making it clear what was contained within.

"While I was just finishing up with the training schedule, I suspect you meant more along the lines of what have I to give you to help establish our mission in all of this. And truthfully, I have little knowledge of modern times, for our foe is older than any could imagine." He looked at the dark skinned man, noting the muscular build revealed by the loosely hanging garments the man wore. Scars adorned the man's body, some worse than others, but none gruesome or unattractive. Many were covered by dark markings that had been pressed into his skin, likely many years ago. They told a story, of this Merrik was sure, but he could not, and would not attempt to understand the hidden words of the man's visual past.

He trusted Hakeem, and he felt an instinctive guilt because of it. He knew nothing of this man's past, of his intentions, of his morales. Not for certain anyways, for one could only be certain until they are shown firsthand. The trust came largely from the bond he had undertaken with Veshna. No drake's soul would pair with the tainted one of a dishonest or ill-intentioned man. And from what Merrik had heard of Hakeem during his time in Trespa, his moral code of conduct was something to be desired. Nova's words rung in his mind from the coliseum. He could offer you many wisdoms…

Something told Merrik he would be a fool to pass up an opportunity to strategize with such a seasoned commander. Opening the thick folder, he turned the collection to such an angle that both could easily make out the writing. "Out of all the thousands of journals, history texts, and tomes contained on this estate, nothinghas offered me the knowledge I've needed to make a clear plan of attack. I feel as if I'm walking blindly towards a deadfall. I know Ogual is not from our time, and I know this is not his first attempt to claim these lands. I know that he was felled once before, though I do not know exactly how. A mixture of sheer numbers and powerful magick I would think, but this time is different. According to all the information I've collected, this plague is new. This plague was not around during the times of my ancestors. And I haven't a clue of what could oppose it."

Merrik sat back, his brow furrowed once again, his mind running through all the information he had ever collected, his guilt deepening as he once again faced the fact that he was not prepared to defeat Ogual, he did not have all the answers, despite what he would have liked to believe.

Below the conversation, Obsidian Nova's mind was alert, and observing the emotions that stained his soulmate's mind. He was not at all happy to see Merrik so stressed out once more, but he was unspeakably glad to see him opening up to someone about it. Out of all the tamers in the New Order, Hakeem seemed the perfect choice for Merrik to confide in on topics of war and leadership.

Hakeem certainly felt Merrick's gaze and was all the more happy for it. He knew he had a trusting and amiable manner but men who would fall for just mannerisms alone were not fit for commanding a sheepherd, let alone a fleet of fiery dragons. Still he was glad Merrick decided to trust him otherwise this whole meeting would have been very awkward and a waste of time. Time was precious in war. He also approved of how quickly Merrick got to the point. He'd spent his life tentatively dancing around subjects with politicians and warlords and various other figureheads when in his own perfect world he would just speak openly to anyone he met.

As the man finally set into the heart of the matter, Hakeem's trained hearing heard a slight crack in tone and a weariness that only dangling on a thread above a pit of despair could conjure. He had heard that tone far too often in the days and months leading to this moment. But still, he smiled a gentle smile as he listened to the worries pour from his Leader. Again, he was struck with the youth of the man. He was only two years younger than his eldest son and already with so much weighing on his shoulders that the weight of the world could be featherweight in comparison.

As Merrick sat back, Hakeem pushed forward, reaching out with his calloused and weather-worn hands to grasp his Commander's forearm. A grip of security and solidarity. He caught the man's gaze, used to looking people in the eye

"New is good, wars are neither won nor lost through history and books. When we rely on the past to tell us our future, we are often lead astray. Learn what you can of our enemy's past, but the creature you read about is not the one you face and the decisions you make must come from what you know of him today."

He tightened his grip insistently, willing Merrick to hear him and trust in his words. "Do not believe you have lost simply because you know not how the battle might be won. No leader ever does."

A low growl rumbled up the supportive beams of the loft as Obsidian Nova conquered with the man's words. The corner of Hakeem's mouth quirked into a brief smile at the sound and Merrik felt a sense of relief at the man's wisdom. To hear a war leader as successful as Hakeem assure him he was going in the right direction was of infinite reassurance.

Hakeem retracted his touch and rose to go and pour himself a glass of the alcohol on the desk, knowing that this conversation was most likely going to be a long one, before returning to his seat. He briefly flicked through a few of the ancient texts before clearing them away with an air of finality and instead keeping the very brief excerpts he could find of current or recent events, a small pile of a few reports from guards just before the fall of various cities. He had won wars on less intelligence and this was not all they had. Hakeem had been in some of these cities and he had fought these blights and no doubt others in their new company had as well. From his experience, this was a good start.

He placed the tips of his fingers down onto the pile, again holding Merrick's gaze. "This is what we need to win a war." He said it in a low growl of determination and eagerness. He'd spent so long fighting against a seemingly endless hoarde of monsters with no knowing where they came from and no knowledge of how to stop them. He'd swam in that lake of despair, that real despair. Comparatively, now he felt alive and ready. He had means, ability and the capability to make plans with some kind of point to them. He had a goal and through that he thrived.

"I'm inclined to agree with you there. It seems that no matter how much digging in the past I've done, I've gained nothing of any use. Today's wars will lead the way to victory. And I have come into knowledge about Ogual himself. I've…. seen him, and witnessed him, though not at all in the way you would think, or in the way others have."

He knew it was not his place to reveal the Oracle's abilities and actions to anyone. The time would come when the curious entity would summon the New Order to meet each and every one of them and tell them what he deemed fit. Until then, Merrik would have to keep certain information to himself. Noticing that the pair had finished their meals, he collected both plates and rinsed them in the basin at the back of his room before laying them on a cloth beside it. He collected the bottle of whisky from his desk, poured himself another glass, and offered more to Hakeem, who took it gladly, before setting the bottle down on the table between them, keeping it close. Tonight was going to be a long night.

Hakeem let this first sentence slide, he felt the reluctance in his speech and knew little enough of mystique and the occult to not wish to push at things he didnt understand until he was told to. But he paid close attention to what his commander said next, a frown slightly darkening his features.

"I have never fought a war Hakeem. I've never been to battle. I've accomplished much in the realm of knowledge and swordsmanship, but I've never released the blood of another to be reclaimed by the earth." Hakeem gave a small snort of dry and humourless amusement at this sentence. That was a very pretty way of saying 'kill people' and the old General knew from personal experience that such romantic speech for such an ugly thing would quickly become repulsive to the Young Commander once he really got a taste of what murder felt like. But Hakeem did not express these thoughts, this was something Master Merrick would have to discover for himself. "I know I will need to work twice as hard as any leader before me to lead this army safely home from a victorious war. But what I lack in experience in the wars of man, I make up for in knowledge and understanding of the world into which we dive."

This Hakeem certainly agreed with. He could adjust his thoughts and tactics to new situations, but for that he needed to actually know what these situations were and in this case all the talk of 'magic' and 'dark powers' and what not had him confused like a fish out of water. Which made what happened next just a little bit disconcerting to the Trespian.

Merrick lifted his hand, calmly, effortlessly, he drew upon the dark matter that constantly surrounded them. He summoned but a wisp, a slender tendril which he manipulated to snake about his fingers. "This is not a war of man, but rather against man. Ogual has powers even I struggle to fathom. He has harnessed dark magicks for thousands of years, and he has mastered the darkness that flows within his veins. While tactness is crucial, I completely agree, we need more than that. We cannot fight a flame with fuel."

He offered his palm to Hakeem, the tendril still weaving about like a water snake above his hand. Hakeem was both entranced and a little bit cautious. He was an old man now and he'd become to settle into his opinion of the world and Magick was a new and foreign intruder into his unchanging mindset. He wasn't frightened, just… uncomfortable. You CAN teach an old dog new tricks, its just they dont like it that much. "Mana now runs in your veins. Tomorrow you'll be introduced to what it is. Magick, is what separates us from all the armies of man. We are the offence of Illos. Our dragons will not lose their purity to the dark lord now that they've bonded. Our tamers cannot fall to a plague that ensnares the open soul."

He closed his hand slowly, the slithering darkness collapsed and disappeared like a puff of smoke, reclaiming its place in the void. Hakeem gave a breath of relief, partly to do with the disappearance of the strange apparition but mostly to do with Merrick's reveal. He had lost men and friends to this taint that covered the land and he had watched it twist men into sickening creatures of plague and repulsion. The thought of a dragon suffering the same fate, of himself. He would rather fall on his sword then and there and had certainly been prepared to do so in the months leading to his and Veshna's bonding. If they were safe from such foul trickery then they could really fight.

"The only thing I can't figure out is how he's able to use magic at all. From my knowledge, the only ones who've ever been able to harness mana, were the elves and the dragons, and through them the tamers. So, what is Ogual? What gives him this power? I have seen his face, and he is no elf,and the Order never made mention of a rogue tamer. As if that were even possible." He took a long, deep drink of the liquor and sat back down, shaking his head. Dead ends down every road it seemed.

Hakeem shrugged, dismissing the idea that this was a great problem. "I know nothing about magicks and sorcery, but if these are its rules and you know them to be strict, and you know he is not an elf, then no matter how unlikely it seems to you we must assume a dragon is involved."

Merrik nodded his head, "One can never truly know if stories and journals from the past hold certain truth. There is always the possibility that facts are missing, it'll likely be up to us to find his source of mana. It has never been recorded that a dragon could be so unsure as to bond with a man of such evil, and trust the order would have recorded such an occurrence. The dragons always worked to protect Illos, even the worst of the drakes would never allow a dark ruler to control their lands."

Hakeem's mouth quirked into a weary half-smile as he leaned back and took a swig of the brandy in his glass. "I have spoken with many 'evil' men. They are persuasive because they do not believe they are wrong. No man sets out to be evil and no man achieves it. There are no evil men, only broken ones, but that is what makes them dangerous. We will never know the extent of the damage from all the broken men in this world. But… I am forced to agree with you. My heart is not good, my soul in no way pure and many actions I have taken in life could be considered evil by many, but even one such as I… instinctually I know Veshna would never be so influenced by my black heart to turn so truly against her nature. It sickens me to even contemplate it. There must be something else to this puzzle."

Merrik took a finishing swig of his whiskey and put the glass down on the table. "It's a puzzle I've been working to solve for almost a decade. I've considered most everything, and while I have theories, it would be unwise of me to speak of such dark concepts without more proof. It would seem this army has more than war in our future, we've much knowledge to accumulate first."

Hakeem grinned and poured them both another glass of brandy each without waiting for Merrick to ask for more. From what he was gathering from his new Commander the man was far too tense and restless for a handsome twenty something bachelor and he needed to learn the importance of forgetting your responsibilities and lightening up. Normally in this situation he would have dragged him to an inn in a lower part of town, gotten him thoroughly drunk and left him in the care of whatever buxom and fair maiden took interest. But obviously that was out of the question, so the getting drunk part would have to do.

Merrik smiled, enjoying his company's obvious ability to hold his liquor and encourage a good time. It wasn't often he got the luxury of escaping to a nearby town or city to let loose, it was a nice change to have another human at the estate, let alone one that he could open up to and while their meeting had commenced under business, he had no doubt it would turn into a makeshift "guy's night out" when the alcohol began to set in.

His conscious kicked in then, his guilt creeping back into his mind. For Hakeem, who'd seen many wars and faced many foes, the next war was nothing to be concerned about, rather dealt with as it came. But for Merrik, who was far from a seasoned commander, he should not have been slacking and drinking when there was studying to do and plans to be made.

Hakeem recognised the blanching expression on Merrick's face and frowned at him in mock disapproval. "Did you say a decade? We have something in common you and I, I was a very driven youth as well. But I grew out of it, praise be to the gods. If you take none of my advice at least take this, you must find ways to distance yourself from your duties. If you do not learn to live outside of war then you will find you lose more of yourself than you would care to give when it is over."

