Getting One's Wings

[iapetus]

(OOC:  I am aiming to hopefully make one of my Urgal Characters a Rider in this thread, so if anyone has a character that could feasibly be ferrying dragon eggs through the Spine for the Urgals, please join in!  Other than that I don't have any particular plans for the thread or characters, so consider this largely open.)

---

  Wind blew the trees, in harmony with the sound of footsteps through the forest as the hunting expedition wended their way along old paths and trails.  Birds whistled and squirrels chattered at the Urgralgra as the rams made their way labouriously through the trees.  After two weeks they were finally finished and had only to carry the prey across their shoulders and seek the widest path for passage.  Just as the way began to clear, the scout detailed to the front signalled for a halt.  Grateful for the rest, the meatbearers set their quarry down for a brief respite.  The scout's conference with the party's leader consisted of short, guttural phrases.  Its meaning was soon evident to the weary rams, however, as scents of smoke and cooking meat wafted through the forest.  There were others ahead.

  Leaving the carcasses where they lay, the Urgralgra crept forward.  The clomping from before was replaced with almost noiseless slinking as they stalked a new prey.  What lay ahead could start a fire, and no cave bear had been known to do that.  As the noon sun cast the forest shadows upon them, they approached the treeline and took stock of what lay ahead.  A few stone buildings, many more wooden huts and some leather conical tents peppered the clearing.  Most were decorated with cloth strips hanging near the doorway, and between them fires flickered as meals were cooked.  Amongst the buildings, and more frequently near the treeline, were tall wooden poles seemingly each carved out of a single tree trunk.  The faces carved upon them snarled out at the forest, menageries of tooth and fang, fur, talons and snouts.  Black eyes gazed out of brightly coloured visages, heads stacked on top of each other like peas in a pod.  Bears, wolves and boar featured frequently among the depictions, but almost every pole featured the same two images at the top.  The first was the head of a dragon, coloured bright blue with flames spilling around the tongue between open jaws filled with gnashing fangs.  The second, sometimes above and sometimes below, was a white face with the joys of battle written clearly on it.  Below this face was always a sword, just as blue as the dragon, wreathed in flames that flickered up and down its length.  While dams went about their work and children played, sentries stood duty surveying the treeline.  Behind the miscellany of people and buildings a stone wall rose.  Built as high as thirty feet in some places, most of it stood at only half that, clear evidence that time had taken its toll.  Behind the wall glimpses of other buildings could be seen, and older carvings of wooden poles.  Everything stood and moved against a backdrop of sheer cliff face as the mountain they were perched on lifted itself higher into the skies.

  Unnoticed, the warriors lurking in the shadows waited for a signal to move. The leader looked to both sides, horns swinging back and forth as he viewed his men and watched the sentries for any sign of change.  Taking a deep breath, he cried a war cry that shook birds from the trees and charged into the clearing, his rams close behind in speed and volume.  Shouts filled the Urgralgra town as the sentries rushed forward, lifting their voices in challenge to the hunters the forest had spewed into their midst.  Chaos broke forth as dams began shouting at their cubs, rushing to guard the fires and tents.  The little ones began screaming as well, rushing towards the hunters into the madness.

 The screaming turned into laughter as they were caught up in the arms of their fathers and uncles and tossed skyward, only sometimes being caught by the same pair of hands that had thrown them.  Havoc spilled further into the town as word spread that the hunting party had returned, and many hands made for light labour in bringing the fruits of the Hunt to their prepared places.  Revelry was funneled in the passages between buildings as stalwart dams fended off dangers ranging from eager hands reaching in pots to knots of rambunctious rams and cubs threatening the stability of various edifices. 

