Flame into the Sea Flowing
Sixth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC
The Bone Reef stretches out before you, pale fingers reaching into the bitter waters with curtains of lace rising to forge a labyrinth as old as time. What fragment or shard lies at the core of it all you could not say, though as you land upon its surface and feel the heat radiating from under your claws you suspect there must be an ember of fire lost in the Endless Ocean. A subtle twilight radiates from the reef, or perhaps merely around it for no matter how closely you look you cannot see any single point where it is brighter, except around the towers of the maridar fortress, spires of shimmering pearl grown from the living coral, polished by sorcery, at once ethereal and timeless. As fair a place for two dragons to meet as ever you have seen it.
Indeed, as dragons you shall meet, winged and scaled, with fire burning low in the back of your throat and and by sorcery warded you settle besides the Pillar of Peace, where many a marid emir had found peace, alliance or as you are seeking a blade for hire. Not that you would ever be so crass as to compare an elder dragon with mere sellswords.
"You know," Lya interjects, laying a diminutive hand upon your scales. "That posture is really cat-like. Are you sure...?"
You snort in amusement, a stream of warm water bubbling from between your teeth. "Yes, I am positive dragons are not related to cats, thank you."
You hear Althazi's party long before you see them, the rhythmic swish of hundreds of clawed hands moving through the water and something else you cannot quite name for all you are gowning more and more accustomed to the sounds of this shoreless sea.
It's almost as if....
Then you see the escort, almost mistaking it for a swift moving anchored coral of some sort before you realize that the crimson and orange filaments are growing out of the backs of giant-kin draped in algae. "Symbiosis?" you head Lya mutter from beside you, fascinated. "That is a remarkably strong magical aura for any natural grown organism, even out here. Maybe somehwere like the Feywild, or at a crossing of Ley lines..."
"It's not natural, not unless those are the most lucky warriors ever to swim these seas," you interject, following her gaze. You have grown more adept at reading living magic, not just that which has been carved or poured into shape. "Arcane deflection, inertial dampers. I don't think they call them
immortals just because they can regrow a limb given enough time." As the trolls approach, however, you realize they are not much better protected or armed than the Sea Guard of Vialesk, or the retinues of the marid emirs, but it is all equipment that can be crafted without skilled smiths, or the fire many of them need to work.
"A variation on living coral," Lya muses, almost as though she can hear your thoughts. In truth it is more learning to look for the same things, the strengths and weaknesses of friend and foe alike. "It's not one likely to catch on beyond the dragon's armies I'll wager, even if he is willing to share. That has to be grown in at birth..."
Before you can speculate more on the his subjects the wyrm Althazi shows himself, parting the ranks of his troops in ordered lines almost like the moves of some odd dance, though the purpose of the motion is far more deadly than that you suspect, to allow the dragon's breath to pour over his enemies without allowing himself to be surrounded by foes.
Thankfully the elder wyrm does not seek war, he descends upon the chosen meeting ground in slow cautious spirals, giving long considering looks to you, Lya and not least to the
Moonchaser floating three hundred yards pasts the edge of the reef. That gives you plenty of time to observe him in turn. Blue grey scales have long since started fading to the grey of a stormy sea and his crest is ragged in what you suspect is an entirely intentional display of old battle wounds. Unusually for a true dragon Althazi also wears armor, a breastplate that seems wrought of pure white salt crystals, marked witch runes in aquan and draconic. Though you cannot read all of them at a distance the sheer arcane glow of the breastplate marks it for an true artifact beyond the works of common enchantment. He also bears five rings between his claws adorned with nacre and pearls, most empowered to deal with enemy spellcraft.
"Hail, young Fire Child, rarer are dragons in these days and rarer still to see one so far from the realms where that most call to bone and blood," Althazi calls out courteously.
"Much wisdom there is in traveling far to discover new allies and new ways of growing in wisdom and strength," you reply.
"Enemies as likely as allies you are likely to find plumbing unknown waters," the wyrm replies as he lands with a surprising lightness of step to grasp the coral. "Still, it is the nature of youth to seek."
At least it's only the dragons calling you boy these days, you think swallowing a smile. "Few enemies will I find here, elder one, that do not already plague my home," you begin recounting by turn something of the history of the mortal world under the sun, the depredations of the Deep Ones which he had so recently fought, your desire to be rid of them... and to pay generously for aid in doing so.
Though the giant-kin behind him are too disciplined to react too much, you can read a certain anticipation in them at the talk of war in distant seas.
"You spoke of learning things cousin," Althazi hisses thoughtfully. "Gold, jewels and precious things are worthy of desire, but most worthy of all is knowledge to add to one's hoard. Tell me, how did you craft that ship and by what means did you gain the cloak you wear between your scales?"
What do you reply?
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OOC: I did not want to reduce this to a simple numbers game so I rolled what the dragon would desire most out of the bargain, it landed on 'arcane knowledge'.