The sun had set not long ago on the island. The green glow of the sky on the horizon was all that was left of the days light and inky-blue darkness crept in like a blanket. A chorus of cricket song and animal cries surrounded the settlement, a song they heard every night beyond sundown.
The sky was clear and dotted with a mass of stars, accompanied by the two signature moons that watched over the land every night. A large, dusty red moon, twined with a smaller white moon close by its side.
Smoke rose from the center of the settlement, the smell of cooking fish and pork. Gigantic fish turned on two separate spits and in a deep cauldron bubbled a meaty pork stew full of chopped root vegetables and beans. This time every night, the social members of the town would gather by the communal fire-pit to eat, talk and sometimes sing together.
It had been rare occasions that the young leader had joined them after a great many times trying to and finding himself shunned. The warriors hated him. They hated the decision that the shaman woman had made. Every last one of them thought themselves worthy of leadership but not the lad, soon to turn only 18 years old.
Tonight was one of the exceptions. Prince Ganuu'bit, though he had the company of Arruk'tul and his own dragon, Knuterot, he found himself often feeling isolated in the empty riders-keep. It was with the foreboding shadow of his immense dragon that he descended down toward the clearing, landing on one of the large rocky platforms atop the back of his bonded companion.
Knuterot climbed down with loud, crunching steps and found himself a comfortable place at one of the corners of the clearing behind an empty bench, his burning, fiery eyes darting between each of those staring at them upon their arrival as if daring them to say anything. A smoky huff exhaled through his nostrils as if to emphasize the look.
Ganuu’bit turned and used the young(ish) dragon’s mane to climb down with practiced ease, but when he turned to smile warmly at those waiting to eat they had already turned back to their conversations. “Good Evening” he told them all, only to be met with silence by a large majority.
“You should let me make an example of them. Burn a few of them to a crisp” his dragon suggested deeply to his bonded troll, speaking into his mind, unheard by any others “no… no, it is what it is…” the prince sighed and sat down on the bench, waiting for the food to be ready and watching ‘his people’, though, he still had a lot of convincing to do, even now.
The sky was clear and dotted with a mass of stars, accompanied by the two signature moons that watched over the land every night. A large, dusty red moon, twined with a smaller white moon close by its side.
Smoke rose from the center of the settlement, the smell of cooking fish and pork. Gigantic fish turned on two separate spits and in a deep cauldron bubbled a meaty pork stew full of chopped root vegetables and beans. This time every night, the social members of the town would gather by the communal fire-pit to eat, talk and sometimes sing together.
It had been rare occasions that the young leader had joined them after a great many times trying to and finding himself shunned. The warriors hated him. They hated the decision that the shaman woman had made. Every last one of them thought themselves worthy of leadership but not the lad, soon to turn only 18 years old.
Tonight was one of the exceptions. Prince Ganuu'bit, though he had the company of Arruk'tul and his own dragon, Knuterot, he found himself often feeling isolated in the empty riders-keep. It was with the foreboding shadow of his immense dragon that he descended down toward the clearing, landing on one of the large rocky platforms atop the back of his bonded companion.
Knuterot climbed down with loud, crunching steps and found himself a comfortable place at one of the corners of the clearing behind an empty bench, his burning, fiery eyes darting between each of those staring at them upon their arrival as if daring them to say anything. A smoky huff exhaled through his nostrils as if to emphasize the look.
Ganuu’bit turned and used the young(ish) dragon’s mane to climb down with practiced ease, but when he turned to smile warmly at those waiting to eat they had already turned back to their conversations. “Good Evening” he told them all, only to be met with silence by a large majority.
“You should let me make an example of them. Burn a few of them to a crisp” his dragon suggested deeply to his bonded troll, speaking into his mind, unheard by any others “no… no, it is what it is…” the prince sighed and sat down on the bench, waiting for the food to be ready and watching ‘his people’, though, he still had a lot of convincing to do, even now.
Inka'yur was not widely adored among Kongensvik's settlers. Many blamed her for choosing Ganuu'bit as leader, for it was easier to blame a mortal troll than the spirits of blood and dragonfire. Despite this, none questioned her place of honor right beside the bonfire. Inka was very old and very magical, and no one wanted to be cursed.
The shaman stared into the licking flames as their heat seeped into her old bones. Two tikis, a mated pair, flitted around her head a few times before landing on a twig that protruded from her dense white mane. Yet almost as soon as they had landed they took off again, squeaking and peeping. Inka looked up as Knuterot descended from the rocky outcrop, though both he and his rider opted to keep their distance. With a groan, she used her staff to heave herself onto her feet and began to hobble towards him. Trolls silently made way.
"Ganuu'bit," she greeted, coming to a halt in front of him. "Come to the fire."
The shaman stared into the licking flames as their heat seeped into her old bones. Two tikis, a mated pair, flitted around her head a few times before landing on a twig that protruded from her dense white mane. Yet almost as soon as they had landed they took off again, squeaking and peeping. Inka looked up as Knuterot descended from the rocky outcrop, though both he and his rider opted to keep their distance. With a groan, she used her staff to heave herself onto her feet and began to hobble towards him. Trolls silently made way.
"Ganuu'bit," she greeted, coming to a halt in front of him. "Come to the fire."
Ganuu had hardly noticed the shaman was there. She often looked like a rock or some part of the scenery in the wrong lighting. He saw her distinctive hobbling and he rose quickly to his feet, both out of respect and concern.
His long tail curled closer to him as he regarded her with wide eyes. Something about the shaman just made him feel younger than he was, like a nervous child around an ancient. To be fair, it wasn't far from the truth in regards to their differences in age.
Knuterot lowered his head toward Inka'yur and flared his nostrils, his face moving close to hers until his gigantic maw pressed very gently up against the side of her face. Rummhh... he rumbled aloud before lifting his head back away from her, tucking his head behind Ganuu'bit and shoving him forward with a nudge of his snout.
