Nova could sense the movements of all the living things that dappled the sacred grounds. He could smell each and every morsel of food that had been prepared for the new tamers. He could hear the heavy breathing of the young dragons, still pulling the stress of the flight from their lungs; he could hear men and women mingling and chatting, chewing and walking. Even above him, he could hear his dearest friend pacing back and forth on the wooden floor; their connection told him that the man was working out small details of the events that would follow the evening. He had long ago made the decision that the training each tamer would receive would be unique, suited to his or her strengths and interests. A warrior is most fierce when they fight with, and for, what they know and love. Obsidian Nova agreed. It was not wise to assume all humans could be taught in one way, nor all dragons could be taught in another. Each tamer, each scaled beast, would have certain areas of combat and study in which they would excel. It was Merrik and Nova’s job to pinpoint these areas and help provide the training and knowledge needed to fine tune and sharpen them. Alongside focusing on their strengths, each of the new tamers would need to learn to have a healthy balance in all areas of combat. All would be expected to wield a blade, specifically a long sword, even though they may fancy another weapon. It was crucial to be able to learn to wield a longsword for the reason that it teaches balance in combat, it teaches precision at an unusual distance, it teaches dexterity in the way that a person may move with it, and it offers strength as the longsword is no weapon for the weak. Of course they would not be forced to use the longswords, rather use them as a utility to teach them the combat ways of old, which served the ancient tamers well. There is strength in the past traditions.
Furthermore, the dragons would be learning unique maneouvers and methods of attack and concealment unique to their own breed. In this area, there was only so much Nova could do. He had taken great care over the last 20 years to learn as much as possible about each breed of dragon he would one day be responsible for. So although he could never demonstrate to a Mountain Dragon the ideal method of tunneling, he had sufficient knowledge of the concept to lead them in the right direction.
The noise did not slow down, nearly an hour later and there was no silence. The great dragon lifted his head from the lip of the obsidian dish that cradled his mass. He would have to get used to all this noise, of this he was sure. He lifted his neck up and looked about his stall. His muscles and mind were tired, there was no doubt. He had spent the last few weeks assisting in preparing the estate for the arrival of the new tamers. The coliseum had needed much work to prepare, and there was much landscaping that had long been neglected that had called for its finishing hour. Merrik, like Obsidian Nova, took great pride in appearance and representation; if one did not display his or her self in the highest regard, he or she could not expect to be treated in the highest regard. Yes, though vanity was not of the utmost importance, appearance was.
”I don’t suppose I’ll get any rest this evening. At least not until the emotional storm wades. There is much thought and feeling being exchanged in this meadow, and until the tamers learn to control their bonds enough to stop any loose feeling from spraying out into the open for other to pick up on, I don’t think I’ll be getting any rest. Its hard to shut out such joy and excitement anyways. I’m stuck between wishing for peace and enjoying the emotions that drift my way.” The large drake sighed, it was difficult to remain detached from the younger dragons; they were his family and despite the neutral perspective he always held for the sake of being their leader, he enjoyed his connection with the yearlings. They were his family.
”Perhaps I’ll go out for a hunt, some fresh flesh ought to clear my mind. Is there any game you need for the kitchens Merrik?” He opened his mind for a response and received little more than “Huh? Oh, sure, yes, elk will be fine. I wonder how many will be interested in healing magicks? We could always use well trained healers. And how many are keen on stealthier missions. No doubt Ogual has his spies prying into every nook and cranny of this land, trying to find a way to break down the ancient magical barriers…” The black dragon chuckled, ”Very well then old friend, Elk it is.”
He lifted his mass from the blood red pillows and stepped out onto the hard stone floor, his black talons scraping against it as he stretched his bulk in a cat-like manner. Before departing, he took a drink from the cool, crystal pool in the corner and summoned an unusual wisp of dark, unnamable matter. This needle-thin snake of darkness slithered through the air and collected a thick silver chain with a black and silver pendant dangling from it from a hook on the wall. It was a precious heirloom passed down to each Nightmare dragon that bonded with the bloodline of the dragonlords. Obsidian Nova wore it more out of instinct now that duty to his lineage. The symbol on the pendant was tattooed onto Merrik’s forearm by the oracle. The old man had said it was for much more than vanity, though the pair had never seen any unique uses for the tattoo or the pendant. Nevertheless they wore them with pride.
