Private Tales Dragonhide

[Samantha Black]

Sagarus
Sandrun Trade Route - 2 weeks Ride Northwest of Vel Anir

Seemed like she'd only just returned from this direction not but a few weeks ago, out on mission with her fellow Initiate Henk to track down an unknown threat. Now she traveled the Sandrun once again, only this time in the presence of a venerable Dreadlord, sent to hunt down one of Arethil's great and dastardly beasts.

They'd been on its trail for over a week, following the wake of its sport across the savanah. The beast would have been left alone had it not made the mistake of terrorizing one of the many Vel Anirian settlements to the north. Very little remained of Vel Torvu and its farming community aside from cinder and ash. What few witnesses survived the dragon's feast and sport were terrorized by nightmares of its fiendish appearance.

A great black monster, crowned by spikes, with eyes burning like the heart of demons. Taller than any house of building in Torvu. It devoured an entire heard of cattle in an evening, then did the same to a flock of sheep the next day. Ravenous, heathenous, treacherous.

The simple folk were often a bit dramatic, but Ralene had her doubts those last few words had been direct quotes.


Up at the break of dawn and on the move before the sun had yet to fill the sky, she rode just off the flank of Sagarus' mount, following him along the trade route that wound along the sloped grasslands. They would be nearing another town soon, one beyond the reach of Vel Anir but fresh on the path of the rampaging beast. She knew their instincts had been good when the smell of cinders and soot arrived on the morning breeze. As the pair of them reached the top of the hill and look down upon the valley below, Ralene frowned.

Her eyes scanned the scene before them: vast swathes of charred landscape, burned homes, and a great smouldering black ruin where the town should have been, "Fuck."

They were too late. The beast had already moved on.

 

[Sagarus]

Dragons. Bugger it all, but it had to be dragons, didn't it? Teeth big as claymores. Hide like steel. That sunny disposition that rivalled the fact they could melt a village with their breath. Which, incidentally, this particular dragon had done about four times already.

Five, if the smell of cinders and scorched stone reaching his nose was anything to go by. Lifting himself off the saddle to ease the stiffness in his joints, he grunted as they crested the short hill. Smoke rose like black pillars into the sky, forming a dark miasma that was not quite a cloud over the skeletal remains of the town.

"A day of riding we may yet catch it." He wasn't in a hurry. It wasn't like they could take to the air themselves. Though, perhaps they would need to look for other means of crossing the vast swathes of savannah the dragon seemed to be hunting.

Dearly, sorely, he wished he could fly.

Rolling his tongue over the front of his teeth, he eased the beast forward. Descending the hill, he continued to monitor the sky, passing his eyes over the ruins. Someone, somewhere, should still be alive. Even if they'd just been out hunting and arrived too late to help. Ahead of them the remains of a small merchant caravan sat like bleached bones in the desert, though the smell of cooked fat said there was more than bones there.

Guiding his mount around it, he nevertheless took in the scene. Sharp gouges where the wheels bit to quick get from the road. Bodies, charred, making to get out of the path of fire coming their way. The scorch marks said two passes - first south to north, and then back again.

"A cruel thing, beasts." Idle commentary, little else. The town was still a little ways ahead, it's stone foundations rising from the heat haze like an oasis on the horizon.

A few moments of silence and, with a deeply furrowed brow and a frown to match, eyes fixed ahead, he asked - "Are you taking the over or under?"

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

She was doing much the same as he - as any Dreadlord Initiate would have been trained to do - keeping her eyes on their surroundings. Though she lacked personal experience with dragons thus far in her considerably short life, Ralene had spent plenty of time reading up on them in the days before they departed. Every book, scroll, tome, journal of relevance she could get her hands on - adding to her collection of dragon knowledge and lore already researched for alchemical purposes.

Turns out, despite how much the world seemed to think it knew about dragons, there was a whole lot more that it didn't.

If she had to guess by the rough description offered from survivor tellings, they were dealing with a Greater Black Jaste - a particularly heinous breed that could grow to monstrous size if left unchecked. GBJ's were rare and not typically found this far south. They were more common to the steppes, if common was a word one could even use to describe their otherwise minimal population.

"A cruel thing, beasts."

Sagarus' voice pulled Ralene from her thoughts and her gaze from the western hills beyond.

"Are you taking the over or under?"

