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Fantasy Dragonfall



Tende altum, volare altius

Interest Check ~ Characters ~ Lore ~ OOC


Chapter one: “Here there be Dragons”

A letter came one day with the regular post, to the first keeps of the dragon slayers across Aerdra…

To the orders, those that remain…

The dragon threat is no longer among us, however I cannot be certain this will last.
There are strange happenings here in Brix: crops withering, monsters growing fiercer,
and I need not mention the shadow that has begun creeping across our moon.

These events may not have anything to do with the disappearance of the dragons,
but everything happened too quickly, too close together for me to believe they are unlinked.

I am asking you, those who remain, to travel to Brix, to the Dargoon keep at Seawatch point
for a last, combined effort to uncover the truth of what happened.
We will meet at the Dragon’s Head inn, a fortnight from the date on this letter.

To dragons’ end,

Dane, commander of the Brix Dragoons

To those that watch, those with eyes that only seem human. A copy of the letter is obtained, and then it is shared. To those high dragons in hiding, they know where the knights will gather...they know where to go...


The rain threw itself against the windows of the tavern. A proper ocean storm had settled in for the night, battering the little houses of Seawatch town. It soaked thatch and slicked stairways, sending rivulets diving out of the eavestroughs and cascading onto the cobbled streets below.
From the window, through the streams of water that came down over it, Leo could see the misty shadow of the keep, sitting alone high on the tip of the point. Only one, solitary light could be seen, coming from a high window. Probably Dob, their resident researcher, finishing the last of his preparations.

Leo remembered a time when not a room was unlit at this hour. The sight now was sobering.
Are you sure they’ll come?” Leo asked the room, but the question was mostly for Dane, the aging commander whom she’d followed since she’d risen from the ashes of her town.
Patience lass,” Dane said softly. “There are those who haven’t given up their oaths quite yet. They’ll be here.

Leo looked around; there was the odd patron here and there, but, for the most part The Dragon’s Head lay depressingly void of bodies. The traffic here had mostly been due to the slayers, and business with the keep, but now, most of the regular people had already packed up, and taken their business elsewhere.

Hey Leo, if you’re pressed for something to do, howabout a song?” Dane ventured, a wry smile hidden behind his salt and pepper beard.

What’s there to sing about?
Oh come on, you know the one.
Leo groaned. “I haven’t had near enough pints for that Dane.

Come ooon, you love that song. The rest of us would appreciate it. Truly.
Leo gave him a scowl, then slowly…

"Here there be dragons,"
Is what they always say,
Well, here there be fools
And here they are to stay

Dane grinned, and began to stamp to the bouncing rhythm of the song as Leo’s voice filled the little room, drawing eyes and a few more smiles.

They've teeth like the dragons,
And sharper tongues to match,
Their mouths they spit out fire,
So you'd best batten the hatch

The barkeep was smiling now too, and sent a pint sliding down the counter straight into the woman’s hand as she continued now with more energy, raising the glass to the room, enticing others to join in.

You can flee far and wide,
But, they'll always find you,
They smell you on the wind,
and how shall I remind you?

You see, like the dragons,
They know you to the bone,
Because, we all say very well,
They know one of their own!

Leo laughed and took a gulp of the ale. How much longer would she be able to have this she wondered. There was many a fine memory she’d made in this pub, with her slayer kin...

((Poem adapted from a poem by Ada Katona))

Zazz Zazz Tainted Nazgul Tainted Nazgul 28days 28days Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian Fluffy-Kat Fluffy-Kat VeiledPariah VeiledPariah blitzfritz blitzfritz


The Lion
"Are you off to Dragon's Head, then?"

Hair a right disaster, Thaessalia pulled on her breeches and glanced over at the woman lying beneath the furs of the bed they'd been occupying for the last two hours. "Maybe. Why?"

The other woman sat up, torso bare. "The Dragoons are meeting tonight. What's left of them, at least." She reached over to retrieve a notice from a drawer. Thaessalia listened as she dressed to the woman reading Dane's message out loud. The ex-slayer had never learned to read. Whenever she had tried, the letters never quite made sense, never lined up in her mind.

A commotion could be heard coming from a room down the hall; a man was shouting, yelling profanities, followed by a loud thud as a body hit a wall. Thaessalia hastily fastened her armor and weapons to her person, ran her fingers through her long hair, and left the other woman with a farewell kiss.

Not a moment later, the man down the hall was being tossed out the front door of the brothel, black eyed and unconscious.

After a last, strong ale on the house, Thaessalia wandered over to the Dragon's Head Inn. She made no effort to stop the rains from soaking her head to knee; a childhood on the open seas had prepared her plenty for the moist life of Seawatch Point. The door to the inn swung open with a hefty creak, and Thaessalia was greeted with the end of a familiar song, and a familiar voice. Thaess broke a smile and sauntered over to where Dane sat, plopping down with a nod to the bartender for a drink.

Tainted Nazgul

Wraith of the Dragon
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Ⱥɾҟօʂ Ϛҟąժì

The fierce gale whipped through the empty streets, the salt sailing through the air like tiny knives ready to flay any flesh it hits. But the flesh it did hit was resistant. Its iron quality seemed to blast the tiny salt to even tinier pieces. The flesh belonged to a strangely tatted... giant of a man. His blond hair plastered to his face, a fierce animalistic grin stretching across his rough features. Of his travels through Brix and the other surrounding countries, it wasn't often he found a storm. Of course, he'd come across sprinklings and little gusts, but nothing that could remind him of his homeland of Tollus. But now, he could find hints of the power of the elements that could kill even the toughest monsters.

Walking through the street, he felt a familiar grumble in his gut, which he often experienced in his travels. He had hoped to find work as a mercenary, but it seemed that even the hire swords were prejudiced against half-giants. Topping the scales at 8'4, he was well muscled, and often was mistaken for being much older than his 16 years. Heading towards the tavern... Dragon's Head. Walking up to the door, he brushed it open, stooping down to walk into the door before walking towards the bar. Leaning his dragon double-bladed war axe, which was six feet tall and two feet wide, against the counter, he sat on one of the stools. "I 'ant a good beer," he smiled at the barkeeper before looking over at the other people at the bar. Each was armored and weaponed, but their armor was too fine for even the fanciest of sell swords.
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𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌
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Brynjar arrived at Seawatch Point, clambering off the boat, he noticed the ship’s in the harbour being repaired, created, and dismantled all by men no older than 20. He gestured at one of them, drawing their attention. Beckoning the man over, he pulled the pelt-lined bag out from behind him – no larger than a rabbit. He questioned the youthful man about where he would be able to locate the Dragons’ Head Inn, he glanced back down at the folded parchment enclosed within his clenched hand, covering it from the hammering rain. Shortly after the boy directed him towards the tavern. Before he set off for the warmth of the inn, he craned his neck back towards whence he came, Tollus. After taking and releasing a sigh of drowsiness, he stumbled his way toward the Inn, following the flooded path

Once he heaved himself up the hill towards the tavern, Brynjar opened the door ajar whilst the Inn falls silent. Doused in water, he waved his hand dismissively as a motion for them to continue the ambient noise. He distinguished Leoanna's and Dane's faces within the graveyard of a tavern. Setting down the pelt skin bag he carried onto the table before sitting down opposite the fellow slayers.

"Dane and Leo, I suspect? Heard a lot about you both from the letter." Thorburn enquired aloud, he motioned for the barkeep and requested a pint of mead. After taking a swig of the dragon head mead, he observed Leoanna, “What's your story then? Look tighter than a tanning rack.” Brynjar joked, keeping his hand firmly on the mead’s clay bottle. Soon after inquiring about this, he takes another gulp of the sweet honey mead.

might sound less 3rd person past tense bc first time doing this and I'm tired but, will find my way one day


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A fortnight from the date, Morriel had a letter delivered to her temporary residence.

A quiet inn among the shining star of Rannar; the carving and fortifications running along Iylalon’s walls, the same city of the selfsame counsel of five that publicly declaired that the Runic Dragon Order was no more. A good number of Dragon Slayers were still taking up residence in Iylalon’s walls, and in the two months that passed Morriel has not gotten a stable income. Sure, what was left of the coffers in the Knights was distributed among all slayers, but jumping from monster to monster and disturbing the Rannar market because all the Knights who got dismissed aimed their sights at the prospect of monster hunting…was not a viable career for the long-term.

But she was called the Silver Deadeye for a reason. And the slayer would rather be damned to the jaws of a needle-teethed monster than if she was forced to return home.

Her parents never truely cared, anyways. They wanted to continue their ways of work with a successor. They never hid their intentions when in the company of their parents and grandparents.

But the swift knock on the door of the inn room shot Morriel awake. With a start, she scrambled for a moment when the knock happened, getting her bearings for a moment and calming down. The bed creaked as the elzen moved off of it, tossing aside the rumpled covers and making her way to the door. Unlatching it and opening it a creak to peek at who was knocking, she gave a small sigh of relief at seeing it was a younger Runic Knight- he was inducted just before the dragons disappeared. She was his evaluator during his induction, and he slew a brightly beautiful purple nature dragon for his dragonblade.

Morriel? Thank the sisters…” This younger slayer was Jassin Aquil, an elven like her, and wore the signature gold and blue armors of the Order, compared to the simple lighterwear and simple clothing that she was dressed in. Her interest was piqued, as she saw how he was decked out with his weapons, with a folded paper gripped in his gloves.

