|
Perched on a roof peak like a gleaming stone gargoyle, was a dragon extremely rare in these parts...extremely rare anywhere in the world, actually. The Phase Dragon was a dying breed; had been for ten thousand years.
Ilelan stared down at the street below with the colorless eyes characteristic of her species, motionless, poised like a blood hound...not even a scale lifted for long long moments.
Her stillness was disturbed by an incidence happening down below, just outside an inn called The Drunken Ogre.
Hardly a flattering name, but she's heard worse in five thousand years, she was sure. She noticed at least two half dragons in the group, and her eyes zeroed in on them.
She took in their signatures and analyzed them. One a Silver, the other Bronze. There was a were, a half-elf, and a human as well. Any others were lost among the groups of thick headed thugs trying to beat the were.
Slim chance, certainly. Ilelan shook her head slightly. The big Silver blundered into their midst and killed one of them, and the others fled. She'd seen more grace in a fight from a dead body. And some of the fights she's witnessed or taken part in could curl the toes of any of them down there.
Below, the group retreated into the inn again, and Ilelan shifted, spreading her huge wings, stretching the long digits out. She had dwelled here in the city for quite a while, actually a resident. She was a regular sight to see up in the better parts of town. She usually didn't visit the slums, but she's been looking for a fight lately, and here was the capitol of thieves and wannabe real fighters.
Her wide mouth split in a gryn, and loosed a 'waaauuuurrrrsskkeeeeech', her warning to those below that she was descending to the street. If they didn't understand the meaning of it, they would at least flee before looking up to see the source of the loud screech.
Ilelan leaped out gracefully and landed in the middle of the street, well clear from the buildings on either side.
Fully the size of a large Shire horse, Ilelan was five thousand years old and still very young for her species. She was a gleaming irridescent white. People of all mixed species stood around and watched her, in awe, in fear, in amazement or curiousity. Twice as powerful as any Half, but hardly on the scale compared to the old ones of her kind, like her mother.
Nearby a human stared at her in a hostile manner. Ilelan glared back fearlessly, and the cowardly creature looked away.
Humans. Despite having spent most of her life in the shape of one, she still thought some were worse than boars.
She wandered over to the inn doors. They were wide enough to admit her, for sure. Ilelan bumped them lightly with her nose a few times, then resisted the urge that she had to just rip them off the hinges, and instead shoved through them bodily. People scattered as she entered the inn, turning her head this way and that and challenging all eyes that met hers. They looked away, knowing a fight with the Phase Dragon would result in nil for them.
Ilelan strode bold as brass straight up to the bartender and his counter. He stared at her somewhat fearfully.
She grew coy and warning toned, and slapped a shining coin on the counter top.
"I want the strongest drink you have in the largest container you've got," she said, her voice sounding in broad resonant tones. "And I'll think kindly of ye," she added darkly.
The bartender hurriedly took the coin, hand crafted from one of her own very valuable scales, and brought her a large flagon of dark fragrant ale.
Ilelan sat, took the drink in her clawed hand and pounded it down. Several male patrons watched in admiration as she poured the ale straight down her throat.
She set it down delicately, and scanned the room for the Half's she'd seen earlier. They were there, at another table.
Ilelan watched them surreptitiously.
_________________ Fear sam bith a loisgeas a mhà s, ‘s e fhèin a dh’fheumas suidhe air.
Far an taine ‘n abhainn, ‘s ann as mò a fuaim.
Is ladarna gach cù air a shitig fhèin.
|