 Vahrrnglk made his way homeward through the mayhem, happy to let others bring the Hunt's rewards the last step of the journey.  He and another Kull had been given  the largest Urzhad to move and it had been a wearying time just making it through the trees, let alone up the mountainside.  Normally the cave bear would have been butchered in the forest and packed for easier carriage.  However, he pride of the Gronth Tribe rested on the Hunt this night.  A Meet was scheduled with two other tribes nearby, and they were further honoured to host an emissary of the Riders.  While the Meet went on there would also be a presentation of the younger ones, mostly cubs, before dragon eggs spelled to be bound with future Riders.  As yet there had been relatively few Riders from among the Urgralgra.  This was something the Gronth and other tribes hoped they could rectify over the next few days.  All this was the reason for prolonged festivities which would be kicked off with a massive feast that night to honour the Riders' emissary.  Shrrg, Nagra and Urzhad would all be cooked on spits over immense pits, the largest of them for the full duration of the three days.  Many other dishes were being prepared as well, utilising both the fruits of the forest and of the stepped farms that peppered the mountainside.  The Riders' aversion to flesh was wellknown, if not well understood, and there would be immense amounts of meatless Urgralgra cuisine to tempt their palettes.  

 Once past the wall, the architecture changed dramatically.  The vast majority of buildings were of stone work, although many were augmented with timber where erosion and other damage had made their way.  Bright cloth banners with intricate designs still hung alongside knotted ropes near doorways, but the carved log poles were noticeably older.  The colours on some was worn off or dulled from many summer suns.  Talons and fangs were chipped, and the face with a fiery sword no longer appeared.  Fire-breathing dragons' heads were still evident but where the blue face had been noble in appearance, these were savage and bloodthirsty.  Not a hint of intelligence could be found, although the semblances' fierceness was contrasted with the occasional birdnest choking their mouths.  Further back towards the foot of the caves the buildings began growing taller, some reaching up to three or four stories.

  His sister was at the door to greet him when Vahrrnglk approached their home.  Single, he still lived with his family until such time as he had a mate of his own.  Even then, it was not uncommon for households to consist of several generations if the occasion warranted it.  She bared her teeth, pleased as always to see that he had returned without losing anything important.  

 "The hunt went well, then?"  She got some amusement from his fatigue, obvious from just looking up at him. 

 The Urgralgra's odd ruk-rukking laughter spilled down on her as Vahhrnglk thought over the past weeks.  "It went well enough," he replied.  "Although a Shrrg took out a chunk of Ahnjl's horn before it went down.  He did not stop complaining about the pain until he was told to head back home to the healers empty-handed if it continued bothering him so badly.  Now he has a war scar that will be the result of taking down three of us with the Old Blood singlehandedly, and just by the end of the next moon if I know him at all.

  "I see I have not been overly missed, what has been so important that the others would deny the Great Hunter his homecoming?"

 His sister scowled at him, reaching up to twist one of his horns in play.  "Agh, mercy!" The Kull cried out, still laughing as she released him. "I see my homecoming is to be tinted by depravation on all fronts."  A second scowl quickly led him to backtrack, "And I am sure that depravation is good for the soul!"

 "You know full well that Mother has been running like a headless Feldunost trying to complete the arrangements for the Meet and the other business.  With Shades on the loose, everything has had to be checked over for safety ten times with as many different people.  It does not help that the tribes are being as contrary as ever with the formalities of the Meet.  You know the dams get just as much pleasure fighting for their tribe's pride of place as the rams do in the contests," Her pride for her own tribe and mother was clearly evident.  "Karzhan has disappeared again, although with the eggs approaching I have a good idea where he might be."

Vahrrnglk knew as well.  Sighing, he headed off to the clearing where the emissary was expected.  Somehow, whenever there was trouble to be had it was his younger brother who managed to find it.

  

[Crown]

OOC: It has been a while, so here we go.


Amethystine wings pressed against the clouds of the Spine, taking great gouges from the misty cover. Each wing beat was punctuated with the resounding Whomp, whomp, whomp. Each rhythmic thunderclap marked the miles as Abbadon neared the Meet. The deep purple dragon had been flying by cloud cover, using the winds off the highest peaks to orient themselves. Straight from New Duro Arabea, across the great desert and into the Spine. The journey had been a long one. The former rider fortress deep in the desert had served as a temporary respite. Seth was still wearing the dark plate mail from his days in the war. Melantha had desperately tried to goad him into replacing the old suit but to no avail. The smoky, burnished steel absorbed more light than it gave off as the thick scarf warded off the brunt of the icey moisture. Abbadon and Seth rode in silence, as they often did. No need for much verbal communication when your minds had become nearly indistinguishable from the other. It was quite the contest at this point, who would break silence first? Dubhan had not inherited his father’s aptitude or silence, but at least he has his father’s tenacity and his mother’s intelligence. Seth missed his boy fiercely, but his duty as a rider had not afforded him much time with his son.

