Dragon Quest 2

It is said that the dwarves have some of the greatest blacksmiths to have ever arisen among any of the civilized peoples of the world. And while this is technically true, what to the rest of the world are those considered blacksmiths, are not quite considered the same way in Dwarf society.

For the dwarves, there is no real ‘blacksmith’ vocation as one might know it in other cultures, instead all dwarves are thought a martially magical discipline known as the Vo-ruk, a form of spiritually enlightening combat, where the users are taught to literally carve stone with their fingers and beat metals into shape with bared fists. Masters of this art create weaponry as part of their art, creating intricate and masterful pieces with magically attuned auras and the violence of their arms. Weapons and items which come from this process are seen merely as tools which allow their utilitarian principles to be satisfied.

Usually it is the youngest of adult dwarves who wear and use the armours and weapons created by their kin, who’s mastery over the intensities of the Vo-ruk sharpen to an incredible level. Indeed the only elder dwarves who wear and use such toys are those who are specifically not warrior trained; a strange thing to hear from their culture which is known for its universal range of fighters.

Of course considering that Dwarves slowly become living stone as they age, it almost goes without saying that few non-dwarves have ever become adepts at the Vo-ruk, a true requirement necessary for the handling and shaping of their most precious of metals, Adamantine.
-Othalar Durnkind ‘Scholar of the Grand Library’














(Roll communication Challenge 40: +15 Planning Bonus = [15:45] <+qqbot> Xi|Wrk rolled 1d100: 42 = [27] + 15)

Interesting.

You cannot help but feel the swell of pride as you stared upon the forms of the two creatures before you, foes who thought to best you in your own domain. Their defeat encouraging you to let loose a cry of triumph as you look back over their burnt bodies with pride.

Still, you wonder what you should do with such bold morsels as these?

Mayhaps you should devour their flesh, you could see within them radiating weakly the power of spirit along side of the fleshy forms, the investments of changes impressed upon them. They would not be a lacking meal for your very first.

But no.

Better for such creatures to be put to more productive use, your memories tell you. Such communities under the thrall of a strong dragon could do much to slake your desires, so long as you were careful in dealing with them. You ignore the niggling thought that maybe they were not representative of the true strength of their hive, that indeed you may be biting off more than you were willing to chew by not abandoning your claim to this convenient lair into which you’d been born. You paid such unworthy thoughts little heed.

Instead you would busy yourself with more subtle matters, as you began to look closer at the light which emanated from them in communicative pulses. It was not as easy going as you’d first hoped, the light coming out and the sounds being made a barrier in and of themselves due to some form of code which passed between the two, leaving the communication scrambled from simple interception.

But ultimately it didn’t matter; such simple things could not hide from you your prize. And though your own throat was still too young and unsuited for making the sounds of these soft creatures, you would be able to bypass such trivial limitations as easily as if you’d been a more physically focused introvert or a mentally focused creature. No you would not need anything save your own ingenuity in order to make contact in a meaningful way.

It was tricky going, but you would finally make your break though after several minutes of looming menacingly over the creatures, enjoying their cowed expressions even as the burnt one held one hand against its face, and the other who had completely shed its suit, glared in that helpless way your memories all told you to savour.

The look of prey without any tricks left to try.

You stretch your claws against the still pulsing floor, savouring its shivers beneath them, tapping them in pattern with the encoding sequences which sought to hide your desires from you even as you pulsed contact in the code of your foes, broadcasting your Radiance in the pulse and frequency which you knew would allow you to be understood.

Carefully you plucked though sequences of light as they radiated out from your foes, the frantic chatter of their high Elven dialect would allow you the chance to smooth and perfect your understanding of the dialect which they were using here. Slightly skewed from the one you knew, your mothers own memories as she terrorized tree homes of wild elves into submission, the powers of death itself were hers to elementally command.

Ah... there you go. With a little more effort and you would be in...

Yes.

Time to let your will be known to the lesser creatures before you.

*|*|*

“Alanor is hurt, and I had to get out of my suit... we’re down Iorik.” The tall young elf maiden spoke into her transmitter, thankful that despite the radiant interference she wasn’t taken completely out of communication with the Watchward, merely scrambled it a bit.

Anis could barely keep her calm as the creature stared at her and her injured partner intently, like pieces of meat being judged for fitness to be consumed. At least however the thing wasn’t trying to make a move, contented it seemed with the fact that they’d been brought down.

Hopeful it would stall for long enough that aid could be brought in. Though she wasn’t sure that their sector could spare many more heavy duty subdual units; to neither the sizzling light which had emanated from its body as it fought nor to the riotous blaze which poured from its mouth, leaving behind a burning trail.

