The Legend of Wyrmrock (Major Mario x Driven to drift)

[Major Mario]

The continent of Wyrmrock was a strange yet beautiful place. With sea on all sides of it and expansive forests nestled deep within tall mountain ranges, Wyrmrock was essentially a world cut off from the rest of the earth. All sorts of monsters and creatures inhabited its lands, and for the adventurous sort, there were plenty of wondrous ingredients and plants with all sorts of beneficial effects. There were even humans and other races living there in Wyrmrock. From the elves up in Cragspire to the dwarves over at Krieg's Mine, villages and settlements were everywhere. Everywhere, except for the mountain ranges.

You see, Wyrmrock got its name from ancient legend and past rumors. Dragons, those reclusive, scaly beasts of fire and brimstone, were rumored to inhabit the island. Scholars had done plenty of research and concluded that dragons had indeed inhabited the area, but most of them had gone up north towards the colder climates or taller mountain ranges. Only a few stayed, and those that did were a nuisance to the settlers. A nuisance, a terror, and a threat to their wellbeing.

Most dragons ignored the mortal settlers as they had not trespassed on their territory, but there was one that harassed a village for well over two centuries. It must have seen the colonists as a threat for it picked off any adventurers that dared to approach its cave beyond the forest that separated it from the village. Occasionally it would venture out and make off with a large cow or other cattle from the village while destroying a building on its way back to its den. Sometimes it would just linger at the edge of the forest and peer into the village like a hungry wolf, which terrified the villagers to no end.

Many warriors and adventurers had tried to slay the dragon, but all had either failed or skipped town when no-one was looking for none came back. After many years of this the village chief decided enough was enough. Long had they tried to appease the dragon by offering sacrifices in the form of goats and cattle, and still the dragon was a nuisance. The yearly calling for an experienced hunter had come. Deep within the village of Raspbrook would be where our adventure starts...

"So I say with great authority and with a great need: any and all who are willing and able to slay this terrible dragon will be generously rewarded upon their return," said the village chief, a large and portly fellow with a comical mustache. He stood in the village central square and looked out to a crowd that had gathered around him. "Please, help us in our time of great need! Banish this beast from our lands once and for all!

 

[driven to drift]

Within the village square of Raspbrook, quite a crowd had gathered to listen to the village chief's request. Much of the people were locals, whispering and chattering amongst themselves as they looked to one another for a volunteer. It had not been the first time the plea had been made and most had little hope that it would be the last. Too many had failed or cowered back and away from the task without bothering to chance it. Why should they? Dragons were creatures of legend; the average hunter had not and would never face something as magnificently treacherous as the great scaled beasts. They certainly could not be blamed for their hesitance. Despite what scholars had documented of them, the records of dragons in battle were not nearly enough to tip the scales of risk and reward in favor of the latter. Why would a well-fed hunter stick out his neck when far-simpler work could be found elsewhere?

This fine year, however, there was an intrigued party. On the fringe of the square, a head of fiery hair had stopped to listen to the announcement. The apple in her right hand lifted to her lips as she absently bit into the sweet, juicy fruit, attention held rapt by the speaker. Her head tilted in intrigue as she stood, the sunlight glinting faintly off of the well-fitted chest plate as green eyes scanned the crowd for any signs of interest in the job. A dragon? she mused to herself with another bite out of the apple. It had been some time since she'd found any sort of well-paying work. One-too many times she had just missed the call to arms or had a job swiped bt some smooth-talking man who insisted he could do much better. The next bite of the apple was a bit more aggressive with the thought. She'd had enough of that.

"Hm, what do you think, Zane?" she spoke aloud softly. "You think we can handle a big, nasty dragon?"

In answer to her question, the velvet lips of the black stallion at her side flipped outward over her shoulder in a reach towards the apple still held in front of her face. A quiet nicker accented his play towards the half-eaten fruit and the hunter rolled her eyes and used her free hand to pat the horse's cheek. "Oh, fine, fine," she huffed, taking one final bite from the apple before offering it up to the probing muzzle that accepted the treat with a sloppy few crunches. She wiped her hands on her form-fitted brown trousers before retaking her grasp on the reins and tossing the end of her long, wavy red ponytail over her shoulder. "I suppose we'll do it, then," she nodded to her companion before leading the temporarily contented stallion forward into the crowd. She walked with purpose, brown boots picking her path as the people she politely excused themselves around seemed to realize her intent and parted for horse and dismounted rider.

With head held high and a confident smile upon full pink lips, she halted only at the foot of the square the village chief stood upon. Her free hand dropped to rest comfortably on the hilt of the sword on her hip. "It appears today is your lucky day, sir. My name is Roslyn Weiss, and I believe I am the hunter that will be up to the task of solving your dragon problem."

*--*

If she was entirely honest with herself, Roslyn was a fair bit surprised at how quickly they had accepted her assistance. After overcoming the initial surprise, the mustachioed chief had only asked her a bare few questions before whisking her off to point out the dragon's home with the additional help of a map he held within his office quarters. Tavish, as he had introduced himself, had even ensured she have access to any supplies she might need before setting off. And so she'd had her blades sharpened, resupplied her quiver of arrows, fed, watered and groomed Zane and taken the night to rest them both. She wasn't surprised to find the warhorse impatient to get on with the hunt the following morning. He was accustomed to frequent travel and action.

The forest surrounding Raspbrook made for an easy-enough ride for the pair. They had started early, and she made sure to pick their paths carefully and dismount to lead the horse on foot where she thought necessary. The map she'd been given was marked with the dragon's cave due north of the village and forest, and so that was where she had pointed them. She found herself fairly calm for most of the ride, alert to the chattering of birds and rustle of plants and bushes surrounding them but otherwise no more disturbed than if she were hunting a troll just before sunrise. The things were typically as stupid as they were large, and luring one into the early morning sun was an excellent way of incapacitating them for an easy bounty. While she was not foolish enough to believe that killing a dragon would be so easy, she found herself in that comfortable peace of mind and acceptance that what would happen, would happen.

And she expected to, at the very least, survive.

It wasn't until they came upon downed trees and a smattering of bones that Roslyn found that anxious tension settling in her belly. Her posture on the horse straightened while her grip on the reins tightened just a fraction. Beneath her, Zane's head tossed and his ears flickered. The rider shushed him gently and drew her sword. "Easy, Zane..." she soothed gently, just in time for the trees to give way to the maw of a cave. Her knees tightened around the stallion's girth, his hooves coming to a halt. The hunter's eyes narrowed, grip on rein and hilt tight and prepared for any move that might be necessary. She held them both still, all senses trained on any sign that the dragon would be there to strike and the horse beneath her ever-ready to move in an instant. They had both been trained well, and if she had confidence in anything, it was that, alone.

 

[Major Mario]

Upon seeing the cave at the edge of the forest, an experienced hunter would notice a few interesting and confusing aspects. First off, the mouth of the cave was massive and allowed just about any creature under the sun to take refuge within. A cyclops could build its version of a house in there while humans could just as easily fit a barn or warehouse within the rocky refuge. Ancient granite mixed in with with normal stone and showed no signs of erosion, though the floor of the cave looked as if a river had once flowed through here at some time, or perhaps it was years of activity dragging things that go bump in the night through the cave. With the sun rising in the sky, light bathed the mouth of the cave and highlighted the tall inner walls that followed the cave further into the mountain. The light also fell upon the nearby surroundings which were much too verdant if this was to be the dragon's lair.