Jassin? What’s this about?” A quiet moment, before the boy handed the paper over to her. “It’s better to read it yourself, miss. Most of the others are wrapped up in their own affairs.” Morriel gingerly took the paper, stepping back and motioning for him to come inside the small room. His armor was audible, as it paced and paced as she read the paper aloud. It was a letter of course, one from the leader of what’s left of the Brix Dragoons.

… I can see why the others would be wrapped up in their own goals instead of chasing rumors.” Morriel dryly spoke. A small chuckle from Jassin, as she folded up the paper and set it on the bedside table. Her armor laid against the nightstand and on the floor, with weapons on the other side of the bed. “But if you came to deliver it, then you’re free and interested, aren’t you?

Jassin looked to Morriel, his mouth becoming a thin line as he wrung his hands, “Actually…the counsel wants me in the Guard. Reached out to me personally, gave me an opportunity. You know the dragons are gone, miss…


A silence between the two as the gravity of what he said laid between them. A moment, as she gathered her thoughts before speaking again. “… So you gave it to me, in the hopes that I’ll go instead.” Jassin just shrugged, holding his hands close.

But Morriel cracked a little smile, grabbing the letter before shaking it in front of the other. “Hey, don’t worry. If none of the others in the Order want to go, then I’ll go. To both state my curiosity…

…and to answer for my fears.

Morriel was walking through the Dargoon Keep, through Seawatch Point, softly reciting what she said to Jassin before she left that very morning. The elven had arrived earlier today in the coastal town, dressed in her order’s armor and at the ready, and it was very rainy and her hair was getting soaked to the root. The rain made it somewhat hard to see, especially during the night, but the lights of a building as someone stepped through the doorway alerted her- she squinted to get a better look at the sign through the rain; Dragon’s Head. Bingo.

Heading into the tavern, a couple of figures caught her eye in a group by the bar, and Morriel quietly made her way to the bar- a couple of seats away, of course, but keeping her eyes on the group as she sat down.

An unfamiliar group.


Your future Supreme Overlord :3 <3
Eramis Quill

A deep mist had rolled into the gulf of Dun Gannon, and from where Eramis was standing -- a top the cliffs that towered and surrounded the seaside town -- the tops of the pillowy clouds, low and heavy with moisture, looked like a vast ocean of fresh cotton. The young woman took a deep breath of evaporated saline and slowly blew it out through her mouth, tasting the salt and the fine mist tickling her nose. Things always seemed peaceful up there. It was quiet and solitary, reminded her of home. Her true home.

Hair wisps whipping wildly in the high winds, she traversed steadily down the treacherous zig-zag path along the cliff's face. She had been gone a while, and knew Mr. MacKenzie would be quite angry when he found out she was idly wandering about.

When she reached the town, life was still in motion. Mothers with children in hand rushed home to start supper for their hungry husbands who were coming back from their work on the docks, the chimneys of inns and taverns spout black puffs as the fires were put on, ready for the surge of customers as the day was nearing its end. Merchants with their horse carts, were stacking, piling, and storing their wares neatly to return home. Dun Gannon was always cold and damp, dingy with mud as far as the eye can see during the wet seasons. It wasn't a marvel to look at but the people were always hospitable with what little they had. Eramis walked with haste down the main cobblestone road, her robin's egg blue skirt swishing to and fro with each hurried step. She tugged at the corset beneath her bodice as it seemed tighter the harder she breathed. 'Curse these cages,' she thought, forgetting the correct name for the hated garment. She picked the closest thing that it reminded her of, 'Why do human women willingly subject themselves to such torture?'

Eramis reached the home of Mr. And Mrs. MacKenzie just as the sun disappeared behind the cliffs she left behind, the warm glow of a hearth burning through the glass windows. She could see Mr. MacKenzie's silhouette pacing back and forth with a book in hand, most likely muttering to himself, no doubt. Eramis pushed the door open and braced herself from the fury that was to come down on her.

"Ye stupid excuse for a lass!" Mr. MacKenzie wasted no time for a good scolding, "Ye'were supposed t' be back hours ago!" He slammed is dusty old book on the table in front of him making Era jump, hissing through gritted teeth. "An' just wheeere 'ave ye been?!"

Eramis briefly looked at his reddened face, he had eyes of lightning ready to smite her at any given chance. She opened her mouth but was quickly interrupted.

"Don't say anythin'! Ye go out there 'an don't come back 'til ye got what I asked ye for! Go on!" He picked up his book and flung it at her with alarming force.

Instinctively, the young woman ducked down, wincing at the thud she heard when the hefty book hit the door behind her. She turned around and ran for the door, eye brows knitted together in fear, "Bet'er pray the wolves don' eat ye! An' if they do, ye'd still better come back, ye hear?" he shouted behind her in time before the door completely shut.

Eramis picked up her skirts and ran toward the open ocean, which wasn't very far at all. When she reached the pebbly shore she slouched over, hands on knees gasping for breath, cursing her corset once more. Mr. MacKenzie, an apothecary and self-proclaimed alchemist whom she studied under, had asked her to bring a handful of barnacles, or as he called them, sea boils -- because they litter the rocks along the ocean like bumps on a person sick with measles. He liked to crush their hard exteriors into fine powder for medicinal purposes. To what, she did not know, but knew better than to question it. To Era's luck she didn't have to venture far to find a healthy tide pool rich with them. Using a knife with a rounded tip, she scraped a few off the rock's surface and quickly returned home.


Over supper, which was another one of Mr. MacKenzie's notoriously bland stews, Eramis listened as the wrinkled man explained some strange news that reached the nearby tavern he and his wife owned. His cracked lips spoke of a gathering for the late Dragon Slayers, something about them being called to arms once more. The dragon-woman almost choked on her stew, earning a swift, disapproving leer from the hot-headed man before her. He continued to say that his darling wife was leaving at first light to said gathering, apparently she had made a deal with the tavern keeper at Dragon's Head, who was an old friend, to bring some of their homemade ale to sell and entice the drinkers to visit Dun Gannon for a drink. With out hesitation he asked, no, demanded that Eramis accompany her on the three-day journey so that Mrs. MacKenzie would not travel alone with just the cart driver. Eramis had no say in the matter, and knew it too, but something about it made her anxious. She was excited for the adventure but nervous for the sole fact that the rendezvous was named "Dragon's Head". She rubbed her neck slowly and took a gulp of water from her iron pint mug to swallow her edge. It was going to be a long and sleepless night, she didn't even have time to pack...not that she owned much anyway. When Mr. MacKenzie finished his meal she cleaned up the table, washed the utensils and went to her little room to sleep...or at the very least lay down to rest.

The next morning, Eramis sat on the back of the cart, miles from Dun Gannon, with Mrs. MacKenzie humming cheery tunes to pass the time, legs dangling above the passing ground. They had a long ways to go after all. Her plump body was rather cozy against the firm wood that was already making Era's bottom sore with every rock and bump. She adjusted her position frequently, obviously uncomfortable and dreamed of having her dragon body back, soaring to her destination with ease. Eramis yawned, and rubbed her eyes, still drowsy from waking up before a semblance of light even touched the sky. "Dinna worry yerself lass," Mrs. MacKenzie put a comforting arm around the sleepy girl, "Weel get there soon enough, eh?" she said reassuringly with a smile, the apples of her cheeks red from the cold, and continued to sing her jaunty song, rhythmically patting her hand on the wood to keep tempo.


Once they arrived at Seawatch Point, Eramis felt the remnants of her energy drain at the flash-thought of a warm bed, while Mrs. MacKenzie somehow remained as jolly as ever. Eramis wondered how the woman managed to do it, and gave up when she couldn't find any logical reasoning, as if they didn't just travel cold and hungry for the last three days. As their horse quickened its pace and trotted through the town, Era caught the voice of the village lunatic above the clopping of hooves. She was awfully skinny, more bone and skin than anything, she couldn't have been older than 40, but her sagging, malnourished skin aged her by at least 20 years. Her clothes were tattered and worn with holes, she had an old potato sack for a shawl to shield her from the harsh rain, and yelled at the few who passed by, "Dragons! They live among us!" Eramis perked up her head, facing the woman with a concealed look of guilt. The stranger continued her warning with out-stretched arms, "Like wolves in sheep's' clothing! Dinna trust those with sharp teeth, they'll 'ave eyes that can turn ye to stone!" She was wrong about the latter but that didnt stop her from pointing at Eramis, meeting her gaze. Mrs. MacKenzie leaned into the shivering girl's ear, "Dinna fash dear, she doesna ken what she says. Poor woman has lost her wits," she shook her head with pity. She must've seen the distraught look on Eramis' face to feel compelled to offer comfort after hearing such haunting speech. Eramis' head sunk into her shoulders as she pulled down the hood of her cloak to conceal her face.

