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Ragnar wakes up in a strange cave and discovers that something is wrong with his body. After an unfortunate accident, he is found by a friendly Ground dragon named Klipp.
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In a darkened cave deep underground, a quiet spring shimmered by a sleeping dragon. With a stir he began to move, splashing the sparkling water along the small shore.
“Ugh…” he groaned, “What happened? Where am I?” His voice was groggy with sleep. The dragon stumbled to his feet. His body seemed heavier than usual. He leaned against the cold, stone wall. His horned head shook as he gathered his bearings. “A…cave?” He called out to the empty space. The dragon turned toward the pool. the water was almost glowing in the chamber, scattering its weak light across the ceiling and scattered crystals. Clicking his tongue, the dragon knelt towards the water and drank.
Though he didn’t notice it, his body grew slightly, growing stronger, sharper. When he had finished his drink, he wiped his mouth with his arm. The feeling of his scaled appendage rubbing against his maw gave him pause. “How dry can my skin be? It’s not even winter!” He leaned over the water’s edge. As the water settled into stillness, his reflection began to form, causing the beast to reel back in horror.
“Wh-where’s my face?” He asked his reflection. “What happened to my skin? My-my hair?!” He felt all over his draconic head, finding horns where hair should be and a snout where his nose should have been.
What Ragnar had hoped to see was a human reflection with piercing blue eyes, shining like the icy waters of the north pole. Instead, a red, scaley draconic snout stared back at him with slitted grey eyes, pale yellow-green horns, and dark red spines that ran down his back from the crown of his head to the tip of his tail.
The dragon was suddenly acutely aware of the new appendages’ weight on his back and the subtle movements that they made on their own. His tail lay behind him, almost as long as he was tall now.
Ragnar turned, scrambled to his feet, and ran into the inky black cave ahead of him. It didn’t take long for him to trip on a large stone, landing hard on his stomach.
His large heart pounded inside a massive chest as he returned to his feet, clambering toward the light ahead of him. Again, he tripped, rolling forward into the new space. The rocky floor tore up his scales, scratching their glossy surface. Something tore in his wing, eliciting a cry of pain. The feeling was short-lived, however, as he slammed into a stalagmite and passed out.
Meanwhile, a burly, brown-scaled dragon was walking along an underground river when he heard rolling followed by a heavy THUD. Picking up the pace, he ran toward the source of the sound. Around the corner lay a dragon sprawled out on the cave floor, unconscious. A nasty gash in the red dragon’s left wing was bleeding out into a small puddle. He looked around for any sign of someone who might have pushed him or a meaningful rock to trip on, but all he found was the smooth cave wall as it ran along the river, no branching pathways, no corners.
The brown dragon leaped into action, sitting the other dragon up against the stalagmite, and gently shook his shoulder, hoping for any sign of consciousness. He looked over the dragon’s body to find it scraped up and bruised, but the blood leaking out of the hole in the red dragon’s wing took his attention. It was a large hole too, even on wings that were much larger than his own. He grabbed a cloth from a pouch from his waist and pressed it against the wound, eliciting a pained groan from the taller dragon.
Ragnar’s eyes shot open, staring into the amber eyes of the brown dragon. He kicked back toward the stalagmite, wincing as his bruised scales smacked the stone. Breathing frantically, his gaze darted from place to place, trying to make sense of his surroundings. “Where am I? What are you?” Ragnar clutched his arms together like he was trying to cradle himself. He started to hyperventilate, both from fear and the shock his body was experiencing.
The bulky dragon gasped as he held Ragnar down. Small rocks and pebbles shook as he began to speak. “Hey! Hey, calm down! Take deep breaths” Ragnar looked into the concerned eyes of the large dragon in front of him. Slowly, his breathing slowed. The dragon continued, “I’m Klipp and these are the Emerald Caverns.” He gestured around the space, his baritone voice resonating throughout the cavern. “What do you remember happening to you? I just found you unconscious right here.” He pointed to the stalagmite.
