Extraho Veho Vita (DragonRider Life): IC

[BeauteousDeath]

Prologue

Once upon a time Dragons flew across the land. . .


Gods that “Once upon a time” is so clichéd and over used, yet I need to start somewhere. The story of the Dragon Riders certainly doesn’t start with me, my name, just so you know, is Caitriona Laoch. Most call me Cait for short, and I was the leader of the Riders. The “was” bit will be explained at another time, that is, if you continue reading, you’ll find out why. As far as I’m concerned, the story of the Dragon Riders ends with me, but I’m getting ahead of myself here, I need to take you back to the beginning, or close to it. Humans didn’t always live on Nix’t Astal, somewhere around four thousand years ago it was only Dragons. Dragons flew across the continent of what is now called Nix’t Astal, they ruled it, fought each other for it, and loved it.

Dragons are the biggest creature on the planet that is made purely of magic. It was because of this magic that most of the land was fertile, welcoming. Everything they touched was made into perfection, or very close to it. This is not to say that the entire land was bountiful because of the Dragons. Not at all. In fact, there was a part of the land that is near inhabitable for most Dragons, and other living creatures. Sentient and non-sentient alike. This brings us to the quick topic of there being more than one kind of Dragon.

In the land that is near inhabitable is the North, is the biggest and fiercest of the Dragons. Naur Khelek, which is Elven for Fire Ice. An apt name for the land, if I do say so myself. The reason the name is fitting is because it literally describes the north. In the more habitable regions, it is covered in snow and ice. The wind blows so hard that without shelter, you would freeze to death in a matter of seconds. Deadly winter is the one and only season there. Those particular regions fall toward the southernmost borders of the north. In the northernmost region lays active volcanoes. There are mountainous ranges that circle around these volcanoes, forming a valley and a barrier of sorts, an almost natural protection to the icy snow part of Naur Khelek.
I say almost because it has been there for so long that it has become a part of the land, but it was originally formed by Dragon magic. You see, the Dragons that live there are the Sonear di wer Vaslakni, Dragon for Eater of the Universe. The dragons are the largest of all, and the fiercest of all. I know I said this before, I just thought I’d remind you, as well as drill it into your head. The size of one of these dragons, on average, is beyond belief. The head, often the shape of a rectangle, but more defined into a lizard like shape, is usually the size of two large barns. I’m talking the width being around two hundred feet, the length being twice the width, with the muzzle coming to a rounded shape. The heads are often decorated with horns and spikes, and come in varying colors of snow white, to blacker than night. Their bodies are certainly proportionate to their heads; after all, it needs to support that huge head of theirs, right? Large and muscular, yet sleek enough to be some of the fastest fliers, maybe not the quietest, those wings of theirs always sound like a thunder clap with each beat.

Anyways, in terms of how large their bodies are, well, why don’t we just say they could crush a town with the populace of ten thousand, with just one hand. Those hands, by the way, are always ended with claws half the length of their hands. Their necks are often somewhat elongated, not as much as some Dragons, but perhaps more so than others. You have an idea of how big these creatures of magic are? Good. Moving forward then. The Sonear live off the lava of the volcanoes. It keeps them warm, it sustains them, and it empowers them. They can hunt for their food like any other creature, but they end up having to eat mass quantities and they knew this. So they found a primary food source, the same that feed them their magic, their energy. The lava. Problem of food running out just because of the Sonear was solved.

Because of their size, and their ability to feed magic into themselves easily, as well as keep it in them for so long without having to return to the source, they ended up to be considered the leaders of all Dragon kind. Thankfully it didn’t go to their heads too much, just enough to make some of them annoying due to their superior attitude, but not so much as to be a hindrance. Let us also be thankful there have never been very many of them. For every one that dies, one is hatched. There is always only twenty of the Sonear around, and that brings us to the conclusion of Naur Khelek and the Sonear. At least for the moment.

The rest of the Dragons are between a quarter to half the size of the Sonear. I suppose we can start with any of them, and learning about the types of Dragons, you learn about Nix’t Astal. So we shall go to the western part of the continent. I’ Dor en Coia ar Gurth, The Land of Life and Death. Again, the name is Elven. I believe you can safely assume that Elves were the first of “man” on this land, you would be half right; we’ll get into that later though. I’ Dor en Coia ar Gurth is also an apt name for the western bit of Nix’t Astal. It is full of life, but it is deadly. It can be deadly because of some of the life, and because it is nothing but swamp and marsh. Always hot and humid and therefore sticky and unbearable, but teeming with creatures of all sizes both prey and predator. The Svanan Ingellarar, Dragon for Mud Dweller, live here.

The Svanan are fairly small. From tail tip to the tip of their nose they would be about the size of a Sonear’s head, but they quick, and stealthy. The fly so quietly that you wouldn’t know they were there until you were up in the air with them. They draw their power from their swamps, and vary in coloring from muddy brown to emerald green. Gorgeous creatures they are. Aside from that, my knowledge of these Dragons is limited. Other than they are languid and sneaky, and have a wicked sense of humor that I love.

