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Falcor walked the stone halls of the Dwarven Citadel of Angladesh. It was a vast system of caverns, tunnels, and homes to the dwarves, it was also rumored that a Dragon raised by a dwarf lived there, and this dragon did not take kindly to half dragons. It was a few days ago, when he discovered a new power he had, he had killed a bandit with a ray of fiendish magic, though how this happend was unknown to him. Perhaps, he wondered if he was a warlock, and just now his powers were manifesting, but he couldn't be sure, but it truly didn't matter. This new power, he learned to control within half a day, of destroy two small trees, with it, though he prefered his physical weapons over the magic, it would come in handy if need be. He had met up with the Dragon, Casiera a few days ago, he had lost her in the crowd of dwarves, but had no doubt that she'd find him again. She seemed to take particular interest in him, perhaps because he was a half breed, perhaps not. But it did not matter, as he had walked into the the smithy of Felden, the dwarf stood hunched over an anvil, but this time, he saw something in there with him, a dragon, looking very regal in appearance.

Casiera was enjoying herself. She had momentarily forgotten that she was seperated from her new friend, Falcor. She had found a large area amongst a crowd and was using the time to entertain them with tricks and acrobatics. The attention was addicting and she pulled all the difficult and flashy tricks she knew. Sometimes she would stop and talk with one of the people, enjoying the new faces. She had seen dwarves many times in her travels as well as some of the other folk that happened to be around but she still enjoyed it all the same. Yes, attention was addicting.

Ambassador lay next to his master, listening to the clang of the hammer. It was an enjoyable sound to him, one that he had come to be quite fond of in his years growing up with the dwarves.
The sound of someone entering the smithy reached him and he turned to see the newcomer. His eyes narrowed and a deep rumble started in his chest at the sight of a half dragon. He got to his feet (as much as he could in the small area) and took a menacing step forward.

Draconis opened his eyes, unaffected by the bright sunlight. Angladesh sprawled before him from his vantage point on the mountainside. He rose up, stretching his limbs. Talons clicked on stone as he exited the cave, then launched into the air. Using heat, he created a mirage in the air that hid him from view. Unless someoen looked straight at him, he would go unnoticed.

As much as he hated to, Brothorn had to make a stop for provision in Angladesh. It wasn't the dwarves that bothered him so much, but the tales of the dragon that was supposedly there. Brothorn hated dragons, half-breeds as well. His goal in life was to track down and kill the dragon who murdered his family. Although he didn't kill every dragon he saw, he never trusted any of them. He wasn't a murderer. Brothorn had a way of telling the good from the bad. Kill only the ones that mean you harm, and simply ignore the rest. That's the way he lived.
And now he was here in the dwarven city with a dragon running around somewhere. Brothorn knew it wasn't the one he was looking for, but he still didn't want to meet it. Dragons always knew too much, asked too many questions. He wanted to get in, get out, and not be delayed.
Brothorn rounded the corner and ran into a crowd laughing and cheering at a dragon doing tricks. Brothorn watched for a second, unimpressed by the dragon's attention-grabbing antics. He snorted, "Pathetic," then turned and walked the opposite way.

Sashiara swirled above the mountain, not entirely sure this was the place she wanted to be. Dwarves weren't that much better than humans, though they were very agreeable when it came to business and purchases, both with her meager supply of gold and her scales when she had little else to trade. All that said, they were still annoying little creatures, at least in her opinion. Constantly digging, forging, and eating, like ants, tirelessly doing what they do best, work. Just watching them from so far away made her tired.

Oh well, She thought, there is one thing good about ants. Suddenly the dragon took a sharp dive, cutting though the air, her wingless flight slowing as she got closer to her target. Her scales cleared the chimney-vent in the mountain, her form shrinking as she went. By the time the once-dragon had reached the bottom, her serpentine body had reverted into a vaguely humanoid shape.

To the dwarves at the end of the fireplace in a hallway at the base of the mountain, a sudden unseasonable draft rushed into the fireplace, extinguishing the flame instantly, and a thin coat of frost had formed in their place. She flipped over, feet first as she hit the ash at the bottom of the shaft. It plumed around her and into the hall. As it settled, it clung to Sashiara's now human body, and transfigured into a fine cloth dress, very reminiscent of the ash it had been. The dwarves had scattered from the dust and now scrambled around like ants whose nest had been kicked, surprised and alarmed at the intrusion. A couple of them rushed forward, axes in hand.

