Fantasy Blight of Eileynn: Wings of Valor

[Novafire]

The Citadel. An amalgamate of different city structures combined into a bustling melting pot kingdom. It extended for miles around in a waxing gibbous shape with a spire-like mountain in the center. Narrow buildings claw their way up the mountain, topping it in a glowing golden palace that reached past the clouds. Below it, large stone pillars carve their way entirely through the mountain’s middle. Surrounding the stoney caverns and towering pillars was a large middle most layer was lush with green foliage. Ancient trees clustered in the center, creating a dark twisting forest. Extending downwards from the forest stood stack-like towers that continued for miles creating a narrow labyrinth that descended down into the void. South of the sprawling city a large bay leading to The Silver Seas sparkled in the pale moonlight and city lights above, ships of various sizes lining its harbor.

Short vegetation covered wings tore through the air as two brown and green creatures scaled the walls of the metallic stacked homes of the Lower stacks. Earth Dragons were masters of scaling the vertical surfaces of the towering heights of Eileynn’s capital, The Citadel. On their back sat two Riders, clad in golden mail with intricate ornate designs. They quickly scoured the area., kicking up dust and rubble as they kicked along the walls. An Orcish mother tossed a basket of rotten gourds towards them as they paused on top of her makeshift clothes rack. Trading obscenities in different tongues, the two dragons leapt down, gliding with ease to an older looking rail system.

Wheels creaked across the steel rails that strung themselves across the towering stacks. Designed similarly to the mine carts from the Dwarven Mines of Thjarrmor, this rickety transport service was hardly efficient. What it lacked in speed, it made up for in lack of use during the night, allowing for a clear path through the stacks. A large steel wagon rolled itself down the tracks, several Citadel Knights portioned towards the front, with two others bringing up the rear. Crawling along the rigid scaffolds beneath were two Earth Dragons and their Riders, escorting the precious cargo inside. Those that scored the cargo donned heavy golden armor that suggested their rank, The personal protective Knights of the High Council. High Guards. Slowly making their way across the capital, they paused every so often to check the cargo that lay in the back of the wagon and switch the alignment of the rails. Stopping first at the meeting point between the Middle and Lower stacks, requiring an escort due to the more nefarious neighborhoods, hence the heavyweight Earth Dragons. When they reached the convergence point of the Middle Stacks and the High Stacks, they paused yet again.

It was just past midnight, the thick forested ring of trees known as the Middle Stack glowed with fireflies and the occasional flock of fae. The Middle Stack Market still had a few tenders open, mostly taverns and inns with the occasional meat pie stand still serving those who wandered in the night. The guards gathered around, checking the surrounding perimeter as the Earth Dragons settled in the streets.

One of the Riders motioned his way back towards the railways, the other nodding in agreement as the cargo’s dragon escort departed quickly, the earth dragons quickly leaping away into the Stacks. The remaining guards huddled close, bickering about who was picking up supper for the group.

“Ay Leon, I know you took the last watch for the last two nights, but that don’t mean you can’t grab the pies! I’ll even throw an extra copper in for ye!” One of the Dwarven Knights grunted out, offering up the dented rust colored coin to the short human called Leon. Leon let out a long groan, snatching the copper and trudging over to the meat pie shack. The dwarf let out a heart laugh “Thas a good boy there! And don’t forget the potatoes!” he shouted after the dejected guard. Checking the cargo one last time before ascending up into the High Stacks, the Dwarf guard clamoring into the back of the cart. His stubby hands carefully lifted the insulated crates that lined its walls. Each delicately secured crate held a large egg, around the site of a large moon melon. The Dwarf Knight dutifully checked each and every box, counting a total of twenty. Twenty eggs. The cart screeched as it began to roll up the rails yet again, only a few guards left as the cargo neared its final destination.

The gilded archways of the Citadel Knight headquarters loomed in the distance, only a vast sea of towering stone and steel stacks rising around it stood in the delivery’s way. The soft golden glow of the Sky Stacks above illuminated the rooftops of the High Stacks, this portion of the capital unusually quiet for this time of night.

It was not uncommon for those in the High Stacks and Sky Stacks to throw lavish parties that rolled well into the early morning hours. But tonight, an eerie calm settled upon The Citadel. Faint orange light lined the railway, small oil lamps fixated beneath the track, illuminating the underside of the slow moving transport.

The cargo ascended higher and higher, suspending above the taller Stacks towards the center. The rails began to creak loudly as the cart crest the top, the guard’s careful steps along the sides causing the steel to sway. The shipping rails had always been less than taken care of no matter the layer, the High Council cutting coin cost where the could. However the rails were still used daily, lugging supplies in an out of the various layers nonstop throughout the day. A narrow suspension bridge strung between the towers that supported the base of the Sky Stack swayed precariously as a gust of wind rushed through the narrows. From the opposite side of the bridge, movement in the shadows cast from the bridge.

One of the guards waved for everyone to stop, jogging forward with a few heavy grunts. His armor clanked loudly like a hammer against an anvil; echoing down to the Lower Stacks far below. He almost tripped as he made it to the mid point across, another gale sweeping through.

“Who’s there!” he called out in a gravel laden voice that went unanswered. The bridge swayed back and forth again and again, the guard bracing against one of the tendrils of wire that tethered itself to the nearest Stack.

All was quiet as the swaying of the bridge ceased, the guard removing his golden helmet to glean a better look. With nothing to see in front of him, he turned back to the cart and gave the ok signal. “Bring ‘er forward before the winds pick up again lads!” he bellowed, the metal wheels squealing loudly, rolling forward with a lurch.

Walking it along the rail, the Guard cautiously trudged forward, their eyes trained on the path forward. It wouldn’t be long to the Citadel Knight’s gilded halls now.

Suddenly from behind, three consecutive blasts rocked the bridge, followed by a barrage of smaller explosions against the stacks surrounding the suspended platform. Metal wiring snapped and lashed wildly as the bridge began to sag. The guards scrambled to stabilize the cart, its heavy weight carrying it backwards several feet. Above them, a row of grey hooded figures stood along the rooftop overlooking the bridge

“Look alive Lads! We can’t let ‘em have the cargo! Deugur! Quit yer damn whimpering’ and blow the damn horn for Odinsake!” The Dwarven Knight grunted, bracing his shoulder against the back of the cart and holding it steady while the others drew their swords. Deugur presumably scrambled to pull the horn from his waist to his lips, never getting the chance as an arrow seated itself into his neck. Blue blood spewed fourth from the wound as he pulled it out, his words drowning in a gurgle of foam. Letting out an anguished cry, The Dwarven Knight released his hold on the cart and letting it continue to sink back slowly.

Reaching to his chest, he pulled a thick runestone, the Dwarf staggering as three more blasts stripped more of the suspension wires from their seats. The rails groaned with stress now, the sound of tearing metal screeching through their air. Smoke and the distinct smell of brimstone choked the surrounding area. Crushing the rune in his hand, a bright orange energy filled his body for a moment before lashing outwards in the shape of a great flaming bird. The figures standing above did not falter, the center most figure in white robes raising his hand up as the bird connected with his palm. A white light filled the area as the flaming bird disintegrated upon contact, turning to little more than dust in the wind.

The Dwarf Knight took a step back, eyes widening as his comrades stood there; equally stunned. The white robed figure lowered his hand towards the remaining Knights and the cart. “Get Down!” The Dwarf howled, diving to the rails as… nothing happened. The confused Knights looked at each other from their fetal positions in surprise, raising their eyes up to the white robed man. “Heh! Whats tha matter lad? Havin’ trouble?” he chuckled out, the mystery figure above still holding his hand out. The bridge groaned loudly, a loud snapping noise sounding from the top wires, thick as trees finally pulling loose. The crashed through the remaining scaffold propping the two ends up, the damaged metal crumpling in on itself. The cart tipped sideways, crate spilling out the thick canvas top. With a crash, the rails came tumbling down and with it, crates encasing Dragon eggs of various kinds toppled downwards into the depths of the stacks.

 

[One Mean Ghost]

[div class=background][div class=displayContainer][div class=characterDisplay][div class=container][div class=characterInfo]
Aliases: Kit, Phantom Thief
Race: Bestias
Age: 25
Skills: Thief, Illusion Magic,

Dual Swords, Hand to Hand​

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Age: Baby
Element: Energy

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[div class=characterName]Ki'Tavi[/div]
[div class=positioner][div class=dragonName]Nishati[/div][/div][/div]
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It was a lovely night.

Well, those in the Lower Stack could assume it was a lovely night, anyway. The thick smog that blanketed the Industrial District, as it most often did, obscured the starry sky such that only the light of the moon could cut through.

Down here, night didn't mean a decrease in activity, more like the types of activity shifted. Instead of work, now the various people that called this health hazard home now allowed themselves leisurely pleasures like gambling, drinking and, well, more lascivious affairs. Money gained during the day was oft lost before the next sunrise. If nothing else, though, it provided a welcome respite from the doldrums of life.

One particular establishment was quite lively this night. The Soggy Bottom was a popular locale for those eager fools looking to part with their daily wage, and this night was no exception.

In one corner, a lanky human sat at a piano that had seen better days. The frame was cracked, several of the ivory keys had been replaced with whatever was found laying around, and the pedals were old push broom heads that had lost their bristles. Yet still, this starving artist tickled the keys and brought a small amount of culture to the place, even if the pleasant music was oft drowned out by the general din of patrons chatting, cussing, and discussing various subjects. Still, some patrons would drop a coin into the little jar that sat on the piano, feeding his starving belly like the music filled his starving heart. If he was lucky, a particularly soused patron would buy him a drink, or a meal.

Fortune, it seems, favored the artist this night as a cloaked figure made his way inside. A few patrons looked up, laughing when they recognized the familiar ragged cloak of The Soggy Bottom's most recognized regular. With deft precision, he flicked his wrist and a few coins landed squarely in the barkeep's outstretched hand.

"A White Elven as per usual, then?" Samwise called, tucking the coins in his pocket even though he already knew the answer. This particular patron had a preference, and particular tastes. A little coffee liquor, a good dose of cream, and two gratuitous shots of vodka were mixed over ice in a stein and sent sliding to the patron's outstretched hand as he reached the bar. Without breaking stride, he took his first swig, nodding approvingly as he made his way to one of the many poker tables strewn haphazardly about the room.

He had his favorite seat, a particularly sturdy mahogany chair with perhaps the only cushion in the place that hadn't needed a patch yet. The current occupant, seeing the approaching cloaked figure, quickly slid one seat over to make room, flashing the figure a five toothed grin.

"Thanks for keeping my seat warm, Archie. Let's hope Lady Luck rewards your consideration" The figure purred, pulling back his hood before addressing the man at the Piano. "Play us a song Piano Man!" He called with a hearty laugh. The Bestias known as Ki'Tavi was something of a Legend here, and his reception showed it as the man at the piano started up a song that he'd learned when he wore a younger man's clothes. Kit had uncanny luck, such that he always left with more than he came in with, but no one had ever been able to figure out his trick. Since he'd never been caught cheating, no one could ever complain about losses.

Amber eyes scanned the table and his other gamblers. In addition to Archie, who had an incurable gambling addiction, there were five others in various levels of attire. One dwarf looked like he'd just got out of a mine, but on the other end were a couple of elves who were likely only in the Lower Stacks for the sake of gambling. Archie was the only regular at this table, likely because no other regular wanted to tempt fickle Fate against Fate's chosen son.

This particular game of Two Card Poker, at least here, pitted the players against each other and the House. The house, however, never placed wagers, and only existed as an extra hurdle to bring in coin for the establishment. The benefit, and the big draw, was this meant the odds of winning here were comparatively higher than other establishments. In parlors where you competed purely against the House, the odds were always in the House's favor by hook or by crook, and you'dbe tossed out if your streak was too good. Sure, there were places to only compete against other guests, but those places tended to draw a rougher crowd.

On this night, Ki'Tavi's famous luck continued. Sure, he lost some hands to the house, but at the end of the night, Kit had near tripled his money, and Archie, by some fortune, had doubled his.

However, Kit's luck seemed to have run dry, as he lost three straight hands to the house.

"Well, that's the end of my luck, it seems. So I'll call it a night here" Ki'Tavi purred as he finished off his drink. The Piano Man sat up a little straighter, trying not to make it obvious he was watching the cat as he stood to leave. When Kit moved towards the door, his shoulders started to sag. No doubt he'd been hoping Kit, who had sat fairly close to the Piano, would have offered a tip.

The musician jumped at the melodious sound of coins in his jar. Five gold pieces!? Could he be seeing right?! Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked after the cat, who simply waved over his shoulder as he made his exit. It was all he could do to mouth a 'thank you' before he began a new song with a soaring heart.

What could he say? Kit appreciated some nice music while he basically robbed hapless fools blind. Sure, he called it bad luck, but really, he thought of it as the House Tax. He'd lose a few games and feed the House some of his winnings just so they'd permit him to keep coming in. He even spread the "luck" around to those that earned his favor, like Archie. The whole time, it hadn't been a matter of luck. He'd known who would win every hand before it was dealt because he controlled the cards that were seen.

Illusion Magic was great that way~

As the cool air hit his fur, he stretched his arms over his head. Not a bad night of gambling, and it was still relatively young. Midnight was half past, but the hustle and bustle down here in the Gambling Quarter hadn't slowed down.

As he contemplated where to take himself next, his ears suddenly perked up, hearing a strange sound. It was a thud that was almost... metallic? Puzzled, he turned his head towards the opposite rooftops as he spied something rolling along the rooftop.

His eyes widened as a grin spread over his features. That iridescent sparkle from the lamplights; the curious oblong shape; that particular sound it made as it bumped along... It could only mean one thing!

A Dragon Egg!

And judging by the size, Kit surmised, it wasn't one of the paltry pets promoted by the pretentious persons with power. No, this was an egg that'd grow into the decorated mount of a Citadel Knight! One of those on the Black Market would easily net him a small fortune! Suddenly, the impressive sum he'd won gambling seemed a mere pittance. His tail swayed excitedly behind him as he tore down the streets after his prize.

He needed to get to the rooftops, and fast! Spying a crate set out against a wall ahead, he used it as a springboard to vault onto the roof.

"Come to Uncle Ki'Tavi now~" he purred, tearing off after it. His amber gaze stayed trained on the egg as it turned end over end down the gently sloped rooftops of the Lower Stacks. Without warning, it started rolling off the roof, bouncing off a canopy for a vendor before rolling down a roof on the opposite side.

"Clever girl..." Ki'Tavi muttered, watching amazed as the egg somehow stayed out of the public eye and yet continued on its tumultuous trek. Following after it, he bounced off the same canopy, flipping once through the air before landing gracefully on the opposite side.

"Now where did it-" he cut himself off as he saw the egg rising on some crane. His tail dropped. "How in the holy fuck?..." he swore aloud, shaking his head as he resumed his chase. This egg was absolutely testing the limits of luck.

From that crane, it somehow rolled perfectly onto some scaffolding, slid down a chute, and the devil only knows what else it did before luck seemed to run out. As it came to rest on a plank of wood, a worker sat on the other end, launching the egg into the air and most certainly towards a scrambled splat on the hard ground some thirty feet below.

Kit, running along a nearby roof, launched himself to the air, his whole body extending with feline grace as his outstretched claws reached for the oblong object of his desires.

Hot. Definitely Hot.

Kit managed to get his paws around it, contracting his body to flip through the air before he landed, rolling several times in the ground before coming to a stop with the egg clutched to his chest, somehow not scrambled.

Panting to catch his breath, Ki'Tavi finally took a moment to appreciate what he had acquired. The iridescent scales of the egg were strikingly beautiful, catching the moonlight in a stunning display.

"Man... you sure made me work to get you.. let's just hope whatever's inside didn't get scrambled with all that rolling around..." he mused. Wait... hadn't the egg been hot to the touch?

Curiously, he pressed his cheek to the shell. It was warm, but not nearly the same heat he'd felt when he first touched it. Peculiar, but then again, he knew little about dragons, so he just wrote it off as a peculiarity.

"Shame my fence isn't going to be awake for a few more hours... guess that means I'm taking you home for now" Kit murmured, grateful this particular area was devoid of foot traffic unlike the Gambling Sector. Still, he tucked the egg into his backpack so it wouldn't be seen, adjusting his cloak so it covered the hump on his back.

For now, he'd just head for home. He could take the egg to his fence and see how much he'd get for it in the morning. For now, a bath and a nap were on the menu. The rest could wait until then.

Or so he thought...



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[Novafire]

Deep within the Southern market of the Middle Stack in a dusty old tavern called the Twisted Cellar, a crowd of various races gathering around a makeshift pit in the floor. It was here that many from the various layers of the Stacks came to watch and bet on creature fights. Sometimes it was only an Orcish gerbil race or a Cockitrice fight, but every so often some Dwarf managed to get their hands on something good. The fights had been relatively tame throughout the night so far at this establishment, this however didn’t seem to bother the various patrons. A thick cloud of pinkish smoke lingered in the rafters, spewing from the back corners where a group of Woodlings were blowing rings and images out above the rest of the tavern. Mead sloshed the the floor as the crowd roared and hollered, coins and gems being tossed into a large brass drum that was pulled along by a trio of green and teal Pixies.

“Last call for the pot!” the smaller of the pixies called out, whipping up into the air with a twist, pulling out a small parchment from her robe. Many of the tavern’s occupants quickly began dumping the remainders of their pockets into the cauldron, one clearly drunken human stuffed a half a loaf of bread in as his bet. The Pixies accepted it.

Seated amongst a group of brother Orcs was a bored looking pale skinned Wyx with long spiraled horns. Her face was line with crimson rune markings that were obscured by her silver beaded hair that fell past her shoulders. The young Wyx was quiet compared to the majority of the pit’s occupants, counting her coins one by one absentmindedly into a small satchel at her side. She tossed a handful of silver coins into the pot once it circled around to her table, making her final addition to the drawing at the end of the night. It had been a long day searching for Wyrmsroot and Fae dust deep within the reaches of the Middle Stacks’ darkened forests. Her hands were stained with star berry juice, her clothes stinking of various fungi and pungent herbs. The Wyx sighed and leaned back into her seat as her Orcish company ordered another round. Her black and crimson eyes watched as two small cages were brought out by some rather rugged looking Dwarves with beards that trailed down to the wooden floors. These guys looked like they came with something interesting. Her ears twitched upwards, her curiosity peaked finally as the sheets covering the cages were removed.

Inside the cages were writhing, screeching, insectoid creatures, their snapping pincer like jaws like knives sliding against each other. The Wyx’s hand quickly shot up with a small coin purse laden with gold. She loved this things. They always put on a good show. “75 on the green one!” she called out, tossing it to the Pixie that quickly fluttered over to collect the bet. Fluttering back to a large black tally board, they scribbled the symbols of the Wyx’s name into the section for her chosen Armored Centipede.

“Qoxo: 75 gold pieces!” the Pixie called out, the orcs sitting beside her raising their gold as well. the tavern exploding into bets on all sides. Pocket purses and coins tossed around the room, various pixies scribbling down the many bets and betters. Everyone’s drinks were filled up to the brim, a roasted hog being checked onto the table Qoxo shared with the Orc’s. Tearing chucks of juicy meat off with their hands they offered some to their new found Wyx gambling friend. Happily taking a handful of flesh for herself she took a bite and sat back, hoping not too many ended up betting with her and her 'friends'. So far, most seemed to be betting on the larger red one, as opposed to the smaller quicker green. A light tap on her shoulder made her turn her head.

A tall Woodling towered over her, a small teacup in hand with steaming water filled almost to the brim. Qoxo gratefully accepted the hot water from the noticeably elder Woodling server, moss and lichen coating his body in a throw of pale green foliage. She gave him a pointed smile and a handful of coppers in return. Turning back to face the pit, Qoxo dipped her hand down into the breast of her shirt, pulling out a teabag packed with various herbs and fungi. Dipping it into the tea and let it begin to soak, the water turned a delightful shade of warm amber in a matter of seconds. Her bright crimson irises fixated on the board, watching the odds get tallied. She was in luck, Most everyone ended up betting against her, save for her table and a few Moor Elves across the room.

