The Dragons of Ragnos

[blaster8]

"WHY!" Invictus snapped, suddenly his mood ruined. "The Elders can't do that I don't want Mirah to die!"

He knew that he couldn't go home now, he would have to stay here in this cave, cold and wet, with only the Dragon-man to talk to while Mirah slept. He felt sad. He wanted to talk to Mirah, he had never really had a full conversation with the girl, but he always felt good when she spoke. It was like her voice soothed his nerves. As a rider's speech often does for their dragon. Just as a Dragons song can be quite soothing for a rider.

"Mirah" He called nudging her again. "Why is she so sleepy Dragon man? She won't wake up... is she hurt?"

"Of course the elders can. Like I said, I know draconic law just as well as the elders. If you don't want your rider, Mirah, to die, then don't take her to the Sanctuary. You are most welcome to come and go as you please between this land and the Sanctuary, just not with your rider. If you want to go home, you can leave her with me. I'll keep a good eye on her. I know how you feel about her, because, like I said, I was once a rider," Cris said as he got up to take a look at the sleeping woman. "As for what is wrong with your rider, I don't really know. She appears to be fine. No broken bones, no bruises. She probably inhaled quite a bit of smoke back in the building, no thanks in part to you (at this he sent a glare towards the dragon), so her lungs need time to clean themselves. Another explanation could be that all that has happened in the past day has sapped her strength. She was happily crawling along the roof tops when you crashed through the roof she was on and sent her world for a loop."

"We will give her time to sleep and recover. In the mean time, tell me about yourself, young one," said Cris.

 

[AriesWolf]

" I am Invictus..." he said quietly. "I come from the sanctuary, and I was hatched on the new moon of winter's darkest days."

To be honest... Invictus didn't know much more than that himself his life had been very simple until all this business with a rider had come along! Living in his nest and exploring the vast territory his mother ruled had been his only real activity. He missed the quiet of that time not so long ago.

"I am the only black dragon born in the last 1800 years" he said brightly hoping to impress the man with the fact that he was the only Black alive right now.

 

[blaster8]

" I am Invictus..." he said quietly. "I come from the sanctuary, and I was hatched on the new moon of winter's darkest days."

To be honest... Invictus didn't know much more than that himself his life had been very simple until all this business with a rider had come along! Living in his nest and exploring the vast territory his mother ruled had been his only real activity. He missed the quiet of that time not so long ago.

"I am the only black dragon born in the last 1800 years" he said brightly hoping to impress the man with the fact that he was the only Black alive right now.

"Well, are you now? The only black dragon born in the last 1800 years? Has it really be that long since the last one? Hmm, I certainly seem to have lost track of time. I remember seeing a black dragon hatch. That was, oh, just before dragons showed up in this land the last time," replied Cris.

That can't be possible. That's not my memory. Wait...could it be? Yes! It is! thought Cris in wonder. "Now you're making me feel old, young Invictus. 1800 years ago. Wow. I can't believe it has been that long," said Cris, the last few sentences murmured to himself.

 

[EHawkins]

Mirah wakes...

<OOC>
Aw… Invitctus is like a giant, over protective puppy!

<IC>

Mirah cried out and woke with a start. Vague clips and bits of her dream still flashed before her. The scent of blood in the air made her panic until she looked up and saw Invictus there, looming over her. She looked over at the sound of a crackling fire that cast long, gloomy shadows in the cave and saw a cloaked man sitting on the other side.

“Damn it…” she swore softly.

Mirah was dizzy as she sat up and peered out from beneath the dragon’s wing. She looked up at the ceiling of the cavern and no shafts of light made their way through. It was night now, and she idly wondered how long she’d been asleep. She saw that Invictus’ wounds had been tended to and that there was a half-eaten deer carcass nearby. Her eyes darted back to the man—the same one that had gotten them out of the building—and she crawled out from beneath Invictus’ protective wing.

For a moment, she looked at the man and appraised him. What features she could see were rugged, and his eyes… They seemed normal, but she was sure this was the same man from before. He was powerful and strong—by the look of him, maybe a swordsman, but there was something wild about him. Something feral and bestial that made her want to steer clear of him.

Mirah cautiously made her way to the pool and knelt in the shadows. She dipped her hands in the water and splashed it on her face. Its coolness felt good on her skin and woke her up. Some of her dream still haunted her and refused to fade. The image of the dark-haired rider and his copper dragon, and the trident still loomed in the corner of her mind. She frowned at it, and tried to push it away, but it was no use.

What is this dream? she thought, Why won’t it leave me? What does it mean—does it mean anything?

“It’s just a stupid dream…” Mirah muttered under her breath.

She got up from the pool’s side and settled in next Invictus. She was still wary of the strange man who sat across from them on the other side of the fire.

“Who are you?” Mirah said, as she pushed jaw-length dark hair behind her ears. “What do you want? What does this dragon have to do with me?”

 

[Wolfsister]

The pain receded as did the light as she closed her eyes. She gave over to the exhaustion and weariness and slept deeply. Strange dreams plagued her, as they did often as of late.

A black haired rider astride her back, protected by her mighty fully matured wings as he thrust his heavy black lance towards another rider apon a fierce black dragon. Then abruptly the dream shifted and she felt the wind beneath her, her rider - when had she come to call the strange black haired man her rider? - were soaring through the skies. There was a sense of innate power, an ancient sense of authority over the skies that she felt as if they ruled the world together. She heard a distant laugh from her rider, a laugh of drunken malicious pleasure at their dominion over this realm. She felt the flame rise in her own throat as she gave a mighty roar in answer to his laugh. This was their world, this was where they belonged. Together, at the top. In the dream she felt the presence of others like her with riders just as strange, just as powerful, but none to equal hers and Alex's.

Alex. Where did that name come from? She did not know, but she did know that it was the name of her black haired rider. She knew that here, where she had finally come to rest, was where she would find the man in her dreams. Alex, her Dragon Rider.

The very idea of a man astride her in mid-air confused her young mind, but she knew to the very core of her that this was the way it was meant to be. She knew that she, along with the human, were special. That there would be none like them, in this age nor the next. And she knew that inside them both, they had that awesome power she had felt earlier.

She wanted it, she craved it. She needed it.

And Alex would be the one to give it to her.

In her dream state, she gave a dragon's smile and her fangs glinted white in an unknown light. She released a great stream of white-hot fire and screamed a battle cry into the sky. A challenge to any other that would constest her rule of this world. I dare you to come! I dare you to find out just how powerful we are!

Suddenly she had the distinctive coppery taste of human blood on her tongue. Its appealing scent drifting across her olfactory senses. Somehow, this blood seemed more real than her dream-visions. It seemed to actually be covering her snout in thick red strands.

Pulling herself from her deep slumber, she managed to open one deep yellow eye and blinked slowly. There was blood on her snout! Human blood, and it tasted delicious. A movement caught her attention and she beheld two male humans not five feet in front of her resting place. One held a sword, the blade stuck through the other's stomach. The first muttered to himself as the second fell from the sword, his blood staining the blade.

