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Character: Raemos
Stage: Apprentice (Level has yet to be properly calculated because he has another hunt going, AKA, Re always seems to run into dragons, poor baby)
Luck: 2, total = 33
Dragon: 4 Peisio

Raemos was happy now that his parents were staying on in Tukyere for a little bit longer. He rarely got to see the coastline, and was finding it a remarkable place. He liked to walk along it in the early hours of the morning, just before the sun rose, and enjoy the quiet lapping of the waves and the slow lightening of the sky as the sun graced it. He had heard it was colorful and wished he could see it. He was sure that, as beautiful as it was to his pulse vision, it would be even more lovely if he could only see it as his parents and Vona did. He walked alone- hs parents still tired from their voyage. He wasn't worried about that- he'd return before they woke up. They deserved a rest- they worked hard. He did too, but he was fine, himself.
He took a deep breath of the humid, salty air, spotting a flying shape against the lightening sky. He looked up at it, wondering what it was. A bird? The sky was still too dim as yet for him to get good contrast on the flying shape, but his gaze was soon distracted by a strange movement in the water just behind them. It was a sinuous motion, so similar to the waves- at first he dismissed it as a trick of his nonexistant eyes. But then he saw, glittering in the early rays of the sun as it broke through the surface of the water, a scaled haunch. Was it a fish? He walked faster, approaching closer. No. It was a dragon- he could tell from the fierce profile and gleaming eyes. He was wary now- the flying shape and its pursuer close enough for him to be worried about the threat they might pose. It was then that he realized, in the sharpening light, that it was not a bird but a drakein! He thought about calling out, but hesitated. Drakein were wild, intelligent animals. Perhaps it would be best to not get this one's attention?

(346/1200)

Well, it appeared to have noticed him anyway. He watched as it glided towards him to land in the sand nearby. He was wary, but not too threatened by the Drakein- the ones he'd met weren't overly vicious and had been willing to socialize.
What worried him were the dark shapes that slipped through the water behind it. They disappeared at the beginning of the beach, but Raemos was not buying it. His father had told him too many stories of being snuck up on by dragons and ambushed.
First though, he felt he should put the drakein at ease. "Good evening!" he greeted, his tone friendly. Animals of all sorts, he knew, reacted well to a friendly tone. "I apologize for my lack of food." he added, glancing out to see. It was a reasonable apology, considering his acquaintance with Jijiko.
The waves rolled in with their usual rumble, but the wash went far... Farther than it ought to thought Raemos, staring at the waves as best he could.
There. Following the wash of another wave. A gleaming, malevolent eye.
"But, ah..." he lowered his voice. What had father said about ambushes? It was best that, if you noticed them, to not let them know. Then the advantage of surprise was on you. His father knew so much about military strategy. And of course the fighting part. Raemos wanted to do him proud. He wasn't entirely sure how his father felt about him, but he intended to work hard to ensure that his battle skills, both mental and physical, at least, were something to be proud of. "I believe you are pursued." he whispered, watching the occasional gleam of eyes in the encroaching surf, "And I think they are dragons." He drew his crappy sword slowly and quietly.

(646/1200)

The dragons were definitely surprised. Without the advantage of surprise, they went for a more home-field advantage. The drakein was their main target, and two of them summoned a waterspout up into the sky as one of them rode up it before meeting her in the air.

They had all but ignored the small two legger on the beach. That was, perhaps, a mistake.

Raemo's mind, at the first rush of adrenaline, turned to his tome. It would be good to use it early on he thought to himself, remembering how it had effected the incredibly powerful dragons he had met a while ago, I dont want to fight long... more like he wasn't sure how long he could last in a major fight, and he didn't want to find out on the other side of a dragons claws.

"Lafahz Gaolem!" he intoned, holding the tome. He wasn't sure if he needed the tome to summon the magic from it, or just the trigger word, but the heavy book gave him a sort of comforting firmness, its weight and solidity lending an official feel to his spell. Otherwise, he wouldn't have dared even a drop of magic, not that he knew much.

It was nothing like the first time. He knew it worked- it had worked before and had worked again. He knew what he was doing now. He'd studied this tome as best as he could, and he was pretty sure about it.

The mist was freed, and coiled like a living thing around the peisio dragons at the base of the waterspout. They fought against it's constrictions, but it was gas, shifting and clinging. Even submerging themselves in the water did not do as well as they had hoped. Though some of the gas bubbled away, the miasma, magical as it was, still hung heavy on their limbs. Their concentration faltered, as did the waterspout, leaving their comrade in the air without magical support.

Raemos closed his tome with an admittedly over-dramatic whumph, feeling somewhat proud of himself. He was sure it would all go wrong somehow, and that it would be his fault, but at least he had done something right. He reclaimed his sword - which had been stuck into the sand to make room for the tome - and ran for one of the uncomfortable dragons, his sword stance a pale imitation of one that his father had tried to teach him...

(1053/1200)

Suddenly, the water steamed in front of him and he held back, surprised at the heat and awed by the crackling display of light. That was powerful magic, even someone as inexperienced in magic as he was could see that.

"Beautiful!" he called out, laughing, delighted in the way the orb rippled and arced, and how the water caught the light and made it all dance so gloriously and fiercely.

One of the dragons sought shelter on the shore, crawling out as it's body blistered and puckered with the burns. He leapt forward, slashing it. It was not the best slash, but it was weak and, warm as it was, its blood flowed freely from the wound. It collapsed and was soon nothing but a glittering pair of soul orbs among the boiling surf. Raemos retreated as the steaming water lapped at his feet. He watched, sword ready, as the other dragon in the water surfaced, screaming, and then, struggling, fell beneath the water, boiled. He looked up to the one still in the sky, wary. He could do very little on the ground to help, but he could at least warn her... or... cast that spell again. He retrieved the tome (and the orbs fro his kill, since he couldn't get the ones in the water) and kept his gaze on the big smooth shape above.

(1280/1200)

Well, the drakein took care of the one in the sky, and Rae thought that the encounter was over. Then, he saw the writhing shape approach from the water.

No. it wasn't over. There was one more left. He leveled his sword. The dragon roared and charged, hoping to bluff its way away from the boiling water and maneuver to cooler water where it could heal itself.

The Raemos of a year ago would have flinched, but Raemos's sword training had set in and he just zoned out into the pattern he had been taught. In the pattern, there was no fear, only thought and movement.

He slashed at the dragon methodically, maybe too slowly, and again as the dragon dodged. The dragon realized its bluff hadn't worked. It was in between a sharp object and a hot HOT place, and it made its choice. It snapped at Raemos, trying to destroy the obstacle between it and the continuation of the fight.

Raemos, almost automatically, parried, the shock of the blow shaking him out of his pattern. His arm hurt from the force of the dragon's bite on his sword, and he gasped in pain. The fear he had held at bay rushed back to him as he stared into its snapping jaws and fierce, desperate eyes.

Then, equally desperate, he slashed once more. His strike was lucky, and the dragon screamed once, reared, and then fell, dissolving away. He took deep breaths to calm himself, looking up at the circling drakein. Was it just him, or was it moving oddly? Was it tired?

(1544/1200)