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Race: Draconian

Bloodline Powers: Improved Strength+, Rending, Firebreath+

Greater Mysteries: Fire (Noble) 6, Wind (Noble) 4, Sound (Advanced) 2

Lesser Mysteries: Heat 4, Oxygen 4, Embers 4, Pressure 4, Current/Flow 4

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Wind rustled through the waist high grass, taking Samazzar’s perception with it. When it reached the edge of his magical sight, it switched over, blurring and becoming much less precise as he began to read the wind’s ‘memory.’

Five leagues on open ground. Much further than anyone could see, certainly farther than he had been able to manage just a week ago.

Still, there was nothing but swaying grass ahead, and Dussok and Gingo behind. The folk shifted nervously clasping his moss covered hands together and releasing them as he peaked just above the sea of golden plants.

“Nothing so far,” Samazzar remarked, standing up. Dussok joined him a second later and the three of them began walking again. “I should be able to spot a human even if he’s hiding within a league or two. Further than that it gets hazy. I should be able to see someone standing out of the grass, but I doubt I’d be able to locate anyone that is hiding. How about you Gingo, have you been able to find anything?”

“Gingo cannot touch the deep green this far from the forest,” he replied nervously. “Gingo cannot hear his brothers and sisters. It is lonely here. Gingo asks that you hurry with your quest so that Gingo may guide you back soon.”

“Sorry buddy,” Samazzar said apologetically. “I didn’t really think about your connection with the rest of your tribe when we left the forest. We’ll try to handle the humans and leave as soon as possible, but that means spotting them first. I can see a long way, but the prairie is absolutely gigantic. It still might be a couple of days before we find anything.”

“It is okay,” Gingo responded sadly, rhythmically clasping and unclasping his hands. “Gingo understands and the elders did warn that this might happen. Still, Gingo does not like being alone. He does not like being unable to slip into the deep green to escape. Forest folk belong in the forest. This is not a proper place for our people.”

“The plains aren’t really a proper place for most people,” Dussok cut in with a dry chuckle. “The soil is a bit fertile, not quite as good as your forest or near a river, there’s a reason it’s not growing trees after all, but beyond that there’s not much good about it. Herd animals can graze here, but there isn’t really any stone, wood or iron out on the plains. Nothing to build a house out of, and in the winters there’s nothing to shelter behind.”

“I’ve heard of folks making homes out of the sod,” Samazzar said helpfully. “It’s actually a pretty bad building material, but the grass roots hold it together. They would dig a well, soak the sod with water, pile a couple chunks on top of each other and let it all sort of blend and dry together. It’s slow, needs to be redone at least once a year, and very fragile, but if you absolutely have to live on the plains, that is how some of the nomad tribes in the old stories survived the winters.”

“Do you mean the books you managed to pull from the Vereton Library?” Dussok asked. “How far have you gotten through them anyway? I know that you were reading in between exposing yourself to the elements on Lonely Peak, but you never really updated Takkla or I on your progress.”

“Progress.” Samazzar tried the word out. It wasn’t completely correct, but he couldn’t think of a better one. “Well, it depends how you look at it. I’ve read all of them, but understanding their content is another matter. It’s not like we were able to drag the entire library out, it was only fifteen books. Still, the authors managed to pack a lot of information into them. It usually takes me five to seven passes to actually remember everything in a book.”

“Of course you don’t consider yourself done with a book until you can remember it,” Dussok replied with a snort. “Anyone else might read a book twice, but here you are making sure that you can recite the entire thing from memory.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Samazzar asked with a roll of his eyes. “Carry a reference library around with me? The books provide useful information and context, but that information is next to worthless if I don’t remember it. Even then, simply recalling everything by rote isn’t all that useful.”

“It’s like learning alchemy all over again,” he continued excitedly, “learning how the various bits and pieces interact is almost as important as what they do on their own. Some of the accounts are centuries old. Others are ten times that. Oftentimes they will discuss a myth or legend about a particular area or monster and there will be conflicting reports.

