Private Tales Dragon Dreams | Fieravene

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Aivrid

Aivrid

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Tag: Fieravene

It is time...
​
The town of Kannorgopad seemed to be bustling with activity today. The Sereti ogres were working tirelessly in the little time left before the Lessat eclipse and the festivities that would soon follow. Those who weren't preparing for the festival had been told to meditate in their homes. One would think that orcs would have trouble finding peace and tranquility, but they were doing quite well -- for Aivrid's purposes, at least.

Far above in the mountain, Aivrid landed in the secret air entrance. In his enormous claws he'd gathered a large amount of snow, which he set down on the platform. The dragon exhaled on the snow and it melted almost instantly, the water flowing into the many shallow pools that surrounded him. With a glance to the sky he confirmed that the timing was just right. Soon enough the eclipse would begin, as would his ceremony.

Aivrid had already brought everything else he needed for the scrying. With one of the ancient dragon-slaying blades in his hoard, the ancient yet-living dragon pricked the flesh on his palm; there was a small hole in his scales there from doing this so regularly. A slow trickle of blood came out, and Aivrid put a drop in each of the pools before tossing the blade back down into the abyss below.

He inhaled deeply, then turned his neck back towards the other entrance. "Fieravene." It shouldn't have been much of a surprise that he knew who came in and out of his cave. Compared to most, the dark elf likely had an easy time navigating through the thick darkness of the entrance to the cavern. "Come. You're just in time."
 
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She'd left her steed at the base of the mountain, choosing to subject herself to traveling by foot for Gods only knew what reason. Perhaps as part of some strange form of self cleansing. A ritualistic justice derived from discomfort and exhaustion. Whatever the case may be, it took several hours to traverse the rocky landscape that would eventually lead her to Aivrid's lair.

A place she only knew the location of due to no small part of several bottles of wine over the course of one woefully eventful lunch. She was in the area, seemed only polite to drop by unannounced as she was wont to do. Not that she needed to announce herself, it seemed Aivrid had plenty enough awareness to do the job for her. Having shed the Shaed armor nearly a day ago, Fieravene arrived in the light leather armor most knew her by. The bright glow of her red eyes preceded her through the darkness, turning upwards to the figure of the scaled behemoth as he came into view.

The dark elf offered him a wane smirk, stepping into the open area with open curiosity.

Of everything she'd imagined and expected, she found the reality of his lair did not disappoint, "I like what you've done here. Very 3rd Age Morinthian Dark." Not that she suspected Aivrid cared at all for mortal fads of architecture and decor. The Morinthians had been dead for a few hundred years anyway.

"Just in time?" she joined him as bid, dark hands folded at her back, eyes narrowing as she looked out to the sky. Eclipse, right. Well, she'd let him explain it anyway.
 
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Just in time.
​
The dragon snorted at the idea that his lair could be compared to a structure built by the little ones, particularly the Morinthians. Aivrid had burned many of those little fortresses of theirs. Compared to his lair? They were just ash in the wind.

"The eclipse... well, more importantly my ceremony," he explained. "The Lessat eclipses can grant seers greater power. The sun's light so often washes away what can be seen in the dark..." He trailed off, seeming to muse to himself about the Lessat eclipse a little more before he continued. "I am no great seer-" Well, he was great, and he was a seer, but that wasn't the point, "-but I dabble." He'd spent years perfecting this ceremony.

He glanced at the small, leather-clad woman as she approached the edge of one of the pools. The blood he'd spilled into them had spread evenly throughout each; they maintained a crimson hue across the surface. Aivrid looked up again at the sky. Only a few more minutes. Perhaps Fieravene would like to participate as well?

"Is there anything you wish to see?"
 
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"You dabble..." Fieravene fixed the dragon with smirking disbelief. This wasn't the work of someone who dabbled in anything. Aivrid dabbled in human cuisine and fornication - this was clearly something next level. How very humble of him.

