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Cat and Dragon - Printable Version

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Cat and Dragon - skiesofpurple - 02-18-2021

Fancy thing

Might need to think of a better title tbh


RE: Cat and Dragon - skiesofpurple - 02-18-2021

The cart took a particularly nasty lurch and Eric awoke with a start, banging his head hard against a wooden crate that he was absolutely not allowed to open under any circumstances, no matter what he heard rattling around inside. He groaned and rolled over, arms now wrapped around his too human head and weirdly fragile skull, listening mutinously to the muffled tinkling inside the crate he wasn’t allowed to open, and silently grumbled about being given practically the whole night watch.

Again.

And being told he could just sleep in the cart afterwards.

Again.

Only to be woken exactly like this, yet ag-. Well. You get the idea.

He wondered if it was worth trying to argue about it tonight, but dismissed the idea, knowing what they’ll say. Something something about him being an elf, something something about them being lucky they let him ride along in the first place, something something else. It didn’t matter. He’d take the night watch again tonight for the same reason he’d taken it every night. He knew that he was the most suited, out of all of them, to protect everyone in the dark and he’d gladly take up the responsibility. He just wished someone would at least lend him a blanket for his head if he was supposed to take cat naps in the carts all day. The kind protectors in the stories always got favors from the people they protected, he thought sullenly, just like the kids would sneak him extra berries when he chase the gators out of the yard back home.

At this point, Eric basically resigned himself to being awake. He yawned loudly, not bothering to hide the flash of sharp teeth while no one was watching, and carefully picked his way out towards the back of the cart, squinting through the gap in the curtains to see outside. The sun was high in the sky, probably about midday, and when it shown on the leaves of the trees on either side of the road the leaves practically glowed. Enthralled, Eric scrambled out the back and somehow managed to land on the correct feet, quickly trotting to the side to keep out of the way of the next cart and so he could slow down and just. Stare for a bit. He needed a moment.

This was why he’d left, after all. He still missed his family, felt the distance to them like a hook under his breastbone, felt the whispers of possessive fear at leaving what was his behind, unprotected. But the itch on his back danced along his wing bones, seen and unseen as they were, telling him to open them and soar to new places, scout new territories, explore and learn and discover. That was what he was following now.

Some back home scoffed and whispered about it, his wanderings. Oh they all wandered with the seasons and the with the fruit and game as it came in season, tending their forests and swamps and crops, but not like he did. He broken tradition. The days where he’d come back near midnight with the scent of the ocean on his wings and colorful fish scales in his claws. Other days where he brought back grasses and flowers that couldn’t grow in their soil, birds that didn’t live in their trees. The larger he grew, the further he roamed, but all of that was nothing, nothing at all to how far he was now. Ma and pa had understood, encouraged him even, to take a big journey. The day everyone gathered around to celebrate his first half a century, the bag of gold dropped in his lap, it had been one the happiest days of his life!

When it turned out that he still ate more than anyone else in the village with two legs or four, well. When he’d decided to leave, that party was the second best of his memory. Some going away presents were more pleasant than others, but he carried each token close to his heart.

He’d never expected how slow it would be, traveling on two legs all the time! He only had enough gold to shift back once, you see, so he couldn’t just fly north and change forms whenever he thought he saw people. That was why, after months on his own, only running across the odd traveler here and there, many of them unfriendly, he’d jumped at the chance to join a proper caravan! He could see the world from the back of a cart! Travel with people! Learn new customs! And, eventually, they were supposed to wind up in a kingdom that trained actual knights!

The last cart rolled by as Eric sighed and breathed in deep, tasting strange air that didn’t have the faintest trace of salt, but did carry a sharp note he’d never smelled before. Some day soon, he’d meet a real knight. He could figure out the rest from there.


RE: Cat and Dragon - SolitareLee - 02-18-2021

There was a caravan coming through.

