Charas-Project
Off-Topic => Archive => RP Board => Topic started by: Dragonium on August 19, 2006, 09:09:53 PM
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I'm so bored, I felt like starting a good old fashioned RP.
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This is a world in turmoil.
Dragons, they call them. Wyrms, in the Old Tongue. The lowest form of existence, visited upon society as a plague, a curse. A pestilence upon the very soil we work for a living.
They come into our villages. Thirty feet, most of them. And those are the small ones. With a wingspan that can cast a shadow over a small town and breath which could scorch through thick steel, these "Dragons" are the ultimate predators. They do not discriminate. They take women, children, the elderly, all to feed their brood. And every few years, they multiply. Many people are losing hope.
There are those who would slay these Dragons. The Dragon Hunters, as they choose to be known. They wield their weapons with complacence and pride, daring to stride forth and say that they alone will wrest the world from the Dragons' talons.
They usually die first.
Somewhere there lies an underground society, say the people with the knowledge. The Slayers' Circle, a band of hunters who are imbued with the Seed of Ages (The seed of the Yggdrasil tree, said to bring unnaturally long life), and have become expert in the slaying of these dragons. They recruit their members by selection, not from volunteers. They live secretive lives. And though they die sometimes from being unfortunate in their trade, there are a number who still live...
Dragons are tough. Even the professionals struggle to slay them.
And still, the Dragons grow in number. Soon, mankind in this world will be overwhelmed, and the Dragons may well become dominant. Some say they have an agenda, an intelligence more complex than man's, which allows them to strive for their goal. Whatever that is, nobody knows.
But we all must pray that soon, a band of heroes may find a way to destroy this vile plague and save us all from a fiery end.
(Yeah, it's all a bit Reign of Fire, but it'll unfold more as we progress)
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The usual RP rules apply. Any group is acceptable: characters can be Slayer's Circle members, self-employed Hunters, or other types. One character per player or it gets confusing. No Godmodding, etc. Story style writing please. Don't control other people's players. It's a Medieval, Fantasy setting, so no guns or futuristic stuff. Try to be professional about it. And please use good grammar. (Mini list of rules over :D)
Oh, and I don't care how tough your character is, you can't kill a Dragon in one hit, or without getting hit first. No Godmodding. :)
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Name: Dragonium.
Age: 510 (Prolonged by Seed of Ages).
Gender: Male.
Height: 6'1.
Race: Human.
Class: DragonSlayer.
Personality: Emotional, cynical, reckless in battle.
Weapons and Gear: Large two-handed Greatsword, ancient and sharp, known simply as a Slayer Blade. Wears full plate armour in a similar ornate style, with a helmet in the style of a Dragon's skull (The trademark helm of the Slayers' Circle). Hair is allowed to flow freely from beneath helmet. When fully armoured and wearing helmet, only the mouth of the wearer is visible. Also wears brown leather gloves and a bronze ring given to him by a friend.
Skills: No specific skills as such, but many years of education has left him able to bring down a Dragon alone, providing luck is on his side.
Affiliation/Organisation: The Slayers' Circle.
Strengths: One-on-one combat, battling Dragons, using heavy weapons.
Weaknesses: Combat against numerous enemies, escaping from battle (Prefers to stand and fight rather than run), tends to be unlucky. As a side-effect of the Seed of Ages, he can quickly lose his cool in emotional situations.
Biography: A social outcast, Dragonium (Or Draa, as he was once known) was forced to earn a living on the farm or die on the Plains. While toiling on the land, he trained in the art of the sword with a friend. One day, while the two were training after a long day's work, a female Dragon, looking to feed her starving brood, swooped down on the farmland in a blaze of claws and fangs. Draa's friend was killed instantly, and Draa narrowly escaped death, earning himself a wound to his side while he did so. As the Dragon moved in to secure her meal, Draa used his last remaining strength to hoist his sword. The predator leaned in too eagerly towards the raised blade, and fell hard upon its tip, impaling itself and winning nothing but a quick death.
Draa awoke some time later, in the hall of the Slayers' Circle. Finding that a Circle mage had healed his wounds, he thanked the group, though still in mourning for his friend. In return, the Circle asked that he joined them, imbuing him with the Seed of Ages. He was thereby trained to slay Dragons, and his life as a Slayer began.
Description/Appearance: Tall and fairly muscular. Has long crimson hair tied into a ponytail. Wears armour much of the time.
(Sorry, long character intro. Omit details as you see fit)
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Dragonium reached for his blade.
The sky was a shade of piercing white, and it made his head swim. It was far too early.
After a lengthy struggle with his will, he opened his eyes. He was facing the sky, and that was never good. He sat up. The Plains opened wide around him, seemingly having no horizon. He would have stayed to enjoy the view if it weren't for more pressing business.
All around him, the ground was scorched and burnt. Apparently, he was lying in the centre of a ring of blackened grass. Damn, he thought to himself, That's never a good place to be lying. His legs felt as though they were rooted to the ground; he struggled to lift his weight off the ground, and almost fell back down when he tried to stand.
Finally he was able to look around. The ring of burnt grass was actually a teardrop shape, and he immediately set off in the direction of the point. That was always the way they made off, and he hoped dearly he'd managed to land a good hit before the flames hit him.
It wasn't so much the heat. He was used to that. It was the acrid, acid fumes which caught his throat and had him on the floor retching. Easy prey.
He crested a rise, and saw his quarry in the valley below. It was a good hundred feet away, but Dragons had incredible senses, and he would have been heard by now. It didn't move, and he knew it was dead.
Dragonium felt very pleased with himself. He hadn't noticed when it had been trying to tear him limb from limb, but it was a big one.
He came down the slope to where it lay. It was probably fifty feet long, though thirty of those were its tail. It had a long, thin snout, bathed in small red scales, like the rest of its body. He thought back to his training. What were these ones called? Ah, yes. Firemaw. Red Firemaw. Probably a male. It certainly had the wingspan to show for it. Impressive.
For a dwindling moment, he thought it looked almost sad, in its face. But no, that was stupid. They didn't feel sadness, he thought. Only anger. Blind rage.
Besides, there was no point dwelling on it. One dead Dragon, twenty more innocent lives spared. If only there was a way to do it without risking his life every single time.
But he knew that would never happen.
He climbed the slope, looked back down at his kill, and couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched.
(That's me for tonight. Get postin'. :D)
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Name: Saint
Age: Mind: unknown. Body: 2
Gender: Male
Race: Grown
History: An ancient mage, he was a good man, but was obsessed with discovering eternal life. He was instrumental in discovering the seed of ages but wanted a permanant solution. In answer to this, he eventually learned to create a new body for himself every few hundred years, and transfer his mind to the new body. Over many of these transfers his mind has become incresingly unstable. As can be seen by his 'body age', he last transferred roughly two years ago.
Appearance: Although his body is two years old, he created it fully grown to his specifications, and thus he appears about nineteen. The only indication of his inhuman nature are his grey hair and deep purple eyes.
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Saint stood silently on a scortched hill, waiting patiently for the dragon hunter to leave. Only then did he descend and walk up to the lifeless corpse.
"Beautiful. But were you so wronged?"
He knelt by the dragon's head and placed his cheek against it's nose. "You mustn't be hard on him. You know he does what he must to protect his people." Saint's brown robes began to dampen with his tears. Then, suddenly angered by his weakness, he stood and struck the dragon's corpe with his booted foot. Then he composed himself. "You're dead you know" he noted. "The human must be doing something right."
-
Dragonium wandered back along the path he had taken to get here.
He could see the scorched ring where he had returned to consciousness, a shimmering black shadow on the horizon. It would be ten minutes walk until he got within visual distance of the village, Serradee. And then it would be another half hour until he could get to his room and sit down.
The midday sun was beating down in full force, and he felt as though he would be walking for a long time yet. The ground was baked dry from weeks of hot weather, and his feet were hurting already. Eventually he gave up, stuck his sword in the ground, and sat down in a heap.
He had his hip-flask with him, and he took a long draught of its contents. He shuddered. The cask at the Slayers' Den was old and unused, and the ale within was stagnant as a swamp. Certainly it refreshed him, and he did not mind the bitter taste or the fermented smell, but he absolutely refused to swallow it. God knew what was swimming about in it. He let it flow over his tongue for a moment, took in the taste, and then spat it out onto the ground.
Now would be a good time for a snack, he thought. Just something to keep his energy up. Searching with his hand, he found his knapsack on his back, and swung it about to reach into it.
Empty. There was a gaping hole singed in the bottom of the leather bag. Some fibres were broken at the edges of the burn, though they seemed not to have been burnt through.
Slowly he pieced together the clues. The Firemaw that had dived on him must have burnt a hole in the sack, but it had not broken. When he was descending the slope twenty minutes back, the blasted hide must finally have given out. Which meant that all his provisions were lying alongside the Dragon, down at the bottom of the valley.
He lifted his sword and turned, setting off back in the direction of the valley. As he began to walk, something caught his eye. Off in the distance a large shadow was circling in the sky. A Dragon, certainly. But the way it circled about worried him greatly. He had seen enough Dragon behaviour to know that Dragons only did that when they had their prey spotted, on the ground. It was then that they decided what to do. Firemaws tended to attack first with a diving blast of Dragon-Flame. Other types would fly down and maul their quarry.
Whatever it was, it had its victim spotted, and that meant he had to do all he could to help the situation.
It was a long walk, but still...
Dragonium took another draught from his hip-flask, spat the putrid alcohol onto the ground beside the first mouthful, and strode forth in the direction of the valley.
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Name: Bowen
Age: 38
Gender: Male.
Height: 6'0.
Race: Human.
Class: Dragon hunter.
Personality: Strong mind, fearless, loner (That's a bad quality, fearless is too in a kinda way. It makes people act foolish sometimes.)
Weapons and Gear: An Excalibur Longsword, made for one hand and two hand fighting. Based on tales about the sword of the great king Arthur, Excalibur, Bowen has crafted the Excalibur Longsword along with a group of specialists. The Longsword is made from the strongest steel there is, but also from the one that's the lightests. It's sharp like knife through butter and light as a feather, the lenght of the blade is just on the edge of being to big for one hand, but the lightness makes it capeable to use it in one hand. Because of this, Bowen has a great adventage. He has a shield with him, made from the same metal as his sword, to protect him in battle. If the need is there, he can simple toss away his shield and use his sword with two hands.
Other than his weapons, Bowen wears only light to medium armor. He knows armor isn't going to help against a dragon's breath so he decided to keep it light so he can dodge attacks better.
Skills: No special skills, he knows how to fight extremely well with a one hand and two handed sword and use a shield and has experience at fighting dragons, but that's it.
Affiliation/Organisation: None.
Strengths: Dragons, one on one/two/three, swords.
Weaknesses: His fearless personality makes him act foolish sometimes, he also has a problem with fighting women (finds it not honorfull to kill a woman). He's a loner, so he also tends to prefer to fight and travel alone, except when the need to help is high.
