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Isirion

The Bloodline of Torch

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Uncharacteristically the Guardian didn't care about Sappo's mistreatment and dangerous encounter with the wall at all. He was too busy staring evisceration knives at Isirion through the iron bars of his prison daring him to kill the three guards in cold blood. Isirion ignored him as he now ignored the first guard that he had almost scared to death. Instead he continued his business approach with the other two guards. He carefully reached inside his cloak and pulled a leaf out of an inside pocket. He held it exactly between the two Nebs so that they both could see that the leaf glowed with the vibrant colours of the current season, identifying it beyond any doubt as a Leetle leaf. The guards' eyes lit up with greed and they both tried to snatch it away. Of course Isirion was faster and pulled his hand away just in time. He shot the Guardian, whose eyes had lit up in anger a wicked smile and said to no one in particular: "Let me take the administrational problems off your hands and the leaf is all yours." At once the Nebs scrambled towards the cage and tried to outdo each other in opening it. Once the Guardian was free, Isirion stepped towards the first guard and dropped the Leetle leaf in his hands. Still smiling wickedly he turned around and lead the 'problems' he had just bought out of the tower while the guards figured out the bloody math that there were three of them but only one Leetle leaf...

Edited by Isirion

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Alzira smiled to herself, thinking about the troubles the guards now had. "Serves them right!", she thought. She usually held no grudges, but everyone has a limit. Mistreating dragons was her's. As soon as she was outside again she stretched and took a deep breath of... city-air, but well, anything was better than the insides of that cold, damp tower. Then she bowed down and picked up Sappo who had taken the outside route like the other messenger pygmies. He was limping a bit harder since he noticed that their escape was sucessful. She cooed at the little dragon who obviously liked it and started a soft dragon grumble. He was to be pampered, he was the hero, wasn't he? At the same time she caressed the little one, she checked for injuries but she didn't find anything. Nevertheless, she would ask Susurro to take a closer look, just to be sure.

 

They were heading towards the arena and Alzira was once again wondering how this adventure would continue. She expected Isirion to be not too happy about the loss of the leaf and she wasn't too enthusiastic to talk to the Guardian because he definitely didn't like lying, although technically speaking, she hadn't lied- she just let the guards believe what they wanted, but that were minor differences to him she presumed.

 

Susurro was quite relieved when Alzira, the Guardian and Isirion had finally had left the building. He followed them with his eyes and watched the limping Sappo reunite with their keeper. The little one had always to exaggerate he thought amused. Nevertheless he was glad they had escaped unharmed. Once they walked into the next street he jumped into the air, beat his wings a few times and soared to the arena to await their return.

Edited by Alzira

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Taking the scenic route to make sure they weren't followed, the small group easily found the time to pick up Ale on the way. Being thoroughly drunk, the old man had to lean on the Guardian which didn't help their travelling speed at all. When they finally arrived back at the arena the afternoon was almost gone and even Sappo had gotten tired of pretending to limp to keep his keeper's attention focused on him. It was a good thing he had stopped trying because in the time they had been away the arena had turned into something that drew everyone's attention. Composed of dozens of botched black und blue blob banners the entire arena front was now covered with a way-larger-than-life canvas that moved eerily in the wind. It was the same scene Pride had tried to paint on smaller scale but much more alive. Every gust of wind made the different banners that made up the Royal Blue's scales ripple as if the dragon actually moved. For dramatic effect, two Pygmies had been assigned to do a little fire breathing to fortify the illusion. The black blob had gotten a make-over too. A very black, very velvety and very cumbering cloak was loosely attached to the canvas for mysterious reasons. Sticking out from it's depths was a pointy red and black stick-thing that probably should depict Death's somewhat famous bloodstained blade. Together it looked less like an epic battle scene and more like a picture of a dragon who had accidently charred his first meat on a stick while trying to barbecue for the first time in his life.

 

Isirion eyed the whole thing for a full minute, but the canvas refused to drop dead or at least down. Finally he sighed and went inside to report back to his master. Sodger looked fully recovered and eager to fight. The old soldier called for everyone to gather around him, then he spoke: "The time has come to bring those scoundrels to justice. We will drag them out of their hiding-holes and punish them one by one. Leave none of them alive unless they can tell you what happened to Eyes. If we find out that the Gatherer is dead, we will at least have avenged him - otherwise retrieving him will be our next mission. Now, lets not waste anymore time talking. Drake - lead us to your former employer so that we may fight proudly or die!"

Edited by Isirion

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Drake pulled herself onto Taellonn's back, the added height and Drake's confident posture clearly showing her intentions of leading to anyone who could see. Her voice conveyed the same authority she was trying to establish as she began to explain. "We're going to be one of three parties, and I'm anticipating that size-wise, we're between the two. The largest party is distracting and keeping away the Nebs. And, as a failsafe, there's a lookout, the third group, for us on our way to the mansion. They should be close enough where we could rely on them for backup in the mansion if it's more than we anticipated." She thought over the parties. "Essentially, if you see a dragon and rider, and they're not Nebs or wary of you, that's my people at work. And I won't hesitate to warn all of you about anything suspicious I didn't set up. But as long as you follow me and what I say, it should all be fine."

 

Since getting back to the others, Ezra had kept a tight grip on Relantia's black saddle, ready to jump on and be swiftly escorted to the city once again. The only thing was... No one was telling him or Relantia to go. He had established he was going to be watching out for Roxanne along with any one other person who volunteered- surely he should be going by now. He looked up at Relantia. "Shouldn't we be off by now?" A deep grumble of a chuckle escaped her. "I was right about your skills in strategy. Don't get me wrong, I am flattered that you have brought me to show off to the rest. But you have neglected to see the poor strategy in that. I cannot go unseen out there; the Nebs must be preoccupied before I have an opportunity to go in. Otherwise there'll be chaos, and no spotting job for you. Even then we must be careful." Ezra scowled. "So Roxanne's going in unsupervised until everything else is done? What good does that do?" Relantia looked down at him. "You tell me. You're the one who brought me along."

Ezra was ready to complain more, maybe to convince Relantia to go against orders and try to fly in regardless of the risk, before an unfamiliar voice caught his attention. "You needed a volunteer?" He looked to the source and saw a young man about his sister's age with a defensive-looking Fever Wyvern behind him. He barely matched the average look of a warrior; he had a soft jawline and features and a patchy beard that just looked like weed patches in an otherwise dead field, and his armor looked fairly light compared to the other sets here. Strangest was the leather belt and cuffs with some sort of decoration on them. Ezra's hand abandoned Relantia's saddle to let him walk towards the man. "Right, we do. I'm Ezra, Roxanne's brother. Who're you?" Ezra took notice of the Fever Wyvern carefully mirroring the man's steps as the pair walked forward, despite the death-glare the wyvern was giving him instead of looking at the man's feet. The glare distracted Ezra so much he was caught off guard by the oddly calloused hand that gripped his; leading him to quickly look over and notice that the "decorations" he'd seen before on the leather were actually throwing knives. "I'm Leon. My family isn't too close to yours, but our morals bind us. Consider me an ally of Drake's and a fighter for the cause. I've trained in stealth enough where I think being lookout would be perfect for me." The stranger's smile seemed sincere enough, and his face still had a sort of innocence to it with his soft features that Ezra trusted. Relantia, however, was skeptical. She hadn't seen this "Leon" before, nor his dragon. But she stayed quiet, seeing as her earlier surveillance of the area hadn't warned her of anything suspicious. Besides, Roxanne was more capable than Ezra probably judged her to be, and Relantia would be by her soon enough anyways.

Leon and the Fever Wyvern with him quickly left to serve as a lookout for Drake, maneuvering away from Nebs currently being distracted either by younger warriors taunting them, or older ones using more strategic techniques to distract them, trying to get to the point where a Royal Crimson could sneak past unseen...

 

Drake waited until distant dragon pairs distracting the Nebs before them could be seen getting farther and farther away before letting Taellonn create and lead the best path he could formulate. She was preoccupied being ever-vigilant for any Nebs, or the spotters she couldn't seem to find anywhere.