A brief shadow passed over his features as he considered a time when he had given similar advice and it brought back a little twinge of concern to his heart.

"Ah, your pardon, I am a father and you remind me of my eldest son. I'm not sure I can help preaching advice everywhere I go."

Merrik smiled, a fond, nostalgic look on his face. Looking down at the ground as he rubbed the back of his neck he couldn't help but chuckle.

"No, no it's fine. I can understand that. My own father…. he was very much like you, yet he couldn't have been more different. He always wanted the best for me, even if he didn't always know what was best. Your heart is in a good place." Looking up again, he took another deep drink from his glass.

"Since Otamur fell, I've been digging for the source of Ogual's power, but to no avail. And while I'll continue to do what I can to unearth his pool of mana, I've new responsibilities to tend to. I've an army to train! After all this time, all my life, the end goal is finally approaching." The alcohol was beginning to loosen him up, his nerves finally relaxing as his mind broke free of its silence, inexplainably relieved to talk openly about what he'd been facing his entire life.

Rising from his place across from Hakeem, he slid his chair back to his desk and reclaimed it.

"I should finish this training schedule, shouldn't take long. Then perhaps you and Veshna will join me for a trip around the garden. I have to replenish my stores of herbs."

Hakeem was glad he was allowed to just speak his mind, but he was pretty sure the lad did not understand as much as he thought he did as Hakeem's thoughts turned with dread once again to the family he had left behind and the son who was so determined to do his father proud that he was putting himself in danger and pushing himself far too hard. And now the whole world reminded him of that one boy and his reckless need to prove himself and this old man felt like if he could change the mind of all the others then perhaps the one that really mattered would listen in time. Yusuf had already lost one of his sons to this damned war and the aching wrongness of the whole thing still haunted Hakeem to this day. Parents should not have to bury their children.

He nodded quietly, more to himself than to Merrick, and waited patiently for him to finish his work. A walk certainly sounded nice but the mention of herbs reminded him of his brief encounter with the fire-haired woman of such strong character.

"Should we not consult with our Doctor? That is what I assume she is, I have never known anyone but doctors to be so interested in a stranger's well-being and so ferocious in their protection of it."

"Ah, you must be referring to Yennefer, the fiery red-head? Yes, from what I know she's quite the adept healer, and I look forward to bringing her into the world of ancient healing. There are many herbs and plants here that would not flourish outside of these magically infused lands. Many of the seeds planted here are descendants of plants from long before even the time of the Old Order. There's more than hemlock and nightshade in this garden." Sprinkling a bit of sand onto the parchment he had been working on, he nodded in approval of his work and stood up, leaving the ink to set into the thick stationary.

"I have intentions of truly making her our doctor, I know she'll excel in the potion making and healing magicks of old and will be of infinite value to this army. That is, of course, if she agrees. While I have little doubt that she will, it would be rude of me to speak of her future without her being in agreement. Shall we?" Motioning to the exit, he waited for the older man to rise before collecting their glasses and rinsing them in the basin.

Hakeem helped with putting things away briefly and was first down the ladder, hopping from the rungs and landing comparitively lightly to see his little lady curled cautiously in her Elder's bed. She seemed very glad to see they were going, her thresh hold of awkwardness obviously being pushed to its limits. Hakeem nodded gently to her as she rose and stretched before falling into step behind him, her coat shimmering and somehow seeming to begin to glow as Hakeem got closer. Her body curved towards him and moved in tangent with his own movements, making their walk side-by-side very fluid and rhythmic. Hakeem turned to wait for his commander has he neared the entrance to the stall itself and once the man had fallen into step with him he brooched a subject.

"I have wanted to ask, how long will our seclusion last? While I am eager to learn, the passage of time weighs heavy on me and knowing that my two eldest sons… they still fight in the defence of our borders... and then my wild daughter will most likely join them, against my council, and then there is my littlest she… I am not used to laying idle, I only wish to return to the fray as soon possible."

He huffed a gruff and low growl, rubbing the back of his neck as a frown deepened on his features. Veshna cooed at him gently, her emotions mixed as they filtered back to him. She wanted to protect these people he loved so much as well but the thought of fighting made her heartbeat flutter and she was very sure she would be no good at it anyway.

As they exited the majestic abode, Merrik nodded in understanding as the man expressed his paternal concerns. When he spoke of his youngest child, his tone took on a darker, deeper vibe and as much as Merrik was curious, he knew he didn't want to know how that sentence ended, nor was it is his right to intrude on the man's personal life.

Rubbing back of his neck, he sighed. "I can understand your urge to return to your family as soon as you can, but I would have to request that you put it out of your mind for the time being. Until all of you and your dragons learn to control the bond and the mana that now flows within you, it would be too dangerous to allow you to roam freely among civilians. And beyond you potential to accidentally kill both yourself and many around you out of pure emotion, there are ancient orders that still roam these lands. Cults of people dedicated to a belief formed long ago, yet persisting on the faith that the dragons would return. Surely you've heard legends of the Messores Ossium? There are still many who follow in the dark rituals of the old cult. The time to reveal the dragons to the lands is not yet."

Hakeem gave a belligerent sigh but nodded in understanding all the same. He hadn't expected to be able to leave and he had heard of these strange groups in Trespa. He wanted to protect Veshna until she was ready to face the world.

"I cannot promise to put it from my mind, but I will wait until you say we are ready. I shall have to content myself with writing poems and stories for them all! I cannot remember the last time I composed something for Amira, it always used to delight her when she was young… In any case, lead on Commander."

The pair continued off away from the Stalls and deeper into the garden, amiably discussing various subjects from warfare to day to day living and they both found that they got along well, a relief felt by all involved. Veshna remained by Hakeem's side the whole time, very attached to him and unwilling to leave his side for even a moment.

Rainjay · Jun 12, 2014

Saraintha & Aerarya

The small orchard of fruit trees almost offered some solace to Sairantha- it was quiet, solitary, and it held a peaceful aura that soothed her nerves. It was nearly as good as how she had felt whilst flying with Aerarya, but held serenity instead of excitement and joy. The trees around her were beautiful in a simplistic manner, laden with flawless, colorful fruits and spotted with green leaves, standing tall and proud, branches reaching up towards the sky. The tall grasses surrounded the trees, and a few smatterings of wild, red flowers were hidden beneath the long grass stalks. Treading over the grass felt like stepping on fresh and untouched snow, even though she knew past tamers and dragons had likely tread here long before she ever had. She'd like to believe she had found this place, but it unfortunately was only wishful thinking.

Part of her was curious about the interior of the stalls, and the lofts in which the tamers would be residing in. How homey could they be, compared to the home she had lived in her whole life? She couldn't imagine much more than a regular horse stall, or a barn, with a floor dusted in hay and dirt, although she doubted that's the actual condition of the rooms. She would have to wait, though, until most everybody else had crept into their lofts before she dared to enter and explore hers. The idea of having to stop and talk to anybody was already giving her a small chill. It was much more preferred to stay at a distance, and observe her new companions and their drakes. She could examine them at meals, and during training, and perhaps keep a mental note on the more suspicious ones. Her brother would berate her for doing so, if he were here. He was constantly trying to reverse her father's teachings on her. He would say, "Give the new man trust, and only take it back if he has done wrong", although Saira thought it was ridiculous. Mel called himself a warrior, but acted more so along the lines of a dead fool. It was only a matter of time before his trusting nature got himself speared, although she tried not to think about it. Honestly, she expected that her brother should be protecting her, instead of the other way around, but it wouldn't have been the same if it was.

It had only been a matter of days, but she missed her brother already.

"Milady... a fruit, from a fruit; unto one so elegant as to partake." A voice spoke from behind her, catching her off guard. How had she not heard somebody approaching? She turned to face the newcomer, an alarmed expression plastered unknowingly on her face, lips shaped in a small 'O', only to recognize an ever-growing familiar face before her. The same dark hair, sly beady eyes, lips curled in a smile somewhere between a haughty smirk and laughter- only now he was dressed in armor, and his smirk was replaced with a slightly friendlier grin. In the full armor, rather than the tattered clothes he had worn when they met in Solona, he admittedly looked much more charming, although even the sight of his face sent her wheeling into automatic disgust.

Abaidon continued to speak after she noted his presence, a smooth apple in his hand, having been plucked from the tree nearby. "A very long time with no letters? no contact? The kids and I were worried sick!" His voice was light and playful, but his words made her stomach queasy. After that night in Solona, she had hoped that she never had to see this particular male again in her life, and possibly after that, but she had failed to recognize him in the crowd at the coliseum, and again during the flight here, and now here he was, standing in front of her, putting his act on already.

"Do you not have anything better to do than to harass me every where I go?" She retorted, seething silently, although the growing flush to her cheeks gave away her otherwise calm composure. "If you are intending to earn some sort of... approval... from me, you might as well turn away now. You certainly will not be getting any from me." Although her words were cold and she felt a pure irritation at his mere presence in the orchard, she found herself having difficulty in keeping eye contact with him, flushing even further when she tried. She crossed her arms across her chest, wincing slightly at the movement of her wrist- it had been bothering her since the bonding, although she had not a clue as to why- and forcing herself to regain a stern expression.

Sairantha-

A gust of wind blew past Abaidon quite suddenly, causing his hair to blow across his face, followed by a loud creak, and then a heavy thud. Laying on the ground before Aerarya was one of the large apple trees, with another drake standing over it, head lowered and blue scales shimmering slightly in the light. Both Saira and Abaidon seemed to turn towards the drake at the same time, Abaidon speaking before she:

"You cheeky sly little bastard... Feckin show off." He exclaimed. Aerarya seemed taken aback, stepping a few short lengths from the fallen tree with an expression of disdain on her face- or, as much of an expression a drake can maintain. She gently shook her head indignantly, casting a glare towards the new drake.

Arunos, I hardly believe that that was necessary. These trees are far older than us; possibly even Obsidian Nova. It is disrespectful to merely knock them down! Aerarya scolded, huffing in annoyance. Saira simply said nothing, sending a glare of her own towards Abaidon, holding in a sigh as her drake continued to rant on. And in such a beautiful orchard, too. Have you no sense of dignity? Of respect whatsoever?

"Aerarya.." Saira muttered a warning to her drake, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. If she was going to continue acting like this constantly, Saira just might not be able to handle it. A high maintenance dragon would be much worse than a snobby sailor. It would be like caring for a loud mouthed child, only much, much bigger. "Just forget it....."

The tranquility provided by the orchard was now gone, replaced with exasperation and exhaustion once more. She needed an excuse to leave, and quick, before Abaidon began his antics. She had had quite enough at Solona and had no desire to deal with any more. Something held her back from leaving, though, her mind drawing a blank.

Wanderfool · Jun 13, 2014

Hair Talk and Defrosting

Now sitting on the slightly sloping in-bath bench, Isolde leaned deep into the water, her choppy blonde hair a floating halo. Eyes to herself, Isolde allowed her new companion the privacy of modesty. "Indeed, but you should see your room. If it is anything like mine, it will take your breath." Isolde raised an eyebrow and smiled rather shyly, "Oh but I have, the furnishing is rather lavish I agree. So long as I have a place for my bow and armor however, the drapery, Sylvis silk or Galidus satin, doesn't matter." Laughing softly at her own endless practicality, Isolde sunk deeper into the bath until the water danced along her shoulders. Eyes closed, she listened to the water and the soft dripping of condensed water fall from the wood rafters. Each drop hitting oak and obsidian alike, each a soft patter reminding her of gentle rain. Everything about the bath house was completely and utterly relaxing, although without privacy.