The Dwarves began to position the cages away from each other, the thrashing insects inside tearing at the cage bars to get at one another. Their scythe like jaws snapped wildly, trying to take off the hands of the two dwarves as they held the release points of the cages. The announcer Pixie swooped to the center of the pit, flutter just below the smoke line. “Bets are placed!” he screeched, waving his hands as the crowd hushed down to a whisper. All that could be heard was the furious screeching of the pincers against metal.

“Match begin!” The announcer Pixie called, the two Dwarves pilling the pins and leaping backwards as quickly as they could. The cages fell apart with a clatter, sending dust up as the Armored Centipedes scattered around the pit, looking for a way out. The curved and slick inner linings prevented any escape, the two bright shelled creatures quickly turning on each other.

The hall erupted loudly as the two plated beasts coiled around each other, their legs squirming wildly as the writhing ball of insect rolled around the ring. Qoxo sat forward, watching intently as the match carried on. The larger red one seemed to have the upper hand, his body completely encasing his opponent. However, Qoxo kept her eyes trained on the fight. You could practically hear the sound of the smaller centipede’s plating begins crushed under the pressure of the red's. She took a slow sip of her tea, tapping her foot anxiously as it seemed she had lost her coin. The crowd roared with delight as the favorite seemed to be winning, premature celebrations filling the room.

The red Armored Centipede despite its larger size couldn’t seem to fully crush the smaller centipede he had coiled against, unable to deliver a finishing blow due to its elongated pincers. And then, an earsplitting screech as green blood spewed out of the pit onto one of the Orc’s beside Qoxo. Two small green pincers popped out the back of red centipede’s armor plating. It chewed it’s way slowly forward, the red centipede screeching and convulsing as the green centipede burst forth. The red one dropped to the ground as the victorious green began to eat his opponent.

Qoxo’s eyes raised in surprise, her Orc companions leaping from their seats in victory. Pork flying everywhere as they pulled the Wyx into their arms, they squeezed her tightly covering Qoxo in centipede blood. So tightly the young Wyx could barely breathe; the air forced from her lungs. The Pixies dropped their winnings on the table, Qoxo pocketing nearly 300 coin for herself. Suk, the largest and darkest of the three Orc's insisted on Qoxo taking home the pig’s head. His brothers Huk and Duk vehemently agreeing.

“No no, really just this is enough, it’ll take me a whole week to get through it!” Qoxo countered, much to the despair of Suk and Huk and Duk. Her ears folding down in embarrassment, she offered them instead a small scroll, with a map to her hut in case they ever needed any elixirs, herbs, or potions. The brothers scribbled their own location, in case she ever needed three gigantic Orcs. Finishing her tea, Qoxo quickly stashed away her winnings and gathered herself. Bidding farewell to her new friends the young Wyx grasped her white ash staff in her hand. Its beads clinked against the old wood as she pushed through the crowd towards the exit.

The Announcer Pixie’s voice picked up, rising above the crowd once more, “The final drawing winner has been picked! Everyone gather round!”

Qoxo continued towards the exit, shaking her head softly. She’d already gotten lucky with that fight earlier, her chances of winning the pot tonight were slim.

“Qoxo! Lucky night!” the announcer called, the Wyx’s eyes widening in surprise. “Sack or Credit?”

Her ears dropped low as she slowly turned to face the crowd. Some of whom narrowed their eyes suspiciously. “Oh no…” she muttered, pushing her way up front, “S-sack. Damn it…”. Quickly grabbing the winnings sans loaf of bread. without another word she hurriedly made her way out of the tavern and into the Southern Market street.

She heard the tavern doors open and close a few seconds after her, footsteps echoing not far behind. Qoxo bit her lip. She didn’t even drink that kind of tea tonight! These winnings were fair! ducking her head as she turned the corner of the street that led to the forest paths. Here, there were many large holes that dropped down to the Lower stacks, like large steam stacks. Various streams fed down into them as well, flushing the large gutters that shot all the way down to the base in some areas. One had to be careful navigating the twisting labyrinth of trees and holes that littered the land.

The footsteps behind her grew faster as she broke out into a run, moving to dash around a tree as an arrow whizzed past her face. Freezing in place, she turned around slowly with an irritated scowl. A group of humans approached. “C’mon Hellspawn. Give it up. You know you cheated. We’ve seen you before in the Lower Stacks.” the human with the bow called out, motioning for her to drop her winnings. “Go on, drop it. We don't want any trouble now do we sweetheart?”

Qoxo narrowed her eyes and snorted, “This is pure shit…” she muttered under her breath moving to drop the sack. She was outnumbered five to one here. There wasn’t much use in trying to fight with an arrow pointed at your face. One of the humans walked up and snatched the sack away, opening it up quickly to catch a glimpse of their prize.

“Thanks Hellspawn, I didn’t think your kind could thi-“ the man with the bow started, before a loud crash sounded. A medium sized crate dropped down from the sky with enough force to flatten the human against the ground, blood spraying against the trees. Qoxo’s eyes widened as a large egg rolled out from the now shattered box. The man with the bow’s friends stood there shocked and confused, looking at each other with dumbfounded expressions.

Taking this opportunity, Qoxo quickly whipped out her staff, striking it down upon the head of the nearest of the humans. His face split open with the impact, the Wyx shoving the blunt tip of the staff into his chest sending him back into his friend’s. With a swift movement, she scooped up the sack for herself and fixed it to her belt. One of the bigger humans lurched forward, wielding a club. he swung it wildly towards her, obviously drunk as his aim was severely affected. Movement along the path distracted her momentarily. The egg rolling it’s way downwards, seemingly swathed in a thick shadow. Qoxo felt the club make contact with her head, a crack forming in her left horn where the weapon made contact. Reeling back, Qoxo bared her teeth and struck her staff across the ground like a watch sending a burst of fire up into the face of her attacker. Screeching in pain, the human clutched his face; staggering backwards and running into one of his friends. Knocking his friend and himself down into one of the various pits, plummeting down into the stacks below. Their screams faded quickly into the night.

The last remaining human turned to run, tripping against the still rolling egg, falling back into a second pit. Qoxo stood there silently, the human whom she had split open lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. What in the hell was that? Her eyes fixated on the egg as it began teetering on the edge of the hole. “Wait… hold on wait!” she called out to it as it tipped over the edge.

Panic filled her as she dove forward, attempting to catch it; instead dropping down into the sky with it. She could see the plummeting humans descending down into the oil lit stacks, screaming for help, though none seemed to come. The egg was a few seconds ahead of her, soaring downwards at an incredible rate. Grasping her staff tightly to herself and closed her eyes, the crimson runes that were etched across her body began to glow as a black void opened up in front of her. In an instant she was spit out below the egg, still tumbling down at terminal velocity.

Spying the rapidly approaching streets of the Lower Stacks she braced herself, not even having time to question what she was about to do. She could feel her mana waning rapidly as she opened yet another portal beneath her, this time opening a second right on top of where she had entered; sending herself rocketing upwards and into the egg.

The second she made contact the world seemed too slow to a stop. Everything silent, and bathed in the moonlit haze. Stopped there in midair, arms cradling the large black egg. It’s surface seemed to swallow the light around it, a thick black smoke drifting around it. A faint crimson haze pulsed from the center, a steady heartbeat. And though this egg seemed to swallow all the light around it, Qoxo felt nothing but warmth.

Time seemingly sped up again, only a moment having passed as Qoxo lurched to the side and used her tail to wrap around an errant pole jutting from the side of a stack. Panting, the young Wyx shook her head back and forth, looking down at the Egg she clutched to her side. Dangling by her tail, she reached into the breast of her shirt yet again, finding a second teabag. Clearly labeled as non magical.

“I mixed up the tea…”

 

[PhantomSamurai]

Uta wandered the around the ghost town that was the dark stacks he had finished his training for the day so he decided to patrol the area he lived. He wasnt really expecting anything to happend his patrols were more of a way keep himself busy. This place really was a dump decaying buildings and structures all over, but this was where he made his home so it kinda grew on him. He made his way through various alleys and streets keeping his eyes peeled for anything unusual, though he knew it would be boring just like every other patrol he did as no one ever bothered to come down here.

He suddenly stops thinking he has heard something but brushes it off, but he hears the noise again this time he stops and listens closely. It sounded like something clacking gently across the ground as if
something was rolling along the streets, he puts his hand on one of the two swords he carried. He was not sure if it was anything but he was prepared just in case, his grip tightened on the handle of the sword as the sound grew closer and louder. "HELLO?!?! is someone there?" He shouts but getting no answer, "I must warn you I am armed and fully prepared to defend myself" he shouts again towards the direction of the sound drawing on of his swords.

He steadied himself preparing for whatever or whoever would show up in just a few moments as the sound got louder and nearer. Suddenly the thing making all the noise came into view it wasnt a person, but instead an object that was rolling towards him. He chuckled sheathing his sword as the object came to stop a few feet away from him, he looked at the object trying to determine what it could be but to do that he would have to get closer.

He decided to proceed with caution taking careful slow steps towards the object, upon reaching It he realized immediately what it was. "Is that a...no it cant be...but it is.." he mutters to himself realizing the object in front of him was none other than a dragons egg one of the most precious items in the entire kingdom one that was usually kept under lock and key. so what the hell is one doing all way down here, he thinks to himself staring at the red and black egg laying on the ground before him, he reaches a hand partway put towards the egg before suddenly snapping it back.

"No no no, I cant touch it, not mine I'm not a citadel guard I need to get someone official down here to take it back to where it belongs I mean they must be looking for this" he says out loud not wondering who he should get. But then again even if they are looking for it no way they could tell if it came all the way down to the dark stacks, also if they did come looking they wouldnt find me I'm pretty good at hiding, he thinks to himself wrestling with his conscious about what the best course of action would be. He started to lean towards finding someone to take the egg back where it belonged, that is until he looked at the large egg again for some reason he felt drawn to it almost like it was calling to him, but that's crazy right? Eggs cant call out.

He decided to say screw it and reached both hands out and gently picked the egg up immediately he felt it the heat the whole thing was hot enough to cause his scaled hands to sweat. Holding the egg just cemented further the notion that the egg seemed to be calling to him like he was meant to find it after all why else would a random egg just happen to show up in the one place he hung out. He made up his mind that he was going to keep and hatch the egg, with his mind made up he shoved the mobile furnace into his robe and made off for his his home cause he just had to process this turn of events.

 

[Turtelini]

At the docks, only a few hours in the night are silent. People work long hours, go drinking with strangers and gamble their money away in questionable establishments. When the last drunk stumbles home, they'll most likely already meet the first workers awake. The docks are the busiest place you can find in the city, and wasted time is wasted money. Wherever you go, you will be surrounded by screaming, shouting, commanding, laughing, crying and sometimes even fighting. Loading ships up and clearing their storages, carrying cargo around and caring for ships, this is the biggest business in the Lower Stacks … and Grenga was just one of the thousand little gears making this machine work flawlessly.

And, just as anyone else, she also deserves some time off. The prospect of having to see her parents tonight is not really something Grenga was looking out for … they always want her to join their storytelling circle, but she really just wanted to lie down and doze off. That's the reason why she sat here, in between two larger ships slowly rocking in the sea. Grenga was big, but her feet still couldn't reach the sea, not even with stretching them dangerously far down from the wooden planks. Not that she wanted to swim, no. For a matter of fact, she actually never evenhas learned to swim, despite living right at the sea. No, she just wanted to feel something different than ground.

The sea is so vast, it seems like it had no end. Every single day dozens of ships took off or came back, and everyone on board has experienced something else on their journeys. They have experienced freedom, and Grenga was jealous. She was tied here, by her family, her work, and well her only friends. Without them she would be nothing … to some extent, literally. Life is short here in the Lower Stacks without any connections.

Enough sulking around, Grenga should get her butt back home, no matter how annoying it could end up listening to the same old boring stories again. Maybe Granny has some new details she somehow remembered this time and will forget the next time. She stood up and stretched, flexing her muscle packed body. And from one moment to the other, she was freezing cold and drenched in water.

"What the -" Before Grenga could even react, another wave of salt water hit her face and filled her mouth. Surprised and unprepared, she accidentally swallowed some of it. Retching and coughing took over her, before she felt a soft push from behind.

Red-faced and pissed off, Grenga turned around and faced - an egg? What the hell?

The few words Grenga spared daily have failed her, and she just stared at the levitating egg in front of her with an open mouth. Water dripped down her body, collecting in a pool underneath her and then continuing their little travel down through the cracks in the wood. A new droplet formed at the tip of a hair hanging in front of Grenga's eyes, but instead of falling down … it fell up? Her eyes followed this anomaly wide open, and she realized a lot more water than just that drop flew up. It pooled into a ball of water, just splashing happily around in the air.

Looking back down at the egg, Grenga sensed some kind of sensation in her body … it was an emotion that she didn't actually feel at the moment, it was more of a … memory of that emotion. A memory that wasn't her own, but … the eggs? Grenga had a hard time understanding what happened, but she somehow knew that the egg was happy. The next feeling the egg sent her was even stronger - excitement.

And in a blink of an eye, a small air torrent surrounded Grenga and blew her dry from all sides. It was hard to stand still, as the wind was actually stronger than usually. This was like nothing Grenga ever experienced. When the wind died down, the egg was gone.

Panic took over, and Grenga didn't know why. She had to find the egg. And before she could even turn around and look for it in the docks, it flew right past her eyes. "Wait for me!" Grenga cried, and started running after her egg. Wait no, it's not her egg, just SOME kind of egg. Right? Something inside her screamed IT'S YOURS, while her own voice of reason bashed at a door inside her head and demanded that she should GO HOME. But Grenga just couldn't, her instinct took over and she chased the flying egg. Ridiculous.

What followed could only be compared to one of the more humorous stories Granny told her. It involved a lot of chasing, some slipping here and there, followed by a mysterious wind pulling her back up, some more running, and even a little bit of parkour. Never before was Grenga so out of breath, so sweaty and so filled with joy. She barely could contain a laugh, alternating between pleads to the egg to stop and her bellowing laugh. Somehow, all of this felt like it was meant to be. Grenga didn’t know why, but this egg? It was special.

Lost in their game, her screaming and laughing has alerted the Knight Guards, as she ran into two of them and knocked them right over. Nothing but an Orc could have handled her weight at this speed.

Grunting beneath her, the Knight barked at her. "You are arrested for stealing property of the Knights Guard!" The other one was trying to squirm out of the body pile. “And for assaulting the Knight Guard!” Property? What the hell is he talking about? Before she could think further, two other guards grabbed her from behind and lifted her to her feet. She now could see that her (wait no, just the! Not hers!) egg was captured under a fishnet. It fought to get free, flew into every direction, let objects fly at the guards, but nothing helped. At the very edges of the net, multiple stones were attached, all glowing with magic. This must prevent her egg from simply removing the net!

But before Grenga could think any further, a sound shook her whole body, and suddenly the night got pitchblack in front of her eyes.

 

[Spoiled Bread]

Ruma​

Little Song was only one of the many taverns that was built on the lower stack. Compared to other establishment however, this one was pretty tamed and has a relaxing atmosphere. The ones who goes here was usually the type who didn't want to get any trouble and just want to spent the night peacefully.

This night was no different than any other. The tavern was quite packed at that time and Ruma was juggling her tasks between serving foods to the customer, handling the money and washing the dishes. Though the routine was broken when the cooks in the kitchen screamed, followed by the sound of several plates being dropped onto the floor. Fearing the worst, Ruma grabbed her wooden sword and bursted through the kitchen door.

"What happened?! Burglar? Wild dog? Cockroach?" Ruma held her sword high, ready to strike the troublemaker.

The two cooks that screamed look relieved and ran to hide behind her. One of them pointed at the pile of broken clay plates on the floor.

"I-it's... I-it's... A moving rock, une!!"

"Huh??" Ruma was confused when she heard that the troublemaker was a rock, she was questioning the truth until something round rolled out of the pile of broken plate. It was best described as... a perfectly round rock, in the same size as an apple.

"It just suddenly came here from the storage. We don't know what it is... Maybe, it's a haunted rock!" One of the cook reported. The other slapped him in the face.

"No way it's haunted, it must be some kind of monster you hear me, monster!"

The rock started rolling in the kitchen. Stumbling into the stools and cabinet, as if it was blindly trying to navigate through the room. Ruma stepped on the rock and was wondering what she should do with this moving rock. It didn't seems to be a threat, the whiny boys were just overreacting.

She decided to kick the rock down into the basement. Other than the initial loud thud when the rock crashed into the basement, it sounds to be silent down there. Satisfied, Ruma locked the basement door and Just to be sure, Ruma checked the storage room. Except for a new apple-sized hole in the wall, there's nothing suspicious. Whoever did this prank, they must pay for the wall!

"Back to work, boys. We have people to feed."

 

[Fable]

Another night another party Eira was dragged to attend, mostly due to her boss's insistence she socialize every now and then. Honestly, it was always so bloody dull. She didn't care for the gossip that went on in these places. She had a tactic she liked to use when someone wasn't deterred by her uninterested expression and dared to speak to her; talk about the most boring aspects of her job. She mentally had a record list of how long someone endured this and the longest someone sticking around, smiling and nodding in hollow gestures, was fifteen minutes. At that point she had decided to talk about magic that could help them with their bad breath and they finally excused themselves.

So here she was watching someone approaching and she sighed loudly, her eye twitching in annoyance. Eira had enough of this and decided she was going to make her escape before her boss could notice. She weaved through the bodies of the others in attendance, using them to blend into the crowd as best as she could. Eira wouldn't be able to go out the the way she had come in so back exit it was, through the gardens and then around the building to the gate and getting out of here.

It was when she was making her way through the gardens that something caught her attention, something oddly shimmering in the low light in a stone birdbath. Her brows furrowed at the egg looking object. it couldn't be.

Eira was about to walk away when her curiosity got the best of her and she decided to get a better look. The closer she got the more real the egg appeared to be rather than some stone egg statue that someone had carved. She stared at for a few seconds before raising a cautious hand and letting her fingers glide across the crystalline looking egg. The moment she touched the egg it seemed to move slightly and she jerked her hand back.

The was a bloody dragon egg! The kind for Citadel Knights!

She looked around wondering what idiot had misplaced such an egg here. Not only would be slap the fool, but drag him to the Citadel by his ear. She was pulled from her violent thoughts when the egg made a new and very distinct crackling sound and breaks in the shell began to appear. Oh for fucks sake it was hatching?! Now?! In a state of panic Eira grabbed the egg. Maybe she could run it back to the Citadel before it fully hatched!

Eira grabbed the egg which it's bitter cold at first caused her to recoil from the very unexpected temperature. That wouldn't stop her though since she had thankfully been interested in ice magic and could channel it so she wouldn't suffer from frostbite. This time when she grabbed it the temperature didn't bother her. Now to just get to the Citadel before this thing hatched.

 

[honeylemon]

With the sun well below the horizon, Hollis should be asleep. And they would be, were it not for their decision to go back through a manual they'd written. They carefully flipped through the pages, double and triple-checking for misspellings, grammar mistakes, and other such errors. Alongside this, they checked to make sure the scrawlings of a past-them still made sense. Only one such error could be found- a misspelling on the tomato page- which was quickly fixed. Sighing, Hollis closed the journal, setting both it and the charcoal stick on a nearby table. They walked to the nearby oil lamp and snuffed its flame.

Hollis went through their night routine- brushing and scrubbing, along with double-checking locks- before flopping onto their bed. The day was... tiring. Perhaps planting a dozen trees in one day wasn't the best plan, especially when they'd planned to stay up. Regardless, it would have its benefits when harvest rolled around, and the trees would fruit. The planting time was near-perfect as well. Spring was likely the optimal time for tree planting.

They stared upwards, trying to imagine the sky beyond it. If they were to sit on the roof, would they be able to see the stars? Or would there be simply too much smog? This high above there shouldn't be that much obscuring the view... Hollis shook their head- it wouldn't matter anyway- just as they heard a loud thud.

