(Prologue or Preface: idea to kind of set the scene for adventure or perhaps a reason for the adventures beginning. Possibly a bit of backstory for one or both of the characters)
The last battle had raged on for the last week, with victory slipping from one side to the other but never truly decided. And now it was just him. The last of his forces, his friends and allies, his family in arms. And even he would not last much longer. His side burned as he pressed hard on it to slow the bleeding, warm blood soaking his shirt and pooling on the ground beside him. The cut was shallow, but it had cut across his abdomen, slicing through muscle and blood vessels. He should have dodged it. He could have. He tried to rise and failed, slumping back against the cold bricks. His armor was scattered out on the field somewhere, pieces pulled off to help him move or see or fight as the sun rose and set. There was no strength in his arms, maybe even less strength than in his legs. His sword was too heavy, his grip weak, and though he tried to raise it as the sound of steps approached, it slipped from his fingers. A shadow crossed his legs, and he closed his eyes, expecting the final blow to land. “Why?” He looked up, gaze a little hazy from blood loss. The anger in the clenched fist, splattered with blood and ash, his opponent demanded again “Why have you done this?” one hand clenched a sword stained with his blood. One must die as a villain for the other to live as a hero. He laughed a little at both the question and his own thought, fleeting though it was, his lungs felt thick and tight as blood filled them “Blood is even less flattering on you than on me.” He choked out, his breathing ragged, as his opponent crashed to their knees, the armored kneepads cracking the already worn stones with the weight. The sword that he thought would end him was driven deep into the stones, seeming to be all that held up the weary knight “You didn’t have to do this…” the words were filled with pain, heavy with sorrow and perhaps regret. Arms slipped off the hilt, coming to hide the anguished features and fingers dug into hair. He sighed, not knowing what to say to forestall this inevitable wave of grief. The words that he wanted to say, the words they wanted to hear. A surge of pain and he hacked, coughing as blood flooded his mouth, his body contorting. He felt arms around him and gazed up through a haze “Please, you can’t die like this!” the words were a small comfort. He was going to die like this. In a pool of his own blood and filth, with more dead around him and the sound of steel on stone approaching. And why? Why? He raised a hand, using what little strength he had left, to grasp a lock of hair between blood covered fingers “Wh-why, because all knights need a v-villain.” His hand fell as a scream rung the air and the last thing his eyes saw were tears and the bright streaks of light from the sun rising over the ruins.
Basic world premise is high fantasy with elements of steampunk. Lots of green and forested areas, with kingdoms in various states of creating and ruination. Magickind are what might be expected but anything really goes.
It was never the same after the dragons and the magickind returned. Kingdoms thought they had to be fought. Damsels thought they had to be feared. And knights thought they had to die to defeat them. No one anticipated that they might just live alongside them. That battle and bloodshed was not the inevitable.
『 ♔ 』 "Prologue/Preface to Compliment the Amazing Universe Laid Out"
No matter which side would win, history was never going to reflect the truth. Each was another's villain, the noble deeds were acts of horror and acts of horror were noble deeds. No peasant of either land were innocent of their leader's choices and the bodies falling to their armies' might. Especially so for the stable hands tasked with caring for the mighty dragons that were saddled and turned towards those battles. Fewer and fewer returned each time, until finally the war spilled over the many walls and further out into the wilds; dragons being hunted before they ever could be haltered and tamed by the idea of an enemy, and the stable hands that had spent most, if not all, of their life alongside these unique, powerful creatures, were hunted with equal fervour. With each of their deaths so too died the knowledge of the dragon's care, of their history as a species, their medical requirements and dietary needs. What few dragons remained quickly died with no trained hands to care for them as they needed.
What few with the knowledge that remained were closely guarded, even against their will, forced into secrecy even as the dragon's numbers started to flourish, seen as a potential weakness to be turned against the people they should be serving. The dragon's number's may be increasing, but the number of individuals whom hold the knowledge to tame, to raise, mend and communicate with the greatest of steeds, are kept the same. Any found outside of this number are moved elsewhere, for "their own protection," or sentenced with treason. One such woman was sentenced on the spot, a sword thrust through her lung so she couldn't even scream, but she was grateful for it, knowing at least she would not risk waking her babe, keeping him, and her book of all her knowledge, safe from the armoured hands hauling her away.