Opening a single eye, she looked to the stain glass in which she simply glanced at in passing. With sharper focus, Isolde realized where the colors adorning the room came from. The soft final hours of the spring sun filtering through the stain glass washed crimsons, violets, and blues throughout the room. Wading to the opposite side of the bath, she folded her arms and leaned forward. The glass was absolutely stunning. Images of abstract dragons taking to the the sky flowed into another scene of a volcano spewing fire and ash. Intricate knots of black and white framed the impressive glass art, sighing wistfully Isolde lost herself in the lively wall of glass. Thoughts of past wars and victories spinning tales in her head, - Our own battle has not yet been won - Plaor'z chided in distantly in her mind.

"Bastard dragon making my hurt my own wound. I would have rather he scorched me!" The woman suddenly spoke up, rather agitated by the sound of it. However inclined to glance back Isolde kept her eyes trained to the dragon that suspiciously favored a certain red drake. Smiling a bit sheepishly, Isolde raised her own wounded arm and replied with a hint of amusement. "Perhaps we can arrange a trade?" Flinching a bit as the cooler air drifted over her twisted flesh, she slowly let her arm fall back into the water. Looking at the wound underneath the surface, Isolde frowned. The memory of her first encounter with Plaor'z running through her mind. When the dragon had spewed fire at her, there was no doubt going to be some consequence for just standing there, but at least it was not her bow arm. Then she would be completely useless. The sound of rushing water signaled the woman's entrance into the bath directly beside her. Daring a glance in her direction, Isolde carefully turned her head. "This is heaven...I have never had such a bath before!" Isolde looked on as the woman seemed enraptured by the healing waters, it must have felt wonderful on her bruised muscles. The black and blue spreading over her shoulder and over an old jagged scar. "I do apologize for my rudeness. I am sure you were expecting to be alone as I was. I shall try to remain quiet for you." The solar tamer said politely, dipping her head. Isolde looked back into the bright irises and nodded in return. "It is no bother at all."

Isolde turned back to the water, saying little as to preserve the comfortable silence as well as being unsociable. Milah had always nagged about her inability to keep up conversation with friendly strangers or even family. Hadvar in return defended her by saying she was of gentle voice, and aggressive bow arm. Smiling fondly, Isolde glanced at her towel and then to the woman's towel. Beside it were oils meant for the hair, "I would trouble you for some oils, though it seems like you will be needing quite a bit." She admired the lengthy flaxen mane her opposite sported. It had been two years since she knifed the long blonde hair she once had herself, practicality never made room for vanity or beauty. Now it hung nearly reaching her shoulders in roughly cut layers, almost self-consciously she fingered the frayed edges.

- - -

"Sit still sister, the braid will continue to be crooked if you keep squirming." Milah swatted the back of Isolde's blonde head before running the brush through it a second time. Even her deft fingers could not contain the full thickness of Isolde's unruly hair. "Milah why do you insist on braiding my hair every night. It is more of a hassle then help, and you know it." The month younger girl simply shushed her sister, her fingers twining and twisting the thick blonde ropes into a complex and well crafted braid. Finally, with a twist of leather Milah was finished. "There. Now when you wake in the morning, your hair will be well rested and ready for the day just like you. You're practical, and you know it is easier in the morning to roll out of the bed with well made hair rather than a nest of snags." Isolde just sighed exasperatedly, before she collapsed against the bed she shared with her sister. "I am practical, and I realize braiding before bed is again, just a hassle." Isolde groaned and kicked at her sister playfully, Milah simply rolled her eyes and worked on her own long black hair. Siting up on her elbows, Isolde watched curiously as Milah expertly braided her own hair. With a sheepish smile, Milah flicked her sister's nose. "If you want to learn you can just ask... or beg." Isolde sneezed at her sister and sat up fully, "Fine. I want to learn." Milah however looked unmoved, "Milaaaah Milaaaah... Oh my dear Milah won't you teach me?" Isolde pulled on the girl's nightgown and tickled her until finally she gave in and began to giggle before shoving Isolde away. "Fine, sit with your legs crossed, watch, and mirror me." Isolde obeyed as she gazed on at Milah's fingers. The two girls would sit up all night, Isolde's knuckles red from Milah's harsh but playful raps of disapproval until the sun's rays graced their fields with the first light. Joni and Mica listening on both frustrated and endeared by the two girl's antics. Milah's hair perfectly plaited, Isolde's done haphazardly.
- - -

The memory tugged on her heart, causing the pain of losing the only family she knew to fester further. Glancing at the woman, she realized that having but one friend would not be so bad. Even still, the thought of befriending someone, and losing them to death was a terror the woman could not endure. Clearing her throat, Isolde remembered her manners. "I am Isolde, tamer of Plaor'z." She smiled, bowing her head low in the fashion of a traditional curtsy. "Once more I apologize, this bath lacks a certain appropriateness for a proper introduction." A proper introduction couldn't hurt. Plaor'z sensed his tamer's cloudy thoughts, with worry gnawing at his own he tried his best to send only clear thoughts to Isolde. Who in return fled from continuous thoughts of the past and death, and moved herself to attempt a warmer less wary smile.

Erranruin · Jun 13, 2014

Yennefer had been deep in concentration, her hands moving with an automatic grace as her eyes scanned the words and anatomical diagrams on the pages in front of her. Her mind was just free at that moment, boundlessly surfing through thoughts, concepts and ideas, picturing every described detail of dragon physiology and comparing it to Methuzar's own make-up. The Mountain Dragon in question was very happy to passively float through the waves of her mind, gaining knowledge of her expertise organically and looking at his own body and the bodies of his fellows in a completely different light. Both were quiet and calm and content until Yennefer vaguely heard a voice break into her concentration and her eyes were drawn to a lithe figure of a man standing before her. He had a gentlemanly stature, straight-backed and lean with a graceful figure and defined muscle mass. In fact Yennefer could barely see any fat on him. She hoped he ate properly although she doubted anyone ate the amount or variety they should. His eyes were very striking just for their hazel brown shade that glinted in the light. All in all he was very handsome and his manner seemed friendly, so Yennefer gave him a warm smile in return.

"You've certainly bonded with an impressive dragon, although, forgive my rudeness, but you don't necessarily look the part to immediately match with him." His words were kind and seemed inquisitive and well meaning, Yennefer nodding in agreement and looking over to her huge mound of dragon that contrasted greatly with her short and dumpy figure. He continued his thought, "But I suppose that means you must match with him in a way that I cannot immediately see, no?" Another point which had Yennefer smiling and nodding in definite agreement, her eyes glinting confidently.

"My name is Ritathellion, but I typically go by Rita. Perhaps I could have the pleasure of learning your name? If you're not too busy with your activities, of course." Yennefer tried to give him a small bow while sitting and did admirably well considering, before returning her gaze to his, looking him directly in the eye to reply.

"I am Yennefer, Yennefer MacNeill and of course, I would welcome some company, my work is not particularly important and can be saved for later. This is Methuzar, he also bids you welcome." She gestured back to her Dragon as he raised his giant head and nodded to Rita slowly before returning his skull to his paws. However he did reach out his thoughts to Wither. Your bondmate seems amiable and well-mannered Sister. He murmered the words sleepily but he was interested in speaking with his nest mate, he held a small amount of concern for how his other siblings were faring with their tamers, ever the protective one for them all.

Yennefer continued her greeting. "Might I ask where you hail from, Ritathellion?"

Mowkie · Jun 15, 2014

Introductions

At the comment of the living space, Shirin had turned her head to look back at the woman with bright eyes, a smile playing across her lips as she spots the halo of light hair around a slightly bobbing head. "Indeed, you seem practical. But alas, practicality only gets you so far. Sometimes it feels good to have a place to truly feel comfortable." She had turned to go back to inching her blouse off, a small chuckle in her voice. "Being a mercenary puts you in the harshest of places. Luxury is not a thought. Survival is. But for once, I feel like I matter...even if that is only the fabric talking." Upon muttering to herself and hearing the gentle splashes of the bath water behind her, Shirin once more looked back to see the knarled skin of the woman's forearm, smiling slightly. "Aye, seems your dragon got you well. Mine does not enjoy the callousness of burning his victims...seems too obvious for him."

~Watch your words, human.~ Byriarti's deep bass entered her head with a growl, which she had responded to with a mental eye roll before continuing her entrance into the bath. Her body now beginning to relax, she lets her eyes wander about the room more, focusing primarily on the windows, watching the dimming light shimmer through the glass almost playfully. On the white stone walls across from each window, rainbows dance like dragons' fire, making Shirin smile slightly at the thoughts of the playful, cheery nature of the light. The thoughts of ribbons and sounds of beautiful music enter her mind briefly, making a smile inch at the edges of her lips as she gently rubbed along her right shoulder, further relaxing the tense knots.

The flutes were always the best. Flutes and voilins and drums and bagpipes. Such music and mellodies to be had. She remembers the first time she heard a flute...the first time she twirled a ribbon. The feeling of pure bliss and carefree hope that would drive her feet to dance like a leaf on the wind. Kaliduras always said she was better than a fish in water...her beautiful, carefree spirit would never be broken.

But it was, wasn't it?

A small sigh slips from her as the happy memories fade at the thought of death and destruction, the feeling of agony and despair. She dips deeper into the water, rinsing the oil she had already spread across her body into the gentle waters before moving to her long, flaxen hair. Pulling herself gently to the half seat in the bath, Shirin grasps the lavender-smelling soaps to use in her hair and uses her long fingers to scoop a small amount from the jar and running it along the fine strands. Placing the jar back along the side of the bath, she begins to lather around her ears and along her scalp, careful as to not bear herself to the other woman. It is about this time that the woman once more speaks up, making Shirin look over a moment to catch her playing with the frayed edges of her hair almost self consciously. Once more, a small smile pulls at the edges of her lips as she nods, dipping into the water and wading over with the jar of lavender in her still soapy hand. "I actually need very little. I only require my scalp to be lathered...the rest is easily rinsed with just water. Washing it all is simply a waste. I do warn you, though....lavender is not typically as rich a smell as what is within this bath. I would have chosen Sandal Wood, but it seems it only comes for the bath waters." Placing the jar on the edge of the other woman's bath, Shirin goes back to scrubbing her scalp before dipping beneath the water and rinsing the length of her hair. Sure, the length is not practical...but it is traditional. And perhaps the only thing left of her past.

She can remember when ribbons were a daily thing. Ribbons were as common for her as the sword on her belt...for without ribbons, a girl cannot be a dancer. And a girl cannot have ribbons without long, flowing hair. And since she was small, Shirin has had long, flowing hair...just like her mother. At least that is what her Papa always told her.

"What color would you like today, my daughter?"

"I want something sunny and bright, Papa! So I can be bright, too!"

"You are bright no matter the color you choose, sister."

The men in her life were always so supportive. Bright and cheerful, no matter the work they would do that day. Sure, they were no noble family...but they were a traditional family. And in a traditional family, a girl cannot simply go with short hair. And her hair has always been so light and thin that the length never mattered. Not once did she have trouble with it getting caught or pulled or cut away. Perhaps she was just lucky that way. And every day, her Papa would braid her hair for her before she ran off to dance with the sword.

That was before the sun stopped shining for Shirin. Perhaps the hardest part is the fact that she did go so long with joy and bliss that she never really worried about what might come later. Perhaps it was that bliss that made the downfall so hard on her.

~You are childish to think so, human.~ The grumbling voice of her rather grumpy dragon makes Shirin rise back to the surface of the water and shake the storm of memories away. She gives another sigh, once more pushing the mentality out of her head, and begins to comb through her hair with her fingers wishing she had brought her comb. Pulling the bulk of it over her bruised shoulder and resting herself back on the seat in the corner of her bath, she begins to expertly braid the fine strands together, pulling the length of it to a shorter and more manageable position. It is about this time that the woman once more speaks, pulling Shirin's attention to her just in time to see her bow her head in a low manner.