This brought her brow to furrow and lips to thin in mild confusion, "What?" She didn't know the man. Couldn't see he was bringing some dark sense of humor to the otherwise horrible circumstances they faced.

"Oh gods!"

But she wasn't given much time to hear an explanation as a desperate cry from the direction of the village entered the otherwise eerie silence of the valley.

An agonized cry followed, one of terrible anguish. Ralene shared a glance with Sagarus and then spurred her horse forward. Someone was alive in there, at the very least, which was one more than she expected.

 

[Sagarus]

His companion seemed to drift in thought as he did. It seemed more to due with awareness than a lack thereof, but unfortunately, mind-reading was not something he was skilled in. Perhaps some could skim the thoughts from a mind, but not he. No, he dabbled in arts that were more looked down upon. Summoning was joked of as 'borrowed strength' in polite company, and little more than thievery to those less predisposed to keeping their head attached.

But no one had ever made the mistake of accusing him of thievery twice. He'd made sure of that.

Inhaling again deeply through his nostrils, he added the smell of yet another burned town to memory. It was little different from most others, admittedly. Yet, he still wished to adjust to the smell as quickly as possible, lest he continue to grow nauseous.

At the sudden cry, his head snapped towards it like a doe to a branch caught underfoot, and then he dugs in his heels to spur the beast forward. Horsemanship was one of the many things they were taught as they often went afield, but he found it much nicer to walk when the opportunity arose.

The cobblestone streets here had likely been fine for an evening stroll. A shame they were coated in soot and ash. Easier to remove the bodies than get the black stain of fire's work out. "The over it is," he replied, wheeling the steed to a stop in what had likely once been the merchant's square.

She might want to keep going, but he was sure it had come from this area. Much further and they'd likely ride by whomever it was.

"Here." He said firmly, turning his head rather than the horse. Without the hooves clopping against the stone, perhaps he'd hear the smaller sounds of someone trapped beneath rubble. Yet, despite his every sense telling him they were close, he saw nothing more than what he'd already seen. Streets lined with death rather than busy smallfolk.

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

Ral brought her horse to circle through the remains of the square, pulling it to a sharp stop and dismounting with a wary glance around. She refrained from calling out - every instinct in her body told her not to. They had no assurance that the dragon was gone from this area and she didn't want to find out if hearing the cries of the wounded might bring it back for dessert. A hand on the reins to steady her horse, she held still with Sagarus to listen and watched the ears of his mount.

Gifted with magic powers and skills beyond imagination, neither of them had the hearing of an elf.

"Uh!" a stifled cry from a nearby burnt building, followed by the sounds of clattering wood and shifting debris, "Somebody..." faint and weak, it sounded like an elderly man.

Ral watched both the horses turn their heads in the direction of the home, and she moved swiftly to follow the sounds, "We're here," she spoke up but did not shout, "keep talking. We'll find you."

"...please help me...I - I can't move..."

Ducking in under the remnants of the collapsed roof to a house that only half stood in its cinders, she found her way over to a pile of timber that consisted of the building's main support beams. "Here," she said again, pushing the detritus of charred and broken timber out of the way. Ral spied a hand reaching out from beneath the frame of a bed pinned under the weight of the roof beams.

"Don't move," approaching with care, the Initiate took a moment to survey the damage. There were three beams in total laying over this portion of the house and two of them were wedged beneath the third. Ral looked around for Sagarus, "I'm going to need a hand," she called to him, "I'll move the beams if you can pull him free."

 

[Sagarus]

It was the muted words that drew him around, and he smoothly dismounted in a clatter of resettling plate. Limp wrist resting against the pommel of his sword,, he paused, taking stock of the square. Too many shadows in the smoke. If they were even a few hours later than the attack, bandits wouldn't be far behind. If they weren't here already.

The dead offered a rich bounty to those with few morals. Soot carried on the breeze, moving across the cobblestones like the blow of powder across the top of old, compacted snow. Wood popped and crackled, and she was already in the house.

A few long strides and he was at the home with her. His armored silhouette stood framed by the threshold, almost in defiance of the fact half the home was in ruins. "A moment," he grunted.

Part of him wished to perform a summoning now, to make sure the town was safe. It was the rubble that concerned him. Weakened as it was it could give at any moment. Taking one last look of the street and their steeds, who seemed unperturbed, he turned and crossed to Ralene and the old man beneath.