When the kindly neighbours come to see the sight of her death - whatever is left after the soldiers burn the house to the ground - she could only pray they check for the basement like she has asked if something was to happen to her, and not turn her child in to the soldiers.
Hope this compliments with your world and that I haven't misinterpreted anything T^T
Posted: Wed May 25, 2022 3:04 pm
Continuing from the addition above... Years had passed since the dragon purge and their numbers were greater than they had ever been. Wild and beyond taming, now that the dragon shepherds were but memories, they roamed the lands freely. They would harass towns occasionally but for the most, they preferred their open lands and sheer cliffs away from humanity and magickind alike. An uneasy balance had grown over time. Wars and battles still raged between kingdoms and the wild magickind but peace existed in the smaller villages and the remote towns that existed alongside these places. Still, many villages and towns feared the coming of soldiers who took their children for their battles and sent back wooden caskets. Dragons fled when the armies marched and villages and towns kept watch on the skies to know when to abandon their homes. Villagers would flee with their families into the lands of magickind and find safety among them, blending the line between their kind. These half-born were often cherished by their families and communities but suffered from magic sickness, a sensitivity to the very blood they shared. This forced them from their homes, sending them to travel into the world their parents had fled.
Present
The watchtower for Isleven village was made of ironwood, a type of tree that the magickind village in the next valley grew and supplied the village with, in exchange for food goods and cotton. It stood high enough from the ground to keep watch for both villages, giant timbers crisscrossing each other with a ladder running up the center to a shelter. It was open on all sides and manned by four villagers to watch all directions. In the distance, a dragon’s call echoed in the valley over and was answered by others, a cacophony of nearly musical sounds “They always sound sad.” The youngest watcher, a farmer’s daughter with blazing red hair, leaned on one of the rails to watch the sky. She was watching the south, her eldest brother, four years older, was watching the east while the older watchers were a couple who had been dragon watching since the village had been founded. They held hands as they watched the west and the north“They don’t always sound sad. They just don’t like the changing weather,” said the old woman. It was the beginning of the rain season when the whole land was covered in clouds for days and rain fell like stones. The elder brother sat up straighter “Dragon.” He said calmly, his voice cracking, barely out of his teens and they all turned to look. It was in the distance, but it was flying towards the village “One or two is all right. Might just be” a second dragon “looking for” a third “food…” the older man’s voice trailed off as dragons continued to rise from the east, filling the sky “Myse,” her brother turned to her, his face tight “Go find Tsena and set off the bells.” Myse nodded and scrambled down the stairs, taking off like a rabbit when she hit the ground. In the sky, the dragons started to cry as they flew, running from something that was heading towards the village.
The leather of Cyphren's armor was still far too new - barely stretched, it was like the steel of his chest plate that it was meant to protect him from. It dug uncomfortably fierce into his joints, leaving him with a searing scowl on his face as he stood beside the horse and cart he was charged with 'guarding.' Not much work at all when most villagers kept a wide berth knowing that Cyphren was magickind, due to the colours of his tabard and the emblem on his plate. Cyphren, the youngest, and freshly appointed, was left alone with the cart while his fellow soldiers decided they all needed to enter the tavern to arrange food and sleeping arrangements. The village was a quiet one, with a history of cooperating with magickind, but all Cyphren could think of was getting out of his gear to attack the leather with every trick he knew to and get it to fit right after so many days and nights on the road already. The cart was empty bar basic goods to get the soldiers to their destination so it wasn't until the first bell rang - hollow yet resonating - that Cyphren's mind actually started taking in his surroundings.
He blinked, at first, not recognising the sound's meaning. On the second ring, he turned his head towards where the bell had sounded, hand clasping around the hilt of his sword as the crowd - silenced by the first bell - broke out into organised chaos. Parents scooped up children, traders grabbed their coins but not their goods, doors flew open either for people to run in or out. But above it all Cyphren could hear the word repeated - 'Dragon.'
