Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (152/?)

The Nexus. Near the Geographic Center of the North Rythian Forests. Just Outside the Dragon’s Lair. Local Time: 2045 Hours.

Thalmin

It began with a ripple.

Then, a gentle but pathetic nudge.

It was as if my aura was being prodded with a feather, tugged with velvet gloves, all with the strength and ferocity of a malnourished runt.

I’d scarcely even understood what the shatorealmer was attempting, until he finally started to get ‘serious’.

At which point, I couldn’t help but to break out into a grin, crossing my arms with a confidence my uncle would’ve disapproved of.

The would-be mercenary was attempting a scry, poking, prodding, and nudging at the local manastreams in a vain attempt at assessing exactly who and what it was they were up against.

It took every ounce of restraint I had to simply not overwhelm this pathetic excuse of a Nexian collaborator. It required a willful attempt at recognizing my uncle’s stern words… specifically following the incident at the Portside Tavern, not to simply stun, incapacitate, or outright blind the chosen one’s manasense; if only to maintain the intelligence advantage. To ensure that we could dictate the narrative of this encounter.

Revealing our hand would have locked us into an awkward position, but then again… there was a high likelihood these mercenaries would’ve recognized me all the same.

It all depended on just how well-read they were… which was difficult to say based on their superficial likeness alone..

The adventurers in Elaseer had the benefit of proximity — and by extension, familiarity — of all things adjacent.

But I knew not just how far this particular mercenary outfit was familiar in said matters.

Regardless, Uncle’s lessons were pertinent all the same.

It was best to not show one’s hand, at least not in the opening moves of a battle.

My only wish was for Emma to have been able to witness this futility, to truly bear witness to the non-threats we faced.

Or at least, those were my opening thoughts, up until the elf finally entered the fray.

His scries… were far more effective.

Still a ways away from our contemporaries back in the Academy, but leagues above the pathetic half-hearted proddings of the shatorealmer.

I actually had to make an effort to conceal my aura this time around. The results of which… proved to be enough to garner a raise of a brow from the otherwise jester-faced captain.

“I will only say this once more…” He spoke with a growing suspicion. “Exactly who are you, and why are you here?”

There was no more use in delaying the inevitable.

Just as there was no more use in playing hide the bandana from the hand fate had dealt us.

“Heh. That first question’s smart, I’ll give ya that.” I responded with a gruffer twang in my cadence, standing up to match… and then exceed the elf’s height. “But that second question?” I paused, letting out a series of gravelly ‘tsks’ in the process. “Not so much, friend. Not so much.” 

Then tension in the air spiked to an unbearable degree, so much so that the Shatorealmer’s posture stiffened, their eyes peering nervously towards the Captain’s.

“Oh? Is that so?” The Captain responded in that annoyingly playful sing-song cadence, each word bouncing back and forth as if ready to break into an all-out sing-along.

“‘Dunno, don’t much care, ‘cause that’s yer problem. Thing is, you know the why of things.” I paused, pointing bluntly towards the dragon’s lair, before deftly shifting a thumb towards my armored chest. “So the question now becomes — do you really wanna know the who?”

Another silence descended on the scene, interrupted only by the whinnying of Aquastride, and a solid gulp from the Shatorealmer.

The elf, meanwhile — and very much to his credit — remained stone-faced; bearing only the slightest of amused expressions as he finally let out a disquieting sigh following a good five seconds of contemplation.

“‘Course I do.” He responded, dropping a word as he flip flopped between High Nexian and a bastardized ‘merc-speak’ pidgin. “Because either ‘yer a real problem, or a bunch’a idiots. The forest is off limits, if you haven’t heard. So tell me… who sent you? Or are you dumb enough to risk crown penalties for your own glory?”

“Who says it can’t be both?” I responded cryptically, putting all cards into the bluff as I channeled in elements of my sister’s… and admittedly — Ilunor’s penchant for theatrics.

This finally tripped something in the elf’s head, as his eyes narrowed, his face grew stoic, and his stance tightened.

