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Ragnar and Dr. Patterson begin their journey for Dracaeli. Little do they know that the storm overhead is much more than your average storm.
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It had been a week since Ragnar got his stitches removed. After the half day and shopping, Ragnar’s routine returned to normal; however, he never saw Slaktullr in the market square. He could still sense his steely gaze watching him, somewhere.
Every night Klipp would get the ingredients for dinner and have Ragnar help prepare the meal. Even at home, Ragnar couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s eyes on him, occasionally waking up in the middle of the night and seeing a pair of floating, glowing eyes in the doorway. He would blink and, just as quickly as they appeared the eyes would vanish into the night.
He kept quiet about it, for fear of being labeled as crazy. This didn’t stop him from voicing paranoia when he was alone with Dr. Patterson.
This concerned the doctor, prompting him to grab a dragon-sized dagger for defense, but for the man, it was more like a short sword. Together, they continued to prepare and acquire items for their journey to Dracaeli.
When the morning that Ragnar’s wings were fully healed and the day the Earthlings planned to leave finally arrived, the skylight above Quartz Quarry opened into a dark and gloomy day. The clouds above were dark like they could start raining at any minute.
Ragnar walked to Patterson’s clinic alone. A chill rushed down his spine as the soft rumbling of thunder reverberated through town. Klipp promised to meet them before they left and see them off, but he needed to get the day off first.
In the doorway to the clinic, Patterson stood with two large backpacks, carefully placing all of his medicinal items into the larger of the two.
“Hey,” Ragnar called. The older man turned, folding over the flap of the bag and securing it.
“Good morning, Ragnar.” He replied. He slowly hefted his bags, holding the larger one out to Ragnar. “Could you take this one?” The dragon nodded and carefully placed the pack over the small of his back and pulled the straps over his shoulders. They connected to a band around his waist like a harness, leaving his wings free to move. With a pair of clicks, the draconian backpack was safely mounted.
“Is there anything else that needs to be packed up?” Ragnar asked. The man shook his head as he pulled the smaller bag over his comparatively slender shoulders.
“It’s best to leave sooner than later.” Patterson shuffled past Ragnar and looked up at the sky. “We won’t be able to fly much by air in that weather.” He pointed to a flashing thundercloud. The dragon nodded in agreement. “Have you gotten everything you need for this trip?”
Ragnar double-checked that everything was safe and secure in his messenger bag. “Yeah, I’ve got food, water, my armor, a weapon, and… a bag full of other supplies you suggested I get.”
The man smiled, closing the curtain and muttering something under his breath as if he were replying to someone.
The two started walking to the flight deck, a large flat plaza just south of the central market. The deck was abandoned, thanks to the worsening weather overhead.
As the first drops of rain dripped into Quartz Quarry, Klipp raced up to the doctor and hybrid. “Hah…I’m glad I caught you two!” He hunched over to catch his breath. “I was afraid *huff* that I wouldn’t *huff* get to say goodbye to you two.” He reached into his bag and produced a large, dark brown scale. He handed it to Ragnar who turned it over in his claws. Etched into the backside of the scale was Klipp’s name. “It’s a little token to remember me by. It’s one of my flint scales, so you can use it to start a fire when you run out of flame or just need something a little more subtle!” He winked.
“Thanks, Klipp!” Ragnar smiled. He opened his arms wide for a hug. The Ground dragon smiled a warm smile and held the younger dragon tight. The red dragon whispered, “Thank you…for showing me the ropes and just…being so kind to me.” His voice broke as tears began to well in his eyes.
“It’s no problem, buddy! We Ground dragons try to be a kinder, more accepting species.” His gaze dropped to the stone platform and paused. “I think Slaktullr is preparing something. Something…bad.”
Patterson cocked his head, “bad?”
“He’s been particularly unfriendly lately, muttering about you two,” he pointed to the Earthlings, “and inferiority,” Klipp replied. “I won’t keep you long, so you can get out before the storm gets worse.”
The sky grew darker. The soft rumbles of thunder grew louder as the central apex of the storm neared the underground town. From the central plaza, a dragon rose, slowly gliding toward the flight deck. Ragnar recognized those angry, glowing eyes from his waking nightmares. He shuddered.
“It’s him. Get going now!” Klipp called as he quickly took flight and placed himself between the dark dragon and the flight deck. He turned, “Go!”
Ragnar and Patterson nodded. The red dragon knelt and got to his knees for the human to climb on. The doctor sat on the large pack like a saddle and wrapped his arms around Ragnar’s wide neck. His scales felt warm, like sitting in a nice, sun-warmed chair.