Then it struck her. The first human was the strange black haired man she was seeing in her dream-visions. He was Alex, her Rider. At first she could not believe it but soon she had to dismiss her astonishment as pain suddenly blasted into her. Every muscle in her body cramped up and she heard a sick pop as one of her talons broke off her hind leg trapped beneath her bulk. She gave a roar of deep pain and a small gout of flame erupted from her mouth, just barely missing Alex and frying the dead Sam.

"Help me... and know glory," was all she managed to stutter out in a strange gutteral imitation of the human language. Then she fainted dead away once again.

 

[blaster8]

<OOC>
Aw… Invitctus is like a giant, over protective puppy!

<IC>

Mirah cried out and woke with a start. Vague clips and bits of her dream still flashed before her. The scent of blood in the air made her panic until she looked up and saw Invictus there, looming over her. She looked over at the sound of a crackling fire that cast long, gloomy shadows in the cave and saw a cloaked man sitting on the other side.

“Damn it…” she swore softly.

Mirah was dizzy as she sat up and peered out from beneath the dragon’s wing. She looked up at the ceiling of the cavern and no shafts of light made their way through. It was night now, and she idly wondered how long she’d been asleep. She saw that Invictus’ wounds had been tended to and that there was a half-eaten deer carcass nearby. Her eyes darted back to the man—the same one that had gotten them out of the building—and she crawled out from beneath Invictus’ protective wing.

For a moment, she looked at the man and appraised him. What features she could see were rugged, and his eyes… They seemed normal, but she was sure this was the same man from before. He was powerful and strong—by the look of him, maybe a swordsman, but there was something wild about him. Something feral and bestial that made her want to steer clear of him.

Mirah cautiously made her way to the pool and knelt in the shadows. She dipped her hands in the water and splashed it on her face. Its coolness felt good on her skin and woke her up. Some of her dream still haunted her and refused to fade. The image of the dark-haired rider and his copper dragon, and the trident still loomed in the corner of her mind. She frowned at it, and tried to push it away, but it was no use.

What is this dream? she thought, Why won’t it leave me? What does it mean—does it mean anything?

“It’s just a stupid dream…” Mirah muttered under her breath.

She got up from the pool’s side and settled in next Invictus. She was still wary of the strange man who sat across from them on the other side of the fire.

“Who are you?” Mirah said, as she pushed jaw-length dark hair behind her ears. “What do you want? What does this dragon have to do with me?”

"Who am I? A better question would be, what am I? Of course, the answer to that one is hard to explain, so I shall answer the first. I am Cris, a servant of dragons. As for what I am," said Cris, "I used to be a rider. Now I am part dragon, part man. Now that you are awake, I shall give an explanation to both of you."

He got up and went to his stash further in the cave. He came back with more wood and some food. He laid some of the wood on the fire and began to cook. As he cooked a wonderful stew, he told his tale:

"I was a young man, about 19, when the dragons last came to these lands. I was one of the lucky few to be chosen as a rider. What was especially wonderful about that event was that my dragon was one of the rarest and strongest of dragon colors: the magic-wielding Whites. Whites used magic as men used swords. All dragons have some form of magic, but only the Whites could harness it for their own use. My dragon was the only White born in the past, oh what was at the time?, 10,000 years, I believe. Whites have an incredible life span, even among dragons. The reason for that is that they have to live long enough to pass on their knowledge to the next White.

"Anyways, my dragon was a female, by the name of Shela. She was a brilliant dragon. Her white coloring reflecting the light of the sun, blinding those who looked directly at her, except me of course. Before and after we meet, she received her knowledge of magic from Argonath, the White Dragon God of the South. For many years we flew amongst the clouds, fighting off evil dragons and other evil creatures. But one day, when I was 30 and she was in her 20s, we came upon another dragon and rider. This pair was powerful and they put up a tremendous fight. I unfortunately, was fatally wounded in that fight. Shela, seeing that I had been wounded, unleashed her fury upon our foes. No dragon and rider could withstand the fury of a White. In fact, no dragon has ever seen the full fury and power of a White. Shela incinerated the rider and crushed the dragon. After that fight, Shela and I became the last dragon/rider pair until now.

"After Shela had recovered from her fury, she brought me to this very cave, and saught in vain for some form of magic to save my life. In desperation, she discovered a new spell, one that Arnogath did not know. She cast the spell, knowing that it would save my life, but not knowing how. The spell worked, but erased my memories prior to that event."

He paused here to hand a bowl of the stew to Mirah, and he then sat down in silent contemplation of what he had just told.

 

[AriesWolf]

"See Mirah!" Invictus said happily. "You are my Rider!"

The Dragon twitched excitedly. He was anxious to get through her questions so that someone could explain to him why Mirah could not go home with him. Why should they have to stay here? This Dragon-Man was old, he gathered that much... but he had met a white dragon before, his name was Troya, he was old too, but not as powerful as this man seemed to think a white should be. Perhaps time had confused him...

While it was true that White Dragons had a longer life span than most dragons and that they had great control over arcane energies, it was not such a great advantage... their bodies were frail and they tired easily. Such a dragon would never be as large or as physically powerful as any other especially not a black such as himself. (Blacks of course being the largest dragons of all) The Fury of a black was legendary, though perhaps a fully realized white could unleash a devastatinng magical attack they would probably neary be dead afterward.

Invictus let the man speak however his memories obviously pained him... if he would like to remember his dragon companion as more wonderful then she ever could have really been, he would let him... mother had told him it wasn't nice to correct people. Especially humans.

 

[blaster8]

"See Mirah!" Invictus said happily. "You are my Rider!"

The Dragon twitched excitedly. He was anxious to get through her questions so that someone could explain to him why Mirah could not go home with him. Why should they have to stay here? This Dragon-Man was old, he gathered that much... but he had met a white dragon before, his name was Troya, he was old too, but not as powerful as this man seemed to think a white should be. Perhaps time had confused him...

While it was true that White Dragons had a longer life span than most dragons and that they had great control over arcane energies, it was not such a great advantage... their bodies were frail and they tired easily. Such a dragon would never be as large or as physically powerful as any other especially not a black such as himself. (Blacks of course being the largest dragons of all) The Fury of a black was legendary, though perhaps a fully realized white could unleash a devastatinng magical attack they would probably neary be dead afterward.

Invictus let the man speak however his memories obviously pained him... if he would like to remember his dragon companion as more wonderful then she ever could have really been, he would let him... mother had told him it wasn't nice to correct people. Especially humans.

"When I awoke later from the deep slumber induced by that spell, I found myself alone in this cave. I also discovered that I was part dragon. At the time, I just accepted it and believed that I had always been part dragon. I couldn't remember a time when I had been otherwise. Until recently, in fact, during the course of our discussion, young Invictus, when new memories showed themselves," said Cris, his voice trailing into a dream-like state.

He began to sing again, in that strange tongue he somehow knew. The song rose, and fell, the melody changing from happy to sad and back again. It told a tale, the tale of Shela and her rider. Images of this tale came to the minds of those who listened, despite the fact that they might not know the language. The images showed a brillant White dragon, one that did not look to be the least bit frail, in fact it looked to be strong and healthy. The song weaved a form of magic within Cris, unlocking more memories that were not his, awaking knowledge that had been locked away since their....union. (OOC: or since the spell. Stand by for possible change.)