So I suppose that brings us to the south. Dor ar I’ Bein, Land of The Beautiful, and beautiful it was. Lush meadows, rolling hills, perfect weather with seasonal changes. Summers are breezy with an occasional shower, and enough heat to make a person sleepy, springs that are full of showers to water the crops of farmers, colorful falls, with leaves turning every shade of green, orange, red, yellow and brown imaginable, with the temperature starting to chill. Then winters that are cold, and full of snow. The Vorel Tilsin, Beautiful Lizard, live here in Dor ar I’ Bein. They vary in every color imaginable, and are about the same size as the Svanan, some are bigger, some are small, but none are as big as the Sonear. Not even close. They’re the quickest fliers, not as stealthy. The Vorel are also very playful, to the point of immaturity. It doesn’t seem to matter how old they become, they are forever as playful as kittens, but they can also be very protective, and fierce. So you would want to stay on their good side.

And we now conclude with the east. I’ Dor ar Lith, The Land of Sand. It is desert land there, hot and dry. Barely any seasonal changes. The Inik Tilsin, Sand Lizard, owns this. They’re about half the size of a Sonear, and can be quite vicious, and highly territorial. They take pride in the scarring, much as the Sonear do, but probably more so. I suppose one could say they’re of a barbaric nature.

Alright, you have a general idea of the lands now, as well as the types of Dragons. So we shall move on. The Dragons lived in this manner for hundreds of years, playing, hunting, perfecting anything and everything. Then the Elves and Dwarves came. They traveled from their homelands together to start a new life, to explore, to have an adventure, or so the tale goes. At first, everything was peaceful. The Dragons kept to themselves for the most part, a few would venture close to the new creatures that sailed to the shores of Nix’t Astal, curious of the new culture and strange things that were brought. Thankfully, the Elves and Dwarves knew nothing of the Dragon’s existence, seeing as how the Dragons never approached close enough to send alarm to their “visitors”. If they had been seen, and killed then and there without there being to seem any provocation from the Dragons, things would have turned out very different.

As it was, it was weeks before the Elves and Dwarves realized there Dragons on the land. Their first reaction was, of course, fear, I can’t say as I blame them. After all, what would you do if you encountered such a ferocious looking beast? In their fear, they did take up arms and would have started fighting, if the Vorel hadn’t flown out of there so quickly. From that point on, the Dragons were more cautious of these “visitors”. Unfortunately, it was soon found out that the Dragons were magic. Made of magic. They didn’t know the extent of the usage of magic by the Dragons. As far as the Elves and Dwarves were concerned, the Dragons were simply stupid animals. A species they wanted to now hunt, so they could harness the magic of the Dragons.
Over the next one thousand years, the Elves and Dwarves grew in numbers, and started claiming land as their own. Also, they were at war with the Dragons. The Elves wanted the Dragons because the magic could increase their own, and the Dwarves wanted it to also increase their own abilities and to better forge their weapons. But when the Dragons were killed off, their magic disappeared. Then a Dwarf had a brilliant idea of capturing a Dragon alive. This proved harder that he’d thought but to capture one alive, then found a way to drain it of its essence, its magic, and its life force.

The Sonear di wer Vaslakni were enraged, and tried to keep all but two of their kind out of the fight. Now though, since the Elves and Dwarves were now not only killing Dragons, but also capturing and torturing their species, all twenty showed and ended up decimating the Dwarves settlement. Finally contact had been made, though the Sonear were still enraged, they were rational enough to show the remainder of the Dwarves and the Elves that Dragons were indeed sentient. They had families, a culture, a structured society, homes, friends, thoughts and ambitions. Everything the Elves and Dwarves had, the Dragons had too.

It was difficult to make this first attempt of communication, but the Sonear were as stubborn as they were large. It was Alphaios the Unchanging that took the first and biggest step. In an attempt to make communication, for the Dragons couldn’t, in anyway be able to shape with their reptilian lips the same vowels and consonants as the Elves and Dwarves. Something needed to be done to make communicating possible though, correct? Yes it did. So Alphaios connected with an Elf by the name of Huor Ancalímon with magic, through Alphaios’ mind to Huor’s mind.
The connection was so deep, so intense, that not only did they understand one another immediately; they felt the physical pain, strain, emotional anguish the other felt. Alphaios did something that day, he chose the First Rider. From that point on, the Dragons, Elves and Dwarves lived in wary peace. Eventually that peace grew less and less tense, but it was another century before Huor and Alphaios convinced their respective species that if Dragons took on more Riders, casting a spell that would choose only the best and most noble of creatures from birth, would be a good thing.

Alphaios and Huor were joined, their souls were as one. They went everywhere with one another, yet remained enough of individuals that the friends and families who knew them before the connection had been made, could see enough of the former Elf and Dragon to see they were still there, attempts had been made to break Alphaios’ spell, but had to be stopped completely when they nearly killed the pair.

It was after one hundred years of this when the Dragons and Elves finally relented. The Dwarves wanted no part of this, but offered to make armor and weaponry. Fairly typical if you ask me, they’re cavern dwellers; they prefer to be encased in a mountain or underground. Though I have taken a Dwarf up on my Aeton’s back before, I must say, his reaction was comical, Aeton thought so too. Back on topic, a few of the most powerful of each type of Dragon, and the most powerful of the Elves communed together, making the same connection as Alphaios made on Huor, on each other.

Thus the legacy of the Dragon Riders was born. It was agreed they would keep the peace between Dragons and Elves and Dwarves. That they wouldn’t take ruling positions, but instead, offer neutral assistance, they would never take a side, unless one proved to be blatantly wrong. If a Dragon and Rider were to fight, then it would be to end a war on both sides, doing everything they can to be sure it was a peaceful ending.