Edited by Drakessis

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The natural confidence Drake had taken charge with clearly impressed Sodger. As an ex-captain he had some experience in judging leader skills and the warrior woman's were top-notch. The Guardian had appointed himself bodyguard of his former captain in Aseto's stead because the Royal Blue's pride didn't allow himself to be painted over to look like an Anagallis or even worse. Instead he used the starting distractions to raise above the clouds in a steam cloud. Nobody came to investigate, probably because the occasional fume from a chimney, stove or arena wasn't that peculiar a sight. Ale's massively overweight Royal Blue had already gotten a free pass from the Nebs so he decided to approach their destination on a casual, care-free way that involved a lot of belly-scratching and letting children play jump the tail with his tail. Nobody seeing Barrel on the road like that would think that dragon was having any kind of purpose which served exactly their purpose. Ale tagged along with a sour look. His head felt as if Barrel was belly-bouncing it and he had to suppress the urge to vomit every five steps. Isirion was bringing up the rear, once again second-guessing Drake's motives. The amount of people her plan involved would make them the target of a city-wide man-hunt if even the slightest thing went wrong. One distress dragon flame could bring the Nebs down on them; distraction or no distraction. It would be better if someone sneaked in beforehand and eliminated that threat in advance. Isirion relinquished his post as rearguard to Ale and closed the distance to the leading 'Anagallis'. When he was sure he had it's rider's attention he calmly voiced his concern and easiest solution.

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Drake's sudden alertness and improvement of posture as Isirion approached were anything but subtle, just as her intentions to stay in control of this operation were. Needless to say Drake had absolutely no reason in her mind to trust Isirion or even respect his input, and she questioned why he didn't seem to show any shred of suspicion about her when clearly there had to be some sort of tension; it only made sense, right? Still, she wasn't just going to ignore him, but made sure to only treat him to the level of disclosure she'd shown so far. Nearly refusing to look at him, she just watched the path ahead and occasionally glanced to the sides as she responded, "As tempting as going in solo sounds, I could only think that it'd be even riskier than everything going on already. The people I've summoned aren't incompetent- they can keep off the Nebs beyond distractions. We don't know what exactly lies ahead- if anything, someone scouting out ahead would be better than plain going out and attacking anything ahead. If that went wrong, that'd put us in an even worse position than if we just keep going in with the support of a group. And we've already got supervision insuring we're well guarded." Hoping Isirion would assume Drake could sense the supervision he couldn't (considering they weren't even there,) and realizing a certain Royal Crimson hadn't shown up and could probably only be supervision at this point, she continued with an uncharacteristically cocky tone she almost instantly hated uttering. "With all that behind us, we've got a better chance continuing as a group than we possibly could with even one of us splitting off- no matter how skilled." With that she dismissed him, not giving him a chance to protest or respond in any way.

 

Leon found himself constantly having to shift his positioning on his wyvern's back, the constant turning motions making it hard to focus on one spot on the ground for long. He noticed the mansion before the group, though clearly his dragon had done the opposite as she was already starting to starting to descend with each turn. But the wyvern's autonomy was quickly discouraged as Leon instructed her to fly for him to get a better view of the mansion and its guards- at least a good enough one where the guards couldn't get a view of him. This meant he had to sacrifice getting a look at their armor but could still see their numbers. His wyvern couldn't manage to see much better because of the greenery between guards, but Leon figured he'd be close enough to see the size of joint gaps and type of headgear the guards sported once he was on the ground. He mostly focused on the edges of the guards' area, knowing anything even a few feet too close to the open could get him caught, especially since he'd have to be assessing each guard and their armor in a small slot of time before attacking.

He felt his wyvern's tail shivering, spines surely itching to follow in after some quick rush down to weaken and kill them all. But Leon didn't permit her to dive like that, knowing that was too high a risk to take and not wanting to put the guards through anything excruciating unless they got desperate. She landed a bit of a distance away from the mansion, Leon not wanting attention drawn to a descending dragon and her rider. The two rushed to cover near the mansion, right behind a pair of guards Leon had selected to target. Leon was closer; the green wyvern trailing him used the advantage of her particularly unreflectlive-colored scales and the darkness from that ever so slightly farther distance to hide until she had to help Leon. Quiet moments of held breaths and steady hands silently releasing knives from the opposing leather sleeves let Leon observe the unsuspecting guards' armor. The thick but tall plant stalks and grasses he had hidden behind didn't give away much as he made them rustle to anyone but the guards who already had their fates sealed . Launching himself to stand let Leon lodge his right knife into the back of the closest guard's knee, letting him push himself up with the newly formed platform as the guard started falling too, any sound he could have made prevented by a knife pushed in right where his neck met the bottom of his mouth. The wyvern had synched her attack with the first stab, and had already forcibly yanked back her kill by the shoulders and mid-chest while Leon recoiled back into a crouch and pulled along his victim with the awkward handles he'd created in the body. They pulled them back farther than the wyvern's original hiding spot, and Leon examined the armor. Both figures were overall larger than him, and the more fitting looking chest piece was scuffed from the bite its wearer suffered, with the matching helm covered in dragon spot. These were the two pieces he'd need just to be fitting from the corner of an eye, too. He accepted having to use clunkier armor to suffice getting to the guards more in the open. He retrieved his knives and the armor he'd need. The armor was clunky, just as he thought it'd be, and was, weight-wise, a burden on his frame used to lighter armor that didn't give the most protection but was quieter than anything else he'd tried out. Still, his abilities to spring into an ideal position and draw his knives stayed, so he didn't have much reason to complain. He pulled the bodies to a dark corner, looking to his wyvern in desperation for her help as he struggled against the friction-heavy floor. But the dragon was preoccupied smelling- no, licking the floor. Seeing the faint trail of blood drops and small pools disappear as the wyvern "worked" was, admittedly, disgusting for Leon, but he didn't see many negatives to clearing the trail and let the wyvern continue as he pulled on his own. After, he went back to scout for another close-to-the-edge group on the back of his dragon, noticing the group with the dragon scale armored woman he'd come to assist approaching. The wyvern began to descend again after Leon gave the signal, and he hoped the stolen armor pieces would aid him against the more exposed guards' peripheral vision...

 

Drake looked over the scene ahead. Pairs of guards were scattered about, definitely more coverage than she'd seen before. Despite the scattering the guards were still fairly organized, even with the uneven spacing. There was a group of three in the very back- probably housing the captain. Drake counted over the number of groups in her head- though it didn't quite match up. From a distance she'd counted an even amount of groups; now, up close, there was an odd amount lower by one group. The even number had confused her before, wouldn't they want equal coverage on both sides, since there was that middle outlier of the captain's group? But now the amount was lower and odd. Either Drake's (and, by extension, the fact-checking Taellonn's) eyes has deceived her, the guards had dismissed a group at the realization of their error, or something else had gotten rid of a group. The first option didn't seem plausible; surely Taellonn's support of her count meant something. The second option seemed odd; why would they give up extra protection? And wouldn't Taellonn have told her about one group being dismissed? They had to have been eliminated somehow... Finally, the spotter was here! Drake couldn't really tell who was here exactly, but knew a Royal Crimson would show more signs of being present and certainly couldn't be so stealthy. She backed up the group and explained the situation to anyone too far to or who just plain couldn't see the scene, and advised they start flanking from the sides, unless someone had a better suggestion.

Edited by Drakessis

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Following Drake's explanation only loosely, because he was still trying to spot the supervision the female warrior had mentioned, Isirion became more and more frustrated. He didn't like being watched by an unknown number of people he knew exactly nothing about. Drake hadn't seemed to be lying but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't see any supervision. Still the number of guards was dropping and that meant some kind of support group had to be around already. Isirion watched the guards' movement to figure out a pattern to exploit, but the greenery made it difficult to discern their exact patrol routes. Perhaps it was for the best to just let Drake's people do their work and focus on getting into the mansion where his prey was hiding. From what he could see from his vantage point the roof was decked solid with silver and gold scales. All around the edge went a row of Tri-Horn crests and spikes. The front of the mansion was composed of different coloured Gemshard hides, somehow embedded right into the wall. Stuffed Gemshard hatchlings were lined up on either side of the massive mansion doors that looked reinforced with Colossus plates. That left the side of the mansion which sported a sea-dragon themed balcony decorated with various matching egg shells. Isirion wondered shortly how many of those had been requested on the Egg Hunter's pole before he addressed the small group: "The guards don't actually patrol all around the building. They rely on their numbers to completely cover each side but if we manage to take out the remaining guards on that side we can basically stroll in through the balcony over there. I admit Drake's people seem fully capable but speeding up the process a bit wouldn't hurt our goal." With these words he drew his blade and slipped away into the shadows to take care of the pair of guards that patrolled closest to the group's position. They were clad in the typical Nebula armour that left only a few joints and the throat vulnerable to an attack. Isirion decided to go for the throat since it was imperative that the guards couldn't alarm each other. He waited until both guards faced the greenery he was hiding behind and took aim. To take them out he had to stab their throats in quick succession deep enough to kill them. Remembering the gigantic Hooktalon's movements Isirion leaped up like a snake from the grass and struck them down with lethal precision. Afterwards he dragged the bodies into the nearest hedge and advanced on the next target...

