On Magnate's Scales (Dragonriding Quest)

[Eventua]

The late winter air bites through the layers of leather that keep you safe and tied to your mount, and part of you wishes you were still able to safely rest by the fireside with the others. It'd certainly be warmer, and more... human, to spend more time with your own kind.

Rell, the thought cuts across your own with a rumble, I'm going to dive. I think I can sense something vibrating between the edges of the valley.

Underneath your flying mask and windscarf you can't help but crack a smile. As if time itself were stopped you feel the world beneath you shifts, as if you were ascending, jumping into the open sky... and yet just as suddenly as the moment comes, it passes. You are screaming downwards to the crack of lightning. Your ears fill with the wind's howling, your heart hammering, and your vision blurs briefly as you wonder if your skull might escape your skin.

Instinctively your grip on the harness shifts, and you lean into the dive, following through as the dragon shifts and curves into a gentler swoop. Your stomach lurches, but holds.

Please thank Milo for me. I appreciate that his cooking makes this easier for you.

You can't help but narrow your eyes at that comment, after all...

PICK ONE:
[] Ozerilet has never really been the thankful sort! It's really not her style, especially regarding non-riders.
[] Ozerilet has been super worried since we got here... her focus has been entirely on the movements of the enemy. Maybe it's a sign she's learning to be more open and relaxed?
[] O-Cobalt knows her place, even to a relatively young rider like yourself, or the cook. It's totally out of line.
---- PLEASE NOTE: This option will lock your later background choice to the Accionite Empire, a great military power famed for their cruelty towards conquered peoples that refuse to join them willingly - and the subjugation of dragons as weapons of the state. Be aware that if you choose a different option, the Accionite Empire will still be available as a background choice, but referring to your dragon by its true name is likely to get you in serious trouble if others become aware of you doing so.

 

[Eventua]

CHARACTER SHEETS ALLIES INVENTORY QUESTS WORLD JOURNEL

• Name: Rell ???? and Ozerilet
  Background:
  --- Born into the Heritage Clan, the chosen people, on a most auspicious night - the laying of a clutch of new dragon eggs. At the age of three, Rell was weaned and taken for the hatching, where Ozerilet hatched and chose to bond with Rell, creating a pact that has forever bound their hearts.
  --- Rell has been given the elixir of the ancients, and thus has biological immortality - once Rell reaches about the age of twenty-five, they'll stop aging.
  
  RIDER (Rell)
  Age & Appearance: 19
  Skillsets:
  ---- Riding (Novice)
  
  Strengths:
  ---- Passive Sensesharing: Since Rell and Ozerilet made their pact at such a young age, their base degree of sensesharing is higher than that of riders from other societies, where pacts are made much later in life.
  
  Weaknesses:
  
  DRAGON (Ozerilet)
  Type: True Dragon; Middle-Weight, approximately 8 meters long
  Age & Appearance: 16
  Diet:
  Senses
  --- Sight: Shared+
  --- Sound: Shared+
  --- Taste: Shared+
  --- Touch: Shared+
  --- Pain: Synchronized
  --- Balance: Shared+
  --- Thought: Shared+
  --- Purpose: Shared+
  
  Strengths:
  --- Jack of All Trades: Her balance of weight and power lets her use her inner fire in a wide range of ways; and has a good balance of speed and agility in the air.
  --- Passive Sensesharing: Since Rell and Ozerilet made their pact at such a young age, their base degree of sensesharing is higher than that of riders from other societies, where pacts are made much later in life.
  
  Weaknesses:
  --- Master of None: Against lighter dragons she could be outmaneuvered, while against larger dragons she risks being outpaced and overpowered.
• Essme and Saernaulinos
  Marr and Tornaulimet
  ???? and ????
  Milo
  Anne
• RELL
  Trainee - Riding Clothes (equipped)
  Flight Mask
  
  OZERILET
  Riding Harness (equipped)
• [TO BE UTILIZED IN FUTURE CHAPTERS]
• The Heritage Clan
  Rell's people, an ancient but somewhat isolated culture most famed for their long history of dragon riding and the religious significance they place on it. Dragon eggs can take a number of years to mature and hatch, so when a child of the clan is born on the same day as a new clutch of eggs, they are weaned after several years and brought to the clutch. When it hatches, one of the newborn dragons will form a pact with the child, and they will remain partners for life.
  
  The Taslodite Pactlords
  A heavily divided people whose noble lineages control vast territories across the globe through their dragon riders, the Pactlords, the Taslodites are ancestral enemies of the Heritage Clan who have settled into an uneasy peace where neither side bothers the other - despite each seeing the way the other handles dragon riding to be absurd or heretical.
  
  The Accionite Empire
  A nation that only recently came to power but has conquered vast stretches of territory between and beyond the mantlejaw mountains to the Heritage Clans' east, thanks to their recent and mass-enslavement of dragons. They are a dangerous enemy and currently at war with several Taslodite houses, as well as with your people.
• [TO BE UTILIZED IN FUTURE CHAPTERS]

 

[Eventua]

Spoiler: Result & OOC

[4] Ozerilet has been super worried since we got here... her focus has been entirely on the movements of the enemy. Maybe it's a sign she's learning to be more open and relaxed?