Future Riders were to be born with a Mark. This can take the form of anything resembling a Dragon. A scale where skin would be, Dragon eyes instead of Elven, or a birthmark that would resemble a Dragon, or part of a Dragon. My own is actually a large birthmark on my back, it covers it completely, and looks more like a tattoo of my Aeton. Supposedly, those who were born with The Mark, have vast potential for greatness, if you keep reading this, then you’ll know we have recently found out otherwise.

This continued on for close to a thousand years, and then something unexpected happened. A Rider was Chosen by a Dragon. She had never been born with The Mark; nothing Marked her at all as a Rider. She looked plain, as plain as an Elf could look that is, but her Dragon Chose her. It had never happened before, and she showed that being Chosen was just as good, if not better, than it was to be a Marked Rider.

Eventually Humans settled onto Nix’t Astal, though it had been made clear by the Elves that their species would never be born as Marked Riders that they would have to be Chosen. The Elves, were arrogant to say the least, they didn’t expect that the spell that had been cast over a thousand years ago would evolve to Mark anyone who had some kind of potential, no matter the species. Though I admit, the spell, once it acquired a life of its own, has never Marked a Dwarf, thank the Gods for that too. We would hear nothing but complaints and deal with highly anxious Dwarves.

I'm rambling though. We'll simply get the rest of the story started, shall we?

* * * * *

Chapter One

Caitriona Laoch was bored out of her mind. Nothing unusual for her considering she was in the middle of a Council meeting. Chestnut coppered, curly hair was in its usual fashion of intricate braiding and twists to keep it off of her neck and out of her face. She wore a linen tunic the color of the forest with a leather vest. Her long legs, covered in leather breaches, were stretched out under the table as she slouched in her seat, her feet encased by leather and metal plated boots, crossed at the ankles. Listening to the heated debate of alliances formations. As of that time, the Dragon Riders had no alliances. Yes, there were people who were being suppressed by “King Connor” and supported the Riders, but they were all afraid of being put down by the King’s Army. Something she wanted to fix immediately, but she’d have to be patient for now. They needed back up from alliances to come into Dor ar I’ Bein.

The problem was, no one seemed willing to back the Riders up. The other parts of Nix’t Astal didn’t seem willing to chance defeat by the self-proclaimed King Connor. They kept saying that it was only the Riders and Dragons that the king wanted dead, so why should they involve themselves?
They didn’t get the fact that once the Dragon Riders were defeated, wiped out, the other nations would be next. Along with the Dragons that were in those areas. In spite of the fact that they were Rider less. The Dragons with the Riders were all located in Dor ar I’Bein, in the middle of the Elven forest, Alliobryandan. In the middle of that forest was clearing that was hard to get to unless one knew the forest, or unless one was in the air. That was where Extraho Servo was. The Dragon’s Keep.

The Keep was a very large tower, large enough to have held thousands of Dragons and their Riders and still have room for visitors. These days though, it was nearly deserted. The thought often put Rider Laoch in a melancholy mood. Zeus picked up on it immediately, even though he was out hunting, miles away, their bond was stronger than most. He did what he could to keep her spirits up, just as she did with him. At times that seemed to a legendary feat.

“Rider Laoch, what do you think of the proposed idea?” Rider Khael asked, a grizzled old warrior who looked to be in his fifties with iron gray hair and matching eyes, bringing Caitriona out of her thoughts. Thankfully she had been paying enough attention to have been listening to what was going on around her. The idea that Khael was asking about was going to I’ Dor en Coia ar Gurth, the nomads were more liable in joining the Riders than anyone else, if approached correctly. Caitriona liked the idea, especially since they did have a few nomads that were Marked or Chosen Riders.

She nodded at the idea, “It is just a matter of convincing them, once we do, hopefully others will be more willing, considering the Nomads are the most fierce with a blade,” she said in her alto pitched voice. The tone was slightly flat, more out of boredom than anything. After all, they had gone through this many times over. She stood then, to her full height of six feet, “I think we’re done for the day, we’ve gone over this way too many times,” she said then, looking at each of the other eleven council members, including Khael, “there is such a thing as being over cautious,” she finished.

Without waiting for an agreement from anyone else, she walked out of the room. She was tired, and just needed to get moving around. The floor they were on, which was the topmost of the Keep, was usually busy. Today was no exception.

[inDefiance]

The ordeal in the meeting chambres had been just like her hair: tidy, straight-forward, well-done and pleasant... yet with loose ends that always seemed to bother her. An upward jet of air she blew to remove the annoying lock of dark crimson from tickling her eyelash. Normally, her hair would have been locked up tight in perfectly combed braids, their lengths trickling down her armoured back... complete with signature white, blue-tipped flowers interwoven near the ends and tying up said ends.

The tall and armour-clad mystic-blade had said her piece and been excused. And of course the council was asking for the backing of her sister mystic-blades: The Wardens of Fierce Mercy. And of course she stated that they would have the backing of her circle. They bore the DragonStar upon their every item, whether forged, weaved or painted, the symbol always held true for the Wardens. But their line of questioning, interrogation really, grated at her nerves, tensing her strong musculature along her womanly physique. For this time, they did not ask of Aemelie, Nadine and Evelyn, the elders and spiritual leaders of the Wardens. No, they only asked of Sharienne's answers and approval alone.