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It didn't take long for Leon to notice the new help. Someone from Drake's direct group, of course, who seemed to value stealth as much as Leon did in their attacks. But the lookout's wyvern was tense, tail whipping around in a reckless way as she flew, a way Leon swore he'd trained her not to do. Leon sacrificed an opportunity for a strike to calm the wyvern. Drake knew what she was doing- it wasn't Leon's job to worry about who Drake was with. If anything, that was Ezra's job. He kept going, making sure not to get too close to the apparent shadow he was now working with.

Drake didn't waste a second once she saw she could get to the balcony. She was already getting some sort of angry-nauseous from the decorations on the mansion's exterior and wanted to get the images out of her head as soon as possible. She knew it'd be worse inside, but she tried to ignore it. Finding within seconds that wasn't happening, she turned the disgust into pure anger. No matter how uncomfortable she got with all this, she was ending this. The worse it was, the more it proved that Drake's plan was just, that this egg shatterer deserved his coming death to pay for all this. Drake jumped off Taellonn onto the balcony, feeling, oddly, like she'd lost some amount of security just from splitting from the Royal Blue. Taellonn himself was trying to ignore much more than Drake was; it felt like he was trying to convince himself that this wasn't even real, that maybe he'd fallen asleep back at the arena. It was a pretty bad way to cope, but it worked. That is, until he was snapped back to reality by wingbeats that were unmistakably made by some huge dragon. The distinctly familiar wingbeats filled Taellonn both with relief and dread. On one hand, Taellonn knew the Royal Crimson would protect Drake, probably better than he ever could. But on the other hand, who the hell brought a Royal Crimson to something that relied this much on stealth?

Drake looked around the bedroom the balcony led too. Notably, the bed, which was, notably, empty. The top blanket was dragon cashmere; much thicker and neater than the mock-cashmere Drake had felt at home made of remarkably shorter bunches of sheared off Pillow Dragon fur. She didn't want to dwell on the thought of what a pillow dragon whose fur couldn't grow fast enough to meet demand might become in the hands of one of the egg shatterer's suppliers, and decided that just from looking she could tell the blankets weren't thick enough to hide someone. The rest of the room seemed to lack that capability too. She walked back to the balcony and looked out at the others, both to check if they were coming or to show that the coast was clear so that could start coming. Taellonn took it upon himself to become another lookout, just to make sure that, between him and Drake, nothing would go unseen.

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The moment, Drake gave the sign that the coastal-themed balcony was clear, Isirion wanted to enter the mansion that way, but the sound of giant wingbeats that each sounded like a thunder clap distracted him. Clearly Drake's allies had a very different definition of stealth, than he had. He stifled an annoyed sigh and looked around very carefully before he climbed up the balcony to get a better view. Was that a Royal Crimson approaching? A dragon like that made even the gigantic Hooktalon look domestic in size. That thing would make one hell of a distraction all on it's own which was fine by Isirion. He gave Drake an approving nod and began to scout ahead. The first room was an empty bedroom. The Dragon Cashmere blanket covering the bed looked thick enough to heat up an Ice Dragon, but the rest of the room sent a shiver down his spine. He remembered all the odd little requests for specifically sized, patterned and coloured eggs he had received and the long hours he had spent fulfilling them. Now the shells of those eggs were plastered all along the walls in decorative patterns and life-size mosaics of their living counterparts. Isirion sighed 'What a waste' and went through the bedroom door inlayed with two intertwined Night Glories. A small floor led to a second bedroom, that looked Daydream-themed. The walls where light blue and every corner was softened with the neck-mane and tail fluff those dragons sported. A little girl was sleeping curled up with a stuffed Pillow hatchling in her arms on the round, cloud-like bed. Isirion doubted the girl could tell him anything useful so he left her alone and inspected the next room. It was a library of some sorts. All the books were about dragons and were bound in the leather and scales of the species they described. Isirion was seriously tempted to nick the one about Hellfires, but he resisted the urge and explored further. At the end of the floor a stone stair, no doubt made of Stone Dragon stone, lead down to another floor on one side and up to a parlour on the other. The parlour was empty at the moment, but there was a large oak table with comfy chairs around and lots of filled wine cups on it. The cups were arranged in a circle and made out of Almandine eggs. The three legs of the round table were carved like Pyralspites dragon heads with matching garnets as their eyes. The curtains and seat cushions in the room matched the general theme, ranging from orange, to red-violet and finally dark red. Suddenly voices drifted up from downstairs, indicating that their owners would arrive here soon. Isirion lost no time and decided to hide behind a dark red curtain, waiting for either Drake to join him in the ambush or the unsuspecting party to be ambushed to arrive...

Edited by Isirion

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Drake's pure loathing of the mansion and its owner were momentarily interrupted by a pang of sympathy when she saw the girl. She wasn't going to wake her up or anything, children were usually flighty when a stranger spoke to them (or woke them up; then they'd be more fit to scream.) That's why the kind of scum Drake heard about and saw being swiftly killed for their disregard for dragons' lives never had children in the same building or area as where they worked. Then again, Drake hadn't heard stories from 'normal' houses being targeted. Seeing the fur on the walls mostly ended Drake's sympathy. Still, the girl surely couldn't be held accountable for much, if anything. Drake pressed on, glad Taellonn wasn't in the room. He was too empathetic to face a child in a home like this.

The library didn't offer much but another onset of disgust, and the stairs ahead didn't either. She held back an upset snort. If the staircase was lined with Brimstone throats it still wouldn't be as bad as the taste in the back of Drake's throat growing worse as she proceeded. The only thing that broke Drake's near nausea was the sound of voices approaching. She took note of Isirion's action in response to them and joined him behind the curtains. There was no way she was leaving him alone, especially with the kill she deserved and her distrust of him. Besides, it wasn't like anyone was getting word out once this was done with, the rest of the house could wait (if she was even willing to endure more of the household.) She thought about the circumstances. If she couldn't keep Isirion with her in the house after this encounter, she'd have to move quick. Surely with the Nebs outside preoccupied and the targets here taken care of he'd have his guard down; even that blade of his probably wouldn't move quick enough in an unsuspecting hand. But for now, her priority was Lord Hassleborough. Her hands became momentarily more aware of the newly sharpened claw weapons adorning the ends of her fingers before they melded back into feeling like just another natural extension of the digits. The awareness came with a realization of all the betrayals she'd be going through with and all the faking and vagueness bringing her towards it. She actually started to feel eager, excited that she had been able to orchestrate all this and trick people in a way anyone unknowing of her situation would surely see as downright cruel in the end. But she knew better. She was helping dragons to their better lives, and avenging ones that were stripped of their chances! She kept herself from fidgeting, knowing that was about as counterintuitive as it got. But her focus was still sharp, if not sharper than ever, this spiteful but energetic rush making her ready to ambush the group, do whatever she needed. She was self motivated, with nothing to stop her energy free to stay as anticipation until she'd need it for some stronger emotion. That one constant thought rushed through the back of her mind and her veins, pushing through like dangerous currents and pushing out the disgust keeping her more in check before.

She was a hero, and she'd gotten too far to fail now.