The troll nearly fell into Inka but stopped short of doing so, frowning and dusting himself off with a look cast back to the dragon. "Yes Lady Inka" he said softly and offered her his arm for extra support if she needed it, to walk them back towards the fire.
"Its been... a while." he said softly, ears drooping a little with guilt. "How are you faring?"
His long tail curled closer to him as he regarded her with wide eyes. Something about the shaman just made him feel younger than he was, like a nervous child around an ancient. To be fair, it wasn't far from the truth in regards to their differences in age.
Knuterot lowered his head toward Inka'yur and flared his nostrils, his face moving close to hers until his gigantic maw pressed very gently up against the side of her face. Rummhh... he rumbled aloud before lifting his head back away from her, tucking his head behind Ganuu'bit and shoving him forward with a nudge of his snout.
The troll nearly fell into Inka but stopped short of doing so, frowning and dusting himself off with a look cast back to the dragon. "Yes Lady Inka" he said softly and offered her his arm for extra support if she needed it, to walk them back towards the fire.
"Its been... a while." he said softly, ears drooping a little with guilt. "How are you faring?"
As the dragon lowered his great head, Inka promptly ignored Ganuu in favor of the beast. She scooped his chin with one hand and pulled it close against her cheek. Though she had never shared a bond with a dragon, she still felt quite close to Knuterot, given that it was her ritual that had selected him out of his peers. "Yes, hello," she said, planting a kiss upon his snout before releasing him.
Her pale eyes fixed on Ganuu once more, unflinching as the young troll nearly tumbled into her. She took the proferred arm and used it for support, but even so, her pace was terribly slow.
"Yes. You should feel guilty. Ignoring the changing leaves won't stop the winter." Inka always had a way of dragging discomfort out into the light. She didn't see the point in pussyfooting. "And I fare as well as I ever have, child, and so it will continue until the day I keel over dead ... which will be around dinnertime, by the way. But I am not who you should be worrying about."
Her pale eyes fixed on Ganuu once more, unflinching as the young troll nearly tumbled into her. She took the proferred arm and used it for support, but even so, her pace was terribly slow.
"Yes. You should feel guilty. Ignoring the changing leaves won't stop the winter." Inka always had a way of dragging discomfort out into the light. She didn't see the point in pussyfooting. "And I fare as well as I ever have, child, and so it will continue until the day I keel over dead ... which will be around dinnertime, by the way. But I am not who you should be worrying about."
Ganuu tensed as she told him he should feel guilty, sprouting short words of wisdom as she always did. His ears drooped even further "I know Shaman Inka... but what can I do? I have no training, I didn't ask for this. I didn't expect this..." he sighed as he regarded the cold looks of his people.
"I just don't know what I can do to prove myself to them" he admitted, thinking it was his people she meant he needed to worry about. He grunted as he helped her sit back down, lips quirking downward at the mention of the woman's own demise. It was hard enough WITH her help, let alone without it... that and he'd have been heartbroken to see the old woman go.
Sitting down beside her his long tail curled close to his body "I care about them but if they won't accept me what can I do? I cannot force them... and I certainly can't cook a few of them as Knuterot frequently suggests" he shot a look to the smug looking dragon in the shadows of the trees.
"I just don't know what I can do to prove myself to them" he admitted, thinking it was his people she meant he needed to worry about. He grunted as he helped her sit back down, lips quirking downward at the mention of the woman's own demise. It was hard enough WITH her help, let alone without it... that and he'd have been heartbroken to see the old woman go.
Sitting down beside her his long tail curled close to his body "I care about them but if they won't accept me what can I do? I cannot force them... and I certainly can't cook a few of them as Knuterot frequently suggests" he shot a look to the smug looking dragon in the shadows of the trees.
The other dragonpair's arrival was first heralded in the whisper of great wings overhead, and a less-graceful thunk of a landing and a "hrk-!" not so graceful at all, some distance away.
"Who is cooking whom, here? "
Knuterot, first, would be privy to green eyes in the dark as Ylvarød approached; three, if one was tempted to count the fire's glint off of the crystal atop her head. And secondly, the scent of a snuffter - or at least a fairly sizeable amount of what remained of one - was primply dropped at her feet to rest in the space between her paws as she settled down, near the male.
A considerably smaller, crumbly crunch marked Arruk'tul's dismount, as graceful as Ylva's landing was overeager. Ganuu's entrance (and its stony reception) was largely missed, by sheer and tardy accident it had seemed.
His own residual sourness was oft reserved for the situation, rather than the kid. And, periodically, the old woman next to him - there was but a slight pause in the rhythm of his step upon seeing Inka, as - after a brief detour to partake in the food, he approached.
"Oh, it's not quite as hopeless. You've some who have your support," he purred, cooked fish in hand, to sweep up to Ganuu'bit's other side, though he refrained from sitting or otherwise making himself comfortable, just yet. His tone remained soft, not quite obtrusive despite his timing.
"Me. And Ylvarød. That's what...several trolls worth of support there, already? Heh. I mean look at her, brings her own snack..."
"Who is cooking whom, here? "
Knuterot, first, would be privy to green eyes in the dark as Ylvarød approached; three, if one was tempted to count the fire's glint off of the crystal atop her head. And secondly, the scent of a snuffter - or at least a fairly sizeable amount of what remained of one - was primply dropped at her feet to rest in the space between her paws as she settled down, near the male.
A considerably smaller, crumbly crunch marked Arruk'tul's dismount, as graceful as Ylva's landing was overeager. Ganuu's entrance (and its stony reception) was largely missed, by sheer and tardy accident it had seemed.
His own residual sourness was oft reserved for the situation, rather than the kid. And, periodically, the old woman next to him - there was but a slight pause in the rhythm of his step upon seeing Inka, as - after a brief detour to partake in the food, he approached.