Seth reminisced on his own childhood, right here in the Spine. An odd village, with older customs and a strict expectation on conduct. Living in the harsh climes, not ever far from Urgals, everyone was expected to be a warrior, in some form or fashion. Seth’s entire village had left the spine to join the rebellion, and Seth’s Rider training had been on the field of battle, not in the safety of New Duro Arabea. This new generation of Riders would have many advantages Seth had never been afforded, and would also miss some critical lessons that had saved Seth and Abbadon’s lives on more than one occasion. As to whether that should be lauded or mourned, Seth still had not found a clear answer. The clouds parted and the area cleared for Abbadon’s landing was clear, save for a young Urgal Cub and younger adult male. Seth’s familiarity with Urgal culture, as well as the fact that Seth had no aversion to eating meat had been the reason why he was to be the new Rider Emissary to the Urgal tribes, until a suitable Urgal Rider was found. The summer wind in the Spine was still cold and Seth’s cloak and hood billowed around him as Abbadon’s wings bowed the pines of The Spine like supplicants before their master. The Purple dragon’s amethystine scales refracted the dark light around the clearing as the wine colored wing membranes bathed everything in a nearly crimson glow, before folding in tight to his unusually bulky sides.

Abbadon’s great lilac eye made a quick snick, snack as he focused on the small Urgal cub staring up at him, horns still barely budding. The rolling thunder of Abbadon’s voice pulsed through the clearing, his lips drawing back into the draconic version of the Urgal’s snarling greeting. Ivory teeth as long as a large dagger were revealed as the dragon lowered his immense head down to ground level, “Hello there little cub. What is your name?”. Seth and Abbadon both had a soft spot for children, and Seth had been fascinated with the Urgralga since he had fought alongside so many of them during his service to The Riders. Seth unpacked the saddlebags and loosened the leather straps holding the smooth wooden reliquary housing four dragon eggs. Quick and efficient motions as Seth prepared the wooden sled to pull his supplies and the eggs. Seth finished unburdening Abbadon before turning to wait for the arrival of the Urgal host, slowly drawing his burgundy hood, revealing crisp blue eyes and close cropped blond hair. Seth had no plans on allowing the Urgal host to pull his burdens. The Urgal focus on personal strength suited Seth perfectly. Abbadon the Destroyer and Seth, Pale Rider were proud to pull their own weight. Seth turned his gaze to the adult Urgal standing not far from the cub and offered him a snarling grin, a light sparking in those cold eyes, blue as a clear winter sky.

[iapetus]

[OOC: Karzhan is about 20, so I'll assume he is the older one in the clearing. Few Urgals around here remember that dragons are sentient and capable of speech, so that should be fun. I also don't really know how etiquette works in this kind of RPG, so... as a heads up, I may be adding several NPCs to fill the town out. Feel free to add some yourself, and permanently take over or temporarily power play anyone I create outside of Vahrrnglk's family (atm, that is Vahrrnglk, Karzhan, their mother and their sister). Also, too tired to proofread, so apologies for everything I didn't catch. ]

---

The trees lined the clearing, waiting patiently. They had all lived long enough to know that was was clear now, would eventually be theirs. Even as the ruins near them had crumbled once, so would this clearing and all empty spaces someday serve as a nursery for saplings yet to sprout. The trees stood tall, proud in their independence from the time that wore away at tiny legged-ones with such speed. Time had no meaning for a forest. Where one tree fell, another would take its place. That tree would have its own successor, and so on until the end of time. Even if the ground was not the same, the forest would live on. A Forest was the closest that life could come to immortality, this side of death. The trees reared their head with pride, knowing their strength and magnificence.

