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Summer, 1330
“Who here speaks the human tongue?” The Tassurian officer called out in Auxian before the assembled dragon nation. A din of silence echoed through the valley, some wyrms glaring furiously at the Other Man, others quietly grumbling among themselves, still others simply idly staring at the sky.
After a poor night's sleep, the dragons had been awakened early the next morning by the blaring of Lurs echoing through the valley. Groggy, grumpy, the 300-odd dragons got up in an unorganized mass in the field as an Other Man commander leading a squad of guards and orderlies arrived. Mera again found himself in the presence of Falknir and Hearesecha, the former pointedly pretending Mera did not exist in front of him. Meanwhile the officer had ascended a small wooden platform dominating the field and began shouting at the dragons in Tassurian. A few dragons tentatively raised their paws. An orderly walked among the wyrms, trying not to look frightened while quickly scribbling the comments onto a parchment. Then the officer shouted the question about the human tongue, to even poorer response.
No self-respecting dragon would confess to knowing the language of the humans.
“Those who understand raise a front paw!” The commander continued with a slightly higher pitch, his colonel’s thistles rustling in the wind.
Nothing.
“Otherwise, we will start randomly beheading you rebellious lizards!” The commander finally yelled in frustration. The Other Man troops tightened ranks and leveled their naginatas, while a pair of ogre guards stepped forward, their axes firmly positioned in their arms.
That got the attention of the dragons. A few raised their front paws.
*What’s all this about?* Thergamorth whispered to Mera.
*They’re asking those of us who know humanspeak to raise our paws* Mera replied.
*Well, you know the human tongue, Meratezatgh, you should raise your paw.* The copper dragon responded.
*Hell no * The bronze dragon shook his head. *Heavens knows what they’re gonna do to us.*
*I don’t think it’s bad.* Thergamorth pressed, *They seemed pissed when we didn’t respond. Must need speakers for the war or something. I’d say do it.*
*No.* Mera shook his head.
*Come on!* Thergamorth responded. *Heavens knows you’ve interacted with those killer mammals long enough!*
*Not worth the risk.*
*Just do it!*
*Fine fine. If you’d just shut up about it.* Mera reluctantly raised his paw as well. There were maybe a dozen dragons who did so.
The orderly walked along the lines, counting and transcribing comments on paper. Then suddenly to the surprise of everyone, De Rosseu-the Awerlass- appeared on the field, making a curt motion to the ogres still in fighting stance-causing them to step back to their guarding position- and walked up to the speaking platform. After a quick discussion the other officer quietly descended.
*Apologies, my comrades for this rude introduction.* Awerlass called out in Draconic. *Know that I do not agree with this situation, but I will try to help my adopted people get through this. If the Trasgu are to effectively benefit in this war from the power of you great wyrms, we will need you to work together. Now I know that many of you are uncomfortable with being so close to one another, much less an army of outsiders. But trust me you’ll get used to it soon. *
More Tassurian officers appeared and quickly divided the dragons into groups of five by simple proximity. Hence Mera found himself with Thergamorth, as well as Falknir and Hearesecha. A fourth dragon, a silent, brooding beaked brass dragon by the name of Raphrsah was separated with them.
*These groups that you are now in are your squadrons.* De Rosseu continued. *You will learn to work together. And obey the orders of your superiors, which we will work out with you. All of you will need to listen to your immediate superior, the captain, who will be a dragon controlling your squadron. The captain will obey the major, the majors will obey your Dragon Lords, and finally all will obey myself.*
*What?* A din of grumbling echoed through the crowd. The dragons backed away from each other, growling.
*Silence!* De Rosseu roared like a dragon. *You can’t fight over this. Anyways, for those of you who raised your paw earlier, congratulations, you are now in command of your new squadron!*
All the dragons stopped. Thergamorth, Raphrsah, Hearesecha and Falknir all stood dumbfounded before finally looking over at their new and equally confused leader. Mera wilted as the other dragons glared at him.
*What the hell?* The bronze dragon managed to squeak.
*See?* Thergamorth chuckled triumphantly.
Falknir hissed and stormed off.
Of Montreal - Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse
Courtesy of
theroguez!
“Who here speaks the human tongue?” The Tassurian officer called out in Auxian before the assembled dragon nation. A din of silence echoed through the valley, some wyrms glaring furiously at the Other Man, others quietly grumbling among themselves, still others simply idly staring at the sky.
After a poor night's sleep, the dragons had been awakened early the next morning by the blaring of Lurs echoing through the valley. Groggy, grumpy, the 300-odd dragons got up in an unorganized mass in the field as an Other Man commander leading a squad of guards and orderlies arrived. Mera again found himself in the presence of Falknir and Hearesecha, the former pointedly pretending Mera did not exist in front of him. Meanwhile the officer had ascended a small wooden platform dominating the field and began shouting at the dragons in Tassurian. A few dragons tentatively raised their paws. An orderly walked among the wyrms, trying not to look frightened while quickly scribbling the comments onto a parchment. Then the officer shouted the question about the human tongue, to even poorer response.