"Oh, it's not quite as hopeless. You've some who have your support," he purred, cooked fish in hand, to sweep up to Ganuu'bit's other side, though he refrained from sitting or otherwise making himself comfortable, just yet. His tone remained soft, not quite obtrusive despite his timing.
"Me. And Ylvarød. That's what...several trolls worth of support there, already? Heh. I mean look at her, brings her own snack..."
"No one asks for the yoke of destiny," Inka said, glowering up at the young troll, "and it is unbecoming of you to complain about it." With a great groaning and creaking, the old troll eased herself down on a log beside the fire. Her eyes settled on the flames again as if she saw something dancing within them.
"Do not try to win their hearts. Just provide for them. Support them. They will either come around, or they will not, but none can deny your divine right to lead. And if the time comes that you must lead them into battle or negotiate some great schism ... you will be fine." She nodded, still not looking at him. "The ritual chose Knuterot, and Knuterot chose you. You will do fine."
As Arruk approached them, Inka's nostrils flared, potentially in distaste, though she did back him up. "This is true ... there are a few who believe in you."
"Do not try to win their hearts. Just provide for them. Support them. They will either come around, or they will not, but none can deny your divine right to lead. And if the time comes that you must lead them into battle or negotiate some great schism ... you will be fine." She nodded, still not looking at him. "The ritual chose Knuterot, and Knuterot chose you. You will do fine."
As Arruk approached them, Inka's nostrils flared, potentially in distaste, though she did back him up. "This is true ... there are a few who believe in you."
The cool tone of the shaman caused a glow of amber across the trolls markings and in his eyes, ears drooping sharply downward "Yes Shaman" he said quietly as the glow faded to a softer one but didn't quite disappear.
He had been working hard regardless of the cold shoulder his people had given him for many months now, not that it was particularly appreciated yet. He said very little else until Ylvarød appeared, along with Arruk. He smiled warmly at his only fellow rider and reached out to pat at his wrist firmly in a brotherly greeting. They were alone in this, after all, but they had each other. Hopefully Arruk's dragon was the future mate of his own, too. Both of them hoped for such.
"Arruk, you've come to eat with us I hope?... I always have appreciated your support, brother." brother in riding, that was.
"I'm going to fetch some food. It has been a long day." he bowed his head to Inka "Would you like me to bring you anything?" it would be rude not to offer, and after all, she probably didn't need to be getting up and down too much.
He looked back over to his dragon companion as he felt the males joy at the females arrival, followed by domineering arrogance.
'Do NOT cause an argument tonight' he told his dragon silently via their connection.
Knuterot perked up quickly at the sound of wings on the wind, ears flicking forward. Spotting Ylvarød he rumbled and tilted his chin up to make himself look important.
Seeing the carcass she dropped beside him (for herself) he leaned over with a sudden, terrifying snarl that caused a lot at the fire to freeze and look over, some got behind a tree just in case.
The beast of a male tried to snatch the meat toward himself and clamp it between his claws. HE was the leader and all meat belonged to him unless he allowed the female to have some! If she would not be his queen, she would not be treated as a queen.
Ganuu visibly cringed. 'And you wonder why she doesn't want you'
'Do not question the way of a dragon, my bonded. She must give her food willingly to her leader, you would do well to treat your own kind the same way' Knute replied stubbornly.
He had been working hard regardless of the cold shoulder his people had given him for many months now, not that it was particularly appreciated yet. He said very little else until Ylvarød appeared, along with Arruk. He smiled warmly at his only fellow rider and reached out to pat at his wrist firmly in a brotherly greeting. They were alone in this, after all, but they had each other. Hopefully Arruk's dragon was the future mate of his own, too. Both of them hoped for such.
"Arruk, you've come to eat with us I hope?... I always have appreciated your support, brother." brother in riding, that was.
"I'm going to fetch some food. It has been a long day." he bowed his head to Inka "Would you like me to bring you anything?" it would be rude not to offer, and after all, she probably didn't need to be getting up and down too much.
He looked back over to his dragon companion as he felt the males joy at the females arrival, followed by domineering arrogance.
'Do NOT cause an argument tonight' he told his dragon silently via their connection.
Knuterot perked up quickly at the sound of wings on the wind, ears flicking forward. Spotting Ylvarød he rumbled and tilted his chin up to make himself look important.
Seeing the carcass she dropped beside him (for herself) he leaned over with a sudden, terrifying snarl that caused a lot at the fire to freeze and look over, some got behind a tree just in case.
The beast of a male tried to snatch the meat toward himself and clamp it between his claws. HE was the leader and all meat belonged to him unless he allowed the female to have some! If she would not be his queen, she would not be treated as a queen.
Ganuu visibly cringed. 'And you wonder why she doesn't want you'
'Do not question the way of a dragon, my bonded. She must give her food willingly to her leader, you would do well to treat your own kind the same way' Knute replied stubbornly.
Uma bounded over to the fire once her chores were done. Today she had helped with the weaving of some nets for the fishertrolls. A recent addition to the settlement, she was still trying to find her place within the community. Admittedly her skill with the needle and her brief cooking stint helped a bit. Still the girl was at the stage where she sought approval.
As the dragons landed, she stood in awe at the edge of the bonfire's light, watching them with a smile as she recalled how her father had tended to his. There was a swell of emotions but she let it wash over her, focusing on the majesty of the dragons. The young prince was ignored, partially because she wasn't sure what to think of him just yet. Shunned by a good number, she wondered if it was a good thing to be associated with him.
When Knuterot went for the meat and snarled, the girl gave a surprised yelp, falling onto her rump as she lept backwards.
As the dragons landed, she stood in awe at the edge of the bonfire's light, watching them with a smile as she recalled how her father had tended to his. There was a swell of emotions but she let it wash over her, focusing on the majesty of the dragons. The young prince was ignored, partially because she wasn't sure what to think of him just yet. Shunned by a good number, she wondered if it was a good thing to be associated with him.