Once, this had likely been a shop. Perhaps one he'd lived in his entire life. Wares were sold downstairs, while he raised a family above. Yet here he was at ruin in his old age, likely without enough time to rebuild his life.

"If you think you can move them, then I'll get him free." Once the beams were moved, it would be a simple matter to pull the old man free. He was fairly certain Ralene had no healing magicks, and Sagarus didn't either.

"On three?" He offered, positioning himself where he could grip the man's arms when the pressure from the beams was easy.

 

[Samantha Black]

If you think you can move them...

Ralene raised her brows at her elder, wondering if the Proctors had just gotten lazy post-revolution and not bothered to give the Dreadlord a thorough rundown of her abilities. Seemed anymore that most of the Proctors felt their job was done once an Initiate left the Academy grounds - or perhaps that was how it always had been and she'd never noticed until now. Now that the once free-roaming monsters of the school had been leashed and heeled by the Revolution.

The Initiate said nothing as she turned from Sagarus with a slow breath and gauged her best approach to the beams. She was a student of the work smarter not harder doctrine, and if she could get the job done lifting the bottommost beam, it would save them time, effort, and likely the threat of too much noise that could draw in other unsavory problems. Ral ducked beneath the lowest beam, running diagonal to the bed and presently holding up the weight of the other two, and moved to wedge it into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

In a half kneel, she planted her hands, inhaled, and braced, then nodded to Sagarus.

One. Two -

Ral set her jaw and pressed her shoulder upwards into the charred timber with a low, controlled hiss of exhale. The beams creaked and then groaned as all three slowly began to lift. The remnants of the house whined in protest, raining debris of the scorched roof down upon them and rumbling like distant thunder. Ral lifted until she was at a full stand, boots planted shoulder length apart, and held firm while Sagarus extracted the old man.

 

[Sagarus]

He'd not intended to needle her. 'Intended' was the operative word. Staring at her and her raised brows, he carefully maintained the sort of bored, expectant look one might find in a parent waiting to see a trick. This game was not unfamiliar to him.

Taking a step back while she studied her upcoming test, he cast his eyes back outside. Unperturbed, the horses absently roamed the square without straying far from where they'd been dismounted. Training worked only so far. One did not fully cage an animal with some training.

She was moving, sunlight catching her armor and thus his eye. Stepping forward while she settled in beneath the beam, he readied himself. There was, still, an injured man beneath all this. A sharp crack told him the weakened wood wouldn't hold long as she hefted it on her shoulders, and he hurriedly pulled the man free.

They need not have bothered. He was in the same shape as the town. Clearly the flames had not reached his lungs given he could speak - and was alive. But skin was missing from his legs, and the man scarcely seemed to register that he should be feeling pain.

That could work in their favor. Keeping him distracted would prevent him seeing his legs.

Taking an immediate need, he settled onto one knee next to the man. "Citizen," he began, relief in his voice that they'd managed to save him. That limp rest was on his sword again. He'd need to sneak a grip on his dagger to put the man from his misery.

"The dragon that attacked this town... do you know where it went?"

Perhaps it was shock, or maybe it was the blood red eyes, but the man was mystified and unable to speak for the moment. Perhaps Ralene had simply scared him. Lifting all that weight wasn't easy. A peasant like this would have lived his whole life not seeing all he'd seen in the last few hours.

"Sir..." now he'd need to coax the man back to awareness, and the 'now,' "...the dragon?"

 

[Samantha Black]

With the man removed of his horrible grave beneath the rubble of his own home, Ral carefully settled the beams back into place with as much care as she'd given the initial lift. As little noise and as little mess as possible. If Sagarus was impressed she did not see nor did she intend to ask after - validation was not something she would seek from a stranger, even if the man was a seasoned and ranked Dreadlord. As he tended to the victim she moved back into the open beyond the building to keep a sharp eye on their surroundings.

Wouldn't do to be caught unawares and in the path of a dragon's diving firebreath.

The man, however, lay on the floor in waning alertness, mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak of the horrible tidings. A veritable fish out of water, gasping for relief from its misery.

"I tried ..." he gaped, head shifting from one side to the other, "tried to save her...."