“For example.” Samazzar’s eyes were gleaming as he began burying Dussok with data. “If I only read one book about the yeti that lived deeper in the mountain range, I would think that they were savage and unintelligent beasts. Another book mentioned that explorers found crude shelters with simple tools and works of art in areas that the yetis would migrate through. Finally, another book spoke of a sapient race that came down from the deep mountain, yak men, that seemed to have bloodlines related to snow and ice magic. None of them actually spell it out, but it seems from the clues like the yak men share the yeti’s bloodline. Not every yeti would be sapient, but they yak men that were able to evolve would turn into yetis that could think and reason.”

“Errr,” Dussok mumbled. “You might be right, but it sure sounds like you’re overdoing it again. Still, that’s hardly surprising.”

Samazzar chuckled, shaking his head. In the distance, a cluster of vague but large outlines appeared at the edge of his perception. He changed their course, angling toward the objects.

“Do you see something little dragon?” Dussok asked, motioning with his head toward the direction they were walking in. “We’ve been wandering the plains for two days now. As much as I don’t want to deal with human nonsense, I’m more than ready to get this over with.”

“Gingo concurs,” the forest folk agreed, nodding his head eagerly. “Humans are untrustworthy. They don’t respect agreements or the deep green, but we have been out of the woods for too long. We must conclude our business and leave.”

“I think it’s humans,” Samazzar said uncertainly. “We are far enough away that I’m only able to see the blurriest of outlines, but there is something unnatural on the horizon. That said, I don’t think we’ve addressed how we plan on concluding our business with the humans. We know that they are active in the area, but we don’t have any idea what they are doing or what their goals are. There’s no guarantee that they will listen if they try and explain the situation.”

“I doubt they will,” Dussok said grimly. “You remember how humans are. Some of them are fine, but most of them seem to think that the world was created specifically for them. We should be prepared for negotiations to fail.”

“I don’t even know what we have to negotiate about.” Samazzar sighed. “What am I going to say? ‘I know there aren’t any signs up but you need to leave this prairie. It belongs to me.’ I don’t want to violence, but honestly it’s looking more and more like the only option.”

Dussok shrugged.

“You’re trying to start a society little dragon,” the big draconian said, trying to keep his voice reasonable. “As best I can tell, national borders aren’t much more than drawing a line on a map and saying ‘this is mine, don’t come here or I’ll stab you.’ At some point we’ll have to define where Union City ends and human lands begin. It just seems that we’re reaching that day a little earlier than either of us expected.”

“That’s fair,” Samazzar responded thoughtfully. “A dragon rarely intrudes on another dragon’s territory unless they are trying to usurp them or visiting as a guest. There is no need to be aggressive with the humans, we will want to trade with Vereton after all. That said, we should inform them that they are guests, and that hunting or gathering resources without our permission is strictly prohibited.”

“Dragons?” Gingo questioned, cocking his moss covered face to the side. “Why would dragons care about a dispute between ground-dwelling peoples? So long as they get their tribute, they leave the forest folk alone. It is a good arrangement. Gingo does not want dragons to notice him.”

Dussok elbowed Samazzar, grinning down at their shorter companion.

“Samazzar here is a dragon at heart. He’s insisted on that from day one. It may seem strange now, but it was a lot stranger when he was shorter than you are. Still, after watching him work, I don’t really doubt it any more. It may seem absurd, but we live in an absurd world. You’ll get used to it.”

Gingo squinted at Samazzar for a second before shrugging.

“In the deep green, he looks like a mass of flame and talons soaring through the air. More or less a dragon, just smaller.”

“I knew I liked you,” Samazzar said, beaming as he patted the moss that covered Gingo’s head. “Remind me later to ask you about how you perceive others in the deep green. That’s a fascinating topic, but for now I’m going to take this win and enjoy it.”

“Plus,” he continued, losing a little of his fire, “we should probably conceal ourselves for our approach on the humans. I’m not sure what exactly they’re doing out here, but more information is always better than less.”

Dussok nodded, and the two draconians dropped down to their hands and knees. It took them almost a half hour to crawl close enough to the strange encampment for Samazzar to listen in with the mystery of sound.