Thank God, there was finally a goddamn caravan coming through. The last one had been weeks ago. It had been elven, which meant good pickings, since they only traveled with useful shit. Human caravans, like this one looked, were a bit more hit and miss. Sometimes it was like, an entire wagon of turnips. Sometimes it was completely useless shit, coal or gems or any number of inane trash.

Sparta squinted at it as it wound up the mountain path, perched as he was up in a high tree. His nails gripped into the bark a little sharper than they should have; the fae-touched never escaped intact, but his nails were the least of what they'd given him. There didn't seem to be a lot of guards. This was good. Not because guards were a concern, but because more guards were normally a sign of a useless caravan full of glittering garbage.

It wasn't like he had a choice. He was out of apples and sick to death of skinning rabbits. He was going to get scurvy at this rate. He dropped down out of the tree and head towards the road.



He let them come across him, sitting on a rock by the road. He sometimes wondered how he must look to others, but rarely. His smile was charming by definition; the technicalities of how it looked were irrelevant. He was a beacon of adoration, everything else, from his ill-fitting elven flannels under a ragged coat of mixed animal skins, down to his disconcertingly new shoes, was details no one's eyes ever got around to taking in.

"Hi," he said to the first man who laid eyes on him, watching as his eyes grew wide and slack. "What are you guys carrying?"

"Um," the man stammered, and Sparta didn't bother not to roll his eyes at the flush rising on the man's cheeks. He didn't wanna know what that freak was thinking about. "Glasswear? The fancy stuff; we're taking it into Crithe."

Sparta sighed. Useless. What the fuck was he supposed to do with glasses? "Anything else?"

"Some leathers, furs... really high quality!" the man said, with the air of someone trying to impress. "Got some real nice rice from down south, some cheese, grains..."

Sparta perked up at this. What kind of idiot lead with "glassware"? "Can I have it?"

"The... cheese?"

"Whatever you think is nice," Sparta said, his smile bland. "It gets so cold out here, and I'm hungry. I want furs and cheese. Maybe some grains. Oatmeal?" he mused to himself, considering what he could use. He wasn't entirely sure about rice, but he wasn't exactly in a position to be picky.

"Oh. Uh. Sure?"

"Carl, who are you talking to--oh."

A woman, older. Even better. "I need supplies," Sparta said, no charm or seduction or batting of eyelashes sinking into his words. The way the woman reacted, you'd think he was an injured child crying by the side of the road.

"Of course you do! Poor thing! Carl, break open some of the crates. What do you need, sweetheart?"

By now, a crowd was gathering, from which a few soft gasps emitted as people, en masse, were struck with the agonies of love at first sight. None of them would ever doubt it again, after this; or maybe they'd doubt it all the more for how fleeting it would be. Well, it would be a good lesson for them. Love was taking.

"Oh, that's a lot!" Sparta said, impressed, as Carl pulled a large sack of what was some kind of grain, maybe rice, off a wagon. "Maybe you should give me a horse, too?" He glanced at the number of horses they had. Would they still be able to get through the mountains? Oh, probably. He was lightening their load, after all.


RE: Cat and Dragon - skiesofpurple - 02-19-2021

With a determined nod, Eric turned back towards the caravans, ready to have to trot them down to catch up, only to find them, uh. Stopped. Which was damn strange, considering he knew for a fact that the caravan master typically wouldn’t stop until two hours past dusk at the earliest. He sped up to try and get up front to see what all the fuss was about. What he saw only made him even more confused.

Everyone was gathered around a… person. Fawning over him would probably be a more accurate turn. Dora was standing over him, fretting, as if he were a long-lost son who’d come back to her covered in rags and starving. She had Carl running between the carts, back and forth, fetching stuff from the best bags and boxes, ones they weren’t allowed to pull from during the journey.

Utterly confused, Eric tapped one of the nearby women (Sofia? Maybe Sophie?) on the shoulder to ask, “Um, what’s the hold up? Are you guys trading with that guy?”