Grey eyes brooded with storms before her long lashed lids captured them, a furrow of mahogany eyebrows holding them closed. Full, pouty lips pouted even further into a frown as she took a deep breath. A gloved hand slowly wiped from one cheek, across her proud nose, and over to the other cheek as if trying to wipe away the light smattering of freckles upon her ivory skin. But no, this was Shar's mannerism when she felt like something was going on, something more than meets the eye. Something going on behind closed doors.

Grey eyes snapped open as the door to the chambres opened. Her pupils dilated as she caught the sight of a woman, as tall as Shar exiting then closing the chambre door with a polite dull thud. It was Caitriona Laoch, the 'leader' of the Extraho Veho, the Dragon Riders.

Her flowing brown hair was showered with coppery highlights, shining like the metallic sheen off a dragon's scales, framing her pale scarred face. One might say that her visage was marred with such an unsightly travesty to beauty. But the corners of Sharienne's mouth upturned a bit, a light flash of white, peeking between lush pink lips hinting her thoughts on the matter.

Shar might say that Cait's scar was more like a flaw within a gem, a precious stone enduring rough handling. And to her, really the scar was a message more than a flaw really: Without the flaw upon this gem's face, then any man should seek to claim and own her, like a gem ready to be set and sealed into a ring. With the flaw upon this gem's face, then any man who would seek to claim and own her should be ready to wear a collar around its neck; beware the sharp shards from a flawed gem.

Suddenly she made an inward hiss and withheld a groan of displeasure as the small blue, insect-winged thing landed upon her shoulder and inserted the stinger at the tip of its tail into the vertebrae of her neck. 'Hello, big sister...' said a bubbly giggly voice in her head, 'perhaps my big sister here should really close her gaping mouth and shed the gawking look upon her face? Perhaps?'

Shar closed her mouth and turned her head, grey eyes narrowing as hers met the cartoonishly large grey eyes of Ahmbrisahn as the Vorel Tilsin in her 'Dragonette' form sat upon her pauldron. But the playful giggle in her head and the cuteness of the little thing, claws interlocked and tucked underneath her tufted blue chin, smirking like a devil, melted any aggressive tone she would have held for her sister Dragon. And who knew that such a magnificent magical creature could ever be such a silly, cheeky little goofy thing? Such a darling pair they made.

'Hello, yourself Ahmi. And I am not the 'big sister' here. You are, silly.' was her thoughts sent back to the little dragon via the tail to spine link.

'Shar-Sharry-Star, when I am full sized and you are on my back, you thrust that silly metal thing--'

'That 'silly metal thing' is named Helanna. And those kinds of 'silly metal things' mean a lot to me and my Warden sisters. That 'silly metal thing' connects me to magicks and to you and your magicks as well, Ahmbrisahn--'

'Fine, fine. Catty,catty much-miuch, Sharry, sharry? Anyways. So you thrust your Helanna blade into my spine and call me big sister when you ride me... so now, my turn. Ahmbrisahn is riding Sharienne now, jabbing her Helanna tail into your spine... so there, I get to call you: 'big sister' since you are larger than me... for the time being...'

'Ahmi... I love you with all my heart, I do, darling, however, please do tell me what is the point of this conversation? Please do tell.'

'Oh, Sharry-Star, I love you with all that I am too, however... ummmm... perhaps there is no point to this conversation... but of note, your 'sharded gem' is getting away, darling.'

'I beg my Dragon's pardon? Are you digging into my thoughts?'

'Beg then for Human's sakes. No, I am not digging. And stop checking out how her rump moves in time with her hips, Sharry-Star... you rump-looker...'

'Oh for the DragonStar, Ahmi! Honestly now! I am only gauging her armour and getting a feel for its make and quality, darling!'

'Oh for the Sharry-Star, Sharry-Star! Honestly, you humans... if you really want to get a feel for it then go on, darling... go on and get a 'feel' for 'it...' A wink and a sly grin.

'Ahmi! Honestly, that is not what I—' An appalled look and heated, pinked cheeks.

Then why does my darling blush...?' A sly raise of an eyebrow.

'Oh I assure you, I am not--' A further pinking spreading heat throughout the rest of her face.

'Too late, Shar-Sharry-Star, she's turning around!'

Behind pursed lips, the red-faced mystic-blade grit her teeth as she quickly smoothed out the rest of her appearance. Then a gloved hand held the pommel of her conduit blade, Helanna, as her other hand grasped at the talisman of the DragonStar at her breastplate, proud helm tucked in the crook of her arm. Ahmbrisahn straightened out her blue frame, and sat in a more respectable pose upon Shar's shoulder. A quick demure bow of their heads, both holding their respective pairs of grey eyes closed, they greeted the Grande Rider of Zeus.

"Hail to you, Rider Laoch," she said with much pleasantry and respect in her soft, husky tone of voice. Then after a pause lasting a heartbeat, she raised her chin and her gosling grey eyes met the lush green pair of Caitriona's. The sound of of footfalls were swallowed up by the hubbub of this floor as she made her way over to the woman with coppery highlighted hair. The brightness of her heated cheeks faded, if only slightly as Ahmi said nothing in her head, only the hum of encouragement and warmth to her sister Human. "How fare the talks in chambres? Any movements at all, or, if I may ask so boldly, does my Grande Rider seek to make other arrangements to move talks along?"