"Unless it can show me where to find a most perfect cup of coffee, a cozy bed, a naked desert courtier, and a hot bath..." her smirk persisted, becoming wistful. Wait a moment, she knew exactly where to find all of that except, "perhaps just the coffee."

The dark elf was, admittedly, tired. It had been a long week spent in the sun, torturing abtati traitors, saving the vizier of war, manifesting carnage and oblivion unto unworthy souls. She'd been busy. It was almost like she'd taken some form of responsibility upon her shoulders. Fiera shuddered at the thought.

"Not much for the all-knowing. I rather like a bit of mystery in my life. Keeps my days interesting."
 
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What a silly little woman I've found in my company.
​
"Am I not company enough for you?" The dragon jested. In truth there were few amenities for the little folk in the lair proper; perhaps he could summon some coffee. The orcs certainly didn't have any. Their diet was the bare minimum, only the healthiest of foods such that they would grow to be large, strong, and fertile. Truly the same as their overlord.

Aivrid surveilled the pools, staring at his reflection. Soon enough the sky began to darken as the eclipse began. This particular time of year was when his seeing magic would be the strongest -- he did not intend to waste it for the sake of keeping his days interesting. "You are a fool, Fieravene. Amusement has little to do with it. This is work. This is... duty." He stood on his hind legs, raising his claws to the sky as he spoke the draconic incantation. The words were harsh, almost brutal, and his form seemed to glow a soft purple as the spell came to a close. Fieravene, too, would find herself glowing for a few moments, before the pools bubbled and Aivrid fell back onto all fours.

The behemoth breathed deeply, stretching out one claw and touching the surface of the crimson pool in front of him. "Show me Gerra, the God-Emperor." The bubbles stopped and the surface seemed to clear; the image of the half-giant appeared. He sat in a bar, across from a red-haired woman. Their mouths moved, but he could not hear -- at least, not from here. The dragon leaned forward and placed his head in the pool. Earlier it had been shallow, but Aivrid's head seemed to sink in easily, entirely immersed in the magic waters.

He stayed there only a short while before returning, removing his head from the water. "To be all-knowing is to be all-powerful, my dear. And you should know what my intentions are." Aivrid turned to the pool to his right, again touching it with a single claw. "Show me that which Fieravene desires."
 
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The elf's smirk persisted, a crooning sound filtering through pursed lips, "Here I thought I was undeserving of a dragon's company, but if you're offering..." well, she'd certainly take it. Fiera stepped forward if only not to appear rude. She had no intentions of joining his ceremony, but her marked curiosity of how a dragon might go about such things couldn't be helped.

You are a fool, Fieravene.

The words boomed within her very bones and she thought for a moment she was experiencing deja vu. That name had been used plenty to describe her in ages prior, yet here she stood long after those who deemed her so. Alive and kickin. Amusing to the last. Amusement had everything to do with it. Aivrid surely knew that by now if he knew the dark elf at all. Had she heard him clearly, doting on her with a level of imperial fondness? Fi sniffed, she smiled, she lightly wiped at her eye.

I think he likes me...

As the great behemoth pulled his massive skull from the pool, dripping and singing his immortal wisdom to her, she shifted on feet and folded her arms lightly at her back. Say what you will about the dark elf, her posture was impeccable.

"I would never presume to know the intentions of a dragon," she replied lightly, a wistful gaze lingering his way as he hovered over a different pool, "but I can certainly imagine." Aivrid hadn't exactly kept it a secret what he planned to do. To become King of his kind, to expand his realm and influence, to become all powerful. Best leave the Seeing to him, if that were the case.

Show me that which Fieravene desires.

The elf inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and exhaled over a wane smile.

In the pool the dragon would see a most perfect setting of coffee, pouring into a plain white mug. Truly the elf's desires were not so unattainable, though presently it certainly seemed so. Gods, she could almost taste it.
 