"I am Isolde, tamer of Plaor'z. Once more I apologize, this bath lacks a certain appropriateness for proper introduction." The warmed smile on her face and the trouble in her eyes makes Shirin smile back rather sheepishly, pausing in her braiding to do her own less graceful bow. "I am Shirin, bondmate of Byriarti...if you can even call it such. Perhaps we shall find a more appropriate moment to see each other, but better that we meet and get it over with than not meet at all, no?" A blush begins to appear across her slightly freckled cheeks. "At any rate, it is a grand pleasure to meet you, Isolde. It seems our dragons at least have something in common. Perhaps we do as well...though I hope for our sakes that commonplace does not involve as much pain." And so begins the mental onslought of the now angry Solar Dragon. So much for being level-headed and cool.

Taking a moment to breathe, Shirin returns to the braiding of her hair, finishing swiftly to leave a thick weave no longer than between her shoulder blades and tossing it behind her without even bothering to tie it. A small smile rises as hazel eyes look to the woman in the bath beside hers before she bows her head again and rises from the pool, grasping the soft plush of the towel and wrapping it around her body. "I do hope your bath goes well. We shall meet again tomorrow, I would hope. I look forward to seeing you on the training grounds." Quickly drying herself, Shirin returns to the clothes she had left on the ground beside the mirror and redresses, leaving the orange towel in the dirty laundry basket before turning and heading towards the exit. At the threshold, she turns to Isolde with a warm, almost bright smile. "It truly is an honor to know you, Lady Isolde. Good evening."

With that, she ducks out and walks swiftly back to her loft, grabbing a small loaf of bread from the table on her way, ignoring the outrage of her dragon. Upon returning to the stall, she is greeted with bright orange sparks and frigid blue eyes that could so easily remind her of Kaliduras were it not for the cold anger laiden within. She gives no words or any sort of satisfaction to her beast, instead leaving him to his thoughts and doing everything she can to shut him out. Within the next few hours, she is asleep in the warm sheets of her bed, belly full, clothing clean and hanging across the edge of her bed, body hydrated and relaxed after a hard day.

And so comes another day.

Soulserenity20 · Jun 15, 2014

Training Day-Monday to Friday

Merrik rose at 5:00 as he usually did, rising to greet the sun as it broke the horizon and its light danced about in the stained glass window pane above his bed. He took a moment to wake up, washing his face with cool water from a basin in his room and dressed in cotton pants with a fitted black shirt before placing his "light" armor on over top. He had always trained in armor to simulate realistic procedures that would be used in battle. Drawing open the drapes that closed off his loft from the open space of the stables, he smiled fondly at Obsidian Nova who was laying in the shallow pool of crystal water in the corner of his stall. A good morning to you Merrik, I'm going for a hunt, I'm craving small game after the burly flesh of that stag. I'll be back before your breakfast is over. You and the others may find me in the meadow warming my wings.

Merrik nodded as the black dragon lifted its bulk from the clear fluid and shook its scale's dry before departing silently. Merrik slipped down the ladder, making his way to the kitchen area at the back of the stable to prepare breakfast for the tamers. He knew his way around a kitchen and soon enough he had assembled a rather large breakfast consisting of pheasants' eggs, boar bacon, homemade bread toasted over a pit of embers in the corner of the kitchen and collected handfuls of fruit from a cool place beneath the countertop, juicing some and cleaning others to be served. He laid out the meal on the large, wooden table that consumed a portion of the room and sat down to eat while the rest of the tamers made their way in to join him, some sooner than others.

6:30am (Warm-ups)

"As you all should know, warming up your body is of the utmost importance for any athlete, and as soldiers, you are athletes, like it or not. Each morning I expect a lap around the meadow, on foot, then a lap in the skies. This is to warm up your bodies and minds. After that, I suggest you all perform stretches to meet the needs of your own bodies. Drakes, be sure you clear out your flare passages, I shouldn't need to remind you. For the first few weeks we'll be focusing on your work with your dragons more than your own personal training as we need you and your drakes to become a team. After I'm content in your abilities to work together we will begin to fine tune your bodies and minds, pin-pointing your strengths and weaknesses, empowering your strong points and strengthening your weak points. Come on now, let's get moving!"With that, Merrik took off running along a cobblestone path that follow the perimeter of the meadow, his stride long and consistent, his breathing even and calm. Obsidian Nova departed from his place in the skies and landed next to him, running along side him like a sleek predator after prey.

7:00 (Balance Practice)

Merrik stood before the group of tamers and dragons, but not in the way that one would expect. He stood on the back of his black drake, feet on either side of a row of spikes that ran down his back, just above the shoulder blades where the dragon's curves evened out to a workable level. He stood tall and proud, arms crossed, while Nova lifted his front legs and pulled back onto his haunches. Merrik hardly moved a muscle for Nova knew how to move to ensure his tamer held perfect balance.

"During flight, during battle, and sometimes in unusual tricky situations, you will need to balance on your dragon's backs as if you're still on solid ground. Your place atop your drake should be no more unusual than your place on this earth, it must be second nature for you to be effective soldiers of the sky. For today, and most of this week, I want you to use the leather straps you received after bonding to secure yourselves to your drakes, providing yourself with enough slack to stand and move. You will remain on or very near the ground this week, but I expect you to work on your balance. Learn to stay firmly on your dragon's back without holding on. Learn to lean with their movements, learnt to sense each other's intentions and move fluidly to ensure you remain planted at all times. Next week, I expect to see you in the skies free of your protective harnesses, so take care to perfect your groundwork." Merrik would not work beside the tamers today; he had long since attained a level of perfect comfort on Nova's back and anything he needed to work on now would look like he was showing off, and Merrik was not fond of drawing jealousy or spite to himself. So instead, he and Nova made their way around the group, giving advice and praise to the tamers as they worked.

8:00am (Flight Training)

The group was called to gather in a large open area of the field just south of the stables. Merrik was pleased with how training had gone up until this point and decided to give the tamers a break from focus and strain. "The next hour would normally be considered flight training during which you would work on aerial maneuvers, however, since this is your first week and you've all shown exceptional progress, I'm going to send you out to roam with your dragons . Do what you wish, do not attempt anything dangerous or reckless. I only ask that you remain in the air at all times. Enjoy your time and spend it how you may. Under no circumstances are you to stray more than a few miles from the garden. Now go, enjoy yourselves, know that you've done well. Work on becoming one with your dragons in flight." He smiled, feeling a strong sense of hope as he looked out over the new Order.

10:00am (Agility)

Our next goal, came the voice of Obsidian Nova into the minds of all before him. Is to fine tune our agility. It is key that you learn to maneuver in flight in even the smallest, most crowded places. We'll begin this training in the woods. For the first few weeks, I want you all to think of it as a game of high speed tag. He looked at the dragons, specifically.

Your dragons are familiar with this and have become quite adept at the process, so hold on tight. You'll need to learn to work with them as they take you through the thickly wooded area I will lead you to. You will be veering about to the sides, taking sharp turns, swooping up and diving down. It won't be easy at first for either of you, as your drake must learn to accommodate for the addition of a tamer on their body, changing their memorized figure, and for the tamers as your balance and wits will be key in staying on your dragon. Be sure to communicate, if your tamer is trying to tell you to slow down, don't be rash and ignore their requests, it could end badly. Work at your own pace, that is the fastest way to excel. Merrik sat atop his black, scaly back and smiled as he felt the excitement of a good game of tag seep into his mind. This was one of his fondest memories; time spent in the woods, dragons weaving in and out of the trees, tagging each other with licks of sparks. The tamers would enjoy this once they got used to the heat and speed of the event.

12:00pm (Lunch)

The tamers gathered in the stables for lunch. There was laughter and excitement flowing through the halls that day. Some of the newcomers helped Merrik prepare a wonderful lunch of soups, sandwiches, and salads made of the produce grown throughout the meadow. The dragons took this opportunity to relax and socialize amongst each other, not needing to eat more than once a day. When the hour waned, the day's training commenced again, spirits were uplifted and stamina replenished from a hearty meal and good company.

1:00pm (Swordsmanship & Defense)

"Before we begin our real blade training, I need to get an idea of where each of you are, skillswise. I'd like for you all to pair up and spar between each other, anyone without a sparring partner will be work with me." Merrik retrieved a pile of weapons from a storehouse behind the stables with blunted edges so that no real harm may be done above bruises. "I'd like you all to select a weapon from this cache, as they've been dulled for sparring. Proceed then to the dirt ring on the southern end of the meadow." The group paired off and made their way to the ring where they would practice their offensive and defensive abilities. As the tamers went to work, Nova noticed the dragons had collected around the ring and were cheering their tamers on, as if watching some advance cock fight. He let out a stern snarl at the yearlings and they reluctantly backed away, giving their tamers the space needed to focus on their sparring.

And do you think this hour exempts you from training? Take to the skies now, all of you. I expect to see you all practicing your attacks and defenses as well, and please young ones, stick to sparks and embers, Merrik should not have to concoct more burn heal on the first week. Now come, let us test your strength. The black dragon took to the skies, his wingspan offering him a fast ascent. He reached an acceptable altitude and turned to face the younger dragons as they gathered above the grounds, dipping and diving in pairs, shooting waves of cackling sparks and embers at each other, dancing in their attacks and evasions.

3:00pm (Magic Training)

"This part of your training will be, by far, the most difficult and potentially the most dangerous for the power upon which you draw is connected to the very life source of your dragons. Magick is an intricate, and precise art. There are more things that can go wrong than right, and it is up to you to take great enough care that you do not end up with a fallen drake at your side and a dead void in your soul. For the first two weeks we're going to be focusing on a simple act; we will be accessing the mana pool given to you by the bond, and we will be summoning a simple flame. I've chosen the fire element to approach first since it is the natural magic of dragons; their instinctual understanding portrayed through your bonds will offer you a simple concept to tackle. And I say simple in no light way, do not ever assume the use of magic will be simple."

Obsidian Nova stepped forward then and continued Merrik's words. Magick, is 80% understanding, 10% desire, and 10% mana. Without understanding how something works, you cannot hold a hope of applying your mana to it in order to manipulate it. Fire, is so much a part of a dragon that our very soul's understand its workings, and as a result of the bond, it will appear to make sense to you as well. Do not assume it is as simple as it will appear in your mind, you must take a moment to observe a flame; how does it move? What give it life? How does it feed? Why does it bite? How does it die? You must consider all aspects of the element or object you wish to manipulate.

Once you have achieved an understanding, you must consider what it is you want it to do. You must understand your desire, clearly, perfectly. What do you want the flame to do? Would you like it to twist this way? If so, why? And how? How would the flame twist to the side? Certainly not of its own accord. You must understand that the flame does everything with a reason, the flame flickers as it blinks in and out of existence in that space, consuming the oxygen in that space, reacting with the very particles of the air. Would you like it to grow? You must think of why it must grow, and what it needs and how it must function to grow.

When you understand your desire for the object or element, you must apply mana to it. The mana will come easily, but you must execute a level of control. Do not allow it to flow freely, for it will quickly empty itself as it desires to be let free. Should you release all the mana in your dragon's soul, your dragon would fall to death where it stands. Luckily, all of the dragons here have been trained in the ways of mana conservation and have perfected the process of maintaining a small store to ensure they survive. Though I'm sure each would give up its last drop should your life depend on it. You will feel the mana flowing like a river, controlled by a muscle that may let more or less flow through into your spell. Focus on this and only take what you need to apply to your spell.