Biography:
Sir Bowen was a soldier, a fighter befriended with the king. Bowen would often protect and watch over Einon, the son of the king. He thought Einon the old code and swordfighting. On one raid of a village, where Bowen stood with Einon on a hill overlooking the battle, the king fell. Einon foolishly rood to his father's corpse but fell of his horse and a spike impaled him and heavily damaged his hearth. There was still a change for Einon though. Einon's mother along with Bowen and a few soldiers took his body to Draco, who split his own heart so the prince could live. However, after his resurrection, the prince became a cruel tyrant once he became the new king. Bowen decided that the dragon's heart made Einon evil, and set out to destroy the entire dragonkin. On his journey, Bowen met a monk, Brother Gilbert of Glockenspur, who wanted to write down events of Bowen's life as a dragon hunter. Brother Gilbert travels with Bowen ever since, but never joins the battle. Most of the times he's in the nearby village, finding out about new dragons for Bowen to hunt down, a place to stay the night, getting food and drinks and all the other stuff Bowen has little time for while tracking down the dragons.
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Yar, mixing into Reign of Fire (Which Drag obviously leans towards) is Dragonhearth, one of the best dragon movies ever. Now, these two excellent and outstanding movies together will make one awesome story.
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"A village, finally a village!" Brother Gilbert spoke with joy. Gilbert's eyes were sparkling with tears of happiness, for finally they had found a village. A place to rest from their endless journeying, a place to relax the old feet and to feast down on delicious food in a pub.
"Finally after eight days Bowen! We can rest again!"
"True my ol' friend, true. Well Gilbert, if you'll be so kind to find my horse and your mule a stable for the night, I'll try to find us a nice inn and a pub." Bowen said to Gilbert whiles dismounting his horse.
"Aye. I'll find our companions a nice stable. Will do them some good."
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Name: Haku
Age: 22
Gender: Male.
Height: 5'10
Race: Human
Class: Ensign
Personality: Quiet, determined, perceptive, analytical
Weapons and Gear: Between medium and heavy armor, sprayed with flame-retardent to help defend against dragon. Lance while riding horse, katana on foot.
Skills: Telekinesis
Alignment: Light
Attribute: Wind
Biography: Married at age 19 in secret, ran from home and joined the royal guard, where he graduated within the top 16th in his class. Disbanned shortly after graduation for disobeying superior officers. Often trains in his spare time, while trying to maintan a small farm to support his wife and son. Occasionally takes small-time mercenary jobs to make ends meet.
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"I'll come back. I promise," Haku said quietly to Kiya. "It won't be like last time. I'm much stronger now. And besides, we need the money to get Kashi through his schooling."
"I know we need the money, but I still hate it when you take these hunting jobs. I nearly died when I saw how badly you were hurt on your last job."
"Don't worry. I'll be back in two weeks, at the max. It's just a small infestation up on the other side of the ridge. It's nothing to worry about. I just go into the cave, slay some of the Wyrms, and collect my fee. Nothing to it. I've done it a dozen times."
"Alright. But be careful. And take your armor this time."
"Of course." Haku walked slowly through the cottage, stopping to look out the only window in the house, to gaze out at his son playing with his small dog, Yoshi. Something to stay alive for.
Slowly, Haku donned the old armor he had earned three years earlier from his training in the Royal Guard. He winced, still feeling the deep cut that still burned in his left shoulder. That won't happen this time, he thought through the stinging sensation that was slowly starting to course through his body.
"I'm ready," he said to no one in particular. Pacing himself, he crossed the length of the house and stepped out the door, circling around the house to the small stable jutting out from the side of the house. His horse, Jade, was waiting for him. Kiya must have gotten her ready for me, he thought to himself.
Haku noticed the two strangers coming down from the opposite hill. Perhaps if they were here when he got back, he would talk with them about their travels. But for now, there was business to attend to.
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I think it's best if I clear some things up before we continue.
1) I'm not basing the story off any movies. I mentioned Reign of Fire because after writing the story I re-read it and noticed it sounded a little like Reign of Fire, but in a different setting. It's not taken from anything. Like a wise man once said, "When two men wear the same robes, they do not wear the same titles". Or something.
2) We're using a fantasy setting. By this reasoning, places from our world (i.e. Camelot) wouldn't be included. If you want to make up the name of a town or country for this RP, that's perfectly fine. It's good if we can all shape the world. :D
3) Original characters only please. We want it to be fun and not copied from anywhere, and it's best if we're not always thinking, "Hold on, that never happened in the movie".
Drace, you can use that character. That's fine. However, would you mind tweaking your story to omit the Dragonheart details? (Camelot, Draco, etc.). We're using a different idea of dragons here, so Draco wouldn't fit in. Like I say, original characters. Apart from that, everything's fine.
Since I'm here I'd better make a post.
(EDIT: Typos removed)
~~~~~~~~~~
He reached the valley after a brisk stroll, and ensuring he had his sword at the ready, he descended into the valley.
For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw another person standing by the Dragon's corpse, but instead of investigating closer he dismissed the thought and gathered up his fallen provisions. Once he had everything secured in the pouches on his belt, he climbed the slope.
As he reached the top and looked around to get his bearings, the Dragon sailed overhead in the direction of the village.
Dragonium cursed, feeling panic rising in his chest, lifted his sword and set off behind the flying creature.
This couldn't be good.
-
Saint gazed upon Haku with slight interest. Here was a man who thought he knew his path. His many years had taught him surprisingly little -This could be told from a glance- but Saint had a feeling that the man would have a part to play in the unfolding story.
Saint turned and walked away from the town. For now, another part of the story was unfolding elsewhere, and as always he would be present to witness it. Fallen leaves whipped around his feet as he steadily made his way towards the Wyrm infestation on a nearby mountain. Where predators gather, surely the hunter shall as well.
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Name: Crag Onmar
Age: 300 (Due to Seed of Ages)
Gender: Male.
Height: 5'11"
Race: Human.
Class: DragonSlayer.
Personality: Good-hearted, cynical at times. A loner
Weapons and Gear: Heavy-class armor. But with the metal it is made from it does not wear as much as heavy armor so movement is still good, but not great. A greatsword that has been in his family for ages. And a crossbow, used only when first sighting a dragon or when they are flying.
Skills: Very good at one-on-one combat. Also good at using ranged weapons.
Affiliation/Organisation: The Slayers' Circle.
Strengths: Good-hearted so wants to always help, strong and good with his weapons.
Weaknesses: Trying to help all the time, and gets into trouble with older members of the Slayer's Circle
Biography: He does not recall his past days as they are from away from him now. He does remember that his village had been burned down by a huge onix colored dragon. He has yet to find the name of it, nor battle a dragon like that. He is also one of the younger memebers of the order, so his tends to be lectured alot. Due to this he sometimes uses his own judgement of always having to help, and does not remember nor follow the elder member's rules.
Description/Appearance: Hair is a dark brown, as well as his eyes. Some say he has "wild eyes", this may be due to the tragedy he faced before becoming a member. His skin has been tanned and scorched from many battles with dragons and being in the sun, so his has a dark color skin. Being a loner he often fights alone, this can be bad but he does it anyway. His armor is stained red from the bloof of many battles, but the original color is ebony.
========================================
Crag awakes from his slumber.
"Ahh, 'tis a new day. I wonder if that dragon will attack today."
He starts to reminisce about the day his village burned.His mind starts to slowly drift back to when he was 15. He sits wincing as the screams of mothers and daughers ring thorugh his ear, people funning. Everything is being burned, houses collapse with people still inside. He remembers his father coming by on a horse and picking him up. They rode off away from the screams of his freinds. As he sits on the saddle with his father he hopes that his friends have gotten out alive. All he rememebers after that is falling asleep,leaning on his father. It was the last day he would ever see his friends again.
Even though he is 300 years old, that is one memory that is still vivid in his mind.
"Bah, I will have that dragon's head one day."
*There is a knocking on his dor*
"Yes? what is it?"
"Dragon sited around the town of Bjorn, you have been sent to dispatch it", says a messenger of the Circle.
"What kind?",Crag questions eagerly.
"We are not sure, the boy who came to us with the call was in too much shock to describe it"
"Alright, well, I shall leave at once"
With that he gathers his crossbow, sword and armor. As well as other provisions he may need. And with that sets off towrads Bojn, feeling that this may be the day he can get his revenge on that dragon.
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(Corey, I'm finding it quite disturbing that the way you described the Slayers' Circle is exactly how I originally invented it. :))
~~~~~~~~~~
Dragonium carried on running.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed. Nor was he aware of the breathlessness he had to endure. That was the usual feeling; not being able to run any more, and yet being unable to stop. A Dragon going for a well-populated village was a rare occurence, since they usually attacked travellers, warriors, traders, but it was not unheard of. He cursed under his breath. He hated it when they did that. How dare they?!
He really hated Dragons.
Dragonium knew that one of the reasons the Circle picked its members was their utmost hatred of Dragonkind. And that wasn't fair. A man who hates another man can live his life alongside his bitter enemy. But when his enemy is an entire species, common as the proverbial worms that they were - that just wasn't fair.
The group was a small one. A hundred members spread around the world. And they spent a lot of time together, considering the Seed. They were close, certainly. A few rivalries built up on occasion. A missed attack here, a stolen kill their. But on the whole, nobody cared who won out so long as the Dragon was dead.
The Dragon reached the town, and for once Dragonium was able to get a decent look at it. The scales were white on first glance, but with a lustrous tint to them which shimmered in the sun. Its snout was shorter than that of a Firemaw, and had a distinctly square edge to it. Its tail was the most prominent feature of its figure; long, wider at the end and adorned with a fierce array of sharp spikes.
Thorntip. Female. And if one was attacking a village, it was very hungry.
Charging a hungry Thorntip head on would mean certain death. Dragonium hoped dearly that there weren't any fool Dragon-hunters in the village who fancied trying their luck. Idiots. He hated them almost as much as the Dragons. What, he was protecting them from ever having to fight a Dragon, so they'd just go out and get themselves killed?
That wasn't fair either.
He reached the village as the Dragon circled overhead. It wouldn't attack until it had a target picked out, which was fortunate.
"Get inside", he called, hoisting his sword and waiting for the villagers to scatter and run into their houses. That was the safest place for them to be, which wasn't saying much.
A few people drew their swords and looked up at the Dragon circling overhead. Damn hunters. They'd be dead very soon if they didn't get inside.
A door opened close by and a familiar face stepped out. Crag Onmar, one of the members of the Circle he shared a particular friendship with, despite his relatively young age. "Crag", he gasped, still breathless from the sprint to the village, "I understand if you have other business, but for now let's make sure Serradee doesn't end up as a pile of rubble".
Crag nodded and smiled.
Lifting his sword onto his shoulder, Dragonium looked up at the Dragon, and then around at the assorted people still on the streets. There was a warrior and a monk a little way up the road, a warrior who had just stepped out of a house nearby, and a young grey-haired man who seemed to be leaving, and appeared to be unarmed.
"These people aren't shifting", he sighed. "Come on Crag, let's show 'em how real DragonSlayers fight".
-
(Haha, wow that is kinda weird)
=======================
After stepping through the door and seeing Drag there, Crag knew something wasn't right. There must be a dragon here.
While unsheathing his sword Crag thought to himself,"How did I sleep through a buch of people screaming? That dragon must have come while I had that flashback and the screams from the village must have mixed into my flashback."