Ragnar took several deep breaths, finally calming down. “I…I remember waking up by a pool of water, seeing my reflection, and then running away and tripping on something. Then I woke up here.”
Klipp nodded as he puzzled to figure out what happened. “You said a pool of water? Running away from your reflection? Are you sure that’s what happened?”
Ragnar nodded, “Absolutely, I-I know that’s what happened. I was touring around Stonehenge when SOMETHING happened. Next thing I know, I’m in this place.”
Klipp cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Stonehenge? Where’s that?” He asked as if Stonehenge was something he had never even heard of before.
This time Ragnar cocked his head. “What do you mean? It’s in the UK. It’s this ancient stone structure that people all over the world visit.”
“Oh!” Klipp gasped in recognition, “Stonehenge is a portal station, right? So, you must not have grown up around here then?”
“Of course not!” He snapped back with more aggression than he anticipated. “Dragons aren’t real where I come from. It’s all myth and legend.” Ragnar looked down at his claws. A little bit of blood had stuck to his scales, making them look more menacing than before. “I didn’t expect to wake up as a dragon. This is all too real to be some kind of dream.”
Klipp jolted upright. “Not a dragon? What were you before?”
“Human? What else would I be?”
Klipp gasped, “You were transformed?! A total species change is EXTREMELY rare. I thought something like that was just a myth!” He looked down at the growing pool of blood that was starting to creep toward the water’s edge. Klipp took a deep breath and sighed, “Can you walk? We need to get you to the doctor.”
“Let me see.” Ragnar slowly pushed himself from the stalagmite and grunted as he pulled himself to his feet. He wobbled as he tried to balance his weight on digitigrade claws. He felt sore and his wing continued to sting and ache in pain. The bleeding had almost stopped though! He took a hesitant step and stumbled forward into Klipp’s rocky shoulder. The strong dragon wrapped an arm around him and led them down the path.
“Alright, let’s get you to Quartz Quarry and get you cleaned up.”
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Chapter 1: Fearful Awakenings
Written by: Ryker-Wolf
In a darkened cave deep underground, a quiet spring shimmered by a sleeping dragon. With a stir he began to move, splashing the sparkling water along the small shore.
“Ugh…” he groaned, “What happened? Where am I?” His voice was groggy with sleep. The dragon stumbled to his feet. His body seemed heavier than usual. He leaned against the cold, stone wall. His horned head shook as he gathered his bearings. “A…cave?” He called out to the empty space. The dragon turned toward the pool. the water was almost glowing in the chamber, scattering its weak light across the ceiling and scattered crystals. Clicking his tongue, the dragon knelt towards the water and drank.
Though he didn’t notice it, his body grew slightly, growing stronger, sharper. When he had finished his drink, he wiped his mouth with his arm. The feeling of his scaled appendage rubbing against his maw gave him pause. “How dry can my skin be? It’s not even winter!” He leaned over the water’s edge. As the water settled into stillness, his reflection began to form, causing the beast to reel back in horror.
“Wh-where’s my face?” He asked his reflection. “What happened to my skin? My-my hair?!” He felt all over his draconic head, finding horns where hair should be and a snout where his nose should have been.
What Ragnar had hoped to see was a human reflection with piercing blue eyes, shining like the icy waters of the north pole. Instead, a red, scaley draconic snout stared back at him with slitted grey eyes, pale yellow-green horns, and dark red spines that ran down his back from the crown of his head to the tip of his tail.
The dragon was suddenly acutely aware of the new appendages’ weight on his back and the subtle movements that they made on their own. His tail lay behind him, almost as long as he was tall now.
Ragnar turned, scrambled to his feet, and ran into the inky black cave ahead of him. It didn’t take long for him to trip on a large stone, landing hard on his stomach.
His large heart pounded inside a massive chest as he returned to his feet, clambering toward the light ahead of him. Again, he tripped, rolling forward into the new space. The rocky floor tore up his scales, scratching their glossy surface. Something tore in his wing, eliciting a cry of pain. The feeling was short-lived, however, as he slammed into a stalagmite and passed out.