The Shatorealmer’s eyes shot warily back and forth between us, their anxiety reaching a fever pitch, prompting me to ready a battle stance—

“Ha… BWAhaHAHAHAHAHAH!”

—but not before the elf could completely defuse the situation with a boisterous, surprisingly earnest laugh.

“Oh… oh I’ve missed talking to a fellow raconteur!” He beamed, lifting a gloved hand to wipe away a single forceful tear. “Quite daring I should say, to be pulling such a stunt with a clearly powerful stranger at that…” He paused to gesture towards himself and the mercenary party busying about closer to the dragon’s lair. “Which means that regardless of whether you are fools or truly… problems, I should be rid of you post-haste.” He grinned toothily, before raising a single hand towards us.

I braced for a strike, and so did Emma, however instead of any fire, lightning, or telekinetics… nothing came.

“And what better way to be rid of potential competition, than to simply join forces under the same cause?” The elf began with a genuine, surprisingly amicable tone of voice. “Listen stranger, I am not what most would describe as a… charitable man. But what I am is a man who recognizes what needs to be done to increase the odds of a job well done. And right now? I’m seeing a path where all of us can win. You’re here for the dragon, that much is clear. But what exactly are you here for? The gold reward? The title of dragon-slayer? The dragon itself…?” He paused menacing at that latter line, before quickly moving forward. “Or perhaps something else entirely?”

“Nothing that you’re clearly here for, it seems.” I offered bluntly. “To put it simply, we’re here to harvest its crystals. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

“Which means that our interests do not conflict.” The Captain remarked thoughtfully, his hand still outstretched. “In fact, it aligns quite well if you ask me… because we both desire something from this unsightly beast. You — a poacher’s trinket. And I — the whole kit and caboodle. So with that being said, why don’t we make a deal. Two — clearly well-equipped and talented hands in temporary service over the duration of this venture — for some trivial amethyst shards.”

I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms tighter, before letting out a disinterested huff. “And if I refuse?”

“You won’t gain access to the dragon.” The Captain replied bluntly, but civilly. Though his next few words quickly dipped into that typical Nexian venom. “And I will have no qualms with reporting you and your… golem compatriot there to the appropriate authorities.” 

That ultimatum hung in the air for just over a second, before I reached a hand out, but stopped just short of reach. “We dictate our own actions, no matter how involved or distant.”

“Yes yes yes. Full autonomy.” The Captain acquiesced, as we both gripped hands with a respective second’s hesitation. “Moreover, if anyone asks, I will simply mention I met two freelancers on the way to the cave. It will be as if you were never here.” 

=====

Emma

I didn’t like this guy; not one bit.

This was despite him doing ‘everything right’.

The red flags weren’t so red when it came to him, especially as he’d reacted… surprisingly rationally to the back and forths with Thalmin.

He’d confronted us as any merc boss would, escalated the interaction as the situation demanded, and even offered an off-ramp in the form of an acceptable compromise; de-escalating instead of going full murder-hobo as most Castles and Wyverns player parties would have done.

The only real downside to his actions thus far was his coercion tactics, doubling down on his superior leverage — by hammering home how co-operation… under his purview, was the only way for us to accomplish our objectives.

Though honestly, that was pretty tame in the grand scheme of Nexian assholery.

Even so, there was something about the guy that just didn’t sit right with me. But maybe that was just my Nexian bias speaking. This whole adventure did prove that there were ‘decent’ Nexians out there, Lord L’Sips being one of them. Maybe I just needed to give this guy a chance?

Whatever the case was, it was too late to back out now. 

What’s more, I trusted Thalmin’s lead on this one. He knew the merc world way better than I, so maybe he was seeing something I wasn’t. That, or he understood that this was our best shot at getting to the dragon given the developments. Whether or not he trusted the guy was another matter entirely, though it wasn’t as if he wasn’t trying to peel back the guy’s layers. It was clear that the banter was a way for him to poke and prod at the Captain, as much as he was prodding at us.