"Dragonium, why do these "Hunters" insist on tyring to fight dragons the wrong way?"
Dragonium just laughed.
"Wait, Dragonium, you run ahead and I will go behind the dragon and start shooting it with my crossbow,to distract it, while you get those two out of here."
Dragonium just nodded. The plan was set. Not a sure-fire plan but you can't really have an exact plan when fighting a hungry dragon. They set off to their posistions, Crag found a good spot below the dragon and readied his crossbow. The dragon has yet to pick a target.
"I won't give that filthy beast a chance!"
And with that fires one of his arrows. But Crag's arrows are special, half-way to their target and it splits into four. Gives a must greater chance to hit a dragon.
The arrow has split and the dragon makes a loud roar.
"Yes, atleast one of my arrows hit it."
Crag looks and sees that the dragon has started to desecend, it chose the perfect target. Him.
"Now starts the real fun."
Crag unsheathes his sword, may this be the final time or not, who knows.
-
Dragonium nodded again for confirmation. Crag might be one of the younger Slayers, he thought, but he certainly knew how to hold his own until reinforcements arrived. Thorntips weren't too tough when the Slayer was in an enclosed space. If you survived the Dragon's initial diving attack, they were just big lizards. With big spikes all over them.
It was a dangerous business. You had to learn fast, or you were dead.
He ran to the group of assembled warriors. "I don't have time to explain, but you should get to cover. I don't care who you are, how skilled you are, or what reasons you have for fighting. Get moving. Now". With that, he turned and ran back to where Crag stood, ready.
He looked up to where the Dragon had got to. It was roughly half way through its dive, and he could see the tail spikes and talons bristling, ready to hack and claw and gouge. Crag was ready. Fortunate. Though if he could defend against that properly, with all the desperation of a hungry Dragon, he was very lucky.
Dragonium lifted his sword again and ran to a hidden position at the the corner of the house. When the Dragon got close to the floor as it made its dive, it would be within range for a counter-attack.
He couldn't kill it in one strike. Nor could anyone. But he'd be damned if he'd abandon Crag to fight alone.
He sighed and steadied his grip. Time for action.
-
Name: Singhin Kirsehn
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Height: 5' 9"
Race: Human
Class: Slayer Knight
Personality: Stern, overly rational
Weapons and Gear: The equipment Singhin posesses is minimal, for when one is in a business such as his, being burdened
with frivolrous items is nothing but a hassle. Of course he is equipped with the standard armor one needs for such a job. Its
steel complexion is littered with dirt and grime which dulls the gilded trim adorning each individual plate. Small bits of
gravel and md have worked their way within some of the joints of the armor, inhibiting the speed if his motion, particular in
his left arm. Hanging from his left hip is a blade slightly smaller than the average broadsword, Allowing it to be used in one
hand. Dried blood is caked along the steel, the hide of the grip permanently stained the deep red color of the death. WHile the
back of the tasset of the armor seems like any other plate, it was designed with intention for use of a shield, detaching from
the rest when needed. A gold crucifix adorns the left pauldron, the single icon which identifies himself to the guild. Hanging
from his right hip is a small satchel made from the intestine of one of his victims, the thick leather protecting its components
inside rather well from the average wear and tear. When needed, an old battered and burned cloak, with a pin in the form of the
Guilds icon, is draped over his shoulders. For maximum efficiency, on his hands are black finger less gloves, heavily padded on the palm of his grip, allowing him to grip his blade without destroying his hands.
Skills: Swordsmanship, guild techniques
Affiliation/Organisation: The Guild
Strengths: Can plan out entire battles from the beginning to hopefully ensure himself the least bodily harm
Weaknesses: Overly rational, thinks things out too thoroughly. Tends to pass up opportunities believing them to be chaos
in disguise.
Biography: A simple city child for the early stages of his life, he always felt like he was meant to do something
important, something from which the others of the world could benefit from. He grew up in the northern city of Knowls, a city
few go to, including hunters. One day, when Singhin was roughly 11 years old, soemthing occured which cemented his decision of
what his life would mean. A wyvern, a smaller species of dragon, no match for a trained hunter, attacked the city. Of course,
this was a smaller city, and without anyone with proper training around, the wyvern caused massive property and human damage.
His family made it out alive, and for the next for years, his life was a constant debate with them on his decision to become a
hunter.
Luckily, his chance came near the end of his fifthteenth year. A wandering hunter by the name of Glosnust came through
the city. The citizens praised his arrival, and paid him handsomely to dispatch the wyvern that had been plauging them for
years. Of course, he quickly defeated it, collecting his pay and moving on rather quickly. Singhin begged and pleaded him to
allow him to come, citing his experience since childhood with a sword. WHile he had been using a sword for many years, without a
proper trainer his abilities were unbalanced at best. Glosnust turned him down, claiming that the hunters way of life was
neither a happy nor an easy one, but this did not deter Singhin. When HGlosnust left out, Singhin followed him, carrying nothing
but what he had worn that morning.
For 2 weeks he followed Glosnust, scrounging whatever he found on his way, waiting for
Glosnust to acknowledge him. Seventeen days later, he did. Glosnust agreed to take him and train him, teaching him the art of
slaying dragons. Until the age of 20 he traveled with him, slaying dragons alongside his master, learning and growing in the
skill. One day, they took a job with a royal member from an unknown bloodline to defeat a dragon plauging one of his
territories. They took this job, but during the fight Glosnust was dealt a lethal wound. Calling Singhin to his side, he pulled
the cross off his own pauldron, and in handing it to SInghin told him where he could find the headquarters of the Guild, and if
he showed them the icon, he could join their ranks. Congratulating Singhin on his abilities to become a hunter, he shortly died,
leaving SInghin on his own.
Alone, he journeyed to the Guild, wearing the armor his master had crafted for him many years ago.
After finding the headquarters, and proving himself to be pupil of Glosnust, he was accepted into the guild, placing the cross
on his own pauldron, marking his status as an official dragon hunter. Once he had entered the ranks of the guild, he was allowed
to train himself in even more skills exclusive to its hunters. He was taught the techniques developed by its founder known as
"Shining tehniques".
These techniques, usually used by channeling energies through ones blade, can harness light and energy into
an attack which can often give one the upper edge. Unfortuantely, these techniques require much focus, as well as much energy
from within the summoner, leaving them to be used as a last resort.
Description/Appearance: Singhins hair hangs down to the bottom of his neck in the back, with bangs reaching just below
his dark brown eyes, but parted to the right so he may see visibly during the day. Like many other members of the Guild, his
hair has been dyed a deep purple using a process only known by the Guild itself. His face is always a stern look, rarely
faltering to express even the mst minute amount of joy.
The Guild: While the SLayer's Circle is most likely the most known and influential group of slayers, there are many other
organizations, many with members of the same strengths. The Guild is one of these. With a formation date unknown to even its
leaders, for centuries it has taken in hunters, training them to be its knights, to serve and to honor the ways of their
brotherhood. Membership however, is just as exclusive as the Circle, with member counts barely breaching 400. But unlike the
Circle, they do allow applications, but due to its secrecy in intself, very few non-members even know of the Guild, much less
how to apply.
(I'll wait to post for a second if yeh don't mind)
================================
-
Haku woke slowly. The fatigue from his ascent had taken its toll both mentally and physically. His head was still swimming when he saw the commotion going on. A massive dragon, spikes adorning its spine, swooping at the ground and an occasional jet of flames. How? Haku wondered. He had made it half-way up the mountain, only to have to turn back around.
But as Haku started to scramble for his equipment, he noticed the dragon's behaviour. Instead of sweeping random victims into its large claws and scorching anything that moved, it appeared to be focused on one particular area. Or, more spefically, one person. Apparently, someone had already engaged the dragon in combat. Or it had found its first victim.
There was nothing he could do but watch, as a sprint back down the mountain would prove effectively useless. By the time he got there, the dragon would either be dead, have fled, or have burned his village to the ground.
Suddenly, the dragon recoiled sharply, as if stabbed in some part of its body. Somebody had wounded it. Hopefully. Only a few moments later, it jerked again, flew behind the monastery, and disappeared from Haku's sight. There was some small movement, as two figures closed in on it. Nothing to do but hope for the best, Haku thought slowly. If they were real dragon slayers, born and trained for this line of work, the dragon would be dead momentarily. If not, the village, along with its people would be several minutes later.
Slowly, Haku resumed outfitting his armor. Another few hours, and he would be at the top of the mountain. On the other side, the cave supposedly filling with Wyrms. He checked his large satchel. One filled with provisions, food and bandages, prepared by his humble wife. The other.... if the monk had been correct, it would collapse the cave, leaving the dragons no place to settle anywhere near here until they found a new cavern large enough to colonize. And that could take months.
As he tied the last length of ribbon around his armor, he looked back to the village. It was still there. Which meant the dragon was either gone, or dead. Hopefully the latter. Haku swung up onto Jade, checking the straps and reins. Hmmm..... He had forgotten to do so before sadling up. The excitement down at the village must have distracted him. Or maybe he was just rusty from last time.
Slowly, Jade began to move up the slope. Eventually, it would get too steep, and Haku would have to go on foot. After that, he would have to climb. And hauling a 60-stone bag, along with his armor, would not be easy. But it had to be done.
Haku reached the relative point where his horse could no longer go steadily. He tied her reins to a nearby log, and slowly began his long walk to the dangers ahead, alone.
-
The dragon headed straight for Crag. With his sword ready he waited. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dragonium get into a hidden spot. Atleast hidden from the dragon. He knew a fellow Slayer would bever leave the other behind.
Crag knew that even if he blocked this attack he would be stunned momentarily from such great force, he was glad to have Dragonium there, otherwise this would surley be his final battle.
The attack is coming, a couple more seconds and he will live or die. Atleast for a good cause.
A sound of clashing claws ans swords it heard. Crag has been thrown back by the force of the dragon attack. He goes through some houses, and lands hard.
He can hear the dragon coming close, or is he just going fading out? Is it for a short period of is he dead?
While everything starts to turn balck and fade away Crag mutters to himself,"I will have shamed my village if I neveer beat that dragon, bah, atleast I may have died in a good battle."
Still fading he loses sense of time hos mind wanders. Thoughts cross over one another.
"Is the battle still going on?"
"Am I alive?"
"How is Drag fairing?"
" Will I wake up to the battle still raging and be able to help?"
Everything goes balck and Crag can hear nor see anything that is going on. His mind stops turning....is he dead?
-
Singhin watches from what he sees as a vantage point, staring at Crags motionless body. If he was to go down in there all gung ho, the bounty would be split three ways, well, two now that one of them had gone down. What are they thinking? he thought to himself, wathcing as the dragon boasted itself over its victory. Who do they think they are? A strong gust of wind hit him square in the face, wrapping his cloak around his steady body. He just had to wait until this other man was down before he could take this kill. Deep inside of him though, he knew he wasn't going to get this one. Something about the other man he recognized, not his appearance, but something about the way he carried himself. He had noticed it in the other as well before he went down.
It was subtle, but he began to realize that these men were not the first he had seen like this. Before, he had met one, far more skilled than himself in the art of the hunter. He didn't know his name, but he was afraid of him, afraid of his skill. These two weren't shaping up to be like the man in his memory. Maybe he was mistaken, it happens.