Flowers, herbs and exotic plants grew close to the mouth of the cave and in such groups that one would believe they were purposely planted there. It was crazy enough to catch sight of the cave or to be near it, but to put the time and effort into planting foreign seeds near it? Either the dragon actually cared about its environment or there was a little creature it trusted enough to not eat like popcorn shrimp. The splendid array of colors and scents was marred, however, when one took notice of a nearby monster carcass. There lying on its side with a belly ripped open was what remained of a griffin, though a rather small one at that. The great eagle and lion mixed monster must have been killed a day ago or recently as the blood that seeped beneath it still looked fresh. A mess of white feathers over day-old blood created a sort of path inside the cave. Should Roslyn choose to follow the trail, she would surely find the dragon.

And if it was any consolation- and it wasn't-, the cave was unnaturally warm and comfortable while the surroundings were quiet... Caves were never, never comfortable.

 

[driven to drift]

Indeed, Roslyn had expected far-worse of her surroundings. Slain griffin not-withstanding, surely there should have been something a bit more...abhorrent, perhaps? The way the villagers and chief had spoken of the dragon, shouldn't she have been slain on the spot? But no, no beast lunged from the depths of the massive cave to consume her and her mount whole. Instead, the fairly pleasant scent of flowers and herbs mingled with that of the decaying griffin, some plants even she didn't recognize. The hunter's brow furrowed in a moment of confusion before she carefully and quietly dismounted from her horse, whose ears flickered in distaste. A hand lingered on his flank for a moment before she moved closer to the carcass, eyes darting occasionally to the cave's entrance for any unexpected movement. The tip of her still-drawn sword gingerly nudged the deceased creature, disturbing nothing from its entrails and jostling it only slightly. As if the blood hadn't been clue-enough, the still-stiff state of rigor mortis indicated the kill was still fairly fresh. And the trail of feathers and blood might as well have been a welcome sign.

Roslyn turned back to Zane who had turned to face her expectantly and she padded as lightly as her boots and gear would allow back to him. He exhaled a bit sharply as she lifted a hand to his nose with a soothing pat before glancing back down the cavernous opening. For a moment, she considered riding in, however being unaware of the terrain or even of the space within, she decided against it. The biggest of caves could narrow unexpectedly. Might as well let the horse escape on his own should her luck fall short. And so she pulled the quiver and bow from the saddle and settled the equipment across her chest with only a moment spared to make sure she could move as freely as possible. That finished, she stepped in front of her steed and pressed her forehead to his with a gentle stroke of his cheek.

"I know you understand me in there, you stubborn ass. So sit tight unless you hear otherwise." The faintest of nickers - an odd sound from the battle-trained stallion - sounded from him, velvet lips nibbling at the cloth end of the shirt tucked beneath her chest plate. She smiled to herself. "Good. Try not to eat anything unusual."

With one final pat and a kiss to his forehead, she turned with her sword redrawn and began the careful trek within the confines of the cave. Quiet and comfortably warm, she immediately found herself feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Her cautious steps quickened, though remained as quiet as her boots could carry her. She kept to one wall and made sure to round a corner only after a tentative peak around it. If, by some miracle, it had yet to be alerted to her presence, she wanted to keep it that way. If only to at least get a jump on what, exactly, she was facing.

 

[Major Mario]

Given how warm the cave was it seemed that the wyrm was close or in a nearby passage somewhere in the cave system. The rock floor was dry and reliable at first, but as Roslyn went along the ground began to moisten and fill up with small, scattered streams of water here and there. Natural water from a mountain rainwater pond had filtered down through multiple cracks in the ceiling. This allowed for sunlight to poke through and illuminate bits and pieces of the cave while allowing the water to support some cave life. There were no bats or birds inhabiting the cave, but there were plenty of bugs and nasty insects shuffling about. All of them wanted nothing to do with Roslyn and scuttled away from her only to be preyed upon by salamanders hiding in the gentle flowing currents of the nearby cave streams. It figured some kind of amphibian or reptile would make their home here.

Once the mouth of the cave disappeared from view around a corner Roslyn would begin to see less and less of the blood and feathers trail. Instead she should see plenty of scorchmarks on the cave walls along with silhouettes of past adventurers showcased within said scorches. Some bones could be seen around the blasted areas as well, but whether they were human or creature was anyone's guess. There were destroyed pieces of gear and weaponry, however, so it was very likely that the wyrm had either killed an adventuring party or protected itself from a hunter in the past few years. As Roslyn delved deeper within an amber light would be seen a fair distance away splashed against what looked to be carved rock and limestone. Scratches and scrapes were evident in the limestone while the strange amber light danced over each and every intricate detail. And the sounds! The scratching, shuffling and snorting! All of them came from beyond and echoed throughout the cave system!

Should Roslyn press on and show her courage, a peek around the limestone formations would reveal the den of her target. It was a great room large enough to erect a theatre within, and by all means it looked like it was an ancient theatre already. There were raised platforms of rock on both ends of the room while a flat expanse of stone covered the rest of the floor. Scattered over the floor was a great pile of hay, feathers and tall grass along with uprooted shrubs and small trees. They were all matted down to form what looked to be the wyrm's equivalent of a pauper's bed. Bloodstains could be seen against one of the limestone formations in the room while a great fire burned in the very back, though where exactly and how could not be easily seen as there was something in the way.

And that something was the target itself, the dragon that was plaguing the village of Raspbrook. It was a large creature well over twelve feet tall and just as equally wide. Auburn scales covered the wyrm's body from its legs to its serpentine tail while a slick patch of white or grey covered its underside and lower jaw. Its wings were folded tight against its body as it rested on top of its ill-gotten bed. The blighted beast must be asleep, or its attention was elsewhere as it wasn't looking over at the entrance to its den.

Whatever the dragon was up to, it would be a wise idea to make as little noise as possible if one wanted to attack it. An arrow might work, but one arrow never killed anything that large, and the dragon's vulnerable spot wasn't in view, nor was it known by any adventurer. Sneaking up to it might be a good idea, but there was a problem to that as well. Scattered all around the entrance to the dragon's den were small bones and bits of metal that would make a lot of racket should they be disturbed. And, to make matters even worse, a few plump toads hopped about within the den and stood between Roslyn and the dragon. This wouldn't have been a problem, but these toads were known as Screaming Meemies and... Well, they didn't like to be touched or disturbed.

 

[driven to drift]

Roslyn was forced to damn-near dance around the pools and streams of water that littered the cave floor the deeper she ventured. The insects were the least of her concern, although her disdain for them was evident by the occasional need to scoop them out of her way with the toe of her boot and an incredibly telling facial expression. While initially she had been incredibly grateful for the light filtering in through the cave, she was soon to wonder if it was truly a blessing or not. The true markers of the cave's primary inhabitant were a chilling sight, to put it delicately. She swallowed dryly as she stepped carefully over bones of a questionable source and was careful not to touch the walls where shadows of those past still rested. She was not squeamish by an sense of the word, but some superstitious shadow of her subconscious didn't want to take any risk in unintentionally acquiring their bad luck. Perhaps this dragon was the menace the villagers felt it was, after all.

The growing, echoing sounds sent a shiver down the hunter's spine as her grip on her blade grew tighter. She was, undoubtedly, stepping ever-closer to her mark, and her concentration narrowed in on keeping her breaths quiet and steady, and quelling her accelerating pulse. She daintily crossed the cave to the opposite wall, making her ability to peer around the limestone under cover that much easier. The space was remarkable, something easily judged by the brief sweep of it she had managed before her eyes fell upon a much more important focal point: the inhabitant she had been searching for in the first place.