[ladybella]

'Good Morning my love, I shall join you in the practice yard in one hour, my breakfast was being extremly illusive today,' Zephyr's loud, grating voice sounded in Perrry's head as she sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

'I shall be waiting Sky King,' She answered him, via their connection and hopped out of her bed, her movements fluid and effortless. Perry looked at herself in her mirror, taking stock on her appearance. Although she didn't age like humans, Perry swore she looked older everyday. Zephyr told her she was just being vain, but she couldn't help it. Her long, black hair cascaded down her back, nearly touching the floor. As far as she could tell her hair was not lightening, she was a young elf, and had always been a small one at that. She only stood at five foot three, and barely weighed one hundred pounds, while both of her parents were tall, sleek and heavy beings. Perry's mother blamed it on the dragons, she didn't have a good enough reason so she came up with that one. Her emerald eyes stared back at her, criticizing herself, taking in every detail to determine if something had changed overnight. Her eyes landed on her dragon mark, on her left arm. Looking something like a tattoo, the dragons head rested on her shoulder, while the body stretched the length of her arm, the tip of the tail ending at the tip of her ring finger. The dragon seemed to be in a loving embrace, something that she felt explained the way she felt towards her dragon. He was her partner, her best friend, and the one being she counted on.

Perry turned away, sighing and went to wash and dress. She chose a black pair of breeches, and a cream colored tunic. Brushing out her hair took most of her time while getting ready, though she did it happily. She would be devestated if her hair was somehow cut off. Once it was smooth and glossy, Perry began to braid it. First, three separate braids, two starting on either side of her head, and one from the middle, then she braided those into one single braid straight down her back. Once this feat was accomplished, she strapped on her leather boots and her sword and left her room.
The Dragon's Keep was a large place. One could get lost if they weren't careful, though Perry knew it well enough to get where she wanted to go. Her first stop was the kitchen, for some bread and cheese, then she made her way to the practice yard. Where her beautiful Zephyr was sunning himself as he licked the remenants of his breakfast off of his claws.

'Ah there you are, oh vain one,' Zephyr said, a glint in his eye. Perry smiled, patting him on the nose carefully.

'I take pride in my appearance, I must, If I am your rider I must look the part, don't you think?' She asked him. He didn't respond, but made a humming noise that Perry had figured meant he was pleased with what she had said.

Perry walked to his side and jumped up on his back, patting his side with her hand. Zephyr stood and unfolded his wings, stretching them out as far as they would go. Perry glanced down at his left wing, where a scar remained from their training accident. Another dragon had come from out of no where and barreled into the pair, pushing them down to the ground until they hit, breaking Zephyr's wing under his weight and the force of the other dragon. The pain had been unbearable for both the dragon and his rider, and the dragon responsible never gave a reasoning to his actions and vowed he would never tell. The injury made Perry and Zephyr's training longer, but the dragon had recovered, only suffering minor stiffness when it was cold, and a little pain before a large storm hit.

[Chyoko]

Rushing air blew across Lilium’s face, the sun glaring off the white clouds. She crouched upon an oil black back, beating wings propelling dragon and rider ever faster. They sliced through clouds, so high in the sky an onlooker would think they were but a bird. A smirk crossed her petite face as a tower rose into view.

Let’s make a scene Vutha. A growl echoed through the massive chest of her dragon as he flipped. Lilium’s feet fell out from under her, the solid muscle of her dragon no longer supporting the assassin. The rapidly approaching earth made her heart skip a beat, no matter how many times she had done this.

She felt a pair of claws dig into her shoulders and lower back; oily wings spreading over her arms, and a tail rapping tightly across her leg. Lilium’s arms rose and beat down hard once, and she touched down without a sound.

The few people around to see her startling landing, bristled when they recognized who it was. Lilium had been called her not for the war, though most likely she would be asked to help, but because of her unique circumstances. She had been labeled the Double Rider, a traitor to her first dragon. But she didn’t mind, scalding glares were worth the relationship she had with Vutha.

They should consider themselves lucky, many have done much less to become my meal. the black dragon growled, causing everyone to quickly glance away. Lilium just smirked as she waltzed into the keep.

She took her time getting to the topmost floor of the keep, but by the time she did, she felt even smaller than usual. She spotted to women in general that were nearly a foot taller than her, and chuckled. The bigger they are, she started, waiting for her Vutha to finish.

The better I eat.

[Deamonbane]

A blade flashes in the air, spinning, twirling, and thrusting, the wielder a lithe young man, well built, with slim hips, broad shoulders, and toned muscles dripping in sweat, as he wields a blade shirtless. The short blade was clean, perfectly balanced, and wielded by an expert. It gleamed in the early morning air, cutting down imaginary foes with ease. His feet moved in perfect synchronization with his body, dodging roots, swellings and depressions in the leaf-covered forest floor. Practice made perfect, he knew, and lack of practice made a person soft and slow. Although Morgoth did most of the killing in battle, he liked to be sharp. Morgoth didn't understand the concept of subtlety, unless he was playing some sort of trick on somebody. Oh yeah, then he was plenty subtle, until the trap was sprung, and he would laugh so loud that all the birds in a mile radius fly for cover. They didn't think it was a laugh, you see.