The dragon's ear splitting roar ripped through the air, hitting hard on his brain. That was it, the one thing he could not stand about these beasts, that aggrivating sound. It was like a thousands trumpets, blaring off key in unison. Terrible.
He grabbed his sword, waiting for the other man to fall. It was a matter of when, not if, and he needed to be ready to gain the attack immediately.
-
The dragons lets loose a blaze of fire and havoc breaks upon the village. It lands on it's feet and scouts the buildings for a new target. From all of a sudden Bowen jumps of the building the dragon is next to and lands on the beasts gigantic neck. It lets loose a devastating roar and tries to shake Bowen off.
"You wanna play mr. dragon?! Come on! Try to get me off before I kill you!" Bowen shouts and pierces his sword between two scales, wounding the beast's neck.
The beast let loose another roar and it's wings start to flap. Seeing this, Bowen jumps on his feet and onto the beck of the beast and rips through the left wing of the dragon, making it uncapalbe to fly properly. The beast, however, manages to shake Bowen of and takes of in the air. But the beast can't fly properbly because of it's damaged wing.
Brother Gilbert, standing away from the actual battle, is noting down every event of this battle. He smirks.
"You've done it again, Bowen. You've done it again."
-
Dragonium cursed and stepped out from his hiding place. These damned hunters! They always jumped on the Dragon, and they always went for the neck. And that was the worst possible thing to do when a Dragon was starving, because...
The Thorntip, furious at its attacker, and at the prey which it could not catch, decided that it was time to use its signature weapon; its tail. For the first time it clambered up onto the roof of the house, since it could not fly, and from there it turned a wide circle, swinging that great spiked club with all the force it could muster. Even the man who had wounded it was forced to take cover, as the force of the Dragon's attack shattered the wall of a nearby house, smashing it into dust.
Dragonium cursed and wished he was fighting the hunter instead. These things always went wild when they were injured. But of course, he didn't have the proper training, or the correct knowledge to fight one of these. Idiot.
It wasn't his fault. He just should have stayed back.
Anyway, now that the Thorntip was horribly angry, Crag's life was in a lot of danger. He had to do something.
But he hadn't learned nothing in all the time he had been fighting Dragons, and he was damned if all that knowledge would go to waste now. He reached for his helmet at his belt, the shape of a Dragon's skull. As much the symbol of the Circle as the Seed of Ages. Carefully he readied his sword, preparing to block another swing. If one hit him he'd go the same way as Crag, and then they'd both be in trouble.
Seeing that the Dragon was looking about for the one who had wounded it, he strode forward, lifted his sword and delivered a vicious horizontal swing to its right hind leg. It yelped like only Dragons could and lost its grip upon the building's roof, falling down into the street below. That was the start of it, anyway, and Dragonium grabbed a firm hold on Crag and pulled him into the doorway of the house behind. He'd be safe there. Now then, to business. The Thorntip cried out again, as much in confusion as in anger, and tried to bite down on its newest attacker, who was just as ready for this course of action. Dragonium lifted his sword again, half attacking, half guarding, and riposted the Dragon's bite so that its snout crashed against the house's wall. For the first time he got a good look at the wound to its neck. Deep, considering it was only a longsword. That sword must have been sharp.
The Dragon whipped its head round to the left, intent on striking its new target. Dragonium readied his blade. As the teeth closed in, he stepped right, swinging his sword over his head and slicing into the Dragon's lower jaw. Another trumpeting cry. That sound almost brought tears to his eyes, but he knew he needed to press on. With a turn, he brought the blade crashing into its shoulder. At first he thought it had only been a shallow wound, but when the Dragon looked him right in the eye with that familiar look - the look which accompanied an almost audible "Why?" from the Dragon - he knew it could not fight any more.
The wounds to the neck and shoulder were enough. It lifted its weight, and moved away out of the village and onto the plains. Nobody followed it. The assembled warriors only looked on as the Thorntip half-flew, half-limped away over the grasslands. As it reached the ring of blackened grass where Dragonium had awoken, it collapsed, the wings and legs no longer functioning. It did not pull itself back up. It was dead.
Finally Dragonium was able to run to where Crag lay. He was only knocked out, it seemed, and his injuries were minimal. A bruise to the shoulder seemed to be the extent of the damage.
Once he had established Crag's condition, he was able to look around at the other warriors. The one who had first wounded the Dragon stood against the wall of the house opposite, occasionally looking up, but avoiding Dragonium's eyes. The monk stood taking notes.
Suddenly he noticed the other man, standing a short distance down the road, away from the fighting. The look on his face, a mask of disappointment and annoyance at the warriors' victory, told Dragonium one thing. His life was at this other man's expense. This other man had seen his chance when Crag fell, and yet had waited out of the line of fire.
This other man wanted them both dead.
-
No... it can't be. Singhin stood shocked in the same position he had been in for the past few moments, not allowing the emtion to spread to his face. The moment the Dragonium had pulled his helment it had struck him. The Circle... dammit... Of all the slayers he could have encountered, it had to be a member of the Slayers Circle. That means that the other man was one too. Of all the luck... Unlike the Guild, the Circle seemed to advertise themselves and their hunters. Meaning unless he took off now, any work within the next few hundred miles would be taken by them, and any job they take, thats one less job for him. Dammit.
He stared at the flaming houses and the scorched earth, flames bickering with each other over the ruins. Another strong wind blew through, fanning the waves of heat in his direction. That was an odd event to watch however, such massize property damage was uncommon for a member of the Circle, why had such destrcution occurred this time? Foolishness, thats why. Had he not wasted his time with the other man, that dragon should have been a simple kill. Another difference of the Guild, success comes first. Saving that man cost more property damage, more damage than he believed he would have allowed.
Of course, this was a thorntip, not rare, but to him it was one of the most useful species out there. Nearly every piece of carcass lying just over in the plains had a use he could find. His very satchel was made from the intestines of one of these beasts, and the grip on his blades hilt was many old layers of its flesh. Turning towards the dead beast, he loosened his grip on the hilt and began to leisurely stride towards it. Not too far from here was another city he passed on the way to this location, and in this area there's bound to be some form of work he could pick up.
The names of cities were never anything he considered worth memorizing. No matter where he is in a few days he'll be gone. He thought again of the men behind him. If he truly was a circle member, he would need to leave immediately. Wasting even the small amount of time with the beast is a loss. Things would have been even better off had he the thought to leave before the final blow was struck. He knew inside, the man wasn't going to die, that he had lost this price. But he stayed, a foolish thing to do.
-
Saint leapt effortlessly across the rocky ground, anxious to meet his appointment. In his dreams he had forseen a man on the mountain, battling with dragons and about to die. This man was important, Saint knew. It would certainly be a loss if he were killed so early in his life.
And there he was, the weary traveller. Haku was struggling up the mountain, clearly weary. Saint strode over to him, and caught his attention. "Greetings. How can I help?"
-
Crag awakens.
Knowing only know that the attack he only knocked him out. It has happened before, and there has always been another Slayer there to save him.
"It will not happen again!"
He stands up and looks around, Dragonium is still there looking at the damage dealt this time. He saw some other men, he knew not who they were. Nor did he wish to know who they were. He gathered his weapons once again. Said goodbye to Dragonium and gave hime thanks, and with that headed off to the village of Bjorn where another dragon was attacking.
"Seeing as Dragonium is not coming this time, I must not get knocked out, or it will be the end of my life for sure."
With the time that it took to defeat this dragon, the other must have caused alot of damage.
"But who knows it could be a friendly dragon. HAHA. Right"
-
Dragonium sighed and shook his head, removing the helmet and re-attaching it to his belt. The townsfolk began to come out of their houses and look around to examine events. Already merchants were leaving on their carts to be first to the corpse. It was sickening how after all this they only thought of themselves.
Some people were disgusting.
He noticed the man standing at the end of the road who had not moved. He was almost certainly a Guild man. Dragonium had known from the start, but the fact that this man would not move at all during the battle had told him for certain. Only a guild man would stand by and watch a Circle member fight for his life.
Anyway, they only think of themselves, he thought. Glory hunters and fools. What else can one expect from a group that accepts volunteers?
Now he had to choose a course of action. Of course, there was no point staying here, in Serradee. He would much rather go north, over the mountains, to Bjorn and beyond. But he did not trust this Guild man. What was he doing here?
Crag was going to Bjorn.
A thought came to him.
First, that the mounted man and the unarmed man had gone north, in the direction of the mountains. And where hunters went, there were Dragons.
And while he was mulling this over, something else struck him.
Crag had gone to Bjorn to slay a Dragon there. But Bjorn was a city of a good size, well-known throughout the world, and there were already two Circle men stationed there.
If they had fallen already, Crag was walking towards a lot of trouble.
Dragonium looked out onto the plains, where Crag was already a speck on the horizon.
He shot a glance to the Guild man, still not moving, then shouldered his sword and walked out onto the plains.
He never sprinted. No matter what danger he was in or how badly wounded he was in a battle, he never ran away. He always stood, stoic, and took whatever came.
But now was a good time to run.
He had to catch up to Crag before he reached Bjorn, or chances were he wouldn't have a chance to help him.
-
Into the local pub came Bowen, his sword cleaned and his sweat wiped of his forehead. A few people gave a quick gaze at Bowen, but that didn't last all too long.
"Over here Sir Bowen!" Brother Gilbert shouted, waving his hand at a nearby table filled with food.
"Is that feast for us, Brother?"
"Yes it is, Sir Bowen. It's already paid for, the same for the night at the inn. You have room six."
Gilbert hands Bowen the key and sits down.
"That was an excellent performance Sir Bowen. Though, it's a shame you couldn't finish him off."
"Those two, in the armor, they were from the Circle, weren't they?"
"Yes they were, I saw their emblem on their armor."
"I wonder what the Circle is doing in a village like this."
"They're probably just passing through on their way to Bjorn."
"Why Bjorn, Brother?"
"There have been rumours of a giant elder dragon terrorizing the area there."
"An elder... like Draco."
"Indeed, but from what I've heard it cannot speak the human tongue. Thus it's not Draco. I do, however, think we should check it out aswell."
"We will start our journey to Bjorn then. But after this feast and a good night's rest. Well, let's eat, Brother. You mind saying grace?"
"Of course not. I loved to say grace."
-
Crag stopped for a second and looked back towards the destruction, from what he could see people were starting to come out of houses. If they could savalge any eatable meat from that dragon it would last them a long time.
At first it looked as though someone were running to him, but he was not sure. He turned around and headed for the moutain range.
He thought to himself,"Why should it be that I was called to Bjorn? There are tow men there, could they need some help? I don't know alot about the men stationed there, they could just be rookies, younger then me. Or something is wrong."
From what he can remember, before the dragon attacked him, he saw a mna on a horse heading out towards the mountains. Was he heading to Bjorn? He was not sure, but no matter what Crag had to get there. There was a dragon to be dealt with. Crag always wondered when he would face that onix colored dragon again, and he just hoped that this is the one or he may not live threw another battle to ever face it.
-
"Greetings! How can I help?"
A strange man was smiling down at Haku, as he rested upon the mountain side. "Um...... I don't really know what you mean, sir."