Also, thank you so much for the many kind votes! Been a while since I've been this excited for a project ^_^

Your gaze softens under the flying mask, and so you gently reach forward, patting one of Ozerilet's scales between her neck and shoulder. She shuffles a little, and you can sense it helps ease her anxiety - just a bit.

I'll pass it on, your mind whispers, as soon as we figure this out first.

Plus it's reminded you how much you like Milo's cooking and you could really do with another bowl.

Ozerilet rumbles an agreement and shifts to the right - to an outside observer she would be practically invisible, faster than any bird of prey a quarter of her size and with the tone of her scales blending into the cloud cover... but it's an almost leisurely glide by dragon standards.

But just as quickly as your and Ozerilet's hearts begin to calm a little, her gaze snaps to attention, focusing on a series of cliffs running around and into one of the taller peaks - maybe just a few minutes flight away.

There it is! Rell, you must feel this as well? I can sense something is... her heartbeat quickens and her directed thoughts slow, her mind no doubt racing for an explanation, cutting, the sky? I don't know how else to describe it. It looks, sounds and feels like nothing I've ever encountered before - like the first roiling of a thunder storm, but focused into a single line.

You furrow your brow and grip the harness a little tighter. Some sort of weapon?

You consider entering one of Ozerilet's senses to get a better idea of what she's describing, but it's always a tiring process - and don't even think of accessing multiple senses at once. Last time was lesson enough, thank you very much.

PICK ONE:
[] Ask to access Ozerilet's Sight. What she's talking about sounds like something visual, though accessing sight is always the most disorientating and leaves your vision blurry for a while afterwards.
[] Ask to access Ozerilet's Hearing. Honestly, with this wind it's hard to hear much of anything... for human ears. Though you don't look forward one bit to the dizziness and weaker hearing that always follows.
[] Ask to access Ozerilet's Touch. Her whiskers are always a funny thing to adjust to, and accessing her sense of touch wont mess with your own senses afterwards to anywhere the same degree. That said, your skin always feels a little numb afterwards.
[] Don't access any dragon senses.

As you make your decision, Ozerilet's attention turns to you.

Rell, what do you think we should do? I was worried about the rumours of the enemy, but this... I don't know if this is something I can fight with claws or fire. At least, not alone.

PICK ONE:
[] Get closer to investigate this "cutting" and what's causing it.
[] Return to camp to share what's been found and get help.
---- NOTE: Doing this will take up more time, and it's unclear how long whoever - or whatever - is causing this will stick around for.

 

[Eventua]

Spoiler: Result

[2] Ask to access Ozerilet's Sight. What she's talking about sounds like something visual, though accessing sight is always the most disorientating and leaves your vision blurry for a while afterwards.

[2] Get closer to investigate this "cutting" and what's causing it.

You pace yourself, matching each breath to Ozerilet's own, and gently close your eyes. The cold evening gray is clamped shut, and only darkness remains.

For a moment, the rushing of the wind gets a little gentler - your grip on the harness lessens, and you aren't being carried through the sky. You are carrying yourself, your skin tingling like scales... then calms again, as if you were simply asleep.

It's peaceful, here. There's no danger.

No war.

Rell?

Yes, Oz?

Are you ready to see what I see?

You smile again. It's a little funny - Ozerilet always seems to know what you want before you've thought it to her. And yet, she always asks first. A very polite giant of the skies.

Yes please.

The darkness immediately lights up with a sharp blue light. It's a powerful effect - beneath your flying mask the evening clouds and mountain air had been stifling, forcing you to trust Ozerilet's eyes. Seeing things from her perspective, you know there's nothing to see. In the smallest detail the world beneath her is revealed, sharp clarity cutting through the clouds and highlighting the trees growing throughout the valley as if there were bright moonlight illuminating them from behind.

But there's something else. As you blink in time to her - once, twice - your attention is drawn upwards.

Bizarre, Rell. What do you think it could- careful!

You have to shake your head slightly, and Ozerilet's body lurches - just a little - as she adjusts to compensate you throwing her eyesight off.

Sorry, sorry! Always takes a little getting used to. And that...

Ozerilet wasn't lying when she described it as the sky being "cut", but that feels inadequate. Like pulling apart the two halves of a fish after it's been gutted, what to your eyes was simply the edges of some darker than normal clouds reveals itself to be...

A wound? A wound in the world?

Something unnatural has torn a hole into the sky, and drifting down from it is a haze of soft, purple fog. It drifts in streams, and as you focus her vision... it's touching the ground, and disappearing. Ozerilet shudders at its movement, and you can't help but shudder along with her. Whatever it is, you need to know more - you can't waste time getting the others when for all you know it could disappear as suddenly as Ozerilet had felt it.

We'll go closer then... but, Rell...

You lean in, just a little closer - as if somehow that will let her thoughts be a little more her own.

If it gets dangerous, promise me you will ask us to leave? Whatever's causing this is beyond even the empire.

PICK ONE:
[] I promise, I'll never ask us to stay in danger if we don't have to.
[] Don't worry, Oz! We can handle it.
[] I can't promise that. You know our purpose.

Ozerilet sighs, nods her head, and follows your lead as you lean into another, softer dive. You stick with using Ozerilet's dragonsight for the time being - better to rest well back at camp afterwards, rather than risk going half blind mid-flight and mid-investigation.