When Knuterot went for the meat and snarled, the girl gave a surprised yelp, falling onto her rump as she lept backwards.
If Inka noticed Ganuu flaring up, she didn't react. The shaman was notoriously brusque, and had no patience for complaining, even when it was justified. She fully believed that the settlers would eventually come around to their young chief, anyway--it was just a matter of time and perseverance.
Inka had been waiting for someone to offer her food, so she instantly nodded when Ganuu offered. She continued to stare into the flames. "Yes. Nothing too chewy. And make sure it's still hot."
Her gaze finally moved, settling now on young Uma. "Keep your distance, child, lest you lose a hand to one of them."
Inka had been waiting for someone to offer her food, so she instantly nodded when Ganuu offered. She continued to stare into the flames. "Yes. Nothing too chewy. And make sure it's still hot."
Her gaze finally moved, settling now on young Uma. "Keep your distance, child, lest you lose a hand to one of them."
Ganuu'bit tried to listen to Inka but his attention did snap away a few times to be sure that Knute wasn't going to start fighting with Ylva as usual. That was when Uma fell however and he looked over to the child, smiling, moving over to offer a hand to help her up "You're safe. They won't hurt you, ...not intentionally" he said with certainty, their dragons were loyal to the people of Kongensvik after all, but a play fight to a dragon was a potential loss of life to anyone stupid enough to get too close "Why don't you join us?" he told the little girl with a smile "...Uu.. uh, remind me of your name again?" he knew her face in passing.
"I'll get you some food Shaman Inka" he promised and after helping Uma up, would disappear over to the food. He sorted Inka out a plate with the suggestions of the cook, flaky white fish and soft roasted mixed root vegetables. Gibbit opted for the stew, taking two large portions back over. The softer meal was handed carefully to Inka, making sure she had it before he would sit on the bench beside her with his own food.
The troll tipped his wooden bowl to his lips, drinking down a mouthful of stew. "I often... look at the others here" he said to none of them in particular, Inka, Uma, Arruk, whoever would listen "And I wonder who will be among our next riders... try to picture them with their dragons, what they might be like as riders." he smiled weakly, he wanted to see it. He was still, after all this time, coming to terms with the fact that he was a rider. It was something he had never expected to happen to him.
"I just hope these two start getting along soon so we can have our first clutch" he looked toward them "But alas we cannot expect them to mate simply because there are no other options. We will see in time... " he just hoped it was sooner rather than later. So many hopefuls, and so little defense for their city.
"I'll get you some food Shaman Inka" he promised and after helping Uma up, would disappear over to the food. He sorted Inka out a plate with the suggestions of the cook, flaky white fish and soft roasted mixed root vegetables. Gibbit opted for the stew, taking two large portions back over. The softer meal was handed carefully to Inka, making sure she had it before he would sit on the bench beside her with his own food.
The troll tipped his wooden bowl to his lips, drinking down a mouthful of stew. "I often... look at the others here" he said to none of them in particular, Inka, Uma, Arruk, whoever would listen "And I wonder who will be among our next riders... try to picture them with their dragons, what they might be like as riders." he smiled weakly, he wanted to see it. He was still, after all this time, coming to terms with the fact that he was a rider. It was something he had never expected to happen to him.
"I just hope these two start getting along soon so we can have our first clutch" he looked toward them "But alas we cannot expect them to mate simply because there are no other options. We will see in time... " he just hoped it was sooner rather than later. So many hopefuls, and so little defense for their city.
Uma glanced over at Inka when the shaman spoke of the dragons possibly biting her hands off! A slight shiver went through her body at the thought, and she glanced at her hands before she noticed that Ganuu'bit had his hand out to help her up.
The girl glanced at the offered hand, then at him, uncertain about it. If she accepted his hand.. what would it mean? She had trusted the old prince, and while hesitant, he was a dragon rider, just like her father. That had to count for something.
So she accepted his help and stood up with a smile, nodding her head at the offer to join them. "Uma, my name is Uma," she said as she found a rock to sit on, brushing it aside to enjoy the warmth the fire afforded.
At the mention of the hopefuls, Uma nodded her head. "I hope I can help more when I grow older." A glance was given to the old city, ears tilting back as she scowled at that direction. The young child clenched her fist tightly before releasing it.
The girl glanced at the offered hand, then at him, uncertain about it. If she accepted his hand.. what would it mean? She had trusted the old prince, and while hesitant, he was a dragon rider, just like her father. That had to count for something.
So she accepted his help and stood up with a smile, nodding her head at the offer to join them. "Uma, my name is Uma," she said as she found a rock to sit on, brushing it aside to enjoy the warmth the fire afforded.
At the mention of the hopefuls, Uma nodded her head. "I hope I can help more when I grow older." A glance was given to the old city, ears tilting back as she scowled at that direction. The young child clenched her fist tightly before releasing it.
Inka took the food that Ganuu offered her without thanking him--she expected others to do as she requested, due to both her age and status. The wizened woman was missing quite a few teeth, so it took her some time to eat even a few bites of her meal, though the fish was flaky and the tubers softened.
All the while, she continued to stare into the fire. It danced and licked at the sky, dark smoke and smoldering haze warping and obscuring the stars that were emerging above it. She could see shadows of the timbers inside, being broken down to nothing heat and charcoal and ash. The flames undulated, billowing upward and toward her, forming strange shapes. They rolled like ocean waves, cresting and crashing and foaming, with the silhouette of great wings cast upon them. "Shadow of wings, loyal to kings," she muttered.
Inka narrowed her eyes and focused. To anyone else, the fire would appear perfectly normal. A second shadow joined the first, cast from Knuterot's four-horned head and fluffy neck, though the shaman could not see the dragons themselves. The shadows came together and parted over and over in a vicious dance, snapping and clawing. People were yelling and scrambling for cover. "Shadow of wings, loyal to kings."