She turned to him, a dazed look in her eyes as they slid over him and back to the pink guy in the middle of the road, which was also weird because out of all of them, she was the one who’d most reliably talk to him in any given opportunity. She’d even complimented his eyes! “Oh, no, he wants that stuff. He needs to have it. I’m going to see what else he wants, do you think he’d like this?”

He glanced down at the knitting she’d been working on, mittens for the winter. They’d been meant for her father. “They’re very nice, Sophie, I’m glad to see you’ve finished them.” He settled on, patting her on the shoulder when she didn’t seem to hear him. “I’m going to go see what he wants, too.”

“Hey!” Eric shouted, shouldering his way through the crowd. It wasn’t very hard, but he was being careful not to hurt anyone, so it was slow-going. He frowned as he watched Carl struggling to carry an entire box of leathers by himself, everyone else too preoccupied in staring to be much help. He grabbed the box from him entirely and said, “Hey, Carl, go check in the back wagons to see if you missed something useful,” disturbed when that actually worked. Carl hated him and didn’t take orders from anyone.

Frown deepening, Eric carried the box of leathers over and set it down on the ground with a thunk, finally getting a chance to size up this guy that Dora was still henning over. He didn’t see what all the fuss was about. Sure, he was cute enough, Dora would probably want to mother him even without whatever magic he was weaving on her, but that didn’t explain the glaze in everyone’s eyes and the feeling in the air. Eric took in a deep breath, feeling as if he could probably smell the magic if he tried hard enough, only to sneeze. Gods, that was weird.

“So,” He said with a grin, tapping the top of the crate with one too-sharp fingernail. “What was it you were trading for these?”


RE: Cat and Dragon - SolitareLee - 02-19-2021

They were bringing too much again, but that was fine. He'd lash whatever he could use to a horse and head off before they had the sense of mind to decide they didn't want him to head off, which was always a risk. He got kidnapped at least a few times a year, normally in the winter when he got too desperate and forgot his "no robbing bandits" rule.

He barely glanced at the newcomer, other than to note that he looked strong and therefore might be an issue. Bullies and the like had very uncomfortable ways of dealing with adoration. But in a group this large, no one could actually manage to hurt him. Others would stop him.

The question was weird, though. He occassionally did get questions, but mostly they were just excuses to talk to him. Pleas for attentions. He didn't need to be nice; attention was a prize in its own right, really. "The brief, transient pleasure of my company," he replied, straight-faced. "Also, I need them," he pointed out, which should be enough for anyone. He squatted down next to a box and ran his fingers over some of the furs, frowning with consideration, trying to judge by warmth rather than plushness or color. He wasn't as good at eyeballing these things as he'd like to be. "And a horse, I think. A weak one you won't miss. Otherwise I'm never going to get this shit over the mountains."


RE: Cat and Dragon - skiesofpurple - 02-19-2021

Was this guy for real?

Eric looked around, just to check, but everyone who was looking in their direction was still staring at him, as if hanging off his every word. He tried smelling out the magic again, nose wrinkling at the tingling, honey-syrup-sweet miasma that seemed to be rolling off him in waves. He could even feel it, if he concentrated, clinging to his skin and everyone it came across, drawing in whoever happened to be close by. It was a nasty piece of work, but he had no idea how he was doing it. He didn’t know much magic, after all, other than his own. Still, there had to be something else he could do.

“This is a trading caravan,” Eric said, slowly, as if he could have missed it, “These people depend on trade for their livelihoods. I don’t know what kind of magic you’ve worked on them, but I can’t let you just take so much of their stuff for, what was it? ‘The brief, transient pleasure of your company?’”

He leaned down, just to make sure he got the point across, hands braced on either side of the same crate the boy- man? boy? was shifting through. He wasn’t smiling anymore.