Edited by Drakessis

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With Drake standing so close to him, Isirion could easily tell now that she was out for blood. Twice before she had carefully hidden her body language and motives, but now even her claw-weapons seemed to itch in anticipation of the oncoming slaughter. Normally that would have been totally fine with him, but at least two of their targets, had to stay alive long enough to be interrogated. The voices were too close now to risk reminding Drake of their agreement and so he had to remain silent. Through a gap between the curtains he watched five men enter the parlour and gathering around the table. The first one, wearing a silver scale vest and matching hose had to be the lord of the mansion. Sitting next to him was the master of the thieves guild who had gotten rid of his moustache and called himself Jack now. Next to Jack sat a man with the demeanour of a servant and downcast eyes. On lord Hassleborough's other side sat a rather fat man with rings all over his fingers, Isirion assumed that it was Wallet, the guild's fence since he perfectly matched the description he had coerced from the Leetle Fish's bartender. Cowering more than sitting, Fingers occupied the last seat, the fingers on his remaining hand drumming nervously on the table. Jack shot him an annoyed glance and said: "You have nothing to worry about - I told you I have seen to it that our 'problems' are taken care of - permanently." Fingers stopped fidgeting and replied with a defiant undertone filled with loathing: "And here we are, hiding in this...mansion...because that approach worked so well the last two times we tried it. Jack grimaced Fingers to be silent, but Lord Hassleborough didn't seem to be offended. Instead he stood up and offered them the wine cups. His voice was soothing as a cashmere blanket as he spoke: "I have invited you into my marvellous mansion as guests who can acknowledge my fine tastes. I am sure you will love this rare wine, it is enriched with Vine Dragon sap, procured directly from their vines, while they are still alive and thrashing. A rather dangerous business, but that makes the taste even sweeter." Finger's face turned the colour of vines, but Jack took a bold sip and stated: "This has a fine, sweet taste indeed, but the taste of our revenge will be even sweeter. Don't you think so too?" Jack looked at each of his companions, urging them to please their host. Wallet took a sip too and mangaged to say 'sweet' before full emptying the cup and groping for another one. The servant took only a small sip and said politely: "That is an acquired taste indeed, I am not worthy on even commenting on it." Fingers looked like he would rather vomit than drink even a drop. He stood up, excused himself and ran out of the room, distracting everyone from the wine, the table and even more importantly - the curtains...

Edited by Isirion

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Outside, Leon was glad to have spotted Drake and the shadow of a man she was working with get into the mansion through the balcony, and decided he'd watch over that area, since he no longer needed to take care of guards. However, he was met with an Anagallis; and a clunky looking one for the breed at that. He decided to let his wyvern sneak towards the dragon for a bit, not wanting to compromise anything planned. He had severely underestimated the dragon's alertness, who turned to meet Leon with gold eyes that, along with its stature and extra horns, proved Leon's suspicions of the Anagallis being anything but. Leon spoke quietly, using his thumb to caress the knife he'd pulled out and trying to make his voice at least somewhat threatening so that the dragon wouldn't suspect that he wouldn't actually consider killing it. "State your allegiance and I'll debate your worth." The 'Anagallis' just stared ahead with confused eyes. He whispered back, "Leon? You've met Drake, I've seen you, you volunteered for all this... I'm her escort, surely you know me?" Leon recognized the voice and knowledge from a chance encounter a while ago in which he'd met the female warrior and her Royal Blue, and apologized for his threat. Being that Drake had never acknowledged him as anything else but an escort, Leon decided that it wouldn't hurt to defend alongside the Royal Blue. Sure, he wasn't scrawny or anything, but he didn't look like much of a fighter either. Taellonn didn't object to the extra defense, glad there was someone more to observe the area. Meanwhile, Relantia was trying to convince Ezra that rushing into the house could barely even be considered an idea, despite his near begging to go in. Relantia mostly ignored him at a certain point, deciding to take the situation into her own 'hands' and folding her wings so Ezra couldn't get off and was completely at her mercy. Still, Ezra grabbed his sword and drew it out slightly, like it was a creature he needed to let breathe. His knuckles whitened at the grip, and he prayed Drake wasn't in more danger than the situation implied...

 

Drake was glad Fingers had rushed out of the room; that freed some effort from her. She certainly wasn't afraid of him, but had been afraid before that he'd have been the first to run and alert someone of an ambush. Even with the precautions taken, anyone getting away wasn't something Drake wanted to deal with. Now down to four men she only had a few options. One was to try to convince them she'd been let in; or at least convince them long enough to where she'd be in the best position to strike someone. Or, she could rush over best she could and try to strike that way. The former seemed better, and it might buy Isirion some time to plan out whatever he was going to do. She looked over the room as well as she could from the gaps, and decided she was close enough to an alternative entryway to duck around to it and re-enter the room from that side. The sound of her armor and the movement of the curtains was her biggest concern, but hopefully Finger's distraction at the other end of the room and moving quickly enough with her room-color-matching armor would make the men think it was nothing but her approach. As she knelt down and prepared to make her escape, she quickly looked to Isirion and managed to hold up a hand and mouth "wait here." She started with a few silent steps crouched down, but once she knew all eyes were away from her and the curtains she sped up, using her palms to pull herself along faster before ducking around the outside of the entrance. Upon standing up she tried to relax herself, or at least disguise her readiness to attack as a bodyguard's alertness. Drake turned into the doorway as if she had just walked from another room. That movement did result in attention, and she spoke before anyone else could, looking to Wallet. "Sir, there you are, I've been searching around this..." A pained smile appeared on Drake's face, though she hoped they thought a pained smile on a battle-scarred warrior's face wasn't too out of the norm. "...gorgeous mansion for a while wondering where you were after my time in the city. I hope you hadn't needed me in that time, I'm terribly sorry." Her eyes shifted to Lord Hassleborough, and she politely nodded, hiding the violent thoughts her mind was swiftly forming and her hands were longing to recreate. "Greetings."

Edited by Drakessis

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Drake had won over Lord Hassleborough at 'gorgeous mansion'. His eyes took in her life-like dragon-scale armor and claw-weapons and he nodded approvingly: "Another true admirer has joined our circle. Please sit with us and enjoy a cup of Vine. Wallet who, in the mean-time, had emptied another cup focused on his bodyguard and said: "Drake, I knew you were just having fun in the big city. Come, join us." The fat man patted invitingly on the empty seat, Fingers had left behind before groping for another wine cup. Jack had had his suspicions about Drake's absence, but there was no denying that she was here now. He sighed and repeated the invitation: "You have played a vital part in helping us get here safely. The least we can do is offer you a place at our table and a very fine drink."

 

Watching Drake's reception from behind the curtains, Isirion planned his next move following her lead. Alas there was no next move following her lead. Since Jack already knew his voice and appearance there was no way he could pass his own dragon-skin cloak of as a sign of another true 'admirer' and join the party too. Instead he would have to figure out Drake's real purpose and act accordingly. His only clue was her apparent fixation with this mansion. She had told him before, that the only reason she had posed as Wallet's bodyguard had been to get here. That meant, that her target was most likely Hassleborough himself. If she dealt with the lord, that left Jack, Wallet and the servant to him. Using the element of surprise, he could probably stab the servant and disable Jack, before anyone could gather their wits. The only problem was getting to Wallet, who was sitting on the other side of Drake's target. If he focused on Jack and the servant, he could not prevent the fence from screaming for help - that task would fall to Drake. Isirion was certain she could handle the fat man, but would she do it in a way that made it possible to still interrogate him afterwards? Compared to Jack, who had taken the green-haired lady hostage and set a gigantic Hooktalon loose on him, the fence would be much easier to press for information about the missing Gatherer. But how could he signal Drake to spare Wallet without giving himself away? Isirion couldn't think of a way right now and so he decided to observe the situation a little longer.

 

In the mean-time outside the mansion

 

Sodger, Ale and the Guardian had donned some of the fallen guards' armour and resumed their patrols for the benefit of any prying eyes. Sodger posed as the guard's captain and walked right between his old comrades to stay on the path he could not see. As he focused on the feel of the path beneath his feet his steps were in fact much steadier than Ale's who was still sobering up. The Guardian's strides were restless as he was worried about what was going on inside the mansion not to mention the fact that he now somehow owed the Leetle thief his life and probably another leaf.

 

At the same time in front of Pride's arena

 

Illuminated by the Pygmies' fire the canvas depicting 'The Death and the Dragon' had managed to draw the attention of both the Nebulas and the Shadows. The Nebs were discussing the possibility that the blue dragon-blob was of the same species that had brought them so much trouble recently. That possibility was backed-up by the fact, that one of them remembered that they had brokered a deal with one of the air-bandits who had managed to get his hands on a Royal Blue. For a moderate fee they had sold the dragon to that particular arena and let the bandit leader go free. Not much later all hell had broken loose in the city because of a Royal Blue running rampant and the Nebs agreed, that they would love to see a dragon of that kind get what it deserved tomorrow.