Her first preposterous thought was to be grateful that she had actually left Zane outside of the cave; she had at least made one good decision, though it very well might have been her last. Her eyes landed on the dragon and widened just a fraction. The first dragon she had ever seen, and she couldn't say she had been disappointed. It was one of the most magnificent creatures she had ever had the pleasure of seeing, making it almost a shame that she was there to kill it. Copper-and-white-scaled - the shade of which almost gave her own hair a run for its money - and resting on a bed composed of an agglomeration of flora, she was very temporarily stunned into an awe-struck pause that was cleared with a shake of her head. That was it: her only chance to take it all in, because from there, it was her life...or its.

It was then she took a moment to analyze her surroundings and formulate a strategy. The possibilities sped through her head in a blur: a shot fired from the distance was a possibility, yes...however just how tough was the beast's hide? She had run out of her strongest forged arrows long ago and had yet to acquire the income to commission more. What she had taken from Raspbrook would be nothing more than a distraction at best, or perhaps an irritation. Particularly to a sleeping dragon. So her eyes then dropped to the ground beneath her feet and the space she would have to cross to get to it: his very-own minefield. She scowled and nearly groaned. The rare steel of the sword in her hand and the other daggers she was equipped with were truly her best bet, and while she was quite nimble that wouldn't make the task any less precarious and...

...a toad hopped into her line of sight, as though a taunt to the already-perilous challenge at hand.

Marvelous, she thought. As if this couldn't have gotten any more difficult. Yes, she was familiar with the bastard amphibians; they'd gotten her into some less-than-pleasant situations more than once. But what choice did she have? She was more ill-equipped than she had anticipated being, and it was fairly unsettling. There was, however, no feasible way she would turn tail and run. She would not have been long in her profession if her first inclination in the face of peril was to run. So, instead, she slowly, silently sheathed her sword and shook out her bare arms. With a glance up at the cave's ceiling she said a silent prayer to Sir Graham - followed, then, with an affectionate curse - before beginning the slow, dangerous trek into the dragon's den.

Her progress was just that: slow, but quiet, with her arms extended for added balance as she picked each step after a moment of deliberation. Thus far, she had avoided the damnable toads, but come very close to disturbing the cluttered assortment of bone and metal littered elsewhere. Her next step left room for only one foot, very steadily keeping her balance. She had made it about halfway to the dragon's bed and was carefully plotting her next step...when the blasted amphibians struck. Her right foot was more-than halfway down to the next open space when one such Screaming Meemie chose then to hop into that very place. Facing her and staring her down with soulless, black eyes. Taunting.

She recoiled with a breathed curse, however her balance had already been compromised and only made worse by the sudden reflexive jerk back. The instinct to keep herself upright out-competed the need to stay silent, and her right leg found purchase on a long-discarded shield. The metal clattered against the stone causing her foot to withdraw again and send it skittering with even more of a clamor into more metal and bone, the growing cacophony echoing around the high ceilings.

So much for being quiet.

Roslyn whirled and planted her feet on the ground, facing the inevitably rising dragon with nothing but a sheepish grin on her face and every muscle in her body tensed to dive out of harms way.

 

[Major Mario]

If there was a silver lining in Roslyn's situation, it would be that none of the Screaming Meemie toads were too agitated to scream and make the world miserable. Instead, as if they understood morbid humor, most of them turned and looked at Roslyn with those dopey eyes and pudgy mouths of theirs. If they weren't taunting before, they were definitely croaking amongst themselves and laughing their fat little asses off. The disturbed metal shield had smacked against discarded armor and bone and rattled the area just enough to rouse the copper dragon from its sleep. No mere creature or incessant little toad could have caused such a noise, so the dragon reacted accordingly.

The beast's wings unfurled from its large body until they were sprayed high in the air. Like the frill-necked lizards of the deserts this was a reactionary, instinctual response that made the dragon appear much, much bigger than it was. It wasn't needed; the dragon was already big to begin with. It whipped its head around and glowered at the intruder, Roslyn, with contempt and annoyance in its great golden eyes. No creature liked to be disturbed in their own refuge. It rose to its four legs and shifted its weight to stand tall before extending its head forward and growling.

A creature that large shouldn't move so fast, yet it was up on its feet like a dog after smelling bacon on a crisp winter's morning. The dragon reared its head back and looked prepared to strike, but then it opened its mouth and shook the cavern with an old, low and powerful voice from the back of its throat.

"You were planning to kill me in my sleep, were you not? What an underhanded tactic," it growled with venom laced in his tone. The dragon turned its body away from Roslyn just enough to prepare it for a fight. "If killing me is your task, it will be last task you never complete."

As the dragon spoke, embers could be seen between its teeth. Perhaps it was hoping to draw the human into a conversation so it could roast them. Maybe it liked to... cook its meals?

 

[driven to drift]

Oh yes: it was definitely awake.

For the briefest of moments, Roslyn watched without moving. It seemed to rise in slow motion, wings stretched high and making her feel much, much smaller than she already was in comparison. Not long afterward, she found herself under its searing gaze and the sheepish grin upon her lips fell away. Well, she had certainly disturbed it, and if there was anything she was familiar with, it was disgruntled beasts. The recognizable glare drew her own shoulders back and her chin up defiantly. She was nothing if not foolishly stubborn. Once on its hind legs, she was prepared to dash aside until it...spoke?

She discarded the shock at hearing its voice and instead did another rapid sweep of her surroundings to determine her next course of action. It had asked her a question, though. "Perhaps I was, perhaps not. Could you really blame me, though? I'm afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage, after all." She was not blind enough to miss the glow between its teeth, but would keep talking when given the opportunity. Should it strike, her next move was planned: what might end up being a fruitless dive for the shield she had tripped on. At the very least she would feel more secure with a wall somewhere beside her.

A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "An unfair first strike might have evened the playing field for the rest of the battle, not likely to have killed you. You have size, fire, armor. I have...what? A toothpick?" She could always talk, Sir Graham had often said far-too much. "Surely you're not afraid of a little nick, are you?"

 

[Major Mario]

"A mortal has many things that a wyrm does not, human. A stalwart will and a courageous soul can assist them in so many ways, even if they wield a 'toothpick'," the dragon chided.

It shook off the woman's mischievous smile and tone without much issue. This dragon had been around for quite some time, and as such it probably knew many tricks employed by previous hunters. On closer inspection, the dragon's hide and unarmored belly looked like they received a few blows and cuts in the past for there were plenty of scars and blemishes here and there. All had healed, though the small lines that went against the grain could not be ignored. The dragon shook its head and curled its wings back against its body before speaking up once again.

"The village beyond the forest has sent you to kill me, yes? Surely they realize that I am not the only threat to their existence, but it has been well over two-hundred years and seeing you here in my lair proves to me that they refuse to learn." The dragon edged forward like a creeping lizard and stopped a room's distance away from Rosyln. It bowed its head until it was at the hunter's eye-level. "Yet, I have a feeling that you can listen to reason. A rare thing... for a human."