Once you have understood and utilized the flow of mana, direct it with your will and your mind into your spell; urge it aid the flame to grow or to bend. It is this process that will allow you to successfully utilize your magicka.

Merrik stepped forward again, offering a display of magick use. "Through many years of study and great practice, I have gained and fine tuned my ability to harness the unique mana possessed by the nightmare drakes. Each of your dragons has a mana unique to its breed, in a few weeks we will begin to unlock the doors to these unique magics and start focusing on personalizing each of your magical uses. As Obsidian Nova said, you must understand what you manipulate and understand what your desire is."

He lifted his hand, whispering in a language not spoken in the modern days as he often did to focus on his conjuring. A slender, snake-like flame slithered up from the palm of his left hand. In his right, he urged forward a black, apparent void, a tendril of dark matter. "I understand what fire is, what it needs, what its purpose is and, though not fully, I understand dark matter. I understand that it is not a matter at all, but the result of a void in all things, down to the tiniest particle of air. It is the absence of matter, but it is there nonetheless."

He lifted his palms up above his head and muttered a few more words. Then, suddenly, the two snakes shot up, growing longer and longer with each foot they traveled, and began to intertwine and weave into each other. They continued to move and weave and slither about the sky until an intricate pattern formed in the shape of a dragon, embers glowing within a blackness so empty. He whispered again and urged the magickal dragon up into the sky, watching as it soared to the cloud and exploded into a spray of sparks and empty pieces of darkness. His gaze fell back onto the tamers before him. "This ability now lies within each of you. Mana is now as much a part of your soul as it is your dragons. You've all the ability to do this, though you may not now be able to control it to such a degree.. Work diligently to master your understanding of fire, and later, other elements and you'll quickly excel. If you're disciplined and dedicated, you'll all paint the skies with your magicks one day. I myself, was not a fast learner when it came to mana use. It is only after a decade of hard work that I've found myself comfortable in my more complex abilities, so do not stress yourselves if it is not as forward as it may seem. Now, let's begin shall we? And perhaps we'll work on the sparring field so to prevent any unnecessary burns to our beautiful meadow."

4:00 (Study Hours)

The tamers were expected to focus their attention to gaining knowledge then. Merrik sent them to gather books from their lofts and find a suiting place to read them, researching anything they wanted to know, studying biology books on draconix anatomy, reading about past tamers of their dragons' breeds. Seeking knowledge and expanding their minds. Some stayed in their lofts, some brought their literature to the meadow and sought shade under fruit trees as they read by the light of the afternoon sun. Some curled up with their dragons, reading aloud and discussing exciting new concepts. Merrik took this time to focus on his journaling and transcribe his thoughts of each tamer from the day. He was please with the new order and even more so with the young dragons who had, once again, made him proud. Obsidian Nova soared about the skies over the woods as he often did, pondering his own secrets, occasionally passing over the stables to open his mind to Merrik and share whatever thoughts he wished. The meadow was full, of life and of hope; if only Merrikhai could see the place now, after so many hundreds of years, the halls echoed with the sounds of claws on stone and the skies were dappled with the silhouettes of dragons against the spring sun.

Erranruin · Jun 16, 2014

5:00am, Kitchens

When Merrick had come into the Kitchen Yennefer was already there, she had awoken about half an hour before the light. Methuzar was a very heavy sleeper compared to her and she had decided to quietly leave him to rest before the sun came up. The night before she and he had lain awake a little while, testing their bond's flexibility and stretch. Methuzar himself was very methodical and stalwart of mind, he found it difficult to change and shift his connection with her. However Yennefer herself had always maintained great control over her mind and after a half hour's practice she had figured it out to some extent. Therefore she was able to seperate her own experiences from Methuzar enough so that his sleep would not be disturbed by her own wakefulness, which he greatly appreciated. She spent a great amount of time perusing the anatomy book she had, finding it both useful and frustrating. The author had been of a cunning mind but certainly not a doctor, his languages and names sometimes difficult to transcribe into her own understanding of the body. However eventually she went to sleep, her dreams full of tall mountain peaks and windswept cliffs that made her heart beat in thrill. In the morning she had slipped quietly from their stall, tiptoeing past her dragon and into the kitchen where she began finding her way around and making some breakfast, greeting Merrik jovially and respectfully when he arrived.

"Good Morning to you Mentor, I trust you slept well?" She offered him a glass of the fruit she had been juicing, trying to find a balanced breakfast to make and always concious of the exceeding benefits of fruit. Her wild red hair was contained in a ponytail and she wore the redesigned jodhpurs and a moveable yet tight-fitting shirt. All in all she looked the most practical and ready person around, especially for so early in the morning. You wouldnt be able to tell she had only had five hours sleep, she had certainly survived on less. The anatomy book, she had taken to carrying around with her, was open on a clean and out-of-the-way table, a blue ribbon bookmark inbetween the pages.

Merrik was surprised and entertained to find the fiery red head Yennefer in the kitchen when he entered at the early hour. He was used to being the only human in these halls and most the dragons preferred to sleep in. The bright smile of another and the kind offer of freshly juiced fruits warmed his heart as he remembered his childhood: a more social time of his life.

He accepted the drink with a grateful nod and moved to the far corner of the room where a hatch on the floor opened up to a cellar which he used as a cool storage room for the perishables. As he collected various items he spoke "I slept quite well, Thankyou." As he dug about in the cellar he spoke louder to accommodate for the muffling distance, "I speak the truth when I say I didn't expect to find anyone awake at this hour, especially not after the exhausting event of yesterday, though your company is greatly welcomed. How are you at cooking, Yennefer? Would you care to assist me?"

Yennefer dipped her head a little as he took the glass, before sipping her own concoction and watching with interest as he went about the kitchen with obvious practice. He opened the hatch and she gave a little exclamation of understanding. "Ah! Thats where they were." She nodded quickly to his askance of help, jumping down to aid in the retrieval of various ingredients such as baskets of eggs and hashes of bacon before laying them out neatly on the table.

"Yes well, a sick body tends to survive the night, however everything always falls apart some few hours before dawn. Therefore my own sleeping pattern has morphed accordingly, I can never sleep past an hour before dawn. In all honesty I am also very glad to meet you here, usually it is hours before I see anyone. Even Methuzar is nowhere near consciousness!"

She grinned at him in a friendly manner and gleefully rolled up her sleeves before putting her hands firmly on her hips and looking hard at the work surfaces covered with ingredients, as a swordsman would look at a challenging opponent. She answered his second question. "Boiling and mixing remedies has an added skill benefit when it comes to the kitchen. I'll gladly help, its what I was endeavouring to do before but alas I did not find the food in time." She set to work in a slightly strangely methodical manner, measuring things in more scientific amounts and units. Still it certainly worked as a cooking style and she felt most comfortable this way.

"Wonderful, my thanks m'lady." Once they had gathered all the ingredients they set to work on cooking omelets, oatmeals, preparing bacon from the elk meat Merrik received the day before. He watched as she worked, using an unusually precise method, leading him to believe she had taken her trade as a doctor and applied it to cooking. Whatever worked; she was doing a wonderful job and in no time at all, the meals were cooking and the table was set. As he absentmindedly flipped the bacon and scrambled the eggs they carried on small talk about her past. He had know she was a doctor, but he wanted to know if she could be a healer.

"How confident are you in your understanding of the human body? It's anatomy, it's processes, and so on?"

Yennefer had to bite her tongue slightly before saying something that might be construed as awful immodesty. Instead she finished frying her final egg before wiping her hands down with a cloth and answering him. She looked up towards the ceiling briefly, trying to figure out a way to explain it properly so that he might understand the depth of her understanding.

"Without trying to sound overtly prideful..." She rubbed the back of her neck once before holding her hand out in front of her.

"Most men know they have bones and muscle and blood in their hands, they know it will hurt when cut and unconsciously know how to maneuver it into whatever position they wish." She flexed her hand in front of her and pointed quickly to a particularly visible blood vessel on her palm. "I know that this blood is about to return to my heart, I can feel the pulse, I can count the second exactly to when it will arrive at my Pulman- I am sorry I mean my Lung blood vessel." She tapped her chest and closed her eyes. "If I try I can become very in tune with my own inner workings, theory becomes experience in my mind and this ability has in fact lead me to change earlier incorrect assumptions about the body." She opened her eyes and shook her head a little, smiling in a slightly self conscious manner. "There was a time when I forgot how to walk for a while because I was so conscious of exactly what I was doing."

She turned back to her eggs, cracking some more into a pan before pointing to the anatomy book on the table. "I have a few questions about that actually, but firstly why do you ask, if you dont mind saying?" She gave him a curious, wide-eyed look that would have been childish if her eyes werent so obviously knowledgeable and she didnt look so dependable.

Merrik put down the rag he had been using to wipe down the cooking surfaces, "I ask because an army needs many components to become successful. We need rogues, trained to sneak and steal into the most impregnable fortresses, we need warriors, finely tuned soldiers with no fear of a vast army, and we certainly need healers, doctors of both herbs and of magic. But the healing magicks are a dangerous and complex area, even the simplest of spells can land a man with blood as thick as batter and bones woven to muscle and flesh. Few in our time know enough about anatomy to understand how these complex spells must be execute. Those that have the knowledge needed have mostly taken to the monasteries in the great mountain ranges. I see in you, a great level of precaution in all that you do; I see an eagerness to learn and understand things that few would think to notice."

He looked her in her eyes, truly impressed by the small traits he had seen in her; her careful nature, her precise actions, her method of procedure and her helping heart, all of which were important qualities in a magical healer.

Yennefer nodded with a pensive expression, she definately understood Merrik's meaning even though the idea of magic that could be used to heal was very exciting. She wrestled her wild thrill and excitement down before she barraged Merrik with a thousand questions. Finally she finished her eggs and laid them out on the table with the other mass of food and drinks and good things. It made her smile to look at it, all of the Tamers would be getting a well balanced diet if it killed her. She felt a certain sense of protectiveness and familial feel to all of her peers even though she had only known them but a day. Looking back to Merrik she nodded again with a very knowing expression, though blushing slightly from his praise of her character.

"I thank you for your words Mentor... When I was young I tended towards recklessness and because I came from a simple farmer's family I thought myself much cleverer than my tutors. Luckily I grew out of that before I killed anyone but I understand your meaning. If there is such a magic to manipulate the body, one would have to be so very careful for every body is different. I admit the idea exhilarates me and I have been thinking of it ever since you recruited me but... I will definately not approach the skill before you have recommended it to me."

She sighed, going thoughtful again, considering all the possibilities just the barest magical manipulation of a body could give. How many people she could save just by stopping someone bleeding for five second or less. Her eyes glanced over the book open on the counter and she lit up again, picking it up and showing it to Merrik.

"Before I forget, Methuzar can only tell me so much of his own physiology, he calls these 'fire sacks'? Or something similar, but he controls the release of chemicals out though not in. I suspect they are more ducts? But they have muscles surrounding them that contract to release their contents. Where are these chemicals created? Is it a production of his digestion? Or is it a cellular biproduct... Or-!"

Suddenly she realised she had been bombarding again and she smiled apologetically. "Ah, I'll let you speak and pause for breath." She chuckled at herself.

Merrik chuckled at her honesty about her childhood weaknesses and faults, then the chuckle turned into a laugh as she had to cut herself off just to let him speak. "Miss Yennefer, you're a lovely character. I respect your ability to locate your faults and work to change them despite your pride. It is a task few can face and fewer can complete. Now, as for the "fire sacks"; fire sack is a casual term for the organ once called the Calor Custos, or heat keeper.