What the heck? Nothing should be falling onto a roof of all things, particularly at this hour. And besides, anything that would have fallen wouldn't make that loud of a noise.

But... if it's a person... Hollis got out of bed, pulled on their boots, and grabbed their largest shovel. If the fallen... thing... is hostile... They also grabbed their lantern, quickly lit it, and stepped out of their home. They did their best to be cautious, warily tiptoeing past the door.

Just then, Hollis heard another thud. As if whatever- or whoever- that had fallen had now fallen to the ground. They breathed in a breath of fresh air, lifted their shovel, and crept ever closer.

Turning the corner, Hollis had to blink a few times. They rubbed the sleep out of their eyes twice, because it couldn't be... right? Right. No way that could've gotten here without the Knights knowing... They stepped closer.

No denying it now. That was a full-blown dragon egg befitting a Knight. Not one of the pets that the better-off kept.

Hollis set their shovel down, instead lifting the lantern. The egg was quite large too- much larger than they'd first expected. Shoot. What were they meant to do? If it was left out here, someone or something would take it- and they wouldn't likely be the Knights. But if Hollis took it then wouldn't they get into a ton of trouble? Okay yeah, but they could just explain the whole situation. Yeah. That works.

They set down the lantern and went to pick up the egg. When it started glowing. Nowhere near as bright as the lantern mind you- closer to about the level of a candle. So maybe picking up the egg wouldn't work. Scratch that, it's the touching part. Hollis walked around the egg instead, poked it to make sure it wouldn't break, and nudged it slowly but surely past the lantern and to their door. The egg continued glowing during this, but the light didn't seem to become brighter. Hollis walked back, grabbed their shovel and lantern, and set them inside. They quickly stepped back out.

The question now is how to get the egg inside without touching it. Maybe a sling or a basket? Hmmm, but that might take a while to make... Ah, screw it.

Hollis crouched, picked up the egg with both arms, and lugged it inside. Its glow became much stronger at this, now brighter than the lamp. Hollis set it in a basket of laundry- they didn't want it rolling away.

Hollis sighed and wiped a bit of sweat off their brow. They shut and bolted the door before sitting down on their bed.

They did not sign up for this.

 

[butterfly aubade]

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ELYINARA WAS SURE SHE'D HEARD A CRASH. The young pixie had been up late, helping her mother finish a rush order for a high elf, who had insisted that she needed the dress to be ridiculously over-the-top (with lots of ruffles, a double-deck skirt and puffed sleeves). Of course, it hadn't helped that the lady was also in urgent need of the order, as she'd proclaimed she had "many a-invitation to tend to." Ely had rolled her eyes at the excessively pompous attitude and had half a mind to snap back at the high elf for her self-centered behaviour, restrained only by the thought of the fit her parents would throw at her. They were already disapproving enough of her as it was, without her fiery temperment.

The dress was due in approximately 36 hours and Elyinara had just finished a 12 hour sewing session that was akin to absolute torture. More than once, she'd found herself nodding off, only to have the needle prick her back into full consciousness. She's probably acquired half a dozen pinpricks of crimson on her hands by now. Her mother had sent her off, waving her away as she was starting to become a hinderance rather than of help. Thus, the pixie had been taking a walk along her favourite forest trail, trying desperately to clear the fatigue from her clouded mind. She was, after all, expected to be in working condition, as their tailor's shop was nearing its peak activity.

However, as she had been heading back, Ely had heard a soft thud, magnified by the swishing of the forest's shrubs, carpeting over the floor like a green tarp. Curiosity sparked in Elyinara, but it was soon curbed by common sense; she was tried and probably half delirious, perhaps she'd imagined the sound? And even if it wasn't imaginary, the rational side of her argued that It wouldn't be particularly safe to stray away from the trail in the dead of night. Lest some unpleasant pixie-munching beast take advantage of her exhausted-to-stupidity mental state.

It took Elyinara a whopping five minutes to finally muster up enough courage to investigate the source of the noise. Traversing through the thick greenery, the pixie gripped her the hilt of her dagger (which she usually kept stowed away in her boots, just in case), her anxiety levels skyrocketing as she forced herself to take slow, cautious steps. She was, in other words, inching towards the source at a fraction of the speed of a snail.

It was another ten minutes before she finally arrived at a picturesque clearing. Peering out, Elyinara squinted as she struggled at make out the shape of what seemed like...could it be? Startled, the pixie let out a soft gasp. It was a dragon egg. An opalescent white rippled beneath the moonlight, as dashes of gold streaked across the egg's impossibly smooth surface. Still reeling in shock, Elyinara took a shaky step towards it, followed by another, then another, until she was nearly sprinting the distance. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the egg was in fact a multitude of grays and silvers. It was a thing of beauty, really.

Where had it come from? Logic told her that it certainly wasn't supposed to be here. Smack dab in the middle of the pixie forest, where dragons only existed in songs and stories. That however did not stop her from wrapping her hands around the egg, gently cradling it like an infant. Even though it was sizeably taller than she was (and a lot heavier than it looked), the pixie lifted it with care. Dragon eggs were priceless. It needed to be safely stowed away until its owner came to reclaim it.

 

[Diosa del Sopa]

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Here in the Lower Stacks, life never ceased, the pluming smoke never stopped corrupting the skies, and the most successful smithy on this side of the Stack, By Hammer and Hand, never let its forge grow cold.



The high-pitched song of a smith's hammer beat a tattoo of diligence through the night air. The tool's cry rang out over and over again over the ramshackle street, only broken by the roars of shifting coals before starting once again. The air hung heavy with the smell of cooling slag, and the wicked heat of the forge spilled red light out of the building's open face and across the tilted and turned cobble.



By Hammer and Hand stood out in the over-crowded neighborhood; where warped boards and screws that had been tapped one too many times had been used to build the townhouses and hovels, the little smithy had been constructed out of fine stone, where the rest wore rot-worn excuses for doors, the small shack that served both as the smith's home and his central place of business had a massive oaken door that stood proud. The building had been the target of critical investments that spanned the better part of a century by the keen owner, Jorek Ironforge, and the work ethic that had delivered the Dwarf here was more than apparent tonight. Despite the hour, Jorek was pounding away at piece of steel after piece of steel. His hands were shaping two new swords, a duo that would be presented to a pair of newly anointed Cathedral Knights a fortnight from now.



"I dreamed a dream last night of silk and fair furs," the low words rumbled out of Jorek's chest as he pulled the first of the blades from his anvil and unblocked the entrance to his forge. The fire roared as a fresh wave of oxygen was introduced, sending a wave of wicked hot embers out and across both Jorek and the workshop floor. The Dwarf, long since immune to the furious tongues of flame, didn't so much as look away as he plunged the cooling steel back into the fire to be reheated. He shifted to the right, grasping the extended handle he had forged onto the end of the second sword for ease of handling and drew it from the mouth of his forge. The steel glowed an angry red, another, albeit smaller, wave of sparks washing off of the metal as he planted it into place across the flat upper face of his anvil.



"...of a pillow so deep and soft, a peace with no disturbance." His words were only for himself, the Leviathan of Sound that swirled around his smithy swallowing the words whole almost as soon as they left his mouth. "And in the dream, I saw as though through a dirty window," his fingers curled around the familiar heft of his favorite hammer, and he hoisted the tool up high. "The whole ill-fated human race, a different fear upon each face," the hammer swung down in a great, but measured arc, slamming against the freshly bloodied steel. The calloused hand rose once again, "the number of their worries grow, and with them the number of their solutions-" His words fell in tempo with the slow, deliberate strokes of his hammer, slipping from his mouth like the strangled call of lightning whose sound had been murdered by the unforgiving walls of the Fenrusch. Another blow fell, bending the steel to the will of its master. Another came soon after, and another after that.



Jorek spun the steel within his well-practiced hands and began shaping the other side to perfection. Slowly, but surely, the stubborn metal gave way as more and more strikes were delivered. "but the answer is often a heavier burden, even when the question hurts to bear," Jorek grunted out the next line, his effort drawing the sound out of him as the steel began to cool further and further. The man moved through the steps that he had a thousand times before and spun, letting the hammer drop to its resting place beside the anvil and turning, steel in hand, to reheat the metal once more. "As I was able to sleep just as well, I thought that would be best-" the man continued, sweeping the high iron doors of his forge open once again to stab the worked steel back into its resting place. He moved with ease, replacing the second sword and withdrawing the first, closing the doors, and turning back to his anvil. The hammer found his hand, and he moved to swing once again, "to rest myself here on fine fur, and forget everyone else," his natural cadence slipped back into rhythm, and Ironforge began his work once again.



"Peace, if it is to be found, is where one is furthest from the human nois-" Jorek had started the next line just as his hammer had fallen onto the steel, and had stopped for the first time in several hours when a strange noise reached him through the din of his work. A quiet thud coming from his roof had reached Jorek through the report of his hammer, a break in the pattern he had set over a century. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut.



Down went the hammer as Jorek turned in a tight circle to the wall behind him and pulled his battle axe from the wall. He had always made sure to keep the weapon close at hand, even after the robberies had stopped, and the respect for his work had pushed him above the petty criminals. It had served him well when he was one of those petty criminals himself, it had served him well when the local thugs had come knocking to ask for protection, and it would serve him well now no matter what came before him.



Shoulders squared and an axe in hand, the Dwarf made for the door with intent. "I don't know who ye are, or what ye want, but ye options or to leave on yer own two legs or crawl until ye bleed to death after I take 'em." His words were as hard and cold as the steel in his hands, and just as dangerous as well. His advance towards the open face of the smithy faltered, however, as a strangely shaped grey and black speckled orb feel from the slanted roof of his humble home and onto the ruined stones of the street. Jorek stood and stared at the sphere for a few seconds, appraising the strange object for a few breaths before lowering the weapon to his side and approaching the object with spaced, diligent steps. He came to a stop a meter or so away from the spectacle, watching it with a keen eye as the dancing flames played all around the semi-matte steel-colored surface.



After taking a moment to check the corners of the building and the roof above him for danger or lurking thieves that were seeking to distract him, the smith made for the item once more and gave it the examination that a strange thing which rolled off of your roof truly warranted. It turned out that his initial take on the object hadn't been entirely accurate: The sphere had more of an egg-like shape, although Jorek had no idea what kind of beast could come out of an egg this massive, and its shell wasn't just speckled but semi-translucent. Small shards of what appeared to be metal were suspended in a thin, gelatinous layer that rested on top of a rock hard black base layer. On top of that, the outside was blazing hot, even by the standards of the experienced forge-master. A thought trickled in from the outer edges of his mind; was it possible that this was a dragon egg? His features hardened as he entertained that thought. A dragon egg would bring Cathedral Knights for sure, and the last time he'd had an unfortunate run-in with Cathedral Knights, he'd spent ten years in prison. He wouldn't be doing that again, especially when he had his life sorted.



Sighing, the man scooped the egg up into his arms and carried it over to the forge, opening the doors and bleed off ports so that the steel he was working wouldn't melt before he could return. After his work was made safe, he turned to the small offshoot that he called home and made for the door. The least he could do, Jorek figured, was to store the egg in a safe space so that it wasn't stolen before the Knights came knocking. Swinging the heavy door open almost effortlessly, he stepped into his home before closing the door firmly behind him and slamming the bolt home. He made his away across the small space, all the while wondering exactly how this egg had come to him. Knights didn't just lose Dragon eggs, anyone could tell you that, and the fact that it had slipped this far from their grasp deeply troubled Jorek. These things didn't just rain from the sky, despite what the evidence before him wanted to suggest, and that it ended up here meant nothing but trouble would come for him if his instincts were guiding him truly.



He slipped the egg down onto his bed and stood, holding it in his gaze. Despite the absurdity of the situation, he felt strangely attached to the egg, like some instinct deep within his very soul was telling him to stay and watch over the parcel. Something within his being was screaming at him to protect this egg with his life, and he had never been steered wrong by his instinct. Jorek spun on a booted heel and made for his forge. He had decided to stay with the egg, at least until it was claimed, but he couldn't leave a fire this massive untended, especially with the sword of not just one, but two Cathedral Knights inside of it. He moved around the forge with diligence in his step, opening the remaining burn off valves, and clearing the space around the forge. He set the blades on a special rack and made to go back to his room when the entire building rocked violently, nearly throwing the man off of his feet. Fearing that something had happened with the egg, Jorek gathered himself and took off as quickly as his legs could muster towards his room.



Something had, in fact, had happened to the egg. Something truly marvelous. Something that would shake Jorek's world down to its roots.

 

[One Mean Ghost]

[div class=background][div class=displayContainer][div class=characterDisplay][div class=container][div class=characterInfo]
Aliases: Kit, Phantom Thief
Race: Bestias
Age: 25
Skills: Thief, Illusion Magic,
Dual Swords, Hand to Hand

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Age: Baby
Element: Energy

[/div][/div][/div][/div]
[div class=characterName]Ki'Tavi[/div]
[div class=positioner][div class=dragonName]Nishati[/div][/div][/div]
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An explosion shattered the tranquil silence of the moonlit night. Kit fell forward, barely catching himself before his nose kissed the wretched ground.

With a flourish, he threw back his cloak and took off his backpack, even as his ears rang from the close proximity of the deafening boom. His eyes widened in shock as he beheld the tattered remains of his satchel. It had been made of a thick leather, rather expensive(had he paid for it), able to handle transporting blades, jewelry, or whatever else Kit got his paws on, yet here it was, looking like a pincushion with iridescent scales poking out of it from all sides.

Had the egg been a trap?

Perhaps that's what it was. Someone had set a trap for the Phantom Thief, knowing a dragon egg would surely draw his attention. Not that he was surprised. For years, he'd carried out various heists, pilfering purloined packages with perfect precision, and generally been a thorn in the side of nearly everyone with disposable income. He'd never left a trace, and he'd inspired numerous copycats. Unlike Ki'Tavi, though, the copycats quickly got caught. Fortunately for these imitators, they were quickly exonerated of all but the crime they were caught doing when Kit committed another heist. It had reached a point where the Phantom Thief was used as a Boogeyman to convince children to put their toys away, lest they be stolen in the night.

Yes, it had probably been a trap. Still, it was rare for his discerning eye to be deceived. Fortunately, the trap wasn't as well designed as the exterior. Otherwise it might have killed him.

His tail flicked behind him, his ears flattening as a sense of curiosity gripped him. He didn't know what compelled him, but he opened the remains of his satchel to a pair shimmering, iridescent eyes staring into his own.

He stood, stunned, as he realized he was staring into the eyes of a baby dragon. From tip of its head to its tail tip, it measured about the length of his forearm, though it seemed so much smaller. Every subtle movement the creature made caused its faintly luminous scales to appear a different color, giving it a wonderous appearance the likes of which Kit had never seen before. Every inch of the lovely girl had various markings that glowed brighter than the rest, even on the thin membrane of her wings.

Wait... how did he know this dragon was female? He couldn't explain it. Something in the way it moved? No, he just... knew...

A trill came from the little creature, snapping Kit's mind back to reality. Wait, did it just ask for his name? No, that didn't make sense. That sound it made hadn't been Common, or any language Kit knew, so how could he have understood it so clearly?

"...Ki'Tavi.." he finally answered, his tail flicking behind him as his unblinking gaze fixated on the tiny creature as it clambered out of his bag to climb up his arm. Tiny claws gripped his fur gingerly as the girl made its way to his shoulder.

She chirped as she watched him, and like before, Kit just... understood. From what he'd gleaned from rumors, Dragons and their Riders do communicate on some level. However, from what he'd heard, it was more like sharing a feeling, or sharing emotions that, well, could easily be misconstrued.

This was different.

It wasn't just sharing a feeling, though he could still feel the Dragon's excitement to meet him. It was deeper than that. He understood what the Dragon tried to say as clearly and effortlessly as if it were Common.

"Nishati... is that your name?"

A happy squeak answered as the Dragon's tail wagged like an excited puppy. It started chirping like a lovestruck lark, squeaks and whistles mixing into what probably sounded like a lover's spat between birds.

"Hold on Nisha slow down" Kit held up a finger, using the nickname Nishati had suggested at the start before she'd started her excited exposition. She'd said he was her Rider, that she was so happy she found him, that she thought his fur was the softest ever, that she was an Energy Dragon...

Trying to keep up with the stream of consciousness was a touch difficult. Without warning, Nisha nuzzled his raised finger, chirping happily.

It was later said that Ki'Tavi's small heart grew three sizes that day. At least, that's how Nisha recalls it. Although that is a complete exaggeration, she did succeed in melting his heart. Any thought of selling her to his fence was now completely gone.

A smile crossed his lips as he petted the little dragon with a fingertip. He'd never considered for a moment being a Rider or having a dragon. After all, that was reserved for Knights in high standing, but it seemed to him like that decision had already been made for him when Fate dropped Nisha in his lap.

That raised more questions, though. The Citadel Knights carefully guarded Dragon Eggs. Their convoys were always so shrouded in secrecy even Kit's information network never knew when they were going to move. Not that he'd push his luck and try to steal an egg anyway, but that was besides the point. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the Knights would probably be out looking for the missing eggs soon.

They'd probably want to recover this egg and any others before the sun rose. The last thing the Knights would want is for word to get out that Dragon Eggs were missing. It'd be a massive shot to their image, after all.

An earsplitting roar sounded in the distance, followed by another, and a third. He could faintly make out the shapes of two earth dragons climbing over buildings heading towards him as well as a fire dragon flying over them.

Now, Ki'Tavi realized, being in a vacant part of the Lower Stacks was a bad idea. He had no crowds to blend into, no safe places to hide... He pressed his back to a wall, taking a breath as he felt his mana wash over him like a gentle rain.

"Etac suf'bo"

The Earth Dragons leaped down into the ring of buildings where Kit found himself. During the day, this circle, along with the non-functioning fountain in the middle with the slightly murky brown water, would be a nice spot to take a seat and relax during the day. At night, the faulty lighting made it a place more utilized for shady deals. Notably, none of the surrounding buildings had windows or doors facing the circle, meaning that there were never witnesses to the dirty deeds done dirt cheap.

"There's nothing here!" A gruff, dwarven rider astride one of the Earth Dragons grunted as he looked around for any sign of Dragon or Thief. Even though several times his gaze passed right over Ki'Tavi as well as the Dragon on his shoulder, he couldn't see them.

"My magic has effectively erased our presence. They can't see us, hear us, smell us or anything. As long as they don't touch us... we're safe. Just don't move." Ki'Tavi murmured. Nisha chirped quietly, holding still as a statue as the two watched three dragons mull about the area.

"This doesn't make sense. All three of our dragons felt an egg hatch, and yet now they can't even pick up a scent?!" A muscular human spoke irritably from astride the Fire Dragon. Little did he know, his dragon's tail flicked within inches of Ki'Tavi's nose.

Fate, it seemed, was still siding with her favorite son. Still, seconds seemed like hours as the dragons mulled about. At one point, he could have reached out and touched one of the Earth Dragons, it had come so close to breaking his spell...

"I wonder if our Dragons weren't having a bit of fun at our expense, Oin..." one dwarf said to the other. "Maybe, Bifur... but for all three of our Dragons to pick up on it?" His comrade replied with a furrowed brow.

"We should just chalk this up as a false alarm. Let's investigate the other hatchings for now. We can always circle back lat-..." the human trailed off as he stared at the ground. He slid off his dragon and knelt down, picking up an iridescent scale.

"It was definitely here" the human informed the dwarves as he held up the scale from Nisha's exploded shell. Kit cursed under his breath. He hadn't thought to gather up any scales that broke through his bag...

"With a shell like that, must've been an Energy Dragon" Bifur quipped as he stroked his beard contemplatively. "The Council won't be happy if that one isn't found before the baby dragon scent wears off, Cale" Oin agreed scratching his currently beardless chin.

"Unfortunately, it's not here now. It's probably long gone, given we can't even pick up a scent.." Cale the human muttered. His dragon gave an apologetic growl even as he stroked its snout. "It's alright Firenz, it's not your fault the Lower Stacks are an affront to the senses. For now, let's check the other hatchings. We'll be better off if we don't come back empty handed after losing this trail" Cale called as he hopped back on his Dragon's back. The Fire Dragon took to the sky and flew off down the Stacks with the Earth Dragons right behind it on the rooftops.