“Shit... Ok hold steady. I have Malik and his unit on their way.” The Watchward communicated back, his coordination of the rescue effort ongoing even as he spoke.

“No... I don’t know what surprises this thing has otherwise. The breath thing it did and the rads damage are evident that we’re dealing with something a bit trickier than usual. I don’t want to be tossing people into the grinder to this thing.” She swallowed her pride, and her hopes of extraction with that observation.

Hell, if that thing could keep up what it had down to her and Alanor, they’d just be sending up a bunch of people to get killed here. Hopefully the two of them had simply pressed it’s triggers, and it had responded with violence. It seemed a lot calmer now.

“You’re the encounter specialist. You sure you don’t want at least a Lure team?” The Watchward spoke, tension evident in his voice.

“No, just keep a Yewman squad handy, and some Lures... if communication cuts get it out in the open before you try to kill it... this thing’s way too dangerous in close quarters.”

“You’ll make it.” The Watchwards voice cut though, a simple statement, but it meant a lot to her.

“I...” She had been about to respond when something else, a sharp noise made itself evident.

*BUZZ*BUZZ*

Her eyes were quickly drawn back to the beast as it’s proud chest puffed and swelled, and its wings spread wide, enlargening it’s profile before her.

She tensed.

*“Who are these impudent wretches, who interrupt my thoughts with their intrusion?”*

Anis’ eyes flew open, the crackling quality of the sound startled her, it’s rough approximation of an elvish voice, far too harsh, leaving her wondering for a moment just who the hell was pulling a prank like this during such a crisis?

*“Elvish fools. You trespass on what is mine. I have claimed this place and I will not be driven from it.”*

She couldn’t help it... her eyes widening as she realized the source of the transmission. It... no it couldn’t be. Sure there were plenty of really intelligent creatures produced from the wombs, and even some which learned rapidly due to the magics which imbued them.

But this was the first time she’d ever heard of any actually speaking to them.

And more than that... it had somehow accessed the communications systems in order to do it.

“You hearing this?” She practically whispered.

“... I’m hearing it. The hell is going on in there Anis?”

“I think... we’re dealing with something a bit more complex than the average type M.” Her lips shook at the notion, whatever it was, and curiosity now warred heavily with the need to get away, to leave before this unknown danger. She was supposed to be the admin dammed expert on this shit.

Maybe it was some kind of trick? Someone had programmed in these responses? It made some sense, at least more than she was willing to admit to with something this extraordinary before her. The Magi-maker in her stirred with wonder. Maybe it was a prank? Maybe it was just repeating lines given to it as part of its genetic programming?

* “Be gone whilst I am still willing to release you whole. Return not without an offering of tribute, lest my tolerance of insult wear thin.”*

She watched as it flared itself up one more time then turned around, sweeping about its tail in a majestic move fit for a kingly beast, leaving curiosity to briefly war with plain old desire to survive. She’d take a chance, she decided, pushing her companion aside so that if she drew it’s ire she’d be alone in her death.

“Wait.”

*|*|*

Your head turns, the creature beseeches you despite her life hanging by a thread.

“Tell me something at least... You’re smart right? You can actually understand me?” Her voice was nervous.

Contemptuously turn your head about, looking upon its soft exposed body. How dare it question your wit? Ignorance was correct. Such appalling ignorance, you’d already decided to spare its life... else you would have slain it right there and then for such a question of your faculties.

*”Of Course I do, you long ear monkey. How could you believe else wise. My patience has limits, creature.”*

She curls inward a bit with your hiss of contempt which accompanies your words.

“Alright...” She stumbles slightly eyes still glued upon your form, and then grabs hold of her companion and leaves. You don’t see it fit to listen in on the further chatter as you look back at the patch irradiated by your breath, and lay down in comfortable sleep.

You are awakened some time later with the sound of another approaching; it too wears the flesh covering which the other elves had adorned themselves with, but it is not alone... several more elves wait behind it, each one garbed in a light cloak of living flesh, and holding weapons akin to bows with arrows notched.

So, they did not heed your warning, and instead come back with another approach.

“Someone seems to have been trying to make a dragon, and gotten too successful it seems. It matters little, creature, agree to come out and we will take you somewhere where you may feed and be studied. Clearly you’re a success story if ever we’ve seen one. The Director itself has empowered me in this. Come with us, abandon your occupation of this area, and we will not retaliate against you.” It spoke with confidence. “You will be studied, you will be catalogued, and you will come with us, either by your own will or by force.”

You glared with contempt.

This is the thanks you get for being magnanimous you suppose.

Still you must think of your course of action here. Your breath has already been used and although your killing light remains, you would need to be creative to make it thought.


Carefully you make your decision.





What will you do?
[] Surrender yourself to their mercy?
[] Fight? (Write in)
[] Some thing else? (write in)