Apologies for short post - was D&D night and I'm mentally drained but I waaaant this to keep going~!!
Posted: Thu May 26, 2022 8:43 am
Myse entered the village at a sprint, having set the bells ringing as she passed them, and now headed for the tavern. All around her, the village was preparing. She watched shopkeepers pull lost looking patrons into their homes, hearing the barely muttered calming voices as she raced by. Her mother, seeing her red hair, waved her on even as she herded Myse’s younger siblings into their home. The butcher was probably the only one who was taking his goods inside and a dozen other villagers helped him. No one wanted a fleeing dragon to come and stop for a snack. She passed more people as she rounded the corner and spotted the tavern. She barely spared the horse and cart a glance, even less of one for the man guarding it, and burst through the doors. Inside, villagers bustled and moved around a group of bewildered looking guards. One of the elders was gently patting what looked like the leader of the groups hand, her low tone explaining that they would need to stay inside until the dragons passed. Myse glanced left and right, jumping on her toes to try and see over the heads. Tsena was the tavern owner, Tsena Thatcher, and she was in the thick of it. Straw blonde hair tied up in a loose and falling out bun, her skin was tan and dusted with dark freckles and sharp brown eyes set over a pert nose. Myse squirmed her way through the crowd as chairs were stacked on top of tables and tables shoved out of the way. The guards would have to wait, as a trap door that led to a storage basement was opened “Tsena!” hearing her name, she turned, holding up a single finger to an irritable patron, as Myse grabbed her skirt “Where’s Elym?” Myse shook her head, unable to answer the question “Okay. Help me get everyone into the basement for now.” Nodding, Myse immediately started grabbing guards by the hand and guiding them gently down to the basement along with the other patrons in the bar. Tsena glanced at the tavern door, a fear settling in her stomach. Where was her son?!
Outside, a rider on a large gray and brown brindle horse galloped through the nearly emptied streets. Short, cornflower gold hair, a darker complexion, robin’s egg blue eyes, Elym didn’t look much like his mother. His stallion, Fainne, snorted in irritation as they rounded the opposite corner from where Myse had passed and nearly went nose to nose with the cart horse. Ely pulled up sharply to keep Fainne from nipping at the other horse. He wore loose pants tucked into knee high boots and steel knee pads, and a soft blue lace up neck shirt with mid-length sleeves “Wh-?” he blinked in surprise at the guard standing by the cart, caught by surprise “You should get inside. Dragons don’t land here but it’s better to be safe.” He said finally, jumping off Fainne and gripping the reigns tightly. He was a few inches shorter than the guard but had the build of a farmer, with broad shoulders and strong limbs, his hair just brushing the collar of his shirt “I can take your horse to the underbarn.” Similar to a basement, it was a semi-underground stable for horses when dragons were about. He held out a well calloused hand for the reigns, glancing to the sky as the first shadow of a dragon began to cloud the sky “Don’t worry, I stay with the horses when dragons are about. It will be safe.” His voice was earnest but tight, eyes once more turning to the sky.
It took several seconds before Cyphren was eventually able to comprehend the rushed, clashing, voices that were washing over the village in clashing waves - the tolling bells were alarms and the people were going to ground. Underground, rather... With gritted teeth, Cyphren pushed against the stiff leather of his armour and pulled himself up onto the back of the cart, the wood sturdy and solid beneath his boots but his armour creaking at the uncommon movements.
Looking up and into the sky, dark brown eyes tried to scan what little could be seen of the obscured horizon but that notion was quickly discarded, low as he was positioned and cluttered was his line of sight with the village's many rooftops. Instead, he stiffly knelt down at the front of the cart, retrieving his leather satchel from amongst the rest of the soldiers' mixed belongings. Its contents were tightly secured within by ties as Cyphren swung the bag's strap up and over his head and one shoulder with jerky movements before stepping down and off the cart once again, hearing the soldiers call for him from within the tavern roughly the same time as someone nearly rode their steed into the black cart horse, causing both animals to bare their teeth in threat to the other.