You whip through the wind, Ozerilet's vision following the "sky wound" and its fog, and it soon becomes apparent that the fog is concentrated into... streams? Like a cord of purple light, a shimmering chain where each link folds into and over the others. There's a few points down the side of the mountain where smaller chains seem to be... rising from? But the largest is at the cliffside closer to the peak, and its not far to land.

The cliffside... it's a cave, Rell. I could potentially land, it looks a bit like the entry to an old dragon's mou-

You reel, your knuckles gripping so suddenly and sharply that you might have almost felt them cutting against the inside of your skin. Of course, that's a minor sensation right now - more concerning is the strike across Ozerilet's side, a sharp pain that cuts into your guts and the base of your ribcage. The faintest smell of charred meat and something... poisonous, leeches its way past the edges of your scarf and at the edge of your tastebuds.

Thankfully, Ozerilet doesn't let the pain distract her and she arcs, twisting herself nearly 90 degrees, spiraling out of the way as some sort of purple light - like a faster, sharper form of whatever made the wound in the sky - arcs through the air past Ozerilet's right wing.

Ozerilet?! Oz, what was that?

Our culprits, I think! We should get the others!

You take a deep breath before coughing, the acrid taste of... something, soaking through the edges of your scarf and mask. Whoever these people are they're not playing games, but you're a dragon rider! Perhaps they need a lesson in picking easier fights...

PICK ONE:
[] Swoop around and attempt...
-- [] ...a landing at the abandoned dragon's mouth
-- [] ...a counterattack on the abandoned dragon's mouth
[] Swoop low and attempt...
-- [] ...to safely land in a covered area, close to one of the smaller purple chains near the base of the mountain
-- [] ...to dive in and attack one of the smaller purple chains near the base of the mountain
[] Return to camp to get backup
[] Write-In

 

[Eventua]

Spoiler: Result

[3] I promise, I'll never ask us to stay in danger if we don't have to. Conflicted.
[5] Return to camp to get backup

If it gets dangerous, promise me you'll ask us to leave?

You want to reassure her, but the thought hesitates. Your responsibilities were always supposed to come first, it's your purpose - as is hers, and she knows it. But the tenseness in her scales reflects itself in the hairs on your skin, and you direct the thought to her that she needs to hear.

I promise, Oz. I'll never ask us to stay in danger if we don't have to.

And sure enough, as this rancid pain begins to eat away at the edges of your senses, you keep your promise. You push away the colder part of your soul that asks if you're fleeing out of tactical soundness or earnest concern for her wellbeing, but you just shake it away.

It can be both, can't it?

You can feel a change in Ozerilet's heartbeat as you will her to return to camp, and her relief crosses your face in a smile, even as you trust in Ozerilet's other senses to avoid the handful of trailing purple bolts that rush past you during the retreat. As she weaves out of view of the mountain the bolts slow and then stop, and in half an hour you'll be back at the camp. You adjust your position in the harness, taking your time to enjoy seeing the world through her eyes while it lasts.

Even with the pain in your side, and the wind picking up into a winter storm, the world beneath you stretches out like a canvas of possibility. Your mind wanders, and for the briefest moment you could swear you saw another dragon, standing atop the highest peak - with shimmering golden wings, and whiskers that arc over its eyes and crest like the edges of a prince's robes. For the briefest moment it's like the clouds around it are completely parted and the sun was shining like a new dawn.

The proudest dragon you've ever seen.

But something about the image confounds you - when Ozerilet cuts it off, adjusting her flight.

Curiosity overcomes you, and without hesitating to wonder if it's the right sort of question your mind reaches out with - What was that?

Her response is slow to cross your own, but when it does it's accompanied by a stillness in your throat.

PICK ONE:
[] "It's the memory of someone I haven't seen in a long time, that's all."
[] "It's a dream I keep having. Sometimes it enters my mind's eye as if it were really happening, sorry."

Your mind races with curiosity at her answer, but something about the tone of Ozerilet's 'inner voice' when she says it tells you it might be better to ask about it another time.

The flight back is largely silent as you settle into a more leisurely glide to conserve energy, and simply follow Ozerilet's vision of the world, but like all good things it must come to an end. As the valleys beneath you give way to thicker forests, passing over small farming communities and hamlets ignorant of the chaos that's just unfolded, you arc around to the edge of a wide, craggy clifftop. And there at the edges of alcoves, tents, and hastily assembled spike formations - dimly lit and obscured by coverings against the wind - are the soft light of the campfires.

Seeing it this way almost throws you off your balance. It's so much clearer, more alive! The campfires spark and roar in vivid tones of gold and blue, and the smoke forms into sharp particles that drift away into the sky.

The first thing that stands out to you seeing it like this are...

PICK ONE -- FACTION/BACKGROUND CHOICE:
[] ACCIONITE EMPIRE: The packs of mantlejaws in the feeding pits, the first sign of this being a well-equipped imperial encampment and the foundation for a new outpost.
--- You are a loyal citizen-soldier in the imperial army, selected at a young age for your early signs of becoming a capable dragon rider - not the most well-respected position in the army, but certainly one of the most exciting! Ozerilet was assigned to you, and officially her designation is O-Cobalt - she's not a person in the eyes of the law, she's a weapon of the state. You are one of three dragon riders sent to this outpost, but none of you are very high up the chain of command - as soon as you arrived you were under the authority of the encampment's commander.