Kit exhaled, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. "For now, Nisha, I'll keep your scent suppressed and keep you invisible to everyone else." Ki'Tavi murmured as his spell released. Once more, Kit was visible, but Nisha was not.

Nisha chirped curiously, tilting her head inquisitively.

"I specialize in Illusion Magic. I'm particularly gifted at avoiding detection." Kit explained to his shoulder companion. "I can only obscure so much at a time when I'm moving, though so you'll have to keep your voice quiet. Don't worry, my ears are very good, I'll hear you even if you whisper" Kit patted Nisha's head, quickly directing his feet back towards the Gambling Quarter.

Fortunately, the trio from before didn't double back, and Kit was able to make it back to The Soggy Bottom without further incident. The usual routine ensued. He got his drink, the Piano Man struck up another jaunty tune, but he decided against gambling for now, instead just sitting at the bar.

"When ye came back I thought you were gonna try to reignite that hot streak of yours" Samwise the barkeep remarked with a cheeky grin as he cleaned a glass. Kit chuckled. "Call me superstitious, Sam, but once my luck runs out, I don't like to press it again until at least the next night" Kit smirked coyly. Oh if only Sam knew the depth of that statement...

Truth be told, the real reason he didn't gamble was to conserve mana. Sure, his card trick didn't take much mana, but he didn't know how long the new dragon smell would last. For all he knew, he could be playing this high stakes game of hide and seek for a few days, and keeping Nisha hidden was already a slow leak on his mana reserves.

For now, he'd use the relative calm to plan his next moves. He'd evaded the Knights for years, but that was without a tracking beacon on his shoulder. He didn't dare go home. Until the heat died down he'd need to just stay where there were plenty of other people to mitigate his chances of being found.

"Everyone listen up!" A rough voice called out and Kit mentally cursed. As he glanced over his shoulder, two Orc Knights strode in, ducking under the door frame as they made their presence known.

"We're looking for a fugitive in here who stole something from the Citadel Knights. We know he's in here." The leader spoke, eyes scanning the crowd, no doubt expecting someone to just be holding a dragon like a house cat. His brow furrowed when he seemed to realize that it would not be so easy.

Instead, he resorted to throwing his weight around, flipping a card table when he thought he was being ignored. "You idiots better listen when I-" he was interrupted as a bottle of ale broke over the back of his head. There was a sudden eruption as one of the orc regulars threw an entire keg at one of the Knights. Yes, the entire keg. The Keg, conveniently, Sam had set out moments prior for "reasons" with a devilish smirk. Soon chairs, bottles, steins, and fists were flying everywhere as the hapless Knights found themselves under siege by a whole bar full of drunkards.

Archie, Gods bless him, made it his personal mission to safeguard Kit's favorite chair. As the brawl exploded, he grabbed that mahogany chair and ducked behind the Piano, staying out of harm's way with the musician, who made sure to secure his tip jar first before seeking shelter.

Using the commotion, Kit left some coins on the bar before dipping out the backdoor into a narrow alley. "These guys are persistent..." Kit muttered as he moved to get back to the main busy streets. His ears perked up as he heard wings, and he quickly pressed himself into a gap between the buildings before eliminating his presence once more.

"Come out, come out~" a female voice called from astride a fire dragon. "If you come out peacefully and hand over the stolen goods... I won't have to roast you~" she called playfully. Her smile turned into a pout when Kit didn't answer.

"Fine, be that way! Light 'em up Enferno" She ordered. Her Dragon's maw opened, a bright fire forming in its mouth before the entire alleyway became a hellscape.

So hot...

It burned his lungs. It felt like he was inhaling flames and the heat, that inhuman heat threatened to make him collapse then and there! Fortunately, the little alcove he'd found kept him from directly touching the flames, but had that inferno not stopped when it did... he'd have collapsed.

Gasping for the cool night air as the fire died, Kit watched as the fiery rider crossed her arms, surveying the scene. Finding no corpse, she frowned and directed her Dragon to leave.

Once more, Kit dropped his powerful spell, just keeping Nisha hidden as he got back to the main streets.

"This.... is getting complicated..." Kit mused. Several dragons lined the rooftops of all types, Riders scanning the crowd as they moved about. How were they finding him so fast? It couldn't be scent, so what was it?!

He wracked his brains, meandering about with the crowd as he wandered. As long as he was with a crowd, they wouldn't be able to narrow it down.

Nisha chirped quietly in his ear and his tail dropped. "Dragons can sense hatchlings?!" He hissed, trying to keep his expression even. That added a whole new level of complexity that he did NOT need!

Before he could get his thoughts in order, a blast of air knocked him off his feet. An Air Dragon stared down at him, growling with menace.

"You're under arrest for theft from the Citadel Knights! Come quietly and you won't be harmed" A Human, presumably the Air Dragon's Rider spoke, approaching Kit with sword drawn. At this point, Kit had two options: feign innocence, or fight. Given that Air Dragon was smart enough to single him out...

"No, I don't think I will!" Kit snorted, kicking out from his seated position and sweeping the feet out from under the Knight. He'd barely taken five steps towards escape when a whistle rang out.

Reinforcements were coming...

Among Bestias, each clan was different. Ki'Tavi's clan, above all else, was known for speed and agility. He tore through the streets like a bat out of hell, dipping through side alleyways and backways to try and elude his pursuers. Still, even as fast as he was, he couldn't hope to evade the Dragons forever.

Still, for the moment his constant direction changes had, at the very least, made them lose sight of him. As his course took him above the Lower Stacks, he caught the odd sight of a Wyx, hanging by her tail over the ledge. The ground below them, he knew, was quite a distance away.

Nisha chirped in his ear.

"Yeah, we should help. We got some time before those Knights catch up to us..." Kit agreed, making his way to the ledge. Hopefully this wasn't some new fad among the kids he was too old to understand.

"Well now... I've heard of hanging around, but you take it a bit too serious, don't you think, love?" Kit called down to the hanging heroine. He chuckled to himself, reaching down to grab her by the belt and hoist her back onto solid ground.

He wasn't sure what he expected. A thank you, perhaps? He certainly didn't expect to need to duck under an errant swing from the woman's staff.

"Woah, easy there. You're liable to hurt someone swinging that stick around like that. Namely me!" Kit protested with a playful grin, holding his hands up defensively whilst his tail flicked behind him. Clearly this woman had a rough time if she was so slap-happy, but he hadn't done anything to deserve it! .....yet.....

A deafening roar caused his smile to vanish. Nisha, her voice still not obscured, chirped anxiously.

"Right, we should go." Kit agreed, his amber eyes meeting those of his new Wyx friend.

"Sorry to cut and run like this, love, but unfortunately, I'm popular tonight. Name's Ki'Tavi by the way." he grinned, backing up from the ledge. Getting a running start, he leaped from the ledge as Dragons approached, catching on a pole and sliding down to disappear into the crowd below.

What ensued from there, doubtless, would go down in history as the single greatest chase in the History of the Citadel Knights. He'd put distance between them, then erase his presence until they inevitably gave up and moved on. He'd have a reprieve where he could mingle amongst the crowd, but those reprieves got fewer and further between after the sun rose into the sky.

For hours, Kit kept these Knights embroiled in a Citadel-wide game of cat and mouse. Everytime they got close, he'd dive down an alleyway or erase his presence and lose them again. The Dragons, for their part, openly voiced their frustration whenever Kit erased his presence. According to Nisha, their language was... colorful to say the least. They couldn't figure out what was going on, and the frustration carried over to the Knights, who seemed to be quickly losing their hold on sanity as the chase dragged on.

Ultimately, though, Kit recognized he was fighting a losing battle. His mana was running out, and more and more Knights were joining the pursuit, doubtless because the other eggs and hatchlings had been found already...

Making it worse, his physical limits were about to be reached. His legs trembled with exhaustion as he found himself back in the same circle where it had all began so many hours before. His mana finally ran out as Nisha hid in his hood.

He could hardly even stand as dragons filled the air and landed all around him. Knights dismounted and drew weapons, approaching slowly because, for the first time, they could see Kit was armed. The spell that had concealed his swords was gone, revealing a blade on his left shoulder and one fixed to his left hip.

To his credit, Kit didn't go down easily. The first Knight to reach him tasted his foot, and then all hell broke loose. He drew the sword on his hip, parrying one hit and kicking away his assailant. Drawing his second blade, he became a tempest, deflecting blows and deftly deflecting attackers. Knowing his situation, he elected to knock them out with the flat of his blade rather than go for the kill. He doubted, though, that it would help his case when the inevitable happened. No matter how many he dropped, he was too far outnumbered.

It was a battle Ki'Tavi knew he couldn't win. As he went to step, his legs no longer supported his weight and he fell to his knees. An orc's boot sent him tumbling to the ground coughing for air. He tried to fight his exhaustion futily to stand, but a boot stomped on his chest to ensure that wouldn't happen.

"You gave us quite the runaround, Cat... but this is the end of you.." Cale stood over him, sword pointed towards Kit's throat.

Without warning, Nisha sprang from his hood and wrapped herself over Kit's neck to protect him, showing her fangs and hissing up at the Knight.

Cale paused, looking from Kit to the Dragon that defiantly nipped at his sword tip. The gears clearly turned in his head as he hesitated. "What's this dragon's name, Cat..." Cale inquired, keeping his temper in check as he waited for an answer.

"Nishati..."

"Did you name her?"

Kit shook his head. "She told me her name when she hatched..." At this point, it didn't do him any good to lie. They had him dead to rights, and he knew it. The best he could do is cooperate and hope to keep his head on his shoulders.

Cale sighed, sliding his sword back into his sheath. "Chain him up. This situation got a lot more complicated" Cale ordered. Oin took his sheaths, collecting his weapons as Bifur cuffed his wrists, his ankles, and then practically mummified him with chains.

"Oy, Bifur, ain't that a wee bit... I dunno, excessive?" Oin inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

"This Cat gave us the run around for I don't even know how many hours, and made me miss breakfast. I'm not taking any chances!" Bifur retorted irritably.

"Ki'Tavi"

"What?" The two dwarves both looked to the cocooned cat who had managed to speak.

"My name is Ki'Tavi, not Cat" Kit repeated.

"Well Ki'Tavi, I hope you know you're in a whole heap o' trouble" Oin remarked as the two dwarves heaved Kit onto Cale's Fire Dragon and tied him down, even as Nishati hissed at them the whole time.

As the ground was left below them, Kit heaved a sigh. Nisha, even now, lay across his neck to protect him as best she could. "Thanks Nisha..." he murmured tiredly, his eyes slowly closing as exhaustion finally caught up to him and he lost consciousness.

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[Spoiled Bread]

Ruma​

Past the midnight was when Little Song's another side emerged. The tavern became a gathering point for people with eight-headed serpent tattoo in various place of their body. Two of them was particulary early this night, they came into the the tavern together before anyone else after they finished their duty.

The first one was a massive shirtless orc with a battleaxe strapped onto his back, he had the tattoo carved onto his torso, giving the impression of a giant snake coiling over his body.... at least it was supposed to be like that, but he got his tattoo way back when he was a skinny orc so now his buffed up body stretched the snake in his tattoo and turned it into tsuchinoko. The second one was a wyx girl with half her face covered by the tattoo. It seems she intentionally used the tattoo to cover the natural runes that her body poses.

"Une, we're thirsty. Give us drink!" The orc shouted inside the tavern, but the tavern was oddly empty. There's also a low rumbling sound that sounded like it came from below. Curious, the two entered the kitchen area and found Ruma and the two cooks standing in front of the basement door. Ruma was holding her sword and seemed to be praying while closing her eyes.

"What's happening here, Ruma? Why are you holding your REAL sword?? That's dangerous!" The wyx asked in a slightly panicked tone. The rumbling noise was heard again and Ruma opened her eyes.

"Something down there.... is hungry."

The two cooks standing behind Ruma went crazy. They were arguing whether it's a ghost or a monster.

"Moki, Mako, Goro, Shiha. If something happens to me. Please take care of Aram." Ruma opened the door and shone a lantern to illuminate the dark basement.

"Ruma, wait! Uh, cast, Bioglow." Shiha the wyx made some gestures in the air, then her hands started glowing brightly. They followed behind Ruma as they descended into the basement. At the bottom of it, they found the source of the uncanny growl.

"The rock grew some legs!" Mako and Moki pointed at the rock, which was now walking around the basement with its short two legs. Ruma smashed the rock with her sword and it crumbled, revealing a small hatchling dragon inside it. The dragon's body was lacking any scales and his eyes were still closed.

"It's a rat!"

"It's a lizard!"

"No, idiot. It's a dragon!" Shiha smacked Mako and Moki for their wrong guess. Meanwhile Ruma wrapped the dragon with a rag and picked him up.

"It's pretty cute..." She swayed the dragon gently in her arms, like what she did to her baby years ago. The small dragon let out a weak grumble as he made himself comfortable in her embrace.

"It looks delish- I mean, cute. Yeah!" The orc chimed in. "We can make it into The Serpent's mascot!"

The orc's idea seemed to garner some enthusiasm with Ruma and the two cooks. They were busy teasing and cuddling the newly hatched dragon. Shiha stomped her feet on the floor to draw their attention.

"Oy, am I the only one who know how dire this situation is?" The wyx's face turned serious, more serious than what she usually was. "Why is there a dragon egg here? And it's just hatched! If the citadel knight get a sniff of this... we will be in trouble!"

"What do you mean by that, Shiha?" Ruma's voice was now filled with concern. Except a few basic knowledge about dragon riders, she didn't know much about dragon. So listening to Shiha sounds like a wise choice for her now.

"When a dragon hatch, it will release a powerful scent that can be tracked down by another dragon. Moreover, you must know well how tight they guard their dragon's egg."

"but, it's only for the knight's dragon, right?" Ruma held the small dragon. "Just look at how small and adorable this one is. This must be a pet dragon. It won't be a problem if we smuggle this one, right?" As if on cue, the small dragon let out a deep growl from his belly that resonated throughout the room, giving everyone in the room the sensation of a small earthquake. Ruma could even feels her hand shaken to the bones.

"No way it's a pet dragon!!" Almost everyone realized at the same time.

"What should we do?! What should we do?!" Mako and Moki once again thrown into a panic, but their outburst was stopped by another belly growl from the dragon.

"For now, let's feed the dragon before its growl destroy my building." Ruma tried to keep her cool but she had this sudden urge to smoke, an old habit that she only do when she stressed out. The group got out of the basement and served a fish on top of a clay plate in front of the dragon.

"Are you sure this is the suitable food?" Goro the orc asked.

"Oh. shut up. I don't know either!" Shiha snapped.

"Mako, go out and change the sign to close. I don't want more chaos in my place when the knights come." Ruma was handling out order while she calmly smokes through her smoking pipe.

"Consider it done!" mako hastily ran outside.

"Une, didn't the doctor told you to stop smoking?" Moki asked Ruma, he was worrying about her lungs condition but Ruma just ignored his warning and keep smoking. Just for tonight, she said to him.

"Aaahh! the dragon ate the fish and the plate!"

"What kind of glutton is this?"

"Should we give it more fish or more plate?"

"Where is Mako? He took so long just to change the sign!"

The chaotic conversation was cut off when the front door was opened. A beaten up Mako was thrown onto the floor and two citadel knights entered the tavern.

"Our dragons smells something illegal here, and this boy was suspicious as hell." One of the bigger knight spoke. "So just give the hatchling to us and we will only take this boy. Man, this is such a sudden task that I haven't got enough sleep."

"Mako!"

"What are you doing to one of us!" Goro seemed ready to leap and swing his axe, but Ruma extended her arm to stop him.

"I'm sorry, but are you looking for this big rat?" Ruma showed the dragon to the knights, still wrapped in rag and still biting onto another fish. "If I give this to you would you leave us peacefully?"

"it's not a rat you-" The big knight was interupted by the smaller ones, this one knight was a high elf and looks no older than 20. You couldn't be sure about an elf's real age though.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we can't simply do that. We must capture the culprit too. So please, I ask for your cooperation."

"My, you are polite. I will try to help then."

"Thank you for your kind words. I believe any problem can be solved through words. Violence is unnecessary." The elf knight could heard the human knight next to him snorted, but he ignored the other knight. "Since the egg already hatched, may I ask, who is the first person who touched the egg?"

"It's me." Ruma answered.

"Who is the first person who touched the hatchling?"

"It's me."

"Who is the first person who feed the hatchling?"

"It's me."

"Ruma!" Shiha couldn't believe it, that last one was definitely a lie since she was the one who fed the dragon, but Ruma said her lie with such a straight face it would take an expert to know she was lying.

"Then tell me, what is the dragon's name?" Ruma and the elf was now staring intensively at each other, as if trying to bend the other's will by gaze alone.

"The name, huh? The name... It's Pyokko." Ruma was now panicking even though she still looks calm on the outside. Pyokko was just a random name she picked up during he panic. Like hell she knew the dragon's name! She heard something about dragons can communicate through some kind telepathy but the only thing that dragon told her was 'hungry'! She couldn't afford to let any of her junior got caught though, so she's trying her best to keep the knight's attention on her.

"Pyokko, huh. Allright, let's capture her. This case is just keep getting worse." Ruma didn't resist when the human knight hancuffed her and the elf picked up the wrapped dragon. The knights carried her outside and tied her on a feathery dragon. "Now then, please excuse us, and please forgive my partner for beating up the boy. Any last words, ma'am?"

"Shiha, don't tell Aram about this. Okay? i will try to solve this as fast as possible." That was Ruma's last words before the wind dragon took her into the sky.

 

[PhantomSamurai]

Uta made it home and once inside took the egg out of his jacket, it was even hotter now and looked as if it was starting to glow. He knew this was not a good situation he was in this egg was definitely gonna be sought after by the city guards, and if he was caught with it that would be it for good ol Uta. He was so busy being lost in his thoughts that he did not notice that his egg had started glowing brighter and hotter, suddenly he heard a commotion outside "well they are here sooner than I thought" he says standing up and stretching letting out a slight groan. He started towards the door when he noticed something unsual "huh..feels hotter in here" He says turning and looking at his egg, it was glowing bright red and orange now and emitting even more intense heat.

"Uhhhhh that's interesting" he says as cracks begin to to appear all over the egg "oh shit this isnt happening now what do I...." he starts but is interrupted by a loud explosion come from the egg. "Holy shit!" he yells diving to the floor as egg shrapnel flew in every direction, when the pieces stopped flying he looked up where the egg used to be was now a huge spot of scorched wood, egg shrapnel, and a newborn dragon. He stared at it in awe small red and black creature that was currently pacing back and forth on the table letting out growls and grunts smoke coming out of its nose. Uta stands up carefully brushing the debris and soot off his clothes "uhh hey there little fella so this must be confusing but uh i guess I'm like your mom now or something" he says smiling.

The dragon growled and shot a blast of flame at him, he yelled and jumped back the blast scorching his jacket, "ok not mom how about dad?" He says laughing nervously. Another blast that just narrowly misses him, "fun distant uncle who visits occasionally?" He says putting his hands up, another blast this one catching his jacket on fire. He starts hitting his jacket to put out the flames as the dragon stared at him grunting and growling ready for another go, "alright now you little fire demon from hell I found you and I hatched you so I'm responsible for your well being now you will show me some goddamn respect you hear me!!??" He shouts pointing at the dragon angrily. The dragon merely stared at Uta for a moment, he steadied himself for another fire blast. Instead the dragon vaulted off the table and starting clawing and biting at Uta aiming for any spot it could, "oh what the fuck you little fire demon get off owww" he shouts as the dragon keeps assaulting him.