The strange man laughed. "Sir? That's a new one."
"..... Would you like something to eat? I've brought plenty of food with me, I could share some with you if you like."
"Certainly. If you have any, I would like an apple," the strange man continued to smile as he sat down next to Haku. Haku handed the man a large green apple, picked fresh from the apple tree in his yard. The man surveyed the apple for a moment, wiped it off on his robe, then sunk his teeth into the skin and fruit of the apple. As he chewed, Haku couldn't help but feel this man was somehow studying, testing him, for something.
"I am Haku," he said as he offered his hand for the man to shake.
"Saint. Pleased to meet you, Haku," the man replied, as he shook Haku's hand with a firm grip and that same polite smile.
-
He couldn't carry on. Dragonium fell to his knees and struggled to catch his breath.
He had been running for ten minutes. Crag was not too far away. He could probably be heard if he shouted, but at the moment he didn't have the energy. He took a swig of his ale in the hip-flask, and was so exhausted that he swallowed it. It felt vile as it ran down his throat. That would no doubt make him very ill later, but at the moment he didn't have time to fall sick in the middle of the plains. There was business to attend to.
Slowly his energy came back, and he stood up. "Crag", he called, mustering all the breath he had, "Wait there. I'm coming with you". Crag stopped and waited for Dragonium to walk to him.
"I'm coming with you", he repeated. "I have a feeling you'll need help".
Crag smiled. "When you get a feeling, Drag, I know I'm in trouble".
"Well, I have supplies, and we're both adequately armed. We've handled big Dragons before, and we've survived. Let's get going before the hunter gets himself into a lot of trouble".
With that, the two set off up the mountain path, to whatever was waiting at the other side.
-
"Sir Bowen, I'm going for a walk outside."
"Sure thing, Brother Gilbert. I'm going to check on Rhiannón, she's probably lonely without me."
Brother Gilbert sat down outside on a grassy hill with a few trees. In the distance the sun was setting, sending off a beautifull red and purple glare to the sky.
"It's gonna be a beautifull sky again tonight. Shame we have to sleep early to get up early, caused I would've liked to enjoy it."
"It's beautifull indeed," a female voice behind Brother Gilbert says.
"Mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all, I enjoy company that know what beauty is."
Besides Brother Gilbert now sat a woman. She's young and good looking, somewhere around the twenty. The two talk for a while till Brother Gilbert notices a wedding ring.
"You're married?"
"Yes, for a few years now. I know we're still young, but our love is real."
"And that is all what one really needs, true love."
"Yes. But I'm a bit worries. My husband has gone to hunt dragons, that is his job you see, to get us through once more. I have a bad feeling about it this time, like I'm not going to see him again."
"I see. Well my friend, Sir Bowen, is a dragonhunter himself. I could perhaps pursue him to check if your husband's safety. It's the least I could do for the pleasent company you gave me. Where is this place located? Where your husband went to?"
"You will? Oh I would be so gratefull if you could pursue your friend! He said he went to a cave filled with dragons, weak ones. He has done it before but I still fear it this time. The captain of the guards knows where this place is located."
"I will go with haste. Before I go, may I know your names?"
"Kiya. And his name is Haku. I'll be for ever gratefull if he comes home safe."
"Trust me, he will."
And with these final words, Brother Gilbert headed to the stables. He managed to pursue Bowen to check out the cave and gave the location he had gotten earlier from the captain of the guards and Bowen jumped on Rhiannón and rode out.
-
An hour or two later, Dragonium and Crag stopped walking.
They had made good progress, having climbed half-way up the mountain path. It had become significantly steeper, and finally the two had given up and established a makeshift camp on a plateau which looked eastward, out onto the plains and the wide river which ran past Bjorn. It was a rapid river, impossible to cross, so going over the mountains like this was the only option.
It was a good vantage point, and they were both expert Slayers. They'd be able to see any Dragons coming a mile off from here.
It was getting dark. Dragonium gathered some fallen brush, dried out from sun exposure, and was able to make a small, but nevertheless acceptable fire. Crag took a provision of dried meat from his satchel, and began preparing it to an edible state.
Once the meal was done, and both sat around their fire enjoying a scant bite of meat, Crag spoke.
"Drag, do we have a plan? For the long term?"
"Well", began Dragonium through a mouthful of food, "First we go north over the mountains, and check that those two haven't got themselves eaten. Then we bear northeast to Bjorn, and find that Dragon. If we're both still alive and well, we'll go northwest to Aravale".
"And when we get there?"
"I can't think that far ahead. It's getting dark fast. We ought to get settled down for the night". He finished his meal and stood up. "I'll take the first watch".
-
Saint sat down next to the small fire Haku had made to fight away the darkness. They were near the summit.
"So, you wish to fight the Wyrms on the top of the mountain?"
"Yes" Haku replied, a little surprised. But then again, with his gear and the way he walked he had made it no secret.
"I wonder if these are worthy of your attention" Saint postured. "You know the town of Bjorn?"
"I do."
"It's currently home to a very large, old Wyrm. And your comrades will be there fighting it. It is only right that we meet them in battle."
"My... comrades? I don't know what you mean, but I have a contract to kill the infestation on this mountain, and I intend to honour it."
Saint angered quicky. This stupid hunter didn't understand at all. He didn't know. He didn't know anything. Saint was in two minds- he wanted to unsheath his knife immediately and rid himself of this confused man. But he composed himself. He had done very well to provide a front so far, and he wasn't about to fail now. "They are just children" He said softly. "Surely you would not rob them of their lives so early?"
Haku did not hear. He was already dozing off. Saint glanced back down the mountain and smiled. The warriors were coming too. Perhaps all was not lost.
-
Singhin followed behind the others, but not by choice. Over this ridge was the only way to his destination. Just another nameless town. He should have left earlier, nt wasting his time with the corpse of that beast. Judging by the way these men were climbing he'd figured had he left earlier he would have a one, maybe two hour lead. Thats all it took to destroy a wyrm.
Setting up camp. Thank the lord. Now finally he could gain some lead. Claearing the summit was neccessary if he wanted to hve any hope of claiming this hunt. But then there was the villagers themselves.They had been plauged by the current beast for many years, and no doubt had spent much money to buy high hopes from the hunters. Clearly though, none had succeeded. The beast lived.
Unlike the Circle, very few were familiar with the Guild, and unlike the Circle, they can't sell a slayer on the name. He continued to trudge upward, taking a round but nevertheless upward climb. Staying away from the others was a matter of importance. If he was to continue in a straight, no doubt they would realize his intentions, and try to beat him to the edge.
He stepped on a bed of loose rocks, his foot slipping out from underneath him, tossing him into the angled side of the mountain. ****. He laid motionless, cringing as the rocks rolled down the edge of the peak. He was far enough away he didn't believe that they would have heard him, but two hunters were ahead of him. Dammit. He waited a few moments, slowly lifting himself up off the rocks. He wiped dirt off his face, feeling the blood flowing from a minor gash sustained from the fall. Even a hunter is still human.
Continuing onward, he pulled a smaller bag out of his satchel, made from the same material as its larger parent. Pulling apart the top against the will of its leather drawstring, he dipped his fore and middle fingers into the bag. A ground mixture of plants and minerals clung to his fingers as he rubed the mixture on the wound. Now healing would begin quicker. And wound is a sign of weakness, and he needed to be ready to take the offer for the beast.
-
Sitting upon the edge of the narrow trail, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the plateau, Dragonium had had a few thoughts.
Firstly, that the Guild man would have to come through this way at some point. He had learned enough as a Slayer to observe the alternative routes to a destination, and the only paths converged here. He had offered to take the first watch, certainly, but he knew in his mind that he'd offer to take the second watch. And the third. And every watch after that. Because there would be a Guild man coming through their camp. And he had to protect them both from whatever happened.
He looked back at Crag, already asleep, or putting on a good act. He was 300 years old, roughly. Dragonium chuckled, the words coming into his head - "Crag is old enough to protect himself". Well, that was certainly true.
Dragonium could lie to Crag, tell him that he "couldn't think that far ahead", but after they got to Aravale, he did not know where they would go, or what they would do.
That was if they were alive to do anything.
He shivered as a chill breeze blew across the platform, and reched for his sword. He'd very much like to keep it close to hand.
Somewhere in the distance he thought he heard a clattering of stones, a scrambling upon the scree. Someone was coming this way. Soon enough he'd realise he had to double-back on himself, to follow the main path up the side of the mountain. And then he'd be in the camp.
Dragonium stood up and let his sword hang at his side. Whatever happened, he'd be ready.
Just like always.
-
Haku had noticed a subtle change in Saint's demeanor. Anger? Annoyance? Hmmm....
Perhaps he had just been a bit irritated by Haku's misunderstanding of his question. Ever since they had first started conversing this morning, Saint had been aluding to something. But what that was, Haku had had no idea. Now, the truth was dawning on him. Saint had quite possibly mistaken him for a certified dragon hunter. In reality, he was just the village scapegoat. When there was a problem involving Wyrms or other beasts, he was swiftly called upon, assuming there were no real slayors in the pub at the time. Comrades? Hardly. The only 'comrades' he had ever had hadn't made a fool of themselves in the royal guard. Now the only allies he really had were the alliances of his wife and son.
Saint said something slowly to himself, inaudible to Haku. No matter. Saint is an honest man, not a thief, Haku thought as he rolled over and slowly willed himself to sleep.
His dreams were not pleasant.
-
He continued until he found himself against a flat face in the rock. DAMMIT! These recent events were not going as he had planned them. First, the slayers were at the village before him, then they were headed in same direction as he, and now this. Jagged edges extruded from the wall, the points making it impossible to climb considering its height. He ran his hand along the wall, feeling the minerals and and the texture.
Pulling a knife out of the hilt of his sword, he began to prod the face of the wall with its point, searching for a spot to lodge the edge in. No luck. The other hunters were oner to his right, barely 200 yards away. He stared at the conscious man through the dried boughs of the bush nest to him. The flames danced around the mans face, illuminating it just enough to tell it was a face.
He stared at the other flame nearer the summit. He could barely see the silhouettes of two men, not nearly enough to determine anything. It seems that even with his planning the darkness had tricked him. At night this path seemed open, but obviously he was mistaken. The only way up now was trhough the two camps. He didn't even consider going down and taking the other way around. That would cost him at least 10 hours.
Granted the path was large enough he wouldn't need to go directly through them, but it was obvious he would be spotted. Maybe though this man wouldn't be able to identify him as Guild. But he was able to tell this man was Circle, was Singjin this obvious in his association. Oh well, its to late to rethink ideas.
He turned back and headed down the cliff. It was about 300 yards to the convergence of the to paths, after that he would head up as quickly as he could, making his way as easy as he could.
-
Dragonium shivered.
It was dark now, dark as any good night should be, and gazing into the darkness beyond the fire made his eyes hurt. He longed to rest them, but he knew that he couldn't let both of them fall asleep.
He had to stay awake, at least until the other man arrived there.
It occured to him that he could sleep for a while, with the knowledge that he'd wake up if there was noise enough to cause concern. Dragons were noisy when they tried to land in an enclosed space like this, with the front of the camp opening onto the cliff face, and the back being a vertical wall.