Their approach was slow, but as they drew near Samazzar began making out more and more details. The shapes he had spotted from a distance were a collection of tents surrounding a dozen cages. In the center of the encampment, the tall grass of the prairie had been beaten down to make room for a small fire pit where a shank of meat was sizzling away.

It was humans. Maybe elves, but it was hard to think what else the tall skinny bipeds crouched around the fire and mumbling gossip to each other might be. More interesting were the cages just outside the tent line. It was hard without color for Samazzar to tell what exactly was inside them, but the large pacing shapes had to be some species of wolf.

“Rolf.” The human’s voice was distant, almost distorted by the intervening space as the mystery of sound carried it to Samazzar.

“Yeah?” Another human grunted back. Through the wind, Samazzar saw one of the men sitting around the fire sit up in time with the response. Mentally, he tagged the man ‘Rolf.’

“Why does the Patrician want a bunch of scale wolves?” The first speaker, a husky female voice, asked. “Is he starting a zoo or something?”

“Doubt the Patrician knows much bout this expedition,” Rolf replied. “Minister Greenley was the one in charge of hiring and dispatching us. I’m sure the Patrician saw the request and signed off on it, but running Vereton is a busy job. Most day to day tasks are actually planned and assigned by ministers.”

“Oh,” the woman said unhappily. “And here I thought I was special because we had a writ signed by the Patrician himself.”

“You’re the most special mercenary I know, Gwen,” Rolf responded with a chuckle. “No one else would ask if they got to meet the Patrician and get his autograph as their first question. I know Friedrich and my first questions were about parros.”

“Actually,” another human around the fire interjected as he took a bite of meat off of the knife he had skewered it on, “my first question was about what the mission entailed. Hard to spend parros if you die. I know too many mercs that took jobs without looking closely only to end up in a volcano running away from a fire newt while carrying its egg.”

“Well,” Gwen pressed. “If you looked into the mission before you set out, did you manage to find anything?”

“Eh,” Friedrich said with a shrug. “They had some requests for monsters to bring back. I don’t know if they’re starting a zoo or not, but pretty much every one of the beasts they requested has some alchemical value. That said, I don’t really know that this is about gathering rare creatures. The contract has a lot of clauses in it to reward us for bringing back information. Unless I missed my guess, this is a scouting mission. The minister just wants us to bring back valuable animals to cover our actions and pay for our contract.”

“Huh,” Gwen remarked. “I really wanted the Patrician to start a zoo. I thought that would have been nice. A fun place for parents to bring their kids after work.”

“A zoo with scale wolves?” Rolf asked with a disbelieving snort. “They’re large feral beasts with supernatural abilities. I don’t know what parent would bring their children to see them. It would terrify the piss out of any normal kid.”

“I think they’re cute,” Gwen replied defensively. “You shouldn’t assume that children wouldn't like scale wolves just because you would have been scared of them. Maybe Vereton’s children are just braver than the two of you.”

Samazzar tuned out the conversation, turning to his companions.

“We are close enough to make contact now,” he whispered. “Dussok, you should stand up out of the grass with me and try to look imposing. Gingo should stay hidden. I don’t think this is his kind of encounter.”

The moss covered folk nodded fervently, his face barely visible beyond the thick straw-like grass that covered everything.

“Agreed,” Gingo said nervously. “Gingo can not touch the deep green, but even without it the humans smell like steel, ash, and hatred. Gingo wants no part of this.”

Samazzar stood up, a smile on his face and his hands behind his back as he strode toward the human encampment at a calm pace. Behind him, Dussok popped up out of the grass, ax over his shoulder and glowering down at the interlopers.

“Hello,” Samazzar called out. “I couldn’t help but notice that there were visitors on our land. I wanted to both welcome you and politely ask what your purpose is in Union City territory.”

“Union City?” Gwen asked, standing up from where she was sitting by the fire, “I’ve never heard of it.”