He ended the imaginary fight flawlessly, just before he heard the flapping sounds of the giant wings belonging to Morgoth. The creature landed hard, shaking the ground, but Harad was used to it. He didn't duck like most people did when the giant, fire-breathing monster arrived with all the stealth of a tidal wave. He only smiled, waved, and ran over to his friend. He jumped on the creature's head, punching it in a friendly fashion. The armor of scales on his body would make sure that all punishment bounced right off.

The dragon snorted, and lifted his head, tossing Harad into the air, and sending him sprawling in a pile of leaves, and laughed when he got back up.

"Thanks," Harad growled, and the dragon laughed harder," Are good to go now?" The beast nodded, the evidence of his recent kills in his breath. Harad cringed, and covered his nose," One of these days, I'm going to have to teach you to brush your teeth." He picked up his shirt, and swords, and jumped up onto Morgoth's back," Okay, let's find that place that they sent us to, and help those mutts however we can.

Morgoth snorted his approval of the plan, and beat his wings on the ground. He took a running leap, and was airborne.

[BeauteousDeath]

Caitriona turned in the direction of the voice, her slender right eyebrow arched slightly as she took in the sight that was Shar. This wasn’t the first time she’d been called by her former title, and she figured it wouldn’t be the last.

“I am not Grande Rider any longer,” she reminded the woman gently, “and talks in the chambers are long and arduous and above all else, tedious,” she then replied. She made a gesture with her right hand, slender and long fingered, as if to say for Shar to walk beside her, and started walking in the direction she’d been headed before the Mystic Swordswoman interrupted her thoughts. Or lack thereof.

“The council is attempting to figure out the best way to approach I’ Dor en Coia ar Gurth to make an alliance. Without allies, we’ll lose the war with Conor, and the Riders along with the Dragons, will become extinct. Nix’t Astal will fall into chaos, and all will be suppressed by their self-proclaimed King,” Caitriona continued along in a terse voice, the tone becoming more and more flat.

“My fault I suppose,” she said as she gave Shar a sidelong glance and a shrug of her left shoulder, “After all, if I didn’t relinquish my position as Grande Rider and Leader, and instead reinstate the Council, I’d be over in I’ Dor en Coia ar Gurth right now negotiating terms,” she continued on as she turned her gaze back to where she was going, which was the balcony it seemed. Except it wasn’t really a balcony, it was more of a landing pad, large enough and sturdy enough for any Dragon, except for a Sonear di wer Vaslakni, there hadn’t been very many Riders who’d been bonded to a Sonear di wer Vaslakni at any given time, just one or two usually.

“If it were up to me, Shar, I’d already be there, or have had sent someone there to negotiate terms,” Cait finally finished as she walked out onto the balcony. They were high up, so it was a little colder, considering it was summer however, it wasn’t a bad thing, especially with the light wind that was blowing around them, causing the few loose strands of Cait’s hair to float around her shoulders and face. Her expression was blank; it seemed to be her usual expression. The only times she actually had an expression was when her daughter was around her. That wasn’t the case right now though; Astrid was down on one of the lower levels of the Keep, being watched by other Riders that were not in the Council.

Out in the distance, one could hear something like a thunder clap, even though the skies were clear. It was quiet at first, and regular. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand. One could make it all the way to ten one thousand before hearing the next clap. Cait knew it was Zeus on his way back from hunting. She also knew it would be a few minutes before he would be at the balcony. She turned to look at Shar once again, “Have you suggestions to our dilemma?” She asked, curious for the answer, perhaps it would spark an idea that Cait could take back to the Council when it re-convened the next day.

For now, Caitriona Laoch, former Grande Rider, current Council member, stood there, waiting for her Zeus to arrive, and awaiting an answer from Shar. Out of the corner of her eye she saw another, a girl, but didn't react, and wouldn't, until approached.

[Callthecops]

The Council meeting seemed to go on forever, despite the urgency with which the Riders needed to act. It seemed as if every time somebody came up with a new plan, there was someone waiting at the ready to shut it down. However, there was one man who never spoke up throughout the entire meeting; Charon, the Anvil of the East, stood quietly in a corner and listened. His face held no expression, and his eyes betrayed no hinst as to his thoughts on the present matter. In truth he had only one, ‘What are these imbeciles thinking?’

Every moment that the Council wasted on their words, King Connor’s power continued to grow. Charon understood the need to make plans and talk things over; it was a simply reality of life, people are always afraid of something. Afraid of acting too soon… Afraid that their plans won’t work… Afraid of making a decision… His own people were the worst of all; the length of the Elven lifespan convincing them that they had all the time in the world. Charon had hoped having a human lead up the Council would help the Riders to start seeing the need for action, but she had surrendered her position, and it seemed as if even she had already fallen prey to the illusion of time.

King Connor was just an ordinary man however, he knew that he only had another forty years at most left to make his mark on the world; and the mark he intended to leave was quite the ambitious one at that. If the man wanted all the Dragon Riders dead by the time he died, the King would have to work fast. Not to mention whatever plans that the man may have had for afterwards, the human surely had no time to waste.