Inka closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the vision was gone. Her heart sank and her face grew grave. "Ganuu'bit, a grave danger approaches," she said somberly, struggling to her feet with help from her staff.
All the while, she continued to stare into the fire. It danced and licked at the sky, dark smoke and smoldering haze warping and obscuring the stars that were emerging above it. She could see shadows of the timbers inside, being broken down to nothing heat and charcoal and ash. The flames undulated, billowing upward and toward her, forming strange shapes. They rolled like ocean waves, cresting and crashing and foaming, with the silhouette of great wings cast upon them. "Shadow of wings, loyal to kings," she muttered.
Inka narrowed her eyes and focused. To anyone else, the fire would appear perfectly normal. A second shadow joined the first, cast from Knuterot's four-horned head and fluffy neck, though the shaman could not see the dragons themselves. The shadows came together and parted over and over in a vicious dance, snapping and clawing. People were yelling and scrambling for cover. "Shadow of wings, loyal to kings."
Inka closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the vision was gone. Her heart sank and her face grew grave. "Ganuu'bit, a grave danger approaches," she said somberly, struggling to her feet with help from her staff.
The declaration of grave danger was punctuated by an eerie, temple piercing shriek from the treetops.
It is said by some that the forces of fate have a sense of humor.
It may be that they're just terrible with a mortal conception of time.
A keen eye might have noticed the shadow cutting through the stars and perhaps felt the eyes of others bearing down upon them; as the young dragons squabbled and the shaman struggled to her feet, predatory circles tightened from survey through the tree cover to decisive action. The scowl of a young girl towards the memory of her past was responded to as promptly as if it had been summoned.
The fully grown dragon dove like a searing wind with skill, banking sharply through the trees and whipping the flames of the campfire towards the gathered harshly - continuing past as it cut through the town rattling cabins, stirring up dust, and putting out torches.
A secondary shadow dropped from the dragon as it passed low enough and a tall figure landed with considerable force and the rattle of armor, an invader in the dark rising from a shock absorbing crouch with the sound of drawing weaponry.
In the moments that followed as the dragon came back around, those around the flames perhaps had just enough time to absorb their situation before the phantom interrupted with a deep chested roar of challenge - unseen features lit up with sinister pale blue markings that suggested a most strange appearance.
The dragon echoed the scream as it 'landed', sinking claws deep into the bark of a huge tree and climbing up to loom down at those around the bonfire with critical eyes. In particular baring teeth of warning at Ylvarød and Knuterot. Now that the dragon was still, her distinct (and perhaps familiar) appearance could be taken in; quite large and of unmistakable crest, mottled hide the color of a lilac sunset with eyes and gem burning a poisonous pink in the dark.
“Prince Buutar!” a thick and grumbling baritone boomed. “Show yourself!”
It was the steps of a rather large and heavy troll that began approaching the center of town and the reach of firelight.
It is said by some that the forces of fate have a sense of humor.
It may be that they're just terrible with a mortal conception of time.
A keen eye might have noticed the shadow cutting through the stars and perhaps felt the eyes of others bearing down upon them; as the young dragons squabbled and the shaman struggled to her feet, predatory circles tightened from survey through the tree cover to decisive action. The scowl of a young girl towards the memory of her past was responded to as promptly as if it had been summoned.
The fully grown dragon dove like a searing wind with skill, banking sharply through the trees and whipping the flames of the campfire towards the gathered harshly - continuing past as it cut through the town rattling cabins, stirring up dust, and putting out torches.
A secondary shadow dropped from the dragon as it passed low enough and a tall figure landed with considerable force and the rattle of armor, an invader in the dark rising from a shock absorbing crouch with the sound of drawing weaponry.
In the moments that followed as the dragon came back around, those around the flames perhaps had just enough time to absorb their situation before the phantom interrupted with a deep chested roar of challenge - unseen features lit up with sinister pale blue markings that suggested a most strange appearance.
The dragon echoed the scream as it 'landed', sinking claws deep into the bark of a huge tree and climbing up to loom down at those around the bonfire with critical eyes. In particular baring teeth of warning at Ylvarød and Knuterot. Now that the dragon was still, her distinct (and perhaps familiar) appearance could be taken in; quite large and of unmistakable crest, mottled hide the color of a lilac sunset with eyes and gem burning a poisonous pink in the dark.
“Prince Buutar!” a thick and grumbling baritone boomed. “Show yourself!”
It was the steps of a rather large and heavy troll that began approaching the center of town and the reach of firelight.
Ganuu barely managed to get one mouthful of stew into his mouth before Inka started mumbling "Shaman...?" he uttered. He stood quickly and set his bowl aside "What?- whe-" the shriek of a dragon overhead drew the immediate attention of likely the only two dragons that lived here. Knuterot was immediately on his feet and stomping his way over toward Ganuu, who had to pick Uma up quickly by her shoulders and guide her to Inka "Into the trees with Inka.- Everyone into the trees, underground!" he called to them urgently. "Arruk- get Ylvarod to Klekkeri! protect our female" he urged frantically.
Why underground? well...needless to say, the moment a dragon had shrieked overhead the clearing had become lit with the markings of every startled or frightened villager. Ganuu'bit's own markings glowed bright amber. The settlers all ducked and yelled in anger or fear as the dragon swept low overhead, putting out the sconces and scattering the firewood from the bonfire across the circle.
The illusion that they were safe had lasted a rather long time, but here he was... someone here for... well, the dead prince. Right, this invader had no idea did he? that the prince had died. Many warriors or stubborn settlers stayed at the edges of the clearing, weapons drawn, a mix of spears, swords and maces for the most part.
Both Knuterot and Ganuu stared up at the gigantic, far older dragon with narrowed eyes, not catching the shadow of a man dropping to the ground. Thus, Mahi's appearance from the trees, glowing like a demon, was utterly unexpected. Both dragon and rider snapped their gaze to Mahi and the troll looked around frantically for a weapon. "Lend me your sword!" he called to the edge of the clearing and a muttering of 'can't he summon one...?' came before an iron sword was thrown like a javelin where it clattered unceremoniously in the dirt a distance away. "Knute- watch the dragon" he told his companion silently as he scrambled for the long sword and picked it up awkwardly as if he were about as practiced in sword fighting as a fish was in air-breathing.
