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Post by Sieglinde Whitemane on Dec 25, 2016 18:49:48 GMT
 The Village of Silver Streams
A Few Miles East of Shiverclaw ValleyThe south was simply far too hot. Sieglinde had never even conceived of an area without snow on the ground, but here it was. Patches of land that were too blasted hot to keep the ugly brown dirt from showing through to the surface. It was simply unbelievable that anyone could live in such sweltering conditions, but here she was at another village. That bizarre Silverclaw place with its stone halls filled with tiny children apparently wasn't some freakish anomaly. And, much like before, the tiny people here screamed and scampered at her approach. That only the tallest of them reached above her waist seemed to be horrific in some way...or maybe these little people were just naturally frightened? After a few minutes of walking past the ankle-high fences around the expansive but tiny homestead, the Frostborn did eventually find a few people who didn't gasp and back away in fear as she approached. A small congregation of children, sitting on a small porch, their small voices silenced when she walked up and crouched down to meet their gaze. The first one who spoke up very obviously wasn't a child, though he certainly looked the part apart from his wrinkled face and balding head. Smoke rose from an adorable little pipe as he spoke. "We ain't never seen giants this far south. If yer here to make trouble, ye'll find plenty." The three or four much younger-looking (probably?) children surrounding him hefted their little knives and sharp sticks in a futile attempt to look threatening. Sieglinde cracked her lips in a grin. "Of course I'm looking for trouble! What kind of trouble is there to find around these parts?" Her massive, thick arms crossed over her chest as she took a seat on the uncomfortably warm ground. "Hordes of beasts? A monster too old for you to know its name? Maybe a restless spirit...surely there's some game in this hellish sauna." The tiny old man took a moment. His children seemed stunned to hushed whispers as the Frostborn spoke, but the elder looked cautious, at worst. "Fer the last few months, we've had to graze our cattle a bit farther north. Normally this ain't a problem, but fer a week or three our herders keep comin' back with cows missing, screamin' tales of a great dragon takin' its fill." He raised an eyebrow, his smirk momentarily hidden behind the smoke from his pipe. "That what yer lookin' for, giant?" With a mighty laugh, Sieglinde stood and stretched her arms to the sky. " Finally! It's been so long since I've had a worthy challenge." She bent back down, hands on her knees as she made eye contact with the little people on their little porch outside their little wooden house. "You have every ounce of my thanks, tiny man. I will find this beast."
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Post by Talyn on Dec 25, 2016 23:00:58 GMT
Talyn had lost the scent of his slain mate's eggs for several days now. The scent of the man-things he tracked had blended into the stench of the frail creatures long before that. Unsure of what to do or which way to travel, Talyn had made a crude roost atop the mountain where last he held the scent of the eggs. Each day he traveled fast and far in a random direction, hoping to catch the faintest scent of his lost mate's stolen eggs. When Talyn felt that he had flown as far as he could safely fly in a given day, he turned and made his return trip to his shabby pile of rocks and boulders, grabbing a meal along the way.
The beasts of this green-brown land were fat and docile. They put up little fight and made for easy prey and a nourishing meal. Which was good, for the man-things of this land were small and thin, more bone than flesh and though they crunched nicely, they failed to make for a satisfying meal. This he had found out and confirmed twice when he had ventured close to a man-thing settlement and attempted to sort through the scent of numerous man-things in hopes of recognizing the scent of those that had stolen the eggs of his mate. At first the man-things fled... then they gathered near Talyn and threw sticks, and then they fled again. After Talyn had pounced on three of them, making a quick meal of the first.
This day started like the one before, and the one before that, and the one before that. The morning air was crisp, but a far cry from the bitter chill of Talyn's homeland. Dawn broke and Talyn stirred. A flick of the tail, a snort of warm breath, and a slow shifting of his neck marked the awakening of Talyn. He rose and stretched, a yawn escaping his maw as he worked the powerful muscles of his long neck. As the first hint of the flaming orb touched the horizon, Talyn leaped into the pale blue sky and began his journey for the day, flying in a new and random direction, stubbornly clinging to the hope that he would regain the scent of his most hated prey.
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Post by Sieglinde Whitemane on Dec 25, 2016 23:30:47 GMT
A hunt was a sacred rite. Each beast, no matter how large, had a spirit, and the hunt was communion with that spirit. From the looks of their lands, these tiny people communed with Deer and Hare, and hunted with Wolf. These were all acceptable spirits, of course, and all were worthy of reverence from those whose lives they supported with their meat...but for the Frostborn, Mammoth and Bear were much more likely.
Sieglinde had only communed with Dragon once in her life. She was eager to do so again.