RE: Cat and Dragon - SolitareLee - 02-19-2021

It was the tone of voice that actually made Sparta pause and pay attention. Hostility wasn't something he never heard, after all, and it came right before some very bad things.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the man, no attempt made to keep his feelings off his face. "Yeah, no shit. Trading caravans are better because they don't have people like you in them. Sick fuck. Look at everyone around you; see how they're acting? They want to give me things. They want to see me happy. They want to take care of me. You don't feel that way, do you? I bet you feel something else. Let me guess, you're feeling like I owe you something for existing and making you feel the way you're feeling? Like it's my fault; like I owe you. Do me a favor and next time, stick with the bandits so I can avoid you."

He gestured again at the people nearby, several of whose own body language had gotten as hostile as the... elf? Fuck, what was an elf doing with humans? Ugh, twisted fuck had probably gotten thrown out. Elves didn't have a lot of tolerance for those attitudes. "By all means, go ahead, assault me in front of all of them. You're pretty strong, but there's a lot more of them. Scream about magic or whatever bullshit you think is making you feel gay for five seconds, but they're not going to listen. Do yourself a favor and just let me take my shit and leave. In twenty minutes it'll be like I was never here, and you can rationalize in peace with everyone else."

He glanced over at Carl, one of the people who had gone stiff when the elf had leaned over him. "Hey friend, forget the horse. This guy is making me super uncomfortable. Can I just get a bag?"


RE: Cat and Dragon - skiesofpurple - 02-19-2021

There were a couple ways Eric expected this to go. The cowardly villain running once he was found out, only for the hero to chase him down and bring him to justice. The evil villain who used his ensnared prey as hostages, threatening to trade their lives in exchange for the goods and letting him go. The action villain, who'd come out with fire shooting from his eyes and mouth and try to fight the hero head to head! Sucks for that guy, but Eric is largely fireproof.

He was not expecting for the pink man to sneer at him and imply that he was… what? What was he even implying??? The confusion must have shown on his face as he tried to work out what the hell was this guy’s problem with him??? Did he think that HE, Eric, was the bad guy here??? He wasn’t the one trying to rob a caravan, for damn sake!

“What? No. What? Why would I give you things? You haven’t done anything to earn things! You’re robbing these people! I-” he paused, looking around for a moment and seeing the growing hostility on the group of people who’d only just started turning cold tolerance into something a little more warm. This was not going well for him, this guy was not like the bad guys in the stories. What the HELL did he think Eric wanted from him? “I don’t want anything from you, just stop the magic! They’d probably give you some essentials anyway if you’d just asked properly instead of tricking them like this! These are good people!”


RE: Cat and Dragon - SolitareLee - 02-19-2021

"I don't earn things," Sparta said flatly. "They just happen to me." Carl handed Sparta a bag, eyeing the elf suspiciously. He'd probably known that weird elf for a while, maybe trusted him, Sparta supposed. Or maybe just no one loved him enough yet to get in someone's face about it if it hadn't gone outright hostile. Sparta began shoving stuff into the empty bag, as many furs and as much cheese as he could make fit. Not enough. Not as much as if he had time for a horse, but he didn't like this situation. Didn't understand this guy's deal. Elves weren't immune; he knew all too well. Maybe he was some kind of wizard or something, to recognize that magic was taking place. Like Sparta could stop it even if he wanted to.

"Robbing them implies they're not giving stuff to me of their own free will. Hey, you." He pointed at a girl in the crowd, one who was clutching mittens and looking nervously between the elf and Sparta. "Do you like me?"

The girl turned bright red, started stammering. "Um, I, uh, I mean, y-yeah, um, of course, you're, uh, that is..."

"If I asked, would you mind giving me those mittens?"

"Do you want them?" she asked, lighting up like a rising sun. "I, I made them myself!"

"You did a great job," he said, laying it on only to make a point to this asshole. "I'd love them."

Excitedly, she half-ran, half-stumbled over to him, and pressed them into his hands.