You're in exactly the right direction by means of fuel production. The dragons' digestive fluids create an unusually high amount of methane and other trace gases, it is believed that primitive methanogens evolved and merged into the cells that would one day become the fire drakes, though little is known about the exact chain of evolution. The pouch containing the pool of methane is controlled by muscles very similar to the stomach and esophagus, though slightly different in terms of direction. In the back of each dragon's throats there is a hard plate which, when struck by an unusual tooth like formation far back on their tongue, will create a spark to ignite his methane supply. It is important for the dragons to clear this passage daily to prevent blockage which could prove to have detrimental effects."

He felt like a text book, although at this point in time he wasn't far from it. He had spent countless hours studying the knowledge bank provided to him by the tamers of old; a priceless collection of facts and methods.

Yennefer blushed slightly harder at Merrik's mirth and compliments, she wasn't used to such treatment or respect from men to be brutally honest. In her field she usually had to be fought to be counted or heard which was probably why her advancements in biology and science were not widely known. It frustrated her to no end. But this man seemed to have no such prejudices which gave her great hope for her future development. A respectful teacher - student relationship often produced the best results. It made her excited to start learning, knowing that this man was a trustworthy Mentor.

As he continued speaking er eyes grew wider and wider, his explanations slowly slotting into her own theories and understandings, filling the gaps in her knowledge until the puzzle was complete. She could cry she was so happy, not only did Merrik seem like a respectful and honourable man, he seemed to have a greatly advanced knowledge of scientific language and chemical reactions, a way of speaking that she was thrillingly familiar with. She sighed in happiness and satisfaction once he had finished his explanation, the feeling of a question answered one of the most satisfying feelings in the world. It did spring forth a thousand more questions and ideas in her mind but she could consider them on her own, now she had the answers she needed.

"Ahh, thank you so much Mentor, it was keeping me awake. I dont think I have received such a clear explanation since my apprenticeship. Though my Master was a very different person to yourself." She chuckled a little to remember him and make the comparison.

"Methuzar was telling me about his spark plate.... that would need maintenance as well, it sounds like a constantly growing protrusion so it would be important to wear it down so that it doesnt become to thick and protrude over airways or make eating difficult... ah but yes, I can read about that. Thank you again-" Suddenly her eyes took on a slightly distant look and a slow warm smile curved up her lips. A trail of slightly cloudy yet affectionate thoughts slithered into her head and she snorted in amusement at his morning head. She did realise she had cut herself off mid sentence.

"Apologies, Methuzar just woke up, he is not a Morning dragon apparently. As I was saying, thank you, I am suddenly very excited to start my training. I look forward greatly to learning more from you Mentor."

She smiled warmly at him and dipped her head in respect before giving a final check over the spread of breakfast, ensuring they hadnt forgotten anything and that they had enough for everyone no matter their taste preferences. She also was muttering quietly to herself about the various nutrient values of all the ingredients and dishes in front of her, Methuzar's slowly awakening thoughts sluggishly catching up with her conversations.

Shadicmaster · Jun 16, 2014

Tamer Stalls Midnight

Dalaith had gotten her food by the time that it seemed that everyone had already left the dining area and ate in solitude, surprised not to have met up with A'untyr by now. She was getting admitably anxious, but she made herself finish eating her small meal first before setting out to look for him. She stayed up till at least midnight looking before finally going back to her stall to find him sound asleep in his dish. She felt anger and frustration bubbling up inside her, but, with a sigh, she dispelled it and walked to the ladder that would take her to the loft, not letting herself give the matter another thought. Closing the thick privacy curtain, she sat on the bed, a small candle being lit on her desk. Her curiosity took the better of her as she picked up the candle and began to read over the other books on the shelf, determining if they would be of any interest, though she still hadn't read completely through her first one. Reading was an excellent way for her to be able to get her mind off of things, so, she pulled out another three books and set them on her bed before she went back to reading the original one, staying up until three in the morning with her reading, not even realizing the time. With a yawn, she set the third book out of the whole lot down, nearly done with it, and blew out the candle to go to bed, sleeping for quite a bit.

Kitchens 5:15

Dalaith woke with a jolt, biting down on her pillow to keep from screaming, or at least, so that she wouldn't be heard when she did.
another nightmare, that's all it is.... calm down.... It'll be alright... she had to keep repeating in her mind, of course, waking A'untyr with the senseless rambling, he disgruntled over the fact that he couldn't sleep any longer.
Mind telling me what it is that's to scary to you that it would wake you and me both? That way I can go back to bed, and you can get to breakfast? He asked irritatedly as he lifted his head slightly. His words only reminded Dalaith that she would likely be late to breakfast as dawn had already seemed to pass. Not bothering to do anything with her hair as she normally would, she pulled on a fresh pair of clothes and slid down the ladder to leave the stall, only to be stopped by a large, golden tail in the way.
"C-Come on, Unityrim..! I have to go..!" She said, nearly hopping from foot to foot as she was in such a rush.
No, not until you tell me what it is that is plaguing your thoughts and you calm yourself down. While you're at it, you should also do your hair, as it is little more than a tangled mess. Don't make me treat you like a toddler.
Dalaith growled at his words and marched back to the ladder to do her hair upstairs, letting a sarcastic 'yes, mother' travel its way down. Still, though, she wouldn't speak of what had woke her, and all the same, A'untyr didn't really want to hear about it. He just wished for some peace, and an unsettled tamer wouldn't allow that to happen. As long as she could calm down on her own, he was perfectly fine with whatever she chose.

Having had the sense to bring a comb with her, she sat in front of the mirror and struggled with her hair, sighing when she was finally done, though her comb looked more like a dead cat with how much hair was stuffed in it. Instead of how she would normally keep her hair down with a simple ribbon tying it back, she decided to tie it up in a bun, using a gold and red ribbon to tie it up, letting it weave in and out of her hair to become part of the bun itself. It matched her clothes for the day as she wore a thin, breathable red shirt that was cut off at the sleeves, and a pair of black pants that were cut off at the middle of her shins, having small gold inlays in various places. As she climbed back down, she presented herself to the dragon who finally gave approval and she left, knowing she must now be ages late to the scheduled breakfast. Dashing down the halls, her shoos making faint clicks against the obsidian floors, Dalaith burst into the cafeteria at the end of the hall, panting slightly, seeing only two people there, Merrik and one of the other tamers, the one that was chosen by the mountain dragon if she remembered correctly. Or maybe it was the solar or forest? She couldn't quite tell anymore with her brain being so fried from a lack of sleep, though a good breakfast would surely remedy that. She had gone for days without sleep to study something before, so she would be fine if she just sustained herself properly. Not wanting to disturb the two who seemed to be in deep conversation, Dalaith snuck over to the table and swiped a plate of eggs, bacon, and two oranges, as well as some strawberries, and grabbed some juice, sitting down at a table a bit away to begin eating.

haybalebarn · Jun 18, 2014

Rita
&
Wither

Evening Before Training Day: Converse

Rita couldn't help but smile as the woman tried a polite bow while balancing everything she already was. She did quite well considering, and it seemed like he would have a good conversation. "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you both." He nodded politely to the dragon before turning his gaze back to Yennefer. The question of his hometown was actually an interesting one. Normally he would lie, but considering the Shirin already knew where he was from, he didn't want to get caught out... "I come from Telavar originally, but I've had a few years of travel through Galidus. And you?"

Wither was deeply embroiled in the hunt, stalking a target when the thought from Melthuzar interrupted her. She had a tick of annoyance, but decided to take the polite route and converse, for once. This target wasn't particularly difficult to hunt anyways... He's... an interesting one, that's for certain. And what of your bondmate?

Yennefer smiled with the recollection of her brief time in Televar, a city state now certainly threatened by the oncoming plague now that Otamaur had fallen so decisively. That thought certainly took the smile from her face. Recalling herself, she replied, "Actually I was born just a few miles south of here, a Village near Espella. I was also a Student of the Espella monastery, however most of my life after that was spent in Galidus and elsewhere as I apprenticed under a travelling surgeon and then later travelled alone as I started my own practice." She was eager that everyone know her for a doctor, medical knowledge was no use if individuals did not know to come to her with their problems.

Methuzar noted the small tendril of annoyance at his interruption to Wither's hunt, however he also respected her enough to feel that she had the wherewithal to tell him to leave her alone if she so wished, and so he continued undeterred as Wither continued the conversation.

She is.. delighting but frail, I am both enthused and fearful of the years to come. But you paused... and interesting is not necessarily positive. They are speaking with each other, should I be concerned?

Espella. Rita committed to memory the name of the nearby city. He'd have to read up on the history of Sylvis sometime, he had never traveled outside of Galidus before and found himself rather ignorant on the general history of anywhere outside of it. He mentally chided himself for never bothering to look up such basic information. And it seemed there was a monastery there... Rita's eyebrows raised as the woman divulged that she was skilled in medicine. "So you're a healer then? I must say, I'm rather impressed, it takes quite some skill to learn how to mend the body. Certainly much more skill than breaking the body, at the very least. It sounds like you've lead a rather interesting life then. And it only gets more interesting from here, no?" Rita glances at the brown dragon for a moment before turning his gaze back to his conversation partner.

Wither was getting close to her prey now, a little bit more time and she'd be ready to strike. It was a simple deer, not much of a challenge, but she relished any opportunity to hunt and test her skills and her awareness. She prided herself somewhat in her perceptiveness, it would be a hit to her self-esteem if she could not take down her target. But first, for her conversation with Methuzar. Sounds like you have someone to protect then, just as you like it. She paused, readying herself into a striking position. Another dragon might be offended by your comment, Brother. Do you really trust me so little as to bond with someone who would be a danger to your bondmate? I can handle his interesting bits myself, you have nothing to worry about. And with that, she pounced on her prey, the rush of the hunt fully in her veins.

The nod Yennefer gave to Rita was both one of pride and one of exasperation. Her hand moved dismissively in the air as she replied. "It certainly takes a lot of time, and thereafter you are learning how to convince others of your skill. Although perhaps that has more to do with me being a woman and less with me being a doctor." She sighed in a huffy manner but her tone was genial and laughable.

Another dragon might be offended by your comment, Brother. Do you really trust me so little as to bond with someone who would be a danger to your bondmate? I can handle his interesting bits myself, you have nothing to worry about.

The smell of blood that flickered across his vague connection with Wither was a tempting one, but Methuzar tried to keep his mind to hand. My apologies Sister, I did not mean to infer such things, more question his influence. I certainly trust you and your judgement. Eat well. And with that he drew back from her mind, letting her eat in peace and resting his eyes back onto his little Tamer.

Their conversation carried on for a while, but touched on nothing of any importance, and soon enough, the pair had gone their separate ways for the evening.

Morning of Training Day: Up and About

Come on; time to get up, sleepyhead.

Rita groaned as he began the slow process of waking up. He was used to early mornings from various early starting weapon training activities, but that didn't mean he enjoyed them. Slowly his eyes blinked open and tried to focus. His efforts were rewarded with a shower of dust in his eyes, and he growled as he pulled the dusty old journal off of his face and sat up, rubbing the dirt out of his eyes. How had that happened… Rita blinked more than a few times in an attempt to get his tears to perform their function. He had sat down to read last night, but apparently he hadn't gotten too far, judging by the fact that he was on only the second page of the journal. Well, that was a shame, but at the very least he had more sleep than intended. This would be a very well rested day.

With that, he rose from his bed and prepared for the day. Today would be training, so he should wear rather light things… He hadn't packed much, but he had enough to work with. Rather soon, he had together a comfortable outfit, and short sleeved shirt tied down the front with strings, with the top loose enough to allow for comfortable airflow after he began sweating, which he was sure he would. He wore a relatively simple pair of pants with his warhammers holstered comfortably to the side. He supposed he had grown rather attached to them over the years, but he might as well allow himself to form attachment to objects, if not people. It was pretty hard for an object to die on him. With that, he drew the privacy curtain, opening his room to the rest of the stable, and climbed down the ladder. Wither was curled up in her bed, but she opened one yellow eye as Rita walked out of the stable and towards the kitchen.