Sounds of revelry could be heard for a mile when they came around to the tavern. The cart driver gave a soft whoa to stop the horse, and the cart halted altogether right in front of the tavern door. Light from a warming fire flickered and danced through the stained glass windows, and a fun song resonated through the walls, sung by drunken, albeit happy, voices. Fixing her cloak, Era slid off the cart and adjusted her skirts. Wasting no time she started to unload the goods from the back of the cart, earning a surprised look from the cart driver as she walked passed him with, what should be, heavy crates. She clumsily pushed the door open with her rear end, almost tripping over her own feet, two heavy crates of bottled ale stacked upon one another in her arms. She tilted her head back slightly to see under the brim of her hood, which slid too far forward from the weight of water that soaked it through. Mrs. MacKenzie came in after her, brushing past and heading for the tavern counter, "Hurry lass, yer soppin' wet an' drippin' water onto the floor. Hurry now!"
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The Answer to all your problems!
Fire lashed against her tough hide, her scales of silver shimmering against the moonlight and flames. Steel sparked and rung out its strikes as screams echoed amongst the tundra valley. These men had intruded upon her home and were going to regret it. Blade met Talon, Fang ripped shield until suddenly silence… lightning erupted throughout the terrain emanating from her at will. Smiting those that stood before her hatred in her seething eyes. As she stood onto her hind legs and released a victory cry before her body shrunk down until she was a mere woman clinging to scraps of cloth that now adorned her frame. The once majestic natural armor she bore little more than a memory as her roar of victory retreated and was replaced with a wail of horror.
Tireisa’s eyes widened as a storm ripped into the skies and struck down around her shattering the earth and crumbling the steep cliffs beside her. She willed her legs to move and began to run all the while genuine fear coursing through her bones as the chill of the rain and wind bit at her like that of an ice dragons frost. Surging waters flooded into the valley careening down and crashing into her. She fought, and fought against the tide and rip currents as they dragged her down again and again. Finally she was able to find purchase amongst a rocky outcropping as she clung to it in desperation. The storm grew more violent as the wind forced objects to crash against her hold but she held true until a voice echoed out piercing through the screeching gale.
“I’m here, Tireisa don’t come any closer!”
Her gaze jerked towards the noise as she gasped and immediately released her grip. The waters took her once more as all senses went to darkness, before bursting brilliantly to see the outstretched hand.

“Tobias….Tobias don’t!!!”
she screamed as she reached out towards the disheveled warrior before he was cut down once more in front of her. Tireisa scrambled amongst the brush and dirt reaching the man and cradling him against her as blood seeped into her clothing staining the ground crimson.
“I’m sorry, please don’t go….just stay just hold on please!!”
Her cries never being heard as his body dissipated in her arms as they fell to her side defeated. The low growl from behind her as she tilted her head backward to see herself as she truly was, that hatred that bore holes into mens souls directed at her.
“Why….why have you done this, what did I do to deserve this!” she yelled hoarsely as her body moved on its own driving her towards the dragon that neared its menacing fangs and closed around her ending her life.
“Wake up..”

Tireisa awoke with a start sweat beading along her forehead as she clutched her chest attempting to catch her breath. The woman wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat along the edge of the cot she had been laying in. Her eyes listed to the window as the suns rays had not greeted the sky signaling daybreak. She stood and moved toward her wash pan filling it with a small amount of water from a wooden pitcher and washing her face and using a cloth she dampened to wipe herself of the sweat.
“That dream again, it’s happening more often….Tobias…..”
As she whispered softly to her rippled reflection her grip on the cloth tightened before she drew in a breath and exhaled it loudly.
“Right, time to get to work Tireisa.”
She motivated herself and after getting dressed into her slacks and jerkin grabbed her bow and quiver, exiting her room and leaving the tavern.

The freshly accumulated dew amongst the blades of grass offered the cool morning a refreshing breeze as she stalled the forests edge hidden amongst the tall brush as a hare stood to take in scents through its nostrils. Though alert it couldn’t react in time to whistling arrow finding its mark and sending the creature to the afterlife. Tireisa stood and muttered a small prayer of thanks before adding the hare to her string of collected rabbits she had hunted that morning. The sun had now crested in the sky as she made her way back to the tavern to begin the disgusting process of preparing the meat for the taverns patrons today.
As she strode along the footpath she was greeted by the farmhands heading to the fields to till the land and sow the grain. Most making promises to swing by the tavern later to which she smiled and expressed her excitement about seeing them there.
The Honeypot Tavern was by no means some great sight to behold but it offered a respite for travelers and laborers just the same. A normally friendly establishment for good times to be experienced and drink to be had. Truthfully no night was a slow one, but that always meant there was work to be done.
After making her rounds and inventory she set to work preparing the rabbits she had collected. She always hated this work but knew it’s necessity, even she could no longer eat without the meat being cooked and prepared properly though she found it a waste most of the time.

By mid afternoon the customers began to pour in, ale and mead began to flow and all who entered were greeted by the auburn haired girl with a soft smile and a filled mug. A bard was playing in the corner as Tireisa exchanged small talk and brought refills and food ordered. At one point hopping atop the bar and dancing to the tunes as the men and women sang and jeered with merriment. The moon long hanging in the night air as she finished cleaning the tables and gently escorting the last inebriated patrons from the building before washing and changing into her night gown and flopping down onto her cot to close her eyes and start the cycle once more. These were her days working alongside the tavern keep and slowly stashing her wages in her cupboard until she could finally buy her own place. Tireisa outstretched her hand towards the ceiling her imagination replacing it with her talons and true form as she slipped into sleeps embrace dreaming of the cool winds bracing against her as she soared through the clouds and among the mountain tops. The things she now missed that she had once taken for granted were the hardest for her.

The next night a band of men a definitely traveled sort were sat amongst the usual patrons and were drunkenly complaining about the days of travel they still had to reach Seawatch point. Tireisa casually asked what business they had tending to over in those parts and they regaled her with the last meeting of the Brix dragoons. She had heard that name before and knew what it meant. It was only then that she recognized the armor and weapons these men displayed.
They were dragon slayers. The man obviously in a drunken stupor even showed her the letter calling them to the location.

It was then that the tavern owner Brick spoke up “Ah well if yet heading that way could I pay ye for yer protection of some goods. Im trying to break into the market with this new mead the lass and I brewed up” Tireisa turned to start to object but the offer was accepted as the men thought they could make a little coin should the meeting not bring about any work, men had to eat and food had to be paid for after all.
This situation would have been fine on its own had he not asked her to go along and meet with the DragonsHead tavern to ensure the sale and arrangements of the shipment were met. “But won’t you need me here?”
“Oh lass we can do without ya for a week or so, besides if you are wanting to run a place of yer own some day you need the experience. Besides these old bones couldn’t weather such a journey anymore especially these days”
Tireisa groaned but begrudgingly agreed and that was how she found herself surrounded by dragon slayers as they braced against the storm that had rolled in. It had been giving them trouble most of the day and although her guards had not met with any issue in the form of monsters or bandits they had much fight with the weather. The days of travel were actually not so hard besides that, days in exchange of stories those the slayers had experienced and hers ones she had heard from others. Nights camped under the stars with brew and food shared, thanks given for her cooking the men and women wishing she had accompanied them more often. The days melded until they were outside of the port town.
The small band pushing the cart carrying the specially brewed cherry,lavender, and cinnamon brew free from yet another rut as the mule cried in protest. Tireisa held her cloak above her head in an I’ll attempt at blocking the rain once more as they finally made their way to the Tavern. The dragon slayers said their goodbyes for now as Tireisa stabled the mule and began the task of moving the merchandise into the tavern through the side entrance. Her heart was racing as she placed a crate of the mead on the bar and began talking to the tavern owner. The deal made quickly after he had tasted the product and exchange of gold between the pair before she inquired about a room for the night to which he agreed. “Aye you shouldn’t be out in this storm again girl. Stay the night here and we can get you on your way in the morning besides I could use a hand with this crowd tonight and that can be yer keep”

“That is most appreciated sir, I will get the rest and I do hope we can do further business in the future”
“You keep making mead like this and I have no doubt our partnership will prosper”
“That’s good to hear”
As she began to move back towards the downpour the slayers in the tavern erupted into song the words stopping her in her tracks as she stilled her mind for a moment the woman who had started singing irked her to sing words of praise for the slaughter of her kind and to compare themselves to a dragon it caused her teeth to grit. Her thoughts of momentary weakness only broken as another delivery was being made but it was not the intrusion that had broken her from her hidden anger it was the familiar scent… Tireisa’s eyes fell on another woman being hurried to place down their own goods as she excused herself but held her gaze on the girl for a moment longer before rushing outside to finish unloading the cart.
“I can’t believe it, there’s no way…it couldn’t be”
The woman thought as she stood underneath the stable as her mule munched happily on some hay her hand gently caressing the beasts coat as more jovial chatter emanated from the Dragons Head. Shaking herself from her thoughts she once more she calmed her breathing and reentered the establishment and began doing what she did best serving drink and making conversation that soft smile hiding the pain and anger she felt from a life she had once known that seemed now to be only a distant memory.
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I pull levers
"And where do ye think you're goin'!" came the thundering demands from on high. Brenier flinched, freezing on the gangway before daring to turn and face the voice. Slowly he spun, to be met by not only an accusing finger, but numerous nocked bolts. Not a sole aboard the vessel looked pleased, least of all her captain atop the boathouse. He was a stout man, sweaty despite the strong rain, and red enough to act as a buoy. His nose flared, blowing bull's breath throw the wiry stache hung between thick chops. "Well!? Sound off be'ore I have ye skewered!"

"Is it not time te disembark cap'ain?"