 

[driven to drift]

The mischievous grin on her lips remained, no matter that the dragon seemed entirely unruffled by it. She didn't really suppose that it would be, though. Never hurt to try. However there was something that puzzled her: it had yet to strike and even continued to speak. The way the lovely Lord Tavish had spoken of it, she had expected to be nothing but char the moment it had awoken and found the intruder. "My, how flattering. Not words I would expect from a dragon." Nevermind the fact that she hadn't expected any words from a dragon. "I suppose it was that will and courage which got me this far, eh? Even if my underhanded attempt was utterly thwarted." Her guard wasn't down, but what else could she do but continue the conversation for the time being? There were some cases where even she knew not to be the first to attack.

Roslyn watched with some bafflement as the great beast's wings folded, and as it spoke once more, her smirk did finally falter while her brows knit together briefly. Well over two hundred years? Surely the people of Raspbrook hadn't been attempting to slay it for that long purely because they saw it as only a threat? It had to have been making off with people or something had it not? Pondering on it, of all things Chief Mustache had spoken of, that appeared to not have been mentioned much at all...if at all. Had she just forgotten?

The hunter was most definitely unaccustomed to her prey speaking so eloquently to her, and it appeared to have temporarily dropped her guard. The moment the wyrm began to move forward, however, she steadied herself for the worst once more. But, again, it stopped, and she found herself eye level with the great beast's head as it spoke. A neatly-groomed eyebrow arched high on her forehead. "Listen to reason?" she echoed before her arms crossed over her chest and her weight shifted over one hip. Where was this going? "...being that my interest in becoming another ash-stain on the walls of your humble abode is quite low on my list of things to accomplish at this point in my life, I would say you have my attention," she quipped lightly. To a dragon. The ridiculousness of the situation struck her abruptly and some instinct long-ingrained in her shouted to at the very least draw a weapon.

...but she did not.

Sir Graham would have likely called her fool and he might not have been entirely off base. But she found herself intrigued and still breathing so...why not?

 

[Major Mario]

At first the dragon did not respond to Roslyn's reaction. It stood there perched on all fours without moving as if it was in a state of petrification. Then, the embers that had once danced between the spaces of its large, sharp teeth receded back into the beast's throat. The dragon let loose a low growl that sounded more like an old man humming in thought and brought its head back in. It eased its stance and shifted into a more non-threatening posture with its front two legs placed in front and in the middle of its back two legs while its chest rose and puffed out like a proud, perched eagle. The head rose and towered over Roslyn, but she could still see those great golden eyes when it looked down its snout at her.

Somewhere in the distance a Screaming Meemie chirped and let loose a string of quick squeals before falling silent. Other than the faint crackling of the bonfire beyond, the den was now quiet. Yet there was no mistaking that if tension had sound, it would be filling the room without a problem.

A glimmer of amusement- or sadness- appeared in the dragon's eyes for a moment as it took a minute to examine the compliant hunter before it. Fiery red hair, a well-fitted breastplate, comfortable greaves and boots along with a well-maintained sword all assured the dragon that this was a young woman with some experience. A few sniffs also confirmed that this was, indeed, a female. Never could be too sure, especially when one considered elven hunters. There was also the faint smell of a horse at the mouth of the cave, but the dragon did not choose to investigate.

"I do try to avoid killing your kind, human. But like a bear in the woods that is focused only on salmon and its cubs, if I am attacked I defend myself no matter the opponent." The dragon snorted and steam came rushing out from its nostrils. "You have seen the griffin that lies beyond my lair, yes? This island is host to all manner of beasts, yet to those who reside in the village beyond the forest every attack was orchestrated by me. Had they seen the cockatrices, goblins and direwolves they may have had offered me some doubt. They turn a blind eye to their surroundings; the village is located right above multiple creature dens, for instance... Human, were you to see a wyrm like myself amidst a pile of bodies, you would believe it was I who had done a terrible deed, no?" Another snort, only this time with a bit of a chuckle. "I will admit I have not done much to clear my name on my own. Months of not eating will drive any creature to desperation... Though I assure you, my crimes are minor property damage due to carelessness, and, well, slaughter of cattle."

The dragon remained still and patient, and other than the swaying of its large tail behind it, it didn't look like it wanted to fight. Should Roslyn choose not to interrupt, the dragon would finish and hesitate for a few seconds before chuckling once again.

"It is nice to have pleasant company for a change."

 

[driven to drift]

Every raw second of her years of training told her that none of what went on before her very eyes should have been happening. The moment of silence between them as the dragon shifted his own position to one of more comfort than threat gave her more than ample time to just...watch. With her arms still crossed, she subtly pinched the underside of one arm. No, not dreaming. Very much still alive and awake. And while she couldn't say she was relaxed by any shake of a sword, she couldn't say she felt ready for battle any longer, either. This wasn't right, none of it. She was supposed to slay beasts that attacked and harassed those who hired her with purpose, not ones who would sit and have a blasted conversation. Some part of her still wished to err on the side of caution, expect some trick. Perhaps it - he? Surely with a voice like that it was a he? How was she to gender a dragon? - liked to chat with its meal before roasting it? She had no intentions of seceding as a meal too quickly and yet...she still didn't feel quite right.

The pair observed each other for a moment in the pause, Roslyn's green eyes reflecting the caution she still felt coupled with the ever-growing curiosity of what he had to say. She took only the barest of instants to scan the seated dragon, noting the smattering of old scars and yet otherwise regal creature. Her attention shifted back to his eyes when he began to speak once more. The more he spoke, the more foolish she felt. She had accepted the bounty too quickly, too in need of a new task and the offered reward to learn much of anything about the area. She knew nothing of Raspbrook save for where it was established and the rumors of the job she had then accepted. Sir Graham's number one rule floated through her mind and she smiled wryly to herself: always learn the very basics of the area with which you are to hunt. The bastard had been right again. And she was the fool...again.

Another brief pause as she eyed the still-passive dragon once more. She wasn't too certain on how to read him for honesty, but the threat she had felt had diminished drastically. That last little comment of his, though, was the straw that broke the horse's back, so-to-speak. Casting a glance behind her, she offered a laugh of disbelief before slowly dropping onto her rear with her knees bent up before her while the sheathe of her sword bumped and scraped against the stone floor beneath her. She rested her elbows on her knees and rubbed her hands over her face.

"Me? Pleasant company? You must not get many visitors not seeking your neck if I am pleasant company," she mused, though her tone was far-more good-natured than she felt at the moment. Her hands dropped away from her face and draped over her knees as she gazed back up at the dragon's eyes with a fairly apologetic smile. "I can't help but feel that I owe you an apology...had I actually done the investigation I should have prior to accepting the task, I should hope I would have known better." Or she still would have at least moved to investigate if only to say she had slayed a dragon. Pride was an ugly thing. A sigh puffed past her lips, disturbing wisps of hair that danced before her forehead. "Then again, I've not been much for brilliant decisions as of late. But, ah well..." She trailed off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I suppose we'll both leave without bloodshed at the least. I have no desire to fight with you any longer. It appears I have made quite the mistake."

Another thought struck her and her head tilted briefly in thought. "I...perhaps I should return to the village, then. See if I can talk them in to leaving you be, although the indomitable Lord Tavish does seem a fair-bit skittish. It would, ah...be the least I could do to atone for disturbing you." She shifted somewhat uncomfortably in her seat. She felt at fault for the situation, and maybe even a little overwhelmed that she sat speaking with a dragon who spoke no direct malice to the village its home was near. Or her, for that matter.