A wolf howled somewhere in the distance. There was the realisation. In this world, Dragons were not the only dangerous creature, not the only peril which the people faced. There were many other species, monsters only slightly less dangerous than the winged deathbringers, and which many men feared to encounter.
He shivered with the chill breeze which blew through the camp. For now, he very much would have liked to climb higher up the mountain, to join the hunter's camp where they would have more numbers. But it was too late now.
They'd have to face whatever came this way.
-
"Woah Riz! Woooh! Hold it." Bowen speaks to his trusted horse. He mounts of and takes a quick skimmer of his surrounding.
"These rocks are too stale for you to climb onto on. Hmmm... a way around will take too long if it was with haste like Brother Gilbert spoke off. Rhiannón, go back to the village. Follow the path."
Bowen gives the horse a slap against the right side. She raises her feet high in the air, neighs and runs off.
Bowen looks at the sky. No clouds, full moon. Good, I can use the light for climbing this. goes through his thoughts. He feels the rocks and tries to get a grip. Succesfull. Bowen slowly starts is acend on the rocks.
-
Saint enjoyed the deeps shadows and mystery upon the mountain that night. He stood and left Haku sleeping, to wander amongst the tall mountain plants.
It was at this time of day that Saint's mind was at his clearest. At this time had he envisioned Dragonium, in a great battle, and a few days later Haku and Bowen. These men's fates were all interwined, he knew, and he has done his best to bring them together. But now his mind began to focus once more and another warrior entered his mind.
"Singhin. The master tactician" Saint whispered. "Will you aid, or will you obstruct?"
His thoughts were interrupted my the howling of nearby wolves. Hungry and hunting- and the travellers on the mountain were the only decent prey in the area. With an utmost clarity of mind, Saint unsheathed his knife and awaited their arrival. The night would bring some excitement, it seemed.
-
Haku bolted to a sitting position. Howling in the crisp night air, wolves were slowly beginning there hunt of anything that suited as a meal. Goats, rabbits..... men.... Haku quickly tied his sword back on his belt. At this height, there was no reason to take off one's armor. Anything could happen at any moment. And now something was happening.
"Saint?" Haku whispered quietly around him. He started to wonder if perhaps he had been wrong about his new companion....
"I am here," Saint replied quietly as he stepped back into the small bouncing circle of light given off by the near-dead fire. There was a small dagger in his hand, hanging from the open hole in the sleeve of his robe. "Those beasts will be here shortly. Are you prepared to fight?"
"I am. I was trained to become fully alert at any minute, in case of emergency. It's one of the few things I carried with me from the royal guard."
"Here they come," Saint whispered.
There were scrambling and sniffing noises as the canines approached slowly in search of food. Of course, building a fire on the side of the mountain wasn't exactly the best way to go unnoticed. Suddenly, the sniffing sounds stopped as the wolves found there potential prey. Now there were only the sounds of the wolves' feet padding quickly around the fire, surrounding Haku and Saint.
Haku slowly unsheathed his katana as he listened for the first attack. One of them growled, and without warning, lunged from the darkness towards Saint.
"Look out!"
The wolf froze in mid-air as Saint plunged his small knife into the beast's chest. As quickly as he had thrusted his weapon into the wolf's fur, it retracted to rest once again at his side, devoid of any sign he had done anything in defense. Except, of course, the beast that lay dead at his feet.
The whole pack reacted quickly. They all sprung one after the other at the two combatants. Haku had no time to look back at Saint as he fought desperately against the hungry canines. First one, then the other, swarming in. Thrust, circle left, vertical slash.
One, then two, as they continued to come. Blood soaked the ground, and extinguished the rest of the fire.
Haku was tackled to the ground, as a wolf went for his throat. Haku held it at bay with one hand around its neck. Haku kicked the hunter off, lunged forward, and decapitated the beast.
The few left from the pack retreated quickly from the way they had come.
Saint approached Haku slowly. "Are you all right?"
"I think so. I took a few scratches, but nothing too deep to kill me, Haku said as he wiped his sword off and put it back in its sheath.
"Good. We have to move now. The scavengers will be here within an hour to pick up the remains. And I'm sure they will consider us remains if we stay still too long."
Haku nodded at Saint. He was right. He repacked his blanket into a small roll of cloth and replaced it in his bag. Within five minutes, the only evidence they had been there was the small brown circle and slain beasts around their former campsite.
"Come. There is no time to lose," Saint said and quickly started off up the mountain path again.
-
Sorry guys for not being able to write muc. Work is killer.
==================
Crag sat staright up. He heard whining and growling in the distance.
Hmmm, it seems as though someone or something has got into a scrap with some wolves.
Well, it was near dawn and him and Dragonium should get a move on if they wish to beat that Guild member to Bjorn, and see what damage has been caused.
Dragonium and Crag start packing up and head out. It would atleas take half of a day to traverse the rest of the moutain and get to the other side, if nothing bad happened on the way.
And so, they set off.
-
Dragonium shouldered his bag and walked along the path out of the camp, along with Crag. It would be an uphill walk from here, and they needed all the time they could get to ensure that they reached Bjorn before the other man did.
There would be a few battles ahead, and they would need the time to prepare. A few supplies here, a night at an Inn there, and they'd no doubt be ready.
He just hoped that this Dragon at Bjorn wasn't as dangerous as it sounded.
But secretly, he knew it was.
-
"Stop" Saint said suddenly. A thought had occurred to him- he wanted to test his warrior's endurance. Haku would be tested with the small wyrms, but he had other plans for the professionals.
"What is it?"
"Wait here." Saint walked over to a large boulder that looked like it had recently fallen- the moss upon it was disturbed and it was evidentally a tribute to the playful wyrm children just above. Exercising his carefully designed muscles, he placed his foot against the boulder, and his hand against the rock face, and pushed. Once it had budged a little, to the bewilderment of Haku, Saint struck at it suddenly and it went tumbling down the narrow mountain path. Then he began walking again. "This will also buy you time on your own" he said to Haku casually. "The top is not far, let's hurry."
-
Crag stops, he sees something coming towards them very fast.
"A boulder!"
The boulder picked up speed as it barreled down the moutain.
There was no room on either side to dodge, they would have to jump it, or somthing else.
As Crag and Dragonium think of a plan the huge boulder continues to barrel towards them.
-
"The top is not far, let's hurry."
Haku stood there for a moment, bewildered by Saint's sudden show of strength. The boulder continued to roll with loud cracking sounds as it bounced further down the mountain path. He gathered himself again and began walking with Saint before he fell too far behind.
"How did you do that?" Haku inquired, trying to sound casual yet interested. If Saint could cause a boulder to cascade down the mountain side with a single strike, Haku wondered what else this man could be capable of.
"Years of practiced," Saint said with a small smirk. Clearly, Saint did not intend to reveal the secrets to his strength to Haku. At least, not yet.
This will also buy you time on your own....
"Saint, what did you mean by 'time on your own'?"
"Haku, did you really think you would be the only hunter on this mountain? No, there are others on their way." The fight in the village, Haku thought back. They must be on their way to take out the Wyrm cave, just like him.
"Well, I was hired to take care of the colony here. The others must just be trying to collect the bounty. It's not the first time this kind of thing has happened."
Saint seemed to be thinking this over. "Possibly."
The path took a sharp turn to the left. They had reached the begining of the summit. Somewhere around here, there was a cave swarming with dragons. Haku and Saint continued along the path. There were quiet whispers carried with the wind.
As they continued along the path, the whispers became louder, until Haku realized these whispers were really the hissing of dragons' tongues licking the air, searching for something to eat.
In all likelihood, that would be he and Saint if they weren't careful.
-
Faced with the boulder which rolled down the mountain path, Dragonium had to think fast. It was a skill which came naturally when faced with something which could kill in a heartbeat; the urge to fight and the urge to survive, coming together as one to ensure that one made it through their battles.
This was different. He couldn't kill the boulder.
Something came to him.
He lifted his sword into a position where he could swing it readily, and rather than striking the boulder, he turned to his left, stepped past Crag, and slammed the sword hard into the rock face. Twisting the blade like a pivot, he stepped back, a small chunk of the rock face coming away from the main wall. The boulder slammed into this, and just before colliding with the two Slayers, it was deflected by the smaller rock and fell away down the mountainside.
"That was too close", sighed Crag, "Well done for that idea of yours".
"Comes naturally", Dragonium replied. "Wait, do you hear that?"
At first it seemed to be the breath of the wind. A gentle cooing, a hissing along the blasted rock. It was a sound which seasoned DragonSlayers were wary of.
"Juveniles", hissed Crag, his voice almost blending into the whisper of the Dragons, "Drag, you don't suppose the hunter would have any trouble with a few young Wyrms?"
"No", sighed Dragonium, that familiar feeling of being obligated to help rising in his chest. "But the brood are hungry. And where there are hungry children, there's mother waiting just around the corner".
"Hunter hasn't thought of that, apparently", said Crag, reaching for his crossbow.
"We should go. That hunter is liable to get himself into a lot of trouble. Not to mention the other one". Dragonium lifted his sword and set off at a brisk pace up the path towards the summit.
-
Crag, along with Dragonium race to help the doomed hunter. It was no surprise that the Hunter would get himself into trouble like this.
As they climbed ever higher on the moutain the kissing sounds got louder, even though they were little wyrms, there was bound to still be a mother, this would be the one that Crag and Dragonium would have to face.
The Slayer's crested an overhang on the mountain's facade and noticed that the baby wyrms were starting to close in on the Hunter, there also appeared to be some other man with him, one he did not know. Two people could handle these wyrms, but they could not handle the mother.
As Dragonium and Crag readied themselves for the mother, they saw some more men not too far below them.
Must be some more Hunters. Crag said to himself.
While saying the he heard the little wyrms start to pounce on the two men.
Crag look at Dragonium. Drag knew exactly what he was thinking and nodded.
Vrag unsheathed his sword and both him and Dragonium went over to help defeat the babies.
-
Saint scowled. These were only children. The mother would have to arrive should this be a fair fight. But so far she was no-where in sight.
Almost as soon as the babies began attacking, the two circle members arrived. Saint span and severed the throat of each of his attackers, a painless death. But the other three were clumsy by his standards, leaving each wyrm to flounder and die. After a minute of silent fighting Saint could take no more- he sprang from the battle and made his way deep into the cave. He heard the experienced one, Dragonium, cry out in warning- but Saint knew what he was doing. Where was this mother who could not defend her own children?
"Look after the young hunter" He called back to Dragonium and Crag. "He is weak." And with that he dissapeared into the ominous dark.
-
Dragonium hoisted his sword again, turned to avoid an advancing wyrm, and swung wide to cripple another.
He hated fighting against these numbers. One-on-one was his style. It was the way the Circle taught its members; first get into a position where it is only you and the foe, and then fight as you would normally.
But these things were weak, their scales having not yet hardened to maturity, and the brood was quickly brought down.
There would be no time to rest. The other man had already descended into the nest, where the young had been before they had sensed prey in the air. At the bottom of the gentle slope, there would be a drop of about ten feet, and a wide cavern, large enough for the mother and her young to lie snugly.