It took her several minutes to scale a nearby peak to get a proper grasp on the world around her. The air was clear and blissfully cool, after spending so much time in that oppressive heat near the ground. Taking a deep breath of it, Sieglinde turned her eyes to the horizon. It would be almost impossible for such a huge creature to hide amid this empty sky. All she had to do was keep her eyes peeled-
Ah! There it was! Leaping from the stony hill of ice and snow that she'd climbed just minutes before, Sieglinde sprinted with wild abandon, unconsciously (but predictably) tapping into her winter blood to move with the speed of the north wind. Huge feet and heavy steps thundered across the snowy plains of the Silverclaw region as the mighty Frostborn huntress gauged which direction her quarry was headed in. With a bit of observation, she found another large, snowy outcropping that intercepted its path, then tore up the side of the tiny peak as if she was chasing the stars.
A keen-eyed creature might have noticed her, had it been close enough. Whether she was noticed or not didn't matter to Sieglinde Whitemane, of course. This was not an ambush. It was a challenge. When she reached the apex of her climb, nine feet of ice-tainted ogress stood and raised her fists to the sky, giving out a mighty howl.
"Dragon! I've found nothing but disappointment in this tiny place!" She drew her immense sword as she let out her call, holding it to the sky to catch the light of the sun. "Impress me, lizard! Give me a fight worthy of my legend!"
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Post by Skrak Gulat on Dec 25, 2016 23:43:07 GMT
Dragons. Terrifying lizards with bodies large as a caravan, hide like iron, fangs long as a blade, sickle-length bone coming as talons. Leathery wings that strung out a human body's length on either side. They sounded like something out of a nightmare, able to rend through shield and armor, shoulder spear and arrow. That was, if the legends were true. Skrak had never observed their prowess before. Nor did he really intend to, at least not from close up. He liked to think he could hold his own in a fight, but he knew a dragon would think of him as nothing more than an hor d'oeuvre.
Still, he couldn't let the rumors of a dragon pass him by. Skrak was an artist, and what made better art than the most terrifying of nature's creations? The creature would simply have to be painted from afar. Hopefully very afar. The goblin had found a spot with decent view of a her of cattle, the herd of some local farmers. He figured if any food would bring a dragon it would be the thickest and fattest of cows around. With him he carried paintbrush, paints, and a small dirk of bronze. Useless against a dragon's hide most likely, but it was all the thirsting artist had. Hopefully it wouldn't see any action, for if it did Thrak would surely be someone's crunchy snack.
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Post by Talyn on Dec 26, 2016 21:04:30 GMT
Strong wings and powerful chest muscles beat against the morning winds that raced up the side of the mountain. Treetops fell away beneath Talyn as he rode the gentle morning updrafts, slowly gained altitude. A familiar scent danced into his awareness as a large man-thing with snow-colored hair came into view upon an outcropping of raised land. It was a small thing, less in weight than most of the cows and horses that Talyn typically chose for food. But it was large for the things of the green south, nearing the size of the man-things that could sometimes be found in the whitelands of the north. The man-thing raised its hands into the air and spat forth mortal words at Talyn. The voice was soft and high of pitch. To Talyn, it was the sound of a mouse.
Talyn had encountered man-things before. Talyn knew that they were dangerous in groups and sometimes wielded metal blades that could cut Talyn's hide. The long blade on a longer stick was the most dangerous weapon man-things wielded, as Talyn had seen man-things use such weapons to slay both whale and wyvern alike. This man-thing though... was alone and had no such weapon. This man-thing was food.
Talyn banked to the right, turning away from the man-thing. His eyes darted upon the land and the trees and the land hidden by trees, but his gaze found no man-things waiting in ambush. The large man-thing was indeed alone. Banking left, Talyn brought himself into orbit around the man-thing, circling it in the air as he gazed upon it, ready for one of the nasty creature's infamous tricks to spring forth. When neither magic nor arrow sprung forth, Talyn knew that this man-thing was neither threat nor challenger, but prey.
A mighty roar, not unlike a smirk, burst forth from deep within Talyn's chest as he challenged the brave-dumb creature and banked sharply towards the man-thing. Talyn's wings beat down in powerful strokes as he raced towards the thing. A crackle of power grew within Talyn as a blue-white light danced within his throat and sparked along his teeth. His jaws wide and his neck pointed strait at the target he approached, Talyn unleashed the fury of his breath upon it. A sound like the clap of thunder burst from his throat as a thin, white beam of sparkling light filled the air between the man-thing and himself. A sound like the sound of a thousand chirping insects filled the air as Talyn unleashed himself upon the man-thing.
The sound faded to the sound of beating wings as Talyn closed his mouth and banked up and to the right. Circling around the man-thing once more, Talyn turned his head to see if his morning meal still moved.
