Dargon. (Original Fantasy)

Dargon 1.1: Raze


You are a dragon, and you have just burned down your first village.

It was… well, it was tradition. Family tradition. You truly had nothing for these humans, these cute, cattle-herding simpletons that cowered behind their walls whenever other members of your family flew overhead. It was just that you were of age, and it meant razing down a village to 'put yourself on the map', so to speak.

Grandmomma Kiryu had done it, Momma Konnto had done it, and now you're doing it.

But why did things have to be so… messy? Humans screaming everywhere, cradling others of their own kind in their arms – you could already see a few people swearing revenge on you for destroying everything they held dear. Those you immediately focused on, a deep fire rumbling within the depths of your chest that was unleashed in a blast of–

[] Plasma.

[] Lightning.

[] Disease.

[x] Starfire.

–That washes over the would-be annoyances, rendering them to dust. Grandmomma Kiryu always cautioned you and the rest of your siblings about those humans, those idiots who swore revenge after you accidentally burned down their village. She even showed a few scars to prove her tales correctly, showing long rakes where her scales had grown incorrectly, telling of large bolts that carved through her body, or of human magic that pried her skin open with bubbling lances of flame.

From what you could see though, those injuries were mostly done by other dragons. Not that you'd discount your grandmomma's advice though, since there probably was a reason for her warnings.

So here you are, standing in the ruins of the village that you just razed, having just killed off the idiots who might swear revenge against you in the future. Over the distance, you could see people fleeing from the village in all directions, mostly in order to try and escape from you. Most of them will die to the elements, and only some would be able to reach another city or village and tell of what happened here.

Which was good. So long as one person was alive in order to spread of your maniacal renown – no, especially if only one person was alive to tell the tale of this village's burning, then it would be wonderful for your reputation. Not that you can't exactly do it given the sheer amount of people that might die just to spread your name, but you could live with having multiple people tell of the tale instead of just one person.

Gazing out into the half-ruined village, a low rumble emanates forth from your chest, a gleam of pride at the carnage that you've wrought. Walls crumbled under your strength (and definitely not with your weight), stone melted under your breath, and people cowered under your gaze. Truly, all was right with the world.

But it also means that you're an adult now, with everything else that it entailed. What do you do?

[] Scour the village for any treasures. Granted, there's probably not a lot of valuables that you could get from peasants, but there's always that little magical trinket stashed somewhere…

[] Find yourself a princess. That's what all the established dragons do, right?

[x] Continue on digging out your lair. Or your 'crib', as some of your other siblings put it.

Need a tie-breaker vote between starfire or lightning. Otherwise, I'll be writing out a post on digging out your crib.

woody12 said:

can we choose something else to hoard like knowledge?

Click to expand...

Click to shrink...

Sure, but you can't exactly start to hoard knowledge w/o a place to put said knowledge in.

Dargon 1.2: Lair


You are a dragon. The apex race, king of the skies and masters of magic. Lesser beings bow in your wake, and your equals are wary of your capabilities, always seeking to test, but never devolving into a full-on brawl.

Or at least, that's what Momma Konnto said.

Frankly, the amount of things that you're parroting from the rest of your brethren was slightly concerning.

But what was even more concerning was your lair. Or your lack of one, for that matter. Every dragon written down in the annals of history (draconic history, which was entirely different from mortal history of course) had one… a few things in common. The first of which was a lair, of course.

A crib. Presumably to store all the treasures and little trinkets that you gathered throughout the years. Little conversation pieces to enrapture the attention of captives, for them to look upon them in awe, then look upon you in horror for the possession of such objects of great power.

That was what you dreamed of. For now…

For now… you were stuck with clearing out this cave so that you could even fit in it.

Claws that wrench out large chunks of castle walls were used to dig out rock from a cliffside. Breath that renders metal into molten slag was used to weld rock together into a smooth finish. There was nothing but boredom, boredom, boredom that flowed through your mind, even as you used your wings to orient yourself back up for another go into the cliffside, taking out another house-sized chunk of rock.

It was weird, now that you thought about it. That dragons – king of the skies, like what Momma Konnto always said – liked to dig out their lairs in the depths of mountains. Where were the dragons living in glorious sky temples? Surely there would be dragons like that in whatever little history that you've learned from Grandmomma Kiryu.

