Hic Sunt Dracones [[RedStreakW]]

[graverunner]

“This plan is liable to get you killed,” his former mentor would have warned him, “mortally wounded, limbs gruesomely removed or burnt to a tidy crisp.”

His former mentor would also have added in a beat later with a knife-sharp smile,

“It's brilliant. Try to make it back in one piece, hm?”

Higher stakes inevitably meant better rewards, and there was no better place for such than the area which every young kid growing up knew was the source of gold and glory.

Trevalion Covert --- that sprawling institution which housed the famed riders, their dragons, trainers, handlers and any other number of people needed to keep such a huge place running efficiently --- was only ever open to the general public three times a year:

During the summer solstice, spring and yuletide festivals.

Luckily for Kell Hallam, the first happened to be underway right now and all around him were people too busy engaging in feasting and merrymaking to pay much attention to a lone thief slipping his way ever closer to the inner chambers of the covert. Intricately carved doors and gateways sighed and parted way for him easily as he coaxed them to open to him with clever fingers, the gazes of eyes that happened to chance across the brief, shadowed flicker of his form only sliding past like water, and Kell found himself steadily gaining deeper and deeper into the heart of the covert.

It branched off then into a twisting, complex path that went on forever. Or at least, it seemed that way to Kell, who had been walking for a while now and still not the smallest glimpse of anything of value to greet him. He was beginning to think that he was mistaken (dragons and gold, bah, mere stories after all).

He had burst through a pair of ornate bronze doors, into a curiously sparse room and onwards past a semi-circular archway etched with scenes of draconic battle glory. The short walkway attached to this, emblazoned with more of the scaled, serpentine form, led to the mouth of a cavern where a cold, whistling wind emanated. At this point, he was well and truly turned around, his mind entirely fixated on his goal that he didn’t even stop to wonder at the strangeness of a room that opened out into what seemed to be a labyrinthine subterranean tunnel.

It occurred to Kell halfway, steps thudding loudly against packed ground and dirt, that perhaps his luck had not quite held out and that he was heading away from the covert instead. This could be some sort of war passage that had been dug out eons ago that afforded an alternative route out to the main city. He was proven wrong when the endless stretch of brown shifted into that of dappled blue spilling out in intermittent bars, the light bright enough after the darkness of the tunnel that he had to shield his eyes for a moment before his vision finally cleared and he was greeted with a luminous blue pool. And beyond that gold, precious gold as far as the eye could see and Kell knew that the stories had not been exaggerated after all.

 

[RedStreakW]

In the murky depths of the covert, he watched over his gold from a few steps away. He pawed at his muzzle with the same distaste and pettiness that had defined his last few years there. He had been trapped, muzzled, gimped, abused, yet he had his gold and he had his reflecting pool. Yes, a dragon without a rider... one who defied all possible new riders as well. Most other dragons would laugh, assuming they would ever see him. They would laugh and then they would fall, for even without his breath he was the very mark of pride, elegance and power. He would crush them.

Of course, Oratus would never leave his gold to fight other dragons. He was comfortable, if wounded emotionally and restricted vocally. He, with is powerful draconic eyes, saw a wisp, a master of stealth, wander into his lair. He stayed still for a moment, watching the actions of the thief, ready to toy with the poor fellow.

However, there was a pang within Oratus, something he hadn't felt in a while towards another living being; the stranger fit, somehow, in his lair. His natural desire for a unified aesthetic was not at all disturbed by the introduction of the thief, and in this he felt some pleasure.

More importantly, Oratus felt calm around a humanoid for the first time in a while. He watched, his muscles tensed, but he was ready to not kill the stranger. Perhaps he'd toy with him, or let him go with some wounds... or even less. The blue-scaled dragon couldn't be sure.

 

[graverunner]

It was like an illustrated scene out of the picture books he had coveted when he was younger; gold and precious jewels and a mish-mash of other shiny objects peeking through (the jade-encrusted hilt of a sword, the gold-edged curve of a shield) stretched out as far as the eyes could see.

"My god," Kell breathed out, brushing his hands reverently across the precious metal piled up around him as he strolled past. He stopped in his tracks when his fingers snagged on something. A fine silvered chainlink. Pulling on it gently, what looked like a ruby fashioned into stylised narrow wings swung before his eyes.

It was the sort of mistake a fumbling, clumsy, wet-behind-the-ears beginner would have made. Never, ever make assumptions.