[] TASLODITE PACTLORDS: Your brother's tent, almost twice the size of everyone else's and beautifully decorated for what is supposed to be a scouting mission.
--- You are the youngest scion of House Hazzivh, chosen to be a dragon rider after your late aunt died and you inherited the responsibility of being Ozerilet's rider. Dragons are entrusted with the duty of protecting the Taslodite people in exchange for tribute and deference. You are here under the tutelage and command of your older brother, the only other dragon rider here, as something of an extended training exercise that he doesn't seem to be taking seriously at all.

[] HERITAGE CLAN: The group of three dragons and their riders surrounding the central fire, playing games and singing songs.
--- You were born to the chosen people under a most auspicious night - the same day as a new clutch of dragon eggs was laid. When you were weaned from your mother you were there for Ozerilet's hatching, and Ozerilet chose you. Growing up together, you were given the elixir of the ancients, and thus the privilege to live as long as Ozerilet can. Your people see dragons and dragon riders as sharing their souls. If either of you dies, the other will shortly follow, one way or another.

[] MERCENARY BAND: The eclectic variety of survivalists and soldiers, ready to move at short notice.
--- You were born to sailors of the Nevian Caravanites, until one day your ship was raided by pirates. Washing up on shore with nothing to your name and no family left, you were saved by Ozerilet and offered to be her rider. She saw this as mutually beneficial (at least in part because her lack of purpose had grown boring, and you were eager for adventure). You've gotten your fair share of mercenary work before, but this is definitely the coldest environment you've ever had to fly through. You're one of two dragon riders signed on to this contract.

****
PLEASE NOTE: Additional info on the effects of this choice, and what it means from each faction/background option, are HERE

 

[Eventua]

I'm thinking either mercenary or heritage clan.... Any ideas what the benefits are, aside from the number of other riders?

Click to shrink...

Ah, wasn't sure if it might bog down the descriptions to much. Currently, there are no plans to introduce abstract gameplay mechanics - at least for now this is purely a narrative quest. Rather, faction/background is a big deal for Rell and Ozerilet's relationship to each other, their home, and other dragons/nations.

In the short term, each faction will have sent a different number of dragons on this mission. The Heritage Clan will have sent four; the Accionite Empire will have sent three; and the Pactlords or Mercenaries will have sent two.

More long term...
--- The Accionite Empire relies on a large, disciplined, and well-oiled military in the pursuit of expanding their territory far beyond the small collection of city-states they started as. Besides having instituted the concept of "citizen-soldiers" on a large scale (that is, conscription), their military might comes from having recently discovered methods for controlling mantlejaws and riding dragons. The official stance of the government is that dragons aren't fully people, and you will have had it engrained into you since childhood that dragons not aligned with the empire are automatically a dangerous threat. The other dragons and their riders with you on this mission are colleagues and fellow soldiers, and so there's a mutual respect that comes from that. However, you are looked down upon by non-rider elements of the military.

--- The Taslodite Pactlords are land-holding noble lineages that long ago allied with dragons for protection and as symbols of their authority. Although you are the youngest child of a relatively small noble house - only having a handful of dragons in your family total - you are still automatically deferred to and revered by the serfs and laymen of your nation, but will generally be looked down upon by other dragon riders who are older and more experienced. Dragons and dragon riders that aren't aligned with the Taslodites are viewed with distrust, but in an awed, respectful sort of way.

--- The Heritage Clan are a relatively small, isolationist society that has survived larger and much more aggressive neighbours through the centuries because they long ago created bonds of friendship and understanding with dragons, attaching a sort of religious significance to the bond between dragons and their riders, and you have been given biological immortality (agelessness) for this reason. You will have been taught to view all dragons with respect, but to look down on dragon riders from other societies. The other dragons and their riders with you on this mission are considered to be your close friends and equals, both mentors and students, and you would have grown up closely with some of them as part of growing up with Ozerilet.

--- As part of a Mercenary Band you only know the others here loosely, in passing, or from prior business arrangements. Dragon riders who work as mercenaries often tend to either stick closely to one band for consistency of work, or - as is your case - will be loners who attach themselves to a mercenary band temporarily as part of a contract.

 

[Eventua]

Spoiler: Result and OOC

[12] "It's a dream I keep having. Sometimes it enters my mind's eye as if it were really happening, sorry."
[10] HERITAGE CLAN: The group of three dragons and their riders surrounding the central fire, playing games and singing songs.

Thank you all so much for the kind votes, I'll do my best!

You are Rell, born into the nineteenth generation of the Heritage Clan, the chosen people. Your dragon, Ozerilet, chose you when she hatched from her egg, and you have been inseparable since.

You can't help but laugh at the sight. Crouched around the largest and warmest fire at the centre of the camp, the bulk of the three dragons reminds you of small children fascinated by a particularly wriggly bug. Two of your fellow riders - Essme and Marr - are excitedly eating and laughing about something, and Marr has obviously gotten into one of his really excited moods because he swings an arm far enough that he taps Tornaulimet on the snout.

You can't help but think, Tornau really puts up with a lot, doesn't she?

I know her well, Rell. She wouldn't have it any other way.

Looking down at the trio of dragons there, you can't help but pick up some sense from Ozerilet that she takes joy in knowing that...