Ralene stepped away, her boots pressing along soot-covered cobble and frigid gaze roving through the holocaust scene. Nothing had been spared. Not a single building stood untouched by flame. There was not a body or a beast to be seen beyond their own. Her careful circuit brought her to the edge of the small town, just a few layers beyond the market square, and it was there at the northern road leading out that she noticed a curious trail of something.

Her sole squelched in a puddle of thick, viscous black fluid that smelled of burnt hair and iron. When she stooped down to inspect, a curious sense of recognition dawned on her.


"I know where it went," Ralene appeared back in the doorway to the burnt home behind Sagarus, "it's trailing blood. Someone managed to wound it."

 

[Sagarus]

They weren't going to be getting anywhere with this man, unfortunately. Hearing Ralene walk off, he waited patiently as the man died and, deciding to spare him any prolonged agony, ended his life for him. Dagger cleaned by the time she returned, he was just standing from the now limp body.

Turning to her, wrist once more at the sword, he nodded once. "It's not too small a town. Perhaps they had a ballistae, or a mage had retired to join the guard here." Depending on the size of the blood trail, they could likely make a few guesses as to what had done the damage.

"Does it seem hobbled, or do you reckon it's more of a bleeding?" He didn't wish to chase the beast to the ends of the world, but he would if he had to.

"Which direction did it go?" He walked towards her purposefully, clearly intent on getting back onto his steed. He'd push her out of his way if needed, but she would likely take the hint. At the least, they had a lead. That was better than nothing.

 

[Samantha Black]

"Bleeding," she said as she moved to untie her horse, "and west, toward the mountains. Hard to tell if it's an old wound or we're further behind it than we thought. The blood wasn't very fresh."

Less fresh than the devastation of the town, at least. Seemed odd to her - had it reopened an old wound?

"The old man dead?" a distracted question and one she felt she knew the answer to, Ralene paused at the horse's side before mounting up, caught in a quandary between morals and duty, "Do you suppose...we should bury him?"

To her that seemed the right thing to do, but it greatly went against her instinct to keep chase and not lose their target.

 

[Sagarus]

"It's been fairly dry," he remarked. The air itself seemed to contain no moisture to speak of, but that could be related to the dragon. 'Dragons and Their Effects on Local Environments and Populations' wasn't a book he was familiar with. Doubtful it had even been written yet.

Perhaps when he was old, and graying, he could write something that boring. For now he contented himself with being a literal weapon.

"Dead," he confirmed with a firm nod. The thought was already gone from his mind, like he'd spilled a sack of grain and just decided he wasn't going to clean it up. He was halfway to the horse when she posed her question, and he had to make sure he'd heard her right.

It was an... honest question. Of a sort.

"Bury him if you must. I will give you a few minutes to do so, but will not wait longer. My recommendation would be to knock out a support beam - let him be buried by the home he died in." No one could accuse him of being a bleeding heart.

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

Dry? Ralene's eyes shifted upward toward the blue of the sky above, frowning in consideration. Had the blood merely been dry? Perhaps she'd assumed too much - it's not like dragon blood could be so similar to that of a deer, or an elf, or a human.

The Initiate nodded, deciding to keep her theories in check. She wasn't the elder here and the man had likely far more experience and expertise. Best that she report the facts only and mind her place - wasn't that the entire point of these missions? Or something.

Yet the words that followed about the burial struck a chord she'd not voice. The aberrant inhuman nature of the man, dismissing the sanctity of death in burial for something so mundane. Sure, the man would have died where he'd been stuck on his own, but they were here now, they'd pulled him from that horrible grave only to leave him in it? That didn't sit right with her, but it didn't stop her sense of duty to the mission from seeping in. There was still a hellion on the loose and that only meant more lives sundered beneath the roof of their own homes if they did not stop it.

Moral quandaries be damned.

Ralene pushed herself from her horse and stepped back to the house, over to where the dead man lay. She knelt there beside him, fixing his broken body as carefully as she could; legs straightened, arms cross at his chest, eyes closed.

"May you find peace with your loved ones and your Gods ... if you have any." She wasn't a religious person, but there was no telling if he was, and maybe a few words of benevolent intent just might help him take the journey to wherever his beliefs may lead. Holding there for a moment, a hand at the man's shoulder, the Initiate pushed herself to her feet and carried out the suggested burial: she shoved the supporting beam aside and stepped back as the roof collapsed inward upon the lifeless body. There, a final incantation sparked a flame against the unburnt wood.