OOC:
Before I go on, do either of you wish to express surprise or bafflement at what I am revealing?

 

[EHawkins]

"Who am I? A better question would be, what am I? Of course, the answer to that one is hard to explain, so I shall answer the first. I am Cris, a servant of dragons. As for what I am," said Cris, "I used to be a rider. Now I am part dragon, part man. Now that you are awake, I shall give an explanation to both of you."

He got up and went to his stash further in the cave. He came back with more wood and some food. He laid some of the wood on the fire and began to cook. As he cooked a wonderful stew, he told his tale:

"I was a young man, about 19, when the dragons last came to these lands. I was one of the lucky few to be chosen as a rider. What was especially wonderful about that event was that my dragon was one of the rarest and strongest of dragon colors: the magic-wielding Whites. Whites used magic as men used swords. All dragons have some form of magic, but only the Whites could harness it for their own use. My dragon was the only White born in the past, oh what was at the time?, 10,000 years, I believe. Whites have an incredible life span, even among dragons. The reason for that is that they have to live long enough to pass on their knowledge to the next White.

"Anyways, my dragon was a female, by the name of Shela. She was a brilliant dragon. Her white coloring reflecting the light of the sun, blinding those who looked directly at her, except me of course. Before and after we meet, she received her knowledge of magic from Argonath, the White Dragon God of the South. For many years we flew amongst the clouds, fighting off evil dragons and other evil creatures. But one day, when I was 30 and she was in her 20s, we came upon another dragon and rider. This pair was powerful and they put up a tremendous fight. I unfortunately, was fatally wounded in that fight. Shela, seeing that I had been wounded, unleashed her fury upon our foes. No dragon and rider could withstand the fury of a White. In fact, no dragon has ever seen the full fury and power of a White. Shela incinerated the rider and crushed the dragon. After that fight, Shela and I became the last dragon/rider pair until now.

"After Shela had recovered from her fury, she brought me to this very cave, and saught in vain for some form of magic to save my life. In desperation, she discovered a new spell, one that Arnogath did not know. She cast the spell, knowing that it would save my life, but not knowing how. The spell worked, but erased my memories prior to that event."

He paused here to hand a bowl of the stew to Mirah, and he then sat down in silent contemplation of what he had just told

"When I awoke later from the deep slumber induced by that spell, I found myself alone in this cave. I also discovered that I was part dragon. At the time, I just accepted it and believed that I had always been part dragon. I couldn't remember a time when I had been otherwise. Until recently, in fact, during the course of our discussion, young Invictus, when new memories showed themselves," said Cris, his voice trailing into a dream-like state.

He began to sing again, in that strange tongue he somehow knew. The song rose, and fell, the melody changing from happy to sad and back again. It told a tale, the tale of Shela and her rider. Images of this tale came to the minds of those who listened, despite the fact that they might not know the language. The images showed a brillant White dragon, one that did not look to be the least bit frail, in fact it looked to be strong and healthy. The song weaved a form of magic within Cris, unlocking more memories that were not his, awaking knowledge that had been locked away since their....union.

Mirah tightly gripped the bowl of stew that she’d taken from Cris as he spoke. This man sat there telling her that he was half a dragon and that he had once been a Rider that belonged to a white dragon called Shela. They’d fought and he had nearly lost his life years upon years ago…

Is this… is this going to be my life now? she thought frantically, dragons, half-dragons, magic, battles… a warrior’s life, for gods’ sake? I’m no fighter—not like that! I’m a—

Cris sang the song of he and Shela in a strange language that she didn’t understand. Unbidden, images of he and his white dragon formed in her head out of the strange words and they collided with the violent impressions of her dream. The crimson dragon and its Rider haunted her. She felt the weight of the trident in her hand and the warm, stickiness of blood that ran down from its wicked points and soaked her hands.

Mirah stood abruptly and the bowl of stew shattered on the rocks. Her face went pale and suddenly, she felt caged by the incredible circumstances and creatures around her. She wouldn’t, couldn’t be bound to such an extraordinary fate. It was inconceivable; it was too much.

“I don’t know what it means to be a Rider” Mirah said as she backed away from both the dragon and half-dragon . “but I don’t belong on the back of a dragon—I belong in Red Hook. I belong in the city…”

She shifted, anxious in the shadows of the cavern, as the full weight of what fate had throw at her finally sank in. She wanted to be amongst the shadows of Red Hook again, She wanted to be depriving nobles of their valuable the more well-to do districts and doing jobs for her most gracious patron, who only called himself ‘Antonius’. She might have a price on her head still, but it was her home, her life and suddenly she felt it slipping away.

Mirah heard the busy cacophony of the Imperial City’s nights call to her thief’s blood just as much Invictus had called out to her. How could she give up her life for an unknown future?

Not unknown she thought, suddenly sickened, and slumped against the rocky wall of the cavern. Something’s coming. I can feel it, oh gods, I can feel it and I don’t want to! It's waiting in the darkness for us--It's waiting to devour...

 

[blaster8]

Mirah tightly gripped the bowl of stew that she’d taken from Cris as he spoke. This man sat there telling her that he was half a dragon and that he had once been a Rider that belonged to a white dragon called Shela. They’d fought and he had nearly lost his life years upon years ago…

Is this… is this going to be my life now? she thought frantically, dragons, half-dragons, magic, battles… a warrior’s life, for gods’ sake? I’m no fighter—not like that! I’m a—

Cris sang the song of he and Shela in a strange language that she didn’t understand. Unbidden, images of he and his white dragon formed in her head out of the strange words and they collided with the violent impressions of her dream. The crimson dragon and its Rider haunted her. She felt the weight of the trident in her hand and the warm, stickiness of blood that ran down from its wicked points and soaked her hands.

Mirah stood abruptly and the bowl of stew shattered on the rocks. Her face went pale and suddenly, she felt caged by the incredible circumstances and creatures around her. She wouldn’t, couldn’t be bound to such an extraordinary fate. It was inconceivable; it was too much.

“I don’t know what it means to be a Rider” Mirah said as she backed away from both the dragon and half-dragon . “but I don’t belong on the back of a dragon—I belong in Red Hook. I belong in the city…”

She shifted, anxious in the shadows of the cavern, as the full weight of what fate had throw at her finally sank in. She wanted to be amongst the shadows of Red Hook again, depriving nobles of their valuable the more well-to do districts and doing jobs for her most gracious patron, who only called himself ‘Antonius’. She might have a price on her head still, but it was her home, her life and suddenly she felt it slipping away.

Mirah heard the busy cacophony of the Imperial City’s nights call to her thief’s blood just as much Invictus had called out to her. How could she give up her life for an unknown future?

Not unknown she thought, suddenly sickened, and slumped against the rocky wall of the cavern. Something’s coming. I can feel it, oh gods, I can feel it and I don’t want to! It's waiting in the darkness for us--It's waiting to devour...

OOC: Thanks for this little distraction. I'm trying to decide which way to take my character's history, and am waiting on final word from Aries. This will allow me to get off the history topic for a little while.