Speaking of which…

“I don’t suppose you have a name with which to offer me?” The elf inquired candidly. “Don’t worry, it’s not going in a ledger or what-have-you, I’d just like to know what to call you is all. Wouldn’t want to be shouting ‘lupinor mercenary’ for the upteenth time during a dance with dragons is all.” He promptly added, though that latter part was mumbled out in mild annoyance. 

“My adventuring name is Dreadwolf. Dreadwolf Steelpaw. Though most know me by my full title, Dreadwolf the Dire.” Thalmin responded convincingly.

So convincingly in fact that I couldn’t help but to cackle hard in my armor, both the EVI and my own irises making certain to have muted all external speakers before then. 

Are you serious right now, Thalmin? I mouthed out, as I tried my best not to leak anything through body language.

“And the… gole—”

“A name for a name, good sir.” Thalmin cut the man off, prompting him to clear his throat in response.

“My apologies.” He forced out through gritted teeth, before composing himself. “My name is Captain Ignalius the Indomitable, Breaker of the Hall of Coin, and Silencer of the Guilds.” 

“Well met, Captain Ignalius.” Thalmin dipped his head, bowing in respect, which seemed to perk the man’s spirits up to no end.

Ah. So he was that sorta guy. Got it.

“Now then, about that golem of yours.” He spoke curiously, nodding his head in my direction. “Quite a frivolous display of wealth… might I ask how you acquired it?”

“A dungeon.” Thalmin responded plainly. “I was hired to clear out a particularly nasty forest’s dungeon, part of a clearing team for His Eternal Majesty’s cull order. Just so happens that I got stuck in a vault of artifacts, fought my way through, and claimed this as my own.” He gestured to both me and the V4c. “To the victor go the spoils as they say, eh?”

“Ahhhh cull orders.” Ignalius spoke once again in that sing-song voice. “Oh how I love to hate such ventures. Though, if you ask me, it is quite eye opening just how large and utterly labyrinthian these forests can make their dungeons.”

“Really goes to show just how they hoard their offerings, huh?”

“Yes, quite. Just like dragons in a sense… it’s a wonder why we haven’t gotten rid of these vestiges of a bygone era yet…” 

My mind perked up at the implications on offer here, as my imagination raced to fill the gap of the offerings, the forest’s ‘dungeons’, the the possibilities of an infinitely replenishing ecosystem of dungeons that took on offerings as loot—

I forced myself to stop.

Now wasn’t the time.

I had to keep focus.

“So… breaker of the hall of coin. What’d you do to get that name? And exactly whose hall of coin did you break if I may ask?” Thalmin continued the small talk.

However, before Ignalius could give an answer, we’d arrived at the cave entrance.

At which point, things quickly accelerated.

Teams of mercs hailing from at least five different species ran about the place, organized and efficient, taking on roles not too dissimilar to mining and construction crews as they began unpacking and unfurling trinket after magical trinket; all in an effort to construct what appeared to be a tighter, denser version of the netting used earlier by the two drake riders.

The mining aspect of the operation took center stage however, as groups of kobolds and baxi gathered together to unload hundreds of iridescent glass tubes — each swirling with a rippling rainbow effect. From there, they began moving them to what I could only describe as a cross between a pinball machine and a water cooler, as vial upon vial were loaded and agitated into a dispenser — their mana either drained or taken wholesale by teams of elves armed with the same gauntlets as the shatorealmer.

Following which, and after a brief back and forth between Ignalius and the ‘mining’ team leader, they began drilling.

Or more specifically, they began punching into the sheer rockface of the dragon’s lair.

THOOOMF-SHKK!

THOOMF-SHKK!

THOOOOMF-SHKK!

Three satyrs under the watchful gaze of the Shatorealmer began punching into the base of the rockface in staggered, but rhythmic motions.

Meanwhile, the ‘knitting’ crew continued their crocheting, creating what was in effect a dragon-sized net that hummed against the EVI’s new wand sensors.