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Well, I suppose that isn't too bad.
​
Aivrid sighed. "All presume until they are faced by one." Everyone just assumed he was some evil dragon, a scourge on the land meant to wipe out all life and rule over the ashes... to be fair, it was reasonably close, but the adventurers who so often came to his doorstep rarely ever asked him of his ambition. Even Fieravene was no different. None could truly understand the scope, nor the detail of his plans. It was just taking a while to get everything moving.

In truth the dragon was surprised by the vision given by the pool -- the image was not enough to stir his interest beyond this face value. Fieravene had always seemed like someone who did what she liked, so this short-term desire was not far-fetched, but he was suspicious. Surely there was something else. For now he simply cast a disdainful glance upon the elf, disappointed with her lack of ambition... or perhaps deeply impressed that she was able to mask her true desires. It was still difficult to tell, even for those who spent time with dragons.

He turned once more, placing a claw above the bubbling pools and speaking of what he wished to see. His greatest enemy, his brother, the next key... to less specific things; of creatures lost and found, of magic of great power, of those who sought him out.

"I had not thought you were someone of little ambition, Fieravene," he said as he continued his work. The images began to change faster, and he dipped his head in the pools only for short moments. "Most elves hope to achieve things greater than the acquisition of temporary luxuries... though, I do understand the appeal." The tastes and smells of little things were indeed quite alluring.

Aivrid sniffed, turning to Fieravene once more. "Do you truly wish for nothing more?" It was vital to know.
 
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An ease of calm settled about the elf as she opened her eyes again, quietly taking in the beastly expressions on the dragon's face after seeing what it was she desired. Be he disappointed or impressed, neither indication seemed to move Fiera, and indeed she found a certain serenity of contentment in having perplexed him so if that was truly what she had accomplished.

She closed her eyes again, breathing deeply, boots planted shoulder-width apart, face basking in the saturated darkness of the eclipse. There was a relaxing aspect to these sorts of events that one from the Underdark could willfully appreciate. Tiny shreds of moments where the Overbright experienced that same hallow blackness that her people lived in their entire lives. Fiera was at home in the dark, she'd been born into it, and there existed not one single thing that could be found in it that would cause her fear.

Having settled into a meditation of sorts while the dragon performed his ceremony, she cracked an eye open as he turned to her once more to inquire after her wants.

"Well that is a very broad statement," she offered back to him, "have you met most of the elves of this world?"

Certainly not, Fi thought, she'd be willing to bet she'd met more elves than he had and she knew for a fact most of them were not anywhere near as ambitious as he thought. Her expression brightened in, yes, amusement, as she canted her head just slightly to one side and released a slow breath, "I desire to do as I please and thus far," the elf casually lifted a hand to dust off her careworn leather armor, "I've no complaints save for a lack of good coffee."

A light sniff, a short survey of the realm beyond, "bit more fire and a night spent naked with a certain not-dragon couldn't hurt."
 
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Unfortunately I am a dragon.
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Aivrid chuckled, the earth seeming to rumble just slightly, as if it were laughing with him. "To be fair, many of my encounters with elves haven't been with the intention of speaking," he said. "I wouldn't consider that meeting someone."

His eyes turned to the pools once more. One showed an elven man alongside a dragon and her brood -- Aivrid leaned over, dipping his head in the pool. His senses were immersed in a faraway land for only a short time. Soon enough he reared back, disgust painting his features. "Cretin," the dragon growled. With a wave of his hand the pool changed again.

"Perhaps I haven't met many elves, but I've seen many. You are correct, though; I generalize far too much... the larger the group, the more predictable. Individuals, of course, are far more interesting." He didn't look back at the dark elf, instead continuing his work. The pool behind him showed some sort of gryphon; far larger than the average, though this was not apparent at a glance. The creature flew far above the ground in the skystreams. Aivrid stared at the pool, knowing that dipping his head inside this one would be far more dangerous than the others... still, that fight would come someday. Again he waved his hand, the pool returning to the crimson of his blood.

With Fieravene's... 'offer', Aivrid chuckled again. The behemoth raised his head and spat a gout of flame towards the sun -- only to have the purple dragon fire slam against an invisible barrier of force. "A little precaution." Until the eclipse ended, both of them would be trapped inside the platform. Normally it was meant to protect Aivrid while he was immersed and his senses were changed, though he was not all that worried.