 

[Major Mario]

The dragon looked positively delighted to know that Roslyn was no longer irritated or anxious in its presence. Its tail continued to sway for a moment longer like that of a content canine, and its head tilted every so often when it listened to the young woman speak. Despite the sheer difference in size and power, the dragon appeared to be treating the woman before it as an equal, or at least a welcome guest instead of a possible assassin or threat. It seemed to like looking at what the woman was doing with her hair, but it was hard to tell when its eyes were the size of cannonballs and the woman was so bloody tiny. Yessir, all appeared to be well and good, at least until the woman commented about returning to the village.

At this the dragon lowered its form and snapped its head down to Roslyn's level once again.

"No! Wait! Hold for a moment," it hissed. It sounded more like a begging request than a command and the dragon itself took notice of it and snorted rather bashfully. "Please. Leave the village be. The less visitors I receive the better. I enjoy conversation, that you now know, yet I do not wish to play host to humans who should be tending to their crops and people. It is better that the village thinks that I am the menace they make me out to be." The dragon let loose a low grumble as it continued. "Those who do not heed their warnings and come for me are either courageous and determined or foolhardy, and I believe you are the former if your self-restraint is anything to go by."

The dragon lowered itself down into a prone position with its legs tucked under it and its wings sprayed against the floor. It extended its neck to glance over at Roslyn once again from its resting position.

"I appreciate your consideration, human. But if you would please stay and listen I would have- I require your assistance if you are willing to listen." The dragon paused for a moment before continuing with, "I have not asked for your name, haven't I? Nor do you know mine... In your tongue, you may call me Leon." Another pause. "Or was it Leo? No, no... It's Leon."

 

[driven to drift]

The dragon's abrupt transition back to her level caught her off guard, and while her heart leaped and for the briefest of moments she worried she had fallen prey to deceit, she was soothed in an instant by the tone of his voice. Her posture had straightened the best it could in her seated position, curious at the new-found request. So he would rather face the invariably few hunters who would dare to try their luck against him than deal with the comings and goings of villagers? She supposed she could understand that...her own dealings with people were generally limited to business exchanges since her mentor had passed, and she was not fantastically disappointed by that in the least.

The vaguely amused smile returned to her lips as she leaned back onto her outstretched hands and let long legs lay flat before her, crossed at the ankles. "I'm not so sure courage is what made me rethink my initial goal, be careful with that flattery," she joked, watching with subtle interest as he lowered to an even more restful position. The thought struck her for what seemed the hundredth time since the start of their conversation: she might as well have been having tea with a dragon for all the casual words and posturing they were exchanging. But that moment of amusement was quick to pass when, instead, he introduced a request for her assistance. Who was she to deny him something so simple after sneaking into his home with a mind for bloodshed? Her brows lifted in the pause and she nearly opened her mouth to interject when he brought to her attention that they had missed the most genial of niceties.

Roslyn did not rise as a broad, toothy grin pulled across her lips, but did push off of her hands and fold her legs enough to offer a seated bow that was little more than a somewhat awkward bend at the waist and sweep of her hand. "Well I must say, Leon, I am very pleasantly surprised to make your acquaintance. I am Roslyn, your very own shame-faced hunter ready and very willing to listen to what you have to say." At that, her tone reflected the sheepish shift in her smile. "You'll have to excuse my etiquette, as my upbringing left much to be desired in that respect."

 

[Major Mario]

Once again the dragon, Leon, looked delighted to see and hear that Roslyn was willing to listen to him, let alone tolerate him for a moment longer. He even offered what was supposed to be a happy grin, but a dragon was not very expressive and all Roslyn could see was a toothy lowering of his lower jaw. Kinda creepy, actually.

"If you pride yourself on being a hunter, then what I am about to say may interest you. Are you familiar with the legend of Wyrmrock, Roslyn?" Leon asked as he pulled and dragged her name as if he was savoring the sound. "It is an ancient land here on Earth known for the many dragons that reside here. You see very little of them these days; most have gone up north where the mountains are plentiful and the humans are scarce. Centuries ago a renowned band of wyrm hunters were the catalyst for this great migration. They killed many of my kin, yet I am not bitter. Their tools, tactics and numbers were great, as were their artifacts."

Leon looked back to the fire burning in the back of his den and noticed that it was dying out. He extended his neck and snorted before spitting a glob of fire into the primitive bonfire pit. The fire cleaved in on itself before bursting back into a roaring inferno. The copper dragon looked back to Roslyn and once again huddled back into a resting position as if nothing had happened. Perhaps he thought Roslyn was a little uncomfortable on the cold stone floor and sought to make it a little more bearable.

"The Wyrmslayers kept many artifacts imbued with powerful magic, and they used these artifacts during their battles with my kin. I have been listening to any rumors and whispers as to where these artifacts may be, and so far I have heard of one... no, two to the east hidden deep within the mountain range." Leon lowered his golden gaze to the ground as he continued. "Getting to the artifacts, however, require the cooperation of a wyrm and a human, or a similar humanoid. 'Blood must be shed before the gatekeeper', as an old Wyrmslayer text states. I can only imagine that these artifacts are well guarded and will benefit both you and I, though I only know of the first artifact and not of the second. A shield capable of absorbing dragonfire, the first artifact is... Blast. I have spoken too much and offered you little chance to question. Is there anything you wish to ask?"

 

[driven to drift]

Was he...was he smiling at her? The expression certainly was odd on a dragon's maw, and yet she found herself more amused than anything. She leaned back on her hands once more, head tilted enough that the end of her ponytail fell back over her shoulder. He certainly held her attention rapt from the first words, her brow furrowing temporarily in thought. Sir Graham had regaled her with legends and stories from the time he had taken her under his wing and at some point she had realized too-late that she had stopped listening. The one he spoke of, however, she had heard of, although was not entirely certain what he was leading to with it.

She had a moment to ponder this as Leon briefly shifted his attention to the flames behind him. The casual expulsion of fire sent a shiver down her spine, and she wasn't entirely certain of the cause. Perhaps it was the realization that she could have been on the receiving end of the inferno...or perhaps it was the sudden realization that, indeed, the stone beneath her was rather chilly, even through her pants. She dismissed the concern in favor of meeting the dragon's gaze once more while he continued his tale.

Artifacts? Her mind churned over the information, struggling for any recall from anything Sir Graham had told her. There was most certainly something familiar about it, at any rate. Her brow had furrowed in thought once again, lips pursuing and relaxing before her bottom lip was ultimately drawn between her teeth. A shield to absorb dragonfire? Sir Graham had mentioned something of that, although spoke of it as little-more than a wistful dream. He, himself, had never faced a dragon, so far as she knew. She hummed a moment. If one of such artifacts had that sort of power, she could only imagine what the others would have.

"So...a dragon and human must cooperate to obtain these artifacts...and blood must be shed? So they must battle together?" She hummed, her questions more her thoughts to herself spoken aloud than one requiring a real answer. "I am not-so-sure I have a good question as of yet," she mused with a fairly awkward laugh. "Although I would wonder what benefit they might have to you? Unless we keep them out of the hands of those that would attempt to do you and any other wyrms harm." A hand pushed aimlessly at a loose strand of hair that had fallen before her eyes. "At any rate, I can't say that I'm not intrigued...so you wish for the two of us to
cooperate and pursue these artifacts, then?"

 

[Major Mario]

"If you would not mind this young wyrm to shadow your footsteps and lull you to sleep with boresome tales of mountains and goats, then yes, I would much appreciate cooperating together in search of these artifacts," Leon replied in a jovial tone. He raised himself back up to his feet and paused on Roslyn's musings. "You ask a good question, Roslyn. What benefit would these artifacts be to me... To be honest... No no, I'll answer that some other time."