No self-respecting dragon would confess to knowing the language of the humans.
“Those who understand raise a front paw!” The commander continued with a slightly higher pitch, his colonel’s thistles rustling in the wind.
Nothing.
“Otherwise, we will start randomly beheading you rebellious lizards!” The commander finally yelled in frustration. The Other Man troops tightened ranks and leveled their naginatas, while a pair of ogre guards stepped forward, their axes firmly positioned in their arms.
That got the attention of the dragons. A few raised their front paws.
*What’s all this about?* Thergamorth whispered to Mera.
*They’re asking those of us who know humanspeak to raise our paws* Mera replied.
*Well, you know the human tongue, Meratezatgh, you should raise your paw.* The copper dragon responded.
*Hell no * The bronze dragon shook his head. *Heavens knows what they’re gonna do to us.*
*I don’t think it’s bad.* Thergamorth pressed, *They seemed pissed when we didn’t respond. Must need speakers for the war or something. I’d say do it.*
*No.* Mera shook his head.
*Come on!* Thergamorth responded. *Heavens knows you’ve interacted with those killer mammals long enough!*
*Not worth the risk.*
*Just do it!*
*Fine fine. If you’d just shut up about it.* Mera reluctantly raised his paw as well. There were maybe a dozen dragons who did so.
The orderly walked along the lines, counting and transcribing comments on paper. Then suddenly to the surprise of everyone, De Rosseu-the Awerlass- appeared on the field, making a curt motion to the ogres still in fighting stance-causing them to step back to their guarding position- and walked up to the speaking platform. After a quick discussion the other officer quietly descended.
*Apologies, my comrades for this rude introduction.* Awerlass called out in Draconic. *Know that I do not agree with this situation, but I will try to help my adopted people get through this. If the Trasgu are to effectively benefit in this war from the power of you great wyrms, we will need you to work together. Now I know that many of you are uncomfortable with being so close to one another, much less an army of outsiders. But trust me you’ll get used to it soon. *
More Tassurian officers appeared and quickly divided the dragons into groups of five by simple proximity. Hence Mera found himself with Thergamorth, as well as Falknir and Hearesecha. A fourth dragon, a silent, brooding beaked brass dragon by the name of Raphrsah was separated with them.
*These groups that you are now in are your squadrons.* De Rosseu continued. *You will learn to work together. And obey the orders of your superiors, which we will work out with you. All of you will need to listen to your immediate superior, the captain, who will be a dragon controlling your squadron. The captain will obey the major, the majors will obey your Dragon Lords, and finally all will obey myself.*
*What?* A din of grumbling echoed through the crowd. The dragons backed away from each other, growling.
*Silence!* De Rosseu roared like a dragon. *You can’t fight over this. Anyways, for those of you who raised your paw earlier, congratulations, you are now in command of your new squadron!*
All the dragons stopped. Thergamorth, Raphrsah, Hearesecha and Falknir all stood dumbfounded before finally looking over at their new and equally confused leader. Mera wilted as the other dragons glared at him.
*What the hell?* The bronze dragon managed to squeak.
*See?* Thergamorth chuckled triumphantly.
Falknir hissed and stormed off.
Of Montreal - Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse
Courtesy of
theroguez!
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Western Dragon
Size 1089 x 1027px
File Size 199.2 kB
Listed in Folders
No one, including Mera, are quite happy about it, but hey being commander has its perks! Thanks bilingualism!
I pronounce it Mer-A-Te-zatgh. Or canonically: “Meratezagth Sreasnesail Dseadesafe.” The dragon pronounced a sound like it was trying to laugh and clear out some mucus at the same time.
I pronounce it Mer-A-Te-zatgh. Or canonically: “Meratezagth Sreasnesail Dseadesafe.” The dragon pronounced a sound like it was trying to laugh and clear out some mucus at the same time.
Lol.
The Other Men don't really care, honestly. The point is to get the dragons into action as quickly as possible, and to win the increasingly bloody and difficult war with the humans as quickly as possible. The Tassurian Empire grew by rapid conquest, and that's what they know, but there's an increasingly large number of objects to juggle right now, and it's getting worse as time goes on.
The Other Men don't really care, honestly. The point is to get the dragons into action as quickly as possible, and to win the increasingly bloody and difficult war with the humans as quickly as possible. The Tassurian Empire grew by rapid conquest, and that's what they know, but there's an increasingly large number of objects to juggle right now, and it's getting worse as time goes on.
The Other Men are a thinly-veiled Neanderthal used as my "orc" race. The world assumes a parallel evolution of Neanderthals and humans past the development of civilization, and it is kinda inevitable that fulfilling the same ecological niche, they would be in continuous conflict for dominance. Despite being physically stronger, the Neanderthals have been losing, and have been pushed to their peripheries of the world, as had happened in the Pleistocene.
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