His gaze returned to the dark elf, considering her words. In truth he was not all that interested in such... luxuries, at the moment. "Is that why you have come here, Fieravene? Is that what you take me for?" He snorted. Perhaps if she'd been a dragon...

Aivrid turned again to another pool. For a moment he thought it showed nothing, but soon the image shifted slightly and he realized he was looking at a lake of blood. Odd... it'd take an enormous creature to supply so much...
 
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Smile broadening to the curious sensation of the monster's laughter booming through the air, the elf took a moment to steel herself against the idea that such an expression wasn't very common for him. At least, in such a earnest form. The laughter of mirth and mayhem that preceded carnage and holocaust scenes wasn't the same. She watched the spectacle of his brilliant flame where it crashed, buffered, against the projected ward. Curious, she hadn't expected to be trapped with him here but she supposed there were worse places to be trapped with a dragon.

"I take you for a dragon who appreciates candor," Fiera replied wryly before folding her free arm behind her back again. Far be it from she to leave her desires unsung, especially when it came to those of luxury and the flesh. Too often did these things go unappreciated.

"Not often a dragon extends an invitation to visit their den," the elf shifted, amused at the memory of their lunch in Ragash, "color me intrigued, so here I am. Do you wish me to leave?"
 
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Not entirely sure myself...
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"Mm, I appreciate honesty in others." Not in himself. Or other dragons, in fact. He fully expected that he would be deceived often when speaking to another of his kind, just as he would deceive them. Those who were honest were simply easier to manipulate, and that was something he valued greatly in others...

His focus was no longer on the conversation, though. The lake of blood in the vision was too intriguing. Moreover he felt drawn to it... drawn by blood, in a sense. The dragon leaned over, submerging his head in the pool and immersing his senses in a place far from his lair.

The dragon sniffed, immediately recognizing the scent of a dragon. Not just any dragon -- it was Sathirena's blood. This must've been where she'd died. Perhaps the secret to restoring her was here? Or perhaps the power of her breath and magic... in any case, he needed to find it. The environment indicated mountains, but these were not of the Spine or the Seret. The temperature... could this be Eretejva? If only he was there in the flesh, he'd be able to fly up and see more, but instead his focus was on this woman swimming in the lake of blood. The seeing magic had yet to fail him; whatever was happening here was of great importance, and he would be a fool to miss it.

He'd be heartless not to feel the pain and power of this place, too -- Sathirena's last true breaths were held here, as was her blood, her hate, and... there was something, deep below. The beating heart of darkness, rage, fire... the last gift of a dragon. Aivrid tried to see deeper through the crimson but he could not; the focus was still on the woman, who had transformed into a wolf, her fur drenched in the blood of a great dragon.

After a few more minutes Aivrid returned to his lair, bringing his head out of the pool and inhaling deeply. Fieravene's words caught him at a good time. The dragon turned to the dark elf, a ponderous expression coloring his scales -- at least, that was probably what it was, Aivrid was as unreadable as ever.

"Yes, I think you should leave," he finally said. "In a few days. You will need to prepare." He turned to look at the fading image of the pool, along with that which was most precious clutched in that woman's hands. "I have an errand for you. Several, in fact, and you will carry them out with due haste. In return, I will provide you resources to complete these errands, as well as that which you desire." A single purple eye turned back to Fieravene. "Do you accept?"
 
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Patient and reticent was the dark elf as the dragon broke conversation to resume his Seeing. Fiera opted to close her eyes while she stood and waited, resting on her feet as it were. It was a short enough moment of respite to keep her from letting her own mind wander too far, red eyes slivering open upon the rumbling tone of the beast once more.

My but wasn't he a demanding fiend. She supposed it wasn't in his - or likely any dragon's - ability to ask for anything.

"Oh, I believe I can fit your errands into my schedule alongside my current mission for your Emperor."
 