"Ease, Midnight." Cyphren speaks calmly but the scowl on his face would imply otherwise. Listening to the new arrival speak, the Magickind soldier walked around the cart to lay a hand on the side of the cart horse's neck. The horse didn't require reassurance - standing resolute despite all the commotion and running people. But he gave it a pat before he began to untie it from the cart. "How often do dragons pass by here?" He asks, not at all indicating he had any intention of handing over the horse's reigns.
Posted: Fri May 27, 2022 8:47 am
Ely’s lips tightened at the scowl, his face hardening further at the response, or lack of, from the guard. Turning away, he started to lead Fainne and the pair of outsiders towards the rear of the tavern “Often enough that we know better than to lollygag outside.” His response was curt, and he tried to quell the emotions rising. They weren’t his own, which further irritated him. His mother was a human but also an empath, capable of feeling and manipulating emotions. The same trait had passed to Ely but with a slightly different effect. While Tsena only felt and could control emotions, Ely was prone to being overwhelmed by other’s feelings and emotions. As they rounded the corner, the barn came into view, busy as stablehands moved horses from the upper stalls to the underbarn stalls that were built into a natural cavern. The cavern entrance was a bit of a walk from the barn, a large gate of metal and wood open to allow entry “And they aren’t passing by.” Ely finally added, as the sky became dark with dragons “That’s an entire thunder,” he said, using the term for a large group of dragons moving as one, “Which means they’ve been unsettled from their resting grounds in the valley over.” Fainne stamped a hoof impatiently, wanting to get away from the shadows above them, and Ely put a hand on the stallion’s shoulder “It’s all right, Fainne.” A breeze had started to move through the village as the dragons flew by overhead, stirring dust and causing a soft hum from the passage of air to sing through Isleven’s abandoned streets. Ahead of them, the stablehands were leaving, having secured their charges, nodding to Ely as they hurried to the tavern. Ely paused at the entrance, looking at the guard critically “Your horse will have to share with Fainne. We only have one stall big enough down here for horses of this height.” Fainne and Midnight stood of nearly equal height, which meant that the deepest cavern would have to be where they stayed. The other horses in the village were on the shorter side but these two were clearly meant for something more than just pulling carts or carrying people.
Inside, Tsena was making final passes to ensure everyone was secure in the basement while Myse waited at the top of the ladder. The last of the stablehands ducked into the bar and she motioned for them to go on down. The basement was wide and spacious, making use of a natural cave system that ran under the entire village. They had often used it when fleeing invading armies but now it merely served as a storage and safe space for when dragons were about. Tsena had seen Ely engaging with the lone guard outside and, satisfied that she knew where he was, she joined Myse and secured the basement door. As she moved through the group, her skirt and overdress, tied up the front with a dark ribbon, seemed to give off a smell of lilacs and lavender and calm those she passed. In truth, she was using her empathic ability to send calm through the group, soothing irritation and fear as she walked “Tsena, why are the dragons flying?” a small child called out, his voice trembling. She went to sit beside him, gently lifting him into her lap and calming his nerves as she did “Perhaps they are migrating.” She said softly but her voice carried in the basement and most of the villagers fell quiet to listen “Dragons are like any beast. They move from place to place, seeking resources and safety, family, and familiarity.” She continued, tapping the child’s nose playfully and earning a smile “They may have been unsettled by something, but they won’t land here. They know better.” The thinly veiled comment that perhaps it wasn’t a natural occurrence, that the dragons had been roused, was not lost on the older members of the village. They all remembered when the wars were the only thing that could rouse the dragon thunder.
Cyphren's attention quickly returned to the skyline when the villager with hair the colour of cornfields responded to his question with no helpful information. With both hands, Cyphren removed his helmet. The well-polished metal of his gauntlets, helmet, and breastplate clinging together gently as the soldier carefully handled his brand-new gear, even while his his head was turned up and away to the sky. His short, black hair was cut so close that the wind barely moved it. He wanted to see the dragon fly overhead, but hearing it was a whole thunder, his want to admire was suddenly dunked in ice-cold water.