He turned about, sword held in front of him, terrible stance, turning to face Mahi with his teeth and tusks bared in a snarl. A low growl rattled in his throat as his tail flicked and he stepped forward "He's not here. What do you want?" he snapped protectively. he wouldn't tell Mahi straight away that the prince had perished, lest it work in his favour.
Why underground? well...needless to say, the moment a dragon had shrieked overhead the clearing had become lit with the markings of every startled or frightened villager. Ganuu'bit's own markings glowed bright amber. The settlers all ducked and yelled in anger or fear as the dragon swept low overhead, putting out the sconces and scattering the firewood from the bonfire across the circle.
The illusion that they were safe had lasted a rather long time, but here he was... someone here for... well, the dead prince. Right, this invader had no idea did he? that the prince had died. Many warriors or stubborn settlers stayed at the edges of the clearing, weapons drawn, a mix of spears, swords and maces for the most part.
Both Knuterot and Ganuu stared up at the gigantic, far older dragon with narrowed eyes, not catching the shadow of a man dropping to the ground. Thus, Mahi's appearance from the trees, glowing like a demon, was utterly unexpected. Both dragon and rider snapped their gaze to Mahi and the troll looked around frantically for a weapon. "Lend me your sword!" he called to the edge of the clearing and a muttering of 'can't he summon one...?' came before an iron sword was thrown like a javelin where it clattered unceremoniously in the dirt a distance away. "Knute- watch the dragon" he told his companion silently as he scrambled for the long sword and picked it up awkwardly as if he were about as practiced in sword fighting as a fish was in air-breathing.
He turned about, sword held in front of him, terrible stance, turning to face Mahi with his teeth and tusks bared in a snarl. A low growl rattled in his throat as his tail flicked and he stepped forward "He's not here. What do you want?" he snapped protectively. he wouldn't tell Mahi straight away that the prince had perished, lest it work in his favour.
Uma glanced towards Inka when she heard that something dangerous was coming... and as if on cue, the flying shadow swooped past them. The girl closed her eyes and braced herself against any flying embers that came from the campfire from the dragon's movements.
As Ganuu picked her up by the shoulders and guided her towards Inka, Uma offered her hand to the older woman to assist her in movement if needed towards a hiding spot. She was putting on a brave front but anyone touching her hands would find her trembling from fear... especially when the howl for the deceased prince came roaring through the air.
As Ganuu picked her up by the shoulders and guided her towards Inka, Uma offered her hand to the older woman to assist her in movement if needed towards a hiding spot. She was putting on a brave front but anyone touching her hands would find her trembling from fear... especially when the howl for the deceased prince came roaring through the air.
Inka stared at the sky, watching the stars wink out in a long swath as the dragon flew under them. She displayed no fear, with not even a faint flicker from her markings. She had, after all, forseen this. It was Ganuu'bit's first real test.
When Uma was thrust towards her, the shaman reached for her trembling hand. They supported each other, in different ways. The elder troll leaned on the girl and used her to keep up her speed, but she was utterly stoic, seeming to even exude an aura of calmness. Once they had reached the trees, Inka looked back to the bonfire--namely to where she knew her dinner had been scattered--and mumbled a curse.
The shaman was not foolish enough to stand in the open, but neither did she retreat all the way underground. She stood where she could watch the proceedings even if the details were lost. The identity of the rider did surprise her--he was someone that she had never expected to see again. "Mahi'onn," said Inka softly, eyes narrowing.
When Uma was thrust towards her, the shaman reached for her trembling hand. They supported each other, in different ways. The elder troll leaned on the girl and used her to keep up her speed, but she was utterly stoic, seeming to even exude an aura of calmness. Once they had reached the trees, Inka looked back to the bonfire--namely to where she knew her dinner had been scattered--and mumbled a curse.
The shaman was not foolish enough to stand in the open, but neither did she retreat all the way underground. She stood where she could watch the proceedings even if the details were lost. The identity of the rider did surprise her--he was someone that she had never expected to see again. "Mahi'onn," said Inka softly, eyes narrowing.
"Just a snack, yes, heh. The interesting conversation is clearly over here, anyway!" Arruk sat by Ganuu's other side, folding lanky and gray limbs up into a cross-legged position, tail draping loosely behind.
"Better here than the surly folk over there, anyway, heh." It was already evident upon their faces, hardly a new fact, and there was something freeing about bringing it to the table. "Gets tiring after a bit. Even if it is secondhand..." It wasn't empathy, not exactly. But as close to understanding Ganuu's predicament as the older fellow would appear to manage.
Though as the dragons nearby began to fuss over food, Arruk sighed. "Though I must admit, it appears it'll continue to be just us, at this rate." Where he once found it fortuitous that they'd managed one male, one female in their pilfered collection, Arruk, despite the equal parts training and improvisation both he and Ganuu had to bring to rearing their dragons, had to finally face the situation with a reluctant resignation, hoping both dragons would grow out of it.
Both dragons grew, certainly.
Ylva let fly a hoarse and indignant hufffff that would've been a tempered roar in the absence of polite company, and petulantly lunged to grab at her spoils - but any further move was interrupted! Treacherous sky, spoiling her chances!
Luckily her rider saw the danger where Ylva first saw the annoyance and leaped back to his feet. "Oh, no. Not you, not here, we're going-!"
He'd every intention of fleeing - though unlike Inka and Uma's situation, hiding a'dragonback was considerably more of a difficult feat to accomplish! But her leftovers could have very well been Knuterot's, after all - Would have been, had we allowed him continue. Is no lie, Ylva grumbled, and Arruk snorted in spite of himself. How she stil managed to be surly about the other fellow was beyond him!