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I do not have the words...
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The dragon straightened, his head turning such that both his eyes focused on Fieravene. The atmosphere suddenly felt heavier as his gaze pierced the little dark elf. Aivrid exuded a new sort of pressure that could freeze those of insufficient will; rarely had he had to use it, as most felt that same pressure when he burned their homes and tore through their heroes, but it seemed that Fieravene needed reminding.

The air seemed to thin as Aivrid inhaled deeply. He allowed the silence to sit for a moment as he stared down at the woman. Finally he spoke. "Fieravene, I am a generous dragon. I have been most patient with you. Mock me again, and I will be far less generous to you in the future.

"Am I clear?" The pressure let up, long enough for her to speak her response.
 
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The elf blinked up at the dragon, calm in the face of death.

"There is no mockery here, Aivrid, only the honest nature you so appreciate. I'm already on a mission for your Emperor."
 
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I suppose it is I who is the fool.
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Aivrid listened to Fieravene. Unwavering as she was, it was actually Aivrid who turned away first -- the sun had peeked out from under the moon, and the spells had begun to dissipate. The barrier had dissolved and the pools turned back to a calm, clear water. The dragon sniffed the air and looked out at the mountains, thinking for a few moments.

"Your coffee will be there for you tomorrow morning in the guest house in Kannorgopad. A shaman will be there with instructions for you." The aura around him had evaporated as well, and the dragon approached the edge of the platform, staring out at the horizon.
 
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Red eyes maintained their unwavering contact with those of purple for as long as it took. When the dragon looked away her gaze followed, glancing briefly to the shifting moon with a relenting sigh. The darkness had been nice while it lasted and, it appeared, the ceremony was over. Fiera wondered, briefly, if she had been a substantial distraction, then she remembered that dragons were rather willful about what held their attention.

The promise of coffee pulled her from this reverie. Having fully expected to be camping out somewhere other than an actual bed, the mention of a guest house was more than welcome.

"Lovely, thank you."

She'd left her steed back in Kannorgopad, so at the very least it was also convenient.

"Is there-" the elf paused, believing to have been summarily dismissed with those last words but now not quite so sure, "something wrong?"

Was he still upset about his perceived slight?
 
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Something wrong...
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The dragon inhaled deeply, then laid down. He kept his head up, staring out at the horizon; even in a more humble posture he towered over the little ones. And was that always right? This so often happened. Not a few years ago he'd watched from afar in this same way and decided to do nothing. So much had changed in such a short time, and yet... should he have allowed himself to be drawn back into the world?

So rare was self-doubt in Aivrid's life, but he had promised himself that he would take the time to contemplate when it came to him. Perhaps speaking aloud would be better. The dragon let out a rumbling sigh and spoke once more.

"In truth... I am tired, Fieravene. Weary of this world. And I feel that I have not left enough behind." He cast his gaze on the dark elf, but somehow the purple eye that regarded her was much less menacing than before. "A dragon's life is so often a lonely one, but offspring to carry on my legacy would be the greatest company. They would learn, surpass me... pick my bones clean once they have finished with me. Then I will be truly content, satisfied." His eyes wandered back to the empty pools beneath him, and he pieced together what his connection to what he'd seen was.

When he'd been born, he'd already had the knowledge and power of a dragon, gifted to him by his mother -- along with her expectations. And he'd followed those expectations perfectly. Perhaps that was the greatest manipulation of all...

And perhaps he needed to change things. But there was much to consider.
 
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The dark elf fell silent under the rare moment of emotional confession from the would-be dragon King. Fiera considered herself honored to be party to it, and moved herself quietly across the stone to join him near the edge. There, Aivrid's voice reverberated through his chest and into the air, quaking in her bones like close thunder. Made all the more prominent by the nature of them, it elicited a deep sigh from the elf.

Curious though, for his presumed age he did not yet have any progeny? Were they dead or had he perhaps not yet found a mate suitable to his bloodline and gargantuan size? Admittedly Fiera knew very little about the world of dragons beyond the superficial and most of her interactions with them had been ... less than friendly.

