The Slaying of the Mireagh

[Zook Murnig]

Closed to Tshael, Karuka Tida, and Raelyse.
“It’s called the Mireagh and it’s a fierce dragon, Caddy. It lives in the mountains of Neamh, but on the west side, not the east side which is populated with the dragon tamers and their brood. It has the ability to quickly adapt and change its body and its most basic abilities to better assist it with whatever it needs, depending on its surroundings. It’s mean, territorial and has a very bad temper.” The words were solemn and sad, as if she considered this battle already lost and him defeated, which she did. There was no way he could do this by himself and even then it was so dangerous. “You need to kill it and bring me back the heart, the liver, the fire glands in the back of its throat and some scales. I suggest five of them.”

From My First Sippy Cup - The Shopping List (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=13332)

"So, will you help me?" Caduceus had spent the past few minutes speaking with Connaire dar Sabriel, hammering out the details of their verbal agreement. A few days past, the magician had visited his dear friend Lasair Anubail, seeking her help in getting an item enchanted. She had said she would, but that she needed several components for the synthesis. And a few of them were quite rare, and dangerous to claim.

That's where Connaire, and the three others Caduceus had signed on, came in. He needed to kill an old and powerful wyrm, and the young man knew he couldn't do it on his own. Connaire was renowned in Suthainn, however, for his skill in battle, and his unusual tactics. He had agreed to meet the magician at his usual watering hole, the Turtle Shell, mercifully named in Tradespeak. The draconian was large, even for his breed, towering over his employer at a full seven and a half feet when standing. Even seated as he was at the flimsy oaken table, his head rose a good foot over Caduceus'. His head was bare, save for the pitch black scales that lay there, layering down his neck and shoulders, lightening as they went, until finally they reached his hands, purest and palest white. Across his back was strapped his signature weapon, though few in his trade would consider it such. A large, broad shield of glossy black crystal, serrated along the edges, it was a beautiful and horrible thing, capable not only of slicing, but tearing flesh.

Looking the reptilian over, Caduceus couldn't help but think of the two other draconians he had met in his travels. Tristam, the blue-scaled "bodyguard" and best friend of the faerie Lasair, had been more than helpful in the quest for the Omeldi Crystal. And Faolan, though terrifying in his own right, was downright friendly-looking compared to Connaire. Then, unbidden, thoughts of Faolan's beautiful companion, the human girl Kris, and his single night with the lass flooded his mind. Without thinking, the magician rubbed at the still-clear marks he had grown during their lovemaking, covered now by his woolen robes.

The magician's blue-grey eyes stared into the dark orbs that threatened to disappear into the scales of the lizardman's face, watching him carefully and wincing a little when his answer came. "Aye, li'l one, Ay'll slay th' be-ahst for ye. S'long as ye can provide me th' spoils ye proh-miss." His voice was harsh, coming out as a raspy growl, hissing out the lilting accent of the land. Rather than the charming sound it had coming from the humans he'd met here, it added even more to the intimidating presence the warrior exuded.

"Good," Caduceus managed after a moment. "Then there are a few others you need to meet. They'll be coming along as well, to face the foul Mireagh." He forced a tight-lipped smile, stroking the short brown facial hair from the corners of his mouth to his chin in his nervousness.

[Raelyse]

He had experienced the dreadful feeling when he had first left his home; he still remembered it vividly, every inch of his body did. Raelyse was overjoyed when he had finally acclimatized to weather outside his home, which was essentially Althanas’ North Pole. The Myrusian could walk without leaking sweat from every conceivable pore the moment his skin touched open air. That was, of course, until Dheathain. That sensation, that discomfort returned instantly, like a demon that Raelyse had thought banished long ago. The worst thing was that he had not even reached the tropical continent yet, he was in a boat that was hours away.

As soon as he had boarded the ship, the Myrusian had descended immediately into the mess cum banquet hall, to indulge in drinks and fine food. It was not as lavish as the surroundings that he usually traveled in, but he had little choice when his chosen destination was Dheathain. Not many wanted to go there, evidently. This of course, was the reason why Raelyse took such an interest in it. With the days of the Grander’s Order now far behind him, the Myrusian had no other reason to remain in Alerar. Boredom quickly set in, until he remedied that with a new passing idea. There was still one continent that he had not been to, a place with new opportunities and chances to become the great man. Ever of fickle mind and without the attention span to finish what he started, Raelyse abandoned his plans for Alerar and made for Dheathain.

It was only when emerging after he had finished eating and drinking did the humidity hit him. He had been down there for a few hours, socializing and trying to learn a few things about the place he was about to reach from the few there that were returning home. Somehow, they had neglected to mention the sweltering heat or the fire that would appear and dance just underneath his skin. Sweat formed on his forehead instantly, rolled down his cheeks and then his neck, before it trickled down his chest, bringing discomfort to every inch of body it touched. Raelyse reached into his pockets, fumbling for the key for his private quarters. When his fingers finally caught them in their grasp, his feet could not move fast enough to please his agony-addled brain.