"Don't ye cap'ain me! Ye know right well what's owed. Now, cough it up!" Of course, the matter of payment, always the trickiest matter when parting with associates. Brenier placed a hand over his heart, dipping into an understanding bow with the other arm respectfully behind him.

"Aye, of c'urse. Naht te worry cap'ain, you'll find every cent atop ye desk in the cabin,"

"I JUST CAME FROM THE BLOODY CABIN!" there was a pause between the two, wind and rain flapped the sails and stirred the rigging to best fill the silence. Brenier pursed his lips, still half bowed. The captain continued his rabid huffing above, awaiting answers before one was eventually provided.

"Sorry, did ye look...IN the de-"

"SPILL HIS GUTS ACROSS THE HARBOR!" and like that, the voyage was officially concluded. Brenier turned once more, remaining low as he took a tumble down the gangway. In his place, that rear hand had left a vial of murky dust. There was a sudden crash masked by the flinging of bolts down on him, with it came a cloud darker than the stormy evening. The passage to shore, as well as the pier, were obscured in a shimmering black cloud. The bolts cut through, slamming into the wood where Brenier once stood.

Plunk plunk plunk!

"On that black'ards heals!" he heard from further down the dock, already having achieved a notable head start on his pursuers. Their bobbing lantern and and clunking steps were coming up the pier behind. It didn't seem the distance was closing.

"Fair seas home Cap'ain!" another bolt collided with the post next to him, splitting wood rather close to his ear. "And no haurd feel'ns!" Angered cries from the captain and his crew were all he received in answer, along with what sounded like a man tumbling across planks. He couldn't help but crack a smile and chuckle into the night, taking pleasure in the lantern light fading behind him.


"No no, the passage was rather cheap ma'er of fact," Brenier mentioned to the table. Leaned back in his chair, flagon in hand, the mercenary had been weaving his tale for some time. There was of course the added sea serpent attack and a few extra maelstroms dotted in here and there, but nothing absurdly far from any truth. Regardless, the company around him was eating it up, and showing their appreciation by covering his tab. He figured they'd enjoy a quick stop on a deserted island next, one occupied by cannibals to keep it interesting, but how to end such a grim encounter? Just as he was putting his mind to the story, a jovial song erupted from across the tavern.

It was slightly different then he last heard, far more about the dragons than the coin earned slaying them, but the tune was spot on. Yes, this was a version of the shanty that'd swept across the decks of the Outrider. It was sang on the hottest days, the bitterest days, and always once before they'd take a dragon. "Pardon me lads," he excused himself from the table. As if in a trance, he made his way across the floor, up to the main bar through groups of singing townsfolk. As the tune was winding down, he found himself sat between a varied group of warriors and an elven woman adorned in an armor of blues and gold.

"Now that's a tune there," he'd mention to the woman beside him. "Not too many who cahn sing it like that ei'her I'd wager," he'd take a greedy sip from his flagon, finishing the drink before addressing her with a question. "So this is the group then? Cer'ainly attracted yerselves a mixed crew."
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Tende altum, volare altius
Leo caught sight of the door opening and her expression fell. She turned away intentionally. It had been hard to be sure, but Leo had stayed with the order, working, training, taking small monster hunting jobs inland for the coin the crown now withheld. To Leo, Thaes had been wasting her skills and her time.

Instead, she turned her attention to the hunter who had just sat down at Dane's table.
Dane offered the man a welcoming smile.
"It pleases me to meet a brother from the Drakon Svėfja. I do hope our weather hasn't put you off Seawatch."
Brynjar's observation of Leo's dour mood was met with a surprised glance, and then a dismissive shrug.
"Just didn't expect to see a certain face tonight." She answered, before turning to the offending party.

"What are you doing here Thaes, you run out of whores already?"
Dane gave her a warning look from under his brow. Tonight was not a night to pick at moral grudges.
Leo forced a smile at the table by way of excusing herself, and turned towards the bar.

The barkeep took one look at the massive half-giant and complied. If Arkos looked young to him, he wouldn't dare say so.
Dane spotted the boy and waved at him.
"You have a scale, my friend. That means you belong with us. Please, sit."
Leo gave Arkos a nod. "You can have my seat there. I think I prefer the company over here."

The Black Lion took a stool next to a stoic-looking elf.
"You'd be from the Runic Order then? Your armour's nice."
The man that took the seat on her other side made a comment about the song. Leo looked him up and down.
"Mixed crew in truth sir. I don't believe we've met either. Are you a slayer?"
Leo couldn't pin the origin of his armour, and he looked as motley as the sailors down at the ports, but Dane had taught her to be courteous to everyone, because you could never tell a soul's worth just by looking at them.

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The Lion
"What are you doing here Thaes, you run out of whores already?"
Dane gave her a warning look from under his brow. Tonight was not a night to pick at moral grudges.
Leo forced a smile at the table by way of excusing herself, and turned towards the bar.
Thaessalia sighed into the drink brought around to her. "Aye, gettin' through 'em one by one," she said to the room, loud enough for her old friend Leo to hear. With a grin and a wink, she added to Dane, "Sometimes even by two or three," and clinked her mug against her old mentor's.

In truth, she'd had enough of training for a fight that seemed less and less likely to come. It had been months since the last dragon sighting. The keep had become depressing as a ghost town. And, despite Leo's obvious disdain for both her choices and her presence, Thaessalia had really decided to come in the hopes that she might see her oldest friend.

"What's this about, before I get squiffy?"
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~Out at Sea~

The skies above raged in controlled fury; dark clouds blotting out the faint light of the heavens above. Below, the swirling cold winds howled to their hearts content almost as if an angelic chorus had been summoned to serenade the crew of the 'Esmeralda' with one final song, before the dark ocean below would claim their next victims. Icy cold water lashed at the bodies of the desperate men below; the wind carrying forth the touch of the ocean's freezing soul, battering their bodies relentlessly as even the skies above decided to rain upon them; a deluge of rain pouring upon them as if everything else wasn't already bad enough.

Crashing waves bodied the side of the vessel, each slam threatening to capsize the smugglers ship; the groaning of the wooden bow audible amidst the shrieking winds. This... this was the last place that many wanted to be in, trapped upon a boat and left to the mercy of nature. Alas, for the crew of the 'Esmeralda'.. this was simply another day at work.

"Man da capstan!, Raise da main topyard and fer heavens sake, Keep da product dry!" shouted the voice of the ships captain; the aging man presently wrestling against Poseidon's fury as the stormy sea's threatened to capsize the ship he and his crew presently found themselves in. A battle between man and nature, one waged countless times before and would continue to be waged for countless eons longer. Mother nature was quite often the victor, but on this particular night even she would admit that her current opponents were not one to trifle with. Having sailed the seas for many years and experiencing the tempestuous storms that frequented the shores of Tal-kangs isolated island, the crew had more than enough experience when it came to battling the sea's rage.

"You!" he shouted, pointing at a skinny deckhand presently clambering about as he struggled to maintain himself upright against the ships jostling. "Head below an make sure da bloody barrels are tied down! I ain't losing no stock because of some bloody storm!" he barked, eyes now scanning the rest of the deck for a particular individual, one that had thus far eluded his gaze. "Oi!" he barked once more, now addressing everyone that was already scrambling about the deck; "... and will one of ya worthless caks find me that blasted Raegas and bring him ere now!. If he ain't doing his part... than I'll throw him overboard meself!" he continued, his body lurching forward as the boat crashed into another large wave; specks of ocean froth smacking him right in the face as he felt the side of the wheel dig into his ribs. "Fer heaven's sake!" he cursed as he knew full well that that was gonna bruise in the morning.

Thick rugged hands clasped the Bowsprit; dark wavy locks of hair dancing amidst the ocean's breeze as if the two were essentially one entity. Unwavering and staring the fury of the storm head on, Agares watched the dance of the ocean with wide open eyes; a large grin plastered against his face as his free hand held firm to a bottle of rum that he had burrowed from their current stock presently due to land at the port of Sea Watch.

A loud booming laugh could be heard emanating from the front of the ship, as a large swell approached; the sight of all of this bringing a wave of nostalgia to the dragon now trapped within the body of a human. Storms like this... they reminded him of the good old days when he stood on the other side; when he was the one summoning forth the tempestuous chaos that presently ensued all around them. Alas, being on the other side of that battle was a real eye opener and an experience that he himself had not realized he needed.

Truth be told, the summoning of storms had begun to grow quite tedious during the latter part of his dragon life; the unsurprising results being all too predictable as many men met a watery grave... save for the crew of the Esmerelda. At least now, staring at it all from the other side, Agares had managed to rekindle the adrenaline he had once felt when engaging in combat; to stare a foe eye to eye and have that lurking threat of danger keep him on his toes. He could not help but laugh at how fate had turned out for him thus far, to see a storm from the eyes of a mere human... one he would have snuffed out of existence and given no thought to. Call it gods sense of humour that he would find himself waking up a member of the one crew that he had yet to sink; a mere follower of the captain that had managed to out manoeuvre the many storms that he had manifested to keep them away from his shores.

"Raegas!! Raegas!!" came the voice of one of the crew members, his voice faint against the storm's cacophony; yet audible to Agares whom had turned around slightly towards the direction of the voice. "Captain!, I.. I cant find him!!" the same voice continued, softer now as his head was turned away from where Agares was. "I.. He... I... I think he might have fallen..." he continued, though stopped as he felt the heavy hand upon his shoulder.