The dragon grunted from the extra weight before standing tall. His wings made large, heavy flaps as the pair slowly took flight. The two wobbled a little as the hybrid adjusted himself. Their flight accelerated as Ragnar’s large wings flapped harder, climbing closer to the skylight.
Meanwhile, Klipp and the dark dragon met in the air. Slaktullr stopped, fury painted on his face. His eyes caught the slowly shrinking form of the hybrid and human. In a loud voice, “Let me through, Klipp!” he screeched. “Those two don’t belong here…in THIS world or any other!”
Klipp pulled a pickaxe from the holster on his back. “I can’t let you do that. I know what you’ll do.”
The Electric dragon reared back and charged at the sturdy Ground dragon. He screamed in rage as his momentum pushed Klipp out of the way. The Electric dragon tumbled and rolled onto the flight deck. After a moment, he rose to his feet and stood wide. His tail smacked the ground, and his purple scales started to glow. The black scales took on a dark, metallic sheen, like that of a lightning rod.
“No!” Klipp yelled. He soared towards the Electric dragon, only turning his head for a moment to call, “GET AWAY FROM THE SKYLIGHT!!”
Ragnar picked up the warning and veered towards the stone ceiling and started to hover, effortlessly as if he had flown his whole life.
With an earsplitting CRACK! A bolt of glowing purple lightning arched through the sky. The boom rattled Ragnar’s scales and left his ears ringing. The supercharged bolt connected with Slaktullr and Klipp in a flash. Klipp’s face froze as the energy surged through his body. Smoke rose from the air as the Ground dragon collapsed beside Slaktullr. The Electric dragon rolled him off the flight deck, eyes shining with angry tears. Energy sparked behind his eyes as the enraged dragon returned his gaze to the Earthlings.
“KLIPP!” Ragnar screamed. He started to turn back, prepared to dive for the fallen dragon.
“No!” Patterson yelled, temporarily deafened by the thunder. He pulled on Ragnar’s horns, yanking the dragon back like a bull. “Now’s the time to escape! Neither of us could take a hit like that. We need to LEAVE before he can charge up another bolt!”
Ragnar, beginning to openly sob, nodded and turned for the skylight.
Slaktullr screeched, “Cowards! Fight me like a true blood dragon!” He quickly returned to his previous stance, ready to charge another lightning bolt. But before another bolt could strike, Ragnar and Patterson escaped to the surface and dove into a nearby forest, massive and full of golden aspen-like trees.
Rain began to fall in sheets as the Earthlings landed below the dense tree canopy, scraping against branches, and landing hard against the soft earth. Ragnar lost his balance and fell forward into the mud. Patterson rolled off his back, landing on his feet and stumbling forward until he finally stopped with his arms spread wide for balance.
The doctor turned to Ragnar, whose scales were dripping with mud. He screamed over the rain and thunder. “We need to take cover! There should be a cabin nearby that we can take for shelter!” He pointed to a dark section of the woods. Bright, orange leaves prevented what little light the day provided from penetrating the canopy, encasing the forest floor in darkness “This way!”
The man held his hands to his ears, feeling a warm trickle of blood caressing his cold fingers. The man trudged through the mud deeper into the forest. Ragnar stood up slowly, still dripping with mud. As he followed, a single red scale from his underbelly pried itself free from his hide like a loose tooth and fell in the mud unnoticed.
After an hour of walking through the drenched forest, they came across a simple cabin built from the logs of the yellow aspens. No light shone inside.
Patterson scrambled up to the large door and pushed into a massive, single-room domicile. Inside was a kitchenette, nicer than Klipp’s but just as small. In one corner sat a large, dragon-sized bed, framed with small logs and a thick headboard filled with overgrown plants as nature fought to reclaim the small patch of land.
In the center of the room sat a large rug made from the soft hide of a monstrous wolf creature. Beside it sat a wooden couch with similarly fur-lined cushions.
At the end of the room was another door that opened to a small, covered path to an outhouse. Beside the door was a fireplace, separate from the cooking hearth in the kitchenette.
The doctor stepped inside while Ragnar shook his body like a wet dog, wicking the dripping water from his glossy scales. The doctor removed his wet overcoat and clothes, leaving undergarments on for modesty’s sake, and sat on the floor, leaning against the wooden arm of the couch’s left side.
Ragnar walked over to the fireplace and knelt down. “I’ll start a fire.”