 

Nightfeather and Trueshot, the two Shadow assassins, were sitting cross-legged on the roof-top opposite the arena and discussed the black side of the canvas. "It can't be that easy, can it?", Nightfeather opened the conversation. Trueshot shook his head, but with less conviction than his partner expected. He made a gesture with his hand that included as much of the city as possible and said. "We have done our homework as have our informers. A hooded figure matching our target's description perfectly has been seen in this vicinity more than once. A few of our contacts have seen him lurking in front of a tavern not far from here. Others claim to have spotted him fleeing from the place of the latest riot. You know, that arena only a few flight minutes from here. One guy would even swear he saw him entering that patrol tower over there." Nightfeather let her eyebrows rise into her tousled hair and asked: "You think he is hiding here in plain sight?" Trueshot shrugged and replied: "All I am saying is, that it wouldn't hurt to check it out. Cover me." The assassin made sure his weapons couldn't clink or reflect any moon or starlight, then he quickly climbed down and crossed the street. After a bit of searching around he found the entrance for human challengers. It looked more frequently used than he would have expected. From what he had heard his target could more than challenge a dragon, but it would be more than unprofessional to get his hopes up from just that. As fast and sneaky as possible Trueshot entered the unfamiliar structure and let his eyes adjust. After a few moments he could make out some cages, one of them occupied by a sleeping Golden Wyvern. It's well polished scales gleamed even in the darkness and Trueshot moved around it as quickly as he dared. That species wasn't nocturnal as far as he knew, but an unfamiliar scent might wake it up nonetheless. The next room looked like some sort of storage place for everything from ridiculous clothes to ridiculous armour and weapons. Going further Trueshot discovered another sleeping dragon. This time it was a White and it wasn't in a cage. He knew that White Dragons were wellknown for their peaceful nature but he stayed clear just in case. Not far from the dragon he discovered several sleeping humans. Seeing as it was the middle of the night and they were unlikely to wake up anytime soon, Trueshot decided he had to use this golden opportunity to sneak close to each of them to determine if they showed any resemblance to his target.

Edited by Isirion

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Drake was dumbfounded at the success of her efforts. She really hadn't expected anything to work that well, and felt bad that she had gotten Isirion stuck behind the curtains for the short time being instead of allowing him to strike almost as soon as the group here had suspicions. But this really just proved how shallow people could be, didn't it? Between Wallet's boasting much earlier and the off-handed compliment she'd snuck into her statement now, it seemed like all these men valued were their possessions; how quickly would that turn once they realized the risk to their lives? Drake insisted that, "as to not dirty the furniture" from her armor, she'd "much rather stand," and established her position amongst the men.

She recalled what Sodger had said before she was assigned to go here with Isirion; that they needed information from Wallet. Alright, so killing him was off limits for now, at least if she wanted to keep whatever level of trust there was with Isirion. As for Lord Hassleborough, he didn't seem to be part of the whole operation. After all, wouldn't that group be after Wallet wherever he went, not just this mansion? Drake agreed with her own question and decided that the mansion owner could be left all to her and her weapons. That left Jack and the servant beside him. Not knowing much about them or Isirion's thoughts towards them she decided it'd be best not to interfere with them. For effeciency it'd probably be best to separate targets into two and two, meaning, if everything went how she

wanted, Isirion would take care of Jack and the servant however he meant to while Drake took care of Lord Hassleborough and prevented Wallet from squealing and then immobilized him. Her jaw locked shut like a metal trap as she accepted their offer of a cup of that vile Vine-wine and grabbed one. Of course she had no intention of drinking any (she honestly couldn't tell if she'd rather this plan fail and she die instead of having to drink any,) but she didn't want to draw suspicion and would need the cup for her plan anyways. Feeling like eyes were on her, she reluctantly inched the cup close to her tight-locked lips, trying to hide a disgusted snarl as the scents from the liquid pressed into her nose and she noticed each stray drop on the side of the cup along with the faint movements of the liquid. She was hyperaware of these movements, these insignificant little waves and sliding drops in the Almandine cup. It really shouldn't have mattered as much as it did to her, those little movements, but Drake had been forced over the edge before she'd even entered the mansion and had been just as harshly forced to contain it. It was barely even the contents of the drink at this point that were filling her with this Hooktalon-adjacent rage; it was those little movements, with more freedom to act than her. Her gaze switched from that aggravating drink to the curtains, where she hoped Isirion would catch on to her incoming attack. If not... Well, he was surely quick enough to strike once he noticed her doing so.

Drake's leg swung around the other in a small half-orbit as she began to saunter in Lord Hassleborough's direction. Just as her body turned to mostly face Lord Hassleborough, she whipped around to toss the drink in Wallet's face as a distraction for him, making sure to throw the cup full-force right towards his face too for good measure after. She lunged at Lord Hassleborough, much more than ready and downright craving to spill his blood in the name of her cause and to avenge the defiled dragons who now adorned the mansion, robbed of their lives and lives-to-be. Her knee found a position shoved against the egg shatterer's abdomen as he was forcibly pressed back into his seat, giving her leverage to push all of her weight into her hand (as if her arm wasn't already spring-loaded into an attack by all the pent-up anger behind it.) She'd thrusted one set of claws into his neck, fingers digging into where Drake most expected one artery to be, while her thumb was able to grope around for and better stab into another. Feeling the initial shock-tenseness begin its release from Lord Hassleborough's neck and torso, she used her knee to push off of him as her weapons created new wounds to tear out of, and rushed over to put Wallet in the best chokehold she could manage with her armor before he could alert anyone. She'd caught him out of his seat in the moment of chaos, giving her the circumstances she needed to hook his neck and get behind him. Still, despite getting him into the intended position, she fought to push him against a wall to better stop him from any more thrashing or escape attempts, sparing any free moments for a glance at Isirion's progress...

Edited by Drakessis

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In the end Isirion decided to trust Drake's common sense in dividing the targets and she did not disappoint him. The moment she threw the wine cup to incapacitate Wallet, Isirion weaved around the curtain and closed the gap between him and his first target. He unsheathed his blade and stabbed the servant with one lightning fast move in the heart before turning his blade on Jack. The ex-master of the thieves guild grabbed for one of his hidden knives but the edge of the blade hovering half an inch from his throat made him realize it was already too late. He glared at his assaulter and hissed: "At least I can look death in the face." Isirion wasted a precious second trying to figure out what Jack's statement meant before he whipped his blade around and knocked the man unconscious with the pommel. After hitting him again just to be safe, Isirion quickly assessed Hassleborough's fate and then focused his attention on Wallet. The fat man was hanging limply in Drake's grip but apparently still alive. With a carefully calculated move he positioned his blade at an angle above Wallet's chest that would allow him to pierce both his and Drake's heart if he used the right amount of strength. By now Wallet's face was wet with perspiration and tears. The man was crying and pleading for his life with his eyes. Isirion appeared unmoved by the silent plea as he cut through the man's vestment and flesh precisely deep enough to make one drop of blood appear. Then he asked in his usual voice, cold and devoid of any emotions: "Blink once if your master knows the whereabouts of the man calling himself the Gatherer, blink twice if you know too." Wallet's brain begun to race. The cold-blooded murderer standing before him needed only one of them to tell him what he wanted to know, but Wallet highly doubted that there would be any other reward than a quick death for telling. Either way he was a dead man and the realization made his heart beat in his chest like a galloping Horse Dragon. To prolong his life as long as he could he blinked twice. The blade vanished from his chest and one quick step and another blink of the eye later, Jack's severed head rolled up to his feet and stared up accusingly. Wallet stared down, suddenly realizing that he didn't even knew the man's real name or if he had had any family. Isirion kicked the head away and hissed towards Drake: "Bring him to my master, so he can interrogate that whimp. I still need to catch Fingers."

Edited by Isirion

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Drake hadn't seen Wallet's answer, but it seemed like Isirion had what he wanted (if an aggressive tone, severed head, but alive Wallet meant he had what he wanted.) None of it had really surprised her besides the angle Isirion first had his blade at- she'd immediately detected the threat there could be to her when Isirion had first targeted Wallet. Right at noticing it she'd held back the knee-jerk reaction of headbutting Isirion with Wallet and let him interrogate the man instead. Now, with new orders, she was being told to abandon the mansion.

But her spotters weren't told to, were they?

