Custom Search

Continued Percy from yesterday

The landscape rushed up to meet them and soon Percy was skimming the surface of the lake, the tips of his talons dragging across the water and leaving a trail of ripples in their wake. James could see the mouth of the cave ahead of them, looming closer as Percy sped towards it.

“I have to close my wings,” Percy turned his head and called back to James. “Don’t panic.”

“Don’t panic?” James’s eyes widened and he tightened his grip on the reigns. “Don’t panic?! Percival, what are you going to do?”

But the dragon ignored his pleas, turning to focus again on the cave mouth. He beat his wings hard, gaining speed as the cave mouth approached. Just as the gaping hole was threatening to swallow them up, Percy snapped his wings to his sides and they shot like a bullet into the darkness.

James screwed his eyes tight shut and hoped, prayed, that Percy had been right about the cave opening up inside. For what seemed like forever they were propelled through the narrow cave at break-neck speed, James bent as close to Percy’s back as he could manage with visions of being beheaded by overhanging rocks.

“Here it comes!” Percy shouted and James dared to peek one eye open. He could see a dim light in front but Percy’s huge horned head blocked most of the tunnel. The light zoomed closer and suddenly James felt the weight of the stifling cave air lifting, and they were surrounded by space in a vast sprawling cavern. Percy opened his wings, climbed to the ceiling of the hall and gripped onto an overhanging stalactite.

James, hanging on in the saddle for dear life, precariously leaned to one side and peered down over Percy’s massive girth to the cave floor. Below them, hundreds of ugly green goblins shrieked and screamed and ran amok, chaos spreading rife as they pointed in horror at the Great Red Dragon hanging from their ceiling.

James drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, his nerves calming somewhat.

“Ye of little faith,” Percy muttered at his master.

“I’m okay… I’m okay… Right, flame-grilled goblin for tea, Percival?”

Percy’s lips curled back into a wicked smirk and he leapt from his perch, circled the hall once, and then began his decimation of the Whispering Lake goblins. He swooped down and scooped up teams of goblins in his powerful jaws and swallowed them whole, spiralled in the air and breathed plumes of white-hot fire over the scrambling masses that were trying to escape, picked up clawfuls of the nasty creatures and carried them high up to the roof to let them fall to their pitiful demise on the rocks below.

Within a few minutes, only a straggled bunch of goblins remained. Percy came down to land in front of them and roared, powerful and mighty.

“TREASURE?!” he boomed into their faces and their wiry hair streamed back with the gust of dragon breath. A few of them succumbed to their fear and keeled over. Percy lowered his head to the floor and glared at the nearest of the goblins almost at eye-level. One of them pointed off to the side at a cleverly concealed doorway in the stone-face. At once Percy burst into the air again, grasped a huge boulder in his talons and hurled it at the doorway. There was a burst of rock that showered the cave floor and there, in the hole that remained, James saw one of the most beautiful sights of his life.

Gold, silver and hundreds of gems were heaped together into a pile so big it spilled out of the room and into the cave with a delightful tinkle. James saw ornate swords, intricate jewellery, sparkling shields and suits of armour that glistened as if they were forged only yesterday.

Percy let out a happy sigh beneath him.

“Looks like pay day came early,” James whispered. “But we can’t possibly keep all this.”

“We can’t?” Percy replied longingly.

“Well – it’s all stolen, isn’t it? It’s not ours to keep, really. Those goblins have probably been sneaking this stuff away from unsuspecting travellers and townsfolk for years. Look – look at that shield – isn’t that the very shield that Baron Vargus lost when he was staying at the Slug and Beetroot over in Tamworth, that he tortured the whole village for, thinking they’d done away with it?”

Percy nudged the shield with his nose. “It bears his crest, yes.”

“Well we can’t carry all of this by ourselves anyway. How about we take a few pocketfuls of gold and drop them off with Anne at home, then see who we can round up at the castle to come back with us and carry this horde back for the King to disperse to its rightful owners?”

“I never knew you had a conscience,” Percy muttered. “Admirable though it is for a human.”