The dragon would have liked to give the woman- who was quite pleasant actually- a good reason as to why he was asking for help or searching for wyrmslayer artifacts, but in all honesty he had very little to work off of. He simply did not know nor care about the benefits of the artifacts to a wyrm such as himself. All that he knew was that he wanted the damn things and would not be defeated this time. This young woman was pleasant, willing and able to adventure around, so this time, he figured, would be the last attempt. If he even got one artifact, no matter how big or small, all those years spent hunched over old tablets and books would not be wasted.

Leon craned his neck and looked to the entrance of his den as if straining his ears to hear something in the distance. He snorted once again and shook his wings before descending upon Roslyn and fixing her with his golden gaze once again.

"I fear that being seen with a wyrm such as myself will bring nothing but trouble for you. I wish to help you avoid any unwanted attention, so if you would please shield your eyes..."

Before Roslyn could attempt to catch his attention or stop him, the dragon slid back onto his feathered roost and pulled his wings in. The great appendages dragged across the stone floor and disrupted the straw, hay and feathers beneath the dragon as if a black-powder bomb had gone off before it. The result was a sort of farmer's smokescreen, though there was some kind of draconic magic mixed in there as well. There were too many feathers and too much debris surrounding the dragon; it had to be magic! Once the dragon was completely covered, the debris took one large spin around it before falling apart and flying off in every direction within the dragon's den.

Once the feathers and straw settled down back upon the dragon's roost, the reddish-copper form of Leon was no longer visible. Instead, sitting in the middle of the great pile of hay and straw was a man. A rather rugged and dirty-looking creature with a head of unruly auburn hair and a very simple set of leather padding over his body, but a man nonetheless. Through the dirt and grime it could be discerned that the man looked to be approaching his thirties if he was human, though he was somewhat tall and lanky; the scholar type. He searched through his feathery roost with his dirty hands and pulled out a weathered traveler's knapsack before standing up and waving at Roslyn.

"Would this be better?" the man, Leon, asked.

 

[driven to drift]

An amused grin tugged at Roslyn's lips. Well, she had gone so-far as to stop and converse with him, might as well add traveling with a dragon to her list of life accomplishments. And who knew? Perhaps these artifacts would truly be worth whatever hassle they might be to obtain. She pushed herself to her feet and idly dusted off her pants. "Better tales of mountains and goats than an old hunters' tales that I have heard and told a million times before," she mused before straightening and setting her hands on her hips with a gleeful smile. "I could use a good adventure."

It had been some time since she had had a traveling companion beyond her own mount, Zane. It would take some readjustment, and she was not entirely certain how they would maneuver the inevitable villages and cities they would encounter along their way in a subtle-enough manner. She supposed he could sit back in hiding at times while she restocked or gathered information. And then at night he could walk - or fly, she remembered - around it and hope that he wasn't seen? It would have to be a case-by-case basis, she guessed. It most definitely was not the most troublesome hurdle to overcome, in her eyes.

The hunter's immediate instinct to begin to plan ahead was soon to be proven unnecessary. Leon voiced his concern, to which she shrugged8iki, and yet before she could even think to open her mouth to dismiss it, he was moving. She ducked and covered her eyes on instinct at the abrupt covering that obscured her image of him. The atmosphere, itself, seemed to change, that inkling of a sensation that accompanied the presence of some form of magic tickling at her nose and throat. Just as she was about to peer back through her own fingers, though, the debris exploded in every which direction, her arms sparing her face from the occasional strike.

After a moment more, she dropped her arms slowly, cautiously peering over a forearm to witness the settling material and then the baffling figure that appeared before her then. She blinked once, then twice...and then her jaw fell slack. By all initial inspection, he was a man - granted, a dirty one - not much older than herself, and had a dragon not been standing where he sat moments before, she would not have assumed anything otherwise. She had heard rumors of dragons possessing a magic of transformation but this was...incredible.

She realized he had risen and spoken to her and snapped her jaw shut while her arms fell back to her sides and her cheeks warmed in chagrin. She carefully worked her way closer to the nest and, well, Leon. She stopped a short distance before him, eyes not quite shielding the awe she still felt although she addressed him in the same manner she had been doing so earlier. "Well, my horse will most certainly appreciate this form better," she joked though her eyes still studied him curiously for a moment for any obvious giveaway. "Although we might want to get you cleaned up a bit before we go about facing people." She smiled and lifted a hand to rub at a kink in the back of her neck. "Other than that, I suppose we are ready to be off?"

 

[Major Mario]

A little bit of warning should have been in order, but Leon figured that he was simply too enthusiastic and raring to go to let Roslyn in on his little secret. He patted himself down and shook off a bit of dust that had gathered on his shoulders. Being that he was a true wyrm and was not able to go outside without attracting much attention, bathing was not something he did regularly. He'll have to clue Roslyn in on that in due time, but perhaps as a human he could just abide her little comment and get himself cleaned up as soon as it was possible to do so. The raggedy man ran his hands over his shins and knees to pat them free of dirt and grime before raising his fingers to his hair to pick away at a few tiny crusts that were tangled there. Humans were certainly clean creatures, he remembered, though it depended on the person and village.

Now that he was really eye-level with his new companion/partner, Leon could see Roslyn more clearly. As she rubbed the back of her neck Leon's golden eyes drifted to her pair of green orbs. A rare color as far as he was concerned. Next he was intrigued by the red color of the woman's hair, which he was able to properly examine now that he was so close. A small, simple tugging of his lips showed that he either approved of the hair color or just found it fascinating. After all, a dragon being so close to a mortal wasn't something that happened everyday, and in this case it seemed that the dragon was more interested in the human than vice-versa.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry," the disguised wyrm muttered. He remained silent for far too long after Roslyn asked her question. "Yes, yes, let's be off! If we make good time we should be able to get to the very edge of the eastern mountain range before nightfall."

Leon was about to continue, probably to recount a story of a legend or what not when the sound of Roslyn's black stallion, Zane, echoed throughout the cave system. Rather than a simple snort or the clopping of hooves against rock, the sound that cut through the caves was that of Zane neighing in what seemed to be a mixture of anger, surprise and terror. Another element was added over the distressed neighing and it was a particular creature's cry. No, not just one creature but many of them as more and more cries and squawks echoed throughout the cave. It was a terrible noise that belonged to a disgusting conjoining of woman and bird, known to many as a harpy. Judging by where Roslyn last left her stallion, the sounds were coming from the mouth of the cave.

Indeed, should the two humanoids take action and retreat back to the mouth of the cave, they would find the ungodly animals circling about the carcass of the recently-slain griffon. Leon's good deed of slaying a monster had attracted the scavenging harpies, and they, being opportunistic little critters the size of a fully grown woman, turned their beady eyes to Zane as if the stallion was dessert. Leon shot a sheepish look Roslyn's way and then glanced back at his feathery roost.

"I uh... Did you come on a horse?" he asked as if it was the only thing he could do in this situation.

 

[driven to drift]

In the silence that spanned between her question and his answer, Roslyn was given just as ample of a time to truly process what she had just witnessed. He was a bit difficult to gauge with the amount of grime that covered him, but she supposed the most unusual thing about this form were his eyes, yet and still. And it was then, amidst her own musings, that she realized he was assessing her all the same. And...was he smiling again? She felt an uncomfortable tightness in her chest as warmth crept up from her neck and towards her cheeks. She wasn't used to being watched so closely, even if it was more curiosity than anything else. She cleared her throat before he seemed to realize he had yet to answer her question.