Meanwhile, a burly, brown-scaled dragon was walking along an underground river when he heard rolling followed by a heavy THUD. Picking up the pace, he ran toward the source of the sound. Around the corner lay a dragon sprawled out on the cave floor, unconscious. A nasty gash in the red dragon’s left wing was bleeding out into a small puddle. He looked around for any sign of someone who might have pushed him or a meaningful rock to trip on, but all he found was the smooth cave wall as it ran along the river, no branching pathways, no corners.
The brown dragon leaped into action, sitting the other dragon up against the stalagmite, and gently shook his shoulder, hoping for any sign of consciousness. He looked over the dragon’s body to find it scraped up and bruised, but the blood leaking out of the hole in the red dragon’s wing took his attention. It was a large hole too, even on wings that were much larger than his own. He grabbed a cloth from a pouch from his waist and pressed it against the wound, eliciting a pained groan from the taller dragon.
Ragnar’s eyes shot open, staring into the amber eyes of the brown dragon. He kicked back toward the stalagmite, wincing as his bruised scales smacked the stone. Breathing frantically, his gaze darted from place to place, trying to make sense of his surroundings. “Where am I? What are you?” Ragnar clutched his arms together like he was trying to cradle himself. He started to hyperventilate, both from fear and the shock his body was experiencing.
The bulky dragon gasped as he held Ragnar down. Small rocks and pebbles shook as he began to speak. “Hey! Hey, calm down! Take deep breaths” Ragnar looked into the concerned eyes of the large dragon in front of him. Slowly, his breathing slowed. The dragon continued, “I’m Klipp and these are the Emerald Caverns.” He gestured around the space, his baritone voice resonating throughout the cavern. “What do you remember happening to you? I just found you unconscious right here.” He pointed to the stalagmite.
Ragnar took several deep breaths, finally calming down. “I…I remember waking up by a pool of water, seeing my reflection, and then running away and tripping on something. Then I woke up here.”
Klipp nodded as he puzzled to figure out what happened. “You said a pool of water? Running away from your reflection? Are you sure that’s what happened?”
Ragnar nodded, “Absolutely, I-I know that’s what happened. I was touring around Stonehenge when SOMETHING happened. Next thing I know, I’m in this place.”
Klipp cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Stonehenge? Where’s that?” He asked as if Stonehenge was something he had never even heard of before.
This time Ragnar cocked his head. “What do you mean? It’s in the UK. It’s this ancient stone structure that people all over the world visit.”
“Oh!” Klipp gasped in recognition, “Stonehenge is a portal station, right? So, you must not have grown up around here then?”
“Of course not!” He snapped back with more aggression than he anticipated. “Dragons aren’t real where I come from. It’s all myth and legend.” Ragnar looked down at his claws. A little bit of blood had stuck to his scales, making them look more menacing than before. “I didn’t expect to wake up as a dragon. This is all too real to be some kind of dream.”
Klipp jolted upright. “Not a dragon? What were you before?”
“Human? What else would I be?”
Klipp gasped, “You were transformed?! A total species change is EXTREMELY rare. I thought something like that was just a myth!” He looked down at the growing pool of blood that was starting to creep toward the water’s edge. Klipp took a deep breath and sighed, “Can you walk? We need to get you to the doctor.”
“Let me see.” Ragnar slowly pushed himself from the stalagmite and grunted as he pulled himself to his feet. He wobbled as he tried to balance his weight on digitigrade claws. He felt sore and his wing continued to sting and ache in pain. The bleeding had almost stopped though! He took a hesitant step and stumbled forward into Klipp’s rocky shoulder. The strong dragon wrapped an arm around him and led them down the path.
“Alright, let’s get you to Quartz Quarry and get you cleaned up.”
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Category Story / All
Species Western Dragon
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 18.2 kB
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