He stumbles backwards out of his home trying to get the angry dragon baby off of him as it clawed and bit at him, he pulls it off momentarily yelling in triumph "what.now.you little pyscho" he says as the dragon blows smoke in his eyes and restarts its assault. He trips and falls to the ground still being attacked. "Son of a bitch that's its you are going in timeout ya damn demon" he shouts pulling a bag out of his jacket he quickly grabs the dragon and puts it in the bag as is claws, bites, snarls, and growls trying to get out. He suddenly feels the bag get warm and knows the dragon is trying to burn it's way out "ha good luck this bag is special its fire proof so burn all you want I ain't letting you out until you calm down" he shouts trying hard to keep ahold of the bag as the dragon thrashed around inside. He suddenly notices the sounds of a lot of heavy footsteps and looks up just in time to see someone he knew, Kit hauling ass by him "what in the ass..." Uta starts but then sees a ton of guards run by after him with a few dragons in pursue as well.

He stood up and brushed himself off with the hand not holding the dragon in bag "wonder what the hell Kit did this time, steal the pants off all the council members?" he says to himself chuckling. He heard more heavy footfalls and turned to see a group of guards that had apparently fallen behind the main chasers, "uh hey fellas I think you want to go that way after the cat guy" he says pointing in the direction everyone else went. They nodded and started to move when the dragon in the bag started growling and snarling again, "what's in the bag sir?" A guard asks him. "Uhhhh it's my pet...uhh...fish yeah it's a fish his name is Larry and hes a good boy" he says smiling but secretly scolding himself for telling such a stupid lie. "A fish...a fish out of water...in the bag?" The guard asks "uh yeah hes a land fish very unique" he responds as the bag suddenly bursts into flames with the dragon falling harmlessly to the ground.

The guards all look at him and he back at them "hey guys this is larry....tadaaaaaa" he says smiling wondering how he was gonna get out of this one. The dragon started biting at Utas feet still only focused on him when one of the guards spoke "not only are you a liar but you are also a thief, that dragon is property of the citadel and you are gonna have to come with us and be held accountable for your crimes now dont resist or we will beat you into submission" the guard says drawing his weapon. Utas smile faded when he saw the sword "that's a very bad idea I suggest you put it away" he says sternly now ignoring the fact that the dragon was biting through his boots.

The other guards drew as well slowly moving towards Uta and the dragon that was still trying to murder his feet. "I really wouldnt guys someone's gonna get hurt and it ain't gonna be me" he says eyeing the advancing guards, he knows what's coming next and wants the dragon out of harm's way "sorry about this bud" he says lifting the dragon up on his foot and flinging it away towards the corner of the street as soon as he did the closest guard lunged forward with his sword. Uta pivoted causing the guard to lose his balance and fall forward "amateur" he says landing a powerful chop to the back of the guards neck causing him to land on the ground unconscious. "Now since you attacked me I have no choice to fight back, you being guards I wont kill any of you but i am going to make you work for this and bleed for thia" he says readying himself in a fighting stance. The dragon having landed nearby watched scene closely intrigued by the events unfolding, the lead guard looked at the dragon then at Uta "you guys go secure the dragon the rest of you with me we are gonna teach this lowly lizard a lesson" he says moving forward with his weapon aimed at Uta. "You will not lay a hand on that dragon" he says lunging forward at the guards with surprising speed the guards stopped in surprise as Uta crashed into the group and begun unleashing a fury of attacks from both feet and fists knocking the guards on their butts.

"This is embarrassing men hes one fucking lizard get him" the lead guard says jumping up and running towards Uta, he swung his sword but Uta easily avoided it and launched a kick right into the mans abdomen that knocked the wind out of him before he did a backspin kick that connected with the guards chin sending he spiraling back. Uta landed back on his feet motioning for the other guards to come forward and attack before hearing the dragon growling and snarling, he noticed the other guards cornering his new rabid friend, the dragon growled and blew a blast of fire at one of the guards causing him to drop and roll around the ground trying to put himself out. The other guard gave the dragon a swift punch and kick causing it to growl in momentary pain, this caused Uta to feel enraged. He evaded the guards he was fighting and launched himself towards the ones trying to catch the.dragon.

He landed in between the guard and the dragon his eyes alight with rage, "big mistake" he says as the guard yells and attacks, Uta catches his arm in a tight grip his sharp nails digging into the mans armor leaving indents. He brings the mans arm down hard on his knee snapping the. One in half with a sickening crack, the guard screams in pain before Uta delivers a headbutt to the man knocking him out. The dragon no longer growling but instead looking up at Uta its head tilted, the remaining guards pull themselves together and notice their fallen comrades "give it up you fucking reptile you cant win you and that stupid dragon are coming with us" one says "yeah go fuck yourself with. Rusty mace you ass, no one is touching this fucking dragon unless they kill me first" he says guarding the dragon who still looked at him quizzically.

The guards yell and rush forward, Uta having had enough of this bullshit, reached into his jacket with both hands producing numerous throwing knives. He throws them all at once towards the approaching attackers each hitting their mark in non vital areas, this caused the group to stagger and fall trying to pull the knives out. "Who's next come on!!! I'll take on anyone who would hurt this dragon!!" He yells, he hears more footsteps and produces more knives from his jacket preparing for the next wave. However this time it was not foot soldiers but archers, they all stopped and raised their bows aiming at both him and the dragon, he could try and take them on but he knew the dragon could potentially be hurt, then he heard the sound of lound flapping wings "well shit this is over now" he says as a dragon appears overhead. He puts his hands up to surrender.

"Alright, alright, alright, I'll give up but no one touches the fucking dragon hes mine" he says as one of the guards he knifed came up behind him, "it's a girl you dumbass" he says before knocking Uta out. The dragon crawled over to Uta and tucked herself in his jacket growling and smoking at anyone who tried to take her out, "forget it just leave it for now get him out of here" someone says picking up a groggy Uta. "A girl?...well little fire demon that's a surprise....fire demon? Im gonna name you Honarri" he says before passing out. The newly named Honarri grunted dug into his jacket deeper.

 

[Turtelini]

"Get in there, you stinkin' orc thief!" An older Knight growled at her, as they shoved Grenga's still unconscious body into a cell. The landing was hard, uncontrolled and will definitely leave some bruises. While she lied there like a sack of potatoes, they locked her cell door and took care of her egg. It was still inside the magic net, fighting with all the power it had - but to no avail. The egg got locked into a smaller cage as well, and the net was simply thrown over it for protection. When the guards saw that it couldn't do anything about it, they left the room quickly.

Some time has passed before Grenga could open her eyes. At first she was only met with darkness, and fear took over her. Has she lost her ability to see?! This shock released a wave of adrenaline in her body, starting as a hole in her gut and spreading into all her limbs. She sat up straight looking around in panic, before she saw a tiny window letting some moonlight shimmer down into the cell. Relief took over and Grenga breathed out. Relax, everything is fine.

Except, it's not. How in the hell had so much happened in so little time? She really just wanted to completate about her life, and now she is locked somewhere, without anyone knowing about it. That's when she realized something crucial. She is alone. Like, not "Oh my friends aren't here" alone, no. She is "No one knows my position, including myself, and no one will be able to find it out" lonely. Wait, maybe she shouldn't jump to conclusions this early.

Grenga stood up, and with her calm coming back and the adrenaline dying down, her body started to hurt. Especially her head was full of pulsating pain, those bastards. As if she would have even tried to resist against the guard. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, she is here now and has to get out somehow.

That's when she started to take in more of her surroundings, and noticed the egg on the other side of the room. It seemed to have stopped its struggle, it lied there on the ground, seemingly defeated.

"Well, it seems we are in the same position here … egg." Grenga mumbled into its direction. Suddenly a name popped up in her mind: Felavon.

Did … did the egg, or well, Felavon, just give me it's name? An answer came straight up into Grenga's mind. Yes, it's the dragons name.

"Wait you are a /dragon egg/?" THAT is a game changer. Grenga has only seen dragons from far away, if the smog would even give her a chance to see further than the rooftops. It always seemed more like a story, something you would tell children when they can't sleep, even when Grenga has seen some from afar. But knowing that one of those mysterious and powerful beings was right in front of her, still in their egg?

A feeling of impatience washed over Grenga.

"I, uh, I - okay, I think I understand?" Her interpretation was "Get us out of here!", but she wasn't entirely sure how to form a single mix of emotions into a whole statement. Another emotion-wave of accomplishment seemed to tell her that she got it right.

"Well, fine. Let me think for a moment." Grenga walked circles in her cell, trying to take in as many details as possible. Sounds easier than it actually is, as Grenga's eyes aren't the best. As soon as she thought about that, the cell got brighter. A guard must have walked in with a torch! She turned around, expecting a knight ready to take her to wherever they take thieves - but there was only a torch, levitating in the air without a guard holding it.

Her eyes immediately jumped to Felavon, who floated inside their cage peacefully. Grenga wasn't alone, they both were in here against their will. Nodding into Felavon's direction, Grenga turned around again and inspected her cell again.

"By the gods…" Escaped her mouth. The floor was covered in bones in various lengths and forms.

This escape might turn out harder than expected.

 

[Fable]

Each crackling sound that came from the egg increased Eira's step towards the Citadel. She didn't want the trouble nor the misunderstanding of how she came across this egg. She didn't want to run because running would make anyone look guilty, even if she were running towards the Knights to return what they had apparently lost. She was half-way there when the egg shuddered and suddenly decreased in temperature so much that the water vapor around it condensed. It grew colder and colder by the second and the ice-like eggshell cracked even more.

The shell continued to crack in a familiar spiderweb like pattern like when someone walked on water that wasn't entirely frozen. The next moment the shell shattered into thousands of icy pieces. It wasn't violent of explosive, it was almost like the egg had turned to a snowy glitter. What was left in her two cupped hands that had been holding the egg was a shimmering iridescent baby dragon that was simply and calmly sitting in her hands looking her over.

All she could do was blink as she processed the fact that she'd failed to get the egg to the Citadel before it hatched, which made her problem that much more troublesome. That seemed to have agitated the baby dragon as it huffed out cold air into her face and seemed very offended by her thoughts. After it huffed it proudly sat up straight and introduced itself formally. His name, what type of dragon he was, and then the shocking comment she was his rider.

"W-Wait a moment," Eira argued openly. "I can't be your rider. There is a process to that sort of thing. If you had waited a bit longer before hatchi-"

She was cut off as the dragon named Boreas chirped at her noisily arguing back that she was indeed his rider and there was no changing that fact. Thus caused her to sigh in defeat because from what she had heard of how Knights were chosen it seemed to align with it. It nodded in approval at her acceptance of her situation and then inquired for her name which she said out loud.

It wasn't long given the distance she was from the Citadel for the Knights themselves to make an appearance. Two air dragons and their riders quickly descended on Eira, but she didn't flee or give an expression of fear or shock. She had been seeking them out after all. Their 'greetings' were rather rude as they instantly accused her of theft. "If I was a thief why would I be here, bothering to try and bring what was lost back? Unfort-" Borea let out a chirp. "The egg hatched while I was on my way to the Citadel."

They still eyed her suspiciously and when one went to reach for Boreas he nipped their fingers and chilly air surrounded him. "Ice dragon, just perfect. We'll escort you to the Citadel then," the Knight commented unhappily. It was clear based on Boreas wrapping his tail around Eira's wrist and body language that he was not going to let them touch him or remove him from her person unless he wanted them to, or if they wanted to suffer horrible frostbite.

Eira mounted one of the dragons with Boreas still attached to her arm and wrist and let them take her the rest of the way to the Citadel where she was then led into a cell-like room for an interrogation.

 

[Diosa del Sopa]

Jorek burst through the door with violent force, flinging it back so forcefully that it bounced off of the stone inside and almost hit the Dwarf square in the jaw. His locked out arm saved him the pain of the door but didn't stop the bewilderment of what he saw inside. The egg he had left behind was no more; fragments of shell were thrown around the room, and the bed he had left it on had been blown apart from the center outwards, leaving a collage of wood splinters and eggshell across his room like some kind of unappreciated interpretive art. "What in the name of the Svartálfar's beards happened in here?" The man cautiously entered the room, casting his scrutinizing gaze across the scene as to find any sign of the cause or culprit.


He had expected many things: A hoodlum or a thief mixing together his more volatile materials, or perhaps a stray cherry bomb from someone upset with how much money By Hammer and Hand drew in. Jorek, however, had not expected the small, metallic head of a baby dragon to pop up from the tattered remains of his favorite quilt. The man froze in place for a few moments, trying to process exactly what he was seeing. A dragon hatchling and it was in his bed? Or, at least, what remained of it. The steel-gray eyes of the little creature turned to meet Jorek's, and a small moment of recognition flashed between them. Jorek knew that this was the exact reason that he knew he had to stay, and that little dragonling knew that this man was the reason he had hatched.


Jorek's tensed shoulders relaxed, and the man-made his way over to the little beastling, kneeling before him and extending a warm hand so that the two may be more intimately introduced. "Pleasure to meet you, little one..." His voice, ordinarily rough and coarse as the stones of the mountains his people called home, dipped to a low coo that instead mimicked the streams that flowed from those same mountains. The dragon raised his snout to meet the hand, not embarrassed in the slightest as he began rubbing against the thickly calloused palms of Jorek, relishing in the warmth and smell of steel that emanated from them. A low, soft rumbling rose from the dragon's chest and funneled itself up and into the smith's hand. In response to the apparent sign of pleasure, Jorek turned his palm up and lowered his hand further. The dragonling took no time deciding and climbed up the offered side, scampering up the man's arm and coiling loosely around the breadth of his broad shoulders. Jorek let out a low, thunderous chuckle to match the rumbling of his new friend and gave the wee little thing a firm pat atop of its head.


The Dwarf crossed the room and gathered the singular chair from his desk, brushed the fragments of shell, and birch from the seat, and slid down onto the worn-smooth surface of the chair. "What's your name?" His question came forth quickly, as it might with an old friend or lover. Despite having only known the beast for a few, scant minutes, there was a deep connection between them already; the kind one feels after decades of truly knowing someone. A thought that wasn't his own wormed its way into his mind. Nidhöggr. That was his name. Jorek nodded, quickly adjusting to the feeling of another's words in his head. "Nidhöggr. A good name, strong."


The little pup around his neck let out an appreciative chirp. "And what kind of dragon are you, little Nidhöggr?" This time, the thought drifted in with ease, like a cold breeze when a door first opens. He was a metal dragon, which Nidhöggr kindly informed him meant his scales were made of a metal that naturally grew from his body. Jorek's thoughts drifted to the smiths of the mountains that could reportedly forge with these scales, but he quickly filed those thoughts away as he returned to the conversation at hand. "A dragon made of metal... Aye, that'll do." He gave a smile to the little creature.


"Say, ya must be hungry. Must've been no small effort to get out of that egg." Another chirp, this one excited to match the repeated phrase, "yes, please," that was echoing in his head. "Ye' alright, alright. No need ta shout." He rose from his chair and made for his cupboard. From within, he drew a few pieces of salted beef that he kept wrapped in dry hemp and placed them on the counter, working at the loose knots. As soon as the cloth fell free, Nidhöggr dove into the meal with a fervor, tearing pieces free with his rows of wickedly sharp teeth. Jorek let out a low, impressed whistle and leaned on the small kitchenette beside his feasting charge. He slipped into his thoughts; Jorek had heard from his customers within the Knights that dragons only hatched when they met the right rider, never before that event. His brow furrowed slightly as he contemplated the ramifications of that reality. The Cathedral Knights would surely come for the hatchling, but what would happen when they found it awake and well, wrapped around a blacksmith's neck? As if on cue, the sound of a gauntleted fist slamming into his door rang out through his home. A stern grimaced formed on the Dwarf's face. "C'mere, Nidhöggr. We've guests."


The dragon scaled the well-muscled arms of his master and coiled around his neck once more. "Whatever happens with these fellows, I'll keep ye safe. Don't ya worry, 'bout that." With all words that could be said, said, and all the rest sent through their heads, Jorek made for the door. He gripped the stout iron ring that served as the knob and pulled the door open, jaw set and shoulders squared. Whatever came of this, he would face it with his pride intact. "How may I help you, Sir Knight?" The Knight had opened his mouth to respond when the reality of the situation hit him in the face like a sack of bricks. The human Knight, one Jorek knew as Halidan, sighed deeply, "you very well know what I'm here for, Master Smith." The Knight's tired eyes hung on the visage of the hatchling as it stared at him with a challenging gaze. The Dwarf nodded firmly, "I do." Halidan, who had a job to do, regardless of his opinion on the person that it had to be done to, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and turned to give Jorek passage. "I'll need you to step outside."


Jorek did as he was asked, stepping through the passage and into the night air. The two Knights, Halidan and one whom he didn't recognize, followed closely behind him with hands upon blades. The Dwarf offered no resistance, but nor did he offer subservience. His stance was steady and measured, his shoulders swayed with the swagger of a sure man, and his eyes were steady as he stopped and rounded on the Knights. "You're to take me to the keep, I assume?" Jorek asked, his voice almost booming through the otherwise quiet street. Halidan responded first, "yes. Are you going to come along without a fight, or will I have to bring my own dragon into this?" The recognition of a Dragon Riding Cathedral Knight insinuating that Nidhöggr was, in fact, his dragon, had both a calming and anxiety-inducing effect on Jorek. On one hand, Nidhöggr was his; his friend and companion. On the other, what would happen when the Council found out that someone who wasn't one of their Knights held the natural rights to a dragon hatchling. A chill ran up his spine at the thought.


"No. I'll come along, Halidan, but I've something to request." The Dragon Knight didn't respond verbally, instead just raising an eyebrow in response. "Let the little one stay with me, at least for now." The Knight appeared to contemplate the request for a moment before nodding silently. Halidan's eyes turned up and left, eyeing a particular still spot in the smog. An air dragon descended from the spot, having obviously been lying silently in wait in case something had gone wrong. As the majestic air dragon touched down, so did a lightning dragon in all of its glory. The two Knights mounted, and Halidan offered Jorek a hand up, an offer that the Dwarf took and used to hoist himself up and onto the rear saddle of the dragon. He sent small, calming words to Nidhöggr, telling the pup that everything would be okay, that he would keep the two of them safe.


Even as they lifted up into the sky, he continued, trying with all of his heart to keep his friend calm despite the coming storm.

 

[honeylemon]

Yawning, Hollis rubbed the sleep out of their eyes. A gaze out the window confirmed their suspicions- they were getting accustomed to waking up at the crack of dawn. They blinked a few times before finally getting up, heading to the restroom to get ready for the day.

After splashing a fair amount of water on their face (freezing cold, of course), Hollis had enough sense to check on the egg. Just as they became able to view inside the basket, a blue, scaled head poked up, locking their eyes on the unprepared Elf. Oh no.

Stars above, give them strength. Hollis dragged their hands down their face. Why did it hatch so soon? They'd barely touched it- there was no reason for it to have broken out of its shell already. Wait. Wasn't there a thing about the Knights being able to track down hatchlings.

And isn't stealing a dragon egg a major offense? That probably won't sit well with the Knights, unless...

Quickly gearing up to leave the building for the day, Hollis took a few minutes to decide what to do with the dragon hatchling. If they were caught with the hat- Wait, it should have a name- Where did that idea come from?

Shifting their attention to the dragon in their hands, Hollis furrowed their eyebrows. Is it the dragon that's giving them these ideas? A... apparently. Okay then, what should the dragon be called? Does it- do they have a name in mind? It wanted Hollis to pick its name?

Right. They- He? Okay. How does Xandri- no? Hmmm, how about Lirzong- too fancy? Yeah, that makes sense. Hmm... How about something going off Pio? Wait, he wants "sass" in there somewhere? Piosass? No, that just sounds stupid. Piosiss, Piosess, Piososs, Piosuss, Piosyss... The last one? Piosyss? The one before it? Piosuss? Alright.

Sighing, Hollis set the newly named Piosuss in the innermost pocket of their messenger bag. They quickly put a few more items in, much to the mental compla- Oh. That- that's bad. Don't dragons only form mental bonds wi-with their riders? Nonononono- Hollis wasn't meant to be a rider- just a, just another citizen of the Citadel, not someone important like a Dragon Rider.

Snap out of it? Well yeah, that's easy enough, but there are consequences! But for now... what are they meant to do? Get found and arrested?

"If you turn me in, we both get put under lock and key. If you don't, however, the consequences are likely worse."

Yeah, definitely needed the reminder. Thanks, Pio.