IC:

Cris immediately stopped singing when Mirah stood, dropping her bowl. "Of course you don't know what it means to be a rider. You haven't been one for very long. Give yourself time, Mirah, and relax," Cris said, his voice having long since lost the dangerous edge it had back in the building. His voice was now calm, soothing, almost. "The future for you is always changing, as it is for everyone else. Only certain elements remain the same throughout time. I can see in your eyes that you fear losing your life as a thief, you fear that you have no more say in your life than a bird trapped in a cage."

"If you want to know, my life had changed even more dramatically than yours is. Before Shela came, I was a farmer's son. I didn't have problems with the law, nor did I go crawling across the roof tops in search of a profit. Then, almost as suddenly as your life is changing now, my life changed too. Shela showed up, and I found myself in the middle of a power struggle for the throne, just as it is now. And I did what I could. I learned to fight, quickly, might I add, and I became stronger with Shela at my side. I fought for what I believed in, and that is how our late king's ancestoral family came to power," continued Cris in his calm voice. "You could do the same. Or you could just sit back and watch, or even try to profit from this power struggle."

"I will say no more now until morning. It is time for both of you to rest. Let tomorrow bring fresh minds and high spirits. I will leave you both here by the fire with extra wood. There is still stew in the pot if you are still hungry, Mirah," said Cris, and with that he stood, and walked into the darkness of the cave.

He began to sing again, this time it was a soothing song, one that casts out all fears and worries. It was meant to relax the mind and calm the nerves. His voice carried through the cave, so that it was still heard for some time after he had left.

 

[EHawkins]

OOC: Thanks for this little distraction. I'm trying to decide which way to take my character's history, and am waiting on final word from Aries. This will allow me to get off the history topic for a little while.

IC:

Cris immediately stopped singing when Mirah stood, dropping her bowl. "Of course you don't know what it means to be a rider. You haven't been one for very long. Give yourself time, Mirah, and relax," Cris said, his voice having long since lost the dangerous edge it had back in the building. His voice was now calm, soothing, almost. "The future for you is always changing, as it is for everyone else. Only certain elements remain the same throughout time. I can see in your eyes that you fear losing your life as a thief, you fear that you have no more say in your life than a bird trapped in a cage."

"If you want to know, my life had changed even more dramatically than yours is. Before Shela came, I was a farmer's son. I didn't have problems with the law, nor did I go crawling across the roof tops in search of a profit. Then, almost as suddenly as your life is changing now, my life changed too. Shela showed up, and I found myself in the middle of a power struggle for the throne, just as it is now. And I did what I could. I learned to fight, quickly, might I add, and I became stronger with Shela at my side. I fought for what I believed in, and that is how our late king's ancestoral family came to power," continued Cris in his calm voice. "You could do the same. Or you could just sit back and watch, or even try to profit from this power struggle."

"I will say no more now until morning. It is time for both of you to rest. Let tomorrow bring fresh minds and high spirits. I will leave you both here by the fire with extra wood. There is still stew in the pot if you are still hungry, Mirah," said Cris, and with that he stood, and walked into the darkness of the cave.

He began to sing again, this time it was a soothing song, one that casts out all fears and worries. It was meant to relax the mind and calm the nerves. His voice carried through the cave, so that it was still heard for some time after he had left.

<OOC>
Not a problem

<IC>

Mirah's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I didn't just thieve for profit" she said. "The people in Red Hook depended on me, in part. They were the poorest of the poor--the ones that no one paid attention to. A portion of what I stole always went back to them. I figure if the nobility was going to turn a blind eye, then I'd tax them for it... I grew up amongst these people; some even took care of me when I was young... It's the least I could do."

"I don't want power or glory or any of that, and I don't fight--not like you anyway. I don't know if I could pick up a sword... Power struggles are nobles' games--I'd rather pick their pockets than get in the middle of their squabbles. It has nothing to do with me."

She wanted to stay in the comfort of the shadows, but she couldn't ignore Invictus. He was no doubt hurt by her sudden outburst; he was too young to understand what she was feeling.

"I'm sorry..." she murmured him as she stroked his neck. "I don't know what to do with you--you're so young. How do I even begin to take care of you?"

Mirah looked back at Cris who'd started singing a strange song. She felt it calming her, lulling her to sleep again. She tried to fight it, afraid that she might have another dream.

"Do you believe in dreams?" she asked. "Do you think that they can... tell you things?"

And on the heels of that:

"You... are a curious man."

Mirah didn't know if Cris heard her as she settled down next to the embers of the fire. He wasn't the same man that he'd been before when they first met. He was... kind in his own way.

Well, if he found strength in Shela, then maybe I'll find strength in Invictus. Neither of us can really go home again, can we ?

For a long time, the only sound was the drip of water and the low rumble of Invictus as he slept. Mirah couldn't fight the tide of sleep that washed over her and she drifted off for the night.

 

[blaster8]

"You... are a curious man."

Mirah didn't know if Cris heard her as she settled down next to the embers of the fire. He wasn't the same man that he'd been before when they first met. He was... kind in his own way.

Well, if he found strength in Shela, then maybe I'll find strength in Invictus. Neither of us can really go home again, can we ?

For a long time, the only sound was the drip of water and the low rumble of Invictus as he slept. Mirah couldn't fight the tide of sleep that washed over her and she drifted off for the night.

Yes, that seems to be the right word for me: curious, thought Cris as he watched Mirah drift off to sleep from the shadows. He stood there for awhile, watching the pair of them sleep. The image brought to mind memories of him and Shela. What happened to you, Shela? What happened to me?

He needed to go out and stretch. He left the cave and went out into th light of the half moon. Unfoldng his great wings which stretched six feet to either side of him, he gave a mighty downward thrust and leapt into the air. Flying in the cool night air helped him gather his thoughts and contemplate these new memories that have suddenly popped up. They were definitely not his memories, he could tell. They seemed to have belonged to Shela. But, how is it that he now possesses those memories?

When he had lifted off, the moon had been high in the sky. When it was about to set, he returned to the cave, folding up his wings under his armor as he usually did. Seeing that Mirah and Invictus were still sound asleep, he decided to go sleep himself. He found a little spot in the next cavern over from the lake, and he lay down, using his cloak as a pillow. He laid his sword and shield, which he had kept hidden under his cloak the whole time, next to him. He slept in his armor, as he was accostumed, but this time, he took off his helmet, and laid it with his sword. He had a full head of hair, but it was white, as white as snow, or, if possible, whiter.

Then he slept.

 

[EHawkins]

Soft shafts of sunlight touched Mirah as she woke under their warmth. The embers of the fire had long since died away and the pot of stew was still there. Next to her, Invictus still slept, and she wondered just how long it would take his wounds to heal.

How long are we going to be stuck in this cave and dependant on Cris? she thought.

Mirah frowned at that, as she knelt by the water's edge and washed up. If there was anything that she hated more than owing people, it was having to depend on them... The water felt good on her, woke her up, and she glanced around the cavern. She hadn't had anymore dreams. Whatever Cris had done to her, it seemed to dampen them for now, but she still had an odd sensation as thought she should be holding something in her hand...

Well, if I'm going to be here for a while, it couldn't hurt to explore some...