James teasingly nudged the dragon’s scaly flank with his feet. “Come on. There’ll be more treasure, Perce. Who knows, you might have a horde of your own one day!”

With more reluctant muttering, Percy scooped up a jawful of gold coins and proceeded to clamber back to the cave entrance.

“Won’t it melt in there?” James asked him.

“Whath gooth ith a Thrathon tha’ canth cathy golth in ith mouth? Pth!”

15:54 - Fri-24-Oct-2008 - comments {4} - post comment

Percy's Latest

“Do you miss the company of other dragons?”

They were perched up high on a grassy mountaintop, enjoying a light lunch (a sandwich for James, a small warthog for Percy) and basking in the late spring sunshine.

“Can’t miss what you’ve never had.” Replied Percy, nonchalantly picking at his teeth with a hog tusk.

“I know, but… Well… Don’t you ever get fed up of spending all your time with me, instead of maybe soaring through the skies with the other dragons?”

Percy cast James a sideways golden glance and shrugged, his huge shoulders rippling. “I can soar through the skies with you.”

James smiled. “I just thought maybe you might get bored, or lonely, or something.”

“Boredom is a state of mind. And who better to share my company with than myself, when you’re not around?”

The great dragon placed the tusk on a nearby rock, waited patiently for an unsuspecting bird to fly past, and flicked the tusk at it with a long polished claw. The bird plummeted with a squawk and a burst of feathers.

James chuckled. “You’re cruel and twisted, Perce.”

“I am a dragon raised by a brash and impulsive boy. What did you expect?” Percy stretched to his feet and unfurled his great wings. “Goblins, then?”

“Yeah, I reckon. It’s either them or the trolls, and frankly, I’ve had enough of trolls this week to last me a lifetime.”

“Trolls aren’t particularly palatable. I hope goblins taste better.”

“Tell you one thing,” James clambered up the rope onto Percy’s spined back and positioned himself on the leather saddle. “They’re a damned bit richer.”

“The cave north of Whispering Lake, yes? The one with the standing stone at its entrance?”

“That’s the one. Think you’ll fit?”

“I think so. The cave opens up inside. Maybe a large hall. Maybe a treasure hall…” A ripple of excitement made Percy’s scales chatter.

“How do you know it opens up?” James slid his feet into the stirrups and wrapped the reigns tightly around his gloved hands – they were there for him to hang on tightly, rather than to steer the huge dragon.

“I can smell it.”

“Like a dwarf?”

“I ate a dwarf last Tuesday.”

“You did?”

“It told me it could sniff out treasure better than I could.”

“So you ate it?”

“Not immediately. I let it demonstrate its apparent skill by sniffing out a nearby stash of goblin silver, and then I ate the dwarf and took the silver.”

“You’re evil.”

“I’m a Dragon.”

Percy leapt over the edge of the mountaintop and suddenly they were gliding through the fresh spring air.

“Hang on – goblin silver?” James shouted over the wind. “Would that happen to be the same silver that the Whispering Lake goblins accused the nearby villagers of stealing, thus prompting the villagers to request the King’s aid when the goblins started cursing their children, thus landing us with the mission to do away with said goblins, get paid handsomely and pocket any loot we find?”

“Might be.” Percy flashed a wicked grin of gleaming razor-sharp fangs and took a steep dive towards the shimmering lake below.

“Evil genius.”

“Dragon!”

14:59 - Thu-23-Oct-2008 - comments {6} - post comment

More Lorant / Isa Writing. Good Lord.

Isa Dhamara was spending the remaining hour of daylight packing her sparse belongings into a travelbag when the bird flew through the open window and landed on the bedpost. She immediately stopped what she was doing and payed close attention to its chattering and clacking until, minutes later, the bird fell silent and became nothing more than feathers and a skeleton at the foot of her bed. Isa swept the mess away with her foot.

Her search for a ring of dubious power, reportedly currently owned by a wealthy slave trader in this buzzing desert city, had been so far fruitless - but that didn't trouble her. The slave trader would still be here when she returned. The ring was nothing compared to what the skeletal crow had spoken of. If it were true, having a hand in its discovery would enable her to greatly further her talents.