Returning to her horse, she mounted up and circled it back round toward the direction she'd found the blood trail, "It's this way," and lead them off to follow the trail west.

 

[Sagarus]

He waited, stoic, though hardness was hinted at in his scarlet eyes. Turning his steed after hers, he kept his eyes on their surroundings. It wouldn't take long for scavengers to arrive, if they weren't here already. Often times they'd attack before realizing who they were robbing.

Unnecessary fights should be avoided. That was one of his biggest guiding tenets.

They were headed west, towards a low run of ridges that broke up the plains. Perhaps it's lair was in the shadowed valleys between. It would make sense. That didn't mean it sat well with him. It made sense like believing a rarely seen animal was nocturnal, or that a snake lived beneath a tarp because it only saw in the dark. Sound good? Absolutely. True?

Grunting to himself, he curled his lip distastefully at his train of thought. Focus was required, and as the road meandered out of the town - now with one more burning house - he found his attention straying to the splattered, coagulating blood along the road.

It banked slightly to the south, taking them off the beaten path. Thankfully, no woods. Just needed to avoid having the horses stuff their hooves into a hole. That'd ruin the hunt immediately.

"Not sure how fast dragon blood coagulates," he admitted, slowing to a stop near a splatter some distance off the road. Out here, they could see anyone approaching from leagues away.

His armored fingers broke the surface. Little more than mud existed beneath. "Still... seems like half a day is a good estimate. Should catch it by nightfall. Maybe we should bait it. There's sure to be a goat farm around here."

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

Some semblance of satisfaction settled into Ralene's gut when the admission to ignorance stung through the air. Well, at least she felt a bit better about her own ignorance, anyway. Dragons just weren't common enough and certainly not central to the study of Dreadlords. So if an elder Dreadlord such as Sagarus didn't know ...

The Initiate watched him in silence while he inspected the blood and made his estimate and traced the visible trail for as far as she could along the way.

"Goats..." Ral narrowed her eyes before looking back to him, "you really think goats will bait a dragon?"

Seemed to her dragons like the sport of the hunt more than simply...being fed. This dragon, at least, had made a show of it across a hundred miles at least.

 

[Sagarus]

"I think blood will," he replied. Working the coagulated blood between gloved fingers, he narrowed his eyes and took a deep inhalation through widened nostrils. Perhaps something would be on the air? No. Too much smoke and ash from the nearby town. It was even reaching out here.

Letting out a breath through pursed lips, he tracked his eyes forward. The trail continued, disappearing into the lengthening shadows.

"And I think if we get ahead of it, we can pick our arena. It's wounded... alert. Cornered beasts...." Any hunter would tell you to avoid them. Dragon? Well, he had healthy respect for the damage that beast could do. "Didn't eat much from the town either. It'll start scavenging before long."

His head tracked slowly, looking over his shoulder to her. Though his brows didn't move, his eyes remained expectant. He was interested in her take.

 

[Samantha Black]

It wasn't a poor idea given the circumstances and, frankly, the Initiate didn't have a better idea to offer aside from continuing their chase and hope the beast stopped for a rest at some point. If it was hungry, though...

"Getting ahead of it doesn't seem likely," she replied with her eyes turned back to the sky in the direction in which they presently tracked it, "but we are upwind. For now. That's the only favor we have."

If they could find enough sacrificial goats to gut.

"I say we head toward those mountains, escape the smell of the town, and try your plan."

 

[Sagarus]

Nostrils flaring, he reached down to brush his bloody fingertips into the dirt to help clean them off, and then nodded once. Taking his handholds, he remounted his horse and settled into the saddle again. Out of habit his hand lifted, finding it's way to the deck of cards at his hip, wondering if he'd need any help from his dubious collection of assistants. Hopefully not. They generally weren't fond of him.

Taking a moment to study the horizon and get his bearings, he figured they could make the foothills by nightfall. After that, they'd need some bait. For a moment, he contemplated smiling. The moment passed before he gave in, and then he gave the horse a nudge into a slow walk, angling towards the mountains.

"If I have my bearings," which was often not the case, "there should be a watering hole near the foothills."

Wetting his lips against the dry air, he realized, belatedly, the smoke was beginning to irritate his eyes. That wouldn't do.