“No,” he interrupted. “The smoke would alert Slaktullr to where we are. The dragon sighed as he approached the couch and sat down in the center. He turned to the human. The man’s clothes were completely soaked with the cold rain. He was shaking uncontrollably.
“You’re shivering.” He looked at his scaled hand and thought for a moment. The dragon took a breath and gently blew a small flame onto his hand, which quickly caught fire, shedding light and warmth into the room. Only small whisps of smoke rose from Ragnar’s flaming scales as the dragon slid from the couch to the floor. He held the warm flame close to the man.
“Thank you.” He replied as he leaned against the dragon’s warm scales and held out his hands to the fire.
After a long silence, Patterson spoke up, no longer shivering. “We couldn’t risk getting hit too. We’d never be able to take a hit. Klipp…might’ve survived.” He looked around for the right words. “Ground dragons aren’t as susceptible to electrocution as we are.” He paused. “But…even the most powerful of strikes can take down a dragon as sturdy as Klipp.”
Ragnar began to sniffle as the tears returned. His flaming hand went out as he gripped around his legs and curled up, beginning to sob again. Patterson could only reach his shoulder and gently rub the dragon’s back as the sobs slowly put the two to sleep.
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Chapter 6: Escape from Quartz Quarry
Written by: Ryker-Wolf
It had been a week since Ragnar got his stitches removed. After the half day and shopping, Ragnar’s routine returned to normal; however, he never saw Slaktullr in the market square. He could still sense his steely gaze watching him, somewhere.
Every night Klipp would get the ingredients for dinner and have Ragnar help prepare the meal. Even at home, Ragnar couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s eyes on him, occasionally waking up in the middle of the night and seeing a pair of floating, glowing eyes in the doorway. He would blink and, just as quickly as they appeared the eyes would vanish into the night.
He kept quiet about it, for fear of being labeled as crazy. This didn’t stop him from voicing paranoia when he was alone with Dr. Patterson.
This concerned the doctor, prompting him to grab a dragon-sized dagger for defense, but for the man, it was more like a short sword. Together, they continued to prepare and acquire items for their journey to Dracaeli.
When the morning that Ragnar’s wings were fully healed and the day the Earthlings planned to leave finally arrived, the skylight above Quartz Quarry opened into a dark and gloomy day. The clouds above were dark like they could start raining at any minute.
Ragnar walked to Patterson’s clinic alone. A chill rushed down his spine as the soft rumbling of thunder reverberated through town. Klipp promised to meet them before they left and see them off, but he needed to get the day off first.
In the doorway to the clinic, Patterson stood with two large backpacks, carefully placing all of his medicinal items into the larger of the two.
“Hey,” Ragnar called. The older man turned, folding over the flap of the bag and securing it.
“Good morning, Ragnar.” He replied. He slowly hefted his bags, holding the larger one out to Ragnar. “Could you take this one?” The dragon nodded and carefully placed the pack over the small of his back and pulled the straps over his shoulders. They connected to a band around his waist like a harness, leaving his wings free to move. With a pair of clicks, the draconian backpack was safely mounted.
“Is there anything else that needs to be packed up?” Ragnar asked. The man shook his head as he pulled the smaller bag over his comparatively slender shoulders.
“It’s best to leave sooner than later.” Patterson shuffled past Ragnar and looked up at the sky. “We won’t be able to fly much by air in that weather.” He pointed to a flashing thundercloud. The dragon nodded in agreement. “Have you gotten everything you need for this trip?”
Ragnar double-checked that everything was safe and secure in his messenger bag. “Yeah, I’ve got food, water, my armor, a weapon, and… a bag full of other supplies you suggested I get.”
The man smiled, closing the curtain and muttering something under his breath as if he were replying to someone.
The two started walking to the flight deck, a large flat plaza just south of the central market. The deck was abandoned, thanks to the worsening weather overhead.
As the first drops of rain dripped into Quartz Quarry, Klipp raced up to the doctor and hybrid. “Hah…I’m glad I caught you two!” He hunched over to catch his breath. “I was afraid *huff* that I wouldn’t *huff* get to say goodbye to you two.” He reached into his bag and produced a large, dark brown scale. He handed it to Ragnar who turned it over in his claws. Etched into the backside of the scale was Klipp’s name. “It’s a little token to remember me by. It’s one of my flint scales, so you can use it to start a fire when you run out of flame or just need something a little more subtle!” He winked.