When he arrived in the kitchen, it seemed there weren't many people there; he was the fourth one in the room. He walked in just in time to hear Merrik explaining something overly complex, it sounded like it had something to do with dragon flames? It was a bit above his head, and so he stood in the doorway and watched as Yennefer made her somewhat flustered reply. Deciding that the food was too tempting to entertain the idea of observing the conversation further, Rita walked in and grabbed an apple, throwing it in the air and catching it. "Well, glad to see you two are getting along. I, on the otherhand, caught maybe half of that." He leaned over some of the food Yennefer was still preparing and leaned in, looking at it. "Looks like you two together are quite the culinary force. I'm somewhat worried you might get carried away though, there's quite a bit of food here already!" With that, he began to assemble his own breakfast.

Mowkie · Jun 18, 2014

A Day to Train

As the morning sun graces the Forest Garden with the warmth of its rays, Shirin stirs beneath the thick, silky covers of her new bed. Hazel eyes open to look around as a slow mind tries to process where she is and what, exactly, had happened the day before. This place is too comfortable to be any of the inns she had seen in her life. She slept too well to be going straight into another battle. Her body does not ache. Her soul does not burn. She is comfortable, well-rested, and content. But why?

~The sun is upon us early this day. Best not to waste it.~

Ah, yes, now she remembers. That bastard dragon chose her to be his bondmate.

~I heard that, human.~

With a sigh, she pulls herself from the soft covers, eyes searching the simple room to see early rays enter through the multiple windows that cover the top portion of her loft, making pictures of flying dragons in shadow upon every surface of the room. Her body is almost completely devoid of aches, and though the permanent black bruise still reaches like fire across her left shoulder, there is no longer any swelling as before. Stretching, Shirin rises to her feet and dresses back into the clothing she had arrived in, glad to see that it had dried well overnight. With the mental prodding of her dragon, she quickens her pace to get ready and tosses her armor on overtop, belting and buckling with ease and expertise before putting on her boots, sheathing her sword, and sliding down the wooden ladder, glad that her hands are gloved. She is greeted with an impatient huff as Byriarti nudges his good morning into her chest.

~I am not one for cuddling, but I like to see my rider in the light of the morning sun. For a human, you are pleasant to look upon. Now, I suggest you go find the kitchen. Merrick should be preparing a meal for everyone around this time. I shall go catch myself some breakfast, but be warned. I may take a little longer, as I am craving something delightfully soft. I will try to be back before Warm-Ups. Good morning, Shirin.~

Shirin stumbles back at the nudge of her dragon's nose, smiling slightly at his excuse for the greeting and nodding her head. "Well, at least I can say the same about you. Enjoy your breakfast, Byriarti. And good morning." Without further adew, the Solar Dragon trots outside and leaps into the morning skies to fill his surprisingly large appetite. Shirin watches him take off, basking in the sheer beauty of him until he disappears. Then, with a sigh to herself, she makes her way to the kitchen, which she remembers spotting on the other side of the bath house, for a quick and quiet meal. Talking while eating had never really been Shirin's kind of thing, so with a swift greeting and thanks to her mentor, she places herself at the farthest end of the table away from the other tamers and eats her fill. Then, as quickly as she entered, she leaves to ready herself for the next part of the day.

6:30 AM

As promised, Byriarti meets Shirin just before Warm-Ups, once more nudging her in the chest in greeting, his eyes warm, his belly full. They listen to the long speech about how important it is to do the laps around the meadow, not only for sound bodies and minds, but also for a sound team between dragon and tamer. The moment Merrick takes off running the path, Shirin also does so, keeping an easy pace just behind and to the right of him. Surprisingly, Byriarti is just to the right of her, trotting as lightly as possible, which for his bulk isn't very light. The ground shakes with every one of his steps, but this only makes it more challenging for Shirin, and she takes it with a smile at the beast. The lap passes by surprisingly quick for her, even as she looks back and helps anyone who might have fallen behind, to the dismay of her dragon, who also slows down to keep with her. Before she knows it, both she and Byriarti are in the skies, making an easy lap around the top, for this time there are no straps, and Shirin knows not to sit upon the fine hairs of the dragon's back. They land a little more gracefully than the day before, managing to keep their legs from falling beneath them, with five minutes to spare in stretching, which both do almost religiously.

7 AM

At the explanation of the first exercise of the day, both dragon and rider cringe, knowing that after this point, they will be sore and desire only the comfort of their beds or a warm bath. Begrudgingly, Byriarti takes off to grab the harness from beside the ladder in his stall and brings it back to Shirin, a pained look in his eye. The anticipation is nearly unbearable, but with deep breaths from both bondmates, Shirin dresses Byriarti in the harness as loosely as possible, feeling the unfamiliar, seering pain run along her spine. Her vision is bombarded with little red dots as her body betrays her, and her face takes the expressions that are left behind by her dragon, who growls slightly at her side. "That was worse than yesterday."

~Some days are better than others. Let us get this over with. Start on the ground, and we will do basic movements. I will do what I can to keep you from falling, but I ask that you remain steady, for a fall will surely burn us both.~

With a somber expression, Shirin nods, clipping herself to the harness, and uses the offered leg of her dragon to propel herself onto his back, keeping her feet from missing the very center of his spine. His back is sloping, his scales slick with no traction. All muscles tight, she bends her knees slightly, gathering her center of gravity and keeping herself from slipping from him. He rises slowly, a worried eye kept on her at all times. By now, the sun has risen high enough to begin breaking through the trees, and both of them can feel the warmth of the rays. They soak it in as best as they can, using the healing light to keep them calm and steady. The half hour of training consists only of a light walk, but Shirin doesn't fall, and with every passing moment, she feels more and more comfortable standing upon her dragon's back. It is ended with the removal of the harness and a collective sigh from both aching Shirin and Byriarti.

8 AM

Upon hearing the release for roaming, the bondmates look at each other with wary smiles. Flight is what seems to bring them together...it is something they can share...for either they share in the sensation of working together or they share in the pain. So, without much prodding, Shirin once more propels herself onto Byriarti's back, careful not to let herself completely sit down upon the dragon's back. Between her knees, she can feel his heart beating, his chest slowly growing and shrinking with each smooth breath, his muscles tightening and relaxing. She takes a moment to match her heart rate with his, taking deeper breaths and relaxing all of her muscles while her legs hold her slightly aloft upon his back.

Then comes the second take off ever experienced. Without the harness, flight is easier. It feels more natural, more right, despite the extreme workout. With every maneuver of Byriarti's, Shirin leans and dips to match, all the while keeping herself just slightly off his back, feeling the tickling sensation rush over her back as the fine hairs brush against her legs and the base of her spine. They soar high over the garden, basking in the sunlight and the radiance of the scenery. They practice hard banks both left and right, learning the minds of each other silently, letting nature take its hold on them so that their bond grows stronger of both body and mind.

After an hour and a half, they land gracefully and stretch before Shirin goes to take a look at the next thing on the schedule, cringing at the thought. ~Don't worry, my little human.~ Byriarti assures her at the thought. ~You shall not fall, and if you do at least one of us can get a good laugh out of it.~ This, of course, granted him a glare from Shirin as she goes back to stretching before making her way to the next area and reseating herself upon the back of the Solar Dragon.

10 AM

For a large and rather bulky dragon, Byriarti can move. Cold, calculating instinct kicks in, launching the beast into the skies at a frightening speed the moment he is given the go by Obsidian Nova, sending playful sparks at Wither and Methuzar and even a few at quick little Veshna. Shirin, glad that her armor is thick enough to keep a lot of the heat off her, simply rides with all concentration possible, her body working on overdrive to keep on the beast's back. Every dive exhilarates her, every hard turn lurching her nearly off. But with every challenge comes achievement, and Shirin shall not fall off!

12 PM

Sure enough, she never fell from her dragon, and with good achievement comes a very hungry belly. Once more, she seats herself at the table as far away from others as possible and eats silently and quickly before standing from the table and exiting to meet Byriarti who suns himself on a small rise beside the lake. With a half hour before the next training session, she takes the time to just talk to her dragon, who seems rather keen on getting to know her through her words and not her memories, particularly wishing to discuss the issues she had with the human boy chosen by Wither. Begrudgingly, she obliges. Slowly, he learns why emotion is so wrought within his tamer, growing to understand her...sure, this may not make her any less disgusting, but at least she is understood now. It will take much more time and patience to truly win his favor.

1 PM

And so comes the greatest part of the day as well as the worst. With Byriarti standing just beside Shirin and Rita not far from her, she is somehow shoved towards the man as Merrick says to choose partners for training with blunted swords. By the time Byriarti manages to get her close to Rita, all other partners are taken, and she has no choice. So, she stands there awkwardly even as Byriarti takes to the skies to train in his own way.

She really doesn't like her dragon.

Rainjay · Jun 19, 2014

Abaidon & Sairantha

Abaidon shot a glare over at Arunos as he realized how quickly his partner's little stunt had placed them in the dog house. Arunos did not appear consumed however. he continued to hold his head high and soon a rumbling voice emerged as he directed his brilliant golden eyes gaze upon Aerarya. "On the contrary I am not without dignity, nor respect." It looked like their definitely should have been a follow up to the sentence; and by the way Saira and Aerarya looked at each other, they must have thought so too. Abaidon had his own issue at the time however. Apparently the antics and jokes of a sailor didn't amuse the red head lass.

"Well if I didn't greet you in a way you'd know me by, then how would you know its me?"Abaidon smirked and offered her a smile, though she definitely did not seem to take the offer. "Oh come on. I was only playin' around Saira. Things have been so serious recently. Bonding with our Dragons, listening to Merrik talk, flying here. I only wanted to lighten the moon a little; its actually extremely nice to at least see a familiar face here."

Abaidon surveyed her features again and when he smiled this time it was much more genuine; thankful even."I see no point in us being enemies, and look our partners seem to enjoy each others company right?"

He was dead wrong.

Arunos still stood with his head held high as he watched Aerarya and from time to time flicked his tongue. he probably appeared like some strange statue, more than a Dragon, but he also seemed to be thinking of something. Abaidon having access to those thoughts couldn't help but respond within his own mind... "Do you realize how corny that is?" The Dragon did not seem to be affected by his tamers doubts.

"Aerarya, You judge me harshly by saying I lack respect. It was respect that brought me here, and it was respect that guided me to bring you this gift. I care not for trees that could be symbolic to the past, I care for what I can see, for what I can smell and so I show respect to you. Will you accept my gift?"

Abaidon nearly had to stop himself from bursting out in that moment. He looked to Arunos, and found that he could not even keep eye contact. "Well look at that. Arunos can woo a lady even better than I can." he smirked at the thought but kept his eyes on Saira. "So, how bout it? We are already allies without the help of choice. So maybe we can choose to be friends?"

Sairantha was taken aback at Abaidon's use of a nickname for her; Saira. Not many people had the claim to use the name with her. As a youth her father had created the nickname, and it had been quickly taken up by Mel and her uncle, but perhaps the only person outside of her family that was permitted the use of the name was Raya... and since her untimely death and her father's disappearance, the use of the nickname had nearly diminished. Hearing the familiar word from this stranger was shocking, and almost as unwelcome as his foolery. Her eyes narrowed further into a sullen scowl, although he replied with a warm smile, and continued to speak to her.