The Anvil understood that his was a voice that carried little weight within the Council chambers, and that they had only given him his role of Military Advisor out of respect for his service. It would have been futile for him to speak up about his opinions, however, Charon was not willing to give up on the Riders just yet… Once the meeting was over, he made his way up the rear stairs and out onto the roof, hoping to catch one of the Council members and speak to them privately before they left. Lo and behold, as he emerged out onto the landing platform, the Battlemage came across Caitriona Laoch, the former Grande Rider herself, accompanied by the Mystic Blad who had appeared before the Council earlier that day.

They would likely hear him before they saw him, the thick Dragonhide of his boots and armor beating against the floor with a soft thud after each footfall. His armor was a medium grey color, and extenuated the enormous Elf’s size, coupled with the bearskin cloak that hung over his shoulders. Strapped to his thigh was a large, dragonbone knife, which, most literally, looked like a toothpick compared to the mean-looking greatsword on his back. His face was clearly Elven, but instead of the dainty appearance that graced most of his kin, Charon’s face was worn and rugged, in a handsome, grizzled fashion. His eyes were a scary shade of yellow, and his hair a whitish grey, both products of a mutation in his birth. The vicious looking scar that ran through his right eye did nothing to ease his intimidating visage.

As he drew closer, Charon caught the last few seconds of the pair’s conversation. It appeared that the human shared his sentiments, he noted; at least in some respects. Even if she hadn’t pushed the Council to act as quickly as he would have hoped, Charon could tell that she was growing tired of these endless meetings and could certainly voice his concerns to the Council, if so persuaded. “Pardon my intrusion, but I happened to overhear a bit of your conversation, Rider Laoch.” He said, announcing his presence with neither pomp, nor circumstance. “Might I suggest a solution? The Riders need to act now before Connor has the chance to grow his army even further than he already has. The only way we will get anyone on our side is to show them that we can win. They are scared right now, King Connor’s army hangs over their heads, and as long as they think that joining the Riders is suicide, we won’t find much support. We need to flex our own muscles for a change, and once the Nomads join our forces, the other nations will start to trickle in too.”

[inDefiance]

A sideways glance cast to the side, a demure nod and a bashful smile was her offered apology to Caitriona in response to the other woman's veiled rebuking of the 'Grande Rider' title. And of course right after she smiled came the stupid giggle. Sharienne bit her lower lip a bit too late to stifle the girlish mannerism as always. In her mind she glowered at Ahmi, as for certain, she always took pleasure in hearing the large warrior woman giggle. And for certain, Ahmi hummed in her mind with innocuous pleasantries.

As Shar walked abreast with Caitriona, many did step aside allowing full passage, a wide berth even for the pair of Riders. Only one who was still deemed, if only in memory, as the Grande Rider could ever hope to command such reaction. Some even lowed their head as they passed the coppery-haired female, sub-consciously or not, to show respect to one that had taken upon herself the monumental task of handling the up keep of the focus and keeping up the collective chins of all other Riders in troubled times in the past.

The Rider of Zeus had asked about Shar's thoughts regarding this dilemma. The stoic look returned upon Sharienne's face as she followed the train of unspoken thoughts of those who still believed in Caitriona. Shar stepped boldly onto the road she was gently reminded to not trespass.

“You say that you suppose that you are to blame. But I believe that blame may only be shouldered by the one who would be rightfully in charge, Rider Laoch,” Sharienne spouted off rather flippantly, red strands falling back into her face, tickling her long lashes once again. The encouraging hum of Ahmi rose in tone and pitch in her head.

Before Cait could reprimand Shar for such impudence, the grey-eyed woman tucked those unruly strands behind her ear again, stepped ahead and swiftly swivelled so that she may be face-to-face with the former Grande Rider.

“But I know that as a woman, you do have other obligations now, other concerns and welfares to consider other than your own,” Shar gazed levelly at the woman in front of her before reaching out and placing a hand upon her shoulder as yet again those deep red strands swept downward across her forehead, “and I know it's not my place, but your acts and decisions as a Rider will never change how she views you--”

Suddenly a deep, gruff voice excused itself, cutting off Shar's words and bringing her mind and thoughts back to how she was speaking with Cait, emphasizing it really was not Shar's place to speak of things she knew nothing about.

And at the same time the encouraging hum broke from Ahmi and in its place was buzzing alarm and worry as she flashed in Shar's mind a set of icy blue eyes, frozen over with whispers of death, obscured by the deepening dark of a lowered cowl. 'Ahmi... easy, sister Dragon... we are in the halls of Dragon riders... no matter how filled with Malice this one that watches us may be, it would be a fool to dare strike, especially with the Grand-- I mean, Caitriona present. She is too well loved here--'

'-- or a deemed hindrance to the plots and schemes of the Council, sister Human...! Imagine what kind of bounty her head should fetch should they--'

'Enough, Ahmbrisahn. Please. Just continue to sense Malice with my aura, darling.'

'Yes, darling. Hmmm... I think we may know this female 'Malice...' but wait... do you not ever wonder why that Elf Charaon carries such a large, large blade? Must be that it is compensating for such a small, small--'

'Ahmbrisahn! Respect for Veho at all times!'

'Yes, Sharry-Star... and be sure that you don't smile when you look over at his blade...'

Shar nodded politely addressing the presence of Charon... then promptly grey eyes could not help but slide over at the large Elf's blade and Shar smiled. And of course she bit her lower lip a bit too late to stifle the girlish giggle. She hummed angrily at Ahmi in her head as Ahmi hummed innocently right back at her.