There was no sound from the tunnel. Not even the man's footsteps. And that could mean two things: That the mother was not in the nest, and had gone out to find food for her young; or that she was dead.
And yet these young looked well-fed. Strong and powerful. Almost as though they recieved regular care.
And he'd seen this before. In his mind, he knew exactly how events would pan out if they didn't act fast. He sprang into action.
"We need to get these bodies out of sight. The mother is out hunting, and she'll return soon. If she sees that her brood have been slain, she'll panic, search out and kill everything she can find. Nothing can stand against that sort of blind fury, not even the strongest magic. If she doesn't see the bodies, she'll drop the food and go out to find more. I just hope she doesn't sense anything is wrong...".
"Parent Dragons are very intuitive", supplied Crag, "If they feel the slightest inkling that their brood are in danger, they'll go over the area thoroughly until they find them".
"Right", finished Dragonium, "We move the bodies into the cave, being careful not to leave a mess. Then we get in the cave and stay quiet and out of sight. If luck is on our side, she won't suspect anything, and she'll leave".
With that, he lifted a body lying close to him, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and carried it towards the cave.
The mother would be here soon.
-
It was not lond until Crag and Dragonium,(with little help from the hunter) to get the bodies into the cave. There was no mess as far as they could tell with. Crag and Dragonium took hiding spots, and made sure the hunter would not screw any thing up.
And so they waited, no talking, just silence. It also helped that they gagged the hunter. He was a nosy fellow.
While sitting in the dank, dark cave Crag though to himself, What ever happened to the two other people that I saw below us on the moutain?
But that was the only thought he could get because just as soon as he finished it the mother came.
She landed, from her mouth she dropped some food. Dead animals, mostly cows. It looked as though she didn't notice her children were dead. But she stopped for just a moment, no movement what so ever. She then turned her head to the nearest baby, and nudged it. The arm on the baby moved towards the mother. The mother stopped and stared.
There was a suspenseful moment, where the world seemed to halt as if waiting for the mother dragon to react.
Suddenly she left as soon as she had come.
Crag looked over at Dragonium, they were both thinking the same thing. She must have not noticed anything wrong.
They stood, unbound the hunter and started to leave.
WOOSH! The mother dragon had suddenly returned.
"Dragonium! She was tricing us all along, we must fight."
"I know Crag, let us fight", responded Dragonium.
Crag turned to the hunter and asked, " Will you aid us?"
The hunter nodded, and so another battle enrarged. 'Tis the life of a Slayer.
-
The mother flies past the Circle members and high up in the air, disapeering into the darkness.
"Damn it!" Dragonium shouted with anger all throughout his voice.
"Wait? Do you hear that Dragonium?" Crag whispered softly.
Dragonium takes a minute to listen and hears the sound of a sword hitting scales. Also he hears some grunts. A roar, the loudest thing he had heard in a long time, followed along with the sound of hasty footsteps running into his direction. Dragonium focusses his eyes on the direction of the noices and sees a shadowy figure coming closer and closer. The figure of a man.
"It's that man, from the village. The one who damaged the dragon's wing."
"Are you sure?" Crag asked.
"Yes."
It was indeed Bowen, and when he got closer to Dragonium, the three men saw what he was running for.
"What the hell is that?!" Dragonium shouts as a gigantic dragon is running towards them.
Bowen sees the men and starts to shout something. At first they can't hear, but then it becomes clear. "FATHER!" That gigantic beast is the father of the brood. It's very rare that one stays with the mother and his children, but there has been reports of. But this surely proved that the fight is gonna be a hard one.
-
"Finally" Came a voice beside Dragonium. He jumped and turned to see Saint standing calmly, with a pleased look on his face.
"What do you mean? What is your game here?" Questioned Dragonium angrily. "You're putting us all in danger."
"Tell me;" continued Saint, "do you believe us to be in the right? Who has slain the children, and who is defending their lives?"
"Dragons are animals." Crag interrupted. "You can't possibly compare them to us."
Bowen snorted. "Dragons are very much aware, my friends. Aware and wicked. When you fight a dragon, you are always on the side of good."
"Like ignorant toddlers" Saint chuckled. He grabbed Haku and pulled him back against the cave side as a lick of flame passed through, and the five men felt the near unbearable heat for a second. "Be more careful."
"Whatever, we need to be working together here" said Dragonium. "We can settle our differences later. Once the dragons decide that we're not dangerous, they'll come deeper into the cave and fight us. That's where we'll have to stand our ground and fight."
-
Weak.
He is weak, Saint had said.
These men treated him like nothing more than a child, like he knew nothing about the sword, or fighting, or slaying. He had done it a dosen times. And yet, these men, not much older than he, had decided to gag him, as if he didn't know the dire situation they were in.
As his anger flowed through his head, Haku's thoughts strayed to the large satchel hanging from his back. The bomb the monk gave me, Haku thought. They only had moments before the two dragons came to fight them head-on. And they didn't seem too happy about it.
"I have an idea," Haku said quickly. They had to plan it out, now.
-
Taking a moment to speculate, Dragonium also had a fair idea of how they could survive this.
Crag had voiced his opinions, and the older slayer felt that he should not. Crag was Crag. Crag could say what he liked, but Dragonium could make up his own mind.
"We should at least know each other's names", he said, thinking aloud.
The group in the cave told each other their names and titles. When Dragonium and Crag said that they were part of the Slayers' Circle, Bowen and Haku frowned. Dragonium knew what they were thinking.
"Don't get in our way", he supplemented. "Crag and I have been fighting Dragons for hundreds of years". Another frown. "And we have enough experience to see you both out of here alive, so you have to trust us".
Bowen spoke first. "Why should we trust you? You evidently don't trust us".
"I never said that", sighed Dragonium. Hunters were so predictable. "It's just that Crag and I slay Dragons all the time. It is our trade. And when such activity is one's trade, then one picks up a few things about Dragon behaviour".
Saint made a faint smile and inclined his head slightly.
"The father will fight conservatively", explained Dragonium. "We are on wide open ground, and this Dragon will not stay and fight if he is still capable of an escape. Crag and I have sworn oaths that when we find Dragons, we will slay them. This male cannot be allowed to escape. Crag, you and I shall tackle the father".
Crag nodded and reached for his crossbow; Dragonium turned to the other three.
"Bowen, you fought reasonably well against that Thorntip. Haku, Saint, I haven't seen you fight, but either way you must defend yourselves. The three of you should go after the mother. Thirty-five feet at a guess. Shouldn't be too difficult".
The two Slayers turned and walked the short distance to the cave entrance, where the mother and father waited outside. Dragonium reached for his helmet, the image of a Dragon's skull shining in steel, and placed it on his head, so that only his mouth was visible beneath it. Before they stepped outside, Dragonium turned.
"This is just another battle. Do try not to get yourselves killed", he said, his voice almost a whisper. And with that, the two stepped out of the cave.
The three hunters, fortunately, were ready. Both the mother and the father went for the two Slayers, but the mother's attention was drawn away by the three more lightly armoured figures at the cave entrance. Dragonium hoisted his sword as Crag circled for a good crossbow shot. The father, feet firmly on the ground, lunged forwards, teeth bared, mouth open in readiness for a strike.
The attack was predictable, to say the least. The Dragon missed as the Slayer stepped effortlessly to one side.
As he turned to see the three other men fighting the mother Dragon, he smiled.
This was just another battle.
-
This was a worthy battle. This was fitting for the warriors, and thus Saint could relax a little and ease into the battle. Bowen was hot headed and rushed into things, Saint noted, but that could be used as an advantage. The capable Bowen would provide an adequate distraction as he went in for the kill.
But then Haku was at Saint's side, a look of determination on his face. "Very well" Saint said. "Let us see what you can do.
-
Bowen ran towards the mother and lunged his sword into it's neck, like he did to the Thorntip. His sword went in deep and Bowen retrieved it quickly, rolled out of the way of a quick tailwhipe and jumped onto the tail and quickly climbed onto the mother's back. He then slowly moved his way to it's neck and stabbed it again.
Saint smiles, as he lookes impressed at Bowen. Fearless and rushes into battle, but at least he knows what he's doing. He can prove very usefull to me now that I know.
Bowen jumped off the mother's neck when it let out another roar and went for his shield, picked it up and turned to the beast just in time to block an attack of it's left front leg, and quickly stabbed his sword into it.
"Come on! I've fought dogs stronger than you! Too predicable!"
-
Frowning as the father's mighty talons whistled over his head, Dragonium gripped his blade and looked over to where Bowen was holding his own reasonably well.
This man was confident. Perhaps over-confident. Dragonium had certainly observed that Bowen expected the Dragon to die soon. But this Dragon would have more longevity yet. She would fight to avenge her children, but it was anyone's guess as to who would tire first.
Crag had now circled round behind the Dragon, and without having to be asked, fired a bolt into the less well-plated space at the back of the Dragon's hind leg. It stumbled, turned to attack Crag, but with a strike which he had had ample chance to perfect over the years, Dragonium strode forward and trust his sword firmly between the Dragon's ribs, then swung it up and over his head with a quarter turn to strike the Dragon upwards in the jaw. Crag supplied a number of swings with his own blade, and the Dragon was brought down in a short time.
"There", panted Crag, fitting his crossbow back onto his belt. "Job well done".
"Aye", replied Dragonium with a nod. "The others ought to be finished soon".
They could have left now - gone to Bjorn, sought out the Dragon, slain it and been on their way. But out of interest, they stayed to watch the fight.
Dragonium hoped that Bowen would not become too complacent in this battle. Seeing that its mate had fallen, the female Dragon began to fight more fiercely, forcing Bowen to defend himself. While he may have been experienced enough for an ordinary hunter, he would be lucky to win the battle without being hurt if he didn't raise his game.
Dragons were tricky, and they were certainly not to be taken lightly.
-
(I'm kinda waiting for Emerates to do something in this battle, so give him a bit longer.)
-
Bowen turns to Haku and Saint. "Come on! Don't let me have all the fun!"
-
Sorry guys, been busy last couple days with music and some other stuff.... :D
BTW, Crag, 'bound and gagged'? WTF?
====================
Haku turned to Saint quickly. "Look, I'll see if I can keep it distracted on one side while the other hunter stays on the other side. You need to go directly for the brain. If we don't kill the dragon now, none of us will make it off this mountain."
Saint nodded. It was a half-baked plan, dangerous, and without much room for error. But the brain was the only chance Saint had of penetration with his dagger. One shot. "Go."
Haku nodded at Saint, knowing the danger they both faced. If Haku was killed, the other hunter would go quickly thereafter. Saint had to launch himself at the dragons head, and if he missed... the long trip down would be his last. Haku drew his sword and threw himself into the fight while Saint began to climb higher for his attack.
-
Saint smiled. Finally the young one had plucked up the courage to do something. He observed Haku's fighting style for a moment, barely paying attention to the frenzied attacks of the dragon narrowly missing him. Then, satisfied that he knew enough, he leapt for the dragon's head.
He spun in the air and struck the exposed neck, once, twice, and felt the blood of the now panicked wyrm hit his face. Unsavoury to say the least. The dragon, in a final attack, lurched forward with it's huge jaws, and Saint fell backwards, a little surprised- But at that moment Haku and Bowen both plunged their swords into the dragon's flesh and with a final, blood churning scream, it fell. Saint landed on his feet and sheathed his knife in one movement.