"Abaidon, I believe you have misunderstood the meaning of 'allies'. A mere prior relation to the event that brought us here means little in comparison to friendship, or an alliance. Perhaps it would be better if your attempts at lightening the mood did not include trying to charm me." She spoke, her voice having transformed from lighthearted and cheerful to a low growl, not much unlike a cat emitting a 'back off!' warning. She tightened her arms around her chest, closing her eyes slightly against the next current of wind. "I find that I cannot choose to be friends with a coquettish dunce."

Sairantha... Do you not believe your words are harsh, or out of turn? What leads you to understand this human as being whom you believe he is? Certainly I agree that he is vexatious and cumbersome to communicate with, but what if he only means well? Aerarya's voice spoke only in her mind, offering a sliver of advice before turning her attention outwards towards Arunos. Although indeed slightly wooed by the drakes offering and his charismatic words, distaste rose like bile in the back of her throat.

Your gift is invalid if it requires the contempt towards this orchard and our new home. While the thought is quite charming, the reality is disagreeable. And with that, the drake turned her head away, scrutinizing the new tamer. She wasn't quite sure if he felt distraught or neutral towards Sairantha's heavy words, but Saira seemed to think so, her features falling. She quickly sought out something to say to lessen the blow of her rejection. She couldn't help but feel aggravated with this stranger, but perhaps it entirely was not his fault. There of course were men whose mouth released a different message than their actions, their brains not allowing proper thought before speaking, and it wasn't entirely to the his fault rather than impulse. Besides, he was only attempting to lighten the mood, and hadn't intended to kill it.

"I apologize.." Her arms dropped to her sides as she looked at the tamer contritely. "I had not mean for my words to come out as gratingly as they did. Perhaps an alliance is not... unforeseeable.. although I cannot pledge to admit to one quite yet." Maybe the sailor could clean up his act; maybe then she wouldn't mind calling herself a friend to him.

Arunos lowered his head, in fact both of them almost looked like kicked puppies after their respective conversations went wry. Arunos merely nodded to Aerarya and said his last word on the matter.

"So be it. I only thought to bring flowers in my own way for a beautiful young drake." With that he turned and walked away from the scene.

"Hey bud. She likes you. She just doesn't know it yet alright, don't worry about it."

"To think you as a human could understand the mind of a dragon you are not bonded with... you really are something else."

"So I've been told."

Abaidon was next in line to deal with his person rejection, but before he could say a word the mood changed again. "Oh?" He started to say half way through her proclamation but thought better to keep his mouth shut until she finished speaking. "Well honestly I think that is probably the fairest way you can handle a situation like this. Alright good, I will look forward to the day I can call you an ally; for now I suppose we are acquaintances?" He didn't let her respond. "I will leave you with that milady I have to catch up with Arunos.. his tummy rumbling is making me hungry as well...." Abaidon groaned and ran after the Drake.

"Hey Arunos.. wait for me!"

Sairantha & Aerarya

Abaidon left quickly, without another word and without letting Saira get a final word in otherwise. She was left with a sinking feeling in her gut, as if she had gulped down a pile of rocks, and swallowed before turning to her drake, whose head was slightly bowed as she watched the pair leave with her dark eyes. The drake, in her two years with the other dragon, had never before considered the possibility of the other harboring feelings for her; she had always seen the drakes she had been raised with as family more than anything else, but they technically were not... Her tail swayed against the ground in the grass as she considered this thought deeply, only stirred from her stupor when Saira spoke to her.

"He is ridiculous. They both are." She ran her fingers through her red hair, pushing it back from her face and over her shoulder with a heavy sigh. "And I also fear I will be meeting with him quite often. Although perhaps it isn't something to fear. I've nobody else to communicate with here." She hardly envisioned herself speaking to others often. So many of them radiated a powerful aura around them, one that screamed 'dangerous' and 'caution'. She felt out of place here among such warriors and skilled peoples while she was young and inexperienced. While at the coliseum she had spotted a few more youthful to-be tamers, they still came off as being more practiced than she, and she simply lacked the social skills- or desire- to chat with these people that were so far above her level.

You can talk with me, always, Saira. You know that. The drake assured her, leaning down to affectionately nudge the woman's head with the very tip of her nose.

Saira laughed softly. "I know that. You're in here," she tapped her head lightly, "and here, too." She pressed her hand over her heart with a small smile. "I did not think I would come here and bond so strongly with a drake; I had only thought of it as a mutual companionship, instead of as such a close relationship. But I'm glad it turned out this way. I'm very fortunate."

Am I fortunate to have the honor of using your nickname when addressing you? You were alarmed when the human called you Saira... but you have never minded my use of the name.

Sairantha frowned- she hadn't realized the drake's use of the word. It had passed right through her mind, as if it were Mel she was speaking to. "No, I suppose I don't mind." She answered truthfully. If anything, she welcomed it. It was a piece of home in this strange place. The drake seemed to nod in response before stepping lightly over the fallen tree before her delicately, and then turned towards her tamer expectantly. Night was falling rapidly now, and Sairantha had forgotten entirely about the meal Merrik had mentioned when they landed earlier. A slight pang in her stomach reminded her that she also hadn't eaten since hours before, at dawn, and her meal had been meager and hurried, nerves having taken the better of her and caused her stomach to grow queasy. Now she deigned to return to the hub of the meadow to appease her stomach pains. She began to make her way through the tall grasses, avoiding the felled tree as well, and retraced her steps towards their landing place. Perhaps there she could regain her bearings, and find her way to where this feast would be located.

Saira... I think I shall go rest in our stall. I presume you can find it on your own when you are finished? Aerarya questioned her, pausing in her footsteps.

"Yes- I'll find it alright. I suppose they'll be marked out for us. They wouldn't want disputes over living quarters," Saira said. "I won't be too long. I will just quickly take something to eat and clean up, and then I'll be back." The drake affirmed that she understood before trotting off towards the living quarters, leaving Sairantha alone to her meal. She didn't dawdle, even though when she arrived, there was only a person or two remaining at the table. Nobody so much as glanced her way, or spoke to her, and she didn't mind. She ate, cleaned up after herself, and hurried along to the halls. Stepping inside, she found it stunning in appearance, with contrasting walls and floors, with the door to each stall decorated in intricate carvings to which she knew no meaning. They appeared to depict battle or combat, but she knew not of what, although she could appreciate their beauty and antiquity. Each door also had a golden plaque next to it, with a name inscribed onto it- as she slowly walked down the hall, she gazed at each plaque, searching the ornate lettering for her name. She found it shortly and stepped into the massive stall, absorbing the room around her. It was open, yet private enough, and grand in size. Towards the back was a ladder, leading presumably to where she should sleep, and in the back corner of the stall was what appeared to be a bed for dragons- where Aerarya would sleep.

She climbed up the latter to the loft above the room. The stained glass windows across the back wall caught her eye first- diluted, colored light filtered into the room from what remained of the suns rays outside, the furniture casting shadows across the rug on the floor. There were filled bookshelves and a proper desk, a small seating area, and a chest to store items in, and in the corner of the loft was a bed. She made her way over to it, running her fingers against the fine bedding. It looked positively luxurious. Her old bed had had coarse, patched sheets and a pillow so rough it was hardly worth using, but the blankets and cushions on this bed were as soft as a downy feather, and the bed itself was massive. Four, maybe five Sairantha's could fit across it's width, with a sixth laying across the extra space on the end. She tore her gaze from the bed and glanced towards the bookshelves. As enticing as the old books were, and how heavily she desired to read them and investigate them, her eyelids were threatening to fall shut of their own accord, her limbs heavy and slow. She deigned to sit down on the bed, and then decided to let her head rest against the pillows for just a moment, and closed her eyes to provide them momentary rest. However, she found herself drifting off within seconds, falling heavily asleep.

Morning

Sairantha awoke to the early light of the sun, finding herself sprawled out atop the bed, hair messily tossed about around her crown. She sat up with a slow yawn, stretching out her limbs and teasing at her stiffened muscles. For a moment, she wasn't quite sure where she was, but the memories rushed back to her like a tidal wave, flooding her mind. She was at the meadow, in the loft that she would be able to call hers while they trained with their drakes. Gingerly sliding onto her feet, she paced along the floor towards the edge of the loft, looking down at the sleeping form of Aerarya, whose soft breathes could be heard from above. A small smile tugged at her lips. The mere sight of her new companion brought her a feeling of joy.

Stretching again, Saira fully noticed the disaster her of her hair, and the wrinkled, dusty clothing she wore. The sharp smell of sweat clung onto her body, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Growing up, Sairantha had had the privilege of frequent baths. Going so long without one struck a chord in her mind, and she soon found herself irritated. She had spotted a bathhouse upon arrival. Perhaps she would have ample time for a quick bath before the tamers would meet in the morning. She stripped off what armor she had and draped it across the storage chest. She was not fully acquainted with full metal armor; it was much easier to move and travel with leather armor, and it suited her preference of the bow over the sword. An archer didn't have as much of a need for such resilient protection. Ideally, they would never come close to being in the thick of combat, and dense pieces of metal would hinder their movements. The leather armor had always been enough for her, although she had never been in much of combat to require it. After laying out the armor, she retrieved some clothing from the dresser, draping it over her arm before she lowered herself to the floor, making her way out to the hall.

"Woah," she mumbled in quiet awe as she entered the barren bathhouse. Steamy air filled the space around her, scented with a variety of mingling aromas. The room was split into two sections- presumably for males and females- and held every luxury she imagined she could ever wish for. "What kinds of people must these dragons tamers have been, if they could afford for such richness and comfort?" She pondered aloud to herself. They had not seemed to even spare expense on the oils and towels! She hurried over to the part of the room for women, and hastily grabbed a towel and random oils for a wash. She cast a cursory glance around the room, verifying that it was indeed empty, before removing the remainder of her garments and stepping into the hot bath water.

Having no personal sense of time to use as a judge, she allowed herself for five minutes time to wash before she must direct herself to the kitchens for food. The collection of tamers might already have congregated there. They could already have begun training. The thought aroused in her a faint anxious tremor. Without pause, she lathered her hair and scrubbed down her skin, washing away sweat and dirt from her scalp and torso. Thick lines of grime lay where the edges of her clothing and armor had been, picked up from the floor of the coliseum. She rubbed them away and ducked under the water to rinse out her hair before exiting the bath, drying herself with the silver towel and placing her soiled clothing in the appropriate baskets, dressing in clean garments. The loose clothing would permit easy movement and breathability, she hoped. Her hair she left around her shoulders to dry in the air.

She truly must have awoken late, because a number of people had accumulated inside the kitchens, where a large meal was waiting for them. She sidled in without a sound, serving herself a decent sized portion of food before seating herself in the corner, keeping to herself. She watched them interact, but didn't join in with the conversation. She rose to her feet when she finished, cleaning away her dishes as she had been taught to do as a child.

You should try to talk with them. Aerarya's voice startled her, causing her to jump imperceptibly.

I would rather not. I'm not entirely sure if I can trust these strangers. She replied, brushing her hair back before exiting the kitchen. She leaned against the wall of the hall, unsure of what to do next.

I am rather confident in the choices of my brothers and sisters. If they believed that these humans were worthy of a bond, I believe they are worthy enough for your trust. You cannot join with them if you cannot learn to to place confidence in them.

She spoke true, but Sairantha couldn't help but hold onto an inkling of doubt. She wanted to believe in her drake's words, but if a drake chose to bond with Abaidon... what judgement could they have?

She pushed away the ignorant thought. Again, Abaidon couldn't be that horrible of a person. It was merely her flawed perception of him that was causing the issue, although she couldn't quite convince herself of that either. She sighed heavily, making her way outside into the fields. This was going to be a long journey if she had to fight both herself and the struggles ahead.

Return of the Dragon Tamers: The Plague of Ogual

Soulserenity20

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Gencha WILL be MINE!

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The bane of the uninspired

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Norindul Lore Master

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