=====

Thalmin

“So, what’s the plan?” I inquired bluntly. 

“Straight to the point now are we?” Ignalius responded coyly. 

“I prefer my pleasantries over ale and campfire, not in front of a dragon’s den.” I reiterated.

The elf’s features once again softened, as if grateful I’d passed some sort of test of character.

“Just as you should.” He nodded slowly. “Look, Dreadwolf. I get it. You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you. It’s in our line of work. But if we’re going to fight a dragon, we’ve gotta at least have some trust, just for this one job.” His features soon darkened as he addressed his next points. “I’ve lost a lot of men today. Good men, good women. Now I’m not gonna say that they were all saints. I myself have done a thing or two I’m not proud of. But we all came here for the same reason.”

“Gold.” I interjected.

“That I do not deny.” He nodded. “But if it were just about the gold, I doubt we’d have come. Because it’s one thing to earn gold, it’s another to live to see the next day to spend it.” He spoke calmly. “The others who came before us were forced by honor and duty. But us mercs? We get to choose our battles. So what does it say when a company chooses a job with a near guarantee of death?”

“Either desperation, or some misguided foolishness I suppose.”

“If you were a cynic or a realist, yes… but there’s more to life than the stories of the foolhardy and desperate.” He countered, maintaining eye contact all the while. “I can tell you’re good people, Dreadwolf. Honest people, just like the people we’re trying to save. So whatever your story is, let’s just put that aside so that right here, right now, we can save those lives.”

“Where I come from, Captain… trust is earned through action, not a heartfelt speech.” I spoke sternly, planting my foot down with neither a growl nor grumble. “But I appreciate the sentiments. So with that being said, let’s cut to the specifics. I’m assuming we’ll be filling in for those souls you lost, correct?”

“Observant.” Ignalius acknowledged solemnly. “But yes, the men I lost were some of my best forward scouts, so you’ll be filling in their shoes. Now, about that plan… over here is a legendary enchanted artifact, a net capable of ensnaring and incapacitating even dragons.” He pointed at the recently-completed net. “We will be deploying it at the mouth of the cave… or shall I say, the soon-to-be mouth of an otherwise sealed-off cavern.” He announced proudly. “The artifact is invisible until triggered, so your job is to enter the dragon’s lair, and simply route it to said opening!” 

“So bait.” I surmised with a growl.

“I can see why you might think so, but I assure you this is nothing of the sort. You see, bait is most often defenseless and without agency. You… and your golem, will be acting more like shepherds, corralling the beast where we need it to go, and using whatever means and abilities you deem fit to accomplish said goals.”

I narrowed my eyes at the man, who proved both increasingly forthright, yet somehow squirmy at the same time.

“And if we kill the beast in the process?” I drilled.

To which the man, surprisingly, merely shrugged. “If it must be done, then so be it. All for the safety of the land, after all.” 

“Hmmph.” Was my only response, following which, I turned to Emma and nodded. “Right then, how long until the front gates are open?”

=====

The Nexus. Near the Geographic Center of the North Rythian Forests. Just Outside the Dragon’s Lair. Local Time: 2130 Hours.

Emma

We stood ready. Or more accurately, we sat ready atop of our respective mounts, despite not really feeling it.

With about ten of Ignalius’ men flanking either side of us, we were poised to enter the moment the last ‘driller’ turned to face us all.

“This’ll be the last crack, so get ready!” The satyr warned, before suddenly—

THOOOOMF-SHKK-CRAASSHHHHHHH!

—the entire rockface gave way to a sizable opening.

Tons upon tons of rock shattered into neat, pre-cut diamond patterns, sliding neatly sideways in a ridiculously theatric fashion.

Though just as theatric was the dark void that loomed within.

But thankfully… Thalmin and I both had solutions for this expected encumbrance.

[NVG STATUS: ACTIVE]

Ignalius' compatriots, meanwhile, seemed to have to make do with torches; albeit admittedly enchanted ones that more resembled flashlights.