Isa made her way to the seaport, drawing on small founts of power - a scorpion here, a rabid dog there - to quicken her journey. Confused onlookers saw only a shadowy figure flit through the crowds, vanishing at one corner, appearing immediately at another, yards away. The cloaked girl's feet made no sound as they passed along the wooden pier.

She stayed no more than two minutes in the harbourmaster's office and on emerging, made her way directly to the ship docked at the second port. Having a weather-wielding sorcerer on board one's vessel was a great asset to any sailor, and the captain of the Prudence had offered her comfortable quarters, food and drink for their passage north. It felt somewhat reduntant a journey since what she accomplished at the end of it would result in her travelling south again, but her success hinged on an early presence in this unfolding saga. She would sail north, and in a few days, would meet with one of the most influential people on this side of the continent.

___________________


Her eyes were cool and shrouded in darkness. Her mere presence in his spacious office made his skin tingle, but he wasn't sure if that was a product of knowing what this waif of a girl was capable of, or some natural aura she would exude regardless of her power.

For ticking moments they exchanged introductions with their eyes alone.

"Is it safe?" Her voice was deep and vibrant.

He nodded once. She gathered her robes and sank back into the leather chair beside the window. Lorant had spent many hours staring through that window - a wide, sweeping pane that offered views over the rooftops to the museum's domed roof at the city centre. She looked as if she were the kind of girl who'd share his appreciation and indeed took in the sprawling vista before turning her calculating gaze on him. Something inside him cartwheeled.

"I get the feeling you already know what I'm going to say and what I'm going to ask you, so I'm not really sure it's worth me... err... reiterating?" Lorant leaned back against his desk and sought solace from its solid wooden surface.

The girl smiled. The gesture was so brief he might have missed it had his eyes not been struggling to wrench away from hers and found themselves at the curve of her lips.

"You are as insightful as I was led to believe you'd be. Well done; few people reach my expectations." She blinked once, and for that split second he was free of her allure.

"I uh... I'm glad? I'm afraid I know too little of you to say what I expected, but I'm sure you would have far exceeded..." Lorant paused, caught in the futility of saying anything to her - she probably already knew exactly how this meeting would end. He frowned.

Isa's tongue flicked quickly over her lips. The gesture conjured images of serpents and this inhuman association gave him some water to tread. His heart slowed a few paces and he relaxed.

"I know what you're looking for, Lorant Thane. I know why you're supposed to be looking for it..." She arched a slender brow at him and he felt vulnerable at the insinuation.
"I also have to wonder at how astute your mind is, to have drawn the conclusions you have about me."

He watched her eyes travel along the contours of his body and across his desk, his papers, his books.

"It's what I do," Lorant shrugged. "But, you already know that...?"

She flicked her eyes back to his.

"Indeed. I'll go with you. There are conditions, however."

He had expected as much. Lorant found himself more curious than wary of what conditions a girl like this would demand.

"Of course there are. Do tell."

"That I am aware of your personal vendetta here puts you at a slight disadvantage. I won't reveal this. In return - though you may speculate all you like - you should not expect me to tell you what my own motives are."

Lorent smiled.

"So you're coming, then?"

The girl turned once again to the window.

"Obviously."

16:19 - Tue-24-Jun-2008 - comments {8} - post comment

Lorant Thanh (From Today's Spammy Goodness)

Lorant Thanh was raised in the Upper Middle Class district of an opulent city by his mother, owner of a successful boutique; and his father, a business man with multiple shares in the textile importing industry. On completing his schooling five years ahead of his counterparts and achieving one of the highest examination score averages recorded in the Kingdom, Lorant began an apprenticeship in the Chamber of Commerce. Over the next two years he was solely responsible for negotiating thriving trade routes with three neighbouring countries (one of which had previously declared it would never trade outside of its borders).

In search of a more interesting occupation of his time and curiosity, Lorant (now nineteen years of age) trained two protégés to continue his work in commercial trade and appointed himself head of a new division of the Chamber responsible for the investigation and subsequent control of 'mysterious artefacts'.