…

But no. While it's been decades since you last saw her, you're sure that she hasn't mentioned any dragons living on floating rocks.

It miffed you. Humans have some of their puny little mages living on floating rocks that sailed through the air. Why aren't there any dragons that do so?

You stop pounding at the cliffside, a pensive expression crossing your eyes before you flap your wings once more, righting yourself as you surge upwards to break through the cloud cover.

Four wings spread outwards at the apex of your flight, looking down at your nearby surroundings with just the slightest hint of derision. Your scales glint in the sunlight, a myriad of colors more reminiscent of the night sky, and as much as everyone gave you looks for it (oh did they give you looks for it), all of them fell silent the moment you first breathed out starfire and slagged Grandmomma Kiryu's collection of precious stones.

With an elegant roll, you swoop downwards, the wind calm despite your current speed as it began whipping about the trailing edges of your wings. Villages, towns, and cities fly past in your wake, conversations between lesser mortals passing through your ears as you zoom past, and you begin to take a rough picture of the possible places that you could start with your lair.

Your floating, flying lair, since apparently no one thought of the idea.

Below you lies the city of Fernia, a city known for its 'magic academy', whatever it meant. Presumably a place to train little magic-zappers that humans always liked having around. Maybe you could stroll in and take a few of those magic-zappers, especially those who would be able to lift up large tracts of land. Very useful, but very risky.

What if there was someone there who could throw lances of fire or lightning javelins at you? You couldn't have that. You just burned down your first village a few days ago, for goodness's sake! There was a timing to this kind of thing.

Still, you can't help but file it as a potential candidate in your search for magical stooges that would help you make your flying lair.

The landscape flies past, and with it, more information filters through your ears. There is a prosperous village quite some distance away from Fernia, still nameless from the looks of it. There might be something there… if only because you've heard from one of your fly-bys that there was a dragon protecting the village, apparently.

Quite interesting. And if a dragon is protecting something, then that means that the loot must be insanely wonderful. But to storm a dragon's own territory would be… Hm…

Another pass through the area, and you finally stop flying, going down into an elegant roll before flapping your wings one last time, arresting your momentum meters off the ground before landing onto a forest clearing. A sniff through the air and… yes. It seems that your eyes weren't tricking you when you flew over this area.

There were goblins here.

Your snout faces the direction of the goblin scent, quickly slithering through the trees as if it weren't even there. It takes you a few moments to reach your destination, a goblin-manned ballista located in the middle of a forest, with other goblins looking like they were in the middle of distracting themselves from the monotonous boredom of keeping watch.

Mortals. Truly disappointing.

A quick surge forward cleaves the ballista from its sockets, its trigger discharging into a nearby tree with a loud twang. The first few goblins who had been suddenly aware of your presence were quickly sliced apart by a swipe of your tail, and the rest were smashed into the surrounding trees by a quick flare of your wings.

It lasts a few seconds. By the time that it was all over, almost all the goblins in the area were dead, and a few were on their deathbed, their lifeblood bleeding out all over the forest floor. You hum to yourself, pleased by your performance so far, and slowly trot over towards one of the more… decorated goblins, finding them hacking up some blood as they slowly glared upwards… and began leaking fluids immediately after.

Once again, mortals.

You turn towards the little burrow that lead deeper into where the rest of the goblins were, mind working at a mile a minute. Almost contemptuously, you brush aside the grenade that the decorated goblin threw at you, grinning as it did naught but tickle your scales. Yes, the goblins have their… faults, but they could be leveraged for your purposes.

Maybe you could build a floating lair with the technology at their disposal, and not just with the humans and their magic.

… Or you could just suck it up, and get back to digging a lair on your own.

What do you do?

[] 'Recruit' some mages at Fernia. High-risk, high-reward, and quite possibly the quickest way to gain a floating lair to flex your inherent superiority.

[x] Pay a quick trip to the village. Surely, there must be a reason for a dragon to protect it? Like… high-grade loot, perhaps?

[] Continue going through the goblin tunnels. Goblin technology might not be the most reliable, but they can make a chunk of land float upwards. Right?

[] Just… get back to carving out your lair. Maybe there was some hidden wisdom from your Grandmomma that you aren't seeing yet.