"They've got herds out here - stocky things, lots of meat. Figure we gut one of those waterbeasts, maybe two. Can always cook a little for ourselves while we wait for the scaleback to show."

"How do you like your meat cooked?"

It was a boring topic of conversation; cooking and eating. Maybe he could bore her through this ride towards the nearby mountain range.

 

[Samantha Black]

The Initiate raised a brow at that last question, reining her horse to follow. Been a while since she'd fielded a question about her dietary tastes. Most taverns were too poor to care or provide anything other than what the cook dished out. But she recalled her stay at a particularly nice Inn where there had been quite the variety to choose from. She hadn't really known how to answer then and, frankly, she still didn't really know now.

"So long as it's edible," Ral replied at length, "never gave much thought to how."

Sagarus would know what it was like to grow up at the Academy. They were provided well enough for food, but they weren't served like nobles. Still, she offered him a wane half smirk, "Open to suggestions if you got any."

And that was about how the discussion rolled until they found those foothills.

Within short time, between the skills, experience, and knowledge of the two of them they had a nice little camp tucked away just uphill from a smallish lake. Sagarus managed to take down a waterbeast, and a big one at that. Claimed enough for their dinner, left the rest not far off-shore. The breeze had picked up slightly in the area, funneled in through the hillsides and valley. With any luck, it would carry the scent of the kill to the nostrils of their target.

"Do you suppose a dragon finds the scent of cooking meat as good as the fresh stuff?" Ral quipped at the man as she set about getting the fire going on the waiting kindling - once again putting college magic to use to set a spark and flame.

 

[Sagarus]

He wasn't sure how long they'd be here, but while she got the fire going, he felt a bit of nostalgia at setting up a lean-to for the first time in years. For a moment he was a decade younger, a fresh-faced academy sort like her, with little more than his curriculum and training to call upon. Now every scar felt like finishing a new textbook, and he'd already amassed a library.

Standing alongside the frame, he dragged a dirty sheet of canvas up and over. It didn't look like rain was coming, but who knew. Even if it was a little much the routine was comforting, and a damn sight better than worrying over how to slay a dragon - it would be a feat for them both, but he couldn't let that one. Better to play it cool. Everything could be killed. The only change was in the level of violence required.

"Never gave it thought," he admitted, some twine being used to secure the canvas against the breeze. Needing some dexterity his gauntlets were set on the ground so his fingers could work the knots without having to fight himself. "I know what I prefer, but I ain't a dragon," he let out a slow breath through pursed lips and then went around to the other side, watching as the kindling caught.

"Look at you, using that fancy book learning." Humor, mostly.

"Think if anything will get it's attention, it'll be the smell of those festering guts." It was a fact, rather than an attempt at gloating. Only a very insecure Dreadlord would gloat over something like a waterbeast. They could be dangerous, but on the list of worthy adversaries, it was low. "For the meat, I prefer it red. Cook a little longer and it'll get pink. Much longer than that and it's leather. Some people like to chew."

Satisfied with the knots he'd made, he turned to her and walked to the fire with his hands folded atop the pommel of his sword. "Can eat it raw though. Parasite might do you some good."

 

[Samantha Black]

Ral huffed a chuckle as he picked on her college magic. "I can light it just fine without magic but ... work smarter, not harder." A flint spark didn't take much longer, but it was less reliable than a magically controlled flame in the hand. At least the man had some humor to him, and not the overbearing kind.

Working with a seasoned Dreadlord had its value and its perks, but Ralene would be lying if she said she was never anxious about partnering with someone she didn't know. Having to deal with all the social quirks of her fellow Initiates was hard enough, let along graduating to fully-fledged adults whose quirks had evolved into full-blown flaws with no one around to help course-correct. She was lucky to have escaped that, for the most part, given the majority of her apprenticeship missions were with Captain Holstag and not Dreadlords.

Perhaps she was missing out, but she wouldn't change a thing. Holstag had taught her a great deal. Either way, Dreadlord Sagarus was proving himself an exception to the norm if the stories told by her fellow Initiates were anything to go by.

"Guess I prefer it with some color, then," Ralene remarked while the fire caught beneath the studious ministrations of magic from her palms, "eaten some roasts that chewed like boot leather ... tasted like it, too." And she did, in fact, know what boot leather tasted like. Not something she would proudly admit to.