His finds so far have been housed in the city's vast museum. The revenue from increased tourism coupled with the value of the items now registered as belonging to the city has raised the city's net worth enough to mark it the richest city in the western hemisphere.

Lorant hadn't expected such success and indeed had hoped to run his department in a quieter fashion. Realising the dangers of housing a collection of powerful artefacts all under one roof he campaigned to have the items removed and dispersed to 'safe locations' but the greedy City Council had already become too familiar with their growing coffers and refused to do anything of the sort. Lorant was so disturbed by their heedless reaction that he tried to close the department and retire from his post. A persuasive visit from a hired ‘strong arm’ convinced Lorant that he would be best to continue to lay in the bed he'd made for himself.

Lorant is currently investigating rumours of a significant treasure trove, hidden deep within an ancient temple in the largely unexplored forests to the south. He plans to assemble a party to recover the horde. If he happens to ‘vanish’ in the course of duty, then there’s '”nothing the damned Council can do about it”.

13:29 - Tue-24-Jun-2008 - comments {12} - post comment

Tomeka Tova, Continued from Previous

Also slightly edited the first bit but I won't bore you with reading it again.



For the next few minutes the diminutive rogue slipped in and out of consciousness, partly due to his inebriation and partly due to his being dragged over the rough forest floor. Had he been sober he might have had an inkling of which direction he were headed, but he didn't even attempt to gauge, and rather felt that the best approach would be to let himself hang limp until the journey finished. Finally he felt their pace slow to a crawl and the ground stopped moving beneath him. He was able to roll himself onto his stomach, shakily lift himself to his knees and vomit himself to some semblance of sobriety.

Tom sensed that his captor - or perhaps, liberator - was waiting for him to finish. He wiped his mouth, decided he wasn't quite ready to stand yet, and flopped sideways onto his narrow rump. The beast, a little more delicately than back at the jailhouse, picked him up in a great paw and slung him over its back. Much to his surprise the fur was reasonably soft and certainly more comfortable than the dry straw he thought he'd be bedding down on. Tomeka spread himself out across the beast's back, hung his legs down on either side, dug his fingers into the creature's fur and, as the beast continued at a gentler pace through the forest, closed his eyes and drifted into a reasonably content (if somewhat jolted) sleep.

***

It was early morning, the damp and misty kind, when Tomeka willed his eyes open. They were dry, and stung as moisture hit, but that was of his own doing - he gave himself no sympathy for self-inflicted ills.

From what he could tell without lifting his head, he had been brought to a coppice of young pine, beneath one of which he now sheltered. He had been covered with a blanket and, lifting his fingers to tentatively touch his aching head, he felt that his wound had been cleaned and dressed.

Tom shuffled up the trunk of the pine until he was sitting upright against it. From the degree of care he had received, he assumed (lightly) that he was rescued and not captured - though with his reputation, and doubtless uncountable enemies, it was always possible that he had a bounty for 'safe capture' on his head. He subtly
checked for the small knife hidden in his belt.

"You won't need that."

She reminded him of a silver birch, all long limbs and flowing movement. Her hair was grey, but she wasn't old - indeed, she seemed ageless. Tomeka found that he couldn't take his eyes off her; not from attraction, but from wariness of what lay beneath her olive skin - like a tiger in a cage she prowled across the makeshift campsite and kneeled - coiled - on the ground before him.

"I might," Tomeka croaked. He hadn't realised how dry his throat was - ironic, he thought, since he'd drank so much. He stared defiantly into her deep brown eyes and she met his gaze with no sign of a flicker. A strong woman, no doubt, though she looked that she might snap like a twig.

She uncoiled and walked across the campsite again, taking a mug and a kettle and pouring from the latter into the former. She came back to him, passed him the mug and motioned for him to drink as she introduced herself.

"I am Joya Serafina. You may have heard of me - but I would be surprised. I am one with nature and her friends. I am the spirit of the animal, the whisper of the wind, the strength of the earth. I have been sent to bring you to meet with some people who desire your help. I need tell you no more - they will arrive before the day is out."

23:58 - Mon-23-Jun-2008 - comments {5} - post comment