"Settle down. I'm right here" came the deep voice of Agares as he stared forward towards where the captain was, his other hand raising the bottle of rum to his lips as he guzzled its contents down; uncaring that it was part of the goods meant for SeaWatch.

"Raegas ya bloody bastard!" cursed the captain, upon seeing Agares appear. "Tha rum be'er not be from below!" he continued, biting his lip as he knew that it most likely was part of the goods meant for SeaWatch's renowned inn. "Tha loss in profit is coming outta yer wages and that'll be double if ya don't get yer arse inta the crows nest and find me a way outta this storm, ya here me?!"

"Aye Aye Captain"
Agares replied mockingly, downing the rest of the rum before tossing the bottle out to sea... though before it could it the waves, the wind would catch the spinning bottle, throwing it back against the side of the ship; shards of glass raining upon the crew members and giving them a few new cuts to live with. Oh how they stung as the ocean's waves singed the newly formed wounds. Agares won no new fans as he clambered up to the crows nest.



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The mixture of this mottled crew was a rather interesting sight- the boy a few seats away being quite a few feet taller than everyone else. His did seem younger than he looked, however; must be aging race intuition, haha. Past him was a man with fur coats with grey in his hair- an older slayer, perhaps? He definitely looked like he was wrapped for the cold, compared to the armor the elven wore, which was further insulated on the inside for treks north. Further down was a women dressed in blues and silvers, and interacting with both the older silvered gentleman and the brunette women.

All of them were human, or mostly human for the giant boy with tattoos. Morriel would be the odd one out, with her pointed ears and unique appearance. Crossing her arms upon the bar, she silently shook her head in a polite decline when the bartender walked over- alcohol wasn’t her thing, as was with most of the elves she knew.

Now, a new person entered the group from another side of the tavern. A male, dressed in leather armor and mail, who had sat between Morriel and the group; he certainly smelt of alcohol and trouble. Though she noticed his ears first- full-blooded elven, or at least half, judging from the length of his ears. Despite his blood being in similar kin to hers, the Runic Knight had half a mind to look the other way and make him get the hint with her silence, but the approach of the brunette on her other side turned her attention to the women.

Indeed, aesr.” A smile formed on Morriel’s lips once the women addressed her, and upon the compliment the elven brought her fingers to her forehead and tilted her head down in a mock bow of sorts to the fellow slayer in a form of thanks, “Uluvathae.

Her elvish speech was softer and more whispery than her human speech, on account of being fluent in each. It’s just common to have a lighter voice and less rigid on indentation when speaking elvish, which any Rannian is quick to correct mispronunciation. Looking back to the male who approached first, a shrug came upon her shoulders.

A motley crew indeed.

// Bronco Bronco SilverFlight SilverFlight


I pull levers
"Mixed crew in truth sir. I don't believe we've met either. Are you a slayer?"
"Scale and all ma'am, Brenier Bligh. Lahvley rendition of the Here There Be Coin, I migh' add," he was of course referring to her song, but by the title of its Maramotan counterpart a whole world away. He'd never heard it sung with such an emphasis on the creatures themselves, in fact it would be off-putting to hear anything reminiscent of it this far from the Eastern Sea. Not only was the atmosphere different, temperate lands dotted with warm glowing houses, but the focusses of the people too. Coin had to be made everywhere, that was a fact, but perhaps he was beginning to detect more sincerity in how these people, at least this woman, upheld their duty. Perhaps, prospects were better here, and such attitudes could be maintained with ease.

As for the elf that'd been there first, he traded a nod for her shrug before carrying on the conversation. "Well y'know, i's of'en the most mahtley that'r the most cahpable. Gran'ed, they ever get they're ahct together," he flagged down the bartender with a short raise of his hand, ordering the same brew as before. "Grand shoes they'll be fill'n, whoever's 'n charge," his flagon arrived, foaming over and ready for consumption.

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Ⱥɾҟօʂ Ϛҟąժì

"Hmm? A scale?" The half-giant asked, before looking at his ax. "Oh, that. I actually have two. Looted them from corpses of two high dragons that battled each other. Beautiful battle. Full of the power of Tellema. My grandfather, he was a bladesmith for the Drakon Svefja, he made this blade for me when I went hunting." He chuckled as he took a sip of the beer. It was actually decent for being a Brix beer. But nothing could beat the beer of Tollus.

"Well lady, I dunno, after you sitting on it with your armor and muscles I think that stool needs a rest," he grinned at the wild haired soldier. "But if you insist."

He got up and moved over, but he realized his was a bit too big to sit between two people, so he just sat to the side of the older man. "What do you mean I'm one of you? As far as I'm concerned this is the first time I've ever seen the lot of ya."


Your future Supreme Overlord :3 <3

Eramis Quill

Eramis meant to drop her hood by tossing her head back, but alas the tactic failed. The bond from the moisture between her hood and hair was too strong for such a move. In defeat, Era let out an exasperated huff, setting down the two crates with a forcible thunk to free her hands and achieve what she wished. She pulled the hood back, unveiling her long, silvery locks, tucked underneath the rest of her knee-length cloak. Her waves were tangled, clumpy tendrils from the rain, with some dripping strands clinging to the sides of her face. Eramis blinked in the candle light, adjusting her eyes after being exposed to darkness for several hours. A strange feeling of familiarity came over her like a chill running through her body as a girl walked passed her. It was an unexplainable feeling that almost made her feel light in the head. Her intuition tingled as she slowly looked over her shoulder only to catch the woman exiting out the door. Eramis shook off the feeling, and with a bend of her knees she hoisted the crates once more and silently shuffled her way through the congested tavern. Stepping on a foot or two, she apologetically glanced at their owners, but none seemed to care or notice, perhaps even too drunk to feel it. When she at last reached the tavern counter she lifted and released the wooden boxes from her grip, causing another thunk again above the rattle of clinking glass. The bar keep, twisting a stain covered rag in a freshly cleaned mug, gave her a sideways glance, offended that his domain had been invaded. Eramis, paranoid about the gifted strength from her dragon heritage, exaggerated a fatigued sigh and put a hand on her back as if it ached.

Mrs. MacKenzie was busy following the owner around the room to argue her way into being allowed to vend her drinkable goods. It seemed she made a convincing argument, for the owner listened intensely with a hand to his chin followed by a curt nod and then a hand shake, signifying a deal has been made. Mrs. MacKenzie clapped her hands together and took his hands into both of hers, shaking it vigorously. Happy as a clam, she pranced over to Eramis. Era smiled warmly, truly happy for her care-taker who has always been so sweet to her. She deserved this. "Okay, m'dear. A deal has been struck!" Mrs. MacKenzie began, "Now, go ahead an' place the bottles on the tables. I'll go an' unload the rest from outside," she ushered Eramis toward the bottles she brought in and winked at her before heading for the door. Era turned to unpack the crates, holding a bottle by its neck between each finger. Six bottles in total were ready to be place strategically in the center of each table. She glanced at the door and watched as Mrs. MacKenzie managed to use one of the drunken men to help her unload, no doubt winning him over at the promise of a free drink. Eramis smiled, that woman always knew how to get on people's good side and admired her for it, she made friends everywhere she went.

Hobbling and squeezing her way between staggering bodies, Era dropped off a bottle at each table. One with a group of what looked like honest working men -- fishermen, farmers, and the like -- there to wind down after a hard day's work before crawling home to their nagging wives. Two with a band of what she assumed to be the dragon slayers, judging by their armor and weapons. She over heard some small talk between two of them about weaponry, a notably large man boasted about how he acquired not one, but two dragon scales. Eramis shivered and made sure to go unnoticed by that particular group as best as she could. Another bottle was dropped off to a man sitting alone near the door, his eyes glossed over in serious thought. She made sure to meet his eyes and offer a kind smile, his face was grim, defeated, perhaps he received some bad news? She wondered. He looked up at her approach and reflected a weak smirk, touched at the silent gesture to cheer him up. He took the bottle gladly, raised it with a nod in dedication to her and took a sip. Era gave a small curtsy and a bow of her head and moved on. The last two she left at a table-end surrounded by city guards just ending their shifts. When she turned to leave and retrieve more, one guard grabbed her firmly, his large fingers wrapped tightly around her forearm, "Hold it there, lass," he paused, taking a moment to undress her with his eyes before taking a savage swig of the sweet brew, drops leaking from the corners of his mouth. "My, my. That is delicious. Whats it made of then, love?"

Eramis scowled, her cheeks and ears glowing pink with a mix of embarrassment and vexation. "....Honey," her soft voice spat out a single word. She yanked her arm back to her person and turned on her heels back to the counter. She could hear the group burst out in laughter behind her, but she ignored them. No more freebies for that lot.