"See?" Sparta asked the man irritably. "That's what it's supposed to look like when you care about someone. Maybe work on that about yourself. If it's even something that can be fixed." He pulled the mittens on if only to save room in the bag, which he'd crammed with as much fur and cheese as he could and still have it close. He threw it on over his shoulders, then hefted up a sack of mystery grains. "For the love of fuck, don't follow me. Don't let him follow me," he added, to the caravan this time. "A grown man couldn't possibly have good intentions for following me alone into the woods, right?"

He grunted a little as he shifted his heavy load, and then started heading back up into the mountains, listening carefully for the sounds of a scuffle behind him. He might have to run. He'd probably need to run. Actually, he'd just start running now, to be safe.


RE: Cat and Dragon - skiesofpurple - 02-19-2021

The murmuring of the crowd was grating over his skin. He could taste the hostility in the air, growing, and aimed at him. He was suddenly all too aware of how small he was, how vulnerable even though he was really not. It made him want to bare his teeth and snap, even if he never would, not even allowing his fingers to twitch towards the bag at his belt. That instinct had been trained out of him long ago, but never before in his life had he had such a large group of people looking on him with such open disdain.

He’d been warned, of course. Even though he looked like an elf now, he’d been warned that humans could be pretty close minded sometimes. Strange folk, they were. But he hadn’t expected it of these people, who’d looked at him strange but on the whole, he was convinced, were good.

It was Sophie who really got to him. This guy claimed it was out of their own free will, but those mittens had been meant for her father. He was getting on in years. His hands ached in the cold. He needed them. “Sophie-” but he couldn’t stop her from handing them over, eagerly. “Those are for her father,” was all he managed to get out, words taking on a growl that was too big for his chest, and then he was surrounded.

They were still muttering.

“Strange fellow, what’s with this sudden interest?”

“Yeah, better make sure he sleeps in an empty cart tonight.”


“Didn’t we let him take watch?”

“Not sure if I’ll sleep soundly knowing he can slip away at any time…”

“What if he follows him later! I’d never let him hurt him!”

What was wrong with everyone?

Eyes that were too orange to be brown tracked a disappearing head of pink, even as he had to back up to keep everyone from crowding in too close. They were herding him away. He didn’t know what kind of magic that shitty wizard had cast on everyone, not to make them act like this, but he did know that he sure as shit was going to put a stop to it.

He grabbed the bag from his belt, the only one he made sure to carry with him, plunged his hand inside, and leapt into the air, wings unfurling and catching as he shifted into his more comfortable skin as seamlessly as breathing. This transformation was much easier than the last, when he had to figure out fingers and toes and blunt teeth and deal with the lack of a tail. This form he knew, inside and out, having lived and breathed it for the first fifty years of his life.

It was almost laughably easy to catch up to the thief, restricted to two legs as he was. The real trick was figuring out the right angle to catch him without crashing into any trees. But considering that Eric had grown up in a swamp and cut his teeth on learning to dodge trees and vines, it wasn’t long before a dragon the size of a large brown bear was swooping down to carefully snag the thief in his claws, lifting him up slightly only to pin him to the ground, smoke framing his face as red eyes, narrowed to slits, glowed in righteous anger.

“You didn’t think you’d get away that easily, did you?” He rumbled with satisfaction, teeth bared in what passed for a grin. Well. Usually. Right now it probably just looked like he wanted to eat his captured prey.


RE: Cat and Dragon - SolitareLee - 02-19-2021

Sparta had gotten into plenty of trouble in his life, but it was all, generally, the same kind of trouble, and it all came from the same general source. Generally speaking, terrified screams did not break out from the populace when he was around. His first thought was that the psycho elf had pulled out some kind of weapon, was already obsessed enough with him to resort to hurting others. Not that there was anything Sparta could do if that was the case. The best thing for everyone he could do was get far enough away that the effect would wear off, and the elf could go back to being a danger to other people in a more subtle manner.

There was a roar, though, and that definitely not fucking normal, so he risked a glance over his shoulder and--

Hhhhhuh.