Her discomfort abruptly shifted to an alertness that typically only came with the awareness of danger. Zane's roar, a noise rarely heard from the well-composed stallion, and the cries that followed prompted the hunter's expression to darken as she immediately launched into a sprint towards the mouth of the cave. The moment the first of the chimeric creatures came into sight, she moved before she even thought, yanking the bow from across her chest and withdrawing two arrows from the quiver on her back. Her gaze darted towards Leon at his fairly sheepish question and her jaw clenched slightly. "In fact I did, and we'll also be leaving on the same horse."

Her attention shifted back to the circling, shrieking harpies and Zane, who stomped and danced around their swooping claws. She moved more towards the middle of the cave's entrance, nocking the two arrows she'd drawn and raising the bow, the string drawn back to the corner of her mouth. Her tongue folded to the roof of her mouth and she whistled loudly and sharply, drawing the attention of not only the scavenging creatures, but also their would-be prey, whose ears remained flat against his head. Immediately, the horse kicked outward, catching a distracted harpy off-guard with a hoof to the abdomen before bucking and galloping towards her. The clop of racing hooves bounced around the stone surrounding them and one of the harpies charged forward after the horse and new potential snack. Unfortunately for the harpy, this was not Roslyn's first dealings with the woman-bodied creatures, and when it was close enough to make evasion difficult and Zane past her squared shoulders, she loosed the arrows from her hand.

The harpy had barely a moment to respond, one clipping a wing while the other buried into the center of its chest accompanied by a piercing shriek as it recoiled backwards and dropped. Of course, this did manage to draw the attention of the rest of the group, as well. While several remained scavenging at the griffon's carcass, a few of the others turned and shrieked their discontent at her. She reloaded her bow with well-practiced ease and smirked. "Disturb your meal, ladies?" she taunted to an answer of a choir of screeching discontent. Her green eyes darkened all-the-more. She was generally apt to keep her cool, however the threat to Zane was not something she took kindly to. "Good." One such creature swooped forward first and was greeted by the unleashed arrow embedding itself damn-near between its eyes.

A couple more followed, to the dismay of the still-stamping and snorting stallion that had circled back to shuffle warily behind her. The harpies may not have been the only reason for that, however. The unfamiliar humanoid was likely not helping the situation, either. Roslyn, however, was very much still-focused on the task at hand. An arrow caught the first advancing harpy in the shoulder, not killing it though encouraging it to retreat back and scrape at the painful object embedded in its flesh. The other reacted similarly to a strike in the abdomen. Roslyn discarded the bow for the moment and drew both her sword and the fair-sized dagger sheathed at her opposite hip. "Take your scraps and go, you vultures!" she shouted with several steps forward and a threatening gesture of her blades. She was far from done with them if they chose to stick around and fight.

 

[Major Mario]

Harpies were fearsome in groups or flocks and could easily tear apart an unaware group of adventurers. Hunger and desperation brought out the worst in any creature, be it man or monster, and a harpy was not to be underestimated when the first true meal in days was in its sights. However, alone or in small numbers a harpy could be dispatched without much difficulty. Falls that were not cushioned were often fatal, and any wound that hindered their flight capabilities spelled disaster should twilight fall upon the land and reveal the other opportunistic monsters lying in wait. Plus, any true predator knew that it was better to go for the sick or weak, and Roslyn was anything but weak.

The two wounded harpies, though enraged and provoked by Roslyn's arrows, knew better than to proceed. They shrieked and stepped back when Roslyn took several steps forward with blades unsheathed. Their disgusting features contorted in pain and anger, yet not one of them wanted to advance for fear of losing their lives. Even the harpies at the griffin corpse disengaged themselves from their feast to scurry away. Though a dangerous nuisance, a harpy would always be a scavenger; the crow amongst eagles. The flock chittered and shrieked amongst one another and at Roslyn for a moment longer before counting their losses and scattering off into the forest and sky.

Only the two fallen harpies remained. Their fresh corpses would soon be picked apart by the other harpies once the adventurer with arrows and blades left. A dull thump filled the air as another harpy slammed into the ground at the edge of the forest, the very same harpy that received the mortal arrow to the abdomen. It flailed about and wailed for a few seconds before falling still. And then the entrance to the cave was quiet once again. Marred with dead harpies and a rotting griffin corpse, but quiet nonetheless.

Had they known that the cave housed a dragon, the harpies would have probably stayed away. And speaking of the dragon himself, Leon came from behind Roslyn and took a look around to take in her handiwork. His eyes drifted to the dead harpies and then to the griffin corpse. An embarrassed blush rose in his cheeks, not only because his handiwork had attracted the flock of harpies but because he had been of no help to Roslyn. He at first thought it was a good way to figure out if she could handle herself in a fight, yet he could not deny that this was not the best first impression on his part.

Leon picked at his side and remained silent for a moment before the snorting of Zane startled him and shook him out of his thoughts. Despite a few scratches the stallion was unharmed. It was good that Roslyn reacted so quickly!

"They'll be back," Leon muttered. He turned to regard Roslyn and found it difficult to make eye contact. "Sorry I wasn't much help. Transforming takes a lot out of me and I'm not used to fighting in this form. But you did well- very well, actually! Are you and your stallion unharmed?"

As Leon spoke he made no effort to hide his wariness of Zane. He stayed at a room's length away from the stallion as he awaited his new partner's answer or chiding.

 

[driven to drift]

Another threatening step or two and the shrieking creatures finally took note of their poor odds and scattered. Roslyn's chest rose and fell dramatically for just a moment before she shook her head and sheathed her blades once more. She paid no heed to the last harpy that fell and instead turned in time for Zane to snort, toss his head and then nicker affectionately as he trotted back towards her. Her expression softened immediately. Her hands lifted to meet the stallion's large head as his forehead pushed into the palm of her right hand and the left reached up to stroke his cheek soothingly. She murmured gently as she steadily moved down his neck and around his saddle and the other equipment strapped to him. She assessed the few scratches - shallow, though one or two might leave a thin scar - and only then did she relax more completely. She patted a muscular haunch and sighed. "All is well, then, eh boy?"

She actually flinched when Leon spoke, startled by the extra voice and having, embarrassingly, forgotten he was even there. She blinked and both horse and rider turned their attention to the additional presence. Zane's ears perked forward and he began to stamp uncomfortably. A cautious snort followed as his ears flattened against his skull. Obviously, the stallion sensed something amiss about the otherwise humanoid-appearing acquaintance. His rider, however, simply rolled her eyes and swatted at the beast's flank. "Oh shush, Zane. You are fine and so is he." Ears flickered forward with another snort as she rolled her eyes and stepped around him to head closer to Leon.

She honestly hadn't thought much about the fact that he hadn't moved to help. She had been long-accustomed to fending for herself and so not having an additional hand with the harpies was par for the course. She waved a hand dismissively to emphasize her point. "Really, Leon, don't worry about it. We are both fine, and, if I'm honest..." Her smile became sheepish. "...well, I might have forgotten you were there, at any rate. It will be a little readjustment for me to be traveling with someone other than him." That comment she punctuated with a point of her thumb over her shoulder. "And if you'd like, we can work on your fighting some other time," she shrugged. "But you are right - they'll most definitely be back, so we should probably get going."