It was not that he wasn't on his guard. He still kept himself within running distance of the entrance, eyes and ears primed for the slightest hint of any sound or movement. Dragons were huge creatures, anyone could attest to that. No matter how quietly or sneakily they could move, Kell was sure it would be near impossible to miss one should they finally be alerted to him.

What he forgot, however, was that dragons were also very patient creatures when they wanted to be. Settlements and cities could come and go, civilisations crashing down only to rebuild themselves again, and all of these could pass by in the mere blink of an eye to them. Time meant nothing to one who could live ages upon ages. This meant that they could lie still, undetected from any sort of prying eyes, for a long, long time if they wanted to. There were stories of dragons in the wild who had lain down so long in the distant towering hills and mountains that they were almost one with the surroundings.

When Kell finally spotted, out of the corners of his eyes, a massive form that was distinctly non-human with eyes glittering in the dark fixed firmly on him, the thief found himself going very, very still.

 

[RedStreakW]

The variety of magic items, gold coins and fancy pieces of equipment imbued with gems filled the thieve's eyes with greed, but to the cynical Oratus, it was merely the average, the expected. However, as the elf entered the light fully, Oratus smiled a grim smile, realizing how valuable a gem just entered his lair. He grabbed a massive claw-full of gold with a sneer, letting it fall through his hands before stepping towards the strange thief.

"Drop the gem if you expect to live, elf." Oratus demanded in a booming, deep, rich voice. It seemed he was speaking only through his mind, using some sort of dragon magic to enter Kell's mind. He realized something, suddenly... he could potentially get the poor little elf to remove his vile muzzle.

He kept walking forwards until he was towering above the invader. He growled once.

 

[graverunner]

It wasn’t difficult to see that the intruder standing before Oratus possessed a slender physique, the elven blood running through him imbuing his limbs with the sort of litheness needed to nimbly twist, duck and escape at a moment’s notice, and it was made all the more obvious now with the creature suddenly towering above him.

The dragon was silent enough that it was only the tinkling of the gold pieces that fully alerted Kell to his presence. Though there was a moment or two before, some sort of shift in the air that had sent a prickling all up and down his spine, and Marcel had leapt to the side even before he had truly comprehended the reason for this.

When he caught his breath and had steadily unfolded himself back to his full height from the crouch he had landed on, Kell found himself having to look up, up and even further up as the full length and breadth of a blue dragon stared impassively down at him.

Kell dropped the gem.

“I am more than willing to hand it back over to your capable care,” he said, raising both his hands and waggling his fingers slightly to show that there truly was nothing, projecting as much faultless innocence as he could into his voice which was tinged with the vaguely lilting accent of his people, “and take my leave. I’m sure someone as illustrious as you has better things to do than waste his breath on an inconsequential human like me.”

 

[RedStreakW]

Oratus reached out one claw and pressed it hard into the floor of the cavern with a powerful stomp. It sent Kell slightly off-balance and set the gem bouncing back into the large horde. He moved in close and looked Kell up and down with careful eyes, and Kell could see the scars all across his face and body. He had certainly seen combat before. He could also notice the large metal muzzle binding Oratus' mouth, preventing him from speaking or using his elemental breath.

"Tell me, Elf. Why should I not kill you? You enter my lair, you steal my riches... why, you're a criminal. In fact, I could probably make good use of whatever coins you have on you... and I'm sure you've seen an artifact or two in your lifetime." he says, slowly raising his hand over the elf to intimidate him. Of course, Oratus didn't really want to kill the elf; he was immensely curious about the sly little creature, and wanted to see what direction the elf might take next.

 

[graverunner]

To say that he was in a precarious position was an understatement... But. But the dragon had not snapped him in half yet, and if there was a way to buy time Kell would take it.

“Calling me a criminal would be just a little bit too severe,” he answered, words pouring out smooth as silk even as his heart ratcheted about in his chest. “I merely avail myself of an object or two where they couldn’t possibly be missed. Clearing out the some of the odds and ends.”

He swept into a half-bow, inclining his head in as formal an apology as he could before drawing himself back up again, eyes glinting with the idea that he had alighted upon.

“Forgive me. Anyone would be grumpy having a stranger enter into their abode with nary an introduction. I do not think there’s anything on me that I could exchange to gain pardon. Coins are all well and good but,” he gestured towards all the glinting gold surrounding them, “they cannot surely compare to what you have already amassed.”

“I’ve been told, however, that I am good with my fingers,” and Kell held them up here, a gold coin winking in and out as he rolled it across before disappearing when he gave a flashy shake of his hands. “Fingers that would be small enough to undo that muzzle of yours. Certainly a tawdry look to have for one so noble.”