PICK ONE -- DRAGON WEIGHT CLASS CHOICE:
[] ...she's easily the fastest here (LIGHT-WEIGHT): Ozerilet is a relatively small dragon, approximately six meters long and almost fully grown despite her young age. She's well built and healthy for her size, mind, but she's always going to have to prioritize speed and agility in the air over a direct confrontation if she has to fight.
[] ...her flame burns the brightest (MEDIUM-WEIGHT): Ozerilet is a fairly well-balanced dragon for her age, being approximately eight meters long. Her main strength is the fact that her balance of weight and power lets her make the best use of her inner fire and thus will be able to both breathe fire in a wider range of ways and to have a decent measure of both agility and distance in the air.
[] ...she's easily the strongest here (HEAVY-WEIGHT): Ozerilet is a particularly large dragon for her age, being roughly ten and a half meters long. Her inner fire burns hot but struggles to change directions quickly, so her skillset will always be focused on being the scariest creature in the room and flying long distances.

The softness of the moment is drawn away - both at the camp and from your position as Ozerilet settles into a gentle landing glide. The sting in your side starts to feel sharper, and it strikes you that whatever hit Oz hasn't gotten easier to handle or numbed against the winter air - it's burning worse than before.

The look on your company's faces lets you know whatever's happened is dangerously visible.

With the scattering of cliffside dust under the draft from Ozerilet's landing, you let go of the harness and lean back, still viewing things through Oz's eyes. Essme is the first to approach, pushing a looped braid away from her face to look directly into Oz's eyes. You recognize that look, unfortunately.

"Rell, you ass! Get out of Ozerilet's head and help me with this wound, what the hell happened?!"

You and Oz grit your teeth but you're not going to argue this, she's right of course. Hesitating only long enough to get over your nerves, you and Ozerilet close your eyes as one... and with a rush of light and deep, eye-stinging smoke your eyes are your own once more.

You try to blink, and there's still darkness.

... Well.

The flight mask doesn't help so you try not to throw up as you swing your neck backwards and grab the latch at the back of the mask. It takes some effort to navigate it purely by touch while your whole body is wracked by moments of over-sensation followed by moments of your limbs and digits feeling further away than they should, but on the third try you're able to get the loop undone and the mask falls away with a soft thumb as it hits the harness. Your senses are a little more your own again, and you try to blink away the smoke.

The camp is a bit clearer, thankfully, but it's still a massive disappointment to be perceiving the world this way again. Your vision swims in haze and darkness, silhouettes that are almost people you could recognize.

Don't worry... Rell... it's meant... to get easie-

The ground beneath you jolts forward and you feel a spike in your side, just above your kidney. You hear a dragon's cry echoing in front of you, and you almost bite your tongue from the pain.

"What was that?!"

"Sorry, sorry! This is, uh, oh gosh... Milo! Anne! A little help here please!"

You hear the sound of the two non-rider members of your small crew scrambling with something in one of the tents, when Marr's hand taps you on the leg. You reach down a hand into the fog and feel the warmth of his grasp, slightly clammy from fear but firm, as he supports you in dismounting. It's a sharp hop, but not a difficult one, and you quickly shake it off despite the continued sense of your body being suspended in darkness.

You feel Marr's hand on your shoulder and glance to make eye contact, though his features are fuzzy. The mop of curly brown hair and the heavy brow are unmistakable, though.

"You okay, Rell? What happened out there?"

You do your best to ignore the mounting sense of something moving in your guts, shake your head, and focus on answering Marr.

"Oz could see something was wrong at the edge of the storm, so we went to investigate..."

PICK ONE:
[] "...and discovered a... wound, in the sky, with a purple fog drifting from it into the ground."
[] "...and discovered these... purple chains, glowing with light, reaching out of the ground and up into the sky."
[] "...and were attacked by... someone, we didn't get a good look. They ambushed us with this... dark purple energy."

Marr seems confused by what you've just told him, but before you can clarify or mention anything else of what happened your ears are filled by another roar, reverberating inside your skull.

Eugh... Rell... you snap your view to try and make out Oz's form in the fog, shuddering slightly at the realization that her breathing is getting shallower. Sharper.

Please... let me access... your pain...

Your mind shudders with the sensation of something wriggling, and you can feel your nausea worsen. It wants to get the better of you, but...

PICK ONE:
[] ...you grit your teeth and let Oz access your pain. You're not going to leave her to bear this terrible pain by herself.
[] ...you shake your head and refuse her access. You'll be of more help if you can recover your sight and see what the attack actually did to Oz, and that'll happen quicker without more sense sharing.

 

[Eventua]

You grit your teeth as the nausea wriggling its way up your right side digs in a little deeper, twisting into a spark of fear... but as much as it wants to grip you, you and Oz are one and the same.

The pact you made as children is as strong - must be stronger - than the tallest mountain. Your very souls depend on it, and in that recognition the fear leaves you. You close your eyes.

Of course, Oz. I can take it-

Regret hits you on an emotional level, but it almost immediately flickers away when it flies head first into the unbreakable fortress of pain that screams up your right side. You keel forward and hit the ground, your fingers only failing to bleed from clawing into the dirt because of your riding gloves.

A firm arm gently loops into your left, and on some level your conscious mind knows that Marr must be reeling from the sound of your screaming so close to him.