And Ganuu'bit's command was a sensible one: getting Ylva back to Klekkeri - the importance of an egg-layer should have far outweighed Arruk's own pride (even if she'd yet to carry) - though as the intruders approached, as the flicker of blue and oddly-shaped markings were evident, sense appeared to matter less and less, and something else slowed his step, his own markings bathed in a poisonous green.
A matter of pride, indeed, Ylva observed quietly. Though it was a far from a gentle quiet as she glared at the other female.
Whoever, whatever this creature was, Ylvarød hadn't any memory, hadn't known her - but emotion, raw and hateful had suddenly seeped through their connection; emotion that bled and flowed freely, emotion that her rider didn't feel the need to control or stem, enough that even if either had missed the strange rider's approach or the unique and unmistakable appearance of the pair - it was obvious this female was bad news. The younger female held still at a wary command, but mirrored the crested one's stare, her own acidic regardless of its poisonous green, snout curled into a silent snarl. Ventured a low warning hiss.
At the demand for Buutar, not even a flick of an eye to Ganuu would have betrayed the man's fate on Arruk's part. Announcing their leader was dead to some one, something like that hardly seemed wise. Though then again, the absence of said announcement might provoke unforseen consequences itself as well...
The opportunity to safely flee without tail had passed, so dutifully they'd flanked at a distance, ready to pounce should the boy-leader demand it.
And whatever venom leaked through connection of dragon and rider, whatever emotion writ itself large on Arruk's face despite his attempts to look as stony as his constitution, only one word managed to be spoken aloud, toneless and icy.
"Hold."
Ylvarød held.
"Better here than the surly folk over there, anyway, heh." It was already evident upon their faces, hardly a new fact, and there was something freeing about bringing it to the table. "Gets tiring after a bit. Even if it is secondhand..." It wasn't empathy, not exactly. But as close to understanding Ganuu's predicament as the older fellow would appear to manage.
Though as the dragons nearby began to fuss over food, Arruk sighed. "Though I must admit, it appears it'll continue to be just us, at this rate." Where he once found it fortuitous that they'd managed one male, one female in their pilfered collection, Arruk, despite the equal parts training and improvisation both he and Ganuu had to bring to rearing their dragons, had to finally face the situation with a reluctant resignation, hoping both dragons would grow out of it.
Both dragons grew, certainly.
Ylva let fly a hoarse and indignant hufffff that would've been a tempered roar in the absence of polite company, and petulantly lunged to grab at her spoils - but any further move was interrupted! Treacherous sky, spoiling her chances!
Luckily her rider saw the danger where Ylva first saw the annoyance and leaped back to his feet. "Oh, no. Not you, not here, we're going-!"
He'd every intention of fleeing - though unlike Inka and Uma's situation, hiding a'dragonback was considerably more of a difficult feat to accomplish! But her leftovers could have very well been Knuterot's, after all - Would have been, had we allowed him continue. Is no lie, Ylva grumbled, and Arruk snorted in spite of himself. How she stil managed to be surly about the other fellow was beyond him!
And Ganuu'bit's command was a sensible one: getting Ylva back to Klekkeri - the importance of an egg-layer should have far outweighed Arruk's own pride (even if she'd yet to carry) - though as the intruders approached, as the flicker of blue and oddly-shaped markings were evident, sense appeared to matter less and less, and something else slowed his step, his own markings bathed in a poisonous green.
A matter of pride, indeed, Ylva observed quietly. Though it was a far from a gentle quiet as she glared at the other female.
Whoever, whatever this creature was, Ylvarød hadn't any memory, hadn't known her - but emotion, raw and hateful had suddenly seeped through their connection; emotion that bled and flowed freely, emotion that her rider didn't feel the need to control or stem, enough that even if either had missed the strange rider's approach or the unique and unmistakable appearance of the pair - it was obvious this female was bad news. The younger female held still at a wary command, but mirrored the crested one's stare, her own acidic regardless of its poisonous green, snout curled into a silent snarl. Ventured a low warning hiss.
At the demand for Buutar, not even a flick of an eye to Ganuu would have betrayed the man's fate on Arruk's part. Announcing their leader was dead to some one, something like that hardly seemed wise. Though then again, the absence of said announcement might provoke unforseen consequences itself as well...
The opportunity to safely flee without tail had passed, so dutifully they'd flanked at a distance, ready to pounce should the boy-leader demand it.
And whatever venom leaked through connection of dragon and rider, whatever emotion writ itself large on Arruk's face despite his attempts to look as stony as his constitution, only one word managed to be spoken aloud, toneless and icy.
"Hold."
Ylvarød held.
Mahi'onn stepped into the light and stopped.
What was left of the bonfire illuminated a brute of a troll with speckled, rusty red skin and dark warrior garb, a shock of white hair standing out against both. Immediately apparent was his mutant nature as a Dragerørt, spiked nose and dramatically crested skull decidedly more draconic than trollish.
It was enough that he was exceptionally tall, but broad musculature and heavy features exaggerated a sense of size that threatened to loom closer - between build and the spikes, the armor he wore seemed almost unnecessary. The wavering light reflected from copper pieces in thick leather and the slashing curve of a short scimitar.
Without any indication of concern he considered the two young men in threatening silence. If he was even remotely worried about them or even either of their dragons it did not show. In the tree above it seemed his own was ready to drop at any moment.
She had pulled her attention from the other dragons briefly to take note of the trolls moving into cover. It was clear a message was being conveyed as rider and dragon shared a glance - but then she returned her gaze to the other dragons, returning the hiss in kind.
Inka. If there had been any doubts about the nature of this settlement, they were gone from him now. A scrutinizing look was cast about those lurking at the edge of the clearing, eyes narrowing as his nostrils flared. As he straightened up fully with a roll of the shoulders, he dared the more bold of them to approach.
