Generations/Through the Baron

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The thought of going to the best armed location in the area weak from your dragon-sleep and hunger is not at all what you would consider a good idea. Now, approaching the baron . . . actually taking a moment to remember you fallen godhood that wasn't an hour past you recall that the region is controlled by a young baroness . . . You will miss your near omniscience. In any case, the later option seems the more logical; and more likely to succeed.

You unfurl your wings, letting your dragon instinct take the forefront of your actions as you flap your wings. Your powerful wings beat the air into a fury, creating vortices of leaves, twigs, and small bones as your massive form rises into the air. It is a short flight to the village at the base of the mountain; but the experience of flight is new and exhilarating.

You hear the screams of the townspeople as your swoop low, surveying the area for a perch. The warning bell starts to toll, and you instantly hate the accursed thing. Decided, you come in for a landing; dropping heavily onto the bell tower. The eaves below you crack and give way, freeing the bell to clamor its way to the ground. Arrows bounce from your scales as you settle onto your perch.

"ENOUGH!" you bellow furiously, the heat in your chest rising, and smoke issuing from your maw. "Bring forth the Baroness Vita Kaster that we may parlay!"

"It speaks!" screams one of the town guard.

"If you would rather that I burn this village to the ground, then tarry longer," you say; then spout fire into the air to accentuate your point. The villagers and guards scatter to the four winds, but you are pleased to see that at least some of them go into the baroness's keep. You settle in and bide your time.

It seems odd, but you are having difficulty gauging the passage of time. Dragons seem to have an unique perception of time. It almost seems like the entourage of the baroness emerges immediately, but the sun sits much lower on the horizon than when you first alighted on the tower. How very strange.

You crane your neck so that you can face them as they approach. The baroness walks confidently between her guards and councilors, in the front of the lot of them. She seems rather brave for a mortal. Many nobles that you've know would have put a shield of retainers and guards between themselves and a dragon . . . but not this baroness. She stops some five yards from the foot of the tower, and looks up.

"What is it you wish dragon," she yells.

"There is no need to shout," you reply. "I can hear you perfectly well in a normal speaking voice." You think of what you knew of the baroness from your last hours as a fallen god. She was married to the baron of this land of Farmount at a very young age . . . thirteen you believe. When he died some five years hence, she became baroness at the age of seventeen. At twenty-two she still has the beauty of youth, and her confident noble bearing only enhances that beauty. Her ebony locks frame her milky skin, as the piercing emeralds of her eyes stare directly into yours with no fear in them. She is . . . impressive.

"My apologies then," she says, "what is it you seek from my court?"

"I would like to take council with your queen, that we may come to an understanding. I find dealing with would-be heroes seeking to make a name for themselves annoying in the extreme. I can barely get five years sleep before another one arrives seeking their own death. I have stolen your livestock, and destroyed your structures; but I have only rarely killed your people. I feel that we can come to a mutually beneficial accord if I am simply allowed to forge an alliance with your kingdom. What say you? Will you carry my message to your queen?"

"That is . . . unexpected," she says. "I have always been told that dragons are monsters to be feared and killed; but here you are speaking clearly and reasonably. I will send your message, dragon."

"I am Rsskaskekaltkylzh Vrrkrzhkchultekk, not dragon. It means The Ember that Cools in the Shallow Water the closest easy translation is Cinder. You may call me such."

"Very well, Lord Cinder," she replies. "Is there anything else you require?"

"I have just risen from my dragon-sleep, and a hunger sits in my belly as nothing a mortal could ever comprehend. Bring me cattle before the hunger forces me to do something we will both regret."

"As you wish, Lord Cinder," she says, then gives the order.

Cattle are brought to you, and you sear and eat them one at a time until you have had your fill. You restrain yourself from overindulging to keep yourself light should the need to fight arise.

You have some time to pass for the message to arrive at the castle, the queen to craft a reply, and the messenger return. The question is, how do you spend that time?


How do you pass the time?


Chosen - Generation: One
Time Passed: 0y 0m 0d
Abilities Equipment Mate(s) Children
Name Cinder Divine Spark, Armored Skin, Claws, Dragon Gold, Dragon Sleep, Enhanced Hearing, Enhanced Sight, Enhanced Smell, Flame Breath, Horns, Immune to Flame, Infrasonic Hearing, Infravision, Sharp Teeth, Ultrasonic Hearing, Weaponized Tail, Winged Flight Nothing None None
Age 506y 7m 12d
Gender Male
Race Heraldic Dragon
Social Class Monster
Attributes
Body Extreme (10)
Mind Superior (9)
Spirit Superior (9)