“Well as much as I do agree with Advisor Charon,” said Shar after clearing her throat and tucking the unruly lock of mahogany behind her ear, “but we would need more than just one or two Rider's to represent at such a negotiation to even hope to persuade them. For they too need to see that the Extraho Veho will back their own words with a show of solidarity amongst their own before offering a flex of muscles.”

Towards the end of her sentence, the mystic-blade had to raise her soft voice as the sound of rolling thunder, the imminent descent of Zeus was soon to befall them. They had not much time to converse, Shar surmised and stepped back onto that road of which she was reminded not to trespass. The unruly strands of dark red danced across her pale, forehead once more as the wind picked up.

Yes, Shar traipsed further down that road, and happily Ahmi followed beside her, for the Dragon said not a single smarmy remark in her head; she only continued to hum with encouragement and zeal. Those gosling grey eyes locked with those lush green ones once more.

“And if there is someone worthy and reputable that would speak to the Nomads on behalf of the Dragon Riders, then with that someone would be Lady Sharienne Odae Barenias; Representative of the Wardens of Fierce Mercy, Mystic-Blade of the DragonStar and a daughter of Fine Horse-Breeder House Barenias in Dor ar I’ Bein . Her shield readied with honour, her blade raised with loyalty and of couse with both of Ambrisahn's Vorel Tilsin Dragon wings beating fiercely and proudly would she be there. And without a single doubt we should stand with that someone, that one person who could be the only one allowed to bear that burden of accepting all blame that comes with leadership... should that person still exist, Rider Laoch...”

[ladybella]

The pair flew for a while, not paying attention to time or the happenings below. Zephyr never ventured far from the Dragon's Keep, even when Perry was with him, he always said that they should be close in case they were needed. Perry didn't understand that part, neither of them were very important beings in this little community, so until they actually went to war, they wouldn't be needed. Zephyr didn't seem to think so.

'Look love, a little meeting, shall we drop in?' Zephyr asked spotting the riders on the landing platform.

'It's not really our business Zephyr,' Perry said leaning over to look down at the little group. She recognized the rider Cait Laoch, Charon the Elf, and Shar the woman warrior who belonged to a group whose name Perry always forgot.

'The Wardens of Fierce Mercy, forgetful one,' Zephyr interupted her thoughts sounding a little annoyed, 'And why is it not our business? We are a dragon and rider, are we not? Do we not deserve to know what is going on?' Zephyr was already flying for the ledge and Perry knew there was no way to stop him. He was a strong spirited dragon, who possibly thought he held more authority that he actually did. Perry was vain, and Zephyr was self-righteous, quite a pair. Although, Perry couldn't argue with him, they were a part of this elite force, if you will, and they should be read into some things that go on inside the walls of the keep.

Zephyr landed softly, and on the edge to keep from knocking one of them over with his wings as he steadied himself. He had a habit of shaking his whole body much like a dog when he landed. Zephyr tried to explain it once, something about loosening the tight muscles, but Perry stuck to her reason; he was just a goofball.

"Morning," Perry said cheerfully, she jumped down from Zephyr's back patting him on the nose as she passed, "We saw you all here and decided to drop down for a visit, I hope we didn't interupt," She smiled brightly.

[Chyoko]

It seems another has taken notice of your poisonous influence, my weloh warrior. A hot puff of air was released by Vutha, his tail tightening slightly at the prospect of a fight. His rider hummed a slight warning, making the black dragon hiss slightly as she walked them both into a room.

A group of people glanced, surprise turning to a mixture of emotions. Frozen blue eyes wondered the room looking at the other Riders present, shining orbs causing visible shudders to travel up some spines. Her lips curled. One man stood, an aging man that appeared to be in his fifties, who kept his face clear.

“Rider Lilium Ignis,” he said rising to his feet, “we called you here to discuss two important situations.” He looked towards the others, searching for a sign to signal him which to start with first. But the petite woman already knew what they wanted to discuss, her dragon, and her help in the fight against Connor.

“Let’s not pretend we all aren’t dieing to talk about one thing,” another younger man snarled standing, “Khael if you will not say it than I will. How do you have the audacity to claim another Dragon after your born one dies?” Lilium cocked her head to the side, as her glossy dragon let out a growl.

”You will show respect to your fellow Riders, or I’ll show you it in my stomach!” Vutha roared, wings spreading, still long in his smaller form. Another council member rose, a scowl on her face.

“I agree with the dragon, this part of the conversation is over!” the others nodded slowly in assent. “Now on to the real fact of this meeting, we have heard rumors that you will not stand against Connor with us?”

“That is true,” Lilium halted their questions with a hand before continuing, “I have no interest in the war. If Connor comes after me, or Vutha, I will run. I have never been one for killing out of the safety of shadows, and you give me no reason to leave that comfort.” The council peered at each other before the woman spoke again.

“If we cannot convince you, perhaps another can. Please, speak to Rider Laoch, go on a small trip with her. If two dragons have chosen you, certainly you can help make a difference in this battle.” The blue-eyed Dragon Rider listened silently, than nodded once before leaving the councils presence.

As the doors swung shut behind her, Lilium scanned the floor and her gaze landed on the balcony. She waltzed up to the group of Riders, a smirk lining her features.

“I hope I’m interrupting something.”