So that was weird.

His bets were solidly still on weird fucking wizard, because the odds of there being a dragon that no one had heard about still alive and this close to Aeris seemed completely impossible, and also dragons didn't just go wandering around the countryside. The fact that there was even one around here was something of a local oddity. But wizards fucking loved imitating dragons. Unfortunately, all of this meant that he probably had some sort of psychotic wizard elf with a very twisted concept of "beloved" chasing him, and the only people nearby were a bunch of fucking caravanners rather unequipped to deal with that.

He lost the heavy bag of grain basically immediately, wincing as it broke across the rocks and scattered onto the ground. Such a stupid fucking waste. He bolted into the woods, with the hopeful assumption that the elf-wizard-whatever would have to lose the wings, at the very least, or maybe he could find someplace to hide long enough for the effect to wear off. Unfortunately, no such luck in either direction. He could only wondered if he'd even gotten far enough away from the humans for them not to come charging after them when sharp claws grabbed him, swooped him up, and then slammed him into the ground.

The weight sure as hell implied it wasn't an illusory dragon, as did the whole swooping-and-slamming bit. Of course not, because he was incapable of having good luck. Probably no chance of there being a particularly helpful elk or bear looking his way at the moment, either.

"I'd hoped, maybe, yeah!" he yelled up at the elf-wizard, frustrated at his own constant misfortune. "I had super hoped that maybe you were fucking psycho but not fucking psycho enough to turn into a dragon in front of a bunch of random humans who clearly did not know what you were, just to chase me down after like five fucking minutes of contact! Most people have shit like limits, you know, fucking morals and shit that keep them from being that goddamn crazy! Most people have to build up to the really messed up shit, so I guess I absolutely underestimated you, yeah!"

He wasn't helping his case here, but he also was in no mood to play the wilting wallflower long enough to try and get away. He hated people like this, and it really was his first time running into one so violent outside of bandit encampments. Even the real psychos in towns, sheriffs and the like, they normally had scruples. The desire to look normal, something bandits often lacked.

"Look, I'm not in the mood for whimpering or crying right now, and I really only have to put up with this until some wolves or a bear or a monster or something shows up, so I guess jump right into the messed up shit so you can get something in before those humans show up with pitchforks and torches."


RE: Cat and Dragon - skiesofpurple - 02-19-2021

Somehow, the situation continue to spiral into unforeseen levels of out of control. He caught the thief, sure, but instead of giving up right there or trying to fight him, like a sensible villain, he just kept accusing him of… of things! Things he hadn’t even done yet, but apparently the guy thought he was going to do! He didn’t know what, exactly, was expected of him in this situation, but the rotten feeling in his gut was growing much faster than he knew what to do with, further irritated by the itch at the back of his scalp where all those stares had lodged into his brain.

He was quickly getting furious. He hadn’t felt like this since he was a hatchling.

“Would you stop that?” He snarled, flames licking the back of his tongue and flashing out the sides of his jaws before he could swallow them down with visible effort. “I swear, you’re more annoying than a whole damn cloud of mosquitos. What are you even accusing me of? All I’m doing is trying to stop you from robbing those people and you just keep looking at me like- like I’m going to eat you!”

He spat that out as if it were unthinkable, even as he thought with guilt about all the other stories about dragons he’d heard. Some people looked at him like that. Disgust, fear. Until they got to know him! Until they understood that he was good, really, just like them! This man, though. He’d been looking at him like that the entire time, even before he grew scales. Just what had he seen in him?

“You’re not making any damn sense,” Eric grumbled, almost to himself. “Why are you so convinced something else is going to show up?”