The new insight was quite intriguing.

"To leave a worthy legacy can seem quite daunting to the little ones of the world," she admitted, "I cannot imagine the weight it bears for a dragon."

She took a moment to gaze out at the realm beyond, pondering her own legacy. One that was as complicated as it was messy.

"And parenthood, hm," Fiera smiled easily, "novel concept that it is for one such as myself, thought I've contemplated it. Do you not have any descendants?"
 
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The weight...
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"It is crushing," he commented in response. There was no comparison to be drawn between the little ones and dragons when it came to the importance of their bloodline; with so few dragons born every generation, they were simply too precious to be thrown away. They needed to grow, to become strong, to learn their place in the world quickly such that they could survive and beat back the inferior creatures that sought to usurp them.

Aivrid shook his head. "Descendants... there are many kinds of dragons, but for most, such as myself, parenthood is not the same as for the little ones. I might father children, but unless I am present for the bestowing of magic, I am not truly a parent." Usually it was left to the women to complete the rituals; Aivrid never met his own father, as obviously he had not been necessary in the eyes of his mother.

"Many years ago, I actively sought mates. In a way, I was -- what is the term... ah. I was a whore, constantly searching to father broods, but aside from blood, my mark was not left." And now, there might be a chance to be a part of a child of his. Moreover, a chance to restore a worthy mate to life...
 
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Fieravene kept her smirk at the whore comment quiet, finding that humor at this juncture would be in poor taste, much as the thought amused her. She focused, instead, on the curious nature of fathering a brood. Seemed it was not so much being there to teach and raise, but to bestow ... magic? Wisdom? Knowledge? Would any such dragoness do or were there certain ... varieties, breeds, types he stuck to? How long were dragons fertile? Did virility diminish over the ages? Was there such a thing as an ugly dragoness? She'd yet to see a dragon of any sort that hadn't inspired awe, but Fi supposed awe and beauty were not mutually exclusive.

The dark elf wondered if this topic was one of study and if so, where she could find more information on it. Probably Elbion college - she internally groaned - where those insufferable mages foottled about with their fancy frippery. Waste not, want not. Fiera suppressed the desire to voice her curiosities and instead opted to support the dragon in his goal to seed the world with his children.

"It is fortunate that you still have your health and time to make your mark," she offered the dragon an earnest smile, "may there never be a world without dragons. I do wish I could be of more help to you, Aivrid, for I am certain if I were a dragon that we would create most magnificent progeny."
 
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...does she want my children?
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Aivrid paused to consider Fieravene's words. The dragon again cast a single purple eye on the dark elf, seeming to probe her mind and emotions, searching for any hint of deception or sarcasm. Before long he decided it was enough, and the behemoth exhaled, his breath visible in the cool mountain air.

"I agree. Though, half dragons are strong in their own right. Among your kind, of course." Kind, as in size. Saying 'little ones' every time proved tedious. "To be fair, I could polymorph you, but then you'd also need to wait through several months as the eggs matured in that form." He could not imagine that the dark elf had enough patience to be a brood mother, nor any kind of mother.

Aivrid sighed and brought his head lower to the ground, closer to Fieravene. He spoke much more softly this time, such that she did not shake when he did. "If not children, then I will seek another way. Magic, perhaps..." The end of his mouth was tugged a little, and his teeth glinted just past the thick black scales. A smile? "Oh, if the scholars of Elbion had my knowledge, the world would be changed overnight."
 
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"To be fair, I could polymorph you, but then you'd also need to wait through several months as the eggs matured in that form."

Fiera's brows shot up into her hairline, "You can do that?" Somehow her surprise at his statement was cause for surprise itself. Her, of all people, should not have been surprised to learn he was capable of such things.

Now there was a proposition unmatched.

"What an adventure, to be certain. What's a few months or years to the span of several centuries?" a bright interest met the massive skull of the dragon as he descended for a ...smile, "But that would put a damper on your mission for me. Perhaps another time, hm?"