With hand motions courtesy of the scouting team’s leader, we all moved in, the motley crew of elves, baxi, and satyrs following a dwarf’s careful commands as they entered what the EVI was quickly rendering before my HUD-filled eyes.

What stood before me… made me briefly understand what it was cave divers risked their lives for in their death-defying adventures. Brief, being the operative word here. Because in front of me was a cavern so… cavernous, that it at first reminded me of some sort of a massive amphitheatre, or the inside of a silo, or even some sort of a reactor with how many stalactites poked down from the ceiling — resembling control rods in varying states of descent.

There was an undeniable natural beauty to this place, and were I a rock nerd or geologist, I bet I’d be absolutely out of my mind at the whole scene.

Alas, this wasn’t a sight seeing trip, as the EVI was quick to remind me.

We rode in slowly, trailing behind the forward group, as visible elements of the cave were quickly being mapped and charted.

The entrance we started off from quickly descended into a sharp decline down into the depths of said ‘amphitheater’, resembling the grand foyer to some subterranean hall. 

From there, we arrived at a round cavernous clearing, with no obstructions all the way up to the stalactite-lined roof of the cave.

Though it was here that we were met with our first real challenge.

“‘Ey chief? Which way do we go from here?” A particularly skittish baxi questioned, her tail curling up around her legs, and her ears flat against her skull.

“I count three tunnels—” The dwarf began.

“Four.” Only for Thalmin to interrupt him, confirming that he truly was on my level, at least when it came to sensors.

“There’s one half-hidden behind a pile of loose stone over there.” He gestured, much to the dwarf’s annoyance.

“Right right, four’s four.” He acknowledged under a disparaging breath. “Alright then lads, we’ll split up into three parties—”

“No.” Thalmin urged. “Splitting up — as a friend once so colorfully described — is the worst thing you can do in these situations. Moreover, I think that that—” He paused, pointing to the half-obstructed entrance. “—is probably where we should be looking.”

“That?!” The dwarf guffawed. “Tell me, Dreadwolf… would you have my men digging around rubble all night? I’ll have you know we’re not some second-rate manual laborers!” He bellowed out, garnering a series of nods and nervous affirmations from the group.

“Do you want to get out of here alive or not?” Thalmin countered bluntly.

The reactions from the men themselves was telling, as each looked warily around for a flag to rally to.

But that flag, unfortunately, proved to be too stubborn to bend.

“Do as you will, freelancers. My men and I will be searching through the more obvious passages.” The dwarf spat back stubbornly. 

“Amethyst dragons thrive in uncompromising terrain. Or did you forget we had to blow a hole to get into its—”

“Enough!” The dwarf interjected. “Enough. There’s a reason why the Captain assigned me to the cave scouting party, and it’s my dwarven heritage, friend. These caves are like home to me, and as with any cave, every path will eventually converge upon each other. You can waste your time dilly-dallying in front of that blocked off passage. Meanwhile, we’ll sneak at it from behind in the meanwhile.”

“Dwarven heritage, psshht. Not a lick of subterranean twang in that topside dwelling accent.” Thalmin grumbled as he began scattering his men in groups through the three passages. “No self-respecting dwarf would refuse an opportunity to dig into unknown tunnels as well… what a complete mockery of—”

“Thalmin.” I whispered, or more accurately, as I communicated subtly through the little communicator wrapped around his perky triangular ears. 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s close.” I spoke warily. “Real close.”

=====

Dragon’s Lair. ‘West’ Wing. Local Time: 2145 Hours.

Uthril the Daring

The boss had ordered us to split up between the three passages.

Fine by me.

All we had to do was run after all.

And if there was one thing Uthril was good at, it was—

Ggrrrr…

“Erm, Lipo, you hungry or somethin?” I turned to my Satyr partner, only to find him frozen in place.

“Erm, Lipo? You alright there bud—”

“Run.” He whispered out under a stuttered breath.