A slight grin worked its way onto her lips. She didn't want to delve deeper into the the cave. She wanted to go up. Mirah started at the bottom of the wall. She squinted as she looked up to where the shafts of light shown through in the ceiling. They didn't seem too far of a climb.

Mirah found hand-holds and places for her small feet as she quickly, easily worked her way up the wall. She might appear to be a small woman, but she was strong and she pulled herself up closer and closer to her goal. She made it over another shelf of rock and stopped abruptly.

Cris was there, asleep on the ledge. His brilliant, white hair spilled out over his dark cloak. For a moment, she stared at the half-dragon. He looked vulnerable at this particular moment, but she knew better.

Best not to wake him... she thought, and quietly looked up to see where she could place her hands to continue on up.

When Mirah reached the top, she was able to wiggle through the whole. The forest seemed peaceful to her and she lay down in the sun as a gentle breeze tousled her hair. After a moment, she laid down on her back and soaked up the sun.

When she turned her head to look back down the shaft, she could see Invictus, and Cris on his shelf still asleep.

I am in way over my head... she sighed. How can I make the best of this? There has to be an angle...

 

[blaster8]

Cris slept peacefully that night, undisturbed by dreams. As was his habit, he slept lightly, keeping most of his senses on alert. All those years of wandering the lands, hunting evil creatures, has taught him that a deep sleeper in the wild doesn't wake up in the morning. His sense of smell and hearing took note of Mirah climbing up the wall to the outside, but he did not bother to wake, not right away at least.

The sun coming through the holes in the roof finally woke him. Stretching, he got up, put his sword on his waist, and his shield on his back. He decided to put his helmet back in his stash, so he did. Doning his hood and cloak again, he went down to the lake, rekindled the fire, and started to make breakfeast. He had a decent store of food in his stash, kept fresh by a preservation spell he cast, so breakfeast included fresh eggs and bacon. To his sense of smell, this would be a good breakfeast. He decided to indulge a little bit and brought out a jug of fresh milk to go with breakfeast.

 

[EHawkins]

Cris slept peacefully that night, undisturbed by dreams. As was his habit, he slept lightly, keeping most of his senses on alert. All those years of wandering the lands, hunting evil creatures, has taught him that a deep sleeper in the wild doesn't wake up in the morning. His sense of smell and hearing took note of Mirah climbing up the wall to the outside, but he did not bother to wake, not right away at least.

The sun coming through the holes in the roof finally woke him. Stretching, he got up, put his sword on his waist, and his shield on his back. He decided to put his helmet back in his stash, so he did. Doning his hood and cloak again, he went down to the lake, rekindled the fire, and started to make breakfeast. He had a decent store of food in his stash, kept fresh by a preservation spell he cast, so breakfeast included fresh eggs and bacon. To his sense of smell, this would be a good breakfeast. He decided to indulge a little bit and brought out a jug of fresh milk to go with breakfeast.

Mirah smelled food. It was damned good food, too--bacon and eggs! She carefully shimmied through the hole again and made her way down the wall much faster than she'd climbed up. When she reached bottom, she smoothed down playfully ruffled dark hair. The climb felt good, kept her in practice and she took a piece of bacon that had been set aside for her.

She chewed on it thoughtfully for a moment, and swallowed. Mirah couldn't remember the last time she'd had good bacon...

"So..." She started. "how long will it take Invictus to heal? And after that, what are we supposed to do? How... how do I raise a dragon?"

 

[blaster8]

Mirah smelled food. It was damned good food, too--bacon and eggs! She carefully shimmied through the hole again and made her way down the wall much faster than she'd climbed up. When she reached bottom, she smoothed down playfully ruffled dark hair. The climb felt good, kept her in practice and she took a piece of bacon that had been set aside for her.

She chewed on it thoughtfully for a moment, and swallowed. Mirah couldn't remember the last time she'd had good bacon...

"So..." She started. "how long will it take Invictus to heal? And after that, what are we supposed to do? How... how do I raise a dragon?"

"Well, Invictus is young, and with proper treatment, he should be able to fly within a week. It will be about a month before there are no visible signs of the wound. After that, we train. I'm going to teach you and Invictus everything you need to know about being a dragon/rider pair. You, I will teach to fight with various weapons, including shards of glass," Cris replied, with a small smile on his face to go with the last sentence. "As for Invictus, I may not be a full-blooded dragon, so it will be difficult to teach him, but I will do my best. As for raising a dragon...well, it is not so much as raising like with babies, it is more like," he paused, searching for the right words. "Well, growing up together. He learns from you, you learn from him. He doesn't know much about humans, and you don't know much about dragons. While I will be able to teach both of you, much of what you will learn, you will learn on your own with Invictus."

"Every dragon/rider pair have different experiences, specialties, etc. Some of what I learned with Shela will not apply to you and Invictus. I will teach you and Invictus the basics, giving both of you a good head start against any other dragon/rider pairs that may be out there," continued Cris. He poured two glasses of milk, one for him and one for Mirah. Handing Mirah hers, he sat down and waited for Mirah to respond, hoping, but ready, that she wouldn't be overwhelmed so early in the day.

 

[EHawkins]

"Well, Invictus is young, and with proper treatment, he should be able to fly within a week. It will be about a month before there are no visible signs of the wound. After that, we train. I'm going to teach you and Invictus everything you need to know about being a dragon/rider pair. You, I will teach to fight with various weapons, including shards of glass," Cris replied, with a small smile on his face to go with the last sentence. "As for Invictus, I may not be a full-blooded dragon, so it will be difficult to teach him, but I will do my best. As for raising a dragon...well, it is not so much as raising like with babies, it is more like," he paused, searching for the right words. "Well, growing up together. He learns from you, you learn from him. He doesn't know much about humans, and you don't know much about dragons. While I will be able to teach both of you, much of what you will learn, you will learn on your own with Invictus."

"Every dragon/rider pair have different experiences, specialties, etc. Some of what I learned with Shela will not apply to you and Invictus. I will teach you and Invictus the basics, giving both of you a good head start against any other dragon/rider pairs that may be out there," continued Cris. He poured two glasses of milk, one for him and one for Mirah. Handing Mirah hers, he sat down and waited for Mirah to respond, hoping, but ready, that she wouldn't be overwhelmed so early in the day.

Various weapons?!

Mirah nearly choked on her bacon at that. Her knives had been her nearest and dearest companions over the year and this man expected her to learn others now?

"Do you really think there are other pairs out there? Other Riders?" she said as she cleared her throat.

Somehow, she was relieved at the prospect of not being the only one, but then she frowned. What could she possibly teach Invictus? Everything she knew required her to to be small, fast, agile and quiet. She wondered what sort of speciatly a thief and a youngling dragon could possibly develope...

Mirah looked back at Invictus. He was so young, and until he grew, he'd depend on her.

"Well, I don't know what I could possibly have to teach him, but in the mean time, I guess you'd better start with me."

Her words astounded her as they came out of her mouth. Was she really going to do this? She must. A cold shiver ran through her. If she didn't, she might not survive this new world that she'd been thrown into.

Mirah was suddenly calm, and resolute as though she'd just settled in front of the most difficult lock she'd ever seen. Only now, she wasn't after riches or gold--she was after potential and purpose.