“Thanks, Klipp!” Ragnar smiled. He opened his arms wide for a hug. The Ground dragon smiled a warm smile and held the younger dragon tight. The red dragon whispered, “Thank you…for showing me the ropes and just…being so kind to me.” His voice broke as tears began to well in his eyes.
“It’s no problem, buddy! We Ground dragons try to be a kinder, more accepting species.” His gaze dropped to the stone platform and paused. “I think Slaktullr is preparing something. Something…bad.”
Patterson cocked his head, “bad?”
“He’s been particularly unfriendly lately, muttering about you two,” he pointed to the Earthlings, “and inferiority,” Klipp replied. “I won’t keep you long, so you can get out before the storm gets worse.”
The sky grew darker. The soft rumbles of thunder grew louder as the central apex of the storm neared the underground town. From the central plaza, a dragon rose, slowly gliding toward the flight deck. Ragnar recognized those angry, glowing eyes from his waking nightmares. He shuddered.
“It’s him. Get going now!” Klipp called as he quickly took flight and placed himself between the dark dragon and the flight deck. He turned, “Go!”
Ragnar and Patterson nodded. The red dragon knelt and got to his knees for the human to climb on. The doctor sat on the large pack like a saddle and wrapped his arms around Ragnar’s wide neck. His scales felt warm, like sitting in a nice, sun-warmed chair.
The dragon grunted from the extra weight before standing tall. His wings made large, heavy flaps as the pair slowly took flight. The two wobbled a little as the hybrid adjusted himself. Their flight accelerated as Ragnar’s large wings flapped harder, climbing closer to the skylight.
Meanwhile, Klipp and the dark dragon met in the air. Slaktullr stopped, fury painted on his face. His eyes caught the slowly shrinking form of the hybrid and human. In a loud voice, “Let me through, Klipp!” he screeched. “Those two don’t belong here…in THIS world or any other!”
Klipp pulled a pickaxe from the holster on his back. “I can’t let you do that. I know what you’ll do.”
The Electric dragon reared back and charged at the sturdy Ground dragon. He screamed in rage as his momentum pushed Klipp out of the way. The Electric dragon tumbled and rolled onto the flight deck. After a moment, he rose to his feet and stood wide. His tail smacked the ground, and his purple scales started to glow. The black scales took on a dark, metallic sheen, like that of a lightning rod.
“No!” Klipp yelled. He soared towards the Electric dragon, only turning his head for a moment to call, “GET AWAY FROM THE SKYLIGHT!!”
Ragnar picked up the warning and veered towards the stone ceiling and started to hover, effortlessly as if he had flown his whole life.
With an earsplitting CRACK! A bolt of glowing purple lightning arched through the sky. The boom rattled Ragnar’s scales and left his ears ringing. The supercharged bolt connected with Slaktullr and Klipp in a flash. Klipp’s face froze as the energy surged through his body. Smoke rose from the air as the Ground dragon collapsed beside Slaktullr. The Electric dragon rolled him off the flight deck, eyes shining with angry tears. Energy sparked behind his eyes as the enraged dragon returned his gaze to the Earthlings.
“KLIPP!” Ragnar screamed. He started to turn back, prepared to dive for the fallen dragon.
“No!” Patterson yelled, temporarily deafened by the thunder. He pulled on Ragnar’s horns, yanking the dragon back like a bull. “Now’s the time to escape! Neither of us could take a hit like that. We need to LEAVE before he can charge up another bolt!”
Ragnar, beginning to openly sob, nodded and turned for the skylight.
Slaktullr screeched, “Cowards! Fight me like a true blood dragon!” He quickly returned to his previous stance, ready to charge another lightning bolt. But before another bolt could strike, Ragnar and Patterson escaped to the surface and dove into a nearby forest, massive and full of golden aspen-like trees.
Rain began to fall in sheets as the Earthlings landed below the dense tree canopy, scraping against branches, and landing hard against the soft earth. Ragnar lost his balance and fell forward into the mud. Patterson rolled off his back, landing on his feet and stumbling forward until he finally stopped with his arms spread wide for balance.
The doctor turned to Ragnar, whose scales were dripping with mud. He screamed over the rain and thunder. “We need to take cover! There should be a cabin nearby that we can take for shelter!” He pointed to a dark section of the woods. Bright, orange leaves prevented what little light the day provided from penetrating the canopy, encasing the forest floor in darkness “This way!”
The man held his hands to his ears, feeling a warm trickle of blood caressing his cold fingers. The man trudged through the mud deeper into the forest. Ragnar stood up slowly, still dripping with mud. As he followed, a single red scale from his underbelly pried itself free from his hide like a loose tooth and fell in the mud unnoticed.