“Eh? Lipo, buddy, you aren’t even pointing your torch at the dark—”

I lifted my torch to shine behind Lipo’s ear, hoping to find just more bare rock—

…

But what I saw instead was my own shocked expression, reflected back at me through a single slitted eye.

My whole body ran cold.

Then, I screamed.

“RUUUUUUUU—”

CHOMP-CRUNCH!

=====

Dragon’s Lair. ‘North’ Wing. Local Time: 2147 Hours.

Ganthril the Disparaging

“And then I said: oh no no no, this cheese is far too intense for me! Because frankly, I couldn’t care less for the stinky ones. Now hard ones, yeah, that’s much better. Way less funky and much more—”

“Ganthril, shut up for a mo…” The elf moved to close my maw shut, causing me to jump back, slapping his hand away.

“What the hell, Arlin? Don’t you dare fucking touch—”

“I said, shut the fuck up!” Arlin seethed, as he began shining his flashlight in all directions. “I thought I heard something.”

“Something like what, Arlin? Oh, let’s hear it again for the superior elven ears and your ability to sense way, way more than my poor earless head ever coul—”

Crunch.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

…

My heart stopped, as my eyes shot every which way, peering back and forth at the long and uninterrupted passage, but finding nothing.

“W-where the fuck is that coming from?!” I shouted, to which Arlin could only respond with a face of a dead man.

“The walls. It’s coming through the wa—”

CRASH!

SNNAAARRLLLLLLL!

CHOMP!

=====

Dragon’s Lair. ‘South’ Wing. Local Time: 2150 Hours.

Greer the Brave

“Oh, let’s start digging through this blocked off tunnel. Heh, who does he think he is? Telling a dwarf how to navigate through caves?!” I chuckled boisterously, turning back to see my small troupe nodding in equal measures.

“Yeah, the way I see it, Dreadwolf’s just some rich kid playing adventurer. I give him two minutes before he folds. Too scared to be alone in the dark no doubt. He’s probably crying up a storm now while clinging to his little golem bodyguard!” My second in command scoffed.

However, no sooner were those words uttered did our new greenhorn Baxi raise her tongue. “E-er, ss-sirs, I think I hear—”

“What’s that? Speak up! Can’t hear ya over yer trembling tail!” I shouted back boisterously.

“I think I hear—”

“Louder, girl!”

“I THINK I HEAR SOMETHING COMING, SIR!” She yelled out, her eyes filled with genuine fear.

Though frankly, all I saw was yet another annoying anxiety-ridden episode of the nerves.

“Well I don’t hear nothin.” I shrugged. “Do you, Puri?”

“Nah, boss. Must’ve been the wind or somethin—”

“There is no wind in caves!” The Baxi interjected, her voice growing more wary by the second. “I… I can’t stay here, I can feel it coming! You have to believe me! The Captain chose me for a reason, I can feel things—”

“Yeah, sure you do.” I turned to dismiss her, before shooing her away. “Get lost then, but know I’ll dock yer pay if you—”

The Baxi had turned heel and sped off before I could finish my sentence.

“Ugh. These greenhorns are somethin’ else, Puri. Honestly, I’m considering an early retirement because of this crap…” I groaned in frustration, only to be met with an uncharacteristic silence.

“Puri? Ya good, there?” I turned back, only to find the elf standing completely still while staring down an off-shoot corridor. “Whatcha find down the—”

I stopped mid stride as my boots squelched against a liquid oozing across the floor.

I raised my axe, and with another hand, shot off a beam of light into the dark passage Puri was facing.

SNORT!

CRUNCH CRUNCH!

PTHOOOOTH!

Clink! Clink!

My eyes widened in disbelief, then horror, at the gear the beast had spat in front of both me and Puri.

Chestplates, swords, daggers, and even coin.

All… bearing the Captain’s insignia.

“Damn you—!”

CHOMP!

CRUNCH!

=====

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer’. Local Time: 2153 Hours.

Katiya the Coward

I ran.

I ran faster than I ever did in my life.

Faster than when I fled the family farm.