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Post by Sieglinde Whitemane on Dec 26, 2016 22:15:44 GMT
Ah, good. She'd gotten its attention. Sieglinde grinned to herself and grasped her sword in both hands, steadying her footing as the great lizard neared. "Come on... come on..." There wasn't a lot she could do when it was in the air like that, but the moment it got close enough, the battle could begin in earnest. Until then, the best she could do was keep herself from getting burned to death by its flaming-
Those were not flames.
The Frostborn dove around a boulder as light lanced towards her, a crackling blast that could have deafened one of the child-people she'd seen running about. Sieglinde had, of course, been reared on the roars of monsters twice this beast's size. This was nothing. The blast exploded against the stone she'd used for cover, scorching it black and cracking its surface. Sieglinde was unharmed...and actually a bit relieved. The fire breath common to these monsters was far more dangerous than their claws or teeth. It seemed this one lacked fire, forelegs, and the ability (or at least interest) to speak. Maybe it was a lesser breed. The South likely didn't have the game to support larger dragons.
Still, that looked to be lighting. Her sword would do little here apart from draw it to her. With a smirk, the Frostborn flipped her massive blade around and impaled it tip-first into the top of the stone that had protected her before. With that done, she stood again, arms outstretched. Come at me, brovahkiin.
"Where's your fire, lizard?! The last one of yours that I killed left me blackened and burned! Or are you too weak to measure up?!" While she was hardly an expert on them, this was the first dragon Sieglinde had seen that had neither forelegs nor an interest in telling her how inferior she was. It was possible her jabs were falling on deaf ear-holes, but that was no reason not to shout her glory from the mountaintops. Literally.
"I am Sieglinde Whitemane! I've slain a hundred ice elementals just for the chance to destroy their hive! I've broken the necks of beasts twice your size with my bare hands!" One foot stamped dramatically on the frozen stone beneath her as she leveled a finger at the enormous beast. "And you will be the second-largest dragon I've slain!"
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Post by Talyn on Dec 26, 2016 23:13:28 GMT
Talyn watched the man-thing as he circled wide in the cold morning air. The creature had dodged his attack and hid behind a rock. Talyn's broad wings flapped slowly as he circled the creature, observing it as it prepared some strange trick, slamming its metal weapon into the ground before standing tall and screeching at him in its squeaky voice.
It was a bold food.
Talyn banked sharply to the right and made another pass at the man-thing. This time, gaining altitude with each beat of his wings as he raced towards the screeching man-thing. Talyn slowed himself to a stop, his wings beating faster and faster to hold himself in place in the air as he hovered above the man-thing. Power built within Talyn's chest once more light danced within his throat. A thunderclap burst forth from Talyn as the white-blue light raced down upon the man-thing, the sound of a thousand chirping insects rippled through the air as the sparkling light danced between Talyn and the man-thing's blade that stood upon the ground.
Talyn cut the blast short, his beating wings still holding him in place as the human squeaked at him. Talyn adjusted himself and spat forth another burst of deafening noise and brilliant blue-white light, but again he missed his target and struck the man-thing's planted blade. Cutting the blast off immediately, Talyn flew forward once more and roared in annoyance at the trickery of the man-thing.
Always some trick or another with man-things.
Talyn returned to circling the white-haired man-thing. It chirped at him in its shrill voice and Talyn let loose the occasional roar in its direction as Talyn circled it and the metal blade that it had defiantly thrust into the earth. He circled and watched and circled and watched, and the man-thing did as the man-thing did. With each pass, Talyn grew slowly lower and lower until the treetops were barely under him. Finally, Talyn banked sharply towards the man-thing once more, his dipped wingtip nearly touching the branches of a tree, and let loose a blast of breath upon it as quickly as he was able. It was a short blast, announced by the thunderclap of noise that always accompanied it. This time, Talyn was aiming for the blade that he knew would draw the energy of his wrath as it had done twice before.
This time though, Talyn had waited until the man-thing was directly between Talyn and the grounded blade before launching his fury at it.
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Post by Skrak Gulat on Dec 27, 2016 15:12:51 GMT
Skrak heard the deafening sound of a dragon's roar, but it was nowhere near the herd of cows he observed. It was hard to tell exact what direction with all of thr volume, but it was definitely behind him at some angle. Turning around he hesitated for a moment. The beast wasn't in immediate sight, and his spot wasn't a bad one. Nothing was truly "safe", but hidden in the frosty trees was better than most places to hide.
A sigh, a grunt. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. If he couldn't see the dragon it probably couldn't see him, and it was easier to spot a dragon than a goblin. Hopefully the reptile wasn't used to even hunting such small game. With a deep breath and a hand on his dagger Skrak left his spot and headed in the direction he heard the roar, soon hearing another, and the sound of cracking lightning. No fire breath today? Perhaps. Skrak would find out, hopefully from afar.
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