His room wasn’t that far away, but it felt like a mile to him. His fingers, usually so nimble and graceful, suddenly seemed clumsy as they stumbled with the key, belatedly slotting it in and pushing the door open. Raelyse’s day got even worse at this point. He had forgotten that this room was shared. A man that loved his privacy got a very rude awakening. As soon as the door was pushed ajar, he was greeted by his roommate and the sight of his legion of items, scattered around the room in a hodgepodge of weapons, maps and clothing.

“Howdy!” the man said, standing up from his chair and opening the rest of the door, his hand outstretched, welcoming Raelyse into the room. He thrust his other hand towards the Myrusian’s, a wide grin across his face. “Guess we’re bunkin’ togetha. Name’s Rafael Wrendel. Nice t’ meet cha’.”

Raelyse reluctantly shook Rafael’s hand, noticing instantly that his hand was dry and devoid of sweat, compared to his own which looked and smelt like they had just been dunked in the ocean. “Raelyse,” he introduced, his voice punctuated by quick glances to analyze the man in front of him. His skin was tanned and dry, leading Raelyse to the conclusion that this one was probably a native of Dheathain. How else could anyone else stay dry in the presence of such heat?

“Take it you’re not from Dheathain, are ya?” Rafael asked in a perky fashion, unperturbed by Raelyse’s less than enthusiastic demeanor. The Myrusian left to the other side of the room, letting his cane lie against the frame of his bed before sitting down on it and removing his sweaty shirt.

“No, I’m not,” Raelyse said, snappily. He studied his roommate for a moment, noticing that he was definitely a warrior of sorts. Rafael was probably a few years older than him, though he did not sound like anything other than a prepubescent boy. His body was a man’s though, lean and muscular and Raelyse could see at least three weapons scattered around his personal space. A bow, carved out of white wood and two short swords decorated the area in such a mess that it appeared as if Rafael was waiting for his mother to tidy.

“Talmhaidh born and bred, brotha!” Rafael proclaimed, beating his chest with the tact of an animal. He was oblivious to the fact that the person he was trying to talk to was thinking only of rest and pursued further, trying to engage in conversation. “What ya up to in Dheathain?”

Raelyse sighed loudly, taking off his shirt and letting it hang on his bedpost before lying down on the bed, his chest bathed in sweat. “Tourist.”

At this, Rafael laughed loudly again, terrorizing Raelyse’s ears with discomfort matching the weather. “Well, it’s good to have ya with us! Me? I’m going back home for a hunt!”

Those words served no purpose for the Myrusian had already begun to ignore. It was only when Rafael spoke again that Raelyse’s eyes perked with interest.

“We’re going after a Mireagh dragon!” Rafael said proudly. “Gonna be tough but worth it in tha end, ya know?”

The Myrusian sat up now, his mouth moving again as if it had just woken up. “Room for one more? I’m quite handy with a sword myself and I’d love the prestige of slaying a Mirea-”

Rafael quickly cut Raelyse off, speaking seriously for the first time. “No can do, brotha. I had to get a mate of mine to vouch for me, it’s kind of a big deal in Dheathain.”

“Fine,” the Myrusian said, defeated for now. He lied down on his bed, closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, ignoring the incessant chatter spurting from Rafael’s mouth. The inevitable dream of grandeur was going to come to him soon. Then, he would awake and enact the dream.

When Raelyse wanted something, he got it.

[Tshael]

"Could you really call any creature 'foul'?" Tshael asked quietly from where she sat in the Turtle Shell, not far from the magician and the mercenary. Dheathain had been good to the Dranak. Her skin was glowing and sun-kissed, a rosy blush on her shoulders and cheeks that was more healthy than sunburnt. Her red curls shone as they tumbled around her face and came to a rest on her bare breasts. Amber eyes were alight with youth that so lately she felt she no longer possessed.

In Corone, her soul was aging. She felt as if she should roll over and die, with the death of Tsyliss still so fresh in her heart. But here, she could almost use her pain over the death of her baby boy to fuel her into strength. She wore her love for the child as an armor now, letting it protect her from her own doubts. Yes, Dheathain was very good for Tshael, but she had no intentions to stay.

Her attention had been on the mage; after all, she'd been hired through a messenger when she'd heard that he planned on traversing the rainforest to find components for a synthesis project. That was perfect for her, for she had her own goal in mind. With a smile, she moved closer to Caduceus.

"Though I can only hope that you've more than me and this child to aide you."