Faster than when I fled that burning ship.

Faster than when I’d met the Duke, Duchess, and—

THWUMP!

I ran face first into dreadwolf. My heart racing as I turned up to face what was potentially the child of a noble who could’ve so easily also be rid of me as easily as—

“Whoah whoah whoah. What’s going on?” The lupinor questioned.

“I— I—. There was! Ah. Ahhhhh! DRAGON! DRAGON COMING! THE DRAGON’S COMING, SER DREADWOLF!” I screamed.

“Okay.” Was Dreadwolf’s only reply, as he nodded once towards his golem, who’d since produced what I could only describe as a modified lance.

“This is going to be tricky…” Dreadwolf sighed out, turning to his fancy pocket clock. “The team topside needs about five more minutes to assemble the trap. How far did you say this dragon was—”

ROOOOOAAAAAAAARRRR!!!

“Nevermind. Alright, we’ll have to buy time, then we’ll head on out. So for now…” Dreadwolf paused, moving up to mount his terrifying kelpie, before lending a hand down towards me. “... you’re riding with me.”

I felt my heart pound hard against my chest, either out of shock, fear, or something else entirely.

But before I could process anything—

CRASH!

ROOOOOAAAAAAAARRRR!!!

—the dragon arrived.

“Wrap your arms around my waist. This is going to be a bumpy ride.” He commanded, and I obliged without hesitation.

From there, I could only watch as chaos incarnate unfolded.

The lupinor-golem pair worked in tandem, starting slowly at first by encircling the dragon that’d found itself in the middle of the cavern.

Slowly, methodically, and unnervingly, they traced a circle around the dragon; the gem-encrusted creature clearly taking the time to decide who to go for first.

Seconds swung by slowly, until—

ROOOOAAAAAARRRR!

—the dragon went for the golem first.

What unfolded next was a true dance of the dragons, as the dragon surged forwards… only to be thwarted by two opposing elements.

The element of speed at the whirring of the golem’s bitreader, and the element of surprise at the daring attacks by Dreadwolf’s kelpie.

Tendrils of seaweed lashed out at the dragon, reaching for one of its limbs as it bound and tugged, forcing the creature to stumble in its step resulting in it tumbling head over heels into one of the passageways.

Echoes of its crash echoed for a second, then another, before as abruptly as a reprieve had settled was the peace shattered by another charge towards the golem.

This time, the kelpie took initiative, trailing path upon path of watery grime across the smooth rock surfaces of the cave floor, clearly in an attempt to trip the dragon in some way…

Though despite the kelpie’s best efforts, this effort failed, as the dragon surged forwards, chasing the golem left, right, and center, all across the cave until they were finally once again facing each other down at opposite ends of the cavern.

The kelpie stood still, as Dreadwolf seemed to utter some unknown commands to his ‘expensive bodyguard’.

At which point, I watched as the bitreader surged forwards, rushing head-on towards the dragon, lance firmly positioned forward as if ready to joust the beast.

Then, at the last possible second, the golem surged leftwards, dodging a headbut from the beast, as it soon became clear its target wasn’t the beast at all… but a rocky ramp with which to—

“NOW!” Dreadwolf yelled, the kelpie’s tendrils shooting to once again distract the dragon, allowing for the golem to ramp off that rocky outcropping, flying high into the air… before landing  on the dragon itself.

From there, the golem swooshed its bitreader sideways, as if to stop and gain purchase, and then abruptly abandoning it mid-stride. 

What happened next… was something no one would ever believe, as the golem ran forwards, its heels gripping into the dragon’s back even as it started to sway back and forth, until finally… it leaped towards an amethyst-rich patch of its back, grabbing what appeared to be an artifice lodged firmly within.

“Got it?!” Dreadwolf yelled, receiving a nod but not much else from the golem as it tried its darndest to remain on top of the raging beast.

“Right, it’s time we go—”

ROOOAAAAARRRRR!

The dragon bellowed out once more, now racing for the cave entrance.

“HOLD ON!”