Alright, Drake would keep her deception going for as long as she could. It didn't matter who killed Isirion in the end, really. So either she'd return inside after dropping off Wallet, or one of her comrades would stop Isirion as he left the mansion. Let Isirion kill Fingers and whoever he encountered that worked for the deceased Lord- that was less work for Drake. She nearly dragged Wallet with her to some curtains as she used one free hand to tear them and create a makeshift gag. Now that Wallet couldn't speak she used more of the fabric to bind his arms so that she could just push him forward as he walked instead of choking him the whole way out. She pushed Wallet out of the room and out of earshot of Isirion. She sharply whispered, "Know that I'm just as likely to kill you as anyone else here who wants to question you. That being said, if you say a single thing to the rest about what I'm going to be telling my ally outside, your throat is going to be nothing more than red pulp caught under these claws before you even get a chance to get anyone's sympathy." She didn't wait for any sort of reaction to keep going, though she hoped he thought that staying quiet might give him a chance to live. Trusting that Taellonn was still by the balcony, Drake decided they could exit there. Reaching the balcony showed her that not only the disguised Royal Blue was there, but a Fever Wyvern and her rider too. They were fairly hidden against the darkness, but she still noticed them and beckoned for them to come close. She directed Leon, saying, "I trust you've seen the man I entered with?" Leon nodded, and Drake continued. "Good. He's still in the mansion, and I don't know if I'm going to be back in there in time. Check any exits to see if he's leaving the building when I'm gone or if you think I'm lost in the mansion or something. Don't bother alerting me if I'm out, just try to kill him, I don't care how. Use your weapons or your dragon, or anything. My warning is that he's extremely quick, especially with his blade and won't hesitate to kill you or your dragon. I heard Ezra and Relantia here earlier; go tell them all this and make sure to describe our target. Go!" Leon nodded as his wyvern darted off so they could tell Ezra and Relantia the plans, leaving Drake with Taellonn. She got on his back while Wallet was grabbed by the now overloaded dragon's front claws and delivered to the ground that way. Drake jumped off of Taellonn and helped Wallet to his feet after seeing how ungracefully her escort had dropped him a couple feet away from the ground so that he personally could land. Taellonn, not wanting to prolong the entire situation, asked Drake what exactly she was doing and gave her Sodger and the others' whereabouts once hearing. Drake saw the disguised trio and snuck over, pushing Wallet down with her and using the greenery as cover, despite not seeing any hostile guards about. Reaching the trio she told them Isirion's orders to her and hoped they'd dismiss her or be distracted so she could go back into the mansion and find Isirion again. As long as these men were fooled, it wouldn't matter what she did inside the mansion; it wasn't like she'd be checking back with them before abandoning the city with Taellonn.

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Illuminated by the moonlight Wallet made an even more pitiful sight than before. Tears were streaming down his face, his whole frame was shaking and the more he was trying to curl up into a ball beneath Drake's feet the worse it got. Ale and the Guardian were clearly moved by the sight, but Sodger showed no sign of sympathy as he used the faint whimpers that escaped through the makeshift gag to locate the captive's head. The old soldier pressed his hand down on Wallet's mouth amplifying the effect of the gag and whispered menacingly: "You will not make a single sound from now on. You will only nod for yes or shake your head for no strong enough so that I can feel it. Understood?" Wallet nodded once and tried really hard to suppress his whimpers. Sodger rewarded the effort with a pat and more questions: "Is the Gatherer still alive?" The fat man nodded. "Do you know where he is?" Wallet nodded again. "Can you draw his location?" Another nod and Sodger said: "Good. My companion will now take over the interrogation." The old man removed his hand from Wallet's mouth and stepped back. In his place the Guardian stepped forward and freed the fence's arms and handed him a piece of charcoal and one of Alzira's sketches. Wallet drew the outline of the fishermen's village with shaky hands on the back. Then he sketched the mountain, the forest and the lake with as much detail as he could as he realized the longer he drew the longer he stayed alive. The Guardian noticed his intention and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, indicating he would dislocate or break it if there was anymore stalling. Wallet moved the coal faster and finally marked a spot halfway between the mountain and the Endless Desert as 'Cloak & Dagger's lair'. The Guardian took the map and the charcoal and said: "The Hooktalon is dead. Is there anyone else guarding that lair?" Wallet's eyes widened then he carefully shook his head. The Guardian looked alarmed and asked almost at once: "Then there is no-one left to give him food or water?" Wallet's eyes almost squeezed out of his skull pleadingly as he nodded once begging not to kill him for this. Sodger, now that he was no longer touching the fence had no way of knowing that he had nodded but he could sense his companion's dread and the colour drained out of his face as he asked him: "How much time has passed since then?" The Guardian gazed up at the night sky and answered: "More than a day, almost two days I fear and we don't even know if that dragon has given Eyes food and water before he left the lair to attack us. We have to leave immediately to save him and we need a distraction to do so." The bear-like man faced Drake and asked: "We need to leave the big city right now without risking to be delayed by those accursed Nebs. Every second counts. Can your friends provide a distraction big enough for three people and dragons to escape the city unnoticed?"

 

Inside the mansion

 

Fingers ran. Ever since he had heard the unmistakeable sound of a certain blade being drawn and connecting with flesh on his return to the parlor he hadn't stopped once. He raced down stairs, sped across hallways and dashed around corners until he faced a dead end. Panicked he turned around and retraced his last steps until he found a new path. Only then he allowed himself to slow down a bit and think. There were guards supposed to be all around the mansion, weren't they? But a moment later Fingers dismissed the idea of alerting them. It would cost him precious time to get them to believe the threat and even if he succeeded he doubted they would be able to do more than end up as another stain on Isirion's blade. He just had to exit the mansion as stealthily as possible, get on a dragon and fly away as far as he could.

 

Isirion stalked the floors and hallways in search of his prey. His senses were on high alert and his blade ready to strike down any obstacle in his path. He had already encountered two guards in front of some treasure room and made quick work of them but he still was no closer to finding Fingers. As he had no knowledge of the complete layout of the mansion he needed to outthink the thief in order to outrun him. Why did Fingers ran in the first place? Because something, most likely the sound of the slaughter had spooked him. From his experience from the first time pursuing this elusive target he knew Fingers wouldn't just run away. In the end he would try to cover his tracks and find a safe place to hide like he had done in the village. The safest way to do so would be to get on dragon back as fast as possible and fly in a direction the Nebs wouldn't be monitoring. But would a mansion full of dead dragons even have a stable? Isirion doubted it and then a realization made him double his pace. There was only one way to exit a guarded mansion like that in the middle of the night without arousing suspicion. If Fingers wanted a quick way out to find the nearest dragon stable without loosing time explaining everything to over-enthusiastic guards he had to use the front door.

Edited by Isirion

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Disappointment (and some disheartenment upon hearing that the Hooktalon she'd seen earlier was dead) covered up every part of Drake's plan as she was faced with another task. A huge distraction couldn't imply much else than a massive dragon... Relantia had been the greatest defense Drake could have asked for here, and now she had to offer the dragon as a cheap distraction to help some men she didn't plan on seeing ever again? They couldn't have missed the Royal Crimson, surely they knew there was a massive dragon nearby. So, no hiding or lies unless she wanted to throw any trust out the window and get a heavy load of suspicion in its place. She responded to the bear-like man with a nod and rushed off to tell Ezra and Relantia (but mostly Relantia) about the situation.

As mission-ready as Ezra looked, his mount was a very different image. Her entire body language seemed nonchalant, and Drake's approach led to Relantia's top set of teeth getting more exposed than many already were as her mouth was drawn back in a sort of draconian smile that would have looked a lot more like a snarl to anyone who hadn't seen it so many times. The dragon quieted her voice to the most silent she could manage (which wasn't much different from a human speaking in whisper-voice at average volume.) "Brave little Drake! It's been a while, yes? And I am very glad to see such a well-crafted set of armor on you- with those lovely crimson scales very reminiscent of something, ha! Did you come with orders? A notice to retreat?" Drake was annoyed at the volume, but dared not disrespect Relantia any less then she would have dared to disrespect the dragon's former rider. "Orders. We need a distraction for three people and dragons to escape the city with no attention from the Nebs... I think you'd be best for such a distraction." Nothing but a quick inhale was able to escape Relantia as Ezra responded instead at a more appropriate volume. "What!? Roxanne, Relantia and I came to be spotters for you, and I don't trust that man you invited along to protect you like I could! Who exactly are we helping here- I know that I haven't seen any of our comrades around here- and I have no reason to believe that you actually trust anyone you came here with but that cowar- that dragon of yours!" Seeing even in the dark the redness rising to Drake's face and her clenching fists at Ezra's last statement, Relantia interrupted. "Ezra, I can go alone for a distraction. All this time I've been the one guiding us... You can stay alone here if you really want to protect Drake so badly, eh?" Ezra did nothing but tense up as his grips on his sword and the saddle tightened. His voice cracked out, "Alone? Surely that's a... deathwish... Alright, fine. We'll both go." Relantia's wings began to stretch as her legs extended from their crouched position to show her full height. She looked to Drake, and said, "Tell them, whoever they are, that time is of the essence. My presence will be a distraction only for as long as it takes for those Nebula patrollers to realize that no Royal Crimson travels to a city like this without motives."