"Where do we begin?"

 

[blaster8]

Various weapons?!

Mirah nearly choked on her bacon at that. Her knives had been her nearest and dearest companions over the year and this man expected her to learn others now?

"Do you really think there are other pairs out there? Other Riders?" she said as she cleared her throat.

Somehow, she was relieved at the prospect of not being the only one, but then she frowned. What could she possibly teach Invictus? Everything she knew required her to to be small, fast, agile and quiet. She wondered what sort of speciatly a thief and a youngling dragon could possibly develope...

Mirah looked back at Invictus. He was so young, and until he grew, he'd depend on her.

"Well, I don't know what I could possibly have to teach him, but in the mean time, I guess you'd better start with me."

Her words astounded her as they came out of her mouth. Was she really going to do this? She must. A cold shiver ran through her. If she didn't, she might not survive this new world that she'd been thrown into.

Mirah was suddenly calm, and resolute as though she'd just settled in front of the most difficult lock she'd ever seen. Only now, she wasn't after riches or gold--she was after potential and purpose.

"Where do we begin?"

Cris was surprised. He hadn't expected this woman to be eager to start so quickly. He figured that she would need time to get to know Invictus, figure things out first. Well, seeing as how she's up to it, we might as well get started, thought Cris

"It's good to see that you're ready for this. I hadn't expected you to throw yourself into this so quickly. As for there being other dragon/rider pairs out there," Cris said, pausing a moment. "Yes, there is at least one other dragon/rider pair out there. They have only just meet, so that puts you and Invictus ahead of them. Keep in mind, Mirah, that this other pair may not be friendly towards you or anyone else. It might come to bloodshed between the two of you. So, that is why you must learn to fight."

"We will begin with you telling me a little about yourself, your strengths, weaknesses, what sort of skills you have. I know already that you are a very accomplished thief, and the skills of a thief include, I believe, stealth and speed. Dragons, especially the big Blacks, are not naturally stealthy. They have to learn to be. That is one of the things you can teach Invictus," continued Cris.

"My dragon, Shela, was a White. That I have already mentioned. But what you don't know is that Whites have a tendency to become frail and weak. That is because they rely on their magic to do things that the other dragons do with their own strength. I had to counter this tendency in Shela. As a farmer's son, I knew the benefits of working with my hands, and as such I was strong, healthy, and fit. I made Shela do things without her magic that she normally would have done with the magic. As a result, she was not frail or weak. She could put up a strong fight against another larger dragon without her magic. In fact, she did. I recall her having taken down a couple of evil Reds, Browns, and even one Black. All of them her equal in size or just slightly more so. None of those dragons expected a White to put up such a fight without magic, so Shela had the element of surprise on her side," finished Cris.

"Now, tell me a little of your skills. What weapons are you already proficient with?" asked Cris

 

[EHawkins]

Cris was surprised. He hadn't expected this woman to be eager to start so quickly. He figured that she would need time to get to know Invictus, figure things out first. Well, seeing as how she's up to it, we might as well get started, thought Cris

"It's good to see that you're ready for this. I hadn't expected you to throw yourself into this so quickly. As for there being other dragon/rider pairs out there," Cris said, pausing a moment. "Yes, there is at least one other dragon/rider pair out there. They have only just meet, so that puts you and Invictus ahead of them. Keep in mind, Mirah, that this other pair may not be friendly towards you or anyone else. It might come to bloodshed between the two of you. So, that is why you must learn to fight."

"We will begin with you telling me a little about yourself, your strengths, weaknesses, what sort of skills you have. I know already that you are a very accomplished thief, and the skills of a thief include, I believe, stealth and speed. Dragons, especially the big Blacks, are not naturally stealthy. They have to learn to be. That is one of the things you can teach Invictus," continued Cris.

"My dragon, Shela, was a White. That I have already mentioned. But what you don't know is that Whites have a tendency to become frail and weak. That is because they rely on their magic to do things that the other dragons do with their own strength. I had to counter this tendency in Shela. As a farmer's son, I knew the benefits of working with my hands, and as such I was strong, healthy, and fit. I made Shela do things without her magic that she normally would have done with the magic. As a result, she was not frail or weak. She could put up a strong fight against another larger dragon without her magic. In fact, she did. I recall her having taken down a couple of evil Reds, Browns, and even one Black. All of them her equal in size or just slightly more so. None of those dragons expected a White to put up such a fight without magic, so Shela had the element of surprise on her side," finished Cris.

"Now, tell me a little of your skills. What weapons are you already proficient with?" asked Cris

"Ready?" Mirah chuckled darkly. "No. No I'm not ready, but I'll do what I have to do."

Inside, she felt cold in the pit of her stomach at the mention of another, possibly violent pair. It sparked the memory of a half remembered dream and it made her ill.

She pushed the thought away as she thought about her life as a thief and the things that she'd learned both tangible and intangible. She was, indeed, stealthy and fast, but there was more to it that made up her thieve's repetoire.

"I'm also agile, and acrobatic." Mirah started. "I can cunningly hide things on my person without notice and hide myself very well. I have a knack for locks... I've become something of an escape artist over the years--I can get myself out of most kinds of bonds. I had a mentor once in my youth called Surin who also moonlighted as an assassin before he was caught and executed. He instructed me in poisons, but I never use them, myself."

"As for weapons? Knives have served me well. They're all I know aside from a bit of hand to hand that was taught to me by Surin. I know I'm not much to look at, strength wise, but it's not how hard you hit someone. It's where you hit them."

Mirah paused for a moment, as she thought about her weaknesses, and smiled wryly.

"My weaknesses?" she said. "We'll just have to find those out as we go, but I can tell you, I'm not too strong--I've never relied on my strength for much of anything. Acrobatics takes strength, but it's a different kind. I couldn't use a heavy weapon, or move or carry something heavy. I don't have raw strength like that."

 

[blaster8]

The Training Begins

"Ready?" Mirah chuckled darkly. "No. No I'm not ready, but I'll do what I have to do."

Inside, she felt cold in the pit of her stomach at the mention of another, possibly violent pair. It sparked the memory of a half remembered dream and it made her ill.

She pushed the thought away as she thought about her life as a thief and the things that she'd learned both tangible and intangible. She was, indeed, stealthy and fast, but there was more to it that made up her thieve's repetoire.

"I'm also agile, and acrobatic." Mirah started. "I can cunningly hide things on my person without notice and hide myself very well. I have a knack for locks... I've become something of an escape artist over the years--I can get myself out of most kinds of bonds. I had a mentor once in my youth called Surin who also moonlighted as an assassin before he was caught and executed. He instructed me in poisons, but I never use them, myself."

"As for weapons? Knives have served me well. They're all I know aside from a bit of hand to hand that was taught to me by Surin. I know I'm not much to look at, strength wise, but it's not how hard you hit someone. It's where you hit them."

Mirah paused for a moment, as she thought about her weaknesses, and smiled wryly.

"My weaknesses?" she said. "We'll just have to find those out as we go, but I can tell you, I'm not too strong--I've never relied on my strength for much of anything. Acrobatics takes strength, but it's a different kind. I couldn't use a heavy weapon, or move or carry something heavy. I don't have raw strenghth like that."