After an hour of walking through the drenched forest, they came across a simple cabin built from the logs of the yellow aspens. No light shone inside.
Patterson scrambled up to the large door and pushed into a massive, single-room domicile. Inside was a kitchenette, nicer than Klipp’s but just as small. In one corner sat a large, dragon-sized bed, framed with small logs and a thick headboard filled with overgrown plants as nature fought to reclaim the small patch of land.
In the center of the room sat a large rug made from the soft hide of a monstrous wolf creature. Beside it sat a wooden couch with similarly fur-lined cushions.
At the end of the room was another door that opened to a small, covered path to an outhouse. Beside the door was a fireplace, separate from the cooking hearth in the kitchenette.
The doctor stepped inside while Ragnar shook his body like a wet dog, wicking the dripping water from his glossy scales. The doctor removed his wet overcoat and clothes, leaving undergarments on for modesty’s sake, and sat on the floor, leaning against the wooden arm of the couch’s left side.
Ragnar walked over to the fireplace and knelt down. “I’ll start a fire.”
“No,” he interrupted. “The smoke would alert Slaktullr to where we are. The dragon sighed as he approached the couch and sat down in the center. He turned to the human. The man’s clothes were completely soaked with the cold rain. He was shaking uncontrollably.
“You’re shivering.” He looked at his scaled hand and thought for a moment. The dragon took a breath and gently blew a small flame onto his hand, which quickly caught fire, shedding light and warmth into the room. Only small whisps of smoke rose from Ragnar’s flaming scales as the dragon slid from the couch to the floor. He held the warm flame close to the man.
“Thank you.” He replied as he leaned against the dragon’s warm scales and held out his hands to the fire.
After a long silence, Patterson spoke up, no longer shivering. “We couldn’t risk getting hit too. We’d never be able to take a hit. Klipp…might’ve survived.” He looked around for the right words. “Ground dragons aren’t as susceptible to electrocution as we are.” He paused. “But…even the most powerful of strikes can take down a dragon as sturdy as Klipp.”
Ragnar began to sniffle as the tears returned. His flaming hand went out as he gripped around his legs and curled up, beginning to sob again. Patterson could only reach his shoulder and gently rub the dragon’s back as the sobs slowly put the two to sleep.
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Category Story / Fantasy
Species Western Dragon
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 21.7 kB
Listed in Folders
You know what? Double it to 36 feet under. We can't risk the true coward getting out ever again. (He reminds me of a guy on a server I play on: a classic bully who deserves what's coming to him. (And there's a town called Draconia, in case you're interested, but you're welcome to join McPetersburg. )) I don't know what you mean by emotional, other than the emotion of anger towards him.
I'm glad that the character was perceived as intended. Don't worry, about commupence, we'll see Slaktullr return later. 😉
However, you'll have to wait a few weeks before I return to write act 2. I wanted to end it off with something shocking.
...
On the other hand, what did you think about the softer world building in this chapter? Namely Slaktullr's stance and Ragnar's hand.
Also, I don't think I'll join you on that. I need to finish planning Ryker and Ragnars stories! 😉🙃
However, you'll have to wait a few weeks before I return to write act 2. I wanted to end it off with something shocking.
...
On the other hand, what did you think about the softer world building in this chapter? Namely Slaktullr's stance and Ragnar's hand.
Also, I don't think I'll join you on that. I need to finish planning Ryker and Ragnars stories! 😉🙃
On the world-building side, it's been done quite nicely. I can tell there's a bias toward purebloods, but the sapients still know a troublemaker when they see one, and they're prepared with a service for you regardless of heritage. As for Ragnar's hand, it's good that he can do that. It will be quite important for him as the story progresses, especially when Slaktullr eventually comes for him. Hopefully by then he'll be stronger in body and mind as well as in relations with others. He's going to need some allies for sure to help bring justice to his friend. (Okay, now I'm crying. )
And yeah, it's probably best for an author to wait until they're successful in their life before they devote a significant amount of time to other pursuits. (Speaking of which, have you seen the pictures of Christopher Paolini's Minecraft world that he shares on his Twitter? Being a best-selling author gets you a lot of time on your hands. )
And yeah, it's probably best for an author to wait until they're successful in their life before they devote a significant amount of time to other pursuits. (Speaking of which, have you seen the pictures of Christopher Paolini's Minecraft world that he shares on his Twitter? Being a best-selling author gets you a lot of time on your hands. )
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