"It's okay Rell, let it out, we're not going anywhere."

You want to cry, but the pain is too sharp and... convoluted, to express in that way. Nausea sweeps up and fills your chest, as your heart thunders with a sickening dread.

Something is in your guts, and it wants to make Oz its new home.

You clench your jaw and swallow your screams as best you can. The fog enshrouding your sight feels denser, a purple light mingling with edges of the haze like the roots of a poisonous flower.

"Marr... tell Essme and... the others, there's..."

"Yeah? Where's the pain centred?"

"Whatever... hit us... there's a... something..." you reach down and gently tap your torso, just above your right hip, "crawling..."

You can't fully make out Marr shouting to the others on Oz's right, over the now much shallower, dulled sound of Oz's rumblings. You know that dragons have their own language - though dragontongue isn't a privilege you can claim to have - and so between that and the direct thoughts between the riders and their dragons, most of whatever is being said is lost to you.

Suddenly you feel Marr's grip on you tighten.

"We're going to the tent, okay?"

Your throat tightens, and with a venom you've rarely experienced you spit, "Why?! What's that mean?!"

His grip is firmer than yours - Marr has always been a big guy, as much muscle as fat - and in your current state any attempt to push away is futile. Your thoughts turn to Oz.

Oz, you... you okay...? What's... happening?

Her response takes a moment to reach you, and even in your mind her voice seems so much more fragile than it should be.

Yes, Rell... thank you. It still hurts, but... it's easier, I can... think clearer, thank you...

But...? How do we... fix it?

You can just about make out the shape of Oz's silhouette getting a little smaller, when her thoughts reach you with a quiet:

PICK ONE:
[] Saernaulinos can smell it, he's going to burn it out: Saernaulinos is Essme's dragon, and is famous among your generation for the deadly precision of his flame.
---- NOTE: This guarantees whatever's hurting Ozerilet dies, but there is a chance of additional harm to Ozerilet.

[] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out: Anne is one of the non-riders of the party and a deft hand for patching up both humans and dragons.
---- NOTE: There is the lowest chance of serious harm to Ozerilet or of side effects from the creature, but it may be able to escape into the wilds.

[] I'm going to use my inner fire to boil it: Ozerilet can, like all dragons, use her inner fire to flood her body with heat.
---- NOTE: This guarantees whatever's hurting Ozerilet dies, but it's unclear what side effects killing it in this way might have.

The pain clouding your mind remains an unbreakable fortress, but worry surrounds it and bubbles from every side. Part of you wants to argue against the idea...

[Y/N] Write-In?

...but whether you can get the thoughts across clearly or not, you can sense the resolve in her mind. There is the sound of more rumbling and a sharp pain in your chest, and before you can hear or feel what happens the fog is cut through by an overpowering wave of darkness.

You are unconscious, and your dreams are filled with pain.

****

It's a dream I keep having.

It's a long, dark night. You don't recall the last time the sun rose - somehow, you know it hasn't risen in generations. You are wandering, the soft soil sinking between your toes, but no matter where you wander the landscape doesn't change.

Hello.

Your vision snaps to a strange figure, and despite the vast, overpowering golden light that pours forth from it and beyond it, you feel like it's always been there, watching you from the darkness.

Its eyes glow with a blue light, and with a gentle smile it reaches out a hand.

Who are you? you think, and its face and form begin to take a familiar shape.

PICK ONE -- RELL'S APPEARANCE:
[] A tall, well-built young man with dark skin, curly blonde hair, and soft grey eyes.
[] A short, stocky young woman with olive skin, dark braids, and snowy white eyes.
[] Write-In

 

[Eventua]

Spoiler: Results

[5] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out
[4] A tall, well-built young man with dark skin, curly blonde hair, and soft grey eyes.

Who are you?

Wordlessly, its face and form begin to take a familiar shape.

His hair forms into rich curls the colour of the sunrise, and his shape becomes athletic and muscular despite his youth - no more than late teens or early twenties. His golden skin shimmers into bronze, then softens to a rich brown. Layers of leather and furs weave into being across his body and soon he is dressed for a long journey.

Lastly the sapphire of his eyes dulls, then flares with a roiling grey - like fog over the seaside horizon.

You nod to Rell, reaching out a scaled claw and taking his hand. Your heart is supposed to be settled, yet another question enters your mind.

Will the sun rise soon?

Rell tilts his head, and firmly places his free hand against your snout. Your whiskers drift around and touch his face, and your heart sinks. Your stomach sinks. Your claws sink, and the deep loam of the earth rises with strength that no dragon can match.

Rell's smile fades as he remains standing, the earth he stands on holding still, as the endless night threatens to consume you entirely. He cries out for you and clings to your claw, then he reaches for your harness and tries to hold you up, but no matter how you struggle the earth will claim you.

The golden figure and the promise it holds has disappeared.

There's only the darkness, and the certainty that terrible things from a time long ago - from before the ideal of time was even a flicker in the oldest eyes - are active in the world.

The storm is hungry, and what can children do against it?

****

You blink away the darkness to the sensation of someone tapping you on the shoulder, and the sound of distant birdsong.

"Hey, Rell, morning! How are you feeling?"

Your eyes adjust to the light streaming into your tent, blinking them away, as you look up and see a concerned smile on the face of...