***

Thunder tore through the town, belying the bright afternoon sky that still shone over the mountain. Whoom. Whoom. Whoom. Vahrrnglk looked up and saw an immense shadow in the sky, growing larger with every clap of noise. The wingbeats were louder than a marching army or any beating drum. They were matched by a growing darkness as the shadow, circling around the town to approach a southern clearing further down the mountain, came between them and the sun. Vahrrnglk hurried his pace, running faster than a horse now. If Karzhan were to meet the Rider unsupervised, who knew what might happen? His tongue was gilded enough to get him in more trouble than it got him out of, and the penchant for finding mischief was distressingly strong even now, into his twentieth summer. The Kull had to avoid innumerable cubs and shove several people out of the way as he forged a path to the clearing. Mothers were looking for their brood, final arrangements for the Meet and the Choosing were being finished and those expected to greet the Emissary were trying to shove their way in the same direction as Vahrrnglk. After clearing the bulk of the town and making it into the forest, only a few seconds were needed for the Kull to arrive at the edge of the clearing. Karzhan was there with a cub. Orm. It was like him to use chaperoning a younger cousin as an excuse to be where he wanted. Doubtless the ram had suggested they wait at the clearing for the dragon to land, and the cub had jumped at the chance. The only question that worried Vahrrnglk was what had enticed his younger brother to come here at all.

***

Karzhan and Orm watched in awe as the dragon came in to land. The ram noticed his younger cousin rubbing his horns in amazement. The horns were a source of newfound pride for him: they had just begun to show the day before, and if the Meet were not the next day he would doubtless have been sent out to prove his ramhood already. Its massive, beating wings temporarily flattened all the trees bordering the clearing, bending them down almost to the ground with gusts of wind sent forth like the wrath of Ungarzha as the dragon touched down. It was immense, more in girth than anything else. Without seeing such a creature, Karzhan could never have imagined that anything could be so large in every proportion. He had been much younger the last time a dragon had arrived, and it had left memories of great height. This amethystine monstrosity, however, exceeded anything memory could have prepared him for. The only thing that could have surpassed the dragon's physical size was the amount of noise it made. While it landed, speech was all but impossible. Scales scratched together as it moved, and even the eyelids could bed heard snicking when they closed and opened. The young ram idly wondered what a dragon cracking its neck would sound like. Everything about the purple beast was so enormous that the Rider on its back seemed almost lost to sight.

That changed once the Rider jumped down, cloak billowing around him. He, for underneath the dark armour the figure was unmistakably a man, stood over six feet, higher even than some Urgralgra. The thick blonde hair and blue eyes would undoubtedly have made him attractive to dams, if not for his lack of horns. Both he and his mount were clearly veterans of many battles, something that would be respected here. While he did not seem much older than Karzhan, the man bore himself as though he had already seen a lifetime of hardship and pain. Knowing that Riders aged as slowly as the trees around them, the ram wondered if he had participated in the Second Dragon War, in which Karzhan's own father had died.

These thoughts were brought short as the dragon brought its head low to the ground, snarling at Orm. The cub froze, apparently too shocked to move. His eyes ran from the Rider, to the dragon and back again. As Karzhan watched the Rider's unpacking, their gazes met and a savage gesture, part smile and part growl, was exchanged between the two. The Urgralgra knew, in that moment, that the lack of horns here was belied by a kindred spirit. This one knew the joys of battle as well as its sorrows, and would not hesitate to use force if it meant protecting that which was important. This was something all Urgralgra were expected to understand, and would earn him great respect among the tribes.

"Well met, argetlam and Firetongue" Karzhan picked up his head, but spoke in the humans' tongue, "I am glad to be the first to greet our Emissary. We have looked forward to this day for many moons, and are well pleased it is arrived. I am Karzhan, son of Garnogthrk." A voice from behind arrested his speech.

"Well met indeed, Abaddon the Devourer and Seth, Pale Rider. Atra esterni ono thelduin" A dam's voice bellowed from the just inside the treeline. Unlike the rams, who were clothed only in loincloth and baldric, she wore a leather dress and a sash with colours both bright and dark. Approaching the group, she awkwardly twisted one hand over her sternum, raising her head high. Karzhan winced, recognizing the dulcet tones of his mother. "I am quite glad my son at least was here to greet you. It seems you fly even faster than we were told," She spoke to Abaddon as well as Seth. "I am Zhugra, mate of Garnogthrk. On behalf of the Gronth Tribe and all Urgralgra, I welcome you.