"Narkendosh! How good to see you! I take it from that beautiful axe you're wielding that you've been in good fortune?" The dwarf blinked twice before he recognized his old friend.

"By Thor's Hammer, Sashiara! Why do you alway have to make a ruckus of an entrance every time you come to my forge!? There are doors in this mountain for a reason!"

"Sorry Narken, I just can't wait to see your wrinkly old mug, not to mention I always bump my head on your low door." After similar quips a little compensation for the coat of grime and debris on everything she said a temporary farewell and left down the hall, anxious to put an end to this feeling of needing to be somewhere deep in her stomach.

Brothorn stopped at a small booth and bought a few provisions. He slung the bag over his shoulder and went on his way. He was trying to remember if he had forgottened anything. Suddenly, somebody hurrying in the other direction bumped into Brothorn, causing him to drop his bag.
"Hey! Watch where you're g-", Brothorn turned to see who had been so rude, but stopped midsentence when he saw it was a girl. A very pale girl, in fact.

Falcor looked at the dragon, and put his right foot slightly behind his left, as he drew Dragonfang from its scabbard. The blade began to heat up along the edges, soon glowing red hot, it was obvious the heat enhanced this thing's stabbing and cutting power, the air began to sizzle from the heat of the blade, "I suggest you back down, Dragon, I've no quarrel with you, but if you make one, I'll not hesitate to fight." Falcor said, moving over to the Dwarf, to get a helmet, it was made of a mix of steel and mithral, still just as strong, but lighter atleast. He put it on, it fit him quite well, and gave the dwarf twenty gold pieces, and began to walk out, after putting the sword in it's scabbard when the dragon made no move.

Her dragon instincts nearly took over and she started to hiss at him shouting at her, but managed to catch herself and turned the sound into a sorry and helped him pick up his things. The feeling in the pit of her had died down and now her innards were twisted in knots. Whatever this magic was, its source was close. In searching for it she hadn't looked where she was going. For once it was her fault. No, what am I thinking? It is this damn magic, not me. Annoyed at herself and suddenly everyone around her she unceremoniously dumped the armful of stuff she had picked up into his bag. They both stood up at this point. "Sorry for the disruption, but I was rather... distracted." She looked away at this but snapped back an instant later her eyes locked onto his. "You wouldn't happen to know magic would you?"

"Thanks," Brothorn said a little sheepishly as the girl returned his things. He wasn't expecting her to help. He kinda wished she hadn't. Girls were not Brothorn's thing. His shyness always kicked in. . .big time.
What made it worse, this girl didn't leave. Their eyes locked. His deep green eyes couldn't pull away from hers. . .Wait. . .There was something strange about this girl. Her eyes were different. Brothorn had the feeling that there was more to her than what was seen. He fidgetted a little.
"Magic? Uh. . .no. . .sorry. . ." He wanted to get away from her but at the same time, go with her. He didn't like the feeling. His shoulders itched. He shifted his ax.

With a rush of wind, Draconis landed next to Felden's smithy as Falcor exited it. He lowered his head, bringing himself eye to eye with him.. Hello, halfling.

He stammered, so either he is just a simpleton who doesn't know how to talk or he's lying. Sashiara misinterpreted. It doesn't matter; either way I should keep him around in case he is what my dragon instincts are telling me about. "Sorry about that, it's just I've never seen anyone travel so light. So, what made you come here? Did you have business with the dwarves?"

Brothorn couldn't pull away from her eyes. Something about her put him on edge. He could feel a strong flow of power coming from her. His shoulders continued to bother him. What is she?. . .Dragon?. . .No, it's different, but the same. . . Brothorn didn't like te confusion. What made things worse was that she seemed skeptical of him.
"I. . .carry what I need. . ." Brothorn stammered out more answers to more questions. He nudged his bag. "Provisions." He was hoping that she would grow uninterested and leave. He wastrying to go, but her eyes somehow holding him in place. It was like she was purposefully, magically, keeping him there. Why?

She chuckled. "Yeah, I gathered that." She glanced at the counter he had just come from. "Well, if you are finished here you could accompany me to the main hall. I hear a dragon is making quite the performance today." Besides me of course. Sasha neglected to add. She had picked up the rumor from Narken before she'd left.