-
They left the carnage as it lay on the ground around them. Bodies of an entire dragon family lay about, blood still pouring from the gashes in their hides. The members of the small troupe said nothing as they continued on the path over the summit.
Haku did not know why he went with them. He had a family to support, and going this way was no way to help them. But he kept walking forward. The two hunters were talking quietly with one another, seemingly uninterested in anyone else's business at the moment. Bowen, as his name appeared to be, was talking to a shorter man dressed in a monk's habit. Haku walked alongside Saint, who, like himself, said nothing. Haku tried to percieve what Saint could possibly be thinking, but his placid face kept any signs of emotion well-hidden.
They continued like this for quite some time. Finally, they reached the other side of the mountain. There, visible in the early afternoon sun, was Bjorn, one of the major cities of the region. Now there was just the slow, long hike down the slope, and the walk after that to Bjorn itself. The troupe pressed on without stopping.
-
Dragonium walked with one hand on his sword hilt.
He and Crag had left some minutes before the mother had fallen, seeing no further reason to stay. This way, they could reach Bjorn before night fell, and be able to rest properly before morning. None of the others would be too interested in going after the Dragon attacking Bjorn, and if they did they were fools. Anyone who went to face an elder Dragon alone was asking to die. Especially if they went out at night.
Dragonium and Crag were professionals. The Slayers' Circle and literally hundreds of years' experience guaranteed that. No matter how many Dragons some ordinary hunter fought, they were always vulnerable. They were never professionals.
The fact was, very few people outside the Circle knew of the Seed of Ages, and those who did were sworn to secrecy. Even so, the people with the knowledge were few and far between.
The two Slayers, who had reached the bottom of the path some ten minutes ahead of the others, were now within a short distance from the gates of Bjorn. Bjorn was a large, city, roughly square in shape, and it was a bustling trade town. Even from here, it was possible to hear the calling of the merchants as they tried to sell their wares before the evening. Somewhere, a Glareth called out; they were large, powerful beast with two legs and long tails, resembling a large lizard. They were widely used for their resilience and few requirements for keeping.
A whiff of coal smoke arrived on the breeze, probably from a blacksmith seeling swords and armour, followed by the delicious scent of broth from somewhere. Dragonium and Crag both stopped, as if following the same thought, and inhaled as much of the smell as they could.
"I could certainly go for some of that", sighed Crag.
"Aye", replied Dragonium, "I have more than enough coin in my pouch. We'll get some food and an inn for the night, and ask around while we do so. We can get information while we're there. In the morning we buy provisions and set off".
Crag licked his lips and nodded, still enjoying the scent.
"Shall we go?", asked Dragonium. Crag nodded again, and both set of at a brisk jog in the direction of the gates.
-
Saint became increasingly agitated. This party was boring. And there was a voice in his head telling him that something had to be done. He spun to face the startled Haku, but controlled himself.
"I'm leaving" he said in an offhand way. "You can meet me in the city." Then he sped off, ancious to fulfill this sudden lust for violence. His insanity always seemed like clarity for him: He suddenly understood what he must do. It was at times of sanity that Saint was truly most confused.
Saint quickly distanced himself from the group and reached Bjorn. He lingered at the large entrance and then placed his foot over the threshhold. Suddenly dragons weren't the most dangerous thing in the city.
-
Stopping to catch their breath, Dragonium and Crag surveyed the city of Bjorn.
It was still as happy and fun a town as they had left it. In Bjorn, there was always something to do, something to see, something to buy. There was little to no crime in Bjorn, apart from a few minor squabbles which seldom broke out. In fact, in other villages, the threat of a large Dragon would hang over the people and cause them to be always worried and anxious for their safety. Here, in Bjorn, if you didn't know there was a Dragon, you would never have guessed from the people.
These people got on with their lives. A Dragon was nothing special.
The two Slayers had reached the gates and gone a short way beyond, into a wide dusty street with basic stalls at either side. It was noisy and crowded, and the air held a slight smell of sweat and animal dung, but there were a lot of things to see, and plenty of other smells to enjoy.
Another Glareth strode past softly. Their bodies were perfectly level, with the neck and elongates lizard-like head in front and the long, pointed tail behind. Atop this particular beast was a splendid array of cloth and fabric to make even the wealthiest trader jealous. Some theorised that Glareths were a lesser-evolved form of Dragons, but this was probably incorrect; they were nowhere near as intelligent as a Dragon.
Dragonium looked around to find a bearing, to see if there was an Inn in the vicinity. It would be easy to get lost here.
As he looked around for a destination, two men bustled past, carrying a man on a stretcher. The injured party seemed to have been attacked by a Dragon, for the deep claw wounds to his chest and stomach bore all the signs of a Dragon attack. By the size of the gashes, this was not a very big Dragon. Probably a small one living in a forest somewher nearby. Dragonium's heart sank as he saw a shortsword at the man's belt. He had obviously initiated the fight, and he was obviously a hunter. They never learned.
The Glareth yawned widely, and licked its lips with a lazy expression.
It certainly had the right idea, thought Dragonium. They couldn;t do anything tonight, and the sun would begin to set in an hour or two, so it was probably for the best that they found a room for the night.
Saint strode past with a determined expression on his face, and Crag shot the older Slayer a familiar cynical expression. Whatever was wrong, it was Saint's business, not theirs.
Yes, there was business to attend to.
-
Haku stared after Saint for a moment. His sudden outburst had been completely random. No warning, no pretense, just 'goodbye' and speeding away.
Haku began walking again. So he was wandering by himself into one of the largest cities into the continent. True, the crime rate was low in Bjorn, but there was still the chance of robbery or homicide within those tall white walls that tried to keep the bustling city from spilling forth into the rest of the world.
Dusk had nearly settled by the time Haku reached the city gates. Only a few minutes later and he would have been locked out for the night, only to repeat the experiences he'd had last night. Only, he would have no companions this time.
Although the sun had set behind the mountains, the city was still busy. But rather than trying to sell their wares, the merchants were trying to pack up and get inside to their warm houses and the patrons hurried away to other parts of the city with bundles and baskets under their arms. There would be no such solace for Haku tonight. "You can meet me in the city," Saint had said. However, he had not said where in the city. He had a good half hour headstart on Haku, and any time lost trying to find an inn he would not even be able to afford to sleep in would be a waste of time.
Although the apparent dangers of the night rang through his head, Haku could still not understand the impulse he felt to find Saint. The man was sporadic, powerful, and possibly dangerous. Yet Haku felt somehow secure around Saint. A strange thing for someone he had met only two days ago. Perhaps it was because Saint seemed to be like himself, or because Saint was obviously more experienced in slaying than Haku.
The darkness claimed the city over the next hour, until the servicemen lit street lamps to illuminate the city once again. Crowds had thinned until the only people visible were those trying to sell something they shouldn't have, or the guards patrolling the walls, looking for anything unusual. Haku continued to wander the streets, looking for Saint.
-
The people of this town were stupid, Saint decided. They had little or no regard for the lives of others, and exploited whatever means they could for personal gain. Within the law, perhaps, but in Saint's mind they were still criminals.
A weapon shop. The low doorframe had a wooden sign hanging from it, forcing Saint to duck as he entered, which angered him.
"Welcome!" beamed a plump man at the counter. "What can I do for you?"
Saint said nothing and walked around. The dark floorboards creaked under his booted feet. He stooped and picked up a spear, beautifully crafted and clearly strong.
"Tell me" Saint enquired, "what you would do if a man came in here and told you his home was being attacked by a wyrm. Would you give him this weapon to fight it? Would you try to help?"
"What are you getting at?" Asked the man, his smile faded. "Your home is being attacked? If I were you I would wait for a slayer to arrive. You mustn't put yourself in danger."
"I can fight" assured Saint. And my family are trapped in my home. Every second you debate over giving me the spear, their lives are further in danger. I have some money but not enough to pay for the spear. Hurry!"
The man was clearly flustered. "Well how much have you got?" I could give you a discount.." The man stopped because the spear was through his shoulder. He cried out at the pain.
"A discount? so you would charge for the saving of a life? You are nothing."
The man was crying. This grey haired stranger was clearly mad. There was no answer that would have satisfied him.
Saint moved over to the counter and placed some coins on it. Then he spun to face the pinned storeowner and looked straight into his eyes. "I will make you a deal." Saint said. "I will give you the money on the counter, and spare your life, if you will give me the spear.. and aid me in killing many more people. Or, I will kill you, and then I will stop the killing at you and spare the others. What do you say?"
The man took little time to make up his mind. "I'll do anything" he cried, "I'll help you kill someone else. you can even keep the money. Just spare my life."
If Saint hadn't had an excuse to kill the man before, he did now. The commoners would no longer hide their selfishness behind their shark's grins. He thrust his knife into the mans heart for a quick death, and pulled his new spear free, avoiding the bleeding.
Justice had been served. Now Saint wanted some rest.
-
The two Slayers were once again forced to stop in their tracks.
They had established a location for a decent Inn which was not overpriced, and though it had taken a scant few minutes to get the information from a shopkeeper, it was a quarter-hour's walk to get to the destination.
But now the road was blocked as a pair of men in similar clothes to the rest of the townspeople bustled past from the doorway of a weapon shop, carrying a man on a stretcher. Apparently he was the owner, and he seemed to have been stabbed twice, though it was the second thrust which had killed him.
It was intriguing that none of the other people about the town stopped in their business to see what was happening. Killings in the city were very rare, but when one occurred, the people thought nothing of it. They took death in their stride. The only people to get upset over this man's death would be his closest family.
That wasn't right, but still. Bjorn was a safe city. Perfect for a restful living.
After a silent walk through the streets, they found the Golden Peacock Inn and went inside. It was a small, cosy establishment, mostly furnished with wood and animal bone, with candles on the walls and a small number of men who appeared to miners or foresters, or some such physical trade. Some of them were hunters. In the center of the main wall was a large round counter, and behind which were a trio of buxom young maids who handled the drinks and requests of the Inn's visitors. There were stairs leading up to the rooms, and a large notice board clogged with messages.
Dragonium investigated this first, ignoring the glances from the menfolk as he did so. The notices here were actually requests for missing objects or the slaying of particular monsters. All were written in the same style, and all had a reward. He had observed this before. If someone requested a task such as this, they wrote their request and posted it onto the board, paying the serving-girl the amount they wished as a reward. If someone wished to attempt one of these, they took the paper to the serving-girl, and if they were successful, they recieved the reward. The Inn handled everything else.
It was a service primarily for hunters, but ordinary people attempted some tasks.
Dragonium scanned some of the tasks available. Many people had requested the slaying of Dragons which had hassled them. Not very difficult tasks for a Slayer, but for hunters they presented a challenge. To his disappointment, there were none requesting for the large Dragon around Bjorn to be taken care of. Evidently it had not been reported - if hunters thought they could take care of such a thing, they would be killed easily, so it was for the best that they were not given the opportunity.
"We set off tomorrow", Dragonium said to Crag. "I can track a large Dragon. We'll find it tomorrow".
Crag nodded, and they went off to order a room for the night.