The massive nightmare drake made his way out of the great stables and onto the fresh fields of grass outside. He would make his way to greet the newcomers and his young drakes before departing to hunt. Perhaps one of the yearlings wished to join him, it was of course courteous to ask.
As he approached the middle of the meadow where the great feast was laid out on the stone table, he sent a wave of greeting to all that filled the area. He dipped his head in a bow to greet whoever looked his way.
Furthermore, the dragons would be learning unique maneouvers and methods of attack and concealment unique to their own breed. In this area, there was only so much Nova could do. He had taken great care over the last 20 years to learn as much as possible about each breed of dragon he would one day be responsible for. So although he could never demonstrate to a Mountain Dragon the ideal method of tunneling, he had sufficient knowledge of the concept to lead them in the right direction.
The noise did not slow down, nearly an hour later and there was no silence. The great dragon lifted his head from the lip of the obsidian dish that cradled his mass. He would have to get used to all this noise, of this he was sure. He lifted his neck up and looked about his stall. His muscles and mind were tired, there was no doubt. He had spent the last few weeks assisting in preparing the estate for the arrival of the new tamers. The coliseum had needed much work to prepare, and there was much landscaping that had long been neglected that had called for its finishing hour. Merrik, like Obsidian Nova, took great pride in appearance and representation; if one did not display his or her self in the highest regard, he or she could not expect to be treated in the highest regard. Yes, though vanity was not of the utmost importance, appearance was.
”I don’t suppose I’ll get any rest this evening. At least not until the emotional storm wades. There is much thought and feeling being exchanged in this meadow, and until the tamers learn to control their bonds enough to stop any loose feeling from spraying out into the open for other to pick up on, I don’t think I’ll be getting any rest. Its hard to shut out such joy and excitement anyways. I’m stuck between wishing for peace and enjoying the emotions that drift my way.” The large drake sighed, it was difficult to remain detached from the younger dragons; they were his family and despite the neutral perspective he always held for the sake of being their leader, he enjoyed his connection with the yearlings. They were his family.
”Perhaps I’ll go out for a hunt, some fresh flesh ought to clear my mind. Is there any game you need for the kitchens Merrik?” He opened his mind for a response and received little more than “Huh? Oh, sure, yes, elk will be fine. I wonder how many will be interested in healing magicks? We could always use well trained healers. And how many are keen on stealthier missions. No doubt Ogual has his spies prying into every nook and cranny of this land, trying to find a way to break down the ancient magical barriers…” The black dragon chuckled, ”Very well then old friend, Elk it is.”
He lifted his mass from the blood red pillows and stepped out onto the hard stone floor, his black talons scraping against it as he stretched his bulk in a cat-like manner. Before departing, he took a drink from the cool, crystal pool in the corner and summoned an unusual wisp of dark, unnamable matter. This needle-thin snake of darkness slithered through the air and collected a thick silver chain with a black and silver pendant dangling from it from a hook on the wall. It was a precious heirloom passed down to each Nightmare dragon that bonded with the bloodline of the dragonlords. Obsidian Nova wore it more out of instinct now that duty to his lineage. The symbol on the pendant was tattooed onto Merrik’s forearm by the oracle. The old man had said it was for much more than vanity, though the pair had never seen any unique uses for the tattoo or the pendant. Nevertheless they wore them with pride.
The massive nightmare drake made his way out of the great stables and onto the fresh fields of grass outside. He would make his way to greet the newcomers and his young drakes before departing to hunt. Perhaps one of the yearlings wished to join him, it was of course courteous to ask.
As he approached the middle of the meadow where the great feast was laid out on the stone table, he sent a wave of greeting to all that filled the area. He dipped his head in a bow to greet whoever looked his way.