"Nor should you have that sort of strength. It detracts from your strengths. You will see as you progress, that those who rely on brute strength tend to be clumsy. And it is true that it's not how hard you hit someone, it's where you hit them. But sometimes, you need to hit hard in order to do damage, even when hitting the right spots," said Cris. "Take me for example. When you climbed past me earlier, you obviously saw that I wear armor, right? My armor protects the most vital areas on my body: my head, chest, and legs. When fighting someone who is wearing armor, you have to hit the right areas hard. Your knives wouldn't be able to pierce metal armor, like chain mail and plate armor. That is where other weapons come into play."

"This is your first lesson in fighting, so pay attention. Blunt weapons, like war hammers, maces, and even rocks, are good against plate armor. The armor gives some, so swords and other blades would have a hard time getting through. Put enough power behind a blunt object, and you could break bones underneath plate armor. Swords and other blades, like scimtars, are good against leather armor because they just cut right through. Swords, when used properly, and given enough strength, can break plate armor. Spears are another type of weapon. They are usually meant for piercing armor, but could also be used as a blunt object. They could also be thrown for ranged attacks," Cris continued.

"Arrows are good weapons to use when you want to be able to hit someone from a distance. There are different types of arrow heads, each one meant for a different purpose. Chain mail defeats most arrows because of the small holes that the arrowhead can't get through. That is why there is a narrow arrowhead which can get through the holes of most chain mail, save the finest. Arrows can also punch through plate armor when given enough force, at a certain range."

"I'm thinking that short swords and arrows would be good for you, as well as your knives. These weapons are light and tend to be compact. Your specialty is in stealth, so you can sneek through an area, hide in the shadows, and use your arrows to strike your target before you are even seen. The short sword and knives are meant for defense, when your opponent somehow manages to get close to you. Close in, arrows are useless, unless of course, you use them to stab."

"Once I'm through training you, you will have nothing to fear even from those city guardsmen. You will be one of the best swordsmen, er, swordswoman, in the land. You will also be an expert marksmen, able to easily hit your target at a hundred paces," concluded Cris. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get something with which we can train." With that he left, going to his stash further in the cave.

 

[EHawkins]

"Nor should you have that sort of strength. It detracts from your strengths. You will see as you progress, that those who rely on brute strength tend to be clumsy. And it is true that it's not how hard you hit someone, it's where you hit them. But sometimes, you need to hit hard in order to do damage, even when hitting the right spots," said Cris. "Take me for example. When you climbed past me earlier, you obviously saw that I wear armor, right? My armor protects the most vital areas on my body: my head, chest, and legs. When fighting someone who is wearing armor, you have to hit the right areas hard. Your knives wouldn't be able to pierce metal armor, like chain mail and plate armor. That is where other weapons come into play."

"This is your first lesson in fighting, so pay attention. Blunt weapons, like war hammers, maces, and even rocks, are good against plate armor. The armor gives some, so swords and other blades would have a hard time getting through. Put enough power behind a blunt object, and you could break bones underneath plate armor. Swords and other blades, like scimtars, are good against leather armor because they just cut right through. Swords, when used properly, and given enough strength, can break plate armor. Spears are another type of weapon. They are usually meant for piercing armor, but could also be used as a blunt object. They could also be thrown for ranged attacks," Cris continued.

"Arrows are good weapons to use when you want to be able to hit someone from a distance. There are different types of arrow heads, each one meant for a different purpose. Chain mail defeats most arrows because of the small holes that the arrowhead can't get through. That is why there is a narrow arrowhead which can get through the holes of most chain mail, save the finest. Arrows can also punch through plate armor when given enough force, at a certain range."

"I'm thinking that short swords and arrows would be good for you, as well as your knives. These weapons are light and tend to be compact. Your specialty is in stealth, so you can sneek through an area, hide in the shadows, and use your arrows to strike your target before you are even seen. The short sword and knives are meant for defense, when your opponent somehow manages to get close to you. Close in, arrows are useless, unless of course, you use them to stab."

"Once I'm through training you, you will have nothing to fear even from those city guardsmen. You will be one of the best swordsmen, er, swordswoman, in the land. You will also be an expert marksmen, able to easily hit your target at a hundred paces," concluded Cris. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get something with which we can train." With that he left, going to his stash further in the cave.

Cris left Mirah sitting there on the rocks. She watched him go deeper into the cave and frowned. The half dragon had told her so much just then. Some of it was common sense--a sword could pierce lighter armor; heavy armor would turn her knives away... She chewed it over a bit, and commited it to memory...

"Best swordsman and marksmen, eh?", she murmured

It was strange thing for him to say--almost absurd. She never thought she'd see the day when she'd have to pick up a sword. Suddenly she was sad. The way Cris had said "pay attention", reminded her very much of Surin. He was always telling her to pay attention when he taught her. The man was as close to a father as she'd ever had, and she hadn't met anyone like him since.

Mirah sighed. For a moment, she wondered if this still would've happened if she'd lived a normal life. Would Invictus still have found her? Would she still be here with Cris? She really didn't know... The young woman sat there on the rocks next to her sleeping dragon and waited for her new mentor to return. He would be with them for the next week, at least and after that?

What is he going to do? Is he going to stick with us? What is he going to want in return for this?

In her experience, there was nothing free--everything came with a price... She could only wonder at what his might be.

 

[blaster8]

Cris left Mirah sitting there on the rocks. She watched him go deeper into the cave and frowned. The half dragon had told her so much just then. Some of it was common sense--a sword could pierce lighter armor; heavy armor would turn her knives away... She chewed it over a bit, and commited it to memory...

"Best swordsman and marksmen, eh?", she murmured

It was strange thing for him to say--almost absurd. She never thought she'd see the day when she'd have to pick up a sword. Suddenly she was sad. The way Cris had said "pay attention", reminded her very much of Surin. He was always telling her to pay attention when he taught her. The man was as close to a father as she'd ever had, and she hadn't met anyone like him since.

Mirah sighed. For a moment, she wondered if this still would've happened if she'd lived a normal life. Would Invictus still have found her? Would she still be here with Cris? She really didn't know... The young woman sat there on the rocks next to her sleeping dragon and waited for her new mentor to return. He would be with them for the next week, at least and after that?

What is he going to do? Is he going to stick with us? What is he going to want in return for this?

In her experience, there was nothing free--everything came with a price... She could only wonder at what his might be.

At his stash, Cris located his store of weapons and armor. It was quite impressive, considering he has had over a thousand years to collect it. Most of it he had taken from the bodies of his foes, like swords, spears, and other weapons and armor. Some, he had taken from the highwaymen who were foolish enough to stick around after a job and not take their loot to where ever they hid. Those items tended to be rather ornate and finely made, having been taken from rich folk who fell prey to the highwaymen. But none of those items held his pride like the sets of armor that he and Shela had made from the hide of dragons who had fallen before the pair of them. He stood there awhile, admiring the dragon-hide armor, remembering his time with Shela.