RE: Cat and Dragon - SolitareLee - 02-19-2021

"Oh yeaaaaaah, why would I think that of some dude who turned into a dragon to hunt me down rather than let me walk off with a single bag of furs and some cheese," Sparta said, rolling his eyes. How much of his attitude was bravado to cover his fear at the sight of fire, he'd never say. "Please stop fucking pretending this is some righteous indignation over cheese. They gave it to me, and you're fooling literally no one, anyway! It's exhausting to watch you act sooooo offended. Like, oh my God, get over yourself, you're a monster, I'm very terrified. Can you just not get it up if I don't cower or something, is that what has you so upset? You caught me in the wrong mood for it, fuckhead, I'm just too goddamn hungry to put up with the psycho-of-the-day's bullshit."

He rolled his eyes again, kicking, not even to harm, at the would-be dragon's underbelly. "You took one fucking look at me and were this obsessed. Why do you think nothing else would be? I swear to God, how are you this dumb? Rambling on about magic like you have a fucking clue what's going on. Do you think I cast a spell on you, is that it? You're pissed because you think I cast Charm Person? Fucking please. People love me. That includes monsters, unfortunately for both of us, and it also includes everything else. Eventually, something will show up whose reaction to love is protectiveness and not psychopathic sadism. Might even be those caravanners you like to pretend you're soooo fond of, like they'd want anything to do with you after you turned into a fucking dragon to chase down and torture some kid they all adore."


RE: Cat and Dragon - skiesofpurple - 02-19-2021

“If I was going to eat you, you’d already be dead!” He tried to argue out of sheer desperation, anger and frustration warring together to have him resorting to yet more of the most cliché lines he can think of that this little shit was probably still going to twist into something stupid. He carefully did not flinch at being called a monster, although he couldn’t help the slow rumbling growl at the insult.

Wait a minute.

“Do you think I’m obsessed with you?” Suddenly some of the shit he’d been spouting made a whole lot more sense. “Your magic doesn’t work on me, idiot. I’m a dragon.” Much to the displeasure of the occasional spirit or trickster who’d tried to lure various members of his extended family away when he was nearby.

Rolling his whole damn head, Eric carefully lifted his claws and stepped away from the prone form of the pink menace. His eyes stayed trained on him, however, narrowed and daring him to try and run. “I’m not charmed by you. I’m not in love with you. I don’t know what the hell kind of magic is rolling off you, but it won’t work on me. Can’t you even control it?” He wrinkled his nose at the last question, realizing he could still taste the magic now, filling up this clearing when the guy hadn't seemed to cast a single spell. Just what was it that it followed him like a cloak and filled whatever area he was in? How powerful must it be to ensnare a whole caravan without him even breaking a sweat?


RE: Cat and Dragon - SolitareLee - 02-19-2021

"No you're--wait. An actual dragon?" Sparta was not in the habit of cloaking his emotions, having never once in his life had a need to, but this would have left him visibly baffled regardless. "That's stupid. Why would you be an actual dragon? There aren't any of those around, just the weird one in Aeris. No one's like, even seen another one, not for like, forever." Just having the one around was kind of a big deal, frankly. "And you were an elf like thirty seconds ago. Although actually," he admitted, "if dragons can do that, it would explain a lot of the rumors about Aeris."

Sparta kicked him again, several times, once he was released, ostensibly in the process of wiggling away. They weren't particularly aggressive kicks, fueled by spite more than anything else. "Dragons aren't immune to magic," he said dryly. "Kind of the opposite, actually, that's the only way to do any real damage." Anyone in Crithe knew that, probably, even those who hadn't been interested in knights and heroes. "If you're a real dragon, you should probably know that before some knight runs you through with a magic blade, yeah? If you're resistant, more power to you, but if I were you, I'd question that line of thought, considering you just chased me into the woods supposedly over one fucking bag of cheese.

"No, obviously I can't fucking control it. One, it's a curse, two, who'd use magic that powerful to steal cheese from some randos? Do you have a brain in that head, or is it like, coal for firepower? If I was capable of casting that kind of magic, I could sell my services to a king or become an evil wizard with dozens of thralls or something," he said, rolling his eyes.