PICK ONE -- PARTY:
[] Marr
---- Marr is a big guy, and even the village elders are undecided on how much of his size is muscle and how much is heart; you were born on the same night and attached to the same clutch, and the common ground of "tall with curly hair" have led to more than a few trying to claim you're literal brothers. His dragon, Tornaulimet ("Tornau"), is a roughly 9 and a half meters long heavy-weight with copper-green scales and a lot of patience. She's famed among your generation for the great distances she's flown, even at such a young age.

[] Essme
---- Essme is short, stocky girl with eyes like ivory and a quiet focus that occasionally flares into a snowstorm when times are tough. You were born on the same night and attached to the same clutch, and she's always been quick to help you when figuring out the more technical aspects of dragon riding. Her dragon, Saernaulinos ("Saern"), is a lithe 6 and a half meters long light-weight with dark green scales. According to Ozeri he's got a wicked sense of humour. He's famed among your generation for the deadly precision of his firebreathing.

[] Anne
---- Anne is a veritable pine tree of a woman with an eye for detail and flowing dark hair. She's not a dragon rider - along with her husband Milo she was attached to the expedition as support, helping with packing and setting up tents, gathering supplies, preparing food, and mending wounds. Anne and Milo are inseparable, and together they have a lot of useful, practical skills.

You go to move, mumbling a quick "feeling better" in response when they put a firm hand against your chest. The gentle smell of rabbit stew fills your nose.

"You need rest, and food. Get your strength up."

The ache in your muscles wants you to do what they say. You sigh and tell them...

PICK TWO:
[] "...where are the others?"
[] "...what happened?"
[] "...no, I need to see Oz. I'll eat when I know she's okay!"
[] "..." Oz, can you hear me?

 

[Eventua]

Spoiler: Results

[5] Essme

[6] "..." Oz, can you hear me?
[4] "...what happened?"

The hand against your chest has been toughened by the north, and eyes like snow cut you off from standing too tall. In theory, you're stronger than Essme, but there's an indescribable force to her that leaves you sitting.

...and your stomach is growling-

No.

You have to know. You can't eat until you know, so you close your eyes and focus Ozerilet in your mind's eye.

The darkness curls around you, inky blackness reaching out, when the ripple is answered - like a pebble into a pond, responded by someone on the other side of the pond dropping in their own pebble. It's a quiet ripple - restful breathing, the warmth in your chest after a good meal, a morning breeze echoing across your skin.

Oz... Oz, can you hear me?

...

The wait feels like forever, and your heart skips a beat.

The breeze can't be restful until you know.

...

Rell...?

You let go of the breath you had started to hold in, and the sound of distant birdsong and wind through the hillsides is overpowered by a deep, sluggish rumbling. You find the strength to put the bowl down and push past Essme despite her protests. As you emerge from the tent, you can see Saernaulinos standing watch over the camp, and-

Oz!

Her form against the early morning light of a storm now passed. She's still stirring back to life, and as she lifts her neck and turns to look at you through blue-grey eyes, the sunlight dances across her scales and takes on the colours of...

PICK TWO -- OZERILET'S APPEARANCE:
[] Burnished Copper
[] Autumn Leaves
[] a Lightning Flash
[] Fresh Snow
[] Glacier Ice
[] Roiling Stormclouds
[] Finely Cut Sapphires
[] the Light Before Sunrise
[] a Starfilled Night
[] Thick Tar

For a moment you find yourself back to your thirteenth spring, when Oz got sick with scalemites and you had to wait for the healers and wise women to let her out of the cavern. Your footsteps almost give out beneath you as you run to her, wrapping your arms around her neck. She shudders a little, and then leans forward.

I'm here Oz! I'm here-

You wince for a moment, a sharpness in your side. The pain is eased, just a little, as you feel a rhythmic stroking, backwards and forwards on the top of your head - her chin, resting there.

Yeah, she aches, and so you ache, Anne did a good job with the stitches, but… whatever it was, it's slowed my healing.

You step back, craning your neck slightly to look her in the eyes.

Are you going to be okay? What… what happened?

Oz leans back slightly, her claws scratching into the soil as she winces with each breath. She dwarfs you, yet for a moment - with the way the mountains on the horizon frame her, you almost get the impression of a wolf too small for its kill.

Anne got it out, and Saernaulinos insists he killed it, but…

Her snout wrinkles, and your tongue tingles with the memory of something bitter.

…I think part of it escaped, somehow. Saern and the others kept dodging my questions, and I didn't have the strength to keep asking, so… I went to sleep.

You smile and reach up to pat her neck, that was the right thing to do, even as something else is bothering you.

Oz, that was… wretched. Were you… were you feeling that the whole time we were traveling? Why didn't you tell me?

She shakes her head, gives a rather weak smile, and then curls up onto her front legs.

I can feel your hunger, Rell. I need to rest, and you need to eat.

…

Part of you wants to say something to such an abrupt non-answer, but your thought is interrupted as Saern turns to look at you - those sharp golden eyes, like a cat watching a rabbit - then past you, and then you feel a tap on the shoulder.

It's Essme, her patience for your needed space at the end of her tether.

"Eat your breakfast! Before the rabbits take offense at letting it get cold."