“...he's not here, hm?” the intruder finally replied in an almost casual, but unimpressed tone as he turned to face the daring young troll. There was an uncomfortable amount of attention directed on Ganuu'bit now.
“I hav' a better question,” he replied with a careless gesture of a weapon almost more akin to a meat cleaver than a sword. Mahi'onn dared to close some of the gap between them now, moving forward a few feet and then stopping again to stare, beginning to pace back and forth in place threateningly.
“Who are you...?” he asked. What was genuine curiosity was marked by a sudden aggression as he took in Ganuu's features properly; markings that had faded lighting back up harshly. “...and why are YOU wearing the perle, boy?” he asked with loud incredulity.
What was left of the bonfire illuminated a brute of a troll with speckled, rusty red skin and dark warrior garb, a shock of white hair standing out against both. Immediately apparent was his mutant nature as a Dragerørt, spiked nose and dramatically crested skull decidedly more draconic than trollish.
It was enough that he was exceptionally tall, but broad musculature and heavy features exaggerated a sense of size that threatened to loom closer - between build and the spikes, the armor he wore seemed almost unnecessary. The wavering light reflected from copper pieces in thick leather and the slashing curve of a short scimitar.
Without any indication of concern he considered the two young men in threatening silence. If he was even remotely worried about them or even either of their dragons it did not show. In the tree above it seemed his own was ready to drop at any moment.
She had pulled her attention from the other dragons briefly to take note of the trolls moving into cover. It was clear a message was being conveyed as rider and dragon shared a glance - but then she returned her gaze to the other dragons, returning the hiss in kind.
Inka. If there had been any doubts about the nature of this settlement, they were gone from him now. A scrutinizing look was cast about those lurking at the edge of the clearing, eyes narrowing as his nostrils flared. As he straightened up fully with a roll of the shoulders, he dared the more bold of them to approach.
“...he's not here, hm?” the intruder finally replied in an almost casual, but unimpressed tone as he turned to face the daring young troll. There was an uncomfortable amount of attention directed on Ganuu'bit now.
“I hav' a better question,” he replied with a careless gesture of a weapon almost more akin to a meat cleaver than a sword. Mahi'onn dared to close some of the gap between them now, moving forward a few feet and then stopping again to stare, beginning to pace back and forth in place threateningly.
“Who are you...?” he asked. What was genuine curiosity was marked by a sudden aggression as he took in Ganuu's features properly; markings that had faded lighting back up harshly. “...and why are YOU wearing the perle, boy?” he asked with loud incredulity.
Ganuu'bit hissed "Arruk-!" he feared for their female, but it was too late now.
As Mahionn's strange, mutant form was revealed by the dim but lingering light of the bonfire, the many trolls on the edge of the trees still remaining gasped and muttered (mostly warriors, most families had fled to protect their young). Ganuu'bit's eyes widened and he stared up at the impressive and intimidating figure of one of the kings own men. He had never seen Dragerørt, only heard about them.
His eyes flicked up to the dragon above, briefly comparing their crests, the horn on their noses. It was...incredible. He'd be awestruck if he were not afraid by the sheer size and intimidating stature of the threat standing before him.
The Perle! he reached up with his free hand as if to touch the bead pierced into his bottom lip, a symbol of his status as prince passed down by the deceased Prince Buutar. How could he have forgotten about it and all it stood for?
"I..." he narrowed his eyes and raised his sword in both hands. Mahionn was here for Buutar, but if he was allowed to return to King Korgmak, their location would no longer be a secret to their greatest threat. He wanted to know how Mahionn had even found them. What he wanted.
"What do you want?" he snarled without answering the question, trying to make himself look big and threatening as best he could, though he was not yet fully grown in size nor was he a weathered warrior. He bared his tusks, letting out a hissing growl as he stepped forward, his dragon behind him letting out a gator-like hiss in tandem.
"You- " he hesitated "You know I can't let you leave here alive" he growled, trying to remain certain, though he could not help feeling most certain that if he fought this man, he would die first.
Knuterot let Ylva watch the dragon above, while he himself remained fixed on Mahi, his pupils shrinking to tiny slits and glowing as did the markings on his riders skin, both glowed the same fierce amber. It was rare (but not unheard of) for a dragon to match the marking colour of its rider.
As Mahionn's strange, mutant form was revealed by the dim but lingering light of the bonfire, the many trolls on the edge of the trees still remaining gasped and muttered (mostly warriors, most families had fled to protect their young). Ganuu'bit's eyes widened and he stared up at the impressive and intimidating figure of one of the kings own men. He had never seen Dragerørt, only heard about them.
His eyes flicked up to the dragon above, briefly comparing their crests, the horn on their noses. It was...incredible. He'd be awestruck if he were not afraid by the sheer size and intimidating stature of the threat standing before him.
The Perle! he reached up with his free hand as if to touch the bead pierced into his bottom lip, a symbol of his status as prince passed down by the deceased Prince Buutar. How could he have forgotten about it and all it stood for?
"I..." he narrowed his eyes and raised his sword in both hands. Mahionn was here for Buutar, but if he was allowed to return to King Korgmak, their location would no longer be a secret to their greatest threat. He wanted to know how Mahionn had even found them. What he wanted.
"What do you want?" he snarled without answering the question, trying to make himself look big and threatening as best he could, though he was not yet fully grown in size nor was he a weathered warrior. He bared his tusks, letting out a hissing growl as he stepped forward, his dragon behind him letting out a gator-like hiss in tandem.
"You- " he hesitated "You know I can't let you leave here alive" he growled, trying to remain certain, though he could not help feeling most certain that if he fought this man, he would die first.
Knuterot let Ylva watch the dragon above, while he himself remained fixed on Mahi, his pupils shrinking to tiny slits and glowing as did the markings on his riders skin, both glowed the same fierce amber. It was rare (but not unheard of) for a dragon to match the marking colour of its rider.