Roslyn clicked her tongue, a hand on her hip as she stood several feet before Leon. Zane steadily made his way towards her and halted with a nudge to her shoulder that prompted her to pat his neck once more. "At any rate, this is Zane. He can be a fair-bit sassy, but he's incredibly loyal and the smartest horse I've ever had the pleasure of riding." The pride in her smile was certainly not unfounded; she had hand-picked, raised and trained the young stallion. He was considerably more calm than he'd been moments before, even with the transformed dragon standing close. But there was something still-wary in his posture that Roslyn was immediately tuned into. "It might take some time for him to truly warm up to you, but I assure you it will be fine. I might be able to pick up another horse if needed, as well. Especially if you will be traveling most-often in that form. In the meantime, however..." She paused and hoisted herself effortlessly into the saddle, the reins gripped in her hands as she settled herself and nudged the horse closer to Leon.

She grinned and extended a hand. "Have you ridden before?"

 

[Major Mario]

Roslyn meant well, but her comment about forgetting he was even present stung Leon the wrong way. An embarrassed shade of red filled his cheeks and he couldn't help but look away with wounded pride evident in his frown. Dragons were naturally proud creatures who prefer to hunt alone, and if they were to assist someone, they expected a little bit of recognition. But Leon shook his head and looked back to Roslyn before he let his pride get the better of him. Again, she meant well, and there was no point in pursuing the matter any further.

But damn, that stung!

He watched as the red-haired woman introduced her partner, Zane, and smiled when she spoke so highly of him. This was a beast of burden who the hunter had either grown up with or gone through many trials and tribulations with. This was a very, very important and respected friend, and it was heartwarming to see a human care for something that wasn't an item or another human. The disguised wyrm edged closer and examined the black stallion with downplayed curiosity and, while he wasn't as interested in Zane as he was with Roslyn, he was reminded of an ancient horse of legend that looked very similar to the one here before him.

Once Roslyn had saddled up and offered a hand to him, Leon took the opportunity to speak.

"I've ridden before, yes, but it was more like a ranch hand on a rowdy bull. No horse so far has tolerated me... Though I suppose it has to do with me being an unfamiliar rider. Thankfully most scampered off back to civilization instead of lingering near my cave for any longer." He examined the hand before him before gripping it in his and attempting to place himself behind the experienced rider. "That... And I've been kicked in the chest too many times and flung too far for my liking."

Once the disguised dragon was situated on the black stallion he would take a quick glance around at his surroundings. The forest was just as Roslyn left it, though the sun was no longer at the top of the sky. It was starting its descent and would take many hours before night fell upon the land. The bushes and foliage rustled with little creatures running through them while the griffin corpse continued to be a blemish upon the overall beauty of the area. But at least the area was safe.

"We'll need to head east from here," Leon stated as he pointed in said area. There was a simple trail wide enough for a horse in that direction. "There's a crevice about an hour away from here; that's where a purewater spring is. We can stop by there and gather some materials for the journey ahead if you're lacking any." He paused for a moment before asking, "What was that about fighting?"

 

[driven to drift]

Roslyn noted the redness in his cheeks and was momentarily confused...until she realized what she had said. Her own cheeks flared lightly, but she wasn't exactly sure whether or not she should apologize. Her own social etiquette certainly left much to be desired, but she supposed that came with the territory of traveling with only a horse for a year or so. But the moment passed more-quickly than she could make the decision and so she moved past it. She would make it up to him later.

Zane, for his part, was wary, but trusted his rider more than words could express. As Leon moved closer, the stallion's ears flicked forward, deep brown eyes curious though still a fair-bit wary. The scent on the dirty humanoid was not at all what he was accustomed to, and certainly the air around him was not like any other human he had been around. But, again, even as Roslyn got herself situated in the saddle, she was as calm and comfortable as ever, and he could sense no ill-intent from the stranger...and so he would accept whatever was expected of him. For the meantime, at any rate.

Leon's hesitance brought an easy smile to the huntress' lips. "Well, I will do my best to make sure this old boy does not kick you in the chest. He should be well-enough behaved, they much I can assure you." While it was true that her steed had been known to be temperamental with foreign riders - he had even thrown Sir Graham once or twice - his current mood was not fouled by the harpy attack.

Roslyn assisted Leon into the saddle behind her to the best of her ability. She shifted as far forward as feasibly possible, and only released his hand when he seemed stable-enough. Zane shifted and stamped his distaste about the added weight, but she shushed him with a gentle click of her tongue and a light tug on the reins still held in her other hand. She felt the immediate difference as well, though, with the unfamiliar presence and warmth of someone pressed up behind her. She did her best to brush the thought from her mind; there was no reason to dwell on something she would adapt to in time. Instead, she focused on his words and nodded, nudging them to the trail he had directed them to.

"Pure spring water? That will most definitely be of use," she mused aloud, if only to have something to say. But then came his question as Zane picked his path amongst the foliage at a confident, steady walk. She turned her head enough to catch sight of him from her peripherals. "I can teach you to fight with a sword, if you have yet to learn or just need some practice. Or a bow and arrow, for that matter. It might not be necessary, but it is certainly a good skill to have in this realm of humans." She shrugged and turned to face completely forward once again. "The decision is yours, of course. I won't force the issue. But my offer will stand if ever you decide you're ready."

 

[Major Mario]

Leon was thankful that there indeed was a purewater spring to the east. Not only would the pure water heal and rejuvenate any who stood ankle-deep in it, drinking the water would help speed up the process and refresh them before they headed out once again. Finally, a dip in the spring would allow Leon to bathe and get the dust and grime off of his body. He had neglected the water's benefits as a wyrm. In his true form he was much too large to bathe properly, and being that he was all alone on a daily basis dulled his self-consciousness. It wasn't until Roslyn came around did he realize that he wasn't clean and he aspired to do something about that just as soon as they reached the spring. He figured the red-haired adventurer would appreciate not having his dirty body pressed close against her for the time being until the spring came along!

But as he shifted in his seat and gazed around at the forest he was so used to flying over, he began to realize that he was enjoying being this close to Roslyn. It wasn't a riot or an arousing time; instead it was a peaceful one. The touch of another, even if it was indirect, almost always had a calming effect on another. Leon's hands remained on his thighs to steady himself, yet as time passed he began to wonder if it would be better to wrap them around Roslyn's stomach for support. For support, he told himself.

"If you have a dagger or shortsword, I'd be willing to learn how to use that," Leon replied with a bit of an embarrassed tone to it. Physical skills weren't his forte it seemed. "But I'm not completely helpless in this form. Most wyrms are capable of using magic, and I'm one of them. Mostly offensive spells and incantations, though I do remember a few spells that might invigorate you should you need it."

Magic was a rare thing here in Wyrmrock, but if Leon suggested that he had a good grasp on it, for a wyrm, perhaps he was right. The path wouldn't offer much resistance for the two and, besides the occasional harpy or bird that flew overhead in search of food, the traveling was nice and quiet. It was a welcome reprieve after the tense moment with the griffin corpse and harpies earlier. Out here with nothing but the green trees and shrubs to keep you company, you could really disconnect from the troubles of the world. But for a social butterfly, it was probably hell when they were alone. Leon played with his fingers against Zane's hard skin for a moment before he asked another question. Might as well pass the time before hitting the spring; in his stomach he reckoned there would be some action up there...

"So... Roslyn," Leon muttered with a shrug of his shoulders, testing out her name once again. "Do you mind telling me a little about yourself? You know, what you like, what you do for fun, that sort of thing?"