Alright then. Seems the decision has been made, huh.

Slipping on their traveling boots and cloak, Hollis left their home. Pio had enough sense to stay hidden- not even his tail could be seen. Soon enough, though. Soon enough.

After a bit more traveling than would be normal, Hollis found themself just a few feet away from one of the Knights. Just those few feet, some words, and they could be home free! Hopefully. Possibly. Maybe.

"Hollis, snap out of it! We've made the decision, and we agreed. This should be for the best."

Yeah. Yeah this- this is for the best. It's the best they- they can do.

Taking those few final steps, Hollis stood in front of the Knight.

"Huh? What's the matter, uh..."

"Hollis, please. I um, I don't really know what the protocol for this is but, um-"

Before they could finish the tangent, the Knight's dragon- a hulking, flame-colored beast- poked Hollis's messenger bag with its nose. This brought the Knight's attention to the bag as well and- after what could be presumed to be a telepathic conversation- the Knight unsheathed their sword.

"Sir I was about to tell-"

"My apologies, Hollis. You are under arrest for possession of stolen goods." With this, the Knight whistled, likely calling for allies.

"Do what you will, Sir." Hollis raised their hands, doing their best to seem harmless. "I promise that I mean no ill will, to you or the Citadel."

This earned them a gruff hmph, just as two mighty earth dragons landed. Their Riders quickly slid off, walking over to Hollis and the other Knight. Each grabbed one of Hollis's arms after a brief explanation from the Knight. The Knight sighed and went back to his post, a tad dejectedly.

Hollis was sat in front of the taller of the riders- neither of whom spoke- and the other took Pio from Hollis. That- that's probably not good, right?

They only had a moment with this thought, however, as the dragons flew off. Away from anything Hollis knew.

 

[butterfly aubade]

A HIGH-PITCHED SHRIEK, FOLLOWED BY A FEW ANGRY CURSES, PROMPTLY ENDED Elyinara's sword-training session. The startled girl craned her neck around to see her mother, face purple with rage, as the tiny woman dragged what looked like a tiny Dragon behind her. "Elyinara," she began, her usually sweet southern Pixie drawl hardened to a bitter enunciation. "What in Hell's name were you thinking?" Before Ely had a chance to interrupt; to explain that she couldn't just leave something as precious as a Dragon egg out in the open, her mother cut her off. "Never mind. Clearly you didn't think when you made the decision. Honestly, girl. You've got a good head between your two shoulders, if you don't put it to good use it'll rust like your father's stupid inventions."

With a sarcastic roll of her eyes, the young Pixie braced herself for the incoming lecture she knew she was going to receive. "Stop making irrational decisions!" , "Do you have a brain?", "One of these days your brash behaviour is going to get yourself killed. Or worry me to death." Blah, blah. Very repetitive, boring stuff. Besides, Ely didn't think taking a Dragon egg that was literally found abandoned in the middle of the woods seemed like the wrong decision. Maybe it wasn't the smartest choice, but she'd been tired and there'd been no sign of ownership over the egg.

"Look, I found it last night, okay?" she said, once her mother had stopped to take a breather. "It was abandoned. Nothing was there. No clues about who owned it. Nada. Zero. Zilch! Besides. What's the worse that could happen? The Citadel Knights come knocking at our door themselves and throw me in jail?" Although Elyinara knew the Dragon egg more than likely came from them, the Knights were figures more legend than fact in the Pixie realm. Surely they wouldn't bother detaining someone with her status?

"Whatever the future repercussions are, one thing's for sure," her mother said haughtily. "You're going to fix the damage done to Lady Sumire's dress this rascal," the elder Pixie paused here to give the hatchling an accusatory glare, "caused." Without another word, the angered woman threw a charred piece of cloth at Ely's feet before promptly leaving the scene in a huff.

Blinking, the young girl picked up the remnants of a long night's work. They had been the ruffles her and her mother had stayed up all night sewing. Closer examination proved that the cloth was unsalvageable (much to her dismay), pulling a tired sigh from her lips. It was only when an indignant squeak came from down below did the fatigue fogging her mind completely clear. Startled, she looked down in a brief moment of confusion before locating the source of the noise.

It was none other than the troublemaker herself.

"Himself, actually," the hatchling chimed in with a happy hum. "My name's Ithaca. Sorry about ruining those purple ribbons. They just looked so beautiful and I got excited. When I get excited, I can't help myself you see. I've just got so much energy and it's a chore to keep it all reeled in, so-"

"For goodness sake, stop!" Elyinara yelled, her tiny hands flying to cover up her ears from the non-stop yammering. She could feel a headache coming on. A tense moment passed, in which the Pixie drew in a couple deep breaths before speaking up once more. "I think," she began, slowly. "You definitely should not be here."

"Indeed."

The strange voice caused panic to lance through the girl, her hands flying to the sword strapped at her hip. A dark, hooded figure strode towards her from across the room. Behind her, her parents looked onward, their faces giving away nothing but a weary expression.

"Elyinara, I presume?" the figure said, a charming smile across his lips. "My name's Ezekiel," he continued before she had a chance to answer. "I'm here to escort you to the Citadel, where we're going to have a one-on-one chat about the, uh, Dragon complication that's been presented. Now, we can do this the hard way, or the easy way, but frankly it is punishable by beheading to ignore-"

"I'll go," she said, cutting him off. Offering both hands in surrender, the Pixie drew her sword in a deliberate motion, before letting it clatter to the ground. "Do whatever you'd like." She was confused, tired and too weary to fight. And she had nothing to hide. What was the worst thing that could happen?

She, of course, immediately regretted her actions when the Knight named Ezekiel grinned, showcasing rows of gleaming sharp teeth. "Excellent."

 

[Lekiel]

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Ami`thalea
Wightwillow Grove, Middling Stacks
Twilight​

Wolves a' howling into the night,
The Moon - her face - all red - and shy,

The nightbird had just begun its heralding chirp, both a farewell to Anara's radiance descending over the horizon and welcoming the rise of Elura's silvery light. A chilling breath of wind rustled at the tips of the surrounding pines and willows, accompanied by the haunting voice of a solivagant wanderer flitting like an ephemeral shade through the lengthening shadows.

Hasten your steps, swiftly and light,
Lo the fog, hear the Worduken's cry.

The undergrowth was lush and verdant clinging to the lone wanderer as she drifted amidst the trees. An errant observer might've noticed the branches and bushes reaching out, clinging onto the figure's trailing raiment almost as if they longed for that minute touch. The figure strode with a measured tread, effortless and fluid. Slow and blithe, as if not a thing in the world could falter her deliberate step.

Crush them flowers,
Still doth it rises,
No not fire,
But cold... cold ice!

And as the rhyme ended, Anara's final glorious radiance slipped past the edge, plunging the forests into the darkness of a young night. The figure stood still. So still that she could've easily been mistaken for just one of the many lush trees that decorated the forest garden. Her head was tilted at a small angle upwards, though the dark hid her features. Perhaps, she was listening to something only she could hear? Or maybe she was simply languishing in the moment.

"Brrr... can you not sing that again??" A tiny voice suddenly cut through the tranquil silence of the forest.

Two faint glimmers of olive green lit up like fireflies as Ami`thalea opened her eyes. They were hardly dazzling like that of the rest of her kind, instead, they gleamed a quiet subdued glow. Like a lost glass bead in the undergrowth, teasing the seeker with elusive glints.

"And why not dear Kindle? I like it... tis' an apt warning." The woodling spoke after a moment, her voice a rich alto timbre. A small quiver rustled the leaves of her hair as a tiny creature with large moth-like wings poked its head out to glance at her companion.

"Because it sounds so dark and creepy!! Reminds me of the one time I found myself staring up a Shadow Dragon's arse!" Kindle pouted, finally extricating herself from Ami`thalea's cascading locks of vines, twigs, leaves and actual hair. The pixie plopped herself down on the Woodling's shoulder.

"I didn't know their behinds were that menacing..." Ami`thalea replied in genuine wonder.

"You don't want to know..." The pixie rubbed at her shoulders as though shivering. "What're yew lewking at?" Kindle perked up, suddenly in a playful mood. The tiny pixie glanced at Ami`thalea's face before turning in the direction of her gaze. Seeing nothing significant, the teeny humanoid made an exasperated face and looked away.

"No, look again. See it?" Ami`thalea spoke, somehow knowing that Kindle had looked away without even breaking her gaze.

"Wha-- oh!!"

Right above them, in slowly brightening pellucid blooms of Tyrian purple were flowers that had begun to unfurl their delicate petals. Easily half the size of Kindle, they blossomed by the scores as the pale silvery moonlight kissed their fragile faces. It was a sight to behold, the flowering of Moonglimmers under the full moon of that particular night. They'd never blossom more than once annually, and sometimes they'd forget the season and miss a year or two or more; especially if one did not know how to mind the ancient trees. It was Kindle's first time, since coming to Wightwillow Grove. And one hell of a first time it was!

The pixie let out an excited squeal and fluttered her wings in haste. Darting up into the purple hazed air and sniffing the speckles of amethyst pollen. Kindle weaved in and out of the glowing branches, her uncontained laughter adorning the pleasant evening with purest mirth. Ami`thalea watched the fairy from down below, her face inscrutable with no hint of emotion except for the distant look in her olive-greens. Then a smile broke on her lips.

"Come Kindle, tarry no longer! We must gather them before the hour ends."

✤ ✤ ✤​

"Oh oh, what a haul! Ami`thalea, hey! H-How many dresses can you make with these?!" Kindle was blabbering, giddy with excitement as she fluttered about the druid's head. A trail of Tyrian Moonglimmers tied to a cord around her waist made it look like she was some kind of magical serpent streaking through the air. A basket hung on the back of the woodling, made with curled vines, they contained their purple Moonglimmer harvest for the night.

"One, maybe two... but tis' not I who will sew the garments. I only thread them into Moonweave--"

"Two!? That's riddiculous--"

"Woodling sized Kindle, not pixie sized..."

"Could you make me one?? Pleeeease? As the Chief Steward of Wightwillow Glade I think I deserve a uniform of my own."

"There is no Chief Steward of Wightwillow Glade."

"Oh come on! There is nowww!"

"Hush little one."

"I mean you don't have to tell the others. I-I'll just say I found it! Dropped along the way by a passing caravan or-- or--"

"Be quiet Kindle!" Ami`thalea's voice was abruptly stern.

"Oh..! What is it??" The pixie immediately dropped her voice to a whisper. Her wide eyes peering into the darkness around them.

The druid was silent for a moment. Holding still. She'd felt something. Something had entered their abode. She angled her head for a moment, as if listening. Then without a word, she immediately took off with long sweeping strides.

"Ami`thalea wait!" Kindle begged, now very much afraid so she fluttered her wings as fast as she could to catch up.

As guardian of their little section of the vast forest, the druid could tell when something out of the ordinary had breached the invisible barrier that surrounded their lands. Such trespassers were rare and usually did not set off the internal alarms such as they did now. The woodling breezed through the forest, her striding legs almost appeared to be gliding across the damp forest floor. The druid was no acrobat or even a dextrous bestia. But out in the forests, especially in a land she knew all too well, the speeds at which she covered ground looked magical. Such was the ways of a Pathfinder. Ami`thalea followed the trail until she approached a little pond shrouded all around by large ferns and thick shrubbery. Her strides slowed and she reached forward to push aside the obscuring plants. Seeing the woodling's wary stance, even the bubbly pixie was uncharacteristically quiet.

Whatever it was, it's presence was large.

Progress was slow but deliberate, and it felt like forever before they found themselves close. With only a final curtain of flora in the way, Ami`thalea beckoned with outstretched hands and the last few ferns bowed, revealing the intruder.

"Blessed Elura... what is that?!"

"I do not know little one..." Ami`thalea found herself whispering. Her heart pounded in her chest, and all she could hear was the steady beat filling her ears. Before them, half-submerged on the shores of the pond was a peculiar gleaming oval rock. It was easily the size of a large pumpkin and it glowed as bright as, if not brighter than the Torch Mushshrooms back in her den. Its surface was nearly smooth, except for rivulets of shimmering gold that ran in jagged lines or cracks all around its pearlescent surface. The glowing light seemed to come from within and as the odd duo approached, it began to pulse. A low hum, the kind that was loud enough to be noticeable in the backdrop, filled their ears. The pulsing light looked organic, like the steady beat of a heart... heart... With sudden realization, Ami`thalea realized that the pulses mirror that which she heard in her ears! It was beating in perfect rhythm to her blood muscle.

A coincidence perhaps? The dismissive thought crossed her mind, though something told her it wasn't. She didn't know how she knew. It was mesmerizing and amidst the dark of night, the pulsing orange-white light filled her with a kind of warmth. It reminded her of the caress of a warm spring sun. Not scorching, but with enough heat to fill the heart. It drew her in like a moth to flame.

"Ami`thalea! What're you doing!?" She heard Kindle hissing, helpless as she watched her guardian draw inexorably closer and closer to the pulsing rock. A clawed hand, like the branches of a tree, reached forth and touched the rock.

"Life!" Ami`thalea gasped, her breath catching in her throat as she uttered the first thing that came to mind. Her hand was quickly drawn back as if scalded.

It was alive! There was no doubt this was an egg now.

Her touch seemed to have catalyzed something as the pulsing egg glowed ever brighter and the pulses more frequent.

"What's happening... what did you do Thalea?!" Kindle whined, trying to shield her eyes from the blazing orb. And indeed the egg had begun to glow with a dazzling radiance, as though it were the heart of Anara. Even Ami`thalea was forced to take a step back, peeking out from between the gaps of her fingers, trying to see what was happening despite the overwhelming light. Then just when she thought it couldn't get any brighter, there was an audible crack followed by what sounded like a watery pop. Like the sudden release of a mass of fireflies under a giant glass cup, the golden radiance abruptly began flickering upwards. They cascaded into the skies, rapidly breaking apart and drifting off like golden ashes until there was nothing left. No golden-white egg. Nothing else except for a--

"Dragon!" Both Ami`thalea and Kindle whispered in awe, as they gaped at the tiny slumbering beast. Its scales were a shimmer of polished and shined ivory, and two tiny horns like golden thorns bedecked the hatchling's crown.

✤ ✤ ✤​

The rest of the walk back was done in almost awed silence. The slumbering hatchling was tenderly clutched in the woodling's arms as the pixie hung over her shoulder to warily peek at the beast. A million and one questions flitted through Ami`thalea's mind, each screaming for attention. Not the least of which was what they would do with it and how did it get here. Nonetheless, she knew enough to know that they might be in some manner of trouble. It was pretty evident, at least to the druid, that the hatchling was no mere pet dragon. The extraordinary display that precursed the hatching told her as much. Having said that, the eggs of leviathan's didn't simply just turn up in the middle of the night. Something had happened to whatever or whoever had been keeping the egg, and whatever that something was, the druid couldn't help but feel that it might come knocking sooner rather than later.

They had just reached the outskirts of the little treehouse which they called home. Ami`thalea could see the flicker of candlelight through one of the windows. The rest of Kindle's family was probably still wide-awake awaiting their return. Entirely oblivious to what had transpired. Still, she did not feel like climbing the steps to her home yet, choosing instead to linger by the yard. Kindle didn't seem to be in a hurry either.

"Do you think it might be hungry?" The little pixie finally whispered. Ami`thalea glanced down at the hatchling in her arms. It gave a sleepy yawn as its eyes of gold opened for a scant moment before it drifted back to sleep.

"I don't know."

"Do you think it eats pixies?"

"I don't know..." As if on cue, the little dragon's head suddenly perked up causing Kindle to let out a little yelp and duck behind Ami`thalea's shoulder. The hatchling tilted its head curiously as if surveying its surroundings, curiously quite comfortable to be in the woodling's arms. Finally, it fixed her with its golden reptilian gaze and Ami`thalea was surprised to find a spark of intelligence in its eyes. Her own eyes widened as she held the gaze.

"D-Do you think we should g-give it a name..?"

The druid was quiet for a moment, before "Xian-Yu... her name is Xian-Yu--".

"How did--?"

"Hide, Kindle!" Ami`thalea could barely hiss in time before there was a swooping sound and large shadows passed by above. Ami`thalea cursed herself. She had been too entranced by the dragon she had not felt them coming. Despite the warning, Kindle did not budge from her spot. The surrounding trees ached and groaned, leaves rustled violently and some boughs even cracked and splintered as two large Air Dragons descended into the domain of the Forest Keeper. Their riders, knights in golden armor alighted with spears in hand and stepped towards Ami`thalea and her treehouse.

The Something had finally caught up to them.

"Ona amin lle me'a," Ami`thalea waved her hand in the air and suddenly, her abode was awash in luminescent blues and greens as various Torch Mushrooms flared into life.
TL: Lend me your light

The two knights paused guardedly as they were suddenly illuminated by the bioluminescent fungi, though their hesitation was only momentary and they resumed their march. They stopped about ten yards away from where the relatively tall woodling stood, making no move to hide the hatchling in her arms. To its credit, the Light Dragon fixed the two approaching knights with a guarded eye.

When they had stopped, Ami`thalea tilted her head and curtseyed in greeting to the Cathedral Knights. One of the knights crossed a gauntleted fist over his chest in return, though the other made no move of courtesy.

"What brings two knights of the Cathedral to my humble abode at an hour so late?" She inquired in even tones.

The polite knight made as if to speak but he was interrupted by his colleague. "On the authority of the Cathedral Knights, you are hereby placed under arrest for the theft of government property-".

"You mean this dragon?" Xian-Yu rose to her haunches as Ami`thalea lifted her to indicate her point. "I did not steal her, I simply found her on my evening walk. If you would like her back, you can have her." Xin-Yu looked at the druid at her declaration, somehow looking offended. Ami`thalea was about to shrug when she heard words 'spoken' in her head.

Are you out of your mind?

The druid stared blankly at the hatchling as if seeing it for the first time.

"Do not presume you can get off so easily woodling--" The rude knight was speaking again, causing Ami`thalea to bristle at his insolent words. However, he was cut off by his until now, silent colleague.

"Elberath wait... I... know this place." He took a few steps forward, but quickly put up a calming hand when he saw the woodling tense up. "Am... Ami`thalea... isn't it?" He suddenly asked.

"How do you know my name?" Ami`thalea returned deadpan.

The knight took off his helmet, revealing a high elf with platinum hair. A jagged scar ran across his cheek and over one sightless eye. "I am Sildorin, of House Velahr. You were... little when I came by.... about twenty years ago I think... I was harmed... injured. Still a lowly guardsman then. Elder Aera`nal took me in. Healed me... Where's she?" His eyes suddenly shone, hopeful.

Ami`thalea narrowed her eyes as she pondered the knight. She could not remember. Too young perhaps if what he had said was true. Without lowering her guard, Ami`thalea shifted slightly to indicate at the large Wightwillow tree that dominated the yard. "You're looking at her. I am the Gladekeeper now..."

"Oh..." Realization seemed to dawn upon the knight, as he stared at the large tree with its sweeping boughs. He let out a sigh and bowed his head in reverence. "My condolences..--"

"Thank you." The druid replied flatly, though she looked upon the knight in a slightly different light. She could sense his sincerity.

"It's been a long night Ami`thalea..." Sildorin began, seeing the woodling nodding in acknowledgement, he continued. To his credit, Elberath stood his ground and remained silent. "We lost a shipment of 'precious cargo' earlier and have been in the process of retrieving it. We have managed to retrieve most of them... but quite a few of those who found them were somewhat unwilling to give it up..."

"No need to mince words Sildorin, you're wasting your breath," Elberath spoke up, in turn he received a scathing glare from the druid. Sildorin shook his head and resumed his exposition.

"We did our best, but some of our men were harmed. Plus we do not yet know the full extent of what happened, so it is difficult to know who is a true suspect, and who isn't..." He looked at Ami`thalea, his eyes imploring. "And I can't help but notice your... proximity to that hatchling. You mentioned that it was a 'she', tell me... what is her name?"

Ami`thalea instinctively tucked the dragon tighter to her as she worked her jaw, wondering if she should answer even if she had no idea why she knew the answer.