"We have made preparations for that which you bring. Considering the dangers posed by the Shade's army, they are to be kept in a room deep within the tunnels inside the mountain. Guards will be posted at all entrances and throughout the tunnels to provide early warning of any attack and you," she addressed Seth, "will of course be able to supervise the Choosing constantly. The position is easily defendable but due to its location, Firetongue, you will not be able to watch over the eggs personally. We will show you all the entrances so you might keep watch however you see fit. I hope these accommodations are acceptable?" Her tone brooked no dissent.

Considering the Rider's carriage, held rather possessively by his side, she turned and ordered Karzhan to take it all towards the tunnels where the eggs were to be kept. "And I will have no argument from you," The dam told Seth. "Aside from being our guest, the best time to attack you and take the eggs would be as they are moved to the tunnels, while Abaddon is still on the ground. If we are to be ambushed, your swordarm is far better spent defending the eggs than fleeing with them."

[Crown]

OOC: At this point Abbadon is bigger than a four story apartment building and if any Urgal has seen a dragon before, they will be able to tell that Abbadon is abnormally bulky for his size. Think Scandinavian Strong Man. He has Myostatin-related Muscle Hypertrophy from being confined in an egg for to long.

Abbadon turned his head to face his other eye towards the party of Urgal. A Dam in a leather dress twisted her hand over her chest in an attempt at a traditional greeting, going so far as to say it in elvin. Seth turned from the young Kull towards the older Dam, Seth squared his shoulders and raised his head proudly. Every motion seemed contained and almost elegant for his size. The Dragon Bond had already pointed his ears and pulled at the corners of his eyes. One of Seth’s biggest curiosities was of the effects the Dragon Bonding spell would have on an Urgal. Urgal strength and combat prowess was legendary, and their athleticism was unmatched. Kull frequently outpaced seasoned chargers. Seth’s voice was a clear bass as he squared his shoulders and walked towards the Dam, his head held high. “Zhurga, Mate of Nar Garnogthrk. We are visitors to Ugralgra lands, let Abbadon and I greet you in a way that honors your people.” Abbadon’s head reared back, his black claws digging into the earth of the clearing, gouging great furrows into the dirt the length of a man on his back. Seth matched the gesture, throwing his head back, exposing their throats. Abbadon roared, Seth bellowed a savage cry and together their greeting shook the very earth under their feet. A gout of pale blue flames lept into the sky from Abbadon’s open maw and painted the trees in a ghostly light. Birds and beasts for miles suddenly took flight and after a few seconds, the forest was deathly quiet while Abbadon and Seth bent their heads forward to clash skulls with the greeting party.

Abbadon made his voice heard for everyone present. “I greet you horned ones. Your kind are strong and impressive in battle. Your fathers fought well at the battle of The Burning Planes. Let us to be strong and bear our burdens with pride. No Shade dare face The Destroyer and The Pale Rider. We have brought your people three gifts. We present the first and ask to ferry the eggs to the tunnels.” Abbadon looped the chain to the sled around his foreleg and waited for Seth to present the Gift. The Rider reached into his cloak and withdrew an arm severed at the forearm, the wound was bound tightly in red cord, enchanted to prevent the arm from rotting. Seth offered the severed arm to Zhurga, palm up for her to take from him. “This is the arm of a Shade. I liberated it from his wretched body and I present it to you now. A powerful symbol of victory over evil.” The story behind that arm was harrowing to say the least, and the Shade to which the arm belonged had hunted Seth for nearly 7 months before Seth managed to drive Sundavar through his heart. “It is a point of pride that Abbadon and I see the eggs to the tunnels. You wouldn’t rob a Rider of his pride would you?” Seth had great respect for Urgal custom and wounding another person’s pride was no small trespass, Seth hoped this spoil of his kill would be enough to smooth things over.