Shaking himself out of the reverie, he picked up a pair of poles, the length of swords. In fact, they were made to look like swords including the pommel guard, the piece of the sword that kept other blades from sliding down the length of the sword and slicing off the person's hand. The only difference between these training weapons, and the real deal was that they were wood, and blunt. Sure, they would leave bruises if they made contact, but they couldn't break the skin.

He took these mock swords back and handed one to Mirah saying, "We will start by practicing the standrad attacks and blocks with the swords, as well as the starting fighting stance."

"Place your left foot two shoulder widths behind your right, and one shoulder width left. Straighten the left knee, while keeping the right knee bent. Hold the sword with both hands, with your hands at waist level, and the blade pointing up at an angle. Good," Cris instructed. Cris proceeded to show Mirah each of the basic attacks and blocks with the sword, the overhead strike, the downward diagonal slash, the horizontal slash, and similar blocks. He also threw in the basic foot movements that correspond to the attacks and blocks. He kept this up until she was ready to implement them in a sparing match.

 

[EHawkins]

At his stash, Cris located his store of weapons and armor. It was quite impressive, considering he has had over a thousand years to collect it. Most of it he had taken from the bodies of his foes, like swords, spears, and other weapons and armor. Some, he had taken from the highwaymen who were foolish enough to stick around after a job and not take their loot to where ever they hid. Those items tended to be rather ornate and finely made, having been taken from rich folk who fell prey to the highwaymen. But none of those items held his pride like the sets of armor that he and Shela had made from the hide of dragons who had fallen before the pair of them. He stood there awhile, admiring the dragon-hide armor, remembering his time with Shela.

Shaking himself out of the reverie, he picked up a pair of poles, the length of swords. In fact, they were made to look like swords including the pommel guard, the piece of the sword that kept other blades from sliding down the length of the sword and slicing off the person's hand. The only difference between these training weapons, and the real deal was that they were wood, and blunt. Sure, they would leave bruises if they made contact, but they couldn't break the skin.

He took these mock swords back and handed one to Mirah saying, "We will start by practicing the standrad attacks and blocks with the swords, as well as the starting fighting stance."

"Place your left foot two shoulder widths behind your right, and one shoulder width left. Straighten the left knee, while keeping the right knee bent. Hold the sword with both hands, with your hands at waist level, and the blade pointing up at an angle. Good," Cris instructed. Cris proceeded to show Mirah each of the basic attacks and blocks with the sword, the overhead strike, the downward diagonal slash, the horizontal slash, and similar blocks. He also threw in the basic foot movements that correspond to the attacks and blocks. He kept this up until she was ready to implement them in a sparing match.

A short sword was just a bigger knife, right? Mirah told herself.

She took the practice sword from Cris's hand. It was smooth and worn with age and it felt awkward in her small hands. Her feet shuffled into the positions that the half-dragon told her. She made sure her hands were in the right places, and took a deep breath.

How many times did you fall when you missed a jump, or when Surin ran you around the city, teaching you how to dodge, weave and evade? It'll be no different here...

Mirah slowly went through the over head strike, the downward diagonal slash, the horizontal slash, and the blocks as Cris showed her. She cursed as she tripped over the footing for each. She stopped for a moment, annoyed. She was a graceful acrobat, yet she couldn't get her feet to move the way he showed her!

"Damn it...", Mirah muttered as she took up the wooden sword again, determined to master the awkward movements and the footing.

 

[blaster8]

A short sword was just a bigger knife, right? Mirah told herself.

She took the practice sword from Cris's hand. It was smooth and worn with age and it felt awkward in her small hands. Her feet shuffled into the positions that the half-dragon told her. She made sure her hands were in the right places, and took a deep breath.

How many times did you fall when you missed a jump, or when Surin ran you around the city, teaching you how to dodge, weave and evade? It'll be no different here...

Mirah slowly went through the over head strike, the downward diagonal slash, the horizontal slash, and the blocks as Cris showed her. She cursed as she tripped over the footing for each. She stopped for a moment, annoyed. She was a graceful acrobat, yet she couldn't get her feet to move the way he showed her!

"Damn it...", Mirah muttered as she took up the wooden sword again, determined to master the awkward movements and the footing.

"Just so you know, these movements I am showing you now are formalities. If you stop and go through these movements in a fight, you won't last. In fight, everything changes. When you get to a decent level, your movements will flow together. In a fight, you have no time to stop and think about what you are doing, you just do. Your acrobatic skills may even come in handy in a fight. The reason you are going through these movements now is so that you have a foundation from which to build your skills. Every fighter has a different style. I have mine, you'll have yours. In a fight, you can't just flail away with the sword, you must finesse it, while moving quickly, avoiding the attacks of your opponent, analyzing his own style, finding his weak points," Cris said.

"But for now, just concentrate on the movements. Don't worry about what a fight will be like. There will be plenty of time for that later," continued Cris. "Concentrate on the sword. See it as an extention of yourself. Feel, don't think. Continue."

 

[Optimas]

Shargnal the Goblin Warlock

Shargnal burnt. His whole body sizzled as the magic powered through him. He laughed, feeling the energy crackle and spark across the night sky in great streaks of lightening. He was tall and spindly for a goblin about 6 foot, with sharp features and long nose, most noticeably he only had one ear.

Shargnal was the ruler of the Goblin clans of the south, and a vile murderous individual. Many a goblin has died at the end of his poisoned blades before he became adept in the dark arts of the blood magic. He studied long and hard under the watchful eye of the dark orc Boss Grimstone, he found he had a natural link with the dark arts. Soon Shargnal became the most feared leader for 300 years.

When doing a blood letting (a sacrificial blood pool that allows visions of the future to be seen) shargnal saw the desruction of the land by a mighty green army as far as you could see. He led the hoarde astride a most fearsome beast. A giant skeletal dragon bigger than even the mighty Arganoth of the south. Nothing but death followed in the wake of the mighty army.

Sharganal came to his senses and stopped the spell, he relaxed and looked at the giant dragon body that lay before him, why did the spells not work. Arganoth had not died easily he mused, such power does not just peeter out, it burns up, he looked over the camp. The camp had been set by the cave entrance, when they had been tipped off to the location. He had wanted to catch the dragon unaware but did not bank on a troublesome goblin. There was something that annoyed and worried Shargnal greatly about the goblin still being alive, but he could not put his finger on it.

A Giant white wolf padded up to Shargnal and hung his head low - "masterr we lose scent up middle countrrry." The wolf found speech hard, but he could sense his master was displeased.
"You what, I send the pack of seekers and you loose him, where?" Sharganal eyes were ablaze and his black robe fluttered behind him, he spoke a dead language and the wolf howled in pain as one of his eyes turned to a black rock. "Never mind you will pay the price. . . one eye, now tell the others he must be found, or I will skin you all alive, Now go."The wolf turned and skulked away his vision halved and the same with his spirit.

Shargnal breathed deeply, oh how he loved suffering, once he found out the spell that would bring forth the DEMON DRAGON the whole land would be awash with woe. I need to freshen up, I will have a feast and maybe a female or two, he turned and left the dragon carcass stinking in the night breeze and moved deeper into the camp that grew day by day.

(ooc Hope this is ok for every one? If not I can take it out)