FAERON the BEAST MASTER
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Many wait for what fate has planned for them..........................................................................................While there are some who actively seek it
" By the Stone, I knew you were foolish," A short man, Dwarf, by the name of Bolad son of Thifgrim of clan Radadorn, huffed and puffed. Yes, that was how he always introduced himself. If abbreviated. The real thing was much longer. How he managed to keep all the son of sons of clan of clans in order with no trouble was a wonder in and of itself. In the first fifteen minutes of starting a conversation with the dwarf, Fearon pretty much knew his family as if it was his own. " but I did not think you were stupid!" He growled as he finally reached the outcropping of which Fearon had been waiting.
Chortling, Faeron slapped the dwarf on the back before pointing towards a west facing peak of the Fire Mountains.
" There it is." Fearon said with an even and smooth voice as he pointed up towards the western face of the mountain. Bolad followed the gesture and made quickly to a protruding rock and peered around it with great care. Faeron followed suit, however he dug through his satchel to reveal a scrying stone. Sitting down beside Bolad with his back against the rock, the elf rolled the stone between his palms.
" I am telling you Faeron, this is a bad idea. It will see you." The dwarf said, with seemingly actual concern in his voice. Whether it was for Faeron or for the fact that if the dragon finds them, he would also be in grave danger.
" It would be a shame if it doesn't." Faeron replied slowly, his gaze seemingly mesmerized by the stone.
" You want the dragon to see you?" The dwarves fuzzy brow perked.
" I hate caves, besides I have no doubt one way or another, it will try to kill me. Dragons are just not the reasonable creatures they used to be. I would rather be on open ground where Anmara and I can give it a run for its money than confined in its den," Anmara, who was with them but out of sight, was a Regathan Firecat. Just one of the many types of savage beasts that prowled Brimstone. She, however, was quite tame but he used the word tame loosely. As he had the creature since it was but a cub when he, himself, was only 25. Their relationship was rocky for about 50 some years. Eventually he learned that she could not be controlled or conquered. Only understood. She was in no way a pet and with that understanding they became a mutually beneficial partnership. They acted more like siblings though. " You can leave if you wish." He said finally before his gaze locked on the stone and his mind slipped from his physical body.
" You know I won't" Bolad grumbled even though he knew the elf could not hear it. Settling down his gaze returned to the peak, and the entrance to the dragons lair.
Being ethereal was bizarre, wonderful and rather addictive. Few humanoids possessed enough mental power to harness the ability to use a scrying stone. Mental power and magic. While Faeron had no ability to use magic actively, he could use it passively. Power given to him could be used at his disposal. An example would be Anmara's fire shield. She could be completely engulfed in flames yet never be burned. Faeron could use it for a time. As with the scrying stone. He could scry as long as he had the stone in his hand, but he had no ability, like some people, to actively meditate and move beyond their body. While he was quite useless by himself, it was this ability that possibly would make him deadly as a dragon rider. There was so much power he could tap into and it was this reason he was seeking this particular dragon. All he had met so far had been weaker than him in one way or another. Sure, alone they all had more raw power than he could ever wish to obtain but they still all died. If he was going to be a dragon rider, he wanted one that he could at least have faith in its ability.
The cave was massive. The entrance itself was at least as tall building with three levels. It showed signs of wear but the wear higher up was older than the more fresh markings below. The cave must have use to be the home of a massive dragon in the days of old. On the ground were a few scattered gems and coins and looking up the ceiling was covered in a light haze of smoke. Whoever was home, and had participated in a rather violent battle some time back, was very much awake and active. While his mind looked into the darkness his body gave a shaking inhale and exhaled as his ethereal self walked into the confined darkness he hated with passion.
Arriving deeper in the cave it was easy to navigate the labyrinth the farther he went in. As the scattered coins grew in number like a cookie trail to a gingerbread house. Only coins to a trove. A large one that had coins from times long past. To think such an ancient cave remained while being so close to the capital city. One would think this would be the first den to be eradicated. Judging on the massive bones can began to appear, he was sure someone had tried. Maybe the original owner had been killed and another dragon simply came to claim such a roomy lair for its own.
Stopping short as a wave of coins rolled down past his feet from a suddenly appearing pile, rather valley, of treasure. The dragon was not easy to miss. The red of its scales stood out like blood on the coin. Quite large but not very old bordering on becoming a full adult. Very few scales were missing that he could see and judging by how vibrant its coloring was its health was at its peak. However, something worried him. Since the battle no one had seen or heard of this dragon. It obviously was not badly wounded but he could not help but wonder what kept it grounded. To much of his annoyance, he quickly found out why.
A newborn, maybe a year old.
" It is a female, with a hatchling." Faeron said, still scrying in the den, but his body spoke, causing Bolad to start.
" What? By the beard of my ancestors!" The dwarf slapped his hands on his head in disbelief " Of all the witless, clanless, knife-ears, you are by far the - most - ugh."
Indeed this made it a much more difficult task. If he was still hunting, he would have simply killed the hatchling, throwing the mother into a blind rage and letting her get exhausted before going in for the kill. He could always find a way to take the hatchling alive and use it to blackmail her into service but she would simply kill him the first chance she got. He could also give up on this dragon, which was the most likely. A mother would never be able to give him what he needed. His body bit its lip in frustration as he seethed with a cool anger. Glaring at the hatchling he wished nothing more than for it's demise before his ethereal self returned to his body.
area: Fire Mountains band: Bolad and Anmara plan: Time to rethink my course of action