"Xian-Yu."

Sildorin looked at the druid for a span of a couple of seconds. Then he ran a calloused hand over his face and let out a sigh. "I am sorry Ami`thalea... you really must come with us now. Don't worry, I'll give you time to get prepared."

This had all been so sudden. But with her back to the enfolding presence of her erstwhile guardian the druid could not help but feel like this was the start of something greater than she had ever been part of. Something a younger Ami`thalea had always wished for but buried deep into the depths of her heart when life happened. It irked her that it had to start at such an inconvenience, but as a wise old woodling had once said, the most memorable things in life often came at the most unexpected of times. And if it turned out to be nothing, the glades will always be her home.

"Give me a moment..." Her olive-greens shone as she nodded towards Sildorin, who in turn offered a quick smile of thanks before turning on his heel and heading back to sit astride his dragon. Elberath lingered just a moment longer before he also turned back to wait by his dragon.

"Ami`thalea...?"

She glanced down at her little friend, a rare smile gracing the woodling's lips. "What was it you said you were?"

"That's Chief Steward Kindle at your service dear Keeper." The pixie announced delightedly.

"Very well, Chief Steward Kindle... please watch over my home until I return. I expect everything to be as it is, you hear me?" Ami`thalea couldn't help but let out a tinkling of mirth at the overly wide grin on the pixie's face.

"It most certainly will Ami`thalea... it most certainly will."

 

[Novafire]

Qoxo


Qoxo swung there by her tail, her eyes watching the shadow covered egg that she held at her side. What in the world was this? Its shell was smooth as glass underneath it’s shadowy veil, tendrils of darkness enveloping her hand, wrapping around her fingers with a semi-solid grip. Warmth seemed to seep steadily from its surface, but this felt much different than the type of warmth that radiated from a hearth. She’d never seen anything like this in her life. In all the years she spent in the various markets, not once had she ever seen an egg this big; or this shadowy. Head pounding, she dangled upside down trying to swing her body upwards. With one hand cradling the egg, it was difficult to do anything more than wiggle in mid-air feebly.

Staring straight down at the street, Qoxo knew she wouldn’t be able to stick the landing. She could spy the broken bodies of the thugs who had accosted her prior to the fall.

She’d at best, probably break both her legs from this height. Her mana was spent, the shadow magic she had used leaving her with only enough magic for maybe one or two more spells. Levitation magic wasn’t her thing, so letting go and simply floating down wasn’t going to do the trick. Feeling a sharp pain in her cracked horn, Qoxo groaned loudly, trying to use all the strength she had to pull herself up. The pressure of all the blood rushing to her head was making her freshly cracked horn throb. Letting out a defeated sigh, she was sure she was just going to have to drop and hope she didn’t land on her head. The younger Wyx turning her attention back to it’s shadowy form. She could have sworn she had just felt something weird there. It wasn’t a wiggle, wasn’t a twitch, no… it just felt like a heartbeat. Every steady beat Qoxo felt like her head was spinning, her eyes squinting as a rush of various emotions hit her like a train. The shock almost made her lose her grip on the egg itself. She bit her lip and pulled it closer into herself, her eyes watching it intently for any change.

Another beat... There it was again! Qoxo watched as the shadow swept egg gave off a faint crimson light at every beat, the wisps flicking across its surface. Warmth washed over her, like the happy content feeling she got sipping tea after a long day, watching the fae flit through the trees of the Middle Stack after a successful day of gambling. What feeling was this? She’d never experienced anything so strong and primal in her life. All she knew was that she had to protect whatever this thing was. She could practically feel the magic energy inside of it, ebbing and flowing just beneath the glass surface of the shell.

Then as suddenly as this feeling came it quickly drained away to a pitted feeling in her stomach. The faint crimson light in the center of the egg pulsed at a slightly higher rate, the dark tendrils that drifted around it clutching against the surface of her side and hand; squeezing against her. The heart rate like beating of the egg grew faster and faster; Qoxo felt her own heart rate pick up too, thudding wildly in rhythm with the egg. Panic welled inside her chest as a voice chimed behind her.

So focused on her newly found egg, she hadn’t even heard the footsteps above her. Feeling a hand grasp the back of her belt she let out a startled yell.

Hoisted up to her feet, she whipped around as soon as her boots hit the metal of the stack. Hand grasping her staff she swiped it towards the figure that had pulled her up, not knowing whether or not this person was friend or foe. Not that it mattered. Every fiber in her body screamed to protect the egg at her side. Just barely missing the tips of this mystery Bestias’ ears, she prepared to strike again as he threw his hands up.

She let out a bit of a growl, her eyes narrowing while her tail whipped angrily back and forth. “ Tor R’Tvue…” she cursed out, calling him a rather nasty Wyx slur. He had scared the life out of her… and something about him seemed oddly familiar. She ducked her head down at the bellowing roar in the distance, her eyes widening at the sound of Earth dragons closing in. What in the world were they doing? Did this have something to do with the egg? Or was it this Bestias that lured them onwards? Then, a curious chirp from the shoulder of the cat-man made her ears twitch upwards. Qoxo was sure she had heard something just then, but as far as she could tell it was only the two of them; plus the increasingly closer Earth Dragon roars.

The latter seemed more and more likely, for just as quickly as he appeared the Bestias bid her farewell. He introduced himself as Ki’Tavi, Qoxo finally remembering where she knew him from. He was pretty well known amongst gamblers in the lower district. Though she didn’t spend much time in the lower stacks, she had played a game or two with this trickster of a Bestias.

Before she could call out back to him, he was gone, and the pounding of Earth claws was rapidly drawing closer.

Qoxo quickly looked down at the egg as it began to beat rapidly again, anxiety filling her. she stuffed the egg down into the pouch lining the inside of her shirt. Gathering herself as best as the exhausted Wyx could, she began making her way through the various Lower Stacks, careful to stick to the shadows as the sounds of various Dragons tearing through the night filled the area. As she turned the corner of a particularly narrow set of stacks, she found herself face to face with a sizable Earth dragon and its Rider.

Hot earthy air blew into her face, sending her beaded sweaty hair up into her spiraled horns. The dragon drew in a deep breath, it’s lips pulling back into a razor sharp snarl. Black and red eyes widened suddenly as the Rider drew his sword and stood atop his dragon’s back. “Halt! By the order of The Citadel, I order to surrender your weapons and empty your pockets!” The rider called out, pointing his sword down at the terrified Wyx. His thick human accent was commanding, Qoxo almost did as he asked by instinct alone.

But she didn’t. Instead all she could feel was the beating of her egg against her chest, in time with her own heart. Without thinking, the runic symbols that lined her body began to glow crimson, the egg nestled at her bosom mimicking the ominous glow before a pool of shadow formed beneath her feet; sucking her down into its depths. Feeling herself tumble through a second pool, she smacked down back first into the dirt and dust of the entrance to the forest.

Letting out a low moan, the Wyx turned to her side, pulling her top down ever so slightly to check on the egg. Its pulsating was still as steady as every, outpacing her own heart rate now. Relief filled Qoxo as it seemed the egg was unharmed. What in the world was going on tonight? She had had some weird nights for sure, but this had to have been the weirdest.

Slowly, she sat up. That was the last of her mana for sure, her body’s ability to keep up with all this magic use was rapidly decreasing. Every muscle ached as she used a tree to stand, one had laid upon the rough textured bark the other cradling the precious cargo against her chest. At least she had made it back to the Middle. Before her, a line of trees that stretched up high into a natural arch. Qoxo let out a It was a long twisting path back to her home within the dark forests. Luckily, it seemed as though the fae had migrated over her way illuminating the forest in a sea of twinkling blue and yellow.

Wings jingling like the tiny bells that children donned in the winter, they drifted with the currents of the wind like the stinging jellyfish that littered the bay.

Qoxo limped her way through the narrow paths. She knew this place like the back of her hand for the most part, her home nestled deep within the confines of the dark twisted evergreen labyrinth. Bioluminescent mushrooms scattered the floor, piling together at the base of the long gnarled roots that twisted their way across the path; lighting her way. Having grown up in the rough Dark and Lower Stacks, she never imagined living in a place as beautiful and quiet as this.

Climbing her way over a few fallen nurse logs, several saplings pushing their way through the nutrient dense wood, Qoxo squinted slightly. A small triangular glowing cabin nestled in a clearing of the trees; the smell of smoke and stew rising from a short chimney imbedded in the slopes roof. Behind it sat two other similar cabins, no sign of anyone having lived there in a very long time.

Her home.



Filled with relief, Qoxo staggered up the steps and pushed her way inside, her body finally giving out as she collapsed into her small abode in front of the hearth.

The sounds of a bubbling brew filled the room, creating a delectable savory scent of rabbit stew mixed with the multitudes of hanging bushels of herbs that were drying in the warm heat of her cabin. Every inch of Qoxo’s home was littered with various ingredients, recipes, and tomes; the walls packed with various jars of colorful tonics and teas.

Padding the floor was a large pelt, probably some sort of ox-skin by the look of it. She had just picked it up from some sleazy Pixie salesman in the lower. He claimed it was genuine, Qoxo didn’t really believe him. Sprawling out, Qoxo closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Reaching down into the pocket of her shirt, she carefully slid the smooth shadow covered egg out, holding it with both hands as she examined its curious surface. It had the smooth glass like feel of obsidian, her fingers finding several jagged cracks along it’s shell that she could have sworn had not been present prior. The sharp points of her nails traced the jagged edges, pausing has her hand was met with a sticky black goo-like substance.

“What the-?” she muttered, sitting upright and furrowing her brow. She pulled up one of her hands and pinched the tar like substance between her fingers, finding it difficult to pry her fingers apart again. She had never seen anything quite so strange. Off the top of her head, she couldn’t think of anything that laid an egg of this size other than the Scorch birds that came from Aurdor. Bringing her finger up to her nose, she gave it a few sniffs before touching it to her tongue. “Bleh!” Recoiling back, Qoxo scrunched up her face in disgust. It tasted both like charcoal and metal, with a hint of black licorice. She wiped the sticky goo from her hands onto the rug beneath her, feeling an overwhelming amount of happiness hit her like a punch to the gut. Qoxo began laughing, almost to the point of tears and breathlessness. She wasn’t sure where this was coming from, she couldn’t even remember ever laughing so hard in her life. Her hands picked up the egg, bringing it up to eye level infant of herself. However, her laughter quickly died down as through her fingertips she could feel the heartbeat-like pulsing from the egg had sped up to the point the egg nearly vibrated in her grasp. The shadows encasing it danced wildly around the eggshell, Qoxo quickly sensing there was something very off.

She set the egg down to the ground, backing up slowly as the darkness that surrounded the egg seemed to slither across the floor in all directions. The hearth died down to embers, its light sucked away as the entirity of Qoxo’s home was enveloped in darkness. The shadows that swirled grew wider and wider, a red haze crackling through the black smog. A bright red light forming in the center, flashing so fast the Wyx could barely keep her eyes focused on it.

Suddenly, the flashing slowed to a near stop, like the failing heart of a man. With a last feeble pulse, the room went silent for a moment before the crimson light returned, the large shadow that encased it collapsing inward before a loud CRACK exploded around the room. Jars shattered on the shelves, herbs scattering into the air, various liquids pooling at the bottom of her shack. The hearth flared back to life as Qoxo stood there frozen. Pure black pieces of shell littered the floor like shards of black glass. Remnants of the black swirling shadow still dancing across the center of the floor, a pool of the same sticky black substance covering the ox-pelt rug.

And then, a small squeak and two crimson eyes staring at her from the dark.

The shadow shifted slightly, two bat-like black wings outstretching belong the curtain of the darkness. The prominent clawed hands seated on the angle of it’s wings flexed outwards, reaching up high. A small black tail swished around, cracking like a miniature whip as it lashed through the shadow.

The remaining smog dispersing, an angular face stared up at the shell shocked Qoxo. Her ears pinned low she stood there, motionless while trying to process what had just happened.

A dragon.

The small black dragon cocked its head off to the side, unfurling its wings further, outstretching them up in a wide display. Well, wide for the dragon. A slick black tongue flashing in and out as it stared back at her. “O-oh…” she managed to stutter out, finding herself dropping to her knees. Her hands shook, reaching out ever so slowly towards the equally curious creature who extended its elongated neck towards the Wyx. Her ears twitching upwards, she couldn’t believe what was sitting in the middle of her home right now. She didn’t even care that much that half her things had just been exploded on.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you…” she whispered softly, bending down to the small pitch black creature’s level. it sniffed her outstretched hand, grasping onto one of her fingers with it’s claw like wings like an infant would with it’s mother. Heat filled her cheeks as an intense joy filled her, the Dragon opening it’s mouth wide; displaying rows and rose of needle like teeth. Qoxo smiled and pulled her hand closer to herself, the dragon still clutching on to one finger. Waddling closer it used its wings and front legs to pull itself into her lap. Tail coiling around her arm as she moved it down beneath the tiny beast, cradling it to her chest; Qoxo felt content was over her, the Dragon pulling its way up her chest. The fabric of her shirt pulled down just enough to reveal the gaping dragon’s maw marking that seated itself below her collar bone and neck.

Qoxo felt her stomach pit at the sudden realization. She was a Wyx. And this, she was pretty sure… was a Shadow Dragon.

Her mind trailed back to the time she spent in the Lower Stacks as a Wyx youngling, listening to Fytus describe her family and their history. As young Wyx are marked at birth with magic, the symbols that lined her body each told a story from times gone past. Unfulfilled lives often appeared as accents to others, while lives of great significance appeared larger, and more detailed. The dragon’s maw that parted on her chest was know as Zekial’s mark in her culture. Not many carried it, not many wanted too. Exposure to those outside of the community could potentially mean death at the hands of those who still held a grudge against the Scourge who plagued the lands 1400 years ago. Zekial rode a Great Dragon, the last one to make an appearance since before the humans came to Eileynn. That dragon, Norgath. His element had been Shadow as well.

“Oh.. Oh no…” she whispered out, her hands beginning to push the young dragon away. Was this really what destiny had planned for her? To follow in her cursed ancestor’s footsteps? The two grasping appendages on the young dragon’s wings reached up around her neck, the hard black scales of its belly and chest lowering down onto the symbol, obscuring it from her terrified gaze. A sense of reassurance flooded into her, a soft vibrating rumble emanating from the tiny dragon nestled against her. His gleaming red eyes seemed to brighten, the runes on her body returning the same hue. Qoxo bit her lip, and took a deep breath; feeling her anxiety wash away.

“You don’t think so apparently…” she breathed out, turning her head to look at the state of her home. “Well… you made quite the mess didn’t you?” she cooed out softly. “I don’t think that stain is coming out of that pelt.”. The black dragon’s snake like tongue flicked in response. Resting its head against her chest.

Standing up albeit a little shakily, Qoxo moved over to the hearth to check on the rabbit stew that had started to simmer yet again. She dipped one finger into the thick mixture and swirled it around before pulling it up and giving it a quick taste. The dragon quickly opened its eyes and let out a shrill screech towards the cauldron, Qoxo dipping her finger into the stew and pulling out another taste for her new companion. The slender black tongue ticked against her fingertip as it quickly lapped up the savory stew, letting out a happy sounding squeak.

“Oh you like that now do you... Malaphaes?” she asked the name coming to her out of the blue. Another shill squeal seemed to answer that question. Reaching up above the crackling hearth, the Wyx pulled down two small wooden bowls, dipping them down into the stew, hearty chunks of rabbit meat, potatoes, and carrots filling the majority of the bowl.

Plopping down she offered one bowl to Malaphaes who quickly released his grasp on Qoxo to scramble down to the ground. Bringing her own bowl up to her mouth, she loudly slurped the thick stew, feeling its warmth fill her belly. At the same time Malaphaes gobbled down a larger piece of meat, letting out happy grunts and squeaks at every piece. Qoxo couldn’t help but smile, feeling the same happiness fill her as well.

A knock at the door quickly dispelled this feeling however, Qoxo’s ears falling flat back. Malaphaes unfurling his wings into a semi-threatening semi-adorable display of power. Quickly scooping up the young dragon and shoving him into her shirt under the folds of her hood she accidentally kicked over one of the bowls of stew. Another loud knock pounded several times, more assertive in nature.

“Wh-Who is it?!” Qoxo called out anxiously, trying to pry the ox-pelt that had fused to the floor with the black goo that had been in the egg.

A smooth but commanding voice from the other side answered, “Citadel Knights! Open up!” he called, Qoxo’s eyes widening.

“Uh! One second! I’m just… getting dressed?” she lied terribly turning around in circles as she tried to think. She wouldn’t be able to use any magic as her mana was still spent. Half of her potions were shattered. All she could hope to do was lie her way out hopefully. But how as she supposed to lie with a mess like this? Malaphaes let out a low rumble, pressing himself to Qoxo’s chest just before the top of her roof exploded open.

A large electric blue and green head shoved its way through, electricity crackling around its maw as the door was kicked down. A Lightning Dragon… Its cobra like head and slitted eyes stared at her intensely, sharp snake like fangs dripping with a shocking saliva. Golden greaves clanked their way inside as Qoxo backed to the corner. “I was coming!” she protested, seeing the largest of her shelves containing ingredients ingredients tipped over against the hearth. Various herbs crackled in the heat, smoke in all sorts of colors and thickness rose up out of the roof of her ruined home. Walking around the room, he waved his hand towards the dragon who ceased building electricity in his mouth.

The Citadel Knight removed his helmet, revealing the angular face of a High Elf, a scowl plastered on his face. “Hand over the hatchling, Wyx.” he commanded, Qoxo shaking her head back and forth.

“W-what hatchling?” she tried to lie, Malaphaes’ head poking out from the hood with a rather ferocious little snarl.

The High Elf’s expression seemed to darken some as he looked from the small black dragon to the black tar covered floor, back up to Qoxo. She knew exactly what he was thinking. Even though he couldn’t see her runes, it was enough to see a Wyx with a Shadow Dragon. “Get on the floor. Now.” he said slowly, Qoxo shaking as she followed his order. Malaphaes moved through her shirt and out the back, snapping his jaws as the Knight attempted to remove the small dragon. Almost taking off a finger, Malaphaes curled tightly around the Wyx’s horns, hissing loudly.

Deciding it was more trouble by himself, the High Elf Knight restrained Qoxo carefully, Watched intensely by the feisty Malaphaes. Strapped down to the back of the Lightning Dragon. her crimson and black eyes watched as smoke enveloped her home, billowing up past the tall ancient trees. As the high Elf mounted his dragon, a high pitched shriek rang out from the house.

A large blast incinerated the area around her cabin, searing the edges of her clothes with its intense heat.

“This is exactly why I kept the Blastroot on the shelf at the opposite end of the house…” Qoxo muttered, the High Elf turning back to her with a sneer.

“Silence. You’ll answer to the High Council Hellspawn.” The Knight tapped the side of his dragons neck three times. “Fly Vais, we have work to do that doesn’t involve this lowlife.”

Qoxo had never flown before. And yes, though she was technically strapped to the back end and handcuffed, it was still invigorating. The feeling of the wind whipping against her with ever beat of the Lightning dragon Vais’ wings. The chilling sting of the wind. The glowing trees of the Middle Stack disappearing from sight as they ascended into the High Stacks. She hadn’t even seen the High Stacks before. Their marbled majesty extending upwards into large twisting pillars.

She’d never seen anything like it. She could even see the golden light of the Sky Stacks above, something she never expected to witness in her life. Suddenly she realized how small her life was limited to just the Low Stacks. Vais arched to the side sweeping down through the hollowed out middle of the High Stack, towards the Gilded Arches that stood infant of the Citadel Knight Headquarters.

Landing at the top of a marble staircase that stretched to the main streets below, the High Elf Knight, dragged Qoxo from the back of his Dragon, dropping the Wyx to the ground with a loud thud. Malaphaes let out a long steady growl as she was dragged by her horn through the Gilded Gates, Qoxo doing little to fight back so long as Malaphaes was safe, still exhausted from her mana output. He didn’t even think about taking her to a room for interrogation.