As a thunderclap-exit echoed throughout the nearby area, Drake was already running to the men to inform them of the distraction's beginning, if they hadn't already noticed the mass flying away.

 

Leon's attention snapped to the departing Royal Crimson. Then, it was just him, his wyvern, and Taellonn. That wasn't enough to watch for the man Drake warned of, and that scarred up Royal Crimson was probably the best counter to someone as threatening as Drake said. But, that didn't mean Leon had no chance. There'd be dragons outside; he could go inside the mansion to try to end the ordeal instead of having to dart around each exit. He signalled the wyvern to drop him off at the balcony and jumped down. He pat the side of her head before she pressed her head against him. "Spienz, you guard out here with Taellonn. You know what to do if you spot an exit from that man. I'm going inside." He stepped back and his statement was met with one quick nod from the Fever Wyvern as she ignored Taellonn and started on her own patrol of the mansion. He pulled out a knife for each hand and started navigating around as stealthily as he could, soon discovering a human slaughterhouse of a room. It looked almost like a dragon had attacked; though clean cuts from a blade told otherwise and the only real clue was claw marks he already knew the origins of. Well, no signs of life there, but at least it was a starting point...

Edited by Drakessis

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Fingers stopped. His feet had carried him all the way to the entrance of the mansion in order to leave this horrible place behind with no questions asked. At first he had wanted to try his luck with one of the windows, but the windowsills made of some poor unknown dragon species with a fitting hide had made him nauseous again. Now he was standing at the edge of the enormous mosaic that filled almost the whole entrance hall. It showed the Hassleborough crest - two rampant Gold Dragons facing each other on a silver shield and holding up a cup together. The edges of the heraldic shield adorned with vines made Fingers almost as sick as the shining new golden egg shell pieces that made up a large part of the dragons' raised front paws. Those accursed shells had ruined everything and turned his life into pure misery. As such it was no wonder he felt compelled to steal them once again to fund his new life. Alas tugging at the pieces with only one hand didn't do him much good and he soon abandoned the effort in order to keep his chance of getting out of the mansion alive. How close he had cut it, he only saw as the mansion door he had just closed behind him got pierced by a bloodstained blade at perfect spine-cutting height. If Fingers hadn't already been crouching down to sneak away from possible guards, he would have been nailed to the door. As he had been crouching, he now abandoned all stealth and ran for his life at a speed even a Whiptail Dragon wouldn't be ashamed of.

 

Pulling his blade out of the Colosus plates covering the door cost Isirion precious seconds and he wasn't really surprised that his target was nowhere to be seen by the time he had opened the massive door wide enough to slip out and check the mansion garden. Fingers had escaped him again and that didn't sit well with Isirion's already taxed temper. He barely resisted the urge to plunge his blade into the door again. How came he could kill almost any dragon that mansion was decorated with but not catch a single wretched thief?

 

In the mean-time at Isirion's hideout

 

Tension was slowly but steadily rising within the hide-out since not even the most exhausting of training sessions had been rewarded with a refill of the food throughs in the upper tiers of the cave. The habitants of the lower tiers were used to starving but eventually even they started to worry. The continued absence of their keeper meant no more forced fights, but also no more food and from that problem not even Torch was spared. The scarred wyvern took it upon himself to calm the population of the hideout and he even distributed the last of his own food to the weakest hatchlings. Afterwards he tried to convince the named Hellfires to continue their training to maintain the daily routine and avoid a panic. In the beginning that worked quite well and training had almost gotten back to normal for the adult and nearly adult Hellfires - right until his previous mate decided to stir up the hideout like a hornet's nest. The former Hellfire Queen Asura used Isirion's absence for her own goals and spread the rumour that the lack of food was punishment for the outcome of the most recent Hellfire Games. Did they not see that their keeper who valued strength so much would not be pleased with the current situation? And why should he be? A clearly inferior dragoness had cheated her way into Torch's cave. Another, already defeated dragoness, refused to leave her cave and even distracted other, superior dragons, from using the training areas whenever she showed up unbidden. In short, Asura called for a repetition of the Hellfire Games to re-establish her real power ranking among the females. So far no-one had dared to reject the proposition or even tell her that right now she was an even greater distraction to honest training efforts than the lack of food...

Edited by Isirion

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Spienz thought nothing of leaving that fidgety dragon by the balcony alone. He was grown, he could protect himself. If he couldn't? Well, that wasn't her fault for not knowing. Between slow wing flaps she let herself mostly glide around the mansion, a much slower method than she liked but quieter than quicker flaps. However, the moment she caught sight of the main entrance opening, she rushed over, debating whether to dive. The exiting figure didn't seem quite threatening- and the blade stabbing through the door behind them seemed much more fitting for her target. Not wanting to greet that blade herself with only a chance of striking, she decided to fly up to a safe spot on the roof and see if the blade's wielder would go outside and allow for an ambush. Hopefully the wielder would go far enough for her to aim more behind them. As Spienz thought, I'm no use to Leon if I'm dead...

As she first heard the door opening, Spienz counted on only having a few moments to plan her attack once the target was in view; this included where she'd hit, and what she'd do after. If she could drag a body to the roof, it was bound to go unnoticed until Nebs investigated, so no worry about guards now. But, seeing the target, all she could really identify was that blade she really didn't want plunged into her face if she went for a bite to drag them up the building, a quick whiff of blood that sent her nerves on edge and tail alert, and a cloak made of a material that she couldn't quite place. So taking away the body might not work the best- whatever. Leon and her would be gone soon enough, and Spienz really couldn't care less about what became of that warrior-woman she barely knew or that family backing her.

Suddenly a chance to strike presented itself and she dove down. Once it was all over Spienz barely remembered anything but actual feeling; no visuals, no sounds. It was just sharp wind pressing past her face as she descended, and the sudden gust beneath her wings as she rose again. With that gust was the snap of her tail, pushing forward towards what felt like the space between her victim's shoulder blades, though leaning towards the upper right so the wyvern could use her longest spine. She didn't seem to regain the rest of her senses until she was back hiding on the roof. Knowing her victim wouldn't have much time after the strike, she counted on a corpse being mostly unnoticeable in the dark and foliage. Peering back to where she'd left her victim showed that they were gone- probably back inside to at least die in security.

Spienz decided to start her flight around the mansion again, hoping Leon would go to or at least go near an exit so she could get him and fly off. Circling back around the balcony gave her nothing but a quick glance at the warrior-woman and that dragon, doing who-knows-what... Or could they be calling for her?

 

Drake had already run off to get back to Taellonn once she'd proved her 'trustworthiness' to the group. She probably would have had Taellonn fly off right then- that is, if she knew Isirion's condition, hadn't just sent out her brother as Neb bait, and knew where Leon and his wyvern were. Taellonn wasn't of much help, saying he'd been watching out for her the whole time, so Drake was left to go figure things out for herself. One clue started in the form of Leon's wyvern, who was still apparently patrolling, just riderless. When the wyvern started to approach the balcony Drake instructed Taellonn to get her attention, and he called in whatever whispery but attention-grabbing voice he could manage. It seemed to work, as the wyvern went down to the balcony, glaring at them.

Drake didn't hesitate to ask questions. "Where's Leon?" The wyvern shrugged. "Well what about the target? Do you know where he is?" The wyvern nodded. "Well where is he? Alive? Dead? Trap-" Another nod. "Alright, so dead?" Seeing no protest from the dragon Drake took that conclusion, relaxed to the degree someone could during something like this, and continued. "Do you at least have a general idea of where Leon is and could find him? We need to start organizing an exit." The wyvern nodded and gestured to the mansion with her snout. Drake figured that meant Leon was in the mansion. "...Alright then. You get Leon out and away from here, and we can find a better place to wait for Relantia and Ezra..." The wyvern began her search for Leon again, and Drake climbed onto Taellonn's back. She whispered, "I'd try to verify that the wyvern was... Telling, the truth and Isirion really is gone, but we can't afford to be caught sneaking around. So we'll just wait for Leon and his wyvern until we can organize something better." So that's it? Taellonn thought. We're left with no plan because Leon's stuck in the mansion and Drake thought it was fine to send off Relantia? I sincerely hope Drake gets whatever best case scenario she's imagining through sacrificing our best asset... Taellonn knew he really ought to be voicing his concerns to Drake, but now that Isirion was as good as dead and the egg shatterer himself was, it really didn't seem the time to create tension with Drake. Even if the whole situation now seemed to be a crapshoot, out of their hands and left to Leon, Ezra, and their dragons... He only offered the response of "Alright then," against his mind telling him to complain.