Mrs. MacKenzie came back and patted Eramis on the shoulder, "I think those are the dragon slayers, lass." Era's whole body jerked at the touch, for a split moment she thought it was the guard previously giving her hard time. She swiveled her head to see a familiar face and relaxed. "Are ye alright lass," Mrs. MacKenzie's asked with eyebrows furrowed in deep concern, studying the younger woman's face, "Yer as white as a sheet." Eramis nodded and moved a strand of damp hair behind her ear. "Well, alright, if ye say so. Anyway, go ahead and dump a few bottles into a pitcher, leave it for their leisure, eh? Oh! An' make sure to leave some for the few here at the counter," The jolly woman was full of glee to be in the presence of the legendary slayers. She always told stories to Eramis about some of the more notable ones, and even though she talked about them heroically, they always made Eramis uneasy. The dragon-girl swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded reluctantly, immediately getting to work. The bar keep pulled a wooden pitcher from a shelf behind the counter and offered it to her. Era emptied at least 8 bottles into the jug and began to make her way back to the group of dragon slayers seated at the table, making sure to leave three bottles for the ones at the counter. She snaked herself between two bodies. To her left was a man with peppered hair draped in furs, and to her immediate right was the giant of a man she had noticed earlier, both sitting in front of a brunette woman who seemed more than capable of taking care of herself. She avoided their gaze and dropped off the pitcher. Taking two steps back to move elsewhere she was bumped into by the hard body of a drunken passerby behind her. She lurched forward from the force, almost falling onto either of the two men, but saved herself by planting the palm of her hand on the ledge of the table between them and locked her elbow to keep her from falling forward. Eramis held her breath, violet eyes now widened, and was relieved she prevented herself from crashing into either slayer beside her. She straightened herself up and gave an apologetic bow, not even paying attention to see if they had even noticed since they were deep in conversation with others. She went back to the edge of the counter with haste, tactfully standing behind the crates that remained atop the counter's edge. Thanking what ever deity was above for the crates that hid her shame.

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The Answer to all your problems!
Tireisa was practically dancing around the floor of the tavern intermixing with men and women alike, sharing in conversation and drink as she assisted the tavern with its sudden boom of business. A hand lifted from a table to which she passed refilling the drink as requested before quickly shuffling to the next table with a food order. Her eyes every now and then glancing over the crowd to the other girl that had entered and was placing her madams merchandise at each table. It was unmistakable but Tireisa wasn’t going to act upon any kind of talk of that nature here least of all.

She would see how the night would go as always but she did feel disheartened for the poor woman as she was heckled by some men that could be seen as the city guard. The blades that stayed close to their owners had her on guard at all times but she did her best not to show it. Tireisa could only surmise she had been fated to be here tonight for a purpose. Finishing her current round through the tavern she joined the keep behind the bar and began assisting him with the cleaning of the mugs each exchanging a joke or two and just genuinely enjoying the nights atmosphere.

This place felt alive and welcoming but that pit in her stomach kept her from feeling safe to completely. These were after all her sworn enemies not to long ago. In a time when she would take no man’s word and mercy was not something given for they would give her none. This still was true if they knew of her existence, yet for her to be so close and them so unaware gave her a small comfort amongst the mounting anxiety.

Finishing a cup she placed a hand on the man’s shoulder excusing herself for a moment from the current task stepped upstairs for a moment to adjust her clothing and tidy her hair which with a few hand movements she had braided so as not to get in her way of her work. Rejoining the tavern keep shortly afterward, and utilizing that momentary respite to think Tireisa wanted to stay and glad she was offered the room. If anyone knew what happened to her and the others of her kind it may be these souls brought together within these walls tonight.

She had returned in time to watch the younger woman almost slam into some patrons but catch herself and retreat behind the crates placed by the counter.
Tireisa smiled and leaned back a bit so as to show her face to the girl.
“You know, with this lot your hiding place will be drunk before the moon falls.”
Her words were not rude or crass but more warm and comforting if not slightly sarcastic.
She motioned to the girl to come stand beside her as she returned to cleaning and putting away the glasses and mugs on the shelf behind her.
“You do this sort of work often?, or are you here by happenstance like myself….names Tireisa by the way I’m in from Hilsvarn myself”
The woman breathed with a slight chuckle as she multitasked but along with seeing the girl came the same rushing feeling. Like her skin was crawling from chill or warmth after coming in from the snow.

A patron walked up and with a smile she refilled his mug and took the coin he produced before handing it to the barkeep along with another she pulled from her own pouch and poured herself a drink savoring it with an exasperated and comforting sigh.

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Tende altum, volare altius
Leo didn't miss a beat countering her oldest friend. "Well if you get through 'em that fast it's a wonder they want you back!"
It earned a couple of gufaws from a nearby table, but Dane simply pressed his brow between thumb and forefinger.

"Sorry about that," Leo apologized to her two new friends, saying it a tone that told them she wasn't really.
The giant's comment made her smile. "If that's a Tollusan compliment, I should visit more often."

Dane nodded, as if he'd been assessing Arkos quietly since the invitation. "So you are not an official dragon slayer, still, what I have to say will affect you too, so you are welcome."

Leo raised her glass at the half-elf who had given his name.
"Well met Brenier, my name is Leo." She turned to the elf woman. "And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking here?"
"You'll want to hear what Dane's got to say." She told them after another swig of ale. "It's why he sent that letter...we may have a lead on the dragons."

A peel of raucous laughter split her conversation and she turned to see a bar maid rushing from one of the tables with a bright red complexion. The grinning faces of the patrons told her all she needed to know.
"Damn city guard buffoons, drunk on power more than ale recently. When the Keep was full, they wouldn't have dared."
She could hear Dane's voice at the back of her mind: Keep control of one's emotions. Well she was in control. She was controlling her anger...but that didn't mean she couldn't act on it...in a perfectly controlled way...

Leo glanced at her friends, new and old. "Care to help me take out a little refuse?"

The men saw her shadow before they looked up. She had cast it over their card game. True, she hadn't been to the pub in a long while, so the new guards did not recognize her. Had they, it may have spared them.
"We don't tolerate harassment here. The girl has as much right as you, respect the fact, or get out."
They weren't complete idiots, they noticed the armour, but for what it meant...it seemed the order really had lost its influence.
"Away with ye, it was just a bit of fun, no need te get hysterical."
There it was. The bigotry was always there in such small ways, not worth fighting so much of the time. But this time...

Leo's face was a mask of calm, as she grabbed the man who'd spoken by his collar. He yelped, surprised by her impossible strength, granted by the scale she carried.
She marched him, swearing and struggling to the front door. The patrons, enjoying the show, moved out of the way, and on even opened the door. The guards had been enjoying their power about the city just a little too much it seemed.
With a solid boot to the rear, the man was ejected bodily out into the rain.
"Lemme remind you," Leo called out. "There may not be dragons, but come every hell in all of Aerdra, this is a dragon slayer town, and don't you forget it."

Leo stood by the door, keeping it open in case her friends had collected anymore bodies that needed the same treatment.
"Any of you lads want to contest my decision?" She spoke to the rest of the guard, waiting for those that remained to get up and disappear.


Lance ached from the long walk, and longed for a sit down and a cool drink of water. He'd just come in from stabling his little donkey when a woman passed him and asked for his help. He entered the pub for the first time with a barrel over one shoulder. He was so massive people generally gave him a wide berth. He caught the tail end of Leo's dealing with the guards. Watched as the bar maid stumbled. Finishing his task he filled his arms full of bottles and made his way over to her. There was something about her...something familiar?
"Bit packed in here eh?" Lance offered as he set the bottles on the counter and took a pitcher. Then he saw the other girl, also a server and got the same feeling. It couldn't possibly be...

"Could you use a hand? I could take the fuller side if you like."
He felt bad leaving Brynjar, they'd traveled together for a long time, but he was with what looked like other slayers, and honestly, it made him more than a little nervous.
"My name's Lance." He offered the women along with a little smile, the only little thing there was about him. He had to figure out a way to give himself away as a dragon without actually giving himself away...How to do that in a room full of slayers?

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Brenier Bligh. Even his name sounded like pirate’s muck. But Morriel returned her attention on the fellow slayer- who introduced herself as Leo. Shifting in her seat and recrossing her legs, the elven gave a nod, “Morriel Knox. Nice to meet you, Leo.

So that letter was true, then- the people who were left might find out where the dragons went, or the like. A small smile came upon her lips, but she quickly hid it with the back of a gloved hand to her lips; instead, bringing her gaze across the room.

A packed house, naturally, with such weather. However, the rush away from the bright orchid-red barmaid caught her attention quick, and the rowdy laughter of a specific table made the dots connect. Morriel did turn her head slightly when Leo spoke, uncrossing her legs as to jump in if needed- the question just sent her spirits into a fit of proper action, no matter how small.

So, wordlessly standing up to be beside the fellow slayer, the elven made her way towards the table as well, making sure to be a few spaces away to be on the table’s flank despite a couple of the city guards looking at her with a drunken sneer. A few words exchanged between the leader of the citymen and the slayer, Morriel’s eyes narrowing at the guard who dismissed the women to her face, and the start of the repercussions that followed- right before the feel of a touch tracing her lower back snapped her attention to who it was with a jerk backwards.

It was one of the guards, of course- his moment seemed a bit too tipsy to anyone’s liking, and he definitely looked old enough to know better. “Hey! *hic.* Just where do you think you’re goin’? Your body is too much to- *hic.* to resist…

… Get out, biir.