"A thunder?" Cyphren followed the villager, one hand holding the black steed's reign and the other arm keeping his helmet tucked against his side. It wasn't a question for the young man guiding him, but his attention was caught all the same that he missed the first shadow until it had passed by. Stopping in his tracks, Cyphren turned and stared up into the sky once more, his awe and child-like wonder smoothing his face out from its irritated wrinkles before it was quickly dampened by anger and fear as the shadows continued passing. "You see dragons be unsettled in such numbers frequently?" He asked, the scowl back in full force, but the worry strong in his heart. Black hair, dark eyes, skin barely touched by the sun, and dressed in polished steel, he emanated stern justice from within and out.
The dragons continued flying overheard - their shadows darkening the path travelled and the beating of their wings combined sending a breeze to kick up dust motes throughout, and Cyphren stood fearless below them all, his eyes staring accusingly at Elym. Besides Cyphren the horse he'd named Midnight stamped his foot once but barely reacted, standing strong and firm, though it whipped its tail to the side occasionally in distaste of its situation.
astrasinthewild
Posted: Fri May 27, 2022 8:03 pm
Raising an eyebrow at the shine and polish of the gear, Elym tried to tone down the irritation he was feeling, knowing full well that it was not his own. Honestly. This is why he stayed out of Isleven most of the year. Too many people and emotions to get trapped in. Sensing the man was going to be difficult, Ely turned to face him, still holding Fainne’s reigns. He sized him up, not bothering to hide it, seeing the dark hair and eyes, the pale skin. New armor only made him look He looks like a star in a black sky. he thought, feeling the man’s suspicion as it radiated in waves off his body. Above them, dragons flew by in lesser numbers but still enough to send dark shadows across the ground and gusts of wind through the village “Isleven is a village between valleys and forests. As such, we have many thunders in the area who use it for rest, foraging, even mating.” He said, his tone neutral as he pushed back on the emotions. It would do neither of them any good if he allowed the guard’s emotions to supersede his own “It’s not unusual to have a thunder break off into different groups. So, we see many dragons above our homes.” He ran a hand over Fainne’s nose, letting the stallion huff into his palm as he spoke “They’re not dangerous. They’re just animals, like any other,” he sighed, his expression tired “If you don’t want the shelter for your stallion, I’m not going to drag you both to the underbarn. If you do or don’t come in, just make sure to close the gate.” He said finally, turning on a heel to lead Fainne through the gates, leaving them open if Cyphren made a decision to join him. There was something unsaid behind his words. Dragons were not dangerous…when compared to humans and their wars.
Ely let Fainne off the lead once they were in the underbarn, knowing the stallion would find his way to the stall. It was his favorite, after all. Instead, Ely went to each stall, murmuring and soothing the horses as he did. Each time, he paused to run a hand along their neck and bend his head to their forehead. He fed them small bits of apple and sugar cane from his pockets, giving mares kisses and stallions pats. Ely moved deeper into the cavern as he walked, knowing he would eventually end up at the back stall where Fainne would be waiting. But for now, he wanted to ensure the horses were calm and that they didn’t harm themselves.
"I called for Cyphren and the boy still hasn't come in, Loren." The soldiers in the tavern had relented to the bunker when the bells had started tolling outside - only one of them pausing to call out for the youngest of them they had left outside. The three of them stood together, apart from the rest of the villagers, but accepting their situation with calmness. Even Loren - the most distrustful of strangers in their lot - was standing somewhat at ease, though her amber eyes kept darting to the exit, the edges of the darkness where light wasn't reaching. It was Gard, their archer, that spoke first.
"I overheard them talking of taking the horses underground as well - Cyphren wouldn't let that animal be at risk of harm." Loren responded, but she did not sound completely convinced. Still, she knew better than to start angering villagers that had taken her and the others into such confined quarters. Not until she had proof and reason drawn her sword and shield.