The High Elf dropped the Wyx at the bottom of a marble spiral staircase that descended down quite a ways, Qoxo aching as he hadn’t even bothered to let her try to walk down them. The High Elf banged his fist upon the door several times, waiting for what sounded to be an excessive amount of locks be undone. The large black door opened, revealing a long darkened hall lit only by the crackling torches that were spaced in between each cage. The smell of excrement and death filled her nostrils as a set of guards hoisting her up; walking her through the harrowed hall. She watched as she passed an Orc girl, imprisoned in one of the cells. A floating egg was tethered to a large table, struggling for freedom. Her eyes widened. What was going on? Where were all of these Dragons coming from?

Tossed inside an empty cell, Qoxo rolled herself upright, looking to Malaphaes as he nuzzled the underside of her jaw softly; the black dragon letting out a low soothing rumble. “I-It’s okay. W-we’re okay.” she whispered softly to Malaphaes who cocked his head. The Knight Guards left her cell open for a moment as she spoke to her dragon, walking over to a large crate that a few other Guards dragged in from another room. The guards returned, a large metal clamp reaching towards both Malaphaes and Qoxo.

Qoxo sat up fast and edged herself away, backing into the pile of waste and bones that collected along the wall’s edge. “Hey… Hey! What are you doing?! Get away!” she shouted, unable to wrap her arms around Malaphaes in defense. Malaphaes let out loud threatening shrieks flaring his wings up and swiping at the claw as it tried to grasp him. It took a few tries but the grasper managed to grab the young dragon around the neck. His Wing graspers dug into Qoxo as the two of them cried out. “Leave him alone!” she shouted. Malaphaes panicked screeching filling the hall as he was pried off of the Wyx girl. Malaphaes’ haunted screeching was ear splitting and desperate, calling out to his bonded Rider with a heart breaking caterwaul.

The screeches melded with Qoxo’s frantic screaming. “Stop! Stop, you’re hurting him!”. Pushing herself upright she quickly jumped to her feet, a burst of adrenaline rushing through her as she tried to ram into the guards, “Let him go!”.

Expecting this, a net with six bright blue rhinestones was tossed on top of her, a flash of blue light filling her cell as electricity stunned the wailing Wyx. Crying out in pain, Qoxo couldn’t move, pinned beneath the magic electrified netting. Tears flooded the Wyx’s cheeks, her eyes stinging as the runes wore off and she was left alone in the cell. Malaphaes’ emotions overwhelming her.

The guards that had snatched Malaphaes away swiftly moved out of the room as several more dressed in several different types of armor filed in after them. As a new prisoner was added to their ranks, the Citadel Knights with their specialized tools methodically ripped the hatchlings away, and transported them through the door.

As the last of the hatchlings were removed, the halls grew silent, the waning sounds of crying dragons falling into silence. Only a few torches remained in the darkened room, their flickering light casting dancing shadows along the wall. As daylight cast it’s light upon The Citadel, light trickled through cracks in the cell walls. No one came in or out of the dungeon, save to sling a few profanities at anyone making too much noise. The sound of chains clinking in the stairwells broke the silence finally.

Qoxo lifted her head, pounding as the toll from last night had ravedged her. All she could think about was the ear piercing cries of Malaphaes as they pried him from her. It felt as though someone had torn the soul from her body. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, the Wyx turning to face the wall in defeat.

 

[Diosa del Sopa]

Jorek endured the long ride to the top of the city in stoic silence. No words were uttered by the man, nor did his face shift from the visage of grim acceptance that had settle upon it almost as soon as they had left the ground. However, while he was outwardly silent, internally he was exploring the exact capabilities of his connection with his new companion; 'he who knows not his tools, knows not his trade,' as his father had once said. The Dwarf and his dragonling exchanged thoughts back and forth, swapping how they felt about the whole ordeal and practicing this method of communication so that it might be of more use later.

As the hours drifted on and on, and the duo became more and more acquainted, Jorek couldn't help but notice the absurdity of it all. Mere hours ago, he had been standing in his forge, working on swords that would one day be worn on the hips of the Cathedral Knights, and now he had a dragon hatchling wrapped around his neck and was off to meet some unknown fate. He wondered for a moment about what fate had in mind for him. All of this time going straight and here he was, once again, on the back of a dragon with prison ahead of him; had he done something wrong, perhaps displeased Jötungarrd or one of the other gods? Jorek knew not, and so he elected to let the thoughts drift away. Whatever came next, he had a responsibility to keep Nidhöggr safe, and that was all that mattered in this moment. Sighing, he turned himself back inwards towards his thoughts and idly watched as the various levels and peoples of the stacks drifted past him.

"Brace yourself, Master Smith," Jorek could barely hear the words over the whipping wind, but did as he was told, bending down slightly and bracing his hands on the dragon's back in order to prepare for the coming force of the landing. The dragon they were mounted on swung high above the courtyard that served as a landing space for the Knights and then drifted down to it with practiced ease. Jorek hardly had time to adjust to being on ground once more before Halidan was beckoning for him to dismount. Not wanting to dig an even deeper hole for himself, the man swung his leg up and over the horn of the rear saddle and hopped down, landing with a grunt. Dwarves hadn't been designed for such movements, and the shock that had traveled up Jorek's heels and into his spine took a moment to recover from. After a few seconds, the man rose to his full height, rotated his shoulders to loosen them from having held on to the dragon's back so tightly, and gave his escort a nod.

The unfamiliar Knight took up a position behind Jorek while Halidan took the front, leading them through an ornate set of carved doors that wore masterfully crafted engravings of dragons and their riders in the midst of a terrible battle. The Dwarf tried not to think of the possibility that Nidhöggr may be in a situation like that one day and simply followed, hand raised to stroke his companion's head as they went along. Nidhöggr's thought drifted into Jorek's mind; where were they being taken? Jorek simply shook his head, "I don't know, little one, but we've to go there either way."
He felt a sharp jab in the back from the overzealous rear guard, signalling that he wasn't to speak unless spoken to by one of the Knights Jorek accepted this, but made a mental note of what had happened. Who knew how the information may come in handy at some later time, at least, that was his rationale. In all honesty, he was clinging to whatever he could, in hopes that it may help him and Nidhöggr in some unforeseen way.

The trio rounded a corner and Halidan stopped halfway down the next hallway next to a particularly reinforced door. Jorek knew what that door meant and pulled Nidhöggr down from his neck and cradled him against his chest with one arm, hoping that they wouldn't take the little dragon away from him. Halidan turned and nodded to the second guard before opening the heavy door to reveal a descending staircase that had been hidden behind it; the steps were well-lit by a series of torches but were also well-worn from years upon years of use by the city's most dangerous of criminals. Jorek found it hard to believe that he was considered to be a part of that group once again, but he didn't question it as he followed Halidan down and into the abyss. Upon reaching the bottom, Halidan turned sharply to the left and began speaking with the jailer, giving a brief synopsis of the evening to the man before taking the offered key ring and choosing a double cell made for two people to put the Dward in to. Part of it was inconvenience as the space was near the jailer, but the other half was respect for the work Jorek had done for the Knights over the years. Simply wanting to keep his charge safe, the smith stepped into the cell and took a seat on the leftmost cot of the two that had been placed in this cell.

Upon sitting, he noticed the strange silence from Nidhöggr and could feel the anxiety coming off of the pup. A sullen feeling settled over Jorek as he realized that he couldn't do much to ease his friend's pain despite his wishes. Suddenly, an idea came to the man. "Would ya like to hear a song, little one?" The little dragon looked up to him and gave a nod of his tiny horned head. Jorek smiled as soothingly as he could muster and began to softly sing a song that his mother had shared with him when he was still a child, "The sky is dark and the hills are white, as the storm-king speeds from the north to-night." Nidhöggr settled down and laid his head on Jorek's chest to listen, his fear easing slightly. "And this is the song the storm-king sings, as over the world his cloak he flings: 'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep'; He rustles his wings and gruffly sings: 'Sleep, little one, sleep.'" Jorek's hand found the little dragon's side, stroking the pup gently as he moved into the next verse. "On yonder mountain-side a vine clings at the foot of a mother pine; The tree bends over the trembling thing, and only the vine can hear her sing: 'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep—What shall you fear when I am here?—Sleep, little one, sleep.'" A soft yawn slipped from Nidhöggr's mouth as the fear faded and was instead replaced by dreariness that the long night had brought on, Jorek shifted to lay down and rested the dragon across his chest, just below his beard. "The king may sing in his bitter flight, the tree may croon to the vine to-night, but the little snowflake at my breast liketh the song I sing the best—" Jorek slowed his strokes of the dragonling, such that the movement was barely perceptible as his little friend began to drift off to sleep, "sleep, sleep, little one, sleep; Weary thou art, a-next my heart—Sleep, little one, sleep." With a final, tiny shift of his head, Nidhöggr drifted away into the land of dreams, free of his cage, at least for a little while.

Jorek could not sleep, however. His heart turned with fear; fear that he may lose his shop, that he may be here for the rest of his life or executed, and fear that he may lose Nidhöggr. Fear was a harsh stimulant, forcing sleep away from Jorek's eyes and leaving nothing but hopeless desperation in its place.

 

[PhantomSamurai]

Utah awoke in a dark jail cell that smelled of mold and mildew it was a smell he wss all to familiar with, he was laying on the ground with his cheek against the floor. He groaned and slowly used his arms to push himself up, once up he looked around and noticed he was not alone there were others in the cells surrounding his but he could not tell who just yet. He walked over to the bars and started to feel them, he knocked on them a few times, they were still as solid as the last time he was in the jail. He suddenly remembered the baby dragon and started looking around frantically for it but she was no where in sight which means the guards took her.

He punched the wall and let out a string of curses, he knew he could pick the lock and escape, that part would be easy but finding Honarri would not be so easy and besides that he would likely encounter many guards along the way as he would have to scour the entire place. He knew he could take out a lot of guards but not all of them plus these guards were not evil people they were mostly decent people who were just doing their jobs to protect the city and provide for their families. He could not kill them for simply following orders, no he would have to wait this out and see what happened. Uta sat down against the wall and closed his eyes.

 

[Lekiel]

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Ami`thalea & Xian-Yu
Cathedral Knight Dungeons
Over a night​

"You would be able to sleep through anything. . . wouldn't you?"

Hands with elongated and pointed fingers like claws but rough as hardened bark caressed the pellucid scales with a gentleness that belied its appearance. A minute shiver shuddered through the small serpentine frame held closely to her chest as the hatchling slumbered, seemingly apathetic at the prospect of their destination. Powerful muscles powered them through the air, weightless as a feather. It was a whole new world for the woodling, having never had to experience any form of flight before. Her mind dizzied with bafflement at how such a large body could float through the skies with a grace that rivalled the flutter of dandelion seeds on a breezy spring. The bracing rush of wind as she rode on the back saddle behind the knight called Sildorin had swept away whatever vestiges of poise that had so often held her upright. Ami`thalea was used to the ground beneath her feet, firm and unyielding, the clouds not within reach.

Quite honestly, she was terrified.

But it was not so much an irrational innate fear, as it was the overwhelming barrage of new that barreled into her senses. A day ago she would never imagine having gone through what she had these few hours. Terrifying yes, but not wholly unwelcome.

She felt Xian-Yu stirring and tore her eyes away from the blur of rocky mountainside to look at her charge. She found a pair of golden irises staring at her, piercing in its intensity. And as before, the druid felt haplessly drawn in. As if a part of her soul was slowly escaping her mortal restraints and breaching the gap to meet in the space between. Back in the grove, she had a connection to almost every living creature that dwelled in her domain. So to feel connected to another living breathing entity was not something unaccustomed to. But the moment she beheld those golden orbs, she knew whatever they shared transcended all that she had ever experienced.

They'd only gained each other mere hours ago, yet the thought of having to be separated felt as daunting as willingly cutting her heart out onto a plate. Sildorin had been kind in that regard, perhaps in knowing what she would undoubtedly experience, having prepared her for what was to come.

A sudden hiss brought her reverie to an end and she blinked, realizing that Xian-Yu had chided her. She'd be alright, Xian-Yu that is. This were the Cathedral Knights afterall; for all their faults, still an admirable and honourable force. It'd be best if she worried about herself. Ami`thalea smiled, the third time on that night alone.

They'll be fine.

✤ ✤ ✤​

When they had landed, Sildorin wordlessly led them towards the dungeons with Elberath bringing up the rear. Ami`thalea was solemn with grim acceptance, her posture dignified as she stepped through the vaulted doors with precise steps. Keen ears detected the telltale drip of moisture from somewhere in the darkened cells, interspersed with the clink of chains and cries of protest as she stepped through the torchlit hallways. Wherever ambient light could filter through the thick stone walls and ceilings, a damp patch of moss grew and the sight of a little green set her pacing heart some measure of stillness. But it did little to quieten the anguished wails of the damned that seem to creep up from the dirt strewn floors. The druid felt it deep in her bones, just as she could feel the streams of life flowing through the groves back home, only this time it was black and slick as tar, bitter in sorrow and crushed hopes, a putrid sourness of the decayed and dying. It reviled her senses and churned her stomach, washing over her in a wave of nausea so much so that she dry heaved and nearly retched before she caught herself.

Coming to the bottom of a long flight of steps, their edges worn and broken with use, Sildorin came to a sudden halt before turning to speak with one of the guards. Ami`thalea stood still, watching the exchange out of the corner of her eyes for fear moving her head suddenly would cause a rush of bile out from her bowels. A key was passed over and the scarred high elf moved to stand beside an iron-clad door. But instead of inserting the key, he turned to face the woodling, a barely perceptible nod dipping his helmeted head.

It is time.

Xian-Yu shifted in her grasp but otherwise made no protest. The little dragon perked up to look Ami`thalea in her eyes in reassurance. But in spite of the hatchling's calm demeanour the woodling could feel an undercurrent of unrest. But they were better off parting now, while they were still able.

Handing over the little hatchling was immensely difficult and her arms were leaden with weight, but with gritted teeth, Ami`thalea managed. She turned quickly to look away, lest she become overwhelmed by despair. but she had looked long enough to see Elberath carry the hatchling away with some dignity. Closing her eyes, she took a few calming breaths before stepping towards the door.

Grim and austere, Sildorin unlatched the door allowing Ami`thalea to step into the bowels of darkness. The door clicked behind her with a surety.

The woodling allowed her eyes to adjust a moment, her olive irises gleaming softly in the shadows as she took a step and halted. Suddenly aware of another presence in the cell. In the dimness, she saw a dwarf lying in a cot and in his clutches a dragon. A spark of revelation dawned upon her as she saw a brief glimpse of the bigger picture. She obviously had never been imprisoned before, but the fact that she found another prisoner, one with a dragon still was surely no mere coincidence. She moved calmly, drifting over to the unoccupied cot and sat, eyes watching the other occupant with open curiosity. The separation from Xian-Yu though still fresh in her mind, could not deny her inquisitive tendencies.

"They thought you stole her too?" Her voice was soft as she tried to make it as unobtrusive as possible, in case the dwarf was asleep.

mentions: Diosa del Sopa

 

[Fable]

(Sorry for crap post, but not inspired or driven to write for it rn so just posting to post.)

Eira wasn't sure how long they pestered her and asked her the same questions over and over again regarding the dragon she had in her hands when they found her. They weren't so offensive as to proclaim they believed she had stolen it, but the vocal tone and attitude didn't exactly show they were bothering to be understanding of the situation either. Again and again she went through where she was, named people as witnesses to her whereabouts at what time, what time she left the party, where she found the egg, how she had been heading to the Citadel to try and return it and how it hatched on the way there just before the Knights arrived.

They had taken the dragonling - Boreas - from her before she'd been locked away and interrogated. The dragon had nipped and probably caused a bit of frostbite for their efforts in doing so, but Eira offered no resistance to them taking the baby dragon because doing so would make everything regarding this situation that much worse.

Once they were done trying to get her to slip up and find holes in her story - which they found none - they escorted her to a cell. This, this is what finally snapped her frigid temper as she turned with an icy stare at the guards with a raised brow. Her expression was clearly, "You are surely kidding?" How could they imprison her in such a place, this was beneath her social standing and treated her as if she was a criminal despite the truth of her story in that she had not stolen any egg.

Apparently such things didn't matter since the egg had hatched while in her possession. She wasn't even permitted to make a request for her family to be notified of her whereabouts, most likely because they knew it would cause unwanted attention if information got out about the egg. They couldn't keep her here for very long either because her vanishing would be noticed, because it always was even when she tried to make it a common habit to avoid social situations she didn't want to be in.

They didn't dare touch her, if they had she would have made sure they suffered for it. Eira gave them a few more dark looks promising retribution for her treatment before stepping into the cell with a frown and picking a corner to claim for herself wordlessly.

 

[Turtelini]

It was useless. The window is way too high and also too narrow for Grenga to fit through, the bars were stronger than herself, and the lock had a complicated mechanism built in that prevented lock picking. Not that she was particularly skilled at that, but she tried recreating what she saw her friends do when they have one of their “adventures”. Those “adventures”, as they call it, normally revolves around them breaking in into an abandoned building, drinking booze, playing card games and make fun of each other. Grenga never really was a fan, but she always joined them in hopes of protecting them from even more stupidity.

The Silver Fish was a group with a dozen of members, every single one is unique in their own way, whether it’s their skills, personality or appearance that made them special. Despite their differences, or rather exactly /because/ they were all so different, they always felt like family. Grenga was one of the more silent members, but she definitely was one of the more important ones. She herself would never admit that, but when she spoke, they listened. When she planned, they followed. Her decisions shaped the decisions of the family, and everyone was content with that. Somehow she has become the mother of the group.

But what is a mother without their children? Right, an orc unfairly imprisoned somewhere in the darkest dungeons of the city, with a dragon egg by her side. At least she wasn’t alone in this hell hole. After Grenga’s thorough search for some kind of escape, she has given up and just sat down against the cold, moist and mossy stone wall. She picked up a smaller bone, actively ignoring who it might have belonged to, and threw it through the bars at Felavon’s cage out of boredom. It bounced off the net and seemed to have drawn Felavon’s attention to it, because suddenly it started floating in the air. Grenga could sense their excitement, and a smile involuntarily took over her face. Then the bone started flying back at Grenga, and she caught it without effort.

“So you wanna play catch, huh?” She laughed and returned the bone, this time it didn’t even hit the floor before it came back. They played for some minutes, before suddenly the door to the cellar smashed open. Guards came in, dragging a body into the cell next to her. Before they even left, even more knights joined with even more prisoners, all of them getting thrown into their own respective cell. A little chirping caught Grenga’s attention. Then she saw it - more dragons. And they already hatched! Felavon’s reaction was exactly the same: a mixture of anger at the guards, fear of what is happening, confusion on why there are so many prisoners taken in, and excitement about the other dragons. Happy noises came from Felavon’s egg shell, a little muffled but still clear and loud enough for Grenga to hear through this commotion.

Lock after lock after lock was secured, tested and secured a second time. They really wanted to make sure they stayed in their cells, huh? But then something happened that Grenga did not think of. One by one, the knights took the dragons away from their prison. And just before they left, two of them lifted up Felavon’s cage.

A scream escaped Grenga. “No! Leave Felavon alone!” But they ignored her and just continued their way out the door. Pure anger, frustration, and her protective side woke up at once and Grenga jumped against the metal bars. “Don’t you dare hurting them!” She banged her fist against the bars several times, not acknowledging her bloody knuckles. Adrenaline was her fuel right now, and with the mixture of emotions that stormed inside Grenga, she attempted to grab two bars and bend them. At first it seemed like they were too strong, but after some seconds they gave in slightly. One inch …. two inches …. almost three. Then her body couldn’t do more, she was exhausted. Tears welling up in her eyes, Grenga sank to the floor.

“Felavon … We will see each other again …” At least she hoped for that.

Alone, and still in company, Grenga crawled back to her wall. It took her some time to calm down again, and as her adrenaline slowly faded away, pain took over. Her muscles burned in her right arm, her knuckles bled and started to swell a little. Wiping away her tears with her hand made her injuries hurt even more. She will remember this. They will pay for this.