[Raelyse]

The latest ship to make dock in Dheathain didn't look special by any standards. It wasn't particularly lavish, nor was it of homely standard. It was a decidedly mediocre ship, with not one feature of any interest at all. Nothing seemed to challenge that statement for a while and the ship continued to wallow in its mediocrity until it lowered its ramp to allow its passenger to touch solid ground again. The first few to leave the ship were as unremarkable as the vessel that had carried them here but then, from the garden variety crowd emerged a being of true splendor and exceptionality.

Silver hair glimmering with all the beauty of the moon gave way to features so handsome that they seemed to chiseled into a perfectly angled face. His body was well formed and proportionate, taut in all the places they should be but not to the extent where strength threatened to erupt from the veiny muscles that contained them. Adorning his body was a two-piece suit of perfect make, only seeming to exaggerate the aura of pride about him. The ensemble on his person was joined by a bow carved from white wood, strapped to his back above a quiver of many arrows. He walked with a cane as well, though it seemed to be of aesthetic rather than functional use.

This being of magnificence descended the ramp quickly, visibly rushing towards his goal. He barged his way through the passengers, angered that they were slowing him down. “Do you know who I am?” he angrily said through gritted teeth repeatedly, while not paying enough attention to the crowd to see whether they responded. He was too preoccupied with getting his feet to Dheathain's ground and the treasures that were so evident in his mind.

When he finally reached the dock, the silver haired man was aggravated that there was yet another obstacle for him to pass. A customs officer stood on the edge of the dock, eying all the travelers suspiciously. He allowed most to pass, until the man dressed in the two piece suit walked him by. Without a second thought, the officer stuck his hand out and stopped him from walking away.

“You dress funny, don't cha?” he mocked, glaring down at the silver haired man. “Suspicious, too. Why should I let ya into Dheathain?”

“Why? You're asking me why?” came the reply, his face seemingly almost on the verge of laughter rat such a ridiculous question. “Because I'm Rafael Wrendel, bounty hunter extraordinaire.”

It was clear from the way that the custom officer's face twisted in confusion and surprise that he wasn't entirely convinced. The man he detained had known this would happen, because he certainly looked much more different to the Rafael Wrendel that the people around here knew. There were numerous ways that he could have bypassed this situation, but instead, he decide to do it the way that would create the least mess.

“You see this?” Rafael said, pointing to the bow that adorned his shoulder. “It's the Silver Morning, best bow in the world. You think anyone except Rafael Wrendel would have his weapon of fame?”

A moment passed, before the customs officer's face showed some form of recognition, before turning slowly into a smile. He stretched out his arm invitingly, prompting the man and his renowned bow to enter Dheathain.

Despite the thoughts on the officer's mind, it was not Rafael Wrendel who entered Dheathain at this point. Instead, it was the cunning man who had shared his quarters aboard the boat had entered on his behalf. As soon as Raelyse had heard that Wrendel was on his way to slay a dragon, a creature renowned for both power and rarity, he knew that he needed to get a piece of the action. As he unfurled Rafael's crude map that showed directions to the pub where the rest of the hunting party was, the Myrusian could not help but smile as he remembered how he had snuffed Rafael Wrendel from the world.

The bounty hunter had been a formidable man and an even more capable hunter, but his brawn had done poorly against Raelyse. The Myrusian remembered how Rafael had constantly ranted on the power of his bow and how all of Dheathain knew of it. Despite his annoyance, Raelyse knew that the frequent boasting was not that far from the truth. The bow give off magical energy, energy which during the course of the journey, relentlessly teased Raelyse's lust for power. It was about half way through the journey that the Myrusian realized that acquiring the two treasures he craved – joining the dragon hunt and the magical bow that Wrendel possessed, didn't need to be mutually exclusive.

The hairs on Raelyse's body stood on edge in excitement as he remembered the last few moments of Rafael Wrendel's life. The Myrusian had used his magic to great effect, subduing the bounty hunter by freezing the blood in his veins. From then on, it was simple to end his life. A still man did nothing as his heart was pierced by the very blades that had got it excited so long ago.

It did annoy the egotistical Raelyse that he had to pretend to be this pathetic man, that he could not join the hunt under his true identity. In his younger days, this might have stopped him from participating altogether for his ego was particularly strong then. But he was wiser now and the Myrusian knew that he could garner countless spoils from slaying a dragon, prizes that would surely ease the pain that he felt now. It was that mantra that he continued to repeat in his head as he battled to subdue his formidable pride.

Finding the bar proved to be a much easier task and Raelyse entered without delay, eager to get the action underway. His heart skipped a beat as he did so... How often was it that one got a chance to slay a dragon? It was like he was like a little boy living a fairy tale.

Only this boy was so sinister he would do anything to accomplish his aims.