Edited by Drakessis

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Isirion couldn't believe what his body was telling him. Someone or rather something had managed to sneak up on him and stab him close to his spine between the shoulder blades. The wound didn't feel very deep but the waves of heat spreading from it like an infection told him it need not be because the damage had been done. Already he could feel the area around the shoulder blade go numb and he knew he didn't have much time left before he wouldn't be able to move at all. He had to find cover before the attacker decided to finish what he had started. Isirion forced his body to move back inside the mansion and close the door behind him. With his back against the massive Colossus plates he felt safe enough to pull back his cloak and twist his body to get a look a the wound. In the short time the skin around his right shoulder blade had taken on a distinct colouration that was spreading even now and told him beyond doubt that he had been stung by a Fever Wyvern's tail spine. Growing weaker by the second he knew he had only one chance to fight the poison - he had to burn it out completely. He summoned what was left of the energy of Hellfire Chimera and the pitch-black Pygmy that had tried to burn his face off and concentrated it in his left hand. To stop himself from screaming and giving away his position he bit down on his dragon skin cloak before he directed the fire on the wound and the affected area around. The Pygmy's fire was surprisingly potent and it hurt like the Hellfire's, burning off his skin and charring his flesh. In a moment of morbid irony the barbecued-like version of himself adorning Pride's arena came to his mind and he let out a deep death rasp laugh before he disappeared right there...

 

In the mean-time at Isirion's hideout

 

Using the strongest argument of all Asura had convinced most of the Hellfires that in order to not look weak they had to participate in her Hellfire Game. The dragoness had gathered everyone inside the agility training area and spoke to them proudly from one of the jumping platforms: "Fellow Hellfires, the time has come to prove once and for all who is strong and who is not. Less than fifteen minutes from now the fights will start in the great pit and when they are over we will know without a doubt who alone can claim the title of Hellfire Queen. Each fight lasts until there is a clear victor, killing your opponent is not allowed. The fighting pairs are matched up by the letter of your name. A fights B, C fights D or the closest letter available and so on. So far the contestants besides me are: Belia, Chimera, Kitty, Mean, Nasty and Twitch. Anyone else wants to join to avoid being labeled a weakling chicken for the rest of their presumably short lives once our keeper gets back?" Asura made a point to look at those Hellfires especially who hadn't made a choice yet - Lilith and Keahi.

Edited by Isirion

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Keahi watched Asura as she stood on the jumping platform, thoughts running through her head. A new Hellfire Game? Keahi felt her breath catching in her throat in both fear and delight. She had longed to be Torch´s queen ever since she first laid eyes on him as a wee little hatchling. But could she beat Asura and Belia? Keahi knew she was way way out of their league, but how could she not try? She was weak from lack of food, but that counted for all of them. This was her chance, maybe her only chance. And she knew the alternative. Hellfire Keahi straightened her back, lifted her chin and met Asura´s fierce look.

"I am in," she said passionately, "I want to participate in the new Hellfire Games!"

A thrill went up her spine. I said it. It´s final. Now I just have to give everything I've got, she thought shakily, feeling as she was dragged into a maelstrom she couldn't get out of. I can't do much else, after all. But I won´t give up without a real fight! But she was excited too. This ought to be some game!

Edited by tinti

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As Keahi proclaimed her participation, Hellfire Lilith gave her a concerned look, then she addressed Asura: "I will not participate in your little game. It is foolish to risk injuries when we already suffer from lack of food. However I am willing to help out as an impartial judge. Can you accept that?"

 

Asura grudgingly admitted that having a judge was a great idea and appointed Lilith to the position usually held by their keeper. A grin spread over her face as she realized that her Hellfire Games now had become a lot more official - even though that crafty Lilith had indeed managed to chicken out through that little trick at the last moment. Still grinning Asura called everyone back to attention and growled: "The first round of the game will be me against Belia. After that Chimera will have to prove her worth against Keahi. Kitty will compete against Mean next and last but not least Nasty and Twitch will fight it out."

 

Once Asura had finished her announcement she left the stage to fly straight to the pit. Hellfire Lilith used the time to move closer towards Keahi and whisper: "Why did you let her goad you into the fight? You must know you do not stand a chance against her or Belia even if you manage to somehow beat Chimera. And I bet Nasty and Mean are only in to inflict some long-term injuries on their rivals. What could you possibly gain from this pointless fight?"

Edited by Isirion

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Keahi’s stomach dropped and regret settled in over her thoughts as she listened to Lilith’s question. What had she actually done? Had she let her heart take control of her head again? Still, what other options was there for her except to agree to the games? She shook her head to clear it.

"For me it’s not as much about what I can gain by participating, but more what I can lose if I don’t. You heard Asura talk about what would become of those "cowards" who refuse. I don’t care if anyone calls me a coward or a chicken, but I do care if i loose my life. I care weather or not I have a chance at happiness down the road. Sharing Torch’s cave was always my dream, and why I agreed to participate in the first place. Even I realize that I have next to no chance to do that, but I want more than the little time I’ve got so far." She bowed her head gently. "I think what you just did was quite brave and sensible, I´m just not sure if I can afford to do the same. Either way I guess I’ll be facing a deadly danger,"

She struggled to keep the tone light and nonchalant towards the end of the last sentence. No-one likes a crybaby after all, especially not around here. What a mess she had gotten herself into, though!

You’re a fool, Keahi! Why couldn´t you just be content with a few years of this life and declare yourself a coward? But no, those dreams of yours are getting in the way of your judgement. Do you really think you have a chance? she chastised herself. But it didn't do any good. Giving up had never been an option for Keahi. So she gave a little sigh in resignation and decided to hope for the best and go for gold.

 

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Keahi's answer seemed to satisfy Lilith somewhat as the dragoness seemed quite content accompanying her to the great pit. Despite just having declared herself to be an impartial judge, the Hellfire volunteered one advice after another for the coming fight: "You are actually lucky to fight Chimera. Out of all the contestants she is the only one who hasn't constantly trained her body in the various training areas because she literally had jumped the queue. Also I think she hasn't developed a real strategy yet because her fear of death and her passion for Torch overrule everything else. If you actually plan on succeeding her position you need to beat her without getting injured or expanding to much strength because your next opponent will be either Belia or Asura. Your only chance is that those two most likely will exhaust each other in their fight rather than giving up because none of them can afford to loose again." Upon reaching the pit Hellfire Lilith smiled broadly at Keahi and said: "You know, however this fight will turn out, I hope that we can stay on friendly terms. I have no interest in ever winning the right to mate with Torch so I won't be a rival to you." Not caring whether Keahi believed her words or not, Lilith left to take her place as a judge in the fight between Belia and Asura.

 

In the mean-time at Pride's arena

 

Isirion had reappeared in the preparation quarters and immediately found himself a wall to steady himself against. Taking deep breaths he assessed his body's condition again. Traces of the Fever poison were still in his blood stream and affected his movement and reaction speed. The skin on the right side of his neck, collarbone and shoulder blade was burnt black and dead to the touch. Slowly raising his right arm that still held his blade, Isirion tried a few stabs to get used to his current body state. Not feeling anything from the shoulder but seeing the muscles work was very strange and slightly unsettling. Lowering his blade again, Isirion decided to call it a night and make his way to his resting spot. Tomorrow he would try to figure out what exactly had happened. He pulled his cloak back over his shoulder, effectively concealing most of the burn damage and went straight for his spot. Like the rest of the floor it was occupied with various sleeping people and dragons. Isirion identified the people he had rescued from the arena, Pride and the green-haired lady but there was also one who didn't belong. Apart from being awake in the dead of night, he was crouching down next to Hal and Cal, carefully checking their faces. The man was clad in black, carrying a concealed weapon and did not look like a groom at all. That made him an intruder and Isirion knew how to deal with those. Moving carefully around the floor occupants, he sneaked up on the intruder and tried to stab him in the back, but the man was good. He had sensed something and turned at the last second. Thus the blade only grazed his side and the man jumped back and drew his own weapon. Isirion cursed his still affected movement speed and aimed to disarm his target to prevent himself from getting injured again this night. The intruder withdrew even further and quickly threw a knife immediately followed by another. Isirion managed to deflect the first knife but the second hit him right in the already wounded shoulder. Letting out a furious scream like a raging Hellfire Isirion charged his attacker and stabbed him right in the heart before he could pull out another weapon. The intruder dropped dead and crushed on the floor, almost taking the pitch-black Pygmy with him, that had slept protectively close to it's green-haired keeper.

Edited by Isirion

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