If there was anything between them they shared aplenty, it was time. Aivrid spoke of his knowledge and Elbion and despite the softer tone of his voice it still reverberated through her figure. The closeness of the sound heralded a rising of the elf's proverbial hackles in scintillation. She shivered, "You give them quite a lot of credit, far more than I do. I find them to be narrow-minded and unilaterally focused on themselves instead of the grander stage."

The elf breathed deeply, releasing it through her nose for a moment of introspection on her experiences with the people of Elbion, gaze drifting away from the beastly maw, "There is another ...institution of academic sorcery to the far east. I've heard tell of it at various ports of trade. A place not dominated by human ideals or doctrines," she looked back to him, head canted faintly, "could be worth investigating."
 
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Could be worth investigating.
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"Perhaps another time," the dragon grunted. Of course it'd cost him quite a bit to keep her in that form for a long time. Teaching Fieravene how to polymorph herself into a dragon might be better, though Aivrid had not yet seen such power demonstrated by a small folk. After all, there were a great many scholars in Elbion searching for such secrets. As of yet none had uncovered the same things he had. Aivrid snorted as he remembered his last escapade to the place. There was a reason no one had had the idea of widespread recording of history and knowledge for so long -- many of Elbion's books had a habit of disappearing mysteriously. It wouldn't do to lose so much information in an instant.

Alas there were many other centers of knowledge across their vast world. Elbion was only special because it had a reputation; discovering things a little earlier than everyone else was indeed a notable feat. Still, if he gave the tools to the orcs in Kannorgopad, he was sure that they would develop quickly. They'd already mastered the use of coal as a fuel to adapt to their situation in the mountains. A little more and they could have a civilization as advanced as the Golden City...

"You're right, Elbion is an odd little specimen, but it does have a reputation for such things." Aivrid shrugs. "It has been quite a while since I visited... perhaps I could knock them down a peg if I do," he said idly. "Humans have that tendency, do they not? Their tiny lives making them petty and lacking in perspective... the orcs down there are the same, in some ways. Though, understanding their betters is a trait I most appreciate in them."

He listened intently to the dark elf's account of another great hub of knowledge. The dragon bared his teeth in a wry smile. "Convenient that you will soon be heading very far east. Perhaps you will investigate for me?" As usual it wasn't a request.
 
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Words remained unspoken on the subject of pettiness, tiny lives, and lack of perspective - a habit learned out of necessity once her life in the Overbright had begun. Her people rarely held back their sense of superiority over the light-dwellers, but her people also lacked a great deal of perspective in their own way. Leave it to the dragon to formulate his own opinions as he was want to do, let only the fool tell him he was wrong.

The dark elf returned his cheshire smile with one of her own, an easy smirk coming to replace it after a moment, "I'll add it to the list."

This was going to end up being a long journey. She would need to adjust her travel plans and schedule to push things along more quickly. Perhaps she could find Toruuk Stoneheart out by the Spine? She thought she recalled him mentioning a short return home at some point.

"Perhaps you will consider my company for the evening before I set off on the morrow?"
 
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Tag: Fieravene

What is she talking about?
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The dragon rested his head against the cool stone platform, content to rest a little while after using his magic. He really had nothing left to do today. Perhaps he'd visit Kannorgopad for a moment? He wasn't sure how much power he should give Fieravene over the orcs, though it might be good to be sure that they would listen to her. He was sending many of them with her on her journey. They'd be dropped off in many places and they could handle themselves. Still, with Aivrid in command so often, very few leaders or commanders had arisen among the Sereti aside from those trained as shamans.

He grunted to the elf's question, not entirely thinking about it. "Is that not..." His eyes suddenly widened slightly before one focused on Fieravene. Was that what she was here for? He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Aivrid relaxed after a moment. He supposed sexual companionship wasn't too far off from simply talking.

"Perhaps. Is there a form you would prefer I take? I have no preference."
 
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