Your stomach rumbles to punctuate her point, and so despite the worries clouding your mind you take the bowl from her hands, sit down by your tent, and start shovelling it into your mouth in a way that your mother would've slapped you for.

****

The sun is still fresh in the sky as you finish the stew, the last chunks of soft meat and gravy scooped up with a piece of stale bean bread. It's not as good as your mother makes it - how could it be? - but it's spicy and filling and it goes down well. Even so, the thought of your mother reminds you to pray.

You close your eyes, picturing her face. The folds of her cheeks and the warmth of the smile they hold, dark skin and hair like the flickering of a campfire.

…Miss you, praying to the seeds carried on the wind, I'll come home soon.

You open your eyes to see Essme and the long dark braids that fall across her shoulders and the layers of her riding clothes. Unlike your relatively plain gear, hers have been decorated with intricate geometric stitchings - abstract patterns of red flowers, blue fish, and sharp grey-green gemstones. A farewell gift from her own mother.

She's looking at something along the mountainside, distant and small, when she stops to meet your gaze - those eyes like ivory, eyes like no one else's amidst any of your people. Part of you wonders if eyes like that must be common amongst the saltwater families - perhaps one day you'll get to travel there.

"Was it good?" she asks, and your subconscious saves you from making things awkward by breaking eye contact, to give a hearty nod.

"Thank you, it was wonderful, though…" your mind is clouded once more with the worries of last night. The morning breeze has settled, and your belly is full. You have to know.

"Oh?"

"...what happened, Essme?"

Her smile fades, and her eyes narrow. She glances down into her hands as her voice shakes, just a little.

"It was... horrible, like maggots or burning oil, like some sort of demon. Anne managed to latch on to it and dragged it from Ozeri's side, as it…" she sticks out her tongue as if by reflex and the colour fades a little from her face, "it was puckering and squirming, and... the stench, Rell, I wanted to throw up! Like rotting meat, like pus and blood, and..."

She hesitates, and you can tell from her eyes that it's brought up a bad memory. You have a guess or two what it might be.

"Like, like-"

Her voice catches in her throat, and you reach out to hold her hand even as your own chest tightens.

"...like bloodthroat?" you ask.

A wretched common ground.

She nods, then shakes her head, "...but it got away, Rell."

"...wh-what?"

"Once Anne took it out of the wound, Sae went to burn it and it… it tore itself in two. We killed part of it but it... some part of it leapt from the hook, dashed over the cliff and into the trees. It was so small, like some kind of slug, but it was gone in the moment!"

Essme looks out at and gestures at the camp, now empty besides you two and Ozerilet - Saernaulinos, you notice, stretches his wings and takes flight, arcing into the distance and circling around the area. Essme shakes her head, and lets out a small sigh.

"We tried searching for it but it... it had disappeared, even to dragon senses. Then Marr started talking about the thing you mentioned, something about chains in the ground? Since the storm was going to get worse, Qaddan asked me to stay behind and guard the camp while him, Aurtil, Marr, and Tornau set off before the storm."

"...what?! That was... that was hours ago! What if they…" your breath gets shorter, and a fiercer heat reaches up into your chest, "whoever attacked us nearly killed Oz! What is he thinking?! They've been gone most of the night, and they're not back yet?"

Qaddan is an experienced rider and the leader of the mission, and his dragon Aurtilamokh is a fearsome warrior, but… to fly into the beginnings of a storm, to face an unknown enemy? Even with two dragons that was a dangerous choice.

You shake your head, and gesture to the unattended cooking utensils at the centre of the camp.

"And what about Anne and Milo?"

Essme glances to her right, freeing her hand and… after giving it a moment, she gestures to an area of the hills across the valley and you and Oz had crossed on your way back.

"There's a village not far from here, to the east down the mountainside, maybe a few hours away. It's not part of the empire or owned by pactlords - we're not sure who they are, but Anne and Milo can handle themselves if needed. They figured it was a good place to gather information and resupply after the storm died down."

She gives her biggest smile and... it's really not helping.

Your body is largely recovered, but there's still some phantom pain lingering - and it'll take a while longer for Ozerilet's body to fully heal.

What will you do?

PICK ONE:
[] Rest, and wait at least a few more hours for the others to return
---- NOTE: If this option is picked, please also choose a back-up option - if the others don't come back soon, you will be forced to take action anyway.
[] Head down the mountain into the unknown village, to make sure Anne and Milo are okay
---- NOTE: If you set off on foot, the journey will take several hours. On the other hand, taking a dragon into a village unaligned with any of the three dragon riding nations runs the risk of scaring the locals or starting a fight.
[] Set off to re-investigate the area of the skirmish and make sure the other dragons and their riders are okay
---- NOTE: If you set off on foot to find the other dragons and their riders, the journey will easily take you a day if not longer and it will be difficult to receive help if things go wrong.


PICK ANY NUMBER OF ALLIES -- who should join you?:
[] Ozerilet
---- NOTE: If Ozerilet comes with you to the area of the skirmish, she will fly you - though this will be a painful experience for her. If Ozerilet doesn't join you while you leave the camp, it will give her more time to rest.
[] Essme
[] Saernaulinos
---- NOTE: Requires Ozerilet and/or Essme - it would be taboo to travel alone with another dragon, and on a more practical level you have no way to communicate with Saernaulinos without either Oz or Essme as a go-between.