=====

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer’ en Route to Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2159 Hours.

Emma

“HOLD ON!” Thalmin yelled, as I did everything possible and within my power to keep myself lodged on the dragon’s back.

I crawled forwards, gripping crystal after crystal for purchase until I finally found myself perched near the nape of its neck, sitting in what I could only describe in a perfect dragon rider’s position… though without any of the control that should’ve naturally come with it.

It was at that point that I knew was just there for the ride, as I gripped onto two crystals firmly, doing everything in my power not to let go, until finally—

“THERE IT IS, RELEASE, RELEASE!” I heard Ignalius yelling, as I realized this was my stop.

Without a second’s hesitation, I promptly let go, landing with two feet and a fisted thump against the rock in what could only be described as my third superhero pose of the night.

The first, being the sideways motorcycle slide down the dragon’s back, was a solid moment I’d saved for posterity. Though the second — the sand worm climb — was up for debate.

It took a moment for me to reorient myself, and a second more for the EVI to assess the extent of any injuries or damage sustained.

[All systems nominal.]

Following which, I finally breathed a sigh of relief, as I leaned against the cave entrance; awaiting the return of both the V4c and Thalmin.

However, I wouldn’t let an opportunity such as this slip me by, as I walked confidently towards the now-downed and wrapped dragon, if only to chastise it with a few choice words.

“Bad, dragon!” I yelled under a muted mic.

=====

Dragon’s Lair. Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2159 Hours.

Thalmin

I’d made sure to grab the spoils of Emma’s trevails. 

One, being the bitreader, and the other… being a sizable crystal she’d managed to snap off the beast on her ride to the cave entrance.

A bit of assurance, in case the Captain leaves us high and dry. I thought to myself, as I concluded the mission with a hop off of Aquastride, and a hand to help the poor Baxi girl down from the passenger seat.

CLAP! 

CLAP!

CLAP!

“A wondrous performance! Truly!” Ignalius beamed out, clasping his hands while gesturing towards the squirming and silent dragon. “Your golem is truly something else, Dreadwolf. Quite a remarkable find! Though yourself, having survived an encounter with a dragon? My my my, I think we have a new Dragon-tier adventurer on our hands!” 

“A job’s a job, Captain.” I sighed out in exhaustion. “Now comes your end of the bargain.” 

“Oh, of course.” The elf acknowledged, as he turned to the Shatorealmer, who promptly snapped a crystal from the incapacitated dragon, before throwing it in my direction.

“If ya want more, give me some time, I’m still securing the catch.” He spoke.

I felt a pang of relief washing over me as I just about lowered my guard near the end of this whole exchange; though one eye remained vigilant, watching as Ignalius slowly but surely shuffled his way towards his awaiting pegasi at the foot of the hill.

“You know… I did say that I met two freelancers — one if you don’t count the golem — along this journey.” He began in his signature singsong voice, almost playfully so. “I didn’t mention whether or not they survived the dragon encounter.” He quickly added, before raising a wand in our direction.

“LOSANTIA!”

=====

Dragon’s Lair. Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2200 Hours.

Emma

I knew it.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 350% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

I fucking knew it.

The next few seconds proved critical, as a beam of concentrated mana surged forwards, poised for the both of us.

The prince stood still, and so did I, and even Aquastride as I saw in brilliant fashion the sheer destructive potential wrought on by Ignalius.

The EVI’s wand imaging systems displayed a world of chaotic energies, streams and currents that were once ‘stable’, suddenly collapsing and then tearing in on themselves.

Waves, like those found after an underwater seismic disturbance, washed the local area, causing everyone to wince; even Ignalius himself.

It took a second for the ‘dust’ to settle, but in that second, I’d wasted no time in warming up my counteroffensive.

KA-THUNK!

[RAILGUN CHARGE NOMINAL. CHARGE CAPACITY 100%.]

WHIIIIIIIIINEEEEEEE!

“Hey, Iggy.” I spoke abruptly. “I cast: gun.”