She was wearing light armor, strips of cured leather layered on top of cloth, but Samazzar’s gaze was immediately drawn to her belt. Gwen was carrying fifteen smaller pouches, likely for ingredients or potions. He couldn’t put his finger on the specific mystery, but there was no doubt in his mind that she was a practitioner.

“We’re a settlement located at the base of the mountain,” Samazzar replied, nodding toward the landscape behind him. “We’re more than open to trading with humans from the surrounding area, but we would ask that you not hunt or gather resources on our land without the appropriate permits.”

“I’m sorry, we didn’t know-” Gwen began, only for Rolf to cut her off.

“I’ve never heard of Union City, and I absolutely haven’t heard anything about a ‘permit.’ Sure sounds like a bunch of bandits charging for protection to me. We aint paying your racket lizard. Buzz off.”

The smile on Samazzar’s face stiffened. Behind him, Dussok let out a deep growl.

“What do you think Rolf,” Friedrich drawled, standing up to join Gwen. He was a tall thin man, but where Gwen didn’t have a visible weapon, he had a large bow made of dark wood draped over his shoulder. “I’m not sure what these things are, but I suspect the minister would buy them off of us as both valuable monsters and information. If there really is a city out in the wastelands, that’s something that Vereton will want to know about.”

“Guys,” Gwen chirped, taking a half step backward as she looked from one companion to the other nervously. “I don’t know that we need to turn this into a fight. Plus, there are the porters to think of. They can’t-”

“Good point Friedrich,” Rolf replied, ignoring Gwen entirely as he stood up. Rolf was big, about as tall as Samazzar and wearing chain armor with an overly large sword draped across his back. “We don’t exactly have a piece of paper saying how many parros they’re worth, but I’m sure we could sell them for enough to live like lords for a couple of months.”

Around the fire circle, the remaining five humans shuffled nervously. There were weapons piled nearby, but none of them were wearing armor. It was possible that they had some self defense training, but the dragon inside Samazzar almost immediately classified them as minimal threats. The three standing individuals were a different story.

“Oi! Lizards,” Rolf shouted. “I’m almost done with my first elixir and Friedrich is working his way through his second. If you’re good and climb into the cages on your own, we won’t have to beat you bloody first. Of course, I’m more than ready to knock you around a bit. We didn’t find anything on the prairie today and I’m getting a little restless.”

“I think my brother and I would prefer that you leave our prairie,” Samazzar said stiffly, his smile a formality and little else. “Now.”

“Looks like you’re going in the cages the hard way then,” Friedrich responded, pulling the bow off of his shoulder. “Gwen, get ready to fix them up once Rolf and I are done with them. The minister will want them in mostly one piece, at least before he starts picking them apart for alchemical components.”

Rolf drew his sword as well, chainmail jingling as he brought the weapon into a double handed grip in front of him.

“Right,” Samazzar said tightly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the humans resorted immediately to violence. Are you ready Dussok?”

Before his companion could respond, an arrow cracked through the air toward Samazzar.

It was fast.

Faster than his eye could track, and more importantly, fast enough that Samazzar’s perception of it with the mystery of sound lagged a fraction of a second behind the mystery of wind.

He shelved that thought, instead using his newfound sensitivity with the wind to grab hold of the air around the arrow and push it sideways.

A line of burning pain traced itself across Samazzar’s cheek as the arrow sliced through scales and scored bone. Almost immediately, blood began to flow from the wound, staining the side of his face.

As it passed, the sound hit him, a sudden crack that made his ears pop. Something in the back of his mind stirred, latching on to the moment as it tried to puzzle out how a mystery could be delayed.

Samazzar and Dussok broke into a run at the same time. Another arrow flashed through the air, but this time he was ready for it. Samazzar didn’t bother trying to make a wall out of the wind. The heavy arrows were moving too fast for that to be anything more than an inconvenience. Rather, he used the air to push the arrow aside, guiding it away from him rather than halting its flight entirely.

The second arrow cracked past, cutting a line through the tall grass as it disappeared off into the distance.