And with that scathing remark, Morriel wasted no effort to grab the city guard by the collar and armor, who gave a babbled yelp at the strength hidden under her armor. He felt weightless as she briskly walked him to the door and then threw him into the rain with a mumbled scowl, patting her gloves together as she turned back to Leo, stepping inside and slightly making way for the big man who was hoisting a barrel. “Excuse…

And then, she was back to sitting at the bar, next to Brenier and watching the rest of the city guard filter out with their tail tucked between their legs, with Morriel tensed up and in a dower mood from the guard putting his hands on her.

// SilverFlight SilverFlight Bronco Bronco


Worthless pleb
Marshal Osborn Merek
Interactions: SilverFlight SilverFlight Mentions: Everyone else as well.
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A breeze with the gentleness of a mother's caress bristled the leaves on the meagre-numbered trees that dotted the field. It hopped over, under, and around a fence that is decades old, but patched consistently, diligently with new woodwork when upkeep is needed; you can spot it by the age-discolored pickets, post, and-or rails. The grass blades and crops whistled in tune with this chilly breeze, the rising sun loomed over this field. Pouring a bitter warmth over the farmstead next to the singular, worn out, dirt path. That dirt path, for one individual, led to a series of decisions which alternated his life forever. This is the farmstead of the Mereks, whose 13th son held the highest honour one has ever achieved. This family of perpetual farmers bred a dragon slayer amidst their extensive lineage, humble farm and rowdy animals. It stirred ardor in the family. Terror too, they clung so heavily to their youngest son. Decades have passed, however, their son returned six months prior.

Except now is not then, now the man stood in his stables crushing straw and trounced dirt under boots of steel. His red-orange surcoat with white diamonds on the serrated tips flapped gently as the winds shifted. Marshal is preparing for departure again. Reginald, Marshal's horse companion, stood patiently as his master worked with securing their provisions for this lengthy trip. The sombre steed shifted his head to look at his master. Its graveyard black mane flowed down the horse's inky body; not too dissimilar to an oil painting given life then had tufts of brunette hair thrown onto the canvas. Marshal peeked this gesture, unconsciously widening the perpetual smile. "Heh, I know, boy, I know. Excitement indeed hasn't found you lately, but that's only because we've been hiding. Once we're on the road, that mischievous vixen will not elude us for'er." He spoke to his friend. Reginald understood somehow, as if there is no insurmountable barrier of speech between them. He pawed the ground then released a noise that is alike a child's endearing excitement for adventure.

"Talking to the animals again, brother?" A voice called out from behind Marshal.

Marshal did not react, he knew who was already there. Since becoming a dragon slayer, one has to hone his sensory skills not just to the sword edge but attentiveness towards them too. The mind streams, perceives, and ignores so much prodding from the outside world that training to be aware of it can do wonders all on its own. Take here for instance, Marshal noticed the footsteps before they reached around the corner of the stable, before ever appearing in his presence fully. Their attempted-furtiveness did not aid their owner in any way.

"God's Bones, Harvey. Does your mouth not tire of turd spewing?" The oldest brother had been taken aback as Marshal turned his head to face him with a chilling stare. Before all tensions vaporised into the air as the two grown men laughed from their bellies and embraced each other. "Oh, you're turning my sickle against me, aren't you?" Said the oldest. "Ha, that's what we dragon slayers do best." "Besides killing dragons, that is?" Marshal thumped an armoured fist against his brother's chest in agreement before turning back to finish preparations. A silence crept then broken. "Are you certain you have to go?" Marshal's smile dimmed, but did not fade. "It is a summons and I am just as curious as everyone else as to what happened to them." "You'll be missing Andrea's marriage, don't think she's forgiven you for that lark of an announcement yesterday." Marshal sighed. "Oh, however will her spirit recover." Harvey's words rang true, as they always have when he spoke them. Being ignorant of another's feelings is a difficulty that plagues the dragon slayer since childhood, always jabbing others with his words or actions unintentionally.

Marshal hoisted himself up over the steed with the help of a stepping stool, his jade eyes locked with the stern gaze of his brother. "I'll send an alm once I reach Seawatch. Oh, and tell mother to stop pestering father about the pigs' health, I've already taken care of that."

With a squeeze on Reginald's chest, Marshal gave him the cue to move. Harvey waved a goodbye.


Days and nights, the golden lynx traveled. Hardened hooves blaze a trail, while the night's cold bite abrade against the armour's sturdy shell. But the birdies swell the amarelle of the ear with quelling songs from their tiny beaks, lending to personal enjoyment contending with a bard's tunes or their merry men songs when slayers gather round to dull the tension's edge on their souls. It helped now when Marshal decidedly declared that he got lost. The old map, yellowed with age, slapped with rivers or towns lead Marshal away until he questioned a town-goer for directions to Seawatch Point. Turns out that his nightly travels had steered him awry, least he could recover the trip with minimal losses to his food and drink. Thanking the town-goer, Marshal set off soon after again.

Days and nights, the golden lynx under nocturnal downpour arrived at the destination. His aquiline helmet leered at the inn's bright light, deflecting rain from Marshal's eye-slits. Senses aflutter from the tip-tapping of droplets. He sees men of various statures shuffled from the premises with the respect given to trash being deserted. Uttering expletives that Marshal found a tad unsavory. He hooked Reginald to a horse hitch with protection against the rain, before doubling back to Dragon's Head Inn. As he approached the door, the leader of the brutish assembly still cried injustice. Town guards, hhmmm?

As Marshal approached shoulder to shoulder, his hand cracked like a whip through the rain across the guard's face, delivering a brutal backhand. So quick that by the time, the guard realises his bottom being soggy in the muddy ground that Marshal had already entered the inn.

"Greetings and salutations, my fellow slayers!" Marshal hollered with joy in his vocal chords. His eyes spot a familiar face immediately, one who shares in the vein of feline epithets. "Leo!" He swung his arms open for a hug, taking no heed that he just stepped out of a dreadful rain with slick armour and wet cloth.


The Lion
Thaessalia was up in a moment, and even intoxicated, she held her balance enough to look imposing behind the city guards. She'd thrown enough of them out of brothels and bars alike for a couple of them to leave on their own after one glance, now that Leo and the elf woman had thrown out their leader and kin. "Bloody barnacles," she muttered, watching them go. Thaess took up her seat again, leaned back and waved down another drink.


Your future Supreme Overlord :3 <3
Eramis Quill

That same rush of tingles suddenly spread along the spine of the silver-haired lass. And then..."You know, with this lot your hiding place will be drunk before the moon falls."

The sudden voice behind Eramis was plesant and inviting. Tense at the shoulders, Era turned slowly to face the red-headed woman that passed her earlier. She stared at her at a loss for words, like a startled deer. The red stranger invited her over to keep her company, and so as to not be rude, Eramis accepted. She moved closer but still kept a comfortable distance between them. The friendly stranger, not at all much older than Era, broke the ice by asking her if she had come here often or here by chance, then introduced herself. Eramis didnt know how to respond, she spoke to almost no one, but she couldnt be rude to the only person who seemed rather friendly toward her. Besides, she hasnt traveled outside of Dun Gannon since the incident, this was her only chance at establishing an acquaintence outside of the small village...where everyone knew each other. Besides, Tireisa's introduction struck down a memory of Mr. MacKenzie squaking at Era for not saying hello when meeting a neighbor, back home. Followed by a smack behind the head. It was customary for humans to greet with a shaking of hands. Eramis formed a tight line with her lips, her habits insisted she says nothing at all, but her well-taught manners were scolding her to do the right thing. Bravely, she stuck popped out a hand from the open lapels of her navy blue cloak, offering a shake, "Eramis....Quill.....Dun Gannon." She confessed rigidly, ignoring Tireisa's initial question but compromising half way to at least give an introduction.

An abrupt commotion caught Eramis' by the sides of her eyes, distracting her from her meeting. Her head swiveled quickly to the door to find that one of the women, who sat with the slayers, had taken it upon herself to rid the tavern of the nuissance that was the gang of guards. Violet eyes twinkled as Eramis saw the same woman to be her hero for the evening, admiring her honorable act from a distance. A small weight had been lifted off her shoulders, knowing that those men were no longer there gave her some ease. Now the only issues were the slayers that occupied almost half of the tavern, or at least it felt like that.

Her hand retracted into the deep abyss behind her cloak when a rather large man waltzed to herself and Tireisa. "My name's Lance," he admitted. Eramis was at a loss for words, as usual, and even more so for thought. How do you talk to two strangers at once? She stood there staring until she felt an arm around her. It was Mrs.MacKenzie, wobbling slightly while emitted the stench of hard drink. When did she drink? Eramis thought. The plump woman opened her mouth too speak, not exactly slurring her words (yet) but red in the face, "I see ye've all met me darling Eramis," she giggled then leaned close into Eramis' ear, "Are they dragon slayers then?" Eramis shook her head no, although she wasnt too sure about the big man. Mrs. MacKenzie cocked her head back with a raised brow, but continued anyway, entering a drunken rant, "The poor dear, lost both 'er parents to a dragon, ye ken. As I'm sure most 'ave. She ran away after tha' day. Gone for twenty years, she was! Can ye believe that? Oh, she was a bonnie wee thing." She stopped to look at Eramis, tears welling in her pale blue eyes, then went on, "Then, some six moons ago, she popped back into our care, out o' NO where. Found 'er in the woods, they did. All thrashin' about like a wild wooman, not recognizin' any o' us! T'was quite the stramash." She explained with a nod. Eramis had her hands covering her eyes, hiding her tomato red face as Mrs. MacKenzie went about giving her life story to two souls she just met. "Aye, but we're glad to 'ave 'er back now. She doesna say a word, though, dinna ken why." she ran her hand down Eramis' silver hair. Mrs. MacKenzie turned to Lance, having a solid chance to look at him. Her mouth closed and she tucked a lose red curl behind her ear, "An' who might ye be, then?" She gave a playful grin, extending the back side of her hand offering it to the man to kiss. Eramis wanted to scream, deeply embarrassed, and had half a mind to just stay outside in the rain.