Cyphren, still on the surface, with the sun touching his face, was listening, watching the young man he had accompanied with silent judgement until whatever he was looking for seemed to be satisfied and the guard turned away once again. Tilting his head back, Cyphren continued to stare up and watch the dragons as they flew by, undisturbed - enraptured almost - but his face was still twisted with concern. Anyone able to see his face would assume he was speaking to himself, or giving small prayers, as his lips were barely moving, dark brown eyes tracking over each dragon as it flew by, examining its movements. He did not move to enter the underground, nor even to close the gate. "They're not hunting." He said to Midnight as the last of the dragons were flying by. "Like the villager said." The soldier rubbed the front of the black stallions chest, eliciting happy flicks of the horse's ears that such a hard to reach spot was being roughed up by the unrelenting edges of Cyphren's armoured hand. The dragons were beautiful when they flew - and Cyphren had not had the opportunity to see so many at once, especially with not such a clear view from below. If only they were not upset.
astrasinthewild
Posted: Fri May 27, 2022 8:59 pm
Tsena was rocking the child from earlier to sleep now as the villagers milled about, obviously used to having to go underground. She stood carefully, moving with expertise to deposit the boy onto her hip, and walked over to the guards. Her hair braid was over one shoulder and the child was gently holding it as he slept, undisturbed as she came to stand a little away from the guards “Elym, my son, will watch out for your other member.” She said, her voice matter of fact and firm, not bothering to hide that she had been listening. Myse peeked around her skirts, adding her own comment “The dragons ain’t interested in us.” “Are not.” Tsena corrected sternly, using her free hand to brush back a lock of golden hair going white. Myse flushed at the ear tips but corrected herself “The dragons are not interested in us. They’re just flocking cause they was spooked.” “Because they were spooked.” Corrected again and Myse darted away, going to sit with her siblings rather than continue to be schooled in grammar “The child is correct, though. This is,” she motioned with her chin to the underground “ merely a precaution. Once the horn sounds, we can go back up.” Tsena eyed the nervous one, the woman, and turned away. As she walked, the scent of lilac and lavender lingered with a hint of honey, perhaps.
“It’s not “villager”, its Elym.” Ely’s voice was touchy as he stood at the gate. He’d settled Fainne at the back and, finding his conscience unable to actually rest, had come back to the gate. He gripped it with one hand, watching the guard’s face while his other hand was loose at his side. He felt the man was calmed by the dragons, a rare occurrence for outsiders, and his gaze was curious. The winds in the village were starting to fade as the last dragon passed by, an old white and silver with a wingspan that might have eclipsed the whole tavern. Lifting his free hand to shield his eyes, he looked up to watch it pass “That’s old Allony,” he said after a moment “She’s been the matriarch of the current thunder nearest us for the last hundred years.” The elders of the village had named her, back when she had first arrived and taken over the thunder. A gentle giant. Ely’s gaze came down again on to the guard, his hair tousled and windswept “Once the horn sounds, you can return to your cart.”
Loren, Gard, and the third member of their group regarded the woman whom had approached them with vastly different expressions. Loren's eyes, after taking in the woman, quickly darted around to take in how the other villagers were responding to Tsena's approach of the soldiers. Gard was simply watching the woman with open curiosity - until she started correcting the smaller gal's grammar, at which he cast glances to third member of their group - Talon. Talon was the tallest of them all, and the broadest, too. He had an almost bland expression on his rough face, though he was taking in the situation they had all found themselves in with some interest. When Tsena began speaking with a firm tone to Myse, that expression took on a hint of embarrassment. Loren's nose flared at Tsena's departure none of them spoke again - not with words. Cyphren was still too green to really comprehend most of their unspoken glances, but it was obvious the trio were waiting for more than just the sound of a horn.