Accompany?! A girl?! Hardly! Besides, Brothorn had already seen the dragon.
"Seen it," he said quickly. "Nothing special. . .just a dragon. . ." A bit of disgust crept into his voice as he said the last word. Only one paying close attention would have caught it. His facial expression remained unchanged. He shifted from one foot to the other, still wanting to leave.
Who was this girl? How was she holding him here? And what did she want from him?

OOC: Err...does anyone mind if I join this?

OOC: Yeah, feel free, just post your char in the OOC to get approved by heavyman.

IC: "And what's wrong with dragons?" She asked lightheartedly. There wasn't any of the menace she was feeling in her tone, Sasha didn't want to give away the secret just yet. She sniffed, as if not really caring for an answer. "A real gentleman wouldn't care if he had seen the show already and give the lady a good time."

"Just ain't got any interest in them. . .A good time?!" Brothorn's face turned instantly red. Shit! He hated dealing with girls. He had been on his own since he was 13. He didn't know how to deal with others anymore, much less girls. He took a step back. Then a step forward. He wanted to go. Soemthing pulled him to stay. Go. Stay. Go. Stay. This was all so confusing. Brothorn was growing frustrated and uncomfortable. His shoulders itched like crazy. He shifted his ax and provisions. He didn't like this power that the girl had over him.

Frostbite walked into the dwarven city and looked around nervously, then shifted her cloak so it completely covered her wings and tail. She was hurrying towards the food shop when she accidentily bumped into someone. ((brothorn))
"Oops! sorry!" she said, hoping he hadn't seen her wings when she bumped into him.

OOC: Poor Brothorn! Everybody's running him over!


IC: As someone else bumped into Brothorn, he blinked and shook his head as if coming out of a trance. Quickly, without thinking, he moved past the strange-eyed girl, trying to get away as fast as he could. He had walked about ten feet when he realized he was going the wrong way. He was headed back to the crowd of people and the showy dragon. Just the way the girl had wanted him to go. Brothorn stopped. He thought about turning around, but the girl was now between him and the exit. He didn't like whatever it was she did to him, but he also wanted to leave. What was he to do?

As Brothorn trailed off he was bumped into by an odd girl. She answered her apology. "No, no, it's perfectly all right! In fact why don't you join us?" Without waiting for an answer Sasha took her by the hand and caught up with Brothorn, who had drifted through the crowd like a child after being jarred by the girl. She let go of the girl and slung an arm around his shoulders. "So you're going to see the dragon after all. Oh, look, there's a bar! How 'bout we get a table and watch the show?"

Frostbite mumbled that she would join them, she was glad that they hadn't seen her wings. She sniffed the air, trying to pick up the scent of the dragon they were going to see, but picked up a dragon scent much closer to her. She could barely smell it, even with her better-than-average senses. Frostbite's eyes widened, the scent was coming from the girl with brothorn![/i]

Quickly, Brothorn grabbed the odd girl's arm and twisted from under. Without looking at her, he said, "Sorry. I really have to go." He was never going to get away from her! He turned to head to the exit but the crowd slowed him down. He turned this way and that but ended up colliding with the new girl (frostbite). Brothorn had brushed against her cloak. Was that a tail he had seen?! He stared back at her and ended up stumbling over something on the floor. A basket. He caught his balance by leaning up against a wall. He bent over and quickly tried to free his foot from the basket.

"Agh. That hurts you know!" She saw the new girl staring at her with widened eyes, before Brothorn stumbled into her, briefly exposing her tail. She apparently gave up on disguises and showed her wings and tail by undoing the clasp on her cloak. "Ah, so you're dragonkin. Then you smell me as what I really am, sis."

Brothorn was close to panicking as he tried to get his foot out of the basket. "Relax, you're in good company. As long as you aren't on any bounty poster I wouldn't dream of putting so much as a claw on you." Her eyes narrowed to snake like slits for a second. "I give you my word."

OOC: By 'sis' I mean of dragon blood or heritage, not an actual sibling.

frostbite saw brothorns eyes widen as her cloak accidendentily swung aside to momentarily reveal her tail. She swore and attempted to move her cloak quickly over her tail before he saw her wings too, but in her hurry, she snagged her hand on the clasp and the cloak fell off, showing the entire town her tail and wings sprouting out of some holes in her tunic.

Frostbite nodded at sasha then closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her wings and tail were going to take some explaining, she knew it.