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The Answer to all your problems!
Tireisa Alderann
Tireisa continued her work as she patiently waited for the cloaked woman to join her although she seemed wary of Tireisa, which in truth she was as well just not if her. At the eventual extension of Era’s hand she set down her her drink and took it once more that rush through her synapses fired leaving her no doubt.
“Eramis..a beautiful name to match a beautiful face, your safe with me at the bar I promise…although I think we are the last ones needing to be worried about that”
Her senses felt like a wildfire burning through a forests hold upon the land. Releasing the girls hand at the commotion as A few female slayers removed the men that had given Eramis trouble earlier.

Tireisa couldn’t help but laugh before slamming a hand on the bar whilst raising her voice so every patron could hear. Her glass raised high as her other hand cupped her mouth to amplify her voice.
“Another round for the valiant protectors of the realm! On the house!”
the tavern erupted into cheers and revelry at the announcement as she smiled at the few who had stepped up to act. Something she would have struggled with in the facade of an ordinary woman.
It was as she tossed back the remainder of her own flagon that a man, a rather large man approached and once more the feeling intensified and it was definitely not the drink.

Tireisa had always been fond of alcohol especially the strong concoctions of her home region among the mountains and crags of Tollus a harsh and unforgiving land, for equally tough and like minded individuals. The warmth it would provide your belly could steel through freezing nights and countless storms. This new patron introduced himself as Lance and offered his help with the swathes of customers enjoying the reunion of sorts.
“Indeed it is. I definitely have my hands full tonight it seems. If your feeling up to it, I’d watch for the grabby ones though”
Her eyes tilting to the more inebriated women who would likely give into their primal urges and begin acting the same as the men before too long. She smiled as she joked before offering a slight bow of her head as acceptance for the help. After a moment a female dragon slayer waved for another drink as Tireisa excused herself momentarily.
“Back in a jiff, You can call me Tireisa if you need a moments rest from the rain you and Eramis are more than welcome to relax a bit” she called back motioning to who the name belonged to as she swiftly disappeared into the crowd appearing beside Thaessalia and refilling her tables drink. “If you need anything else just give a shout” she expressed kindly as she danced back towards the bar through the seated and standing patrons refilling orders as she went finally coming to rest at her usual spot.

Upon returning a more plump woman had joined the silver haired girl and was playing with her hair as she drunkenly regaled them with the story of her disappearance and eventual return to the village. A story not unlike her own in ways as her happy complexion dwindled slightly.
She was reminded of the chains that bound her, the darkness of the ocean that seemed to choke her life away and the stinging salt spray that awoke her amidst this new land among a people that already knew her face though she herself had not. Tireisa sighed admittedly looking a bit tired but replaced it quickly with her soft smile and placing a hand on the girls shoulder. “These past six months have had their fare share of hardships for all of us, but at least she is back with those that care for her madam”

Tireisa’s grip tightened slightly upon Era’s shoulder to show she understood before letting go and raising a brow in surprise as Mrs. Mackenzie began to rather openly flirt with Lance.
“Ma’am I do admit your forwardness could make a lump of coal burn bright red”
As she held back a chuckle looking from the embarrassed Eramis’ silvery locks towards the large Tollusan man and shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to lighten the awkward mood as she poured herself another drink and set another down for Eramis giving her a gentle nod and a soft smile. The ruckus of the tavern in full swing continued as the storm outside remained undisturbed. The rain pelting down amongst the cobblestone and pitch of houses as the rest of the inhabitants huddled together by their hearths and enjoyed meals or sleep.

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Tende altum, volare altius
Leo smiled at the cheers and applause.
“Another round for the valiant protectors of the realm! On the house!”
The call came up from one of the pretty serving women. Leo took her ale, and grinning, gave her a wink.
"Let's handle ourselves with decorum, as the order would. Man or woman, keep yer hands where they're wanted, I've got no qualms throwing out anyone with no respect."
She raised her glass. "To dragon's end!" The toast was as old as the Keep itself, and it was Leo's mantra, or, at least, it had been.
"You all right Morriel?" Leo noticed the elf seemed slightly more reserved than she had been a moment ago.

A boisterous voice from the door made her turn as it called her name. She recognized it and broke into a broad smile.
"Marshal! You soggy old peacock!" She pulled him into a tight hug, disregarding the water dripping from his plate mail and colours. "Get that bucket off your head so I can see you properly, how long has it been? In truth I didn't think you'd answer my letter, you finally realize you're a better slayer than a pig boy?"
She teased him, but when all was said and done, she respected the hard work of a farm, and Marshal for going back to it.
"Keeping Reggie well?" It was an old custom to Leo's to always ask after the horse.

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Dane gave a sigh through tightened lips as he watched Leo. Perhaps it was time to say a few things to those who were actually listening.
"Our researcher may have found a way to imbue a certain type of stone with the property of being drawn to dragons. In other words, they have created a compass, a dragon-finding compass. It has not yet been tested, but this is mostly why I have called the slayers here."

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Lance humoured the woman and lent his ear without distraction. He was genuinely interested too. The story the woman told was a sad one, and when he heard of her parents being killed by a dragon he gave Eramis a look that seemed all too remorseful.
"I'm so sorry." He replied softly.
And then...6 months. Yes he'd heard that right. Could there be such a coincidence? His companions in North Tollus also had memories of him he knew were false...was it the same?
Ermais seemed like she wanted the floor to swallow her. He offered the young woman an apologetic look.
Then Mrs. Mackenzie's tone changed. Lance stared at the proffered hand. His eyes flicked to Eramis with a look of mild alarm.
Still...he had to keep speaking to Eramis and the other server too. He had to know.

Bravely, Lance took Mackenzie's hand and grazed his lips against the back of it, trying not too let go too quickly.
"Well thank goodness for small miracles. I'm glad she's back with you safe and sound."
Then it struck him, he knew how to ask without asking:
"You sound like you're from the North of Brix Mrs. Mackenzie." He observed, directing his question more to Eramis.
"Did you come through Terramus pass? I hear the winds are good there."

Lance did not know much of Brix geography, but he had learned something from his slayer companions, some of whom were from Brix.
Terramus wasn't a pass at all, but a peak, and one most famous for there being many dragons there before the disappearance. Lance had listened to the flight pattern described to him by his slayer brothers, and knew that dragons collected there to ride the currents that raced through the mountain range. A common person would likely not know this, but a slayer would...as would a dragon.
Lance hoped against hope, that if he truly was speaking to a dragon, she would recognize the name, and know he was trying to ask her a secret question.

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The Lion
Thaessalia thanked the redheaded serving girl with a winning smile; she was rather beautiful, after all. Her inebriated head went right to indecent thoughts, but was cut off when Dane spoke.

"A dragon-findin' compass... For dragons tha' no longer seem to exist? Seems right useful."

Thaessalia took a swig of whatever new concoction Tireisa had brought over and furrowed her brows at her mug. "Tha's different. Wha's innat?"


I pull levers
Morriel Knox. Nice to meet you, Leo.
"By the tide, she speaks after all," Brenier prodded upon Morriel's greeting. Not that anything was meant by the remark, but he certainly was accustomed to a more expressive caliber of company. In an establishment such as this, even more so. He'd turn for but a moment, clasping the handle of his flagon, but by the time he'd brought it to his lips and returned to facing the elzen she was marching towards another table. He finished his gulp, glancing to the bartender that'd leaned in to watch the brewing conflict at the door. "Perhahps a wee spot on?" The man looked between the advancing elf and Brenier, right before she hoisted a guard and throttled him out the front door. Both men raised brows at the site, not merely because of how deceiving her strength was, but of how bullish an action she took.

"You might be better off without flapping your gums," came the proprietor's analysis. He'd make his way down the bar again, exchanging drink for coin, as Brenier watched the elzen return to the countertop. He'd clap as she sat herself down, a bewildered crooked grin hanging across his face while he chortled his compliments.

"Aye and the conqueror returns! About whe'r was ye from again? The Runic Order? Remind me not to go hopp'n on any o' yer fella's bad sides, if they show up," a hardy slam against the bar top diverted his attention for a moment, along with what sounded like the promise of more free refreshment. His head swiveled towards a group of four at the counter's end, of which a scarlet lass was hoisting her glass high.

“Another round for the valiant protectors of the realm! On the house!”
Brenier beamed at this notion, raising his flagon in turn and flicking Morriel's shoulder in excitement. "Looks like yer troubles payed off," he grinned, moving to finish off his drink and make way for the new, before noticing a tenseness in his company. He'd stop mid swig, lowering the mug easy to the counter. "Ye alright, Ms. Knox?" the sailor slipping out of him as his focus changed from merrymaking to assessing one of his new "shipmates" as it were.

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