Cyphren didn't bother turning to acknowledge the first name given to him, but he did visibly react when Elym began to speak of elder dragon, the soldier's lips moving to silently speak the name it had been given - 'Allony.' Seeing the older dragon taking up the rear of the thunder, Cyphren watched for a few silent moments before once again trying to interrogate the villager speaking to him. "What lives out here that could spook an entire thunder?"
astrasinthewild
Posted: Fri May 27, 2022 9:43 pm
Tsena placed the boy back in his mother’s arms, shaking her head to brush off the thanks that were offered. She knew how frightening a thunder could be to young children. Her arms went to wrap around herself, looking up at the trap door to the basement, thinking of Elym. Worry creased the corners of her eyes, wanting to wrap her arms around her son Let him be safe. she brought her hand up to rub her face, walking to sit near the stairs. Despite the calm she gave to those around her, her concern for her son was obvious. Myse watched her go sit, the girl’s face easier to read, also concerned and a little frightened.
Ely rolled his eyes at the guard’s behavior, not impressed, but watching his lips as he mouthed Allony’s name. It felt a little profane to Ely, to see Allony’s name spoken by a stranger but knowing an animal was more than just a beast meant people would respect them more. Treat them kindly. He arched an eyebrow as the guard turned to him, feeling a surge of irritation that was actually his own. He frowned, crossing his arms “What makes you so sure they’re spooked?” he said, raising one hand as his frown turned into a scowl “Dragons migrate, they move from place to place, following food and to raise their young. They’re here one day and gone the next, vanishing for months and returning as quickly as they departed.” what did this, this outsider, this stranger, know of dragons? Of the Isleven dragon thunders? Like many who lived near dragons, Isleven was protective of their dragons. Elym a little more so than most “You want to know what spooks a thunder?” his voice was slightly aggressive now, anger turning his dark skin darker in the cheeks “Armies. Battles. Human violence. We don’t hide from dragons. We hide from what fleeing dragons might mean.” the words were almost spat out and his anger was wafting off him. Imperceptible to humans and magickind, it effected the animals around him. Horses neighed in their stalls behind the gates and stamped their feets, rodents rushed out of the stall to chitter angrily as they fled, birds that had taken roost on the roofs and stable called out against the sky in agitation. In the distance, a low horn sounded, signaling the all clear “You can go away now.” Ely’s words were terse and angry, turning his back on the guard to walk into the understable, leaving the guard to return to his cart.
"They'd been unsettled from their nesting grounds in the next valley over." Cyphren spoke, his words pitched a little lower than he had spoken previously. "Those were your words. Perhaps I had misunderstood you then - I was unaware that 'unsettled' was synonymous with basic migration behaviours." The soldier had turned away from the other man once again, not even bothering to finish his sentence before he was facing another direction - the way from which the dragons had came. The sudden call of angry rodents fleeing out of the underbarn caught Cyphren's attention, and it brought his attention to Midnight's sudden flare of a temper; head whipping back and tail lashing while he stamped his hooves. "Midnight?" He queried, the unnusual behaviour throwing Cyphren off-guard, so much so that the villager was of no interest to him, even after the verbal jabs, though those words held no personal hold on him either.
The sound of the horn was heard throughout the village and people began appearing from their hiding spaces. The armoured soldiers in the tavern's bunker did not rush to leave, waiting and watching until they were signalled to leave. Out in the fresh air, they found the cart untouched, but the horse - and Cyphren - missing. Loren looked to Gard, but the archer was already looking at the ground, following horse tracks around to the back of the tavern, spotting Cyphren almost instantly as they rounded the corner, standing like a beacon in his polished armour.
"'Phren!" Gard called and jogged over, Loren and Talon following behind at a calmer pace. All four together showed that it was Loren and Cyphren whom took the time to polish their armour to a shine. Gard was dull, seemingly deliberately so with his lighter plate. Loren reached out to clap a hand on Cyphren's shoulder, bringing him close for the pair to talk quietly, the older woman obviously checking to ensure he was unharmed. Cyphren had nodded to the arrival of his fellow soldiers, bowing his head in greeting to Loren and easily assuring her he was unharmed.
"It was over as quickly as it began." Cyphren spoke. "But I get the impression the villagers don't view this particular occurrence as normal." He adds and Loren, feeling more like herself since leaving the caverns below, finds the calmness she felt vanish completely. Gard and Talon also seem to shift, eyes glancing to each other.
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