"There's a city down on the Cortosi Coast called Andives that I stayed over on the way back from a mission. We put up in a cottage on the shore. The cook there made the most amazing beef stew. Never tasted anything like it before or since."

 

[Sagarus]

Sucking a breath in through his teeth, he lifted his chin and panned his eyes around the surrounding peaks and hillsides. This was awkward for them both, he knew. Tasked to kill a dragon with a stranger. Perhaps the only thing more embarrassing for all involved was any sort of romantic first. It was easier for him to kill than understand people but here they were.

"Once you've sunk your teeth into a bit everything else is just bad memories."

Inhaling slowly, he looked to her again, eyes narrowing in apparent suspicion. The look passed like the breeze ruffling his graying hair and sideburns.

"Quite puzzling that a coastal town would remind you of beef stew. Were I the suspicious sort I might think it... fishy." Naturally, he was the suspicious short, but that wasn't the joke.

A deep roar echoed from over the mountains, and his head turned lazily as if being told to check on a deer at the edge of a clearing. "If we're lucky, perhaps that's our guest."

 

[Samantha Black]

"Give me a little credit, won't ya?" Ralene snorted at his quip, "I know the difference between beef and fish. They raised cattle in the fields just inland-"

A roar bellowed through the thicket of their little wooded camp, cutting her off quite cleanly at the quick. She stood from the fireside, suddenly overcome with a healthy awareness of just how little cover the woods here could provide them from a dragon's fury. Trial by fire, as it were.

"If we're not," she remarked, "we've lured in every other beast this side of the range." The Initiate glanced to the Dreadlord, and then her gaze fell down to the fire she'd just managed to set, wondering if perhaps it might be better to snuff it out now. Holding still to listen carefully, she waited for another roar to sound, but none did. Her eyes panned around in the direction from where she believed it to come, "There's something in the woods, further up the hills," and lifted a hand to point, "too small to be our dragon."

 

[Sagarus]

Unperturbed, he continued to stand like a thoughtful general surveying the battlefield of the morning. The woods may provide some cover, if only when they inevitably burst into flames. At that point, it was a sprint, and who knew if they or the wounded dragon would win.

"Well, once you set the table it's rude to turn away guests."

Taking a few strides towards the edge of the hill he cast his bloody gaze onto the corpse below. It lay, for the moment, undisturbed, though he wondered if perhaps he was starting to catch the stink of it on the air.

"Some manner of prey beast I'm sure." A hand was lifted to gesture vaguely, and then, with a sigh, he turned to go back to the lean-to. His gauntlets still lay there, and it was clearly time to put them on. The roar repeated itself again, and he had to admit, she had good ears. It was a little too small to be the dragon, but only just. "Or... a mountain troll."

Sighing, he slid his gauntlets into place and then secured them. "Fought one before?" Even now his tone scarcely lifted beyond bored, like he was discussing going fishing at the large pond below.

"Ugly bastards," he began, in the same instant he could hear a trunk splinter, audibly, as something large pushed it over. Birds took cacophonous flight as they realized the disruption headed their way. "Sort of like the local drunk the morning after losing a fight. " Satisfied he was ready, he flashed her a murderous smile that didn't even begin to reach his eyes.

 

[Samantha Black]

The Initiate's expression deadpanned over her amusement of the older Dreadlord, appreciating the dryness of his approach to their current predicament. It belied experience, she thought (and somewhat hoped given her own lack thereof in this type of setting), and his calmness allowed her own self to keep a level head.

Especially when he asked about fighting a mountain troll.

Ral raised her brows at him and idly kicked dirt over her freshly started fire, "That so?" she nudged the new logs off to the side before the embers could catch them - though it occured to her moments later that this might not make any difference if their quarry arrived and decided to set fire to the entire forest.

She looked up just in time to see the smile and was briefly reminded of Charon at the Academy. Ral offered him a cool smirk in return and moved to pick up and don her own discarded armor pieces.

"I'll loose the horses then," as she moved into the trees, "can't have them getting caught up in the brawl."

Just in time, too, as she tied up the reins of her horse to the breastcollar and pointed it off to follow the southern crawl of the foothills, she heard the raucous grunting call of a large brown bear. Weren't quite the size of a Nordenfiir, but it was pretty damn big so far as bears went.

"Never fought one of them either," she admitted to Sagarus as she returned to the camp, reaching for the dagger at her back, "what are they like?"