“The short one is a practitioner,” Friedrich shouted, throwing his bow to the ground and drawing a pair of long knives. “I don’t know if it’s wood, wind or magnetism, but he’s making my arrows miss”

“Have Gwen magic him or something!” Rolf yelled back, pausing just as he was about to meet Dussok to set his feet for a swing with his greatsword. “She’s a practitioner too, it’s about time she earned her keep.”

The woman jumped back, eyes wild as she glued them to Samazzar’s charging form. Dussok had already stopped to fight the human warrior, but Friedrich was keeping his distance, forcing Samazzar to charge both of them at the same time.

She reached into a pouch with trembling hands, pulling out a handful of dust and flinging it at the charging Draconian. Almost without thinking, Samazzar altered the wind, blowing the cloud back toward her and Friedrich. He didn’t know what exactly she was trying to throw at him, but he doubted that it would be something helpful.

Almost the second the dust touched Gwen and Friedrich, both of them shrieked, grabbing their faces and clawing at their eyes. Gwen fell to the ground coughing and heaving for breath while Friedrich jumped backward with the agility of a jungle cat.

Samazzar felt the breath catch in his throat. As fast as the arrows had been, wind and distance had provided him with an answer. Up close, there wouldn’t be a solution. The human was too quick. Samazzar didn’t have any idea how strong Friedrich was, but there was no way he’d be able to dodge the man’s knives.

He reached out with his mind, grabbing hold of the flames in the fire pit and yanking them free. Even as Friedrich clawed at his red and streaming eyes, Samazzar wrapped the blaze around him.

The unarmed humans scattered. None of them bothered to make a dash for the weapon pile. The second they saw the fire, all five of them ran off into the tall grass, unwilling to fight the magic that was consuming their employer.

Friedrich screamed. Samazzar couldn’t feel it in him to have sympathy for the human. The flames weren’t doing as much damage as they should, a sure sign that the man had trained some sort of fire resistance, but by increasing their heat Samazzar could keep the man in enough pain that between the stinging powder in his eyes and the fire licking at his skin, there was no way that he could see the draconian coming.

Samazzar’s hand exploded through the human’s chest. Whatever advantages Friedrich had gained from his elixirs, superhuman resilience wasn’t one of them.

The human slumped off of Samazzar’s arm, falling to the ground where the fire crawled into the newly opened hole in his chest cavity. He exhaled once before going still

“Oh no,” Gwen whispered, eyes red and puffy from the stinging dust. “Oh no, no no no, I can’t feel him. Where did Friedrich go?”

Behind the two of them, a ‘clank’ heralded Rolf’s sword flying through the air. The human turned and tried to run only for Dussok’s ax to fall, splitting his collarbone and digging deep into the man’s chest.

He fell to the ground only for Dussok to stomp his left foot onto his back, pinning him in place as he brought his ax up a second time. Rolf struggled weakly, unable to unseat the draconian, and barely a second later the ax fell again, beheading the man.

“Rolf,” Gwen squeaked, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “By the mysteries, no.”

Samazzar sighed, keeping an eye on the distraught woman as he killed the fire that was merrily consuming Friedrich’s corpse and plunging the clearing into darkness. She didn’t respond beyond rocking back and forth, mumbling to herself.

Dussok walked over, frowning slightly as he pointed his ax at Gwen.

“What’s her story? Is she fighting us or what?”

“That’s a good question,” Samazzar said gently. “So Gwen, are you going to fight my brother and I, or are you going to quietly leave? I saw that you weren’t eager to capture us like your companions were so I don’t have any ill will toward you. I just want to know whether or not I should be mauling you or something right now.”

“I can’t fight well,” she choked out between sobs. “I’m a life practitioner. I have some irritants and poisons, but I can only heal people with my magic. I’m only here to keep the animals alive after Friedrich shoots them.”

“Friedrich,” she mumbled, body shaking as she continued to cry.

Dussok shrugged, lifting his ax back up and resting it on his shoulder.

“Gingo,” Samazzar called out, shaking his head. “I think it’s safe for you to make an appearance. The fighting’s done and it’s time for us to pick some things up before we head home. I don’t think your tribe will have to worry about human hunters disrupting things for some time.”